Mirror Images
Chapter Two
The second the weapon went off, Sam Winchester's instinctive reaction was to move but a quick after thought warned him that if he did the bullet might strike his still tied friend. Refusing to risk Morgan being harmed any worse than she had been already, he took a step forward to make sure the round struck him and silently wondered if Lucifer would bring him back from a gunshot wound when the bullet suddenly seemed to freeze in midair then dropped.
"Huh?" Sam blinked at that since he knew he hadn't done that when the older looking man with his brother's face and attitude seemed to scowl.
"Shit," 'Dean' muttered, hard green eyes narrowing. "I didn't think you could do that with the drug in your system."
Realizing who he was speaking to, the younger Winchester turned just enough to see that while Morgan's eyes were only partly open and glassy, her nose was bleeding. A sign that he remembered from his childhood and realized that she was pushing her abilities.
"Remember…when you said…that I couldn't use my powers on Dean?" she forced out between clenched teeth, clearly having problems staying focused and breathing until she felt the light touch of Sam's hand on her shoulder and knew there would only be one shot at this. "That rule…goes out the window…so long as Sam's here, genuis."
Making her head move despite the heaviness and the pounding between her ears, Morgan's eyes flashed with one solid burst of energy that took the 'Dean' from 2014 off his feet. Smashing him into the heavy armoire across the room before she gasped in pain, feeling the shift in her nervous system to know something was wrong which meant she needed to get Sam out of here.
"We need to go," Sam didn't like not dealing with the man since he knew he was still a threat but he was more concerned with freeing Morgan and getting her out of the line of fire. "I'll get you out and then…what?" he asked after dropping back to his knees to quickly finish cutting the ropes when he saw her weakly shake her head. "Morgan, what's…"
"Go, Sam," she told him tightly, not liking the numbness in her hands right then even as Sam was jerking the ropes off while tearing his attention between her and this other 'Dean'. "Sam, you need to go...before it's too late."
Jerking the final rope free, Sam was quick to catch her as Morgan seemed to fall against him and he noticed the way her hands were trembling and also how cold and clammy her skin was. "I'm not leaving you," he argued, recognizing that she was trying to shield him. "Dean'll kill me if anything happens to you and he's actually back in the mood where Bobby doesn't want to shoot him every five seconds so…"
Knowing the threat to Sam was from more than just a time displaced older version his brother, she struggled to make him understand that he needed to leave but the burning pain was making it hard to talk and handling any Winchester when he was being stubborn was nearly impossible when she was feeling good. "Sammy…the drug…I can't feel and…oh, God…"
Hearing a groan from across the room told Sam his time was running out. He knew all he needed was to get Morgan out of the house, call Castiel for help and was just starting to lift his friend up when he saw her eyes roll back a millisecond before the first seizure seemed to come from nowhere. "Morgan!"
Not expecting the seizure or how violently the young woman was shaking, Sam fought panic as he quickly lifted her up, kicked the chair out of the way to lay her on the bed, but then went blank in what he should do next. His brother had more experience in dealing with Morgan if she was hurt. Recalling a friend of Jessica's who had suffered from seizures, Sam tried to think of what he should do but panic was making his forget the most important thing. The man who had been responsible for this in the first place.
"Damn, I didn't know she'd figured out that loophole," 'Dean' groaned, shaking his head when something made him look up and stop. "Sam?"
Keeping one hand on Morgan in order to try to keep her calm and still, Sam pulled the gun he carried and swung around to face the older version of his brother. "What the hell did you give her?" he demanded harshly, panic making him seem years younger and realizing he'd have to drop the gun if her wanted to try to keep Morgan from hurting herself more. "Dean's going to kill me way before you do over this," he muttered, swearing under his breath, laying the gun on the nightstand in order to have both hands free as he tried to remember his most basic first aid class. "Damn it! Morgan, calm down! I…don't know how to stop this. What…"
Picking himself up from the floor, 'Dean' took the scene in and quickly realized what must have happened. "Sonuvabitch," he swore bitterly, watching as Sam struggled to keep Morgan still but knew the kid was close to panicking. "It was only a narcotic from my time but…"
"Morgan isn't from your time!" Sam shouted, dragging a hand through his hair, which immediately took it from how he had it swept back to right back into his face like he used to wear it. "She's still hurt and weak! Whatever it is, she can't handle it, and it's killing her! Dean could stop this," he muttered to himself, almost forgetting the other man in the room as his panic took him back to the times in his life that his big brother was only a shout away. "Morgan! Hang on! I'll make it stop…I…"
Considering the gun he'd picked up from the floor, 'Dean' knew he could easily shoot right now and finish his task because this younger Sammy was lost in his fear and confusion and had completely forgotten how much danger he was in.
