Disclaimer: Don't own anything. And it's obvious I don't like musicals or Britney Spears or the Simpson sisters, but I don't own them either. You'll find out why I said that in a minute. Please don't sue me.

Dean in Oz

Dean stepped out of the flowers and waited for Sam and mini-Impala to catch up. Sam tripped over a flower. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Are you ever gonna learn to walk, Sammy?"

"Funny," Sam suddenly sneezed three times.

"You OK?"

"Yeah."

Dean let the Impala run ahead of him as they entered the town. People kept looking at them. He wasn't surprised. He had always made heads turn all his life. Now, he realized that between himself, the Impala, who was honking her horn flirtatiously at a Ford Ranger, and Sammy, who stumbled every three steps and kept sneezing, they looked very odd.

Dean turned to Sam. "OK. This is the 80th time you've sneezed! What's the deal?"

"Allergies," Sam sniffled.

"What are you allergic to?"

"Those flowers."

Dean burst out laughing. "Really? Oh, this is too good! Now, when I feel like torturing you, I should just get flowers for you? OK, maybe not."

"You also made me the scarecrow. I think I'm allergic to the straw. I swear I've got a rash all over my body from it.

"Thanks for the mental image, Sammy. Appreciate it."

Just then, Impala angrily honked her horn and sped to hide behind Dean. Dean could swear Impala was glaring at Sam. He picked her up. "Easy, girl. Sammy, did you step on her again?" Sam sheepishly nodded. "I'm gonna find a flower shop. Maybe I can make your sinuses explode."

"Look, I'll be more careful. Just, let's go find JW. And get our answers."

Dean scanned the bricks. "It looks like they enter that motel. Boy, that's typical. This is my life. In cheap motels."

"Yeah. Let's go back and find Sarah."

"Maybe later." Dean stepped into the lobby of the motel. The carpet continued the brick path. "I guess we continue, Sammy."

Sam nodded.

They walked down the dreary hallway to the end room. "Do we knock or what?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. He reached for the doorknob, but before he touched it, the door slowly swung open. He put down Impala and stepped in the grey and black room.

Sam looked around. "There's nothing here!"

"I see that, Captain Obvious."

"Are you sure you got the right room?"

Dean frowned at his brother. "Well, the bricks end in this room. It even has brick walls. So, there has to be something here. Well, look around."

Dean walked into the bare kitchenette. All he found was an answering machine with a blinking light. He checked it. Two messages. He pressed the play button.

The first message was given by a man. However, the voice was disguised by something electronic. "Dean, you've got to kill the demon."

Wow. That solved everything, Dean though sarcastically. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sam come into the room.

The second message started playing. Dean recognized that smooth, evil voice. "Hi, Dean. Still looking for me, are you? Is the psychic wonder still following you? How about that little car of yours? I'm still going to destroy both you, my handsome, and your little car. Then, I've got plans for the psychic scarecrow."

The message cut off.

Suddenly, Dean heard a noise in the bathroom. He pulled out his gun and moved silently to the bathroom. He looked over at Sam and whispered, "You didn't check the bathroom?"

Sam looked puzzled. "Well, I was going to, but I got distracted by your messages!" He said loudly.

"So much for the element of surprise," Dean muttered. He checked the doorknob. It was locked. He glanced over at Sam, then stepped back from the door and kicked it open.

Out in the kitchenette, the phone started to ring. The answering machine picked up after two rings. The first man's disguised voice came through the speaker. "Dean, you're wasting time. You need to protect your brother and kill the demon. I order you to leave here."

Order me? Dean stepped back into the bathroom and looked around. It was empty. He moved towards the drawn shower curtain and slowly pulled it open to reveal John.

"Dad?"

John scrambled to grab the curtain from his son and pulled it shut. A second later, the answering machine picked up another call. "Dean! Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!"

Dean grabbed the curtain again and pulled it open. John quickly hung up his cell phone.

"JW, I presume? Dad, what are you doing? What's going on?"

John sighed, then focused on the faithful Impala. "What'd you do to the car? If I had known you were gonna shrink it, I wouldn't have given it to you."

"I didn't shrink her! It's not like I accidentally threw her in the dryer or something. I'm trying to think of a way to wake up from this dream—and I know I'm dreaming—and to expand Impala to her full size."

"How do you know you're dreaming?"

Dean pulled the toilet seat down and sat on it. "I have a strange enough life. However, when I saw a singing, dancing shapeshifter with my face, that convinced me that I'm having one weird-ass dream. However, I feel that you have some advice for me? Is it about the demon?"

"Yes. I found another way to kill it."

Dean's eyes widened. "Really? One that doesn't involve the Colt?"

"Yeah." John fell silent.

Dean leaned forward and anxiously waited for John to say more. After waiting for a couple minutes, Dean burst out, "Well, how do we kill him?"

"I'm not really liking your tone."

Dean looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry, sir," he mumbled.

"OK."

"So, what's the other way to kill the demon?"

John grinned. "Sing to him."

Dean frowned, puzzled. "S-sing to him?"

"Yeah. Show tunes. But, he also hates Britney Spears, Jessica Simpson, Ashlee Simpson. Those kinds of songs."

Dean's mouth dropped open, his mind reeling. "Oh, hell no."

John shrugged. "Well, if you don't do it. I guess I'll have to fight him. Probably get killed in the process. I'm very disappointed in you, Dean. Speaking of disappointed, you haven't been protecting Sammy too well. He's just a vulnerable scarecrow."

Dean looked up. "Oh, damn! Sammy!"

He got up and ran into the bedroom area. Sam was lying on the floor, straw all over, and limbs rubbery and empty. Sam looked up at Dean. "Dean! Help me!"

"Oh, my God, Sammy! What happened?"

"Well, they knocked me down, and threw my arms over there. And my legs over there."

"I always knew you were a little strung out, but this is taking it to the extreme." Dean began gathering up the straw. "Wait a minute. Who's 'they'?"

Sam pointed. "Behind you."

Dean turned to see two people with wings and monkey tails behind him. He groaned. "Meg?"

Meg's wings flapped. "Well, I see you remember me, baby. I mean, since you killed me, I was wondering if you ever thought of me."

"You're not going to transcend on me, are you?"

"No, baby. I'm still as bad as ever."

Dean stepped back. "And, you're just as ugly as ever. Although the wings and tail? They're so you! All you need are cymbals to bang together to convince me that you're truly evil."

A familiar engine's whine interrupted Dean. He looked over to see Impala start to roll into the room. He shook his head slightly, and she slowly backed out of the room.

Meg frowned at Dean's comment. "Oh, that's funny, Dean. We're gonna strip the skin from your bones, but that was funny." She turned to the guy. "You remember my brother, right? You should. You put a bullet in his head. Remember?"

Dean looked at the guy. "Yeah. I remember."

The guy moved faster than Dean could react. The guy ran up and threw Dean into the wall. His head struck the brick wall hard, and he slid to the ground.

He heard Sam call him, but he couldn't answer his brother's concerned yells.

Hey, maybe I'll wake up in my real world, Dean thought before everything went dark.

TBC