Sam cocked his head. There was a strange humming noise coming from outside the pocket. Low, almost rumpling, the sound pulsated.
"Cas...?" Sam called, attempting to peek out of the pocket. A giant finger pushed him back into the dark confines.
"Stay there." The angel's voice was commanding, and paired with the previous gesture, mildly insulting.
Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam. Not quite an 'I Toldja so' about the whole getting shoved down by a finger thing but... Admittedly, it was damn satisfying to see the disgruntled look on Sam's face after getting a taste of his own medicine.
Keeping his leg against the base of the deck, Dean pulled out his switch blade again and chiseled a little peephole for himself in the front of the pocket. He shut the knife, then tossed it over to Sam so he could do the same.
As Sam began to saw himself a hole, Castiel suddenly was on the move. The pocket was jostled and Sam was sent tumbling into Dean. Thankfully the knife had landed in such a way that it shut itself, offering a small bit of luck to the brothers.
The noise seemed to grow louder, pusating faster and faster...
Dean muttered a "get off" and rolled out from under his little bro. They both huddled near his little hole. Every other step sent them swinging backwards a way, but they adjusted.
"The hell..?" Dean breathed. He leaned back so Sam could peek after a while. "Get a load of this."
The muddy moat had been stalking them for the last ten mjnutes. Now that they were nearly upon the bedazzled front gates, it was gathering consciousness and taking form as some sort of drippy humanoid monster.
Sam pursed his lips.
"This is ridiculous..." Eyeing the cards, and then the strange creature, Sam shouted up to Cas,
"You think you can handle this?"
Blue eyes flickered downward for the briefest of seconds.
"Gabriel may have grounded me here, but I am not useless." Castiel's voice came above and around them. The slightly annoyed tone was hard to miss.
"Sheesh, someone's touchy." Dean shared a look with Sam in the darkness. A bloodcurdling screech broke through the air. Castiel stood strong, center in the gateway to the towering candy castle. The chocolate fudge creature rose up To a daunting height, then dove, tendrils outstretched for the angel.
"Hold on," Sam warned Dean, as he backed away from the hole,
"And keep your hand on a card..." whispered Sam, "Just in case."
The impact was hard. Unable to tell which way was up, let alone if it was Castiel moving, or the creature attacking, Sam only concern at the moment was keeping himself from being jostled out of the pocket.
Dean gave a short nod. It was all he could do, as the world suddenly tipped sideways. They were jolted up, back, side to side, and quite painfully into each other at times. Whatever it was, it was putting up a heck of a fight. Castiel was praying as he fought. To his big brother; that he give up his petty battle and listen to the truth. Gabriel seemed to ignore him.
From inside the pocket, Sam could feel Castiel's muscles tense. The air crackled with energy, and the scent of burning chocolate.
He slammed into Dean after a sharp jerk from Castiel jostled him for his position. He heard Castiel's breathing become harsh, as he muttered a muffled "How?"
"Gabriel! Let them go. Taking advantage of the weak is not our father's will. You know this!"
Dean frowned. Who was he calling weak?
In reply the fudge monster released its grip on Castiel's neck, instead gripping his ankle and hoisting him high into the air. The pocket's contents shifted ground ward, cards fluttering to the ground in a flurry.
"Sam!" Dean stabbed the knife into the back of the pocket and lunged with his freehand to catch his brother from sliding out.
"Dean! The cards!" Sam held Dean's arm with all the strength he could muster, but he knew neither of them would be able to hold on for long.
"Brother!" Roared Castiel, "Stop this!"
The knife, weighed by the collaborative weight of both brothers, cut through more fabric. They jerked lower, dangling dangerously over the ground. Dean watched the last card fall. As it did, he got a look at the flipside: it was a "Get out of jail free" card.
Close enough. It had to be. Gritting his teeth, Dean took a leap of faith and released the knife. He lunged for the card and just barely grabbed the edge, refusing to let go of Sam's hand as they plunged downward.
Complete silence and darkness dropped upon his senses like an anvil.
He opened his eyes on a cold tile floor, somewhere inside a building. There wasn't much in the room that could be attributed to his current scale with the exception of a clock embeedded into the floor. Odd. He picked himself up and looked around for Sam or Castiel. They had both been falling beside him moments ago, but he was definitely alone now.
"Sammy?"
There was a humming in Sam's ears, and as he tried to sit up, he found his body unresponsive. While the concept of the thought was terrifying, Sam was in a state of calm, with little caring. He felt fine, yet, he knew he should feel, scared, pain... something! But nothing... just a clear head.
Sam wasn't sure how long he'd stayed in the strange state. Upon regaining movement, Sam opened his eyes, and was greeted with an unfamiliar surronding, and a distant voice calling his name. It sounded muffled, as if it were through a wall...
"Dean? Is that you?"
"Hey! Yeah, it's me.." Dean instantly was reignited with new vigor athe sound of his brother's familiar voice. He didn't even consider the possibility it was a trick as he looked around the room, looking for some sort of door. No doors... There was a pile of boxes in the corner. A bit large, but not obnoxiously so. A window! Just the one. He went over to it, but it appeared someone had painted it completely white on the other side, and no viewable claps to open it. supremely unhelpful. He slammed his fist against the glass in frustration.
"Sammy, keep talking to me. You still hear me? What are you seeng?"
Sam blinked a few times, scrunching his eyes.
"Its dim in here," he says, as his eyes adjust, Sam can feel a scowl form on his face, "Dude, it looks like a little kids room..."
