A/N Sorry it's taken me so long to update, life's been crazy lately. Thank you so much for the favourites and follows! It means alot that people are actually enjoying my story! Feedback is welcomed, so please review.
All mistakes are purely my own as I have no beta, so I do apologise for any errors.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, the fabulous characters of this story all belong to King Kripke (aside from my protagonist of course, that particular character is all my doing mwahaha)
I hope you enjoy :)
Chapter 2
The pacing man, with the bluest eyes I have ever seen, steps towards me, his face expressionless but for the slight crease between his eyebrows.
"Do not be afraid," he rumbles, "we aren't going to harm you, but you must remain calm."
"Oh yeah, real convincing Cas, I bet she feels totally safe in a room with three guys she's never met before." The take out man cuts in sarcastically. Cas shoots him a glare.
"Now is not the time for sarcasm, Dean, I was simply trying to reassure her-"
"Guys, enough!" The obscenely tall third man cuts in. "You can argue some other time."
"Butt out Sam." Dean says sharply.
I follow the exchange, hardly believing my eyes as I watch them interact.
I must be dreaming I think as they continue to glare at each other. I must be, I'm at home, in my bed asleep and I've dreamt up this whole thing. I just need to wake up. I shake my head and reach up, pinching the skin of my arm hard.
"Ouch," I mutter, my voice deep with sleep, and I flinch when all three pairs of eyes flick back to me.
Ok, so pinching didn't work. Now what? Before I can try anything else, Sam takes a few steps towards me, his face soft and sympathetic. I scramble off the bed, stumbling as a wave of vertigo washes through me. I back up until I hit a wall, leaning heavily on it to prevent myself from falling to the floor.
"I need to wake up," I mutter to myself, "I have to wake up, wake up, wake up." I close my eyes and slap my face hard enough to make my eyes water. Cheek stinging, I peek out at the room and they're still there, staring at me like I'm a mad person.
"Dammit, wake up!" I growl, bringing my hands to my face and digging my palms into my eyelids, rubbing furiously. When I open my eyes next all I can see is whirling colours and blurry shapes. I blink a few times until once again the same room comes into focus. The three men have not moved, and I let out a frustrated sigh. I begin to think that perhaps I'm not dreaming after all, but that must mean that I've gone insane. That, or I'm on a seriously weird acid trip. I take a deep, steadying breath and close my eyes, once again counting to ten in an attempt to calm myself.
When I have myself under control I let my eyes open, cringing when I see that nothing has changed. I sigh and resign myself to being stuck in this dream or whatever it is, deciding to just roll with it.
"Wha-" I clear my throat, trying to rid my voice of the scratchy deepness that comes with sleep. "What's going on?" I barely even recognise my own voice, I must have been asleep for a long time.
Sam is the first one to speak, his hazel eyes looking straight into my own as he edges closer.
"It's ok," he says, "we aren't here to hurt you. I'll explain everything, but first why don't you come sit down and eat something? You must be starving." At the mention of food my stomach lets out a very loud, very long rumble making me blush. Sam smiles. "Yeah that's what I thought," he holds out his hand. "Come on, we have an extra burger with your name on it." Eyeing him warily, I take a cautious step forward, vertigo clinging to the very edges of my vision causing me to sway slightly with every movement. Sam smiles welcomingly, gesturing towards the rickety looking table just beside the front door. I see brown take away bags, empty and full, littering the tabletop, as well as a half eaten burger and a coffee cup.
Cas, who is still hovering by the bed that I recently vacated, doesn't take his eyes off me, his face carefully schooled into a neutral expression. Dean slumps back down in his chair at the table, picks up his abandoned burger and takes a big bite, chewing vigorously.
"Sit," he says through a mouthful of food, "the food's getting cold."
I sigh, my hunger winning out over my fight or flight instinct, and make my way to the table, sitting down opposite Dean. He pushes a bag towards me, the smell of meat and cheese and greasy goodness hits me in the nose, and suddenly I'm ravenous.
I tip the contents of the bag onto the table, grab the burger and rip into it. The first mouthful is like heaven. This is quite possibly the best burger I have ever tasted, although that could just be because I haven't eaten in... I don't even know how long.
"So," I say through my food, not really giving a damn about table manners at this stage. "How long have I been here for?"
"Eighteen hours," Cas says from behind me. "We expected you to wake much sooner, but I think you're body may have gone into shock from all the ch-" Cas stops as Dean shoots him a glare over my shoulder.
