"Finally," Dean shuddered as they left Cassie's home. "I can't believe we've just spent the whole afternoon on this. Could've already burnt the damn truck and moved on."

He'd clean forgotten about Cassie and this hunt. It had taken him quite a while to figure out who the hell had been calling and why some girl knew about their family business. Sam found it hilarious and was howling with laughter by the end of the conversation. Cassie sounded somewhat offended – she'd probably thought Dean would remember her for longer than that.

What had surprised Dean was that Sam had insisted on going to her place to talk to her.

"Still don't get why you wanted so badly to see my ex who even I barely remembered," muttered Dean.

"Why not?" Sam shrugged, smiling mischievously. "The me from your universe had seen her, so it would be unfair if I didn't. And I want to be on the same page as you, so I need to have the memories the me from your universe had."

"Hope you're satisfied." Frankly, Dean would rather not meet Cassie at all. It felt really weird to see her after everything he'd been through. Reviving such distant memories reminded him just of how much ahead of his time he was, how much shit he was supposed to prevent.

Dean vaguely remembered the awkwardness of their meeting back in his universe and that it'd hurt to see her. A huge contrast to the emptiness and mild annoyance at her attempts to flirt he felt now.

"She's got an attitude. I see why you liked her," Sam watched him expectantly.

"Uh-huh."

"Who ditched who?"

"She didn't believe I hunted ghosts. Thought I was trying to dump her by making this up."

"Really? She called you now, though. Apparently, she hadn't even deleted your number."

"Well, people are only atheistic until the plane starts to crash."

"I take it you don't want to fix your relationship?" Was Sam trying to play matchmaker all this time?

"God no. It wasn't even a relationship. No regrets. Any ideas how to burn the truck? I'm sure as hell don't want to race against it again."

Sam had grown comfortable with Dean being from the future. Dean felt more at ease, too. He carried around the notebooks Sam had given to him – one was for hunting, the other for everything Apocalypse-related. He scribbled down his memories whenever they came back to him. It was usually just a couple of words, just enough for him to form an association with a particular case but which wouldn't make sense to anyone else.

His brother had given up asking specific questions – though he was getting more and more annoyed that Dean wouldn't answer – and changed tactics, asking more general questions instead, probably hoping Dean would let something slip.
Sam was flipping through the copybook as they were driving – the one with hunts, Dean had forbidden him to touch the other.

"Who's Gordon? And why did you circle his name in red several times?"

"A hunter. And a son of a bitch."

"How specific. And Bela Talbot? Another ex?"

"Hell no," Dean paused, doing some mental math. "But speaking of her, do you think a fifteen-year-old girl could kill parents to inherit their fortune?"

"That's gross," Sam grimaced. "But she wouldn't be able to use the money until she's eighteen anyway. Why – did she –"

"Yeah, she already did. But we're not going to meet her any time soon," Dean pulled over. "I think the truck is somewhere here."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Dean? Dean, wake up," Sam was shaking his shoulder. "How could you forget to warn me about this one?"

"What the hell?" Dean grunted, wincing at the bright light.

"I've just seen another vision. A man suffocates in the garage. Rings a bell?" Sam was pacing around the room, already packing the duffel.

Dean groaned, getting up reluctantly and trying to pull his thoughts together. "Damn it. I didn't think that would happen so soon."

"Do you remember what are we dealing with?"

Oh, it's just another psychic kid from Azazel's army.

"Sam? We won't make it in time. We arrived like two hours after his death. And it took us about two hours to get there. So, I guess you've just seen a live stream," he attempted a joking tone.

"We gotta try anyway. Maybe this time it'll be different. I won't be able to sleep anyway today."

"Yeah, me neither," agreed Dean grimly.

He had no idea what to do with this case. He had been thinking about it before, but couldn't come up with anything that didn't involve killing the kid. For once, he wished he was hunting with the soulless version of his brother – he wouldn't have blinked at the suggestion to kill this guy.

"So, what are we dealing with?" asked Sam again when Dean started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

Dean considered the question for a moment. He didn't want to tell Sam that his and the kid's powers were of the same origin, but he couldn't completely leave out telekinesis either.

