You Look At Me, But You Don't See Me

by Kerri B

An innocent statement becomes Dean’s worst nightmare. Changed in a way he’d never expected, Dean takes off. Sam waits for Dean’s promised return only to find that what he was looking for was in front of him the whole time.

1. Chapter 1

Title: You're Looking At Me, But You Don't See Me

Author: Kerri B.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Sadly, owning Sam, Dean, Jensen or Jared, is not something I can be thankful for this Thanksgiving. Oh well. There's always Christmas. . . But until then: Supernatural is still not mine.

Summary: An innocent statement becomes Dean's worst nightmare. Changed in a way he'd never expected, Dean takes off. Sam waits for Dean's promised return only to find that what he was looking for was in front of him the whole time.

Timeline: set Season Three, after The Kids Are All Right but before Bad Day At Black Rock, so everything before that is fair game to spoilers.

AN: I've had this story in my head for too long and really needed to get it written out so that I could stop thinking about it. I'm mostly focused on writing my Doppelganger story, so this one might be slow with updates. The good news is that the entire story is written in my head from beginning to middle to end. I just need to sit down and actually write it all down. The beginning of this chapter is pretty rough so please hang on to the end of it before you dismiss the story

Chapter One

Good Intentions Always Backfire

It wasn't my fault.

Seriously.

Not. My. Fault.

First off, is it too much to ask for people to mean what they say? Comon, how can anyone -not just myself- follow along if the person talking isn't shooting straight?

I guess I get why he was having problems in the first place...

Now, I know he probably lays all the blame at my feet but he should really take some of the credit for what happened.

I was trying to help. The problem is, I made some...assumptions -and we all know what assume stands for.

Yes, I've made other mistakes over my long life, but this certainly takes the cake.

In hindsight, it's so easy to see where I went wrong. First, as I already said, I made inaccurate suppositions. But it was the second thing that was my critical, and possibly fatal, error.

I messed with a Winchester.

Trey POV

The moment he laid eyes on the two men sitting in the corner of the crowded bar he could almost literally see the tension radiating off them. While he couldn't hear what they were saying, it was obvious they were arguing.

He'd noticed them when they'd first walked into the Kountry Bar earlier that evening. He turned around and asked the bartender, Jeff, if he knew them. "Never seen 'em before, Trey." he'd been told. "But Mary said there were a couple of reporters in town investigating the Perry deaths. Might be them."

His interest piqued, Trey watched them as they sat in an almost hidden corner and started talking in hushed tones, despite the noise of the bar.

Years of living had made Trey a good judge of character, and he could say with almost no doubts that they weren't reporters.

A while later one of them, a blonde with a cocky bounce in his step, left to get a drink. He was soon distracted by a buxom red-head, who zeroed in on the newcomer at first sight.

His attention moved to the tall brunette that was still sitting at the table. The man was watching his partner with irritation and... worry.

When the blonde finally returned to his seat, brunette said something that immediately made the other glare at him. From there it digressed into the heated conversation Trey was witnessing now.

Finally the taller man threw his hands up the air and got out of his seat to glower down at the blonde sitting coolly across from him. The man raised his voice loud enough so that even Trey could hear,

"Fine, don't talk to me. If fact, why don't we just stop talking to each other at all. I'm sure that'll help solve our problems." He turned around and left the bar like a dark cloud.

The blonde sat there silently for a long time, his gaze distant and closed off, before he got up and went up to sit at the bar.

Hesitating only a moment, Trey moved and sat next to him.

After a few drinks, he finally looked over at the man staring broodingly at the shot glass in his hand. "Girl problems?" He asked.

Turning the man snorted, "Sort of. More like brother problems."

"Names Trey," he said.

"Dean," the stranger answered, also omitting a last name.

"Your brother the guy yelling at you back there?"

"That would be him." Dean agreed.

Now that Trey had a chance to really look at Dean he noticed immediately the weary lines creasing his forehead, and the way he slumped over his drink seemed to imitate Atlas holding the world on his shoulders.

"So, what happened?" Trey asked cautiously.

"If you don't mind," Dean said gruffly. "I'd rather keep it to myself."

Trey nodded amicably and turned back to his drink, though his thoughts remained on the man beside him. Since the two brothers had entered the bar, he had noticed a character difference in them right away. While this man, Dean, had acted care-free with a 'don't give a crap what you think' attitude, his brother, the brunet, seemed more reserved, quiet, and - if he trusted instinct - scared. And now that the brother was gone, Trey watched the near instant transformation in the dirty blond, as he changed from flirty and dangerous to worried and dejected.

