(Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.)

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 7: Saved by the Bell

. . . .

He had been working on the car for at least two hours by now. Now this was something he could do, even if the car was kind of slanted in a way and still coated with water inside and out. He pulled himself out from underneath the car since he needed a tool, and he opened the passenger front door - more like yanking it open after three tries. He leaned inside, digging under the seat with a slightly irritated expression. You'd think he'd be slightly excited that he got his Baby back, but he was just a little salty about the condition she was in. The frigging creature and the tree totally fucked it up, but that didn't mean he was going to let this one rot.

He was about to move his upper body out of the car when a figure to his right startled him, causing the back of his head to clip the roof of the car. He grunted, drawing up his hand to rub the injury, while he stepped back from the car. "Dammit Cass. Say something next time would you?"

"I'm sorry…?" The angel's eyes followed as Dean walked around the back of the car, purposely not going to the front, where Cass was standing.

Dean climbed into the front seat, leaving the door wide open. He was glad that he had fallen into the lake earlier because when he sat down on the upholstery, water ran along the seat to the floor. The Winchester brought up his hands to the keys, which were still in the ignition, and he turned it. It started, somewhat. It was running like crap, but could you blame her? She had spent at least one night in the lake, not fully submerged but still. "It's alive," he smirked over at the angel, who was currently near the driver's side fender.

Cass turned his head to the side.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Not literally, Cass." The car spit out, sputtered, and then died. He looked into the back seat then he paused, and while he did that, Cass waited. "Hey angel," Dean had pulled himself over the seat then came back to settle in the front seat. "Want sushi?" He had a dead fish in his hand, and he made it wiggle some before he threw it at the angel, who simply let it fly past him.

The angel made a face. "If you have forgotten, I-"

"Yeah, angels don't eat, I know." Dean got out of the car. "How could I forget that?" Another master eyeroll came from him, and he was at the back of the car, lifting the already opened trunk, spying the dent that his arm had left in it. Without another look at that, he placed his arm into a small hole along its side. He wondered if he could find anything there, and something skittered over his fingertips. It was cool and hard, and Dean smirked momentarily. He grabbed hold of the object and pulled it out, revealing a beer bottle that didn't seem to be affected by the crash. He popped off the top, flinging it with the weapons, and let him tell you that it wasn't the only thing that popped either.

He rolled his shoulder a bit, and he put his head back as he let the liquid roll on his tongue. It wasn't bad actually. He caught Cass staring again, raising a questioning brow at him. In response, the angel asked. "You're drinking at eight in the morning?"

"Yeah, so?" He held the bottle level with his hip as he leaned against the back of the car. Before Cass could ask why, Dean admitted. "I always drink, Cass… Okay, so it's probably worse than before but still." Worse than before was saying it lightly. It was most definitely the worst he has been with drinking since ever because if he saw any alcohol, he drank it. It wasn't exactly common, so he wouldn't let those things go to waste, so his habit was pretty bad now if he could get his hands on any alcoholic beverage. He swirled the amber liquid, staring into it for a second before he downed the rest of it. Also, the apocalypse and him didn't get along very well. He slipped his hand inside the hole again, remembering once he tried this before, but he could never make it work when he was younger. Apparently this Dean figured it out fairly good, considering it had managed to survive both the attacks and his driving.

He pulled out another one just as Cass offered him something. It was his knife; the angel was deliberate and slow in his movements as he held the blade, offering the handle to him. Dean merely grabbed hold of it and pried the top off the bottle, flicking the top into the nest of weapons and whatever else was in the trunk.

He didn't miss the angel's face when he pried off the cap, so he asked. "What's with the face?"

Cass paused, choosing his words before answering. "It seems to be important, and I don't think it's wise to treat it like that. You might hurt or damage it."

"Now who's giving inanimate objects feelings?" He placed the knife in the back of his pants, pulling his shirt over it to conceal it. "Cause I don't think the damn thing cares how I use it." He walked around the angel to reach the driver's door, picking up his black jacket that lay between the two front seats in order to quickly clean off his hands; he also drank his beer real fast, managing to get it down halfway before Cass' voice continued.

"Dean, that weapon isn't man made, and it is no surprise that it's in your hand."

He turned over his shoulder, eyes narrowing some. "There's nothing 'important' about this; it was just something that I found inside an old, abandoned farmhouse." He dropped the jacket back on the seat.

"Something wanted you to find that Dean."

"Nothing wanted me to find it. It was just there, capiche?" Actually now that he thought about it, that's where he found Chuck for an odd reason, but he had been unconscious when he discovered the house. However, that seemed insignificant to him, so he shrugged it off. "You really need to stop preaching about something that never happened. It was just a thing that saved my ass, that's it." He gritted his teeth, dropping to his knees, then his side, and then his back on the ground so he could crawl underneath the car. Suddenly, he flew across the pavement and out from under the car by hands that were at his ankles, and his eyes locked with the blue ones above him.

