Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Erik Kripke, Warner Brothers and quite possibly others who are not mentioned here. Stargate SG1 (for what little there is in here) is the property of MGM and probably several other people and corporations. No money will be made from this fan fiction.
Summary: When Dean goes to sell his soul at the crossroads to bring Sam back, someone else steps in to negotiate the deal. Cas did get a sign and it sent him off into the past to change things. AU from The Man Who Would be King and All Hell Breaks Loose.
It's All in the Details
By Colleen
Chapter 13
The man looked blearily around the darkened bedroom and wondered why he was awake. His wife slept quietly beside him and no noise came from his daughter's room, but there was something...
A rustle of cloth was the only warning he had as a hand was clasped over his mouth. Before he could move against the intruder, a quiet yet rough voice spoke in his ear.
"I would rather not wake your wife and daughter. Do you understand?"
He nodded, carefully.
"Good, get up and head downstairs, I will be one step behind you."
The hand came away from his mouth and something that he quickly identified as his robe was thrown across his lap. Picking it up, he slid out of bed and moved quietly to the door. He didn't bother trying to put the robe on until they were both standing in the hallway.
"What do you want?" He asked, as he fumbled to tie the robe shut.
"Downstairs, we'll talk then."
All the way down the stairs, the man considered and discarded a number of things to say. The first was that the intruder just take whatever it was he wanted and leave, but while the man didn't know what was going on, he suspected that it wasn't a simple matter of robbery.
The second was that whatever this was, it was a mistake. He was not the kind of guy whose lifestyle would lead to being rousted out of bed by mysterious strangers in the middle of the night.
They got to the living room, the man behind him flipping on the lights, when he came up with the one thing that he did use.
"Who are you?"
The intruder brushed past him before he could see his face, going to the window and closing the curtains. The man stared at the other man's back for a moment. An even more absurd question hit him. So absurd that he couldn't help but voice it.
"Why are you wearing my trench coat?"
The man at the window turned and Jimmy Novak backed away, his eyes wide.
In a voice that was lighter than the one he had used earlier, the other man answered.
"Because I'm you, you idiot."
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"Sit." Trench coat wearing Jimmy said, pointing at the couch. "I don't have much time."
Legs shaking, robe wearing Jimmy made his way over to the sofa and more or less fell into it as his muscles gave way.
"Who, how… what?"
"Just listen."
Wrapping the robe around him a little tighter, his arms ending up hugging his body, Jimmy nodded.
"In the next few months, there is a possibility that you will be visited by an angel."
Jimmy's mouth dropped open. Briefly, he wondered if someone had tampered with their evening meal, because the only way any of this made sense was if drugs were involved.
"His name is Castiel." Trench coat wearing Jimmy started to pace. "Eventually, he will ask you to allow him to use your body here on Earth." He stopped and looked at his other self. "If this does happen, you need to say no and you need to tell Claire to say no as well."
"Claire… why?" The Jimmy on the couch felt his mind steady with the mention of a possible threat to his daughter. "Why would he want my child?"
"Because, she's of the same bloodline and would be capable of housing an angel. They need human bodies, vessels, to be able to work here on Earth."
"How… how do you know this?"
Trench coat wearing Jimmy took a deep breath. "Because, I'm the you that said yes." He staggered slightly. "Damn."
"What?"
"He can only suppress himself for a short time."
"Who?"
"Castiel." Jimmy's eyes squeezed shut in pain. "Ah."
Jimmy started to get to his feet, when the other him opened his eyes, pinning Jimmy to the sofa with a look.
"I know that you're feeling like there is a greater purpose in your life and that you're not fulfilling it, but please, trust me when I say, your family, this life, it is that purpose. If you give it up… You'll only learn what a fool you've been after it's too late to do anything about it."
Jimmy watched as the him in a trench coat dropped to one knee and grabbed onto the coffee table to stay balanced.
"Um, me? Jimmy?"
His body, other body, stood up. The move was smooth and far too precise to be human.
"No, I'm sorry."
The voice was now the gravely rasp he had heard in the dark. Jimmy swallowed the sudden lump in his throat.
"Castiel?"
The angel nodded. "Yes."
Jimmy shook his head. "I don't understand."
"I… We, are attempting to alter the events of a disaster, through time travel."
"Which is why there are two of me… sort of."
Cas nodded. "Yes. Given that the changes we have already made may make taking a vessel unnecessary this time around, I have allowed Jimmy to pass on this warning to you. Even if the me of this time does come to you, I believe it would be best if you refused him."
"Wouldn't that wipe out the me/you that came from the future?" Given the pure mind blowingness of that sentence, Jimmy had to consider the possibility that he was dreaming.
