Okay, so it's been a couple of days since I updated and as an apology, this chapter is longer than usual :P

Unfortunately, still not much plot (Sorry Tashiya) but some of the stuff mentioned is kind of important. Plot is really not my strong point, I'm kind of slow at getting to the actual point of things, sorry, just bear with me :P there will be some action soon, promise ^.^

This chapter is dedicated to: theconsultingtardisbananaangel because I loved your review and I love your name, just wondering where does the 'banana' bit come from? I think I figured out the rest as Sherlock, Dr Who and Supernatural but I'm stuck on banana :P
Thank you for your review ^.^

I still don't own Supernatural :(

Enjoy :D

Dean was holed up in an internet café, scouring the web for any mention of an overnight success nearby, ten years ago to the week. Or the fortnight. There were a couple of likely targets, a doctor who hadn't lost a single patient in ten years in Tallulah, an author who had mysteriously recovered from cancer and sold over two million copies of his book worldwide in Brookhaven and a musician in Prattville who had become a sensation ten years ago and hadn't had any unpopular songs since. Dean thought that the latter sounded promising, after all, it seemed the most selfish of the options, and people tended to sell their souls for selfish stuff rather than for the greater good. Prattville it was. He drained his coffee and left.

Back in the impala, Dean carefully selected his music choice.

'Sweet home Alabama' seemed appropriate. He laughed and then glanced at the passenger seat and his laughter faded. He turned back to the road and started the engine. It was going to be a long four hours. He couldn't risk breaking the speed limit and getting a record on the car, Sam would be looking. He wished Cas was there to help lighten the mood, but the angel was terrible at being deliberately funny and anyway he was probably busy. He couldn't pray for him just 'cause he was bored. Well. He suppose he could but Cas wouldn't be too happy with him if he did.
It occurred to him suddenly that he hadn't asked Cas how the angel trials were going. Not that he cared of course. It's not like he was going to miss Cas when he locked himself inside Heaven. Not at all. He let out a wry smile. He wasn't even trying to convince himself. Cas meant more to him than just a random dick of an angel. He had saved their asses more times that he could count, even when they were fighting and it would have been easier for him to just let them die. He had pulled Dean up from Hell, twice; the second time simply because he cared. Dean hummed along to the music as he drove. Cas had kinda become like a security blanket for him. Just an extra, reliable weapon to fall back on when his original plan went to shit. He'd miss that.

XXX

Castiel glanced through the local library records and found a promising section. After flipping through the pages of each of them he sighed and just sat, staring into nothing, admiring the dust motes that drifted and swirled in the air around him. This search was useless, it was slow and unrewarding. Sam was always much better at research, but Castiel usually knew all of the answers. It was so frustrating to have to actually search for something.

He tried several more libraries before conceding defeat. Metatron probably knew of a way out of this for Sam and Dean. A way to shut the gates of Hell without having to give up their lives in the process. It wasn't like he could ask around in Heaven and Metatron was the only angel he could talk to ... that he hadn't killed. He felt a pang of guilt for Balthazar. He had been full of hubris and pride at that time, he was no longer. He had killed a good friend, and he regretted it. Just like he regretted Rachel. She had been right all along and he should not have killed her. Not to mention Raphael's followers who had been misguided rather than evil and did not deserve to die.
He had done a lot of wrong in the short time of his power. Even his penance in Purgatory did not completely erase his guilt. But the Winchesters had forgiven him, even if he had not forgiven himself. For that alone he must find a way to save Dean. If he couldn't ... then he would have to bring him back from Heaven. But he was unlikely to be able to. He would probably be killed if he was discovered in Heaven. There were a lot of angels out to get him. For the angel tablet if nothing else. They didn't know that he had given it the the prophet Kevin Tran.

He closed the heavy tome before him and thought hard, trying to come up with another idea, anything that might mean that neither Dean nor Sam (for there was going to be a fight between which of the brothers actually completed the tasks) would have to give up their lives in exchange for all Hell-spawn to be sucked back into the pit. Then it came to him and suddenly he was in Bobby's house. If anyone would have the books he needed it was Bobby. He rolled up the sleeves of his trenchcoat and grabbed the first book he saw. This could take a while.
As he scanned, he thought of the brothers. He wondered which would 'win' and complete the trials. He was hoping for Sam although he was helping Dean, even if he couldn't find a way, and one of the brothers ended up in Heaven, at least Sam would be happy and at peace there. Dean would be one of the very, very few who was unhappy in Heaven. Although his memories were his paradise, his happy ones were rather limited, most of them involving a young Sam or his mother, both of which were tinged with sorrow.
Dean had tried to protect Sam from everything, keeping him in the dark about what their father did for as long as possible. He had never wanted this life for his brother. Especially with the way that turned out. Cas frowned slightly, Dean was certainly unusual, unhappy in Heaven. Dean was so alive that he just wouldn't like being dead, unable to save people or hunt things. That was just who he was.