"What he means is," Dean pauses to pop the last piece of his burger into his mouth and chews a couple times before continuing. "What Cas means is, being touched by an angel is some pretty heavy stuff, so your body probably needed time to recover."
I pause, my burger halfway to my mouth. I look from Dean to Sam and back again, my face settling into a frown. I drop my burger onto the paper bag it came in and cross my arms.
"Ok, so now what?" Sam and Dean exchange a glance, before looking back curiously back at me. I roll my eyes, feeling strangely calm and in control. "What's your end game? You've got me, for whatever reasons, I don't know where I am, I don't know why I'm here and, to be honest, I'm still about 85 per cent sure I'm dreaming because there is no other possible explanation for me to be sitting here, in a crappy motel room with the Winchesters and a fallen angel!" Their eyes go wide with shock and they exchange another look, this time they look baffled.
Suddenly my vision is full of Castiel as he looms over me, hands on either side of me on the chair, trapping me in.
"How do you know who we are? Who has given you this information?" He glares down at me threateningly, his eyes swirling with conflicting emotions. I lean as far back in my chair as I can, eyes wide with fear, heart pounding in my chest.
I open my mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a squeak. Whatever composure I had gained vanishes as I stare into those eyes, my breath coming in short sharp bursts.
"Cas, calm down, let the kid explain." Dean says, standing and gripping Castiels fore arm tightly. The angel stares for a few seconds more before backing away and shaking Dean off. He stalks off to the other side of the room and leans against the wall, arms folded.
Dean returns to his chair and takes a swig of coffee as I regain my composure. Sam, who has remained silent through the whole exchange, strides over and flips the last chair around, straddling it and propping his folded arms across the top of it.
"How do you know who we are?" He questions, much gentler than Castiel.
"Well," I shake my head and sigh, "this is going to sound crazy, but you three are the main characters on my favourite TV show, Supernatural. " I look at them, still pretty sure that none of this happening.
"That is why I believe I'm either dreaming or stark raving bonkers, because unless this is a really really messed up prank, there is no other explanation for me to be sitting here, right now, with you three. There just isn't."
Sam and Dean look at each other again, seeming to have a silent conversation. Dean shakes his head, rubbing his hand across his face.
"Ok, look, you're not crazy. Or dreaming. Cas, feel free to correct me if I'm explaining this wrong. This is how it is," he looks directly at me as he speaks, "I don't have time to sugar coat this for you, so listen up. Where you come from, there's no such thing as monsters. We, apparently, only exist inside of a television screen, and there is no such thing as magic. There's no God, no Heaven or Hell, just normal, apple pie lives. You live, you die, the end. You following me so far?" He pauses and I nod, even though my mind is swirling with questions.
"Ok good, so if this TV show you were talking about is in any way accurate, you know what we do, what we hunt. You know that here, monsters and magic and good and evil are very real, yes?" Another pause, another nod.
"Ok, so now the best part. You're a prophet. Well. YOU'RE not, but the you of this universe is. Unfortunately, the you that we need is... Well, dead, and all the other prophets of your generation have either been killed or are still in diapers. So, we needed to take more...drastic steps to find you." My mind is reeling, going a million miles a minute.
"Hang on, just hold up a second." I put my hand up in a 'stop' motion and Dean stops and looks away. "So, let me get this straight, you have taken me from my home and brought me to this, what, alternate universe? Because the me that belongs in this world is dead? Why me? Why not go steal one of the other prophets from their other worlds? How can I be a prophet? I'm nothing special, I never have been and I probably never will be. And why now? Kevin has been dead for months, so why all of a sudden are you in desperate need of a prophet?" I stop, gasping for breath as the gravity of the situation hits me. Not only have I been taken from my home, but apparently I've been taken to a whole different world? A world where the other me is dead. My stomach turns and I feel as if I might throw up.
"Bathroom," I gasp, lurching to my feet and clutching my stomach. Sam points me in the direction and I stumble my way across the room and through a doorway that I hadn't noticed before. I slam the door behind me and drop to my knees in front of the stained toilet. My stomach turns again and I dry heave, spitting out the saliva that gathers in my mouth. My stomach churns and I retch, again and again. By the time it stops, my eyes are streaming and my throat is raw, the taste of bile on my tongue.
