A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! I think I got more for the last chapter than for any other. Yay! I apologize for not replying to all of them, I'm just so darn busy with holiday stuff.
Also, I'm sorry for leaving everyone on a such an...unusual... chap ending. But you guys seemed to have liked it, so I'm hoping everyone will find the answer to Angelina Jolie's appearance - and the ensuing chaos- entertaining. As for the question 'what was I drinking': the answer is Mountain Dew; I swear every time I drink it I get practically giddy and write the strangest things.
In this chapter you can look forward to the appearance of our much-missed Sam, Dean's struggle to survive at Trey's apartment, and a look at Trey's mildly dysfunctional family life. Enjoy!
Then: Dean's still a girl; Sam continues to slumber in blissful ignorance; Trey attempts to help - again; Angelina Jolie bitch-slaps Dean.
Chapter 4
It Won't Be Soon Before Long
It looked like a war zone. Ground zero for a bomb. Trey wanted to almost cry at the sight of his bedroom, the place that was his sanctuary - not to mention home of some of the best nights of his life, being destroyed within minutes. He was a guy, though, so crying was definitely out of the question. That was sweat rolling down his cheek, goddammit!
He'd decided two seconds in that getting in the middle of the two women facing off might end with his body ripped into shreds. Tiny, little, itsy-bitsy, sorry-you're-completely-unidentifiable shreds. Or a pile of ashes from the twin death glares aka laser eyes. That would also make him unidentifiable. No, his family deserved so much more than a little jar with a pile of black dust. He deserved better.
Contrary to how this day had been going, Trey was not an idiot or suicidally inclined. He came to the life-preserving realization that his best option would to just let this run it's course.
Trey had to keep reminding himself of that as the desecration of his bedroom/sanctuary continued.
If this was a movie instead of reality, he might have actually enjoyed the view. It was Angelina Jolie vs Jennifer Anniston. Okay, not really, but that's almost what it looked like. Did that make him Brad Pitt? Trey self-consciously looked down at himself. Nope.
He saw a blur as one of the fighting figures was thrown backward with surprising force.
Bump.
The dresser fell over, drawers and clothes spilling out. The fallen woman reached a hand out, grabbing the nearest object, and swung upward.
Crash.
There went the vase his sister had given him. He personally thought it was the ugliest thing he'd ever seen so it wasn't a real loss but Alicia was going to kill him when she found out.
Thump.
Now blonde and brunette hair seemed to mingle in a tangle of flying arms and legs as one of them tackled the other. They fell onto the bed with twin shrieks.
Rip.
Goodbye sheets, he thought sadly.
Just let it run it's course, just let it run it's course...
That idea lasted as long as it took for one of the woman to wrap her hands around the others neck and start squeezing.
Trey realized that the 'do nothing' plan was not going to work. Not while his wife was trying to choke the life out of Dean.
- - supernatural - -
10 minutes earlier
Trey leaned against the bedroom door as soon as he closed it, leaving Winchester alone. He felt ridiculously relieved to be out of the hunters sight. Dean said he wasn't going to kill him but Trey felt safer putting as much distance as possible between him and a knife-wielding woman. Better safe than sorry.
With a backward glance at the bedroom, trying not to think about the fact Dean was going through his wife's clothes, Trey moved into the livingroom and dropped down onto the futon that Amy had insisted on buying a couple weeks earlier. He hated it, but he'd learned early on in marriage that men didn't get a choice about what kind of furniture was in their house. The only thing he'd managed to successfully put his foot down with was the pink theme for the bedroom she'd originally set her heart on; wallpaper, sheets, comforter, and all. He refused to sleep in a room that reminded him of cotton candy. The weeks of cold showers had so been worth it.
He was already chewing himself out over inviting a hunter into his home. How stupid was that! He could only thank his lucky stars that Amy wasn't going to be home for a few days. His wife would have a torn him a new one, first off for using a blood spell and second for letting a complete stranger wear her clothes; there'd be the banging of pots and pans, the horrible silent treatment broken only by short sentences that were minuscule decibels below shrieks, and oh god, no sex for months. Trey let himself feel very relieved to have dodged that bullet.
