AUTHOR'S NOTES: Oh. My. God! You have NO idea how near impossible this chapter was!
First, I consulted my two biggest fans of this series: Dark-Supernatural-Angel and deanstheman for advice on this chapter. And I got opposite viewpoints, but one worked better than the other, so that's the line I went with.
Then there was the fact that I'm writing the characters out of character which for this episode was actually in character!
Ugh!
Hopefully, I pulled it off and please send me a review, even if only to harass me about updating
Chapter 5
It's A Terrible Life
When Dean Smith woke to the sound of his alarm clock at 6am, he rolled over, surprised to find his wife missing from their bed. Figuring she was just out for one of her early morning runs, Dean turned off the alarm clock and got up, grabbing his favorite blue/gray suit and the blue striped shirt and red tie Fiona had given him for their anniversary a few months ago.
Heading downstairs, he found that his wife had already brewed a fresh pot of coffee and tacked a sign on the espresso maker saying 'Dean, have a damn cup of coffee! I promise it won't kill you!'
Dean frowned as he took the note down and headed for the fridge so as to make his usual steamed chai rice milk, only to find a second note from Fiona and no milk.
Thinking dismally that this was not the way to start a good day, Dean turned the coffee maker off and sighed as he grabbed his briefcase and headed out of the apartment and to his car parked along the street.
Getting in, he started the engine, frowning at the classic rock music blasting from the speakers. It was bad enough listening to that noise when he was driving with Fiona in her car, but did she have to play that racket in his beloved Prius?
Across town, Fiona Smith moaned with delight as she woke up next to her lover, Sam Wesson.
"Don't you have to be at work in an hour?" Sam said as he smiled at her, and ran his fingers through her hair.
"Yep," Fiona confirmed as she got up, smiling as she saw Sam's eyes traveling all over her naked body. Pulling on her panties and bra, she bend down for one last kiss and said, "Just another long day protecting the fine, fine employees of Sandover Bridge and Iron."
Watching Fiona getting dressed, Sam sighed as he, too, got up and got dressed, the same thoughts weighing on his mind as when he'd first seen Fiona at the office. That this relationship—even though Fiona was married—felt right. And yet… "So where does your husband think you are?"
"You know," Fiona said as she finished straightening her uniform. "It doesn't matter. I don't know why I married Dean in the first place." Turning to Sam she touched his cheek tenderly. "He and I just don't fit the way you and me do." With a final peck on the cheek, she smiled as she said, "See you at the office."
After getting to the office, Dean dove right in to his work. Sure, he imagined he'd be doing something else by now, but he was good at his job and things were predictable here.
He spent most of the morning drafting a few new memos and adjusting the latest business plans for the information one of the interns had brought by earlier, finally breaking for lunch from his favorite café. The place made the best spinach salads and Dean wished that Fiona would get off his back about his diet. What was wrong with being vegetarian anyway? Most wives tried to encourage their husbands to eat healthy.
Besides, it wasn't like the two of them were burning the calories off in the bedroom every night lately.
x
After lunch, Dean set up his Bluetooth headset and started taking his afternoon meetings as he finished the paperwork he'd left the previous night.
The hours ticked by slowly and as Dean finished up his work, he wondered if Fiona would be home for dinner. Lately she'd been going out with friends, coming home late at night.
Not that Dean was worried about her having an affair. She worked in company security. Not exactly the best way to nab someone on the side.
"Dean," Zach Adler said as he entered Dean's office.
Ending the conference call he was on, Dean gave his boss a smile. "Mr. Adler."
"How're things going?" Zach asked, brightly.
"Going good," Dean assured him. "And I'll have those files and reports ready for you on Wednesday."
"Good work," Zach said, surprised. "You're destined for big things, Dean."
"Thank you, sir," Dean replied with a nod.
"Big things," Zach assured Dean as he headed for the door. "Good stuff."
