They got back late, and clambered into bed soon after. Cass hadn't eaten his food from earlier, and he took one look at his bed and walked past to perch on a chair.
"I thought you were human." Dean from beneath the covers.
"Not exactly, I still have a little grace left from containing that blast. I just cannot replenish it here."
"Don't you wanna sleep now and save the juice you have left?"
"I don't possess any juice- oh. You mean, my powers. It wouldn't make a difference."
"Shuddup," hissed Sam from across the room. "This ain't a girls sleepover- let me get some rest."
"Night-night Sammy!" Grinned Dean, "See you in the morning!"
"Jerk."
"Bitch."
In the morning, Dean had one of those cliché moments where he had no idea where he was, then got that horrible sinking feeling when he realized. He groaned and stretched, seeing Cass still sat stiffly in the corner.
The woman who came to change their sheets gave them all a funny look, to which Dean pulled a face at behind her back. It made Sam snort with childish laughter.
After a few hours lounging around on the beds and poking about in the wardrobes (which were stuffed with a ridiculous number of spare pillows), it was time to stop putting off the inevitable conversation.
"So... What's the plan?" Sam questioned eventually.
The three of them slumped in reluctant silence. There really wasn't much of a choice when it came down to it, but none of them wanted to be the one to state the obvious. Dean cracked first.
"We find it."
"That's the problem." Replied Sam in frustration. "find what?"
"We all heard her, yeah? I'm guessing her vague Mumbo-Jumbo parting words mean that whatever we've been thrown in to find, it'll be obvious. Or else she'd have been more specific right?"
"Unless she never expected us to achieve anything and has trapped us here for all eternity." Grumbled Sam under his breath.
Cass stared blankly at the pink wall.
"Look," continued Dean "Best plan? We wander round till we find whatever the hell it is."
"No way dude!" Sam objected bluntly. "That's a crap plan. I know this goddess- this thing, it's on the tip of my tongue. Just give me some WiFi and we can sort this shit out. Plan it like a proper hunt."
"Cass?"
"I'm inclined to believe Sam's plan has more merit."
"Way to go, dude. Fine. But don't expect me to hang around here in pastel heaven whilst you guys rot your brain cells. I'm out."
He shrugged on his jacket and left the motel room, Cass and Sam behind. So they were stuck here, Dean realized, for an unnamed length of time. Whereas this morning he'd been crazy to bust out, he was kind of accommodating to the idea (Maybe it was the coffee). For once, he wasn't too hyped up about the hunt. If Eris wanted them dead, she wouldn't have teleported them away on a secret mission. Besides, who knew how the time-loop differed here. They could spend months in la-la land and still get back before lunch. Dean decided to take a fresh approach to this experience; call it a holiday. Alternate dimensions? Bring it on.
It took him less than ten minutes to sniff out the nearest greasy diner and order a huge slice of apple pie. The waitress who served him was blonde and pretty, with pouty lips. Her perfume smelt like flowery crap, but it was alluring in a way that most cheap bottled scents weren't. Dean flashed her a wink as he squirted cream onto his plate, and although she smirked back, when he tried to get her number before he left, she just laughed and said:
"Sorry baby, but betas ain't my type."
Dean frowned at the reference he didn't get (and he was the king of references), but decided to leave it at that, remembering only shortly afterwards that he didn't have a phone anyway. He'd have to fix that.
To burn more time, he found a park and wandered aimlessly about. It was mostly quiet for 2 in the afternoon, parents and toddlers milling about before school pickup, but Dean was more distracted starring longingly at the used car dealership across the road. If only.
When he eventually made his way back at about three, Cass was mysteriously missing again, and Sam was still hunched over a rented laptop.
"Find anything?" Grunted Dean, slamming the door shut behind him.
"It's tricky," lamented Sam, "thank god this world has Wi-Fi, but the mythology's messed up in this world- I'm just trying to find anything that triggers my memory." He clicked around some more and opened a couple of tabs. Dean collapsed onto his mattress. Loud growling suddenly erupted from Sam's stomach.
"Room service." They agreed.
The motel menu was limited, but at least it existed: most places they stayed in didn't provide the luxury. Thankfully, it included the essentials, so 20 minutes later they were waiting on burgers and beer, an extra portion on the side in case Cass showed up hungry in his newly human body. It didn't take long, and there was a quick knock on the door. The grumpy woman from the morning wheeled in a trolley laden with snacks, and Dean hopped up to help her unload. As his fingers brushed against her wrist, she froze.
"I thought you were a beta," she hushed, "but you're not are you?"
That was the second time someone had brought that word up today, and Dean got the feeling he was missing something big: like there was some huge chunk of this dimension that was slipping round the edges of his mind. Did everyone in this place watch the same mandatory TV show or something?
"What do you mean?" Dean puzzled aloud. He may have come out a bit more aggressive than he meant, because the woman jolted and took a few steps back towards the door.
"Hey, hey- wait! Look, call me dumb, whatever, just could you explain what-"
"What's up?" Asked Sam, poking his head round the bathroom door.
"I just want to know what the flip people mean when they call me a flipping beta!" Dean griped.
"Beta? The measure of volatility? I'd say they're justified, Dean, you're pretty volatile right now." Sam warned. "Are you alright madam?"
She'd paused in the doorway, wrinkled fingers gripping the silver handle of the trolley tray.
"You boys are really not from around here are you."
"Uhh. We're foreigneers." Improvised Sam.
"Yes, yes…" Quivered the old lady.
Dean and Sam poised in position, waiting for answers. It was a justice to how messed up their lives were that they didn't move an inch; still as stone, trained fighters.
The lady must have picked up on it too, because she took another step back towards the doorway, and when she spoke, she addressed the patch of wall behind them.
"See a doctor. It might help you."
Then she was gone, trolley in tow. Dean figured getting more answers want worth the prison sentence he might get for harassing a senior citizen.
"Huh." Said Sam, "She really bothered you that much?"
"You don't understand!" Snapped Dean, still worked up. "People have been calling me a goddamn beta all freaking day. It just feels like- I dunno, were missing something big here."
"well… if you say so." Sam was giving him that look again, the sympathetic 'I don't get your weird reasoning, but I'll humor you because I'm nice' and it was seriously grating on his nerves.
"Well?"
"Well what?" Replied Sam calmly, as if he had no clue.
"Are we gonna leave it or phone the damn doctors and figure this shit out?"
Sam looked as if he was going to make some cocky joke, but then paused and thought for a moment, brow furrowed.
"I mean, if it's a medical issue here, then it's probably important right?" A tint of worry entered Sam's voice. Trust Sam and his hypochondriac tendencies to tip the scales.
They ended up booking three appointments, just to be sure they were all medically sound. Sam was hyperventilating about different oxygen levels in the alien atmosphere or something and Cass was glaring at the wall. Dean just hoped they'd get some answers.