All the Options.

What is this?

Hotel room o'the Episode.

Dean was using Alex's laptop to check into omens. There was the batch his dad was following -- the one attached to the yellow-eyed demon. It had made its way south from Washington and was now heading east in Nevada along the path Alex and Dean had followed west. Meanwhile another batch of electrical storms and freak happenings of nature was in Eastern Illinois, headed west. If one demonic omen set traverses Nevada at 70 mph and one sets out from Eastern Illinois at 90 mph...Dean was calculating where they might meet when he heard the Impala rumble into the parking lot. A door opened and shut quickly and the car roared off. Then the hotel room door opened.

Alex strolled into the room in a pair of boxers and a plain tee. Dean's clothing. She carried her wardrobe from the night before. Dean gave her the eyebrow salute and his face took on a shit-eating grin.

"So," Dean said. "How was I? Give me the dirt."
"You're an animal," Alex complied, patting Dean on the shoulder as she walked past him to the bathroom.
Dean nodded his approval. He self-congratulated for a minute and then realized that Alex seemed to be avoiding him. "You got the amulet, right?"
"I tried Dean," she called from the bathroom, door half ajar. "I really did. I asked you about it. You told me the story of how Sam gave it to you for Christmas. I asked if I could see it but you wouldn't let me near the thing!"

Dean had to admit that sounded about right.

"I did everything I could!" Alex continued. "But you never took the damn thing off. You sleep with your face buried in a pillow, and under that pillow is a gun. You have a knife within arm's reach! It was hopeless." She emerged from the bathroom in her own clothing.

Dean whipped around in his chair. "So you didn't get it," he growled.

Alex shrugged. And then she smiled. She put her right arm up, hand in a fist. Then she let the amulet drop down.

Dean returned to approval.

"How long until you notice it's gone?" She offered as a reply, tossing it over to him.
Instinctively Dean put it back on. "Not long," Dean confirmed her suspicions.
Alex quickly threw her items into her bag and put it on. She was ready to go. "So what now?"

Dean mulled over his options. They had the amulet but no idea how to use it. Castiel had been radio silent and Dean wasn't sure how to contact the angel. They'd hit dead ends trying to research more on Ipos online, and couldn't find much on whatever Jake Hobart had become. The books Dean had grabbed from Bobby were not any help either. For the moment the demons seemed quiet. Though Cas had warned them not to Dean knew what his best option was.

Instead of telling Alex all that though, he just told her his decision. "We turn the angel GPS in this thing on," Dean said. "We could use some help."
"Who?"
"Bobby."

Alex clammed up. Hadn't they been told specifically not to go there? She didn't want to but she found herself trusting Dean. Not knowing the full plan, she was left to rely on his intuition.

"You think this angel of mine can fix all this?" Alex didn't define what all this was.

Dean weighed the effect of a lie versus the truth. "I've seen angels do some mind-blowing things. But I really don't know." The truth. "So we have to talk to someone who might."
"What about your brother? It's just a few days until Jess dies, right? You talk about him an awful lot -- even back here in 2005."
"We're coming back," Dean said, "but not without help."

The phone Bobby gave them rang. "Hello? Bobby? Yeah, we're headed up that way anyway. OK, we'll be there soon. Right." He dumped the phone back in the glove compartment. "Guess everything is fine with Bobby for now. He said I should head on up that way."

"Can I drive some at least?" Alex asked.

Dean shot her down with one look.

******

Kansas apartment where Ginormotron and His Hair Sleep.

After a restless night with little sleep Sam was awake before the sun. It was the day. His younger self was about to turn 6 months old. Tonight was the night that dictated his fate. He was determined to change it. To save his family. To save himself.

Sam had a plan in mind which mostly revolved around not leaving the Winchester house. He'd thought about trying to convince them to run somewhere safe. But he didn't know where safe was and that left them susceptible to attacks down the road. No. With the Colt in hand, his best plan was to make sure he was at the house so that when the yellow-eyed demon came he was ready. He'd wrangled a beer and cards invite out of John. Sam would "drink" too much and then pass out at the house. When the yellow-eyed demon showed up he'd be ready. If the yellow-eyed demon showed up. Sam had no idea who or what to expect but he was ready to fight anything.

