Disclaimer: Until the cheque clears they're still the CW's

Hey guys! So this little idea has been bugging me for ages. Am sure you've all played this at some point, someone says a line of a song and you say the next lines. There's 21 songs in this fic , the boys are gonna give you the lyrics but i want you to give the artist and song name! (answers will be given at the end)

And just to make it more fun the boys are back with Grace and Nicki and Dean is a little hurt!



The definition of simple didn't really exist in the World of Winchester. Not through lack of trying, but more so because anything involving the word 'simple' seemed to head in the opposite direction the second the brothers were involved. See, there was this spirit right, and it was causing chaos. In a factory the next town on from a small diner where a heavily pregnant girl with long blonde hair worked. She'd been there for four years now, was a part of the furniture so to speak. When Al, the owner of the diner had decided to retire, the girl along with her husband Jason, decided to take over the place. He'd happily signed over the property. His heart happy in the knowledge that his favourite waitress was going to be carrying on the business he'd fought to build up.

So one afternoon in walked a heavy set guy with worry etched into his brow and a tired look in his eyes. The girl, being the curious sort, poured him a coffee, leant a hip against the counter and asked him what was up.

"My job," he started. "Work in the factory over in Billsbury, but things keep happening, people keep getting hurt. Last week they decided to close the place while they investigated an accident on the second floor. My buddy Pete lost his arm. They said the closure is temporary but ma'am I think it's for good. I'm here visiting family, hoping to find work. I just don't know that I can go back to the factory if they re-open it. See, I saw something. We've all seen it. But management won't listen."

"What is it? What did you see?"

"Ma'am, it can't be right , can't be true. But damn I saw it with my own two eyes. Ya know? It was this little 'thing'. God I can barely believe I'm gonna say this, but it looked like a gremlin. And I swear it broke through a wall, we ran into the other room and saw it messing with the machines. It was messing with the machines and it was laughing and then it disappeared! Can you believe that?"

"Sure sounds weird Sir."

"I seen it a few times. But just outta the corner of my eye. No one believes us but I can't go back there."

The girl poured the man more coffee.

"You know of any jobs in this town?"

"Sorry sir, but we're only just managing to pull ourselves out of the hole, I'll ask around for you but all our factories are closed now."

"That's too bad. I really liked working in that place. I was good at my job ya know. It might have been simple work to some, but it was what I knew and what I loved. But that, that thing….I just can't go back there."

The girl leant forward, careful of her swollen belly, she beckoned the man forward and whispered in his ear.

"What if I told you I believe you , and I know some guys that could help with that problem?"

"I'd say I'd be forever in your debt ma'am. I'm Hank." Said the man as he extended his hand.

"Nicki." Said the girl, shaking his hand in return.


With simple, comes the phrase 'piece of cake'. When said by the older Winchester the younger usually had to fight the overwhelming urge to run for cover and hide. With that one phrase the hands of fate spun and reached down, happily messing with everything the younger man hoped and prayed would never happen.

Take for example their current situation. A future funny story to tell the grandkids, one that would no doubt get them incredulous looks and disbelieving comments.

Go on in, locate the Gremlin in the basement, kill it with a little fire, home in time for dinner.


When was it ever?

Sam kicked the door again, feeling the skin on his foot through his boot begin to bruise. It was all he could do. Kick the door. It seemed appropriate though, the door was heavy, thick and unresponsive. Just like his older brother.

He kicked it again and resisted the urge to scream, he turned to survey Dean, slumped in the corner and out for the count and thought 'what the hell'. Letting forth a scream to awaken the dead, Sam gave the door one last kick and then spent the next minute hopping up and down and wishing for the pain in his foot to stop.

Dean's first thought as he began his slow, steady climb toward consciousness was that he really needed to have a word with Spielberg and Columbus. Firstly, gremlins didn't start out as cute little cuddly creatures that broke everyone's hearts when they pretended to be Steve McQueen racing around a track. Secondly, they could eat any damn time they wanted. Thirdly, they were big. The size of a small child and had strength enough to cause mayhem wherever they felt like it. In all their time hunting the Winchester's had only ever come across one of the things and John had waxed on about how easy they were to kill and what a piece of cake it would be. Four hours later he'd come back from the hunt with his clothes in tatters and with one hell of a scar on the right side of his cheek. Yep, that much Spielberg and Columbus had got right, they had claws.

Since then no one had really heard anymore tales of them. Bobby had claimed they'd died out. Having a slight allergy to rain. Oh no, it didn't make them multiply, oh no. It made them sick and weak. See, water to Gremlins was like pesticide to flies.

But this one? Well it was a little smarter than the usual gremlin. It had lived it's life in the basement of the factory, quietly enjoying it's life and eating the garbage that was dumped every day by the back door of the large, grey building. The gremlin had lived like the Grinch, in heaven with the leftovers and discarded meals. It's only access from the basement was the door that led to where the garbage was dumped. And thanks to the inclement weather he most certainly was not going to be venturing far from there. No thank you.

