Disclaimer etc, see Chapter 1
NET KNOTS
Chapter 2
With a heroic effort of willpower, Sam kept his face sober even in the face of Dean's cry heading comically towards what could only be termed (no offence, ladies) the 'girlish shriek' decibel level, though fortunately this was one of the good motels with decently substantial dividing walls. Right now so much as a faint lip-twitch would probably push Dean over the edge in fratricide. Sure, Dean would be genuinely sorry after he'd throttled his baby brother to death, but that wouldn't be much good to Sam by then.
Dean actually almost panted as he fought the urge to wrap his hands around his idiotic brother's neck and squeeze…he could do it…and once he'd explained, there wasn't a court in any land that wouldn't agree: justifiable homicide…but this was Sammy, so he roared, "are you tripping!"
"Dean," Sam said in a voice of calm reasonableness, taking the calculated risk of sitting down on one of the two chairs that belonged to the twin room's small, circular table in the (almost) certain knowledge that Dean wouldn't simply leap at him and start pummelling him.
"Don't Dean me!" the older brother sucked in a breath and consciously got a grip as he heard his own outrage echo in the confines of the room and realised that his voice was less 'angry lion's roar' and more 'aged spinster aunt on a chair after spotting a mouse' in its pitch. "What were you thinking?"
"That the Demon can destroy us whenever it wants!"
Continued in Chapter 3…
© 2006, Catherine D. Stewart