[And Hell Followed With Him]

"Bullshit." Daryl didn't believe Dean. He strode forward, anger in his eyes, and shot a hand out against Dean's chest. Dean stumbled back a few steps, not expecting the sudden attack from Daryl.

Dean regained his balanced and glared back at Daryl. "How else can you explain what's been going on with you?" He snapped.

Dean and Daryl scowled at each other; blue eyes meeting green, neither of them backing down.

There was a shrill yell from the front gate, which was across the field from where they stood. Both Dean and Daryl's heads snapped to the side to see what had caused the noise.

"Damn." Sam spat out seeing dark figures begin to stagger away from the gate to the rest of the enclosed area. "Croats!" He barked out and without waiting for the others, he began to run to the gate.

Dean and Daryl's argument quickly disappeared from their minds and they didn't hesitant in following Sam as he ran the short distance across the field. Dean knew that Castiel also followed on their heels, his angel knife grasped tightly in one hand.

Rick tried to push down the despair that threatened to overwhelm him as he tried to stop the swell of walkers that were coming through the collapsed gate, but he knew that walkers would eventually overrun them.

"Get that one!" Shane yelled from his right. Rick twisted around to see a loose walker get away from Glenn and start to shamble into the rest of the camp.

Rick tightened his grip on his gun and fired off a round into the walker's head.

The walker's head snapped to the side and then fell to the ground in a tangled mess of limps, but the walker was quickly replaced by another as more got away from Jesse and Glenn.

"There's too many!" Shane snapped out, as he shoved the end of his knife into the nearest walker's head. "We've got to get out of here."

"We can't!" Rick shouted, slamming the butt of his gun into the skull of a walker. The decayed skull split in two and Rick turned his attention to another walker that came into view.

"We've got to hold the gate, or everyone is dead."

Shane shoved a walker out of his way so that he was standing next to Rick. "We're not going to survive then." He snarled at his friend, his face tight with fear and anger.

Rick gritted his teeth and was about reply tersely to Shane, when a figure caught his eye. It was Sam. Dean, Daryl and Castiel were following closely on the younger Winchester's heels.

"We're going to make it." Rick said firmly to Shane, his eyes flickering back to his friend. Shane followed Rick's gaze and caught sight of the others. For a moment, a strange look flitted across the cop's face. If Rick didn't know better he would have said it was hatred and a little bit of fear, but Rick couldn't spend too much time thinking about it; walkers were still streaming through the gates and coming at them.

Sam entered the fray, his hand flashed as he slashed his knife at the nearest croats. The monsters that were unlucky enough to be near him fell to the ground with their heads split open.

Dean was close on his brother's heels, a knife clasped in his hand.

"Looks like you can use some help, sheriff." Dean yelled at Rick, a wild look in his eyes.

Rick gave him a shout of thanks in return. He noticed Daryl, too, was right behind the brothers with his crossbow up and firing.

Dean kept Daryl in his sight; he wanted to know if Daryl saw anything strange. He backed up, swinging at various croats until he was standing next to Daryl.

"Dude, you see anything?" He yelled at Daryl.

Daryl shot him a glare, "No." He said shortly, no bothering to say that he wasn't this Truth Seeker or whatever it was that Dean had called him.

"Damn." Dean returned, bringing his attention back to the croats that were staggering toward them. Dean slashed his knife up into a croat's head, ignoring the blood and brain matter that spurted onto him.

He was vaguely aware of Cas somewhere behind him, using that handy angel knife of his.

There was a sudden growl that echoed through the air, causing Dean to freeze in shock; that sound, the growl, couldn't be right.

His eyes sought out Sam's and for a split second the brothers wordlessly exchanged incredulous looks. What was this monster doing here now?

"What the hell was that?" Daryl screamed, thrusting his knife into the skull of another walker, his bow pushed to the side for the moment.

"Monster." Dean said shortly, his eyes flickering around the mass of bodies looking for the monster, while trying to fend of the croats.

"What monster?" Daryl asked, moving closer to where Dean was. He could see Sam doing the same.

"Werewolf." Dean bit out as shape flew through the air, knocking Dean off his feet.

