Fic: Dean's Dream Comes True - Almost
Originally posted by jj1564 at Fic: Dean's Dream Comes True - Almost
Title: Dean’s Dream Comes True - Almost
Characters: Dean and Sam
Words: 3099
Rating: PG13 for language
Summary: Dean finds an old lamp in one of the Bunker's storage rooms. Sam warns Dean not to rub it, but of course Dean ignores him and they end up being chased by lions in the African bush.
Notes: This is a piece of silliness, inspired by a comment I made to milly_gal about Impala sex! Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. I have slightly changed the abilities of the yee naaldlooshii to fit the story - and the lamp!
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, this is just for fun!
Also on AO3
“Sammy!” Dean’s cry echoed through the Bunker’s corridors, “You gotta see this!”
Sam was already on his feet as Dean burst into the kitchen, clasping in his hands an old-fashioned brass oil lamp.
“We’ve hit the motherlode, dude,” Dean grinned and held the lamp out to show his brother. “Three wishes, man, we’re gonna be rich and…”
“Dean, do you really think that’s a magic lamp and a genie’s gonna pop out?” Sam interjected.
“Stranger things have happened,” Dean retorted, “and it’s about time we had some good luck.”
“When do we ever get good luck?” Sam sighed, “And, even if there is a genie trapped inside, it’s not going to be a benevolent one. Remember the djinn?”
“How could I forget,” Dean grimaced at the memory, “Those freaky bastards messed with the wrong dudes, twice.”
“And that old coin in the wishing well?” Sam continued, still hoping to dissuade Dean from rubbing the damned lamp. “Your wish for a sandwich went bad, as I recall, and you got beaten up by a tiny eight-year old boy.”
“Well, you got struck by lightning!” Dean retorted, and then smiled at the memory. “Hey, that man-sized teddy bear was a hoot though - and we’d never been teddy bear doctors before,”
“Yeah, that was kinda funny,” Sam agreed with a grin, before returning to the point. “But if that lamp has magical powers, they’ll be bad news. Where did you find it?”
“Um, well, it was in a warded box…” Dean admitted.
“For fuck’s sake, Dean, you have to put it back where it belongs,” Sam protested.
“You’re such a stickler for details, Sammy,” Dean grumbled, looking longingly at the lamp.
“Promise me you’ll put it back and that you won’t do anything stupid…”
“Okay, okay, jeez, I’m not a complete dumbass,”
Sam raised an eyebrow and Dean blushed under his scrutiny - dammit, his little brother knew him too well.
“Show me where it came from,” Sam replied, “and we’ll put it back together.”
“It hurts that you don’t trust me, Sammy,” Dean pouted.
“Suck it up; I’d rather distrust you than have you fall prey to a djinn again.”
“It might not be a djinn…” Dean started to say, but shrugged as Sam gave him another scathing look, adding, “Right, let’s put it back.”
Later that night, Dean waited until Sam went to his room before sneaking back to the storage area and the warded boxes. He retrieved the lamp and crept back to his own room.
“Okay, here goes nothing…” he muttered, rubbing the lamp with the hem of his shirt. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved when there was a distinct lack of an appearance by a genial blue genie with Robin Williams’s voice. “And, of course, nothing happens. That’s just peachy.” He grumbled as he rubbed his thumb over the pattern etched into the lamp. To his surprise the lamp started to glow and a golden haze drifted from it.
“Holy shit!” Dean yelled, hoping Sam hadn’t heard him.
As Dean stared in wonder at the lamp, the golden haze drifted around him and he heard a seductive whisper “I can make your dreams come true.” The golden haze curled around him and Dean’s head swam; feeling dizzy, he sat down on his bed and waved his arms around trying to dislodge the haze.
The haze didn’t move, if anything it seemed to wrap itself closer around him and he heard the alluring whisper again “I can make your dreams come true.”
“What the fuck?” Dean groaned as the haze pushed him back down on the bed, repeating its offer.
Dean tried to think straight, but he was overcome with the need to find out if the haze could really make his dreams come true. He decided to start with something that he had dreamed of since Sam had helped him wash his Baby a few months ago. It wasn’t a dream of riches or world peace, but if it worked, Dean would ask for those next…okay, perhaps not world peace, as that made him sound like a Miss Universe contestant.
