Title: Reader's Special: Fourth Edition - One Shot Reward Fic Collection
Author: Disasteriffic Kaz
Info: A collection of 1 Shot Reward Fics for Prompters of my Reader's Special: Fourth Edition. Features many seasons, hurt/limp/awesome/caring!Sam/Dean/John/Bobby See each chapter for specific info for each 1 shot reward fic.
Author's Note: The Reader's Special: Fourth Edition was a smashing success! Prompters of the story were offered a One Shot Reward story of their choice. These are they. None of the chapters contained in this collection are connected. Each one is a stand-alone one shot per the Prompters request. Thank you to all of you who prompted the Reader's Special! You were fantastic as always!
Chapter Info: For Kelisem - since it has been far too long since we've seen it in the show (and I bet we won't be getting it soon...) How about a prank war :-)
A/N: You know, it's the kind of thing you'd think would be easy but sit down and try to think up Winchester worthy pranks on the spot. ROFL Thank goodness for JaniceC678 and the internet. HA! Also…finished another book. Keep your eyes out in the next month or so. :D
This one is set after 8x20 "Pac Man Fever" :D because it couldn't be all Trials-angst all the time or the boys would have collapsed under the pressure. Sam. Dean. Blowing off a little steam Winchester style. Hope you like it!
Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P
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Dean walked along the hall of the bunker, whistling 'Back in Black' softly as he neared the library and then rolled his eyes when he reached it. Sam was exactly where he'd left him six hours before on his way to bed, bent over the long table with a dusty book under his nose and hair that looked like he'd stuck his finger in a light socket.
"Dude, I told you to get some sleep." Dean stomped into the library and up the few steps to his brother and then stopped with a small chuckle. "Guess you did. Dumbass." Sam was out cold with his face pressed into the book. He reached out a hand to wake him up and then pulled back. "You're just gonna argue with me," Dean said softly. He ran a hand through his hair and then smirked. He pulled the belt of his borrowed robe tighter and left quietly, heading for the kitchen. It had only been days since Charlie had left and his trip through her subconscious thanks to the Djinn still weighed on him. Most of the time, he felt like he was drowning under the weight of what was happening to his brother, and there was a voice in the back of his mind that, no matter how ruthlessly he squashed it down, was convinced he'd be losing his little brother at the end of these trials.
Dean pushed that thought away and turned into the kitchen. It was time they took a day and lightened up a little, especially as they were off the job for the next few days while they healed. He put a hand up to the back of his head and ran his fingers over the neat row of eleven stitches under his hair. It had been a hell of a crack he'd taken when the ghoul had thrown him backwards into the wall. He wished he could remember the rest of that job. All he knew was he'd woken up with a merrily burning, headless ghoul in front of him and a worried-to-death little brother leaning over him. Sam hadn't come out of it unscathed either. The ghoul had damn near torn his left shoulder out of its socket before Sam had managed to get hold of Dean's shotgun and blow its head off.
"And that's another thing I'm gonna kick his ass for," Dean grumbled and bent to open the cupboards under the sink. The sling Sam wasn't supposed to remove for a week had been nowhere in sight. Clearly, his little brother's stubborn streak had made a reappearance. "Whoa." Dean swayed on his knees and slapped a hand out to the counter to stay upright while his head swam. That happened to him a lot in the two days since the ghoul, and he dearly wished it'd go the hell away. He held his head until his vision cleared and reached under the sink, digging through the box there until he found what he wanted. Dean grinned. "Game on, Sammy."
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Sam woke slowly, feeling groggy as he usually did lately when he was lucky enough to fall asleep and stay that way for more than an hour. He cleared his throat and blinked gritty eyes open. He realized he'd fallen asleep at the table with his face in his book and sighed, knowing Dean would never let him hear the end of it if he found him there. "Crap," Sam groaned softly and pulled an arm up to brace himself with… or tried to. He frowned when his arm didn't move. "The hell…" He lifted his head and looked down and realized he couldn't move either arm and had, at some point while he slept, been duct-taped into his chair.
"DEAN!" Sam bellowed and jerked up, trying to dislodge the tape. "Dean, dammit! Not funny!"
Dean's laughter preceded him around the corner, and he had to wipe tears from his eyes with the sight of his brother bouncing and twisting in the chair as he struggled to work the tape loose. "Mornin', Sammy!"
