BREAKS LOOSE OR BOUND

...ghost town...demons...friends...blood...death...yellow eyes...pain in my back...Sam...fading...black silence...

Dean cried out, his long limbs flailing as he went from sleep to full awakeness in one second flat. He sat up, his pounding head forcing a groan from his throat.

A vision, then,he thought, swaying as he stood.

Weaving to the bathroom like a drunk, Dean gripped the doorframe briefly before wading in.

As he splashed water on his face, he raised his eyes to the mirror. His eyes closed and he swallowed deeply before he opened his eyes again, forcing himself to study his reflection.

His brother's face - down to the slightly upturned nose, mole on the cheek, cleft in the chin, hazel eyes and still-too-long-for-his-tastes hair - looked back at him.

"It's been two weeks, now," Dean sighed aloud. "When am I gonna get used to this?"

"I'm having the same trouble." Dean turned to find Sam leaning against the doorframe, smiling slightly. "I look in the mirror and automatically wonder why Dean is looking back at me."

Dean chuckled at that. Then he looked closer and felt himself smile.

Sam was dressed in jeans and a soft-looking shirt with the sleeves rolled up. "You're in your own clothes."

"Yeah. Figured it was time. Found a store that has everything I like in a slightly smaller size. I'm gonna replace things - like this." He held out a bundle to Dean.

Dean opened it and gasped as he shook out a black leather jacket. He turned it over in his hands and found it to be the size he now wore. He looked at Sam, struck dumb.

Sam grinned and spread his hands. "Figured that would feel better on your shoulders."

"Keep...Keep the smaller one," Dean cleared his throat. "I want you to have it."

Nodding, Sam clasped his shoulder and turned to go.

"Sam - I had a vision."

He turned back. "What was it?"

"The ghost town again. Seemed to progress, though. I got stabbed in the back."

Sam's green eyes flared with anger. "Who?"

"Dunno. Never saw him before."

"Hm," Sam replied, leaning against the frame. "If you can find him..."

"Hey, Sammy?"

Sam looked up. "Yeah?"

Dean chuckled. "Get outta here so I can shower, huh?"

"Oh!" Sam laughed. "Sure, no problem! I'll go see about breakfast."

Dean just grinned and closed the bathroom door between them.

SPN MILEAGE SPN MILEAGE SPN

"So," Dean said as he came out of the bedroom a few minutes later and made himself a sandwich. "I think I saw the name of this ghost town this last time."

"Yeah?" Bobby asked, setting a glass of milk in front of Dean like he was a little boy again and ignoring both the glare Dean gave him and the chuckle from Sam. "What was it?"

"'Cold' and some kind of tree," Dean said, pointedly ignoring the milk and getting up to get himself a beer. "It was on a building's sign. The word 'Cold' and a drawing of a tree."

"There can't be that many towns about with the name 'Cold' and some kind of a tree," Sam mused. "Especially not ghost towns."

"I'll start looking after he's done with breakfast," Bobby said. "Never mind I made him bacon and eggs..."

Dean perked up. "You did? Where?"

"Keepin' warm in the oven." Bobby shook his head as Dean made a bee-line for the oven. "Thought the visions stole your appetite."

"They did," Sam said. "Don't seem to affect his, though."

"That's a hundred percent Dean, all right," Bobby snorted. "A stomach on legs."

"What?" Dean said around a mouthful of eggs as he shoveled the rest onto a plate. "I'm hungry!"

"Yeah," Sam grinned. "A hundred percent Dean. Appetite already huge, adjusting to a larger frame to fill."

"Hell of a way to get a growth spurt," Bobby mused.

"If you two are gonna insult me, I'm gonna go eat in the Impala!" Dean declared. It would have been less amusing if he'd waited till he'd swallowed his bacon to snarl it out.

Dean sighed as they both laughed, and he went to the porch to finish eating.

"What was that with the milk, Bobby?" Sam asked, visibly confused.

Bobby smirked at him. "What? You think you're the only one who can yank your brother's chain?"

And Sam raised his beer bottle in mute salute.

