"Dammit Cas, let me sleep."

"It's not Cas."

Dean sat bolt upright in bed, clutching at the phone tightly.

"'Mione?"

"Dean." She acknowledged coolly.

He sagged and leaned back against his pillow.

"You okay? Where are you?"

"I'm fine and I'm at home. You?"

"Good, I'm...good."

There was silence for a moment before Hermione sighed.

"Dean..."

"No." He snapped.

"You have to forgive him at some point."

"Forgive him!" Dean's grip on the phone increased until it almost cracked. "Hermione, he started the damn Apocalypse, he chose a demon over his own brother. He drank demon blood and he bit you!"

"And he's very sorry about that. Dean, he's your brother. Don't let this tear him away from you."

"Dammit, you could play Devil's advocate to Stalin, couldn't you?"

"Stalin, unlike your brother, probably was evil, especially considering what he did to his own family." She trailed off. "Stop distracting me."

"But it's so fun."

Dean smirked as he listened to the silence of Hermione trying to work out what he meant.

"Right. Dean just...call him. Please. He's out at the moment but..."

"He's with you?"

"No, I just told you, he's out at the moment."

"Hermione..." Dean warned darkly.

"Don't you even think of trying that tone with me, Winchester. Living with Sam's puppy dog eyes is more than enough. He found this organic green grocers down the street and I swear if he brings back one more type of apple, I'm going to pelt him with it." She paused. "Or make toffee apples." She added thoughtfully before her tone darkened. "I don't suppose you want to explain why he's spent the last day wandering around my flat looking like a dog that got kicked in the face by its owner?"

"He'll be fine on his own."

There was a rush of static as Hermione swore under her breath.

"You don't make my job any easier, Winchester." She hissed.

"And what is that job of yours? Cas still won't tell me what your damn orders are."

"I doesn't concern you." she told him coldly. "It's not his fault. He's terrified that Lucifer is going to find him."

"Then he'd better not say yes." Dean snapped.

"You and I both know they have ways of making people agree to things." Hermione reminded him solemnly.

"'Mione, I need some sleep." Dean begged.

She sighed and her tone softened.

"All right. Just...think about it, at least? He misses you. We both do."

Dean grunted and he could almost hear the eye roll she gave in return.

"Get some rest, you Neanderthal."

"Night, 'Mione."

"Mmm."

Dean approached the threshold of the camp, praying that the photograph he'd seen at Bobby's had been correct. He'd only been in 2014 for few hours and since Zachariah wasn't answering his prayers, he had no choice but to find someone else to help him. Carefully, he clambered over the fence and shivered, his skin breaking out in goose bumps. Hermione didn't often put up wards when they stayed somewhere as they interfered with Sam's laptop, but Dean had been through them enough times to know what they felt like. And there was only one hunter he knew of who could use magic.

"'Mione." he murmured, starting forward.

Something smacked across the back of his head and he fell forward into the grass, instantly unconscious.

Dean Winchester lowered the stick, staring at his double in irritation. This was the last thing he needed right now.

Dean swam in and out of consciousness as his tired body tried to rouse him. People were talking nearby and the noise sent jolts of pain through his skull.

"I don't care about "temporal energies"" A man snapped close by. "I want to know how the hell he got through your wards."

A woman spoke up and she sounded worryingly familiar.

"The wards worked fine. They're keyed to you, after all. He is you! That's how he got in..."

"He's not me!"

Dean drifted off again, trying to put a name to that voice.

The second time he woke, his arm was bent uncomfortably over his head and handcuffed to a ladder. The bigger problem was his duplicate sitting at the table, sliding the magazine into a very large assault rifle.

"You want to tell me why I shouldn't shoot you?" Other Dean asked.

"You'd only be hurting yourself?" Dean joked nervously, tugging on the handcuffs.

"You're hilarious." Other Dean set the gun down on the table and scratched his nose. "When are you from?" He demanded.

Dean's eyes widened.

"How the hell did you know that?"

His future self sighed.

