Dean had made it to the Century Hotel in Kansas City. He was alone, having not heard from Sam or the girls. Of course that is the way he told himself he wanted it to be, the girls were probably off dating some boys or partying like they were supposed to at their age. At least that is what he hoped. He wanted to call them, to make sure that they were okay, but he knew they would either ignore it, or yell at him. He couldn't blame them, since he had been so harsh, but this was the way it had to be, right?
Sam was a whole other matter, he couldn't be trusted. He had lost all control.
Dean's phone started ringing, bringing him out of his thoughts. He pulled it out of his pocket, not recognising the number, he answered.
"Hello?" Dean's answer was a question.
"Dean." The person on the phone replied.
"Cas?" Dean questioned recognising his voice immediately.
"Hello Dean." Castiel replied
"You got a phone?" Dean asked confused.
"I know where to find the colt." Castiel replied, straight to the point ignoring Dean's question.
"We're talking about the Colt, right? I mean, as in the Colt?" Dean was shocked, surely the colt would have been well gone by now.
"We are." Castiel affirmed.
"Well, that doesn't make any sense. I mean, why would the demons keep a gun around that, uh, kills demons?" Dean questioned. There was no way they would be that stupid.
"What? What? Did—I didn't—I didn't get that." Castiel yelled down the phone, Dean could hear the sound of a truck driving past and started laughing.
"You know, it's kind of funny. Talking to a messenger of God on a cell phone. It's, you know, like watching a Hell's Angel ride a moped." Dean joked
"This isn't funny, Dean. The voice says I'm almost out of minutes." Castiel was very serious, clearly not understanding phones.
"Okay, all right. I'm—I'm telling you, Cas, the mooks have melted down the gun by now." Dean wasn't going to get his hopes up about the colt. It would just let him down even more.
"Well, I hear differently. And if it's true and if you are still set on the insane task of killing the devil, this is how we do it." Castiel was sure of himself.
"Okay. Where do we start?" Dean couldn't ignore it anymore, Castiel seemed very sure of himself, and he had to take any chance he could get to kill the devil so this would be over.
"Where are you now?" Castiel asked
"Kansas City." Dean replied before leaning over to the bedside table and grabbing his room key. "Century Hotel, room 113."
"I'll be there immediately." Castiel went to hang up the phone before hearing Dean continue to talk.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. No, no, come on, man. I just drove like sixteen hours straight, okay? I'm human. And there's stuff I got to do." Dean wasn't in the mood to deal with this right now.
"What stuff?" Castiel sounded angry, as if Dean wasn't allowed to have stuff he had to do.
"Eat, for example. In this case, sleep. I just need like four hours once in a while, okay?" Dean knew Castiel didn't understand, but he couldn't help but be slightly annoyed.
"Yes" Castiel replied agreeing.
"Okay, so, you can pop in tomorrow morning." Dean muttered as if he wasn't sure what to say.
"Yes." Dean nodded hanging up the phone. He just needed to sleep and forget about everything for a while.
….
He was rudely awoken by his phone ringing, he rolled over half asleep, reaching for his phone that was sitting on the bedside table. Without opening his eyes, he put the phone to his ear, assuming that it was Castiel calling him again.
"Damn it, Cas, I need to sleep!" Dean said angrily, his voice hoarse.
"Dean, it's me." The voice on the phone replied. Dean opened his eyes immediately when he recognized the voice.
"Sam?" Dean questioned shocked, before looking at the clock on the bedside table. "It's quarter past four." Dean added, closing his eyes.
"This is important." Sam was serious, Dean sighed sitting up in bed.
"What is it?" he asked, as he stood up, looking for the light switch.
"Lucifer found me, in a dream." Sam replied. This woke Dean up instantly, he sat down on the bed, running his hand over his face; this wasn't good.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked slightly confused.
"He said that I am the one, his vessel, his true vessel." Sam replied. Sam waited for Dean to reply, but Dean didn't know what to say, neither of them could escape it. "He said that it has to be me, that it's always been me." Dean could hear the panic and worry in Sam's voice, but he couldn't trust him.
"So, you're his vessel, huh? Lucifer's wearing you to the prom?" This was the best Dean could come up with.
"That's what he said." Sam replied.
"Just when you thought you were out, they pull you back in, huh, Sammy?" Dean knew that what he was about to do was the best thing for them.
"So, that's it? That's your response?" Sam was shocked and confused at his brother's response.
"What are you looking for?" Dean asked
"I don't know. A—a little panic? Maybe?" Sam's answer became a question. Dean could imagine his face scrunching in confusion.
"I guess I'm a little numb to the earth-shattering revelations at this point." Dean wasn't lying in a way, everything that happened seemed to come back to them.
"What are we gonna do about it?" Sam needed his brother to help him with this. He didn't know what to do.
