Hello! Got this one posted a lot earlier than the last few prompts haha! I have the week off from torture (aka work) and it's been glorious so far. had a lot of fun with this prompt. Hope you'll all enjoy!

No. 27: OKAY, WHO HAD NATURAL DISASTER ON THEIR 2020 BINGO CARD?

prompt options: Earthquake, Extreme Weather, Power Outages

"Whose bright idea was this, anyway?" Dean shouted above the wind.

"You really want to go down that path right now?" Sam shouted back, struggling to nail the tarp down as it snapped in the wind gusts.

"I'm just saying that the ghost hadn't disturbed anyone for a century -"

"Other than the family it slaughtered last week," Sam interjected.

His comment shut Dean up for all of thirty seconds.

"Yes, other than them," Dean grumbled, fighting to secure the other edge of the tarp. "And yet...we probably could have waited until after the damn hurricane to come all the way out here and roast him. Which brings me straight back to whose bright idea was this, anyway?"

"It was yours," Sam snapped as a blast of wind and rain hit him in the face.

"You found the case." Dean dropped to a crouch, scrambling to pick up the nails he'd just dropped.

"I did, but you were the one who said we'd be able to hike all the way here, toast the ghost, and then make it all the way back to town before the first drop of rain fell." Sam grabbed the porch railing as another blast of wind nearly knocked him off his feet. "Those were your exact words, Dean. Before the first drop of rain fell."

Dean glared up at him, his hair plastered to his face from the downpour. He pushed himself to his feet and finished nailing down the other edge of the tarp. Honestly, it had been a complete waste of time. The flimsy tarp would do very little to give them any shelter within the interior of the half crumbled mansion.

"Let's just get inside," Sam said, turning to the door.

Once they were both inside, they worked together to shove the heavy old door closed. It miraculously latched but they shoved a heavy desk in front of it anyway. Rain was still gusting in from the broken side windows, but tarping over the front windows helped a little. Together they stood, surveying the room.

The mansion had once been absolutely stunning. The evidence was still very much visible despite the years of decay and damage. It had been large and grand, but half of the mansion had burned down at some point, leaving the remaining half barely standing. They'd surveyed the grounds and the upper floor during the search for the vengeful spirit.

Sam stared upwards and gritted his teeth. The upper floor had been so rickety and dangerous they'd abandoned their search almost immediately. It wasn't safe to go upstairs, but it didn't seem much safer below. For one thing, flooding could become a very severe issue depending on how the storm progressed. For another thing, the upstairs seemed concerningly likely to join them on the first floor at any moment.

"I'm not sure if this place will flood first or collapse first," Dean muttered, wiping his face with the inside of his jacket.

They both put a hand to the desk as the mansion shook from a particularly strong gust.

"Maybe we should try walking back to town," Sam said as the walls shuddered again and the broken remains of the once grand chandelier rattled above them.

"You were the one who said it was too late and we should just secure things here and ride the storm out."

It was the truth.

He'd argued against coming out here in the first place because the weather report had been very clear that this was not a storm to take lightly. But they'd driven for two days to get here and Dean had been itching to deal with the ghost so here they were. They'd dealt with the remains and had been packing up when the storm started. Debating what to do, Dean had been ready to hike back the ten miles back to town. It would have required a ten mile hike through marshy lowlands that had been challenging to navigate before the rain so Sam had voted to stay put.

Maybe Dean had been right.

Dean sighed and said, "You were right. We would never have made it back to town. If the flooding gets as bad as I think it might, we would be stuck out there somewhere in a tree."

Sam laughed. "In a tree?"

"Yep. Like a couple of stranded cats." He brushed a hand through his hair, gaze roving the room. "Alright. Time to find a place to get cozy."

"There was a pantry toward the back of the house," Sam suggested, gathering their gear. "The kitchen windows are all gone, but the pantry has a door."

Dean grabbed the other bag and nodded. "Sounds like a first class suite."

Sam snorted, but led the way back to the pantry. The house faced the storm so the pantry being in the back of the house was a good bet. It was small and windowless and hopefully more secure than some of the rest of the house.

All they could do was cross their fingers at this point.

They shoved some debris out of the pantry, then piled their gear inside. Closing the door, Dean dropped the last bag in front of the door. Sam set the little battery lantern in the middle of the room and took stock of their supplies. They had plenty of matches, a few random candles, two flashlights, and some extra batteries. They'd packed sandwiches and an assortment of snacks. A few bottles of water. Not a bad stash to weather a storm for a few hours.

As long as the place doesn't flood or fall down, this might not be so bad.

Dean peeled off his dripping wet coat and dropped it on the bag in front of the door. The day had been muggy but the rain had been cold. Now, though, in this stifling little space, Sam was warming up quickly. He pulled off his coat, too.

The house shook and something above them somewhere creaked ominously. They both looked upward as if they could see what might be about to fall on their heads. The wind was screaming outside.

"This is going to be fun," Dean said, shaking his head, eyes wide in the dim lighting. "We've never weathered a hurricane before."

"Not what I'd call fun." Sam took a seat, back to the wall.

Dean rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to him. "Well, we know your definition of fun isn't normal."

"So sitting in a hot little closet waiting to see if the house is going to collapse around us is fun?"

"No, actually, it's not." Dean huffed a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. "I made a bad call. We should have waited to do this until after the storm."

They definitely should have, but Sam didn't comment. If Dean was acknowledging he'd made a mistake, there was no reason to rub his nose in it. They'd both made plenty of mistakes over the years, but this was certainly a new one.

"Sam." The annoying voice was accompanied by an equally annoying hand. "Sam, wake up."

Slapping his brother's hand away, Sam said, "Leave me alone. I just got comfortable."

