The Inner Feminine 2/2
Title: The Inner Feminine 2/2
Author: el_spirito23
Characters: Dean, Sam, John
Genre/pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Word-count: 3,009
Spoilers: none
Warnings: Some language and a bit of violence
Summary: Dean gets hurt on a hunt and a witch's curse throws the whole family for a loop.
Disclaimer: Still not mine. (unfortunately.)
Created for hoodie_time's Dean-focused h/c tags challenge for the prompt 'broken bone.' Also fills hc_bingo's 'unexpected sex change' square.
The next day, Dean wakes up. The doctors stopped the bleeding caused by his ribs popping out, but he's still weak and sore and they're giving him some blood to make up for the stuff that sprayed all over Sam's face and oozed out between his organs beneath his skin. He's also still recovering from a whammy of a concussion that the doctors want to 'keep a close eye on,' and that has Sam more than a little concerned, especially when it comes to how he'll react to Dad.
Sam and Dad are both there when Dean starts shifting, his eyelids fluttering. Dad makes a quick exit; they've already decided it would probably be better for Sam to be the only one there when Dean wakes up to ease him in to the whole Dad-is-actually-a-woman thing.
"Sam?" Dean whispers, his voice raspy. He reaches for the nasal cannula running under his nose but winces halfway through the movement. "Th' hell?"
"Hey, stay still, Dean," Sam says, leaning forward and wrapping a hand over Dean's. "Your ribs are pretty screwed up, so it's gonna hurt to move too much, and you still need the oxygen for now."
"Oh," Dean says, frowning and squinting against the light. "Concussion too?"
"Yep," Sam answers, rubbing at his neck. "So, uh, how much do you remember of what happened?"
"Not a whole lot. We were on a hunt, I think I nailed a tree? And…and Dad, there was something wrong with Dad," Dean says, trying to shove himself upright and gasping in pain.
"Dean, Dean, he's fine, okay? Just calm down and I'll explain."
Dean settles and lies back against the pillow, teeth clamped together and nostrils flared as he rides out a wave of pain.
"What. Do you mean. Explain?" He demands after a minute, his voice intimidating despite its weakness.
"I mean Dad's okay, but he's…different."
"Different," Dean repeats. "Sam, stop beating around the bush and tell me what the hell is going on."
"Okay, okay, it's just, he's," Sam pauses and swallows thickly, then quickly continues as Dean growls. "He's a woman, okay?"
Dean looks utterly gobsmacked.
"Bullshit," he says.
Sam can't help but smile and shakes his head.
"No, I'm serious. He's like, a full-on chick."
"Full-on…like, boobs and everything?" Dean asks, a smirk starting to play at the corners of his mouth.
"Yeah," Sam says, trying to stifle a laugh and not really succeeding. "He had to buy a bra last night, said they were getting in his way."
Dean snorts then groans and presses a hand to his side.
"Shit Sam, don't make me laugh," he mutters, and Sam mumbles a quick apology. "But other than that, he's okay?"
Sam looks uncomfortable.
"Yeah, but he's, I dunno, he's kinda hormonal. He, uh, cries now. A lot."
Dean groans. "Hormonal? He PMSing?"
Sam looks horrified. "Shit, I never thought of that," he mutters. "This sucks."
"Out loud," Dean agrees. "Where is he, then?"
"You, uh, you kinda freaked out on him when you were in the emergency room."
Dean blushes and looks down, swearing lightly under his breath.
"Dude, it's not like it was your fault," Sam adds quickly. "And he's just in the cafeteria. I can go get him if you want."
"Yeah, sure," Dean says, his familiar smirk once again gracing his features. "Can't wait to see him as a chick."
Sam mirrored Dean's grin.
