Mandancie's prompt: A simple day going shopping for supplies goes wrong.
"Sammy, put that down, please," Dean said as he pushed the cart up the aisle.
Sam frowned, but put back the can of SpaghettiOs. He crossed his over his chest and stomped his foot.
"Oh, don't you start with this shit," Dean warned. "We already have cans of that stuff filling the cupboard. You need something healthier if we're going to get some meat back on your bones."
Sam huffed and looked down at the floor.
"Fine, one can," Dean said. He knew how to pick his battles, and he wasn't about to have an epic throw down in aisle two over a can of nutritionally challenged food.
Sam gave him a satisfied smile and then grabbed the can of SpaghettiOs, tossing them in the cart.
Dean rolled his eyes and then pushed the cart forward. "If we hurry, we can still make the game."
They made their way through the rest of the aisles, and as they rounded the corner to the checkout, something caught Dean's eye. The cashier's face was tight with fear and he was sweating, his hands rigid on the counter. Dean eyes surveyed the scene and his gaze came to rest on a figure in black.
Dean turned quickly and put a finger over his mouth, shushing Sam. Sam looked at him curiously but didn't speak. Dean grabbed his brother's shoulders and guided him back into the safety of the aisle.
Sam went to speak but Dean shook his head and whispered, "Sam, listen to me, okay?"
Sam nodded, staying silent. He must have known something was amiss as there was fear in his eyes.
"I need you to stay here," Dean said firmly. "No matter what you hear. You understand me?"
Sam pursed his lips but nodded tightly.
"Good, I'll be right back."
Dean peered around the corner of the aisle and caught sight of the robber. He was intimidating the young cashier, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him down to the counter.
"Hey, jerkwad," Dean said, reaching back and grabbing his gun. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"
The robber turned, looking surprised. Dean saw the gun for the first time and swallowed. Maybe this wasn't going to be as cut and dry as he'd thought. The robber's hand wavered slightly as he pointed the gun at Dean.
"Wrong move, bucko." Dean raised his own weapon, leveling the sights on the robber. "Now, if I were you, I would put down that gun and call it a day."
Dean could hear the distant sounds of police sirens and he knew help was on its way. He only needed to stall this guy a bit longer and then the cops could swoop in and save the day.
Dean's sharp gaze caught the man's finger twitch just in time to hit the deck. "Son of a bitch!" Dean cursed as he pushed himself back up and ducked behind a nearby display.
"De?" Sam's voice came from the aisle. Dean looked over and Sam looking terrified. Dean put up a hand to stop him from coming closer, but it didn't work. Sam took a hesitant step forward, followed by another.
"Sammy, stay!" Dean snapped.
Sam wrung his hands and looked around, panicked. "De?"
"Please, Sammy. Don't move," Dean pleaded.
Sam's breaths began to come in pants, and Dean knew it wasn't long before his brother broke down.
Dean gripped his gun and leaned to look around the display. The robber caught sight of him, and a second later, another shot rang through the air.
Sam began to shake and stepped towards Dean again. "So help me god, Sammy, if you take another step!"
The robber came into view and Dean aimed, firing once. The bullet hit its mark and the robber stumbled back. Dean breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe that would be enough to scare the guy out of the store.
He glanced back at Sam, who was visibly shaking now. He fisted his hands at his sides and then he did it, he stepped forward again, right out into the open. Dean didn't have a second to react before he heard the next gunshot. He watched in horror as his brother's face contorted in pain and he fell to his knees, clutching his stomach, blood already seeping from between his fingers.