Imagine: The List
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What My Muses Do Without Me
by Alexian Harris.

Sam stomped into the cheesy, yet somehow cheery motel room he and his brother were squatting in that night. For some reason, someone had painted the walls a cheery, sunny yellow and had even drawn smiley faces around the overhead lights. It was a bit creepy, but being demon hunters they'd seen worse than this room on the scale of all evil.

"Did you banish it or did you *banish* it?" Dean asked, looking up from his research for their next hunt. It had been a simple ghost, something Sam could easily do on his own. There was something bigger coming and he was having to resort to actual, dusty books on obscure things and dirty thoughts.

"No, I banished it and it was freaky, Dean. I mean, I had to go all the way to *Latin*. I had to *Latin* the ghost!" Dean gave him a funny look. "I couldn't suck it into me to send it off with the super psychic orgasm, I couldn't suck it in to talk to it even. I couldn't banish it with any of my other skills. At all. The demon acted like I'm twelve again and I still have a gag reflex. You know this has to mean something. This is the second one this month."

"It's probably just a head cold or something, Sammy. Nothing to worry about," Dean quipped with a smile. "We all know your skills are just as good as mine in the hunting down and dropping demons back into hell. After all, they even voted us some of the best hunters there are. Even some demons voted us the ones they wanted to banish them."

Sam sat down with a pouty, sulky look. "No, I think it's something more serious. Something felt really wrong when I tried to suck the ghost in. Like there was someone watching."

"You're hallucinating. Take a sleeping pill so you don't get a vision tonight and get some actual sleep."

"What if it's an apocalypse? I mean, we are fighting for the side of light. We are exceptionally *gifted* when it comes to the hunting down and putting them down into hell again business. It could be a higher power that's saying you have to do things the traditional way to save everyone."

"No!" Dean scoffed. "It's nothing, Sammy. You're imagining things."

Sam pointed. "Not really." Dean looked at the guy in the doorway. "Who are you and why do you feel creepy like I should try to suck you in?"

"I'm the Angel Castiel," he said with a smirk. "And you're right, your powers being on the blink mean it's an apocalypse."

Dean shut the book with a thump and put it aside on the LSD nightmare of a bedspread. "You mean we can't use any of our special gifts? I can't entice them. Sammy can't suck them in to banish them? Because that really helps with the visions. And hey, even him reading Latin is enough to usually get most demons hot enough to make a mistake and then have to leave."

"I got voted the most hot Latin reader," Sam said happily. "Three years running."

Dean nodded. "Knocked Dad out of the running completely. He sulked for days."

Castiel looked at them. "No, the Lord has abandoned his creation and the demons are trying to break the seals so Lucifer will rise."

"Dude, I've never slept with a Lord of All Evil," Dean said, considering it. "How much would it take to topple him back into hell? The lower ones all it takes is some ab flashing or some teasing. You nearly had to suck one off to banish him though and he was higher," Dean reminded Sam.

"Yeah, I remember. He stunk too. I was so grossed out."

Castiel shook his head. "There will be none of those gifts this time," Castiel said. "The Lord likes his workers to be celibate."

"That's gotta suck," Dean said, shuddering. "Celibate? Not even masturbation?" Castiel shook his head. "Dude, that's just *wrong*! How are you supposed to get anything done with all that building up inside you? You've got to let it out sometime!"

"Maybe that's why they're saints?" Sam said dryly. "Though I have to say, my usual gifts work just as well on coeds as they do on demons so it can't be totally gone. I mean the one girl at Stanford heard me reading a war poem in Latin for an English class, just muttering it in the library, and she came so hard they had to bring her out by ambulance."

"In a library?" Dean complained. "That is not the place for that activity, Samuel Winchester. I taught you better than that."

"I was reading it for the English paper," Sam defended. "I had to deconstruct, theorize, and then add in historical facts that might have made it allegorical instead of historical."

"That's a lot of brain power," Dean said with a small shudder.