"I don't get what he wants from me." Dean suddenly blurted out, causing Trey to slightly jump in his seat. He turned once again to face the frowning man.

"What?" Trey asked, unsure if he actually heard him speak, or if he just wished he did.

"I just don't know what he wants." The man reiterated. "Or maybe it's not that I don't know, it's that I can't give him what he wants. I mean, I'm here if it's something serious, but. . ."

"But what?"

"But that's not good enough for him." Dean said quietly. "He wants to. . . talk. He wants to care, share, and. . . and cry!" The last was said with a trace of disgust.

"So?" Trey encouraged.

"I can't do those things." Dean bemoaned, scowling at his drink.

"Why not?"

Dean looked up, "Because I can't. I'm just not wired that way."

"What guy is?"

"Sam is." Dean mumbled.

Trey frowned for a minute, the two names: Sam and Dean- striking a feeling of something he felt he should remember, but shrugged it off as paranoia. "You wish he wasn't?""

"I don't know. Maybe." Dean took a deep swig of his amber colored drink and banged the glass down on the bar counter before shaking his head with trepidation.

"He and I... we've had a rough year, more like years really. One thing after another, it just kept piling up. It seems that every day was bringing something to add to our misery. I guess we ended up just working to survive it all, never really dealing with any of it. And now it's all caught up with him. So he wants to fix everything and he just doesn't see that he can't. And I know it's hurting him that I keep shutting him out.

And I want to talk, but can't. Because he can't handle the truth. He says he wants me to tell him what's going on with me, but when I even try he freaks out." Now that Trey had got him talking, it was as if whatever secrets lay under the man's tough exterior couldn't remain silenced and were bleeding out.

"I've told him I'm tired. Of this life, of not knowing where I'll be next week. I just want it all to end. But I can't stop because people are counting on us. On me. And so is he. He looks up to me and I can't let him down. Not again. If he knew everything, if I let him know how close I am to just falling apart..." Dean broke off and cleared his throat.

Trey couldn't think of anything to say. Instead he waited. Finally the other man quietly began speaking again. "The kid needs to toughen up. Get past denial and let things go."

"Sounds like this sort of thing happens a lot." Trey observed.

Dean stiffly turned towards Trey and blinked twice before nodding. "Well you're right. Anytime something happens that doesn't fit into Sammy's 'World of Perfection' he turns it into a problem that would require Oprah and that Phil guy to figure out and set to right. He expects me to do the same thing but I just. . .well, I can't. I just don't get the kid."

"Do you want to? Relate to him, that is." Trey asked slowly, signaling Jeff over and holding up the appropriate amount of fingers for two more shots. This guy sounded like he could really use some help, and lucky for him, Trey was just the guy who could.

Dean gave a small smile. "Yeah. I really wish I could."

Inside, Trey was delighted. It wasn't often that he ran across a chance to really help somebody. Well, somebody who wasn't an annoying selfish bastard anyway. So not often. Jeff poured the drinks and Trey gave him a ten. Thirteen seconds later and Dean was holding the shot glass.

Had Dean been paying attention, he would have noticed that when Trey handed the bartender the money, he fingered the ring sitting subtly on his hand and cut his thumb on a small sharp spoke sticking out from the center. Carefully, Trey had waited for a small drop of the shimmering crimson blood to fall into Dean's drink and dissolve before handing it over.

"Thanks." Dean said, visibly cheering up from his earlier gloom at the friendly gesture but before he had a chance to take a sip, Trey quickly said:

"So, about, you know, relating to your brother and stuff. Any idea on how that could happen?" He waited, knowing that with his power and the tie of the blood now in the man's drink, whatever Dean said next related to this subject would come to pass. It was the best way he could help. No sense in assuming you know what is best for somebody when they can say it themselves. . .

Dean paused and thought for a second before shaking his head. "Like I said, understanding Sam would be great. It would save me from thousands of one sided arguments for sure,"

Trey waited, waited for the words that would help bring the brothers closer together, with only him to thank.

"But honestly, I don't think it's ever going to happen," Dean continued, "The chick-flick moment he wants will happen the day I turn into a girl."

Trey felt his blood freeze, figuratively, and mouth drop open in silent horror as Dean lifted his shot and tapped it against Trey's, before bringing it to his lips and downing in one gulp what was now enchanted blood and alcoholic.

