Post Lucifer Rising on the Supernatural side. Anything in season 5-6 didn't happen, except that Castiel isn't dead. Post Chain of Memories on the Kingdom Hearts side.

Dean's adventures in Wonderland are more a combination of American McGee's Alice, the books, and the 1951 Disney movie than they are straight up Disney. I like to think that when Alice got back to Wonderland, she kind of fucking kicked ass.

I lifted portions of the poem Jabberwocky from the books.

There's some dialogue that I took from the game; specifically the phrase "how fine she looks when dressed in light" is a play on a quote from the Cheshire Cat in Alice. Additionally, the Jabberwock's eye being a weapon is also from the game. I believe that's about it.

Wonderland

Dean wakes up with his face in the dirt. He groans. If there's on constant in his life, it's the fact that he takes freakin' dirt naps whenever it's most inconvenient. The Devil's risen and he eats earth. Awesome.

"You alright, Sammy?" he asks.

When his brother doesn't respond, not even to groan or say something retarded like, "I hate your guts, go die in a fire," that's when Dean starts to worry. Sam may not be making any noise, but the sounds Dean's hearing do not belong next to a convent in Maryland.

"Your brother's not here," something trills, "Too dark for Wonderland, maybe, or maybe just not mad enough yet. He'll get there eventually. We all go mad here. You already are."

He opens his eyes so fast he forgets that he's, you know, face first in some dirt for a few seconds. Then he turns his head, one hand already groping for his misplaced gun, opens his mouth to tell that voice to go fuck itself, and freezes.

"Oh," Dean manages, "That is so wrong."

He's under a giant mushroom. And not a giant mushroom as in, 'hahaha, look at that mushroom Sammy, there's totally a fairy hiding under there,' but more like the mushroom is probably taller than he is (but not Sammy, maybe). It's freakish, is what it is.

"Over here," the voice says, "Or maybe I'm over there. It's so hard to tell sometimes."

"Yeah, if you're crazy," Dean heaves himself to his feet, brushing off his jeans, and tries not to freak the fuck out. Okay, so maybe Lucifer decided to take him camping, or something, and he's down with that, really he is, because hey, he likes his eyes right where they are, but where's Sammy?

There's bad blood between them (Ruby's) and shitty decisions and one ultimatum that Dean should have fucking known better than to ever issue, but Sam's his brother, his to look after and beat on when he's done stupid shit. He needs to be here.

"I did mention that we're all mad here, didn't I?" the voice says again. "Really, you should look up. There's nothing on the ground but more dirt and you've already met that."

"You should just shut the fuck up before I shoot your stupid ass," Dean warns. Except, yeah, he's still missing his gun. Castiel probably should have fucking given it back to him when he whipped him to where Sam was.

It's a forest, Dean realizes suddenly. A bizarre one with huge trees and mushrooms and water that looks like its painted on the ground instead of wet, but a forest. He's seen some strange shit in his time, been to Hell and lived to watch his brother let the Devil out, but there's no frame of reference for… this. "What the fuck?"

"Wonderland," the voice says, and suddenly there's a freakin' psychedelic cat perched on the mushroom top over his head, "Oh, it's a wonder, isn't it? You'll absolutely go mad for it, sooner or later!"

"I thought I was already mad?" Dean asks. He drops back down to feel around for Ruby's knife, not taking his eyes off the cat's psycho-killer smile, but the magical talking cat just chuckles and says, "There are no weapons like that in Wonderland, Dean. Can't go among the daft with pointy objects, now can we?"

It rolls onto its back and lolls its tongue out at him. "Of course," it says, "You do keep what you bring, or what follows your heart. There's someone waiting for you in the Bizarre Room, you know. They're getting impatient."

Dean twitches. On the one hand, cat that smiles like a murdering psychopath and is probably lying. On the other hand, if Sam's waiting for him somewhere, if Sam's here, can he afford to ignore it? "Fine," Dean says, running a hand down his face, "Fine, you fugly freak of nature—"

"The Cheshire Cat can commence with alliteration like a champion," the cat says, laughing. It flicks out of reach when Dean takes a swing at it, half of its body disappearing to leave behind a macabre grin and a twitching tail. "The shadows are gathering 'round your friend, curious, curious. The lights are on, the shadow is large, and you'll be too late if you don't hurry."

This is like a bad dream, Dean decides, with something just out of reach and nobody willing to help you. "Where?" he demands.

"The upside-down room, of course! Where else would it be? The Queen's Road will lead the way."

Dean spins in a quick circle, but there's no trail on the ground, no path, and definitely nothing that's going to qualify as a road, shit crazy cat aside. He rubs his face again, suddenly dog tired, and wonders again where the fuck he is.