"It's a human. A son of the man who you've just seen. He has telekinetic powers and he has decided to take revenge on his family for being abused."

"And how did we tackle this?" Sam asked apprehensively, probably guessing from the dark look on Dean's face that they hadn't been particularly successful.

"The kid ended up blowing his head off with my gun, that's how. It was after he'd killed his uncle, attempted to stick a knife in his mother's eye socket and almost shot me," he hoped that sounded horrible enough to make Sam less sympathetic with the kid.

Sam whistled. "What do you think we should do now?"

Dean threw him a glum look and remained silent for some time.

"I doubt you'll like my plan," he finally answered, watching the realization dawn on his brother.

"What – wait – you can't be serious," Sam protested. "We can't just kill him. There must be another way."

"Sam, he has already killed with his powers. And there's no guarantee that in the future he won't kill the next person who crosses him."

"We need to talk to him, then. We'll explain that killing his family isn't a solution."

"Yeah, last time you told him he shot himself," sneered Dean. He really wanted Max out of the picture. He would do his damnedest to prevent that psychic kids survival show, but if he failed – well, having a mentally unstable guy with such power as a rival didn't bode well for Sam.

"Look, if the kid had some harmless ability like your visions or I don't know – super hearing or x-ray vision – I would agree with you. But it's telekinesis, Sam. Fucking telekinesis. You can't do anything against his will and yet he can snap your neck just with his mind power."

Sam chewed his bottom lip, thinking. Apparently, the danger of the situation started to sink in, though Dean doubted his brother would give up easily.

"We won't force him to do anything, then. We'll try to persuade him to seek help. He can go to a therapist or something."

Dean sighed heavily. "Sam, that's not gonna work."

"We can't just ice him. He's a human, Dean. We'll prevent these murders and try to talk to him."

Dean shook his head in exasperation. "You do realize you wouldn't be able even to defend yourself? It's like fighting against a demon except that neither holy water nor devil traps will work, so actually it's even harder."

"For the last time, Dean. We aren't killing him."

"Uh-huh. Tell me when you see the window chopping off his uncle's head," Dean gave him a dirty look.

Sam cringed but didn't answer.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So, how did the appointment go, Dr. Frehley? Found a way to talk the kid out of massacring his family?"

Sam's face was dark with anger.

"You thought I wouldn't find out," he accused, slamming the door behind himself.

"Find out about what?" Dean stiffened, already knowing the answer. His heart leaped into his throat. Sam wouldn't back down this time. He'd have to tell everything.

"Max. His mother died in a fire when he was six months old. And guess what? She was pinned to the ceiling."

Dean tried to fake a surprise.

"Don't even try to pretend we didn't know about that in your universe," fumed Sam.

"Fine. We did. So? Did you manage to convince Max that wasting his relatives is a bad idea or what?"

"Don't change the topic, Dean."

"Sam, we really don't have much time before the kid goes after his uncle."

"You know what? I've been thinking that maybe I should have gone to California. Maybe dad would give more answers than you," he said bitterly.

"Sam, man…"

"Our mom died in exactly the same way. And we both have abilities. And we're not the only ones. There're more kids like us, right? You mentioned it when you talked about my death."

Dean nodded slowly, covering his face with his hands.

"Dean, you gotta tell me what's going on. These visions – man, it's not normal, they scare the hell out of me. And people aren't supposed to have telekinetic powers. And the fact you refuse to talk about it – it freaks me out even more," Sam paused, waiting for an answer.

"Something really horrible must have happened four years from now. I need to know what. You said yourself we need to act together to fix it," he pressed on when Dean didn't respond.

"I know what's going on," Dean said dumbly. He had no idea how to start a conversation like this. He had talked about the Apocalypse with Lisa, but that time he had left out most of the details, giving just a general picture.

"I don't even know where to start, man. It'll sound insane anyway," he admitted, laughing mirthlessly.

"Why did you come back in time? Why do I have visions? Why are there other kids like me?"

"Fine," Dean cleared his throat. "I came back here because I didn't like the price we'd have to pay to prevent the Apocalypse," he paused, chuckling at Sam's face expression. "And I wish the word 'Apocalypse' was a figure of speech, but it's not."

