jamoche

Once upon a time, there was a fic challenge of making crossovers between different fandoms and synecdochic's jdn

--
Snake, is JD’s first thought, immediately followed by but not Goa’uld-snake. Snake eyes, and - he notices - a small snake design on his face. Not a tattoo - JD would know. Looks like a Jaffa symbol, and he tries to recall if Daniel ever mentioned a snake-themed Egyptian (or other) god, because he wouldn’t put it past one of those bastards to inflict body mods like that on their slaves.

Second thought - where the fuck is he? It’s white, and endless, which doesn’t narrow it down to physical, virtual, or any of the many mind fucks he’s encountered.

His companion seems to recognize the place, if the frightened looks and angry shouting are any clue. JD doesn’t understand what he’s saying, which implies he isn’t a gate traveller. JD knows a few phrases in the more common off-world languages. The ones in Goa’uld aren’t useful for first contact situations, not if you're trying to make friends; he tries a greeting in Ancient, instead.

That cuts through what JD suspects is a panic attack - his companion looks at him as if he hadn’t even noticed him before. “’s not a language I know, and I know them all. But you look American.” It’s English, with a British accent. Curiouser and curiouser.

“Name’s JD. Any idea where we are, or how we got here?”

“Crowley,” he says, and takes a deep breath, collecting himself. “Looks like a pocket dimension, where they put the bad little angels and demons that they can’t figure out how to kill. Which doesn’t explain you.”

In another life, JD had encountered enough aliens who described themselves using Earth religious terms to not blink at one that called himself an angel - or a demon. Pocket dimensions, now - sounded Ancient, or possibly Asgardian. Or, worst case, another Goa’uld exploiting tech they didn’t understand. “Yeah, I’m kind of hard to kill too. Can’t think of who I might’ve pissed off lately, though. Been out of the game for long enough, they should’ve forgotten me.” Unless they'd meant to grab the old man and missed.

Crowley’s looking at him like he’s a puzzle. The feeling is mutual. “What language were you speaking? I know them all, and I didn’t recognize it.”

“Ancient. First humanoids on Earth millions of years ago, spread all over the galaxy, turned into a bunch of ascended assholes.”

“Ah, no they weren’t, because I was there when the first humans were put on the Earth.”

The puzzle is getting more complex. “What are you?”

“Demon. I told you.”

“Yeah, but I’ve met a lot of aliens who call themselves things like that. Doesn’t narrow it down.”

Crowley concentrates, and - what the fuck. Wings. Huge, black, looking - in some indescribable way - more real than their owner. Fucking wings.

“Demon. Fallen angel. You’ve heard of us, right?” And then the wings fold away. “Ouch. Shouldn’t have hurt, doing that. I hate transdimensional physics.”

JD latches on to the only part of this that could possibly intersect with the reality he knows - and also is most relevant to his situation. “You know transdimensional physics?”

“Used to. Made stars, y’know. But they don’t let you keep that when you Fall.”

JD can hear the capital letter. “Sounds like what the Ancients do to someone when they de-ascend them.”

Crowley cocks his head. “Yeah, don’t think we’re from the same place, but sounds like there’s enough in common that some things should work the same.” He starts pacing, looking around at the space they’re in in a way that reminds JD of Daniel in a newly discovered ruin - JD can’t figure out why, because as far as he can tell it’s all the same uniform white. “What are the odds… ngk, if I could just remember.”

Reminds him again of Daniel: post-descent, chasing the wisps of what he’d lost. Time for what he used to do best - ask questions that were deceptively clueless but would kick the local genius out of a rut and into finding the right angle for the solution.

“Odds of what?”

“Odds of beings from two different dimensions being shoved into the same pocket dimension… wait. That means it has two entrances. And you’re human —” Crowley gives him a questioning look, and he nods. “So they’ll probably come for you a lot sooner than they’d need to for me. Immortal,” he clarifies. “They could leave me here till the end of time. You may be hard to kill, but you’re not that.”

JD sees the implications. “They want me out of the way, but not dead. At least not yet.”

“So. We wait. They open your door, they get both of us. I smite your enemies, then I figure things out from there.”

“Yeah. I might even be able to put you in touch with some transdimensional physicists.”