A/N: Here it is. The chapter you've all been waiting for. Where the action and the story FINALLY comes to its climax. Let's hope it doesn't disappoint. Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
Night had fallen quicker than the heroes thought. The darkness draped across the city and gave way to passages along its shadows. Dean and the other Sam were close to falling right where they stood from fatigue and exhaustion. Since light had faded, their path towards the warehouse had been imperceptible.
Dean gushed out a tired sigh; they'd been walking for hours. Sam had claimed that the warehouse was only a few miles away. They should have been there by now. But he didn't dare question Sam's intuition. He knew that if he did, the same answer would be spouted back at him: "Keep walking, Dean. I never said it would be a short trip."
Dean glared at the back of the other Sam's head. He was acting more and more like his own pain-in-the-ass little brother with each passing moment. Rolling his eyes, Dean tore his gaze away and set his glare instead on strip of railroad track the two were walking on. Apparently, the track led straight into the warehouse, which used to house old trains for repairs.
According to Sam, the building had closed down a few months before the monster apocalypse. Something about a recession. Dean shook his head and gulped as another body came into view. A human body. They had seen another about a mile back, wedged in between two train cars. That one had been what appeared to be an older gentleman- perhaps a conductor.
He'd been nothing but bones and a few bits of rotted flesh, so the corpse's identity was one to be debated. This body, however, still had enough meat to recognize that it had belonged to a young woman. Her long dirtied pink dress was torn down the middle, revealing her opened upper and lower torso's insides.
Dean held his breath as they passed and Sam made a small noise of revulsion in the back of his throat. He lifted his hand and covered his mouth and nose with it. The corpse was impaled on what appeared to be the remains of a track switcher. The woman's foggy, glassy eyes stared up at the Winchesters as they passed.
"That's burned in," Dean groaned, "Could've gone my whole life without seeing that." Sam remained silent, but his step had quickened and was more urgent than before. Dean, who knew his Sam better than anyone, could tell that the corpse had bothered this Sam in the same way. Finding the only other human beings in Portland deceased must have been a real slap of reality.
Sam's shoulders hunched and his hands clenched tighter into fists. Dean was right; Sam was taking it hard. The man and this woman were the icing of the cake for Sam's breaking point. One more thing and Dean was worried he'd have to stop Sam from doing something risky. He was about to reach out to comfort the replica of his younger brother when the taller of the two stopped dead in his tracks.
Dean literally skid to a halt, the heels of his boots causing ruts in the gravel. But before Dean could question why Sam had suddenly stopped, he looked up. They had finally arrived. The building was smaller than he'd expected. Which was odd, considering he thought that it would have to be bigger than the average warehouse to contain locomotives.
"So, what's the-,"
"Quiet!"
Dean snapped his mouth shut at Sam's hiss. Judging from the way Sam had his guard up along his eyes flickering with alertness, the younger brother was in hunter mode. His instincts kicked in the moment the warehouse had come into sight and now he was ready to kill whatever came his way without a second's hesitation. And it was in this moment that Dean realized that Sam- his own and this version- could be terrifying when they wanted to be.
When Sam moved forward, Dean followed suit and continuously glanced around to make sure that nothing could sneak up on them. While the place was abandoned, a few of the lights adorning the structure still flickered with power. 'Jeez, talk about a horror movie moment,' Dean thought. He could almost hear the ominous music. Now all they needed was some hot blonde chick to call out "Hello".
As they edged closer, Sam and Dean both gripped their weapons tighter. Monsters prowled around the outer walls of the building- hissing and growling with frustration. Whatever they were after, it was inside this place. Sam and Dean each tensed, ready to fight if need be. The monsters acknowledged the Winchester brothers but none seemed to take any interest. Regardless, the hunters proceeded with caution.
"She must be in there," the other Sam muttered. Dean nodded in agreement. There was a powerful energy pulsing from within those boarded walls and both men could feel the vibrations in the air. Whoever or whatever was in that warehouse was not a force to be reckoned with. Dean swallowed hard and a bead of sweat trickled down his cheek; he was nervous about the fight.
He would never tell the other Sam this, of course. But he was just a human and, while normally he'd greet death like an old friend, Dean had worked too hard to survive in this world. He wasn't going to go down without at least dealing a few fatal blows to the thing inside. What frightened him was that the thing in there would more than likely have the same mentality.
As though in response to Dean's thoughts, an eerie green glow shone through the cracks of the walls, growing brighter and brighter. The monsters all at once screeched and clawed at themselves like crazed mental patients. Sam and Dean both covered their ears when the cries of pain reached an agonizing crescendo.
