A/N: I think I'll add two more chapters after this one. There is still more of the story to be told. And I can't sum it up in one chapter. So, here we go! Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
The other Dean slammed his fist against the jaw of one of the few monsters remaining. There was a sickening snap and the monster screamed in agony. It fell to the pavement and scurried away, slipping on what snow remained. Dean watched it run, sweat beading down his face and his chest heaving. He'd run out of bullets a few hours ago, but he'd managed to still kick ass.
He turned and saw Castiel uppercut the lizard monster Dean had seen before. Its tongue was severed in half as its lower jaw slammed into his upper, driving his teeth into his brain. The lizard-like creature fell with a squelch, blood oozing from its face. The angel hadn't broken a sweat, but he was breathing heavily.
"You alright, Cas?" Dean asked. When Castiel faced him, a shiver rushed down Dean's spine. His blue eyes alight with the fire of battle, Cas looked exactly how an avenging angel should appear: bloody, deadly, and victorious. "I should be asking you that question, Dean," Cas said.
Before the angel could move to heal him, Dean shook his head and took a step back. Cas tilted his head, slightly confused, until he noticed the glow emanating from beneath Dean's shirt. The ghostly green light was slowly creeping up the hunter's neck like the lava filled crevices of an erupting underwater volcano.
Dean clenched his jaw so hard it sent a sharp jolt through the nerves of his teeth. "It's the virus I told you about. Since I'm back in my own world, the portion of it that entered my body when it exploded is responding," he explained in a strained voice, "The rift must be nearby; she holds the other half of the virus." Seeing that Castiel was confused, Dean sighed heavily.
"See," he began, "the huntress that I mentioned...she was the rift's first vessel. Charlie, she...she told me that if someone didn't absorb the virus, everything and everyone would have gone mad. Like Croatoan, man. I thought that, if I could save the people that mean the most to me and the world at the same time, I was all for dying. That's why I made sure that Cas and Sam were far away from me when we faced the rift.
"I was so damn stupid. Talking to that...that thing did nothing. The virus still spread and my family suffered. And to make shit even worse, I wasn't there. I put myself in that situation, without even telling them what I'd done. They still think that I died an honorable death. But it wasn't! I was an idiot and-" his words cut off abruptly as Castiel took Dean's face between his palms.
His eyes were hard and intense. "You are not to blame. You did everything that you could for your family. Even if it didn't work out the way you wanted it to, you still tried. That's all that matters. Dean," he continued in a more gentler tone, "there is still time to fix things. The rift is here and you're back. You can defeat her and be with the ones you love."
Dean stared at the angel, a buzzing feeling rising in his chest. Then, to Castiel's utter shock, he leaned forward and lightly pressed a kiss to the corner of the angel's mouth. Cas spluttered and his hands fell from Dean's face. The hunter smirked in amusement and his green eyes danced with an almost mischievous glow.
"You really are an angel," he said. Through his foggy thoughts of embarrassment, Cas could hear the renewed courage and determination in the other Dean's voice. He watched the man turn and take in their surroundings with his shoulders set and his head held high; Dean was back from his near emotional breakdown and had returned to his hunter persona.
"I recognize where we landed; we're only a few miles from my home. We might be able to make it by midnight, if we hurry," Dean said. He sounded confident and seemed to be more at ease, more in control of himself. Cas smiled, relieved. 'If only it were that easy to talk to my Dean,' he thought. He rolled his eyes a little even as a rush of affection warmed his heart.
"By the way, Castiel," Dean said suddenly. Cas snapped to attention as the hunter turned his head. The smile that lit up Dean's face nearly took Cas' breath away. "Your Dean is lucky to have you. Handsome, wise, smart- hey, that's a deluxe package all on its own. He gets bonus points cause you're an angel," he teased.
Cas tilted his head. "I'm sorry, is that...is that a form of flirtation?" he asked. Dean winked and shook his head, lifting up his hand. The silver ring nestled around his finger glinted in the sun. "No offense, buddy, but I'd rather have my own angel. I'm saying that your Dean is just as lucky a guy as I am to have found you," he said.
Before Castiel could respond, Dean tossed the borrowed gun to the blushing angel. Cas caught it with nimble fingers and clutched it to his chest. His eyes squinted in question. "No use to me anymore. 'Sides, it's not mine," Dean said. He jerked his head in the direction behind him. "Come on, angel, let's get a move on. We don't have time to be standing around out here talking about our feelings," Dean said.
