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Chapter Text

Time Travel wasn't anything new to Dean Winchester.

He'd been through this rodeo before. 1973, when he met his parents. Talked his dad into buying the Impala and failed to stop Azazel. In 1978 he and Sam had tried to stop Anna from killing their family. 1861, he used the Colt to kill a Phoenix. 1944, he teamed up with Elliot Ness who was a hunter. And his last go-around had him teaming up with Lucifer of all people to go back to 1943 and steal the Hand of God from the USS Bluefin.

This time is different. Dean thought looking around at ground zero of his resurrection. Just like last time it looked like a bomb at gone off above his grave. Trees were charred and laid flat. Their roots pulled right out the ground.

Forgot how powerful Angels used to be. Dean kept his words to himself. Amara had said that she could protect his mind because of the 'connection' they had, but if he told others or spoke of the future out loud, she couldn't stop anyone from overhearing. And if the Angels found out she was free, and it was God in her prison...

Dean shook his head. He didn't even want to think about it. Michael was free again. Raphael was alive. And Gabriel wasn't their friend. He and Sam couldn't take on three Archangels. It was impossible.

So, he pulled his plaid shirt off and draped it over his head. The sun was high and he had a long walk to the fill-up joint.

Hours later, after breaking into the gas station and washing the dirt from his body as best he could, Dean was walking the isles of the store, dumping everything he needed in a bag. Food, water, and of course the Bust Asian Beauty. He couldn't forget that.
He was emptying the register when Castiel came barreling through. Dean didn't even bother trying to salt the windows like he had last time. It was a pointless defense against angels. He hunkered down behind the counter and covered his ears.

When the windows shattered and everything stopped shaking as Castiel finally left, Dean stood up. He didn't bother with being pissed. The Angel that had just tried to speak to him wasn't the Cas he remembered. That angel was gone. Killed by God. Same with Sam. God had killed them both, as easy as he had Jack. One snap of his fingers and everyone Dean cared about was dead.

We shouldn't have tried to kill him. Dean thought. He picked up his bag and walked out of the station. They had tried to kill God. The soul bomb was a good idea in theory. He could admit that. Something that could kill Amara would kill God, but it was like Lucifer said. God was a strategist. He had seen them coming, hell, he might have even planted the plan in Sam's brain for all Dean knew. The plan was damned from the start.

"Yes, it was."

Dean nearly jumped out of his boots as Amara appeared in front of him. "Amara, what are you doing here?"

"What are you doing out here? Amara asked. "Shouldn't you be on your way to your brother?"

"That's what I'm trying to decide," he said.

Dean looked southward. He was twenty miles away from Sam. It would be a short drive, thirty minutes at the very most. Less if he didn't bother with speed limits. Dean could ignore what he saw, turn the car around, and be there at Sam's motel room. He'd embrace him. Dean would tell him that he was back, that it was really him. He didn't know how it happened, but he was back.

Dean would probably hate Illinois forever now. It was where Sam was with Ruby. Where his little brother holed up in a motel with a monster and drank her blood. Dean wondered why he wasn't storming into that room. He should. He should kick down that door and kill that manipulating bitch. But he didn't. Because Sam was there and despite it going against every instinct in his body, Dean knew that to kill Sam, he'd have to fight his brother. He'd seen it enough traveling the country — junkies protecting their stashes.

"You don't want him with you?" Amara asked.

"No, I do. And that's the problem. Sam's not himself right now. He's hopped up on demon blood, Ruby's riding his ass, and I just can't trust him. Not now." Dean said.

"You don't' think leaving him with the demon is dangerous?"

"No, it is. But like it or not, Ruby needs him alive. So do Heaven and Hell." Dean said. "Sam's still following their script. I'm the one who is about to drive the train off the rails. He'll be safer if he's not near me."

"Or he will be in even more danger."

Dean wasn't so sure. Their lives couldn't get much worse. Granted, everything seemed fine for the first few years. It wasn't perfect by no means, but they muddled through okay. The apocalypse was where everything really went to crap. After Sam was never the same after he got out of the Cage. Dean wouldn't let that happen again.

"I'm doing the right thing," Dean said as he opened the door to the beater outside.

"Dean, wait. What are you going to do? Deal with everything yourself? You and sam could barely hold the world together." Amara said, frowning as Dean climbed into the car, ready to drive away from his brother.

"That was when God was working against us." Dean glanced at Amara and asked. "You're not secretly working against us, right? I mean, I'm not gonna find some Cheryl Shurley down the road writing Supernatural books?"

"What would you do if I said I was? Your plan to soul-bomb God almost got you killed. It did kill your brother and the angel. The only reason your alive is because of me, Dean."

"Just a joke," Dean said, nervously. He cranked the engine of the old car, wincing as it sputtered and smoked. She started, but someone hadn't treated her right.

"I'm sorry," Amara said, reaching across the seat to lay her hand on Dean's arm. "I am still learning about human interaction. It was not my intention to scare you."

"I wasn't scared," Dean said, although he knew that was far from the truth as something could be. With God in her old room, Amara could wipe out the entire universe if she wanted. Not that the dick would try to stop her anymore. God was done with their world.

"I've grown to care about this world," Amara said, frowning. "It may be my brother's creation, but it has brought me great joy."

"That's nice?"

"It is." Amara nodded, her frown flipping into a smile. "You humans and your creativity. I mean, look at this? It's beautiful."

Dean looked down at the black dress Amara was wearing. It was the same dress she had worn during her 'destroy the universe' phase. She wasn't wrong. The dress was nice. And so is what it's covering. He thought. Of course, he couldn't tell Amara that. So he deflected. "You didn't seem to care much about it before."

"I didn't know then what I know now," Amara said. "Fashion? Massages? If I had known the wonders my brother's creations would create, I would not have tried so hard to destroy them."

"That's nice." Dean smiled tightly. "Why are you here, again?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, our deal is done. God's locked up. I'm good for my word, so you know I will get the key. Why-"

"Am I sticking around?" Amara interrupted. "I just want to talk to you, Dean. It's been a long time since we've talked, just the two of us."

"You want to make sure I keep up my end of the bargain, huh?" Dean snorted. "Don't you worry about that. The last thing I want is Chuck running free again. No offense, but your brother's kind of a dick."

"I know. I believe I was the first to tell you of his true colors."

"And I might have listened if you weren't trying to destroy the world."

Amara smiled, moving her hand up Dean's arm from his wrist to his elbow, then up to his shoulder. "See, Dean. Our conversations can be fun."

"Heh...Amara, our conversations usually revolve around the world ending," Dean said, his lips twitching up. "I don't see that as fun."

"That's because you're too focused on what's being said," Amara tapped the side of his neck. "Instead of whose saying it."

"Okay," Dean leaned away, laughing nervously. "What's going on? I mean seriously? Why are you here?"

"I want to have sex with you, Dean." Amara frowned. "Was that not clear? I've never seduced anyone before."

"No, no, I got the message. But why?"

"I've learned a great deal in the short time I've spent on earth. Humans, you are all so obsessed with sex, I'm curious to see why." Amara explained, then she asked. "So, will you?"

Dean steered the car to the side of the road and shifted the gears into park. He turned in his seat so he could face Amara.

"I would." His eyes trailed down her body. "Really, I would. But I'm trying to save the future here."

"It will not take long," Amara said.

Dean scoffed, insulted by the unintentional dig. "Hey, I'm no one hump chump. I'd rock your world." He said.

"Then show me."

What the hell. Dean thought. Amara was hot, and he had always felt a pull towards her. Their bond she called it. He could feel it still. And there was no point in fighting it. She wasn't his enemy anymore.

"I'll get us a motel." He said, turning back forward. "There won't be any seconds, though. I'm on a tight schedule."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, with the angels and demons trying to jump-start the end of the world again, I'm not going to have much time for fun," Dean said. "I'm just one guy."

