Beginning Note: Hey-oh peeps! Sorry for the long wait for an update, but I'm hoping this chapter is good enough to be worth it. Thank you to everyone who reviewed this story and for all your positive feedback. And a special shout-out to psiChic for now following not just one, but two of my stories, and for also being so amazingly patient for my soon to be posted sequel to 'Doppelganger'. Luv ya girl!
Chapter Two
It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Turns Into A Girl
Trey had known before pushing open the door that he wasn't going to be received well. But he'd expected to be dealing with a freaked out guy-turned-gal who wouldn't have a clue how this could have happened. Instead he was facing a pissed-off and lethal man-turned-woman who looked prepared to murder him with his/her bare hands.
"You messed with the wrong Winchester." Dean's eyes bored into his own, promising a long painful death.
Shit. Did he just say Winchester? And here Trey'd been wondering how this could get any worse. In all his years, his many years, he couldn't think of a time he'd messed up a blood spell this much. Nothing like getting on the bad side of a hunter to say you're completely screwed.
Instead of his life flashing before his eyes, not that he believed in that sort of thing, he began an inner monologue in his head, trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong. He wished he had a pen and paper, since they might well be his last thoughts.
His self-reflection was interrupted when Dean started toward him, fists clenched in a way that suggested bodily harm would be happening unless he said something. And even if this Winchester was a good six inches shorter than he had been earlier that evening, Trey wasn't stupid enough to think the girl was any less of a threat than the man would be. So he said the first thing that came to mind.
"It wasn't my fault!" A beat of complete silence followed, during which Trey wanted to hit his head against the wall. That was just stupid. Of course it was his fault, at least partially if not mostly. Dean had just been talking to a stranger, not having the slightest clue what Trey was planning.
Dean wasn't buying his weak attempt at an excuse either. The hunter stopped his movement and stared at him incredulously, "Are you freaking kidding. Look at me!" Dean swept his hand over his new body. "I sure as hell didn't do this!"
It wasn't until then that Trey had actually taken the time to really notice the change. The 6'1" sturdily built man he'd met in the bar was gone. The now to large clothes hung over a smaller frame, thankfully hiding parts he didn't want to dwell too much on. His hair was the same dirty blonde color but looked completely different with thick long strands that seemed determined to fall in his green eyes. Dean reached up and brushed them back behind his ears with palpable irritation.
'She' was essentially was a smaller, more delicate, and definitely -wince- more curvy version of the man. In all honesty, if he had thought she was just an ordinary woman, Trey would have described her as drop-dead gorgeous, but there was no way in hell he would ever say that out loud.
It was in that moment that the absolute ridiculousness of the situation hit Trey like a ton of bricks. He was looking at a girl who really was a guy who was also a hunter because he had asked a question without thinking through all the possible answers he might be given. And now he was about to die at the hand of said girl/guy/hunter all because he hadn't had the presence of mind to make sure the answer was going to be in the realm of reason. And there was nothing he could do to change that. It really was funny when he stopped to think about it. So damn funny that he laughed. Albeit an hysterical, ohgodimabouttodie kind and if he dwelt on it, the laugh was closer to what could only be described as a giggle.
Oh for the love of god, shut up. He told himself. You're only digging the grave deeper. Yes he might be a 'supernatural' being, but he didn't fool himself into thinking that he was invulnerable. Truth be told for an immortal he was pretty easy to kill.
In the end it was Winchester who silenced him. With his fist.
Even as a girl the hunter had a damn wicked right hook.
- - - supernatural - - -
Earlier that evening-
It didn't take long before Sam decided that Dean didn't need, or probably want, him around. It was a sad irony since it had been Sam himself who had suggested they come to the Kountry Bar. He'd hoped that a more relaxed setting would help relieve the tension that had been ever increasing between him and his brother. He'd hoped that they could try talking about something other than a hunt for longer than two seconds.
His plans were quickly dashed when Dean immediately disengaged himself from Sam's presence within minutes of entering the bar. Instead of a long-needed conversation about what was going on with Dean and his recklessness and lack of communication, the deal with the crossroads demon, Ruby being a demon with the potential to help, and even Sam and his newfound knowledge he possessed demon blood, Sam was left sitting alone.
Frustration, irritation and worry all warred within him as he watched Dean begin the familiar motions of flirting with the first female he came in contact with. This was not going at all like he'd wanted it to.
