A/N: Lolface! And I would write Homestuck - if someone would explain what it is and how you play it :P

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Advent - December 7th

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When Sam walks back through into the living room, Dean is still sitting there with his head in his hands.

Sandy has been nattering to him practically non-stop about anything and everything; hair, clothes, make-up…waxing.

Dean does not need to know how to properly take care of his T-zone, thank you very much. He is a man. Men do not need this sort of thing. He doesn't care how badly car oil is for the skin or anything like that.

But girls won't want to go out with you! It's going to completely mess up your face!

Not even if dry skin is going to put girls off on him.

Wait.

So what you do, Sandy's saying in his head, is first you get the exfoliator, and you don't need much! Remember that! But you shouldn't just give it a quick wipe either. You really have to get in there to take off the layer of dead skin.

Urgh. It's like having a little sister in his brain.

Or what he imagines Sammy would have talked to him about during puberty if he'd had half a chance.

You'll have to probably work it a little harder as I've noticed your skin is oily, and not in the natural oils either.

It's like my ex-boyfriend oily when he worked on cars all day. Now, don't get me wrong, he was fit and wore leather like you wouldn't believe, but in the end it was just gross touching him because all his pores ended up blocked and –

Yeah, thanks, can we get back to making the chicks want him again?

There's a huff of annoyance and Dean can feel Sandy rolling her eyes at him. Even if she doesn't have any eyes per-se at the moment. It's like how Sam can pull a bitch-face without moving any of his muscles.

Impressive, but annoying.

Fine, Sandy says, and despite everything, Dean finds himself caught up in what she's saying next. It's like he can't help it.

It's reminding him of a chick-flick moment. Only there's no emotion involved. But there's something definitely unmanly about taking advice on how to look pretty for someone.

Oh god, Dean's having a chick-flick moment with himself!

And there's not even going to be any pillow fights between scantily clad women to offset it.

He's ruined.

And then when you've done that you moisturise. And remember, you don't need to drown your face in that either. You don't just slap it on like its barbeque sauce on chicken wings, you hear?

Ruined for life.

Dean glances up when the door to the kitchen closes.

"Well?" He asks. Interrupting Sandy telling him her favourite method is to rub in small circles. Dean wishes she wasn't talking about a cream.

Sam looks like he doesn't know how to tell Dean he's pretty much screwed.

Yeah, like Dean doesn't already know that.

"Salt and burn."

Dean sighs. "And will that get rid of her?" He winces and holds his hands up to his ears as Sandy takes affront at that.

What d'ya mean get rid of me. It's not my fault I'm stuck in here, you know. Well, it kinda is, what with me possessing you. But you're the one with the sticky body that won't let me go, so the blame has to be fifty-fifty.

Just because no one else can hear me doesn't make my points less valid, Mr Freakishly Hot.

I can't believe you want to just get rid of me, like I'm yesterday's trash! Urgh, you remind me of my last ex-boyfriend. He's all-

"Not rid of her." Dean interrupts with a wince, "Will that allow her to pass on."

There's a pause and then Sandy harrumphs and says, Well that's a bit more like it. It's not like I want to be stuck in your body forever, you know. Especially when you're not going to be doing anything with Sam.

What? Wait, what?

Why is that even an issue?

Why would she even think that?

Dean's interrupted from his thoughts when Sam sighs and flops down on the sofa next to him.

"I dunno man," Sam says after a moment, "salt and burn gets rid of all ghosts, supposedly, but…" he trails off because he doesn't need to finish the sentence.

Sandy isn't just a wandering ghost. She's stuck in Dean.

And if the salt and burn doesn't go as planned – if it breaks the tie between ghost and earthly possession, but Sandy is still stuck in his body – then Dean's screwed.

He might as well let his inner chick out.

Just no.

"What did Ash say?" Dean asks because he doesn't want to think about have a chick in his head for more time than he needs to.

Women are all well and good. It's just Dean has no idea how to react with them on a sociable level. He grew up surrounded by strong male role models. He can barely remember his mom but her memory isn't something he thinks about when he's trying to woo.

