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Dean woke to sweltering heat.
He felt like his blood was literally bubbling, ready to boil over. His skin felt thin and stiff and flaky in places. He literally felt like he was in an oven. Dean struggled to open his eyes. He was lying flat on his back, and when his eyes finally opened, he was looking straight up at the ceiling. The ceiling looked suspiciously like the heating coils of an oven.
Dean tried to move his body, his arms, anything but his eyes, but he found he couldn’t. He was trapped. Moving his eyes around in their sockets, Dean took in the rest of his surroundings. Everything was cast in a bright red glow. Behind and on either side, he only saw dark walls. But when he looked straight ahead, he could see a semi-transparent window, and, more importantly, he could see his reflection.
He was no longer a human-shaped person. All he could see now was a round pan with a golden-brown crust. And two eyeballs.
Dean was a pie.
OK, he thought to himself, he’s been in weirder situations. Well, maybe not weirder, but definitely worse situations. He could survive this.
Suddenly, a beeping noise caught his attention. He was done.
The oven door opened, and a familiar face came into view. Cas.
Oven mitt-covered hands reached in and pulled Dean from the oven.
“Cas,” Dean tried to call out, but he couldn’t speak. The pie filling bubbled.
He was set gently on a cooling rack, as Cas looked on lovingly at his golden-brown crust.
“Perfect!” Castiel exclaimed. “This pie will taste delightful.”
Dean just bubbled even harder. He couldn’t let Cas cut into him. He couldn’t let Cas EAT him!
“I must go find Jack while the pie cools,” Cas said to himself. “He will want a piece as soon as he can have it. Oh! And we’ll need ice cream, too.”
Castiel hummed as he walked out of the kitchen. Dean looked around frantically, trying to figure out what to do next. If he could push himself off the counter, he might not survive, but surely that would be better than being EATEN. Determined, Dean put all of his focus into moving the heavy glass pie pan that was his current prison. With each passing second that he couldn’t move toward his destination, Dean was at more and more risk of death by (maybe?) cannibalism. Finally, he felt himself move. YES! He could do this! Each push towards the edge of the counter took an insane amount of effort, but he was almost there.
One more push, he just needed one more inch. Dean heard two sets of footsteps drawing closer and closer. Castiel and Jack were in the kitchen now, but Dean was already going over the ledge.
He heard Jack scream and Cas cry out, he saw their horrified faces as he tipped over. He was falling. Nothing could stop him now.
The floor came into view for the first time. He was falling fast. He braced himself for impact. And then…
Dean woke with a choked-out scream. Next to him, Cas gasped as he, too, was woken up.
“Dean, are you okay?”
Dean panted, trying to get his heart rate and breathing under control. “Yeah, yeah, Cas, I’m fine. Just,” he shook his head trying to clear it. “Just a really weird dream.”
Cas rubbed his back, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Dean laughed breathlessly. “It’s so silly. I was a pie, Cas. You baked me and I was a PIE.”