******

At work Sam was quiet. John tried to talk to him a few times but Sam concentrated on his tasks. Castiel had given him just a bit of extra time -- until sunrise the next morning. They were to meet in Salina, a two hours' drive away. He had one shot to get it right. Sam wasn't interested in being stuck in 1983 forever. He did want to go home. Maybe after tonight he'd have more of a home to return to. He tried not to think about how life would change if he was successful. He tried less to think about how life would (or wouldn't) change if he failed.

Once work was done he went back to his apartment. He showered. He shaved. He tamed his hair. He put on jeans and a nice button-down shirt. He loaded all the remaining bullets into the Colt. He tucked into a holster along his belt. He hid it with his long shirt. He buttoned the shirt up and up and up and up and up. He threw on a coat. He headed downstairs. Walked outside. Got in his truck. Drove to the Winchesters'. Parked. Looked. Got out. Walked up. Inhaled. Exhaled. Knocked on the door.

John threw the door open. "Sam!" He said enthusiastically.
"John," Sam said, returning a smile and nodding in his dad's direction.

John patted him on the back as he came in. Mary welcomed him warmly too. She had let go of their hunting interaction. John offered Sam a beer which he gratefully accepted. He made sure John had one too -- had to keep their card game fair after all.

Little Dean came up to say hi to "Uncle Sammy." Dean ordered Sam to come see a project he'd been working. Ever the respectful little -- if not younger at the moment -- brother, Sam followed Dean diligently upstairs. Dean was of course enamored with Sam's ghost hunter story and had drawn a book. Sam had never known Dean to be an artist. But he went with it. Dean had drawn a book called "The Winchester Family Business." Inside Dean and Sam drove around together -- in Dad's Impala, natch -- and hunted ghosts together. Sam used the Colt and Dean used what looked like a Bowie knife. In the book they saved a family -- which looked an awful lot like John, Mary and the boys -- from an evil ghost. Sam was of course much, much taller than anyone else in the book.

Sam found himself emotional over the whole thing. "Where'd you come up with this idea, Dean?" he asked.
Dean shrugged. "I think it would be cool, you know? Me and you out on the road. Maybe my little brother could come along too...when he's old enough."
Sam nodded. No, his eyes were not red. And there was nothing in his throat either. At least so he told himself.
"Why'd you call it the 'Winchester Family Business'?" he asked his brother-who-didn't-know-it.
Dean shrugged again. "You're kinda like family I guess. Besides, it's my story. I call the shots."
You sure do, Sam said to himself. There was no bitterness. Just acceptance. And a sense of the bittersweet.

******

Several hours later Sam was down $100 to John and didn't care. He was "drunk" and John was drunk. Turns out John Winchester was a happy drunk, telling Sam how he was like a son to him and talking about expanding the garage so they could turn the shop into a real business. Part of Sam wished it could be true. But like ever he wished for his own life. To finish school and go on to a law degree. To get married and have his own family. To have his family around to enjoy it with him would mean the world.

Finally around 12:30 AM John passed out in front of the TV. Sam was watching it to stay awake.

Upstairs his baby self was 6 months old. He heard his baby self cry. And then footsteps. His Mom. His heart raced. Part of him wanted to wait for the scream so he could be sure. But maybe it would be too late by then. He tiptoed up the stairs. He walked down the hallway to the baby's room. He peeked into the dark. Inside, Mary was walking around the crib. The window was open. A breeze rustled in. Sam heard scratching against the window. He clutched the Colt with his right hand. Mary reached into the crib. A shadow appeared in the window. She picked baby Sam up. There was a noise. Something bumping against the house. Scratching. Sam couldn't wait anymore. He rushed in, hand on gun. Mary screamed, almost dropping baby Sam. She flipped on the light.

"Goodness, Sam, you nearly scared the life outta me!" She scolded him.

Sam's eyes were wide and his nostrils flared. His eyes darted around. There was no sign of the yellow-eyed demon. Had he come up too early? Mary was calm as could be though. She sat down in the rocking chair. She settled down the baby. She had a warm bottle ready. She started to feed the baby. Adult Sam was highly confused. He let go of his gun.