"What do you want to do about it?" Dean thought that maybe Sam would say yes, as it was he'd been off the bender for a while.
"I want back in, for starters." Sam was serious.
"Sam—" Dean groaned, they couldn't work together, it didn't help anything.
"I mean it. I am sick of being a puppet to these sons of bitches. I'm gonna hunt him down, Dean." Sam's anger seeped through his words at first, before he sighed, his statement becoming an invitation to whether Dean would join him or not.
"Oh, so, we're back to revenge, then, are we? Yeah, 'cause that worked out so well last time." Dean said sarcastically.
"Not revenge. Redemption." Sam uttered.
"So, what, you're just gonna walk back in and we're gonna be the dynamic duo again?" Dean asked raising his eyebrows. Sam had been the one who wanted to go, and he had said himself he wasn't trustworthy.
"Look, Dean, I can do this. I can. I'm gonna prove it to you." Sam tried to convince Dean the best he could, but Dean had already made up his mind. Dean closed his eyes, he didn't really want to have to do this, he loved his brother, but they couldn't trust each other.
"Look, Sam—it doesn't matter—whatever we do. I mean, it turns out that you and me, we're the, uh, the fire and the oil of the Armageddon. You know, on that basis alone, we should just pick a hemisphere. Stay away from each other for good." Dean spoke quietly, as if to soften the blow.
"Dean, it does not have to be like this. We can fight it." Sam argued back.
"Yeah, you're right. We can. But not together. We're not stronger when we're together, Sam. I think we're weaker. Because whatever we have between us—love, family, whatever it is—they are always gonna use it against us. And you know that." Dean could feel the tears welling in his eyes, but he couldn't let them come. He had to convince Sam, and convince himself. "Yeah, we're better off apart. We got a better chance of dodging Lucifer and Michael and this whole damn thing, if we just go our own ways." Dean's words came out quickly, the sooner this conversation was over the better.
"Dean, don't do this." Sam begged. Dean couldn't take it anymore.
"Bye, Sam." Dean quickly hung up the phone and closed his eyes, resting his head on his arm.
….
When Dean woke up the next morning, he found the mattress he'd been sleeping on had been worn down to the springs, he looked around the room confused, to see the whole room was in ruins. He got up and walked to the window. When he looked out he saw the city was in devastation. He made his way downstairs, as he left the motel room and walked around the city, he saw that everything was broken and graffitied on. As he walked down the street he heard something that sounded like glass smashing, going to investigate he found a little girl with a teddy bear in an alleyway. He approached her slowly.
"Little girl? Little girl?" Dean called out as he walked forward but she didn't seem to hear him. "Are you hurt?" he asked when he got no reply. "You know the not-talking thing is kind of creepy, right?" Dean smiled as he kneeled down beside her, before he saw the blood drip down. The girl turned her head towards him, grabbing a shard of glass, she screamed and attacked him. Dean moved out of the way, but the girl came for him again. He managed to dodge her attack before pushing her in the head. The little girl fell straight to the ground. Looking around he saw a large piece of graffiti that read 'Croatoan'. "Oh crap." Dean muttered under his breath, his eyes going wide.
Several people, all most likely infected with the Croatoan virus the same as the girl, came around the corner. Seeing them all Dean backed away slowly, before he started running as the people chased him. He turned a corner, only to find the street was blocked by a chain link fence. He turned around unable to run any further, but there's too many of them. One of the infected people began to walk towards him, but was suddenly shot. Dean turned to see several soldiers had turned up on tanks. He ducked for cover, and made his way into an alley.
Later Dean managed to break through the turned to look back through the fence to see a sign that read 'CROATOAN VIRUS HOT ZONE NO ENTRY BY ORDER OF ACTING REGIONAL COMMAND AUGUST 1, 2014 KANSAS CITY'.
"August first, two thousand fourteen." Dean read his eyes going wide. He had been in two thousand nine when he had gone to sleep. He had to find someone who could explain this. He found a car located on the outskirts, hotwired it and started driving. He had to find Bobby. He pulled out his phone, only to realise there was no service. Sighing he closed his phone and dropped it on his lap. He reached for the radio and turned it on, to hear only static.
"That's never a good sign." Dean muttered turning off the radio. He turned his eyes back to the road, concentrating. The croatoan virus...
"Croatoan pandemic reaches Australia." His thoughts were interrupted by a voice coming from the side of him. Startled he turned to look and saw Zachariah. He rolled his eyes turning back to the road.
"I thought I smelled your stink on this Back to the Future crap." Dean wasn't amused to see Zachariah.
