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Notes: I wrote this for MPreg Day, even though it's late, cause I was out of town, and didn't KNOW it was MPreg Day until I stumbled upon people posting for it.  It's just a snippet really, because I want to be able to say some day in the future 'I have never written an m-preg STORY'... so... snippet

Also.  I don't like M-Preg stories.  I don't.  (I do, however, totally support it if people want to write it, and do NOT support, at all, assholes who decide to get up in people's faces about the fics that are labeled something that they know they don't like, but read anyway.)  But never let it be said that I don't have a sense of humor, or that I have the ability to pass up the good crack.  And since I've only seen SV and SGA stories with M-Preg in my, admittedly, paltry perusal of the f'list, I thought I'd skew the Supernatural way.  (If only because, hey, dude... supernatural... devil's baby... could happen)

[ a serious case of wtf ]
by kHo



"No.  Seriously.  Sammy."


"You're seeing this right?"

Dean stepped up close to the mirror, like maybe if he got close enough he'd see that the mound where his tummy used to be was actually, in fact, just a bug bite. Spider, maybe.  He lifted up his shirt and frowned at the mirror.  Stupid, truth-telling mirror!  "I'm going to kill myself."

Sam stood over his sh oulder, staring wide-eyed at his tummy's reflection.  "It's um.  It's not that bad."

"Dude, I've got a god damned basketball down there!"

Sam's mouth twisted on a smirk and Dean vowed right then and there to knock his teeth so far back in his throat he'd be eating enamel for a week.  "It's um.  Really, I'm sure there's an explanation."

"Okay, but first, I'm going to kill myself," Dean said, reaching tentatively down and touching his stomach.  Because hey, maybe it's just gas.  Except, gas doesn't usually kick when you poke at it.  "Put a shotgun to my head and blow my brains out."

"Hm," Sam said, flicking his eyes up to look at Dean.  "I don't know."

Dean glared at him.  "You don't know what, Sam?!"

Sam looked at him, face stricken.  "I mean.  I"m sure it's... nothing.  I'm sure it's just some weird kind of... something.  That we can explain, and... ya know.  Get rid of."


"But if it's not, that's a baby in there," Sam said, pointing at Dean's tummy.  "And that's my nephew or my niece and..."

"Oh my god."


"You're pulling that card on me," Dean said, whirling arond to glare at him.  "You're pulling the emotion card on me?!"

Sam frowned.  "I'd make a good uncle.  And you'd make a great dad, Dean.  You know you would."

"Yeah," Dean said, gritting his teeth.  "But first i have to fuck a woman, and she has to carry our completely fucking human baby that we conceived in a natural way for nine months!"  His hands flailed and he knocked over the cheap vase sitting on top of the dresser.  "Which, by the way, what the fuck?!  Cause I went to sleep last night and my stomach was completely flat, I even had a nice six-pack going, and now I'm at least five months along!"

"More like seven," Sam said, his eyes widening when Dean glared at him.  "What?!  I read!"

"I'm not having a baby, Sammy.  I'm not.  I'll... I'll... dude, where are the coat hangers?"



"Woah," Sam said, backing up and holding his hands up.  "Chill, Dean, you were having a nightmare."

Dean sat up and his hands immediately flew to his stomach.  Rucking up his shirt he looked down at his toned and flat stomach and ran his fingers over the muscles.  "Oh.  Thank.  Christ."

"What the hell," Sam asked, sitting on the edge of Dean's ed and handing him a glass of water.

Dean frowned.  "You're an asshole."

Sam's frown deepened.  "What the hell?"

"If I want to have an abortion, that is my right, okay!  And you, little brother, will support me," he said, jabbing a finger into Sam's chest.

Sam's eyebrows rose about a foot off his head.  "Uh.  Okay."

Dean continued to frown at him and worriedly rubbed at his tummy, making sure there was no bulging, no bloating, and no, no, and no again, no kicking.  "Just so that's understood."

Sam just frowned at him some more and then stood up.  "Whatver you say, Dean.  Uh. Get some sleep, okay?"

"Yeah, well," Dean said, falling back on the bed and punching his pillow.  "You try waking up pregnant."

Sam froze in the middle of fluffing his pillow.  "Do what now?"

"Nothing," Dean groused, turning his back on Sam.

"Geez, what is it?  Your time of the month?"

Dean's hand shot out and the pillow flew to hit Sam directly between the eyes.  "Never.  Say.  That. To. Me. Again.  NEVER."

Sam's hands spread and he nodded his head, very slowly.  "Whatever you say, Dean."

Dean fell asleep to the sound of Sam laughing.