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In another place
We can be satisfied
Every road and desire leads to another place
When our ship comes in
We will be overjoyed
Count all our blessings
And dream of another place… (— “Another Place”, Animal Logic )
“Okay, then. I imagine this is, um…unexpected.”
“‘Unexpected’?” Dean echoed, blinking rapidly, hoping it was his eyes playing tricks on him. Perhaps his chronic lack of sleep and one too many celebratory shots of whiskey the night before, when they’d gotten home from a messy ghoul hunt, had gotten to him.
But, nope. No bueno. The two figures who’d appeared out of a flaming dimensional rift in the middle of the bunker’s kitchen were still standing there, right in front of him.
Dean struggled to find his voice to repeat again, “‘Unexpected.’ Yeah, that’s, ah…that’s one way to put it.”
“Dean!” came Cas’s worried call, along with heavy footfalls down the corridor. “I felt a sudden change in the—oh.” The angel cut himself off as he came to an abrupt halt in the kitchen doorway, eyes widening at the sight before him.
So that at least meant their guests were real, or they were both hallucinating.
The intruders smiled at Dean. Cas tilted his head, shock turning to puzzlement.
For their two surprise visitors appeared to be none other than dopplegängers of himself, Dean Winchester, and Castiel, angel of the lord.
Only this other Dean sported a somewhat different look than his own. He kept his hair longer than their dad would ever say was proper for a hunter. He also wore jewelry, close in style to pieces Dean had packed away years ago as being too youthful, not “manly” enough for the job, the life he led.
And as for this other Cas? Well…
Well. His untucked dress shirt and swollen abdomen suggested he’d either swallowed an entire watermelon whole, or he was…
No way. That was impossible.
Wasn’t it?
Dean knew it was possible for angels to knock up humans, of course—Jack was living proof of that. But he’d never come across a pregnant (—ohgodohfuckwhatthefuck—) angel before. Certainly not one in a male vessel.
If he was male. Maybe things were different in whatever universe these two came from. Who the hell knew. Maybe Dean was spinning shit out of nothing because his brain was in meltdown mode and this other Cas normally looked like that or something and—
Fuck \.
The other Castiel mirrored his Cas’s head tilt, then looked to his companion. “I’m sorry, Dean,” he began. “It appears she sensed we were in imminent danger, and once more felt this was the fastest way to escape.”
“S’ok, babe,” other-Dean said (“Babe?!”), smiling softly at his Cas, who had placed his hand over his protruding abdomen. Other-Dean gently caressed his Cas’s shoulder and his tone was consoling. “At least this world seems sorta close to ours, not like the last universe she dropped us in.”
“Hmm,” came a rumbled agreement. “All the iguanas. That was disturbing.”
“Hey, so uh, either of you think you could explain what the hell is going on here?!” Dean squawked, not sure what was freaking him out the most: the mere existence of these look-alikes, the fact that this other Cas appeared to be heavily pregnant, or the glances the two were exchanging with each other.
Like they were…together. Together-together, in a way that threatened to short-circuit Dean’s brain even further than it was already sparking out.
“That might take a little while.” The other-Dean shot a glance at the generous stack of pancakes and bacon Dean had just finished preparing for himself. Yes, it was almost one in the afternoon, but he’d enjoyed the rare sleep-in and breakfast food was perfect any time of the day.
Not that he needed to justify his meal choices to anyone. Sam wasn’t around to yell about his cholesterol or any shit like that. “Don’t suppose we could have a seat, and maybe, somethin’ to eat? It’s been a while since I ate anything that I didn’t have to hunt and skin myself and pray wouldn’t end up being poisonous.”
“I would merely ask for use of a seat, if I may?” other-Cas asked.
“Of course, here.” Cas rushed over to take his double’s free arm and lead him to a chair at the table. Other-Cas looked up at him with a grateful smile.
“Food, yeah, sure, uh…” Dean ran over to grab the plates and put them on the table in front of his own double. “Have at it.” With all this going on, his appetite had taken a sudden back seat to getting some answers. Coffee was about all he was going to be able to stomach right now.
“Thanks!” The other Dean sat next to other-Cas, pouring a generous amount of syrup over the pancake stack. He picked up the utensils Dean had already put out for himself and dug in with gusto, while other-Cas took one piece of crispy bacon to examine and then chew on slowly.
“You’re aware of the existence of other universes, yes?” other-Cas asked, after swallowing down his careful bite.
“We are,” Cas confirmed. He’d taken the seat across from the newcomers, and Dean did the same after getting his coffee. “And that nephilim can be powerful enough to open pathways between them.”
Other-Cas nodded. “That’s correct. Either as a simple manifestation of their great power or, in our child’s case, a defense mechanism.”
Dean nearly choked on a mouthful of his coffee. “Your…your child?”
“What, you’d think I’d let someone else put a bun in Cas’s oven?” Their visitors looked at each other and shared those stupid, fond smiles again. And then other-Dean looked at Dean, a frown replacing his too-soft expression. “Wait, hold on, hold on a sec. You mean, you two aren’t…?”
“We aren’t what?” Dean demanded. “Cas and I, we—w-we’re friends. Best friends. Right, Cas?”
Cas nodded. “Dean and I share a very profound bond.”
Other-Dean snorted as he dug into his pancakes. “‘Profound bond.’ Heh. We’ve gotten up to our fair share of ‘profound bonding’ too. Or maybe profound boning’s a better way to put it.”
“Dean,” other-Cas chided him.
Dean wanted to crawl under the table.
