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Title: Cinderella Never Had Days Like This
Category: Gen
Rating: PG (Language)
Fandom: SPN
By:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Spoilers: None
Words: 2,029
Disclaimer: Written for entertainment purposes only. No money, no sue.
Notes: Fortabaqui. Further notes at the bottom
"Cool."
Sam raises an eyebrow at his brother and then looks back at the scene before him. It's unbelievable and yes, pretty cool but Dean's already going to be crowing for days and he doesn't need the extra fodder.
"I know you hate witches, but this was a little overkill wasn't it?" Sam asks instead.
"Worked didn't it?"
"Yes, Dean it worked."
They had been tracking the same witch for a month who had been cutting a colorful and particularly bloody swathe through the countryside. When they finally caught up with her they tried stabbing, shooting, beheading and setting her on fire and she just cackled through it, flipping them off from her candy porch. They'd fast been running out of ideas when just the night before Dean had disappeared for three hours and had returned with a flat bed truck.
On top of it had been a section of one of those portable houses and okay again, they were cycling back to cool.
"You do realise," Sam says, rubbing his chin and looking at the feet sticking out from under the house thoughtfully. "That since this worked, we probably would have just been able to throw a bucket of water on her." There were stripy socks and sparkly shoes and this was all a little too surreal.
"We dropped a house on a witch," Dean says, waving Sam off with a dismissive flick of the wrist. "No way do the two compare in awesomeness."
"Okay fine," Sam huffs and then points to the witch's house. "We need to remove anything dangerous and get out of here before the glamour lifts and the whole street can see... you know, house made of candy."
"Kill joy," Dean snorts and makes towards the house.
"Hey, and don't touch anything!" Sam calls, or at least he starts to right before he leans down and scoops up the big red book the witch had dropped when they'd flattened her. There's a kawhomp noise and a lot of sparkly dust and Sam's last words are a choked off gasp.
"What was that?" Dean calls from the liquorice front steps.
"N-nothing," Sam calls back and hopes he's right.
oOo
Dean wakes up to birds singing.
This in and of itself isn't that unusual. What's unusual is that he actually kind of recognises the tune and there's also some violin and tinkly piano accompaniment. Dean lies on his back for a moment with his eyes closed and he finally gets it.
Somewhere Over The Rainbow
Dean cracks open one eye and then both. His mouth falls open.
There are honest to god blue birds, the cartoon kind that are actually blue and have rosy cheeks and bright happy eyes, hovering over Sam's bed. They're holding a pair of Sam's boxer shorts delicately between them in tiny claws.
"Um, Sam?" Dean tries and gets nothing but a grunt in return. Dean throws his pillow in the approximate location of Sam's head, hidden under blankets and Sam emerges with a scowl.
"Thought we were sleeping in today," Sam grumbles. "It's barely dawn dude."
"Yeah, I was willing to let you sleep but I don't think they are."
"Huh?" Sam twists his neck and spots the birds above him right before they drop his boxer shorts onto his face. "What the f-f-farmhouse?" Sam gets out and then turns a horrified expression on Dean. "What the h-h-ham and cheese is going on?"
Dean feels like he's going to burst a blood vessel he's laughing so hard. Sam's wadded-up boxers hit Dean in the face and he makes a strangled noise of protest. "How should I know?"
"Whatever you did," Sam says slowly, watching as the blue birds make their way over to his duffle where a bunny, not a rabbit but a bunny, helpfully holds open one flap so they can retrieve Sam's pink button-down which had once been white until it took a tumble through the wash with a red sock of Dean's. "I surrender."
"Dude, you think I did this?" Dean splutters, because he's good when it comes to the prank wars, but he isn't that good. "You think I trained birds to dress you in the morning?" Dean frowns at Sam then, getting out of bed and swinging his feet to the floor. "And what's with the G-rated swearing anyway?"
"I don't know," Sam says, batting at the birds as they come at him with the shirt. Two friendly-looking chipmunks that have round cheeks and black stripes on their puffy tails each hold a sock and balance on the corners of Sam's bed. "I'm trying to swear, I can hear it in my head but when it comes out..." Sam waves a hand in front of his mouth. "F-f-fruitcake!"
