A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks for reading. It is immensely appreciated. So… we have a weird, and kind of complicated plotline starting. Please bear with me. CarverEdlundtheLast: Glad you enjoyed. Yeah, I think Michael just learned the same lesson as that social worker: Do not threaten Dean while he has a gun in his hand. It is not likely to end well. This should be put on billboards across the country. Well, if the season premier is what you're worried about…you should be seeing Cas and the Winchesters together quite soon. ;) Spoilers!
I do not own Supernatural or its characters.
Chapter 27: Previously on Supernatural
The bullet Dean had fired zipped through the air where Michael had been, narrowly missing a man sitting at a table in the next room and burying itself in the far wall. The far wall… that was significantly farther than it had been a second ago.
"SON OF A BITCH! What the freaking hell was that?!" The man had jumped up as the bullet flew an inch in front of his face, yelling the aforementioned curse and glancing furiously at everything before pulling out a pistol from his jeans and stalking over to the doorway, aiming and glaring at Dean with an angry pout, "Who the hell are you?"
Dean straightened his gun and matched his glare, determined not to be outdone, "Who the hell are you?"
"I asked first."
"Not telling, douchebag." He considered sticking out his tongue, but decided that was overkill, and not very action-hero-like. Thankfully, Sammy was hanging back, staying behind him clutching the back of his shirt.
"How did you get in here?"
"None of your business."
"It's damn well my business! This is my freaking house and you tried to freaking shoot me!"
"Hey! Kids present!"
"You're no kid. I don't know what you are, but no way you're a kid. So WHAT ARE YOU?"
Dean heard running, and a second later another man appeared, even bigger and scarier-looking than the first, and also carrying a gun, "I heard yelling. What's going on?"
"These things got into the bunker somehow. Thought it would be cute to try and shoot my damn head off."
The tall man looked at Sam and Dean, then awkwardly turned back to the other man, "Did they?"
"Did they what?"
"Shoot your head off."
The shorter one rolled his eyes and glared at the other one, "Do I look freaking dead?!" His tone turned incredibly sarcastic, "What do you think happened, I just grew a new one and came back to life?"
The tall one looked uncomfortable, "Wouldn't be the first time."
There was a pause, "Shut up."
A voice whimpered from behind Dean, "Dee, I scawed."
Dean didn't look away from the arguing enemy, "It's okay, Sammy. You just stay right there. No one's gonna hurt you. Close your eyes."
At that the two men stopped arguing and turned to stare at Dean. The shorter one spoke, "What did you say?"
Dean felt very afraid, but tried very hard not to show it, instead yelling, "Didn't talk to you!"
The shorter one stalked toward him, looming more terrifying with each step, "Hey, hey. It's okay."
"Get away from me!" Dean had tears in his eyes by now, and was trembling a little in abject terror of the man in front of him.
Sam, having finally summoned sufficient courage, peeked around Dean, his eyes widening at what he saw. It was them, from his dreams. He was uncertain how they had gotten big and real, but it didn't really matter. He smiled. He remembered this Dean. A big, scary, violent mental wreck, but still the same Dean he already knew. He was glad to see him.
Dean stared in horror as Sam ran toward the scary man with outstretched arms, "Sammy, no!" He wanted to reach out and pull him back, protect him from this threat and yell at him later for putting himself in danger, but he had to focus on his aim. Hopefully the threat of getting shot would dissuade the man from any thoughts he might have of hurting the child.
Sammy stopped in front of the man, looking up at him quizzically as he spoke, "Dee?" A smile spread over his face and he held up his arms, asking to be held. Dean almost dropped his gun in shock. Sammy never wanted anyone else, even Daddy's attempts at carrying Sam were met with screams and frightened cries for Dean. Yet the toddler seemed to have taken an instant liking for this blond stranger, and Dean really wasn't sure how he felt about this turn of events.