The haze whispered into his ear again, more urgently, “I can make your dreams come true.” So Dean made his wish.
************
Dean was instantly transported to a completely unfamiliar landscape - a huge plain, covered in yellowing grass dotted with scrubby trees, and it was frigging hot!
“Fuck, Sam’s gonna be so damned happy when he knows he was right,” Dean thought as he looked around, wiping away the sweat from his forehead. In the distance there was a herd of some kind of deer - no, not deer, they were antelopes - he’d seen enough nature documentaries to know that.
He also knew he wasn’t in Kansas anymore. “I bet I won’t be able to poop for a week after this,” he grumbled to himself.
One of the antelopes started running straight at him, and it had fucking huge horns. Dean reached for his gun before remembering it was on his nightstand, and his knife was safely tucked under his pillow. He had nothing to protect himself from the rapidly advancing animal charging towards him.
Dean started to run, knowing it was pretty pointless, and expecting to be trampled or gored at any moment by Bambi’s very angry African cousin. Just his fucking luck - what a stupid way to die; he should’ve listened to Sam.
In fact, he could hear Sam’s voice, yelling “what did you do, you stupid bastard?” which was all kinds of weird, as all Dean had seen since arriving a few short minutes ago were the antelopes.
His pursuer rounded on him, yelling “For God’s sake stop!”
Dean stopped dead in his tracks. The antelope was in front of him, looking right at him and fucking talking to him. This was some weird shit - that golden haze must be hallucinogenic.
“Dean, what the fuck did you do?” the antelope demanded in Sam’s voice.
Dean grinned, sure that this was all some kind of haze-inspired dream. “Great, I’m Doctor-fucking-Doolittle, and you’re a…a Sam-telope!”
“This isn’t funny, Dean,” the Sam-telope griped, “I woke up here, and I feel really strange, I’m on all fours, my head’s really heavy and my eyes aren’t where they should be…”
Dean was laughing so hard now tears streamed down his face; when he looked back at the Sam-telope, he was sure the animal was giving him a Sammy bitch-face.
“Stop laughing,” the Sam-telope demanded, “I told you not to touch that fucking lamp!”
“Jeez, don’t get your antlers in a twist,” Dean chuckled, “damn; this is the weirdest dream ever.”
The Sam-telope trotted right up to him and stamped one very hard hoof down on Dean’s right foot.
“Ow!” Dean cried, “I think you broke my toe! What the fuck?”
“Just proving this isn’t a dream. This is your fault, you stupid…”
“Hey, I’m not gonna stand here and be insulted by a dumb animal.”
“Takes one to know one, jerk.” the Sam-telope retorted. Then his eyes widened and his nostrils flared; he yelled “Dean, run!”
“Oh very funny, you break my toe…” Dean began, but now he could hear hoof beats behind him; turning, he saw the rest of the herd hurtling frantically towards them. Dean started to run but his toe was too painful, so he hobbled as fast as he could.
“Fuck, lions are coming,” the Sam-telope cried out in dismay, “Dean, get on my back,”
“I’m too heavy,” Dean protested.
“Just do it, I only need to get you as far as that tree.”
Dean scrambled onto the Sam-telope’s back and they headed for the nearest tree. Dean grabbed a branch to pull himself up, but it wasn’t strong and he doubted it would hold for long.
“Run, Sammy!” Dean could see the lions approaching, two of them, and they were heading for the tree rather than following the herd.
“I’m not leaving you!” the Sam-telope retorted, standing his ground and dropping his head down, horns at the ready.
Dean was sure they were both going to be lion-fodder, but just as the lions were almost upon them, gunshots rang out and the lions ran off, no doubt in pursuit of the herd. Dean felt a twinge of sympathy for the antelopes.
“What are you doing, you idiot?” a voice called out. Dean twisted to find the direction of their savior and the branch promptly gave a loud crack, depositing him swiftly on to the hard ground.
“Stupid tourists,” another voice muttered. Dean looked up into the faces of two black guys; one was looking amused and the other very angry. They wore non-military uniforms, with the logo of the Kenyan National Parks on their shirts.
“You were very lucky we were on our rounds, my friend,” the amused guy said, holding out his hand to help Dean up. Dean dusted his clothes down and thanked the man, wincing at the pain in his back from his crash landing.
“What the hell were you thinking of, coming out in the bush with no guide, no weapon, no provisions?” the angry guy demanded.
