"Eye for an Eye, GSW for a GSW"
Title: "Eye for an Eye, GSW for a GSW"
Author: Luxorien
Words: 395
Rating: R (violence and language)
Genre: Gen, AU
Pairings: None
Spoilers: For "Bad Day at Black Rock"
Summary: Apparently the Dean Winchester in my head is more of a badass than the Dean Winchester onscreen. Or maybe certain writers don't know their own character. Whatever. This is rewrite of that climatic scene. I feel better now that it's out of my head and screaming its head off to teh intarwebs.
"You don't just go around shooting people!"
"Oh, please. It's just a flesh wound. I can aim."
Dean's brain gave up conscious control of his limbs for a short while. When he came back to himself, he was straddling Bela, the gun in his hand. It had discharged when he made his play for it. He knew this because he could smell the powder and he'd felt the recoil. Strangely, he didn't remember hearing anything.
His first conscious act was to place the muzzle of the semiauto against her knee. Their eyes met as the metal bit through her clothes and into the skin. Her gaze challenged him, either because she didn't think he'd do it, or because she was too proud to beg.
Irrelevant, either way. He pulled the trigger. A few pounds of pressure, and the joint shattered messily, spattering him with blood and bits of bone. Bela screamed and Sam cried out, but he ignored both of them. Grabbed the bitch's chin, forced her to look past the pain and see him. She eventually blinked away the agony long enough to pay attention. He could feel her teeth grinding together where his fingers were pressed into her jaw.
"I ever see you again, the next one goes in your skull, you get me?"
He pushed the hot barrel against her temple for added emphasis. She trembled, but didn't react.
"You get me?" he asked again, drawing out each syllable with boiling anger. Her eyes followed his trigger finger as it drifted back inside the guard and started inching backwards. She swallowed, and offered an almost imperceptible nod.
Dean sprang to his feet and got to work burning the goddamn stupid rabbit's foot. Sam was saying something, but he couldn't hear it over the flames. He was so fucking pissed he couldn't get his sensory input straight.
As he took off his top layer and tied it around the wound in Sam's arm, it finally registered that Sam was objecting to his treatment of Bela.
"I don't see you bending over backwards to help her," he replied shortly.
Sam's mouth opened and closed a few times, but he didn't say anything. He looked back at her bleeding figure twice as they walked back to the Impala. Dean didn't. He was too busy running over the list of possible complications, and making plans for a hospital heist.
Just a fucking flesh wound. Christ, what an idiot.
Author: Luxorien
Words: 395
Rating: R (violence and language)
Genre: Gen, AU
Pairings: None
Spoilers: For "Bad Day at Black Rock"
Summary: Apparently the Dean Winchester in my head is more of a badass than the Dean Winchester onscreen. Or maybe certain writers don't know their own character. Whatever. This is rewrite of that climatic scene. I feel better now that it's out of my head and screaming its head off to teh intarwebs.
"You don't just go around shooting people!"
"Oh, please. It's just a flesh wound. I can aim."
Dean's brain gave up conscious control of his limbs for a short while. When he came back to himself, he was straddling Bela, the gun in his hand. It had discharged when he made his play for it. He knew this because he could smell the powder and he'd felt the recoil. Strangely, he didn't remember hearing anything.
His first conscious act was to place the muzzle of the semiauto against her knee. Their eyes met as the metal bit through her clothes and into the skin. Her gaze challenged him, either because she didn't think he'd do it, or because she was too proud to beg.
Irrelevant, either way. He pulled the trigger. A few pounds of pressure, and the joint shattered messily, spattering him with blood and bits of bone. Bela screamed and Sam cried out, but he ignored both of them. Grabbed the bitch's chin, forced her to look past the pain and see him. She eventually blinked away the agony long enough to pay attention. He could feel her teeth grinding together where his fingers were pressed into her jaw.
"I ever see you again, the next one goes in your skull, you get me?"
He pushed the hot barrel against her temple for added emphasis. She trembled, but didn't react.
"You get me?" he asked again, drawing out each syllable with boiling anger. Her eyes followed his trigger finger as it drifted back inside the guard and started inching backwards. She swallowed, and offered an almost imperceptible nod.
Dean sprang to his feet and got to work burning the goddamn stupid rabbit's foot. Sam was saying something, but he couldn't hear it over the flames. He was so fucking pissed he couldn't get his sensory input straight.
As he took off his top layer and tied it around the wound in Sam's arm, it finally registered that Sam was objecting to his treatment of Bela.
"I don't see you bending over backwards to help her," he replied shortly.
Sam's mouth opened and closed a few times, but he didn't say anything. He looked back at her bleeding figure twice as they walked back to the Impala. Dean didn't. He was too busy running over the list of possible complications, and making plans for a hospital heist.
Just a fucking flesh wound. Christ, what an idiot.