Hold On
Summary: Sam and Dean go hunting for dragons when things go tumbling down. Can Dean hold on long enough for Cas to rescue them?
An: Takes place during S10. Slightly AU: Dean has been cured from the mark of Cain and Cas is human.
-SPN-
Sam dropped the sword instantly.
What sword? Well, you couldn't really call it a sword anymore, it had been broken and only a small piece of the blade and its hilt still remained.
Still, it was once the magnificent sword of Bruncvik, forged from the blood of dragons. Only one of 6 swords in existence capable of killing dragons. One of the rarest weapons the Winchester had in possession.
But Sam didn't hesitate to drop it like a hot poker when the floor of the sewer they were walking through, suddenly seemed to shift and completely disappear beneath him. He dropped it in favor of grabbing anything to prevent his fall.
All he could find was Dean.
Dean's breath stuck in his throat as the floor disappeared from beneath them. His first instinct was to grab Sam, but then his brother had already clutched onto him having nothing else to grab since he was more towards the center of the now gaping hole. They were already falling but Dean twisted like a pretzel and tried to grab anything else within reach. A ledge of some sort graced his hand and he grabbed on for dear life. Groaning as he took the full weight of both himself and Sam as they stopped their decline to gravity.
The sword, or what was left of it (it really hadn't survived Dean's explosive liberation from its rocky home very well) clanked down the rest of the way through the huge sewer pit. It finally hit rock bottom after a good few seconds. No way were they getting that thing back any time soon and also: That was definitely not a survivable fall height.
"Was that a fucking magic trapdoor?!" Dean cussed angry. "Since when do dragons have friggin' illusion skills?"
Sam grunted as he tried to get a better grip on his big brother. The shirt was a no go, but the pants seemed to hold together pretty good so Sam clung to his brother's hip like a tentacle monkey.
Dean stilled to help his brother get a better grip on him. "You okay there Sammy?"
Sam nodded still a bit shaken from the fall.
"Anything other than me you can grab on to?"
Sam wrapped his legs around Dean's feat to give him better grip to look around. The shaft was round, old masonry work, probably a very old sewer pipe. There were a few metal pipes sticking out, but none within their reach, well, other than the one Dean had managed to hang on to.
"No," He answered. "think you can hold on?"
Sam realized this was a stupid question. Of course Dean would hold on. Dean would die before he let his little brother fall to his death. Didn't mean it wasn't hurting like hell, some cultures used this as a method of torture, strappado they called it, letting a person hang from their arms with a weight attached to them.
He was literally torturing his big brother right now, but there was nowhere else to go.
"Well I'm not gonna hold on forever! …Frickin' Houdini dragons…" Dean grunted.
"You know, maybe if I climb up I can grab hold of that same pipe you're holding… That way you won't have to carry my weight and…"
"Forget it Sammy. Not much room there and I rather have you hanging quietly then squirming around climbing all over me. Not while I still have a good grip."
Sam hummed in agreement. Better not to risk it.
"Call Cas!" Dean ordered.
"I don't think we'll have reception down here, Dean."
"For fucks sake try! You're not exactly a small lightweight champion."
"Right..."
Since Sam was already clutching Dean's middle Sam grabbed the phone closest to his death grip, Dean's phone. He dialed and miraculously the phone rang. Hooray for small miracles in their mostly messed up lives. Castiel picked up immediately after the first ring.
"Hello Dean."
Of course, ever the same greeting from the gravely sounding angel.
"It's Sam. We need help fast!"
"What do you need me to do?"
Dean who apparently didn't like the slow pace of the phone call ethics shouted: "Find a rope and get you're angelic butt down here!"
"you got that?" Sam asked, he added a brief description of the way they went and hung up. Luckily the route they had taken hadn't been that complicated and his photographic mind knew exactly how they had gone. If Cas hurried they would be fine. Hopefully…
Sam pushed the phone back in its pocket and waited. There really wasn't much else he could do, other than stay really still to prevent Dean from losing his grip.
They stayed silent for a few minutes… waiting for Cas to rescue them. They could hear dripping in the distance and the faint traffic sounds from up above. But it still felt eerily quiet, besides a few groans from Dean as he was literally holding on for dear life.
"So…" Sam said after a while. Anxious to break the silence. "…how's it hanging?"
Dean snorted. "Don't make me laugh, or I swear I'll drop you like a bad habit."
