Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural…..except for my attic ghost…he kinda came with the house. I also have no Disney affiliations or rights.
Author's Note: Sooooooo sorry for the delay. I took April to compete in NaNoWriMo and although I managed the deadline, I kinda sorta fried my brain. Badly! But anyhow, April is over and I'M BACK! Be looking for updates on Circus Fever and some catch up drabbles also! Now…..where are my Mickey Mouse ears for this project?...Winjennster! Seen my ears anywhere?!
PS: I have reason to believe that holding onto this chapter any longer may in fact be endangering my life. WinJennster knows where I live, and this is truly a story for her. Since this particular chapter is already surpassing the 4k mark, I've decided to lob it off and make it a two part chapter. Don't kill me…..especially you, WinJennster! ;)
Mere hours after Dean had been deposited quite gracelessly upon the hotel floor by Castiel; he was standing in the tree house's kitchen, staring down Sam across the counter. He couldn't tell which one of them was more hung over: Sam's eyes were still red and glazed over but Dean still stunk of tequila and beer. At least Sam had taken a few minutes to get showered. Dean was still far from it.
"Why are we here," Dean asked again as he tried to shade his eyes from the fluorescent light overhead.
Sam tried to scowl at him, but his own hangover was leaving him feeling far from ready to fight with Dean.
"Cause its vacation, Dean," Sam grumbled as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
"Yeah, I know that Sammy. I'm not asking why we—the Winchester brothers, bad ass monster hunters that we are, are standing in a hotel tree house, in Disney, in friggin Florida, in the USA, on the planet Earth. I am asking we—still being all of those same things—are up at 8 friggin AM after we had a late night drinking tequila with the neighbors," Dean exclaimed loudly, noticing how Sam's grimace deepened at his words.
Sam let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through his messy hair. "We are up early because we are going to Epcot today, okay? And regardless of our very late last night, we are getting an early start today."
Dean crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Sam. "You can't make me," he stated firmly as he slowly shook his head. "I am a grown man. I am capable of saying 'no' to my little brother. So here it is, I am NOT going to Epcot with you today. I'm going to go back to my bed and sleep until at least five this evening and after that, I'd be happy to meet you at the bar and have a repeat of last night; cause that is my dream vacation. Deal?"
"No. Get dressed. I worked my ass to get us here, so dammit but we're going to enjoy every day of this even it kills us both," Sam argued back firmly, as he pulled the kitchen dish towel from the hook and twisted it in his hands, a small smirk on his face. "Think I don't mean it?"
Castiel walked into the kitchen just as Dean yelped in pain, stepping away from Sam while coddling his hand, his mouth twisted into a pouty frown. Sam looked from Dean to Cas innocently, the twisted dishtowel dangling from his hand.
"Well Cas, you look ready for today," Sam commented. "Any problems with your flip flops?"
"No Sam, I managed quite well this time, thank you for your inquiry," Castiel replied in his usual monotone voice. "I am quite ready to enjoy another day here."
Dean snorted derisively and turned away from both of them, their enthusiasm for Disney making his hangover worse.
"Dean, I was aware that we would be going into the Disney park today," Castiel said as he held out a plastic shopping bag. "To make your vacation more enjoyable, I picked this shirt out for you yesterday. Sam paid, as I do not carry anything that your fellow humans consider to be of monetary value. The man at the counter assured me it would improve your mood and ability to blend in with the other vacationing humans. I am looking forward to today, I will have many questions for you, as Sam explained that he is not going to be available to answer my questions. Today is your turn."
Dean looked from Castiel to Sam, his face impassive even though he was beginning to turn a shade red. He held out a reluctant hand and took the bag from Castiel, refusing to look at Sam as he did.
"So, Dean, what's the plan," Sam asked with a triumphant smile. "Are you going to get dressed or do you need some more persuasion?"
Dean mumbled under his breath making Sam clear his throat loudly.
"What was that, Dean," Sam asked as he twisted the dishtowel in his hands, the subtle weapon ready to make another snap in Dean's direction.
Dean headed for the hallway, his voice loud and annoyed as he said, "Apparently, I've got a day pass to Epcot hell. Excuse me while I go and strap on my vacation uniform!"
Castiel watched as Dean stormed down the hallway before asking Sam, "Are you and Dean well? You were both quite intoxicated when I placed you in your bed and Dean on the floor just a few hours ago."
"Yeah, we're fine. Just a little hung over is all," Sam said as he grabbed another bottle of water from the fridge. "Wait—why did you put Dean on the floor?"