John arrived at the door. "You alright Mary? Thought I heard something," he said.
"Yes, I'm fine. Sam here just gave me a start." She smiled at their friend.

Sam turned to John, looking for signs of possession. Did the yellow-eyed demon know Sam was there? Had his plan changed? Was the demon the night before right -- was Azazel dead?

"Well, it's getting pretty late, Sam. You're welcome to sleep on the couch if ya like."
"Thanks," Sam muttered, "I think I'll do that."

Mary put the baby back down. Baby Sam was fast asleep. John and Mary said their goodnights and Adult Sam went back downstairs. He sat on the couch. He couldn't figure it out. Where was the yellow-eyed demon?

******

A few hours later roosters were crowing. The sun was coming up. Sam was still awake, barely, on the couch. No demon visit. No screams. No fire. Just another typical night at the Winchester household. Sam was supposed to leave to meet Castiel. He couldn't. Something wasn't right. Then the sun was up. And Sam was still on the Winchesters' couch. Upset. He looked out the window at the sun. He looked back inside. Castiel had appeared next to him on the couch.

"We need to go, Sam. Your brother needs you."
"The demon -- he never showed," Sam said in disbelief. "What if he's coming tonight? What if I got the date wrong?"

Castiel looked straight ahead. Sam would want to stay if he thought his family was in danger. Castiel needed him to leave. "Something has changed. I can't explain it yet, but you coming back here...your brother going back to 2005. The plan is different. There is a different faction of demons active now. And they don't seem to be following the same orders as the others. We risk changing too much by staying here longer."

"So...I didn't have to do anything but be here. But it worked? Now what? Are we safe or not?"

Castiel didn't answer right away. He didn’t want to lie to Sam. But Castiel knew that no matter how hard they tried to change the past, it would never work. He didn’t know where Azazel was, but he knew that the demon would find a way to kill off Mary Winchester. Castiel needed to make sure Sam was long gone before that. "It's hard for me to say. The things I'm hearing -- they don't make much sense. Things are unsteady, ungrounded right now."

Or, Sam thought to himself, it could be because you died. Maybe we all did.

"You can't do any more by staying here Sam. You have the Colt. We should move on," Castiel urged.

Sam considered his options. He wanted to stay. But staying meant the same thing as always, waiting and watching. Cas was right. It wasn't worth risking things alone in a time he knew little about. The longer he stayed, the more things changed. So it was off to 2005 and a brother who didn't know he was alive.

******

Heavenly meet up spot.

Castiel and Sam materialized mid-stride outside of a storage bunker.

"Where are we?" Sam asked, wheeling around.

"Salina. The meeting spot."
"When are we?"
"1983 still. We needed to get here first." Castiel strode towards the bunker. A very tall, very full, very old-looking tree sat next to the bunker.
"This is the angel meeting spot?" Sam asked incredulously.
"Yes."

Sam followed Castiel into the bunker. It was windowless, save for a skylight which was slatted. Rays of light shone in from above, giving Castiel an even more angelic appearance.

"Why here?" Sam asked.
"This is holy ground. The tree. It's older than time. It's a grounding point for time travel."
"We've never needed this before."

Castiel tapped Sam on the forehead without reply. The sun adjusted above them to shine down at a different angle.

"We're here," the angel said.
"2005?"
Castiel nodded.
"And now?" Sam sighed.
"We wait."

******

Lush Coastal Rainforests of Central South Dakota.

Dean motored the Chevelle down the drive to Bobby's, pulling up besides his friend's less pristine Chevelle. He threw the car in park and killed the engine. Alex took in the surroundings. They exited the car.

"Cas said something wasn't quite right around here," Dean noted as he popped the trunk. "So just follow my lead." He threw a couple of shotguns loaded with rock salt into his bag and tossed it over his shoulder.

Alex nodded.

They started walking towards the house when a tarp caught Dean's eye. It was thrown over a car that had a familiar silhouette. He peeked under it. Confirming the car's identity, he threw back the tarp to reveal his Impala. Alex's face turned from confusion to surprise as Dean moved closer to inspect his baby. It seemed to be fine aside from needing a good wax. The car was locked though so Dean backed away.