My chest is heaving as I gasp for breath, I need to calm down before I pass out. I begin counting, and I don't stop until my breath is even and my heart has stopped racing. I get up from the floor on shaky legs, using the sink to support myself. Turning the cold tap on, I splash my face, the cool water washing away the sweat and tears. I scoop some into my mouth, swish it around and spit it into the sink. I take another deep breath before blindly reaching for the towel that hangs next to the small shower stall and pat my face dry. When I pull the towel away I automatically look in the smudged mirror that sits above the sink. My eyes go wide, and I drop the towel in horror, not recognising the piercing green eyes that stare back at me.
"What..." I reach my hand up and run it over my face; the high cheekbones, the thin nose, the tanned skin of my stubbly cheeks. My hands travel into my hair next, normally long and curly, it is now short and straight, sticking up in tufts all over my head. My blouse stretches tight across my wide, noticeably flatter, chest, the hem falling to just above my narrow hips, exposing a tanned, flat stomach and part of a thin line of black hair which disappears into my pants. These are hanging very low, just barely clinging on to my hips and looking as if they could drop at any moment. Where I used to stand at 5'8, I estimate that, impossibly, I'm now almost as tall as Sam.
Any composure that I may have gained in the last few moments disolves.
"Oh...my...god." It comes as a whisper, and with the revelation of my change in appearance, the changes in my voice that I had tried to blame on sleep are obvious.
"Oh my GOD!" I touch my face again, the rough stubble strange against my fingertips. I jump when a knock sounds at the door.
"You ok in there?" Sam asks. I feel like screaming, yelling at the top of my lungs, no I am NOT ok, but instead I take yet another deep breath and calmly open the door. Drawing myself up to my full height, I look Sam in the eye (and a part of me is quietly satisfied by the fact that I can do so quite easily) and I say, "what do you think? Would you be 'ok' in my situation?"
I brush past him, back into the main room and make my way over to the rumpled bed, perching on the edge. Three pairs of eyes watch we warily as I shove my inner turmoil into my back of my mind. I breath in through my nose and hold it until I feel I can speak, letting it out of my mouth in one big whoosh.
"Ok," I begin, "so, it looks like I'm going to need to borrow some clothes." I look expectantly at Sam, who is still standing frozen by the bathroom door. His expression, a sort of bemused shock, would make me laugh any other day. "Sam, since you seem to be the one closest to...me in body type, could I please borrow a shirt and some pants?" I look at him expectantly and he seems to shake himself into action, nodding and going to the duffle bag sitting on the end of the other bed. He rifles through for a minute before producing what I asked for.
"Sorry, the jeans are kinda holey and the shirt is stained, but we haven't really had the funds to go shopping lately." He seems genuinely sorry as he passes me the clothes.
"Thank you, they will be fine. Now," I turn to Castiel, who hasn't moved from his post on the wall, "Castiel, you didn't happen to bring my bag along for the ride did you?" He stares at me for a few seconds before answering.
"No, I'm afraid your handbag was the least of my concerns at the time. My apologies."
Frustration at his sarcasm flares inside of me for a moment before I squash it down. Really, the only thing in there that I want is my wallet, and none of the cards would work anyway since that version of me doesn't exist in this place.
"Oh. Nevermind then, it's useless to me here anyway. What about my phone?" Dean speaks up then, having been conspicuously quiet since I came out of the bathroom.
"Yeah, your phones here. You know it won't work though, right? You can't call anybody. One, because the network you're on doesn't exist here, and two, because you're dead to everyone you know in this universe." I flinch at that reminder, storing my questions away for later.
"I don't want it for that reason. It's got music and photos on it, and I want some sort of connection to myself so I can stay sane in this-" a thought hits me like a ton of bricks then, making me pause. My hearts thuds loudly in my chest as I consider my next question, dreading the answer.
"Sam," I start, thinking that of the three in this room, he would be the one most likely to give me the truth. "If I'm here...does that mean I'm missing from my world?" My question hangs in the air and when Sam shifts his gaze away from mine, I have my answer.
"Oh God," I whisper, my brain going into overdrive. "Oh God, oh my God, you need to take me back, I need to go back, I can't be here. Did you even think about that before you took me?!" I throw myself to my feet and launch myself at Castiel, clutching the lapels of his trench coat and yanking him forward until we're nose to nose. "Castiel," my voice is low, almost a hiss, "did you even think about my family? About what they will be going through with me gone?" My voice starts to rise. "Did you even think about the fact that I have a life? And a job? And a home? Do you even care? What about my mum? What about my girlfriend? How do you think they're feeling right now, you psychopathic son of a bitch?!" I'm screaming at him, shaking him, yet his face remains impassive as he places two fingers on my forehead and everything goes blank.
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