Disclaimer : Supernatural and Star Trek are properties of other people who aren't me.

TIMELINES EXPLANATION : This fic begins immediately after Supernatural Season 7 (leviathan finale) and between Star Trek: DS9 episodes 2.19 and 2.20 (just before the introduction of the Maquis). Some of the events mentioned in the Star Trek universe had to be shifted about in order to accommodate the actual and SPN events of the early twenty first century.

"Did you really think you could trump me?"

That smug son of a bitch thought he'd won. "Honestly?" Dean asked, pulling a second bone from his jacket. "No."

Castiel pulled the leviathan leader's head back and the hunter plunged the sanctified weapon into Dick Roman's neck. The pained gurgles and choking noises he made were incredibly satisfying. "Figured we'd have to catch you off guard," Dean smirked as Sam and Kevin ran into the room.

The purgatory native snarled horribly, his face distorting into a multitude of teeth and a long, serpentine tongue. Then it was back to those stolen features, the black goop that passed for leviathan blood streaming down his nose. Pulsating waves of energy emanated from Roman's body, accelerating as he died.

The bastard smiled before exploding. A shockwave hit Dean. Agony ripped through his body before it thankfully shut down.

Intruder alert… Intruder alert…

Get them inside, quickly!

Sir, one of them just… disappeared!

Well this one is dying, so I don't care about someone who I can't even see. Come on, you and you: grab his arms and legs and carry him onto that table there. He's just lucky he appeared right in front of the infirmary. And shut off that damn alert!

Doctor, what's going on?

Commander, two humans just appeared out of nowhere on the Promenade. I need to care for one of them right away.

I'll send a security detail down immediately.

There's something oddly familiar about the way this one's dressed but I just can't put a finger on it…

The first thing Dean Winchester realized when he opened his eyes was that he was lying naked on his back on one of the most uncomfortable beds in existence. That and he somehow felt healthier than he had in years which, after a lifetime of greasy food, alcohol, and being shot, stabbed, and pummeled numerous times, just didn't make any sense. He sat up and stared at his surroundings, nonplussed.

Everything was shiny and gray. Things were incomprehensively bleeping and humming and little orange displays were running lists on the walls. The back of one woman dressed in some kind of blue and brown uniform was facing him from a separate room.

At least it wasn't Hell. Or Heaven. Or Purgatory.

Maybe it was Purgatory.

Dean nearly screamed when someone placed a hand on his shoulder. When he turned, a man of East Indian descent wearing a blue and black pantsuit was hovering over him waving a cell phone around his body. "Easy now," he said in a cultured English accent. "You've been asleep for nearly twenty-four hours."

"Uh, okay," the hunter managed.

"I'm Dr. Bashir. I've been watching over you since you arrived. You had an extensive number of old injuries along with the burns that came from that corrosive black liquid you were covered in. We managed to correct a number of bones that had been set unprofessionally, cleared your liver of the onset of alcoholic hepatitis, and cleansed your coronary arteries of a remarkable amount of plaque."

"Thanks?"

Dr. Bashir put the cell phone onto a table that had several other weird devices on it. "I'll need to notify the commander you've awoken. Can you tell me your name?"

Dean had a conundrum. His normal modus operandi was to lie, especially since that havoc wreaked by the leviathans in his and Sammy's skins a few months prior. Then again, if he was in a military facility (commander of what?) then they were going to find out his identity pretty quickly through the federal database. He settled for something in between. "Uh, Dean. Dean Smith."

"Can you tell me how you got here, Dean Smith?"

"Not a goddamn clue. And where is 'here'?"

"You're currently on the space station Deep Space 9 near Bajor." The doctor blinked at Dean's blank expression. "In the Alpha Quadrant? Near the wormhole? The former Cardassian outpost?"

With each question, the hunter became more and more agitated. None of the words the doctor said made any sense. Maybe the leviathan had knocked him into crazytown and the words were being garbled? Maybe the doctor was speaking in Hindu or something? Maybe the lady in the blue and brown uniform that had just approached had some kind of skin deformity between her eyes?

Then Dean zeroed in on the two words that did make sense. That couldn't make sense. That if they were part of "sense" then Dick had dicked him over in ways he couldn't even begin to fathom.

"Did you say… space station?"

Author's Note : Hi, and thanks for reading! This idea came about after reading the most awesome Buffy/Star Trek: TNG crossover fic Legend by ShayneT. DS9 has always been my favorite Star Trek franchise (with TNG a close second) and Supernatural is just full of awesomeness so I'm hoping this works out. I'm hoping I can mix a bit of humor and drama just like both of these shows are so well at doing. The storyline will follow DS9's but definitely with some changes. Now if I could only figure out how to squeeze Q in here…