Synopsis: Sam Winchester buried his brother on a Saturday. Exactly two years later he returns to the grave and finds it recently excavated. The area surrounding it is blown apart like a bomb went off; the body is nowhere to be found.

Dean is offered two choices, say yes to Michael in heaven or say yes to Alistair in hell. What if, in true Dean Winchester fashion, he says yes to both? What happens when a human plays both sides of the celestial table? What can he become? And what if the soul returned to the body is one that is "out of time"?

Legalities: Supernatural belongs to Kripke Enterprises and the CW. I am not making any money off this, I am simply playing in the brilliant sandbox that Kripke created when he thought of the Winchesters and their supernatural world.

NO SLASH. This is set in an off-shoot of canon and is ultimately based in an alternate universe. Brotherly moments only. Rated-T for violence and mild-language. I will post updates on Wednesdays and Sundays, unless I get an enormous response in which case I may post earlier.

Chapter 12

Salvage

The old salvage yard looked the same as it had the last time he'd seen it. God, it felt like a lifetime ago. And if he was honest with himself, it had been. That life was when he'd been simply Dean Winchester. Before Cold Oak, that bitch of a crossroads demon and of course Lilith and that night in Indiana. That unending night that came complete with hellhounds and the desperation of Sam's cry for help. Dean furrowed his eyebrows as the memories dredged up pieces of emotions he thought were long buried beneath his time in the pit.

The sun was just clearing the fall horizon, so it was early in South Dakota. Luckily Dean knew that Bobby wasn't a late sleeper, or much a sleeper at all. Old hubcaps hung along the perimeter fencing, but Dean knew that they were just hiding the sigils and devil's traps that lined Singer Salvage yard. Prior to his time in Hell, Dean wouldn't have recognized half of those signs. But one of Alistair's favorite games had been to carve the many sigils into Dean's flesh until he managed to guess what they meant. The game never ended until he'd managed to guess correctly. Sometimes Dean figured it out quickly and sometimes he had almost no flesh left by the time he finally managed to guess correctly.

With enormous effort Dean buried the memories as he pulled the Impala up next to the gate. He sighed with irritation and tilted his head to the side at the large demon's trap that was welded into the gate. Damn-it Bobby. He cursed silently before getting out of the car and slamming the driver's door shut. A tiny part of him winced at the rough treatment of his baby. The angel was silently watching him from the passenger seat; he'd made no move to try and help Dean.

Damn feather brained idiot hasn't said a word in a thousand miles. Dean's eyes narrowed and he slammed his fist into a hubcap leaning against the edge of the gate.

Turning back toward the car he called out, "Listen feathers, I need you to either break this trap or go get Bobby, so he can break it." He tried to keep the hard edge from his voice, but judging by the irritated look on the angel's face, he'd failed miserably.

Castiel raised an eyebrow before slowly opening the door and climbing out. His blue eyes traveled along the warded gate and then to the many sigils etched throughout the property. "If this 'Bobby' has set up wards to keep your kind out? I will not break them."

He stood there in his tan trench coat with a quizzical look on his face as he watched the hybrid's face turn several shades of red.

"Get. In. There. And. Bring. Bobby. Out." Dean ground out through clenched teeth. His fists were balling up causing the blisters to pop on his right wrist and the scab to break open on his partially healed left one. A wash of pain simply irritated the oldest Winchester rather than interrupt his growing ire.

The angel's head titled again and with a huff of indignation he disappeared in flutter of wings.

Dean ran his fingers through his blonde hair, an attempt to control his agitation as he waited. He had never been patient as a human, but as a demon? He positively sucked the big one at waiting. His eyes caught a glint of light off the handcuffs as the sun rose over the horizon. Dean shook them and then grimaced when pain flared along his wrist. The skin was basically one big red blistering scab. As disturbing and painful as it was, he was a bit fascinated by the many different shades of red. There was new blood, old blood and the dark red of the thick scabs that wrapped around his entire wrist and had started to travel up his arm.

"Well that's just frickin peachy." He groaned.

