[Fic] Just like a Woman - Chapter 2
A round of salt, holy water and any incantation Bobby could think of - not to mention a few stories that neither Sam nor Bobby really wanted aired - later, and Dean was untied. The other men finally convinced that as strange as it may seem, this really was Dean.
“Who'd you piss off this time?”
“That's going to be a really long list Bobby.”
Dean glared at his brother, “not exactly helping, Sam.”
“I know it's hard, Dean,”
“Hard. Hard!” Dean interrupted Sam, “You try waking up one morning to discover you're now a woman and see how you handle it.” Pushing past his brother roughly Dean headed straight for the kitchen, pouring himself a large measure of whiskey before downing it in one and pouring another.
Drinking himself into oblivion at nine in the morning probably wasn't the best idea, and he could tell that Bobby and Sam where exchanging worried looks behind him, but he figured getting drunk was the least of his worries right now.
“Have you called Cas? Maybe he'll be able to figure out how this happened.”
Dean necked his third glass of whiskey before sliding a hand into his pocket to retrieve his phone, his fingers hesitating over the keys. Truth was, calling Castiel had been his first thought after he'd calmed down enough for any sort of rational thought that morning. He couldn't bring himself to do it though. He didn't want to have to face Castiel like this, didn't want to face the reality of the situation. But Sam was right, if anyone could figure out this messed up shit, it would be the angel. Taking a deep breath Dean composed a text message and hit send.
He knew he wouldn't have to wait for a reply.
Within seconds there was the unmistakable shift in the equilibrium of the room and the sound of rustling feathers. Castiel had come when called, just like he always had, just like, Dean hoped, he always would.
“Hey Cas, we've ah, got a bit of a problem.”
Even though it was Sam that had spoken, Dean could feel Castiel’s eyes on him, and he had no doubt that the angel knew exactly who the slender brunette standing at the kitchen counter was.
Dean poured himself another drink with shaking hands, before turning round, willing himself to look Castiel directly in the eyes, to plaster on his best smile, and make it seem that, despite this fucked up situation, everything was hunky dory.
Well he managed to look him in the eyes at least. “Surprise.”
Castiel tilted his head to the side, his eyes never leaving Dean's. His face was unreadable as he slowly made his way towards him, making Dean’s heart pound in his chest.
They were inches apart when Castiel finally spoke, “You're inebriated.”
Dean let out a small laugh, and smiled despite himself, “I've got PMS, thought the alcohol would take the edge off.”
“This is most unusual.” Castiel studied Dean, making the hunter feel naked and exposed with the angel’s deep blue eyes taking in every little detail.
Dean gulped down the remainder of his drink, Castiel's closeness and his unflinching focus making his palms sweaty. “Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special, Cas.”
Ignoring Dean's comment Castiel reached a hand out, not hesitating in the slightest when Dean flinched away from the contact. His fingers gently pushing up the sleeve of Dean's t-shirt to reveal the hand print that still lay burnt into the flesh beneath.
Dean could feel his skin tingle under Castiel's touch, as the angel's hand fitted perfectly over the hand print. He had to bite his lip to stop a small moan from escaping his lips. It was like Castiel's touch was setting his body alight.
Castiel hadn't seemed to notice Dean's reaction, and if he had he didn't show it, “this is a powerful manipulation.”
Dean shot a cocky grin at Castiel, trying to regain some composure. “Witches right? I bet it's witches, damn skanks are drawn to me.”
“It is far more powerful than a witches spell.” A look of worry flashed across Castiel's features, gone just as soon as it appeared, and if Dean hadn't been standing so close to the angel he wouldn't have caught it.
Before Dean could even begin to register what that look might have meant, Castiel had removed his hand from Dean's scarred flesh and disappeared.
“Well, what did he say?” Bobby's gruff voice sliced through the thick air of tension that hung over the kitchen, jolting Dean out of a daze he hadn't been aware he'd been in.
Dean placed the glass down on the counter, the soft clink of glass on wood reverberating through the quiet room.
“We can rule out witches, apart from that he didn't have much to say. Well aside from the fact that this is some seriously powerful mojo.” Dean pushed himself away from the counter, his footfalls unsteady from the alcohol intake, and the curious feeling of walking with legs that aren't quite your own.
“But it can be fixed right? I mean you're not going to be stuck like that forever are you?”
Dean reached Sam, placing an unsteady hand on his shoulder, “What, the idea of having a big sister not appealing to you? Don't worry Sammy, you'll always be the biggest girl in this family.”
“Jerk.” was the only comeback Sam could think of, but he made good use of the fact that Dean now had much longer hair and with one quick ruffle, it looked like Dean had been dragged through a hedge backwards.
“Bitch.”
Bobby rolled his eyes, “will you two idjits cut it out for a second. Dean, did that angel of yours say anything else before he zapped out of here?”
Dean had to bite his tongue from mentioning that Castiel wasn't his angel and that he didn't zap anywhere, but he was pretty sure that wouldn't do much to improve Bobby's mood.
“No, he didn't say anything else.” Dean pulled a chair out from under the table and slumped down in it. His new body feeling incredibly small and wrong as he tried to relax on the hard furniture. “He looked worried though, really worried.”
