(Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Thanks for the favorites, reviews, and follows. Constructive criticism is always welcomed as well.)

Summary: AU (from apocalypse to bunker) Dean thought that it just couldn't get any worse, but let's say, moving along in time was not what he expected, especially by an angel he never expected to see again. Haunted by his past and the future -with all the secrets & uncertainties- Dean will have to try to adjust to everything thrown his and Sam's way and then Cass' way later on.

Chapter 5: Thrill of the Hunt?

. . . .

Good things just didn't happen to Dean Winchester, not in his experience. Why would this be any exception? It was when Sam got out of the bathroom when he said something about the fighting mainly because of the looks the two of them were throwing at one another when he came out the door. "Would you two stop it? You were already arguing like a married couple outside."

Dean froze for a second. "You heard that?"

"Yeah, it was kinda hard not too."

He clasped his hands together tightly. "Uh, what did you hear?"

Sam shrugged. "Nothing really, just something about fighting, I couldn't really hear anything else. Why, was it important?"

Dean forced a laugh. "Nah, just some crap going on in the world." It wasn't a total lie. He gave the kid a tiny grin. "Nothing you need to worry about Samantha."

Similar green eyes rolled at the name. "Alright, whatever you say." Sam began to talk with Cass about something basic that didn't interest Dean at all, so he stared out the window, watching the clouds. He looked to his left as smoke swirled around his side, covering his view. He turned away from the smoke wafting up into the air, facing something much worse. Red outlined everything now. There was crimson on the ground, on the building a little down the road. He stiffly walked toward it, opening the door a crack to judge if something was going to rush out at him. He paused, tilting his head to listen. He thought he heard something, but he wasn't sure, so he opened the door all the way, taking out his gun as his free hand hit the doorbell. It surprisingly worked.

He waited for at least five seconds, and nothing showed its ugly face, so Dean looked over his shoulder to see his group of people scattered along the road, making their way over to him. He had only taken four with him this time to roundup survivors because they had been too late to reach the town in time to beat Lucifer's destruction. One of his group screamed, and his body snapped to attention, spinning toward them and heading down the steps; he took three at a time. However, a screech echoed behind him, and when he turned, all he saw was a face inches from his own and the thing launching itself at him.

He had been the only one to come back that night; he didn't know why or how. Honestly, he couldn't really remember it. It was pretty much a blur, but he always wondered how the hell it was possible that he wasn't torn to shreds by whatever had grabbed ahold of him. He had assumed it was luck and skill, but was it something else entirely? No, that wasn't possible. Yet, the angel's words kept coming to his attention. What was he talking about? He couldn't wrap his head around it.

I wouldn't have done that… Ever think that I never left you…? He couldn't trust any word that angel uttered or spoken, but there was a part of him that wished he would trust him, but there was another telling him that he could never. It was almost like the Sammy Debate going on in his head, but it was like the complete opposite. Sammy's side was prevailing over the other by a thin margin, while the other argument was leaning toward the angel being untrustworthy and a liar; he was just trying to fuck with his head like the angel even admitted on doing. It was only needed when I lied and deceived you Dean, his thoughts growled. Frigging angel-

His thoughts came to a sudden stop when he felt eyes on him. Out of the corner of his eye, he identified the source of the disturbance. It was Cass yet again. He glared at him fiercely, and the angel just continued observing him without much emotion present on his face. Dean then noticed Sammy's gaze lingering on him. He simply stood up and walked toward the door. "Hey Dean, where are you-"

"The bathroom," he said curtly. "Wanna come and hold my hand, Sam?" He didn't wait for the answer, and he just closed the bathroom door behind him (not the other door - the one he had intended on taking at first), locking it afterward. He exhaled as he made his way to the sink, turning on the water. For fifteen seconds he watched the water gush out, and then he put his hands into the water. He washed his hands in the ice cold water, watching the water clean them off. After he finished and turned off the sink, he stared at the drain. His ears picked up hushed murmuring in the other room, but perhaps he didn't care to listen to them because his eyes rose to meet his reflection's eyes and tuned them out the best he could.

It wasn't difficult because they were intentionally being quiet, he knew this, but didn't bother to eavesdrop to find out what they were talking about. He didn't want to be part of their slumber party anyway. Green eyes stared back at green, and a blank expression made it to his face. His thoughts began to drift to Sam and how the creature was still roaming around. He'd hate if that thing came back tonight. He could only imagine that thing grabbing hold of his baby brother, tearing him apart or causing him to have that "sickness" again. His eyes narrowed. It was bound to happen another night; he couldn't let it get Sam again. He wouldn't let it do anything to anyone ever again.

