Chapter Text
Everything was white, Dean felt as though he was being engulfed in flames. Suddenly he collided with the floor. Dean’s head spun and his ears rang. As quickly as he could manage, he was on his feet, facing the glowing rift just a short distance away. Too late Dean realized that the portal, his way home, was getting smaller. He dove for it, fingertips just brushing the fading remnants of it before he went crashing to the ground once more. By the time he looked up again, nothing remained of the rift. Dean didn’t know where he was, and now he certainly didn’t know how to get back. He was trapped.
Dean rose from the floor slowly, this time taking in his surroundings. He was in a large room, one of the walls seemed to be made entirely of windows from floor to ceiling. One of the windows was shattered and just beyond it there was a large outdoor space. Though there was a lot to look at inside the room, it was the outside that caught his attention. Through the window, he could see the New York City skyline.
“What the…” He muttered taking in the view. He’d only ever seen it on TV and in movies. He didn’t know how, but he just knew it was New York. He’d expected it to be a little less… destroyed.
He managed to tear his gaze from the skyline and started to take in the rest of the room. There was an entire bar to his right, with a staircase behind it. He approached the bar, moving behind the counter. The shelf behind the bar was full of expensive-looking bottles of liquor that seemed relatively unscathed compared to the rest of the destruction in the room. Dean turned towards the stairs, placing a foot on the bottom step. A man’s voice rang out, seemingly from all directions.
“I would advise against using the staircase, as it is currently unstable.”
Dean looked quickly around the room, attempting to locate the source of the voice. He realized, for the first time, that he was entirely unarmed while trespassing in what may be a different universe. He stepped back towards the bar, grabbing the first bottle he could reach. He held it like a club, close to his side and ready for an attack. Dean moved slowly out from behind the bar, and towards the center of the room.
“Why don’t you come on out and show yourself?” Dean said. His voice was gruff as he spoke.
“I am afraid that I cannot ‘show myself’ sir. Though I have alerted Mr. Stark to your presence and he will be with you shortly,” The voice was posh, clear, and modulated.
Dean opened his mouth to press further when a chiming sound rang from the far side of the room. He noticed the elevator for the first time. Dean momentarily considered crouching behind the bar in an attempt to hide, or even just fleeing, but it was too late for any kind of decision as the doors slid open. A man stepped out, dressed in a full suit and holding a tablet of some kind. Dean gripped the neck of the bottle a bit tighter, keeping it at the ready. The man was short with dark hair and a hippie-looking goatee. The man looked surprised yet somehow unphased by Dean’s presence. The stranger looked him up and down, eyes pausing on the bottle. The man looked up, past Dean, to the bar. He winced.
“There’s a whole shelf full of liquor, yet you manage to grab the most expensive whiskey I own. If you’re here to steal stuff there are far more valuable things in this room,” The man stepped closer towards Dean, who bristled slightly, moving the bottle into a better attack position. The man continued.
“Look, I don’t really care who you are, or what happens to you when you leave here. What I do care about is how you managed to get through seventeen security officers, two hundred and fifty-five security cameras, and thirteen locked doors, just to use my seventy-two-year-old single-malt as a club.”
Dean did not respond right away, instead looking the man up and down, trying to get some kind of read on him.
“Who the hell are you?” Dean asked, bluntly.
The man seemed taken aback, almost offended, by this question.
“Who am I? You’re standing in my building that you broke into, and you don’t even know who I am? Honestly, the rock you’re living under is quite impressive. Tony Stark? Iron Man? Not ringing any bells?”
“Iron Man?” Dean repeated, with a scoff.
Tony sighed.
“Seriously? I’ve been doing press conferences for about five days straight since the invasion. Where the hell have you been?” Tony Stark pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know what? I don’t even care, I just want to know how you got in here.”
Dean stared at the man, Tony, trying to think of something to say to avoid getting locked up. Judging by the skyline, they were in some kind of tower. Dean’s mind was drawing a blank. So naturally, Dean said the first thing that popped into his head.
“I took the stairs,” Dean winced as soon as the words left his mouth. It was so obviously a lie, but he was having a hard time thinking, considering he was trapped in another universe.
Tony pinched his mouth into a straight line. He didn’t say anything for a moment, before shaking his head and rolling his eyes slightly.
“Alright then, let’s pretend that’s true for just a minute. Let’s say you actually did slip past the security, locks, and cameras. Then why? What did you come here for?” Tony held out his arms, motioning around the room.
“Money,” Another impulse response, Dean wanted to punch himself. At this rate he’d be in prison within the hour.
At this Tony dragged his palms down his face, exasperated. He began walking towards Dean. Dean started to back away, trying to think of how he’d get himself out of this situation. Instead, Tony just strolled right past him, towards the bar. Dean turned to look at him. Tony grabbed two crystal glasses and a bottle of whiskey.