"No, you're not dreaming." Cas told him, deftly reading the man's surface thoughts. "And time travel is more complicated than that." He paused for a moment. "It also does not involve Deloreans."
Jimmy blinked. "Ah, okay."
"I hope that this time you get to spend your life with your family and that it will be a long and joyous one."
"Thank…" Jimmy's stared in wonder as the being he had been talking with was suddenly gone, the sound of wings the only thing to mark his passing.
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Dean sat on the small dock and looked out over the lake as it shimmered in the moonlight. Cas had spent much of the day extending the protections on the cabin to the area around it. He suspected that the angel had done it to give him and Sam the chance to come to terms with everything they had learned as well as make some plans for the future. He also suspected that Cas preferred to be somewhere else when those plans sounded more like arguing than constructive plotting.
Still, he couldn't complain about the result. It was nice to be able to sit out here and not feel the air scrape at his last nerve.
"Hello Dean."
The hunter jumped slightly as the angel appeared beside him. He gave his chest a couple of thumps and shook his head before answering. "Cas. Whatcha been up too?"
Castiel tilted his head slightly in thought. "I had to see a man about a Delorean."
Dean's expression was somewhat disbelieving, but he let the answer pass, mostly. "Well, I hope you didn't buy it. They're cool cars in theory, but they don't live up to the hype in practice."
"No, I did not buy it. I didn't see the point."
Dean laughed. "Yeah, it's not something you guys probably need." He looked out at the water. "Hey, just out of curiosity. Did you actually buy this place?"
Cas glanced back at the cabin and then out at the lake. "Yes. I have other such places in different areas of the world, although in those I am… I believe the term is…squatting? "
Dean nodded.
"Due to the strange effect in this area, I thought to make a more permanent base here. The price was very affordable, although that was probably because the cabin was one more broken window away from condemnable."
"Dean frowned. "Where did you get the money?"
"I found it."
In the still air of the night, the creak of a wooden board being stepped on carried across the water. The angel and the hunter looked to the other side of the lake. In the moonlight, they could make out the form of a man standing on a small dock. By his height and stance, Dean suspected that it was Cas' neighbour, Jack.
The man waved at them and Dean stood and returned the gesture.
"We should head inside." Cas said from behind him.
Dean nodded and with one more wave, he turned and walked back to the cabin with the angel. When they got to the door, he briefly glanced back towards the lake.
"You might want to keep an eye on your neighbour when you're here. Dean said before going in.
Cas nodded, but didn't say anything. He had already come to that conclusion himself.
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Zachariah felt something strange scratching at the edges of his concentration. It took him a while to identify it as anxiety, mixed with equal amounts of frustration and anger.
"It is possible to re-forge the last seal, however it will need to be tied to something or someone as strong as Lilith was or it won't take." One of his underlings reported. At the moment, Zachariah couldn't remember the other angel's name and to be honest, probably wouldn't bother to find out. "Our associates report that the first seal is still intact. Unfortunately, they still don't know just where in Hell the righteous man's soul ended up. Apparently his deal didn't go through normal channels."
"So they don't even know if he's down there?"
The angel shrugged. "Where else could he be? He sold his soul and hellhounds were involved in the collection. He's there and he will be found. To that end, the siege is… mostly going as planned. The focus is still on storming the Pit. As far as the rank and file know, that's where the righteous man is."
"Good. What about the other matter?"
"Ah, the team has made a search for the Winchester's parents as well as Samuel Winchester's girlfriend. Our associates report that none of them are currently in Hell… and we have not been able to locate them in Heaven."
Zachariah glared at him. "They've got to be somewhere."
"Yes, but we believe that they may be in protective lockdown. Possibly initiated by either Joshua, or Michael."
Zach grimaced. "Ah, alright then. Put that aside for now." Using one of them to influence Sam to train up his powers had been a long shot anyway. They'd just have to let their associates handle that one.
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"So, we thought we'd go check on this Adam kid." Dean shrugged. "At the very least we should let him and his mom know that Dad is dead."
Morning sunlight was once again filtering its way into the cabin. Dean and Sam sat at the kitchen island, downing cereal, toast, orange juice and coffee. Cas sat there with them, but didn't bother to eat.
"It sounds like a good plan." Cas hadn't originally met the young man until after the other angels had brought him back. As he recalled, the Winchesters hadn't found out about him until shortly after they had met …
"Chuck." The angel said, his eyes wide.
"Excuse me?" Dean said, not sure he'd heard correctly.
"Heaven doesn't know where your soul ended up, but they should. All they would have to do is check with Chuck."
"Okay… are you sure you're feeling alright?"
"No, I don't believe I am." He looked at both of the brothers. "Stay here, I have to track something down."
