Title: Door To Door

Main Characters: Sam, Dean

Secondary Characters: John

Spoilers: This was inspired by a certain scene in Crossroad Blues, (you'll probably be able to figure out which one by the time you are done reading, lol) but it takes place pre-series, so there are no spoilers. :)

Summary: A practical joke leaves Dean with a useful new skill.

Disclaimer: I wished I owned Supernatural, but I don't. I'm allowed to dream though, aren't I, lol? ;)

A/N: This fic is dedicated to JaggerK, for taking the time to review on my website, and for requesting another humor fic. :) Also for my grandfather, who inspired Dean's prank at the beginning with one he used to teach someone a lesson many years ago. :)

A/N2: For anyone reading, "In The Hands Of Time," I promise, I haven't forgotten that story. Life has just been crazy, and I haven't been able to update. I hope hoping to be able to get back to it after Christmas. Thank you so much for being so patient with me. :)

Door to Door

Pranks were something Sam was used to. After all, being on the road so much usually meant you had to make your own entertainment, and where Dean was concerned, that entertainment often came at his little brother's expense.

But, even Sam had his limits.

Now, one thought, and one thought only, echoed repeatedly in thirteen-year-old Sam Winchester's mind: Dean was sooo gonna pay for this.

Apparently, the older Winchester had thought that, since their dad was away on a hunt, it would be fun to see what happened if he sewed all the pant legs of Sam's jeans shut. He'd left a few pairs untouched, but of course, he had deliberately chosen the ones that, due to Sam's most recent growth spurt, were four inches too short. Needless to say, that had resulted in a very embarrassing day at school.

Any retaliation meant that their prank war was probably only going to escalate, but this was something Sam couldn't let Dean get away with. So, as Sam sat, meticulously cutting his brother's surprisingly neat stitches, he began trying to plot his revenge.

He wanted it to be something Dean wouldn't see coming…something, preferably, that meant his older brother would think twice before pulling another prank on him.

But what could he do? Tie his shoe laces together?

Sam shook his head. That wasn't good enough. Dean was nearly impossible to sneak up on, and the chances of that plan actually succeeding were pretty small.

Put a snake in his bed?

Nah, too unoriginal. Besides, on a hunt, Dean faced far worse without blinking. Sam doubted that a snake was going to scare him.

Paint polka-dots on the Impala?

He rejected that idea almost immediately. As much as he wanted revenge, Dean loved that car, and little brother or not, Dean would probably kill him if he did anything to it.

"Sammy, dinner's ready!" Dean's voice announced from the kitchen, drawing Sam from his thoughts.

He stifled a sigh at the nickname. "I'll be there in a minute!" he called back.

Sam pulled the last few stitches from the pair of jeans he was working on, and set them down on his bed, examining his handy work. Three down, two to go.

As if Dean had somehow read his mind, his foot steps sounded outside the door a moment later.

"Dude, aren't you done yet? I didn't think my stitches were that good."

For once, Sam found himself grateful for the old house they were renting. It may not have been in very good shape, but it did have one redeeming feature: all the doors locked on both sides, which meant he didn't have to see Dean's self-satisfied smirk.

Wait a minute, Sam thought with a grin, that gave him an idea.

The next morning, Sam woke up an hour early.

He wouldn't have minded sleeping in a little, but getting up before his brother was a key part of his plan. He slipped from his bed silently, for once glad that he'd paid attention to his father's lessons on stealth.

Dean stirred as Sam walked by, his hand tightening slightly on the hilt of the knife he kept beneath his pillow, but he didn't wake. It seemed that Dean's subconscious mind didn't view his little brother as a threat.

Oh, how wrong he was, Sam thought.

Being careful not to make any noise, Sam quickly got ready for school, shrugging on his clothes, organizing his stuff, and grabbing a quick breakfast of fruit. When that was finished, he checked on Dean to make sure his brother wasn't showing any signs of waking.

He smiled.

Dean was still asleep.

It was time for phase two.

Sam searched the house, quietly and methodically removing anything that could potentially be used to pick a lock until he was sure there wasn't so much as a single paperclip left. He grabbed an empty shoe box he'd found the night before, and stashed his findings in there, then promptly put the box in his backpack. He figured taking it with him to school was probably the safest bet.

Once that was done, Sam crept carefully to their bedroom door and reached for the handle, slowly pulling it closed. Using the key, he locked the door with a soft click, then listened a moment for any sign that the small noise had woken his brother.

Silence.

He smiled to himself, then continued, moving systematically throughout the house, quietly locking doors as he went. Finally, he reached the front door. He grabbed his stuff, locked the door behind him, and walked down the front steps. Throwing the keys into his backpack, he paused, basking in his success.