He's starting to get the feeling that he's not in America anymore. Or even the world, because he's never heard of anything like this before. Talking cats, sure, and fairy worlds, but there's no magic feeling here, and he'd been holding cold iron when Lucifer rose.

Questions and more fucking questions. They can wait until he has his geek boy kid brother next to him. "Which dirt path is the Queen's Road again?" he mumbles.

More laughter. "Oh, it doesn't matter," the cat says. It stretches onto its suddenly visible toes and bobs its head, mouth still stretched into that terrifying grin. "Pick a way, any way. All the ways are the Queen's Roads, so you can go left or right or up or down, and still find yourself just left of where you started."

"You stupid piece of shit, just tell me where to go!"

"I already told you," the cat says, disappearing completely. "Go left."

"Left," Dean says, "Of course." He turns to his left, then scowls and turns to the cat's left, and watches a path spool out under his feet. "No, that makes total sense," Dean says under his breath, and starts jogging anyway.

The more he runs, the stranger the world gets. He takes a chance and follows the road when it runs right over the "water," curses when his boots get wet even though the it feels just like ground instead of pond under foot. The trees get bigger, so of course the path climbs straight up one and onto a tree branch.

Dean catches his breath for a long minute before he spits, "Shit," and looks for something to climb on. The mushroom looks kind of sturdy, now that he thinks about it, so he goes to lean a hand against the top; it holds, even if it feels disgustingly squishy, so Dean scrambles up it and jumps for the branch before he can lose his nerve.

"Gonna kill that damn cat," he says direly, "Gonna hunt that little bitch down and pump it full of iron."

Thank God, the road leads into a… strategically placed bush that's floating in thin air as far as he can tell. Dean sucks on his teeth. This place feels like a bad dream when he's high, but the path's reappears on that bush over there, so he takes a breath, backs up some, and goes for a running leap.

He's really freakin' surprised when he lands and the damn floating bush holds his weight.

"Almost there now," the cat suddenly says. "The shadows are stretching, though, so be careful. The Jabberwock's woken and eaten all the mome raths right up. Alice is getting ready to hunt it."

"Yeah?" Dean says absently, "And who's Alice?"

The cat's grin appears before the cat does, bobbing along at head-height in front of Dean. "Why, she's the Princess, of course. The Queen of Hearts tried to take off her head, but the Knight came and the Knave took her away."

"Yeah? Who brought her back, the Ace?"

"Oh, she came back by herself, our Alice," the cat says. "Be careful here, the floor's up top and the ceiling's down low."

"Of course it is," Dean says.

He drops down to the floor (ceiling?) with a grimace, batting away the cat's psycho grin when it gets in his way, and takes a good long look around the room he's found himself in. It's… big, is his first thought. Like. Giant baby big, with a teddy bear and a bed and a table that are all easily the size of small buildings.

"This isn't screwed up at all," Dean tells the cat, because, well, if he's gone friggin' insane like he's starting to suspect he has, it's not like talking to his head monsters is going to make much of a difference. "Gotta admit, I didn't think I was this fucked in the head, even after hell."

If Lucifer's idea of hell on earth is a freakin' loony bin dream, Dean supposes he should count his blessings. And he will. As soon as he finds Sam. Bad shit happens when he lets his brother go off and do his own thing.

"The Jabberwock with eyes aflame came waffling through the tugley wood," the cat sings, "The jaws that bite, the claws that catch, they'll tear your heart right out your chest." It's disappearing again when Dean's head whips around to glare at it, its toothy grin shining like a half-moon.

"That doesn't sound ominous at all," he says.

The ground starts shaking.

Dean curses, because he's got no fucking weapon, and the goddamn cat's gone suddenly, laughing like a hyena, all "aha, ahahaha."

The thing that comes into the giant room is really fucking strange, even by a hunter's standards. It's almost like a snake or a dragon, with a head like a deepwater fish and tattered wings. It shakes itself, tail thumping the ground, before it hisses, "I smell you. You don't belong to Wonderland."

"Jabberwock, Jabberwock," the cat says from over Dean's shoulder; he spins around to clock it one, managing to bust open his knuckles on its grin. The damn cat keeps right on grinning. "Alice is coming for your head!"

"She can try, Cat," the Jabberwock murmurs, "A Princess has no place in a fight, and no Knight protects her heart. The heartless will rejoice to have such a leader."

"Silly monster," a girl's voice suddenly says, "Don't you know a Princess of Heart can't be made into a heartless at all?"

"There's always a first," the Jabberwock says, "And even if there isn't, it will get rid of you and this world can fall like it was always meant to."

