Cas had always liked Chinese food. He gained an acquired taste to it during his years hunting with Dean and it found its way to be on his top ten list of favorite foods. Unfortunately, like most of his favorite foods, it ultimately went extinct when the Croatoan virus broke out.

Considering his younger form never ate, never drank, he admitted he must've looked out of place as he swallowed another mouthful of sweet and sour pork. "Mmm…"

Dean was rubbing his forehead. "This… this is weird. Even for us."

"Very," Castiel agreed. He was standing in the far corner of the motel room, staring at his future-self with quiet curiosity. "I don't see the point of why you are here."

Cas shrugged. "I don't understand it, either. One moment I was dying, getting eaten alive by croats and the next thing I knew, I'm here. Whole and unravished. Well, whole again," he wagged his eyebrows at Dean who immediately blushed at the implication. At his counter-part's confusion, he elaborated. "Women like us."

Castiel shifted uncomfortably, though said nothing.

Cas's gaze eventually went over to Sam, who'd been unusually quiet during the whole thing.

Cas never hated Sam, but never really liked him either. To him, Sam was Dean's brother, the boy with the demon blood and that was it. He was never his friend or an ally and even when Cas was on the run from heaven and had to rely on the help of the Winchesters, he always placed more trust in Dean than Sam.

Still, Cas can't deny he had come to know Sam. Know his likes, his dislikes, his quirks, his humor, his ideals. He'd come to recognize that when Sam goes quiet, it means he's really upset. "Sammy," Cas smirked when that got an annoyed jerk out of the boy. "You've been awful quiet."

"I think it's because we're all avoiding the reality here," Sam said darkly. "You, being here, confirms it."

"Confirms what?"

"That I say yes to Lucifer."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean immediately stood from his chair, his hands up as if trying to calm a man with a gun. "This doesn't confirm nothing."

"Yes it does, Dean!" Sam protested. "You saw the future! Right now, here? This is the past. Even you went into the past, you couldn't change anything! If future-Cas is here, then that means this is fate."

"So what the hell does that mean, huh? What, are you going to say yes to Satan just because it's fate?"

"No!" Sam shot up from his seat, ran a hair through his hair. "But future-me did! Maybe something forces me or… Cas," he turned to former angel. "Do you know why I…?"

Cas sucked the front of his teeth. He stole a quick glance at Castiel before looking back at Sam. "No," he said, taking a swing of beer. "Nobody does. Not even your brother."

"The future isn't written in stone, Sam," Castiel stepped forward, slightly glaring at his older-self. "The time line is always in motion, always in flux. Even Chuck, the prophet, could not foresee my rebellion. And besides, like Dean said, his being here proves nothing."

That actually threw Cas. One of the advantages of being your own future is that you basically know everything your past has done. So Cas was confident in knowing what Castiel was about to say or why. This time, he didn't know why. "Oh?" He grinned, bringing the bottle back to his lips. "Why is that?"

"You may not be real."

The bottle stopped right before it reached his lips. Cas set the bottle down, his eyes narrowing. "Shit," he said. "I hadn't thought of that."

Dean was rubbing his forehead again. "What does that mean?"

"It means what it means," Cas said darkly. He suddenly lost his appetite. "I may just be a product of Zachariah's creativity. I have memories, I have my own thoughts, but they're no different than the fake ones he produced for you and Sam during that time you worked at that company."

"Zachariah could've made him as easily as he made you believe you didn't have a brother," Castiel told him.

"So, is he a threat?" Sam pointed to Cas, to which he gave a short indignant 'hey!' "I mean, can Zachariah find us now?"

Castiel's eyes drifted upwards, his mouth tightening in concentration. He was quiet for a few long moments. "No," he said finally. "If he was being watched, I would know. He is here, on his own."

"Hey!" Cas said suddenly, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. "Stop talking about me like I'm not even here."

Castiel didn't miss a beat. "Technically, you're not," he turned to Dean. "I'm going to gather information. I'll be in touch." And with that, he was gone.

Cas angrily lifted up the beer bottle, taking a hard short drink. He didn't know what to expect from his past-self, but the passive anger towards him was low on his list. Dean looked at him. "What's your problem?"

"What?"

"I mean, his problem. Cas's. You know, other-you."

"It's amazing you lived this long," Cas shook his head. "I don't know. It's been a long time since I've been…" he waved a hand in the empty space his past-self stood in. "Like that. So who the hell knows."

"Seems perfectly logical to me," Sam muttered. "I mean, I turn into Lucifer and Dean turns into a cold-blooded killer. We both turn into people we don't like," he shrugged. "Maybe Castiel didn't like how he turned out either."

()

A/N: You guys are so awesome. The only reason I've been putting out these chapters so fast is because it's been snowing like the dickens here on the east coast of the US. I haven't been to work or school in nearly a week because of the icy roads. Also, this fic is so much fun to write. R/R, please!