We're off to see the... witch?

Summary: Castiel and the brothers are infected during a routine hunt by a witch with serious mojo. She curses Castiel who in turn accidently infects the brothers and they wake up... not themselves in the slightest. Their roles have been turned.. The brothers are now Angels of the Lord and Castiel is a lowly human who is not satisfied at all with this change. The witch is dead, the curse is still upon them, and they're on the run from the pissed off angels in the Garrison.

Sam, Dean, Cas, Bobby, Balthazar, etc. are not owned by myself, but by Kripke. This makes me sad in pants.

CHAPTER .1.

The brothers were cornered against the damp, dark wall.

They circled, back to back, holding their guns tight. Somewhere close by, a window shattered. Then another. And another. Dean shot in the air and reloaded his gun, his fingers slippery from sweat.

'Don't waste them, Dean,' grunted Sam, breathing hard.

'Bitch has some serious mojo,' growled Dean, pointing at any sign of movement, his eyes straining to see anything a couple of metres in front of him. There was a flutter near Dean's ear and he spun around, pulling the trigger.

The man he shot, however, just tilted his head in confusion then assessed his now ruined shirt.

'Cas! What the hell?' Dean cocked the gun after the initial shock.

'I thought you called me.'

'That was an hour ago, before psycho Broomhilda!'

Another window shattered, echoing in the derelict warehouse, the brothers pointing their guns at it.

'A witch?' Asked Castiel.

'Yes and she's working some serious black magic,' said Sam, his eyes following a quick movement in his peripheral vision.

SMASH! Another two windows splintered to the ground.

Sam shot in that direction in panic, but the bullets just chipped the wall. Suddenly the guns were ripped from their hands by an invisible force and thrown across the room. The witch appeared in front of them.

'Ah, I see you brought company?' She purred maliciously.

'The more the merrier,' said Dean, in a fighting stance, ready for anything. She raised a black eyebrow, her eyes gleaming a bright violet before throwing some of her mojo at them, but before Sam and Dean could duck out of the way, Castiel was there in front of them, the mojo hitting him square in the chest. He barely flinched.

The witch look confused, then thoroughly impressed.

'Odd... you were meant to explode into a million, tiny, bloody pieces.'

'You overestimate yourself,' growled Castiel, but the witch disappeared before he could raise a hand. She reappeared right in front of him, planting her red painted lips onto his, tasting like lemon, ginger, blood and something else that Cas couldn't put his finger on. Suddenly she vanished again, the room silent.

'... Cas, we have established a new rule considering past events,' Dean looking quickly at Sam who looked down, 'No fraternising with the enemy. This rule now applies to you,' he shut the door to the Impala and glared at Castiel in the rear view mirror.

'I did not instigate that,' he said solemnly.

'Excuse of the century,' muttered Dean, the baby roaring to life.

'To another days work,' said Dean, clinking the bottle to Sams then taking a swig.

'It was a lucky shot,' smiled Sam, dabbing the cut on his head with a tissue. It was the next day after the warehouse incident, Sam and Dean had finally ganked the witch, a lucky shot taken by Sam, though it had almost cost him a concussion. Not a big deal at all considering the alternative.

'Ding dong the witch is dead,' sniggered Dean, turning on the television. It was static, no channels or picture showing. Dean fiddled with the aerial before smacking the side of the box, swearing. Suddenly the picture was on, clear as crystal, so Dean petted where he had smacked it.

'Cas?' Said Sam uncertainly. Dean frowned at the television (which was definitely not showing Castiel) before turning around. Castiel was leaning against the dining room chair, swaying. He looked sick; his face was pale, a sheen of sweat covering it and making the ends of his hair curl and stick to his face. His blue eyes were watery and his fingers shook on the chair that was supporting him.

Dean got up and helped Sam lift Castiel onto the bed.

'Damn Cas, what happened?' Asked Dean.

Castiel blinked and shrugged his shoulders slowly.

'Are you hurt?' Asked Sam.

