Ok, breathe deep. Just breathe. This isn't really happening so it's fine. This is a dream. Still sleeping. Never really woke up. Everything is just the way it should be.
The convincing thoughts continually run through Dean's head as she leans her back against the closed bathroom door. Honestly, the scenario is way too insane to be real if she thinks about it. No hunters have ever seen this. It's unheard of. It's absurd really. A dude turning chick? That doesn't happen.
Shit. Then why isn't she waking up yet?
Sucking it up and growing some balls (pun not intended), Dean keeps a tight hold of the boxer briefs drooping off her waist and walks to the mirror with closed eyes. Once ready, she blows out the air in her lungs in one big puff and lets her lids fly open.
"Son of a bitch!" her female voice shouts loudly when a woman is looking back in the reflection. Anger getting the best of her, she balls up her fist and immediately punches the mirror to make the woman in it disappear. "God damn it!"
As the glass shatters and falls all over the sink and floor, Dean starts to truly, fully panic for the first time. She doesn't shout and yell as is the usual Dean Winchester way. This was bigger than the usual shit anyways. Gripping hard onto the white porcelain of the very small bathroom sink, the alarm grows from inside out. The fear starts in her chest and spreads outward. By the time it reaches her brain Dean can't move nor think anymore. Everything is wrong. Everything is unfamiliar. She feels weird, like her body is unwelcoming and has completely betrayed her. There isn't much in her life she doesn't question on a daily basis. She never questions Lizzy's love, Sam's devotion, the Impala's ability to make everything better, dad's journal holding all the answers and Bobby having them all when it doesn't, the sky is blue, even bad pizza tastes pretty good, Bert and Ernie are still gay, and Dean's own hunting capabilities are what they are… awesome.
Now, she doesn't know her own capabilities at all. She's not used to being shorter, smaller, weaker, and just plain different than the norm. To say Dean is comfortable in his skin would be an understatement. He's proud of his God given looks, his strength, his size, his everything. Right now it feels like she's wearing a poorly made, ill-fitting suit that can't ever come off. Everything is awful and upside-down.
"Dean!?" Lizzy calls out through the closed doorway after having heard the crash. "Are you ok?"
Peering down at her hand, slender fingers and small knuckles now coated in bright red blood, she shakes her head. "No."
"Open the door," Lizzy asks without really asking. It was more a polite and careful instruction. "Please. I know this is fucked but please don't shut me out."
"This is more than fucked," Dean answers evenly, looking first to her blood trailing down the drain and then up into the small shards left standing on the mirror at her own reflection. Damn it. Her eyes, mouth, fuck, even cheek bones are the same. She's definitely Dean, no doubt.
"Baby, I know," Lizzy pleads, her voice caring and scared as well. "But you gotta let me help you. Sam too. And if I know you like I think I do that mirror is smashed and your hand is a bloody mess. Please come out and let me look at it."
She doesn't want to. She doesn't want anyone, not even Lizzy, to see her like this.
"Hot Shot," Lizzy keeps trying, knowing how right she is and that in the very least Dean needs medical attention. "I love you. I don't care about anything but you and that you're healthy and ok… no matter what you look like."
Clenching her jaw with anger, she knows Lizzy's right. Her hand is a mess and Lizzy does love her. If she can't trust her and Sam then she can't trust anyone with this.
From outside the door Lizzy keeps her ear to the wood and waits, just short of crossing her fingers that Dean will come out. She's nervous to see the woman again because God damn it her fucking husband woke up a woman. Un-fucking-real. Nerves aside, Lizzy sighs in relief and backs up from the door when she hears the lock slide open.
The bathroom door opens slowly. Lizzy and Sam both watch with wide eyes as Dean pulls it with her uninjured hand. Lizzy gasps a little when she gets the up close look at Dean when she's in full view. Her head bowed to at first to hide behind her hair, her green eyes peer up and really connect with Lizzy for the first time since they woke up. Lizzy smiles small, taking in the beautiful woman in the doorway. Though she should be screaming and freaking out a lot more than she is, she finds no reason to. She knows this person better than herself. It's still her man, her soul mate, in there somewhere so she stays collected and unafraid. She steps into Dean's space, just inches from her and places a calming hand on her cheek.
