The Universe's Mixer

The frog had settled into the pond, believing that she would be forever a frog. She didn’t know of any way of changing back. There had been a few ideas, and she thought maybe if the little girl could talk to frogs, maybe she’d be frog no more. Only that wasn’t happening. She’d yet to find the little girl again, and that made more talking difficult.

It wasn’t an awful existence being a very large frog, but she kept waiting for the zookeepers to come and get her. She deserved to be in the Zoo, that was where all the big animals went after all. Her fingers, or toes actually, played at the water. She’d even gotten used to her new diet; as a frog, she liked dragon flies and certain fish. She didn’t know of any frog that ate fish, but she wasn’t just any frog, was she?

Fred felt lonely which wasn’t all that new, yet she didn’t like not being able to communicate with people, with anyone she wanted. She made soft sounds, some were sad, some were just for the noise.

( ---- )

Another day without her husband. She could feel him somewhere, close by yet so far away. The crone wondered what those kept away were thinking or feeling - she could get some hint of Eric, but he had become more of a constant buzz of emotional white noise. As if the City were trying to spare her somehow. He was there, but not...

She groaned softly at herself. Being the lost little woman was not what she was, and she wouldn't have any of it. With a determined hmph, she got out of bed, got dressed and headed out. There was one she'd cursed recently, and she was curious to see how he was coming.

The City had told her where he might be, and she didn't think twice of her desire to check the place out. It was her doing the job properly, or somewhat properly. The plan had been to head there, but the City kept moving around - more so than normal.

Finally with a soft stomp of her dainty foot - sandaled as it usually was - she stopped in front of a coffee shop. "That is enough. I will go see whom I wish." She could have done a small sweep of the City for her magic, or for the cursed one in question; she would have known then that the doctor was no longer in residence, but she was trying to do this the polite way?

Her brows furrowed a little as she felt a push from an unseen hand. Magic/instinct kicked in, and she started floating. Her brow rose, but rather than fight the invisible force, she floated where it guided. Surely the City knew that even with her change in heart, it might not be wise in making her do anything. The outcome was still unpredictable. Hopefully if someone was on the other end of this invisible path...they were ready for an angry sorceress.

Dean wasn't sure what to make of the calls he'd gotten recently. At first he thought they were just a joke, but when Fred didn't pick up, he became a little concerned. There seemed to be some large slimy purple beast in the brainy female's building. The first few people to call could see it in the window, looking as if either it were trying to mate with said window, get some sun, or escape - yes, this sounded like a bad joke.

The older Winchester would have accepted the calls as just weird jokes, but then there were others from Fred's actual building. They gave the woman's apartment number - they'd heard weird croaks and thumps. Dean's concern was growing, so he made the call. Or calls. Only one was answered, or someone picked up. Someone, something, it didn't matter. The person on the other end was not Fred Burkle.

He called Sam, picked him up from the Bunker, and drove over to Fred's place.

"I don't know what we're about to walk in on, but if anyone's hurt her..." He winced. "You know what I mean." It was easy sometimes to forget that Sam had been that 'anyone' at one time. Dean believed Sam wouldn't be again, not if Dean had anything to say about it.

By now, The City had watched many of its denizens celebrate this thing called 'Christmas' and it was beginning to understand it better. It was a time for fir decoration. A time for singing songs. A time for creamy or apple flavored beverages. There were also presents.

The presents were the most interesting things to The City. It understood that the presents were designed to be special. To be meaningful. To express care. And The City did care about its people. Very much.

This year, it decided that it would participate in this 'Christmas.' And it wanted to participate in a big way.

A Douglas Fir sprung up overnight, positioned in the heart of The City. It was huge, dwarfing most multi-level buildings, bedecked in oversized copies of the decorations that previous and current citizens had used on their own trees. The Christmas star dwarfed the moon in its brightness.