So, first problem solved, we have successfully solved clothing crisis. What now? I'm way past the point of running - should have known better than to ignore first instincts - looks like I'm going to have to see this through to the end. Please let this have end...I was always a sucker for the happily-ever-after endings. Now you're rambling, Trey. Stop that! Focus and think. Okay, on to the next thing, finding a way to reverse my spell. I swear I'm hearing the Mission Impossible theme...
Trey frowned when he realized he really was hearing music. It took him a few more seconds to realize that it was his cell phone playing the Mission Impossible theme. Should have known better than to randomly choose ring tones. He lifted it up and grimaced at the sight of his cousins name on caller id.
"This is really not a good time, Adrian..."
"Shit, dude, I haven't talked to you in like months-"
"It's been two days." Trey said, rolling his eyes.
"Oh...well..." Adrian seemed to flounder for a moment, "huh, really?"
"Yes. However since you were obviously completely wasted and crying over some chick named Sasha dumping you, I think it's best we both forget it ever happened."
Considering the hour he'd spent listening to the rambles of a drunken Trickster at the ungodly hour of 2 in the morning, Trey wasn't feeling very charitable toward Adrian. He had his own troubles to deal with, dammit.
"Oh," Adrian said again, having the grace to sound contrite, "Sorry?"
"Yeah, whatever." He hoped the other had suffered the mother of all headaches the next day. It took a whole hell of a lot of liquor to affect a Trickster. Adrian had probably emptied out whatever seedy bar he'd picked to have his post break-up bender.
Trey was ready to end the conversation with some lame excuse, but Adrian took the momentary lull as a sign of a sympathetic ear. "So, Sasha dumped me. I mean, I know I should have expected it, but I figured that we were just going through a phase..." And off he went, spilling his woes.
Trey sighed. He didn't have the time for this. Dean could come out anytime now expecting him to have some kind of plan for his next move. And he had jack.
He'd overheard most of Dean's conversation to his friend Bobby, but the hunter hadn't elaborated on what his great idea was to keep his brother oblivious. Trey still couldn't fathom why the hell the stubborn idiot was so dead against telling Sam. Seriously, how hard could it be to just talk to each other?
'Sam, I'm a woman.' he'd say. Sure the brother might freak a little, but those two dealt with supernatural shit every day. He'd finally tell him, 'Don't worry Dean, we'll get through this together, as a family. We should use this opportunity that was given to work out our problems.' Dean would realize Sam's logic, 'You're right, this is a blessing in disguise, lets have that heart to heart that we've needed for months.'And voila! All would be right with them again.
It would have worked so perfectly, Trey thought wistfully.He suddenly became aware that Adrian was still talking.
"So, she said 'Adrian, I'm tired of all this going out and making mischief thing you're doing. Either you stop or I'm leaving.' and I'm like 'Darlin I'm a Trickster, it's what I do. I can't stop causing chaos and mayhem anymore than you can stop drinking blood.' So she packed up her bags and moved out. Typical vampire. You know what they say; can't live with them and can't kill them either
Trey had enough of his cousins rambling, "Shut up! Please, please stop talking. I have my own problems right now, Adrian. Serious, life-and-death type problems."
Adrian halted, and a few blessed moments of silence ensued before without missing a beat he began talking again, "Amy catch you blood spell casting again? Man, what have I told you! You can't let her run all over you like that. Stand up for yourself, like I did with Sasha...just tell her 'Baby, I'm a..."
"She left you after you said that!"
"...and it's what I do." Adrian finished, not listening, "Amy just needs to chill, it's not like you're hurting anybody. You've got like the most constricting wish-granting gift ever. You ask a question and they answer it. If they don't mean what they say, it doesn't work. What's the worst you could do to someone?"
Trey grimaced, but didn't take the bait. "I mean it, Adrian. I don't have time for this. Why are you even calling me?"
"Tonight was Sasha and mine's turn to host couples game night. So now I'm here all by my lonesome watching the three other happy couples laugh and play scrabble in my livingroom, eating my chips. Penny and Dave - you remember them, the werewolves from Cheyenne?- are all lovey-dovey, it's really disgusting. I guess I'm lucky that Carissa and Jesse didn't come, ever since she became pregnant those two don't seem to know the meaning of discretion, they can't keep there hands off each other-."
