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Till Death Do Us Part Ch 1

Tell It To The Frogs

Till Death Do Us Part Masterlist

(TW): swearing, Merle, skinning squirrels, violence, gore, domestic violence (Ed), mentions of drugs, animal death, Reader has long enough hair to braid and her dialogue isn't written to have a southern accent but you can imagine it if you want, T-Dog calling Merle a 'cracker'

3rd Person POV:

Thunder rumbled over Merle Dixon's head as he talks to himself. His hand it still cuffed to a pipe on the roof of a building he was supposed to loot with the group him, his brother and sister-in-law met.

"That's right. You heard me, bitch. You got a problem? Bring it on if you're man enough. Or take it up the chain if you're a pussy. You heard me, you pussy-ass noncom bitch. You ain't deaf. Take it up the damn chain of command. Or you can kiss my lily-white ass." The elder Dixon brother laughed, continuing to talk like he's telling a story to someone invisible. "That's right. That's what I said. You heard me. And then this idiot, he takes a swing, You know, and well..."

A lot of factors could be making him this delirious: dehydration, exposure, hunger, his psyche being fried by the drugs over the years. Who knows? His wrist is covered in blood from when he struggled against the handcuffs that the cop put on him. He laughs hysterically again, "Oh, you should've seen the look on his face when I punched out his front teeth. Yeah, five of 'em. Pow! Pow! Just like that. Huh. Oh my god. Sixteen months in the stockade... Oh, that's what them teeth cost me. That was... That was hard time, but by God, it was worth every minute of it Just to see that prick spit his teeth out on the ground. Yes sir, worth every minute."

As if snapping back into his senses, Merle looks down at his hand that's handcuffed to the metal pipe. The older Dixon starts to yank at the cuffs again, " Oh no. No no! No no! No no!" He grunts, kicking the pipe, laying on his back for better leverage. He's yelling, spit flying out of his mouth as he looks up at the dark cloud covered sky, "God! God! No no! God! Jesus! No no, merciful Christ! No no. No no. God, help me! God! God! Jesus, please! Jesus, please. Help me! Come on now!"

Walkers begin to try to get through the door. But, thanks to T-Dog's quick thinking, they can't get through with the door chained like it is. Growling and snarling shuts Merle up quick as he stares in horror at their rotted faces. He starts to lay down, his voice softer but scared, "Help me. No no. Oh, no no. Oh my god. Shh shh shh shh shh." Sobs start to leave his mouth as he slides under the pipe to try and hide himself. "No, Jesus. Jesus. No no no no no no. Please. I didn't behave, I know. I know I'm being punished. I know. I... Oh, I deserve it. I deserve it. I've been bad. Help me now. Show me the way. Go on, tell me what to do. Tell me. Tell me. God!"

Merle starts to toss his belt, trying to get the hacksaw that was left behind with the tools belonging to Dale Horvath. "That's okay. Never you mind, silly Christ boy. I ain't begged you before. I ain't gonna start begging now. I ain't gonna beg you now! Don't you worry about me! Begging you ever! I'll never beg you! I ain't gonna beg you! I never begged you before. Oh shit. No!" He peeks up to see the walkers still trying to get through.

~~~~~~~

Rick Grimes sits in the passenger seat of the cube van with Morales sitting next to him. Andrea, Jacqui, and T-Dog sit in the storage part, sweaty and exhausted. "Best not to dwell on it. Merle got left behind." Morales tells Rick, "Nobody's gonna be sad he didn't come back... Except maybe Daryl and (Y/N)."

Rick's eyebrows furrow as he glances at Morales, "Daryl and (Y/N)?"

Morales nods, "His brother and sister-in-law, Daryl's wife." Behind the cube van drives a red Dodge Charger, the kind you could only afford if you're rich or a drug dealer. The alarm is blaring from the vehicle. A young Korean man sits behind the wheel, Glenn, who is whooping and hollering in excitement. As the sportscar speeds past the van, Morales looks at Rick again. "At least somebody's having a good day."

~~~~~~~

1st Person POV:

God, I hate being a fucking housewife. Or tent wife. Either way my day is full of laundry and cleaning. No one's out getting hurt so my expertise isn't needed right now anyway. I'm close enough that I can hear Lori Grimes scolding her son about fidgeting while getting a haircut. Then Shane Walsh talking about just waiting till Carl has to start shaving. Yeah, I don't miss that. Not that Daryl ever cared.

A soft laugh escapes my mouth at the bold talk about catching frogs. It ain't really that hard. A few laughs are exchanged between the three before a loud car alarm is heard in the distance. Everyone is on alert, Shane standing up from the log he was sitting on, yelling, "Talk to me, Dale!"

Amy, Andrea's sister, runs around the RV to the front of it as Carol pulls her daughter, Sophia, close. I walk past Carol and Sophia, up next to Amy, arms crossing over my chest. "I can't tell yet." Dale calls down.

"Is it them? Are they back?" Amy asks with hope.

I put a hand on her shoulder with a reassuring squeeze as Dale looks through his binoculars again, "I'll be damned."

"What is it?" I look up at the older man who's standing on top of the RV.

"A stolen car is my guess." A red Charger pulls up to camp, Glenn getting out of the car, making Dale yell, "Holy crap. Turn that damn thing off!"

Glenn just shrugs and says, "I don't know how!"

Amy shrugs my hand off her shoulder and walks over to Glenn. Shane yells over the alarm, "Pop the hood, please. Pop the damn hood, please."

Amy also yells over the alarm at the same time as Shane, "My sister Andrea..."

"Pop the damn hood!"

Glenn slides back in the car, "What? Okay okay. Yeah yeah yeah. Yeah yeah!" And he pops the hood.

"Is she okay? Is she all right?" Amy insists. God this was overstimulating.

Once the hood is open, Shane disconnects the battery and Glenn gets out of the car, the annoying ass alarm stopping. Glenn puts his hands up, "She's okay! She's okay!"

Amy only gets more frantic, "Is she coming back?" Amy is such a sweet girl but oh my God.

"Yes!" Glenn yells.

Amy continues to hurl questions at Glenn, "Why isn't she with you? Where is she? She's okay?"

"Yes! Yeah, fine. Everybody is. Well," Glenn shoots a sympathetic glance my way. "Merle not so much."

"What the hell happened to Merle?" I ask, eyebrows furrowing. Great now I have to play damage control when Daryl gets back.

Glenn sighs, taking his hat off to run his hand through his hair before putting the cap back on, "I'll tell you when everyone else gets back, alright?"

I huff and nod, crossing my arms over my chest. I already know it was my idiot brother-in-law's fault, whatever the fuck he did.

Shane leans over the engine of the Charger, "Are you crazy, driving this wailing bastard up here? Are you trying to draw every walker for miles?"

Dale's eyes glance around as he interjects behind Shane, "I think we're okay."

Shane looks over his shoulder at the older man, "You call being stupid okay?"

"Well, the alarm was echoing all over these hills. Hard to pinpoint the source." When Shane gives Dale a look, the older man continues, "I'm not arguing. I'm just saying." Dale then turns his attention to Glenn, pointing at him, "It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?"

"Hey, at least they're alive and alright." I interject, making Shane also give me a look. Good thing, I don't care.

"Sorry." Glenn holds up his hands in surrender then gestures to the car. "Got a cool car."

A truck pulls up by our church van and then Andrea hops down from the back, jogging over to Amy who starts crying. Jacqui walks over towards camp as the sisters hug, Morales' kids and wife running over to him as well. T-Dog follows out after Jacqui. It's alright. I get my reunion in the next day or two. He promised.

I glance at Lori sympathetically as she leads Carl away from the reunion of family members, trying to keep her son in good spirits. Shane watches longingly as Carl starts to cry, his mother kneeling down in front of him.

My attention is pulled away from them as Jacqui pulls me into a hug. I hug her back without question, knowing this is her apology for Merle. "I'm sorry, Sweetie."

"S'Alright." I smile sadly, "I can guarantee it was his fault anyway."

Jacqui just gives me a knowing look and a sympathetic smile before walking off.

"You are a welcome sight." Dale chuckles as he hugs Morales. "I thought we'd lost you folks for sure."

Shane has a hand on his hip and his gun perched on his shoulder, "How'd y'all get out of there anyway?"

"New guy-he got us out." Glenn explains.

Shane's eyebrow raises like it's a challenge. "New guy?"

"Yeah, crazy Vato just got into town." Morales then turns his head to the van and yells, "Hey, Helicopter Boy! Come say hello." As a man in a police uniform gets out of the truck, Morales addresses Shane, "Guy's a cop, like you."

Shane shifts his weight before noticing the man and freezes. The man looks stunned with his hands on his hips. My confusion is quickly cleared when Carl sprints past me, yelling "Dad!"