He aimed the pistol carefully while letting his finger slid toward the trigger until the panicked whispers finally reached him and he realized Sam was begging for help. He was begging his brother for help. Eyes firm, he watched this young man struggle to stop the violent convulsions that the drug was causing Morgan to go through and it wasn't until he noticed Sam use the back of his jacket sleeve to wipe his face that he felt something inside him soften.
This wasn't his brother but it could've been five years earlier before 'Dean's' own bitterness had shoved the final wedge between them. He could still recall his little brother as a kid, the panicked look in Sam's eyes now and the way he was struggling to save his friend brought back more memories than he cared for. It was when he finally listened to the boy's urgent pleas for his friend to hold on, that his brother would help her if she could just hold on that he swore under his breath and moved toward the bed.
"It'll be okay, Morg," Sam was talking rapidly, keeping his hands on her shoulders to try to keep her still as he tried to ignore the gasps for air his friend was making when he felt the bed shift. "No! You don't touch her!" he warned, moving to try to shield her from the man who he blamed for this when he found himself hauled over the bed to come within an inch of the other man's face.
"Sam! Listen to me!" 'Dean' snapped, seeing the boy's fear and understanding it. "I can stop this but you have to let me touch Morgan to do it," he told him, sighing as his harder tone seemed to just make Sam more defensive. "Sam…"
Trying to shove the older man away from his friend, Sam's head exploded when a fist connected with the side of it and he fell back to land on the floor. "You caused this!" he accused bitterly, missing the brief flash of pain that crossed the other 'Dean's' face as he tried to move to keep him from touching Morgan but blinked in confusion as something was shoved into his hands. "What?"
Knowing the seizures had been going on too long and had to be stopped soon, 'Dean' had quickly pulled his belt free to toss it to a confused Sam. "Put it in her mouth," he snapped before moving his hands to slid under Morgan's head. "Now, Sam!"
"No…she's frightened," Sam argued, closing his hands into fists around the worn leather. "I…you can't gag her, not like this. It'll being back…"
Swearing under his breath, 'Dean' sat on the bed fully but had to turn his eyes to meet Sam's since he knew that was the only way to make him understand. "Sammy! She's seizing!" he made his voice sharper than he knew this time's Dean probably would but knew he was out of time. "The belt will keep Morgan from biting her tongue. As soon as I get these stopped, you can take it out or wrap it around my throat."
It made sense to the part of Sam that could still think logically so with a pained look and a silent apology, he put the leather belt between Morgan's teeth as carefully as he could manage while finally noticing what 'Dean' was doing. "Dean…did that once to a boy in school," he muttered, sitting on the other side of the bed to watch closely.
"Even though I'm beginning to think that time isn't the only thing that's different now, I'm sure your Dean and I share memories of the past. Which means Pastor Jim taught him how to handle someone having a seizure," 'Dean' remarked in a tight voice, concentrating hard since it had been a long time since he'd had to do something like this as his let his hands curl around Morgan's neck until his fingers found the correct nerves to touch. ""Shh, just relax. It'll be over soon," he lowered his voice into a tone that he'd forgotten he'd known how to use as his strong fingers dug into soft nerves to begin squeezing them in a methodical manner until he felt the young woman's convulsions slowly begin to ease. "Sammy's with you and he's safe."
'Dean' knew Morgan would be scared for Sam. He knew that was why she was fighting so hard against the seizures since she knew that Sam was in danger. "He's safe from me, Morgan." he assured her, looking closer at her right arm and swearing violently under his breath when he noticed the swollen red and blue needle track that marred her arm. "Sam, in my coat pocket, get out that other damn syringe and show it to me."
"What? Why?" relaxing more now that Morgan seemed to be calming down, Sam still wasn't ready to fully trust this stranger but something in his tone reminded him of his own brother's 'about to be highly pissed off' voice. Keeping a cautious eye on the man, Sam reached into the pocket he'd indicated to remove a syringe with a reddish looking liquid inside. "This?"
Glancing over to give a quick look, 'Dean' felt his temper shoot back up but covered it barely as he continued to squeeze the hard nerves and muscles in Morgan's neck and shoulders that had seized up in the convulsion until he felt them begin to loosen and he heard her whimper under his hands. "It's okay," he murmured, moving one hand to the side of her face in time to see her eyes starting to flicker under long lashes. "Sammy's right beside you and he'll keep you safe," he soothed, feeling the cautious gaze of the young hunter watching him even as he held out a hand for the needle. "Give it to me."
