So I actually split this chapter in two. I like how it ended so I decided just to split it. More or less, from here on out is AU. No cases from season 9. There'll be mentions of season 9 stuff but not a whole lot. We'll finally get into the mystery of Abby. This is also centric around one character. Let me know what you think! If there's grammar mistakes let me know!

He wasn't sure what woke him. He knew he had been sleeping deeply, which was a feat considering all that had happened the previous day. He'd been tired after the angel drama but it got worse when all the yelling took place. He hadn't even changed out of his clothes, choosing to fall in a heap on his bed still wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. It had taken him quite awhile to sleep, turning and twisting in his bed, unable to get comfortable. But he finally did, after roughly two hours of restlessness he managed to fall into slumber.

But now his whole body was alert, his senses in tuned. He refused to open his eyes, hoping to retreat back into blissful oblivion but after a few minutes he felt something poke at his Hunter instinct and he knew something was out of place.

Opening hazel eyes he was surprised to see the giant Devil's trap above his bed. Sitting up slowly his eyes roved about the room, recognizing the symbols and sigils that covered his bedroom walls, the floor and other parts of the ceiling. There wasn't a bare spot on wall that wasn't spray painted. None of that was there when he had fallen asleep. More concerning was the fact that the symbols, from so many different cultures, all had to do with some type of protection against demons.

Senses on high alert, he eased himself out of bed and silently made his way toward his dresser's bottom drawer, where he knew he had a stash of all things anti-demon. Unfortunately it was empty. Actually, as he jumped up to the next drawer and then the next, he found that his dresser was completely empty. No weapons, no clothes.

His next destination was the closet across his room where he found, that too, to be empty. What the hell? Had his brother come through and did all this? It was the only thing that made sense. He didn't see Kevin or even Cas pulling a stunt like this. Well, maybe Cas but he would have woken him up to let him know what was going on. He didn't think Abby and the other angels would do this either. Even though he was weaponless, he decided that the best way to get answers was to go investigate the rest of the bunker. After digging underneath his bed he managed to locate a pair of boots that had survived the raid on his room, and once donning the leather shoes, gently popped open his door.

Again he found a large Devil's trap right outside his doorway, more sigils on the wooden door. Now he was concerned because it wasn't just his door but also the hallway floor and walls that were covered. All with the intent to keep something demonic out.

He tried not to let the panic that was building in his throat overcome him, instead he marched his way down the hall, stopping at Kevin's room only to find it deserted. By the layer of dust that covered everything, he figured it had been weeks since anyone set foot in this room. Only that didn't make sense because Kevin had gone to bed yesterday.

Running to Abby's room, he found it bare of occupation. None of her personal touches, no toys belonging to Jack. The dresser and closet were void of clothes, the bed still made and untouched. Did she leave already? Andrew and Cas' rooms came up with the same results and now he only had one room to check. He knew that it could be awkward considering what had transpired the previous night but he needed to know what was going on.

Getting closer to his brother's room the panic from earlier was rising, a touch of fear along with it. The door, some of it, was hanging off its hinges, the majority lay in splinters in the hallway, like something had burst out of the room. Looking at one of the larger pieces of door, he noticed part of a sigil used to trap demons. Mouth gone dry, he filled the doorway but refused to walk into the bedroom.

Chaos. That was the only word he could think of. The mattress, something his brother loved, was overturned, the bed frame dismantled and in pieces much like the door. The dresser was shattered, destroyed in a possible fit of rage. The closet was in the same state, along with the desk. This room was the only one that still had personal items as shirts and jeans were thrown about haphazardly.

All around the room were various weapons, tossed aside or in pieces. It was unnatural considering the care their owner bestowed upon them. One particular item was very unnerving to him and so he entered the room cautiously, crouching down to pick up the item with gentle hands.

His mother, all blonde waves and smiles, had her arms wrapped around the four year old who also shared her grin. There was absolutely no reason for this photo to be lying on the floor in such a manner. He knew this like he knew how to breath air. He could feel the panic, the fear, crawling under his skin. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Tucking the photo carefully into his shirt pocket, he backed out of his brother's room, swiftly making his way through the hallways toward the library.

