Title:Who's on First?Crossover of "Wing Verse" and "Incubus"

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Dean, Sam, and Castiel belong to Mr. Kripcke and Co. at the CW. Sasha and "Incubus" are Crimson1's beautiful creations and "Wing Verse" is all done by the fabulous SavingFaith333.

Pairing: Dean/Cas, Sam, Dean/Sasha

Author's Note: This is a crossover between "Wing Verse" and "Incubus". The story opens just as the first chapter of Arc 12 in Incubus ends. There is a bunch of time manipulation but stick with me, people. It will all make sense.


The Trickster was fuming. Not only had that ungrateful little human rejected his help in the fight, he'd actually welcomed that damned, evil angel with open arms and ushered in the end of the world as the demi-god knew it. And on top of that, the sniveling monkey had tried to eject him from the premises with a snide flick of his new-found powerful fingers.

Well, that was not happening. This demi-god had not survived eons of time with dwindling worshippers and an ever shrinking power base to be oh-so-casually tossed aside when victory was within reach. No sirree. If Deano didn't want his help, he could see what it'd be like with his interference.

Ahhhh. How to best mess up Dean Winchester's life. Well, can't do anything that might actually help that damnable demon Malak to win. Nope. That would be a bad idea of biblical proportions. The Trickster thought for all of two seconds before a wicked grin split his ordinary face. Now this would be payback. He'd have to wait until the exact right moment but…. He almost felt like cackling. This was the trick of a lifetime and one worthy of someone of his caliber. With an ever-widening grin, he snapped his fingers.


Bamf! No other word really could describe it as Castiel brought them all back to the Roadhouse to prepare for Malak's final assault. Dean, Sasha, Sam, Iain, and Sarah all blinked in confusion a bit, trying to get their bearings. Jimmy felt dazed as Castiel left his body again but none the worse for wear, taking Iain's hand in his with a smile.

Sasha and Sam held on to Dean, refusing to lose contact with him for even an instant. After the last two days of putting up with Malak and Dean fused together, they held on to the real, solid, 100% Dean for dear life. The site outside the Roadhouse was awe-inspiring. Thousands upon thousands of troops were assembled, ready to hear whatever Dean had to say, ready to do whatever he asked. Dean gripped Sam and Sasha back tightly, willing energy and strength from their connection.

After Dean greeted and talked to the assembled troops, to all the humans and angels and fae that had been gathered on the Roadhouse periphery, they stumbled inside. There hadn't been a lot of sleep for any of them in the past twenty-four hours and everyone felt punchy and exhausted. With little more than mumbled "goodnights" everyone separated and headed for the rooms that had become theirs over the past few weeks. Some rest would do them all a world of good.

Despite how tired Dean was, this next part would be the easiest thing he'd done all day. He shut their bedroom door and wrapped his arms around Sasha neck, pulling him close. Oh, to feel that real connection again, with none of Malak's disgusting taint between them. They held each other, simply breathing in the other's scent and closeness for the first time in what felt like weeks.

"I'm so epically glad you figured this one out, baby," he murmured into Sasha's neck.

Sasha groaned, taking Dean's face his hands and kissing him for all he was worth. "There you are," he whispered, breath ghosting over Dean's lips. "I missed you."

"I was always here," Dean replied.

Sasha just looked at him for a moment. "But now you're all here, 100% back." He smiled and shook his head to clear any lasting images of the Dean/Malak mixture.

"And," Dean started walking back towards their bed, pulling his belt off and toeing off his shoes, "I'm all yours." He grinned and leaned back on the bed, half propped up on his forearms.

Sasha laughed and cocked his head. "I think I might actually be starving."

"Last night wasn't enough for you?" Dean smirked.

"Baby, last night wasn't anything at all," Sasha scoffed. He crawled on top of Dean, licking up his neck to whisper in his ear, "The devil's got nothing on you and I need you now."


Sasha pulled himself from groggy unconsciousness. His sluggish mind registered that his arms were draped over a firm body curled tightly against his own, his breath against a warm neck. Slow as his brain felt, he snuggled closer and inhaled the scent of…Dean? The body in his arms murmured and pressed back against him, drawing a stifled groan from Sasha. Well, it wasn't like this was the first time he'd dreamt of Dean and after all, dreams could be very realistic. Right?

