Chapter Text
***Castiel POV***
March 17th
Castiel felt shock course through him.
Another Ember. He recalled, briefly and with distaste, his own doppelganger in the Apocalypse World.
This Ember’s eyes scanned the group of them, then lit on Castiel. “Castiel,” she said fiercely, and she was attacking him almost before he could respond.
“No!” screamed Ember – his Ember – and she dove in front of him, using the last of her strength to shoot her own force powers back in the direction of this Apocalypse World Ember.
There was an almighty BOOM! and a smell of burnt rubber. As Castiel flew away, he saw his Ember collapse on the floor. He materialized in front of the Apocalypse World Ember with the handcuffs Dagon had used on Ember two years prior, snapping them around her wrists quickly. She screamed in rage as the yellow died in her eyes, first turning to black and then the normal brown.
Dean and Sam had not been idle, either. Dean, wary, had a gun trained on this Apocalypse World Ember with a look on his face that said he desperately did not want to use it. Eileen was wielding an angel blade. Jack and Krissy had run to Ember’s side. Krissy had her fingers to Ember’s neck to feel a pulse, but Castiel could already tell that she was simply knocked out. Apocalypse World Ember’s powers had overwhelmed her, but they couldn’t kill her, not really.
“I will not be held captive again,” Apocalypse World Ember said seethingly to Castiel. “You will never hurt me again! I-…”
“Ember, please!” said Sam, reaching out for her.
Apocalypse World Ember stopped talking and looked at Sam as though she had been doused in cold water. Shock registered clearly in her eyes, and, finally, she looked down at her prone doppelganger on the floor.
It was three seconds before she spoke again, in a flat, angry voice. “Ember is dead,” she said harshly. “Angels killed her a long time ago.”
---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---
Ember was resting, knocked out. It would be another day until she awakened. Castiel had healed her mind as much as he could, but the memory wipe was still taking a toll on her, and Apocalypse World Ember’s attack hadn’t helped.
“What do we do with her?” Sam asked the group at large when Castiel returned upstairs with Krissy and Jack.
No one answered. On the monitors, Apocalypse World Ember stalked around the dungeon, occasionally raging at the camera.
Castiel remembered, again, his own counterpart in the Apocalypse World.
“We have to kill her,” said Dean finally in the heir of resolving himself to something he really didn’t want to do. “She’s Azazel’s-…”
“Seriously, Dean?” said Sam, seemingly exasperated.
“She tried to kill Cas!” Dean defended. “She almost killed Ember. She’s gone full yellow-eyes and everything. She’s not gonna come back from that.”
“It’s Ember!” Krissy defended loudly. “Dean, how could you even think about-…”
A loud, raucous argument broke out, and Castiel sighed and glanced at Sam.
“Enough!” Sam’s voice rang about above all the others. “This is an Ember we know nothing about, an Ember we don’t understand. It’s likely that she’s been tortured. She doesn’t know what to expect from us. We need to talk to her, find out what she wants.”
Castiel had his doubts, but he agreed. “It needs to be you, Sam,” he said, always the strategist.
The group looked at him.
“It needs to be Ember,” he amended. “But she’s asleep.” He also didn’t want to leave Ember alone with this Apocalypse World Ember, but he kept that bit to himself. “Jack and I are angels – we’re the enemy. Dean’s already pulled a gun on her.”
“He’s right,” Eileen spoke up, signing as she spoke. “It should be you, babe.”
Resolutely, Sam nodded. “I’ll go. The rest of you can watch on the cameras.”
***Sam POV***
March 17th
Sam walked carefully down the stairs into the dungeon. Ember stopped her pacing expectantly and eyed him suspiciously, her eyes flashing yellow again for a quick second before they stuttered back to brown.
“I brought food,” Sam said, holding out a tray with a peanut butter sandwich and chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.
Surprise registered on Ember’s face before she quickly hid it. “Why?” she snapped.
Sam shrugged. “Because you’re half human,” he answered.
Another look of shock, quickly transformed into an angry glare.
Clearly this might take awhile. Sam set the sandwich down on the table, then pulled another chair up and sat down backward on it. Apocalypse World Ember eyed the sandwich.