"Oh, it's precious."
xxxx
After another day of blood, oxygen, and loud complaints, Dean declares himself well enough to be discharged and while the doctors don't necessarily agree, they do allow that he's doing better and, barring any unforeseen complications, will probably be fine at home. Dad's embraced (at least to some degree) his more feminine side and pleads with the doctors to just let him (her) take his boy home and give him the care he deserves, throwing in a few muffled sobs for effect. The doctors eat it up and Sam suspects that that had more to do with Dean's early release than anything Dean said, but Dad makes it clear that if Dean hears about it, Sam will be getting beaten up by a girl.
Dad pushes the wheelchair they insist Dean uses to get to the car, while Sam carries the bag full of various antibiotics and painkillers Dean will be downing for the foreseeable future. Dean, for his part, is grumbling at the use of the wheelchair, but his face is white and drained of color, and the slightest bump has him squeezing his eyes shut and clutching at his ribs, so Sam figures he's complaining out of habit more than anything else.
They get to the car and Sam and Dad work together to get Dean into the back seat, propping him up with a few pillows Dad picked up. Sam climbs into the passenger seat and closes the door, then turns around to check on Dean. He's already sleeping and Dad's tucking a blanket around his torso. As Sam watches, he thumbs his forehead and then leans down and presses a kiss to his hair. Sam turns back around, feeling like he's simultaneously just invaded something very private and witnessed a completely uncharacteristic action. It freaks him out a tiny bit.
He tries to look nonchalant when Dad clambers into the front seat, his slender form taking up much less room than normal; Dad bought a single pair of pants and one shirt that actually fits him "out of necessity" to avoid drawing undue attention, but Sam thinks he just got irritated with having to hitch his pants up all the time.
"What?" Dad growls (though it sounds more like a purr), so Sam must not have looked as blasé as he'd tried to.
"Nothing," he says.
"Damn right," Dad mutters, gunning out of the parking lot.
xxxx
They decide to rent a tiny one-room apartment for a while, until Bobby and Dad can figure out what the hell happened and how to fix it, and to give Dean some time to convalesce. He complains, loudly, that he's up for the trip back to Bobby's, but he still looks on the verge of passing out every time he tries to move, so Sam and Dad ignore him and decide to just stay in contact with Bobby for updates.
In the meantime though, they still need to eat and pay rent, and Dean isn't going to be doing any hustling, so Dad buys some 'sexy clothes' and heads out to do some hustling. Sam and Dean watch him go, dressed in a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a tank top that shows off his newly acquired cleavage.
"How do you think he's gonna do?" Sam asks as soon as the door's shut.
"He's a damn good hustler normally, so…once he hits his groove as a woman, it should be fine. Long as he doesn't piss off the whole bar first."
Sam snorts. "Yeah, or…" his voice trails off and he makes a strange face. "You think if Dad were to, you know, hook up, that he could get-"
"Sam! Shit! Shut up!" Dean barks, looking horrified. "Damn, I need to wipe my freaking mind clean."
Sam laughs, then moans.
"It's kinda hilarious to picture, but it's just so gross!" He cries, easily dodging out of Dean's range as his brother throws a weak kick his direction.
When Dad comes home a couple of hours later, money held up in one hand and grinning like he's just won the lottery, Sam bursts into giggles, Dean makes vomiting sounds, and Dad just looks confused.
xxxx
The next evening, Dean's sleeping like the dead (or the heavily medicated) on the couch, snoring lightly, and Sam's reading Lord of the Flies when Dad comes in from the grocery store with bags loading up both hands.
"Dad?" Sam asks, perplexed.
"Making dinner," Dad answers.
"Really? Why?" Sam says, frowning.
"Because you boys need to be fed right, that's why. Now shut up and read your book until dinner's ready."
Sam turns back to his book, once again unsettled by the peculiar blend of Dad's usual gruff demeanor and his more feminine side.
An hour later, Dad brings Dean a cup of steaming tomato soup, helping him sit semi-upright and making sure he has a tight grip on the bowl before directing Sam to the table.
