What Is And What Should Never Be: A Down the Rabbit Hole Short
By Aglaranna
Show: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A Down the Rabbit Hole twist on an old classic, Dean is trapped in a dream by a D'Jinn that grants his dearest wish, a world where his mother never died, he never went hunting, and where he could be together with the woman he loves, Kelly Jones. Takes place after the end of Book 1 and a month before the beginning of Book 2.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or it's characters, the likes of Sam and Dean Winchester belong to the mind of Erik Kripke. I will hasten to add that Kelly Jones and any subsequent OC characters (including the children) are my creative and intellectual property and I'm very proud of them.
Chapter One: In Which Dean Takes A Tumble
It was a dark night, a stormy night. Thick stone gray clouds hung thick along the edges of the horizon, blanketing the sky and hiding away the stars. The moon could not be seen. Held captive behind the shifting mass of moisture colored like the rocky granite walls of the Sierra Mountains, it hung above the outlying of an industrial sector of Joliet, Illinois. Below, the black asphalt of the roads and the steely roofs of the buildings were slick and shiny from the latest rainfall. They gleamed beneath the yellow street lamps lighting the abandoned sidewalks and run down sheds. Droplets of freshly fallen water clung to the eves and dripped down off the long sheets of metal, coating the windows in a glistening spray. A gentle ping could be heard through the streets as the latest rain steadily slid off the rooftops and beat against the ground.
The last six days in Joliet had been wet, with the nights even more so, a courtesy from the last summer storms to have been blown inland off the Atlantic. Almost dead as it treaded the border between Canada and New York, it regained life as it drew from the Great Lakes. Sweeping over Buffalo and Cleveland, it traveled up over the tip of Michigan before plunging back down to Chicago and settled over Joliet. The storm had come on a Thursday and it had stayed until Tuesday. Today. And it was well past midnight with the sane and responsible half of the local population was tucked away, safe in their beds dreaming of tomorrow's workday and the coming weekend, leaving only the insane, the drunks, and the visitors to be accounted. Tonight, there were relatively few of those out looking for trouble. But if they were, the night was certain, trouble was what they would find.
Below the hidden moon and the watchful starry-eyed gaze of the cloudy sky, the black tires of a 1967 Chevy Impala blew silver spray across the road. Inside the cab, Dean Winchester sat in the driver's seat, his large callused hand wrapped around the steering wheel, his dark hazel eyes focused on the road spreading out before him. The stereo blared his latest compilation of 1970s mullet rock, the hard and heavy beats shaking the plastic of the dashboard as the singers droned on about better days and road worthy revelations. The lyrics were filled with crappy turns of phrase about love fulfilled, lost and found, it was a hopeful kind of shit and recent events had left him in no mood to listen to it. Dean glanced down at the radio and cursed. He couldn't bring himself to turn it off. If he did, he'd have nothing to cloud his thoughts and without a bottle of whiskey in one hand, a shot glass in the other, and a preferably pretty blonde whispering sweet nothing's in his ear, Dean Winchester refused to be alone with his own silence.
The windshield wipers struck away the last of the fallen rain from view as Dean hit the gas. The outside world was as black as his mood, blacker in reality. Deep inside him, there was a welling pit of despair that made him want to howl like a madman and claw at his eyes. It made him want to take yank out his 1911 Colt semi-automatic and put three rounds in the back of Kelly Jones' bloody fucking head! Maybe that would make him feel better, Dean gritted his teeth, his eyes scanning the lines of warehouses. He needed to focus. He was on a job. People were disappearing around here, dying, and Dean would have bet his father's favorite gun that the probable cause was supernatural. It was even money, odds in his favor.
Dean winced as a face flashed through his mind, a dark haired girl with large brown gold eyes and a smile that could make a fire cold. His heart shuddered in his chest as the Impala slowed to a stop before the winking red lights. He could practically hear her voice whispering in his ear. Forever and always. No, that was what he wished she'd say. Strike that, it was what he wished he could say. God, when did I turn into Sammy? He had never been that sappy. No one who knew Dean Winchester would have ever called him a romantic. He wasn't the kind for grand gestures or loud, overeager proclamations of love. That was Sammy's thing, the kind of man Sam was. Not him.
