AN: To those who read the original (& unfinished) TWC, well... I decided to turn it into a one shot. Hope you still enjoy it.


Three Wooden Crosses

Sam opened his eyes but the bright light made him wince in pain and close them again. There was a pounding in his head that probably meant he'd gotten drunk the night before. He didn't remember entering a bar, much less getting drunk, but it wouldn't be the first time he was victim to an alcohol induced blackout.

It was the first time, though, that he woke up in a barn after a drinking binge. He frowned. How the hell had he gotten there? Sam stood up slowly; he didn't want to throw up. When he was standing straight and didn't feel dizzy or sick he figured out he was far from hungover, which meant he hadn't been drinking the night before. So what the hell had he done the night before?

He looked around the barn, squinting. Where the bright light was coming from, he had no idea, but it was blinding. That's when he saw it, in the far corner of the barn: a body. He could only make out the silhouette of a young boy – or maybe a midget? - when suddenly the memories came crashing full force and he fell to his knees, heaving.

That little boy over there was Ben, and if he remembered correctly, Lisa, Jo and Ellen would be scattered around the barn, all dead. He remembered stabbing them repeatedly; taking his sweet time with Lisa for the simple reason that she was Dean's... she was important to Dean. He also remembered having no control on his actions; it was as if an outside force was controlling him, controlling his every movement. Except that the force was inside his body, inside his head.

It couldn't have been a demonic force screwing with his head; he and Dean had made sure that would never happen again when they'd gotten anti-possession pentagrams tattooed on their chests. He pushed back the sickness he felt and tried remembering what had happened before he'd killed his friends in a barn in the middle of nowhere.

It had been a demonic possession, even though he was having a hard time believing it. Somehow, a demon had been able to hold him down long enough to slash a line in his ward, therefore making it possible to possess him. If the situation wasn't so bad, Sam would've laughed: after everything, after all he did to prevent it, he had still become a demon's little bitch.

He heard moaning and got up quickly. He really hoped that they were all alive, even though he knew it wasn't possible; he remembered the light leaving the eyes of his… his family. No survivors was his best bet, but against all odds, Lisa had survived.

He stared at her for a moment before he snapped out of it and knelt down beside her. "Lisa? Lisa are you okay?" She stared at him, her eyes full of fear. Then she screamed. She was screaming at him to leave her alone, to burn in hell… she was pleading. Pleading with him to take her instead of her son. "I'm sorry Lisa…" he said. But he knew it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

That's when Dean decided to barge in. Sam knew that his brother was probably going to beat him to a bloody pulp; he could see it in the way his shoulders were tensed, in the way his jaw was set. And he knew that he'd let him do it. Hell, if he could, he'd save him the trouble and do it himself.

Dean was sidetracked by the sight of Ben, mangled body and all. He made a painful sound in the back of his throat and fell to his knees, holding Ben's hand in his. "What have you done Sammy?"

That's when Sam knew he had to make it better somehow. He took the opportunity to flee when Dean looked around him, his grief written all over his face. He was going to find a car, and then he was going to drive until he found the demon that had done that to his family and kill it. Then, and only then, he was going to come back home.

It wouldn't bring them back, nothing would, but he'd be damned if he let that thing live while his brother suffered. But first, he had something important to do.

{…}

The line between good and evil was a thin one, Dean knew that. He also knew there was only a step to be taken to go from hovering to crossing said line. And Sam had taken that step months ago when he'd killed Ben, Jo and Ellen. Dean had been left to pick up the pieces, as always, while his brother ran far away from his family.

He sat on the ground, not caring much for the mud that seeped through his jeans, and stared at the three wooden crosses that had been planted on the side of the road that led to the barn. Sam. Sam had done that. Dean didn't know if it was to show remorse or to nag him. He usually could read his brother pretty well but since what had happened that night, he didn't even try anymore. He had been wrong once, he could be wrong again.

That night he had been shaken to the core. If his brother could be a cold blooded murderer, anything could happen. He'd held Ben's hand until he had realised that Lisa was still alive. He hadn't even been able to find it in him to be relieved that she was alive. He had taken her to the hospital and left her to the hands of the doctors in the ER.