One monster- a griffin- stumbled about with its wings fluttering in extreme discomfort. Its beak hung open and its tongue lolled out as it panted through the torturous agony raging within. Dean made the mistake of taking a step back thus drawing attention to himself. The griffin, crazed with pain, pounced on the hunter and pinned him to the railroad track with a ragged cry.
That simple attack caused all hell to break loose. Monsters everywhere began lashing out at one another and some even inflicted damage to themselves. "Sam! A little help here!" Dean shouted as he wrestled with the griffin. His gun lay sprawled a few feet away, but the griffin's snapping beak inches from his face and its fatally sharp claws prevented Dean from retrieving it.
"Kinda busy here!" Sam replied as he clobbered an Ahuizotl when it sprang at him. Or at least he tried to clobber the creature, but its tail's hand grabbed onto his machete and swung him into one of the old train cars. His body ricocheted off the rusty metal and he plummeted to the ground. Sam lifted his head and blurrily saw the Ahuizotl stagger towards him.
Its usually slick coat was greasy and unkempt while its five hands seemed to be cramping from walking on land for so long. It snarled with a sort of weak cry like a lost child's wail and reached to grab the disoriented Sam to drag him towards it. Sam tried to scramble away, but his head was so plagued with dizziness that any to all movement made his world tilt.
He felt three of the Azhuizotl's hands grab onto his arms and Sam felt a surge of panic. He could hear Dean's shouts and realized that there was no way the replica of his brother could rescue him in time. Sam closed his eyes and fought against the monster's grip with all the strength he had. Teeth snapped inches from his face and hot, sickly breath blasted over his skin.
Then, all at once, the air was clear and Sam could no longer feel the bruising pressure on his wrists and neck where the monster's fingers had been. He heard a series of yelps and low grunts a few paces away from where he lay. There were more yells from Dean and a couple gunshots. Sam opened his eyes and, with what he could see, the glow had faded and all of the monsters that weren't dying or dead already had collapsed where they stood.
To Sam's great relief, the dizziness was also gradually diminishing only to be replaced with a pounding headache in its wake. He was crouching on his hands and knees when he heard footsteps coming towards him. Sam tensed up, ready to fight. The steps halted a few inches away.
"Are you alright?"
That voice...Sam very slowly looked up. The nymph, whom he had saved earlier, knelt beside him. She seemed deeply concerned for his well-being. With his hand pressing into his forehead to relieve the pressure building behind his eyes, Sam sat up. The nymph helped him with her small hands supporting his chest and back.
"Tell me, Winchester, is this where the final battle will commence?"
"Pretty much, yeah. Well, we think so anyway,"
As the nymph nodded seriously, Sam found himself buzzing with curiosity; why had she saved him? He had gotten her elf friend killed and yet...here she was. Warmth eased its way through his head and suddenly his migraine vanished within an instant. The nymph took her hand away and collapsed onto the gravel beside him.
"Hey, hey! Are you alright?" Sam panicked as he picked up the tiny creature's head in his hands. She coughed and opened her pupil-less blue eyes. A barely noticeable smile curled up her lips and the nymph gestured at something behind Sam. When he turned, Dean was steadily limping towards them, covered in dark shiny blood.
"Dean-!"
"Not my blood. Don't worry. What's up with the blue chick?"
Sam watched Dean wave his worry away with an exhausted backhand and turned back to the dying woman in his arms. When her hand gestured more frantically towards Dean, the hunter came over and knelt on the other side of Sam. His expression was grave as he took her hand. Instantly, the cuts and bruises on Dean's face disappeared.
The action seemed to completely drain the little nymph and her hand dropped dead-weighted onto her stomach. Her chest heaved and a white film was beginning to ghost over her eyes. Still, her smile remained. Sam felt a rush of sorrow for the poor creature until she shook her head at him.
"Do not weep for me, hunter. I was fully conscious in my decision to save and heal you. While I know that you may feel guilt towards my demise, understand that there is no need. I chose my fate. Just as you must choose yours."
The nymph coughed again and bright pink colored liquid erupted from her mouth. Sam and Dean could only assume that it was her blood. After the shuddering fit left her, the creature stared up at the sky. Sam could feel his heart twisting as the life in the monster- no, the being- below him began to fade away.
"Defeat that rift," she whispered, "Save this world. It is the end for me, but it doesn't have to be for all. And do not say that I don't have to die this way because there is no way for simple humans such as yourselves to help me. I mean that with no offense nor anger. My time is drawing short so listen closely."
