A/N: I own nothing but a warped imagination and a strange sense of humour.
This is kind of a sequel to 'The Curse Of The Brown Flip-Flops'.
Sam Winchester and the Magical Satchel
Handbag.
Lady Purse.
Gay Bag.
Fugly.
Guy Purse.
Fag Bag.
Just Plain Gay.
Dean has many words to describe Sam's laptop holder of choice. Sure, he knows exactly how much it annoys his not so little brother when he shouts some of them extremely loudly in public, but he refuses to refer to it as anything that could be perceived as normal or cool. No matter how many times Sam tells him—shouts it in his face—Dean flat out refuses to call it what Sam wants.
A satchel.
To Dean, Sam's 'satchel' is the un-coolest, campest and most embarrassing item his brother owns since the brown flip-flops thankfully perished, never to be seen again. The satchel has followed in the style of the brown flip-flops, being a colour that Dean can only describe as 'dog crap brown'. Once the flip-flops were out of the picture, Dean was hopeful that his brother would go back to appearing more manly. Obviously he was very, very wrong.
Under any other circumstances Dean would have taken the lady purse the day it got to be too much and burnt it, however he feels slightly guilty about the flip-flop incident and he's pretty sure Sam wouldn't be as forgiving as he had been about his beloved sandals. Besides, he understands his brother needs something to carry his beloved laptop around in and sadly—much to Deans dismay—a plastic bag just isn't good enough.
"Sammy hurry up, they stop serving breakfast at eleven!" Dean shouted through the bathroom door. Sam had been in there what Dean considered to be an hour, when in fact it was only two minutes. "If I miss breakfast dude, you're dead." He added, giving the door a small kick for effect.
It quickly opened to reveal a rather annoyed looking Sam. "Dean," he started, pursing his lips into a thin line. "Firstly, if you'd got up earlier we wouldn't be in a rush and secondly, you shouting and kicking the door isn't going to make me get washed and dressed quicker!" he snapped, ensuring his centre parting was correct.
"What the hell have you been doing in there?" Dean asked, ignoring his brothers clear irritation, peering round him into the bathroom before narrowing his eyes. "Have you been Y'know—"
"—No, I'm not you Dean." He said snootily, scowling in disgust.
"Well either that or you've been in there a life time doing your hair…come to mention it, your curtains do look rather central today," he mocked, reaching up and flicking one side of Sam's hair with a smug grin only for his hand to be slapped away. "Ooo, someone's touchy this morning," he cooed, "Now come on, breakfast." He grinned at Sam one last time before heading towards the door.
Sam sighed, shut the bathroom door and headed from the room after his brother. Their latest demon hunting had led them to Belleville New Jersey, reports of teenagers mysteriously going missing without a trace. So far, they'd come up with nothing. They'd been asking questions and following 'leads' for around a week, but everything turned up cold and they were no closer to solving the mystery. Sam was seriously starting to wonder if there was anything supernatural about the disappearances at all.
After breakfast Dean informed him he had a new lead that he wanted to check out and told Sam to go back and keep searching for anything that stood out or sounded familiar in the old newspaper archives. Sam strolled back to the room, shuddering slightly in the cold New Jersey air. He quickly shut the motel room door, rubbing his hands together for warmth. He wandered over to his bed, picking up his beloved satchel and removing his laptop.
He leaned back against the headboard, wiggling around a bit before sighing contently in comfort. He placed the laptop on his knees and opened it up. Before he had a chance to press the on button the screen came to life, an article from some old foreign newspaper popping up along with another open tab showing a translation box. Sam furrowed his eyebrows before clicking on the second tab to find the next of the article already entered into the translation box.
He placed his laptop on his bed and opened Dean's bedside drawer, taking out his small hand-held automatic pistol. He sprung from the bed like a panther before cautiously stepping towards the small wooden wardrobe. Gripping the gun tightly in his right hand and gulping, he quickly pulled open the door before jumping round to the front and taking aim. There was nothing and no one there.
His eyes quickly jolted towards the bathroom door. Again, as quick and as quietly, he crept towards the door, placing his back up against it. He reached out, swiftly turning the handle and pushing the door open before spinning quickly and taking aim – again nothing there. He quickly pulled back the shower curtain for good measure, but it too was clear. He was perplexed, someone must have been in the room.