But what to do for presents? The City had seen that presents were supposed to be personal. They were supposed to be something that made sense for one to give to the other. But The City did not know how to give presents in this way. It tried to calculate what would be right for every citizen - and failed. At last, it decided that it would grant one wish to each citizen. Just one. And it would do its best to fulfill it in a personal way.

The pawnshops had been hit for a few nights now, even prior to that one particular announcement, but the oddity of the robberies didn't require attention until after the announcement. The Bat needed to act; there'd been too much silence, and the woman who wore the cowl, what it was, needed to hurt something, to right some wrong.

The pawnshops in each case were more or less intact after the robberies, and they didn't lose much in the way of money. No, what they lost were odd little things. The thieves knew what they were looking for and got just what they wanted. They didn't bother with more. A watch here, a cufflink there, a trombone with a broken slide. It made no sense, but the latest one had left a young woman hurt.

Janet had had her eye on the charm bracelet for some time, and she'd had every intention of buying it that day when the shop was attacked. She tried it on, and then one of the thieves asked her for it. Janet had been ready to pay for it, and now some masked stranger was demanding it from her. She didn't want to give up the bracelet, but the robber wasn't taking no, not even a let me think about it. The robber knocked Janet out and took the bracelet.

The Bat got the report and decided to stake out pawnshops. This particular night two happened to be in spying distance from a rooftop corner. The Bat perched and watched. Maybe tonight there would be some justice and pain. Something would be done.

Sam wasn't as close to some of the people mentioned in the KWIT City news announcement as some, but that didn't make him any less angry about it. Freaking Jesse... if this place could even take someone with his powers, then it was more powerful than Sam had given it credit for. He was angry at failing to save people yet again.

He also really needed to see his brother. Dean hadn't been among the listed missing, but that didn't stop Sam from needing to reassure himself that his older brother was alive and well. Sam knew that he was dependent to an extent that some might see as unhealthy, but Dean was the only person that he'd had at his side throughout this entire life and even through things that would chase away just about any other person on the face of the earth.

After the announcement, Sam sent Dean a text with the request to meet him. He even chose a bar. Drinking was a thing that should happen anyway and he might as well choose somewhere that had burgers and good beer on tap. Being in a public place might have been a plus at the moment too. If they were completely isolated, it might be easier to fly off the handle about the people that had been lost. Sam knew that at least Jen, Jesse, and Annie were important to Dean in some way or another.

He knew that he was perhaps being selfish in taking Dean away from his girlfriend who probably also was dealing with those losses, but he didn't much care just now. He wouldn't insist that he stayed out all night. Just a couple of beers.

Sam made it to the bar first and slid into the stool and ordered a drink. He didn't bother to wait for Dean. He just wanted to not be entirely sober. And while this wasn't normal for the younger Winchester, it wasn't unheard of. Particularly when faced with yet another failure. Even if it was outside of his power, that didn't matter. Failure to save people was failure to save people.

Unlike Dean, Sam didn't have a car in the City. Or at least not one that he could find anyway. It didn't bother him all that much usually, though he did miss the Impala from time to time since it wasn't like back home when the two brothers had practically lived in that car. Had, in fact, spent nights in the car when they hadn't had anywhere else to stay. Then again, he was still adjusting to just how different things were in the City. Still adjusting to caring about the differences now that his soul was back.

He didn't mind walking places, or depending on public transportation. Walking could certainly clear his mind at times. That was a plus. For the moment, he was looking into a potential case. Maybe it was nothing. Truthfully, he'd been coming up empty quite a bit in the last few weeks. He needed something to hunt, someone to help, something to do. He was retreating inside his head again and that was never a good place to be.

For the moment, he'd just hit a dead end and the potential werewolf turned out to be just a tomcat who liked ravaging dumpsters. Not nearly enough to inspire the rumors that a wolf was stalking the streets of the City.

Sam took a seat on a bench and sighed heavily as he pulled out his notebook to put a big, angry scratch mark through the last lead in this non-case. He didn't notice right away that there were a few students standing near the bench, presumably waiting for a bus. He was too wrapped up in his frustration at being idle.