Castiel turned to Sam and said emotionlessly, "He moved while we were mid-flight. I have warned him several times about such reckless behavior. Unfortunately, it resulted with him on the floor. I can assure you, no harm came to him although since he did sleep on the floor he might be experiencing some back discomfort."
"Hey Cas, head into my bathroom, we need to work on something before we head out today," Sam said. "I'll be there in a minute."
As Castiel headed into Sam's room, Sam paused in the hallway long enough to hear Dean cursing and mumbled to himself in his own room. Sam smirked and continued on to his own room.
Dean, meanwhile, was trying to pry the small window open in his bedroom. It begrudgingly slid open a few inches before the safety latch caught. He stuck his head through the opening before closing his eyes and sighing in deep frustration, he couldn't escape through the window. He hung his head as he dialed Bobby. He knew Bobby wouldn't drive to Florida to save him from something so trivial as vacation, but dammit if Bobby wasn't somewhat responsible. He deserved to hear some of the bitching, maybe not as much as Sam did, but some was more deserved than none.
"What's wrong now, TinkerBell," Bobby asked as he answered the phone.
Bobby didn't need to see Dean to know he was rolling his eyes and getting red tinged with annoyance.
"Bobby, this is hell on earth," Dean stated. "I hate this."
"Dean, it's Disney World, not hell. And don't tell me you can't hack it," Bobby said firmly. "Not after half the crap you put me and your brother through."
"When," Dean demanded, feigning ignorance, as he turned from the window and glared at the shopping bag on the bed.
"I think you mean, which time," Bobby replied. "In case you've forgotten, Sam has been riding shotgun his entire life. He needs some time off, not from hunting, just from life. This is him taking time off."
"Seriously, Bobby, you need to lay off the Dr. Phil afternoon reruns," Dean snapped. "And Sam could have done this alone."
"Then you're a bigger idjit than I thought," Bobby asked incredulously. "You and Sam can't split up for more than two hours without something bad happening. He'd be a moron to think you wouldn't find trouble on your own."
"Stop exaggerating," Dean mumbled even though he knew Bobby was most likely right.
"Suck it up, if for no other reason than to make your brother less miserable," Bobby said. "You've been doing that for most of your life; a few more days aren't going to kill you."
"Whatever," Dean mumbled. "Any jobs come up?"
"One," Bobby admitted. "I got it covered. Not a huge deal, just some revenant up in Washington. And you two are quite a ways out from that job. Got Garth on it, he was already in Oregon."
Dean sighed into the phone and mumbled, "Fine. Call us if anything in our time zone pops up. Doesn't matter what it is, we'll take it."
"I'm sure you would," Bobby chuckled. "Now go suck it up and take this vacation like a man."
"Says the man who has never taken a vacation in his life," Dean quipped before he snapped his phone shut. He turned and glared at the shopping bag before he dumped its contents onto the bed. He groaned as he pulled the t-shirt apart, it was Peter Pan; in fact, it was practically identical to the one Castiel had worn the night before. He snorted as he tossed it back on the bed. If Sam was going to force him to go to stupid Epcot, he could at least slow them down a little. He grabbed a change of clothes and headed towards his bathroom.
A room away, Castiel was staring at Sam, his expression uncertain.
"Just try it Cas, trust me, this is something you need to work on," Sam said encouragingly, smiling widely. "This will make you seem more human, we use expression to convey feelings. You are always stone faced and that makes people feel kinda weird."
Castiel concentrated on Sam's expression before saying, "Smiling is not something that is necessary in my job. Humans smile for everything, I find it very confusing. It is most used to express happiness, but I have seen many people use it to mask poor intentions. If I use it, how will it be interrupted?"
Sam tried to keep the smile from slipping from his face, he briefly considered that he either not drunk enough to handle Castiel at this hour, or far to hung over for this kind of lesson. He stood behind Castiel and rotated him to face the mirror.
"Okay, now smile," Sam said encouragingly.
Castiel looked at Sam's smile before concentrating on his own face. "I have done as you asked," Castiel stated.
Sam rolled his eyes before saying, "Castiel, your expression never changed. Try again. It should look something like mine."
Castiel frowned at Sam's reflection in the mirror before staring at his own face. His forehead furrowed as he slowly tried to contort his mouth into some semblance of a smile. He leaned close to the mirror and fought to turn the edges of his lips upright. Sam watched in amusement, Castiel seemed to be genuinely trying, but it came off looked as if he was investigating his own teeth.
