Ch 42
"Haven't you heard Castiel? God is dead," Raphael growled from behind the wall of flames. Dean and Castiel had managed to summon and trap the Archangel in a ring of Holy Oil fueled fire. Unlike Gabriel's air of flamboyant egotism, Raphael radiated power and malice. The air crackled with his power, Dean felt the little hairs on his arms and neck standing at attention, the metal fillings in his back teeth tingled.
Castiel stood next to him, glaring through the flames at the Archangel, "I don't believe that. God brought me back."
Raphael shook his head, "No brother. I don't think so. What use would our father have with a disgraced Seraphim?" He smiled darkly. "I believe Lucifer himself resurrected you. Think about it, he needs all the rebellious angels he can find." The wind roared through the broken windows of the abandoned house lashing the angel and the hunter in cold rain. The Holy fire flickered but held the Archangel captive.
Castiel's eyes narrowed. "No. Let's go." He said to Dean turning away from his trapped brother.
"Castiel, I'm warning you: do not leave me here." Raphael threatened. "I will find you."
Castiel looked back over his shoulder, "Maybe someday. But today you're my little bitch."
Dean smiled; he wasn't exactly positive that his and Rivers apparent influence on Cas was a good thing. "What he said," he said smirking at Raphael's seething face. They left Raphael trapped in the ring of holy fire in the abandoned house 30 miles from the nearest town. It would take him several days to summon assistance to break free.
"Look, I know what it's like to go looking for your dad when he doesn't want to be found. I knew I'd find my dad, I knew he wasn't dead even when me and Sam found evidence to the contrary." They were back in the Impala, barreling down a dark highway putting as much distance as possible between themselves and Raphael. "Do you feel like God is dead?"
Castiel shook his head, "No. I have to have faith I will find him."
"Well, then go find him. Or….we could cut out the middle man. And you can help me find a way to gank Lucifer," Dean told him. He glanced sideways across the seat at his friend. He'd just said aloud the impossible plan that had been brewing in the back of his mind for weeks.
"You want to try and kill Lucifer?" Castiel clarified.
"I'm a hunter, Cas. I kill monsters. Lucifer's the biggest monster around right now, so yeah I want to kill him." Castiel nodded and disappeared. Dean looked at the empty seat for several long seconds before he pulled his phone out and called River. She didn't answer of course, probably didn't want to give him the chance to track her phone again. He tossed the phone on the empty seat next to him. His stomach rumbled and he realized he hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours, barbecue sounded good. Kansas City barbecue to be specific.
A few hundred miles away Sam was having a bad night. He had left Bobby's to clear his head and get away from hunting for a while. Away from demons and demon blood, away from his overbearing fate as Lucifers vessel. He'd found a quiet road side sports bar in a refreshingly demon free town that needed a busboy. The work was easy. Mind numbingly easy. Wipe the tables, pick up the dirty dishes, smile politely at drunk guests. If the bar tender called off he filled in. Wash, rinse, repeat. It was enough to distract him from the real problems he still had to face. Until the night three hunters came in for a pregame round of drinks. Sam hadn't recognized them at first but the leader, Verne, recognized him almost immediately. "Sam? Sam Winchester is that you?" the shorter blonde man had called across the bar. "It's Verne. I worked with your daddy on a few cases. Must been what? Ten years ago. Sorry to hear about your old man. He was a tough son of a bitch."
Sam gave him a tight smile, "Yeah, yeah he was. What are you all doin' in town?" The hunters had tracked a demon across state lines. It was apparently holed up in a barn a few miles from the bar.
"You wanna join us? For old times sake?" Verne asked.
Sam shook his head, "I uh… I'm not hunting anymore." The hunters gave him a surprised look look didn't push him before squaring their tab and leaving the bar.
Two of the hunters returned to the bar just as Sam was closing up for the night. Apparently the demon had set a trap for them. One demon turned into a group of ten and the hunters had lost one of their own in the melee. The two remaining hunters had escaped but not before the demons had told them a very unexpected story. Apparently, Sam Winchester himself had started the apocalypse and let the Devil free. Hunters and anyone else with a lick of sense had immediately recognized the beginning of the End. The hunters attacked Sam, trying to force him to take demon blood so that he would be strong enough to destroy the demons that had killed their friend. In the end Sam was able to resist the blood and beat the hunters to a pulp before running away. As he drove away from the bar he realized this wasn't something he could run from. Lucifer was trying to smoke him out. Turning other hunters against him, against his brother and anyone else that allied with him.
River made it to South Carolina and was on the trail of a werewolf. It was the last night of the moons cycle and if she couldn't kill the wolf tonight…well she didn't really feel like staying in South Carolina for another month. There had been police reports from three separate farms of mutilated animals; hearts ripped out and ostensibly eaten by an unknown predator. Then the first human victim had been discovered early yesterday, a worker on one of the farms found in the stable. His chest a bloody hole and heart missing.
The hunter downed the last of her energy drink, grabbed her silver bullet loaded pistol and got out her car. She crept around the outer perimeter of the farm following the tracks she'd found in the soft earth. A twig crunched to her left and she ducked behind a tree. Muffled voices broke through the chirping crickets, an owl was startled from its nest and set off through the tree tops with a loud screech. A shadowed group of three or four individuals shuffled through the underbrush. They were making enough noise to alert the neighbors at the next farm.