There were things weighing on Jesse's mind. The state of the City seemed wrong, and the fact that Fred had come to ask him what might be going on worried him. He didn't know if he should look into it more himself, or if there were other people attempting to deal with the situation. He didn't particularly like the idea of delving into helping the City that personally in many ways. But in others, he knew that they couldn't survive without it being healthy.

But more than that, Jesse couldn't stop thinking about what he'd done to the Joker. Yes, it was a thing that needed to be done, he'd felt, and it was good for the citizens of the City. Dinah and the rest of them didn't have to worry about the maniac running rampant and hurting people. Then again, it was an act along the lines of what Jesse had sworn he'd never do. And he had left the man that way for some time now.

The rise of Blackgate Prison hadn't escaped his notice, either.

With his brain churning around these matters, Jesse made a stop to get a coffee and some donuts. He had it in his mind to visit Zoe at work and get her to have some nice sugary bad for her food.

He noticed when the door opened behind him, and glanced back to discover a familiar face. Jesse smiled a bit. He'd not seen the younger Winchester in some time. Given that fact, if he'd been less self involved, he might not have assumed that it was the same Sam Winchester he'd met previously.

"Hey there, Sam." he said casually, turning back to face front and debate what he was going to get.

Knowing that the computers in the Clocktower might never be the same after Fred and her team repurposed them, Sam couldn't help but feel a small amount of sadness. He'd also been emboldened to ask Dinah if he could use the database to see if he could find out anything about the Men of Letters society-to see if he could determine if it was something native to the City or if it was truly something from their world.

Dinah had agreed and given him an access code. He felt a little bit guilty and a little bit gleeful at being granted access to a superhero's command center.

It was still more than a bit awe-inspiring to enter that room and look at all of those computers. Sam couldn't help but wonder what else was in the database and if it somehow had connections to the database Batman had at the Batcave. After all, he'd read enough comics to know that Dinah and the Clocktower had certain ties to the Bat.

He'd brought a green tea and some snacks and was ready for a long night of research. He certainly didn't expect that anyone would need to Clocktower just yet. After all, Fred seemed like she was still getting her team together and getting all the plans in place first.

Fred hadn't headed right in to the building. She couldn't; it didn't seem right. She could have done it without upsetting anyone, but she didn't. She just stood there with a bag in one hand and a cup carrier in the other. Four cups of what had to be coffee set in the carrier; she thought this was a good way to thank Dinah, as well as the two fellows along with her. Dinah had warned Fred that Sam would be coming along. Fred didn't know if Sam was prepared to see her or not. She'd suspect so.

"Dinah, I need to use the computers to link up to the City and figure out what's wrong with it? I promise you'll be able to use it later. Probably. I'll figure out a way to fix it. Probably." Her brows furrowed as she worked on the way to ask permission to possibly cannibalize the Clock Tower's computers. She didn't want to do that, but there was a possibility, wasn't it?

The brainy female shifted her weight back and forth as she waited. There was a queasy feeling in her stomach. Sam was going to be there. She was going to ask for something awful without having a real idea of what might have to happen. She looked around and stood a little straighter as the Impala came around the corner.

She hadn't gotten much sleep, but she'd hopefully gotten enough to not look completely out of it.

Sam might have been happy to camp out in the Men of Letters bunker for months discovering all of the secrets within. They'd started out slowly, just in case there were traps. Room by room and so far each room was a marvel. The least exciting place was of course the dormitories and Sam had almost immediately started to move his things in there. The other apartment might have belong to a Sam, but it had never felt like his. He'd dropped into it just like he'd dropped into a life with people who had interacted with the other version of himself. The version that had never lost his soul, never hurt people that he shouldn't have.

In spite of his desire to just hole up in the bunker, life on the outside continued. There were still things to be hunted, still people to be helped. This was a small way to try to atone for the things he'd done.

