A/N: I know, I know; I shouldn't work on three fics at once but... this prompt was too good to pass on e v e
Prompt originally belongs to thespywhospies on tumblr, full link to the original post on my profile, yet for now simply know that Sammy's irl counterpart is Ben Barnes and John's is Gaspard Ulliel (no it's not the John and Sammy you're thinking of, just go read you'll understand)
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me
The day had started normal for them.
Normal, of course, being abnormal for everyone else.
They had found a job a state over from their latest squatting ground, the hole-in-the-wall of a place Larry Ganem had given them instructions to. They'd stayed in the information plethora that had once been the headquarters of the Men of Letters for a little more than two weeks now, not having done much of anything since the whole issue with the golem. As hard as it had been to drag Sammy away from the mountains of research, Dean'd had no other choice that morning; pointy swords couldn't keep him entertained forever. The cabin fever he had developed couldn't even be overcome by a nice drive in his baby; no, he needed the satisfaction of ganking some sort of supernatural SOB if he was going to be stuck underground with Sam nerding out for much longer.
So Dean had kept a watchful eye on the news, and soon enough his luck had panned out. It was nothing major, simply a restless spirit that had decided to bring his momma's boy tendencies to the afterlife with him. Despite the low-level of action that'd happened, Dean hadn't been able to help the small, self-satisfied smirk that had appeared as he gazed down at the burning corpse before him and his brother. So funny how the weird, the supernatural, things that would terrify the living daylights out of normal people, were just what he needed sometimes to regain a hint of normality.
If only he knew that the truly weird part of the night was yet to begin.
When they had gotten back to the headquarters Sam had immediately dived back into what Dean had fondly dubbed the nerd burrow. Over the past week the centermost table of the room had become overflown with journals and books that his brother had lovingly adopted and pilfered through, Sam only leaving willingly when his own stink or need to pee drove him to the bathroom. The elder of the two had found it necessary to drag Sam away to eat on more than one occasion, which, while it had amused Dean to no end the first time, had only added to his cabin fever as it because a habitual event.
The elder brother left Sam to his business now, knowing that it wouldn't be too long before he would find his moose of a sibling asleep, book serving as a makeshift pillow. No, instead Dean delved deeper into the headquarters, over to where the personal rooms of the Order's members had once been. While all the rooms had been dusty when he first found them, after a handful of hours of half-assed cleaning Dean had managed to make two of the rooms livable without risk of death by dust.
Moving into the room he had claimed as his own, he was quick to take advantage of the, somehow still being supplied, hot water this place had, greedily staying in the shower longer than need be.
He only left his warm sanctuary when an anxious, and a bit pissed off, cry of "Dean!" had met his ears, coupled with the insistent pounding of his brother on his door.
Groaning slightly at the disruption he was quick to turn off the shower and tug on a clean pair of clothes, a few minutes later moving out of the bathroom to pacify whatever had caught his little brother's attention.
"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Sammy. Now what-" Dean had began saying as he exited the bathroom, though halted as soon as he saw two unfamiliar people sitting on his bed, the full force of one of Sam's bitch faces directed on them, suspicion laced within.
They both appeared to be no older than their mid twenties, but that seemed to be about as far as resemblance went. The darker haired of the two was half leaning, half sitting against the side of the bed, hands buried deeply in a worn and faded leather jacket that looked as if it had seen much better days. Black denim jeans clung to his hips and carried down to bunch about his ankles, some kind of red boot and sneaker hybrid peeking out from beneath the hems. He held about him a wary air, and seemed to be inspecting Sam and Dean as much as the brothers were watching him, though there was a more curious look in his gaze, none of the hostile suspicion either of the Winchesters held.
The other was dressed in a slimming, black, double-breasted coat, the collar folding up to transform into a turtleneck mock. Dark wash navy jeans peeked out under the hem, the quality looking brand new compared to his companion's obviously well-loved black bottoms. Obsidian colored boots completed the image, ankles crossed as he rested on the bed, a smirk in place on his golden brown hair framed face. He, unlike his counterpart, seemed to be completely at ease with their situation, flopped back on the mattress, arms crossed under his nape-length, swept back hair.
"Sam," Dean grunted, not needing to say much else as a question as to who in the world these two were, and why they were here.
"They came in through the closet," was all the younger replied, eyes narrowing farther in suspicion.
It took Dean a moment to understand what his brother was implying, before he suddenly turned on the two watching the exchange from the bed. "Son of a bitch; not this time-traveling shit again. Who the hell are you two?" Dean demanded.
"Well someone certainly woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," the golden-haired of two piped up, an unsettlingly familiar smirk peeking up at Dean; something poked irritatingly at the hunter's mind as he failed to figure out where he had seen that look before.
