Title: Agatha Chrisitie's Got Nothing On Me
Banner: Jen, thank you for helping to bring my story to life. That is what an artist does and I’m thrilled!
Original Prompt: Dean's Memory Foam Mattress Forgets Him, I didn’t know you could see that through a telescope
Synopsis: After a difficult case, a highly medicated Sam and Dean return to the bunker. When Dean realizes his beloved mattress has forgotten him, Sam decides to check the 'case' out by investigating like Agatha Christie, but his attempts are more Pink Panther!
Rating: PG for some words
1663 actual story words
Supernatural is not owned by me. It belong to Kripke and other letter of alphabet soup. No money is being exchanged as this is solely out of love of the show and characters
It was a dark and stormy night as the black beast prowled through the rain down the dark winding road toward home.
Inside two brothers were starting to recuperate from their last hunt for a rather vigorous poltergeist.
They had managed to send it on its way from the wine cellar it had been inhabiting, but unfortunately, for them, quite a few bottles of extremely rare wine had been destroyed in the process. Wine, which if anyone had noticed, had a rather unique stamp of ownership on them.
Shame ‘bout that.
Dean pushed his beloved Impala as fast as he dared on the return trip to the Bunker.
The poltergeist had rung Sam’s bell but good, resulting in a major concussion and a heavily medicated younger brother.
Usually, Sam just relaxed and slept while on the good stuff, but this time not so much sleep, but random babbling accompanied him on the trip home.
So far there had been a discourse on the evilness of ‘Paw Patrol’ cause only a sadist or demon could have come up with that one, a long diatribe on why Pluto was no longer classified as a planet and how sad that was cause maybe Uranus missed it, as well as miscellaneous remarks concerning Vikings discovering America, why were groups of cats called Clowders, why God invented the Platypus from leftover animal parts just lying around, unused diamonds in the rain on Jupiter and Saturn, with Dean’s personal favorite being questioning if the Lays commercial showing Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head eating Lays chips were them committing cannibalism?
Needless to say when they pulled into the garage, Dean was ready to put Sam to bed, take a shower and hit his memory foam mattress that remembered him.
Getting Sam to bed seemed easy enough as the younger Winchester practically jumped in his and promptly pulled the covers over his head all the while muttering about bananas in grocery stores being mutants.
Dean with one thing on his mental checklist down, scurried down the hall for a hot long shower before trudging off to sleep himself.
All was quiet in the Bunker…for now.
If Dean had thought to check on Sam before going to bed, he would have found his sibling trudging toward the kitchen like a drunken sailor.
Sam had woken hungry for donuts knowing deep within that Dean had them hidden somewhere.
He was hungry and dammit he wanted SUGAR!!! NOW!!!
As he tottered down the hall, his mind wandered back to diamonds on Jupiter and how it would be oh so helpful if he could figure out a way to get there and snatch a few bags full.
Thinking of being a space pirate and hunting space treasure reminded him of the treasure he was seeking: SUGAR!!!
A through search showed
Kitchen: No donuts
Garage: No donuts
Baby (Never to be admitted to calling her that out loud) No donuts
Storeroom, range, dungeon: Nothing
Shuffling toward the library, Sam came to a complete halt as he heard a sound that he had rarely heard in his life; Dean sniffling.
Ambling in, he realized the library needed searched for where Dean, his meanie brother, had hidden the donuts.
Looking up, he saw Dean looking out the bunker’s telescope, shoulders shaking and quietly crying.
Moving his hands up and down like scales, Sam debated whether to search for donuts or talk to Dean to see what was going on. Dean, donuts, Dean donuts…
Internally sighing, but still wanting SUGAR!!! He quietly approached his brother and asked what the problem was.
“Did you know if you think hard enough, you can see every bunker of the MoL, including what’s going on inside with this thing?!? I mean, I know these guys were here alone, but ….Tokyo seems the most normal, but man you do NOT want to know what they get up to in Rio! We gotta catch a case down there, Sammy!”
“I didn’t know you could do that with the telescope.” Not thinking of phallic symbols, not thinking of phallic symbols. It’s been way too long. “Umm, is that why you are, not crying, cause you don’t do that, but having problems with…allergies?”
“No, no, I’m okay. Just go on with what you were doing. And why are you out of bed? How are you even awake?”
There it was, thought Sam. Changing the subject to focus on me so we don’t have to discuss our bitty feelings.
Smirking, Sam let out a long, slow, whiny remembered from getting his way in childhood, “Ddddeeeeeaaaannnnn! Talk to me!”
