This takes place after Season 5 episode 19 Hammer of the Gods and is based on the song Dean's Dream by the Dead Milkmen.
"Will you shut your hay-hole for one minute?"
"Just trying to be friendly…"
"Well I'm not looking for any friends Mr. Ed," Dean snapped back as he checked the frame of the door for the hundredth time still not finding a hinge or any other weak spot. He really missed his gun, knife, any weapon really. At this point he didn't know if he would use them to get out or kill his motor mouth companion.
"Don't compare me to that fleabag," the horse replied as he trotted over to a corner of the room. "I am a majestic Clydesdale, my pedigree goes back centuries compared to that glue factory reject." The horse turned and peered at Dean in the dim light. "Are you sure you don't want to cuddle next to me Dean? You're looking a little blue in the face."
"How the hell do you know my name? And no I don't want to cuddle, you creep me out."
"Why everyone knows Sam and Dean Winchester. But why do I as you say 'creep you out.'?"
"The frickin' yapping is a start. Now shut it, I think I hear something." Dean leans against the cold door of the walk-in freezer. It didn't improve the quality of the sound, just kept him a little farther away from the talking horse. The sound appeared to be applause but it was so muffled Dean couldn't be one-hundred percent sure. Suddenly the door started to slide back and the room was flooded with bright light "Cas?" Dean called out hopefully. At that moment he didn't care if it was Michael himself, he just wanted out of the hell he'd spent the last twenty-four hours in with a talking horse.
"Welcome to Friday Night Fricassee," Dean hears as he stumbles out of the freezer onto a stage. "I'm your host Loren Kipper." Dean turns toward the voice and as his eyes adjusted he could clearly see who it was.
"Damn Trickster," Dean growled and took off toward the angel only to be stopped after a few seconds, frozen into place as it were.
"Now, now, Dean. Is that any way to greet an old friend?" Gabriel stepped from behind the kitchen counter and walked over to Dean putting an arm around him. Dean mentally cringed because he couldn't do it physically. "Besides," Gabriel continued as he turned Dean toward the studio audience. "I'm going to do for you something I'm sure you wanted to do every minute for the twenty-four hours." Gabriel walked away from Dean. In his position Dean couldn't see where the trickster went but he could hear footsteps that were walking away from him and the stamping of horse hooves. "So audience," Gabriel yelled with much excitement. "Tell Dean what is tonight's dish?"
"Horse meat surprise," the audience replied. Dean heard a whinny, a thud, and then all went black.
Dean is lit by a sort of eerie red light and as he looks around there are buildings, shops, a diner, even a post office. It looks like one of those quaint small towns they are always describing in stories, except everything seems to have a red tint to it. Dean attempts to get his bearings when he looks up at the sky. Heavy rain clouds are above him, moving so fast they appear to be rolling over themselves. But that's not what causes Dean sudden uneasiness; it's the blood red color of the sky. "What the hell, man?" Dean yells at no one in particular. A few people passing on the street give Dean a sideways glance but continue on their way. Dean reaches in his pocket for his phone before remembering he didn't have it either. He picks a direction at random, north in this case, and starts walking. He's not sure what he's looking for but it still better than just standing around waiting for something to happen.
About six blocks of walking nothing seems out of the ordinary, but the town seems vaguely familiar. Dean doesn't put too much thought into that. After the hundreds of towns he and Sam have been to, they all start to look alike. Something ahead catches his eye, it's a brightly lit movie theater. Looking at the marquee there is only one movie being shown, Mystery Spot. "Great," Dean mumbles to himself. "Still in the twilight zone."
To Dean's right, in the street, there is a cacophony of noise. It's a marching band. They are not very good so it takes a minute or two before Dean can pick out the tune they are playing.
"Smoke on the water," Dean can't help but sing along. "A fire in the …" Just then a golf ball sized flaming something fell from the sky and landed on the car next to him. After a momentary panic he calmed down, realizing it wasn't Baby, but instead some unfortunate soul's flaming cloth-top convertible.