"I get the idea," Trey cut him short. A thought occurred to him, "Wait, Carissa Mallory?"
"Yeah, why, you know her?"
"Amy went to visit her for the week, help her out with the baby."
"Well, I guess you're in luck then buddy, cause your woman will probably be surprising you with an early return."
"What do you mean?" Trey's stomach dropped.
"Carissa's mother-in-law came into town a few days earlier than expected. Her and Jesse were whining about how all their friends and anyone within 5 miles of their house decided to leave ten minutes into her visit. Something about the continual screeching..."
"I think she's a banshee, Adrian." Trey commented, his mind all in a whirl. Amy wasn't at her friend's house? Then where was she?
Whether it a strange coincidence or some deity's attempt to answer his question, the door to the apartment suddenly opened and Amy walked in.
"Shit!" Trey body went into auto-pilot and he threw himself over and behind the futon. For the first time he was actually happy to have the piece of furniture. He crouched down and pressed the cellphone against his ear again. "Shit, shit, shit!" Trey repeated in a whisper.
"What is it!" Adrian's alarmed voice sounded.
He heard Amy shuffling into the livingroom, "Trey, honey, are you here?"
"Amy's home," He hissed.
"So?"
"So...that is bad. Seriously, life and death type bad."
"Why."
Trey wasn't the kind of person the immediately buckle under pressure, but he was under a lot of stress - nobody had the right to judge him for just saying what the problem was, "Because there's a woman in the bedroom."
There was complete and utter shocked silence for a moment. "I hope you're joking." Adrian finally said.
"No, believe me I wish I were." he said miserably.
"Then I guess now is as good a time as any for me to hang up."
"What! Wait..."
"Dude, there's nothing in this world or the next that would make me suffer through another woman's screaming rants. I feel your pain, I really do. If you need a place to stay for a while or drinking buddy, I'm here for you. Call me if you're still alive." With that last bit of encouragement, Adrien hung up and Trey was left completely alone with his wife.
Facing the inevitable, he reluctantly popped his face up and over the futon and tried to smile, "Hi honey, welcome home."
- - supernatural - -
Amy was not a happy woman. This week was supposed to have been a week of relaxation and vacation. Okay, technically she was really going to help Carissa with her new baby. Her friend had practically begged her to come and meet the newest addition and even though Amy wasn't the cuddly, 'oh look it's a baby how cute' type of person, she'd given in. It had actually been an almost enjoyable experience. And she'd learned that she didn't really mind the little things known as infants- except for the diaper changing part which was the grossest thing she'd ever seen in her life. But it all had been rudely been interrupted by Carissa's banshee mother-in-law.
Amy cursed the man who'd caused the disruption in her vacation by dying earlier than expected. Apparently James Cavanagh had a heart attack immediately after the banshee tried to warn him of his impending death in three days. The bastard...
Not that she could truly blame the man. Spending more than a few seconds with Diedre Mallory was enough the make anyone want to die just to get away from her. One minute listening to the woman's ear-exploding 'talking', if one could even call it that, and Amy made a hurried escape.
She'd spent the last six hours riding in the back of a bus, two of which also included an overly friendly man invading personal space.
Suffice to say, she had a lot of tension that she needed to work off. And she knew exactly how.
Making a quick stop in the public restrooms at the bus stop, Amy quickly changed her face and outfit. It wasn't really cold enough outside to warrant the scarf, but it would keep anyone from looking too closely at her face.
She walked out onto the street and was immediately knocked to the ground by a teenager not paying attention. He at least had the manners to apologize and help her up. But in the process the scarf was knocked out of place.
The young man's eyes widened, "Y..you're you... how... what... Ang-" he barely managed to stutter out.
Amy rolled her eyes in annoyance. Great. She put on her best terror-inspiring glare on him, which proved effective as he quailed under it. "Yes, I know. Now get out of my sight. Shoo." She used her hands to emphasize the words and he scampered off, pausing only once to look at her again. Amy turned the death glare on again and was gratified with a hasty out and out run.
She smiled. Wow, maybe it was the effect of her new outfit, but that had made her day a bit brighter. Ahhh, there was nothing like watching people run in terror...
She continued on her more merrier way.
