"Come on, man. You need more laughter in your life. You know, you're way too tense." –Dean, Hell House.

"Just for the record the weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of
A. Indifference and
B. Disinterest in what the critics say." –Panic! at the Disco

The fans agree: "Mad spider monkey love. Dean and Sam…HELL YES. Nothing else to say. Mad spider monkey love captures it all. Rock on, my friend."- fairytalemanipulator

A/N: It's a funny thing; what reviews do to a writer. Your reviews were awesome and made us almost completely forget that we originally thought we'd get flamed. As a disclaimer, we played with Sammy and Dean again. They're a little worse for wear, but we're positive that they'll be in tip top shape by the next episode; as always. Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated. Any more requests might turn this into a triple shot.

Part Too

Scene 5- Story Arch My Ass

A lazy night of research puts Sam into a quizzical mood. He suddenly starts wondering about Dean and some of the many questions he's had about brother during their journey.

"Dean, why did your eyes bleed when we crossed Bloody Mary?" Sam asks.

"Dude, I have allergies."

"Allergies made your capillaries burst?"

"Yeah, must have been that nasty-ass, bitch-skank, dead scent she was giving off."

"Or you have a secret, Dean. Why don't you just tell me what you did?"

"Or, Smartass- could it be possible she was pissed off that I broke her mirror."

Sam thinks that over for a second. The light bulb turning on. "Oh, yeah!"

They drop that and sit there for a while. Dean is watching a Lifetime movie and Sam continues doing research on their case.

"What about that necklace?" Sam starts up.

"Dude, what the f--- is up with the twenty questions?"

"I'm just curious."

"That is for me to know and for you to…not know. Okay. Now shut up. Sally Field is on."


"Look princess, I'm telling you..."

Dean sighs and looks down at the charm around his neck, then up into Sam's puppy dog eyes. Dean's kryptonite. "You promise not to tell anyone, man. I mean, I want to keep "the mystery" about it, alright?"

"Yeah, Dean." Sam crawls to the edge of his bed and stares anxiously. "So what is up with it? Protective amulet? Does it have some ressurective powers? No…wait, it's your soul!"

Dean raises a brow and looks at his brother like he is crazy. "Dude, I got it out of a cracker-jack box. End of story." Dean looks back at the TV.

Sam is crestfallen, and goes back to researching…and broods.

Scene 6-Two Guys, a Girl, and a Terrier/ Dean and the Impala are Love

"Now, promise us you won't go near anymore gingerbread houses in haunted woods," Sam says to the wide eyed little girl they just saved from a witch.

"Pwomise," the little girl says, hugging her Boston Terrier, Wrinkles.

Dean is off to the side and wiping at his mouth in disgust. "I can't believe that wrinkly old bitch kissed me."

"Dude, watch the language around the kid, and it's your own stupid fault. You fell for the witch's hot girl disguise."

"Shut up, dude," He says as he leans against the Impala.

"Thank you, Mr. Dean," the little girl smiles and runs to hug his leg. He side steps and she face plants into the side of the Impala.

"Welcome, kid," Dean says, then looks at Sam. "Let's hit the road."

"Dean, we need to take her home."

Dean looks more scared than he had that time a woman in white tried to castrate him. "Dude, not in my car."

"Then what do you suggest, Dean? We're in the middle of nowhere."

Dean shakes his head. "Sam, I don't even like kids…well, scratch that, I like kids if they have hot moms." He looks at the little girl who is picking herself up off the ground. "Is your mom hot?"

"Huh?" She asks.

"Dean, we're taking her home. Now."

Sam opens the passenger side door and ushers in the girl and the dog. Dean looks like he is about to pass out.

"The dog too?"

Sam just rolls his eyes and gets into the car.


"It's Sam!" His brother calls from inside.

Dean strokes the Impala.

"I'm so sorry girl."

He gets in and looks at the ugly face of the dog who is breathing heavily on him. "Ruin anything, and I will fix your hairy ass with my Desert Eagle magnum."

The dog whines and lies down.

They drive off toward the girl's house. Sam notices that Dean's choice in music seems to be scaring the girl.

"Hey, Dean," Sam starts, "Maybe we could let her listen to something that isn't so…well, you."

"Touch my radio and I will throw you out of the car!" Dean shouts over the rock music. The girl starts to cry and the dog starts to bark.

"Okay! Okay!" Dean turns off the music and motions toward the radio. "Have at it, kid."

The little girl beams and starts to toy with the radio. She stops at a station playing James Blunt and beams up at Dean.

"Spawn of Satan," Dean mutters, taking her smile as a complete mockery.