"I want to eat with Dean," Sam says, then winces, waiting for his Dad to blow up about his manners, but instead Dad shrugs.
"We can both eat with him," he says, taking his own bowl and sitting on the floor near where Dean's propped up on the couch.
Sam, eyes wide, follows. This new Dad is really throwing him off. Dean too, apparently, because as Dad sits there eating his tomato rice soup and often looking up at Dean to make sure he's okay, Dean starts to get a little misty eyed, though he tries to hide it. Sam shrugs and attributes it to Dean's pain killers and goes back to his own soup.
xxxx
Dean gets the only bed, with Sam on the floor next to him and Dad on the couch in the other room. Even moving from the couch to the bed leaves Dean pale and pinched looking, and he falls asleep almost immediately after finally dropping into it. A few hours later though, he wakes up gasping for air and panting in pain, almost sobbing as he tries to catch his breath around his screaming ribs. Sam wakes up fully ready to leap to his rescue and is surprised when Dad beats him to it even from the couch in the other room, cradling Dean in his arms and speaking in low tones to him. As Sam drifts back to sleep, he can hear something that sounds suspiciously like "Ramblin' Man" drifting into the room in a low-pitched female voice.
xxxx
The next morning, Bobby calls saying he thinks he has the cure and he's booking it to their apartment. Dad lets out a sigh of relief and claps Sam on the back (and that would have hurt so much more if Dad had been himself) and announces that he's got some celebrating to do.
Dean and Sam spend the next two hours watching old reruns of Bonanza on TV, poking fun at Little Joe and Hoss until Dad bursts back into the room, plastic bags dangling from his arms and something big taking up the bulk of his hand space. Sam looks up in surprise.
"That was quick," he says. "Thought you'd need more time to get all your celebrating in."
"What?" Dad says, unloading the groceries he's purchased. "I'm celebrating with you boys."
Dean blinks in surprise and Sam's mouth drops open as Dad reveals a chocolate cake and a gallon of milk.
"This is what you got for celebrating?" Dean whispers.
"Well yeah," Dad says, cutting into the cake with a flourish. "Besides, we kinda skipped over your birthday earlier this year, Deano, so this is partially for that."
Dean smiles almost shyly, and Sam realizes it's probably the first time in recent memory Dad's remembered Dean's birthday without Sam prodding him to.
"We can have some now and tonight, after I transform back, we'll finish it off."
Dean's beaming by this time, and Sam feels himself grinning broadly too. They eat the cake and Dad even joins them in watching Bonanza and for a moment, everything seems strangely…normal.
xxxx
That night after Bobby gets back, Dad drinks the potion and retreats to the bedroom so that he won't be naked in front of the boys. Or Bobby.
"Bobby, you sonofabitch, I owe you one," Dad roars, coming out of the room himself again. He envelops Bobby in a big bear hug, then turns to the boys.
"You glad to see your old man back?"
"Yeah," Sam says, meaning it. The mood swings and all were really freaking him out. Dean echoes him quietly, but he doesn't look quite as convinced as Sam does.
"I feel like some celebration, old man!" Dad crows, wrapping an arm around Bobby's shoulders. "Drinks are on me tonight!"
Dean clears his throat gently, almost sheepishly.
"Do you, uh, want some of the cake, Dad?" He asks quietly. Dad looks confused, then laughs.
"Oh, no, you boys go ahead. More for you, huh?"
Bobby gives them an apologetic look, and then they're out the door and Sam and Dean are alone again.
"Well, glad that's over," Sam says carefully, looking at Dean as he speaks. Dean turns away, focusing on the blank TV.
"Yeah," he murmurs.
"You want some cake?"
"No, Sam. Thanks."
Sam turns the TV on and flips between the channels a bit before stopping with a forced laugh.
"Wow Dean, Bonanza is still on!"
"Yeah. Wow," Dean says. He looks crestfallen and exhausted, like someone just stole his puppy. Sam lays a hand on Dean's leg and they watch the rest of the show in silence.
