Title: Zombiefied
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairing: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester,
Rating: PG-13… for Dean's pottymouth.
Warnings: Bit of language, and icky zombie-death.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did… hugging would happen in every episode, and they would munch on pineapple together…
Summary: Dean. Sam. A bet. What more do you need?
A/N: After a funky dream, I came up with this.
Dean's fingers itched on the trigger of his Berretta. He needed to shoot something. They had been staking out this stupid apartment for over six hours, waiting for a nonexistent zombie and Dean really needed to pee. He needed to kill, and to pee. That must have been an odd feeling…
Sam on the other hand, was perfectly content to watch idly for a sign of the zombie. He was sure it was nearby. All the dead plants around the apartment indicated this, but one couldn't be too sure; it could just be a harmless old lady who forgot to water the plants for a year… or something.
"Shit Sam. I gotta pee really bad." Dean stated, squirming slightly.
"Tough luck. You should have gone before we started the stake out." Sam chuckled quietly at his brother.
"And you need to shut your pie hole. I've been cooperative for the past six hours while we sit here doing nothing, at all, period." Dean squirmed a little bit more and gave a shiver. "Dammit, is it just me or is it freezing in here?"
"Yeah it's kinda cold. But with your massive body heat burning through the back of my jacket I don't really feel it much."
"You're a bitch."
"I love you too."
Sam was idly sitting on the windowsill, observing the intersection ten floors below. Only twenty cars had gone through in the six hours they'd been up there and that, to Sam, was rather odd. But Dean was too busy complaining to even notice. He sat directly behind Sam, facing the door with his gun sitting on his knees. Neither one of them had moved since they started their little stake out and Sam had to give Dean a little credit, if he had to stare at the same plastery white door for six hours, he would sure be a little grumpy too.
"I think my foot fell asleep."
"Shh."
"Well there's no need to shush me, I was just making a statement!"
"Shh! Wait, listen!"
Both boys paused and waited for a few seconds, until Sam heard it again. There was a dull thud coming from somewhere outside the room. From Dean's expression he had heard it too, and he picked his gun up off his knees and cocked it.
"You keep watching the window, it could be a trap." Dean whispered to his brother
"Ha. I told you there was something here." Sam whispered back
"Yeah, yeah you can gloat later. I just want to find out what this dude is first. Then we'll see who's gloating."
Thud
"Dude… is it getting louder?"
Three more seconds passed by before another thud.
"Yeah, I think it might be. Are you still watching the window?"
Thud
"Yes, there's nothing."
Thud
"… holy crap."
"… what?"
"Its coming from the…"
Thud
"…the what?"
"… vent. Outside."
Thud
"…Dude, a vent?"
"Shh. Give me the knife."
Thud
"Ow. That one hurt my skull…"
"DUCK!"
A massive flying object shot through the window splaying glass everywhere, Tackling Sam before he had time to move out of the way. It lifted Sam up off the ground by his neck and rammed his head into the wall. Dean rolled along the floor, and aimed his gun for the monster. He shot it in the back of the head multiple times, before the thing released its grip on his brother. It screamed and made a beeline for Dean, who was frantically searching for an exit, looking panicked. Sam punched it upside the head, and drove a silver knife into its throat, just as Dean shot it once more in the face. It staggered backwards and fell into a closet, blood flying everywhere and creating funky patterns on the walls.
Dean grabbed the thing by the neck and shoved it onto the carpet. He drove a knife straight through its chest and into the floor.
After a few seconds of silence, Dean wiped some blood off his face and grimaced.
"Dude, you okay?" he said looking around for his little brother
"Yeah sure. You look pretty fine… apart from the fact that you're covered in blood…"
"Shut your face, you are too!"
"It's shut... and blood looks better on me by the way."
"Okay, that was just creepy. And where the hell did this thing come from?"
"Dude. You owe me twenty bucks!"
"Do not!"
"Do too! It was a zombie!"
"I didn't actually say I'd give it to you if it was a zombie."
"Uh, yeah you did. You said 'man if this thing's a zombie, you can have twenty bucks'."
"Bitch."
"Jerk."
Fin