I do not own Star Trek 2009, Supernatural, NCIS, NCIS: LA or Firefly.

Enterprise

"Well this is just fantastic," Dean drawled. "I've always wanted to go on a field trip to one of the most turbulent periods space has ever experienced. Let's not forget that the Vulcans are busy tearing each other apart and they haven't acquainted themselves with humans yet."

"Actually, that's probably a good thing," Kirk admitted.

"I beg your pardon, captain?" Spock asked.

Kirk winced. "I'll be the first to admit we humans aren't exactly peaceable creatures when even remotely threatened. I don't really want to think about what would happen if humanity were involved."

"So we're keeping our heads down," Dean stated.

"Spock, where are we on getting home?" Kirk asked to move their conversation over to something more constructive. Spock actually shifted uncomfortably in his seat. If he had been human, frustration and chagrin would have been rolling off the Vulcan in waves. He glanced over at Chekov, who shrugged minutely. "You have no idea," Kirk filled in.

A faint flush of green tinged the top of the Vulcan's pointy ears. "I did not have sufficient time analyzing the anomaly on the proper side of the vortex. I cannot draw any conclusions regarding the anomaly or how it functions. Additionally, it does not appear to allow travel in the opposite direction."

"Based on what you can see out the window," Kirk said dryly. Spock nodded.

"Great. Scotty?"

"Aye, capt'n?"

"Best get that Atlantean cloak up and running. Let me know how long you think it can stay active if we just sit here and twiddle our thumbs so Spock can figure out how to get us home." Kirk paused. "There haven't been any adverse effects from our little hop through time and space, have there?"

"Not so far as I can tell, capt'n. I've got Keenser on it. Little bugger might be a sandwich thief but he knows this lady almost as well as I do."

"Right. Uhura, I want you scanning for any activity out there on any channels, even if it's nothing more than a traffic update in the Koor'in Nebula. Winchester, I think Scotty could use you in engineering. I need to know exactly what resources we have on board in case Spock decides we need to build H.G. Wells' time machine." Kirk slanted his friend a glance. Dean nodded equably, understanding that two captains on one bridge was a bad idea even if they were buddies and he wasn't the Enterprise captain. It would be up to Dean to step down with grace. Plus, now he could try out that idea, the one Sam had refused to allow. Scotty was always up for an adventure.

Plus it would keep his mind away from nerve-wracking questions like "What if they didn't find a way back?"

Impala

They had been out here for days. The Los Angeles had stuck around as long as she could but Starfleet had called Callen back to deal with some sort of armed protest a few systems over. Hetty had taken what data Sam had with her to puzzle over but officially, Starfleet's brightest had come up with zilch.

"Passive. Practically intert. No significant power readings whatsoever," Sam muttered under his breath for the umpteenth time. The admirals refused to let him pitch something through for empirical experimental purposes. He rattled his fingers off the edge of the console but stopped abruptly when he realized the rest of the crew was dispirited and looking to him for answers.

As far as Sam and his astute scientists could tell, neither Enterprise nor Dean's shuttle had been yanked away at impossible speeds. Nor had they been disintegrated (thank goodness), which left the more esoteric solutions – time travel or alternate realities. If Sam had to guess, he'd say that the missing ships had encountered time travel. The few recorded incidents of alternate realities had involved massive power surges and complicated boomerang effects.

He hoped.

That still didn't help him much. Accidental time travel hadn't exactly been covered in his rather extensive Starfleet education, he grumped to himself.

Accidental time travel.

"Well, there was that time when Jack tripped over a time travelling Ancient puddle jumper." Carter had laughed and waved a hand airily. "Still not entirely sure how it works exactly, but I'm studying it in my spare time.

"Carter," Sam blurted aloud.

"Beg pardon?" Castiel asked from where he was feverishly scanning space yet again just in case the scientific geniuses had missed something.

"SG-1 has experienced time travel! They might have some ideas," Sam's brain kicked into high gear, "and even if they don't, they've got a shuttle that goes back in time."

"Dude, they won't give it to us. SG-1 might but the IOA won't," Shari from alpha shift pointed out reluctantly, having taken over Ash's navigational postion. "Hey, we could steal it!"

"Absolutely not." Sam quashed that idea right off the bat. "Well, a least not yet," he qualified after a minute. "Cas, get us to that intergalactic gate at warp 9. God only knows what Dean and Jim are getting up to in ancient times."

"Or future times," Shari pointed out flippantly and a whole new level of concern settled over the crew. Enterprise was damn durable but if she was several hundred years in the future, she could be sadly outclassed. "Sorry," the wacky scientist offered weakly.

"Castiel, warp nine if you please," Sam ordered, stamping down fear.

Washington

"Well, McGee?"

Timothy McGee frowned in consternation. He didn't like disappointing his captain. None of them did. But this Lucifer freak was either way ahead of them in tech or he was magical. The trail just ended with a dusting of that weird-ass sulphur. He had sent some down to Abby, who added it to her collection. At least she hadn't named the samples yet. "Sorry Captain," he admitted reluctantly. "I don't have any progress to report. Hell, I don't even know what I'm looking for."