Currently, they were traipsing through an old house in search of a potential ghost. Of course Dean had called him in on it but there was an extra body involved in this hunt. Sam liked Dinah, but that didn't mean that he was thrilled with the fact that he'd suddenly become the third wheel to what he could only term was the least romantic date ever.

He pulled ahead just a bit and waited for Dean to catch up with him, hoping that they were out of earshot of the superheroine.

"Dean," he said in a furtive whisper. "What is she doing here?"

After all, ghosts weren't exactly in the Black Canary's wheelhouse. She didn't even have a gun. She had a container of salt, but that was about it. Even Jo had been better equipped on their first outing.

Sam carried the key that he'd found with him whenever he went out. Just in case. He'd done some research on the symbol carved into the key and had found mostly rumors and speculation and nothing concrete. He still didn't know why the City had left it for him or what he was supposed to do with it, but he was intrigued.

Unfortunately, his research was just leading to further questions. Which was why Sam took to long walks around the City. If it wanted him to do something with the damn key, it'd show him the place, right? Maybe.

He was just about ready to turn around and go home when he spotted the doorway. It looked like an underground bunker or something. He couldn't help but wander a little closer since he hadn't seen this particular doorway before. Upon closer inspection, he saw a symbol carved on the handle that matched the symbol on the key.

Sam's breath caught with excitement and he tried not to get his hopes up too much as he fished the key out of his pocket and tried it.

His jaw dropped ever so slightly as the key worked and the door pushed open. He moved forward onto a balcony overlooking what could only be described as a war room. It had a switchboard, a ham radio, and a telegraph. As he moved further in, he spotted a room lined with books off of the circular war room. He was naturally drawn to the books and started to investigate. It was only once he looked a little bit that he realized that this was the sort of library he could get lost in.

"What is this place?" Sam murmured as he traced the titles of tomes thought long lost and those that he'd never even heard of on everything from demons to werewolves to just about every other piece of mythology he could imagine.

He finally started looking at the card catalog, which was extensive. And next to that was a membership roster. Sam opened it up and saw the same symbol with the title "Men of Letters." He silently scanned the membership roster, though he wasn't sure why. It was only when he came to a familiar name that he stopped, blinked, and then stared at the page until the letters no longer seemed to make sense.

Henry Winchester.

His dad hadn't talked much about their grandfather except to mention that he'd left when dad was young. But he had mentioned the name. Henry. Was this a coincidence? Or a trick of the City?

All Sam knew was that he wanted to share this with his brother. This place seemed filled with questions and together they could maybe find some of the answers. Sam took out his cell phone, fully expecting to have to step outside to make this call. After all, an underground bunker wasn't the best place to make a call. He was surprised when he saw that his phone had full signal in here. Not wanting to question it for now, Sam dialed the phone and waited for Dean to pick up.

Sam was slowly starting to return to the world. He'd spent enough time living in his guilt and he knew that he couldn't wallow forever. Going on the hunt with Dean had been a start. Of course, that had led to more questions and time spent researching the symbols on that key and trying to understand what it could lead to, if anything. There were bits and pieces that he was turning up that were very interesting and very soon there needed to be a search of the City, possibly with Dean as company if his older brother agreed.

For now, Sam needed aspirin. He'd been having a lot of nightmares and while the self-loathing part of him thought that maybe this was some form of penance, he knew that he needed to be able to function if he was going to get back to being a contributing member of society.

Assuming that he'd ever been that. Not officially, at least. All the same, he wanted to get back to doing things that gave his life a little bit of meaning. Which meant that the splitting headaches had to go.

That was how Sam found himself wandering the aisles and rather blankly looking at all of the selections as he debated if the headaches were migraines or tension headaches.

Sam had been doing a lot of research on the symbol on that key, but without much luck yet. He didn't want to take a break-in fact, he really wanted to keep going until he found something because it felt important and it felt good to have something to focus on. No, he didn't want to stop looking, but he realized that he couldn't put off the apologies that needed to be made any longer.

