Chapter 2
This is it. This is how I'm going to die. I knew that angel's plan wouldn't work, now I'm trapped in some stupid spiral that isn't going to end. Ugh. Swirling around in the same red light that was currently still flying around the building where Castiel was picking at the hangnail on his right index finger.
Up ahead of the red light, Dean could see a bright yellow light. Is this death? Again? Really? REALLY!? Dean tried to open his mouth to yell out for Cas to stop this, but all that came out was some weird language Dean hadn't ever heard of but he understood. Dean smirked to himself That angel is smart.
The impending brightness was too much for Dean's eyes, which were now accustomed to the dull glow of the red light. Expecting to fall gracefully, his heart dropped when he fell to a thud on the dirt. Looking up he squinted, his jaw dropping. This place was beautiful; it had some raw intense beauty that was indescribable. The stones placed around the brown ground fell in to some weird symmetry and the mountains looked like the ones he had sometimes seen in paintings. The grey demanding mountains with the snow which rested like a cap. This was a world before the pollution of technology had ruptured the vital organs of the earth and you could practically hear her dying. This was the time of Jesus.
Walking in the desert, Dean felt an ineffable amount of peace. His heart felt lighter and happier. He knew now why people always spoke of the past in such a gleeful tone. They were healthier. The earth breathed in and out and he felt the negativity of his original thoughts seep out of consciousness. If he didn't come here to stop the curse on Sammy, he would've stayed here with his brother, and maybe Cas. Dean wondered if he called Cas now, would the past angel appear? Probably not, Dean didn't command the authority that he did in the future. That was something he wouldn't have in the past, the labels and the stigma.
Although he acted as though he loved being feared by all creatures great and small, the annoying yet cunning Winchester's, all he really wanted was to be loved and cared for. To have the hands of someone wrapped upon his shoulder and lift some of the weight. Of course there'd be a lot of sex, but that was just a given when you dated devilish Dean Winchester.
Dean continued wandering along the path, wiping beads of sweat as they fell upon his forehead. He knew he should've asked Cas what the temperature was going to be, but he figured he'd handle it. He took off his leather jacket and placed it gingerly on a large boulder. The light reflecting off the jacket blinded his eyes so he turned it inside out and put it down again. Still too hot in his clothes, he took both his plaid red shirt and his singlet off and wrapped them over his head like he'd seen in those Western films. Figuring he'd go all out on this, he grabbed the nearest stick and tying his jacket to the top of it began to imagine himself as Moses, leading his people out of Egypt.
Beginning to think he'd lost it in the hour he'd been here (he didn't really care for that matter, because who was going to see him?), Dean called out to his people "Free people of Israel, this is Moses-Dean speaking, I have led God's chosen people out of Egypt and into the Promised Land of Babes and Milk." Mimicking the roar of the crowd, a smile crept upon his full lips and his green eyes twinkled in the sunlight sky. He felt oddly serene here, watching the fake, mirage-type people walking with him. He liked being a leader and people following his word because they trusted his judgement. Back home he was greeted with anxiety and contradiction, "Dean I don't think that's the best way" was pretty much Sam's catchphrase. But here, leading God's people back to their land was good. In your imagination, no one says no. Nobody says "I don't like that idea". There's only blind faith and trust. Dean liked that.
Leading his people further into the desert and, hopefully, he thought, to Jesus, Dean began to notice a group of people getting closer to him. They were riding on horses and coming in fast, the dust whirling around their brown horses and white cloth. Dean held his stick up in a defensive pose, similar to the Ninja-Turtle's pose of choice. Dean thought something like this would happen and told Cas he should've brought a gun or something of the sort with him, but Cas strictly forbid any such weaponry "You're to fight with your words Dean. These people won't be as kind to you if you could shoot them down in a second" Castiel's voice echoed in Dean's mind. Focusing more on what he could do to protect himself, Dean shook his head people respond better to fear, especially when I only need help for a moment.
The horses began to spiral around Dean and the Arabian dressed people raised their weapons. Dean raised his as well, when suddenly "Peace brothers! He is not one of us!" came booming across. The men grabbed their horses and reigned them in. Silently they all stood, Dean focusing on the best way to escape if he needed too. He knew he was grievously outnumbered and these people would fight as dirty as he would if they need to. Flight, not fight, was the best course of action. But he was curious, curious to see this play out. It's a strange innate sensation of humanity; curiosity. We tend to put down our guard and venture into the enchantress of the unknown only to come out worse at the end. The saying holds an enormous amount of truth right now, and always will 'curiosity can, and did, kill the cat'.
Dean stood there, waiting for what was going to happen. "My brothers he is not one of us!" came a different booming voice from in front of him. A tall man, on the side of the one who just spoke, with a long grey beard, came down off his horse and walked closer to Dean. Dean could see the caramel of the man's skin, and the wrinkles chiseled across his face. It was like looking at Father Time.
What stopped Dean from attacking this man right then and there was the oozing aura of authority, wisdom and power that came off this man. He literally seemed to be overpowering Dean as they both stood there and watched each other. "You, boy, what is your name?" the man asked, his voice didn't seem to have a low volume. Dean quickly searched his mind for a name that felt old, "Julius" he said nervously already regretting his choice. Julius is Roman! he thought these people hate the Romans! Already Dean could those on their horses fidgeting for their weapons, edging closer and getting ready to kill him. "Well ,Julius," spoke the man, putting particular emphasis on 'Julius', "you don't seem to be traveling with anything I've ever seen before." "That's cause, that's cause," Dean stuttered, "that's because I came along to help my cousins who lived in Bethlehem." The man raised his eyes, "You have cousins in Bethlehem? You're a Jew with a Roman name? How strange..." the man turned and scanned the horizon, as if waiting for a legion of Roman soldiers to appear out of thin air. "Yeah, I'm half Roman," Dean said, praying that his wit would save him, "my mother's a Roman and my dad's Jewish..." his voice trailing off into the distance.
The man continued to stare at Dean, half bemused half confused. This story isn't working out Dean thought and he looked around for where he could run and hide, but none of the rocks were big enough to hide behind. "Well then, Julius, do you practice our faith, do you believe in God?" Dean nodded and the man seemed pleased enough. "Good then, you're more us than them! It's not completely awful then! My name is Yaakov of the tribe of Judah and these are my brothers," he gestured around to those currently surrounding both he and Dean, "we would be honoured if you would dine with us tonight. We've been journeying long and hard and need to rest." He ended his sentiment by signalling his brothers to come off their horses. "Come Julius, let us talk about your journey. You seem to well suited for work, are you married I have the perfect girl for you?" Yaakov placed his hand around Dean's and gestured for him to sit down on the closest flat rock. "Begin your tale Julius, I'm waiting."