The man, Carl's dad, kneels down in front of Amy and Andrea as his arms wrap around his son. I smile softly at the reunion as he picks up Carl, kissing his head as he walks over to Lori and the family embrace. Everyone else is smiling as well, some crying along with the family. Even Shane though there's something mixed in there. This ain't gonna be good.

~~~~~~~

The air got colder after dark, the fire only does so much. I sit with the group around the campfire, something I do often when Daryl hunts. Hell, even when he's at camp sometimes I drag him over. Tonight is no different, I sit between Amy and Shane.

"Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented. Fear, confusion... all those things but... Disoriented comes closest." Rick says, his arm around Carl in front of him while Lori is curled up at his side as thunder rumbles above our heads.

Dale sets his mug down on the ground, "Words can be meager things. Sometimes they fall short."

I scoff out a small laugh, "Okay, Aristotle."

Dale just gives me a smile while Rick chuckles softly. Rick then sighs and continues, "I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else. For a while I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from ever."

"Mom said you died." Carl looked up at his dad.

Lori pets his hair as Rick replies, "She had every reason to believe that. Don't you ever doubt it."

Shane and Lori share a look before she tells Rick, "When things started to get really bad, they told me at the hospital that they were gonna medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta, and it never happened."

"Well, I'm not surprised after Atlanta fell." Rick says, Lori just nodding and mumbling an affirmative. "And from the look of that hospital, it got overrun."

Shane speaks up from next to me. "Yeah, looks don't deceive. I barely got them out, you know?"

Oh my God I can feel the guilt from Lori and Shane crushing the atmosphere.

Rick looks his best friend in the eyes and says, "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane. I can't begin to express it."

"There go those words falling short again. Paltry things." Dale chuckles.

Thankfully, the awkwardness and tension is cut short by that jackass Ed throwing another log into the fire that's keeping himself warm. His wife and daughter too, of course, but it isn't like he cares about them.

"Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?" Shane calls to the abusive man.

"It's cold, man." Ed replies.

I pinch the bridge of my nose in annoyance as Shane's voice grows more irritated, "The cold don't change the rules, does it? Keep our fires low, just embers so we can't be seen from a distance, right?"

Ed glances at Shane over his shoulder, "I said it's cold. Why don't you mind your own business for once."

Oh here we go. Shane stands up and makes his way over to Ed, Carol and Sophia. Soft words are exchanged between Shane and Ed before Carol stands up and pulls the log out from the fire. Shane then converses with Carol for a minute before coming back over to us and sitting back down.

Dale speaks up as soon as Shane's ass hits the dirt, "Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind." Dale then looks at me, "You're his wife, maybe you should tell him."

"Yeah, like that'll make it any better." I scoff. "He'll still be absolutely pissed, and not at me 'cause he knows I didn't go."

"I'll tell him. I dropped the key. It's on me." T-Dog interjects.

Rick shakes his head. "I cuffed him. That makes it mine."

"Guys, it's not a competition. I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy." Glenn argues, looking at T-Dog.

"I might have to agree with Glenn on that one." I insert.

"I did what I did. Hell if I'm gonna hide from him."

" We could lie." Amy says from Andrea's shoulder.

Her sister sighs, "Or tell the truth. Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd have gotten us killed." Andrea's gaze shifts to Lori. "Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's."

"I also agree with Andrea. Merle is a liability." I doodle in the dirt with a stick as I speak, "I may be married to his brother, and Merle may be my brother-in-law, but that doesn't mean I like him. He's a racist, sexist drug dealer. He just never had the balls to say anything rude to me without Daryl pitching a fit. If Andrea says Merle would've gotten you all killed, I wholeheartedly believe her."

"And that's what we tell Daryl? I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you? Word to the wise... We're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt." Dale says.

"You will. We all will. This isn't exactly a situation where I can just flash my boobs and calm him down." I huff out a laugh.

That earned a few chuckles before T-Dog speaks up again, " I was scared and I ran. I'm not ashamed of it."

"We were all scared." Andrea replies. "We all ran. What's your point?"

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that... Not that chain, not that padlock. My point... Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us." T-Dog says finally, standing up and going to his tent.

Well, that's promising.

~~~~~~~

The next morning is nothing new, getting into this routine of doing laundry, cleaning up the tent, and dodging the kids so they don't run me over. I sort through the pile of clothes I just washed yesterday, now dry. I put my clothes back where they belong and then put Daryl's back. My eye catches the familiar greenish packaging of my (pads/tampons/period products), damn the inability to track the days let alone my cycle. Just have to wait for the inevitable jumpscare.

I can hear Rick and Carol talking outside, something about Carol washing his clothes. I walk out of the tent, putting my boots back on and turn my head to see Dale, Morales, and Jim taking apart Glenn's Charger. Damn shame. Poor Glenn.

Said man stands next to Rick, presumably complaining about it to anyone willing to listen. After a few more moments, Rick walks over to his wife and Shane's Jeep drives up, "Water's here, y'all. Just a reminder to boil before use." The new normal. What isn't normal is the screaming from the kids as I finish lacing up my boots.

"Mom!" I hear Carl yell. That's all it took for most of the men, Andrea, Lori, Amy and myself to take off in that direction.

"Mama! Mommy!" Sophia screams.

The kids meet us at the line of cans that surround the camp. Carl runs into Lori's arms as Jacqui puts herself between the outer perimeter and Sophia. I follow Shane, Rick, Glenn and a few others over to where a walker was chowing down on a dead deer. I pull my knife out of it's little sheath on my hip. Three arrows are sticking out of the thigh of the doe. Immediately I can tell those are Daryl's arrows.

Oh, he is gonna be pissed.

Andrea gasps as her and Amy watch from a few feet behind us. The kids are behind them with Lori, Carol, and Jacqui. Myself and the men surround the back of the walker before it turns around, snarling at us as it stands up.

Rick takes the first swing as it with a piece of a pole. Then Shane with the butt of his gun. Then Morales with a bat. Jim, Dale, they all just start beating the thing. Finally, Dale swings his axe down on it's neck, severing it's head.

Dale looks at the corpse, shocked, "It's the first one we've had up here. They never come this far up the mountain."

Jim pants softly, "Well, they're running out of food in the city, that's what."

"Great, so they're migrating?" I ask rhetorically.

Branches snapping and footsteps can be heard behind Jim, the men all readying their weapons again.

My husband pops out from behind a boulder, freezing when he sees Shane's shotgun pointed in his direction.

"Oh, Jesus." Shane mumbles as Daryl's eyes land on me, silently scanning me. He's checking for injury, like always.

Once he was satisfied with his findings, he glances at the deer and the dead walker. "Son of a bitch. That's mah deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this... filthy," He kicks the corpse. "Disease-bearin'," another kick. "Motherless poxy bastard!"

"Calm down, son. That's not helping." Dale sighs, looking down at the corpse.

Daryl marches over to Dale, "What do ya know 'bout it, old man? Why don't ya take that stupid hat 'n' go back to On Golden Pond?"

"Daryl." I chastise sternly, crossing my arms over my chest.

His eyes glance up at me, jaw clenching as he turns around and pulls the arrows out of the deer's body. "I've been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do ya think? Do ya think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?" He looks up at Shane, gesturing to the part the walker ate.

Shane props his shotgun on his shoulders, " I would not risk that."

My husband sighs, walking over to my side. "That's a damn shame. I got some squirrel... 'bout a dozen or so. That'll have to do."

The head of the walker starts to move, snarling and snapping its teeth. "Oh God." Amy grimaces.

"C'mon people, what the hell?" Daryl grumbles, aiming his crossbow at the head and shooting it in the eye. He pries the arrow back out, looking at everyone else, "It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothin'?" I feel Daryl's hand on my back to lead me back to camp as he says, "C'mon, Peach."

As the camp gets into sight, Daryl starts to shout, "Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up."

I stop walking, making my husband look at me, "Daryl, baby, wait a sec."

Shane puts his shotgun in his Jeep as he walks up to us, "Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you."

The others stand by the RV as Daryl eyes Shane suspiciously. "About what?"

"About Merle. There was a… There was a problem in Atlanta." Shane says, his hands on his hips.

After a moment, Daryl looks at me, then back at Shane, "He dead?"

Shane shakes his head, "We're not sure."

"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl yells.

I sigh softly, knowing exactly how this was gonna go down. "Daryl, he was gonna get them all killed."

My husband looks at me again before Rick speaks up, "No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."

"Who're you?" Daryl snaps.

"Rick Grimes."

"Rick Grimes. You got somethin' ya wanna tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all." Rick replies flatly. "So I handcuffed him on a roof. Hooked him to a piece a metal. He's still there."

Lori gently puts her hands on my shoulders, pulling me back with her to the RV and out of the way as my husband starts to pace. "Hold on. Lemme process this. You're saying ya handcuffed mah brother to a roof and ya left him there?!"

"Yeah." Rick mumbles guiltily.

Daryl eyes him for a few seconds before throwing the rope of squirrels at Rick, who ducks. Shane body slams Daryl making me gasp. "Daryl stop!" I yell. T-Dog drops the pile of logs he has to he can help. My husband pulls out his knife, both Shane and Rick on the defensive.

"Watch the knife!" T-Dog warns.

Lori keeps her hands on my shoulders, mumbling that Shane and Rick weren't gonna hurt him. Daryl takes a couple swings at Rick with the blade before him and Shane manage to subdue and disarm Daryl, Shane putting him in a chokehold.

"Shane don't hurt him!" I shout.

Shane only responds with a strained, "trying not to." as Daryl struggles in his grip.

"You'd best let me go!" Daryl screams.

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't." Shane keeps his hold strong on Daryl as the redneck squirms.

"Choke hold's illegal." The hunter argues.

"You can file a complaint. C'mon, man. We'll keep this up all day."

Rick kneels down in front of Daryl, "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that? Do you think we can manage that?" Once Shane lets him go, I go down and kneel next to him, concerned. "What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others."

"He's right, baby. You know that." I mumble, my hand gently squeezing his shoulder.

"It's not Rick's fault." T-Dog says from a few feet away. "I had the key. I dropped it."

"Ya couldn't pick it up?" Daryl sasses.

"Well, I dropped it in a drain."

Daryl huffs angrily, shrugging my hand off of him and standing up, "If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't." He walks over to T-Dog.

"Well, maybe this will. Look, I chained the door to the roof… So the geeks couldn't get at him… With a padlock." T-Dog explains.

"That's gotta count for somethin'." I interject as I stand up, dusting dirt off my knees.

Daryl wipes his face with the back of his hand, trying not to let his emotions show but his voice cracks. "Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is so that I can go get 'im."

"He'll show you. Ain't that right?" Lori says, leaning against the doorway to the RV.

"I'm going back." Rick confirms, putting his hands on his hips as his wife goes into the RV, pissed off like she didn't just say he'd go.

Daryl turns and picks up his rope of squirrels, taking them to our tent. I follow after him, quoting his words, "'Hell with all y'all.' I know you ain't talking about me, Daryl Dixon."

