There was a strange noise from under the sink that night after dinner. Dean was putting the finishing touches on a tray of peanut butter cookies about ready to go into the oven, when -

Gurgle!

Dean frowned, and looked over towards the steel sink. Cas, placing the last of the ingredients back into the cupboards above the stove, turned as well and squinted towards the offending noise.

"What was that?" Cas said, and Dean put down the glass he was using to smush the tops of the cookie dough, and walked closer.

Dean leaned over the basin, and tapped at the faucette. The gurgle sounded again, fainter. It wasn't normal 'old pipes' noise; there was something mucky about it. "Dunno," Dean had time to say, before there was a resurgence of the noise and a surge of
...something else up from the drain. A splatter of brown sludge bubbled up from the drain, and hitting Dean's cheek in little, smelly, droplets.

"Urgh!" Dean cried, jerked backwards, and wiping his face with the shoulder of his shirt. "Oh, that's rank!"

The goop wasn't black grease like the Leviathan stuff was, but it was gross looking, and felt slimy and oily on his face. However, the smell was by far the worst thing: sweetish, murky, decaying -like dead bodies but worse. And Dean considered himself one of the more qualified people to rate the aroma of dead bodies.

As Dean sputtered, and tried to make sure none of it had gotten in his mouth, he felt Cas move to his side.

"Are you alright, Dean?" Cas asked in that too serious way of his. He held out a paper towel, and Dean took it gratefully, rubbing at his skin, and hoping that the acid burn he was feeling was just in his head.

"Yeah," he grumbled. "The sink just decided to friggin attack me!"

Cas turned his head, and peered down into the mess like he was examining a science experiment. There was a lone bubble that slowly filled and popped in a rainbow burst of grease and fumes as they watched.

"What do we do about that?" Cas looked like he was already mentally rolling up his sleeves. Though, the guy was already wearing a tee shirt, so there was no point. Man, sometimes, it was still weird to see him wearing normal clothes, even though he'd been human for months.

"Fix it, I guess." Dean said, reluctant. He knew how, he'd done it countless times in motels, odd jobs, and for Lisa. But, in all his years of amatuer plumbing, he'd never seen something so nasty. He half wanted to pull out the EMF meter. Guess that's what you get when you live in a place that is old as balls, and had been closed up for over sixty years.

The last thing Dean wanted to do was get up under the monster or whatever was in his pipes, and let all that gunk out... He looked over at Cas, and narrowed one eye.

"I'll get the tools, why don't you check out what it looks like under there."

"What do you mean?"

Dean gestured to the cupboard under the sink, currently the only thin barrier between the pipes apparently full of grossness.
"Just lay down and look at the pipes. See if anything looks weird."

Cas looked at him suspiciously, and Dean knew the jig was up. Man, he'd barely even started.

"I think I'll wait out here. After all, I don't know much about human plumbing." Castiel replied, looking far too pious for a fallen
angel.

"What? I was just asking you to take a look. I'll do the dirty work. Geez." Dean protested, trying to play innocent. Cas saw through him like a clean window.

"I think you have more experience than me in this area, Dean. I'm happy to learn from you...from outside the cupboard."

Dean huffed, and ceded Cas the victory. "Fine, fine. I'll get the stuff."

He got the tools, and came back to find Cas jabbing a fork at the drain. Nothing was happening, but Dean had been enough strange things in his life to give a little start of alarm. He was only half sure this wasn't some creepy haunting/witchy thing, and
Cas had to go poke it with a fork.

"Don't touch it, man." Dean said, pulling Cas' arm. Cas moved back, but gave him a look. "What? It's nasty. You don't know how many years of sludge there's gotta be in there."

"It's not going to attack you, Dean." Castiel said, squinting his eyes. There was a slight smile on his face, the bastard.

"Considering our line of work, we don't actually know that." Dean said, completely reasonably. Cas shrugged slightly, and moved back.