Amara snapped her fingers.

"What was that?" Dean asked. "What did you do?"

"You'll see soon enough. For now, I believe I can get us to where we need to be much faster than you."

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Supernatural

Down on one knee, Dean rubbed vigorously, attempting to erase the abuse of countless years. Most of the caked-on mud ended up near the tire wells, so those areas always need some extra elbow grease to get clean. Dean dunked his mitt back into the rinse bucket at his feet to shake off some of the grime, before dipping it in the wash bucket again to apply more soap to the car.
After he was convinced there was not a single square inch unwashed, he dropped the mitt in the rinse bucket and picked up the hose. He adjusted the nozzle to a thin, powerful stream and sprayed the suds and any lingering dirt away.

With the car wet and gleaming, Dean released the handle of the hose and flung it aside. He carried both buckets out of the way. Over one of the waist-high walls that separated the motorcycle stalls, he'd tossed a fluffy towel and a chamois for detail work. He'd gotten some expensive wax in town but wanted to make sure the car was as clean as possible before applying the wax finish.

"You might not be Baby, but you deserve more than Bobby's scrapyard."

He'd been talking to the car the whole time he fixed her up. Not surprising since he and Sam weren't talking at the moment. His brother didn't even know he was out of Hell.
Dean grabbed the towel and began a slow circle around the car, wiping the water away. He took his time on the headlights and taillights. There was window cleaner for the windshield in the back seat. He was saving that for last.

In the pockets of his jeans, his phone rang. He already knew who was calling. There was only one person in the world who had his number.

"Yeah, Bobby?" Dean asked. "I'm kinda in the middle of something."

"You better not be washing that car again, Dean."

"No," Dean said. "I finished washing. Now I'm drying her."

"Dean," Bobby said, and he could hear the older hunter shaking his head. "This is the third time this week."

"You're counting?"

"What are 'ya doing, Dean?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hiding out wherever it is you're hiding. Washing that damn car every day. I wouldn't have let you take it if I knew you were going to do this." Bobby said. "You need to pull yourself together."

Dean dropped the towel for the chamois. He shook his head. "I'm fine, Bobby."

"No, Dean. You're not fine. And you know it."

Dean paused, his hand pressing the chamois to the roof of the Mustang. "You're right, Bobby, I'm not fine. We're hunters. We hunt. Plain and Simple."

"It's not always simple."

"Maybe it's not," Dean said. It hadn't been simple in years. "But it's always been straightforward. We hunt monsters. We track them down, and we kill them. At least, we used to. Now I've got Angels on my ass, Lilith trying to break seals, and don't get me started on Sam."

"You're still hunting, Dean."

"No, I'm trying to stop the Apocalypse," Dean said, frowning. "And that is so far above my paygrade-hell, I didn't even believe in Angels until a few months ago."

"Dean, you need to talk to your brother. We could use his help-"

"Not a chance, Bobby." Dean cut in. "I can't risk it. The Angels haven't said a word about Sam working with Demons. I'm not going to tempt fate by getting close to him."

"You think they'd kill him?"

"Yeah, Bobby. I do." Dean said.

"Well, hell."

"That about sums it up," Dean said, shaking his head. "So, I'm gonna keep doing what I'm doing. Try and keep the Angels away from Sam until he sees some sense. Try and stop Lilith from breaking the seals. And try and keep the Angels from throwing my ass back into the pit."

"Sounds to me like you got a full plate." Bobby huffed. "You got a plan for any of that?"

"No, I don't," Dean said. "What I can do is clean the car. So that's what I'm going to do."

"Well, I can't do a thing about the Angels breathing down your neck, but I'll keep looking into this seal business. And see if I can't get Sam away from Ruby long enough for me to kill her."

"Be careful, Bobby." Dean dropped the chamois. "Ruby isn't going to go down without a fight. Whatever she told Sam while I was in Hell has got my brother following her around like she's family."

"You don't think he'd listen to you if you told him to stay away?"

"Bobby, I watched the kid exorcise a demon...with his mind!" Dean sighed, rubbing his temples. "I don't know what happened while I was gone. All I know is Sam's off the reservation. And there isn't a damn thing I can do about. Not with-"

"The Angels, yeah. Alright, I'll get back to hitting the books. See if I can't find any more of the seals. Maybe get us a step ahead of Lilith for a change." Bobby said. "I'll call Sam too. Try and talk some sense into his stubborn head."

"Thanks, Bobby."

After Bobby hung up, Dean waxed the Mustang from front to back, top to bottom, trying to keep his mind off the hundred different problems he had to solve. There were so many things he had to do. Monsters, he had to stop. People he had to save.

There just isn't enough time in the day. He thought. Not when the Apocalypse is on its way.

"You can't save everyone," he chided himself. "No matter how much you know, it just isn't possible."

At that moment, it felt like the whole world was slowly crushing him. I can feel it. Dean thought. The sky is falling. It wasn't a new feeling. In fact, the sky had been falling on Dean Winchester since he was four years old. The difference, of course, was that this time, he was a hundred steps ahead of the game.
Dean let out a tired sigh as he tossed the chamois aside, and he looked around the Men of Letters Chapter House he had cleaned out. It was pretty much a replica of the bunker in Kansas. Everything was just smaller here. Smaller kitchen, smaller library, smaller garage. For a moment, Dean's imagination took hold, and the light became smoke, the walls became racks. Agonized screams of tortured souls filled his ears. Dean shook the vision out of his head, and the garage was once more, just the garage.

For two months, Dean had been on the mission of all missions-to change the past and reshape the future. Though the weight of the task seemed unbearable, he knew he was the only one who could shoulder it. He was, after all, the only one who had knowledge of the future. And the only one with the protection to keep that secret out of the wrong hands.

Amara had been very clear before she sent him back. The 'bond' they shared allowed her to protect his mind, but anyone else was fair game to anyone and anything that could read a mind. Angels, Demons, and everything in between. He couldn't tell Sam or Bobby or anyone what he knew. It was too much of a risk. And that meant he had to go at it alone.

No matter how much he wanted to find his brother, he had to stay away. He couldn't do what he had to do with Sam riding shotgun. His brother would ask questions.

How did you know we had to come here? How do you know that these people needed to be saved? Where did you learn that spell? All questions that Dean couldn't answer. He would see Sam again, but only after he had stopped the Apocalypse. Then he would kill Ruby and drop Sam in Bobby's panic room to dry out.

Everything will work out. Dean told himself. He just had to keep it together.

Once he loaded the Mustang a hunters arsenal, packed a bag for the road, and made sure Sandy was still chained up, Dean hit the road. Cleaning his replacement ride had been a way to keep his mind from running off in a hundred different directions, looking for answers he would never find. Sometimes the simple things were the best cure for unresolved anxiety. Out here, with nothing to do but drive, his mind began to wander right back into the problem areas of his life.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean slammed on the brakes. The back wheels of the mustang smoked as the car skid across the asphalt. In his chest, his heart slammed against his ribs.

"Amara," he sighed, leaning on the steering wheel. "A little warning before you drop-in would be nice."

"You haven't gone to see, Sam." Amara looked at him, confused, then she turned her attention to the road. "You are trying to save Anna Milton. The Fallen Angel."

"She doesn't deserve what happens to her," Dean said.

Back when Anna was trying to kill his parents, he didn't understand. He hadn't seen what Heaven and the Angels were capable of when it came to one of their own. After what that Naomi bitch did to Castiel, well, he had a pretty good idea of what happened to Anna.

"I'm not letting that happen to her again." He told Amara.

Amara hummed, watching the world outside of Dean's car. "My brother's creation."

