Decisions, Decisions.

What is this?

Only bar for 100 miles, Nebraska.

The Chevelle leaned into the dusty sand lot for Harvelle's. Two doors opened and slammed shut as Dean and Alex exited. He cautioned her to stay in line behind him.

"Like I said, these are friends," said Dean. "Just...they don't know it yet. Stay close. Lots of hunters in there." Alex nodded.

They entered the bar and several people turned to judge them. Dean stared ahead stone-faced as Alex glanced around. It didn't look out of the ordinary to her so she settled down quickly. Convinced they weren't anything to be worried about the stares turned elsewhere. Dean moseyed up to the bar with Alex in tow. He saw Ellen right away and though he wasn't one to get choked up a little something caught in his throat. It was good to see her alive. Dean made a mental note to keep it that way this time. He didn't see Jo. Probably still at school.

"Ellen," he said to her, nodding.
She looked back at him blankly. "Do I know you?"

Dean gathered up all of his confidence for the next part. He knew Ellen was not a woman to be messed with.

"Uh, no, but my Dad does. John Winchester." Ellen raised an eyebrow at this reveal. "He sent me this way. I'm helping this one" -- he motioned back to Alex -- "track down a couple of demons." Alex gave a tentative smile as Dean continued. "Just needed to get off the road for a little bit."

Ellen was toweling down the bar. She digested Dean's story slowly. Dean's heart rate increased with every moment in silence.

"John Winchester, huh? Suppose that would make you Dean. I haven't talked to him in months now, but..." Ellen paused as if going against her better judgment. "What'll ya have?"

Dean ordered for them both and heaved a sigh of relief as Ellen walked off to fetch their beers. They claimed bar stools and Dean started looking around for Ash. Ellen dropped off their beers and started up some motivated small talk.

“So Dean, what brings you to our neck of the woods." Dean wheeled back around to face Ellen.
"A few days ago I caught the trail of this pack of demons that's tracking west," Dean began. He was not eager to get into angel chatter, so instead he talked around it. "Have you heard any talk about one named Ipos?"
Ellen shook her head. "Sorry," she said. "Hunters don't usually wait around for formal introductions."
"Yeah," Dean agreed, taking a swig of beer. "Seen any strange omen patterns around lately?"
"As a matter of fact we have. But you'll need to talk to Ash about that," Ellen said.
"Where is he, anyway?" Dean asked.
"Oh, you know him?" Ellen asked suspiciously.
"I've heard," Dean replied. Ellen eyed Dean for a moment. He tried to give his best version of Sam's Puppy Dog Eyes of Compliance. It seemed to work as Ellen offered to get Ash. A few minutes later she came back with the mulleted genius.

Dean gave Alex instructions and then set off to talk to Ash. Ellen returned behind the bar.
"You traveling with Dean?" Ellen asked.
"Yeah," Alex said.
"You been with him long?"
"Not really. I just kind of fell into this whole thing." Alex laughed, and Ellen nodded in understanding. There was a brief pause and then Alex launched into her task. "So, do you know Bobby Singer?"
"Sure I know Bobby. One of the smartest hunters around."
"We were headed up that way and we crossed paths with a hunter who told us to turn back. Is everything OK with him?"
Ellen frowned. "I just talked to him yesterday so I sure hope so."
"Well, I think we're gonna head back up that way. I'll have Dean let you know how it goes."

Dean and Ash came over together. "Ash said the coast is clear in South Dakota," Dean said. "And everything looks fine for now in California. But there's a whole mess heading towards Colorado and Wyoming."
"Wyoming?" Ellen said. She grabbed a folder from below the back counter. "If you are heading up there you should take a look into this."
"I don't know that we'll have time to..." Dean started to say but Alex elbowed him. She took the folder from Ellen.
"What happened?" Alex asked.
"About a week ago a guy disappeared up near Cheyenne. His wife says he went camping with a friend out near Glendo. Then three days ago the friend stumbles back into town torn up something awful and says his friend was kidnapped. Meanwhile about two towns over another couple had been slaughtered in their sleep. Hardly anything left of them."

Alex showed Dean the article from the Cheyenne Tribune-Eagle. Dean scanned down to where Alex's finger was pointing. The couple appeared to have been killed by a wild animal.
"Sound familiar?" She asked Dean.
He nodded in return and agreed to look into it. And with everything he needed now lined up Dean was ready to go. They all said their goodbyes.

******

Cheyenne, Wyoming.

It was midday but the sky was dark. Dean and Alex had been driving through non-stop thunderstorms and had chosen Wyoming over Colorado to avoid tornados. They had been listening to classic rock but as they lost the station Alex was fiddling with the tuner, trying to lock in on another one.

"Another 10 died last night in Eastern Colorado after three tornados touched down outside of Sterling," the radio announcer said. Dean reached over and snapped the radio off.
"You think this is the same pack of demons?" He asked Alex.
"You're the expert, but, yeah." She replied.

Dean noticed that Alex seemed distracted. She hadn't said much on the drive and seemed to be staring off into space. Dean hadn't thought about it too hard but the whole situation was probably nerve-racking to her. He had been so far from normal for so long that he forgot how strange his life was. He was accustomed to it. She was not.

Dean started talking to Alex but noticed she didn't respond. She was a million miles away. He tapped her on the arm. She popped back into the moment and spun to face him.

"I know this whole deal must seem rotten to you," Dean said. "I'm going to help you though. I won't let you down. I'll help you clean up whatever mess this is before I go." He tried to reassure her. Alex smiled in return.
"Thanks, Dean," she said. And meant it.

She took a breath as though she had to more to say. Instead she just exhaled and looked back out the window. Dean stared at her for a moment before shifting his focus back to the road ahead.

******

Cold, cold storage.

Dean, for now known as Agent Dennis DeYoung of the US Department of the Interior, entered the morgue dressed in his best suit. His only suit. He asked to see the bodies of Gerald and Nancy Hobart, the couple who'd been killed in their sleep by a "wild animal" a few days earlier. The chief medical examiner brought him back to the cages, opened two metal doors and pulled the bodies out.

"Must have been one angry bear," the doctor noted before leaving the room.
Dean pulled down the sheet to look at Mr. Hobart first. He winced as the body was revealed. Deep scratches covered what was left his chest and arms. Part of his ribs were exposed and Dean could see the man's intestines starting to leak out a bit. It was gruesome. It was almost certainly not a bear.

He turned his attention to Nancy. She had a similar look to her but Dean noted that there was an additional trail of burns down her arm. Like acidic drool...or sulfur. He looked at the autopsy notes. Sure enough traces of sulfur had been found on both bodies. That confirmed it.

Dean headed back out to the car, loosening his tie.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Alex asked as he got in. She was holding a hex bag Dean had given her to throw any nearby demons off their scent.
"Just the bad news I was hoping for," Dean confirmed. "Hellhounds. I'm sure of it. We have to go to the house. Take a look around."

******

Home sweet Hobarts'.

Dean parked the Chevelle down the street and popped the trunk. He took out two knives, two guns and some equipment. He handed Alex one of the guns and Sam's demon-killing knife.

"Probably won't need these," he said to reassure them as he handed them to her.
Alex looked both frightened and amused by his assurances. "Thanks," she said sarcastically.

They crossed under the caution tape and headed into the crime scene. The front door was scraped up. Though it was day it was still nice and dark so Dean and Alex turned on their flashlights and looked around for evidence of demons and their dogs. A few pieces of furniture were broken and an area rug was torn out of place. Dean looked around the windows and doors for traces of sulfur but saw none. Alex was looking at the family photos.

"They had two kids," she noted.
Dean was barely affected by the revelation. "Crime scene report says they died in their beds."

He walked towards the stairs. Alex followed him up. The master bedroom was at the end of the hallway. The door was covered in claw marks. Dean opened the door and Alex gasped. They were met with another bloody scene. Blood had sprayed across the walls, covered the formerly white bedspread and pooled on the carpet. There was a trail running back towards the bathroom. On top of that the room smelled like more than just two dead bodies. Alex covered her face with her arm to subdue the smell. Dean continued inward.

Dean went to the window. No sulfur. He followed the trail into the bathroom. There was a small window in there and along that sill he found a huge pile of sulfur and a trail of blood going out the window. It had been marked with a card reading "8". He called to Alex and opened the window further. The lower tier of the roof ran right up to the window. This was how the demon got in. Dean crawled out and saw more sulfur. He followed it.

Alex ran downstairs to meet him around the outside. It was windy out and the trees swayed against a dark grey sky. She watched through the leaves as Den made his way down to the end of the roof. Alex ran around the corner of the house to meet him.