"Well, I had the world expert in Dean friggin' Winchester come and have a look at you and then I had to listen to a very long explanation about time travel. So, why don't you tell me when you're from and how you got here?"

"World expert...?" Dean shook his head. "Zachariah. I'm you, from about 2009. He snatched me from my bed and dropped me here."

"Where is he?" Other Dean demanded.

"I don't know."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes!" Dean sighed. "I just want to get back to my own damn time and get some sleep!"

He took a closer look at his future self. The other Dean stood the same, but had deeper shadows under his eyes. He looked older and rougher and if the world was as fucked up as Zachariah said it was then he had every reason to.

"So what, Zach zapped you up here to see what happens?"

He shrugged.

"I guess. That's their endgame, right? The Croatoan virus?"

"Yeah. It's efficient, incurable and scary as hell. Turn people into monsters." Other Dean began adding weaponry to his duffle bag. "Started hitting the major cities a few years ago. World kinda fell apart after that."

"What about Sam?"

Other Dean stilled.

"Heavyweight showdown in Detroit. Sam wanted back in the game and he'd been hunting up there. For what she...I've been told, Sam didn't make it out."

For a second Dean just stared at him in shock.

"We weren't with him?"

"No..." He looked away. "Me and Sam haven't talked in...hell, five years."

Dean swallowed, sick at the thought of his brother dying alone without him there.

"We never tried to find him?" He managed.

"We, have other people to look after now." Future Dean scooped up the bag and turned to leave. "I've gotta run an errand."

"And you're just going to leave me here?"

"Yes. I've got a camp of trigger happy hunters out there who do not need to see some weird ass version of the "Parent Trap.""

"You don't have to cuff me!" He protested.

"Yes. I do." Other Dean left muttering something that sounded like, "How the hell does she put up with me?"

"Dick." Dean decided and began working on his cuffs.

Escaping the cabin was surprisingly easy. Getting across the camp...less so.

"Hey, Dean."

"Uh, hi Chuck." Dean cut across the Prophet. "Listen, I don't suppose you know where Cas is, do you?"

Chuck stared at him.

"Uh, yeah. In his cabin. You okay?"

Dean nodded slowly and headed in the direction Chuck had indicated as quickly as possible. Castiel's cabin, (And since when did an angel need a cabin?) was set on the outskirts of the camp. There was a bead curtain hanging across the doorway and what looked like mangled dream catchers hung every few feet, festooned with everything from broken glass to feathers. Dean pushed through the curtain and stepped into the cabin. The air was warm and heavy and filled with strange scent that Dean suspected he didn't want to identify. An angel lay fallen in the centre of the room, arms outstretched and a strangely haunted smile on his face. Castiel's hair had grown and it curled around his face and several days worth of stubble cover his chin. One of those electric blue eyes snapped open when Dean moved further into the room and glared at him.

"She was right." The angel murmured, and the eye closed as he gave a soft, mocking laugh. "She always is, don't know why I was surprised."

"Cas?" Dean demanded, because he needed the confirmation that this really was the same stuck-up angel he left in 2009. "What...the hell?"

"What year?" Castiel demanded and made no move to get off the floor. He was shirtless and in the dim light Dean can see a network of tattoos. There's an anti-possession under his collar bone, a string of what looks like Enochian across his hip and a small crescent moon above his heart.

"2009."

"So you are unenlightened." Castiel's eyelids flicker and Dean gets the impression the angel is rolling his eyes. "Wonderful."

"Yeah, it's great. Listen, can you take me back? Strap on your angel wings?"

Castiel vaults to his feet in one smooth movement and glares at Dean, eyes wide open.

"Trust me, I'd love to put on my wings as you call it, but uh...no dice for the ex-angel." His voice is rough and his breath is tinged with the same sweet scent as the room. He turned away and Dean saw his last tattoo, a large pair of wings folded neatly against his back. The feathers twitch as he moves and rearrange themselves more comfortably against his skin. Dean stared at them in shock, before rubbing his eyes and focusing on something else.

