*A/N: I've finally gotten the chance to sit down and finish up a new chapter for y'all! Sorry that there has been such a delay. School has been a whirlwind this semester but I haven't forgot about y'all! I hope you enjoy! (Sorry for any mistakes)
Over the next couple of days, everyone had their hands full with preparations for the upcoming confrontation with the angels. Dean did his best to contribute and help wherever he could, but Lilly Grace demanded most of his attention. He quickly learned that taking care of a newborn was a full-time job. Thankfully, the others were willing to watch after her for a bit so Dean could get some time to himself.
Meanwhile, Lilly Grace spent most of her time slumbering quietly in her bassinet or dozing in the confines of someone's arms. Thankfully, she didn't cry often, but her power naps never lasted for long, always waking up when she needed to be fed or changed –sometimes she needed both. Much to everyone's utter relief, Lilly Grace hadn't made anything else explode or catch on fire yet. It seemed like Castiel had been right when he said that Lilly Grace might actually understand her own strength.
Personally, Dean took this as a good sign. If she could control her powers that meant that he and Cas could keep her from accidentally destroying the world. That meant that Lily Grace might not turn out to be the monster that everyone seemed to think.
Sam, however, was a little less optimistic. He sounded skeptical when Dean voiced his thoughts out loud. Dean could understand where his brother's fear and concern was coming from, but right now he didn't want to think about the alternative. If Lilly Grace actually ended up going postal, they were all in a shitload of trouble.
Dean didn't want to consider what he'd have to do if she lost control and got too dangerous. She was a threat to the entire nation, but Dean wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. This child had Winchester blood running through her veins, so that had to mean something. It did in Dean's mind at least. Dean had to believe that Lilly Grace was good at heart. He just had to believe it. Deep down, Dean knew that even if she ultimately did go dark side, he'd never be strong enough to take her down. If he were completely honest with himself, Dean knew he'd probably take down anyone who tried to hurt her, regardless of who it was. Lilly Grace was his responsibility now. He had helped bring her into this world, and he'd be damned if he let anyone lay a finger on her. Right now, all Dean could do was stay focused on the present. His daughter was here, happy, healthy, and alive.
In the meantime, the rest of their plans seemed to be coming together like a charm. The details were a little hazy, but everything was working out better than they dared to hope. It was going to be messy and dangerous, but Sam's little plan at least gave them a fighting chance. Frankly, they still might lose, but at least this way they weren't just rolling over to die.
Everything was set to go down on a Friday, two days from now. There wasn't much time to prepare, but Gabriel guessed that if they didn't attack soon, heaven's wrath would beat them to the punch. Until then, everyone was doing their best to stay beneath the radar. If their plans worked out, they might actually get a jump on the angel's which is what they desperately needed. Once they finalized their preparations, the plan was to go all in, guns blazing. One way or another, this fight was going to end, either with their deaths or the retreat of heaven's troops. They were all hoping for the latter.
In Dean's opinion, Sam's plan was pretty good, but there was just one thing he wanted to get settled before they attacked. "I want to be back in my own body," Dean stated adamantly as he stepped into the kitchen to join Cas, Sam, and Gabriel. "I don't care if you think I'm not strong enough yet or should wait until after the confrontation, I want to be me again."
Dean had just woken up, that those thoughts had been at the forefront of his mind. His dreams had been dark, and daunting despite sleeping in the warm, strong arms of Castiel. As he slept, nightmares plague his dreams, visions of himself lost in vast, empty void, all alone and trapped inside a body that didn't belong to him. When Dean woke, he was jittery and on edge, the dream bothering him more than he cared to admit. Right then and there, Dean had decided that he needed to be back in his own body before they faced the angels on Friday.
"Are you sure you'll be ready Dean?" Sam asked. He held a cup of coffee in his hand as he looked at Dean with concern. "What if the change back alters your ability to fight? Wouldn't it be better to stay in this body since you're used to it now?" It might affect your fighting skills and make things harder on you."
Dean shakes his head in denial. "Can't do that Sammy," he stated with finality. "When I face those winged bastard I want to them to see me, not this fuckin' imitation of who I am."
