Sidewinder.
Lawrence, Kansas.
Mary Winchester heard Baby Sam crying so she instinctually went into the nursery to check on him. Leaning over the crib, she noticed an odd dark spot near Sam's mouth - was that blood? She went to wipe it off when she caught a silhouette out of the side of her eye. Mary spun around and was met with an intense pair of yellow eyes. Suddenly she felt herself thrashed back against the wall.
Adult Sam stepped out of the opposite shadows. "Not this time Azazel," he said. The demon stepped out of the shadows to attack but Sam put his hand up. The demon doubled over, coughing out bits of black smoke. Sam concentrated. Brows furrowed with sweat forming. The effort needed was tremendous but his concentration never wavered. Not as the pain throbbed up his arm and into his heart. Not as his nose started dripping blood. Not as his own eyes flipped beetle black.
Sam expelled the demon from its host and watched as it sank through the floorboards and back down to hell. Satisfied with his work, Sam turned to his mother. She smiled nervously, still backed against the wall. Sam did not smile back.
"This time," he said. "I'll take care of her myself." Hand back up. A scream.
Sam snapped awake in a cold sweat. Nononononono, he thought. An adult temper tantrum as he tried to banish the thoughts - vision? - from his head. The nightmares were getting worse. The sun was barely up but Sam would not be going back to bed. Just as he would not be going back to the demon blood. He hadn't seen any demons since Joey was possessed the week before but he was sure they were watching. He was in danger but at least he knew it. His family had no idea. There had to be another way to stop the demon. Sam knew of one.
Happy house of Winchester.
Later that same day, the Winchester family was eating dinner. John sat at the head of the table while Mary sat across from him, feeding baby Sam a bottle. Young Dean was between them pushing his vegetables out of the way in favor of the steak and mashed potatoes. And across from Dean sat Sam - the adult version - trying to enjoy this odd family dinner. He'd turned down their invite for a week, afraid of creating a paradox. But while Sam couldn't stop staring at his baby self the youngin barely paid attention to anything besides his bottle, his parents, and his diaper. Convinced a wormhole wasn't tearing a hole through the universe, Sam relaxed.
The headaches had started two days before. Sam knew the visions were coming if they hadn't started already. Azazel was getting closer while Sam was still piecing things together. After the demon within Joey had visited him Sam was struggling with how to proceed. His desire to rid the world of the yellow-eyed demon burned strong as ever. His fear of what might come after added an element of hesitation. Sam needed to talk to someone. A hunter. Unfortunately he had no idea where hunters congregated in 1983. Fortunately he knew someone who would know.
After dinner Sam and John sat out on the porch with little Dean while Mary put baby Sam to sleep. Sam found it as uncomfortable as ever to talk to his Dad, especially now with a giant lie between them. John tried talking baseball with Sam. The Royals were in 2nd place in the AL West behind the efforts of Paul Splittorff. Sam wasn't interested. He steered the conversation back towards John - where he'd grown up, what he did before meeting Mary, what it was like having kids, etc. John wove the tale of his plans to take his sons on a road trip as soon as they were old enough. He had no idea how true that would become.
Eventually Dean's eyes grew heavy and it was John's turn to put a child to bed. He left Mary and Sam outside while he took his oldest son upstairs. It was the moment Sam had been waiting for. He took a moment to compose himself. His leg compulsively shook. His face twisted. Sam tried to make himself relax.
"Mo...Mary," Sam began. "I met your Dad once." Lie. "It was on a hunt actually." Lie. "A, um, ghost hunt."
Mary's eyes grew wide.
"I decided to give all that up a long time ago. But my brother, he kept going on without me. I haven't seen him in years. I'd like to find him again. Do you...know of any hunter gathering places around here? Anywhere I might be able to ask someone?"
"Don't you dare say a word about this to John," Mary shot back.
"Nononono," Sam insisted. "I wouldn't. I just thought maybe you could help."