Asshole brother. Dean shoved the thought to the dark recesses of his mind. It wouldn't do him any good to dwell on it. God had betrayed them, betrayed the world. He had shown his true colors, killed Jack, popped the lock on Hell, and tried to force the ending he wanted.

Brother killing brother.

"I am sorry for what my brother has done, Dean."

"Don't be. You tried to tell us what he was like and we didn't believe you. Back when you were still trying to get your revenge, you told us what God was like, and I didn't want to believe it. Because he was God, he was supposed to be on our side." Dean explained. "Without you...I don't know where I'd be right now. Probably dead. I owe you. For a lot of things."

"Then that means you have not forgotten our deal?" Amara asked. "It has been weeks."

"No, I haven't forgotten," Dean said. He wasn't lying when he said that he owed her. The entire universe owed Amara. "I'll get the Mark of Cain, okay?"

"It is no Cain's mark. It's my mark," Amara said. " And I need you to take it from Cain soon, Dean. Do not worry, you will be safe."

"Safe? With the Mark of Cain?" Dean asked. "The same mark that turned me into a killing machine? And then a demon?"

"That won't happen again," Amara said. "I am the power behind the Mark. It is how my brother kept me locked away for so long. I could never grow stronger than myself, so I could never break free."

"Amara-"

"I mean it, Dean." Amara interrupted. "We are bonded. The Mark will not corrupt you this time."

"Then why do I need to bear it? Why not leave it with Cain?" Dean said. "I mean when I took it from him, the guy went completely off the rails crazy."

"You know that isn't true, Dean," Amara said. "Cain didn't give you the Mark. He copied it, just like your brother said. It was killing the Demons in his home that forced Cain from the peace he found."

"Okay, so let's let him keep his peace," Dean said. "Why bother him at all?"

"Because Cain does not understand the importance of The Mark. No one does. Not even the Archangels understand it anymore." Amara said, and she reached across the car, cradling Dean's cheek in her hand. "Only you and I know."

"I told you I would take it. Just give me time." Dean said. "Okay?"

Amara pulled her hand back. "Decide soon, Dean. Or are deal will be voided."

Dena blinked, and the car was empty again. Son of a bitch.

He shifted the mustang into drive and pressed the gas pedal to the floor. There wasn't time to sit around and think about Amara's request. He had a ten-hour drive to Ohio, and he had to beat the demons and Angels there. It was only the beginning of October, so he was a month early, but he didn't want to risk it. Anna was human until she got her grace back. She was vulnerable and alone, and soon both Heaven and Hell would be coming for her.

He just had to get there first.

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Supernatural

Connor Beverly Behavioral Medicine Center, Ohio

"Anna Milton?"

Dean shut the door to the room behind him, and he set the lock in place. He didn't want a real orderly or a doctor to barge in while he was talking to Anna. No ordinary people could understand that what they were talking about was real. Angels and Demons. The Apocalypse. If anyone overheard he might end up bunking with Anna in the nuthouse.

Speaking of...she doesn't look too hot. Dean frowned.

Flat red hair and dressed in hospital clothes, she didn't look anything like the Angel that he last saw. For a moment, he wasn't sure she had heard. He was about to speak again when she turned, slowly, and tilted her face to look up at him. Her eyes were huge and hazel, ringed with red; her nose was equally red; and she sat with her lips slightly parted, breathing through her mouth.

"Dean? Not Dean Winchester," she said.

Dean nodded and stepped further into the room. "That's me."

"You're Dean?" Anna said, standing up from her bed. "The Dean?"

"Well, yeah." Dean shrugged, playing along. "The Dean, I guess."

"It's really you? Oh, my god." Anna gasped. "The Angels talk about you. You were in Hell, but Castiel pulled you out, and some of them think you can help save us. They don't like your brother at all."

Dean's shoulders slumped. With the way Sammy was going, it wasn't surprising that the Angels didn't like him. Even if they were winged dicks his little brother was still banging a demon. And drinking her blood.

"They talk about you all the time lately," Anna explained. "I feel like I know you."

"Well, you can get to know me better on the road," Dean said. "We got to get you out of here."

"What?"

Dean glanced out the window on the door to Anna's room. He ducked back when two burly men walked past the door, down the hall.

"You are a very special girl, Anna." He said. "If you can talk to Angels, then that explains why Demons are after you."

"Oh, no. No, no way. I don't talk to the Angels." Anna shook her head. "They probably don't even know I exist. I just kind of overhear them."

"The demons looking for you aren't going to care about the specifics," Dean said. "I need to get you out of here and somewhere safe."

"You came to save me?" Anna asked. "How'd you even find out about me?"

Dean opened the door when the hallway was clear and ushered Anna out of the room. "I'll tell you all about it in the car. Right now, we need to go."

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean spotted another orderly rounding the corner as the door swung shut behind them. Anna grabbed his hand, and he squeezed it gently, leading her down the hall.

"We're fine," he whispered. "Just act natural."

The orderly got closer to them, and they got closer to him, step by step until they were passing each other. Anna was strangling his hand, but Dean didn't let it show. He smiled pleasantly and nodded at the man as they passed.

"See?" he said as they rounded the corner. "Didn't I say we'd be fine?"

Anna locked eyes with him, and he could see how relieved she was. He could relate. Phycologist's had a field day with hunters and their 'delusions' about monsters.

He led Anna out of the building and to his car.

"Wow, nice ride," she said as Dean opened the passenger door for her.

"She's no Impala, but she gets the job done." He said and shut her door before circling around to the driver's seat. The '67 Mustang could never replace Baby, but after living in the timeline where the Titanic never sunk, Dean had a soft spot for the car. He had gotten rid of the orange racing stripes, though. All black was the way to go.

He shoved the key into the ignition and pulled away from the Behavior Medicine Center. A four dollar name for a nuthouse if he ever heard one.

"Thank you," Anna said once they put the building in the rearview. "For coming to save me."

"I'm surprised you believed me," Dean admitted. If he was remembering correctly Anna had been attacked by a demon before they found her. She knew monsters were really real before they found her in that church. "Most people I save aren't too happy admitting monsters are real."

"Well, most people can't hear Angels, so..." Anna shrugged.

Dean cracked a smile before reaching into the backseat. He grabbed one of his old jackets he left on the seat and handed it to Anna.

"Put this on. "It's got Enochian sigils stitched on the inside," he explained when she looked at him like he was the crazy one. "It will hide you from the Angels and Demons."

"The Angels? Why?" Anna asked, but she still slid the jacket on.

"Angels aren't what most people think they are," Dean said. "They're warriors of Heaven, and right now, they are at war. If they find out you can hear them, they will come for you."

"Oh..."

"Can you hear them now?" Dean asked.

"Not right this second, but a lot," Anna answered. "And I can't shut them out. There are so many of them."

Dean nodded as if he was putting together the puzzle of Anna Milton. He didn't want to give her any reason to think he knew more than he should.

"So they lock you up with a case of the crazies when really you were just tuning in to angel radio?"

"Yes. Thank you." Anna's relieved sigh filled the mustang.

"Do you remember when the voices started?"

"I can tell you exactly. August 8th."

Dean gripped the steering wheel. That was the day he had gotten out of Hell. He had no idea how she did it, but somehow Amara had gotten the Angels to come for him earlier than before. Alastair hadn't even managed to break him before Castiel airlifted him out of the hot-box. That should have stopped the Apocalypse from ever beginning but then the Witnesses rose. And Lilith started breaking more seals.

"That was the day you got out of Hell," Anna said. "First words I heard, clear as a bell. Dean Winchester is saved."

"Whatever you do, don't take that jacket off." Dean glanced at Anna. She didn't know she was a kick-ass Angel yet, and he didn't want to scare her, but she had to know what was going on. "Demons are going to want you bad if they find out what you can do. They get ahold of you, and they can hear everything that the other side's cooking. You're 1-900-Angel."