When Dean returned not long after he stepped in to find the room completely turned up side down. "Please tell me you haven't bought some lady sandals that have gone missing? 'cause this time, it seriously has nothing to do with me." Dean stated, looking around at the trashed room.
Sam's head suddenly popped up from the side of the bed, his messy hair covering part of his face. He raised his hands, creating a messy central parting before jumping to his feet. He dashed towards Dean, pulling him quickly into the room before popping his head out the door, looking left and right before darting back inside and closing it again.
"Dude, are you possessed or something?" Dean asked, peering at Sam's eyes whilst making a move to poke his face. Sam slapped his hand away before turning in a full circle before looking back to his brother.
He placed his hands on Dean's shoulders, his eyes wide. "Dean, someone or something's been in our room."
Dean quirked an eyebrow. "What? How'd you know?"
"My laptop," Sam said, rushing over to his bed and beckoning Dean over. "Someone's been on it and they left this." He turned the screen to face Dean. Dean squinted at it in confusion. "A clue." Sam informed him, pointing his finger towards the screen.
"Okay Mystery Inc., what the hell are you going on about?" he asked, sitting down on the bed. "Oh, and try to speak in full sentences this time."
"When I came back and turned on my laptop, this popped up." Dean's look remained confused. "It's an article from an old foreign newspaper and it was fully typed into the translator." Sam said, waiting for a reaction.
"And what does it say…?" Dean drawled out, casting Sam a look that said please just get on with it dude.
Sam adjusted before moistening his lips, his brows furrowed. "It's basically about a cult of teenagers who around 50 years ago in Italy came to believe the sun was going to get so hot it would burn everything on the earth. These teenagers got together to try to figure out ways they could avoid the disaster and be the only survivors to tell the tale."
"Seriously?" Dean mocked with a snort." Stupid teenagers…"
"Shut up and listen." Sam ordered as Dean's eyes widened and his mouth snapped open as he mouthed a 'how rude'. "Anyway, one of the teenagers got the idea if the sun was going to burn everything on the earth, why didn't they move under it."
"So basically these kids right now could have went all Demolition Man style and could be right beneath us?" he asked, looking down at the floor before banging his foot as Sam quirked an eyebrow.
"Dean?" he looked up, "they're not going to hear that." He said, pouting slightly.
"I know that, do you think I'm an idiot?" Dean snapped, glaring towards his younger brother.
"Do you really want me to answer that?" Sam says, narrowing his eyes at his brother.
"Pft, says you who believed there was such a thing as a flip-flop stealing demon," Dean mocked, giving a small chuckle before continuing, "and who's turned our entire room upside down twice, looking for something that doesn't even exist."
"How do you know someone hasn't been in our room this time?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows and widening his eyes in a rather manic fashion.
"Who the hell would break into our room and put that on the screen? The only person who knows where we are and why we're her is Bobby and I don't think he's really the type to act the Father Christmas of the hunter world." He chuckled as an image of Bobby in a red suit, hat and white fluffy beard popped into his head.
Sam rolled his eyes. "Then who did it Dean? Someone must know what we've been trying to do."
"I don't know, and I really don't care. If someone or something has done it, they obviously don't want us dead, they're helping. So, instead of being nosy and scaring whoever or whatever is off, I say we leave it to its own natural devices." He said moving over to his bed, "Besides, it obviously isn't looking for a 'thank you', it didn't even leave a note or its name or any clue that it was even here, apart from that…if you can call it a clue."
"I think we should at least check it out." Sam said, closing his laptop and getting to his feet.
Dean furrowed his eyebrows and looked up, "But I'm comfortable now, can't we just leave the sewer hunting till tomorrow morning?" he asked, shifting about to make himself more comfortable.
"No we can't, it's just past noon so we've got plenty of time."
"Why is it that every time some little adventure's going to leave us reeking like your old socks do you insist on jumping on in?"
"I just think this is something we should check out right away, if what the article says is true, then there's no need for us to hang around in this place any longer." Sam insisted, shoving his laptop back into his bag before sliding it under the bed. "Now come on."
