A muscle twitched in Dean's jaw, as his gaze flickered briefly to the ring on the man's finger before moving back to his face - a face that was almost too perfect, inhumanly perfect. His gut told him Ralph wasn't just any ordinary being, though he had no idea who or what he really was. "I don't know what you're talking about." He'd play the man's bluff and raise him.

"Oh, I think you do."

Ralph was inhumanly calm in the face of this double-bluff, his eyes turning to Nim who had fallen silent, watching him with a wary frown. "I was there when you came into this world, Nim," he said very softly. "My hands stopped your blood, kept you alive until humanity's primitive medicine could be brought to bear upon you."

She paled, unconsciously shrinking back against Dean at the shocking revelation that a friend she had thought no different from anyone else was something more. And completely honest with it. Ralph's smile was a little saddened by her reaction, but he said nothing of it, looking back to Dean.

"You will not find your friend Missouri in this reality, Dean," he informed the other hunter. "Like Joanna Beth Harvelle and her mother, Missouri Moseley was unique to your own time and space. In this reality, your father was helped by another."

To Dean's credit, he was accustomed to weird, and his only visible reaction to this latest development was another twitch of a clenching jaw and the arch of a single eyebrow, his face remaining stoic and unresponsive. He was aware of Nim's reaction beside him and reached for her hand beneath the table and away from Ralph's view - unless, of course, he was like Superman and had x-ray vision, Dean would have thought if he'd had the chance.

"So, Ralph..." Dean put an emphasis on that name again. "If that's your real name, which I highly doubt, what do you want with us" Bottom line." No beating around the bush. He wanted to get to the heart of the matter. Other questions would come later, depending on the man's answer - or whatever he was.

Nim's hand turned beneath Dean's, her fingers linking with his as she stared across the table, unsure whether she was truly willing to believe what she was hearing or not.

Ralph remained quiet, calm, his voice offering a strangely gentle reassurance as he spoke. "You have questions," he told them. "I can answer some of those questions. You have met one of my sisters, and though she is not the most endearing of beings, you have cause to be grateful to her for your presence here together. But to answer that first question as yet unspoken ..."

Slowly, the piercing blue of his eyes turned to shining silver, just long enough to make an impression on the hunters before him. "The name of this vessel is Ralph. I am known best as Apollo."

Dean quirked a brow at this latest development. Anyone other than a hunter would probably think the guy sitting across from them off his rocker, but Dean and Nim knew better. They had recently met someone claiming to be a goddess and had felt her influence. It wasn't too far of a stretch to be meeting someone claiming to be a god. Dean carefully looked the man who claimed to be Apollo's vessel over. "You know, I've killed a few of your kind before. It's not that hard really. Just have to find your weakness." Well, what did the guy expect' Dean to hold out his hand and say, "Hi, I'm Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you?"

It was partly a bluff. Dean had run into a few gods and goddesses in his day, but he and Sam hadn't killed many. Angels, on the other hand - archangels, to be exact - didn't seem to have any love for them or any trouble getting rid of them when they became troublesome. But this was another world, and Dean wasn't really sure what the rules were here. Still, he felt the need to establish right off the bat that he wasn't going to willingly play the part of a pawn in anyone else's game of chess but his own.

"We're not that hard to weaken." Apollo, it seemed, was all about being open and honest with them; a strangely unsettling attitude from an apparently powerful being. His eyes, blue once again, met Dean's, solemn and serious and unnervingly piercing. "You fear that you have somehow abandoned your brother, that you have been removed from your purpose in the world you knew and left the countless many whom you protect to fend for themselves," he said thoughtfully. "This is not the case, Dean Winchester."

Dean's eyes widened for just a moment, betraying the fact that this being before them - whether truly a god or not - had hit a little too close to the mark. "What the hell do you know about what I'm thinking or feeling" I didn't abandon anyone," he pointed out, narrowing his eyes in annoyance. "I was brought here without warning, without permission, for whatever purpose that I'm sure has nothing to do with anyone's regard for my health or well-being and more to do with the whim of some half-forgotten gods' need for attention. I hate to disappoint you, but I'm not going to be killing any bulls on your behalf anytime soon."

