Summary: Dean's stuck in the walls … Literally! So it's Sam to the rescue.
Warning: Uhm, usual Winchester language…
Disclaimer: I actually own both a wall and a flashlight and … Oh, you mean the boys and the show? *Sigh* Of course I don't own them, I just like playing with 'em.
Stuck in the Wall
"Dean!? Where are you?!" Sam yelled. Dean had been right behind him just seconds ago, but now he was nowhere in sight. "Dean!"
Wait, was someone calling? Sam looked around to see if anybody was there, but he could only see the sad, broken waste of a house he was walking around in. The beams half lying on the floor instead of holding the roof, the darkness letting the moon make shadows of the ramshackle, rotten furniture.
"Dean?!" He called again, in hope that he didn't just hear things because of the old house that was creeping him out.
It sounded like it was coming from … The wall? Sam questioned himself. How the hell did Dean end there?
He stepped over to the wall, leaned forward and called calm but firm: "Dean, are you inside the wall?"
"You tell anybody, I'll kick you ass," that was just the answer Sam needed before he started to laugh. His brother was stuck in the wall, this he would never forget; finally he had something on his brother.
"How did you get there?" He was kind of hoping Dean would say he went in there himself, because that would definitely save his day, but he also knew it most likely was not the case.
"Don't know, one moment I was behind you, the next I was here … Hey! You are procrastinating this; just get me out of here!" Dean yelled, and Sam felt like rolling on the floor laughing. It was a bit absurd: saving his brother from being stuck inside of a wall in an old, creepy house in the middle of the night. At least it wasn't what he decided to do when had gotten out of bed that morning.
"Sammy! No daydreaming!" Dean's yell woke him, and he found the biggest and best branch in the room. They were only out to get information, so they hadn't brought anything else than a flashlight and their guns.
"Okay Dean, you have to tell me exactly where you are so I won't smack you, knock or something," Sam ordered and listened carefully. A knock from inside the walls got his attention, and he moved against it until he was standing right in front of where the noise was loudest.
"I'm here now, just wait a second and I'll get you out," Sam soothed and started to hit the old, tumbledown wall with all his strength. Soon something creaked, and after a few more pushes, there was a hole. After kicking it a few times, there was enough space for him to stick his head in to watch how his brother was actually stuck there.
He could hear the raspy breath when he stuck his head inside, and when he turned on the flashlight he got a very annoyed glared from his brother. Sam did everything he could not to laugh, but he didn't succeed at all. Inside was a grumpy man, bent awkwardly to fit the narrow space between the walls.
"You better not be laughing at me, it is so not funny Sam!" Dean mumbled while trying to move over to the hole of freedom.
"Look on the bright side Dean, you're not fat," though Sam actually tried to be serious and comforting, the image of a fat Dean stuck in that narrow space made him burst into a loud laugher.
"Ha, ha, ha Sam, hilarious … Really hilarious, now get me the hell out of here!" Sam's laugher died a little. Dean was pissed; he could hear that, so he hurried making the hole wide enough for a grown man to get out. When he was done, an irritable Dean crawled out and took his time to brush the dust off of his jacket.
"You better wipe that smirk off your face or I'll put you inside that whole and built a big wall in front of it so you can't get out," Dean warned.
"Hey, I just got you out, why so grumpy? You're like the Grinch, and the faint light actually makes you look green," probably not the best thing to say to his older brother at that moment, considering he was cross.
"Yeah? Then you're the little girl who helps the Grinch, you've got the hair." Sam didn't really now an answer to that without starting a fight which he really didn't need, so he just let it go and changed the subject.
"So we've got a body to salt 'n' burn, ready?" Already knowing the answer, Sam started to walk towards the front door to get into the fresh night air.
"Hell yeah I am, that bitch is going to burn, putting me inside that wall, I'd wish I could burn her twice, no ten, no a hundred times and then I'd…" Ignoring Dean's comments about how many times he would like to kill the spirit, Sam silently walked over to the car, a big grin covering his unshared laugh.