La Machine à Rattraper le Temps - Indochine

(The Time Catching Machine)

Since Meg had been there, they decided she would take Jo and Baby back to Bobby's. They didn't know how, when or if they would come back. So Dean, extremely reluctantly, gave his Baby's keys to the she-demon; not before Sam asked him whether he'd rather let Meg drive his car to a safe place or let it on a dingy Motel parking lot for God knows how long.

Put like that, the answer was quite easy.

He carried Jo to the backseat of the car himself while Sam and Cass would pack-up their things. Well, Sam would pack-up and Cass stash it all in the trunk. Then they had to look away as Meg gave her angel a searing kiss as good bye. They waited until the car's tail disappeared before they go too.

A gut wrenching handful of seconds later, they were somewhere else back in the past. And Castiel fainted into Sam's arms right away.

Dean took a look around them, letting his brother haul the angels limp body. Actually, their surroundings hadn't changed much; the Motel was still the same, albeit newer and most certainly cleaner. The cars in the parking lot were more like to his taste. It was snowy and the street was decorated with Christmas stuff.

_ So, any idea of when we are?" Sam asked once Castiel was safely tucked in bed.

_ Around December, whatever the year." Dean walked to the old TV and turned it on, they must be able to find a news channel with the date on. "How's Cass?

_ Fried. Alive. That's about all I can tell. I'm not expert in angel health care.

_ Figures..." Dean huffed. Given the archaic ads, weird hair and cheap SFX he was seeing, they must be in about the right time frame.

He seated himself at the foot of Castiel's bed. Sam went to the other, nervously smoothing his jeans, his hands looking for something to do. Dean was still flipping through the channels when a movie made him stop.

_ Crap...

_ What?" Sam sounded startled, as if his mind had already wandered far away.

_ That's 'Back To The Future'.

_ And?

Dean rolled his eyes, annoyed at his brother's oblivion.

_ It's a 1980's film. Sammy : I'm already born.

Dean could have throttled his brother; he shouldn't look so unbothered by that. They were straddled in a past that wasn't far enough with a ride utterly toasted. They had lost. And Sam dared to look not even unbothered but almost relieved.

_ I think we should take a ride and go to Lawrence, we'll see when we get there. But what do we do with Cass? I'm not even sure it would be safe to move him. It certainly wouldn't to let him alone.

Dean looked behind him. The angel's dark hair was barely poking from under the covers, his trench coat hanging from the head board. How did Sam took the time to undress him...

_ We're not in a hurry of anything anyway, maybe we can take a day and see if Cass will wake up...

Sam trailed under Dean's stare.

_ And how, pray tell, do you suggest we pay for the room or food?" He couldn't help but bite back.

Without answering, Sam drew up his banknotes clip and started to sort through his money.

_ I've got twenty bucks emitted before the 80's. Recon it would be interesting hustling pool in the 80's.

Dean made a vague gesture, right know, he was just too devastated by their busted suicide mission to care right now. They should have come to a time none of them would be born. Especially not him. Now, their plan to threaten their existence to get Michael to use Dad as a vessel so they could talk to him was greatly compromised.

Dean had been the one to break the first seal, him more than anyone should not live. And given Sam reaction, he will try to keep baby Dean safe. And that was not acceptable by his book. Even if it was even more disturbing to imagine killing a mini-me than to pretend-kill his parents to get a douche angel to show up.

Dean took a deep breath and a hand to his face.

The TV was still on; the news had started on the channel they finally let on. It was the 20th of December 1982. So Dean was already born, and mom was pregnant with Sammy. At least Azazel hasn't yet messed up with his baby brother's soul.

They had no other option than wipe out the Winchesters. And hope it was too early to prevent Michael from simply resurrecting Dean.

Then it hit him. This was a suicide mission. They would never come back. He would never see Jo again. She wasn't even born yet. They will never be lovers. She wouldn't miss him; she wouldn't know he ever existed, in some alternate future where they were happy together, despite everything else.

Sam was still there, silent and unmoving, his stare fixed on the moving pictures on the telly. Dean would never see Jo again. But, maybe Sam could get a second chance. Or... get a chance to say good bye at least. Even if the Gabriel from the 80's was different from the one they lost.

So, Dean prayed.

Loki, in a voluptuous brunette outfit with a long, vaporous floral dress, was busy getting a murderer who managed to escape human justice nuts by appearing around, looking like his victim. She would drag him to the ground, turn him into some sniveling mess before maybe have the mercy to let him die. Maybe.

She was waiting for her victim to come out of the bar he was currently hooking up with some blonde, seated in the backseat of his car. He even had the gall to keep the vehicle he murdered his victim in. The bastard.

She could see her target about to go out when it started. It was like something deep inside her had started to howler in agony, loss and sorrow. There was no reason for it. It came from within, but she was certain it wasn't from her.

She tried to ignore it, focus on her task at hand. To no avail. It was too spooky.

No surprise was a good surprise when you were on the run. And a feeling so old it had become foreign started to blossom into her guts: dread. It worsened when she started to feel a prayer addressed to her.

Not just her as Loki, but also as the Trickster, and every one of her other aliases.

Dread became blood curling terror and anger upon hearing the last prayer she was getting from the same soul. Addressed to the Archangel Gabriel.