"Good stuff," Dean said, his smile fading slightly at his boss left. God, why did he have to work for such a dick? Frowning slightly, he wondered where that had come from. He'd never called someone a dick before.
xxxxxxx
When 5:30 finally rolled around, Dean packed up his things and started to head out, sending a few last emails on his phone as he stepped into the elevator. But after a moment, he felt someone watching him and turned to look at the other man in the elevator.
"Do I know you?" Sam Wesson asked, wondering why the man in the elevator with him looked so familiar.
"I don't think so," Dean replied, turning back towards his phone. But there was something nagging in the back of his mind that he did know this man. Oh, Dean needed a vacation. Maybe he and Fiona could go back to that charming resort up in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.
When the elevator opened, Dean got out, heading for his car when he heard someone call his name. Looking up, he saw Fiona coming towards him. "Hey," he said with a smile as they headed for the parking lots.
"Hey, yourself," Fiona replied, cheerfully. "So I told Millie in tech support we'd join her and her husband, Eric, for dinner at this new place tonight."
"I was hoping to get a workout in tonight," Dean said, not really eager to spend an evening with Eric Kripke and his 1,001 movie references. Although, Millie was hot and she did like to talk business.
"Lighten up, hubby," Fiona insisted as she and Dean came to her 2008 Chevy Impala. As she opened the door, Fiona gave Dean a quick kiss and got in, rolling down the window as she turned on the engine, her favorite classic rock music blaring from the radio. As she left the lot, she wondered when Dean would get the stick out of his ass.
When Sam got back to his apartment that night, he felt his mind spinning as thoughts and memories hit him like a freakin' tidal wave. He knew he'd seen that guy in the elevator before at work but in these visions or whatever, the two of them battled monsters and ghosts.
But that was insane! Ghosts weren't real, were they?
Sam went to his fridge and pulled out a beer, an image popping into his head of sitting on a cooler next to a classic car while Elevator Guy worked on the engine. But that didn't make any sense. Elevator Guy didn't look like he'd ever get his hands dirty working on a car. Sam knew what car guys looked like. Hell, working on cars was Sam's number one hobby. Except that didn't feel right.
Grabbing a beer and the leftover pizza in the fridge, Sam settled down on the couch and ate, letting himself drift in the sea of memories that may or may not be real.
Getting to work early the next morning, Fiona headed for the break room for a quick cup of coffee and stopped dead when she saw one of the tech support guys lying dead next to the counter. There was a seriously disgusting smell in the air and slowly, Fiona went closer, feeling like she was about to gag when she saw that the guy had apparently tried to microwave his own head.
Backing away, she pulled out her cell phone and called 911. When she hung up, she pulled up her phone directory and punched in Dean's number. "Dean?" she said, ashamed to hear the word come out as a sob. "I need you to get to the office. Like, now."
xxx
Hearing Fiona sounding like she was 5 seconds from either breaking down in tears or screaming in panic, Dean rushed out of the house and to his car, surprising himself as he broke probably every single speed limit between home and the office.
Parking in his usual spot, Dean hurried into the Sandover building, stopping when he saw the police swarming the ground floor and the EMTs carrying out a body on a stretcher.
"Excuse me, sir," one of the police officers said as he saw Dean trying to head towards the break room. "You can't go in there. It's a crime scene."
"I'm looking for my wife," Dean explained, looking around for Fiona. "She was in early."
"Dean!"
Dean turned and nearly dropped his briefcase when Fiona suddenly dashed up to him, throwing her arms around his neck. Putting a comforting arm around her, he said, "It's okay, Fi. It's over." Suddenly, Dean had an image of he and Fiona as kids and he was comforting her after a bad dream. Looking up, he caught sight of the tech guy from the elevator the previous day. The two exchanged looks and Dean felt a sudden flash of unexplained familiarity.
After leading Fiona up to his office and giving her a bottle of water, Dean sat on a corner of his desk, watching her as she took a few sips. "You okay?" Dean asked, cautiously.
"Yeah," Fiona said, frowning a bit. "Does this… Does this seem not right to you?"
