Not Until We Are Lost

Sam had spent the first few days on this new planet laying low and seeing what he could learn. He hadn't missed the dinosaurs-who could miss the dinosaurs, after all? He'd made a point to track down as much of his family as he could to make sure that they were safe. It still took some getting used to the idea of having so much extended family around. But truthfully, that just made him happy. He and Dean had never been completely isolated, but this was different. It was a strange sort of family but it was a family all the same. And family was something that Sam had always longed for. Something that he'd gotten from Dean but had never really felt from his dad. Not in the same way.

Today, he decided to venture out a little more. He kept an eye out for Destiny and any of the other new arrivals, but he also just had an eye out for anyone with their group. He was still working on theories about the aliens and how to find their way home and he thought that the more people he heard from on their own experiences, the easier it would be to put the pieces together.

One thing stuck out in particular amidst all the small cabins. Sam couldn't help but notice the blue police box. He tilted his head to study it, wondering at the thing. Oh, he'd heard a little bit about the Doctor from Mary and Jo. Some of it was a little hard to believe, but he trusted them both.

He stood in front of the police box (which wasn't really a police box at all, if Jo and Mary were right) and considered his options. Finally, he lifted a hand to knock on the door.

There were worse places to end up, Sam decided. This world wasn't in the midst of a conflict at least. That was an improvement over the last world. Though from the rumors he'd heard, it was some of their group that had started the revolution in the first place. He just had to hope that it wasn't a regular occurrence. Dean hadn't mentioned that if it was, so Sam had to assume that they didn't have a group that raised a ruckus everywhere they went. With any luck, they'd all be a little quieter on this world.

He needed to find Dean and Jo, but he also needed to find Annabelle. He'd promised to train her and she was so young that he didn't like the idea of her wandering in a world like this without someone to watch her back. It might not have been this particular version of Sam who'd promised to help her out, but he still felt like he owed her all the same.

The day after he'd arrived in the world, Sam started out bright and early. He wasn't sure where he should be looking, so he simply went around checking all of the shops and taverns he could find. He just had to hope that they were all placed around the same little village, because he had no idea where the next settlement would be or how long it might take to get there. Never mind that he would have to find a way to borrow a horse or... something.

So he simply hoped for the best as he set off on his search.

Rob sighed as he set the phone down. It was finally time, and he had no idea how this would go down - he didn't see it going all that well. He tapped at the phone's face, avoiding waking it up or making it do anything.

He'd called Mary and Jo, but both seemed okay with it just being Sam. Rob would have preferred not doing this; he didn't want to be the grown up. He didn't want to say anything, but they were all right - Rob did need to tell the last of the Winchesters the truth. He took a deep breath and glanced at the clock.

Sam had set up the meeting. Sam would be there for all of this. Rob stood up with a soft sigh, and he started toward Sam's room where this would all happen. He had suggested finding somewhere a little more neutral, but he wasn't sure where that might be, not in the new city anyway.

A few minutes later, he knocked on Sam's door, hoping he was there before Dean.

Rob wasn't exactly stalking the man who was but would never be his father. No, he wasn't. He was just very aware of where Sam Winchester was most days. He'd quickly discerned a pattern for the tallest of Winchesters, and had inserted himself just as quickly into one part of it. They worked out together. Oh, it wasn't a long drawn out thing, but Rob had to check the man out before throwing it all out there.

He couldn't help notice as he was doing his best to look normal that he wasn't as ...small as he used to be, especially when compared to his father. The Man of Letters had always taken after his father in the healthy lifestyle - Sam had been able to become even more so once he'd settled into the bunker with his wife and two kids. Actually they'd been sort of settled before Rob ever showed, but the place had become more of a home with the second child.

Rob had made them a family of four. Now he was about to be the undoing of another family.

He settled into a few reps with a weight and watched himself and Sam go through their routines. He didn't leer thankfully. He just worked out.

"So, crazy huh?" Yeah, that was the way to start this awkward conversation. "The aliens and all."