By the time Dean finally came back, the youngest Winchester knew tonight was a lost cause. There would be no talking, or anything coming close to the 'chick flick' moments that his brother dreaded.
"Dean, I'm going to head back to our room," Sam said with barely concealed disappointment.
"Uhhuh..."
"Dean." Annoyance replaced disappointment. If Dean wouldn't talk to him, the least he could do was listen when Sam was speaking to him.
Turning his attention away from the flirtatious red head he was watching across the bar, Dean grinned at him, "I heard you. I know how much you need your beauty sleep, princess. I'll catch up with you later."
Even though his back was again turned Dean must have instinctively known Sam was giving him a pissed off glare. He reluctantly faced his brother again. "What?"
"I thought we'd already talked about this, Dean. You can't spend every moment partying."
"Comeon Sam, give me a break. We've been working this hunt for a week. Weren't you the one that said we should take a break and relax.? Are you really going to begrudge a guy even a little fun during the one year he has left?"
Sam had promised himself weeks earlier that he wasn't going to let Dean's cavalier attitude get to him. But his brother just wouldn't let up. Damnit, couldn't Dean lay off the dying jokes for just one night? It was like he was taunting Sam. See, I'm still dying here, you haven't saved me yet; and you never will. "I gave into your 'dying wish' to visit your old flame, Lisa. That was your last one. You've spent months 'celebrating'. And while we're on this subject, I'm tired of this Dean."
"Tired of what?" Blank look.
"Of having you joke about you dying in a year. You acting like you don't care that you're going to hell."
Comprehension and grin, "What can I say? I'm a realist. And you, my brother, are living in a world of denial."
"I'm in denial?" Sam gaped. That was just the straw that broke the camels back. He opened his mouth again to begin what he knew was going was going to the start of another argument but before Sam could start his brother interrupted.
"Do we have to talk about this now, Sam?" Dean asked tiredly, his smirk slipping for a moment before it returned, "I promised Cherry over there I wouldn't be long and you're liable to go on for hours."
Sam's shoulder slumped slightly in defeat. He just couldn't seem to reach Dean anymore these days. It was fine that Dean talked about his death but if Sam tried to broach the subject he was shut out. Sometimes Sam could swear the snick of a lock turning was almost audible. Recognizing this conversation as a lost cause, and now too drained and tired to care he stood up. Sam angrily glared down at Dean who just tilted his head up defiantly. "Fine, don't talk to me. If fact, why don't we just stop talking to each other at all. I'm sure that'll help solve all our problems."
Sam turned and walked out.
If he'd looked back he would have seen that instead of rejoining the red-head, Dean purposely ignored her and sat down on the other side of the bar. But he didn't look and Sam was long gone by the time the stranger with grey eyes joined his brother.
- - - supernatural - - -
Sam walked- or more accurately, stormed- into the room the Winchester brothers had made their temporary HQ during the last week. While he managed to restrain himself from slamming the door shut, he tossed the door key onto the nearest table with a little more force than was called for. It skittered across the top and almost fell off, but managed to hang on, half dangling.
Hanging by a thread, just like Sam's faith and belief that he could save Dean.
A lot of good all that faith had done him, he thought as he angrily shrugged off his jacket and draped it over a chair.
He'd spent weeks researching, all free hours had been devoted to pouring over books and scouring the internet for anything he could find that could help and what did Sam have to show for it? Nothing. Nada. Zip. Squat. And now that Dean had banned anymore looking for a way out of the deal he'd been reduced to hiding all his efforts, going behind his brothers back.
All his initial optimism and confidence that he would find a loophole had pretty much died soon after their run-in with the seven deadly sins, even though Sam had stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. He'd continued searching, calling Bobby at ungodly hours to see if the man had been able to find anything. But the enthusiasm and self-assurance had vanished. Then Ruby had come along and revived the dwindled flame of desperate hope with the promise that she could do something.
Sighing in frustration, Sam reached over to the lamp next to the table and clicked on the light.
He almost missed the quick movement, but as soon as he saw the shadow moving, Sam went for the nearest gun. His hands had just closed over the Desert Eagle .45 when a voice came from behind him, close to his ear, "Boo."
He whirled around, finger tightening on the trigger. Once upon a time he had argued against Dean's 'shoot first ask questions later' reaction. However after the last couple years he'd come to understand that hesitation only got you killed. In his case, literally. Just because he hadn't been willing to kill, didn't meant Jake wouldn't be either. Hindsight was always 20/20 and it sucked out loud to realize where he'd made his mistake. Sam was determined that would never happen again. But when he saw his uninvited intruder he stopped short. Dammit, speak of the devil...
