Black Dove // Part 6 continued
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Dean took a seat next to Castiel under the watchful eyes of his future self. He was close nough to the camp fire to still feel its warmth, but the overall atmosphere was chilly.
“So how was Europe?” Dean wondered, trying to break apart the heavy silence. The other Dean snorted, while Sam merely smiled.
“You would be surprised at how much there is outside of America. Artifacts, knowledge, lore,” he replied, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hunters. An entire network actually keeping their eyes open. Why do you think all of this shit goes down in America?” Dean shrugged and his future self just shook his head at him with a humorless smirk. “It’s because it’s chaotic and unguarded here. The network never worked.”
“And you’re trying to tell me that good old Europe has a hidden army or something?” It was Sam who smiled at him now, amused.
“Not quite hidden. They work closely together with the Church. Unsurprisingly, a secularized society doesn’t take kindly to them taking charge again. But you’d be surprised what humans put up with when they’re expecting the world to end,” he said, pulling one corner of his mouth up a bit further, then he shrugged. “It doesn’t concern us. All Dean was interested in was finding a way to kill something that cannot be slayed or perish trying.” Dean lifted an eyebrow at this peculiar wording.
“What I- you mean what you both wanted, right? Or do you have other priorities, Sammy?” Sam smiled, closing his eyes but lifting his eyebrows.
“Yes, of course,” he said indulgingly and Dean really didn’t like that slightly patronizing tone he used. As if Sam was just humoring Dean. The other Dean wasn’t any more pleased that Dean himself was.
“You returned because you found something,” Castiel spoke up, completely ignoring the awkward silence that had ensued, “what is it?” The other Dean reached into an inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out two small books. They looked new but already well-worn, the dark leather binding of both already cracked and dog ears bending the pages.
“Surprise,” the other Dean said sarcastically when he noticed Dean’s skeptical look. “They don’t just give you the centuries old originals.” He held both books up. “We got translated copies.” He tossed the bigger one towards Dean, who caught it and turned it around. There was nothing on the black cover, so he opened it to the first page and wrinkled his brow in confusion.
“The Leviathan Gospel?” Castiel, who was sitting next to Dean tensed at that before she pulled the book out of Dean’s fingers, flipping through it with wide eyes. Dean lifted his eyebrow at “What’s that supposed to be?”
“It’s basically the story every leviathan knows and believes in. It’s their creation myth, their rule book and the foundation of their race,” future Dean explained and when Dean looked over at him, he found his eyes focused on Castiel going through the pages. “Everything written in there, the leviathans accept as truth.”
“What does it say then? Is there anything on how they’re to be killed or what?” Dean wondered, but got a head-shake in return.
“No, it’s more like a handbook of how they can expect to get out of Purgatory and what to do from then on. It’s too late for us to do anything against it. Probably too late for you too unless you come from a point before Purgatory was opened,” Dean’s future self said. He wasn’t surprised or disappointed when Dean shook his head. “But this here.” The other book was held up for Dean to see, small and also bound in black leather. He could make out simple gold lettering on it though.
“The Beast’s Lament,” Dean read, but then he shook his head in confusion, “something else out of Purgatory?”
“Yes,” the other Dean got up and walked over to where he and Castiel were sitting, lowering himself to a crouch and waving the book in front of Castiel’s face. “In leviathan society, those who are strongest fight their way up to the very top. That leaves a lot of weaker individuals to certain death. One depressed leviathan wrote down what it calls an echo of something the leviathans had long forgotten, some kind of prophecy. Fortunately, both accounts had been recorded by either a monster that got out of Purgatory or a human that was attuned to the realm. While the Gospel is all about them getting out of Purgatory and eating up the earth in some epic delayed temper tantrum directed at their Dad for sticking them into Purgatory, the Lament tells us how to get rid of them again.”
“You mean kill them?” Dean couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice. The other Dean’s hard eyes put a bit of a damper on his mood though.
“I mean toss them back into Purgatory and make sure they stay there for the next couple of millennia.” And well, it wasn’t exactly ideal and not nearly as satisfying as slicing Dick into tiny pieces and setting him on fire, but it was a start. The first attempt to send them back to Purgatory had failed, but maybe this would work if it was specifically designed for leviathan.
“That’s… great,” Dean said before he looked over at his counterpart. The man regarded him with a blank expression, then turned his eyes to Castiel. The angel was silent and unmoving, looking at the open gospel without reading anymore. “Right?” She looked up at him and showed him a weak smile. He didn’t want to let himself be discouraged, even though he had the sinking feeling that this entire break-through had serious effects. Just like sending Lucifer back had demanded Sam’s sacrifice. “So… You’re ready to gank Dick then?”
“Unfortunately,” Sam spoke up, not having left his seat to come any closer, “it is not something we can do. As Dean said, it is too late for him.” Dean frowned at that and his future self closed his eyes for a moment, forehead wrinkled. For the first time Dean saw the lines on his face and the silver shining in his hair. When he opened his eyes again he settled them firmly on Dean.
“He is right. I can’t do anything about it. But someone else can,” he turned his head to the side and looked at Castiel. She frowned down at the page until the other Dean reached out and forced her chin up. “There is one mythological figure in their stories that links both the Gospel and the prophecy of the Laments.” He let her go again once Castiel no longer averted her eyes.
“What? Cas? What does he have to do with leviathan stuff?” Dean demanded to know. The other Dean pulled the gospel out of Castiel’s hands.
“Leviathans are beasts, they have a thing for virgin sacrifices,” he said as if that explained everything, but Dean just glared at him in annoyance. His future self groaned in annoyance. “Do I have to spell it out? Virgin angel strong enough to hold them without exploding and stupid enough to open the door means prophecy fulfilled. He is their Virgin Mother, their designed Queen to steady their reign on this plane.” Dean looked at Castiel, whose face was mostly calm, apart from the skin between her brows wrinkling in displeasure.
“Yeah… I know. Kinda… Though their oedipal fixation on him puts me slightly off,” he tried to joke and the other Dean snorted. “But you can just say no, right?” Dean asked, looking at Castiel, who continued resolutely avoiding everyone’s eyes, “that’s what I did. And it kinda worked out in the end.”
“Right, that went very well,” the other man said dryly and with a self-depreciating roll of the eyes. “The point is that Cas can’t say no.” Dean gave a start at that, blinking at the man opposite him. Surely he hadn’t heard right, but the other Dean just regarded him with a glare. Dean wanted to shout something, outraged at the implication that he would want Cas to give herself over to the leviathans.
“The leviathans expect that once they have the Queen they will reign supreme,” Sam started to explain, leaning back casually and completely undisturbed by the content of their conversation. “And they will. But they don’t have to do so here.” He pointed over to the other book. “There is one antagonistic figure within Leviathan lore, one that can rise against them, but will eventually fail,” he went on to explain, “he is called by a multitude of names within the many oral stories that were written down as gospel, but one of them should be familiar to you.”
“The Righteous Man.” It was Castiel who spoke the words, slowly, calmly and when Dean - both of them actually, but wearing different expressions - looked over at her she lifted her head. She did look at neither of them, her eyes wearing a far-away look.
“What…? Me… Us, I mean? Are we still on about that stupid Righteous Man crap? Because I sure as hell-“ Dean started to argue, but it was Sam who spoke again.
“That is still you. Like humans and like beasts, angels do hold on to their figureheads, even if they have proven themselves to be redundant.” Dean frowned at Sam.
“Wow, thank you Sam, for the pep -talk,” he snorted, but the other Dean lifted his hand in a dismissive and tired wave.
“Leave him be,” he said and turned back to Castiel. “The gospel writes the Righteous Man off as nothing but a potential danger, that’s why they were trying to take us out. But they were too unconcerned to really try their best.” A hollow grin stretched future Dean’s lips, but his eyes shone cold with grim satisfaction. “They would have worked harder if they had known about the Laments.”