He stops just outside the tent, looking at me then at the ground with a soft sigh, "'Course not, Peach."

I gently take the squirrel rope from him, setting it down in the dirt. His hands find my waist, his touch gentle despite the calloused palms and fingers. My hands run up his arms and lacing my fingers behind his neck. "I'm glad you made it back, even without a deer."

A small huff of a chuckle leaves him, his head dipping down again so his forehead rests on my shoulder, "Missed ya."

I turn my head, gently kissing his temple before using his chest as a pillow, "I missed you too." I play with the hair on the back of his head before softly asking, "You really about to go try and find Merle? You just got back."

He nods against my shoulder. "He's m'brother."

"I know. Just be careful, alright?"

"Always, Peach."

~~~~~~~

About a half hour later, I sit at the campfire cleaning and skinning the squirrels Daryl brought. I'm not as good as he is at it, but I said I'd do it while he's gone. I make the cut by the squirrel's tail as Daryl walks behind me, occasionally peeking at my handiwork. Rick and Shane walk nearby, arguing, "Well, look, I… I don't, okay, Rick? So could you just… Could you throw me a bone here, man? Could you just tell me why? Why would you risk your life for a douche bag like Merle Dixon?"

"Hey, choose your words more carefully." Daryl snaps.

Shane glances at us. "No, I did. Douche bag's what I meant."

I laugh softly, making Daryl gently nudge my back, "Ay, get to skinnin', sunshine." I stick my tongue out at him before breaking the squirrel's tailbone.

Shane glances from Daryl and I to Rick, "Merle Dixon…The guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst." Very true.

"What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me. I can't let a man die of thirst… me. Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being." Rick states as Daryl sits down next to me, ripping the skin off the squirrel I prepped.

"So, you and Daryl? That's your big plan?" Lori asks incredulously, sitting on the other side of Daryl and purposely ignoring the meat preparation.

Without a word, Rick turns expectantly to Glenn with his hands on his hips. Glenn groans in frustration, "Oh, come on."

Rick shifts his weight to his other leg, "You know the way. You've been there before… In and out, no problem. You said so yourself. It's not fair of me to ask… I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you along. I know she would too." He gestures to Lori, then myself. "I'm sure (Y/N) would as well." Also very true.

"That's just great. Now you're gonna risk three men, huh?" Shane sasses.

"Four." T-Dog speaks up.

Daryl huffs next to me as he runs a rag over his arrow, "Mah day jus' gets better 'n' better, don't it?"

I elbow him in the rib, making him grunt and glare at me. "Shut up, you want me going with y'all instead?" I hold another prepped squirrel out to him. My husband just grumbles and gives a barely noticeable pout, taking the squirrel from me.

"You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass besides your wife?" T-Dog argues.

Daryl doesn't even look up at him, "Why you?"

"You wouldn't even begin to understand." T-Dog shakes his head. "You don't speak my language."

"That's four." Dale states from behind Rick.

"It's not just four. You're putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. C'mon, you saw that walker. It was here. It was in camp. They're movin' out of the cities. They come back, we need every able body we've got. We need 'em here. We need 'em to protect camp." Shane insists.

Rick takes a second before answering, "It sounds like what you really need here is more guns."

Realization dawns on Glenn's face, "Right, the guns."

"What guns?" I speak up, handing another squirrel to Daryl.

"Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns." Rick's gaze shifts to Shane. "I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when I got swarmed. It's just sitting there on the street, waitin' to be picked up."

"Ammo?" Shane asks.

Rick nods, "Seven hundred rounds. Assorted." Well, damn okay.

"You went through hell to find us. You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?" Lori asks Rick.

Carl speaks up from his spot next to his mother, "Dad, I don't want you to go."

"I don't want you to go either." I mumble to Daryl. He just silently puts his hand on the back of my neck, giving it a gentle squeeze.

After a moment, Lori continues her argument, "To hell with the guns. Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He's not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in." She stands up, arms crossing over her chest. "Tell me. Make me understand."

I sigh and stand up as well, going back over to the tent, tired of the arguing that's going no where. Obviously, they're gonna go, no matter who says what. I can hear Daryl's boots before I turn and look at him. "I know ya don't wan' me goin'. Rick ain't the only one that just got back."

"No shit, Sherlock." I grumble.

Daryl grunts and gently pushes my shoulder to have me sit down. He sits behind me, putting his legs on either side of me. He starts to section out my hair. I know what he's doing. Especially when he reaches for my arm and takes the hair tie from my wrist, mumbling a "Go on."

We've both learned in the time we've had together that I like having my hair played with and that he likes to play with it. So he usually plays with it while I rant or bitch to him, even learning how to braid for the occasion. Nothing complex, just a simple braid, sloppy but it holds decently enough. He'd also never admit it but he keeps another hair tie somewhere on his person in case mine snaps.

He starts to braid my hair as I gently argue, "What if something happens? They barely got out last time."

"Ain't nothin' gon' happen." He grumbles, talking around the hair tie between his teeth.

I stay still so he doesn't mess it up, "You don't know that. And you just got back. I haven't even been able to sleep next to you yet. He's your brother, I get that, but I'm your wife."

"I know you're m'wife. I remember. But I ain't jus' gon' leave Merle there." Daryl's words aren't slurred as much now, he must be tying the braid.

I can tell I was right when his hands find my shoulders instead, his thumbs digging into the muscles of my upper back. I wince slightly before countering, "I don't want you to leave him there either but what if you don't come back?"

"'Ay." He gently turns my face towards him, "ain't nothin' gon' stop me from comin' back to my wife. I can promise ya that." My shoulders slump in defeat as I huff. A ghost of a smile graces his lips as he leans down and pecks me on the lips. "I love ya."

"I love you too...dick."

~~~~~~~

After a slightly emotional goodbye on my part and whispered reassurances from my husband, they're gone again. I decided to distract myself by joining most of the other women to help with laundry. The five of us : Carol, Jacqui, Amy, Andrea, and myself scrub dirt off the different items of clothing as Carl laughs nearby, Shane splashing in the water trying to catch frogs.

"All right, they're comin' your way. They're comin' your way. Go on, get 'em, get 'em. They're comin' your way, come on. Catch them frogs. Catch them frogs. They're comin', little man! Get 'em! Get that net in there and get 'em!"

"I'm beginning to question the division of labor here." Jacqui says.

Shane's still yelling, which is making Carl smile like a kid on Christmas, "They're comin', little man! Get 'em! Get that net in there and get 'em! What have you got, bad boy? What do you got? What do you got?"

I smile softly, Carl's happiness is contagious. Jacqui glances at them again and wrings out a shirt, "Can someone explain to me how the women wound up doin' all the Hattie McDaniel work?"

Amy laughed softly, "The world ended, didn't you get the memo?"

Carol turns her head, glancing at her husband who's sitting on his ass, smoking a cigarette from their car. "It's just the way it is."

"Can definitely say I miss the days when this was Daryl's job." I huff as I scrub a pair of jeans on the washboard. "He was a house husband when someone in the neighborhood didn't need a repair. Though we had a washing machine."

"I do miss my Maytag." Carol agrees.

Andrea nods, adjusting a shirt on her thigh to scrub, "I miss my Benz. My sat nav."

Jacqui wrings out another item of clothing, "I miss my coffeemaker with that dual-drip filter and built-in grinder, honey."

"What I wouldn't give for a Frappuccino right now." I chuckle.

Amy looks off longingly, "My computer...and texting."

Andrea pauses, smirking a little, "I miss my vibrator."

I choke on my own spit and Jacqui looks at her knowingly, "Oh!"

We all laugh as Amy exclaims, "Oh my God!"

Carol peeks over her shoulder to make sure Ed doesn't hear before looking at Andrea, "Me too." And the five of us start laughing again, making Ed walk over, taking puffs off his cancer stick. Carol immediately gets quiet and scrubs the clothes on the washboard. "What's so funny?"

"Just swapping war stories, Ed." Andrea answers nonchalantly. I can feel the man's eyes staring into our backs as we continue to work in silence, the moment gone. "Problem, Ed?" Andrea asks after a few more moments of tense quiet.

"Nothin' that concerns you." The abusive man ashes his cigarette in Carol's direction. "You ought to focus on your work. This ain't no comedy club."

"The work's still gettin' done, Ed. Better than sitting in silence the whole time." I interject.

"I didn't fuckin' ask you, did I, Dixon?" Ed sneers.

Carol gives me a look and I roll my eyes, but don't argue further. He continues to watch us as we scrub the laundry. Ed puts out his cigarette before taking out another one and lighting it. It isn't long before Andrea decides to antagonize Ed again, "Ed, tell you what… you don't like how your laundry is done, you are welcome to pitch in and do it yourself. Here." She tosses a shirt at him.

He throws it right back with a wet slap against her chest and neck, making her let out a surprised yelp. "Ain't my job, missy."

The rest of us stand up to back Andrea up, except Carol, who stands but tells Andrea to stop. I put myself between Ed and Andrea, "What is your job, Ed? Sittin' on your ass smokin' cigarettes."

He ashes the cigarette in my direction, "Well, it sure as hell ain't listenin' to the wife of some trailer trash redneck. Tell you what." He then motions for Carol to come with him. "Come on. Let's go."

"I don't think she needs to go anywhere with you, Ed." I side step so Carol is behind me now.

"And I say it's none of your business. Come on now, you heard me." Ed tells Carol.

I look at the woman over my shoulder, "Carol, don't."

"(Y/N) please." She begs. "It doesn't matter."

" Don't think I won't knock you on your ass just 'cause you're some college educated cooze, alright?" Ed threatens me, then motions to Carol again. "Now you come on now or you gonna regret it later."

Jacqui has her hands on her hips, "So she can show up with fresh bruises later, Ed? Yeah, we've seen 'em."