Dean frowned as well, but as he thought about it he realized that Fiona had a point. "Yeah, this whole thing," he muttered, standing up and going behind his desk, bringing up the employee database. "What was the guy's name?"
"Dunbar," Fiona replied, as she went to look over Dean's shoulder. "Paul Dunbar." After a second, she said, "Does this feel… familiar to you?"
Dean hesitated, but didn't reply. But for some reason, it did feel as though they'd done this before. Bringing up Paul's profile, Dean leaned back in his chair. "He was due to retire in two weeks."
"What?" Fiona said, leaning closer, her nose crinkling as she thought she smelled something strange. She shrugged it off at first, figuring Dean had just been using a new cologne. But since when did he use cologne that smelled like leather and gunpowder? Straightening up, Fiona sighed and said, "I've got to get back to work. I'll see you later, Dean."
"Watch yourself, Fi," Dean said, looking up at her as she headed for the door.
Fiona paused, and then looked at Dean. "You've never called me 'Fi' before today."
"You don't want me to call you that?" Dean asked, a bit puzzled.
"No, it's fine," Fiona insisted as she left.
Dean waited until his wife had left before returning to work. But while he wanted to just get back to work and ignore all of this weirdness, something inside him was letting him to investigate this. "Investigate what?" Dean muttered to himself as he stared at the paperwork on his desk.
Something about all this was totally freaky and at the same time… not.
xxxxx
As Sam sat at his desk, something about this whole situation didn't seem right. No one in their right mind would off themselves mere weeks before they retired.
And then there was Ian who had suddenly had the fear of God put in him by someone in Human Resources the day before he stabbed himself in the neck with a pencil.
Hearing his phone ring, Sam picked up and answered, "Tech support—this is Sam."
"I need to see you in my office," said the voice on the other end. "Now. Name's Dean Smith."
Dean…
'We're not kids anymore, Dean!'
'Dean, what do you think you're doing?'
'You're not going to Hell, Dean.'
Sam shook off the… the whatever it was and grabbed his satchel, heading up stairs and to Dean's office where the sales and marketing director was changing shirts. "Come on in and close the door," Dean said, quickly. When Sam had done so, Dean leaned on the back of the chair, feeling like his world had suddenly been thrown into complete chaos. "Who the hell are you?" he asked.
"Not sure I know," Sam replied, glad to see that he wasn't the only one feeling like he was losing his mind.
"What the hell does that mean?" Dean asked. He'd been hoping for a simple answer to this whole thing.
"Sam Wesson," the other man replied. "I started here three weeks ago."
"Okay," Dean said, slowly, trying to run everything through his head. "You cornered me in the elevator the other day, talking about ghosts. And now…"
"Now what?" Sam asked, studying Dean closely.
But Dean seemed anxious and he tried to change the subject. "So you started here three weeks ago, huh? Me, too."
After a moment, Sam could tell that Dean was rattled and finally asked, "When you were in that bathroom with Ian, did you see something?"
"I don't know," Dean said, nervously. "I don't know what I saw." Maybe this was just all part of him having some sort of breakdown.
"Wait," Sam said, realizing that he was right. "Are you saying that you…? Did you see a ghost?"
"I was freaking out," Dean explained. "The guy penciled his damn neck!"
"You did, didn't you?" Sam pressed, eagerly. Seeing an opportunity to go with the theory that had been bugging him lately, he said, "Okay, what if these suicides aren't suicides? What if they're something not natural?"
"So, what? Ghosts are real and they're responsible for all the dead bodies around here?" Dean asked, skeptically as he sat down, watching Sam do the same. "Is that what you're telling me?"
"I know it sounds crazy," Sam said, eagerly. "But, yes. That's what I'm telling you."
"Based on what?" Dean asked, curiously.
"Instinct?" Sam replied with a shrug.
