N.B. : I thought it would be fun to speculate on what a distaff Supernatural would look like. So here's my attempt at it.

1 – White Rabbit

There were days when Dean would have paid anything to know what the hell was going on. This was one of those days.

Bobby had told them some powerfully bad omens had sprung up just outside Silver Springs, Maine. The snowstorm in the middle of June, and the fact that it also hailed gemstones (mostly quartz) caught Sam's interest. This didn't even bring into account the mass bird exodus, which apparently was documented by several people, who thought it was a sign of the end times. So more Lucifer shit? Seemed likely.

They arrived at the outskirts of town around noon, in a densely forested landscape that seemed to be crisscrossed with fire. Only this fire was green and spectral. Dean had put in a call to Cass, but he hadn't responded yet.

He stopped the Impala far away from the flames and got out, Sam following suit. "Um," Dean finally said. "What do we do about this?"

Suddenly there was a loud "boom" that shook the ground hard enough to make them stumble. For a single second, Dean thought he saw a gigantic torso outlined in the high clouds above, but when he blinked, it was gone.

"I'm not sure," Sam admitted. He looked around at the lines of green fire, and said, "If I could get an overhead view, I bet they're spelling out something."

Dean pointed to the nearest towering pine. "Start climbing."

Sam scowled at him, and probably was about to say something smart-assy, but he was cut off by screams.

They both looked off towards the heart of the forest, where the screams seemed to be coming from. It wasn't just one person, it was several, a chorus of fear. Dean groaned inwardly, and grabbed his gun. They were going to have to go in there, weren't they? Damn it. Dean started sidling into the trees, avoiding the fire. It didn't give off any heat, and wasn't catching on any of the trees or underbrush, which was something, but he didn't know what that meant exactly. "Try to avoid that stuff," Sam told him needlessly, following him in.

"What is it?"

"Uh … good question. I have no idea. That's why you should avoid it."

Dean rolled his eyes. Sometimes Sam's role as the "smart one" was really overstated.

They'd gone about twenty five feet when there was another one of those big "booms", but this time it wasn't only the ground that rocked. The trees swayed drunkenly around them, and Dean fell against a trunk, trying to keep his balance. Should they keep going? Well, they didn't have a choice, did they?

As soon as the shaking subsided, he crept onward, gun first, waiting to see some kind of movement. Any kind that wasn't green fire. He wasn't picky. But so far, it was dead still and now dead quiet. That made his hair stand up on the back of his neck. Something bad was going on here. It would have been lovely to know what.

Another "boom", harder this time, and while Dean managed to keep his footing, he heard a sharp crack, and knew a tree was falling before he even saw the movement. It was a huge pine, maybe sixty feet tall, and it appeared to be coming right towards him. "Dean!" Sam shouted. He was sprawled on the ground, having been unable to keep his footing. (Higher center of gravity. Sometimes it paid not to be that tall.)

Dean dove out of the way, and only had a millisecond to realize he was diving right for some of the green fire before he hit it. He braced himself for pain, hoping it wasn't too bad.

It was weird. For a split second, it felt like he had been stretched out on a rack until he was ten miles wide, and suddenly he slammed into a table, which broke under his sudden weight. Dean lay on the floor, dazed, and tried to make sense of his surroundings. It was mostly dark, so that didn't help, but he was pretty sure he was lying on concrete, and there were no trees here, so what the fuck?

"Sam?" he called, hoping against hope he was still there. Dean's eyes adjusted to the dark, and he thought he was in some kind of warehouse. Did he get zapped somewhere else? Was Zachariah fucking with him again?

He'd rolled over onto his side, feeling a twinge in his back, when a female voice asked, "How do you know my name?"

Somehow Dean had held onto his gun, which he mentally patted himself on the back for, and pointed it towards a shadow that coalesced into a person. A tall woman with reddish-brown hair, wearing a t-shirt advertising some roadside diner, and jeans that had seen better years. She was also wearing an army drab coat, and had a gun aimed at him in response. Her hazel eyes were wide, and yet didn't seem fearful, just confused.

"Drop the weapon," a commanding voice insisted. This too was a woman, coming out of the shadows in a shooting stance. She was shorter than the redhead, and seemed to have a slightly more muscular build, although there was something about her face that Dean found familiar. She had short brown hair and sharp green eyes, with a ghostly white scar marring her upper lip. Her outfit of combat boots, worn jeans, black Henley, and brown leather jacket looked really familiar too. For some reason, he noticed right away she was wearing no make up. And oh yeah, she had a look of pure death in her eyes. She wasn't bluffing about shooting him, and he got the sense she could, before he could tighten his finger on the trigger.

Dean stared at her for a moment, before realizing the most bizarre thing: they were both holding Colt 1911's with pearl grips. From the startled look she was now giving him, she must have realized it too. "What the fuck ..?" she said.

"Wait a moment," another female voice said. From out of the shadows emerged an attractive Latina with shoulder length black hair as glossy as a panther's pelt. She was wearing a tailored black suit and white blouse, but what really tipped it for Dean was the rumpled trench coat she was wearing on top of that. "Cass?" he asked, as she approached him.

Cass – female Cass – paused, looking at him with her head cocked to the side in the most Castiel like gesture there ever had been. "Yes, I'm Castiel. And you're Dean Winchester, aren't you?"

"What?" Both the redhead and the butch woman said in unison.

Dean lowered his gun, because if this was Cass – and he was now sure it was; he had a feeling he'd know Cass no matter his vessel – the gun was useless. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, and Cass held out his hand to the side. Dean didn't understand that gesture at first, and then he realized she was giving it to the butch woman, who looked like she was ready to open fire on him. Cass made her stop.