Anna smiled at the joke a Dean let out a small laugh. He was glad she wasn't losing it like most people.

"Hey, um, do you know, are my parents okay? I didn't go home. I was afraid."

"They're fine at the moment. I'll give a friend of mine a call later. He's another Hunter. He'll stop by and ward their house." Dean promised. "You're gonna have to call them, though. Spin a story about taking a break from school or something."

"Why?"

"When Heaven and Hell start looking for you, your parent's house is the first place they are going to go," Dean said. "Your parents think that you've gone nuts so when they find out that you've flown the cuckoos nest they will file a police report. It will be hard for them, Anna. I'm not going to lie. You're their daughter and they'll probably worry about you like crazy, but you've got to stay away. Any angel or demon that goes looking will see that your parents have no idea where you are and hopefully leave them alone."

"Hopefully?"

"The Apocolpayse is neigh. I can't promise that they'll be safe."

"So they get a police report, and I get a jacket." Anna looked down at the jacket, dwarfing her body.

"I am sorry, Anna," Dean said, he wished like hell he could save everyone. But he couldn't. No one could. "The jacket is only temporary. Once you get inked up, you can take it off."

"Inked up?"

Dean lifted one hand from the wheel and pulled the collar of his shirt down. He shifted towards Anna so she could see the tattoo on his chest. It had been one of the first things he had done after digging out of his own grave.

"I've got more. This ones to stop demon possession."

Anna shook her head. "I can't believe this is my life."

Dean let his collar snap back into place and focused on the road. He had to get Anna back to Rhode Island. Once she was inside the Chapter House she would be safe.

We just have to make one quick little stop.

Canonsburg, Pennsylvania

"What are we doing at Oktoberfest?" Anna asked, looking around at the town of Canonsburg. The whole place had been transformed for the celebration — suspenders and revealing dresses all around.

Dean handed her a giant pretzel, keeping one for himself. A blonde dressed as a barmaid walked by.

"Guten Tag," she said with a smile.

Anna frowned as Dean smiled, and his eyes followed the woman for a few steps. Only two of three before he turned his attention back to her.

"We aren't doing anything," he said, biting into his pretzel. "I'm going to get you set up in a motel, and then I have a hunt to finish."

"Finish?"

"I was on my way here to deal with it when I heard about you," Dean said, leading the way through the crowd.

That wasn't entirely true. He had been in Canonsburg waiting for the Shifter to go after Marrissa Wright. Damn thing never showed itself, and its waitress disguise had called in sick, according to Jaime. Even its house was empty. Dean had left town to find Anna, and the next day, the next freaking day! He had seen the attack in the papers. Marrissa Wright had been killed, and the only witness to the crime claimed it was a Vampire.

Fate really is a bitch. Dean thought. It was the only explanation for what happened. Which sucked, because there was nothing he could do about it. Not without the Fate-killing blade, and he didn't have a clue where that thing was. Probably still in Heaven.

"Let's get a drink first," Anna pulled him in the opposite direction of the motel.

Dean would have stopped her. He should have stopped her. But she was walking towards the bar where he knew shifter worked, so he followed instead.

Inside the bar, he saw the dark-haired monster first. She was hovering near Jaime at the bar, a folded napkin pressed between her red lips. He walked right up to them and held out his hand.

"Hello ladies," he smiled and introduced himself. "Agent Young, FBI."

Jaime took his hand first. Dean brought it up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Lucy was next, and when she touched his hand, she jerked back. Dean frowned, dropping his hand.

"Sorry, ma'am." he apologized. "I didn't know you had an injury."

"It's fine, I completely forget about it. my mistake." Lucy gave a tight smile and moved further behind the bar.

"What can I get for you?" Jaime asked.

"Two beers." Dean wrapped his knuckles on the table and turned away.

A few tables away from the bar, Anna was waiting for him.

"What was that?" she asked when he sat down across from her.

"That was me gathering much-needed intel," Dean said, lifting his hand he showed her the ring on his finger. "Silver ring. It burns some monsters when they touch it."

"So Lucy...?"

"You caught that, huh?"

Anna nodded. "Do you know what she is?"

"No," Dean lied. "But I do know that if silver burns her, a silver bullet will kill her. When she gets off work, I'll follow her home and then it's roll credits."

Since this monster liked movies that seemed like a good way to put it. Dean smiled at his own private joke as Anna spoke.

"So, this is what you do?" she asked. "You just drive around the country until you find some monster to fight?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

That's how it used to be anyway. Dean hadn't felt like that in a while, though. For the past few years, it seemed like they were just trying to keep up with every new world-ending threat that popped up.

"Well, that sucks," Anna said.

Dean chuckled at the blunt tone. Yeah, that was how rational people would see it. No functioning human being chased after the nightmares hiding in the dark?

"Maybe," he agreed, because most of the time it did suck. "But that's the job, and someone has to do it."

"Why does that someone have to be you?" Anna asked. "Why not let someone else fight the monsters? You said you had a friend who was going to help my parents. That must mean there are others...Hunters, you called them?"

"It doesn't have to be me," Dean said. "I choose this life, Anna. Every day I choose it."

"That's very brave of you." Anna's hand found his on the table.

"Two beers for Agent Young and his friend." Jaime appeared with their beers. She set the drinks down between them. "You let me know if there's anything else you need."

If he had been with Sam or anyone else for that matter, Dean would have put on his charm and asked for the time she got off. But Anna needed his help, and there wasn't time for fun tonight. He needed to kill the shifter quick and get Anna to Rhode island.

Dean grabbed his glass and lifted it into the air.

"Here's too crappy jobs." He toasted.

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Supernatural

"And you just left her in some secret bunker you heard about in Hell? I knew 'ya were an idjit, Dean, I just didn't know the extent."

Dean was always relieved to hear Bobby's voice, no matter how annoyed he sounded. He may not be blood, but he was the only family he and Sam had left at the moment. And after being forced to live without him, Dean was going to make sure Bobby had the opportunity to dress him down for many, many years to come.

"Anna's a tough girl, Bobby," Dean said, shifting his phone away from his ear to protect his hearing from Bobby's coming onslaught.

He was alone in a pine-scented motel room, packing up the research that he hadn't needed to waste his time doing. Dean knew who the witches were before he ever set foot in the town, and if not for the Angel's, he would have gone right after them. Instead, he had to come to a motel and pretend to piece the puzzle together.

"If what you think is true, then 'yer damn right she is," Bobby responded with his usual rancor. "A Fallen Angel? She's gonna have one hell of a target on her back."

"I'm gonna keep her safe. The angels don't know about her, and I don't think the demons do either. The fewer people who know about her, the better. For all of us." Dean said.

"So don't tell, Sam." Bobby's voice was resigned. The old hunter didn't like lying to Sam any more than Dean did.

"I can't risk him telling Ruby, Bobby," Dean said, and then tried to turn the conversation back into productive territory. "Did you tell Sam about the hunts I found?"

Ever since he got back topside, Bobby had been pushing him to talk to Sam. Dean couldn't. He knew what would happen if he did. His brother would be glad to see him, but Sam wouldn't stop drinking demon blood and talking to Ruby. He'd just do it in secret and lie about it.

"Yeah, I told him. Those were some nasty jobs, Dean. Ghost sickness? A Rugaru?" Bobby replied, sounding more like his usual self. "Sam got 'em done."

"Alone or?"

"I can't tell 'ya if Ruby was there or not. Vegas money's on yes, though." There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Why are we sending Sam on hunts?"

"Sam needs something to focus on other than Lilith."

Dean heard the door open behind him, letting a gust of air rush in, rustling the curtains. He turned to see Castiel enter the room, a second angel trailing behind him.