He pressed a kiss to the back of Dean's neck, mouthing along its length until he could bite gently on his ear. Dean murmured louder, something that sounded like Sasha and wrapped a strong arm around the back of Sasha's head, pulling him into a deep kiss. Now this was a dream that a person could really get into. Dean's body arching into his, Dean's lips begging him for more, Dean's hands pulling him closer. It was just so real and immediate and it was taking Sasha's breath away. The intense connection, the love behind the passion coming from Dean would be enough to keep Sasha fed for several months. He'd never felt anything like it in first person. Closest he'd ever come to something this amazing was piggybacking on the connection outside the door of Dean and his beloved Cas.

But this was all for Sasha. In this dream, Dean was his and his alone. Marked. Sasha could feel the connection, the circuit binding them, felt like drowning in it, all this passion. He'd heard about connections like this. Knew his parents probably had this once. But something whispered in Sasha very distracted brain. Something wasn't right. This was too real. Too intense. Dean gasping out his name, begging for harder, faster, more, Sasha.

It felt like agony pulling back from that. There was no way this was a dream. This connection was too damn solid and severing it was sharp and painful, too real. Oh, god, it hurt to cut it off so abruptly. And there was no way in hell that Dean would really be asking for this, wanting this from him. Not outside of Sasha's pathetic dreams anyway.

On that cheerful thought, Sasha pulled away so hard he fell off the bed, landing with a painful thud and nearly knocking the wind out himself.

"What the hell, babe?" Dean's concerned face poked over the side of the bed. Sasha lay there panting, blinking, trying to clear his head of the sheer lust pounding in his veins. Dean's concern melted into a small smirk. "Your incubus is showing."

"What?" Sasha glanced down at himself in a panic. He still looked mostly human, just a little change in his hands and then he caught his reflection in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. Red eyes and fangs. Jesus! He could have hurt Dean. "I'm sorry," he breathed, glancing frantically over Dean to be sure he hadn't done any damage.

"Babe." Dean grabbed his wrist. "Sasha! You're freaking me out here. You okay?"

Sasha just stared at him. Dean actually looked really worried. What the fuck was going on?


Sasha rolled over in bed, arm reaching for Dean only to meet with cold, empty space where a warm body should be. What the hell? He sat up, yawning and rubbing the last of the grogginess of sleep from his eyes. He glanced around in confusion. Where the fuck was he? This was definitely not his and Dean's room. And from the faded wallpaper on the walls and the dusty knick-knacks all over, there was no way this was the Roadhouse either. Kinda looked like Bobby's house. Hadn't Castiel bamfed them out of here last night?

He stood up, noticing that he had slept in jeans but that was definitely the least of the weird things at the moment. He threw on the first clean shirt he found and the shoes on the floor. He glanced around one last time to see if there was anything that might explain this odd situation. This was starting to really give him the creeps. Very Twilight Zone.

He went out into the hallway, hoping to find someone to explain just what the fuck he was doing here. He heard murmured voices of people talking downstairs. Cautiously, he crept down the long flight of stairs, wanting to get a look at whoever it was before they saw him. Maybe it would help clear things up. Halfway down he froze when two sets of eyes swiveled to look at him.

"You alright there, man?" Dean seemed totally relaxed, like this wasn't the wierdest fucking thing in the world. He and Sam were sitting in Bobby's living room, a mess of books open around them like they were in the middle of some massive research project for a hunt. And Dean looked…well… for lack of a better word, terrible. He looked tired, drawn, scruffy but not sexy-scruffy. More like worn-out and exhausted with no time to shave scruffy. Seriously, how long had Sasha been asleep?

He shook his head to clear it. "Man, how long was I out?" He finished walking down the stairs and into the room. He must have passed out something fierce after that last epic sexathon. How had they managed to get him to Bobby's without waking him? He walked up behind Dean and bent over him, kissing his neck. "Morning," he murmured. Better do something to fix this. Dean looked like he needed some serious TLC.

"The hell?" Dean jerked away.

