Author's Note: Hi! This is my first fic ever, so I apologize deeply in advance. That being said, I'm using this as a writing exercise so while I would be really grateful for feedback, I'll just cry myself to sleep at night if you're unnecessarily mean. So please don't do that.

I sadly do not own Sam, Dean, Cas, or any of the cast or previous plots from Supernatural, but I DO own my character, who will appear soon. I hope you like her.

Finally, I will completely admit that I despise how this turned out; I had a much better first draft that got deleted from my iPad, but... que sera sera. I'm hoping to improve as we continue. Here's hoping!

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 1

The most important phone call in Dean Winchester's life came in on a random Wednesday night in the month of March. Unfortunately, Dean and his brother Sam were too busy fighting a Slavic water demon in an underground sewer tunnel in Evansville, Indiana to answer it, so he missed it. It then became the most important voicemail in Dean Winchester's life.

As the message sat unnoticed in the voice mailbox of his phone, Dean grimaced at the slimy, algae-covered, regrettably naked, old man in front of him. Green mucous dripped from its every orifice, dribbling down into its straggly beard.

"Ugh. Dude, you're disgusting," Dean said, wrinkling his nose. He glanced at his brother.

"I don't have to touch it, do I?" he asked. He was beginning to get a bit cranky with the whole situation. Water had seeped into his boots from the sewer floor and soaked his socks. He also had a feeling that it was going to take more than one shower to wash the sewer smell off of his body. And he was hungry.

Sam, keeping his eyes trained on the demon, shook his head.

"No," he replied. "Actually, if he touches us, he-"

Suddenly, the demon shot forward with alarming speed and grabbed Dean by the wrist. He hissed and slime bubbled between his teeth.

"... can drown us in his slime," Sam finished with a sigh. The demon growled and pulled Dean close to him, reaching up to grab him by the back of his neck. Dean pulled away against its grip, gagging as he put his hand on its slime-covered chest to hold it at bay. But the demon had surprising strength for looking like a senior citizen, and it began to pull Dean's head down towards him.

"Sammy," Dean said, alarmed.

Sam fumbled in his jacket, pulling out a small blue squeeze bottle. He popped the top.

The demon hissed and its head whipped towards Sam, but he didn't loosen its grip on Dean. It reared its head back and spat a huge glob of slime that smacked into the side of the squeeze bottle. It flew out of Sam's hand and down the concrete tunnel, splashing in the sewer water collecting on the floor. Sam ran after it, cursing with each step.

The demon turned back to Dean and pulled his head down, even with its own. Their faces were mere inches apart and Dean swallowed, his eyes wide with panic.

"SAM!" he yelled. The demon let go of his arm, but before Dean could pull away, it grabbed his face and squeezed, forcing his jaw open.

"Okay, let's try this again," Sam muttered, the squeeze bottle back in his hands. He went to open it again but found the cap stuck tight underneath a quickly hardening layer of slime.

Dean struggled against the vice-like grasp on his jaw, his heart pounding. Being a hunter, he was no stranger to the more nauseating aspects of his job. He'd seen enough blood and gore and muck that, for the most part, he felt immune to the majority of it. But being kissed by a gooey, naked grandpa was crossing the line. He threw a desperate prayer up to the ceiling.

Save me, he thought desperately. But it was too late. Dean's stomach lurched as he felt cold, sticky lips press against his.

Sam heard an inhuman noise come from his brother and looked up, fear racing through his veins. His expression turned disbelieving when he saw Dean and the green old man attached at the mouth.

"What the-"

The demon still had its mouth fused to his, and if things couldn't get any worse, Dean suddenly felt slime gushing forcefully into his mouth. He roared, wrestling furiously against the grip of the old man. He felt the slime start to push into his throat and he gagged and coughed, still fighting against the unyielding grip on his face and throat.

Sam finally came to his senses and reached back into his jacket, pulling out a switchblade. He flipped it open and stabbed it into the squeeze bottle. Then he advanced on the demon, holding the bottle tightly in his hand. He stood over the dripping, oozing demon and held the bottle over its head. Then he squeezed, watching water pour out of slit plastic.

Suddenly, the spirit exploded, completely soaking Sam and Dean with slime in the process. Dean collapsed to the ground and immediately rolled onto his stomach, retching and spitting until his mouth and throat were clear again. He lay there for a moment, breathing heavily and waiting for his nausea to pass. He groaned, feeling a thick layer of mucous weighing down his clothing and covering his face and hair.

"Huh. So Garth was right. Sea water. You okay?" Sam asked, above him. Dean looked over his shoulder and glared at him. Sam held out his hand. Reluctantly, Dean took it and let him pull him up to his feet.

"Freakin' took long enough," Dean grumbled, his voice extra gruff. He coughed again, and spit out more slime.

"Sorry. He slimed the bottle," Sam replied, suppressing a laugh.

Dean glared at him again. "Oh. He slimed the bottle. I'm sorry. I JUST GOT MOLESTED BY SLIMER, YOU DICK."

Sam couldn't control it any longer. He dissolved into laughter. He laughed until his sides hurt and he clutched at his ribs, wiping his eyes with his free hand. Dean watched him silently, his eyes narrowing until they were mere slits.

When Sam finally calmed down, he clapped a wet hand on his brother's slimy shoulder. The two began trudging towards the exit, both of them wiping slime off their faces. Dean ran a hand through his hair, grimacing.

"I'm sorry, man. But at least we ganked it in the end," Sam told him

Dean huffed.

"Yeah, AFTER he... ugh." He stopped and bent over, feeling nausea wash over him again. After a moment, he stood back up and pointed at Sam.

"Okay. You listen to me. We are gonna get some food, so I can get this goddamned disgusting taste out of my mouth. Then we're gonna find a liquor store and I am gonna buy the most expensive scotch they got and drink it until I can't remember that this ever happened. Understand?"

Sam nodded mutely, one of the corners of his mouth quirking upwards. Dean raised a warning eyebrow at his brother. Then, a chiming noise came from inside his jacket. Without breaking his stare, Dean reached inside his jacket and pulled out his phone, pressing a button and holding it up to his ear.

Sam chuckled and shook his head at his brother, then turned away to continue to make his way outside. He felt a tug on his jacket and he turned around, his eyebrows furrowed at Dean.

Dean's eyes were wide, his mouth ajar. The phone was still against his ear.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Sam asked, his stomach swooping. Dean slowly lowered the phone and looked up at him.

"It's Kevin. He did it," Dean answered, staring straight ahead. "He figured out the tablet."

"What? That's great! So we gotta go-" Sam trailed off at the look on his brother's face. Dean was frozen, his emotions unreadable.

"Dean?" Sam asked, his voice echoing through the tunnel. Dean slowly looked up at him, eyes hard.

"He says it's about me."