I started this before or very early in season three then stumbled across it again today (so Sammy's and Dean's attitudes are a tad different)
I don't own anything, seriously, nothing.


Dean blinked his eyes open as a large weight sunk onto the side of his hotel bed, a quick glance at the clock told him that it was eleven pm.

"Dean." Sam's voice hissed sharply beside him, his younger brothers looming outline was just visible in the semidarkness.

"What is it Sammy?" Dean groaned as he sat up and rubbed a hand across his eyes.

"I found a way to save you." Sam's voice was deep and emotional and Dean could see the glint of his brothers' puppy dog eyes. What Sam meant by 'saving' Dean was of course preventing his brother from dropping dead at the end of the year and having his soul dragged down into hell to be tortured for all eternity. Not wanting to spend all of eternity suffering Dean eagerly latched on to what Sam said.


"I sold my soul." The pause was filled with emotions and highly uncomfortable.

"What." Dean's voice was a deadpan.

"I sold my soul to this guy named Meta… Mefa… It was really hard to pronounce and he only told me once." Sam explained not comforting his brother in the slightest.

"How could you do that Sam? Now you're trapped in a deal to die just like I am." Dean said trying to understand his brothers' incompetence as he sat up straighter.

"No, you're not trapped any more. And here's the good part, I'm not going to die." Dean stared as Sam; the man had obviously lost his mind.

"Would you mind explaining to me how you're not going to die?"

"Well he said that instead of dying I would just become his writer."

"… His writer?"

"Yeah that's what he said, and I mean his writer, that can't be too bad," Sam explained as he tugged as the collar of his jacket. "Does it feel hot in here or is it just me?" Sam asked, Dean only shrugged trying to think why a demon would need a writer. When Dean looked back over at Sam he almost screamed, not that he would scream, it would have been more of a manly shout.

Sam had taken off his jacket and without it Dean could see why Sam felt so hot, it looked like he had caught fire from the inside out. Noticing his brothers stare Sam looked down and gave a shrill and girly scream as he saw his hands glowing and starting to smolder.

Dean sat stunned on his bed and watched in horror as Sam ran around the hotel room screaming and slapping at the fire that was consuming his body and melting anything that he came close to. It was like watching a salt and burn, completely disgusting but oddly fascinating at the same time, Dean was surprised that Sam was still screaming and running considering he had been reduced to little more than a flaming skeleton.

Sam finally seemed to remember what to do when you're on fire and flopped behind the other hotel bed, there was a small fiery explosion then the room was silent.

"Sam?" there was no answer; Dean bowed his head in disgust "Death by fiery explosion, story of my life!"

That's when he heard it, a low grumbling growl coming from behind Sam's bed, looking over he saw the glow of Sam's supposedly dissipating embers growing brighter. Dean was about to get off his bed and investigate when a fiery figure rose out of the glow and rid the room of darkness.

Tall and lean the creature was nothing but flame and bone draped with the clothing that Sam had worn moments ago.

"Sammy?" the figure turned its fire crowned skull to look at Dean before it's gaze drifted down and landed on the leather jacket laying at the foot of the bed. Without a word the thing that had once been Sammy Winchester stepped forward and slung on his brothers jacket before fishing in the pocket and finding the keys to the Impala, in four long strides he was out the door.

Dean sat silently in his bed staring at the hotel door wondering what the hell had just happened. A large fireball appeared in the parking lot as the distinct sound of the Impalas roaring engine sprang to life.

"Impala, NO!" Dean tore the covers off himself and ran out onto the hotel sidewalk in time to see the Impala, flames licking it's sides and his maniac flaming skeleton of a brother behind the wheel, drive off into the distance. He stared after them for a long moment.

"You hurt my car and I'll kill you!"


What do you think, I've only seen about three crossovers with Ghost Rider but never one that was pure humor (it is funny right?)
Oh, and Sam sold his soul to Mephistopheles, which I could only pronounce for about a month after I saw the movie when it first hit the theaters.