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I Dean of Genie	By : rae_roberts Category: Supernatural > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2234 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Supernatural, nor do I own any rights to either Disney's Aladdin or I Dream of Genie, which I have heavily ripped off for this fic. No money is being made from this silly little fic.

Chapter List
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“You know, the longer you leave him in there, the more pissed he’s going to be,” Charlie said.
“I guess so.” Sam’s expression was skeptical as he uncorked the bottle. Music played, faint and tinny like a far off merry-go-round. “Is that…Metallica?”
“Rub the bottle!” Charlie demanded.
Sam did, and the purple smoke streamed back out into the room, coalescing into human form.
“Sammy?” Dean stared at his brother in shock. “Charlie? I-- I thought you were in Oz,” he stammered.
Sam and Charlie exchanged a worried look. Dean swayed on his feet, overcome with emotion as the memories of his time as a demon came back to him.   The weeks of drinking and debauchery with Crowley. The people he’d hurt without a second thought. Sam’s botched attempt to cure him. His escape from the bunker…
Dean felt heat building behind his eyes, the sudden threat of tears.   He’d tried to kill Sam! Hell, within the past hour he’d tried to proposition Charlie, one of his closest friends, a woman he loved like a little sister. No. Bile rose in his throat. He’d done worse than that. He’d wanted to rape her. To hurt and humiliate her. To torture and murder his own brother.
“Oh god, Sammy! I’m so sorry.”
“Shh, it’s okay.” Sam pulled him into a hug. “It wasn’t you. Not really. You weren’t yourself.”
Dean let himself cling to his brother for a long moment, letting Sam’s love and forgiveness wash over him. When he pulled away, he turned to Charlie, though he couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes.
“You too, kiddo. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for--”    The attempted apology cut off in a grunt when she flung herself into his arms.
“I forgive you. Duh!” And then Charlie pulled back, laughing as she snatched his turban and put it on, settling it at a jaunty angle.
“Huh?” Dean gaped at the purple silk monstrosity on Charlie’s head. A gemstone was centered on the front, anchoring a jaunty turquoise plume. Sam cracked up as Dean looked down at himself, naked to the waist… And from there it only got worse. “Son of a--” He crossed his arms and blinked, banishing the gaudy harem pants and slippers, replacing them with his own familiar clothes. Clearly, this business of materializing out of smoke was going to take some practice.
“So, what? You couldn’t cure me, so you turned me into… A genie?”
Sam had the good grace to look sheepish as he nodded. “It was the only thing I could come up with, when curing you didn’t work. Charlie managed to track down the binding spell--”
“But we had to get the bottle from Crowley,” she supplied, ignoring the look Sam gave her.
Dean realized his brother was still tense. Sam held onto the bottle as if his life depended on it. “Crowley was in on this, too?” Dean blurted. “But why? I thought him and demon me were best buds.”
Sam shook his head. “Crowley realized you were out of control. He jumped at the chance to help, before you caught on that he couldn’t stop you from doing whatever you wanted.”
“And let me guess… In exchange for the bottle, Crowley took the First Blade.”
Sam winced. “Yeah.”
“We didn’t have any choice,” Charlie broke in. “Making genie bottles, it’s a lost art. We’re just lucky Crowley had a demon who remembered how to do it.”
“So now I’m a genie,” Dean said. He flopped down onto one of the sagging twin beds, still taking it all in.
“‘Phenomenal cosmic powers’,” Charlie quoted, grinning.
“‘Itty-bitty living space’,” Dean concluded, rolling his eyes at the bottle still clenched in Sam’s big fist. “What?” he demanded at Sam’s expression. “Yeah, I saw Aladdin. It was a date, Sammy! She picked the movie. Anyway,” Dean went on quickly, “Let’s do this.”
“Do what?”
“Your three wishes, ‘Master’,” Dean said sarcastically. As if! “I grant you two wishes, you use your third wish to set me free. Just like in Aladdin.”
“We don’t even know if you can grant wishes,” Sam cautioned, but Dean scoffed.