Sasha blinked. What was that? Dean actually looked annoyed. Maybe he was dreaming. It was starting to feel like one of those dreams where you end up onstage in front of an audience in a play you've never heard of with no rehearsal and you don't know any of the lines. He looked around. "Where's Bobby at?" he asked, glancing back at the brothers, yawning.

Sam looked like he couldn't decide whether to puke or to hit Sasha. Dean looked slightly shocked and worried. "Come again?" Dean asked, now starting to look a little pissed as well.

Sasha sat down heavily on a chair. "Um… Bobby. This is his house. We bamfed outta here last night and..." He smiled hesitantly at their identical looks of confusion and worry. Sam still looked slightly sick. "Guys? You're freaking me out."

"What the hell are you talking about? Are you drunk or something?" Dean almost growled.

"Drunk? No!" Sasha scrubbed at his face. If this was a dream, than it was a damn realistic one. Crappy one too. "I don't understand what's going on. How'd I get here?" He looked back a Dean. "And since when do you flinch when I kiss you?"

Dean looked completely floored. "Since when do you kiss me?"

Sasha stared at him. What the fuck was going on?


"Sasha?" Dean was waiting for some sort of answer.

"Yeah," he replied finally, laying on the ground and putting his arm over his face in an effort to cover the confusion. "I'm fine. Just a really weird dream."

"Seriously musta been," Dean huffed. The covers rustled on the bed. "You comin' back up here or what?"

Sasha froze. Damn tempting offer but not a good idea at all. He needed to think, to clear his head and have a private freak out moment. "Um…think I just need a shower. Clear my head or something." He rolled over and got to his feet. He had an urge to cover up his very naked self but realized that in this bizzarro world he was now inhabiting, Dean had apparently been there, seen that. And speaking of naked…. No! He wasn't going to look. Just focus on the open bathroom door.

"Sure you're okay?" Dean asked, still sounding concerned.

Sasha waved a hand at him as he entered the bathroom. "I'm good." After closing the door to the unfamiliar bathroom and turning on the water for a shower, Sasha sagged against the sink. This was real. Really real. Dean was real, this bathroom was real, this odd, messed up version of reality was real. No way could his subconscious come up with something this tangible.

And no demon, monster or apocalyptic moment had scared him as much as this one. Because if this was real than he was either 1) crazy or 2) lost. As in Lost in Space. He snickered at that reference, his snicker threatening to become hysterical giggling. Get it together! But after all the other shit he'd been through recently…

A shower. A shower and clean clothes and breakfast and coffee and then he could find out more about where here was and how to get back home to reality and out of la-la land. The water pressure in this bathroom was light years ahead of Bobby's old place and oh, but did that do wonders for his tensed up shoulders. Steam filled the bathroom as Sasha closed his eyes and just soaked in the warmth. It was clearing his head of all that need. He knew he'd probably have to feed sooner rather than later after this morning's wake-up.

A cold blast of air hit his legs as someone opened the shower curtain and stepped in behind him. Sasha took a deep breath and willed himself not to turn around. Two arms snaked around his waist and pulled him back against a solid body. "Figured if I left you to shower alone I was risking missing out on all the hot water," Dean snarked, soaping up Sasha's chest.

"I'm good. I...just," Sasha tried to reply but those hands. And that connection between them. This was every fantasy, wish and wet dream he'd had about Dean all rolled into one. Here he was getting the naked, willing, passionate Dean and it was all for him, all directed at him, all Sasha's and Sasha's alone. He leaned back into Dean, keeping his eyes closed and let Dean have his way. Whatever was going on here, Dean obviously cared about him. And Sasha was hungry. He could tell him after this, after breakfast, after he could think straight again. Right?


"What the hell is going on here?" Sasha demanded, standing up.

"The fuck's going on with you?" Dean fired back, tossing the book he was still holding to the floor.

"I wake up in Bobby's house and I have no idea how I got here from the Roadhouse where I was when I went to bed last night and your acting all jumpy and twitchy around me and Sam's got that kicked puppy expression..." he cut off mid-rant at their identical looks of horrified confusion. "Uh...what?" he ended lamely, sitting down again. This couldn't be good.

