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Summary:

Before their world crashed down around them, Mary Winchester always wanted a daughter. When Dean wakes up as the wrong sex, Sam is having the time of his life mocking his big 'sister' and the boys have to take a pit stop to figure things out. NO WINCEST! I don't do that.

Disclaimer: You know the drill, don't own 'em but one day I will make my way to a crossroads and that'll all change…

So why is this chapter so short? And how come the story ain't over yet? Because I'm weird okay? Because it just feels… wrong ending on chapter number 11. It just feels like a wrong number to end on... OCD much? So yeah this was going to be the last chapter but instead I decided to split the last longer than normal chapter into two but the next chapter will be following shortly.

Thanks to everyone!

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11. Time is dripping

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The pair stood in silence after Dean's outburst, or at least Sam stood and Dean swayed. The eldest's eyes flew about wildly, searching for the ghost witch as his anger grew, making his head spin and breathing forced. He allowed himself to be lowered back to the ground as his brother told him to breathe, voice so calm… apart from the light quiver that could have either been from fear or a suppressed laugh, more likely a mixture of both.

"Steady… just take it easy. We'll sort this out." Sam spoke gently; the cogs already in motion as he attempted to come up with a better plan than just trying to stop his brother from panicking. Aside from the fact that his brother was hyperventilating over the still being female problem, Sam desperately wanted to look at and clean the 'lovebite' Dean was now sporting.

"Oh yeah? And how we gonna do that?" Dean sniped, trying and failing to stand back up.

"First, we get you cleaned up then… I'll figure something out."

"Nah, gotta burn the Kishi first." Dean groaned, using his brother as leverage as the youngest helped him to his feet once again.

"No." Sam insisted; wrapping an arm around Dean's midsection in order to keep him from falling back down, a blush finding its way onto his face as his hand brushed against one of Dean's perfect double Ds, "I don't want that wound getting infected so you end up getting a fever and I have to play nurse."

"So long as you're the one wearing the dress and not me…" Dean winced as he limped towards the exit with Sam's help, "…And the heels… they're all yours too."

"I'll leave the cross dressing to the pro's I think." Sam jibed back, letting his brother happily drop into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh. He rounded the car and climbed in, turning the key and setting off in the direction of the motel.

He turned his head sideways and studied his brother, hazel eyes closed and skin tone paler than Sam cared for. He grimaced at the blood staining Dean's top, wondering where else the Kishi had managed to injure before it finally got a bullet through its head. He'd already deduced that somehow Dean had injured his leg in the fray; he could tell as much by the way Dean nearly took them both down every time he tried to put too much weight on his left leg.

"How you holding up?" He asked as they neared their destination.

Dean cracked one eye open to look at his brother, an eyebrow raised as sarcasm laced his voice, "Just peachy."

"Good to hear it." Sam retorted, spinning the wheel as he pulled into the car park and parked up, "Think you can stay awake long enough for me to check you over?"

"That depends on how long you take."

Ignoring the comment, Sam rolled his eyes and was out of the car in a matter of seconds, coming round to the passenger side in order to once again aid Dean as the human crutch. The hardest part was keeping his brother awake as he fetched the first aid kid from one of their duffels as soon as they were inside the room.

Dean laid on the bed, legs hanging over the edge and eyes blinking open every couple of seconds as he tried to fight against the unconsciousness that threatened to claim him. He heard Sam shuffling about around him but he was too comfortable to look, eyes creeping closed once more until Sam roughly pulled him up and into a seated position.

"Saaam." He moaned, his eyes trying to focus so there was only one of Sam.

Sam looked into his brother's face, his brow creasing from uncertainty, "Did you hit your head Dean?"

Dean shrugged, groaning as Sam twisted his neck and moved his long matted hair so that he could get to work on the bite wound.

"Did you hit your head or not?" Sam asked once more, impatience in his voice.

"Maybe, yeah…" Dean answered, hissing when Sam applied the antiseptic. He resisted the urge to push Sam away and do the job himself, almost growling as Sam pressed down harder than was necessary.

"Better not give you any meds just in case then." He muttered more to himself than Dean, sticking a piece of gauze over the wound and finishing up before moving onto the next.

It took nearly an hour to get done, checking that the sprained ankle was nothing more than that, inspecting the lump that Dean claimed was his head for any smaller and more dangerous lumps or cuts and cleaning up every other claw mark that the Kishi had left on the eldest Winchester. And by the time Sam was packing away the first aid kit, Dean was thankful that the prodding and poking had stopped.

He knew that Sam would be going back to finish what they'd started and had his body not been protesting against every movement he made as he struggled in a pair of boxers and pulled on an oversized shirt, he would have objected, would have told Sam that there was no way he was letting him do it by himself. But the look of determination in the yougest's eyes was enough to ease Dean, to tell him that it was okay to take a time out whilst Sam finished up.

He crawled under the covers and stretched out; praying that the past twenty four hours had all been a dream.

Sam watched as his brother drifted off, gladly letting him slip into the land of nod now that he had decided the chance of him having a concussion was slim to none. He grabbed the keys to the Impala and an empty duffel by the door, filling it with the much needed ingredients for a salt and burn from the trunk of the car.

He found the Kishi's 'home' with little trouble this time, the scratty little house a reminder of what the Kishi had done. He parked the Impala a little way down the road and kept to the shadows as he walked towards the house, adjusting the duffel when he came to the door. Everything seemed to be exactly as they left it and he moved into the kitchen, making quick work of dousing the Kishi's body in accelerant and salt.

He was ready to light the match and throw it down when he heard a creak behind him. Cautiously, he turned around and headed into the hallway, taking notice of the door underneath the stairs for the first time as a gentle breeze blew it open a little before letting it rattle back against the frame.

Once upon a time, Dean had told him never to go wandering into dark basements alone but if Sam was right, he wasn't alone. He opened the door all the way, revealing the dark steps down into the murky cellar, half expecting Stacie to jump out at him. Even though the ghost remained unseen, he couldn't get rid of the niggling feeling that she was watching him.

He made his way down the steps, grabbing a flashlight from the duffel as he went and bringing his spare hand up to cover his mouth as he tried to stop from gagging. The beam of light floated over the bodies of the missing girls, mutilated and torn to pieces.

"Still can't rest in peace, eh? Stacie?" He asked the thin air, using the last of his salt and burning supplies to cover the bodies. He struck the match and tossed it down, already moving back up the stairs, another match in hand and ready to burn the Kishi.

By the time he was back in the Impala, the fire was slowly spreading through the house, burning it, cleansing it and he sat behind the wheel, watching to make sure that enough damage was done before the fire crew showed up.

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