Title: Trap Sprung
Author: JACmROB
Characters: Sam, Dean (gen)
Tags: Weechester
Author Note: Very random. Weechester drabble.
Dean watched the sky as it turned red with dawn.
"Dad's going to kill you, you know," he said slowly.
Sam shrugged. He gazed at the scene of utter destruction before him. Chairs were upturned, tables tipped over. The contents of shelves were strewn across the floor, books and papers and photographs littering every direction. Kitchen utensils mingled with broken glass and random bits of clothing, coated by water and tracts of mud. Windows were smashed, wallpaper was ripped, and the screen door lay broken on the tile. The TV lay in a ruined heap of cables.
"Should we try and clean it up?" he asked halfheartedly.
"Lost cause, Sammy," Dean answered. "You might as well cut your losses and start coming up with a good defense."
"What can we say?" Sam asked, looking at his brother expectantly. Dean glanced at Sam, half-amused, half-pitying.
"There is no 'we,' kiddo. You're taking the fall for this one."
"We didn't even get to keep it," Sam mumbled disappointedly. "I thought we'd trapped it. Who knew it'd break down the door?"
"What were you going to do with it, anyway?" Dean replied. "And for the record, I did. And I chose to take no part in your insanity."
Sam let out a long breath. Somewhere, the mournful cry of a loon sounded.
"It's not my fault there's nothing to do in the boonies out here. We don't even get cable."
"Think of an excuse yet?" Dean asked, unsuccessfully masking his smugness.
"Poltergeist?" Sam suggested hopefully.
"He'd never fall for it," Dean replied. Filtered sunlight began seeping across the horizon, elongating their shadows as the two brothers sat side by side on the porch. Dean closed his eyes absorbing the warmth. "Why don't you just take advantage of the peace before he gets home and all hell breaks loose?"
As if on cue, there was the sound of tires rolling up the driveway.
"Crap," Sam muttered miserably.
"Tough break, Sammy," Dean said, opening his eyes. He clapped his little brother on the shoulder. "Well, good luck. You're the one who can be at the door to greet him."
Sam looked at him pleadingly. Dean forced himself to remain stony-faced. He would not break to the Bambi-eyes.
"Not this time, kiddo. You still owe me from Saratoga, remember?"
Sam reluctantly heaved himself to his feet. Dean closed his eyes once more. There came the sound of a car door slamming, followed by footsteps, and then the squeak of a door opening.
A couple of seconds passed.
"Samuel, what the hell happened here?"
It was his father's dangerously pissed-off voice. There was another pause. Dean caught Sam's apologetic mumble.
"And why would you ever think it would be a good idea to lure a goddamned moose into the house?!"
FIN
A/N: Review, please! I 3 the weechesters.
-JR