Sam watched as Castiel's frown only deepened, his expression getting farther and farther from a smile as he tried harder and harder to make his lips move properly.
"Cas, look at my face in the mirror. See how smiling looks relaxing and forthcoming? Cause it is; don't force it. Can't you tap into Jimmy's human abilities or something," he asked.
Castiel shook his head as he said, "No, I must do this myself. I am a mighty warrior of the Lord. I can do this."
As Sam heard Dean's shower kick on, he felt his tempter begin to flare. "Cas, keep practicing. I'll be right back."
Sam stormed down the hallway and knocked loudly on the thin door. "Dean, I want us out the door in fifteen minutes, you got it?"
Dean didn't respond to Sam's nagging; except to begin singing at the top of his lungs. Sam glared at the bathroom door as the lyrics for 'Henry the Eighth' poured through the door. Sam gave the door one last loud thump, one that he would have rather landed right on Dean's head; before he turned and headed back into his bathroom. Castiel was still right where Sam had left him, staring awkwardly into the mirror, his Mickey Mouse ears standing at attention.
"Cas, how are you doing with the smiling thing," Sam asked with a sigh.
Sam jumped back as Castiel turned and looked at him. His lips were pulled tightly back from his mouth, his teeth bared in some bizarrely scary deranged half-smile; his eyes where bulged out, the sheer expression making Sam cringe.
"Dude, stop doing that," Sam said, although he couldn't tear his eyes away from Castiel's horrific expression. "That's terrifying— and I hunt monsters for a living!"
Castiel expression instantly reverted his usual stone faced expression. "What did I do incorrectly," Castiel asked. "I believe my smile closely resembled yours. Perhaps you are a poor judge of smiles."
"Cas, if my face ever looks like that, take me to the hospital because it means I'm having a stroke," Sam muttered before he shifted Castiel back to the mirror. "Now look at mine more closely. You can have a toothy smile, but you don't want people to think you're about to bite their face off. Okay?"
"I will continue with my best efforts," Castiel proclaimed stoically. "You have had the benefit of Dean teaching you many things over the years, perhaps he would be more instructive in this lesson."
"Well considering that Dean has yet to crack a smile on this trip, I'd avoid any lessons from him at the moment. Besides, Dean didn't teach me to smile, it's something we just do," Sam grumbled. "Anything he'll teach you right now won't help you to blend in so much as it will just turn you into an ass."
"I don't believe Dean possesses the ability to transform me into a jackass, Sam," Castiel replied. "I think Heaven would have mentioned that in the details regarding Dean."
"Just watch closely, it should appear relaxed; not scary," Sam reiterated as he slowly let a smile blossom over his face. "Like that."
Castiel tried to mimic Sam, his face slowly moving from stern to something close to casually relaxed.
"Good," Sam encouraged. "Now try to add a smile. Not so many teeth this time."
He groaned as Castiel's face shifted back the horrific grin, teeth and gums exposed as his eyebrows lifted high onto his forehead.
Sam sighed, "Just keep trying Cas. Are you ready to head out?"
"I believe I am dressed to the same specifications of last night. Flip flops without socks, the drawstring on the shorts are on the front, and I have my new shirt on correctly," Castiel replied.
Sam looked over at Castiel and shook his head. "You're going to wear the same thing you wore last night," he asked.
"I have worn my suit for many years without a problem," Castiel replied, confused. "Why would my Peter Pan shirt be any different?"
"Well, typically, we try not to repeat the same clothes day in and day out," Sam explained, hoping that Castiel would able to attract less attention than he had yesterday.
"I frequently see you and Dean wearing the same clothing," Castiel counter argued.
"Yeah, well, we wash them between wearing them," Sam said trying to end the conversation.
Castiel looked down at his new shirt and said, "Shall I remove this so you can wash it?"
"No," Sam said getting flustered by the conversation. "Just leave it on. I guess you couldn't have gotten it messed up just by wearing it to Jen and Chris' last night for dinner."
Sam and Castiel were sitting standing in the kitchen when another round of 'Henry the Eighth' floated down the hallway.
"Sam, may I ask you a question," Castiel asked.
"Sure Cas," Sam mumbled as he checked the clock for the twentieth time since he had gotten up that morning. He was really starting to wonder if he should have left Dean at Bobby's, handcuffed in the panic room. This whole plan of his to annoy Sam was really, really starting to work.
"What were your intentions for having dinner with neighbors last night," Castiel asked innocently. "I have been watching you and Dean for years and have never seen you take time to eat with another family before now."