Dean couldn't believe it. Something in his gut had been screaming about ghosts and monsters from the start and now he found someone who had the same feelings. "I've got the same instinct," he admitted. It felt good to get that off his chest. Taking a moment, Dean finally said, "Okay, so what's connecting these deaths? Other than the fact that they're weird, freaky, and likely caused by a friggin' ghost?"
"Well, I've been digging around a little," Sam said, pulling out two emails and handing them to Dean. "I think I found a connection between the two guys."
"You broke into their email accounts?" Dean asked, a bit impressed. This guy had mad skills—what was he doing in a dead-end cubicle job?
"I used some skills that I happen to have to satisfy my own curiosity," Sam replied, evasively, hoping he wasn't about to be busted for illegal activity. But Dean actually seemed to approve and encouraged by that, Sam went on with what he'd found. "Okay, so it turns out that Ian and Paul both got this same email telling them to report to HR, room 1444."
"HR's on 7," Dean corrected.
"Exactly," Sam said, with a knowing look.
Dean thought about the situation for a moment and finally asked, "Should we check this out?"
Sam seemed surprised at the question. For some reason he felt like it should have been him asking. "Like… right now?"
"No, it's getting late," Dean said, quickly as common sense took over. "You're right."
But when Sam met Dean's eyes, he said, "I am dying to check this out right now."
It was like something inside Dean finally busted loose as he jumped right on the plan. "Right?" He jumped up quickly but catching a glance at the photo of Fiona on the desk, he looked at Sam. "Give me a second, will you?"
Sam nodded and headed out of the office, going to wait by the elevator for Dean who joined him a minute later. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Dean said quickly as he and Sam got into the elevator and headed up to the 14th floor. "Just letting the little lady know I'll be home late."
"You're married?" Sam asked, surprised.
"Three years," Dean replied, casually. "Yeah, but we've known each other practically our whole lives, you know? Childhood sweethearts," he added with a sad smile.
Before Sam could ask anything else, though, the elevator doors opened and they headed down the hallway, pausing for a second when they heard crashing and screaming. Running for a door down the hall, Sam and Dean tried the knob but the door was locked. Without another thought, Sam raised one foot and kicked the door down.
"Whoa," Dean said, shocked by Sam's feat of strength.
Sam just shrugged as he saw one of the other tech guys pinned beneath a metal bookcase. Hurrying over, Dean hot on his heels, Sam was suddenly thrown against another group of shelves and landed on the ground. Looking up, Sam saw the ghost of an old man start reaching out a hand to the tech pinned beneath the shelves. But before he could do anything, Dean had grabbed a wrench and swung it at the ghost, dispelling the spirit.
After the other tech guy was free, Sam looked incredulously at Dean. "How'd you know how to do that?"
"I have no idea," Dean said, surprised at his own strength. But it was it was what his instincts told him to do…
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
15 minutes later, Dean opened the door to his apartment and let Sam in.
"There you are, Dean," Fiona said, coming into the living room from the kitchen. She stopped dead when she saw Sam who was unable to cover up his awkwardness at being in the same room with his lover and her husband.
"You will not believe what just happened to us, Fi," Dean said as he made a beeline for the fridge and grabbed a bottle of the organic green tea cleanse he'd been on the past few weeks. "Holy crap, dude," Dean said as he passed Sam who was leaning against the back of the black leather sofa.
"Yeah," Sam said, his mind reeling from his paranormal encounter. "I could use a—" He broke off when Fiona suddenly appeared at his elbow, holding out a bottle. "—beer," he finished, looking a bit puzzled. "How did you know what…?"
Fiona was about to take a sip of her beer when she paused, a sudden feeling of déjà vu. Frowning, she muttered, "Habit." Taking a long swig of her beer, she asked, "So what have you two been up to?"
"Believe it or not, we were after a ghost," Dean replied as he anxiously paced the living room.
"Hey, by the way," Sam said, something occurring to him as he looked at Dean. "How the hell'd you know ghosts are scared of wrenches?"
"I know," Dean said with a laugh. "Crazy, right?"