Shoulders cringing from the ear piercing shriek that would have had cats worshipping in awe, Dean broke.
“It’s my mattress, Sammy! It’s my memory foam mattress!” Chest heaving, came the mournful words of, “Its forgotten meeeeee!”
“Huh? It’s a mattress, so how could it forget you?”
“I don’t know, Sam! It’s just hard and all the places that conformed to my body are now nonconformists! The little dips and pouchy out places are simply gone and I don’t understand why.
We, we had an understanding I thought. I loved my memory foam mattress and thought it loved me back! Did I offend it or upset it somehow?
I just feel so lost!”
Being the awesome younger brother he was, Sam offered to check out the bedroom for Dean.
Still distressed, Dean agreed.
Sam was thrilled because now he knew where the donuts were and Dean, well he’d given him the perfect reason to scope out the room and find the SUGAR!!!
Anyone walking the halls of the bunker would have seen a rather strange sight. A six foot four inch Sam trying to hide while peering around a door checking out his brother's room. With his head bent to the side, Sam didn't realize in his medicated state that hazel eyes looking into a room while trying to hide his rather large, but magnificent, body would be impossible to ignore.
If the one seeing this was already puzzled, what they saw next would have had them heading for a psych eval. Sam dropping to the floor and undulating much as a snake would, entered Dean's room and tried to sneak up on the bed. Under the mattress, around the mattress, prodding, pinching, and jabbing at it like a drunken boxer.
Finally Sam pulled himself to the side of the bed away from the door and raised his upper body to peer intently over the bed.
The mysterious watcher would have seen two wide pupiled eyes and a broad forehead staring intently around the room with a scrutiny usually reserved for dissecting how a bride looks on her wedding day.
Drawers were opened, closets checked, clothing inspected.
Dammit! No donuts.
Down the hall could be heard a broken voice muttering about a lost love and broken trust.
It was a strange time in the MoL Bunker.
In another part of the Bunker, a silent being watched the antics while laughing so hard her sides hurt.
Hearing an ‘Let me get your attention’ cough, she looked up into the amused face of one of her favorite relatives.
A simple raised eyebrow and her name “Aite “ saw her slumping down into the soft chair she was ensconced in.
With a sigh, she fessed up. “I’m sorry Bacchus, but seeing your personal wine destroyed upset me so much, I decided to do something about it. Nothing permanent. Just some retribution.”
Looking down at the young looking goddess, Bacchus, couldn’t help but smile. He missed her and since Zeus, in a temper tantrum, threw her from Mt Olympus he only got to see her every few hundred years or so on a trip to earth.
“Aite, blame the evil spirit, not the ones there to stop it. These two were saving lives, not acting as temperance agents. Please cease.”
“The Magicks will wear off with the sunrise, Bacchus. It’s nothing dangerous, just a little humiliation. I swear by Mt. Olympus.”
Quickly going through her memories, the older god realized she was being honest. “Very well, I’ll allow this to play out.”
Snickering, he added “Donuts? Really?”
“Wait til the morning.”
Quickly sending the two men off to a dreamless sleep in there own beds, the two watching sat patiently waiting for the morning sun to rise.
8AM came too quickly for the tired men after the busy two days they’d had. Both shuffled into the kitchen not exactly welcoming the new day.
As they sat drinking coffee, neither were aware of the strange dreams the other was dwelling on, but they definitely noticed the quick looks each gave the other when they thought they were not being observed.
Finally Sam broke the uneasy silence.
“So, I, uh had a really strange dream last night. I’m guessing it was the meds cause seeing you cry was really bizarre.”
An indignant Dean started. “Dammit Sam, I wasn’t crying!” Realizing what he’d admitted he tried to pass it off.
“It could have been allergies like you said, maybe dust from the telescope, reactions to your meds…I don’t know. I just know I. DO. NOT. CRY!”
Sccooooorrrrrreeee! Thought Sam as he smirked at Dean saying “So a shared dream? Dream walking? Trickster?”
Still wearing a deer-in-the-headlights look from admitting to crying, Dean mumbled something about getting dressed and, in a Dean Winchester, manly way scurried from the kitchen.
Giving a mental fist pump over getting one on his older brother left Sam feeling warm and tingly. Until…
“Sam, why in the hell are my clothes scattered all over my room? My drawers are all open and everything gone through!”
A moment of silence.
“And where in the hell are my donuts?!?”
Victory was Sam’s.
Two silent watchers observed the scene laughing and enjoying the antics of the younger brother.
Deciding it was time to go, they took their leave remembering to remove all traces of their passage.
They even remembered to take the popcorn.