"Always so ready to pick a fight without full knowledge." Apollo snorted with laughter, shaking his head at this half-c*cked, instinctive response to his gentle enquiry. "You were not brought here in your entirety," he explained, glancing from one to the other. "The process was different for you both, thanks to the interference of my sister. Please, this will take a while to explain, but I must start from the beginning. Be patient, be calm, and I will endeavor to answer your questions."

Under the table, Nim's fingers tightened around Dean's. She didn't know if she wanted to hear what they were about to be told, her body stiffening beside his as she eyed the being she'd known as Ralph warily.

Dean visibly bristled, stiffening defensively as the being before them seemed to find his annoyance at being the playtoy of the universe once again amusing. He furrowed his brows, glaring back at the being before them who Dean knew was most likely telling the truth, but that didn't mean he had to like it. "The hell are you talking about?" he asked, as Apollo hinted there was more going on here than met the eye. He felt Nim's hand tighten on his own, both of them offering each other that small bit of comfort, hidden as it was beneath the table. "What's your sister....what do you want from us?" he asked, eyeing the god with a solemn piercing gaze of his own.

"I want to help you. My sister considers you her pets." There was a pause as Apollo's gaze turned deathly serious. "But it is my father and his brothers who should concern you."

Nim's frown deepened as she glanced to Dean. "Your father" You're not seriously talking about ....Zeus, are you?"

There was another pause as Apollo nodded slowly, confirming the frightening truth. "For millenia, a war has been raging," he began, his voice low enough that only they could hear him, but filled with stern authority. "Between my people, whom humanity have named the Olympians, and the beings you call angels. In cyclical pattern, we win or lose, and for that short time we hold power over the beings of this world. We, the Olympians, oversaw the very roots of humanity; we guided you to the beginning of civilisation. But we lost the battle with your angels, and were forced to concede control of the Earth to them for the past two thousand years."

Dean regretted his own words as soon as they left his mouth, but it was too late to take them back. They were mostly said out of habit and out of feeling torn between Sam and Nim, not to mention between Cas and Bobby. He couldn't be with them all - not really - but it seemed Apollo was telling him he could, in a way, be in two places at one time. And then something else Apollo had said struck him. It was almost too much to grasp all at once. He blinked, the irascible attitude giving way to uncertainty, perhaps even fear. "Wait, what do you mean Purgatory' What's Purgatory got to do with it?"

The god's eyes narrowed just a little before he answered, casting judgement in his own mind on what he saw before him. "I do not know what it is you and your brother are facing in the world you have left behind you," he shook his head. "Nor is it any concern of mine. If you truly wish to know, you will have to locate the Fates and convince them to show you. I do not have that power."

Dean filed that slice of information away in his head for future reference, taking the god at his word for now, since he really had no choice. He seemed a bit perturbed by Dean, but Dean didn't care. He was the one whose fate hung in the balance here, and he needed to know what the hell was going on before he could make any final decisions, though his heart had already decided for him. "Okay, so, I have a choice. I can either turn my back on this world and go home, or stay and do what I've been doing all my life. Not really much of a choice, is there" Think I'm gonna be a selfish dick and leave everyone I care about here behind to fend for themselves" Really, is that what you think I'm all about?"

Apollo's answer was short and to the point. "I am not the one causing pain to one who loves him with unthinking words."

Realising who he meant, Nim lifted her head abruptly, forcing away the tightness in her throat to try and steer the conversation elsewhere. "You said the process was different for both of us," she said, her voice uncomfortably taut and emotionless. "What did you mean?"

The blue eyes turned from a stern contemplation of Dean's face to meet her eyes, gentler. "My father's intention was to bring both Dean and his brother across. My sister believed that ....love ....would serve him better in this reality of ours. Her interference in Zeus' spell ripped you, in your entirety, from the moment of your death. My interference meant that you did not die when you arrived here."

