Big Splat | Smurfs
Title: Smurfy Day for an Adventure
Prompt: #15 Smurfs
Character/Pairing: Dean Winchester and the Smurfs
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2451
Summary: Dean finds a surprise behind a tiny door in the bunker.
Authors Notes/Disclaimer:
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Dean slowly walked around what he’d dubbed their living quarters in his head trying to think of the best way to spend their first honest-to-god day off in months. It had been a while since they spent time down in the shooting range. It was Wednesday so, the cheap theater in town would be swapping the movies out. He tried to think if there was anything coming out that either one of them wanted to see. If there wasn't, Sam would suggest the alehouse. They always played sad black and white subtitled films on Wednesday afternoons. That would always be a hard pass for him.
Sam would no doubt have some boring assed nerdfest of weirdness planned for them. He doubted it would be anything he was interested in. Dean wished he could get Sam as interested in picking up all of his crap, as he stepped over a pile of notebooks that Sam had neglected to pick up.
The first thing that he needed to take care of was breakfast. He didn't want to go out and have to hassle with getting dressed and finding a place they both agreed on. Lately, it seemed as though they either ate deep-fried yumminess or Sam's “we're healthy so, we can live to be a hundred and three” crap. Like any hunter ever lived to be that old. He was sure there must be a few, but he was willing to bet his last stash of Johnnie Walker that they weren't getting happily ever after with it.
After walking into the kitchen he realized any plans for breakfast would have to be delayed. Every available surface was covered with crap. Sam's giant soup bowls with handles that he swore were really coffee mugs all had various amounts of crud growing in them. He counted eight bowls that he knew he didn't use. They were from the ugly set they had found in the back of one of the cabinets. Sam had loved that they weren't the sturdy white ones that Dean used. Sam complained that they made the coffee and food taste like bad diner food. The only thing that would've come closer to their childhood flatware would've been if they had a set like Bobby's.
A quick ham and cheese sandwich and a bottle of water later, he decided that he wasn't going to clean Sam's mess this time. The only way that was going to happen was if he was nowhere to be found.
There were still parts of the bunker they had yet to explore. He decided there was no time like the present to work on that. It would be nice to have first dibs on any cool shit he found.
The first room he found was stacked to the ceiling with what he assumed was broken odds and ends. There were a few vintage radios that he thought could be worth something, if he could fix them. There were a few kitchen items that might be handy, if they were fixable. If they weren't, he bet there was someone collecting retro kitchen gadgets somewhere. A quick peek in the closest boxes revealed it was all household items.
The next one was smaller but just as stuffed with old trunks. The first couple he opened were filled with broken rosaries. He felt bad for whoever had the job of fixing them, until he realized that now it would be either Sam or himself. He knew from experience that they tended to stick together worse than fine chains tossed in a jewelry box. He wasn't in the mood to catalog religious cast-offs.
The next room was even less interesting, yet it did make him wonder why the men of letters had kept a room filled with linens so far from the living quarters and the laundry room. It wouldn't take long for them to fix that.
The next one was one of the best ones he'd found so far. It rated right up there with the shooting range and the garage. It really should have been connected to the garage. He wondered what the hell the Men of Letters had been thinking when they first moved into the bunker. The room had a few dozen toolboxes that he would have to come back later to sort through. After a quick walk-through to check the boxes, he thought they must have spare parts for all of the classic beauties in the garage. He wondered who actually did the upkeep on them; he doubted the Men of Letters were getting their hands dirty. Maybe they were wrong and the cars belonged to the hunters of the time. Either way, he knew he would be spending as much free time as he could out in the garage with all the neglected girls that were stashed in there.
In the next three rooms he tried, the lights didn't work, so he decided to skip them. He would drag Sammy along later to change the bulbs. After finding out the wicked witch had been stashed in a bottle with Dorthy, he wondered what else they had hiding in the lesser-used rooms.
"Dean, come on man, where are you?" he heard Sam yell. Dean knew that from Sam's tone, he was coming in the right direction to find him. The damn kid always was too smart for his Dean's own good.
A few feet down the hall, he spied a door that looked out of place. It would've looked out of place anywhere. It was much smaller than a regular door, but larger than a rat hole. Not to mention it was a real freakin' wooden door. He squatted down and saw it had hinges and a brass old-fashioned knob on it. There was a mini alcove not far from it and after a quick inspection, he found an apothecary jar filled with what looked like blue raisins and an extremely tiny antique skeleton key.
