Disclaimer: Eric Kripke is a creative genius of massive proportions and I can only hope to be like him someday. Too bad I already used my three wishes on nachos, a trip to Disneyland, and the eternal damnation of the Teletubbies…*laughs uncomfortably*
Warnings: Well, lemme see…um, S-L-A-S-H! And also, language from Dean and there may be some gore in later chapters, lemons & limes, and…Dean and Sam. Those two are sooo hot! Omigosh, I can't even...! *drools* I just wanna lick 'em and do…indecent things with 'em!
Dean groaned loudly as he flopped onto the motel bed. The springs squealed like a dying pig and Dean idly hoped that there were no bed bugs on the bed. In some of the motels he slept in, saying "don't let the bed bugs bite" was literal. He turned slightly and looked at the TV's dark screen. There might be a little time for some porn and a quickie before Dad brought Sammy back from…wherever the hell he had taken him.
Dean sighed to himself, contemplating whether he should tend to his black eye or his sore knuckles first. That fist to Sammy's face hadn't been a love tap. But, then again, the punch Dad gave him in retaliation was hardly soft either. Dean groaned again at the trail his thoughts took after that and pushed himself up.
"Get a grip, idiot," he grumbled under his breath as he shambled towards the tiny, cramped bathroom.
Bottle green eyes stared back at him from the mirror, one of them encased in a puffy purple patch of skin. Ha, say "puffy purple patch" three time fast, he though hazily. The full pink lips, cock-sucker lips if there ever were, pulled up in a smirking grin, and his head lolled a little to the left. He lifted an eyebrow, a trick he seemed to have been born with that Sam had worked hard to master, and stared drolly at his reflection in the grimy mirror.
"Hello, Dean Winchester. Are you there? Are you…anywhere?" He asked his reflection. He wasn't sure if he was being funny or not. After all, who was Dean Winchester? Dean certainly hoped it wasn't this guy staring back at him. This guy wasn't anyone, at least, no one Dean Winchester should be. This guy was Mr. Responsible, Mr. Take-the-Blame, Mr. Do-What-I'm-Told, Mr. Look-After-Sammy. And that was the worst part right there. On the list of things he shouldn't be, Look-After-Sammy was on there. And it really shouldn't have been. It's not like he really hated looking after Sammy. It's just; Dean doesn't think he's right for the job.
"Yup, basically anyone who isn't a sick, twisted fuck-up like me would be better at this job," He growled to himself in annoyance.
After all, only a sick, twisted fuck-up of a brother couldn't spend a half hour with his baby bro without feeling the need to bend him over the nearest somewhat flat surface and pound him into submission. And not in the "fists of fury" way, no, it was more in the "prick of pleasure" way. And that is not an okay thing to use on your little bro. At all, like, ever. Dean knew this, which only made him an even more twisted motherfucker. Hmm, Dean thought idly, considering the way I feel for my own brother, that term may pertain to me more than it ever should have. Dean groaned again.
"Hello, Dean Winchester," a voice said suddenly right behind him. With a shriek Dean would later deny vehemently, he turned around to face whoever or whatever had spoken.
A thin…boy, or so it seemed, who had bone white skin, unnaturally large purple eyes, a thin lip-less mouth, and who was wearing a powder blue leisure suit straight out of Saturday Night Live stood staring at him. The eyes, almost creepily large, were focused on his face, the irises following even the tiniest muscular twitch.
"Who the hell are you!" Questioned Dean as he tried to reach inconspicuously for the gun tucked into his belt. Yeah, what with the…thing watching his every move, that was pretty impossible, but ain't nobody gonna say he didn't try. The creature's thin neon yellow eyebrows shot up on its/his forehead and into it's carefully coiffed Elvis Presley-esque 'do. It/he cleared its throat with a tortured groan and spoke again.
"My sincerest apologies if I have startled you, Dean Winchester, but I am here on an important mission, and have not the time to follow the usual protocols." He/it explained eloquently
"Yeah, yeah, but who are you, how the fuck did you get here, and what the fuck do you want!" replied Dean just as eloquently. Again, the creature made that dying cow noise before continuing.
"Ah yes, I am Helbion Mogghy Malgharty the III, of the Hoemhlil faeries. I got here the way most of our kind do in such situations. It is a gift given to us by King Oberon himself. As for the reason for my visit…well, it is the will of Queen Titannia that this be done."
"…that is one hell of a name, kid, and what exactly does this Queen of yours want done?" Dean asked. The faery, Helbion, grinned brightly, showing sharp teeth terribly reminiscent of a piranha's. Dean recoiled slightly.
"Ah, well, you see, the great Queen has many in her court, including seers of all kinds. One of them sees into the realm of men, and has seen a terrible future for it…and you, Dean Winchester. And while we faeir have our own realm, we depend upon yours, as do many others. Therefore, she, the great Queen, in her mighty wisdom, has decreed that I help you find you soulmate, so that you may increase the power she shall bestow upon you-"
"Whoa! Let's back this bitch up! What's this awful future? What's this soulmate crap? And what power is that bitch gonna be bestowing?" Dean queried rapidly. Helbion stared for moment.