Dean cleared his throat and leaned his elbows on his knees, rubbing his hand over his jaw. "For starters, you haven't been to the Roadhouse because the place burned to the ground years ago. Second, you went to sleep here last night, upstairs in your room. Third, bringing up Bobby like the guy didn't get torn to bits by Lucifer mere months ago would by why Sam's making with the kicked-puppy-gonna-puke look, and last but certainly not least," Dean's voice got louder and rougher, "You are apparently insane since you know all of this shit already!" Dean was practically growling by now. He looked absolutely furious. "You know better than to bring up Bobby like that! What's wrong with you, damn it?"

"Dean, calm down." Sam's voice was quiet but calm. He still looked a bit pale but more than anything he looked concerned. "Sasha, want to try that again?"

Sasha took a slow breath, glancing between the two brothers. Now he could feel it. Or more to the point, couldn't feel it. That last piece that had been bugging him in the back of his head. He looked at Dean. "When you said 'since when do we kiss', you meant that? We really don't...?" he trailed off miserably.

Dean shook his head, his anger fading and the worried expression returning.

"I can't feel it. Feel you. I should be able to but I don't." Sasha's bit his lip. He could feel panic building in his gut. "This isn't right. You're...we're..."

"Hey. Just start over and walk us through it." Sam was looking at him, radiating concern and encouragement and it was more than Sasha could handle. He buried his head in his hands. This was the worst dream ever.

After another slow breath, he started talking.


Breakfast was waiting, actually waiting for them when the two men finally managed to stumble down the stairs. Sam and some pretty brunette were sitting at a table with Jo eating eggs, fruit, sausage, coffee and toast. Looks like this place offered the works. Sasha could practically feel Dean start salivating at the smell of coffee and greasy food.

"Morning," Sam said. "Thought you two were never getting up." There was a grin on his face that made Sasha a bit uncomfortable. Did everyone know what just happened upstairs? Sasha's head felt like it was floating away between the endorphins still buzzing through him from all that magnificent sex and with trying to come to grips with this new reality of his. Dean looked like he just might fall over any second. Sasha bit his lip. Had he taken too much from Dean?

Dean grunted, sat, and poured a tall mug of coffee, sighing in near ecstasy as he took a long gulp. Two guys walked in and Sasha, busy piling things on his plate, didn't really notice who it was until they sat down. He looked up and right into the startlingly blue eyes of one Castiel, Angel Extraordinaire. He froze with his fork halfway to his mouth.

"Hey man, you okay?" the Castiel look-a-like asked.

Sasha blinked and purposefully put the fork into his mouth so he didn't have to answer that. His eyes widened in surprise. Castiel was eating. Eating! With relish and gusto and was that actually a donut?

"You planning on swallowing your food or just hoping it absorbs?" the skinny, good-looking guy said on his right. Sasha swallowed the lump of food in his throat.

"You two were supposed to get some sleep last night," Jo said, accusation in her voice. "Dean, you look like you going to fall over in your food and Sasha is so out of it I'd swear he was stoned." Everyone laughed and Dean smirked at her. Still laughing she asked, "Seriously, Sasha, how much did you take?" He glanced guiltily at Dean.

"Nothin' a little coffee can't cure," Dean retorted. "And we slept. Some. The Big Bad Incubus here had a crazy dream and he's been dopey every since."

Sasha chucked a piece of toast in Dean's direction, almost smiling despite the blush on his face. He couldn't help himself. After all those weeks spent with Dean and Sam trying to defeat Lucifer, propping them up as they sagged under the weight of all that horrible responsibility, Sasha dying and being dragged back to life, watching Dean from a distance as he tore himself apart looking for Castiel after that final battle, his Cas. After all that angst and pain and longing, here was Dean laughing, playful and wanting him, wanting Sasha. It was in every pore and fiber of Dean's being. Topping it off was the fact that a version of Castiel was sitting right next to Dean and that did not seem to be an issue.

Huh.

Sasha kept eating, staying quiet and listening to the chatter around him, hoping to figure things out a bit more. He noticed that Sam kept looking at him, curiosity in his expression. Not entirely sure what that was about he'd smile back at Sam and join in when he could with the breakfast banter. Apparently, Castiel was really named Jimmy and the tall, skinny kid was Iain. Sarah was the pretty brunette and obviously into Sam. Interesting. So Sam was happy and contentedly hooked up here in this lovely reality.