Mary pursed her lips and considered things for a moment. "Olathe. There's a hotel there called the Rattlesnake with a bar called Sidewinders. And those are the people that go there. Haven't been myself in years but Daddy used to hear about jobs there."
Olathe, Kansas.
Sam had used his wages from the shop so far to buy a truck off John. It was an International, blue, with a short bed and a loud muffler. It fit right in as he pulled up to the hotel. Two gentlemen in jeans, Carhartts and baseball caps watched Sam's every move as he exited the truck. He felt himself being watched and nodded in their general direction. They gave him the hairy eyeball in return. He skipped the main lobby and went right into the bar where he was met with more staredowns. Unable to choose a pair of eyes to meet, Sam headed to the safety of the bar.
The bartender sauntered over. Sam ordered a beer and tried to push away all the negative vibes that were swarming him and causing his shoulders to hunch. When the bartender came back Sam struck up a conversation.
"I hear this is a place with people who know things," Sam said, laying down a $50 as his tip. The bartender sniffed and palmed the bill.
"Yeah, we know some things here," the bartender said. "But we're a real tight-knit community, you know? And I've never seen you."
"I'm kinda new to the game," Sam lied. "I've been chasing after something for awhile though and a hunter told me you might be able to help." Sam leaned in, hoping that mentioning a hunter generically would suffice.
The bartender leaned in too. He sensed the bullshit. "Who?"
Sam gulped. Here goes nothing. "Bill Harvelle."
The bartender leaned back, sizing up Sam for a few moments. Then his face eased up. "Really? How is old Bill doing?"
Sam relaxed. He probably owed his life to a man he'd never met and two sassy women (one of whom was not yet born). "Good, you know. Good old Bill!"
"Alright, what have you been chasing?"
"A demon with yellow eyes," Sam said. "I think I have its location squared away but this guy isn't easy to take out. I've heard stories that there's a gun that should do the trick. Trouble is no one knows where it is..."
Sam took out a picture of the Colt hand-drawn from memory. That would be of course Samuel Colt's own handmade gun. The one that opened the gate to hell in Wyoming when Jake put the key in. The one that Sam used to shoot Azazel; far too late though. This was his opportunity to start it all before it began.
"That gun?" The bartender sussed. "Never seen it. Never heard of it either." Sam sensed a lie but wasn't about to make an enemy. He leaned back and took a sip of beer. The bartender moved on down the line and Sam scratched his head, annoyed.
"I've seen that gun," Sam heard to his left. He looked over to an older man wearing a plaid overcoat, long greasy hair practically covering his eyes and a goatee that hadn't been trimmed in months.
"You have? Do you know where it is?" Sam asked intently. The man nodded.
"Yeah, but you're gonna have a really hard time getting to it," the hunter said. "Name's Joe. Joe Brown." They shook hands and Sam introduced himself, real name this time. "About 10 months ago a hunter got a hold of the Colt after taking care of some vengeful spirits out in Iowa. They seemed to want it real bad so he wanted to keep it away from them all. Didn't know what it was for, didn't know what it could do."
"Come on, Dad, quit boring the guy with your old tall tales," said a younger man to Joe's left.
"And this here is my son, David." The young men nodded to each other.
Sam waited expectantly. "So, where is it now?"
"In Dubuque. Buried in a safe bout 20 feet below the ground. The thing's completely booby-trapped too."
Sam's face fell. He shook his head. These things were never easy, were they? "Maybe I could talk to the hunter. Where is he?"
"No one's seen the guy in over a month." Joe said. Sam nodded ruefully. Of course.
"So how do you know about the place?" Sam asked.
Joe smiled and got a little twinkle in his eye. "Cause I helped him hide the damn thing."
"Really?" Sam said.
"You're not the first one to ask about it either. Second one this week in fact."
"Really." Sam said again, face falling even further. The Browns shot each other a look.