"Dude, when angel's look at you, they see your soul, not your face," Sam protested. "It's not like they're going to think of you any different because you in this body instead."
"Yeah, they will Sam," Dean retorted. "This body is what bought Lilly Grace into the world. If I hadn't gotten stuck like this, she wouldn't be here."
"Are you really this concerned about what they're going to think of you?" Sam asked with a bitter scoff. "You'd be willing to risk making yourself weaker just so you can what? Prove yourself? Make them forget that being a girl is what started this?"
Dean bawled his hands into fists and glared at his brother. Sam just wasn't getting it, and Dean was reaching his last nerve with his brother. "Listen," Dean snapped, "There is a pretty damn good possibility that we're all gonna end up six feet under after this little stunt. When I die, I wanna be in my own fuckin' body, even if it's only for a few days."
The silence in the room was almost palpable when Dean finished talking. Sam had dropped his eyes and was now looking at the floor. No one said a word as what Dean said began to sink in. Dean hated being stuck in this body, and he sure as hell didn't want this body to be the one he was buried in. The others couldn't possibly understand how hard something like this was to get used to. Dean never wanted to be stuck in someone else's body, and he doubted that he could ever fully adjust to the change.
As an afterthought, Dean attempted to lighten the mood in the room by adding, "And I mean come on Sammy, S'not like I forget how to fight in my own body. If I could adjust to puberty induced growths spurts, I'm sure I'll be fine once I'm tossed back into my own skin."
Sam still kept his eyes downcast, looking less than convinced, but he didn't say anything else. His brows were furrowed with uncertainty and concern. Dean could practically hear the gears working in Sam's head, trying to come up with a better alternative
Then, Castiel spoke up from his seat beside Sam. "I have to agree with Dean on this one, Sam," Cas said with a grim set to his lip, shoulders tense and distressed.
In unison, both Sam and Dean exclaimed, "You do?" Sam had finally looked up, glancing first at Castiel, then over to Dean. In a split second, a silent conversation passed between them, wondering what could possibly be going through Castiel's infinite mind.
"Yes, I do," Castiel confirmed. "I truly believe that he will fight better once his vessel is returned to its proper state. Not only will he be back in his own skin, but it will also boost his moral and make him more optimistic."
"Hey," Dean interjected. "I'm right here ya know. I don't need someone to psychoanalyze me."
Cas merely shot Dean an unamused look and continued to talk. "I'm sure we are all ready to put this mess behind us, and this is the first step towards resolving things. There will be risks, but we will make do."
"Yeah, but what something goes wrong when we change him back," Sam protested with a huff.
"That's just a risk we have to take," Cas replied. He wasn't looking at any of them, his eyes trained on a spot just over Sam's shoulder.
"Are the witch girls even still willing to cure Dean?" Sam asked with skepticism.
"Well, if they ever want to get out of the little prison I locked them in they will," Gabriel interjected, waggling his eyebrows at Sam.
"I am so fucking ready to have my own body back," Dean groaned. "I fuckin' miss my dick, man."
"Is that the only thing you miss about being a guy," Sam asked, a smirk starting to creep onto his lips as he shook his head incredulously.
"No, "Dean retorted crossing his arms in defense. "I miss everything about being a guy, like my short hair, and my height and –Stop laughing you fucking ass."
Sam's head was thrown back, lips curved up in amusement as laughter bubbled from his lips. "You're such a dumbass Dean," he snickers.
"You're a dumbass... dumbass..." Dean retorted lamely. He knew his comeback fell flat so he puffed his lower lip out in a slight pout, huffing loudly just so Sam knew how irritating he was. Despite himself, Dean was glad to see a smile on Sam's face. Smiles and laughter had become a rarity in recent weeks, and it was nice to see Sam smiling again –even if it was at his expense.
Sam snorted and rolled his eyes in amusement, the smile on his lips becoming more playful. "Ah Dean, aren't you just the master of witty comebacks."
"Wasn't asking you, bitch," Dean retorted, narrowing his eyes slightly and pursing his lips.
"You didn't have to, jerk," Sam shot back. "My commentary is free."
"Yeah, whatever," Dean hummed through pursed lips. "The point is I'm ready to be back in my own skin."
