#i watched up to S05E04 as it was airing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

huntertales · 8 years ago

Text

Part Two: I Don’t Even Trust Myself. (The End S05E04)

Useful Links: Last Part | All Episodes Word Count: 6,158. A/N: Again, another extremely long part! I'm finding this episode a lot of fun to write for, and I hope you guys are enjoying it also. More should be out very soon. But for now, enjoy!

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ function replaceAll(find, replace, str) { return str.replace(new RegExp(find, 'g'), replace); } function myHandler() { var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; document.body.innerHTML = replaceAll('Y/N', document.getElementById("inputTxt").value, document.body.innerHTML); } // ]]>

A dull, throbbing pain in the back of your head greeted you when you found yourself slowly coming back into consciousness. You slowly began to register your surroundings with closed eyes as you felt yourself sitting in an upright position, your back pressed against something that felt uncomfortable and lumpy. Your wounded arm was lifted up high as your other remained on the floor, from the wood you felt, you proposed the idea that you were indoors. You squinted your eyes and let out a groan of annoyance when you felt a sting of pain come from your cut after you tried moving around your arm from the awkward position, but you barely moved it a few inches. Your eyes ripped wide open when you heard the sound of metal clanking together and a coldness touch your wrist. You immediately realized not a second later someone had handcuffed you to a metal ladder, and took the liberty of tending to your wound.

"What the hell?" You muttered underneath your breath as you began trying to remember how you landed yourself in this position. You glanced over to see that Dean was right next to you, and he was handcuffed to the ladder also, something he would soon realize after he came back around. You slowly drew your gaze away from him to look around at the cabin you were in, taking notice most of the belongings in here were minimal, almost like what you would expect for a park ranger's office. But you found your head snapping straight forward when you heard the sound of someone jamming a magazine clip into a gun. "What the hell?"

There was a man sitting at a table right across the room, he distanced himself from you and Dean, but kept himself busy by putting back together an assault rifle. You nervously swallowed when you made eye contact with the stranger with a same pair of green eyes just like the man lying next to you. Hell, he had the same....everything. The only difference you could tell was in his face, the fine lines you had loved on him were more prominent, aging him for the time frame you were in now. “Shouldn’t be I asking that question, don't you think, sweetheart?”

You opened your mouth to try and figure out a response that could explain what you were doing here, but before you could, you slowly looked over at Dean. The man began to come back around, taking only a few seconds to realize the predicament he was in, and his double sitting right across from him. "In fact," You watched as the second Dean lowered the rifle to the man sitting next to you, ignoring the surprised reaction. "Why don't you give me one good reason why I shouldn't gank you two right here and now?"

"Because you'd be only hurting yourself." Your Dean responded, hoping a bit of humor might help lighten the mood. It seemed to have done the trick, his doppleganger positioned the gun straight up in the air, continuing on loading it up right in front of you. "Look, man, we're not shapeshifters or demons or anything, okay?"

"Yeah, I know. I did the drill while you guys were out. Silver, salt, holy water—nothing." Future Dean put down he was tinkering with onto the table so he could shift around his seat. He faced the both of you, listing off a few techniques hunters used to make sure unsuspecting visitors weren't monsters. You noticed that he was staring at you dead in the eye when he listed off the last two, all before his attention drifted to his much younger twin. "But you know what was funny? Was that you had every hidden lock pick, box cutter, and switchblade that I carry. Now, you want to explain that? Oh, and the, uh...resemblance, while you're at it?"

You shifted your gaze over to the man you were sitting next to, both of you shared a glance, wondering if it would be best to admit why you were really here. You shrugged your shoulders, thinking it wouldn't hurt to try and put some clarification before somebody got hurt. Looking over at the older man, you admitted the truth by speaking an old name he should have very well remembered. "Zachariah."

Dean, the one across the room, didn't hide his surprise from hearing the name he hadn't heard in a long time. He pushed his chair backwards, letting the legs scratch across the floor, all before he was pushing himself to his feet and looked down at you to give you a skeptical look. It was almost as if he didn't believe what you had just said. "Come again?"

"I'm you from the tail end of 2009. Zach plucked us from our bed and threw us five years into the future." Dean explained to his future self, hoping that could help clear up a few misconceptions that were going on here.

"Where is he?" Dean, the future version, questioned the both of you. You watched as he took a few cautious steps forward to the both of you. "I want to talk to him."

You shrugged your shoulders and admitted, "I don't know."

"Oh, you don't know." Future Dean repeated, almost mocking your answer.

"Did you happen to become deaf in the past five years? Like I said, I don't know." You replied yet again, admitting that you had no idea where that stupid son of a bitch they called an angel had wandered off to. "Look, we just want to get back to our own freaking year, okay? Not to mention, seeing...this," You gestured to the Dean sitting next to you and then waved your arm over at the other one standing over you, "It’s kind of freaking me out. We just want to go back to our time. And we sure as hell didn't ask to be apart of this."

Dean listened to your answer, but it seemed he wasn't exactly in the trusting mood, he wanted to see his doppleganger sitting right next to you was truly him. He let out a quiet sigh and wiped his mouth with his hand from the very strange position he'd landed himself in. Dean took another step forward and crouched down so he was at your level, but his attention was solely on his twin, the same one who should have shared all the same memories as he remembered him. "Okay, if you're me..." He pointed his finger at the younger man. "The tell me something only I would know."

The man sitting next to you with his wrist handcuffed to the ladder scoffed at the request, rolling his eyes in annoyance. He didn't know exactly what he could say in order to get himself to prove that he was himself. He thought about an answer as he glanced around the room, taking a chance to examine small little details, all before he was making eye contact with his double, who quietly waited for an answer. Dean quickly looked away when nothing came to mind, that was, until his eyes landed on you. And just like that, he knew exactly what to say.

"Y/N," You raised your brows when you heard him speak your name, but it wasn't directed to you. He turned his gaze away from you and looked back at his doppleganger. "We were eighteen when we first laid eyes on her. Thought she was pretty cute, so we tried flirting. Sure didn't go well, she shot us down, but we kept trying because there was something about her that we liked. Turns out, we ended up getting ourselves into that crap puppy dog love faze we thought would never happen. We...fell for her."

He admitted the story that you had known well enough, the one where he played as the mystery woman from his past that turned out to be you. His future self narrowed his eyes on him, ever so slightly convinced, but the real Dean wasn't finished. "But that's not the Y/N we fell for. It didn't happen all at once like before. The more we hunted with Y/N, the more we realized how much she meant to us. And you know, that demon deal was a real kick in the pants for us, too."

His future self fell silent, processing the answer, knowing well enough he was right, that little bit of information was something he hadn't told anyone but himself. Dean nodded his head at the younger man's response, deciding that it was enough to believe this situation. He pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the table, where you noticed a whole array of weapons scattered across. "So, what—Zach zapped you two up here to see how bad it gets?"

"I guess." You admitted, thinking there wasn't too much else you could presume for the time jump. Your eyes were drawn over to the older version of Dean, he grabbed a pistol from the table and cocked it back, just from the small move, he appeared different. He seemed more in control of himself, and much more colder when he looked at you. "Croatoan virus, right? That's their endgame?"

"It's efficient, it's incurable, and it's scary as hell." Dean explained the situation to the both of you as he loaded up a duffel bag full of the weapons. You shifted around your arm once more, feeling a cramp beginning to settle after you stayed in the position for too long. "Turns people into monsters. Started hitting the major cities about two years ago. World really went in the crapper after that."

You listened to the information, expecting nothing less from the spread of a disease you had seen in its original phase. While you were happy to see that Dean was still alive and kicking five years later, someone else came across your mind, making you wonder what happened. "What about Sam?"