And Dean was Sasha's.

Still wrapping his head around that one.

There seemed to a major fight or something on the horizon but for the moment they were just eating and relaxing. Jo was still Jo and Sasha sincerely hoped that Ellen was around somewhere but was too nervous to ask. Might give himself away. That wasn't something he wanted to do just yet. Not until he knew a bit more.

"Better a' saved somethin' for us old types!" a gruff voice stated just behind Sasha and he whirled in his chair, almost sloshing his coffee in the process.

Bobby!

Bobby fucking Singer was standing in the doorway!

There was a crash and a jumble of voices and Sasha finally heard Dean calling his name. He came back to himself and realized that he was standing, staring at Bobby. There was glass on the floor where he'd dropped the coffee mug. Dean's hand was on his shoulder and everyone was looking at him with mixed expressions of confusion and concern.

"I..." he started. Clearing his throat he continued. "The dream I had, Bobby was dead, long dead and everything was so…different and…" He shook his head a bit and took a breath. "I'm fine. Sorry."

"You sure?" Dean asked, gripping his shoulder. Sasha nodded and looked around for a towel. Sarah walked up and handed him one.

"Here. I'll help," she said, smiling softly.

"Thanks. Sorry." She just smiled again.

"Explains why you looked like you'd seen a ghost," Bobby said, patting Sasha on the back as he walked past.

People went back to their food, the mess was cleaned up, and Sasha decided that for whatever it was worth, this version of events was starting to seem a bit…well…heavenly. Everyone seemed alive and well and happy, despite the upcoming battle. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he'd been whammied by a djinn. He sat back down, content for the moment to watch everyone laugh and joke. Dean reached over and laced his fingers through Sasha's. Yup. This was the life!


"When I went to bed last night, I was at the Roadhouse. I was in mine and Dean's room, in our bed." Sasha ignored Dean's grunt of protest. "We'd just finished tricking Malak outta Dean and.... We were exhausted and planned on sleeping but," he stopped. He couldn't look up. He could feel how still the brothers were, waiting for his explanation to continue.

"We were in our room, Sam and Sarah were in theirs, Iain and Jimmy and Jo and Ellen were all in their own rooms. Everyone was beyond tired and so glad it was finally over. Well, over for the moment anyway." He swallowed. Keep going. Nothing for it now but to finish. "Bobby was there too. Alive and well and…just Bobby. Even Wally…" He stood up abruptly, pacing around the small living room space. "I don't understand this! Any of this!"

"So…like a really vivid dream or something?" Dean started to ask.

"No! Reality. This is the dream!" Sasha fired back. "And I'm not crazy! I'm not!" he added vehemently at the looks the two were giving him.

"Okay. So, in this version of reality you and Dean are…a couple. Bobby's alive," Sam's voice sounded strained. "I'm with someone named Sarah. Who are Jimmy and Iain?"

"Who's Malak?" Dean added.

Sasha sighed. "Iain's this library guy who takes care of all sorts of books on demon lore, mythology, and other stuff. He got mixed up with us when his mother got killed by a demon. Jimmy's Castiel's vessel.

"Thought his name was Ryan," Dean interjected.

Sasha brow wrinkled in confusion. "Um, you probably don't even believe in angels in this… whatever the hell this dream or reality is, but Castiel was this angel who…"

"We know Castiel," Dean said shortly. "We know all about the angels. Thanks."

Sam gave Dean a look. "You were saying?" he prompted.

Sasha licked his lips, appraising Dean's now sour mood. "Malak is another name for Lucifer. He was the one who…man, this gets really complicated," he said, dragging his hand through his crazy red hair.

"Just tell us," Sam insisted quietly.

"Before I met you guys, Dean had made a deal to bring Sam back from the dead. They were hunting for the demon who held his contract so he could maybe find a safe way out of it. Turns out that Malak held the damn contract and Dean managed to renegotiate. If we caught all the demons let out at the Devil's Gate, Dean walked free."

