SPN's My Bloody Valentine Parody – Chapter 5
For Lizzy0305 - Hope your day gets better!
Sam was dizzy and mentally numb after his 24 hours with Gabriel. He didn't have the energy to answer Dean's sleepy question, "What's with the clown getup?"
"Don't ask," was the only response he could muster before padding into the bathroom for a long shower. Unfortunately, he only got about two strides into the bathroom before his massive foot landed in something thick and sticky. "What the...," he mumbled to himself as he inspected the floor. His expensive bottle of conditioner was open, on its side, next to whitish goo that he knew wasn't his conditioner. "DEAN!" Sam climbed into the shower, closed the curtain, and turned on the hot water.
The door creaked open and his brother's voice piped up innocently. "Yeah, Sammy?"
"You and Cas made a mess on the floor," Sam groused. "Do you mind cleaning it up before I get out of the shower? I mean, I wouldn't make you clean up my jizz."
"Sure," Dean complied easily.
"And wash my damn conditioner bottle so I can use it! You know I frizz."
A couple moments later, the bottle came soaring over the curtain, cleaner than it had ever been.
"So," Dean started casually while Sam hoped he was cleaning his mess, "you never did explain why you were in that clown getup. You hate clowns." There was an obnoxious honk for added effect. He knew he should have thrown away that big red nose.
"Well, you know how Gabriel likes to fuck with people?"
"Well," Sam admitted sheepishly, "sometimes he's like an elementary-school boy, picking on someone because he likes them."
There was a long moment of silence from the other side of the curtain before Dean demanded, "You slept with him?"
"Yeah, so? You slept with Cas!"
"'So?' So, Cas never iced you, like, a thousand times!"
"He brought you back," Sam insisted, feeling strangely defensive of someone he hadn't realized he liked.
"He trapped us in TV Land!"
"We got out fine."
"He gave you Herpes!"
Wow. Way to poke a sore spot. "I didn't really have Herpes, Dean! I just had to say it!"
"But you really had The Clap."
"That wasn't even Gabriel!"
"No, but it was funny." Dean snickered childishly.
Sam growled in irritation, but he was just as mad at himself as he was at his brother. After all, he walked right into that one.
Dean finished washing the floor, reminiscing in the memory of dirtying it in the first place. As he stepped into the motel bedroom, he looked at Castiel, now fully dressed in his suit and trenchcoat, and was overcome by dizziness and apprehension. Suddenly, the memory of Cupid putting a spell on him was more vivid than any of the … oh, God … memories he and Cas had made in Eden.
"Dean..." Cas pleaded.
Dean put up a hand to stop him. He strode to their med kit (duffel bag... whatever) and started rummaging around in it. He found the half-empty whiskey bottle he was looking for and chugged it on a single breath of air. In seconds, the glass bottle was emptied and tossed carelessly to the side. Dean took several deep, calming breaths. But the half-bottle wasn't doing it for him, so he opened a new bottle.
"Dean, you shouldn't..."
Dean put his hand up to stop him again, then started on the second bottle of whiskey. After several gulps of the fiery liquor, he paused, feeling satisfyingly buzzed enough to speak. "Look... I don't want to talk about this. This never happened."
Cas looked so, so sad. His deep, blue eyes went wide and teary, like something out of a Hanna-Barbara cartoon, then he ducked his head in despair. "Very well."
Dean couldn't bear to see Castiel so sad. He was torn between conserving what was left of his dignity and comforting a man – angel – he deeply cared for. He was still deciding when Sam stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel, his damp muscles glistening oddly in the dim motel light.
"Oh my God," Sam exclaimed, "this fruit is fantastic! Where'd you get it?"
"What fruit?" Dean looked at Sam curiously and saw that not only was his brother emitting a slight pale aura, but in his hand was a familiar purple fruit with an unfamiliar giant bite mark exposing the cotton candy flesh within. "NO!" Dean exclaimed, dramatically extending his hand as if to undo what had already happened.
Across the room, Castiel stood shocked to his core, ghostly pale – even for someone as white as him. "What have you done?" he demanded.
"What?" Sam asked defensively, spitting bits of life fruit about the room.
A tumultuous thunderclap sounded inside the small room, shaking the furniture and making everyone gasp in fear. In the midst of the commotion, a man appeared in the center of the room. He looked middle-aged and was dressed like a hippie in natural fibers, neutral colors, and strappy sandals. As the rumbling died down, Dean could hear Sam choking on the forbidden fruit, but was strangely unconcerned. The inside of his own shirt was glowing like Tony Stark, so he reached inside it and pulled out his brightly lit necklace.