“The only one apart from God who can kill leviathans is the one they aptly named the Grand Fisher. That would be you,” Sam explained, flicking his fingers in both Deans’ general direction, but his eyes were trailed on Castiel.
“So why can’t we be?” Dean demanded to know once Castiel had averted her eyes, “not that I want to be any prophesized hero again, but I sure as hell wouldn’t mind knowing more about how to take down Dick!”
“We just can’t. Okay? Drop it,” the older Dean hissed at him, wiping his hand over his face. “We tried to look for an alternative once it became obvious that the Grand Fisher was out of the picture.”
“So? And why’s that?” Dean asked, getting tired of this, being handed only bits and pieces of information that might save his entire time line, but he was still listening. This was important, this was knowledge he could take home to Sam and make Frank and Crowley dig up more for them.
“Remember that figure that shows up in both texts?” Sam asked with a raised eyebrow and Dean’s eyes darted to Castiel, who was pale faced and still trying to avoid looking at anyone.
“The name’s Leucothea,” the other Dean spoke up, “the White Goddess.” The Winchester’s eyes were trailed on Castiel and Dean couldn’t help following their example. Castiel had shrunk back, getting closer to Dean and away from her contemporaries, but it was pointless. The other Dean’s expression changed from calm and assessing, to angry within a fraction of a second. Dean wondered if that was something Castiel had to watch on his face too all of the time. It was an ugly expression. “So you know! You know and you didn’t do anything!” Dean of the future shouted, rising up on his feet and towering over Castiel and Dean who had remained seated.
“Calm down!” Dean shouted, glaring up at himself and then directing his gaze at Castiel. “What’s going on?”
“It took us quite a long time to draw the parallels. We’ve been looking for that elusive Leucothea for three months before we finally made the connection. And she’s been here all along! Playing human, playing angel!” The other Dean was still shouting and Dean didn’t even try to stop him. Even though he felt like a bastard for it, he actually understood his anger. The other Dean’s eyes narrowed at Castiel’s silence, even when she looked up at him with wide, imploring eyes. “That’s why an arch-angel’s blade didn’t kill you, that’s why you could breech our circles. You’re a goddess!”
Silence followed this last statement, heavy and suffocating, only broken shortly by the sound of the fire spitting. Castiel didn’t say anything, Sam continued to watch and Dean was glaring at her. At least one of them, for the other’s expression was far more wide-eyed disbelief with an oncoming frown of confusion and wariness.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean asked and looked from the other Dean, who just cocked his eyebrows at him, to Castiel herself. “You’re a goddess?”
“No,” she insisted and future Dean balled his hands into fists, taking a step closer so that had both got up on their feet as well. “I’m not a goddess!”
“Not yet,” Sam helpfully added, crossing his arms with an amused expression as he watched the argument unfold. “That’s the potential, but it’s an active decision she has to make. Empress of the Leviathan, Queen of Purgatory,” Sam said with pleasure, looking up at the cloudy sky overhead, “it’s not bad, not for an angel that forfeited its place upstairs.” Castiel lowered her head and Dean glared at Sam.
“What the hell is your problem, Sam? You’re being far too passive-aggressive for my taste!” Sam looked at him with an almost pitying smile, his eyebrows both raised, then he looked over at his brother. Dean did the same, but his future self just shook his head and he looked so tired, Dean was almost afraid he’d fall over and die. He already started pitying himself, instead of being angry. If Sam could cause such an expression in Dean, something must be seriously wrong.
“Go get the food out of the Impala,” he said, but didn’t look over at Sam, who just sighed and got up on his feet.
“What’s wrong with him…?” Dean asked, when his future self pinched the bridge of his nose.
“His wall’s gone, that’s wrong,” was the reply he got and future Dean’s tiredness left in favor of anger. He looked over at Castiel, who did meet his look with one of despair and pain. “Everything’s wrong and you’re just not doing anything.”
“I’m sorry,” she said and Dean was surprised that his future self actually looked sad at that.
“I know, but it changes nothing. You left everything in a shattered mess,” he replied and Castiel fell into silence once again. Dean frowned at both of them, watching them not talk and just stare at each other.
“Come on, man. I understand you, probably better than anyone,” Dean started, “but he’s cleaning up.” His future self actually had the gall to chuckle at that, small and hollow, leaving his eyes cold.
“Don’t tell me that you think that’s enough,” he replied icily and Dean bit back a retort, “not when you know that Castiel has the means to end it. Has had it for months.” Future Dean shoved him away and stepped up into Castiel’s personal space. She wasn’t exactly impressed by him looming over her, but she wasn’t happy either, her face pinched. “It’s time to end it.” Castiel looked at him in silence, but then she sighed, the sound chilling Dean to the bone.
“If that is what you want,” she started, licking her lips before she continued, “then I do what it takes.” Dean stared at both of them in shock and disbelief. This was exactly like Frank had said; if Dean asked Cas to do something, he would. No matter what it was that Dean was demanding of him, he was desperate enough to redeem himself that he’d rather give himself over to the Leviathan than tell Dean no.
“For fuck’s sake,” Dean ground out, “are you both completely nuts?!” His future self merely regarded him with a frown, while Castiel turned her head away from his incredulous stare. “Cas, you can’t be serious! You can’t just go throw yourself away because of some stupid prophecy!” Castiel didn’t say anything so Dean grabbed her shoulder, but it was the other Dean that took his wrist and made him let her go. Dean was bristling with anger at his inability to do anything about this situation. He snatched his hand back out of his future self’s grip and turned his attention back to Castiel. “Since when do we believe in prophecies?! Cas, you don’t need to do this! That’s not the right way to redeem yourself!”
“This is not your time,” his future self said, forcing him backwards and a few steps away from Castiel. “This is not your decision to make. You don’t fight a war without sacrifices!”
“Why?! Why has it always got to be family?! You can’t be okay with this!” Dean hissed and for a moment the other man’s eyes softened. Even though it lasted nothing more but a second and Dean was roughly shoved backwards, it had been enough to read the answer to his question. He didn’t want to do it, but there was no other way. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, but that it didn’t matter what he wanted. He just wanted to be done, he wanted this chaos to finally end. And this was the way to do it. Castiel was one of many casualties on the way to the end.
“Cas… come on, man…,” Dean implored, looking over at her and hoping despite everything that she’d change her mind. His future self lowered his eyebrows at Dean.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asked and Dean wanted to shout no in his face, because at least someone got to, but Castiel was crossing her arms over her chest, turning away from them. Dean saw that she was trying to think, but he didn’t want her to make up her mind all on her own. He wanted to make her see that this wasn’t worth it, but in the end he nodded.
His future self led him away from the circle in which the fire was, past Sam, who was idly leaning against the hood of the impala, watching them pass him with a smile on his face. Dean could still see the fire’s light where they stood, he could see Castiel sitting down on the ground, her head lowered and her hands folded as if in prayer.
“Why are you here? Who sent you?” Dean turned his head to where his future self was leaning against the back wall of a tiny building.
“Is that really the question that you need to ask here?” he retorted and pointed over to Castiel. “When you’re doing the most-“
“Just answer the question,” his future self interrupted him, a hard glare directed his way. Dean took a sharp breath through his nose, but he mustn’t forget that his time left here wasn’t unlimited. There was no point in wasting precious minutes with dancing around the problems.
“We conducted a ritual. My memories are a bit fuzzy about it, but I know that I wanted to go back to the other 2014, the one we prevented.” The snort that followed this answer wasn’t totally unexpected, neither was it completely undeserved. “We wanted to get Cas’ blood and the Colt. Possibly information about the leviathans from Lucifer. And, seeing as I had an archangel blade with me, killing him in return for getting the Colt was probably on the table too.”
