Alright, so this functions as a one-shot, but it's technically a part of another story of mine, Brothers are Forever. I liked the idea enough (and it really can stand alone) so I'm posting it alone as well. It was supposed to be a two-part story, but it's taking forever to write XD and I was supposed to have up to the part about the Mad-Hatter in this first part, but...again, taking forever and I have to go to work...so I'm posting this part of it right now. Mostly just because I haven't posted in a few days and I like getting alerts from FF while at work. It brightens my soul. XD

Nothing really you need to know besides perhaps that it's post S6, there's a few recurring themes that are intentionally touched on several times pretty aggressively by the Wonderlandians. At this point, Dean and Sam are on a case to find a missing girl, Alice, who went missing the night Purgatory popped and they're following a rabbit they almost hit the night before. XD It's a little crazy, but I'm trying to keep the characters in story-character and SPN character...ish. XD Chuck is more like God!Chuck than Dork!Chuck though, FYI. Also, I might do some chapter clean-up later, but otherwise...should be good to go? XD So...enjoy!

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"It went this way!" Dean's footsteps pounded the forest floor, followed close behind by Sam.

"Dean, are you sure you saw-"

"It was wearing a jacket!"

The white rabbit. The one that ran in front of their car the night prior. Apparently it was here, and wearing a jacket, according to Dean.

Sam was inclined to think his brother had, at the very least, had a trick of the eyes played on him. But considering all the strange things he'd seen, he could give his brother the benefit of the doubt. And then there it was, a flash of white, the crunch of a twig, and...a rabbit, in a miniature jacket.

The rabbit stopped suddenly and seemed to disappear and as Dean and Sam approached, they noted a little hole.

"Sneaky bastard." Dean muttered as he peered down at the hole. "What do you think it was?"

"Maybe it was someone's idea of a joke?"

"Who the Hell would think a rabbit in a jacket's funny?"

"If you have a better theory, I'm all ears."

Dean shook his head mildly as if exasperated before he picked up a stick and prodded the hole a bit, and then stuck it down the hole as he tried to test it's depth. "Freakin' rabbit..." he muttered and he was about ready to abandon his little test when he felt the ground shift a bit beneath him. Next thing he knew, he was falling, and fast.

"Dean!"

Sam's voice was above him as he hurtled down into the darkness, and Sam found himself not far behind.

...

Flames. Flames bursting over his skin. His blood boiling. Eyes roasting in their sockets. A soundless scream. Hell, this was Hell, this was agony, this was torment, this was pain, this was-

"Sam! Sammy, damn you, wake up!" Dean's voice broke through Sam's haze as his eyes fluttered open and he felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him.

"Dean..?" he wheezed.

"Son of a bitch." Dean whispered as he stared down at Sam before he pulled the other up into a sitting position. "You alright?"

Sam managed a nod and he swallowed hard, that metallic taste in his mouth again. He met his brother's worried gaze a moment before he noted their surroundings. "Uh, Dean...where are we?"

It appeared to be a cave of some kind and above them was a long tunnel upwards, further than light could be seen although he was certain that up was where they'd fallen from. There was a black-and-white checkered pattern on the floor, and furniture sticking out from the walls. Spirals and other squiggling adornments were around the room and in the middle, a table with two beers and a pie.

"Good question. Don't have an answer. We fell through a hole, ended up here, and you were unconscious." And not breathing, but Dean didn't feel the need to mention that. Or the way he'd felt like his own heart had stopped with his sudden onset of anxiety. Sam's condition terrified him in a profound way, but he couldn't let the other know. He just had to keep Sam safe, that was all that mattered.

Dean rose and pulled Sam up alongside of him. There was a small door in the corner, but there was no way in Hell that they'd fit through it. Didn't appear to be any other exits either. With a frown, he made his way over to the table where a little 'drink me' sign was set by the beer, and an 'eat me' sign was set by the pie. There was also a little key. Something struck a faint chord in his memory, but he couldn't quite figure out what that was. "Hey, check it out-" Dean poked at the pie and when his finger came up covered in fruity-pie filling, he licked it away without much thought. "Still warm, y'think that means-"

Sam had been examining the room when his brother spoke, and he was too late to object when Dean lifted his finger to his lips. Dean hadn't finished speaking when he doubled over suddenly and groaned. "What the-Ugh... "

"Dean!" Sam was by his side in an instant, and that was only just enough time to watch in horror as Dean, clothes included, shrank before his eyes. And just like that, a miniaturized Dean stared up at Sam in stunned surprise from the floor.

"No friggen way..." Dean mumbled as he looked down at himself and then at the large room and his towering giant of a little brother.

Sam's face suddenly got a lot closer to his as Sam knelt down and peered at Dean with a mixture of worry and something that Dean could only describe as fascination-the bastard-and Sam gently poked his finger against Dean's chest as if to affirm that he were really there.

"Hey! Watch it!" Dean snapped as he pushed Sam's finger away, unnerved by the fact that it was almost damned bigger than he was. "What just happened?" he demanded, as if Sam might know. His voice wasn't very loud, but it carried in the quiet room enough for Sam to hear.

