Title: Marshmallow World
Author: Très Méchante
Characters/Pairing: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester
Summary: According to Dean, there's no better way to relax after a tough hunt than to indulge in a little Sam baiting. Vignette.
Rating: Teen
Spoilers:None, but there is a gratuitous movie reference
Word Count: approx. 560 words
Warning: Language
Disclaimer: Well, the story is mine, but the characters, most assuredly, are not.
Archive: Only with permission.
Inspired by title: "Marshmallow World" by Dean Martin
Sam and Dean crawled out of the burned out remnants of the old farmhouse – literally crawled. The battle had been ugly and messy, but they had survived. While Sam finished wriggling out of the crawlspace, Dean stood and stretched.
"Whoa," murmured Dean, transfixed by the scene before him.
Sam's head suddenly popped through the hole in the foundation.
Dean grinned, thinking that his brother looked like some kind of demented gopher. Too bad his camera phone had been slimed or he could add this to the infamous spoon picture for future entertainment.
"Get up here, Sammy. You have got to see this."
Sam hauled himself up turned to chastise his brother. "How many times do I have to tell you it's – whoa."
Sam moved quietly in deference to the stillness. "Uh, Dean, exactly how long were we down there?" he whispered.
Dean shrugged. "A couple of hours, maybe."
The brothers looked out at the changed landscape. When they'd arrived, the ground had been nothing but barren dirt and the hulks of burned out vehicles. Now, everything was pristine. The sky was clear, but snow covered and clung to every possible surface. Even the Impala seemed to glow in virginal white.
Sam wandered down the steps away from what had been a porch. "This really is…it's…wow." He suddenly shook out his shaggy hair, sending bits of gore flying, staining the snow at his feet. Unfortunately, some also landed on Dean's boots.
Dean glared at his baby brother for a moment, then turned away to hide his smirk. "You know, Sammy – uh, Sam – this is really amazing. It's kind of symbolic, like a metaphor or something."
In his peripheral vision, he could see Sam turn towards him, mouth open and eyes wide. "See, we got here, and everything was bare and ugly – kinda like that thing back there. And we came in a-and we took away the ugly – hell, we beat that sonovabitch…uh, that is, we took away the ugliness. It's kinda poetic when you think about it."
Dean could almost feel Sam mentally rehearsing the exorcism. Any minute now and Sam would start to move – three, two, one – and right on schedule he started searching his pockets, probably for holy water. Jeez, his brother was just too easy sometimes. Except with chicks, but that was probably okay; less competition that way.
"Of course, if you'd prefer pop culture to poetry and philosophy, this scene looks like a movie classic," mused Dean as he casually moved out of Sam's freakishly long reach.
Sam continued murmuring under his breath as he warily shadowed his brother's movements, much to Dean's amusement.
"C'mon, Sammy, doesn't this all look kinda familiar to you? I mean, sure, it's not midtown Manhattan, but seriously, look around you," urged Dean, as he turned in a circle, arms spread as he indicated the white-covered world around them. "This is exactly what I'd expect if that giant Stay-Puft dude walked by and exploded – no, wait, we don't have any of those super-cool blaster things – hurled! Yeah, if the Stay-Puft dude hurled all over the place."
Dean turned back to check out Sam's reaction. A snowball to the face was his answer. With a war whoop, Dean fell into a crouch and began gathering snow for a return volley.
The war was on – and this was one battle both brothers could enjoy.
-end-