"Dean! I think you need to see this!"

The lowest part of the roof was just over a story up. Dean shone his flashlight down to the ground around Alex. He spotted something shiny off behind her.

"See where my flashlight is?" Dean asked. Alex nodded. "Grab that!" Then he crouched down and jumped off the roof. He turned to see what Alex had been looking at.

"What is that?" Alex asked about the symbol she'd spotted on the house as she returned with the item Dean had spotted. She held it by two fingers on the handle and kept it as far as possible from her body, as if it were a dead animal.
"A sigil," Dean sighed.
"What's a sigil?"
"It's like angel-B-gon," Dean explained. He took the crime scene report out of his back pocket. "Looks like the wife died upstairs but the husband died down here on the driveway." He said.
"Huh, kinda makes sense," Alex said. Dean looked at her. "These symbols, they look like some kind of Hebrew. They're numbers...or coordinates."
Dean remembered Alex had mentioned being a language expert. "Enochian. Know where the coordinates go?"
"No idea," Alex said. "There's one symbol on the bottom though. It looks like devil, or demon maybe."
Dean shone his flashlight over it. Then to a pool of blood marked "12". "I don't get it. If there was an angel here then why..."
His thought was interrupted by a voice calling out.
"Hey you!" A man approached them. It was the next-door neighbor. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Dean," Alex gasped, and grabbed Dean's arm. He motioned for her to relax.
"Just checking in from the CSI unit," Dean said. "Needed to make sure all the events were labeled correctly."
The man looked at Dean skeptically and said, "I'm calling the cops."
"No problem, we're leaving," Dean said and pulled Alex towards the car. She tucked the knife into her coat. As they passed by the neighbor she gripped Dean's hand tightly. They got into the Chevelle and drove off.
"Not a fan of the neighbor?" Dean asked teasingly.
"You couldn't see his face?" Alex asked, eyes wide.
"I guess he did have a little Freddy Krueger to him," Dean supposed.
"No, Dean. It was disgusting. His eyes were sunk back, his skin was grey and leathery and his mouth was black and nearly toothless! Tell me you didn't see it."
"And it was kind of jerking around in faster time?" He asked.
"Yeah. You did see it?"
"Sonofabitch," he said. Dean turned stony-faced and stared straight ahead. He needed to find a hotel. They weren't going anywhere.

******

Hotel room o'the Episode.

Dean threw his bag down on one of the beds and started removing his suit. On the car ride over he'd explained to Alex that she was seeing the neighbor's true face -- his demon face. He guessed it was because of what had happened to her when she was kidnapped. He asked her if she'd ever been visited by an angel, but Alex shook her head no. Dean wondered to himself if she was actually already an angel and didn't know it. Like Anna.

Alex took out her laptop and started setting it up on the lone table in the room. Dean was back in jeans within seconds. She caught a sideways glance of Dean taking off his shirt.

"Whoa," she said. Dean smiled.
"I get that a lot," he teased.
"Your tattoo...what is it?" Alex asked.
"Wards off demon possession," he replied.
Alex pulled down the collar on her own shirt and revealed an identical tattoo.
"When did you get that?" Dean asked, stunned.
"A few years ago. I was drunk in Vegas and the tattoo artist convinced me to get it."

Dean used the time it took to get his tee and plaid back on to consider his next move. He worried that telling Alex too much would scare her but it was clear that leaving her in the dark meant he might be missing important information.

"Well, good news for both of us. Wastes a lot less rock salt that way." Playing it close to the chest as usual.

Alex felt her anger rising. She had been quiet too long. "That's it? We find out we have the same tattoos which just so happen to ward off demon possession and you make a cheap joke? Dean, don't you think I've been in the dark long enough here?" Alex asked, her voice rising along the way.
"There's nothing to talk about." Dean insisted.
"You're kidding," Alex said frantically. "I got kidnapped by some demon, I apparently stopped the demon by some kind of angel mojo -- to use your words -- I can see demon faces on people now but there's nothing to talk about? I don't even know why I'm sticking with you."
"You wanna leave now? Be my guest. Don't let me keep you here," Dean replied angrily. "I'm just trying to save your life. But don't let that stop you from walking on out of here and getting yourself killed, or worse."
Alex threw her arms up in disgust. Dean grabbed his coat.
"Forget it," she said. "Don't leave. I'm hungry. I'm going to get some food." And with that it was Alex who left the hotel room.
"You shouldn't go out alone," Dean called after her. And then: "Don't let any hellhounds grab hold of that stick up your ass!"

She pretended not to hear him.

Dean opened Alex's laptop. He saw she'd been researching Ipos and started catching up. This demon was known to have a lion's head in Hell. Not unlike a seraph. There was another page up he couldn't read, but he saw in pictures what looked like a demon dragging an angel down to hell. There was another demon in one of the pictures, and in the last panel what had been an angel now looked like a demon. Dean pushed the laptop away. So Ipos was dragging angels to Hell? Or their vessels? Both? He was suddenly nervous for Alex. He took out the cellphone Bobby had given him and called her.

A little while later Dean was furiously clicking away at Alex's computer. Alex was polishing off one of the beers Dean had asked her to get.

"You said the Hobarts had two kids, right?" Dean asked.
Alex nodded.
"Well, one of them died last week. Jumped off a bridge outside Minneapolis. The other one is still alive. For now. A student at the University of Wyoming."
"So the demons are probably headed that way," Alex said.
Dean nodded. "Something doesn't add up though."
Alex saw the knife she'd grabbed back at the Hobarts' on the table next to him.
"And the knife?"
"It's not a knife. It's a scimitar."
"A what?"
"It's a knife that can kill an angel."
Alex plopped down into the chair across from Dean.
"I don't get it. The sigil and now this thing? Was it an angel back at the Hobarts' or a demon?"
"Maybe both," Dean said. "If this demon is killing off vessel bloodlines they're gonna go after the kid up in Laramie next. So we find him first."

******

Home of the Cowboys.

Alex ran back out to the Chevelle, which was parked out in front of one of the campus dorms. "Roommate says Jake's down at the campus track. It's about a 5-minute walk from here."

They walked together and saw what looked like the football team doing sprints on the track's grassy inner field. Dean recognized Jake from his high school yearbook photo and the two approached.

"Jake Hobart?" Dean called. Jake nodded.
"I'm Special Agent Buckingham and that's Agent Nicks. We're from the FBI."
Jake briefly looked at their badges. "You here to ask about my parents? Or about my sister?" Dean and Alex both looked down at the ground.
"It's been one hell of a week," Jake continued. "But I don't know why the FBI is getting mixed up in all of this now. It's over."
"We just need to ask you a few questions and then we'll get out of your hair," Dean said calmly. "Had your sister or parents told you about anything strange in the days before they died? Mentioned any unusual people or anything like that?"
"My sister's boyfriend broke up with her. So she decided to jump off a bridge," Jake said coldly. "And my Dad reappeared after being missing for 3 years. So yeah, I'd say this week was a little unusual."
"Your father was missing?"
"That's right. He just walked out of the house one night in the middle of Monday Night Football. No reason, nothing. We searched the whole damn country for him. Got you guys involved too. Lot of good that did. No trace of him. Then two months ago out of the blue he shows up back at home. My Mom -- she couldn't believe it. They were just getting settled back in to being together. My sister and I were supposed to go back this weekend. But you probably already knew that."
"We have reason to believe your parents might not have been killed in an animal attack," Dean hated to say it. Jake's face twisted.
"What? Why would you...look, you guys were no help to my family then and you're certainly no help now. Why don't you just leave town?" And with that Jake turned his back on them.
"Just one last question," Alex called out, surprising all three of them. "Do you have any tattoos?"
"Tattoos? Really? No, I don't have any. My sister had one of some knot thing. Said it warded off evil spirits or something. She was into that crap."
Dean pulled at Alex's arm so she'd stop. He motioned for them to leave.

******

Pig 'N A Pokeless Diner.

"Here's something interesting," Alex said, looking at her laptop screen while talking to Dean. "Jake Hobart hasn't been in any of his classes or at any of his football practices in almost two weeks. There's a note from the athletics department -- they tried calling his parents to see if he'd gone there."
"So Jake goes missing and Daddy Angel reappears?" Dean mused.
"Dean, what if an angel was the one attacking the Hobarts? Maybe Jake's dad wasn't done with his mission yet?"
"I've seen angels do some pretty crazy things," Dean replied. "But they don't kill their vessels. I don't think so anyway. Cas would know." He looked forlorn.
Alex tensed up as two men walked into the diner.
"Messed-up demon faces?" Dean asked. Alex nodded. Dean slid down in the booth and motioned for Alex to head out the back door. She clicked her laptop shut, slid it in her messenger bag and made her way towards the back. The two men cut her off.
"Going somewhere?" One asked. His eyes flipped beetle black. "Don't want you to miss the show."

