Click, click, click. Click, click, click.
"Dean! Stop that!"
…Click
"God dammit Dean!"
Fwak!
Dean Winchester ducked his head forward as the newspaper came sailing towards his face. The funnies slid down the headboard to meet with cheap hotel carpeting and flop over sadly.
Dean only smiled. "Crappy shot, Samantha."
"Don't call me that!" Sam snagged the remote and stomped over to his bed on the other side of the room. He flung himself down on the cheap mattress and pouted, arm and controller outstretched to coerce the t.v. to decide now was the perfect time to start working. The television was strangely unaffected. Strangely, because there was probably no way that the bullet hole in the screen had anything to do with its noncompliance.
"We have SO lost our deposit on this room." Dean readjusted himself on his own bed, clearly enjoying making his baby brother squirm. He snuck a sly glance in Sam's direction.
The kid looked really depressed.
Dean shook his head before he could start to feel guilty. It really wasn't his fault anyways. Sammy should have known better than to move around in the dark like that. Okay, so maybe he hadn't known that Dean had a pistol under his pillow, but hey, variety is the spice of life.
Sammy seemed to be taking this hit pretty hard. It was just a stupid t.v. after all. Maybe the kid had really wanted to watch Jeopardy. Oh well. Dean was actually in a little bit of a euphoric high at the way things had turned out. He had woken to darkness to find him clutching his pistol pointed toward the foot of his bed. Dean didn't have a word for the chill that had paralyzed his spine when he heard his little brother's harsh breathing.
Dean almost never missed a shot. This included times when he wasn't quite awake. This was a fact he was quite proud of. He had never before been happy to have missed a target.
He was really just lucky that he hadn't hit Sammy.
Dean Winchester held up the empty gun again and pulled the trigger.
Click.
"Dean!"