"What is so special about that gun anyway?" David asked.
"They say it can kill demons in one shot," Sam explained. "And I'm hunting one powerful demon. Who else was asking about it?"
"Some lady. Looked about your age. That was what, about two weeks ago? Three?" Joe asked his son. David nodded. Three weeks would have been right before Sam arrived. He wondered who the lady was. Didn't seem like these hunters knew her.
"Well, don't twist our legs too hard!" said Joe after a minute of silence. He slapped Sam on the back. "We'll help you out son."
"Great," Sam said as he came back to reality, surprised. "Great!"
The Browns started introducing Sam around to the rest of the hunters. A little while later Sam was done making small talk. He was eager to get on the road. He agreed to follow the Browns to Dubuque since they'd go their own separate ways after. He headed out to the parking lot but noticed something wrong with his truck. The tires - both ride sides had been slashed.
"Oh come on!" Sam said, kicking one.
"Sorry boy, we weren't sure who you were," one of the hunters called out to him. "There's a gas station right up the road, we'll get you fixed first thing in the morning."
Whether he liked it or not Sam was spending the night at the Rattlesnake Inn.
Dubuque, Iowa.
Delayed until daybreak, Sam and the Browns hit the road as soon as they could. They drove along Route 20 towards Dubuque until they hit the road Joe had written down for him - North Cascade Road. They passed by several farms until he saw the right one. It had a yellow farm house, and to the East set back about 200 yards was a blue barn with a yellow roof, save two black metal sheets. Sam followed the Browns as they drove down the gravel path to the barn.
Sam parked next to the Browns. Joe didn't look happy when he got out of his truck. "Something ain't right," he said. The three men trotted up to the barn. The metal padlock had been broken off and the door had been slid open at one point. David motioned for them to go to the side door.
Once inside Joe flipped a switch. Three overhead lights buzzed to life. Sam noticed plenty of sharp objects lining the walls, from sickles to mower blades to a chainsaw.
For a moment Sam channeled Dean, and popped out a gem: "Good thing these guys keep all their sharp objects in one place!"
Both Browns turned back to give him a dirty look. Sam fake laughed and clapped his hands together. And then he clammed up. And then the smell hit him. None too pleasant. He noticed a dark stain along the concrete floor of the barn - blood. He moved towards it to see if it was recent but David grabbed him from behind just in time to keep him from stepping on a tripwire. Sam followed the wire and saw it was attached to a jimmy keeping a blade from swinging down, Indiana Jones style.
"Thanks," Sam said quietly.
Sam took a few more steps forward and saw where the blood trail began - a dead male who'd been shot in the back, propped up against the barn wall. Sam instantly feared they were bullets from the Colt. He checked the body. Hard to tell if it was a case of bad luck or someone taking out something evil. The three live men made it to the Colt's location. They stood just outside a Devil's Trap and in the center sat an iron-tipped shovel. Someone had already dug up the safe and pulled out the case with the Colt. Sam feared it was already gone. Only one way to know for sure. The Browns looked at Sam expectantly. Their lack of movement set off his suspicions.
"Go ahead son," Joe said, motioning to the shovel. Sam side-eyed them.
There was a minute of inaction as father and son stared down tall mop top. Sam walked towards the case. He went to touch it when he felt instant sharp heat against his flesh. He pulled back in pain.
"The case - it's burning hot!"
Father and son exchanged looks. "It's a hex," said Joe. "Keeps out demons. Humans don't feel a thing but poor possessed bastards..." Joe trailed off.
And then all three simultaneously pulled out guns and started yelling at each other.
"He's a demon!"
"Shoot him!"
"I knew this was a bad idea!"
Sam nervously tipped his gun back and forth between Joe and David, while the Browns kept theirs squarely fixed on him.
"I am not a demon!" Sam said. His mind raced - was it the demon blood still in him?
"Just step away from the case," David said solemnly.