Cas rolled his eyes so hard, he feared they'd pop out of his vessel's skull. "A little too late for that now, don't you think?" he muttered. Dean had just opened his mouth to retort when the nearly inaudible sound of gunshots echoed through the air. Castiel, with his angelic hearing, stood still. His heart thudding faster in his chest.
"Did you hear-?"
"Shhh!"
Dean snapped his mouth shut as Cas took a step forward, ears straining. There was only the patter of dripping snow for a moment then he heard them again. Bang! Bang! Bang! His feet moved on their own, drawn to the noises. Seeing the expression of desperate recognition on the angel's face, the other Dean followed him without a word.
The other Sam, who had fired the shots Cas was following, cursed under his breath as his target- a huge werewolf that looked like it's transformation had ripped through it- dodged them with inhuman speed. Though Sam's hunter instincts were on high alert, he couldn't help but wonder why a werewolf was out during the day. The sun hadn't even set yet and it wasn't a full moon.
His thoughts were interrupted as the wolf lunged. Sam batted it away with one strong and well timed kick to its chest. He was really beginning to regret attacking the horde of creatures. All hell had broken loose when Dean had raised his gun. Like a swarm of pissed off wasps, the monsters lunged at the hunters with snarling snouts and gazes alight with pure fury.
At first, the hunters decided to keep moving as they fought. From what Sam could tell, they had made it to the abandoned train station before the horde surrounded them on all sides. He and Dean fought with everything they had, but the horde seemed to be growing with every monster they struck down. Pretty soon, Sam knew that he and Dean would run out stamina. If that happened, the two might has well have served their heads on a plate.
"Sam!" Dean shouted from where he was wrestling with a harpy. The bird-like creature screeched and clawed at the hunter beneath it with ruthless anger. As Sam hurried to the rescue, he noticed something about the monsters; while their movements were deadly, they were also clumsy and focused on brute strength rather than precision.
If he didn't know any better, Sam could almost believe that the monsters...were being forced to fight. As though they were being controlled by some unseen force. As he punched the harpy away, Sam briefly made eye contact. Underlying the rage, Sam could see fear and a silent plea for help. The harpy's eyes rolled back into its head and it fell to the ground with a thud.
"Dean," Sam said, helping the hunter to his feet, "I think there's something wrong with them." Dean snorted and dusted himself off. "'Course there's something wrong with them; they're fucking monsters," he huffed. Sam shook his head and neatly sliced a large gash across a leaping goblin's chest with his machete. It gurgled out a cry and landed in a heap at Sam's feet.
Dean grunted as he slit open a Minotaur's stomach with a borrowed knife. The low bellow the bull-man creature groaned as its intestines spilled out onto the ground nearly drowned out Dean's previous reply. Sam's nose scrunched up in disgust. "Really look at them, Dean. They don't want to fight us. Something is forcing them to," he said as he kicked a rabid gnome's head clean off.
Dean frowned and took a second to really pay attention as a banshee lumbered towards him. The monster seemed slow and, when it coiled to spring at him, Dean noticed that the movements were reluctant and strained. Instead of killing the banshee, he punched it hard enough to knock it unconscious.
Breathing heavily, Dean back up until he and Sam were back to back. "You're right. How the hell am I supposed to fight these things when I can't kill them, Sam?" he said exasperatedly. Then came a sickening crunching noise from close-by. When the brothers turned to look, both immediately wished they hadn't. The werewolf that had dodged Sam's bullets had pinned an elf to the train tracks.
Its teeth, stained with blood, gnawed at the helpless creature's skull. The yellow of the werewolf's eyes seemed mucky with a glowing green light. Abruptly, the wolf howled in agony before exploding in a burst of blood and guts. Sam and Dean both yelled in alarm as they quickly recoiled. Everything went silent.
The monsters, who had been circling around the hunters, froze and stared at the gory scene. The Winchesters, too, stood and stared with twin grossed out expressions. "Holy shit," Dean breathed, "How the hell did that happen?" He looked over at Sam expectantly, but he was taken aback at the horrified recognition on the tall man's face.
"Sam?"
"I think I know what it is,"
Sam spoke so softly that Dean had to lean forward to hear him. The monsters slowly began to back away, fear breaking through the blind fury. Sam had begun to tremble, his hazel eyes wide and his pupils blown. Concerned and slightly freaked out, Dean reached out a hand and placed it on Sam's shoulder. When he jumped at Dean's touch, the hunter narrowed his eyes. "Dude, what?" he asked.
