Balthazar managed to chance a look out of the window, from his foetal position on the floor.

"Daemons?" He yelped, recognising the horrific black ships that were quickly blocking out most of the sky. "What are they doing here?"

"Are you kidding?" Rufus stared at him. "The two of you have been running around drawing attention to yourselves. The Daemons put out a warrant for you both; they want you captured."

"Zarking photons…" Gabriel dragged himself up to peek over the edge of a window. "The ground's going away! Where are they taking the ground?"

"They're not, you moron. They're taking us."

"Where?"

"I would imagine…" Rufus sat back under his desk, glaring from one hopeless face to another, "Hellsphere. Their home planet."

"That… that can't be good." Gabriel muttered, crawling back under his desk. "When I meet this Zarniwoop guy, I'm going to kill him."

"If they don't kill you first." Balthazar grumbled, staring out of the window. "We're leaving atmosphere. Gabriel, the entire building has been kidnapped."

"And believe me, I'm flattered."

Rufus wondered exactly what he'd gotten himself stuck with.

(-*-)

On board the Daemon ship, Prostetnic Daemon Crowley sighed irritably and shot his second in command.

He really should have known better than to take on two contradictory contracts at the same time. It caused so many problems. The mice still wanted that Dean Winchester human, and as for the people who wanted the entire crew of the Impala dead…

His was not to reason why, he supposed. His was to complete his end of the deal, get filthy, stinking rich and then kill as many people as he could in the mean time.

He looked at the profiles for the people he was sure he'd already killed.

Gabriel Angeles, infamous just for being himself. Balthazar Angel, Castiel Angel, Dean Winchester and Sam the AI consciousness. Nobodies. People of note only within certain locales. But, apparently, people who would create something of a fuss if not seen to straight away.

Crowley heaved another sigh, and shot another officer. He was really getting fed up of these trifling, bureaucratic affairs.

(-*-)

The Wave Harmonic school of thought was once given the task of expressing, simply and adequately, their theory on the infinite and constant passage of time. They came up with a simple set of theories.

First, they stated that history was an illusion, caused by the passage of time.

Then, they stated that time was an illusion caused by the passage of history.

Then, their funding was revoked on the grounds that no one likes a smartass, and so they came up with their third theory:

One's perception of these illusions is conditioned by three factors; who you are, where you are, and how long it's been since Gabriel Angeles made you a drink.

The last time Dean Winchester had drunk anything that wasn't fermented berries served in a dried out rabbit-bladder, he had been at the Celestiway's restaurant. Since then, he had been catapulted back and forward in time, blown up, crashed inside another ship, had that ship crash into the remains of prehistoric Earth, burdened with the knowledge that everything he knew about his planet's history was wrong (and he was not in fact descended from apes, but from Golgafrincham internet trolls), and forced to live as a castaway survivor with his companion, Castiel Angel.

Needless to say, he could really have appreciated a bottle of Corona.

Gabriel, however, would have preferred a cake or two.

(-*-)

"So Rufus… they're taking us to Hellsphere."

"Yes. The most evil planet in the universe."

"Great." Gabriel glanced around, eyes narrowed. "There wouldn't happen to be any food there, would there?"

"Food? You want to talk about eating?" Rufus stared at him, eyes wide and incredulous. "Do you have any idea what they're going to do to you?"

"Give us a five course meal?" Balthazar suggested, ever hopeful.

"They're going to give you something alright." Rufus glared at them. "They're going to give you a world of pain and suffering. Torture, never ending emotional and physical torment…"

"Not even a coffee house or a…"

"No, Angeles. Not even a take-out place."

"Ouch..."

"We've got to get you to Zarniwoop's office." Now the building had steadied it's path, Rufus stumbled to his feet. "It's your only safe way out of here. You can hop into that parallel universe of his and escape the Daemons."

"What about you?" Balthazar dragged Gabriel to his feet.

"I'll be fine. You think I haven't faced of Daemons before?" Rufus laughed bitterly, jerking his head towards the door. "Come on."

(-*-)

Meanwhile, and several billion years previous in permanent history, Dean Winchester and Castiel Angel were still sat on the beachy shore of prehistoric San Francisco, alternating between staring longingly at the spaceship which had somehow travelled back in time to rescue them but gotten stuck in an "alternate futures" temporal anomaly, and staring longingly at each other.

"I really wish your suit wasn't all ripped up." Castiel said, eyeing the muddied, tattered remnants of Dean's clothes.

"I do to… this cost me a hundred bucks, easy, and it can't stand a year or two in pre-historic wilds…"

"No, I mean, if it covered more of you, I would probably find it easier to focus… Oh god…" Castiel sighed, burying his face in his hands. "Focus focus focus."

K-chink, came a noise from somewhere beside him.

"We need a plan, we need to get off this rock… I need a fix."

K-chink.

"No, no I don't need to get drunk or stoned, I need to plan, I need to focus…"

K-chi.

"And will you stop making that noise?"

Cas glared at Dean, who smiled guiltily, his cigarette lighter shining suspiciously between his idle thumbs.

"Sorry."

"What is that?"

"It's my lighter. Balthazar found it for me the day the Earth exploded. Or… he will find it, the day it explodes. Or something."

He thought for a moment, before looking at his wrecked-beyond-repair shirt.

