12 – Father Sister Berzerker
"It's Gluskab and Malsumis," Cass said, seemingly not at all alarmed that Tabaldak had Sam by the neck and was currently dangling him off the ground. Despite the fact that this was a psychic plain, Sam could still feel the constriction around his throat. "They're warring on Earth."
"So?"
"They're destroying it, and the entire dimension around it. This is having ripple effects into other dimensions. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what happens after that."
Tabaldak sighed heavily, and dropped Sam, who almost lost his balance. Sylvia helped steady him. "Those goddamn idiots. They're brothers! They can't get along for five freaking millennia?"
"The answer seems to be no," Cass replied. Was he actually getting sassy with a God? Were angels supposed to do that? Or if you weren't the angel of that particular God, were you allowed to be kind of pissy? There were so many questions Sam had about Gods and angels and hierarchies, and he was definitely still feeling some of the effects of the peyote.
When Tabaldak turned around, the setting changed. They were no longer in a cave behind a waterfall, but in what looked like a living room. Tabaldak was still eight feet tall and massively burly, but now he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and he had a soda in his hand, all his body paint gone. The snake was still holding his hair back. It flicked its tongue out at them. "I never should've created them. They've been nothing but trouble since they arrived."
"So maybe you should fix that?" Sylvia said. When he turned his gaze on her – which was still pretty intimidating – she added, "Sir."
"His brother fell through one of the dimensional rifts, and we need him back," Cass said, nodding his head in Sam's direction.
Tabaldak scowled. "Why? Oh, wait. Is he part of this whole Apocalypse bullshit your guy's got going on?"
Cass looked slightly offended by that. Was it the "your guy" remark? "Yes."
Tabaldak rolled his eyes, and emptied his soda in one gulp. He then crushed the can into a tiny ball in one fist, and threw it aside. A mountain lion came out of nowhere and started batting the aluminum ball back and forth. Was everyone seeing this, or was this the peyote? He honestly couldn't tell. "You don't ask for much, do you angel?" Only when Tabaldak walked out onto his wide outdoor deck did Sam realize the living room was open to the elements on the left side. Okay, was this because they were in the psychic realm, or was it the drugs? Or was this something gods just did? He was really worried he was about a minute away from freaking out. Damn it, he hated drugs! He just wasn't good on them.
Sylvia must have picked up on his mounting anxiety, because she put a hand on his arm, and said, "Just breathe, okay? Concentrate on that."
"Okay, thanks." He tried to do that. And then it occurred to him how weird breathing was. Was he doing it right? It kind of felt like he wasn't. Yeah, he wasn't taking enough breaths. Or maybe he was taking too many? Oh shit, what was the right number?
It occurred to him Cass and Tabaldak had been talking all this time, because he tuned in to them mid-sentence. " – you can do it, okay? You'll know your guy, right?"
"Of course."
"Great, fine. I'll hold a rift open long enough for you, and then I'll go smash those two idiots' heads together."
"Do you know what they're fighting about?" Sylvia asked, and then, once more, added, "Sir?"
Tabaldak shrugged. "Probably the same old shit. I mean, brothers, am I right?"
Sam attempted a laugh, but he wasn't sure it came out right. Was his throat closing up? He felt like maybe that was happening. Cass glanced at him curiously, like he was staring right through him. He probably was. Holy shit, was he reading his mind? "Are you okay, Sam?"
"Yeah, great," he lied, sure Cass knew he was lying. At least he wasn't one of those smiting angels. Usually.
Tabaldak chuckled. "White boy's a lightweight. He's having a peyote freak out."
"I'm taking them back. I'll be ready." Cass said, and grabbed Sam's arm. He was suddenly self-conscious about this.
Sam was back in the car with Cass and Sylvia, and he was still sweating like a bottle of ice cold beer on a hot day. Sam was about to get out of the car and … do something, he hadn't figured out what yet, when Cass touched the back of his head, and he felt a thousand percent better. It took him a moment to realize Cass had somehow taken the peyote out of him. Thank … well, Cass.
"I am so sorry," Sam said, feeling like he could use a shower. "I thought I could handle that better."
Cass shook his head. "No matter. It actually went better than I thought."
"It did?" Sam found that really surprising.
"Was I really in a God's living room?" Sylvia asked.
Sam nodded. "After a while, you get used to it." Well, sort of. He glanced back at Cass "So how's this going to work?" It took him a moment, but he realized something was off. The booms had stopped.