It was only a few minutes walk to the apartment. She frowned at the sight of a large black car parked in hers and Trey's lot. Damn neighbors. Probably the new guy who lived across the hall and his mistress. Amy made a mental note to have a 'talking to' with him later.
Deciding to let it go for now though, Amy made her way up to their apartment. As much as she was annoyed at her vacation plans being vaporized, she was happy to be back home.
Which was why she had decided to celebrate her and Trey's 50th anniversary earlier than she'd expected. She'd been planning this for the last couple weeks; studying magazines, watching movies, gathering all the information she needed. Amy was ready for a night that hopefully she and Trey would never forget.
Fluffing her dark brown hair till it sat perfectly around her face, Amy stuck the key into the lock and opened the door. She frowned when Trey wasn't sitting on the futon watching television like he usually was during the late evening. He loved that damn futon. . .
Shutting the door behind her, Amy walked over to the kitchen, quietly pouring two glasses of wine, before shuffling back into the livingroom. "Trey, honey, are you here?"
There was a long pause of silence, and just when the tall female was beginning to think her evening plans were also about to be ruined, she saw her husband pop up from behind the futon, smiling with cell-phone in hand. "Hi honey, welcome home."
Amy relaxed, happy that perhaps her new wardrobe wasn't a waste. She walked forward and handed Trey one of the large glasses of wine, taking a sip of her own before asking. "Who were you on the phone with?"
Trey seemed to pale a shade, though he quickly pulled himself back together. "I was, uh, ordering a pizza."
"Really?" Amy felt relieved. She had been worried that it was going to be Adrian. Whiny little husband's bastard cousin would have ruined her surprise return for sure. "Sounds good to me."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah." She purred softly, leaning down toward the futon, till she was nuzzling Trey's neck. "You haven't said anything about my new outfit yet. You like?" She stood up and spun around seductively.
Trey gulped. "You look wonderful, Amy."
Amy laughed, swirling her finger lightly in her drink. "I know." Mentally she congratulated herself on an outfit well chosen. She'd had such a hard time deciding between this and Jennifer.
Trey seemed to be paralyzed. Well that was no good. She needed him to be very active tonight.
"You stay here, Trey." She said softly, running her fingers down his shoulder and arm. "I'll get the bedroom ready."
Trey remained motionless as she ridded herself of her scarf and sauntered to their room.
Not paying much attention as she entered her and Trey's room, she missed the fact she wasn't alone for longer than she should have. But her mind was already debating whether to strip down to her lingerie now or wait for Trey to join her. She'd just decided on now when she finally looked over. And froze as she encountered the wide eyes of another woman.
Well, that didn't make any sense. This was her bedroom. Her mind took a few minutes to try to piece together some kind of reason she was seeing this. Amy did not like what she came up with. Her eyes narrowed.
"Angelina Jolie!" For her part the woman in front of her obviously was as surprised to see her as Amy was. It took her a moment for her mind to figure out what the blonde was talking about. Oh, right. Her outfit.
Trey chose the perfect moment to come running into the room, a panicked look on his face. Oh, yeah, he better be afraid. This was looking very bad for him. Amy was not the kind to put up with this sort of thing from her man. She'd thought that had been made clear when his ex-girlfriend Amber wound up with a black-eye when she'd tried to remain 'friends' with Trey.
She turned on him, eyebrow's raised in disbelief. Yes, he was a man, but she'd truly expected more from him, ""Would you mind telling me, husband, what this woman is doing in our room?"
Amy looked back over at the little blonde who dared to be in her bedroom and then realized... "And in MY clothes." She was beyond outraged at that.
"I..I can explain r-really..." He stuttered miserably.
She ignored him. Her anger was focused on the woman who had taken over her man, bedroom, and clothes. The clothes were the last straw. She snapped.
SLAP
Large green eyes stared up at her in shock, "Did you just slap me?!"
Had she? Wow, that was almost like an out of body experience. Not that she felt the least bit guilty, the bitch deserved it.
She heard Trey's voice behind her, "Wait, honey, it's not what it looks like!"
"Save it," She snarled, eyes still locked on blondie, "I know exactly what was going on in here. And I'm not going to stand for some bimbo trying to get her hands on my man. Prepare to get your ass kicked to tomorrow, slut."