There seemed to be nowhere safe to turn his attention—his weird double smirking at him, other-Cas appearing weary yet fond of his shenanigans, and his own Cas taking it all in with his frustratingly calm curiosity.
Other-Dean shook his head. “Sorry. I just…damn. We’ve run into ourselves more than a few times before and there ain’t been a universe where we weren’t knocking boots. At least, as long as both of us were still alive.”
The two exchanged a look this time that spoke of sadness and loss. It made Dean think of every time he’d thought he’d lost his Cas forever, and Dean shifted uncomfortably.
“Your child, when is she due to arrive?” Cas asked, and Dean was grateful for the change in topic.
“Very soon,” other-Cas said. “Within the next several weeks, by my best estimation.”
Other-Dean beamed at that. “I can’t wait to finally meet my girl, after all these years.”
Oh, this just keeps getting weirder and weirder. “Years? How long’ve you been carrying that thing?”
Other-Dean scowled at him. “Our child is not a ‘thing.’ She’s going to be a beautiful baby girl when she’s ready to reveal herself to the world.”
“I’ve been carrying the light of Olivia’s grace and soul for eight years now,” other-Cas supplied. “Since I rejected my orders and we chose to put love over destiny.”
And with that, they began telling their story.
Much of it was not much different from Dean and Cas’s own in this universe. It began with John Winchester and Mary Campbell, brought together by a cupid and destined by fate to bear Dean and Sam as their children.
The yellow-eyed demon, Mary’s death, John’s trail of vengeance across North America.
Dean making a crossroads deal for Sam’s life that led him to spending the equivalent of decades in Hell, before his rescue and resurrection by the angel, Castiel.
“Okay, so how does a baby fit into all this?” Dean asked.
“Two children, both progeny of an archangel and human, were meant to lead the armies of the apocalypse in our world.” other-Cas explained. “In our universe, the melding of soul and grace leads to the creation of a nephil, regardless of the physical sexes of the human parent and angelic vessel involved. Dean was meant to bond in this way with Michael, and Sam with Lucifer, once the seals were broken and the Morningstar freed from the cage.”
“Damn. And I thought us being their meat suits would be bad enough,” Dean grumbled to his Cas.
Cas turned to his counterpart and said, “So you chose to stop this by...bonding your grace to Dean instead?”
“I…yes.” The other-Cas looked almost embarrassed for a moment. “From the moment I first touched Dean’s soul in Hell, I felt…” he trailed off, the words apparently hard to come by.
But Dean’s own Cas seemed to understand. “You felt, after not feeling anything for too long,” he supplied.
Other-Cas nodded. “And I began to doubt my mission. Not the part about saving Dean, but leading him to accepting submission to Michael. And as we fought against it, against destiny…”
“I fell in love with this son of a bitch,” other-Dean said, a dreamy-eyed look falling over his face. “And we realized the easiest way to stop the other angels’ plans for armageddon was, well, basically to spoil me for Michael.”
“So we made our bond complete,” other-Cas said, reaching to touch other-Dean’s shoulder gently.
Shit, they could hardly keep their hands off each other, let alone tone down the eye-fucking.
Dean’s insides were all kinds of twisted up at seeing that. He wanted to look away, but that would mean looking at his own Cas, and he—he couldn’t do that right now.
Hell, he didn’t know how he was ever going to be able to look at Cas the same after this.
“Yet, they are still hunting you? And what of Sam?” Cas asked.
Both of their expressions became pained. “Sam wouldn’t say yes, not willingly. So Lucifer just…” other-Dean trailed off.
“Lucifer took what he wanted,” other-Cas finished for him. “And their child was born several months ago. The angels been after us more than ever since then.”
“Yeah.” Other-Dean nodded. “They decided our kid was gonna be good enough for the fight after all, since she was still mine, and half-angel. We ran into one of Michael’s commanders a few worlds’ back, got his plan out of him with a little… deep persuasion. To take the child once she’s born, cut out Cas’s grace from her and replace it with Michael’s.”
“But that’s…it’s poison to take another’s grace,” Cas supplied, and yeah. He would know.
“They don’t care,” other-Cas said. “They only need her to be fighting strength long enough to take on Lucifer and Sam’s child. If she dies soon after that, it won’t matter to them. The battle will be over, with either Michael or Lucifer’s armies victorious.”
“That’s why we can’t stop running,” other-Dean finished. “Not until we find a way to stop them. When she’s here and strong enough to fight back with us—or help us find some place to hide where they can never touch the three of us again.”
“So…you’ll survive giving birth?” Dean asked, and their visitors looked at him, confused. “In our universe, giving birth to a nephil, uh…it doesn’t end well for the mother. At least, not if she’s human.”
“I see,” other-Cas said. “That is unfortunate, but not how it works in our world.”
“Good thing. Or else I definitely woulda made sure Cas was on the pill before we got busy.”
Dean tried to imagine it: being on the run for all those years, without Sam. But with Cas. A version of Cas he was…
Oh man. This was all still too much for him to try to process on one cup of coffee.
He had a billion more questions (and an equal amount of things he didn’t want to know), but the other-Cas suddenly winced and placed his hand on his abdomen, turning pale.
“You okay, sweetheart?” other-Dean asked, immediately turning to him with concern.
Dean’s stomach twisted once again.
“Yes, I…I’m just feeling a bit tired, now. Olivia is as well. You know opening a rift takes a considerable amount of effort and…it drains both of our graces for a time.”
“Let me take you somewhere more comfortable to rest,” Cas urged, getting up on his feet. “You can lay down in my room; perhaps I can even assist in soothing and restoring your grace.”
“Thank you,” other-Cas said. “If you’ll excuse us…?”