Annabelle didn't do well with roommates, let alone roommates she didn't know. But her suitemate seemed to be a quiet guy, for the most part. That was about all she knew about him so far.

That and he kept his lights on all the time.

And Annabelle knew she was making them flicker, but she couldn't calm down fully. She thought that was reasonable; most people weren't totally calm in this situation, it was just that her lack of calm was really obvious because of her powers. It wasn't her fault.

The change of scenery was both comforting and not for Annabelle. It was less likely she'd be burned at the stake or something here, but also there was a lot more technology she could ruin and, from what she was understanding, a lot more rules in place, making breaking them more likely, which would lead to other problems with her staying calm.

It only took a day for her to seek out Sam.

The nice thing about this place, other than that it was really nice, the kind of hotel that her family put her up in when she travelled and her father wasn't in a position to stop them or complain, was that other people she knew, the other captives, or prisoners, were really easy to find. You only had to ask, or look them up. And she had a working phone.

It was easy to find Sam's room, and once she did, Annabelle knocked on the door. She realized, a little too late, that it was possible Sam wasn't feeling 100% yet after, well, after everything... but by then she'd already knocked, and she could hear him moving around inside.

This wasn't York. That was Sam's first thought upon opening his eyes. The hotel room was a whole lot nicer than the motel room he'd had back in York. He didn't know whose motel room it was, but he knew that his bags were in the corner. Further inspection showed that his clothes were in the dresser. A look outside at the skyline and Sam just stopped and stared.

He'd climbed his way out of Hell because things were way off and those gates were starting to open. He'd seen an opening and taken it. Now? Now he had to wonder if all of that had just been some vision created by Lucifer to torment him. If so, then what was all of this supposed to be? That skyline didn't look like anything he'd ever seen in real life. In movies, sure. The buildings were just futuristic looking enough that the whole thing was a little surreal.

He grabbed a few of his guns and hurried out of the suite. He stopped long enough to check the other room, just in case Dean was there. It was empty, though someone's things were on the floor and they sure as hell weren't Dean's.

Maybe it had been awhile since he and Dean had stayed anywhere together, but that didn't mean that he hadn't hoped for it somewhat. Wherever this was, whatever this was, he had to find his brother. And he had to hope that this was somehow real and not some figment of his imagination or some Lucifer-created torment.

He fumbled in his pockets and found a phone that, again, he didn't recognize. It wasn't so sci-fi looking that he couldn't use it. In fact, he scrolled through the contact list and frowned at some of the names he didn't recognize-like Rob Winchester. Then he ignored all of that and dialed Dean's number as he made his way out to the hallway.

Jo was thankful for the phone and the contact list that came with it. It confirmed that the people she was most concerned about were likely to be here. It gave her a way to reach them all. She would be calling everyone soon, but for now she wanted to explore. It might have had something to do with the fact that she was still processing the things that Rob had shared with her about his reality and more importantly, who his parents were.

She would need to talk to Sam, and then they'd all need to talk to Dean. She didn't know how the discussion with Dean was going to go. It had to happen and she had no intentions of keeping this from him for long, but she wasn't optimistic about how he was going to take it. She was worried for Rob's sake as much as for her own. Things with them were already hard to figure out and this was just going to muddy the waters further.

So instead of seeking out anyone, she took to exploring the hotel they were in. It was definitely swanky. She didn't really know what to feel about that either. From what she could tell, room service was on the house for her room. She would assume that the others had the same deal. The aliens apparently wanted them well-fed and sheltered here. She just didn't know why and that bugged her.

Currently, she'd found her way down to the lobby and set herself up in one of the couches in a place that provided a vantage point where she could watch people come and go. It might give a few more clues about the world that they'd landed in, the people within it, and the culture.

Sam woke with a start, and found himself staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. He sat up, and was further disoriented to find that he was staring out a window at a city from high above, giving him a weird sensation of vertigo because of the simple fact that he'd no recollection of being so high off the ground. It passed quickly, thankfully, and he took stock of the room, relieved to see that it was far more modern than the medieval accommodations he'd gotten used to.