On the other hand, Sam's motivations for the sacrifice were less pure. He was offering himself because he was expected to, and he would seem selfish if he didn't. Oh, he would follow it through, no doubt, but Sam's love for Dean was decidedly less obsessive than Dean's protective love for Sam. Castiel agreed with Dean that Sam would be able to move on and live without Dean, while Dean would be lost without Sam. If things came to a more ... permanent end. Cas frowned at that thought and shook himself. He didn't really want to think about that.

XXX

Sam hotwired a car and drove. He followed the tracks the impala had made in the dirt from the bunker but when they hit an actual road the trail was lost. He kept driving. Dean had been gone for a couple of days now and he had a good idea of where he had gone. He had researched people who had had a sudden stroke of genius or luck ten years ago to the month. Dean would pick one close at had so that narrowed it down to a fortnight. Of which there were only three, all roughly in the same direction, Brookhaven, Prattville and Tallulah, presumably they had all dealt with the same demon seeing as they were pretty close. Maybe while dragging Dean back from this suicide hellhound mission, he might be able to grab the demon along the way. If the demon showed of course, crossroads demons tended to leave the whole repayment part of their deals to the dogs, but he might get lucky. As serious as he knew their situation was, Sam couldn't help but be in a good mood. Dean was being Dean and he would say a few soothing words and let him take the fall, then Dean would probably beg Cas for a favour and Cas would bring him back.

That was the thing, having died so many times before, he wasn't exactly scared. He knew that Dean would find a way to bring him back, no matter what he promised to him beforehand, so he didn't get the big deal that Dean was making out of this. Besides, even if he didn't come back then he'd be in heaven with Bones and Thanksgiving and freedom and all his other happy memories that Dean just didn't understand.
And would that be so bad? He dared to think that Ash would find him and he could spend his days hanging out at the Roadhouse with him and Pamela and maybe even Bobby, Ellen and Jo if Ash had found them. So he wouldn't exactly be lonely. And Cas could probably pop in and relay him info about Dean and they could keep in touch through him. And that didn't feel bad to him. In fact, he was cheerful at the prospect. Once he did this, the gates of Hell would be closed, the demons would all be gone and he would be in Heaven with the people he loved, at least for a little while until Cas came to rescue him before he locked the gates of Heaven for good. Depending on how his angel trials went of course.
And things would be the same for Dean, right? If he somehow failed to drag his brother back to the batcave and Dean managed to finish the trials, then he would just have to bide his own time in Heaven 'till Cas went for him. And Dean could be at peace there, even if it was just for a little while. Dean deserved that much, didn't he? Just a little bit of happiness for himself after all that he had given to the world at large.

Sam thought about the cases as he drove, which one would Dean pick? He didn't really have to worry about that for another ten or so hours but it would be good to plan ahead, and figure out the quickest routes between all three places in case he picked the wrong one. The soonest debt was due in Brookhaven, which was in two days exactly. Sam urged the car faster. It was the most likely one, after that was Prattville and then Tallulah. But Dean would want this over fast, he was never really one to plan.

XXX

Dean pulled into a gas station about three and a half hours later to fill up his baby, grab some snacks and empty his bladder. From there he found a motel and checked into a room under the name 'Carl Simmons'. Not the most fun of alias' perhaps but he figured that Sam would be looking out for any of his other ID's, and yes, so he had a couple of extra cards that Sam didn't know about, just in case, was it so bad to plan for everything? Dean stumbled into his room (on the third floor but still near the fire escape) and practically collapsed onto the bed. He was just outside the town of Prattville (quite fitting, he thought sourly, that guy at the desk was a total douche bag) In the morning he would begin the search for Austin Reymes, the small-town musical wonder. His music wasn't so popular that he would be hard to get to, it was just regular-popular. Which made the guy rich but not famous, maybe that had been part of the deal. Whatever, he had four days to find the guy and gank his canine debt collector. Avoiding Sam while he did so. Maybe he could ask Cas to obscure his trail a bit or something. He'd figure it out tomorrow, right now, he needed to sleep.

So what do you guys think? Please don't hurt me due to lack of plot. I tried to make it contemplative and give you a lot to think about.

Honestly I have no idea where this is headed so any theory at all could be right about now xD I daresay I'll figure it out eventually :P

Please let me know what you guys think :)

Love Tibbins xx