Disturb The Sound Of Silence - Chapter One - In which there's a crack and the Winchesters get a job
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Disturb the Sound of Silence
During a dream extraction three years ago, Dean lost Cas mysteriously. Now, someone who calls himself a Time Lord claims that he can bring him back, if Dean and Sam perform an inception on another Time Lord called the Doctor. To help him with the almost impossible task, Dean hires Sherlock, John, and Molly to his team. Together with the Time Lord, they embark on a journey taking them deeper and deeper into the Doctor's mind. Soon they realize that it's not a place one wants to be.
~ ~ ~
Chapter One - In which there's a crack and the Winchesters get a job offer
“9,700, 9,800, 9,900, 10,000,” Dean counted before he bundled the bills together, wrapping a rubber band around them and stuffing the money into his jacket pocket. “It's all here. Nice doing business with you.”
It had been a simple case, as simple as dream extraction ever gets. There were, of course, always things that could go wrong, but most of the time they knew how to deal with it. Sam and Dean Winchester had been in the business of stealing information from people's dreams for ten years now, following in their father's footsteps. It wasn't something they bragged about, but they were one of the best teams out there. Someone had once mentioned that it was because of their brotherly bond, but Dean didn't know.
After all, they had been even better when there had been three of them. Dean’s hand twitched a little at the thought as he stretched it out to shake his former employer's hand. He steadied it and gave a firm shake as well as a smile. Part of this business was to seem invincible, and really, he couldn't go on about something that happened over three years ago in front of a possible source of further money.
Only, Dean couldn't forget about what had happened, and that was the reason Sam was standing at the door, mouth still a tight line. He kept rubbing a particular spot on his lower right arm even if the skin there was clear. Dean knew why he did it and perhaps it caused him to squeeze a little too hard because his employer quickly withdrew his hand.
A few more polite phrases were exchanged and then Sam and Dean were leaving for the motel up the street. The walk there was blissfully short in the cold Chicago night. Soft, white puffs of air escaped their mouths, and Dean dug his hands into his pockets and kept his chin as deep down in his collar as possible.
He knew that Sam wasn't going to let the matter with his arm and what had caused it go, but both brothers were quiet as they hurried down the street. When they made it into the heat of the lobby to claim their room key, Dean looked back at Sam. His brother only gave a single shake of his head and then a nod signalizing to “get up to the room.”
They climbed the stairs, unlocking a room on the third floor. It looked decent enough with a flat screen TV, a sofa, a mini-bar, and most importantly, two nice-looking beds. Dean wanted to drop dead on one of them, but he refrained from curing his tiredness for the moment.
Sam removed his laptop from its bag, plugging it into the wall as Dean opened his own bag to retrieve a t-shirt to sleep in. His back was turned against his brother, but even then, he could hear the deep breath Sam took, as he readied himself for what was about to come.
“Dean,” Sam finally said then, killing of the silence that had hung between them. “This can't continue. You need to do something about him.”
Dean's jaw clenched and he avoided Sam’s gaze, which he felt burning on his neck. He knew that Sam was bound to talk about it, especially after what happened. That didn't mean he needed to like it. He stayed crouched down on the floor, one hand inside his bag.
“I mean,” Sam continued, and Dean heard him walking towards him. “I know how much Cas meant to you...”
“Means,” Dean interrupted. He stood up and turned around to face Sam then. “You know how much he means to me. He's not dead.”
Sam frowned, opening his mouth to say something he regretted, but he kept quiet. Dean had a hunch about what it had been about, but no matter what Sam, or anybody said, he wouldn't believe that Cas had died during that day three years ago.
~Three years earlier ~
Even back then, people had been calling them a family business. Dean and Sam was brothers, and well, Dean and Cas... Dean had never considered himself for the type who settled down and started a family. Then he had met Cas and he had, to his own surprise, questioned his own lifestyle, thinking of doing the exact thing he said he’d never do. Luckily enough, Cas was just like Dean, and together they explored the dreams. Sam called them married just to spite them, but truth was...