"Don't worry, Dean," Castiel murmured, standing up now and pulling Dean into a comforting hug. Dean lay his head against Castiel's shoulder and closed his eyes, relishing the touch and thankful that Castiel was there for him.
When Castiel pulled away from the hug, Dean looked towards Sam and asked, "Have you guys thought about what we're going to do with the girls after they... y'know, fix me up?" Dean watched as dark cloud settled over Sam's face as he spoke. "We're not going to let them live... right?"
Sam opened his mouth but shut it again very quickly. His diverted his attention down to his hands which were clasped together and resting atop the hard, wooden surface of the table. Sam's long, dark hair fell to curtain around his face.
Dean kept his eyes trained on Sam as he hid behind his overlong hair. He could tell without even seeing Sam's face that he was wearing his dark, brooding look that made him look like a sullen, angsty teenager.
"No, we're not. We cannot let the girls live," Castiel said, his voice flat and assured.
"I'd feel bad for killing them after all this," Sam mumbled, moving his hands off the table to rub awkwardly against the sides of his jeans. "I mean, they're young, stupid college kids and we kind of took them away from their school and their families."
Dean shook his head in disbelief; Sam always had to be the softie of the bunch. "They've killed people, Sammy," Dean rationalized. "A bunch of girls on that campus are dead because of those witches. Remember, the hunter's kid, Amy, her girlfriend was one of the victims. These so-called 'innocent' teenagers have taken human lives."
"I know, I know," Sam said with a nod. "It's just hard 'cause they are still young."
"Evil doesn't have a minimum age requirement, Sammy. You need to stop thinking of them as humans and start seeing them for the monsters they actually are," Dean said with a click of his tongue. "These girls are already past saving. They were willing to kill their classmates just to gain entry into a coven of witches," Dean rationalized. "I may not have been college boy like you, but I'm pretty damn sure that murder is a bit extreme, even for a sorority hazing."
Sam let out a small puff of air, his brow furrowing and the lines on his face deepening in frustration. "They could be useful to us. These girls might know more about Nephilims," Sam said. He was trying to justify his argument, glancing up at Dean as he spoke. "Remember how they reacted when they found out about her. Those girls were terrified, so what if they have more information that could help us?"
"I dunno Sammich, I hate to knock your ideas here, but that sounds like too much of a risk," Gabriel pipped up. "The only reason they agreed to help us is 'cause we told them we'd let them go after Dean was changed back. Plus, they already helped keep Lilly Grace from killing Dean when she was born. I think if we try to push for more, they'll just shut down altogether."
"Well actually Gabriel, I think Sam might be onto something with this," Cas murmured in a deep, pondering voice. He cocked his head to the side and seemed to be concocting some extravagant plan. "Although I am not fond of why Sam is trying to justify his ideas, he does bring up a good point."
"Whose side are you on here, Cas?" Dean huffed, shooting Castiel an exasperated look.
"It's not about picking sides," Cas insisted, irritation evident on his expression. "This is about having as much information as possible. Like I said, I'm not in favor of keeping those girls alive either, but if they can give us more information about our daughter, I'd be more inclined to keep them around for a while longer. I'm surprised that you don't see the benefits here. "
"Oh I can see the benefits," Dean retorted. He crossed his arms stubbornly and added, "Stop trying to guilt me into shit, Cas. That's pretty fucked up, even for you. I'm sorry that I'm more of a shoot first, ask questions later kinda guy."
"That doesn't always have to be the answer, Dean. You know that's true," Sam insisted. "Gabriel, back me up here."
Gabriel pursed his lips and shook his head, giving Sam an apologetic look as he said, "Nah, sorry Samsquatch, I'm still with Dean on this."
"Thank you," Dean huffed, throwing his arms up in relief.
"I don't see this going the way you are hoping it will. They won't tell us anything. Those girls don't have anything else left to lose at this point." Gabriel explained. "If we try to pry more information out of them, they're probably going to throw us a big ol' fuck you."
Sam sighed in exasperation, his lips pursed with frustration. "Okay fine, how about this. Let's get Dean's curse reversed first. Then, we should at least try to see if they'll tell us anything." Sam paused, letting this new idea hang in the air for a moment. With a sigh, Sam then added, "After that, if they refuse to talk, then we'll kill 'em."