And his father never talked to him about this, apart from that really, really awkward conversation when he was thirteen and he had his first dream and oh god Dean's just traumatised remembering that godforsaken town never mind the conversation.

Especially since his dad had decided to approach it like he had done any hunt and gathered every single fact and presented it in excruciating detail.

Including gay sex.

And then tried to bring feelings into it.

It's practically a miracle that Dean didn't develop some sort of complex about it all. Though it had taken Dean three months to work up the nerve to look his father in the eye after that.

If he thinks on it, it probably took his father the same amount of time too.

Winchester men are repressed.

Yeah, Dean knows it. And he's quite happy with it too.

And Sam wonders why Dean wants to have nothing to do with any part of that time. Even though everything is basically a triggering incident. Yeah, big mystery.

Sam had it better though as their dad had left for a week and left Dean to explain the second time around. Of course, he left under the pretence of a 'hunt' but Dean has absolutely no illusions as to what he was really doing.

Somehow, Dean doesn't think he's done Sam a favour there because Sam is the closest Dean has ever had to having someone with a female role in his life.

It's probably not supposed to be his little brother.

Sam looks anywhere but at his brother. "Oh, you know…" he says. He can't last long and his eyes flick over to see Dean staring at him and looking very unimpressed.

"Dude," Dean says slowly, "I have a chick. In my head."

And the strangest urge to try exfoliating.

Sam winces, "Ash says that you pretty much have to live with it or kill yourself."

Dean stares at him. "Yeah, no."

Sam rolls his eyes. "You don't have to be so melodramatic-"

"Yeah." Dean repeats slowly. "No."

Sam bites his lip and Sandy squeals in Dean's mind.

Look at him, he's so cute. How can you not want that?

Dean sighs. Very easily. He thinks.

He really shouldn't be encouraging this. He's got nothing against Sandy, but this is not comfortable. He does not find this situation comfortable.

Oh pssh. You just don't know hot when you see it.

Or, Dean thinks because come on! I just don't see hot in my brother! Seriously, who does that?

Sandy hums happily, There were these two brothers in the town where I grew up. They weren't out out, you know? But they'd share these looks sometimes and everyone knew what was going on anyway.

They were even twins!

Well one day, a group of us snuck into their backyard and peered through their window and they were locked in this embrace…

Sandy trails off and Dean experiences a wave of extreme satisfaction.

"Oh God!"

Sam jumps. "What! What is it Dean?"

Dean ignores him; too busy scrubbing his hands through his hair. "Oh God, oh God, oh God…"

You know, Sandy says, You don't have to be so vanilla. Some guys get off on female twins kissing.

Not in my brain, Dean tries to not imagine it, please, just, not in my brain. Oh God, I am so glad I can't get images from you.

"Dean?"

Dean jumps when he feels Sam's hand on his shoulder.

"Dean, what's wrong?"

"She's a female me!" Dean says, and Sandy snorts in amusement. Sam is looking confused.

"What?"

"Sandy," Dean says, clutching Sam's hand like it's a lifeline to stave off the images of gay incest-y porn. "She's a female me."

"O…kay then." Sam says, trying to surreptitiously tug his hand away from Dean's grip.

Dean thinks he's probably got his crazy face on, but he doesn't care. God, if this was how Sam felt when Dean tried to educate him in the wonders of puberty he's so totally sorry.

Nothing can be worse than this.

Then an image pops into his head. There is tongue. A lot of tongue. And skin.

Oh hey! Sandy sounds extremely happy with herself I just figured out how to do that!

Dean moans and hugs Sam. It's not a chick flick moment, he tells himself. It's a please God save me moment.

"Kill me." Dean's voice is muffled in Sam's shirt, "Please just…kill me."

Sam pats him gingerly on the shoulder. "Let's…try the salting and burning first, eh?"

###

"Okay," Sam says when they're both sitting at the kitchen table. "We need to come up with a plan."

"Right," Dean says, and then promptly sits back because Sam's plans are always the better ones.

