When Dean came to, he was lying in a muddy ditch at the side of a road. Say what you will about waking up in muddy ditches, and Dean's had his fair share of occasions, but this was by far the worst. It stunk like high heaven for starters, and when Dean shifted his arm it came away with a sucking noise, covered in muck. He pulled himself out with a grim face, scanning his surroundings.
There was a grunt from the other side of the road, and Sam clambered up over the side.
"This is shit." He stated.
"Do you mean our situation or the stuff dripping off us, cos I was never optimistic about it to start with, but I'm really thinking it might be actual shit now."
Sam gave him a look.
"And where's Cass anyway? Don't tell me he's abandoned us in this wasteland." As if on que, there was a pained groan from behind one of the stone walls bordering the track, and a muddied hand flung itself over the top.
"Tell me that's Cass and not a zombie." Sam said warily. A second hand joined the first and with another, frankly unnecessary groan, Cass's head popped up over the boundary. "Thank God," mumbled Sam, "I was so not in the mood."
They assembled in the centre of the track, dripping slime and gunge onto the dry dirt. Happily, Dean realised he'd got the best deal of the lot, being less coated in mud, and felt smugly justified in pointing this out to the others. He was met with stony glares.
After a quick scramble around the area, they concluded that not only had they lost all their weapons, but their phones, fake Ids and pretty much everything that wasn't sewn onto their clothing itself. Oh- and Cass had lost his angel mojo.
"So we're screwed." Blurted Dean.
"It does appear to be that way." Agreed Cass unhelpfully. "I suggest we follow this road and search for aid."
"Yeah, which would be so much easier if I had my car! Pink or not!"
"I fail to see how the color of-"
Their bickering was cut off by the growl of an engine in the distance, and the smell of petrol approaching. Half a mile in the distance, a car was approaching over the crest of a hill.
"Bingo." Said Dean.
They hitch hiked in the mini for several hours, the driver being reluctant to take them anywhere in the state they were in, but not quite cruel enough to abandon them in the middle of nowhere, 45 miles apparently, from the nearest civilisation. They must have looked a right sight, three tall, grown men crushed together in the back seat. Sam had suggested that they move some of the boxes from the front to the boot to make room in the passenger seat, but the old man just shrugged and said the boot was just as full, so that put a stop to that idea. Not only was Dean slammed uncomfortably against the side door, hoping against hope that it didn't spring open, but the driver reeked of cigarettes and stale beer. His body odour was practically pungent, and it made Dean want to hurl. Cass looked pretty queasy too.
Therefore, it was a tremendous relief, (though he'd never admit it) when they were finally let out in a large town called Craigton. The guy drove off after giving them directions to the nearest cheap motel, but they had no cash anyway, so they instead headed off in search of the first bar they could, and stumbled in to try and cheat some poker.
"Please excuse me," grumbled Cass as they stepped into the warmth, and he marched off in the direction of the bathroom. Dean couldn't blame him. Most of the gunge had dried off or crusted over on the journey, but Cass had got a face full, and there were still smears around his nose and in his eyebrows.
"Poor guy," Said Sam sympathetically, "must be tough losing his powers again."
Dean grunted his regards.
He was eternally grateful that poker existed in this universe, since Dean didn't think he could have coped teaching a bunch of useless aliens the rules of the game, only to cheat them out of their money. So sue him- he did have some conscience.
As it was, it didn't take long to ramp up the bets and score a tidy sum, plus a couple of beers on the house. Instead of being pissed, a lot of the locals were actually pretty impressed with his talents, saying they didn't get a lot of newcomers around there. Dean basked in their attention, and had to be dragged away by Sam before he got carried away and started drunk bragging about wasting vampires. God, he could imagine how that would have gone down.
Following the directions from the driver, and with several hundred dollars tucked safely into the waistband of his jeans, it was easy enough to stagger into a motel and book a room. The stay was for as long as they needed, and although they didn't plan to stay long, Dean had a feeling they were gonna be stuck here a while. They'd need some more cash soon.
The suite was disgusting, but what can you expect on a budget? The sheets were pale yellow, like baby puke, and the curtains alone were enough to give him pastel nightmares for weeks. It had three separate beds though, which was more than could be said for the other vacancies.