“What should I call you,” Sam asked her finally.
She glared at him again, apparently considering the question. Finally she said, “The demons call me Eris. The angels call me Melecebra. But Ember died a long time ago.”
Sam paused. “How about Melissa?” he asked.
The Apocalypse World Ember – Melissa, Sam decided – rolled her eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh. “Mel, if you must,” she said finally. “What do you want?”
“I could ask you the same question,” he said, attempting to keep his voice mild. “You came into my home, tried to kill one of my friends, and hurt another one of my friends.”
“I came here to kill Michael,” she said, venom in her eyes. “And then I saw that angel – the one they call Castiel -…” Something in her eyes closed off, and she looked away.
Sam decided not to inquire further. “Michael is dead,” he said.
Mel looked up at him with a mixture of shock, disbelief, and hope, quickly fading into her usual mask of pissed off.
“Jack killed him.”
“Jack?” asked Mel with a disbelieving sneer.
“Lucifer’s son,” Sam said simply. “But he’s… he’s good. He’s on our side of things.”
Mel had begun eyeing the sandwich Sam had set on a table in front of her, but looked at Sam now with surprise.
“And what side is that?” she asked with a glare.
“We’re hunters,” Sam said. “But, lately, it’s been more of a ‘saving the world’ sort of deal.”
Mel glared at him doubtfully, but Sam cut her off. “And… you can have the sandwich. And whatever food or drink you want.” She was heartbreakingly thin. Sam wondered when was the last time she’d had a decent meal.
“I’d like these handcuffs off,” Mel snapped at him.
“You tried to kill us once already,” Sam said. His voice was even, but his eyes narrowed. “And you’re different than the Ember we know. You’ve gone…” He waved his hand. “Dark.”
“Yeah, well…” Mel said, eyeing the sandwich again uncertainly. “Shit happens.”
There was a long pause. Finally, Mel said, “Who opened the door to our world, if not Michael?”
“Jack,” Sam said again. “Um… Some people came over from the other side when we opened it the last time, and, now that Michael’s dead… it was time for them to go back home.”
“The last time?” said Mel, glancing at the sandwich.
“Eat,” Sam said, sliding the sandwich her direction. Slowly, he began to tell her the story of Jack and Apocalypse World. He weighed his words carefully – he didn’t want to tell her too much. Still, there was a chance that this version of Ember could be saved, could fight her demonic nature – they had managed it with their version of Ember, after all.
Over time, Mel slowly – incrementally – began to visibly relax. As Sam discussed the original Apocalypse, she slowly took the first bite of her sandwich. She was so thin, Sam doubted that she could help it. When she looked down at her hands and realized she was eating the sandwich, she glared back up at Sam, who had the decency to shrug and offer a small smile.
She responded with a glare, but finished the sandwich.
“I’ve never heard of a Sam or a Dean Winchester in our universe,” she said, still with her characteristic scowl. “But you spoke of a Bobby Singer. My mother used to say that my father was a man named Bobby Singer. But I’ve never met him.”
“You just missed him,” said Sam. “We just sent him back to your universe.”
She glared at him again, as though this was his fault.
“Your original universe didn’t have us,” said Sam. “Castiel already told us your world was what would’ve happened if Dean and I hadn’t existed.” He said it hesitantly – he was proud of the work he’d done, but didn’t want to seem self-obsessed.
“Fuck Castiel,” Ember said, taking the final bite of her ice cream. Her eyes flashed yellow dangerously again before they stuttered out.
Sam took a step backward, the sheer ferocity of the yellow eyes alarming him for a moment. “Mel,” he said finally, his voice firm now. “You have a couple of choices. You can go back to your world, if you like. We can open the door again, and let you go free.”
Surprisingly, her face twisted with distaste. “Option 2?”
“We can cure you,” Sam said. “We’ll find a way to make you… more human again.” It was what Ember would want, Sam was certain of it.
“No angel is touching me,” she snapped. “Not this Jack, and definitely not Castiel.”
“Oh… kay?” Sam said. “I mean… the ball’s in your court.”