“So you wanted to try your luck with the Colt against Dick, probably with some modified bullets,” his future self summed up and when Dean nodded, he shook his head. “You’re an idiot.”
“Even Cas said it could work! It could send them back to Purgatory if we did it right!” Dean argued, but the other man just pushed himself off the wall and glared at him.
“You wouldn’t do it right. We tried to use the Colt against Lucifer and it failed. We lost Jo and Ellen because of it! And you want to take a small weapon, built for monsters that were once human, against something like leviathans?! What do you think will happen?!”
“It’s not as if we’ve got anything else!” Dean shouted back, not impressing himself in the least. Dean took a step closer to him and it was so strange staring into a face two years older than his and already feeling himself turn into. It was almost worse than last time, because then he had been so sure that he would never let it come to this.
“We do, we have the most efficient weapon against them!” the other Dean hissed at him, getting so close he could see the freckles splattered over his nose and cheeks and the lines etched around his eyes, his mouth, his forehead. Dean stared at him, but after a few moments he took a step back and shook his head.
“Remember what that other Dean in Zach’s future did?” he asked and the man opposite him narrowed his eyes. “He sacrifice Cas as a diversion! And we said that we’d never do that!”
“Yes, and I remember what the other Dean retorted,” his future self said, his voice rough and barely above a whisper. “He said that we were in that mess because we didn’t sacrifice our friends. The situation hasn’t changed, Dean. Nothing about it has changed and we’re as helpless to just watch it unfold as we were the last time.” Dean shook his head.
“No. That’s not true. You have a choice here. All you’re doing is treating Cas like nothing more than a weapon to use. You’re sacrificing him because you know exactly how much Cas needs you to forgive him.”
“This is not a question of forgiveness and you know it,” his future self said, turning his head slightly to the side to watch their campsite. “And it’s not as if you have a moral high-ground. No matter what time you’re from, you’ve used Cas and you’ve emotionally manipulated him because you know how much you mean to him. We always did and we knew how to use it against him.” Dean didn’t say anything because there was no point in denying it or lying to himself. The other Dean sighed and drew his hand through his hair. “Listen man,” he started and looked at Dean, “I know this is a fucked up situation. But I’m done… “ He huffed a sigh and he was smiling slightly, an ugly small thing, loaded with self-loathing and powerlessness. “We’ve been on the run and looking for a solution for years now. And this is it… And I don’t care what you think. Go back to your time and try your best.” And with this the other Dean turned away from him and made his way back to the camp. Dean watched him go, looked how he passed Sam with whom he exchanged a few quietly spoke words before he rejoined Castiel. He sat down next to her, arms crossed over his chest, and glared into the fire while she watched him. Dean wanted to drive his fist into the wall. His frustration and anger and no small amount of despair made him feel like exploding. He wanted to get out of here, he wanted to shake both of them and he wanted to know how to end this without driving them all to an inevitable death. He didn’t want it to end like this, but he didn’t know what to do other than what his future self had just told him to: go home.
He slowly made his way back to the fire after Sam had left his spot by the Impala.
“What are you going to do?” Dean asked, when he rejoined the natives of this time, not sitting down as close to Castiel as he would wish to, but there was a graspable tension between her and his future self that he didn’t want to get caught up in. The other Dean pulled something out of his jacket, a small wooden box with lots of carvings covering every surface.
“What Cas is up to is her decision. Sam and I will depart in less than two hours.” Castiel looked up at him in confusion, even after Dean had put the sealed box into her hands.
“Why? What are you going to do?” she asked and it was obvious that she didn’t want them to leave again, now that they were finally reunited.
“It’s too dangerous to stay in one place for long. The leviathans are still after us,” the other Dean told her, “and there’s something we got to do in Michigan.” The last he said with a look over at Dean from the corner of his eyes and Dean frowned.
“So… We’re parting ways soon then,” Dean said slowly, still trying to decipher the look he had received, “well… Cas and me need to head to… What was it? Illinois?” Castiel nodded wordlessly, then she looked over at the other Dean again.
“Just open it,” he said when she didn’t do anything with the box, “we found it during our travels. It was difficult to obtain, but it’s the real deal. Forged 600 years ago we were told.” Castiel seemed confused by that, but she opened the box. Dean looked over at them and blinked in surprise when all that Castiel held up was a plain, old key. But form the look in Castiel’s eyes, she knew exactly what it was and it must have been special.
“What’s that?” Dean asked and Castiel turned the heavy looking key around her fingers. Nobody deigned it necessary to give him an answer, instead Castiel looked up at the other Dean.
“Thank you,” she said and lowered her head again, “I’ve stopped looking for it…” Dean was slightly irritated at not being in the loop, because that shabby key must be somehow important. He watched Dean look at her, just looking, but then he got up, putting his hand around he forearm and pulling her up as well. Both Castiel and Dean were surprised, while Sam just continued reading.
“I need to talk to you,” Dean’s future self said and glared at him, “alone.” Castiel seemed as surprised as Dean was.
“Dude,” Dean argued, but his future self just rolled his eyes at him, “honestly?”
“Shut up,” the other man hissed at him and Dean didn’t quite know what to do with the churning, bitter feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Are you coming?” Castiel shot Dean a look, but he forced himself to shrug and she nodded.
“Of course.” Dean watched them for a second, unsure if he even had a reason to feel so immaturely jealous, but then he remembered something and opened his bag. Better safe than sorry.
“Hey! Wait a second!” The other Dean stopped and turned around, just in time to catch the small box Dean had thrown at him. He looked down at it, finding it to be the box of condoms. “If you decide to give him the last night on earth speech.”
“Very funny, smartass,” his future self snorted at him, while Castiel actually looked slightly panicked before Dean turned her around and left their make-shift camp site.
“So you bring a pack of condoms to your time-travelling adventures,” Sam spoke up and Dean recalled that he was now alone with Sam. It should make him feel at ease, but something about him was off, even as he closed the book with a smile and walked over to sit down next to Dean.
“I thought I was headed for somewhere else, somewhere with orgies,” he half joked, unsure whether this Sam would understand that there was a lot more truth to it than he let on. He must have told Sam some well-kept secrets about his short trip to the future before they conducted the ritual, but he couldn’t remember it. Sam just shrugged.
“No matter what future you visit, there are certain facts that are immovable,” Sam said and turned his head to smile at Dean. “It doesn’t quite matter what details you change, you’ll end up at the same place.” A small chill went through Dean at Sam’s words and he frowned at him.
“Why would you say that?” he asked, “we’ve changed the future before, you jumped into the pit, there is no Croatoan apocalypse, Cas isn’t mortal.”
“As I said, details,” Sam corrected, “he still said yes, Castiel still was mortal, you still end up with nothing but a hollow ache and the world is still ending. Not quite like planned, but I am here and humanity is slowly disappearing from the surface of this planet.” Dean lowered his brows, but then he widened his eyes and would have jumped up if Sam hadn’t put his hand around Dean’s wrist. “You mustn’t disturb the unfolding of Dean and Castiel’s romantic tragedy,” he told him pleasantly. “Why don’t you stay and talk? Dean rarely talks.”
“Why,” Dean started but had to stop, his entire form seized by a bone-shaking chill and the scream died in his throat when he looked at the almost pitying smile on his brother’s face. All he could force out as a pained groan was another “why”.
“It was supposed to happen. My brother did me a great favor by tearing down that terribly irritating wall you had put up.” Dean was unable to move and the man in front of him still smiled, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Why are you so surprised, Dean? I had to win.”
“Win?!” Dean finally forced out and pulled his arm from Sam’s grip. Sam! Why hadn’t the other Dean said anything?! Why hadn’t he realized that what sat before him wasn’t Sam?! “How can you possibly consider this winning?!”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Dean,” Lucifer said, drawing his hands through his hair and tugging them behind his ears. Dean actually took a moment to process this shocking development, forcing his terrified mind into at least some semblance of calm. There was no white suit and he was traveling around with Dean instead of raining down fire and lightning on everyone. There were no demons, nothing to hunt. Sam’s clothes were slightly dirty, his hair not freshly washed. Nothing about him was that pristine being in a glaringly white suit. Dean widened his eyes in sudden realization.
