(Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.)

Summary: AU (from apocalypse to bunker) Dean thought that it just couldn't get any worse, but let's say, moving along in time was not what he expected, especially by an angel he never expected to see again. Haunted by his past and the future -with all the secrets & uncertainties- Dean will have to try to adjust to everything thrown his and Sam's way and then Cass' way later on.

Chapter 8: Down With the Wicked Bitch of the West

. . . .

After a few minutes, Cass placed the object in his pocket, turning his attention to the oldest sibling, eyes searching for anything that would suggest what he was thinking. Instead of voicing his multiple questions, one of which being if he was actually picking up on what Dean truly meant. He decided to keep his mouth shut, staring off into the distance, though. Dean's voice alerted him to Sam's approach, so blue eyes traveled to land on the two brothers. Dean and Sam were talking about the creature again, Cass was sure, which made his mind wander to how he had found Dean.

He tilted his head, studying Dean again, and he noticed how he didn't walk like he normally did and how his face would light up in pain, but it would disappear like lightning before Sam even registered it. Dean was injured, the angel concluded yet again. He could already tell that Dean's right arm needed medical attention, but he doubted Dean would allow it, especially if it came from Cass. He almost frowned, but he disguised it because the two brothers turned toward him. Actually, Sam walked toward where he stood in order to get into the car, and Dean had turned to make sure the hood was closed tight. He was about to move, but what Dean said made him freeze.

"Get in the car, Cass," he instructed him, opening the driver's door. He slipped inside the car while Cass made his way to sit in the backseat behind Sam's seat. Dean put the car into gear, slowly. Cass thought he heard Dean say softly, "Easy now, Baby." That didn't give the angel much confidence in the car's condition. The car started to roll forward, and Dean's eyes lit up a bit, but it immediately vanished.

Sam gripped his seat as the car suddenly died and stopped. Dean put it back into gear and started her up again. She did it without much fuss, and then they were off again. This time, however, she remained running… Until they neared a motel that they just decided to take for a little rest. Also, Dean hadn't told Sam about the possible one that got away, but he wasn't going to ditch town until he was positive the thing was done for. It sucked that the Impala died at least ten yards from their destination, and even when Dean tried to coast her into the parking lot, she didn't quite make it, so he put it into neutral and got out. They all had to push the car out of the road and in front of the motel.

Dean could barely help without a noise of pain. Luckily, he was able to hide it from Sam; from Cass, that was a different story. At last, they put her out of the way, stopping her at a door with a "7 " on it. After making sure she was in park and the key was in his pocket, Dean announced that he would go get the room key. He came back, and they unloaded a few things and went into the room. It had two beds, a table, three chairs with one looking semi-comfortable, one bedside table with the only light in the room, and one tv stand, which lacked a tv. It appeared to be slightly dusty too. Also, Dean was sure there was a bathroom, but when he went to look at it, he could obviously see that it didn't have a shower.

Just like the good old times. Dean shook his head. "Hey Cass, you can get the other bed, I'll take the chair." He offered without thinking.

"I'm okay with the chair, Dean. I don't require sleep." As he said that, Cass claimed the seat, which was by the large window next to the door, which was then next to Sam's bed because Dean took the furthest bed from the angel. Yeah, he might have allowed Cass to stay, but that didn't mean he trusted him enough to be near. He slipped into the bed, under the sheet, lying on his back as Sam turned off the light. At first, Dean didn't sleep; he merely stared at the wall to his right. He was debating if he managed to kill that one creature. After a while though, his eyes drifted closed, and he fell into a rather uneasy slumber.

Sam immediately passed out once his head hit the pillow because he was still slightly exhausted from his "sickness" the other day. It definitely took a lot out of him. Cass' eyes went to the ceiling as he watched lights from cars light up the room. Unfortunately, after only a small time - around twenty-three minutes - the furthest body twitched in its sleep, head moving this way and that. Drawing his eyes to the movement, Cass saw the body move again, this time more suddenly, and eventually, the entire body flung itself out of bed, and the body headed past both beds toward the door. The angel made sure he glanced away so he wasn't caught staring, but the Winchester didn't seem to even notice him.

