The first thing thoughts that came to Supernatural's mind when he opened his eyes were; why the fuck is it so bright, and how much did I drink last night?

He sat up and immediately regretted the action, the world around him spun violently and he had to close his eyes lest he threw up. He groaned and winced as a peculiar sensation at the base his throat made itself known. It hurt. A lot. As if someone had recently punched him in the windpipe. Did I die again? He thought as he tried to remember the last twenty four hours. Resurrection always left a fog over recent memories, the mind somewhat scrambled from having to process both the death and 'rebirth' of the mind and body.

He rubbed at the tender part of his neck as he took in his surroundings. He was inside the impala, his impala. It's familiar worn leather seats and beige interior gave him a sense of comfort nothing else could. The updated radio, a personally upgraded model made out of a walkman that enabled him to chat with his friends via pesterchum, stood out from the classic interior. That mixed with the vague smell of gunpowder mixed and leather, reminded him of his current predicament. Trapped in my own world, he thought to himself as miserably stared up at the beige roof, trapped with Homestuck.

His eyes widened as he his memories came rushing back. Hannibal as they emerged from a thick black smog that stung Supernatural's throat and choked him as he tried to call for help; to scream. An old warehouse filled with fake satanists 'summoning' a spirit with fake blood and made up symbols, and their screams of terror as they ran; nearly trampling each other in their panic. Hannibal's guttural laugh and feel of cold steel when Supernatural struggled too much. The smell of blood as Hannibal cut their own arm and smeared the blood across Supernatural's mouth; the only way to turn the fandom trickster. The way the world tunneled and then exploded as he turned. Then the muddled memories of actually being trickster came to him. The awful things he said and did to those around him, Sam, Dean, Homestuck. The compulsions to hit, to kill, he shuddered at the memory. He thought about how he could possibly make it up to them; nearly getting lost in his own head.

He shook his head as he came back to himself; What the hell do I do now? He sighed and sat in silence as he took in the inconsequential details around him.

The sun was high in the sky, which meant it was near noon. His impala was dusty, not overly so, but enough to be noticeable. Outside he could hear the wind rustle the grass and the leaves of the nearby trees, as well as the occasional chirping of grasshoppers; all of which was muffled by the closed windows. The car was a bit too warm, but Supernatural found that the smell of the warm leather was calming. He sighed and breathed for a few moments of well deserved peace, He sat up and heaved a sigh as he opened the car door.

The first thing he saw was the Winchester's impala parked a few feet away. The brothers were in the front, while Homestuck was, for some reason, on the ground outside. All of them seemed to have fallen asleep.

Supernatural walked up to his friend's prone body first. Homestuck had dried blood in his shirt, some of it yellow but most seemed to be normal, albeit dried, human red.

The slight breeze made his jet black hair flutter back and, if this had been any other time, Supernatural would have let him sleep peacefully; Chuck only knows he deserves it. Instead, Supernatural sighed as he kneeled down and shook the other fandom awake. His friend woke with a start and between one blink and the next he had teleported ten feet away. He was breathing heavily as he hunched over.

"Jegus man," Homestuck said after he had regained his breath. He stood upright and crossed his arms, "you know damn well not to do that shit."

"How long was I out," Supernatural demanded instead of acknowledging his friend's comment. He strode towards Homestuck and stood a few feet opposite him, "I know what bag of absolute dicks did this to me, and who's been preventin' us from using the transport system to get back home."

"Oh?" Homestuck asked as he raised his eyebrows, "my memories usually come back in a few hours, impressive Winnie. So, who is it?"

"Hannibal the mother fucking cannibal," Supernatural spat.

"Oh fuck," the horned fandom said. In the next second his giant paintbrush was out and set to 'attack'. The multiple iridescent blades shone in the sunlight as they reflected otherworldly purples and blues. He eyed the surrounding area suspiciously.

"I don't think they're around right now," Supernatural said even as he looked around as well, "but I do think they'll try again. I can't even begin to imagine what their reason for all this is, though." He gestured at their general surroundings.

"Loneliness?" Homestuck suggested, "their series was just cancelled."

"Maybe," Supernatural said quietly. He glanced behind him at the Winchester's car; the two brother's were still blissfully asleep. He turned back towards his friend, "We should probably wake them up, huh?"

"In a second," Homestuck seemed to hesitate. He stabbed his paintbrush into the ground; deep enough so that it stood unaided.

"You ok, man?" Supernatural questioned. He stepped closer only to be tackled by the horned fandom.

He was wrapped in a tight hug that, quite literally, lifted him off the ground. He was about to protest when he felt the wetness seep into his collar.

Oh shit, thought the bewildered fandom, he's crying. What do I do? He awkwardly pat his fellow fandom's back. When the only response he got was Homestuck tightening his grip Supernatural just held his friend back. A few moments passed before Homestuck let go; both fandoms returning to the ground.

"I-I'm sorry," Homestuck said as he wiped his yellow-tinted tears. He stopped when Supernatural held up his hand in a gesture that told him to wait.

"No, I'm sorry," Supernatural sighed, "We shouldn't have come here."

"No! I mean it's be fun. Y'know, saving people, hunting things," He flashed Supernatural a watery smile, "it's been a great time, all things considered."

"Guess it has, huh?" Supernatural scratched the back of his neck, "next time we should just go to Canada or something. I'm sure Hetalia would like that."

Homestuck barked out a laugh, "as if he'd have the patience."

The two friends shared a smile. A bird shrieked, causing both fandoms to look up; the moment between the two was interrupted. Both frowned and turned to face the impala. They stood closely together.

Homestuck plucked his brush back out of the dirt and slung it over his shoulder like a rifle; the dark strap looked rather worn from the multiple times he had done this. He smiled cheekily as Supernatural, "ready to go, Winnie?"

"Always, Homes," he answered. They shared a fist bump and made their way back towards the Winchester's and, hopefully, home.

Homestuck reached the car first. He rapped on the passenger side window and grinned devilishly as the brothers jolted awake. He waved cheerfully and gestured for them to come out. The fandom could hear the muffled complaints from both Dean and Sam, mostly Dean, as they slowly woke up. He turned and shot a thumbs up to Supernatural, who had stopped a few feet away from the car. When he looked back he saw Dean's wide eyes regarding the winged fandom with nothing short of amazement.

One step closer to being caught up! OK, so schools on break and that means more time to write! PLease let me know what you thought of this chapter and have a good day/week c: c: