Untitled - Sam/Dean - Fic
Title: Untitled [11]
Author:benitle
Rating: PG-13 (?)
Pairing: Sam/Dean Winchester
Fandom: Supernatural
Warnings/Spoilers: Wincest, no spoilers, genderswap
Word count: ca. 1,340
Feedback: Yes, please!
Disclaimer: This story is complete fiction. It never happened. I don't own the characters.
Summary: After a spell one of the Winchesters is turned into a girl.
Note: Written for pheebs1’s first prompt 1. Pulp Fiction style, begin in the middle, end at the beginning, mess with structure over at 60_minute_fics. I nearly didn't finish it in 60 minutes which was very little for this fic. Consider it more of a draft, there's not even much genderswap in it. I might extend it to something longer if someone would be interested in reading it.
##
“Are you feeling better today?”
There’s true concern in Dean’s voice, honest distress after a long night of not sleeping, of lying awake and just thinking. Worrying. Thinking about how this’ll affect Sam, him, them, how to solve a problem they don’t know how to solve, where they don’t even know where to start looking or whom to ask for help.
He promised Sam not to call Dad, nor Pastor Jim or Caleb or anyone else they trust. Dean never breaks his promises, especially not those made to his baby brother.
“I think I am,” Sam says, before stretching, heaving a tired body out of bed.
Dean can’t help it, can’t help but look as Sam walks towards the bathroom to do whatever, piss, shower, vomit, brush his teeth, Dean doesn’t know. He just watches as Sam moves, light and elegant as always - he never had that slightly bow-legged walk like Dean does.
He’s drifting with his thoughts. Probably because everything would be nicer, easier than this and here and now.
“Dean, you’d help a lot if you’d stop staring at me as if I were some…”
Sam never finishes the sentence as he blushes, his soft cheeks turning pink, somewhat healthy on a pale, grey face, otherwise embossed by worries and fear.
“I’m sorry Sammy.”
The younger Winchester nods, finally going into their latest motel’s bathroom, closing the door quickly.
##
An old deity. Dating back to pre-Christian times. They’ve done their research as always. Some fucked up deity that women in some hidden place of the Ancient Persian Empire used to worship for whatever reasons; safety of their husbands, protection of their children. But mostly: fertility.
Another one of those “meant to be good” supernatural players that now cause trouble. Dean has no idea how it’s happened this time, how something putatively harmless now can turn into something dangerous that finishes off people in the area of Southern Wisconsin, but all that matters anyway is to find the stupid statue, destroy it and put an end to this insanity.
They do. They do because they always do their jobs thoroughly. Dean laughs at the thought that something as harmless looking as the statue made of stone, the statue of a chubby woman can cause so much pain.
Sam smirks too as he smashes it with the iron rod they brought. As it shatters they look at each other, they smile at another job successfully done; it only takes a split second. A split second too long not to notice the green, poisonous veil emerging from the statue, enveloping Sam.
They clean up the different pieces of rock, getting rid off the mess they made before Dean places a soft hand on Sam’s lower back and whispers the word, “Let’s get out of here, Sammy.”
##
Dean can’t remember bringing a girl home last night when Sam and he went out for a beer to celebrate another job completed, completed to their satisfaction. He tries to think hard but he’s sure that Sam and he went back to the motel together.
Carefully he opens one eye, checking the situation. An old tactic. If the chick’s ugly (though Dean doesn’t pick up ugly girls), he’ll simply close his eyes and pretend to be still asleep. This’ll win him some more important minutes to figure out how to get rid off her.
Right. That’s definitely a girl snuggling up to him, lying in his arms. Her body feels warm and soft against his. Long brown hair, a little curly, her face hidden in the crook of Dean’s neck. Opening his eyes should be alright, he concludes, she looks good alright, slim, tall, freakishly long legs. They’re both naked and Dean curses the fact that he must have been so drunk that he can’t even remember having sex with the chick.
Dean shifts slightly, his arm already numb. Carefully, he tries to wriggle free but it’s not careful enough as she starts shifting and moving, slowly waking up.
He feels uncomfortable and immediately scans the room for Sam hoping that he did not see or hear any of this. But with the covers being kicked down, exposing Dean’s naked body and the naked body of the girl, there’s not much hope.
“Hey,” she whispers softly as she slowly wakes up.
Dean can’t help but shy back as much as he can when she cranes her neck to kiss him on the lips.
“Uhm,” Dean mumbles, noticing there is no way to escape.
“What,” she laughs, “Dean, are you suddenly turned off by my morning breath? You never complained before.”
“What? Who? Erm.” He doesn’t know what to say and just wishes for this situation to end, for her to vanish.
“Dean, what’s wrong with you? Do I look funny?”
With finishing the sentence she sits up, looking down at herself.
Then she screams.