The other Sam and Dean shared a look then glanced back down at the nymph. She was breathing faster now- quick tiny puffs of breath- and her eyes seemed to be getting increasingly more glassy by the second. Yet she firmly gazed at Dean. The hunter was startled by the raw intensity in her eyes.
"Do not lose sight of what is most important. My partner- the elf you saw- was unaware of the love I felt for her. She died without knowing the life we could have lived had I spoken my heart. I can see in your eyes, hunter, that you are in a similar situation as I. Listen to not what your heart speaks but to what your soul is saying to you," she said, "If you don't, you'll lose the chance forever."
The pain in her voice was the last thing the Winchesters heard before her chest gave a final heave and she stilled. Silence filled the rail yard and the clouds covering the moon shifted, allowing the pale light to shine brilliantly down upon them. The nymph's tiny body felt frail and brittle in Sam's arms as he picked her up.
Dean remained silent, staring down at the gravel. The way he was kneeling almost looked like he was about to pray. Sam swallowed hard and carried the lifeless creature to an abandoned train car. He carefully set her down on a ratty tarp and closed her eyes. Sam took a step back and awkwardly bowed his head.
"Thank you...for saving me. I hope you find peace wherever you are," he murmured. The only response to Sam's words was the cruel whistling of the wind against the train car's door. He felt a bit silly speaking such words to a monster, but it just seemed right. She had saved him, after all. Sam heard the cocking of a gun and turned around to find Dean standing rigidly.
"Dean? What are you..?"
"I'm going to kill her,"
There was a note in Dean's voice- something that Sam could not recognize. But he chose not to question the alter dimensional hunter. Instead, Sam snatched up his own fallen weapons and tucked them into his belt. 'Cas...are you here? Or have I just been imagining things this whole time?' Dean thought.
When Dean turned to face him, Sam could see the newfound sense of purpose. While he had been driven before, something about what the nymph had said had made this entire mission personal. Sam did not pry, but the curiosity still remained. What had shifted Dean's motivation so drastically?
While the other Sam and Dean prepared to enter the ominous warehouse, Castiel and the other Dean Winchester were closing in. They, too, had been steadily trekking towards the old building for hours, never stopping once to rest. Cas refused to inform the Dean walking in front of him that he was beginning to tire.
The energy he had spent between healing Dean's wounds and crossing over into this dimension had taken a devastating toll on the angel. While he normally would be fine with such a long journey, his vessel couldn't handle the constant exercise. Nor could his actual true self, for that matter. But still he kept his mouth shut; this Dean more than likely would not have heard him anyway.
There was a pep in the hunter's step and a burning ball of hardly hidden excitement bubbling from within him. Of course Castiel understood; Dean was about to be reunited with his family after a year of being dead. Cas would be excited, too, if he were in Dean's situation. Though, if he truly thought about it, his own Dean was waiting for him here.
A powerful flurry of emotions assaulted Castiel's mind and heart at this realization. The intensity of the barrage nearly took what breath he had left away. 'But will he be happy to see you? After all, he did say that he wanted to stay here to help the Sam and Castiel in this universe. What would make your arrival so special?'
The thought buried itself through the emotions and shattered the swelling warmth in his core. His step faltered and, due to his lack of energy, Cas tripped and hit the dirt. "Castiel!" the other Dean shouted in alarm, rushing to the angel's side. Cas waved the hunter away with a tired backhand and wiped the dirt from his face with the arm of his trench coat.
The other Dean frowned deeply at the look of absolute despair on his new friend's face and wondered incredulously what emotional turmoil was running through the angel's mind. He then noticed just how exhausted Cas was. Dark circles stood out against the slight tan of his skin and deep lines of worry etched their way through his face.
"Hey, Cas, let's-let's rest for a bit, yeah? I'm feeling a bit crappy from walking so much," Dean said as he helped Castiel into a sitting position. Cas simply gazed at him with dimmed, absent eyes. Dean winced and settled down beside the angel. His friend heaved a heavy sigh and leaned into the hunter's shoulder.
"Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"How did you and your Castiel meet?"
Dean blinked down at Cas in surprise, taken aback by the abrupt question. But the angel wasn't looking at him. Dean blew out a sort of startled breath as he wracked his brain for the memory. Once he found it, his mouth lifted in a nostalgic smile.
"Sammy and I were on a hunt. I don't remember exactly what it was we were tracking down, but I do remember that it was a stubborn son of a bitch. It took us days to find where it was hiding out. Sam and I were so ready, too, to gank that bastard. But when we got there, someone else had gotten to it first- a hunter just like us.