The girl's enough to freak Dean right the fuck out. He doesn't really like little girls at the best of time, because, well, they do things like wish for their teddy bears to come to life. This girl, though, she's got big blue eyes and long blonde hair and one of those freaky blue dresses on, the old time ones that make Dean think of mental institutions for some reason.

Oh, yeah, and she's got a motherfucking knife.

"I don't much like the thought of Wonderland going dark," the girl says.

Dean's kind of an expert on knife throwing. He has to be, after twenty-five years of hunting. So he knows what the girl's gonna do as soon as she pulls her hand back in that position, but the knife in her hand is way too long to make an effective projectile.

"Don't throw that," Dean warns under his breath.

"You should heed the warnings," the Jabberwock says. It sits back on its haunches and grins, teeth dripping something that eats at the… ceiling, he guess. This room is seriously fucked up. "I'll take your heart when you miss."

"You shan't."

There's something really fucking familiar about that knife, Dean thinks as he drops to the ground and scrambles towards the girl. She's still standing there, still standing like she's thinking about throwing that familiar fucking knife instead of ducking for cover and using a weapon that makes more sense on something that big.

"Down," Dean shouts, except the girl turns to look at him and says, "Oh, who are you?" and casually throws her only weapon in the same breath.

The explosion of light that follows sears Dean's eyes. He slams them closed on instinct, horror rising, because it feels like Lucifer again, like maybe he's waking up just when he was deciding he already was.

He gropes out with one hand, but there's still no giant dork of a brother clinging to his sleeve. Just a girl that makes an undignified noise and hits his hand when it touches her shoulder.

Something lands on his back as he hunches. "You won't burn up," the cat says, "Alice is too kind for that." It makes a considering noise. "How fine she looks when dressed in light."

Dean takes a couple of steps back, jumps when his back hits something cool and metal and familiar. His palm slams against it without conscious thought; he'd recognize his baby anywhere, and that means freakin' weapons when he can stand to open his eyes.

He's really freakin' hoping that the Jabberwock is as blind as he is at the moment.

(He's not thinking about how the fuck his car got here.)

"You can open your eyes now," the girl (Alice?) says. "The light's gone, and so is the Jabberwock. You didn't tell me it would… melt like that, Cat."

Dean pries one eye open with a healthy dose of caution. The crazy fucked up room comes into focus, instead of the Convent, and he can't help the sigh. He's starting to think that he really is here, wherever here is. God, he hopes not.

How screwed up is his life that he wishes this is a dream and he can go back to clutching Sam (Sam, Sam, where is his brother in all of this, Jesus Christ) in the presence of the Devil.

The Impala does not look like herself, Dean realizes as soon as his eyes are open far enough to look. She's… lumpy, which Dean would have never fucking stood for, and she's. Okay, see, he's seen his car stripped down to the frame. He's pretty sure she's never looked like the bastard child of a spaceship and Sammy's scribbles when he was four.

"What the fuck did you do to my car?" slips out.

"Don't mind the dead monster," Alice says, "Obviously, your… machine is more important."

The Impala's engine revs like she's laughing at him. Dean stares at her for a few long seconds before he very grudgingly starts to stumble his way through an exorcism.

The damn cat laughs. Again. "Even a puppet can have a heart," it says, "Is it that surprising that she does as well? But, oh, you were looking for little baby brother, weren't you? That shadow isn't here."

"Silly old mangy cat," the girl says, reaching out to pat it on its head with one dainty hand. "You shouldn't speak in riddles to someone who doesn't know Wonderland at all." Dean attempts a grin when she turns and curtsies to him, suddenly. "Welcome to Wonderland, good sir."

The monster's really fucking dead behind her. Like. Pile of oozing black bodily fluids dead, its face seared half off and the rest of it charred to a particularly friggin' nasty shade of black. The knife's not on the corpse, but he's damn sure it wasn't what did this to the monster. A flamer-thrower, maybe. A knife? Definitely not.

He's not gonna ask.

Dean gives Alice a look he's pretty sure is full of what he considers to be a healthy amount of respect, because, well, holy fucking shit. "Really, I'm pretty sure I'm just on the crazy train right now. I'm hoping I wake up soon."

The girl blinks at him before shaking her head suddenly. "You're not from this world, are you?" she asks. "Like Sora, Donald, and Goofy? Are you visiting?"

"No, oh no, Alice my dear," the cat says, propping its head on its paws, "His world's gone and the shadows spilled him up here, right in the Jabberwock's path. He's looking for his brother, you see, and there isn't such a thing in all of Wonderland. Too much light in you for someone like that to be drawn here."

"I see," says Alice. "The White Queen was wondering which star went out last night."

"Seriously," Dean says, "Ready to wake up at any time over here."

"It's not a dream, though I know Wonderland feels like it at times." Alice clasps her hands behind her back and rocks on her heels, daintily side-stepping a spreading pool of black blood. "Are you from a world that doesn't know, then?"

