"Dean?" Sam called out as he entered the Bunker. There was no response. He checked the kitchen and the library, which were both rather messy and there was a stale smell of rotting food in the air. Sam had been gone no more than 36 hours and Dean had slobbed out completely. Sam wrinkled his nose and headed down to his brother's room. It was after 12 but that didn't mean Dean wasn't still in bed. He rapped smartly at Dean's door and then tried the handle. Dean was sprawled on his bed, wearing only his shorts and a t-shirt.
"Dean!" Sam barked and his brother blinked his eyes open sleepily.
"Hey, Sam," he slurred. "Wha' time issit?" Sam looked at his watch.
"12:40," he said witheringly.
There was a beat and then Dean added, "Uh, wha' day?"
"Have you spent the last two days drunk?" Sam demanded. Dean closed his eyes again.
"No," he said tiredly. "Yes. Maybe."
"Get up. Take a shower. I'll make you something to eat," Sam told him, worry and irritation warring for dominance inside him. He turned on his heel and left his brother to pull himself together.
Dean groaned in pain. His brother was right, he had drank steadily since Sam had left and his body was letting him know that it did not appreciate being treated in this fashion. He dragged himself out of bed and snagged his robe before slouching down the hall to the bathroom. He stared blearily at himself in the mirror.
"Cas is depending on you," he told his reflection. "Sam's gotta gank Amara, so saving Cas is on you." His reflection grinned at him and Dean started, poking at his face to see if he was smiling without realizing it.
"Is that right?" Dean's reflection said sarcastically. "You're going to save Cas. You."
"Shut up," Dean said.
"You can't save Cas. You can't even save yourself. Sam sure doesn't need you anymore. Why do you even bother?" The reflection continued to taunt him. Dean's head swam, what the fuck was going on? "And what is Cas going to say about you and Lucifer doing the horizontal tango?" Dean's gorge rose, he'd been trying not to think about that.
"I thought it was him," he growled and his reflection laughed at him.
"You think that makes it better? Hey Cas, sorry I banged your brother, I didn't notice he wasn't you. Oh, I'm gonna need some popcorn for that." This was ridiculous, why was he arguing with himself in a mirror. Was he losing his mind? "Losing implies there's something left. You climbed on board the crazy train a long time ago!" The reflection kept laughing at him, loud and manic until Dean could stand it no longer and he drove his fist into the mirror, shattering glass and blood everywhere.
Sam poked through the cabinets and the fridge, looking for something he could turn into a nutritious meal for Dean. There wasn't much to work with, but he found some eggs, cheese and vegetables he could throw together into an omelet. That would have to do until Sam got more groceries. He whisked the eggs together in a glass jug and had just started slicing up a tomato when he heard a yell and a smashing sound. He dashed out of the kitchen, the knife still in his hand.
"Dean!" He cried out. His brother's room was empty, so Sam continued on to the bathroom. The door was locked but he could hear Dean inside, muttering to himself. He hammered on the door and after a moment, he heard the lock click and the door opened slowly.
"Dean?" Sam's eyes opened at the mess of broken glass on the floor and the blood dripping from Dean's hand. "Dean, what the Hell happened in here?"
"I slipped," Dean said sullenly.
"Really," Sam retorted. "You slipped and accidentally punched the mirror. What the Hell, Dean?" He grabbed Dean's hand and swore. There were several tiny slivers of glass embedded in Dean's skin. "Hold still, I'm going to get this glass out of your hand." Dean's face twisted, but he didn't protest. Sam found tweezers, iodine and bandages in the cabinet under the sink. He pointed his chin towards the edge of the tub and his brother perched there dutifully. Sam carefully extracted each tiny shard of glass from Dean's hand and then cleaned the area with the iodine. Finally, he bandaged his brother's hand and then looked at him. Dean looked down at the floor.
"Tell me what's going on, Dean," Sam said and waited patiently as his brother gathered himself together.
"It's probably nothing," Dean said eventually. "I overdid it while you were in South Carolina, and I guess I'm paying the price. I think I started hallucinating." A cold feeling washed over Sam.
"What kind of hallucination," he asked nervously. This was not good.
"I thought my reflection was talking to me," Dean confessed in a low voice.