Ed just chuckles, "Stay outta this. Stay out of this. Now come on!"

I scoff at him, "The lion, the witch and the audacity of this bitch."

Ed glares at me, "You know what? This ain't none of y'all's business. You don't want to keep prodding the bull here, okay? Now I am done talking. Come on." He grabs Carol's arm and starts to drag her away. Lots of yelling ensues, making Ed scream at all of us, "You don't tell me what! I tell you what!"

He swings, slapping Carol in the face. Amy pulls her away as we all push Ed and put ourselves between him and his wife. My fist clenches before it connects with Ed's jaw, hard enough that it whips his head to the side. There isn't much time before I feel pain on the right side of my face and my palms hit the sand.

"Get off me!" I hear Ed yell, Jacqui helping me up as Shane drags Ed away. Shane pins him to the ground and starts beating his face in while Andrea and Amy console Carol, Jacqui's thumb running over my split lip and bruised cheekbone. Ed's face is a bloody pulp by the time Andrea yells at Shane to stop.

Shane grabs Ed's jaw, making him look at him as best as he could through the blood and swelling. "You put your hands on your wife, your little girl, Daryl's wife, or anybody else in this camp one more time, I will not stop next time. Do you hear me? Do you hear me?!"

"Yes." Ed sputters, blood dripping from his mouth.

"I'll beat you to death Ed." Shane punches him one more time and kicks him in the stomach before walking away.

"Oh God! No. God." Carol sobs, breaking out of Amy's hold and kneeling next to her barely conscious husband. "Ed, I'm sorry. Oh my God. Ed, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Ed. Ed, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Ed."

The other women and I watch, not knowing what to do as Shane makes his way back to camp.

~~~~~~~

3rd Person POV:

Rick and Daryl stand out of the way of the door as T-Dog uses the bolt cutters to cut the chain. The four of them rush out on the roof, Daryl yelling, "Merle! Merle!" Seeing something on the ground, Daryl let's out a sob, his voice breaking at he yells, "No! No!"

Glenn, Rick, and T-Dog watch helplessly as the younger Dixon brother paces, yelling broken protests and disagreements. Where Merle sat was a bloody hacksaw. Handcuffs that were also covered in blood are still hooked up to the same pipe. And next to the handcuffs and saw on the ground is Merle's severed hand, pale and lifeless.

Karma's a bitch.

(A/N): Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to give me feedback or suggestions in the comments. Also, follow my Tumblr (scary-noodlesblog) for polls on how y'all want the story to progress in the future!

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scary-noodlesblog · 21 days ago

Text

Soulbound Ch 17

The End

Soulbound Masterlist

(A/N): no this isnt the last chapter, just the name of the episode lol

Dean paces around the motel room as he talks to Castiel on speakerphone. I sit on the bed nearby, listening to my brother and unofficial angelic boyfriend talk about the Colt. "We're talking about the Colt, right? I mean, as in the Colt?" Dean asks as he slides the curtains shut.

"We are." Castiel confirms through the phone.

"Well, that doesn't make any sense. I mean, why would the demons keep a gun around that, uh, kills demons?"

I laugh a little when we hear Castiel shouting, "What? What? Did—I didn't—I didn't get that." As a loud vehicle passes him.

Dean chuckles as he closes the fridge, "You know, it's kind of funny. Talking to a messenger of God on a cellphone. It's, you know, like watching a Hell's Angel ride a moped."

"This isn't funny, Dean. The voice says I'm almost out of minutes." Castiel says, making me laugh a little more.

"Okay, all right. I'm—I'm telling you, Cas, the mooks have melted down the gun by now." Dean insists, plopping down on the other bed.

"Well, I hear differently. And if it's true and if you are still set on the insane task of killing the devil, this is how we do it." I can almost hear Castiel rolling his eyes.

"Okay. Where do we start?" Dean asks.

"Where are you now?"

"Kansas City." I speak up.

Dean leans across the bed, picking up the key from the nightstand, "Century Hotel, room 113."

"I'll be there immediately."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. No, no, come on, man." Dean grumbles. "I just drove like sixteen hours straight, okay? I'm human. (Y/N)'s human. And there's stuff we got to do."

"What stuff?" Castiel asks, confused.

"Eat, for example. In this case, sleep. Just need like four hours once in a while, okay?"

"Yes." The angel confirms.

"Okay, so, you can pop in tomorrow morning." Dean negotiates.

"Yes. I'll just—" Castiel's voice cuts out as Dean hangs up on him.

I scoff out a chuckle, "Well, that was rude."

"He's your boyfriend, not mine."

~~~~~~~

Dean's phone vibrating on the nightstand stirs me awake. I don't open my eyes but I can hear Dean sigh as he picks up the phone, "Damn it, Cas, I need to sleep!" There's a moment of silence before he says, "Sam? It's quarter past four."

I prop myself on my elbows, "Sam?"

After hearing Sam's response, Dean gets out of bed, flicking on the lamp. I grimace a little, blinking as my eyes adjust and Dean goes over to the fridge. He gets two beers out, handing one to me as he puts the phone on speaker again so I can also hear Sam.

"Lucifer came to me," Sam starts, "He says that I am his vessel."

"And Dean is Michael's, right?" I ask as I open my beer, "That's some Cain and Abel type shit."

"So, you're his vessel, huh? Lucifer's wearing you to the prom?" Dean chuckles, neither of us sounding too concerned at this point.

"That's what he said." Sam confirms through the speaker.

"Just when you thought you were out, they pull you back in, huh, Sammy?" Dean jokes as he sips his beer.

"So, that's it? That's your response?" Sam asks incredulously.

"What are you looking for?" I laugh softly, also taking a swig of my beer.

"I don't know. A—a little panic? Maybe?" Sam stutters.

"I guess we're a little numb to the earth-shattering revelations at this point." Dean hums. Yeah, several apocalypse threats, finding out you're vessels to archangels and being bound to a seraph will do that.

"What are we gonna do about it?" Sam questions.

Dean counters him, "What do you want to do about it?"

"I want back in, for starters." Sam says, making hope crawl up my spine. Hope that we can go back to normal, hope that I can hunt with both of my brothers again.

"Sam—"

The younger Winchester interrupts him, "I mean it. I am sick of being a puppet to these sons of bitches. I'm gonna hunt him down, Dean."

"Oh, so, we're back to revenge, then, are we? Yeah, 'cause that worked out so well last time." Dean grumbles sarcastically.

"Not revenge. Redemption."

"So, what, you're just gonna walk back in and we're gonna be the dynamic trio again?" The sarcastic tone in the older Winchester's voice doesn't go away, even as I send a glare his way.

"Look, Dean, I can do this. I can. I'm gonna prove it to you." Sam argues.

"Look, Sam—it doesn't matter—whatever we do. I mean, it turns out that you and me, we're the, uh, the fire and the oil of the Armageddon. You know, on that basis alone, we should just pick a hemisphere. Stay away from each other for good."

"Dean, don't do this." I plead.

"Dean, it does not have to be like this. We can fight it. All of us." Sam begs, his voice getting desperate.

"Yeah, you're right. We can. But not together. We're not stronger when we're together, Sam. I think we're weaker. Because whatever we have between us—love, family, whatever it is—they are always gonna use it against us. And you know that. Yeah, we're better off apart. We got a better chance of dodging Lucifer and Michael and this whole damn thing, if we just go our own ways."

"Dean, don't do this." Sam repeats what I said earlier.

"Bye, Sam." Dean sighs before hanging up the phone.

I look at Dean like he just grew a second head. Before I know it, my hand slams my beer down on the nightstand, some of the alcohol sloshing out of the bottle. I stand up from the bed, my voice raising, "Are you fucking kidding me, Dean?"

His eyebrows furrow as he looks up at me, "What? Family is becoming our weakness. They're pitting Sam and I against each other."

"So keep that at the back of your mind when you continuously rub his mistakes in his face!" I retort, my fists clenching a little.

Dean strides over to me, fury in his green eyes. "Stay out of it! You don't know what its like. Instead, you get the guarantee of a cosmic shield to keep you from getting killed as long as he's alive!"

"I may not be a vessel, but I'm watching my brothers fight and destroy each other." I argue. "Dean, he's our brother!"

The older Winchester shakes his head, "No. He's my brother. You're just some girl who Bobby took in. Dad was right, you're not a Winchester."

Even though I can see the regret on his face the second the words leave his mouth, it doesn't hurt any less. Him full-swing punching me would've hurt less. "No." I mumble, the hurt evident as my voice breaks. "I'm a Singer. Which means I'm not a fucking coward."

Dean doesn't reply, only glaring daggers at me before grabbing his coat and walking out of the room. I sit back down on the bed, laying down and curling up, numb except for the few stray tears that fall.

