A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks for reading! CarverEdlundtheLast: Great to hear from you! I'm glad that you liked it! I cried a lot of tears over this chapter, so I am quite happy that my weak attempts at humor were appreciated. After all, to Dean, that isn't his car yet, and to Sam, Dad is just some random guy. He isn't really around enouph for Sam to place any real significance on him, and he also might be just a little jealous, given that Dean talks and does things with John, and to Sam, that is his person. "Just him and Dean and that's it" is essentially the way he sees the world at this point. After all, he almost never sees other people at all. UnknownGirl: Thanks for reviewing! I promise to post frequently. CatstielWinchespurr: Yay! Another of my faithful reviewers has returned! Thank you for commemorating the thirty chapter mark. I can't wait to see where this goes. I have a basic idea, given that I have a timeline on my laptop with all known canon scenes I need to cover, plus some other plots I'm planning to do, as well as some 'current events.' (Berlin Wall, leaking of documents, etc.) Still, there is a lot of space, and I can't wait to write all of it. Thank you so much for your review!

Personal Question: ncsupnatfan, are you all right? I miss you.

I do not own Supernatural or its characters.


Chapter 33: Touched by an Angel


Little Dean and Sam wandered through the Wal-Mart, selecting items and dumping them in the cart. Dean rode in the basket, excitedly staring about at everything. Every so often he would climb out of the cart to run and grab something, returning to inquire its use of the man.

"Hey, Sam, what's this?" The childish voice asked yet again.

Sam glanced down in confusion, "Um, a DVD." He turned his attention back to the cans of vegetables, "Get back in the cart. We need to leave soon."

Dean ignored him, "What's a DVD?"

Sam sighed, "That." Honestly, Dean was being even more annoying than usual.

"Yeah, but what's it do?"

Sam looked back at the child, "Uh, it's like a video. Plays movies."

Dean stared at it, brow knitted in confusion, "How could they fit a whole movie on that?" he shook his head, looking back up, "The future's weird."

Sam chuckled, then his smile vanished as he glanced down the aisle, "We've got company."

It was a woman, standing in the path between the food and clothes aisles. At first glance she looked normal. But on second glance, one noticed other things: her suit was oddly cut, with pads in the shoulders, her hair was permed into a large mop, and she was wearing far too much makeup. She looked like she belonged in an eighties movie, and she was staring straight at them, with an intensity Sam had only ever seen on an angel.

Dean stared, speaking quietly, "What do we do?"

"Run." He grabbed up the child, walking quickly until they were out of the aisle, then he broke into a sprint.

In the background Everybody Wants You by Billy Squier came on the speaker system.


Sam didn't stop until he burst through several "employees only" doors and ran into a store room. Setting the child down, he rushed to close and lock the door. Then, grabbing a file cabinet, he pushed it to form a barricade.

Dean watched him worriedly, "Will that keep her out?"

Sam turned to look at the boy, chest heaving slightly, "Not for long. Might slow her down though."

Feeling his pockets, the man breathed out a curse, "Damn."

"What's wrong?"

He sighed, "I left the angel blade in the car."

Dean was confused, "Angel… is that what she is?"

"Yeah. Sorry." He went back to searching the room, for what Dean wasn't sure.

Dean thought over this new information. Angels. The people hunting him were angels, "But…Mommy said-"

Sam looked up, clearly annoyed, "She was wrong, okay?" He calmed, "Not her fault, she'd been out awhile."

Dean didn't know how much more information he could take, "Out of what?"

Sam looked like he had said something he hadn't meant to, "Nothing." He turned back to his work.

Dean walked after him, "No. What's going on, Sammy? You've both been lying to me ever since I got here. Now what's the deal? Why are there angels after me?"

Sam was silent.

Dean's face fell, "It's that burden, Isn't it? The one Michael talked about. What is it?" No response. Dean grabbed his arm, 'forcing' him to turn and face him. "What is it, Sam?"

Sam couldn't meet his eyes, "It doesn't matter."

"It doesn't matter? What the hell are you talking about? It's my life, of course it matters! You're scaring me, Sammy. What is this?"

