AN: Okay! So here's the thing...I have an ending for this. Except it's a bit off my original plan (when I say a bit, I mean a lot). This is no longer speculative, this is a complete AU - I finally accept the inevitable :P ALSO in light of the ending and how the story's progressed so far, I am considering changing the title to, A Change in the Sky (I might change the title after I publish the whole story). I think there may be another three chapters left :)

THREE WEEKS AFTER THE ANGELS FELL

The petulant whine came from just outside the library.

"Dean really five minutes isn't going to kill me!"

Sighing, Dean turned to look at Kevin's progress with the angel tablet, wincing at the muffled curse and heavy breathing before turning to face his pale brother. Lifting an eyebrow, he responded with: "You don't know that."

Sam flung a hand out, still waiting at the top of the step. "I just want to walk outside! I feel like I'm going crazy in here."

"Sammy."

Bitch-face number 28.

"Don't Sammy me, Dean, that's manipulation and you know it." Sam said. He was getting tired of constantly being handled with what he perceived to be kids gloves. He had half a mind to get into a bar fight just to piss Dean off, though self-preservation and the fact that he'd be laid out on his ace in three seconds flat was enough to dissuade him.

"In this case yeah it is. Humour me, alright?"

Sam let out a frustrated huff. "I've been humouring you for days now."

"And your material still sucks."

"Oh, fuck you."

Releasing a frustrated breath, Dean stalked towards Sam, finger ready to poke at Sam's chest if need be. "Sam. You shake all the friggin' time. And don't think I haven't noticed your eating habits. Heck, get from your room to the library without stumbling and looking like a vamp drained your blood." He poked in Sam in the chest belatedly, each stab punctuated with the words. "You. Will. Not. Walk. Outside. Or. I'll. Kill. You. Myself."

"You kill me, then all the worry's for nothing." Sam pouted.

Bloody little brother. "It's never for nothing." Straightening up, he cleared his throat, "Now that we've pandered-"

'"Ooh, big word. You sure you know what it means?" Snarky Sam. Friggin' fantastic.

"-to your womanly need for heart to hearts, I'm going to make us some food." He received a mumbled 'fuck you', in reply. Foolishly expecting Sam to have been heeded his words and returned to bed, he entered the kitchen already thinking of the best combination of ingredients to make a kick-ass steak.

Fact of the matter was that Sam was healing up pretty well all things considered. Rory's check-ups had petered out as Sam grew stronger – the doctor both happy for the recovery, but suspicious as well. He had taken Dean aside, slightly panicked when he found no trace the internal damage – the organs looked good, bones were no longer broken and most importantly, the little piece of demon had seemingly vanished, as if Sam's body had actually managed to break down the foreign invader. Dean made sure to widen his eyes at this, clapping Rory on the shoulder and waiting for the rest of it. Rory's final comments revolved around smaller issues, an infection that was still there and the fact that Sam was still weak as a kitten. Dean could only smile tightly at Rory's incredulous stare and repeated denials of: "I don't know what I did, because my intent should not have worked that well."

Though the visits had slowed, Rory's phone calls had been like clockwork, once every two days. He had told Dean about his research into Sam's recovered state and managed a half choked whisper of 'God' to which Dean cursed and told Rory that those sort of thoughts were ridiculous and not to be shared with anyone on pain of death.

Steaks in hand he went to the counter, and minutes later heard the fridge door open. Kevin was searching through leftovers. "You want a steak?" he asked turning to watch the prophet as he dried his hands.

Looking up over the door of the fridge, Kevin nodded, pulling out a water bottle, closing the door. Unbeknownst to Dean, from his vantage point he could see Sam plastered to the wall as he tried to steady his coltish legs. Clear determination set on his face as he made to walk down the stairs. "Uh, Dean? I think Sam's going somewhere."

Food forgotten Dean walked very 'calmly' out of the kitchen. "Sam!" he barked taking in the sheen of sweat on Sam's face and the shallow breathing. There was a spark of satisfaction watching his brother's brown eyes widen in surprise, just like they had when Sam was seven and had found Dean's knife under the pillow. He had panicked, shoving it haphazardly behind him leaving the handle sticking out behind his knee. Same guilty expression. If Dean wasn't so pissed, he would have properly relished the look. "I thought I told you to stay put?"

The surprise morphed into a trademark bitch-face. "Yeah? I'm not a dog and you told me not to walk outside. I'm not gonna get better if I stay in bed!"

You defiant little shit, he thought gripping Sam's upper arm and practically dragging him the rest of the way. "You polish off a full plate and I'll walk around with you-"

"C'mon man-"

"Non-negotiable Sam. Either I'm walking with you or I'll strap you to the bed." He dumped him into the chair, hand already against Sam's forehand before the younger could protest.

"Hey Sam," Kevin greeted.

"Traitor." Sam spat. Surprised at the sharp word, Dean pinched Sam's arm hard, trying to quell his frustrations at Sam's oscillating emotions. "Sorry," he bit out before deflating. "Crap, sorry Dean. I just…"

"Yeah man, I know. I'm going to go finish up dinner, can I trust you to sit tight, or am I gonna have to leash you like parents do these days with those backpacks?" Dean said walking away.

Sam glared at Dean's retreating back. "So, how's the tablet translation going?" he said attention turning to Kevin. The prophet eyed him warily. "I ain't gonna bite," he mumbled eyeing the tablet over the edge of his arm.

In what sounded like, 'Dean's gonna kill me', Kevin pushed the paper in Sam's direction.

