Chuck's robes billowed as the lack of gravity picked at them, and he turned doleful eyes on the group of weary travellers.
"To explain why I brought you all here, I kind of have to tell you all a story. This is the story of a book. Or, to be more accurate, 'The Book'.
"It is perhaps the most remarkable, certainly the most successful book ever to come from the Megadodo Publishing Company of Ursa-Minor Beta. It's more popular than "How Clean is your Hypercube", more informative than "Where Are They Now: God", and more popularly referenced than "100 more things to do in a wormhole". In fact, in many of the more theocratic societies across the southern belt of the universe, it actually surpasses the "Encyclopaedia Galactica" as the standard repository of knowledge, even though the disclaimer on the back clearly states that almost all advice contained within The Book is at best inaccurate and at worst allegorical.
"Reasons for its popularity are… there are many, but it mainly stems, first from the fact that it's substantially more published and therefore cheaper, and second, it has the words "You are Loved" written in arcing, authoritative script on the front cover. And let's face it, it's hard to argue with something in that sort of script.
"This book, 'The Book', is the most well used, most well reputed book in the history of published words, with a version or translation of one edition or another on even the most primitive, under-evolved of planets in every galaxy.
"This book is, as you've probably guessed, "The Bloody Invaluable Book: Lightyears of Entertainment". And, to tell the story of the book, I must tell the story of the man who created it. He is said to have outlived any use of a given name, and now only goes by the name of Zarniwoop. The same Zarniwoop who planted a post-hypnotic suggestion into the mind of ex-Prime Minister of the Universe, Gabriel Angeles. The same Zarniwoop who, in order to finally discover the meaning of life, the universe and everything, sent Rufus to make sure that Gabriel and Balthazar both remained within his personal parallel universe. The same Zarniwoop you will hopefully, soon meet."
"But, whoa, whoa whoa." Gabriel shook his head. "Back up. What the hell?"
"You went to Zarniwoop's office in the Bloody Invaluable Book's headquarters, yes?"
"Yeah, before the Daemons air-lifted it." Gabriel said, getting the feeling he was either too drunk or not drunk enough to deal with this conversation. "So what?"
"When he left you," said Chuck, with the sort of patience that was not so much thin as it was naturally withered and decayed after centuries of carefully maintained mummification, "Rufus told you not to use the door, didn't he? I'll guess he told you to go through the window instead."
"Yes." Balthazar was starting to regret ever having asked anything. "But what does that… oh." Realisation dawned in his eyes like the morning after a very long party; sudden, wondrous and not at all welcome. "Wait…. No! They wouldn't… but they bloody did… are we..?"
Chuck nodded.
Dean did not like that Balthazar wasn't finishing sentences, because he had learned that it usually meant he had less time to brace for impact.
"What? What does it mean?"
"We went into his parallel universe… and never left," Balthazar grinned. "Genius. So, wait, what about those two? Are they..?"
"That was the incongruity." Castiel said, eyes wide with realisation. "The Temporal Anomaly. The universes joined, merged… we crossed from the one in which we were trapped, to the one where we could escape."
Chuck nodded.
"In this universe, you can finally find the reason for it all. Why the Earth was destroyed before the program could run. Why the Daemons came after you to finish the job. Why Zarniwoop sent Gabriel to his office and why Gabriel was Prime Minister in the first place."
"I had been wondering about that," Cas nodded.
"So, can you tell us?" Dean was really getting tired of space people talking in riddles. He wondered if, on that fateful Thursday when Lisa had left him and he'd gotten fired, and he tripped over outside his apartment and cracked his head on the floor, he hadn't just fractured his skull and was now dreaming all this weird shit as he bled out onto the sidewalk. Cas gripped his hand, and Dean supposed there were worse things to have dying fever dreams about.
"No. I can't even go through with you. But I can tell you that, once you're through, the world will be a very different place. And… and you might not like it, or the answers you find. But you have to do it."
"Why?" Gabriel rolled his eyes, sagging under the burden of responsibility. "Why can't we just get back in the Impala and leave your sorry ass here?"
"Because otherwise we'll never know." Sam spoke, for the first time. "We're the only ones who could stand to find out. And the Daemons won't leave us alone until we do."
Chuck nodded, grimly.
"So follow me, and you'll see what I mean."
Knowing that they were stuck between certain death and complete unknown, the group of weary travellers slowly followed Chuck up, over the ridges of sand dunes that covered the small moon, and towards what looked very much like a door.
"Why is there a door?" Dean asked, feeling very out of his depth.
"To gain entrance to another dimension," Chuck smiled his nervous, squirrelly smile which made Dean want to punch him, "you must have an entry point."
The door (cedar wood, painted white with a tarnished gold-plated handle) was not connected to anything except the floor and the surrounding frame. It swung open at Chuck's touch, and the group hesitantly edged into it. Chuck stood back and waved as they disappeared into the whirling, off-white portal.
When the door closed itself again, Chuck turned on his heel and made his way back to the Impala. He supposed he should look after it until they came back. And what would be wrong with looking after it on the glorious, desert island planet of Azarian, which had recently received the title of "best vacation destination this side of the dimension" by the Bloody Invaluable Book?
The Impala quietly left the small desert moon.
(-*-)
The Book has this to say on the subject of flying.
"Flying," it says, "is very much like falling, and the difference between them lies entirely on the outcome."
"There is something of an art, or rather, a knack to flying. The trick lies in being able to throw yourself at the ground and miss."
It goes on to explain the theory of conveniently forgetting gravity at a point during the "throwing yourself at the ground" bit, by way of a sudden distraction which takes up more thought, but noting the exact details of the passage would not have helped Dean Winchester, or any of his companions, who suddenly found themselves plummeting through a featureless white void, with wind rushing past their ears and wisps of cloud tearing through their fingers.
The Book's passage on flying is currently under edition, as several users have left comments pointing out the difficulties of following a step by step guide when trying to throw yourself at the ground and miss.