Dean navigated the familiar streets blindly. Another Tuesday. Always another Tuesday.

Not that it mattered, but it was actually Friday. Or at least Dean was pretty sure it was Friday. There was no point keeping track of the days slipping past when they were all the same anyway. All Tuesdays.

Another trip to the Mystery Spot Cafe. Another magic show. Another night in the hotel room, waiting for Sam to fall asleep so that he could slip out quietly. And another unnaturally early morning so that he could be back before Sam woke.

The same every day. Every day.

Dean wasn't bitter. He was doing it for Sammy, for his baby brother. This was nothing compared to the lengths he would go.

But he was tired. Exhausted actually. Of all of it. If this town. Of the show. Of the nondescript hotel room. This was not, would never be, home. But they were stuck here anyway.

The Mystery Spot Cafe appeared in front of them and Dean heard Sam sigh behind him. Dean didn't blame him. Even from the outside the place was tacky. One visit to the horror house of gaudy and wacky interior design was enough. Dean no longer remembered how many times he's been inside.

And they didn't even serve decent coffee.

Dean slowed his pace as they approached the squat building under the fluorescent sign. The brightly coloured advertisement for Gabriel's show winked at him from where I was nestled amongst other bland notices. He merely glanced at it, not wanting to tip Sam off. His brother would see it and suggest they go. Just like every other day.

Sam did stop, eyes fixed on the poster. Dean could see the memory of childish glee lurking in his eyes, but his brother seemed...absent. Sam looked at the poster and Dean looked at Sam, waiting.

And then Sam glanced away from the poster and continued walking in through the doors to the cafe.

Dean stood stunned.

The day suddenly lurched around him.

Not just another day.

Not just another Tuesday.

Oh god.

Dean was going to be sick. His eyes gravitated back to the poster. Everything else was swimming in a sea of shocked nausea. He was half aware that he was standing in the middle of the footpath, eyes burning holes into the community notice board. The other half of his sanity was wondering why it suddenly felt like someone had reached in and tore his heart out through his ribcage.

From out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Sam lean back through the doorway to the cafe. His brother had no idea why he had stopped. Sam couldn't understand how everything had just broken.

Sam had just turned everything upside down, and he didn't even know it. He'd just brought about the end of their world. And he didn't even realize what he was doing.

Dean tore his eyes away from the offending notice and looked at Sam, eyes still wide with shock.

As Dean looked back at him, Sam couldn't fathom the depth of the sadness that he saw there. Dean tried to erase it, but he knew that Sam saw it. Before there had always been something flickering in Dean's eyes, whether it was mischief, charm or courage. Now if seemed that that flame had been extinguished. By a magician's poster.

"Are you coming to eat or what?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Sure." Dean mumbled absently. Too many things had suddenly gone wrong that Dean didn't know where to start to fix it.

He tried and failed to compose himself, but somehow managed to control his feet enough to follow Sam back through the doors.

Dean took a little comfort in the constancy of his surroundings. The familiarity of it.

Barely half an hour before he'd been cursing the sameness of his life. Now he just wanted it back.

A waitress came over and they ordered. Dean ordered the Tuesday special out of habit. Sam ordered the same.

Dean looked at Sam with an odd mixture of sadness and confusion that even he couldn't comprehend. Sam seemed to be ignoring it though.

Dean sighed, trying to take stock of the situation. Perhaps he was overreacting.

Same town.

Same streets.

Same cafe.

Same Sam.

Dean had lived through enough Tuesdays to know the drill inside and out. He knew each and every one of the variations. Sometimes things had to be done a little differently. But overall, in every way that counted, nothing ever changed in Sam's world. It was easier for Sam that way. Easier on all of them. If nothing changed.

Only things had changed.

Dean had never understood it. No matter the day, rain hail or shine, Sam would find his way into that show. He'd take his place in Gabriel's audience, somehow. Without fail. From the very start, that was the one thing that they could count on. Maybe that was why Dean could put up with the magician. He knew how much he meant to Sam. Even if Sam didn't.

Without fail. Until this Tuesday.

Today was different. Dean didn't know whether to rejoice or hit something. They'd been waiting, hoping for some sign of change. Maybe this was it.

If this was it, it wasn't all good news.

Because Sam was forgetting Gabriel. In the only sense that mattered to them anymore.

Sam was looking around himself, clearly unimpressed by the theme. Dean did the same, hoping to find some distraction. There was nothing he could do about anything yet. He'd just have to see the day through.

"Man, this place is strange."

Dean made an unenthusiastic sound of assent and continued watching Sam.

"Dude, what's up with you?" Sam demanded, voice slightly harsher than usual.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not acting like yourself."

"I don't…"

"And this place has terrible coffee. I'm sure there's another café in town."

Dean just continued to look at him, fixated. Sam began squirming under his brother's gaze, apparently beginning to feel a little bad about his outburst. They had done enough fighting last night, even if Sam couldn't know that it had ever happened.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to start another fight."

"Another fight?" Dean echoed.

"I get it, you still haven't forgiven me for yesterday, but you should at least acknowledge that it happened."

Dean struggled to catch up as the world rearranged itself again.

"Y…yesterday?"