"'President Palin defends bombing of Houston.'" Zachariah ignored Dean's comment, opening up a newspaper and reading from it. "Certainly a buyer's market in real estate. Let's see what's happening in sports. That's right—no more sports. Congress revoked the right to group assembly. What's left of Congress, that is; hardly a quorum, if you ask me." Zachariah continued. Dean stared at him the whole time confused and waiting for him to finish.
"How did you find me?" Dean asked when Zachariah had finally paused.
"Afraid we had to tap some unorthodox resources of late—human informants. We've been making inspirational visits to the fringier Christian groups. They've been given your image, told to keep an eye out." Zachariah explained.
"The Bible freak outside the motel—he, what, dropped a dime on me?" Dean asked, turning to look at Zachariah.
"Onward, Christian soldiers." Zachariah spoke quietly, not really paying attention.
"Okay, well, good, great. You have had your jollies. Now send me back, you son of a bitch." Dean said angrily.
"Oh, you'll get back—all in good time. We want you to marinate a bit." Zachariah smiled, he found this amusing.
"Marinate?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows. What was he a piece of steak?
"Three days, Dean. Three days to see where this course of action takes you." Zachariah explained.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked confused. Angels were never very good at explaining.
"It means that your choices have consequences." Zachariah continued seriously, he picked up the paper, turning it so Dean could see the front cover. "This is what happens to the world if you continue to say "no" to Michael. Have a little look-see." Dean turned to look away, he didn't have time for this. When he looked back at the passenger side Zachariah was gone. Dean drove to Bobby's, hoping for some sort of explanation, since Zachariah had barely given him one. But when he made it there, Bobby's house had clearly been empty for a long time, dust and cobwebs everywhere. He walked through the house, only to see Bobby's wheelchair on its side. When he picked it back up, he saw the bullet holes through the back and the dried blood. Bobby clearly hadn't made it. He opened up a hidden compartment, where he knew they had stored his father's journal. He opened it, flipping through the pages, where he found a photo with Castiel and Bobby and three unidentified men. To the side of them was a sign that read 'Welcome to Camp Chitaqua'. Dean knew this was his best bet.
….
Dean had made it to Camp Chitaqua, having dumped his car a while back so they wouldn't hear him coming. The place was locked up with a large fence, peering in he saw his beloved 67' Impala, smashed up, rusty and covered in debris. He made his way into the camp, sneaking over to where his baby was, and peered inside to look at the damage. Someone appeared behind him, but he didn't get a chance to see who, as the guy punched him, and he felt everything turn to darkness.
Dean was still passed out, handcuffed to a steel ladder. The man who had knocked him out was loading a gun. A women walked into the room and slammed the door shut.
"Explain" she muttered, her voice held no real emotion, in fact she seemed bored, or like she didn't want to be here.
"I don't even know, I just found him" the man replied. He began cleaning his gun.
"So you found it, knocked it out and handcuffed it?" the women questioned raising her eyebrows. "Kinky." she said taking a swig out of a flask. Dean woke up then, realising he was handcuffed to the ladder. He heard the sound of a throat clearing, directing his attention to the man and women across the room. His eyes opened wide, the women was a slightly older looking Beth, and the man looked almost just the same as him except slightly older.
"What the hell?" Dean muttered under his breath. As he said this the women, Beth glared at him, sitting herself on the table. Future Dean stopped cleaning his gun, turning his attention to Dean.
"We should be asking that question, don't you think?" Future Dean lowered his gun, so that it was pointing right at Dean "In fact, give me one good reason why I shouldn't gank you right here and now?" Dean put his one free hand up, as if that would help the situation, or block any bullets from killing him.
"Because you'd only be hurting yourself." Was the best Dean could come up with, as he lowered his hand.
"Very funny." Future Dean muttered, leaning forward some more.
"Still as funny as ever." Beth muttered, in the past that may have sounded like a joke, or very sarcastic, but it just came out with no real emotion, the only sarcasm in the meaning of the words. Dean turned to look at her confused, but he didn't get much time to ponder when his attention was brought back to future Dean who was still pointing a gun at him.
"Look, man…" Dean began but he didn't know what to say "I'm no shapeshifter or demon or anything, okay?" Dean tried to explain, in hopes that he wouldn't get killed.
"Yeah, I know. I did the drill while you were out. Silver, salt, holy water—nothing." Future Dean put his gun down "But you know what was funny? Was that you had every hidden lock pick, box cutter, and switchblade that I carry. Now, you want to explain that? Oh, and the, uh, resemblance, while you're at it?" Future Dean looked very seriously at Dean.
"Zachariah." Dean said sighing. This really got Future Dean's attention. He stood up.
"Come again?" Future Dean questioned.
"I'm you from the tail end of 2009. Zach plucked me from my bed and threw me five years into the future." Dean explained, he wasn't lying, but he didn't know if his future self would believe him.
"Where is he? I want to talk to him." Future Dean asked as he walked closer to where Dean was sitting on the floor.