"Bobby, I've gotta go..."

"Angels?"

"Yeah."

Dean dropped the phone to his side. "Castiel, what the hell's going on? Who's this?"

"This is Uriel," Castiel said. "He's what you might call...a specialist."

He's what you might call a jackass. Dean glared at the angel. Son of a bitch was a turncoat, and Cas had no idea. No one did. He was looking forward to ganking the dick.

"What kind of specialist?" He asked.

"The raising of Samhain, have you stopped it?" Castiel asked as if he didn't hear Dean's words.

"Why?"

"Dean, have you located the witch?"

"Yeah, I located the witch."

"And is the witch dead?"

"Witches, plural. But yeah, they're both dead, and Samhain is still stuck in Hell." Dean looked at Uriel and smirked. "You're welcome."

"Why are you hidden from us?" Uriel demanded, stepping forward.

Castiel moved between the two. Dean kind of wished he hadn't. For all of Uriel's posturing, Dean knew the 'specialist' wouldn't do anything. He couldn't. No angel would risk killing the Michael Sword or send him back to Hell.

"Dean," Castiel asked. "Why did you cloak yourself from us?"

"Because I don't trust you," Dean admitted it freely. "Don't take it personally, Cas. I don't trust anyone, not really."

"We're trying to help you, Dean."

More like trying to help yourselves. Dean thought as he went back to packing. Heaven couldn't give two shits about the people on Earth. The angels didn't want to help humans. They wanted their prize fight.
As he shoved his lore books and clothes into his duffel, he grabbed the burner sitting at the bottom and tossed it to Castiel.

"Here. Since you can't just pop in on me, use that."

"A...phone?" Castiel asked.

"Yep, my numbers already programmed in. Just give me a call, and if I feel like talking, I'll tell you where I am."

"You impudent monkey," Uriel growled. "You will speak when we command it."

Dean shook his head. "Not anymore. I'm not some puppet with strings you can pull."

"Thank you, Dean." Castiel nodded, tucking the phone away in his coat. "Uriel, it is time to go."

There was a rustle of feathers, and Dean was once again alone in his room. He grabbed his bag and dropped his room keys on the nightstand. He wished he could have stuck around for Halloween, but there was still far too much for him to do. Sending Sam on some of the hunts he knew about was a good idea. It gave him time to focus on the future, and it kept his brother from running in circles trying to find Lilith, which was a dead end. Heaven and Hell needed Lilith to stay alive until it was time to break the Final Seal. Sammy was never going to kill her. Not with she wanted to die.

Once he was in his car, safe from spying ears, Dean pulled his phone out and called the first name in his contacts.

"Dean?" Anna's voice came through the line. She sounded worried. Dean couldn't blame her. "Did you find it?"

"I did, Anna." He leaned over and popped the glove compartment open. Inside was a small glass bottle filled with the Angel Grace. "I'm sorry. Have you remembered anything?"

"Symbols. Enochian. Like the tattoos you had me get."

"Anna, everything's pointing to you being an Angel," Dean said. "The comet in Kentucky the same time you were conceived. The centuries-old oak tree that grew at ground zero. Hearing the angels-"

"I know, Dean. I saw your research. You left it out on purpose, right?" Anna asked. "So I would find it?"

"I figured you'd be more inclined to believe me if you saw it for yourself."

Dean backed out of the motel parking lot while he waited for Anna to reply. Finding out you were an angel after spending your entire life believing you were human couldn't be easy. She had kept it together the first time around, but Dean was starting to think that was because so much was happening at the time. Her parents had just been murdered by demons. Castiel and Uriel were trying to kill her. Alastair was hunting them.
Anna wouldn't have had time to process until after everything was over, and Dean wasn't around for that. He had no idea what the fallout was.

"Are you coming back, Dean?" Anna finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Not right away. I've got a lead to check out in Tulsa. A faith healer that's supposedly the real deal."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"No. I was healed by one a while back. His wife had a Reaper on a leash, and the poor guy was killing someone every time he healed a somebody."

Dean still remembered the man that died so he could live. Marshall Hall. The poor bastard.

"Oh, my god."

"It might be nothing-" Dean sighed.

"-but it also might be something," Anna interrupted. "You've got to check it out. I understand."

"Anna, the second I'm done, I'll be on my way. With the Grace. We'll figure this out." Dean promised.

"Maybe I don't want to," Anna said, and the line went dead.

Dammit. Dean tossed his phone into the passenger seat.

Tulsa, Oklahoma

A pale blue tendril of energy floated into the air. A crying man pulled against the chains holding him to the cot. He twisted and turned and pulled.

"Shh...shh...shh..." A voice whispered above. "It's okay. You're safe. You're home."

Above the cot, Tamiel stood. His suit untouched by the dust and dirt in the barn. Setting the bloody knife in his hand down, he bent over. He opened his mouth and breathed, sucking the energy in the air into his body.
The power inside of him was growing. Every time he fed, he could feel himself growing stronger and stronger.

I need more. Tamiel looked down at the man who had come to him months ago. A chain smoker that had been diagnosed with cancer. Ronnie had done well to bring the man here. However, he was fading. Tamiel knew the man would not live through the night.

"Why have you come here, Hunter?" He asked, turning away from his meal.

"You know what I am? Good."

The corner of Tamiel's mouth turned upwards into a cruel smile.

The hunter continued. "If you know what I am, then you know why I'm here." He held up a gun.

Tamiel's smile grew. "You are more foolish than you know. That gun will not harm me."

"We'll see about that." the hunter said, he aimed his gun and shot.

Tamiel didn't even try to move. He had never understood what their father saw in these creatures. He had walked this earth for more than a thousand years, and all he saw were disappointments and food. Raising his arm, he gave a quick flick of her rest. The hunter didn't move.

"I bet you were expecting to send me flying through a wall, huh?" the hunter laughed. "That's not happening tonight."

The color drained from Tamiel's face.

"I...what have you done?"

The hunter tucked his gun away and walked forward, pulling a set of chains from the bag on his back.

"That bullet in your shoulder? I call it an Angel trap bullet. You can't use your angelic powers while it's inside of you." The hunter explained.

Tamiel's eyes dilate to saucers as the chains were attached to his wrist and ankles. There was nothing he could do. He could feel it. His powers were gone and his body was weak. Just moving his arm a moment ago was tiring.

The hunter left him standing there and moved to the beds. 

"They're all dead. Or dying." Tamiel said. "And they can't be saved."

"I know." the hunter's voice was close. Right in Tamiel's ear. "Because I know what you are. And you are going to help me."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you won't have a choice."

Dean slammed his fist into the back of Tamiel's head. The soul-eating angel hit the ground like a bag of bricks. The bastard was still conscious. Even without their powers, angels were some sturdy sons of bitches. It'd take more than a punch to put their light's out. He grabbed a fistful of the Tamiel's jacket and rolled the angel over.

"Ah, here we go," he cheered.

Tucked against the angel's side was what he had come to Tulsa for. Dean was more than happy to stop the Grigori from eating any more souls, but that was the job. What Dean was after? The sword? That was personal.

He picked the weapon up, sliding a finger over the three-sides of the blade. Tamiel glared up at him. Dean smiled back down.

"I'm sure you've heard, but angels are walking the earth in force," he said. "And if I'm honest, you guys are grade-A dicks. Lucky for me, now I've got a way to fight back."

An Angel Blade would be better. Less bulky, easier to conceal. Dean would trade the sword for one soon. He tilted the blade down, touching the tip to Tamiel's chest. For now, this will do.

"Are you going to kill me?" Tamiel asked. "You pathetic, bottom-feeding disaster."

"See, like I said," Dean pulled the sword away. "Dicks."

He wanted to kill him. The Grigori deserved to die for what he had done — spending centuries eating human souls. Ruining countless lives, killing Amelia. Dean was itching to kill him.

