Our Job is Hunting Evil

three word starters

Sam snagged a thick, clean rag from his kit and offered it to her, “I’d offer the similar to what my brother and I tended to use when we cleaned wounds but I doubt you’d appreciate it.” He commented as he looked at her wound and only her wound.

Taking hold of the rag, Elise rose a defined brow at who she only knew as Sam at the moment. What would cause him to stitch up wounds on himself? He had a brother? Is the guy still even alive? Even more questions began to linger in her thirsted curiousity yet she allowed it to win. “You have a brother?” The woman questioned calmly, hesitant at first. Angering this man or causing him discomfort would not be in her favor.

“Yeah, he’s somewhere across the country right now with a friend of ours.” He explained, shrugging, “So its just me right now. Anyway, let me get these cleaned up and we’ll see how many stitches you’re going to get the pleasure of having.” He told her as he retrieved his first rag and flipped open the top to the rubbing alcohol.

“Didn’t your parents ever tell you about the boogeyman?” Sam blurted out curiously. He knew the kid was probably old enough that his parents didn’t tell him scary stories anymore. Especially once he was a bit more in the light, he wasn’t as young as he’d previously seemed.

Will raised a brow at the reference to childish scary stories. He was far beyond that. He continued to stay by the edge of the camp, not wanting to step past his welcome.

“Nothing so strange that its kept you out of the dark.” He commented as he turned his marshmallow to brown the other side.

“There’s all sorts of things one can capture at night. If you know what to look for.” he answered simply, feeling more welcome to step closer. He made his way to a log near the other, taking a seat. Then a nod at the offered sweet, scanning the ground for a good stick to roast it with.

“Very well, you’d certainly know better than I would. I don’t tend to carry around a camera so I’ll believe the one who’s got one now at any rate.” He commented, offering a bit of a smile to the younger man.

“Responsible.” He snorted and then shrugged. He couldn’t really complain considering he’d been the one that had been showing her more defensive skills in driving. Especially those more reckless things that had saved him and Dean’s lives more times than he could count. There was a reason there was a beater car stored in the unattached garage.

“Yeah, I am,” Em insisted as she buckled up and turned on the ignition. “I’m a very responsible driver.”

“Alright, alright, miss responsible, let’s get to the shelter.” He laughed, waving a hand in a shooing motion toward the road.

Sam grinned and turned the doorknob, nudging the door open far enough that the dog got the hint. The large lumbering pup flounced his big grey body into the room and immediately zeroed in on ‘noise making lump!’ and leapt bodily onto the bed. His large nose snuffling at the blankets as his tail wagged at roughly the speed of light.

Em squawked as she felt the enormous dog’s weight on top of her, and she tried to squirm out from under him.

“Well I mean if you don’t want breakfast before we have to get going for the day then you can suffer.” He huffed, shrugging. Keeping a secret from the girl was difficult because really all he wanted to do was blurt out that they were having cake for breakfast.

Sam gazed out the door for a moment and breathed in the humid air, glaring out into the yard, “Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin.” He huffed softly as he closed the door and tucked his gun into the waistband of his pants. Throwing the locks back into place, he bumped the drawer fully closed again with his hip and turned into the house.

“…Elise.” She furrowed her brows at his rather…straight forward attitude, concerned that she might have found shelter at a wrong place as her tone dropped. It didn’t take a split second for her to realize he was concealing his weapon in the thin waist line of his pants. Perfect. There was a monsterous thing chasing after her, she’s in the middle of no where, and now he has a weapon.

Sam felt her eyes sweep over him and he knew she likely noticed the imprint of his weapon. He hadn’t tried to hide it, necessarily. He had no intention of using it on her anyway. Silver didn’t do enough damage to warrant it and they were expensive bullets too. He didn’t even know if the silver did any damage to the creature but usually anything wolfen was a good bet to load with silver just in case.

“My back and arm. The thing clawed me pretty deep, and uh…thanks.” Hesitant with his blunt actions of unloading his weapon, she politely took the bottle bringing it up to her plush lips. For a brief moment her eyes never left those mysterious Hazel pair of the other, in fact the intimidation was considerably intriguing.

Sam took another clean rag from the kit and some rubbing alcohol and moved closer to her, “You’ll have to shift to let me see.” He told her, “And uh, you’ll probably have to take your shirt off.” He added, reddening slightly, clearly uncomfortable with needing to request it but really the fabric was only going to be in the way and he needed to clean her wounds.

Sam snagged a thick, clean rag from his kit and offered it to her, “I’d offer the similar to what my brother and I tended to use when we cleaned wounds but I doubt you’d appreciate it.” He commented as he looked at her wound and only her wound.

//Hi guys. I know I keep promising to do stuff and having excuses for why I haven’t and I’m about to give you another one unfortunately.

Sam laughed again at her and tossed the keys at her, “Who could resist that face.” He teased, tucking the gun into the holster he’d taken to wearing instead of shoving the firearm into his waistband.

“I love you,” she said, beaming up at him as she jogged over to the car. “I won’t! I’m a responsible driver, remember?”

“Responsible.” He snorted and then shrugged. He couldn’t really complain considering he’d been the one that had been showing her more defensive skills in driving. Especially those more reckless things that had saved him and Dean’s lives more times than he could count. There was a reason there was a beater car stored in the unattached garage.

A Birthday Gift.

Sam grinned and turned the doorknob, nudging the door open far enough that the dog got the hint. The large lumbering pup flounced his big grey body into the room and immediately zeroed in on ‘noise making lump!’ and leapt bodily onto the bed. His large nose snuffling at the blankets as his tail wagged at roughly the speed of light.