With a grin, Ruby pushed the gun pointed at her away, "Is this how you're going to welcome me every time I come to talk?"
Sam ignored her question and didn't loosen his grip on the gun, "What are you doing here?" He demanded.
A delicate eyebrow raised, "You haven't given me an answer yet to my offer."
"I didn't kill you, that should be answer enough." He gritted out.
"I thought that saving your brother would be of utmost importance to you." She shrugged carelessly, "But then, maybe you don't care as much about Dean as you pretend to."
That was the thing about demons, they tended to get under the skin both literally and figuratively. They always seemed to know what buttons to push to get a reaction. Nothing got to Sam as much as someone questioning his devotion to his brother.
"Get out of here, Ruby. This isn't a good time." He said, gripping the gun firmer. He was tired from the latest hunt, frustrated by his fight with Dean, and the last thing he needed was this. Sam really didn't want to deal with the demon right now.
Her lips pouted out, "Is that a yes or no."
There also had been a time when Sam would have tried the pleading 'puppy-dog' route first, but that day had come and gone. "Get. Out."
"Fine," She snapped, dropping her act for a second. She made her way to the door with an almost childish sulky attitude and opened it before turning around, "We'll talk again later then." She promised with a sickeningly pleasant smile. The door shut firmly behind her, leaving Sam alone in the motel room.
It took a few minutes to shake off the tension Ruby's 'visit' had brought, but he finally reached for his carrying case and pulled his laptop out. He set the Desert Eagle next to the computer, still wanting it within easy access in case 'later' was sooner than he wanted it to be.
Taking his laptop out of hibernation he checked his e-mail. 4 new messages.
A few clicks later he read through them. They were all replies from the dozens of e-mails he'd sent out weeks earlier to contacts he, Dean, and even their father had established over the years. All four said the same basic thing. There was no way to break a deal with a crossroads demon. Just like every other response he'd been given.
Sam sighed and rubbed his temple in frustration. There truly was not going to be an easy solution. So far Ruby was the only one who'd said that a deal was even possible to be broken, much less offer to help. Not that she was doing it from the kindness of her heart.
Demons lie, Sam knew that. But sometimes they tell the truth. And so far everything Ruby had told him, what she had led him to discover about his mother's friends and family, all of it checked out so far. And as much as he wanted to be realistic, when it came to his brothers future Sam would cling to the slimmest chance that he could keep Dean from going to hell. That's the only thing that had kept Sam from sending the demon packing back to where she had come from.
He hadn't agreed to help her yet, the very idea of allying himself with the enemy brought a bitter taste to his mouth, but he couldn't kill -or exorcize- her while she dangled a way to save Dean like a carrot in front of him. But Sam's resistence to verbally accept her 'proposal' was more show than anything, and she probably knew it. In the end, he was going to do whatever it took to stop Dean's deal from being carried through.
Sam hadn't told Dean about Ruby yet. He wanted to, but he couldn't find the right time to bring it up. He had a good idea how his brother was going to react, and he needed to find a way to get Dean to see that they needed her. Sam had the sinking feeling, though, that he would never get Dean to view things his way.
Dean just didn't understand how Sam felt. Dean said he saw the light at the end of tunnel, and that he was okay with it- was actually okay with the fact that the light was hellfire. And the fact that his brother didn't care what was going to happen or where he was going scared Sam. The older man wanted to spend the year living life like it was one giant holiday; Christmas, birthday, and a bachelor party all rolled into one. And all Sam could see was an hourglass on the table, the grains of sands of time slowly slipping away.
It didn't help that Dean refused to talk about anything that didn't directly relate to the current hunt or the bra size of the woman across the bar. His brothers world suddenly was revolving entirely on sex and hunting. Oh, and eating and drinking. Dean had never been one to turn down food, but it was getting ridiculous now. Sam finally had to draw the line at bringing food with them while they hunted when two weeks earlier Dean tried to dig a grave with a shovel in one hand and a ham sandwich in the other.