"Be grateful that you're useful to me," Dean said, tapping Tamiel's cheek with the sword. "If you weren't, I'd kill you right now."

"Then, why don't you?"

"You're an angel," Dean said. "A twisted, disgusting, disgrace of an angel. But! An angel none the less. Do you know that means?"

"Enlighten me." Tamiel snarked.

Dean smiled. "It means that you know things. Important things that I need to know. And you have angelic Grace. You, my friend, are a walking talking battery."

"You're going to drain me?" Tamiel asked with a laugh. "Become the very monster you came here to kill?"

"Oh, I'm going to do it for me. I'm not like you. No, you're going to help me save the humans you hate." Dean said. "Think of it as punishment for everything you've done. Pretty fitting if you ask me. I'd go so far as to call it poetic justice."

Dean strapped the sword to the side of his bag and hauled Tamiel to his feet.

"Now, let's me and you go for a ride."

Chapter Text

Dean and Sam pass a bottle between themselves as they barrel down a dark country road. Dean cranks up the tunes. Sam smiles and lays back into the Impala's passenger seat. They are right where they're supposed to be.

"How long till we get there?" Sam asks.

Dean glances sideways at Sam. "Dude, that's up to you now."

He smiles, and Sam knows why. Dean always loved to make him feel like the little brother.

"You're in the driver's seat, Dean. How is it up to me?"

No answer.

"Dean? You in there? Should you even be driving?" Sams asks, concern on his face. He sits up.

Dean turns toward Sam.

"We'll never get there, Sam. It's just you now, little brother. I'm gone."

* * * *

Sam woke with a start. His arm flailed to the right, knocking the lamp from the bedside table. Dammit.

Pushing himself up off the bed, Sam reached down to pick the lamp up. But another hand beat him to it, lifting the lamp off the ground and putting it back where it belonged.

"Another nightmare?"

Sam looked up. Ruby stood over him with a concerned smile on her face. Sam had grown used to the expression over the past few months. It was the same face Sam was met with when she showed up on his doorstep after Dean had gone to Hell, and after she got a 'recycled' body. They hadn't been friends. He trusted her more than Dean had, but they weren't friends. Yet she came to him because Ruby knew he was hurting, and she knew she could help.

Bleary-eyed, Sam nodded. This was life without his brother. And he hated it.

"Well, I'm not sure reality is going to be any better," Ruby said as she sat down next to him. "I ran into some demons on my way here. They gave up some interesting information. The-"

"Demons lie, Ruby." Sam cut in. "Whatever they said probably isn't true."

Ruby brushed her hand on the back of Sam's. "You better hope it is. They said Dean's out of the pit."

Sam withdrew his hand from Ruby's.

"That's not funny."

Ruby pursed her lips. "I wouldn't joke about something like this, Sam. Not about Dean. I know how much you care about him."

"If that was true, you wouldn't have said anything at all. My brother is dead, Ruby. And...and I don't want to hear lies from some low-rank demon about how he escaped Hell. Nobody can do that."

"Your dad did."

"As a ghost!"

"Sam, I wouldn't have said something if I didn't check it out first," Ruby said. "You remember what your friend Bobby said about the Angels and the Seals?"

Sam nodded. Of course, he did. "It would be kind of hard to forget about the pending Apocalpyse, Ruby."

"Yeah, well, the reason Lilith had to wait so long to start breaking the seals is that she couldn't break the first. No demon could."

"What do you mean?"

Ruby didn't speak. She looked down her boots. Sam stood up and pulled her up with him.

"Ruby, tell me."

She shook her head. "You don't want to know, Sam."

"Then why bring it up? What was the point of saying anything, huh? Because this...this isn't funny, alright. You're talking about my brother. Now tell me, or us, me and you, we're done."

"Sam-"

"Tell me!" Sam squeezed her arms. Too hard for a human, but she wasn't human.

Ruby pushed him away. Glaring at him as if she could read his thoughts.

"It is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man shed's blood in Hell." She sneered. "As he breaks, so shall it break."

Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. Yet, it made sense. He had known what was waiting for Dean in Hell. They both did. All biblical lore was pretty clear on what the pit was like — an eternity of torture for sinners. And Dean had spent his life screwing over the demons who ran the place. His brother was going to get the worst Hell had to offer. That was why he had tried so hard to save him.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Ruby said, her anger fading into remorse. "I shouldn't have told you. But it all adds up. The angels got wind of Dean being in Hell, and they went in to save him. I've never heard of angels storming Hell, Sam. No one has, because it's never happened."

"Until Dean."

"Until Dean." Ruby nodded. "And why would angels make an exception for your brother? Other than the fact that only he could start the apocalypse."

"Dean wouldn't break."

"Oh Sam," Ruby shook her head. "Hell was literally made to break human souls. Twist them into something dark and cruel."

"Dean wouldn't-"

"Call Bobby," Ruby said. "The demons mentioned that Bobby Singer was working with the angels. If Dean really was rescued from the pit by angels, then he would know."

Sam picked up his phone and did just that. Bobby had forgiven him for dropping off the map after Dean's death and had even started throwing him cases. It was good. Hunting helped keep him occupied while Ruby hunted down leads on Lilith. And it helped mend the divide that had grown between him and Bobby. They were in a good place now, and Bobby would have told him if Dean was alive.

Bobby's gruff voice came after the second ring.

"Sam, you take care of that Siren?"

"Is Dean alive?"

"Sam-"

"Is Dean alive, Bobby!"

"Watch your tone with me, boy." Bobby's voice was hard.

"Bobby, please. Just tell me." Sam pleaded.

He waited with bated breath. He could hear Bobby breathing on the other end. The hesitation was answer enough. If Dean wasn't alive, Bobby would have told him right away.

"He is, isn't he? And he's been alive for months."

Sam shook his head. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. Dean would have told him. His brother knew how torn up he was about him going to Hell. And yet, Dean had been alive for months, months! And he hadn't reached out.

"And you knew." He said. "You knew, Bobby. You knew, and you didn't tell me."

"I wanted to tell you, Sam. But Dean-"

"Screw Dean, Bobby," Sam shouted, next to him Ruby jumped. "My brother has been alive for months. Neither of you thought I'd like to know Dean was safe?"

"Hey, don't yell at me. Dean tried to talk to you."

"When?"

"You were the first person he tracked down after getting topside, Sam. Showed up on my doorstep a week later, talking about Ruby and demon blood. He saw you, Sam. What you've been doing while he was gone."

"Bobby, I can explain," Sam said.

"Sam, that's not going to change anything. Dean can't get near you."

"He hates me..." Sam's voice broke. "Doesn't he?"

Of course, he did. Dean had never wanted him to use his powers. It was practically his dying wish. And the first thing he sees after coming back to life was his brother drinking demon blood and using the very powers he hated.

"What?" Bobby snapped. "Course he don't hate you. I doubt he could even if he tried."

"Then, why stay away?"

"Because the angels are on Dean's ass. They didn't lift him out of the furnace out of the goodness of their hearts, you know. Dean told me they had work for him, and that they're keeping an eye on him. He didn't want to risk them finding out about what you're doing-"

"So he stayed away." Sam nodded. That was just like his brother. "Where is he?"

"Sam-"

"I'm serious, Bobby. I need to see him."

"You can't. The angels-"

"I'm not scared of angels."

"Well, you should be. Ya'd be a damn fool if you weren't. I'll tell Dean that you know."

The dial tone beeped, and Sam threw his phone across the room. He turned to Ruby. She was in the kitchen, standing over a map of the US.

"You need to find Dean, right?" She asked, and she lit the map on fire.

Sam glanced at the smoke detectors on the wall.

