Author's Note: This is for the #SupernaturalObsessed contest on dA. The theme is "I'm a what?" The character in the story has to go through a transformation of some kind. Now, what will it be? You just have to read and find out ;] Oh, this takes place in Season 2 between House of Holy and Hollywood Babylon.

Disclaimer: Like everyone else on here, I don't own Supernatural. It's too bad 'cuz I really a show with hot guys in it ;]

Word Count: 1,676

Warnings: Cussing. No spoliers.

Now, let's read the story :]


"Sammy!" I shouted wanting Sam to duck out of the way before it was too late. I wasn't sure if he heard me because the next thing I know, he's flown across the room and I'm attached to the wall by the friggin' by the witch we were hunting. It's a pain in the ass 'cuz I was trying to hunt to the bitch but it wasn't working.

I attempt to unattached myself from the wall to see if Sam is alright. He's laying on the floor of the room against a bookcase not moving. We're in a study that has the usually things, desk, computer, bookshelf, filing cabinet and whatnot. I'm currently pinned to the wall behind the desk and in-between two windows. Sam is laying on the floor across from me. The witch looks back at me then to Sam and an evil smile appears on her face. "Whatever you're planning bitch, don't try it." I growl trying to break the hold on the wall.

She looks back at Sam who has started to stir. "I'd watch your mouth. If I remember correctly, you're the one attached to the wall." She spits at me.

"Yeah but I'm not the cranky bitch now am I?" I shot back unable to help myself with the remark. She frowns but then an evil smile creeps up on her face once again. This one is different from before. This smile is more evil then before. I immediately regret my statement. I look back down to Sam who is now looking at me trying to get a message across. I immediately understand what he's saying and turn my attention back to the witch in front of me.

I'm about to open my mouth and say something when I'm thrown across the room into the filing cabinet. Right before I hit the cabinet, I felt my leg hit something then heard a crash. I grunt as I hear a pop and pain ripples across my shoulder and I fall to the floor. I'm picked up once again and she's launching me to the bookshelf.

I'm about to be propelled into the bookshelf when I fall to the ground. I grunt as my shoulder screams in pain when I hit the ground. I lay there for a second and then jump to my feet feeling for my gun in the waist band. I find the grip of my gun and grab it out of the waist band of my pants. The witch is laying on the ground with Sam above her. She is muttering curses under her breath. I notice blood is trickling from her scalp where Sam hit her with his gun.

I'm about to shot the bitch when I hear laughter from the floor. It's not the oh-my-god-I'm-crazy laugh. Oh no it's the I-have-a-plan laugh. I look up at Sam who has his eye brow raised at me. I aim the gun at the witch's head and pull the hammer back. "What are you laughing about?"

"You'll see in the morning," Once again, the evil smile appears on her face. I was about the do something to her when both Sammy and I were flown across the room into the bookshelf. Sam landed on top of me and let me tell you, that boy is not light. I grunted for the third time in eight minutes as Sam's weight hurt my shoulder. I was about to tell my brother to get the hell off me when the bookshelf fell down.


"Dean," I moaned feeling something shake my shoulder. I opened my eyes to have everything blurry. I saw a blurry face above me that became clearer as I blinked several times.

"Sammy where's the bitch?" I growled sitting up too fast because my head began to spin. Despite the spinning, I stood up looking around the room. The bookshelf was laying next to me, the computer was laying on the floor (that must have been what my foot knocked over), the filing cabinet had a dent in it, and the wall had a slight imprint from where I was being held by the evil witch. "The owner of this house is gonna be pissed when he sees what happened."

"He's gone and that's why we should leave before he gets home." Sam said picking up his gun and handing me mine.


Back at the motel I sat on the bed after kicking my shoes off. "What did she mean by 'you'll see in the morning'?" I leaned against the head board with a beer in my hand. I was ignoring the pain in my shoulder thinking it was only bruised.

"Not sure but I think she was muttering a curse earlier," Sam powered up the laptop and turned to face me from where he was sitting at the kitchenette table. "How's your shoulder?"