"Sam and Cas didn't like each other one bit when we first met him. Hell, I didn't really take a liking to him until later. He was an ass and, god, did he like to question things. But Cas was a damn good hunter- still is, I imagine. After we'd caught him with our hunt, he had pretty much insisted that he join our team,"
Dean trailed off, his eyes clouding over. Castiel had looked up at him during the story and was giving every ounce of his attention. Which was how he caught the single tear that slipped silently from Dean's eye and slid down his cheek. Dean didn't bother wiping it away. He was quiet for a moment then a strained chuckle forced its way out of the hunter's mouth.
"W-when we found out that Cas had gotten there first, Sam was so pissed," he laughed tearfully, "He and Cas had at it and you know what? Sam got his ass handed to him! Cas completely wiped the floor with him- effortlessly, too! I wish you could've seen the look on Sam's face. Priceless. It was after that...that's when he asked to join us. And, after that, well, we couldn't just say no, right?"
Dean sniffled and wiped at his eyes with the pads of his fingers. Castiel watched him sadly as the other Dean took a deep shuddering breath in. The hunter was silent for another few moments then he brought his hand up. The silver ring on his finger glinted in the moonlight. He smiled again.
"There was...always that feeling, you know? The one where you look at someone and you just know that they're who you need. My Cas used to tell me all the time that I was his soulmate. I used to wonder how he knew and how he could feel so strongly towards someone like me. But now...I think I get it. When I asked him to marry me, he didn't hesitate in his answer.
"At the time, I figured that he said yes because it was a heat of the moment type of thing. Until I died, that is. Now I know that, the reason he married me, wasn't because I had asked him. It was because, for Cas, we were already bonded. He would always love me with every bit of his being, regardless of having fancy papers and rings. He said yes for me. To make me happy,"
Dean clenched his hand into a fist and glared down at the dirt beneath his feet. Castiel took his hand and loosened the fist with a calm expression. "Dean," he began, "We will save him. I promise you." The other Dean then surprised the angel by turning his glare on Cas. He extended Cas' startled state by grabbing his friend's face in his calloused hands.
"What about you, angel? Your Dean is here, isn't he?" he growled. Castiel was taken aback by Dean's sudden ferocity and nodded mutely. The blaze in the hunter's green eyes flashed brightly and the other Dean brought Cas' face closer until they were nose to nose. Castiel felt paralyzed; he could not bring himself to look away from such a powerful stare.
"I don't know what's going on in that mind of yours, but I know as sure as I'm sitting here that your Dean feels the same way about you. And if he is anything like me, that hunter is missing the hell out of you right now. He feels just as shitty and as guilt-ridden about leaving you and Sam as I do with my own family. And you can bet your ass that as soon as he sees you, it'll be like sunshine breaking through the clouds,"
Castiel stared at the other Dean with his heart pounding with an aching longing; he was shocked to find how desperately he wanted to believe what the hunter was saying. Maybe that's why he propelled forward and hugged the other Dean so tightly. When he felt the strength behind Dean's return embrace, the angel allowed himself to relax. They both did not utter another word for a long while.
"Do you think they'll be happy to see me, Cas?"
Dean's voice broke through the quietude of the night like the slightest brush of wind in the trees. The whisper held an alarming amount of vulnerability in it. This time, it was Cas who became fierce. He held Dean closer to him, hard enough to hear the other man grunt. "Absolutely," he said. Finally, the other Dean relaxed against him and they pulled away from each other.
Things abruptly became awkward and the other Dean cleared his throat. Castiel refrained from rolling his eyes and spared a tiny smile. "Your Cas is lucky to have you, Dean," he said. The hunter caught on to the familiar phrasing and spluttered. A red flush heated his ears and a laugh bubbled in Castiel's chest.
"Damn right he is," Dean said as he stood. He held out a hand to help the angel to his feet and proceeded to lightly cuff the side of his head. Cas jumped, startled by the action. Dean gave no explanation for it and simply continued on their previous walk to the mysterious warehouse, leaving Castiel to wonder what he'd done to warrant such a response from the hunter.
Confused, Castiel shook his head and followed after the other Dean. His energy was still giving him trouble, but he felt much better after resting a bit. And their talk had eased the storm raging within. If he- no, when he saw his Dean-, Castiel was sure of at least one thing for certain: no matter the consequences, the angel would never let Sam and Dean go on a hunt without him ever again.
"This is it,"
Cas jerked from his thought process and looked up. They had arrived at the building the other Dean had mentioned before. It had apparently been closer than he'd originally thought. His muscles tensed as he heard what sounded like cries of pain. He and the hunter shared a look and crept forward towards the sound. They paused for a minute before they turned the corner. Both froze at the sight before them.