"No," Sam refused, not willing to trust the man with the needle until he saw the anger in his eyes but somehow knew it wasn't directed at either him or Morgan. "What is this?"
"Good question, Sammy," 'Dean' snorted, again holding his hand out for the needle and as soon as it was placed hesitantly in his grasp he moved away from them with it. "Son of a bitch!" he hissed, holding it up to the window to allow the sun to shine through it. "I am so going to kill that goddamn fat arrogant Angel the next time I see him," he growled, tossing the amber filled syringe into the trashcan. "I don't expect you to believe me but this isn't the drug I brought with me, Sam. That was clear and it should only have knocked her out for a couple hours. Believe it or not, I'd taken into account that this time's Morgan would be weaker than what I was used to. This…this isn't what I brought and…"
Moving up so that he'd be closer to Morgan when she curled onto her side like he knew she would, Sam's gaze held the other man's for a long moment. Now that he was calming down, he began to think more and also notice more about this older, more harder version of his brother. "Zachariah didn't just send Dean five years into the future, did he?" he asked quietly. "It was…what? An alternate future that may or may not happen?"
"I don't know, Sam," 'Dean' admitted, seeing the younger man tense when he picked up his pistol but after a quick look just shoved it back under his jacket. "I know that Dean had every knife, blade, and lockpick that I carry and he had plenty of the scars that I had…but some things were different," he glanced at his left hand before looking back at Sam. "I still wore my wedding band and his ring finger on that hand didn't even have a mark so…"
"Dean and Morgan are still in the getting to know each other without killing each other stage," Sam replied, feeling his friend move uneasily on the bed and unsure if she was restless due to the attack or something else but pleased that she relaxed a little when he let his hand rest over hers. "My brother still has trouble saying how he feels for her. She was away from us for fifteen years."
'Dean' turned from fingering a file on the house to stare at Sam, surprise evident. "Then that's where your Dean and I differ because I went after Morgan right after you…my Sam left for school. Dad and I weren't hunting together and I…besides my brother she was all that I loved so…" he shrugged, eyes softening as they gazed at the sleeping young woman. "Hell, I'd forgotten what it was like to be this young until I saw Dean in my time and now…her and you. Sam…" he turned serious as he approached the bed. "Even though this or my time might be things that could happen…in my time you let Lucifer take you and the world went to Hell. I…if there's a way to stop that from happening here or to my time then…you know I have to try, don't you?"
Body tensing, Sam guessed he should've been expecting this since any version of his brother wasn't going to let something go this easily. "Zachariah brought you back to life, brought you to our time, probably sent you right to Morgan's door for a reason, D…Dean," he had a hard time using that name when something flashed in his memory and he froze. "I saw you," he whispered, eyes going wide as memories that he'd been struggling with for weeks finally came back vividly. "You've been back in this time since Zach pulled that stunt in West Virginia. I saw you, didn't I?"
"Kinda hoped you didn't remember that, Sam," the older man murmured, sitting down on the chest at the bottom of the bed. He stayed where he could see the boy's face and actually hating the mixture of sick shock and fear he found reflected in large hazel eyes that once again reminded him of the brother he'd lost long before Lucifer took his body. "Yeah, Zachariah brought me to this time and wanted me to see his little plan. I…saw what they did to you, Sammy but I swear if I had known that he had hurt her I would've ganked his ass then and there."
While Sam had recovered mostly from the events of a few weeks earlier, he still had some issues that he tried to keep his brother from knowing were bothering him. This revelation bothered him a lot and he seemed to move closer to Morgan on both instinct and caution. "So…why didn't you kill me there?" he wondered, hearing what sounded like noises from downstairs but knowing they were alone in the house. "It would've been easier than hurting her or…"
"Yeah, it would've been," 'Dean' agreed, not having a good answer to why he hadn't except for the one he talked himself into. "I wanted you to know why it was happening, Sam. I wouldn't have hurt you there after I saw what they…" he stopped to narrow a hard look at the younger man. "You did tell Dean, right?"
"Dean hates Zachariah for a lot of other crap without him knowing everything else, dude," Sam returned shortly, coughing. "You can try to kill me but I won't make it easy on you and I won't leave her defenseless," he declared firmly, not knowing how he'd handle this since he knew he couldn't get his brother involved in the condition he was in.
Looking between them, the older Dean considered his next few options silently. Watching Sam hover as Morgan slept reminded him of his little brother and the way the two of them would drive him nuts since if Dean wasn't getting one out of trouble then it would be the other. However, he could rarely recall the good times without remembering that last dark night when he'd vowed to stop Lucifer or die trying. A deathbed promise was one thing he'd grown up with but a graveside promise was the one he couldn't break and he'd sworn on Morgan's grave that he'd make damn certain their future never happened if he ever had the chance.