Author: el_spirito23
Characters: Dean, Sam, John
Genre/pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Word-count: 3,009
Spoilers: none
Warnings: Some language and a bit of violence
Summary: Dean gets hurt on a hunt and a witch's curse throws the whole family for a loop.
Disclaimer: Still not mine. (unfortunately.)
Created for hoodie_time's Dean-focused h/c tags challenge for the prompt 'broken bone.' Also fills hc_bingo's 'unexpected sex change' square.
The next day, Dean wakes up. The doctors stopped the bleeding caused by his ribs popping out, but he's still weak and sore and they're giving him some blood to make up for the stuff that sprayed all over Sam's face and oozed out between his organs beneath his skin. He's also still recovering from a whammy of a concussion that the doctors want to 'keep a close eye on,' and that has Sam more than a little concerned, especially when it comes to how he'll react to Dad.
Sam and Dad are both there when Dean starts shifting, his eyelids fluttering. Dad makes a quick exit; they've already decided it would probably be better for Sam to be the only one there when Dean wakes up to ease him in to the whole Dad-is-actually-a-woman thing.
"Sam?" Dean whispers, his voice raspy. He reaches for the nasal cannula running under his nose but winces halfway through the movement. "Th' hell?"
"Hey, stay still, Dean," Sam says, leaning forward and wrapping a hand over Dean's. "Your ribs are pretty screwed up, so it's gonna hurt to move too much, and you still need the oxygen for now."
"Oh," Dean says, frowning and squinting against the light. "Concussion too?"
"Yep," Sam answers, rubbing at his neck. "So, uh, how much do you remember of what happened?"
"Not a whole lot. We were on a hunt, I think I nailed a tree? And…and Dad, there was something wrong with Dad," Dean says, trying to shove himself upright and gasping in pain.
"Dean, Dean, he's fine, okay? Just calm down and I'll explain."
Dean settles and lies back against the pillow, teeth clamped together and nostrils flared as he rides out a wave of pain.
"What. Do you mean. Explain?" He demands after a minute, his voice intimidating despite its weakness.
"I mean Dad's okay, but he's…different."
"Different," Dean repeats. "Sam, stop beating around the bush and tell me what the hell is going on."
"Okay, okay, it's just, he's," Sam pauses and swallows thickly, then quickly continues as Dean growls. "He's a woman, okay?"
Dean looks utterly gobsmacked.
"Bullshit," he says.
Sam can't help but smile and shakes his head.
"No, I'm serious. He's like, a full-on chick."
"Full-on…like, boobs and everything?" Dean asks, a smirk starting to play at the corners of his mouth.
"Yeah," Sam says, trying to stifle a laugh and not really succeeding. "He had to buy a bra last night, said they were getting in his way."
Dean snorts then groans and presses a hand to his side.
"Shit Sam, don't make me laugh," he mutters, and Sam mumbles a quick apology. "But other than that, he's okay?"
Sam looks uncomfortable.
"Yeah, but he's, I dunno, he's kinda hormonal. He, uh, cries now. A lot."
Dean groans. "Hormonal? He PMSing?"
Sam looks horrified. "Shit, I never thought of that," he mutters. "This sucks."
"Out loud," Dean agrees. "Where is he, then?"
"You, uh, you kinda freaked out on him when you were in the emergency room."
Dean blushes and looks down, swearing lightly under his breath.
"Dude, it's not like it was your fault," Sam adds quickly. "And he's just in the cafeteria. I can go get him if you want."
"Yeah, sure," Dean says, his familiar smirk once again gracing his features. "Can't wait to see him as a chick."
Sam mirrored Dean's grin.