'You're not a Winchester.'

~~~~~~~

I heard Dean come back a couple hours later, the door opening woke me up but I recognized the footsteps. I heard him shuffle and get on his bed, presumably drunk and going to sleep. Later, the light pouring in from the window wake me up again, but I keep my eyes closed. I can hear the springs on Dean's bed creak as he gets up, the squeaking a little louder than before. The material of the bedsheets I'm on feels different.

I open my eyes, seeing that the sheets are actually gone, I was feeling the bare mattress, stained and grimy. Ew. Dean is over by the window, the mattress from his bed completely gone. That explains why the springs sounded louder, no longer muffled by the mattress. The room looks decimated, the walls seemingly charred and the wallpaper peeling more than it was when I fell asleep.

Despite my lingering anger towards Dean, I walk over next to him to look out the window, saying nothing. Outside also looked apocalyptic, cars strewn about, some even flipped. It was deserted outside, like Dean and I were the last ones on Earth.

I follow Dean out of the motel room, both of us scanning the area outside. Everything is either broke, graffitied or both. We walk down the street silently, looking around at the devastation for any signs of life besides us. Glass shattering nearby draws our attention. Dean follows me down an alley, turning a corner to find a little girl sitting on the asphalt next to a teddy bear and some glass shards. Her gray dress was dirty as was the bear, her brown hair matted and oily.

"Little girl? Little girl?" Dean calls softly as he slowly approaches the girl, hands up to show no harm. This seems familiar to me for some reason.

The girl doesn't reply so I ask, "Are you hurt?"

"You know the not-talking thing is kind of creepy, right?" Dean says with a chuckle.

I slowly walk up to the girl as blood drips from her mouth. She shrieks and swings a shard of glass like a knife at me, slicing shallowly into my side. I grunt as Dean lunges, knocking the little girl out. I wince and inspect the wound as Dean mumbles, "Oh, crap."

My eyes follow his gaze, seeing in big, red graffiti 'CROATOAN'. "Not this again." I grumble. Not even two seconds later, a group of people round the corner and in front of the graffiti. Dean pushes me in the opposite direction, both of us running away as the group of presumably infected people follow after us.

We come across a chain-link fence, blocking our path as the infected close in on us. Dean pushes me behind him until we both flinch at gunshots and we both duck, crouching to the ground. Loud music, 'Do You Love Me' by The Contours, plays over speakers connected to tanks and military vehicles. I reach back, grabbing the sleeve of Dean's coat and drag him to an alley nearby. Both of us brace ourselves against the wall, waiting it out.

~~~~~~~

Under the cover of nightfall, Dean holds open a broken part of the chain-link fence for me. He looks at a sign on the fence that reads:

"CROATOAN VIRUS HOT ZONE NO ENTRY BY ORDER OF ACTING REGIONAL COMMAND AUGUST 1, 2014 KANSAS CITY"

"'August 1st, 2014.'" Dean reads from the sign.

"A whole five years in the future." I mumble in return, nudging Dean with my elbow and nodding my head at a conveniently placed and flued car.

After hotwiring it, Dean gets in the driver's seat and I get in the passenger seat. The drive is quiet, no cell phone service shown by Dean holding up his phone like an old man who doesn't know how to work the alien device. The radio has only been static for God knows how long. "That's never a good sign." Dean grumbles.

A voice pops in from the backseat, startling us both. "'Croatoan pandemic reaches Australia.'"

I turn to see Zachariah in the backseat holding a newspaper. He's reading from it. "I thought I smelled your stink on this Back to the Future crap." I snap at the angel.

Zachariah ignores me and continues to read, "'President Palin defends bombing of Houston.'" Certainly a buyer's market in real estate. Let's see what's happening in sports. That's right—no more sports. Congress revoked the right to group assembly. What's left of Congress, that is. Hardly a quorum, if you ask me."

"How did you find us?" Dean asks gruffly.

"Afraid we had to tap some unorthodox resources of late—human informants. We've been making inspirational visits to the fringier Christian groups. They've been given your image, told to keep an eye out." The dickhead of an angel replies.

"The Bible freak outside the motel—he, what, dropped a dime on me?" Dean replies incredulously, referring to a man who was handing out mini Bibles outside the motel before Castiel called.

"Onward, Christian soldiers." Zachariah grins.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Okay, well, good, great. You have had your jollies. Now send me back, you son of a bitch."

"Oh, you'll get back—all in good time. We want you to marinate a bit."

"Marinate?" I echo. "We aren't some ribeye about to be on a barbecue."

Zachariah sighs and shakes his head, going back to flipping through the newspaper. "Three days, guys. Three days to see where this course of action takes you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean questions.

"It means that your choices have consequences. This is what happens to the world if you continue to say 'no' to Michael. Have a little look-see." Zachariah says before vanishing into thin air.

Wait, if this is for Dean, then why am I here?

~~~~~~~

Dean opens the door to Bobby's house and I follow him inside. "Bobby? Bobby, I'm coming in!" The whole house is messy, worse than usual, covered in cobwebs and dust. Bobby usually at least dusts, mindful that I have allergies like a good dad. He hasn't been here in a while.

I sneeze as we move further into the house. "Oh, no." Dean mumbles as he sees Bobby's wheelchair lying on its side in the kitchen.

I gasp as Dean flips it upright, three bullet holes and dried blood on the back of the seat. My hand covers my mouth as I tear up a little. Dean's expression is somber as he crouches next to the chair. "Where is everybody, Bobby?"

Dean leads me away from the wheelchair and over to the makeshift library, pulling out a patterned stone in the wall. It gives way relatively easy, revealing Bobby's journal. He had shown the boys and I that hiding spot years ago, even before Sam went off to college. Dean pulls out the journal, opening it to a photograph with Bobby in it, holding his rifle and sitting in his wheelchair. Next to him is Castiel, also armed with a gun, and in...normal clothes? With them are three men I don't know.

The five men are in front of a sign.

Dean's eyebrows furrow, "Camp Chitaqua."

~~~~~~~

I follow Dean as we approach Camp Chitaqua, seeing the same sign that was in the photograph. Armed men patrol the gate, but of course, we stay out of sight. As two men walk by, Dean notices the Impala, smashed and rusted to hell.

"Oh, baby, no." He mumbles before climbing over the fence when the men were out of view.

"Dean, what the fuck are you doing?" I whisper-shout at him.

He doesn't listen, prompting me to climb the fence after him. He approaches the car, peering inside the driver's side. "Oh, no, baby, what did they do to you?"

I could see a figure coming towards us, "Dean." I whisper, though he ignores me again.

Before I could send a second warning, the figure's fist hits my jaw hard, knocking me out cold almost instantly.

~~~~~~~

Metal clanking against metal is what wakes me up. Metal and the sound of Dean talking. Does he ever shut up? God, my head is pounding.

"What the hell?" Dean asks as I open my eyes. I look up to see Dean cleaning a rifle, then my eyes shift to my left...also seeing Dean? At least this is the Dean that is wearing the same clothes, so this must be my Dean. I continue to look to my left, seeing mine and my Dean's wrists handcuffed to a ladder. What kinda kinky shit...?

"I should be asking that question, don't you think?" The other Dean grumbles, pointing the rifle at the two of us. "In fact, why don't you give me one good reason why I shouldn't gank you right here and now?"

"Because you'd only be hurting yourself." I joke anxiously.

"Very funny." The other Dean rolls his eyes.

My Dean chuckles nervously, "Look, man—I'm no shapeshifter or demon or anything, okay?"

"Yeah, I know. I did the drill while you were out. Silver, salt, holy water—nothing." The other Dean counts off on his fingers. "But you know what was funny? Was that you had every hidden lockpick, box cutter, and switchblade that I carry. Now, you want to explain that? Oh, and the, uh, resemblance, while you're at it? Also, how she isn't dead?" He gestures to me.

"Wait, I'm dead?" My eyebrows furrow in confusion.

When Future Dean doesn't answer, Present Dean speaks up. "Zachariah."

Future Dean slowly stands up from his chair, "Come again?"

My Dean gives a tight smile, "I'm you from the tail end of 2009. Zach plucked us from our beds and threw us five years into the future."

Future Dean starts to approach us slowly, "Where is he? I want to talk to him."

Present Dean's eyebrows furrow, "I don't know."

Future Dean looks at him like he doesn't believe him, "Oh, you don't know."

"No, I don't know. Look, we just want to get back to our own friggin' year, okay?"

Future Dean rubs his face with his hand before crouching down in front of us. "Okay. If you're me, then tell me something only I would know."

Present Dean thinks for a second before smirking. Oh no. "Rhonda Hurley. We were, uh, nineteen. She made us try on her panties. They were pink. And satiny. And you know what? We kind of liked it."

Future Dean nods, "Touché."

Present Dean smirks wider as I look at them with disgust, "Ew gross! I need some fucking bleach."

Future Dean then looks at me. I can see his gaze softening with a look of longing, mourning. "What about you?"

"Proof that it's me?" I raise an eyebrow before he nods. "Uh, what about the time you texted me for help because you went home with a cop and both of you were handcuffed to the bed and couldn't reach the key. And you didn't trust Sam 'cause he would make fun of you."

Present Dean scoffs, "You did make fun of me."

"How could I not? I should'a posted it on the internet." I roll my eyes.

"So, what, Zach zapped you up here to see how bad it gets?" Future Dean interrupts.

Present Dean shrugs, "I guess. Croatoan virus, right? That's their endgame?"

Future Dean cocks a gun before loading it and other guns into a duffel bag, "It's efficient, it's incurable, and it's scary as hell. Turns people into monsters. Started hitting the major cities about two years ago. World really went in the crapper after that."

"What about Sam?" I ask.

Future Dean goes still, but his face seems numb to emotion, "Heavyweight showdown in Detroit. From what I understand, Sam didn't make it."

Present Dean's eyebrows furrow, "You weren't with him?"

"No." Future Dean looks down at his feet, "No, me and Sam, we haven't talked in—hell, five years." Not since Dean hung up the phone last night.

"We never tried to find him?" Present Dean asks.

"We had other people to worry about." Future Dean picks up his rifle off the table.

"Where you going?" I ask, glancing at the rifle.

"I got to run an errand."

"Whoa. You're just gonna leave us here?" Present Dean questions.

Future Dean rolls his eyes, "Yes. I got a camp full of twitchy trauma survivors out there with an apocalypse hanging over their head. The last thing they need to see is a version of The Parent Trap and The Sixth Sense. So, yeah, you stay locked down."

"Okay. All right. Fine. But you don't have to cuff us, man." Present Dean pleads a little, smirking slightly, "Oh, come on. You don't trust yourself? Or our sister?"

Future Dean turns to look at us, "No. Absolutely not. And she's not my sister." Ouch. With that, Future Dean turns and walks out the door.

"Dick." I mumble as Dean starts digging his fingernail against the floorboard, trying to get a nail out of the wood.