Despite his frustration, Sam couldn't help but let his lip twitch at the mental snapshots he had of Dean determinedly digging, pausing ever few moments to take a bite. When Sam finally suggested he take a turn so Dean could finish the sandwich that he so obviously had to eat - said with appropriate sarcasm - his brother had just said Nah, I'm good. At least that's what he thought the other hunter had said. It was hard to understand around the mouthful of food Dean had felt compelled to take a bite of before he spoke, followed by a slightly distorted -but still recognizable- cocky grin that so often graced his older brothers face.
God, it was moments like that Sam to remember, to have more of. The times when Dean was just being himself, quirky as he might be. No masks, no walls, no brave facade that shouted 'I'm a bad-ass hunter who feels no fear, pain, or remorse'. Sam wanted his brother, not a fucking Terminator.
Sighing Sam put away the laptop. He checked his watch and was surprised to find it was later than he'd expected. How time flies when you're brooding over your brother's impending death, he thought humorlessly.
His eyes wandered over to the door as if expecting Dean to walk in any moment and tell him to snap out of his girlish funk and grow a pair, but the door remained firmly closed.
Sam rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. The many late nights tapping on his computer and researching were finally catching up with him. He might as well get some sleep. He knew that staying up and waiting for Dean to return would be pointless, especially in light that they were now officially in the middle of a fight after their small scene at the bar. Reconciliation would have to wait until tomorrow. After Dean had his coffee.
Sam quickly took a five minute shower and crawled into his bed. He made sure that the gun still was within arm reach, still slightly paranoid with Ruby's appearance.
Already half-asleep, he looked over at the empty bed next to his.
Come back soon Dean.
- - - supernatural - - -
Despite the seriousness of his situation Dean allowed himself a self-satisfied smirk. Even as a girl I can kick ass.
He tried to ignore the fact that the amount of strength and power he'd put into his swing would have normally knocked a man out and possibly broken the jaw. However Trey defied all attempts at denial by continuing to remain conscious.
And oww... his fingers frickin' hurt. Dean tried to inconspicuously rub his injured hand.
"Shit," the other man rubbed his jaw and glared up at Dean, "You didn't have to do that."
What, let you continue to make that stupid giggling sound for another second? I think not. "I really, really, felt like it." He watched the forming small bruise where his fist had landed with approval.
Trey looked up warily, "Feel better now that you've knocked me down?"
"Not especially." Dean wanted to do some serious damage to this guy. The shock and horror of his predicament from earlier was fading and being replaced by red hot anger. The hunter part of him pushed to the forefront and he looked down at Trey calculatingly.
Although not in anyway intimidating in appearance, Trey looked both intelligent and resourceful. He appeared to be in his late twenties early thirties, but one couldn't judge a supernatural's age by physical looks. For all Dean knew the guy was thousands of years old.
"I guess I'd be safer down here then." Trey said with resignation.
"You're not going to be safe anywhere," Dean told him pointedly. He bent down, keeping eye contact, and pulled the small knife he kept strapped at his ankle out of its sheath. Silver, thrice blessed, with small symbols etched all along the blades face, the weapon shone with appropriate menace. Trey's steel eyes widened.
Crouching down, only slightly taller than Trey's sprawled figure, Dean grinned, "Now let's try starting this back at the beginning," the forced pleasantness in his tone was like a small sign flashing danger, danger. "What the hell did you do to me?"
"Aww, comon, I don't think the knife is necessary..." when Dean simply stared at him, Trey hurried on, "But I guess I don't have much say in what you do...soooo, why don't you calm down a bit while I explain."
The hunter glared, "I'll calm down once you reverse whatever you did."
"I can't."
Dean's mind immediately interpreted can't as won't, "Wrong answer." His grip on the knife tightened.
"Wait, stop! I really can't. It was a blood spell, irreversible on my part. But...!" his voice rose a fraction when Dean brought the sharp edge of the weapon closer, "It's probably not permanent." The knife pulled back and Trey let out a sigh of relief.
"Not permanent, this...girl thing... it will just go away? I'll go back to normal?" Dean let out a relieved breath. The thought of being a girl for the rest of his life, no matter how short it was going to be was too horrible, almost worse than the actually thought of dying. Then his eyes narrowed, thinking through Trey's words, "Wait, what do you mean probably? I might really stay this way for the rest of my life!?" Horror and panic were back.
"It depends."
"On what!"
"On how much you meant what you said."
"About being a girl?" Dean's voice was incredulous. Trey nodded. Well that was just great. Now everything hinged on how serious he'd been. "I'm pretty freakin certain I wasn't serious."
