Supernatural: The Binds That Tie (The Two Bullet Solution Remix)
Original Fic: The Binds That Tie, by pdxscaper
Remix: The Binds That Tie (The Two Bullet Solution Remix) [Dean, Sam, 300 words, rated PG-13], by emmademarais
Dean's hands grip the edges of the chipped and dirty motel room sink; he warned Sam not to bring up his promise again, but Sam can't keep from salting that open wound.
"I just need to be sure, Dean." Sam has on his earnest face, but Dean's patience has run out. Whirling around, he backs Sam up in the cramped motel room, his anger finally demanding a voice.
"Yes, Sammy. I will kill you if you go evil, just like I promised. Now why don't you tell me how you want me to kill you, huh? A bullet through your brain?" He grabs a gun from their bag and presses the barrel to Sam's temple for a heart-racing second before tossing it aside in favor of a knife. "A knife to your heart so I'll have your blood on my hands?" He mimes the violent stabbing motion, stopping a mere fraction of an inch shy of the center of Sam's chest.
Fueled by Sam's annoyingly stoic response, Dean throws him up against a wall, pressing the sharp blade into his neck. "How about I slit your throat? Would that make you happy, Sammy?"
A choked off anguished sound escapes Sam and Dean can't do this anymore. The knife more falls from his hand than he drops it as he turns away from his brother, unable to look at him.
The ire is gone now - spent - leaving him empty and drained. He's just tired, tired of his life and all it costs him.
"I'll do it," Dean says woodenly. "If I have to, I will kill you. So stop bringing it up, damn it."
If he loses Sam to evil he will keep his promise; he will shoot his brother dead.
But the next bullet will be for himself.
Remix: The Binds That Tie (The Two Bullet Solution Remix) [Dean, Sam, 300 words, rated PG-13], by emmademarais
Dean's hands grip the edges of the chipped and dirty motel room sink; he warned Sam not to bring up his promise again, but Sam can't keep from salting that open wound.
"I just need to be sure, Dean." Sam has on his earnest face, but Dean's patience has run out. Whirling around, he backs Sam up in the cramped motel room, his anger finally demanding a voice.
"Yes, Sammy. I will kill you if you go evil, just like I promised. Now why don't you tell me how you want me to kill you, huh? A bullet through your brain?" He grabs a gun from their bag and presses the barrel to Sam's temple for a heart-racing second before tossing it aside in favor of a knife. "A knife to your heart so I'll have your blood on my hands?" He mimes the violent stabbing motion, stopping a mere fraction of an inch shy of the center of Sam's chest.
Fueled by Sam's annoyingly stoic response, Dean throws him up against a wall, pressing the sharp blade into his neck. "How about I slit your throat? Would that make you happy, Sammy?"
A choked off anguished sound escapes Sam and Dean can't do this anymore. The knife more falls from his hand than he drops it as he turns away from his brother, unable to look at him.
The ire is gone now - spent - leaving him empty and drained. He's just tired, tired of his life and all it costs him.
"I'll do it," Dean says woodenly. "If I have to, I will kill you. So stop bringing it up, damn it."
If he loses Sam to evil he will keep his promise; he will shoot his brother dead.
But the next bullet will be for himself.