Before they could blink, he was gone.
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Three states and seven bookstores later, Cas returned. He dropped the bags of books he was carrying on the leather ottoman in the main room. Opening one of the bags, he tossed each of the brothers a paperback book.
"Adding to your library, Cas?" Dean frowned at the cover. Two buff men sat on the hood of a car, looking up at the title of the book, which was superimposed over a night's sky. "Supernatural?"
"Eventually they will be known as the Winchester Gospels."
Dean nearly dropped the book. "What?"
Cas continued, ignoring Dean's question. "The writer, Chuck Shurley, he is a prophet of the Lord."
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me."
Cas just looked at him.
"Hey, after all that pagan god stuff, you're more than capable of running a practical joke."
Cas shook his head. "I have never understood what is so practical about them. Still, that is not important." He held up one of the books. "These books follow your lives from the time Sam and you started hunting together again, up until the demon siege in Monument.
According to the note at the end of that book, the one involving Lilith and…hellhounds, doesn't come out until July. The problem is… I looked them over on the way back and the volumes that cover the last year are still about what originally happened and not what has happened."
Sam flipped the book he was holding over so he could read the back of it. "The Mystery Spot. Sam and Dean are trapped in a small town were everyday is Tuesday and every day Dean dies. Only Sam is the only one who knows it." Looking like he'd been gut punched, the younger Winchester turned to the first page and started reading.
Dean was quietly reading the back of his own book and not looking much happier with it than Sam had. "So, what are we supposed to do about this? Go scare the guy into not writing anymore?
"No. That would be a bad idea. As a prophet, he is protected by an archangel. If any of us went to see him, they would no doubt learn what had happened in short order. We need to find out why Chuck is still seeing the original path and what he knows of the future, but without actually going ourselves."
It only took a moment of thought for all three of them.
"Bobby."
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Carver Edlund aka Chuck Shurley, agreed to meet him at a coffee shop not far from the writer's home. The author was a nervous man and Bobby got the feeling that he'd never been interviewed all that much.
"Um, Mr. Perry?"
Bobby stood up from the table he was at and held out his hand. "Call me Robert." He said as they shook. "You must be Carver Edlund."
Chuck nodded and both men took seats.
"First off, thank you for meeting with me."
Chuck shook his head. "The pleasure's all mine. It's not everyday that a magazine like Locus asks me for an interview."
A waitress stopped at the table and they each ordered a coffee. They waited until they arrived at their table before beginning the interview.
"So, you probably get this one a lot." Bobby started. "But, where did you get the idea for your series, Supernatural?"
"Well, to be honest… it kinda just came to me. One day I was just sitting there, not doing much when blam, I get hit with one of the worst migraines I've ever had. Once I shook it off, the idea for the first book was just there. The characters, the plot, the settings. It came close to writing itself. It got a little harder after that, sometimes because I've had so many ideas to use, but not all of them really work in novel form." Chuck laughed lightly. "Sometimes, I've thought the whole thing would really have worked better as a TV series, if, you know, I could actually have gotten anyone to buy it."
Bobby managed to not to shudder at the idea of the boy's lives broadcast for all to see. He continued the interview, going through the standard list of questions that most articles seem to follow, before circling back to what they really needed to know.
"So, I know things change during rewrites, but have you ever written something so opposite to the original version that it was almost a different story."
Chuck laughed. "Actually, yes. In fact, there are several parts of the series that have a second set of scenes that I've come to call the Alternate Reality version. I started writing them when I found a character was being very annoying. Suddenly I just dropped this super powered…guy into it and let him zap her." He shrugged. "It was therapeutic. So now, I have a bunch of scenes involving this guy, but I can't really use them because he has no background. Although, I'm thinking I might modify him and use him in the next book. I'll just have to see how that goes."
"Uh, huh. I'd be curious to see some of those scenes. Maybe talk about them in the article. You know, about how many different paths can be taken to writing about the same thing."
"Well. Ah, what the hell. Give me your e-mail address, I'll send you a few. Only, if you're going to quote from them, I'd prefer it if you cleared it with me first."
"No problem. I know the next book is coming out in July, but what's to happen in the one after that?"
Chuck signalled the waitress for another cup while he seemed to mull the question over. "To be honest, I'm not really sure. Right now, all I know is that Dean is somewhere not nice. Well, that or he's on vacation in Colorado, but I don't think that version would fly with my publisher."
Bobby wrapped up the interview after that, handing Chuck a fake business card with a temporarily real e-mail address. Chuck stayed to finish his second cup of coffee. If Bobby had looked behind him as he left, he would have seen the strangest smile on the author's face.
It was sad, but hopeful, and more than a little knowing.