"Leave him be, John," the darker haired one huffed with an amused role of his eyes.
"Aww, but it is so fun to poke at his buttons; especially since he doesn't know who we are, yet." The golden haired one, John, looked up at that moment, flashing a mischevious grin up at the glaring brothers.
"You know what? We don't need to know who the hell you two are, you both are heading back. Now," Dean grunted, moving forwards to tug John up and off of the bed jerkily, a fist gripping into the front of the younger man's coat.
"Oh, are we?" John challenged, eyebrow arching in a 'like hell you can make me' manner, amber eyes flashing warningly. Dean merely rolled his eyes at the younger man, quickly deciding he could take this kid in a fight if it came to it. Choosing to shove him towards Sam instead of replying he then turned to stare at the darker haired of the two. Dean grunted in a 'get up on your own now or I'll tug you up like I did the other little shit' manner, arms crossing as he gazed down at the young man before him. The other wasn't looking at or paying any attention to Dean though, instead watching in amusement as John had began staring at Sam in a curious manner, the golden-haired sizing the moose up.
Rolling his eyes, Dean grabbed the man by his leather-clad arm, tugging him fully to his feet and half-dragging him towards the door. "Okay let's shove these two back in the cupboard to Narnia, Sam," he huffed, ignoring his brother's amused look at the children's book refrence.
"Well, this was a nice waste of time, nice going Sammy," John spoke up, confusing both Winchesters for a moment, a confusion that quickly dissipated by the scowl that touched down on the man in Dean's grip.
"Wow, okay genius. Who was it spouting all that 'Let's go find our parents! It's a great idea!' My ass it was a great idea," the dark haired one, Sammy, snapped at John, to which the other seemed to straighten indignantly, an offended look in place.
Sam and Dean shared a confused look, before Sam asked, "Parents?" in a hesitant manner, a fearfully curious expression touching down on his features.
John and Sammy ignored him, instead staring bitterly at one another, not noticing the Winchester brothers had stopped hustling them forwards, electric fire in eithers' eyes.
"Come on couzie, give me a break. We need help tracking that demon, and since all of our parents have been 'napped, this is the best thing. You know it is, don't lie," John smirked cockily at the other, raising a finger to point at his cousin in emphasis with his comment.
"Demon?" Dean huffed exasperatedly.
"Parents?" Sam repeated again, then, "Who are they? We can help you guys find them in this time if you need help-"
"Like hell we will Sammy, we aren't running a daycare for future brats," Dean cut in, frowning at his brother. Meanwhile the cousins had paused their squabbling, staring at Sam in confusion.
John was the first to react, tugging free of Sam's grip to cackle, hugging his stomach and bending down into a crouch. "They really are as slow as Dad said!" he snorted, gazing in blatant amusement between the two Winchesters. The brothers scowled down at him, not liking to be left in the dark.
"What the-" Sam started, before Sammy sighed exaggeratedly.
"I'll end this now before John does something stupid to piss you off even more; as much as you would like to it would be pretty bad to send us back to our time. We-"
"Oh come on Samandriel! Don't spoil all the fun, these two are such grumps, I'm surprised even you can resist riling them up!" John cut in gleefully.
"Samandriel? As in the angel, Samandriel?" Dean asked staring at Sam with a confused look, his brother merely shrugging.
The dark haired man didn't seem to hear the question, instead huffing and glaring at his cousin. "Don't give me know that's what my Dad is like all the time, you can goad him all you want later."
Twin sounds of shock escaped from Sam and Dean, each managing something similar to a strangled kitten.
"Dad? What the hell do you mean by 'Dad'?" Dean demanded, holding shock and more than a tad bit of horror in his exclamation, while Sam looked almost constipated with how hard he was trying not to laugh.
The two had stopped talking at the amusing noises each brother had made; Sammy's mouth was twisting up into a grin, chuckles held back behind pressed lips, while John had gone back to cackling in amusement.
"As funny as it would be to let you two freak out like little girls, we need to be productive before all hell breaks loose," Sammy stated after a few moments.
"For the fifth time," John piped up, earning a confused look from the Winchester brothers and an absentminded nod from Sammy.
"To put this simply, Sam, Dean, we are from the future. Or well, your future, relatively speaking. My name is Samandriel, and that's John. I," he paused, blue gaze moving to stare seriously at Dean, another nagging feeling of familiarity appearing in the hunter's mind as he was unable to place where he had seen it before.
"He's your son!" John interjected, smirking up at Dean from over Sammy's shoulder. The golden-haired cousin then turned to grin broadly at Sam, the moose of a brother paling as he already guessed the next words out of John's mouth.
"How's it going, Pop?"