Sam shrugged. "It was *Stanford*, Dean. Of course the classes are hard. It's not a football school. We graduate lawyers and doctors." He looked at the angel. "You guys are so screwed if you can't get screwed. You can't Latin every demon and you can't really kill the rest with just weapons. It only banishes them."

Castiel shook his head. "Even banishing might help. The problem is that your powers are leading you astray."

"Well, there was that one girl named Astrid who was possessed," Dean admitted, thinking about it. "The demon was a lot better than she was when I was screwing it out of her."

Castiel huffed. "That gift is now suspended." Both brothers glared at him. "We have to do this the Lord's way."

"Because he's watching?" Dean asked dryly. "You said he abandoned us so what would he care?"

"He would. I assure you he would and the other angels would as well." He stared at him. "Can we get on with it so we can stop Lucifer from coming up and taking over the earth? Then you two can get back to screwing the demons out of people?"

"I only suck them in and then get off to send them back to hell," Sam pouted. "It's not fair Dean gets to do all the exorcisms and I get stuck with the Latin gift."

"Hey, a gift is a gift," Dean said, calling his father's phone. Voicemail. "Dad, call now. It's an emergency. Like a literal one." He hung up and within five minutes their father was calling.

"What emergency, Dean?" John growled.

Sam grinned at the phone. "Hi, Dad."

"Hi, Sam. What emergency."

"Do you remember your last apocalypse?" Dean asked.

"Not really. I had a hell of a concussion and had to drink tequila to do what I needed to do to end the demon threat. Why? Is there the signs of one coming up?"

"Yeah. There's a lot of one," Sam admitted. "What would happen if an angel came down to tell you Lucifer was about to rise and God had abandoned us?"

"I'd beat your ass for whatever drugs you're taking," John said dryly. "And you wouldn't enjoy it either."

"Because there's one here telling us just that," Dean finished sarcastically. "His name's Castiel."

"The Angel of Thursdays?" John demanded.

"Yes, John Winchester, I was sent to help guide these two so they help us stop the apocalypse. Especially since their gifts are leading them slightly astray."

"They are not!" Sam complained.

"Sam, your demon taint is growing," Castiel said. "Each time you take one into you, it grows a bit more."

"I purged it like a bulimic, dude," Sam said happily. "Just mentally puked it right out of my head."

"It still taints your soul," Castiel told him. "Which is why your powers were suspended."

"And get this, Dad. Angels, they don't get none," Dean said dryly. "He expects us to be *celibate*. Not even masturbate."

"That will kill you both," John said. "That's why I had to drink tequila during the last one. Meet me somewhere, with him if possible, so we can go over everything."

"Yup, go see Bobby?" Sam asked with a happy grin.

"You're too old for him to bounce on his knee," John said firmly.

"Fine."

"Dean, take the angel and go see Bobby. I'll be there within a week to get the information from him. Bobby and his books of many naughty things will know exactly what to do about all that." He hung up.

Dean smirked at the angel. "So, up for a road trip?"

"I have never been on a road trip."

"Well, then we gotta fix that," Dean quipped. "Sammy, pack. Let me rearrange the backseat since your ass pillow is still back there."

"You're the one who made me sleep in the car because you had *twins* in," Sam said dryly. "If I don't use it, my ass gets too flat. Then what'll happen to it. It might sag, Dean."

"Yeah, you never know and that'd be a shame. Much harder to attract all the evil bitches that come for you," Dean agreed. He went down to shift things around. Sam packed all their stuff. They got the angel into the car and drove off in a rash of Metallica and dust.

Sam turned around to look at their passenger. "So, how bad is the apocalypse looking? I mean, is it a total end of the earth, the end of all life on all planets sort, or just a really bad, we'll end up with ten percent left sort?"

"The sort to end all life."

"Hey, Dean, did you hear about that poor hunter in Oregon that got knocked up by that witch?"

"Yeah, poor guy."

The angel moaned and shuddered. "That is against the way Creation was done," Castiel complained.

"Hey, talk to the witch," Dean quipped. "She apparently wanted him that way. I'm just glad for once it wasn't Sammy."

