Pulling over to the side of the road, Dean cut the engine and turned to look at Sam. "Well, this is the place. The windy city."

"It's mighty pretty," Sam muttered absently, staring out the passenger window.

"What exactly are we doing here, Sam?" Dean asked, slightly impatiently.

"I already told you on the way over," Sam said, just as absently, still continuing to look out the window at the parked cars and tall, shiny office blocks.

Dean rolled his eyes, mostly for his own benefit since Sam was obviously much too preoccupied to pay him much attention. "Yeah, I know," he said pointedly. "We've had a thirteen-hour drive, with only two stops might I just add, with you telling me why we were coming here."

"Well, then, you should have got the message by now." Sam finally drew his attention away from the window and fixed Dean with his most exasperated expression.

Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes again. "Very funny, genius," he shot back. "Look, I get it, alright? You want to check up on this guy, I understand that, really I do. But what exactly are you going to do here? You're going to give the poor son of a bitch one hell of a heart attack if you just go barging up to him."

"I know!" Sam snapped, a deep tension written plainly all over his face.

"Woah, dude!" Dean held his hands up in surrender and Sam instantly softened, looking guilty and apologetic. "Don't sweat it," Dean said quickly, forestalling his brother's inevitable attempts at unneeded apology. "Man, this whole thing is making you jumpy," Dean frowned. "The sooner we get this whole thing behind us the better."

"This is where he works," Sam muttered vaguely, obviously off on a new train of thought. "I looked it up."

"Yeah, you already told me. That's why I pulled over, remember?" Dean pointed out, quite reasonably in his mind.

"Looks like a nice office, huh?" Sam continued.

Dean followed his brother's line of vision and took in the tall skyscraper; it looked totally nondescript in his frank opinion but who was he to argue with Sam on this one? In light of everything, it was neither the time or the place to pick a stupid fight.

"Sure," Dean said gently. "It looks, uh, great,"

Sam checked his watch. "They wouldn't be finishing up now, would they? Or should we go in and have a look around? You know, get the fed badges out again and make up a case or something?"

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Sammy, listen, this guy's going to be freaked as it is if he gets a glimpse of that mug of yours. You don't want to scare him even more with all the fed get up."

Sam nodded. "I guess you're right."

Dean playfully cuffed him on the shoulder. "Dude, I'm your big brother, you should know by now I'm always right."

Sam attempted a smile. "Now we wait then, I guess."

Dean shrugged. "I guess so." He took a deep gulp of the now tepid coffee they'd picked up on their all too brief pit stop a while back, and shuddered. "Man, we should have picked up some more of that coffee from that guy Luke's place," he commented.

"Good, huh?" Sam's smile looked at least a little genuine now.

"You're telling me. Good burgers too. Lorelai's a lucky woman."

Sam actually let out an honest to God laugh at that one, which lightened Dean's spirits if only momentarily. It wasn't a sound he got to hear or enjoy very much at all these days, and how many more opportunities would he get before – before it all went down?

"Whatever you say, Dean," Sam chuckled, settling back and actually looking a little relaxed for the first time in what felt like forever.

Dean was just about to comment on that very fact when something across the street caught his eye, and even after everything he knew about this guy, it damn near took his breath away.

"Sam," he said at once, his voice quiet but urgent. "I'm willing to bet my car that that's our guy over there."

He pointed out Sam's window to the young man now leaving the office building. Even from across the street, there could be no mistake. Dean would recognise that floppy hair anywhere, even if it wasn't technically his brother. The fact that he towered head and shoulders above the other passers-by on the street only helped matters even further.

"That's him," Sam confirmed and all at once, he had tensed right back up again, his face visibly paler and his voice quiet. "This is weird, man. It was already weird -"

"I'll say," Dean interjected.

"But seeing him, "Sam continued like there had been no interruption. "I don't know, like he's actually real. He's got this whole life, this whole, real life."

Dean squinted through the windshield to get a better look at Sam's doppelganger as he joined a queue of people lined up at a nearby coffee cart.

"He looks fine to me," Dean assessed. "He could do with a good hair cut though, but I mean, so could you."

"Dean."

"What? I'm just telling it like it is, Sammy. He looks fine. He's got a job, he can afford to buy overpriced coffee, he's living the American Dream. Are you happy now? Bobby's expecting us and it's at least eight hours back to Sioux Falls from here."

"Not the way you drive," Sam quipped but he was closely watching his double across the street and didn't quite appear ready to move on just yet.

Dean sighed. Really he ought to have known that Sam wouldn't be content with just a brief glimpse of the guy who could be his identical twin. Even though they'd had the good fortune – and when did that ever happen to them? – to come across the guy on his afternoon coffee break, without having to burst into his office, Sam still wasn't entirely at ease. Dean couldn't help but sigh again, louder this time for greater effect. Of course it was going to come to this. How could it not, when all was said and done?

"You want me to go over and scout the guy out?" he asked, knowing exactly what the answer would be even before he'd finished speaking.

"Would you?" Sam replied at once, almost painfully earnest and of course there wasn't a snowball's chance that Dean could refuse him.