Cass waited a few moments, then he was up and following the shadow out the door. He saw the figure lying on the trunk of the car, eyes up at the stars. He didn't speak, but he walked to the other side of the car, looking up as well. They remained in silence until Cass couldn't hold his tongue any longer. "You're up," he commented matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, no kidding." The oldest Winchester stated.

"Why is that?"

"Not tired." He lied, a blank expression playing on his face. Cass gave him a dubious look, but Dean didn't pay attention to it. The Winchester merely stretched out his right arm, rubbing it with his left after a spark of pain shot through it. "You know, you can never really see the stars during the apocalypse." He told the angel out of nowhere. "They're there, but you never get the chance to look up at them." He frowned at the memories trapped inside his head.

Dean moved over from the middle to the side of the trunk, apparently leaving room for another person on the opposite side. He didn't say anything for a long time, and when he did, he yawned midway through his sentence.

"It's funny, you guys worry so much here, and back there-" He attempted to hold back a yawn, but he couldn't stop it for the life of him. Plus, Cass was pretty sure Dean didn't even realize what he was saying. "- No one asked, you know… The captain's gotta be…" His voice started to come out slower, the words more drawn out now. "Well, let's say, he gets shit done…" He sighed out, turning onto his side, back to Cass. "And he's gotta keep grinding… That's how… That's how you - we all…" His voice didn't continue, but the slow, steady breathing signaled that he was no longer conscious.

Cass turned his eyes away, up at the sky, remembering how "creepy" watching over someone sleeping was. He himself didn't consider it all too disturbing, but he wasn't human, and when he had been, it still didn't matter to him. However, on numerous occasions, Dean had told him how weird and strange it was. There's just some things Castiel couldn't understand about humans, especially when his main companions were the Winchesters; they would be considered more uncanny than the average bear (more uncanny than the average human to be more precise). He remained standing, eyes never straying from the lights dancing above until a sharp intake came from his right.

Blue eyes instantly landed on Dean, who tensed and moved his head slightly. The angel picked up the sound of teeth grinding together, and he winced in sympathy. Dean's body twitched violently. Cass certainly hoped Dean wouldn't jolt awake or fall off the car because that could be potentially dangerous, if he landed on his head at least. He moved around to the middle of the car, cautious. "Dean?" He questioned, but he didn't receive a response.

The Winchester's face scrunched up when Cass was able to see his face. Dean curled into himself, and a wave of pain nearly slapped the angel across the face. His questioning look was replaced with concern as a flurry of images and emotions rushed at him. Pounding feet, Dean yelling out "go" to a group of people, a shadow creeping behind, red running down hands, the fire grabbing hold and suffocating, an angel's light far off and fading fast, a tear fell to the ground similar to the rain all around, overwhelming amounts of regret, "Why can't you return the favor, Dean," screaming surrounding and pressing in on all sides, a man out of the corner of his eye listing off names, "Remember my promise," the numbness spreading out with the mantra to keep going, to keep running.

Dean groaned, head whipping up a bit as his right arm stretched out. Cass felt terrible about tuning into the vivid dreams, but they were so loud that he couldn't ignore them. He did try once, but his attention was brought back when he heard his name among the pictures and emotions. Cas, Sam, it was cold so cold, he lost everyone… 'Trust me Dean' a deep voice grumbled, temperatures dropped even lower, Sam was gone, a cruel smirk accompanied another round of sudden pain, then there was fear that crashed down, more running steps, "Good luck, Dean."

Dean's brows scrunched together more tightly. "I will kill you" Dean promised, a sickened laugh echoed around his head, silence nothing but deafening silence, he swirled around in search and saw no one, "Pity they left," look who's in your corner, stiff steps forward toward a door with a 7 on it, glance around and nothing in sight, there was nothing here anymore…

Dean's breath caught in his throat, and Cass frowned as if these were all his own memories and fears. It felt like he was living the nightmare along with Dean. A band of people walking, only one came back, a question of why him, a gunshot pierced through the air.