From behind them, Dean jumped and pulled one of the demons down from behind. Alex quickly wheeled around and knocked the other one over with the force of her messenger bag. They both worked to escape their respective demons. Dean tussled with his on the ground until the demon rolled him over and took the upper hand. It stood up, taking Dean with it by the collar and slammed him into the side of the booth. It pulled him back and did it again, this time crushing Dean's face into the glass partition. Dean was pulled back again bloodier. He used the force of the pullback to his advantage and threw his weight backwards, forcing him and the demon down onto a table. The demon hit the back of its head with a satisfying thump. Dean used the second of downtime to spin around and started punching the demon before picking him up and shoving him back down onto the table.

Alex meanwhile was not faring as well. She had knocked the demon over momentarily but it quickly stood back up and knocked her back into the bar. Her head hit against the corner, partially knocking her out. While she struggled back to full consciousness the demon picked Alex up and threw her over the bar. She landed on the wet floor mat below. She picked herself back up slowly and grabbed a broom lying across the floor, smacking the demon with it. Alex spotted her messenger bag and quickly pulled out the holy water within. She shook the bottle and sprayed at the demon. It cried out in pain and staggered backwards. But then it charged over the bar and onto Alex. It started hitting her.

She cried out and Dean looked over. Enough was enough. "You wanna tell me what you're doing here?" He asked the demon. It looked at him and hissed. "Fine." Dean started Latinating and the demon below him started vomiting smoke. Dean raced through the 3 verses and expelled the demon from its host. The man collapsed back onto the table, bloody and possibly dead.
Dean flew over to the bar where he heard the demon growling on top of Alex. As he ran to the end of the bar Alex was wrestling the demon. She managed to get one hand free and reached over her own body. She grabbed the knife and plunged it towards the demon. It twisted away and turned it back towards her. Dean grabbed the demon and once again started chanting Latin verse. The demon coughed black smoke out onto Alex as it was exorcised. The host collapsed on top of her. Alex whimpered, stuck under the weight. Dean ran over, pulled the host off of her and helped her up. She collapsed into his arms. He felt the blood trickling down the back of her neck.

"You OK?" He asked her.
"I hit my head," she said woozily. "But I'm OK."
They heard a groan from behind them and the former demon across the table stirred back to life.
"What happened to you?" Dean asked.
"I don't know. One second I was hanging out with a couple of friends and the next thing I know I'm here."
"Which friends?" Dean demanded.
"Pete Tyers and Jake Hobart. You know 'em?"

******

Home of the Cowboys (and the Demons).

Dean and Alex approached the dorm cautiously. No signs of any demons outside. They waited for students to walk out so they could get in. Then they ran up to Jake's room. The door was open. Jake's roommate had met an unfortunate end on the couch. There was a bloody knife and Jake on his knees not too far away. He was slouched over, back to Alex and Dean.

My roommate," Jake said when he heard them come in. "He just...he just came after me. I don't know what was wrong with him." Dean motioned for Alex to go along one wall as he went along the other. Dean took out his gun and prepared to shoot. Quickly, he cocked the gun and took aim.

"My roommate," Jake said again, his voice a mix of surprise and bemusement. "He said something was wrong with me." He turned to Dean as the hunter launched a rock salt bullet. It hit Jake square in the chest but did nothing. The ‘oh shit’ look spread to Dean's face.

"Do you know what happens when you mix an angel with a demon, Dean?" The meatsuit formerly known as Jake asked. "Resistance to that which harms either."

He grabbed Dean by the neck and started squeezing. Alex, across the room, sprang into action. She ran across the room and stabbed the demon in the back with Sam's knife. Nothing happened. Jake remained on the ground. She fiddled through her bag and tried a silver knife. Nothing. Then a brass one. Notta. After a few more knives, the demon, arm still firmly around Dean's neck, turned around.

"That tickles," it said. It used its free arm to smack Alex back. She recovered and reached into her bag of tricks one more time. This time she grabbed the scimitar. She wasn't close enough to stab so she ran it across the demon's back. It opened a gash which emitted a ray of light and it doubled over in pain, dropping Dean. He landed on his stomach, coughing. Alex ran over and put him over her shoulder and then started to run the other way towards the door.

"Roof," he coughed out. He grabbed Alex's bag and they made their way out together. Alex took Dean around the corner from the door and let him down. Then she quickly turned a water bottle into holy water. When the demon came out she sprayed it with the water. It roared and smoke arose off of it.

"What a bonus," the demon said. "I was just on my way to recruit your bodyguard's brother, and I run into another of the 10 most wanted vessels right here." It stumbled towards Alex and grabbed her face. Dean saw it put a hand on her forehead like he'd seen angels do to so many demons, and each other. He'd been working on his own plan but launched into double time when the saw the light appear in her eyes.

"Hey!" Dean said. The demon turned to look at him, dropping Alex. "See ya later!" Dean pressed his bloody hand into the sigil and the demon was engulfed by white light. It roared for a moment before the sound disappeared as it did. Alex was on the ground gasping for air. Dean was still coughing himself.

They halved the distance to each other.

"How did you know to do that?" Alex asked between gasps. "And what was that thing?"
"No idea," Dean said, heaving. His arm dripped freely. "Part demon, part angel, all suck."

******

Hotel room o'the Episode.

"It was here for someone," Alex said. "I wish we knew who."
"You, it sounded like," Dean said absently.
"It said it was on its way to recruit your brother," Alex recalled. "Is that the family thing you were talking about? Ground zero?"
"No," Dean admitted. "Means we now have a reason to get out west as quickly as possible though."
"What about the guy we originally came here about?"
"Bob Gaffert," Dean said from across the table.
"Who?"
"The guy in Ellen's file who disappeared." Dean spun the laptop around. "This guy look familiar to you?"
Alex looked at the police sketch of the kidnapper. "Jake Hobart? What's he got to do with that?"
"Says in the police report that Gaffert's friend told police that the man fitting this description approached them in the woods and swiped him. Friend said, 'I heard him tell Gaffert that his mission was over before it started.'"
"Yikes."
"Yeah. We gotta get to Bobby's." He grabbed the car keys and his backpack. Alex packed up too and they headed for the car.
"Weird how none of the demon-hurting tools got to it but the angel ones did." She noted.
"Cas was trying to warn me. I think the amulet plays a role somehow." Dean said.
Alex nodded. Was Dean sharing with her? Amazing.
Meanwhile Dean was putting pieces together in his head. And with that there was a change of plans.
"Well, according to you we're not supposed to see your friend Bobby..."
"We're not, we're going west."
"Ready for some family history then?"
"Just gotta make a quick stop. Check things out with Sam. Pick up a little something. Then we go back to South Dakota," Dean said.
"That's quite the diversion," Alex said. "Wake me when we're there."

Sidewinder.

What is this?

Lawrence, Kansas.

Mary Winchester heard Baby Sam crying so she instinctually went into the nursery to check on him. Leaning over the crib, she noticed an odd dark spot near Sam's mouth -- was that blood? She went to wipe it off when she caught a silhouette out of the side of her eye. Mary spun around and was met with an intense pair of yellow eyes. Suddenly she felt herself thrashed back against the wall.

Adult Sam stepped out of the opposite shadows. "Not this time Azazel," he said. The demon stepped out of the shadows to attack but Sam put his hand up. The demon doubled over, coughing out bits of black smoke. Sam concentrated. Brows furrowed with sweat forming. The effort needed was tremendous but his concentration never wavered. Not as the pain throbbed up his arm and into his heart. Not as his nose started dripping blood. Not as his own eyes flipped beetle black.

Sam expelled the demon from its host and watched as it sank through the floorboards and back down to hell. Satisfied with his work, Sam turned to his mother. She smiled nervously, still backed against the wall. Sam did not smile back.

"This time," he said. "I'll take care of her myself." Hand back up. A scream.

Sam snapped awake in a cold sweat. Nononononono, he thought. An adult temper tantrum as he tried to banish the thoughts -- vision? -- from his head. The nightmares were getting worse. The sun was barely up but Sam would not be going back to bed. Just as he would not be going back to the demon blood. He hadn't seen any demons since Joey was possessed the week before but he was sure they were watching. He was in danger but at least he knew it. His family had no idea. There had to be another way to stop the demon. Sam knew of one.

******

Happy house of Winchester.

