Supernatural Short Stories

The Right Dean

Warning: This does contain a minor spoiler for season 15. 

"Y/N, there's someone here," Jack whispered, shaking your shoulder, waking you up. You shot straight up, narrowly missing his forehead with your own as you automatically reached for the gun on the nightstand.

"What? Where?" You asked, trying to force your mind awake. Jack was already tugging on your hand, but you turned to the other side of the bed, instinctively trying to wake Dean. But then you remembered he and Sam had taken off late yesterday. Something about checking to make sure Jody was okay.

"Where's Cas?" You asked, keeping the gun in your hand as you followed him to the hallway.

"He left. Said he needed to talk to someone," Jack whispered, pulling you towards room 28, an unoccupied room. You could hear mumbling from behind the thick door, items falling to the ground. "But Y/N, how could someone get in? I thought this place was warded!"

You pulled him to a stop. "Jack, it's okay. Why don't you go call Cas, and I'll see what's up." Jack padded off, his socks making little sound on the tile. When he was around the corner, you took a deep breath before shoving the door open.

In your hunter's stance with the gun cocked in front of you, you strained your eyes to see what was making the noise in the darkened room. Muttered cursing could be heard, in a voice that was eerily familiar.

Your hand shaking slightly, you stepped forward, flipping the light switch on. "Dean!" you exclaimed with relief, looking at the man who lay sprawled on the floor.

As you started to lower the gun, you noticed the black dress pants instead of the faded denim. A sky blue shirt was tucked neatly into the waistband. A blue and yellow tie was knotted tightly around his neck, a pair of fancy suspenders finishing off the outfit. "Suspenders?" You whispered. "Dean, what the hell are you wearing?"

He dusted off his pants, straightened his tie before he stood up. "What do you mean? This is my normal attire for a Monday morning. And who the hell are you?"

If the suspenders weren't enough to have you concerned, Dean's lack of memory had you raising the gun again. "You're not my Dean. So I would be explaining fast before I put a bullet between those green eyes of yours."

"Your Dean?" He muttered, glancing around. "I am Dean Smith, and I seem to have lost my way. I was on my way to the office. Where am I now?"

"You're in my home. In Kansas," You answered, watching him closely as he glanced around the small room. Suddenly he bent over, putting his hands on his knees as he took in deep breaths.

"No...no..what's happening?" He asked you. "I thought it was weird waking up in this place, and now...,"

Tucking the gun in your waistband, you stepped forward, still wary. But your gut was telling you this man meant no harm. He was lost and needed your help. "Y/N, I wonder if this is a Dean from another world. Like those last ones," Jack spoke up from behind you, making you jump.

"I think you're right," you agreed. "Hey, Dean..what's the last thing you remember?"

"I remember going to sleep last night," he thought carefully. "Had a really strange dream. There was this guy Chuck. He said he was killing off worlds? He handed me this drink, and then I woke up here."

You turned to Jack, completely ignoring the new Dean for a moment. "Chuck wanted him here? Why?"

"I just want to go to work," this Dean complained. "I'm up for a promotion, and this stress is seriously throwing off this whole vibe I was working on."

Rolling your eyes, you took a deep breath. "Listen, why don't you come sit down in our Library, and we'll see if we can figure something out."

He followed you down the hallway, past your room, and into the library. "Wow, this is a crazy place you call home," he exclaimed as he sat down at one of the wooden tables. "And you said earlier, your Dean. What do you mean?"