He was going to end it. Somehow, he was going to make sure the thing paid for what it did. His eyes went back to the drain, seeing the leftover water hanging around the edge. It takes only a little to start something; he made the sink drip a bit. The water clumped together with the leftover water. It would take a lot more to finish it; he turned the water all the way on. It hit the rest of the water camping in the sink and down it all went. All he needed was to start hunting the bitch down. That would be the easiest part; next, he'd have to gank the whatever it was, and he would do it on his own. There was no way in hell he'd let Sammy go with him, and the angel was going to stay the fuck out of his way.

He heard the mumbling as he turned the water off another time. He paid it no attention, opting to look back at his reflection. He hated that what the angel told him made him confused and unsure. He studied his own eyes gazing back at him. What do I not know, angel? Show me what I'm missing if it's anything.

He thought about everyone that he had at his camp; no one came off as an angel in the least. He couldn't pick off anything that seemed off about his crew, except… Actually, there wasn't much difference from anyone in his group from the ones outside it, and no one had lasted that long with Dean in command. It wasn't that he didn't care- he did; it was just how his team and him were the only ones brave enough to attack Lucifer if need be. Some just got so terrified that they'd run off before they took a mission that was anywhere near Lucifer; they'd just split and run. Others just didn't make it or were not as equip with weapons. Slowly one person came to mind- Chuck. He has never gotten seriously injured for some reason, most likely from Dean being there by his side. For Dean, it was a duty to protect, and Chuck had always been there since Dean understood that the writer knew more about this "type" of life than anyone else. Dean wondered if that's what Cass had been talking about. No, it couldn't be because Chuck was just that, Chuck.

He would have noticed if Chuck was an angel, especially if it had been Cass. That angel had been seriously socially constipated or something. Dean managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes. If it wasn't anyone around him, then who was he? Where was he? He definitely wasn't trapped inside Sam's head alongside Lucifer. Was that possible? Dean didn't have a clue, but he guessed no. The Winchester was so perplexed, so bewildered, that he searched his own eyes. What am not seeing? You better not be pulling my chain, Cass.

He didn't witness anything to suggest something was off about himself until he saw his eyes change to blue, but when he blinked, it was no longer there.

. . . .

They had waited until Dean disappeared into the bathroom to begin to talk quietly with one another. Cass and Sam shared a similar worry about Dean, they realized after a bit. Sam frowned slightly. "I don't know what's wrong, Cass. He's been like this for a day or two, and it seemed to get worse after you showed up."

The angel's lips pulled down some as well. He wasn't going to tell Sam about where this Dean came from because something about Dean's thoughts and actions prevented him from doing so. He had noticed Dean's reaction to Sam admitting that he heard Cass and Dean yelling - well Dean's screaming and Cass' statements. "I'm not sure…" His voice trailed off as he picked up Dean's thoughts in the bathroom on accident. He was thinking about the creature and Sam. Dean didn't fully believe that it was just a rare disease. He couldn't really blame him because it hadn't been true anyway. He had sensed Dean's guilt as soon as he arrived, so he thought it was better to lie to make it easier for Dean to handle. It didn't really seem to matter though.

Sam sighed. "I'm worried. It's like he has the mark again…" The Winchester's face seemed to crumble more. "Or something worse."

"Why don't you talk to him?"

He shook his head. "Dean won't let me even try." He had been sitting up since they had gotten back to his room other than heading to the bathroom, so he leaned back for a more comfortable position. It went silent in the room for a minute until Sam turned to glance at Cass. "Hey, do you think you could talk to him?"

Cass' brows came together. "I don't think he likes me very much at the moment."

"Might as well try."

"I don't-"

"Come on, Cass. Please?" The human's eyes pleaded along with his voice. "Just try because… I don't think he wants to talk to me about it."

And you think I'm a better option? Cass stared at the youngest Winchester. They were family now, and if he learned anything from the Winchesters, it was that family stuck together and did everything for one another because that was all they had in the long run. Therefore, Cass could only do one thing; he had to agree to try to help out. "Alright, Sam, I will."

Sam's face immediately brightened. "Thanks, Cass."

"Of course." He gave Sam a smile in return, and then, the bathroom door opened.

. . . .

