A/N: Oooookay, so with all the angst and brothers leaving each other and stuff I really needed something to cheer me up. This is absolutely just a crack!fic with not significant meaning at all. I wrote it for my best friend ko-chan who needs some cheering up at the moment and I really hope she likes it. This is not beta-read so any mistakes would be my own. But I blame everything on too much coke and no sleep at all. I'm innocent, really, I am!

Hope you enjoy!

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Batman

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It was Dean's voice that woke him in the middle of the night. Not because the noise he had made had been particularly loud or even alarming but simply because it was completely not-Dean-like. His brother had a variety of sounds he uttered; some of them annoyed the hell out of him, others he'd rather never hear at all if he could help it and some were just… not like him at all.

"Ouch!"

Somewhere between a yelp and a screech – a screech, for Pete's sake! – the "word" came out of the darkness next to him, rousing him from a way-too-short night's sleep. Sam fought hard to crack his eyes open and blinked about groggily, searching the room for his brother's familiar shape.

"Whassit?" he managed to croak and tried – he really did – to lift his head.

Dean was on the bed next to him, groping around in the semi-lit room for something. A second later, and without any warning at all, the lamp on the nightstand came on, blinding both of them. Sam groaned in protest and slumped back onto his pillow, burrowing his face as deep as he could to escape the light. Six hours of hiking to where the ritual had been held (and back!) AND fighting off the worshippers in one night had him fall asleep on his bed before his head had even hit his pillow. And he had no intention of getting up again anytime soon. He could hear his brother moving around next to him, covers rustling as he got off the bed and took a few, tentative steps into the middle of the room.

"D'nean?"

Dean didn't answer but continued to move around. "Son of a bitch!" he growled only seconds later.

Then there was quick movement, another pained curse and Sam took a deep breath, did a mental count until three and lifted his head, squinting into the bright light to find his brother standing on the far side of the room, eyes fixed on something on the wall. He was holding another something in his hand, looking for all the world as if he was going to throw it at whatever he was seeing. As Sam could not really bring his eyes into focus he couldn't make out either of it.

"Wha' ah ju doin?"

Dean ignored him, took a deliberately slow step towards the wall and then lunged, the quick movement so unexpected for his still half-asleep brother that Sam winced in surprise and then blinked rapidly to clear his vision. "De—"

"OUCH!"

The screech again, louder this time, and far more irritated. Dean was cradling his right hand to his chest, growling low under his breath as his gaze followed whatever as it seemed to be moving about the room. Following Dean's gaze Sam came to the conclusion that it had to be flying somewhere along the ceiling. His instincts kicked in then and he fought off the sleepiness, sliding out of his bed next to Dean.

"What is it?" he mumbled and took a step behind his brother, covering his back as Dean slowly advanced on the bathroom door.

"The sonuvabitch bit me…" Dean growled back and Sam frowned. Dean's body language told him that his brother was pissed but he wasn't acting as if they were in any imminent danger, more like he was getting really annoyed about something, as in dude-could-you-be-more-gay-about-something-that-really-gets-on-my-nerves-annoyed.

"Bit you?" Sam echoed, puzzled, his searching gaze sweeping the dark corner a few feet next to the bathroom door. Dean didn't bother to answer, he suddenly took another lunge forward and threw the towel – a towel?! - he had been holding at the corner. Something hissed and then there was a small shadow which moved across the room at a great speed, heading towards the window. Dean exploded into action, going after it in an instant, leaping across Sam's bed and then on top of his own.

THUD!

Even from where he was standing at the other end of the room Sam could hear the sound of something solid hitting the glass full force. The shadow hung in the air for a second, unmoving, before it slowly slid all the way down to the windowsill where it landed with another dull thud. And stopped moving at all.

Dean took a slow, cautious step towards it, ready to defend himself should he need to.

"Dean…" Sam started nervously, eyeing the "thing" suspiciously. His brother held up a hand to keep him back and leaned towards the sill, eyes focused warily on the shadow.

"Stay back, Sam," he started, then cocked his head und got even closer. "What the…" He broke off and his shoulders relaxed as he gave a small chuckle.

Sam still couldn't make out no more but a dark shape against the white sill and he slowly approached his brother. "What is it?" he asked again.

Dean shook his head slightly and straightened, shooting him an amused grin over his shoulder. "It's a bat, Sam."