Suddenly a dark lopping figure streaked past River and headed straight for the noisy, clueless group. She screamed, "Get down!" The figures spun around and in the moonlight River saw there was actually five people and they were all armed to the teeth. Four of the men complied and hit the dirt, the fifth stood stupidly for a fraction of a second too long trying to get his jammed gun to fire. The werewolf, a scruffy, dirty woman raced towards him. River skidded to a halt took a quick breath to steady her arm, aimed and fired. The monster slammed into the man and he started screaming and writhing on the ground. "God damn it!" River yelled picking up her speed again. The men on the ground scrambled towards their friend who was still screaming. Laughter broke out amongst the group and River stopped warily several feet from them.
The man on the ground stopped screaming and flung the dead woman off of himself, "It's not funny you assholes." He wiped werewolf blood off his face and jacket and saw River backing slowly away trying not to attract any more attention to herself. "Hey there missy! Where do you think your off to?"
She stopped her retreat and smiled tightly at the group of men, "Wow, that lady was crazy. Must've had rabies or something." The group broke out in laughter again.
"Yeah rabies. Come on now missy we all know a Hunter when we see one same as you." Another of the men called.
"Fuck," River thought quickly to herself. She generally did not like working with hunters she did not know or that didn't come with a recommendation from Bobby or Rufus. "Yeah, ya got me. Sorry if I took your kill. I didn't know there were other Hunters in the area."
"Name's Mike, this is my brother Joey who's ass you just saved. Thats Steve, Ryan, and Lance. What's your name?" The men each gave her a quick nod.
"Sarah," she replied with the first name that popped in her head.
"Well Sarah, how about we buy you a beer?"
—-
"Cas I need to sleep man, I just drove eighteen hours straight," Dean grumbled into his cellphone. The Angel had had the misfortune to call Dean less than ten minutes after he had dodged a greasy, cheap suited street corner preacher on his way into the dirty hostel. He'd left the preacher to yell at the closed door about eternal hellfire. Now Dean was in no mood for anything besides collapsing on his bed and falling into exhausted unconsciousness.
"Dean this important. I've done as you asked. I have been searching for a way to kill Lucifer and I have heard whispers among certain demons that The Colt is possibly being held by one of their own." Castiel told him.
Dean sighed tiredly, closing the moth eaten curtains against the glare of the neon light outside. "The Colt? Cas that doesn't make any damn sense. Why would demons keep a gun laying around that could kill demons? If they got their paws on The Colt I guarantee the first thing they did was melt it down."
A truck horn blared on Castiel's end of the line and Dean shook his head smiling at the ridiculous notion of talking with a messenger of God on a cheap gas station cell phone. "Dean, I hear differently. And if you are still set on trying to kill Lucifer this may be our best option."
"Ok, ok. Where do start?" Dean asked.
"Where are you?" Castiel asked.
Dean fumbled for the plastic key ring attached to his room key, "Century Motel Kansas City Room 113."
Cas nodded on his end, "I will be there immediately."
"Whoa whoa. No you won't pal. I just told you I've been driving non-stop. I am exhausted. I need at least four hours of sleep every couple of days ok? I'll see you in the morning." He hung up the phone not waiting for Castiel's response. He collapsed on to the bed with a loud groan and fell asleep almost instantly. He'd barely hit REM sleep when his phone started vibrating on the nightstand. He cursed in annoyance and grabbed for the phone in the dark, "God Damn it Cas. I told you I need to sleep!"
"Dean, it's me, " Sam said quietly. He'd been driving for hours, putting miles between himself and the Hunters that had turned on him.
"Hey Sammy. How goes it?" Dean asked sitting up and stretching his stiff neck. He could hear the soft rumble of an engine in the background and knew his brother was driving somewhere. He padded over to the small dirty fridge in the corner of room and grabbed a beer.
Sam took a deep breath, "Not good. I uh…I just beat the shit out a bunch of hunters." Dean snorted on his beer. "They were going after some demons and I guess the demons just happened to let it slip I started the Apocalypse."
"Well it was only a matter of time before it got out," Dean sighed heavily.
"Dean, He's coming after me; I can feel it. He's making sure I have nowhere to hide."
"Lucifer can't find you; not with Cas's protection. He's just sending out feelers trying to rout you out."
"I'm tired of hiding Dean. I wanna make a stand. I wanna go after this son of a bitch. I want back in," Sam said darkly.
Dean laughed, "Revenge? That didn't go too good for us last time."
"No, I want redemption. I'm tired of being their puppet, Dean. I want to end this."
"There's no ending this brother. We're in it for the long haul no matter what. The best thing we can do is pick a hemisphere and stay apart. Let 'em chase their tails trying to find us." Dean said taking a long drink of the cold beer.
Sam sighed, "Dean I can do this. I'll prove it to you, please."
"Look, Sam. Me and you we're the oil and fire of Armageddon. We should stay away from each other for good…what's between us love, family, whatever River's right they're gonna use it against us."
"Dean, we can fight this!" Sam urged.
"Yeah, we can. But not together. We aren't stronger together, we're weaker and you know that and so do they."
"Dean, don't do this." Sams grip tightened on around his cell.