He had a phone, and even more importantly, running water. He tested the faucet in the bathroom, and turned it off, turning around to check out the shower-- after days of feeling ill and sore and dirty in more ways than one, there was almost nothing he wanted more in the world than the feeling of hot running water washing over him-- but stopped, going entirely still when he heard a noise. And then he realized something that he probably should have realized immediately: he wasn't alone.

There were many possibilities for who his company was. Most preferable was one of the members of his family, or at least one of the people from his group, and the chances of that were probably decent enough. But there were other, less nice possibilities as well-- the worst of which was the angel in a new vessel, also a distinct possibility, or even a native human of this new world who might have expectations of Sam that he wasn't prepared for. Thankfully, he had woken up still carrying the knife he'd acquired in the last world, so as not to be totally defenseless. Not that it would do him much good against an angel.

He had been moving quietly, except for turning on the water, but he had to assume that the other person-- or being, as it were-- was aware of his presence. All the same, he moved silently out of the bathroom and through the bedroom to the other door, which was closed. Standing with his back to the wall beside the door, he reached out and turned the handle to open it a crack, peeking out. He held the knife ready, in front of his chest, in case they came through hot.

But instead all he saw was a person, one that seemed vaguely familiar. He wasn't getting any hostile vibes right off, so he lowered the knife to his side, holding it carefully hidden behind his wrist and forearm as he stepped out. "So," he said, finding himself somewhat at a loss for words. Frankly, he'd have known better what to do if this was a hostile encounter. "Hi."

Jack had made some inquiries; it was what she did. She did it rather well while selling her wares. It took her some time, and since she seemed to have a good bit of it here, she didn’t feel all that rushed. Concerned, but not rushed. Not exactly.

Sam had worries, and being Sam’s friend, even if it was an odd alternate reality version fried, she was going to try to relieve some of those worries. Sure, he knew how to deal with generic angel, but he had a specific one to handle. So, Jack thought what better way to help than to get the boy some information.

One night, late towards closing time, Jack walked in to inn, dressed in darker than usual clothes but not so dark they’d catch too much attention. Sure, they were a little tighter, but that would be okay too she hoped. She sat down at a table and waited, an almost impish and pleased smile on her lips. Now, all she needed was Sam to show. Hopefully he didn’t have any plans for the evening.

( ---- )

Mary had spent the days after being approached by the angel avoiding her family. She wasn't sure yet if she wanted to tell them, even though she knew that she should. She was a little ashamed to admit that there was a part of her that really wanted to say yes. If it was as easy as saying yes and getting her life back the way it had been before the trip back in time to York and the hellmouth, if it was as easy as saying yes and knowing that Ellen and Johnny were okay... there was a part of her that would have said yes in a flash. The only thing stopping her right now was doubting that it would ever be that easy. Nothing with her family ever had and historically, they didn't have a lot of luck when making deals with angels or demons. She clung to that thought like a lifeline.

Eventually, she realized that she needed to get out and tell someone about the rogue angel on the loose in search of a vessel. She had a feeling that nobody in her family would say yes easily, and she also suspected that he'd go after the others until he found a way in. For whatever reason, the Winchester bloodline seemed ideal for possession.

She took a long walk around the small village to clear her head and try to gather up her thoughts and figure out what she was going to say and who she was going to say it to. It was possible that she wouldn't have much choice in that matter since Jo, Dean, and Sam were all staying at the pub. Rob was the only one who was elsewhere and while she was tempted to seek her brother out first, she thought that she should probably go for her parents and uncle.

When she finally figured out at least some of what she wanted to say, she headed toward the pub and let herself in. Once inside, she glanced behind the bar to see if Sam was there. Somehow, she felt that talking to him first might be a little easier than talking to her parents. They all understood loss and they all understood considering the wrong decisions for the right reasons, but it just... felt easier to talk to someone who wasn't her mom or her dad for this. She still hadn't done much talking about Johnny being missing at all, though enough that they knew that it was possible. And she hadn't brought up Ellen in ages because... well, she already knew that they felt as bad as she did about it. No point in rubbing salt in that wound.

