A/N Hello, I'm back with my irregular updates! This is the last chapter before we get some more action and ass-kicking. This one is all about the feels. :D I hope you enjoy it!

A huge thank you to ArtistKurai for being a beta-reader.

Disclaimer - Still don't own Supernatural

Happy reading!


Chapter 13 - Weapons and chick flick moments

The air was filled with anxiety. That's the best way Sam could describe the feeling. As both Future Sam and Future Dean disappeared somewhere to gather supplies, he was finally allowed to explore the place. Nevertheless, he got a feeling that even if he spent his whole life in this...Batcave, he would never manage to learn all its secrets. Getting tired of his father's constant grumbling and suspicion he had taken the book - "Classification of ghosts and their characteristics volume 1" - with him and went in a search of a quiet corner. They weren't supposed to leave till a couple of hours later - apparently opening a gateway to Purgatory required some research and a couple of annoying phone calls - so Sam decided to actually learn something. He would talk later, when the world had been saved, with his future counterpart to spare him this newly required knowledge in case their memories truly got whipped.

His quiet read about the newly dead vengeful spirits got interrupted much too soon to his annoyance when he heard voices from a room couple of doors down the corridor to where he was sitting on the stairs.

"I don't like this, Sam," he recognized Future Dean's voice.

"I don't fancy you going to Purgatory either, by you don't hear me complaining about it every five minutes," Future Sam answered and Sam couldn't help his curiosity so he slowly got up and shuffled closer.

A loud sigh came from the room and he heard some shuffling.

"This is going to go so wrong," Future Dean complained and was met with a humorless laugh.

"Something always goes wrong," Future Sam replied and Sam could hear bed springs squeaking.

"You know? I thought we were done with this time traveling shit," Dean huffed. "This is so messed up."

"You're telling me," another humorless laugh from Future Sam. "As if dealing with young you isn't hard enough, we got Dad as a bonus."

"Teenage you is not such an angel either," Future Dean laughed and a soft thud resonated from the room followed by an offended 'Hey' from the older Sam. Sam himself had been on the receiving end of Dean's hearty punches enough to know that that was the case.

A silence followed and Sam thought that their little heart-to-heart had ended when Future Sam huffed and spoke up out of the blue.

"The young me has just received the letter."

Sam had no doubt about which letter they spoke. There was only one, whose weight had been both a burden and a blessing. Sam sometimes feared that an object that important would have a mind of its own. He remembered all the late night sneaking around to make sure the envelope hadn't spontaneously moved from its place or that it hadn't disappeared. Every time he had walked in a motel room and seen Dean reading a piece of paper he'd gotten cold chills fearing that the letter had been found. For weeks on end he had felt the weight of the secret slowly crushing him into the ground and now that Dean knew about it, now that he himself knew about the consequences, he dreaded the moment when he'd have to make a decision.

Another silence befell before Future Dean spoke, "And?"

"He's scared," Future Sam admitted.

Sam blew out a breath quietly and rolled his eyes. That's an understatement.

"Were you?"

Future Sam let out an echo of a laugh at the memory. A memory Sam didn't yet have. "I was terrified."

"I'd say it turned out better than hoped," Future Dean laughed.

"We're still alive," Future Sam agreed, "despite every monster that wants to kill us."

"Come on! What can be more horrible than God's evil sister," Future Dean laughed, though to Sam it was only a reason for furrowing his brows even more. He decided to store that bit of information in his head for later pondering. Along with almost everything else that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

"I'd say Dad sometimes cuts pretty close," Future Sam groaned before adding. "Don't give me that face. You know I'm right.

Sam couldn't say he disagreed with his future self. Sam only wished he could see the Future Dean's face, but Future Dean spoke up again.

"It's Dad," he explained. "He has his own way of handling things."

"He always does," Future Sam seemed to agree but then groaned. "It doesn't make this whole situation easier."

"Just add that to the pile of things that complicate our job," Dean answered, however this time the sound of his voice was accompanied by footsteps, "Including this one."

Sam was too focused on hearing more of the conversation to react to what the nearing footsteps meant and before he could react he was already faced with the Future Dean's victorious smirk, "Well hello there!"

"Uh…" Sam inwardly cursed his sudden lack of words. "I was just reading," he lamely raised his book in defense and prayed for the ground to open up and swallow him when he saw Future Dean raise a skeptical eyebrow.

"Of course you were, Shakespeare," Future Dean grinned and took the few steps back into the room.