The syrup leftover from that gift basket from Fred and the accompanying card that Dean had tried to hide were still in the kitchen. A hot surge of guilt lanced through him every time he spotted those reminders. He felt as though the guilt was deserved, but he also knew that he needed to do more than beat himself up. He needed to at least try to mend fences.

Sam stared at the phone in his hand. Fred's number was in there, of course. He looked at it, then set the phone down and paced the room for a few minutes. He came back to the phone, paced again, and repeated this two or three times. Finally, he snapped up the phone and hit send before he could talk himself out of it.

Dean couldn't believe the crap they were dealing with, and he couldn't believe just how good it felt to be digging through said crap with his little brother, soul and all. It wasn't something he'd done in a while, or at least something he'd felt good about or right about. There had always been something missing. That look or that feeling had been gone, and now it was back.

They'd had to clean up a small ghost problem at one spot. Had to explain away a situation in another. They'd even pulled out the FBI badges, that actually said "CBI" but who was paying that much attention. They hadn't used every trick in the book, but quite a few to get where they thought the bastard was hiding.

The docks. The boys had been to the docks, or dock like area, and on at least one occasion had seen Sam possessed. That wasn't the case now. Nor were they dealing with vampires - though that had been more of a mill. Either way, Dean couldn't exactly hide the smile or the grimace when he thought of his brother; he was torn. He was glad Sam was back to normal or as normal as the Sasquatch got, but he wasn't glad that Sam was caught here. That he'd have to deal with the guilt. They'd have to have a talk about a particular death soon, but right now...right now they'd hunt demon and do what they were raised to do.

"This is it." The older Winchester motioned to a warehouse. "Why's it always warehouses?"

Sam had spent long enough hating himself. Oh, he still hadn't forgiven him self for the things that he'd done without a soul, but wallowing wasn't the way to handle it. He woke up one morning and realized that he needed to be doing something. He needed to get out there and try to make amends.

That meant getting back to hunting, and getting to a point where Dean didn't feel like he had to babysit all the time.

The first thing Sam did was head out to the corner store to buy a newspaper. It was strange leaving the house for the first time in days, possibly even weeks. The sunlight was harsh after sitting in the half-darkness of his apartment for so long, but it also gave him a small sense of hope. Maybe he could start over. Maybe he could make up for the things he'd done.

Sam returned home before the usual time when Dean would come over in the morning. He didn't look at the paper right away. Instead, he took out the waffle maker and waffle mix and started to make breakfast. It was partially a thank you to Dean for being there, and partially a way to show his older brother that he was on the way to okay.

Once the waffles had been cooked, Sam settled in with the paper and started to look for any stories that might point to something that they could hunt.

Sam knew that he couldn't wallow in self-loathing forever. As much as he thought he deserved it, the people around him deserved better. He needed to find a way to make things right. Dean left mid-day for the first time since Sam had gotten his soul back. Sam took that as a good thing-his brother needed to do more than just hang around here. Dean deserved better than that.

The younger Winchester realized, with some surprise, that he was hungry. He hadn't really been thinking about food much over the last few days, though his brother had kept him fed. Well it was now lunchtime and his stomach was growling.

He frowned at the odd gift basket of... waffle mixes and syrups? Who sent that sort of thing? And why would they send it?

He wondered if it was something Dinah had sent to make sure that Dean wasn't going hungry over here. He didn't think on it much further and didn't touch the gift basket that he was sure wasn't his. Instead, he started looking through the fridge for something easy to make. Eggs seemed like they could work. Of course, eggs meant needing a spatula and Sam wasn't even sure he owned one. He started looking through the drawers of the apartment that had belonged to a different Sam before him-a better Sam, from what he knew. At least one that hadn't gone around trying to kill people. It was the second drawer that he tried where he found the card that had been stashed in there.

So I heard you got your soul back...