"You ate the pie, Dean. You're lucky it wasn't poisoned! What were you thinking?"

Dean winced. Sam's agitated voice was booming around him. And how the Hell was this lucky? "Stop shouting, Godzilla!" Sam looked a cross between faintly annoyed and apologetic as he spoke more quietly.

"Dean, I think I know what this is...sort of." his knees were hurting against the ground and he reached out a hand towards Dean who eyed it warily. "I'm gonna set you on the table, alright?"

"Like Hell I'm letting you pick me up, you freak." Dean growled, unsettled and on edge from the situation.

Sam shook his head and scooped a protesting Dean up into his palm and for a second as he rose, he just had to stop and stare at the small form seated on his palm. It was such a sudden and ludicrous situation, and moreover...it was his big brother, Dean, smaller than a doll in his hand. If he so much as squeezed to hard, Dean's little body could be crushed. The weight of his present situation was daunting and he resolved to keep close watch on the other.

"Sam!" Dean's voice was somewhat sharp and Sam noted a familiar look on Dean's small face. It was the same one he wore on the few occasions they'd ridden in an airplane.

Sam quickly, but gently, placed his brother on the table and Dean shot him a glare before he backed away from the edge and regarded his little brother. "So what the Hell's going on?"

"Well..." he hesitated and Dean lifted a brow expectantly. "You remember Alice in Wonderland?"

"Excuse me?"

"Alice in Wonderland...? Little girl follows a rabbit in a waistcoat down a hole and ends up in Wonderland?"

Realization dawned as Dean seemed to get the hint. "Yeah, I remember somethin' like that...you don't think..."

"Rabbit in a jacket...hole...magic food...the missing girl, Alice...you're the one who doesn't believe in coincidence." Sam noted.

"So what? I ate the pie and now I'm an action figure?"

"...That's one way of putting it. If you drink the beer, you should grow...in theory.." Dean was about to demand a drink, he could tell, and he continued. "But we aren't getting out of here that way." Sam pointed to the little door. "We have to be small to get through there."

"And then what? We don't know what's on the other side of that door."

"Wonderland?" Sam suggested and Dean shook his head.

"You are such a nerd."

Sam gave his brother's head a very light flick of reprisal and received a glare for his efforts. "We don't have another option. There's no other way out, and if something is coming for us down here-which is unlikely-you really want us stuck here?"

Reason and survival instinct warred with anxiety and survival instinct, but finally, begrudgingly, Dean muttered. "Fine. We'll try it your way. But stick a beer in your pocket in case. My clothes got mini with me, so maybe the beer'll get small too."

Sam was actually impressed with that reasoning and he complied as he slid a beer into his pocket before he took the key as well. He remembered the story, somewhat, and the movie vaguely-Jess' idea in a roundabout way, so he knew better than to leave it be. Sam then held out his hand beside Dean. "One more time."

Dean scowled. "You just can't wait to get your hands on me. Friggen pervert."

Sam didn't bother to dignify that with a response as he spared the waiting and scooped up his brother once more before he set him down by the door and then took a moment to smirk at the other faintly. "It must suck that your little brother always ends up bigger than you..." Just how long had it been since Sam had had to look up at Dean?

Dean's response was to flip Sam off and he allowed himself a flicker of amusement despite a grim feeling in his gut. If this really was the little girl's doing, somehow, then what was she?

And if it wasn't her...then what the Hell were they dealing with?

A few minutes and a distasteful bite of pie later, Sam found himself on more equal ground with Dean-and punched in the shoulder for good measure-and discovered that while the beer had shrunk, the key had not.

"Figures." Dean muttered before he grabbed a side of the key and Sam got the idea as he moved along the other side and hefted the key up. The pair of them lifted the key to the doorlock but as they tried to shove it in, a pair of eyes opened as a somewhat familiar voice shouted indignantly.

"Watch it, ya idjits!"

"Bobby?" Dean was rendered momentarily speechless alongside his brother, and the door scoffed.

"That ain't my name! And watch where yer pokin' that key, ya hear me?"

"Dude. I think someone slipped something in that pie." Dean tilted his stunned gaze to Sam who shook his head.

"Who just eats a random pie anyway, Yogi?" Sam muttered.

"Shut up, Sam." Dean hissed at the comical reference jab before he saw that the door appeared to be glaring at him. Being glared at by the door. That had to be a new one for the hunter records. "So...uh...Door." This was too crazy. "Are you...the door to Wonderland?"

"And if I was?" the door demanded.

Dean and Sam exchanged a glance before the pair hefted up the key again. There was only one way to go, it seemed, and before the door could object again, they shoved the key in and turned the lock.

"...That's it?"

Dean's question came after they'd gone through the door, and wound up in a large-looking garden of sorts, surrounded by plants and trees. Sure, the plants were pretty giant-sized, but otherwise...

"If this really is supposed to be Wonderland, I doubt it." In fact, knowing their luck, he doubly doubted it.

"So what now?"

"We find a way out." At a time like this, once upon a time, they might have called Castiel. But that was a no-go option now. Wherever they were, or whatever this was, they were on their own. "So start walking."