Amy had expected the other woman to be intimidated, but instead her eyes glittered challengingly. Blondie shifted her body into a fighting stance and beckoned, "Bring it on bitch."
- - supernatural - -
The fight lasted longer than Dean had imagined it would. It was taking a while to get used to his smaller more compact body, but Dean was still the same trained hunter he'd been hours earlier. He figured that he could take Angelina Jolie down with no problem.
Unfortunately he had no experience with girl fights. Dean'd been expecting punches and kicks. Instead the first attack involved fistfuls of hair being painfully pulled. He automatically reciprocated, grabbing the long brown locks of his opponent and tugging. Twin shrieks filled the air. Was that him? Good god, he sounded like a girl. This was freakin humiliating.
The woman finally let go and grabbed at his hands, trying to get him to release her hair. Dean gladly let go and rubbed his head. Ouch! He really wanted this long hair gone. It was obviously a hazard during a fight. Occupied by his hair follicles protests at the rough treatment, Dean was taken off guard when Angelina suddenly pushed him.
Shit, this woman is strong. Dean thought as he flew back into the dresser.
He threw his hand out and grabbed the nearest thing to use as a weapon and hit Jolie with it. Unfortunately it was some kind of fugly vase and it shattered immediately, softening the blow but still momentarily stunning her.
He used the small window of opportunity to his advantage. Dean got up and launched himself at her, driving the woman backward. She stumbled over something, probably the bra Dean dropped earlier, and they fell heavily onto the king-size bed in the middle of the room.
After that it was almost a wrestling match. Dean had the vantage position on top before she suddenly grabbed with both hand at his chest and pulled... holy fucking shit! He lost the upper hand as he fell to the side, hands coming up to protect himself.
Angelina jumped onto Dean, straddling him, face twisted up in fury.
He groaned in frustration, Oh, com'on, this isn't even fair. My number one fantasy has finally come true, and I can't even enjoy it. He bucked underneath her, but couldn't seem to unseat the stubborn bitch.
Her hands wrapped themselves around his neck and started to squeeze. Dean's hands flopped around, trying to find something to dislodge her but coming up with nothing. He could feel his face turning red, his lungs desperately begging for air. Just when he realized he might actually have to face the possibility that Angelina Jolie was going to be the one to kill him, Trey finally grew a pair and got involved.
The grey-eyed man hooked his arms around Angelina and pulled her off, leaving Dean gasping for breath. "Okay, that's enough. Amy, you've got to let me explain."
"I've got nothing to say to you- you cheating bastard."
Dean jumped off the bed and put as much distance between him and the squirming woman as he could. He rubbed his sore neck, "Crap, Trey, Angelina Jolie is freakin nuts!"
Trey was still struggling with the brunette, who was now cursing as she tried to get loose, "This isn't Angelina Jolie, she's my wife!"
Dean blinked, wow, I really didn't see that coming, "Wha...but how?"
"Amy's a shape-shifter."
Well, that explained so much. Thank god. Dean had been momentarily considering that maybe he'd finally lost it.
Trey was holding his wife back, trying to calm her down, "Listen, baby. I promise that this isn't what it looks like. I'm not cheating on you with another woman."
Amy stilled for a moment, as if considering his words. Her head jerked toward Dean, "Then who is she?"
"He." Dean muttered incoherently under his breath.
Amy narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"
"My name is Dean and I'm a he." Dean said louder, still rubbing his scalp gingerly. "Nice to meet you." The last part was obvious sarcasm and was not missed by anybody in the room.
Amy shifted her glare to her husband. "What is she talking about?"
Trey, still holding on to his wife tightly (just in case), stuttered nervously, unsure how to go about explaining all this ridiculousness to her. "Amy, honey. . . uh dear- sweetheart. . . you see-"
Dean decided to take the initiative in this one. "Your husband there decided that he was going to 'help' me and accidently turned me into a woman. Believe me, sex never even entered the equation." Yes, he could have put it more eloquently, spent time explaining it thoroughly, but honestly he didn't want to.
Trey sighed inwardly. Of course Dean would be frank about this whole thing with his wife. Couldn't say it that straight to his brother though right? Of course not. . .