"It's not wrenches, it's iron," Fiona piped up, although she wasn't quite sure how she knew that. After downing the rest of her beer, she said, "Okay, so a ghost. Ghost of what?"
"Sure wasn't the Ghost of Christmas Past, I know that much," Dean muttered, trying not to look at the second beer Fiona was pulling out of the mini-fridge in the liquor cabinet.
"Well, let's start with research," Sam suggested. "History of the building, maybe?"
"Okay, good," Dean said, starting to feel like there was a plan. He liked it when there was a plan. And at the same time, he just wanted to go back to the office and kick that ghost's ass. "I'll start on that."
"I'll take a look online and see if there's any way to kill a ghost," Fiona volunteered as she went to the kitchen and grabbed the menu from her favorite take-out place. "Sam, what do you want? I'm ordering take-out."
Sam frowned, not sure. "Just, uh… whatever, I guess. I'm not picky."
Fiona nodded and went to make the call while Sam set up his own laptop while Dean went to his computer and started doing research. Looking over at Sam who had a 'puzzled/lost-in-thought' look, he asked, "You okay?"
"It's just…" Sam wasn't sure how to explain it. "It's like… when I kicked in that door. I-I just felt like I'd done it before." Looking from Dean to Fiona, he added, "Like we've done this before."
"You mean like… Shirley McLaine before?" Dean asked, even though part of him felt the same way. And the way Fiona seemed to be taking charge a little.
"I-I just can't shake this feeling like I don't belong here, you know? Like…" Looking over at Fiona, he lowered his voice and said, "Like things are all messed up. Like the… the pieces don't fit the puzzle, you know?"
Dean understood exactly what Sam was saying. It was like lately, he thought of Fiona as a sister and a best friend, rather than a wife.
xxx
When Fiona returned from picking up dinner, she found Sam and Dean working on a plan. "What do we got, boys?"
Sam shrugged as Fiona handed him his dinner. "Well, it looks like our ghost is P.T. Sandover, himself. Turns out the room Ian and Paul were sent to before they dies used to be the old man's office."
"Great," Fiona muttered, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge before handing Dean his salad. "So how do we kill a ghost?"
"I might have a lead on that," Dean replied with a smile. "Found this site run by actual ghost hunters. Best weapons are salt and iron and the only way to destroy the ghost is to burn the remains. Now, Sandover was cremated, but we're hoping there's still remains or something with the guy's DNA."
"Okay, then," Fiona said, putting her seafood salad in the fridge. "Eat quick. I'm going to go change back into my uniform."
Exchanging confused looks before turning to Fiona, Sam and Dean asked in unison, "Why?"
"Uh, let's see…" Fiona said in a mock-thoughtful tone. "You're going back to the office after hours to rummage around where you don't belong to find remains of the dead founder of the company so you can burn them and destroy Sandover's ghost. You're right. Why would you possibly need someone in security to cover your asses?"
"She makes a good point," Dean said to Sam as Fiona went back to the bedroom.
"Yeah, I guess," Sam said, under his breath.
Back at the office, Sam and Fiona went back up to the 14th floor while Dean went up to the 22nd. Knowing that Sandover was the ghost, Dean figured that maybe the company dedication wall on his office floor might yield a clue as to what might be tying Sandover to the building.
As soon as Dean saw the wall, he spotted what he, Sam, and Fiona were looking for. Using the walkie-talkie feature on his phone, Dean called Fiona and when she picked up, he said, "Hey, I think I got it. Meet me on 22."
"Okay, we're headed up," Fiona assured him.
While he was waiting for the others, Dean couldn't help wondering at how crazy this whole this was. He didn't hunt ghosts! He was a businessman! He had a wife, parents, a sister… So why was there this feeling of doubt in his stomach?
When Sam and Fiona got there, they both looked at Dean before all three grabbed one of the iron fireplace pokers from the bag Dean had dropped by his feet.
Pointing at the gloves in the glass case, Dean said, "Think maybe there's a little smidge of DNA in there, huh?"