Once she spotted Sam, she headed over to the counter and slid into one of the seats. She cleared her throat to get his attention.

"One tankard of mead, please," she said with an attempt at a smile.

Jack had finished a commission, if it could be called that: a simple box meant to keep a few personal secrets. There was place to put a lock, and the box was made of sturdy material. It would take a great deal to get inside the the secrets, but Jack didn't believe anything overly serious would be placed inside. It was meant for a child, or that was what she thought.

The hunter was more than a little disheartened when she discovered the box was meant for some lady's husband to keep his trinkets in. The way the woman had described her husband had left Jack with the impression the gift recipient was a young boy who liked to keep treasure, and she found that the "boy" was a man in his mid-forties who giggled and tittered and did not seem to mind being arm candy. In another setting, Jack might have found this display somewhat amusing, but in the end, it disgusted her. She was more than ready to get off this planet.

To cheer herself up, and possibly spend a little of the money she'd just made, she went in search of a certain tall fellow who just started his ride on the crazy train. She hadn't seen him since the party, and Jack thought he might be good for a little venting and drink.

Jack wasn't all that pleased to find Sam had taken to his bed. She asked for access to the large Winchester's room, and was somewhat surprised that she was allowed up.

"Sam?"

It had only been a few days since the Solstice Ball, but Annabelle found that she had a free afternoon--something she rarely had as the Queen's bodyguard--and she decided today was a good day to take Sam up on his offer to help her.

She hadn't had any major incidents since zapping him at the party, but that didn't mean that Annabelle was going to wait until she made someone have an aneurysm to work on her powers. She couldn't. That would put people's lives in danger.

And there was something else, too.

Since the ball, Annabelle had seen Lasher--and more than once. She'd see him only out of the corner of her eye, and then he'd be gone, but she knew he was there. She could feel that it was him, and she thought she could smell him, too. If Lasher was paying more attention to her, Annabelle had to know how to hold her own. She had to be ready, and she did truly believe what she'd told Simon a few worlds ago--that if she became strong enough, Lasher would come for her and either try to kill her or seduce her.

She wasn't afraid of him. She was just not ready.

So since the Queen was with her physicians all afternoon for her semi-annual health check, and since she had a few other guardswomen in the room with those physicians, Annabelle was free to do as she pleased.

It didn't take much work to find the inn, though it seemed a little empty. Annabelle supposed there weren't that many day or afternoon drinkers in a place like this. When she saw a young woman behind the bar cleaning metal mugs, Annabelle smiled and got her attention.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Sam," she said. "The innkeeper. Do you know where I can find him?"

The woman stopped cleaning the cup in her hand. She looked a little pale, and her eyes showed clear concern.

"Oh, mistress, he's not well," the girl said. Annabelle supposed 'mistress' had to do with her outfit, which, while not an out-and-out guard's uniform, did have a large pin on the front that was the Queen's seal.

"... he's not?"

Annabelle saw a shadow out of the corner of her eye but didn't turn to acknowledge it. The girl shook her blond curls. "No. I tried to fetch the physician for him but all are with the Queen today, and he wouldn't have it anyway. You might try reasoning with him, maybe he'll listen to a friend. Or Her Majesty's personal guard."

The girl told Annabelle which room was Sam's and that the key she'd put in her hand would open the door if Sam could not. With a sense of dread, Annabelle went up the stairs to the rooms and found the door.

It was locked, but Annabelle opened it.

( Spoilers for most recent SPN episode )

( spoilers for SPN 9x09 )

Sam had mostly acclimatized to this whole situation. He was almost, but not quite, used to living in medieval times-- used to the strangeness of everything else, the individuals in their 'group' that approached him every once in a while. He was almost even used to the strangest part of all, the simple fact that he was not alone in his own head. The angel hadn't caused him any difficulty since the spectacle of healing Rose, and even that hadn't been purposeful, so far as Sam knew. Ezekiel was, for the most part, quiet and dormant and barely noticeable, except when Sam attempted to reach out to him, mentally.