There was a deafening silence as Amy took that in. Then she twisted around to look at Trey, a scowl on her face, "Goddamn it, Trey. What did I tell you about doing your blood spells?"
He flushed, "Uhh... not to?"
"That's right. You know why? Because this is what happens." She sniffed, appearing to be filled with self-righteousness, "I told you. One day someone was going to make a stupid, idiotic wish and then you were going to pay for your wish-granting ways."
"Awww...comon, you know I can't see people in trouble and not help."
"Umm, just for clarification purposes, turning me into a woman was in no way helping me." Dean chimed in. He ignored Trey's fervent glare, instead looking over at Amy and tried to give his best imitation of Sam's puppy dog eyes. While nowhere near his brothers skill level, it was enough. Amy melted.
"You poor thing! Trey, how could you do this to her...him?"
"Wha...Amy I didn't mean..."
"Yes, yes. You never mean to do this sort of thing. It just magically 'happens'"
"Technically majik was sort of involved..."
"Didn't you ever stop to think of the consequences of turning him into a woman?"
"What makes you think I knew he was going to say something like that? Besides, he's the one who said it. Why am I the one being hung for idiocy." Trey could tell by both Amy and Dean's faces that he was in no way going to get out of this.
"I was practically drunk." Dean argued. "And how was I supposed to know you were some goodie, goodie trying to fill your good deed quota for the month?"
Trey felt a small flame of anger spike through him at the condemning accusations. "I thought you hunters were required to always expect the unexpected." He didn't catch his slip till his wife went completely still.
Amy's eyes got wide, glancing back at Dean then once more to her husband eyes flaring. "You brought a hunter home?" She hissed. "You brought a hunter to our house?" Her disbelief was palpable.
Trey shrunk back a little ways and Dean felt tug of guilt at getting him in trouble with his wife. He then looked down at himself and the guilt was gone.
Amy whirled on Dean. "Why are you really here?"
"Are you kidding me?" Dean asked. "I want my body back!"
The Angie look-alike bit her lip. "That's it? You're not hunting Trey and me?"
"I didn't even know you were here till the bar." Dean admitted.
She looked back at her husband before stepping forward. "So if Trey can fix this. . . You'll leave us alone? You won't tell other hunters about us?"
Dean thought about that offer seriously.
Trey quickly blurted out. "We're not evil."
Amy rolled her eyes and Dean didn't really care. "Yeah. It's a deal."
Amy held out her hand and Dean took it, but just as the shifter tried to break the connection Dean held on tighter, pulling her close to him. "It's a deal. But if I hear of either you or your husband doing anything other than party tricks, I'm coming back for you."
Amy pulled her hand away and nodded.
Trey chose that moment to speak again. "So, how you want to do this?"
- -supernatural- -
The Next Morning
Something wasn't right. Sam knew it the moment his eyes opened. Over the years he'd developed a sort of sixth sense when it came to trouble. At times he worried about whether it had anything to do with his demonic connection however other times he was just glad to have it.
He looked over to the bed on his left, the instinctive reaction to find Dean. It was empty, looking exactly as it had before Sam went to asleep.
Sam frowned and sat up. Dean should have been back by now. His brother might live the life of the party these days but he was always back by early morning. And it was...
He checked the clock. It was 8 am and no Dean in sight.
Sam sighed and dragged himself out from under the covers. Pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, he considered what to do next. His eyes fell on his cellphone setting out next to the laptop. That was as good a start as any.
He pushed the speed-dial for Dean's cellphone and waited for it to ring. It went straight to voicemail. Sam's frown deepened. Dean didn't turn off his phone, especially when they were out of physical contact.
Sam left a short and to-the-point message. "Dean, where are you? You better have a good reason for staying out so late."
He ended the call with an irritated jab. Sam wasn't sure whether to be worried or pissed. Dean didn't just drop off the grid for no reason. But the young hunter had to admit that with his brother reasons could range from being passed out drunk outside a bar - a rare but occasional occurrence - to dying in a ditch somewhere - sadly, also an occasional event.
Sam wavered a moment, weighing his limited options. He could either wait for Dean's late return or go out and find him. He snorted in bitter amusement. Since when had waiting ever worked?