A fluttering of wings pulled his gaze up. The angel was back and standing next to him was one very pissed off and moderately confused Bobby Singer. The old man look healthy enough, apparently losing the Winchester boys hadn't adversely affected him. At least not that Dean could see. Dean stepped toward him and Bobby pulled violently away from the angel. His eyes blown wide in shock and increasing anger as he stared dumbfounded, at Dean.

"No. You can't be alive. What the hell are you?!" He seethed. Bobby was ready to bolt right back through that gate and into the house where Dean knew he couldn't follow. At least not without the old man's help. There was one thing that Bobby Singer wasn't; and that was stupid. Dean knew from many years of staying inside that house that the old hunter had hidden traps and sigils throughout the place. He hoped like hell that Bobby would help him because he couldn't do this without him. His gaze slid sideways to the angel and he grudgingly accepted that he needed Castiel's help too. And frankly that just pissed him off.

"Sam's in trouble." Dean said; there was no emotion in his voice as he stared at the other hunter. If that didn't peak Bobby's interest, nothing would.

"I'm sure he is." He paused for moment before repeating, "I asked you a question. What the hell are you?" Bobby's blue eyes shifted between Dean and the trench coat wearing man to his right. He knew that the man couldn't be a demon, because he wouldn't have gotten past the front gate. But the fact that Bobby was now staring at the physical body of one of the Winchester boys, boys he'd considered 'his' and he hadn't been able to come in? Well, that fact was not lost on him.

Green eyes that held a depth of emotion that shouldn't be possible stared at Bobby, willing him to believe his next words. "Bobby, I'm me. You taught me how to repair the engine on a '57 Chevy when I was nine. Sam jumped out the second story window and broke his arm when was six. Too many superman cartoons on Saturday mornings." He shrugged his shoulders and walked around the stunned the hunter.

Dean licked his lips and allowed his eyes to shift to green-black before stopping in front of the old man again. "I'm not the same person I was before the pit. I haven't been that kid for a very long time." He chuckled when the shock flooded Bobby's expression; he backed away from Dean. "But I am Dean Winchester. And I need your help to save my brother."

"Oh god." Bobby breathed before looking over at Castiel. "You're a demon? Really?" Bobby had imagined, hell he'd had nightmares about what might have happened to Dean after the deal came due. But he'd never even considered that the boy would come back as a demon. Good God, if he was really honest with himself, he'd never really thought about what happened to a soul when it went to hell.

The possibilities were too horrific his guilt for losing Dean was still overwhelmingly strong. Bobby had been the one to walk away from Dean after Sam's death in Cold Oak. He'd known that John's oldest son was capable damn near anything where Sam was concerned. So the fact that Dean had gone to a crossroads demon seeking a way to bring his little brother back was as much Bobby's fault as it was Dean's. If he'd been there, he might have been able to talk some sense into the idgit. "If you are Dean, and I'm not saying you are, what the hell do you want with me? Not exactly a big fan of demons. Which my Dean would know."

Dean rolled his eyes and blew out a long-suffering breath, almost like it was painful to explain this, again, to the man staring at him with horror etched in his eyes. "I already told you. Sam is in trouble." Bobby raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "So?" He knew that demon's didn't feel emotional connections to humans. That was something that was burned out of them in hell, or so he'd been told. So there was no way that this thing staring at him with Dean's face was worried about his little brother's well being.

Blonde eyebrows shot up and wearing Dean's body snorted. "So? Really, so?! What the hell?" He shook his head and let his eyes drift over to the angel before pulling them back to Bobby. "So, he's my brother. I'm not gonna let him die, or worse."

He pointed in Castiel's direction with his thumb before continuing. "These feathered douchebags want to use Sam to jumpstart the damn apocalypse. You really wanna see that? I don't." His voice shifted from irritated to icy cold. "But they don't just want to destroy the world, no they want to turn Sam into the walking embodiment of evil." He cast rage-filled eyes at Castiel.

"What?" Bobby asked incredulously. He wasn't sure that he'd heard that correctly.