Whether Dean was having similar thoughts, he couldn't tell, but Dean didn't say anything as he and Sam walked side-by-side for a few minutes, taking in the abnormally large world around them.

In truth, Dean did note the lack of being able to call Castiel, amongst other things. He didn't like the reminder, or the unfamiliar territory. Dean was a hunter, he was used to weird, but he still liked to be in his element. He liked to be able to know what was coming and respond accordingly, to be able to fulfill his duty and protect Sammy and anyone else in his way.

Dean was broken from his thoughts as he stumbled forward suddenly, apparently tripped by a root of some kind and he grabbed onto the nearest thing to right himself: a flower.

"Oh, my word!" a huffy, irritated woman's voice came from the flower and Dean's expression was a rare one, a stricken, deer-in-the-headlights look as he jerked back and stared up at the glaring...flower? "You philandering cad!"

"Uh..."

Sam simply stared beside Dean. They'd handled all manner of supernatural baddie, celestial entity, and unholy minion...but this? This was just plain weird.

"Go! Get out! Go!" the flower shooed at Dean and when several other pairs of eyes on flowers were glaring at him, he took that as his cue.

"Sam, let's go." Dean hissed as he shoved the other forward a bit before he seemed stricken again. A flower lifted a leafy arm to pat his rear, and then winked at him. "I think a flower just...groped me. And winked at me. I just got violated by a flower."

Sometimes, his brother was ten kinds of moron but he wouldn't have him any other way. Despite their situation, he had to smirk faintly. "Probably karma. For groping that other flower."

"Bitch." Dean growled.

"Jerk." Sam was, for the brief moment, all smiles.

Levity wasn't the best approach to the situation, but damned if it wasn't nice to have five seconds of something decent. He wasn't sure what they were going to do, for starters, he didn't even know where they were. Short of say, the Trickster or an angel, who could do this to them? And since both options were unlikely, actually-one was impossible since the Trickster a.k.a. Gabriel was dead, so who had done it?

A flash of white ahead of them was their indicator that the rabbit was indeed here.

"Sam, the rabbit!" Dean shot his brother a 'hurry your ass up' glance and then took off. The rabbit was the only 'familiar' thing so far. The rabbit had taken them to this world, sort of, and perhaps he could get them out.

Dean could barely keep up as he caught little glimpses of white here and there. But the little rabbit was damned quick and soon he lost track of it all together.

Only to find a house instead.

Dean stopped his run and eyed the house before him as Sam ran up alongside of him. "Dean?"

"The rabbit got away, but check it out." he tilted his head in the direction of the house.

"Worth looking into." He wasn't sure if they could find someone who could actually help, but it was the best lead they had at the moment.

Dean headed up to the door, followed behind by Sam. He knocked once, twice, and at the third knock, the door simply opened. Dean cast a wary glance in before exchanging a glance with Sam, and then heading in with a shrug. "Hello? Anyone here?" he called out, and when he received no response, he started to head further in until he heard someone call out-

"The menage a douze* isn't until tomorrow, you twit! Honestly, as if I didn't have enough to do."

Dean and Sam exchanged a glance. That voice...

A hurried-man in a jacket emerged and cast them an annoyed glance. A man with a beeping wrist-watch, and a set of rabbit's ears from his head.

"Balthazar?"

The man didn't seem to hear as he muttered to himself and went moving about.

"Hey...Hey!" Dean, annoyed, placed himself in front of the other as he grabbed his shoulder and forced the man to look at him. "Where the Hell have you been? And what's with the ears?" They had never ascertained for certain that Balthazar had died, though they'd suspected it when attempts to summon him had failed. But apparently, here he was. Maybe this was another alternate world he'd transported them to?

"Oh, fine! You want an advance on your payment? Here!"

Something was shoved into Dean's mouth and he had the familiar, sweet taste of chocolate in his mouth before he swallowed instictively and then cursed. He didn't want to risk eating anything in this world again. "You ass-" but 'Balthazar' had already disappeared into the hallway and Dean clutched his stomach.

"Ugh...Sammy, I think I'm..."

"Not again!"

"Not my fault!" Dean gritted out before his eyes widened as his hand seemed to inflate before his eyes. Next thing he knew, the rest of his body was following suit and growing larger. "Shit! Sam! Make it stop!"

"What do you want me to do? Wave my magic wand?" Sam snarked in reply, mostly out of agitation for his brother's sake. He looked around desperately, but there was no 'eat me' or 'drink me' to help out, and the beer in his pocket was for growing-definitely not helpful now. He should have taken some pie, apparently.

Dean stumbled back and ended up fallen on his rump as he continued growing, now towering over Sam for the first time in years.

Sam had to back away, lest he be crushed by his growing brother.

"What do I do?" Dean's had nowhere to go and as he kept growing, he was forced to thrust his large arms out the windows, and his legs likewise, rather making a mess of the house and breaking it in the process. His head literally raised the roof, and for the second time he wore a rare, stricken look.

"Just...uh...hold on! I'll find something!" Sam called up to Dean and he saw the other wince as he tried to pull his arm free, stuck fast in the wall slash window.