"I am not supposed to be here right now," Dean said.
"No kidding," Alex snipped. "Didn't your angel friend say not to come?"
"No," Dean said, distracted. "I mean in 2005. I should be in California." He looked around for his dad's truck but saw no sign of it.
"Oh," Alex mumbled.
"Son of a bitch," Dean said. "Something is definitely not right." He checked his jacket pocket for the familiar feel of pearl ivory and then motioned silently for Alex to follow him. Hesitantly, she did.

They approached the house. The front door was open so Dean let himself and Alex in. "Bobby?" Dean called.
"Dean, is that you?" Bobby called from the kitchen. "Yeah, it's me. I've got company too."

Dean motioned up the stairs to show Alex the bathroom, and she headed that way to clean herself up. Dean went to the kitchen. Bobby was reading a book at the table and had some paperwork spread out across it. He got up and welcomed Dean, offering him a drink. As usual Dean accepted. He knew Bobby would test him with holy water at some point. Best to get it over with early. Dean took a closer look at the papers -- there was a large map of the middle portion of the USA which red circles over some cities. Others had been red circled at one point but were now black x's. He looked at the book. It was open to a page about angels who turned to demons.

"Doing a little dinner reading?" Dean asked sarcastically.
"Something real bad's goin' on out there," Bobby answered, his back to Dean. "Haven't seen anything like this before."
"No kidding," Dean sighed.
"How's that hunt goin?" Bobby asked as he strolled over with a drink.

Dean looked up and accepted it. He took a nice long swig for Bobby's benefit, but he didn't seem to relax. Dean's suspicions were aroused. He looked back down at the map for familiar locations. He noticed Omaha had a black X. Cheyenne too.

"Oh, fantastic," Dean continued to drip sarcasm. "So far we've crossed 9, 10 victims and one hell of a nasty demon-angel thing. I was hoping you might have some idea how to stop it."

They heard a crash upstairs. Dean moved towards the hallway. "Alex?" He called up the stairs. More crashing, and then the noise died. Dean turned to put his drink down and found Bobby almost on top of him, a knife drawn.

"Whoa, Bobby, what is this?" Dean asked slowly.
"I don't know who you are but you're not Dean Winchester," Bobby said with determination. "I know demons are stupid but this is impressive, even by those standards."
"We're not demons!" Dean insisted, swirling his drink. "Look, you have a devil's trap under the rug, right?" Bobby did in fact have one set below a throw rug. Dean stepped in, then out of the circle to prove it. Bobby's eyes widened. Dean flashed his tattoo.
"Shapeshifters, then," Bobby inferred.
"Really? I'm not a shapeshifter either," Dean retorted. "So what? You think I'm a ghost maybe? How about a Leshi? Bobby, it's me."

Dean heard a click and turned halfway. Alex was just over the threshold, and behind her was Ellen holding a gun to the younger woman's back. Alex was dripping wet.

"Dean," she said, looking to him.
"You OK?" he asked her.
"Aside from having my face shoved in a sink full of holy water? Yeah I'm good," Alex replied.

She didn't need to say anything else. Dean backed away from his spot near Bobby slowly.

"Let's just talk about this," Dean insisted.
"Honey, there's not much to talk about," Ellen said calmly. "You show up and about 24 hours later someone gets killed. Bobby's neighbor a couple of weeks ago, two people about an hour west of the Roadhouse right after you both left there."
Dean's eyes widened. "They're following us," he realized. "They're hunting us down."
"Ipos? You think he's following us?" Alex asked worriedly.
"Him or some of his demon goons," Dean confirmed.

The group heard more crashes, outside this time.

"That didn't sound good," Bobby drawled.

Above them, one of the boarded up windows collapsed in. Someone was coming inside. He looked to Dean and Alex, and then to Ellen, who shrugged in return.

"We're on the same side here," Alex reasoned.
Bobby shook his head now. "Till we get things sorted out here, no one's helping anyone." He waved his hand to Ellen, who tossed him another gun.
"Bobby," Dean appealed.
"Sorry boy," Bobby replied, and motioned for Dean to go downstairs to the basement, where the panic room awaited.

******

Room of This is No Time to Panic (Start Panicking).