Except for the ones that aren't.

Sandy is quiet too, waiting to see what they'll come up with.

"Okay." Sam repeats, and then doesn't say anything else.

After three minutes Dean rolls his eyes.

"We should probably find out what's happening with her body." Dean says. "See if she's got family that's going to take it out of state or something."

Sam nods, "Good plan." And then looks at Dean.

Dean's about to ask him what the hell does he think he's looking at and shouldn't he get onto the internet and do his thing, when he realises that he has Sandy in his head and can probably get the general answers from her.

Dean coughs in embarrassment.

There's a feeling of amusement coming from Sandy.

No, Dean, she says, I don't have any family.

Dean doesn't know how he's supposed to react to that, Um, sorry… he thinks.

Sandy scoffs at him, Don't be. Wasn't your fault.

Sam's still staring at him so Dean turns his attention back to his brother. "She says that she doesn't have any family left."

Sam frowns and looks like he's going to say something, then thinks twice about it. "Right," he says, reaching for his computer, "Well, that makes it…simpler. In a way. The hospital will keep her body and cremate it at the cost of the state.

"The only problem there'll be is if the police try to hold onto it for evidence. But…" Sam trails off and frowns as he types something, "it was a pretty straightforward death. No drugs or anything like that…?"

No, Sandy chimes in, I was clean.

Dean shakes his head.

"Right, well," Sam continues, "that means the police shouldn't be tagging her death as suspicious. It's pretty straightforward, meaning that her body should be released soon once the autopsy is done.

"We can probably get the hospital to hold a viewing before the ceremony in the hospital chapel. Open box, and sneak the salt in there. The cremation should take care of the burning."

Sandy's quiet.

Dean sends a questioning thought to her but she doesn't respond - just pulls further back.

Dean's not worried. Except that he is a little concerned.

This is how he and Sam usually talk about cases. How they hash out the details on how they're going to purify and burn a body.

They don't usually do it with the victim in the room though.

Dean stands and Sam shoots him a glance.

"I'm…" Dean trails off because whatever he's going to say, Sandy's going to hear it, and he doesn't think that she'll want his pity.

Instead Dean makes a vague motion at his head. "I'm going to catch up on some TV. Let me know when you've got all the details."

Sam looks guilty for a moment and nods, "Yeah, that's-" he clears his throat, "yeah, okay. I'll do that."

Dean and Sam share a look as Dean makes his way back to the living room.

It's not until Dean's been watching some stupid reality program for ten minutes that he hears a small 'Thank you' in the back of his head.

###

Sam was right.

He phoned and checked with the hospital and the police have released the body for burial. Or, in this case, cremation because no relative has come to claim her and it's cheaper for the state.

The hospital has also agreed to hold an open casket in the hospital chapel for them to pay their last respects.

Sandy was quiet the entire time Dean was driving. She stayed silent all the way to the chapel, and even then, when Dean stepped through and saw the coffin, she only let out a quiet gasp in the back of his mind.

Dean tries to ignore the silence, but it's affecting both him and Sam. They share a glance and Dean shakes his head, taking a step forward.

Sam closes the door quietly behind them.

There's a certain reverence in the room, for all that it's buried deep within the building where people die daily.

There's stained glass windows behind the alter where the coffin lies. Two angels watch over. Dean doesn't know which ones. Sam might.

Some interior designer has mimicked sunlight by putting lights behind the glass.

When Dean looks down into the coffin, Sandy is lit up by the golden glow from one of the angel's halo.

Oh.

Dean feels Sam step up beside him and pull out the bottle of salt.

"Dean?" He asks.

"Give us a moment." Dean says, and Sam goes to sit on the nearest bench, keeping a look out.

Sandy, Dean thinks.

Crap, he's really not good at this sort of thing.

It's…okay, Dean. I was just…they made me pretty again.

Dean can hear her voice trembling. Fuck, she's crying. Dean knows she is. But she's right. The hospital has done a good job fixing her up. Her neck is no longer torn open and they've put her in a generic white dress that makes her look a lot younger.