“Daniel, give the guy a break, he’s hurt,” the amused guy cut in.
“He’s lucky he’s not dead, the dumbass,” Daniel retorted.
“I’m Anthony,” the other guy informed him, “we’ll get you back to our base to treat your injuries,”
“Thanks, Anthony, I’m Dean, and I’m okay…” Dean lied as well as he could.
“You’re bleeding out, you stupid, ignorant fool. The predators will soon be back to finish you off,” Daniel growled.
Dean hadn’t realized that he had scratched his arms on the branch, and had several bleeding wounds. “Oh, fuck, just when I thought today couldn’t get any worse,” he sighed.
Anthony laughed, “You Americans, you’re so funny!”
The Sam-telope chose that moment to approach, nudging Dean’s arm with his nose.
“I’m okay, Sammy,” Dean patted the Sam-telope’s neck, “I’ll sort this mess out.”
“I’ve never seen a wild impala respond like that to anyone,” Anthony mused, “and you called it…Sammy?”
“Yeah, well, it kinda befriended me and it looks a bit like my brother, Sam,” Dean replied as Sam gave a snort. “Wait, did you say he’s an impala? Really?”
“Yes, they are a common species of antelope here.” Anthony replied, “But right now we need to get you back to our base for medical treatment, you are very pale. Come along now, Dean,”
Dean limped after the two guides, unable to hide a groan as his back, head and toe all throbbed in unhappy unison. Anthony returned to place his strong arm around Dean’s shoulder, supporting his weight as they walked to the guide’s Jeep.
“Thanks, dude; and I just wanna say I sure appreciate you guys turning up when you did,” Dean told him as they neared the Jeep. Anthony helped Dean into the vehicle, and Daniel handed him a bottle of water.
“Drink it slowly, dumbass,” Daniel said as he climbed into the driver’s seat, still muttering about stupid tourists and arrogant Americans.
“Excuse my friend’s lack of manners, he has a hangover,” Anthony winked at Dean and climbed in next to him.
“Um, how far’s your base?” Dean asked, looking out at the Sam-telope, who was watching from a distance.
“Only a few miles, we’ll be there in no time.” Anthony replied. “Your impala can keep up with us if he wants to,” he added with a chuckle.
The terrain was rough and bumpy, but exhaustion soon claimed Dean. He woke up lying on a bed with a drip in his arm and thumping headache.
“Hello, Dean, my friend!” Anthony greeted him from his seat next to the bed. Dean’s heart sank - he was still in Africa - this was no hallucination.
Holy fuck, he’d turned his brother into a Sam-telope!
“Sammy, I gotta…” he tried to sit up and Anthony placed one big hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“You have concussion, dehydration, a cracked rib and a broken toe, you must rest,” Anthony informed him, looking unusually serious. “The impala followed us here, he is outside the window, I swear he’s waiting for you!” he grinned.
“He’s…my brother…” Dean’s head swam and he closed his eyes. “I gotta get my brother back.”
“Is your brother with you? Is he out in the bush?” Anthony asked in concern.
“Yeah…no…I can’t explain,” Dean whispered as talking loudly hurt his head.
“You should rest; the police will be here later to take your statement,”
“The police? No, I don’t need…” Dean tried to hide his panic.
“You were found in the bush, alone, with nothing but the clothes on your back.” Anthony informed him, “We take robbery from tourists very seriously, Dean. You must rest now.”
“Okay,” Dean mumbled, and closed his eyes, feigning sleep. As soon as Anthony left his side, Dean removed the drip and sat up slowly, trying to ignore the way the room spun. He stood on shaky legs and limped to the window. Sure enough, there was the Sam-telope, standing under a tree, head bowed as he munched the sparse tuffs of grass. “Sammy!” Dean whispered, hoping impala hearing was pretty good. Luckily it was; Sam lifted his head and ambled over to the window.
“You okay?” Sam whispered.
“Yeah, just a few scrapes - oh and a broken fucking toe, thanks so much,” Dean griped.
“At least you’re still human!” Sam retorted. “Seriously, Dean, how the hell did this happen?”
“I think I need to get outta here before the police arrive, and I’ll try to explain then,” Dean’s head hurt, and it wasn’t just from the concussion. Explaining to Sam how his wish had gone so disastrously wrong was not going to be easy.