Sasha paused. He stared out the dusty window at the lot full of rusting cars. "We almost did it too. Caught and sent a hundred demons back to hell in just four months. But there was a catch. Always a fucking catch. There was one thing let out of that gate that didn't occur to anyone." He looked back at the brothers. "John Winchester. So Malak won and Dean got sent to hell. I couldn't…I just couldn't let that be the end so I made my own deal." He consciously relaxed the tension in his hands, uncurling the fists he'd made.

Sasha walked back to the chair and sat down. "Any of this ringing a bell?" he asked hopefully. Sam and Dean both shook their heads, eyes wide, waiting for him to continue. Sasha sagged a bit. "If I gave up my ability to turn someone into an incubus, gave up the idea of spending immortality with you... with Dean, then Dean would only be gone for seven days. I took the deal but I didn't know that hell has its own time schedule. He was there a lot longer than seven damn days and had Malak's personal attention the whole time," Sasha spat out bitterly.

Dean shifted uncomfortably on the chair in front of him and Sasha really didn't want to continue but since they needed to believe him, what other option did he have? "We got Dean back, exactly seven days later, on the stroke of midnight. But the fucker had tricked him, made him think that he hadn't gone to hell. That hell was really reality. He did that by being us, being me and Sam and making us break Dean." Sasha swallowed. It still made him want to puke when he thought about it. He sighed again. This story sucked. "Asshole'd infected Dean or something. He wasn't himself. We didn't know how to… I didn't know how to help him. But I knew he was still in there, underneath everything. I wouldn't let that go. We got him back eventually, all restored and normal but now we had an impending apocalypse on our hands. Turns out that Dean was the potential Anti-Christ all the time and that Sam was suppose to be his General. There were angels and demons and fae and humans and everybody all mixed up in it. Even Dave," he said, nearly chuckling to himself at the thought.

"Uh, Dave?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, Dean met some guy named Dave who straightened him out and helped him overcome Malak. Turned out to be God. Dean preferred to think of him as Dave. Freaked him out less."

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "Oh."

"Man, this is fucking weird, talking to you guys about this like we didn't live through this whole damn thing together." Sasha scrubbed his hands over his face. He felt tired, despite having just fed last night. And thinking about that was all sorts of excruciating right now.

"You said that you guys defeated Malak, right?" Sam said, nudging the painful story along.

"Yeah, I mean, no. We tricked him. I mean… well…Dean accepted Malak but only to buy us the time we needed to get our reinforcements ready."

"Okaaaay," Dean said, reaching for the long-forgotten beer on the side table, taking a swig. "Now that I am officially confused."


Everyone seemed to have things to do after breakfast, places to be. To his relief Sasha seemed to be assigned to clean-up duty with Jo. This was something he could handle without messing anything up. Cleaning dishes and wiping up messes was easy, brainless work. And Jo always prattled on with very little prompting making this an awesome opportunity to sleuth out some facts.

"So, Jo," he started as he rinsed dishes for the dishwasher. "Sorry I didn't let Dean sleep enough. He was so tired after…" he trailed off hoping she'd fill him in.

"Course he was, idiot. I mean, letting the devil walk around wearing you while managing to keep yourself intact has gotta be exhausting!" She shook her head and let out an enormous sigh, leaning against the counter. "I am so very, very glad it was all part of the Master Plan. " She looked up at Sasha with tears in her eyes. "I actually thought we'd lost him. Mom thought it too." She sniffed and briskly wiped her eyes.

Sasha realized he'd been cleaning the same dish for awhile now. He set it down and picked up another. "I'm glad too," he said quietly. Not exactly sure what he was going to do with that confusing and out-of-context information but at least it was something. The devil possessing Dean? What the fuck?

Jo threw her arms around Sasha and squeezed. "And you and Sam are okay and not evil and this is all just so much better than I thought things would be yesterday." She released him and tossed the towel at his head. "You finish up. I gotta help organize lunch for the multitudes." And off Jo pranced, leaving a very confused incubus standing by the sink, dripping water on the floor.

Okay. So what did he know? Castiel wasn't an angel but some dude named Jimmy. Bobby was alive and well. There had just been some sort of battle or something, apparently against the devil himself and Dean had been possessed. By the devil. He and Sam, or some version of himself and Sam, had been nearly evil too but they followed some sort of plan that seemed to have saved the day.