Dean could only conclude that his mind was playing tricks on him because he didn't "see" anything else. He made a face at the mirror and turned to exit the bathroom, but decided to pick something up along his way. It was a small basket of some sort of food, at least he thought it was. He walked back into Sam's room, basket in hand as he took three pieces in his mouth. Instantly, his face twisted a bit at the taste. He sat down in an empty chair and tried another piece, getting the same taste. He didn't notice the tense silence he was sitting in, so he broke through it without realizing it. He made a face of disgust. "Okay, what the hell is this crap? It's terrible." He placed another in his cakehole - mouth or whatever name you to want to call it.

"Dean."

"What," he questioned, eyes looking over at Sam, who was speaking.

"That's soap."

"What? No." He raised a brow at the basket. "You're kidding right?" From Sam's face, he understood he was being totally serious. "Oh, you're serious." He shrugged, popping another into his face to try it again; it was the same taste. "I guess it could have been worse." He had to eat some weird crap back where he came from, and the majority of the time ended with him having to wash out his mouth. This time he was already way ahead of that. "But I thought only those expensive hotels or whatever had these…" He paused, looking at the remaining pieces. "Oh well." He smirked over at Sam, putting another in his mouth. "Look, I'm minty fresh."

"Dude, seriously," groaned Sam when Dean showed a mouthful of the soap pieces.

"I didn't know they came in mint flavor." Cass was puzzled.

Dean glared, rolling his eyes. "No, it's a joke." He made sure he didn't snarl out an "angel," cutting himself off at the last second. He put the basket on the edge of the bed, and he crossed his arms over his chest. They were both looking at him again. He was getting more annoyed as the seconds rolled on, so he decided to direct their focus on the more pressing issue now that Sam was better. "Don't we have to find your mystery woman, Sammy?"

"My mystery woman?"

"Yeah, she was all over you." A grin pulled at his face. "You can't tell me you didn't notice."

Sam rolled his eyes another time that day. "All I saw was her kicking your ass, Dean."

"True, but she…"

His brother stopped him from continuing. "Find anything on it?"

"Found zip." He had been a bit busy stepping in the line of fire for Sam, admittedly not very well, but he had tried. "But it does seem to change shape sometimes. It's definitely ugly after that."

Sam nodded. "Alright, now we need to find a computer."

"Don't worry, I can get one." Dean stood up, rolling his stiff shoulders. Dropping his voice lower, he stated, "I'll be back." He had known where the Doctor stored the laptop because he had watched him put it back in its spot, and he even knew the passcode to get into the cabinet. Once he got his hands on it, he walked back to Sam's room, placing the laptop behind his back only once to hide it from passerbys. He opened the door, closed it behind him, and gave Sam the laptop. "Here ya go whiz. Have fun."

Another eyeroll from Sam; it was barely noticeable, but Dean had seen it. The laptop was placed open on the bed, and Dean briefly explained his research to his brother, and within twenty minutes, Sam discovered what the creature could possibly be. "It says it's an Aswang."

"Didn't we hunt one of those things before?"

"Yeah, but this is different. There are two different kinds."

Dean looked over at the screen. "Apparently. So how do you kill this one?"

"This one either originated in the Philippines or maybe Cuba. It's not really specific. It says some can shapeshift, and…" He scrolled down the page. "There's a few common things that'll hurt it. Light can do the trick, so that would explain the flashlight." He paused, noting Dean's bored face. "Alright, let me find how to kill it." It took a few minutes. "Found it. You can use a Bolo Knife and cut off its head, that's one way."

Dean was the only one that seemed glad about the news, while the other two had expressions of confusion.

"Where do you find a bolo knife?" Cass asked the question that neither Sam nor himself knew the answer to. Dean must have, but Cass wasn't going to dig into his head if he didn't need to. He never enjoyed going in anyone's head. It was just something that happened, especially if their thoughts were really loud. For an example, Dean's were always jumping out from among the crowd, no matter which Dean it was. He was just a loud- very loud- thinker.

"Really, you don't know where to get those things?" Dean raised a brow. "Wow… You can find them all over farms in the south."

"We should go get one and tonight we'll-" Sam started.

"No, I am going to get one and kill the bitch, while you stay here and rest up."

"Dean," Sam sighed. "I feel fine. I can help-"

"You weren't fine a few hours ago, Sam, so you're staying here. That's it, no arguing."

