Disclaimer: This is a transformative work of fiction for entertainment purposes only. Based on the original creation by E. Kripke (aka God).

Dedication: This is dedicated to gaelicspirit who is responsible 1. for pointing out that we got totally ripped off in 5.04 because it is obvious that Dean was hurt (I had to agree. Dean's grimace after the knife wielding child agrees) and 2. for continuing to ask the question that show keeps dodging: why does it have to be them?

A/N: spoilers up to and including 5.04

They'd left Sam's "borrowed" car and climbed into the Impala. Sam had immediately been struck by how unnaturally clean it was. Well, maybe not unnaturally, but it had been a long time since Sam had seen it so clean both inside AND out.

Dean had headed for the highway.

"Where to?" Sam asked quietly and somewhat tentatively. When Dean had given him Ruby's knife back, it had gone a long way to convincing Sam that his brother really was welcoming him back, but he still felt that there was a rift between them, that he was still on probation, and he didn't want to rock the boat.

"Honestly? I'm not sure. What do you think?"

"Maybe we should check in with Bobby?"

"Sure. Let's head in that direction. I've got some ideas. Actually, it's your idea. I'm thinking we should go after the colt."

"Oh. Sure. Seriously, Dean. What's going on? What happened that you've done a complete turn around on this too?"

"Told you, Sam. Long story."

"Well. Looks like we have a long drive..."

"I'm tired, Sam. Can we just not do this right now?" Dean's tone really didn't leave any opening and Sam wasn't about to push his luck right now.

"Fine." He tried not to sound irritated or petulant, but he wasn't sure how successful he was.

The end result was that they drove in silence, broken only by the tapes which Dean kept feeding into the tape deck. Both were lost in their own thoughts.

Finally, when it had started getting dark, Dean cleared his throat.

"I'm gonna pull off at the next exit. Find us a motel."

"Ok," Sam glanced at his brother for the first time in at least an hour. Sam was a little shocked at how pale Dean looked and there was sweat beading on his forehead even though it wasn't particularly warm in the Impala.

"You alright, Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

"Yeah. Just tired," came the expected reply.

They pulled into the first reasonable looking, cheap, and non-descript motel they came to. Just like a thousand others they'd stayed in.

It was when they were grabbing their duffles out of the trunk and Dean had leaned in for his that Sam noticed the bloodstain on his brother's shirt.

"Is that fresh?" Sam asked, concern lacing his voice.

"Yeah. It's fine. Part of the long story. And if you just let us get in to the room, I'll fill you in," Dean said slamming the trunk and moving toward the door to their room.

Sam huffed but didn't reply, following his brother closely into the room. At least Dean was ready to talk.

Dean dropped his duffle on the bed closest to the door and moved toward the bathroom.

"No! Sit." Sam stopped him and pointed at a chair.

Dean just raised his eyebrow.

"Please." Sam amended.

Shrugging Dean did as his brother asked. Sam rummaged for the med-kit. Blood meant he'd need it one way or another.

"You might as well take your coat off. We're staying after all," Sam prompted.

Dean shrugged out of his coat and Sam pulled up the other chair, placing the med-kit on the table. Now that he was closer he could feel Dean's slightly raised temperature and see the beads of sweat on his face. Grasping the hem of Dean's bloody shirt, Sam carefully raised it to expose his brother's torso.

There was a 4 inch gash that had been stitched, but about half the stitches had pulled free. There were two other "neater" knife wounds. Those were shallower and shorter with two stitches each and they had held.

"What the hell, Dean?" Sam breathed.

"Long story, remember?" Dean paused and took a deep breath. "Ok. Here's the deal. After I hung up from you, I had a visitor, and I woke up in 2014…."

Sam worked quietly, trying to be as gentle as possible, listening intently to his brother's incredible story. Listening to what the angels had put him through. What, apparently, Sam would be and do himself in the future.

Dean's story was punctuated by the odd gasp and flinch as his brother cleaned the wound that the little girl on the street had inflicted with her piece of glass. Sam replaced the torn stitches. Added antibiotic cream.

"Who stitched this up? And who gave you these other cuts?" Sam asked finally.

"I did."

"Which?"

"Both. Well, to be accurate, my future-me did it. After he… I… damn that's confusing… when I was first captured and knocked out. I woke up and he said he'd tested me with silver and I'm assuming Ruby's knife or maybe iron. I don't know. Had to make sure I wasn't a revenant, shapeshifter, or demon, right? I just know that when I got a chance to check, I had three slices, and they'd been taken care of."

"Why make these cuts so deep? Just breaking the skin would have told him what he needed to know." Sam's jaw tightened and his brow knit together.

"He was me, remember?" Dean half laughed and then sobered. "I told you. I'd started torturing again. I… I…" Dean swallowed and dragged a hand down his face.

"It's ok," Sam said quietly, standing up and clearing away the supplies. "How did you tear the stitches out?"

"I don't know. They were ok when I got back I think. I talked to Zach, then Cas pulled me out, I talked to you, and then I got the car tidied up before I met up with you."

"Did you do it detailing the car?" Sam was incredulous.

"A man's home, Sammy…" Dean said sheepishly. He'd been determined to make amends to his baby, and maybe he had been a bit too gung-ho about it.

"Go to bed, Dean," Sam just shook his head.

"Yeah. I'm beat. I'll just hit the head first," Dean said pushing up out of the chair.