Cass cocked his head, hearing something they couldn't, and said, "I'll be back." He disappeared before Sam could ask him where he was going.
"You know, that's really fucking annoying." Sylvia said.
Sam couldn't disagree. But he also couldn't do shit about it.
Female Bobby did not have a beard. In fact, she looked a hell of a lot like Ellen, just ten years older. Dean almost called her Ellen before Dee called her Bobby, and the resemblance was enough to give him a twinge in his stomach. But if she was alternate dimension Ellen, at least she was still alive. That kind of made his heart hurt.
Bobby's place looked almost exactly like the Bobby's place he was used to. Making him a woman did not clean anything up, nor add a sense of style to anything. Old books were still piled up all over the place, the wooden floor was still paled by dust, and he found a couple of hidden liquor bottles, so that was holding steady too. It was kind of comforting.
He said his goodbyes to Sam before she was locked away in the detox bunker, and wished her luck. The fact that she had her own plan to use demon blood probably bothered Dean as much as it did Dee. He couldn't argue it wasn't effective, it seemed to help, but that was a dark road.
Cass didn't think they should go to Maine, even though it was where he initially fell into the dimensional tear. Cass thought it might make more sense to go where he came out, as that would be the most likely retrieval point. Dean figured if anyone knew this dimensional shit, it was Cass, not him, so he went along with it all. Dee came with. She said it was out of curiosity, but he got a sense she didn't want to go through the whole detox thing with Sam again, and he understood that.
So Cass zapped them to the abandoned warehouse in Seaside, California, where they wasted the rest of the night, doing absolutely nothing but pass a bottle of whiskey around. (Cass abstained. Cass would.) The dead demons were gone, but the broken table was still here, as was some of the dried blood on the floor.
Dean thought it was kind of nice he could just sit here with his female counterpart and not talk. Cass was quiet too, but Cass usually was. Dean was still thinking about what she said, and he understood now that he never really grasped the enormity of what Cass did for him. It was exactly like abandoning one dimension for a new one, where you hardly knew anyone, and didn't know the rules. A stranger in a strange land. Could he do that? Cass was a stronger being than he was, in more ways than one. He'd burnt his old world to the ground, and set out for the unknown. That was fucking hard core. Dean not only was sure he couldn't do that, but if he did, it might drive him crazy.
When the sun started coming up outside, and they were out of whiskey, Dean asked, "Should I just camp out here? We have no idea when another rift will open, if one does. How long do I wait?" They were all sitting on the floor, but only he and Dee were leaning against the wall. Cass seemed to have perfect posture.
Dee shook her head, as she didn't know, and Cass said, "It depends on many variables that are impossible to predict. It could occur in one minute. It could be ten years."
"Ten years?" Holy fuck, what was he supposed to do here for ten years. Could Cass and Sam stop the apocalypse without him? Could he help Sam and Dee and this Cass?
Cass stood up. "Must be your lucky day, Dean."
Cass – his Cass; the Jimmy Novak version – appeared in the center of the warehouse. He looked at his female counterpart, and seemed to recognize her immediately. "Hello Castiel," he said, not at all surprised to see himself here.
"And hello to you, Castiel," she replied.
"Whoa," Dee said, getting to her feet. "Your Castiel is super cute."
Dean shrugged and nodded. He was. "So's yours." He leaned over, and whispered, "I think Cass is a beauty snob." That made Dee chuckle.
Dean found himself facing down double barreled glares from both the Gabriela Cass and the Jimmy Cass. "We're cosmic beings, and we're standing right here." They said in unison.
Dean shrugged again. It was a valid observation. How could he have equally attractive vessels in two different dimensions? It smelled like a conspiracy. "Took you long enough to find me," Dean complained. He was actually just being a pain in the ass because he felt like Cass expected him to be. The ungrateful human, as always. Cass would probably die of a heart attack if he was ever grateful. "Settle the god fight?"
Cass nodded. "It's over. The dimensional rifts are healing, which is why we need to go. Tabaldak's patience isn't infinite."
Was that a name? It must have been. Dean didn't recognize it at all, but he figured Sam could explain it all to him later.
"He was behind this?" Female Cass asked. She recognized the name.
Male Cass shook his head. "Gluskab and Malsumis."
"I should have guessed. Always trouble, those two."
Dean was happy they knew what the hell they were talking about. He gave Dee a farewell hug, and said, "Take care of yourself."
"You too." She gave him a pat on the back, and whispered in his ear, "The fight's gotta be over someday."
