Notes

Ok, a lovely reader challenged me to write a funny story. I started this one back in April, but never really finished it, so I decided since someone requested a crack!fic, I'd pick it back up again.

This takes place some time after Jus In Bello, which isn't really important, but I just thought I'd let ya'll know.

I hope you get a few laughs and enjoy the ride: )

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"No, see married couples can get divorced. Me and him, we're more like uh...Siamese twins."

"It's conjoined twins!"

"See what I mean?"

oo-.-oo

Chapter 1

A footstool hurtled towards Dean and smashed against the wall right where his head would have been had he not ducked. Sam whirled around at the sound and quickly triggered a round of rocksalt at the spirit where it stood across the room. The aim held true and deterred the spirit of the old woman for the time-being. Sam quickly gave himself a mental high five and turned to Dean where he stood, huddled, beside him.

"You alright?"

"I'm fine." Dean grumbled as he brushed some splintered wood off his shoulder and stood back up. "Getting just a little freakin' pissed, but fine."

It had seemed like a simple job. The spirit of an old hermit of a woman thought to be responsible for the disappearance of a few children and of practicing witch-craft back in the 1500's was causing mild terror for dumb teenagers looking for chills and thrills at an old, broken-down house. Sam had found the article and done the research, it was actually one of their easier cases compared to the other ones they'd tackling lately. It had said exactly where the woman was buried: by request, in the basement of her home. The only problem was the fact that the damn old woman's spirit wasn't too keen on two strange, though handsome, boys putting her to rest.

A large bureau slid across the floor and towards Sam and Dean. Not able to move out of the way in time, both brothers were knocked back and pinned against the wall behind them.

"Agh! Damnit!" Dean immediately braced his elbows against the wall and began trying to free both he and Sam. "Sam, we good?"

Sam groaned. "Great. Except there's a two-hundred pound dresser crushing me."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Cry me a river, the damn thing's crushing me too."

Dean strained and tried again to move back the dresser. After no success he slumped back and shot a look at Sam. "I wanted to go to the Grand Canyon."

Sam rolled his eyes and snorted. "Oh come on. Do we have to talk about this right now?" He bared his teeth and gave the bureau another shove.

Dean growled in his effort to help and then looked back at Sam. "Well, since we're both stuck here, then yes. I think it's the perfect time to talk about it."

As if fueled by the desire to do anything but "talk about it" Sam put all possible strength into moving the dresser; still nothing.

"I'm serious, man. Times running out, and there's still some stuff I'd like to do befo-"

"No! Just...just help me move this thing, alright?"

"What? Don't I deserve to have a little fun?"

"Dean jus-"

"No, no I'm serious. You can't just keep pretending like the years not almost over, Sam."

Sam finally looked over at Dean for the first time, his eyes ablaze with anger-masked sadness. "Don't tell me what I can and can't do! You're not the one who's going to have to deal with this, Dean. I am! And how I do so is my own business."

"Well excuse me for wanting to spend my remaining time on earth with my brother. Somewhere safe and peaceful. Not pinned by a rotten-ass piece of furniture in a broken-down dump."

"Yeah? Well you should have thought of that before you went off making deals that end up with you burning in Hell and me staying here to rot by myself!"

"Ah 'guilt', that's right. Pile it on! It's not like I don't have enough of that as it is."

Both were so engrossed in their conversation that neither Sam nor Dean noticed the dead yet curious eyes watching them. The old woman's ghostly features crinkled into a smile as an idea came to her. These two strangers -they were brothers, she knew that now- had given her another opportunity to work her magic...quite literally. She glided soundlessly towards the bickering men and stopped right before them, the long skirt of her pale, transparent dress disappearing through the solid wood of the bureau.

"I thought we saw see eye to eye on this now!"

"Dean-"

"Seriously, after what you went through back in Broward it seems you could understand perfectly what-"

"Dean!"

"What?!"

Dean realized that Sam had stopped looking at him and was focusing on something else entirely. He followed Sam's gaze and finally stopped on where it lay. The old lady's spirit smiled down at him.

"Crap."

Dean breathed out in a frustrated breath, his head thumping lightly as it fell back against the wall. The spirit's smiled widened and she lifted her arms at her sides, palms facing up. She closed her eyes and began mumbling something under her breath. Simultaneously fueled by the strong desire to not figure out what the old woman was doing, both Winchesters again began violently fighting to free themselves from the dresser. The woman's spirit reached a ghostly hand towards each of them. Both Sam and Dean froze and pushed back against the wall as if willing themselves to melt through the drywall and escape the deathly touch.

"Dean?" Sam croaked, the name a desperate question.

"I don't know!" Dean ground out as he turned his head to avoid the cold fingers reaching towards him.