"Dean! Kevin! Abby!"

Reaching the vast atrium that housed most of their books, Sam sucked in a breath. Much like Dean's room, furniture was thrown around in various stages of destruction, a few books flipped over and shredded. The bookcases were bare save for one or two volumes still gracing the shelves. Reading lamps that had decorated the tables were smashed, glass mixing with the shards of wood from broken furniture. There wasn't much light, most of the bulbs broken from some type of overload, but the ones that still retained electricity flickered, giving the room a tense and ominous atmosphere. Again this room was filled with symbols and sigils, covering nearly any and every bare spot. And all of them had to do with demons.

Now on a mission, Sam took off into the depths of the bunker, reaching the kitchen and then shooting range. Both rooms were roughly in a deserted state as opposed to destroyed, though the kitchen had smelled heavily of rotting food. Next was the garage, where it had almost been a physical blow to see the Impala gone from its spot. He never really thought how affected he'd be about the disappearance of the large black car Dean and him had called home for a better part of their lives. Ignoring that, Sam took note of the sigils covering this room as well. The kitchen didn't have any but the shooting range had a few symbols painted on the walls, not as much as the rest of the bunker. And these also pertained to one subject.

But that was impossible, wasn't it? The Men of Letters Bunker was a fortress against all evil. There was no way a demon could make their way past the defenses built into the building. But what if there had already been a demon inside, lead in by one of the others?

Long legs pumping with adrenaline Sam hurried through the halls, stepping over shattered artifacts and broken furniture, pausing only when nearing the opened doorway of room 7B. It didn't make sense considering the deal for Sam to get his body back from the angel was to let Crowley go. It was a stretch but he could see Dean having another crack at the former King of Hell. Another possibility was for Dean to grab a random demon, though Sam wasn't sure what his reason for such an action would be. Or, worse, maybe he tried to go after Abaddon herself. Pushing the thoughts aside Sam inched closer until he was hugging the door frame, hands clenched and ready for a fight, chancing a quick look into the darkened room.

Sam was surprised to see the room abandoned. Looking around one more time, verifying that nothing had crept up behind him, Sam eased himself into the storage room that hid the dungeon Crowley had called home for weeks.

This room was one of the few that remained fairly unscathed. Granted there were boxes missing from the archives but not like the chaos that colored the other rooms. Right in front of the large Devil's trap was a bowl and half a dozen items. Looking each item over Sam knew this was what one needed to summon a demon. Thinking back to the destroyed rooms, it was suffice to say that the summoning had been successful. The fear and panic were back as he tried not to overreact, wondering about why he couldn't find anybody.

So deep in his thoughts, Sam almost didn't hear the flapping of wings at his back but being a Hunter had his nerves and senses in tuned to everything around him. Even though his mind was jumbled and turning with theories as to where everyone was or what had answered the summoning, his body reacted to the hand that was reaching for him.

In a split second Sam had his assailant on their stomach, face pressed into the floor and arm twisted unnaturally behind their back.

All he got was a slight chuckle from his attacker, someone with familiar dark hair. "After so many years, you think I'd remember not to sneak up on a Hunter."

Sam let go immediately, helping his friend up. He knew he should ask about what happened in the bunker while he had slept but then he remembered the sound of wings. There was only one question that came to him. "You got your grace back?"

Cas' blue eyes furrowed at him, not saying a word. Finally he seemed to reach a conclusion. Tossing a worried look around him, Cas shrugged. "In a way."

Not waiting for a reply, the angel turned away and started poking though the boxes on one of the shelves. Having a familiar face around calmed Sam down a bit. Now he could ask what he needed.

"What happened here Cas? Where is everybody?"

Cas seemed to ignore him, looking over several files before deciding on taking all three of them. He crouched down, pulling a box out and began foraging again. "A demon attacked the bunker. It was evacuated."