There went that brow of Dean's again at Apollo's reply. He had already told Nim he loved her and promised he wouldn't leave her. That wasn't the issue. The issue was deciding to stay and then having someone else rip him from this world back to his own without warning when his usefulness was at an end, or maybe when some enemy of the Olympians decided he'd overstayed his welcome. "You just don't get it, do you? I don't like being played like a pawn in someone else's game of chess. Been there, done that. I'm in charge of my own fate, thank you very much, and if I'm going to stay, it's because I want to, not because some goddess has decided this is where I belong. I've been jerked around once too often. I need some assurances."

Apollo's eyes returned to Dean, stern but slowly gaining some understanding of the man through his words. "You are, as you so kindly put it, stuck here," he said quietly, emphasising the words to make sense of Nim's hurt reaction for the man turning defensive and angry before him. "Yes, my father brought you here, but he doesn't have the power to send you back. Yes, my sister switched the spell about to give you a chance at a love that was denied to you in your own world, but she did not create that love. We cannot create true emotion. There are even some among us who envy the bond you share. Aphrodite gave you the chance that was taken away with Joanna Beth Harvelle's death. It is your choices that will decide what you do with that chance."

"Jo's death was my fault," Dean reiterated for the umpteenth time, allowing just a fraction of what he was feeling to make itself known at the hint of grief in his voice, the flicker of pain in his eyes. "She sacrificed her life to save mine." His hand gave an unconscious squeeze to hers, still held in his lap. He wasn't letting go; it was just the opposite. Why couldn't they see that' But he wasn't going to let her die again either.

That wasn't an option. Dean said nothing about what he felt for Jo, letting what he'd already said speak for him. What he felt for her was private, for her ears alone. It was hard enough allowing himself to take a chance and feel those feelings; it was hard enough trying to express himself properly to her without broadcasting it to Mount Olympus. Dean avoided looking Nim's way, afraid if he looked at her, all his resolve would melt away beneath her gaze. "Look, I....I'm not gonna let that happen again, okay?" he promised, his words faltering a moment as a hint of feeling crept into his voice. "I need to know I'm not gonna get swept away again just when I'm getting used to things here."

Nim's fingers curled into his once again, feeling the reassurance, the insistence that she was safe with him. Dean had her trust, her heart, her soul, but that didn't stop her from hurting under the sting of how he had first described his position here. But that sting could be assuaged. Her other hand lowered beneath the table to cover his, wrapping his fingers between her palms in silent reassurance.

Apollo pretended not to see the gentle moment passing between the couple, distracting himself with his own drink before turning his attention to Dean's own need for reassurance. "I cannot speak for the other side," he admitted quietly. "But I can speak for my father and his allies. There is no intention to send you away. You have a place in this world now, and that cannot be torn from you." His lips curved in faint amusement. "And Aphrodite has gone out of her way to root your souls here so deeply that even were my uncle to try to send you back, he would fail."

Dean took a chance and turned toward Nimue at Apollo's assurance that he wouldn't be uprooted again just when he thought he was here to stay, and the look of trust and undisguised love and longing made his heart twist with pain and regret at the clumsy words that had fallen, unthinking, from his mouth. But what was done was done. He could only apologize and try to make it up to her later, but not here, not now, when they were alone. His expression faltered a moment as he looked at her, love and longing mirrored in his own eyes, before he turned back to Apollo with a look of resigned determination on his face. "All right. What do you want us to do?"

If they'd been alone, who knew what could have happened in that tender, powerful moment shared between the lovers" As it was, Nim's smile was only in her eyes, only for Dean in the moments before his gaze turned back to Apollo, her own eyes sharing that curiously determined turn.

The god was smiling, evidently pleased with what had not been said. "Just do what you do best," he told them calmly. "Each tale that is spread of your stand against the demons and monsters of this world will inspire others of your ilk to step up to the fight. At this moment, those who hunt are the only line of defence against the darkness. Is that a noble enough calling for you, Dean Winchester?"