"I didn't think you were either. But that's not what I meant. The spell is only as strong as how seriously you believed your answer to my question." He put up a hand to forestall the question forming on Dean's lips, "Don't ask me why it works that way, that's just the way the cookie crumbles. The question was: what would it take for you and your brother to relate to each other and talk. Your answer: 'The day I..'"
"'...turn into a girl." Dean finished with quiet horror.
"So Dean, did you truly believe that it would take you changing into a girl for you to be able to talk with Sam?" It was obvious that Trey was hoping to be told that Dean thought there was hundreds of better ways that would allow him to have a normal heart to heart type conversation with Sam.
Dean felt the blood drain from his face. The comment had been a spur of moment thought, but at the same time he had known then, just as he did now, that it would take some kind of cataclysmic event to break through the wall of silence between the Winchester brothers. His manly body being swapped for a woman's was overshooting cataclysmic by a mile and broaching the borders of apocalyptic in his book.
"Okay, assuming I really meant what I said, how long will this spell thing last?" He sighed in resignation. Please let this be a fairy god mother 'spell ends at the first stroke of midnight' kind of deal...
"Days, weeks, months..." Trey hesitated a moment before admitting,"...forever."
"Oh god, I am so screwed," misery poured from every feminine feature. He buried his face in his unoccupied hand, fingers clenching fistfuls of hair in a faux attempt to pull the unfamiliar silky locks from his head.
Trey winced. "I'm sorry. If it helps, I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
Dean lifted his head, "No, it really doesn't help."
"It still might just wear off..." Trey sounded doubtful, but probably realized that his life still hung in the balance so optimism was in his best interest.
"There must be some other way to reverse this, anything that can make me normal again?" Dean wouldn't accept that he might be doomed to remain a woman.
"I don't know," the other man said helplessly, "I've never had someone not want my gift."
"This isn't a gift, it's a curse!"
Trey didn't take kindly to what he considered his 'gift' being dissed, "Well, if I'd known you were going to say something so completely stupid I wouldn't have done the spell. Most people keep their answers within the realm of reason; they want better jobs, a girlfriend, bigger breasts."
Dean crossed his arms over his chest at the mention of breasts. "Well you could have mentioned that my answer was going to be taken so seriously. 'By the way, whatever you say will become reality' would have been just fine.
"Look, Winchester, this was not what I intended to happen. And I know you're really pissed at me, and no I'm not sure there's anyway to turn you back , but I truly did have the best of intentions. I thought I could help you and your brother work out whatever your problems were."
Dean deflated a little bit at Trey's speech. Once his anger had fizzled out and he'd come to understood his situation better, it had become visible that Trey wasn't evil and hadn't done this to him deliberately. That didn't mean he was just going to forgive the grey-eyed supernatural, but Dean wasn't sure annihilation was necessary anymore either.
"Guess you didn't count on how screwed up we are." He allowed a corner of his mouth to twitch up.
Trey snorted, "No shit. You win the award for most dysfunctional family."
"That's probably the only thing I'll ever win."
Both fell into an uncomfortable silence. Dean reached a decision and put his knife back in it's sheath to Trey's relief.
"So...what now?" he finally ventured
The blonde hunter pursed his lips seriously before announcing his conclusion, "I've decided not to kill you..."
"That's a good start." He most definitely approved.
"...Yet."
Trey grimaced.
"You, in return for not being killed despite of how very much I want to, will do whatever it takes to find a way to turn me back to being the handsome chick-magnet man I was meant to be. Aside from that, I want to get out of this damn bathroom."
Trey looked at Dean, or more specifically, the girl's body that was practically falling out of the man's clothes, "The first one I agree to. A most fair offer if I might say. The second might be a little difficult. You're not exactly going to be inconspicious going out of the men's room wearing that."
"I don't see any windows or girl clothes magically appearing so at this point I don't see another option." Dean stood up and moved towards the door, but in a horrible twist of Fate -she obviously hated Dean- the movement ruined whatever miracle was holding his jeans up and they fell down, pooling over small, delicate ankles and revealing long, slender legs. Thankfully his shirt was now long enough to keep some semblance of modesty but Dean felt his face flush as he caught sight of himself in one of the mirrors. "Sonuvabitch..."
In what was already ranking up there in the most embarrassing moments of his life, insult to injury was added when the bathroom door began swinging open and a twenty-some walked in. The young man's eyes widened at the unexpected sight, looking at Dean's half-dressed state then at Trey who stood in his own state of mild shock.