"You jerk!" Sam twisted back and forth and finally managed to get one arm free of the loops of tape wrapped from his shoulders down to his hips, albeit not as tightly as they could have been if Dean had really been really serious about restraining him; even wrapping him in tape, Dean had taken care not to touch his injured shoulder. "When I get outta this…"
"You're gonna put your ass in bed where it belonged in the first place," Dean finished with a grin. He wisely backed up a few steps as Sam started tearing the duct tape away from his shirts and turned a glare at him.
"You keep snickering like that and I'm gonna kick your ass," Sam promised darkly as he finally managed to free himself from the chair. He balled up the torn and tangled duct tape and threw it at his still laughing brother as he stood and then had to stop and clasp a hand around his aching left shoulder.
"Bet that'd feel better if you had it in the damn sling like you're supposed to." Dean raised his hands and kept his distance as Sam came down the stairs and turned into the hall. "Just takin' care of my pain-in-the-ass little brother." He grinned at Sam's angry scowl. Dean knew that look on his brother's face; it promised that Dean had started a war, and he decided right then to hide all the duct tape in the bunker before Sam could wrap him into his bed with it.
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Sam adjusted the sling around his left arm and rolled his head on his shoulders as he walked into the library. He'd actually broken down and taken the painkillers Dean kept leaving for him in a bid to back the burning ache off. He scowled when he heard the door to the bunker open and leaned on the map table as Dean appeared above him.
"Dean. What part of 'no driving with a concussion' doesn't get through your cracked head?" Sam asked sweetly as his big brother came down the stairs.
Dean rolled his eyes when he reached the bottom and held up the grocery bags. "Kitchen doesn't stock itself, dumbass."
"Then next time, tell me and I'll drive." Sam took the bags from him and took a good look at Dean's face. He was a little paler than he should be and sweating. "All those passing headlights set off another headache?"
"Dude," Dean groaned, irritated at having been read so easily. His head was pounding, and the last few minutes to the bunker had been a fight to keep his eyes open and the Impala straight on the road. He'd spent ten minutes just sitting out in the car before coming in so Sam wouldn't see what a dumbass he'd been… obviously, that had been pointless. "I'm good."
"You could have wrecked the car and killed yourself," Sam said seriously and started down the hall toward the kitchen. "Next time, you ask me. I mean it, Dean."
"Yes, mom." Dean snorted and then wrapped a hand over his eyes once Sam was out of sight. "Crap, that hurts."
"Go shower!" Sam called from the hall and headed for the kitchen.
Dean sighed and nodded. Hot water had proven to be a good way to alleviate the pain from the concussion, so long as he was careful to brace himself on a wall and not get dizzy and land on his ass. "Friggin mother hen," he grumbled. He passed the kitchen, looking in and saw his brother emptying the grocery bags onto the counter. "Jolly Ranchers are mine, bitch!"
Sam chuckled and picked up the bag. "Hate these things."
Dean caught the bag when Sam tossed it to him and grinned. "Why you think I buy 'em?" He waved the bag and carried on down the hall to his room. He stopped in long enough to grab some clothes and a towel and then headed for the showers while his head pounded. He wished they had their own showers, but there was something to be said for the bunker's showers. The Men of Letters had been into creature comforts, and each of the four shower cubicles boasted two shower heads and jets down the walls along with a supply of hot water that never seemed to run out no matter how long Sam stood under them.
Dean stripped off his clothes and stepped into one of the cubicles, pulling the sliding door closed. He turned on the water, letting it run nice and hot before he flicked the lever for the shower heads and groaned in bliss as it began to beat on his sore body. He angled his head under one of the streams and let it run over him, soothing the headache that had been pounding there for three days straight. He tipped his face up into the spray and frowned. The water felt wrong, and it smelled like…
"What the fuck?" Dean yelled and pulled his head out from under the spray. He blinked his eyes open and stared in shock as brown water frothed out of the shower heads down onto him with the strong smell of beef soup. "Sammy, you son of a bitch!"
Sam chuckled in the kitchen when he heard Dean's muffled bellow and finished putting away the groceries. He wasn't surprised when, a minute later, Dean stomped into the kitchen. He was wet, dripping from the shower and the towel hitched around his hips was stained brown. "Beef bouillon cubes in the shower heads? Really, Sam?" Sam grinned and ducked away when Dean flung an arm out to try and spray him with beef-flavored water. "I owed you, man."
