Chapter 10: Soul Food
The intern, Riku, checked the creature's vitals again before sliding the stethoscope back down on his neck. Next to him John and Sam were waiting patiently. The other three (the ones who looked the most suspicious) had made themselves scarce while the two "normal ones" had been able to smudge up a half baked cover story. It had helped that Riku had already met Sam and John previously.
"I thought the episodes were getting fewer and fewer." Riku gave Sam a comforting pat on the shoulder. "She should wake up in a few hours."
"She's in a coma?" John had picked up the Riku also saw the creature in a female form. Sam wondered how none of the hospital staff had noticed the creature's perception filter was showing them a different person. He chalked it up to the fact that people in the Neutral Zone didn't actually need "saving" on a regular basis. Sam would have to ask the creature more details about her abilities, namely why they weren't nullified by the Neutral Zone.
When it was clear that the creature wouldn't wake for a while they agreed to take watch in shifts. Almost twenty hours later the creature woke spiting up blood and gasping.
Dean looked up from his carefully disguised adult reading material. "What the hell?"
"My master…" The creature snarled. "He is trying to prove a point. He calls them mercy cuts."
Dean scrunched up his nose. "Did you suddenly hear a million voices cry out in horror only to be silenced, Obi Wan?"
The creature gave him a dirty look.
Dean frowned. "Please tell me you understand that reference."
"I'm familiar with every incarnation of George Lucas's creations." The creature made a familar sign with her hand. "I'm a Trekkie."
Dean chuckled. "Do I make an awesome jedi?"
"There is no world where you are a jedi." The creature shrugged.
"What the hell? Then they should make one," Dean looked mildly scandalized.
The creature frowned. "I'm sorry. I'll get my people right on that. Oh wait. They're all dead because I killed them after they went darkside." Even the bed was saturated by the creature's sarcasm.
"Can you really take us back?" Dean asked in all seriousness. "No fine print, no nothing?"
"Well you can't stay here," the creature replied with a defeated expression. "It violates the very laws of… everything."
"Like that's not hypocritical."
"I didn't come here to live, Dean." The creature drawled. "I only wanted to witness my friend's happiness. He's my Sammy, Dean."
Dean scrutinized the creature for a moment. "You think universes are sacred no matter how misshapen curses or broken they are right?"
"Of course."
"Then you better not let that bastard win." He told the creature firmly. "And I'm sorry your friend or whatever never forgave you."
"Me too," the creature sighed sensing were the conversation was going. Then the creature hopped out of bed.
"Woah," Dean gripped the creature's shoulder. "Should you be up?"
The creature's eyes flashed. "The Neutral Zone is merely draining my powers, returning me to my human form. We're low on time."
Dean's eyes widened as the creature shifted once more. This time the creature stood just over 5 feet (153 cm) tall. Long red hair tided back by a black bandanna reached the center of her back like a fox's tail. Her clothes had morphed into a blue turtleneck top, black pants, and army boots. She was a harmless looking specimen except for the black patch covering one eye.
"I figured I would take a form we could all agree on." The creature explained. "The Doctor is going to be very unhappy, though."
The Doctor was very unhappy. Sam was mildly surprised. Sherlock was mildly amused. John was immune. Together they came up with a plan of action. Chess was an easy game once you understood how units could be utilized. Even the creature had faint hope that with the help of the most brilliant minds and the luckiest bastards of the known existence that they might stand a chance.
Before they could implement their plan, however, they needed to get out of the Neutral Zone.
"That's the easiest part," the creature assured them.
The creature rode in the back of the impala with the Doctor. Sherlock and John took another car and followed behind. The creature passed the drive engaging the Doctor in an intense debate. Unfortunately English wasn't good enough and the two decided hash out their differences in a hushed dialect not of Earth. The conversation appeared rather heated and much to Dean's annoyance the radio kept frizzing out. Every time a Led Zeppelin song came the radio signal would mysteriously disappear or switch mid song. The song "The Weight" came on way too often and Def Leppard kept popping up.
Finally Dean had enough and shouted, "How about you two share with the rest of the class?"
The creature tilted its head. "The only way to stop my master is to kill my master."
"Killing someone for doing their job isn't good practice." The Doctor replied.
"His job is to kill me and eliminate unnecessary universes." The creature replied. "Who decides if they're unnecessary? He does. No checks. No balances."
"So you're saying there are unnecessary worlds." Sam said flatly.
