Chapter 12

What the …? Dean hits the ground butt-first and he lets out a yelp from the sudden sharp pain in his leg. A hand is there.

"What the …? Dean! Are you okay?"

Sam.

Dean shakes his head and hangs on to his brother's arm, pulling himself up as he tests his leg slowly, willing it to not buckle as he stands.

"I don't remember getting hammered," Dean mumbles, because really, what the fuck?

Internal and external observation colliding, Dean smells whiskey on Sam's breath and sees his brother looking like shit warmed over. Greasy hair, hanging in stringy lines over his eyes. Funky smell, not just the booze, and looks like he's been wearing his clothes long enough for them to start walking on their own. Sam is staring at him like … like when Dean first walked into the motel room back from Hell … like Sam's at war with his own eyes.

"What happened?" Sam asks stunned.

Dean looks around "Well, for one, we're not in Kansas any more, Sammy."

Sam notices the Crater Lake sign. Stares at it like it can't really be there. Dean gets the moment his brother's bloodshot eyes acknowledge where they are. "I … I was driving. Then I was standing here and you were on the ground."

"Hope the road was empty 'cause that must have been one heckuva crash."

"Crater Lake?" Sam is still looking at the sign, wrinkling his forehead. "Why are we in Oregon?"

A beat. Then, "The virus," they both say at the same time.

Savage, animal eyes in no-longer-human faces chase him as he runs for his life. Is it starting already? He'd thought they'd have more time. Dean looks around at the quiet. God, no.

Since Dean is on his feet Sam lets go of his arm, but Dean immediately loses his balance as he puts weight on his not-ready-for-prime-time leg. Sam automatically braces his arm around Dean's back to steady him. They start to walk down the road into town.

"Whoa," Sam says after Dean stumbles again. "What's wrong? You hurt your leg?"

Dean hesitates. "Little accident. 'S nothing."

Bitchface. "Bull. Hell Hounds came after you in North Dakota. It was a trap."

Now it's Dean's turn to stare. "How'd you know that? Bobby said you never bothered to call back."

Sam is instantly defensive. "I couldn't call back. Lucifer killed the signal. Blacked out the entire Midwest. That's why I was driving."

"You were coming …?"

"Of course." Sam says as if what else would he do? Sam runs his hand through his hair and squeezes Dean's arm a little tighter. "How bad is it? Your leg?"

If he puts any weight on it he's gonna fall flat on his face. "I think I need to find a place to sit," Dean admits. Sam was driving to North Dakota? Dean can't reconcile that idea with the Sam that walked out on him nearly two weeks ago.

A fallen tree is not far from where they stand. Sam carefully arranges himself to support Dean as they make their way to it.

Dean can't help the hiss as he eases down. At his brother's shiver, Sam removes his outer jacket and silently gives it to Dean. Dean hesitates a moment but then slips it on. It's huge and he knows he should feel ridiculous floating around in it, but … he doesn't. Sam's concern feels oddly out of place, like Dean is seeing more than is really in his brother's look. What the fuck is going on, anyway? It seems like this is really Sam, but how can he be sure of anything? He doesn't think he's dreaming but he sure as heck isn't in Bobby's living room any more, either. And what happened to Cas?

"Dean? Is Bobby okay? How did you get hurt?"

"Bobby's fine. Like you said, it was a trap. And we strolled right into it. Town was as vanilla as a Kinkade painting … I was checking it out, split off from Bobby and Cas … And then the Hell Hounds were there." Dean stops. He doesn't need to say more, Sam has seen what Hell Hounds do. Dean rubs his thigh trying to ease the spasm.

Sam watches him. "Dean, what aren't you telling me?"

"That's the whole story. I was … lucky … they only got my leg."

Jo pushes her guts back into her stomach as he carries her through the street… Sam is staring at him and Dean doesn't know what's going on in his brother's mind. Then he thinks Sam must be reliving Hell Hound memories, too. So, Sam's next words make no sense.

"I thought … She was laughing …"

"Who was laughing?"