"The Apocalypse. Like, the Biblical one?" Dean was thankful Sam chose not to question his sanity again.

"Yeah, with Four Horsemen and shit. Beating Horsemen wasn't that difficult actually – you just cut off their fingers with rings and they lose their powers," he explained, making a point of sounding like they were discussing the weather. If he had to talk about all this crap again, he might as well have some fun.

"And these Horsemen are War, Hunger, Pestilence and… Death. Holy shit, Death?"

"Yep. Death was the easiest one, in fact. He gave me his ring voluntarily – he didn't like being Lucifer's bitch. He likes fast food, by the way – I mean, Death likes it. Lucifer prefers demon blood."

"Lucifer? Dean, I swear if it's some kind of joke – "

"Yeah, Lucifer the Satan. He started the Apocalypse after you had freed him from the Cage. Well, it wasn't your intention, but it happened so that you freed him. Long story. Don't beat yourself up for that – it was you who threw him back in the Cage and stopped the whole thing, so you kinda made it up for everything."

Sam looked dumbfounded.

"Um. Dean? Maybe you can start from the beginning? What you say doesn't make sense to me now, to put it mildly."

"Sure. No problem," Dean let out a shaky laugh. "Our mom was a hunter, Azazel killed her parents and our dad, so she made a deal to bring him back in return for letting Azazel in the house ten years later. We're named after our grandparents, by the way. Deanna and Samuel Campbell."

Sam opened and closed several times, thoroughly confused. Dean wondered what shocked him more – the looming Apocalypse or the fact that their mom was a hunter?

"Wait. I'm taking notes and color-coding. You could at least try to tell all this in chronological order. Right now, it sounds like you're delirious."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Are you all right?" Dean asked after he had told about everything – Hell, Heaven, angels, addiction to demon blood, Ruby, Lucifer. He couldn't bring himself to enlighten Sam that they were vessels, so in his story, Sam had got pulled into the Cage after pushing Lucifer there.

"At least it all makes sense now," Sam answered, looking at the notes as if they were we the instructions on how to make an atomic bomb. "Not knowing was worse. You told me we visited Heaven. How did we get there at all?

"Other hunters shot us for starting the Apocalypse."

"They killed us? And how come we were alive later?"

"Um. Well. I guess angels brought us back."

"Why?"

"To fight the Apocalypse."

"Oh, yeah, because two humans were such an asset to angels with their powers? The truth, Dean."

"Fine," Dean gave up, "We're vessels. Lucifer's and archangel Michael's."

"I take it I'm the vessel of Satan," Sam concluded matter-of-factly.

"Yeah. Well, Michael's a dick, too, if it makes you feel any better."

Sam let out a nervous laugh.

"So, how did I beat Lucifer if I'm his vessel?"

"You got control over your body and jumped into the Cage with Lucifer trapped inside you. You dragged Michael into the Cage, too."

Sam frowned. "But Michael – you're his vessel?"

"Yeah. But I didn't say yes, so he got Adam. They just needed someone with Winchester's blood."

"I threw Lucifer in the Cage," repeated Sam slowly as if he couldn't believe in it.

"Yeah. You did it when nobody thought it was possible. I'm proud of you." It still hurt Dean that he hadn't had a chance to tell this to his brother back there.

"What did you do after everything was over?"

"I went to Lisa. I had nowhere else to go. You were dead, and your dying wish was that I have a normal life, so I went there and tried to settle down. I tried to enjoy this apple-pie life, you know, golf, barbeques, occasional beers with neighbors. But the pain never went away," Dean lowered his eyes, studying the floor. "Not a single day went by that I didn't remember something from the past and realized again that you were dead – even worse, you were in Hell - and I would never see or talk to you again."

He sighed heavily, "I don't know how Lisa put up with this."

"I don't know how you lived through all this, man. The world seems so normal now. I can't imagine how – " Sam trailed off, shaking his head. "Do you have a plan?"