"It's ok," Lizzy assures Dean, her hand smoothing over the taller woman's smoother jawline. "It's still you, right?"
"Yeah," Dean answers very quietly.
"Then it's ok. And we will figure this out."
"We fucking better," Dean grits to her, the fire reigniting.
"We always do," Lizzy says with attitude, knowing it's true. "Sam and I would never let you stay like this. We'll put it all together but you have to work with us for that. We need you. You good enough for now?"
Dean doesn't answer and simply looks to the carpet under her very small feet. Lizzy's heart aching for her, she reaches up and circles her arms around Dean's neck, hoping to give her some comfort in a time when it's awfully hard to find. Dean circles her arms around Lizzy's middle like she always does but this time their height different is not as drastic as usual, making the usually loving embrace between the two have an awkward feel for her.
"I love you," Lizzy reminds her, whispering the reassurance in Dean's ear. "We will fix this."
Once Lizzy backs away she takes up Dean's now towel wrapped hand. Lifting the cloth gingerly she gets a view of the still bleeding damage. "Oh, Dean. You did a number on your hand this time."
"S'not that bad," Dean quietly responds.
"Sit down," Lizzy points to a chair on the table and walks to get the keys to the Impala. She heads for the door to get the medical supplies.
"Wait!" Sam calls out to her and stops her. "Puts some clothes on."
"Shit," she mumbles when she looks down at herself and sees she never covered up after getting out of bed. She's only in her underwear and tank that she usually wears to sleep. She rushes to put some sweatpants on.
Dean watches Lizzy move quick, fumbling a bit and losing any form of composure she might have had just a moment ago. She's scared. She did a good job hiding it for a few second but she's terrified of this. Dean certainly doesn't blame her.
After nearly tripping over her pants, she gets them on and heads for the door again. "I'll be right back," she says while looking at Dean before flying out the door.
Once she's gone, Dean and Sam are left alone. Sam, standing between the beds a good solid ten feet away, has his hands in his sweatpants pockets and is having a hard time looking at Dean.
"You're making me feel weird," Dean quietly says after realizing Sam's being quiet and seriously avoiding her. She sits with her back hunched on the wooden chair with hands folded in her lap.
"I don't know what to do here," Sam admits, shifting awkwardly on his feet.
"I'm still me," Dean answers back, an edge to her words.
"Oh, yeah. I mean, I know that… just… I don't know…" Sam's at a total loss. "It's strange."
"You're telling me," Dean complains while pulling at her huge white t-shirt that felt like a tent on her. "My clothes don't even fit now."
"Yeah," Sam answers, averting his eyes when Dean pulls her shirt too tightly against herself. He tries looking at anything else in the room. "Um, you could borrow, uh… something… from, um Lizzy."
"What's with you?" Dean asks when she notices his odd behavior.
"Just that… your, uh, your shirt…" he tries to lightly explain. "When you pull it tight like that… kinda see-through."
"Oh fucking gross!" Dean shouts in disgust, immediately crossing her arms over her chest to hide it from sight. "Don't look!"
"Not trying to!" Sam quickly assures as he stares at the wall. Lizzy comes rushing back into the room just in time. "Oh thank God," Sam sighs with Lizzy's return, hating being alone with just Dean right now as he comes to terms with all of this.
"Ok, hand on the table," Lizzy says with a half-smile as she sits across from Dean. Keeping her uninjured arm over her breasts, she lays out the towel wrapped one for Lizzy. "I'm going to have to do a little glass fishing. Sorry."
"My fault," Dean sullenly shrugs and wraps her arm tighter around herself.
"You cold?" Lizzy wonders with Dean's behavior.
"No," she answers lowly. "Just improperly dressed… apparently."
"Well, we can deal with clothes after I clean and maybe stitch you back up," Lizzy explains while getting back up and pulling the comforter off of the bed they just woke from with a start. Figuring out clothing for Dean will be a real bitch fit, Lizzy knows it already. Explaining bras and different underwear styles… not so good right now. "Cover up for now."