"Oh," Sam said idiotically. There wasn't much he could say to that. Nothing good, anyway. "What did it say?" Dean sighed.
"Nothing really. Just taunted me about saving Cas. Or rather, not being able to save Cas."
"Ignore it," Sam advised. "It's probably just your guilty conscience." Dean's head whipped around so fast, Sam was surprised it didn't make an audible sound.
"Why would I be feeling guilty?" Dean snarled at him and Sam instantly regretted opening his big mouth.
"I just mean, uh, that neither of us noticed that Lucifer had taken possession of Cas," he said lamely. Dean glared at him, but could hardly deny it.
"Yeah, well, OK. You're probably right," he acknowledged. Sam clapped him on the shoulder.
"Go use the other bathroom while I clean up in here," Sam said, keeping his tone light and easy. "I'll make you something to eat once you've had a shower."
After sweeping up the broken glass, Sam went back to the kitchen. He wrapped the broken glass in thick layers of newspaper before placing them in the trashcan and then returned to chopping vegetables. When Dean appeared, pale and damp, he gave him a bright smile.
"Omelet work out OK for you? We haven't got much in the way of groceries. I'll go to the store later, but I'm hungry now and you look like you could do with some real food." Dean nodded and made his way over to the coffee pot. He emptied the machine, slowly and carefully, as though he didn't trust himself to move any faster. Sam kept quiet and let Dean regain his equilibrium.
"You know, don't you?" Dean said bitterly, making Sam's head come up in alarm.
"Know what, Dean?"
"About me and Cas. Except, it was Lucifer all along." Acid etched Dean's words and Sam's world tilted on its axis slightly.
"Uh, yeah. I… it was impossible not to hear, Dean. Sound carries pretty well down here." Sam said softly, hating the way his brother's shoulders tensed.
"And?" Dean prompted.
A line appeared between Sam's eyes as he squinted at Dean in confusion. "And what?" he asked, unsure where Dean was going with this.
"Aren't you going to yell at me? Tell me I was stupid, tell me what a big mistake I made, what a fucking hypocrite I am after tearing you a new asshole over Gabriel and Lugh?" Dean kept his gaze on the coffee machine as he spoke.
"No, Dean," Sam replied simply. "Because I don't think any of those things. I've been waiting for you and Cas to get a clue since the day we all met. Honestly? I was glad. Until we found out it was Lucifer instead."
"I should have realized," Dean said, his head hanging down in defeat. "How could I not have seen it?"
"We both should have seen it. It's on us, no question," Sam agreed. "But Lucifer is the most manipulative son-of-a-bitch there is. There's no shame in being fooled by him, Dean. Trust me, I know that better than anyone." Dean pressed the switch on the coffeemaker, and turned to face Sam. His eyes shimmered and Sam began to feel the stirrings of real concern.
"What am I going to do, Sam?" His brother asked brokenly. "What the fuck am I going to do?"
"You're going to save him," Sam told him firmly. "Never doubt that. We'll find a way. You'll find a way."
"Yeah? And what then? What am I going to say to him? What if he can't forgive me for what I've done?" Dean's voice cracked alarmingly and Sam moved over and placed one hand on his shoulder. Dean was quivering with suppressed emotion, and Sam felt tears pricking the back of his own eyes. What a fucking mess.
"He'll forgive you," Sam assured Dean with a confidence he didn't feel. Actually, he wasn't certain Cas wasn't going to be pissed at Dean, but surely he would understand. And if he didn't, maybe he could ask Gabriel to have a word or something. Like Gabriel's gonna do favors for you, his brain supplied helpfully. Sam ignored it.
"Do you want to come to the grocery store with me," Sam asked his brother a few hours later. Dean looked up from his morose contemplation of his hands.
"Yeah, sure. But only because you always forget the pie," Dean said with the air of one much put upon. Sam rolled his eyes.
"One time," he argued. "I forgot one time and you never let me hear the end of it."
"Yeah? And what about the time you brought cake? What was that?" Dean shot back.
"There wasn't any pie. None. So I got the next best thing," Sam defended himself.
"In what universe is cake anything like as good as pie?"
"The universe in which there was no fucking pie!" Sam yelled. "Jerk!"
"Bitch!" Dean snapped back and then started laughing. Sam was red in the face and after a moment of staring furiously at his brother, he began to laugh as well.
