AN- heyo! I'm back!

I'm so sorry for killing Gabriel, but I had to force Sam and Dean to work together, there is a reason for all of this.

Italics are flashbacks.

Bold italics are visions/memories

Chapter 5

Lockdown

"Dammit!" Dean cursed as he turned away from the police officer and his car that was blocking the road.

He climbed back into the car, turning it around and driving away.

"They've got every road in and out of the city blocked off, no one gets in or out, we're on lockdown, Sammy." Dean abruptly stopped talking as he said Sam's name.

Sam glanced at him, frowning. "Why are you always flinching when you say my name?" He asked, his voice guarded, he still hadn't forgot that Dean had tried to kill him less than two days earlier.

"It's nothing." Dean snapped, his gaze far away, remembering a time long ago.

Dean rolled over in his bed, clicking on the lamp with one hand, rubbing his eyes with the other.

"Sammy?" He asked sleepily, "you there?"

Dean frowned when he revived no reply; maybe Sam was in the bathroom?

Dean shook of the memory, glaring at the road. "It's nothing." He repeated.

Sam shrugged, it didn't seem important, giving the circumstances.

After all, they were trapped in the city, angels and policemen guarding any exit. Zachariah wasn't letting them leave easily.

Sam stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket, trying to think of something to get them out of here, stop Zachariah, stay alive, do anything other than just driving pointlessly around the city.

Dean pulled over, parking by an alleyway.

"We should get some sleep, they'll probably find us eventually, at least this way we'll be well rested."

Sam watched Dean sink down in his seat, moving around until he was comfortable.

Leaning back, Sam tried to sleep, but it wasn't easy. Whenever he closed his eyes the image of Gabriel laying dead on the floor, a pair of huge ashen wings stretched out on the floor and walls, appeared and he had to open his eyes again.

He moved to take his hands out of his pocket, but something inside one rustled. Pulling it out he saw that it was the wrapper that Gabriel had taken off the lollipop he had eaten the morning that Dean had woken up.

There was something on the back, and when Sam looked at it, he realized it was writing.

Dean Winchester John Winchester

Michael

Sam Winchester (Azazel)

Lucifer?

Zachariah.

1992

Sam stared at the wrapper in confusion, what did this mean? Was it some kind of code?

And who was Sam Winchester?

Sam ran a finger over the words, his lips forming the words.

"Winchester." He whispered.

Something about that seemed familiar, something just out of reach.

A white light flashed behind Sam's eyes, and he realized to late that it was the same thing that had happened when he had seen Dean's amulet.

Dean wasn't really sleeping, he was lying awake thinking about Sam, the trickster, who had just waltzed into his life and screwed everything up.

He leaned his head against the window, thinking.

Dean climbed out of bed to see the bathroom door ajar, with the light off, no Sammy in sight.

"Sam?" He called, panicking.

Running to the door, he checked the salt line, and seeing it intact, relaxed slightly.

Maybe he just needed some fresh air. Yeah, that was it; Sam probably had a nightmare and went for a walk. Dean tried to convince himself, searching for some other possible reason that Sam was gone. The motel door was locked and bolted, the salt lines were in place, everything was where it should be, even Sam's jacket was hanging on the back of a chair.

Then Dean realized, Sam would never leave without his jacket, it was only 30 degrees outside and Sam would be cold.

His hands shook as he grabbed the phone, dialing his dad's number as fast as possible.

"I'm in the middle of something, what is it?"

"Dad, Sam's gone."

"WHAT? Are all the salt lines intact? Are you sure he didn't just wander off?"

"Yes, I'm sure, all the salt is good."

"Hold on Dean, I'll be there in an hour."

Dean was pulled out of his thoughts by a thump, Dean turned to look at Sam in time to see his head slump back, eyes rolling.

Dean stared as Sam started seizing, one hand holding what looked suspiciously like a candy wrapper, the other twitching and grasping for something invisible.

"Sam! Hey, Sam! Wake up! Sam? Sam?"

Dean shook the other mans shoulder, growing more and more worried, which was ridiculous, Sam wasn't even human, and Dean was a hunter.

Sam's eyes opened suddenly, searching desperately for something.

He turned to Dean, one hand grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, and Sam's gaze fell on Dean's amulet. He stared at it for a few seconds, his eyes wide.

"No...This- this isn't possible." He whispered, releasing Dean's shirt, scrambling backwards, one hand reaching for the door. It opened suddenly, causing Sam to fall backwards out of the car, falling literally at the feet of a man with black hair and blue eyes, wearing a beige trench coat.

He shook his head, sighing

"This has gone too far, they will not consent by force, nor will changing the past change their family ties." The man mused, his head tilted slightly to the left.

Sam looked at the man suspiciously, unsure how to proceed. He moved to say something, but Dean beat him to it.

"Who the holy hell are you?" he demanded.

The stranger tilted his head even more than before,

"I am Castiel, I understand that Sam has proficient knowledge of angels in this reality?"

Dean stared at Castiel, confused.

"What do you mean, this reality?" he asked.

Castiel sighed, shaking his head again.

"The damage is far more extensive than I originally thought."

Sam stared at him,

"You're not making any sense!" he said, thoroughly confused.

Castiel looked ready to explain, his mouth slightly open, when the sound of fluttering wings stopped him.

"Hello Castiel." Zachariah said, smiling faintly.

Stepping forward, angel blade in hand, he looked Castiel in the eyes.

"Step away from the Winchesters, Castiel, or I will not hesitate kill you."

Castiel glared at the other angel, his gaze stony.

"This is wrong, Zachariah, this will not bring about the Apocalypse. Dean will not sacrifice himself for someone he believes to be the enemy. Sam was always the more reasonable of the brothers; Dean may be the righteous man, but he sees the supernatural simply in black and white. If he believes Sam is a trickster, than he will most likely ignore his death. You can still repair the damage you have done, give Sam his memories back, destroy the wall, it is only a matter of time before he breaks it himself, without angelic assistance." Castiel looked hopefully at Zachariah, breathing heavily at the end of his rant.

Zachariah shook his head, "Castiel, you cannot hope to fight me, the time travel took a lot out of you, I will kill you."

Castiel looked at Zachariah defiantly.

"Than so be it, I have died for the Winchesters before, and I will not hesitate to do so again."

Zachariah moved faster than Dean thought possible, the silvery blade appearing in his hand.

As he buried it in Castiel's chest, the blue-eyed angel uttered one last word,

"Run."

And they did, running down the street, and into an alley, before realizing it was a dead end.

Zachariah appeared, blocking their exit.

He raised the blade, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Well, well. Zachariah's all grown up. You were barely a few millennia old when I left, and a hell of a lot better looking, I may add."

Zachariah spun around to face the figure standing behind him.

"What? You-you're dead, I killed you!"

Gabriel shrugged and twirled the silver blade in his hand.

"Guess again."

AN- there! Done. hopefully no one abandoned this story after I killed Gabriel. oh well.

IMPORTANT!

Zachariah put up a wall, he didn't remove Sam's memories. I figured if Death cant remove memories, than a plain old angel probably can't either.

-Emma