This is actually a part of erm a project me and Darksupernatural did in 2008/09, called Moments in Time… BUT I wanted the stories I wrote posted on my site too… just because. There are 9 stories I did, so I'll post 9 stories in the span of a few weeks, let's say... I'll maybe change some things, add things, add more chapters, remove things, you know! Expand a story or so… so that it won't be THE SAME story, but in a way it will be the same. So yeah some of you probably read this there, so if it looks familiar you can totally stop reading if you're not interested… umm yeah… LOL, but I just want the stories posted over here too, you understand.

I own nothing. All mistakes are mine.

Enjoy…

"Push!"

"You pull, I'll push!"

"I AM pulling; you're the one who's not pushing, dumbass!"

"Screw you!"

"Whatever, just push!"

"I would push if I could!" the strain in his voice was a sign that he was giving up.

"Dean, I swear if you don't push up, I'm gonna kill you, I swear to God!" Dean push, please…

"Nah, you wouldn't. Besides, God would just dump me back on Earth!" 'm trying.

"Do I look like I care!" try harder, please.

How the Hell did they end up like that?

SNSN

A drop of cold water on his forehead woke him up. The tickle it caused, running down the tip of his nose, down his lips was a very clear, very definite sign of trouble if he ever knew one.

"Wha…?" He jerked awake, arms flaying around to hit a wall, damp and hard.

"What the…?"

He tried to get up, but the wet dirt he was currently sitting…laying on was too slimy to find purchase on. So he glided down to the floor again and made his peace with just sitting there and opening his eyes.

"Oh, oh, okay…it's dark." With opened eyes all he saw was darkness…

A soft breeze caressed his cheeks and dried the water drops that were steadily dripping on the top of his head wetting his hair.

"Sam!"

Is it wise to yell?

"Sammy!"

Hell, yeah.

The soft wind brought with it a smell that was all too familiar to him… decaying and rotting…

"Awesome." He whispered to himself and the words echoed in the space.

"Sam, where are you?"

He tried once more to scramble to his feet, but the ground was just too muddy to actually get his feet firmly on the ground. He tried, oh he tried, but then his boot got stuck in the mud and yeah… no way is he trying that again. He just needed to face the fact that his behind was supposed to be firmly planted in the muddy ground. He could feel the wetness seeping through his jeans and he shivered. It was cold. So cold.

"Hate mud, hate this case, hate this cave wannabe, hate this frigging rain, hate this crap, hate Sam…"

"Sam! Get your ass here!" He yelled once again into the darkness and all he got back was the echo of his voice shouting Sam's name.

"Lovely."

He pulled up his knees and settled his forearms on them, making a fist with his hands.

"Lovely, lovely, just freakin' lovely…Sam!"

He needed to talk, he needed to keep calling Sam's name, and he needed to know that he was still alive in the darkness that was all around him.

He felt like he was blind. In the darkness… for all he knew he could be blind and he just didn't have any way to test that.

Fuck…

"Lighter." Stupid.

He dug around in his pockets until he grabbed the small object. Trying to light it up, he failed on at least five tries, and on the sixth one he nailed it: "Oh Jesus, crap…!" he pushed his body to the wall, almost breaking his back on the uneven wall; tree roots digging themselves into his skin, he came this close to piercing his spine on one of 'em.

There was a body laying on the opposite wall, half decayed and half fresh, by the look of it. Both legs broken, arms laying dead by its sides. Black, short wet hair, empty brown eyes, wet pale face, big nose, small chin, dark eyelashes that moved when water dripped on them, moved almost alive in a dead kind of way. Torn up clothes and hollow cheeks. Maggots in its mouth, dried blood on its cheeks…

"You scared the crap out of me, Jesus Christ, man."

He drank air, gulped it down like a starved man. He wiped a hand down his face, getting mud all over his cheeks, but he didn't care. His heart was racing, his lungs working overtime and the water was still drowning him with its drops that were soaking the place even more.

The lighter turned off when one drop hit it straight on and Dean didn't even flinch. He knew where he was and: "Sam, help!"

And once again all he got in return was the echo of his voice, thundering in the small space he was stuck in. His eyes adjusted to the darkness some, just enough to imagine the body of the man, smirking at him.

"What are you laughing at? Don't suppose you have anything to eat, huh?" When there was no answer: "Yeah, suppose not."

"Sam!"

He placed his hands on the floor, trying to raise himself from the cold floor once again, boots stuck in mud be damned and then there was the sharp sting of: "Son of a bitch." Sprained wrist.

Damn it.

He pulled his right hand to his chest with lightning speed, trying to ease the pain, but it wasn't working. Cradling his hand in his lap: "Sooo," he clicked with his tongue, the sound loud in the small space, "… fun, right?" He panted out to the corpse, feeling silly in his attempt to lighten up the situation… being stuck with a corpse and a sprained wrist in a cave thingy with no knowledge of where Sam was… was yeah… not fun.

"Sammy!"

He flinched when the vibrations of his voice found his wrist, tripling the pain, making it sting.

He breathed, small puffs of air that stirred the calm surrounding… the darkness, the cold and the rain drops.

He leaned his head on the wall, looked up and was surprised when he could see the stars. Stars. Fuckin' stars laughing at him from the opening to the cave.

One; it flickered… "So, you've been here long?"