Mel seemed to be considering her options. Finally she said, “Where is your Ember? I didn’t… kill her. Did I?”
Sam was surprised to see a flash of guilt in Mel’s eyes, before her eyes became emotionless once again.
“No,” Sam said. “She’s sleeping. She recently underwent a procedure that made her already tired and weak, and then-…”
“I knew it!” Mel jumped to her feet with alarming speed, climbing over the table until she was spitting in Sam’s face. “You’re doing experiments on her, too! You and Castiel -…”
“No!” Sam said, backing up off the chair in his haste to get away from her. “I would never!”
The chair fell over on top of him, and Mel attempted to launch herself on top of that. Her handcuffs, chained to the table, protested, and she gave an almighty roar of rage.
Sam stood up, his height allowing him to tower over Mel, who was still spitting with rage. “Michael used her!” he said angrily. “He possessed her. He used her to kill others! And she asked that those memories be erased. But the procedure took a toll on her, and she was barely awake when we sent our friends back to your world.”
“I’ll believe it when I hear it from her!” Mel shot back.
“Fine,” Sam said. “She’ll be awake in a day or so.”
---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---
The rest of the day passed, and Ember did not wake. Castiel said that Mel’s attack had undone any healing that her mind had managed to complete since her memories had been erased. He kept her in a deep sleep until he was sure her mind was healed fully.
Sam, and, later, Eileen and Krissy, continued to monitor Mel. Mel ate and drank whatever they gave her. When Sam caught her sleeping with her head leaning over the table and shivering, he brought her down a mattress and a blanket into the dungeon.
Krissy brought her a large bucket of water, some towels, some soap, and a comb. She bathed as best she could with the handcuffs and without removing her clothes. Her matted hair slowly became unmatted and somewhat clean, a painstaking process which took Mel the better part of six hours.
On the first night she slept with a mattress, Mel woke up screaming no less than seven times. After the third time, Eileen began to offer, “I can get Cas to give you dreamless-…”
“I don’t want that angel freak anywhere near me!” Mel seethed, her eyes once again flashing yellow for a second.
“Fine!” Eileen said, shrugging, as she and Sam headed helplessly back upstairs.
“She’s traumatized,” Eileen signed to Sam as she climbed back into bed with him.
“Whatever happened in Apocalypse World definitely messed her up,” Sam agreed.
“Sam, she attracts demons and angels. You know what happened,” Eileen signed back. “No wonder she went dark side.”
Sam sighed. He wondered if Mel could be saved.
---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---
Ember didn’t awaken the next day, either. Mel continued to refuse to discuss her choices with any of them, though by the end of the second day she had begun to exchange pleasantries. She no longer scowled when she saw them, and at one point even managed a weak smile for Krissy.
“I’m starting to wonder if she actually did go dark side,” Sam mused over a quick lunch of coffee and sandwiches. “Or if maybe she’s just… messed up. She doesn’t act like she wants to kill us.
“Well, most of us,” he amended, glancing at Castiel.
“You’re getting soft,” said Dean, mayonnaise dribbling out the side of his mouth. “She’s still Azazel’s daughter. Her eyes aren’t yellow from all the years she spent playing with puppies and kittens.”
By the end of that day, Mel demanded to see Ember. “I can’t let you see her,” Sam said firmly. “You did attack her, after all.”
“I was aiming for Castiel,” Mel said boldly.
“She’s still sleeping,” Sam continued. “I can show you with a video phone, if you’d like.”
Sam went upstairs and explained the situation to Castiel. He returned downstairs and made the phone call, showing Mel Ember’s sleeping form. “She’ll wake in a couple of days, Mel,” said Castiel’s deep voice in the background. “I’m sorry for whatever angels have done to you in your world. But this Ember did not share that fate. We would never hurt her. She wanted her memories to be removed because she didn’t want to remember what she had done when Michael possessed her.”
“How is that possible?” Mel said, and her doubtful, condescending voice had returned. “Even when they tried, they weren’t able to remove my memories or put me into a dream world.”
“She had to consent, of course,” Castiel responded. “If she had not agreed – if she had not wanted it – it would not have been possible.”