“Yeah, sure,” Dean said, turning to his Cas with a nod.
Other-Dean’s eyes lingered on the angels as they both got up and departed the galley, the pregnant Cas leaning gently against the other. Then he smirked and shook his head, his attention turning back to the remnants of his breakfast. “Never gets old,” he said.
“What’s that?” Dean prompted.
“Two of ’em at once. I love it. Couple times with all this universe hoppin’, we even, heh…” he trailed off and waggled his eyebrows, then leaned over the table. “Dude, I seriously can’t believe you never tapped that. You don’t know what you’re missing. Granted, it’s gotten a little tricky with the—” he paused to mime a distended belly, “–the past year or so, but we still find a way.”
“I’m not gay!” Dean blurted out, surprising himself at how loudly he voiced his insistence. Embarrassment flushed his cheeks as he hoped his Cas hadn’t heard him. “I don’t—I-I mean, good for you, I guess, but I don’t…I’m not into dudes.”
“You sure of that? Plus, I mean, Cas isn’t really a ‘dude,’ he’s…he’s just Cas. I’ve seen him in a bunch of different universes now. Sometimes he’s in the same vessel; sometimes he’s in this smokin’ hot lady’s vessel that he’s had for, like, a hundred years now. Sometimes he’s even used me as his vessel, so that Michael couldn’t take you.”
“Seriously?” And it’s weird, but for some reason that idea gives Dean all sorts of strange and unexpected feelings.
“Yeah, seriously. But at the end of the day, no matter what…it’s always me ’n Cas. And the worlds where one or both of us aren’t there, aren’t together…they’re never any good, believe me.”
Dean thought of the apocalypse world, where Mary hadn’t made her deal with Azazel and he and Sam had never been born. “I, ah, yeah. I’ve seen what that can be like.”
“Anyway, thanks for the grub. And this place is seriously cool. It’s like the fuckin’ Bat Cave or something.”
“You’ve never been in a Men of Letters bunker in all your jumping around?”
He shook his head. “Not one like this. Heard of ’em, sometimes been in the burned-out remains of one of their safe houses or bunkers, but…no, never seen an active one..”
Dean grinned, feeling a bit more on familiar, comfortable ground—and proud of this place he’d come to call home. “Alright, then. If you’re done eating, how about I give you the grand tour?”
“That’d be awesome.”
Cas led his other-universe self through the corridors of the bunker to his room. Well, what was at least the guest room he took to use for himself when he was here, which meant he kept it clean and readily habitable, free of dust from disuse.
He wasn’t sure he should call it “his,” as neither Dean nor Sam had officially ever said as much.
And he didn’t like to presume.
Not since that one time, a few years ago. When he’d fallen human and assumed he would be allowed to stay here. Welcomed and sheltered, even, as their friend.
Yet Dean had instead told him to leave.
“Thank you again for all this,” the other said, as Cas opened the door and turned the lights on.
“Of course. It is nothing. Please.” Cas watched as this version of himself settled gently on the bed. He was fascinated, concerned, and…
…and there was another emotion there, lurking in the back of his thoughts. Something he wasn’t sure he’d felt before, at least never to this extent.
He believed it was what the humans called “jealousy.”
He found he did not care for it.
There was no denying it hurt—and not just seeing the easy way this Cas and Dean interacted with each other (and he dare not think too closely about that.) But it was in seeing and feeling this other’s grace, strong and vibrant as his own had once been. Even when wearied by the nephil’s exertion, it still was far stronger than his own now was.
And his wings were full and lustrous. Functional. It made Cas all the more self-conscious of his own battered and useless wings and instinctively he tried to hide them further behind his back.
This other’s vessel, too, looked as though it had not aged a day since he’d taken it. Meanwhile, with all the times Cas had lost his grace completely? With having run on stolen grace, and now operating on a mere fraction of what it had once been? Cas knew his own vessel had started to show almost human levels of aging, and there was little he was able to do about it.
Even so, his desire, his innate need to help and to heal compelled him. “Can I help replenish you? Ease your weariness?” he asked, a hand reaching for the other without a moment’s hesitation.
His double stopped him, though, grasping his wrist before he could touch his vessel. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine in a few hours. I wouldn’t feel right taking anything, when…”
“...when I’m in such ragged shape to begin with?”
The other looked at him with apology in his eyes and the posture of his wings. “I meant no insult.”
“None taken. I understand.”
“It’s simply…what have you been through, in this world? I have the feeling it has taken a tremendous amount from you.”
“It has,” Cas confirmed. “I have done many things I regret. I have made poor choices but it was always from doing what I felt I had to. In this world, we had to stop not merely one, but several apocalypses. The last one was due to God’s sister, Amara, being released from her otherwise eternal prison.”
The other’s eyes widened and his wings flexed at the surprise. “God has a sister?”
Cas nodded. “And Lucifer also fathered a child, here, but under much different circumstances. The nephil, Jack, he…” Cas paused to smile, thoughts of Jack always filling him with such joy. “He is with us now. I hope you can meet him while you are here. Right now he is on a hunt with Sam. He is good. The light of my world.”
“I hope I can meet him as well, to see who would make your grace shine as it does when you speak of him.”
Cas ducked his head. “The way your Dean makes yours.”
“I can tell that you also…” the other trailed off, the rest so easy to fill in.
Cas nodded, and prayed the words he would not dare speak aloud. Yes, I love him. So much my vessel can barely contain it.
“Then why is it not so, between you? You haven’t told him…?”
Cas sighed and shook his head. “There is so much between us, bad along with the good, that I…I do not think such would be possible between us, here.”
