Lookie lookie what I found
Title: Once Upon a Dream
Warnings: Um, one short sentence describing incest? Oh, and un-betaed.
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Disclaimer: Supernatural is not in a list of things I own.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: You'd think by this time Dean'd figure out the fact that you shouldn't piss off witches, but apparently he forgot and got himself cursed, Sleeping Beauty style. Now, Sam has to find a way to reverse it - or find the person who loves Dean in basically every way. Written for the 'Wild Card' square in my hc_bingo.
Author's Note: This is probably the last hc_bingo prompt I'm going to fill. (Ironically, it's the first one I wrote.) My muse ran away. Also, it turns out that despite how much I love h/c, I can't write it.
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a beautiful princess.
Actually, now, in a place called Friendship, Maine, there lived a handsome man. Well, he stayed there temporarily. It had to be said that the man was not an ass (most of the time), nor was he spectacularly sweet, nor did he have animals trailing after him, nor did he reject an old women shelter in his home. He was not even an only child. In fact, he had a brother named Sam.
You know what he did have? He had a psycho witch who watched too much Disney movies, who spent three hours debating internally on the merits of Sleeping Beauty verses Beauty and the Beast style curses just because the handsome man (whose name was Dean, by the way,) said he did not like witches, which in his opinion was so not fair. Anyway, in her mind, Sleeping Beauty is in a coma for thousands of years, but Beauty and the Beast would remove the pretty from Dean, which is a plus. But every single person was doing Beauty and the Beast nowadays - not as much as Snow White or Cinderella, which were so overused and so horribly done (like that Chad Michael Murray movie) it was actually really sad, but, again, Beauty and the Beast had been used a lot too. The witch had looked around in time and seen around three and a half Beauty and the Beast adaptations, one of which was so atrocious that she had briefly wished she was Lord Voldemort so she can fire the Killing Curse at the producers. So Sleeping Beauty it was.
Dean’s brother did not make a bunch of girls kiss Dean, he simply stayed with Dean. He held Dean’s hand and once, just once, he kissed Dean on the mouth like he’s Prince Phillip. That was uncomfortable and Dean did not wake up, to Sam’s relief, and he vowed not to ever even think of it ever again. Ever. But he did not know what to do - six billion people on the planet, how the hell would Sam know who Dean’s one true love was? Briefly, he considered Lisa, and Cassie, and Anna, and that blonde girl down the street, but he figured that if they were his true love… well, Sam’s pretty sure that the whole true love thing is bullshit. Also, he had no idea how to contact Cassie or Anna. But the witch didn’t elaborate on, well, anything. So maybe it had to be a true love’s kiss, or a kiss from someone non-related who loved him, or maybe it had to be a prince. Sam really hoped it wasn’t the last one. Where the hell was he supposed to get a freaking prince? England?
But Dean looked so pale and frail just lying there, and it reminded Sam of that car crash, and that was also not a memory he liked to think about. So took one long look at Dean, at his pale, almost translucent, skin and his long lashes and how still he was and decided screw this, he’s researching and saving his brother and then they’re going to take that witch bitch down. The plan had flaws, this Sam was willing to admit, but frankly it was the only thing he had right now.
First thing first, getting to the witch, starting with Sam calling Castiel, and then he told the angel to stay and guard Dean after explaining Dean’s… unique situation. Castiel had looked puzzled, but Sam did not have the time or the patience to attempt to explain it to Castiel. Sam also never understood how Dean did it.
The witch was at a bar, drinking some frou-frou pink cocktail with an umbrella and grinning happily, looking all too pleased with herself. Sam did not like to hit girls - he didn’t hit girls, actually. Sometimes he killed them and sometimes he killed/hit demons wearing girls, but that was different. Most of them were demons, or vampires, or werewolves. Or just werewolf, singular. But right now he just wanted to smack that smile right off her face.
“Sam Winchester, right?” The witch asked, sounding smug and proud.
“What did you do to my brother?” Sam snarled. The witch smiled harder and wider, happily.
“I decided on Sleeping Beauty, of course. It really is a classic.” The witch grinned evilly, “Just be happy I didn’t whisk him to a tall tower behind a wall of thorns and guarded by a dragon.”
“So you made him sleep. Fine. Reverse it. Cure him.” Sam demanded, and paid the rest no mind.
“I can’t.” She said simply. “His curse must be broken by someone who truly loves him, and who loves him back. In the romantic way and the ‘I want to do you in a supply closet’ way. Which isn’t really love, on second thought.” The witch looked thoughtful. “Mayhap I have to change that clause.”
Okay, really? Who even says ‘mayhap’? Sam bitch-faced at the girl, who couldn’t have been more than twenty five years old, and said, “What happens if we can’t find the person?” He was thinking of Cassie and Lisa again. Wasn’t Cassie Dean’s first love? Sam was pretty sure Cassie was. Where did Cassie live again?
“Well then your brother must have been very lonely!” The witch said, aghast at the sheer thought. “But yeah, if you can’t find the person your brother dies. Newsflash: this isn’t really Disney, Sam. You keep someone sleeping forever and you see how well they fare, hospitals and cryogenics or not.”
