( He loses track of time. Geralt takes point, and he switches to his blade rather than continue firing off rounds — ammunition is limited, but he can cut things down all day. Rather, he can cut them down until his arms give out, but that'll take longer than it would to empty a clip.
The number never seems to really thin. Geralt takes on the majority of them from there in the lead, with Dean keeping them off of his flank. Keeping them from assaulting from the rear. Cleaning up any that try to pick themselves up again after their first meeting with a sword.
They get in the occasional swipe with a claw, the occasional nip. Blood drips from a cut at his cheek, from the glass in his palm, from a wound on his arm.
They keep fighting. They keep moving. Minutes pass. Longer? It could be worse. This isn't unfamiliar. He did this for a year with company he trusted far less at first. They can do this.
Geralt goes down.
He's moving immediately, flashlight dropped in favor of two-handing his weapon. He swings it like a god damn golf club, slamming into the beast's skull. It should decapitate it, but for some reason it doesn't. It does at least knock the thing off of Geralt, and Dean brings his weapon up intent to drive it down again-
"Dean!" Sam's voice comes from nowhere, an urgent bark that has him faltering, eyes ripped from Geralt to fixate instead on his brother across the room. "Dean, stop! Wait!"
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The number never seems to really thin. Geralt takes on the majority of them from there in the lead, with Dean keeping them off of his flank. Keeping them from assaulting from the rear. Cleaning up any that try to pick themselves up again after their first meeting with a sword.
They get in the occasional swipe with a claw, the occasional nip. Blood drips from a cut at his cheek, from the glass in his palm, from a wound on his arm.
They keep fighting. They keep moving. Minutes pass. Longer? It could be worse. This isn't unfamiliar. He did this for a year with company he trusted far less at first. They can do this.
Geralt goes down.
He's moving immediately, flashlight dropped in favor of two-handing his weapon. He swings it like a god damn golf club, slamming into the beast's skull. It should decapitate it, but for some reason it doesn't. It does at least knock the thing off of Geralt, and Dean brings his weapon up intent to drive it down again-
"Dean!" Sam's voice comes from nowhere, an urgent bark that has him faltering, eyes ripped from Geralt to fixate instead on his brother across the room. "Dean, stop! Wait!"
What the hell? )