He knew the moment Dean's answer was sealed when he felt his grey eyes burn bright in an immediate glow. Trey almost lost his grip on the glass in his hand.

A girl?

A girl?

Eyes back to normal, he stared at Dean in shock. But when Dean looked over at him with a small smirk, he quickly masked the reaction. He gave a small laugh, "That's the best you could come up with? You have serious problems, my friend."

"You have no idea," Dean returned.

And I'm pretty sure you have no idea what you just got yourself into, Trey thought. This had most definitely not gone like Trey had planned. Obviously he hadn't thought this whole thing through. Honestly, who would have thought that this would be the man's first solution. Of all the things Trey imagined this man would say, that was not it. He could have said something like them finding a common interest, or even something drastic like one instantly becoming tougher or more sensitive. Not changing gender! This- this was bad.

Dean was grinning when he lowered the glass to the counter and saw Trey's face. "Dude, you okay? It was a joke. Seriously, I like being a guy."

"Hm? Oh, right." Trey slowly worked his jaw till words came out. "Right. I know that. A girl." He gave a weak laugh. "Wouldn't that be funny though?" It ended up coming out more as hopeful than questioning.

Dean cocked his head to the side. "Meh, probably not."

Dammit. Grimacing, Trey turned back to the untouched drink in his hand.

Watching Dean out of the corner of his eye he waited. It took a few moments before anything happened. If Trey hadn't been looking for it he probably would have missed the subtle shaking that began in the other man's hands then slowly picked up intensity, working up the arms.

- - -supernatural- - -

The Winchester name has come in and out of 'office' talk for twenty some years, but it's these last two years that it's been the buzz of the watercooler. Most of it has centered on the youngest of the Winchester men, Samuel, and what a high ranking demon wanted with him. I however have been more interested in what I've heard of Sam's older brother, Dean.

First off, no supernatural entity of any kind would ever want Dean on their ass. He's a lethal hunter whose spent his entire life since age four waging the war against evil. Dean might not have exceeded his father, John, with the unforgiving, relentless vengeance part, but more than made up for it with a fierce determination to save others from having to see the darkness that exists in this world.

But it's the newest tidbit I heard from one my cousins - a Trickster-, who found out from a Reaper, who talked to a low-raking demon spawn... you know how gossip gets around. Anyway, Dean has earned a respect from me that I rarely give a hunter.

Apparently all the new demon activity which I've been observing with distaste is the result of the Winchester brothers final battle with ol' Yellow Eyes himself. While I'm cheering the utter destruction of the demon lord -ding dong the sonuvabitch is dead- I'm NOT at all happy that more of the black-eyed SOB demons are running around.

Freakin black-eyed nuisances!

While 'supernatural' doesn't mean evil necessarily, I willingly admit that I'm in the minority of 'non-human-harming' beings that currently inhabit this plane of existence.

And what am I exactly? Personally I prefer to describe myself as part Trickster, part Djinn, and part pure fun.

Unlike Tricksters, I don't go around and use my 'talents' for my amusement, playing malicious games with humans. And unlike Djinns I don't create alternate realities in their head -not to mention the whole blood drinking thing...

But now I've gotten completely off track. Back to Dean Winchester and my stupid mistake involving him...

Dean POV

Honestly, Dean didn't know why he was talking to this guy. Maybe it was because Trey seemed genuinely friendly, and it had been a while since he'd come across someone that gave a crap about someone else.

He'd intended to just ignore Trey and drown in his own misery, but then his mouth just wouldn't stay shut.

"I've told him I'm tired. Of this life, of not knowing where I'll be next week. I just want it all to end. But I can't stop because people are counting on us. On me. And so is he. He looks up to me and I can't let him down. Not again. If he knew everything, if I let him know how close I am to just falling apart..."

He hadn't meant to say as much as he had, Dean could almost kick himself for revealing so much to a complete stranger. Clearing his throat he finished. "The kid needs to toughen up. Get past denial and let things go." Let me go.

"Sounds like this sort of thing happens a lot." Trey said.

Glad that at least the other man wasn't looking at him like he was pathetic- a look he'd been given too often, he jumped on the statement. "Well you're right. Anytime something happens that doesn't fit into Sammy's 'World of Perfection' he turns it into a problem that would require Oprah and that Phil guy to figure out and set to right. He expects me to do the same thing but I just. . .well, I can't. I just don't get the kid."

"Do you want to? Relate to him, that is."