~~~~~~~

After lots of swears, cringes and huffs, Dean finally manages to pull the nail out of the floor, making quick work of the handcuffs and setting us both free. The front door of Future Dean's cabin squeaks as Present Dean opens it, peeking his head out to see if the coast was clear.

As we step off the porch and look around, we hear a familiar voice behind us. "Hey, Dean. You got a second? Wait, I thought (Y/N) was dead?"

We turn around, seeing Chuck, who looks like he's seen a ghost as he looks at me. Dean clears his throat and speaks up, "No—yes. Uh, I—I guess. Hi, Chuck. D-Don't worry about her."

Chuck eyes me nervously before looking at Dean with an uneasy expression, "Hi. So, uh, listen, we're pretty good on canned goods for now, but we're down to next to nothing on perishables and—and hygiene supplies. People are not gonna be happy about this. So, what do you think we should do?"

Dean stutters, "I—I don't know. Maybe, uh, share? You know, like at a kibbutz."

The prophet's eyebrows furrow as he tilts his head, "Wait a minute. aren't you supposed to be out on a mission right now?"

Dean nods, "Absolutely. And I will be."

Chuck looks passed Dean and I and mumbles, "Uh-oh."

A woman comes up from behind Dean, swinging a punch at him right as we turn around. Thankfully, Dean dodges, "Whoa! Jeez! Easy, lady!" Dean yells as he hides behind Chuck and I.

"Risa." Chuck corrects nervously.

"Risa?" Dean and I question at the same time, my eyebrow raised.

"You spent the night in Jane's cabin last night, didn't you?" Risa interrogates angrily.

Dean chuckles anxiously, "Uh, what? I—I don't—did I?"

Chuck just nods as Risa puts up air quotes, "I thought we had a 'connection'."

With another wary chuckles, Dean smirks, shamelessly checking out the woman, "Well, I'm sure that we do."

"Yeah?" She asks incredulously before gesturing to me. "This another girl you're gonna swoon into bed? Huh?"

I cringe as Dean quickly sputters and corrects her, "N-No! Ew! That's my sister!"

"You told me your sister was dead!" She shouts before stomping passed Chuck and Dean.

Chuck waves meekly, "Hi, Risa."

"Screw you."

Dean turns his head to watch her go, "Oh, jeez. I'm getting busted for stuff I haven't even done yet."

"What?" Chuck asks, eyebrows crinkled.

Dean looks back at Chuck and I, "Uh, never mind. Hey, Chuck, is...Cas still here?"

A small smile appears on Chuck's face, "Yeah. I don't think Cas is going anywhere. Gonna tell him his wife is still alive?"

Wait...wife!?

~~~~~~~

3rd Person POV:

As Dean and (Y/N) walk up to another cabin, Dean turns to her, "Wait out here, I'll bring him out in a few."

Despite her want to argue, she doesn't she crosses her arms and leans against the banister of the porch steps. Dean steps inside, seeing Future Castiel sitting in a circle with four women. The former angel looks unkempt, hair slightly greasy and his clothes wrinkled and dirty.

Cas hasn't noticed Dean yet as he addresses the women, "So, in this way. We're each a fragment of total perception—just, uh, one compartment in that dragonfly eye of group mind. Now, the key to this total, shared perception—it's, um, it's surprisingly physical." Cas smiles when he spots Dean, "Oh. Excuse me, ladies. I think I need to confer with our fearless leader for a minute. Why not go get washed up for the orgy?" That made Dean do a double take, not sure if he heard that right. As the women get up and leave, he smiles up at them, "You're all so beautiful."

The former angel then stands up, his joints popping as he stretches and grunts. Outside, (Y/N) is glaring slightly at the women, while the ladies look at her with confusion, wondering why she looks so much like the woman in the photograph next to Castiel's bed.

Back in the cabin, Dean asks Cas, "What are you, a hippie?"

"I thought you'd gotten over trying to label me." Castiel sighs in mild annoyance.

Dean starts to walk towards him, "Cas, we got to talk."

"Whoa. Strange." Cas interrupts, eyes wide and looking Dean up and down.

"What?"

The former angel tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed. "You...are not you. Not now you, anyway."

"No! Yeah. Yes, exactly." Dean stammers.

"What year are you from?" Cas asks.

Dean's eyebrows crinkle, "2009."

"Who did this to you? Is it Zachariah?"

Dean nods, "Yes."

Castiel sighs in disbelief, "Interesting."

"Oh, yeah, it's friggin' fascinating. Now. Why don't you strap on your angel wings and fly me back to my page on the calendar?" Dean questions sarcastically.

A bitter chuckle leaves Castiel's lips as he tears up slightly, turning away from Dean, "I wish I could just, uh, strap on my wings, but I'm sorry, no dice."

"What, are you stoned?"

Castiel's eyes linger on the photo of (Y/N) next to the bed before turning back to Dean, "Uh, generally, yeah."

"What happened to you?" Dean asks incredulously.

The former angel shrugs, "Life."

Dean sighs softly, "I was told that (Y/N) died...I'm sorry, man. You mind me asking how?"

Castiel flinches at the name, like a demon hearing Christo. "After you and her fought, and the virus started, she went looking for Sam. I was with her at first, when we saw how quickly this virus was getting around I proposed because her life was short. Mine wasn't, at the time anyway." His voice starts to break as he continues, "Th-The day after the 'wedding'-" He says using air quotes. "-you called me for help with something. Lucifer k-killed her while I was gone. I felt it, as soon as her soul was gone." He sniffles as a couple stray tears fall.

A look of guilt crosses over Dean's face. It was his fault. She wouldn't have left to find Sam if he didn't argue with her. Cas would've been able to intervene, fly her away from Lucifer before he could kill her if Dean hadn't called Cas away. Or at least die trying to save her.

Castiel's face holds the same guilt, mixed with sorrow and despair. He feels like he shouldn't have left to help Dean. She'd still be alive if he didn't. Then he wouldn't be drowning his mourning with booze, weed and women. Now his grace was gone. Carved it out himself like Anna had did, feeling like he didn't deserve his grace, didn't deserve to be an angel if he couldn't do his job of protecting (Y/N).

Dean blinks away tears as he clears his throat, "Why don't we, uh, go get some air?"

The former angel simply nods, following the hunter outside onto the porch. Cas flinches again as he hears a familiar, sweet voice filling his ears, "Cassie?"

His head never snapped up so fast before. She looked the same as she did all those years ago, because she was her from all those years ago. He knew that. He knew she wasn't his (Y/N). This one belongs to his past self. The same smile, albeit a sad one right now, the same sparkle her eyes have shown when she looks at him. Her hair falling perfectly every time. She should've been the angel, not him, he thinks.

It doesn't even take a second before he's launched himself at her, an arm wrapping around her middle while a shaky hand grips the back of her head, fingers threaded in her hair. Her arms wrap around him, face buried in his chest. He smells of weed, booze and sweat, nothing like her Cas smells like. He smells like the Earth, the sea and the air all at once, and something uniquely Cas.

The former angel's nose buries in her hair on the top of her head as his bottom lip trembles, tears falling onto her scalp and his shoulders shaking with sobs. He hasn't cried this hard since he lost her. (Y/N) can feel herself tearing up as well, sympathetic for what he must be feeling. She couldn't imagine if she had lost him. A literal piece of Castiel was gone with her soul.

His voice trembles as he whispers, "You're just as beautiful as the day I lost you, Ol Allar."

"I'm so sorry, Cassie."

Castiel just holds her, until they both look up to the sound of vehicles. A truck and a Jeep to be precise. Future Dean along with three other men get out of the vehicles. Cas unwraps himself from (Y/N) reluctantly, but keeping a hand on the small of her back respectively. Present Dean watches curiously beside them as the men get beers out of the Jeep, opening and drinking them to celebrate a successful mission.

It's silent up until Future Dean raises a gun on one of the men when his back was turned.

Present Dean yells, "Hey. Hey! Watch out!" But its too late, Future Dean pulls the trigger, (Y/N) flinching as the corpse hits the dirt. A seemingly innocent man is now dead on the ground. The other two men look between the two Dean's and the woman everyone thought was dead.

"Damn it." Future Dean mumbles before he addresses the soldiers, "I'm not gonna lie to you. Me and him—It's a pretty messed-up situation we got going. But believe me, when you need to know something, you will know it. Until then, we all have work to do."

~~~~~~~

It took Future Dean a minute to convince Castiel to leave (Y/N)'s side, almost like he wants to redeem himself for her death before. But, eventually, he backs down to his leader's request, but not before he escorted her and the two Deans to Future Dean's cabin. Future Dean shoves the siblings inside, shouting, "What the hell was that?"

"What the hell was that?" Present Dean echos.

(Y/N) holds her arms out like, 'wtf', "You just shot a guy in cold blood."

"We were in an open quarantine zone. Got ambushed by some Croats on the way out." Future Dean explains. Present Dean gives a confused look so Future Dean continues, "Croats. Croatoans. One of them infected Yeager."

"How do you know?" (Y/N) crosses her arms over her chest.

"'Cause after a few years of this, I know. I started seeing symptoms about a half an hour ago. Wasn't gonna be long before he flipped. I didn't see the point in troubling a good man with bad news." Future Dean argues.

Present Dean scoffs, "'Troubling a good man'? You just blew him away in front of your own people. Don't you think that freaked them out a little bit?"

Future Dean interjects, "It's 2014. Plugging some Croat, it's called commonplace. Trading words with my friggin' clone and my dead sister—that might have freaked them out a little."

"All right, look—" Present Dean turns and paces for a moment.

Future Dean just interrupts him again, "No, you look. This isn't your time. It's mine. You don't make the decisions. I do. So, when I say stay in, you stay in."

"All right, man. I'm sorry. Look, I—I'm not trying to mess you—me—us up here." Present Dean stammers.

"I know." Future Dean starts to pour three glasses of alcohol.