He recalled his talk with Cass, and knew she had probably said the same thing to Dee. So Dee was trying to give him false hope, which was actually nice of her. So Dean just nodded, and said, "One day." Two could play the false hope game.
The funny thing was? He was pretty sure Dee knew he was lying too. But neither of them broke, giving each other tight smiles and a wave as they walked to their respective angel companions. The Castiels looked at each other, and said, in unison, "Good luck with that one." They then exchanged smiles that seemed to say this was some kind of inside joke, as both Dee and Dean gave their respective Cass's slightly evil looks.
Cass grabbed his arm, and there was the briefest sensation of falling sideways when he wasn't falling at all (weird), and then suddenly he and Cass were on the sidewalk of a town that looked like Godzilla had just been through it. There was even some weird, lumpy thing in the middle of the torn up street that could have been one of Godzilla's toes. "What the fuck happened here?"
"You weren't the only thing that traveled through the dimensional rifts," Cass said, and pointed at the lumpy thing. "That's one dimension's demon."
"You're shitting me." Clearly he wasn't, so before he could point out he didn't do that, Dean asked, "We somehow got lucky in the demon department?"
"Yes."
"Wow. That's … gonna be hard to believe." The town seemed deserted, but it was easy to guess why. "How long have I been gone?"
"The better part of a day."
"That short?" Wow. He expected so much worse. He supposed he should be grateful.
Dean stopped Cass with a hand on his arm. "Hey, uh … thanks."
Cass gazed at him curiously. "For what? I wasn't going to leave you in another dimension."
"No, I mean … for everything. I don't think I've ever thanked you. So ... thanks." God, this felt awkward. The funny thing was, he wanted to tell Cass he sort of got it, the enormity of the sacrifice he made for them - him – but he wasn't sure how to put it that didn't sound weird. He needed a few drinks before tackling this. Maybe a few dozen.
Cass looked confused for a moment, but either he understood what he was trying to say, or he just accepted it at face value. "You don't have to thank me for anything, Dean. I made my choice."
There was a question there, for what reason, but it was left unasked, because it seemed better that way. As it was, the doors of a metallic blue Charger opened, and Sam got out, with an attractive black haired woman he'd never seen before. "Dean, you okay?" Sam asked.
Dean shrugged, holding his arms open. "Fine as always."
"Aren't you?" The woman said. "Sam, you never told me your brother was this cute."
Sam rolled his eye and his shoulders sank in a way that told Dean he'd thought she was cute. Poor Sam. "And you are?" Dean asked.
She smiled, and it seemed like she was trying to be flirtatious, but he couldn't help but notice her pupils were blown out and huge. She was tripping balls. "Sylvia Wolf, hunter extraordinaire."
"Okay." He looked at Sam, and mouthed 'What is she on?'
"Peyote," Cass said.
Dean stared at him. "What?"
"It's a long story," Sam said. "I'll tell you all about it on the ride to the Impala."
"He was on peyote too," Sylvia said, pointing at Sam. "Couldn't handle it." She tried to suppress it, but she failed, and giggled.
"Wait, what? You did peyote?" Dean was having a hard time not laughing. Sam was not an illicit substance guy (save for demon blood). The one time Dean got him stoned he got so paranoid Dean had to keep him from hyperventilating and locking himself in the bathroom with a gun and a container of salt. Happy drunk, but the rest of the stuff, not so much. "How the hell did I miss this? Got some for me?"
Sam gave him a cutting look. "No. Where were you?"
"A dimension where you and me are sisters."
Sylvia laughed at this, but Sam just looked puzzled. "Really?"
"Yep. And chick you's pretty cool." Well, when she wasn't getting all hopped up on demon blood. "Chick me is … pretty scary."
Sam barked a laugh. "I bet."
"No, I'm serious. I saw her shoot two people in the face."
"So you on a bad day?" Sam seemed to enjoy his little joke, and Dean let him have it.
He was glad to be back in his home dimension. Even if he had no idea what the fuck he was supposed to do about the Apocalypse, or how they were supposed to end it or survive it.
And his mind kept drifting back to Sam chugging that demon blood. His Sam would never do that, right? He wouldn't consider it a Plan B no matter how bad things got, would he? They'd been down that road too many times. You'd think that was all behind them now.
Except the fight was never over, was it? None of them. Just the thought of it made Dean feel tired and in desperate need of a beer.
So Dean decided not to think about it right now. He was just going to let it go, and enjoy being where he was supposed to be. But, first opportunity, he was getting that beer.
The End
