All of the Boys and All of the Girls (Can't You See What I See?) 2/12
Title: All of the Boys and All of the Girls (Can’t You See What I See?)
Summary: When the war ended, Dean discovered love. She may have made some questionable choices after that. Mainly, the whole “she” thing. Dean/Cas.
Rating: R for language
Chapters: 11 (plus epilogue)
A/N: I honestly don’t know where this came from. But it was persistent. It wouldn’t stop nagging until I finally finished it. It’s cracked-out, though. Long-ass title from “If U Seek Amy” by Britney Spears (yeah, I know. Just don’t ask, ok?).
Warnings: Genderswap, language, and flashbacks in italics (some people don’t like those).
Disclaimer: I don’t own the song that the title is derived from, nor do I own the characters created by one Mr. Eric Kripke.
Chapter 1
Six Months Later
Sam Winchester pushed the door open and walked into the bar. It was the kind of place that reminded him of home, of late nights getting drunk with his brother, of cheap beer and cheaper girls. He’d missed it.
He’d missed a lot of things, actually.
Wasn’t like he’d had much of a choice, though, being more of a cause of the Apocalypse than Dean. Being so deeply entangled, having his head so far in the sand that he couldn’t see the violent shit storm whirling around him. Not until it was too late. Not until Ruby had a gun pointed at his chest and the ground shook and Lucifer was so close. Not until the absolute last minute.
And just when he’d started to feel better about himself, just when Dean had gotten him convinced that anyone would have fallen for Ruby’s act, things had gotten worse.
Then he’d just felt like a stupid ass, had been so ashamed, so hurt, had felt so pathetic that his only choice was to run. To get away. To leave Dean to his thoughts.
Six months later, and here he was, in some seedy dive, with the familiar first notes of “You Shook Me All Night Long” wafting through the smoky air.
Someone whistled. Heads were turning. Boots were stomping in time to the beat. He looked up at the bar to see a girl standing on the scuffed wooden countertop, doing a solo Coyote Ugly in a simple black tank top, faded jeans, and biker boots.
She bent down toward one of the patrons and pulled a proffered twenty from his hand, winking back at the man as she sauntered along the top of the bar and shoved the money down into her shirt, hips swaying to the beat. Shortish blonde hair whipped around as she turned, green eyes flashing as she reached for more cash, the flush in her cheeks almost masking a small spattering of freckles.
She was good dancer, but an even better con. Sam had her pegged for a hunter in an instant. She fit the mold. Rock music, old clothes, and the same glint that Dean had in his eyes every time he found himself a mark.
She spun again, looking out over the bar, and froze. Her eyes locked onto Sam’s as her face went slack and she paled. She hopped from the bar and ran down a back hall, toward the bathroom, the sound of booing echoing after her as she went.
Suddenly suspicious, Sam began pushing through the crowd, trying to follow. An elbow connected firmly with his side and he glared at the man who had pushed him. Dark hair, blue eyes. So familiar that Sam actually had to stop and think about where he might have seen him before.
But then the moment of shock was gone, and he was running after the mystery man clad in ratty jeans and a leather jacket. Another hunter, maybe? A pair? So why run?
Unless they knew. Unless they’d heard the stories, seen his face. Maybe they’d even been there. Maybe he was being led straight into a trap.
He stopped in the middle of the hallway, breathing hard, trying to control his racing thoughts. No. No, there hadn’t been anyone there at the end but himself, Ruby, Dean, and Castiel.
Castiel.
The angel with the dark hair and the blue eyes. They man that had elbowed him to get to the girl with the freckles and the badass attitude.
Holy shit.
Sam realized who the pair was a split second before he heard the sound of flapping wings coming from the men’s room.
-.-
“He’s still alive,” Dean muttered, smiling slightly as she threw everything she owned into her duffle bag, glaring at Cas until he began doing the same. “He’s still alive.”
“Then why are we running?”
Dean stopped and turned to face him. “He’s not gonna understand.”
“I don’t understand.”
She smirked. “Wouldn’t expect you to, featherhead.” She reached up and ruffled his hair, leaning in for a short kiss. “Just pack your crap. We should head home.”
Home. The word still made her smile. Just thinking about the little cabin by the lake, the place she hadn’t even had to ask for. A birthday gift. The first one she’d gotten since the age of seven.