"Why not?" Dean frowned. "Are you high?" He added, confused.

"Generally, yeah." Castiel rubbed at the moon tattoo and sighed, a shadow crossing his face.

"What happened to you?" Dean asked carefully.

"Life." the angel gave him a dreamy smile. "Far too much of it."

Dean settled back against the wall, ignoring the glare his future self shot him. Apparently he was pissed about finding himself outside of the cabin. On the other side of the wooden walls, someone hummed, too quietly for Dean to make out the tune.

"If I tell you something will you shut up?" Other Dean begged.

Smug, Dean nodded.

"Who's still alive?"

"That you know...? Cas. Chuck..." Other Dean squinted at the wall. "Huh."

"What?"

"All my friends are dead."

Dean ignored that.

"What happened to Cas?"

Future Dean sighed, sitting down in the nearest chair and topping up Dean's glass of whiskey.

"He wasn't so bad, after he lost his powers. He had someone and she kept him afloat. But he lost her not long ago and he's just gone downhill from there."

"And the tattoos?"

Other Dean shrugged.

"His choice. They're important to him and everyone's got anti-possession ones anyway."

"Those wings moved."

"They're..." He cast around for the right word. "Magical tattoos. Apparently they move just like his old one did. I dunno, I never saw the damn things myself."

"So Sam's..." They both winced. "Not here." He finished. "And everyone else I knew is dead?"

Other Dean sighed.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"So whose the witch who did your wards, if it wasn't Hermione?"

Other Dean froze and now he knew what he looked like when he was trying to think of a lie.

"Oh, don't bother." Dean snapped. "I heard the two of you talking. Can I see her?"

"NO!"

They stared each other for a moment, before Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Jeeze, overreact much?"

"Oh, shut it."

"She okay?"

"Mostly, yeah. Busy, ain't enough magic to go around and all that jazz."
"Why the hell is she still here? Why not just go home?"

Other Dean scowled.

"Those sons of bitches closed their borders after the first big outbreak. Magically sealed themselves off from the rest of the world. No one goes in or out and I mean...they literally can't. They've created like this pocket universe of houses and towns and crap, all interconnected. She doesn't like talking about it. The point is that she was with me when it happened. Wasn't long after Sam...well yeah. She'd been lucky to get out of Detroit alive and now...She's stuck, like Cas. Slightly more powerful, but still...There were a bunch of 'em who'd been outside when the barrier closed but we lost most of them six months ago. 'Mione and Cas took it pretty hard."

The humming was louder now and Dean can finally make out the tune.

"Hey Jude? Seriously?"

Other Dean rolled his eyes and for a second looked like it wasn't the end of the world as he smiled fondly.

"It's the only thing that gets the baby to sleep."

Dean stared at him.

"You have a kid here?"

"Safest place for 'im." There's something mulish in his expression as though he'd had an argument on this subject several times.

"Yeah? At the camp with the high ex-angel, the guns and Chuck?"

Dean watched himself grind his teeth. Why hadn't he had a heart attack yet?

"His mom's pretty stubborn."

He can hear words now, coming through the walls of the adjoining cabin.

"Teach us something please, whether we be old and grey or young with scabby knees..."

"What the hell?"

Other Dean flushed.

"She doesn't...uh...know the words so she just uses those ones."

"...stuff. Right now they're bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff..."

"That kid's gonna be seriously messed up. Who's the father?"

"Just one of the hunters." Not quite a lie, but pretty damn close. Dean could read his own face after all.

"...Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts..."

"Tell me how I change this?"

"No."

Dean gaped at his future self in shock as they waited for the various lieutenants to assemble.

"No?"

"No. You'll work it out for yourself and if you don't, remember to stock up on bandages. You're gonna need them."

"What? You want this to happen? You want the world to end?"

"No!" Other Dean snarled. "I don't. But there are some things I don't want to risk changing. Sometimes you take the good with the bad and be damn grateful for it, all right?"

Dean sighed, leaning back against a post.

