A cloud of dust and coughing greeted Dean and Sam as they made their way into their base. The sound of a body landing heavily startled them and had them both aiming guns at the dust cloud without a second of hesitation.
"Son of a bitch," came a soft, familiar groan between bouts of coughing as the dust started to settle.
"Dean?" Sam called cautiously, even as he looked over to the brother he'd been riding in the car with for the last 12 hours.
"Just a second, Sammy," Dean's voice called back as the dust finished settling. The man kneeling in a pool of dust looked exactly like the Dean holding a gun just a few feet away from Sam. He looked almost the same, aside from the dust covered clothing and a small duffle bag at his side. He shook his head and tried to wipe some of the dust from his face with only a little success.
"Who in the hell are you?" Non-dusty Dean demanded, gun still pointed at the doppelganger.
"Well that's not promising," the dust costed Dean coughed out with a small laugh. He manse to blink his eyes open and they were identical to Dean's. "I'm Dean Winchester," he offered, hands in the air to show he was surrendering. The move pulled his jacket back far enough to reveal a perfect copy of Dean's favorite handgun. "The Wiccan from Wichita."
TBC ...