Chapter Text
He takes the gun from the ground, slaps it in Sam’s hand. Dean moans softly in the background and Sam shakes his head, steps back.
Sam! he says. Sharp, forceful, and Sam straightens. Fourteen and still growing, but the horror in his wide eyes is too young, his pupils blown out to capture the light.
Look at me, he says, look at me! I can’t do it, okay? I can’t and Dean can’t. Sam’s eyes fill at that, his gaze strays to Dean, rocking against a tree.
You shoot it. You hear? You shot it and, this time, don’t miss!
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