Again, she was looking at him with sad eyes. Seeing his expression, her fingers stretched towards his face, a smooth movement, one of habit. He remembered her jerking back, eyes hooded and heavy with sorrow as she turned away from him, as she looked at his brother.
Dean squeezed his eyes shut. He just wanted the pain to stop.
It had been a month since he'd made that damned deal. A month since he, Bobby, Ellen, Kelly, and Sammy had slain the Yellow-Eyed Demon and Samuel Colt had forced him to open the Devil's Gate. Dean had expected there to be mayhem and chaos as hordes of demons and god knows what else were let loose across the globe. He'd expected the beginnings of Hell on Earth, the End of Days, a war to end all wars. He'd thought that the Fey would take this opportunity to unlock their borders and surge back across the mortal world.
That had been in June. It was now early August and summer was beginning to fade towards fall. There hadn't been a peep out of the Supernatural community. Everything was quiet and it was, in essence, business as usual. That was what he what doing out here in the middle of the night, searching through the streets of Joliet, Illinois. He was hunting and it was business as usual.
Still, he couldn't keep his mind from returning to the night the Devil's Gate opened. To when he'd stared down at Kelly Jones, wounded in her battle with her fellow Hound, afraid to touch her, to hold her, fearing that the wrong move would break his deal and see his brother turned to dust and the love of his life a wraith of distant memory. She was bound to Sam now. It had been some sort of ancient ritual performed at the same moment he was making his deal with the Crossroad's Demon, all part of a set of Fey rules and mumbo jumbo that Dean didn't really understand. It had something to do with soul possession and who owed a higher contract to whom. Basically it all boiled down to the fact that Dean's soul on it's own wasn't good enough to buy his brother back, the woman he loved had been forced to give of herself to keep his bacon from the frying pan and tied her soul irrevocably to his brother. Making them, Dean's mouth twisted in a sour smile, "soul-mates".
He didn't understand the bond that had been fashioned out of Sam's revival. His brother had once tried to describe it as constantly touching the mind of another, but Dean refused to believe him. The whole idea was completely alien to him and the way it had turned Kelly and Sam into a matched set worried him. One never strayed too far from the other and in times of trouble they seemed to reach for each other unconsciously. Sam would often react to Kelly before Dean could even tell that something was wrong and the way his brother protectively watched over her as she slept rankled his brain. It was Sam's right to do that, these days he knew Kelly's mind better than anyone. Still, it shouldn't be his responsibility to take care of her; that had been Dean's place and Dean's duty. But he had sacrificed all that to save his brother, given up the one thing that mattered most to him, it had been his decision and he couldn't blame it on anyone but himself.
Lately, he tried to avoid them whenever possible, it seemed to be the only way to quell his raging jealousy. He tried to be out of the motel room, trolling the bars, or working a case, keeping his mind focused on the disaster looming large on the horizon.
That way he wouldn't have to think about her, or the way his arms itched to hold her. He could ignore his fervent desire to send Sam packing when Kelly disappeared into the shower, his desire to follow her and douse her beneath streams of hot steamy water. He could blind himself to his need to run his fingers across the creamy flat of her belly and count the scars cut into her back. To tilt her chin to face him and press his lips against her soft ones, devouring her mouth with his. He wanted to chase her tongue and pinch her ass, and make her hit him in indignation or threaten to bash his head into the nearest wall. He wanted to see her cheeky grin and hear her gasp, moaning beneath him as her fingernails clawed against his shoulders, her body writhing. He wanted to hear her whisper his name in the darkness as he planted feather light kisses down the curve of her neck.
But mostly, Dean Winchester wanted to stop being such a sap.
On nights like these, Dean didn't trust the calm, he suspected a storm, but knew that until it broke, he could do nothing. Nothing but sit still and watch his girl get ever closer to his brother.
Looking up and realizing he'd been sitting at the stoplight for nearly ten full minutes, Dean pressed down on the gas pedal and his 1967 Chevy Impala, his baby, spluttered for a moment, then lurched forwards. As it did, Dean heard the ringer of his cell phone; it's plastic body vibrating against his thigh through the pocket of his jeans. Reaching down, Dean pulled it free and pressed the phone against his ear. He didn't have to look at the name or number to know whom the caller was, only one person would ever try to call him at regular half-hour intervals.