Of course, it was impossible to forget that he was there. Sam's mind was accustomed to the practice of reminding him what was wrong in any given moment: for years it had reminded him that he was demon-blooded, and then it had very literally taken the task upon itself to remind Sam of his time in hell, through hallucinations of the devil. Now, it kept him aware of the angelic consciousness inside him, which manifested largely in the fact that Sam felt good. Really good, really healthy, for the first time in longer than he could remember. He knew that he wasn't actually as healthy as he felt; if the angel left him now, he might not die, but he'd certainly be a lot worse off. It was more the angel's energy that was keeping him running, and every time he realized that, it reined him in, kept him from feeling too optimistic about the situation. But so far, he had no real reason to complain. The angel was keeping to the agreement.

Until one day while he was out in the town, completely out of nowhere, he suddenly felt a surge of angelic energy rising inside him. He started to struggle, but all the angel did was turn his head, forcibly directing his attention to a person that was down the street. Still conscious, Sam realized that he was being allowed to see what the angel was seeing-- not for the first time, and he stopped struggling for a moment to try to process the information. Angelic sight showed much more than his mind was entirely able to comprehend, though he was so fascinated by it that he'd been trying. And now Ezekiel was showing him something without being asked, so there had to be something important.

The person was human, male, and from a point in time ahead of Sam's, as well as a different reality. But there was something... something that Sam's mind was having trouble processing, though whether that was a translation between human and angelic mental processes or because of simple disbelief, he didn't know. He was fairly certain of what he was seeing, yet he didn't believe it. His mind objected, trying to rationalize it away, that the angel must be mistaken, or that he'd misunderstood what he was being shown.

And he realized, belatedly, that the angel had retreated back into his subconscious, leaving him back in control of his body and mind and still staring at the boy-- man, really-- that stood about a hundred yards away. He was still too stunned by the experience to move for a moment, and then he attempted to pull himself together, before starting to walk in the other man's direction. There was really only one way to find out if what the angel was trying to tell him was true or not.

But once he got closer, he found that he had no idea how to begin this conversation. "Hi," he said, a little awkwardly, unable to help the way his gaze was still searching the man's face for clues, though there was a lot less information to be had when he was looking through his own, human eyes. Still... there was an unnerving resemblance, and although he was thoroughly unsettled by the implications of it, Sam was determined to persevere. "Sorry, it's just-- I saw you at the ball, and I have the strangest feeling that I should know who you are. Do you know me?"

( 'You know, if you wanted to frighten the women away, you could just grow a beard and stop brushing your hair. You’d look like some Grizzly Adams wildman type. ' )

Mary knew that her Uncle Sam-or a version of her Uncle Sam was in town, courtesy of her mom. She also knew that he wasn't from her actual reality, though that didn't matter as much. What did matter was that he was family and she wanted to see him. She'd given it time to allow him the chance to catch up with her dad and get used to the idea that he had a sort of niece from the future running around. Jo had mentioned that he knew about her, so Mary knew that her turning up wouldn't be a surprise.

When she'd given it enough time, she dropped by the tavern that she knew he worked at. She even came bearing gifts. She'd gotten some fresh produce at the market. Or whatever they called it in this time and place. Either way, it was an assortment of fresh fruits and veggies. She could only assume that these were the sorts of things that flourished even in winter. Or a result of trade, perhaps. Whatever the case, she remembered that her uncle liked healthier foods and she thought that having something fresh to eat couldn't be a bad thing.

So she turned up with a sack in hand, as well as with a small present. It wasn't much-just a protection charm that she'd forged for him. But if the solstice ball was any indication, it was almost Christmas and after so long away from him, she really liked the idea of giving something to her uncle. She didn't expect anything in return. She just wanted to see him.

