Icon-Fic
For: mercuryblue144, with this icon.
Sam and Dean roamed the empty hallways of the abandoned Catholic school, creeping slowly with guns high, ready for anything to jump out from around corners or out of a classroom. They sought out the one and only Sister Mary Elizabeth, the head nun who’d been tied to the school for decades while alive, and apparently also in death since the school had been shut down.
As they neared another intersection of hallways, they both heard footsteps and hushes of noise. So Sam slunk against one wall while Dean took the other and then nodded, mentally counting to three before jumping around and aiming at the … offenders.
“Winchester douchenozzles,” Ed Zedmore sighed, not even caring he had Dean’s shot gun trained on his forehead.
Harry Spangler, on the other hand, whimpered under the sight of Sam’s gun leveled at his face. “Hi,” he squeaked with a meager wave.
Sam sighed, lowering his weapon. “You gotta be kidding me.”
Just for fun, Dean kept his shotgun up and smirked. “Just one more second, could’ve taken care of you two.”
Harry slipped forward, tugging Ed with him. “Um, you really don’t have to shoot, right?”
“What are you guys doing here?” Sam asked on a sigh.
“Uh, ghost hunting,” Ed replied with a ‘duh’ in his tone. “What’re you dirtbags doing?”
Dean smirked, raising the barrel up to Ed’s head again. “Real hunting.”
“You guys know there’s something seriously dangerous here, right?” Sam asked. “It’s not just fun and games and TV shows.”
“Yeah, we got it,” Ed said, all cocky and smug smile. “And we got Sister Mary Edna on film.” Here, he waved his handheld camera and smirked at Harry, who nodded right back.
“Elizabeth,” Sam corrected.
“Whatever,” he shrugged and moved to slip past the brothers. “If you don’t mind, we have a ghost to film.”
Dean pushed his palm into Ed’s chest. “You bozos aren’t going anywhere but out.”
“Dean,” Sam gritted between his teeth.
He looked up and sighed, not even wanting to have this discussion, but he moved aside with Sam to have at it. “Sammy, don’t even start. We’re not babysitting these clowns.”
Sam pursed his lips. “Not what I’m saying. But, Dean, we can’t just let them go. They’re gonna get themselves killed.”
“I’m pretty okay with that.”
He had the same pursed lips and stared down his brother, waiting for him to relent.
They stared even longer, for many lengthy moments, Dean giving a flat, defiant look, even raising his chin up to his brother. Sam just kept the pissy, impatient face and glared right back. Dean finally raised his hands and sighed. “Alright, alright. We’ll watch the Hardy Boys.” Dean turned back around, saying, “Alright, let’s get this slumber party on the go,” to an empty hallway because Harry and Ed were gone. He shrugged back at Sam, “Left on their own.” Then he smirked, “That was easy enough.”
“Dean.”
“What?” he shrugged back.
“We have to find them.”
“What’s the worst that could happen? They find the front door?”
And that’s when there was a distinctive high pitched scream, one they knew had to be Ed, followed by a lower shout of surprise from Harry. “That’s what could happen.”
Sam glared at Dean, prompting him to sigh. “Alright, fine! Let’s go rescue the douchebags.” As they ran down the hallways in search of the noises, Dean grumbled, “I promise you when we’re done saving them, I’m shooting them in the face.”
Sam and Dean roamed the empty hallways of the abandoned Catholic school, creeping slowly with guns high, ready for anything to jump out from around corners or out of a classroom. They sought out the one and only Sister Mary Elizabeth, the head nun who’d been tied to the school for decades while alive, and apparently also in death since the school had been shut down.
As they neared another intersection of hallways, they both heard footsteps and hushes of noise. So Sam slunk against one wall while Dean took the other and then nodded, mentally counting to three before jumping around and aiming at the … offenders.
“Winchester douchenozzles,” Ed Zedmore sighed, not even caring he had Dean’s shot gun trained on his forehead.
Harry Spangler, on the other hand, whimpered under the sight of Sam’s gun leveled at his face. “Hi,” he squeaked with a meager wave.
Sam sighed, lowering his weapon. “You gotta be kidding me.”
Just for fun, Dean kept his shotgun up and smirked. “Just one more second, could’ve taken care of you two.”
Harry slipped forward, tugging Ed with him. “Um, you really don’t have to shoot, right?”
“What are you guys doing here?” Sam asked on a sigh.
“Uh, ghost hunting,” Ed replied with a ‘duh’ in his tone. “What’re you dirtbags doing?”
Dean smirked, raising the barrel up to Ed’s head again. “Real hunting.”
“You guys know there’s something seriously dangerous here, right?” Sam asked. “It’s not just fun and games and TV shows.”
“Yeah, we got it,” Ed said, all cocky and smug smile. “And we got Sister Mary Edna on film.” Here, he waved his handheld camera and smirked at Harry, who nodded right back.
“Elizabeth,” Sam corrected.
“Whatever,” he shrugged and moved to slip past the brothers. “If you don’t mind, we have a ghost to film.”
Dean pushed his palm into Ed’s chest. “You bozos aren’t going anywhere but out.”
“Dean,” Sam gritted between his teeth.
He looked up and sighed, not even wanting to have this discussion, but he moved aside with Sam to have at it. “Sammy, don’t even start. We’re not babysitting these clowns.”
Sam pursed his lips. “Not what I’m saying. But, Dean, we can’t just let them go. They’re gonna get themselves killed.”
“I’m pretty okay with that.”
He had the same pursed lips and stared down his brother, waiting for him to relent.
They stared even longer, for many lengthy moments, Dean giving a flat, defiant look, even raising his chin up to his brother. Sam just kept the pissy, impatient face and glared right back. Dean finally raised his hands and sighed. “Alright, alright. We’ll watch the Hardy Boys.” Dean turned back around, saying, “Alright, let’s get this slumber party on the go,” to an empty hallway because Harry and Ed were gone. He shrugged back at Sam, “Left on their own.” Then he smirked, “That was easy enough.”
“Dean.”
“What?” he shrugged back.
“We have to find them.”
“What’s the worst that could happen? They find the front door?”
And that’s when there was a distinctive high pitched scream, one they knew had to be Ed, followed by a lower shout of surprise from Harry. “That’s what could happen.”
Sam glared at Dean, prompting him to sigh. “Alright, fine! Let’s go rescue the douchebags.” As they ran down the hallways in search of the noises, Dean grumbled, “I promise you when we’re done saving them, I’m shooting them in the face.”