"Let's give it a whirl," Sam said, raising his poker and breaking the glass.
Immediately, the air turned cold and all three tightened their grips on their weapons, but before they could prepare for anything, Sandover appeared, throwing Dean against one wall before flinging Sam against another wall.
Fiona dove out of the way, swinging her poker at the ghost's legs, dispelling it for a moment. She and Dean scrambled to their feet when Sandover went for Sam, but Sam quickly flung salt at the spirit, dispelling it again. Getting to his feet, Sam shouted a warning before tossing one of the pokers to Dean who took a swing at the ghosts.
"Nice catch," Sam said, impressed, as he got to his feet.
"Right?" Dean said, feeling a thrill of exhilaration.
"Pat yourselves on the back later," Fiona snapped, going for the gloves but getting thrown back against the wall.
But Sam and Dean wasted no time in taking swings at Sandover to keep his occupied while Fiona scrambled on her hands and knees over to the gloves, grabbing her lighter out of her pocket.
When Sandover's ghost burned up, Sam and Dean looked at one another before looking at Fiona who was slowly getting to her feet again. "Okay…" Fiona said, slowly as she flung the burning gloves to the ground. "That… was awesome!"
"I know, right?" Dean said, grinning. Looking at Sam, he said, "Right?"
All Sam could do was nod his agreement.
x
Back in Dean's office, Fiona pulled out the small first aid kit he kept in his desk and opening it, nabbed a gauze bad, pressing it to the cut on Dean's forehead. "Hold that there before you bleed to death."
Clearing his throat, Sam waited until Dean and Fiona looked at him. "Um… I have a confession to make."
"What?" Dean asked, looking from Sam to Fiona. Catching his wife's look, Dean groaned. "Oh, God, you are having an affair, aren't you?" he said, giving Fiona a look. Pointing to Sam, Dean asked, "With him?"
"Look, I'm sure you're upset—" Fiona began, expecting a lot of yelling from Dean.
But Dean didn't yell at all. "I'm not upset," he assured Fiona as he sat on the edge of his desk. "I mean, I know I should be upset, but… But I'm not. Fiona, you and I have been best friends since we were kids. I-I've always just wanted you to be happy."
"So… You're okay with me sleeping with your wife," Sam said, slowly. Standing up and pacing for a minute, he finally stopped and looked at the others and said, "Look, I'm just going to say it. What we did back there… it felt right. Like it's what we're supposed to be doing. I know that deep down, you guys have to be feeling the same way."
"Look, I know who I am, alright?" Dean argued, not wanting to face the reality that Sam was right. "I'm Dean Smith, Director of Sales and Marketing. I went to Stanford. My father's name is Bob, my mother's name is Ellen, and my sister's name is Jo."
"Stop it!" Fiona snapped, suddenly. Turning to Dean, she just said, "I'm going home. I'll see you later."
Once Fiona was gone, Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Looking at Sam, he said, "Look… whatever you think we should be doing… It doesn't matter, okay? And I-I'd be lying if I said you were wrong. But what can we do about it, huh? Just uproot our lives and travel the country, fighting monsters? What about money? Huh? Or a place to live? I seriously doubt monster fighting had health insurance."
"Yeah, I guess," Sam muttered, dejectedly. As he headed for the door, he stopped and turned back to Dean. "What about Fiona?"
Dean had almost forgotten about that particular revelation and he sighed, not sure what he wanted to do. "We'll talk about it later."
Sam just nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.
When Dean got home some hours later, Fiona was already in bed.
He sat on the couch, staring out at the city. He had his memories, the ones of Jo and his parents, but they didn't truly seem real. Not like the memories he had of Fiona when they were kids. Those alone felt genuine.
What was he really meant to do? Sam had been right, more than he knew. Dean had known it from the second he'd swung that wrench. He'd had feelings and instincts, but the second his fingers had touched the metal, it was like a switch was flipped on and long dormant skills and strengths came back to life.