"Me too. It'd take me years to get my body back into good enough shape to use it to hunt."

Dean nodded. "Not to mention a little kid traveling with us all the time. That'd drive us nuts and definitely cut down on our hunting time."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, it would. We'd have to answer all sorts of awkward questions."

"I remember when you asked Dad why he was wearing the really tight jeans to go deer hunting when you were five."

"I was worried he'd be too uncomfortable and scare it off so we'd starve," Sam defended.

"I remember and then you caught him *reading Latin* to the demon."

"Yeah, I think he was proud when I chimed in with the proper response and the demon proved he was a pervert too. Dad so kicked his ass and he went back to hell moaning there were two of us now. Thankfully my voice dropped because I sounded like one of those boys in the Vatican choir for years."

"Yeah, you did," Dean agreed with a smirk for his little brother. "Sometimes you still do. I like how your voice drops whenever you go into Latin."

"Is it always about that topic with you two?"

"How else are you supposed to hunt? Just with guns?" Sam snorted. "If you do that it leaves them able to come back easier. And then you've got problems because you become the hunted one. That's gotten a lot of hunters dead a lot sooner than they should have been. Sexually hunting them is easier for those who have the skills and the need. Plus it works better. Most of the demons don't come back for years and definitely don't want to hunt us down. We've even had some that hunted us down to try us to see if they could beat us."

"Of course, they lost," Dean quipped with a smug look at his brother. "You do draw evil bitches very well, Sammy."

"Yes, I do," he said proudly.

"That's not the way it's supposed to be done," Castiel said.

"No, but that's the way it works best."

"But the Lord would not like that," Castiel said.

"Yes, but we live in the shadows, not the light, because the evil bitches live there too," Dean pointed out.

"It's been years since I had a tan," Sam said, shaking his head.

"Nap, Sammy. There's enough protections on the car you won't get a vision."

Sam nodded, pulling his ass pillow out to sit on and then he pulled up a fleece throw he kept under the seat. He curled against the window and fell asleep to the loud music.

Dean smiled at his little brother. "Are the visions going to keep coming?" he asked more quietly.

"Are they not useful?"

"Yes but they're also warping him and killing his brain. I don't want to lose him to that."

"If we cannot stop this plan, you'll lose him to hell."

Dean snorted. "Sammy or I go to hell and we'd take over, Castiel. They can't resist us and whatever you did to partially block his powers would be gone then."

"Both of your powers were blocked."

"Dude, I can still get hard so therefore I can still banish. Sammy can still read Latin in that voice that gets people hot. So therefore we can still send them to hell, even if we can't suck them in." He shot him a smug look. "You can't block those."

Castiel sent up a prayer to the higher demons about him losing his sanity. He was surely going to be lost after this battle.

***

Bobby Singer looked up as the Impala pulled into his yard. "Boys.... Who's that?" he asked.

"That's Archangel Castiel, who wants us to just hunt with guns and thinks he's suspended our powers," Sam said dryly. "Apparently his sort are going to start something."

Dean got out. "Dad said he's showing up soon, Bobby."

Bobby looked them over. Tight jeans, tighter t-shirts. Sam's floppy hair. They looked normal enough. They all walked through the devils trap he had inscribed in the grass of his yard. So not demons. "Blocked how?"

"I can't suck in spirits," Sam said.

"It was tainting you toward Evil, Samuel," Castiel said again.

Sam looked at him, giving him the bitchy face. "You'd rather we had to let them go home in a way that meant they could come back quickly?" Castiel scowled. Sam stared back. "Because I'd rather they're trapped for a few generations instead of being able to turn around and come back within days sometimes."

Dean nodded. "Depending on if they have to be summoned and if they have a cult that would automatically bring them back. We've seen two that showed up four hours later to taunt us when we used those methods. Using the harder ones are worse on the hunter and the demon." He looked at Bobby, who smiled. They got Castiel inside and Bobby got him some truth serum in his water. So they could calmly and rationally talk.

***
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