Chapter Text
The demon had the portal open by the time the Winchesters broke the door down. The old school’s concrete wall, brittle with age and leaking rusty water, was shimmering, half real, half dream. The demon looked ecstatic, her blonde head thrown back, chanting the invocation with her arms wide to welcome whatever she was expecting. And something was responding to the invitation. Even as Dean and Sam leapt into action a scaly arm was pushing its way into their reality. As Dean attacked he wondered why it was always freaky monsters that came through inter-dimensional portals. Where were the dimensions filled with hot yoga instructors?
Her spell finished, the demon turned to Sam and Dean as they closed in. She gestured with her hand and Sam was thrown, his back slamming painfully into the crumbling wall. Dean, his knife at the ready, barreled ahead, but with a flick of her wrist he was tossed into a pile of broken desks. Dean’s creative swearing could be heard, quickly drowned out by Sam shouting an exorcism.
Distracted by the Latin, the demon broke her telekinetic hold on Dean. In a flash the hunter leapt, knife first. It was over in moments, the demon’s eyes turning to fire as she burned within her dying vessel. Dean let the body drop to the floor and hurried to help his brother.
“You okay?” Dean frisked Sam for injuries despite the blood welling up on his own arm from the broken desks.
“Peachy.” Sam stretched his back, winced, and then stared in horror over Dean’s shoulder. “The portal isn’t closing!” Sam pulled a silver gun from his waistband and aimed it at the creature pushing its way through.
“Don’t you think I can friggin’ see that?” Dean sized up the claws on the monster’s spindly arms and shouted up the stairs. “A little help in here, Cas?”
Castiel strolled into the room carrying a heavy duffel in one hand and brushing gore from his overcoat with the other. “The demons guarding the school are dead. One of them exploded when I touched him. I have no idea why. It made quite a mess.”
“Looks like we’ve got a mess of our own.” Sam emptied a clip into the monster but the bullets did little apart from annoying it. The creature let out a squeal and turned bulging white eyes toward Sam, flexing its jaw to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth. Whatever it was, it was definitely a meat-eater.
Dean ran forward, gun firing and stabbed it with the demon-killing knife once he was within range. Sam was right; this was a mess. Bullets were useless. The knife, at least, had some effect, and the creature began to bleed and thrash. He stabbed like his life depended on it, but he could do the math. It wasn’t going to be enough.
Castiel opened the duffel bag, threw Sam a machete, and then poured salt across the doorway. He dropped the duffel at the foot of the stairs, shook a can of spray paint, and started marking a devil’s trap onto the floor.
As Sam attacked with the long blade Dean shouted for the shotgun. Cas paused to toss him the weapon. Dean unloaded both barrels onto the monster and felt his guts churn when the rock salt was ineffective. They retreated as the creature squirmed into their world, additional arms emerging from the void, reaching for them.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Dean swore like a prayer and shuffled franticly through the weapons, pulling out a canteen of holy water and splashing the creature in its toothy face. The water failed to burn.
Sam made eye contact and Dean understood exactly what his brother was thinking. They were screwed. If the rock salt didn’t work then the salt line was probably a bust too. And if the holy water had no effect, would the devil’s trap even hold it? The brothers stood their ground at the foot of the stairs. They could not allow this thing to leave the basement.
“Cas!” Dean shouted, his breathing heavy now. “Get upstairs and barricade the door, you hear me?”
“I’ve got some gasoline upstairs,” Castiel said, examining the creature dispassionately. “I’ll prepare fire bombs. But I am certainly not barricading you in with it.”
“Jesus Christ, Cas, could you just do what I—” His complaint died as Dean realized the angel had left the room. For someone who’d spent billions of years as a soldier, Cas sucked at taking orders.
The creature turned, hissing at where its bulbous abdomen filled the portal. It seemed distressed by something happening at its back end. Suddenly it began to thrash and its attempts to enter the dingy basement took on the nature of an escape from its own world, rather than a birth into theirs. Dean took the opportunity to attack with the only weapon that had shown any impact, his knife. Sam did likewise with the machete, managing to cut off two of the flailing arms.
And then the creature was in, and scrambling for cover. Dean didn’t need a degree in alien biology to understand that it was afraid. He took a fighting stance and waited, although no part of him wanted to see whatever monster could scare that thing.
Suddenly a familiar shape emerged through the portal swinging a bronze battleaxe. With a solid thunk the axe landed in the creature’s skull, splitting it open. It thrashed wildly, spraying fragments of blood, bone, and brain before it stilled. Dean’s jaw dropped as he watched the newcomer hack at a spiny protrusion on the monster’s abdomen. Behind him, the portal stopped shimmering and took on the appearance of grey Jell-O.
