My Heart Will Go On Part 1

Bobby sat at his desk reading a book. He grabbed his near-empty bottle of whiskey and frowned at it before he down the rest of the amber liquid. He opened up a new bottle, ignoring the fact that Sam and Dean were watching him from the door to the kitchen.

Sam looked at Dean. "Say something." He whispered.

Dean's brows furrowed. "No. You." He whispered back.

Sam shook his head. "No. You."

Angela walked in just as the brothers prepared to play rock-paper-scissors. She rolled her eyes and walked past them. "Children." She muttered as she pulled up a chair and sat across from Bobby. "Bobby, you haven't slept in days." She commented.

Bobby looked up at her, a frown on his face. "I sleep." He muttered. "What are you, my wife now?"

"I'm just saying that you know, taking five might be a good thing," Angela suggested.

"For whom?" Bobby raised a brow.

Sam took a few steps towards the desk. "Look, Bobby, it was…it was tough for all of us, seeing Rufus go like that."

"You think this…This ain't about Rufus." Bobby replied seriously.

"Bobby, he wasn't just a poker buddy." Dean sighed.

"You know when I knew Rufus was done for?" Bobby asked. "The day I met him. The only question was, who first, him or me? Now, you want to stand here and therapize, or do you want to get me some coffee?" He asked. "Make it Irish."

Angela sighed and stood up. The three younger hunters walked out of the study and into the kitchen.

"Well, he's doing fantastic," Dean muttered.

"Yeah, this isn't about Rufus at all," Sam replied sarcastically.

"Well, what do you guys want to do?" Dean asked. "I mean, we can't just sit here and watch him poop out his liver."

"Well, we could get him out of the house," Angela suggested quietly. "There's a job."

"Really?" Dean asked curiously. "What've you got?"

Angela pulled a newspaper clipping out of her pocket. "Look. Chester, Pennsylvania. Three people got kicked off in the last week, all freaky." She explained. "The last guy got karate-chopped by his garage door. And these are all blood relatives."

"What are you thinking, family curse?" Sam asked curiously.

"Could be." Angela shrugged.

Dean nodded. "Hey, grumpy!" Dean yelled to Bobby, who had walked up behind them. "You, uh—

"I don't want to do crap." Bobby interrupted. "Leave me alone. Just, get out of my house, all three of you. You're driving me nuts."

"Bobby." Angela sighed.

"Now!" He snapped, frustrated. "For the love of Pete."

Angela looked at the brothers and just sighed.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela walked towards a black Mustang with two brown stripes going down the middle. The car had the same plates as the Impala. Dean put his bag in through the window and they got in the car.

"You know, maybe we should wait 'til she gets back…" Sam suggested.

"Sam, she just called from the road, said she'd be here in two shakes," Angela replied from the back seat.

"Besides, do you really want to sit around and smell him stew in his juices?" Dean added.

Sam grimaced. "Yeah, yeah. Drive."

~/~\~

Dean, Sam, and Angela investigated the scene. They looked around the garage with their flashlights.

Dean turned on the EMF meter and shook his head. "Not a bleep."

"Well, not a vengeful spirit, then. So, what is it?" Sam asked as he looked around. His flashlight landed on a gold thread on the floor. "Huh."

"What'cha got?" Dean asked as he and Angela walked over.

"What is that, Christmas tinsel?" Angela raised a brow.

"I don't know," Sam muttered. He grabbed a nearby flower pot and rubbed the thread against it. His eyes widened when it left a gold streak. "It's gold."

"You mean, like, gold, gold?" Dean raised a brow.

Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "Why would a handyman have gold just lying around in his garage?"

"I don't know. There is definitely a skeleton in this family's closet." Dean replied. "I mean, accidents don't just happen accidentally." He added. Sam and Angela shot a confused looked at Dean, who rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."

Sam nodded. "Alright. How about I'll go check family records, you two go with the next of kin?" He suggested.

"Yeah. Good idea." Angela replied.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela sat in front of Russo's desk, looking through some pamphlets. Russo stood behind his desk, talking on the phone.