After much huffing and protesting on Dean's part as Sam tried to drag him leg first towards the door and much screaming like a girl on Sam's part when Dean's flailing free foot kicked him in the face, they were soon stood above a sewer grate. Dean wasn't impressed. He stood, hands buried deep within his pockets looking down at the opening of the sewer in pure disgust as Sam used the crow bar to lift the lid. It smelt like rotten three week old shit and garbage.
Dean scrunched his nose and covered his airways with his arm as Sam prepared to climb in. "You can handle this one without me, if there's any problems I'll be back at the motel with food and a porno." Dean said, making to head off only to have Sam grab the material of his jeans tightly and tug him backwards. He stumbled, almost falling head first into the hole. "Watch it!" he snapped, straightening himself up and tugging his leg away from Sam.
"Quit complaining, the sooner we get down here the quicker we can get out of this place and to somewhere a bit warmer. I swear my toes are getting frost bite." And with that he began to make his way down the ladder and away from the sound of Dean muttering something about 'Frozen toe hair' before his voice became muffled then the sound of his laughter as he climbed down after Sam. Dean was still chuckling when his feet splashed into the water on the floor of the sewer.
"You're so cleaning the shit off these boots." He informed Sam who was stood, his eyebrows furrowed as he shone a torch down the tunnels before shoving another torch into Dean's chest. Sam pondered for a moment, listening carefully to the distant sound of running water before heading off to the left with Dean following behind him slowly.
They'd been walking for about 5 minutes before Dean stopped dead. "Dude, I'm bored." He whined, stomping his foot slightly for effect only to have the dirty sewer water splash up onto his jeans. It was the last place he wanted to be, he'd much rather be lay back at the reasonably clean motel room doing whatever he wanted.
"Shut up Dean, we've only been walking a minute." Sam scolded, continuing to walk forward, his lips pursed together in concentration as he listened for any sound that would indicate the location of the teenagers.
"Yeah right, it feels like I've been walking forever and this place reeks."
"Yeah, sewers tend to do that."
"You would know." Dean said before chuckling to himself.
Sam turned around with a look of confusion on his face "Dean, that didn't even make sense." He said, but his brother chose to ignore him and continued to chuckle to himself. They walked for what seemed like a life time and Dean was pretty much sure they were going round in circles. Every so often Sam would stop dead, pouting with furrowed brows as he listened for a noise other than the sound of running water. When Sam stopped for the millionth time Dean was about to complain when his brothers finger lifted into the air.
"You hear that?" he asked, looking around with a pout. Dean was about to make a joke about someone taking a large crap when he heard it too. Voices. Despite being muffled they echoed through the tunnels. Before Dean had a chance to speak, Sam had already pointed a finger and headed off in that direction. Dean followed behind, struggling slightly to keep up with his brothers large strides.
After what felt like a lifetime of squelching their way through questionable substances, they came across a rather large opening in the sewer, complete with numerous teenagers. The young eyes were fixed on them as they approached, Sam almost tripping over a create which caused Dean to snort with laughter.
"Shut up Dean," Sam hissed as he came to a halt, looking around at the teenagers. They were all filthy, the bottoms of their jeans complete soaked, hair greasy, faces oily with patches of dirt.
"Who are you?" A boy asked, stepping forward, shoulders rolled back. He narrowed his eyes as he looked from Sam to Dean, inspecting their appearances. His face twisted into a sneer as he observed their clean faces, edging closer towards them.
"You reek." Dean grimaced, scrunching up his nose and creating a large space between himself and the boy. He wasn't sure how the kid had managed to smell worse than the sewer itself.
"Yeah? And you're an asshole, but you don't hear me complaining." The boy sneered, glaring harshly in Dean's direction. "You didn't answer my question, who are you?"
Dean's fingers began twitching as he ground his teeth harshly together. Sam knew what was about to come so he quickly intervened. "I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean. We've been investigating your disappearance."
"You're the police?!" the boy shouted, stepping back so he was amongst the others.
"No, no! We're not the police, we're just…investigators in the least formal sense possible." Sam informed them, holding up his hand in what he hoped was a calming fashion. The teenagers remained looking sceptical, casting their eyes from Sam to Dean and back again before looking at each other. Sam quickly put his gun away, cursing himself mentally for not doing it sooner, Dean slowly followed suit, glancing around at the teenagers as if they were about to devour his brain at any moment.
