"Sam! The colt, get the colt!" Dean yelled as the creature slashed his shirt from behind. Sam looked over to where the silver gun was glinting in the dark, and his eyes darted from the demon protecting it and back. He winced at the circumstances, but Dean was already on the ground, and this could be their only hope. With a quick breath, Sam ran forward, punching the demon as hard as he could despite knowing for them it was the about equivalent of getting hit with a ping pong ball.
Its yellow eyes flared as Sam made a dive for the colt, and his fingers grazed it just enough to knock it off the table. He could hear the low, taunting chuckle of the creature, laughing at his pathetic attempts. Sam reached for the gun, but the demon kicked it away easily.
"You think you can get rid of me that easily?" it growled as it picked Sam up by the shirt, lifting the muscular man inches off the ground. Sam struggled as the grip tightened, and it grinned devilishly. "You and your brother are nothing but pieces in the game, Sammy. And now, it's game over for you. I'm gonna drag you straight to hell, just like your daddy."
Sam's brows furrowed. "What do you know about our dad?!" It just smiled without an answer, and leaned in close to whisper. "By the way… mommy dearest sends her best."
Sam struggled against it, rage coursing through his veins from the words. He could feel a painful heat begin to reach his feet. "Shh, don't fight it, Sammy. You're all going to die for what you did to my family." As Sam threw his head back and flinched in agony at the invisibly flames that consumed him, a gun cock was heard behind the demon's head.
"Put my little brother down." It was Dean's voice, full of anger. The demon didn't make a move to turn around, but it did let up the heat on Sam. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, it was on Dean, clawing at him and slowly diminishing his life force. Sam watched in horror from the ground where it had dropped him, watched Dean scream in pain and writhe under the demon's hateful grasp.
"S-Sam! Finish it!" he called, and tossed him the gun over the demon's head. Just then, Dean's body went limp, and the demon disappeared. Sam looked around in confusion, and crawled over to his brother's body. "Dean!" he yelled, shaking him. Suddenly, his eyes shot open.
They were yellow.
Dean got up. "What are you waiting for, Sammy? Come on, kill me! That was your brother's dying wish, wasn't it? WASN'T IT?!" Sam shook as the demon approached him. "My brother's not dead!" "Okay. If you want to live in a fantasy, then okay. He's here, next to me right now. BURNING!"
Sam held the gun up, and before he could think about anything, he pulled the trigger. The bullet whizzed through the air, and hit the target perfectly between the eyes. A huge explosion went off through the place, and Sam was knocked out cold.
Sam groaned as he came to, eyelids rolling open in a dark room. "Hello?" he said, but there was no answer. He cringed as he got up, feeling pain ignite in the small of his back. He got off of the bed he was strangely laying on, and walked out into a hallway of a house that seemed very familiar.
He scratched the back of his neck, and went out into the living room of the house he was in. Questions swirled around in his head. What was going on? Where was he? How did he get here? He heard a sound behind him, and turned to see someone standing by the counter, sharpening a dagger casually. His back was turned, and Sam went up to him. He approached the man, and his mouth dropped as he saw him. "Dad?!"
John Winchester turned. "Hey, Sammy. Why the long face….You feeling okay?" Sam's eyes were wide as he looked around. "How are you here right now? What… w-where's Dean?" John's face turned stony for a second, and he took a deep breath. "Son," he said, looking down, "Your brother's been dead for 10 years."