The windows in the old house had been painted over so many times that none of them opened, and even if Dean somehow managed to get out of their room, he still had all the other doors to worry about.

Sam grinned.

Revenge was sweet.

As soon as Dean woke, he knew something was wrong.

First of all, it was way too quiet.

His little brother's bed was empty, which, in and of itself, wasn't unusual, but the fact that he didn't hear Sam moving around in the kitchen made Dean wary.

And secondly, the door was closed.

That sent all sorts of alarms blaring in Dean's mind.

They weren't the something-supernatural-is-going-on-and-Sam-is-in-danger warning bells either, but rather the Sam-is-more-sneaky-than-you-thought-and-just-got-you-back-big-time bells.

Frowning, Dean pushed himself from the bed, carefully studying the room for anything out of place. Satisfied that everything was where it was supposed to be, he made his way cautiously towards the door, and slowly reached forward to turn the handle.

It didn't budge.

He tried again, this time throwing more of his weight against the door.

Nothing.

Alright, that was it. As soon as he found a way out of their room, Sam was sooo gonna pay for this.

The question was…how exactly was he supposed to get out?

Dean smirked. Well, that was easy. He'd just pick the lock.

He walked over to the dresser where he remembered seeing a paperclip the night before, and started searching through the papers he had piled there. But, when he reached the bottom of the stack and there was still no paperclip in sight, he realized that his smart little brother was already one step ahead of him. It was probably pointless to look for anything else, either.

Okay, so picking the lock is out, Dean thought in frustration.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

There had to be some way to get that door open.

Wait…

He paused, a sudden idea coming to mind.

Maybe he could…?

Dean shook his head.

No, that only worked on TV.

But, then again, he didn't really have any other options. Besides, the house was already falling apart, and when their dad came back from his hunt, he probably wouldn't notice if the doors were a little messed up, too.

Dean shrugged.

It was worth a shot.

Taking a deep breath, he charged.

Sam sat outside, waiting for the first bell. He'd walked to school, but their house wasn't very far away, so he'd still gotten there pretty early.

He grinned for what felt like the hundredth time that morning.

Dean was probably up by now. Sam could just imagine the look on his brother's face when he realized how Sam had gotten him back, and laughed out loud at the thought of Dean frantically searching the room for a paperclip.

Oh, if only he could be there to see it…

"Something funny, little brother?" a voice asked from behind him.

Sam froze. "Dean?" he asked slowly.

"Hey, Sam," his older brother greeted causally, moving to sit down next to him.

"How…how did…how did you get out?"

Dean just smirked. "I have my ways."

One week later, Sam was still trying to figure out exactly how Dean had gotten out of the house. The windows were all still intact, and the walls didn't have any new holes to speak of. He was absolutely sure he hadn't missed anything that had even the smallest chance of being used to pick a lock, and since their dad had just gotten back three days ago, there was no way that he could have let Dean out…

"Sammy, would you hurry up?" he heard his father loudly call from the living room.

Sam sighed. Their dad had heard about a rumored haunted house in town, and wanted to check it out. Solving the mystery of Dean's escape would have to wait.

"Yes, Sir," he answered resignedly, stifling yet another sigh as he grabbed their duffle bag of weapons. Sam slung the pack over his shoulder, and trudged out to the car to put the weapons in the trunk.

He watched their dad do a last minute check of the house, and frowned when the front door emitted a loud creak of protest as their dad tried the lock.

That's weird, Sam thought. The place was in terrible shape, but he didn't remember the front door being that bad. He looked suspiciously at Dean, but before he could question him, their dad had finished his inspection, seemingly satisfied that the door would hold well enough for the time being. He walked over to the car, slipping easily into the driver's seat, and started the engine.

A few minutes later, they'd reached the house their dad had heard about. It was old and worn-down, with ugly, peeling, green paint, and broken windows that looked like someone had used them for target practice. Sam wasn't surprised that the place had been labeled as haunted.

"Ready, boys?" their dad asked.

"Yes, sir," they answered simultaneously.

Weapons in hand, all three Winchesters moved quickly up the walk, their dad at the front, Dean guarding the rear. As soon as they reached the porch, they headed for the entrance.

"Door's locked," their dad announced a moment later, reaching for his lock picking set.

"Wait, Dad, I've got it," Dean offered.

Sam was surprised when Dean didn't go for his own lock picking tools, just squared his shoulders and kicked. The door flew open, a small cloud of dust disappearing into the night air.

Both Sam and their dad looked at Dean in shock.

Sam sighed.

So, that was how Dean had gotten out.

Fin

Please review and let me know what you thought. I would be very grateful… *attempts Sam's puppy-dog eyes*

Thanks for reading!

Ani-maniac494 :)