Later that same day, the Winchester family was eating dinner. John sat at the head of the table while Mary sat across from him, feeding baby Sam a bottle. Young Dean was between them pushing his vegetables out of the way in favor of the steak and mashed potatoes. And across from Dean sat Sam -- the adult version -- trying to enjoy this odd family dinner. He'd turned down their invite for a week, afraid of creating a paradox. But while Sam couldn't stop staring at his baby self the youngin barely paid attention to anything besides his bottle, his parents, and his diaper. Convinced a wormhole wasn't tearing a hole through the universe, Sam relaxed.

The headaches had started two days before. Sam knew the visions were coming if they hadn't started already. Azazel was getting closer while Sam was still piecing things together. After the demon within Joey had visited him Sam was struggling with how to proceed. His desire to rid the world of the yellow-eyed demon burned strong as ever. His fear of what might come after added an element of hesitation. Sam needed to talk to someone. A hunter. Unfortunately he had no idea where hunters congregated in 1983. Fortunately he knew someone who would know.

After dinner Sam and John sat out on the porch with little Dean while Mary put baby Sam to sleep. Sam found it as uncomfortable as ever to talk to his Dad, especially now with a giant lie between them. John tried talking baseball with Sam. The Royals were in 2nd place in the AL West behind the efforts of Paul Splittorff. Sam wasn't interested. He steered the conversation back towards John -- where he'd grown up, what he did before meeting Mary, what it was like having kids, etc. John wove the tale of his plans to take his sons on a road trip as soon as they were old enough. He had no idea how true that would become.

Eventually Dean's eyes grew heavy and it was John's turn to put a child to bed. He left Mary and Sam outside while he took his oldest son upstairs. It was the moment Sam had been waiting for. He took a moment to compose himself. His leg compulsively shook. His face twisted. Sam tried to make himself relax.

"Mo...Mary," Sam began. "I met your Dad once." Lie. "It was on a hunt actually." Lie. "A, um, ghost hunt."

Mary's eyes grew wide.

"I decided to give all that up a long time ago. But my brother, he kept going on without me. I haven't seen him in years. I'd like to find him again. Do you...know of any hunter gathering places around here? Anywhere I might be able to ask someone?"
"Don't you dare say a word about this to John," Mary shot back.
"Nononono," Sam insisted. "I wouldn't. I just thought maybe you could help."
Mary pursed her lips and considered things for a moment. "Olathe. There's a hotel there called the Rattlesnake with a bar called Sidewinders. And those are the people that go there. Haven't been myself in years but Daddy used to hear about jobs there."

******

Olathe, Kansas.

Sam had used his wages from the shop so far to buy a truck off John. It was an International, blue, with a short bed and a loud muffler. It fit right in as he pulled up to the hotel. Two gentlemen in jeans, Carhartts and baseball caps watched Sam's every move as he exited the truck. He felt himself being watched and nodded in their general direction. They gave him the hairy eyeball in return. He skipped the main lobby and went right into the bar where he was met with more staredowns. Unable to choose a pair of eyes to meet, Sam headed to the safety of the bar.

The bartender sauntered over. Sam ordered a beer and tried to push away all the negative vibes that were swarming him and causing his shoulders to hunch. When the bartender came back Sam struck up a conversation.

"I hear this is a place with people who know things," Sam said, laying down a $50 as his tip. The bartender sniffed and palmed the bill.
"Yeah, we know some things here," the bartender said. "But we're a real tight-knit community, you know? And I've never seen you."
"I'm kinda new to the game," Sam lied. "I've been chasing after something for awhile though and a hunter told me you might be able to help." Sam leaned in, hoping that mentioning a hunter generically would suffice.
The bartender leaned in too. He sensed the bullshit. "Who?"
Sam gulped. Here goes nothing. "Bill Harvelle."

The bartender leaned back, sizing up Sam for a few moments. Then his face eased up. "Really? How is old Bill doing?"
Sam relaxed. He probably owed his life to a man he'd never met and two sassy women (one of whom was not yet born). "Good, you know. Good old Bill!"
"Alright, what have you been chasing?"
"A demon with yellow eyes," Sam said. "I think I have its location squared away but this guy isn't easy to take out. I've heard stories that there's a gun that should do the trick. Trouble is no one knows where it is..."
Sam took out a picture of the Colt hand-drawn from memory. That would be of course Samuel Colt's own handmade gun. The one that opened the gate to hell in Wyoming when Jake put the key in. The one that Sam used to shoot Azazel; far too late though. This was his opportunity to start it all before it began.
"That gun?" The bartender sussed. "Never seen it. Never heard of it either." Sam sensed a lie but wasn't about to make an enemy. He leaned back and took a sip of beer. The bartender moved on down the line and Sam scratched his head, annoyed.
"I've seen that gun," Sam heard to his left. He looked over to an older man wearing a plaid overcoat, long greasy hair practically covering his eyes and a goatee that hadn't been trimmed in months.
"You have? Do you know where it is?" Sam asked intently. The man nodded.
"Yeah, but you're gonna have a really hard time getting to it," the hunter said. "Name's Joe. Joe Brown." They shook hands and Sam introduced himself, real name this time. "About 10 months ago a hunter got a hold of the Colt after taking care of some vengeful spirits out in Iowa. They seemed to want it real bad so he wanted to keep it away from them all. Didn't know what it was for, didn't know what it could do."
"Come on, Dad, quit boring the guy with your old tall tales," said a younger man to Joe's left.
"And this here is my son, David." The young men nodded to each other.
Sam waited expectantly. "So, where is it now?"
"In Dubuque. Buried in a safe bout 20 feet below the ground. The thing's completely booby-trapped too."
Sam's face fell. He shook his head. These things were never easy, were they? "Maybe I could talk to the hunter. Where is he?"
"No one's seen the guy in over a month." Joe said. Sam nodded ruefully. Of course.
"So how do you know about the place?" Sam asked.
Joe smiled and got a little twinkle in his eye. "Cause I helped him hide the damn thing."
"Really?" Sam said.
"You're not the first one to ask about it either. Second one this week in fact."
"Really." Sam said again, face falling even further. The Browns shot each other a look.
"What is so special about that gun anyway?" David asked.
"They say it can kill demons in one shot," Sam explained. "And I'm hunting one powerful demon. Who else was asking about it?"
"Some lady. Looked about your age. That was what, about two weeks ago? Three?" Joe asked his son. David nodded. Three weeks would have been right before Sam arrived. He wondered who the lady was. Didn't seem like these hunters knew her.
"Well, don't twist our legs too hard!" said Joe after a minute of silence. He slapped Sam on the back. "We'll help you out son."
"Great," Sam said as he came back to reality, surprised. "Great!"

The Browns started introducing Sam around to the rest of the hunters. A little while later Sam was done making small talk. He was eager to get on the road. He agreed to follow the Browns to Dubuque since they'd go their own separate ways after. He headed out to the parking lot but noticed something wrong with his truck. The tires -- both ride sides had been slashed.
"Oh come on!" Sam said, kicking one.
"Sorry boy, we weren't sure who you were," one of the hunters called out to him. "There's a gas station right up the road, we'll get you fixed first thing in the morning."

Whether he liked it or not Sam was spending the night at the Rattlesnake Inn.

******

Dubuque, Iowa.

Delayed until daybreak, Sam and the Browns hit the road as soon as they could. They drove along Route 20 towards Dubuque until they hit the road Joe had written down for him -- North Cascade Road. They passed by several farms until he saw the right one. It had a yellow farm house, and to the East set back about 200 yards was a blue barn with a yellow roof, save two black metal sheets. Sam followed the Browns as they drove down the gravel path to the barn.
Sam parked next to the Browns. Joe didn't look happy when he got out of his truck. "Something ain't right," he said. The three men trotted up to the barn. The metal padlock had been broken off and the door had been slid open at one point. David motioned for them to go to the side door.

Once inside Joe flipped a switch. Three overhead lights buzzed to life. Sam noticed plenty of sharp objects lining the walls, from sickles to mower blades to a chainsaw.

For a moment Sam channeled Dean, and popped out a gem: "Good thing these guys keep all their sharp objects in one place!"

Both Browns turned back to give him a dirty look. Sam fake laughed and clapped his hands together. And then he clammed up. And then the smell hit him. None too pleasant. He noticed a dark stain along the concrete floor of the barn -- blood. He moved towards it to see if it was recent but David grabbed him from behind just in time to keep him from stepping on a tripwire. Sam followed the wire and saw it was attached to a jimmy keeping a blade from swinging down, Indiana Jones style.

"Thanks," Sam said quietly.