After what seemed like hours of awkward silences, peculiar looks and glares shared between Dean and the leader of the rabble every time Dean scrunched his nose up, Sam managed to calm the atmosphere and get the teens talking. He soon discovered the teens had the exact same idea as the kids in Italy had. They were convinced the sun was about to get hot, so hot in fact it would explode and burn everything on the earth's surface. Sam questioned them about where the idea had come from and all eyes turned to the boy who appeared to be the leader of their gang.
He pondered for a moment, eyes narrowed and lips pursed as he paced back and forth, Sam and Dean's eyes following his movements. He paced for a good few minutes before clearing his throat. "I had a dream," Dean snorted loudly, receiving glares from the boy and Sam. "In my dream, the sun exploded, it burnt out everything on the earth, but I was safe. Before it happened, an Angel appeared to me in the dream, told me about what was gonna go down, told me how to survive it. It worked in my dream."
"So, all of this," Dean said, waving his hand around at their surroundings, "this is because you had a dream?" he questioned, his tone patronising as he tried his hardest not to burst into laughter. Sam nudged him harshly in the ribs. "Ow, that hurt!"
"So," Sam started, casting a warning look towards his brother. "You dreamt the world was going to end, so you acted on it?"
"Well, yeah…wouldn't you?" he asked, stopping his pacing to look direct at Sam.
"Well, dreams are just dreams, no matter how vivid." Sam replied, twiddling his fingers and furrowing his brows.
"That's why I was chosen, they knew I wouldn't ignore it, they knew I'd act." The boy said, wide-eyed and stepping towards the brothers who backed away slightly.
It took a while for the words to process before Sam asked, confusion flooding his face "Who knew?"
"The Angels." Was the whispered answer they received as the boy looked towards the ceiling of the dank dark sewer. Sam glanced upwards quickly, ensuring there wasn't someone or something about to drop down and pounce on them. Dean on the other hand snorted loudly before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. As his amusement echoed around the sewer the boy's expression turned to once of annoyance. "You wouldn't understand, you weren't chosen."
"Look," Sam said, quickly clamping a hand over his brothers mouth to muffle the sound of laughter. "The world isn't going to end, well not yet anyway." The boy looked sceptical. "Don't you think if the sun was about to get so hot that it would melt everything, there'd be some kind of warning?"
"The government doesn't know, it's the end of the world!" he shouted, causing the rest of the group to gasp and cling to each other.
Sam was annoyed now. He'd tried to be understanding, but the guy was so frustrating, it was infuriating, but he tried to keep his cool. "I'm not talking about the government, I'm talking about in general…increased temperature, crops dying, lightning storms? There's been nothing out of the ordinary."
"It's the end of the world, it needs to be a surprise, something people can't avoid." He said, flailing his arms in the air as the rest of the group nodded in agreement before looking to Sam.
"Well surely, even if everyone knew about it, no one could prevent the end of the world." The room was filled with 'ahhs' as the rest of the group looked around at each other before looking to their leader.
This caught him, he just stared at Sam, not saying a single word. The small section of the sewer was filled with the sound of whispering from the rest of the group as they glanced towards their leader who remained stationary and mute in the middle of the opening. After a lifetime of awkward silence, Sam finally spoke. He managed to convince the rest of the group that their leader was delusional, one by one they exited the sewer. The leader however, wasn't so easily swayed.
After a good hour of Sam trying to talk him down, Dean took matters into his own hand – he held a gun to the kids face and frog-marched him out of the sewer before dragging him home. Once they were sure the kid was home and his parents had control of him, Sam turned to Dean.
"Was that absolutely necessary?" Sam scalded, following his brother as he headed off back towards their motel room.
"Yes, your touchy-feely mambo-jambo was taking too long, I'm cold, wet and stink like a farm yard."
"Bu—" Sam started, pouty-mouth at the ready.
"—No buts," Dean cut him off. "Right now I want to take a shower, then sleep until I feel like a human being again." And he headed off quickly, leaving a rather dumbfounded Sam stood on the sidewalk. Sam sighed, shook his head, took one last look at the boys home to see his parents embracing him, before heading off after his brother.
This was floating around in my head. This is just the first part so let me know what you think. Thanks for reading