"According to company policy, yes," the creature countered. "Roughly ninety percent actually."
"And the other ten?"
The creature smirked. "Ten percent are worth dying for. Luckily I'm all about equal rights."
Dean groaned. "Okay, somebody is going to have to explain this to me a little bit better."
The creature rolled her eyes. "A hypothetical question: Which world is worth saving? Your world where people die daily thanks monsters or a world without the supernatural death tolls, but where you two are the human equivalent of a monster?"
The Winchesters could vividly imagine what a human-monster would be like. "I would never-"
"Do not presume anything," the creature warned. "Without going into the complexities of morality and environmental triggers in a sample size of 1,000,000 worlds over two hundred-thousand would meet the condition I just mentioned. Almost twenty percent." The creature eased back a little. "Fortunately, because of your inherent nature the majority would still be favorable. Seventy-two percent is the magic percentage, but not the probability. Human nature contains many dark elements and there is no force that can change that. But you, Sam and Dean, are good people. Don't ever forget that."
"But using us a sort of measuring stick wouldn't tell you about the world overall." Sam pointed out.
"Actually, it would." The creature explained, "In what can be considered a good world, the goodness in good people is exemplified more than usual. In a bad world good men do unspeakable things. Using men and women of character as markers is one viable method of determining a world's worth."
"Murder and rape happen in every world." Sam said. "Are those people just bad people then?"
The creature sighed. "You're right, I'm oversimplifying my explanation, but that's exactly my point on why I resist my expected role in all this. Who am I to decide what worlds live and die? Who is my master that he thinks he knows what's best? That is why he must be stopped."
"There are additional flaws in your explanation," the Doctor intruded. "Guardians don't measure by death tolls. They measure in souls."
The creature groaned, but permitted the doctor his explanation. For the brothers it was an easy enough concept to grasp. In their world there was Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. "Good" souls went to Heaven, "bad" souls went to Hell, and monsters went to Purgatory. As far as the brothers knew Heave was a place where you got to relive your greatest hits and Hell was where you were tortured and turned into a demon. It never occurred to them to ask why that is.
"Holy shit," Sam swore. "You mean it's like the Matrix?"
"I hate that movie." The creature grumbled. "But basically, yes. In most universes human souls are awesome little battery packs that keep the universe functioning. Sun to plants, plants to people/animals, people to emotions, emotions to soul, soul to the afterlife, and so on up the chain in an energy ladder. It takes the equivalent of sixteen trillion seven hundred eighty seven billion four hundred fifty one million one hundred eighteen thousand one hundred forty seven mortal souls to maintain my existence."
"Holy shit."
"Where do gods fit in all this?" Sam asked curiously.
"Bureaucracy." The creature said. "Humans cannot conceive of a god greater than themselves which is why most gods act like unruly children. Deities are simultaneously participants in the world and also above it like actors in a play and once they exit the stage they return to themselves."
"Which is happening at an alarming rate," the Doctor added. "The Time Wars disturbed not just one universe, but caused a ripple effect."
"There's no such thing as an isolated event, Doctor." The creature reminded before sitting up strait. "We're here."
"Are you out of your mind?!" Sam yelled over the ocean spray.
"What's the matter boys?" The creature called back. "Scared of a little adventure?"
"The Cliffs of Dover? Really?" John mumbled.
"I was expecting Stone Henge," Dean admitted.
"What the hell am I supposed to do with a stone calendar?" The creature grandly waved to the cliff's edge. "This is where the magic happens."
"This had better be worth the two hours of Neil Young." Dean warned the creature. "You freaking changed my tapes! I should throw you off a cliff as a matter of principle."
The creature made rock 'n roll gesture. "Keep on rockin' the free world, babe. I had to see if my mojo still worked. Transporting people is easy enough, but you wanted to keep the freaking car so this is what we got."
The creature and the Doctor had already explained that moving between worlds leaves a scar. The creature had a plan to make sure nobody could fall through accidentally and any unwanted pollution from other worlds wouldn't be a problem. The creature did not elaborate on what that pollution might be.
"Wait for my signal," the creature commanded. She spreads out her hands like Moses and the ocean calms to become smooth as glass. The creature's heart or heart equivalent flutters in excitement as it always did before a leap. Moving through worlds always felt like free-falling until the creature could get its bearings. The excitement of a new world with unfamiliar and familiar commingling in a warped symphony of circumstance spurred the creature forward. A leap followed a dash and off the cliff the creature went towards certain death.