Author: Kat Lee
Character/Pairing: Dean/Sam, Crowley, Castiel
Challenge/Prompt: 1_million_words August Rush: Day 6:
Word Count: 776
Date Written: 15 August 2017
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Kripke, not the author, and are used without permission.
Dean sputters as none other than the King of Hell himself walks into the room dressed as a Priest. “Crowley! What the -- ?!”
The Demon shrugs his shoulders. “It’s your dream, Squirrel, not mine, and don’t act like this is the first time you’ve seen me use this disguise.”
“It’s not,” Dean admits, shaking his head, “but I’ll never understand it.”
“That’s because you don’t want to understand it. A part of you still wants to cling to the beliefs that your mommy tried to instill in you, but wake up. You know better. Not all Priests are good, no more than all Angels are -- “
“Angels are douchebags.”
“Hey!” Castiel exclaims, hurt.
“Present company excluded, of course,” Dean says, glancing at the pouting Angel before glaring back at Crowley.
Crowley glares back. “Don’t look at me like that, Deano,” he teases. “Your face might get stuck.”
“What are you doing here anyway?”
“Told you, Squirrel: It’s your dream. You tell us.”
A piano starts to play in a corner, all by itself. Castiel looks up and around. “Does anyone else hear that?”
“We all hear it, Cas,” Dean says, his glare shifting to the piano and the keys that continue to press down seemingly of their own accord, “but why the heck is it playing the Wedding March?”
“Oh,” Crowley comments as though the situation is beginning to make sense to him at last, “that’s why you wanted me to come as a Priest. Castiel must be your witness, and since Moose isn’t here, he’s gotta be -- “ He turns toward the door and finishes with a wide, smug grin, “ -- the beautiful, blushing bride.”
“Sammy?” Dean asks, suddenly breathless.
His brother approaches him dressed in a full, white wedding gown whose train continues out of the room and pass where Dean’s wide eyes can see. He turns toward him, and Dean notices for the first time that Sam is on Bobby’s arm.
“Shut your piehole, son,” Bobby remarks, “before you catch a fly.”
Dean slowly shuts his mouth but continues to stare as Bobby and Sammy come closer. Sam looks at him from the other side of the veil. “Are you sure we can do this?” he asks.
“I’m not even sure what the Hell’s going on!”
“What do you mean, boy? You’re getting married!”
Crowley throws his head back in laughter. “Shut up!” Dean hisses at him, but the Demon keeps laughing. His laughter resonates through the room and around it. Dean can suddenly hear all the Demons of Hell laughing with their King. “Shut up! Shut up!”
“I knew we couldn’t do this!” Sammy cries as an invisible force suddenly snatches him away.
“Keep fighting for what you belief in, son!” Bobby’s gone next, but before Dean can even react to his disappearance, Castiel cries out in pain. He whirls around, but nothing is left where the Angel had just stood except for a handful of black feathers floating to the floor.
“SHUT UP!” Dean whirls back around and glowers down at Crowley. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”
But Crowley just keeps laughing. The whole room shakes with the laughter of every Demon in Hell. Dean screams and continues to scream as the Earth itself seems to shake.
“Sammy?” Dean stops screaming upon hearing his brother’s voice and tries to hold to it, tries to pinpoint its location so he can follow . . .
“DEAN! WAKE UP! YOU’RE HAVING A NIGHTMARE!”
Dean gasps as he returns to consciousness. He looks around the room and finally up to a face filled with fear and concern for him. He reaches up and caresses his beloved little brother’s face. “Sammy,” he breathes uncertainly, still shaken.
Sam touches the hand that caresses his face and holds it there. “Are you alright?” he asks in concern.
“I -- I think so. Yeah, yeah, I’m all right.” Dean lets go of his crazy dream with one last shudder. “But, Sammy?”
“Don’t ever wear white.”
Still looking down at him, Sam frowns.
Dean shakes his head. “It’s just not your color,” he says rather than what he’d really like to say which is, Hold me. “Trust me.” He rolls to his feet, pushing Sammy gently to the side as he stands. “Now let’s get on that road, get a head start.”
Sam eyes him. “Are you sure?”
“‘Course I’m sure. Come on. I’m fine.” Dean grabs his bag, which he’d packed the night before, and heads for the door. Sam grabs his belongings and follows after him, turning out the light behind them in the hotel room and never hearing the Demonic snickering that bounces off the walls in the darkness.