About thirty or so monsters lay dead or unconscious on the ground outlying an entrance to the warehouse. The cries they were hearing were from a half-dead griffin with two gunshot wounds through its neck and left shoulder. Thin gurgling cries came from the creature's gaping, bleeding beak. Its golden eyes rolled back into its head with a slimy film.
The half-eagle half-lion monster clawed at the gravel and tufts of grass in a desperate attempt to get away as Castiel and the other Dean approached it. Perhaps it was the piteous mewls that the griffin was whimpering or the poor thing's fright that made Castiel lean down and gently place his hand on the monster's neck.
A huge sigh exhaled from the griffin and its eyes settled on Castiel in silent gratitude. When the angel nodded with a grave expression, the creature slumped to the ground- dead as a door nail. But before it fully hit the gravel, Cas examined the wounds in its neck. The circular holes beneath the golden feathers and fur still held the bullets.
"Dean, do you recognize these bullets?" Cas questioned as he pulled them from the wounds. The other Dean, who had been examining the group of monsters, hurried over and knelt beside the angel. He frowned as Cas rolled the bloody bullets into his palm. Peering at them closely, Dean realized that these particular bullets belonged to his younger brother's pistol.
"My Sam has a gun that holds bullets that match these," he said. Cas nodded as though Dean had just answered some unasked question. The angel stood and surveyed the area with grim eyes. This battle had been recent- maybe even a few minutes old- which meant that there was something or someone out there. Someone with hunting skills.
"You think it was Sammy?"
"I'm not sure. But these monsters didn't kill themselves- well, not intentionally anyway,"
"What do you think made them freak?"
Castiel didn't answer. Instead, he strode forward with his shoulders back and his hand clenched tightly on the gun beneath his trench coat. He vaguely heard the other Dean get to his feet and follow. Cas flicked his eyes in all directions, searching for the entrance and any living monsters.
A nearly hidden doorway lay ajar in a shadowed corner of the building. Dean shoved his way past Cas, his gun held firmly in both hands, and he carefully edged his way through the opening. Castiel waited for Dean's signal to enter the warehouse then the two proceeded to make their way carefully along the pitch-black hallway.
"Cas, let's split up. You take the left and I'll go right. We'll meet in the middle," Dean whispered so softly that Cas was grateful for his angelic hearing. Though he resented the idea of separating from the only other person he'd met from this world, he knew that Dean was right; it would be easier to cover more ground on their own.
"Be careful, Dean," Castiel whispered as he maneuvered around the hunter. He felt and heard Dean's chuckle. "Don't worry about me, angel. I'll be fine," he whispered. Then Dean was gone, hurrying down the right hand side hallway. Castiel sighed softly and tried to ignore the fresh stab of loneliness as he went the opposite way.
The rift, meanwhile, was unaware of the three hunters and angel patrolling the warehouse. She was too focused on the task in front of her. Unfortunately for her, it was proving to be more difficult that she'd planned. As the rope slid apart for the seventh time, the rift cried out in frustration and backhanded the Cas of this world across the face.
"Stay still, damn you," she hissed. Cas did not respond. His heart beat feebly and his breaths were mere wisps in the frigid air. His eyes had long since shut and his mind was beginning to shut down. The rift rolled her eyes and sent a jab of her energy through the man. Cas gasped and his eyes shot open as his back arched in pain.
The rift ignored the gnawing guilt in her gut; her healing powers weren't supposed to hurt while they cured. And they were not supposed to just heal small portions of the target. It was getting worse; only Cas' heart and mind jolted with newfound energy. The remainder of his broken body was left untreated. Cursing under her breath, the rift quickly retied the knot she'd been working on and finally finished securing Castiel to the post.
"There," she sighed in satisfaction, "Now we wait." Leaving the barely conscious Cas alone, she sashayed over to her hiding spot: an opening between two large crates. Her plan was to hide in the shadows until the gallant hunter came to rescue his husband. When Dean had him untied and on his feet, she'd strike.
Her hand clenched in anticipation; all of the energy within Dean Winchester would soon be hers and she could finish what she started. Charlie, who had been silent for the majority of the time, pipped up. 'What do you even want? Why hurt so many people?' she asked. The rift sneered at the voice in her head.
"Why? Because humans are greedy little beings who don't understand anything. They destroy everything in their path just to appease their own selfish natures. My home...my family...all of it was taken away from me by them! For what? For buildings and shopping malls and education centers and other useless things! That's why they need to die. All of humanity must perish.
