The man sat looking over an old stump. Around the stump lying in the fresh powdered snow were exactly 20 pieces of what would become firewood.

Looking down at blistered hands, the man calculated what he'd need for the next day or two. A red axe leaned against the stump in front of him, the handle covered in condensation from heavy breathing.

"One more," the man said, standing up and popping his back.

Looking around, the man noticed he only had one more log to split anyway.

"Good timing," he said.

Placing the chilled wood from an oak tree on top of the chopping stump, the man stepped back. Sighing, he raised the axe high as his sore shoulders would allow him.

Then, with a grunt, he brought the edge down and split the log into two pieces.

Over the next half hour, he stacked them next to his cabin outside the kitchen window, stopping only to scratch his thick brown beard that hung half a foot under his chin.

Taking two logs with him, the man went inside. His front door closed behind him, the man took off his snowy boots and walked with his two logs into the kitchen. It sat on the west side of his cabin.

Kneeling on his kitchen floor, the man's knees popped. He ran the edges of his cold fingers along the top of an old iron wooden oven constructed in 1978.

Opening the hatch, a little warmth leaked out from embers barely clinging to life. The man tossed his logs into the oven and stirred around them with a poker to get a fire growing again.

He tossed a little crumpled newspaper inside and after a couple minutes had a decent flame built.

Closing his oven's hatch, the man stood and walked over to a cabinet. Pulling out a freezer bag, the man pulled out two last pieces of deer jerky and started to chew on one.

It was rough, almost too old to eat, but the man didn't care. It'd tide him over until he got a rabbit stew going.

As the man prepared his stew ingredients, he turned on an old orange radio and tuned into KUUL 96.1 FM out of Harrison.

He caught the station right at the top of the hour, and a meteorologist out of Springfield was giving the evening forecast.

"Looks like northern Arkansas will continue to see heavy snowfall through the night. It's not unusual for The Natural State to see snow in February, but his much? That's a little odd. The entire Ozark Mountains will see at least five inches, with Newton and Boone counties seeing more than 12 inches.

Bring the pets inside and make plans for school to be cancelled tomorrow. I'm Martie Hamond, and this has been your KHNV forecast."

The man's brain tuned out commercials ranging from a local carpet sale to the Harrison School District's upcoming bake sale. While he chopped vegetables a DJ came back from commercial break.

"It's 7:05 p.m., and I'm just getting things cranked up. You're rocking with Billy Shepherd on KUUL 96.1 FM," Billy said.

The man chopped up some tomatoes while his DJ spun through a top five awful Valentine's Day gift list. He chuckled a few times.

"When we come back, I'll tell you what brand of condoms has been proven to lead to the highest rate of unintended pregnancy. But right now, let's start out my shift with a song that peaked at number 11 on the Billboard in 1977," Billy said.

Feeling the top of his stove for a split second, the man determined it was ready and put a can of beef gravy in a pot and began to cut some potatoes.

"Carry on my wayward sooooooon," Kansas sang on the radio.

A creaking floorboard behind him caused the man to turn.

The entire cabin was one room with the exception of a bathroom in the south corner of the home.

Turning, the man saw a bald man standing just inside the front door.

"Well I really shouldn't both coming up with some story about being lost and needing help, right?" the man said.

As the stranger opened his mouth, tiny fangs revealed themselves, and a little drool dripped down onto a black wool coat.

"No, no excuse needed," the man said looking down a his floorboards.

"Good. I'm tired of coming up with lies when I just want blood. I'd hoped to sneak up on you, but these pesky floorboards are just so old and squeaky," the vampire said.

"Yeah. . . yeah they are. That's why I like them," the man said, finding what he was looking for. He stepped about two feet left, and the vampire began to run across the floor at blinding speed.

The man in the cabin? He was just a little faster, having killed hundreds of vampires before. The man slammed his boot into the kitchen floorboard with a triangle carved in the corner.

Its edge flew up just in time to impale the vampire and stop him about six inches short of the cabin's owner.

He snarled but couldn't free himself.

"You really carved up a loose floorboard? Who does that?"

"Experienced hunters. That's who," the cabin owner said, reaching into his leather jacket and pulling out a machete.

"Don't see too many vampires here in Arkansas, but I've killed countless elsewhere," the cabin owner said.

With that, he severed the creature's head, and it fell onto the kitchen floor with a sickening plop.

Sighing, the man went to get his cleaning supplies. Before he'd returned, the sound of another creaking floorboard met his ears.

"Hello, Deano. Been a while," a familiar voice said.