"Yeah?" He asked.
"So, I think I found something."
His brother's voice crackled clearly through the speakers and Dean felt his own heart beat slow. In the moments before answering the phone, anticipation had pulsed through his blood stream, nervousness making his palms sweaty and his pulse race. He was relieved that the one person he both did and did not want to talk to wasn't the one to pick up Sam's phone. When Dean talked to Sam, he could sometimes forget for a moment that they'd ever found Kelly Jones; that they back in the old days, just two brothers chasing adventure on the lonely American highways.
"Really?" Dean answered. "Cause I got to tell ya, Sammy I haven't turned up jack." He paused, shifting the cell phone to his shoulder as he tapped the steering wheel with a free finger. "But since you and Wonder Dog got me sifting through fifty square miles of real estate, is it a surprise I haven't found anything yet."
"Hey, Kelly offered to come along and help you look." Sam said. His voice sounded strained with an edge that was defensive, possessive, and protective, the kind that made Dean's hackles rise with irritation. "And that is the place where most of the victims have disappeared. You could probably have used her nose."
"Yeah," Dean chuckled. He forced himself to keep his own tone light and say the words that he knew would have his brother up in arms. "Like I really want the help of a half-wit jackal who'll spend half her time sniffing and pissing on the fire hydrants."
Dean could practically feel his brother stiffening on the other end of the line. There was a long pause, filled with crackling static, as Dean waited for his brother's reply. He listened as Sammy swallowed, he could practically feel the steam boiling out of his brother's ears. Sam had gotten a lot more sensitive towards all subjects involving Kelly and that made him easy to tease. You just gotta insult her 'till the cows come home.
"Dean," His brother said with a long, suffering sigh. "Do you think maybe, just once, you could talk about her like she's nothing more than an animal?"
She's a valuable and important member of our team, she's saved our lives and we've saved hers, distrust is a disruption that mars the cohesion of the whole. How are we supposed to find a way out of your deal if you won't work with us? All of Sam's sayings that would normally follow his comment flooded through Dean's mind, making his throat thicken. But he let irritation have the rein, when it came to Kelly and Sam; he intended to be belligerent, stubborn, and mean-spirited.
"Don't worry, Sam." A far away voice hit Dean's ears and his fingers on the wheel tightened. "If he wants to call me Hound Dog, I'm just as happy to dub him Mule." You're an idiot. Dean thought, kicking himself as he listened to her laughter. "Tell me, Dean." Her voice was much closer now. She was probably sitting right next to Sam, her cheek practically pressed against his. "Which of us would make a prettier beast of burden?"
Dean didn't respond as he listened to Sammy chuckle, instead he wiped his brow with a clammy hand and let his eyes scan the warehouses again. At this point it was probably best to just ignore her. So much for pretending she's not there. "You said you found something?"
"Just one thing," Sam said. "And I had to run it by Kelly just to make sure it actually existed." Suddenly, his brother coughed, he'd obviously been smacked.
Question is why would he think Kelly's more of an authority than his old musty books? Dean just assumed that it had something to do with the time she'd spent with the Yellow-Eyed Demon and left it at that. She'd come back to them with a deeper knowledge of all things that went bump in the dark. But most commonly she just says that, if there's a legend about it, it probably exists… Somewhere. Which his brother shouldn't find very helpful in confirming whether or not a mystical being was real. Unless Kelly's finally opened up about what happened with Old Yellow-Eyes. She'd been tight mouthed as a clam about it ever since the demon had died. Dean had suspected it was only a matter of time until she opened up, he swallowed the disappointment that it hadn't been to him.
"Which is?" Dean asked.
"Well, it's gonna sound pretty crazy, Dean." Sam trailed off.
"Oh, dear lord, just tell him!"
"I hate to say it, but I'm with Kelly and a bag of Cheetos on this one, Sammy."
"We're hunting a Djinn." Sam said.
"A friggin' genie?" Dean asked as the Impala rumbled beneath him.
"Yeah." Sam replied.
"What you think these suckers can really grant wishes?"