"Oh, it's on, Sammy," Dean promised darkly and stalked back out of the kitchen with a snarl.
Sam bent over the counter, laughing so hard he was making his own shoulder ache. "Ow, ow, ow…holy crap. Worth it."
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Dean set a tray on the table in the library with a sandwich and bowl of soup for his brother and then looked up in surprise when there was a loud knock from the door into the bunker. "Huh." He turned and grabbed his gun from the table and swayed when the room spun dizzily around him for a moment. "Sh…shit." He waited for his head to settle and climbed the metal stairs up to the entrance. "Who is it?" Dean shouted and then groaned, putting a hand to his head as fresh pain sprang into life, thinking absently that they should probably put in a security camera to screen visitors, since almost no one knew where they were. He listened for an answer and a smile spread over his face when he recognized the very muffled voice. Dean pulled the door open and grinned. "Charlie! What're you doin' back here?"
"Hey, beefcake!" Charlie jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, delivering a solid hug and was surprised when he groaned and staggered back. "Dude! What gives?"
"Concussion." Dean said ruefully and let her feet back down to the floor. "I'm fine. Sam damn near got his shoulder yanked outta the socket. So, to what do we owe the pleasure?"
"Awe, nothin' much. I was in the neigh…" Charlie stopped and leaned into him, sniffing.
"What?" Dean frowned in confusion as she went up on tip-toe and sniffed along his jaw. "Ok, tell me you're not here 'cause you're turnin' into a dog or something."
"Why do you smell like…my Aunt Mary's beef stew?" Charlie looked up at him with raised brows.
Dean snarled and shoved the bunker door closed. "Because my little brother's a dick and doesn't know when to quit while he's ahead."
"Oookay. Doesn't really answer my question, but I'm sensing some fraternal mayhem here." Charlie chuckled and followed him down the stairs. She slapped her hands out to his shoulders and steadied him when he swayed again. "Ok, man. Maybe you should be, like…horizontal or something. You know, bed? Like normal humans who've had their heads bashed in. I'm just sayin'."
"It's fine. I'm fine." Dean reached the bottom and let Charlie go ahead of him. He flicked a lock of her red hair into her face and smiled. "So, what's up?"
"Just wanted to see how my two favorite bros are doing." Charlie smiled and walked up into the library. "Oh, dude! You made soup? I want!"
Dean snorted a laugh and grabbed her arm. "Ok, come on. Kitchen. Sam's in the shower." He glanced down the hall as they walked and smiled. "Should be out anytime now."
"So, is his shoulder really that bad?" Charlie asked, concerned because Sam hadn't looked too hot the last time she saw him and she didn't think the poor guy could take much more.
Dean shrugged and went into the kitchen. "It ain't great. Gotta take him back to the clinic day after tomorrow for a new set of x-rays to make sure he's in one piece." He smiled. "He's whining about it."
"Uh huh." Charlie smirked, sure that Sam was doing anything but whining. The man was a little too good at hiding his pain, she thought, but didn't make the observation aloud. "So. Soup. Make a big…"
"Dean, you DICK!"
Charlie's eyes went wide when Sam's voice echoed through the building and she looked at the other brother. "What did you do?"
Dean just grinned and shook his head, trying very hard not to laugh, but he gave up when his brother came through the kitchen door. "Oh, holy crap. Hey…hey, Sammy."
"Why am I sticky? What the hell'd you do?" Sam demanded angrily and put a hand to his stomach, pulling it away with a faint sucking sound.
"Turn…" Dean had to stop and try to catch his breath from the laughter, but it was hard. "Turn about is fair play, Sammy!" He bent over the counter laughing and shook his head. "Jolly Ranchers…in the shower head. Holy shit, that's awesome. I didn't think that was gonna work!"
Charlie was a bit lost for words for a moment as Sam stood there in the door, all six-feet-four inches of him naked but for a towel tugged haphazardly around his hips. His hair was dripping water but it was stuck to his head and face at odd angles, and even the towel seemed to cling to his skin, outlining his thighs and…other things that Charlie was finally forced to look up and ignore the blush spreading over her face.
"Dude," Charlie started and felt tears gathering in her eyes with the need to laugh. "If I was straight, pretty sure this is where I'd lick you like a lollipop."