"Sam…" he began to speak when the whole house seemed to shake an instant before it sounded like every window shattered with a scream that made 'Dean' cringe at the high pitch sound. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, turning to stare at the door and reaching for the sub-machine gun on instinct.
The sound seemed to cause Morgan's restless sleep to become even more so as she jerked violently but didn't wake as both men watched to be sure the convulsions hadn't returned. "Stay here with her while I go check it out," Sam declared, reaching for the weapon he'd discarded earlier as he stood to look between his uneasy friend and this man who a part of Sam knew was too much like his own brother. "Touch her, hurt her and I'll make you bleed before I die," he warned, wondering if he should mention that Lucifer wouldn't let him die that easy anyway but decided against it for the moment in favor of finding out what was making the noises downstairs.
"Kid still has your attitude I see," 'Dean' grumbled, always blaming his brother's attitude on Morgan's influence but it amused him to hear the threat in the boy's voice especially when he knew Sam was putting the brave front on for her sake. Kid was scared of him and not just for the threat to life and limb he posed but because of what he believed he knew. "Damn you Zachariah," he cursed bitterly, not liking the way this was turning out since only the arrogant Angel could've have changed the syringes he had and that meant that he'd intended for Morgan to be hurt. He just couldn't figure out why.
Hurting Sam he could see the point but the only thing that taking Morgan out of the picture would cause was Dean's instant reaction…not that he wasn't going to blow up the second he learned of Sam's death anyway. "Assuming I can kill him in a way that Lucifer won't bring him back from," 'Dean' muttered, listening as another scream tore through the house just as the shutters on the bedroom window slammed shut. "What the hell?" he asked again, going over to open the window only to find it jammed shut. "Oookay, this is so not good."
"You…think, genuis?"
Turning, he found Morgan's eyes were partially opened but still glassy as if in shock and pain. "I'm guessing the windows locking by themselves isn't a normal thing, right?" he asked, moving toward the bed and not missing how she tensed as he sat on the edge of the bed beside her. "Don't move," he advised, still not liking how pale she seemed or the way her right hand trembled or the highly erratic pulse he felt when he touched her wrist.
"Where's…Sammy?" Morgan demanded, having to make her eyes focus to bring just one of the older 'Dean's' into view but not liking the vibes in the house, trying to jerk her wrist free when his fingers gripped it tighter to feel her pulse. "Let…go, please."
It was the soft fear he heard in the last word that made him release her hand, his normal hard gaze softening as he looked at her and seeing both the fear of him and her concern for Sam. "I'm not going to hurt you," he told her, figuring if she was stronger he'd get a dark look and an eye roll that could rival Sammy's best bitch face but right then all she did was watch him with tired eyes that tore the heart he thought couldn't be hurt anymore. "Morgan, the drug in that needle wasn't what I thought it was. I don't know if Zach switched it or…"
"Where is Sam?" she demanded, ignoring his attempt to explain and refusing the fear that the Angel's name brought since right then she only had one concern and that was getting Sam Winchester the hell out of this house before… "What time is it?"
"Huh?" surprised at the sudden change in question, 'Dean' glanced toward a wind-up clock on the nightstand. "A little after midnight now, why? Whoa…whoa, where the hell d'ya think you're going?" he demanded, catching her when she went to roll out of the bed only to nearly fall. "Morgan! You had a damn seizure. You aren't going to be moving anywhere until you rest some or…what?" something in her now wide eyes warned him of a danger that he hadn't been expecting. "Sam went to check downstairs for…damn it!"
Morgan tried to shove his hands away in order to get free of the bed quickly but was too weak and disoriented to do anything but fall back against his chest, struggling weakly when his arms closed around her to keep her still as panic set in. "No! You don' understand," she whispered, exhausted suddenly even as the sound of a shotgun going off made them both look toward the door. "Sammy!"
Between the shotgun blast and the pure panic he heard in her voice, this 'Dean' didn't have to guess that something very wrong was happening. He just had to figure out what the hell it was first. "Shh, take it easy. Sam'll be fine. He probably just found a rat to shoot at or…" he easily restrained the young woman but was careful not to frighten her as he laid her back on the pillows, his concern doubling when she stayed still and only grabbed his hands. "Morgan? What's wrong? Why were you in this house and…"
"Witch," she whispered, voice slurring as shock from the drug and the seizure took its toll but needing to make him understand. "House…cursed. File's…on the dresser," Morgan tried to motion when a loud bang shook the house and a scream was heard but this one made 'Dean' go cold and he grabbed for Morgan before she could move. "Help…Sammy, please."