"What about Dean and Kevin? Did Abby and Jack manage to escape? Hell, even Andrew, is he ok? Did Ruth and the others finish the demon off?"

Cas paused in his search, standing up and tilting his head at Sam. "Sam, who is Andrew?"

The taller man furrowed his eyebrow. "Andrew, the skin walker? He was called Ben when we met him but his real name is Andrew. Did Dean not tell you?"

Cas' face turned pensive for a second before looking up, "Sam, when was the last time you saw Dean and Kevin?"

Sam's face twisted in confusion, "Yesterday Cas. I know you weren't there when we got the angel out but you were at the bunker when we got back. Dean and me had a fight, then Abby wanted to talk. And, man, she had some things to say. You don't remember any of this?"

Cas' face turned thoughtful for a few seconds before looking up at Sam. "We have much to discuss Sam." Whatever Sam was about to say was forgotten as the room started to shake, the shelves clinking together from the force.

"What is that Cas?"

The angel quickly shoved the files into Sam's hands, bending down to grab the entire box he had been searching through. The shaking intensified, a few boxes falling from the top shelves, papers and files scattering across the floor.

"Cas?"

Slamming the storage door shut, Cas pulled a marker from his pocket and started drawing on the back of the wood. "It's a Knight of Hell."

"Abaddon?" Although Cas seemed to have his mojo back, Sam still didn't like to be weaponless. Especially if the red-haired demon was on her way.

"No." Cas had finished his sigil, Enochian by the looks of it.

"But I thought she was the last one?"

"She was killed but this Knight of Hell was unexpected." Cas didn't wait for a reply, just tightened his grip on the box and reaching out to touch two fingers to Sam's forehead. Right before contact, the young hunter swore he heard someone say his name.

It'd been awhile since he'd flown Angel Air so when they arrived to wherever Cas had flown them, Sam took a few seconds to calm his stomach and find his balance. The cabin in front of him resembled Rufus' old hideout, thick trees obscuring just how big the wooden house was, but also making it difficult to see the doorway. Like the bunker itself, the cabin was covered in more sigils and symbols, again related to repealing demons but also defending against them.

Not waiting for him to stop gawking, Cas strode forward, box held tightly in his arms. Sam hurried behind him, pausing with seeing a flash hidden deeper in the woods behind the house. He ignored the fact that Cas had entered the cabin, instead his eyes lingering on the shiny Impala that was parked nearly out of sight. A small smile broke when seeing the large car. Of course, Dean would never leave his baby behind. Knowing that with his brother here, they could take care of what was going on Sam quickened his pace, swiping the door open.