Two; it was partly covered by a tree root… "Nice hole you've got here."

Three; so bright… "So, ahem, Sam 's my brother, you know?"

Four; a drop of water fell into his eye… "He's cool, but don't tell him I said so."

Five… "'s freaking cold in here."

Six…"Sam!"

Seven; the North star… "He's gonna save me, so… don't think I'm gonna be here forever."

Eight… "The stars are bright tonight."

Nine, "Sammy!"

Ten… "Sprained wrist, man, it hurt's like a bitch… ah, er, you should know, right?"

Eleven…

"Dean!"

"You heard that? You hear that?" He asked the body of the man sprawled on the opposite wall.

"Dean!"

"Sam?"

"Sammy!"

He tried to get up again, forgetting the sprain wrist, forgetting that the floor was slippery, forgetting the numbness in his legs, arms… chest. And that was his fatal mistake. Falling back down on the floor, he landed on the sprained wrist, hitting it hard enough to hear bones cracking.

"Jesus!"

"Dean! Hey, you okay?"

Sam's head peeked into the hole, his body covering the night sky, his eyes unnaturally bright, the beam of his flashlight shining directly into Dean's chest.

"Dean, you okay?" breathlessly.

"Ahh, yeah, yeah, 'm fine, just get me out of here."

"Here…" A thick rope fell into the cave, hitting Dean's knees.

"Grab hold of it and push yourself up."

"Easy for you to say…'m injured here."

"What? What's wrong?"

"I, ah, I think I sprained my wrist."

"Okay, okay, ah… just tie the rope around your waist and I'll help you… crawl up."

"Sure, piece of cake."

Tying the rope behind his waist: "See, told you Sam'll come for me… and you didn't believe me… asshole."

"Ready?"

"Beam me up, Scotty."

"Dude, Star Trek?"

"Just pull, man!"

His wrist was throbbing to match his heart beat and he barely managed to stand up. Sam was holding all of his weight and he couldn't care less… the floor was slippery, the corpse was looking at him funny in the dark, laughing at him… and he started to push himself up the uneven wall. Rocks dug themselves in his palms, the soft dirt chipped when he tried to touch it and his wrist was becoming numb with pain.

"Push!" the voice came from over his head, his brothers voice, urgently calling him to not give up.

"You pull, I'll push!"

"I AM pulling; you're the one who's not pushing dumbass!"

"Screw you!"

"Whatever, just push!"

"I would push if I could!" the strain in his voice was a sign that he was giving up.

"Dean, I swear if you don't push up, I'm gonna kill you!" Dean push, please…

"Nah, you wouldn't! Besides, God would just dump me back on Earth!" 'm trying.

"Do I look like I care!" try harder, please.

The rain on a clear night stopped at some point, but the slippery cave walls remained and Dean slipped on so many occasions, sliding down, losing footing, loosing strength… he lost count of it all.

"Dean!"

"What? 'm pushing up."

"Dean, look I know you're hurt, but I can't help you if you don't come up."

"Awww, Sammy you care."

To be honest… Dean could see Sam roll his eyes even in all the darkness.

"Dean, just push yourself up a little, just a little more and I'll be able to grab you, okay?"

"How much is a little?"

"Just… a little, okay?"

It was all slippery, the walls caving in, the pain in his wrist so strong, he nearly fell back down, when the rope accidentally rubbed his skin.

"A little more. Just try."

Sam could see Dean crawling up the cave, it wasn't deep, but with the wet ground and Dean's wrist, the trip up took ages.

"It's freaking slippery, man."

"Would you just stop bitching and climb!"

Dean rolled his eyes to that one.

When Dean felt Sam's strong hands on his shoulders he knew he was saved.

Safe. Out. On the ground. Away from the chatty bones down there.

Finally lying on the ground, hearing Dean catch his breath, feeling the cold seep into his back, seeing Dean's hand lying comfortably on his rising chest, their shoulders touching, Sam had to say it: "You look like shit, man."

"I feel like shit too. I've been talking to a freakin' corpse for hours, dude."

Sam laughed; white teeth and dimples laugh.

"'s not funny."

"Oh yeah it is."

"Shut up."

"No…" The laughter stretched for miles.

"Injured man here."

"Okay, okay, come on, let's go."

Stumbling to the car, Dean had to ask: "How long was I in it? Man it felt like ages."

"Ah, ahem, fifteen minutes."

Dean would've fallen if Sam's hands weren't supporting him: "Well I did find our case, didn't I?"

"Or did he find you?"

"Shut up."

'm gonna leave this story open, not say it's complete, because I'm doing a second chapter, a SHORT ONE, so… yeah… hope that's okay. But I don't know when it'll be ready to post. I'm almost done with it though. This is a little preview of the 2nd chapter.

"So, we go back, torch his bones and he'll stop throwing people down the slope?"

"Basically, yeah."

"Oh, goody."

Dean really didn't wanna go back there. That whole place… gave him the shivers. And he ain't gonna go down that hole again that's for sure. His wrist was sprained, itches like sonofabitch, wrapped up in some weird, sweat smelling brace that Sam magically pulled out of the First Aid kit like a freakin' rabbit. And his back, his back ain't doing so good neither. He must've bruised it somehow while he was in there; makes him walk like he's ninty-nine and without his cane.

Sam will just have to go down there. He's handy with the lighter and salt. He'll do just fine.