"On the courthouse steps, for the deposition," Russo said. "No, I told you, 3:00 PM. No, my usual fees. I got to go, Ma." He sighed deeply before he hung up the phone. He sat across from Dean and Angela. "I'm sorry, uh, what department?"

Angela set down her pamphlet and smiled. "Genealogy." She replied. "From the university. We're doing a study on local families, and, well, the Russos are—

"Look, sweetheart, I got to tell you, I am extremely busy right now, so get to the point." Russo cut her off.

Dean eyed the man slightly. "Yeah, I-I'm sure you've had a rough week. We, uh, read about the recent tragedies. Your cousins, right?"

"Yeah. It's a shame." Russo shrugged. "But I'm not that close to my family, so, uh…" He sighed. "Is this gonna take long?"

"No." Angela shook her head. "Five minutes. Uh, can you tell us anything noteworthy about the Russos?"

"Noteworthy?" Russo repeated, raising a brow. "No. I mean, not exactly—average, you know, big, from Italy."

"Right." Dean nodded, jotting something down on his notepad. "Uh, was anyone ever killed or maimed in a war or, you know, some other violent thing?"

Russo scoffed and shook his head. "What do you mean?"

"Like…something so dark that it would sully future generations," Angela explained.

Russo's brows furrowed slightly. "Uh…No."

"Good. Good stuff." Dean replied as he kept writing. "Anyone own a slave?"

"What?" Russo asked incredulously.

Dean glanced up at him. "Routine question. Any ties to the Nazi Party?"

Russo's eyes widened. "Excuse me?!"

"Did grandma ever piss off a gypsy?" Dean asked curiously.

"Okay, you know what?" Russo replied as he stood up. "I don't know what kind of study you two are doing, but it's over. Right now. So, if you don't mind—

"Okay." Dean stood up. "I-I'll just cut to the chase. Um, your life is in danger."

"What?" Russo scoffed. "What is that, a threat? Are you threatening me?!"

"No, no, no." Angela shook her head as she stood up. "He's not threatening you, I promise. I-I'm sorry, we'll go, sir."

"I'm just simply saying that if you don't watch your back, you're gonna die." Dean continued.

"Get the hell out of my office! Both of you!" Russo yelled.

"Okay." Dean and Angela replied in unison.

"Now!" Russo roared.

Angela grabbed Dean's hand and practically dragged him out of Russo's office.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were walking on the sidewalk. Angela looked pissed and Dean glanced at her every now and then.

"I can't believe you!" Angela finally snapped. "Did you really have to threaten the man?!"

"When I was saying it, I-I didn't think it sounded like a threat…" Dean defended.

"How did that not sound like a threat to you?" Angela pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly frustrated. Suddenly, her phone rang, and she took a look at the caller ID. "It's Sam." She said as she answered the phone. "Hey, Sam."

"Hey." His voice came through the speaker. "Find anything?"

"Not really." Angela sighed. "Because someone had to go and threaten the guy." She explained, narrowing her eyes at Dean.

"What?" Sam asked, obviously confused.

"Long story," Angela replied. "What about you, what'd you find?"

"Not much," Sam replied. "Great-grandparents born in Calabria. Emigrated in 1912. Been here ever since."

"Seriously?" Angela asked. "Nothing suspicious at all?"

"Ha. Four generations of picket fence." Sam sighed.

"Well, if they didn't do anything, why are they all dying?" Angela asked. "Alright, we'll regroup at the motel." She added before hanging up. Angela went to get in the car, but Dean gently grabbed her hand.

"I'm sorry," Dean said sincerely. "I should've thought about my word choice…"

Angela smiled softly. "It's okay. Sorry I got so angry."

"So, am I forgiven?" Dean asked softly.

Angela's small smile turned into a grin as she nodded. "Yeah, yeah, you're forgiven, you dork."

Dean grinned and leaned down to press a sweet kiss on her lips. "Good. Can't stand when you're mad at me, sweetheart." He replied before they both got into the car.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela entered Anne's empty office. They looked around the room using their flashlights. Dean walked over to her desk and picked up her business card.