For the first time in six months, Dean went to the liquor cabinet and opened the mini-fridge. After a long pause, he withdrew a beer and popped the top, downing almost half the bottle in one go.
After the action of the previous night, Sam felt even more confined than ever as he sat in his cubicle, staring at the incessantly ringing phones. He remembered how he felt as he fought Sandover's ghost and whether or not Sam kept facing ghosts, he knew that he couldn't figure out his life trapped by three walls.
Reaching for the iron fireplace poker he'd left by his desk last night, Sam pulled off his headset and stood, pausing for only a moment before he swung the poker at the phone repeatedly before dropping the poker and turning to the room at large. "I quit," he said, calmly, before collecting his meager possessions and walking out of the room.
x
Upstairs, Dean engrossed himself in his work, trying not to think about the morning when his alarm had gone off. Fiona was gone, leaving only a note and freshly printed out divorce forms.
After that, Dean broke his ban on caffeine and made himself a double espresso.
xx
It was terrible. Last week, he'd been happy, looking forward to moving up in the company and now… Running a hand over his face, wearily, he realized that he was now facing a job he'd be forever questioning, a divorce from a marriage that had never felt real in the first place…
Hearing a knock on his office door, Dean looked up to see Adler standing there.
"Got a minute?" Zach said as he came in.
"Sure," Dean said, saving the memo he'd been drafting. "Of course."
"You feeling okay?" Zach asked, looking a bit concerned. "You look a little tired."
"Long night," Dean said casually. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Wild time with the missus?" Zach guessed with a smirk.
"Not so much," Dean admitted. After a moment, he met his boss's eyes and said, "Look, I, uh… I need to, uh… I need to give my notice."
"This is a joke," Zach said, leaning forward. "You're kidding me, right?"
"No," Dean replied, thinking through how to phrase it. "I don't know what I'm really meant to do, but… But I know it's not this. This isn't who I am." Dean had expected his boss to look disapproving, but instead the other man looked pleased.
"Dean, Dean, Dean…" Zach said, with a smile. "Finally." Reaching forward with two fingers extended, he touched the younger man's forehead, restoring Dean's true memories.
"What the Hell?" Dean said, taking in the strange surroundings. "Why am I wearing a—" He broke off when his stomach gave a nearly audible growl. "My God, am I hungry!" Getting up from his chair, he studied the man in front of him. "You're an angel, aren't you?"
The angel nodded. "I'm Zachariah."
"Great," Dean muttered, sarcastically. "That's all I need—another one of you guys."
"I'm hardly another one," Zachariah corrected. "I'm Castiel's superior." Looking at the vessel he was possessing before looking back at Dean, he added, "Believe me, I had no intention of popping down into one of these smelly things, but after the unfortunate situation with Uriel, I felt it necessary to pay a visit."
"Well, thanks for coming," Dean said, snidely. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."
"Dean, this was all to prove a point," Zachariah explained, calmly. "Being a hunter is in your blood. It's who you are and you'll find your way to it in the dark every time." Taking a step away from the desk, he gestured to the office. "You could have a far worse existence, Dean. And it's time you stop looking at the negative and focus on what's in front of you."
"So, what?" Dean snapped, still feeling pissed. "This has been some whole 'It's a Wonderful Life' game to you?"
"Call it what you will," the angel said with a shrug. "But learn the lesson, Dean. You can either be just another useless human stuck in a mindless existence or you can step up and become someone of significance."
Dean just stood silent for a moment but after a while, he said, "Just tell me I'm imagining that I was actually married to Fi."
Zachariah frowned slightly. "You two are close. It seemed to fit."
"Dude!" Dean said, suddenly feeling like he needed a long shower. "She's practically my sister!"
"Oh," the angel said, with a shrug. "Well, nothing I can do about it."
Dean opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could, Zachariah was gone. Yanking off the tie and unbuttoning the top button on his shirt, Dean felt his stomach growl again. That was it. The first diner he came to, he was buying the biggest burger on the menu.