Dean didn't do sappy, chick-flick things. That being said, he fucking loved Cas more than anything in the world. The time he spent with him was the best in his life, and when Dean, Cas and Sam went down in the absolutely fantastic world of dreams together? If only Dean had been able to freeze time when they had been that happy.
It had been a normal job, the three of them hired to extract information from a oil corporation so that one of their rivals would have a better shot at the big money. The man they had found wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, and it had been really ridiculously simple to find the safe in his mind and get the information out of it. Dean still remembered how he had wondered how the man in question could be so high up in a big company's food chain.
They had just been waiting for the time to run out then, avoiding the projections that were as stupid as the man himself. After all, they were a part of his subconscious. They had been laughing. It had been one of the hardest things to believe in the beginning: how they had been able to laugh when such a terrible thing was just about to happen. Nowadays, Dean understood that they couldn't have known anything about it, couldn't have done anything to prevent it. He still ooked back at that last moment, Sam, him and Cas, just laughing at some corporate dude's stupidity.
The first thing they saw was light. It was a bright, almost blue, light, and by one look at Sam's face, Dean knew that it wasn't supposed to be there.
“What the...” Dean said as he turned to his brother. “Sam, what is that supposed to be?”
Castiel had stood up, his frown firmly in place. He took a few tentative steps towards the light source, a hand reaching out before him. Dean didn't like what was going on. Sam was a good architect, one of the best he had worked with, and if something could break through the safe house he had created, it was powerful. He was just about to say that to Castiel when the light expanded.
It wasn't just light anymore. It was a crack, a crack in what seemed to be the air itself. It hung suspended in the air, still giving off the same strong, blue light.
“Cas, I don't...”
The rest of the sentence got stuck in Dean's throat as beams of the light shot out, circling themselves around Cas's body like jungle lianas. They moved around his arms, legs and torso, gripping tight enough for Cas to hiss out. Then, they started pulling.
Cas's head snapped around then, his blue eyes blown out of proportion. They were looking straight towards Dean and the absolute terror in them only worsened when he tried to reach a hand towards the extractor. He couldn't though, the strings of light holding him down.
“Dean,” he said, as if he was out of breath. “Dean.”
Then he was gone. The light lianas pulled him into the crack without any further words and as soon as he had passed, it snapped shut with one last flash of blinding light. When Dean opened his eyes, adjusting to the shock of the flash, Castiel had disappeared. The crack had closed again, not leaving a single trace behind to confirm it had ever been there. To be honest, Dean couldn't care less about the crack if it hadn't taken Cas with it. It had taken Cas.
Forgetting all about discretion in front of the projections, Dean scrambled to search every inch and corner of the house Sam had designed. His brother was right beside him, telling him all the nooks and short-cuts where Cas could have gone. It wasn't a very large building and soon they ran out of places to look.
Dean was breathing heavily, demanding that they should go another round, because maybe they had missed something and for god's sake, Sam was the fucking architect, he should know where Cas had went. Sam too had been distressed, but had kept his head cool, like he always did when Dean couldn't. He knew the place by heart, knew that they had looked everywhere.
Their time was almost up too as the song playing in the background told them. All around them, the dream begun to collapse. Dean wouldn't let go of it though, trying to go deeper into the chaos. Sam had to drag him away until they both woke up on a motel room, gasping for air like they had been drowning.
Dean's eyes had immediately turned to the bed where Cas was supposed to rest. It was empty. Becky, the girl who was supposed to keep control of them as they slept was almost jumping up and down, her eyes brown wide. Her face was pale and Dean didn't want to know what had caused it. It didn't matter what he wanted though, because as soon as she saw that they were awake, she began to scream in a high-pitched voice.
“Sam! Dean! He was here just a second ago! A weird, I don't know what... A crack! A crack opened itself and it took him! I'm so sorry, they took him!”