SPN MILEAGE SPN MILEAGE SPN

Dean didn't come back in after breakfast. Neither of them thought much of it until it was lunchtime - and Dean didn't come back.

He didn't answer their calls, either - verbally or by their phones. When they went to find him, they found the remnants of his breakfast strewn on the ground.

Bobby shot a look over at Sam. The younger man's jaw was clenching and unclenching as he stared at the mess. His fists were tightly clenched, and his wide green eyes were narrowing and blazing with rage and fear.

"Sam..."

Without a word, Sam spun on his heel and strode back to the house. Bobby followed, prepared for anything.

He found Sam sitting at a laptop, firing it up. While he waited for it to connect, Sam got up and grabbed the leather jacket he'd arrived wearing off the back of a chair, shrugging into it.

In that jacket, checking his guns, wearing such a steely look of determination - Bobby, for the first time that day, had to remind himself that was Sam Winchester looking out of those eyes, and not Dean.

"Ghost town," Sam murmured, typing. "His visions said he was in a ghost town...with the first word being 'Cold'..."

Bobby busied himself with prepping more guns while Sam worked his magic on the internet. He also put a sandwich down where Sam could reach it.

An hour later, the sandwich was long gone and Sam had several potentials. He turned to Bobby, his mouth opening - when pain lanced behind his eyes.

Sam hissed, both hands flying to his temples. His eyes closed and the pain danced to the top of his head and down his neck.

Behind the closed lids, images formed. ...an old time dinner bell...COLD OAK...the psychic children they had met...more of them...Yellow-Eyes..."fight to the death"..."last one standing"...two words scratched into the dirt 'HURRY SAMMY'..."

Abruptly, the images went black. Sam shuddered and opened his eyes.

"You okay?" Bobby asked. At Sam's nod, he asked, "What the hell was that?"

"A vision," Sam gasped out. "It...It was a vision."

"A vision?" Bobby frowned. "You're sure?"

Sam shot him an 'Are-you-kidding-me?' look. "Bobby, I do know what a vision feels like."

Bobby felt his cheeks heat up even as he countered, "But you don't have visions anymore."

"No, I don't. But Dean does." Sam was back at the computer. "Somehow, he found a way to tell me what's going on."

"So? What is goin' on?"

Sam met Bobby's eyes over the lid of the laptop. "What he's been seeing for the last two weeks - it's coming true. He's at the ghost town. Several other psychic kids are there - and it's a contest to the death. Yellow-Eyes is there, and he's making them fight each other till only one's standing. He told me to hurry."

Bobby cursed, running a hand down his beard. "Anything else?"

"Yeah - he showed me where he is. The town's called Cold Oak." He clicked a few keys. "So all we've gotta do is find it - there." He grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the coordinates.

Bobby pulled out a map while Sam shut down the laptop. "Found it - it's an all night drive."

Sam nodded. "Then let's get started."

SPN MILEAGE SPN MILEAGE SPN

Neither of them got any sleep that long night. Sam's eyes blazed jade fire, his knuckles white as they gripped the Impala's wheel and his feet edged the pedal down, down, down - making the huge car break a few speed records tearing across the miles separating the brothers.

All through the hours, Bobby was a calming presence at his side. In his dual role of navigator, he kept Sam going on course. And his occasional, "Slow it down, ya idjit, you wanna make us get there later cause we're dealin' with a ticket?" kept them out of speed traps.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Impala pulled up at Cold Oaks just as the sun broke over the horizon.

The first sight that greeted their eyes was a lifeless female body hanging from the water tower.

"Friendly place," Bobby ground out.

A quick search of the houses nearby turned up the body of their friend Andy, ripped apart by something clearly inhuman. Nearby lay Ava, her head at an unnatural angle.

Sam's head rose. "Bobby," he said softly, the gun making a soft sighing noise as it passed from his belt into his hand. "Fighting."

"I don't hear-" Sam turned and gave him a Look, and he remembered that Dean's body had better hearing and reflexes than Sam's original one had. "...point taken."

Outside, they saw Dean in an intense hand-to-hand with a soldier. They appeared to have arrived just in time, as Dean knocked him down and out, then stepped back, running the back of his hand over his mouth.