And it was so much better than that crappy convenience store keychain Dad had picked up between hunts and handed over in mid-March with a mumbled apology.
Just a place out in the woods, small and safe and theirs. Left abandoned for years until Cas had stumbled across it, fixed it up for them. For her. Because she was, now and forever, a her. The decision made as warm fingers had slipped around her, even though it was dangerous. Permanency being nine-tenths, or something.
But they had a house. A home. A nice little place that they didn’t exactly own, but got to keep, anyway. And she’d never been happier that she had made him keep his wings, selfish as it was.
They were going home. Hunting was hunting, and hustling was hustling, and big blue puppy-dog eyes and Jedi mind tricks might have gotten them some spending cash and free food when they needed it, but she was tired.
Besides, Sam knew they were there. Sam, who hadn’t showed in half a year, who had left so suddenly, had found them. And she wondered why he’d been looking when he could have just called, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that they’d been found, and Dean did not want her brother to see her like this.
A girl.
A woman. Small and helpless and weak even though she could kick Cas’ ass six ways to Sunday. Not like that was a difficult thing to do, mind you. Guy was really more of a guardian than a warrior.
Her guardian. The one to whisk her out of Hell back when she’d still been a he. The one to take her from the bar when Sammy got too close.
She threw her bag on the bed and watched the angel run around packing, trying to catch up.
He finished and tossed his bag next to hers, turning to face her, still looking far too small in her old jacket, torn jeans, ratty shirt. “You think he’ll judge you.”
Not a question. Not telepathy, either. Six months together, and the guy just knew her.
“He won’t understand. He won’t get it. He thinks I’m straight.”
Castiel smiled and took her hands in his. “Technically, you are.”
She opened her mouth to respond when a fist pounded hard on the door. “He found us.”
“You don’t know that.”
But she did. The bar had been less than a block away, the Impala was parked in front of their room, and Sam wasn’t an idiot. “Get us outta here, Cas.”
The doorknob rattled, something shaking in the keyhole as Sam attempted to pick the lock.
“Now!”
The door opened and Sam stood there, staring at them, their bodies pressed together as Cas pulled her in closer, arms wrapping around her. Protection.
“Hiya, Sammy,” she whispered. “Long time, no see.”
Chapter 3
Summary: When the war ended, Dean discovered love. She may have made some questionable choices after that. Mainly, the whole “she” thing. Dean/Cas.
Rating: R for language
Chapters: 11 (plus epilogue)
A/N: I honestly don’t know where this came from. But it was persistent. It wouldn’t stop nagging until I finally finished it. It’s cracked-out, though. Long-ass title from “If U Seek Amy” by Britney Spears (yeah, I know. Just don’t ask, ok?).
Warnings: Genderswap, language, and flashbacks in italics (some people don’t like those).
Disclaimer: I don’t own the song that the title is derived from, nor do I own the characters created by one Mr. Eric Kripke.
Chapter 1
Six Months Later
Sam Winchester pushed the door open and walked into the bar. It was the kind of place that reminded him of home, of late nights getting drunk with his brother, of cheap beer and cheaper girls. He’d missed it.
He’d missed a lot of things, actually.
Wasn’t like he’d had much of a choice, though, being more of a cause of the Apocalypse than Dean. Being so deeply entangled, having his head so far in the sand that he couldn’t see the violent shit storm whirling around him. Not until it was too late. Not until Ruby had a gun pointed at his chest and the ground shook and Lucifer was so close. Not until the absolute last minute.
And just when he’d started to feel better about himself, just when Dean had gotten him convinced that anyone would have fallen for Ruby’s act, things had gotten worse.
Then he’d just felt like a stupid ass, had been so ashamed, so hurt, had felt so pathetic that his only choice was to run. To get away. To leave Dean to his thoughts.
Six months later, and here he was, in some seedy dive, with the familiar first notes of “You Shook Me All Night Long” wafting through the smoky air.
Someone whistled. Heads were turning. Boots were stomping in time to the beat. He looked up at the bar to see a girl standing on the scuffed wooden countertop, doing a solo Coyote Ugly in a simple black tank top, faded jeans, and biker boots.
She bent down toward one of the patrons and pulled a proffered twenty from his hand, winking back at the man as she sauntered along the top of the bar and shoved the money down into her shirt, hips swaying to the beat. Shortish blonde hair whipped around as she turned, green eyes flashing as she reached for more cash, the flush in her cheeks almost masking a small spattering of freckles.