Dean lost his attempt at composure with Charlie's words and bent double over the counter, resting his head on his arm as he howled with laughter. It wasn't doing his head any favors as new pain crashed around his skull, but it was just too damn funny.
"Idiot!" Sam flushed from his head down to his toes as he realized he was standing virtually naked in front of Charlie, but then he saw Dean's legs start to wobble and he blew out a breath. "Charlie grab a chair."
"Huh? Why?"
"'Cause my idiot brother's about to laugh himself into unconsciousness. Woop…there…crap." Sam leaped across the kitchen and caught Dean before he could slide off the counter. "There he goes. Chair?"
"Oh, man." Charlie pulled the chair over and held it still so Sam could lower Dean down into it. "He said he was fine!"
Sam smiled at her fondly. "He is. When you get your head knocked around this bad, sometimes it doesn't take much to put you out." He held Dean up and tipped his brother's head back. "It mostly sucks, but it's not dangerous or anything really, long as he doesn't hit the floor and hit his head again. Hey! Dumbass!" Sam tapped his brother's cheek and smiled when Dean's eyes fluttered open. "If you're done playing Sleeping Beauty, think you can amuse Charlie for five minutes while I go fix this and get dressed?"
"Bite me, Sammy," Dean growled and pushed himself up so he was sitting straighter. He was a little humiliated that that had happened again. That made four times now since the initial injury that he'd ended up out cold for one dumb thing or another and it was getting old.
"Just keep an eye on him. Don't let him run with scissors or something." Sam grinned and ducked the rather pathetic punch Dean aimed at him. "I'll be back."
"Hey, Sam, not that I'm not enjoying the…you know…I mean, dude, could that towel BE any smaller?" Charlie waved a hand in the vicinity of his hips and looked studiously up at the ceiling. "But, um…should your shoulder actually look all puffed up and shit like that? Doesn't that hurt?"
"Huh?" Sam looked over and down at his left shoulder and grimaced for the clearly swollen joint. It did hurt, but he hadn't really registered it until just then, now that the adrenaline of being pissed at his brother was wearing off. "It's fine. Back in a few."
"Put the damn sling on!" Dean shouted and then groaned, hunching over his head in the chair.
Charlie put a hand to his shoulder with a smile and shook her head. "Let me guess; you're just fine too?"
"Yep. Peachy. Fine. We're fine all around." Dean gave a soft laugh and pushed up under Charlie's watchful eye. "Was totally worth it. You see the look on his face?"
Charlie couldn't help but laugh as she watched him grab a bowl and start ladling out soup for her from a bit pot. "I dated this girl in…um…Arkansas?" She shook her head. "Alabama? Well, it started with an 'A'. Anyway…"
Dean chuckled under his breath and turned back with the bowl, sliding it over the counter to her. "Here."
"Bonus." Charlie grinned and leaned over the bowl to sniff. "Anyway, this chick. She was like totally smokin'. I mean she made slave Leia look like the ugly step-sister, you know what I mean?" She smiled when Dean just grinned and nodded. "Also…yoga instructor. Dude. Date yoga chicks. Seriously."
"Done that." Dean leaned back and rubbed his knuckles on his shirt.
"Right?" Charlie held up a hand and laughed when Dean gave her a firm high-five. "So anyway, gorgeous and bendy, but holy CRAP she drove me nuts always leavin' her Pokemon crap around my apartment. I mean, Pok-e-suck. Lame." She leaned back and waggled her brows. "So I used to get her back. I crushed up white antacids and put them in her sugar bowl. Dude, it's like mount Vesuvius when that stuff hits hot coffee." She frowned and looked up at him. "It's just possible I'm the reason that relationship didn't last."
Dean laughed and nodded. "You think? Eat already."
Charlie ate some of the soup, making appreciative noises and then raised a brow as she looked at Dean. "So, what exactly started the Winchester war here?"
"I fired the first volley," Dean admitted easily and snorted a laugh. "Duct taped him to his chair while he was sleeping, which I wouldn't have done if the jackass had gone to bed in the first place like I told him, so really, it's all Sam's fault."
Charlie laughed again and shook her head fondly. "Boys will be boys, I guess." She finished her soup by the time Sam reappeared, this time fully clothed and looking less… sticky. "All good, big guy?"