Sam took a few more steps forward and saw where the blood trail began -- a dead male who'd been shot in the back, propped up against the barn wall. Sam instantly feared they were bullets from the Colt. He checked the body. Hard to tell if it was a case of bad luck or someone taking out something evil. The three live men made it to the Colt's location. They stood just outside a Devil's Trap and in the center sat an iron-tipped shovel. Someone had already dug up the safe and pulled out the case with the Colt. Sam feared it was already gone. Only one way to know for sure. The Browns looked at Sam expectantly. Their lack of movement set off his suspicions.

"Go ahead son," Joe said, motioning to the shovel. Sam side-eyed them.

There was a minute of inaction as father and son stared down tall mop top. Sam walked towards the case. He went to touch it when he felt instant sharp heat against his flesh. He pulled back in pain.

"The case -- it's burning hot!"
Father and son exchanged looks. "It's a hex," said Joe. "Keeps out demons. Humans don't feel a thing but poor possessed bastards..." Joe trailed off.
And then all three simultaneously pulled out guns and started yelling at each other.
"He's a demon!"
"Shoot him!"
"I knew this was a bad idea!"

Sam nervously tipped his gun back and forth between Joe and David, while the Browns kept theirs squarely fixed on him.

"I am not a demon!" Sam said. His mind raced -- was it the demon blood still in him?
"Just step away from the case," David said solemnly.

Sam panicked. He hadn't been sent all the way back just to lose his one opportunity to take out Azazel. That meant the Colt. That meant whatever it took. He looked to the case. He looked to the Browns. He plotted. But common sense won out and he took a few steps back. Joe crept up slowly and went to take the case. But like Sam a minute before he jumped back in pain. Sam and David gave each other looks of confusion.

"What the...someone strengthened the hex. Look around for a bag."
Sam and David split up as Joe checked around the case. Sam stepped over another dead body while David checked the perimeter. Nothing. Then Sam saw it.
"I got it!" He called.
"Good, set the damn thing on fire," Joe said.

Sam pulled a lighter out of his pocket and sent the hex bag up in flames. As he did, a circle of fire appeared around Joe and the case as David and Sam looked on in shock. They heard cracking as the Devil's Trap above began to break.

Their eyes only grew wider when one of the formerly dead men lying across the ground got up and ran up behind Joe. With one quick movement the demon stabbed Joe in the back and grabbed the case. Sam went to pursue but the dead man he'd crossed jumped up to block the path. Sam raised his gun and pumped the demon full of rock salt buck shots as David, across the room to his Dad, who'd fallen in a heap on the floor. David took a knife out of his jacket and went to stab but a force from out of sight yanked him back and down onto the ground. Sam tussled with the salted demon while David struggled to stand. A demon approached David and pushed him back telekinetically towards the sharply appointed wall. David's heels left drag marks in the ground as he slid backwards.

Just as he was about to become a human pincushion David grabbed the demon, wheeled it around and pressed it into the metal instead. The demon cried out as it hit a mixture of elements and then it's face lit up as the demon inside died, taking the unfortunate host with it. David saw another demon approaching and charged into the shadows to meet it. Sam, meanwhile, had grabbed the iron shovel and pummeled the demon that was attacking him. He grabbed his knife and was about to finish the job when he felt himself fly across the room backwards. He dropped his knife on the way. Sam landed on his back and a bit woozy. Even through the haze he could see the yellow eyes before they emerged from the shadows.

"Howdy, Sam. You almost make this too easy," Azazel said, stepping into the dull light about 15 feet away from Sam. He had taken over David's body. "It almost takes the fun out of it."

Joe charged but Azazel flipped him back. "Do you want to end up as a wall ornament? Because I could arrange it." He turned his attention back to Sam, walking towards him. "I knew I was coming for Sam Winchester but no one told me I'd get two for the price of one." He leaned over Sam and lowered his voice. "My, what big...everything you have for a 6-month old."

"I killed you once," Sam said through grit teeth. "And I will do it as many times as I need to."

Azazel laughed. "Funny about these things," the demon said. "The path varies from time to time but the end destination? Always the same. We may have faced off before -- maybe times I remember and you don't, maybe the other way around. It doesn't matter Sam. Your Mom always dies. Your Dad always dies. You and your brother die and come back and die and come back and die and come back some more. You're in an endless loop until one of you breaks the cycle but you're too stupid to do it. There's only one way out of this tailspin. Let Lucifer in and bring on the end. No traps. No games. As long as you and your brother keep fighting it we'll keep doing this over and over til one of us gets it right."

Sam searched the ground for a weapon but didn't see anything. Azazel balled his hand into a fist and twisted. The pain immediately shot through Sam and he cried out in pain. "You're useless to me like this, Sam. I should put you out of your misery right now. But you always were my favorite. I'm still rooting for you even after everything you've done so, so wrong." The demon stopped as he felt heat at his back. He turned a bit to see Joe holding up the Colt aiming straight for him. The man was propped against a stack of hay bales for support. The demon opened his arms and turn to face the father fully.

"Go ahead, shoot me," Azazel said in David's voice. "You can't win them all!"

Joe cocked the gun but knew he couldn't shoot his own son. But it bought Sam enough time to grab his own gun and get a couple of rounds of rock salt into the yellow-eyed monster. Azazel doubled over and Sam forced himself up. He stumbled towards Joe to get the Colt. He grabbed it from the older man's hands as Joe pleaded, "Don't you do it."

Sam turned to face the demon, who smiled and said, "It's OK. I've got somewhere else to be anyway." David's head flew back and the demon evacuated into a cloud of grey smoke. Sam stewed for a moment, and then helped Joe to his feet. David collapsed in a heap for a moment before stirring.

"We have to get your Dad to a hospital," Sam said. The boy nodded and stood up to help.

******

Lawrence, Kansas.

Sam was staring blindly at the Colt. His body was there but his mind was millions of miles away. He wondered if the demon was telling the truth. He wondered if The End was the only way out...obviously his plan hadn't worked or he wouldn't be here. He wondered how his life would be different if his Mom didn't die. Azazel's words galvanized his desire to find out. Sam knew that he and Dean had failed the other two times they'd tried to play with time like this. Was the third time the charm?

He heard a strange sound. Like bells. It snapped him back to reality. After a moment he realized his cell phone was ringing. He slowly walked over, wide-eyed. No reception but it was ringing. Unknown call. Nervously he picked it up.

"Hello?"
"Sam." Said Castiel.
"Cas? Cas! Is Dean with you?"
"I was hoping he'd be with you," Cas replied. "Sam, Dean was shot back in time."
"Yeah, me too. I'm back home in 1983 -- where is he?" Sam pulled the phone away as static took over.
"Sam, I don't have much time. Listen to me. We need to arrange to meet."
Sam didn't reply.
"Sam? Are you still with me?"
"I'm not going back," Sam said softly. "Not yet."
"This is a trick, Sam," Castiel said. "You can't change destiny. Any effect you have on the natural order of time could have huge repercussions..." The line was overpowered with static for a moment. "...you don't get second chances with fate."
"I don't care how it happened or who sent me here, Cas. I have a chance to save my family. And I'm not going to walk away from it."
"Sam..." Sam hung up the phone. It started ringing again. Sam unplugged it from the wall and removed the battery.
"Sorry, Cas," Sam said in a determined tone. "Team Free Will rides again."

The next morning at work, a familiar car was held in the air by the hydraulic lift at Woodson's garage. Sam couldn't help but smile as he approached the Impala. If he didn't know better he'd swear the car was smiling back at him as John worked on the brakes underneath.

"Don't try to steal her this time Sammy," John joked as he saw his coworker approaching.
"Nah, she belongs in the Winchester family," Sam replied, tracing the slight fin from the front quarter panel back along the driver's side door. "Need some help?"
"Just about done here actually," John said. "But if you want to help me wax her, I'd be inclined to share some of that beer in the fridge with you."

"Done," Sam agreed. He grabbed a fresh rag as John set the Impala down gently. He tossed a second one over to his didn't-know-it Dad, and grabbed the wax. John hopped in the driver's side and rolled the outside into the gravel. He hopped back out, grabbed the hose and began washing the car. As he finished a section Sam followed after with the hose to clean the soap off. The sun shone brightly on the pair and the black car dried quickly. After the car dried John backed it into the shade and they got to work. John checked to make sure Sam had the right technique down. Sam had of course learned from Dean who'd in turn learned from John. The technique was right.

Sam started working the wax over the trunk. His mind wandered as muscle memory took over. He wondered where -- or when -- Dean was. He wondered if he was in the same dilemma, trying to weigh the risk and reward of interfering. Sam had always been the more fatalistic of the pair. What would Dean do? And would Sam let himself try the same thing?