For one horribly long moment all three stood still, none quite sure what to do. Finally, the man mumbled some kind of apology and nearly killed himself reopening the door to leave.
The sound of the door banging shut ringing in his ears, Dean covered his face yet again with his hands. God, this really couldn't get much worse.
He turned to see Trey's mouth hanging slightly open, eyes glued to the uncovered legs. Looking back in the mirror, Dean had to admit they were the nicest pair of legs he'd seen in a long time. Then he snapped out of it. No way! No way in hell was he going to start drooling over his own body. That was just...wrong.
With a glare directed at Trey, he quickly bent down and pulled the pants back up, holding them up with one hand. "You..." he pointed a accusing finger, "if you ever look at me like I'm a woman again..."
The other man's eyes snapped up, seeming appalled by his own reaction, and he held up his hands in surrender and swore vehemently, "Never, never again."
"Good. Now give me your belt."
Trey wrinkled his nose but didn't argue. He undid the leather belt and handed it to Dean, who looped it through the jeans, notching it at the smallest hole to keep them up. He also ended up rolling up the jean legs to keep from tripping over them anymore. There was nothing to be done about the shoes four sizes too small, or the shirt that reached past his hips. Dean scanned the room before he saw his leather jacket laying on the ground in one of the stalls. He picked it up and pulled it on before returning to look back in the mirror.
"This will have to do for now." He finally said after staring at his reflection for a long moment. He turned to Trey resolutely "Let's go."
Dean opened the door and tried his best to act normal as he left the relative safety of the bathroom. Unfortunately there wasn't any way to not be noticed in his new state. He ignored the stares he got from the people nearest him and headed to the bars exit, which as luck would have it was across the room. He just wanted to get his over with.
He started to pick up his pace when he saw a couple of seedy looking men in the corner zero in on him. After a brief conversation, one of them, a bulky blonde with a scruffy beard left his group and planted himself between Dean and the beckoning freedom of the door just a few yards away.
Dean faltered to a stop. Maybe, this hadn't been the best plan. A quick look back showed Trey just exiting the men's room. Too late to stop now. He squared his shoulders and tried to walk past, but the man moved again to block his path.
"Hey now sweetheart, where're ya heading off to?" The blonde said pushing his hairy face down into Dean's, coming closer than Dean was comfortable with. His nose wrinkled at the smell of alcohol on the man's breath.
"Whaaa..." Dean wasn't the type to be caught off guard but this was not a situation he'd ever encountered before. Ever. Despite the occasional person who, for whatever reason, thought he was gay, he had never had a guy hit on him before. He intentionally chose female marks to get information from and at bars he never wasted any time getting feminine companionship. This...this was completely new to Dean, and he didn't like it.
Dean gritted his teeth and tried to move away from the man determined to ignore personal space but his response only seemed to encourage the other man. Swaying a little, he moved even closer, leering down at Dean.
"The name's Nate, how's about we go over to that booth over there and introduce ourselves properly," Nate's hand closed over Dean's arm, and began pulling him over to where the rest of his friends sat.
His skin crawling at the sudden touch, Dean jerked back, pushing the man's hand off, his eyes blazing. "Don't touch me." His fist clenched, preparing to punch someone for the second time in the last hour.
"Oooh, feisty little thing aren't ya," Nate grinned wolfishly. "I like that in my women."
The man didn't even see the fist coming before it hit him square in the nose. Dean felt the cartilage give way with a satisfying squish. "I said, Don't. Touch. Me." His voice was hard, and furious.
Rearing back, Nate swore loudly and wiping a hand over the injured area, coming away with blood on his finger. "What the...you bitch!"
What could have ended in further bloodshed was saved by Trey's timely appearance. He stepped between Dean and Nate.
"Lets go." He tugged at Dean's jacket, trying to get him to move, but the hunter stubbornly refused.
Nate narrowed his eyes at Trey, "Hey, this your girl?" He demanded.
Trey's eyes widened for a moment, but took the opening his was given, "Yes, yes, she's my...girlfriend!" he choked out the last part. Dean finally moved, but only to turn his glare on the newly minted boyfriend. Not deterred, Trey looked over at Nate and tried to look appropriately apologetic. "I'm sorry, man. My girl here was just overreacting, she didn't mean to really hurt you. Did you, baby?" 'She' glowered behind Trey, belying his words. Hell, yeah he had.
