Disclaimer: Heh. I'd love to own them. The car. The boys. The weapons. Heck, if I owned them I would not be writing fanfiction, now would I? Well, maybe I would. For the crackpot ideas that would never make it into the show. . . Anway, not mine.
A/N: Okay. Gotta tell ya, this is sorta a crack!fic. I was at my friend's the other day and. . . Okay, first off. Neither of us get the CW. She doesn't even get TV, but she has netflix and stuff. It's spiffy. Anyway, so we're watching "Tall Tales" which I guess put us in -that- sort of mind set and we know some 'spoilers' for season three and whatnot. Anyway, so, this is our version of how Dean gets out of hell. So many thanks to her for helping me come up with the ideas (She knows who she is; -waves- You'd better be reading this). More chapters may be added with different theories/versions, but at the moment, there is just this one way. Does that make sense? I'm going to stop rambling now. . .
Oh. Reviews are welcome. And flames too. I don't care.
Sam had a plan. And he thought it was a good plan. He just had to get organized. Which was easy enough, to be sure. He already had most of the supplies he needed. With grim determination, Sam floored the Impala down the highway, towards the cemetery. It was a perfect plan. I couldn't fail. Well, wait. It could. But not really. Sam wouldn't let it. He needed Dean.
Once at the cemetery, he grabbed everything he thought he needed, and then some. Never could be too sure what to expect when he opened the doors to hell. Other than the fact that Dean was coming back. No matter what.
So, walking towards the doors, Sam got the Colt out. Time to open the doors to hell. Sam's eyes ran 'round the cemetery before he did so. He remembered last time he was here. The Yellow Eyed Demon and his death (which was long over due), Dean getting revenge, Sam getting ideas of his own death in his head (which turned out to be true - and was the reason why he was here again), and Dad. John Winchester climbed out of the gates of hell. So could Dean.
Sam opened the doors to hell and stepped back as demons shot out. He bit his lip slightly, slowly walking closer towards hell, "Dean?" he yelled down.
A moments pause, "Sammy? What the hell?"
"Dean!" Sam was very glad to hear his brother's voice. This was a good sign. He could get Dean out, "I'm here to get you out."
"Oh yeah? And how do you propose I get back?" Dean asked, looking around in hell. It was full of fire and brimstone. Not to mention demons. God, Meg was getting really annoying. Since Dean had gotten to hell Meg wouldn't leave him alone. Just kept bothering him. Though some other demon of apparently higher up on the Demon Social Standing told her that she couldn't hurt him. That pissed Meg off. And of course Dean just laughed his pretty little head off. So, Meg took to talking his ear off about nothing. Though sometimes she told her fantasies of what she'd do to Dean if she had the chance. And to Sam. And that was enough torture for Dean. He wanted out.
"I have a plan!" Sam yelled down, "Be right back!"
"You can't come back. You weren't really here. You were up there." Dean muttered to himself as he looked up and saw blue sky. Huh. It looked really blue. Like bluer than it should be. How long had he been in hell? Couldn't be long, so far the only torture was having to endue Meg's taunts. The demons of High Social Status were probably mulling about what real torture he should get. Dean watched as the demons that were flying out of hell blocked the view of his wonderfully blue sky.
"Back!" Sam yelled. He ducked as a demon flew by his head, "I got something for you."
Dean's brow furrowed, Sam got him a present? "What?" And very suddenly, hell had fire, brimstone, and a rope ladder. "What the hell is this?"
"It's a rope ladder. Ya'know. A ladder made of ropes. I figured it'd be an easy climb for you. I wasn't sure what hell was like so I thought this would be the ladder of choice. Kinda can go anywhere." Sam said, smiling. It was a great idea. Dean would be back in minutes.
"I figured you'd remember that hell had fire." Dean's voice drifted up towards the younger (and living) brother.
"Huh?"
"You're precious rope ladder is catching on fire, Samantha." Dean rolled his eyes, "Can't really climb it."
Sam stood there, mouth opening and closing. Honestly? He hadn't thought of that. "Well then, don't use the ladder."