Sam took in a shuddering breath. "It's the virus, Dean. The one that the huntress released," he said in a hushed tone, "I've seen that happen before...to a vampire. But when my brother died, the effects of the virus were gradually diminishing until it eventually stopped all together. I don't know why I didn't realize it before. When the vial shattered, Dean and the huntress were right in its path. They both absorbed it."
Dean's brow furrowed as he tried to catch on to what Sam was hinting. Thankfully, Sam noticed his internal struggle. "The only way that the virus can respond is if both halves of it are active. The huntress must be the one who took Cas," he explained. Dean nodded then realization dawned on him.
"If she's alive, then that must mean that...your brother...," he said. Sam nodded and gripped at Dean's arms tightly. Tears brimmed in his eyes and a shaky, hopeful smile twitched up his lips. "Yeah. My Dean must be here. He's alive," he whispered. He said the word 'alive' as thought it were something sacred.
Seeing Sam getting emotional over his brother's possible resurrection made Dean wonder if his own Sam would react the same way. "Let's go find him then," he blurted. Sam blinked in surprise. Dean wished the other Sam would stop doing that; Dean figured that he should have earned at least a little trust from this guy.
He was about to say something else when Sam hugged him so tightly, the breath gushing out of his chest like a deflating balloon. "Thank you," Sam whispered. The sincerity of Sam's words made Dean's own eyes fill with tears. 'Seriously, what is it about this damn dimension that makes me cry so much? I'm like a damn chick,' he thought.
Dean hugged Sam back then pulled away, patting the taller brother on the back. "Alright, alright. Enough sappy crap. We've got work to do," he said. He glanced around the railways and saw that all but one monster had fled. The remaining creature- a small nymph- was kneeling beside the fallen elf. It had the crushed head of the elf cradled in its lap and was slowly rocking back and forth.
Both Sam and Dean felt a stab of guilt and sympathy for the poor thing. As they walked past, Sam paused and the nymph looked up at him with wet pupil-less blue orbs. To describe the heartbreak in those eyes would be impossible. "I'm sorry," Sam said to the nymph softly. The creature was so miserable that it didn't even register the surprise it felt at the hunter's words.
It simply nodded and bent its head back over its fallen friend. Sam sighed and continued walking, looking back for a moment at the little mourning session with a heavy heart. "Winchesters." The two men turned in surprise at the wispy elegant voice that called out to them. The nymph, its lower lip trembling slightly, was looking at them with a sorrowful expression.
"End this," it said. Its voice sounded like the roaring of a waterfall mixed with the gentle rustling of leaves in a spring breeze. Sam and Dean each sent the nymph a nod of promise. The nymph stared at them for a moment, its eyes flickering with angst and a fierce desire for vengence . Although it was deathly afraid of the hunters, the nymph knew that only these humans could stand against the evil that caused her friend's demise.
When it looked back down at the fallen elf, Dean gently nudged Sam's shoulder and they trudged onward. The nymph's words echoed in their minds. "We'll go to the warehouse. It's not too far from here. Even if the huntress didn't take Cas there, we might find some sort of clue that could help find their location," Sam said, trying to distract himself.
Dean nodded, silently staring at the stretch of gravelly road in front of him. Sam continued speaking, explaining how it would only take them a few hours to reach the warehouse if they took this path or this road. Dean was only half listening. His focus was delved in his mind.
The nymph with the elf had planted an image- an image that caused uncomfortable pinpricks of pain in his chest. The image was Dean in the nymph's position, but instead of the elf in his arms, it was the angel Castiel. It reminded the hunter that his Cas was here in this world with him. Since gaining consciousness, a strong tugging sensation pulsed in Dean's heart.
Before the shock wave had hit, Dean had realized that such sensation was their profound bond reacting to the others presence. Or so he figured. Though he kept his mouth shut, Dean couldn't help but feel guilty. While his feet followed after the other Sam, his heart was telling him to go in the opposite direction- to go back to the house.
If Dean had followed his heart, he and Sam might have made it in time to see Castiel and the other Dean arrive. Castiel paused in front of the house and scanned the area around it, eyes squinting in concentration. The other Dean bent over with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. "I feel like an old man. It's been too long since I've ran so much," he panted.
Cas barely glanced at him as the angel took a step forward. His brow furrowed in confusion. "This is your home?" he asked. Dean looked up with a small laugh. "It's been through hell and back, that's for sure. But, yeah, this is it," he said, straightening up. Castiel bit his tongue from commenting how it was physically impossible for a house to go through Hell and back.