That same smile faded when seeing the person standing next to his feathered friend, this person having paused in his rummaging through the box Cas had brought back. Seeing familiar hazel eyes, cold and made of steel, staring back at him Sam was positive of one thing. He hated time travel.

~~~SPN~~~

Sam was freaking out. He would admit it. He had gone to bed and now found himself in some kind of parallel future. Mid-pace, Sam paused, looking over at the other two in the room with him.

Cas had a look of concern on his face, looking between the two Winchesters. Dull hazel eyes were fixed on Sam, face devoid of emotion, as they tracked his movement. Sam turned away, not being able to look at the other two for longer than a few seconds, not while he was this out of it.

Glancing about the room, Sam saw just how small the cabin was. It was one large space, the stove and fridge in one corner, complete with a small kitchen table paired with two chairs. At the back hidden by a tower of boxes, some he recognized as coming from the bunker, was a lone door that no doubt lead out the back. There wasn't a couch or TV, just a simple cot stashed away in the corner of the room. Sam beat back the panic in his stomach, it was painfully obvious that one person resided here. Like the bunker, symbols and sigils were placed everywhere, intent on keeping something out and away.

"Sam we're a little concerned about you being here."

Turning to look at the other men in the room, Sam laughed at the comment. "You aren't the only one."

"You're here for a reason. An angel sent you to this timeline for something."

Cas' comment made sense. The only angel he'd see doing something like this is Ruth, maybe either Ezal or Jesse under Ruth's orders.

"Makes sense. I got a few guesses. Can you tell who?"

Castiel stepped forward, his head tilted while studying Sam. "I can sense an angel's grace on you but it's difficult to place." The dark-haired angel drew near, lifting his hand up toward Sam's chest. He was about a foot away before a bright jolt lashed out at the outstretched hand causing Cas to grunt in surprise and pain, staggering back a few feet.

"Cas?" Concerned dual voices rang out as the two Winchesters crowded their feathered friend. Castiel was shaking out the offended limb, flexing and re-flexing his hand.

Sam looked down, pulling his collar away from himself to peer at the burn mark on his chest. Ruth had vaguely explained the mark to him when they had gotten back to the bunker. Abby had some type of ability and she'd used it to knock the angel out, the mark being collateral damage. According to Ruth the mark would fade on its own but right now it had had some kind of reaction to Castiel.

"Cas, you okay?"

The angel had recovered from the shock, looking over at Sam with a penetrating gaze. "I'm fine. Sam, can you lift your shirt?"

Pulling the cloth up, Sam could see the complete damage. It was a perfect hand print, much like Dean's had been, but significantly smaller considering how tiny Abby was. The mark was bright red, inflamed but he didn't feel any type of pain. Tracing over the swollen skin, Sam was surprised to discover that it was cool to the touch.

"There's grace coming from the mark."

Sam looked up at Cas then back down. That didn't make much sense. Ruth hadn't been possessing Abby at the time he got the burn. "But Abby did this to me. She's not an angel."

Cas' head tilted again. "Hmm…I can feel something else, deeper in the skin that isn't an angel's grace but it feels a bit familiar. That I would assume is from Abby. But on top of that, on the surface, is the angel's grace. And it's quite powerful."

"Ruth then. She's the leader of a garrison that's been helping Dean."

Cas' face turned pensive, no doubt about what Sam had just told him. The younger hunter turned to look at the older Winchester, who remained silent during the whole exchange, letting Cas lead the questioning. But Sam could see something was bothering him.

"Are you sure it was an angel named Ruth?" came Cas' gravely voice, tone a bit unsure but also curious.

Sam was nodding, remembering the conversation he'd had with her, about her identity being proven by the Cas in his timeline. He was struck with an idea. "Wait…is she alive in this timeline?"

Cas' eyes turned downward, a bit shameful. "No. She…she was killed back when I had foolishly thought myself God. Considering how powerful she was, Ruth was one of the first angels I had killed. She would have made things very difficult. I'm sorry."

Sam found himself nodding at Cas' explanation, trying hard not to think of Abby dead, burnt feathers scarring the ground around her. Shaking his head, Sam remembered what he was really curious about. "What happened at the bunker?"

There was silence before Cas' voice answered. "It was a Knight of Hell. Dean had killed Abaddon but this new Knight was very unexpected. We were surprised."

"Where's Kevin? Abby and Jack? Or Andrew?"

There was another silent exchange between his hosts, before Cas let out a sigh. "Sam, you have to understand. What you knew doesn't apply here."

"I know. I'm in the future but that's not what I asked. It looks like only one person lives here. What happened to everyone?"

"Sam." Piercing hazel eyes drilled Sam into silence, feeling a tinge of fear. "There is no Abby or Jack in this timeline. No Andrew. At least that we've met. It's a bit like when Balthazar shoved us through Bobby's window and into that other dimension."

Sam let out a breath when hearing those words. Did they even exist in this timeline? The thought made Sam a bit sad. Abby and him had gotten into their argument but he was grateful that she'd helped Dean back in Nebraska. And Jack had been incredibly adorable, the innocence he emitted was something Sam hadn't see or experienced in a long time. Chances are then that Andrew never made a second appearance. But that left one person unaccounted for. "What about Kevin? Where's he?"