Sam gripped the machete and his voice was tight. “Uh, Dean?”
“Gimme a minute, would ya?” The newcomer grunted as he pulled the spiny limb free from the creature’s body and tossed it aside before looking up, his eyes going wide. “Sam?” His head turned to look over his shoulder at the gelatinous wall and then back at Sam. His tone communicated confusion, fear, and the same fierce protectiveness Sam was used to hearing in his brother’s voice. Yet here it was, coming out of a Dean Winchester look-alike that had emerged from the same portal as the nightmare now dead at his feet.
Still gripping the knife, Dean stepped forward and made eye contact with his double. Tense seconds ticked by as the men sized one another up, their green eyes boring into one another. Finally, the newcomer broke eye contact to glance back at the portal.
“Well I’ll be damned. Sam was right. Friggin’ inter-dimensional portal.” He let out a sigh of resignation and turned to Dean again. “So what are you, like my evil double?” His hand tensed on the battleaxe.
Dean raised a palm, but held the knife firmly in his other hand. “I was about to ask you the same thing.” He nudged the carcass on the floor with a boot. “But seein’ you kill one of those sons of bitches, I’m guessing you’re on our side.” Warily, he held out a hand to the stranger with his face. “Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you.”
The other man shook the offered hand in a firm grip. “Likewise. On both accounts.”
“This is freaky.” Sam approached the newcomer without fear, looking for differences between the brother he knew and the man before them.
Dean looked too. Their bodies were alike, muscles built through strenuous work. His double wore canvas pants and a soft-looking flannel under a leather jacket. One look at the grain of the leather told Dean that it hadn’t come from any creature he recognized. The man from the portal had a lot more scars, including one that cut through his upper and lower lip, six months old at a guess. Dean was pleased to find differences. It made him feel less like he was facing a shapeshifter or an Invasion of the Body Snatchers situation.
Dean glanced down at the broken form on the floor. “What the hell is this thing? Salt didn’t hurt it. Holy water didn’t hurt it. I was starting to worry it was indestructible.”
“Nah.” The newcomer shrugged. “Geloids aren’t evil. They’re just animals. Scary as fuck, but nothing special. You guys got grizzly bears here?”
“Yeah.”
The second Dean nodded. “They’re ‘bout as dangerous as a grizzly.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the spiny limb he’d severed earlier. “But they reproduce like crazy once you kill ‘em, unless you pull off the egg chute.”
“Well. That’s friggin’ gross.” Dean wiped his knife on a moldering stack of gym mats and sheathed it.
“You think that’s gross, you should see them laying eggs.” The double looked around at the dirty room. “Where the hell are we, anyway?”
“Derelict schoolhouse on the edge of Casper, Wyoming,” Dean supplied.
“Planet Earth,” Sam added. Both Deans gave him the same incredulous look and he crossed his arms defensively. “What? I don’t know what they call their planet in his dimension.”
The door at the top of the stairs opened and Castiel walked in. “The firebombs are ready if you…oh.” He looked at the carcass on the floor. “I guess you won’t be needing them. Unless….” He looked toward the portal and saw the two Deans standing there. “Interesting.” His head tilted in curiosity.
“Cas?” The second Dean’s eyes locked on the angel. As Castiel stepped onto the gritty concrete floor the man bolted forward and gripped the angel in a crushing hug.
“Cas! Fuck. I thought...it’s been so fu--" The rest of his words were lost as he buried his face in the angel’s collar, oblivious to the gore staining it. Castiel stiffened in the embrace and looked at Sam and Dean with wide eyes.
Dean cleared his throat. “This is Castiel, Angel of Thursday.” He narrowed his eyes as the hug continued unabated. “But you already know that, don’t you?”
Hearing his words, the second Dean stepped back. He was smiling but his eyes were wet and he wiped his face with a corner of his flannel shirt.
“Yeah.” He looked at Castiel with shock and wonder. “Right. You’re the Cas in this world.” He put out a hand. “Uh. Nice to meet you.” The words sounded strangled and Dean noted that the handshake lasted twice as long as the one the double had given him.
Castiel ran his tongue over his lips and swallowed. “You came through the portal. With the…” He looked at the carcass and then at the Dean before him, staring in astonishment.
“Geloid. Yeah. I’d been clearing out a nest with Sam. Next thing I know I’m riding the sonofabitch through a portal into Bizarroworld. No offense, guys.” He smiled at the angel. “God it’s good to see you. You look good.”