"Why couldn't we have booked the double room?" Frowned Cass.
"Well, I figured with your angel mojo zapped, you'd be needing some shut eye, and I dunno about you Cass, but I'm not too keen on sharing sheets."
"The other room was cheaper."
"Hey, hey, if you wanna share, no need to make excuses," Dean winked Sleazily, "I'm always free."
"Ugh gross Dean." Yelled Sam from the bathroom.
Cass stood in the centre of the room uncomfortably for a long moment, then he turned to Dean and said,
"I'm going out."
"Knock yourself out." Replied Dean. He couldn't care less what Cass got up too, as long as he didn't put himself in unnecessary danger. Being human had it's benefits, and drawbacks, and Cass's vulnerability was not gonna do much for Dean's stress levels.
Cass left quickly after, though he looked so unused to using the lock and door handle that Dean almost offered to go with him, just to save him the hassle.
"Shit. I'm tired." He exclaimed, as soon as the door slammed shut. "I guess godly teleporting knocks you out like that."
Sam re-entered the room, a towel draped across his shoulders. His hair was still dripping from the mud-removal shower.
"What time is it anyway?" Sam asked. "It was midmorning where we were, but that bar was bursting."
Dean turned over the clock on the bedside table.
"It's six in the evening." He said, surprised. "That's just weird."
"Huh." Agreed Sam.
Dean considered taking a nap, but by the time he made himself comfortable with the pillows, he suddenly felt wide awake. Checking the clock again, it read 6:45. Hardly any time had passed. Sam was still flitting through the leaflets and brochures from the sideboard.
"Wanna take a walk?" Dean asked. Sam looked up from his browsing, surprised.
"Sure, why not?"
They locked the room up behind them, and made their way towards the high street and shops. It was still light for the evening, which was another strange thing, as back home the season would have meant night fell at at least five. The area was pretty quiet, but the restaurants and big places were still lit with lights. Sam drank it all in, turning to stare at everything from the place signs to the lampposts. Dean just sauntered along, glad for the fresh air, until Sam froze.
"Hey... Dean. I think I recognise this place." Said Sam slowly. "Remember Springfield, Missouri?"
"Yeah..." replied Dean. "With the banshees?"
"Yeah. Does that chip shop look familiar to you?"
Dean squinted at the faded sign, which read 'Chip in for chips.' There was something familiar in the streaked door and plastic yellow chairs perched on the pavement.
"I think we're in Springfield. But, alternate universe Springfield." Finished Sam
"More like an alternate dimension entirely." Countered Cass from behind them. Dean jumped.
"Dude! A little warning next time!?"
"Where've you been?" Asked Sam, "And what do you mean alternate dimension? I've been stuck in time loops before and this seems pretty damn similar."
"I've been scouting the area." Cass spoke in his usual monotonous voice. "We appear to be on a different platform of reality entirely. This is no mere vision like the one Dean had."
Cass must be referring to the time he was stuck in no-monster-ville. That was kind of pleasant at first, identical in every way to their world. Same people, same places: just a different story. This Springfield lookalike was different now that he thought about it... The street structure was different, the shops and sign names held a tinge of familiarity but were different, and Dean would bet his fortune (which was, admittedly, very little right now), that not one person was the same as in their universe. Or dimension- whatever. Cass had a point.
"So, what does that mean?"
"It means it can't be manipulated or bent to our will. This place has it's own life energy. We are not only trapped by the demon goddess, we have been transported a great distance. I believe that is why my grace has no power here."
"We're in a world with no angels?"
"Yes."
"So we're stuck here? "
"Yes."
"I still don't get it," Said Sam blearily, "You're telling me that, what- we're on a completely different planet?"
"In theory... " hummed Cass, rubbing the back of his neck in that embarrassed way of his. "But it has strong connections to our own. Like the chip shop. Our dimensions are joined but do not depend on each other; we will find little patterns to our own universe here. We must be on guard."
"Well that's just great." Grumbled Dean sarcastically.
"I do not understand-"
"What's new." Dean interrupted.
The annoyed look Sam gave him was harsh, but then again, he did just cut off an innocent, confused angel mid question. OK... Now he was feeling the guilt.
"I only meant... that this is gonna be... Uh. A great new experience."
The hopeful look Cass gave him was totally worth it.