Cass couldn't break away from the nightmare, as if it were trapping him as well. Aiming of the gun at the back of his head, wrists tied, "go ahead and do it" Dean told them, the chair flipped clattering to the floor, fear wrapped around him as he walked along the beaten path, a limp to his step as he neared lights in the distance, he straightened to push the pain aside, he knew he couldn't show weakness, something shattered above him, turning, the window breaking to the other side, he spun around in circles, it was too much when eyes locked on the ragdoll figure, Sam… It was over, the creature turned its body mocking, no it wasn't the creature anymore, it was himself.

Dean made a noise so uncharacteristic of himself that it kicked Cass out of his stupor, and the angel was immediately leaping into action. He had enough; they both did. He grabbed hold of Dean's shoulders, shaking him. Dean merely frowned in his sleep and then sucked in a shaky breath. Sharpening of the blade, eyes staring and unblinking, the worry left, he was numb, shouldn't feel this way, a demon turning away, the light flashing off a blade as the weapon killed it-

Cass called out Dean's name, but it wasn't heard apparently. - I'm going to die, no I refuse, anger flared, "come and get me you bastard" Dean yelled above the screeching and screams, anger, more anger, anguish next-

Cass could still feel the nightmare and everything in it like it was the present. The angel couldn't think properly. It was like he was trapped. - It doesn't matter anymore… He was coming, the fear faded as quick as it appeared, "sometimes you want to just throw everything out the window but you can't, trust me I've tried" Dean's voice mumbled from far away, the gun wavered in hands, just one more time that's it but it's never just once more, eye to eye with a barrel of a gun, nervousness surfaced, turning the gun to point forward, should I?

Cass hit the car, hard enough to dent it. Still, Dean didn't even flinch. Now he was getting worried. A gun exploded from in front of him, "What's next Sam," he's gone there's nothing you can do about it, "Sam's stuck up here," the angel left, be the captain, doesn't matter, pain and anger came into his head, doesn't matter just shove it down, keep grinding but it's so difficult, the despair overwhelming his surroundings, doesn't matter, no angel, no brother, no Cas and no Sam, he had no one, the weight on the shoulders increased with each step, gotta keep going, pain erupted throughout his body, push it aside, snow littered the ground, "Doomsday" Dean's voice labeled it - Cass was about ready to jump on the car soon (not literally of course) because no matter what he did, Dean merely groaned or his eyebrows drew together. He began to curl around himself again. Cass narrowed his eyes, not looking as anxious as he was inside his head.

"You ready," pain followed, coldness resting in his heart, keep adding to the list of screw ups, uncaring, another body down, bottom line: he didn't want to care, everything circled around him in the darkness, things blurred, pain in his eyes, it was silenced, he couldn't let any tears fall, "How much blood do you have on your hands," staring, there's too much, sadness drew him up, a drink in hand, liquid disappearing automatically, another city, another person, another village, he was still around, this war was going to end, another drink but something stronger, a explosion in the distance that rattled windows, time to move out.

Cass grabbed hold of Dean again; he didn't know what to do. He thought about invading his dreams to try to rouse him, but he was prevented from doing so. One, the memories were going so fast that anyone could get lost in them, and it was already attaching itself to Cass as if he experienced these feelings and events. Two, he wasn't certain what would happen if he did get in there. He might be caught up in them as well or if Dean found out… He didn't want to think about that. However, when Dean started choking, he was ready to throw out his worries and just dive right in. Cass couldn't breathe now as the nightmare pulled him back in. Hands tightening around the throat, a knee crashed upward, he could breathe, black eyes from the left, unbearable pain all around… Cass hit the Winchester directly in the face, who lurched sideways, but didn't tumble off the car. Then, the angel grabbed hold of his friend's collar with both hands, thinking - no demanding- for him to wake up.

"Dean, wake up." He said lowly. No movement or noise came from the oldest brother's mouth. However, the nightmare had suddenly ceased. He released Dean, eyes troubled. He leaned in a bit closer, studying the face, and he almost jumped back when the green eyes fluttered open.

"Uh… Cass, personal space man."

The angel backed off to the other side of the car. "You alright?"

Dean raised a brow with a slight narrowing of his eyes as he propped himself up a bit onto his elbow. "Just dandy. Why?"

"It seems you were having a nightmare." Blue eyes traveled to the bruise on Dean's face, and Cass frowned. He didn't mean to injure Dean, but he had been running out of options.