"Bye Sammy." Dean disconnected the call and drained the rest of his beer. If he could get back to sleep he could get at least another three hours before Cas showed up. He flopped back on the bed and tucked his pillow around his head to block out the sounds of sirens blaring by outside. He woke sometime after dawn; the bright sunlight burning through his tired eyelids. He sat up groggily, squinting his eyes against the intruding sunlight. The light was pouring in through the broken window, shattered glass ground into the disgusting stained carpet. The lumpy bed he had fallen asleep on was now little more than a wire frame. The paint peeling and covered in black splotches of mold. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. Dean stood unsurely and made his way to the window. The sight outside was reflective of the room he stood in: complete destruction, cars overturned in the streets, trash blew by in the lite breeze, businesses were shuttered closed or with all the windows busted out. He made his was carefully down the sagging staircase and quietly crept out onto the deserted street. There were no signs of life, no stray dogs, no birds. Nothing but Dean and his pounding heart.
He walked several blocks, the destruction was widespread and void of life. Until he turned a corner and heard the sharp clatter of broken glass echoing from an alley. He crept towards the sounds and found a young girl kneeling on the ground in pile of glass. Her hair a dirty rats nest that framed her filthy face. "Little girl?" Dean murmured. She gurgled up a blob of thick bloody spit and growled. "Little…girl?" he repeated taking a step back. She suddenly sprang to her feet and lunged for him, snarling like a feral animal and slashing his arm with a shard of glass. He reacted on instinct and landed a solid blow to her tiny jaw sending her flying backwards into a pile of trash where she lay unconscious. The clamor drew a crowd, Dean was soon face to face with at least a dozen filthy snarling individuals. Their eyes void of any human emotion except malice.
Dean darted past them and ran as fast as his bowed legs could move. He pelted down the street avoiding the rusted remains of car crashes, chunks of exploded asphalt and pot holes. The snarling mass of bodies swarmed after him, he quickly ran out of open street and almost slammed into a fifteen foot high chain link fence. "Fuck," he muttered breathlessly. He turned to face the rabid group that was quickly gaining on him. The screech of brakes sounded from behind the chainlink fence as two military Humvees loaded with troops swerved to a stop. Guns N' Roses "Welcome to the Jungle" blaring from one of the vehicles as a half dozen camouflage covered soldieries jumped out, each swinging an AR-15. Dean dove behind a cement barrier as the soldiers unloaded into the crowd, bullet casings and blood splattering the dirty street. Once the soldiers had mowed down the snarling people they turned their automatic weapon fire on Dean as he scrambled from behind the barrier. He zig zagged down several streets finally diving into an alley and hiding behind a dumpster. The Humvees streaked past half a minute later still blaring Guns N' Roses.
Dean let out a long breath and wiped the sweat off his forehead with his shirt sleeve. He sat quietly behind the dumpster racking his brain as to what exactly he could be dealing with. A djinn? No, they dealt in happy dreams and this was certainly not that. Witches? Maybe. Under the cover of night he finally left his hiding spot and found a weak spot in the chainlink fence that he could squeeze through. Once on the other side of the fence he noticed a big metal sign wanting against trespassers "Warning Croatoan Hot Zone. Mandatory Evacuations in Place." Dean scratched some dried blood off the bottom of the sign and suddenly felt like the Earth dropped out from beneath him. A date was stamped onto the metal sign. A date five years in the future. He and his brother had encounter the Croatoan virus three years prior during their search for their missing father. The virus infected people with murderous rage, stripping them of their humanity and reason. The time jump he couldn't explain but maybe he could find someone that could.
Dean skirted through the empty streets until he found a decent looking car. A few minutes under the hood and more than a few choice words he got the car hot-wired and hit the road. His cellphone didn't work, the radio was nothing but static and he never passed another car or living soul on the open highway.
"Croatoan Pandemic reaches Austrailia" Zachariah's smug, self satisfied voice almost made Dean almost jump out of his skin.
"Son of a bitch. I should of known this had your stink all over it," Dean muttered.
Zachariah continued reading from the crinkled newspaper he held in his hands, "President Johnson defends bombing of Houston. How does one go from professional wrestler to President of the United States? Hmmm only in America." The Angel laughed. Dean just glared angrily across the seat. "Lets check the sports section- oh wait there are no more sports, Congress revoked the right to group assembly. Just asking for a bite fest."
"How the hell did you find me?"
Zachariah turned the page of the newspaper, "Well, since you've been hiding like a spineless coward we've had to employ some unorthodox methods as of late…we've infiltrated some fringe evangelical sects, a burning bush here, an inspirational session of speaking in tongues there. We've recruited a righteous army of human informants. We gave them your likeness with instructions to contact us with any sightings."
Dean shook his head, "The dime store preacher outside the hostel? He called the angelic tip line." Zachariah nodded. "Well you've had your fun now Marty McFly me back."
"Oh you'll get back, all in good time. Three days, Dean. We want you to see and understand where your defiance in the face of God will lead you."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Zachariah sighed loudly, "It means your choices have consequences, Dean." He snapped the newspaper at Dean, tapping at the headline, "This is what happens to the world if you say 'No' to Michael. Enjoy the sights, Dean." Zachariah disappeared leaving the neatly folded newspaper laying on the seat.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered slamming his fist into the steering wheel. He passed a bullet marred highway marker about fifteen minutes later; Sioux Falls 250 miles away.
