Prompt: Imagine person A getting into a McDonald's play set even though they're too big for it. When inside, they find person B. Bonus if person C is inside the play set as well and they're all trapped.

The McDonald's obviously hadn't been renovated since the early nineties. Puke-cream wall paper was peeling in the corners, the grout on the tile was seven different shades of brown, and the colors had faded from their once cheery bright monstrosities.

Dean did not want to get near that play set.

He eyed the weird purple statue and skirted around it, flitting his flashlight away from the giant eyes. They should probably just torch the whole place, honestly. The whole building was probably cursed or something.

He turned back around to see the eyes watching him. Hmm. Maybe he could convince Cas to smite it or something.

"Sammy? Cas?" he called out, cursing when he smashed his knee into a chair and sent it skittering across the tile. The metal shrieked through the otherwise quiet night.

No answer.

Dean tried to steady his breath. It was no problem—they were just checking if there was actually a ghost or not. A friend of a friend of a hunter had called and, since that guy wasn't in the area, he had called Bobby who had called them to see if they could take a look. The gal who managed the place said they had the night to check it out, but that was all she could manage to get them. They were a 24/7 store, after all. It hurt business to be shut down for eight hours.

Right. Like there were a lot of people wanting Big Mac's at three in the morning in this tiny-ass town.


Dean sighed and moved towards the play area. He'd just come from the kitchen and hadn't found anything other than a few dead bugs and about three inches of grime and grease coating the walls.

"Sammy? Cas?" he called again as he pushed the door to the play area open.

Balls in the ball pit moved.

Dean froze. He did not want to get jumped by some creepy monster or some kid who had gotten left behind.


"Sammy? Where are you?"


Dean looked up. His brother waved from the tiny window in one of those tunnels that ran along the ceiling.

"Are you kidding me right now?"

Sam gave him a sheepish grin.

"What are you even doing up there?"

"... Being thorough?"

Dean breathed deeply and ran a hand over his face. "Where's Cas?"

"Hello, Dean."

Dean looked over towards an open tower criss-crossed with black ropes. The trench coat pooled around his shoulders as he hung upside-down in it. Dean wasn't even sure how the dude had gotten stuck like that.

Dean looked down, pulling in his lips to bite them to keep from saying something scathing. He licked his lips, then ran a hand over his face. What the hell was he supposed to do? A heavy sigh escaped. There was only one thing he could do.

He pulled out his phone and snapped two quick pictures. Once those had been sent to Bobby, he spun on his heel and ignored their cries of indignation as he walked away.