"Ah, your face," Dean howled. "The cake thing gets you every time."
"Fuck you," Sam said good-naturedly. "That cake was pretty good."
"Maybe," Dean allowed as he dug his keys out of his jeans. "But it was no pie." They bickered all the way to the grocery store and Sam felt strangely happy with it. It was normal after all, and normal had been in short supply recently.
Sam loaded the cart with fruit, vegetables, lean meat and yogurt. Dean threw coffee, soda, chips, candy and of course pie in after them. They tussled briefly over the bread, Dean insistent on the soft white loaf and Sam preferring the whole wheat, but in the end he let Dean win.
"Ain't this cute," said a familiar voice and Sam whirled around to see Gabriel perched on a pile of soda cans.
"Look at you, little Pepsi angel," Dean said in amusement.
Gabriel snarled at him. "I didn't come here to be insulted," he said, seeming wounded.
Dean laughed. "You don't know me very well then," he commented. "Sam, I'm gonna go find some cheese while you flirt with your boyfriend." And with that parting shot, he wandered off to the dairy aisle.
"Nice," Sam said in irritation. He turned his attention to Gabriel, who had a strange expression on his face.
"I'm sorry about Dean," he apologized. "Sometimes his sense of humor gets the better of him."
Gabriel shrugged. "I don't care what he thinks," he said easily. "I didn't come here to talk to him."
"What do you need?" Sam said, wishing he didn't sound so breathless. He really needed to get past this useless pining over Gabriel, the archangel had made his feelings quite clear.
"You remember I said I needed your help?" Gabriel asked, his face serious. Sam nodded. "Well, maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment, but I thought it might be worth asking again." And all the remaining air in Sam's lungs decided to rush out of him. Spots appeared before his eyes. Gabriel forgave him for being an ass? He got a savage smile in response.
"Not really. But I'm biding my time on making you pay for that. I really do need your help."
"OK," Sam agreed. Idiot, he thought. You don't even know what Gabriel wants. It might have been smart to ask first.
"It seems your brain is smarter than you are," Gabriel noted with a grin. "Too late! You've agreed to help, no strings attached!" Sam made a mock protest but as with the other times Gabriel had shown up lately, he was too elated that Gabriel hadn't completely disappeared from his life. Because if anyone was a glutton for punishment it was him.
"Are you going to tell me what you need my help with?" Sam asked. Gabriel waggled his eyebrows at him, and Sam had to swallow hard at the flirtatious look. If the archangel was going to keep this teasing demeanor up, Sam was in trouble.
"It's a little complicated. Something strange is going on and I seem to be the only one who's noticed," Gabriel said seriously. "Somebody's messing with time." Sam stared at him, a cold feeling in his stomach.
"Lucifer?" he asked tentatively.
Gabriel's face twisted as he considered it. "Possibly," he admitted. "But, if it is my brother, I have no idea what he's up to."
"So, what's changed? Can you tell?" Sam asked. Gabriel ran a hand through his hair and Sam had to push down the memory of doing that himself, the feeling of the soft strands against his fingers.
"Who's the president?" Gabriel asked and Sam blinked in surprise at the unexpected question.
"Uh, Barack Obama," he responded. "For another year, anyway."
"Oh," Gabriel said. "That's not different. I don't really keep track of human politics. I thought…" He shook his head. "Wait, for another year? What happens then?"
"Well, there'll be an election," Sam explained. How did Gabriel not know this?"
"Yes, I know that. I mean, you don't think he'll be re-elected?" The archangel looked confused.
"What? Oh no, he can't run again. Presidents are only allowed to serve two terms in the U.S."
The archangel's eyes widened. "That's it!" he exclaimed. Sam gave him a confused look.
"I don't understand," he confessed. "Are you saying he tried to run for a third term in some other timeline? He can't. I think it's in the Constitution."
"No, this should be his first term. Not his second."
Sam gaped at him. "What? Why would Lucifer change that?"
Gabriel shook his head. "I don't know. It might not even be the intended effect. Changing history is hard, ask Dean if you don't believe me. And you never know what the unintended side effects might be."
Sam considered this for a moment. "So, you're saying Lucifer changed something else, that had the side effect of changing when Obama became president?" The archangel nodded. "OK, what else is different."