"Oh, it's precious."
xxxx
After another day of blood, oxygen, and loud complaints, Dean declares himself well enough to be discharged and while the doctors don't necessarily agree, they do allow that he's doing better and, barring any unforeseen complications, will probably be fine at home. Dad's embraced (at least to some degree) his more feminine side and pleads with the doctors to just let him (her) take his boy home and give him the care he deserves, throwing in a few muffled sobs for effect. The doctors eat it up and Sam suspects that that had more to do with Dean's early release than anything Dean said, but Dad makes it clear that if Dean hears about it, Sam will be getting beaten up by a girl.
Dad pushes the wheelchair they insist Dean uses to get to the car, while Sam carries the bag full of various antibiotics and painkillers Dean will be downing for the foreseeable future. Dean, for his part, is grumbling at the use of the wheelchair, but his face is white and drained of color, and the slightest bump has him squeezing his eyes shut and clutching at his ribs, so Sam figures he's complaining out of habit more than anything else.
They get to the car and Sam and Dad work together to get Dean into the back seat, propping him up with a few pillows Dad picked up. Sam climbs into the passenger seat and closes the door, then turns around to check on Dean. He's already sleeping and Dad's tucking a blanket around his torso. As Sam watches, he thumbs his forehead and then leans down and presses a kiss to his hair. Sam turns back around, feeling like he's simultaneously just invaded something very private and witnessed a completely uncharacteristic action. It freaks him out a tiny bit.
He tries to look nonchalant when Dad clambers into the front seat, his slender form taking up much less room than normal; Dad bought a single pair of pants and one shirt that actually fits him "out of necessity" to avoid drawing undue attention, but Sam thinks he just got irritated with having to hitch his pants up all the time.
"What?" Dad growls (though it sounds more like a purr), so Sam must not have looked as blasé as he'd tried to.
"Nothing," he says.
"Damn right," Dad mutters, gunning out of the parking lot.
xxxx
They decide to rent a tiny one-room apartment for a while, until Bobby and Dad can figure out what the hell happened and how to fix it, and to give Dean some time to convalesce. He complains, loudly, that he's up for the trip back to Bobby's, but he still looks on the verge of passing out every time he tries to move, so Sam and Dad ignore him and decide to just stay in contact with Bobby for updates.
In the meantime though, they still need to eat and pay rent, and Dean isn't going to be doing any hustling, so Dad buys some 'sexy clothes' and heads out to do some hustling. Sam and Dean watch him go, dressed in a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a tank top that shows off his newly acquired cleavage.
"How do you think he's gonna do?" Sam asks as soon as the door's shut.
"He's a damn good hustler normally, so…once he hits his groove as a woman, it should be fine. Long as he doesn't piss off the whole bar first."
Sam snorts. "Yeah, or…" his voice trails off and he makes a strange face. "You think if Dad were to, you know, hook up, that he could get-"
"Sam! Shit! Shut up!" Dean barks, looking horrified. "Damn, I need to wipe my freaking mind clean."
Sam laughs, then moans.
"It's kinda hilarious to picture, but it's just so gross!" He cries, easily dodging out of Dean's range as his brother throws a weak kick his direction.
When Dad comes home a couple of hours later, money held up in one hand and grinning like he's just won the lottery, Sam bursts into giggles, Dean makes vomiting sounds, and Dad just looks confused.
xxxx
The next evening, Dean's sleeping like the dead (or the heavily medicated) on the couch, snoring lightly, and Sam's reading Lord of the Flies when Dad comes in from the grocery store with bags loading up both hands.
"Dad?" Sam asks, perplexed.
"Making dinner," Dad answers.
"Really? Why?" Sam says, frowning.
"Because you boys need to be fed right, that's why. Now shut up and read your book until dinner's ready."
Sam turns back to his book, once again unsettled by the peculiar blend of Dad's usual gruff demeanor and his more feminine side.
An hour later, Dad brings Dean a cup of steaming tomato soup, helping him sit semi-upright and making sure he has a tight grip on the bowl before directing Sam to the table.
"I want to eat with Dean," Sam says, then winces, waiting for his Dad to blow up about his manners, but instead Dad shrugs.
