Dean had failed again. A random one-shot.
Failed
Dean let his head fall in shame. "Sorry sir." And he meant it. It was his fault.
Whenever he looked at his father he saw the disappointment, and when he looked at Sammy he saw the confusion.
He didn't understand. Why couldn't he be a perfect hunter?
Why couldn't he be like John? Why couldn't he be better?
They had been tracking a werewolf, but he was distracted by a bat in the tree above and the werewolf had attacked.
The heavy claws of the beast had sunken into his shoulder but his father had saved him with a shot of silver into the sky, a warning to the werewolf.
It was Dean that had killed it though. He had executed the perfect shot. A silver bullet to the heart of the werewolf and a minute later he wanted to put one through his own.
John had turned and yelled at him for the better half of ten minutes before snatching the gun from his son's fingers saying something along the lines of 'what did I do to deserve a son that can't get a werewolf in the heart?'
Dean had wanted to shout. He had wanted to tell his dad he did get it in the heart, that he had done it!
That he wasn't a failure.
But he knew he was.
And he knew what denial meant.
He hated that look in John's cold eyes. He hated the way his father had looked at him in the eye and said.
"You could have killed us all Dean, yourself, me and even worse your little brother." Then John had brought them here and yelled at Dean some more.
He didn't even notice the wound on Dean's shoulder because Dean hid it under a heavy leather jacket.
It was dark, John would never see it.
Dean looked back up at his father.
His father sighed and turned his back on his son.
Dean turned on his heel and ran to the bathroom.
He peeled away the tatters of his shirt and inspected the wound.
His eyes watered.
He failed.
He failed at everything.
And as he wiped the wound and struggled to dress it he wiped his eyes.
He would never fail again. He would never put their lives in danger again. He would never let his life get in the way of protecting his family.
And as he went washed the blood from his hands he wondered why he was alone.
He asked that aloud as he went to the room he and Sammy shared, but his brother didn't hear.
And the seven-year old didn't repeat the statement.
-- The End --
Please review guys. I love to know what you think.
I know this was random, I didn't really think it through.
Keep Smilin' :D ShadowMayne.