Seeing them, he smiled and stepped over the man to head their way. "Bout time you two got here."

Sam's eyes widened as he saw movement. That was all the warning Dean got.

But it was enough. An uninterrupted lifetime of hunting instincts kicked in and Dean spun.

The soldier was up and slashing. Dean turned just in time - if he hadn't moved, the soldier's super-strength would probably have propelled the blade directly into his spinal cord.

As it was, he still got a good lick in. Dean felt fire skate across his lower back and onto his right side as the knife left a shallow gash. But he used the momentum of his spin to knock the knife away from his body. "What the hell, man?" he demanded.

"Only one, he said," the soldier said, swinging the makeshift knife and causing Dean's body to arch nearly into a perfect C to avoid it. If it hadn't been so serious, watching six-feet-four of solid muscle contort like a dancer to avoid the swipe would have been rather comical. "I want to live!" he snarled, swinging at Dean again. "I have to live, Sam!"

Sam stiffened, eyes narrowing as he realised Dean had pretended to BE who his body screamed he was, because of Andy and Ava. He nodded and took a step forward, even as Dean yelped, "But this isn't the way to do it!"

"It'll keep me alive," the soldier said. "I'm sorry." And he swept Dean off his feet and angled the makeshift knife for a killing blow. "I truly am sorry, Sam."

"So am I," Sam said, bringing up his gun and firing it in one swift motion that caused Bobby to gasp and stare wide-eyed at him.

The soldier jerked, his eyes going huge even as they darkened, the light of intelligence going out of them as a third eye bloomed red on his forehead. The makeshift knife clattered harmlessly to the dirt, and he teetered to the side, falling bonelessly to the ground.

The sound of applause hit their ears as Sam pulled Dean to his feet. The Yellow-Eyed Demon seemed to step out of the shadows, clapping his hands. "Exactly the way I hoped it would play out. Sam Winchester, the winner."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "What do you want with me?" he snarled, playing the Sam-role to the hilt.

"I want you to do me a favour. Just one. Then, down the road, you will take your rightful place beside my side as the boy-king of hell. But that's far down."

"What?" Dean roared. "Why in the hell would I do that?"

The Yellow-Eyed Demon laughed. "It's been encoded into your very DNA - since that night I poured my own blood into your mouth!"

Sam and Dean exchanged looks, and Bobby just looked horrified. But they needed information and they needed it now. "The night you killed Mom," Sam growled, and the Yellow-Eyed Demon spread his hands.

"She interrupted us," he said.

"But why Jessica?" Dean asked. "Why did you kill Jessica, too?"

"She was holding you back, Sammy-boy!" the demon laughed. "Playing house with you, making a 'life' for yourself. You have a destiny, and she was in the way!" His eyes turned to Sam and Bobby. "And now they are holding you back. No matter, once our business is concluded, they will no longer be a threat."

"What business?" Dean asked, and was surprised to see a gun held out to him.

"The Colt?" Bobby yelped. "A gun that can kill anything!"

Dean grabbed it, cocked it, and pointed it at the Yellow-Eyed Demon's forehead.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, with a oily grin. "Shoot me, and my dying gasp will unlock the blood that sings within you. The resulting explosion of psychic force should burn out their minds quite efficiently." His grin grew. "So - what I need you to do is to just go to Wyoming. And put this gun in a little hole. And walk away. That's all I need you to do."

Dean shook his head, beginning to smile broadly. "No deal."

"You don't have any kind of upper hand," the demon breathed.

Dean smirked. "This scheme - this destiny - it was meant for Sam Winchester, yeah? Body and soul?"

The demon laughed. "Body and soul are inseparable on earth. So yes. Body and soul."

Dean began to laugh. Sam stared incredulously at him, then it hit him and he started to laugh as well.

Even Bobby cracked a smile.

The demon now looked confused.

"I don't have your blood in me anymore," Dean growled.

The demon reached out - Dean could feel his oily brain touching his blood for a moment - and recoiled. "You don't! Why don't you?"

"A purification rite," Sam said. "A powerful one that we found."