Dean picked up his tool bag again, and then took a breath. "Alright pipes. It's just you and me."

Cas smirked from behind him, raising his fingers in protest. "I'm providing 'back up'."

"Traitor." Dean retorted, and Cas raised his eyebrow, causing Dean to snort. Shaking his head, he bent and peered up under the kitchen cupboard. They looked fine, but whoo boy did it smell under there. He must have made some noise of disgust, because Cas laughed. Dean wagged his hips a little, and yelled through his watering eyes.

"Hey backup! I hope you're enjoying the view."

"It is a very good view, Dean." Cas tried to reply seriously, but his laughter ruined it.

Grumbling, Dean twisted around, and lay looking up at the twist of copper pipes that drained the water from -and currently fed the sludge into- the kitchen sink. Now that he was down here, he was determined to get this fixed up. There was no way that a gross, slimy monster thing was going to plug up his drain. This was his kitchen, dammit. His sweat and blood went into making this workable again, after the sixty year shut up. Goo's gotta go.

Cas handed him the tools he asked for, and Dean lost himself for a while in the clank of pipes, and the feel of the wrench in his hand. Until a loud, squidgy sound started to rumble through the copper. Dean's eyes widened, and he tried to scramble backwards out from under the blasting zone. Cas' knees were in the way, however, and Dean got his legs tangled , sliding out of the cupboard almost in time to miss the wave of the brown glop, rushing out of the half fixed pipe.

It splashed heavily on him, a cold, slimy mass that tasted of crap, and Levithan goo. Dean fell back, yelling and wiping at his face ineffectually. Cas hadn't gotten free either, by the sound of his disgust.

"Urgh!" Dean spat, shaking his hands off, and trying to repress an involuntary shudder through his whole body. "Dammit!"

Cas was rubbing at his mouth, spitting onto the messy floor. "Blah," He was making the most ridiculous face, sticking his tongue out, and squinting his eyes up. "That's disgusting!"

Dean was more covered, but he'd managed to keep it mostly clear of his mouth at least, and so he couldn't help but laugh at Cas' predicament. Cas cut him a glare, the effect of which was lessened by the spatter across his face.

"Thank you for that, Dean." Cas said, utilizing his rarely heard dry sarcasm. Dean only laughed harder.

"Sorry, it's just...it's all over your face." Dean tried to keep his lips closed while laughing, to avoid the goo, but he kept breaking into giggles. "You look like the swamp thing."

Castiel smeared his hand down his face, and shook off the goop onto the floor. Dean pointed at him with his own goppy hand.

"You're cleaning that."

"Hey, do you guys know where the- uh..." Sam's voice made them both look up to see the giant himself standing in the
doorway to the kitchen. "Um...What's going on?"

Dean and Cas looked at each other, and kneeling haphazardly next to each other on the floor in the middle of a pile of sludge. The kitchen was a mess with Dean's unfinished cookie dough, and the oven was still on. Dean cracked a smile, which in turn cracked on his face where the shit was starting to dry, and gave a little finger wave. Sam, looking highly disturbed, backed up a step. His face screwed up as the smell wafted closer to him.

Castiel looked far too serious for a guy with a smear of goo across his face, and answered Sam.

"We just had a mishap with the plumbing."

"Okay, well, I'm just gonna go...find something else to do." Sam said, and turned tail. Dean called after him.

"You sure you don't want to help clean up?"

Cas swatted his shoulder, and carefully stood. His shoes squelched on the floor.

"Well, should we finish this?" He asked, putting a hand down to help Dean to his feet.

"Oh, now you want to help?" Dean retorted, standing slowly.

"I'm very good help." Cas picked up the wrench from the floor, wiped it off on his filthy shirt, and then handed it over to Dean. Snorting, Dean took it.

A while later, still covered in drying crap, Dean turned the handle and watched as nice clear water flowed into the working drain.

Cas clapped a hand on his shoulder, flaking off bits of brown as he moved.

"See, Dean. I knew you could do it."