Dean stopped packing when he heard the name, it was almost as if it had brought back a few bitter memories that he wished to forget. He looked over at you to answer your question, despite not wanting to open up old wounds. "Heavyweight showdown in Detroit." He said, telling you what he knew. "From what I understand, you and Sam didn't make it."

You furrowed your brow when you heard the information you would have never suspected to come through. You always thought time could heal all wounds, the boys weren't the type to go on for too long, they always found their way back to each other. "What?" You asked, your voice suddenly coming out quiet. “What happened?”

"Oh, I think you remember." Dean responded, his eyes drifting over to you when he made a small jab. You gave him a confused look, unsure of what he meant by that. "Me and Sam, we hadn't talked in, hell, five years. I'd say about the same time, too, after Y/N ran off to look for him, thought she could get the family back together. Guess it didn't turn out pretty." The Dean sitting next to you listened to the information, and from the look on his face, it was as if someone punched him right in the gut after hearing you and his little brother didn't share the same fate as him. "Look, I would love to frolic down memory lane, but I got other people to worry about. And I got to run an errand.”

"Whoa. You're just gonna leave us here?" You questioned the man.

"Yes." Dean answered with a sharp tone, as if he was just expecting for you to listen to his command without backlash. "I got a camp full of twitchy trauma survivors out there with an apocalypse hanging over their head. The last thing they need is to see is a double showing of 'The Parent Trap' and 'Pet Sematary.' So, yeah, you two stay locked up."

"Okay. All right. Fine. But you don't have to cuff us, man." Dean said, agreeing to a certain part of the plan only to hope and squeeze out another part after he was getting a muscle cramp. His future self didn't listen, he just zippered up the duffel bag and flung the strap over his shoulder, he grabbed his gun and headed for the door. "Oh, come on. You don't trust yourself?"

"No. Absolutely not." His future said. He reached up a free hand and pointed a finger at you, making you give him a confused look from the accusation. "Especially not her."

With that, Dean opened up and slammed the door, heading out to whatever task that was more important. You scoffed from what he had said to you as you dropped yourself into a more comfortable position after awkwardly craning your neck to look over your shoulder. You settled yourself into a comfortable position and glanced over at the Dean you arrived with to speak to him in private. "Future you is a dick."

+ + +

It might have taken all night, but Dean found a way to get the both of you out. Most floorboards were held down with very small nails, a perfect substitute he could use after his lock pick was taken away. You were overjoyed when your arm was free after spending countless hours in the same position and given the chance to finally stretch your legs. The both of you decided to play with a bit of fire, thinking it wouldn't hurt to explore the compound to figure out what was going on here, and if there was another familiar face still breathing.

You quietly opened up the door to the cabin and stepped out to the porch, you took a moment to explore the camp. Everything was what you might have expected for an end of the world compound, there was all sorts of technological looking things spread around the place, not to mention cars that laid abandoned, stripped away from their parts that were still good. You walked down the few steps with Dean following right behind you, the both of you cautiously looked to see if there was anyone around, but there wasn’t a single soul in sight. You thought it was the perfect time to try and explore more of the place, but you flinched when you heard a voice approach you from behind, and from the sounds of it, you recognized it as a familiar one.

"Hey, Dean." You quickly turned around on your heels when you heard the voice. You looked straight ahead to see that it was Chuck Shurley. He was approaching Dean with a clipboard in his hand and a pen in the other. It was an important set of tools for a writer, but he wasn't here to discuss the plot of his next book. He was here on very much more important business. "You got a second?"

"No. Yes. Uh," Dean was caught off guard, surprised himself to see the man he hadn't been in contact with over the past few months. He tried to get himself to focus after you roughly jabbed your elbow into his side, luckily going unnoticed by Chuck. "I—I guess. Hi, Chuck."

"Hi." Chuck greeted the man with a brief response before his attention back to his clipboard, needing to discuss the monthly inventory he spent all morning counting. "So, uh, listen, we're pretty good on canned goods for now, But we're down to next to nothing on perishables and hygiene supplies. People are not gonna be happy about this. What do you think we should do?"

"I don't know." Dean answered with an honest response. Chuck looked at the man as if he'd gone crazy, so Dean decided to change his answer to something his future self might suggest. "Maybe, uh, share? You know, like at a kibbutz."

"Wait a minute. Aren't you supposed to be out on a mission right now?" Chuck found himself overstepping the boundaries by asking questions Future Dean wouldn't be too pleased with. But it seemed the man could detect that something was off with him. Dean raised his eyebrows, pretending to be casual about the matter, but it didn't help when the man slowly looked away from him, and pointed the pen he was holding directly at you. Dean, the future version of himself, had set up a pretty strict set of guidelines of not letting any more survivors into the campsite, not since the last incident. "And who is she?"

"Absolutely. And I will be." Dean said, making up an excuse for the man's first answer. He placed a hand on your shoulder and quickly made up an excuse before any other questions could arise. "This is...she's new. Thought I would show her the ropes before heading off."

Chuck continued to look at Dean with a funny expression, but his attention drifted to something else. You noticed his expression had changed drastically when he spotted a familiar face approaching Dean from behind, and before he could give a warning, the threat grabbed him from behind. You quickly found yourself stumbling backwards when you noticed a blurry figure suddenly pop out of nowhere. A woman you've never seen before suddenly came into the conversation swinging, literally. She started punches directly aimed at Dean, giving no excuse of why. You watched with confusion as he tried stumbling away, unsure himself what the hell was going on, but she was persistent, trying to knee him in the groin before Dean managed to find safety by hiding behind Chuck. You heard the man speak her name in a calm tone, your eyes wandered to Risa, who wasn't very happy.

"You spent the night in Jane's cabin last night, didn't you?" Risa questioned the man, thinking it was of her time. You raised your brow from the accusation, Dean seemed baffled, Chuck ratted him out by nodding his head. She scoffed and shook her head, disbelief written in her expression as she looked over at you. "Oh, I see how it is. You find a survivor that's young and pretty, so you decide to bend the rules for a new face. And here I thought we had a 'connection.'"

"Well, I'm sure that we do." Dean said, cracking a smile at the woman.

"Yeah?" Risa asked. "Screw you, jackass."

You watched as Risa stormed off, obviously not pleased at seeing another face, and from what you were getting, it seemed there was a few set of rules that you were breaking just by being here. Nobody knew who you were, which was a good thing, it meant at least nobody was freaking out seeing a face coming back from the dead. Dean, on the other hand, was trying to process what just happened. "Oh, geez, I'm getting busted for stuff I haven't even done yet." He muttered underneath his breath. Chuck's remark quickly made the man focus back his attention after seeing Risa disappear from sight. "Uh, never mind. Hey, Chuck, is...Cas still here?"

"Yeah." Chuck answered, quietly chuckling to himself as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't think Cas is going anywhere."

Hearing that Cas was still around was the best thing you had heard since you gotten here. Chuck told you where you could find the angel after heading back to the problem that needed to be solved about rations. You made it across the compound with Dean, managing to avoid another deranged woman or a familiar face from your past. You made it up the cabin steps and began to approach the doorway, you noticed right away the door was replaced with a string of beads. Dean shrugged his shoulders when you glanced over at him, deciding on to approach himself first into the cabin, he moved along the strings, peeking his head inside when he heard Cas's voice.