McGee looked so depressed that even Dinozzo didn't have the heart to poke fun at him. Gibbs was silent, turning his attention away from his crew for a minute. They were thinking outside the box, sure, but it seemed like they had bumped up against a bigger box. Like nesting dolls, every time they bent their brains far enough to get a handle on what Lucifer had done, he was already outside their grasp.

"Has anyone talked to Winchester's buddy, what's-his-name, trader, Reynolds?"

Everyone swivelled around to shoot their captain a curious glance. Ziva checked her logs. "Not as far as I can tell, captain."

"Dial him up," Gibbs ordered thoughtfully. "He hopped realities, didn't he? Should be able to give Sam Winchester some idea if the missing ship time travelled or not. He can also tell us if that connection of his went two ways. Maybe something or someone from his world is letting Lucifer hop around like a grasshopper."

"You sure Reynolds is going to be okay with us contacting him like that, boss?" Dinozzo asked with concern. "From what I heard, he was catching flack from other traders for getting too cozy with Starfleet."

"Winchester and Kirk are missing. He'll get over it." Gibbs stated in his usual direct manner. "If we don't catch up with Lucifer and the Federation economy falls, Reynolds will be dealing directly with Romulans and Klingons, who aren't nearly as friendly as us. Ziva, let me know when you've got him on the line."

The Israeli officer nodded and a minute later, she was listening impassively to a rather impressive rant. "Captain Reynolds, sir. He insists he is going to speak his mind." Ziva brought the rather irate captain up on the bridge viewscreen.

"Do you have any idea how bad this is for my business?" the Browncoat captain blazed, his hands waving around indignantly. "You're not even the usual Starfleet idiots! I don't give a damn what stupid world-ending conundrum you've stumbled over this time, you sure as hell don't need me to fix it because I'm not going to!"

"Winchester and Kirk are missing," Gibbs began.

"No. No. Hell no. We are not intergalactic captain-rescuers! My contacts aren't speaking to me, business is dropping off and my engines are on the fritz again."

Gibbs allowed himself a very small grin. No wonder Winchester liked the man. Captain Reynolds seemed like a very honest man – if he was angry or happy with you, you were going to know about it. He was probably a man of his word but there was a world-weary twist to his mouth that said cheating Reynolds would be difficult to say the least. And if you looked past the bluster, there was a quiet grieving to the man, something that said he'd seen more than anyone should ever have to.

"I need to know if they time-travelled or if they hopped realities," Gibbs dove in when Reynolds paused for breath.

"What?"

"They were sucked into an anomaly and Starfleet isn't letting us send probes through until we've determined if they time-travelled or are in an alternate reality. You're from an alternate reality. Do you or any of your crew have insight on the matter?"

Reynolds plopped into his captain's chair with a huffed sigh. "Look, if Winchester and Kirk had skipped into another reality, you'd know. It was a massive energy surge and we were just lucky we came into your space in one of the clearest, deadest areas I've ever seen. Time travel, I got nothin'."

Gibbs nodded to Ziva. She'd pass the word onto Sam.

"And the other?" Gibbs prompted.

Reynolds frowned. "Did anyone come in with us? Not that I can tell. Why?" he asked warily.

"Undoubtedly you know that Lucifer is on the loose. Someone has been teleporting, for lack of a better word, the bastard all over Federation space and we can't get a lead on him." Gibbs crossed his arms while Reynolds considered the implications of such ability.

"Nothing that came with us. Our world didn't have any tech like that. If it did, I'd have stolen it and turned it to my own nefarious purposes." A quick grin gleamed in the dim light of Reynolds' ship. "I can put the word out that Luci's feeling frisky. Traders might not like Starfleet much, but everyone knows Starfleet doesn't phaser first and ask questions later."

"Appreciate it," Gibbs said good-naturedly. Reynolds glowered and Gibbs could see him wondering if he dared to flip this new captain a rude gesture. Gibbs was pretty sure he'd have done it to Winchester or Kirk. "Tell your trader buddies that I remember untangling the Certaan mess and they were happy enough to work with me then. Haven't screwed over a trader before, during or since."

Reynolds blinked. "That was you?" The Washington bridge crew all smirked, each one bearing its own Gibb-influenced twist. "Damn." The trader wasn't exactly respectful after that but Gibbs could see the angry fire die down. Mentioning Gibbs wouldn't fix Reynolds' problems but it'd help.

"Find'em, Captain," Reynolds finally said. "I know my reputation's shot so I'd help if I could but I've got nothing to bring to the table. The two of them are an enormous pain in my ass but they're good men with good crews. Reynolds out."

"He didn't give us much, did he?" Dinozzo complained.

"He eliminated a whole bunch of possibilities," McGee pointed out. "We can focus on the ones that remain. It's helpful."

