You woke up with a start and immediately looked for Dean. He was right next to you, his hand in yours. You smiled at him and looked around. Your smile was immediately replaced by a frown. The walls were peeling, there was a strange stench in the room, almost like sulphur. You shot up; sulphur meant demons. Dean moved next to you, sitting up straight. "Hey, what's wrong?" He always seemed to sense that something was bothering you. You'd never met anyone who understood you as well Dean did.
"I-Do you not smell that?" Dean suddenly realized what you were talking about. He looked around, just as confused as you were.
"What the hell?"
"I don't know."
"No seriously, what the hell?"
"I don't know Dean!" You boyfriend shook his head and got out of bed, pulling a shirt on. He looked out the window and reiterated again.
"What the hell..." You walked up behind him, looking out the window. All you saw was destruction. Every building was on the verge of breaking down, the roads, vacant like mankind had been wiped out. It looked exactly like how you imagined the apocalypse to be...
You and Dean walked out to the road, curiosity building up with every step you took. There was no one in any of the other rooms and there was no reception at the desk; or at least what used to be the desk. You and Dean had decided that you two were in an abandoned motel. How you got there, was another one of the mysteries that plagued you two as you walked in silence. The tranquility that you two shared (rather comfortably) was broken when you heard a twitch behind you. The both of you stopped in your tracks and looked around to see imminent danger. There was no one around you, but your instincts told you otherwise. There it was again. This time, the both of you turned a full circle. You saw a human figure and nodded at Dean, who'd spotted him as well. Trying to sound brave, you took a small step forward. "Hello? Do y-you need help? It's okay. We're not going to hurt you." You tried to sound as soothing as possible. You turned to look at Dean and he gave you a small smile. That smile was enough to increase your confidence. "Don't be scared of us. We're not the bad guys." You tried to move a little further but Dean took your hand, not letting you move. He didn't trust the man. You immediately built up your wall. If Dean didn't like him, neither did you. You turned around to assure Dean that you wouldn't go to the man, but quickly turned around when you saw his expression change.
"Y/N..." He whispered. You felt fear rise up to your face. Oh god. "Run!" Dean tugged your arm hard enough to rip your feet off the ground, helping you regain from shock and run with him. You jumped over broken cars, metal, running away from the whole mob of people that had gathered around. They looked like zombies, but you and Dean knew better. They were infected with the Croatoan virus. And they were much worse than zombies. You heard a gunshot somewhere but you were sure it was panic playing with your head-no, wait. There it was, again. You looked up to see a tanker and you immediately felt comfort rush down; you wanted to slow down, but Dean would have none of it. He was not going to let you get hurt. The both of you ran to safety, watching as the marines shot at the croatoans, but to no avail. They were clearly outnumbered.
***
You and Dean had waited until nightfall before going off to find a car. You slid into the car, facing the garage fence when your eyes fell on a board.
August 1st, 2014.
This was 2014. You were in 2014 and the apocalypse was happening. Or at least, that's what you gathered considering the fact that there were croatoans roaming around freely. You looked to Dean to find that he was looking at the board as well. He turned around, confusion painted all over his features and came back into the car. The both of you looked at each other for a second, thinking when the same thing struck your minds. "Zachariah." You muttered at the same time.
"Son of a bitch." Dean hit the steering wheel. "I'm going to stab him in the face." He whispered angrily. You nodded, you hated the angel ever since you found out that he'd orchestrated the apocalypse. Your boyfriend, on the other hand had hated him since they'd first met and you couldn't blame him for that. Zachariah was a dick.
"Heard you were talking about me." You heard a flutter of wings and turned around to see your least favorite angel. And that was counting Lucifer.
"Zap us back, Zach." Dean ordered.
"Watch your tone with me, boy." He winked at you and you wanted to puke. You rolled your eyes in disgust. "Nice to see you, Y/N."
"Wish I could say the same for you." You hissed. Zachariah chuckled.
"You've got yourself a feisty one, Dean."
"Shut up, before I punch your guts out." Dean looked at him with hatred.
"I think you're forgetting the fact that I'm angel. I can smite you from the face of this planet in a matter of seconds. Especially considering how your choices are the ones leading to...well leading to the apocalypse."
"Is that why you brought us here? To show us that the consequences of our choices are going to lead to destructed roads and cannibals?"
"To show him. You see, he's the important one. You...not so much." Zachariah smirked. You put your hand on Dean's, assuring him that the angel didn't need a punch and Dean, a broken fist. "Your choices are going to lead to some very, very bad things, Dean Winchester. You have to realize that. I'll give you...three days, and no more than that." And he was gone. In a flash. You shook your head. Trust the angels to be ambiguous douchebags. You looked at Dean and shrugged.
"We are here, might as well go through with it, eh?" You tried to sound enthusiastic but the memory of almost getting killed by croatoans didn't help. At all.