******

Middle of nowhere, Nebraska.

Dean was absently waxing his current ride, contemplating similar dilemmas as Sam. He and Alex were parked on a highway rest stop as Dean tried to figure out their next move. Truth was he was nervous about heading out to California. Any previous attempts to change the course of their family history had crashed and burned. And though that wasn't really his goal anyway he worried about getting too close. Alex was sitting a short ways off at one of the rest area's picnic tables. She had her laptop open and was trying to research Ipos. Many of the websites Dean suggested hitting either didn't exist or were far from complete. She was antsy.

"Dean?" She asked, turning to him.
"Almost done," he said.
Alex walked over. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalling."
Dean stopped waxing momentarily. "Just thinking."
"What are we waiting for exactly?" She tried again.
"There's a bar not too far from here where hunters meet up. I want to see if anyone knows about this demon that wants to take you on a date to Hell." Dean couldn't help smirking at the last part.
"Cute," Alex snarked in return. "What about heading west?"
"You sure you don't remember anything?" Dean asked, changing the subject. "No family disappearances? No crazy aunt or uncle walking around saying they could talk to angels before? Nothing?"
Alex searched her memories. "Nothing," she confirmed, shaking her head.
Dean was done waxing the car. He polished the last bit in with the cloth, then stood back to admire his work.

After a moment, Alex tried one last time. "Anything you want to tell me Dean?" She asked, not letting the subject drop. "Like, what's out west exactly?"
"Nothing good," Dean said from behind the open trunk.
"That's specific," Alex sighed. Dean slammed the trunk closed.
"You got a demon chasing you right now? Try this: I had one chasing my family and I didn't even know it. Thought we were chasing it. You wanna know what's out west? Ground zero. And I can't do a damn thing about it. I tried -- I tried over and over to save my family from that fate and it never worked. I'm not stalling but I don't have any desire to be anywhere near what's going to happen. Seems like you're the special little snowflake that might change things. So I'm not exactly raring to bring you anywhere near that either." Dean unloaded.
Alex digested. "OK," she said softly after a moment. "Well, glad I ripped that one out of you before it reached the boiling point. Keeping me safe...done a good job so far. So, we go to this hunter bar?"
Dean had been expecting a fight in return. He was relieved by Alex's relief. "Yeah," he replied. "Harvelle's."
Alex nodded and got in the car. Dean slipped into the driver's side. The Chevelle roared to life and headed towards their next destination.

******

We're not in Kansas anymore -- oh wait, we still are.

Sam was awoken by loud rapping at the door. He groggily got out of bed. He stashed the Colt in the top drawer of his dresser and made his way downstairs to the door. "Coming!" He called.
An earthquake rumbled as he pounded down the stairs. He wheeled the door open and was met with a man not much older than him and a scared-looking woman.
"Are you the ghost hunter?" The man asked.
Sam rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, I guess."
The man nodded solemnly as the woman prodded him to continue. "My wife and I, we just bought this house about two towns over. And we're not getting one lick of sleep because every night there's this damn ghost roaming the hallway. Think you could help us out?"
Sam tried not to look too amused as he broke out his Super Special Puppy Dog Eyes for good effect. "Look, I don't know what you've heard but I..." He was cut off when the woman took his hand.
"Please, Mr. Hagar. We don't have anywhere else to turn."
Sam sighed. "I'll swing by tonight. Leave your address." He handed them a pad and then went back inside.

A little while later Sam was headed to Woodson's. He noticed a small crowd gathered outside the lot. They started whispering as he approached. Making his way through the crowd, he tried to ignore them. John Winchester was waiting inside and he looked amused.
"That's quite the cult following you got there Sammy," he said with a smile.
Sam returned the gesture weakly. John actually meant Colt following, he just didn't know it.
"I guess word travels fast around here," Sam said sheepishly.
John nodded. "Small towns, kid. Ain't much else to talk about."
"I didn't mean to start trouble," Sam said. John laughed.
"No big deal. All just a bunch of stories and hijinks anyway, right?"
"Right," Sam lied. The night before Joey had been watching Dean and a friend. The boys had made their way up to Sam's apartment and found the Colt. Sam found them before anyone got hurt. But Dean wouldn't give the gun back. Sam had to negotiate. Dean wanted to know what it was for. In a moment of weakness Sam had told the kids it was a gun to kill ghosts. And now the whole town thought Sam was a ghost hunter. Which he was. At one time. He was way beyond that now. After the incident he looked the gun in an old lockbox and hid it under the floor in his apartment. The damage was already done though.

It was a Saturday. The Saturday before Sam would turn 6 months old. He felt a heavy weight on his shoulders. He still hadn't decided what the best plan was. He wanted to get his family far away from Lawrence. Sam was afraid that no matter where they went the demon would find them. According to the papers a big storm was headed their way from the east. Which never happened. Not naturally anyway. Sam was beginning to wonder if anything could protect them. His phone been three days dead. Sam was recharging it. He didn't know if Castiel would call again and if not how would he find Sam?

Saturday was a short workday so Sam headed down to the University of Kansas library. He returned his books on time travel. Then he headed to the religious studies section. He grabbed every book on angels and demons he could carry and claimed one of the study tables. And then he read. He read and he read and he read about angels. He read about how they appeared, how they traveled, how they lived. Each time a book got it mostly right Sam tried to find out where angels convened. No book seemed to have information on it though and Sam had no clue what that meant.

After a few frustrating hours Sam gave up. He was getting nowhere and it was nearly time to meet up with the couple from earlier in the day. He left the library. He was walking back to his truck. He was unlocking the door when he sensed someone beside him. He looked up and found himself face to face with Castiel.
"Cas...?" Sam said apprehensively. Castiel didn't look overly happy to see him.
"Sam." The angel said in response.
"How did you find me?"
"I asked your parents," Castiel responded. "And then I looked for the tallest person at the library."
Sam festered.
"It's time to go, Sam."
"No, wait, why did you send me here in the first place?" Sam demanded.
"I didn't do this," Castiel insisted.
Sam paused, confused. "Then who did?"
"I don't know for certain. I do know that your brother is 22 years ahead of all this and he's about to get himself killed. I hear you have the Colt?"
"Yeah, but Cas...I'm not going anywhere." Sam drew himself up to full height, towering over the angel. Cas looked up, confused.
"Sam, your attachment to your hometown confuses me."
"It's not the town. It's my parents! I want to stop the yellow-eyed demon."
"You've already stopped him, Sam."
"You know what I mean Cas! I have a chance to stop things before they even begin. Maybe even give me and Dean a shot at a normal life!"
Castiel frowned. "Destiny will find a way, Sam. You stop them next week, the demons find a way a month later. The self-sacrificing is meaningless."
"Sounds like the old you," Sam said, turning away. "Guess you gave up on beating destiny. But I haven't. I'm staying."
Castiel got up in Sam's face. Or as close as he could get anyway. "To what end? You stay here in Lawrence for the rest of your life fending off demons that come after you and your family? What happens when the Apocalypse comes on anyway only for you to have no one to help you fend off Lucifer?"
"Maybe if I stop this, Dad doesn't start hunting. Dean doesn't either. They don't die, no seals break and the Apocalypse never happens," Sam tried.
"You and I both know that these demons will not stop. You have to stop them Sam. With Dean. And that means things to have to unfold as they always have."
"Things have already changed," Sam admitted.
A look of concern spread across Castiel's face. "What do you mean?" Castiel asked.
"Some demon -- not Azazel -- tried to recruit me a week or two ago. It knew exactly who I was. And it didn't seem surprised to see me here."
Castiel's head sank backwards as the news hit him. "You risk unleashing Hell now by staying, Sam. If demons know you are here then Lucifer does too. They will not leave you alone. They will keep sending bigger and badder demons until one of them reels you in."
Sam turned away. He paced a few steps, trying to decide what the best outcome was. "I need to warn them, Cas."
Castiel exhaled. It was pointless to try any further. He agreed to give Sam two more days. And then he left.

Now It's On.

What is this?

Council Bluffs, Nebraska.

Dan and Jill Parker were eating dinner in their dining room. Lasagna. Homemade. Dan loved his wife's lasagna. He mmm'mmm'ed a few times to let her know. She smiled and laughed at him. Then he turned to check the football score.

"Really, Dan?" Jill asked. "Can't we just enjoy this dinner?"
"Sorry, hon, I have money on this game. We're up by 7. I just want to see how it ends!"