She starts to sing along with the music and bob around her cute pig tails. Sam seems to think it's the cutest thing he's ever seen. Dean thinks the girl's pigtails are actually overgrown devil horns, and he is silently wishing for death. The girl plays with the radio some more and comes across some pop princess music. She sings along with a Brittany Spears song and Dean looks like he is going to be sick.

"Dude, come on, now I'm going to have to exorcise my car," he whines to Sam.

Sam just smiles and starts to sing along with the little girl, just to tick off Dean. Dean swears to get Sam back and hums some Metallica to himself to drown out the painful noise destroying his brain. After a while it gets to be too much. Dean slams his fist into the radio, turning it off and glares at both of them.

"I would rather be possessed by a cross-dressing, Yanni worshiping spirit than listen to that crap!"

The little girl looks at him and pouts. "You're mean."

"And you're like two feet tall. Shut up."

"All of you shut up," comes a voice from the back seat. "Can't a guy get some decent shut-eye?"

Sam and Dean look at each other in amazement then look back. They see their father sprawled out in the back seat taking a nap.

"Dad, what the f---?" Dean exclaims. "How long have you been back there?"

"Yeah, Dad," Sam starts. "I thought you wanted us to stay away from you after Chicago."

"Blah, blah, blah, whine, whine, whine. Get a life, Sam," John groans as he sits up. "I went investigating into a way to kill this thing."

"And?" Sam pressed.

"And I found this," John holds up a diner napkin with a poorly drawn gun on it. Below it are some stick figures battling it out. Under the one figure with the gun and two stick figure ladies hanging off its arms was the name John. The other stick figure is all covered in red marker to show blood. Ceiling Demon is written beneath it.

"Uh…yeeahhh," Sam grimaces.

"A gun?" Dean asks taking his eyes off the road long enough to look at the drawing.

"No. Better. It is a drawing of a gun."

Sam rolls his eyes and Dean nods in approval.

"Cool," Dean says casually.

"It was forged in like the 1500's. During that Alamo thingy," John continues.

"Dad, don't you mean 18-?"

"Don't interrupt me, Sam."

Sam sinks back into his seat and broods.

"Listen, I'm going to go find this gun. You boys just keep doing what you are doing," John says. He suddenly notices the girl in the front seat. "Dean, you…not so much."

"Dad, she's not my kid," Dean sighs.

"That's a relief. Well, it was nice talking with you boys."

"Dad? Where are you going? You're in a moving vehicle," Sam states the obvious.

"Dean, son, slow this baby down to about fifty," John says as he opens the back door.

"Yes, sir."

"Dad, you can't jump out of a moving vehicle."

"Stop being so pessimistic, Sammy."

John then leaps out of the back seat and rolls a few times before coming to a stop. He brushes himself off and heads down the road. Sam watches him from the rearview mirror in shock.

"Dad is so friggin' awesome," Dean smiles to himself.

"For once, I'm going to agree with you there…" Sam states.

Scene 7- Beaten to Hell/ Torture Fetish Anyone?

After some unknown amount of time has passed, Sam and Dean are hunting down Meg, who for the 13th time has seemed to elude them before kicking their asses. Once again they've tracked her down to the ironically named town of Optimism, Indiana.

"This is stupid Dean. Every time we find her she brings us within an inch of death and then leaves us to re-cooperate only to have the same thing happen all over again."

"Sam, cut the f---ing shit alright? I'm tired of you whining all the time."

Sam furrows his brow, a little hurt. "I'm just trying to have a normal conversation with you, dude. One that doesn't involve innuendos or stupid jokes or anything making fun of me."

"What the f--- Sammy?"

Sam looks out the window. "Forget it."

Dean pulls into a parking lot of a motel and shuts off the engine.

"No! I'm not going to f---ing forget it! You're going to tell me what the f--- is going on with you Sam."

Sam thinks for a moment, and then facepalms. "Crap… not now."

Dean rolls his eyes, not really wanting to play along, but doing it anyway. "Not what now?"

"Umm…" Sam is quiet for a few moments. "I had a vision about this. About that conversation. We're about to be beat to hell by Meg… again."

"This better not be one of your stupid pranks again Sam. That whole vision thing last time. That was not f---ing funny."

"It's not Dean. I'm serious. You're going to get a room for the night, along with the number of the brunette at the front desk. Then, we come back out to the car only to find Meg trying to hotwire it."

"That bitch is going to try to steal my car?"

"That's what happened in my vision."

"Alright." He smacks the back of Sam's head. "So you go get a room, Haley Joel… while I stock up on holy water, salt, and enough rounds to blow this girls mind." He smirks at his own joke.

