I don't own anything Supernatural (sadly) and no money is being made.

I have no idea what anyone will think of this, but if it makes anyone smile...

o0o0o

All Sam wanted was to wipe that smug superior grin off her snub-nosed snarling face. And for Dean to wake up. And for this gloating egomaniac to shut the fuck up.

Unfortunately his hands were cuffed together behind him, and Dean was cuffed too, in the shadowed recess of the warehouse, somewhere behind him, apparently unconscious, otherwise he'd be mouthing right back at this stupid witch.

Wait… it sounded like Dean was coming to… if he could just keep her attention focused on him… He tuned back into what she was philosophizing about…

"You probably think you're superheroes, Batman and Robin, or Spiderman and… no, Spiderman works alone. You probably think you're more young innocent Luke, to his jaded cynical Han Solo. Morons. But you're wrong, y'know. You might be in an alternate universe in a reality far, far away from everyone else's, but you're not Luke. You're Anakin. And he's Obi-wan. Wow, look at that. Who knew that much sarcasm could be conveyed by anyone with one eye almost scratched out and gagged to boot. Hah."

Man, she was fulla crap. Sam was all-of-a-sudden hoping that Dean wasn't listening to this. He'd never live it down…

"Yep, where was I? Oh yes, you're Anakin. You're not the pure noble one in this epic, honey. I hate to be the one to break it to you. I realize that all your life you've been the young one, the one whom everyone else watches out for, the one to be protected at all costs, but baby you're the one heading to the dark side. You're the next Sith Lord, and poor Obi-Wan over there is the one who spends his whole life as a second string to someone else's plan, who loses his mentor and hero figure and is thrust into taking one a parental role he was in no way ready for. But you know what? Ol' Obi over there, sucks it up, does what needs to be done and gets on with it. You know why? Not because his mommy was killed, not because his girlfriend was flambéed on the ceiling, but because someone has to fight the good fight and he's one of the only ones out there to do it. He's not doing it for revenge; he's doing it because he thinks someone has to be the hero. And while heroes get the babes and the glory, he's been delegated to sidekick duty and he gets squat. And yet he keeps doing it. He hunts because if he doesn't no one else will, and then the monsters will win. Heh. Well, we'll win anyway, but he needs to believe on some level that he can save people. Save you. Sadly, life's not like that. We both know better."

Meg stepped back from Sam, who's face she'd pretty much been in, for this whole insane monologue. He yanked on his cuffs just to keep her attention on him. His effort was wasted though: she was caught up in her own cleverness.

"You know what happens to poor Obi-Wan? He does his best to train young Ani, Ani up and leaves him when a nice piece of ass comes along, and even though he still loves his young padawan, he's forced to almost kill him to attempt to stop his downward slope. Because it has to be done. And he's the only one around to do it. But he can't finish him off, can he? Cause he's a sap. A weak-minded, sentimental sap underneath it all. And you know what he gets for his pain? He gets 20 years of exile on a god-forsaken planet, he gets to train yet another whelp who doesn't listen and he gets dead. Saving the son of his dark side former friend. And does it end there? No! Even when he's dead he doesn't give up trying to save his little lost padawan, he doesn't rest til Ani's been saved. Redeemed. Which is bullshit; cause there's no redemption for the likes of us, hun, Sammy. But Obi-Wan needs to believe. His whole fuckin' life is about someone else. Is any of this ringing any bells? Have I drawn enough parallels in this alternate dimension for you? No? Well let me put it like this: your stupid self-sacrificing brother who's likely given you everything from the last of the Cheerios to the best of his life is about to be sacrificed. By you, Mr. Sith Lord. Don't think it's gonna happen? Don't think you're gonna go Dark Side? Think again, Darth … gasp"

The slight exhalation Meg made as the holy-water doused knife blade embedded itself in her left eye socket was perhaps the sweetest sound Sam had ever heard.

"I preferred Shreddies, bitch!"

From behind him, Dean stepped forward. His hands were still cuffed, but in front of him, although it looked like he'd dislocated his left shoulder again, while pulling his legs through his bound hands.

"Man, I need longer arms…"

Sam hoped for a briefly optimistic moment that Dean was going to ignore…

"So, my little padawan, ready to salt n' burn this nasty Sith Lord wannabe. Someone should have reminded Darth Maul, here, that Obi-Wan kills the apprentice before he's even a full Jedi knight. Force this, bitch." Dean kicked Meg's corpse over with his boot and started searching her pockets for the handcuff key. Triumphantly he found it and unlocked his own cuffs and then undid his brother's.

Sam ripped off his gag and spit on Meg's dead body to clear his throat. Ok, and because it felt so good.

He met his brother's eyes and the brothers shared a moment of relieved victory that this pint-sized abomination was finally dead. And this time they'd make sure she'd stay that way.

"Personally, I think I'm more Han Solo myself: rugged, sexy, cool ride. And you, let's see, tall, shaggy, brooding yet insightful… yep I'm pretty sure that makes you Chewie…"

Sam groaned… he was never going to hear the end of it.

Dean moved away to go get the rock salt and lighter fluid they had stashed on the fire escape earlier.

Sam knew that there was no point asking Dean about his shoulder or offering to do anything about it til they were back at the car: their injuries could wait til after the job was done. And this time, they weren't leaving anything to chance.

Sam grimaced as he listened to Dean's relieved ramblings.

"If Mom was Qui-Gon, does that make Dad Yoda?" Dean was chuckling to himself as he crossed the second story warehouse floor.

Sam looked at his brother as he continued laughing as he retrieved the necessary means to a very satisfying end. Sam looked down once more, and grinned at the look of stunned surprise on Meg's frozen face – they'd finally wiped that smug smirk from her overbearing, superior countenance.

Stupid bitch, what did she know… Anakin… hah!

Sam looked up as Dean returned. He was still visibly gloating over Meg's demonic demise.

Sam smiled and suppressed a sigh. If you can't beat em…

"Hey Dean? Someone should have told her… Sith Happens!"

Sam had been wrong. Dean's laughter as he almost dropped the rock salt was the sweetest sound he'd heard in this or any other galaxy.