"Why isn't Hermione coming?" He asked casually.

"What?"

"This big raid against Lucifer." Dean smirked. "You said it yourself, she's got more power than Cas does. Why ain't she going?"

"She's got different priorities." He avoided Dean's eyes, smoothing a map across the table. "The camps vulnerable without her magic..."

"No, that's not it." Dean sobered. "You're not coming back, are you? This ain't a plan, it's a damn suicide attempt! You're taking the easy way out!"

"Don't you dare!" Other Dean drew his knife and advanced. "Don't think you know a damn thing about me or my life, you son of a bitch. You don't know what I'm leaving behind. I've got my reasons for this, reasons you couldn't even get your head around." There was a knock at the door and Future Dean backed off. "So just shut your mouth. Hermione can't come. Not on this." He finished in a whisper.

"Don't doubt his motives." Castiel murmured.

Dean glanced over at him where he was leaning against the car, semi-automatic propped against one shoulder.

"Our fearless leader." The ex-angel smirked. "He has his reasons for what he does. I know there are some things he thinks you shouldn't see, but I've not been very good at following the rules recently." He grabbed Dean's shoulder and shoved him roughly, forcing him to turn. He followed Castiel's line of sight until he could see one of the other cabins which hadn't seemed to belong to anyone. For a moment nothing happened and then Dean, Other Dean, stepped out onto the porch. In the shadows Dean could just make out another figure, standing in the doorway.

"What..." He manages, but his future self turns and bends down, pressing his forehead against the shadowy figure. They're almost completely hidden behind Dean's body, but it looks like they're kissing.

He turned back to Castiel.

"Who?"

The smirking ex-angel ducked into his truck.

"Now, that'd be telling."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of gunfire and pain. Lucifer's taunts, made all the more vicious coming from Sam's lips, haunt him and he's only too pleased to be saved from Zachariah by Castiel.

She was having lunch with Ron when Sam called. Ron looked at the ringing phone with interest.

"I've got one of those." He told her. "Dunno how to use it. Harry promised to show me."

Hermione winced apologetically and answered the phone.

"Granger?"

"Dean called." For a second there's utter silence before the noise of the cafe begins to intrude again and Hermione breaths out.

"And...?" she whispered.

"He wants to meet up." Sam told her, sounding both excited and terrified.

Her eyes met Ron's over the table and she sighed.

"When?"

"Three hours or so?"

Hermione nodded.

"I'll be back in two." she hung up.

"Work?" Ron asked.

She nodded tiredly and tried to think of a lie that would get her out of the rest of the afternoon.

"Hey, Hermione?"

The witch turned when he tugged on her shoulder, allowing Sam and Castiel to draw off in front of them.

"What's wrong?" She asked gently.

"Nothing. It just uh..." He ruffled his hair and winced. "I feel kinda dumb for asking but, do you know what "Hogwarts" means? I know the word from somewhere and I just..."

Hermione chuckled.

"You heard it from me, I suspect. Hogwarts was my school. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft, don't flinch, and Wizardry."

"Right..." Dean swallowed or tried to. His mouth had gone very dry. "Random thought but, did your school have a song?"

She gaped at him, eyes bright.

"Yes! Well, not exactly. There's no official tune so it's sung to whatever music comes to mind." She rolled her eyes. "You can imagine. Seven hundred people, all singing differently. Chaos." Hermione frowned at him. "Are you all right? You've gone very pale."

"Huh." Was all he said. She sighed and jogged to catch up with Sam.

Well, maybe, maybe, the future wasn't that bad.

This chapter is dedicated to Chris7100. Get well soon!

A/N I've been looking forward to that. Had it mostly written for months.

Please let me know what you think of this chapter. It'd mean a lot to me and I'd like to know what you pick up on.

Special thanks to:

AmyRenee55, Shenandoah76209 (I will), RichelleD, Shandra23 (I hope your weekend was good), Chris7100, sakiy, angel897, BrightStar (Scotland), ChelsMels (You might) and punkredhead.

Hood