Chapter Text
Di sat at a desk in the bunker, awaiting Samantha’s return. Her back ached from crouching over books all morning. She checked her watch and sighed. She hadn’t seen Sammy all morning, and was starting to worry. Her younger sister wasn’t answering her phone.
She stood up from the desk, and walked into the kitchen, searching for some pie. Finding none, she poured herself some coffee. Di took a sip of the hot drink and set it down again, her eyebrows pulled together with worry. Where was Sammy? She pulled her dark blonde hair up into a high ponytail, and then stretched her arms above her head. Her bangs fell out of place, and she straightened them back to their assigned seats.
The bunker door clicked open, and Di let out a breath of relief. Her back still to the door, she began her rant. “Damn it, Sammy. You better have a frappachino with my name on it with you! I am sick and tired of you disappearing without telling me! Besides, I think I have a lead on that trickster.” Di began to turn around. “And did you finish the pie off again? You know I need my pie when I’m on my-” She fell silent and drew her gun from the waistband of her cropped jean shorts. A tall guy with floppy hair stood on the other side of the table pointing his own gun at her.
“Who are you, where is my sister, and how did you get in here?” she demanded, switching the safety off.
“Is that Dean’s gun?” the man asked, ignoring her.
She ignored his question. “What are you? How did you get in here?” Di glared at the stranger.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he said.
This stranger reminded Di of her little sister; freakishly tall, not stupid, same shade of hair, hazel eyes… Di’s eyes narrowed. The resemblance was uncanny. “You got a name?”
“It’s Sam,” the stranger, Sam, said, and his eyebrows pulled together. “Who are you?”
“That’s not important right now. How did you get in here, Sam?” she asked.
Sam held up a key, and dangled it before setting it on the table. “Key. How did you get in here?”
“What are you? What do you want from me?” Di asked, still aiming her gun at his face.
“Nothing; I live here.” he said.
Di scoffed. A human who just magically walked into the bunker was highly unlikely. “No you don’t. I live here.” she glared at him, and pulled a small glass bottle out of her pocket. In it was a milky substance, and hanging from the neck was a silver chain.
“What’s that?” Sam asked, eyeing the mysterious bottle suspiciously.
“It proves you’re human so I don’t have to shoot your ass. Holy water, borax, of course, and salt. Chain’s silver, so it takes care of everything, all at once. But you’re obviously a hunter, so you already know that.” Di explained as she pulled the cork out of the top. She carefully set her gun down on the table, barrel facing Sam, and stepped back. She held the glass bottle above her hand, and poured a small amount of the liquid on it. The solution had no reaction with her skin, and slid down the sides of her fingers, dripping onto the cool wood floor.
Sam watched her with cautious eyes, ready to shoot if there were any surprises. Nothing happened, and Di put the lid back on and tossed the bottle across the table to Sam. He barely caught it, nearly dropping his gun. Sam sniffed the potion, his nose confirming its ingredients. He poured some of the test solution on his hand, and nothing happened.
He set the bottle on the table, and put his gun back in the waistband of his jeans. Di’s gun had already disappeared underneath a book and she was sitting down, with her coffee, watching Sam.
“How did you get in here?” Sam asked, falling into a chair. He handed Di her bottle, and she put the lid back on.
“I woke up in here, because I live here. How the hell did you get a key?” Di put the glass bottle back in the front pocket of her shorts, and pulled out her key. “There’s only one of these,” she said, holding it up.
Sam’s eyes widened in surprise. “I know.” He reached forward, and grabbed the key, comparing it to his own. “These are exactly the same,” he said.
“How is that possible?” Di asked.
“Wait, what’s your name?”
Di nodded. “Deanna Winchester, but I go by Di.”
“Dee?” Sam’s eyebrows shot up. For a moment, it sounded like she said Dean.
“Spelled with an ‘I’.”
“Winchester, huh? Look, I don’t know what you’re playing at, but it’s not exactly likely that I have more family I don’t know about.”
Di nearly choked on her coffee. “You’re a Winchester? What the hell is happening? And why should I trust you?” Di stood up, staring hard at Sam.
“You shouldn’t, but I do live here, and I’m not going anywhere,” he replied, looking at the books spread across the table. He began flipping through the lore, searching for something to explain this. He knew he shouldn’t trust a stranger, but there was something oddly familiar about her and he just couldn’t help it.
“Well, if you don’t recognize me, then you’re not my sister. Which means something is really off here.”
“Tell me about it.” Sam sighed, and set the bags on the kitchen counter.
Di sat back down in the chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Sam, I have a feeling one of us is in the wrong universe,” she said.