Dean's considered the suggestion, casting his eyes upwards as he weighed the options. "And if they do talk?" Dean pressed, wanted to fully understand what his brother was thinking before agreeing.
"We'll keep'em around until they've told us everything they know." Judging by the set of Sam's jaw Dean was sure that his brother would rather not kill the girls at all, but they needed to find a middle ground somewhere. At least Sam was acknowledging the fact that there were innocent students dead because of the curses these girls had been performing. It didn't matter that the coven leaders had been initiating it; the girls had still been the ones to carry out these horrendous deeds.
"Alright fine," Dean relented. "They'll live, for now."
~~~
An hour later, Dean stood nervously in the living room, his old, oversized clothing hanging off of his body like rags. Dean tugged at his worn, familiar Zeppelin shirt; it almost looked like a dress on him now.
When Dean had stated that he wanted to be changed back, he didn't realize that it was going to happen today. Dean was more than ready to be back in his own body, but the process itself still left Dean a little unnerved. There was no telling what would happen today or if the reversal spell would even work.
After they decided not to immediately kill the girls after the curse was reversed, Gabriel had gone off to get the girls prepared. Meanwhile, Sam had told Dean to go change his outfit. Dean was thankful that Sam had said something because otherwise, he would have had a pretty rude awakening when he was changed back. Otherwise, he would have been stuck in too small clothing or rip just rip through clothing altogether when he returned to his normal body.
"Are you ready?" Sam asked, watched Dean as he fidgeted in his oversized outfit.
"I was born ready," Dean replied, shooting Sam a cocky smile. He tried to sound more confident than he felt, but Dean knew that Sam could see right through him. Dean averted his eyes and instead looked towards the three witch girls. They didn't seem too pleased to see him, but Dean was just thankful that they were still willing to try and turn him back.
"Alright then, let's get started then," Sam said with a nod.
With that, Dean took a step closer to his brother and hugged him tightly, his arms wrapping around Sam's back to keep him close. Sam buried his face in Dean's hair and squeezed him back, both of them unwilling to let go.
Eventually, Sam clapped Dean on the back, and they pulled apart, locking eyes briefly before Dean turned and moved towards Cas. Dean's expression softened as he looked at his faithful partner, their daughter cradled in Castiel's arms.
Dean leaned in close and pressed a warm, lingering kiss on Castiel's chapped lips. Cas kissed back slowly, moving his free hand cup the side of Dean's face. Without seeing Castiel's expression, Dean knew that he was worried. Dean rubbed comfortingly at Castiel's shoulder when they broke apart; trying to assure Cas that everything would be fine.
"It's just one spell Cas," Dean whispered low and gentle. "It will all work out, and then we can focus on getting the rest of our shit sorted out."
Cas tried to smile at Dean, but it was halfhearted and didn't quite reach his eyes. He nodded in acknowledgment but didn't say anything in response. It didn't seem like Cas knew what he could say.
Then, Dean bent his head and leaned down to kiss the top of his daughters head. "I love you, sweetheart," Dean whispered, his warm breath blowing across her thin, wispy blonde hair.
As he leaned back, his daughter's brilliant blue eyes followed him, watching with wonderment and curiosity. Dean knew that she had no idea what was going on and was glad for her nativity because that kind of bliss and ignorance wouldn't last forever. He ran his index finger down the side of her cheek softly before turning away.
As he backed away, Dean nodded in Gabriel's direction; they weren't exactly close enough to exchange meaningful hugs, so a gesture of acknowledgment was enough. In response, Gabriel gave a tightlipped smile and a curt nod back.
Finally, he stepped in front of the three witch girls. They looked incredibly bored and unconcerned with the exchange. However, Dean did note that the girls were standing as far away from Cas and his daughter as they possibly could. It seemed like Sam was right about one thing: These girls knew more about Nephilim than they were letting on. Although they seemed to be nonchalant and uncaring, Dean could tell by their tense postures that the girls were scared shitless of Lilly Grace.
"You done now?" one of them grumbled when Dean locked eyes with her.
"Yeah, I'm done," Dean shot back, his tone equally as rude as the girls. "So let's get on with it then since we seem to be an inconvenience to you.