"To me it looked like she was just swearing at us. Hurts like a bitch," I responded unconsciously moving my shoulder away from Sam.

"She coulda been muttering a curse at one of us." He stood up and was by the side of the bed in three long strides. "Lemme have a look." I reluctantly leaned forward and shrugged off my jacket and then my shirt so Sam was seeing my bare shoulder. He poked and prodded and I hissed at him to stop. "Looks dislocated."

"From hitting a filing cabinet?" I raised an eyebrow and took a swig of the amber liquid in my hand.

"Yeah I'm going to pop it back in. Let me get the good stuff." Sam went out to the Impala and grabbed the Jack Daniels from the trunk along with the medical bag we kept. I waited wondering what the bitch could've possible cursed one of us with.

Sam came back in handing me the bottle of whiskey. I swallowed a couple mouth full's and Sam waited for the alcohol to take effect. While waiting for the wonderful numbing medicine to work, I shifted so I was sitting cross legged on the bed with my back facing Sam. "Ready?" I nodded grinding my teeth knowing how much this was going to hurt. Sam placed one of his hands on the front of my shoulder and then the other on the back of it. "Okay on three. One-tw—"

"Sonvabitch!" I shouted after Sam popped my shoulder in back in place. "What happened to three?"

Sam let a smile creep up on his face. "You'd be tense if I waited 'til three."

"Bitch," I muttered under my breath taking a drink of the whiskey.

"Jerk," Sam smirked.


Several hours later I woke up to a muffled cry and then a popping sound. I jumped out of bed grabbing for my knife that was underneath the pillow. I scanned the room looking for Sam but I couldn't find him. The clock read three 'oh four in the morning. There was no way Sam would be out doing something. He was always first to go to bed and first to rise but not this early. I remember Sam fell asleep reading a book at midnight. "Sam?" I called out into the darkness hoping he'd respond.

With no response, I walked over to the bathroom and kicked open the door. He pulled back the curtain. Sam wasn't in the bathroom. I grabbed my cell and hit 2 on speed dial. His phone started to ring across the nightstand and shit my phone in frustration.

I looked over at his bed and saw his sheets were still made as if he was sleeping. "That's odd," I muttered standing in front of the bed. This close to the bed, there was a square in the middle of the bed. My eyebrows knotted together as I grabbed a handful of the rough material. I yanked the sheets back to see…

…a laptop.

The laptop was a rather large one with a blue top and black bottom. I opened the cover and saw the buttons were brown. Now that was a strange design. We didn't have a laptop like this. The only one we had was Sam that was gray. I glanced over my shoulder and his laptop was on the table where he'd left it.

I eyed the power button unsure whether or not to turn it on. I decided to turn it on, it wouldn't hurt anything or anyone. I sat on the bed next to the laptop waiting for it to power up.

I leaned against the wall and placed the laptop on my lap. The computer was already powered up and the screen saver was a brown, like the color of the keys. I was about to go snooping around the computer when a chat popped up.

Sam: Dean?

I looked around the room to see if Sam was back but he wasn't. His phone was the nightstand, his computer on the table, and his shoes on the floor next to his bed. I focused back on the screen and typed in my reply.

Dean: Ridley C. Scott

Where are you Sammy?

Sam: I don't know. I heard a pop and then everything went black.

Dean: Did you leave the motel room?

Sam: No.

"What the hell?" I muttered annoyed. this was going nowhere.

Sam: I heard that.

I froze. How did he hear that? There was no way he could've heard that. "Heard what?" I asked out loud.

Sam: You say 'what the hell'.

I froze with my eyes wide. My jaw almost dropped. The computer made sense. It had been where Sam was sleeping. Sam had been wearing a blue tee shirt and black sweatpants when he went to bed; that would explain the color of the laptop. His eyes were brown and his hair was brown.

Everything made sense.

I started to laugh.

Sam: What? Why are you laugh? Dean! Tell me why you're laughing. Dammit Dean!

"Dude, chill." I stopped laughing and smiled. "You're a laptop." There was a pause and then a message popped up.

Sam: I'm a what?