"Anne Witting." He read. "You sure she's not a Russo, a second cousin twice removed or something?"

"No, I checked the records twice," Sam replied. "She's not related."

"Well, if this isn't a family curse, then what the hell is it?" Angela asked.

"You got me." Sam sighed. "I got nothing." He added as he flipped through some papers.

Dean looked around and stopped when he spotted a golden thread on the floor. "Hold on." He said as he bent down to pick it up. "Not nothing…" He commented, showing the thread to Sam and Angela.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were in the motel room. Sam was on his laptop and Angela was looking through a book she had snagged from the library. Dean was sitting on one of the motel beds.

Dean held up the gold thread as he talked on the phone. "So, we found another piece of this, I don't know, shiny string."

"Oh, I was afraid of that." Ellen's voice came through the speaker.

Dean's brows furrowed. "Why? What's up?"

"Oh, these so-called accidents—we're seeing 'em nationwide," Ellen explained. "About 75 so far. I got Jo and her crew working on a cluster in California."

"Blood relatives?" Dean asked.

"Some yeah, some no. She's got about what you do— a pile of bodies and a whole bunch of gold thread."

"So, what's it mean?" Dean asked.

"I don't know." Ellen sighed. "I got Bobby working on it right now."

"How's he doing, by the way?" Dean asked as he got up to get something to eat.

"Oh, don't worry," Ellen assured. "I'm kicking his ass back to health and happiness. He'll be okay."

"Are you okay?" Dean asked.

"Aw, honey, you're sweet," Ellen replied. "You know me. I just worry about you three."

Dean sat back down on the bed. "Yeah, well. Alright, so, all these corpses, anything relate 'em?"

"Well, actually, I did dig up one thing," Ellen replied. "I just don't know what to make of it."

"Hit me." Dean shrugged.

"Well, it's a weird one, and it was buried pretty deep, but Bobby and I were combing through the family trees on all the victims, and we started seeing, well, the families all came over to America the same year," Ellen explained.

"Hmm." Dean hummed.

"Yeah. 1912." Ellen replied. "But, here's the weird part. They all came over on the same boat."

Dean's brows furrowed slightly. "Really?"

"Yep."

"Alright, so what's so special about the boat?" Dean asked.

"Nothing." Ellen sighed. "It was a boat. It did what boats do."

"What was it called?" Dean asked.

"The Titanic." She replied. "Did you ever hear of it?"

"No." Dean sighed.

"Yeah, me neither. I'll keep digging."

"Alright," Dean replied before he hung up. He turned to face Sam and Angela. "Does the name Titanic ring a bell?"

"Titanic?" Angela asked. She paused for a moment to think and she shook her head. "No."

Sam looked up the Titanic on his laptop and sighed. "The RMS Titanic was the largest passenger steamship in the world when it made its maiden voyage across the North Atlantic in 1912." He read.

Dean shrugged. "So, what's the big friggin deal? It's a ship. It sailed."

"Yeah, I don't know," Sam replied. "Um…Oh, looks like there was a close call. Ship almost hit an iceberg."

"Almost? So?" Angela raised a brow.

"So, uh, looks like the first mate spotted it just in time," Sam said.

"Good for him." Dean shrugged. "There anything else?"

Sam's eyes widened slightly. "Wait a second."

"What?" Angela asked curiously.

"Uh, the first mate." Sam chuckled. "Mr. I. P. Freely."

Dean sat up. "Well, that's not suspicious. You got a picture of old Freely?"

Sam scrolled down to find the photo. His brows furrowed and he groaned. "Oh, you got to be kidding me."

Dean got up to look at the photo and Angela scooted her chair so that she was next to Dean.

"Let's see," Dean mumbled as he looked over the photo. His face visibly fell. "Balthazar."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela performed the summoning ritual and waited. The lights started flickering and suddenly Balthazar appeared.

"Boys, Angela." Balthazar greeted. "Whatever can I do for you?"

Dean turned around angrily. "We need to talk."

"Oh, you seem upset, Dean," Balthazar replied.

Angela rolled her eyes. "The hell with the boat, Balthazar?"

Balthazar's brows furrowed. "What boat?"