As Sam eyes the room with confusion and distaste, he notices that the room is catered to his size... or almost. Everything is just slightly too big.
"Well it beats being sealed in.. I'm gonna have to hulk through the wall at this rate." Dean grumbled, pacing over to where he thought Sam's voice was coming from. It was hard to tell. He paused. "Any doors or windows in there?"
"There's a door," started Sam, walking towards it, "but... I can't reach the handle..."
"There's gotta be something you can use. I've got a couple boxes on my end..." He trailed off as he walked over to the mentioned boxes and looked inside. There was a little plastic dollhouse in the first one. Useless, and reminded him of how he could probably have for into that not even half an hour ago. He shoved it aside and opened the next, praying for a shot gun.
Sam was about to ask Dean if Cas was with him when he heard a strange noise. It was loud, but muffled. Sam couldnt place the noise with any memories... Though, it sounded like it had came from above him.
As Dean spoke, his voice became more clear, less muffled, as if a layer of wall and been peeled off.
"Dean?" Called Sam. "What did you just do?"
Dean raised his head and looked around. At this point in the trickster's mind games, he was half-expecting to see the walls melt away by a hidden trigger word or something. But nothing had changed.
"Just opened up the first two boxes. Nothing but a couple of cheap toys and packing peanuts so far." He nudged the offending box with the toe of his boot.
He bent down, picking up the light box of foam packing material easily and starting on the next. Then the faint concern in Sam's voice fully sank in. Something could be unfolding with Sammy and he couldn't do a thing to prevent it. "Why? What happened?" Dean demanded.
"You didn't hear that?" asked Sam, more of a statement than a question, as he dragged a chair towards the door. "..Any idea what happened to Cas?"
"No sign of him. Once we figure out where the hell you and I are, we'll find him, Sammy."
Dean sighed; The third box had a hammer... A little plastic one with a picture of bob the builder on it.
"Dick move." He rolled his eyes towards the heavens, or wherever Gabriel was peeping from. Dean bumped a couple boxes a few inches out of the way with the toe of his boot and ran a hand down his face wearily. This was a friggin nightmare.
Turned out there was a whole toolkit along with the hammer- all plastic, dull, and infuriatingly cheerful-looking. No help getting out of the doorless room. The hope that there might be an end to these freaky trials, or at least a point to them, seemed further than ever. Dean sat down amidst the boxes and slid down to lean against the wall. His body and mind were exhausted, but the drive to protect his little brother kept him alert.
Heaving himself up onto the slightly-too-big chair, Sam was just about able to reach the handle. As Sam grabbed the handle, the noise came back, accompanied with his world shaking slightly. Steadying himself on the chair Sam reached for the handle again. It wouldn't budge.
"Did you feel that?" asked Sam, surprised his brother hadn't reacted to the mini earthquake.
"Sam, I dunno where the heck Gabe stashed you, but there's nothing going on over here. Zilch." he caught a glimpse of the dollhouse next to him and angrily shoved the box away from him. It bumped into the other boxes of useless crap a few feet away.
Sam yelped as his world seemed to shift. He tumbled off the chair, landing awkwardly on his side.
"What the hell was that?!" Shouted Sam, as he attempted to stand. He moved slowly, unsure if he would face another mini earthquake.
Dean raised his head. Sam's voice had just moved. To the right, now. Dread pooled as his eyes landed on the box he had shoved around.
Did you feel that? Sam's words echoed in his mind. That head been after he had nudged the box with his shoe. And now... Swallowing, Dean crawled over to first box and looked down at the little plastic roof.
"Uh... What type of room did you say you were in?"
Deans voice seemed closer now, and Sam hoped that his brother had figured something out, as he was still confused.
"It's... well it's like a little kids room," started Sam, not sure what his brother wanted him to say. "Pretty dark, too..."
Dean practically winced. From the sound of the voice coming back at him, he was in the right spot. Sam wasn't far away; he was just really small... Again.
"Yeah I bet..." Dean muttered under his breath. "Hang on, Sammy."
He steeled his nerves and slid his hands under the doll house on each side. He picked it up, feeling every quiver of its weight until he set it on the ground. He pushed the boxes aside to make room for him to lie down on his stomach facing the front of the plastic playhouse. Taking note of the scale of the little pink front door... only about three and a half inches. If Sam couldn't reach the doorknob... A chill ran down Dean's spin as he mentally pictured how miniscule Sam must be. He wasn't sure he could handle this.
He wedged a fingernail under a window shutter on the second floor. One by one, he opened all the windows and waited for a sound from Sam.
Light bleed into the room. So there was a window? Sam blinked until his vision started to clear up. The room looked... wrong. It wasn't the fact that everything was big... nor was it the fact that the entire room seemed to be decorated with a moose theme...
He couldn't quite identify the problem... everything looked odd. Out of place... almost as if everything was a replica of the real thing. As Sam moved towards the window, he dragged a chair along with him. It was surprisingly light considering its size.
"Dean?" Called Sam, as he stepped onto the chair in order to see out of the window. "What's going on?"
An absolutely miniscule head of head popped up over the edge of the window, on the second floor. He rested his chin on his arms, holding his breath. Dean's mouth went dry when more of Sam came into view. A massive green eye blinked and dilated in front of the window.
"Son of a bitch.." Dean breathed.
"Fuck," breathed Sam, taking a step back. Instinct clicked. He'd been small before, but this? No. Not happening. This can't be happening. Another step back sent Sam tumbling off the chair.