Sam narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to object when Cass said. "I'll go get the knife." With that, the angel disappeared, leaving a fluttering sound in his wake. Surprised? Well so was he when his broken wings had begun to mend themselves together somehow. He wasn't sure how they fixed themselves; he just knew that they did almost two weeks prior. However, it still took a lot of energy for him to teleport away and back again, so he tended not to do it if necessary.

After he had gotten his grace back and his (broken) wings, he was far from full power, and he still hasn't quite reached the level he had been at before Metatron cast the angels out of Heaven, but he was one of the lucky ones he guessed. He could use his wings currently, even if it nearly wiped him out of energy each time, but still. It could prove useful, especially being near the Winchesters, who always seemed to attract trouble. It was definitely useful at this moment as well.

The angel reappeared in a matter of minutes in the spot he had just vacated, knife in hand. It appeared that he returned just as a silent staring contest between the two brothers was coming to an end. Sam was the first to look away, and he admitted defeat, acquiescing to remain at the hospital. Cass handed Dean the knife just as Sam suggested the angel go with him.

A brow rose up at that. Him and an angel working together; now that's a great joke. "Uh, he's staying with you because she'll probably pay you a visit anyway. Plus, there's only one, so it should be easy." Dean moved the knife in his hand, flipping it for a better grip. It was definitely not his weapon, but it would have to do. His eyes went out the window, seeing how the sun was about to set. "Let's get this party going, shall we?" He headed toward the door, but his hand hesitated on the door handle. "Hey, Cass, I need to talk with you real quick."

Cass just followed him out since he understood that it was a command, not an invitation. "What is it, Dean?"

Closing the door so Sam couldn't hear, Dean's gaze grew dangerous. "You stay with Sam, and nothing gets in or out. You hear me, angel? Sam better be in one piece, and you better be in the damn room when I get back. Can you follow those orders?"

Cass looked him over. "Yes."

Dean blinked, but then shrugged. Not even his main people at his camp agreed to orders as swiftly as Cass just did. "You better." He started to head down the hall when he heard the deep voice say.

"Be careful, Dean."

That stopped him in his tracks. No one has said that to him in forever. He glanced over his shoulder at the angel, and he thought he should say something, but instead he just turned back around and left. Cass entered into the room after Dean disappeared down the hall. He wasn't sure what just happened with Dean, other than the fact that he had to protect Sam and couldn't leave or he'd have to face the wrath of an angry older sibling. He took his spot back, and he stared out at the darkening sky. Sam did the same.

They stayed like that for a long time, probably three hours by now. Sam had laid down in the bed, and Cass had leaned forward, placing his hands in his lap. He took his eyes off the window, dragging them to the vacant chair. He'd thought Dean would be back by now. He slowly rose to his feet, and he glanced over to Sam, who looked at him in question. Cass made his way to Sam's bedside, and his blade slipped out of his sleeve.

. . . .

Dean had drove out there, making his way to the creature's - no the Aswang Version 2.0's- trees. It was where they first met the wicked bitch of the forest, so it was the best place to catch up with her. Unless it was with Sam. His hands gripped the steering wheel of the stolen car harder. He didn't want to think about that what if, so he threw it out of his head. He just finished the drive and pulled into the little opening before the trees, keeping the lights on. He kept the car on too, but he stepped outside of the vehicle, shutting the door. It wasn't the comforting thud of the Impala, not by a long shot, but it had a close enough noise he guessed. It's strange how he can be so attached to inanimate objects when he knew none of it mattered and could be lost in a second.

Take his gun for example or even the car. Both of them were gone, and Dean had no idea where they went. Most likely, he'd never see them again. Then, his knife fell during the fight, and it would have been lost too, if Sam didn't see it.

Dean looked around, seeing no Aswang or anything else for that matter. A sickening feeling surfaced. What if it went after Sam? The poor kid would be defenseless. Dean forced his thoughts to the back of his mind like he has done for so long, and his eyes scanned the area. That's just awesome. He went to open the door again when he heard footsteps. His hand stopped in the air as his face faced where the sound was coming from. There he saw the Aswang. He dropped his one hand, pulling out the Bolo knife, and he chanced a step forward. The creature just remained where it was. He switched the knife from one hand to another then back to his right. It still hurt like hell, but he would have to deal with the pain per usual.

"Hey," he began. "Can we make this quick? Cause personally, I'm not in a patient mood." He was never really patient anyway, especially for the likes of this creature.