Sam smiled and then turned the expected glare to his brother. "No damage done." He tossed his sling at Dean's face with his good arm. "You want me to wear it so bad, you get it on me."
Dean chuckled and came around the island, watching his brother warily for signs he was going to get punched. When he was sure Sam wasn't planning to murder him, he smiled and moved around him. "Hold still."
Charlie sat back and watched with a small, affectionate smile as Dean gently maneuvered the sling around Sam's shoulder and chest and then eased his brother's arm into it, talking softly to soothe him when Sam hissed with discomfort and dropping a caring hand to the back of his neck for a moment when he was done before moving away again. "You guys are gonna kill me," Charlie said softly and waved a hand at their confused faces when she stood. "Nothing. I gotta jet. I just wanted to check in. I'll come back day after tomorrow." She grabbed Dean in a hug and then turned, being more careful of Sam as she leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Make sure you're still in one piece when I come back, big guy."
"Yes, ma'am," Sam laughed.
Dean let Sam lead Charlie out, listening to their voices and Charlie's light laugh before the clang of the bunker's door sounded. He left the kitchen and grabbed Sam's arm when he reached the bottom of the stairs. "You. Food. Now."
Sam let his big brother shove him up the library steps and dropped into a chair at the table with a tray of food in front of it. "Are you ever gonna stop mother-henning me?"
"Nope. Deal." Dean sat in the chair across from him and kicked his feet up on the table. "So, we even on this prank war yet?"
"Sure," Sam said with a smile.
Dean's brows rose because that had been way too easy. "Right. Even. War over."
"Yep." Sam gave him another smile and started in on his soup.
Dean groaned and ran a hand over his face. "Oh, I'm gonna regret startin' this shit, aren't I?"
"Yep."
"Son of a bitch."
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Dean emptied his clip into the target and set his gun down. He pulled the protectors off his ears and rubbed at his forehead. The concussion was better, but the sound of his own gun, even through the protectors was enough to set his head pounding again. "Damn." He quickly put his gun up and looked up the stairs leading out of the gun range. It'd been a whole day with no reprisals from his brother for the Jolly Rancher shower and Dean was beginning to twitch. He smirked and started up the stairs because that was likely exactly what his little brother was going for. "Pain in my ass," Dean grumbled as he reached the top of the stairs and headed for the library.
Sam was, as usual, at one of the tables and face-first in yet another heavy book. He glanced up when Dean appeared and raised a brow. "How's your head this time?"
Dean waved a hand dismissively. "Getting better. How's your shoulder, gimp?"
"Better." Sam refused to rise to the bait and leaned back in his chair, careful of his shoulder in the sling that Dean wouldn't let him out of his room without. "This'll come off tomorrow. You watch."
Dean nodded because as fun as it was teasing his brother, he did want him to be fighting fit again… or as close to that as Sam was able to get these days. He took a closer look at his brother and noted that while he was pale, his face was flushed, he was sweating and trying very hard to not look as miserable as he clearly felt. He rolled his eyes and smiled. "I'm gonna make some chili."
"Dean."
"And you're gonna eat it." Dean finished for him and stood. "No arguments. Then you're gonna go lay the hell down because you look like you're about to fall over and I ain't carryin' your gigantor ass."
Sam shook his head and went back to his book. "Whatever."
"Damn right, whatever," Dean shot back and rolled his eyes when Sam smirked at him. "Shuddup, bitch." He left his brother there and headed for the kitchen, detouring for the bathroom. "Stubborn, grumpy, pain in my ass," he grumbled as he shut the door behind him and quickly relieved himself. Dean reached down and flushed the toilet, straightened to zip up his jeans and then staggered back a step as water rushed into the bowl and a flood of soapy suds erupted up out of it to overflow onto the floor and over his feet.
"SAM!" Dean bellowed and spun to open the door. His boots slipped on the soapy linoleum and he went down on his ass in the sudsy tide with a roar of frustration. "Son of a bitch!"
Sam pushed open the bathroom door and the grin he'd worn down the hall listening to his brother turned into howls of laughter. He danced out of the way as the soapy apocalypse started to foam out into the hall and braced his good arm on the wall while he laughed. "Holy…holy crap, Dean!"
"Gonna kill you!" Dean used the door to pull himself back to his feet and stalked out with his boots squeaking at every step. Each little squeak only served to make his brother laugh harder and Dean's glare deepen. "Oh, you think that's funny?"