"That's what I've been doing all my life. Just one thing....You realize when word gets around that I'm not dead, that I'm ganking demons again, there's gonna be a target on my back the size of Arizona." He wasn't trying to make excuses or be dramatic; he was just being realistic. He had more than a few enemies, and not all of them were demons. "I have no point of reference, no idea who my allies or enemies are. You said yourself that Missouri isn't part of this world. How am I supposed to know what?s the same and what?s different' Am I supposed to just blunder along and find out for myself?"

"No..." He shook his head, taking responsibility for what he'd said, whether he'd meant how it had come out or not. In truth, he wasn't quite sure himself. "It's my fault. I'm an idiot. I have a big mouth." Even when he'd been stuck in Hell, he'd had no one to blame for that but himself. He'd purposely put himself there, always having to be the one to do all the sacrificing. It angered him in a way, that it was always him giving everything up for everyone else. Just once, why couldn't things go his way for a change" Maybe they finally were, but he was still a little too afraid to hope.

"Words aren't enough to make me walk away," she said softly. "Please tell me you know that." Finally her eyes lifted to his, searching his face for a real understanding of what she was saying. Dean could have torn her apart with words, left her sobbing, begging for some kind of relief, and she would still follow him to the ends of the Earth. "Don't take the blame for something that's already been forgiven."

He turned to face her, not only relieved but somewhat in awe of her easy forgiveness. The look on his face expressed that awe, almost in disbelief. She was the last person he wanted to hurt, the last person he wanted to cause any pain. "I'm sorry," he told her finally, ashamed of his weakness and his temper. "I'm not very good at..." He trailed off. At what? At romance" At relationships" The only long-term relationship he'd ever had with a woman had been with Lisa, and more than not, it had been a mess.

"Yeah," she agreed softly, her half-smile gently teasing once again, so easily setting what had been said behind them. Because despite it all, she knew he loved her, and that was all that mattered. "But that's just part of who you are. I don't love just the parts of you that make me smile, or keep me safe, or ....make me moan." Her voice had lowered for that, spoken into his ear intimately before she leaned back once again to continue. "I love you, plain as. All of you. Even when it hurts."

That look of awe showed in his face again, eyes wide with wonder, as if he was seeing her for the very first time. What had he ever done to deserve her" Why had Aphrodite picked them' Was it true that they belonged together, that they were destined for each other" Was this what it felt like to love someone unconditionally, to love them completely despite their flaws. He found his throat closing with repressed emotions, but he couldn't turn pull himself away from her gaze. He wanted to return that declaration of love, but the words got stuck in his throat, and he finally lowered his gaze to try and get a grip on his barely-repressed emotions.

Nim's smile softened again in the face of his struggle. She'd seen him fighting against his own emotions often enough now to know what she was witnessing, giving him a few moments to get a grip on himself before touching his cheek gently. "C'mon," she said quietly, giving him a gentle tug. "Let's get out of here. You've had a hard day."

He hadn't finished his beer, hadn't even had a swallow of it really to wet his parched throat, but somehow it didn't matter. He knew what she wanted - she wanted to be alone with him, to put the hurtful words behind them and forgive him in such a way that would make them both forget - the fire of love burning the pain of clumsily-said words from their hearts and their memories - and he was only too happy to comply. He made no argument. It hadn't been a hard day as days went, but it had been an emotionally draining one, and the thought of finding a place where they could be alone in each other's arms and forget about the rest of the world for a while was very appealing. "Where are we going?" he asked, feeling like a child, lost in a world that was familiar and yet unfamiliar, with no place to go and nowhere to call home.

Where were they going" Nim didn't know. She didn't know the area, didn't know where they could go to be alone. But one thing she was pretty sure of - they weren't staying in Lawrence. Too many memories and too many emotions were mixed up in this town to offer Dean even a fighting chance of settling after the turmoil of the day. Drawing him along behind her toward the door, she glanced over her shoulder to him. "Somewhere not here?"