The Singer Salvage yard looked little worse for wear, the piles of cars perhaps a bit more rusted than they had been previously. The house sagged at a pronounced slant, the bottom floor windows broken or boarded up. The door hung mostly open on its broken hinges, "Bobby?" Dean yelled through the crack, "Bobby! I'm comin' in!" He toed the door open and steeped into Bobby's cluttered foyer. Stacks of books, rolls of parchment and piles of trash were all covered in a heavy layer of dust. A quick scan of the floor told Dean no one had been inside the home in some time. He trekked further inside and found a rusted bullet riddled wheelchair in the kitchen. "Shit," he murmured touching his fingers to the dried streaks of blood. "Where is everybody?" Dean left the wheelchair and systematically checked each of Bobby's hiding spots until he found the older Hunters journal in the secret compartment above the ornate fireplace. Inside he found a wrinkled black and white photo; Bobby in his wheelchair surrounded by six people Dean didn't know and two he did. Cas and River stood on the periphery of the group, each cradling an assault rifle and standing in front of sign for a place called 'Camp Chitaqua'. Dean vaguely remembered the camp from his childhood years, Bobby had taken him and Sam there for archery practice.
The camp was easy enough to find from memory alone. Getting in the camp was a bit more a challenge, the perimeter of the camp was protected by high chain link fences and roaming sets of armed guards. Dean was about to give up and wait for daylight when a rusted metal skeleton caught his attention, "Oh Baby, no. What did they do to you?" The remains of his beloved Impala were on the other side of the fence. He waited for the armed sentries to pass and nimbly climbed the chainlink. He was so distracted by the gut wrenching site of his beautiful car dismantled and left to rot that he didn't see the shadow converge on him.
When he woke sometime later Dean found himself handcuffed to a pipe in a dimly lit basement. His green eyes roamed over the dark shapes of the basement before they settled on his doppelgänger sitting across the room, cleaning a rifle like he didn't have a care in the world. "Wondered when you'd wake up," the other Dean said quietly setting the riffle down.
Dean pulled on the handcuff and sighed, "Look man, I'm not a shapeshifter or a demon or anything…"
"Yeah, I know. I ran all the tests while you were out: silver, holy water, salt. Nothing. But you know whats funny? You carry every lock pick, box cutter and switch blade that I carry," the other Dean pointed to a pile of confiscated weapons on the table next to his rifle. "And how do you explain the devilishly handsome mug you're wearing?"
Dean shifted on the hard ground, "Zachariah."
The other Dean stood up and looked down at him, "Come again?"
"I'm you from about five year ago give or take. Zach plucked me outta bed and zapped me here."
Future Dean cocked his head and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, "If you're me, tell me something only we would know."
Dean pursed his lips quickly racking his brain, "Oh. Ok. Rhonda Hurley. We were 19? She made us try on her panties." Dean smiled, embarrassed at the memory, "They were pink. And satiny. And you know what? We kind of like it."
"Touche'," Future Dean responded. "So Zachariah sent you here to what? Show you how bad things get?"
"Yeah I guess," Dean took a deep breath, "Croatoan virus is their endgame?"
Future Dean nodded, "Yep. Blood borne, highly infective. Scary as hell. Incurable. Turns people into monsters. Started hitting all the major cities about two years ago, it was worldwide within six months. Everything kind of went to shit after that."
"What about Sam?"
Future Dean paused his brows furrowed, "Heavy weight showdown in Detroit. From what I understand, Sam didn't make it."
"You weren't with him?"
Future Dean shook his head, "Me and Sam hadn't talked in…a long time."
"We never went after him?"
"No, we had other people to look after." Future Dean gathered his rifle and stuffed his pockets with extra bullets from a box on the table.
"Where are you goin?"
"I got an errand to run," Dean answered vaguely. "You're safer down here. I got a camp full of twitchy, trigger happy survivors out there. I don't need you topside messing with anyones heads….I'll leave the light on for ya." Future Dean gave him a sarcastic smile then left him alone. It took Dean until dawn to get free of the handcuffs. He walked outside to fresh, cold air and dull winter sunlight. He was in a building on the periphery of the settlement. He'd only walked a few dozen yards when he heard raised voices coming from between a couple of cabins to his left. Dean cautiously headed towards the angry voices and peaked around the corner. He saw two women standing a few feet apart apparently in the middle of a heated discussion.
"Just tell me if he was in your cabin last night!" The taller brunette yelled.
The other woman was shorter with red hair piled into a messy knot on top of her head, "Rissa, how times do I have to tell you I moved out of our cabin over a year ago. I have no fucking idea who Dean is fucking anymore, ok? But it certainly isn't me." Dean ducked back behind the wall as River turned away from Rissa.
"You slut! You think you can just strut around camp like the Queen Bee…Me and Dean have a connection, he told me himself!" Rissa yelled as she dove for River's back. River stumbled under the other woman's weight, slipping on the soft earth but quickly recovering. She flipped Rissa off of her, pinned her to the ground, wrapping her legs around the other woman and pulled Rissa's right arm into an armbar Chuck Liddell would have tapped out of. Dean heard Rissa cry out in pain as River adjusted her hold.