“Okay, I’ll be here, just take it easy, dumbass,” Sam winked one large eye.
Dean was relieved that he was still fully dressed apart from his boots. He pulled them back on, breaking into a sweat from the pain it caused. “Fuck, this is all kinds of screwed up,” he muttered to himself, “I wanted Sammy to fuck me in the Impala, not to be a fucking impala!”
************
Dean toppled forward and fell onto the floor…of his own room in the Bunker. Dean was beyond relieved, even if he felt like he'd gone ten rounds with Tyson.
“Ouch!” he groaned, and then yelled out for Sam.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice queried from the doorway.
“I’m down here,” Dean called out, relieved to see Sam’s feet and legs coming into view. “Good to see you back on two feet,”
Sam was there, in his own very human body, kneeling next to Dean, his hands already checking him over for injuries. “Oh you’re so funny, you fucking idiot!” Sam sniped.
“Ow!” Dean protested as Sam touched his broken ribs. “Stop, I already know I got a broken rib, concussion and a broken toe, just help me up.”
Sam lifted him gently up onto the bed and stood scowling at him, arms folded, prime bitch face on.
“So, tell me how the hell I ended up as a…what did you call me, a Sam-telope?”
Dean resisted the urge to giggle. “Um, you were actually an impala; it’s a kind of antelope…”
“I know what an impala is,” Sam retorted, “but what I want to know, Dean, is what-the-hell-you-wished-for,”
“I kinda wished, well, it was a dream really, ‘cause the golden haze said it would make my dreams come true, and I didn’t know the stupid son-of -a-bitch would get it so wrong…”
“Dean,” Sam growled in exasperation, “just fucking tell me!”
“Okay,” Dean sighed, feeling a blush rise from his neck to his cheeks, “my dream was that you would fuck me in the Impala…”
Sam burst out laughing and it was Dean’s turn to scowl. Sam sat down next to him on the bed, tucking one long leg under him so he was facing Dean.
“That guy Daniel was right, you are such a dumbass,” Sam smiled at him. “And I should be pissed at you but it’s kind of adorable,”
“Adorable?” Dean sputtered, “I’m not fucking adorable!”
“Oh yes you are,” Sam leaned forward and kissed Dean’s forehead, “and all you had to do was ask.”
“Now I know this really is all some crazy hallucination,” Dean shook his head groaning, “Why can’t I wake up?”
“It’s not a hallucination, Dean, it’s all real,” Sam moved closer to him, leaning in to lift Dean’s chin up and kiss him on the lips.
“Fuck…” Dean murmured as Sam pulled away, “I want…but we’re brothers…and…”
“Dean, I want it too and once you’re healed up, I’m going to fuck you in the Impala, luckily for you not as an impala…”
“I dunno, the horns kinda suited you, I wondered if they were proportional,” Dean smirked.
“Get some sleep, dumbass,” Sam grinned.
“Only if you stay with me, my Sam-telope,” Dean teased.
“You know I will, once I’ve locked that frigging lamp back in its box,” Sam promised.
Sam left Dean to dispose of the lamp and the golden haze returned, whispering “I told you I’d make your dreams come true,” into Dean’s ear.
“Yeah, thanks, but I could’ve lived without the trip to the African bush, dude,” Dean replied; he could swear he heard the frigging haze softly laughing as it evaporated.
When he woke up, Sam was sitting in the bed next to him, reading a Men of Letters journal.
“Hey there, dumbass,” Sam grinned, “I found out what was in the lamp. It’s a spirit called a yee naaldlooshii.”
“A yeenaddy what?” Dean croaked as he reached for the water bottle Sam handed to him.
“It says here that the Navajo believed in a spiritual creature that could transform itself from a human into a wide variety of shapes. It would often use this ability to trick those it encountered and generally throwing peoples' lives into disarray. They could also read minds and give people whatever they wanted, but always with a downside.”
“Like turning you into a friggin’ impala and trying to make me lion lunch, I guess,” Dean grumbled.
“Exactly…it says they were often regarded as trouble both for their incredible abilities, and their tendency to disrupt the day to day lives of the people they visited.” Sam closed the journal. “But I think we owe the yee naaldlooshii a big thank you,” he smiled down at Dean.
“I think you’re right,” Dean agreed, returning Sam’s smile, “and just as soon as you make my dream come true, I’ll send the yeenaddy a fruit basket.”