"Ok," Dean sullenly answers as Lizzy drapes the blanket over her shoulders and covers her.
"We can rifle through my crap later and find you something," Lizzy assures.
This time Dean just nods instead of answer at all. He doesn't want to wear Lizzy's clothes. That sounds just awful.
"Ok, let's fix you up, huh?" Lizzy tries to lighten up as she sits across from Dean and gently inspects her hand. Dean's long, slender fingers shake a little under her hold but Lizzy knows no one else could get this close to Dean right now without her freaking out. At least they still knew they had each other and that Dean can depend on her no matter what. She just wants to be there for her better half… even with the ridiculous, not at all possible changes.
"Relax, Dean," Lizzy says softly across the table. "It's just me."
Dean's hand quiets it's tremors almost instantly at the reminder. Lizzy gives Dean's forearm a little squeeze of reassurance before starting in.
"Almost done," Lizzy grins to Dean, of course not receiving one in return, as she reaches for the gauze to wrap up her hand. Only four stitches, the angry, punch-happy hunter's new record.
"Can we call Cass now?" Sam impatiently asks while sitting behind his computer on his own bed. He's only gotten a preliminary search done but everything he's found has been utter crap. Nothing real, not a single viable and reliable site or article anywhere. To him it seems like this magical sex change is just the wild imagination of confused young people and fan fiction writers. They might be on their own this time which is a terrifying thought.
"You ready to talk to Cass?" Lizzy asks with narrow eyes as she peers at Dean across the table, still wrapped tightly in a blanket.
"As I'll ever be."
Lizzy nods as she tucks the end of the gauze roll in and finishes up her work. She then takes the woman's injured hand and very slowly turns it over. She brings it up and places a very sweet kiss on Dean's palm. "We will figure this out. Cass will help."
Looking oddly away as she's still uncomfortable being around Lizzy like this, Dean is still so damn happy she has her right now. Sam is awkward at best when near her in this state but Lizzy never shied away… once she knew it was Dean in there that is.
"Here," Sam tosses Lizzy her phone to call the angel. If Castiel will answer to any of them it'll be her… especially since he may not recognize Dean's voice at the moment. Lizzy quickly dials.
"Cassie, we need you," Lizzy begins, her free hand still holding Dean's to show her any support she can. "Something pretty fucked up happened…. Sunset Motel. It's on Franklin Street in Carlyle…"
The gust of wind fills the room quickly and there stands the angel with his own cell phone to his ear.
"Illinois. Hi Cass," Lizzy smiles up to him.
"Elizabeth," he nods at her while pocketing his phone before turning to Sam. "Hello Sam." He then looks to Dean. "Dean."
Looking back to Lizzy for a beat, ready to ask what's wrong, Castiel's face furrows in confusion before looking back to Dean. He knew it was Dean, never had a second thought about it, until he realized the look of the hunter he knows so well is drastically different. He's a she. Well, that's a new one.
"Well I assume this is why I was called."
"Good guess," Sam speaks up. "Dean just woke up like this."
"What have you been hunting?" Castiel asks as he walks across the room to stand in front of Dean.
"A vengeful spirit," Lizzy tells him. "But we took care of it last night."
"This is not the work of a vengeful spirit," Castiel confirms for them as he bends at the waist and leans forward, peering closely at Dean only about an inch from his face.
"No shit, Cass," Dean returns, hugging the blanket even tighter into himself with the angel's scrutiny. "Dude, I'm breathing your air!." This is the first time she's had a bite in her voice since leaving the bathroom.
"Sorry," Castiel says and stands upright, taking a step away. "It's just… clearly it's you, Dean."
"I repeat, no shit Cass," Dean angrily echoes.
"I just… I can't seem to understand how," he explains with what the hunters could only guess is slight fear. "Angels can't make this happen. I'm not sure what actually could. I have never seen this before."
"Great," Dean says with sarcasm. "I'm the first. I'm the first person in fucking existence to be turned into a chick magically. Oh yeah, this is awesome!"