Dean cleared his throat loudly. “Can we focus on the portal?”
“Right.” Sam went to inspect the wall.
“Don’t get too close,” Dean warned his brother, extending an arm as if to pull him back.
Sam waved a hand in annoyance. He turned to Castiel. “It doesn’t look fully closed.” He picked up a chunk of broken desk and tossed it toward the portal. It caught in the gelatinous matter and then burst into flame, cinders falling to the floor.
“Whoa.” Sam looked at his brother’s double, his mouth twisted in sympathy. “That doesn’t bode well for getting you home.”
“The spell only opened a one-way portal,” Castiel explained. “It’s dormant, but not closed.”
"Think we can all see that,” Dean said petulantly. “Try bein’ less useless and tell us something we don’t know.”
“Hey!” The second Dean moved in front of the angel. “You talk to him like that again and I’ll break that pretty nose of yours.”
Dean looked at the stranger, trying to decide if he wanted to laugh or take a swing at him. Possibly both.
“It’s okay,” Castiel said, putting a hand on his would-be protector’s arm. “Don’t take what he says too seriously.”
“Friendly fella.” Dean groused and began to collect their weapons and pack them back into the duffel. “I say we burn that ugly thing,” he pointed to the body, “then leave here, lock up behind us, and hit the books.”
Sam pulled out his phone and began snapping pictures, focusing on anything that might have been part of the demon’s spell. “We can’t leave it like this,” he said, gesturing to the portal. “Anything could come through.”
“Doubt that.” The second Dean sat on the stairs and hung his head. “If it was still active on our side Sam would’ve tried to get me back by now. Sent a message through. Something.”
“So it’s a good news-bad news situation.” Dean slapped a hand on his double’s shoulder and quickly removed it when he saw the glare directed at him. Apparently Bizarro-Dean was kind of a pissy bitch. “Don’t worry, man. We’ll get you home.”
Castiel touched the same shoulder. “We’ll do everything in our power to return you safely to your world. I promise.”
The double ran his fingers across Castiel’s. “I know you will, Cas. Thanks.”
“Gimmie a hand with this?” Dean grabbed one end of the geloid and gestured to the other end. His double grabbed and hefted, and together they lugged the body up the stairs, down a hall, and out to a deserted and weed-chocked yard. Castiel followed close behind.
Dean passed his phone to the angel. “Cas, can you get a shot of the two of us with this thing?” He hefted the body up, allowing it to dangle like a prized marlin, while Castiel captured the image. “Cool. Thanks.” He took the phone back. “This is going in the Winchester journal.”
“Technically,” his double said, “it was my kill, not yours.”
“I woulda killed it if you hadn’t shown up.” Dean smirked. “Head-splitting was next on my list.”
The three of them spent an enjoyable five minutes lobbing the angel’s gasoline bombs at the body until it was burned beyond recognition, then returned to the school basement.
Coming down the stairs, Dean shouted to his brother. “Let’s pack it up, Sammy!”
“Yeah. Yeah. Gimmie a minute.” Sam was searching through the pockets of the dead demon. He pulled out a wallet, keys, and a handful of what looked like human teeth.
“Looking for change?” his brother taunted. There was a burger and a beer with his name on them out there somewhere and he intended to find them, and soon.
Sam sighed. “Looking for anything that might give us a lead on the spell she used to open the portal.” He slipped the wallet and keys into his jacket and grimaced as he put the teeth into a bag.
Dean shrugged. “Fair enough.”
“If I may, Sam?” Castiel approached the demon and Sam stepped back. Castiel leaned in close to the body, took a few sniffs, then grabbed the neck of her shirt and tore it open, exposing markings on her chest in dried blood. “These look important. We should record them.”
“On it.” Sam snapped photos and then gently removed the shirt to check her back for markings as well.
“You done, or are we gonna have to get the two of you a room?” Dean asked.
Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m done.” He left the body. “I’ll go outside where the signal’s better and send these photos to my cloud.” He moved past both Deans and bounded up the stairs.
The newcomer nodded toward the demon. “What do you do with her?”
“Normally we’d burn it,” Dean said, “but we might need the body, or part of it, to reverse the ritual. Our best bet is to cover her with that tarp over there and lock up behind us.”
“Alright.” The double stood, grabbed the tarp, and approached the body. Castiel helped him spread the tarp on the floor. “I saw we wrap her up like a burrito. You got those here?”
“Yes.” Castiel shifted the body onto the tarp, “Dean and Sam bought me burritos at a restaurant in El Paso. I liked them very much.” He frowned. Food hadn’t been the same since getting his grace back.