Gabriel, Loki, Trickster, whoever you're going by in the 80's, we need you. Really need you. We got a fried bros' of yours who could use some expert to make sure he'll get through.

Followed by a few flashes of a location, a Motel, both old and recent, in a city haunted by technologies that didn't exist. It was getting weirder and weirder. And she really didn't want to get involved in anything bizarre she didn't come up with in the first place.

It wouldn't stop though. If anything, the screams were getting louder and more desperate by the minute. And the soul praying for all of her may not be the reason for that traumatized howler inside her; she wasn't naive enough to think the two weirds weren't connected.

First things first, she got out of the car to get a nice seat by a shore, and pondered her options. She could go there and see whoever dared not only know who she was but to call. It was very likely a trap. She could send someone to check onto the Motel, evaluate the threat.

She also could wait until the praying soul get bored, but it was unlikely that the other weirdness would go away that easily.

Moreover, it was nerve fraying, and she wouldn't stand it for too long.

Well... all in all, there was really one option really standing, even if she didn't like it.

She took off, direction a townhole in the Northern States.

When she arrived, a few miles away from the exact location, she was so focused on trying to find out the angels she was sure to be waiting for her, she didn't realize right away.

The silence was almost deafening for a few minutes, until the formerly wailing thing inside her head started to purr in contentment. It was no less disconcerting, but her nerves were grateful.

There was next to no trace of angelic power in the city. Just a very faint glow coming from her destination. That was to be expected given the specifications of the prayer.

She made a short flight to the Motel's parking lot. The prayers has stopped by now. She wasn't sure if it was a direct consequence of her arrival like the warm and fuzzy purring, or if one triggered the other.

Carefully, she peered into the room where the grace was. One angel, in a vessel, so badly out of shape she didn't recognized from which angel it was. Two humans. Both had souls tainted by Hell. One of them clearly had been there and somehow came back. It probably had to do with the angel being his guardian. The other, was half demoniac. It was disgusting, like putrid flesh. It made her want to throw up, especially when she realized the purring came from him.

She scooted closer; her sibling's mind was shut down, he couldn't sense her. But there was no knowing how deep the Hell taint on the humans' souls ran. What they could do, and how the fuck did they learn about her?

A peek at the window. The humans and her sibling's vessel were all male, and tall.

_ Castiel..." she whispered.

It couldn't be! Her mind reeled. If the angel was Cassie, the two humans would be unmistakably her Big brothers vessels: Samuel and Dean Winchester. Except that it wasn't time.

Then she snorted to herself. Of course, that made sense: Castiel's grace fried, the weird double visions of the Motel and its surrounding. The pair of menace had come back in time. And they were speaking: the tallest, the one invading her mind, sounded a bit angry.

_ You should have never done that Dean. You know how he is. You'll only spook him. And I so do not want to be at the wrong end of a chain sewer, again. He's not the same Dean... He's not... him; not yet.

No, scratch that, he sounded sad. Incredibly, hopelessly sad. His long arms flaying around as he was pacing agitatedly around the room. The guy somehow handled himself like he didn't know what to do with his super-sized body. She liked the hair though.

_ Someone need to get a look at Cass. And... I don't know, maybe send him back in our time.

_Send him back to what Dean? A world where... You know how bad it would be if we not only can't pull that one out but also wouldn't be there to clean up the mess.

The bulk blond, Dean apparently, shrugged, dejected. This one was seated at the foot of the bed Castiel was occupying. His black tee-shirt was taut over his shoulders. Pretty handsome, when you liked pouty ken-dolls.

_ He's not coming anyway.

Samuel raised his eyebrows and opened his hands in a gesture Loki wasn't sure she could translate.

_ Dude, he's already there. At least not far.

Loki froze. A cold shiver went down her spine.

Dean blinked in surprise, looking up to his brother. Then uselessly swept his gaze around. As if she was suddenly standing in the middle of them.

_ What, your Gabe radar kicked in?

Gabe radar? She wasn't sure which word creeped her out the most. That guy was a danger, a terrible threat. Before she knew it, she had her sword in hand, ready to strike.

_ Looks like it." Samuel Winchester answered softly. It was uncanny how the abomination managed to look like a lost puppy that had been kicked too many times.

And apparently it was more than enough to fool his brother; since the man got up to pat his shoulder.

_ It's ok Sammy we'll !

Whatever reassurance he had been trying to say had been cut off by one ginormous hand. In a blink of an eye, Samuel's expression had shifted into some hard wild stare.

_ Dude! I just said he's here! So he hears. Don't... Just, mind what you say. Given what he is, what he knows gets unmovable. We don't want that.

_ And the fact that you know this much about him? It's not gonna... I don't know...

_ There could have been many way for me to learn about archangels." The younger retorted. Well, she wasn't dumb thank-you. It implied he got this from her somehow. Or... him. Apparently they would meet her in a male suit.

Didn't matter. If they knew her, or him, they should know better than to try come back in time to clean whatever mess they were in!

She put on her shorter mini skirt and unbuttoned the top of her shirt. The blond guy looked like the kind to lose the little brain they had through the ears at the mere sight of breasts.

...

That didn't sound like Michael. Maybe his supposed perfect vessel wasn't that much like him.

Popping a huge pizza, she went to knock at the door.