THE JOB
Sam came into the dungeon, gun in hand.
The Colt. The Colt.
Crowley's eyes narrowed. "What's this?"
"It's time," Sam said calmly.
Crowley smirked. "You don't have the stones for it, Moose. You're nothing but a blip on the radar, a minor irritant. A pimple on my ass!"
"Are you ready?"
"You can't be serious."
"It's time, Crowley."
Crowley started to sweat, started to believe. "But why?"
"It's the job," Sam answered calmly. "And it's time."
"You can't! I am the - !"
Sam pulled the trigger.
((((((
That night, Sam slept better than he had in years.
And Hell quaked.
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Okay, now don't go all nuts on me. I love Mark Sheppard just as much as anyone, but you-all know it needed to be done!