"You broke my bloody house!" an outraged voice called out from below, not far from Sam in what small moving space remained. "You hairless ape! I'm late enough as it is, and you go and wreck my house!" Rabbit-Balthazar looked up in outrage and it became clear that whoever this was, it wasn't the real Balthazar. So what was the deal?

Sam approached the other cautiously. "Do you have anything that will shrink him?"

"Oh! As if this isn't enough damage?"

"You're the one that gave me the damned chocolate!" Dean's voice boomed overhead. He could hear their conversation and fully blamed the Rabbit-Balthazar for the situation.

Rabbit-Balthazar winced. "Fine! Fine! Have it your way! As if I knew you'd be such a prat...you are officially off of the list." he headed over to a dresser as he squeezed past Dean's leg and began rummaging around.

Sam watched before he looked to Dean and gave him a comforting pat on his large leg, litle good that it did. "Just hold on, alright?"

"Not like I have a choice." Dean snapped back, and he winced again as he tried to tug his arms away to no avail.

Sam chose to be sympathetic rather than annoyed, and as the rabbit produced a carrot, he accepted it with a frown up at his brother. "Only one way to do this, I guess..." he slipped the carrot into his pocket and began trying to climb onto Dean.

"Hey! What do you think you're doin', Sammy?"

"You can't move your arms, so I'll have to feed it to you. Pain in the ass." Sam added the last bit in a mutter that the over-sized Dean didn't hear. But he wasn't really calling the other that so much as commenting on the situation. Mostly.

Dean's expression spoke volumes of his displeasure at being climbed on and fed to, the situation in general-really, but he didn't protest and watched as Sam pulled himself up Dean's leg and then up his shirt until he could reach Dean's mouth. He opened wide and Sam hurled the carrot in, and he gulped it down in one swallow. There didn't seem to be any affect for a moment, until in a sudden whoosh Dean's limps shot back into himself and Sam found himself meeting the ground in a sudden, mildly painful fall. "Dean?"

"Son of a bitch!" Dean seemed tempted to use his favored phrase quite often in the present situation. He was again 'action-figure' sized [as compared even to the shrunken state they'd previously been in] as he glared up at Sam.

Sam was too exasperated to really be amused at this point. "Let's agree: no more eating things in this world."

"He shoved it in my mouth!" Dean protested, innocent this time at least, and Sam simply shook his head in reply as he undid the top of the beer and poured a bit into the cap where it would be more easily drunk by Dean. A few small sips later, he found himself growing again [and his clothes along with him still, thankfully] and wound up at a proper size.

Rabbit Balthazar had already left, apparently once he'd provided the carrot he felt that his duty was done. So be it. "Better?"

Dean gave a slightly shaken nod. "We just got here and I already hate this place. And what's with that Balthazar-looking thing? It wasn't a demon." he brushed himself off with a frown.

"Not sure. Last I checked, missing angels weren't part of the original story."

A flash of black hair outside, a quick glimmer of blue eyes, and Alice was running again. "The girl! Alice-she's here!" If anyone could help them find their way out of this weird-ass world, it was her, right? Something to look for at any rate, and he took off after her.

"Dean, hold on a second!" but Sam's protests were in vain as Dean darted swiftly after the little girl.

"Hey! Alice! Girl!" he added that last bit in case she didn't respond to 'Alice' for some reason. Definitely something eerie about the girl. Maybe she was a special case, like Jesse?

Dean didn't stop running until he realized that he was short one little brother.

"Sam?" he called out, but there was no response. The trees seemed of regular size, despite the odd plants, but he still felt disconcerted. There was light, but he couldn't see the sky at all, so how did that make sense? The trees were thick and and there wasn't a single sound around him...except for a cough?

"Sam?" Dean pushed past a bit of brush and side-stepped a tree to end up back in the path of the more garden-like area, and as he pushed past a few towering blades of grass...

He found a scruffily beared man dressed in an extravagant, multi-colored silk suit perched atop a mushroom smoking from a hookah pipe and spewing rainbow-colored smoke.

Dean stared at the man. "...Chuck?"

...

"Dean? Damnit, Dean!" Sam shouted loudly, but there wasn't even an echo back. Great. Trapped in 'Wonderland' not five minutes and Dean had already gotten himself lost, or was it Sam that had gotten lost? Either way, the circumstances weren't exactly stellar.

Trees surrounded him and he didn't realize he'd long since past the point of being able to see something other than trees a good ways back. Which direction had he run from, again? Sam turned in a full circle, but everything appeared just the same.

"How doth the little Samuel, solve each and every case? Is it perhaps his cleverness, or just his scary face?" A chuckle.

Sam froze. That voice, that obnoxious, faintly taunting, all-too familiar voice. A voice he hadn't thought to hear again.

"Gabriel?" Sam turned to find a man before him, Gabriel-or rather, Loki, dressed in black pants and a tight-fitting black shirt striped with purple, and a pair of black-and-purple striped cat ears to compliment a tail.

The man grinned in what could only be described as cattishly, revealing rows of fangs. "Cheshire, actually. As in, The Cheshire Cat. But you can call me Chesh."