"I am," Gabriel confessed. Sam frowned at him. "I think I'm supposed to be dead."
"Supposed to be dead?" Sam asked, his world tilting dizzily. "What do you mean?"
"It's hard to explain. But, it makes no sense that I was thrown into Purgatory when my brother stabbed me. It's never happened before, an angel getting sent to Purgatory after death. We don't have souls or anything like that. When we die, our Grace is meant to return to Heaven. And now that I'm back I can feel the universe… is uncomfortable."
"The universe is uncomfortable," Sam repeated in bewilderment. Gabriel made an impatient gesture. "OK, I'll take your word for it. How come you can tell that history's changed?"
"Angels, especially archangels, are placed more loosely in time than humans," Gabriel told him. "We're not totally decoupled from it, like Death or some creatures are. But we have a little… latitude. And we can feel, in broad strokes, when the universe changes. What I don't understand is why none of my brothers and sisters can feel this."
"Well, since Metatron closed the Gates of Heaven, and the angels all fell, things have been… difficult." Sam suggested. "The angels all lost their wings. There are a few things Cas used to be able to do that he can't do now."
Gabriel looked thoughtful. "That might explain it," he agreed. "But I still don't know who's doing this. Or why."
"I thought we agreed it was Lucifer," Sam objected.
"I don't know, Sam. I'm not saying he wouldn't, or couldn't. But this has a subtlety to it that doesn't feel like Luci. I need to investigate further. For now, I'm gonna help you with Amara. Astrid and Lugh were collecting the Treasures of the Tuatha De," Gabriel told him. "You muttonheads found the Spear of Lugh. There's a stone, a sword and a cauldron as well. Together, they might be able to defeat Amara."
"Was that why Lugh was collecting them?" Sam asked, proud of how even his voice was.
"Who knows what Lugh was up to," Gabriel said sourly. "His motives always were opaque, even by my standards."
"So you want us to collect these other items," Sam said thoughtfully. "Was Astrid telling the truth about the leader of the Wild Hunt and the sword?"
"Yes. And no. Nuada's sword is the one you seek. Bhás an Dorchadas is a different sword altogether. Just like the spear you retrieved was the Spear of Lugh, not the Spear of Diomedes."
"I don't understand," Sam admitted. "We used the spear to kill Ate."
"The Spear of Lugh is a very powerful, very dangerous object. In fact, I'm surprised you and Dean survived contact with it."
"We had help," Sam explained. He told Gabriel an abridged version of the hunt in Pennsylvania. The archangel did not look reassured, in fact he looked a little disturbed.
"You're a freak, Sammy. Too many powerful artifacts behave strangely around you," Gabriel commented. Sam flinched. He was used to that epithet from other hunters, but hearing it from Gabriel's mouth hurt a lot. The archangel didn't seem to notice the pain he'd just inflicted.
"I'm working on finding Nuada, now he's no longer leading the Hunt." Gabriel was saying. "The stone's in Ireland of course but I have no idea where the cauldron is. Those Men of Letters knew a lot. Start digging." He snapped his fingers and vanished.
"Aye, aye, Captain," Sam growled and went off to find Dean.
Dean's eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror, he could have sworn he saw something in the backseat. But it was empty. He met his own eyes in the mirror, then flinched away.
I need an answer, Dean, Tenebrae's voice in his ear sounded like stones being scraped together. You've had plenty of time to think about it.
"No," Dean said. "There's just too many things that would be different if we went back now and maybe that future is worse than this one."
You're not serious. Tenebrae said incredulously. Not one but two world-endingly powerful creatures roam the earth, because of you and your moronic brother and things could be worse? How?
"I don't know how," Dean explained. "That's the problem. I'm only human, I can't tell what tomorrow will bring, let alone rewinding the universe."
I see. Well, maybe Sam will be more receptive, Tenebrae said but something in his voice made Dean skeptical.
"Sam's no good to you," he said confidently. "I don't know why, but you need me. Which means all this bullshit about Metatron was exactly that, bullshit."
Nonsense, Tenebrae denied. This is your last chance.
"Nah," Dean said. "I'm good. I'll take my chances."
"Take your chances with what?" Sam asked curiously as he climbed into the car. "Who are you talking to?"
"Nobody," Dean denied. "Let's go."