Title: Dean’s Dream Comes True - Almost
Characters: Dean and Sam
Words: 3099
Rating: PG13 for language
Summary: Dean finds an old lamp in one of the Bunker's storage rooms. Sam warns Dean not to rub it, but of course Dean ignores him and they end up being chased by lions in the African bush.
Notes: This is a piece of silliness, inspired by a comment I made to milly_gal about Impala sex! Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. I have slightly changed the abilities of the yee naaldlooshii to fit the story - and the lamp!
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, this is just for fun!
Also on AO3
“Sammy!” Dean’s cry echoed through the Bunker’s corridors, “You gotta see this!”
Sam was already on his feet as Dean burst into the kitchen, clasping in his hands an old-fashioned brass oil lamp.
“We’ve hit the motherlode, dude,” Dean grinned and held the lamp out to show his brother. “Three wishes, man, we’re gonna be rich and…”
“Dean, do you really think that’s a magic lamp and a genie’s gonna pop out?” Sam interjected.
“Stranger things have happened,” Dean retorted, “and it’s about time we had some good luck.”
“When do we ever get good luck?” Sam sighed, “And, even if there is a genie trapped inside, it’s not going to be a benevolent one. Remember the djinn?”
“How could I forget,” Dean grimaced at the memory, “Those freaky bastards messed with the wrong dudes, twice.”
“And that old coin in the wishing well?” Sam continued, still hoping to dissuade Dean from rubbing the damned lamp. “Your wish for a sandwich went bad, as I recall, and you got beaten up by a tiny eight-year old boy.”
“Well, you got struck by lightning!” Dean retorted, and then smiled at the memory. “Hey, that man-sized teddy bear was a hoot though - and we’d never been teddy bear doctors before,”
“Yeah, that was kinda funny,” Sam agreed with a grin, before returning to the point. “But if that lamp has magical powers, they’ll be bad news. Where did you find it?”
“Um, well, it was in a warded box…” Dean admitted.
“For fuck’s sake, Dean, you have to put it back where it belongs,” Sam protested.
“You’re such a stickler for details, Sammy,” Dean grumbled, looking longingly at the lamp.
“Promise me you’ll put it back and that you won’t do anything stupid…”
“Okay, okay, jeez, I’m not a complete dumbass,”
Sam raised an eyebrow and Dean blushed under his scrutiny - dammit, his little brother knew him too well.
“Show me where it came from,” Sam replied, “and we’ll put it back together.”
“It hurts that you don’t trust me, Sammy,” Dean pouted.
“Suck it up; I’d rather distrust you than have you fall prey to a djinn again.”
“It might not be a djinn…” Dean started to say, but shrugged as Sam gave him another scathing look, adding, “Right, let’s put it back.”
Later that night, Dean waited until Sam went to his room before sneaking back to the storage area and the warded boxes. He retrieved the lamp and crept back to his own room.
“Okay, here goes nothing…” he muttered, rubbing the lamp with the hem of his shirt. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved when there was a distinct lack of an appearance by a genial blue genie with Robin Williams’s voice. “And, of course, nothing happens. That’s just peachy.” He grumbled as he rubbed his thumb over the pattern etched into the lamp. To his surprise the lamp started to glow and a golden haze drifted from it.
“Holy shit!” Dean yelled, hoping Sam hadn’t heard him.
As Dean stared in wonder at the lamp, the golden haze drifted around him and he heard a seductive whisper “I can make your dreams come true.” The golden haze curled around him and Dean’s head swam; feeling dizzy, he sat down on his bed and waved his arms around trying to dislodge the haze.
The haze didn’t move, if anything it seemed to wrap itself closer around him and he heard the alluring whisper again “I can make your dreams come true.”
“What the fuck?” Dean groaned as the haze pushed him back down on the bed, repeating its offer.
Dean tried to think straight, but he was overcome with the need to find out if the haze could really make his dreams come true. He decided to start with something that he had dreamed of since Sam had helped him wash his Baby a few months ago. It wasn’t a dream of riches or world peace, but if it worked, Dean would ask for those next…okay, perhaps not world peace, as that made him sound like a Miss Universe contestant.
The haze whispered into his ear again, more urgently, “I can make your dreams come true.” So Dean made his wish.