Dean ground his teeth together, "They want Sam to be Lucifer's meat suit. The want beef up his body, steal it and then shove Lucifer in; like some sort of god-damn body snatching movie."

Castiel finally had had enough. "I have already told you why I am here. I will not keep explaining myself to you."

Dean's face twitched with barely controlled anger as he glared at the angelic being. He wasn't aware that his eyes had shifted; the green was bright against the inky black.

Bobby watched the exchange, but it was the shift in Dean that caught his attention.

"What are you?" He asked.

He wanted to know about the one that had shown up inside his house. The man had placed a hand on his shoulder and hauled Bobby to the edge of his property without his consent. But it was Dean that scared him. Whatever deal he'd struck to get out of hell, it couldn't be good.

"Oh him?" Dean said, his arm rising in an irritated solute. "He's your run of the mill, angel of the lord."

Castiel's eyebrow rose at the condemnation he heard in the hybrid's voice. His eyes flickered to Bobby's when the old man laughed out loud. "Bullshit, there's no such thing."

"See now that's what I said." Dean shot back.

The angel stepped back and the sky darkened as he demonstrated that there were indeed angels in this universe. The thunder clapped and Bobby ducked without thinking about it. The wind whipped at his baseball cap, causing him to reach up and pull it further down onto his head. After a few moments the weather anomaly died along with all of Bobby's denial.

"Okay, he's an angel and you're what? A demon? Why are you working together? And what the hell do you want from me?" He leaned against the sturdy post that secured the large iron gates of his property.

Dean stopped smiling immediately and stepped forward, his strange eyes aglow with the anticipation of revealing what he was. "Oh, I'm something else entirely." His eyelids dropped closed and he lifted the cloak of invisibility from his own grey wings, the effect was the same as the angel's but without the weather channel preview.

The grey wings spread wide from his shoulders and extended in about 7 feet each direction. They weren't shadows like Castiel's had been, these were full blow wings. The black in his eyes faded as the green took on a luminescent quality. Pain burned along his arm, but it was worth it to see Bobby's reaction. True he had limited use of his powers, but revealing what himself was still within his power. And judging by the way Bobby's mouth fell open and he leaned heavily against the gate, he was still spectacular.

Castiel shook his head and stepped close to Bobby. "We do not wish to harm you. But I need him to find his brother. It is the only way to stop my brothers from doing something awful."

"What…wha…" Bobby stuttered.

"I'm a hybrid." Dean simplified it like it was everyday a hunter met an angel-demon hybrid; just hanging out in their front yard, asking them to help save the damn world. He stepped forward as Dean's eyes faded back to the familiar jade green Bobby had seen staring back at him for more than twenty years. But as Dean stared at him, the memories of his childhood raced to the surface of his mind. Dean saw Sam kneeling in front of him, his face a mass of bruises and blood. And over his brother Dean stood brandishing an ancient looking scythe.

"It is for family that you must proceed, Dean. To become what you've become; to become what your are? It's a stain on your family."

Dean looked down at his brother and he knew that he was the one that had beaten Sammy into submission. Because there wasn't a soul alive that had the ability to do that except 'him'. Shame washed through him at the realization that he done this. Dean had tricked his brother into coming knowing that he was going to kill him. Because that was Death's price to lock him away; to save the world from the darkness that Dean stood witness to. When he'd taken on the mark he hadn't known that it would fundamentally change who he was at his core.

"Sammy, close your eyes." It was as close to begging as Dean Winchester could get. "Sam, close your eyes." He repeated when his brother continued to stare up at him. A memory surfaced when Sam had looked at him the same way. But it hadn't been his imminent death that had driven the disappointed look in his brother's blue-green eyes. It had been Dean's desire to give up the fight and accept the hand that destiny had dealt him.

And now as he stared down at the pictures Sammy had laid at his feet, Dean knew that he couldn't go through with it. It didn't matter that his refusal would release the 'darkness' back into the world. He couldn't go against the one rule that had driven every decision he'd made his entire life, 'protect Sammy'.

With a physical 'pop', Dean was back in the present. He clenched his teeth as the two parts of his soul once again warred with one another and his mind kept throwing fractured memories of life he hadn't lived.