"Dean, I made plans for us today," Sam was definitely getting closer.
Dean looked at the key and the door before grabbing the jar of dried blue things. If it was good enough for Alice, he thought before he snatched the key in one hand and crammed a fist full of the blue things in his mouth with the other.
Whatever they were, they were not raisins. After a few moments, it felt as if they were bouncing around his stomach like industrial-strength Pop Rocks. Just when the popping felt like he was going to explode, he felt his eyes roll back into his head and everything went numb, just before he crumpled to the floor.
When he could stand, he noticed the tiny door was no longer tiny. He was grateful he'd thought to keep a hold of the key when he saw how high the ledge was where it sat before he grabbed it.
"Dean, stop being an ass," Sam was definitely getting closer. He quickly unlocked the door and rushed through it before Sam could spot him.
"Smurf me," Dean spun around and saw a little blue creature.
"Excuse me?" Dean asked.
"We thought all of you died off years ago," it explained.
"All of them?" Dean wondered aloud.
"Men of Letters you are one right? I've never seen one look so smurfy," it shrugged it's tiny shoulders before turning and walking away.
"Hey, where are ya going?" Dean called out as he hurried to catch up. He was not used to being in a body that small and it took a bit of an adjustment to make it work.
"You came to see Papa?" it asked without even bothering to look back.
"Yeah, sure," Dean assumed that was why the others had bothered to come here and decided to find out why.
"Oh, who is this?" A new creature asked. This one was a girl. She had long blond hair and wore a white dress and a little white shoes with the tiniest of heels.
"He's the new Men of Letters," Dean's original tour guide explained.
"So they didn't die?" She sounded surprised. "I'm Smurfette and this is Hefty. I bet Papa will be smurfed to see you," She smiled.
"I'm Dean. Nice to meet you," he nodded at each one.
"Smurfette, we don't have time for this, we have to see Papa," Hefty rolled his eyes and started walking away again.
"We could've had a small visit," she sounded disappointed.
"You could come with us, Sweetheart," Dean winked and then walked off to catch up with Hefty.
They walked for another five minutes or so Dean thought, before they stopped before a clearing.
"Do you think he ate enough?" Hefty asked Smurfette.
"He must have to been able to find us," she said.
"Did I eat enough what and why does it matter?" Dean didn't like how serious they sounded. It reminded him of all the times he played drunk to get the locals to play pool with him. He really hated being the mark.
"Smurf berries. If you don't eat enough and try to get through the barrier it could hurt you," Hefty shoved him forward without warning.
Dean landed on his ass before he could even ask what the hell a smurf berry was. A quick glance around and he realized he was in a cluster of mushrooms. He was even more confused than he was before.
"Hefty Smurf, where have you been? Papa has been looking for you. He even sent Smurfette out to find you and she never came back. You know Papa always says that punctuality is next to smurfiness," a weird little smurf with glasses lectured them.
"Brainy, we have to go see Papa," Smurfette grabbed Dean's hand and pulled him down a little path.
"Papa always says..." Brainy sounded like he was still in lecture mode to Dean. he'd listened to enough of Sam's over the years. A moment later, he watched as Brainy went flying through the air landing just ahead of them.
"Did Hefty toss him?" he wondered aloud. Dean wasn't sure if he should be worried or jealous that he hadn't thought of it first.
"It's the only way to get him to stop," Smurfette called back as she skipped ahead of him.
"Seems harsh," he mumbled.
"You try listening to him for over five hundred years and see how long you last," Hefty jogged up to them.
"Tell me my little Smurfs, who is this?" The newest smurf wore a red outfit, unlike the others that were dressed in white. He also had a beard that even Santa would be jealous of.
"Dean Winchester," Dean waited to shake his hand.
"I'm Papa. You must be one of the Men of Letters. We haven't seen any of you in smurfy time. We feared something had finally destroyed all of you," Papa began to walk towards one of the giant mushrooms.
"So tell me what are you researching? Do you have any background? What is the timetable for this thing? I know lives hang in the balance, but we've never worked with you so if we're being honest, I would like to have a little extra time," Papa led him into a room stuffed with books and beakers.
"I'm not researching anything. Today was a rare day off so I decided to spend it exploring the bunker. Are you telling me the Men of Letters used to come here for help? You helped them solve cases?" Dean was confused.
"Oh, sure whenever they ran across what they called 'real old-world magic' they would come to me for a spell or two to help fight it. You do have someone that can wield magic in your bunker now, don't you?" Papa asked him.