"Well, that went really well Dean," said Alex, sitting on a cot along one wall of Bobby's panic room, arms folded. "I'm glad we came."
"I could have predicted Bobby not believing anything I tell him. But Bobby refusing help? That I didn't expect."
"He seemed like he had a seen a ghost. So did you, actually," Alex noted.
"Yeah, something like that," Dean muttered. Seeing Ellen again was throwing him for a loop.
"I don't understand how why the demons are just following us...they could have killed us but they didn't," Alex noted. Why do you think that is?"
"They're waiting for someone," Dean guessed. "Or for something to happen. Just like the rest of us."

There were sudden crashes outside. Then footsteps down the stairs. Then the sound of the panic room being unlocked. Then the door opening. Dean peered out but saw no one. He and Alex traded skeptical glances. Dean waved for Alex to follow him. They emerged into the basement. No one. They slowly crept up the stairs. Nothing. They went into the kitchen and found Bobby and Ellen passed out on the floor. Dean stared at them curiously. When he looked up, Castiel had as always appeared uncomfortably close to him.

"Cas?" Dean echoed his brother's reaction at seeing their angel friend again.
"I thought you would find it easier to talk without having to prove your humanity," Castiel said, looking down at their friends.
"Thank you," Dean managed. "And the demons?"
"Expelled. For the record I think the four of you could have taken the two of them." There was the slightest hint of sarcasm in Castiel's voice.
"Yes, thank you, Cas!" Dean said again, upping the indignation.
The angel changed the subject. "It is good to see you," Castiel tried. "You were hard to locate."
"Because I have those damn marks on my ribs. Do I really need those right now?"
"Possibly more than before," Cas said while nodding. "If too many angels knew you were here..."
"How did you know?"
"Because whatever I tell you to do, you have the habit of doing the opposite." Castiel said matter of factly.
Dean chortled. "So you were just calling me for the hell of it back there?"
Castiel shook his head no to deny it. "No. You were being tracked by a dangerous pack of demons. I was calling to tell you. I didn't know this had happened to you."
"It wasn't you who sent me back here?" Dean asked.
"No. I don't know how you ended up back here. This could be a move from somewhere in Heaven to try again. But it could also be a move by Lucifer to prevent him from being stopped. I can't say for sure. I only know what my orders are. And they're coming from very, very high up."
"And what are they?" Dean snapped.
"Find you. Find Sam. And find out the angel that pulled you back here." Castiel ticked each item.
"An angel did this?" Dean asked dubiously.
"An angel did this," Castiel said.
Dean's eyes glazed over. "Can't imagine there's much left of Sam to find."
"1983."
"What?" Dean eyed his angelic friend nervously.
"Sam was in 1983."
"Sam. Sam was in 1983? Is Lucifer still wearing him to the prom?" Dean noted that Castiel seemed dismayed by the last question. And stunned. That made two of them.
"Sam is clear of any demonic influence."
"Have you talked to him?"
Castiel nodded. "He's here. Outside."

Dean felt his breaths shorten. His brother was alive. And healthy. This really was some kind of second chance. Dean wondered how much Sam remembered. Not that it mattered. He was alive.

"Sam?" He called.

His brother had been outside on the front porch, lost in his own thoughts. Sam had been waiting patiently on the first day to see Dean. When the second started he got antsy. By midway through the second he was near insanity. Castiel had filled him in. Dean thought he was dead. Sam told Cas it was good to see him with his angel mojo back. He got an unexpected reaction to that -- Cas's shoulder's fell. It was a reminder that Sam had been lost for awhile. It was a miracle Castiel found him, and in one piece both physically and mentally.

Now Sam was in familiar surroundings at Bobby's, hearing a familiar voice in his brother calling him inside. He stepped into the kitchen where Castiel, Dean and Alex were waiting. Eventually his eyes settled on his brother. Alive.

Dean did the same. Sam. Not Samifer-ed. Dean stopped breathing for a minute. "Sammy," he managed, and nodded in his brother's direction. The brothers embraced in a loaded hug. It was good to be back together where they belonged.