The second ball of flame, this time closer to tennis ball sized, went through the center snare drum in the marching band's rhythm section. Everything ground to a halt for five whole seconds, and then all hell broke loose both on the ground and in the sky. From the air it was hailing fireballs, on the ground it was mass panic as everyone ran for safety. Dean ducked in the closest doorway he could find, right beside the ticket booth of the theater, opening the door and running inside. The person in the booth didn't yell at him, they were too busy locking and unlocking the booth door, panicked beyond belief.
The noise difference is incredible. The lobby of the theater is quiet accept for the gentle sound of kernels popping at the concession stand about twenty feet away. Dean turns for a moment to look back outside but the glass of the doors are heavy tinted black and he can't see at thing.
"Can I take your order?" Dean turns back to the sound of the voice, which is coming from the concession stand, which is now just a few feet away. Dean doesn't answer, but it's not the sudden distance closing that's got him mute, it's her.
Standing behind the counter is Busty Asian Beauties Miss July. He knows it's her, it's his absolute favorite issue. He can't remember what year it's from since he's had it so long. He had memorized every detail, her large almond eyes, full blood red lips, and most importantly the ethereal almost white blonde wig she wore that cascaded down her shoulders, seeming to wrap itself around a very full, amazing pair of…
"…Pie."
"Pie?" Dean repeated.
"You haven't heard a word I've said Dean. Our special is fried apple pies from the bakery down the street. Best pie in the county." Her voice was soft, almost childlike, as he imagined it would be.
"How do you know my name?"
"So is that a yes on the pie or are you going to go with boring old popcorn?" She responded, pointedly not answering Dean's question.
"P..pie," Dean responds as he realizes he's now much closer the girl with long blonde hair. In fact all that separates them is the narrow glass counter. He glances down and can see her long slender fingers retrieving the pie from the one of the shelves, and placing it on a plate. Dean is only slightly aware that she is trying to hand him the plate because his eyes are decidedly fixated on the ends of the blonde wig. Or at least where those ends are laying. The sound of the plate hitting the counter shocks Dean back to reality.
"Shit," she hisses between her teeth.
"It's okay," Dean says hurriedly retrieving the pie off the counter and putting it back on the plate. "I'm sure this counter was spotless." He then realizes she's not looking at him but off to his left. He turns and sees a man standing there. He looks homeless, clothes ragged, kind of shuffling along. Then the smell wafts from the man into Dean's direction. "Zombies? Really?"
"We need to leave Dean," She says, pulling gently on Dean's arm. She is no longer behind the concession stand but right behind him. "Back away slowly, there is an exit about fifty feet behind us."
After a half dozen slow steps the zombie hadn't moved. "Looks like Romero over there is asleep," Dean joked.
"Shh, they'll hear us."
"Who?" she didn't respond but nodded her head in the direction of the open viewing rooms on either side of them. Dean looked in to see a packed theatre watching a movie. "What are they going to do, shush us to death?"
"Don't you smell it Dean?" the girl whispered.
"Smell what besides Living Dead over..." They were far enough away now that the rotting flesh of the zombie was no longer the prominent smell. Dean took in a deep breath to confirm what he already knew. He wasn't happy. "What would Trickster want with demons?"
"I don't know who this trickster is, but we need to get out of here," she snapped. Pushing the bar on the door she pulled Dean out of the theatre and into an alley.
Night had fallen while Dean had been inside but the fiery hailstorm continued. The only protection they had was a little overhang above the door. From the sounds of the balls of fire hitting overhead, they wouldn't have that for long. Dean took off his jacket to cover the girls head as they advanced into the alley when a tan colored van appeared almost out of nowhere.
"Dean!" Sam exclaimed from the passenger seat of the van. "Get in the van; we've got to get out of here."
"Ya think," Dean replied opening the side panel and assisting his blonde companion into the carpet lined cargo area. "Where have you been Sammy?" Dean continued after shutting the door.