Dean screamed then, turning to hit the button on the PASIV device. He needed to get back in. He needed to get Cas back. Sam wouldn't let him, rambling on about the danger and how they needed to get out of there before the oil man woke up again. Dean wouldn't back down though, and Becky had to pack the device back into the suitcase while Sam held Dean down, finally dragging him out of the room.
They already had an arranged meeting set up with their employers as to deliver the information and claim the money. Dean had rushed in to the office, head over heels, demanding to know just what the fuck they had done to Cas. It wasn't part of the design, nor the oil bigwig's defense, so it had to be them.
Sam, just a few steps behind his brother, had managed to grab a hold of him before Dean connected his fist to the man with the money's face. The man's bodyguards had tensed at the crazy extractor, and it took a long while before Dean calmed down enough to listen to their employer's claims of innocence. Dean didn't say another word to him after that, and Sam had to deal with the remaining business.
“Dean,” Sam had begun when they walked out to the street, the money tucked safely into Sam's pocket. Dean wouldn't have any of his brother's condescending words though, and just lifted a hand to interrupt his as he scouted for the closest bar. Dean didn't leave until closing time and then he went looking for one with 24/7 opening times.
He stayed at the bottom of various bottles for a week, two weeks, before Sam kicked his ass in gear and told him to man up. They had a lot of work to do, and Dean couldn't just drink Cas away. A heated discussion had followed then, with both of them shouting loud enough for the neighbors to slam on the wall, telling them to shut up. They had been quiet then, because Dean had walked out of there and back to the bar where he stayed for another week.
What finally drew him out was the offer of a job. He, or rather they, as Sam and him were known for never working apart, had gotten several of them when Dean had judged himself too busy courting the whiskey bottle.
It was the first time Dean entered an unnatural dream since Cas had vanished. Dean refused to say 'died' and his brain supplied him with words like lost, vanished, disappear, vague terms that could mean anything really. He said those words because they meant he could get Cas back. No one could bring someone back from the dead, but if the person just was lost, temporarily gone... Well, that was a completely different matter. Cas was just lost for now, and Dean was going to find him and bring him back into his life.
He had formed the plan after a night out with Johnnie Walker, but even now, the morning after, it didn't seem all too bad. He would go into the dream and he would search for Cas. You looked for missing things where you had seen them last. Dean doubted very hard that he would see Cas walking around the street corner, but in a dream? Not everything was because dreams were bound by laws, however it was looser than the real world. But, if there was going to be a place to get Cas back, the dream world would be it.
Sam wasn't too convinced that they should take the job. Dean was hardly sober and no matter how hard he tried to hide it, he was devastated. Somehow, Dean managed to convince him and together, they fell a sleep connected to the PASIV.
Dean.
Dean looked over his shoulder, forehead knitted together. He was sure he had heard someone calling his name. It was probably just the wind though, not a far fetched idea seeing where they were currently standing.
The building must have been over twenty stories high, and where they stood on the roof, the wind was strong. Dean was careful not to step too close to the edge, should a strong gust decide to push him off the edge. It wouldn't kill him of course as they were in a dream, but waking up by the kick you got from falling of the face a skyscraper would be inconvenient.
Dean.
Dean tried to ignore the echoes. He closed his eyes for a second, shaking his head as if that would get rid of the sound. The sound that sounded all too much like Cas's voice.
“Dean, are you okay?”
Sam put a palm on Dean's shoulder. The pressure made Dean regain his focus and he snapped out of his state of mind. It was just his mind playing trick with him. It was just the remaining alcohol in his blood that was repaying him for fucking up his body. Because that sound was just the wind, and not Castiel's pleading voice.
Dean.
Dean went rigid again and Sam asked once more if he was alright. But Dean wasn't, because that was when he saw him.
Cas was wearing the same thing he had on in the dream when he had... disappeared, but the look on his face wasn't right. His blue eyes were blown with something that Dean could only describe with utter desperation and torment. A great lump was growing in his throat when he saw him and without even thinking about it, he pushed all notions of Sam's shouts, the strong wind and the rest of the dream to the side. All he thought about was the steps that shortened the distance between him and Cas.
