Remix: Promises, Promises [Dean, Sam, 361 words, rated PG-13], by rodlox
"I know what I said, Sammy," Dean said. And do we really have to talk about it now, before we've finished off this holy crapper?
"I know you know, Dean," Sam said. "I..." I know you won't forget, but I don't want you to hesitate either - and if the best way to make sure of that is to keep on your case, then damn right I'm going to keep reminding you of your promise.
"Do the two of you need a minute?" asked the bichir. "I can come back later if you like."
"Ironic, give the source," it snapped at Sam. "I helped build the place - I was a wee little scamp at the time. Those lot are using it for the wrong thing."
"Oh I'm sure," Dean said. And when it looked like his brother was about to start up again, "Don't even," Dean told Sam. "'Cause you know I'll do it when and only when I need to. You got any preferrred way to go? I can throw you off a bridge, make one fall on ya; demon-killer knife to the brain; detonate an angel on top of you. I'm sure our friend here can think of a few more."
"Oh certainly," said the bichir. "Slice open the abdomen and let the intestines slide out. An incision just under the ribcase gives you just enough space to slide your arm under the ribs and tug out the heart. Chain your feet to the ground and make you bend backwards over a kid-sized pyramid until your body tires and you fall. And my personal favorite - deflation."
"Riiight, like I'm letting you near my wallet."
A shame-on-you sound erupted from the bichir. "Human bodies have air. I simply -"
"Alright!" Sam interupted.
"Point made?" Dean asked. Inventive as the little shit is, he missed a few of the more inventive methods.
"Point made," Sam agreed, and as one, they vanquished the bichir.
Don't you ever make me do that to you, bro, Dean thought. 'Cause I sure as hell will, and I'll be on the next train after you.