What wouldn't I, haven't I, done for you, kid?

"Yeah, why not?" Dean said breezily. "You want anything while I'm over there? It's a frappe – mocha – cino, right?"

"Just hurry, would you? You're going to miss him if you don't get a move on."

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, I'm going," Dean said hastily because Sam was right and the other Dean was moving steadily up the line.

"Classy as ever, Dean," Sam muttered.

"You know me, kid," Dean grinned, climbing out of the car and closing the door behind him.

After a quick glance in both directions, Dean jogged across the street and quickly joined the end of the coffee line, right behind the man of the moment himself; Dean Forrester in the flesh and very much larger than life. Dean wondered exactly what Sam expected him to say to the guy. If Sam had his way, the guy would have to produce a detailed profile on his life, bank statements and medical records included, just to prove that he really was doing okay. Somehow, Dean had the feeling that that wouldn't go down too well. No, he'd have to be discreet, offhand, casual. And Dean was more than up to such a task.

"Looks like good coffee here," Dean commented lightly, hoping to attract the other Dean's attention and that he wouldn't just be ignored as the overly chatty guy in the coffee line.

Other Dean didn't dismiss hi, - of course he didn't, the kid had grown up in Stars Hollow where everybody was best friends with everybody else. Dean Forrester turned around to speak with him properly and Dean was faced with the very strange situation of seeing someone who could very well be his little brother, and even when he spoke, it could have been Sammy's voice. The weirdness of everything they'd faced back in Stars Hollow really had nothing on this freak show right how.

Dean Forrester chuckled. "It's not bad," he admitted genially, fishing his wallet from the pocket of his suit jacket. "Staring at a computer all day, you need something to keep you awake, right?"

"Right," Dean nodded in agreement like he too had first-hand experience of being a pencil pusher in some big city office. "Right. You work in that building there?" He indicated the building they'd seen the guy exiting, the one Sam had looked up and knew to be the guy's place of work.

Other Dean nodded, shuffling up a little as the line moved forward. If he was put off or annoyed by Dean's not so innocuous questioning, then he did a great job of hiding it. He nodded, and sounded friendly, not like he was being harassed by an overly inquisitive stranger on the street. "There? Oh yeah. Nice place Good people to work for, you know?"

"Sure," Dean nodded knowledgably again. "It's a, uh, sales company, right?" He wanted to keep the guy talking, get as much information from him as possible to feed back to Sammy and put his brother's mind at ease.

Other Dean smiled again. "Sorry, buddy, it's a construction company. I'm guessing you're not from around here, huh?"

"Guilty as charged," Dean smiled. "We're just passing through, my brother and me."

"You guys on a road trip or something?" He looked and sounded genuinely interested, even as he moved closer to the top of the line. "Sweet."

"Yeah, yeah, something like that."

Despite his obviously sparkling and conversation skills, Dean couldn't delay the inevitable and all too soon, Dean Forrester had reached the top of the line. He gave the order for two fancy coffees – two coffees? Office work must really be boring – that Dean couldn't even pronounce but that Sam would undoubtedly enjoy. Other Dean was just looking through his wallet for change when Dean stepped forward, pulling a ten-dollar bill from his jeans pocket and placing it down on the counter.

"Hey, buddy, this one's on me, alright?"

Other Dean's smile slipped for the first time and he frowned a little, though this was clearly out of confusion rather than anything more sinister. "What?" he asked, while the kid behind the counter, also staring confusedly at the pair of them, set down the two steaming coffees.

"What can I say? You caught me in a generous mood."

"I'll say, but I'm getting coffee for my girlfriend too, so I can't let you front that," Other Dean protested.

A girlfriend? Sammy's going to have a field day over that one.

"Ten bucks should more than cover it, right?" Dean persisted. "And you can keep the change," he added to the barista kid who nodded eagerly. What the hell; in for an inch, might as well give the whole damn mile.

"Uh, yeah." Other Dean now just looked pleasantly surprised. "Yeah. Thanks, man."

"Don't sweat it. Just, uh, just take care of yourself, okay?"

Other Dean collected the two cups and regarded him with a mixture of wry bemusement and gratitude. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I will. You too, man. Thanks again."

Dean Forrester finally moved away, shaking his head slightly at the random act of kindness that had probably made his damn day. Dean himself ordered two nondescript coffees for himself and Sam, but he was barely aware of what he was doing. Slapping down another crumpled bill, the kid had probably never received such a big tip in his life, Dean took his two polystyrene cups and moved a little to the side. Under the pretence of adding sugar – or rather sweetener because Samantha was watching her figure – he instead watched Other Dean walking back into the office building. He seemed like a nice enough kid, Dean surmised, friendly. He seemed like he had a good job, he had a girlfriend. Sam would be thrilled, he had no doubt. He was just about to leave, to go back to the car and relay all this information when something, someone rather, else caught his attention. It was like seeing a ghost, like seeing two ghosts almost.