Of course he did. Didn't he? Him and Sam were brothers and they knew pretty much everything about each other, but sometimes Dean was sure that there were just some things that they would never able to understand about the other.

Like why Dean had sold his soul. Like why Sam couldn't accept what was going to happen in a year.

It wasn't ever going to happen, but Dean truly wished there was a way...

"Yeah. I really wish I could." he admitted, feeling almost silly that he was confiding this to someone he'd never met before a few minutes earlier.

Trey just smiled and handed him a shot. "So, about, you know, relating to your brother and stuff. Any idea on how that could happen?"

How about when hell freezes over. Dean thought, but refrained since the guy was just trying to help. But Dean had already tried to find some way to get his brother to understand why he'd done what he did. Nothing had worked so far.

"Like I said, understanding Sam would be great. It would save me from thousands of one sided arguments for sure," he began. "But honestly, I don't think it's ever going to happen. The chick-flick moment he wants will happen the day I turn into a girl." Bringing the shot up he clinked it against Trey's and took a large gulp.

"That's the best you could come up with? You have serious problems, my friend." Trey laughed.

Dean smiled. "You have no idea."

Nope, there was just no way. Sam was never going to get what had made Dean give up everything for him. And Dean sure wasn't understanding why Sam couldn't see that he was never going to be free of his crossroads deal. Both of them would have to just deal with it.

Like you did tonight? The irritating voice in his head, sounding suspiciously like Sam, asked. Damn, it always talked to him at the most inconvenient times.

Looking over at Trey he noticed the guy was looking at him with a weird expression on his face. "Dude, you okay? It was a joke. Seriously, I like being a guy."

"Hm? Oh, right. Right. I know that. A girl. Wouldn't that be funny though?"

Considering it, Dean tilted his head, trying to imagine what him as a girl would look like. Unable to come up with anything that would translate his sheer sexiness he finally shook his head. "Meh, probably not."

Still, the idea was sort of funny. Dean began trying to picture Sam as a girl, inwardly grinning.

Lost in thought he barely noticed when the tremors started in his limbs. It wasn't until he felt the sharp pain in his leg, the mother of all muscle cramps, that he realized something was wrong.

"Shit," Raising the trembling hand, he rubbed eyes that suddenly had become blurry. Got to get out of here, he thought dizzily.

Muttering something - probably incomprehensible - to Trey he got off the bar stool and stumbled his way to the men's bathroom in the back.

Den pushed the door open and nearly ran to the first stall. The first wave of nausea hit him just as he fell to his knees and leaned over the porcelain toilet.

It seemed like hours before he finished retching, even though it was probably closer to minutes, but finally he felt it was safe to raise his head. Wiping his mouth with his shaking hand Dean realized there was no way he was going to be standing up, not with his head spinning fast enough put laps on a Top.

Shit. This was just what he needed to make this day even crappier.

Reaching for the cellphone in his pocket, he brought it out and tried to read the screen through bleary eyes. Dean scrolled down his contacts list until he finally found Sam's name. He started to push the Call button when he hesitated.

Sam was just going to love this. After his storm off from the bar earlier, his younger brother was not going to be sympathetic to Dean's misery.

His pause cost him making a decision as the leg cramp from earlier returned, this time bringing friends.

Dean groaned as his entire body felt like it had been stabbed with hundreds of hot pokers. The phone dropped from a hand that jerked painfully.

Curling in on himself, Dean clenched his jaw trying to ride out the pain.

But it only became worse. It wasn't long before he seemed to lose control of his entire body. It jerked and writhed, even his head felt like it was on fire. He wanted to scream, but found that he couldn't. His world narrowed down until it was consumed only by agony.

Finally, mercifully, he felt himself fall into blissful darkness

- - -supernatural- - -

It wasn't the fact that Dean and Sam managed to kill their arch-nemesis that surprised me. It was that Sam was alive. This came as a mild shock since, as far as I knew, he was dead.

The talk was that a whole bunch of 1983 kids had up and disappeared over the last few months. Sure, people vanish without a trace all the time. But how many of them can electrocute another person with one touch?

Admittedly I've known a few dozen over the centuries, but it isn't that common. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Telekinesis, Visions, Persuasion, Super-Strength...the list goes on. Think Heroes and X-Men- except it's real.

The sad part is that despite these amazing abilities, all those kids had no chance of survival. Brought together in small groups at a time, the newly dubbed 'special children' were forced to fight for their lives. The winner's prize? To be named the leader of a demonic legion.