"Explain this," the redhead said. "What's going on?"

"He's from another universe," Cass said. She had a pretty voice, but it was inflection-less. "Another reality. That was that weird energy fluctuation I told you about."

The redhead lowered her gun and put it away, but butchie still had hers out, and was giving him the stink eye. Dean could only think back at ya, sister, but he knew better than to say it. "Is this more of Lucifer's tricks?"

"Or Zachariah's," the brunette snarled.

Cass shook her head. "I have no sense of angel energy here." She crouched down, so she was more or less on Dean's eye level. "What happened to you?"

He told her – Cass – about the omens in Maine and the spectral green fire. At least it wasn't a long story. Dean could see Cass in this strange woman's face, and he found himself wondering if Cass was pretty in every universe he was in. You'd think at some point he'd choose an unattractive vessel. Was Cass a beauty snob?

Cass believed him, but then, Cass could always see the truth in people. Which was why he had to play along if you wanted to lie to him. "Interesting," Cass finally said. "That sounds god-like."

"Which god?" Dean asked. He should have known. The most annoying shit was attributable to gods.

Cass shook her head. "I'd need more information."

"I can look into it," the redhead offered.

"Cass, what the hell is going on?" the butch woman demanded.

Cass held out a hand, and Dean took it. She stood up, pulling Dean to his feet at the same time. "I've told you, there are many parallel realities, many branching off at one decision point or another. He's from one where you were born male."

Dean and the butch woman stared at each other in a similar degree of horror. "What?" they both said.

Cass sighed. "Dean Winchester, meet Samantha and Deeanna Winchester." Sam was the tall redhead, and butchie was … him. Oh, of course.

"I'm a man too?" Sam asked. She seemed amused at the prospect.

"Yeah."

"What am I like?"

Dean wondered if he should bring up the demon blood and psychic crap, then decided the less details, the better. Maybe that didn't happen in this dimension. "An absurdly tall nerd."

"Yeah, that's her," Deeanna said, finally – and reluctantly – holstering her gun.

Sam shot Deeanna a pissy look that he recognized. Apparently gender played no role in that. "At least I'm not a pretty boy."

"Hey," both Deeanna and Dean snapped, then looked at each other. Holy shit, this was weird.

Cass's head suddenly snapped around, and he seemed to be staring at shadows. But Dean assumed from his intensity he was looking through the walls of this abandoned warehouse. "We'd better get going. I'm not the only one who sensed the energy disturbance."

"Fuck," Deeanna said, with a small sigh. "Are you sure we can trust him?"

Cass looked at her. "Of course you can. He's you."

Deeanna gave him a hard glance, which he returned, mainly because he didn't like having his trustworthiness questioned.

Dean decided that Cass was getting sidetracked here. "Can't you just send me back?"

Cass shook her head. "Not until I know where you belong." She then looked disturbed, and glanced back at the warehouse wall before she let out a small scream, and disappeared in a flash of golden light.

Dean knew from experience that was the result of the angel banishment symbol, the one that sent angels off into the cornfield for a while. Deeanna and Sam must have recognized it too, because they both had their guns back out and faced the warehouse door as it was shoved open. Before he knew what he was doing, Dean had his gun out as well. This might not be his universe, but he recognized an attack when he saw it.

Standing in the doorway were many demons, at least ten, possibly as many as fifteen. In the front was a shirtless, scrawny man with several demonic symbol tattoos on his chest and arms. Dean recognized some of them, and thought at least one was a summoning symbol. What kind of idiot did something like that? "Missing your angel, Winchesters? Too bad, so sad."

Deeanna shot him in the head, his brains splattering on his demonic followers standing behind him. It was so sudden and startling Dean almost jumped.

"Eat me, assclown," Deeanna said, taking aim at his followers.

There was a gurgling noise, like a drainpipe backing up, and Dean realized it was laughter as the scrawny guy stood back up, the huge hole in his face healing over as they watched. A tiny amount of black smoke had escaped, but not enough to make any difference. Dean had a sudden, terrible Terminator 2 flashback. Was this fucker liquid metal? "Such a foul mouth with such a pretty face," the man taunted. "I should mess up your face to match."

"Bring it on, Iggy Pop," she replied. Dean saw she had Ruby's knife now in her left hand, gun still in her right. Was it called Ruby's knife here? Maybe Ruby was a guy here. Robert? What was the male equivalent of Ruby?

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam had come up beside him. For a moment, he thought maybe she was trying to get a better shooting angle, but then it occurred to him that no, she was trying to stand in front of him. Protect the newcomer on the scene like any other civilian. Apparently the Winchester training was the same, no matter the universe.

"What is this guy?" Dean asked quietly.

"He calls himself Bishop," Sam replied in a whisper. "He's trying to turn himself into a living Hellgate."

Dean had never heard of such a thing. "Is that possible?"

Sam shrugged. "If you do the rituals right. He's close. We don't know what it'll take to kill him at this point, but his disciples are regular demons, so if you have holy water on you, now's the time to use it."

"Of course I have holy water. What kind of hunter do you take me for?" Dean holstered his weapon, and pulled out Ruby's knife. "I also have this."

Sam glanced at it with surprise, recognizing it as the exact same knife her sister was holding. "You had Ryu in your dimension too?"

Interesting. He never would have guessed that. "There he was called Ruby."

Sam looked like she was going to ask follow up questions, but there was no time. Deeanna started shooting as Bishop and his followers suddenly swarmed inside the warehouse, pulling out knives and machetes as they charged them en masse.

Not five minutes in a new universe, and already he was hip deep in a fight. Dean figured that was just his luck, no matter his gender.