"Impossible!" the demon spat. "The bonds of body and soul would have to be very weak for that to-"

"And Sam Winchester will never be anything you have been grooming him for," Sam spat. "Your scheme - and all those by anyone superior to you - end here."

"End now," Dean said, adjusting his grip.

"You've lost,' Sam smirked. "Permanently."

The demon opened his mouth, and Den interrupted him. "See, your plans involved Sam Winchester winning. Sam Winchester having your blood in him. Sam Winchester doing what you wanted to avoid the psychic backlash you could control with his blood. But you know why none of that is going to happen?"

"Enlighten me," the demons spat.

Dean's smirk grew deadly cold. "I'm not Sam Winchester."

The demon actually double-took. "You're...not?"

"M-m." The smirk grew larger. "I'm Dean."

The Yellow-Eyed demon jerked as the single bullet from the Colt plowed into his forehead and he lit up from inside like he'd been set on fire. He fell to his knees and then forward, landing on his face, his limbs twitching and sparking.

Dean lowered the gun, staring at the battle. "Dude," he breathed. "This thing is awesome."

Sam made an affectionately exasperated sound and shook his head. He then walked up and put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "We...we did it?"

"We did it," Dean breathed. "We avenged Mom."

"And Jess," Sam said, his hand tightening.

"And Jess," Dean said, turning to face Sam. "And Dad."

Slowly, Sam nodded.

Bobby watched them, studying the demon's deceased vessel. "I got a feelin' you idjits done a lot more'n that."

They turned to look at him, and he spread his hands. "He was talkin' about destiny and hell and all kinds'a heavy shit. You beat him cause you were in each other's bodies. You beat destiny cause you're each other. You two can do anything you want now. Be anything you want now."

They looked at each other, stunned.

Bobby nodded and ended the silence. "C'mon. Let's go back to my place. Clean up and rest awhile. Figure out where you go from here."

As they headed back to the Impala, Sam asked, "Hey, Dean? How come I suddenly had a vision? This body doesn't, anymore."

Dean gave him a sad smile. "Andy did it. He sent the images to you to tell you where we were and what was going on."

Sam squeezed his shoulder. No words were needed.

They had a lot to think about.

SPN MILEAGE SPN MILEAGE SPN

The pair of invisible men stood on a hill overlooking Cold Oak, watching this play out.

"Wow," the blond said, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets. "...I don't believe it. It's... It's over."

"Over," the other one said, awe hushing his words. "...No deal for a soul. No breaking a seal. No setting the Apocalypse into motion."

The blond stared at him. "One tiny change..." He sighed. "So now I guess you want me to reverse what I did to them." He held up his hand, fingers poised to snap.

To his shock, his companion's hand enfolded his, preventing the movement. "Castiel?"

"No. Le-Leave them be." Castiel still stared at the brothers below them. "Let... Let that be their reward for their success."

"To be stuck as each other for the rest of their lives?" The blond suddenly broke into laughter, his head falling back as he cracked up. "Castiel, I didn't know you had it in you! Are you sure you're not a Trickster yourself?"

"I don't have that much power," Castiel said. "No, I want them left that way so they'll understand that it was this that enabled them to defeat the demon. Their trust in each other."

The blond smirked. "You do realise this is going to make things very interesting, if we leave them this way."

"Yes. It's also a reminder for me."

"How so?"

"I look at them – like this – both alive. Neither of them aware of the disaster that has been averted... They saved the world, brother. And they do not even realise it."

The blond frowned, turning to look at him again. "Castiel – this was your idea. So in a very real way – you saved the world."

"I couldn't... I couldn't have that happen to them. I couldn't have that on their shoulders. I ... I had to act. I had to do something."

"You disobeyed," the blond realised, awe hushing his voice. "You went outside the plan. You...changed...everything. For a pair of human brothers." He looked back at the Impala, which was now rolling out of Cold Oak, Bobby behind the wheel as Sam patched up Dean's gash in the back seat. "...and you saved the world in the process."

There was a strange noise beside him. A rustle and a... sniffle? "Castiel?" The blond looked back, and his eyes went huge. "...what the hell? Castiel? ...are you crying?"

END