“Perhaps, but…could you, would you mind showing me?” The other reached inside of his coat and pulled out a leather-bound journal. “I have tried to chronicle the stories of every world, particularly every version of us, that we have come across. I would add your story, if you do not mind sharing it. And perhaps reading these would help you as well.”
The power to search thoughts and memories was one of Castiel’s more unique and specialized angelic gifts, apparently the same in every universe. It was an irony not lost on him, given how many times his own memory had been cut from his mind.
He hesitated only briefly before saying, “If you would like to and it would not tax you too much, I…yes, you may.”
He moved to the bed as well, sitting beside his double. The other placed his hands on Cas’s head and Cas closed his eyes, shuddering slightly as the feeling of familiar yet so much more powerful grace poured into him.
Humans tended to find this procedure quite painful, particularly if they resisted. For Cas, the pain came from the memories unraveling in rapid succession before him.
Deceiving the Winchesters as he worked with Crowley to obtain the souls of purgatory.
Leviathans.
Sam’s madness turning into his own.
Metatron’s trickery, falling human. Burning himself out with the grace of other angels.
The corruption of housing Lucifer within his own vessel.
How low he’d felt until Jack had first reached out to him, to show him a vision of a possible, peace-filled future. The only thing he’d had left to hope for and then—
The dark nothingness of the Empty.
The other pulled away from him with a gasp. “Are you alright?” Cas asked, worried it had been too much for his other self to handle.
“Yes, I…I understand, now. And I’m sorry.”
“I don’t mean to burden you with my problems.”
“It is fine. But I believe I will rest now, for a while.” He nodded toward the journal. “You may take that and read, if you’d like. You may find it eases some of the weight you carry.”
Cas wasn’t sure if it could or not, but he was curious. “Thank you.”
Dean’s grand tour of the bunker concluded with a spin around the outskirts of Lebanon in Baby. It turned out his other self hadn’t been back in this beloved car in a dozen universes or so.
“—And I sure missed the hell outta the old girl,” he said with a loving sigh, one that went a long way toward endearing this other version of Dean to himself. “You take real good care of her.”
“I think dad’d be proud,” Dean said.
Other-Dean squinted at him. “You still care that much? About what the old man would think of you?”
“And you never did?”
“To a point, sure. But that day in the hospital, when the last thing he told me was I might have to kill Sam? Did he tell you that, too?”
Dean swallowed and managed a small nod.
“Yeah, well…that was the day I stopped giving a shit what that bastard ever thought of me. After all those years, everything I did for Sam? Raising him up when our own father cared more about revenge than about us? We burned his body that night and I ain’t never looked back.”
“And then you lost Sam anyway. To Lucifer.”
“Lucifer tricked Sam. Forced him. Possession may take consent but not…not what Lucifer did to him. And for that, if I can’t get my brother back, I’m gonna make that son of a bitch of an angel pay.”
Upon returning to the bunker, other-Dean asked to go join his Cas, saying he could use some rest, too. So Dean led him to Cas’s room, finding only the sleeping and heavily-pregnant version of the angel there.
“Guess I’ll go find where my angel’s wandered off to,” Dean muttered as he shut the door behind them.
It didn’t take very long. Cas was in the library, settled in his favored chair next to an old reading lamp. He glanced up as Dean entered.
“Hey.”
“Hello, Dean.”
“What’ve you got there?” Dean asked, noticing the unfamiliar leather-bound journal in his hands.
“My counterpart has kept notes on each of the different universes they’ve visited. It’s quite fascinating.”
“Yeah?”
“Hmm.”
Dean eyed the decanter he kept filled with the Men of Letters’ stash of damn good whiskey. The amber liquid was calling out to him—and after the afternoon’s events, he deserved it. He poured himself enough to take the edge off while hopefully not earning a concerned frown from the angel.
“This sure is crazy, ain’t it?” he said, trying to take a light tone as he sunk into the chair next to Cas’s. “Jesus…sure glad Sam and Jack aren’t around right now.”
“Why?”
Dean started to open his mouth and then found himself stammering to answer. “Because, ah…well. Y’know. Having to explain to Sam how he knocked up Lucifer in another universe.”
“I see.”
“Yeah. And I’m not sure how these guys would react to Jack, all things considered. With their…situation and all.” Dean took a sip of his whiskey.
He wished he’d poured himself three fingers, not two.
“Hmm.” Cas’s expression seemed pained, like he wanted to say something further. He fell quiet for a few minutes while Dean toyed with his glass, tried to pace himself to sip at it slowly versus chugging it all down and then going for more. He focused on the light reflections on the cut glass, not the way Cas’s large hands so delicately held the journal.
“They make you deeply uncomfortable,” Cas finally said.
“Well, yeah. Doesn’t it freak you out to see another version of yourself? One that’s knocked up and ready to pop with our—a baby?”
Cas shrugged. “Not especially. It rather…comforts me, to know that our relationship exists and is uniquely powerful not just in our universe, but in others where our paths have managed to cross.”
Dean fidgeted. “Yeah, but, still. It’s…weird.”
Cas only sighed and fell quiet for a while. He then got up and placed the journal on the table beside the whiskey decanter. “Perhaps you should read some of this for yourself. And then it may not seem so ‘weird’ to you.”
Cas walked away before Dean could say anything else, before he could respond to the bitter edge in Cas’s voice.
He wasn’t…Cas couldn’t want for the two of them to be like…like that…
Could he?
Dean’s gaze fell upon the leather-bound journal. He supposed he was curious enough to give it a quick skim, to find out what had gotten Cas all riled up.
