He'd been having a reoccurring feeling of Déjà vu for years now. He couldn't remember when it had started. It could have been when he saw Cas standing in front of him, broken and as human as he was, or maybe it was when he realized they were running low on toilet paper...Hell it could have been when he went to get a beer from the fridge before remembering there wasn't any left.

Now though, it was getting worse and along with it came this feeling, this horrible gut wrenching feeling like he had seen all of this before, that he had already headed down this path, had already seen the end of this game of cat and mouse, and that...deep down inside he already knew how this was all gonna end. That the way things were heading, he already knew which side was gonna win and sometimes it sure as hell didn't feel like it was gonna be his.

At first he could just shake it off and grab a beer to chase it away. When the beer was gone, he'd go out to find something to hunt, something to kill, something to take his mind off of it. It worked, for a while that is. For the past month or so however, it had only increased and intensified. Now ever thought he had, every breathe he took, was accompanied by a coarse burning sensation running throughout his body, telling him - no ordering him to do something, to change something, anything. That if he kept walking down this path it was gonna lead him somewhere he didn't want to be. That if only he looked up and made his own path, it would change, things would change. But he didn't and...well now it started to feel to feel like he had no other direction to go in but straight.

Cas wasn't any help ever since...well he'd lost his god damned mind and himself in the pleasantries of being a human. Dean couldn't help the sneer that appeared on his face at the thought. Of all times he had wanted the bastard to let loose now wasn't one of them. Chuck...well Chuck was fucking obsessed with the freaking toilet paper. And all that left was Sammy...and Sam was long gone.

For the past couple of days he'd been getting anxious, starting to pace and twitch. It had been a long time since he'd gone back to shoot first and ask questions later but now, now he just felt trigger happy. Sighing, Dean ran a hand through his hair.

'I need to calm the fuck down.'

And it was when he turned around to give out an order to some of the other survivors that he knew. It was that very moment he felt the heart leap out of his chest and his stomach drop that he just knew. In that moment, when he saw the same face that he always looked at in the mirror every morning, just a couple feet away from him, and on someone else's body, he understood. Panic squeezed his heart and for a moment he felt like he'd already died; technically he already had. And it was then that he realized he would do anything to change what he knew would happen, anything to change what he had once seen so very long ago.

But even as he told, no he wouldn't beg - there was no use in begging...not anymore at least, his passed self to accept the offer he had declined, he knew that he wouldn't change. No matter what he said, no matter how much he begged, and even if he got on his hands and knees to plead, he couldn't change anything because he was a stubborn bastard and he knew that. And so it was left to him, left to his present self to try and change it, no matter what.

So when he saw the look of absolute disbelief and anger cross over his past face, he stilled himself and chased away any lingering doubts of what he was about to do. He couldn't remember everything that had happened when he'd come to the future but he knew the ending and nothing would get in his way of trying to change it; not his morals, not his friends, and definitively not himself.

"- I wouldn't sacrifice my friends!"

And looking back at himself, his younger self, his naive self who still thought he could save the world, Dean started to resent every decision he'd ever made. If he had only listened, if he had gone along and done as he was told, none of this would have ever happened...not Cas, not Chuck, not...not even Sammy.

"You're right. You wouldn't. It's one of the main reasons we're in this mess, actually." It was the reason he would let nothing stop him.

"These people count on you, they trust you!" His insides twisted - NO, he had to do this. It was his last chance.

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

"No. Not like this you're not, I'm not gonna let you!" His heart chilled, nothing would get in his way, not even himself.

But even as he punched himself in the face - felt damn good to punch the bastard because if only he had listened, everything... - even when he sacrificed his friends lives - he caught Castiel's eyes somewhere in between and God Damn that Angel, he had known and he had done it anyway, god damn him, it just made it harder for him to breathe because in that moment their eyes had met, his heart clenched as if someone was holding it and would never let go - and even as he charged to try and kill that fucking cockroach bastard, he knew. None of it, not one damn single part of it would change.

"Hello, Dean. Welcome back."

No, he wouldn't cry. No matter how much he wanted to in that moment, looking at such a familiar face - a face that made him miss and regret and every other damn feeling possible, all at once. And so, when he somehow lost his gun - god damn everything, his head wasn't in it and he couldn't remember how he had lost it - he gave a halfhearted attempt at charging the bastard. Then he was on the ground and a foot was pressing down on his throat and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.

"I always win Dean."

And even though everything in him was dying, already knowing what was going to happen, he fought and tried to move the leg, just for a second.

And in that second he gave a strangled whisper, "At least the Devil doesn't lie." A small smile appeared on Sam's face, and even if he knew it wasn't him, he could, for just a second, pretend that it was him.

And then he gave up, not because he didn't want to fight, not because every single part of him wasn't telling him to try god damn it, and not because he's body wasn't pulsing with the need to keep trying, but because as he looked one last time into his own eyes standing a couple feet away, pleading that he would change things, he knew. He knew that everything would always be the same. No matter what choices or details he changed, it would always end the same way.

He would always lose.

AN: Alright! I know I don't need to start another story - but when it comes it comes; ya know? Anyway Hope you enjoyed! Please leave reviews, critics, and any general hello's down bellow. I wrote this pretty quickly and revised it from a past prompt I had. So hopefully it isn't too bad. Anyways this is the direction I felt like things were heading in for Season 9; hopefully I'm completely wrong, but I have a feeling I'm not~ :( Also...quick hint, this probably isn't the end *wink*. I haven't decided yet - but maybe~

ALSO! I'm sorry if future Dean is a little out of character. I tried to keep it as close to his personality, usually I'm not one for cursing in fanfiction but it is his character. I also felt like the general direction his life had gone in and all of the situations were enough of a motivator for all of the emotion as well - At this point I feel like he's blocked himself off from sharing emotions with others but since it is his thoughts, well free rein I guess. Anyway hope you liked

-TimesUnfetteredImaginationbomb