"'Metatron could never write for shit'?" Sam's brows furrowed at the words. "You're kidding me."

"Nope."

It had to be a mistake. Thumbing the paper he reread the words. "Are you sure?"

Kevin looked at him. "I'm like, 'Balthazar was in my room and told me' sure."

For the love of God. "Wait Balthazar's still alive?" Balthazar? Really?

"So is Gabriel." Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. Lucifer had killed him; Lucifer had killed everyone in that stupid motel. God, how much had he really missed out on? Kevin looked uncomfortable for a moment and continued with, "He's my archangel protector."

He couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, you poor bastard."

"Tell me about it."

"Okay, so…if they're both alive, what are they doing? Where have they been the whole time?"

"Balthazar said that Gabriel's hiding."

Nothing new there.

"Well that's just great." Sam said, hands pressed against his face.

Dean walked in placing a bottle of water near Sam's elbow. "What's great?" he asked, before catching a glimpse of the paper. "Hell no. Kevin, I thought I told you…" he trailed off, clearing Sam's end of the table from anything remotely tablet related.

Sam looked up – frown tugging the corner of his mouth. "Told me?" He glared. "You're gonna keep me in the dark about this!" Hackles beginning to rise, he stood up, shoulders rolling back. It was just like Dean to do this. Granted it stemmed from some bizarre concept of 'What Sam doesn't know can't hurt him' which Sam managed to find endearing only a handful of times.

"I'm not keeping anything from you." Dean replied.

For a moment something akin to guilt flashed through Dean's green eyes. What the hell are you hiding? "I'm weak, not stupid." A triumphant smirk crossed Dean's face. Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine. Yeah I'm a bit tired. And my diet's not up to anything, but I'm not useless man. I can still help." He looked Dean straight in the eye. "Don't keep me out of the loop."

Dean nodded once, and pointed towards Kevin. "You are so dead."

Kevin looked at Sam. "Told you."

"So tell me – everything." Sam sank back into his chair.

"Fine. Sit tight." Dean motioned Kevin to follow him. "Grab stuff from the kitchen." Out of Sam's earshot, he handed Kevin a bowl. "We aren't telling him everything."

"I figured," Kevin sighed.

Later in the week, once he had made sure that he hadn't accidently sent a virus to all their computers via e-mail (Charlie had laughed at him), made sure that Kevin went outside and had some fresh air (Kevin hadn't been outside the bunker in a few days – Dean thinks he's forgotten that the sky is blue) and forced Sam to eat something (Sam bitch-faced every meal he saw – the kid was going for a record, he was sure of it), he went down to the basement.

"We need to talk," Dean said, doors pushed open behind him. The smell of stale sweat permeated through the air.

"Dean. What a lovely surprise." Crowley began, "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Yeah, that's nice. Listen, as I said. We need to talk?"

"About?"

"You."

"Oh, I'm just doing peachy here in this dungeon y'all got here," he said, mimicked in a southern drawl.

"Well good, cause you aren't going anywhere. What I want to know is what happens if both sides shut the gate." Visibly, Crowley's back straightened, his interest obviously piqued at this new question. "If Sam finished the trials and shut away hell, then where do all the evil go, likewise for upstairs?"

"Well, if hells shut, then hells shut you moron."

"Same for heaven?"

"And I say again, if heaven's shut, then heaven's shut you moron."

"So earth? What, it just becomes a free for all?"

"You're smarter than you look." Dean never wanted to be complimented by him ever again. "And yes, before you ask. If the demons get the angel tablet then they will try and lock heaven up and drag earth through the hellfire, if heaven gets the demon tablet then earth will be dragged up into the white light of beyond."

"Both of those options are shit." Crowley looked up in surprise. "Don't get me wrong, I'd like nothing more than to waste your kind left right and centre, but, angels are dicks too." Dean tried not to squirm at the complimenting look on Crowley's face.

"You're giving Moose a run for his money - you're not just a pretty face."

"Uh…thanks…I think." Someone kill me now, he thought.

"How are you feeling?"

"You mean am I any more human? Let's see. I'm cold, then I'm hot, and I'm sweaty and it's like the Sahara, and to top it all off, there's still no TV in here."

"Oh, don't worry, we haven't forgotten about your cable."

Crowley changed the subject. "Where's Sam by the way. Thought he would've come and seen me by now."

"He's-"

"Crowley." The demon smirked.

"Right behind me. Sam, I thought you were going to stay upstairs." He turned around, eyes begging for an insight into Sam's ridiculous move to come down here and talk to the asshole.

"Got bored."

He let a little bit of irritation into his voice. "Well, I'm handling this fine."

"Yeah, no doubt."

"Gigantor! You look like shite."

"And you're still honest as ever." Crowley practically beamed at Sam. Sam gave Dean a look of 'holy shit, should I fear for my life'.

Dean was beginning to fear the look a little himself. "He's just happy to see a new face. It's the human in him…I hope."

"How's that going by the way?" Sam asked. He stood straight, shoulders back, head high. There was some tense energy radiating off him, and Dean could tell that he was trying not to cough as he asked his question – show no weakness.

"Same old, same old."

"Feeling any different?"

There was a pause - open ended silence, until it was filled the crisp British voice. "I couldn't trouble you for a pint of blood, could I?"

Fighting the urge to lunge at him and break his wrist, Dean glared with fury. "No way," he said shoving Sam out the door.

AN: So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you soo much for reading/reviewing :) Remember, thoughts, queries, reviews are loved and appreciated.