Sam managed to catch his brother's eye as he fired hap-haphazardly at one of the dozen encroaching angels. He could see the great, oozing slash in Dean's side, and the way he was leaning, the haze that was beginning to creep around those green irises-signaling what could only be a few more moments of consciousness. Sam looked back at the human vessels picking themselves off the ground, eyes alight with power and fury, and he was pretty sure that this was going to be it. He didn't see a way out of this one, not with Raphael so near, and Dean beginning to droop to floor from blood loss. Sam quickly ran the several steps it took to get to his brother's side. Dean grinned tiredly at him. Sam smiled back. If the Winchesters were going out, they were going to do it fighting, and side by side.

Suddenly, Castiel was beside them, blue eyes bright and livid and desperate, and he was roughly grabbing Sam and Dean's wrists and shouting something that made the Winchester's ears ring, and then the three were gone, vanished in a flurry of feathers and blood.

Sam came to consciousness slowly and painfully. He felt like he'd been hit by a house. He gingerly cracked his eyes open to meet a garishly azure sky. He was lying on his back, in what must have been grass, but seemed abnormally bright green. He was surprised to see a dog lying at his side. A very familiar looking dog.

"Bones!" Sam croaked. The lab jumped to his feet and turned to greet his master, entire body wiggling with joy as he attempted to lick every exposed part of Sam that he could find. Sam laughed, then winced. He was pretty sure that those angels had broken at least two of his ribs. It was nothing, though, compared to what they had done to-

"Dean!" Sam cried, sitting up suddenly and gasping at the pain. Bones looked around helpfully. "Dean!"

Sam became aware of a large wooden house that seemed to have...fallen several yards away from him. There was no other explanation of the way the foundation was crumpled and the strange tilt that the whole structure sat at. Sam's attention was caught by another almost painfully bright color at the base of the house. It looked like the house had taken out someone in it's fall. Someone with...glittering ruby sneakers.

Sam's eyes widened as his mind slowly put pieces together. The sneakers faded from the base of the house, and Sam watched them materialize onto his own feet. For the first time, he took a look at his button up shirt, which was a white and light-blue checkered pattern.

Sam turned away from the house to find a group of small people- very small people- gathering at the outskirts of what looked to be a city built of candy. Sam gaped when he recognized one of the front-standing people as Ben, Lisa's son. Although he seemed to be wearing some sort of horrible lederhosen-suit, similar to what members of the group behind him wore.

"Bones," he said quietly. The dog's ears pricked forward.

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

"You did it," Ben said wonderingly, staring at the wooden house and the feet that were currently in the process of curling out of sight. He turned a wide eyed gaze on Sam.

"The demon is dead!"

"The demon is dead!" chorused the collection of small figures, who Sam was starting to recognize as various children that he and Dean had rescued in their hunting.

Sam was aware of some sort of bubble growing on the horizon, before it became uncomfortably close and suddenly burst right beside him. An extremely unamused Bobby emerged in an lacy white suit. He disdainfully held a stick with a star on it, presumably a wand, in one hand. He gave it an unenthusiastic wave.

"So you killed the yellow-eyed demon, and all these midgets here are grateful," he said.

"Bobby, what the hell-ow!" Sam stopped mid-question when Bobby gave him a very solid whack with the wand.

"I ain't finished!" he snapped.

"I've got a lot to do, so let's cut to the chase," Bobby continued, glowering. "You see that yellow-"

But the children, unable to contain their excitement, began the song slightly early, and could not be quelled by Bobby's indignant cries about timing. Music hastily swelled from the nauseatingly bright hills, and a timely wind swept in to ripple the grass

Ding dong, the demon's dead!

Yellow-Eyed has finally died

Ding dong, the wicked demon's dead!

Sam and Bobby followed after the group of parading children, who were going to an extraordinary length to vocalize how very, extremely dead the demon really was.

Part way through the song, however, just as the children were really getting into the tra la la's,

the sky shook and darkened, lightning struck, Bones began to bark, and suddenly, before them, stood Crowly in a handsome black suit. He looked over Bobby with a slight smile.

"I believe your Gran is missing several doilies," he remarked.

"Bite me!" spat Bobby.

Crowly turned a bored gaze on Sam.

"Well, my moose," he said, "You've killed my brother. What a shame. Though to be perfectly honest with you, I was never much of a fan of Yellow-Eyes. Not one of the classiest demons, if you know what I mean."

Sam gave him a blank look.

"And those hideous shoes of his," Crowly continued, before noticing said shoes residing comfortably around Sam's feet. He raised his eyebrows.

"Those rather powerful, hideous shoes. Inconvenient," he murmured. "I haven't the slightest where those mammoth feet of yours have been. I suppose it's nothing that some quality Tide-"

"Shut yer trap, Crowly!" Bobby said. Crowly shot him a dirty look.

"Those shoes are on Sam, and that's where they're staying," Bobby continued. Crowly heaved a sigh.

"Always trouble with you lot," he said, irritation leaking into his bored voice. "Fine. I'll be back."

The demon snapped his fingers and vanished in a final crack of thunder.

"Grow a pair, midgets!" Bobby shouted to the mass of cowering children. He sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose.

"Sulfur," he remarked.

"I ate some sulfur for lunch," Sam said seriously. "Bobby, how am I supposed to get out of here?"

"You gotta see Oz," Bobby replied. "He should be able to send you back."

"Where do I find him?" Sam continued. Bobby looked at him with exasperation.

"Follow the yellow brick road, ya idjit!"

With that, Bobby snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Sam glanced over at the children, who were staring at him gleefully and looked very near to bursting back into song.

"I got it, I got it," Sam said hastily, cutting off what he was sure was about to be a very repetitive and generally unhelpful musical number.

"Follow the yellow brick road."