Torn between finishing what he'd come here for and just walking out, 'Dean' found that he still couldn't look at the fear in her eyes without giving in. Grabbing the file off the dresser, he leafed through it with eyes and skills that hadn't had to handle this sort of crap in years but found himself growing cold the further he read until finally he threw the file into the air.
"Who the hell buys a house built on Indian burial ground, that had a witch burned in the back yard before she cursed the whole damn place?" he demanded loudly, snatching a piece of paper before it could fall. "Every fifty years this house becomes Amityville for twenty-four hours and you decide to be here for it? Ex-cuse me, when exactly did your brain stop working because even the Dean of this time would know this was such a damn bad idea and I bet he didn't know anything about it, did he?" he finally finished yelling only to see a mild dark look being aimed at him. "God! Now I know why Sammy said you and Dean were only at the getting to know one another again stage without killing one another. You're as bullheaded as he is…or I am and…" 'Dean' drew off finally when he caught her chewing her bottom lip. "I'm supposed to be here to kill that kid! Why the hell would I want to stop a cursed witch's house from doing for me?"
Ignoring his yelling, Morgan's biggest concern was for Sam since she refused to allow him to be hurt in another one of her mistakes. "Because he's Sammy," she murmured, hoping that would be enough for even him and fighting the numbing cold she still felt. "Where you…come from…before it went wrong…you had Sammy. Was it so bloody different that you'd…leave him alone when he's still hurt…and afraid?" she asked, managing to find his hand to try to grip it much like she would her Dean but wasn't aware enough to feel when his fingers moved to hold hers. "Please…I promised Dean to look out for Sam when…he was with me. No one hurts…"
"…our Sammy," 'Dean' finished that quote softly, forcing the painful lump in his throat away to brush his hand across her cheek to feel the fever and knowing that if he hadn't used that damn drug on her then she would've been able to warn Sam of the threat earlier. "Damn you, Morgan," he blew out a breath as a scream that his once sharp hunter's senses could now tell was that of the witch once again rattled the locked windows. "I'll find Sam for you and I'll see you both out of this damn house in one piece but after that I won't promise anything," he replied firmly, seeing her nod before going limp as sleep once again pulled her under. "I never could say no to you, Angel," he murmured, leaning down to softly kiss her forehead. "If I see Dean again I really need to tell him that he should learn how to."
Looking around the bedroom, he found a couple things that would come in handy until he found Sam. "Guess my guns sure won't work here," he muttered, picking up the sawed-off shotgun that was laying on a duffel of other assorted gear for hunting spirits or the like and checking the chamber to see it was already loaded with rock salt rounds. "Shit, it's been too long since I've gone after a damn ghost or witch and I really hate witches," 'Dean' grumbled, pocketing extra rounds before stepping out of the bedroom. And only thought to step back to use the box of salt he'd also grabbed to salt the bedroom threshold in order to offer Morgan some protection until he could get Sam back to her and make a plan.
Growing up a hunter, 'Dean' found it odd how easy it was to step back to his roots as he started to look for Sam. He hadn't had to worry about hunting spirits, witches, vampires, Shritgas or anything like that since the whole Apocalypse happened and he lost his brother to Lucifer. His biggest worry was keeping his small band of survivors alive against the zombie-people the Croatoan virus created.
Now back five years in a past that might not even be responsible for his time and he found himself skulking around a haunted and cursed house in Massachusetts looking for the spirit of a witch and a boy he'd come to kill all because he was still a damn sucker for big blue eyes.
A crash from below him had him picking up his pace as he started down the steps to the first floor a second before he caught movement from the corner of his eye and he found Sam Winchester.
Struggling to stay upright after having just been tossed around the living room and having his head slammed against the stone fireplace, his one arm was hanging limp after being dislocated when the pissed off spirit who had locked the house down threw him down the broken basement steps. Now he was trying to reach his weapon where it laid in the foyer only to find the witch's spirit behind him with a knife ready to plunge into his heart and no back-up or big brother to save him this time.
"DIE!" came the high pitched scream as the knife flew toward him even as he was thrown and pinned against the wall with no chance of escape.
TBC
A/N: Hmm, poor Sam can't catch a break, can he? Will he save himself or will future Dean save Sammy only to kill him? What is Zachariah's master plan that he would arrange all of this? Is it just to help future Dean avert his own horrid timeline or does Zach have an even bigger plan in motion that he needed both Sam and Morgan dealt with to accomplish? Check out CH 3 for those answers…or and also how Dean reacts when he finds out both his car and his brother aren't where they should be.