“Dean, please, help me.”
Dean reached out for him, desperate to make the look on Castiel's face vanish. Dean didn't have a chance to touch him though, when Cas flickered, like an old TV-screen. Without any further ado or words, he disappeared. Again.
Dean went straight back to the bar as soon as he was able to leave the dream, and there he stayed for yet another week. Sam never said anything about it, not about the job they had left undone, and not the fact that Cas had been there. A few days later, however, he was able to drag Dean out of there and into another job.
Cas wasn't there that time. Dean wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. He didn't have to worry about messing up the job because of the distraction. All the same though, he couldn't help but want Cas there, even if it was just a shadow of the man. But he didn't need to worry, because Cas returned.
* * *
Three years later and Dean still didn't have a clue on how to get Cas to stop appearing in his dreams, nor how to get him to return to him in real life. Sometimes it would go weeks, or maybe even a month, and Dean could dream without encountering Cas. He thought then that he was finally gone. It was a bitter-sweet feeling, but soon, that too was gone as Castiel once again appeared in his dream, looking at him with pleading eyes as he begged Dean to help him.
Cas had been there during the last job too. He had been standing just outside Dean's reach, always a foot away, even when Dean stepped towards him. He had been rambling, asking Dean over and over again to help him. To get him out of there. Dean.
Dean had snapped his eyes shut for just a moment, trying to concentrate enough to cancel the perception of his boyfriend, but of course to no avail. It lead to another thing though, the thing that had caused Sam to have this discussion in the first place.
Dean had let his guard down, focusing too much on Cas and too little on what was happening around him. The target's perceptions had noticed him as he tried to will Cas away, drawn in by his unusual actions. They had circled them quickly, gathering in numbers as they continued welling out from the side streets. One of them had wielded a knife and gone for Sam; Sam whom Dean was supposed to protect if his mind hadn't been occupied elsewhere.
If you die in a dream, you wake up. It was one of the most simple rules when it came to dream sharing. It was secure and even offered a last escape route. But, pain. Pain is in the mind, and the mind is what is dreaming.
The knife didn't go into Sam's heart, but into his arms and shoulders. Several stabs followed each other and the sickly squishing noise made Dean return to the situation playing out before him. They made it out of there easy, but Sam was a bleeding mess, cursing every time he brushed against something as they advanced further into the dream to get the necessary information.
So, after what had happened during this particular job, it wasn't very strange for Sam's patience to run out. Dean knew that it wasn't healthy for him to keep seeing Cas. As an extractor, as someone dealing in dreams, the need to keep track of reality was more important than ever. He had a totem, like anyone who knew what they were doing, but would that be enough if he kept imagining Cas?
So far, his boyfriend had never taken the step out of the dream void and into Dean's real life. He feared for that day, for the day he was bound to go insane. Dreams were not the safest of places, never mind the romantic picture of them you had as a kid.
“Look, Sam, I know that it's gotta stop, but what the hell am I supposed to do?” argued Dean. “I am trying to keep him back. I know how to handle my subconscious, but I don't have any control over his projection at all. So what do you suggest we do about it?”
Sam opened his mouth, but he didn't have time to utter a word before something happened. Dean wasn't really sure how to describe it, because essentially, nothing happened. He felt a slight nauseous sensation in his stomach, not very unlike the one you get by riding a roller coaster. Then the room shifted, and the two of them stood, not in the cheap motel room, but somewhere certainly different.
They were in some kind of laboratory, or workshop. The stench of harsh chemicals was overwhelming and all around them, benches covered with plastic tubes and strange metallic contraptions stretched out. Wires hung from the roof as they connected into machines with for Dean unknown functions. It didn't matter what kind of laboratory they were in, because the important fact was that they certainly weren’t in their hotel room.
