What else could go wrong (SPN, Gen, PG)
This is all Rinne's fault! She made me do it by writing shirtless Sammy fic over gtalk (which I agreed to remix as crack at a later date *facepalms*). *points at rinkle* Her fault! Oh and it's also past midnight.
Title: What else could go wrong
Author: starrylizard
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: Gen, PG
Wordcount: 436
Summary: A little fic designed to get Dean's shirt off, because rinkle wanted it.
Dean pulled Sam back by his shirt as another fork flew through the air. “It’s not working, Sam!”
“I can see that!” Sam gave Dean a frustrated look.
The old house shook; shelves and cupboards rattling all around them and then crashing to the floor as ectoplasm started seeping out of the walls, a thin spray hitting Dean as it spurted from a particularly small gap.
“Oh, now that’s just gross!” Dean stamped a foot, holding his shirt out from him in disgust, before pulling it off altogether and flinging it to the floor. “That was my favourite shirt too.”
“Dean, would you stop whining and help me?” Sam was trying to open the kitchen door, running into it with his shoulder, but the damn thing seemed to be far more solid than the rest of the house.
“Get out of the way Sammy!” Sam stepped back and Dean raised the rifle, taking aim at the door handle. Two shots and the lock busted open. “Come on, let’s go!”
Both men made for the door, Sam almost losing his balance in a puddle of ectoplasm and letting out a yelp as he felt a muscle pull, but they kept moving. Sam limped toward the front door and pulled it open as Dean tossed around some lighter fluid and dropped a match.
Then they heard a scream. “Shit, someone’s still in here.” Dean looked up the staircase, the flames already leaping their way toward it. Sam was already limp-hopping toward them. “Sam, stay here. I’ll be faster.” Sam nodded his reluctant agreement and Dean set off at a run.
By the time he reached the top of the stairs, the smoke was thick enough to be choking him and it was getting hard to see.
“Hello! Yell if there’s anyone up here?” Dean pulled off his t-shirt, damping it down with the holy water from his back pocket and tied it round his face, as he started hacking against the smoke.
“Help!” A small girl’s voice came from his right.
A few minutes later, Dean emerged after finding the ghost of a small girl hanging out in the upstairs bedroom. No one he could save. Already dead. He cursed his crappy luck, standing outside the burning house, watching it go up in flames, shirtless, covered in dirt, soot and slime, with his baby brother using him as a crutch.
“Simple haunting my ass! I’m gonna kill Bobby! I mean, what else could possibly go wrong? Seriously?”
“You shouldn’t say that, Dean!” Sam chuckled, leaning more heavily on his brother as thunder cracked and it began to rain.
Title: What else could go wrong
Author: starrylizard
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: Gen, PG
Wordcount: 436
Summary: A little fic designed to get Dean's shirt off, because rinkle wanted it.
Dean pulled Sam back by his shirt as another fork flew through the air. “It’s not working, Sam!”
“I can see that!” Sam gave Dean a frustrated look.
The old house shook; shelves and cupboards rattling all around them and then crashing to the floor as ectoplasm started seeping out of the walls, a thin spray hitting Dean as it spurted from a particularly small gap.
“Oh, now that’s just gross!” Dean stamped a foot, holding his shirt out from him in disgust, before pulling it off altogether and flinging it to the floor. “That was my favourite shirt too.”
“Dean, would you stop whining and help me?” Sam was trying to open the kitchen door, running into it with his shoulder, but the damn thing seemed to be far more solid than the rest of the house.
“Get out of the way Sammy!” Sam stepped back and Dean raised the rifle, taking aim at the door handle. Two shots and the lock busted open. “Come on, let’s go!”
Both men made for the door, Sam almost losing his balance in a puddle of ectoplasm and letting out a yelp as he felt a muscle pull, but they kept moving. Sam limped toward the front door and pulled it open as Dean tossed around some lighter fluid and dropped a match.
Then they heard a scream. “Shit, someone’s still in here.” Dean looked up the staircase, the flames already leaping their way toward it. Sam was already limp-hopping toward them. “Sam, stay here. I’ll be faster.” Sam nodded his reluctant agreement and Dean set off at a run.
By the time he reached the top of the stairs, the smoke was thick enough to be choking him and it was getting hard to see.
“Hello! Yell if there’s anyone up here?” Dean pulled off his t-shirt, damping it down with the holy water from his back pocket and tied it round his face, as he started hacking against the smoke.
“Help!” A small girl’s voice came from his right.
A few minutes later, Dean emerged after finding the ghost of a small girl hanging out in the upstairs bedroom. No one he could save. Already dead. He cursed his crappy luck, standing outside the burning house, watching it go up in flames, shirtless, covered in dirt, soot and slime, with his baby brother using him as a crutch.
“Simple haunting my ass! I’m gonna kill Bobby! I mean, what else could possibly go wrong? Seriously?”
“You shouldn’t say that, Dean!” Sam chuckled, leaning more heavily on his brother as thunder cracked and it began to rain.