Author's Note: I'll be totally honest. I adore Dean/Tessa ( I feel like I'm the only one who does ) and I've been wanting to try my hand at writing Tessa into a fic for awhile now. I got an idea while watching some fanvids and Supernatural S5's episode 'The End'. This is the product. This is set in year 2014 ( so the futureverse, where the Croat virus runs rampant and most of civilization has been brought to it's knees. ) Dean may be slightly OOC to start but I plan to fix that. I have an idea to further this story but I'll only do that if I get some feedback! If you read it, it would mean the world if you could leave a quick review or a private message for me. If you want to see more, please let me know!

disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or it's lovely characters.

"There's a presence here."

"Really? Because all I'm seeing is shredded bodies. Sure that's not the presence that you're feeling?"

The man beside him grunted, lowering his shotgun. He didn't look to see if his remark had scraped some nerves, knowing Castiel, it hadn't. The other was all too used to his constant barbs. Dean turned his attention back to the floor, minding the bits of flesh and bone that were scattered everywhere. It didn't phase him. Over the past five years he had seen worse. They all had.

The demon that he had taken in a week ago swore that they'd find the Colt here, a long with another black-eyed bastard who was part of the big mans entourage. So far no joy. He had three people in the basement, flipping over every body and scrape of furniture. He and Castiel took the main floor while two stood watch outside.

Castiel stopped, crouching down beside a body. Or half a body, as Dean soon realized. "What do you think got 'em?" Dean asked gruffly. The man shrugged.

"Too clean for Croats, don't think that it's demons either." He food himself silently agreeing as he took the legless body in, image searing into his mind –a long with all the others. "Could have been hounds." Castiel offered. In truth, it didn't matter what did it. There were so many monsters out there now. He had stopped keeping track a very, very long time ago. It was unfortunate that these people look like they'd been blindsided, torn to shreds – that was life though. He wouldn't lose sleep over it. He couldn't afford to.

The Winchester stopped at the front of the room, staring at the red symbols on the walls. Really basic anti-demon stuff. A five year old could have painted it, clearly their efforts had been in vain. The crew had been in their for over an hour. He wanted to be back on the road before dark. A grim expression on his face as he turned back to Castiel, who was still carefully surveying the dead.

Fucking demon. This was just another dead end. The Colt wasn't here. The bastard had lied. He'd had a good feeling about that one too. Every trick he'd learned and long since perfected had been employed. If the gun was here they would have found it by –

"Dean! Get down here! We've got something!"

Both he and Cas' head snapped towards the open door near the front of the room. "What is it boys?" Dean barked the question as his body snapped back into motion. He beat Cas to the stairs. The other man was trying to avoid further sullying the dead. The flicker of an overhead light led him down a pair of rickety stairs. At the bottom he could see one of the two men, gun raised and pointed down towards something. A body?

Dean frowned, stopping beside him "She's alive." The other man said. He was kneeling beside the motionless mound.

She?

Cas was quick to join them, he stood silently behind Dean. They had a survivor? This was new. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the dim light but once it did he saw it more clearly. There was a woman there, curled up in a fetal position on the floor. Amongst the broken shelves and strewn papers. "I'm gonna move her." The red-headed man muttered under his breath. Castiel went to step forward to assist but Dean held his arm out, motioning for him to stay put. The man cautiously put his gun down, placing his hands on the still figures shoulder. The other three stood watch as he carefully turned her onto her back. Her head rolled to the side, long and tangled black hair matted to her face.

"What are we going to do with her?" Castiel asked. Dean wasn't listening. That face. He knew that face. Even underneath all the dirt and what he assumed was blood. He never forgot a woman. "Dean?"

He ignored Castiel, crouching down on the other side of the woman. The hand that wasn't gripping the sawed off shot gun reached out, deft fingers moving hair away. "She look familiar to you Cas?" His eyes stayed locked on the woman's face as he asked the question. Busy surveying the injuries and wondering how the hell it was possible. The dark haired man hesitantly stepped forward, stopping at her feet.

"Did you sleep with her?" He instantly regretted making the joke because if looks could actually kill he would have joined the unconscious woman on the floor. Dean shot him a withering gaze, nodding towards her head. "Right…um. Actually, now that you mention it. She kind of looks like that reaper." He said with a shrug.

"Kind of?" Dean cocked an eyebrow. "Try exactly. " Was it even possible? How could she be there? He was sure that none of them were dead. They shouldn't have been able to see her. The dead and numerous other things saw reapers. In the room though there wasn't a single angel, demon or ghost (that he was aware of) Castiel's wings had been clipped long ago and all of his men had a working anti-protection symbol engraved somewhere on their person.

"You know her?" The red-haired man looked skeptical. He posed the question carefully. It couldn't be anyone else. No, everything was exact. Her hair was longer than the last time he had seen her, but he was sure. Dean ignored the question. The answer should have already been obvious.

"You done with the basement?" He asked. The two who had been sent down nodded. "Go clear out the back of the supply truck. Someone put down blankets. We're taking her with us." The other men looked shocked, eve Castiel. No one dared argue though. The red-head and and the other quickly jogged back up the stairs, leaving Castiel and himself with the body.

"So we're taking a strange, unconscious woman back to camp with us. Normal day, huh Dean?" Sometimes he genuinely wished that Castiel hadn't developed such a strong sense of sarcasm. It was irritating at times.

Dean nodded. "It's Tessa, by the way." Castiel paused, hand rubbing his chin.

"As in the Tessa? Death's favorite employee?" Both men looked back down at her. Stranger things had happened. He was willing to bet a few limbs that it was her. How it was her, he didn't know. That was Castiel's department. They'd figured that part out later. For now, they needed to get out of there – and she was going with them.

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