"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." This didn't sound like the Cas you had remembered. You approached behind Dean and stepped inside the bedroom that looked like it would have belonged to a peace loving, earth worshipping hippie. You peered over Dean's large frame to see that Cas wasn't the angel you would have suspected he would have become in five years. He was sitting on the ground, a circle of four women around him, passionately listening to every single word of philosophy as if it were the best thing they had ever heard. The angel stopped speaking when he noticed Dean lingering in the doorway. "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?"

What came out of the angel's mouth made you do a double take, needing to take a further inspection of him. You got out of the way when the women made their exit so they could prepare for whatever the hell was going to happen. You had only known Cas as the angel who wore his suit and trench coat, a speciesism who you recently came to realize was still a shy little virgin. What you saw was a complete opposite. The angel standing in front of you was more of a relaxed version of himself, his hair was longer and he was showing of a beard. Not to mention as the woman passed by, he worshiped them and complimented them on their beauty, obviously showing you how easily he adjusted to the opposite gender and coming to love what they could offer.

Cas pushed himself to his feet, deciding to take the time on stretching out his limbs, cracking a few bones in the process. Dean took a few steps into the room, needing to find out what happened to the angel. "What are you, a hippie?"

"I thought you'd gotten over trying to label me." Cas said, taking his time cracking his neck. He let out a sigh and turned around in his spot, finally facing the both of you, only he was taken back at who he was seeing. "Whoa. Strange. You...are not you—not ‘now’ you, anyway.” He noticed right away from Dean, but when he spotted you, that was a whole other story, he looked at you like he was reunited with a best friend he hadn't seen in years. Before you could realize what was happening, you found yourself being pulled into a hug by him. He squeezed you tightly and rocked you back and forth, muttering your name. You were happy to see that he remembered who you were, but he was only beginning the reunion. He pulled away, only before his hands cupped your face, as if he needed to take a closer inspection of you. "Y/N, sweet Y/N. It’s been so long. What year are you both from?”

You managed to pull yourself away from the angel, finding his welcome a bit too much for your own personal comfort. "2009." You answered for him after standing next to Dean again.

"That explains why you're still...you, Y/N. Who did this to you? Is it Zachariah?" Cas asked, you nodded your head. The angel processed the information, he let out a sigh and lifted a finger to his chin. "Interesting."

"Oh, yeah, it's friggin' fascinating." Dean remarked with sarcasm. "Now why don't you strap on your angel wings and fly me and Y/N back to our page on the calendar?"

Cas responded to the man's command by laughing, but it wasn't because he thought it was funny. Oh, no. It was because you reminded him of what he couldn't do anymore. "I wish I could just, uh, strap on my wings, but I'm sorry—no dice."

You thought the chuckling would have stopped, but it seemed Cas turned his bitter memory into a joke. His lips stretched farther into a toothy grin as he kept chuckling. You stepped forward to examine him, and from a simple sniff, you threw an accusation at him. "Are you stoned?"

"Generally," Cas admitted with a shrug. "Yeah."

"What happened to you?" You couldn't help yourself but ask.

"Life." The angel said. “That's what happened."

You were tempted to figure out what he meant by that answer, but your attention was being pulled away when you heard something coming from outside, it sounded like a car engine. You headed back outside, pushing away the strings as you stepped onto the porch. You noticed about two cars, a truck and a jeep, pulling back into the compound. Dean noticed it himself, but when you spotted a familiar face in the driver's side, you began making your way forward through the unfamiliar surroundings and straight for the jeep, knowing that's where the future version of Dean was.

You watched as he got out, his men followed suit, grabbing the supplies they snatched, all while Dean toasted them for a job well done by handing out a few cans of lukewarm beer. All seemed to have been going well, that was, until you noticed Dean do something he would never do. He pulled out his gun from the holster and pointed it directly at one of his men, who didn't suspect a thing.

"Hey. Hey!" You did what you thought was right, suddenly wondering if this version of Dean had suddenly turned himself into a psycho. You began sprinting forward, trying your hardest to stop the situation before an innocent man's life was cut short. "Watch out!"

But the warning went unnoticed. You stopped in your tracks when you heard the gunshot come from Dean's gun and the man landed face first into the dirt. You inhaled a deep breath from what you had witnessed at what Dean had done without a single ounce of remorse. His men were taken back themselves, but it wasn't seeing one of their own be murdered, you noticed right away they were staring at you—and the much younger version of Dean standing back with Cas, surprised himself at what unfolded. Dean, of this present, looked over his shoulder to see what was causing such a distress. He lowered his gun and looked over his shoulder, quickly spotting you right away, and to his dismay, his doppleganger hanging around Cas the hippie. Things had gone from bad to worse case scenario.

"Damn it." Dean hissed underneath his breath. He let out a frustrated sigh, knowing he was going to have to explain this messy situation to his men. "I'm not gonna lie to you. Me and him—it's a pretty messed up situation we got going on. And as for her, you are not to go near her, she's my responsibility. I suggest you leave it at that. When you need to know something, you will know it. Until then, we all have work to do. And Cas," Dean pointed a finger the angel when he noticed his younger self was hovering next to him. "Keep an eye out for him. I'll be back."

Nobody seemed to try and ask a question, you watched as the men nodded their heads, listening to the command. You furrowed your brow as your eyes drifted to the ground where you saw the man still lying on the ground, blood still seeping out from his his gunshot wound to the head, slowly mixing with the dirt and creating clumps that passed as a shallow puddle. Your gaze was ripped away when you felt someone tightly wrap their hand around your arm, yanking you forward. Your head snapped to the side to see that it was Dean, he kept his gaze straight ahead, not caring that he was pulling you around. You tried your hardest to shove him away, but he only pulled you closer, making you accidentally stumble and fall into his chest. He didn't seem fazed, he just pulled you back up to your feet and lowered his head down so his lips were hovering over the shell of your ear.

"If you want to survive sweetheart, I suggest you start listening." Dean warned you, deciding it'd be best to give you a bit of a personal taste for what kind of man he became. You and him walked together in sync back to the cabin you had woken up in. You roughly felt yourself being shoved inside as Dean followed suit, he slammed it shut after, giving the both of you privacy. "What the hell was that?"

"What the hell was that?" You questioned him back. Your finger pointed at the door and showed no signs of being afraid of his stern expression, he dropped the duffel bag he was carrying to the table. "You just shot a guy in cold blood!"

"We were in an open quarantine zone—got ambushed by some crotes on the way out." Future Dean explained to you. You raised your brows from the terminology you weren't familiar with, he rolled his eyes. "Crotes—Croatians. One of them infected Yager."

You narrowed your eyes on him suspiciously, "How do you know?"

"Cause after a few years of this, I know, sweetheart." Dean said. You didn't seem to take his word for it as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I started seeing symptoms about a half an hour ago. Wasn't gonna be long before he flipped. I didn't see the point of troubling a good man with bad news."

"'Troubling a good man'? Do you hear yourself?" You found yourself arguing with him, suddenly overwhelmed at how different Dean had become over the years. "You just shot him in front of your own people. Don't you think that freaked them out a little bit?"

"It's 2014, Y/N. Plugging some crote—it's called commonplace. Trading words with someone who's been dead for four years and having them seeing my friggin' clone running around here—that might have freaked them out a little." Dean said, his voice was beginning to grow ever so slightly louder and more rougher. You decided that it was enough, you threw your hands up in defeat, wanting to end this before it could get worse. But before you could say anything, he cut you off. "Listen here, Y/N, You can drop this little act and listen for once. 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."