Dean dies. Sam gulped. No, no, no, no! This could not happen. Dean cannot die, not now, not with everything that’s happened and everything that will happen. Dean can’t die. He just can’t.
***
Dean was pretty sure he was supposed to be dreaming of rainbows, except he never dreamt of rainbows, except that one time with the hell-rainbow that dripped blood, so. He hated, hated, hated comas. Okay, so he couldn’t remember much from his first coma, but he imagined it would have sucked balls. He couldn’t move anything. He couldn’t move his pinky or his toe or even his freaking eyeballs and what kind of hell was that? He could hear Castiel talking and pacing, the birds outside and the muted voices from the television. Before, he could hear Sam’s talking and pacing and bitching and angsting and then that kiss. That. That was not cool. Dean may be scarred for life now.
Despite the fact that he was basically paralyzed now (sleep paralyzed?), Dean still had all of his senses. Well, most. One couldn’t see with closed lids. But he could feel. Could feel the bed dip as someone sat on it, could feel the wind and the sun and something that was either water or something else. He could feel Sam holding his hand and Cas breathing on him. And, okay, it was really chick flick-y, but Dean felt comforted by it. And he just wanted, more than anything, to comfort his family. He knew that Sam was stressed and Cas was confused and he just wants to make sure they’re alright. But he couldn’t. He was trapped in this dark cave, unable to talk or move or express himself in any way, and it made him want to punch something. Of course, he couldn’t punch anything because he was in a state of paralysis. That made him even more frustrated. Also, Cas was breathing on Dean and it’s doing weird things to him. And it tickled.
It freaking sucked.
“Dean,” Cas said, and if Dean could sigh then he would. He doesn’t want Cas to be sad, and it sounded like he was sad. However, his best friend’s voice was very soothing. “I have read the story. I believe I have the answer.” What answer? Dean had run through possibilities in his head, and frankly he had none that made sense. How will they find anyone willing to this? Unless…
Nah, that wouldn’t happen. It was ridiculous and Dean was an idiot for even thinking of it.
The air shifted. Apparently, Dean wasn’t an idiot for thinking about it because the next thing he knew, Castiel’s chapped lips were on Dean’s, pressing softly, warm and sweet and hey, Dean’s tongue moved!
His eyes snapped open to Castiel’s surprised blue eyes, and then the door opened, then Sam came in.
And promptly dropped everything he was carrying at the sight of his brother and an angel making out.
-End
Warnings: Um, one short sentence describing incest? Oh, and un-betaed.
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Disclaimer: Supernatural is not in a list of things I own.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: You'd think by this time Dean'd figure out the fact that you shouldn't piss off witches, but apparently he forgot and got himself cursed, Sleeping Beauty style. Now, Sam has to find a way to reverse it - or find the person who loves Dean in basically every way. Written for the 'Wild Card' square in my hc_bingo.
Author's Note: This is probably the last hc_bingo prompt I'm going to fill. (Ironically, it's the first one I wrote.) My muse ran away. Also, it turns out that despite how much I love h/c, I can't write it.
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a beautiful princess.
Actually, now, in a place called Friendship, Maine, there lived a handsome man. Well, he stayed there temporarily. It had to be said that the man was not an ass (most of the time), nor was he spectacularly sweet, nor did he have animals trailing after him, nor did he reject an old women shelter in his home. He was not even an only child. In fact, he had a brother named Sam.
You know what he did have? He had a psycho witch who watched too much Disney movies, who spent three hours debating internally on the merits of Sleeping Beauty verses Beauty and the Beast style curses just because the handsome man (whose name was Dean, by the way,) said he did not like witches, which in his opinion was so not fair. Anyway, in her mind, Sleeping Beauty is in a coma for thousands of years, but Beauty and the Beast would remove the pretty from Dean, which is a plus. But every single person was doing Beauty and the Beast nowadays - not as much as Snow White or Cinderella, which were so overused and so horribly done (like that Chad Michael Murray movie) it was actually really sad, but, again, Beauty and the Beast had been used a lot too. The witch had looked around in time and seen around three and a half Beauty and the Beast adaptations, one of which was so atrocious that she had briefly wished she was Lord Voldemort so she can fire the Killing Curse at the producers. So Sleeping Beauty it was.
Dean’s brother did not make a bunch of girls kiss Dean, he simply stayed with Dean. He held Dean’s hand and once, just once, he kissed Dean on the mouth like he’s Prince Phillip. That was uncomfortable and Dean did not wake up, to Sam’s relief, and he vowed not to ever even think of it ever again. Ever. But he did not know what to do - six billion people on the planet, how the hell would Sam know who Dean’s one true love was? Briefly, he considered Lisa, and Cassie, and Anna, and that blonde girl down the street, but he figured that if they were his true love… well, Sam’s pretty sure that the whole true love thing is bullshit. Also, he had no idea how to contact Cassie or Anna. But the witch didn’t elaborate on, well, anything. So maybe it had to be a true love’s kiss, or a kiss from someone non-related who loved him, or maybe it had to be a prince. Sam really hoped it wasn’t the last one. Where the hell was he supposed to get a freaking prince? England?
