Dean Winchester – an idol of mine but he wasn’t real. I knew this was a dream. I knew this man was fake he wasn’t real but here he was standing in front of me – pointing a gun at me. Wait, why? I was about to say something when Dean shouted, “Shut your cakehole, Demon!”
He thought I was a demon? “Wait. I’m not…” And then I remembered the fireball coming from my hand. I could smell the old cigarette smoke on his skin mixed with his cologne. I could see the tiny stubble growing on his chin. What the fuck was going on? I raised my hands and when I looked down at them I half expected to see long fingers with painted nails, but I saw my own hands with nails carefully trimmed.
That was when the smell hit me. It wasn’t burning flesh – sulfur. “Why do I smell sulfur?”
Dean lifted his nose to the wind like a wolf might and whiffed the air. “I can’t smell it.” He pushed the gun at me as he took a step. His two handed grip changed to one as he reached inside his leather jacket and pulled out a flask. This was no time for a drink I was about to say but the contents of the flask were splashed in my face. “I’m no fucking Demon you Idjit.” I grinned at my words. But the look on his face went white and his gun lowered a little but then in a blink it was raised again.
“I don’t know what you are. But you will shut it now or I’ll put a bullet in you.”
There was venom in his voice like none I’d ever seen before. The memory of Bobby was a wound I had just thrown salt into. But Dean didn’t know he was just a character. Well I guess he did, the prophet wrote a book about the Winchester boys. Maybe that’s what he thought I was doing? Close but not quite. But whatever this dream wanted with me I’d play along.
Dean was point a gun at me. He thought I was a monster. I was human. I could just manipulate machines – electronics mostly. But Adam – he could do all sorts of cool things. “I’m not some monster. I don’t know what’s going on here any more than you do.” I said but I took a step back so that if he did try to shoot me I might be able to run.
Dean cleared his throat, “You just threw a fucking fireball.” He pointed in the direction I threw it. “At that demon and it went poof up in smoke.” He turned back to me, “That’s what you did.”
I shook my head. “That wasn’t a demon it was a werewolf.”
“I know what the fuck it was.” He shifted the gun closer to me. “I’m not an idiot. I do this for a living. That sulfur smell you think you smell – that’s a demon.”
“Demon’s can’t be in our world without a body – same as in yours.” I said.
He cocked his head at me, “What are you blathering about worlds? We are in New York City and unless you think you are from some alternate dimension you must have hit your head pretty hard.”
I rubbed the back of my head. I hadn’t fallen. But there was a knot the size of Kansas on it. How? What? I blinked at the halos all returned. Around Dean there was nothing. He didn’t vibrate colors, just nothing. I blinked them away again and frowned. Dean sighed. “You look pretty messed up kid.” He said offering me a hand.
I wanted to say I wasn’t a kid, but I only took his hand and blushed as he yanked me to my feet. I didn’t know when I fell. “What happened I?” I asked. “From your point of view?”