Mel had no response for this.
“Thanks, Cas,” Sam said, taking the phone from Mel’s chained hands. “I’ll be back up in a minute.”
Mel had frozen. “That – that was Castiel?” she said, putting down the cheeseburger she had been about to demolish.
“Yeah,” said Sam, wondering where this was going.
“He sounded different,” Mel said, looking murderous again. Ice had crept back into her voice. “I didn’t realize. Why is he standing over her bed?”
“It’s… they’re together,” said Sam, curious about the turn the conversation had taken. “Engaged, actually.”
Mel turned away and made a motion as though she might hurl. She took in several gulps of air, and Sam was just about to grab a bucket when Mel grumbled, “I thought she was with Dean.”
“She was, for a few years,” said Sam, uncomfortable. “Then they broke up, and… I don’t know… she and Cas are happy.”
Mel seemed to curl in on herself at this news, and gave another aborted dry heave. “I should’ve known,” she grumbled.
“Should’ve known what?” asked Sam, wondering if the danger of projectile vomit had passed.
Mel seemed to regret talking. “Nothing,” she said, taking another deep breath of air. “Thanks for the sandwich, Sam.”
It was a clear dismissal, but not an unkind one. Sam shrugged, removing Mel’s plate and glass and returning upstairs.
***Ember POV***
March 19th
Ember finally awoke around noon the following day. She still felt weak, almost feverish, but Ibruprofin improved the situation.
When she learned what had been going on, she demanded to visit Mel in the dungeons. Castiel protested against it (as usual), but was outvoted by everyone except for Dean.
Flanked by Sam, she headed downstairs.
Mel turned, and her eyes shone yellow for just a second before a look of relief stole over her. “Finally,” she said, sitting up on the mattress she’d been given. She was still dirty, still in clothes that looked old and decrepit, but her hair was no longer matted and she seemed oddly healthier.
Ember tried to show no emotion. Dean had begun giving her lessons on the best ways to do an interrogation before she’d gone downstairs. This sort of thing was usually a task eagerly handed off to the brothers or to Castiel – but, in this instance, she was necessary.
Mel loped over to the single table with two rickety chairs. “What took so long?”
“You attacked me,” Ember said, taking the other chair while Sam stood back near the door. “I was recovering.” What must this version of herself have gone through to look the way she did? What had finally broken her so that her demonic powers had been let loose?
Surprisingly, Mel showed a pang of remorse before she said, “I was aiming for Castiel.”
“He’s my fiancé,” said Ember. She slowed her voice so that she seemed empathetic, but still slightly dangerous. “If you hurt him, you hurt me.”
“What kind of spell does that? That’s a bullshit, coward’s move on his part,” Mel responded venomously, suddenly becoming animated.
Ember looked at her in surprise, feeling suddenly wrong-footed. “What are you talking about?”
“You said-…” Something appeared to occur to Mel suddenly. “You didn’t mean literally. With the whole, ‘you hurt him, you hurt me… thing.’”
“No,” Ember said, suddenly understanding. “Why would I mean literally? You thought-… You thought Cas-…”
Mel looked back defiantly, tilting her chin up and stomaching her embarrassment, as though daring Ember to be wrong. “You were weak before I attacked you,” Mel said determinedly. “Why.”
Ember sighed. She knew how Dean felt about this version of her. She knew, even, how Castiel felt. But she also knew that it was not so long ago that she had been in this position. She decided to tell the truth.
“Michael possessed me a few weeks ago,” Ember started.
“And you let him?” Mel snapped, but there was pity in her voice with the derision.”
“He said he would kill everyone I loved,” Ember retorted.
Mel seemed to take this as a personal offense, reeling back as though she’d been slapped. Ember wondered if there was anyone in the world Mel still loved. “He would’ve killed them anyway,” said Mel sadly.
“I know,” Ember said. “But I guess I thought maybe I could fight him inside my head, like-…” she heard Sam’s intake of breath from near the door. “Like Sam did with Lucifer.” It was a thought that had taken shape after her memories had been removed, as her mind tried to compensate for their absence. She realized that this had been a small part of her motivation for allowing the possession, along with the fact that she was simply playing for time.