"No shit, Sherlock. Any other bright ideas on how to get out of here?" Dean asked, glaring at the burning rope ladder in front of him.
Sam snapped his fingers, "I know! Do whatever Dad did."
"I don't know what Dad did, Sam! I wasn't down here to see it!" Dean threw his hands up in the air. Since when was his brother so dense?
"I know that, Dean! But Dad got out. And he didn't have a rope ladder-"
"Burning rope ladder." Dean reminded.
Sam cleared his throat, "-rope ladder to help him get out. He got out someway."
"Yeah." Dean scoffed, "I bet he floated up."
Sam's face twitched, "Can you not float up?"
"What? Sam, I'm still all solid. Or what was that word you used? Corporeal? Dad wasn't though. So, no. I can't float up like he did."
Sam chewed on his lip and sat down on the grass, thinking, "Got a trail heading up here?"
Dean watched as the demon's flew out of the gate, "Uh. No. People tend to not escape hell. There is no trail. And what the hell were you thinking? Like a little deer path or something?"
"No, I just-" Sam defended himself.
"Dean', you're never getting out of hell."
"Is that Meg?" Sam asked, wondering if he peaked over the side of the door if he'd see Dean.
"Yeah. She's been really annoying." Dean glared at Meg.
"Aw. You just hurt my feelings." Meg pouted.
"Hey, Dean! I brought the Salt Suspenders™ with me. Do you need them to keep Meg away." Sam asked, getting ready to go and fetch them.
"What the hell are Salt Suspenders™?" Meg asked, eyeing Dean.
"No. I don't need the Salt Suspenders™." Dean glared towards his younger brother.
"Oh. Okay then." Sam's voice sounded dejected.
"What the hell are Salt Suspenders™?" Meg asked, again.
Dean looked around. In front of him was a rocky wall. Maybe he could climb the wall? How the hell did their Dad get out? Did he float out? Maybe Dean could hitch a ride with one of the demon's escaping. He glanced at Meg standing beside him. Maybe get her to take him up there. Crap, that would mean Meg would be out of hell. Again.
"Don't make me ask again, Dean." Meg glared.
Dean sighed, remembering the Salt Suspenders™.
His dad had left Dean to take care of little Sammy when he went out on a hunt. Of course, before John left he told his eldest, "Lock the door. Do not leave the room. Shoot first. And above all, protect Sammy." To which Dean replied with a curt nod and a prompt, "Yes, Sir."
So, when John got back to the room where his boys had been residing, he was a bit surprised by what he found.
Little five year old Sammy in the middle of what looked like a lumpy inner tube. Which was held up around his middle by some suspenders. John could do nothing but blink at his youngest for a few seconds. Sammy seemed as if he this inner tube wasn't bothering him in least.
In fact, little Sammy's face lit up when he saw his father, "Daddy!" He ran up to his father, inner tube bouncing along with him.
"Hey, Sammy." John hugged his youngest the best he could. That inner tube was getting in the way, and John wasn't going to take it off until he found out what it was. "Dean?"
Nine year old Dean came into the room, smiling. Glad to see his father, "Yes, sir?"
"What is this?" John nodded his head towards the lumpy inner tube.
"Salt Suspenders™." Dean smiled.
John blinked. What the hell were Salt Suspenders™? ". . .Explain."
"Well, Sir," Dean started, "You told me to protect Sammy-"
"You did." Sammy added.
John nodded for Dean to continue.
"And salt rings are good ways to protect us. So, I figured I could get a ring around Sammy no matter where he went by filling the tube with salt then strapping it to him so it's always be there to protect him." Dean just beamed, knowing his idea of the Salt Suspenders™.
John just stared at his son. He had no idea what to say. Smart idea, but John wasn't sure if it would work right. But the kid was smart for coming up with this idea. Maybe later he'd come up with some ideas that would actually work. . . And so, John hesitantly patted his eldest on the head, ". . .Good job?" He said hesitantly, not sure what to do in this situation.