“He'll come through with something, whoever did this we'll find them and we'll get this fixed.” Sam shot a smile at Dean, it didn't do much to comfort him though.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
Sam and Bobby had hit the books after Castiel had left, not that Dean thought it would do them any good, if Castiel was right, which he had the unfortunate knack of being, and this was much more powerful than anything your standard witch could do, then it was pretty unlikely that they'd find any answers in any of the books Bobby had.
Dean had excused himself as soon as the books had come out, he wasn't one for research at the best of times, and being comfortably drunk and mojo'd up the wazoo, really wasn't going to help.
He made his way upstairs and into the bathroom, locking the door and stripping off before stepping into the shower, taking the full force of the cold water before the boiler kicked in and warm water washed over him. His hands trembled as he lathered soap over his newly feminine form. He cupped his hands over his breasts curiously, they were small, but ample enough, and if they'd been on anyone but him, he'd be paying them a hell of a lot of attention. As it was, they were just strange, albeit nice looking, and really fucking wrong.
His hands moved down from his breasts, ghosting over a taught stomach, hesitating slightly as he reached the bushy mound between his legs. Dean frowned again at the loss of his tackle; you don't mess with a man's junk. Seriously who does that?
Dean smacked his hand against the cold hard tiles of the shower wall, cracking a couple of the tiles as he did so, his blood mixing with the water cascading down into the drain.
He couldn't do this.
Shutting off the shower he stepped out of the cubicle, grabbing the nearest towel and wrapping it tightly around his body. His hair dripped water down his back, soaking the towel to the point of uselessness. Dean couldn't bring himself to care though.
“You're hurt.”
Castiel's presence in the small room didn't startle Dean, he'd long gotten used to the angel just appearing, invading his personal space.
“You've really got a knack of stating the obvious Cas, anyone ever tell you that?”
Castiel ignored Dean's comment, retrieving the first aid kit from the bathroom cabinet, before taking Dean's injured hand carefully.
“Your current predicament comes courtesy of angelic interference. How they got to you, and who they are, I do not yet know.” Castiel cleaned up the gashes on Dean's hand carefully and methodically, his actions as smooth and calm as his words.
Dean just stood and listened, letting Castiel tend to his injuries. His meticulous actions showing a gentle softness that Dean had never seen from him before.
“You should take more care of yourself.” Castiel's gravelled voice jolted Dean out of a daze he hadn't been aware he was in, sending a shiver down his spine.
“It's just a graze, and besides, those tiles deserved it.”
Castiel finished patching up Dean's hand and gave him a sidelong glance, “and yet I cannot discern who came out of the fight worse off. You should think about your battles more thoroughly before picking them.”
“Cas, did you just crack a joke?” Dean beamed widely, his face lighting up in a smile.
The corners of Castiel's mouth twitched, but he schooled his features quickly, “You must have imagined it.”
“Don't worry it'll be our little secret.” Dean winked and moved past Castiel, making his way back into Bobby's spare bedroom, the angel following close behind.
“So any clue as to why the higher ups want me female? Does Michael have a kink or something?”
“Angels are genderless, though some angels do have preferences for what gender they inhabit when they choose a vessel. Michael, however has never dictated a preference, he doesn't really have a choice in the matter.”
“But if he did have a choice?” Dean asked as he searched out something clean to wear.
Castiel leaned against the dresser, his head tilting upward as he contemplated Dean's question, “I do not believe that your current predicament has anything to do with Michael.”
“What makes you so sure?” Dean asked, dropping his towel, a small part of him just not caring that he was naked in front of Castiel, after all it wasn't really his body, and a huge part of him was curious to see how Castiel would react.
Castiel, to his credit, averted his eyes, a pinkish blush tinting his cheeks. Dean filed that little nugget of information under ‘things that make Castiel uncomfortable’.
“A stunt like this has no benefit to Michael or Heaven's cause. It may be,” Castiel paused, his eyes looking anywhere but Dean, “uncomfortable, for you, but it...”
“Isn't exactly going to make me want to jump through any of their hoops, no matter how pissed off with this situation I am.” Dean finished for Castiel as he started getting dressed.
“Yes,” Castiel replied, finally feeling able to look in Dean's direction now he was at least partially clothed.
“So we've run into a brick wall?” Dean sat down on the bed pulling on a pair of socks.
“If by that you mean we've hit an impasse, then no. There are other avenues to explore, rogue elements that could be behind this.”
“I thought you were the only rogue element out there?”
Castiel's demeanour stiffened at Dean's words, and he moved away from the dresser making his way over to the window looking out over the salvage yard, watching the suns rays bouncing off the piles of twisted metal and towers of wrecks.
“Sorry Cas, you know what I mean.” Dean ran a hand through his hair, way to be insensitive, idiot!
“I rebelled against heaven, I no longer take their orders.” Castiel turned to face Dean, “these rogue elements are still under heavens orders, they just prefer to do things their own way, as much as they can without facing heavens wrath.”
“Let me guess, these rogue angels don't exactly go about advertising what they're up to?”
“Unfortunately not. That doesn't mean we won't be able to find out who is behind this, though it may take me a little while.”
Dean let out a huff of air, and stood up from the bed, holding his jeans in place, “guess I should get used to being a chick then.”
“Dean,” Castiel moved towards him, crowding his personal space yet again, “we will find out who they are, and we will fix this.” As Castiel spoke he looked Dean straight in the eyes, and Dean didn't doubt for a second that they wouldn't.
Chapter 3