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Date: 2007-02-17 10:12 am (UTC)
For some reason he couldn’t really recall, Dean dreamed of horses that night, huddled with Sammy in the backseat of the Impala. He dreamed of horses and sunshine and a warmth at his back; of kind, loving laughter surrounding him; of long blond hair cascading around him.

This paragraph? This one right here? KILLED ME DEAD. Oh, Dean<.
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