************
Dean was instantly transported to a completely unfamiliar landscape - a huge plain, covered in yellowing grass dotted with scrubby trees, and it was frigging hot!
“Fuck, Sam’s gonna be so damned happy when he knows he was right,” Dean thought as he looked around, wiping away the sweat from his forehead. In the distance there was a herd of some kind of deer - no, not deer, they were antelopes - he’d seen enough nature documentaries to know that.
He also knew he wasn’t in Kansas anymore. “I bet I won’t be able to poop for a week after this,” he grumbled to himself.
One of the antelopes started running straight at him, and it had fucking huge horns. Dean reached for his gun before remembering it was on his nightstand, and his knife was safely tucked under his pillow. He had nothing to protect himself from the rapidly advancing animal charging towards him.
Dean started to run, knowing it was pretty pointless, and expecting to be trampled or gored at any moment by Bambi’s very angry African cousin. Just his fucking luck - what a stupid way to die; he should’ve listened to Sam.
In fact, he could hear Sam’s voice, yelling “what did you do, you stupid bastard?” which was all kinds of weird, as all Dean had seen since arriving a few short minutes ago were the antelopes.
His pursuer rounded on him, yelling “For God’s sake stop!”
Dean stopped dead in his tracks. The antelope was in front of him, looking right at him and fucking talking to him. This was some weird shit - that golden haze must be hallucinogenic.
“Dean, what the fuck did you do?” the antelope demanded in Sam’s voice.
Dean grinned, sure that this was all some kind of haze-inspired dream. “Great, I’m Doctor-fucking-Doolittle, and you’re a…a Sam-telope!”
“This isn’t funny, Dean,” the Sam-telope griped, “I woke up here, and I feel really strange, I’m on all fours, my head’s really heavy and my eyes aren’t where they should be…”
Dean was laughing so hard now tears streamed down his face; when he looked back at the Sam-telope, he was sure the animal was giving him a Sammy bitch-face.
“Stop laughing,” the Sam-telope demanded, “I told you not to touch that fucking lamp!”
“Jeez, don’t get your antlers in a twist,” Dean chuckled, “damn; this is the weirdest dream ever.”
The Sam-telope trotted right up to him and stamped one very hard hoof down on Dean’s right foot.
“Ow!” Dean cried, “I think you broke my toe! What the fuck?”
“Just proving this isn’t a dream. This is your fault, you stupid…”
“Hey, I’m not gonna stand here and be insulted by a dumb animal.”
“Takes one to know one, jerk.” the Sam-telope retorted. Then his eyes widened and his nostrils flared; he yelled “Dean, run!”
“Oh very funny, you break my toe…” Dean began, but now he could hear hoof beats behind him; turning, he saw the rest of the herd hurtling frantically towards them. Dean started to run but his toe was too painful, so he hobbled as fast as he could.
“Fuck, lions are coming,” the Sam-telope cried out in dismay, “Dean, get on my back,”
“I’m too heavy,” Dean protested.
“Just do it, I only need to get you as far as that tree.”
Dean scrambled onto the Sam-telope’s back and they headed for the nearest tree. Dean grabbed a branch to pull himself up, but it wasn’t strong and he doubted it would hold for long.
“Run, Sammy!” Dean could see the lions approaching, two of them, and they were heading for the tree rather than following the herd.
“I’m not leaving you!” the Sam-telope retorted, standing his ground and dropping his head down, horns at the ready.
Dean was sure they were both going to be lion-fodder, but just as the lions were almost upon them, gunshots rang out and the lions ran off, no doubt in pursuit of the herd. Dean felt a twinge of sympathy for the antelopes.
“What are you doing, you idiot?” a voice called out. Dean twisted to find the direction of their savior and the branch promptly gave a loud crack, depositing him swiftly on to the hard ground.
“Stupid tourists,” another voice muttered. Dean looked up into the faces of two black guys; one was looking amused and the other very angry. They wore non-military uniforms, with the logo of the Kenyan National Parks on their shirts.
“You were very lucky we were on our rounds, my friend,” the amused guy said, holding out his hand to help Dean up. Dean dusted his clothes down and thanked the man, wincing at the pain in his back from his crash landing.
“What the hell were you thinking of, coming out in the bush with no guide, no weapon, no provisions?” the angry guy demanded.