"The library, you know the place you were supposed to meet me at two hours ago. I gave up waiting and started walking back this way to find you when it started raining fire. Luckily I got a ride and we've been looking for you ever since."
"Have you been there since Thursday?"
"Huh?"
"You know while I was locked up in a deep freeze."
"Dean except for when you dropped me off at the library this morning. We've been together. Are you sure you are all right?"
"Where are we headed now?" the man in the driver's seat interrupted. Dean couldn't really see anything about the man except that he was white and had short cropped brown hair.
"Parking garage on Sixth, that's where our car…" Sam responded.
Dean jumped in, "Thanks for the ride Mister…"
"McGarrett, Detective Steve McGarrett."
"Like in Hawaii Five-O?" Dean asked.
The driver chuckled, "Yeah, don't know what my parents were thinking. But them I'm the one who went into law enforcement."
"Never seen a cop who drives a love van," Dean continued looking over at his blonde companion who although quiet seemed tense. He patted her hand reassuringly while trying hard not to stare directly at her chest.
"It belongs to the department. We use it in undercover operations. My regular car is currently a flaming pile of shit on Fourth. I was having lunch when the firestorm started. I so don't look forward to trying to explain this to my insurance." McGarrett adjusted his side-view mirror, "Hey Sam, do you recognize the car behind us?"
Sam glanced into his side view mirror, "No, should I?" Dean attempted to look out the back windows but they were blacked-out, he moved forward to look thorough the side mirrors, but no matter how he moved he couldn't see anything behind them.
"I'm going to try and ditch them," McGarrett says before stomping on the accelerator. Pretty soon the speedometer is pegging 40, 50, 60 then 70 miles an hour all while McGarrett ignores pretty much every stop sign and traffic signal.
"Hey chief, I'm all about evasive maneuvers but this van doesn't have a siren and…"
"Shut it, Dean," McGarrett snaps back.
Dean stares at the driver before getting up to give him a physical response. But then the van shakes violently from sideswiping another vehicle and Dean is thrown back onto the floor. Before Dean can get up again the van makes a sudden right turn, clipping the sidewalk at just the right angle to send it into a barrel roll. The van comes to a stop right side up. Dean can't hear anything but his own heartbeat. Actually it's not his heartbeat. He starts to raise his head and realizes that it's pillowed right between the blonde's…
"You okay," Dean says to his companion, not acknowledging where his head had been. She nods mutely and even though there is a little blood on her face, Dean has to agree she doesn't look too hurt. "Sam!" he yells.
"I'm fine Dean, but I think McGarrett is in bad shape."
"Screw him," Dean snapped. Outside he could hear the sound of several doors closing. "I think we have company." Dean attempts opening the van side door but it's to bent. He grabs his companion's hand and leads her over the front seats and out the door Sam has already exited. Outside, the van crash had kicked up a lot of dust and visibility was down to a few feet. "Weapons?"
"Library had metal detectors remember?" Sam whispered. "What about you?"
"Nada. Someone stripped me of everything, I don't even have my phone."
"Me either, it was in my bag and it got taken when I wasn't looking."
"Dumbass."
"Says the guy who doesn't have anything…"
"Hey, Hey! Guys," the blonde shouted before stepping between the brothers. "I think they're coming."
Sam and Dean look around and at first see nothing but as the dust cloud starts to dissipate they slowly make out the forms of about a dozen people advancing on them. One is moving faster than the others and comes to a stop about five feet away from the brothers. "Hello Sam and Dean."
"Who the hell are you?" Dean growled.
The man chuckled, "Funny choice of words Dean. It's Jacob if you need to know, not that it will matter much in a few minutes." Jacob reaches from behind him and pulls out a very large, serrated knife. "Don't hurt Lucifer's vessel, do what you want to the other two."