"Not one that is that good," Dean admitted.
"You can always come to me for advice. It was always nice to have a visit from one of you," Papa offered.
"Thanks. I will have to convince Sammy to come back with me next time," He thought it might be funny to watch Sammy shrink down to smurf size.
"Speaking of Sammy, I bet he's getting worried about me. I should probably head back home. That reminds me how long will I remain this size? Am I going to just sprout up here if I wait too long to leave?" He couldn't shake the feeling that he would just pop back to his normal size and burst through the mushroom destroying the man, er, smurf's home.
"When you pass through the doorway, it will happen. When you walk through one side and you shrink and on the other, you grow. You need to eat the smurf berries to activate the magic," Papa explained.
Dean thanked him for his offer and promised to come back soon. He was surprised to find Smurfette waiting outside Papa's house.
"Were you waiting for me?" he grinned at her.
"I thought you might want company while you go back to the magic door," she giggled.
"That would be nice. Maybe you could tell me more about what's like here?" He asked her.
It didn't take long for her to tell him about the evil wizard, Gargamel and his equally evil cat, Azrael. It sounded like an interesting place.
"Jokey Smurf, you will not give him an exploding box," Smurfette scolded the smurf that was standing by the door.
"This is not from me. This box has a present from Baker Smurf," he shoved a box at Dean. He peeked in the box and saw the most beautiful slice of pie he'd ever seen.
"Thanks, man. This looks great," he demolished the pie slice in three bites and said his goodbyes before stepping out the door.
The moment he did, he felt the familiar popping feeling deep in his gut. This time the transformation didn't seem as harsh.
Once he could stand, he noticed Sam was there and looking at him like he had three heads. "What happened to you?" Sam asked him.
"I had the freakiest experience. Let's go grab some food and I'll tell you about it," Dean started to walk back down the hallway.
"We better call for delivery and keep you out of sight," Sam countered.
"What? Why?" Dean asked.
Sam stopped at the end of the hall and gestured to where a large old mirror still hung on the wall.
"It was the pie. That damn Jokey Smurf or maybe it was Baker Smurf. Either way, they will be sorry," Dean promised as he stared at his own blue reflection and looked back at him.
He and Sammy were going to spend the day dealing with the Smurfs whether Sam wanted to or not.
Prompt: #15 Smurfs
Character/Pairing: Dean Winchester and the Smurfs
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2451
Summary: Dean finds a surprise behind a tiny door in the bunker.
Authors Notes/Disclaimer:
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Dean slowly walked around what he’d dubbed their living quarters in his head trying to think of the best way to spend their first honest-to-god day off in months. It had been a while since they spent time down in the shooting range. It was Wednesday so, the cheap theater in town would be swapping the movies out. He tried to think if there was anything coming out that either one of them wanted to see. If there wasn't, Sam would suggest the alehouse. They always played sad black and white subtitled films on Wednesday afternoons. That would always be a hard pass for him.
Sam would no doubt have some boring assed nerdfest of weirdness planned for them. He doubted it would be anything he was interested in. Dean wished he could get Sam as interested in picking up all of his crap, as he stepped over a pile of notebooks that Sam had neglected to pick up.
The first thing that he needed to take care of was breakfast. He didn't want to go out and have to hassle with getting dressed and finding a place they both agreed on. Lately, it seemed as though they either ate deep-fried yumminess or Sam's “we're healthy so, we can live to be a hundred and three” crap. Like any hunter ever lived to be that old. He was sure there must be a few, but he was willing to bet his last stash of Johnnie Walker that they weren't getting happily ever after with it.
After walking into the kitchen he realized any plans for breakfast would have to be delayed. Every available surface was covered with crap. Sam's giant soup bowls with handles that he swore were really coffee mugs all had various amounts of crud growing in them. He counted eight bowls that he knew he didn't use. They were from the ugly set they had found in the back of one of the cabinets. Sam had loved that they weren't the sturdy white ones that Dean used. Sam complained that they made the coffee and food taste like bad diner food. The only thing that would've come closer to their childhood flatware would've been if they had a set like Bobby's.
A quick ham and cheese sandwich and a bottle of water later, he decided that he wasn't going to clean Sam's mess this time. The only way that was going to happen was if he was nowhere to be found.
There were still parts of the bunker they had yet to explore. He decided there was no time like the present to work on that. It would be nice to have first dibs on any cool shit he found.