Sam tightens his lips and pushes at his greasy bangs. Dean wonders if Sam's reliving his childhood bath phobia, can't remember the last time his brother looked this grungy past the age of ten.

"Death showed up on my television."

Dean doesn't think he heard Sam right. "Come again?"

"Yeah. I know. As crazy as it sounds, she was on the T.V. in my room. Nice looking in a Marilyn Monroe hell-bitch kind of way … She was in North Dakota waiting for you. Doing a live reporter-on-the-spot thing. Waiting for the Hounds. Street behind her, I could see how wide open it was … no visible cover. You … were running." Sam stops, can no longer meet his brother's eyes.

"Sam …"

"It was New Harmony all over again. You were going to Hell and I was fucking useless."

"Sammy … I'm not in Hell. It's not your fault. It never was."

Sam says nothing. Dean looks away. He doesn't have time for his brother's emo guilt trip. He's in Croatoan Ground Zero and in his compromised state he's got a freakin' bulls-eye pasted on his ass. Not Dean's favorite position. He looks sideways at Sam hoping that his brother will have his back and the fact that the answer isn't an automatic yes aches, but what else can he think after the way they last parted?

"Dean?" There is hesitation and wonder in the one word as Sam is reaching out to Dean's chest, almost but not quite laying one finger on the familiar amulet hanging there.

"Cas gave it back," Dean says simply.

Sam drops his hand without touching it but his troubled eyes stare right into Dean's and it's quick, but something deep and solid passes between them in that instant. Something Dean has not expected ever again.

But then Sam drops his eyes and Dean wonders what is real and what is memory, and he rubs the amulet for a moment before letting it go to drop against his chest.

"We need to find out what's going on," Sam says as he stands suddenly and looms over Dean. Dean can't quite get his leg to work right. Sam watches him struggle a moment, then helps Dean to his feet without asking.

"I can walk," Dean gruffs. Thanks to a miracle, but that's need to know and Sam isn't back on that list yet.

"Who sent us here? Zachariah? Lucifer?"

"Don't forget Door Number Three … your friendly neighborhood Pale Rider, 'ol Blondie herself."

"Or the Fabio twin."

"Rivergrove's not a coincidence."

"Probably not."

After just a short distance, Dean knows he's screwed five kinds of Sundays, and his slowness puts Sam at risk.

"Think we can rig me some sort of walking stick?"

Sam looks at him surprised but recovers quickly and starts scanning the area for something they can use. Dean leans against a tree as Sam finds a fallen branch and it's not much but it supports Dean's weight and lets him move without having to hang on to Sam for dear life and … it's something. Just be glad you have a leg at all, Winchester, he chastises himself. He ignores the questioning looks Sam keeps giving him.

The crazily familiar purr of an engine catches their attention and they look up together as a black Impala rolls past. Dean looks at Sam, brows drawing together and Sam's got the same huh expression.

They catch up to the Impala pulling in front of the Rivergrove Medical Clinic. From a doorway across the street they see Sam Winchester emerge from the car and race inside, arm supporting an injured woman.

Sam gasps, "What the hell?"

Dean says, "Wait for it, Sam."

And then Dean emerges, goes to the trunk and pulls out a wrapped body, heaves it upon his shoulder and follows Sam.

Sam's mouth is hanging open almost comically and his jaw muscles are twitching and he says, "Shapeshifters?"

"No. I wish. I think we're back to the future."

"Wh … at?"

Dean sorts through his memories. "2006, right? You had a vision that I shot someone. That's why we came here."

"Tha … that's … What?"

Sam is freaking out, and how screwed up is Dean's life that this is old hat? "Zachariah, you sonovabitch, what lesson you tryin' to teach me now?" Dean shouts.

"You think Zach is behind this?" Sam is trying to get himself together. He tries for a bitchface. Almost makes it.

"It's got his M.O. "

Sam looks like he did when he first learned goblins were real. "What ... I mean, we should avoid ourselves, right? Or we'll mess up the future?"