"The general idea is to kill Lilith before she breaks the seals so that Lucifer stays in the Cage forever. I don't see what we can do about the Apocalypse right now, though. The Gates are closed. Lilith is in Hell. The seals are safe. Nothing is going on."

Sam furrowed his brow, looking doubtful. "Hmph. I'll need time to digest this."

"Sure. But getting back to our time - Max's still going to massacre his family."

"I talked to him, Dean. Give the kid a chance."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Wait! Wait. Mr. Miller! You can't go in there."

They barely made it in time, but since Roger didn't know them as priests, he would probably stop to talk to them.

"What the hell? Who are you?"

"Mr. Miller, I'm afraid you can't go in. We're from the National Gas Emergency Service," Sam flashed his fake ID. "There's a gas leak in one of the apartments."

"A gas leak?" he raised eyebrows. "Why don't I see the evacuation going on?"

"It's about to start, we're just…"

"Waiting for our colleagues, they're on their way," Dean waved towards the road.

"Mr. Miller, it'll probably take long to make sure the area is safe, you might need to rent a motel room for a day."

Until we persuade your nephew not to kill you.

"I think I'll wait here, thanks," Roger snapped, putting his groceries on the ground and leaning back on the hood of his car.

The next thing they knew, the car hit the building wall with a nasty sound of crushing bones. It happened so fast that Mr. Miller didn't even let out a scream.

"What the fuck?" Sam gasped, watching a puddle of blood around the car growing. "The engine wasn't even running."
"We're getting out of here. Now," Dean nudged him, looking around nervously. Max must be somewhere nearby, probably watching them. Dean felt exposed as if they were at gunpoint. He hoped Max wouldn't decide to get rid of the witnesses for good measure.

"So, you still want to talk to the kid again? To explain to him that he needs a shrink?" Dean asked as they entered their motel room.

"I tried in your universe, didn't I?" Sam said wearily.

"Yeah, and a bullet missed my head by two inches only because you somehow managed to move a closet with the power of your mind. You want to bet on that again?"

"Not really," Sam admitted. "I should've listened to you earlier. Roger would be alive."

Sam looked so guilty that Dean bit back 'I-told-you-so'. "You meant well," he said instead, giving a half shrug.

"Yeah, and look what came out of that."

Dean remembered making the same mistakes and he couldn't really blame his brother for trying to do the right thing.

"There were two times in my life when I refused to kill one person to save others. I tried to find a way to save everybody. It didn't end up well. But I know I did what I thought was right at the time. Sometimes it's not the body count that matters."

Dean pocketed the car keys and headed outside.

"I'll take care of Max. You go through your notes again. Prepare questions, ask everything you want to know. No more secrets, I swear."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sam was glued to his laptop and notebooks for the next few days, constantly making notes and drawing schemes. Occasionally he would ask questions that almost always perplexed Dean.

Does the term "righteous man" refer specifically to you or it's just a concept?

Why were there so many psychic kids if they ended up killing each other and I was the only vessel?

Why did Azazel root for me?

How long do you think it takes angels to find a soul in Hell?

Who in Heaven was against the Apocalypse?

What was Lilith doing before you went to Hell?

Why did that crossroad demon give you a year?

Why did Azazel wait a year before opening the Gates of Hell?

Dean hadn't given much thought to that before; he'd been too busy trying not to get killed. When he thought about the future, he tried to figure out how to kill Azazel and Lilith. So far, he couldn't come up with anything. He didn't want to wait till they face Azazel at the cemetery – last time he managed to kill him by sheer luck and it was too long to wait anyway. But what other chance did they have? Lilith was in Hell, so to kill her they needed first somehow set her free, and Dean didn't like their prospects.

"Are you sure it's important? I mean, we just need to kill Lilith and that's it, the Apocalypse prevented."

"Dean, this Apocalypse – it's just politics in essence," Sam answered with a maniac glint in his eyes. "It all comes down to politics. The decisions are already being made. Just give me more time to analyze all this. We need a strategy."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Sam, I swear I don't remember what's going on here," repeated Dean, taking a swig of beer. "Let's go back to the motel and see if something happens tomorrow."

"I'll wait for you at the parking lot. I need some fresh air."