"Sam," Dean says slowly, because his brother's now sitting up and Dean's finally gotten a good look at him. "Don't freak out but I think it might be a little worse than just the swearing and woodland creatures who want to molest you."
Sam blinks at Dean for a moment before he gets up and disappears into the bathroom. Dean waits and then gets worried when the silence stretches out. He follows Sam to the bathroom and pushes the door ajar, seeing his brother leaning against the small sink and staring at his reflection. Over the years Dean has gotten very used to how his brother looks. Seeing him after the separation of Stanford was a small shock because Sam had filled out and up but underneath it all was the same goofy little boy. Now though...
Sam tugs sadly on a lock of glossy black hair and turns big blue eyes in Dean's direction. What's probably worse than anything are that the moles are gone, replaced by smooth, flawless milk-pale skin. He still looks like Sam but not. Just like the blue birds, he's almost a cartoon-perfect version of himself. Sam sighs heavily and leans over, dropping his head onto his folded arms. "My life sucks," Sam says mournfully.
"Hey, we'll figure this out," Dean reassures, rubbing a hand up Sam's back.
oOo
The only good thing about the guy being outside their room, looking a little bewildered and holding a pillow with a fairly large glass boot on it, is that Dean hasn't seen him yet.
"Whatever you're thinking, no!" Sam snaps, trying to herd the guy away from their door before Dean finishes his marathon bout of tooth brushing and actually joins Sam. Dean had been wrestling with a happy little deer for the last towel when Sam finally gave up and started towards the diner on his own. His only hope was that the deer was scrappier than it looked.
"I just want you to try this on," the guy says but he's still looking so bewildered that Sam almost feels sorry for him. Sam tries hard not to step on the bunnies and chipmunks that are gathering around his feet as he non-too-politely turns the guy around and gives him a shove towards the bus stop on the corner.
"Go find a nice Princess-type and settle down. There's happily ever after in your future but you've gotta believe that it's not with me," Sam says.
"I'm not really sure what I'm doing," the guy says as Sam gives up on the bus idea and hails a passing cab, bundling the guy inside.
Dean is standing in the doorway when Sam gets back from the street. "Not a word," Sam says.
oOo
"There's gotta be a catch," Dean says, tucking into his breakfast. Sam is looking dejectedly at his porridge because he'd ordered bacon and the critters that had taken up residence around him had all clapped paws and claws to their tiny little mouths with gasps of horror. He'd changed his order and Dean had had to get them takeout because the waitress had given them death glares when Sam had tried to enter with his menagerie in tow.
They're now sitting outside on the raised step and Dean has eggs and hash browns in a white container balanced on his knees. He'd laughed but he hadn't actually been able to order himself bacon either when it had come down to it.
"I don't think it was a specific curse," Sam says, finally setting his porridge aside. He's fingering the neat little patch on his once hole-covered jeans and Dean swears he saw a bunny with a needle and thread that morning. "I think I might have gotten side-swiped by a jumble of things."
"Because you picked up her book," Dean says, shaking his head. They'd gone back before breakfast and there were a lot of cops and reporters but no book. Mercifully, when the crane had lifted the house away, there'd only been some flattened clothes and no witch. Dean just wished that other monsters would have the good grace to evaporate like that. Would make his job a hell of a lot easier.” So you think this might just be a pain in the ass that wears off eventually?"
"Hope so," Sam says but he doesn't look like he's convincing himself and he certainly isn't convincing Dean.
They're Winchesters. They're never that lucky.
"So what else have we got to look forward to? I was going to say this was all Wizard of Oz but that doesn't explain the animals or the guy with the shoe."
"No, I think you’re right. I think it's maybe a mix of fairy tales."
"Look, as long as the Impala doesn't turn into a pumpkin, we're good."
Sam looks out across the parking lot and then back to Dean with a grimace. "Sorry Dean, I should've said something."
"No harm done," Dean dismisses and adds a little mental wish to that.
Please, no harm done.
They're living a fairy tale so Dean figures wishes can't really hurt.
oOo
Sam feels a great lethargy stealing over him after breakfast so when they head back to the room, Sam flops belly-down on his bed.
"Don't go to sleep!"
