What Chuck Would Have Overheard
K Hanna Korossy
"Can you believe this is the place we were so terrified of a decade ago?" Sam looked around at the foreboding statues that lined the hall they were passing through. "And now we just…stop in to talk to the Queen?"
Dean scowled. "Dude, I don't know about you, but my Hell was fire pits and being hung on hooks and-and 24/7 agony." He stared holes into the back of the demon who was leading them to Rowena. "Not…parties."
00000
"Do you…?" Jack stared at the bowl of cereal he currently wasn't eating.
"What?" Sam asked, not unkindly, sipping at his own coffee.
"Do you think Dean will ever…forgive me?" Jack tilted his head and peered up at Sam. "Castiel says Dean feels things more strongly than any other human he's met."
"Uh…" Sam blinked. "Wait. He said what?"
00000
"You don't suppose they've read all these books?" The Sam Winchester who came from another world peered distastefully around the home of the Sam who belonged to this one.
"What?" His brother looked up from the computer he'd been exploring. "Oh. I don't think that's possible, do you?"
"I don't know. You should see Sam's room." A shudder passed through Sam. "I think they…" He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "…do their own research."
"It can't be worse than Dean's room," Dean said. "The weapons are impressive, and what's under his bed is…well, interesting. But," his nose wrinkled, "you should hear what he considers music!"
00000
"Dude. That other Dean was so…Richie Rich."
Sam's mouth curled. They were finally alone again in their home, and still he felt like checking over his shoulder. "Hey, at least your double wasn't…"
"Prissy?"
Sam gave him a wilting look across the library table. "So…" He grew thoughtful. "I guess this means there were other universes where we didn't end up killing each other, huh?"
"I'm not sure anything ever really put those two to the test." Dean nodded toward the stairs their copies had recently left by. As far as the Winchesters could tell, the other Winchesters hadn't faced so much as a simple black-eyed demon. Dean considered a little longer. "There was the actor world Balthazar tossed us into."
"They weren't brothers, they just 'played them,'" Sam reminded him.
"And they weren't talking to each other, either." Dean said, smiling around his glass.
Sam snorted a laugh and tipped his glass in toast.
00000
"Please. Just please forgive me," a newly souled Jack begged the brothers, for killing their mother.
Sam and Dean looked at each other, and at him, faces lined with grief.
"Let's go to bed." Sam finally broke the silence, gently gripping Jack's shoulder. It was as much of an answer as any of them could give just then. "We can talk tomorrow."
The End