There was a quick glance between the two other men, and Sam felt that unease creeping up again. He had a quick flash of the angel's memory, of his hand reaching out to smite his young friend. Abby didn't exist in this timeline, that meant there had been no one to stop the angel.

Sam's throat constricted, his mouth dry and hoarse when he spoke. "He's dead, isn't he?"

Silence from the other men gave him his answer. Sam resorted to pacing again. "It was the angel. The one that had possessed me?"

"His name was Gadreel. He was the sentry that let Lucifer into the garden."

Sam started rubbing at his forehead. Why the hell had Ruth sent him here? Was he suppose to stop something? Was Gadreel gonna comeback and try to kill Kevin again in his timeline? He started shaking his head at the thought. No way would he get anywhere close to the bunker. With Ruth and her angels guarding everyone, there was no way he'd try and make a move. Even if he managed to get by Ruth, he was positive that Dean and Abby wouldn't allow Gadreel to even breath in the general vicinity of Kevin.

"Wait, he let Lucifer into the garden, like Eden?"

Cas gave a short nod, his face hard. "He let him in and cursed mankind. It was all his fault."

Those words were bothering Sam. He felt like he was missing something. He needed to remember, just like Crowley had said. Taking in a deep breath, Sam pinched his eyes as more memories came at him. Gadreel meeting with Metatron, giving him a yellow piece of paper with Kevin's name on it. A hit? Metatron put a hit out on Kevin? He was sure what Dean's reaction to that news would be but he would save that for later. Sorting the memories mentally was giving him a headache but he was sure he found what he needed. It was himself strapped to a chair, speaking with Ruth as the others loomed behind her. She had said that she knew who Gadreel was, knew who he wasn't. That trying to kill Kevin would prove the rumors true. What was he missing? Did Gadreel really let Lucifer in? Is that Ruth had been talking about? Those rumors?

Before he could share his thoughts, Cas stepped forward. "Sam, what happened yesterday? Before you went to bed and woke up here?"

Sam eased himself back, leaning against the back of the couch, his eyes distant. "I thought we were working a case, a ghoul eating cheerleaders. That angel, Gadreel, he'd taken over and shoved me somewhere in my head. I didn't know what was going on. Crowley showed up, telling me it was all fake and to kick him out. We fought, I managed to give him the boot. The angels took us back to the bunker. Ruth ended up talking to me for a bit, kinda explaining the situation, then me and Dean had an argument. Abby got involved and that was another argument. I went to bed after that."

Cas was silent, looking over at the future Winchester for a second, and fixing his eyes back on Sam. "Kevin is alive?"

"Yeah. I think Abby had something to do with that. If there's no Abby here, it would make sense that Kevin…" The younger Winchester grew quiet at the thought. Guess Dean and him would be royally screwed if it wasn't for Abby, Ruth, and the other angels.

There was another flash of memory, shoving itself to the forefront of Sam's mind. Kevin standing before him, Jack wrapped in his arms as he drew closer. He saw the way his hand lifted, reaching out to Kevin. He could hear something faintly in the background, Jack's name being yelled by…Abby? The small child, who had been crying in terror suddenly stopped, his expression calm, blue eyes locked on Sam. The memory ended abruptly, bringing Sam back. What the hell was that about? The way Jack had stared at him, almost in a calculating way. It was unnerving.

"What about Dean?"

The question was innocent enough but the tone in which it was asked sent alarms in his head to blare. Sam looked up, eyes narrowing at the other two before looking around the room. There were things missing, certain things that he knew shouldn't be missing. Striding forward Sam made it to the fridge, swinging it open to peer at its contents. It was stocked, filled to the brim even, but it didn't have what he wanted to see. Salad fixings. Water bottles. Fruits and vegetables. No excessive amount of red meat. No bottles of beer. And not a damn slice of pie in sight. Slamming the fridge shut he spun around, "Where is he?

The other Winchester stepped forward, hands held up to show he meant no harm. "Sam let us exp-"

"Hey, I'm not above kicking my own ass so I'll ask again. Where's Dean? What aren't you telling me?"

Sam had never been so pissed off at himself, literally. Cas and future him turned to each other, having another fucking silent conversation before looking back at him.

"He's gone, Sam."

The past Winchester shook his head, pointing at the hardened version of himself. "You shut up. Cas? Where's Dean?"

He couldn't help feel this panic. Feel his stomach churn and roll with anxiety. He'd been so pissed last night, so angry at Dean he'd been seconds from throwing a fist at his brother but now? Now he didn't know what was going on.

"It's true Sam. Dean is gone."

He resorted to pacing again, trying to deny all he wanted. Not wanting to really listen to what they were saying. "When is he gonna be back? We need to talk. I gotta talk to him."

"Sam."

"No, I have to talk to him. We argued and I said some things. I was angry but I… I didn't mean it. It'll be fine, I just gotta talk to him. I need to talk to him."

"Sam!"

He was stopped mid-step, his future self grabbing a hold of his shoulders. His face was blank but Sam could see right through the mask. He knew himself. They were both in pain and, if the argument that had happened in his timeline had also happened in this one, then they were also regretful.

"Dean's dead."