He swayed on his feet as his vision greyed and then went black and fireworks sparked in the darkness. He would have been on the floor if Sam hadn't been there to grab his arm and ease him back into the chair, gently easing his head between his knees.

"…. Ok… now…. Dean… do…. here….are….me…" Sam's voice broke through the buzzing in his ears, and Dean felt his brother's hand resting on the small of his back. Dean took a deep breath and opened his eyes when he realized they were squeezed shut.

Slowly and tentatively, Dean sat back up. Sam took Dean's chin between his thumb and forefinger, studiously examining his brother's eyes. They seemed to be reactive and the same size.

"Dean?"

"Here."

"How many times did you get knocked out?"

"Just the two times. Well. Unless you have to count the zapping through time…"

"I'm betting that isn't helping. Think you can make it now? Take it slow," Sam cautioned as he saw his brother was about to attempt to stand again.

"I've learned my lesson," Dean smiled wanly and got slowly to his feet. He was rewarded by the room taking only a small turn. Sam gripped his arm.

"Just a second and I'll get some ibuprofen for you," Sam said and grabbed it out of the med-kit, pressing the tablets into Dean's waiting palm.

"Thanks, Sam," Dean said, dry-swallowing the pills and moving unsteadily towards the bathroom.

Sam watched him go, wanting to help, but still feeling a certain shyness or awkwardness that was keeping some distance between them. He tried not to hover as Dean re-emerged and shuffled to his bed. Dean kicked off his boots but otherwise lay down fully clothed. His preferred sleeping attire since returning from hell.

"Don't you want to change?" Sam suggested, shrugging out of his own clothes.

"Too friggin' tired," Dean sighed, but he did pull the comforter and blankets over himself. Sam noticed that there was still a thin sheen of sweat on his brother's face and he was shaking just a bit.

"You're running a bit of a fever. Could be that cut, but the antibiotic cream I put on should take the infection away. Might be that you're exhausted. Might be a bit of both."

"I'm betting on both. Because I'm just that awesome," Dean shot back, trying for a half-hearted smirk.

"I'm also thinking mild concussion," Sam suggested, crawling into his own bed, shutting off the last of the lights.

"Naw," Dean denied.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean sighed. He knew that tone of voice. It wasn't enough for Sam just to have the facts. He had to dissect everything too. Dean knew it was coming. He knew it was important that he really get through to his brother.

"Do you really think we can do this?"

"I don't know Sam. But one thing's clear cuz it keeps coming back to it having to be us. So I guess we just have to accept that fact."

"I don't understand that. No one ever answers why us."

"It comes down to who we are, I think. I mean we're human, and I think that in itself is a huge part of this, but we also have something between us that other people don't have. Maybe it's how we were raised. Maybe it's something that was born in us. But whatever it is, it is. They all know it could go either way. Maybe we are our greatest strength. Maybe we are our Achilles' heel. Strengths and weaknesses, brother. I'd do anything for you. And you'd do anything for me."

"I would Dean," Sam interjected quietly.

"I still want to make you proud of me, Sam. I don't want you to be ashamed of me. You keep me human because I couldn't turn into that person, the person I was in 2014, if you're around to call me on it. I don't want you to do what I say because I say it but because you think I'm right. I'm not Dad. I don't want your blind obedience. I want you to challenge me. But I also want you to trust me. Have faith in me. And I know I have to earn that back too. I slipped when I agreed to torture Alistair – and look what that made you do. Action and re-action, dude."

"I want those things too. I want you to trust me again. I won't say yes, Dean. Not ever."

"I'm serious about making our own future. We can't be re-acting to what the angels and demons want. You said we had no choice but to make our own future. You're right. But that's the only thing we don't have a choice in."

"What do you mean?"

"Lucifer gave me the key to this whole mess."

"Care to share with the class…"

"Lucifer and Michael need our permission before they can take our bodies, right?"

"Yes. So?"

"Lucifer thought that I'd be sympathetic to his sob story about his fall. He told me that what pissed him off was that God wanted him to bow down to humans. That God put humans first. Before the angels. Why? What have we got that they don't have?"

Dean waited while his brother considered the question.

"Free will!" Sam blurted.

"Yahtzee."

Silence stretched in the dark as Sam processed his brother's revelations. Dean was starting to drift before his brother spoke again.

"Zachariah and Castiel both seem to be exercising free will."

"Maybe. Maybe that's the point. Zach still seems to be following the book when it comes to the Apocalypse, though. Maybe Cas is following some unknown bit of arcane scripture too. If they are truly exercising free will, they pretty much suck at it so far."

Sam snorted appreciatively. He'd missed his brother, snark and all.

"We have choices to make Sam. We've already made some. We've said no. Maybe that's why it had to be us. Flaws and all. Because we can say no, and we will say no. We're both of us stubborn bastards. As for the future? We just gotta make sure it goes our way."

Silence followed Dean's last statement. Dean's breathing was just evening out again when Sam broke the silence once more.

"Thanks Dean."

"Mmpf. You're getting breakfast. Don't wake me up." Dean mumbled in return.

"Coffee and the usual grease-fest?"

"Coffee. Yes. But bran. Bring me bran."

Sam was speechless. Before he could even think of a witty reply, Dean's soft snores indicated he was too late. Even after all these years, his brother could still shock him into silence on occasion…

A/N: I'm still not entirely happy with this, but I could probably tinker with this for another 6 months and not be sure that I've actually said what I set out to. So feedback would be much appreciated. Am I in a ballpark anywhere?