“You’re mortal!” Lucifer sighed, seemingly only mildly irritated. “You’re stranded and graceless, just like Cas was in that other future!”
“What did I say about details, Dean?” Lucifer asked him, totally unconcerned and Dean didn’t actually find it within himself to be only the slightest bit happy about that development. Because Sam… Sam was lost once again. “Fate is a really peculiar thing, don’t you think?” Lucifer asked.
“There’s no more such thing, we stopped all that destiny crap,” Dean ground out, glaring at the fire so he didn’t have to look at what was left of his brother.
“And yet we are here. What damage one angel can do when he’s been influenced by humans,” he mused and Dean wanted to shut him up. It might even be satisfying to slam his fist into Lucifer’s face, knowing he could knock him out, knowing he could actually kill him with his very hands. But what point was there to it? He would just kill Sam too, if he still was in there.
“What will happened to Cas?” Dean forced himself to ask, because Lucifer might be a complete dick and Dean was shaken to the bones, but he was still a source of information.
“Very similar to that annoying little stunt you pulled with me,” Lucifer told him, “he’s going to gather them and return to Purgatory with them. Becoming the White Goddess will give him enough strength to do it. The Leviathan were a bit careless when they tried to put him back together according to their wishes. They should have kept him weak, tearing out the rest of his mutated Grace instead of just leaving it underneath all that leviathan filth. By trying to fulfill their prophecy, they also doomed themselves back to Purgatory. Not that they’ll care that much if they have their Queen.”
“So… Cas will be gone…?” Lucifer nodded, “why can’t he just toss them back without jumping in there as well?”
“Because he’s already becoming one of them, I’m sure you noticed all the ways he’s different. It’s too late. If you want the Leviathan gone from Earth that’s the only way to do it now.” Lucifer wasn’t very sympathetic, not that Dean had expected anything else, but the thought of losing Castiel to the Leviathan once again was almost as terrible as the thought of soon losing Sam.
“There’s got to be a way to stop this future from happening,” he hissed and Lucifer just leant back against their supplies, arms crossed and he watched Dean with a pleased smile.
“Yes? Feel free to try,” he said and closed his eyes, the smile still staying in place. Dean was left to his own devices, with the shell of his brother falling into a light sleep and the fire throwing shades across his face.
So he was bound to fail. He didn’t know how it had happened, how the devil had slipped out of the hallucinations and into the body of Sam. He didn’t know what had happened at the bottom of the lake where Castiel had perished. He didn’t know what was going on in this time. He felt powerless and weak, tired and afraid. He wanted to go home, but he was scared that he would just end up here again once the two years had passed.
Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Sam? Can you hear me?” he asked, but only the fire and the even breathing of Lucifer replied. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, “come on. Come on. Sammy?”
“Dean?” The voice was weak and confused, but it was Sam. Dean breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank God. Sorry, I just had to make sure you were still okay,” he said and next to Lucifer he could now also hear the deep, almost sleepy breathing of his brother, two years away, but still safe.
“Is everything okay?” Sam asked him, his voice now full of concern. Dean couldn’t help smiling, shaking his head.
“No… No, nothing’s okay here. It’s mad… Sorry… I just… Sorry, it’s been a crazy few days.” Sam actually chuckled and Dean could hear him take a sip of something, probably coffee. “Hey, Sammy?”
“Hm?” Dean looked over at Lucifer’s sleeping form, just like Sam when his mouth wasn’t stretched into that unfamiliar, superior smile.
“I know you don’t like it, but it’d be best if you just went to sleep,” he said after a while. Judged by the impatient sigh on the other side of their soul-mate phone Sam wasn’t about to grant his request. “Sam, I’m being serious. You shouldn’t take your hallucinations lightly.”
“Believe me Dean, I’m not. But I do know my limits,” he said, “and I’d rather breech them than let you be stranded in the future.”
“No, Sam, please.”
“No. It’s already past 6. I can manage till noon,” he assured him but Dean wasn’t happy. Every moment Sam pushed beyond his limits, Lucifer might be getting one step closer. “Why are you so desperate to get me to stop?”
“Because Cas will be able to send me back and because…,” he had to clear his throat and look away from Sam’s body now sprawled over the blanket. “You’re not well in this time, Sam… I don’t want this to happen to you.” Sam was silent for a long moment and Dean was afraid that the already faint connection had broken off. Maybe he should have left the circle to get better reception, but he didn’t dare to move away from camp.
“Okay,” Sam said, “I can only pull you back if you’re at the designed place. I’m not sure if I can pull you back earlier, but I can at least try.”
“Dude, I’m in Pennsylvania. How am I supposed to get to Illinois without Cas?” he hissed and looked around. Castiel was nowhere to be seen and he didn’t hear any voices either.
“And where is Cas?” Sam wondered and Dean got up from his place at the fireside. He walked around, following the lines in the ground, to get the feeling back into his legs and maybe calm his nerves down as well.
“Hell if I know. Future me is probably giving him the last night on earth speech,” he said in irritation, a bit glad that Sam laughed at that.
“Dude, no, you’re not!” he protested and Dean only shrugged. Even though Sam couldn’t see it Dean huffed. “Oh my god, you totally are!” Hearing the incredulous laughter in Sam’s voice made Dean smile despite his rather subdued mood.
“I don’t know if he is, man! And in my - his defenses, Cas got the body of a hot chick right now. Smells quite nice too.” Dean wondered if his future self could smell it too and if he had better self-control in case he did.
“Sure.” Dean could hear the smile in Sam’s voice and he let himself grin too. “So… How will you get to Illinois?”
“I don’t know…,” Dean said with a groan, wiping his palm over his face, “I have to wait for Cas… This would be so much easier if you just listened to your big brother.”
“But I won’t, so stop whining,” Sam said with finality and Dean hated how stubborn Sam had to be at times. “People can live for a while without sleep.” Dean snorted.
“If that was supposed to encourage me, it totally failed. And even if that’s true, normal people don’t have Satan parading through their head,” he argued and the huff on the other side implied that Sam rolled his eyes at him. Then Sam yawned and Dean sighed. “Okay, I think this is not helping you to stay lucid. Just…”
“I know. You try to stay out of trouble those last couple of hours,” Sam told him, then, with a sharper voice added: “no stupid heroic stuff, okay?”
“What?” Dean asked with a bemused expression, shaking his head at his brother, “You know I’m not into heroic stuff.”
“Yeah, whatever Dean. Just get your ass where it’s supposed to be,” he said and Dean just had time enough to hum in agreement before silence settled again in his ears. He listened some more, just in case Sam had anything else to say, but he only heard the fire and a faint blowing. The sky in the distance was getting darker again, like storm clouds closing in on them. There was still a lot of that muted daylight and a look at his watch confirmed that it was about twenty past 6 in his own time. So it must be after two in the afternoon, but it was as always hard to tell.
Not seeing Dean and Castiel returning and believing that no matter what the two of them were up to, it might take them more than just a moment, Dean sat back down, grabbing the Leviathan Gospel. The other Dean must have taken the Lament with him again, which was quite a shame seeing as that one seemed to be more valuable in terms of usefulness. Looking through the very first page, translation and origin note excluded, Dean soon realized that it would be quite a strain to work through this book. It wasn’t written in verses, thank God, but it was still strangely poetic in its wording. He could recognize his own notes in the margins of the book, trying to decipher the metaphors and terms, noting down references to other parts in the book and various other things. Dean sighed and set himself to the task of reading through the mythological foundation of the Leviathan.