"What? Why?" Sam grumbles, turning over and seeing Dean has real panic on his face.
"Because!" Dean says flailing his arms. "If this is a fairytale you can't. Those stories are chock full of chicks in comas."
"Don't be ridiculous," Sam sighs, mashing his face into his pillow and then letting out a squawk of protest when Dean lands on him and manhandles him upright, putting Sam in a headlock. "Argh, geroff me!"
"Are you kidding? Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, does any of this ring a bell to you?"
Sam was going to laugh it off, but then blackness starts to edge his vision and he realises what he's feeling isn't any kind of normal tired.
"Dean, I think-"
oOo
Dean is finally ready to admit defeat after he's dunked Sam under the shower, tried pouring coffee down his throat and used the ancient tape deck in the motel room to blast Metallica for so long that the people in the neighbouring room actually start thumping on the walls.
He now sits on the bed opposite his brother who looks preternaturally beautiful in the dying light of the day with a host of cute fuzzies gathered around, looking at Dean expectantly. "C'mon guys, really?" Dean sighs and he could swear that the chipmunks nod.
Dean stands, rubs his sweaty hands off on his jeans legs and then sits down again. He stands, rubs a hand over his mouth, crosses halfway to Sam's bed before backing up. Finally he crosses over to Sam, picks up one of Sam's hands and drops a kiss onto the back of it.
He's pretty sure the cute little towel-stealing fawn rolls its eyes.
"Okay, okay, fine!" Dean snarls and leans over Sam, planting hands on either side of his head. Dean nearly balks again when from somewhere the violins and tinkly piano music swells and all the little critters look entirely too gleeful. "You guys better pray you disappear after this because otherwise I'm havin' a BBQ," Dean threatens and then closes the last few inches.
oOo
Sam is back to being Sam and they are never, ever going to talk about it.
---
Author's Notes: This was the first of the request ficlets andtabaqui asked for wee!chesters with pets and... this happened.
I know according to one ep Dean knows nothing about fairy tales but you gotta know the classics...
Oh, and also, I think Wizard Of Oz isn't technically a fairy tale. I'm blatantly taking liberties with that one.
Category: Gen
Rating: PG (Language)
Fandom: SPN
By:
kellifer_ficSpoilers: None
Words: 2,029
Disclaimer: Written for entertainment purposes only. No money, no sue.
Notes: For
tabaqui. Further notes at the bottom"Cool."
Sam raises an eyebrow at his brother and then looks back at the scene before him. It's unbelievable and yes, pretty cool but Dean's already going to be crowing for days and he doesn't need the extra fodder.
"I know you hate witches, but this was a little overkill wasn't it?" Sam asks instead.
"Worked didn't it?"
"Yes, Dean it worked."
They had been tracking the same witch for a month who had been cutting a colorful and particularly bloody swathe through the countryside. When they finally caught up with her they tried stabbing, shooting, beheading and setting her on fire and she just cackled through it, flipping them off from her candy porch. They'd fast been running out of ideas when just the night before Dean had disappeared for three hours and had returned with a flat bed truck.
On top of it had been a section of one of those portable houses and okay again, they were cycling back to cool.
"You do realise," Sam says, rubbing his chin and looking at the feet sticking out from under the house thoughtfully. "That since this worked, we probably would have just been able to throw a bucket of water on her." There were stripy socks and sparkly shoes and this was all a little too surreal.
"We dropped a house on a witch," Dean says, waving Sam off with a dismissive flick of the wrist. "No way do the two compare in awesomeness."
"Okay fine," Sam huffs and then points to the witch's house. "We need to remove anything dangerous and get out of here before the glamour lifts and the whole street can see... you know, house made of candy."
"Kill joy," Dean snorts and makes towards the house.
"Hey, and don't touch anything!" Sam calls, or at least he starts to right before he leans down and scoops up the big red book the witch had dropped when they'd flattened her. There's a kawhomp noise and a lot of sparkly dust and Sam's last words are a choked off gasp.
"What was that?" Dean calls from the liquorice front steps.
"N-nothing," Sam calls back and hopes he's right.
Dean wakes up to birds singing.