"Let's just clarify a few things shall we?" River grunted. "Number 1: Technically I'm still married to Dean which means you're fucking my husband making you the slut. Number 2: Don't ever try and attack me when my back is turned. I take that shit personally. Number 3: Queen Bee? I see myself as more of a Veronica than a Heather." River glanced up and saw Dean checking from behind the wall. "Oh look, here's Don Juan De Douchebag now. Why don't you ask him where he spent the night?" River released her hold on the other woman, Rissa scrambled for her feet and glared at Dean. She huffed loudly without speaking to him and stormed off, rubbing her sore arm. River chuckled to herself wiping the mud off her pants. "That's a good one you picked, Winchester. She's lots of fun."
"Wh-what?" Dean stammered.
"Get your girlfriend a muzzle," River told him walking past him.
"Hey, Riv. Wait! I need to talk to you!" he yelled.
She kept walking and yelled over her shoulder, "I think Chuck needs to see you." Dean spun around and watched as Chuck Shurely, prophet of the Lord, walked quickly towards him.
"Dean! Thank goodness, I need to talk to you about our supplies. We are good on canned food for now but we are desperately low on personal hygiene supplies. There's a crew leaving in an hour and I need the ok to send them with this new list," Chuck handed Dean a scribbled list of items including among other things toilet paper and toothpaste.
"Yeah, Chuck. Sure. Whatever," Dean mumbled pushing past him.
Chuck nodded, "Great….Wait. I though you were out on a mission?"
Dean lost track of River in the winding maze of tents, cabins and vehicles. He wondered around for several minutes, trying to avoid any more run-ins with pissed off women or people wanting him to make decisions.
River made her way across the compound to one of the larger buildings. She entered quietly and watched from the doorway as Castiel preached to his flock of concubines. "…in that way we are all one part of the bigger collection of energies that make up the shared perception of reality. And the way to gather our energies together to open that higher perception is surprisingly physical." Several of the women in the group leaned forward expectantly. River sighed loudly, rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Castiel looked over his shoulder and met River's annoyed blue eyes, he smiled at her and she raised her eyebrows in return. "Ladies, I think I should pause there. We'll resume in just a short while. Why don't you all get prepared for the orgy?" The women smiled at Cas and left as he asked.
"Orgy, Castiel?" River said kicking her boots off and sitting on one of the fluffy pillows next to him. Cas shrugged his shoulders and smirked. "You do remember what today is right?"
"Uhmm…Thursday?" He said dreamily.
"No, Cas. It's our supply run. The run you promised to go on with me. You said you'd fucking have my back while I lead six greenies three blocks into the red zone for some fucking toilet paper." She poked him angrily in the arm.
Cas jerked his arm away and rubbed where she had just poked him, "Oh…River it must have slipped my mind. I can't cancel the orgy. They're depending on me…and I already took two Viagra."
River sighed angrily, running her hands through her red hair. Hair that now had a thick chunk of stark white strands near her right temple. "You promised. God damn it, Cassie I need you with me. I've got six kids to take care of out there. The oldest one is 19!"
"You look tense. How about I give you a massage?" Castiel leaned over and started rubbing her neck.
"The last time you gave me massage…."she groaned letting her head drop, "I don't have time for your tantric sex bullshit. And I don't wanna catch 'the Clap'. I treated some of those hoes after your last 'orgy' and I don't want any part of that. A little to the left…oh fuck yeah right there, Angel." Castiel worked a particularly stiff knot out of her shoulder blade and she moaned contentedly. "Do you need anything specific while I'm out there? Chuck wants me to look for hand sanitizer and wet wipes."
"Anything that contains amphetamines would be nice. Maybe some more oxycontin?"
She turned to look at him, "I am not helping you with your drug addiction. Sober the fuck up, Cas. Between you and Dean…" The beaded curtain jangled and in stepped Dean. "Speaking of our fearless leader; I thought you were going on a mission today?" Dean stopped at the doorway, looking at the candles and incense burning on tables and pillars around the room then down at Cas and River.
"Huh? Oh umm yeah…about that," Dean stuttered.
River was on her feet in an instant gun drawn and pointed at Dean's face. Dean didn't pause, didn't stutter, when he talked it was prepared, well thought out and meticulous. Like he didn't have time or patience for idle chit chat anymore. On top of that River hadn't seen him without that god damn thigh holster in almost two years. "Cas what is he? I thought shifters were extinct."
Castiel nodded and stood slowly investigating Dean with his keen cornflower blue eyes. He placed a hand gently on River's pistol and she shot him an unsure look, "This is very strange. You're you. But not from 'now'. When are you from?"
"What the hell are you talking about Cassie?" River murmured.
"I can explain," Dean said quickly.
"Do it fast or I shoot," River told him.
"I'm me. I'm just from five years ago."
Cas nodded his head serenely, "Fascinating. Who did this to you? Was it Zachariah?"
"Yes! Exactly," Dean smiled and clapped his hands, "So how about you strap on your Angel wings and fly me back home."
River smiled humorlessly, "Cas ain't an Angel anymore, sugar lips."
Castiel laughed as well and shook his head, "No more Angel wings, Dean-o."
"What? Are you stoned? Is he stoned?" Dean asked turning to River.
She nodded and tucked her gun into her belt, "Yeah as a general rule he is. Heavens cut off, they battered down the hatches when shit hit the fan in Detroit. Cas' grace just kind of…fizzled out and now he's a fucking sex obsessed drug addict…. You two should catch up." She said pulling her boots back on like a time traveler appearing in their midst was common place.