Speaking of the creature, it just stood there, motionless, and Dean raised a brow at it. He knew that this was a bad idea, but he decided to close the distance at least down to two yards. When his feet were planted, the creature screeched, its limbs stretched and bent so it was on all fours. Dean expected it to rush forward, but that's not what happened. What happened was probably the worst turn of events he could possibly imagine that involved just the creature in front of him. The trees behind the thing began to waver and wind rushed away from where it stood. It screeched again, followed by a chorus of other screeches. Oh shit. This just got ten times harder.

Hundreds of the creature scrambled out of the woods, surrounding the one on all sides, some were in human forms, while others were walking on all fours. So much for quick. He took a step back, body preparing itself for the things to dart forward, which they did in the next moment after a hiss echoed from the crowd. All of them rushed him at the same time; a few of them reached him before the others though, so he merely backed up and lunged at them. He sliced off one, two, and three heads by the time the group was right there. He ducked under claw-like hands, and noises that signaled their attacks seemed to surround him. Somehow he managed to chop off another four or three heads, but then he was picked up and thrown across the road.

He was back up on his feet, running some before spinning around. With that technique, he saw two heads fall and roll across the ground, bouncing slightly when they first fell. A noise howled behind him, so he quickly glanced over his shoulder, judging its distance and speed, and when it got close, he whipped around, severing the neck, and it slowly slid and fell. Only to reveal another creature that took its place as the body flopped to the ground. He braced himself as it smashed into his side, sending him skidding along the road, hitting hard enough to bounce off the side of the road. He barely managed to keep the road within his sight as he pulled himself to his feet.

He heard his bones pop and crack as another thing collided with his back, forcing him straight into the waiting crowd of monsters. He dove forward to try to gank another, but he missed and was sent to his knees on the road a little ways away. His body sagged as he watched them approach. At first, they were slow and seemingly cautious, but then they charged forward. His eyes narrowed more as he attempted to push himself up and found he couldn't move too well. He was going to try to wait it out, and he was going to attack when they were close.

However, he realized the knife was no longer in his hand, and he cursed loudly. He felt around, only coming up with his own blade. This was all he had left, and he didn't even know how many he had left to kill. Well this sure looked like he was going to frigging die here, and if the blood coming from his mouth and dripping off his chin or the rest of the injuries he had had anything to say about his situation, it was very dire. His vision blurred slightly when he finally rose up to his feet.

They were nearly upon him now. Automatically, his hand seized his weapon, resting just the right way as he took a swing at the closest creature. It dropped, but he didn't know if it was for good or if it was temporary. He just kept attacking until he began to feel numb. He was just working through the motions, brain on autopilot. Unfortunately, something collided with him, and he flew, crashing down the hill that led to the water. He rolled himself to his feet, but he was too unstable to move out of the way, so he ended up back into the air, crashing with the water in the next second. He hit the freezing water, and it was like his brain kicked into overdrive. He tore his way to the surface, but he was forced underneath the cold water again.

The cold was creeping into his skin, and the water went into his lungs as he struggled against the weight holding him down. He clawed toward the surface as hard as he could. He wasn't going to die, not like this… He didn't want to die here, yet darkness was claiming his view. Memories flashed through his head. Most of them were current memories or memories that were associated with Sam not being Lucifer's plaything. Dean heard a voice, but he couldn't make it out until a bright light hit his eyes, and he flinched away from it. Eyes adjusting to the dim night with the moon hanging overhead, covered in clouds, he surveyed the area around him. Bodies of the creatures were everywhere he turned, and he was covered in red from almost head to toe. His hand shook slightly as he dropped his knife at what he saw.

. . . .

Cass put the blade in Sam's hand. After telling Sam that he had to stay where he was, he was off to find Dean. He knew Dean would be pissed if he left Sam defenseless against the Aswang, even though he was going to be annoyed with Cass anyway when he found out he was out searching for him and not protecting Sam. Cass could tell that nothing was close to Sam to harm him, and he had the angel blade, so he should be able to hold his own until he got back. He just knew Dean was in deep trouble, but when wasn't he?

Cass had traveled to a deserted road, glancing for any sign of the oldest Winchester brother. He didn't see him, but he was determined to do so, so he teleported to the next turn in the road. There wasn't anything yet, and it had been his fourth road that he searched. He walked past an elderly place, seeing a van that had something about doors and windows, which he briskly continued past. He saw a turn, and then he saw something further up the road. He squinted some as he walked. Still there was no sign of Dean, but he did find body after body of the same creature. All of them were charred for some reason.