"And I can make it happen. With the rest of my virus. I'll exterminate the last of the puny mortals once and for all. Monsters will be free of hunters- they will be free to live without fear! I will be praised and loved and wanted! I will rule and everything will be as it was before those humans were created,"
The rift felt her stomach heave and moisture dripped from beneath her eyelids. Confused, she lifted her hand and swiped at her cheek. She was startled to find water coating the grooves of her vessel's fingers. Panicked, the rift frantically rubbed her eyes and grew even more fearful as the water increased.
"What is happening?!" she cried. The rift fell to her knees as more and more liquid poured from her eyes. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried not to scream. 'Dude, chill! You're crying! Those are just tears. You're crying,' Charlie said. The rift's brows furrowed in befuddlement.
"Crying? What is crying? Why is this liquid coming from my eyes? Have I broken you?" she asked. Normally, the rift did not indulge into conversation with the human in her mind, but she was frightened and this Charlie woman seemed to know what was going on. Said human was reeling in surprise.
'Nah, you haven't broken me. It's natural to cry. Crying is, uh, when you feel sad or overwhelmed or even angry, tears spring from little ducts in your eyes and they, um...I dunno, make you feel better, I guess,' Charlie explained. While she held a burning hatred for the supernatural being possessing her body, she felt a bit sorry for the rift.
"I don't understand what you mean but that doesn't matter now. These "tears" have stopped for time being," the rift said as she rose to her feet. She came to the conclusion that she did not like crying. Her face felt sticky and the back of her lids throbbed. The rift sniffed and found that even her nose was filled with some type of liquid that had more than likely stemmed from such crying.
A scowl soured her features; she definitely did not enjoy crying. If Charlie were still in charge of her own body, she would have rolled her eyes as far into her head as they could go. The rift paid the human no mind as she continued her silent vigil. Her glowing green eyes watched the slumped over Cas as he sat propped against the single post in the middle of the warehouse.
Moonlight shone down from the cracks in the failing roof and illuminated the poor human's figure. Each cut, bruise, and swelling areas were clearly visible. The stab of guilt was back, scraping away at the rift's heartstrings. She truly hadn't intended on harming the poor creature with her own hands. The virus was supposed to have taken care of that. But Castiel seemed to have avoided exposure to the deadly curse.
The rift frowned; if she truly thought about it, it had mostly been the monsters who had killed and chased away the humans in this city, not the humans themselves. Could she have miscalculated the potency of the virus? Or was it because of that damned hunter getting in the way? The rift gritted her teeth and suppressed a growl; of course it had to have been Dean Winchester.
He'd taken such a large portion of the virus within himself...the true potential of it must not have been unleashed. She dug her nails into her palms to help distract her from the desire to shriek in annoyance. Everything she had intended to do had been destroyed by that damn human man and his bravado. Before the rift could continue on her hateful rant, there was a clattering noise from within the warehouse.
Instantly, the rift stilled and cloaked herself within the shadows of the crates. Cas, who had been silent up until this point, raised his head at the sound. His neck ached and his head felt like a steel ball, but he could raise his head just enough to be able to see his surroundings. He still held a small smidgen of hope that someone would save him.
It wouldn't last long though. Castiel's body had reached its limit long ago and his brain was quickly following in suit. Between hallucinatory images of his beloved to blacking out for long periods of time, his brain was about to snuff out. He thought that if he could just hold on a little while longer, then maybe, just maybe, the hunters would find him on time. A scuffle nearby made Cas suck in a weak breath of anticipation.
But it turned out to just be a rat, skittering along the floor, pausing only to spare a sniff in Castiel's direction. Both the rift and her hostage slumped in defeat. Little did they know that rescue was only a few feet away. Dean walked silently along the rear end of the warehouse towards the only source of light- a broken shaft of moonlight through the center of the roof. He and the other Sam had found an entrance to the building moments before the other Dean and Cas did.
Which, of course, he hadn't known at the time. He was just about to turn a corner when footsteps could be heard coming towards him. Dean tensed, his gun held up and aimed in case of an attack. Dean leaned against the wall out of sight and felt the cool metal of his gun against his cheek. The footsteps grew increasingly louder, as though the mysterious assailant were running.
Then, just as they reached where Dean was hiding, they stopped. Refusing to let out the breath he'd been holding, Dean waited patiently for the stranger to step out from around the corner. However, he was not expecting his gun to suddenly be pinned to his side, an arm pressed against his windpipe, or having the element of surprise being turned on him.
Not to mention the fact that the stranger looking back at him had Dean's face. A scream rose in Dean and the other Dean's throats but both clamped their hands on the others' mouth just in time. Both breathed heavily, staring at one another with pale expressions of shock. Green clashed with green as the two hunters locked gazes, refusing to blink in fear of being ambushed by the other.
