Hello, it's me AGAIN! ;) Sometimes I just need to write and today seems to be one of those days! A short one-shot set after Dean discovers Sam is challenged in the soul department. Kinda paper thin in the plot area but hey, when you gots to write, you gots to write! I hope any who read will enjoy. Thanks! Oh, and I own nothing... yet;)

"Bite me."

A snarl.

Body slams into tree.

Stars in vision.

The gun is dropped before its trigger is pulled.

A deafening howl.

Intense, incredible pain.

A gunshot.

Confused eyes take notice of the gun still on the ground.

Suffocating weight released from chest.

Arm presses against the tree to prevent gravity from taking hold.

Shock.

Blood, a river of it.

It flows like a churning rapid; it streams from shoulder to arm; from arm to fingertips; fingertips to ground.

Confusion.

Should do something.

Yeah, right. Stop blood.

Hand flies up to neck but can't tell if it hits its mark, a pervasive numbness encases every cell.

Stomach rolls.

Knees give out.

Burning bile is ejected from the depths.

Breaths filter out through clenched teeth.

Pain ebbs and flows with each pump of blood.

Murmurs float through the air in a language that seems hard to understand.

Distant and faded.

Figure crouches in front.

Sam.

Liquid flies out to paint him like a morbid canvas.

"Ged't S'mm?"

Hands on neck.

Pressure sparks agony to flash within.

"Yes Dean, it's dead."

"S'good. Uh.. bad?"

Cold eyes inspect the wound.

Exaggerated sigh.

"You've been bit."

Fake sorrow.

Left alone as his brother stands.

Looks up in fear as Sam grips the gun.

Aims.

"S'mmy?"

Panic.

"I'm sorry, really, but take comfort in how you've saved a lot of people Dean. I won't forget you."

Smirk.

"SAAAAAM!"

Jolts awake, covered in a slick sheen of sweat, the dampness making him shiver.

Blurry eyes scan the surroundings.

A sigh is released when they see nothing but an ugly wallpaper pattern.

Motel room.

Damn. Fricken dreams.

"Dean?"

A flinch as he rises up to his elbows, his eyes resting on his brother.

Sam. He looks annoyed and determined as he swings a duffel bag onto his shoulder.

Damn. It's like he's just been sucker punched.

Right. Sam. His soulless brother.

"Good, you're awake, it's about time man. Let's get moving."

Confusion.

"What? Where?"

"Where? Huh, well, you remember right? Werewolf to kill?"

Heart plummets.

He's got a bad feeling about this.

End. Thanks for taking the time to read, I appreciate it!