Dean Really Hates Curses

When Dean woke up he thought something was wrong.

When Dean looked down he knew something was wrong.

Those lumps were not there the night before.

"What?"

Cautiously, he put a hand to them, nudging them to see if they were real. They very much were.

"The fuck?!"

Dean sat up quickly, his hair swishing into his face.

…Wait what? Hair?

In slow movements, Dean pushed the very long, very attached to his skull hair out of his eyes.

"The fuck!?"

"Dude, shut up!" Sam moaned from the other motel bed. "We have a witch hunt to do in a few hours. Go to sleep!"

Ignoring his brother, and Dean wasn't really paying attention to his words anyway since there was more pressing matters to attend to, the Hunter ran to the motel bathroom. He felt things jiggling that were not supposed to ever be jiggling while certain other things that normally did jiggle didn't jiggle in the tiniest bit. Dean looked in the mirror and promptly screamed.

"That witch! That bitch!" Then, because he damn-well felt like it, Dean shouted, "That bitchy witch!"

Sam appeared in the doorway just then, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Dude, what?"

Den turned around, grabbing a fist-full of his long hair.

"I'm a fucking girl!"

x~X~x

They found the witch a few hours later. The only problem was, she was no help in the slightest. And she kept giggling at Dean! Can you say rude?

"Reverse this!" Dean demanded. He was furious and normally that was a sight to behold (and be extremely fearful of), but, unfortunately, that is not the case of today. Holding his sagging jeans by the waistline –and he was even wearing a belt for fuck's sake!– with his way-too-big shirt slipping down his way-too-feminine shoulders, Dean looked the complete opposite of raging, terry-filling demon Hunter.

In fact, he looked…kind of…well, kind of cute. His lips were pouting and his brow was creased and with the way the clothes hung on him, he could've been wearing his boyfriend's clothing. That might've been the reason why the witch was giggling so.

"Sorry," the witch sing-songed, not looking sorry at all. "I can't."

"Like hell you can't," Dean grumbled.

"You're absolutely correct," she replied.

Dean shot the gun. The witch disappeared. Then Dean's pants fell down.

"Sonofabitch!" he shouted to the air.

Sam didn't even bother trying to hide his laughter.

x~X~x

"Dean, Sam. I-" Castiel stopped, taking the sight in front of him with wide (wider) eyes. "Dean… It appears your sex has been altered."

Rolling his eyes, Dean shot back, "Gee thanks Sherlock, I didn't notice."

"Dean," Sam warned, his Bitch Face Number 12 donned on.

The Hunter sighed. "Look Cas, we called you because… Well, it's a bit obvious," he gestured to himself. "Do you have any idea how to reverse this?"

"…I'll go find out."

Cas disappeared.

Cas reappeared exactly 6.79 seconds later.

He didn't say anything and he refused to look at Dean.

"Well?" Sam prompted.

"I don't think you'll like it, Dean." Castiel still wasn't looking at his charge.

(…Was he blushing…?)

"Just spit it out," Dean said, mentally preparing himself for whatever will come next.

"To reverse the curse, you need to give birth."

"What!?"

Castiel looked Dean in the eye. "The child must be fathered by an angel."

"EXCUSE ME?!"

x~X~x

The trio sat in a tense silence for a few hours, only being broken by the TV show no one was really watching.

Dean kicked the wall in frustration and let out a yelp as he realized that that fucking hurt.

Then he grumbled, remembering it had never hurt him before.

x~X~x

"…Are you sure there's no other way?"

"Yes, Dean. I'm sure."

x~X~x

"…Are you positive there's no other way?"

"Yes, Dean. I'm positive."

x~X~x

"Have you checked everything? Double, triple, quadruple checked?"

"Yes, Dean. I have."

x~X~x

"What about-"

Castiel pushed Dean onto the bed, climbed into his lip, and kissed him into blissful silence.

Sam got the hell out of dodge.

x~X~x

One week later, Dean found out he was pregnant. The good news is, a pissed off hormonal pregnant female Dean is even scary than just a regular pissed off Dean.

That is, unless you're Sam and you forgot the pie. Again.

x~X~x

Nine months later, Dean gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl. She had Dean's eyes, lips, and freckles and Castiel's nose, hair, and ears.

She was named Dess.

The next day, after Dean was released from the hospital with a doe-eyed Uncle Sam and an extremely touchy-feely Castiel, Dean woke up in a strange motel, which wasn't unusual, but what was unusual was what he was lacking.

Dean had woken up with no boobs and a penis.

"Oh, thank God!"

He called Cas down from wherever-the-hell he was.

"Yes? Oh. You're sex is male again."

"Hell yes I am," Dean said with a grin. "And I want to feel like one too."

Dean pushed Castiel on the bed, much like Cas did to him those many nights ago, and…well… Let's just say it's a good thing Sam was out (buying baby stuff) and Dess is a very deep sleeper.

Castiel is very loud.

Not that Dean cares.

x~X~x

"At least we don't have to worry about you getting pregnant," Dean said, holding a very lax and happily-sedated angel in his arms.

Castiel didn't answer.

"Cas… You can't get pregnant, right? …Right?"