"Relax," Ruby smirked, her eyes turning black. "The fire is our friend. Besides, the only part of the map we need is the 'where's Dean' part. Out."

At her command, the flames vanished. Sam stared down at the charred remains. Not a single part of the map was readable.

"Where is he?"

"Hidden," Ruby answered. "By someone, or something powerful."

"Dammit." Sam cursed, running his hands through his hair. What had he expected? When had anything ever gone his way without going to crap first?

"If you want to find your brother, Sam, we're going to have to do it the old fashioned way," Ruby said. She headed for the door. "I'll see what I can find."

Sam grabbed her arm. "Wait. Ruby, it's been weeks. I need it."

"You don't seem to happy about it." Ruby pouted.

Sam's grip on her arm tightened. He didn't have time for her games. Not today.

"It's okay, Sammy." Ruby pulled a knife from her boot. "Don't worry. You can have it."

Sam leaned forward as she cut open her arm. He had to get stronger.

Portsmouth, Rhode Island

Dean stepped out of the makeshift dungeon that used to be a bedroom.

"You seem far away." Anna leaned back against the wall outside the door and regarded Dean.

Anytime he was in their secret lair; he spent it working over the angel he had captured. A Grigori that had been feeding off human souls for thousands of years. She didn't care about the torturing, maybe she should, but it sounded like Tamiel deserved everything he was getting. No, she was worried about Dean. Even when he wasn't torturing, it was like his mind was always there. Thinking of more and more ways he could break Tamiel.

"What's going on in there?" Anna tapped Dean's head.

Dean pulled the bloody apron off his chest.

"I'm good. Don't I look good?"

"You do. I was just wondering what you were thinking." Anna said, then held her hands up in defense. "I know you said you wanted to keep me away from this. But-"

"But nothing. You're an angel, Anna. Angels don't torture other angels." Dean in fact knew that wasn't true. When Metatron kicked the angels out of Heaven, the fighting between factions had gotten dirty. Angels had no problem torturing each other when push came to shove, but the angels here, in this time, hadn't done that. They already wanted Anna dead for falling and if they found out she was torturing other angels, well, he didn't want to think about what'd they do to her if they ever got her.

Dean knew he couldn't say all that to Anna. She hadn't even taken her grace back yet. She was still human. So he smiled and made jokes and tried to keep busy. That just made her more insistent.

"Dean, I can help. Let me help. I'm here all the time anyway."

"And I'm sorry about that. Really, Anna, I am. " Dean said. "But if you leave and get caught, I won't be able to rescue you. Not from Heaven or Hell, and that's where you'll be heading."

"You think I should eat me grace then? Get my power back? Protect myself?" Anna asked.

"I didn't say that."

"But you were thinking about it. It's okay Dean, I think about it too." She said. "I want to be able to help."

"No." Dean shook his head. "If you want to become an angel again, you do it for you. No one else. Not me. Not the world. You."

"You know what the first thing I see every morning is, Dean?" Anna asked. "My grace. Sitting right next to my bed, completely useless. The power of Heaven is literally at my fingertips, and I'm so terrified of losing my emotions. I just leave it there."

Dean balled up his bloody apron and tossed it on the ground. "Then leave it there. Like I said, it's your choice."

In the pocket of his jeans, Dean's phone rang. "To be continued," he told Anna and answered the call.

"Yeah, Bobby?"

"Sam knows."

"What?"

"Sam knows, Dean," Bobby repeated. "I don't know how he found out, but he did. Called here in a tizzy."

Son of a bitch! Dean wanted to punch something. He had a good idea of who spilled the beans about his resurrection. And when he found her, he was going to kill her.

"Ruby?" Bobby offered as an answer to the unasked question.

"Who else."

"Yeah, well, whoever it was, he knows now. And he's gonna be coming after you, Dean," Bobby said. "So 'ya'd better try and lose the angels on your shoulders before he finds you."

A beep in his ear alerted Dean to another call coming in. He pulled the phone away and checked the caller ID.

"Speak of the devils." he scoffed. "Don't hang up, Bobby."

He answered the incoming call.

"Dean?" Castiel's gravely voiced had Anna tensing.

Dean held up a hand, silently trying to get her to relax. She was safe in the Chapter house. No angel was getting in unless he allowed it.

"Make it quick, Cas. I'm kinda in the middle of something," he said.

There was a rustling on the other end. Dean frowned. "Cas, are you okay?"

"You are needed." Uriel's voice replaced Castiels.

"Needed? I just got back from needed!" Dean knew what Uriel wanted. The angels had Alastair and they couldn't break him. So they were calling for help. Except he didn't torture people in Hell this time around.

"Now, you mind your tone with me," Uriel warned.

"No, you mind your damn tone with me."

Dean was done letting angels boss him around. And he damn sure wasn't going to listen to a son of a bitch like Uriel. The guy was a turncoat. He was working for Lucifer. Cas would see that soon and hopefully kill the bastard. Or let him do it.

"Put Castiel on the phone," he told the traitorous angel.

"Listen to me you-"

"You have five seconds, or I'm hanging up." Dean threatened.

There was more rustling as the phone was handed back to Castiel.

"Dean, seven angels have been murdered. All of them from our Garrison." Castiel said. "The last one was killed tonight."

"Demons?" Dean asked, even though he already knew who was doing the killing. "How are they doing it?"

"We don't know."

"Okay, so you need my help to hunt down a demon who can kill angels."

"No," Castiel said. "We have Alastair. He knows who is killing the angels, but his will is very strong. He won't talk. We've arrived at an impasse."

"Yeah, well, he's like a black belt in torture," Dean said. "I mean, you guys are out of your league."

He mouthed 'Alastair' to Anna, who was staring at him, wanting to know what was happening.

"That's why we have called you. You know his tricks from..." Castiel trailed off.

Dean was more than willing to pick up the slack. "From my time in Hell. So the torturee becomes the torturer is that it?"

"Yes."

"Heh, you know Cas, when I was in Hell, Alastair offered me a deal at the end of every day. He'd stop torturing me if I picked up a blade myself. I never did."

Not this time. Dean had thought, hoped really, that if he held out, the Apocalpyse would never happen. Lucifer wouldn't rise. Ellen and Jo would die. Sam wouldn't end up in the frickin Cage with two pissed off Archangels. It was a fools dream.

"This is not the same."

"Sounds like it to me," Dean said. "Alastair is a demon. He asked me to torture people, and I said no. Now, it might be angels asking this time, but my answer is still the same."

"My brothers and sisters are dying, Dean. I would not ask this of you if I had any other choice."

"Cas-"

"I'm not asking as an Angel of the Lord, Dean. I'm asking as your friend. Please help me."

Oh, christ. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew he had been changing things. The way he talked to Castiel was completely different than when they first met. As much as he tried to, he couldn't separate this Castiel and the friend he left behind. He just hadn't expected Castiel to be so affected by the change. Yet the angel who had threatened to throw him back in the pit was now calling him a friend.

"Give me ten minutes," he said and switched calls. "Bobby, you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. What'd the angels want?" Bobby asked.

"They captured Alastair, whose a big deal downstairs. And they want me to torture him." Dean explained.

"Why?"

"Apparently, a demon has figured out a way to kill angels. Alastair knows who, but the angels can't break him."

Bobby scoffed. "And they think you can? No offense."

"None taken," Dean said. "Listen, Bobby. I've got to go, but I'll talk to you later."

"Dean, wait. Are you okay?" Bobby asked.

"Course I am. Just busy."

"I'll say. You've haven't slowed down since you got topside. Stopping the witnesses? Killing the witches trying to summon Samhain? Hell, Dean, you captured an angel." Bobby said. "And don't get me started on that Reaper business."

"Bobby-"

"Yeah, Pamela told me about that. Are you crazy, boy?"