Present Dean puts his hands on the table, leaning on it, "It's just been a really wacky weekend."

Future Dean walks back over with the glasses, setting them on the table. "Tell me about it."

The three of them each grab a glass, taking a swig before (Y/N) asks, "What was the mission, anyway?"

Future Dean hesitates for a moment, before reaching for his backpack. He pulls a familiar looking gun out.

"The Colt?" Present Dean looks in awe.

Future Dean nods, "The Colt."

"Where was it?" (Y/N)'s gaze flicks between Future Dean and the weapon.

"Everywhere. They've been moving it around. Took me five years, but...I finally got it. And tonight—," Future Dean lifts his glass with a smirk, "tonight, I'm gonna kill the devil." He downs the rest of his glass with a look of sheer determination.

~~~~~~~

Risa leans against the ladder Present Dean and (Y/N) were handcuffed to earlier, "So, that's it? That's the Colt?" She gestures to said gun on the table, her tone mildly venomous from earlier. Cas walks in front of her standing behind (Y/N)'s chair like Present Cas usually does, a liquor bottle in one hand and a cup in the other.

"If anything can kill Lucifer," Future Dean also gestures to the gun, "this is it."

Risa's tone stays sarcastic, "Great. Have we got anything that can find Lucifer?"

"Are you okay?" Future Dean asks her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the attitude.

Cas pours some of the liquor in his cup as Present Dean interjects before Risa could, "Oh, we were in, uh, Jane's cabin last night. And, apparently, we and...Risa have a connection." The former angel lets out a breathy chuckle from behind his bond and sips his alcohol.

Future Dean glares at his present self, "You want to shut up?" Present Dean only holds his hands up in surrender so Future Dean continues, "We don't have to find Lucifer. We know where he is. The demon that we caught last week, he was one of the big guy's entourage. He knew."

Risa's tone doesn't change, "So, a demon tells you where Satan's gonna be, and you just believe it?"

Future Dean scoffs out a chuckle, "Oh, trust me, he wasn't lying."

"And you know this how?" Risa crosses her arms over her chest.

"Our fearless leader, I'm afraid, is all too well schooled in the art of getting to the truth." Castiel speaks up from behind (Y/N), making her eyebrows furrow.

Present Dean looks around at everyone expectantly, "Torture? Oh, so, we're—we're torturing again." Future Dean gives him a look, Present Dean looking shocked and disappointed, "No, that's—that's good. Classy."

(Y/N) grumbles, "Lovely."

Castiel puts a hand on her shoulder, his thumb gently brushing the back of he neck as he chuckles at her and Present Dean. Future Dean gives Cas the same look. "What? I like past you." The former angel justifies.

Future Dean rolls his eyes and pulls out a map, pointing at a red circle drawn on it, "Lucifer is here. Now. I know the block and I know the building."

"Oh, good—it's right in the middle of a hot zone." Castiel says sarcastically.

Future Dean's gaze at him, offended. "Crawling with Croats, yeah. You saying my plan is reckless?"

"Are you saying we, uh, walk in straight up the driveway, past all the demons and the Croats, and we shoot the devil?" The former angel asks, his sass never wavering.

"Yes."

Cas makes the 'eh' face and continues with his sarcasm, "Okay, if you don't like, uh, 'reckless', I could use 'insouciant', maybe."

"Are you coming?" Future Dean asks.

Cas sighs, "Of course." He then looks at Present Dean, then down at (Y/N). "But why are they? I mean, he's you five years ago. If something happens to him, you're gone, right? And I've already mourned her once, Hell, I'm still mourning. I really don't want to relive that."

"He's coming." Future Dean's voice booms. "And it's been five years. Move on."

Castiel gives him a look of hurt, like he just punched him. His tone holds the offense as well as he stammers. "Okay. Well, uh. I'll get the grunts moving."

"We're loaded and on the road by midnight." Future Dean calls.

"All righty." Cas mumbles as he and Risa leave.

(Y/N) looks pissed off at her brother from the future, both offended by his words and how he treated Castiel. Before she can tell him off though, Present Dean speaks up, "Why are you taking us?"

Future Dean slams a bag on the table, putting the map inside it, "Relax. You'll be fine. Zach's looking after you, right?"

Present Dean shakes his head, "No, that's not what I mean. We want to know what's going on."

The future version Dean hesitates for a moment before slowly walking up to (Y/N) and present Dean, "Yeah, okay. You're coming because I want you to see something. I want you to see our brother." He informs, making eye contact with Present Dean as if to exclude (Y/N) from the 'our brother', which doesn't go unnoticed by either '09 sibling.

"Sam? I thought he was dead." (Y/N)'s eyebrows furrow, forcing her way into the conversation like she's forcing her way into a family affair. Just like she did after the car accident with Dean dying in the hospital.

Future Dean's eyes narrow down at her, "Sam didn't die in Detroit. He said 'yes'."

"'Yes'?" Present Dean asks. There's a long silence before the realization hits him, "Wait. You mean—"

"That's right. The big 'yes'. To the devil. Lucifer's wearing him to the prom. (Y/N) went to find him after the argument and he killed her." Future Dean gestures to the woman.

"Why would he do that?" Present Dean looks horrified, the thought of his sister dying by Lucifer's hand was one thing, but his sister dying by Lucifer's hand while he possesses their brother is something else.

Future Dean walks back to the table, starting to load the Colt, "Wish I knew. But now we don't have a choice. It's in him, and it's not getting out. And we've got to kill him, Dean. And you need to see it—the whole damn thing, how bad it gets—so you can do it different."

"What do you mean?" Present Dean's eyebrows furrow.

"Zach said he was gonna bring you back, right? To oh-nine?"

(Y/N) nods, crossing her arms over her chest, "Yeah."

Future Dean glances at her, then at his present counterpart, "Well, when you get back home—you say 'yes'. You hear me? Say 'yes' to Michael."

"That's crazy. If I let him in, then Michael fights the devil. The battle's gonna torch half the planet." Present Dean argues.

"Look around you, man. Half the planet's better than no planet, which is what we have now." Future Dean's voice raises, "If I could do it over again, I'd say 'yes' in a heartbeat."

"So why don't you?"

Future Dean scoffs, "I've tried! I've shouted 'yes' till I was blue in the face! The angels aren't listening! They just—left—gave up! It's too late for me, but for you—"

Present Dean shakes his head, "Oh, no. There's got to be another way."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. I was cocky. Never actually thought I'd lose. But I was wrong. Dean. I was wrong. I'm begging you. Say yes." Future Dean pleads. He pauses for a moment before continuing, "But you won't. 'Cause I didn't. Because that's just not us, is it?"

~~~~~~~

1st Person POV:

"So, you're really from oh-nine?" Chuck asks Dean and I as the cars are loaded up.

"Yeah, afraid so." Present Dean sighs.

"Some free advice? You ever get back there, you hoard toilet paper. You understand me? Hoard it. Hoard it like it's made of gold. 'Cause it is." Chuck warns, eyeing us both.

Dean just gives an awkward smile while I giggle, "Thank you, Chuck."

"Oh, you'll thank me, all right. Mark my words."

"I'll see you around." Dean rolls his eyes as we get in the car.

"Yeah. Okay."

A little bit into the drive, I sit between Present Dean and Future Cas. Cas is driving while Dean sits in the passenger seat. Cas pulls out a pill bottle, opening it and downing one of the pills dry.

"Let me see those." Dean says, holding his hand out for the bottle.

Cas hands them over without issue, even asking, "You want some?"

"Amphetamines?" Dean asks almost like he's waiting for Castiel to explain himself.

Cas only clears his throat, "It's the perfect antidote to that absinthe."

"Mmm. Don't get me wrong, Cas. I, uh. I'm happy that the stick is out of your ass, but—what's going on—w-with the drugs and the orgies and the love-guru crap?" Dean raises an eyebrow, leaning forward in his seat so he can look passed me to Cas. When Castiel laughs, Dean only gets more confused. "What's so funny?"

"Guys, I'm not an angel anymore." Cas shakes his head, a smile on his handsome face that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.

"What?" I interject, looking at the former angel with sadness.

When his eyes shift to me I can see the inner turmoil, the grief, but he's still smiling, "Yeah, I went mortal."

"What do you mean? How?" Dean interrogates.

"After my (Y/N) was killed, I, uh, didn't think I deserved it anymore. I couldn't keep her safe. So I carved it out. Like Anna did. And now, you know, I'm practically human. I mean, guys, I'm all but useless. Last year, broke my foot, laid up for two months." Castiel explains, trying not to let his grief show through his voice.

"Wow." I mumble sympathetically.

The former angel nods his head, "Yeah."

Dean is silent for a moment before saying, "So, you're human. Well, welcome to the club."