"I'm surprised you're passing up the brunette."

"Good point. You stay here and wait for your buckets-o-crazy girlfriend. I'll go get the room."

Sam rolls his eyes and gets out of the car. Making his way to the trunk he grabs a couple shotguns and throws them in the backseat before shoving salt and holy water in his pockets.

"Sam, nice to see you've still not gotten a haircut."

Sam rolls his eyes, a convenient and common occurrence lately. "Meg. Nice to see you've still got no class, no manners, and very bad 'sneak up' technique."

"You know, Sam," she starts off, moving closer to him as he closes the trunk. "I really did like you. If things weren't so bad… well perhaps we'd have a little Romeo and Juliet action going on."

Sam makes a face. "Yeah, maybe if you weren't trying to kill me and my family."

Meg wraps an arm around Sam's waist. "Too bad for that, isn't it?"

Sam wasn't sure how good it was to let her get so close, but by this point, there wasn't much he could do about it.

"So, you want me to just knock you out and get it over with? Or are you boys going to try and put up a fight this time?" Meg smirked.

"Why don't we take this a little more, secluded?" Sam asks. Getting your ass kicked by a girl was one thing. Having sixty cars around to be thrown into was quite another. Sam decides that four plaster walls would be better than a number of brick ones, not to mention countless metal rods. She seems to be satisfied with that, even though Sam can't be sure what she's thinking. He grabs the keys from Dean when he came back out of the office, phone number in hand.

The three make their way to the room, so that Meg can have her sick twisted fun with the boys. While her attention is diverted, Sam pulls out the flask of holy water and begins dumping it on her. Meg cringes in pain but grabs Sam's arm, twisting it so that he dropped the flask. She then brakes his arm.

"That wasn't very nice, Sammy," she chides.

Sam looks at his arm. How had things gone downhill so quickly? Oh that's right…the writers made it so. "And this is?"

"You're right." She throws Sam against the wall, his ribs all break, and he falls to the ground, the wind knocked out of him.

"HEY! Leave him alone!"

"Oh, is Dean getting jealous?" she smiles, moving over to him. "Not getting enough action?" She picks him up and throws him across the room. He hits the headboard of one of the beds, dislocating a shoulder, and falls down onto it. Meg walks over to Dean.

"You know Dean. I've got a little message for you." She grabs his hair and keeps his head still, making sure he was listening. "Your father? He never really liked you. Only put up with you so that he could find out what was going on with Sam. He always knew Sammy was the special child. That's all he ever needed you for, to look out for the good son, the special son, the perfect son. As far as he was concerned you could have died any number of times, as long as you saved Sam. And now, you might just get that chance."

Dean cringes, the words cutting him to the very core. Sam begins reciting an exorcism once he's recovered enough. Meg screams as she turns her attention back to Sam, feeling her spirit breaking free from the body she was in.

She picks up a lamp stand, breaks it in pieces and uses it as a javelin. She sends it hurling toward Sam, but Dean steps in the way and knocks his brother to the ground. He gets the metal through the shoulder and is pinned to the wall.

"This is so not cool," he whines as he grabs at the metal and starts to pull it out, blood going everywhere.

"Dean!" Sam cries, realizing his brother's over protective nature has once again cost Dean a pint of blood.

"Sammy…I…don't think…I will make it."















-End Unnecessary Cliffie-

"No!" Sam screams.

His powers advance to the point where everything in the motel disintegrates, including Meg, and only Dean and Sam are left among the remnant dust. Nursing his broken arm and ribs, Sam goes to his brother and holds his head in his lap.

"Dean! Please live!"


"Don't talk, man, you've lost a lot of blood."

"Sammy," Dean tries again.

"Dean, I love you. I'm so sorry I didn't pay attention to my visions."

"Sam…kind of bleeding to death here, buddy. Might want to… go to a hospital."

"Save your breath, Dean. I'm so sorry."

"Dude, for the love, stop crying and… get me some help."

Dean passes out and Sam rocks his body amongst the rubble for a half an hour as he apologizes and reminisces over their boyhood. Somehow, Sam manages to control himself enough to get Dean into the Impala and get him to the hospital. He's sure it's too late, and that there's nothing they can do to save his brother, but goes anyway. Miraculously, Dean survives with only minor tissue damage, and in a mere four hours, his wounds will heal over without the least bit of scarring.

Scene 8- Emo Sam-scratch that- Emo Dean

Dean and Sam are leaving yet another hospital after their near death experience. Dean is being rolled out to the car by Sam. He looks like a mummy, wrapped from head to foot.

"Damn, sadistic writers," Dean mutters.

"What was that?" Sam asks.