"If you just look at it, you could tell-"

"Tell what, huh?" Dean used the car to help himself to his feet, never taking his gaze away from the other's. "That's it's just some metal, and some loony angel refuses to believe the truth?"

At loony, the blue eyes seemed to narrow a bit more. "You're the one that refuses to look at it. Anyone could see that it's well crafted, much better than a human could have-"

"Oh now you're badmouthing humans?" Dean's gaze and his voice chilled instantly.

"No," the angel made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sigh. "I'm trying to explain that it resembles more of an angel blade's construction than anything else."

Dean a raised brow at that.

"It just doesn't look like one, though," Cass added. "The weapon has been altered as time passed."

Both of them stared silently at one another until Dean turned away, glancing over the other cars further away. "Alright, let's say the thing is actually important. What is it then?" He looked back at Cass, who remained looking his way. That was another thing he wouldn't be able to get used to.

The angel frowned faintly. "I'm not sure honestly."

"Great," the Winchester breathed out through his teeth, leaning against the car two feet away from Cass. "I guess we know the thing is stronger than a Bolo knife, right?" Cass was still deep in thought, so Dean hit him in the shoulder to gain his attention. "If you're going to think so much, get your ass out of the way."

The angel obediently moved to the side as Dean headed toward the front door, reclaiming his seat behind the wheel to try to restart the old girl. It didn't turn over, but man did she want to, Dean could practically feel it. He was about to check under the hood when he coughed into his hand, red pooling in his palm. He grunted once, wiping it off on his jeans. The angel said his name, but Dean ignored him.

"Alright," he said to himself as he managed to pop open the hood, pushing it up so he could have a look at it. His eyes trailed over the engine, along with all its parts and wires. "Well aren't you going to be a pain in my ass." He leaned over, picking up a clump of wires that were basically hanging together by threads. He released it just as Cass came to stand next to him. "You know anything about cars yet?"

Cass didn't have to answer; Dean already knew his reply. The fact was that Cass didn't know anything about cars, even the older ones. The newer ones were a different story. From what Dean has seen passing by or at the gas station the other day, there were all plastic and computerized or whatever, like he could possibly fix those damn things. "I haven't had the opportunity to learn." The angel told him.

"So… You don't have any free time?" A headshake was his response. "Hmph, tough life huh?" He teased lightly, but toward the end of the question his joking edge to his voice was gone. He stared blankly at the wires for a moment until he blinked and looked over his shoulder. "Heya Sammy."

Sam approached them, stopping to stand to Dean's other side, which happened to be his (Dean's) left. "Wow," was all that came out of his little brother's mouth.

Dean flicked a leaf off the grill. "Yeah, she definitely needs some tlc."

"Some?"

A small grin surfaced on the older brother's face. "Come on Sam, she's still a beauty and you know it."

"Yeah, right." Sam placed a hand along the headlights, which were crushed. "What does it need?"

"A lotta crap that's what…" Dean then smirked. "But to make her purr today, there's a few things you need to get."

"It sounds like you're selling something."

"Yup, and what you win is a free shopping trip. It's time for you to go shopping there, Sam." Sam's face was priceless, and it was something only Sam could pull off. The Devil - He stopped himself and said aloud. "Don't worry, I'll tell you what you need to get." After he gave Sam the list, he sent him off on his merry way. "Follow the yellowbrick road, Sammy."

Sam rolled his eyes when he walked away. "Yeah sure thing," he called over his shoulder. After Sam left, Dean looked back at the car, figuring out what else it might need, while Cass just watched. The angel was confused as to how Dean could switch moods so suddenly. It was like a light switch at times; of course the other Dean did that too, but this one was more dramatic about it and did it more often.

"Can you stop? Trying to concentrate." Speaking of the random flips of personality.

Cass noticed how Dean was starting to get more irritated and tense. He decided that it was best to disappear, so he did. He teleported right out of there, leaving the Winchester to his own devices.

. . . .

Dean had felt when Cass had left, and he immediately relaxed a bit. Without the prying eyes of an angel, he got to work, knocking out the dents with one of the many weapons they had in the trunk. It didn't look all too pretty, but it sure beat what it was when he got it back. He also tightened anything that needed it, but since the Impala mostly had weapons, it wasn't exactly a walk on a beach. It took some finagling, using items that were poor substitutes for the real thing, but he managed to fix some of it. Currently, he was coming out from underneath the car to look for a small object that would fit where he required it.