“Me too.” Dean began to roll the body in the tarp. “Sam and I have a place in New Sonora we like.” He looked up and for a moment his eyes met the angel’s and lingered. “Used to go there with you too.”
Dean winced. His arm was killing him, but the closest thing they had to a medic was giving restaurant recommendations like some kind of Anthony Bourdain knock-off. He frowned at the bulky package his double was leaning against the wall.
“Once decomp sets in that tarp won’t do much to hide the fact it’s a body in there.”
Castiel shrugged. “Let’s hope we can burn it before it draws attention.”
The double smiled at him. “You bring the firebombs, I’ll bring the marshmallows.”
Dean felt a churn in his guts that he told himself was just hunger.
The door opened and Sam came down the stairs and stood on the lower stringer, towering over all of them. “You guys ready?”
“Just about.” Dean’s arm throbbed.
“What happens now?” his double asked, brushing the dust and grime from his hands.
“Now we go back to the motel and try to piece together the spell she used to open the portal in the first place,” Sam explained.
Dean turned on the double, eyes narrowed. “Let’s get somethin’ straight,” he said. “You’re stuck here, but you’re not a guest. You gotta pull your weight.”
The second Dean laughed. “You mean besides killing the geloid that was kicking your ass and would’ve laid eggs in your dead bodies?”
“I mean research. You can read, right?”
“Oh, I read real good.” The newest Winchester wasn’t intimidated, and Dean wasn’t sure if he should be pissed or proud. “Besides,” the double added, “I’m not exactly chuffed about being stuck in some shithole dimension with the asshole version of me.”
Okay then. Pissed it is.
“Well I’m not exactly thrilled to be babysitting a bitchy imitation,” Dean said.
“Guys,” Sam said, his tone pleading with them not to bicker.
“He’s not an imitation,” Castiel supplied, looking at both Deans as if comparing their souls, which, given the curious glint in his eye, he probably was. “He is you. A version of you.” He turned his attention on the second Dean. “There are a differences, of course. But those are experiential, not ontological.”
“I figured that from the scars.” Dean looked at his double with reluctant sympathy. “You’ve been through the wringer, man.”
“Yeah. I’ve been in the shit.” The double reached out and grabbed Dean’s jaw, tilting his face into the light. “But you look fresh as a baby’s ass.”
Dean stepped back. “Perk of having an angel on the team. Which reminds me.” He pulled his arm stiffly out of his flannel shirt. “Cas, if you would?” He revealed a gash in his bicep where the metal from the broken desks had pierced him. It looked as bad as it felt.
“Jesus, Dean!” Sam winced at the injury. “No wonder you’re biting everyone’s head off. That must hurt like hell.”
“It doesn’t tickle.”
Castiel reached out and healed it with a touch.
“Thanks.” Dean flexed his bicep approvingly and pulled the bloody shirt back on.
“My pleasure,” Castiel mumbled, circling around to take in the newcomer again. Dean felt a pang he told himself was definitely not jealousy. It was only natural that everyone would be interested in him. He was new and shiny. And if he was honest about it, Dean was kind of interested in him too. It wasn’t everyday he got to see an alternate version of himself. This guy had killed creatures he’d never even seen before. He might learn something.
“If you recognize Cas, how come you’ve got the,” Dean touched his own lip where his double’s scar cut through.
His double looked away. “My Cas is dead.”
Dean felt a stab of sympathy. “That bites, man. I’m sorry.” His face brightened. “Listen, don’t worry too hard yet. Our Cas died twice already. Didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Castiel said, his eyes riveted on the double. “Each time I was resurrected.”
“I’m happy for you.” The other Dean’s face was deadpan. “But I guess the God in our dimension is more of an asshole. Cause my Cas never came back.”
“How long has it been?” Sam asked, his face all concern.
“Six months.” He touched his lip. “As long as I’ve had this.”
The four of them stood in awkward silence. Finally Dean spoke. “Well first off, we’ll figure out how to close the portal temporarily so no more Gila monsters come through.”
“Geloids,” his double corrected.
“Whatever. Then we’ll figure out how to get you back. There’s gotta be some way to alter the spell. Make the inter-dimensional door swing both ways or something.”
Sam laughed.
Dean shifted to face him “What’s so damn funny?”
Sam didn’t bother hiding his amusement. “You said ‘swing both ways.’”
Dean rolled his eye, picked up the duffel and tossed it to the other Dean. “Follow me.” He brushed past Sam and led the way upstairs. “Sam’s got shotgun. You and Cas sit in the back.” His double didn’t argue.