Disclaimer: This is the part where I say no in a cool, funny and original way.

A/N: Howdy. Haha... who would have ever thought I'd write a one shot called 'One Shot'... well, I did. I wrote it quite a few months ago, and it's got nothing to do with anything supernatural. But it is a pretty ok one shot, that I hope y'all will enjoy. So sally forth!

Title: One Shot
Genre: Yeah... angst.
Summary: It started with the brothers walking into a corner store late into the night... and before anyone knew what happened, a man in a mask tried to hold up the place, and Sam was on the floor, shot in the chest.

One Shot

Dean watched. That's all he could do as his breath stopped abruptly in his throat, and his heart nearly stopped. The cold feeling didn't even have time to form in his stomach, and his body went straight to being completely numb.

Coffee.

It was three in the morning, and Dean had been burning the candle at both ends to get to a small town outside of Denver before dawn. Sam had been sleeping awkwardly against the car window, and Dean debated whether he would wake his brother when going into the store to get some coffee. He needed the caffeine, but more importantly, since knowing about Sam's foreshadowed future, he needed to always keep an eye on Sam. So he woke up Sammy.

To get a God damn drink.

7-11 was famed for being open at all hours of the night, and was also famed for being robbed at those vulnerable hours. Dean paid no attention to these statistics-- after all, they were just running in to get a quick cup of coffee and maybe a chocolate bar or something. Dean remembered as he walked in he noticed the man with a hood hovering near the cashier, and internally cussed as he realized he wasn't carrying his gun on him. It didn't matter though, they wouldn't be in there long.

Sam was standing half asleep near the checkout sifting through some magazines with a bottle of pop in one hand as Dean stood nearly twenty feet away filling the largest cup he could find with the liquid gold. Sam's shout of 'hey!' was followed quickly by the pop of a gun with a silencer on it.

That's when Dean spun around, the coffee falling to the ground as he watched.

Sam now lay on the ground, motionless, his back to Dean. It all seemed so sudden-- the split second of making sure that he put the right amount of sugar in his coffee to watching his precious little brother fall down dead to the ground.

"Sammy…" words escaped Dean's mouth and he took a step towards the fallen body.

"Even think about moving towards him, and the next bullet goes through your head," the man with the hood turned around, and Dean noticed he now had a mask on as well.

Dean wasn't about to argue with the words so instead stood still and let his heart beat furiously behind his leather jacket.

"Empty the register out now," the man turned his attention to the cashier who couldn't have been more than seventeen, "And if you even think of trying anything, I'll shoot you too."

"O-Ok," the kid stuttered and with a small 'ding' he opened up the register.

"Nice and easy," the masked man smiled behind his mask, "We don't want to get anyone's attention with this. The sooner I get out of here, the sooner you can get this asshole to the morgue."

A low hissing laugh came from his concealed face, and Dean would have jumped him if it weren't for the fact that the gun was still pointed at his head, and the fact that his body, at that moment, was refusing to do anything but breath and concentrate on one thought.

'Sammy's dead!'

"Got anything else back there?" the man asked as the cashier handed him a bag filled with money.

"N-No, that's it, I swear," tears came down the kids face.

"Good," he turned towards Dean, "I'll be seeing you."

One step was taken before it happened. In one flash, one instant, the lives of everyone in the small convenience store changed. No one knew it would happen-- no one saw it coming. All the masked man had to do was leave the store. The scared cashier had completely forgotten about the untouched silent alarm under the counter, and so the robber was home free. If it wasn't for one thing.

Sam's arm shot out and grabbed the leg of the hooded fiend, who immediately fell forwards, cracking his head with a solid 'thunk' against the counter. He'd no more gotten out a pain filled moan than Dean had pounced at him, digging his foot securely into robber's back. Holding him down, Dean reached down and took the gun from his hand.

"Call the police!" Dean ordered the stunned cashier.

"O-Ok."

Dean stared in awe down at Sam, who had rolled onto his back, and was taking deep breaths while slowly unzipping his sweater. Wanting nothing more than to check his brother out, Dean knew he also couldn't risk letting the hooded man up.

Slowly the elder brother bent down so as his head was right near the man's, "This is for shooting my brother."

A solitary crack to the side of the head with the handle of the gun was all it took to cause the robber to be unconscious on the ground.

"Sammy," Dean rushed over, and collapsed down to his knees near Sam, "… Sammy…"

"Give… me… a second," Sam breathed painfully, his eyes closed.

Dean's face scrunched up in anguish and worry. He didn't understand it-- he saw Sam get shot at close range, and yet there was no blood anywhere. A burnt hole in the front of Sam's blue t-shirt showed the bullet hole directly over where his heart was.

"Sammy, please let me look," Dean whispered out.

Sam opened his eyes, a small smile washing over his lips, "That's another one… we owe B-Bobby…"

"What are you talking about Sam?" Dean's voice was hoarse.

Sam pulled up his shirt to reveal what looked like a bullet proof vest on underneath. Dean collapsed fully to the ground and covered his face with his hand.

"You boys take these," Bobby's words floated in Dean's head, "You never know what you'll run into out there."

Dean had though the vests were stupid, and shoved them in the trunk. Sam, on the other hand, was fascinated with them, and put one on to see what they were like. That was early in the afternoon, and Dean had long since forgot about it.

Until now.

"Thank God," Dean finally whispered out, uncovering his face, and looking down at Sam.

"Dean," Sam grunted out, and started to sit up, "Are you ok?"

"Take it easy Sam!" Dean demanded.

Sam nodded and sat on the ground just feet away from the man that had caused so much trouble. The sound of sirens could now be heard off in the distance.

"I'm fine Sammy," Dean spoke, and could feel the tears which he refused to let loose, "But dude… you could have died."

"Not the first time," Sam grinned out.

"God I hate you," Dean laughed quietly and looked down, "I swear you're fricken going to kill me before anything else does."

Dean stood to wobbly feet, and reached a hand down to Sam with a firm 'Go slow'. Once to his feet, Dean held tightly onto his little brother's arm, not wanting to let go at any point in the near future.

"Are you alright Sammy?" Dean breathed out.

Sam nodded his head, "Yeah."

Dean swallowed hard, "Good."

"Wow," the cashier walked around the counter and looked down at the man on the floor and then up at the Winchester brothers, "That was unbelievable."

"Thanks," Dean shot out a grin, "We try."

"If there's anything I can do for you guys-- anything," the cashier looked sincerely at them, "Just name it."

Dean pondered this a moment, giving a sideways look at Sam, and then out into the parking lot to his car, "Yeah… I could really use some coffee..."

The End.