The doorbell rang. It was their neighbor Joe. Dan and Joe embraced like the old friends they were. College buddies.
"My TV ain't working," Joe lamented. "You watching the game?"
"Absolutely!" Dan confirmed. "Come on in."
Jill shot Dan a look. "I have to wrap up dinner first. Grab yourself a beer from the kitchen."
"Thanks friend," Joe said. He went to the kitchen. Instead of grabbing a beer, he grabbed two knives. He tucked one into his jacket and cradled the other in his hand. He walked back to the dining room. Dan was practically inhaling the lasagna.
"Don't rush on my account!" Joe said. "Especially not your last meal."
Jill laughed. "You have no idea, Joe."

Joe smiled and walked up behind the couple. "But I do." He grabbed Dan's neck and slashed it. Blood poured out, down his shirt and onto his plate. Jill screamed and stood up but Joe quickly did the same to her. Then his eyes flipped beetle black. He whistled and the dining room window smashed inwards. "Get 'em," the demon inside said to his hellhounds. He turned and walked out as satisfying crunches of bones breaking intensified behind him.

******

There aren't many hills in Nebraska but Dean felt satisfaction as the Chevelle crested one of them. They had made good time across the long rectangular state once they cleared some overnight construction in eastern Wyoming. Alex had slept a few hours and Dean spent that time listening to the overnight farmers' report, checking for omens. The rest of the trip had been filled not with conversation but with music. He caught her tapping her toes a few times but mostly they were both in their own heads. It had been no trouble for Dean to put down the junior demon crew in Colorado, but he found himself missing his brother a little more with each passing day. Sam would come in handy right now -- to help Dean unscramble Chuck's convoluted vision. To help Dean get rid of the demons they came across. To figure out what exactly Dean was supposed to be doing. As a sounding board. As a venting partner. As a brother. Even the usual piece of Sam -- Dean's amulet -- was lost in time. Dean was still mourning his brother. Never one to let a little logic get in the way of some guilt Dean carried the loss around like an open wound.

It was mid-afternoon when Dean and Alex arrived in town. Dean drove them to the suburban street where Alex's parents lived and pulled up to the curb of a rambler with a nice bay window. Alex popped out of the car practically before it stop. As Dean locked up the car she ran up to the front door and unlocked it. After everything that had happened the night before she just needed a hug.

"Mom, Dad!" She yelled as she walked in. Dean followed a few steps behind.

The smell hit them immediately. Sulfur. Dean trotted in front of Alex and used his arm to keep her from going any further inside. He grabbed his gun out of his jacket and put it to his lips to motion for quiet. Alex slipped in behind him and followed Dean to the kitchen, where he grabbed some salt just in case.

They checked the bedrooms. Empty. As they moved towards the East wing of the house the smell grew stronger. Dean wasn't sure if they were meeting a live demon or not. His gun was the greeting just in case. They crept towards the dining room. Dean lined up aside one side of the entrance and Alex against the other. Dean looked at her to keep her still and then vaulted into the room. He immediately looked away from the sight and uncocked the gun.

Alex followed and gasped. Her parents -- or what was left of them -- were splayed across the floor, practically ripped to shreds. A meal sat rotting on the table. Dean walked to the window and found traces of sulfur immediately.

"Who did this?" Alex asked in a small voice.
"Not who, what." Dean said. "Hellhounds." He knew Alex wouldn't know exactly what that meant but would get the drift. The demons were on to his plan. Did they know about Alex too? Dean wasn't sure but it made making her heavenly connection all the more time-sensitive.
"We have to bury them," Alex said.
Dean shook his head. "You don't bury them -- you burn them."
She looked shocked at the revelation. "So what, these things are chasing me? Or are they chasing you? And what do we do now?"
"We find out if those things are still in town. And if they are, we get a few answers from them and then we get rid of them. Then we move on."
"Do you know why these demons are chasing us?"
"No." Dean lied.

Alex left the room and walked back towards the den. Dean followed. She opened his top desk drawer and grabbed a key. She unlocked the munitions cabinet. She opened it and started removing the guns, handing one back towards Dean. He looked to her for answers. She shrugged. "If whoever, or whatever did this is chasing us, we're gonna need all the help we can get," she sighed.

******

Hotel room of the moment.

Dean re-entered the hotel room they'd booked (two twins, natch) with some food. Alex, who was sitting at the room's table, dabbed her eyes with a wash towel. Dean looked down.

"I'm not much for talking but if you want to..."
Alex cut him off. "No, no, I'll be fine. Something tells me you're not exactly the tender type anyway."

Relieved, Dean put the bag down on the table and doffed his jacket. Alex poked around the contents of the bag -- two cheeseburgers, a huge thing of fries and an ice cream for desert. Sighing, she grabbed a fry. Dean then plopped down a container in front of her. Alex smiled.

"Salad in a cup, huh? How'd you know?" She started shaking it.
"Well, my brother eats like a girl so I thought there was a good chance."
"Your brother, right. The one who is maybe dead and maybe the Devil and maybe stuck in some other time and maybe trapped with the devil down in some cage?" The words were coming from Alex's mouth but she was incredulous.
"I know it sounds crazy," Dean said. "It is crazy. But that's how it went down."
"And you're from the future, but your angel friend sent you back here to stop the Apocalypse from starting?"
Dean took a big bite from his cheeseburger. "Pretty much."
Alex chewed on both her salad and her thoughts. "This is way more interesting than my Cultural Significance of Religion class."
"Your major was religion?" Dean asked.
"No, Anthropology. I was studying past cultures for my masters. My thesis was a contrast of religious icons during Greek and early Renaissance times." Alex replied.
Something clicked in Dean's mind. "So do you speak Greek?"
"Yeah. And Latin. And a few other languages." Alex said, nodding.
Dean smiled. This dead weight was suddenly proving her mettle. "Did you have any luck looking through the weather reports?"

Alex nodded. "Just like you said -- electrical storms about two weeks ago. Farmers reporting all sorts of stuff, cows dropping left and right. Crops wiped out. Tornados across the eastern half of the state. And then there was this..." She spun her laptop around. Dean read the story from the Omaha World-Herald. A quadruple murder the day before. A college kid flipped out on his parents and a neighboring couple, killing them all. One person survived, the neighbor's kid. It was a morbidly historical day for the town as a gas station also blew up, killing three more.

"Seven deaths in a day? That's about as common in Nebraska as a skyscraper." Alex spelled it out. "I knew the shooter too. Tom Bello. I went to high school with him. Dated him for a little while."
"I need a suit," Dean said.
Alex stared at him blankly. "This is a fine time to be worried about your wardrobe Dean!"
Dean stood up. "What can I say? These things concern me. Gotta play the part. Do you have a black dress?" Alex's stare grew more intense. "And is there a copy place around here somewhere?"

******

Midwest suburbia.

The door opened, and Dean and Alex stood at the threshold. He was in a sharp black suit and she was in a long black dress. She recognized an old friend. "Hey Maria," she said. "Just wanted to stop by to pay our respects."

Maria opened the door and the faux couple entered the wake. Plenty of neighbors were there for Alex to recognize.

"We just need to talk to someone who was there," Dean hissed to her. "Don't keep us stuck here too long." She nodded and sought out the neighbor's son, Todd. They found him outside sitting by himself.

"Todd," Alex snapped to him reality. "I'm so sorry for your loss." She took his hands.
"Alex, I had no idea you were even in town." Todd said lazily, looking up. "Yeah, my parents, they...went out of town for awhile and asked me to look after the house. I can't believe all this," he motioned to the people, the events, everything. She had more in common with Todd than she cared to share at that moment.
"Yeah, Tom, he just, he just snapped. My parents were playing Scrabble or something with his parents. All of a sudden I hear these screams. So I ran over and he was slitting their throats. And he was...I don't know, chanting or something."

Alex shot Dean a look.

"Had Tom been acting strange at all before that?" Dean asked. "Not like himself?"
Todd shook his head no. "It came out of nowhere."
Another couple stepped in to pay their respects. Dean used it as the excuse to leave. Not too far though. He stopped at the car, popping the trunk to get something out. "Stay here," he ordered Alex.

"What, why?" she asked. He kept her in place with his hand.

He rounded the fence, ducked the caution tape and slid open the back door to the Bellos'. Inside, he took out the EMF reader Bobby had given him and waved it around. Nothing. The living room was a mess of broken furniture and sprayed, dried blood. Then he caught sight of the western wall. A sigil. On the wall. Instinctually he started looking for other clues.

Dean quickly pushed the broken chair and table off the rug and pulled it back. Sure enough he found a Devil's Trap on the floor.

******

Not-so-high security lockup.

After some insistence by local resident Alexis Parker, she and Dean were back in street clothes and allowed to visit Tom in his cell. Despite repeated warnings from the Sheriff that he was a dangerous guy, Tom Bello looked more excited to see Alex than she was to see him.