Dean shrugged, rubbing his cheek, and he accidentally hit the forming bruise, and he winced. "Did… You hit me?"

"You wouldn't wake up-"

"So you frigging hit me?" He asked incredulously.

"It was getting-" He tried to explain, but Dean cut him off once again.

"Dude, I don't care. Forget it." He took his hand away from his face and got a little more comfortable on his back. He hesitated before asking if Cass saw anything.

The angel paused. "Only a few things," he lied. He didn't want Dean to feel any more awkward or self-conscious than he most likely already was, but he wanted to be honest as well. "I felt some of your emotions as well," he added quietly.

Dean shifted uneasily and gave a slight shrug like he didn't care, but he truly did. He attempted to say casually, "Enjoy the picture show any?" He joked, which fell flat, and a frown reached his face. "Hey Cass, do me a favor. Stay out of my head for awhile. I have to think."

The angel consented with a small nod, eyes still trained on the Winchester for a second before glancing away. Dean sighed, thoughts heading to his nightmare. To everyone else, it would seem random and unable to be followed, but to him… Well, let's just say that not just an angel can "Delorean" him to a different time. He picked up some of the events, stewing in the memories for a bit. Then, he threw out all of his thoughts, and there was only silence left. Unfortunately, the silence seemed to surround him, crushing him underneath it all - the pain, the guilt, the horror, everything- and Cass could feel it. The angel glanced up at the moon. "Some things hurt, Dean, but you have family to fall back on now. You have Sam and… Myself as well." He paused. "Even if you don't think of me as family, that's what you are." He saw Dean look over at him, and his blue eyes slid over without him having to turn his head.

Dean turned away. "Oh great, an angel likes me." He sighed with a quick roll of his eyes. Then his eyes went back up at the sky, left arm coming up behind his head as a substitute for a pillow in the process. "Everyone knows that things change and I'm gonna say-" He stopped himself. "Nevermind, just forget it." He shoved the invisible wall back up, and he stared without emotion at the skies above.

Cass hid a frown. "Sam's right, Dean."

"What?" Green eyes snapped over to him.

The angel looked up at the stars again. "For millenniums, I've watched the activities of Earth from above in Heaven. I've seen things; I've seen people, so much that I've lost count, and I noticed that no one was truly able to hold it all in without repercussions - without consequences afterward." Blue eyes shown brightly in the moonlight as he looked over at Dean, who straightened up on the trunk.

Dean said. "That's what I do, and I'm fine."

"Are you?"

Dean swirled his body so his feet touched the ground and his back was turned toward the angel. "Good as ever." He was off the trunk, walking to the front of the car, and Cass met him there on the opposite side of the car.

"I know that's not true." His eyes narrowed. "I can see your guilt, your pain, your anger. Don't lie to me, Dean."

Dean glared silently, arms crossing over his chest.

"We all experienced loses, Dean, some more than others." Dean turned away, as Cass continued. "I know that you don't wish to talk about the apocalypse with Sam, I understand that, but-" Dean had snapped his head to the closed door of their room when he mentioned the apocalypse, but the angel didn't acknowledge it. "- I know how difficult it is to hold it all in, and you shouldn't face that alone."

"What the hell do you know?" He gritted out, a glare heading over in the angel's direction.

"I've done… A lot of horrible things, some I thought were my fault, which you and Sam convinced me otherwise, others I knew were entirely on my shoulders. I tried to right them, but I didn't know how to. It seemed that I messed things up more than I could help. Don't tell me you can't relate."

"Shut up, Cass," it slipped out as the green eyes clenched closed. "Just shut your face."

"The truth is Dean, you keep trying, that's what counts." He raised a hand to place on Dean's shoulder, but then he brought it back down to his side. "Eventually, you will set things right because there's so much failure and death that the world can handle, that something good must come to balance it out."

Dean opened his eyes, glancing over his shoulder.

Blue and green connected, and Cass said, deciding to use another analogy. "It's almost like fighting a war. Some battles you will win, others you will lose, but you can't give up simply because you're not winning at the moment. The opposite side of the conflict will never do such a thing, so neither should we."