"…I do not understand your usage of the human term for a female dog, but I can assure that the great Queen is in no way a dog. I regret to say, Dean Winchester, but I was not told of this future, so therefore I cannot tell you. Not all humans have soulmates, but for those that do, if the great Queen bestows the pow'rs of the faeir upon them, the bonds between soulmates will more the quadruple it! This should help you with this unknown future."
"Exactly what kind of powers are we talking about here? There's no blood of virgins, bones of babies, puppy tails or crap like that, right?" Dean didn't want any witch powers that would make Sammy or his Dad hunt him at any point.
"Oh no! Faery pow'r is not like the terrible, vile thing your human witches have! Our pow'r is clean and pure, from the Earth herself! Our pow'r is as poison to the things you call demons," Helbion reassured hurriedly. Dean nodded in approval and let out an admiring whistle.
"So, you guys really stick in demons' craw, eh? Well, in that case, load me up, baby!" Dean threw his arms out and prepared to get…zapped, or whatever. However, Helbion did his little piranha grin again and pulled out a vial full of a strange viridescent semi-fluid with bronze veins running through it. To his eternal shame, the mixture took on a distinctly pink tint as soon as it came into Dean's hand. Pulling the stopper from the top, Dean took a deep breath and chugged the liquid down.
At first, it tasted bitterer than lemon peel, and Dean's cheeks squished together at the tart taste. Then a burst of intense sweet hit his taste buds, almost becoming sour in its extremity. A swirl of tangy spice came next, and before it left, Dean wanted to check his mouth for fires. Then, Dean began to wonder if he'd put the entire Dead Sea in his mouth, swallowed the water, and left all the salt in his maw. Finally, it seemed like all taste was entirely taken from him, and he was left with a tingling sensation that grew and grew until he felt like if he moved his tongue, millions of needles would prick it. This feeling spread to the back of his throat, making him cough uncontrollably, and moved down his esophagus. As soon as it hit his stomach, it spread through his whole body. When it reached Dean's heart, it seemed to concentrate there. The pain swirled like water flushed down a toilet bowl and Dean clutched at his shirt above his heart, irrationally wanting to rip it out to stop the awful pain.
Dean's limbs jerked and twitched and he felt a strange tearing sensation in his back. And then, suddenly, abruptly, it was all over. After a moment to get his bearings, he came back to himself and realized that he had fallen onto his hands and knees while in the throes of the transformation…or whatever it was. Pushing himself up and standing gingerly on his feet, Dean looked at the mirror to check for any physical signs.
At first, they were slightly hard to notice, but he was paler, yes, and his eyes were bigger. The irises had gained an impossible topaz tint, and his hair seemed slightly spikier. He was a touch taller, and his waist was slimmer, giving him a more built look but not actually increasing his muscle mass. All in all, none of the changes were particularly horrible, and, in fact, gave him a slightly exotic and wild look. If it wouldn't irreparably maim his pride, he'd even say he looked a little bit like a faery. He looked wild, untamed, like he was made for moonlit dances in cornfields with fireflies and other nature-y crap. Dean wasn't sure how exactly he felt about his new look, but since his wounds were healed, and he doubted this was a reversible thing, he'd just have to suck it up.
"So, I now have super faery powers and shit, and this should help me defeat demons and the like, right?" Dean asked, just to make sure, which he probably should have done before he swallowed that thing, but whatever, Dean Winchester was a doer, not a thinker. He left that shit for Sammy. Again, Helbion graced him with a puzzled look.
"Yes, Dean Winchester, you do have the pow'r of a faery, but I would suspect that your excrement will remain the same as it was before. I also do not see how excrement could possibly defeat demons, but, yes, your new pow'r will indeed be a great boon in your battles." Helbion replied. Dean chuckled at the faery's confusion.
"So, now that I have this power, how do I go about finding my soulmate so I can quadruple that puppy? Dean inquired. Now Helbion looked hopelessly lost, but seemed to decide to just let it pass.
"Well, as you are now at least part faery, I can easily see what must be done," here Helbion paused, staring at Dean with glazed eyes for a few moments," Hmm, finding and bonding with your soulmate will not be easy for you, Dean Winchester. You will have to first see what being soulmates is all about."
"OK then, what is it all about?" Dean asked skeptically. Helbion shook his head slightly, as if amused.
"No, Dean Winchester, I did not say I would tell what it is about, I said you would see what it was about. There is only one way the faeir do this."
"Oh, and what way is that?" Dean would be the first to admit he was being slightly patronizing. The grin that spread across Helbion's face was much, much scarier that the ones before, and Dean belatedly remembered that the faeries used to be feared.
"Why, by traveling through time, of course!" And with those words still ringing unnaturally in his ears, everything went black, and Dean crumpled bonelessly to the floor…
AN: Ok, ok, chickies! I know that what you all want are updates for MIL, LBP, and, most definitely, OEPATSMP, but…well, this plot bunny just came to me and started bludgeoning (don't you love that word) me over the head until I finally started this! Don't worry though; I've started the next chapter of MIL. The other two might be a little while coming, but it could be soon. See, I'm at my grandparents' house, and they don't have Wi-Fi, therefore, I am forced to spend the next week in internet withdrawal. Ugh! But, the good news, at least for you, is that being without the internet makes me work more on my own fics, so, here ya go! Enjoy chickies!