Next
Dean took a seat next to Castiel under the watchful eyes of his future self. He was close nough to the camp fire to still feel its warmth, but the overall atmosphere was chilly.
“So how was Europe?” Dean wondered, trying to break apart the heavy silence. The other Dean snorted, while Sam merely smiled.
“You would be surprised at how much there is outside of America. Artifacts, knowledge, lore,” he replied, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hunters. An entire network actually keeping their eyes open. Why do you think all of this shit goes down in America?” Dean shrugged and his future self just shook his head at him with a humorless smirk. “It’s because it’s chaotic and unguarded here. The network never worked.”
“And you’re trying to tell me that good old Europe has a hidden army or something?” It was Sam who smiled at him now, amused.
“Not quite hidden. They work closely together with the Church. Unsurprisingly, a secularized society doesn’t take kindly to them taking charge again. But you’d be surprised what humans put up with when they’re expecting the world to end,” he said, pulling one corner of his mouth up a bit further, then he shrugged. “It doesn’t concern us. All Dean was interested in was finding a way to kill something that cannot be slayed or perish trying.” Dean lifted an eyebrow at this peculiar wording.
“What I- you mean what you both wanted, right? Or do you have other priorities, Sammy?” Sam smiled, closing his eyes but lifting his eyebrows.
“Yes, of course,” he said indulgingly and Dean really didn’t like that slightly patronizing tone he used. As if Sam was just humoring Dean. The other Dean wasn’t any more pleased that Dean himself was.
“You returned because you found something,” Castiel spoke up, completely ignoring the awkward silence that had ensued, “what is it?” The other Dean reached into an inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out two small books. They looked new but already well-worn, the dark leather binding of both already cracked and dog ears bending the pages.
“Surprise,” the other Dean said sarcastically when he noticed Dean’s skeptical look. “They don’t just give you the centuries old originals.” He held both books up. “We got translated copies.” He tossed the bigger one towards Dean, who caught it and turned it around. There was nothing on the black cover, so he opened it to the first page and wrinkled his brow in confusion.
“The Leviathan Gospel?” Castiel, who was sitting next to Dean tensed at that before she pulled the book out of Dean’s fingers, flipping through it with wide eyes. Dean lifted his eyebrow at “What’s that supposed to be?”
“It’s basically the story every leviathan knows and believes in. It’s their creation myth, their rule book and the foundation of their race,” future Dean explained and when Dean looked over at him, he found his eyes focused on Castiel going through the pages. “Everything written in there, the leviathans accept as truth.”
“What does it say then? Is there anything on how they’re to be killed or what?” Dean wondered, but got a head-shake in return.
“No, it’s more like a handbook of how they can expect to get out of Purgatory and what to do from then on. It’s too late for us to do anything against it. Probably too late for you too unless you come from a point before Purgatory was opened,” Dean’s future self said. He wasn’t surprised or disappointed when Dean shook his head. “But this here.” The other book was held up for Dean to see, small and also bound in black leather. He could make out simple gold lettering on it though.
“The Beast’s Lament,” Dean read, but then he shook his head in confusion, “something else out of Purgatory?”
“Yes,” the other Dean got up and walked over to where he and Castiel were sitting, lowering himself to a crouch and waving the book in front of Castiel’s face. “In leviathan society, those who are strongest fight their way up to the very top. That leaves a lot of weaker individuals to certain death. One depressed leviathan wrote down what it calls an echo of something the leviathans had long forgotten, some kind of prophecy. Fortunately, both accounts had been recorded by either a monster that got out of Purgatory or a human that was attuned to the realm. While the Gospel is all about them getting out of Purgatory and eating up the earth in some epic delayed temper tantrum directed at their Dad for sticking them into Purgatory, the Lament tells us how to get rid of them again.”
“You mean kill them?” Dean couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice. The other Dean’s hard eyes put a bit of a damper on his mood though.
“I mean toss them back into Purgatory and make sure they stay there for the next couple of millennia.” And well, it wasn’t exactly ideal and not nearly as satisfying as slicing Dick into tiny pieces and setting him on fire, but it was a start. The first attempt to send them back to Purgatory had failed, but maybe this would work if it was specifically designed for leviathan.
“That’s… great,” Dean said before he looked over at his counterpart. The man regarded him with a blank expression, then turned his eyes to Castiel. The angel was silent and unmoving, looking at the open gospel without reading anymore. “Right?” She looked up at him and showed him a weak smile. He didn’t want to let himself be discouraged, even though he had the sinking feeling that this entire break-through had serious effects. Just like sending Lucifer back had demanded Sam’s sacrifice. “So… You’re ready to gank Dick then?”
“Unfortunately,” Sam spoke up, not having left his seat to come any closer, “it is not something we can do. As Dean said, it is too late for him.” Dean frowned at that and his future self closed his eyes for a moment, forehead wrinkled. For the first time Dean saw the lines on his face and the silver shining in his hair. When he opened his eyes again he settled them firmly on Dean.
“He is right. I can’t do anything about it. But someone else can,” he turned his head to the side and looked at Castiel. She frowned down at the page until the other Dean reached out and forced her chin up. “There is one mythological figure in their stories that links both the Gospel and the prophecy of the Laments.” He let her go again once Castiel no longer averted her eyes.
“What? Cas? What does he have to do with leviathan stuff?” Dean demanded to know. The other Dean pulled the gospel out of Castiel’s hands.
“Leviathans are beasts, they have a thing for virgin sacrifices,” he said as if that explained everything, but Dean just glared at him in annoyance. His future self groaned in annoyance. “Do I have to spell it out? Virgin angel strong enough to hold them without exploding and stupid enough to open the door means prophecy fulfilled. He is their Virgin Mother, their designed Queen to steady their reign on this plane.” Dean looked at Castiel, whose face was mostly calm, apart from the skin between her brows wrinkling in displeasure.
“Yeah… I know. Kinda… Though their oedipal fixation on him puts me slightly off,” he tried to joke and the other Dean snorted. “But you can just say no, right?” Dean asked, looking at Castiel, who continued resolutely avoiding everyone’s eyes, “that’s what I did. And it kinda worked out in the end.”
“Right, that went very well,” the other man said dryly and with a self-depreciating roll of the eyes. “The point is that Cas can’t say no.” Dean gave a start at that, blinking at the man opposite him. Surely he hadn’t heard right, but the other Dean just regarded him with a glare. Dean wanted to shout something, outraged at the implication that he would want Cas to give herself over to the leviathans.
“The leviathans expect that once they have the Queen they will reign supreme,” Sam started to explain, leaning back casually and completely undisturbed by the content of their conversation. “And they will. But they don’t have to do so here.” He pointed over to the other book. “There is one antagonistic figure within Leviathan lore, one that can rise against them, but will eventually fail,” he went on to explain, “he is called by a multitude of names within the many oral stories that were written down as gospel, but one of them should be familiar to you.”
“The Righteous Man.” It was Castiel who spoke the words, slowly, calmly and when Dean - both of them actually, but wearing different expressions - looked over at her she lifted her head. She did look at neither of them, her eyes wearing a far-away look.
“What…? Me… Us, I mean? Are we still on about that stupid Righteous Man crap? Because I sure as hell-“ Dean started to argue, but it was Sam who spoke again.
“That is still you. Like humans and like beasts, angels do hold on to their figureheads, even if they have proven themselves to be redundant.” Dean frowned at Sam.
“Wow, thank you Sam, for the pep -talk,” he snorted, but the other Dean lifted his hand in a dismissive and tired wave.
“Leave him be,” he said and turned back to Castiel. “The gospel writes the Righteous Man off as nothing but a potential danger, that’s why they were trying to take us out. But they were too unconcerned to really try their best.” A hollow grin stretched future Dean’s lips, but his eyes shone cold with grim satisfaction. “They would have worked harder if they had known about the Laments.”