He stared at the words and then at the signature accompanying the words. For a second, he wondered if there was some other Fred that would be sending a card. Because why would that Fred want anything to do with him at all?

Sam closed his eyes and set the card down, trying not to think about the flashbacks that had haunted him both while he slept and was awake. He remembered Fred. He remembered that she'd been nice to him upon his arrival in the City, though at the time she hadn't realized that he was a different Sam, hadn't realized that he was empty inside.

Worst of all, he remembered hurting her. He remembered chasing her down, shooting her. Burning her building and leaving her for dead. Hot tears stung at his eyes and he was a little glad that Dean wasn't around to see that, that he didn't have to answer the questions that might accompany those. He stuffed the card back in the drawer and went back to his place on the couch. He was no longer hungry. Instead, he just sat and buried his face in his hands.

Dean was reluctant to let Dinah go off with Fred, but they both knew what had to be done. Or something like that. He gave her one more kiss, silently promising that he would return to her, before he let her go. Slipping into the Impala, he followed the women for a few blocks before turning another corner and heading to Sam's apartment.

It was strange that they lived in real places, or as real as the City allowed. The brothers had few opportunities to live in one spot for long, and when they did, it was usually after something very bad happened. Dean had lived with Lisa only after making a promise to Sam, only after Sam had sacrificed himself. Sam had lived with Jessica for how long when he decided to leave his family and become a regular boy - a college student? They had become isolated, yet here in the City, they didn't have to be so separated. So, why were they?

Because Sam wasn't himself.

No, it was more than that. Probably, possibly. Dean wasn't going to let himself think about it right now. He was good at avoiding the whole thinking thing. He was damn good, and right now he was going to have to act, in more ways than one.

Along the way, Dean had picked up a bucket of chicken, a six pack, and a pie. He'd also made sure he had rope - the kind they sold to survivalists and worrywarts, it collapsed down to seemingly nothing - and a good bit of holy water. He'd hidden away a silver blade or three in his jacket, and he was ready. Or as ready as he could be.

A few minutes after getting out of the Impala, the older Winchester stood at Sam's door and knocked.

Fred seemed to have relaxed a little since she was finally let out. The lights weren't coming on, and she was a little concerned. Yet, the City seemed to be working normal other than that. It was probably another test. She was aware enough, remembered enough, to know that the City liked to test the captives.

She had bought the cop, who was pretending to be her friend out on the town, a cupcake on the mayor's dime. Fred didn't have any dimes, so she was agreeing to borrow a few of the mayor's. She would pay it back because those dimes were more the City's dimes than the mayor's? Plus, it was her friend Jack, not the mayor who was letting her borrow the dimes. But, a few dimes to get a nice woman who was working a strange shift by guarding a near nobody a cupcake wouldn't hurt, right?

The plan had been to get more clothes, some shoes, some night things. The quick trip out with Jack had gotten her enough to cover two days if that. There was only so much washing clothes should take after all.

"Thank you, Caroline. I really appreciate-" Anything else she was going to say was cut off as something bum rushed the brainy female, taking her away into a poorly lit alley. Caroline who had drawn her guy was the next attacked and whisked down the alleyway.

After finding out that Fred was okay, Sam had made his way to the hospital. He wanted to talk to the woman that he'd tried to kill and make sure that she actually did have those supposed memory issues. He had to make sure that she couldn't spill the beans on the fact that he'd tried to kill her or perhaps on what she'd read. The book would have burned in the fire, so as long as Fred's memories were gone, then that knowledge could stay buried.

There was a low level of frustration when he discovered that Fred wasn't currently in the hospital. In fact, Fred had been allowed out on an outing. The nurse that he spoke with didn't seem too thrilled with giving the information but apparently the man who was watching out for Fred had left a contact list and the Winchesters and Dinah had all been on it.

That was a good thing, Sam thought. It would make it easier to keep tabs on her. He thanked the nurse and then headed to the park. It was a big park, but he had the patience to comb the place thoroughly while seeking out his prey.