Pain Tolerance
a/n So this another holiday installation, and yes, I know I skipped a few important holidays, but I'm going by the ones I celebrate. Sorry.
"Dean, please! I'm begging you to just shoot me!"
The older hunter's gaze rested on his baby brother, who was curled up on the motel bed, hands clutching at his shaggy head.
It was clear that Sam was losing control. How much longer he could hold out and remain sane was anybody's guess, and he just wanted it to be over. His brown, pleading puppy dog eyes met Dean's unyielding, forest green ones.
The big brother came off his own bed to move closer and stand over Sam, his expression utterly serious as he looked down on the younger hunter. "Sammy, I wouldn't kill you when you were possessed and murdered that hunter. I wouldn't kill you when you were out of your head of demon blood. I wouldn't kill you when you went off with that hellspawn, black-eyed bitch. I wouldn't kill you when you started the freakin' apocalypse. I wouldn't kill you when we found out Lucy needed to ride you around to take over the world."
He paused and let it all sink in.
Then he started laughing. "And you seriously think I'd kill you just 'cause some psycho shaman voodoo man put a hex on you so that Christmas songs are playing in your head 24/7? Don't kid yourself, dude. I'm not gonna kill you just 'cause you're in pain since you hate Christmas and the muzak sucks."
"You suck, Dean!" Sam groaned.
And Dean just kept laughing until Bobby called with a ritual to reverse the hex.
Later, as they lit up the house the body of the shaman was in, Dean turned and punched his little brother's shoulder. "Merry Christmas, Sammy!"
Sam just gave a long-suffering sigh as Dean popped a candy cane in his mouth and offered another to Sam.
fin.
Happy Holidays, y'all!
Sincerely, t.h. and the Winchesters