Dean's eyes brighten. "You're right. Because if now you and past you should touch … it'll disturb the space-time continuum and erase you from existence. Or blow up the entire universe. I forget. But look at the bright side – you won't have to worry about freeing Lucifer any longer."

Sam's eyes widen a moment before his face scrunches. "Screw you."

Dean laughs. "Relax. I met Mom before she had either one of us, for heaven's sake, and yet here we are. I think time is harder to screw with than Doc Brown thought."

As they wait in the doorway across the street, Dean wishes some painkillers had transported with him.

"Sam, got any aspirin?"

Sam gives him a look of concern but doesn't ask, just feels in the pocket of the jacket he lent to Dean and pulls out a bottle. As Dean is dry swallowing some of the pills, Sam puts his arm out all of a sudden like he's feeling for something. His brows draw together and his mouth opens slightly.

"What?" Dean asks.

Voice shaky, Sam says, "Lucifer. He's not here."

Dean looks around a moment as if to visually confirm this fact. "What do you …?" Then he understands. It's 2006. Lucifer has not yet risen.

Sam rubs his arms again and Dean wonders what this is about. He meets Sam's gaze, questions him with his eyes.

"I … feel him. In my blood. Like a constant … vibration or something. And now … now it's gone."

Dean didn't know about this. Hasn't thought about Sam's demon blood in a while. And all demons were created by Lucifer, so …

Sam looks down, clearly aware that Dean has made the connections. At one point Dean knows he would've been upset, what he'd be thinking monster even if he doesn't say it. But he's not that righteous bastard any more. He's done things that Sam at his demon-blood-drinking worst can never even imagine.

"Sam." His brother's name comes out harsher than he intended. Dean tries again. Sam has to understand this. "Sam, you and Lucifer have nothing in common. Not blood. Not anything. You are John and Mary Winchester's son." He pauses. "My brother. That's the only blood that matters."

Sam meets his eyes with such nakedness that Dean thinks he should have said this a long time ago. Sam doesn't say anything but for a moment he rests his hand on Dean's shoulder.

Dean nods, shaking the moment off. He wishes things were different but too much of the recent past still sits in his craw. He still doesn't know why Sam walked out after the Cerberus. And this reunion was really an accident, not Sam's choice. He's only here because of Zach's crazy game. When they've figured it out, Sam'll take off again. It's what he always does. For Sam, family are folks you're stuck with until you figure out how to escape. Dean wishes he can be this way. But a wish and two dollars might buy a cup of coffee these days.

Younger Dean saunters out of the Medical Center and jumps in the driver's seat. Even with the pills Dean's leg is throbbing and he wonders if he'll ever have that cocky walk again. The Impala pulls away. Dean knows he won't be gone long. Remembers that uncomfortable ride with his pistol pointing at the Sergeant the whole way back.

Frustration runs through him. "What's the fucking point? Why'd he bring us here?"

He remembers Sam on the table in the examining room, tears in his eyes. Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you ... You can keep going. Like Dean could ever leave his little brother to die alone.

A deep voice makes them jump. "Dean. Sam."

"Cas?" they both say at the same time. The angel is before them. But he looks wrong. Strained. Almost translucent.

"I don't have much time. My abilities are nearly gone. You have to listen."

"Did Zach send us here?"

"No. Dean, listen, please … Lucifer's servant, Kimaris, sent you here. Lucifer can't kill you, Dean. Not in the present. Michael won't allow it. But here … in the past … you can die."

"The virus?" Sam asks.

"No." Cas looks at Sam. Then, "Yes, in a way. Not from the virus. Sam, you kill Dean."

Sam recoils. "What?"

Dean looks from his brother to the angel. Shaken, he exclaims, "Cas, what are you saying?"

"Kimaris has mutated the virus. Here, now, Sam is not immune. When Sam is infected you refuse, Dean, to kill him. But you cannot refuse. You must do it. Not you … I mean the you who is from this time."