Instead, he turned towards the other Dean, who had walked up to stand beside him. His body language suggested that the hunter was just as on guard as Castiel, but his eyes were alight with excitement. After all, his family could be alive and in there waiting for him. Moving with caution, the pair entered the house.
"What the hell...?" Dean muttered. The interior of the home had taken more damage than the exterior. Glass and splintered wood littered the floor, a broken table and chairs lay in heaps next to the torn material of the couch, the lights were out which made the house dark and eerie, and it was freezing. Castiel glanced over at the hunter to find him looking around in fearful dismay.
"Something happened here," Cas said, "Should we check the second floor?" Dean shot off like a rocket up the stairs before the angel could blink. When Cas caught up, he found himself in the same hallway as before. Every detail was the same, except for one thing: Sam's room, the one Cas had found his Dean asleep, was empty.
A rush of panic encased the angel's heart. The other Dean was standing the trashed room Castiel had seen in the dream. His hands were clenched into tight, white-knuckled fists. His shoulders and back were tense and he was shaking. "Dean?" Castiel's call was ignored. He entered the room and looked around. Nothing had changed since he'd last seen it.
"Dean, what-,"
"I didn't want to believe you,"
Castiel's eyes widened at the broken note in the other man's voice. Dean leaned down and picked up what looked like a ripped shirt. His hands were shaking wildly. "I didn't want you to be right. I didn't want to see the truth," he whispered. Castiel got the feeling that Dean wasn't just talking to him.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking. He gripped the shirt in his hands tightly then turned and brushed past Castiel on his way to the hallway. Dean reached the locked bedroom and kicked the door open with one powerful snap of his leg. He went into the room and the door slammed behind him. Cas stood awkwardly, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion.
The angel could hear shuffling and banging from the room. Deciding that he wasn't going to get involved, Cas went back downstairs and explored the house in search of any sign of where his Dean had gone to. There was nothing that stood out and Cas could feel his frustration growing. A burning heat boiled in his belly; that rift had gone too far.
If she had harmed his Dean in any way, he would tear her from her vessel like a fish from the water. To fuel his anger further, his newfound friend was suffering because of what that bitch had done. It was like a triple offense to the angel; the rift had hurt both versions of Castiel's family and had the audacity to want his power. Not to mention that she was sending them on this wild goose chase.
"Hey. Let's go," Dean suddenly said from the stairs. Cas turned to find not the disheveled man he'd been traveling with, but a warrior decked out for the battle of a lifetime. Dean held a Winchester 1897 pump shotgun complete with steel barrel, sawed-off wooden grip and corrugated wooden pump. Attached to his belt in its holster was a Bowie knife, Model 401, with a Texan wood handle.
Dean grinned sheepishly. "Couldn't find anything else. The others must've cleared out the inventory," he said. Cas raised an eyebrow; of course this Dean kept weapons in his bedroom. He shouldn't have been surprised. Clearing his throat, Dean reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a familiar looking gun. Cas' eyes widened in recognition.
It was the same gun the angel had given to Dean during the fight, but this one had two letters engraved into its wood grip. "C.W.?" Cas questioned. A tender smile lit up the other Dean's face as he turned the gun around in his fingers. "Castiel Winchester," he said, "Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" The angel pulled out his Dean's gun from his trenchcoat pocket and looked down at it.
"There was no one else upstairs and I'm guessing that there isn't anyone down here either. We had better get moving. I think I know exactly where they went," Dean said. Cas looked up from the gun and stared at Dean's back as the hunter walked past him. "How do you know?" he asked. They walked out of the house and headed in the direction of the grocery store.
"If I know Sammy, he'd go back to the place where it all began. Smart cookie like him would have figured this," Dean said holding up a piece of paper, "out in no time flat." Castiel grabbed the paper and scanned over it. The other Dean busily loaded his gun and tossed over some ammo, which Cas caught one-handed. "Is this...a riddle?" he asked, loading his Dean's gun with the borrowed ammunition. The other Dean smirked and nodded.
The angel looked up; it was dusk. Though he could not see the moon, he could only assume that it met the requirements of the riddle. "Will we get there in time, Dean?" he asked. The hunter didn't respond and just kept trudging forwards. Castiel understood what the silence meant; Dean was just as worried as he was. All they could do was keep moving and hope that they make it. Before it was too late.
A/N: I already know that this chapter was crappy. I realize that. But this one was only to get the other fill in stuff out of the way. While it is somewhat important, the next chapter will contain a more interesting factor. I deeply apologize for my lame attempt at an update. I will strive to make the next installment a better read.