"Well," Dean choked out, "Talk about trippy." The other Dean smirked warily and slowly released the pressure from Dean's neck. The men took turns studying one another, their faces shifting from mild fear to curiosity. Their guards weren't let down, but they didn't plan on killing one another. At least, not at the moment.
"You must be the me from this dimension," Dean said. The other Dean raised an eyebrow and gave Dean a look that seemed to be questioning if he was really that dense. To which the real Dean replied with a rather sassy eye roll. Both cleared his throat. Things were going to be very confusing and awkward.
"Is Sam...my Sam...is he with you?" the other Dean asked. Dean nodded and the other Dean's shoulders relaxed as though a great weight had been removed from them. He even smiled a little more. A similar question hovered on Dean's lips- a question regarding a certain angel- but he kept silent; there was enough confusion and guilt-ridden thoughts plaguing both Deans' minds to last a lifetime.
"You going after the rift, too?"
"That's what she is? A rift?"
"Yeah and a damn powerful one, at that,"
"She's the one who kidnapped Cas,"
The other Dean was surprised to hear the raw amount of anger in his mirrored self's voice. It bordered his own fury. The other Dean quirked the corner of his mouth up in a sad half smile; it seemed that Castiel was right after all. His family had been in good hands. Dean bit his lip and looked at his counterpart as the two began walking again.
"You know...you really tore up your family. I know it wasn't your fault and all, but damn," he said. The other Dean nodded and seemed to deflate. He knew how badly he'd fucked up; he really didn't need this version of himself preaching a reminder. Then again, perhaps it was just like having a conscious. Dean was remembering the looks on the Castiel and the Sam from this world when they told him the depth of their grief.
But before Dean could allow the bubbling anger rise into words, a sharp yell echoed throughout the warehouse. Sharing a twin look of dread, both Dean Winchesters hurried off in search of the source of the noise. The rift, having heard the scream herself, abandoned her post by the crates with a predatory glint in her eye; the shout had been close. What she didn't seem to realize was that, by leaving her post, she was also leaving Castiel...unattended.
The other Sam, who had been the one to raise his voice in the first place, lay sprawled on the ground with an angel pinning him with a hand over his mouth. "Are you trying to inform every being in here of your location? Because if that's the case, well done. You've succeeded," Castiel growled. The other Sam's only response was a muffled squeak; his mind was reeling at the resemblance between this man and the man he was meaning to rescue.
All fighting skills had gone down the drain at that point. Cas rolled his eyes and got off of the other Dean's brother. He held out a hand which the other Sam took cautiously. The hunter and the angel then waited for the other to speak. For at least five minutes, the two simply stared at one another. Castiel was getting increasingly more annoyed with Sam's silence.
"You are the other Sam, correct?"
"Uh, yeah. Are you the...angel that Dean mentioned?"
"Yes. My name is Castiel,"
"Oh, I figured out that much. We have our own Cas. Just less, uh, angelic,"
"Yes, I am aware of my double. I am also surprised that you're so calm after speaking with Dean. Hasn't it been a year since you've seen your brother?"
"My-my brother? I was talking about the Dean that came from the mirror your world, I guess. Wait a minute. Are you saying that my Dean is here, too?"
Castiel went silent; he'd said too much. The other Sam gripped onto the angel's trench coat sleeves with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. A youthful, boyish grin shone from beneath this Sam's beard. Cas bit the inside of his cheek, a habit he'd picked up from his Sam back home. The other Dean had mentioned along the way that he had wanted to be the one to surprise Sam with his resurrection. Cas had ended up ruining that in the long run.
"Where is Dean now?"
"My Dean or your Dean?"
"My brother. I know- well, I have an idea of- where your Dean is,"
"Same goes vice versa, I suppose. Maybe they've met in a similar fashion as you and me,"
The thought of their Deans meeting made both men smile. The tense atmosphere between them all but vanished. The other Sam jerked his head as an indication for Castiel to follow him and they continued on their trek to find the rift and the other Cas. As they walked, Sam decided to strike up a conversation- made up entirely from whispers, of course. After all, he'd heard so much about this Castiel that it was kinda hard not to be curious.
"So, what's it like being an angel?"
"Tiresome,"
"Do you have any powers?"
"If you are trying to compare to me a superhero, then no, I do not have powers. I have abilities that aid me in my time on Earth,"
"Oh. Okay,"
They fell silent. The other Sam frowned and glared into the darkness; this Castiel didn't like to talk much. Dean had at least been more open about things than this guy. He'd even explained how their relationship was- or at least, tried to explain it. Sam honestly didn't believe a word the dude had said; he and this angel were as close as his own Dean and Cas. This in mind, Sam tried a new approach.