"So when you tell me to jump, should I ask how high?” You couldn't help yourself when you began mocking him, not particularly enjoying this little rise of power he was using on you. You waited for him to respond with something more threatening to keep you quiet. Instead he began walking forward to the other side of the cabin, grabbing a few things from the countertop. What you heard next made you look at him with a bit of surprise—he was ever so quietly chuckling to himself. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." Dean said. He grabbed a glass bottle of whiskey from the countertop and two clean glasses, sliding them over, he began pouring a shot glass amount in them. You walked over to the table when he snatched the glasses up, pinching them between his index and thumb, his other hand carrying the bottle back over to where you were. He placed the glasses down and grabbed one for himself, allowing you to take the other. You decided it wouldn't hurt to take a drink, but when you took a sip of the whiskey, you accidentally hissed after you felt it burn down your throat. Dean watched you, quietly snickering to himself. "You could never handle whiskey.”

"Guess not. What was the mission, anyway?" You asked him, deciding to bring this conversation on something more important. Dean was about to finish his drink, but stopped himself when he heard your question. He seemed hesitant to show you, but after a second, he placed down his glass, and reached out for the duffel bag. He unzipped it and opened up the sides, all before pulling out something you thought you'd never see again. You looked up at Dean when he held it close to him. "The colt? Where was it?"

"Everywhere. They've been moving it around. Took me five years, but, I finally got it. And tonight," Dean examined the colt with a close eye, his lips stretching into a grin as he inspected the craftsmanship. He gently placed it back down on the table, switching it out for his glass of whiskey. "Tonight, I'm gonna kill the Devil."

Dean took the final sip of his drink like a champ, he licked his lips and let out a sigh, deciding it wouldn't hurt to have another one for his accomplishment. As he reached for the bottle to pour himself another drink, you leaned forward and placed both your palms on the table, you quietly examined the colt. "Wow. You spent five years hunting down the colt." You started a conversation that seemed civil enough. Your eyes slowly wandered back up to the man, he was much different from what you could remember. He was thirty five years old, each little wrinkle on his face showed his age, and the struggles he went through life without you. "Five years you wasted instead of tracking down your brother. You selfish, stupid, son of a bitch."

From the look on his face, Dean wasn't expecting for you to respond like this. You didn't care about listening to his command of listening him. This might have been his time, but he was the reason why you and Sam were dead. "What the hell happened to you, Dean? Were you that selfish that you would rather had your brother die than go after him?" You questioned him as you circled around the table, slowly approaching him. "Would you rather track down the colt and see your only family perish?"

"I tried, Y/N. God knows I tried. But you wouldn't listen to me. You were so stubborn headed. You put yourself out there—You made that decision, you wrote your own fate." Dean argued with you, his finger pointing at you while it held his glass. You watched as he stared at you, and for the first time, you could see the real Dean slowly creep through. "And for the past five years, it’s killed me knowing what I’ve done. I’ve have gone through every single way I could have stopped from losing you and Sammy. But I can't go back. This was the only thing that’s kept me sane all these years.”

You found yourself slowly losing the frustrated glare you were giving him after you started seeing a softer side to him. You looked away when you realized what was happening. He loomed over you, taking the chance to examine the features he hadn't seen in five years. Before he could stop himself, you felt him reach out a hand, softly cupping your chin in his grip. Your eyes darted over to him as he turned your head to his direction. From the way he was looking at you, your heartbeat began to pound harder against your ribcage. It didn't help when you felt his thumb lightly brush against your lips, he sank his teeth into his bottom lip after feeling them again after so many years of being apart.

"What about Jane and Risa?" You found yourself quietly asking. Without much of a thought, you were leaning forward, wanting to do exactly what crossed his mind since he first laid eyes on you last night. "Aren't they your little girlfriends now?"

“I tried, but sweetheart, nobody could replace you, trust me.” Dean admitted as his lips stretched into a smirk. "Not even Risa."

Before either one of you could realize what was happening, you felt Dean softly place his lips on yours, making your eyelids slowly flutter shut. Dean let go of the glass, quickly shoving it back to the table, not caring when he heard the whiskey spill all over the table, for his hands were preoccupied by snatching you by the hips, possessively pulling you close to his body as he deepened the kiss. You didn't seem to process that you were kissing a different version of the man you loved. Someone who was seven years older than you, and had spent that time apart from yo. For a second you wondered if this was even considered cheating. But Dean didn't care, for he had five years to make up for lost time, and a few hours of treating you like a dick. All you knew was that he wasn't going to let go of you from how he was pulling you closer to his body, wanting to enjoy this moment before it was gone.

37 notes · View notes

stargleeksil-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Criminal Minds s05e04 “Hopeless” review - or more aptly named, Sick Unsubs, Sick Reviewer, Lewd Comments, Apology in Advance....

Episode 04 – Hopeless

Hey everybody! So today is going to be about getting these things out like tic-tacs. Let’s hope I can live up to my own expectations.

Let’s see what happens.

Okay, movie night with the homies. Cool.

Oh dear lord, they’re getting off on watching themselves murder people? What kind of sick fuckers are those?

“Let me guess. Don’t get comfortable.”

Oh boy.

There’s been a series of home invasions in southeast DC. Yikes.

“Plus there’s a lot of anger out there. That neighborhood’s mostly black working-class.”

“Now it’s being gentrified while the people who live there are having a tough time.”

Oh dear.

This is going to be hard.

Kingman Brewster Jr.: “There is no lasting hope in violence, only temporary relief from hopelessness.”

Now that is depressing, especially when I have to listen to my baby reading it out.

It’s rough on me seeing my baby horrified.

Yup. More than one unsub, smart poodle.

“If it is the same unsubs, we’re looking at a group of three, maybe four.”

“These aren’t kids. They’re too efficient.”

Gross.

“I don’t know.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I can understand vandalism escalating into violence, but that’s usually gradual.”

“An assault, a single murder maybe …”

“But come on, this?”

“This feels fully evolved.”

Oh god, it’s heartbreaking to see how horrified my baby is.

“The vandalism targets were all symbols of the neighborhood’s changing makeup and economy.”

“Maybe there’s something specific about these victims that set the unsubs off.”

God, it’s horrifying that they have to get inside their heads like that.

“If they dare tweet, I shall flush them out like a bird dog, sir.”

didn’t get it, but I love you nonetheless, baby.

“Most likely these unsubs don’t stand out because they’re probably local themselves.”

Okay, as an English major, I have to say that’s too much probability in one sentence, dearies. I don’t like it.

So those three are construction workers? Oh dear.

I’m once again jealous of glassware… well, a mug, but it still falls in the definition of cups.

So Hotch had Garcia narrow down suspects.

“And?”

“713 hits.”

Yikes.

Oh god, I can’t handle Morgan comforting a lady who isn’t baby girl. Sorry.

“I know that sounds like something people say, but … I truly am sorry.”

And he is! Don’t question him!

“You deal with cases like this all the time?” “Yes, I do.”

Unfortunately.

“So it’s routine for you.”

“There’s nothing routine about what you’re going through, Ms. Barnes.”

Damn right.

“Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“I have two sisters.”

Two gorgeous ladies, if I might add.

“What would you do if something like this happened to one of them?”

“I would do everything in my power to catch the people who did it.”

And beat the living crap on anyone who dare hurt them.

Personally, I’d do the same for my brother and sister, no one is allowed to hurt them. Ever.

What did that dude ever do to them?

Why smash his windows like you’re in a Jazmine Sullivan video?

Wait. Probably?

“You can’t tell for sure?”

I’m sorry, but what is my poodle doing with his finger? What’s going on over there?

Oh god, they mutilated them. Fuck.

Oh my poor baby.

“If this is supposed to be about symbolism, it’s not anymore.”

“This is a blue collar restaurant, the victim is a waitress.”

So the detective is a hothead who needs to be told by Hotch of all people, who is dealing with a bunch of crap, to cool down. Damn.