And really, the Salt Suspenders™ is why Sam had such an awful childhood.
Years in the later sense went by and Sam was whining about something or another (like he tends to do sometimes) and elder teen Dean (heh, that rhymed) turned on his brother and threatened: "Don't make take out the Salt Suspenders™!"
To which a younger yet old enough Sam (not Sammy anymore) replied, "Buuut Deeean! I've got a Frieeeend ovvvver!"
"I don't care." Dean glared at his annoyingly almost-taller-than-him brother.
This was something that had undoubtedly happened a lot.
Meg, being a demon, had read Dean's thoughts and thus the memory. She laughed like a little school girl, "Aw. How cute!"
Dean turned his fact towards the opening, "Get me out of here, Sam!"
Sam had been pacing, trying to think up a way to get his brother out of hell, "I got it!" he peeked over the edge to see Dean look up at him expectantly, "I can go get a pogo stick!"
The hell? Dean's brow furrowed, "Sam, I really do not think that will work to well."
Sam's face clouded over, "You sure?"
"Yeah." What was up with his brother?
"Oh! How do you feel about trampolines?" Sam questioned.
The fuck? "No. Why don't you suggest something more, I don't know, useful?"
"Like what?" Sam watched as Dean rolled his eyes.
"I don't know. Maybe a weapon?" The elder hunter answered sarcastically.
"Oh, right!" Sam disappeared from the opening for a bit and came back, "Want you're gun then?"
"Rock salt would be nice." Dean caught the gun as it fell into hell. And now, with gun in his hand, Dean didn't feel so naked. He sighed, he'd just climb the rocks up to the doorway. Forget the rope ladder, Salt Suspenders™, pogo stick, and trampoline. "I'll be up as soon as I can, Bitch."
"Jerk." Sam said automatically, glad to feel some normalcy. He watched in awe as his brother started climbing the wall, "Hey, doesn't that hurt?"
Dean grimaced in pain, "No." Hide the pain. Besides, the torture the demons where planning for him (and Meg's long monologues) were sure to be worse than climbing a rock wall of hell.
But Meg was having none of that. Dean couldn't escape! She glowered at him and grabbed a hold of his foot, "Where do you think you're going?"
Dean turned, "Away from you, Bitch."
"Oh, no you don't!" Meg pulled his leg, causing him to fall back down to the ground.
Sam meanwhile peaked over the edge again, after all, this climb was taking a long time, "Dean?"
"What?" Dean growled, glaring at Meg.
"Haven't you started already?" Sam remembered seeing Dean start the climb up.
"Do you expect this little hike to be easy?" Honestly? What was wrong with Sam?
"Not really, no." Sam nodded to himself and then added, "Might want to hurry though, demons are escaping as we speak."
Dean grabbed his gun and shot a round off at Meg, and while she was down, he started his climb again. Though it really didn't take long for her to catch up. But before she could actually pull him down again, he shot another round off, "Stay the hell off me." He growled, getting closer to the edge.
Meg was furious. Dean was escaping! She hadn't been able to actually torture him during his short vacation in hell! The bastard! She had to stop him! But he kept shooting her. She glanced around, trying to think up a plan.
But while she was busy thinking, Dean was busy climbing. And before she could come up with a fantastically evil plan, he was topside.
The two brothers quickly closed the door and Dean found himself on the ground, panting from exhaustion.
Sam found himself sitting next to his brother, searching the body for injuries. The hands were burnt. But that would heal. The taller and younger brother glanced at the shorter and older brother's chest. It was moving. Dean was breathing. Sam quickly put his hand on his brother's wrist.
Dean glanced questioningly at Sam.
"Dean!" Sam cried happily, "You're alive!"
Dean raised an eyebrow, "Uh-huh."
"You've got heart beat and everything!" Sam couldn't keep his grin off his face. His brother was alive and out of hell. Hell. Full of fire, brimstone, one burning rope ladder.
A/N: Just so you know, Sam is not stupid in this story. He is panicked and distraught.