The man turned and with his red eyes formed from years of sleepless nights, gallons of whiskey, and a pain so deep words didn't exist to describe the canyon's surface, looked upon a familiar archangel.

"Glad to see me?" the short archangel said, scratching his short brown hair.

Dean was speechless.

"What is this?" his raspy voice finally asked.

"Well this. . . this is a meeting I never thought I'd have in a place neither of us should have ever ended up in."

"You're dead, same as everyone else," Dean said.

"Believe it or not, I'm one of two people from our world who is still breathing," the angel said.

"Lucifer killed you, so you must be this world's Gabriel," Dean said, reaching into his leather jacket and pulling out an angel blade.

"Nope. I'm from Earth 715, same as you. In fact, we're the last survivors from that world. But you already knew that," Gabriel said.

Dean shook his head and went back to making stew.

"Hey, look. You're depressed, I get it. But listen, we need to talk. It's urgent," Gabriel said, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder.

He spun and slashed, causing a slim silver light to appear on Gabriel's shoulder.

"That really smarts, Deano. Why don't you put down the angel blade, and we'll talk?"

"I'm done talking. I don't care what Gabriel you are, or why you're here. I'm done with all this angel/demon business. I'm done with it all," Dean said.

Gabriel held out his hand, and a glass of whiskey appeared in it. He offered it to Dean.

"How about this? You drink, and I'll talk. If I haven't piqued your interest by the time that whiskey is gone, I'll leave. Deal?" Gabriel asked.

Dean spat into the sink and then angrily took the glass. Taking a big gulp, he saw the beverage slowly refill.

Looking up with an angry glare, the embattled hunter growled.

"It'll only refill up to one bottle. I promise," Gabriel said, placing his right hand on his heart.

"Scout's honor."

Shaking his head and taking another sip, Dean spun his fingers for Gabriel to get his spiel over with.

"God filled me in on the details, so I'm all caught up. You're probably under the impression Lucy killed me at that hotel back in 2009? Well, he didn't. Right before he struck the killing blow, dad flung me into this world. And I've been stuck here since. That catches you up on me," Gabriel said.

Dean finished his first glass, and it slowly started to refill.

"Fascinating. But I don't find my interest piqued," Dean said.

"I'm not done yet. Now, God recently reached out to me on angel radio and filled me in on everything up until the destruction of our home dimension," Gabriel said. "He told me to tell you he's sorry about everything, and believe me, kiddo. I am too."

Dean had heard enough.

"Oh, well I'm glad he's sorry. That really makes me feel better! I've been sitting in this shit cabin outside in the middle of the Ozarks for seven damn years, but at least God feel sorry," Dean said.

"Yeah, I know buddy. You need to lash out, so let's get this done."

Dean grabbed Gabriel by the neck and slammed him into the cabin's fridge so hard the entire unit rattled.

"You have no idea what I've need. You have no idea what I've lost. You have no idea. . . about anything in the shithole that is my life, Gabriel!"

Dean held the angel blade to Gabriel's throat and continued to scream at the top of his lungs.

"I watched Sam and Cas die for the thousandth time, I failed to stop Lucifer for the thousandth time, and right before Jack blew my whole dimension to smithereens, he dumped me on this Earth alone. So I've gotten to stew in my pain for nearly a decade. Mom's gone. Dad's gone. Sam's gone. Cas is gone. Everything I've ever known, loved, or hated is gone, so you tell me one good reason why I shouldn't slash your throat with this blade and then put a bullet in my head, Gabriel!"

Gabriel slowly worked his arms up as he looked Dean in the eyes, his bloodshot and all but empty green eyes. And then he held those hands in front of Dean's face.

"You're carrying around all this poison, Dean. It's been eating you alive for the past seven years, and I'm sorry. I'm truly very sorry, kiddo. Yeah, Dad screwed up by being gone surfing the cosmos with Amara, but I'm here now. And I'll do everything I can to help with the pain. You're not alone anymore. I found you," Gabriel said.

Dean said nothing.

"You've endured so much. Humans weren't meant to carry the pain you have, Dean. So believe me. I get that you're broken, but I'm here to help put the pieces back together as best I can," Gabriel said.

"Sam?"

"Vaporized along with the Heaven of our world," Gabriel said.

"Mom?"

"Same."

"Dad?"

"Same."

"Cas?"

"Vaporized along with The Empty of our world," Gabriel said.

"Crowley?"

"Same."

"Bobby?"

"Exists in this world, but he never became a hunter. This world's Mary was infertile and died in a car crash with John about two years before Sam would have been born. He's not your Bobby," Gabriel said.

