Title: Don’t Stop Believing!
Word Count: 1644
Summary: When the Trickster sent Sam and Dean on their tour of TV Land, there was one more stop on the itinerary. Worse than anything they encountered before. The boys are back in high school, and if that’s not bad enough, they have to sing as well! Yes folks, it’s a Supernatural-Glee crossover.
Disclaimer: I solemnly swear I own neither Supernatural nor Glee. But I think the crossroads demon is weakening. After all he offered me twenty minutes with Dean, just to stop me singing Glee’s greatest hits at him (I may be onto a winner here).
Notes: Once again this was inspired by the theme of the week challenge on dean_sam , and this week it was Changing Channels. So as I sat listening to my Glee CD, I was hit over the head by a bunny with a bloody big carrot, and this was the result. Now beta’d by the awesome bigj52 , who did this while on holiday, and on her sick bed the poor girl. I salute her bravery in the face of my ramblings, and can never thank her enough.
“No more, please Sam! I can’t take much more of this. I’m ready to let Michael take me for a joy ride, just to stop my ears bleeding.” Dean was wild eyed, his fists clenching and unclenching. Sam watched his big brother, his brow furrowed with worry; they were being bamfed from TV show to show. The trickster was doing this to them in an attempt to get them to play their roles in the big smack down.
So far they had managed to cope quite well; they’d survived a medical drama. Sam could’ve happily done without the unscheduled surgery on a bullet wound in Dean’s back. Then there had been the Japanese game show from hell; Sam shifted slightly in his seat at a twinge of phantom pain. The sit com hadn’t been too bad, apart from the wallpaper giving him and Dean a migraine. Ok, he might never get over the herpes commercial. More importantly, he didn’t think Dean would ever let him live that one down. He recalled the delighted grin on Dean’s face when he’d reminded Sam to play his role like he’d suggested. That had nearly caused him to hurl the basketball right at the back of his brother’s head.
But this was going too far, even for the trickster. “Calm down, dude, think of your blood pressure.” Sam winced as he heard Dean grinding his teeth; if he ground them any harder, he’d be picking shards of tooth out of his hair. Sam gently rested his hand on Dean’s shoulder; he flinched at the tension he felt beneath his palm. Dean’s fight or flight instinct was working overtime. At this rate the next person who came close would find themselves being served with a Dean Winchester knuckle sandwich, with extra knuckle.
“Come on, dude! Are we just gonna sit here and allow that kind of abuse? It’s just too fuckin’ cruel.” Dean begged his brother for help.
“Winchester! I won’t tell you again.” A voice called out and Sam cringed. He gripped Dean’s arm tightly to prevent his brother from going and throttling the owner of said voice.
“If that crinkly haired, Sally sunshine don’t shut his trap, I’m gonna salt and burn his damn vest while he’s wearing it. I’m tellin ya, the dude’s possessed.” Dean glowered at the man standing in front of a group of over-excited teenagers, who were nearly as happy as their damn teacher.
Sam looked down from their seats at the back of the choir room. He’d felt like saying Christo to the man on more than one occasion. None of his high school teachers had been like this guy. Sam had been through more than enough of them to know. Then again, he’d never met anyone like the cheerleading coach. Shit! She would’ve scared the crap out of dad, and John Winchester had stared down that yellowed-eyed bastard without flinching. But Sue Sylvester? Sam shuddered at the thought of Sue with yellow eyes.
Dean nudged Sam, and brought him out of his reverie, “Listen, the next time I tell you to gank that slippery son of a bitch, we stake him on sight. I mean, come on, Sam, just what kind of sadist is he, sending us here? Did you hear what they did to Journey? Heathens, the damn lot of ‘em. And if that Rachel chick tells me one more time that I’m flat, I’ll flatten her.” Sam tried not to grin, when he heard that.
Sam groaned softly when he saw Rachel’s hand shoot up, and wave enthusiastically. Usually he had a policy of non-violence to humans, but he was coming close to making an exception for the dark-haired girl. He’d gone to her rescue, when she was about to be slushied. Instead, the football team had turned on him. He’d stood there with slushy dripping from his mysteriously reappeared bangs, when Rachael had walked up to him. “Thank you for that, Sam, it was very courageous of you. I hope you don’t mind me mentioning, but you and your brother really need to take singing lessons. As much as we appreciate your efforts, between you honking, and your brother’s growling, you two are drowning out my vocal line. And with Regionals coming up, I don’t want to strain my voice trying to be heard over you two.” Then she’d turned on her heel and walked away.