Sam, Dean, and his blonde companion start to back up but soon realize they are being surrounded. Dean feels something being pressed into his hand. He looks down to find it's a platform shoe. Looking back at his blonde companion he realizes she's about six inches shorter and handing Sam her other shoe. "It's all I have weapon wise. I'll be in the van, maybe I can get it started." She leans forward and kisses Dean gently. "Survive and there is a lot more where that came from."
Dean smiled, "Piece of cake." Dean hefted the shoe in his hand and turned back to Jacob. "We gonna do this or what?" Jacob's eyes went black and all the demons descended on the Winchesters.
Dean couldn't believe how effective a platform shoe was as a weapon. He didn't know what they were made of but he swore that this one contained lead. Luckily he also had his own fighting skills plus Sam because there were a lot of them and they didn't seem to want to stay down. When he got a chance, he would spare a glance back toward the van. She was still there frantically trying to get the van to start. "At least she's safe," he thought. He returns to fighting but then hears her scream.
"Dean…Sam!" She screams while pointing in a direction off to his left. He turns to see two men carrying off an unconscious Sam. He takes off after them. Two steps into his run, there is a sharp pain in his back and everything goes black.
"I'm alright, I'm alright dammit!" Dean snapped at whoever was shaking him. They didn't stop. That's when he realized that his eyes were closed as well as his mouth. He opened them both and realized Sam was leaning over him. "I'm alright Sam; if I want to be shaken I'll put a quarter in the Magic Fingers over there."
"He's alright," Sam says into his cellphone. "Just let me know if you find anything Bobby." Sam closes the phone and looks at Dean, "Quite a nightmare you were having there."
"Not a nightmare it's the freakin' trickster, Gabriel."
"Gabriel is dead Dean."
"You don't know that."
"Yeah, I do," Sam responds flopping down on the other bed beside Dean's. "We were there, we saw it Dean. Gabriel isn't coming back. Look why don't I go get us some breakfast. Alarm is going to be going off in a minute or two anyway."
"I'll go get it," Dean said swinging his legs off the bed and sitting up. "I need some air." Dean had made it to the end of the bed and was putting on his pants when the alarm went off.
"It was the heat of the moment…" Dean fell back and was out before his head touched the bed.
Once again he was in the theater but this time it is dark. The only light comes from the neon signs above the concession stand. Dean turns around and runs to what he hopes are the front exit doors. He heads out and runs right into the blonde girl. Literally. His lightning fast instinct kicks in and he catches her before she falls, wrapping his hands easily around her thin, delicate, arms.
"I was hoping to run into you again Dean," She lets out a small chuckle. "Just not like this," she continues looking pointedly at Dean's hands.
"Uh yeah, sorry about that. Where did you go, I blacked out and…"
The girl gave Dean a perplexed look and grabbing his hand leads him down the street.
"Whoa where are we going?"
"To dinner, you must be starving." She continued to pull Dean along. He looks around as they make their way down the street. The sky is still boiling red although there are no more fireballs. The street is eerily quiet and littered with bodies.
"Shouldn't we do something?"
"They're already dead Dean, nothing to do except clean up and that's not your job. Now come on, you have to try the Lucifer burger."
Dean stops, "Lucifer burger?"
"Yeah, quarter-pound burger with cheese, bacon, jalapenos, and ghost chili ketchup. You'll love it."
"I'm sure I will," Dean replied hesitantly. "Hey, it's obvious you know my name but I don't know yours. I can't just go around calling you Miss July."
"Didn't read the info on the back of the centerfold did you?" She responded coyly. Dean gave a small embarrassed smile. "Don't worry, it was all lies. Besides," She touched her fingers to his forehead then let them slide gracefully down the side of his face. "You already know my name."
Dean responded with a confused look.
"Oh right," the blonde continues to walk again. "I had a different meat suit on last time."
Dean makes a frantic grab for a gun, knife…once again coming up short. "Bitch," he growls at her.
The blonde stops and turns to him. "It's pronounced Meg, Dean," says the pretty face with the long blonde hair that goes all the way down… Dean's eyes track back up in time to see hers go completely black. A moment later, so does everything else.