Sam grabbed his jacket and opened the motel door...only to be stopped short at the sight in front of him.
The Impala in all her gleaming dark beauty was parked in front of their motel room. The rising sun made the black paint job shine proudly. Which made no sense because the car was supposed to be with Dean...who wasn't there as far as Sam could see.
Same moved to get a better look inside the Impala. Half expecting to find Dean passed out in the front seat he was disappointed to find it unoccupied. However his gaze was caught by a small piece of paper folded into the wheel of the car. He squinted to find any writing and could barely make out the word Sam scrawled in one corner.
He tried to open the door and wasn't surprised to find it locked. Sam hesitated a moment, but he needed to find out what it said. He went back inside the room and opened up his duffel bag, searching for the lock-picking kit he kept with him always.
Sam was walking back outside when his foot connecting with something on the floor just inside the doorway. He bent and reached down to pick up a small white envelope. Just like the paper in the car it had his name written on it. This time Sam was able to recognize it as Dean's handwriting. He opened up the envelope and spilled it's contents into his hand. It took a moment for him to comprehend what he was looking at.
It was the keys to the Impala.
Sam's fingers closed and tightened over the metal. He stood still for a moment, trying to figure out the implications then ran outside. Unlocking and opening the door to Dean's most prized possession, Sam snatched the paper from the wheel and unfolded it.
Sam,
I've been thinking about what you said at the bar and you're right, maybe we need to take a break. Spend some time away from each other. I found another job for me, nothing too dangerous. I promise not to do anything stupid and I'll tell you if I get in over my head. I called Bobby and he said you can go stay at his place while I'm gone. I'll meet up with you there once I'm done.
Take care of yourself, bro. I'll see you soon,
Dean
PS: I'm trusting you with the Impala, dude. Don't betray that trust or you'll be on detail duty for the rest of my life.
The sheet of paper crumpled against Sam's fury and fell down onto the ground. His cellphone was already in hand a again, Dean's number punched in, and ringing. This time when voicemail kicked in, Sam had a lot more to say.
"Dean! What the hell are you thinking! This is completely stupid, childish even. Yes, Dean I said childish. Immature, infantile. You're running away over a small argument?" He paused to take a breathe and rubbed his fingers against his forehead. He could already feel the start of a headache beginning. "Damn it, Dean, you can't do this to me now. When you get this message you better turn your ass right back around and get back here." He left off an 'or else' considering it to be an understood nonverbal message.
Sam ended the call. He resisted taking his frustration on the nearest object, the Impala, and settled for kicking a loose piece of gravel on the ground. It bounced and hit the car three doors down with a small satisfying thunk.
He was at a loss as to what he should do next. A part of him said 'go drag Dean back by the scruff of his neck'. Actually most of him thought that was a good idea.
Unfortunately Sam didn't have any idea where to find his prodigal brother.
Sam bit his lip, an outward sign of the indecision churning in his head. He bulked at the thought of just obediently trotting off to Bobby's. What did Dean expect him to do there? Sit by the window and gaze out, waiting for his older brothers promised return like a faithful dog expecting it's master to come back?
Why is Dean doing this? It bothered Sam more than he could understand. Sure they'd had an argument, but they had those all the time like people who spend all their time together normally do.
It hadn't been that bad of one, not even a real fight, just some harsh words. Ones that Sam hadn't truly meant. The last thing he wanted was less communication with his brother, damn it. Instead he'd managed to convince Dean of the exact opposite and his brother decided to go AWOL. Great, just freakin perfect. Way to go, Sam. He congratulated himself, sighing in frustration.
There wasn't much Sam could do at the moment, not without having a clue where Dean was. The note said the older hunter had found himself a hunt, and that thought made his stomach clench with worry. It wasn't that he didn't know Dean hunted solo while he had been at college and was perfectly capable of handling himself in dangerous situations, but Sam hated the idea of nobody being around to watch Dean's back in case things went bad. The last time that had happened, Dean ended up tied to a tree and being offered to a pagan scarecrow god. Of course that had only occurred because Sam had left him to do the job alone.
Sam winced at the memory. He'd taken off, forcing Dean to drive off without him, because of an argument with his brother over following Dad's orders. Shit, what comes around goes around...
