[ Dean thrashes and feels his feet lift off the ground, a startled, strangled little groan escaping him as he catches sight of the ghost with its hands wrapped around his throat.
It's old. That's the first thing that comes to mind when he looks at it, eyes going wide.
Old clothing, old haircut, everything - fucking great. Dean slams his hand back against the toilet's door when he hears the sound of someone kicking at the door, and thrashes again. The key that he used to get into the bathroom with is in his pocket, he tosses that at the ghost, hopes there's fucking something iron on it, and hits the ground in a heap when it lets him go.
Just as soon as it starts, it's over, and the door breaks open for Cas, while Dean rests on his hands and knees, gasping for a breath. ]
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It's old. That's the first thing that comes to mind when he looks at it, eyes going wide.
Old clothing, old haircut, everything - fucking great. Dean slams his hand back against the toilet's door when he hears the sound of someone kicking at the door, and thrashes again. The key that he used to get into the bathroom with is in his pocket, he tosses that at the ghost, hopes there's fucking something iron on it, and hits the ground in a heap when it lets him go.
Just as soon as it starts, it's over, and the door breaks open for Cas, while Dean rests on his hands and knees, gasping for a breath. ]