Sam heard Dean roaring with laughter, walked up to Sam and grinned. Dean looked closely at Sam, “Hmm, cherry, I prefer grape though, damn shame it wasn’t raspberry. I could’ve handed you over to the Cheerios. Sue’s told ‘em the additives in that flavour acts like speed, and helps them lose weight. I’ve seen so many blue tongues; I thought it was an Avatar convention.” With that Dean walked off, leaving Sam wishing for a salt loaded shotgun.
Now Rachel was desperately trying to attract the teacher’s attention, finally the beleaguered man acknowledged her, “Yes Rachel, what do you want to share with Glee club?”
With that Rachel catapulted to her feet, “Mr Schuester, is it true there is a talent scout for Broadway in the school? I feel that we should put on an impromptu performance for him, with me taking the lead.” Amid all the groans Sam turned to his brother who sat, shaking his head.
Dean rolled his eyes and leaned closer to Sam, “I say we get hold of a few rosaries, dump ‘em in the sprinkler tank, and set the sprinklers off. You get on the school intercom, and start with the Latin, and I’ll hold ‘em off as long as possible.” Sam laughed at Dean’s desperate suggestion.
“Dude, they’re high school kids, just what are you expecting?” Sam asked.
“Sam, have you seen some of those Cheerios? I’m ready to put my body on the line to give you the time you need. I’m an awesome big brother like that.” Sam smiled at that, and then he saw Dean go pale and sit up straighter.
“Son of a bitch! That’s it! I’m going down there and killin’ him.” Sam followed Dean’s glare - there stood the trickster next to Mr Schuster.
“Yes, you are correct, Rachael, and I’d like to introduce him to you all. This is Mr Angel, and he’s looking for fresh talent.” The trickster smiled at them.
Dean growled, “Fresh talent, my ass, the only auditions he’d hold would be for Casa Erotica twenty! And Brittany and Santana would be dead certs.” Before Dean could go stomping down to try and beat the trickster to death with a chair on principle, Sam grabbed him and held on for dear life.
“Not now, you moron, do you know what Rachel would do to you if she thought you’d killed her ticket to stardom? I swear she’d make Lilith look like Martha Stewart. Let’s see how this plays out.” Sam felt Dean’s muscles go lax, and he let out the breath he’d been holding.
The brothers felt as if they were being watched. They looked up to see the whole group staring at them, and they smiled sheepishly. “Right, now you are all paying attention, we have a little surprise for our guest.” Mr Schuester beamed at his students, and then he guided ‘Mr Angel’ to a seat.
Dean and Sam found themselves being dragged down to the front, ready to perform. Dean whispered to Sam. “Now what, dude? I can’t sing for crap, and Sasquatch, your dancing is liable to cause fatalities. Hang on. Move closer to Finn and Rachel. Then maybe we can make a break for it, after you knock their heads off when you’re busting a move.” Sam huffed at him, and rolled his eyes in annoyance.
“That’s not funny, Dean.” Sam glowered.
“Ah, come on, it’s a little funny.” Dean shot back with an unrepentant smirk. Then they manoeuvred themselves to the back of the group, and prepared to die of embarrassment.
Rachel stepped forward and started to speak, “Thank you, Mr Schuester. New Directions would like to perform a new and exciting musical mash-up. Led Zeppelin’s ‘Ramble On’ and Celine Dion’s ‘My Heart Will Go On’.”
There was the sound of a thud as a body hit the floor, Sam turned in time to see Dean collapse. He dropped to his knees, and pulled Dean into his arms. “Dude, speak to me. Come on, Dean! You can’t leave me all alone here.” Sam was terrified the shock had stopped his brother’s abused heart, once and for all.
Dean’s eyes flickered open; he looked up at Sam, horrified, “Sam, that’s it! He’s won! There’s no way I’ll survive them killing Zeppelin.” Sam nodded sadly, he was about to look up and tell the trickster he’d been successful when he realized they were no longer in a high school.
Instead they were in a desolate landscape, a ruined town and all around them was the sound of growling. Dean sat up and looked round him, puzzled, “What the fuck now?” He demanded. Sam shrugged his shoulders, and got to his feet then he hauled Dean to his feet.
They looked round then Sam caught sight of something. “Oh shit! I know where we are, Dean.” Sam’s eyes were wide with terror.
Dean spun round in the direction Sam was looking, “Oh crap! We’re in the Walking Dead, ain’t we? Shit, come on, Sam, run! I saw a gun shop up there. Move it, Sammy!” With that they took off at a desperate run. Behind them, over fifty zombies shambled in pursuit of the fresh meat which had appeared so enticingly before them. As they ran Dean laughed, they’d been saved from a fate worse than death. Zombies he could handle, but those Glee kids torturing Zeppelin? Thank god for changing the channel.