A sharp pain in his hands brought Sam back to reality. He looked down and realized that the impala keys were digging into his palm, nearly drawing blood. Unclenching the fists he'd unconsciously formed, Sam pocketed the keys.
Checking his watch, he realized that checkout for the motel room was almost up. Originally the Winchester's had been planning to get back on the road early in morning. Sam guessed that plan had long past been changed. He wondered when exactly Dean had left the letter and Impala. Probably late last night, while Sam had been blissfully unaware of what stupid stunt his brother was about to pull.
Knowing that he was getting nowhere just standing next to the car like an idiot, Sam forced himself into action. He returned inside the motel room and began grabbing his bags. Dean's things were nowhere to be found, causing him to wonder how the older hunter had managed to pull that off. Then Sam remembered that his brother had already packed his carryall bag the other day before they'd gone to the bar. It had been in the back of the Impala. How convenient, Sam thought sourly.
He threw his stuff into the impala and went into the front office to return the room keys and check out. Sam barely managed being civil to young man behind the desk and quickly returned to the car. He got behind the wheel.
Sam was frustrated beyond belief, not really sure what to do. At this point the only point of contact he had was Dean's promise to meet up at Bobby's.
Okay, Dean. He thought. I'm going to Bobby's, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you off that easy.
Sam started the engine and left the parking lot, heading for Singer's junkyard.
- - supernatural - -
Thankfully, getting to Bobby's had been relatively smooth and eventless. A rare occurrence to be sure. Sam couldn't even think of the last time he or Dean had gone to their fellow hunter's home without being in some sort of trouble.
Wiping his feet hurriedly on what was probably once a welcome mat, Sam knocked on the front door and waited.
A moment later the door opened. Having expected to be greeted by Bobby, Sam was a little surprised to be staring down at the blond woman looking back up at him. "Where's Bobby?" He blurted out then flushed as she raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over the black t-shirt she was wearing.
"Where's Sam?" She answered his question with one of her own.
"Uh, I'm Sam." He said humbly.
"Yeah, I don't think so." The woman argued. "Cause the Sam I heard about was an over polite geek giant, and even though you got the geek giant right I'm not seeing any polite." She raised her eyebrow again.
Sam stood there, messenger bag hanging limply in his grasp, not sure what to say.
That's when she punched him. "I'm kidding. It's a joke Sam, I know who you are."
"You do?" Sam asked, now a little confused.
"Yeah." She informed him, a slightly impish grin on her face. "Bobby said you'd be staying here for a few days while he was out of town." She pushed the door open completely and waved him in. "Come'on."
"Oh. . . okay." He cautiously walked into his friend's home, clutching his duffel with both hands, unsure what to do now. This was not how Sam thought it was going to after reading his brother's letter. Bobby was supposed to be here, not some wise-cracking blond.
"Go ahead and put your bag in the guest room." She told him, snapping his attention back to her.
"So, who are you?" He finally asked.
"Oh, right. Who am I." She repeated as if a little unsure. "I'm Bobby's niece. The name's. . . Dani."
- -supernatural- -
Dean watched Sam walk over to the guest room that the Winchester brothers had used more than once in the last year. He allowed himself a self satisfied smile once his brother's back was completely turned, followed by a mental celebratory fist pump as he closed the front door behind the two of them.
Everything was working perfectly.
Headquarters, this is Big Brother. I'm in and we're clear. I repeat, Operation: Fooling Sammy is a go.
- -supernatural- -
A/N: Whew. I know it was a ridiculously long wait, but I hope it was worth it. I also apologize that you had to wade thru so much of my OCs' perspectives. Both Trey and Amy refused to let me write Dean and Sam until they got some time in the spotlight. I considered cutting it out, but honestly couldn't bear to delete. I hope they weren't too boring. Chances are they won't be showing up again for a long time- minus of course Trey still trying to fix this whole mess he started.
I think now would be a good time to quickly add that under no circumstances will this fic have Wincest. Just thought that should be made clear considering that Sam doesn't know Dani is really Dean.
Reviews are loved and treasured almost as much as dark chocolate M&M's. And for those of you that celebrate the holiday: Happy Easter!
Kerri B.