Change my World

Chapter 1

It's fairly safe to say that Dean Winchester is not a man who is easily surprised. He has been dealing with every kind of possible and impossible shit since he was four years old. He's been to hell and back. He's been a lynchpin in an apocalyptic battle between angels and demons. Hell, he's even been to a Motorhead concert where Lemmy decided to do an impromptu acoustic set. There isn't much left that can shock him.

Still, when Dean wakes up in the same motel room he went to sleep in last night, and looks over and sees a strange girl sleeping in the bed where Sam should be, he's a little mystified to say the least. He's fairly sure that his brother didn't get lucky last night. After all, they've only just got back from Ellen and Jo's funeral; neither of them was exactly in the mood for partying. They'd pretty much just crashed as soon as they got in, too tired and miserable to do more than exchange a couple of words. Had Sammy gone out after Dean had fallen asleep? It wouldn't be the first time. But if he had, then he and this girl had been doing… God knows what in the same room that Dean was sleeping in. And that was just all kinds of wrong.

He gets out of bed and reaches over to where he left his backpack, thinking that it would be a good idea if he pulled on some jeans. Except… that's not his backpack. Dean experiences a mild sensation of panic. This is exactly the kind of thing he did not want to have to deal with right now. There's nothing for it – he's going to have to wake up the mystery woman and see if she can shed any light on what's going on. This is going to be awkward.

Dean clears his throat. The strange girl sighs and turns over. She looks kind of familiar, now Dean comes to think of it. Maybe they have met before, though he really couldn't place where. Not that that's anything new when it comes to women.

"Um… excuse me?" Dean says gruffly, painfully aware that he's standing there in his boxers and an old Metallica t-shirt. "Hello?"

Finally, the girl opens her eyes and stares blearily up at him, a slight frown puckering her brow. She sits up and glances over to the bed Dean has just left, then back up at him.

Dean clears his throat again, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, sorry to wake you, but I was wondering if you knew where—"

Dean doesn't get any further because at this point, the girl reaches under her pillow and pulls a gun on him. Sam's gun. "Who are you?" she demands. "And what the hell have you done with my sister?"

"Woah!" Dean backs up a little, raising his hands. "Look, take it easy, okay? I just want to know where—"

"Where is she?"

"What? Listen, lady, I have no idea what you're talking about. You're the one who's appeared in my motel room overnight, okay?"

"Excuse me? I think you'll find that this is our room. See, that's Deanne's backpack, that's her knife, those are the jeans she was wearing last night. Now, I'm going to ask you one last time. Where. Is. My sister?"

"Look, just… slow down, okay? I don't know what's going on any more than you do. I… are you saying that you have no idea where my brother is? Tall guy, floppy hair, doom-laden expression?"

"Listen, buddy, I think you should be the one answering the questions right now. And you can start by telling me who the hell you are."

Dean breathes a sigh. It's way too early in the morning for this crap. "My name is Dean Winchester, and I was—"

"Wait, what? Winchester? No, that's… that's not possible."

"I wish I could agree with you there, but—"

"No. No, I'm telling you, it's not possible."

This chick has an annoying habit of interrupting Dean. "And why is that?" he replies testily.

"Because I'm Sam Winchester, and I've sure as hell never heard of you."

Dean swallows. "Um, okay. That's about the last thing I thought you'd say. You… you can't be Sam Winchester. See, my brother's Sam Winchester, and last time I checked he was definitely a dude. Wait… what did you say your sister's name was?"

The girl looks at him suspiciously. "Deanne. Deanne Winchester, and I'm Samantha."

Dean sits down heavily on the bed. "Oh. Crap." He looks up at the girl. "My name's Dean."

Samantha slowly lowers the gun. "You… you really don't know what's going on here, do you?" Now that Dean's looking at her properly, he can definitely see why she had seemed so familiar. She's Sam. Well, girl-Sam. She has all of his expressions, his way of saying certain words, his way of looking at you like you're the biggest moron ever to breathe oxygen.

"I… I have no idea. Look, I think that something might have happened. I mean, if you're telling the truth about who you are, and… and if I've not gone buckets of crazy overnight, then… I think that… that your world and my world must have got… smooshed."

Girl-Sam raises an eyebrow in that familiar way Dean hates. "Alternate universes? Are you kidding me?"