Cas shook his head but then took off his tie and the boys helped him shrug out his trench coat.

'He's sick?' Dean looked at Sam in disbelief, 'how the hell do angels get the flu?'

'I have no idea,' said Sam, getting up and grabbing a clean towel. Dean heard him run it under cold water.

'When did this happen?' Dean asked.

Cas swallowed, 'started this morning,' he croaked. Sam passed Dean the towel and he folded it, putting it onto Castiel's head. He closed his eyes in relief.

Dean turned to Sam.

'The flu? He has a fever for God's sake.'

'I don't know. But I was just thinking... Cas can get drunk, right? Even though he's an angel. Maybe he can get sick too.'

'Sam I shot him, in the heart, and he just looked at me like he was watching the weather channel.'

'...True. Well how about this, he's using Jimmy's vessel. Maybe Jimmy is allergic to something?'

'Cas?' Dean nudged him but Castiel had drifted to sleep, his mouth hanging open. He looked human... it was creepy.

'Call Bobby,' instructed Dean.

'Are you sure he's sick?' Asked Bobby, sitting at his desk and pulling random – but undoubtedly useful – books towards him.

'Bobby he's running a fever and coughing all over the place. If I didn't know any better I would say he had pneumonia or something,' whispered Sam. Castiel was still asleep, his breathing heavy and wheezy. Dean sat at the kitchen table on the laptop, his eyes watery from the bright screen.

'I'll try and find something...' sighed Bobby, 'but you listen here. If whatever this is can gank an angel by giving them the sniffles then you watch out. Be careful.'

'Thanks Bobby.'

The brothers took turns watching Castiel during the night but he didn't seem to get worse, his condition stayed the same.

It was four in the morning before anything happened.

'Sam,' whispered Cas hoarsely. Sam jolted awake from his half-sleep, his elbows slipping off his knees. He shifted from the end of the bed where he had dozed off, to where Castiel was.

'How you feeling?' He whispered trying not to wake Dean, but as soon as Sam had moved, Dean was awake. He sat on the bed next to Sam.

'I feel like... I've been hit by a train, boiled by a volcano and dipped in something... unpleasant,' Cas took the sweaty towel off him and tried to sit up.

'What happened?' Asked Sam, 'how are you... sick?'

'I would tell you if I knew.'

'You can't heal yourself?' Asked Dean, rubbing his eyes. Cas shook his head.

'I tried. It made me feel worse. I don't understand. How can I be ill? I'm not-'

Cas suddenly spluttered, coughing and covering the boys in spit.

'Ugh, thanks,' muttered Sam, wiping his face.

'I can taste it... hey,' Dean frowned, 'have you been drinking?'

Cas shook his head again, regaining his breath.

'Cos I can taste lemon.'

'Weird. Me too,' said Sam.

Cas held up his finger, signalling for them to wait for him to speak.

'Did you say lemon?'

'Yeah and... something else...'

'Ginger? Blood?'

'Look Cas, we're close, but that doesn't mean I want to savour your spit so I can taste the colours of the rainbow,' said Dean.

'No, shut up,' Cas swallowed, 'the witch.'

'The witch?' Asked Sam, confused.

'When she... kissed me. That's what I could taste.'

'Oh gross!' Exclaimed Dean, using his fingers to scrape at his tongue, looking around for a beer.

'And you didn't tell us this til now?' chastised Sam.

'I did not think it was of import.'

'Ever think that this could be why you're sick?' Asked Sam, holding out a hand so Dean could pass him a beer.

'But we ganked... Woah,' Dean seemed to stagger, 'head rush.' He sat on the bed.

'You okay dude?'

Dean nodded, putting his beer back down.

I feel... weird.'

'Like...' Sam blinked, feeling light-headed, 'sick, weird?' His vision blurred.

Dean collapsed onto the bed.

'Dean? Heyyyy...' Sam reached out to poke Dean, he could hear Castiel saying something but it sounded like he was miles away, but before he could extend his hand he was met with blackness.

TBC...