“You’ve got company.”

What?

Wait, why am I seeing this from behind the door? It looked like a plant at first. Bad placement of cameras, dudes.

Oh honey, her reaction of like ‘I don’t know’ so cute!!!!

He’s so polite about everything, but really he’s freaking out, like how the fuck am I supposed to handle this lady coming in to find out everything about the case? Shit.

I love how candid he is with her. Like, there’s no reason to lie to her, she’s already lost everything.

“This is about violence for violence’s sake.”

“It’s almost contagious. It’s twisted.”

Oh dear.

“These guys, they think of themselves as some type of gangsters, like society’s rules don’t apply to them.”

Yikes.

“They only feel alive when they’re creating fear and chaos.”

Damn.

Jealous baby girl.

I really don’t like this detective’s attitude, though I get why it’s so hard.

“Oh no.”

What?

“Sir, I’ve got something.”

Shit. They’re going to do a riot in DuPont circle. Shit.

Damn. This is serious. Fuck.

Wait. So it was an unrelated riot? Oh boy.

Wait. They apprehended kids? Oh dear.

So they’re not the unsubs.

“Because the unsubs we’re looking for are older. They operate entirely out of southeast DC.”

“They exercise extreme control over their victims, and violence is up close and personal.”

“None of what happened here last night fist that profile.”

God, that detective is so fed up with their profile, he just wants results to stop this madness. Poor thing. He doesn’t get my superheroes are amazing.

“I warned you.”

Shit. No, Aaron, what did we say about alienating the cops? Bad idea.

Oh shit, she’s so going ballistic right now. Damn.

Good puppy for keeping her at bay.

Wait, so he’s taking her outside for fresh air? Watch yourself, baby.

So they’re staying on the case even though they’ve been asked to step down? Oh boy. He’s gonna eat his badge for this.

“Where’s Morgan?”

“Uh, he’s with Ms. Barnes.”

“Huh.”

Heh.

Did he just address her by her first name? Uh oh.

“So how’s this gonna end?”

“What?”

Oh my god, I haven’t seen him eyeing a woman like that in a long time. You naughty thing.

“Do you think the unsubs know about the riot?”

Oh my innocent bunny.

“Front page news. I don’t know how they can’t.”

“And if the profile’s right?”

“Their reaction’s gonna be quick and it’s gonna be brutal.”

Yikes.

“Basically, it’s like knowing that lightning is gonna strike, but not being able to pinpoint where.”

Oh dear.

“Hey.”

What’s going on here?

“Can we have a talk?”

Ruh-roh.

“Yeah. What’s up?”

Oh my innocent puppy.

“Uh, first, I would like to say that I love you, (wait, what?) and I – I – the thing I love the most about you is how much you care about people …”

Oh my god, I love rambling Penelope, but what’s going on here?

“Garcia, what?”

Ha. Still clueless.

“What’s going on?”

“I think you need to cut contact with Tamara Barnes.”

Wait. What now?

How his eyes go to the side, like, what the fuck is going on? I love his acting!!!!

“I didn’t make contact with er. She was at the police station.”

Ha. Her ‘Yeah, right’ head tilt is the best!

“Yeah, okay, look me in the eye and tell me that the first break in this case you don’t run right to her and give her the news yourself.”

Wait, did she just say that?

“Penelope, she lost her brother. She just wants answers.”

Yeah, my puppy is innocent … cough, cough … like anyone with that face and those abs can be innocent, but whatever.

“I get it. I volunteer counseling these families. I know what she’s going through.”

“Then where is this coming from?”

Yeah, where?

“Okay, let’s just ignore the whole ethical dilemma, ‘cause that’s just too, too big.”

Wait. What?

“And if you were to testify on this case, the whole thing would unravel if anyone were to find out that you’re involved with a member of the victim’s family.”

Wait. WHAT?

“Whoa. Stop.”

“I love you, and I respect you. You know that.”

“But right now you’re way out of bounds.”

Damn straight.

“I’m not involved.”

Nope, you’re just an innocent puppy who stumbled into a pile of poo. *wink, wink*

Cuz I don’t believe that for one second.

“The team is here working on a case, and you’re with her. You’re involved.”

Hey!

“For your information, she lost it back at the station, so I drove her home. End of story.”

“But not for her.”

Well, if I were in Tamara’s shoes, I’d have jumped them bones. Trust me.

“Don’t tell me.”

More victims. Fuck.

Oh god, I feel like I’m gonna be sick.

They nailed the bartender’s hands to the bar. Fuck. I’m so gonna be sick.

“I’m getting real sick of us being right and it just not mattering.”

Wait. What? What are you talking about?

So they finally figured out their profession, about time.

“Wait a minute. Killing four people in that first home invasion … that never made sense to me.”

Why would it?

“Unsubs build to something like that.”

So what you’re saying is….

“What if this wasn’t their first murder?”

Oh god.

“The first two rounds of vandalism, they were typical.”

“Car windows smashed, restaurants with the plate glass broken.”

“But that last case, right before the home invasion, that was a random construction site.”

“A single-family townhouse.”

“Prentiss, you flagged it yourself.”

Damn.

My puppy is smart!

“May we?”

Oh god, I can’t handle hot people being linguistically polite.

And I also can’t handle hot people caressing things.

I can’t handle hot people unless they’re between my legs. Period.

“I need to open up this wall.”

I need you to open up me first.

Oh god, I’m turning filthy again, aren’t I? SORRY! I can’t handle this hot individual, fuck.

“Ma’am, I promise you, even if I have to do every bit of the work myself,”

At least promise me they’ll show it with him being shirtless.

“This wall will be repaired and it’ll go right back to being exactly what you want.”

The complete package? With you caressing it? Deal. XD oh god. SORRY AGAIN! I’m insufferable.

Oh that’s nasty. They hid a dead body inside of their nursery wall? Fuck.

“How did you know?”

Because my puppy is smart.

“The other crime scenes were brutal. But it also had control.”

“They took their time, that type of MO had to start before the home invasion.”

“The entire place was destroyed except this room. Why?”

“They took the time to rebuild the wall once they buried the contractor.”

Fuck.

“If they smashed this place up, he could have been discovered.”

Yup.

“It’s like a builders’ tradition.”

Yup. You leave something that will put your signature on your work. Ugh.

“I’m gonna call Garcia.”

Wait. So he’s not mad at her? Good.

“Hey, girl.”

“Hey. Are we good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

YAY

“What do you need?”

You. The two of you. Naked. In my bed.

Oh shit. I just write this without thinking, SORRY!

The three fuckers live together. Finally they’re onto them.

“Particulars coming to you … now.”

“Thanks, babe.”

No, thank you ;)

“Where are the others?”

You better answer him, fucker.

“You know what gets me?”

I’m trying real hard to be serious right now, sorry, I don’t know what came over me.

“See, we figured you were down and out, pissed off. But you’re out here working.”

“What is so god-awful about your life that you gotta take it out on the rest of the world?”

“It was fun, boss.”

Blargh. I want to hurl.

Wait. Hotch is walking away?

“Is he just gonna walk away?”

See! See! We were meant to be together … okay fine, he’s a fictional character, but whatever.

“Looks like it.”

“Just when I thought he was back on top of his game.”

“You got at least two dozen cops, all looking for revenge. You got to psychopaths inside, ready to play out their fantasy end.”

Yikers.

“You wanna take your shot, take it. Our job is done.”

He’s so by the book, ugh.

William Shakespeare: “These violent delights have violent ends.”

Yikes.

So they’re toasting the end of the job even though they haven’t done anything? I don’t like this.

Ruh-roh, where is hot stuff?