Sam left, staring at his notes as he walked. Sometimes Dean got the impression that for Sam preventing the Apocalypse was like an especially interesting assignment.

Dean watched the bubbles going up in his beer. He couldn't remember anything, didn't even get the déjà vu vibes as he talked to the kid about Godzilla movies. Maybe they hadn't talked to the kid last time? But he was the only witness. And the area was marked in Dad's journal, so they must have investigated this case.

He was heading to the restroom when the memories came flooding back.

"Your county has its fair share of missing persons. Any of them come back?"

"My brother disappeared three years ago. A lot like Sam. We searched for him, but—nothing."

Dean stormed out of the bar, reaching for the gun and praying he wasn't too late. He saw two men dragging Sam's unconscious body to their truck. He took aim. He couldn't risk shooting Sam, so he waited till they closed the truck doors. The angle wasn't perfect, but Dean was sure he wouldn't miss. Not with his experience. He pulled the trigger twice and two men dropped dead on the ground. Somebody inside the bar screamed.

He carefully laid Sam on the backseat and drove out of the parking lot. They must get out of the town and probably change the plates. At least the street camera wasn't directed at the bar entrance, so it didn't capture him shooting. They might already have Henriksen on their asses, and Dean didn't want to give him one more reason to track them.

"Dean?" Sam grunted, sitting up. "What the hell happened?"

"I thought you could do without this particular experience this time. These bastards tried to kidnap you. They are responsible for other abductions, too. Sick puppies killed people for fun."

"Did you kill them?"

"We killed them in my universe, too, so I don't think that changes much. How come they jumped you?" He threw Sam a disapproving look through the rear mirror.

"I was thinking about the future. So, are we done with this hunt?

"Yeah. I wasted two of them, I think there're two more left in their house. I've tipped off the cops, they'll take care of them. What were you thinking about anyway?"

"It's just – I don't think we have much time, Dean."

"Time for what?"

"To prevent the Apocalypse. The first seal. It's when the Apocalypse really starts, not when Lucifer rises. I mean, they can't do anything unless the first seal is broken. And to break it, they need a righteous soul in Hell. Either yours or Dad's. So we have either several months or – "

"- or two years," Dean finished, suddenly feeling nauseous.

"One year, Dean. It's when you sold your soul. And to get a soul, they need either you or Dad to make a deal. So, when time comes, they'll start trying to make you make the deal by killing one of us."

Fuck.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I remember these murders. It's Meg. Look, we didn't prevent anything there in my universe, just almost got ourselves killed. So maybe there's no point in going to Chicago at all?"

"Yeah, but she stopped killing people only because we showed up. If we don't, she'll continue."

Dean considered how this could affect the future – the one he was building now.

"You said she blackmailed Dad, so he went to meet her to give her a fake colt and ended up being possessed and then all that crap happened and he made a deal," Sam flipped through his notes. "So, if we exorcise her now, none of this will happen, right?"

"None of this – yeah. But some other shit will happen. Unpredictable shit, Sam." Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose. "We can deal with her, but on our own. We're definitely not dragging Dad into this."

"Are you going to tell Dad you're from the future?

"No. I think we'll manage by ourselves."

"But we're preventing his death, aren't we?"

"I dread to think what kind of ripple effect that would cause," he admitted.

Sam looked at him in disbelief. "Are you going to let him die because of the ripple effect? The whole point of your time travel is to fix everything."

"I'm not saying I'll let him die. I'm just saying it can turn all my knowledge into nothing. And you know Dad. What do you think his reaction would be once he found out you're Satan's meatsuit?"

Sam's face darkened.

"You know what his last words were? That I had to kill you if I fail to save you. And he didn't even know the whole truth at that point."

"Well, we can explain to him it's no use killing me because I'll be brought back anyway?" Sam smiled weakly.

"We're not telling him anything. And keep your mouth shut about the visions. No one must know. No one."

Thank you for your support, I read all your comments but it weirds me out that the only way to answer is via PM, it kinda feels like an invasion of privacy to me? so I just read them quietly, but they make me very happy :)

So let me know what you think and feel free to speculate about what will happen next :)