Though he was going to pour himself another stiff one first.
Cas’s handwriting in the journal was incredibly precise. That much was consistent, one universe to the next. The stories he told were also carefully worded with a restraint of language that left Dean wondering how much he was leaving unsaid, how much was stored away in that ancient, massive cosmic entity brain of his.
Earth #5 - February 17, 2010
It is not clear to us what happened to Jimmy in this world. My counterpart has taken Claire as his vessel. This Dean is very protective of them both, like a father to a child—thereby he is a bit perturbed by our relationship. Still, it gives me glimpses of how Dean will be once Olivia is born, and I know he will be an incredible parent to our child.
Earth # 21 - August 4, 2011
Dean seems quite entranced by this world and no doubt would wish to stay for some longer time, if possible. I’m sure the fact that human females here possess tentacles for breeding has some large part to do with that. I will admit the mechanics were quite fascinating to observe.
Earth # 36 - May 12, 2013
Nuclear war has devastated this version of Earth. I do not like being here—not only for the sadness permeating all remaining life, but the grace I must expend to keep Dean from being affected by the radiation. Our counterparts exist in the same desperate fashion, day after day, and it is grueling for them both.
There are horrors here among the survivors I do not wish to dwell upon. We told them of the other worlds, how to look for spells to get there. But they refused, saying their world needed them to stay, to find some way to go on and perhaps, one day, rebuild.
One entry sounded like the Apocalypse World where Mary and Jack had been trapped, although it was focused on a very different Cas whom Dean found himself thankful he’d not directly come across:
Earth #63 - September 21, 2015
My counterpart here had no Dean to save from Hell—nor to later be saved from existing as nothing but a weapon of Heaven during an apocalyptic battle brought by this universe’s Michael. I pitied him, simply watching from afar, his grace tattered and broken from too many sessions of “reprogramming”, his wings clipped and useless. Dean said that meant he must have still tried to rebel against orders, no doubt many times.
Perhaps that is the case.
But what was left behind was a horror for me to observe, and I wished for the opportunity to sink my blade into this other Castiel’s grace and at least grant him rest. But the risk of exposure was too high; our portal to the next world opened and we ran for it, afraid the brutal angels of this world would descend upon us. Or worse, follow us onward and bring their chaos to another dimension.
Earth #51 - October 1, 2014
Dean says this world is rather like a fairy tale, but I am unfamiliar with the specifics of that genre of literature. Here the demons and angels fought a great war long ago, ending with the angels imprisoned for centuries in a strange void in space. The humans lived in castles and fortresses, lands protected from demons and unaware that angels still survived, until my counterpart was sent on a mission to free them—and he fell for the fair Prince Dean. It is a beautiful world now, rich with magic, though there is a bit too much ritualized dancing for my tastes.
Earth #71 - December 25, 2015
We have found ourselves in a world with no angels, no demons. No Heaven, nor Hell, apparently—in fact, curious enough, humans here never seem to have entertained the idea of any afterlife or religion, yet I have determined that they do possess souls. I’m uncertain what happens to them after death. Are their souls reincarnated to live again? Or do they give up their essence to this universe as a whole? No matter the case, it is curiously peaceful, here.
My counterpart is human, and he and this Dean share a happy home with several orphaned children they’ve adopted—and quite a few animals. I am apparently a well-respected veterinarian; Dean runs a bakery and daily makes so many of his beloved pies. I must admit I envy the simple happiness of their existence; why couldn’t father have made his other worlds, more of his creations like this one? Is this not a better way?
Is eternal paradise for some worth the constant suffering and pain of so many others?
On and on, the stories continued. Dean read well into the night, forgetting about dinner, even forgetting about the new episode of Dr. Sexy airing that evening. He ended up falling asleep there in the library, an empty whiskey glass in one hand, the journal in his other.
When he woke up, some time in the early morning hours, the glass had been cleaned and returned to its place.
The journal was nowhere to be found.
“Hello, Castiel!”
“Hello, Jack. How is your hunt with Sam going?”
“It’s been great! We solved the haunting and I figured out the cursed object all on my own.”
The sense of pride in Jack’s voice made Cas’s grace hum and he smiled to himself. “That’s wonderful, Jack. I’m sure Sam is quite pleased.”
“He is. Last night we burned it and we’re just sticking around through tomorrow to be completely certain the ghost is gone. Once we are, Sam said he’ll take me to see some of the sights in Philadelphia since we’re so close: the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, the Mütter Museum that has something in their archives Sam wants to check out. Oh! And the Rocky Steps outside the art museum! I want to take a photo to show to Dean when we get home.”
“That’s a very good idea. You should take the opportunity to enjoy yourself and learn about the world around us—not just monsters and hunting.”
“That’s what Sam keeps telling me. How are you and Dean doing? ”
“We are well. Dean is…deep-cleaning the bunker. He is being very thorough.”
Cas could almost see Jack’s frown in his voice as he answered, “That usually means he’s upset or avoiding something. Are you sure everything’s okay?”
Cas sighed. He wanted to share the story about their visitors from another dimension, but not over the phone. That, and he wanted Jack to enjoy this time away from the bunker with Sam, to not worry about anything or anyone else. Their guests had also warned it could be a little dangerous here, with their Michael and Lucifer hunting for them, to be nearby until they moved on. So it was best to keep Jack at a safe distance for the moment. “It’s nothing for you to be concerned about. Enjoy yourself.”
“Okay, I will. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Cas.”
“Take care, Jack.”