"We can both eat with him," he says, taking his own bowl and sitting on the floor near where Dean's propped up on the couch.
Sam, eyes wide, follows. This new Dad is really throwing him off. Dean too, apparently, because as Dad sits there eating his tomato rice soup and often looking up at Dean to make sure he's okay, Dean starts to get a little misty eyed, though he tries to hide it. Sam shrugs and attributes it to Dean's pain killers and goes back to his own soup.
xxxx
Dean gets the only bed, with Sam on the floor next to him and Dad on the couch in the other room. Even moving from the couch to the bed leaves Dean pale and pinched looking, and he falls asleep almost immediately after finally dropping into it. A few hours later though, he wakes up gasping for air and panting in pain, almost sobbing as he tries to catch his breath around his screaming ribs. Sam wakes up fully ready to leap to his rescue and is surprised when Dad beats him to it even from the couch in the other room, cradling Dean in his arms and speaking in low tones to him. As Sam drifts back to sleep, he can hear something that sounds suspiciously like "Ramblin' Man" drifting into the room in a low-pitched female voice.
xxxx
The next morning, Bobby calls saying he thinks he has the cure and he's booking it to their apartment. Dad lets out a sigh of relief and claps Sam on the back (and that would have hurt so much more if Dad had been himself) and announces that he's got some celebrating to do.
Dean and Sam spend the next two hours watching old reruns of Bonanza on TV, poking fun at Little Joe and Hoss until Dad bursts back into the room, plastic bags dangling from his arms and something big taking up the bulk of his hand space. Sam looks up in surprise.
"That was quick," he says. "Thought you'd need more time to get all your celebrating in."
"What?" Dad says, unloading the groceries he's purchased. "I'm celebrating with you boys."
Dean blinks in surprise and Sam's mouth drops open as Dad reveals a chocolate cake and a gallon of milk.
"This is what you got for celebrating?" Dean whispers.
"Well yeah," Dad says, cutting into the cake with a flourish. "Besides, we kinda skipped over your birthday earlier this year, Deano, so this is partially for that."
Dean smiles almost shyly, and Sam realizes it's probably the first time in recent memory Dad's remembered Dean's birthday without Sam prodding him to.
"We can have some now and tonight, after I transform back, we'll finish it off."
Dean's beaming by this time, and Sam feels himself grinning broadly too. They eat the cake and Dad even joins them in watching Bonanza and for a moment, everything seems strangely…normal.
xxxx
That night after Bobby gets back, Dad drinks the potion and retreats to the bedroom so that he won't be naked in front of the boys. Or Bobby.
"Bobby, you sonofabitch, I owe you one," Dad roars, coming out of the room himself again. He envelops Bobby in a big bear hug, then turns to the boys.
"You glad to see your old man back?"
"Yeah," Sam says, meaning it. The mood swings and all were really freaking him out. Dean echoes him quietly, but he doesn't look quite as convinced as Sam does.
"I feel like some celebration, old man!" Dad crows, wrapping an arm around Bobby's shoulders. "Drinks are on me tonight!"
Dean clears his throat gently, almost sheepishly.
"Do you, uh, want some of the cake, Dad?" He asks quietly. Dad looks confused, then laughs.
"Oh, no, you boys go ahead. More for you, huh?"
Bobby gives them an apologetic look, and then they're out the door and Sam and Dean are alone again.
"Well, glad that's over," Sam says carefully, looking at Dean as he speaks. Dean turns away, focusing on the blank TV.
"Yeah," he murmurs.
"You want some cake?"
"No, Sam. Thanks."
Sam turns the TV on and flips between the channels a bit before stopping with a forced laugh.
"Wow Dean, Bonanza is still on!"
"Yeah. Wow," Dean says. He looks crestfallen and exhausted, like someone just stole his puppy. Sam lays a hand on Dean's leg and they watch the rest of the show in silence.