Mel had not missed the nonverbal conversation between Ember and Sam, but she ignored it. “Yeah, Sam said something about that,” she said.
She folded her arms in front of her. “I wouldn’t mind hearing the whole story from you,” she said.
“Didn’t Sam already tell you quite a bit of it?” Ember asked, raising her eyebrows. She wanted to show empathy to this version of herself, but the Winchesters had already warned her about seeming too weak.
“I want to hear it from you,” Mel said again.
Ember understood – Mel wanted to compare her story to Sam’s and look for holes, and also see her point of view.
“I’m interested to hear your story too,” Ember said, folding her arms and mirroring her doppelganger. “Word is you haven’t talked much about anything going on, other than you wanted Michael dead.”
Mel narrowed her eyes and glanced at Sam before saying, “Fine. You first, and then I’ll talk.”
Ember looked at Sam for confirmation, and Sam gave a small nod.
“Fine,” agreed Ember, relaxing somewhat. “Um… okay, so I was a Therapist. Were you a Therapist?”
Mel rolled her eyes. “Yeah, before I became a fucking badass.”
It was Ember’s turn to roll her eyes. “Right. Well, okay. So, I was just living my life when, out of the blue my powers started to increase. Like, before, I was just able to do party tricks – you know, levitate crap or whatever - and then suddenly I was able to move animals, and levitate myself. And I didn’t know why.”
“Yeah, same here, for the longest time,” interjected Mel. She laughed, though it was more of a twisted scoff. “Mom was freaked. Was your Mom freaked?” Ember glanced at Sam, and could tell from his raised eyebrows that this was the most information anyone had gotten from Mel so far.
“Yeah, so she had me go stay with my Dad for awhile. Bobby?”
“Yeah, I brought that idea up with my Mom, too,” said Mel. “But we’ve never been able to track Bobby down. We tried, when I was a teenager and started getting my powers. But he wouldn’t respond to Mom.”
“That’s weird,” Ember said. Her mother had always gone to Bobby for references and information about the world of hunters, even though the two of them had broken up a long time ago, when Ember was still incredibly young. She couldn’t imagine what her life would’ve been like without Bobby to guide the situation.
“They had a really nasty break-up,” said Mel, shrugging. “Something about Bobby’s son.”
“Oh,” Ember said, understanding. “My Bobby didn’t have a son. But the one in your world did, I think. He was killed by angels. His name was-….”
“Daniel,” said Mel. “Mom told me.”
Ember nodded. “Okay, so, after four months, I went to live with Bobby, and then I met Dean. We figured out that Lilith was breaking the 66 seals, and that the demons were trying to make it so that Lucifer could break out of Hell.”
“Four months?” Mel asked, looking horror-struck. “Hold on. So, you knew about the Apocalypse – about the big fight between the angels – before it happened?”
“You didn’t?” asked Ember. It was a concept she couldn’t even fathom.
“Her world was a world without Dean and I,” Sam interjected from the corner. “Michael and Lucifer each had a different vessel that they possessed.
Mel was silent. She stared at Ember with a look that was part jealous and part defiant. Ember had the feeling she was contemplating the situation.
Finally, Mel gestured for Ember to continue, so Ember expanded on the tale of the Apocalypse. Sam eventually joined her, filling in holes where necessary. Mel seemed particularly interested in the parts involving Castiel joining their side in the Apocalypse.
“When Castiel – the other Castiel – talked about Michael’s vessel, it was like he was disgusted by him. He always called him ‘The Vessel’, or ‘My Last Charge’. He always called him ‘flawed’ and ‘barely worthy of the title of Righteous Man.’” The venom with which she discussed the Apocalypse World Castiel was obvious.
Ember and Sam looked at each other, shocked. “You knew the other one? The weird… Nazi version?”
“I knew that freak,” spat Mel. “He had me locked up for years. I heard he died.” She chuckled, her face looking animated. “I hope it was a horrible death. God, I hope he suffered.”
“I don’t think he suffered,” Ember said apologetically. “But I suspect his pride took a hit. Cas killed him last year.”