Castiel collapsed to one knee, head bowed. "Father," he said with great deference.
No one seemed to care that Sam was also on his knees, suffocating.
The hippie – God, Dean guessed accurately – cocked his head at Sam. "Did you eat my fruit?" he demanded the youngest Winchester. He had a thick accent that could only be described as Jewy. He flicked a finger, and Sam gasped for air. "Better?"
Sam coughed a couple times, nodding. "Yeah. Thanks."
"No problem," God responded easily. God started glancing from Sam to Dean to Cas and back again, figuring something out. His eyes bugged out and he demanded, "What year is it?"
"2010," Castiel replied faithfully.
God looked freaked out for a second, then exclaimed, "God damn it!"
"I told Joshua to wake me when before the Apocalypse!" God turned on Dean, apparently annoyed that this mortal was staring at him shamelessly. "Who the Hell are you?" he asked crankily.
"I'm Dean," Dean replied as if he were talking to... well, not God. "That's Sam, the schmuck who ate your fruit," he added, getting a bitchface for his trouble, "and that's Castiel."
God appraised them all again and asked, "Sam and Dean? Winchester?"
Sam and Dean nodded. Cas remained bent upon knee.
"If it's 2010, why aren't you two meat puppets for Mike and Lucy?"
"We said 'No,'" Dean answered grumpily.
God squinted at Dean, then walked slowly up to him, getting in his face. "I knew you'd be stubborn the minute I created you."
"If you don't like it, maybe you shouldn't have made me so stubborn."
Sam and Cas held their breath.
After a moment, God belted out a jolly chortle and hugged Dean, breaking the hunter's most important rule. "Would you look at the balls on this guy?" he laughed.
Sam and Cas released twin sighs of relief.
God turned around and faced Cas. "Cas, you don't have to kneel. I'm not in a smiting mood."
Cas stood, but couldn't meet his Father's eyes.
God examined Castiel closely, then asked, "Castiel, did you have intercourse with your human charge?"
Castiel closed his eyes in shame, but took a deep breath and admitted, "I have, Father."
"It's about time!" God exclaimed.
Finally, Cas looked God in the eye. "Father?"
"You think it was a coincidence that you were the one to raise him from perdition? It was fate. You two belong together. I mean, you marked him, didn't you?"
Cas looked at Dean hopefully and nodded. "I did, Father."
"Marks like that don't happen by accident, my son. They are the result of two powerful souls binding themselves together because they are meant to be that way."
"Is that the only way to get them?" Sam asked from across the room.
God turned around and looked at him for a moment. "Show me yours," he insisted.
Dean and Cas were immediately interested and stared intently at Sam.
Sam blushed, but obediently turned around and lifted the back of his towel to reveal a bright red upside-down handprint on his left buttock.
"Aw, man!" Dean cringed. He didn't need to see his baby brother's butt.
"Ah," God said wisely. "Gabriel. You know, I didn't plan on that, but you two are a good match. You might have better luck keeping him grounded than I did. Good luck with him. He's a handful, you know."
"Thanks, I've noticed."
There was an awkward moment of silence, then God announced, "Well, I've gotta go! Angels to smite, Apocalypses to stop, you know the deal. Just, one last thing..." He extended his hand and flung the remaining life fruit to Castiel. "Finish that, off, Cas, and you'll get your powers back. Sam's already eaten enough to cleanse him of the Demon blood that plagued him."
"Really?" Sam asked optimistically.
"Really really," God responded. "But no human since Adam and Eve has tasted that fruit, and if you touch any more of it, I will smite your ass just as sure as you are tall. ¿Capische?"
"Good. Toodles!" God disappeared undramatically, without so much as a wing flap or slight breeze, and within hours, the world was as it should be – and had once been.
Dean, Cas, Sam, and Gabriel lived happily (though in Sam's case chronically irritated) ever after.
A/N: So far, I've liked all my endings better than Swan Song. Frankly, I blame the end of Season 5 for my lack of updating. I thought it was awful and I've been too depressed (from hating the eps, not from the eps being sad) to write. But perhaps I will crank out a couple more alternate endings before September 24th – after all, my dog could write better endings, and he doesn't even have opposable thumbs... or the ability to write or spell.
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