Sam panicked. He hadn't been sent all the way back just to lose his one opportunity to take out Azazel. That meant the Colt. That meant whatever it took. He looked to the case. He looked to the Browns. He plotted. But common sense won out and he took a few steps back. Joe crept up slowly and went to take the case. But like Sam a minute before he jumped back in pain. Sam and David gave each other looks of confusion.
"What the...someone strengthened the hex. Look around for a bag."
Sam and David split up as Joe checked around the case. Sam stepped over another dead body while David checked the perimeter. Nothing. Then Sam saw it.
"I got it!" He called.
"Good, set the damn thing on fire," Joe said.
Sam pulled a lighter out of his pocket and sent the hex bag up in flames. As he did, a circle of fire appeared around Joe and the case as David and Sam looked on in shock. They heard cracking as the Devil's Trap above began to break.
Their eyes only grew wider when one of the formerly dead men lying across the ground got up and ran up behind Joe. With one quick movement the demon stabbed Joe in the back and grabbed the case. Sam went to pursue but the dead man he'd crossed jumped up to block the path. Sam raised his gun and pumped the demon full of rock salt buck shots as David, across the room to his Dad, who'd fallen in a heap on the floor. David took a knife out of his jacket and went to stab but a force from out of sight yanked him back and down onto the ground. Sam tussled with the salted demon while David struggled to stand. A demon approached David and pushed him back telekinetically towards the sharply appointed wall. David's heels left drag marks in the ground as he slid backwards.
Just as he was about to become a human pincushion David grabbed the demon, wheeled it around and pressed it into the metal instead. The demon cried out as it hit a mixture of elements and then it's face lit up as the demon inside died, taking the unfortunate host with it. David saw another demon approaching and charged into the shadows to meet it. Sam, meanwhile, had grabbed the iron shovel and pummeled the demon that was attacking him. He grabbed his knife and was about to finish the job when he felt himself fly across the room backwards. He dropped his knife on the way. Sam landed on his back and a bit woozy. Even through the haze he could see the yellow eyes before they emerged from the shadows.
"Howdy, Sam. You almost make this too easy," Azazel said, stepping into the dull light about 15 feet away from Sam. He had taken over David's body. "It almost takes the fun out of it."
Joe charged but Azazel flipped him back. "Do you want to end up as a wall ornament? Because I could arrange it." He turned his attention back to Sam, walking towards him. "I knew I was coming for Sam Winchester but no one told me I'd get two for the price of one." He leaned over Sam and lowered his voice. "My, what big...everything you have for a 6-month old."
"I killed you once," Sam said through grit teeth. "And I will do it as many times as I need to."
Azazel laughed. "Funny about these things," the demon said. "The path varies from time to time but the end destination? Always the same. We may have faced off before - maybe times I remember and you don't, maybe the other way around. It doesn't matter Sam. Your Mom always dies. Your Dad always dies. You and your brother die and come back and die and come back and die and come back some more. You're in an endless loop until one of you breaks the cycle but you're too stupid to do it. There's only one way out of this tailspin. Let Lucifer in and bring on the end. No traps. No games. As long as you and your brother keep fighting it we'll keep doing this over and over til one of us gets it right."
Sam searched the ground for a weapon but didn't see anything. Azazel balled his hand into a fist and twisted. The pain immediately shot through Sam and he cried out in pain. "You're useless to me like this, Sam. I should put you out of your misery right now. But you always were my favorite. I'm still rooting for you even after everything you've done so, so wrong." The demon stopped as he felt heat at his back. He turned a bit to see Joe holding up the Colt aiming straight for him. The man was propped against a stack of hay bales for support. The demon opened his arms and turn to face the father fully.
"Go ahead, shoot me," Azazel said in David's voice. "You can't win them all!"