~~~SPN~~~

He wasn't sure how long he sat on the couch. It was probably an hour or two but of course it felt much longer. A good few days actually. He was watching home movies but he didn't need a TV. They blazed by in his mind. When he had been going through the trails he'd remember so many things from his childhood that he'd long forgotten.

Like how Dean would read to him at night, even though he supposedly didn't like to. It had been Dean giving him praise and encouragements when he was learning to stand and walk. Or how Dean had been the one to teach him how to tie his shoes. It was Dean who taught him the alphabet, teaching him the proper sounds each letter made. And when it came time for him to read and write? Every night they sat together, paper scattered on the kitchen table, pencil in hand as Dean explained the way his hand needed to move in order to make certain letters.

There was one time, when Sam had been about five that Dean got his hands on a pair of roller blades. They weren't much to look at, the older models that clamped onto the bottom of your shoes, but it was something Dean had gotten for him. When their dad had left for a hunt Dean brought them out and Sam had practiced on the linoleum floor of the small kitchen in their motel room. During one of their stints at Bobby's, his two caregivers had decided that Sam should learn how to ride a bike. It had taken Sam the better part of two days but with Winchester stubbornness and Dean's encouragement, he'd manage to master the skill. A year later, during a warm summer day, Dean had orchestrated a water balloon fight amongst the cars in Bobby's junk yard. The fact that the older hunter had participated made that day incredible.

There were other instances too. How Dean would magically show up with little tokens for Sam like Yo-Yos, books that Dean wouldn't normally touch but would bring back for him. He still remembered the Christmas that Dean had created for them. When Sam had given him the bronze necklace as a gift. Sam didn't think it a big deal but apparently Dean had. There had been a few school fights circling that necklace. Someone would decide they wanted it for themselves and would try to take it from Dean. They had only gotten bruises and bloodied lips for their attempts.

That wasn't the only time Dean had gotten into fights. Middle school and high school had been interesting years. Puberty was running amok within the student populace and so boys, filled with heavy doses of testosterone, tried to assert themselves amongst their peers. And what better way to show off by beating on the new kid. Except they didn't know the new kid had an older brother. Their plans had been ruined the day they looked at Sam Winchester. It had never really bother him, it was only when he got older that he felt Dean was taking the protectiveness too far.

As he'd gotten older Sam felt like Dean was babying him. Always taking over and fighting for him. Like Sam couldn't handle it, which was ridiculous considering the training he'd gotten from their Dad, not to mention all the extra training he'd gotten from Dean. According to his older brother, not everyone fought fair. But looking back Sam came to the conclusion that Dean fought so Sam wouldn't get in trouble.

It was no secret that Sam enjoyed school. He loved learning, his mind whirling with any new information. But he couldn't do any of that if he was in trouble for fighting, even if it was in self defense. So Dean took the brunt of it, defending his brother so Sam could spend more time in class. It wasn't hard for Dean to play this role of delinquent as that was the aura he gave off to everyone around him.