Gibbs ignored his bickering crew and stared blindly at the blank viewscreen. It had been too quiet. Nine days since Lucifer's escape, eight since Enterprise went missing. It felt like the calm before the storm. For all that he had told Admiral Pike Lucifer had learned patience, Gibbs felt certain that Lucifer hadn't learned that much patience.

"Captain," Ziva summoned urgently. Gibbs walked over and Ziva gestured at the screen, dismay written all over her face.

It had started.

Starfleet

The Federation stock market blipped out of existence in exactly eight minutes and forty one seconds. Every Federation analyst who had been absolutely positive that Lucifer couldn't hack their beefed-up system choked in horror and scrambled to shore up the crumbling defences but Lucifer's worm was unstoppable.

The value of Federation credits plummeted. Riots began to break out across Federation space as the news spread like poisonous gas to every corner of the galaxy, including Klingon and Romulan space. Starfleet's enemies started closing in immediately, nibbling at the Neutral Zone. Starfleet Command immediately instituted martial law, clamping down on precious resources and ignoring the giant elephant labelled "Starfleet Debt" lurking in the figurative centre of the room.

Admiral Pike felt like a very old man all of a sudden. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. This sort of attack wasn't really his thing. The Intelligence Office was usually pretty good about looking after the electronic side of warfare but they had been rocked by corruption lately and due to unexpected, almost crippling accountability, had had their hands tied.

The Impala had gone haring off to the intergalactic gate on their quest to find the Enterprise but the truth of the matter was that even if Sam found his brother and Jim Kirk, there was little to no reversing the damage wrought. Even if Jim and Dean pulled off their usual miracle, time was money, after all.

The most he could do was drag Dr. McCoy's mother, little Joanna and John Winchester up to Pike's current office and yank them all onto the Miranda-class ship Pike had decided he was going to appropriate when it all went to hell. That way when Dean and Jim did turn up, he could look them in the eye and say that their families were safe.

In the meantime, he stared mournfully at the Constellation. He figured it would be about a week before she was dismantled and sold for scrap to futilely try to pay Starfleet debts. Pike was waiting for the IO officer who would inevitably show up and demand Pike attend court tomorrow for disobeying a direct order and sending the Los Angeles, Washington and Impala out of immediate contact. Pike figured by the time anyone managed to contact the ships, events would be in such chaos that the ships would be out on their own, essentially self-contained little worlds capable of defending themselves.

Enterprise

"Captain," Uhura called in a worried tone of voice. "Captain, there's someone hailing us."

Kirk spun around. "That's impossible. We're invisible. Are they sending a general hail?"

The pretty communications officer shook her head. "They're hailing us. The USS Enterprise." Curious now, Kirk hoisted himself out of his chair and paced across the back of the bridge.

"Pull the ship up on screen," Kirk ordered. The screen flickered to show what had to be the forerunner of Romulan birds-of-prey. Surprisingly, it was sleeker than the current versions and dipped through space with grace. It was looping about in a clear search pattern and Kirk frowned. "Broadcast on speakers."

"Hailing the USS Enterprise under the command of Captain James Tiberius Kirk. Hailing the USS Enterprise under the command of Captain James Tiberius Kirk." It was a curious voice, definitely male and probably Vulcan but strangely strained, as if the speaker was attempting to suppress great emotion. Uhura cut it off after a minute or so.

"I believe it's a recording, captain," she said quietly.

"Captain, that ship's internal systems are severely compromised," Spock reported. "There are faint life signs but several are failing fast."

"Battle, Spock?"

The Vulcan tilted his head, considering. "I do not believe so. Probabilities lean towards sabotage."

"I'd like to help them," Kirk mused thoughtfully. "But it does beg the question – how the hell did they know of our existence? Uhura, open up a channel. If there's an image, put it up."

She nodded and the screen flickered again, this time connecting with the mystery ship. The bridge was hazy with smoke, clearly suffering from some sort of internal explosion. "Autopilot," Kirk muttered. "They knew we'd be here." He stepped up and cleared his throat. "This is Captain James Tiberius Kirk. Do you require our assistance?"

A blackened, dirty hand appeared in the bottom of the screen and a big frame hauled itself up to peer over the pilot's console. Barely regulation hair was pushed wearily off the individual's forehead and Kirk had to stifle his surprise as Uhura gasped.

"Dean?" the spectre asked, righting the broken pilot's chair and settling gingerly into it. The impossible apparition definitely appeared to be real, blood trickling scarlet down his face and he swiped irritably at it.

Kirk's reply jumped out before he could stop himself. "Down in engineering."

"Oh good. I didn't undershoot the mark again. Keep him down there, will you? And don't tell him I'm talking to you."

"Sam, what the hell are you doing on a Romulan bird of prey, where is the Impala and how the hell are you even here? Undershoot the mark again?" Kirk demanded.

Sam Winchester waved a hand tiredly. "Jim, could we do this later? My stolen ship is about to blow up and I need you to rescue everyone on it."

Kirk swallowed his surprise. "Sure. We'll mass-transport everyone else but I want you up here on the bridge ASAP."

"No can do," Sam replied. "You see, I have to die right here, right now."