"He's still the same person, isn't he?" Owen inquired, looking back and forth between Dean and Castiel. "What's the matter? Why is he acting like you're his enemy?"

Dean released such a large sigh, Owen was afraid the man would deflate. "Cas wasn't always the greatest of pals...in fact, he used to be a bag of dicks, like all the angels."

"Oh," Owen said. "I see."

Cas looked sour. "I am a celestial being; I can hear you despite your whispering."

Dean's expression melted into a forlorn look. "Dammit, Cas," he said, making eye contact with the angel, which was difficult. "This shouldn't of happened. You're suppose to be you from the present, or future, or...whatever." He made a disgruntled noise. "Time travel. Fan-freaking-tastic."

"I don't know how I can help you, Dean. I don't even know your situation."

"My situation, Cas, is that this you is not the you I know," Dean said, throwing up his arms in emphasis. His voice seemed too big for the stable's walls, and as its largeness filled up the room, Cas began to feel very small.

Cas frowned in thought. "I'm afraid I still can't help y-"

"Shh." Owen hushed the angel forcefully, and in the prevailing silence it became very clear as to why: footsteps were approaching them, their constant pulse a growing crescendo of noise. Both Dean and Cas stared at Owen, neither daring to twitch the slightest, as the agent stalked to the crack in the wall that served as a window.

"Shit," Owen muttered. He looked at Dean, his eyes wide. "It's you."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

After Sam had rescued him from his two attackers, Ianto was happy to leave the street where he'd nearly been killed. Both men had hurriedly walked to a street that was buzzing with activity, where any suspicious demonic activity would catch the attention of the crowd and a few nearby policemen who sat at a table across the room in the same pub Ianto had brought Sam to. Of course, as Sam had mentioned, the policemen would not be able to stop a demon, but they would be able to slow one down, giving Sam enough time to stick his demon blade into it.

"Here you go, gentlemen," said the waitress, setting their order onto the table between them. "Two beers and a plate of crisps."

"Thank you," Sam said, grabbing one of the mugs and pulling it toward him. The waitress nodded and disappeared back behind the bar, her blonde curls bouncing as she moved. Sam sighed. "Dean would be all over her," he said.

Ianto glanced back at the waitress, who had reappeared with more mugs in her hands. She brought them to a group across the bar, who cheered at the sight of their drinks.

Sam chuckled and looked down at his beer. "My brother, he...he liked to flirt."

Ianto knew someone else very similar. "He didn't seem like the kind of man who takes things slowly when I met him," the agent commented, recalling how Dean had been forced by his brother to walk out of the room for a 'timeout' when he'd gotten a little too violent.

"Sorry about that," Sam said apologetically. "He's not himself."

"Why did the demons you shot want your brother? If I was one of them, I wouldn't want to get on his bad side."

The hunter wearily sipped at his beer. "Dean...wasn't always like this. A demon named Crowley, who also happens to be the king of hell, made him this way to do his dirty work for him. Dean could still see right from wrong, and he refused to help. And now, Crowley won't leave him alone." He forced a laugh. "Demons don't know where he is, and neither do I. It's like he just vanished."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"Talked to him over the phone about two hours ago."

Ianto took a deep breath. "I...I talked to two of the members of my team." He hesitated before continuing. "Jack isn't waking up and Owen is missing."

"Oh my god," Sam said, shifting in his seat. "What happened? Is Jack alright?"

"Don't worry about Jack, he'll live." Ianto remembered how pale the man had looked, lying on the cold medical table inside the Hub. He wondered if Jack had woken up yet, coming back to life with a gulp of air, his chest heaving. It was an image that made Ianto shudder, yet filled it him with hope.

"How did it happen?" Sam asked, his voice heavy with dread. Something had attacked the Torchwood team, a highly skilled, confidential group, and that something had dealt serious damage, which meant it had to be strong.

"Actually," Ianto began, drawing out every second as though trying to avoid finishing his sentence, "they were attacked by Dean."

Sam became disturbingly silent. He stared blankly at Ianto, his jaw quivering slightly. After a long silence, he said in a clipped voice, "I guess it was only a matter of time."

"Tosh and Gwen told me your brother and Owen just vanished in thin air. They thought Dean had made it happen. Did he?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know. I just don't know anymore." He paused. "Dean isn't exactly completely demon. I didn't think he could teleport."

"If he didn't cause their disappearance, then what did?" Ianto thought aloud.

Sam mused. "We came to Wales because we tracked some really weird activity here. Could it be that?"

"You mean the rift?" Ianto asked.

"Huh?"

"There's a disturbance here, a rift in time and space. That's why Torchwood Three is located in Cardiff."

Sam shook his head. "A rift in time and space?"

"Yeah," Ianto agreed. "It's caused loads of trouble, but it can't be fixed. My team and I monitor it, and pick up the mess it makes."

"Well...this is great."

The prevailing silence was disturbed when the waitress returned, bringing with her the sweet scent of perfume that hung in the heavy air around the men. "Can I get you boys refills?" she asked with a smile.

Sam stood, throwing money down on the table. "Thanks, miss, but I have someone I need to find."

"No thanks," Ianto said to her when she turned to him. He tipped her, then rushed out the door to join Sam.

Once again, the rest of the team had been put in harm's way because of his secrecy, which meant he was involved now.

It also meant he had a big problem to fix.