Joe cocked the gun but knew he couldn't shoot his own son. But it bought Sam enough time to grab his own gun and get a couple of rounds of rock salt into the yellow-eyed monster. Azazel doubled over and Sam forced himself up. He stumbled towards Joe to get the Colt. He grabbed it from the older man's hands as Joe pleaded, "Don't you do it."
Sam turned to face the demon, who smiled and said, "It's OK. I've got somewhere else to be anyway." David's head flew back and the demon evacuated into a cloud of grey smoke. Sam stewed for a moment, and then helped Joe to his feet. David collapsed in a heap for a moment before stirring.
"We have to get your Dad to a hospital," Sam said. The boy nodded and stood up to help.
Lawrence, Kansas.
Sam was staring blindly at the Colt. His body was there but his mind was millions of miles away. He wondered if the demon was telling the truth. He wondered if The End was the only way out...obviously his plan hadn't worked or he wouldn't be here. He wondered how his life would be different if his Mom didn't die. Azazel's words galvanized his desire to find out. Sam knew that he and Dean had failed the other two times they'd tried to play with time like this. Was the third time the charm?
He heard a strange sound. Like bells. It snapped him back to reality. After a moment he realized his cell phone was ringing. He slowly walked over, wide-eyed. No reception but it was ringing. Unknown call. Nervously he picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Sam." Said Castiel.
"Cas? Cas! Is Dean with you?"
"I was hoping he'd be with you," Cas replied. "Sam, Dean was shot back in time."
"Yeah, me too. I'm back home in 1983 - where is he?" Sam pulled the phone away as static took over.
"Sam, I don't have much time. Listen to me. We need to arrange to meet."
Sam didn't reply.
"Sam? Are you still with me?"
"I'm not going back," Sam said softly. "Not yet."
"This is a trick, Sam," Castiel said. "You can't change destiny. Any effect you have on the natural order of time could have huge repercussions..." The line was overpowered with static for a moment. "...you don't get second chances with fate."
"I don't care how it happened or who sent me here, Cas. I have a chance to save my family. And I'm not going to walk away from it."
"Sam..." Sam hung up the phone. It started ringing again. Sam unplugged it from the wall and removed the battery.
"Sorry, Cas," Sam said in a determined tone. "Team Free Will rides again."
The next morning at work, a familiar car was held in the air by the hydraulic lift at Woodson's garage. Sam couldn't help but smile as he approached the Impala. If he didn't know better he'd swear the car was smiling back at him as John worked on the brakes underneath.
"Don't try to steal her this time Sammy," John joked as he saw his coworker approaching.
"Nah, she belongs in the Winchester family," Sam replied, tracing the slight fin from the front quarter panel back along the driver's side door. "Need some help?"
"Just about done here actually," John said. "But if you want to help me wax her, I'd be inclined to share some of that beer in the fridge with you."
"Done," Sam agreed. He grabbed a fresh rag as John set the Impala down gently. He tossed a second one over to his didn't-know-it Dad, and grabbed the wax. John hopped in the driver's side and rolled the outside into the gravel. He hopped back out, grabbed the hose and began washing the car. As he finished a section Sam followed after with the hose to clean the soap off. The sun shone brightly on the pair and the black car dried quickly. After the car dried John backed it into the shade and they got to work. John checked to make sure Sam had the right technique down. Sam had of course learned from Dean who'd in turn learned from John. The technique was right.
Sam started working the wax over the trunk. His mind wandered as muscle memory took over. He wondered where - or when - Dean was. He wondered if he was in the same dilemma, trying to weigh the risk and reward of interfering. Sam had always been the more fatalistic of the pair. What would Dean do? And would Sam let himself try the same thing?
Middle of nowhere, Nebraska.
Dean was absently waxing his current ride, contemplating similar dilemmas as Sam. He and Alex were parked on a highway rest stop as Dean tried to figure out their next move. Truth was he was nervous about heading out to California. Any previous attempts to change the course of their family history had crashed and burned. And though that wasn't really his goal anyway he worried about getting too close. Alex was sitting a short ways off at one of the rest area's picnic tables. She had her laptop open and was trying to research Ipos. Many of the websites Dean suggested hitting either didn't exist or were far from complete. She was antsy.