"Then how the Hell are you going to put the pieces back together, huh? You have no one for me to reconnect with, Gabriel. What do you expect? I'm going to share a few drinks with you, and we'll be good to go?" Dean asked, pushing the blade a sliver into Gabriel's neck so silver light appeared.

"You know, I should have known playing the apologetic comforter wouldn't work with you. You've always needed a swift kick in the ass when you were down, Dean," Gabriel said.

With that, the archangel put both his hands on Dean's head, and they began to glow gold. Memories the Winchester had hastily managed to wall off upon arrival in this world came cracking through like rays of light into a dusty room hidden by only a raggedy curtain.

Hundreds of memories played before Dean in high speed. Everything from birthdays on the road with Sam to John's last appearance following the slaying of Azazel. There were hugs, beers, and so much greasy food even Dean's intestines shuddered momentarily.

How Dean felt every time Castiel died and later came back, how he felt every time Sam died and later came back, and then how Dean felt every time he lost a loved one and they didn't return. Charlie, Joe, Bobby, and countless others. And then there faces, hundreds and hundreds of faces he couldn't place.

Then, he recognized one, someone he saved from a rugaru outside Dayton, Ohio. On the left was a little girl he'd rescued from a pack of werewolves. And over the course of what felt like an eternity, every soul Dean had ever saved appeared before the older Winchester in the blackness of his mind.

"What do you all want?" Dean asked.

They said nothing, just looking at Dean and smiling. Then. . . slowly, applause came. It was quiet at first before eventually growing into a coliseum's roar. Cheers came next, and finally the roar of the crowd washed over Dean like a tide of euphoria.

"These are all the people you saved with your 38 years back home, Dean. And they're all grateful for what you did, even if it only bought them another year or two. You still saved them," Gabriel said, appearing next to Dean in the black.

"What's your point?" Dean asked, a solitary tear finally streaking down his left cheek and dropping off his nose.

When his head felt like it would explode, Dean was returned to his kitchen, the smell of burning wood entering his nostrils once more.

"The point is your family business, Dean. Saving people, hunting things. I need you to do that again. . . here," Gabriel said.

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"You expect me to just snap to it? Start saving people again because you asked nicely? No. I told you; I'm done. No more hunting, no more saving people that'll just inevitably die later, and no more apocalypse. I've lost too much, and I just don't care anymore. Do it yourself," Dean said.

Now Gabriel grabbed Dean and moved him across the room, slamming him into a nearby wall so hard the entire cabin shook.

Dean felt the wind rush out of him.

"I know you've suffered Dean, and I'm sorry. I really am. But you're not the first person to lose his brother. You think you can't function without Sam, but the truth is you can. You've always been able to. I lost my brothers too, kiddo, but here I am, trying to save people because they need more. They need you," Gabriel said.

"I don't care what they need," Dean said, sticking his face right into Gabriel's.

Gabriel sneered and then slammed Dean into the wall again.

"I know the old Dean is in there somewhere, and I'm not leaving until I've pulled him out. So we can dance this dance 1,000 times, or you can save us both a little time and stop with the pity party," Gabriel said.

"Piss off, asshole," Dean muttered.

"You want so badly to die, but you're not done yet, Dean. You still have a shot at a happy ending in this world," Gabriel said.

Dean sneered now.

"I can have a happy ending anytime I want. There's this little massage parlor just across the border in Missouri I tend to frequent," Dean said.

Gabriel's hands glowed gold again, and he put one on Dean's forehead.

"Dammit, Dean, remember what John taught you to do! He taught you how to be a soldier, how to pick up and carry on even when things got bad, really bad. You're a Winchester, that's what you were bred to do. It's what I need you to do here," Gabriel yelled.

Memories of John training Dean, tossing him to the ground and picking him back up again came flooding into Dean's mind.

"Come on, Dean. Get off your ass. There's work to do," John's voice yelled.

In one memory, John was teaching Dean how to make a sawed off shotgun. In another, he was showing Dean exactly where to cut on the neck to decapitate a vampire. In the final memory, John's ghost stood before Sam and Dean right after Azazel had been killed.

"I'm so proud of my boys," he said.

"Enough!" Dean yelled, coming back to his kitchen again. "What the Hell do you want from me?"

"There he is. That's the Dean Winchester I need," Gabriel said. "I need you to start saving people and hunting things in this world, Dean."

Dean looked over his oven and sighed.

"That's the difference between you and Sam. I kept Sam trapped in one day for years showing him what life would be like without you. He couldn't handle it. But you? John, Jr? You keep on keeping on. It sucks for you, but there's still work to do, Dean Winchester."