The girl threw her arms up and shook her head at his as if to say 'well, by all means, let's hurry this shit up.'
Dean rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. "What do you need me to do?" he asked.
"Just stand in front of us and try to stay still," a second girl said, waving her hand dismissively in Dean's direction.
"Okay then," Dean muttered quietly. He tried to straighten out his posture and prepare himself for what was to come. Dean glanced once more towards Castiel, trying to flash him a happy, upbeat smile. The returned smile was small at sad which made Dean's heart flip-flop in his chest. Dean wished that there was more he could do to comfort Cas.
Dean forced himself to look away and keep his eyes locked straight ahead. His stomach felt like oy had been filled with thousands of bees as his heart rate began to pick up the pace. Dean really hoped that this curse really could be broken. If these witch girls failed –which was still a possibility– they would all be sent back to step one. Dean had no idea what they'd do if this option failed. These girls were quite possibly Dean's last chance of breaking this awful curse. One damn witch coven and their fucking magic tricks were what had started all of this and Dean was beyond ready to close this chapter of the story. There were still plenty of issues in need of a resolution, but once he was back in his original body, there would be one less thing for him to worry about. Once this was done, they could focus on what was really important: protecting their family and getting heavens goons off their ass.
Dean's heart gave a painful stutter in his chest when the witch girls began the reversal spell. His eyes were locked on them as they chanted, hands placed palm up on a small coffee table. In the middle of the table sat a bowl filled with the necessary ingredients: the femur of a black cat, the fang of a vampire, lavender, and the beak of a dodo bird. Thankfully, Gabriel had been able to scrounge up all the materials that were needed to perform the ritual. Dean had been doubtful about the dodo beak, but Gabriel had assured him that "obtaining one of those is far easier think you'd think, bucko."
As the girls continued their Latin incantation, Gabriel and Sam kept a close eye on them. They were trying their best to interpret the words to ensure that the girls weren't trying to insight another curse upon Dean or devising a masterful plan of escape.
Dean stood motionless, waiting for something, anything to happen. He sighed, loud and impatient, making his frustrations known. However, this only earned him a dark, withering look from one of the girls. Soon, all their voices began to blend into one another. Their chant sounded bland, and monotone and Dean found his thoughts starting to drift.
Dean looked over at Lilly Grace, who was swaddled in a blanket, her electric blue eyes trained steadily on him, expression wide and observant. As soon as their eyes met, stars began to twinkle at the edge of Dean's vision and his body began to feel numb. It was like he was floating outside of his own skin, stuck somewhere between reality and fiction, somewhere between life and death. He felt drowsy and slow, everything that was important seemed to fade to the foreground of his mind. Honestly, Dean felt like he was high off his ass. He let his eyes slip shut and felt himself swaying in place. Although he could no longer see, Dean was still able to vaguely make out the muffled chants of the girls.
All at once, that wave of blissful euphoria was stripped away, and his body was enveloped with pain –something he was coming far too used to these days. Dean grimaced, tensing up as his bones began to ache and his muscles started to burn. He could feel his body stretching and elongating, his muscles thickening and lengthen everywhere as his body morphed and changed. Dean clenched his jaw tight and fought hard to hold back his anguished screams as his bones popped and cracked pushing relentlessly against slowly stretching skin. His entire body was restructuring itself, and Dean could feel every last second of, down to the microscopic changes taking place in his molecules. Changing back into a guy was far worse than changing into a girl had been. His curse seemed to be the punishment that just kept on taking, inflicting pain and despair on the host down to its final breath.
When the tendons in his throat began to burn, Dean doubted that he'd be able to make a sound if he tried. Dean felt like he was going to break apart and shatter into a million unsalvageable pieces, crumbling apart until he was nothing more than a pile of ashes and dust. There was no way he'd make it through this transformation. He really was going to die before he made it back into his own body. That would be yet another way that God said 'fuck you' to the Winchester bloodline.
Just when Dean thought that he couldn't take anymore, his body forced to stretch far past its logical capacity, that's when the pain began to ebb away. His fingers and toes all clicked back into place, joints resettled in their sockets, muscles reattached themselves to bones and his skin no longer felt like it was being sent through a taffy puller.
