Demigoddess ~ Dean Winchester's daughter

Dark Side of the Moon (Part 3)

"My god-- the Roadhouse. It even smells the same." Dean commented. He stared at the bar that had burned down years ago.

"Bud, blood, and beer nuts-- it's the best smell in the world. How 'bout a cold one?" Ash offered. "Up here, no hangover."

"So... I mean, no offense--"

"How's a dirtbag like me end up in a place like this?" Ash cut Sam off. "I been saved, man. I was my congregation's number-one snake handler."

"A-and you said this was your heaven?" Sam asked.

"Yep. My own... personal." Ash cut some holes into a beer can, drinking out of the side. He let out a loud burp when he was done and tossed the can to the side.

Sam watched in disgust while Dean glanced at his can like he was drinking it wrong.

"And when the angels jumped us, we were..."

"In your heaven." Ash finished Sam's sentence.

"So there are two heavens?" Sam asked.

"No, more like 100 billion." Ash corrected. "So, no worries. It'll take them angel boys a minute to catch up."

Dean looked at Ash in shock. "Wha..."

"See, you got to stop thing of Heaven as one place. It's more like a buttload of places all crammed together. Like Disneyland, except without all the anti-semitism." Ash explained.

"Disneyland?" Sam asked in disbelief.

"Mm-hmm. Yeah, see, you got Winchesterland... Ashland... a whole mess of everybody-else-lands. Put 'em all together-- Heaven, right? At the center of it all is the Magic Kingdom-- The garden."

"So everybody gets a little slice of paradise?" Dean questioned.

"Pretty much. Few people share-- special cases, whatnot."

"What do you mean 'special'?" Dean furrowed his eyebrows.

"Oh, you know, like... soul mates," Ash explained. "Anyways, most people can't leave their own private Idahos."

Dean pointed to Ash. "But you ain't most people."

"Nope. They ain't got my skills. Hell, I have been all over-- Johnny Cash... Andre the Giant... Einstein." Ash turned to Sam. "Sam, that man can mix a white Russian. Hell, the other day, I found Mallanaga Vatsyayana's."

"Who?" Sam asked.

"Wrote 'The Kama Sutra'. That boy's Heaven-- oh, sweaty, confusing."

"All this from a guy who used to sleep on a pool table." Dean joked.

"Yeah, now that I'm dead, I'm livin', man-- a whole lot more."

"So, how'd you find us?" Sam asked.

"I rigged up my very own... holy rollin' police scanner." Ash pulled a decked-out laptop from behind the bar. He pressed a button that played what the angels were talking about over angel radio. "That's angels. blabbin' Enochian, okay? I'm fluent." He pressed the button again. "I heard that you were up. 'Course I had to come find you-- again."

"Again?" Dean questioned.

"This ain't the first time you been here. I mean, you boys die more than anyone I have ever met." Ash sassed.

"Really." Dean sat back, thinking.

"Ah, yeah. You don't remember. God! Angels-- must have windexed your brains." Ash shook his head.

"So, uh, I mean, have you found anybody else? Ellen and Jo?"

"Ellen and Jo are dead?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, a few months now. I'm sorry." Sam apologized.