According to ratings this twisted version of Survivor - Death Match Style- beat America's Next Top Model for demonic viewing by a landslide. Just shows how far the supernatural community had fallen. As for me, I've always had a suspicion Tyra Banks is demon-possessed, but I have yet to get close enough to Christo her.

Even though I never took an active part in the drama unfolding in Cold Oak, I kept tabs on the current winners. Ava Wilson was the favorite for the longest time, but then came word that in a shocking 'finale' a soldier named Jake was crowned Next Demon Leader. This made many furious since most had money and souls on either Ava or Samuel, according to my Trickster cousin who is also quite the bookie. Not that any of this is important now.

The point is Jake won, all the other special children were dead, including Sam Winchester.

Trey POV

Still sitting Trey waited until Dean had disappeared in the door marked 'men's' before banging his head against the bar counter three times hard.

Oh shit. What was he supposed to do?

Face him?

Run?

Run. Running sounded good.

But how could he leave this guy to a fate like that without some sort of explanation?

Trey barely registered when the red-head who'd been all over Dean earlier came over and sat down next to him.

She was talking to him, asking him something. Probably wanted to know where Dean was, he thought. Not quite ready to talk, he shrugged noncommitedly and she left with a huff of irritation.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have used the blood binding spell without knowing what the man was going to say? Something like turning into a girl!

The internal battle that had been raging inside his head for the last few minutes was brought to a halt when a loud screeching pierced through the music and normal sounds of the bar. People nearest the noise looked over at the bathrooms, where the sound was coming from, startled by the high pitched shriek. After a few moments the sounds died down.

Trey saw Jeff begin to make his way to investigate.

Decision made, he downed the shot in front of him and got up. Cutting off Jeff, he tilted his head and signaled he'd check it out.

Preparing himself for the inevitable sight, Trey pushed open the door.

He found Dean in the center of the small room, staring in the grimy mirror in front of him.

Trey hesitated a moment, unsure of what to do now that he was faced with the consequences of his lapse of judgement.

Dean spun around, expression filled with horror, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!"

Shit. Running had probably been the better idea.

- - -supernatural- - -

For most people, dead is dead. There's no coming back from it.

Not so much for those that know anything about the supernatural underworld. Unfortunately there are ways to get around the whole dead thing. Of course, it always has a price. A very steep price.

It never ceases to amaze me what people will give for their own success and happiness. Their greediness and obsession with the here and now has tarnished my view of humanity in general.

But then some go and show that there is some hope for them yet. They aren't after their own selfish desires, they put others before themselves more times than not.

Such is the case of Dean Winchester.

Taking a page from his fathers book, he did the unthinkable. Summoning a crossroads demon he made a deal with the red-eyed bitch. Sam's return to the land of the living in exchange for the only thing Dean had left to offer. His soul.

I realize many won't understand how much of a sacrifice this is, but I know full well.

It's not death that should be feared, it's what comes after. I know Reapers love to talk about the wonderful 'mystery' of what lies beyond but here are the cold hard facts: there are two ways you go - up or down. There's not need to go into what up means. It's down that should concern you.

Down is...hell. In most cases it should be enough to know you don't want to visit, much less spend eternity there. The fact that Hell's welcoming committee comes bearing whips and enough torture devices to put the Inquisition to shame should scare the bejeesus out of anyone.

And Dean signed up for this by his own choice, knowing better than most anyone what it would mean.

Centuries of observation have led me to believe that people truly don't realize how much their actions reflect their souls. Everything they do, everything they say or don't, it all shows what's in their soul: their spirit, their thoughts, emotions, and aspirations. It shows the ugliness and the beauty.

Dean POV

The first thing Dean became aware of was the feel of something soft and silky that was laying on his face. He brought up a hand and tried to brush it away but his hands seemed to get caught in whatever it was.

Groaning he opened his eyes. It took a few moments for his still foggy mind to comprehend what his hands had encountered.

Strands of dark blonde hair fell over his face and were entangled in his fingers. What the hell?

Dean frowned at the sight before groaning at the pain that tried to split his head in two. Oh great, how much had he drunk to be in this kind of misery?

Looking up he stared at the ceiling in an attempt to grounding himself while everything tried to imitate a merry-go-round. When he felt it was safe he let his eyes roam, trying to figure out his surroundings.

He was surprised to realize he was laying on the floor of a very dirty bathroom stall. How the hell had that happened?