Who is Derek visiting?

Oh god. Don’t tell me baby girl was right.

Fuck.

“I just wanted to come by and let you know that it was over. We got ‘em.”

Wait. So they don’t even show us if they fool around? Come on! What kind of show is this? *throws keyboard aggressively at screen*

Damn it.

Okay, so the first thing I have to say is, SORRY! I have no fucking idea what came over me, I guess that I was watching the new Shemar interview on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert and I got hot watching those abs, and I just lost it on this review. So I apologize for my crude thoughts ... if the offended someone... I mean, I have no fucking idea where that came from ... overall, loved this episode, but I really would have liked Derek to pull his head out of his ass and just kiss baby girl already. It’s not fair.

Also, Aaron Hotchner is LOSING IT!! What’s going on here?

Can’t wait for the next one.

0 notes

huntertales · 8 years ago

Text

Part Three: Keep Your Friends Close and Your Enemies Closer. (The End S05E04)

Useful Links: Last Part | All Episodes Word Count: 5,065. A/N: Surprisingly this isn't long as the others, but it's just as good! I've been having sooo much writing this episode. I really hope you guys enjoy this. The last part should be out soon!

"So, that's it? That's the colt?"

The weapon hunters used to tell their children at night, the gun rumored to kill anything put in the path of a speeding bullet, was displayed in the middle of the table for the small group of five to examine underneath the florescent light. You leaned yourself against the backside of the cabin and kept your knees against Dean’s legs, your eyes focused on his older self. You watched as he placed both palms against the wooden table and leaned over the gun, as if he were protecting it. Cas strolled around the room, grabbing the bottle of whiskey you had shared with the other Dean and poured himself a cup. He headed over to the table, passing by Risa, who quietly lurked forward, she was all too quiet tonight for the meeting Dean called. Cas dropped himself into a free chair and kicked up his feet, he poured himself a drink, only practicing in the conversation with nods. But you had a feeling he didn't know what was going on.

Dean cranked his neck upwards to look at the woman so he could he answer her suspicious questions. "If anything can kill Lucifer, this is it."

"Great." Risa replied, her tone was short. You looked away as you tried your hardest not to snicker from her behavior that you knew all too well as a woman. "Have we got anything that can find Lucifer?"

"Are you okay?" Dean asked, not having a single clue what she was pissed about.

"Oh, you were in, uh, who was it—Jane's cabin last night? And, apparently, you and Risa have a 'connection.'" You spoke up for her, even adding the air quotes around the final word as she had done this morning. The reason she was still pissed off at him was because she caught you making out, destroying yet another fragile hope for anything in this wasteland of a life. “I see monogamy still isn't your strong point."

Dean, the one sitting next to you, couldn't help himself chuckle at the messy situation he could only see happen. But it was nice to have an outside experience, and not to be the one holding a bruised cheek. Risa crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the Dean from her present, Cas just shook his head, laughing quietly into his drink. "You want to shut up, Y/N?" Dean asked you with a stern voice. You played along with the little game, you threw your hands up in defeat and fell silent, allowing him to continue on. "We don't have to find Lucifer. We know where he is. The demon that we caught last week—she was one of the...big guy's entourage. Lucifer's right hand woman. She knew."

"So, a demon tells you where Satan's gonna be, and you just believe it?" Risa asked, continuing to show her doubt for this plan. She might have been part of this small circle of people Dean trusted in the future, but she sure showed a lot of suspicion, not seeming trust an answer from a demon she was never allowed to interrogate herself, or for that matter, even see besides the man himself.

"Oh, trust me—she wasn't lying." Dean said. You noticed that he actually felt proud of himself for what he could admit to the group. "She was singing like a canary when I got done with her."

Risa couldn't help help herself but press for one more question, "And you know this how?"

"Our fearless leader, I'm afraid," Cas peered down into his metal cup that was once filled with at least at least a mouthful of whiskey, now it remained empty. He grabbed the bottle, pouring himself yet another sizeable drink. "Is all too well schooled in the art of getting the truth."

"Torture?" You found yourself presuming. You quickly looked over at the Dean sitting next to you, the both of you shared a look of surprise from what was being brought up. Dean had swore to you he would never do anything like that again, not after a failed attempt with that nasty demon Alastair. You slowly looked over at the Winchester of this time period, suddenly you were finding the conversation you had with him nothing more than a bunch of lies. You made him look away from the colt he was examining and to your furious expression. "Oh, so, you're torturing again. No, that's—that's good. Classy, even. I'm sure it brings backs a lot of good and warm memories."

Dean wasn't too happy about the change of tone you were giving him, putting the both of you a few steps back, and it wasn't helping when Cas began laughing in amusement from your sarcasm, but Dean didn't seem to approve from the sour look on his face. "What?" Cas asked, not seeming the harm in his honest reaction. He quietly lowered himself to a few more chuckles before stopping all together. "I missed Y/N. She always had spunk, and a hell of a mouth."

"Lucifer is here." Dean ignored the comment, he cleared his throat and placed out a map. You took a few steps forward and noticed a circle in red marker, Dean tapped his index finger against the mark. Everyone seemed to have ignored the conversation that happened not even a few seconds seconds ago, but the younger Winchester seemed to find it hard to focus on the more important task at hand, for there was a little detail he couldn't stop thinking about. "Now, I know the block and I know the building.”

"Oh, good," Cas kicked his feet back to the floor and leaned forward to examine the map. When he realized where he location was, he wasn’t exactly pleased. "It's right in the middle of a hot zone."

"Crawling with crotes, yeah." Dean finished the man's thought, knowing well enough the danger he was putting himself into. "Are you saying my plan is reckless?"

"Are you saying we, uh, walk straight up the driveway past all the demons and the crotes, and we shoo the the devil?" Cas implied, the Dean in charge answered with a yes. "Okay, if you don't like, uh, 'reckless,' I could use 'insouciant,' maybe."

“Are you coming?” Dean asked, not wasting time beating around the bush.

“Of course. But why is he?" Cas asked. He nodded his head back to the young man standing at your side, the version of Dean that was the most vulnerable person of screwing up time if nobody was safe. "I mean, he's you five years ago. If something happens to him, you're gone, right?"

"He's coming." Dean, the future version of himself, decided that before the other one could protest.

"Okay." Cas agreed, knowing from the tone of voice, it was better to sneak away before an argument could break out. He looked over at the younger Dean, he nodded his head for the door, deciding it would be best if everyone got ready for this big fight that would be happening in mere hours. "Well, uh, I'll get the grunts moving."

"We're loaded and on the road by midnight." Dean instructed to his people. He watched as his people listened to the command without a single word of protest. While he was about to get himself ready for the big show off, he pointed a finger at his younger self before his thumb signaled for the door. "Why don't you make yourself useful for once and help them load stuff up? We need all hands on deck.”

Dean seemed skeptical at first from the thought of leaving you alone with his older self after how he so carelessly treated you before. He didn't know about the kiss and make up part you and his doppelgänger had done, you looked over at the younger man and gave him a reassuring smile to let him know you were fine. He looked away from you and gave himself a quick glance over, all before he was stepping outside to find out where Cas was. You heard the door slam shut, leaving you and his older version of himself alone again. The room fell silent as you crossed your arms over your chest, silently watching as Dean began folding the map back up and snatching the colt from the table so he could put it back until later tonight.

“Why are you bringing us?” You asked, curious to find out the real answer he didn't tell anyone.

“Relax. The both of you will be fine.” Dean said, he brushed off your concern. “I’m sure Zach is looking out for him.”