“Look, we’ve all had a rough week, I’m sure. I don’t want to hand you over to the proper authorities just yet. I want the truth,” He held out the bottle of whiskey to Dean. “Trade?”
Dean hesitated a moment before giving in, and approaching the bar. He stood in front of it, thinking for a moment, before setting down his “club” and sitting on one of the chairs. If what this man was saying about his security was true, then he could’ve gotten rid of Dean almost immediately, but he didn’t. That was enough to placate Dean for a moment, not that he really had a choice. Tony spoke once more as he poured the glasses.
“Hey, if the past week has been any indicator, I’ve seen and heard some crazy shit in my day, so however you got up here probably isn’t the weirdest thing to happen in this building, especially in the past five days.”
Dean nearly scoffed at Tony’s words. Yeah, he thought, you may have seen some crazy shit, but I doubt it’s quite ‘Lucifer’s son created a multiversal portal’ crazy. Dean weighed his options as he took a long swig. It was some damn good whiskey. He lowered it momentarily, before raising it again for another sip. Dean considered for another, long moment. It seemed that any way Dean decided to play this he’d end up somewhere less than desirable. Option 1: lie and go to prison for God knows how long. Option 2: Tell the truth and get sent to the nearest nuthouse. At least nuthouses have pudding.
“Lucifer’s son created a multiversal portal.” Dean spoke abruptly, looking Tony dead in the eyes and taking yet another drink.
Tony stared for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally he spoke.
“Let’s just pretend for a moment that that is a completely sane thing to happen,” Tony started. Dean scoffed, nuthouse it is. “Why was your-what was it? Portal?-aiming for my building?”
“It wasn’t, we were trying to save my once-dead mom from an apocalyptic universe, trust me this was not the plan,” Dean stated, chuckling lightly. Dean had no explanation for why he decided to run his mouth like this. Probably the shock. Dean took another deep swig from his nearly empty glass.
Tony frowned, but it wasn’t angry, rather… thoughtful.
“Ok, and how do you get back to the right universe?” Tony asked, before finishing off his own glass.
He seemed to be taking Dean seriously, which was more than a little shocking.
“I don’t know,” It was almost a whisper. He thought of Sam, Cas, Jack, and Mom. He didn’t know how to get home. It was all starting to crash down on him. Dean swallowed thickly, shaking it off. He continued with disbelief in his voice, “Do you actually believe me?”
“Are you lying?”
“I wish I was.”
There was silence, neither man wanted to speak. Both were attempting to comprehend their current situations. Dean wondering if he’d ever see his family again, and Tony grappling with this strange man in front of him. Dean was pulled from his thoughts when Tony spoke again.
“There’s a gap in the security camera footage of about five seconds, and then suddenly you’re there. You asked if I believe you, and I’m afraid that I have no choice. The devil's son tossing you up here somehow seems far more likely than you breaching all of my security or scaling the outside wall within five seconds.” Tony pulled out the same tablet from earlier, and set it up so that Dean could see.
The screen showed a grayscale, empty version of the room they were sitting in. Seemingly out of nowhere, Dean appeared on the screen. He was sprawled out on the floor for a moment before getting up quickly. The same clip of footage played over again. This time Dean looked at the timestamp. Sure enough it jumped from 14:34:06 to 14:34:11, and there he was on the floor once again. Dean could see Tony watching him closely. Finally Dean looked back to Tony after the fifth or sixth time the clip had played.
“So yeah, I have no choice but to believe you. And there’s something about you that seems… sincere, so either you’re batshit crazy and believe your own stories, or I am way worse at reading people than I should be. Or it’s actually the truth.” Tony said.
There was yet another long pause.
“Mr. Stark, Ms. Potts is firmly inquiring as to your whereabouts. She also wishes to remind you that your press conference regarding the Stark Industries donation started two minutes ago.” The same modulated voice as before sounded throughout the room.
“Tell her that I’ll be down in five. Also tell her that Cap can cover for now, and that if I were on time it would ruin my reputation. Actually cut that last part.” Tony responded.
“Alright, sir.”
Tony turned back to Dean.
“Listen, I don’t really have time for this right now. So, either I get you a sharp-looking suit and you can hang out at a press conference until we get a chance to talk again, or you can stay here until the police arrive, and I can talk to you in jail.”
Dean weighed his options. A press conference would be a hell of a lot easier to slip away from.
“I’ll take the suit.”
“JARVIS, we got a suit for him?” Tony asked.
“He appears to be about the same size as Mr. Rogers.” The voice, JARVIS, responded.
“Alright, time to raid Capsicle’s closet. Lucky we just bought him a whole new wardrobe,” Tony came out from behind the bar and headed towards the elevator. “C’mon. Pep’s gonna kill me if this takes any longer.”
Dean silently followed Tony towards the elevator, entirely unsure of what the future held, entirely unsure if he’d ever see his family again.