for suptober22 day 10: enchanted
The bunker appeared massive from Dean’s vantage point. The library table he stood upon was a vast prairie of finished wood. The lights overhead felt like a thousand blazing suns. The two faces staring down at him belonged to giants. Sam was always huge, but now he was King Kong-sized. Cas really was the size of the Chrysler Building.
“What happened to him?” Cas’s voice rumbled from far above, vibrating the table.
Dean slid across the surface. Sam reached down and stopped Dean’s movement with a hand the size of a turkey meant to feed a family of twelve.
“He touched an enchanted object while we were cleaning the storage room,” Sam said. He walked out of view, his footsteps echoing thunder. He returned with the object in question, a sparking green jewel wrapped in a plaid hand towel, and showed it to Cas. “I told him to be careful.”
Dean would have protested, pulled a face, punched him, or something. But that Dean couldn’t. Dean couldn’t do much of anything. He had a featureless face save for his green button eyes, an oval body, and four rounded limbs in the approximation of legs and arms protruding from it.
He was a crochet doll. Not even a good one.
Causing a crash and an earthquake, Cas crouched to be at eye-level with Dean. Cas’s face was huge, blue eyes the size of oceans, the stubble across his cheeks a forest, and the nails on the end of his fingers resting on the table shining pools of holy light. Dean figured most people would look horrible at this angle, but Cas appeared divine, good. Dean felt like he’d snatched a small, privileged glimpse of the true form hidden under Cas’s vessel. It must be beautiful.
On the other hand, Sam wasn’t fairing so well from Dean’s perspective. He could see right up Sam’s nose. Oh, Dean was handing him the trimmer the second he had usable hands.
Cas cupped a hand around Dean’s new body, his touch warm, gentle, and tingling with grace. “I can feel his presence. He is alive. Just…"
“A half-finished amigurumi doll?” Sam sighed. The resulting wind would have launched Dean over the table’s edge if Cas hadn’t been holding him steady. “How do we fix him?”
Cas held his free hand out to Sam. “May I see that gem?”
Sam carefully placed the object in Cas’s hand, the towel covering every piece of exposed skin. Cas stared at it, at the swirling green light in the centre, his brow wrinkling in concentration. He concentrated for so long, Dean wondered if the gem could make time stop, too. He would have that kind of luck.
“Sam,” Cas said, “please stand back.”
The resulting booms indicated that Sam followed the command, then Dean’s world tipped sideways. Everything blurred as he moved. Dean couldn’t shut his plastic eyes to stave off the motion sickness. His yarn stomach lurched and churned, if that were possible, as he ascended up, up, up.
Finally, it stopped, and Dean realized he was safely cupped in Cas’s palm. It was kind of nice if he ignored the circumstances. It was similar to lounging in a hammock, if the hammock was made out of fleshy appendages.
Okay, Dean made it weird.
Ringing filled the room, then bright blue light blotted out everything. The blue became mixed with green, and Dean unravelled.
While it didn’t hurt, it was a strange sensation, like how he imagined a ferret flattening its body to shove itself through the gap in the bottom of a closed door felt. It began with his leg, the yarn stretching and spinning until it was the size of a human’s, one at a time. His arms suffered the same treatment until his cotton parts turned into skin, muscle, and bone. The transformation ended when Dean’s eyes formed, pushing the two buttons out until they clacked against the floor.
The light faded and the noise ceased. Cas dropped the gem, which skidded under the table, dull, dark, and lifeless.
Dean’s ears rang. His swallowed, his throat dry. Dean’s limbs, Dean’s human limbs, swung in the air. He blinked over and over again to clear his vision.
Holy shit, Cas held him in his arms, one hand at his back and the other at his knees. Dean didn’t try to free himself, didn’t want to. Instead, he rested his head against Cas’s broad muscled chest. He felt Cas’s eyes on him and looked up to meet them, smiling shyly. Dean could swim in that ocean.
“Hey, Cas,” Dean said. “Thanks for the rescue."
Cas tipped his head. "Of course, Dean.”
Sam loudly cleared his throat from behind them. Dean and Cas paid him no mind.
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