Rewritten

Chapter 4

The first day passes boringly, and Dean finds himself wishing he’d been flung back to a time when this Dean and Sam were at least in the middle of a case that he could have helped out with. But as he recalls, they’d had a few weeks between Jesse Turner and the run-in with the witch Patrick. And he’d landed smack in the beginning of that little hiatus.

Awesome.

He’s forgotten how intense everything was in this time. How driven they were to figure out a way, any way, to stop Lucifer from obliterating everything and stop the angels from using him as a vessel. The search for the Colt – and how goddamn hopeful they all were about its effectiveness against Lucifer.

Lying there, curled up the second morning, Dean almost breaks his resolve not to tell them as much as he can. The look on Ellen’s face when Jo announced her plan, and the way they’d staunchly refused to save themselves… All for nothing. The fucking Colt had barely knocked Lucifer down for a couple of seconds, and once again, they were grieving the loss of their friends.

But he has no idea what will happen if he tells them anything. They could dismiss his concerns and do the exact same things, they could try to avoid losing Ellen and Jo and somehow still lose them in another way, or they could change the past and fuck up the future in different ways. What if Ellen and Jo are around in his time, but Lucifer’s roaming free and 2015 has a flavor of 2014?

Dean can’t take that risk.

He rolls over and stares up at the ceiling, running his fingers through his hair.

He really hadn’t intended to let it slip that Bobby died. He only wanted one chance to say that it was good to see him, because it is good to see him and although it’s been more than three years, he still misses Bobby’s crankiness and intelligence. The one thing about the slip is that Bobby was right – he is old, and a hunter’s life is always risky. Getting past thirty is pretty much a miracle, so it’s not exactly a huge surprise to Bobby, Past Dean, and Sam that their friend doesn’t make it. Generally (Dean shakes his head, lost in the what-if of Ellen and Jo), when they have friends, they simply don’t make it.

“Dean?”

He lifts his head off the pillow. “Yeah, Cas?”

“Are you all right?” Cas stands in the doorway, posture still a little stiff in this time. He seems like he’s about to say something else, and then doesn’t.

Dean sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. “Cas, how much are you allowed to know about the future?” he asks, wanting – needing – to confide in someone. He holds up a hand as Cas starts to reply. “No. You know what? Not putting that burden on you. Forget I said anything.”

Cas walks in and stands in front of the dresser across from the bed. “It depends on what happens, and how much you say,” he says, completely ignoring Dean’s second comment. “You can, of course, tell me unimportant things, or that certain events happen without describing the circumstances. Bobby’s death, for example. I know there are many ways that has happened in your time, and not knowing the details keeps us from messing with history. If we do end up changing things, you would already know, because for you it has already ha—”

“Stop,” Dean says, getting to his feet. He pauses, a hand on one hip. “Wait, what about unimportant things? Would I be able to change anything?” Some small spark of an idea is struggling to catch in the back of his mind, like a lighter almost out of butane. How unimportant does the trivial change have to be? Because, for him, the one he’s thinking of is a little important… At least to him.

“If it were something like…” Cas looks like he’s at a loss for words.

“Like seeing a different movie here instead of the one I saw in my history,” Dean suggests. “Or, say, what about…” He shrugs, feigning thoughtfulness. “A relationship.” Too revealing, he tells himself. “That, um, Sam’s in. Or Bobby. Or, um, me. What about that? Someone that got away?”

Cas squints at him. “It would depend on how important the relationship is, and its impact on your lives. Or will be,” he adds after considering. “Or… would be. It depends on who it is, and how much their involvement would change circumstances and history.”

There are so many things that could have happened differently if he and Cas were together this whole time, Dean reflects. He tries to imagine the changed events, and his mind goes blank for a second because there simply are too many to consider.

The souls. Cas’s idiotic teaming with, and betrayal of, Crowley. Which had led to his releasing the Leviathan and being dead for so long.

That’s probably the biggest one Dean can think of right now. If Cas had trusted him enough to let him in on the plan, maybe he could have been talked down. The Leviathan would have, might have, stayed in Purgatory if Cas hadn’t gone joyriding around with all the souls and given them enough time to grab a toehold, grabbing their chance to escape.

Or if things had turned out differently with Metatron and Cas had his grace, Dean would have never had to let Gadreel possess Sam, because Cas could have done it so easily. Kevin would still be alive. His stomach twists.

He doesn’t see a way he wouldn’t have gotten the Mark, though. Abaddon would have been running around, and he would have still sought out a way to kill her, any way, even if it meant agreeing to Cain’s offe—

“Dean?”

He jerks his head up from where he’s been staring at the floor. “Yeah. No. No, it’d probably change too much,” he says finally.

Cas nods, uncertain. “Who was it? Or is it?”

“Uhhh….” Jeez, what happened to him being quick on his feet? “Like I said, it might change things, so I don’t wanna get into it right now.” A genius idea hits him. “Besides, it’s probably really his decision anyway.” There. Now that’s ambiguous enough that it could refer to someone unknown Dean had been considering dating, or it could be Sam or Bobby or future Cas (the actual person Dean’s referring to) and their own decision.

“I see,” Cas says slowly, not elaborating. He continues watching Dean’s expression carefully.

Okay, he can’t keep standing here in silence with Cas staring at him like this. “All right!” Dean begins, smiling with completely false gusto. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Sam’s going to look for a case. He thinks there’s one in Pierre,” Cas says. “I think you—um, current you—is going with him. Bobby wants to get some files organized.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “And you?”

Cas shrugs. “I thought I’d help him,” he says. “I have nowhere else to be, and Bobby is… He is an interesting human being, I must say.”

This time when Dean smiles, it’s genuine. “He’s a bit of a dick, but lovable, huh?” Memories of times at Bobby’s flicker through his mind, all the idjits and insults said with affection if you knew how to listen right. “You know what? I think I’ll help you guys.”