The Journal of Sam Winchester

(not Sammy)


i'm plastic to the right, i'm plastic to the left
Sam Winchester psychic_wonder
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Room 328, Saturday Morning *rock music plays*
Sam had the feeling that something was wrong as soon as he woke up and realized that his arms and legs weren't hanging off the sides of the bed. Instead, he was in a gigantic bed! With a gigantic girl! And he couldn't see Dean anywhere!

Thankfully, he wasn't wearing the sacrificial underwear. He just hoped Dean wasn't wearing it instead.

[Sam has also been plasticed, and is now the size of your average Ken doll. *g* Open for the girlfriend!]

Dawn was still asleep, or at least mostly. She snuggled into the warm, comfy--heywaitaminute. She sat up, blinking blearily. "Sam? Where'd you go?"

This was the perfect chance for an escape, Sam realized. He tried to shimmy further down in the bed, hoping to slip under the sheets, and turned and twisted to figure out which way to go...and promptly got himself tangled up.

"HELP!"

Oh, good. It was going to be one of those days. Dawn threw the covers back as she made sure her T-shirt (or Sam's T-shirt, if you wanted to be picky) was covering everything it was supposed to be covering, and glared down at the end of the bed. "What the hell?"

Sam stopped flailing around once he was free, but didn't stop scooting towards the edge of the bed. "If you lay a finger on me, my brother will kill you. With guns. Really awesome guns."

No. No, no, no, no, no. "SAM?"

Sam threw his hands up and tried to cover his ears. "Yes! You don't need to yell!"

"Ohmigod." Dawn wasn't sure whether to start laughing or crying, but settled on some heavy duty giggling until she came to a final decision. "You're so short. And your hair."

Way to ignore the plastic part, Dawn.

"I'm not short!" Sam protested. "You're some kind of crazy giant girl who's taken me back to her secret giant lair and is probably going to try to eat me on some giant plate. And there's nothing wrong with my hair either, it's awesome."

"Fine," she decided to let him figure this out for himself, "I'm a crazy giant girl who has a crazy giant lair, but I'm not that hungry right now. As soon as you figure out how to get down and open the door, you can go. You might want to try to find Dean. I'm sure he's worried."

Also, he'd never forgive her if she didn't send Sam his way.

"You're just going to let me go?" Sam asked. "There's got to be some kind of a trap." Sam looked around, and noticed the huge dog sleeping on the floor not far from the bed. "Oh, I get it. I jump off the bed, and if I survive, I'll get fed to your pet. Very sneaky, giant girl."

Dawn peeked over the side of the bed and grinned when she spotted Scout, who was probably just as confused as she was. "Scout doesn't like the way plastic tastes, I don't think. I could lock him in the bathroom, if you wanted?"

This was contrary to what she wanted, which was to have Scout up on the bed for snuggling and giggling purposes, but it would do.

That might make her move closer to him, which Sam didn't think was a very good thing at all. "No, that's okay," he said, moving backwards again. "You just stay right where you are and--"

With all the talking, Sam had stopped looking behind himself, and didn't realize he'd reached the end of the bed until he backed up and fell off, yelling and flailing the whole way down.

"Ow. Stupid floor."

Edited at 2008-01-19 03:58 pm (UTC)

She peeked over the edge of the bed, laughing outright now. "You okay? Scout, stay."

"Fine! I'm fine!" Sam said. "I meant to do that, because I've escaped your clutches now!"

Moving as far from the dog as he could, Sam made a flailing, scampering beeline for the door. It wasn't until he got there that he realized exactly how high up the door handle was.

"I really wish Dean was here."

Dawn was very interested to see how Sam would solve this problem and watched him avidly. "He's up a floor. Shouldn't be hard to find him."

"You know where he's being held?" Sam asked. "Is he okay?"

"I don't think he's being held, unless it's by Meg," she smirked, "so yeah, he's probably fine and making breakfast for everyone."

"Oh, I see. This is all about keeping us as slave labor, isn't it?" Sam looked back over towards her. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to open the door?"

"Should have cut a doggie door," she said under her breath as she climbed out of bed and went to open the door. "You and Dean would be the worst slave labor in the history of ever, Sam. You guys suck with authority and following directions."

"Hey, I'm good at following directions when Dean gives them," Sam said. "What makes you think you know so much about me?"

"Um, maybe because you told me?" The dumbass was silent, but there. She figured the plastic had eaten his brain.

"Oh, great," Sam muttered. Crazy giant girl must have drugged him or something. "How much did I tell you? Did I mention the clown thing? Or the underwear?"

"The clown thing I know about," she nodded, then looked at him funny. "What about the underwear?"

Sam gave a mini-flail. "Nothing! I said nothing!"

"Awww, c'mooooooon," she whined wheedled, "You can tell me! Who'm I gonna tell?"

"All your giant friends! None of them should know about the sacrificial underwear."

Oh, for a recording device. Dawn was laughing pretty hard now and couldn't wait to tell Dean. Or maybe Alec. "Sac--sacrificial underwear???"

"Um. It's purple and gets put on us when people want to kill us," Sam explained. "I end up wearing it a lot more than Dean for some reason."

That was it. Dawn suddenly had to sit down because she was laughing so hard. "You have specific underwear for that??? In purple??"

She was so dyeing his underwear someday when she got bored.

"It's not our choice!" Sam exclaimed. "And it's not funny!"

"It's just because it's your underwear. Trust me, to me, it's hysterical. Um, would you prefer a different color?"

"No, the purple makes us look kind of hot," Sam admitted.

Purple it was, then. "Wait, you share underwear with Dean? Ewwwwwww."

"We don't mean to share it! But we don't exactly get a choice," Sam explained.

"You gotta admit, it's still kind of gross," she told him. "But, at least you've got warning? I mean, if you look down at yourself and see the undies of gross wrongness, you know it's gonna be a bad day."

"Exactly. So today's not going to be so bad. For me, at least," Sam said. "I don't know about Dean."

"Oh, I figure his day'll perk right up as soon as he sees you," she grinned at him.

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