Unfortunately, when his eyes looked out the other side of the car after he found something that would work, he jumped, smashing his knee against the side of the car and hitting his shoulder off the inside roof. He glared. "Dammit Cass, you need a bell or something if we decide to keep you around." He didn't bother to look at him again as he climbed under the car once more. He wondered how long it would take Sam to find the things he needed, realizing that maybe he should have went himself. It would have been easier for both of them, and it would have been less… stressful.

As a prime example, even though he didn't see those eyes on him, he could frigging sense them, and it was driving him up a fucking wall. Then the feeling left him, but that didn't mean Cass left him. He could feel his presence nearby. He could have rolled his eyes, but he began to tinker instead, attempting to ignore him. After some time though, Dean's thoughts wandered back to the angel and his relationship with Sam. His brother had seemed happy to see the angel when he woke up, and Cass had called Dean his "friend." It didn't take a complete genius to figure out that the angel seemed to be at least on alright terms with the Winchester boys, but Dean couldn't rely on hunches and emotions. Yeah, Sam was happy, so what? Dean would rather he be alive and safe than in danger and joyful.

However, he understood that he - himself- was dangerous toward Sam, so he wasn't sure what to do. He could just leave, but knowing Sammy, he'd try to track him down. He didn't want that. He could stay and mind himself a bit more, but then Sam would be wary of his actions and would therefore ask questions that Dean couldn't answer. Next, his mind rolled over to land on the knowledge that Cass had saved his brother, but that was once out of how many? Not too many for Dean to count, that's what. He sighed, jamming the object in his hand upward to dislodge something from the lake that got stuck in his car.

It was plain and simple; he didn't know what to do. Should he trust the angel? Should he trust himself alone with Sam? Should he stay or should he leave? He couldn't determine what would be the best course of action, so he shook his head, and - Splash! Water exploded all over him as the thing trapped inside the underbelly of the car came loose. He coughed, scrambling out from under the car. He continued choking on water, body shaking a bit as the coughing persisted. Soon it ended, and he waited to catch his breath. His eyes opened as his chest expansion started to slow down some, and he leaned his full weight onto the side of the car. He suddenly remembered being forced down in the lake by a creature, but instead of reaching the surface, he began to sink, further and further down. He shook his head to rid himself of the visual.

Relax, his brain instructed. He made it didn't he? So why did it matter what he was remembering or what he couldn't? He should be used to that now. He felt the car underneath his fingers and followed what he was told to do from his brain. He relaxed and opened his eyes, staring at the glossy black of the Impala.

"Dean," a voice reached his ears. "Is everything okay?" It was Cass.

Dean's body did the opposite of what his voice said. He ended up shaking his head as he said everything was super; his eyes stung some, but he refused to let anything come of it, and he was with an angel, so he definitely choked it down. He needed another beer or perhaps something stronger would be better, but he did know where to get one of those things. He made his way to the back, opening the trunk, which he managed to fix enough that it could be shut. He fished around for another beer, but it seemed that there wasn't any left. Well this blows… He was about to give up when something pricked his hand. He pulled it out; it was a broken bottle, but it still had some alcohol in it. "Yahtzee." He mumbled out.

He heard Cass say something about… Actually, he couldn't remember. It had went in one ear and out another as soon as it came. Instead he told Cass to check on Sam, well it was more like an order really. He saw the angel hesitate and almost look ready to argue, but instead he disappeared. Honestly, Dean was kind of grateful, but of course he would never admit it. He stared at the bottle as he thought, then suddenly he whipped it across the ground, making the glass shatter apart. Everything was so fucked up in his life, even more so now. He'd been to a future with another apocalypse, courtesy of Zachariah, and he tried to save his time, but it seemed he just messed things up, even worse than before.

He thought he had tried everything to make it right, but he was wrong. How wrong he must be if there was a possible future with Lucifer out of the way, and he didn't make that his future or Sam's; Sam deserved better than being the Devil's puppet. His little brother should have this life, not the shithole that Dean created. He was the one that started breaking the seals, well he broke the one that got the show on the road, and Sam was the one that accidently released Lucifer. Yeah, Sam made a mistake and that cost the world, but Dean was the one that snapped. He broke, and everything followed suit. He slumped against the side of the car.

He couldn't let himself ruin this future for his baby brother. He finally decided what he wanted to do. He wasn't going to like it, but… It didn't matter what he liked or not. That was life in the apocalypse for you. You had to do the unthinkable during tough times; it wasn't even comparable to the death and killings of monsters, that made actual sense to the Winchester. Sometimes he did things he wished he would never do again, but then the next time a similar situation arises, he had to do it another time, and another. It didn't matter what he wanted; he had to get the job done, and this one made enough sense to suffer the discomfort or even to die for.

It was about time something made sense again.

. . . .