"So umm…. you married me?" Dean asked as she stood back up, tucking her hair back into a tight knot out of her face.
River reached her hand out and softly traced Dean's jaw then placed her palm on his chest over his anti-possession tattoo, "It was the biggest, best mistake of my life." She looked over her shoulder at Castiel, "I gotta go. We should be back before sunset." Castiel flopped back down on his favorite pillow and pulled a stale joint out of his pocket. He lit it and offered Dean a hit, Dean shook his head tiredly and watched as River left through the beaded curtain.
She left Castiel's cabin and made her way to the line of waiting jeeps by the exit gate where her team had assembled. A small group of zitty, nervous teenagers stood waiting for her. The only ones that could apparently be spared for the supply run. Dean had taken the more able-bodied on his own excursion and they weren't expected back for several more hours. River swallowed down the annoying tendrils of fear that crept up her spine when she head to leave the safety of the compound and signaled to her party to head out.
Future Dean returned from his own mission before mid-afternoon. He immediately called a meeting with Dean, Chuck (who nervously sat in for River) and Cas who kicked his feet up on the table and immediately fell asleep. "So what was your mission?" Dean asked himself.
Future Dean smiled and sat his duffle bag down on the table, "This." He reached inside and within the folds of a piece of black fabric he pulled out the Colt.
"The Colt? Where was it?" Dean asked standing up to get a better look.
"Everywhere, they've been moving it around for the last five years. But our intel finally paid off. And if anything can kill the Devil it's this."
Chuck raised a nervous hand, "But is there anything that can find Satan?"
Future Dean smiled widely, "Don't need to find him. I already know exactly where he is."
Castiel roused himself, "And how exactly do we know where Lucifer is?"
"The demon we caught last week, he was in the big guys inner circle. He told me exactly where to find the son of a bitch."
"So your trusting the word of a demon?" Dean asked.
Castiel chuckled, "Our fearless leader is very good at getting to the truth."
"Torture? Is that what you mean? We're torturing again? That's classy." Dean sneered in disgust.
Future Dean smirked cockily, "River was right there with me. She's pretty good with a pair of pliers and a blowtorch." He pulled a map out of his jacket pocket and pointed to a red circle, "He's here, I know the street and the building. We head out tonight at midnight." The meeting was interrupted by a loud knock on the door to Dean's cabin. Dean opened the door and a sweaty, pale man stood unsurely before him. "I said no interruptions."
"Yes, sir. I know but River is back-"
"Then tell her to report here. Rissa or Jane or one of the others can take inventory," Dean barked.
The man took a step back, "She's waiting for you outside the gate, sir."
"Tell her to get her stubborn ass in here now!"
"She's outside the gate sir. She wants to see you, both of you and Castiel," the man stammered and retreated quickly from Dean after he waived him off.
A muscle twitched in Dean's neck and he turned back towards the table. He grabbed the Colt and stuffed it in the back of his jeans. "You all stay here. We'll finish this when we get back. You two," Future Dean pointed at Dean and Cas, "Come on." They walked quickly through the darkening camp towards the main gate. Two jeeps were being unloaded of boxes by several people. Three armed guards stood at the gate staring out. Dean nodded to one of the men and the gate was swung open. River stood a few dozen feet away her arms crossed over her chest. "River, what happened out there?" Dean called to her. She held a hand up indicating for him to stop.
"We got the supplies. You should be good for a while if you ration," she smiled sadly. "I found these, Cas. It's Adderall and some hydromorphone. Don't OD." She tossed the pill bottles to Cas.
"What happened?" Dean repeated. She held up her other hand, it was wrapped in a bloody bandage. "No! Fuck! God damn it!" he yelled.
She lowered her arm to her side. Dean stared, unsure of exactly what was going on, "River, sweet heart, come inside we'll get you cleaned up."
"It doesn't work like that, hot stuff…. Don't come any closer!" River yelled when he took a few steps towards her. The men behind the gate shifted, she could hear them pulling the slides back on their rifles. "It was me or them Dean. I chose them, they're just kids…" She blinked several times and took a deep breath, "We wasted so much time pushing each other away." She paused again to watch a flock of geese fly over the crystal blue lake behind the camp, "I always loved you. From the minute you quoted Vonnegut in that shitty laundromat it was all over for me," she looked into Dean's forrest green eyes then turned to the cold eyes of her Dean, "Bury me next to Bobby." Future Dean gave her one quick nod of his head.
"Wh-?" Before Dean could ask what she meant River pulled her pistol from behind her back, tucked it under her jaw and pulled the trigger. The shot was deafening, her head snapped back and she crumpled silently to the soft earth. Dean wasn't entirely sure if he screamed out loud or if it was only an echo in his head.
"Don't get her blood on you, it can still be contagious." Future Dean cautioned as Dean kneeled next to River's dead body. He was going to be sick, or kill someone, or scream again. His mind couldn't decide on what his reaction should be so he sat there on his knees in shock. "We can't spare the fuel to burn her and the smoke…it might alert Croats to where we are. She knew that." Future Dean cleared his throat and signaled to the men at the gate. Dean stared numbly as they picked River's dead body up and placed it on a truck bed and drove away. Castiel opened the pill bottles and chewed one of each, grimacing at the bitter taste. They silently walked back to Dean's cabin. "She'd want us to finish this."