"Not here," he repeated as he trudged along behind her, feeling worn out though it was only mid-afternoon. The thought of getting behind the wheel and putting as much distance as he could between himself and Lawrence was highly appealing, but which direction should they go' Back to Chicago' Northwest toward South Dakota" He felt like he had no clear purpose other than to protect Nim and to do as Apollo had suggested, which was just what he'd been doing all his life. Though Morgan's Landing had been offered up as a home base, he felt like a man with no home and no refuge other than his car and the arms of the woman he loved. But then, that wasn't so bad, was it' In the end, it didn't matter where they went, so long as it wasn't Lawrence.

"Provided, you know, we actually stop at some point," she added, proving once again that even though the only clear memories she had of him were from his arrival at Morgan's Landing and onward, Nim knew Dean better than he might have liked. Drawing him out into the afternoon sunshine, she paused on the sidewalk, turning to face him, pulling him close to ease her arms about his waist. "Here's a plan," she offered in a quiet voice. "We drive until the daylight fades, and find somewhere we can hole up until we're ready to move on."

Dean blinked as they emerged into the daylight, squinting his eyes at the almost unexpected sunlight. Why did it feel like so much of his life was lived in the darkness, beneath the cool shade of night' For just a moment, he felt disoriented, as though he'd lost track of time, the minutes of the day ticking past so slowly, it was almost as if time had reached a slow crawl. They hadn't been inside the bar that long. Why did it feel like this day was never-ending" Dean blinked out of his thoughts as Nim pulled him close and wrapped him in her embrace, his own arms settling around her shoulders as he turned to face her. The plan sounded like a good one, but for one tiny detail - he needed a direction, a destination.

"Back toward Chicago?" he asked, unsure if he was ready to go back there yet, to share her with Brian and her other friends there, feeling no real connection to any one place except Sioux Falls. It was the only place he even remotely thought of as home.

She leaned into him, chewing on her lower lip as her mind churned through thoughts of where they could go. Nim wasn't sure she wanted to go back to Chicago yet herself - she didn't feel as though she had been away long enough to justify returning. Brian hadn't had a long enough span to grow used to knowing that she wasn't there and he didn't have the right to feel resentful of that fact. The only thing in Chicago that she wanted was her guitar, but they could pick up another on the cheap as they passed through other towns, she was sure of it.

"No," she said finally. "Not Chicago." And yet she couldn't quite bring herself to openly suggest they head to Sioux Falls, either. Bobby intimidated her with his gruff manner and years of experience, and the last thing she wanted was for Dean to see her uncomfortable in the presence of his father figure. "Let's head through Nebraska and see what comes up."

Dean's mind was moving in the same direction as hers, knowing she'd want to pick up her guitar, especially now that Apollo had mentioned how important it was, though Dean thought calling on the phone was a lot faster and more convenient than summoning him via a guitar chord. He was still considering a destination when she suggested Nebraska, and he arched a singular brow in undisguised surprise. Why had she suggested Nebraska, of all places"

Dean clenched his jaw, knowing without her asking him that Nebraska would be their next destination. It was what he'd want to do in her place, to find answers to questions that maybe shouldn't be asked. Dean knew this was not going to be an easy trip for either of them, but especially not for her. Finding out that a father she didn't remember still lived, though he knew nothing about her existence because in this world, he'd never had a daughter. "Yeah, we can go find him," Dean answered, wearing that thoughtful frown of his. He could not and would not deny her this, but he knew it wasn't going to be easy.

"Thank you." There was nothing more to be said. Until they found Bill Harvelle, at least. Nim slid across the seat, wrapping her arms in a grateful hug about Dean's shoulders, dropping a kiss to his cheek. "So I guess ....now we know where we're going."

He stiffened as she hugged him, not particularly happy about the prospect of coming face to face with the one person she might love more than him, the person whose death his own father had been responsible for. "Nim..." he started, prying her gently away from him, unable to hide the feelings of guilt that troubled his mind. "There's something you should know..."

