A Shot in the Dark
"Damn fools! Couldn't let it go that I destroyed their precious cursed amulet! I think they're gone now. Guess they didn't expect me to fire back. I do give them points for tracking us down. You two okay?" John asked as he turned away from the now partially shot out window of their rented cabin, his shot gun at the ready.
"We're fine, dad," Dean answered as he stood from where he and Sam hit the deck before joining his father at the window.
"Keep your head down and take this!" John barked as he pushed twelve year old Dean back down to the floor and shoved another shotgun in his hands that had been leaning up against the wall. "Watch out for your brother and I'll be back after I verify that the perimeter is clear! Then we'll get our crap and get the hell out of here. "
Dean darted his head to the right to watch their father dash out of the door. His heart pounding, Dean dared to stand and move over to the window to look outside. He could see nothing in the dark woods that stretched for hundreds of acres past the small clearing that surrounded their cabin. Dean continued to look out, hoping to catch a glimpse of their father, while grasping the shotgun tighter and tighter still, although it was still yet too large for him to do so comfortably.
"Dean," Eight year old Sam said from his spot on the floor where he was leaning up against a dresser.
"Yeah?" Dean replied without tearing his gaze away from the scene outside. Where the hell was their father?
"I…I don't think I'm okay," Sam answered after a moment.
"What-," Dean began until he turned around and any further words got stuck in his throat.
Sam was holding out hands, now covered with blood, as he looked down at a red stain on his left side just above his hip.
"What the hell, Sammy!" Dean exclaimed as he dropped down to his knees in front of his little brother to get a closer look.
"De-an," Sam began to whine. "It's starting to hurt re-al bad."
"Don't worry," Dean said with as much authority and confidence that he could muster. "It's just a cut from glass from the window. Bleeds a lot, but no big deal-."
After Dean moved Sam's shirt up from the wound area, Dean's words again got caught in his throat.
This was no cut from glass.
He had seen this kind of wound before with their dad, but never this bad.
His brother had been shot!
"See, Sammy?" Dean said, trying his hardest not to let his voice shake with fear. "Just like I said. Just…just a bad cut. But I need you to do something for me, okay?"
Sam shook his head "yes" despite appearing as if he was trying very, very hard not to cry in front of his older brother.
Dean pulled off his top shirt, balled it up, and handed it to his little brother.
"Can you hold this against where it's bleeding? It's the best way to get it to stop, okay? Can you do that?" Dean asked as Sam took the shirt with a shaking hand and nodded yes again.
"Oh and Sam?" Dean said. "One more thing."
"It's okay to cry when things like this happen. I won't make fun of you or nothin'. I promise," Dean said.
Sam nodded again and Dean watched as tears began to slip down his cheeks. Dean knew he had step away for a moment and compose himself.
"I'm, uh, I'm just going to check if I see dad out there. I'll be right back," Dean said after he stood up.
"Come on, dad," Dean mumbled to himself after he returned to the window. "Please hurry back, please."
However, Dean's hopes were dashed when he heard more gunshots outside. Instinctively, Dean grabbed the shotgun from where he left it on the floor before throwing himself over Sam. A moment later, the shots stopped and all was silent.
Dean could feel Sam's heavy breathing and heart pounding beneath him.
"It's okay now, Sammy," Dean whispered as he began to pull back from his brother.
"Wait!" Sam implored as he grabbed Dean's shirt with his free hand. "Don't go out there! Please! Don't leave me alone here!"
Although Dean was dying to run outside to see if their father was okay, he knew Sam needed him more right there at that moment.
"Okay," Dean said as he settled next to his little brother. "I was...I was only moving over. I'm not going anywhere."
Dean watched as Sam nodded, looking relieved now, and leaned back against the dresser again.
"Dad's fine anyway. No one can get the drop on him. He'll be back in a minute and then we're gone," Dean whispered, more for his beneft than Sam's. "You doing okay?"
Sam bit his quivering lip, but didn't answer him. Dean knew it was likely because Sam didn't want to lie to him.
About five agonizing minutes later, Dean and Sam's heads turned quickly to the door of their cabin as they watched the doorknob slowly begin to turn. Dean grabbed the shotgun with shaking hands, leveled it at the door, and waited.
Thanks for reading and stay tuned for chapter 2!