This in and of itself isn't that unusual. What's unusual is that he actually kind of recognises the tune and there's also some violin and tinkly piano accompaniment. Dean lies on his back for a moment with his eyes closed and he finally gets it.
Somewhere Over The Rainbow
Dean cracks open one eye and then both. His mouth falls open.
There are honest to god blue birds, the cartoon kind that are actually blue and have rosy cheeks and bright happy eyes, hovering over Sam's bed. They're holding a pair of Sam's boxer shorts delicately between them in tiny claws.
"Um, Sam?" Dean tries and gets nothing but a grunt in return. Dean throws his pillow in the approximate location of Sam's head, hidden under blankets and Sam emerges with a scowl.
"Thought we were sleeping in today," Sam grumbles. "It's barely dawn dude."
"Yeah, I was willing to let you sleep but I don't think they are."
"Huh?" Sam twists his neck and spots the birds above him right before they drop his boxer shorts onto his face. "What the f-f-farmhouse?" Sam gets out and then turns a horrified expression on Dean. "What the h-h-ham and cheese is going on?"
Dean feels like he's going to burst a blood vessel he's laughing so hard. Sam's wadded-up boxers hit Dean in the face and he makes a strangled noise of protest. "How should I know?"
"Whatever you did," Sam says slowly, watching as the blue birds make their way over to his duffle where a bunny, not a rabbit but a bunny, helpfully holds open one flap so they can retrieve Sam's pink button-down which had once been white until it took a tumble through the wash with a red sock of Dean's. "I surrender."
"Dude, you think I did this?" Dean splutters, because he's good when it comes to the prank wars, but he isn't that good. "You think I trained birds to dress you in the morning?" Dean frowns at Sam then, getting out of bed and swinging his feet to the floor. "And what's with the G-rated swearing anyway?"
"I don't know," Sam says, batting at the birds as they come at him with the shirt. Two friendly-looking chipmunks that have round cheeks and black stripes on their puffy tails each hold a sock and balance on the corners of Sam's bed. "I'm trying to swear, I can hear it in my head but when it comes out..." Sam waves a hand in front of his mouth. "F-f-fruitcake!"
"Sam," Dean says slowly, because his brother's now sitting up and Dean's finally gotten a good look at him. "Don't freak out but I think it might be a little worse than just the swearing and woodland creatures who want to molest you."
Sam blinks at Dean for a moment before he gets up and disappears into the bathroom. Dean waits and then gets worried when the silence stretches out. He follows Sam to the bathroom and pushes the door ajar, seeing his brother leaning against the small sink and staring at his reflection. Over the years Dean has gotten very used to how his brother looks. Seeing him after the separation of Stanford was a small shock because Sam had filled out and up but underneath it all was the same goofy little boy. Now though...
Sam tugs sadly on a lock of glossy black hair and turns big blue eyes in Dean's direction. What's probably worse than anything are that the moles are gone, replaced by smooth, flawless milk-pale skin. He still looks like Sam but not. Just like the blue birds, he's almost a cartoon-perfect version of himself. Sam sighs heavily and leans over, dropping his head onto his folded arms. "My life sucks," Sam says mournfully.
"Hey, we'll figure this out," Dean reassures, rubbing a hand up Sam's back.
The only good thing about the guy being outside their room, looking a little bewildered and holding a pillow with a fairly large glass boot on it, is that Dean hasn't seen him yet.
"Whatever you're thinking, no!" Sam snaps, trying to herd the guy away from their door before Dean finishes his marathon bout of tooth brushing and actually joins Sam. Dean had been wrestling with a happy little deer for the last towel when Sam finally gave up and started towards the diner on his own. His only hope was that the deer was scrappier than it looked.
"I just want you to try this on," the guy says but he's still looking so bewildered that Sam almost feels sorry for him. Sam tries hard not to step on the bunnies and chipmunks that are gathering around his feet as he non-too-politely turns the guy around and gives him a shove towards the bus stop on the corner.
"Go find a nice Princess-type and settle down. There's happily ever after in your future but you've gotta believe that it's not with me," Sam says.
"I'm not really sure what I'm doing," the guy says as Sam gives up on the bus idea and hails a passing cab, bundling the guy inside.
Dean is standing in the doorway when Sam gets back from the street. "Not a word," Sam says.