Handing him another glass, Gabriel looked into Dean's eyes and saw life there for the first time since he arrived in this world.

Dean took the glass, and Gabriel stepped back a few feet.

"This Earth is interesting. It's mostly like ours with one major exception. . . no Sam and Dean Winchester. And no apocalypses. It seems Lucifer and Michael both rule Heaven and Hell with a peace arrangement. Angels and demons stay out of each other's way in this world.

This world's Gabriel? Apparently he died to make that happen, and out of grief, my two brothers signed a treaty," Gabriel said.

"Then what do you need me for?" Dean asked, finishing his glass. This time, it didn't refill.

"There are still monsters here, and one group in particular is getting to be a major problem."

"Which ones?"

"It's the vamps, Dean. There are hundreds of them, and their nests are merging in the city's to become major covens. They're sucking people dry faster than the hunters can keep up with, and it's all because of their leader," Gabriel said.

"The alpha?"

"No. In this world the alpha was killed off centuries ago by a younger vampire at the time. His name was Vlad the Impaler," Gabriel said.

"Sounds kinda gay," Dean said.

Gabriel laughed for a solid minute at that line.

"Yeah, that's why he changed his name. He goes by Dracula now."

"Dracula? Seriously? You want me to kill freakin' Dracula?" Dean asked.

Gabriel nodded.

"Start wiping out nests and then figure out how to kill the leader. Left unchecked, these vamps will overtake this entire country, Dean."

Dean looked down at the floorboards and sighed.

"I can see you're struggling not to ask the question, 'What's in it for me?'"

The Winchester looked back up at Gabriel and nodded.

"How about this?" Gabriel said, snapping his fingers.

Dean looked around, and nothing was different. The older Winchester shrugged, waiting for something to change.

"Well?" he asked.

Then, outside, Dean heard a sound he thought he'd never hear again. It was the sound of an engine starting.

Looking at the front door and then back at Gabriel, Dean's mouth slowly opened.

"Go look," Gabriel said.

Slowly walking outside, Dean saw her. Baby was sitting in the snow.

"How did you find her?" Dean asked.

"Well, she's not the original. I remade her from your memories, but everything should be the same. And while I can't bring back your brother or Cas. . . maybe this will help," Gabriel said, snapping his fingers a second time.

Dean continued to run his fingers over Baby's hood until he heard a voice behind him say, "Howdy brother."

Slowly turning, Dean's eyes fell upon a vampire with a beard smaller than his own. The vampire was wearing a black flat cap and corduroy jacket.

"Be. . . Benny?" Dean asked, trying to stifle a sob.

"It's me, brother," he said.

Now Dean turned to Gabriel.

"I'll let him fill you in on that. I have to split," Gabriel said.

"You're not coming?"

"No, Dean. I gotta keep moving. I can't let this world's Michael and Lucifer find me. They're not exactly going to be thrilled a few beings from another dimension spilled over into theirs. So, I try not to use my abilities often and move quick," Gabriel said.

"Wait a second. . . what happens if they find me and Benny?"

"Benny and I, brother," Benny corrected.

"Don't make me send you to this world's purgatory," Dean threatened, pointing a finger at him.

"You let me worry about that, kiddo. I'm working on a few things that should save our skin in the end," Gabriel said, winking. "You just keep working on that happy ending."

Dean was about to get in the car when he turned back to Gabriel again.

"That's not the first time you said that. What are you talking about?"

Gabriel smiled and said, "I'm talking about Lisa."

"Lisa?" Dean thought for a moment. "Braeden?"

"And on comes the light bulb. Yes, your long lost love. From what God tells me, you royally screwed that up back in our world. But this Lisa? You can start from scratch and fall in love all over again when this is all said and done," Gabriel said.

Dean looked at the snow falling from the sky and thought this over.

"And if you somehow manage to avoid screwing this one up, I can even merge her with your memories of the Lisa in the other world," Gabriel said.

The older Winchester looked up and was speechless.

"Soul mates exist, Dean, and she's definitely yours. But you're gonna have to move quick," Gabriel said.

"Why?" Dean asked.

"Because she's being held by a nest in Fort Wayne, Indiana. You'd better get going. That's a 10 hour drive," Gabriel said.

"Can't you just poof us there?" Dean asked.

"No. Can't use my abilities anymore than I already have. You'll be fine. They haven't sucked her dry yet. Get moving," Gabriel said and vanished into the snowy night.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelled and ran for Baby, diving inside.

Benny hopped into the passenger seat, and Dean peeled out of the snowy yard and onto a little two-lane highway that'd carry him up to Indiana.