"I'll round up the grunts," Cas told them quietly before splintering off.
Dean was still numb, having trouble processing what had just happened. "Why am I going with you?"
"You need to see something. You need to understand why you're here," Future Dean told him. "Sam didn't die in Detroit. He said yes to Lucifer."
"What? He wouldn't-"
"He did. And I said 'no' to Michael and here we are. I thought by saying no I'd save them. Instead I've had to watch as one by one they're taken from me. Sammy, Bobby, Castiel and now her." He shook his head, "You need to understand so you can change it. You can say 'Yes' to Michael and you can stop this."
Dean's group left the compound before midnight. Castiel pointed to a large oak tree about a quarter mile outside the gate, "Thats where Bobby and River are. It's a nice view. I like to get high there sometimes." They drove until dawn and arrived in the middle of the red zone.
Lucifer was using the old Jacksonville Sanatorium as the hub of his new empire. The streets surrounding the Sanatorium were mysteriously void of any Croat activity. "He's on the third floor. We go straight through that door and head up the stairwell. They'll never see us comin'. Check your weapons we head in in five," Future Dean told his small group, a muscle twitched in his jaw and he avoided Castiel's gaze.
"Can I talk to you a minute?" Dean asked himself. He led him to a secluded spot a ways from the group, "Why are you lying to them?" Future Dean smiled but didn't deny it. "I know the look, I've seen it in the mirror a thousand times."
Future Dean let out a long breath and ran his hand over his jaw,"They're a distraction ok? They go in the front and they'll draw any Croats or Demons to them leaving the back entrance open for us."
"There is something majorly broken in you, in us, if you're even considering using your friends as bait."
"This is the only way. I have to end this. There's people depending on me to end this and save the world. I'll do what needs to be done because I couldn't before. I failed, I let the world end. I will end this tonight."
"I'm not gonna let you sacrifice them. There's another way," Dean told him.
Future Dean shook his head, "No there isn't." He slammed the butt of his rifle into Deans jaw and then there was nothing but blackness. Dean woke sometime later to the distant sound of gunfire and screams. He still lay in the clearing but Castiel and the others were already gone. He ran towards the building searching for an entrance and found himself in a courtyard overgrowing with wild rose bushes. In the center of the courtyard the other him was trapped, flat on his back with a hulking white-suit wearing figure standing over him, one alabaster loafer pressed into his neck. The figure shifted his weight effortlessly snapping Deans neck. The hollow crack echoed off the stones and Deans stomach turned watching as the light behind his own eyes went out. It's not every day you watch yourself die.
The figure slowly turned towards Dean, lighting crashed almost poetically in the background and illuminated Sam's hazel eyes. Except they weren't his brothers eyes, not exactly. Something was missing. There was a coldness that radiated off of him. "Hello, Dean. How very interesting it is to see you here," He said stepping over the other Dean's dead body. "You've traveled a long way to see this. Haven't you?" Dean remained silent. "I'm sorry. It must be very difficult for you to see me like this. But it always had to be Sam." He reached a hand towards Dean and the hunter pulled away with a sneer. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Dean. What is it you think I'm going to do?"
"Oh, I don't know you just killed me so I guess it's onto roasting the planet?"
Lucifer laughed, "Why would I do that? Why would I destroy the last beautiful, perfect creation of my father?" He inspected a perfect red rose blossom, "Do you know why I was cast out of heaven?"
Dean sighed loudly, "Please no bedtime stories. I've heard this one before."
Lucifer cocked an eyebrow and turned back towards the hunter, "Then you know after my father created you, the hairless apes. He told us, his true children, to bow down and love you above all else. Above Him. My brothers and sisters kneeled obediently but not me. I saw you for what you truly were. Destructive, murderous, flawed. I refused and my father had Michael throw me into Hell." He shook his head and watched as another bolt of lightening arched across the sky. "And there I've been while 6 billion of you destroy this perfect garden my Father created. And the whole time you blame me for the destruction. Who's really burning this planet?"
Dean laughed, "Some part of me thought you'd be a little more impressive. But you're just the same bottom dwelling, belly dragging, piece of supernatural crap monster I've been squashing my whole life. Your ego's just a little bigger."
"I like you, Dean," Lucifer laughed. "We'll meet again." He turned away from Dean and walked back towards the brick building behind them.
"You better kill me!" Dean yelled.
Lucifer turned back around, "Excuse me?"
"You better kill me now! Otherwise I will find a way to kill you. I won't stop. Ever." Dean growled.
"I know, Dean. But I also know you will never say 'yes' to Michael. And you will never kill your brother," The Devil smiled broadly, "No matter what you do, the small details may change but you will always end up here. I win….So see you in five years." Lightening struck a rose bush engulfing it in flames. There was a flap of wings and Dean was alone in the courtyard, watching as bloom after bloom caught fire. Dean turned in a circle, watching as the fire grew around him when Zachariah appeared in front of him. The Angle touched Dean's forehead and the courtyard vanished. Dean found himself back in the kitchenette of the dingy motel room he'd fallen asleep in.
"Get that shit eating grin off your face you smug son of a bitch," Dean growled at the Angel.
