A/N: Nobody kill me, ok? I didn't mean to be so evil! Also, the boys are about 5 and 9.
"Sammy? Where'd you get that?" Sammy spun to face the doorway, hiding the gun behind his back, eyes wide at being caught.
"Found it," he said.
"Found it where?" Sammy pointed to the chest in the corner of the room. It was usually locked, but it hadn't been today and Sammy had been looking for a toy and found a gun. Daddy always said guns weren't toys but Daddy and Dean sure used them a lot and Sammy wanted to grow up just like Daddy and Dean. "Come on, Sammy, you know you're not allowed to play with the guns." Sammy got an idea. He pointed the gun at his brother. Dean raised his hands, "Woah, Sammy. Watch where you're pointing that thing!" Sammy pulled down the little latch thing on the gun like he'd seen his daddy do. "Sammy, what're you doing?"
"Playing. Dean, I got a real gun, it'll be like playing monsters but more real!" Sammy enthused.
"I gotta say, Sammy, I quite like just the two fingers," Dean aimed and shot his finger gun at Sammy, making all appropriate noises, then blew the smoke away afterwards, "See? Works just as good!"
"No, but Dean, this is a real gun! I can be just like Daddy, now! Watch!" Dean's eyes went wide like he was worried. Silly Dean. There was a huge bang and the gun jumped in his hands. Daddy made it look much easier to pull the trigger and keep the gun still. Sammy giggled when Dean dropped to the floor like a stone. Dean was playing along now, Sammy knew he would. Dean was always better at dying, he said Sammy always took too long dying, things didn't look before they fell over, they just fell over. Dean was better at everything than Sammy, that's why he was the best big brother in the world.
"I haveta burn you now, Dean, don't I?" but Dean didn't say anything because dead things can't talk and Dean always remembered those kinds of things. "Ok, I'll go get the burning stuff." Sammy put the gun back in the chest because Dean was cool and played along but Daddy would yell at him. He made a pyre out of the bedclothes.
"Dean, you gotta come get on here 'cause I can't lift you. Dean?" Dean was being annoying, he was going to make Sammy drag him all the way there. Sammy stomped over and grabbed Dean's arm but stopped when he saw Dean's face.
"Dean? Dean? What's wrong with your head? You shouldn'ta spilled the paint everywhere, Daddy'll get mad," Dean had even sprayed the paint up the wall, he was always good at details like that. Like the way he wasn't blinking, too, he was good at that. Sammy giggled. "Bet I can make you blink, Dean!" He clapped in front of Dean's face but Dean kept his eyes open, this was why he was the best at being dead. So Sammy got down on his hands and knees and blew in Dean's face, because this trick always worked. But this time, it didn't. Sammy blew again, but Dean's eyes stayed open. Sammy blew the hardest he possibly could, even spitting a bit. Dean didn't blink.
"Ok, Dean, you win, you can blink now." Dean didn't blink. "I said you can blink now, Dean." Dean didn't blink. "Dean! Stop it!" Sammy pushed Dean, Dean did nothing. "Dean! Blink! Dean! Stop it!" He hit Dean, Dean did nothing. "Dean, stop it, it isn't fun now." He stood up and pulled on Dean's arm. "I don't like it, Dean, stop it!" He shook Dean's arm. "Deeeaaan!" he whined, "Blink, Dean, you're scaring me! Deeaaan!"
Hope you... well, maybe enjoyed isn't the word... hope you don't think I'm too horrible?