BOBBY'S PLACE - SAME TIME

Quiet thunder. An old cassette tape of "In Between Dances" played on the kitchen radio. Sam, Dean and Bobby sat around the table, playing cards and using pumpkin cookies for chips. The boys were having beers and Bobby had a tall mug of fancy k-cup coffee. They weren't talking and the tension was cowpie-thick. Suddenly, ELO's "The Way Life's Meant to Be" started playing. Sam jumped and instinctively got out his phone to answer it, but paused.

Who in this timeline had his number?

He and Dean frowned at each other and Sam looked at the caller: unknown. Sam answered it, but before he could even say hello, whatever he was hearing stopped him. After a moment, he hung up.

"Who the hell was that?" Dean asked.

"I dunno," Sam said, looking wigged. "There wasn't a voice, just... something that sounded like... rope breaking."

They both gave Sam's phone stink-eye before he put it away. Yeah, the tension was cut.

Dean cleared his throat, upset. Wanting to change the subject. "So, uh... what happened to the junkers?" he asked.

"Long story," Bobby said. He dealt everyone two cards.

"Can we hear it?" Dean asked. "Or is it like a dog whistle?"

"I sold 'em," Bobby said.

"Doesn't sound like a long story," Sam said. "You don't have the junkers anymore, then what do you do for money?"

"Yeah, what's keeping Little Frank in pellets?" Dean asked with a smirk.

Bobby sighed. "I fix up old cars now. Turns out I got a talent for it."

Sam and Dean both looked playfully pissed at that.

"And who was it who told you that?" Dean asked, in a tone that suggested he and Sam had. They both chuckled at that.

Bobby laughed, too, inspite of the surly, edgy thing he was trying to keep up. "Well, Cas got a job on the other side of town, and you know the bus doesn't really make it to my side of the tracks."

"I told you," Sam said. There was a note of old argument in his voice. Like 'junior high school' old.

"I ain't a chauffeur," Bobby said. "He needed a car. I wasn't about to buy him one, and you know I don't like anyone touchin' the Chevelle. So, I pulled that old Sky Rocket off the good pile to fix up."

"That mob car?" Sam asked incredulously, laughing. "The one with the bullet holes?"

"And wire wheels," Bobby said defensively.

Dean was scandalized. "That thing had a 455 block under the hood," he said. "You were really gonna waste that kinda fire on a librarian?"

"Hey." Bobby gave Dean a warning look that meant business. "What'd I say about that?"

It was becoming abundantly clear to the boys: this timeline's Bobby didn't like anyone making fun of Castiel.

Dean cleared his throat, not wanting the wrath of Bobby Singer on his head. His eyes went to his cards, so as to not look too back-downy. "So," he said quietly, "you fixed up the car for Cas?"

Sam tried not to smirk the smirk of awful little brothers.

"Yeah, I got her lookin' real good," Bobby went on, triumphant in the knowledge that he could still be scary when he wanted to. "Baby blue; flawless chrome; bone interior. Prettiest car I'd ever seen when I was awake. I knew he'd love 'er... So I took her into town to get new plates, but when I stopped for gas, the girl in line behind me offered me twice what the thing was worth. Which was about five times parts and labor."

"And you told her no," Sam said. "Because you fixed the car up for Cas?"

Sam and Dean both gave Bobby a judgy look: busted.

"Well, he hadn't seen it yet!" Bobby said defensively. "And I could get him a new house for what she paid me."

"Looks like you did," Dean said. "You got the place fixed up real nice. New guest room, new stairs, and I ain't even seen the second floor. You painted out there?"

"I didn't paint," Bobby said, "Cas did."

Still amused, Sam frowned. "Why'd Cas paint the house?"

Bobby looked at his cards carelessly, and said in a dark voice, "He knows why." Bobby threw down his cards, realizing they forgot to bet. "Business is good. Right now I got more money than I can keep dry."

Sam looked at his cards. The situation was so surreal, he couldn't even remember if they were playing poker. "You guys seem like you're... doing good."

"So why didn't you show at Stull?" Dean asked.

"Dean," Sam started to say.

Bobby held a hand up. "It's fine, Sam," he said.

Heavy moment. It wasn't a time Bobby liked to reminisce about. Finally, he looked at Dean.

"Someone put bleach in my oil pan," Bobby said pointedly.

They could follow Bobby's eyes. Dean didn't like the looks he was getting.

"You think it was me?" Dean asked.

"Wasn't it you?!" Bobby hollered.

"No!"

But there was a weird look in Dean's eyes. Sam knew what it meant. Dean was holding something back, and Sam stared at him until he coughed it up.

"Okay," Dean admitted, "I messed with the reservoir tank."

"What gives you the right?!" Bobby shouted. "The van damn near blew up on us! You that determined to bench me? Because of you, we never made it!"

"You weren't supposed to make it!" Dean yelled. "It wasn't your fight, you and Cas only went there to die! And in our world - the real one - you two made it anyway! Okay, so I syphoned your coolant! You had a whole jug in the back, I only wanted to slow you down. But that's it, I didn't mess with the oil pan! You know... I mean, yeah, I almost did. I didn't need you guys following me. It was fifty-fifty, so I..."

"Flipped a coin?" Sam asked. He'd put it together. "Crowley was right."

Dean looked horrified. "Dude, no," he said.

"Dude, yes," Sam said. "Your coin-flip... was the point where the timelines split. Dean, you're-."

"Don't say it," Dean warned.

"You're the friggin' Time Crotch!"

The back door flew open. Castiel hussled into the kitchen looking harried, dropped his keys on the counter and picked up the radio. "Have you been listening to the news?" he asked everyone.

Blank stares.

"What happened?" Dean asked.

It took Castiel a second of tuning to realize a tape had been playing. He stopped it. "A severe electrical storm hit a field in Northwest Missouri. Lightning killed seventy people."

Bobby looked anxious. Sam and Dean were still blank - horrible news, but what... did it have to do with them? After a second, Dean had to speak his mind, tact be damned.

"What the hell were seventy people doing standing in a field?"

"They weren't standing," Castiel said importantly. "They were hiding."

"Angels," Bobby said. "They fried another batch of angels."