“Daniel, give the guy a break, he’s hurt,” the amused guy cut in.
“He’s lucky he’s not dead, the dumbass,” Daniel retorted.
“I’m Anthony,” the other guy informed him, “we’ll get you back to our base to treat your injuries,”
“Thanks, Anthony, I’m Dean, and I’m okay…” Dean lied as well as he could.
“You’re bleeding out, you stupid, ignorant fool. The predators will soon be back to finish you off,” Daniel growled.
Dean hadn’t realized that he had scratched his arms on the branch, and had several bleeding wounds. “Oh, fuck, just when I thought today couldn’t get any worse,” he sighed.
Anthony laughed, “You Americans, you’re so funny!”
The Sam-telope chose that moment to approach, nudging Dean’s arm with his nose.
“I’m okay, Sammy,” Dean patted the Sam-telope’s neck, “I’ll sort this mess out.”
“I’ve never seen a wild impala respond like that to anyone,” Anthony mused, “and you called it…Sammy?”
“Yeah, well, it kinda befriended me and it looks a bit like my brother, Sam,” Dean replied as Sam gave a snort. “Wait, did you say he’s an impala? Really?”
“Yes, they are a common species of antelope here.” Anthony replied, “But right now we need to get you back to our base for medical treatment, you are very pale. Come along now, Dean,”
Dean limped after the two guides, unable to hide a groan as his back, head and toe all throbbed in unhappy unison. Anthony returned to place his strong arm around Dean’s shoulder, supporting his weight as they walked to the guide’s Jeep.
“Thanks, dude; and I just wanna say I sure appreciate you guys turning up when you did,” Dean told him as they neared the Jeep. Anthony helped Dean into the vehicle, and Daniel handed him a bottle of water.
“Drink it slowly, dumbass,” Daniel said as he climbed into the driver’s seat, still muttering about stupid tourists and arrogant Americans.
“Excuse my friend’s lack of manners, he has a hangover,” Anthony winked at Dean and climbed in next to him.
“Um, how far’s your base?” Dean asked, looking out at the Sam-telope, who was watching from a distance.
“Only a few miles, we’ll be there in no time.” Anthony replied. “Your impala can keep up with us if he wants to,” he added with a chuckle.
The terrain was rough and bumpy, but exhaustion soon claimed Dean. He woke up lying on a bed with a drip in his arm and thumping headache.
“Hello, Dean, my friend!” Anthony greeted him from his seat next to the bed. Dean’s heart sank - he was still in Africa - this was no hallucination.
Holy fuck, he’d turned his brother into a Sam-telope!
“Sammy, I gotta…” he tried to sit up and Anthony placed one big hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“You have concussion, dehydration, a cracked rib and a broken toe, you must rest,” Anthony informed him, looking unusually serious. “The impala followed us here, he is outside the window, I swear he’s waiting for you!” he grinned.
“He’s…my brother…” Dean’s head swam and he closed his eyes. “I gotta get my brother back.”
“Is your brother with you? Is he out in the bush?” Anthony asked in concern.
“Yeah…no…I can’t explain,” Dean whispered as talking loudly hurt his head.
“You should rest; the police will be here later to take your statement,”
“The police? No, I don’t need…” Dean tried to hide his panic.
“You were found in the bush, alone, with nothing but the clothes on your back.” Anthony informed him, “We take robbery from tourists very seriously, Dean. You must rest now.”
“Okay,” Dean mumbled, and closed his eyes, feigning sleep. As soon as Anthony left his side, Dean removed the drip and sat up slowly, trying to ignore the way the room spun. He stood on shaky legs and limped to the window. Sure enough, there was the Sam-telope, standing under a tree, head bowed as he munched the sparse tuffs of grass. “Sammy!” Dean whispered, hoping impala hearing was pretty good. Luckily it was; Sam lifted his head and ambled over to the window.
“You okay?” Sam whispered.
“Yeah, just a few scrapes - oh and a broken fucking toe, thanks so much,” Dean griped.
“At least you’re still human!” Sam retorted. “Seriously, Dean, how the hell did this happen?”
“I think I need to get outta here before the police arrive, and I’ll try to explain then,” Dean’s head hurt, and it wasn’t just from the concussion. Explaining to Sam how his wish had gone so disastrously wrong was not going to be easy.
“Okay, I’ll be here, just take it easy, dumbass,” Sam winked one large eye.