Cass had left Dean alone without arguing because he knew he had to be in good graces - no pun intended- with Dean before they talked about his problems. Sometimes he had to hold back what he wanted to do and what he wanted to say, for both Dean and Sam. It was extremely unpleasant at times, but he could deal with it for a bit if needed, and yes, it was needed very much. He found Sam, who was checking out of the autoparts store, carrying four bags filled with various parts that Dean had mentioned, which had gone over the angel's head. "Hello Sam," he greeted easily.

"Hey Cass, can you lend me a hand?"

"Of course," he said, walking forward to grab a few bags, which were heavier than the angel expected, but since he was an angel, it didn't affect him really. It would probably be slightly difficult for a human though.

"Thanks man." Sam let out a sigh of relief, adjusting the bags in his hands for a better position. Cass nodded once, while the younger Winchester began to walk back toward the hospital. "We should head back." Sam said aloud, eyes searching the skies overhead, blue darkening as the sun began to drop. It would be dark most likely in two hours or so.

"I could bring us there, if you want."

"Nah," he started. "I'm just gonna walk over." People have to realize that he had been trapped in a hospital bed for a long time at least when it involved the Winchesters; they didn't really stay in one place, especially somewhere like a hospital, unless it was needed.

"Alright, mind if I take this back to Dean?"

"Oh, yeah, sure thing, Cass." Sam handed all of the bags over to the angel, who silently took them, and Cass gave a nod. With that, the angel walked off swiftly, presumably to his older brother. His thoughts drifted to Dean, and he instantly frowned. He had no idea what was going on with him, and Dean refused to talk to him, so that would never end well. It was like when Dad died… His brother had shut off, responding he was just fine, but everyone knew he wasn't, especially Sam. Sam hoped nothing as bad as that had happened. Had he missed something perhaps?

Cass suddenly appeared next to Sam in the next moment, and he told him that Dean had the parts. Without another word, he fell in line with Sam, who also remained quietly walking.

. . . .

Okay, so maybe he didn't need to snap at Cass as soon as he showed up and Dean saw him, but Dean was still coming to terms with what he had decided. He wanted to play it in his mind, wishing some other thing came up, but unfortunately, this was the best solution at the moment. Like he discovered, his little brother's safety was all that mattered, so he shoved down his concerns and feelings, locking it behind yet another wall placed up to hide the troubling or disturbing events. He just hoped it was right after all. He finished placing the parts on the car, and his gaze paused on the sunset to the west.

It was now or never; he climbed into the front seat, turning the key, and it started up, sounding like dog crap, but running nonetheless, so it was better than nothing. He was just getting her up and running so they could make it home. He was out of the car after he noticed something poking out from underneath the seat. He grabbed hold of it and slid it out into the open. He studied it, concluding that it was his gun, so he twirled it around his finger then put it in its holder. Before the apocalypse happened, Dean rarely used weapon holsters, but when times change, sometimes so don't you - not always for the better (or worse) either.

While he made sure the gun was in its place, he didn't realize the eyes on him until he glanced up, and he jumped, scowling. "Come on, seriously angel?" He snapped, "Speak up will you?" He apologized to Dean, who rolled his eyes. "Mhm, sure."

Cass was located on the other side of the car, staring for a bit. Then, the famous head tilt, eye squint combo appeared. "Do you think it… She," he corrected slowly. "Will make it back to Kansas?"

"Well, she's gonna have to." Dean shrugged. "Might as well give her a run and see." He went to get in, but he hesitated. "Hey, uh, Cass?" He didn't continue for a full thirty seconds. "Here."

An object flew at him, and Cass immediately picked it out of the air effortlessly, turning both his head and his hand so it could be examined. "What's this?" His voice stopped when Dean asked what he thought it was. "It's… A… Oh…" He realized something, but wasn't sure if he was getting the right cues.

"Just shut up, Cass, and take it." Dean stated, slight annoyance creeping into his statement, but there wasn't as much of his bite as before when he said the angel's name.

A small smile etched itself onto Cass' face.

Dean tried to ignore the expression, but his eyes kept flickering over at him. "What?"

"You called me Cass."

He made a face. "Yeah, so? I've done that before."

"Not like you just did," the angel pointed out, hand tightening around the object slightly.

"Do you want me to call you something else? Cause, I'll be happy to call you a dick."

Cass let out a sigh. "I'd prefer if you didn't-"

"Oh wait, I'll call you a feathery chicken." He said playfully.

Cass narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Because I can, that's why." A smirk came to the older Winchester brother's face. "Come on, Castiel, lighten up, will ya?" He purposely used the angel's full name, receiving another head tilt. Dean sighed out. "Still with a stick up your ass I see…" Whatever. Dean ran a hand through his hair, turning back to the car for some reason that Cass didn't catch because he did something else instead.

The angel opened his hand, gaze tracing the bell before him.

(Next: Down With the Wicked Bitch of the West)