"Avast, you dog!" Nine-year-old Sam yelled before he descended upon Dean's sleeping figure. He pummeled every inch of his brother's body with his flimsy plastic sword. The black cloth eyepatch that he wore slipped to the side slightly, but he paid it no mind. Dean woke up with a yell, raising his arms to defend his face.
"Sam!" He yelled. "Sammy, get off!"
Sam's attack didn't let up, until Dean finally reached up, grabbed Sam by the arms and flipped him on his back. He landed on the motel bed and continued to struggle. Dean stared down at his brother in confusion as Sam yelled strange words at him.
"You scurvy dog! Get off of me, ye bilge rat!"
"Sam, what the hell?"
Sam stopped struggling momentarily to look up at Dean, a whine already forming on his lips. "I'm a pirate, Dean. Come on."
And then, while Dean was distracted by that revelation, Sam pounced again. Throwing himself forward, his whacked Dean with his sword, catching him off balance.
"Hey!" Dean yelled, as Sam placed his hands on Dean's chest, wiggled his legs underneath himself and pushed. He launched himself and Dean over the edge of the bed with a strangled yell.
"Sam! Sam! Stop!"
"The Queen's navy will never ride the Channel of Sam Winchester's swashbuckling crew! "
"What?!"
"Give us all your money! And women!"
"SAM!"
Sam's flailing arms and legs paused for a moment. "Come on, Dean. Play with me."
"What shows have you been watching?"
"Arrrrgh, landlubber! Lass!"
"Woah, wait. Did you just call me a girl!"
"Aye, you picaroon!"
"What does that even mean?"
He got no answer, just more blows from Sam's tiny fists.
"Alright, that's it." And Dean launched himself into the fight.