Sam smiled. If his brother could still threaten him he was still okay.
That thought came a second too soon as a low rumbling started to sound in the distance and became louder by the second.
"What the hell is that?!"
"For crying out loud! What now?"
A huge wave of muck suddenly expelled from one of the sewer tubes above them. Drenching them both in muck.
"Really?!" Dean let out a string of muttered curses as the expelling slowly came to a stop. They were swinging a bit from the force of the outburst and Sam tried to hold as still as possible as he strained to maintain his grip on his brother.
Dean grouchily spat out some of the muck that got in his face, but could do no more than that in fear he would lose his grip.
Sam freed one hand to carefully wipe his face clean from most of the mess and shuddered. He realized his brother was unable to do anything about the sewage that drenched them both. "Sorry dude…"
"Not your fault, Sammy…" Dean knew it was a general "Sorry-our-lives-sucks" kind of sorry, but he wanted his little brother to know that that too wasn't his fault. "Just hang on… …Cas will be here any minute now."
Unfortunately, the muck had made their clothes slippery. Dean's hands had remained blissfully clean so his grip was as strong as ever. But Sam was starting to lose his… He readjusted, trying to grab more belt and less mucky shirt.
"Sam… You got this?"
"Yeah. I've got this." Sam grunted and luckily regained his grip on his brother's pants once again. He was so done with this hunt, the smell was horrible and he was now stone cold from being dreched. He just wanted to get back to their crappy hotel, take a hot shower and forget dragons even existed.
Dean read his mind. "I say we let some other poor schmuck hunters clean up this dragon infested dump."
"Amen to that." Not that they actually would but it was nice to pretend.
"Dean? Sam?"
Castiel's face suddenly appeared above their heads. How the ex-angel had approached them so quietly they'd never know, he had probably been quietly listening to them talking to determine where they were. But it was still creepy how he had snuck up to the skilled hunters.
"Cas! You're a sight for sore eyes!" Dean exclaimed.
The angel disappeared again, only to reappear a few seconds later followed by a rope falling down.
"Here! I've got the rope attached to the wall it should be secure."
Sam grabbed it and began putting it around Dean's middle carefully.
"What are you doing Sam? Just get going, get off of me!"
"Dean! You've been hanging from your arms for.. " Sam glanced at his watch. "Shit. 7 minutes. I can guarantee you the minute you'll let go you'll lose all feeling in your arms!"
And Sam was so not watching his brother plummet to his death after saving his ass for the umptiest time. Sam looped the rope awkwardly around dean's upper legs for more support. Like a climbers harness.
Dean glared at him.
"Don't worry." Sam said. "I promise you we'll never have to talk about this."
"You're damn right this never happened!"
"I've got him secured, Cas!" Sam yelled. "I'll climb up and then we can both pull him up."
Cas nodded and Sam carefully shifted his weight from his brother to the rope. He had whipped off a bit more of the muck from his hands and they seemed to have enough grip to be able to climb. He thanked God for the rigorous training his dad had always put them through as kids. For his arm muscles were now perfectly able to pull him up quickly into safety. Well, however safe a dragon-infested sewer could be.
"Okay I'm clear, you can let go now Dean."
A muttered 'Fuck' soon followed
"Dean?!" Sam called anxiously as he peered over the edge. His brother was slowly swinging in the air from the makeshift rope gear.
"Yeah yeah... I'm fine... Just hurts like a bitch."
"Can you move your fingers? You didn't dislocate your shoulder did you?"
"I'd rather not... and no."
"Well, try, it will help get the blood circulated again."
A winch followed but Sam could make out his brother flexing his fingers.
"Just hang tight. We'll pull you up."
Dean nodded and relaxed. He peered down at the long drop that could have easily been the death of him and his little brother.
"Sam? ..."
Sam halted his efforts to pull his brother up. He didn't like that tone for one bit. It wasn't a "The-rope-is-about-to-give" kind of tone but more of a "I-will-kick-your-ass-so-hard-you-won't-know-what-hit-you".
"What Dean?" He asked hesitantly.
"Is that our ultra rare, unreplaceable dragon slaying sword lying at the bottom?"
-the end-
AN: Yes, so looks like the brothers will have to dwell around the Houdini sewers a bit longer if they ever want to get that sword back. This story is finished though. I hope you guys liked it. If you did, please leave a comment or a fav, it feeds my muses. :3