Word Count : 680
A/N : thank you for reading my story. It means more to me then you know. Feel free to message me anytime with comments or anything you feel I could change.
Dean held the gun in his hand, glancing at Sam. "Come on, Sammy. Don't be a wimp."
Sam smiled, looking away. "What makes you think I wouldn't do it?"
"Because you're a nice guy. And the pumpkin has feelings." Dean says , laughing a bit. The two brothers had set up various pumpkins and cans for Sam to shoot, for practice.
"It does not." Sam laughed, a smile on his face. Dean liked how happy Sam was. Sam hadn't been feeling that way in a few days now. Sam stepped forward, taking the gun from Dean and getting in a shooting position. "So... I just pull the trigger?"
"Yep." Dean nodded, stepping back. He watched as Sam pulled the trigger and the bullet hit a pumpkin , busting it into various pieces. He patted Sam on the back. "Well done, bud."
Sam smiled, looking at Dean. "I actually did it! I can't wait to show Dad."
—————-
It had been a few hours since practice. Dean was at a local bar. He'd used a fake ID to get in and acquire a drink. He was a little drunk now. He looked up when he saw Sam walk through the front door. He stood up, looking at Sam. "Sammy?"
Sam made eye contact with Dean and ran for the door, rushing out. Dean followed him, pulling him back. "Hey. What's wrong?"
Sam stepped back, kicking some rocks angrily and crying out. People in the parking lot stared and whispered.
Sam looked at Dean, tears streaming down his face. "Dad didn't care. At all. I told him you taught me how to aim and shoot. And that I finally did it. I was so excited but... he didn't care!"
Dean stepped close to Sam, pulling him close. He stroked Sam's back , who sobbed into his shoulder. "I know Dad isn't always the best. But I'm here for you. Always."
"Promise?" Sam sniffled.
Dean smiled. "I promise. Now come on. Let's get back to where we're staying."
A woman stepped over. "I'm sorry to intrude but... is he alright? I saw him getting upset."
Sam looked down, fixing his jacket. "I'm okay, ma'am." But he didn't realize the bruises on his face were visible.
"Son, are those bruises? Who hurt you?" The woman asked worriedly.
"No one." Sam lied quickly, standing close to Dean. Dean knew that John had been hitting Sam. Dean gave Sam a look, hoping Sam would catch on. And he did. They had various plans for situations like this. Like Sam faking passing out so they would have to go home.
Sam suddenly collapsed , Dean catching him before he hit the ground. He knew Sam was just pretending, to get the woman off their case. He looked at the woman. "My brother just needs his inhaler. It's at home."
"Should I call an ambulance?" She asked, concern lacing her voice.
"No." Dean said, lifting Sam up and carrying his body to the car. He made sure he was secure before getting in and driving off. Once they were away, Sam opened his eyes and sat up in the backseat.
"Are we good?" Sam asked, laying back down. He felt really tired.
Dean looked back at him, nodding and then returning his eyes to the road. "Yeah. Look, I would've just told her but..."
"I know. Dad would .... get really, really mad." Sam yawned, laying his head down. "I wish we wouldn't have situations like that. I wanna run away. Don't you?"
"We can't. And you know that."
"But-"
"No, Sam! Go to sleep." Dean yelled. He felt bad for yelling but he had to make sure Sam understood. Sam flinched at Dean's yelling. But, he did as he said and closed his eyes.
Dean could hear Sam snoring in the backseat and sighed deeply. He wished Sam didn't have this life. But there was nothing he could do.