Sam shrugged, suddenly aware that Castiel was scrutinizing him. "I just wanted to, okay? We don't get a chance to relax very often and it was nice to connect to a normal family for a little while. Talking about normal things: food, music, family, and just…normal stuff. Not about needing a supplier of brick dust for witches, or where to get a better fake ID, or anything that is in any way related to what we do. You understand?"
Castiel nodded even though it looked like he wanted to ask another question. Sam was saved from having to deal with it as Dean finally walked into the room, his irritation apparent.
Dean froze as he saw Castiel, his face turning a brilliant shade of red.
"Dude, we are not going to Epcot in matching shirts," he stated loudly.
Castiel stood up and walked next to Dean, standing side by side with him. "They are not the same, yours is gray and mine is blue," he stated.
Dean rolled his eyes. "The picture is the same."
Castiel looked from his own t-shirt to Dean's. "They are both Peter Pan. I was under the impression that in Disney, one dresses this way. Besides, I find the Peter Pan character to be most interesting," Castiel stated. "If you would prefer, I will wear my suit today so you may experience Peter Pan all by yourself."
"I'd rather wear my Metallica shirt," Dean grumbled. He watched as Castiel's face changed; his excitement to please Dean with the shirt short-lived.
"Fine, you know what, I'll wear it," Dean mumbled as he tugged at the collar. "Whatever."
"If you two are ready, I'd like to get a move on," Sam snapped. "We're already running behind."
"Sam, vacations don't come with schedule or deadlines," Dean said as he stepped out of the tree house's door.
"Well, ours does," Sam retorted.
The walk to the monorail was quiet, mostly because Sam refused to acknowledge Dean's further attempts to slow them down; which included everything from having to stop and retie his shoelace twice, trying to double back to the room for a different shirt, to making crude noises behind Sam as he asked someone for directions.
Sam scowled at Dean as he dropped onto a plastic bench in the monorail, far from the other passengers. "You know, I wanted to do this vacation so we could have a break from all the crap we normally deal with. If you wanted to drop the asshole act and enjoy it, it wouldn't be the end of the world," Sam stated firmly. He didn't miss the way Dean tensed up and glared at him.
"Sam, you got me here," Dean said. "Don't ask me to smile like a friggin idiot every time I see a goofy character from some cartoon we saw back when we were kids."
Dean shifted in his own seat, hoping to get Castiel on his side before Sam attempted to throw him from the monorail. He came face to face with Castiel; who was leaning close to Dean, his teeth bared as his lips were pulled tightly open, his eyebrows pulled high upon his forehead.
"Holy crap, Cas," Dean exclaimed as he scrambled back from him. "What the hell are you doing?!"
Sam bit his cheek as he watched Castiel's expression return to normal. "I am smiling, Dean," he explained. "Sam has provided me with a lesson and I need to practice."
Dean glanced at Sam before hesitantly looking back to Castiel. "I would give up now, Cas," he said as he shook his head. "That looked a lot like something we took out in Wisconsin a few years ago, you're lucky I wasn't armed—I could have killed you!"
"I was not aware that smiling evoked such a powerful reaction from people," Castiel stated, sounding somewhat confused. "Sam said it would help me to blend in."
Dean looked angrily at Sam, who shrugged innocently.
"He needs to learn some other expressions, more than that stone-faced encyclopedia salesman face he always has," Sam said.
"He's supposed to be some heavenly bad ass and you want him to look like what? Some friendly salesman selling door to door mammograms," Dean retorted. "I mean look at him now—He went from stern salesman in a trench coat to creepy, weird pedophile in a Peter Pan shirt in a matter of seconds with that face."
"I was just trying to help him," Sam argued.
"By giving him a smiling lesson," Dean exclaimed, glad that no one was sitting close enough to overhear them. "When did this lesson happen, anyways?"
"While you were showering this morning," Castiel stated. "It was my first lesson. I will have to continue to practice."
"Just go easy with that," Dean replied. "You look like you got hit with Joker gas."
They sat silently for the rest of the trip, Castiel stern the entire time, although Dean swore he could see Castiel trying to lift the sides of his mouth. Sam was clenching his teeth as they stepped off the monorail, his frown so deep Dean was tempted to tease him about wrinkles. He took a different approach to annoyance instead.
"This is got to be the best place for any kind of fugly to hang out," Dean remarked casually as he glanced around. "Bet there's a job to be done around here if we bother to look."
