Dean let out a curse as an ear-splitting bang rang out, followed by the entire bunker shaking violently around him.
"A frigging earthquake is all I needed to make my day," he bitched.
But Dean's earthquake theory was quickly debunked as his brother emerged stumbling from the corridor, his face and body tinged completely with black.
:
"Uh, " the younger Winchester uttered shakily as he steadied himself against the doorpost. "Sorry, Dean. A spell gone wrong."
A couple of paces brought Dean to his sibling's side, quickly shoring him up and helping him into a nearby chair.
"That does it, Sam!" Dean declared angrily. "You're officially grounded as far as magic is concerned. I'm confiscating Rowena's book before you do any more damage. I've put up with the foul-smelling crap you've been growing for spells, and the weird ingredients you've been collecting, but I draw the line at provoking earthquakes."
Sam gazed up at Dean. He tried for a combined puppy-eyed stare and dimpled smile but Dean was having none of it. His idiot little brother could've killed himself this time around trying to master such dangerous stuff.
"Not gonna work, dude. No more magic for a month, Sam. Instead, we are going to take time off and go enjoy ourselves. Live a little. No spells, no monsters, no hunting, just you, me, and Baby."
Now that Dean could see that his brother was unharmed, he gave a chuckle and whipped out his phone. "You look friggin' gross, Sammy. This needs to be immortalized for posterity. My brother the witchy smoke monster!"