“The only one apart from God who can kill leviathans is the one they aptly named the Grand Fisher. That would be you,” Sam explained, flicking his fingers in both Deans’ general direction, but his eyes were trailed on Castiel.
“So why can’t we be?” Dean demanded to know once Castiel had averted her eyes, “not that I want to be any prophesized hero again, but I sure as hell wouldn’t mind knowing more about how to take down Dick!”
“We just can’t. Okay? Drop it,” the older Dean hissed at him, wiping his hand over his face. “We tried to look for an alternative once it became obvious that the Grand Fisher was out of the picture.”
“So? And why’s that?” Dean asked, getting tired of this, being handed only bits and pieces of information that might save his entire time line, but he was still listening. This was important, this was knowledge he could take home to Sam and make Frank and Crowley dig up more for them.
“Remember that figure that shows up in both texts?” Sam asked with a raised eyebrow and Dean’s eyes darted to Castiel, who was pale faced and still trying to avoid looking at anyone.
“The name’s Leucothea,” the other Dean spoke up, “the White Goddess.” The Winchester’s eyes were trailed on Castiel and Dean couldn’t help following their example. Castiel had shrunk back, getting closer to Dean and away from her contemporaries, but it was pointless. The other Dean’s expression changed from calm and assessing, to angry within a fraction of a second. Dean wondered if that was something Castiel had to watch on his face too all of the time. It was an ugly expression. “So you know! You know and you didn’t do anything!” Dean of the future shouted, rising up on his feet and towering over Castiel and Dean who had remained seated.
“Calm down!” Dean shouted, glaring up at himself and then directing his gaze at Castiel. “What’s going on?”
“It took us quite a long time to draw the parallels. We’ve been looking for that elusive Leucothea for three months before we finally made the connection. And she’s been here all along! Playing human, playing angel!” The other Dean was still shouting and Dean didn’t even try to stop him. Even though he felt like a bastard for it, he actually understood his anger. The other Dean’s eyes narrowed at Castiel’s silence, even when she looked up at him with wide, imploring eyes. “That’s why an arch-angel’s blade didn’t kill you, that’s why you could breech our circles. You’re a goddess!”
Silence followed this last statement, heavy and suffocating, only broken shortly by the sound of the fire spitting. Castiel didn’t say anything, Sam continued to watch and Dean was glaring at her. At least one of them, for the other’s expression was far more wide-eyed disbelief with an oncoming frown of confusion and wariness.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean asked and looked from the other Dean, who just cocked his eyebrows at him, to Castiel herself. “You’re a goddess?”
“No,” she insisted and future Dean balled his hands into fists, taking a step closer so that had both got up on their feet as well. “I’m not a goddess!”
“Not yet,” Sam helpfully added, crossing his arms with an amused expression as he watched the argument unfold. “That’s the potential, but it’s an active decision she has to make. Empress of the Leviathan, Queen of Purgatory,” Sam said with pleasure, looking up at the cloudy sky overhead, “it’s not bad, not for an angel that forfeited its place upstairs.” Castiel lowered her head and Dean glared at Sam.
“What the hell is your problem, Sam? You’re being far too passive-aggressive for my taste!” Sam looked at him with an almost pitying smile, his eyebrows both raised, then he looked over at his brother. Dean did the same, but his future self just shook his head and he looked so tired, Dean was almost afraid he’d fall over and die. He already started pitying himself, instead of being angry. If Sam could cause such an expression in Dean, something must be seriously wrong.
“Go get the food out of the Impala,” he said, but didn’t look over at Sam, who just sighed and got up on his feet.
“What’s wrong with him…?” Dean asked, when his future self pinched the bridge of his nose.
“His wall’s gone, that’s wrong,” was the reply he got and future Dean’s tiredness left in favor of anger. He looked over at Castiel, who did meet his look with one of despair and pain. “Everything’s wrong and you’re just not doing anything.”
“I’m sorry,” she said and Dean was surprised that his future self actually looked sad at that.
“I know, but it changes nothing. You left everything in a shattered mess,” he replied and Castiel fell into silence once again. Dean frowned at both of them, watching them not talk and just stare at each other.
“Come on, man. I understand you, probably better than anyone,” Dean started, “but he’s cleaning up.” His future self actually had the gall to chuckle at that, small and hollow, leaving his eyes cold.
“Don’t tell me that you think that’s enough,” he replied icily and Dean bit back a retort, “not when you know that Castiel has the means to end it. Has had it for months.” Future Dean shoved him away and stepped up into Castiel’s personal space. She wasn’t exactly impressed by him looming over her, but she wasn’t happy either, her face pinched. “It’s time to end it.” Castiel looked at him in silence, but then she sighed, the sound chilling Dean to the bone.
“If that is what you want,” she started, licking her lips before she continued, “then I do what it takes.” Dean stared at both of them in shock and disbelief. This was exactly like Frank had said; if Dean asked Cas to do something, he would. No matter what it was that Dean was demanding of him, he was desperate enough to redeem himself that he’d rather give himself over to the Leviathan than tell Dean no.
“For fuck’s sake,” Dean ground out, “are you both completely nuts?!” His future self merely regarded him with a frown, while Castiel turned her head away from his incredulous stare. “Cas, you can’t be serious! You can’t just go throw yourself away because of some stupid prophecy!” Castiel didn’t say anything so Dean grabbed her shoulder, but it was the other Dean that took his wrist and made him let her go. Dean was bristling with anger at his inability to do anything about this situation. He snatched his hand back out of his future self’s grip and turned his attention back to Castiel. “Since when do we believe in prophecies?! Cas, you don’t need to do this! That’s not the right way to redeem yourself!”
“This is not your time,” his future self said, forcing him backwards and a few steps away from Castiel. “This is not your decision to make. You don’t fight a war without sacrifices!”
“Why?! Why has it always got to be family?! You can’t be okay with this!” Dean hissed and for a moment the other man’s eyes softened. Even though it lasted nothing more but a second and Dean was roughly shoved backwards, it had been enough to read the answer to his question. He didn’t want to do it, but there was no other way. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, but that it didn’t matter what he wanted. He just wanted to be done, he wanted this chaos to finally end. And this was the way to do it. Castiel was one of many casualties on the way to the end.
“Cas… come on, man…,” Dean implored, looking over at her and hoping despite everything that she’d change her mind. His future self lowered his eyebrows at Dean.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asked and Dean wanted to shout no in his face, because at least someone got to, but Castiel was crossing her arms over her chest, turning away from them. Dean saw that she was trying to think, but he didn’t want her to make up her mind all on her own. He wanted to make her see that this wasn’t worth it, but in the end he nodded.
His future self led him away from the circle in which the fire was, past Sam, who was idly leaning against the hood of the impala, watching them pass him with a smile on his face. Dean could still see the fire’s light where they stood, he could see Castiel sitting down on the ground, her head lowered and her hands folded as if in prayer.
“Why are you here? Who sent you?” Dean turned his head to where his future self was leaning against the back wall of a tiny building.
“Is that really the question that you need to ask here?” he retorted and pointed over to Castiel. “When you’re doing the most-“
“Just answer the question,” his future self interrupted him, a hard glare directed his way. Dean took a sharp breath through his nose, but he mustn’t forget that his time left here wasn’t unlimited. There was no point in wasting precious minutes with dancing around the problems.
“We conducted a ritual. My memories are a bit fuzzy about it, but I know that I wanted to go back to the other 2014, the one we prevented.” The snort that followed this answer wasn’t totally unexpected, neither was it completely undeserved. “We wanted to get Cas’ blood and the Colt. Possibly information about the leviathans from Lucifer. And, seeing as I had an archangel blade with me, killing him in return for getting the Colt was probably on the table too.”