"Nothing," Dean lies. He can't get over how he almost got Sam killed. Sam helps him into the car.

They get back to the motel where Dean starts feeling "fragile." He lies in bed and starts wishing for death. Then he thinks about his kick-ass car and the plethora of women's numbers in his jacket pocket. It makes him feel somewhat better.

Sam sees that he is tearing up and sits beside him.

"Hey, man…you okay?"

"Yeah, Sam…I just…what she said about our family. How she said I'm a waste and Dad loves you more…"

"Dude, don't take that to heart," Sam tries his hand at soothing his brother.

Dean starts crying uncontrollably. Somehow he is able to get up and go outside. Sam follows and together they stand in the ice cold rain.


"Dude, just give me a second."

"You are crying and standing in the rain, I've never seen you do that before, Dean. You're kind of freaking me out."

"Sammy…Don't leave me."

"What?" Sam asks. Not understanding where this is all coming from.

"I'm not leaving. Well, when we kill the Demon, I'm heading back to school where I will meet another blond who reminds me of the mother I never had and provides me with the love and security I have felt lacking from a female my whole life, but I won't leave you Dean."

"I just…Sammy, hold me."


"Hold me. This is in no way a joke, man. Don't make me ask you again."

Sam holds Dean while he cries…in the rain.

Back in the hotel room, Dean seems to have calmed down. He lies in bed while Sam does some more research. Sam is bothered by his brother's breakdown.

"Dean, look man, what you said earlier. What brought that all about?"

Dean looks off into the distance. "Dad asked me to protect you once…"


John loads a shot gun and puts it by the door. He then checks his sideburns in a mirror before turning to a nine year old Dean.

"Son, I need you to watch your brother."

"I know, I know, you don't have to beat a dead horse, Dad."

"Yeah, well, shut up. Call pastor Jim if you need anything."

"Why? He throws like a girl. I think I can handle this." Little Dean looks over and sees his brother watching TV. The little chipmunk is hypnotized by his favorite TV show. Papa Winchester nods and heads out. He stops at the door to add something. "I'm counting on you, Dean."

"Yes, sir."

Dean watches Sam throughout the night. He gets bored and Sam mouths off to him about dinner. He is forced to give his kid brother the last of the Lucky Charms while he suffers through Spaghetti-ohs…again. As the night wears on, Dean gets bored and gets an idea.

Around eleven, John walks into the motel room and finds Dean in a sugar coma in front of the TV. All around him are chocolate bar wrappers and potato chip bags. John shakes Dean awake.

"Dean, where is your brother?"

Dean looks back to the closet and shrugs. "Safe, Dad."


John walks over to the closet and opens it. He finds Sam tied to a chair and surrounded by a circle of salt. Dean comes beside his Dad and smiles at his handy work.

"I kept him safe. When that mo-fo shtriga came around, I lit its ass with your flame thrower."

"Dean, you tied your brother to a chair. And I don't own a flame thrower."

"Well I made one with your zippo and some aerosol spray."

"That's my little pyro."

John ruffles Dean's hair and looks at poor bound and gagged Sam. "You okay there, Sam?"

Sam nods and John unties him. "Dean made me miss Thundercats."

John rolls his eyes. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, my boy."

Sam starts to cry. "And Dean didn't let me out to use the bathroom."


"Sammy, I never forgave myself for keeping you in the closet."

"Keeping me in the closet?" Sam shakes his head wondering if Dean even realizes the glaring connotation of his choice of words. He just ignores this and continues to comfort his brother. "Dean. Don't worry about it."

"Sam, my injuries and my complex nature have me questioning the very fabric of my being. My will to live…my will to exist anymore…"

"Dean…what the crap, man? Grow some hair."

Dean blinks a few times and smiles at his brother's remark. "You're right. This isn't me."

"No man, you'd tell death, and Meg, and flashbacks laden with emotion to go f--- themselves. I can't deal with you being so…emo."

"Thanks, Sam." Dean sits up and shakes his head. He looks at the keys to the Impala. "Want a beer?"

"There's my brother," Sam smiles. "Jerk."




"This is getting old," Sam sighs. "We only said this in like… the season premiere."

"I know, man. It's that same dead horse. Time to just put a match to this keg."

"Amen," Sam smiles as he grabs the keys. "You buying?"

"Carl Burkawitzski is buying," Dean smiles as he pulls out a fake credit card.

"Hells yeah!" Sam exclaims.

Our two heroes ride off into the sunset to some classic/mullet rock group, probably Metallica or Guns and Roses. Hell, even Bon Jovi. Yes, Bon Jovi, because in the world of fanfiction our boys are just "living on a prayer."