Because I said 'yes'.

Bobby's eyes flickered up to Castiel. "What's wrong with him?"

"A reaper has been inside his head."

"You let a reaper get all up in ya?" He couldn't have heard that right; he glanced over at Dean. Dean didn't say anything, the dazed look in his eyes said it all; he had felt whatever that thing had shown him. "A reaper, really?"

Castiel inhaled slowly, "Many biblical entities are real."

Bobby's gaze flickered back, Dean's eyes had taken on a far off glassy look and his face was pinched in a pain that both physical and emotional. "I'm gonna need more than that."

"Dean is unique. There has never been something like him. He carries within him both the demonic powers of hell and the angelic grace of heaven. The human soul was not created to control that type of power. It is simply not capable of withstanding the split between light and dark. Both halves of his soul are fighting for control over Dean. Eventually one side will win." At least he hoped that was going to happen. But he wasn't going to tell these humans that he had no clue what would happen as Dean progressed further down this path. Would Dean's soul survive the metamorphosis? Could it? Castiel didn't know.

God had placed a great worth on the human soul and Castiel was nothing if not loyal, he would not disobey the intentions of God. Stopping the betrayal his brothers and sisters intended to put in motion, well that was his mission now. He would see that God's greatest creations were not destroyed through the ignorance and personal agendas of heaven's hosts.

SPN SPN SPN

Sam sagged as his legs cramped up again, an involuntary groan escaping when the pain shot up his legs making him want to vomit. The suit had been back over and over, forcing him to swallow the metallic tasting demon blood. Every time his head would ring and his eyes would blur when the spasms spread along every nerve leaving pain and weakness behind it.

The bastards didn't offer him food or water, just vials of foul tasting blood. Each time he felt a little less like himself for hours following the blood entering his system. The thing that was clawing at the inside of his skull was getting faster and stronger as it targeted a specific place. He couldn't feel his arms anymore and the pain in his jaw from being forced open was anything but pleasant.

Being left alone for so long had given Sam too much time to think. He couldn't help but wonder where Dean was and was he okay? Had his brother gone dark side while he'd been gone? The youngest Winchester had too many questions and no answers. A slow understanding of the choices his brother dawned on him the longer he was forced to hang around and think about it.

In the deep down places inside, where he didn't like to venture, Sam had to admit that he would have done anything to bring Dean back after the hellhounds. So was it really so impossible that Dean had made choices to get him back topside? The bloody memories of Dean lying on the floor raced through his head and he swallowed at the violence of the image. Hell, he'd tried to make a deal with the crossroads demons, but none of them would deal. Not that he would ever be telling Dean that. His brother would be seriously pissed at just the though of Sam talking to a crossroads demon. A part of him wondered if he would have been strong enough to fight his way out of hell? Sam sure as hell hoped so.

His eyes shifted to the dark corner where the angel always emerged. There was nothing there. No door, no window, nothing. The part of him that had always looked up to his brother knew that Dean was one of the strongest people he'd ever met. In fact, as far as Sam was concerned, his brother had been stronger even than their father. Not because he'd been bigger or meaner, or even a better hunter. No, because Dean had managed to keep his humanity while wading though the death and destruction that had been their childhood. Somehow his brother had never lost the spark that made him Dean.

Could hell really burn away the part of his big brother that had raised Sam?

XXXX

Their trip to the house was quick and uneventful as Bobby steered them around the numerous traps that were spread throughout the yard. He stomped up the creaky wooden stairs and stopped just before entering the old wooden door.

"Before I let you in this house, you either take a shot of holy water, or…" His gaze dropped to the handcuffs and the obvious effect they were having on Dean. "Or put those on both hands. I know they block your powers. Cuz you ain't coming in my home otherwise."

He had expected something like this from Bobby, but he'd hoped that the old hunter would believe him enough to skip this part. He knew that once they placed that second cuff, his body would start burning away at a slow but steady rate. Eventually the damn thing would start on his soul and then? Poof, no more Dean.