Three nights had passed since the Dean and Cas from another universe had landed in the bunker. Dean was doing his best to keep busy and to himself, avoiding everyone else present as much as possible. That had proven relatively easy, given that Cas was spending most of his time camped out with his pregnant double in his room, resting and talking about who-knew-what. The other Dean didn’t stray far from his Cas’s side, either, except to occasionally lounge about in the Dean Cave watching television, take obscenely long showers, and in general “enjoy a taste of the easy life while it lasts.”
(That taste included plenty of the Men of Letters’ liquor stash, much to Dean’s dismay.)
Of course, Dean couldn’t argue with any of those choices—not after reading about some of the things they’d been through in the other Cas’s journal. And maybe they were more alike than he’d thought at first.
But now? Dean had finished most of the cleaning tasks he could dream up, and even his other self seemed to be getting antsy. So when a call came in from another hunter, about a vampire nest he’d found in Lincoln, Nebraska?
Dean was eager to jump in Baby to lend a hand—and for the distraction.
“Tyronne’s good, but it sounds like this nest could be a pretty big one. He only has one other local hunter available as backup, so I thought I should go help him out.” Dean explained all this to the others before packing up to leave for the day.
“Can I come, too?” other-Dean asked.
“Uh…” That wasn’t exactly what Dean had been planning, but, “I guess,” he answered. He’d have to explain to Tyronne how he’d acquired a virtually-identical twin from another dimension, which could get dicey. But as long as other-Dean kept quiet about knocking up an angel? Dean figured he could handle it. “If you’re okay bein’ away for all of today, and maybe not getting back here until tomorrow? Sure.”
Other-Dean looked at his Cas, who shrugged. “You have time. Olivia is still at least several days away from being born.”
“Cool.” Other-Dean grinned. “And yeah, I could use a milk-run vamp hunt. Wouldn’t mind seeing what they’re like here, compared to some of the fugly fanged bastards we’ve tangled with in other worlds. Call it an educational exercise.”
“Be careful,” other-Cas admonished him. They shared a good-bye kiss that Dean wished he’d looked away from at the start—though he then caught Cas gazing down at the floor, and that was not much better.
But yeah. Get out for a day. Kill a few monsters. Sounded like a decent plan to him.
Anything to put a little distance between himself, the bunker, and uncomfortable feelings both his and this other Cas were stirring up inside of him.
“If, uh, anything happens we need to know about? Text me. Right away,” Dean told Cas, and then headed out to gather his stuff before he could hear anything back in response.
It would only take a couple hours to get to Lincoln, to the rendezvous spot picked by Tyronne and his hunting partner, Rhonda. Dean kept the car stereo blasting through most of the drive, to hopefully avoid any in-depth conversation.
And yet, when they were only twenty minutes or so away from the end of their journey? He ended up being the one to ask a few things when the cassette ran out. Maybe it was the anticipation of the upcoming fight, that sobering moment of reflecting on how one small slip could be all it took, in any hunt, for things to go wrong.
“So, uh, I read some of your Cas’s journal about all the places you’ve been to. I hope that’s okay,” he began.
“Sure. Pretty wild stuff, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Dean spared a glance at the other version of himself, noting the way the light caught and reflected off his ring as he brought his hand up through his hair. He told himself he wasn’t jealous—what the fuck was there to be jealous about?
Being on the run constantly for years like that.
Looking almost like Sam with that floppy long hair, jesus christ.
“You all ever think about just…holing up in one of those places and staying put? Some of them sounded like they weren’t too bad.”
Tentacle world. He couldn’t stop thinking about tentacle world.
“Sure. Bunch of times I’ve wished we could’ve stayed longer where we were at. Maybe even for good. Except we can’t, not until the baby’s born and we’re strong enough to take on Michael—and Lucifer’s kid.”
“And when that’s done and over…if you make it through and win. What then?”
Other-Dean shrugged. “I don’t let myself think or dream about that too much, y’know? Worrying about keeping Cas and Olivia safe is all I can manage for now, and maybe…maybe somehow getting Sam back.
“And I think, if we got the choice? Truth be told, I just hope we can go back to our own world. ’Cause, no matter what, it’s home. It’s ours. Even if it’s a home we haven’t been able to see in what’s getting close to a decade now.”
“Yeah. I get that. And you never…no regrets about anything? About you ’n Cas, and…well, all that?”
“If there’s one thing I never regret, it’s being with Cas. Putting my faith in him, ’cause he’s the only one besides Sam who’s ever had that kind of faith in me.”
There was nothing Dean could say to counter those words. So instead he put in a fresh tape and tried to focus on the music until they reached their destination.
The hunt was, thankfully, little more than a milk run as anticipated—at least for four experienced hunters working together as a team. Dean was glad he hadn’t let the others handle the nest of a good dozen vamps on their own, though. The leader of the nest was old and strong enough to put up one hell of a fight, and his followers were hungry and angry enough to be a dangerous handful.
Dean and other-Dean did get some interesting looks from Tyronne and Rhonda when they arrived, but who could object to having an extra Winchester on their side? By nightfall, they had cleared out the nest, burned all the evidence, and settled in to celebrate the successful hunt over beers and burgers at a local dive bar.
“You two spendin’ the night in town, or are you heading straight back home?” Tyronne asked them.
“Dunno,” Dean answered. He tossed back the last of his second beer and contemplated trading the empty bottle in for a third. “Depends on how much we’re drinkin’, I suppose.”
“Well, there’s always room back at my place, if you want to relax and crash out,” Tyronne said.
“Room at my place, too,” Rhonda added, giving the near-identical Deans an appreciative once-over. “If either or both of you are so inclined.”