"No Dean, we are not here to work," Sam snapped as he gazed up at the giant silver ball that marked the entrance to the park. "Besides, what kind of fugly stakes out Disney World?"
Dean turned towards Sam and said, "I'd say just about any kind. Think about it, family goes to Disney for some great family fun, when suddenly—Surprise! They get eaten by something. Maybe a vamp or a rawhead. Or better yet, a Leviathan! Yeah, this place would be the perfect chomping ground for a Leviathan."
"Dean, quit being an ass," Sam snapped.
"Dude, think about it—some American for breakfast, some Spanish for lunch, and an Asian tourist for dinner….or maybe men for breakfast, women for lunch, and their kids the dinner," Dean said. "Or better yet—Blondes for breakfast, brunettes for lunch, and red heads for dinner."
"Dean, stop being so racist," Sam exclaimed with a groan.
"Dude, I'm not being racist! I'm profiling potential victims, people we should be protecting," Dean said defensively. "We're standing amongst the biggest human buffet we've ever seen and you just wanna go ride on some dumbass educational rides?"
"What are you talking about," Sam asked, as he pulled his own Mickey Mouse ears on.
"I know what Epcot really is, Sam! It's all about different countries and stuff. It's got geography and culture and crap; it's educational," Dean said childishly. "I don't want to go!"
Sam rolled his eyes and ran a hand over his tired face. "Well, I'm sorry that they forgot to install a bunny ranch for your big trip to Disney, but I think you can handle it. Besides, Chris and Jen and their kids are also in Epcot today so if you're lucky we'll run into them," Sam said as he pulled his map out of his pocket. "You and Jen can talk about cars and junk."
Dean turned towards Sam and angrily poked him in the shoulder, getting his attention. "Junk? Cars and junk? You wanna walk back to South Dakota, because I'd be happy to leave you here," Dean snapped. "You insult Baby again and I will stuff your sasquatch ass into one of these Mickey Mouse shaped garbage cans."
If it hadn't been for the likelihood that Dean would actually do it, Sam might have been tempted to laugh at his brother, his Peter Pan shirt and Mickey Mouse ears making him look ridiculous.
"Whatever you say Dean," Sam replied as he led the way into the park.
The next hour was spent slowly roaming in and out between different countries. Dean refused to smile at the large wooden gnome creature in Norway, even though Castiel was trying to identify the exact species.
They watched a drumming show which Sam enjoyed until Castiel stated he remembered when that drumming style was originally developed and how far from the original craft it had become. Dean was mildly amused by the synchronized drummers until he spotted a flash of pink hair off to his left. He didn't hesitate as he darted away from Sam and hustled through the crowd. He would willingly take some Chuck fan to talk to before he would spend the day following Sam around; at least she could talk about cars and music.
He followed behind Jen for a few steps, matching her long stride before she whipped around, looking ready to take down whatever it was she felt stalking her.
"Oh! Sorry Dean," she said as she lowered her hands.
"Thought I was someone needing an ass kicking," Dean asked with a chuckle.
"Nah, just hoping you were," she muttered with a yawn. "I'm way to hung over for a drumming show at this hour. I was ready to break Chris' legs this morning when he said we had to get a move on. He has way to much energy, I just wanted to sleep in."
Dean didn't miss the way her eyes were squinting behind her Buddy Holly glasses.
"Yeah, same here, Sam needed to be duct taped and left in a closet so I could finish sleeping," Dean said. "He and Cas are somewhere around here. Sam's enthusiasm is going to kill me."
"Yeah, I get that. Chris should have left me at the hotel. Kinda hoping he'll just give in and let me wander back to the hotel later, but I can't imagine the attitude I'll catch for it later," she said as she led the way to Chris and her kids.
Dean wasn't surprised to find Sam already talking to Chris while TJ and Katy pulled Castiel over to watch the drummers again.
Jen leaned over and quietly said, "Look at them. Vacationers from hell. Wanna see who we can send into a hissy fit first?"
Dean smirked as he adjusted his Mickey Mouse ears, replying quietly, "Let's do this."
~PLEASE REVIEW~ NEED FUEL FOR THE WRITING MACHINE!
Okay, this is one LONG half chapter. More Epcot adventuring up next chapter!
And WinJennster, hope you liked it! You've been remarkably patience…hehehehehe Next chapter up soon!
Please leave a review! I mean it-you wanna see Castiel's first public smile, you better review. Trust me. You wanna see this. And Sam and Chris, poor boys—They don't stand a chance! Bwahahaha!