“Dude. I can grant wishes.” Dean turned to Charlie where she sat on the other bed. After a moment of thought, he folded his arms, blinked, and a sword appeared on the threadbare rust-orange bedspread next to her.
She gasped in delight, reverently drawing the blade from the scabbard. “This is Anduril,” Charlie breathed.
“From Lord of the Rings?” Sam asked.
“Yeah. Aragorn’s sword,” she nodded happily.    “Reforged from Narsil, the Blade That Was Broken.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Nerds,” he said fondly. He grunted as Charlie flung herself across the space between the beds and enveloped him in an enthusiastic hug.
“Thank you! That’s the most kickass movie replica I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s no replica,” Dean scoffed. “That’s an original. The ‘hero’ prop made for Viggo Mortensen to use during close-up scenes,” he added, beaming. It felt good to grant Charlie this minor ‘wish’, unofficial as it was.
Sam’s brow furrowed. “How do you even know all that?”
Dean frowned as he considered for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just… Really good now at knowing what people want.”    It was true, Dean realized. Without even consciously trying, he could call to mind any number of material things that his brother wanted. The usual necessities like food and ammo, but also deeper, more personal desires. Books on a range of topics (none of them related to the supernatural). Art supplies. A pet dog. Simple things, but largely out of reach because of the life they led. Dean stopped the flow of information with a conscious effort and a pang of sadness. “Make a wish, Sammy,” he growled.
“Okay. I wish--”
“Make sure it’s not a lame one,” Dean broke in.
Sam looked affronted. “Dude. I’m not stupid. I wish for the First Blade, in a demon, angel, and genie-proof box,” he added smoothly.
Dean felt a rush of pleasure even as he scowled at his brother’s last words. “Genie-proof? Wow. Really feeling the love, there, Sammy,” he said as he crossed his arms. With a blink, a curse box materialized on the table beside Sam.
“That’s incredible,” Sam murmured.
“Go on, open it, make sure it’s legit.”
Sam shook his head at his brother’s belligerent tone. “I trust you,” he said simply.
“Yeah? Then get on with it. Make your second wish, and then wish me free,” Dean demanded.
“It’s not that simple, Dean.” Sam’s voice was strained. Charlie looked up from admiring Anduril, her eyes darting between the two brothers with a mix of sympathy and worry.
“We barely know anything about genies,” she murmured. “Disney isn’t exactly a primary source.”
“What are you saying, Sammy? You’re going to keep me in a bottle? Make me be your slave?”
“No! That’s not what I want, Dean! Turning you into a genie was a last resort, don’t you get it?”
“Then set me free!”
“You’ve still got the Mark of Cain. That alone makes you immortal. Unstoppable,” Sam said, gesturing to the edge of the Mark visible below the turned up cuff of Dean’s sleeve. “And now…”
“‘Phenomenal cosmic powers’,” Charlie said apologetically.
“So you don’t trust me. That’s just great, Sam.” Dean stood up, fists clenched, anger and betrayal surging through his veins, even though, in the back of his mind, he knew it wasn’t fair. The genie part of him could feel what his brother wanted so desperately, and it was only to keep him safe.
The Winchester part of him just wanted to slam a fist into his little brother’s jaw. “I need a drink.” He strode over to the door and wrenched it open.
“Dean. I think you should stay here,” Sam said carefully.
He whirled around. “Is that an order, ‘Master’? Back into the bottle?” Dean stalked back into the room, spoiling for a fight, but as he approached Sam the lower portion of his body began to transform into smoke. The tail end of the distinctively bow-legged cloud began to narrow and stream toward the neck of the bottle. Sam’s knuckles were white as he gripped the stopper. Dean gave him a look of pure fury, but he couldn’t defy his brother’s will.   Sam and Charlie watched as he dissolved into the stream of smoke and flowed back into the bottle.
Sam pushed in the cork and breathed a sigh, mingled regret and relief. “That went well,” he said dryly.
“He’s your brother,” Charlie soothed. “He’ll come around. He will,” she insisted when Sam just sighed again.

“I hope so,” Sam said, “but you don’t know Dean like I do.”
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I Dean of Genie