AN: Don't own SPN. Also don't own the sense it takes to just sit down a write a chapter. Told you I suck at updates.

Things calm down when our future selves come back into the cabin. We are all four equally adept at pretending nothing is wrong; a coping mechanism well learned. Her Dean beckons with a nod of his head and grunts that there's a planning meeting.

"You want us there?" I ask. "Couple of hours ago you were hiding us."

"Yeah, well, someone let the doppelgangers out of the bag, now, didn't they? You as well hear what's going on. It's why that dick with wings sent you here, right?" He turns and stomps out the door. She gives him a couple seconds lead time, then follows behind silently. I don't know how they ended their conversation, but I'm guessing it wasn't the way he wanted it to.

"Someone's grumpy," I comment quietly to my Dean once we're outside.

"You, I mean she, just rejected him. She's so mad, babe. Of course, he's not happy. I wouldn't be," he explains.

"She's lost," I tell him with a sad conviction, looking up to meet his eyes.

He takes my hand and we walk through this camp under intense scrutiny. He puts on his swagger, and I stride confidently. We are not the kind to ever show our discomfort. Hesitation gets you dead in our line of work. It earns only distrust. Never let anyone see it.

We both watch the pair leading us along this gravel path. He doesn't look at her, but he sees everything about her. When she veers to the left to avoid a rain-filled pothole, he leans left, just to stay as close as he can. He steps in time with her rhythm. He swings his arms to match. But she's so closed off. No indication that she's even aware he is walking beside her. They don't touch. I don't think she'd let him. That one moment of tenderness when she touched his cheek before, I think she regrets it.

It's never been that way for us, the real us, the us we really are. Not since we got together, at least. We touch all the time. All the time. Dean is hyper-sexual, but the contact isn't about sex. Not every minute of the day anyway. It's the connection we crave. The positive proof that I'm still there, that he's still by my side. That need has intensified since his return from Hell, but it was always there. I can't imagine not touching him. I move closer, and our joined hands are trapped between us. He doesn't move away. He understands. Of course, he does.

We reach what must be their headquarters. Cas is there already. So is Risa.

For some reason Dean tightens his grip on my hand.

The woman's eyes get bigger when she sees not only me but the other one, too. I'm sure she's heard about this already, but it must be a different thing altogether to see it with your own eyes. She makes an obvious effort not to look at either Dean.

Cas flops in a chair and throws his feet up on the table as the rest of us find a place to perch in the cramped room.

"So, that's it? That's the Colt?" Risa asks, voice full of derision. I have to admit, it is a bit underwhelming just lying there on a greasy cloth.

"If anything can kill Lucifer, this is it," Other Dean insists.

Risa snorts. "Great. Have we got anything that can find Lucifer?"

"Are you okay?" Cheater Dean asks. Bad question. Other Me simply goes on not noticing.

But my Dean notices. And grins. "Oh, we were in Jane's cabin last night."

"Damn right, you were," I interject with a great big smile.

"And, apparently, we and...Risa have a connection," Dean informs his evil twin with obvious delight.

Cas laughs, too. I like him even more.

"You want to shut up?" the Other snaps.

Dean raises his hands in surrender, and I wink at Risa. She doesn't wink back. Pretty sure she hasn't blinked for a minute.

"We don't have to find Lucifer. We know where he is. The demon that we caught last week, he was one of the big guy's entourage. He knew," future man continues, ignoring shit again.

Risa huffs, "So, a demon tells you where Satan's gonna be, and you just believe it?"

"Oh, trust me, he wasn't lying," he responds.

"And you know this how?" is her snarky reply.

"Oh, I really don't like her, babe," I whisper, only to be shushed by my still grinning man.

Castiel stretches and fills us all in on a small piece of information. "Our fearless leader, I'm afraid, is all too well schooled in the art of getting to the truth."

"Torture? Oh, so, we're, we're torturing again." My Dean is not pleased.

Neither am I. "Oh, that's just wonderful. No, that's, that's good. Not stupid at all. It always works out so well."

Castiel laughs and has to answer to the boss. "What? I like past them. They're a lot more fun than the two of you," he says, wagging a finger between the Jane and Dean he knows.

The new guy brushes off that comment and continues the meeting, informing us all, "Lucifer is here. Now. I know the block and I know the building."

Castiel helpfully points out that this is in the middle of a very unsafe area. Fearless Leader is okay with that. "Are you going?" he asks Cas.

"Of course. But why are they? I mean, they're you guys five years ago. If something happens to them, you and Jane are gone, right?"

"They're coming. End of discussion."

"Okay. Well, uh. I'll get the grunts moving," Cas tosses back as he leaves the cabin and concedes the point.

"Why are you taking us?" my confused man demands.

"Relax. You'll be fine. Zach's looking after you, right?" the other responds, brushing off a our concern. Yeah, okay. You're coming because I want you to see something. I want you to see our brother."

"Sam? I thought you said he was dead," I say, trying to get the information my suddenly silent boyfriend needs.

"Sam didn't die in Detroit. He said yes, Jane."

"Wait. No, you can't mean - "

"That's right. The big 'yes'. To the devil. Lucifer's wearing him to the prom."

My man finds his voice and asks, "Why would he do that?"

"Wish I knew," comes the tired, defeated sigh. "But now we don't have a choice. It's in him, and it's not getting out. And we've got to kill him, Dean. And you need to see it, the whole damn thing, how bad it gets, so you can do it different. And she needs to be there, because if anyone can change your mind, it'll be her."

"What do you mean, change my mind?"

"Zach said he was gonna bring you back, right? To your year?"

"No," I snap, understanding what he's getting at.

He ignores me and points at my Dean, "When you get back home, you say yes. You hear me? Say yes to Michael."

"No," I say again. Facing them both, I shout it once more, "NO!"

I hear New-and-far-from-improved trying to convince the love of my life to volunteer for duty as an angel onesie. I miss the details because I'm slamming my way out the door before I do one or both of them bodily harm.

And run right into Chuck wandering in the dark among the vehicles, holding a clipboard.

"Uh, Jane? Uh, old, um, past Jane? You okay?"

"I'm fine, Chuck."

"Good, good. So, you're really from '09?"

"Yeah, afraid so."

"Some free advice? You ever get back there, you hoard toilet paper. You understand me? Hoard it. Hoard it like it's made of gold. 'Cause it is."

"Thank you, Chuck," I smile.

"Oh, you'll thank me, all right. Mark my words." He stops and studies my face for a moment. "It's great to see you again, Jane."

"You see me all the time, Chuck," I answer, a bit puzzled.

He shakes his head. "Not really."

A quick wave, a backward glance, and he disappears between two beat up old Fords. There's a small squeeze in my heart as i lose sight of him. I can't quite put my finger on why.

"See you around, Chuck," I whisper.

"Who you talking to?" Dean asks as he walks up behind me and slips his arms around my waist.

"No one. Are we ready?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

I don't ask him what the other Dean said after I left. I don't want to know.

AN: This is a little closer to the show than I normally like to be. Sorry about that.