Hey guys!
Welcome to chapter 2! (I will probably come up with names for the chapters at some point, but for now they will have to be horribly un-creative :/)
Thanks to the three people who thought my story was good enough to follow! You are awesome!
Warnings: A little bit of language. Nothing too major though. ;)
P.s. Please review! It makes me happy and encourages me to update faster!
Dean
"Nnnghh" groaned Dean, rolling over onto his side.
That was a weird dream.
He'd had dreams about Cas before, and, although kinda freaky the first few times, he'd learned to live with them. Usually he found them to be indicative that he hadn't had enough sex recently. It wasn't something he really needed to question anymore... He figured that since his life was fucked up, his brain was most probably fucked up, which really left no possible hope for his dreams to be sane... Maybe it was a little weird dreaming about your guardian angel tracing your torso with his tongue, but hey, weirder things have happened in real life.
It doesn't mean anything.
Dean reflected back idly on the more…interesting aspects of the dream. Imaginary Cas was certainly good, Dean would give him that. Even if Dean didn't swing that way himself.
He snuggled himself further down under the thin hotel sheet, attempting to take his mind off his dream and deciding to find a pretty blond woman in a bar sometime later today. That would stop those crazy dreams. Hopefully.
He let his mind wander some more.
I haven't had pie in ages! Dean stared in horror at his stomach as he realised how long he had gone without the one thing that made trying to stop the apocalypse a little less unbearable. What shall I do? This is an abomination!
He blamed Sam of course. No matter how much he might love his little brother, Sam never truly understood the importance of pie. Dean would say he wanted pie, and what did Sam do? Come back with cake. CAKE! It was disgraceful!
Maybe I'll ask Cas...Cas never forgets the pie.
The thought of Cas sent his mind shrieking back to the dream he had had, and Dean resigned himself listening to his brain telling him exactly 'how amazing' Cas had been.
He sighed.
However, instead of his brain following the usual pattern of: 'Re-watch dream about Cas, fantasize about Cas, repeat', his brain flickered straight to the distinguishing feature of this particular dream. Sam.
Now, that was weird (not quite as weird as removing a blue-eyed angel's trenchcoat and dinner jacket, but close). The fact that SAM was there... That NEVER happened... EVER. Especially as Sam wasn't even IN the hotel last night...
Dean sat up. Not here this morning either.
Uhh, please say I don't have to save his ass from a creature/ghost/demon/himself-delete as applicable, he mentally groaned to himself.
"I can hear you, you know"
Dean leapt about two feet into the air.
"Sam what the hell?!"
This morning was progressively getting weirder and weirder... Dean could be sure that he hadn't spoken aloud... Then again, he had been running on almost no sleep for a while. Maybe it was finally starting to take its toll.
Dean looked around. Where is that crazy-little-brother-turned-mind-reader anyway?
"I don't know Dean. I was hoping you could tell me actually. I don't seem to be that much in control of wherever I am..."
Ok, that was more than a little creepy… Sleep loss. It must be. "Don't tell me this is gonna be a repeat of the impala/Gabriel incident. I swear some checked shirt is still rattling around inside that car and I could really do without finding your hair in my cup of morning coffee or something equally disgusting..." Dean paused. "Wait. Please say that you aren't actually the coffee pot."
"I dunno Dean. Maybe try making a cup of coffee? I'll tell you if I feel anything."
"Yeah, well I'm sure you'll feel it if hot water comes pouring out your ass."
Dean moved towards the coffee pot.
"Shit. Shit shit shit. Er, Dean?"
"What now? Realised that you aren't the coffee pot and are in fact one of the bedside lamps? Or that you just don't fancy the idea of being a morning beverage?"
"No Dean. Quite a lot worse than that actually."
"Hit me with it. Can't be worse than starting the apocalypse, right?"
"I thought you said you let that go!"
"Whatever man, just tell me what piece of shit we've got to deal with next."
"Dean, there's no easy way to say this but... I think I'm inside your head."
Sam
There was a deafening silence.
Why does all the crap hit us? Why does all the crap hit ME?! What if he looks through all the thoughts I've ever had? What if that was actually him in my dream?!
"Uh, yeah actually that was me." Sam interjected.
"Aaaarrgghhhhh!"
"Sorry Dean. But it wasn't all that pleasant for me to actually have to WATCH. I mean, I literally can't escape, and I sooo did not need to see my brother making out with someone. Someone who, as far as I was aware, was just a friend."
Contrary to the onslaught of slander Sam thought he was going to receive from Dean (or at least from his mind) Dean's thoughts were surprisingly blank. Usually they'd appear in front of Sam as if they were being passed through a crappy old projector. But the screen now looked as if someone was covering the lens with a finger.
"Dean?"
Sam then noticed something peculiar. The space where the witch had landed him (presumably somewhere in Dean's brain) was beginning to feel rather warm. Not like scary-old-lady-come-wicked-witch-just-shoved-me-in -an-oven warm.
More like... Sam tried to think.
More like the heat you got when someone says something you're uncomfortable with... The heat of a blush.
"Dean, are you blushing?!"
Thoughts started flickering onto the screen again as Dean vehemently denied any 'blushing, flushing or heating of the cheeks in any form.'
Sam tried hard to keep up with the thoughts that kept streaming through Dean's mind.
He's going to think you like Cas.
But I don't like Cas!
He's going to think that.
Admit it, dreaming about Cas is more than a little weird.
Maybe you should see a doctor.
Yeah, that turned out sooo well the last time.
Maybe he could sort out Sam.
Hey doctor, my brother's taken residence in my head, can you get him out please.
One way trip to loony land.
Keep having dreams about Cas and that's your final destination.
He still thinks you like Cas.
What if he's reading your thoughts?
"Bingo." Sam couldn't resist.
"Ok, Sam. Let me just get something straight-"
"Straight, Dean? I can assure you, there is nothing 'straight' about you and Cas..."
"I DON'T LIKE CAS GODDAMNIT!"
"Oh really? That's just why you have erotic dreams about him right?"
"Just SHUT UP Samantha! You're not the one having your own HEAD invaded by your younger brother, who also happens to not have a bollocking clue what he's talking about AND HEY, just to add the icing to the cake, always forgets the goddamn pie! THE WAY I SEE IT, YOU ARE IN NO POSITION TO MAKE ASSUMPTIONS HERE!"
A soft fluttering of wings interrupted Dean's tirade and made Dean whirl around.
"Err Dean? Why are you shouting?"