"Hey, if we need to signal that ship, maybe I could set my shirt on fire and wave it…"

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You're lucky you're cute, because if I was in this for the witty discussions of multi-temporal causality I'd be severely disappointed."

"So… you don't think it'd work?"

"No. That ship isn't actually there. It's only the possibility of a ship; it's a hypothetical example of one. We would need to find some method of signalling through the parallel flux of the space time continuum to create an electromagnetic pulse that would act as a fuck it you may as well try waving your damn shirt at it."

Dean grinned and pulled the remains of his shirt off, setting light to it and waving it in the air. The crackling, burning material cut swathes through the evening air, arcing above Dean's head.

"Hey!" he yelled, staring as the ship wavered. "Hey! Down here!"

"It's doing it!" Castiel gasped, stumbling to his feet as the ship slowly began its wobbling descent into the atmosphere. "It's coming down…"

"We're saved!"

"We're saved!" They laughed, rushing to each other's arms as Dean's shirt flew away in the wind, landing in the sea.

"Woah…" Cas muttered, staring out at the ship once more. "Woah, it's coming down way too fast… Pull up, you moron! Retro-thrust!"

"Cas, I think he's going to crash…"

"I think you're right…"

"I think he might crash into us…"

"I think we should get out of the way…"

But too late. The ship, all fifty tonnes of gleaming, asteroid-pitted metal bore screaming down on the fault line-ridden landscape of prehistoric San Francisco, causing the Earth to scream back at it. The ground shook and moved underneath Cas and Dean as they scrambled to avoid the ship. Mountains moved, rocks fell, the sky seemed to be torn in two…

"Phew…" Cas exhaled, as they stumbled into the dank, rocky cave.

"Good thing we didn't panic." Dean agreed. He took a few deep breaths. "So… flagging down a logically impossible space shop, being caught in an earthquake and an avalanche at the same time…"

"Yup. And I'm pretty sure there was a volcano in there too. Pretty busy day, huh?"

"Yeah… so, Cas?"

"Yes?"

"This boulder that's blocking up the cave entrance. You think we can move it out of the way?"

"Since it's possibly the size of a small house, I'm going to say no."

"Ah. And Cas?"

"Yes?"

"This cave we're stuck in… do you think there's another way out of it?"

"Pass me your lighter?"

"Here."

"Right… no. No, there's three feet of space behind me and then it's solid rock."

"Right… so we're stuck here."

"Yes."

"Well… I grabbed my bag at least."

"What's in there?"

"Stuff to make a fire with… some food and drink… and the copy of the book Balthazar gave me."

"The book?"

Castiel set about creating a large fire, so they could at least see.

"Yeah. The Bloody Invaluable Book: Lightyears of entertainment."

"Oh. That. Does it say anything about being stuck in a crack in the ground, beneath a giant boulder, with a volcano spewing lava outside and no hope of rescue?"

"I don't know…" Dean scanned the index, and put in a few search terms. The book beeped at him.

"What to do if you find yourself stuck in a crack in the ground, beneath a giant boulder, with a volcano spewing lava outside and no hope of rescue." The book said, it's pre-recorded voice bouncing off of the walls of solid stone and earth that surrounded them. "Consider how lucky you've been so far, and make the most of your last few breaths. If you have someone in there with you, now might be a good time to tell them or try out on them that thing that you've been putting off. Above all, remember that you are loved."

"Helpful." Cas supplied, warming himself by the now roaring fire. He stared up at Dean. "You can put your shirt back on now."

"No, it blew away. Fell into the sea, and then I'm pretty sure some lava rolled over it."

"Hmm… Well, the archaeologists will know you had nice taste in shirts at least."

"Yeah… So… you want to fool around, or..?"

"Jesus, shit…" Cas leapt up, as if scolded. Dean backed off.

"Ok, sorry, I thought it was…"

"No, not you… the rock I was leaning against…" Cas pressed his hands against the stone wall, staring at Dean like he was losing what slim hold on sanity he had left. "It's vibrating. The whole wall his vibrating."

"Vibrating? Who would make a vibrating rock?"

"A stoneage woman with an absent boyfriend? How should I know? Look, it's… it's cracking open."

Sure enough, the stone wall was vibrating, humming, and beginning to crack open. Cas retreated to Dean's side, and Dean found himself holding on to the smaller, equally terrified man. As if from the inside of the rock, light began to pool where the rock cracked and pulled itself open. Dean began to wonder if Cas hadn't slipped him something. The rock (which Dean was starting to suspect was not actually a rock) pulled itself open, a ramp descending from the blinding white light that pooled inside. Dean found himself shielding his eyes against such a sudden exposure to such bright, artificial light. A figure appeared at the top of the ramp, causing Castiel to almost collapse with shock in Dean's arms.

"You…" Castiel gasped, when he finally managed to get words out. "How… how are you…What are you doing in a rock?"

"You would not believe me if I told you." Gabriel beamed, leaning against the edge of the Impala's entry bay. "So come on, are you going to get in here and be rescued or do I have to stand around here staring at Dean's nipples all day? For god's sake, man, you get a little stranded on one prehistoric planet and you lose what fashion sense you had."

Gabriel stepped aside, ushering them into the preserved hull of the Impala, still beaming manically.

"Guys, do I have a story for you."