"I don't know." Dean replied.
"Oh, you don't know." Future Dean nodded his head not amused.
"No, I don't know." Dean tried to defend himself
"Convenient, for you at least" Beth muttered standing up and crossing her arms.
"Look, I just want to get back to my own friggin' year, okay?" Dean's voice rose, he really was not enjoying this at all.
"Okay." Future Dean ran his hand over his face, before he moved closer to Dean and kneeled down. "If you're me, then tell me something only I would know." Dean thought about this for a second before a smirk crossed his face.
"Rhonda Hurley." Dean said quickly. This caused Future Dean to turn his head slightly, a questioning look cross his face. "We were, uh, nineteen. She made us try on her panties. They were pink. And satiny. And you know what? We kind of liked it." Dean had an amused smile on his face when he finished.
"That information could come in handy" Beth smirked, the most emotion she had shown this whole time. Both Dean's glared at her.
"Touché." Future Dean said before he stood up and paced the room slightly. "So, what, Zach zapped you up here to see how bad it gets?" Future Dean questioned as he started picking up his gun again.
"I guess." Dean replied as Future Dean cocked his gun "Croatoan virus, right? That's their endgame?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Future Dean started nodding his head.
"It's efficient, it's incurable, and it's scary as hell. Turns people into monsters. Started hitting the major cities about two years ago. World really went in the crapper after that." Future Dean was loading guns into a duffle bag as he said this.
"What about Sam?" Dean asked, he had been wondering where Sam and the other two girls were. His question caused both Beth and Future Dean to go still. Future Dean recovered quicker than Beth.
"Heavyweight showdown in Detroit. From what I understand, Sam didn't make it." Future Dean tried to sound like he wasn't upset, but a slight bit of emotion broke through in his voice. Dean stared at future Dean for a moment, trying to understand what he meant.
"You weren't with him?" Dean asked.
"No." Future Dean replied instantly. "No, me and Sam, we haven't talked in—hell, five years." he added, grimly. Dean realised what Future Dean meant. They hadn't talked since the phone call that Dean had just had hours earlier.
"We never tried to find him?" Dean asked confused. This was not what he thought would happen.
"We had other people to worry about." Future Dean replied shaking his head before he turned to look at Beth, nudging her slightly. Beth broke out of her thoughts, turning to look at Future Dean. She didn't smile, she just nodded understanding. Future Dean picked up the duffle bag, slinging it over his shoulder.
"Where are you going?" Dean asked
"We've got to run an errand." Future Dean said, grabbing the gun off the table and going to head outside.
"Whoa. You're just gonna leave me here?" Dean questioned. He didn't want to be stuck in this position all day.
"Yes. I got a camp full of twitchy trauma survivors out there with an apocalypse hanging over their head. The last thing they need to see is a version of The Parent Trap. So, yeah, you stay locked down." Future Dean was angry slightly.
"Okay. All right. Fine. But you don't have to cuff me, man." Future Dean continued to walk to the door ignoring Dean's comments. "Oh, come on. You don't trust yourself?" Dean asked, craning his neck to see him.
"No. Absolutely not." Future Dean shook his head before leaving.
"Dick." Dean muttered, turning back around, he realised Beth was still here. "Where are the girls?" he asked. Beth tensed slightly, everyone at the camp knew the girls were a taboo subject especially if Beth was in hearing distance. It had been a long time since anyone had mentioned them around her, long enough that she forgot how much it hurts to be reminded of them
"Out" she muttered before leaving the same way Future Dean had. Dean was confused, neither his future self nor Beth had really given him any real answers. It appeared Sam was dead, which hurt him immensely. How could he have not gone after him eventually? But when Dean asked about the girls, Beth's reactions hadn't matched her answer, could the girls be not talking anymore?
….
Beth found Future Dean outside, waiting for her.
"What are we going to do?" Beth asked.
"Look just make sure he doesn't go running off somewhere. Here's the key to his handcuffs." Future Dean reached his hand into his pocket, before pulling out the little key and handing it to Beth. Beth just nodded, her face falling to the ground.
"He… he asked about…" Beth couldn't get the words out. Future Dean's tough exterior faulted slightly, he knew what she meant without her saying the words. Memories flashed through his mind before he quickly pushed them away.
"Look go take a break, I'm sure he won't get anywhere, but don't leave him too long." Future Dean lifted her face up, before he ruffled her hair. "You'll be right kiddo."
"I'm not a kid Dean." Beth muttered angrily fixing her hair as Future Dean walked away. Sighing, she pulled out her flask, and took another swig. She made her way back into where Dean was being kept, only to find the handcuffs lying on the floor and no Dean in sight. She looked around the room, but it was dark. She felt a blunt object hit her head, before everything faded to black.
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