Sam started patting down his pockets again as Dean spoke, "Look, we're trying to protect-" He paused, slipping his hand in one of his jacket pockets and withdrawing a small flask, "-You." A light seemed to leap into his eyes, and he rushed over near the far wall, pouring some substance in a circle on the ground. He stopped, rescrewing it and calling to the boy, "Hey. Dean, come here."

The child hesitantly walked over and the big man knelt down, hugging him tightly before pulling away and giving him the flask, "You keep this safe, you hear me? I don't want to see a mark on it when this is over." He had been smiling during that speech, telling Dean the real message, that he was to keep himself alive, no matter what. The flask didn't matter at all. Instead the boy drew himself ramrod straight, uttering a, "Yes, sir."

Suddenly realizing his mistake, Sam opened his mouth to correct it.

Then the door blasted open.


Sam stood up, "Dean, get in the circle."

Staring at the woman in the doorway in fright, the boy did as he was told, then yelped a little in surprise as the man dropped a match on the ground, igniting a ring of flames around him.

"Do not leave that circle." Sam ordered. Dean only nodded, gaping at the fire surrounding him. Sam spoke again, this time to the angel, "So, uh, what's your name then?"

"Well, that is impressive. Holy oil." She sighed, "My name is Ezekiel, if it matters."

The man smiled thinly, "Ezekiel. So, I finally get to meet you in person."

The angel cocked its head, in a manner that reminded Sam of Cas, "At what point…? It doesn't matter. This future does not exist." She twitched one hand, sending Sam flying across the room into a wall, where he slumped down, unconscious.

Dean stared in horror, "NO!"

She held out a hand, "It's all right, Dean. You need to come with me."

Dean trembled, tears rolling down his face, "You hurt Sammy."

"Your brother is well. That," Ezekiel nodded toward the unconscious form, "Is irrelevant. As soon as we leave this future will cease to exist. You will tell me where the child is, and we shall retrieve him, then you will both be safe in heaven's protection."

"But-"

"God has called you to a glorious purpose."

"I just want Sammy to be okay."

"He will be. You can protect him. All you have to do is step out of the flame."

Dean was very frightened now, and very confused, and he just wanted it all to be over. He looked over at Sam. Sam cared about him. Sam had told him to stay inside the circle. This angel wanted him to leave with it and had hurt this version of his brother. "No." He said, his voice quavering.

Ezekiel cocked her head again, "What do you mean?"

"I mean 'no.'" His voice came out a little braver this time.

Her eyes narrowed curiously, "I wonder, how long can you stay in your cage? How long can you hide in this room? There is only one way this can end, Dean, and you will have to come out eventually. And when you do, I will be waiting."

"Yeah, we'll see."


With the angel's disappearance Dean's legs turned to jelly and he started to sob, adrenaline pouring out of him. He drew in a shaky breath, peering at Sam from his curled position on the floor. "Sammy?" As no response came he started to panic. "Sammy?" He said a little louder. To his increased terror the man lay where he was, unresponsive.

Throwing caution aside, Dean raised himself to his feet, running through the flames before collapsing once more and crawling shakily to the adult. Tears were flowing freely down his face as he began to shake him, "Come on Sammy, wake up! Please! Sammy! What am I gonna do? Please." He gave up, rocking back on his knees and crying vocally like a distraught child.

An idea coming into his head, he started to search Sam's pockets. Maybe there would be something in there he could use. He stared curiously as he pulled out a thin piece of metal, glass and dark plastic. What could this be? He turned it over in his hands, trying to discern its use. Finally he spotted some writing on the back, "I-Pho-ne," he sounded out, then stared at it in wonder. This was a phone in the future? How could such things exist?

Deciding that was a question for another time, he began searching for the buttons to dial. Pressing the only one he could find, he nearly dropped the strange device as it lit up, words with some sort of scenery in the background. "Slide… to… un…lock." Accordingly he did as the thing instructed him, to come to a screen of numbers, with no clue which ones to press. Who could he call? How, without knowing the relevant numbers? He hadn't found anything remotely resembling an address book on Sam. Forcing himself to stop sniveling, he randomly started punching in a number, only to be cut off after only four digits. He stared at it, confused. What was wrong with this phone? And a more sobering question, with the angel's parting words echoing through his head, what was he going to do if he couldn't work it?