Chapter 1- Hey, Sammy

"Dean. Where did you go?" Lizzie darted around another corner of the twisting bunker halls. He couldn't possibly have gone far with those crutches, not when he kept falling with them.

It was the sound of an exasperated curse that allowed her to pinpoint his location. The door of one of the many storage rooms hung open, and Dean was splayed on the floor inside, crutches skittered across the floor and out of his reach.

"Sonovabitch! Dude, this sucks." He grumbled when he noticed Lizzie had found him. She giggled at the thought of the elite hunter being helpless on the floor, and hauled him back up on his feet, seemingly without effort.

"You need to go slower, there, Deano," She said as she handed him the crutches. "You'll end up making that ankle even worse, and as far as I can tell, you aren't exactly a fan of these things."

Dean took them gingerly. "I'm not sure how much more of this crap I can take. On top of which, we aren't working any cases, and people could be dying as we speak."

"You're not the only hunter in the world, and I'm sure that the world's not gonna end before you're all healed up. It's only three more weeks."

"Hey, you're not the one who's tripping over their own feet here. This is friggin' killing me, man." He rolled his eyes as he hobbled over to a table crammed between racks of file boxes and Men of Letters paraphernalia. He managed to wrestle a chair into a position that he could easily use it, and plunked down at the table in front of a stack of dusty charmed boxes. "Anyway, I guess I may as well sort some of this crap and be some sort of useful. Hey, Lizz, are you gonna go on a grocery run today? Don't forget the pie."

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Like you'd let me back in the bunker without pie, Dean. Be back in thirty." She grabbed him another stack of boxed weapons, and closed the door of the storeroom behind her, muttering for him to be careful while she was out.

Barely ten minutes had passed by the time Dean had dozed off, his head propped up on an open hand, elbow firmly planted onto the table. He stirred to the sound of a door being slammed shut from somewhere inside the compound. Figuring it must be Lizzie, he merely rubbed his eyes and went back to sleep.

"Jesus, Dean?" A voice sounded in the back of Dean's mind, and he slowly realized someone was prodding him awake. He opened his eyes sleepily to find a pair of concerned hazel ones staring back at him. "Hey, man. What the hell happened to you?"

Dean jolted awake, a wave of adrenaline coursing through him. "Sammy? I was wondering when you'd come back, little brother. Where's Cas?"

Sam shrugged. "He said he heard a noise. I said he was being paranoid, but he wandered off anyway." One of the crutches that had been leaning precariously against the table started to slide, and Sam caught it and chuckled. "Anyway, how did you get all gibbled?"

Dean shook his head. "Dude, it sounds lame, but I got hit by a truck."

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. "So you were drunk and not looking where you were going... ?"

He chuckled. "I wish. When I say I got hit by a truck, I mean I got one chucked at me. Damn lucky, too. If that thing had slid another few inches, it would've been way worse. But don't worry, we gutted that demon before it could get away."

Sam's eyebrows hitched higher. "We?"

There was suddenly a loud crash from down the hall.

End Chapter 1