“That's not what I meant.” You said. Your voice grew harder as you stepped forward to him until you were standing in front of the table so you were directly across from him. “Don't lie to me. I want to know what's going on.”

Dean didn't seem to throw a protest, he let the bag he was holding drop to the table with a quiet thud and began walking forward to you. “You're coming because I want you to see something.” His reason made you look at him, wondering what it was. “I want the both of you to see Sam.”

You furrowed your brow when you heard his real answer, knowing it didn't match what he had said about the man when you asked about him. “Sam? I thought he was dead.”

“Sam didn't diein Detroit. He said ‘yes.’” Dean said the three words, and from the expression starting to settle on your face, he didn't need to say those words about him saying yes to the Devil. He knew the bitter truth you had been hiding to him all along in hopes you could stop it, but it seemed you were too late. Lucifer was wearing Sam to the prom like a cheap suit. “You know what the funny thing was? Sam told me about him being Lucifer’s vessel. It was the last conversation I had with him. I pushed him away thinking it was for the best. But...look at what happened.”

You found yourself leaning against the table and balanced as you stared off into the distance. “ I...I don't understand.” You mumbled, shock kept little words coming out from your mouth. You blinked and looked up at Dean, “Why would he do that?”

“He made a deal with the Devil.” Dean admitted with a bitter tone. He began taking steps closer to you as he crawled closer to the truth. You looked at him, wanting to know what he meant by that. “It was you or him, Lucifer wanted his vessel. And he didn't get that, you were the next best thing that he could play with to get his answer. I tried hiding you for long as I could. You ran off, thinking you could solve this yourself. but...I was too late. Lucifer got the both of you right here wanted.” You didn't get the chance to ask him what he hinted around, he continued on speaking. “But that's gonna change after I get my hands on him. We gotta kill him, Y/N. That's why I want you to come.”

"What?" You found yourself looking at him with a distressed look from what he was asking of you.

"We don't have a choice. It's in him, and it's not getting out. And we've got to kill him, Y/N." Dean told you without missing a beat, his tone was calm and effective. He had five years to get himself mentally settled with this plan, you suddenly wished you were back in your own time again, away from everything that was happening faster than you could process. "And you need to see it—the whole damn thing, how bad it gets—so you can make me do it differently."

You furrowed your brow tightly as you could, "What do you mean?"

"Zach said he was gonna bring you and Dean back to '09, right?" Dean asked you. You looked at him with a skeptical look, but you nodded your head slowly. He took one more step until he was directly next to you, wanting you to look at him directly in the eye from what he was about to say next. He wanted you to know how dead serious he was about this. "Well, when you get back home...you make me say 'yes.' You hear me, Y/N? Make me say 'yes' to Michael."

"Are you crazy?" You respond the way he knew you were going to. You stare at him, at first, with a baffled expression, but the realization of what might happen quickly settled in, that's when you lash out at him. "If you let him in, then Michael fights the Devil. The battle's gonna destroy half the planet."

"Look around you, sweetheart. Half the planet's better than no planet. Which is what we have now." Dean argued with you. "If I could do it over again, I'd say 'yes' in a heartbeat."

"Then why haven't you?" You questioned him.

“I’ve tried! I've shouted 'yes' until I was blue in the face! The angels aren't listening! They just...left—gave up! It's too late for me," Dean admitted to you. You shook your head, silently disagreeing with what he was trying to make you do as you looked away from him. "But for you—”

"Oh, no." You muttered, a bitter chuckle came out from your mouth. You didn't want to be apart of this fight, you already had enough on your mind. “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. Y/N," Dean was pleading with you from the tone of his voice, but you wouldn't look at him. He couldn't help himself when he reached out his arms, you felt his calloused and rough skin, sort of like his new personality from the past five years of lonely bitterness, touch your cheeks when his hands cupped your face. You found yourself staring directly into his green eyes, the ones that no matter how many years passed by had passed, still looked the same. Except for this time. You noticed he was looking at you with a desperate expression, pain was clear in his eyes, you couldn't look away, no matter how hard you wanted you. "I was wrong. And I'm begging you. Make me say 'yes.'"

"Why aren't you trying to persuade him?" You asked him, your voice coming out more of a whisper.

"I know myself. He won't do it. 'Cause I didn't do it. Because that's just not us." Dean admitted the honest truth to you. No matter who told him to do the right thing, angels or even himself, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing what they wanted. "I don't trust myself. Not like I trust you, Y/N. That's why I'm telling you.”

You looked at him straight in the eye with a sorrowful expression, "I can't."

"I love you, Y/N. I always will." Dean reminded you. “You have to change your own fate, too."

You were caught off guard from what he said, but before you could ask him, you were quieted down when you felt his lips softly press against yours again. You shared yet another kiss, but this time, it didn't feel passionate and full of life. It felt like a soldier kissing his lover goodbye, putting all he had, for there was a chance of never seeing her again. You felt his hands slowly weave into your hair, but before either one of you could deepen the kiss, you were caught off guard by the sound of the squeaking hinges coming from the door.

You quickly pulled away from Dean to see him standing in the doorway, a surprised look on his face at what he saw. You could feel your heartbeat suddenly stop when you realized what Dean, your real Dean—the one who told you how he fell in love with you—had accidentally interrupted. At first he didn't think much of it, but slowly, you could see the anger slowly creep into his expression, and before you could explain, the cabin door slammed shut, and his figure was swallowed by the night's darkness.

+ + +

All of you were ready to hit the road just a few minutes after midnight. Dean #1 was riding with Risa in her truck, as the other was finishing up loading his jeep as Cas declared you his partner for the six hour drive. You tried your hardest to talk to Dean about what he saw, but he kept pushing you away, wanting to focus on the task at hand. You luckily found a distraction for yourself when Chuck came up to you with a rather stunned expression, and through his routine check while following all of you outside, he confronted the news of seeing you alive in the flesh again.

"So, you and Dean are really from '09?" Chuck asked you as the both of you walked in the darkness to Cas' car. You nodded your head. "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."

"Thanks, Chuck." You muttered, your lips stretching into a faint smile.

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

"I'll see you around." You said to him, stopping at the passenger side door of the truck.

Chuck waved you goodbye, you gave him one last smile before you opened up the door to the trunk and pulling yourself inside. You slammed it shut and adjusted yourself in your seat, getting comfortable for the long journey you had for you. Swallowing ever so quietly, you looked straight ahead when you felt Cas get into the driver's side, trying to wrap your mind around everything that was happening at once. But one thing kept coming back, and it was a question; which situation was worse? Killing Sam after he became possessed by the Devil? Or persuading Dean to say yes to the becoming the vessel for Michael?

+ + +

The first hour of the drive was silent, you mostly stared off into space, keeping the lack of conversation as a way to ignore any awkward small talk between you and this new version of Cas. You looked away from the window when you heard something rattling coming from your right side. You glanced over at Cas to see that he grabbed something from the glove compartment, but from the darkness, you couldn't see what it exactly was. He left one hand on the wheel as he popped off the top of something that looked like a pill bottle. You raised your brows when watched him rattle out about two pills before popping them into his mouth. Without even a drink, he swallowed the pills and put the lid back on. You reached out your arm and waved for him to hand them over.

"You want some?" Cas offered.

You lifted up the pill bottle to see that it was a prescription that was made out for someone that wasn't him. You let out a quiet whistle when you read the name of the pill, knowing this was pretty strong stuff. "Amphetamines, huh?"

"It's the perfect antidote to that absinthe." Cas said, his attitude was all too casual.