The spirit's hands finally rested, one on each Winchester's head. A shiver ran threw Dean, most definitely caused by the icy touch of the spirit, but other than that he felt no other sensation caused by the hand. The spirit closed her eyes and began the mumbled words again. Her voice rose after a minute and the language she spoke turned into English.

"Love and hate, thick and thin, the essence of thy self remains within. What life has revealed, what wrong has been bidden, the secrets of oneself remains still hidden..."

Sam's eyebrows dipped in a classic "WTF?" look and he turned his head to aim the inquisitive gaze towards Dean. Dean looked back and flicked his eyebrows up in a signal of mutual confusion.

"...This evening I shall grant the gift of new sight, which shall be revealed upon the dying of night. To know how he loves, to learn why he cries, one must look into his very own eyes."

The witch broke her touch on Sam and Dean and she swung her hands together in a echoing clap, disappearing immediately in a soft poof of sound. The dresser pinning her victims, or students rather, for she sought to teach them both something, relinquished its hold, granting them freedom. Both brothers immediately shoved the hefty piece of furniture away and sat, blinking in confusion. Dean eyes darted around quickly and he sat up straight. He looked over at Sam, green eyes wide.

"You feel weird?"

Sam shrugged and shook his head. "No. You?"

"No." Dean agreed. "Then what the hell did that crazy broad just do?"

"I have no idea." Sam pushed himself onto his knees then feet. Dean followed suit and brushed off the dust from backside of his jeans.

"What was that mumbo-jumbo riddle-crap that she was saying? Felt like I was in a bad Joel Shumaker movie."

"Don't know. Maybe she was just trying to scare us."

"Yeah maybe...But either way I say we file this spirit under the "Psycho Bitch" category and go back to the motel."

Sam blew out a breath and nodded. "Yeah. Well, there's no reports that she's hurt anybody so far, just scared a few teens. Maybe we should just leave this one be."

Both brothers picked up their fallen shotguns and headed back out to the Impala.The ride back was quiet as both occupants of the car felt a sudden tiredness brought on by their confusing night. Upon reaching the hotel, Sam and Dean did little more than go to their beds and fall right to sleep.

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A draft of cold air caused Dean to shiver slightly and wake slowly from the deep pull of sleep. He opened his eyes and blinked sleepily. The wall he was facing gradually came into focus. "Hmm, that's odd. Thought I called dibs on the bed by the door." Dean squinted as he begin to realize that he felt a little weird. He shifted to turn over when he realized what had woken him up. His feet were uncovered and hanging halfway off the end of the bed. Dean propped himself up on his elbows and regarded his feet with a puzzled look. "Jeez, can't this crummy motel at least afford beds big enough to accommodate their guests?" He grumbled out a sighed and figured since he was awake, he might as well wake Sam so they could perhaps get a head start on moving on to another hunt.

"Sam?"

Dean cleared his throat when his voice didn't quite come out right.

"Sam?" He tried again, but the same voice came out. It was the voice of...Dean's favored look of confusion since he had woken up crossed his face again. "What the hell? Why do I sound like..." Something wasn't right. Dean threw the covers off of himself and got out of bed. He moved over to Sam's bed to inform him that something was up, but stopped short. Dean's eyes went wide and he stumbled backwards and ran into the bathroom. He violently threw on the light and rushed to the mirror. Dean froze as he stared at the reflection looking back at him. He didn't know how long he'd been staring in shock, eyes wide enough to put saucers to shame and mouth agape like a thirsty fish, when he heard movement in the room.

"Dean?"

Dean didn't respond.

"Dude, I think I might be coming down with something, my voice-"

Dean turned slowly as he heard his brother's voice stop short and he stared fully at him. A shared look of complete shock and total silence passed between the two brothers for a good four and a half minutes.

"Dean...you're..."

"Oh really?! I hadn't noticed!" Dean said, voice hard with utter confusion.

Sam shuffled numbly over to where Dean stood in front of the mirror and looked into it himself. He went on to look from his reflection to his brother's reflection to his own again. Except when he looked back at his own reflection he saw short, brown hair, full lips parted in shock, and fierce green eyes.

"Holy crap." Sam breathed quietly, Dean's voice falling from his mouth.

...Dun dun dun dun dun duuuuuuuuh...

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NOTICE: If you have anything you'd like to see in this story, I'm open to requests and I'll use the good ones in future chapters.

So, what do ya think? Good? Bad? Ugly? Let me know.

I'm DYING for Supernatural to do a body-switching episode, but I don't think it will ever happen(Wah), so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I'm not sure if anyone has done this yet. If they have, I haven't come across it.

I'm dying to hear what ya'll think; )

Reviews are writing in pop culture references...and I'm Sara Gamble.

o-.-o-Lil-o-.-o