"Thanks. Except I used to belong to a much better club. And now I'm powerless. I'm hapless, I'm hopeless. I mean, why the hell not bury myself in women and decadence, right? Now that the love of my life is dead in this future. It's the end, baby. That's what decadence is for. Why not bang a few gongs before the lights go out? But then that's, that's just how I roll."

~~~~~~~

3rd Person POV:

Everyone walks up to Jackson County Sanitorium, Risa, Cas, both Deans, (Y/N), and a few other soldiers, all carrying a variety of guns. Future Dean looks through a window with a pair of binoculars, "There. Second-floor window. We go in there."

"You sure about this?" Risa asks.

Future Dean looks over his shoulder at the group of people behind him, "They'll never see us coming. Trust me. Now, weapons check. We're on the move in five."

Present Dean looks at him with suspicion, "Hey, uh, me. Can I talk to you for a sec?" Present Dean silently drags (Y/N) to the side with Future Dean and quietly demands, "Tell us what's going on."

"What?"

(Y/N)'s eyes narrow at Future Dean, catching onto what Present Dean was talking about, "I know you. You're lying to these people and to us."

Future Dean scoffs, "Is that so."

"Yeah. See, I know your lying expressions. I've seen them in the mirror. Now, there's something you're not telling us." Present Dean argues.

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

"Oh, really? Well, I don't seem to be the only member of your posse with some questions, so, uh, maybe I'll just take my doubts over to them." Present Dean threatens, starting to walk away.

Future Dean stops him from getting too far, "Okay, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait."

"What?"

Future Dean gestures around the group, "Take a look around you, man. This place should be white-hot with Croats. Where are they?"

(Y/N)'s eyebrows furrow as she looks around, "They cleared a path for us. Which means that this is—"

"A trap. Exactly." Future Dean interrupts.

"Well, then we can't go through the front."

"Oh, we're not." Future Dean reassures, "They are. They're the decoys. You two and me, we're going in through the back."

"You mean you're gonna feed your friends into a meat grinder? Cas, too? You want to use their deaths as a diversion?" Present Dean glares at his future self, making Future Dean look away, "Oh, man, something is broken in you. You're making decisions that I would never make. I wouldn't sacrifice my friends."

"You're right. You wouldn't. It's one of the main reasons we're in this mess, actually."

"These people count on you. They trust you." Present Dean continues to argue.

"They trust me to kill the devil and to save the world and that's exactly what I'm gonna do."

"No. Not like this, you're not. We're not gonna let you." Present Dean stares into the soul of his future self, if he even has one.

Future Dean scoffs, "Oh, really?"

"Yeah." (Y/N) cuts in, also sending a glare his way. Without another word, Future Dean hits Present Dean with the butt of his gun, and before (Y/N) can yell for the others, she gets knocked out too.

~~~~~~~

Present Dean wakes up on his stomach in the leaves, gunfire ringing out in the air which is muffled by the walls of the sanitorium. He looks up, seeing (Y/N) on her back, still not conscious. He gets to his knees, crawling over to her and gently patting her face in an effort to wake her up. She groans and opens her eyes, looking up at her brother.

Dean helps her up, both of them looking at the building. "Oh God, Cas no." (Y/N) mumbles, utter devastation in her voice. DEAN wakes up on the ground. Thunder booms in the sky as lightning flashes, the siblings running up to the building where they see a figure standing over Future Dean. The figure has a foot on Future Dean's neck, being held down.

Future Dean opens his eyes, seeing Present Dean and (Y/N) right before the figure shifts his weight and audibly snapping Future Dean's neck under his foot. (Y/N) swallows a gasp as he figure turns around, Sam facing them in an all-white suit. But there's something off about him.

Lucifer, in Sam's body, smirks, "Oh. Hello, Dean, (Y/N)." The siblings just stare at their brother, or what used to be their brother, "Aren't you a surprise." With another crash of thunder and flash of lightning, Lucifer is behind them both. The Winchester and Singer duo take a step back away from him. "You've come a long way to see this, haven't you?"

"Well, go ahead. Kill me." Dean surrenders, hoping it would save his sister's life along with the rest of the group, if they weren't dead already."

Lucifer tilts his head, "Kill you?" The fallen archangel's gaze flicks to the corpse of Future Dean before landing back on the siblings. "Don't you think that would be a little...redundant? I mean, now I've killed both of you once." He sighs and takes a step forward. "I'm sorry. It must be painful, speaking to me in this—shape. But it had to be your brother. It had to be." Lucifer reaches out to touch each of their shoulders, but Dean flinches back and pulls his sister with him. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Dean. What do you think I'm going to do?"

"I don't know. Maybe deep-fry the planet?" Dean snaps.

Lucifer examines a rose before turning back around to face the siblings, "Why? Why would I want to destroy this stunning thing? Beautiful in a trillion different ways. The last perfect handiwork of God." When Dean and (Y/N) don't answer, he continues, "You ever hear the story of how I fell from grace?"

"Oh, good God, you're not gonna tell me a bedtime story, are you? My stomach's almost out of bile." Dean grumbles sarcastically.

"What is this? An Adam Sandler movie?" (Y/N) chimes in with her own sass.

"You know why God cast me down? Because I loved him. More than anything. And then God created..." Lucifer smirks, a chuckle falling from his lips, "You. The little...hairless apes. And then he asked all of us to bow down before you—to love you, more than him. And I said, 'Father, I can't.' I said, 'These human beings are flawed, murderous.' And for that, God had Michael cast me into Hell. Now, tell me, does the punishment fit the crime? Especially, when I was right? Look at what six billion of you have done to this thing, and how many of you blame me for it."

"You're not fooling us, you know that? With this sympathy-for-the-devil crap. I know what you are." Dean says, tearing up as he sees his brother, the little boy he basically raised, now possessed by the literal devil.

"What am I?" Lucifer asks.

Dean's voice breaks more and more as he tells the fallen angel, "You're the same thing, only bigger. The same brand of cockroach I've been squashing my whole life. An ugly, evil, belly-to-the-ground, supernatural piece of crap. The only difference between them and you is the size of your ego." Dean lets out a shaky breath, (Y/N) letting a few tears of her own fall.

Lucifer just smiles, "I like you, guys. I get what the other angels see in you. I see why Cas loves you so much. Goodbye. We'll meet again soon."

As Lucifer turns to walk away Dean yells, "You better kill me now!"

The fallen archangel turns back around, seemingly confused. "Pardon?"

"You better kill me now. Or I swear, I will find a way to kill you. And I won't stop."

"I know you won't." Lucifer interrupts, "I know you won't say yes to Michael, either. And I know you won't kill Sam. Whatever you do, you will always end up here. Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up—here. Sam will scream in this vessel while I kill (Y/N)." His gaze flickers to said woman, then back at Dean as a tear falls down Dean's cheek. "I'll still kill you, and Castiel. I win. So, I win."

"You're wrong." (Y/N) chokes out, glaring at the shell of her brother taken over by somebody else.

"See you in five years, Dean." Lucifer then looks at (Y/N). "I'll see you soon, baby sister." With more thunder and lightning that would put Thor to shame, Lucifer is gone. The siblings turn around, Zachariah behind them. The angel puts two fingers on each of their foreheads and takes them back to 2009.

~~~~~~~

The siblings breathe heavy as they're transported back into the motel room they left earlier, just now more intact. Dean glares at Zachariah, "Oh, well, if it isn't the ghost of Christmas screw you."

"Enough. Dean, enough. You saw it, right? You saw what happens. You're the only person who can prove the devil wrong. Just say yes." The angel tries to convince Dean.

"How do I know that this whole thing isn't one of your tricks? Huh? Some angel hocus-pocus?" Dean's voice starts to raise a little.

Zachariah takes a couple steps forward, getting closer to the siblings. "The time for tricks is over. Give yourself to Michael. Say yes and we can strike. Before Lucifer gets to Sam. Before billions die. Before (Y/N) dies."

Dean knows this trick, trying to use his siblings against him, but he knows his siblings would rather go through Hell than have him be some angel's bitch. "Nah."

"'Nah'? You telling me you haven't learned your lesson?" The angel's voice gets more threatening as he gets closer.

"Oh, I've learned a lesson, all right. Just not the one you wanted to teach." Dean says smugly.

"Well, I'll just have to teach it again! Because I got you now, boy, and I'm never letting you—" In the blink of an eye, both (Y/N) and Dean are gone, vanished from Zachariah's sight. "Son of a..."

The siblings look around, seeing that they're outside on a damp road. They turn, seeing the familiar angel in a trenchcoat. "Cas!" (Y/N) yells, launching herself in the arms of her celestial lover. The angel's arms wrap around her middle, his face burying in her shoulder. He knows what she saw, he can read her mind after all.

"That's pretty nice timing, Cas." Dean lets out a shaky chuckle.

Castiel lifts his head from (Y/N)'s shoulder, smiling down at her before also smiling at Dean, "We had an appointment."

Dean leans forward, putting his hand on Castiel's shoulder, "Don't ever change."

"How did Zachariah find you?" He asks Dean, one of his hands cradling the back of (Y/N)'s head so he can plant a kiss on the top of her head.

"Long story. Let's just stay away from Jehovah's Witnesses from now on, okay?" Dean confirms as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

Castiel's eyebrows furrow as he peers at Dean's phone screen, "What are you doing?"

The hunter puts his phone up to his ear. "Something I should have done in the first place"

~~~~~~~

Dean leans against the side of the Impala with (Y/N), who's rocking her weight between her legs as another car pulls up. The six foot four inch frame of Sam Winchester gets out of the beige Lincoln Continental and walks over to his brother and sister.

"Sam." (Y/N) lets out a breath of relief, happy to see her brother.

Dean reaches into his inner coat pocket, pulling out Ruby's knife. Sam looks at it nervously as Dean flips it so the handle faces Sam. "If you're serious and you want back in...you should hang on to this. I'm sure you're rusty." Sam takes the knife but he can't meet Dean's eyes. "Look, man, I'm sorry. I don't know. I'm...whatever I need to be. But I was, uh—wrong."

After a moment of hesitation, Sam asks, "What made you change your mind?"

Dean chuckles, "Long story. The point is...maybe we are each other's Achilles heel. Maybe they'll find a way to use us against each other, I don't know. I just know that besides (Y/N), we're all we've got. More than that. We keep each other human."

"Thank you. Really. Thank you. I won't let you down." Sam replies softly, gratefully.

"Oh, I know it. I mean, you are the second-best hunter on the planet. Tied with (Y/N)." The older Winchester smirks.

(Y/N) walks forward, wrapping her arms around Sam's middle. One of his arms wraps around her shoulders as he asks, "So, what do we do now?"

"We make our own future." Dean looks at his siblings with determination.

"Guess we have no choice."

(A/N): Im so sorry this took so long to come out! Don't worry! It's here! I'm feeding yall! I've also got another x reader in the works *ahem* involving our favorite zombie apocalypse, crossbow wielding redneck so stay tuned for that as well.

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