"Don't get me wrong, Cas, While I'm happy the stick is out of your ass, I'm honestly starting to miss the old you. What's going on—with the drugs and the orgies and all the love-guru crap? Last time you were around a woman and a beer, you freaked out." You found yourself admitting to him what you missed. It'd been only two days, but you wanted everything back to normal. Cas responded with a laugh as he looked over at you with a toothy smile, acting as if what you had said was the best thing he'd ever heard. "What's so funny?"

"Y/N, I'm not an angel anymore. I went mortal." Cas said, you looked at him with surprise at what you were hearing. You asked him how it happened. "I think it had to do something with the other angels leaving, but when they bailed, my mojo just kind of...shhrr!—Drained away. And now, you know, I'm practically human. I mean, Y/N, I'm all but useless. Last year, broke my foot—laid up for two months."

"So, you're human--ish." You said. "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? It's the end, baby. That's what decadence is for. Why not bang a few gongs before the light goes out?" Cas said, giving you another perspective of his woes from how he was living his life. It seemed that he forgotten about his once shy personality. He was happy, and high as hell. "But then, that's how I roll.”

+ + +

Dawn was beginning to settle into the horizon when you traveled down into the ruins of another town, destroyed with no trace of another human in sight from the other handfuls you arrived with. Dean quietly walked down the muddy roads with you as his older doppelganger traveled first into the pack. You had a bad feeling about this plan since you got out of the truck. It wasn't the idea of harming Sam, because when this was done, the reset button would be pressed and all of you were back at home, as if nothing happened. All of you traveled on foot for about an hour before Dean pointed out some tall building, that was the place where the Devil would be hiding. You crouched behind an abandoned car and peered over the hood, wanting to take a look yourself at the building after Dean examined what he could with a pair of binoculars.

"There. Second floor window. We go in there. They'll never see us coming." Dean instructed to his people. He handed the binoculars to Cas, but Risa didn't seem so confident in the plan, and he could tell from the look on her face. "Trust me. Now, weapons check. We're on the move in five."

"Hey, uh...Dean." You quietly got his attention by waving your arm, he looked over at you, wondering what could be so important to discuss at a time like this. You couldn't do this anymore. You looked over at the man crouched next to you. "Can I talk to you for a second?" It wasn't exactly what he wanted, and the other Dean didn’t seem satisfied as he watched you walk away. But you quickly made your way to a safe distance away from the crowd, and away from any possible detection of danger. “You're lying to these people, and most importantly, to me.”

Dean gave you a look, “Is that so?”

“Yeah. I know your lying expressions. I've seen then too many times to count." You said. "You've been dropping hints these past few days. And you lied about Sam. There's something you're not telling me.”

"I don't know what you're talking about." Dean denied what you were accusing him of.

"Oh, really? Well, I don't seem to tbe only member of your posse with some questions, so, uh, maybe I'll just take my doubt over to them. Or...I could tell him about what you told me, about how Sam really isn't dead." You said. You looked over to see that Dean was standing across the way, you knew he was going to come and find out what was going on. You weren't going to lie to him, he didn't deserve it. Dean knew his little brother was the vessel to Lucifer. He just didn't know one small detail. "Sam said yes. We'll be walking into one screwed up family reunion. And while we're on the subject, you've been dropping hints these past few days. There's something else you're not telling us."

"Take look around you, guys. This place should be white-hot with crotes. Where are they?" Dean asked the both of you. You fell silent, they knew you were coming. "It's a trap."

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

"Oh, we're not. They are. They're the decoys." Dean said, he nodded his head to the group of that was patiently waiting for his cue. You found yourself staring at him with shock from every single word that was coming out of his mouth. "You, me and him—we're going through the back."

"You mean you're gonna feed your friends into a meat grinder? Cas, too? You want to use their deaths as diversion?" Dean confronted himself, seeming to have had enough of hearing things that would never come from him. You looked over to see the younger man walk forward, having had enough of this. The torture was enough to slightly stomach, but this, it was his final breaking point of keeping quiet. "Oh, man, something's broken in you. You're making decisions that I would never make. I wouldn't sacrifice my friends."

"You're right. Something did break in. Guess that's what happens when your brother turns into the Devil and the woman you love becomes a friggin' demon. I didn't have any other options. I'm supposed to kill the Devil, save the world. And that's exactly what I'm gonna do." Dean, the older version, had suddenly changed out of the man he presented himself to still be. You slowly looked down to see the colt he'd been carrying in the back of his jeans was pointed at you. "After all, you're the reason why we're in this mess. See, I learned a few more interesting things while I was torturing that demon. She confessed something—if I shot you, I kill him. Vice versa."

“You...You—”

"You trying to say I'm a monster? Yeah, I am. All of us are, sweetheart. You, me, Sam. That's one of the consequences when I said no to Michael. I'm doing things the old me would never do." Dean remarked with a bitter smirk on his lips. He looked over at his younger self, he moved his finger to lightly press on the trigger. "What do you want, Dean? If you let those people die—you're a villain. But, if you let me just kill Y/N, you'll be the hero. The monster's ganked and you’ll never had to say yes to Michael.”

"You're one screwed up son of a bitch, that's what you are." Dean hissed at himself, finding his actions coming from the man disturbing. "You're not gonna save the world like this. I'm not gonna let you."

"Oh, really?" He replied, almost slightly amused at his younger self. "You wish."

+ + +

The last thing Dean could remember was a painful force to his jaw before everything went black. He slowly found himself coming back into consciousness and to what was going on around him. It took him a second to realize he was lying face down on the ground, his face buried in small pile of dead leaves that smelled faintly of wet grass. Dean slowly began to move himself to a standing position, ignoring the familiar ache in his jaw as he pushed himself to his feet. He began wiping the dirt from his hands and looked around, wondering for a second of where everyone one. But it took the split second of listening to gunfire in the distance for everything to come rushing back to him.

Dean looked high and low to see if he could find you, but there wasn't a trace of anyone, not even a droplet of blood to confirm his biggest fear. He headed for the building and looked straight ahead, from his spot on the pavement, he watched as the second story window glowed from the shots everyone was doing just to stay alive. He had a feeling if you were around, you weren't there. Dean looked around until he found the back entrance his other self had talked about going. He noticed a fresh trail of boot imprints into the dirt, he followed them, running fast as he could until the path went cold.

What he had arrived to was a garden, from the way it was upkept, everything around it was dead from the plants shriveled up leaves and patchy grass. Dean slowed himself to a brisk walk, his eyes darting everywhere to find out where you could have ended up, only to see that you were right in front of him. He just didn't know it yet. The body standing in front of him was exactly like the one you had; it was the same height, same weight. But his attention found itself slowly dwindling away, for he was caught off guard to see the fate of himself, lying on the ground. Dean stared at himself straight in the eye, and with a high heel to his throat, it moved just enough until a bone crack echoed through the air, breaking his neck clean.

It was silent for a moment. Dean heard his breathing turn into shallow breaths as the person retracted their foot, and ever so slowly, looked over their shoulder to see who it was. And Dean realized the person was you. But...it wasn't you

You stared at him with a rather surprised look, yet you seemed casual. You were wearing a pretty black dress and paired with a set of black heels that gave you a few inches. What he couldn't stop staring at wasn't your eyes, all though they were black as night, that wasn't what caught him off guard. It was the skin on your body. He noticed it was covered with scars; from bruises and cut marks, burns and other things that looked like it would hurt. Dean slowly began to realize this wasn't you, it was your future. You were the demon that his future self tortured for answers. But you didn't seem to hold a grudge at him, you stared at him with a smile as your eyes flickered back to normal, as if you were pleased to see him.

"Oh." You spoke up, your eyes turning black again. "Hello, Dean."

29 notes · View notes