But Dean looked so pale and frail just lying there, and it reminded Sam of that car crash, and that was also not a memory he liked to think about. So took one long look at Dean, at his pale, almost translucent, skin and his long lashes and how still he was and decided screw this, he’s researching and saving his brother and then they’re going to take that witch bitch down. The plan had flaws, this Sam was willing to admit, but frankly it was the only thing he had right now.
First thing first, getting to the witch, starting with Sam calling Castiel, and then he told the angel to stay and guard Dean after explaining Dean’s… unique situation. Castiel had looked puzzled, but Sam did not have the time or the patience to attempt to explain it to Castiel. Sam also never understood how Dean did it.
The witch was at a bar, drinking some frou-frou pink cocktail with an umbrella and grinning happily, looking all too pleased with herself. Sam did not like to hit girls - he didn’t hit girls, actually. Sometimes he killed them and sometimes he killed/hit demons wearing girls, but that was different. Most of them were demons, or vampires, or werewolves. Or just werewolf, singular. But right now he just wanted to smack that smile right off her face.
“Sam Winchester, right?” The witch asked, sounding smug and proud.
“What did you do to my brother?” Sam snarled. The witch smiled harder and wider, happily.
“I decided on Sleeping Beauty, of course. It really is a classic.” The witch grinned evilly, “Just be happy I didn’t whisk him to a tall tower behind a wall of thorns and guarded by a dragon.”
“So you made him sleep. Fine. Reverse it. Cure him.” Sam demanded, and paid the rest no mind.
“I can’t.” She said simply. “His curse must be broken by someone who truly loves him, and who loves him back. In the romantic way and the ‘I want to do you in a supply closet’ way. Which isn’t really love, on second thought.” The witch looked thoughtful. “Mayhap I have to change that clause.”
Okay, really? Who even says ‘mayhap’? Sam bitch-faced at the girl, who couldn’t have been more than twenty five years old, and said, “What happens if we can’t find the person?” He was thinking of Cassie and Lisa again. Wasn’t Cassie Dean’s first love? Sam was pretty sure Cassie was. Where did Cassie live again?
“Well then your brother must have been very lonely!” The witch said, aghast at the sheer thought. “But yeah, if you can’t find the person your brother dies. Newsflash: this isn’t really Disney, Sam. You keep someone sleeping forever and you see how well they fare, hospitals and cryogenics or not.”
Dean dies. Sam gulped. No, no, no, no! This could not happen. Dean cannot die, not now, not with everything that’s happened and everything that will happen. Dean can’t die. He just can’t.
***
Dean was pretty sure he was supposed to be dreaming of rainbows, except he never dreamt of rainbows, except that one time with the hell-rainbow that dripped blood, so. He hated, hated, hated comas. Okay, so he couldn’t remember much from his first coma, but he imagined it would have sucked balls. He couldn’t move anything. He couldn’t move his pinky or his toe or even his freaking eyeballs and what kind of hell was that? He could hear Castiel talking and pacing, the birds outside and the muted voices from the television. Before, he could hear Sam’s talking and pacing and bitching and angsting and then that kiss. That. That was not cool. Dean may be scarred for life now.
Despite the fact that he was basically paralyzed now (sleep paralyzed?), Dean still had all of his senses. Well, most. One couldn’t see with closed lids. But he could feel. Could feel the bed dip as someone sat on it, could feel the wind and the sun and something that was either water or something else. He could feel Sam holding his hand and Cas breathing on him. And, okay, it was really chick flick-y, but Dean felt comforted by it. And he just wanted, more than anything, to comfort his family. He knew that Sam was stressed and Cas was confused and he just wants to make sure they’re alright. But he couldn’t. He was trapped in this dark cave, unable to talk or move or express himself in any way, and it made him want to punch something. Of course, he couldn’t punch anything because he was in a state of paralysis. That made him even more frustrated. Also, Cas was breathing on Dean and it’s doing weird things to him. And it tickled.
It freaking sucked.
“Dean,” Cas said, and if Dean could sigh then he would. He doesn’t want Cas to be sad, and it sounded like he was sad. However, his best friend’s voice was very soothing. “I have read the story. I believe I have the answer.” What answer? Dean had run through possibilities in his head, and frankly he had none that made sense. How will they find anyone willing to this? Unless…
Nah, that wouldn’t happen. It was ridiculous and Dean was an idiot for even thinking of it.
The air shifted. Apparently, Dean wasn’t an idiot for thinking about it because the next thing he knew, Castiel’s chapped lips were on Dean’s, pressing softly, warm and sweet and hey, Dean’s tongue moved!
His eyes snapped open to Castiel’s surprised blue eyes, and then the door opened, then Sam came in.
And promptly dropped everything he was carrying at the sight of his brother and an angel making out.
-End