Nate relaxed a little, one hand still cupping his nose, "Didn't know she was taken." he offered, as if that made it alright, "It was jus'a mistake."
"Yeah, mistake," Trey let out a breath of relief. This could have gone really, really bad if Nate had decided to take retaliation for Dean's actions on him.
Nate began to move away, back to his friends. He stopped however and looked at Trey and advised, "I suggest you keep better control over your woman, man, or someone's going to do it for you." He turned back around and moved out of sight.
Trey barely managed to grab Dean before the hunter went after Nate. He ended up nearly dragging Dean out of the bar. Trey stopped and let go of the jacket when they reached the parking lot.
Dean fumed, "What the hell, man!?"
Trey wasn't intimidated, "What were you thinking? We already have one more problem than we can handle, the last thing we needed was an out and out bar fight! I hate to break it to you, Dean, but you're not exactly the imposing force to be reckoned with that you were. Right now all anybody sees when they look at you is a woman."
"Thanks for the reminder, I'd almost forgotten about that," he snapped, but felt his anger deflate as the adrenaline rush he'd been on also dissipated.
Dean began silently walking toward his Impala and Trey followed him.
"Okay, what now?" The supernatural asked.
"I don't know." Dean said, honestly. He hadn't been thinking further than getting out of the bar. "You're the one who's supposed to find some kind of loophole out of this spell thing. What do you suggest?"
"I do have some..." he looked at Dean meaningfully, "..friends who might know something or know someone who might be able to help. I'll start with them and work my way down to some of my...ah..not so much friends."
"Good, that's a start," he agreed, feeling a little more hopeful. Trey having connections in the supernatural realm was a definite asset. I knew that not killing the guy would pay off.
"But, I'm not sure any of them will help me if I have a hunter hounding my every step. Or if they know that I'm actually helping out a Winchester. The name isn't so popular in this circle, at least not in the good way. Most of them would be more likely to kill you than help. Or at the very least buy front row tickets to 'Dean Winchester: Life As A Girl, the comedy'" Trey said pointedly.
Dean hesitated. His instinct, which admittedly had gone wonky earlier when he'd first trusted Trey but was usually reliable, told the hunter that Trey wasn't evil. And if he'd wanted to run, he could have many times over already. So, Dean concluded, Trey seemed to genuinely willing to help correct his mistake. Before the vamp Lenore, he might never had believed that anything Supernatural could be good, but he was slowly realizing that there was a lot more grey than he'd believed. And he was running out of options.
"Okay," Dean finally decided, "I guess I have no choice but to let you go off on your own. But you will stay in contact with me the entire time. And let me know if you turn up anything." He allowed his voice to mimic his father's commanding tone. The one that said 'obedience is the only acceptable response'.
"Agreed," the other man nodded. "What'll you do?"
"Uhhh...not sure yet."
"I guess you're going to have to talk to you brother, explain what happened. Samuel...isn't it?" Trey suggested.
"Sam." Dean said automatically, already moving ahead in his mind. He'd hadn't really thought about having to tell Sam..well in this case he'd probably have to show him...what had happened.
How the hell do you tell your brother he just lost a brother and gained a sister through a stupid answer to some magical spell thingy that this guy named Trey, who is some kind of supernatural wish granter, cast cause he was trying to help solve their unresolved communication issues?
'Why don't we just stop talking to each other at all. I'm sure that'll help solve all our problems.' His brothers words rang in his ear.
How do you tell your brother you're a woman now?
Dean's decision: You don't.
- - -supernatural- - -
A/N1: Oh my. Yeah, that about sums it up.
btw, I actually did a little research for deciding what Dean would do.
Me: Hey, bro, I have a question that I need answered from a guys perspective
Brother: What is it?
Me: If you were magically turned into a girl one day, would you a) tell me or b) run like hell and do everything you could to make sure I don't find out.
Brother: Uhhhh...I'd have to go with running like hell.
So there you go. Apparently guys would (hypothetically) rather die than tell a sibling they've changed gender. And yes, in case you're wondering, my brother is actually used to questions like that from me.
A/N2: I don't have a lot of notes to go along with this chapter as I feel it pretty much speaks for itself, so I'll leave you with a promise of another angst/humor filled chapter on it's way and the always expected shameless plead for reviews.
Remember: Reviews are like single m&m's. Each one you get is the best you've ever had.
- Kerri B.