To be honest, Sam and Dean had completely forgotten. Their lives were just so full of shit, that since then, the brothers haven't even thought about their Leviathan counterparts. What with Metatron and the Mark and Amara, the Winchesters barely had time to think, much less think about the havoc the Leviathan Sam and Dean had wreaked.

Those memories were painfully jogged when they found themselves on the receiving end of three very dangerous, very loaded guns, held by three very dangerous, very angry men in the dead of winter. Their names were Short-ass, Tall-ass, and Just Plain Old Regular Ass. Or, at least that's what Dean called them in his head. They hadn't properly introduced themselves since the Ass Assembly had cornered Sam and Dean outside an abandoned barn right after the brothers had finished off the vampire's nest inside.

Caught completely unaware, Sam and Dean didn't even have time to draw their own bloodied weapons before being surrounded by the men. The men who up until now hadn't said a word.

"Why?"

Dean noticed that this was spoken by Tall-ass, who although wasn't as tall as Sam, had twice the amount of muscle on him. He was wearing a simple jacket, as if he wasn't bothered by the feet of snow around him, nor the fast falling snowflakes that had begun to collect on the gathered men.

"I'm sorry, what?" came Sam's voice, probably more higher in pitch then it should have been. Dean smirked and decided he'd tease his brother about it later, when they got out of the cold and out of range of those guns.

That was the wrong move, because immediately, two out of the three guns swiveled towards him.

"What are you smirking at?" Ah. It was Short-ass who spoke this time. Dean expected his voice to be a bit more annoying and squeaky. Instead, it was gruff and l-

"Answer the question." Oh wow, Just Plain Old Regular Ass sounded exactly like Dean had pictured; all rough and scratchy, with a hint of I'm-Better-Than-You mixed in.

He was nudged in the side by Sam, who's concerned expression finally spurred Dean into answering.

"What did you gentlemen want the answer to? The first or the second question? And does order matter?"

Tall-ass snarled and stepped closer, hands not shaking as the gun was pressed almost up against Dean's forehead.

"The first."

Dean shrugged. "Ok simple. Why what-" The question had barely left his mouth when a calloused hand slapped him roughly across the face. He heard Sam's sharp intake of breath and then a low growl of, "Stay where you are" from Short-ass, probably directed towards his brother.

Dean lifted his head up and looked into Tall-ass's rage filled face. Heaving a sigh, Dean went to ask the question again. "Why what?" This earned him yet another slap to the face, this one harder.

"You know what, you bastard." Tall-ass snarled as Dean brought his head back up for the second time. "Don't play dumb. You know what you did, and we just want to know why."

Dean and Sam exchanged glances, making sure the other also didn't have a clue on what was going on. This obviously did not bode well with the Ass Assembly. This time, it was both Winchesters who got not slaps, but punches in the face.

"Listen, fellas." Dean groaned and brought his hand to his mouth, which then came back bloody. He continued. "We have no idea what you're going on about, so we'd be much obliged if you either told us, or let us go. Not necessarily in that order." Just Plain Old Regular Ass's glare could have melted the skin off of Dean's bones.

"Alright. You wanna play stupid? Let's play", snarled Tall-ass. "What we want to know is what you boys were doing in 2011. Surely not shooting up any banks, by any chance? Or I doubt either of you so happened to be in Manitoc, Wisconsin in a cafe?"

Oh. The snow was falling faster now.

"Or are you gonna tell us that this was all a big misunderstanding. That you and your brother hadn't marched into that bank and killed everyone there, including my daughter? Or his son?" A gesture towards Short-ass. "Or in the cafe, it wasn't his nephew that was forced to videotape you psycho's on your killing spree?" Another gesture, this one towards Regular Ass.

It slowly dawned on the brothers what these men wanted. Revenge. On the Leviathan Winchesters. Too bad they were already dead, leaving the real Sam and Dean to pay the price.

Dean's thoughts were racing, trying to find a way to get them out of here. Safely. The only thing he could come up with at the moment was the need to stall for time. Yes. That's it. That would give him time to think.

"How did you find us?" Not the best question he could come up with, but it would have to do.

Tall-ass laughed, loudly and darkly. His eyes shone with malice.

"Oh boys, we've been tracking you for months now. I can't believe you didn't catch on. I guess you were dumber than you looker." Dean bristled, and Tall-ass continued, "Watching your every move. Trailing you as you went to bars and rented motel rooms and drunk beer as if you haven't destroyed dozens of families." The last part was said in a guttural growl.

Short-ass and Just Plain Old Regular Ass nodded along, their looks just as murderous as their partners'.

"What do you want?" This question came from Sam.

"Oh that's simple. We want you dead. But first, we want to make you suffer. Suffer for what you did to all of us." Short-ass spoke up now and stepped forward.

Just as Dean had expected, Sam started with his 'let's all be friends' speech, but the Ass Assembly wasn't having any of that.

"That means killing one of you now." Sam immediately stopped talking, and both boys froze.

"We've seen what you two can do together, so it's best to limit the possibilities of survival. The only question is, which one do we kill first?"

Dean started unconsciously inching towards his brother, who from a sideways glance was doing the same.

Regular Ass's turn to talk. "I say we kill the short one now. He has a mouth on him." Dean shot him a glare and stuck out his tongue. Regular Ass glowered back.

Tall-ass looked like he was about to agree, but then his face scrunched up like he was thinking. "Nah. I think we should kill the lanky one. His brother seems very protective of him." As an afterthought he added, "That way, we can watch as the tough one slowly breaks."

Short-ass looked as if he was deciding between the two. Then he smiled and shrugged.

"Ah what the hell. Lanky one it is."

Then the three men leveled their guns at Sam and fired.