There’d been a time when Dean very much would have been—inclined, that is, to spend the evening in the easy and inviting company of a woman like Rhonda. (It didn’t hurt that she reminded him, name and all, of another, very special Rhonda from his younger days.) Hell, as weird as it was, he might’ve even found it intriguing to share that evening with his own double, too.
But these days? Things were different. It had been a long time—hell, since his stint barking at the moon with Crowley, now that he thought about it—that he’d gone for the love-them-and-leave-them, no-strings-attached kind of fling. Since he’d gone for, well…anyone, in that way.
And if he tried to analyze the reasons why, he only felt more uncomfortable.
Because he kept seeing one thing. One face. One person—or really, one wavelength of celestial intent wrapped in a cheap suit and an ill-fitting trenchcoat.
Cas.
His Cas, kind of weary and rough around the edges, but looking at him in the same way the other-Cas looked at other-Dean, all liquid blue eyes and soft smiles and…
Fuck.
Shit, damn, and fuck.
It was all there, wasn’t it?
It had all been there, right in front of his eyes all this time, hadn’t it?
Dean was pulled out of his moment of dizzying, sudden revelation by his vibrating cell phone. He took it out of his jacket pocket and frowned at the message on the screen.
It was from Cas.
Olivia has opened a new rift in the kitchen. They need to leave soon, so if you are finished with your hunt please return to the bunker.
“Shit. We got to go,” Dean said.
“Trouble?” Rhonda asked.
Dean showed the message to his other self, whose expression tightened up as he nodded. “More like time to get movin’ to avoid trouble,” he said. “But I will take a to-go box; I’m not leavin’ the rest of this burger behind. Could be a while before I get to enjoy another as good as this one.”
Given the circumstances, Dean wouldn’t even bitch about someone eating in his precious Baby.
Dean floored it all the way back to the bunker, even as his other self assured him they didn’t necessarily have to hurry. “I don’t sense any major panic from Livi, so we have time,” he explained. “She might just feel like we’ve been hangin’ around one place for too long. Might want us to move on to somewhere else so we don’t put you all in danger.”
“You can sense things like that from her?”
“Not always—not like Cas does. But if something big’s brewin’, yeah. Kid can get in my head.”
“Huh. Must be kind of neat. I guess. And weird.”
Other-Dean shrugged. “You get used to it. Far from the weirdest thing in my life.”
“True, that.”
The flat landscape of Kansas breezed by under the night sky, not much of anything for miles save the highway and occasional exit sign. Dean had the stereo down low, barely there as white noise for his muddled thoughts. “Can I ask you something?” he finally said.
“Sure.”
“Who…I mean, when did you, with Cas…how did you know?” Dean cursed himself for stumbling over his words. It was just…this was hard for him. He hoped the intent of his question came through, even as he still struggled to express himself.
“He says he knew, at least on some level, the moment he first saw me in Hell. But I was the one to finally do something about it. I think it had to be me.”
“Yeah?”
Other-Dean nodded. “You know Cas. He’s gonna put everyone else before himself. But then I knew… I just knew when I kissed him for the first time that, shit…there wasn’t ever gonna be anyone else. Not for me. I don’t think for you, either. You’re just bein’ a damn ‘idjit’, as Bobby used to say, if you think otherwise.”
Dean found it was getting harder to deny that his other self might be right. “Bobby was a smart man.”
“Smartest guy I ever knew. Well, except maybe for Sam.”
“I hope you get your Sam back,” Dean said. “You didn’t say exactly, but is he...”
“Still alive?”
Dean nodded.
“In a fashion. Lucifer has him locked up in his old cage in Hell. He’s been there since Lucifer ripped out part of his soul to make the baby.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. Cas says there’s still a chance...Olivia might be strong enough to fix him, to put it back. I gotta hope so, y’know?”
“Yeah. I do. Sometimes, hope is all we got.”
“And Cas.”
“And Cas,” Dean repeated. He turned his focus back to the road, then, and kept driving, the whole time thinking about what he should do when they got there. What he should say. Words that were no doubt long overdue—and hopefully, weren’t too little, too late.
“Safe travels to the three of you,” Cas said to his double, when they’d all gathered in the kitchen, at the rift, to say their good-byes. “It is a pity you need to leave so soon. I would have enjoyed meeting Olivia, helping with her arrival in this world.”
The angels exchanged mirror-image smiles as Dean enjoyed the view for what he supposed would be the last time. “You’ve already helped us a great deal,” other-Cas said. “And perhaps we will be able to come back to see you, some day. Once our fight is over.”
“Some day. We will look forward to it,” Cas said, and Dean nodded his agreement.
Other-Cas paused and tilted his head, as if listening to something...or someone. “Before we go, Olivia wishes to share her own good-bye—and to give you something in thanks for your gracious assistance.”
He held his hands out to Cas, who stepped closer after only a moment’s hesitation.
Fear ran through Dean at what he saw next—for it reminded him too much of a dark scene from his past. The night when the pregnant Kelly Kline had taken Cas’s hand and golden light had flowed between them.
Only this time, the light held a greenish-blue hue. It lit up both of Cas’s hands, veined up his neck to his face and eyes, and then the air in the room sparked with electricity.
Dean blinked against the sudden brightness. He opened his eyes barely in time to catch the shadow of tremendous wings stretching out from his Cas’s shoulder blades.
Cas seemed too awed to speak, and as the alien glow faded from his eyes, Dean found they were moist with unshed tears.
“Cas?” Dean started, shaken and fearful. But in that moment, Cas only had eyes for his twin.
“T-thank you. Thank Olivia, please, I—”
“She says it was no trouble. The least she could do in gratitude for your sheltering us, and sharing your story. Your memories.”