Sam was stunned a moment, too much so to do anything other than stare until he found Gabriel before him in an instant and just a few inches away.

"What's wrong, gigantor? Cat got your tongue?" Gabriel's, or Cheshire's grin-apparently-widened.

Sam wasn't amused, and was too stunned to be even alarmed. "Gabriel...you're dead. Lucifer, he-"

"-I told you, name's Cheshire." The man suddenly floated up from the ground and laid in front of Sam in mid-air lazily. "This 'Gabriel', he a friend of yours?"

Sam's stunned expression slowly morphed into a frown and then a more defensive expression. "Don't play dumb. This is all you, right? 'Wonderland'?"

Cheshire tilted his head. "Are you some kind of nutjob, kid? How many times I gotta say it? Che-shire. Say it slowly."

Sam was confused now. This was so utterly Gabriel, this whole whimisical, obnoxious idea and reality...but the reality was, Gabriel was dead, wasn't he? And if he weren't, what would be the point of all of this?

"Fine. You're Cheshire, and I don't have time for this." Sam started to move around him, but a tail slinked around and caught Sam by the shoulder, strong as a hand as Cheshire whirled him around. "And where might you be going?"

Sam jerked away from the tail and eyed the other warily. At this point, it was such a strange experience that he wasn't entirely sure how to react. And the Gabriel-Cheshire had thrown him off a bit, but he hadn't seemed like a threat, more like painkillers-gone-wrong and as such he hadn't been on guard. But if the other was going to try to stop him...

"Don't worry, kid. I'm not going to eat you or anything." Cheshire chuckled. "Just wondering, since you seemed so lost before, how you think you're gonna get somewhere now."

Good point. "I'm looking for my brother." Sam admitted. Strange as it was, his baddie-sense just wasn't tingling for Cheshire, and he didn't exactly have a choice at the moment, did he? "Have you seen him?"

"May-bee." Cheshire drew the word out popped it a bit at the end as he eyed Sam. "What would you do if you found him? Where would you go?"

"Home, hopefully, so if you know where he is-"

"-Home? Now where's that?" Cheshire asked, like an interested child.

"What do you care?" Cheshire moved a bit closer and Sam took a step back.

"You know what they. Curiosity killed the 'me' and all." Cheshire seemed to find that quite amusing and grinned broadly again.

"Look, will you just tell me if you know where my brother is?" Sam tried again.

"I know where he is. But I still don't see why you want to know, or where you'll go if you find him."

"Why wouldn't I want to know?"

"Why would you?" Cheshire replied back easily and Sam shook his head.

Sam sighed. "Nevermind," he muttered, "I'll find him myself." Sam started to turn away when Cheshire appeared before him again and at that, Sam reached for the knife in his back-pocket.

The knife that was no longer there.

Cheshire's tail held the hilt of the knife and he gave a drawling, toothy smile at Sam. "Looking for this?" Sam's eyes narrowed and Cheshire sighed as he held his tail, and thus the knife, out to Sam. "Here, take it." Sam's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "I'm not your enemy, kiddo. Just a curious little bystander. I mean, really...if you find this brother of yours, what's the point? And if you can leave here, well where's your home? You don't have one, do you? Sticks and stones and nothing solid?"

Sam hesitated as he eyed the cat-man before he took the knife and gripped the hilt tightly, ready to use it if necessary. He couldn't figure out the 'Cheshire's' angle. "He's my brother. I'm not going to leave without him."

"Haven't you already?"

"...What?"

"You went downstairs, didn't you?" Cheshire floated down and suddenly zipped back up as he spoke. "And came back up. DIdn't seem to want to find him then, so what changed?"

Sam stiffened. "...How do you know that?"

"I'm the Cheshire. It's my job to know things. Just like it's your job to hunt things. And Winter's job to ice the flowers, I mean that both ways, by the way..."

What had changed? Sam, albeit Soulless Sam, had snatched away Dean's apple-pie life. That was what had changed. If Sam had been himself, he'd have wanted nothing more than to have run straight to Dean. Part of him would have balked at it, because Dean had suffered enough and because he didn't want to relive any aspect of Hell. But the other part? The 'Sammy' part, would have wanted to run to his big brother. To the safety, and familiarity, and understanding of the truest family that he had. He loved Bobby like a father, but he and Dean...

Yeah, their relationship probably was a little unnatural, but so the Hell what? They were brothers. Always.

Even Soulless Sam had known that in some critical way, so much so that despite his logical desire to have Dean hunting by his side, he'd left him to Lisa and Ben. Even though he had no feelings or sentimentality, he had the innate knowledge that his brother deserved happiness-even if he couldn't begin to fathom said happiness, even if he couldn't respect the desire. Soulless Sam had gone against Samuel to insist that Dean be left alone, and true-the first chance he'd gotten to change that-he had. But a year was a long time to hold out anyway.

And now? It was another toss up between the parts of him. The part that wanted Dean back in that life, with a good woman who loved him and a boy who he could tell meant the world to Dean. And damned if Dean wasn't a good man and a great father, better at both than he realized. But, maybe selfishly, he was almost glad that the other had been forced back into the life, and forced back to being with him. Glad that Dean had chosen to stay.