***
You were on your way to Camp Chitaqua, praying that nothing had happened to Sam or Bobby. You didn't even want to think of Castiel, assuming the worst for the angel now that it was apocalypse and he couldn't help Dean make the 'right' choice. Dean stopped the car a little outside the camp and the both of you got down, walking towards it, when Dean spotted the impala. You cringed, a sadness overtaking your body when you saw the car. She was battered and bruised, doors torn away, glass broken, paint ripping from it. Looking at her like that gave you the jitters, because all you could wonder about was what had happened to Dean in 2014 that he would ever stop taking care of his baby? Dean walked to the car, apologizing profusely. He sat inside at the driver's side, trying to familiarize himself with what was once his most prized possession. You sat in on the other side when you heard it. A loud thump. You immediately looked to your boyfriend to see him unconscious as a tall figure grabbed him out of the car. You took one deep breath before getting out of the car, ready to attack.
"If you want to hurt Dean, you gotta go through me, you son of a bitch." You jabbed his face, hard enough to break a nose. The man retaliated and you bent down, jabbing his right knee at the same time. He moved a couple of inches backwards and you were in front of him in a second, grabbing his neck to meet his abdomen to your knee. To your surprise, the man grabbed waited until you pulled him down to grab your other leg and flip you over. He pulled you up as your face hit the ground when he landed your body on the Impala, hands behind your back.
"Who the hell are you?" He demanded. You were too confused to answer. You'd taught Dean that move. How did he know it? "I asked you a question." He grabbed your hands together tighter. "Who. The. Hell. Are. You?" His voice...it sounded so...similar. Sounded so much like Dean. But it was deeper. Much deeper and you could hear sorrow and bitterness in his voice. This wasn't Dean. It couldn't be Dean. But your gut told you otherwise. He bent down a little closer and your senses tingled, that was definitely Dean. His touch was so familiar...yet so foreign. "Lady, for your sake, I hope you answer. Because I'm running out of patience and when I run out of patience-"
"Dean?" You whispered. The hand around your wrists loosened immediately. The man recognized your voice, then. But he was in denial. No. It couldn't be you. He quickly turned you around, and for the first time, he saw your face. Your eyes reflected the rays of light from the floodlights. He let go of you and tried to walk back, only to almost lose his balance. He straightened up rather quickly, but his gaze never left you. It was Dean, you were sure of it. But he was so...different. Standing in front of you was a man you could barely recognize as the man you loved. "Who" You cleared your throat. "Who are you?" It was still a whisper.
"Y/N..." In that moment, you cold swear what you'd seen were tears in his eyes. What you'd heard was a broken voice. What you sensed was immense sorrow and guilt. The sorrow and guilt of a man who was so far broken that nothing but Death could fix him. "Y/N..." A single tear rolled down his eye. "Y/N..." he whispered.
"Y/N.."
You stared at the scene unfolding in front of you. Dean was arguing with...Dean. That being said, you weren't even sure the Dean from 2014 was the Dean you knew. You weren't even sure if it was the Dean that Dean knew. He was so much colder. On a first glance, he looked exactly like your boyfriend. But a spending a second extra on the way he carried himself told you a lot more. This Dean was much more driven. His eyes didn't look as beautiful, they didn't even look as green as your boyfriend's. They were even more inhospitable than the man, if it was even possible. He barely smiled once in the two days you'd been with him and even when he did, you saw nothing but hatred escape his lips. He even walked different; carrying guilt and sorrow as we treaded on his mission to kill the devil. You didn't think you'd live to watch your boyfriend kill his own brother. His family. But it was like this Dean didn't even know what Family felt like.
"He's got a point, you know. This is a suicide mission." You chimed into their argument. Dean looked at you coldly but his softened a little when his gaze met yours.
"You're obviously going to support him." Dean pointed at your boyfriend. "You're screwing him."
"Whoa there. Watch your mouth about her." Dean resisted the urge to punch the stranger standing in front of him. Why in the world would Dean ever become like this?
"Dean..." Both of them turned to you. You looked at the Dean from 2014. "If you do this, your friends are going to die.What about Chuck? Castiel? He's like your brother. Surely you don't want him to die." You'd been discussing "Dean's" plan to kill Sa-Lucifer. He finally got his hands on the colt and knew Satan's location. He was going to use Castiel and some of his other followers as a distraction while he would sneak in with the two of you from behind and empty the gun in his face. But this plan was ridiculous. You weren't going to let innocent people-you weren't going to let Castiel die. Not for this monster anyways.