"Alexis!" He said. "Alex, you're alive!"
"So are you!" Alex said back happily. "Tom, what the hell happened?"
Tom clammed up when he saw Dean. "Who's the dude?"
"Oh, this is Dean. He's...he saved my life the other night Tom. He's cool."
"Listen to me Alex. You're not safe. You have to get as far away from Nebraska as you can."
"Whoa, everyone cool their wheels," Dean mixed up the saying, as per usual. "We're not going anywhere; you're definitely not going anywhere," he motioned towards Tom. "Let's back up here. What happened yesterday?"
"There is no time for this. She has to get out of here. Now."
"Tom," Alex tried again. "I know this is going to sound crazy. But Dean, he's a hunter. A demon hunter. He's here to help. We don't want to run. We want to find the demons that did this to your family."

Tom slid back in his cell and plopped down on the bench, looking down. Then he looked to Dean. "Hunter?" he said. Dean nodded. "Me too. So's my dd." This was the first Alex was hearing of it, the shock clear in her face.

"I got called home from school when the omens started," Tom said. "My Dad had been tracking a group of demons that was roaming the country, killing single targets. There didn't seem to be any kind of relation between the targets. Sometimes multiple people in a family died, sometimes not. No good clues, nothing. It had been a year of it. But he finally figured it out." Tom got back up and approached Dean and Alex, motioning them to lean in. "All the people the demons were killing? Vessels. Angel vessels. Some psychic helped him figure it out. They were killing the last person in the bloodline so that even if the angel could come down they were left with a weaker body. I don't know what the endgame is. My Dad called me back because they were in town. I got home last night.

"They, well I guess you probably already know, I think they were looking for your family, Alex. I went to your parents' place but it was too late. The hellhounds had already gotten them. So I headed back home. The Collins were over. But it wasn't them anymore. It was the demons. And my parents -- they'd gotten them too. I tried exorcising them but they'd bound themselves to their hosts. So I did what I had to do."

"Did they tell you anything?" Dean asked.
"Nothing that made sense. Something about stopping judgment. I have no idea what that means."
Dean didn't know either.
"My parents, where did they take their bodies?" Tom asked.
"At the morgue, I'd assume," Alex said.
Tom shook his head no and looked to Dean. "You have to burn them."
Dean nodded. "We'll get them."

******

Nighttime on idyllic, quiet, possessed campus, Omaha.

Unsure of her bluffing skills, Dean had made Alex wait in the car while he chatted up a local university professor. She was dozing off, exhausted from the day's events and the close air inside the vehicle. She was awakened by rapping on the window. It was a university cop. Alex rolled down the window.

"I'm sorry miss. You shouldn't be here," the cop said.
"Sorry sir, I'll move the car." Alex replied.
"No, you shouldn't be here," the cop said again, and Alex found herself faced with a black-eyed demon. It forced the car door open. Alex tried to run even with nowhere to go but ended up right in the demon's arms. She screamed just as Dean exited the building.
"Alex!" He ran towards the car but his path was blocked by a demon.
"Any closer and the girl gets ganked right here. You want to see her alive again? 47 Leavenworth. Two hours," the demon said.

And with that the demons vanished, taking Alex with them. Dean slammed his fist against the car. "Sonofabitch!" Dean's phone rang. Not the one Bobby gave him. The newer flip. What now? He grabbed it out of the glove compartment.

"Yeah what?" He raged into it.
"Dean?" A familiar voice. Dean snapped to attention.
"Cas? Cas, is that you?"
"Yes, Dean. I can't hold this connection very long. Where are you?"
"Omaha. Nebraska."
"When are you?"
"I don't know man, 2005 apparently. Where the heck are you?"
"I'm not sure where I am. 2005..." Dean heard static. "Cas, don't lose me!"
"..."
"Listen, I found Chuck. He told me to find this girl, Alexis. I guess she's some kind of vessel. Who is she, Cas? Chuck said something about her being a game-changer. Can she bring Sam back?"
"...angel of...amulet is the key...can't find you without..."

Dean's face twisted into anger. He was tempted to throw the phone but knew it was his only connection to Castiel for the moment.
"You're breaking up. I can't hear a damn word. Look, I'll keep the phone with me. Find me as soon as you can, Cas. I'm getting the girl and we're heading for Bobby's."
"...Dean...don't go back to Bobby's."
"What? Cas? Why the heck not?"
"..." And then the connection dropped.
Dean flipped it shut. So Castiel was alive. And Sam too, maybe. Something bad at Bobby's. Something about his amulet. He clearly had to get it back. First thing was first though.

******

Masonic Manor. Omaha. 47 Leavenworth.

Dean parked a block away. He popped the trunk and armed himself. Gun? Check. Knife? Double-check. All that was missing was a brother hunter. Sam wasn't much for the hand-to-hand combat but Dean could have used his brother's help just then. Or his dad's. No sense pouting about it though, so Dean grabbed the rest of what he needed and made his way towards the temple.

The door was of course open. Dean made his way down the hallway until he spotted an open meeting room door. One door was open. He peeked around the end of the closed one and saw Alex passed out in the head Mason's chair. She was roped in with a gag on. Behind her the altar had several candles lit and the wall was covered with three scary looking Mason portraits. He didn't see any demons but he knew they were around -- possibly one in her.

He went into the room anyway. The door slammed shut behind him. The sound awakened Alex, who shook her head at Dean and tried to speak through muffles. Dean looked around. "Come on, you sons of bitches, let's get this show on the road already!"

"Whenever it's convenient for you, Dean," said a voice behind Dean. The cop.
Dean wheeled around.

"I can't believe my luck!" The demon continued. "I come to this little farm town looking for one vessel, and I end up landing two! And not just any two...two of the most powerful angel vessels, neutered before their time." The demon chuckled. "This could not have worked out any better if Lucifer had planned it himself."

Two more demons stepped out of the shadows, blocking Dean's path to Alex.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Dean lied.
"Oh, sure, sure," the demon shush shushed him, "Events are unfolding differently this time, Dean. Isn't it funny? You thought you were coming back here for a chance to stop it before it started. But the truth is it will always start, and it will always start with you. Why prolong the inevitable? We can just get this all over with now."
"So, you know who I am," Dean retorted, "but I don't think I've had the pleasure."
A smirk in return. "They call me Ipos. But it's not me you should be worried about. It's who I serve."

Not a name Dean knew but he had enough information for now. He took a swing with his knife. Ipos ducked back and one of the other demons charged towards the hunter. Dean quickly twisted the knife around and stabbed the demon in the gut, twisting the knife for good effect. Dean yanked it out as the demon staggered back. The third demon was racing up so Dean grabbed his gun.

Ipos had used the time to get back up to Alex, who was struggling to break free. "Two great options here but I think we'll start with you," he said, slipping his own knife out from below his uniform. "Say hello to Semiazas for me when you get to hell."

The ground shook and Dean watched a white light appear over Ipos and Alex. He had seen this before. "Alex -- close your eyes!" He yelled, and she did. Dean quickly stabbed the third demon and then fled behind the back altar to shield himself.

From within her skull light projected out Alex's eyes and they flew back open in a blaze of blinding light. "I serve no demon!" She cried.

Dean heard it, and with hand in front of his face for protection saw what looked like an angel waking from within Alex.

Ipos, alarmed by this development, fled his meatsuit. With the threat gone the light dissipated and Alex once again fainted back in the chair.

Dean checked around to see if Ipos’ smoke remained but he was long gone. He ran up to Alex and tried to wake her, gently and then finally with a light slap to the face. Nothing. He untied her and slung her over his shoulder. Was this girl like Anna -- an angel all along?

******

The fire burned brightly with 4 bodies in it. Dean had already taken care of Alex's parents yet here they were sending two more couples off. It was disturbing to say the least. Alex didn't remember anything that had happened since being kidnapped. Or so she told Dean -- his gut found it suspicious. When he filled her in she looked genuinely surprised though, so he eased back. It didn't matter that much. Conscious player or newbie to it all, Dean's plan was unchanged. Get the girl back in full angel form so she could reunite him with his brother and Castiel.

"What now?" Alex asked sadly, nursing a deep cut on her arm from the demon.
"I need to get something back that I lost," Dean said. "An amulet."
"When did you lose it?"
"A few years from now. But in this time I still have it. So I all I have to do is find me."
"Your memory is that good?"
"No. But I know someone who can find me..."

Dean walked away from the pyre and towards the car. Alex watched it burn for a few more seconds, the flames lighting up her eyes. Then she too turned and walked for the car. They both got in. Dean turned it on and they headed out of town.