"Helllllo? Earth to Sammy, come in, Sammy?"

"Don't call me that." Sam replied automatically as he regained his conscious train of thought and fixed his gaze on the cat-man before him.

"Fine, kid. So you got an answer yet?"

"He's my brother. Of course I'd look for him."

"Broken record, much? 'He's my brother'. Okay, I get it, so it's just some misplaced sense of fraternal loyalty? But not actually what you want?"

"That's not what I said." Sam replied immediately, and why was he arguing with Cheshire again?

"Sounded like it. I just don't get it, what's the point? Just because you're brothers...what?"

"We look out for each other." Maybe he was sounding a bit like a broken-record, but it was hard to think clearly, things were getting jumbled and he had a sneaking suspicion that it was something to do with the Cheshire's presence.

"Yeah, and I look out for my tail, doesn't mean I'd go selling my soul for it. Or jumping into gaping holes of fiery torment."

Sam frowned as he regarded Cheshire for a moment. He'd thought perhaps that it was some strange figment produced by his mind as part of the world, and that was why it had looked and acted like Gabriel, and known things...but if he didn't know better-

"-Fine, so let's say you find your brotherly bud. How does a person with no home, go home?"

Well didn't that question just strike a chord. Home. Where the Hell was home for him? That cursed house, rebuilt after the fire that stole his mother? A slew of crappy-hotel rooms? The occasional crashes at Singer Salvage? The flaming pit he'd spent a century, the longest portion of his existence, in? The few nights he'd camped out in the Impala with Dean? That was definitely looking at a home from a physical standpoint. And from that standpoint, he honestly didn't have one. Hunters didn't have homes. Period.

"Home. It's a funny word. Children think of houses. Me? I'm pretty partial to a certain Duchess, but, hey, who's counting?"

"A Duchess is your home?" Sam's faintly incredulous and mildly sardonic question broke him of his thoughts.

"Why not? Who says a home's a place you gotta stay, eh? Call me a hopeless romantic, but isn't a home more like, well...where you're welcome? Like when it's five a.m. and you're too hopped up on cat-nip to know your tail from your...well, anyway-and you can just give 'em a holler and there they are with a back-rub and a bowl of cream so sweet it'll make your teeth fall out. And that little trick with the uh-tail. Mmm." Cheshire gave a little shiver that Sam found...a bit unsettling, but the dopey, cat-infused words made some measure of sense.

A home in a person? Now that might be something that he could relate to. In the end, it was his 'home' that had saved him. That glance through the window at a broken little soldier Dean had been sentimental enough to leave. The memories of their time on the road. And if he wanted to be honest, weren't those really some of the best times of his life? He had some great memories with Jess, and his 'normal' life...but times with Dean were just...better. It had been memories of Dean that gave him the strength to free himself from Lucifer, or at least take control, and stop the Apocalypse. Because he'd looked into that car and seen the only real home he'd ever known: Dean.

"Tell me where Dean is." Sam said suddenly as his gaze fell on the expectant-looking Cheshire.

"Ooh, I love it when you get all authoritative. Go on, say something else. Say 'bite me'." Cheshire purred. He sighed when Sam seemed unamused. "Well don't you get it yet?"

"Get what?"

"Answer my question and maybe you'll get it, and then you can find this brother of yours."

"...I want to find my brother. And, why the Hell I'm telling you this-I don't know, but...my home is wherever my brother is. So there. I want to go home, can't do it without him."

"You really are a girl, kiddo, you know that?"

Sam shot him an irritated look.

"Not your fault though. I do kind of have this natural truth-thing going for me. Ya ever hear of 'you can't lie to a cat'?"

"No." Sam said with a faint scowl.

"Yeah, well. Sounds reasonable so...that's about how it goes. So don't feel too bad about getting all mopey and bleeding your little heart out. I have that effect on people. That and giving them the innate desire to bow prostrate at my feet...but hey! That's a story for another day."

Sam was just plain annoyed at that point. "Where is Dean?"

"The answer's in the question, numbskull. Or in the answer to the question, at least. If you know where you're going, then you can't go back, right? Back to when you didn't know, when you were lost. You can't go forward if you're too busy looking back, and if you go forward, well...at least it takes you somewhere, right?"

"That makes no sense."

Cheshire sighed. "Like talking to a brick wall...a really big brick wall." he muttered and then he clapped Sam on the back and pointed ahead of them. "Just go forward, kid. You'll find him. Long as you keep moving forward, you always will."

Sam wasn't sure whether Cheshire was spouting wisdom or nonsense, but there it was. So was it curiosity or something else that prompted the strange figment to urge him on. Then again, maybe it really was a product of his own mind-telling him what he needed to hear? "Right...well, uh...thanks, Cheshire."

The man grinned again and lifted a hand to ruffle Sam's hair, who pushed the other's hand away quickly. "Don't mention it, kiddo. Good luck and all that. You're gonna need it." his body began to fade away before Sam's eyes, and before long, there was just a head. "See ya 'round, Sam." A ping, a flash of a white-toothed grin, and then he was gone.