All that had been done for him. Dean and Bobby had put these things together for Sam, so he could have fun and not have to think about anything else other than just being a kid. Dean had taken the blame so Sam could do well in school, to do what he enjoyed. But what had he given in return? What had he given his brother, as a thank you? Sam was suddenly reminded of Abby, gold eyes bright with anger.

"I am a jackass." Sam said with such certainty, paired with a small sad smile. "A stupid, self-centered jackass."

He wasn't mad anymore. He couldn't be. Since Future Sam had said those two words, any angry or betrayal he'd felt toward his brother had drained away. He'd spent roughly half an hour thinking of the argument between Dean and him at the bunker, along with his shouting match with Abby. About what he'd said to both of them.

He heard a shuffling of paper but he didn't acknowledge the other two men in the room sitting at the table, files and paper littered about. He knew they had been talking about him, how he was just sitting there. Returning back to the land of the living, Sam could hear snippets of their talk.

"…He can fix this…"

"Sam, we don't know if Dean took off already. It might be too late…"

"No, if he goes back now and wakes up at the point he left, we got a chance…'

"This is different Sam. There are different players in his timeline."

"It can still work. If we avoid what happened after the spa case, we can save still save him…"

"How did he die?"

Their chatter stopped, watching as Sam shuffled closer to the table. They did more silent communication before Cas nodded.

"I'll see you later Sam. Both of you." At that Cas fluttered away, leaving the two Winchester males alone.

"It was Metatron."

Sam sat down in Cas' vacant chair, eyes fixed on the future version of himself. Gone was the long brown hair, in it's place was a short cut much like Dean's had been and he wondered if that was his tribute. This version of himself was thinner, no doubt from when… from when it had happened. Hazel eyes were dimmer, tired. He knew this all, because they'd been here before. Back when Dean's soul had been taken by hellhounds. Back when he'd held his brother in his arms when he'd died.

"You were there. When he passed."

Future Sam was quiet, eyes fixed on the paper work in front of him. Although he wanted to know how Dean had died and slightly panicked, he was patient. He knew what he was asking of himself. Sam still didn't like to think about the state of Dean when he'd died the first time around.

"It was after Abaddon was killed and Metatron was using the angel tablet to power himself up, to become another God. He hunkered down in some abandoned warehouse with his own personal army. Dean and me were gonna go in, take him out with the First Blade."

"What's the First Blade?"

Future Sam jolted, seeming to forget that Sam wasn't from this time, he wouldn't know what he was talking about. "I guess you could say it's the first weapon ever made. The jawbone of an animal, donkey probably, fashioned into a weapon. The same one that Cain used on his brother."

Sam leaned closer. "Cain? From Cain and Abel?"

"Yeah. Except Abel wasn't talking with God. It was Lucifer. So Cain made a deal. Abel would go to Heaven and Cain would go to Hell in his place. But there was one catch. Cain had to send Abel to Heaven himself."

Sam sat back in his seat, trying to come to terms about what he was learning. The First Blade. Definitely something to research when he got back to his timeline. "What happened then?"

Future Sam was quiet, staring at the table in front of him. "He knocked me out, went to go take on Metatron by himself. By the time I came to and found them…"

Sam tried to bite back another surge of anger. It sounded like something Dean would do. But really, thinking back on all Dean had ever done for him, ever since infancy, Dean did the things he did so Sam could have just a bit of anything resembling normal. "Tell me."

His future self took in a ragged breath, eyes starting to shine. "Metatron stabbed him with an angel blade, right in the chest. Metatron took off after that so I just grabbed Dean and ran, trying to get back to the Impala. But I wasn't fast enough. I couldn't do anything for him. He…" Future Sam paused, a shuddering exhale making his bottom lip quiver slightly, looking up at his past self. "Just before he passed, he said he was proud of us."

Sam's vision was strangely swimming, his throat closing from the emotion. He tried to remember the anger because it was easier that way but he couldn't. Dean was proud of them? Proud of Sam, the ex-blood junkie, the one who chose Ruby over his own brother. The one who let Lucifer out of his cage.

"You know, I kinda hate you." His older counterpart was looking at him, tears kept in check but still making hazel eyes bright.