"There's gotta be a catch," Dean says, tucking into his breakfast. Sam is looking dejectedly at his porridge because he'd ordered bacon and the critters that had taken up residence around him had all clapped paws and claws to their tiny little mouths with gasps of horror. He'd changed his order and Dean had had to get them takeout because the waitress had given them death glares when Sam had tried to enter with his menagerie in tow.
They're now sitting outside on the raised step and Dean has eggs and hash browns in a white container balanced on his knees. He'd laughed but he hadn't actually been able to order himself bacon either when it had come down to it.
"I don't think it was a specific curse," Sam says, finally setting his porridge aside. He's fingering the neat little patch on his once hole-covered jeans and Dean swears he saw a bunny with a needle and thread that morning. "I think I might have gotten side-swiped by a jumble of things."
"Because you picked up her book," Dean says, shaking his head. They'd gone back before breakfast and there were a lot of cops and reporters but no book. Mercifully, when the crane had lifted the house away, there'd only been some flattened clothes and no witch. Dean just wished that other monsters would have the good grace to evaporate like that. Would make his job a hell of a lot easier.” So you think this might just be a pain in the ass that wears off eventually?"
"Hope so," Sam says but he doesn't look like he's convincing himself and he certainly isn't convincing Dean.
They're Winchesters. They're never that lucky.
"So what else have we got to look forward to? I was going to say this was all Wizard of Oz but that doesn't explain the animals or the guy with the shoe."
"No, I think you’re right. I think it's maybe a mix of fairy tales."
"Look, as long as the Impala doesn't turn into a pumpkin, we're good."
Sam looks out across the parking lot and then back to Dean with a grimace. "Sorry Dean, I should've said something."
"No harm done," Dean dismisses and adds a little mental wish to that.
Please, no harm done.
They're living a fairy tale so Dean figures wishes can't really hurt.
Sam feels a great lethargy stealing over him after breakfast so when they head back to the room, Sam flops belly-down on his bed.
"Don't go to sleep!"
"What? Why?" Sam grumbles, turning over and seeing Dean has real panic on his face.
"Because!" Dean says flailing his arms. "If this is a fairytale you can't. Those stories are chock full of chicks in comas."
"Don't be ridiculous," Sam sighs, mashing his face into his pillow and then letting out a squawk of protest when Dean lands on him and manhandles him upright, putting Sam in a headlock. "Argh, geroff me!"
"Are you kidding? Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, does any of this ring a bell to you?"
Sam was going to laugh it off, but then blackness starts to edge his vision and he realises what he's feeling isn't any kind of normal tired.
"Dean, I think-"
Dean is finally ready to admit defeat after he's dunked Sam under the shower, tried pouring coffee down his throat and used the ancient tape deck in the motel room to blast Metallica for so long that the people in the neighbouring room actually start thumping on the walls.
He now sits on the bed opposite his brother who looks preternaturally beautiful in the dying light of the day with a host of cute fuzzies gathered around, looking at Dean expectantly. "C'mon guys, really?" Dean sighs and he could swear that the chipmunks nod.
Dean stands, rubs his sweaty hands off on his jeans legs and then sits down again. He stands, rubs a hand over his mouth, crosses halfway to Sam's bed before backing up. Finally he crosses over to Sam, picks up one of Sam's hands and drops a kiss onto the back of it.
He's pretty sure the cute little towel-stealing fawn rolls its eyes.
"Okay, okay, fine!" Dean snarls and leans over Sam, planting hands on either side of his head. Dean nearly balks again when from somewhere the violins and tinkly piano music swells and all the little critters look entirely too gleeful. "You guys better pray you disappear after this because otherwise I'm havin' a BBQ," Dean threatens and then closes the last few inches.
Sam is back to being Sam and they are never, ever going to talk about it.
Author's Notes: This was the first of the request ficlets and
tabaqui asked for wee!chesters with pets and... this happened. I know according to one ep Dean knows nothing about fairy tales but you gotta know the classics...
Oh, and also, I think Wizard Of Oz isn't technically a fairy tale. I'm blatantly taking liberties with that one.
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It's perfect! It actually WORKS!! Awesome.
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