Slowly, all the pieces that made up the night came together in his head. Coming to the bar, arguing with Sam, talking to Trey, passing out on the floor... It's just been a fun night so far, he thought sarcastically.

Dean cautiously pushed himself up, using the toilet for support. Everything spun around briefly before coming back into focus. He leaned against the wall on the left, his head tilted down. The thick blonde tresses he'd discovered earlier were brushing against his cheeks, trying to fall into his eyes.

Once again he touched them, willing to make sense of it somewhere in his tired brain. He got nothing. Dean sighed and rubbed his face with his right hand. Halfway down his face, he stilled as his mind registered that something felt...different. Pulling the hand away, Dean stared down at it.

Yes, it was definitely a hand. But it wasn't his hand. He should know...after all he knew the back of his hand like... well, the back of his hand. The hand he was staring at was too small, the fingers slender tipped by nails far too long. Dangling loosely around the fourth finger was a silver ring. His ring, but clearly not his finger.

He pushed off the wall almost frantically, needing to confirm the horrible thought that had been planted in his head.

Dean staggered out of the stall and made his way to the mirror that hung on the wall. Confused, and even though he'd never admit it, a little frightened, Dean felt his heart beating faster than was healthy.

In front of the mirror he paused, head down, unable to find the will to face what he might see. Maybe he really didn't want to know. The desire to go back into the stall and back to that quiet place where he didn't have to face reality was overwhelming.

Pull yourself together soldier. This time the voice was John's, commanding and brooking no argument. Face it like a man.

Taking a deep breathe, Dean obeyed and raised his eyes to meet the ones in the mirror. For a moment there was almost complete silence in the small room, the sounds of the bar outside the only thing to be heard. Then it was abruptly pierced by a loud shriek that rapidly reverberated against the walls, letting it carry outside so that all could hear.

It took Dean a moment to realize that he was the one making the sound before it tapered off into a mournful wail. The green eyes looking at him were becoming wider by the second, taking in the image in front of him.

Blonde hair, longer than he'd ever allowed it to grow, fell down just past his shoulders. The black shirt, the one that normally fit him perfectly, showing off his impressive physique, was now loosely draped over shoulders that were no longer broad.

Dean's pant were also loose. They were only staying up because of the curvy hips that he now owned. Unable to keep looking there, he moved his gaze up to what should have been his face.

Delicate features, pouting lips. God, his eyes were the only thing Dean recognized in the face opposite him. And even they looked different framed by the thick long - frickin' feminine- eyelashes.

He was looking at a stranger.

He was looking at a girl.

His breath began coming out in short gasps, and distantly Dean realized he was hyperventilating.

The sound of the door opening had him turning to see the man he'd been talking to him before everything had gone to hell.

Click. The pieces were suddenly fit together in Dean's head.

He had done this. He had turned Dean into...into a GIRL!

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!"

Trey's mouth opened but nothing came out.

"Oh, man, " Horror turned to fury as Dean's eyes narrowed dangerously, "You messed with the wrong Winchester."

- - -supernatural- - -

But all this brings me down to what I originally meant to say. I knew the Winchester name, I knew the stories and rumors surrounding it. The one thing I didn't know is what one looked like.

Unfortunately, I do now. And this particular Winchester is pretty pissed at me right now.

Which leads me back to my first statement.

It wasn't my fault.

AN: Okay, whatcha think? I'm not really happy with the beginning...I hate first chapters cause it always takes a while for me to get everything to flow right. I promise the next one will be much better.

If you didn't figure it out already, all 1st person parts are from Trey's POV. Also, Trey isn't a bad guy, just someone trying to help. It was my fault the plan backfired, not his. Lol. I plan on keeping him around. Kinda like... (is it weird the first analogy that comes to mind is Jiminy Crickett and Pinocchio - I blame it on too much time as a child wasted on Disney movies) anyway he's the guide that helps the victim (aka girl!Dean) along to the right path.

And I'm sorry Sam isn't in the first chapter, but we will be seeing him soon.

Despite the humor of the idea, I actually plan on this being a really angsty story. I figure the only way to get Dean and Sam to talk is for something extreme to happen. I'm pretty sure turning Dean into a girl is extreme. Right?

So be prepared for a lot of emotional baggage from AHBL and Dean's deal along with the funny.

As for what girl!Dean looks like, I'll leave that up to the readers imagination for now. Suggestions are welcome if anyone has a picture or an actress in mind.