"I miss Chuck," Dean says.

"Yeah. Me, too. We need to look him up when we get back."

"I'm sure we'll run into him."

Strong, scarred, beautifully familiar arms hug me closer even though we need to get a move on. He holds me tightly but so gently. I don't think there's that much tenderness left in that other one to touch anyone like this. And that reminds me.

"What did he say after I left? Anything that wasn't stupid?"

"There's nothing about this that's not stupid, Jay. The whole damn thing has gone to hell. He's doing the best he can, I think. It just ain't that good."

"He wants you to say yes to Michael."

"Yeah, he does."

"Are you going to? Is this little stunt of Zachariah's working?"

"Jay, come on."

"What do you mean 'Come on'? It's a valid question, Dean. Are you thinking about it now?"

It's getting a little uncomfortable, heated, his face showing he's pissed I would even think he'd consider it, mine obviously pissed because he won't tell me I'm wrong.

"And that's how it started. The suspicion, the small arguments. It gets bigger." The other walks up to us, and my Dean and I stare at the looking-glass-reality-variant of this man. He stares back and shakes his head. "Let's go. Time to move out."

We continue to watch him as he walks away in silence, just standing there next to each other, feeling a distance that has never been there before. Not ever. I'm finding it hard to decide whether it's real or imagined. Doesn't matter. I won't let it happen. Neither will he. Dean grabs my hand and walks us toward Cas's truck. I squeeze that hand like it's my lifeline. Because it is.

"I don't get to ride in the Jeep, baby?" I ask, pointing with my free hand to where the two who look like us are climbing in. I giggle at the look of incredulity on his face, both of us forcing the levity we need.

"Jeep my ass, sweetheart. Just wait til we get home. I'm gonna remind you all about the perfection that is my Baby.

"We get home, you can do whatever you want with me and that Impala."

"I'll hold you to it," he grins with a raised brow.

"I expect nothing else."

"Hop on in!" Cas exclaims, pushing open the passenger door of his beat up SUV. "He won't wait. We need to keep up."

"He's a dick," Dean offers by way of explanation.

"Yep," Cas agrees, still grinning. When he pops a few pills, we understand why.

"Let me see those," Dean demands.

"You want some?" Cas offers, reaching over me to hand them to Dean.

"Amphetamines?" I ask, catching a peek at the label.

"It's the perfect antidote to that absinthe," the stoner driving the truck replies.

"Don't get me wrong, Cas," Dean continues. "I, uh. I'm happy that the stick is out of your ass, but what's going on with the drugs and the orgies and the love-guru crap?"

"What the hell, Cas? You have to admit, this is behavior unbecoming an angel," I joke, but not really. I can't even believe I'm seeing this.

When he laughs, it's so sad. So sad. "I'm not an angel anymore. I went mortal."

"What do you mean? How?" Now, Dean is the one wearing disbelief.

"I think it had something to do with the other angels leaving. But when they bailed, my mojo just kind of drained away. And now, you know, I'm practically human. I mean, I'm all but useless. Last year, broke my foot, laid up for two months."

"So, you're human. Well, welcome to the club." I want him to smile a real smile. It doesn't work.

"Thanks. Except I used to belong to a much better club. And now I'm powerless. I'm hapless, I'm hopeless. I mean, why the hell not bury myself in women and decadence, right? It's the end, baby. That's what decadence is for. Why not bang a few gongs before the lights go out? But then that's, that's just how I roll. You know, Jay?"

"Hey, now," Dean warns and Cas chuckles. A real chuckle. I'll take it.

"Dean knows a thing or or two about rolling that way. Tried to help you bang a gong, remember?"

"What's that?" the love guru asks.

"A whorehouse, Cas." Dean huffs when he hears this, apparently not excited to bring this up again.

"Is that still new for you?" Cas is genuinely smiling. Okay, then. Whores make Cas happy. No more proof needed.

"Very."

"Still mad at him?" he asks me while he looks at Dean.

"A little," I respond truthfully. "But not much." And Dean huffs again.

"So your plan is to just stay high until things change?" Dean asks.

"No, my plan is to just stay high."

"Everyone has changed so much, all of you," I say quietly.

"How could we not?" Cas asks such a good question.

"It's my fault. Me and Dean, the way they are now. Right?" It's been on my mind since that conversation with the other me. She pretty much told me, but I still can't quite believe it. Can't quite understand how I could do it. But I know it's true.

"Jay, babe, you don't-" I stop Dean.

"You asked me earlier today, who ended it. It was me."

"Yes. It was. It was horrible to watch. I was really hoping you two could make it," our former angel confirms. He sighs, and reluctantly continues," After Sam, you both broke. Both of you, but Dean especially. What did you used to say, Jay? That something was so broken it rattled? Well, he rattled like a box of broken glass."

I think about that for a second, so used to Dean being the one who puts me back together that it's hard to wrap my brain around him being the broken one. Though it has been painfully obvious to us both since we landed in this badly written episode of the Twilight Zone that nothing is the same - having met our future selves, having seen the path our lives might take -I don't think Dean and I are quite ready to accept any of this. Not any of it.

"I used to say it? I don't say it anymore?"

"You don't say anything anymore."

"She has no one?" I ask, but I know the answer.

"She doesn't want anyone. She comes to meetings, heads up security, helps him keep things organized and calm. But she spends as much time as she can away. And he becomes more and more of a dick. A strong leader, we follow him wherever he says, but he's a different person."

"Different enough to be leading us all into this shit show. It's a crap plan, Cas. I would never do this," Dean snaps. He has his own evil twin issues to unravel.

"I know," Cas replies. But he keeps driving.

AN: Don't own SPN. Stoner Cas loves reviews. And on that note, thank you so, so much to my readers. There are so very few of you, but you make my day, ladies.