[Supernatural] "Hammock Comedy!" (PG)
Aug. 13th, 2012 11:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mtxref_ficAuthor's Note: Written for Supernatural, Sam/Gabriel, hammock And the motel where this is set actually exists (or at least it did, back in the early 1990s, when my family visited Bennington, VT.)
The motel that they'd settled in for the job -- dealing with poltergeist activity on a farm in Bennington, Vermont, was surprisingly comfortable, with individual cabins standing alone with their own deck chairs and hammocks outside rather than units set together side by side in the same building.
Sam was ready to take full advantage of these amenities: it wasn't often they found a place as nice as this, where he could think for a change, without Dean making use of the usual embarrassing amenities.
He was just laying back in the hammock, and he was about to shift and draw up his feet, when the hammock flipped over, dumping him onto the grass, with a startled grunt. Okay. It had been a while since he'd last lain in a hammock, and he was out of practice.
He picked himself up, brushed the grass off his shirt and climbed back into the hammock. This time, it spun around once before he fell flat on the grass, face down.
"Whut the--" he muttered, spitting grass and dirt, before crawling out from under the hammock and looking around. Had Dean come and flipped him over, the way he'd done when Dean was ten and Sammy was eight? It was the sort of thing he'd do, even now.
He thought he saw an iron lawn deer that he didn't remember seeing before, but that might not mean anything. Might.
He climbed back into the hammock yet again. But just as he was settled, the hammock suddenly spun around, over and over again several times, as the hammock wrapped itself around him like a spider web of ropes.
It stopped only when he was wrapped up completely, unable to budge. Which was when he spotted the lawn deer again. Only this time, it stood closer to the hammock.
"Gabriel! Get me out here, now!" he snapped.
The hammock started to untwist itself, just as violently as before, until it dumped him on the grass again.
"You might wanna be more specific about *how* you get out," the lawn deer said.
The motel that they'd settled in for the job -- dealing with poltergeist activity on a farm in Bennington, Vermont, was surprisingly comfortable, with individual cabins standing alone with their own deck chairs and hammocks outside rather than units set together side by side in the same building.
Sam was ready to take full advantage of these amenities: it wasn't often they found a place as nice as this, where he could think for a change, without Dean making use of the usual embarrassing amenities.
He was just laying back in the hammock, and he was about to shift and draw up his feet, when the hammock flipped over, dumping him onto the grass, with a startled grunt. Okay. It had been a while since he'd last lain in a hammock, and he was out of practice.
He picked himself up, brushed the grass off his shirt and climbed back into the hammock. This time, it spun around once before he fell flat on the grass, face down.
"Whut the--" he muttered, spitting grass and dirt, before crawling out from under the hammock and looking around. Had Dean come and flipped him over, the way he'd done when Dean was ten and Sammy was eight? It was the sort of thing he'd do, even now.
He thought he saw an iron lawn deer that he didn't remember seeing before, but that might not mean anything. Might.
He climbed back into the hammock yet again. But just as he was settled, the hammock suddenly spun around, over and over again several times, as the hammock wrapped itself around him like a spider web of ropes.
It stopped only when he was wrapped up completely, unable to budge. Which was when he spotted the lawn deer again. Only this time, it stood closer to the hammock.
"Gabriel! Get me out here, now!" he snapped.
The hammock started to untwist itself, just as violently as before, until it dumped him on the grass again.
"You might wanna be more specific about *how* you get out," the lawn deer said.