"Hey," Lizzy says in a soothing voice, pulling the angry woman's attention back onto her. "It doesn't matter."
"Yes it does!" Dean shouts with wide eyes. "I'm not me! This!" She opens the blanket and reveals her completely different body. "This is not who I am!"
"No, it's not," Lizzy agrees, getting up and kneeling onto the carpet at Dean's feet. "But it's you up here, right?" She brings a hand to the side of Dean's head, brushing long, dark blond strands out of the way as she does.
"Yeah," Dean's still fired up tone agrees.
"And here?" Lizzy presses a hand to the new woman's chest over her heart.
"Now you're just being a big ass chick flick," she tells Lizzy grumpily.
"See, it is you," she grins back when the words coming from the blond woman are clearly her man's. "This sucks but we'll fix this. We will. I promise I'll do whatever I can to get you back to the way you were. We all will."
"This is so fucked up." The hopelessness in her voice is crushing.
"I know, Dean. But I'm still here, aren't I?"
"Yes." His voice sounds like an insolent child.
"Then trust me, trust us," Lizzy calmly asks of Dean. "You know I'll do anything for you. I'll make sure you're ok."
Lizzy then does something unexpected. She cups Dean's face, the smooth skin under her fingers much different than the usual stubble she normally feels there, and pulls the woman down to meet her lips. Lizzy kisses Dean just like she always does, all heated love and absolute comfort. Dean responds instantly, forgetting for just a moment that things have changed at all. This is familiar, this is normal, this is home.
The kiss turning into something longer and a bit more heated than either expected, Dean hides in the embrace and never wants to stop and come back to the messed up reality she awoke into.
Sam and Castiel, however, stand stock still with the display. It is shocking to see happen and highly unexpected. And sadly, as they are men at the very base of it all, they can't look away. Both women are beautiful, both willing partners, and both very much into each other. This is how every Penthouse letter starts, right?
Sam blinks a few times and remembers what he's viewing. That's his brother. The hot chick making out with Lizzy is his brother. Wow, and he didn't think it'd get much more awkward. He was very wrong. He suddenly thinks the closet door on the other side of the room is quite fascinating to look at.
"I love you," Lizzy whispers against the woman's lips.
"Thank God you're such an open chick," Dean smiles small for the first time all morning while looking into Lizzy's bright brown eyes, the orbs sparkling while looking at her like they always do.
"Well, open to you," she grins wide and kisses her one quick time more. She then gets up, opens the blanket Dean is wrapped up in, and takes a seat on her lap. Cuddled against the very much smaller, softer, and curvier frame, Lizzy lets Dean bring her arms around her curled up body just like she always does.
Dean knows what Lizzy is up to. She's trying to keep it familiar and safe. Lizzy wants Dean to know she's still there and not going anywhere. It's working.
"What can we do Cass?" Lizzy questions as she rests her head against the side of Dean's, both faces looking at him for answers they desperately want.
"Figure out what did this," he states simply. "It's got to be something powerful, something that most likely will be difficult to go up against."
"Of course," Sam mutters, knowing the story never really changes for them. "You have any ideas?"
"A very strong witch maybe," Cass answers, looking hard at Dean. "Possibly a god, or a priestess practiced in the hoodoo arts."
"It's a starting place," Lizzy optimistically comments while covering her own hands over Dean's under the blanket they're sharing.
"I will see what I can find on my end," the angel promises and pauses for a second, still staring at Dean. After a few more seconds Lizzy can feel Dean shifting uncomfortably under her.
"Cass, what?" Dean asks under his glare. "You wanna make out or something?"
"No," Castiel quickly denies. "No. I was just thinking… this form, though not your own, still looks like you. It suites you surprisingly well."
Once the remark is out there, Castiel disappears.
"Holy shit," Dean says instantly before looking at Lizzy. "I think he likes me."
"He was just trying to be nice, dumbass," Lizzy laughs as she kisses Dean on the cheek and stands back up to grab her clothes. "What do you say we get you dressed, huh?"
"Fuck…"