He couldn't see entirely clearly through the distorted glass doors of the office building but he definitely saw a young woman with long blond hair coming to meet Dean Forrester. He saw her taking one of the cups, saw her wrap an arm round Other Dean's waist, saw him place an arm round her shoulders, and they walked away, presumably back to their desks. That had to be his girlfriend, then. And, damn it, looking at the two of them now, Dean could have been looking right at Sam and Jess. In a different world, a different life, it might have been Sam and Jess, grown up and happy and successful and very much alive and well. Not the college kids whose Palo Alto apartment Dean himself had broken into way back on that fateful night, but what could have been if things hadn't gone down in the terrible way that they had. Dean wasn't entirely sure what he was feeling as the two figures finally disappeared from view. It certainly was bittersweet to see this guy, this guy with Sam's face and Dean's name, with this girl who could be Jessica. It was a reminder of everything Sam might have had, could have had, but also an indication of everything he might have again in the future. He wondered what Sam's reaction would have been had he seen these two for himself. Would he be reminded of terrible, painful memories or could he just be happy for this other guy whom, really, he shouldn't have known from Adam? It was a difficult one alright.

Dean signed heavily as he once again crossed the street and headed back to the Impala where Sam would be eagerly waiting for updates. He couldn't wait to put this whole case behind them and he was more than ready to throw himself into whatever case Bobby had waiting for them. Dean had a feeling, however, that it wouldn't be so simple, because when were things ever so simple and straightforward for them? The presumed poltergeist job at the Dragonfly Inn had more than proved that particular theory, as though it had ever needed proving. Dean had the feeling that the image of the two figures, the reflection of Sam's past and his future if he would only allow it, would continue to haunt him in the coming weeks. Try as he might, Dean knew that he just wouldn't be able to shake it.

"Well?" Sam asked, the second Dean had opened the driver's door and settled back in behind the wheel. He'd been slouched down in his own seat so that Dean, or indeed Dean for that matter, would see him. "Did you talk to him? What did he say?"

"Woah, Sam, don't forget to take a breath," Dean replied, handing over a cup of coffee. "Here. Take this, and let me do the talking, alright?"

Sam accepted the cup but still continued to look expectantly at Dean, who rolled his eyes.

"Sammy," he said gently, the tone surprising Sammy a little. "Listen, he's fine, alright? Quit worrying."

"He is?" Sam asked at once.

Dean nodded, taking a gulp of his own coffee. "Absolutely fine and Jim Dandy. He spoke to me and didn't ignore the guy who likes to overshare in the coffee line, like any sane person would have done." He broke off to share a brief smile with Sam. "He seems like a good kid. He said he likes his job; he's got a good looking girl-"

"He does?" Sam couldn't help but interject.

Dean nodded again. "Yeah. All's well in Other Dean's Bizarro World. He's happy, man, I'm telling you."

"Good. I'm glad." And Sam honestly was. He was glad that this guy who'd existed on the periphery of the whole case hadn't been dragged into it, and was blissfully ignorant of everything that had gone down the night before in his old time. Sam had said it before, but Dean Forrester was a good kid when all was said and done. He'd been young and made some stupid mistakes, Sam himself could identify at least, but things appeared to be working in his favour now. It was good to see, really it was.

Dean regarded him with a somewhat strange expression. "What?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "Nothing. It's – uh – nothing." He cleared his throat and when he spoke again, it was in his usual tone, firm and assured, but Sam couldn't help but wonder what he'd been thinking and perhaps what he'd really wanted to say. "What do you say, Sammy, you about ready to blow this popsicle stand?"

"Yeah," Sam said quickly, maybe a shade too quickly but Dean didn't comment on it. "Yeah, let's get out of here."

Sam didn't look back as Dean started up the car and pulled back out onto the road. He didn't look back at the towering office block, just as he hadn't looked back at the Dragonfly Inn.

"You sure you're okay?" Dean asked, watching him a little warily out of the corner of his eye.

"I will be," Sam answered after only a moment or two of hesitation. He wasn't sure that it was entirely truthful, or if it was even the answer Dean was looking for, but what else was he supposed to say? They had other, much more pressing matters at hand, hell, Sam only had a couple of weeks to get Dean out of his deal. That had to be his priority now. Everything else would just have to take a back seat until he could be totally sure that Dean was safe. And Sam was more than fine with that, really.

Dean accepted Sam's answer, despite the inaccuracy of it with a silent, understanding nod and nudged Sam in the side, which communicated a hell of a lot more than any amount of words could to Sam. It meant that Dean was here, that he'd listen despite his professed hatred for caring and sharing, that he'd do everything in his power to fix things. Sam knew all that without Dean ever having it say any of it out loud.

"Come on," Sam said gently. "Bobby's waiting for us."

A/N: And now, the end is here and I can't believe it! I started this story over a year ago now and it really took on a life of its own. I never expected it to be this long, and I certainly didn't expect the amount of interest I've received in this story. I have very much enjoyed getting to explore two of my favourite fictional worlds and characters in one sitting. Thank you to everyone who has been so kind as to read, comment, follow and favourite, it really is very gladly appreciated. I hope everyone continues to do so as we while away the long waits for Season 12 of Supernatural and the Netflix revival Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life!