Boys and Their Toys
Mady Bay, August 6, 2006
"Dean? I've got a very bad feeling about this."
"Yeah, I know what you mean, Sammy," Dean replied warily. "I'm thinking we might be a bit out-gunned on this one."
The brothers looked around, seeing not one, not two, but seven demon possessed creatures stalking toward them.
Dean looked at the small flask of holy water he'd brought. He looked at the demons, back at the flask, and then at the demons again.
"Sammy?" he called to his brother.
"Yeah, Dean?" Sam asked.
"Run!"
Sam and Dean ran through the woods, shotguns loaded with rock salt blaring, doing their best to beat back the demons and get themselves out unscathed. They made it as far as the edge of the woods, the border that somehow contained the demons, and crossed into a corn field, safe territory, each dropping to their hands and knees, panting wildly for air. Sam went so far as to drop onto his back, arms and legs spread wide as he gasped oxygen into his lungs.
"You okay, Little Brother?" Dean asked, slowly straightening up to rest on his heels. He looked back at the woods; saw the shadows passing through the trees. "They didn't get you, did they?"
"I'm fine," Sam replied. He sat up to prove his point. "You?"
"Pissed."
"Yeah. We need a better plan. Seven on two, even if those two are us, are shitty odds."
When, after a few moments Dean stayed silent, still staring at the demons passing in the woods, Sam spoke up again. "Dean?" He started to worry, but then Dean started to smile. Sam got excited – he knew that smile – it meant Dean had a plan. A good one. Then his smile faded. Sometimes they weren't such good plans... "Dean?"
Dean turned to face his brother then. His smile was ear to ear, and his eyes were sparkling. "I got a plan, Sammy," he said, rising from the ground and heading toward the Impala. "Gonna get us some bigger guns."
But Sam only looked confused. "Bigger guns?" he questioned. "Dean, rock salt only slows 'em down. Guns aren't gonna work on these things!" he argued, following Dean to the car.
"You'll see, Grasshopper," Dean whispered. "You'll see."
00000
During the entire ride to the shop, Sam had been ready to slap the crap out of his brother – Dean's shit-eating grin and refusing to divulge his plan to him, bothered the hell out of Sam. But once the gun was in his hand, fully loaded, he'd had to admit that Dean's plan had merits.
And once back in the woods, with the seven demons bearing down on the two Winchester brothers, Sam had had to admit to a moment of worry.
But then Dean was firing, blast after blast, and so was he, and one by one the demons went down, screaming in pain and fury. The big guns had worked.
It had been a short shootout, taking less than five minutes, and their ammo was nearly depleted, but the brothers triumphed over evil once again.
"So what do you say to my idea, now, Sammy?" Dean asked, sending another shot into one of the demons, just for good measure, smiling as the thing hissed and melted some more.
Sam shook his head in amazement as he held his gun out in front of him, turning it over, inspecting it. "Super Soakers full of holy water… who'd have thought?"
"I did, Little Brother. I did," Dean replied, smugly.
Sam smiled widely. He clapped his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Only you, Dean. Only you."