Dean was relieved that he was still fully dressed apart from his boots. He pulled them back on, breaking into a sweat from the pain it caused. “Fuck, this is all kinds of screwed up,” he muttered to himself, “I wanted Sammy to fuck me in the Impala, not to be a fucking impala!”
************
Dean toppled forward and fell onto the floor…of his own room in the Bunker. Dean was beyond relieved, even if he felt like he'd gone ten rounds with Tyson.
“Ouch!” he groaned, and then yelled out for Sam.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice queried from the doorway.
“I’m down here,” Dean called out, relieved to see Sam’s feet and legs coming into view. “Good to see you back on two feet,”
Sam was there, in his own very human body, kneeling next to Dean, his hands already checking him over for injuries. “Oh you’re so funny, you fucking idiot!” Sam sniped.
“Ow!” Dean protested as Sam touched his broken ribs. “Stop, I already know I got a broken rib, concussion and a broken toe, just help me up.”
Sam lifted him gently up onto the bed and stood scowling at him, arms folded, prime bitch face on.
“So, tell me how the hell I ended up as a…what did you call me, a Sam-telope?”
Dean resisted the urge to giggle. “Um, you were actually an impala; it’s a kind of antelope…”
“I know what an impala is,” Sam retorted, “but what I want to know, Dean, is what-the-hell-you-wished-for,”
“I kinda wished, well, it was a dream really, ‘cause the golden haze said it would make my dreams come true, and I didn’t know the stupid son-of -a-bitch would get it so wrong…”
“Dean,” Sam growled in exasperation, “just fucking tell me!”
“Okay,” Dean sighed, feeling a blush rise from his neck to his cheeks, “my dream was that you would fuck me in the Impala…”
Sam burst out laughing and it was Dean’s turn to scowl. Sam sat down next to him on the bed, tucking one long leg under him so he was facing Dean.
“That guy Daniel was right, you are such a dumbass,” Sam smiled at him. “And I should be pissed at you but it’s kind of adorable,”
“Adorable?” Dean sputtered, “I’m not fucking adorable!”
“Oh yes you are,” Sam leaned forward and kissed Dean’s forehead, “and all you had to do was ask.”
“Now I know this really is all some crazy hallucination,” Dean shook his head groaning, “Why can’t I wake up?”
“It’s not a hallucination, Dean, it’s all real,” Sam moved closer to him, leaning in to lift Dean’s chin up and kiss him on the lips.
“Fuck…” Dean murmured as Sam pulled away, “I want…but we’re brothers…and…”
“Dean, I want it too and once you’re healed up, I’m going to fuck you in the Impala, luckily for you not as an impala…”
“I dunno, the horns kinda suited you, I wondered if they were proportional,” Dean smirked.
“Get some sleep, dumbass,” Sam grinned.
“Only if you stay with me, my Sam-telope,” Dean teased.
“You know I will, once I’ve locked that frigging lamp back in its box,” Sam promised.
Sam left Dean to dispose of the lamp and the golden haze returned, whispering “I told you I’d make your dreams come true,” into Dean’s ear.
“Yeah, thanks, but I could’ve lived without the trip to the African bush, dude,” Dean replied; he could swear he heard the frigging haze softly laughing as it evaporated.
When he woke up, Sam was sitting in the bed next to him, reading a Men of Letters journal.
“Hey there, dumbass,” Sam grinned, “I found out what was in the lamp. It’s a spirit called a yee naaldlooshii.”
“A yeenaddy what?” Dean croaked as he reached for the water bottle Sam handed to him.
“It says here that the Navajo believed in a spiritual creature that could transform itself from a human into a wide variety of shapes. It would often use this ability to trick those it encountered and generally throwing peoples' lives into disarray. They could also read minds and give people whatever they wanted, but always with a downside.”
“Like turning you into a friggin’ impala and trying to make me lion lunch, I guess,” Dean grumbled.
“Exactly…it says they were often regarded as trouble both for their incredible abilities, and their tendency to disrupt the day to day lives of the people they visited.” Sam closed the journal. “But I think we owe the yee naaldlooshii a big thank you,” he smiled down at Dean.
“I think you’re right,” Dean agreed, returning Sam’s smile, “and just as soon as you make my dream come true, I’ll send the yeenaddy a fruit basket.”