The first room he found was stacked to the ceiling with what he assumed was broken odds and ends. There were a few vintage radios that he thought could be worth something, if he could fix them. There were a few kitchen items that might be handy, if they were fixable. If they weren't, he bet there was someone collecting retro kitchen gadgets somewhere. A quick peek in the closest boxes revealed it was all household items.
The next one was smaller but just as stuffed with old trunks. The first couple he opened were filled with broken rosaries. He felt bad for whoever had the job of fixing them, until he realized that now it would be either Sam or himself. He knew from experience that they tended to stick together worse than fine chains tossed in a jewelry box. He wasn't in the mood to catalog religious cast-offs.
The next room was even less interesting, yet it did make him wonder why the men of letters had kept a room filled with linens so far from the living quarters and the laundry room. It wouldn't take long for them to fix that.
The next one was one of the best ones he'd found so far. It rated right up there with the shooting range and the garage. It really should have been connected to the garage. He wondered what the hell the Men of Letters had been thinking when they first moved into the bunker. The room had a few dozen toolboxes that he would have to come back later to sort through. After a quick walk-through to check the boxes, he thought they must have spare parts for all of the classic beauties in the garage. He wondered who actually did the upkeep on them; he doubted the Men of Letters were getting their hands dirty. Maybe they were wrong and the cars belonged to the hunters of the time. Either way, he knew he would be spending as much free time as he could out in the garage with all the neglected girls that were stashed in there.
In the next three rooms he tried, the lights didn't work, so he decided to skip them. He would drag Sammy along later to change the bulbs. After finding out the wicked witch had been stashed in a bottle with Dorthy, he wondered what else they had hiding in the lesser-used rooms.
"Dean, come on man, where are you?" he heard Sam yell. Dean knew that from Sam's tone, he was coming in the right direction to find him. The damn kid always was too smart for his Dean's own good.
A few feet down the hall, he spied a door that looked out of place. It would've looked out of place anywhere. It was much smaller than a regular door, but larger than a rat hole. Not to mention it was a real freakin' wooden door. He squatted down and saw it had hinges and a brass old-fashioned knob on it. There was a mini alcove not far from it and after a quick inspection, he found an apothecary jar filled with what looked like blue raisins and an extremely tiny antique skeleton key.
"Dean, I made plans for us today," Sam was definitely getting closer.
Dean looked at the key and the door before grabbing the jar of dried blue things. If it was good enough for Alice, he thought before he snatched the key in one hand and crammed a fist full of the blue things in his mouth with the other.
Whatever they were, they were not raisins. After a few moments, it felt as if they were bouncing around his stomach like industrial-strength Pop Rocks. Just when the popping felt like he was going to explode, he felt his eyes roll back into his head and everything went numb, just before he crumpled to the floor.
When he could stand, he noticed the tiny door was no longer tiny. He was grateful he'd thought to keep a hold of the key when he saw how high the ledge was where it sat before he grabbed it.
"Dean, stop being an ass," Sam was definitely getting closer. He quickly unlocked the door and rushed through it before Sam could spot him.
"Smurf me," Dean spun around and saw a little blue creature.
"Excuse me?" Dean asked.
"We thought all of you died off years ago," it explained.
"All of them?" Dean wondered aloud.
"Men of Letters you are one right? I've never seen one look so smurfy," it shrugged it's tiny shoulders before turning and walking away.
"Hey, where are ya going?" Dean called out as he hurried to catch up. He was not used to being in a body that small and it took a bit of an adjustment to make it work.
"You came to see Papa?" it asked without even bothering to look back.
"Yeah, sure," Dean assumed that was why the others had bothered to come here and decided to find out why.
"Oh, who is this?" A new creature asked. This one was a girl. She had long blond hair and wore a white dress and a little white shoes with the tiniest of heels.
"He's the new Men of Letters," Dean's original tour guide explained.
"So they didn't die?" She sounded surprised. "I'm Smurfette and this is Hefty. I bet Papa will be smurfed to see you," She smiled.
"I'm Dean. Nice to meet you," he nodded at each one.
"Smurfette, we don't have time for this, we have to see Papa," Hefty rolled his eyes and started walking away again.
"We could've had a small visit," she sounded disappointed.
"You could come with us, Sweetheart," Dean winked and then walked off to catch up with Hefty.
They walked for another five minutes or so Dean thought, before they stopped before a clearing.
"Do you think he ate enough?" Hefty asked Smurfette.
"He must have to been able to find us," she said.