It was her turn to stiffen as he drew her arms from around him, uncertainty coloring her expression. He'd never denied her an embrace before, and just that action brought a flare of concern burning through her chest. "What is it?" she asked, dark eyes searching his face even as she tried to determined what she'd done, what had distressed him. "What's wrong?"

He wasn't even sure if it was important. Things were different here - people he'd thought were dead were still alive and vice versa. He'd only just bid his brother farewell and now they had learned that another ghost from the past was still alive and well. The Bill Harvelle that lived in this world might not have even known his father, but they wouldn't find that out until they got there.

"My father..." Dean started, licking his lips nervously. "Back home, my father was responsible for your father's death." There, he'd said it. Maybe it wouldn't matter, but maybe it would. He could have easily kept it from her, but he didn't want any secrets between them. He found there was no sense of relief in the telling, only a painful tightening in his chest as he awaited her reaction.

To her credit, her expression only cleared, the confusion and uncertainty fading behind a calm smoothness that betrayed nothing of what was going on in her mind. Only her eyes, watchful and vaguely confused still, gave away any hint of what was going on inside her head. "How do you know that?" she asked him very carefully. "Were you there?"

Dean shook his head slowly. He hadn't been there; he hadn't witnessed it. He only knew what he'd been told, bits of pieces of the story told from different perspectives. Ellen had seemed quite sure that John had been responsible for Bill's death, and that had been enough proof for Dean. "No, I wasn't there. I never met him, but....Ellen said..." He broke off, the full implications of his words weighing heavily on his shoulders, turning to face her with a look of sorrowful remorse in his eyes for something that hadn't been his fault. "Your mother....She thought I was like him, worried I'd get you killed, and..." Did the rest really need saying" He had, in the end, made her prophecy come true.

"Dean." Her hands rose to curl to his jaw, gazing into his eyes with the firm, unwavering, trusting belief in him she had shown almost from the first moment. "We've been over this. Whatever happened, it was my choice. And even if, somehow, my mom was right, that isn't something you're allowed to feel guilty for. It's your dad's burden, if she was right. And it doesn't matter here. My -" She stopped herself before she could say it, not wanting to hope for too much. "Bill is alive here. It never happened. Ease up on the guilt, all right' After today, you really don't need more to deal with."

He met her gaze, the guilt subsiding enough so that he felt like he could at least breath again. He nodded his head, knowing that logically she was right, though it might take some time to ease the weight of guilt. It was getting easier, with her help, but it didn't happen overnight. He drew a heavy sigh, pushing the feelings of guilt and remorse aside. She was right; there had been enough sadness for one day, and he needed to be strong for her when they reached their destination, which he knew was less than a day's drive from Lawrence. "I still don't know what I did to deserve you," he told her, his eyes meeting hers.

"Oh, you don't deserve me," she smirked faintly, those dark eyes dancing with teasing light as she touched the tip of her nose to his. "I'm your penance; you'll have to put up with me always being around for the rest of your life. Not to mention the children." And there it was, a gentle nod to the unspoken agreement they had made not more than three hours before, a reminder that the past really didn't matter anymore. They had a future, and that really was all that mattered now.

Both eyebrows lifted at her hopes for the future, whether she was teasing him or not. She had not mentioned a child, but children - plural, more than one, seemingly determined to make that dream a reality, no matter the cost, and he found himself daring to yearn for the very same thing. "Promise?" he asked, the question drifting from his lips before he could stop it, needing to know. They were apparently favored by the gods - was nothing impossible, then"

The sweet determination in her eyes softened into tender certainty as her lips quirked into a warmer smile. "Damn straight it's a promise," she told him firmly, sealing that deal with a kiss that rocked her deep.

As curious as she was to meet the man who had been her father in another lifetime, Nim wasn't stupid. William Harvelle was the past; Dean was the present and future. And besides ....no father could ever make her feel so complete as she did when Dean Winchester smiled at her. Some answers were just that - answers, to be learned and accepted and settled in the past where they belonged.

((What next for our disposable heroes" Who knows? ::chuckles:: Thanks to Dean's player, as ever!))