"Why?"

Future Sam smirked, sad and a bit mocking. "I, we, killed our brother, not Metatron."

"What?" Sam sat up in his chair, eyebrows furrowed.

"I could have fixed this. I could have saved our brother but we're just too damn stubborn aren't we? We wanted Dean to be in pain, let him feel what we felt, didn't we?"

Sam shuffled his feet. He didn't want to admit it but the thought crossed his mind. How he could make Dean suffer just like he had.

"To make him suffer for saving us. How sadistic is that? It's our fault. Our fault that Dean felt the need to go after Metatron by himself. Our fault that we weren't there to watch out for Dean." Future Sam stood up, his shoulders tense.

"Sam?"

"Eventually you'll go back to your timeline. Back to Dean while I have to stay here, knowing that I can never apologize to Dean. Tell him I'm sorry. Tell him that I lied. Tell him that if the roles were reversed, I'd do everything in my power to bring him back. Everything and anything."

Sam was quiet, trying not to bring attention to himself. He remembered Dean had asked him that same question. He remembered how he'd never answered his brother, the look of devastation on Dean's face just before Abby walked in.

"You bastard."

Jolting from the harsh tone spoken at him, Sam looked up to see anger in Future Sam's eyes. He stalked toward him, body tense and fists curled tightly. "What did you do?"

Sam was suddenly falling back in his chair, pain erupting in his cheek where the other Sam had clocked him. A shadow loomed above him and he was hauled up by the collar of his shirt, Future Sam growling in his face.

"What did you do?!"

"Nothing!"

Sam was given another fistful to the face. "You did something. What is it? What did you do to my brother?"

Sam ignored how the other Winchester claimed Dean as his own. "Nothing. Dean…yesterday, during our argument, Dean asked me the same question."

He was suddenly falling back, having been let go from Future Sam's grasp. Looking up, his counterpart was glaring at him, eyes narrowed.

"What did you say?" Hearing the way this question was said, quiet and calm, Sam knew just how close his future self was to exploding. He was on a hair trigger, and it was about to be pressed.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything."

Future Sam shook his head at Sam, backing away from him. "You son of a bitch." The words were quiet, soft but it was forgotten as the older Sam let out a roar of frustration, swiping his arm across the table, sending the box and papers flying everywhere. "You stupid son of a bitch!"

Before anymore could be said between the two men, Castiel appeared, his face in distress. "Sam, we need to leav-!"

With a shout, Cas was enveloped in a flash of white, disappearing from sight. Sam knew he had just been banished away. The cabin began to shake, the sharp sounds of splintering wood echoing as all the sigils began breaking. It was the Knight, Sam was sure of it.

"You need to go." Future Sam grabbed at his elbow, tugging him toward the back door but didn't make it. They hadn't taken more than two steps before the front door exploded, the force sending both Sams to the floor, shards of broken wood falling on them.

A bit disorientated, Sam felt hands pick him up roughly, pushing him toward the back door. He stumbled forward, but he wasn't quick enough as the familiar sense of Demon-kinesis locked onto his body, throwing him against the wall, a mere three feet from his exit. Struggling to stand up, he felt himself being lifted and slammed against the wall again, pain digging into his body.

Pressed into the floor, hands grabbing at his throat was Future Sam, struggling to breath. Footfalls could be heard as the demon walked into the cabin. A familiar chuckling had Sam's heart pounding in his chest as the demon drew closer. Lifting his head, Sam's throat closed in despair as coal-black eyes sparked with glee from the face of the one person who had been there for Sam, ever since he was six months old.

"No…" Sam could hear how his own voice wavered, the tone itself in agony. "No…"

The same smirk that signified playfulness was twisted and perverted into something akin to sinister as those same black eyes disappeared, familiar hazel eyes staring back at him.

"Hiya Sammy."

Get there. I know Sam is probably OCC, kinda makes considering it's a fanfic. I liked how this ended so I decided to post it. Let me know what you think. Also, let me know of any grammar mistakes. Peace. Out. -Mez