"The Titanic." Sam snapped slightly.

"Oh." Balthazar nodded. "The Titanic. Yes, well, uh, it was meant to sink, and I saved it."

"What?" Sam frowned, confused.

"Well, it was meant to bash into this iceberg thing and plunge into the briny deep with all this hoopla, and I saved it." Balthazar shrugged. "Anything else I can answer for you?"

"Why?" Angela asked.

"Why what?"

"Why did you un-sink the ship?" Dean asked impatiently.

"Oh, because I hated the movie." Balthazar shrugged.

Dean's brows furrowed. "What movie?"

"Exactly." Balthazar laughed.

Angela pursed her lips slightly. "Wait, so you saved a cruise liner because—

"Because that God-awful Celine Dion song made me want to smite myself!" Balthazar defended.

Sam frowned. "Who's Celine Dion?"

Balthazar shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, she's a destitute lounge singer somewhere in Quebec, and let's keep it that way, please."

"Okay, I didn't think that was possible," Angela replied. "I thought you couldn't change history."

"Oh, haven't you noticed?" Balthazar asked. "There's no more rules, sweetheart."

Sam scoffed and shook his head. "Wow. The nerve on you. So, you just, what, un-sunk a giant boat?"

"Oh come on!" Balthazar exclaimed. "I saved people. I thought you loved that kind of thing."

"Yeah, but now those people and their kids and their kids' kids, they must have interacted with…with so many other people, changed so much crap!" Sam yelled. "You totally Butterfly-Effected history!"

"Dude. Dude." Dean cut in. "Rule on, no Kutcher references."

"Ah, yes." Balthazar sighed. "Unfortunately, there's still an Ashton Kutcher. And you still averted the Apocalypse, and there are still Archangels. It's mostly small details that were changed, well, except the fact that Dean and Angela are dating in this timeline, that's a pretty big one…" Balthazar explained. "But, you three don't drive an Impala, and of course, Ellen and Jo are alive!" he added as he walked to pour himself a drink.

The three hunters looked at each other, confused at all the information they received.

"Ellen and Jo?" Dean asked. "What?"

"Yes, they're supposed to be dead. You see, I saved a boat, one thing leads to another, which leads to another thousand things, and yadda, yadda, yadda." Balthazar explained. "To cut a long story short, they don't die in a massive explosion." He added as he took a drink. "Mmm. Anyway, let's agree I did a good thing. One less Billy Zane movie and I saved two of your closest friends."

"But, now somebody is killing the descendants of those survivors," Sam replied.

"And?" Balthazar asked.

"And that's maybe like 50,000 people," Sam added.

"And?" Balthazar repeated.

"And we need to save as many as we can, but we need to know who's after them," Angela explained.

"Oh, uh, sorry. You have me confused with the other angel—you know, the one in the dirty trench coat who's in love with you." Balthazar sassed. "I… don't care." He smiled before he took another sip. "Goodbye."

Balthazar disappeared, and Dean groaned angrily.

"Whoa, whoa, wait, wait, wait. Son of a bitch!" Dean yelled.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela all sat together on one of the motel beds. Angela had her head resting against Dean's shoulder. Dean had Bobby on speaker.

"So, Balthazar un-sank a boat, and now we got a boatload of people who should never have been born." Bobby's voice came through the speaker.

"Yeah. Like, 50,000." Angela sighed.

"Makes sense," Bobby replied.

Sam's brows furrowed. "How does any of this make sense?"

"Because I got an idea who we're up against."

"What?" Dean asked.

"Fate," Bobby replied.

Dean frowned. "You mean—

"I mean Fate, like the Fates." Bobby cut him off. "Or one of 'em at least."

"You mean like Greek mythology?" Angela asked. "Like the sisters?"

"Bingo," Bobby replied.

Dean looked at Angela and smiled slightly. "You are one cute nerd, you know that?"

Angela blushed and smacked Dean's chest lightly. "Stop." She smiled.

"Anyway." Bobby cut in, breaking the moment. "These ladies are responsible for how you go down, literally. So, if you get creamed by a garage door or crunched by a copy machine, they're the ones who hammer out the details of how you die. Spin out your fate on a piece of pure gold."