“So you wanted to try your luck with the Colt against Dick, probably with some modified bullets,” his future self summed up and when Dean nodded, he shook his head. “You’re an idiot.”
“Even Cas said it could work! It could send them back to Purgatory if we did it right!” Dean argued, but the other man just pushed himself off the wall and glared at him.
“You wouldn’t do it right. We tried to use the Colt against Lucifer and it failed. We lost Jo and Ellen because of it! And you want to take a small weapon, built for monsters that were once human, against something like leviathans?! What do you think will happen?!”
“It’s not as if we’ve got anything else!” Dean shouted back, not impressing himself in the least. Dean took a step closer to him and it was so strange staring into a face two years older than his and already feeling himself turn into. It was almost worse than last time, because then he had been so sure that he would never let it come to this.
“We do, we have the most efficient weapon against them!” the other Dean hissed at him, getting so close he could see the freckles splattered over his nose and cheeks and the lines etched around his eyes, his mouth, his forehead. Dean stared at him, but after a few moments he took a step back and shook his head.
“Remember what that other Dean in Zach’s future did?” he asked and the man opposite him narrowed his eyes. “He sacrifice Cas as a diversion! And we said that we’d never do that!”
“Yes, and I remember what the other Dean retorted,” his future self said, his voice rough and barely above a whisper. “He said that we were in that mess because we didn’t sacrifice our friends. The situation hasn’t changed, Dean. Nothing about it has changed and we’re as helpless to just watch it unfold as we were the last time.” Dean shook his head.
“No. That’s not true. You have a choice here. All you’re doing is treating Cas like nothing more than a weapon to use. You’re sacrificing him because you know exactly how much Cas needs you to forgive him.”
“This is not a question of forgiveness and you know it,” his future self said, turning his head slightly to the side to watch their campsite. “And it’s not as if you have a moral high-ground. No matter what time you’re from, you’ve used Cas and you’ve emotionally manipulated him because you know how much you mean to him. We always did and we knew how to use it against him.” Dean didn’t say anything because there was no point in denying it or lying to himself. The other Dean sighed and drew his hand through his hair. “Listen man,” he started and looked at Dean, “I know this is a fucked up situation. But I’m done… “ He huffed a sigh and he was smiling slightly, an ugly small thing, loaded with self-loathing and powerlessness. “We’ve been on the run and looking for a solution for years now. And this is it… And I don’t care what you think. Go back to your time and try your best.” And with this the other Dean turned away from him and made his way back to the camp. Dean watched him go, looked how he passed Sam with whom he exchanged a few quietly spoke words before he rejoined Castiel. He sat down next to her, arms crossed over his chest, and glared into the fire while she watched him. Dean wanted to drive his fist into the wall. His frustration and anger and no small amount of despair made him feel like exploding. He wanted to get out of here, he wanted to shake both of them and he wanted to know how to end this without driving them all to an inevitable death. He didn’t want it to end like this, but he didn’t know what to do other than what his future self had just told him to: go home.
He slowly made his way back to the fire after Sam had left his spot by the Impala.
“What are you going to do?” Dean asked, when he rejoined the natives of this time, not sitting down as close to Castiel as he would wish to, but there was a graspable tension between her and his future self that he didn’t want to get caught up in. The other Dean pulled something out of his jacket, a small wooden box with lots of carvings covering every surface.
“What Cas is up to is her decision. Sam and I will depart in less than two hours.” Castiel looked up at him in confusion, even after Dean had put the sealed box into her hands.
“Why? What are you going to do?” she asked and it was obvious that she didn’t want them to leave again, now that they were finally reunited.
“It’s too dangerous to stay in one place for long. The leviathans are still after us,” the other Dean told her, “and there’s something we got to do in Michigan.” The last he said with a look over at Dean from the corner of his eyes and Dean frowned.
“So… We’re parting ways soon then,” Dean said slowly, still trying to decipher the look he had received, “well… Cas and me need to head to… What was it? Illinois?” Castiel nodded wordlessly, then she looked over at the other Dean again.
“Just open it,” he said when she didn’t do anything with the box, “we found it during our travels. It was difficult to obtain, but it’s the real deal. Forged 600 years ago we were told.” Castiel seemed confused by that, but she opened the box. Dean looked over at them and blinked in surprise when all that Castiel held up was a plain, old key. But form the look in Castiel’s eyes, she knew exactly what it was and it must have been special.
“What’s that?” Dean asked and Castiel turned the heavy looking key around her fingers. Nobody deigned it necessary to give him an answer, instead Castiel looked up at the other Dean.
“Thank you,” she said and lowered her head again, “I’ve stopped looking for it…” Dean was slightly irritated at not being in the loop, because that shabby key must be somehow important. He watched Dean look at her, just looking, but then he got up, putting his hand around he forearm and pulling her up as well. Both Castiel and Dean were surprised, while Sam just continued reading.
“I need to talk to you,” Dean’s future self said and glared at him, “alone.” Castiel seemed as surprised as Dean was.
“Dude,” Dean argued, but his future self just rolled his eyes at him, “honestly?”
“Shut up,” the other man hissed at him and Dean didn’t quite know what to do with the churning, bitter feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Are you coming?” Castiel shot Dean a look, but he forced himself to shrug and she nodded.
“Of course.” Dean watched them for a second, unsure if he even had a reason to feel so immaturely jealous, but then he remembered something and opened his bag. Better safe than sorry.
“Hey! Wait a second!” The other Dean stopped and turned around, just in time to catch the small box Dean had thrown at him. He looked down at it, finding it to be the box of condoms. “If you decide to give him the last night on earth speech.”
“Very funny, smartass,” his future self snorted at him, while Castiel actually looked slightly panicked before Dean turned her around and left their make-shift camp site.
“So you bring a pack of condoms to your time-travelling adventures,” Sam spoke up and Dean recalled that he was now alone with Sam. It should make him feel at ease, but something about him was off, even as he closed the book with a smile and walked over to sit down next to Dean.
“I thought I was headed for somewhere else, somewhere with orgies,” he half joked, unsure whether this Sam would understand that there was a lot more truth to it than he let on. He must have told Sam some well-kept secrets about his short trip to the future before they conducted the ritual, but he couldn’t remember it. Sam just shrugged.
“No matter what future you visit, there are certain facts that are immovable,” Sam said and turned his head to smile at Dean. “It doesn’t quite matter what details you change, you’ll end up at the same place.” A small chill went through Dean at Sam’s words and he frowned at him.
“Why would you say that?” he asked, “we’ve changed the future before, you jumped into the pit, there is no Croatoan apocalypse, Cas isn’t mortal.”
“As I said, details,” Sam corrected, “he still said yes, Castiel still was mortal, you still end up with nothing but a hollow ache and the world is still ending. Not quite like planned, but I am here and humanity is slowly disappearing from the surface of this planet.” Dean lowered his brows, but then he widened his eyes and would have jumped up if Sam hadn’t put his hand around Dean’s wrist. “You mustn’t disturb the unfolding of Dean and Castiel’s romantic tragedy,” he told him pleasantly. “Why don’t you stay and talk? Dean rarely talks.”
“Why,” Dean started but had to stop, his entire form seized by a bone-shaking chill and the scream died in his throat when he looked at the almost pitying smile on his brother’s face. All he could force out as a pained groan was another “why”.
“It was supposed to happen. My brother did me a great favor by tearing down that terribly irritating wall you had put up.” Dean was unable to move and the man in front of him still smiled, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Why are you so surprised, Dean? I had to win.”
“Win?!” Dean finally forced out and pulled his arm from Sam’s grip. Sam! Why hadn’t the other Dean said anything?! Why hadn’t he realized that what sat before him wasn’t Sam?! “How can you possibly consider this winning?!”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Dean,” Lucifer said, drawing his hands through his hair and tugging them behind his ears. Dean actually took a moment to process this shocking development, forcing his terrified mind into at least some semblance of calm. There was no white suit and he was traveling around with Dean instead of raining down fire and lightning on everyone. There were no demons, nothing to hunt. Sam’s clothes were slightly dirty, his hair not freshly washed. Nothing about him was that pristine being in a glaringly white suit. Dean widened his eyes in sudden realization.