Dean's head spins. What is Cas talking about? Sam is going to kill him because he's no longer immune? His heart starts to race and he moves without thinking and a fiery jolt goes through his leg. He stumbles but Sam stops him from falling.

"Cas. Slow down," Sam says, still supporting Dean. "Explain this."

Cas focuses his unyielding eyes on Sam. "The plan is to have you kill Dean, here, today. Then you will be alone in the future and Lucifer believes you will say yes if Dean is not there to distract you."

Lucifer thinks I'm a distraction? Dean thinks. Odd how that annoys him. Like Sam ever listens to anything Dean says. Ah, if the Devil only knew.

"Go on," Sam says.

"Sam you aren't supposed to be here. Only Dean was sent back by Kimaris. Presumably to watch himself die, Lucifer's twisted idea of closure. However, the amulet links the two of you." Cas looks at Dean, "You disappeared just as I returned it to you."

Dean never believed the hunk of tin ever had any supernatural powers. It meant something to him, sure. But it linked them through time?

Suddenly, Cas staggers.

"Cas, you all right?"

"I am nearly … out of mojo. This has taken too long."

"How long?"

Dean hears the exhaustion as Cas answers. "Two weeks."

Sam stares. "But we've only been here for maybe an hour."

"Time is relative, Sam."

"Yeah, Einstein. Weren't you listening to anything in school?"

Sam glares and Dean manages a smirk which is better than showing the panic he's feeling.

Dean tries to process everything Cas has said. "Okay. Lucifer wants me out of the way. Sam caged the Cerberus, Hell Hounds didn't work, so now he has his henchman shoot us back to the past where Sam … this year's Sam, will go Croat on me and take me out? Young me dies, I go poof? Score one for Lucie. That about it?"

Cas looks at him in that admiring way that always makes Dean feel good. "You have succinctly stated it. Yes."

"So what do we do?"

"You have to convince yourself to kill Sam first."

Dean rubs his face. "See that part … Ain't gonna happen." He tries to remember. Thinks they still have time. "Let's just stop Sam from getting infected. We know where and when it happens."

"You can't. You try. But you fail."

Sam has been quiet. Now he asks Cas, not looking at Dean, "If Dean kills me here, Lucifer will never rise?"

"Sam. No," Dean interjects immediately.

But Cas is already shaking his head. "Lucifer does not risk his vessel. He has made it impossible for you to come to harm. If his plan to remove Dean fails, none of this happens."

Sam nods in a way Dean doesn't like. "Cas is right. You kill me before I kill you and it all resets and at worst we're exactly where we were. Otherwise … If this Sam kills Dean … he stays dead, right?"

Cas nods. Dean doesn't like the way the angel's body is rippling as if Dean's looking at him through waves of heat.

"No," Dean repeats, the degree to which he hates this plan is vibrating in every muscle, every vein, every pore of his body. "Why … why can only the Dean from now do this?"

Sam interrupts, "I'll do it. I'll kill myself here. Then it'll reset like you—"

"That will not work," Cas says.

Dean stares at the angel. "Cas, what's going on?"

"In the future, where you were, you are dead, Dean. You have been dead since 2006. Only I know that this isn't right."

Sam looks at Cas with alarm. "You mean, it works … Lucifer's plan … This. It works?"

"Yes. I have been trying to change it. I have told you this exact information many times. You have tried many ways to stop it. This is the only plan left. This Dean must kill this Sam before he kills him. Only then will the reset include you, Dean."

"What if I do it, Cas? I mean me, me," Dean asks harshly.

"You tried that. You have tried every possibility, every combination, except this one. None have worked. This is the last choice."

Sam looks away and down. Dean fights the tremors shooting up his leg and through his back. He remembers the examination room, Sam asking for his gun, telling Dean to leave … he couldn't do it then, he can't do it now. And now he has to convince himself to pull the trigger? Even knowing about Hell and Ruby and Lilith and the Apocalypse … Protecting Sammy is his life. How can he be expected to kill his little brother?