"Dean?" She asked, turning to him.
"Almost done," he said.
Alex walked over. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalling."
Dean stopped waxing momentarily. "Just thinking."
"What are we waiting for exactly?" She tried again.
"There's a bar not too far from here where hunters meet up. I want to see if anyone knows about this demon that wants to take you on a date to Hell." Dean couldn't help smirking at the last part.
"Cute," Alex snarked in return. "What about heading west?"
"You sure you don't remember anything?" Dean asked, changing the subject. "No family disappearances? No crazy aunt or uncle walking around saying they could talk to angels before? Nothing?"
Alex searched her memories. "Nothing," she confirmed, shaking her head.
Dean was done waxing the car. He polished the last bit in with the cloth, then stood back to admire his work.
After a moment, Alex tried one last time. "Anything you want to tell me Dean?" She asked, not letting the subject drop. "Like, what's out west exactly?"
"Nothing good," Dean said from behind the open trunk.
"That's specific," Alex sighed. Dean slammed the trunk closed.
"You got a demon chasing you right now? Try this: I had one chasing my family and I didn't even know it. Thought we were chasing it. You wanna know what's out west? Ground zero. And I can't do a damn thing about it. I tried - I tried over and over to save my family from that fate and it never worked. I'm not stalling but I don't have any desire to be anywhere near what's going to happen. Seems like you're the special little snowflake that might change things. So I'm not exactly raring to bring you anywhere near that either." Dean unloaded.
Alex digested. "OK," she said softly after a moment. "Well, glad I ripped that one out of you before it reached the boiling point. Keeping me safe...done a good job so far. So, we go to this hunter bar?"
Dean had been expecting a fight in return. He was relieved by Alex's relief. "Yeah," he replied. "Harvelle's."
Alex nodded and got in the car. Dean slipped into the driver's side. The Chevelle roared to life and headed towards their next destination.
We're not in Kansas anymore - oh wait, we still are.
Sam was awoken by loud rapping at the door. He groggily got out of bed. He stashed the Colt in the top drawer of his dresser and made his way downstairs to the door. "Coming!" He called.
An earthquake rumbled as he pounded down the stairs. He wheeled the door open and was met with a man not much older than him and a scared-looking woman.
"Are you the ghost hunter?" The man asked.
Sam rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, I guess."
The man nodded solemnly as the woman prodded him to continue. "My wife and I, we just bought this house about two towns over. And we're not getting one lick of sleep because every night there's this damn ghost roaming the hallway. Think you could help us out?"
Sam tried not to look too amused as he broke out his Super Special Puppy Dog Eyes for good effect. "Look, I don't know what you've heard but I..." He was cut off when the woman took his hand.
"Please, Mr. Hagar. We don't have anywhere else to turn."
Sam sighed. "I'll swing by tonight. Leave your address." He handed them a pad and then went back inside.
A little while later Sam was headed to Woodson's. He noticed a small crowd gathered outside the lot. They started whispering as he approached. Making his way through the crowd, he tried to ignore them. John Winchester was waiting inside and he looked amused.
"That's quite the cult following you got there Sammy," he said with a smile.
Sam returned the gesture weakly. John actually meant Colt following, he just didn't know it.
"I guess word travels fast around here," Sam said sheepishly.
John nodded. "Small towns, kid. Ain't much else to talk about."
"I didn't mean to start trouble," Sam said. John laughed.
"No big deal. All just a bunch of stories and hijinks anyway, right?"