"Well can you think of another explanation?"

"Um… you're some crazy person who's kidnapped my sister? Or a demon?"

"Look, you wanna throw holy water on me, go ahead. But if I were a demon, do you really think I'd go to such elaborate lengths? I can't explain what's going on here, but… but maybe we can figure it out together, okay? Listen to me… my name is Dean Winchester, and my little brother's called Sam. We were raised as hunters after our mom was killed by a demon. And right now… right now we're both trying not to become the meat puppets for Lucifer and the Archangel Michael. It's… it's not going so well."

Samantha looks shaken. "It was Dad. It was Dad who died that night in my nursery." She stares at Dean, and he recognises the look that Sam gives when he's trying really hard to figure something out. "Okay," she says at length. "Okay, say I believe you. Say you're really… like… some weird alternate version of my sister. It still begs the question of what the hell you're doing here, and what's happened to Deanne."

"You think I don't want to know that too?"

"Right. Okay. Um… I'm calling Bobbie."

"Oh, thank God, you've still got Bobby."

Samantha gives him a puzzled look. "Well… yeah. But first things first – drink this." She hands Dean a hip flask.

He unscrews the cap and sniffs the contents suspiciously.

"Holy water," Samantha says. "You know, just to be on the safe side."

…

"Oh, this is a horrible idea."

"You got a better one?" Girl-Sam gives Dean that pissy look he knows so well.

"I guess not, but… I just hope Bobby's got some answers."

"If anyone does, it'll be her."

"Wait… her? Your Bobby's a chick?"

"Yeah, of course she… you mean yours is a guy? Wow. That's gotta be weird."

At least the car looks the same. Dean feels very proud of his female self, and kind of hopes that he gets to meet her, wherever she is, before this is through. They could have some times. And that's the weirdest thing Dean's thought in a while. "So… your sister. What's she like?"

Samantha huffs a laugh. "You should know. She's… she's my sister. She's a lot like you, only…"

"Only what?"

"Nothing."

"What's she look like? She hot?"

"Dude! She's my sister!"

"I was only asking!"

Samantha makes a noise of disgust. "If you must know, there's a photo of us in my purse." She reaches into the back seat and grabs a brown leather satchel. Eyes still on the road, she rummages in one of the side pockets and pulls out a picture.

"Oh, Sammy, I can't believe you have a purse," Dean says as he takes the photo. Huh. Well, he can definitely see the resemblance. The girl standing with her arm around Samantha in the photo has his eyes, and his grin. She also has bright red hair, which is a little… disconcerting. Still, she's… "Niiiice." Dean says.

"Ugh. Dude, this is too weird. Gimme my photo." Samantha snatches it back.

"What? I'm just sayin', girl me is looking pretty good."

Samantha makes that snorting noise Sam always makes when he's being especially contemptuous of something Dean does. "Yeah, well, even if we do figure out what's going on and you get to meet her, she wouldn't go for you."

Dean can't help but feel a little affronted. "Why not?"

"Well, I wish I could say that it's because she's not a pervert, but… the truth is, you're just not her type."

"What? That's ridiculous."

Samantha shoots a look at him. "Wow. You really are alike. No, I'm sorry to break this to you, but you're not. She tends to go for the serious, quiet, brooding type."

"Oh." Dean shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "That's… weird. Look, are you sure you couldn't find me some clothes? I don't exactly like the idea of strolling into a weird female Bobby's house wearing what I've slept in. Like the situation isn't awkward enough as it is."

"Oh, yeah, cause I always carry around a spare set of guys clothes just in case my sister's male double shows up overnight," Samantha says, her voice rich with sarcasm. "Listen, dude, I told you you're welcome to whatever we've got."

"Thanks, but no thanks." Deanne's personal style was pretty close to Dean's, it's true. Still, he's not going to kid himself. Panties were one thing, but there's no way he's even going to try and squeeze himself into women's size six jeans.

…

Being around Bobbie is weird. Mostly because she's so damn much like Dean's Bobby that it's uncanny. She even wears the same old weather-beaten cap. Thankfully, she at least has managed to find Dean some clothes. Dean assumed that Bobby would always be prepared for every possible eventuality, regardless of gender.

