AN: Here we go, another chapter of Kryptonite. This one's called A Hard Day's Knight. Enjoy.

Summary: Dean wakes up only to find that he and Sam have somehow traveled to an odd new dimension.

"Dean." Someone pushed on his shoulder. Dean ignored them. They began to shake him. "Get up, Dean."

"Go 'way, Sammy," he groaned. "I didn't do it."

There was a pause. "What didn't you do?"

"Uh. What do you think I did?"

"Nothing. Dean, you have to get up."

"Who says?" Dean grumped.

"I do. Now get up. Something's wrong."

Dean finally opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was his brother's face. "I'll say."

Sam shot him a look.

"Alright, already." Dean pushed himself up with a sigh. "What's up?"

"Look around, Dean."

Dean looked around.

They weren't in Kansas (aka, a hotel room) anymore.

The bedroom they were in was what one would call . . . quaint. The wallpaper was a white background with pink bubbled all over it. There were soft quilted rugs all over the fluffy beige carpet. The bed he sat on was covered by a quilt with different kinds of flowers on it. Roses. Sunflowers. Daisies. Other (just as girly) flora. The bed itself was made of wood. All in all, it looked like they were in some kind of cottage. Owned by a kindly elderly woman who liked to knit. And collect.

Dean gazed around in horror.

Doilies. Doilies everywhere.

"What the hell?"

Sam grimaced. "Yeah. Now look outside."

Dean wasn't sure he wanted to, but he stood up and walked with Sam to the front door, noting that the rest of the house was much like the bedroom.

At the door, he reached for the knob and pushed it open. He then stared out at tall, richly green grass, strong, thick trees with deep brown bark, lush bushes with vibrant leaves, and above it all, a pale blue sky mostly covered by light grey clouds. Mist made the air chill and damp.

Not a sign of other civilization.

"And again, what the hell?"

Not exactly eloquent, but the sentiment was genuine.

"Where the hell are we?" Dean looked around, but the scenery didn't change.

"No idea."

After a while, when nothing happened, except for Dean's stomach gurgling, they went back inside, moving to the kitchen.

"Is there any food in this damn granny cottage?" Dean grumbled. Then he opened the small refrigerator and found a freshly baked peach pie. "I take it back," he declared. "I love this place."

Sam briefly wondered if they should really be eating someone else's food, but the question was asked too late as Dean was already digging in. Sam combed around and found some cottage cheese, along with some strawberry jam, honey, and pepper.

"All that health is gonna kill you someday," Dean said with a wink. Sam just rolled his eyes and kept eating.

After breakfast, they searched for their weapons, but they were nowhere to be found.

"Great. Just great." Dean sighed. They rummaged around in the kitchen and found some suitably sharp knives. Taking the cutlery, they then strode out into the misty morning light. It was a truly beautiful day.

Sam ignored Dean's grimace as he stepped through the wet grass that reached just below their knees.

After a while, Dean stopped.

Sam turned around. "Dean?" He then followed his brother's stare to find a man in black armor sitting atop an equally black horse several paces away from them.

The horse snorted and pawed at the ground. The knight had it begin to walk toward them when someone shouted suddenly. The black knight stopped.

Dean stepped back as a white horse came to a stop beside him. The rider's armor was, like his horse, white. The two knights stared at each other for a long moment before the black one gave a growl and turned away.

The white knight watched until he was gone, then turned to face Sam and Dean. "Are you well?"

Dean eyed him warily. "Uh, yeah. We're fine. Who are you?"

"A moment, please." The knight reached up and pulled his helmet off, sighing in relief when he did so. Then he looked down at Sam and Dean, who were gaping at him. "I apologize. I am Sir Castiel." He tilted his head slightly. "Of the Knights of Haeven."

"Cas?" Dean said incredulously.

"Sir Castiel," he corrected. He then frowned at them. "And who might you be?"

Sam stared up at him and reflected that the day had just gotten so much weirder.

Sam and Dean followed Cas-excuse me, Sir Castiel. They were on foot and he was still on his horse. He was currently taking them to-hemhem-Haeven.

"So," Dean said casually, "who was that other knight?"

"That was a Daemon. That is what we call the knights of Hael," Sir Castiel added. "The king of Hael, Lucifer, gathered all those who are immoral. Corrupt. Hael is the nemesis of Haeven."

"And I suppose Haeven is all that's righteous and true?" Dean said sarcastically.

Castiel was silent for a moment, then he sighed. "I wish that I could say that it is. I believe that most of my people are good, but there are some . . . whom I doubt." His eyes went distant, and Dean wondered if he was thinking of Uriel. It figured that the Uriel of this world would also be a douche.

Castiel shook his head and glanced at the two Winchesters. "What about you two? Where do you hale from?"

"We're from Lawrence, Kansas," Sam said.

"I've never heard of it. Who is your king?"

"Uh. Led Zeppelin." Dean caught the look Sam shot him and shrugged.

"I apologize. I don't know who that is."

"It's fine," Sam said quickly. "It's a very small kingdom."

Sir Castiel nodded and they continued on.

Some time later, they finally approached the gate leading into Haeven. At said gate, a guard stopped them. He nodded to Sam and Dean. "Who are they?"

"They are knights from the land of Lawrence, Kansas," Sir Castiel responded. "They seek shelter in Haeven."

"You vouch for their honor?"

"I do."

"Very well, then." The guard led them to a small door beside the gate.

And that was the start of a long, strange adventure in which, afterwards, Sir Castiel never looked at pie the same way again.

Yes, I know, it was short, but I did say that these stories were never finished. That means short chapters. However, it also means interesting plots. Hope you liked this one.

Next up: Normal AU. Sometimes you have bad days . . . and then sometimes you have horrifying, stumble-upon-a-dead-body, wanted-by-the-police kind of days. Unfortunately for Dean, he was having the latter.

Next up:

Weird Randomness!

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"Let us worship at the altar of Saint Dean. Saint Dean said 'Dude, you've gotta try this, it's friggin' incredible.' And thus there was pie."

A hand shot up. "What about Saint Sam, Sister Anna?"

The pretty nun smiled gently. "Well, Saint Sam said 'That'll give you diabetes.' And lo, there was diabetes. That is why only the truly desperate worship at His altar. They eat Salad for every meal and only ever drink water or the Health Drinks made by the Monks of Ew, not the miracle of Jack Daniels of which Saint Dean had seen fit to create and is only given to those who reach the age He set for us."

"How was Jack Daniels created, Sister?"

"Saint Dean went into the Drunken Idiot state, said 'Blurgle,' collapsed at the feet of the famed knight Castiel, the first to taste the wondrous beverage and who followed soon after, and the next morning, in the Kill Me stage, which Saint Dean had dubbed the 'Hangover', Jack Daniels was there, waiting for us."

Another hand was raised. "Have you ever had Jack Daniels, Sister Anna?"

She nodded demurely. "I have."

"What was the Hangover like? Tell us!"

She gave them all a beaming smile. "I wanted to die."

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