You were always pretty, he thinks instead, I should know.

Sandy huffs out a quiet laugh and Dean responds with his own small smile.

Dean, Sandy thinks after another moment, do you think I'll see my parents again?

Why would you think any different? Dean questions.

There's another pause and then I wasn't…I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of. After they died I kinda went off the rails. They were Christian's and told me to believe in God's plans but, after they died, I couldn't see what was so great about His plan anyway…

I'm…not…not happy with some of the stuff I've done. Do you…do you think they'll be ashamed? Do you think they've been watching over me?

Dean's throat closes up for a moment and he has to clear it to breathe properly.

My mom… he starts, and then stops because this is hard for him too, My mom used to tell me that angels watch over you. I don't think they'd abandon you because you lost a bit of your faith.

There's silence again as they both regroup.

I don't want to…I don't want to look at me anymore…

Dean bows his head, turns and makes his way to a seat. He avoids Sam's eyes and doesn't even watch as Sam sprinkles a hefty amount of salt over Sandy's body.

He keeps his eyes down until he hears the lid of the coffin close.

###

Sam and Dean sit in the Impala that's parked in the hospital parking lot.

Sandy has sunk back into silence as they wait to see if this actually works.

Dean's just checking the time for the second time in the last five minutes when he feels it. A rippling passing through his head.

Oh. Sandy says, I think that's…

Dean flinches as something tugs.

I think that's me. Sandy's voice is a lot fainter, but she seems happier, if nervous. I'll never forget you both.

There's another tug, but this one is harsher and Dean grimaces.

And sorry again about the kiss!

Sandy's voice is barely discernible but Dean picks it out, and then there's a violent wrenching and Dean collapses across the steering wheel.

"Dean!"

The pain let's up quickly and Dean lets out the breath he's been holding. A cloud of white puffs from his lips. Dean and Sam watch with shock and amazement as it twirls for a moments, and then travels up through the car roof.

"Do you think…?" Sam asks.

"Yeah." Dean nods and then starts the Impala. He frowns and then turns to Sam, "What did she mean by kiss?"

###

Uriel is talking to one of his fellow brothers about the seals when an angel bursts into their conversation.

"What is the meaning of this?"

The angel is low-level. Uriel doesn't even know his name. He does notice that the angel is carrying a soul, cradled in his hands.

"Brother Uriel." The angel says, and Uriel bites back the temptation to make him stand straight and address him properly. Those angels that work with the returning human souls are always a more tainted than the rest of them, and this one is practically vibrating with excitement.

"Yes, brother?" Uriel asks coldly. It seems to take a bit of energy out of the angel and Uriel is pleased.

"I know you have been looking for the vessels." He says.

Uriel's eyes immediately zone in on the cradled soul. "Is that the soul of one of the vessels?"

If it's Dean's soul then there has been a major mix-up and someone is going to pay.

"No, but this soul – Sandy – she has just arrived and…well…"

The angel offers the soul out and Uriel bites back a sigh. He hates doing this. Reluctantly he stretches out his grace to twine with the human and is immediately bombarded with the last thoughts and impressions.

He pulls back his grace with a thoughtful look.

The angel holding the soul looks at him questioningly, "Brother Uriel?"

Uriel turns, "Go get Brother Castiel for me." He says, "It seems I have found his missing charge."

###

Castiel doesn't expect the summons, but he doesn't keep Uriel waiting when it comes.

"Ah, Castiel." Uriel says with a smile when Castiel appears before him and kneels.

"Brother Uriel. What need have you of me?"

Uriel's smile becomes bigger and he motions Castiel to stand. "I have found your charge, Castiel. He is in New Orleans.

"You have been tasked to retrieve your vessel and contact him."

Castiel nods, "Yes, Brother Uriel."

"Come now," Uriel says gripping Castiel's shoulder, "We are friends. It is Uriel."

"Yes, Uriel." Castiel says and turns to leave.

Uriel's grip tightens for a moment, causing Castiel to look back.

"Let's find out why Dean Winchester is not in Hell, hmm?"