"I can guarantee you won't be comfortable long." Dean's tone was an odd mixture of humor and concern. "We've got a problem."

The hot little room was cramped and had nothing in the way of creature comforts, but Sam had finally fallen asleep pressed between his brother and the wall. It had been a long week, a long walk, and Dean's shoulder had been right there so he'd taken advantage of it. Sleeping also alleviated the boredom that came from being stuck in a closet while a hurricane raged outside.

"What's wrong?" Sam groaned, sitting up a bit straighter and rubbing his neck.

"That."

Dean aimed the flashlight at the door. He'd moved the bag of gear away from the door and - if the floor hadn't sagged downhill toward the door - they would have already been sitting in two inches of water.

"Crap." Sam scrambled to his feet, fully awake now. He pulled their other bags away from the door.

"Exactly." Dean was stuffing their jackets into the backpack. "We're going to get wet."

Sam shone the other flashlight around the room, weighing options. A fresh wave of water flooded in around the door and they were suddenly ankle deep in shockingly cold water.

"We can't stay here."

"No shit." Dean slung a bag over his shoulder. "We're going to have to go up."

It wasn't a good option, but it was the only one they had. By the time they had everything gathered up, they were knee deep in water. Sam braced himself as Dean opened the door.

The rush of water had them both stumbling backwards. Dean cursed and struggled forward. It was a miracle they hadn't been flooded before now. They stepped out of the closet - water to their thighs - and surveyed the scene. The house was completely flooded, rain still pouring outside. The walls were shuddering under the force of the gale winds.

"This isn't just the rain," Dean shouted to be heard over the din, cautiously stepping out into the mess.

"Storm surge."

"We're so screwed, aren't we?"

Sam nodded. "Pretty much."

"Upstairs."

"Our best chance," Sam shouted back.

Dean nodded and put a hand to the wall as he moved forward. The house was dark except for the vivid flashes of lightning, but they'd pocketed the flashlights to keep their hands free. It had been the right choice because every step was a challenge.

The floor had already been rotted and broken in spots. Dean's foot had gone through a spot when they'd first arrived. Now they couldn't even see what was under their feet and were battling a frighteningly strong current.

Knowing what a hurricane was like was nothing compared to actually experiencing one first hand.

A fresh wave of water rushed at them as they stepped into the hallway leading upstairs. Dean stumbled backwards against the waist deep onslaught and Sam almost caught him before he fell, but wasn't quite fast enough.

Going down hard, Dean disappeared under the water.

The wind, water, and darkness were disorienting, but Sam caught his brother's left arm as he was tossed and tumbled under the water.

Dean came up coughing and gasping. He struggled to his feet with Sam's help and together they started moving forward again. As they waded through the water, Dean had one hand out against the wall and the other cradled close to his chest.

"Are you ok?" Sam shouted, nodding toward Dean's arm.

"Wrist took the brunt of the fall," Dean answered, putting his shoulder against a door jamb.

"Broken?"

"I don't know."

The main living space was a swirling cauldron of wild water. They had to get through it to get to the stairs.

"It's just like crossing a river," Dean said, nodding at the mess in front of them.

Sam nodded, adjusting the pack on his back.

"Ready?" Dean asked, glancing at him, then back to the mess ahead.

"Let's go."

They braced themselves, stepping forward into the open water. Despite the wildness of the waters and Dean's injury, they made it to the base of the stairs without further incident. Cautiously going up the stairs, they both breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the landing.

The upstairs was far more decrepit and the wind and rain were blowing fiercely through the many missing windows. Their earlier assessment of the upstairs had shown that there wasn't much left of any of the rooms. No secure place to go. There wasn't even much of the roof left.

"We might as well just sit here." Sam set one of the bags down. "I barely trust the stairs to hold us up. I definitely don't trust the floor up here."

"This is great," Dean shouted, motioning around with his good hand. "Bit drafty but great view."

Sam laughed despite the perilous situation. They piled the gear on the landing and took a seat side by side on the top step. Dean started digging through the pack for their jackets and Sam took over when Dean bit back a curse after jarring his wrist. Once they'd struggled into their jackets, Sam motioned to Dean's hand.

"Let me see your wrist."

Dean grumbled under his breath, but allowed Sam's examination.

"Might be sprained, but I don't think anything's broken," Sam said, finding an ace wrap in the bottom of the gear.

"Maybe we should try to get out of here during the eye of the storm."

Sam shot his brother a disbelieving look as he wrapped his wrist. "Are you planning to swim ten miles back to town?"

"Shut up," Dean grumbled, shrinking into his coat a little deeper; not that it provided much protection against the elements.

"That's what I thought." Sam smiled, finishing up. "We're going to be stuck here awhile. Till the water goes down, which could take days, or we get lucky and a search party with a boat or a helicopter finds us."

"I'm waiting for a boat."

Sam laughed.

They settled as comfortably as possible against each other, not that there was much warmth to be had.

"We're never taking a hunt in Louisiana during hurricane season ever again," Dean said as they stared down at the rising water.

"Deal."

The rest of the night, they took turns cat napping while the other monitored the rising water. They didn't wind up swimming and the house didn't wind up collapsing. The storm finally ended and the sun came out.

What followed after that was almost ten and a half hours stranded at the top of a staircase with nowhere to go and nothing to do except get on each other's nerves. By the time a Coast Guard rescue boat found them, they'd argued themselves hoarse over everything and nothing and weren't speaking to each other.

They spent the next week fighting over boxes of kleenex and decongestants, holed up in a motel recovering from the colds they'd developed.

And they never, never, ever took another hunt in Louisiana during hurricane season.

hope this was a fun read!

tomorrow's theme/prompts: No. 28: SUCH WOW. MANY NORMAL. VERY OOPS. Accidents, Hunting Season, Mugged