"—what the hell we're going to do, Bobbie! You… you don't think it's the angels again, do you?" Dean hears girl-Sam say as he heads back into Bobby's – no, Bobbie's – kitchen. Both women look up at him as he walks in.

"So, Dean," Bobbie says, in a way that makes it clear that there are invisible sarcastic quote marks around his name. "You sure there's nothing else you can tell us?"

"Yes!" Dean replies defensively. "Look, I get that this is weird for you all, but I'm the one who's been transported into some freaky world of opposites overnight."

"And nothing happened last night in… in your world? Nothing that might've led to this?"

"No! Look, me and Sam got back from the funeral and we crashed. That was it."

Samantha looks up at him curiously. "Funeral?"

Just then, they hear the sound of tyres on gravel outside. "Oh good," Bobbie says, getting to her feet. "They're back."

"Who?" Samantha asks.

"Joe and Allan. They've been helping out with that poltergeist situation, remember? Maybe they can shed some light on what the hell is going on around here."

"Allan and Joe…" Dean says. "Wait, Jo and Ellen? They're… they're alive?"

Samantha looks at him, puzzled. "Well, yeah."

Dean swallows. "It's their funeral I just got back from."

Samantha's eyes grow very wide.

"Look… I don't know how close our two worlds are, but… but if you guys ever team up at all over this whole apocalypse thing, just… just be careful, okay?"

Samantha looks like she's about to say something, but just then the door opens and two men walk into the room.

"Well, I'll be damned," Dean says quietly, getting to his feet. "It really is you."

Allan and Joe look at him like… well, like he's some random guy they've never met before saying something completely inscrutable to them.

"Hey, guys," Samantha says, running a hand through her hair. "Um… this is Dean."

…

Bobbie's coffee tastes good. Dean thinks that it might actually be better than Bobby's, but there's no way in hell he's going to let that on when he gets back home. If. But Dean's not going to think about that 'if' right now. He's going to think about how good the coffee feels when it burns down his throat, and how there's stuffing leaking out of the old armchair he's sitting in, and how there's a dead fly on the windowsill. He's taught himself over the years not to panic. Just focus on things that don't matter, ground yourself, don't allow yourself to dwell for too long on the shit-storm you're caught up in, because that's when your chest starts to tighten and your palms start to sweat. Don't think about how you've left Sammy on his own. Don't think about how weirdly Joe looks like Jo, and how you're never going to see her again. Just think about regular things. Human things.

"Needless to say, this just doesn't make any sense!" Allan is saying. "I checked all the weather reports, and there's nothing to signify any kind of supernatural activity. No electrical storms, no fluctuations in temperature…"

Joe shifts impatiently in his seat, shooting Dean a weird look. "Aren't we wasting time? Shouldn't we be out there looking for Deanne? I mean, she could be anywhere, and we're just sitting around doing research?"

"Joe," Allan says patiently in a way that's so familiar it makes Dean's chest hurt. "We can't just go driving off, all guns blazing, till we know what we're dealing with here. If this… Dean is right, then we may not be able to find Deanne at all."

Another dirty look from Joe. "And you guys are seriously buying all this alternate universe bull?"

"Hey!" Dean protests. "I think it's as crazy as you do! But the thing is, I've turned up here now, and this sure as hell isn't my world, so unless you've got a better explanation…" He trails off as he looks at Joes face. He's got that expression Jo always has – had – when she was angling for a fight. This is the closest Dean's ever going to get to being with her again, and he doesn't want it to be like this. He sighs wearily. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm just… tired. I know how you feel, believe me, and I wish I could get… the other me back to you too." He looks up at Joe, half guiltily. "I know how much you care about her."

The corner of Joe's mouth twitches, and he looks away.

"If I can find a way to stop being your problem… believe me, I will. I want to get home too."

"Okay, honey," Bobbie says. "It's okay. We just all need to put our heads together."

Dean pulls a face. "Bobbie… don't call me 'honey'. It's… weird." He presses his lips together. Suddenly, being around these people is just too difficult. Seeing another world where everything is so familiar, yet things have turned out so completely different makes him wonder… makes him wonder whether they could have done things differently as well. Whether if they had, Ellen and Jo might be back at Bobby's place right now, alive and well. Guilt twists at his insides.

"I gotta get some air," he says to no one in particular. "Just… give me a minute, okay?"