She was good dancer, but an even better con. Sam had her pegged for a hunter in an instant. She fit the mold. Rock music, old clothes, and the same glint that Dean had in his eyes every time he found himself a mark.
She spun again, looking out over the bar, and froze. Her eyes locked onto Sam’s as her face went slack and she paled. She hopped from the bar and ran down a back hall, toward the bathroom, the sound of booing echoing after her as she went.
Suddenly suspicious, Sam began pushing through the crowd, trying to follow. An elbow connected firmly with his side and he glared at the man who had pushed him. Dark hair, blue eyes. So familiar that Sam actually had to stop and think about where he might have seen him before.
But then the moment of shock was gone, and he was running after the mystery man clad in ratty jeans and a leather jacket. Another hunter, maybe? A pair? So why run?
Unless they knew. Unless they’d heard the stories, seen his face. Maybe they’d even been there. Maybe he was being led straight into a trap.
He stopped in the middle of the hallway, breathing hard, trying to control his racing thoughts. No. No, there hadn’t been anyone there at the end but himself, Ruby, Dean, and Castiel.
Castiel.
The angel with the dark hair and the blue eyes. They man that had elbowed him to get to the girl with the freckles and the badass attitude.
Holy shit.
Sam realized who the pair was a split second before he heard the sound of flapping wings coming from the men’s room.
-.-
“He’s still alive,” Dean muttered, smiling slightly as she threw everything she owned into her duffle bag, glaring at Cas until he began doing the same. “He’s still alive.”
“Then why are we running?”
Dean stopped and turned to face him. “He’s not gonna understand.”
“I don’t understand.”
She smirked. “Wouldn’t expect you to, featherhead.” She reached up and ruffled his hair, leaning in for a short kiss. “Just pack your crap. We should head home.”
Home. The word still made her smile. Just thinking about the little cabin by the lake, the place she hadn’t even had to ask for. A birthday gift. The first one she’d gotten since the age of seven.
And it was so much better than that crappy convenience store keychain Dad had picked up between hunts and handed over in mid-March with a mumbled apology.
Just a place out in the woods, small and safe and theirs. Left abandoned for years until Cas had stumbled across it, fixed it up for them. For her. Because she was, now and forever, a her. The decision made as warm fingers had slipped around her, even though it was dangerous. Permanency being nine-tenths, or something.
But they had a house. A home. A nice little place that they didn’t exactly own, but got to keep, anyway. And she’d never been happier that she had made him keep his wings, selfish as it was.
They were going home. Hunting was hunting, and hustling was hustling, and big blue puppy-dog eyes and Jedi mind tricks might have gotten them some spending cash and free food when they needed it, but she was tired.
Besides, Sam knew they were there. Sam, who hadn’t showed in half a year, who had left so suddenly, had found them. And she wondered why he’d been looking when he could have just called, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that they’d been found, and Dean did not want her brother to see her like this.
A girl.
A woman. Small and helpless and weak even though she could kick Cas’ ass six ways to Sunday. Not like that was a difficult thing to do, mind you. Guy was really more of a guardian than a warrior.
Her guardian. The one to whisk her out of Hell back when she’d still been a he. The one to take her from the bar when Sammy got too close.
She threw her bag on the bed and watched the angel run around packing, trying to catch up.
He finished and tossed his bag next to hers, turning to face her, still looking far too small in her old jacket, torn jeans, ratty shirt. “You think he’ll judge you.”
Not a question. Not telepathy, either. Six months together, and the guy just knew her.
“He won’t understand. He won’t get it. He thinks I’m straight.”
Castiel smiled and took her hands in his. “Technically, you are.”
She opened her mouth to respond when a fist pounded hard on the door. “He found us.”
“You don’t know that.”
But she did. The bar had been less than a block away, the Impala was parked in front of their room, and Sam wasn’t an idiot. “Get us outta here, Cas.”
The doorknob rattled, something shaking in the keyhole as Sam attempted to pick the lock.
“Now!”
The door opened and Sam stood there, staring at them, their bodies pressed together as Cas pulled her in closer, arms wrapping around her. Protection.
“Hiya, Sammy,” she whispered. “Long time, no see.”
Chapter 3