"Look, kid, as far as I'm concerned, this is all a really shitty dream I'm having at a really shitty time," he says pointedly. "Apparently, Satan's managed to knock a screw loose or something, but I would really like to wake up. Or find my brother," Dean adds as an afterthought.

Not an afterthought, actually, because if he's not dreaming, he sure as fuck needs to know where Sam is.

"We're all mad here," Alice says absently. "Cat?"

The cat hums a few bars, out of key, and says, "His world fell to light and then the shadows slipped in and wiped it all away. He's here because you needed the Vorpal Blade. Nothing here for him now."

"And my brother?" Dean makes himself ask. He can't. If the world's gone and he's on another one, Sam's safe too. Sam is not gone with the Earth because if he was, Dean's going to kill him.

"The Cheshire Cat is usually right about these things, when he wants to be," Alice says. "If he says your brother isn't in Wonderland at all, I would take his word for it. I'm sorry we can't be of more help."

The Cheshire Cat stirs, crawling up Alice's back to perch on her head with a wink. "Give him the Vorpal Blade, Alice," he says, his grin spreading wide. "It's his, after all, and the Jabberwock's eye will make an ever so much better weapon for you."

"His eye?" the girl gives the corpse a baleful look, then shrugs and hands Dean the knife in her hand. "If you say so, Cat."

It's Ruby's knife. Of course it is. Dean wipes the black ichor off onto his pants and decides he really doesn't want to watch a little girl go dig the eye out of a monster's corpse. "This thing isn't a Vorpal Blade," Dean says, "Whatever that is."

The cat tips onto its head, literally, all four of its paws perched on the back of its own skull. "It killed the Jabberwock, didn't it?" it asks.

It's not worth arguing about. "So how do I blow this joint, then?"

"There are pathways," the cat says, "Your girl can show you the ways."

"I thought all ways are the Queen's ways?" Dean ribs. He stares at the Impala, at the strange sleek lines of her now. She almost looks like a kid's fucking lego project, all in black, but the outside's still paint slick and cold under his fingertips.

He wonders if all his weapons are inside of her like the should be.

"Hmm?" Alice looks up from where she's sizing up the Jabberwock corpse and smiles. "No," she says, "Not anymore. All ways are my ways, you see, since I was pawn to queen. You can find your way, though, by borrowing one of mine. It shan't be hard."

"Oh," Dean says, dropping his head back to roll his eyes at the ceiling. Floor. Whatever was up. "If it 'shan't be hard!'"

"You're full of complaints for someone who needs to leave quickly," Alice notes. "He isn't on this world. You need to travel to others to look for him; you can use a path of mine to leave here, but after that you're going to be on your own. I don't know how to navigate your machines. We didn't need them."

That makes so much sense. No. Really. Dean sort of feels like crying right now. Instead, he says, "I need to find my brother." Might as well latch on to one thing if everything else was fucking him up.

Sam was always worth latching on to.

"Then you should get into your machine and leave," Alice says. "Cat, can you assist me, please? I don't want to get this on my hands."

Dean would much rather puzzle over how the fuck to get the Impala open than turn around and figure out exactly what is making that squishing noise, thanks. The Impala opens with the same old familiar creak when he presses a palm to her side, and she's bigger than she looks from the outside. Dean stands in the doorway and stares for a little while, because "bigger" doesn't cover the amount of space he's seeing.

"Dean," Alice says.

"Yeah?"

"I hope you find your brother."

Sam might hate him when he finds him again. Dean still wants to punch his lights out and lock him up somewhere until he's sober. But, yeah, he really, really wants to find him first. Stupid little brothers should not be let out on their own.

"Me too," he sighs.

The Impala's spacious on the inside, but she starts up with the same familiar rumble when he slides into what he's going to assume is the driver's seat. She's not like she's supposed to be, but. You know. He's pretty damn sure he's not sleeping, because he's never dreamed his girl's a spaceship before.

And if this isn't a dream, if he's really on another fucking world because Lucifer wiped his, he needs to find Sam. He refuses to believe that Sam could have died with the world, alright, he's just not freakin' going there. His brother's out there, lost, and possibly still high on demon blood and his girlfriend's death.

Dean needs to find him. Now.

He rubs a hand down his face and sighs. "This is so fucked up," he mutters.

Something thumps onto the Impala. Dean looks up, catches a glimpse of it, and then gives it a long, loving view of his finger. The damn cat's grinning at him from the windshield.

"I'm going to take you out someday," Dean promises it with a grimace, and guns the engine. He probably should have been, but he's totally not prepared to end up in outer space about ten seconds later, the Impala purring like laughter under him.