When the last traces of discomfort finally seeped from his core, Dean shuttered, his eyes pressed tightly shut and his nails digging crescents into the meat of his palms. He was almost expecting more pain to follow suit.
"Dean," Sam whispered, his voice breaking the tense silence. "It worked."
At that, Dean reopened his eyes and looked up in search of Sam and Castiel's faces.
What he saw on Castiel, Sam, and Gabriel's faces when he looked up at was nothing short of pure, unadulterated elation and joy.
Dean blinked in surprise. They had to be pulling his leg, right? Reversing the curse couldn't really have been that simple, could it? Honestly, a little pain was nothing compared to some of the shit they've gone through over the years. However, when Dean looked down at himself, he realized that Sam really wasn't bluffing. His old clothing, which had been loose and baggy just minutes before, now fit like a glove, comfortable and familiar against his freckled skin.
In wonderment, Dean lifted his hands to his chest; he needed physical assurance to be sure that he didn't have breasts anymore. Dean was both relieved and a little sad to find that he was once again flat chested. "Man, I think I might actually miss these," Dean pouted, still clutching his chest as his voice came out deep and gruff rather than the high pitched feminine voice he had become so used to.
A huge smile split across Dean's face as his hand slid up to press against his throat. "I had almost forgotten what I sounded like," Dean exclaimed with a bubbling laugh. "Damn it's nice to be me again."
The others all seemed to be as relieved as Dean was, their faces light up with blinding smiles as Dean laughed.
"Oh! I almost forgot," Dean added, his eyes going wide. He let his hand drop from his throat down to his crotch. As he cupped himself, Dean wanted to cry with relief. Little Dean, was back. "Ha, I am back in business baby!" Dean crowed proudly, his head thrown back as he shouted to the heavens. He clutched his crotch once more just to make sure that this was actually real and not just some cruel, twisted joke. When he was sure everything was where it was supposed to be Dean sighed happily, "It had been too fucking long."
"Okay, Dean, now you're just playing with yourself," Gabriel teased. "There will be plenty of time for that type of behavior later on.
"Oh fuck you," Dean shot back, no real heat in his words. He was far too high spirited to be angry. Right now, there was nothing that could bring him down from his high. Yeah, there was still a lot more shit they still had to deal with down the road, but this was the kind of victory that they needed. Finally, they were moving in the right direction.
"Eh, that's Sam's job," Gabriel quipped with a cocky grin.
"Hey," Sam interjected, slapping Gabriel in the arm and casting him a darkened look. "There are small children present." Sam gestured towards Lilly Grace, causing both Dean and Gabriel to roll their eyes.
"She's not even a week old, Sammich," Gabriel said. "I'm pretty sure she doesn't understand what we're saying right now."
"She might," Sam said with a shrug. "You've said that Nephilim children are special."
"It's good to have you back," Cas said, speaking softer and stepping closer to Dean so Gabriel and Sam could continue their lover's quarrel.
"It's good to be back," Dean murmured, momentarily forgetting that he had to look down at Cas now rather than look up at him. It was really nice to be back to his normal height again.
They stood close, practically nose to nose. Cas was scanning his features, reacclimating himself with Dean's face. Dean closed the distance between them, pressing his forehead against Castiel's and gazing into his endless blue eyes.
"You still like me when I'm not a girl anymore?" Dean asked. He tried to make it sound like a joke, but it came off as more concerned and insecure.
"Oh Dean," Castiel hummed, his face soft and reassuring as he spoke. "Of course I do. I've already assured you that I would always love you, regardless of what gender you are or what body you're in. It's not what's on the outside that matters to me; it's what's on the inside."
Dean felt his cheeks flush and he ducked his head to hide his embarrassment.
"Love you too, Cas," Dean whispered.
Between them, Lilly Grace began to stir, gurgling and cooing to get their attention.
Dean looked down at her and smiled softly. "You still know who I am?" Dean asked leaning down a little, knowing that she wouldn't respond. "I'm still you're daddy, but now I actually look like a dad."
Lilly Grace kept her eyes trained on Dean, cocking her head to the side a little as he spoke. It was the same adorable little quirk that Castiel did when he tried to understand some foreign concept.
