Rule 25: Always make sure you have the right bullets to kill the monster

"You're sure regular bullets will kill it?" Sam asked, following his brother along the deserted road, fields of tall corn plants towering over the boys on either side.

"I'm sure, Sammy," Dean assured his brother, one hand gripping a pistol, while the other held a flashlight.

"But what if we need silver? Like for a shapeshifter or a werewolf?" the younger boy asked, "I wish Dad had answered his phone."

Dean turned on his brother, "I know what I'm doing, Sammy. Okay? It's a Black Dog. They're not like werewolves or shifters… they don't change shape."

The younger boy, startled by his sibling's aggression, did not respond for a moment. Then he swallowed thickly and nodded.

"Okay, Dean."

Despite his brother's confidence, Sam wished they'd been able to get ahold of their Dad so they could know for certain what killed a Black Dog. Dean sometimes thought he knew everything because he'd known about monsters for a long time. But Dean didn't know everything.

Sam bit his tongue and didn't argue with his brother any more. He knew he'd get nowhere questioning his sibling anyway.

Still, he gripped his own gun and flashlight just a little tighter.

W

"The last victim was here," Dean had paused at a crossroads surrounded on all sides by bristling fields of corn. The only light came from the boys' flashlights; the moon was dark tonight and refused to glow.

Sam peered nervously at the dirt road and wished he were back at their motel room, safely tucked into bed.

"What do we do now?" he asked his brother, who seemed to have everything planned out in his head.

"We wait," Dean told him, chest puffed out with self-importance, "And when we see the monster, we kill it."

So many questions arose in the younger boy's mind: How long would they have to wait? What would they do if the monster had moved on? What if the Black Dog found them first?

But he simply nodded and stepped into the tall corn stalks at the side of the road, concealing himself from anyone who might drive by, and readied himself for what he was sure to be a long night.

W

A faint rustling from behind Sam caused him to turn quickly where he stood. Shining his flashlight in the direction, the boy saw nothing and told himself it could have just been some kind of nocturnal animal- a raccoon or a fox- and not a monster.

He wasn't sure how long they had been waiting, Dean saw sitting beside him, head bowed, fast asleep and snoring lightly.

When the rustling stopped, Sam calmed down and continued his watch.

SPN

Dean bit his lip when the corn plants behind him began shaking furiously. Grip tightening on his gun, the boy squinted into the green, fibrous stalks to see if there was any threat.

His brother was lying on the ground, curled on his side, sleeping fitfully.

The corn continued to shiver and Dean jumped back, shocked, when a large black snout shoved out from between the plants and snapped at his face.

Stumbling back, the boy fumbled with his gun and fired off a shot that went wild.

The sound woke his brother and Sam sat up, an expression of confusion morphing into one of terror in seconds.

The Black Dog was much bigger than anticipated. The size of a small black bear, it stepped towards the boys with paws like dinner plates.

"SAM!" Dean shouted and fired a second shot at the monster, "GET UP!"

The younger boy staggered to his feet, but he was too slow to react and the Black Dog lunged at him, hit him and knocking him back onto the ground.

"SAM!" Dean cried as the monster leaned its head down to take a bite of his brother.

Firing a third shot, Dean's heart skipped a beat when the bullet found its target, lodging itself into the side of the Black Dog's chest.

The beast lifted its muzzle and yelped in pain but did not collapse, as it should have. Instead, it turned its yellow eyes on Dean.

"Shit," the boy whispered and fired point blank at the Black Dog's face.

One sulfur yellow eye exploded in a gush of aqueous fluid and the monster screamed in pain, shaking its head.

Dean stumbled backwards as the Black Dog, blinded in one eye but still very much a threat, lumbered towards him, salivating.

"SAM!" Dean shouted, "SHOOT IT!"

From behind the Black Dog, Dean spied his brother's body lying prone and unmoving on the ground.

With one final shot, Dean hit the monster in the chest right before the Black Dog rammed him and he landed heavily on his back, the wind knocked from his lungs.

Closing his eyes, waiting for the killing bite, Dean felt his bladder release and warm wetness leak into his jeans and into the dusty ground beneath.

Three shots rang out in quick succession and bite to his jugular never came. Slowly, the boy opened his eyes and saw his father standing over him with his own pistol and a murderous look in his eye.

"Dad," Dean croaked.

John reached down and grabbed his elder son's arm, pulling him up.

"Are you hurt?" he asked the boy brusquely.

Dean shook his head.

John turned away from him and went to Sam. Kneeling down, he gathered the younger child into his arms.

"Is he-" Dean began, his heart in his throat.

"Unconscious," his father replied, "Get in the car."

Dean nodded, "Yes sir."

The boy followed his father out of the cornfield and to the dirt road, where the Impala was idling on the shoulder.

Dean climbed into the backseat and John laid his brother beside him. Dean saw small cuts and scrapes on his brother's face and hands in the glow of the Chevy's interior light and felt a large goose egg on the back of his head.

John slammed the door as he climbed into the driver's seat and turned to face his sons.

"What in God's name were you thinking, Dean?" John asked his son, not yelling, but only just.

Dean looked down, feeling like an idiot.

"I was… I just…" he stammered.

"What, Dean?" John demanded.

"I thought I could kill a Black Dog without you," Dean admitted, the idea sounding stupid even as he said it.

"And you thought it was okay to bring your brother with you?" John asked and Dean nodded.

"What have I told you?" his father asked but the boy remained silent, feeling tears pricking at his eyes.

"What? Dean, what have I told you to do whenever I'm not here?"

"Don't leave the motel room unless its an emergency," Dean whispered, trying hard not to cry.

"And?" John pressed.

"And look after Sammy."

"Both of which you didn't do tonight," John told him.

"I just wanted to be like you," Dean tried to placate his father.

"I would never disobey my parents," John told him, "And I'd never put someone else's life in danger."

"But you go hunting with other people all the time," Dean argued, unable to stop himself.

"They know what they're doing, Dean! You and Sam don't!"

The boy flinched as though he'd been struck.

"You nearly got you and your brother killed!"

John turned around and remained silent for a long moment. As the silence grew, he turned the key in the ignition and the engine started.

"And you didn't even have the right bullets," he told his son, his voice low, "Silver bullets kill Black Dogs."

Dean nodded, closing his eyes and telling himself never to do something so stupid again.

Author's Note:

Rule comes from Masami Mistress of Fire.

Thanks to hecatess, jensensgirl3, StyxxsOmega, reannablue, Mama's Stories, SamDeanLover28 and Guest for reviewing.

This rule ended up being a little bit like Rule 18, with a lecture from John at the end, but I couldn't think of anything else for this. Hope you enjoy it anyway.

Please leave a 'rule' if you can think of one or a review.