Zachariah just shook his head. "Enough Dean. Enough," he said quietly. "You saw what happened. You can stop that. Prevent those you love from dying horrible deaths." He put a hand on Dean's shoulder, " You can prove the Devil wrong; all you have to do is say 'yes' to Michael."
Dean stepped back, letting Zachariahs arm fall, "How do I know this isn't one of your tricks?"
"The time for tricks is over," Zachariah told him sincerely, "Say yes to Michael and we can strike Lucifer down before he gets to Sam."
Dean closed his eyes, remembering the sound River's body made as it hit muddy earth, the screams of his dying friends. "Nah. I don't think so."
Zachariah's eyes went wide when he spoke again his voice was tight, "You are really going to make this painful for yourself aren't you?" Dean shrugged his shoulders. "I can send you back there as many times as it takes until it finally sinks into that hollow head-" The Angel took a threatening step towards Dean. Dean steeled himself for whatever Zachariah had planned when he felt a tug around his midsection. When he blinked he was no longer staring into Zachariahs furious face instead Castiel stood in front of him with a bemused smile.
"Great timing, Cas," Dean told him.
"We had an appointment," Castiel replied.
"Don't ever change Cas" Dean said pulling out his cellphone.
"What are you doing?"
"Something I should've done in the first place," he muttered.
Several hours later Dean found himself waiting on an overgrown dirt road, leaning against the hood of his car waiting for his brothers arrival. Sam was punctual, as usual. His own stolen car trundling down the dirt road towards Dean. His younger brother got out of the car slowly and walked towards him. "Hey, Sammy." He said quietly. Sam nodded unsurely. Dean cleared his throat, reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved the Demon blade.
"Dean?" Sam asked taking a half step back from his brother.
Dean held the blade for a minute before turning the handle towards his brother, "If you really want back in, you should probably keep this. You're probably rusty."
The younger Winchester took the knife, "Thank you, Dean."
"Look, I'm sorry for what I said. We might be each others Kryptonite. They might use that against us, " He let his eyes drift past his brother, "But I also know we are all we have and we keep each other human."
Sam nodded, "What do we do now?"
"We stop being their fucking puppets," Dean answered.
"So she was stripping?" Sam asked a while later. Dean had already given him the Spark notes version of his time in the future and now they were catching each other up on what had transpired since they defeated Famine.
Dean nodded, "Yeah. The pole. The strobe lights. These little sparkly stickers on her tits….the whole nine yards." Sam's face scrunched up, he hadn't really ever wanted to imagine River with sparkly nipples and yet there was the mental image.
"Where is she now?"
"Don't know. Said she had a case in South Carolina or North Carolina… Definitely one of the Carolinas," he replied looking across the seat at his brother. "Maybe you could uh…maybe you could try calling her. She won't answer if she thinks its me."
Sam laughed and pulled his phone out of his jacket. He scrolled through his contacts until he found River's spare phone number. It rang in his ear several times before she finally answered. "Who is this?" River yelled into the phone, loud music blaring in the background.
"Hey, Riv. It's Sam." Sam heard her curse under her breath and the music ceased.
"Whats up Sam? You Ok?"
Sam smiled, "Yeah I'm ok. How about you?"
"Yeah sure…" she laughed nervously, "No not really actually."
"What happened?" Sam put the phone on speaker and Dean unconsciously leaned towards it.
"You with Dean?"
"Yeah I'm here," Dean answered.
River sighed, "Well I'm glad the bands back together…you two need to watch your asses… More so than usual."
"Why?"
"Had a run in with some hunters. Apparently it's becoming common knowledge we had a hand in breaking the Apocalypse piñata," River answered.
"Shit. I didn't think word would spread that fast," Sam muttered.
"Are you ok?" Dean asked her.
"Yeah. I mean, I probably wouldn't be if I wasn't such a good shot…" She let out another nervous laugh followed by a sniff. "I didn't tell them my real name but they figured out who I was pretty quick…I think I killed at least two of them. I killed two hunters, Dean. I'm fucked."
"What the hell happened Princess?"
"They were gonna…I don't know kidnap me or something and try and draw you two out. Ambush you or some shit." Her hand hold the steering wheel was suddenly sweaty and she jostled the phone onto her shoulder so she could wipe her palms on her dirty jeans.
"River, where are you?" Sam asked.
"I don't know Tennessee or Mississippi? Maybe Arkansas? I've been driving all night."
"Where ever you are pull over. Get a room and we'll come get you." Dean told her.
"No. No. No," she muttered under her breath. She glanced in the rearview mirror half convinced she was being followed. "I'm gonna just keep on truckin' on my end, Dean. I think this just kind of proves I should stay away until you get a real plan together."
"God damn it, stop being stubborn. We have a plan. We're gonna kill the Devil," Dean answered.
"Are you serious?" she laughed loudly on her end, "You're fucking serious. How?"
"Well, Cas thinks the Colt might still be in play."
"The Colt? The fucking gun Bela stole and sold to the highest bidder? The very same gun we wasted like five months trying to find? It's gone Dean. It was gone the minute that hell bound bitch handed it over."
"Riv, just stop driving, get a room and call us back." Sam said.
"I can't. I have a thing in Texas I need to get to."
"What thing, River?" Dean demanded.
"Don't fucking worry about it. I'll be in touch." With that she ended the phone call leaving Sam and Dean to stare at each other in silence.