“Now we really better get goin’,” the other Dean said. He shouldered the bag Dean had packed for them full of food and other survival supplies, in case they landed somewhere far less hospitable. He went to Dean for a hug and Dean accepted it easily, even if it was kind of weird to be hugging himself. “I’d leave the extra warding we put up in place for at least a couple weeks, just in case.”
“Right.” Dean nodded. “To keep your Michael and Lucifer off your trail. No sweat. Hey, good luck, guys.”
The two visitors took each other’s hands and, with a final look and wave back at Dean and Cas, stepped forward into the rift. It flared briefly as they vanished through it.
“I wonder where that’ll lead them,” Dean said, trying to imagine what might be on the other side.
“Hopefully somewhere safe. With the child due to arrive so soon, it is unfortunate they couldn’t stay here longer, in the security of the bunker.”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm.”
They both stared at the flaming portal, silent for a minute. After a shared glance between them, Dean finally voiced what he figured they were both thinking.
“It’s…kinda tempting to take a peek, isn’t it? Just to see what’s there, y’know?”
“I know,” Cas agreed. “But we shouldn’t.”
“Totally. You’re right.”
But damned if Dean still wasn’t still itching to see what was there.
Just a quick peek.
Just because.
Before foolish curiosity could lead either of them to make a terribly bad decision, however, there was a bright flash and fizzle, and the rift closed in on itself.
Dean sighed. “Well, so much for that.”
“Probably for the best.”
“Yeah.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. With now nothing and no one else to focus on, Cas’s presence beside him had become almost overwhelming. “Anyway. Well, congratulations. You got your wings back, huh?”
“So it seems,” Cas confirmed, sounding a little awed still. “I…I can’t quite believe it. It doesn’t seem real.”
“Guess it took some divine intervention from another dimension to make it happen.” Dean couldn’t see anything, but he thought he could feel a shift in the air, a hint of a breeze as if Cas were stretching them out.
Dean realized he wished he could see them. Touch them.
Wished he could…
He swallowed the rest of that thought down. He’d been trying to work himself up to saying something, to finally do something about this thing with Cas once the others were gone, but now…
…Now all his confidence and certainty was failing him, as it always seemed to when things came down to the wire. And he reverted to deflection and distraction, even as he immediately regretted the words streaming out of his mouth.
“Well, I imagine you’re itchin’ to give them a test flight, huh? No need to hang around here any longer, since you ain’t grounded.”
Cas’s expression crumbled right before Dean’s eyes. “Do you wish for me to leave?”
“Fuck. No, Cas, ’course not!” Dean backpedaled, cursing himself.
Dammit, why can’t I do this right? Why can’t I just fucking say what I mean, for once?
“I just thought…I thought you’d want to, is all. I mean, bein’ stuck here with me can’t be great. I’m not…”
I’m not like that other Dean. Even if I wish I was.
“Dean?”
Cas was looking at him, all confusion and concern now in those big blue eyes. Dean shook his head and turned away, because it was too hard to meet Cas’s gaze for what he had to say next.
“You know, I read that journal, and all I kept thinkin’ was…about all those other Deans. And other yous, in other universes. And how come we aren’t…d’you think there’s just…something wrong with me?”
“Why on Earth would you say that?”
“Because…I’m not sure I can give you what they all had. I mean, definitely not the baby, though I guess we sort of have Jack like that, but, I mean…I mean the other stuff. The not-just-best-friends stuff.”
Dean dared to glance back at Cas, in time to see some understanding of Dean’s garbled confession dawning on his face. “Would you want that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he answered, almost breathless in admitting it.
“I don’t know. Fear, perhaps? Or the weight of the many ways in which I have failed you in this world?”
Dean shook his head and took a step closer. “Maybe we’ve both failed each other plenty. And maybe…maybe it’s time to stop using all those things from the past as excuses.”
Cas looked so hopeful, for a moment, but Dean saw the moment he put up his own defenses and tried to shut his heart down. He put a hand on Dean’s shoulder and gently said, “You’re tired. You’ve been on the road, on a hunt, all day, and this has been a stressful few days. You should rest.”
“Okay. But not until I do one thing.”
Before Dean could psych himself out of it, he moved in to give Cas a kiss. Not a long one—just a quick, gentle press of their lips together paired with a light touch to his cheek. A kiss like those he’d seen their doubles sharing so often, and it left his fingertips tingling with the feeling of Cas’s skin and the rough stubble there.
Cas was looking at him with wide, startled eyes as Dean pulled away, his tongue darting out to get one last taste of Cas as it lingered on his lips. “Promise me you won’t fly away on me overnight, alright? And then we can…maybe go for a drive or something, try to…to talk about stuff some more. Tomorrow.”
Please.
Dean wasn’t sure if he’d prayed that last plea or not, but Cas’ expression seemed now as full of wonder as when he’d first raised his restored wings. “If you’re asking me to stay…here, with you…then of course I will, Dean.”
“Okay. Good. And yes, I am. Asking. Yes.”
Dean wanted to say more, so much more. But he also wanted to crawl away into his room and hide, to calm down his racing heart, the part of him that was panicking over what he’d just done and said. “So it’s settled. ’Night, Cas.”
“Goodnight, Dean.”
Tomorrow, Dean thought as he hurried away. And as much as his heart was pounding, his head felt lighter. Clearer. Something deep inside him felt warmer and as if it might burst with joy, despite his nerves.
Tomorrow, they’d start trying to figure this all out.
And maybe it wouldn’t be so scary or impossible after all.