"Right," Sam lied. The night before Joey had been watching Dean and a friend. The boys had made their way up to Sam's apartment and found the Colt. Sam found them before anyone got hurt. But Dean wouldn't give the gun back. Sam had to negotiate. Dean wanted to know what it was for. In a moment of weakness Sam had told the kids it was a gun to kill ghosts. And now the whole town thought Sam was a ghost hunter. Which he was. At one time. He was way beyond that now. After the incident he looked the gun in an old lockbox and hid it under the floor in his apartment. The damage was already done though.
It was a Saturday. The Saturday before Sam would turn 6 months old. He felt a heavy weight on his shoulders. He still hadn't decided what the best plan was. He wanted to get his family far away from Lawrence. Sam was afraid that no matter where they went the demon would find them. According to the papers a big storm was headed their way from the east. Which never happened. Not naturally anyway. Sam was beginning to wonder if anything could protect them. His phone been three days dead. Sam was recharging it. He didn't know if Castiel would call again and if not how would he find Sam?
Saturday was a short workday so Sam headed down to the University of Kansas library. He returned his books on time travel. Then he headed to the religious studies section. He grabbed every book on angels and demons he could carry and claimed one of the study tables. And then he read. He read and he read and he read about angels. He read about how they appeared, how they traveled, how they lived. Each time a book got it mostly right Sam tried to find out where angels convened. No book seemed to have information on it though and Sam had no clue what that meant.
After a few frustrating hours Sam gave up. He was getting nowhere and it was nearly time to meet up with the couple from earlier in the day. He left the library. He was walking back to his truck. He was unlocking the door when he sensed someone beside him. He looked up and found himself face to face with Castiel.
"Cas...?" Sam said apprehensively. Castiel didn't look overly happy to see him.
"Sam." The angel said in response.
"How did you find me?"
"I asked your parents," Castiel responded. "And then I looked for the tallest person at the library."
Sam festered.
"It's time to go, Sam."
"No, wait, why did you send me here in the first place?" Sam demanded.
"I didn't do this," Castiel insisted.
Sam paused, confused. "Then who did?"
"I don't know for certain. I do know that your brother is 22 years ahead of all this and he's about to get himself killed. I hear you have the Colt?"
"Yeah, but Cas...I'm not going anywhere." Sam drew himself up to full height, towering over the angel. Cas looked up, confused.
"Sam, your attachment to your hometown confuses me."
"It's not the town. It's my parents! I want to stop the yellow-eyed demon."
"You've already stopped him, Sam."
"You know what I mean Cas! I have a chance to stop things before they even begin. Maybe even give me and Dean a shot at a normal life!"
Castiel frowned. "Destiny will find a way, Sam. You stop them next week, the demons find a way a month later. The self-sacrificing is meaningless."
"Sounds like the old you," Sam said, turning away. "Guess you gave up on beating destiny. But I haven't. I'm staying."
Castiel got up in Sam's face. Or as close as he could get anyway. "To what end? You stay here in Lawrence for the rest of your life fending off demons that come after you and your family? What happens when the Apocalypse comes on anyway only for you to have no one to help you fend off Lucifer?"
"Maybe if I stop this, Dad doesn't start hunting. Dean doesn't either. They don't die, no seals break and the Apocalypse never happens," Sam tried.
"You and I both know that these demons will not stop. You have to stop them Sam. With Dean. And that means things to have to unfold as they always have."
"Things have already changed," Sam admitted.
A look of concern spread across Castiel's face. "What do you mean?" Castiel asked.
"Some demon - not Azazel - tried to recruit me a week or two ago. It knew exactly who I was. And it didn't seem surprised to see me here."
Castiel's head sank backwards as the news hit him. "You risk unleashing Hell now by staying, Sam. If demons know you are here then Lucifer does too. They will not leave you alone. They will keep sending bigger and badder demons until one of them reels you in."
Sam turned away. He paced a few steps, trying to decide what the best outcome was. "I need to warn them, Cas."
Castiel exhaled. It was pointless to try any further. He agreed to give Sam two more days. And then he left.
