Chapter Nine
Zachariah reached his fingers out towards the Winchesters' foreheads.
"Wait!" said Dean. Zachariah looked at him. "I'm not going anywhere without my baby."
Zachariah frowned. "Your baby?"
"My car," clarified Dean.
Zachariah sighed, glaring at Dean before disappearing.
"Quick thinking, Dean," said Future Sam.
Zachariah appeared a moment later. "Your precious car is waiting for you back in your time." He began walking towards the brothers.
Sam and Dean turned towards their future selves.
"Catch ya on the flip side," winked Dean.
Zachariah touched his fingertips to their foreheads, there was a flash of white, and the boys found themselves on the side of the road, about where that time barrier had been.
"Whoa!" said Dean as he swayed, putting a hand on the roof of the Impala. He looked up to see Sam doing the same. "That was a hell of a ride."
"Yeah," said Sam. He looked up at Dean. "You don't think Zachariah went through the Impala, did you?"
Dean gave him a look, and they headed for the trunk. Dean pulled out his keys and unlocked the trunk. He opened the weapons compartment, and they rifled through it.
"Got it," said Sam, pulling out the folder they'd put together.
"Thank God," said Dean. "What's first?"
Sam and Dean spent the next few months taking down their regular cases, counting down the days until they could kill Yellow-Eyes.
They had arrived in Saginaw, Michigan, in time to save Jim Miller. Unfortunately, Max still shot himself; looks like Dean was right: they were twenty years too late.
They turned the cops onto the hillbilly family.
They found Meg before she killed the two from Lawrence and exorcized her. The real Meg Masters went back home to her little sister in Andover, Massachusetts.
They stopped Craig from putting the Tibetan spirit sigil in that hell house in Richardson, Texas, by stealing that page out of his books.
They caught Dr. Hydecker feeding on the little girl and shot him, saving the kids from the shtriga.
They salted and burned the doll in the Merchant tomb before Melanie Merchant killed the Telescas.
They cleaned out the vampire nest before they could kill Daniel Elkins. They talked to the old hunter, who then loaned them the Colt. It was around that time that they got a phone call.
Dean was driving down the road in Colorado, headed for Iowa, when his cell phone rang. He pulled it out. "Hello?"
"Hey, Dean."
Dean looked over at Sam. "Dad." Sam looked over at him, intrigued.
"What have you boys been up to?" asked John.
"What do you mean?" asked Dean.
"There's been word going around the hunter community that two hunters matching your description taking care of hunts before they even start."
"Uh, yeah, about that," said Dean. "We got a big lead on the demon. Meet us in Salvation, Iowa."
"I'll be right there," said John, hanging up.
"He's meeting us?" asked Sam.
"Yeah," said Dean. "It's time to end this."
John stared at them, wide-eyed. They were in a two-bed motel room in Salvation, Iowa.
"So, you boys went to the future, and that's where you learned all this?" asked John.
"Yeah," said Dean. "And now we're trying to change that future."
John shook his head in amazement. He looked up at Sam. "You were really drinking demon blood?"
Sam shrugged. "Apparently. Although I can't imagine ever doing it."
"And now this demon—Azazel—is going to be at this woman's house tonight?" asked John.
"Yes," said Sam.
"Then let's get moving," said John, standing.
"Wait, Dad, you can't go," said Dean.
"Why not?" asked John.
"Because we've read the books," said Dean. "We know exactly where they're gonna step and when. We can take care of this."
"I can help," said John. "You can't cut me out of this fight."
"You'll be in it," said Sam. "In about five minutes, they're gonna call, telling you to meet them with the Colt. You're going to bring them a fake Colt to buy time for us to kill the demon." He winced a little as a headache began forming behind his eyes.
John nodded. "Works for me."
"It should," said Dean. "You're the one who came up with the plan in the first place."
"Then what?" asked John.
"Well, after the demon's dead, we can, uh…" began Sam, rubbing his temples with the pads of his fingertips. "We can finish our other hunts, and—gosh—"
"Sam?" asked Dean.
Sam inhaled sharply as he grabbed his head. "My head!"
Dean rushed forward as Sam collapsed to his knees, clutching his head. "Sam!"
Sam watched as his view of the room disappeared in a flash of white, and he found himself looking at a nursery in a house. A woman with black hair in a white nightgown stood at a crib, smiling down at her baby. She left the room, and the clock pinging out a lullaby stopped. A man in a jacket appeared in the room, looking down at the crib with his yellow eyes. He reached his arm out, slicing open his wrist, and dripped blood into the baby's mouth. The nursery door opened, and the woman looked at the man.
"What are you—" she began, heading for the crib.
She was forced up against the wall, sliding up to the ceiling over the crib.
"Rosie!" she called.
Her stomach was sliced open as fire burst across the ceiling.
There was a flash of white, and Sam looked up into Dean's worried face.
"Oh, man," said Sam as he put a hand to his forehead to quell the raging migraine. "Future me wasn't kidding. Those really do hurt."
"It was a vision, wasn't it?" asked Dean. Sam nodded. "What did you see?"
"That woman Monica getting killed by the demon," said Sam.
"Okay," said Dean, grateful that it was something they already knew.
"Alright, what now?" asked John. Sam's cell phone began to ring.
Dean looked over at their father. "Showtime."