"You know...your Dean mentioned you quite a bit since he got here,"
"Has he?"
Bingo. Sam caught the softened tone in Castiel's voice. He was thankful for the darkness; the angel couldn't see the smug smirk on the other Sam's face. Castiel shifted a bit and Sam could hear his breathing hitch; he was nervous. A frown wiped away the smirk.
"Uh, yeah, he has,"
"What has he said about me?"
"That you are the best friend he's ever had. That you've saved him more times than he could count. He even mentioned that you pulled him out of Hell, which I didn't believe.
"That is true. I was the one who gripped him tight and raised him from perdition. Did he tell you that when we met face to face that his first response was to start shooting at me then to stab me in the chest?"
"What? No! Seriously?!"
"You are too loud. And yes, I am serious,"
The other Sam gawked at the shadowed silhouette of the man walking beside him. This Cas was awesome! Sam wanted to hear more of his and Dean's adventures. Which was a bit odd. Before, Castiel had been very brisk and to the point with his speech. But now that Dean was mentioned, Cas became a whole new being. 'More human,' Sam thought.
A small hum of triumph buzzed in Sam's throat; the angel did love Dean and Sam knew that Dean loved the angel right back. He'd been right all along. The feeling of warmth in his chest reminded Sam of when he had first gotten his own brother and friend together at last. They were almost identical. But the difference was that his brother had actually tried asking Castiel out.
Sam was unsure about how the Dean from the other world would react. That Dean seemed to have a deeper 'no homo' vibe to him than the other Sam's brother. Castiel, the angel, however, was so in love with Dean that it was nearly gut wrenching. But from what Sam had observed from watching and spending time with the angel's Dean, the hunter seemed to feel the same way.
Frustration rose like a burning bomb in Sam's being. He'd hate to imagine how the Sam from the other dimension must feel. Castiel suddenly held out his arm as a sign to halt. Hunter instincts returning, Sam paused with his hand clenching the handle to his machete. He strained his eyes and ears as he peered into the darkness ahead of them.
"Something's there. Go around the left and I'll take right," Sam murmured. The angel didn't seem to like being ordered around, but he followed Sam's instructions wordlessly. They had reached the middle of the warehouse and were only now aware of the presence in the room. Castiel was gone from Sam's sight, but the hunter could still feel that he was there.
Creeping forward, Sam edged his way out from behind a crate. He could see a figure slumped against a pole in the center of the beam of moonlight. Sam fought the urge to rush out and help the person; it was obviously a trap. So, he diligently moved around the crates while stepping closer and closer to the hostage.
When he was as close to the man as he could get without being seen, Sam quietly slipped the machete out of its holster on his back. Keeping his eyes alert, he leaned forward. His fingers made soft thudding noises as he tapped the ground to get the figure's attention. He was unprepared for the realization that the hostage was his Castiel.
Rage, pain, sorrow, guilt, and horror hit Sam like a tidal wave. No wonder Sam hadn't recognized him; his poor friend's face was completely covered in angry purple bruises and deep red cuts. His right eye was swollen nearly shut and dried blood caked around its edges. A gaping wound that had scabbed over and reopened a few times stood out against the dark brown of Cas' hair. That was all visible; Sam wondered what horrors lie beneath Cas' clothing.
"Sam?"
The other Sam shot his head up at the sound of Dean's voice. Relief spiraled through him; Dean was just the person he needed to see. He heard the steady steps of the hunter coming towards him. The other Sam moved into the light carefully and got to work on the bindings encasing Cas' ankles. He didn't look up as Dean's booted feet stopped beside him.
"Dean, I found Cas. We have to get him out of here. Start on the ropes around his wrists,"
"Sammy?"
Sam froze, his hands stilling from their sawing motion. His eyes filled with tears and his lower lip began to tremble. 'It couldn't be,' he thought. Dean had followed Sam's instructions and was currently kneeling behind Cas with a knife cutting the ropes. And he hadn't said anything else after Sam's name. That meant that someone else had called him "Sammy". Only one person called him that...
Slowly, Sam glanced over at the boots. His gaze traveled up and up and up, taking in the familiar clothing and stature. When he finally saw the face of the boot's owner, Sam's breath caught in his throat. Tears flowed freely from his eyes and he shakily stood. His feet wobbled and the machete fell from his hands. It hit the ground with a clang.
"Dean...?"
"Hey, little brother,"
A/N: Happy New Year! Thank you all so much for being patient. You've all been so kind and supportive. I hope you all have the best luck this year!