Sam decided two things. One, that he'd just been granted a minor epiphany by a cat-man. And two.

This was way too damned Disneyland for his tastes.

...

"Chuck? Nah, I'm the Caterpillar. And who are you?" The Not-Chuck blew a puff of smoke in Dean's direction, and he scowled.

"Ha. Ha. Real funny, asshole." Dean sniped and the Caterpillar lifted a brow.

"Am I being funny? I thought I was just asking a question." Caterpillar mused as he took a long drag off his hookah pipe before he blew a translucent green smoke in Dean's direction.

Dean coughed a bit. "Dude, knock it off. What is this place?"

"Wonderland." came the short, almost thoughtful reply although the Caterpillar seemed to be quite alert while regarding Dean.

"...O..kay...How'd you get here anyway?"

"You keep asking questions, but you still haven't answered mine. Who are you?"

"Dean frigging Winchester, you want an autograph? Cut the crap, Chuck."

"Name's Caterpillar, not Chuck, 'Dean frigging Winchester', but you're still not answering. I don't care who you are, I just want to know, who are you?" he seemed rather pleased with himself and chuckled as he took another long drag of his pipe.

"Same damned thing." Dean was annoyed now, and a bit confused. He was getting the idea that it wasn't a joke, but if this wasn't Chuck, then who, or what, was it? Just a product of this 'Wonderland' place? He didn't remember the story as well as he thought, but then, he was pretty sure it had been a porn [same as Snow White] so...

"You can be someone, without being something, or something without being someone. Or someone who isn't even you. There's a lot of possibilities, actually." Caterpillar mused. "So I mean, who is Dean frigging Winchester? Just wondering."

"The Hell kinda question is that?" Dean growled, apparently more bothered by the inanity of the question than the ludicrocity of the situation and that he was actually being asked it. "Screw this, I don't have time." he started to turn away when a pink-ish cloud of smoke drifted past and twirled in the air before it dissipated.

"Don't have time to figure out who you are? C'mon, Dean, no one's that busy."

Dean turned slowly to stare at Not-Chuck with a frown. He wasn't so sure that it wasn't him...but how could it be? This whole damned world felt off. "I know who I am. Dean Winchester. Badass hunter and resident lady-killer. Happy now, worm-boy?"

"Caterpillar." he corrected archly through another puff of smoke, this time a hazy blue. "Well that might be who you are, but still not really answering, now is it? A teacher is a teacher because they teach, but that's not really who they are, is it? Who you are isn't defined by who you are based on what you are. So who are you really?"

Dean felt like the other was giving him a mental loop with all those little reversing questions, but he thought he almost understood what the other was getting at. If he wasn't a hunter or a lady-killer, then what was he? Who was Dean Winchester? And that kind of inquiry just pissed him the Hell off.

"What's it to you?" Dean growled.

"Nothing, really. It was just on your mind pretty heavy. You don't really know who you are, right? Can't choose between the apple pie and the bloody whiskey?"

Dean stiffened. "Listen, you son of a bi-"

"Sam's big brother. Ben's almost-father. Lisa's almost-husband. Castiel's friend. John's son. Mary's boy. Bobby's almost-son. The Righteous Man. The breaker of the first seal. A hero. A bastard. Undeserving to be saved. Belonging in Heaven." The Caterpillar named them all as though tick-marking them off.

"You are Chuck." Dean snarled, after a slight bit of surprised hesitation.

"Nope." Another puff of smoke. "I'm the Caterpillar. I watch Wonderland, everyone that comes or goes, and I see inside each and every one of them. I see the darkness in you, and the light. But you know what? Neither's good or evil. It's what you make of it. And you vastly underestimate your potential, Dean." The Caterpillar chided.

Dean wanted to climb on that mushroom and throttle him.

"You don't know a damned thing about me."

"Oh?" The Caterpillar blew a puff of smoke, and suddenly, there was a hazy form of Lisa in violet smoke that solidified into a translucent but properly-colored version. She gave Dean a sad, half-smile, and Dean's expression became pained until she disappeared suddenly. "I know you're pretty heartbroken, but you won't admit it."

"You-"

The Caterpillar blew again and an angry, red smoke formed a grim-looking Castiel who gazed on Dean with a blank expression and Dean cursed as he swung a fist at the smoke which dissipated at the touch of his hand. "You feel betrayed and confused."

"That's it, you-"

Another puff, and it was Sam and Ben stepping towards him. Ben's expression hurt and angry, Sam's soft and forgiving. Both were equally painful and Dean gritted his teeth as they faded. "Guilt. Because you love them so much and feel like you failed them. Your responsibilities. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. You constantly beat yourself up for stuff that just isn't your fault, Dean. One man can't save the world."

"Yeah, well, he can try." Dean, through some intense act of will power, kept his position away from the Caterpillar for the moment.

"Sam needs his brother, he said so. And Dean needs his brother too, you said so. Ben and Lisa need a Dean. Castiel needs him as well. And Bobby-"

"I don't know what you're getting at, but we're done here." Dean growled as he turned to stalk away, stopped when this time the Caterpillar actually stood before him and peered up at him with an expression both thoughtful and sympathetic.