##
Dean did not break his promise. He did not call Caleb. He wrote him an email, asking him to call Sam.
Dean thinks this is not breaking a promise.
Caleb immediately hears that there was something wrong. He’s not dumb after all. Sam’s voice is lighter, softer and Caleb had a little hint from Dean to start with. It took him about 23 minutes to find out that Sam is no longer a Samuel but a Samantha.
Caleb probably thought the joke was funny, but judging from Sam’s angry look (that Caleb can’t see on the other line, of course) he doesn’t even find it slightly amusing.
They talk. For ages.
Sam and Dean sorted a few things out during the last 4 weeks of Sam being a girl. They put one and one together and know whom to blame. The statue. They found out that it was jinxed but after that, they couldn’t get much further.
Caleb could.
It’s just a spell, he says. Something that should wear off by itself, something they have no influence on. Sam sighs miserably in the phone as Caleb explains him that the number five is associated with fertility and that this means that it should be over after 5 weeks.
Or five months.
Or five years.
After that, Sam tells him to stop.
##
Their relationship changes, everything is so different.
Sam doesn’t feel comfortable at first when Dean looks at her or touches her, Sam as a girl has not as much physical strength as Sam as a boy, even though she is still as tall as before. Her movements are a little funny, seem unbalanced.
She’s moody at times, especially the week when she’s having her periods. She doesn’t whine but Dean knows Sam well enough to spot pain when he sees it.
As the weeks go by, she becomes more self-confident, flirts back when someone at a bar flirts with her, definitely enjoying the jealous looks Dean gives her. She likes the attention, something Sam the boy never did.
Dean makes a note to ask her about it why this is so different once she’s back to being a boy.
It takes a long time until Sam lets Dean close again, until she would allow him to hug, to touch, to comfort. Even when she’s having nightmares, she wouldn’t let Dean hold her until she’s gone back to sleep.
It hurts. It hurts not being needed, the separation between them. But Dean understands and tells himself to be patient. It’s not easy but when Sam lets him back into bed, figuratively speaking, it’s mind blowing.
And even though after about 4 weeks they are almost back to normal, having returned to a routine they both can live with, Dean feels the unease in both himself and worse, in Sam.
He makes a decision.
##
When Dean wakes up, he feels a strong body pressed against his. Hard, with muscles.
He opens his eyes (one only, mind you) and when he sees Sam’s chestnut mop, the short hair, the familiarity back, then he laughs to himself, because he’s never been happier about Sam’s morning breath before.
Author:benitle
Rating: PG-13 (?)
Pairing: Sam/Dean Winchester
Fandom: Supernatural
Warnings/Spoilers: Wincest, no spoilers, genderswap
Word count: ca. 1,340
Feedback: Yes, please!
Disclaimer: This story is complete fiction. It never happened. I don't own the characters.
Summary: After a spell one of the Winchesters is turned into a girl.
Note: Written for pheebs1’s first prompt 1. Pulp Fiction style, begin in the middle, end at the beginning, mess with structure over at 60_minute_fics. I nearly didn't finish it in 60 minutes which was very little for this fic. Consider it more of a draft, there's not even much genderswap in it. I might extend it to something longer if someone would be interested in reading it.
##
“Are you feeling better today?”
There’s true concern in Dean’s voice, honest distress after a long night of not sleeping, of lying awake and just thinking. Worrying. Thinking about how this’ll affect Sam, him, them, how to solve a problem they don’t know how to solve, where they don’t even know where to start looking or whom to ask for help.
He promised Sam not to call Dad, nor Pastor Jim or Caleb or anyone else they trust. Dean never breaks his promises, especially not those made to his baby brother.
“I think I am,” Sam says, before stretching, heaving a tired body out of bed.
Dean can’t help it, can’t help but look as Sam walks towards the bathroom to do whatever, piss, shower, vomit, brush his teeth, Dean doesn’t know. He just watches as Sam moves, light and elegant as always - he never had that slightly bow-legged walk like Dean does.
He’s drifting with his thoughts. Probably because everything would be nicer, easier than this and here and now.
“Dean, you’d help a lot if you’d stop staring at me as if I were some…”
Sam never finishes the sentence as he blushes, his soft cheeks turning pink, somewhat healthy on a pale, grey face, otherwise embossed by worries and fear.
“I’m sorry Sammy.”
The younger Winchester nods, finally going into their latest motel’s bathroom, closing the door quickly.
##
An old deity. Dating back to pre-Christian times. They’ve done their research as always. Some fucked up deity that women in some hidden place of the Ancient Persian Empire used to worship for whatever reasons; safety of their husbands, protection of their children. But mostly: fertility.
Another one of those “meant to be good” supernatural players that now cause trouble. Dean has no idea how it’s happened this time, how something putatively harmless now can turn into something dangerous that finishes off people in the area of Southern Wisconsin, but all that matters anyway is to find the stupid statue, destroy it and put an end to this insanity.