Lost as to what he was supposed to do, Sam decided to follow him inside since hiding was pointless and would only add to his embarrassment.

The room was nothing special. There was a single bed and the walls were bare except for a device mounted on the wall which Sam guessed to be a TV. A very large TV. On every available surface, there was a weapon of some kind. Sam saw knives, machetes, shotguns, pistols, and several boxes of bullets.

His future self sat on the floor leaning his back against the bed and was wiping a long, silvery, spear-like knife. He only briefly glanced at him with an understanding smile playing on his lips before returning his gaze to the weapon in his hands. Future Dean took his seat at the desk and immediately got to work sharpening a machete. Sam recognized some items from the arsenal in the Impala and couldn't help but smile at the familiarity.

"What is that?" he asked after watching Future Sam pick up another shiny blade.

His counterpart raised the blade in the air, "This?"

Sam nodded. The Winchesters were not ones for shiny things so he guessed the weapon had a particular ability other than looking like a giant silver toothpick.

"It's an angel blade," Future Sam explained, before swiftly throwing one of them for Future Dean and wrapping the other one in a cloth.

"What does it do?"

Future Dean snorted at him and Sam furrowed his brows in confusion, "It kills angels."

"And demons," Future Sam added.

That didn't ease Sam's confusion at all.

"Why would you want to kill an angel?" he asked, remembering all the times he had prayed to them when he was little and his brother and Dad were late from a hunt.

"Because they are douchebags," Dean explained, "and they wanted to start the apocalypse."

"But you have an angel out there," he pointed to the doors.

"Cas is different, he's the good guy," Dean pointed out, not taking his eyes off the knife he was sharpening.

"So he didn't want to start the apocalypse?" Sam questioned.

"He did…at first" Dean looked up at him and then groaned, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "Look, kid, it's complicated."

"Everything is," Sam answered half-heartedly.

Just then the sound of falling footsteps resonated from the hall and all three of them raised their heads to meet the visitor. Castiel stepped over the threshold seeming a bit distraught at finding Sam there as well.

"I…" He eyed Sam briefly before giving a questioning glance to Future Sam and Future Dean.

"What is it, Cas?" Future Sam prompted him.

"I think it would be time to contact Crowley about access to Hell," he suggested. The mutual groans from both Future Winchesters didn't reveal anything promising about the newly introduced ally.

"Do we have to?" Future Dean whined.

"I can't believe I'm saying this but he's probably our best bet," Future Sam huffed. "We'd actually have a chance of finding a reaper who wouldn't kill us on first sight."

"But really?" Dean didn't relent.

"In that case, you could ask the witch," the angel suggested.

Sam, who until then was throwing glances between the speakers, got even more confused when their future counterparts started up protests.

"I'd rather not. Where Rowena goes Crowley follows," Future Dean complained. "I don't wanna deal with their family drama right now. I have enough of my own at the moment, thanks."

"I agree. Dad will probably want to shoot us just because we asked for a demon's help. No telling what he'd do with four different supernatural beings all in one room," Future Sam stated, a humorous smirk playing on his lips.

"He'd lose his marbles," Future Dean snorted.

Sam in the meantime was lost to this peculiar conversation. The amount of concentration he had to put in just to understand the conversation was giving him a headache and he felt all the day's long events starting to catch up to him. Looking at the ticking clock on the wall he was surprised it showed only 3 AM. He was surprised to realize that all the events had only happened in the span of twenty-four hours. Internally Sam felt like he had aged decades. The silly thought made him cast a side glance at the older Sam.

"Fine," Future Sam said as Sam finally tuned back into the conversation. It seemed like they had finally come to a decision. "I'm gonna go and try to speak with the King of Hell without killing him."

"You do that," Future Dean yelled after Future Sam as he and the angel left the room leaving Sam and Future Dean alone…and in a very awkward silence.

"Soooo," Sam scratched the back of his neck, feeling nervousness creeping up into his bones.

Future Dean just huffed and gestured to the bed, "Take a seat."

He did. He carefully tiptoed around the weapons which Future Sam had been occupied with and settled on the other side of the bed which wasn't covered in weapons.

Future Dean must have noticed how stiff his posture and how he tried to take up the least possible amount of space in the bed because he groaned at him, "Jeez, relax! I'm not gonna bite you."

Sam eyed him wearily but tried to force his shoulders to relax. That was a surprisingly difficult task.

"Lay back," Future Dean commanded nonchalantly at which Sam only made wide eyes.