"You did good, Dean," Sam said.
"You too, you sonofabitch," Dean said. "Don't you ever leave me like that again."
The brothers separated and Dean looked back to Cas and Alex, who were a little choked up by the moment too. "How's he look?" Dean asked.
"A haircut seems to be in order," Castiel stated for the record.
"You look great, Sam," Alex said, picking up on Dean's question. "Not even a hint of demon. I'm Alex by the way."
Sam nodded, and squinted a bit. Did he know her? It felt like he did.

Dean was satisfied and for now more complete than he was an hour ago. Call it what you like but life as a Winchester always meant family first. And Dean's family was suddenly a bit more whole. He asked Castiel what the next step was. Castiel admitted he wasn't quite sure.

"Your brother," Alex reminded Dean. "It's just a few days from now, right?"
"What is?" Sam asked, confused.
"Old yellow eyes is about to flambé Jess," Dean said bluntly.
Sam shifted uncomfortably. "Are we sure? Because I, uh..." he trailed off.
It was Dean's turn to shift uncomfortably. "You what?"
"I made Cas wait to bring me here. I stayed at Mom and Dad's the night that she died. The night the demon poisoned me with demon blood. He never came, Dean."
"You sure?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, I'm sure. I waited until way past sunrise. Nothing. Not even a hint of him. There's something else too." He reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out the Colt. Dean's eyes went wide.
"Where'd you get that?" He asked.
"Long story," Sam replied.

Dean pondered what it all could possibly mean. The more that happened the more he couldn't help thinking that Alex was the answer to all of it. "And what about Alex? And the amulet?"

Castiel hesitated, then gently sat next to her and took her arm, where the cut Ipos had given her still was unhealed. "Alex is under a blood spell. We'll need the amulet later, once it's broken."

"A blood spell?" Dean asked.
"To Ipos. He put her under it when she was kidnapped," Castiel answered rapidly.
"How do we break it?" Dean responded in kind.
"There are three ways to break a blood spell. You can be released from it, which is not likely. You can kill the demon holding the spell, which is not likely. Or you can fulfill the contract of the spell. By dying. Which is what will happen here."
"Pardon?" Alex interjected. She looked to Dean for help. He looked to Castiel for answers.
Castiel leaned down to check on the ones still passed out. "This is good news for you."
"Cas!" Dean said, exasperated. "You don't just drop a bomb like that and call it good news!"
Castiel stood back up, confused. "Before no one knew where Alex was. Now we know where exactly where she'll be."
"Yeah, in Hell," Dean said.
"We tried but we couldn't find any of the angels who'd fallen to Perdition before. Now we'll know exactly where she is."
"The amulet," Dean muttered. Alex, who had not said a word in awhile, spoke up.
"There are other angels trapped in Hell?" she asked Castiel. "In their vessels?"

"In a manner of speaking,” Castiel said. “Ipos has been tracking the vessels of angels loyal to God down one by one. The angel gets called to their vessel by what seems like a Heavenly assignment. I haven’t figured out how the angel is being summoned yet. Ipos binds the angel to the vessel’s soul with a blood spell. The spell, it strips the angel’s grace so they can’t return to Heaven. They’re fallen; sealed to the vessel’s soul. Then Ipos kills the vessel with hellhounds, dragging both the vessel’s soul and the bound angel down to Hell.”

“So Ipos ties the vessel and angel together like some twisted three-legged race and then ganks them?” Dean asked. Castiel nodded. “That’s a bitch,” Dean said.
“The further up the chain they go, the harder it would be to trap an angel. So in those cases these demons are killing off vessels in the bloodline one by one.” Castiel turned to Alex. “You’re one of the last ones left for Raziel and the strongest link to the bloodline.”
"Is that who was coming after me in 1983? Ipos?" Sam asked, starting to put things together.
"No," Castiel said. "It was his brother, Mastema. There are two stages to their attack. First they send someone after the vessel to tempt it into the service of Hell. If the vessel refuses, Ipos steps in and finishes the task by force."
"Hellhounds," Dean sighed.
Castiel nodded.
"How does he know who's loyal to who?" Sam asked.
Castiel sighed. "There is a small group of defectors. Angels that wanted to bring on the Apocalypse; angels whose loyalties turned. They were supplying information to the demon."
"You should be killing off your traitors," Dean tried.
"When we find a traitor they are dealt with. It's hard to know where each angel's loyalties lie."
"Do you know when I die?" she asked.
"Sometime in the next week," Castiel said.
"Don't even think about it," Dean said accusingly, pointing at Alex. "I'm not letting you die."
"It's not like I want to."