"I don't know," Sam said. His tone clearly indicated that he was leaning over a large pile of books; he was using his slow and ponderous professor voice. "I guess they're powerful enough. And," now his brother was checking over his shoulder, which probably meant Kelly had wandered off or buried herself in another musty tome. "Kelly didn't seem to know much about them, says they're from the wrong part of the world. Apparently, the Djinn and the Fey don't cross paths very often. But," there was a tapping sound and Sam bit his lip. "She sounded worried Dean. I mean these aren't like the Barbara Eaton in Harem Pants, from what I've been reading Djinn have been feeding off of people for centuries. They're all over the Qur'an."
"My god," Dean sighed. "Barbara Eaton was hot wasn't she?" There was nothing like a good reference to get his blood up and pumping. Memory of her served to distract him from the more pressing matters of his heart. "Way hotter than that Bewitched chick."
"Are you even listening to me?" Sam asked.
Dean cleared his throat, forcing the image of Barbara Eaton belly dancing topless in a sequined thong to the back of his mind. "Uh, yeah." He said. "So where do this things lair up?"
"Um," Sam said. He was clearly leaning over his research again. Dean bet that his little brother had the books spread out all over the table, categorized alphabetically by title and date of publication. "Ruins mostly, the bigger the better, more places to hide."
"Okay," Dean said. "Well, I saw a place a couple miles back. I'm gonna go check it out."
"Wait," Sam said. "No, no, no, come pick Kelly and me up first."
The thought of sharing the car with Kelly made Dean's stomach swirl and ripple. It would probably be fine if it were just here, but she and Sam were a kind of odd couple now. Plus, Dean really didn't want to watch his brother's socially awkward attempts at flirting, especially not with his girl. No, Dean would just have to go it alone.
"I'm sure it's nothin' I just want to take a look around."
"Dean, I mean it. This thing's even got Kelly a bit spooked and if she's worried…" Sam's voice trailed off as Dean hung up the phone. A loud beep pierced the noisy air for a second and then dissipated. Dean stuck his phone back into his pocket. He was sure that everything would work out fine.
Fifteen minutes later, the night black 1967 Chevy Impala rolled to a stop beside an old ramshackle warehouse. The rain had recently begun falling again, the splatters coating the hood and windshield of the car. Dean pulled up the parking break and stepped out into the downpour as he looked up at the building. The outside walls were a patchwork of different materials and steel plating, spaced apart by barred windows. Moving quickly to get out of the rain, Dean moved to the steel door cut into the side of the building. There was no lock on it and the knob turned easily beneath his fingers, as he pushed it open the door gave a low, solemn creak.
Lifting his flashlight high to shine around the musty hallway, Dean walked inside. He ignored the cobwebs hanging overhead as he made his way through a series of large rooms, coming upon a storage space with a series of desks with abandoned lamps and typewriters. The steel file cabinets upright and closed, a thin layer of dust covering the furniture and assorted office supplies. Covering his mouth, Dean withheld a sneeze. The world was silent around him as he came to the end of the room; a tall wall with large panes of glass separated one half from the other. Dean stopped, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. It felt like he was being watched.
Slowly, he gripped the knife in his hand and lifted it to his chest. The point had been dipped in lamb's blood, the elixir Sammy had prescribed for killing a Djinn. Dean's back muscles tightened as he tensed; then spun into the next hallway, his flashlight high as he scanned from one side to the other. There was nothing there.
You're jumping at shadows, Winchester. He thought, lowing the light. If Kelly were here right now she'd be laughing at him. Though her nose probably would have picked up anything that was living here before we even went inside. That ability of hers was helpful, even if it did cut down on the suspense.
Irritated, Dean swung the light up one end of the hallway to the other, scanning again. The hairs on the back of his neck hadn't relaxed and his muscles were still tensed, his instincts were saying it wasn't safe yet. So, where is the bastard? He wondered, checking behind him. Still nothing. His heartbeat quickened and suddenly, he knew he was in a game of cat and mouse. But is he the cat and me the mouse? Or am I the cat? Knowing his luck it was probably the former.
His eyes caught the reflection of light at the end of the hallway and he slowly began walking down it. The floorboards creaked beneath his biker boots, the soles of his shoes leaving large footprints in the dust. The silence was screaming around him. Something was coming. Dean regulated his breathing to slow, soft beats. He didn't want this thing, this Djinn to hear him coming before he was ready to strike.