"What?" He squeaked. Internally Sam wanted to slap himself for making such a sound but he was currently too occupied with deciphering what the Future Dean wanted from him.

"Just do it," Future Dean rolled his eyes at him before picking a gun to clean.

Completely bewildered but lacking imagination as to what he should do except listen he lay down in the bed, neck craned almost painfully so he could keep the older Winchester in his line of sight.

Future Dean looked up from his work and raised an annoyed eyebrow at him, his expression set as if he was completely done with Sam's confusion.

"Sleep, Sam." he ordered a slight smirk setting in his expression as he shook his head.

Sam wasn't completely sure what was happening at the moment, "Uhhmmm?"

Seeing his confusion and bewilderment at the whole situation Future Dean raised his head again. "You're tired and we have a long day ahead of us. It's better if you catch some z's."

"Aren't you gonna sleep as well?" Sam looked at the bed and then again at the future counterpart of Dean.

"It's Sam's bed," Future Dean explained. "I'm sure he won't mind."

Sam still wasn't so confident but feeling the tiredness relentlessly weighing down his bones he reluctantly gave in, "Okay."

He set his head full on the pillow and turned to his side getting more comfortable.

"See?" He heard Future Dean's voice from the foot of the bed where he was rummaging in a chest there. "That wasn't so bad."

The next thing he knew there was a blanket covering him and he startled as the material maked contact with his body. He flinched as he threw a surprised look at Future Dean, who just looked back at him in amusement.

"The blanket won't bite either."

"I know," Sam growled in response, making a show of pulling it tighter around his shoulders and showing Future Dean that he was not scared of the gray piece of fabric.

He heard Future Dean settle back on the chair and return to cleaning his weapons, all the while Sam's eyes scanned the wall he was facing at the items positioned on the shelf there. There were books, folders of papers, a tangled mess of wires in one corner, and even a half empty glass of water.

He tried to relax and allow the exhaustion lull him in a couple of hours' long sleep but he was almost painfully aware of Dean, who wasn't really his Dean, sitting a few feet away from him.

Future Dean didn't seem bothered in the slightest by his presence and Sam felt a bit jealous of the way the Future Winchesters seemed to have accepted them so easily. Like it wasn't unnatural at all to meet their past selves.

Sam couldn't stop thinking about everything he had seen and learned about their upcoming years. The people surrounding the Future Winchesters and the bunker itself seemed so foreign and he could never imagine associating those things with the current him.

Sam wasn't sure whether to be amazed and proud of what they would eventually become or be wary and even scared.

"Were you angry?" A question escaped his lips and his eyes widened at the realization that he had said it out loud.

"About what specifically?" Future Dean asked. "I can't read minds, Sammy."

Something caught in the back of Sam's throat at the nickname but he pushed past it. "When I left for school."

There was a pause which was enough for dread to settle in Sam's heart.

"I was hurt," Future Dean ended up answering. "I lived with it and it's in the past."

"And now?" Sam couldn't help asking.

Instead of a reply he heard him get up and he was afraid that the older man would leave the room to avoid answering, but a brief look showed him that the Future Dean had just moved across the room to pick up a gun.

He settled again in his chair before answering, "We've made our fair share of mistakes and we've had plenty fights but Sam is still my brother and I love him."

"That's…" Sam blinked away the moisture gathering in his eyes and laughed, "that's so sappy."

"Shut up!" Future Dean grumbled but it only made Sam's happy grin split even wider.

This time the silence that followed was more comfortable and he finally felt the last bit of tension slip from his shoulders as he settled deeper in the mattress of Future Sam's bed.

Sam felt as if he could almost taste his own exhaustion on his tongue and it made his eyelids feel heavy. His thoughts still hadn't slowed down so he still was lingering on the verge of sleep.

Sam knew himself and his brother well enough to know they wore their hard masks like professionals. He doubted that would change much. Maybe the masks would get thinner over the years and they would learn to read through the cracks better but Sam was sure that they were never completely taken off. With a fond smile he remembered his conversation with Future Sam on the side of the road and before he completely slipped into his sleep he allowed himself this one single show of emotions to his brother who wasn't really his brother at the moment. His future brother.

"He loves you too," he said, quiet enough to sound like a secret but loud enough to make sure it reached Future Dean's ears.

Because he knew that to be a fact, both in his time and in the future, and he also knew that it had probably been said out loud to other people but never to each other.

Honestly, Sam doubted it would ever be said face to face.

It was okay.

He knew it was there anyway.


A/N Drop a comment and please yell at me if I still haven't posted a chapter next week!