Sam was used to weird. Being the person that he was, thrown into the life that he had finally up and accepted as his own, Sam kind of had to be used to it. But this thing with his brother was another matter entirely. There was weird. Then there was weird. Slow-dancing with aliens, evil Santa Claus, the outfit that Lady Gaga wore at the MTV music awards weird. Dean Winchester was claiming to be a chipmunk, whereas Sam...well. He was kind of hoping that this was some kind of terrible practical joke. It wouldn't have been too surprising, considering Dean had been screwing with him not too long ago. First with the clowns, then his iPod. Pretending to have been turned into some small animal, only to traumatize Sam as a result almost seemed like something that Dean would try and pull off. Nonetheless, Sam didn't want to take any chances. If Dean was trapped in a rodents body, that meant he'd be pretty damned useless. He couldn't provide food for himself if he was trapped in his apartment. It wasn't like he could skitter across the kitchen, hop up onto the mile high counter, and then pull open a refrigerator door that his paws would have probably been a million times too tiny for. And what if he was locked inside of just one room? That was even worse.
Anxiously, Sam immediately made way for the apartment complex. Once he reached Dean's apartment, he picked his way through the lock (it wasn't like he could ask Dean to open the door if he was a friggin' chipmunk) and carefully stepped his way inside. It took Sam longer than expected to find Dean hiding away in his bedroom - Sam hadn't been entirely sure on whether or not Dean was wandering around the apartment, so he had made a point in moving around slowly and cautiously, that way if Dean was actually a chipmunk (dear God, he was kind of hoping this really was a stupid prank) Sam wouldn't accidentally step on him or something as equally horrific. He probably would have looked kind of silly to anyone had they been watching too - eyes glued on the ground close to his feet, Sam lifted his feet up high and set them down slow, arms stretched out awkwardly on either side of himself to keep him from losing his balance in the process. It was annoying, sort of, looking like a five year old playing some kind of watch-where-you-step game, but it was important. Not squishing Dean was important, so Sam had to watch every single step that he took until he found him.
When he realized that Dean wasn't lurking in the kitchen or any of the other open spaces within the apartment, Sam immediately made way for the bedroom. "Uh, Dean?" His voice echoed throughout the room as he moved inside, attention automatically fixing itself onto the bed. Empty, save Dean's tangled blankets and sheets. Sam looked down and started walking. Elbows out, steps slow - wait. Sam paused, one foot hanging in the air. He awkwardly leaned back and looked back toward the door, the tiny squeaking sound that had erupted quick to draw in his gaze.
There was, in fact, a chipmunk perched on the floor.
"...Dean?" Sam's eyes went wide and a hand went to the top of his head. "This - you're not really..." Sam turned a little, stepping carefully, and glanced around the bedroom. There was no Dean jumping out from behind the bed or out of the closet, declaring that his brother was an idiot for falling for his jokes. No. Nothing but the tiny, little chipmunk sitting by the doorway. "Holy crap. I didn't really think...you're a - how did...?"
There was no way this was happening. Dean, his big brother, was a chipmunk. Smirky, loud-mouthed, wisecracking Dean, with his stupid mullet rock obsession and...and no. "Can you talk?" Sam's brow furrowed. "Can you even understand what I'm saying right now? Maybe I should..." Taking care not to step too close to what Sam was already half convinced was actually Dean, Sam lowered himself onto the carpet and sat down. "Better?"