He thinks that Samantha tries to stop him, but he doesn't pay any attention. He just needs to be by himself right now. Just for a minute, just to clear his head.

It's getting dark out now. Dean turns up the collar of the jacket Bobbie's given him, and stuffs his hands into the pockets. He wonders what Sam – his Sam – is doing now. He hopes he's okay. Maybe this Deanne is there with him, and they're trying to figure out how to fix things too. God, he could use some help right about now. He could use—

"Jesus!" Dean stumbles backwards and almost trips over the steps to Bobbie's porch. "Cas, don't do that! Who just appears? How about a little warning next time?"

Castiel is just standing there, staring at Dean with that infuriatingly blank expression of his. "I apologize," he says.

Dean sucks in a breath and tries to slow his pulse. "Dude, I gotta say, nearly giving me a heart attack aside, I've rarely been so happy to see… wait, you're… you're you."

The angel looks up at him, bewildered. "Yes."

Dean laughs a little nervously. He hates that. Since when has he been nervous around Cas? "Well, I gotta say, I'm relieved. Although I was kind of looking forward to some smoking hot angel chick called Castielle showing up and giving me grief." Another nervous laugh.

Castiel ilooks/i at him, and with a horrible, stomach-turning jolt, Dean realises exactly what he's just said, and all that it implies. "So!" he says hurriedly. "Please tell me that you're here to help me."

The angel's expression softens, just a little. Dean kind of hates that he can pick up on stuff like that now. Kind of. "Of course."

"Great. Okay. So… mojo me out of here already. "

"It's not that easy."

"Why am I not surprised," Dean mutters. He turns away, because it's not easy to focus with Castiel watching. "Okay, so what the hell's going on, then? And more to the point, how do I get back home?" He knows that Castiel is moving closer to him, and Dean feels himself grow tense.

A hand is laid gently on his shoulder. "Dean, you are the one who put yourself here."

This makes him turn around. Castiel is so close to him that Dean blinks and takes a step back. "What the hell are you talking about? I didn't do this. I didn't do anything!"

"You have altered your reality. You wanted things to be different."

"No! And that was just… I didn't mean… damn it, Cas! Are you seriously trying to tell me that I have the power to create alternate universes? Because you know, I think I would've noticed. Wait… am I God?"

"Of course not," Castiel replies, a little testily. Dean's been noticing that lately – how Cas has been getting more of an attitude. "Dean, you are the only one who has the power to put things back the way they should be. You are the only one who can get you home."

"Okay, Glinda, lemme just grab my ruby slippers and we'll get outta here."

Castiel does that adorable head tilt think – no, not adorable, not adorable, damnit! – and looks at Dean like he's gone insane. Not for the first time.

"Oh, great. Just so I know, are there any pop culture references you're gonna get? Because that's, like, half my repertoire."

Castiel thinks for a moment. "I enjoy Spongebob."

Dean is flabbergasted. "Well, that's… I… You and I are gonna have strong words about that one if we ever get back home. And, just remind me, how the hell am I supposed to do that again?"

The angel takes another step towards him, like he's completely forgotten about the whole personal space issue again, and Dean realises that if he moved just a little bit closer they would be touching. And that's a weird thing for him to realise. Cas is looking at him like he's some previously undiscovered country. It makes Dean feel so strange when he does that, like there's nowhere to hide, and he wants to move away, but he can't this time. God, he can't breathe when Cas does this. And then Castiel lifts his hand and gently touches his fingers to Dean's temple. They feel so icy cold against Dean's hot head, and his breath catches in his chest.

"I told you. You have to get yourself home. No one else can do it for you. It has to be you."

"But, Cas," Dean whispers, "I don't know how."

"Neither do I. But it's the only way."

Dean starts to feel dizzy and closes his eyes. "I have to get out of here, Cas, I have to—" Dean feels as if the earth is shifting under his feet, and he staggers, grabbing hold of Castiel's arm to steady himself. "Cas, I—" Everything is spinning, and Dean thinks he's going to fall, but there are strong hands holding him up. "Cas… don't leave me…"

…

When Dean opens his eyes again, he realises with a little twinge of regret that he's alone once more. Castiel is gone, and Dean is… well, Dean doesn't know where he is, but it sure as hell isn't home.