How had they traveled here this fast? Dean tried to remember if something more had happened before he arrived here, other than the argument he and Sam had been in the middle of. Had they been interrupted, abducted? Had someone drugged them and connected them to a PASIV device? Was this a dream?
He reached inside his shirt, feeling the pendant that hung around his neck in a leather cord. It was the right shape, the right weight and it even had that small nick on the back that Dean had left many, many years ago. From the corner of his eye, he could see Sam's hand slipping into his pocket. He was probably thumbing the silver bracelet that rested there, one of the few momentum they had left of their mother and Sam's totem. From the look on his brother’s face, it seemed like he had gotten the same results Dean had, which in turn meant one of two things.
If he was in a dream, someone knew about his totem which was as far from good they could come really. If it wasn't a dream, something was still very strange and wrong. Dean wasn't sure which of the two scenarios he preferred.
“Welcome to Utopia, humans,” a voice called out to them then.
Both Winchesters spun on their heels, trying to distinguish the shadow in the dark which was moving towards them. It was a man, or at least something that looked like a man. Dean wasn't sure what to make of the 'human' part of his greeting.
He was shorter than both Dean and Sam, dressed in dress trousers, a white shirt and a rumpled suit jacket. His dirty blond hair became distinguishable as the light hit his face, showing his great smirk.
“Don't bother with your small trinkets, boys. I have no intention of stealing them as they serve their purpose. This is not a dream. This is a job offer.”
Dean's back straightened at his words. The majority of his employers wanted the fact that they were hiring extractors kept very shush-shush. He had been part of staged kidnaps before, but this was a new low. The other times, he had had the chance to fight back instead of being zapped to a bizzaro lab.
“And you just thought dragging our asses to god knows where was the way to go about it? I'm sorry to say that we don't just do deals with anyone.”
The man hushed him, shaking his head with sounds of 'tsk, tsk'.
“If you need to know only one thing about me, it's this: I am not anybody. To be true, you have never met anyone like me. Just like you never have done a job like the one I'm proposing. Inception,” he finished with, pronouncing the world clearly, articulating each syllable.
Dean looked at the man, an eyebrow hooking upwards. Was this guy for real?
“So you're asking us to trust you out of nowhere, accept your job offer and perform inception on some dude?”
The blond pulled a face, his head nodding from side to side as he gave a slight shrug. “And well, he's not exactly human.”
“In the way that you aren't exactly human?” Sam asked, eyeing the man from his head to his feet.
Dean's head snapped from their possible employer to his brother. Had he really said that? The man didn't seem all too bothered, as he burst out laughing.
“Good work, Sam,” he laughed, a sound that disturbed Dean deep in his core. “Not all pick up on that little detail. At least one Winchester has a little smart. I'm a Time Lord, an alien if you will have it, humans. So is the target. He goes by the name the Doctor and to be honest, it's time something is done about the tedious man. Which is, well, where you two come into the picture.”
“So really,” Dean said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “give me one good reason why we should risk everything to do inception on some odd alien.”
“It's an unusual job, I know, so in turn the payment shouldn't be just money. Say, Dean, how would you like to get your dear Castiel back?”
It was said so casually that Dean almost didn't register the words. But, of course Dean heard him, because he said Cas's name, and even more: he had offered a way to get him back. It took a long while before Dean could do anything else but just look at the alien, trying to process just what he had said.
“How do I know if you really can do it? No one else I have found has been able to open the crack again.”
“Dean-o, Dean-o, didn't we already state that I'm really not just anyone? And you know I will be able to get him back. I got you here, and that was child's play. I can get a man out of a time stream.”
Dean didn't say anything, but he didn't let the Time Lord go with his eyes. Apparently that was a sign good enough as he continued talking. He smiled a little, knowing that Dean would take the job. And how could he not? Even if there was just a little chance of getting Cas back, Dean would dive into the dreams of a million aliens.