Suddenly, Dean began to feel dizzy, his vision started to become fuzzy, and everything sounded muffled. It seemed as if someone had placed a veil over his eyes and stuffed cotton in his ears. Dean tried to say something, wanted to warn the other's that something was wrong, but his body felt like it was moving through molasses. He felt heavy and slow, far different than the feeling of being high he had experienced earlier.
Dean took a few stumbling steps backward, trying to distance himself from Cas and the others without really understanding why. Through the muffled sounds around him, Dean could sense a disturbance in the air, echoing voices began to take up a panicked chatter that hurt his head. That was quickly followed by a burning sensation that started in the very tips of his toes. The fire licked up his legs, starting to become painful the further upwards it traveled. Unless the reversal spell had some sort of lingering effects, something was very wrong. His voice felt like it was stuck in his throat as he tried once again to cry out to the others. Whatever was going on, someone needed to stop it. Deep in the pit of his stomach, Dean could tell whatever was happening to him, had malicious intent. In silence, he could feel himself burning from the inside out. It was like his body had been sent back to hell once again. He could feel bits of himself dying and melting away.
Then he began putting together the pieces of the puzzle. The witch girls had to be the ones who were behind this. After he had been changed back to normal, everyone had forgotten about the girls. There had been plenty of time for them to secretly plot something against them and catch them off guard. Distractions were incredibly dangerous in their line of work, and this was a prime example of why they were so dangerous.
Dean struggled to fight off the curse that held him bound, though he knew his efforts were fruitless. His body trembled and quaked as the girls continued their incantation. It seemed like controlling his own body had become an impossible feat. Every inhale was harsh and labored, his body starting to shut down and deteriorate beneath the curse. After what seemed like ages, Dean finally forced his hands to curl into balled up fists. His nails dug into the flesh of his palms hard enough to break the skin. Hot, slick blood flowed from the wounds and dripped onto the ground below. Then, Dean felt a fireball of energy building in his chest. His vision was obscured by a haze of red, and he felt a pulse of energy bubble in his throat. With a feral, animalistic roar, Dean screamed sending waves of power exploding from his body and pulsing outwards at an alarming rate.
When his screaming finally ended, the room around him was still as death. Nothing and no one made a sound and Dean wondered if he had died again. The red haze that had covered his eyes was fading away into black, the still eeriness was powerful enough to make Dean's heart race with panic.
The silence ended abruptly, broken by some unseen force as sound boomed around Dean and assaulted his ears. Dean clapped his hands over his ears and fell to his knees as his eardrums felt about to rupture. On his knees, Dean hung his head low, curling into himself as his head pounded with the sound of blood rushing in his ears.
Something large and bulky landed beside Dean and made him jump with surprise. Then, that something was grasping at his shoulder and shouting words that Dean couldn't understand. All around him was the sounds of screaming, high pitched, shrill sounds filling the air.
Above everything else, Dean could hear the clear, distinct sound of his daughter wailing, her cries of distress were the only thing that he was able to focus on. Dean felt like he was being plunged into insanity, his head on the brink of explosion. If something didn't change soon, Dean was going to lose his shit. Everything was too loud, too sudden, too painfully confusing.
Dean was shaking down to his core as red began to build back up behind his eyes. His hands still clasped over his ears, Dean's nails dug into the side of his face, tearing out hair and causing blood to well up and spill from the wounds. He couldn't take this anymore.
With the last of his strength, Dean was yelling again. "Stop," he roared, sensing an ancient, foreign power behind his words. "Just be quiet, shut the fuck up."
No sooner than the words fell from Dean's tongue, the sound in the room ceased, not becoming entirely quiet, but it had at least dropped to a tolerable level. Thankfully, the screaming had finally stopped, and his daughter's cries were no more.
Dean's head still ached, throbbing painfully, his lips dry and cracked, a bitter coppery tang lingering on his tongue. His breaths were wet and uneven, his throat seizing as he coughed hard into his hand, trying to rid himself of the unpleasant feeling. Crimson blood splattered into his palm as he coughed, the coppery tang now coating his lips too.