I'll kill the thing. He'd show Kelly and Sam that even a lowly mortal could defeat something mighty and powerful. I'll show her. And maybe then Kelly would stop watching him like he was made of glass, ready to come apart in her hands if she touched him the wrong way. I'm not fucking fragile! So he was going to die in a year, so what? So what if she and Sam would spend eternity together while he was rotting away in hell? So what?
A heavy propelling force slammed into Dean's side, knocking him against the wall and the heavy windows. Surprise and pain forced Dean Winchester to drop the flashlight as a hand closed around his throat, catching the one holding the knife and forcing it back against the wall. He grunted angrily as he struggled against the creature.
It was tall as a man, taller than him, and humanoid in shape with black pupil-less eyes. Decorative tattoos traced across the being's face, it looked male so Dean assumed that it was. The black lines created a kind of mask of calligraphy, creating swirling patterns that covered the Djinn's bald head and pointed ears. The being had no eyebrows, none except a pair of menacing black lines curving up over each sunken lid. A random passerby could have mistaken the Djinn for a tattoo enthusiast and a skinhead, but when the creature was breathing into his face, Dean could see how inhuman the thing was. A pair of three dark lines cut down across the Djinn's lips like scars, ending at the dimple of his chin. His growling mouth exposed sharp and pointed silver teeth that glittered in the murky darkness. He was incredibly strong.
A second hit against the wall made Dean's left hand go numb as the lamb's blood tipped knife clattered uselessly to the floor. Dean brought his feeble left hand up to press against the Djinn's chest as his other gripped the one holding him by the throat. He grimaced again, sputtering as he struggled against the wall.
A strange cast had come over the Djinn's eyes, their dark emotionless depths glowing a bright vibrant blue. It lifted it's free hand up, palm crackling with the same electrifying color, sparks hissed and snapped as the hand came closer. Dean hissed, flailing from side to side, struggling to find any way to loosen the creature's grip. But it was no use, the Djinn's hand was suddenly covered in bright blue flames, his impassioned expression almost eager as his palm lowered ever closer to Dean's forehead. Dean groaned and kicked, but he couldn't stop the hand from pressing against the bridge between his eyes and sliding through his cropped dishwater blonde hair.
A strange sensation overtook him, like a humming sound in that filled his ears and surged through his mind. His throat caught, his eyes rolling back in his skull, and he stopped fighting. Then, all he knew was darkness.
AN: I promised to write this short story/novella about the Down the Rabbit Hole version of "What Is And What Should Never Be" after I had to cut it (and some other really good episodes) from Down the Rabbit Hole when I was pressed for length. But then I got really excited about moving on to Grim Fate and this short story got pushed to the wayside, even though it is actually rather important and the events that occur here do have a significant impact on Dean for later in the sequel, especially when he meets a real live version of Ben.
I thought the interim between Down the Rabbit Hole and Grim Fate would be a good place to stick this story and while being able to stay true to the original themes of the episode. "What Is And What Should Never Be" originally emphasized Dean's own feelings of worthlessness and the suicidal tendencies that would eventually lead him to make his demon deal. I think that setting it after the deal in the DTRH timeline and Dean feeling the loss of Kelly would make it all more poignant when the Djinn gives her back to him along with two extra surprises.
To answer any questions about I suppose the relevance this story has to the DTRH plot line, I'll tell you that unlike Bitch Beer for Two, what happens in this story with Dean will affect his overall growth (and he'll remember it). This was always planned to be a part of Down the Rabbit Hole, and while it's a little late, I thought the idea was too fun not to put on paper and share with you.
Anyway, that's enough for now and yes to answer any early questions the plot of this episode will be tweaked to incorporate some new additions. And don't be surprised if you witness the return of Kelly's human family, some of them anyway.
So, you tell me what you think. I'm sorry that this means taking a little break from Grim Fate. But I think it'll be worthwhile.
Oh and here's a little teaser for you: http : // www. youtube .com/watch?v=6NiGVrAP-DA
Follow the link and watch a trailer for the story. All my Supernatural AU videos are about Down the Rabbit Hole, so watch them and get glimpses of where the story is going.
I hope you all enjoyed. Remember feedback = love.