They stared at each other for a bit, neither one breaking the silence or the stillness until Dean narrowed his eyes slightly. "What do you know about-"

The angel returned the look after some time. "Just trust me, Dean."

The Winchester's expression darkened. "Trust you?"

"Please don't refer back to-"

"Why the hell would I 'just trust you?'"

"Dean," Cass started, and he turned his back on Dean. He didn't want to argue. "... You- You can believe whatever you want." He was swung around by a tight hand on his shoulder, coming face-to-face with Dean again.

"I need just a little more than just 'trust me.' How do you know all of this?"

Cass' eyes stared above his head then back to his face. "You have your secrets, I have mine."

Dean made a face that said yeah, really? No shit sherlock. "Some more than others," he mimicked what the angel had said earlier.

Cass glared. "No one has as much as you, Dean."

Dean blinked then he continued to glare. "That's my problem then." His green eyes grew fiercer. He went to stomp his way inside, but he was prevented by the angel's statement.

"And then you make it others' problems." Cass' voice sounded behind him in irritation.

He swirled around, instantly in front of the angel again. "What?"

"You let your problems add up until it's too much, you've done this from the beginning, and it doesn't help anyone you come in contact with."

"I don't need advice from an angel."

"Why not?" Blue eyes seemed to drill into Dean, scanning for anything Cass wanted to find. "Is it because of Lucifer? Is that why you hate angels-"

"Don't talk about that son of a bitch." A look unlike any before crossed the Winchester's face.

Cass knew when the archangel's name came out that it was a mistake, and the look that crossed the other's face tripled his guilt. The look was rage - undeniable hatred- and something else buried deep down. "Dean, what happened back in your time?"

"Oh you know, fucking picnics on a beach, tons of traffic, the usual," he bit out sarcastically. "It's was just Lucifer being the major dick he was," he spread his arm wide, glancing up at the sky for a second. "Just a regular day in the fucking neighborhood with Luci." His jaw tightened, and the look seemed to intensify when it came back on Cass' face. It was similar to the one that made the angel back down from earlier.

The angel looked away. "I'm sorry for bringing him up." He had never wanted to piss the Winchester off; he merely wanted to receive answers, just not like this. His eyes came back to Dean's glowering.

"That's just great, you're sorry." Dean put emphasis on the word, hissing it through his teeth. "Being sorry doesn't account for crap, angel." He growled lowly, turning away from the angel with both his hands and his teeth clenched tightly together. He wanted to nail the angel in the frigging face.

He headed to go inside before he attempted to kill the blue-eyed creature. That's just what he needed - kill the angel and get Sam on his case. Cass didn't bother to move from his spot, simply opting to avert his eyes from Dean's retreating back. However, something came out of Dean's mouth that he wasn't going to leave unanswered.

"Don't just blame him for my hatred of angels because you're no fucking better, Cass."

Anger flashed into the angel automatically, and before he knew what he was doing, Dean was thrown onto the hood of the car. It didn't harm him - Cass had been slightly less forceful than usual; it really just seemed to stun the Winchester. "If I was truly no better than him-"

Dean got off the car, silencing him for a moment. "Ever think you were worse?"

Cass narrowed his eyes, gaze flickering to Dean's right hand that twitched slightly. It hovered over the gun at his side. "What are you waiting for? Come on already." He stated as Dean slowly drew out the weapon, pointing it directly at the angel's forehead. Cass stared at Dean, barely looking at the gun now. He understood he couldn't die just from a simple gunshot, so he wasn't too worried.

Dean didn't pull the trigger yet, but he wanted to. Man, did he want to give him a third eye. He knew it wouldn't kill the damn angel, but it sure would sting like a sonofabitch. He was ready to pull the trigger, and then, he did.

. . . .

The shot echoed in the parking lot, but Cass was hole free. He had been watching Dean, waiting for the inevitable "pain" that would follow the loud bang, but just a split second before Dean shot, his green eyes flickered to look somewhere over Cass' shoulder. The eyes grew hard after a small bit of confusion slipped into them. Then the shot came.