"Castiel was there in case something went wrong."

"Oh, one of the angels who want you to torture a demon was there. Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Dean snorted. "Since when do you care about torturing demons?"

"Since you came back from the pit different. Something's changed in you, Dean." Bobby said.

"You don't think I can handle it?"

"I didn't say that, Dean. I'm worried about you."

"Don't be. I'm fine, Bobby. And I'll deal with Sam, just give me a little time." Dean hung up before Bobby could say anything else. He didn't need to be told he was different. He was very much aware of that.

"You're not fine."

Dean sighed and looked towards the ceiling. "Anna," he said. "Not now, please."

"You're pushing yourself too hard, Dean. The angels might be impressed, but I'm not."

"The angels are impressed?" Dean asked. That didn't sound right.

"You're gonna end up killing yourself," Anna said, ignoring his question.

"I'm sure the angels will bring me back if that happens."

"Dean-"

"I've got to go, Anna. Demons to torture and all that."

Chapter Text

The only thing Sam felt at the moment was the intense need to harm his brother. It was almost as if he was a different person. He could literally feel the anger coursing in his veins. Dean had pulled a lot of crap over the years, but he had never done anything close to this. For that reason, Sam was actually glad he had been forced to find Dean a slower way.
Weeks ago, he and Ruby had tried to use a spell to find his brother. A spell that had failed, forcing Sam to call in favor after favor to find his brother. That was a good thing, though. Sam could see that now. The rage towards Dean he still felt was nothing compared to what he had been feeling back then.

Now, he had finally gotten a lead that wasn't cold, and he was knocking on the door of the author of the Supernatural books.

"Hello?" A short, curly-haired man answered the door.

"Chuck Shurley, I'm Sam Winchester." Sam introduced himself. "We need to talk."

Chuck assented with a weary smiled. He opened the door wider and let Sam in, leading him into a cluttered living room.
Seeing that the room was covered in scattered papers, and beer bottles, Sam's first thought was that somehow Dean had sent him on a wild goose chase. Contacted the hunters that had given him the lead to throw him off his game.

"Yeah, I figured you'd be showing up soon. After Dean, I expected it." Chuck said.

"You met my brother? When?"

"A few days ago," Chuck said. He sat down at his computer and started typing.

Sam peered over his shoulder. He was curious about what Chuck was writing. Sam frowned as he read word for word what he was doing.

"You kept writing?" He asked.

Chuck nodded, reaching for the glass of whiskey next to his keyboard. "I can't stop. Even after the publisher went bankrupt, I kept writing."

"Then that means you've been writing about Dean. What he's been doing since he got out of the pit?"

"Of course. But I can't show you." Chuck said, shaking his head. "Dean told me not to."

"Dean's not here." Sam clapped Chuck on the shoulder. "And I've got a gun."

"They're right over there." Chuck spluttered, pointing to the bookcase in the corner. "You and your brother are both really violent. You know that?"

"I do. And so do you." Sam said. "Considering you've been writing about our lives."

"True." Chuck agreed.

Sam pulled the books from their shelves. He was starting to think that not finding Dean here was for the best. With Chuck's books, he could find out exactly what Dean had been up to since returning from Hell. And whether Bobby is telling the truth.

"Your brother doesn't hate you, Sam," Chuck said.

Sam turned around.

"What are you talking about?" He saw the new words typed on the computer screen. "That's not annoying at all."

"Sorry, I can't help it."

"It's fine," Sam said, looking down at the books in his hand. "Hey, Chuck?"

"Yeah?"

"How much do you know about me?"

"What do you mean?"

Sam swallowed. He didn't want to ask.

"Oh. You want to know if I know about the demon blood." Chuck said, answering Sam's unasked question. "I do. I didn't want to write it into the books at first. I was afraid it would make you look unsympathetic."

"Unsympathetic!"

Chuck jumped. Sam frowned, he hadn't been trying to scare the guy.

"Yeah, come on, Sam. I mean, sucking blood?" Chuck asked. "You got to know that's wrong."

"At first?" Sam held an unpublished book up. "Does that mean that you did end up putting it in here?"

"I'm sorry," Chuck said, flashing Sam a sympathetic smile. "I didn't know you were a real person at the time, and the fans wouldn't have believed it if Dean stayed away from you just because you were banging a demon."

"Is this all of them?" Sam asked, holding up the books he was stealing. He had to get back to the motel.

"Yes."

"Thank you."

Sam shoved past Chuck. He stopped at the front door and turned around.

"Don't ever publish these books, Chuck."

Sam left the house, dumping the books in the back seat of the Impala. He had a lot of reading to do.

The Illinois clouds hung low in the sky, threatening rain.

Dean looked southward. He was twenty miles away from Sam. It would be a short drive, thirty minutes at the very most. Less if he didn't bother with speed limits. Dean could ignore what he saw, turn the car around, and be there at Sam's motel room. He'd embrace him. Dean would tell him that he was back, that it was really him. He didn't know how it happened, but he was back.

Dean would probably hate Illinois forever now. It was where Sam was with Ruby. Where his little brother holed up in a motel with a monster and drank her blood. Dean wondered why he wasn't storming into that room. He should. He should kick down that door and kill that manipulating bitch. But he didn't. Because Sam was there and despite it going against every instinct in his body, Dean knew that to kill Sam, he'd have to fight his brother. He'd seen it enough traveling the country — junkies protecting their stashes.

* * * *

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Sam tossed Chuck's first unpublished book away. "Dean's actually trying to twist this into some kind of drug addiction. I'm not drinking demon blood for kicks. I'm getting strong enough to kill Lilith.

He'd know that if he bothered talking to me. Sam glared at the book lying on the floor. He had only read one, and he hated it. Reading about how Dean crawled out of his own grave, the nightmares his brother had every night. It was hard. And Sam didn't even know how to explain Dean's backward ass justifications for hiding from his own brother.

"You shouldn't have read that," Ruby said. She held up her own book. "These things are useless. Fun, but useless."

"Fun?" Sam asked. "You think reading about Dean's life is fun?"

"Definitely. The latest edition get's steamy." Ruby said, smiling as she started to read aloud. "Anna knew what she had to do. Alastair had nearly killed Dean today. Leaky pipes could not undo the work of angels. They were agents of fate. Dean was in danger, and she had to help. She needed her grace back. She needed to become an angel once more. And if this was her last night as a human being, she was going to spend it how she wanted. Anna opened Dean's door, leaving a trail of clothing in her wake as she walked towards the bed."

"Oh my god, please stop." Sam screwed his eyes closed.

"What? You didn't like it?" Ruby smiled. "It gets better. Listen to this."

"Ruby, if you read any more of that, I will kill you."

Ruby laughed, closing the book. "I didn't take you for a prude, Sam."

"I just don't want to hear about my brother's sex life," Sam said, cringing as he said the words. Even saying them made him feel gross. "Can we just focus on finding, Dean?"

"Oh, is that what you were doing?" Ruby asked. "I thought you wanted to learn all about what fun Dean was getting up to without you?"

"I don't care about that," Sam said. "I just want to find Dean."

"Sure, you do. If you didn't want to know about what Dean's been doing," Ruby waved her book in the air. "You wouldn't have taken these from Chuck."

Sam shook his head. It would a complete invasion of his brother's privacy. Even reading the first one felt wrong.

"Sam, it's okay to be curious. Dean's been lying to you for months. Letting you believe he was still suffering in Hell. In your place. You deserve to know what he has been doing."

"Ruby-"

"And if you read them, you might find a clue about where he's hiding his pet angel."

Sam frowned. "Why do you care about that?" he asked her.

"I don't. But you do." Ruby said. "Because wherever she is, Dean obviously spends time there. We find her-"

"We find my brother." Sam finished. That made sense. "Give me the second book."