"Fuck," Sam swore beside him. He must have been the person who stumbled down beside him and tried talking to him. "Dean, are you okay?" Sam asked. His voice sounded gruff and strained, barely concealing the note of panic that was trying to seep through.
"What happened?" Dean croaked. He pointedly ignored Sam's question and peered up at him through long lashes, eyes searching for the comfort of his brother's hazel eyes.
"Honestly, I don't know yet," Sam confessed, clutching Dean's shoulder tight as he glanced around the room. Dust was settling around them like falling snow, and the furniture in the living room had been thrown haphazardly against walls and through shattered windows. It looked like a bomb had gone off in here.
On the ground in front of them, were three bodies, crumpled and broken, completely motionless. Dean's heart was pounding in his chest, squinting through the haze in the room as he tried to identify the bodies from a distance. He clenched his jaw tight, and he tried to stand, using Sam's shoulder as a sturdy surface to push off of. Sam hissed in pain as Dean's fingers dug into the muscle, but Dean barely registered his brother's discomfort. He had to make sure that those bodies didn't belong to–
Before Dean fully righted himself, he collapsed again, his legs weak and jelly-like, unable to support his weight. A wave of dizziness washed over Dean and made his stomach churn sickeningly. Everything around him faded to white as all the blood rushed from his head, causing him to stumble. Sam tried to catch Dean as he fell, attempting to slow the fall before he made contact with the unforgiving floor.
"Fuck," Dean swore as the breath was knocked from his lungs.
Beside him, Sam began to call, "Cas, Gabe, where are you?"
Sam was reaching out for Dean, his hands curling in the torn cotton of his shirt. In return, Dean clutched at Sam's arm, the skin-to-skin contact reminding Dean that this was real. Everything seemed to be drifting in and out of focus, but Sam was the one constant that he could rely on.
When there was no answering call, the boys exchanged looks, fear marring their grime-stained faces. Dean glanced back towards the three motionless bodies and began shouting too. "Get your feathered asses over here guys, this isn't fuckin' funny," Dean shouted, trying to suppress the hitch in his voice.
Then, just off to their right, there was a flash of light, glimmering and flickering in and out of sight. It resembled the jumping, shimmering lights emitted by ghosts and spirits when they phased between tangibility and intangibility. The light flickered half a dozen more time, Sam and Dean both just staring at it, transfixed before it began to grow brighter. Eventually, they both had to look away as the light grew too bright for their eyes to stand. When it faded, Cas and Gabriel were standing in its wake, Lilly Grace held protectively in Castiel's arms.
"Sam, Dean, are you hurt?" Cas asked the moment he spotted the boys huddled together on the ground.
"We're alive at least," Sam huffed, all amusement void from his tone. Then, he shot a concerned look towards Dean and added, "I'm not so sure that Dean is doing too well though. When the smoke started to clear, he had a nose bleed and started to cough up blood."
Dean lifted a hand to his face and touched just beneath his nose. When he pulled away, Dean was surprised to find his fingers stained red, fresh blood glinting in the dim light of the room. Weird... he hadn't even known his nose was bleeding. Normally he could feel something as uncomfortable as a nosebleed.
While Dean stared at his hand, Castiel handed Lilly Grace over to Gabriel, before rushing to Dean's side. Cas fell to his knees beside Dean and pressed his cold fingers against Dean's overheated skin so he could try and get a read on Dean's physical condition.
"What the hell happened?" Dean asked again. Surely someone knew what was going on. "What was that and who was screaming?"
Dean watched Castiel grimace, his face contorting in displeasure as he narrowed his eyes.
"That screaming," Cas began, his voice grim and cold, "Was the witch girls as their eyes were burned from their skulls."
Dean whipped his head back towards the bodies on the floor. His vision blurred at the abrupt movement and made him want to puke. Now that the dust was beginning to settle, Dean could make out one of the girls sneakered feet extending towards him. As he looked further up her body, he saw that her palms were burned and bloody from where she had clutched at her eyes. Her face was distorted and warped, more blood staining the once pearly white skin. Long dark locks of hair hung in her face, clinging to the sticky blood and pooling onto the ground around her. It was truly a gruesome sight.
"As for what happened," Cas continued, pulling Dean's attention away from the girls, "That is a little more complicated."