"Dude, that's…that's…" Sam couldn't speak and had to stop, leaning back to wipe his eyes. "Wow."
Dean squelched off down the hallway to the showers and barely resisted the urge to punch Sam. Only the fact that his little brother was still walking wounded stopping him. "Paybacks are a bitch, little brother," he growled softly.
The next morning, Dean lay in his bed and listened to his brother in the showers. He grinned as he heard each shower turn on in turn, Sam no doubt checking to make sure there weren't any surprises waiting for him, but Dean was far too crafty to use the same gag twice and Sam should know better. He got up and pulled on his sweats and a shirt and headed for the kitchen to make coffee with a cheerful whistle. He was watching the coffee drip slowly into the pot by the time the first shout sounded and pouring his first cup by the time his, once again towel-covered and dripping brother stalked into the kitchen.
"Mornin', Sammy." Dean said and turned with a smile. He snorted into his coffee cup and burst out laughing. Sam's hair was half-covered in shampoo suds and standing out in ridiculous spikes from his head while his brother glared death at him.
"If my hair falls out again…" Sam threatened in a low voice. "What did you put in the shampoo?"
Dean started laughing and set his coffee down before he spilled it. "Icy hot. Bet that's a nice warm feelin' you got goin' there."
"You ass!" Sam ducked around him to the sink and turned the faucet on. He ducked his head under it and started scrubbing his hair furiously to get it out. He managed to get his uncooperative left arm up to help, grimacing against the burn. "You suck!"
Dean stifled his laughter and moved up next to his brother. "Ok. Ok. Don't get your panties in a bunch, princess."
Sam stomped on Dean's foot next to his once and then resigned himself to letting Dean work the crap out of his hair. His left arm wasn't doing him much good and he eased it back down and held it across his chest while Dean worked. "Shit burns, dude."
Dean snorted and nodded. "Yep. I had to wash soapy toilet water off me, dude. There had to be payback. We done now?"
Sam glared at the bottom of the sink and slammed his eyes closed as the water threatened to run into his eyes, finally huffing out a disgusted breath. "Fine. Yeah. Truce."
"Good." Dean grinned and gave his brother's head another rinse. "How's it feel now?"
"Less burning." Sam leaned up and snagged the dishtowel from the counter with his good arm to rub it over his head. He moved away toward the door and then grimaced. "Hey, Dean?"
"Yeah?" Dean picked his coffee up again and looked over at his little brother, satisfied that he'd had the last word.
"Uh, I mean it. I'm done. Seriously." Sam smiled and backed out the door. He hitched the towel on his hips higher and gave his brother a crooked smile. "But, uh…I didn't know that before I… well, before you woke up this morning."
Dean scowled and lowered his coffee. "Sammy, what'd you do?"
Sam couldn't help the laugh and waved the dish towel at the cabinets. "Check the cupboards. Oh, crap."
"You messed with my kitchen?" Dean asked in disbelief. He went to the cupboard Sam had pointed at and wrenched the doors open. He stared in open-mouthed disbelief at the rows of shiny silver cans… all with their labels torn off. "Are you kidding me?"
Sam burst into laughter and raised his hands in defeat. "I'm sorry. I can probably figure out what's what again."
"Sammy, you bitch! We're gonna have mystery meals for a month because you had to River Tam this shit?"
Sam's laughter stopped on a gasp and he stared at his big brother as a grin split his face. "You did watch it!"
"What?" Dean took out a few of the cans and thumped them angrily down on the counter.
"I KNEW you watched Firefly!" Sam crowed and laughed again. "Can't deny it now!"
Dean stared and then rolled his eyes. He couldn't help but start laughing as well and nodded. "Fine. Yes. I watched it, ok?" He pointed a finger at his brother. "I'm tellin' you, dude. All those Fox execs? Demon possessed. Why the hell else would you kill that show after one season?" He grinned at his brother's laughter and shrugged. "Mal's bad ass, Sammy. Hell, yes, I watched it." Dean cocked his head when he heard a muffled banging from the front of the bunker and grinned at Sam again. "That's probably Charlie. Said she was comin' back today. Go put some pants on before she has to look at your ass again."
Sam laughed all the way back to his room and dressed as quickly as he was able with his shoulder. He picked up his sling and went back out to find Dean and Charlie both chuckling in the kitchen. "Hey, Charlie."