The Caterpillar touched a finger to his head and a bright blue dot formed. "Tell me something, Dean. Humor me. Am I white, or blue?"

"What?"

"Am I white, or blue?" he slipped off his jacket to reveal his bare white arms and he held them out before he motioned to the dot on his head. "Well?"

"Uh, right. How about option 'C'. You're crazy." Dean started to push past but the Caterpillar moved over and he gave the other a warning look. "Get out of my way."

"Dean, humor me, please?"

Dean glared down at the man a moment before he muttered. "White."

"Oh? And why's that?"

"What the Hell do you mean 'why'? Look at you! Painting your head doesn't change that."

The Caterpillar smiled then. "Ah. So what you're saying is...you're still yourself, even with a mar, or a scar, or a failure...painting a dot on my head, you failing to save a life...it's the same thing. It doesn't change your essential self, right? You're still Dean. You still try. And it still matters."

Dean stared down at the Caterpillar, and he couldn't quite find a response. He tried and mangled it. "That's...not...it's different..."

"No." A hand lifted to Dean's shoulder and though he tensed, it wasn't shrugged off. "Stop trying to believe the worst of yourself. Hell is a spot on your head, a dark one, admittedly. Many of your sorrows are. But it doesn't define you. Your mistakes, not even your successes define you. You aren't your job, Dean. Who you are is the man who does the job, even when no one else does. Who gives up his own happiness, on the chance that he might spare another's. You're a better man than most, give yourself some credit."

"You're crazy." Dean spoke the words quietly though, almost a whisper and his expression was faintly troubled. He should be socking the man in the face, so why was he listening? Why did the words almost...make sense? He'd never been much fond of Chuck, but the other was familiar, someone that he knew and this Caterpillar felt the same...and more. Strangely inviting.

"Maybe, but aren't we all a little crazy?" The Caterpillar's smile widened as he squeezed Dean's shoulder. "There's a lot of responsibility on these shoulders, but you bear it well. Remarkably so. There are people who love you and who are proud...you make a difference you can't even know."

A puff of smoke erupted on it's own and formed a hazy vision before Dean, snapshots of moments in the lives of those he'd saved. Lives they had thanks to him. They didn't all know it, would never thank him, but it was there. Because of him.

"Who are you, Dean?"

"I'm me. You wormy son of a bitch." Dean muttered as the vision cleared and the Caterpillar laughed aloud before he found himself alone, but a little path was cleared in the trees and he suspected that it would lead to his brother.

Dean took one last look at the now empty-mushroom and shook his head. Crazy, huh?

He could live with that.

...

Trust the Gabriel look-a-like to screw him over. Just how long had he been walking anyway? Sam had seen nothing but forest and no sign of his brother. He'd had plenty of time to think things over though, and it still boggled him. But all the same...he'd realized a few things, hadn't he, or weren't they really what he already knew? Not that it mattered though. Sam's feelings in regards to Dean were just another tether keeping Dean away from what could be a truly good life for him. As long as he felt like he had to watch Sam, he wouldn't watch out for himself. Sam's happiness came first, even when they were kids. It had been Dean who'd given up portions of his food to make sure that Sam had had enough. And Dean who'd actually robbed a house just to give Sam some semblance of Christmas. Dean who'd sold his soul just to bring Sam back to life. Dean who'd refused to give up on him even when he'd gone his own version of Darkside. That and more. Dean wasn't the only person that Sam cared for, but he was the only one that Sam could truly think of as 'home'. But as for Dean...he had another home, the literal and metaphorical kind, and he'd given it up-partially for Sam.

Just how was he supposed to fix that, or even equate that? What could Sam give that would be equivalent to that devotion?

"I think I get it now. Souls are just an excuse to sit around and whine, right?"

Sam froze, he recognized that voice and as he turned, he found himself faced with...himself. The Soulless Sam.

Shit.

...

Dean wasn't much for brooding on something like a conversation with a hopped up Caterpillar-Not-Chuck, but damned if he wasn't doing it anyway. Everything he'd said had been much of what he'd yearned to hear and he hadn't even realized it. Because that would have meant admitting to himself that he needed reassurance, that maybe he wasn't so sure that he wasn't the fallen man he'd believed himself to be. That it wasn't a failure every single time he messed up.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, right, Dean?"

"You're gonna die, Dean! And this is what you're gonna become!" The black-eyed Dean grinned.

"You." Dean turned and faced himself, black-eyes included.

The other Dean smiled, mirthless and cold.

"Me."

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Yeah, I know. Dorky way to leave off. I have a lot more written-but it's still not 'finished', so I could only post to this point. XD But at least my update should be speedy. Since it's mostly done. XD So enjoyyyy! And feel free to leave me notes of love...because you will be making me a very happy soul. XD

Menage a trois* [with fancy French accents] refers generally to a sexual innuendo of three, but there's a very notable line in the show where Balthazar alludes to a twelve-some instead of a threesome, so I threw that in there. XD douze is twelve. I don't think it technically works that way, but Bal did it first so it's not my fault. XD