A/N: None of this is my fault. Not one jot of it. My reaction to writing this is about the same as Dean's reaction to being in it. Warning for use of the word "bullcrap" (I'm sorry, it's canon, I can't help but use it, even if it is a ridiculous word).
God Knows I Want to Break Free
It was a normal day. A completely normal day. It was a sight more normal than the average Winchester day, in fact; they weren't even looking into anything. There hadn't been even an inkling that they were going to be thrown into one of the most bizarre situations of their lives. There was nothing, no sign whatsoever; the weather was as predicted, neither of them had felt off during the day, nothing was wrong. The weirdest thing was that the TV was turned on and tuned to a music channel, which, considering that it was playing rock, barely registered on the Winchester scale of weird.
So, where were we? Oh yes, perfectly, completely and utterly normal day. Right up until the point when Dean glanced up at the TV and something yanked him through the screen. Not 'through the screen' in the this-television-mortally-offended-me-and-I'm-going-to-use-your-body-to-smash-it-to-pieces kind of way that poltergeists love. No, Dean could've dealt with that, Dean had dealt with that more times than he cared to remember, that was the kind of thing he was good at dealing with. This was slightly more complicated and involved going through the glass without breaking it and not only that, but ending up inside the goddamn music video. Dean wasn't a close-minded man, but he had – up until that moment – put that kind of thing firmly on his so-called 'bullcrap list'.
Once his feet were set firmly back on whatever ground there happened to be inside the TV, Dean's hand instinctively whipped to pull out the pistol in the back of his pants, but found a skirt instead. And then Dean realised what he was wearing. A schoolgirl's uniform. What the hell music video was this anyway? If it was some Avril Lavigne crap, Dean was going to drown himself in the sink he was standing at before the song even got going.
Luckily for humanity (which would have suffered greatly without Dean Winchester) it was not Avril Lavigne and he recognised the beginning strains of music that his foot was tapping to of its own accord.
"Dean!" called Sam from the other room. Dean spun around.
"Sammy, you're here, too?"
"Yeah, Dean, are you...? Are you wearing weird clothes?" Dean moved to the doorway, but out of the three people in the room , he couldn't immediately tell which one was Sam. In the end, it was only really Sam looking at him pleadingly that clued him in. Sam looking at him pleadingly as he pushed a vacuum cleaner around the room while wearing high heels, stockings, a PVC miniskirt, a pink top covering a really awful pair of fake boobs, and a wig (Dean hoped). Not to mention that he was sporting one of those moustaches that Freddy Mercury was famous for having. Dean was too shocked to even laugh. Until Sam next opened his mouth.
"I want to break free" he declared. Dean completely broke down laughing. "I want to break free!" said Sam again, scowling his best scowl. "I want to break free from your lies, you're so self-satisfied, I don't need you." Sam practically spat the words at Dean, who was leaning against the doorframe, doubled over, face shielded from view by his long blonde hair. "I've got to break free." Dean snapped upright, a feeling of horror creeping up his spine.
"God knows," they sang in harmony. Sam walked over to a closet.
"God knows I want to break free." Sam finished off the chorus by himself and then opened the closet.
"What the hell did you do that for?" asked Dean, not feeling quite so amused with Sam's situation having been forced into singing himself.
"I don't know, I just had to." He shut the closet again. Dean cocked his head to listen.
"Hey, the song's still going on, what do you think's happening?"
"The video must have moved elsewhere. Dean, did you notice anything weird before you got dragged in here?"
"No, there was nothing. I just glanced up at the TV and suddenly bam! Here I am wearing this ridiculous shit."
"Yeah, same here." Dean couldn't help but crack a grin seeing Sam's patented thinking face with added moustache and wig.
"Come on, Dean, get serious."
"Sorry, man, but it's hard." Sam suddenly smiled back at him.
"Yeah, you look pretty stupid, too." Dean reached up to yank his own wig off, but found it stuck to his head. Sam gave a game attempt at getting rid of his wig, but quickly moved onto the high heels. "These things are awful," he said, hopping on one foot, trying with all his might to pull the shoe off the other one.
"And you really don't need to be any taller, either." Sam eventually gave up on his shoes.
"You think this is all going to end when the song ends?"
"I was kinda hoping that we're having a hallucination brought on by a gas leak or something and that we're going to pass out any minute."
"You think that this is what we'd hallucinate?" Dean gave a half-shrug. "You're disturbed, man."
Without any warning, Sam was zapped into the other room and Dean to the table with a book open on it. The other two people in the room – also men dressed as women, who'd been frozen up until now – started moving again.
"But life still goes on," Dean heard Sam say before he re-entered the room with a feather duster in his hands. "I can't get used to living without, living without, living without you by my side. I don't want to live alone." The sheer contrast of Sam's facial expression to the way his body was strutting around the room in a supposedly sexy manner sent Dean straight back into hysterics. "Hey"
An invisible force pulled Dean's head up and Sam leant in close so they were both looking towards the same blank piece of wall. " i God knows/i " sang Sam as Dean mouthed along with him. Then Sam got up and continued towards the stairs. "Got to make it on my own! So, baby, can't you see?" Dean was forced to watch Sam go up the stairs, but he wouldn't have missed it for the world. They way Sam was draping himself all over bannister, even though he was clearly trying to fight it, reduced Dean to tears. "I've got to break free."
Sam stomped back down the stairs, almost tripped over his heals, but caught himself on the bannister and glared at Dean. Glared at Dean so hard that, by all rights, Dean should have been reduced to ashes. "Shut up! Shut up!"
"I'm trying, dude, I'm trying!" Dean managed between giggles.
"Yeah, you're trying real hard." Sam hit Dean over the back of his head.
"Hey! I am! But... But you shoulda seen yourself!"
"Says the guy with pigtails and ribbons in his hair."
"You're wearing stockings!"
"You're wearing tights!"
"Your boobs look like shit."
"They look better than yours."
"Hey! That's not my fault!" It was only after Dean declared this that they both realised that neither of them had boobs any more and that they were sitting back in their hotel room like nothing had happened. Like it was still a normal day. Silence descended on the room. Sam cleared his throat. Dean glanced at the TV.
"You feel like coffee? I'm gonna go get some coffee."
"Yeah, I think I'll join you."
The End (thank god)
So uh, you can look up the music video on youtube or something if you want the full effect. Else if you just want to stay far, far away from me, I won't blame you.