They do. They do because they always do their jobs thoroughly. Dean laughs at the thought that something as harmless looking as the statue made of stone, the statue of a chubby woman can cause so much pain.
Sam smirks too as he smashes it with the iron rod they brought. As it shatters they look at each other, they smile at another job successfully done; it only takes a split second. A split second too long not to notice the green, poisonous veil emerging from the statue, enveloping Sam.
They clean up the different pieces of rock, getting rid off the mess they made before Dean places a soft hand on Sam’s lower back and whispers the word, “Let’s get out of here, Sammy.”
##
Dean can’t remember bringing a girl home last night when Sam and he went out for a beer to celebrate another job completed, completed to their satisfaction. He tries to think hard but he’s sure that Sam and he went back to the motel together.
Carefully he opens one eye, checking the situation. An old tactic. If the chick’s ugly (though Dean doesn’t pick up ugly girls), he’ll simply close his eyes and pretend to be still asleep. This’ll win him some more important minutes to figure out how to get rid off her.
Right. That’s definitely a girl snuggling up to him, lying in his arms. Her body feels warm and soft against his. Long brown hair, a little curly, her face hidden in the crook of Dean’s neck. Opening his eyes should be alright, he concludes, she looks good alright, slim, tall, freakishly long legs. They’re both naked and Dean curses the fact that he must have been so drunk that he can’t even remember having sex with the chick.
Dean shifts slightly, his arm already numb. Carefully, he tries to wriggle free but it’s not careful enough as she starts shifting and moving, slowly waking up.
He feels uncomfortable and immediately scans the room for Sam hoping that he did not see or hear any of this. But with the covers being kicked down, exposing Dean’s naked body and the naked body of the girl, there’s not much hope.
“Hey,” she whispers softly as she slowly wakes up.
Dean can’t help but shy back as much as he can when she cranes her neck to kiss him on the lips.
“Uhm,” Dean mumbles, noticing there is no way to escape.
“What,” she laughs, “Dean, are you suddenly turned off by my morning breath? You never complained before.”
“What? Who? Erm.” He doesn’t know what to say and just wishes for this situation to end, for her to vanish.
“Dean, what’s wrong with you? Do I look funny?”
With finishing the sentence she sits up, looking down at herself.
Then she screams.
##
Dean did not break his promise. He did not call Caleb. He wrote him an email, asking him to call Sam.
Dean thinks this is not breaking a promise.
Caleb immediately hears that there was something wrong. He’s not dumb after all. Sam’s voice is lighter, softer and Caleb had a little hint from Dean to start with. It took him about 23 minutes to find out that Sam is no longer a Samuel but a Samantha.
Caleb probably thought the joke was funny, but judging from Sam’s angry look (that Caleb can’t see on the other line, of course) he doesn’t even find it slightly amusing.
They talk. For ages.
Sam and Dean sorted a few things out during the last 4 weeks of Sam being a girl. They put one and one together and know whom to blame. The statue. They found out that it was jinxed but after that, they couldn’t get much further.
Caleb could.
It’s just a spell, he says. Something that should wear off by itself, something they have no influence on. Sam sighs miserably in the phone as Caleb explains him that the number five is associated with fertility and that this means that it should be over after 5 weeks.
Or five months.
Or five years.
After that, Sam tells him to stop.
##
Their relationship changes, everything is so different.
Sam doesn’t feel comfortable at first when Dean looks at her or touches her, Sam as a girl has not as much physical strength as Sam as a boy, even though she is still as tall as before. Her movements are a little funny, seem unbalanced.
She’s moody at times, especially the week when she’s having her periods. She doesn’t whine but Dean knows Sam well enough to spot pain when he sees it.
As the weeks go by, she becomes more self-confident, flirts back when someone at a bar flirts with her, definitely enjoying the jealous looks Dean gives her. She likes the attention, something Sam the boy never did.
Dean makes a note to ask her about it why this is so different once she’s back to being a boy.
It takes a long time until Sam lets Dean close again, until she would allow him to hug, to touch, to comfort. Even when she’s having nightmares, she wouldn’t let Dean hold her until she’s gone back to sleep.
It hurts. It hurts not being needed, the separation between them. But Dean understands and tells himself to be patient. It’s not easy but when Sam lets him back into bed, figuratively speaking, it’s mind blowing.
And even though after about 4 weeks they are almost back to normal, having returned to a routine they both can live with, Dean feels the unease in both himself and worse, in Sam.
He makes a decision.
##
When Dean wakes up, he feels a strong body pressed against his. Hard, with muscles.
He opens his eyes (one only, mind you) and when he sees Sam’s chestnut mop, the short hair, the familiarity back, then he laughs to himself, because he’s never been happier about Sam’s morning breath before.