"Did I eat enough what and why does it matter?" Dean didn't like how serious they sounded. It reminded him of all the times he played drunk to get the locals to play pool with him. He really hated being the mark.
"Smurf berries. If you don't eat enough and try to get through the barrier it could hurt you," Hefty shoved him forward without warning.
Dean landed on his ass before he could even ask what the hell a smurf berry was. A quick glance around and he realized he was in a cluster of mushrooms. He was even more confused than he was before.
"Hefty Smurf, where have you been? Papa has been looking for you. He even sent Smurfette out to find you and she never came back. You know Papa always says that punctuality is next to smurfiness," a weird little smurf with glasses lectured them.
"Brainy, we have to go see Papa," Smurfette grabbed Dean's hand and pulled him down a little path.
"Papa always says..." Brainy sounded like he was still in lecture mode to Dean. he'd listened to enough of Sam's over the years. A moment later, he watched as Brainy went flying through the air landing just ahead of them.
"Did Hefty toss him?" he wondered aloud. Dean wasn't sure if he should be worried or jealous that he hadn't thought of it first.
"It's the only way to get him to stop," Smurfette called back as she skipped ahead of him.
"Seems harsh," he mumbled.
"You try listening to him for over five hundred years and see how long you last," Hefty jogged up to them.
"Tell me my little Smurfs, who is this?" The newest smurf wore a red outfit, unlike the others that were dressed in white. He also had a beard that even Santa would be jealous of.
"Dean Winchester," Dean waited to shake his hand.
"I'm Papa. You must be one of the Men of Letters. We haven't seen any of you in smurfy time. We feared something had finally destroyed all of you," Papa began to walk towards one of the giant mushrooms.
"So tell me what are you researching? Do you have any background? What is the timetable for this thing? I know lives hang in the balance, but we've never worked with you so if we're being honest, I would like to have a little extra time," Papa led him into a room stuffed with books and beakers.
"I'm not researching anything. Today was a rare day off so I decided to spend it exploring the bunker. Are you telling me the Men of Letters used to come here for help? You helped them solve cases?" Dean was confused.
"Oh, sure whenever they ran across what they called 'real old-world magic' they would come to me for a spell or two to help fight it. You do have someone that can wield magic in your bunker now, don't you?" Papa asked him.
"Not one that is that good," Dean admitted.
"You can always come to me for advice. It was always nice to have a visit from one of you," Papa offered.
"Thanks. I will have to convince Sammy to come back with me next time," He thought it might be funny to watch Sammy shrink down to smurf size.
"Speaking of Sammy, I bet he's getting worried about me. I should probably head back home. That reminds me how long will I remain this size? Am I going to just sprout up here if I wait too long to leave?" He couldn't shake the feeling that he would just pop back to his normal size and burst through the mushroom destroying the man, er, smurf's home.
"When you pass through the doorway, it will happen. When you walk through one side and you shrink and on the other, you grow. You need to eat the smurf berries to activate the magic," Papa explained.
Dean thanked him for his offer and promised to come back soon. He was surprised to find Smurfette waiting outside Papa's house.
"Were you waiting for me?" he grinned at her.
"I thought you might want company while you go back to the magic door," she giggled.
"That would be nice. Maybe you could tell me more about what's like here?" He asked her.
It didn't take long for her to tell him about the evil wizard, Gargamel and his equally evil cat, Azrael. It sounded like an interesting place.
"Jokey Smurf, you will not give him an exploding box," Smurfette scolded the smurf that was standing by the door.
"This is not from me. This box has a present from Baker Smurf," he shoved a box at Dean. He peeked in the box and saw the most beautiful slice of pie he'd ever seen.
"Thanks, man. This looks great," he demolished the pie slice in three bites and said his goodbyes before stepping out the door.
The moment he did, he felt the familiar popping feeling deep in his gut. This time the transformation didn't seem as harsh.
Once he could stand, he noticed Sam was there and looking at him like he had three heads. "What happened to you?" Sam asked him.
"I had the freakiest experience. Let's go grab some food and I'll tell you about it," Dean started to walk back down the hallway.
"We better call for delivery and keep you out of sight," Sam countered.
"What? Why?" Dean asked.
Sam stopped at the end of the hall and gestured to where a large old mirror still hung on the wall.
"It was the pie. That damn Jokey Smurf or maybe it was Baker Smurf. Either way, they will be sorry," Dean promised as he stared at his own blue reflection and looked back at him.
He and Sammy were going to spend the day dealing with the Smurfs whether Sam wanted to or not.