And he and Dean were a couple.

This was not enough freaking information to go on. There was no way that people, that Dean, wouldn't figure out he was a fake. Sasha ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. If there was no way to fudge his way through this, then he'd have to come clean.

Damn it!


Dean lifted the beer to his lips but apparently decided he needed something with a bit more kick. He took out the silver flask from his jacket and took a long swig. "Okay," he rasped, coughing a bit on the sharp burning liquid. "Let me get this straight. In this imaginary universe of yours," he gave a sharp look at Sam's cry of protest, "Lucifer held my contract and created a hell where you and Sam tortured me into breaking. I then had to chose the devil three times, which I actually fucking did, by the way. I gave up you and Sammy and Bobby and friends and family and heaven and earth as I know it, just to have the power to save everyone?"

"To have the chance to, yeah," Sasha replied quietly, miserably. Dean handed him the flask and he took a long pull. "You…he did it too. That last time when he chose Malak, the deal was only binding if Sam and I chose Dean back. He trusted we'd figure it out and trap Malak, choosing the real Dean instead. I still can't believe we really managed to actually trick the son of a bitch. We were all set to win, had our reinforcements and everything ready to go. All we needed was some sleep and then I ended up…here." Sasha sounded like he felt, utterly lost. "I'm telling the truth. I swear."

Sam roused himself from some deep, pensive place he'd been during Sasha's explanation. "We believe you. And we'll figure out what happened."

Dean snorted. "Sounds like a frickin' nasty ass djinn to me."

"Couldn't be," Sasha said. "Djinn can't affect an incubus." He stretched, yawning until his jaw cracked. "Man, I need a shower and something to eat." He looked over at the brothers.

"Oh," Sam said a bit startled. "Guess you probably know where everything is. Help yourself to whatever."

"Thanks." Sasha went back to the room he woke up in (he was not going to call it his room), grabbed some stuff, and finally closed the bathroom door in relief. He needed a break from those curious expressions, from not being able to feel any connection to Dean, from not even feeling Sam. There was just this emptiness where there should be strong bonds. He took a deep breath. There was a way through this. He'd gotten through Dean being in hell, survived Dean after hell, come back from the dead thanks to Castiel, and even overcome Malak possessing, no, infecting Dean. They survived an astounding array of obstacles in the last year and this too was just another damn obstacle. Well, fuck obstacles! He was getting back to his world, his home, his Dean.


Sasha walked out of the kitchen heading for the main dining room. People were everywhere, hustling about their preparations for the upcoming showdown. With the devil. There was no sign of Dean in the main room, the porch, the kitchens or upstairs. Sasha could feel that he was here but not where exactly. He headed back down the hall towards the library and Iain's room. Maybe Iain or Jimmy would know where Dean was at.

The door was partially open and he could hear Sam and Dean talking. Eavesdropping was so wrong but…

"Something's off, man," Sam was saying.

"I know. You only said it like ten times now," Dean retorted.

"Sam's right." So Jimmy was in the room too. Sasha held his breath to hear what Dean would say. "Sasha's different."

"Different how? Be specific. We're talking about Sasha, the love-of-my-freakin'-life-Sasha."

Someone shuffled his feet. Probably Jimmy. Dean could be intense when he was pissed off. "He looks different. I mean, he looks the same with the red hair and everything. Still like Sasha, mostly. Just different," Jimmy trailed off lamely.

"It's like he's a brother or something. Like a twin of Sasha. He feels…almost the same. Just off a little bit," Sam added. "And add in the weird behavior. I mean, he looked at Bobby like he hadn't known Bobby was real. And he just stared at Jimmy like he'd never seen him before."

Sasha couldn't listen to this. If Dean actually defended him… No. He needed to come clean. He didn't want Dean under false pretenses. No matter how amazing those fucking pretenses were. False was false. Sasha walked into the room.


Sasha was halfway through a sandwich when Sam dropped down into a chair next to him at the kitchen table.

"So, here's what I found so far," he started, launching into a lengthy and convoluted description of physics laws and theoretical principles that sounded to Sasha like nothing more than an episode of LOST. Or maybe Quantum Leap.