“You will be given full access to the Doctor's files at UNIT. They know a little, but the most important thing is: Don't trust him No matter what he says or does, don't trust him. As for the rest of the job, you do what you do best. Hire as many people as you want. I can offer them money too, if they want, but I suspect that you won't be able to convince anyone to do this job for money. As for the actual job...”
He reached inside the pocket of his suit jacket to withdraw a small piece of paper. It was normal lined paper that seemed to have been torn out of a ordinary notebook. The only unusual thing about it was the considerable amounts of time it had been folded over and over again.
“Place this in the heart of his dream, but whatever you do: don't look at it. I am serious.”
Dean nodded, only once before he accepted the piece of paper. The Time Lord's grip around it was strong, and he even had to pull a little to make him let go of it. In the background he saw how Sam tensed up as he took on the job. Dean understood him, but he needed to take the chance if it would bring him Cas back. Sam would be able to bitch at him when they got back to the motel room.
“Now, for your own sake, I hope we will not be seeing more of each other. Just, you know, do your job. Ta-ta.”
* * *
“Inception, Dean,” was the first thing that made it out of Sam's mouth the moment they were back in their motel room. “What were you thinking? There's a reason why no one tries it: it's impossible!”
Dean glared at his brother, but Sam answered with the same coin, not giving up his frown.
“You don't think I know that? It's just... You don't know how it is for me, okay? Do you think I like seeing him in every dream?” said Dean. “Do you think I like seeing the shade of him when I know I can't get the real thing back? I have tried everything else, you know I have. I just need to try this, because if... if it works, I can have Cas back.”
“You have said that before, Dean. And I hate to break it to you, but it hasn't worked yet. I miss him too, don't you get that.? It's hard for me to see you break down because of someone we both cared about.”
“I'm gonna do this, Sam,” Dean said, his voice lowering to a calmer tone. “I'm gonna get Cas back, but I'd like to have you with me too.”
Sam threw his hands up in the air, but he remained quiet when he took a seat on one of the beds. His mouth released some of its earlier tension as he gave a shrug. Slowly, a smile spread on Dean's face. He knew the signs when his brother was admitting defeat, and this battle was a done one.
“We can't do it alone though,” Sam said as the final sign that he was giving in. “It's not a two-man job. We'll need a forger and at least one other man. And another chemist. That is, if you think you can find someone close to Cas's skill.”
Cas had been the chemist of the group, blending together impossible mixtures that allowed them to advance deeper and more securely into the dream world. Since his disappearance, they had made do with a new chemist every one or two jobs, Dean never pleased enough to invite them into the now two-man team.
Dean refrained from commenting on that last part, and instead he suggested, “We could call Bobby?”
“He’d probably kill me if he heard this,” Sam said with a sigh as he thought about their father's old forger., “but Bobby's a little too old for this. We need to go deep, deeper than we have ever been before, and well, Bobby... I'm not sure he'd make it. Same with Ellen. How about Jo though?”
Dean shook his head. He tried to go through every possible candidate amongst their friends and acquaintances in his mind, mentally crossing over the names. Jo's name was one of them.
“I'm not bringing her along on a job this dangerous. Besides, Jo is good at what she does, but for this we don't need 'good'. We need 'the best'.”
They were both silent for a while as Dean realized what he had said. His mental list of names was growing short, but he knew one man that could help them, one of the best forgers in the world. Only, Dean wasn't working with him again, not after what had happened during the last job.
“We could always...” Sam began as he clearly was thinking of the same man. Dean was quick to interrupt him, shaking his head vigorously, even putting his hand up in front of his face.
“No, no way. I'm not working with him again. Not after those things he said in Japan.”
“He is the best, Dean.”
Dean tried to think of anything, anything, other than getting help from that forger, but he came out empty-handed.
“I'll book the plane tickets,” Sam said when he saw the look on Dean's face. He stood up and walked over to the laptop, staring the machine. Dean wished he could say something to stop him, but they needed a forger for this mission, and well, as Sam had already stated: he was the best.