The man dropped to a crouch in front of Sam, a smile flitting over his features as his grip relaxed to dangle the pistol uselessly from his fingers. "Hey, kid. Uh, can you tell me your name? Sorry, just need some confirmation." Sam dropped his arms, seemingly disappointed in the result of his request.
"Don't tell him anything!" Sammy turned back to look at the panicked boy wide-eyed, before turning back at the man. Jerk. Probably wasn't even human. Sam slowly nodded. The traitor. Dean quickly glanced to check. Yep, the tall one was also watching intently, staying well back in the doorway leading to the library.
"Can you tell me what it is?"
"Sammy," The babyish voice replied.
Dean decided this had gone quite far enouph. A distraction was in order. "Hey, dick! You human?"
The man inclined his head toward Dean, never taking his eyes off the toddler, "That your brother?"
Sam nodded.
"Seems like kind of a jerk." A low chuckle emitted from the tall one in the doorway, and Dean sent him a poisonous look. Sam grinned and nodded.
"Okay, here's a toughie. Your last name? You know that one?"
That was enouph. Obviously this guy was going to get all the answers he wanted, and he may as well get them from Dean. Maybe then he would leave his little brother alone, "Winchester, okay? He's Sammy, I'm Dean. I'll tell you what else, our daddy's gonna show up any minute, and then he's gonna whip your ass." Somehow it didn't come out quite as threatening as he had intended, more like desperate pleading. The blond man sent him a sad look, almost… regretful? Then he turned his attention back to Sammy, "Well that's good enouph for me. I don't know how the hell this happened, but… come here, Little Brother. We'll test you out later." What? Now Dean was really confused.
Sam ran gleefully into the man's arms and he stood, holding the smiling toddler close to his chest. He stared at Dean, "Seriously, dude? Come on, lose the gun."
"Put down my brother!" Dean said, panic evident in his voice.
"It's okay, I promise. Sammy'll vouch for me, won't you, Sammy?" The two-year-old sighed, burying his face in the man's shoulder. He looked up with a done expression, "Typical. Sam!"
The man in the corner at last showed signs of life, "What?"
"Tell me not to be an idiot, please. Make me lose the gun."
"How am I supposed to do that?"
"I don't know! Figure it out!" He walked off to some other part of the building, disappearing through the library, talking to Sammy all the while. The tall one sighed, pushing himself off the doorframe he had been leaning against. "So, uh, hi. Look, I know this is hard to grasp, and uh, you've never been the best at listening, but uh… oh crap, this is gonna sound weird." He sighed. "Look, I don't know how to say this so I'm just gonna say it. We think you're in the future. I'm Sam. That man that just left, well… That was Dean. That was you."
The gun faltered, "You're Sam?"
The man nodded.
"Prove it."
"Okay." He thought for a second, probably trying to determine how much Dean knew. "Our parents' names are John and Mary. You were born January 24, 1979. I was born May 2, 1983. Dad's a hunter. He means well and he loves us both, but he isn't around much and he isn't always the nicest to you."
"More." So far all he had gotten were facts and dates. He was going to need a hell of a lot more than that to accept this adult as Sammy.
"Um… You're the one who raised me, not Dad. Hey, uh, you used to read to me out of that book, uh, "Knights of the Round Table" or something. You borrowed it from our room at Bobby's. We called him Uncle Bobby, by the way. You gave up everything for me. Hell, there were more than a few times where you went hungry to make sure I ate."
Dean stared at him. It was far too much information to ignore. Still… "What happened to you?"
Sam gave an odd little head tilt, "I grew up."
Dean had known he himself would, of course, someday. But that had always been so far in the distant future that he hadn't really considered it much. And Sammy growing up… the thought had never occurred to him. Moreover, time travel? The whole notion was preposterous. However, those were definitely his baby brother's puppy dog eyes staring out at him, begging for belief. The pistol finally lowered.
"Sammy?"
The man smiled, familiar dimples revealing themselves, "Yeah."