"Um, you really got all that while I was in the shower?" he asked, mouth still full of sandwich.

Sam looked up from his notes, surprised. "Yeah. Research is sort of what I do…" he trailed of as Sasha started snickering. "What?"

"Sorry. Just that I would have expected something a bit more, well, supernatural."

Dean walked in, still looking tired, rumpled and scruffy, and rolled his eyes at Sam's notes.

"You want?" Sasha held up the other half of the sandwich to Dean. Once again, Dean's eyebrows crawled up to his hairline as he shook his head. Sasha wasn't quite sure what to do with that response. He started to take another bite but didn't really feel like eating anymore. Sighing, he tossed the unfinished part onto the plate. "I take it things were different here in your version. Are we even friends?"

Dean looked surprised at that. "Yeah, 'course we are. Just not hungry is all. And you don't usually split your food with me." He joined them at the table. "You're…Sasha is actually one of the few people I really trust. Kinda the best friend I have." He scratched absently at his newly-forming beard.

"Why would you think this has to have some sort of supernatural cause? I mean, you said it, a djinn could do this but not to you. You're an incubus." Sam looked like he was pouting.

Sasha almost grinned. "Awww, Sam. I wasn't doubting the logic. Just figured since all the other shit this year has been demonically related, this has to be too. It's got to be Malak somehow." Now he was sure his appetite was gone.

"Didn't you say that Malak was Lucifer?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, we kicked ol' Lucy's ass recently with the help of Cas… Castiel," he amended with some effort. "Wouldn't that mean that Malak is kinda dead?"

Sam shook his head slowly. "No, no I don't think so." He stopped and stared at his notes, lost in thought.

Dean and Sasha exchanged glances. "Okay," Dean said, "I'll bite. Why not?"

"Because there is more than one Castiel, meaning more than one of the same angel, meaning more than one of the heavenly host, which means…." Sam trailed off, leading the other two.

"That there's more than one Lucifer," Sasha gasped. "Shit!"

"Right. So. A djinn didn't do this, it's not looking like its scientifically possible, and we know that there is another Lucifer who has it out for Dean, your Dean, and would probably use you as a way to get to him."

"But how the hell does this get to him?" Sasha replied. "Besides, the other times all he had to do was threaten mine or Sam's life, start killing the people Dean loves and Dean would…" Sasha stopped. "No, Dean didn't. I was dead and Dean still said no to Malak that time."

"Wait. I thought he said yes." Dean looked all sorts of confused.

"It's complicated, I know. Dean had to choose Malak three times. Number one was in hell when he chose what he thought was Sam but was Malak."

"Fucking cheater!" Dean growled.

"Duh. He's the devil," Sam replied.

Sasha continued and counted the points off on his fingers. "Two was when he chose to leave us behind, really leave and not come back. And three was when he chose Malak's power over the entire army getting annihilated and hell coming to earth. Between two and three, I got shot and died and Malak told Dean he'd bring me back if Dean said yes."

"But he said no," Sam said quietly.

"Shot and dead! How the hell does a gunshot kill you? You're a damn incubus," Dean countered.

Oh, yeah, right. Sasha had forgotten to tell them that part. "I was human at the time," he said a bit sheepishly.

"And I reply, huh?" Dean snarked back.

"Dean and I got switched. Remember my deal with Malak? Can't turn Dean into an incubus anymore?" The boys nodded. "Well, we got switched and Dean was the incubus and I was the human."

"Not much of a change for Dean," Sam quipped. A piece of unfinished sandwich smacked him on the side of the head.

Dean hadn't so much a glanced at Sam when he'd launched the reflexive sandwich missile. "Switched? That would take some serious mojo to do that. What pulled that one off?"

"The Trickster. Who else? He swapped us as a way to mess with Malak. Dean had to be human for Malak's plans to work so an incubus Dean was no good to him. Trickster figured that he was being super duper helpful. Malak gets screwed and I'm out of my deal." Sasha noticed that he definitely had both of the brothers' full attention. "What? Sandwich on my face or something?"

"Did you say the Trickster?" Dean's voice was quiet, menacing.