Cass turned to look where the Winchester had shot, but Dean was suddenly leaping over the hood, blade in hand and coming down on something, while pushing the angel out of the way. The angel faced him after catching himself, seeing a splatter of fluid across Dean's cheek, while Dean gently kicked a circular object - a head - which rolled to lay to rest underneath the window of their room. The rest of the creature's body was at Dean's feet. Dean turned a glare up to the angel, who blinked slightly.

Cass was actually speechless, and he observed Dean for a few moments, his brain trying to determine what had happened. Yes, of course Cass knew what happened; Dean just saved him in the knick of time, or at least killed the Aswang before it attacked either of them. He just couldn't piece together why though. He squinted over at him in question.

Luckily, Dean was as confused as he was. He guessed it was just a reaction, something beyond his control, but he had just saved a frigging angel for pete's sake, and he wasted a bullet on it. Thinking about bullets, Dean checked his gun - one bullet left. He slipped it back into its holder, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't use the gun usually because he planned on shooting the Devil with it a few more times before he died. He was wondering where the rest of his bullets went. One was to save both Sam and himself, more so that he could stop Sam from rolling into the water. That one was alright with him, but the last one… That was just insane!

An angel? Seriously he used one for an "Angel of the Lord?" It definitely surprised him, and from the angel's puzzled stare, Dean concluded that he had the same question he did. Why save him, especially since they had been arguing, almost fighting, before the thing showed up? He honestly didn't know. It didn't matter, his brain reasoned. It's over with now. There was no need to cry over spilled milk, now was there? He would just have to keep in mind that he only had one shot left, so he had to save it.

"So, uhm…" Awkward. "Sorry to break up this slumber party, but I'm gonna…" He tripped over the body, hitting the car's right fender. He mentally cursed at it, but continued out loud. "Go, uh, check up on Sam."

"I'll take care of the creature," Cass said as Dean nodded, skirting around the angel without looking at him as he wiped the back of his hand to rid his face of the fluid from the creature. Cass leaned down, grabbing the body of the creature then the head next. He teleported away to dispose of it, and he returned. He appeared by the open door of their room, and he listened.

"I have a good backhand-" Whack! Cass blinked and tilted his head at the sound of a slap coming from the room; he walked closer so he could see the commotion inside.

An irritated, "Dean!" was yelled out next.

"- And I'm awesome at tennis. Actually, no not really, but whatever… Rise and shine, sleeping beast."

Sam huffed. "First of all, what the hell man?" Dean shrugged with a tiny grin. "And second, it's sleeping beauty, not sleeping beast."

"Dude." Dean's brows came together. "Can you be any more gay?"

Sam was about to say something pertaining to Dean's last sentence, but he was shoved toward the door. "Hey!"

"Hay is for horses, Sammy." This wasn't exactly checking up on Sam like Dean said he was going to do. "So come on and gallop. We're going -" He didn't know what to call the place he had woken up in, but he knew he didn't classify it as home either. There was no home in the apocalypse.

The younger stumbled. "Alright - Alright. I can walk on my own, Dean!" Dean let him walk to the door without another push, placing the keys on a shelf before he headed out the door. "Seriously," Sam grumbled to himself as he made it to the front passenger door. He hesitated. "I thought it wouldn't run."

Dean's brows shot up real quick, and he grinned. "Emphasis on thought, Sammy boy. The beauty will make it this time."

Sam gave him a doubtful look, eyebrow cocked upward. "You sure?"

"Yup, she just got overheated, that's all. We'll stop somewhere on the way back." Dean walked over to his driver's door, opened it after throwing their things in the backseat, and caught the angel hesitating by the door of the motel. He rolled his eyes. "You coming or what?" He sat down in his seat, closing the door without an answer from Cass. The angel appeared in the back of the car, behind the driver's seat, and Dean shook his head. "Keep doing that and you'll get flabby, you know."

"No," the angel squinted his eyes. "I don't know."

"Whatever you say, Cass."

The angel looked down at himself, gaze wandering to figure out what Dean meant. He just had no idea.

When they were all seated, the Impala roared -kind of- to life, and they were off on the road again, two Winchesters- the high school dropout and the one that could have lied his way through life and get paid- and an angel that wasn't so holy. It was almost like the start of a bad joke, and whoever they met, they would be the "punchline."


(Up Next: "Home" Sweet Prison?)