"Gold thread." Sam nodded.

"And then one of 'em writes it all down in her Day Runner of Death. It's high-level stuff." Bobby explained. "Anyway, it fits. Now we know what Balthazar did. It seems to me that maybe Fate is just trying to clean up the mess."

"So, how do we stop it?" Angela asked.

"How do we stop Fate? Good question." Bobby sighed.

"Well, there's got to be a way," Dean replied.

"Or there ain't," Bobby replied. "I mean, this Fate we're talking about here. You know, the easiest way would be to get that angel to re-sink the boat."

"No." Dean shook his head. "No way. Forget it."

"Big difference between dying awful and never being born, Dean," Bobby replied.

"We are not sinking the boat, Bobby." Dean pressed. "Okay? Don't even think about it."

"Well, okay," Bobby muttered. "What's got your panties in a clench?"

"Nothing," Dean mumbled.

"Try that again?" Bobby replied.

"It…Look, it-it-it doesn't even really matter, but…" Dean trailed off.

"But?"

Dean sighed. "Apparently, a crapload of dominoes get tipped over if the Titanic goes down. And, uh, bottom line, Ellen and Jo die."

There was a long, silent pause between everyone. Sam shifted uncomfortably.

"Okay, you three." Bobby finally said. "Listen up. You make sure…Keep those angels from sinking that boat. Do you understand me?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

"Yes." Dean agreed.

"Of course, Bobby," Angela said softly.

Dean sighed when Bobby ended the call. "Oh, he's bad enough with her. Think how he'd be if she was gone."

"Yeah." Sam sighed. "So, what do we do? I. mean, how do we save 50,000 people?"

"I got no clue…" Angela replied.

"Yeah. We don't even know who they are." Sam scoffed.

"Well, we know one." Dean pointed to Shawn Russo's pamphlet.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were sitting in the Mustang. Dean spotted Russo who was walking with a client who was in a neck brace. Russo soon left the client and walked off on his own.

"That's him," Dean said. "Let's go."

The three hunters exited the Mustang and followed Russo. Russo's phone suddenly rang and he answered it.

"Hello. Yeah. What?" Russo said.

"Mr. Russo!" Angela called.

"I don't care. Send him a fruitcake." Russo replied to the person on the phone.

A man in a car was driving along the road. He took a sip of coffee.

"Shawn!" Dean yelled.

"Who's the judge?" Russo asked.

"Russo!" Dean exclaimed.

"Alright, send him a nice bottle of champagne. But nothing more than 30…"

"Shawn!" Angela called.

"Ah, no. 20 bucks. Believe me, this guy, he owes me."

"Russo, stop!" Dean yelled.

Russo stopped and turned to face Dean, clearly annoyed. The guy driving slammed on his breaks and narrowly missed running over Russo. Russo fell and dropped his phone. Sam and Angela helped him up, and Dean held out Russo's phone.

"Get off of me!" Russo shrugged Sam and Angela off. He glared at Angela and Dean. "And I told you two to leave me alone, didn't I?"

"Look, we're just trying to help you out, okay?" Angela replied gently.

"Help me?!" Russo snapped. "You almost killed me, you lunatic." He added as he snatched his phone from Dean's hand. "Unbelievable." He muttered as he walked away, crossing a street.

"Russo! Hey!" Dean yelled.

"Just be glad I'm not suing your a—

Russo was cut off by a bus slamming him. The three hunters cringed at the scene.

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry that this chapter took so long to get out...I'm gearing up for finals and I'm just a wee bit stressed. Also, I know Dean and Angela being together in this timeline is super cliché, but in the next chapter, it's going to be explained why Dean and Angela could never really be together. I don't know, I thought it'd be an interesting take. I hope you guys like it :)

Also, I'm starting to map out season 7, despite the fact that I'm not finished writing season 6, and I think I know exactly what I want to do for Season 7: Time for a Wedding. Anyway, I'm going to try and get the next chapter up as soon as possible but just bear with me. Love you guys :)

~Emily