"Big guy!" Charlie came over and slipped her arms around his waist for a hug. She grabbed the sling out of his hand when she pulled back and grinned up at him as she eased it up his bad arm for him. "Dean's cracked, man. Zoe was so the better bad ass on Firefly."
Sam chuckled and allowed Charlie to help him get his arm in the sling. "Think she's right, Dean. Can't see Mal pulling off all that ass-kicking in a corset."
Dean rolled his eyes with a chuckle. "Whatever, dude. Come on." He looked at his watch and raised a brow at Sam. "We leave now, we can just make it in time." He looked over at Charlie and patted a hand on her shoulder. "You stickin' around?"
"Yeah. I wanted to check a couple things in the awesome library." Charlie smiled and gave both men a push toward the door. "Also deplete your coffee supply a little."
Sam chuckled and let them herd him toward the stairs. "You guys are ridiculous, you know that?"
Charlie saw them off, waving and closed the door behind them. She grinned and clapped her hands together. "Time to get busy."
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Dean parked the Impala in front of the bunker and smirked over at his brother. "Dude, lighten up."
"Nope," Sam said grumpily and pushed his door open. The sling on his left arm had graduated to bandages wrapping it and strapping it across his chest. He'd irritated the joint over the last week and the doctor had not been happy with him. "This sucks."
"I know." Dean felt guilty as hell. He knew it was their prank war that had done the damage, and while Sam had gleefully participated, he'd started the whole thing. "Come on." He came around the passenger side of the car and gave Sam a steadying hand as he stood up.
"Hey, guys!" Charlie came out of the bunker and jogged up to meet them. She frowned with concern when she saw Sam. "Uh, thought you were gonna lose the whole broken wing look today?"
"He overdid things a little this week," Dean said and ran a hand through his hair ruefully. "Prank war might've had something to do with it."
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes, taking pity on his brother. "It's fine. I should have been more careful."
"You guys are like, way too jeopardy-friendly, you know that right?" Charlie smiled and gave Sam a careful hug before turning and giving Dean one hard enough to squeeze his ribs.
Dean returned it warmly and smiled. "You leavin' already?"
"Yep. Got some gamin' to do." Charlie grinned. "There's this little punk in Venezuela who thinks he can school me in Halo." She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Dude's gonna be cryin' in his Red Bull by morning."
"Give 'em hell, Charlie." Dean laughed and let her go.
"Peace out, bitches." Charlie started up the road toward her car and turned back, red hair flying to grin at them. "Hey! You guys ever want lessons from the master, just let me know!"
"Huh." Sam followed Dean toward the bunker and looked after Charlie curiously. "What'd that mean?"
"Who knows with her. She keeps life interesting." Dean said fondly and unlocked the bunker door. "In you go, gimp." He followed Sam down the stairs and bumped into his back at the bottom. "Dude! Move it!"
"Oh… my God." Sam breathed and took a few hesitant steps forward as his eyes went wide and his mouth fell open. "Dean."
"What? What's…" Dean moved around Sam and gaped in open shock. "Holy crap!" The entire war room and, as Dean moved further in to peer around the corner, the library as well had been covered in aluminum foil. Every table, every chair, even the books and table lamps glittered in the overhead lights. In the two hours they'd been gone, Charlie had been busy. Dean started laughing and heard Sam joining in behind him. "Dude. We just got schooled."
Sam laughed and walked up the stairs into the library. He bent over the nearest table and laughed even harder. "Dude! She… she even wrapped my pens!"
Dean walked over to the weapon display in the corner and had to wipe tears from his eyes. "She wrapped the friggin swords, dude!"
Sam dropped into a chair, giving another loud bark of laughter when the foil crinkled as he sat and shook his head. "Oh, man. This is…are we sure she's not, like, a long lost Winchester cousin or something?"
Dean shook his head and pulled a foil wrapped book off the shelf. "She's definitely one now, dude." He couldn't stop laughing when he saw even the legs of the tables and chairs had been wrapped.
"Yeah. Yeah, she is." Sam leaned back and grinned around the shiny, silver room then looked over at his brother with a raised brow. "We're gonna get her back, right?"
"Well, duh. Can't let her get away with this!" Dean thumped a fist into the table, grinning as the foil tore. "She's definitely a Winchester now."
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The End.
Next up: Jaden Grace1