Dean paced around the room nervously. No way he was going to watch Alex die. He dragged her into all this. There had to be another way...

"We summon her angel," Dean thought out loud. "Raziel?"
"The angel of mysteries," Castiel explained.
"We got plenty of those."
"It's too risky, Dean. The effects of the blood spell make the vessel unstable. You interrupted Ipos before he was ready for Raziel, so he was forced to flee. But Alex is like a poisoned well now.”
"I'd rather not..." Alex started.
"What happens if we kill Ipos?" Dean asked, cutting her off.
Castiel, who'd been leaning over a chair, drew himself up. "It's not guaranteed to work."
"But it's not guaranteed not to work," Dean pointed out. "What have we got to lose? If I'm right Ipos dies and the angels stop getting killed. I'm wrong and Alex was gonna die anyway."
"Thanks," she said sarcastically.
"You're not dying," Dean promised. He started gathering up ammunition and guns. He turned to Sam. "I need you to start researching omens. See where Ipos might be next."
"I don't think you need to," Alex said. She held up the map. "They're circling around something."
"Where are they circling around?" Dean asked.
"Not really sure," said Alex. "Somewhere in the western Kansas/Eastern Colorado/Southern Nebraska area."
"Next target?"
"Not sure if I'm reading this right, but it looks like Rogers, Arkansas."
"Great. We're going."
"In a rush?"
"I've got 4 days to save you and my brother," said Dean. "So yeah, I'm in a rush."
"What about them?" Alex asked, motioning to Bobby and Ellen.
Dean looked to the ones on the floor. "We'll need Bobby's help. Ellen's too. We need to make sure that Dad plus 2005 Sam and I stay on course to hunt Azazel. Mind helping me clean up this mess?" Dean asked Castiel.
"As long as you don't interfere with yourselves everything should continue to unfold as you remember it," Castiel said, and then threw in, "more or less."
"So it still happened," Sam said ruefully. “Azazel still killed our mom.”
Castiel borrowed Sam's Captain Empathy cape. "Redemption doesn't start in the past Sam. You know that. As soon as you left 1983, Azazel could proceed. I’m sorry. It happened the next night."
Sam nodded and looked away. "Then are what are we doing here?"
"This isn't about us," Dean said. "This is about stopping these demons from taking down vessels."
"Yeah, OK," Sam relented. "So let's stop them."

Dean nodded.

******

Castiel woke up Bobby and Ellen. Dean and Sam spent the next hour convincing them to help. He asked Bobby to be the same as he ever was, to help the Winchesters figure out what they were facing. After some initial misgivings their friend agreed. Dean asked Ellen to make sure that John stayed on track. If necessary she should make sure the brothers' younger selves did too. She nodded and agreed to do what she could. Sam and Dean each gave Ellen a long hug.

"Once we check out Arkansas we'll head back to Palo Alto to scope things out," Dean said. "Cas, you want to flitter ahead to check things out?"

The angel nodded and in the blink of an eye was gone.

Dean, Sam and Alex started walking towards the Chevelle. Dean stopped, feeling himself pulled in another direction, back towards the Impala. Sam's face turned from confusion to surprise as Dean moved closer to inspect his baby. It seemed to be fine aside from needing a good wax. The car was unlocked. Dean slid his hand to the handle and opened the driver's side.

"What's this doing here?" Sam wondered.
"I had Dean come trade it in for something else when it looked like demons were onto him," Bobby called after them. "He wasn't too happy about it."
"I can imagine," Sam said, shocked his brother would give up the car at all.

"Well, if it's here may as well use it to, uh, keep the demons off the wrong trail," Dean said, turning his baby over. He patted the passenger seat for Sam. Sam shrugged and walked around to his usual seat in shotgun. Alex slid into the back.

They took off, peeling out of the driveway. Dean laughed and cackled and pumped his fist in victory. He had his baby back.