[Apologias to the rest of you, this will likely be weird and stupid and mean nothing, I just thought of a cringe for someone else, because I’m evil]
@butiaintgonnaloveem - You did not ask for this as I did, but you shall receive because even though I’m *technically* offline doing stuff, this just hit me, since they’re [you’ll see the they] three words each, a la.....
SUCK IT [a special bonus 300]
.
“I have had it with these motherfucking chick-flick moments in this motherfucking apple-pie life!”
Sam blinked.
“Jeez, Dean. You don’t have to scream.”
Soft footsteps entered the room, an equally soft voice to match, the whole shebang, she was softness and goodness and mild and completely average from head-to-toe, this wife of his, and her eyes were glassy upon hearing how her beloved apparently got verbal diarrhea when it came to expressing his true emotions about their life.
He stared.
She sniffled.
Softly.
“Tiff, I’m sorry.”
“......”
“Dean!” Sam hissed.
The tears came then, and his wife announced that she had no idea who that was, but it certainly wasn’t her, because her name was.... was..... was.....
She had no name.
And it hit him.
He knew.
This was a dream. No, not a dream. A nightmare. Not real. His badass gal Tiff was waiting for him, somewhere, he knew it.
So that wasn’t quite true, she was likely off doing her own thing, as waiting around on Dean was her least favorite thing, and it’s one of the reasons why he was digging her, BUT NEVER MIND ALL THAT.
“Sam. Listen to me. We gotta call Nash.”
Sam frowned.
“You mean that chick who made us act all weird? No way.”
Dean’s jaw dropped.
“She’s the only one that showed up here who wasn’t under this spell or curse or whatever it is! And she gave you her phone number in case she could help - which, if you recall, she said she’d do even though she hated my guts!”
“Calm down. Take a few deep breaths, you can exhale in about ten minutes once you realize that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding ‘em.”
“How was I acting before I screamed, huh? And why are you so calm right now? Normally you’d be all weirded out and maybe concerned, instead you’re just acting like a grandma and making that tsk sound under your breath.”
“You were acting normally. We were just hanging out watching sports----”
“We were what? And our lives have been normal, since when?!”
“-----because Y/N was feeling a little under-the-weather, I mean, can you blame her? I would be, too!”
Dean turned, finding himself horrified upon seeing that the gal with no name suddenly appeared to be about 20 months pregnant, so huge he didn’t know how she wasn’t toppling over.
She bit her lip, giggled.
Dean extended a shaky arm, pointed at her.
“S-sammy.... what the s-shit is that?”
“You’re having sextuplets. What is wrong with you?”
“Give me your phone. And where the hell are we, ‘cause I’m gonna have to give her directions.”
“We’re... well, we’re.... it’s a.... you know, with a white picket fence that you and I painted this afternoon.... and there’s....”
Sam trailed off as the fog seemed to leave him.
“We should call Nash! She’s mean as a snake----”
“Now you’ve insulted snakes.”
“----but she’s escaped before, she’ll show us how, I mean, she wouldn’t be that cruel, leave us here just for kicks?”
“Oh, well, yeah. But we gotta try, so give me YOUR PHONE!”
Sam did, and Dean scrolled through all the Y/Ns and Y/N/Ns, stopping at the contact that made him sigh in relief - only to immediately grimace once he saw the number.
“What?” asked Sam.
“I know this number. It has been in my hands before. In our real lives.”
“Huh?”
“The numbers. They spell out SUC-KIT-DICK.”
“Then we’re trapped.”
Dean shook his head.
“No. Not if Nash is summoned here by whatever’s doing it in the first place. And not if she teams up with Tiff. They’ll be pissed enough to punch a hole through to hell and back.”
The brothers turned at the sound of babies crying, as Y/N had given birth without issue and no follow-up whatsoever.
“We best get sucked into another story. Any story. And fast.”