“You’re mortal!” Lucifer sighed, seemingly only mildly irritated. “You’re stranded and graceless, just like Cas was in that other future!”
“What did I say about details, Dean?” Lucifer asked him, totally unconcerned and Dean didn’t actually find it within himself to be only the slightest bit happy about that development. Because Sam… Sam was lost once again. “Fate is a really peculiar thing, don’t you think?” Lucifer asked.
“There’s no more such thing, we stopped all that destiny crap,” Dean ground out, glaring at the fire so he didn’t have to look at what was left of his brother.
“And yet we are here. What damage one angel can do when he’s been influenced by humans,” he mused and Dean wanted to shut him up. It might even be satisfying to slam his fist into Lucifer’s face, knowing he could knock him out, knowing he could actually kill him with his very hands. But what point was there to it? He would just kill Sam too, if he still was in there.
“What will happened to Cas?” Dean forced himself to ask, because Lucifer might be a complete dick and Dean was shaken to the bones, but he was still a source of information.
“Very similar to that annoying little stunt you pulled with me,” Lucifer told him, “he’s going to gather them and return to Purgatory with them. Becoming the White Goddess will give him enough strength to do it. The Leviathan were a bit careless when they tried to put him back together according to their wishes. They should have kept him weak, tearing out the rest of his mutated Grace instead of just leaving it underneath all that leviathan filth. By trying to fulfill their prophecy, they also doomed themselves back to Purgatory. Not that they’ll care that much if they have their Queen.”
“So… Cas will be gone…?” Lucifer nodded, “why can’t he just toss them back without jumping in there as well?”
“Because he’s already becoming one of them, I’m sure you noticed all the ways he’s different. It’s too late. If you want the Leviathan gone from Earth that’s the only way to do it now.” Lucifer wasn’t very sympathetic, not that Dean had expected anything else, but the thought of losing Castiel to the Leviathan once again was almost as terrible as the thought of soon losing Sam.
“There’s got to be a way to stop this future from happening,” he hissed and Lucifer just leant back against their supplies, arms crossed and he watched Dean with a pleased smile.
“Yes? Feel free to try,” he said and closed his eyes, the smile still staying in place. Dean was left to his own devices, with the shell of his brother falling into a light sleep and the fire throwing shades across his face.
So he was bound to fail. He didn’t know how it had happened, how the devil had slipped out of the hallucinations and into the body of Sam. He didn’t know what had happened at the bottom of the lake where Castiel had perished. He didn’t know what was going on in this time. He felt powerless and weak, tired and afraid. He wanted to go home, but he was scared that he would just end up here again once the two years had passed.
Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Sam? Can you hear me?” he asked, but only the fire and the even breathing of Lucifer replied. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, “come on. Come on. Sammy?”
“Dean?” The voice was weak and confused, but it was Sam. Dean breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank God. Sorry, I just had to make sure you were still okay,” he said and next to Lucifer he could now also hear the deep, almost sleepy breathing of his brother, two years away, but still safe.
“Is everything okay?” Sam asked him, his voice now full of concern. Dean couldn’t help smiling, shaking his head.
“No… No, nothing’s okay here. It’s mad… Sorry… I just… Sorry, it’s been a crazy few days.” Sam actually chuckled and Dean could hear him take a sip of something, probably coffee. “Hey, Sammy?”
“Hm?” Dean looked over at Lucifer’s sleeping form, just like Sam when his mouth wasn’t stretched into that unfamiliar, superior smile.
“I know you don’t like it, but it’d be best if you just went to sleep,” he said after a while. Judged by the impatient sigh on the other side of their soul-mate phone Sam wasn’t about to grant his request. “Sam, I’m being serious. You shouldn’t take your hallucinations lightly.”
“Believe me Dean, I’m not. But I do know my limits,” he said, “and I’d rather breech them than let you be stranded in the future.”
“No, Sam, please.”
“No. It’s already past 6. I can manage till noon,” he assured him but Dean wasn’t happy. Every moment Sam pushed beyond his limits, Lucifer might be getting one step closer. “Why are you so desperate to get me to stop?”
“Because Cas will be able to send me back and because…,” he had to clear his throat and look away from Sam’s body now sprawled over the blanket. “You’re not well in this time, Sam… I don’t want this to happen to you.” Sam was silent for a long moment and Dean was afraid that the already faint connection had broken off. Maybe he should have left the circle to get better reception, but he didn’t dare to move away from camp.
“Okay,” Sam said, “I can only pull you back if you’re at the designed place. I’m not sure if I can pull you back earlier, but I can at least try.”
“Dude, I’m in Pennsylvania. How am I supposed to get to Illinois without Cas?” he hissed and looked around. Castiel was nowhere to be seen and he didn’t hear any voices either.
“And where is Cas?” Sam wondered and Dean got up from his place at the fireside. He walked around, following the lines in the ground, to get the feeling back into his legs and maybe calm his nerves down as well.
“Hell if I know. Future me is probably giving him the last night on earth speech,” he said in irritation, a bit glad that Sam laughed at that.
“Dude, no, you’re not!” he protested and Dean only shrugged. Even though Sam couldn’t see it Dean huffed. “Oh my god, you totally are!” Hearing the incredulous laughter in Sam’s voice made Dean smile despite his rather subdued mood.
“I don’t know if he is, man! And in my - his defenses, Cas got the body of a hot chick right now. Smells quite nice too.” Dean wondered if his future self could smell it too and if he had better self-control in case he did.
“Sure.” Dean could hear the smile in Sam’s voice and he let himself grin too. “So… How will you get to Illinois?”
“I don’t know…,” Dean said with a groan, wiping his palm over his face, “I have to wait for Cas… This would be so much easier if you just listened to your big brother.”
“But I won’t, so stop whining,” Sam said with finality and Dean hated how stubborn Sam had to be at times. “People can live for a while without sleep.” Dean snorted.
“If that was supposed to encourage me, it totally failed. And even if that’s true, normal people don’t have Satan parading through their head,” he argued and the huff on the other side implied that Sam rolled his eyes at him. Then Sam yawned and Dean sighed. “Okay, I think this is not helping you to stay lucid. Just…”
“I know. You try to stay out of trouble those last couple of hours,” Sam told him, then, with a sharper voice added: “no stupid heroic stuff, okay?”
“What?” Dean asked with a bemused expression, shaking his head at his brother, “You know I’m not into heroic stuff.”
“Yeah, whatever Dean. Just get your ass where it’s supposed to be,” he said and Dean just had time enough to hum in agreement before silence settled again in his ears. He listened some more, just in case Sam had anything else to say, but he only heard the fire and a faint blowing. The sky in the distance was getting darker again, like storm clouds closing in on them. There was still a lot of that muted daylight and a look at his watch confirmed that it was about twenty past 6 in his own time. So it must be after two in the afternoon, but it was as always hard to tell.
Not seeing Dean and Castiel returning and believing that no matter what the two of them were up to, it might take them more than just a moment, Dean sat back down, grabbing the Leviathan Gospel. The other Dean must have taken the Lament with him again, which was quite a shame seeing as that one seemed to be more valuable in terms of usefulness. Looking through the very first page, translation and origin note excluded, Dean soon realized that it would be quite a strain to work through this book. It wasn’t written in verses, thank God, but it was still strangely poetic in its wording. He could recognize his own notes in the margins of the book, trying to decipher the metaphors and terms, noting down references to other parts in the book and various other things. Dean sighed and set himself to the task of reading through the mythological foundation of the Leviathan.
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