"Dean," he shouted out when he saw the car by the trees. He was suddenly down at the bottom of the hill, looking into the car. It was empty. Cass grew worried now, and off to the side, he saw a pale light. He headed toward it and looked at the flames on the body. That would explain why the others were charred. He made his way back up the road. He walked to the other side of the road, and he saw piles of the creatures, so many that would take the angel half the day to calculate. His eyes picked up a figure down a bit further, and it took him a second to realize it was who he was looking for.

He appeared next to Dean, nearly falling, but caught himself just in time. Dean didn't even notice him, which Cass found odd. He discovered that this Dean had almost a sixth sense with stuff like that. It would only take him a few moments to bring his attention to a possible threat. He repeated the Winchester's first name, but he just dropped the knife in his hand, which was shaking, and he was staring straight ahead. Cass followed his gaze, seeing the rows and rows of cars and automobiles in the water, including the Impala. Cass could only guess that all of those were victims.

"Dean, are you alright?" He didn't receive an answer, so he went to stand in front of him. "Dean."

It took some time until Dean's green eyes blinked sluggishly, and his vision came into focus. It flickered around at the cars in the lake then to the angel's face. He dodged the question on his welfare by admitting something. "I think I missed one." He thought he should stand up, but he wasn't certain if he could. He was deadbeat tired, and his head felt like it was exploding. He decided that it was now or never, so he forced his limbs to move, reaching his feet. He swayed dangerously, but Cass didn't attempt to help stabilize him until he fell forward slightly down the hill. Cass caught him and held him upright. Dean didn't seem to notice at first because he just stared at the water riddled with cars. Once he did, however, the angel was roughly shoved off.

Dean swayed again, but he headed toward the road anyway. He was leaning too much for his liking, so Cass was right next to him, no doubt annoying the Winchester, but he'd rather have Dean ticked off then cracking his head open on the pavement. When Dean's shoes hit the road, he stopped suddenly, taking a sharp breath of air. He was trying to hide it, but he was hurt - really hurt. His eyes were closed, body swaying side-to-side. He turned his head over his shoulder, eyes opening to look down the hill another time. "You can't save everyone, my friend," Cass stated.

Dean grunted as he started to walk again, eyes forward now. "I'm not your friend." That finally seemed to get him out of his flunk because he continued with a glare. "What happened to staying with Sam, huh?"

"You were in danger, and he wasn't."

"I don't care what I was." He went to walk down the hill toward the car when his knees gave out. He dropped to his knees, hands outstretched to keep himself from rolling.

Cass walked over. "Dean, I can fix that." He raised his fingers, and he saw Dean's eyes widened just a fraction.

His hand was swatted away as Dean scowled. "Don't." He made it to his feet with a lot of effort; in fact, he was breathing heavier than before. "Be-besides… I deserved it…"

Cass didn't know how he deserved it, but he didn't voice his opinion on it. Instead, he suggested that he take them to the hospital; it would be faster, and since Cass pointed out that Dean would see Sam quicker that way as well, Dean obliged. However, he had a threat. It wasn't big. It just told him that he had to bring them to the hospital or he would "slap a dick." He guessed Dean meant him. Also, there was another threat that involved if Sam was hurt, and it wasn't something he wanted to repeat to anyone. It sounded both painful and complex, and he was okay with remaining in one piece thank you very much.

Cass placed a hand on Dean, who visibly tensed, and in the next moment, they were outside Sam's door. Cass removed his hand immediately after their arrival, stumbling some afterward. Dean didn't notice, and he also took no time in heading inside to see if his brother was okay and if he needed to pluck some feathers off an angel. He first noticed how dark it was, and he was instantly more alert. His eyes scanned the room, landing on the bed. He saw a shadow rise from the bed; it was Sam. Then, his thoughts paused. He didn't even register Cass shutting the door; he didn't even hear the nighttime noises of the hospital or the city below.

All he saw was the angel blade and Sam's shadow. "Hello, Dean," his brother's voice said, but it wasn't Sam. It had never been Sam. Dean stepped back once as Sam's body took a few steps around the bed. "Nice to see you again. Do you remember my promise?" Dean clenched both his teeth and his hands.

He was staring over at the dick controlling Sam's body. He was dressed in white, holding onto a blade that he didn't need. He could simply snap his fingers and make Dean explode. He had seen it done to various people. Sam smiled - Lucifer smiled as the room faded around them, something else replacing it. "It appears you didn't, well nonetheless…" He paused for a second. "I'm glad you're here to enjoy the show."

(Up Next: What A Jolly Good Show)