Sam blinked, then frowned, walking over to him and taking a closer look at the dark shape. The small animal was lying on its back, the thin wings spread out on either side. The tiny hind legs were sticking out of the black fur, pointing upwards, miniscule claws visible at their ends. There was no movement at all and it was too dark to see if the beast was still alive. Dean gave another chuckle and shuffled towards the light switch, mumbling under his breath, "I can't believe I got bitten by freaking batman…"

The ceiling light came on and Sam squinted his eyes a little at the bright light, his gaze still lingering on the animal.

"Is it dead?" Dean asked and Sam thought he actually sounded kind of guilty. But then one of the claws twitched and flexed slowly, trying to find something to hold on to and as Sam watched the tiny animal started moving, squirming helplessly on its back.

"No, it's not dead, but I don't know if it's hurt… Give me that towel."

Dean frowned, then raised an eyebrow at him and went over to where he had thrown the towel. "Dude, you're Dr. Dolittle or something?" he grumbled, but nevertheless picked up the towel and tossed it over. Sam caught it and turned back towards the bat, draped the cloth over the writhing animal and carefully picked it up. The bat instantly tried to squirm out of the towel and hissed furiously at him.

"Easy there…" Sam mumbled, watching as the little creature shook its head. For just a second it almost looked as if it was trying to clear it and then ---

"Uhm… Dean…" he trailed off, not sure if he had actually seen what he thought he had seen.

His brother was picking up the covers from the floor. "Hm?"

"I… uhm… I could have sworn…" he started again, then froze. "Dean."

Dean looked up and found his brother staring at the towel in his hands, an almost funny look of utter bewilderment on his face. The hissing had stopped and the bat was silent but something kept Sam's gaze glued to it.

"Sam? What is it?"

"Dean… the bat… it glared at me…" Disbelief coloured his voice and Dean couldn't help but stare at him.

"It – what?"

Sam gave him a helpless look, then his gaze flickered back towards his hands. "It glared at me."

"Dude?!"

"Yeah, like – it squinted its eyes and --- and then --- there, did you see that?" There was a slight note of panic creeping into his voice and Dean frowned and slid onto the bed next to him, reaching out towards the towel.

"Bats don't do that..." he started but then he got a good look at the beast and it was indeed staring at him, right into his eyes, two tiny, black eyes that fixed his gaze with a dark frown. He might have even heard a growl from beneath the cloth but he wasn't sure because then Sam almost dropped the towel with the bat that had just opened its mouth to say something.

"Shaggy-me let go of Mikey."

Both men froze at the strange voice for a moment, then Dean reached out and snatched the towel and the bat from Sam's hands, brought both up to eye-level and hissed at the creature.

"Christo!"

Sam blinked, twice, then stared at him, mouth hanging open for a moment, before his brain caught up and he whispered, "You think it's possessed?!"

Dean just shrugged at him and kept his gaze on the bat which in turn kept staring at him, frown deepening dangerously. "Christo-me let go of Mikey." It pronounced the words with emphasis and its voice actually got darker… if something like that could be said about a talking bat.

"Get me my gun…" Dean said, without taking his eyes off the animal. It took Sam a moment to comprehend what his brother had just said and he looked at him incredulously.

"You're gonna shoot it?"

"You wanna sit down and have a chat?! It's a friggin' talking bat, Sam, that's not normal!"

"Well, I know it isn't, but you can't just shoot it, Dean…"

It was Dean's turn to glare – at his brother – but then his eyes widened almost comically and he yelped in pain, dropping the towel and once again cradling his hand against his chest, staring down at it. "SONUVABITCH!"

The towel came to life and moved across the bed, then landed on the floor. Then there was the sound of tiny wings flapping across the room and once again the shadow was sailing towards the window.

And then it disappeared. Just like that.

Sam blinked. And blinked again. "Where…"

Dean kept staring at the point where the bat had disappeared, then slowly lifted his gaze towards his brother. "A talking ghost-bat?"

Sam just stared at him, then at the window, then back at his brother. "I have no idea… you wanna… want me to do some research?"

Dean looked at him, took in how his brother was almost asleep on his feet and shook his head. "No, I—no, just go back to sleep."

Sam nodded and crawled back into his bed and by the time Dean had settled comfortably between his covers again it seemed like his little brother had already fallen asleep again.

Until…

"Dean, about that sound you made?"

"What sound?"

"The girly-one that woke me up."

"I did not—"

"Oh yeah, you totally did."

"Saaaaam…."

"Did too."

"Shut up."

"Sounded like a screech—"

"Shut UP."

"Totally like a—"

"Sam, I swear, if you don't shut your mouth—"

"Bitch!"

"Oh, for the love of—just shut up."

"Night, Dean."

"Jerk."

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The end?