Aaaaaargh the plot bunny attacked me in the shower and won't leave me alone getitoff getitoff getitoff OHGOD ITS TEETH ARE IN MY LEG AAAAAAARGH GETITOFFMEEEEEEEEE!

TITLE: I Gripped Him Tight

RATING: T. Just in case.

BLAME: Sleep deprivation. Plot Bunnies. Global warming. Artificial colourings and additives. I really should go to bed.

It had started off so well: some down time between Hunts, to wind down, and catch a breath...

It was a beautiful day. The lake was picturesque, the small jetty was isolated and peaceful. He had beer in the cooler, a line in the water, and he'd had a couple of bites already. Why Sam would want to spend a day like this indoors, poring over dusty old books, where the librarian wasn't even hot, was beyond him. Maybe his little brother was an alien. Maybe he was a robot. Maybe he was a pod person. Maybe he had never recovered from the nasty dose of Education he'd suffered in his late teens and early twenties...

Dean sighed, adjusted the ridiculous hat on his head, and opened another beer. Life was good.

Until he managed to knock his tackle box into the water. Without even spilling his beer. Damn.

Fortunately, it remained upright and floated. So all he had to do was reach down, and grab it, if he could just get a hand to the handle on the lid...

"Aaaaaargh!" He slipped. He splashed. He thrashed. He cursed.

Flap-flap

...oooooOOOOOooooo... ...oooooOOOOOooooo... ...oooooOOOOOooooo...

Flap-flap

"Hello, Sam."

"Yikes!" Sam had returned to their motel and just put down the cup of coffee he'd just made, in preparation for settling with a book, when Castiel suddenly appeared much closer than human custom dictated was appropriate. "Jesus, Cas, how many times... huh?"

Sam's eyes boggled. Castiel was holding Dean by the scruff of his shirt. Dean was soaking wet, and dripping on the carpet, a mournful look on his face. He still clutched his beer bottle. He gave his brother a sheepish little wave. "Hi Sammy."

"I have brought your brother back. He should change out of his wet clothing before he resumes his angling. I must go now. Goodbye."

Sam's mouth opened and shut a few times. "Er, Cas, what the hell just happened?"

The angel turned a serious expression to Sam, and answered briefly before disappearing.

"I gripped him tight, and raised him from perch fishin'."

Pray to your gods (or even to the Living Sex God, if you must) that the plot bunnies go away...