When you first came across this Dean, you felt a pit in your stomach. Surely, aging was a process that was gracious on the Winchesters. But the more you got to know him, the more you hated him. You saw him kill two people in cold blood, one he said was infected and the other, didn't even deserve a justification apparently. You were scared of the man that you saw your boyfriend become. You didn't even understand why. Sam had yes to Lucifer for some Godforsaken reason, yes. But killing Lucifer wasn't going to bring Sam back. His younger brother would die with the Devil. He wasn't going to save the world, it was already hell. Why in the world would Dean Winchester let all these people get slaughtered to kill Lucifer then? Why didn't he give up?
You watched as the man you loved argued with his own reflection before walking away, throwing his hands in frustration. "I'm going to grab something to eat." He turned to you. "You wanna come with or do you want to listen to the dick's plans?" You shook your head at the man who claimed to be your boyfriend and walked away with Dean. The Real Dean. You didn't notice the tears that threatened to make their way out of the man that you deeply hated. The man whose love for you knew no bounds.
You saw that Dean had fallen asleep. Tomorrow was the big day. You walked out of your tent to meet Castiel. He looked good-for an angel without grace at least. He smiled at you, his blue eyes twinkling. "Hey Cas."
"You look the same. Exactly the way I remember you."
"Yeah? You look pretty different. I like the beard." You brushed your hand over his untamed, overgrown stubble.
"Thank you." Cas moved out of the way as the two of you walked quietly for a while. It was almost as if you had the angel with you. The two of you had grown to be really close friends over the two years you'd known each other, much like Dean and Cas did. It was nice, even though Cas changed. He was no longer the awkward yet terrifying angel of the Lord. He was a hippie that conducted orgies in his spare time. You know, when he wasn't putting his life in harm's way for his douchebag of a brother. Yet, he was better than Dean. Castiel had managed to remain a good man. Dean didn't. "Cas?"
"Hmm?"
"Why-"
"I missed that."
"What?"
"You calling me Cas. I always liked it better than when Sam or Dean used it." He smiled. You chuckled.
"Seriously though, what happened to Dean?"
"Sam said yes. Isn't that enough of a reason for him to want revenge?"
"But this revenge is pointless, Cas."
"He has a lot of importance attached to it."
"Why?" You asked as a couple of girls walked to Cas. You eyed them for a second before looking back to Cas.
"In the two days you've been here, haven't you wondered even once about where you were?"
"What?"
"Would you ever leave Dean?" He shrugged and turned his attention to the women while you turned and ran to "Dean's" room. You opened the door without even knocking to find Dean standing in the middle of the room, staring down at something. He quickly put it back in his pocket and looked to you.
"What happened to me?"
"What happened to you?"
"You know what I mean. Where am I? Castiel is here, Chuck is here; heck even that hunter chick you hooked up with from '04 is here, Dean. Why am I not here?" You saw Dean's expression change. He clenched his jaw.
"You're dead." You didn't even flinch.
"Is-is that why you're doing this, Dean? Because I died?" You asked. "Because Lucifer killed me?"
"Do you know why Sam said yes?" You shook your head.
"Because Nick-Lucifer he got a hold of you. He kidnapped you and he promised us that if he'd get his vessel, he'd let you go."
"So you made Sam say yes to the devil?"
"That's the thing, I never asked him to. Sam still said yes, because there was no other way to save you. And do you know how I had to deal with a possessed brother and a dead girlfriend? The friggin' apocalypse."
"That entitles you to kill these people? Look around you reckless bastard, there's nothing, nothing these people wouldn't do for you. And you're going to kill them?" You spat.
"If they'd do anything for me, they wouldn't mind dying so much too, I guess." You punched Dean in the face.
"I wish it was you that Lucifer killed, Dean." You whispered. Dean walked forward to you and you took a couple of steps back, scared. You felt a hit of chill breeze when you realized you walked out of the room. Dean closed the door on your face and made sure to lock it this time. You knocked again, but never got an answer. Sighing, you walked away, back to your Dean. The Dean you loved.
Dean couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see only one thing. Your broken body in his arms. Blood dripping from your sides; your face, lifeless. Your soft hair rustled with the chilly wind. Dean pulled you closer to him and hugged you tight. His brother just said yes to Lucifer, the world was coming to an end, but he didn't care. All he cared about was you. And he couldn't hold his pain in anymore.He couldn't stop the howls of sorrow escaping from his lips, the cascade of tears leaving his eyes. He was bawling like a child. Nothing from his past had hurt him this much and he knew that nothing in the future could even match up to the pain he was feeling.
He opened his eyes and sat up on his bed, panting. Lucifer had to die. Even if it meant his friends had to die. Even if it mean Chuck and Castiel, his only family had to die. He had to get revenge. He pulled the piece of paper he hid in his leather jacket out. It was a terribly old and looked like it was going to crumble to pieces at any second. He looked at it for a second and smiled, old memories flooding his thoughts. He wiped a stray tear off the ultrasound scan and put it back in his pocket, falling back onto bed. He had someone to kill the next day.