A dark glare was his only answer from Dean before Castiel stepped forward and held out his hand. Dean turned a deadly look in his direction before slowly raising his arms and allowing the angel to cuff his other hand. He didn't miss the look of surprise on Bobby's face when he saw the blackened flesh under the white-gold cuffs on his right wrist. Dean hissed as the pain instantly rocketed through his head and his power slammed into an immovable wall, and built.

It was like having an expansion tank inside his head and it was just waiting to explode. The warded cuffs burned into the newly healed skin of his left wrist and he bit his cheek to stop the hiss of pain.

Dean sat across the table from Bobby, the hunter's sharp blue eyes staring at him without blinking.

Finally he'd had enough, "Ever had a staring contest with a fish, Bobby? Fish don't have eyelids…you can't win. So if this is a contest, you lose. Cuz I don't have to breathe, and I sure as hell don't have to blink."

Bobby's lips thinned as both the irritation and his memories of the snarky boy he'd known. "I was just wondering what your daddy would 'a said about-" He gestured at what Dean had become and snorted with derision. "This."

The hybrid rolled his shoulders and then reached up and cracked his neck before looking back at man that had been like a second father to him. "My dad would've said 'protect Sammy'." Dean stood up and walked to the counter, grabbing a glass and the bottle of whiskey before pouring himself a hefty dose of the amber liquid. "I need to save my brother." He rasped past the alcohol-tainted throat.

Bobby wanted to argue. He wanted to rail that this thing could never have known what John would have wanted, but he couldn't. Because he was absolutely right. John Winchester man would've told Dean to protect Sam with his dying breath. So was it so surprising to him that that one order had remained after the pit carved out everything else that made Dean…Dean?

"So who has Sam?" He finally asked with a sign of resignation.

"My brothers have taken him to a holding room." Castiel answered without looking at either of them. He was staring out into the yard; the rainbows of light that played off a hundred broken windshields had caught his attention.

Dean snorted, the derision thick in the sound. "Could you be more cryptic?" He set the glass down hard enough that Bobby was surprised it didn't shatter. "How about we play twenty questions? Uh, is the room on earth? Is the room in North America? Can I drive to the room in a day? Does the room have room service? Any of this ringing a bell?" He considered going on, but frankly he so irritated that it was hard to control his emotions and that in turn was activating his restrained power. The pain in his body intensified and he closed his eyes briefly to control it.

The angel turned a stoic look in his direction before turning toward Bobby's study and walking over to the desk. He looked at the globe on the corner and picked it up before walking straight back to Dean. Castiel set it on the table and spun it before suddenly stopping the motion with one finger against a brightly colored state. California.

Dean raised his eyebrows at that, "The angel-batcave is in Pasadena? Seriously?!" The sarcasm and disgust dripped from his lips as he shook his head and swigged back more alcohol.

"Let me assure you that this place is well protected and if they have implemented their plan, Sam only has a little over a day before he is past my ability to heal." Castiel turned and stared at Dean, a blank expression on his stony face.

Dean had walked away from the whiskey bottle and was staring at the small globe. "Alright, guess I'm going to the land of sun, surf and shitty homeless angels." He didn't want anyone else involved and yet as his eyes flicked between Bobby and the angel, he was fairly certain he wasn't making this trek alone.

Especially since it didn't appear as though this angel was going to give him full control of his power anytime in the near future. "Bobby, I don't trust you right now and I know you damn sure don't trust me." His eyebrows cut down as he tried to pull his words together. "But Sammy needs help." That was as close as Dean was liable to get to an official invitation.

Bobby watched the flood of emotion wash over Dean's face. There was something different about him than any other demon that he'd ever met. The old hunter had never heard of anything anywhere near the potential power levels that Dean could have access to. But looking at the increasing damage the cuffs were doing to his wrists, Bobby knew that he wasn't all-powerful. Even something like Dean could be hurt, maybe even killed.

TBC…

Please leave a review if you're so inclined. It would be greatly appreciated.

Author's Note: The 'flash forwards' have a purpose; you'll just have to keep reading to find out what they mean for the Winchesters. Thanks for following along this far.