Title: The Best Medicine
Disclaimer: Kripke's characters, don't own anyone, you know the drill, you're a smart bunch.
Author's Notes: Okay, this is going to take some explaining. Just to see if I could do it, I used the following words from the E/O Drabble Challenge: Cover, Fade, Light, Shudder, Profile, Melt, Collapse, and Face. See if you can find them all.
Spoiler: Season Four compatible
Sam looked down at his brother, bit down hard on his lip, and tried to maintain some element of restraint, even as he felt his defenses fading.
ONE of them had to try and keep it together, or it was gonna be a long night.
Stupid pixies and their stupid dust, he thought, couldn't be a simple Will o the Wisp… had to be pixies. A sneak attack by the little creatures had left both Winchesters covered with sparkly powder, the effects of which were almost immediate.
Dean lay on the grass, a shuddering, helpless wreck. Tears streamed down from his emerald green eyes as he clutched his stomach, laughing. Actually, at that point he was giggling hysterically, an action he would later loudly deny.
"C-come on, Dean" Sam pleaded, tugging on Dean's right hand. "We need to get b-back to the car and wash this s-stuff off!" Although his words were serious, a wide grin covered his handsome face, as he fought the urge to collapse right beside his older sibling and laugh the rest of the night away. He'd never dealt with pixie dust before; it was such a bizarre feeling, like being tickled all over, but in a light, gentle way.
Dean squinted up at Sam's profile, gave him a semi-critical stare, like he was trying to sober himself up. An intensely dopey smile pulled at his full lips as he pointed at his younger brother and started to chuckle again.
"Du-de…" he drawled, 'y-your hair's all s-sparkly…" Whatever else he'd been about to say was quickly forgotten as Dean howled with renewed hysteria.
He suddenly pulled on Sam's hand, and his brother fell on the grass next to him with a yelp. The pixie dust and Dean's comment finally melted through the last vestiges of control Sam had left and before he could stop himself he was laughing just as helplessly as Dean.
For a few minutes the Winchesters simply lay beside each other on the forest floor, staring up at the full moon above, just letting the dust work its magic. Both knew they weren't it any danger - it was just, well, kind of embarrassing that two seasoned hunters had gotten "dusted" by a duo of pixies.
At least they would have found it embarrassing if they didn't find it (along with everything else) so FREAKING FUNNY right now.
"D-dean…" Sam started, broke into a stream of giggles before he could finish.
"I-I know, Sammy. We've gotta clean this gunk off…" For a brief second the humor left Dean's eyes and Sam could see the pain that always lurked beneath the surface. "C-can't we just sit here for a little while longer, though?"
Sam, coughed, and gave Dean a grin; a real grin, not one fueled by the dust. "S-sure", he said giving Dean a slap on the shoulder.
"Is it wrong that I d-don't want these feelings to stop, 'cause it just feel so good to just laugh again?"
"No Dean. It's not wrong."
"Is it wrong that I wanna go track down those pixies and buy them a beer?"
Sam sat up, looked down at Dean, who'd stretched himself out on the forest floor. "Um, yeah. That's kinda wrong, dude."
"Well, they could split it…" Dean started to chuckle again, Sam joined in, and once again laughter filled the balmy night air.