That night, he had prayed to Castiel. He had prayed the whole night. When the sun got up and Dean realised Cas wasn't going to come, he had stopped praying. Somehow, that had been another loss. Castiel was supposed to be his friend, but he guessed angels just didn't care enough about humans, even humans that were destined to save the world.

That Castiel had abandoned him hadn't even surprised him if he was honest. He was Dean Winchester after all. His parents had died, any friend he'd made throughout the year was probably dead because he'd talked to him, his whole family had left, even Lisa. So an ass of an angel abandoning him wasn't that surprising.

Dean hadn't heard from his brother since that night. The bastard had pinned a paper on one of the stupid crosses for him to find and had left.

Dean. I'll make this alright, I promise. I'll explain everything when I get back.

He had called him an asshole so many times after reading those two sentences he had lost count. He just wanted his old life back. The one were the only thing he had to worry about was pissing off angels. Because there was no way he was letting Lucifer ride Sam. Or Michael ride him for that matter.

"Hello Dean" a deep voice said from behind him. Cas. Dean got up so fast he felt light headed for a second. "You motherfucking asshole!" was the only warning Castiel got before Dean's fist connected with his jaw.

The angel cocked his head to the side as the hunter yelped in pain and cradled his hand. "What seems to be the matter, Dean?" The hunter stared at him in silence. "What's the matter?" he almost yelled, "what's the fucking matter? I'll tell you what's wrong, you asshole! I prayed for you a whole night, and you didn't even fucking answer! You let them die. You let Sam kill them!"

"You seem to be mad at me." Dean groaned. "Mad? Mad doesn't even start to cover it, shithead!" The angel frowned. "I find that I dislike it when you insult me. I'd stop if I were you." The hunter laughed, but his laughter was short lived. "Where were you, Cas?"

Castiel closed his eyes for a moment. He had heard Dean calling but hadn't been able to respond. "There's a war going on in heaven Dean, you are aware of that. I couldn't come." Dean rolled his eyes and sat back down, returning his gaze on the three crosses.

"I wish I could've done something to stop him…" Dean sighed after a moment. Castiel nodded. "Your brother was possessed by a demon when he did that, it wasn't his fault". Dean turned his gaze to his angel friend. "Possessed? How is that even possible?"

The angel sighed. "The demon only had to break a line in Sam's tattoo to be able to do that. It's actually quite easy." Dean nodded: it made sense. "But Sam's a freaking giant!" Castiel rolled his eyes. "Your brother may be tall, Dean, but he's also human. Demons are strong."

They stayed in companionable silence for a while. "Cas? If you had been able to come that night, would you have been able to save them?" The angel didn't answer; he merely stared at the crosses. "Cas, answer me!"

"I don't know. Maybe." The hunter stared at his friend. "You, all of you freaking angels, are assholes, you know that?" Castiel sighed. "There was nothing I could do that night to get to you, but there is one thing I can do now."

"Then do it!" Dean growled. "I am not certain you are going to like it." The human man laughed. "I don't give a damn Castiel. Do it." The angel sighed. "Your friends will be alive, Dean, but some things will have changed."

"Now!"

{…}

Castiel had sent Dean into a parallel past. The apocalypse was still going to happen – that was a thing he could not change – and Dean had still gone to hell. The Winchesters were still Michael's and Lucifer's vessels. John and Mary Winchester were still dead. But Sam had not killed Jo, Ellen and Ben.

The angel had told Dean he wouldn't like this past, but the hunter hadn't cared. The reason Ben wasn't dead was because Lisa didn't exist. Now, it was too late for Dean to change his mind: he couldn't remember the other world; the 'real' world. He hadn't been able to send Dean in his real past to stop his brother, because the demon would've had his intended victim and Lucifer would've won the war before it even started. This was the best he could do.

Everything was still quite the same. Dean hated angels – Castiel was the only exception – and angels hated Dean. Once again, Castiel was the only exception. The angels still fought a war in heaven, while the Winchesters fought their wars on earth. God was still missing. Really, nothing had changed. But if Dean ever came to find out that Castiel had to eliminate Lisa in order to bring back his friends, he would never forgive him.


So, what did you think? You can leave a review, if you want, to tell me if you liked it or not!