Well, not until someone had been looking for more storage space for the metal delivery from the big contract the factory had just won. They'd just gone right ahead and opened the big, heavy steal door. The door that had been kept closed for at least two decades after one factory worker had discovered the gremlin that was causing all the accidents and locked him in. Not trusting his colleagues to believe him, he'd simply decided the problem was solved and had gone about his business.


Dean listened to Sam kicking the door and decided he should really try to wake up and help him with whatever the hell it was he was doing. But his eyes were glued tightly shut and his head seemed too heavy to move.

That was until he heard the blood curdling yell that jack-knifed him into a semi sitting position, only to have his body betray him and send him straight back down to the cold dusty floor.


Sam rushed to his fallen siblings side, a hand to his chest. Dean's eyes were squeezed shut as he attempted to breathe through the pain.

"Dean?" Quieter this time, less sure the older man was even conscious.


"You ok man?"


"You scared me, you've been out for over an hour. I couldn't wake you up and I can't get us.."

Dean held a finger to his lips, still with his eyes closed, he shushed his brother.

"Oh, sorry man, guess you got one killer headache."

"Sam please shut up." Said on an exhale of breath.


Sam sat back on his haunches and waited for Dean to ride out the wave of misery he was currently riding. He looked around the room , for the hundreth time since he'd dragged his brother in here and away from the fire that had threatened to eat them alive. The room was small but high, with pipes running overhead and down the walls. The only door was currently wedged shut by the debris that had fallen from the fire they'd set in the other room. Boxes were piled along the sides, each held machinery parts, all wrapped in plastic and bubble wrap. There was a vent on the wall behind where Dean currently lay slumped, but Sam couldn't reach it and even if he could he didn't think he could drag Dean up to it.

A gentle groan brought his attention back to his stubborn, pig headed brother. The brother who decided that torching the sucker would be simple to do but who'd forgotten the simple fact that the creature was standing in the only doorway that led out and up to the exit on the first floor.

Dean knew he needed to open his eyes. Needed to make sure Sam was ok. With that thought in mind he cracked open one eyelid. Testing it's reaction to the dim light of the room, the small bulb overhead offering a surprising amount of light considering it's size.

"You alright?" Dean fixed Sam with a poor excuse for a stare but managed to convey his concern for his little brother nonetheless.

"Yeah man I'm fine. How are you?"



"No, but there's not much you can do about it." Dean reached up and gingerly felt the back of his head. His hand came away sticky. He stared dumfounded at the redness of his fingers. "Huh?"

"You hit your head."

The look Dean gave his brother screamed 'No shit'.

"I don't remember that."

"Well I do, I didn't know you could do superman impressions."

"I flew?"

"Yep, right into the wall."

"That sucker was strong. It is a 'was' isn't it?"

"Yeah, torched it. But it ran into the boxes that were by the door and the whole place lit up so I had to drag your ass in here."

"Way to go Sammy." Dean said as he gingerly began the process of sitting up. He frowned but allowed Sam to help pull him into a sitting position. Leaning against the wall Dean surveyed their new home.

"No other way out?"

"Not that I can find, or reach." Sam gestured to the vent high above Dean's head. As soon as Dean looked up his vision swam and Sam had to grab his shoulder to keep him from slumping back down to the floor.

"Easy, easy man. Dean, look at me." Sam squatted at eye level with his brother and waited patiently for him to re-open his eyes.

If 'equal and reactive' meant one pupil was bigger than the other, then Dean was fine and dandy.

"You have concussion."

"Would explain why there's two of you." Dean said with a smirk. He felt his eyes begin to droop, and figured since Sam was uninjured and fine for the moment that now was as good as any time for a little nap. The slaps to his cheek said otherwise.

"No no no man, you need to stay awake."

"I'm awake."

"Yeah right." Sam appraised his brother with worried eyes. He needed to keep him awake, needed to get them out of there and back to Grace's. Needed to get him in the care of Doc Jones. He slapped Dean's cheek again as his brother started to drift off.

"Ok man, we're gonna play that game."

"What game?" Mumbled Dean.

"The one you and Nicki were playing yesterday."

"No dude , you need two people who know about music for that." Dean smiled sarcastically at his brother.

"I know music."

"You know commercial, doesn't count."

"Wanna bet? I grew up listening to your music Dean. I had no choice. Come on play with me."

Dean struggled to find a more comfortable position without moving his head.

"Please never say that line to me again."

Sam smirked and began to check every inch of the room again.

"Ready?" Dean nodded as Sam began to speak, "Dance in the dark of night, sing to the morning light. The apples turn to brown and black, the tyrants face is red. Oh the war is common cry, pick up your swords and fly."

Dean began to nod in pride but thought better of it as his vision shifted and the room spun.

"Not bad Sam. The sky is filled with good and bad that mortals never know."

"And the rest."

Dean sighed but continued. "Oh well the night is long, the beads of time pass slow, tired eyes on the sunrise, waiting for the eastern glow."

Even despite the effort causing his head to feel like it had swollen to twice it's size and was about to bust open, Dean had to laugh at his brother's smile.



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