She dropped in on the bar and immediately her eyes searched behind the counter in the hopes that it would just be that easy. It wasn't like phones were a thing, so she couldn't have called ahead to check on him. All the same, she felt a little flash of nerves and regret that she hadn't tried to schedule something or give him a heads-up that she was coming. What if he didn't want to see her? What if it was all too weird? Then again, a family like theirs, there was no such thing as 'too weird.' So in spite of the case of nerves, she stayed where she was and waited until she caught sight of the person she'd come to see.

The doors of the palace were thrown open. The grand ballroom was decked out with silver and blue decorations, crystal snowflakes hung from the ceiling and the palace entertainers played merry tunes to greet the guests. The aromas of the feast wafted out the door and down the street. The Queen herself sat at the head table with the princess at her side. The princess didn't look entirely happy at the moment, though there was speculation that she wasn't the sort to settle down and the Queen had been the one to decide that now was the time for the princess to narrow her sights to one single suitor.

Most of the kingdom turned up in their finery. From lords and ladies to peasants, all could be seen dining and drinking and after dinner, dancing.

Those that were the abductees had been invited as well. The Queen had even arranged with the aliens to keep one, should the princess decide that she fancied one of the group that had come to temporary fill the open job positions. Oh, it had taken some diplomatic posturing, but it was her hope that those from other worlds might hold her princess' attention more than those native to this one.

After dinner, the princess stood at the edge of the dance floor as a line of gentlemen were introduced to her. Those who attended had more than the princess to focus on, however. The minstrel strolled through the crowd as he played, and various other entertainers were stationed throughout the ballroom. Wine flowed generously, which resulted in some of the guests sliding towards entertainment themselves.

Jo came to on a wall around what looked like a medieval city. On the outside, there was forest stretching out as far as they eye could see. And inside, there was a castle surrounded by houses of varying sizes. The further out from the castle and closer to the wall, the smaller and more humble the homes got.

It was perhaps a sign that Jo had almost gotten used to the whiplash world changes that she didn't panic right away. She had a gun in hand and chain mail over her clothing. She was actually better armed and protected than the last few worlds. That was a comfort. She looked out over the wall and at the watchman-or rather, watchwoman-that was just barely visible in a spot on top of the wall not too far from her.

So this was new, but she'd figure it out. She also had less worries about the people she loved because they'd been on each world. Of course, the islands had separated them but Dean had still been there and relatively safe. She was confident that she'd find them soon enough. She clearly had a job to do for now. She wasn't sure whose brilliant idea that was, but she put in her time and only left her spot when one of the watchwomen showed up to relieve her.

It was already night by the time she ventured into the village in search of her people and a place to stay. She wouldn't have said no to a tavern at this point either. She was a little impatient with the fact that some planets provided shelter and others just dropped them off with no hints as to where to go or not go to find a safe place to sleep for the night.

She found her way into an inn, hoping that she could at least get a beer-or some ale, whatever-and maybe a room, assuming she had the money for it.

It was just so bright.

The Doctor stepped backward, as though to get away from the brightness of the square. It was day time and there were torches at the foot of the platform he stood on, which he quickly realized was a stage. Based on the dress of the people standing there, watching him, waiting for him to do something, the Doctor placed the time period in at least a rough era, and wished he could be more exact with at least a decade, but he could not. Not right this second. Not without using the TARDIS or the Sonic. Not without talking to these people.

"Come on, get on with it!" one of the onlookers shouted. It was a woman with a disapproving face. It seemed, based solely on her expression, that she thought the Doctor stupid.

As he turned to look behind him, the Doctor could not blame her.

A large banner hung behind him, serving as a backdrop for the stage, and it read THE MAGICKAL ACTS OF JOHN SMYTH THE ADEQUATE, with a set of times listed after.

Adequate? That wasn't a ringing endorsement, was it?

Still, the Doctor smiled broadly and decided to enjoy this. "Right then! Pressing on!"

He rubbed his hands together with something like glee. He reached into his coat pocket, noticing that it was an ornate coat, not his leather jacket, and well patched on the inside, as though he'd had it quite some time, and removed the Sonic Screwdriver.

"For my next trick," he said, smirking, "with this wand, I will make that banner back there accurate!"