"Dean!" Sam cried, running to where his brother was grappling on the ground with what looked like another person to Daryl.

Sam grabbed the back of the person that had tackled Dean and wrenched him off Dean.

Daryl caught a glimpse of almost silver eyes and a mouth full of fangs before Sam had twisted away from Daryl, the person—werewolf?—still in his arms.

"Dean." Sam yelled, his voice tight.

"Already on it, Sammy." Dean replied as he staggered to his feet, his hand bringing out the gun in his belt.

There was a yelp from the werewolf and a cry from Sam and then the werewolf was out of Sam's arms and now running for Daryl.

Daryl backpedaled in alarm, wildly trying to avoid the walkers around them. The monster leapt into the air, its arms outstretched and then a shot ran out and the werewolf dropped like a stone at Daryl's feet.

Dean ran over to his friend, his silver colt pointed at the werewolf. He reached a hand out to grip Daryl's arm, while he unloaded another round into the dead werewolf.

Sam trotted up to the other two, and for a moment the three of them were allowed a moment of rest.

Then the world exploded, or at least that's what it felt like to Daryl. He was knocked away from Sam and Dean by an unseen force.

Daryl let out a grunt on impact with the ground, but he quickly rolled onto his side and scrambled to his feet.

The air was heavy with a putrid stink, and all around monsters swirled. These weren't walkers, these were the Winchester's monsters; the ones that they had spoken of. The monsters ignored him; instead certain monsters ran directly for different members of their group.

The walkers didn't seem to be trying to eat them anymore, instead they were merely milling around.

Daryl's frantic eyes sought out Rick, seeing him surrounded by what looked like see-through people. Rick's eyes were wide with panic as he slashed the air around him with his gun.

Dean was almost engulfed by a mass of different types of monsters, though his movements were more controlled than Rick's, he too seemed to be panicking in his own Winchester way.

Daryl swiveled his gaze around, catching sight of Sam and Castiel fighting off various members of the group, though they didn't look like the people that Daryl had traveled with all of these weeks. Their faces were distorted and their eyes were black.

In the middle of all of this was a lone figure. Daryl ran forward, suddenly certain that this was the fifth horseman that Castiel had spoken of.

He skidded to a halt just a few feet away from the horseman when he finally realized who it was.

"Shane…" Daryl breathed, his eyes widening at the sight of the man, or what was left of the man, that he knew. Shane seemed to have grown several feet and he towered above everyone else. His face was a grey color and his eyes a dark red. His mouth was open, and Daryl could feel the horseman tugging at everything.

True to his name, Chaos was feeding off the wild and hopeless emotions that churned around them.

It didn't take Daryl long to realize that no one else could see what the horseman was doing and Daryl was filled with helplessness.

"Dean!" Daryl cried, trying to get his friend's attention; he wasn't sure that he would be able to kill this thing on his own. If it could even be killed.

Daryl's breath was abruptly forced out of his lungs as a large hand was smashed into his chest. His crossbow was torn from his grasp as Daryl flew backward and landed on the gravel. He whipped his head up to see Shane looming over him.

Shane leered at Daryl, "I was unsure about you when I first meet you. I didn't know what you were."

Daryl snarled in return and fumbled for his knife down at his belt. Shane laughed at his attempts and reached forward with a hand. He picked Daryl up and then threw him back into the air again. Daryl fell to the ground heavily, but tried to scramble to his feet before the horseman came again.

But Shane was already standing over his him, his speed impossible. He placed his booted foot on Daryl's chest, preventing him from getting up.

"Puny human." Shane said, "You and the Winchesters think you can stop me?"

Daryl wrapped his hands around Shane's foot on his chest and tried to shove it off.

"We'll stop you," Daryl grunted angrily. He pushed at the foot on top his chest, but wasn't managing to move it at all.

Shane's eyes narrowed and he pressed down on Daryl's chest.

Daryl's ribs screamed in protest and he let out a muffled yell of pain. He gave up trying to push Shane's foot off him, instead his hand found the knife in his belt.

Daryl whipped it out of its sheath and brought it up. He plunged it down into Shane's foot, piercing through the leather shoe and cutting into the flesh.

Shane howled and the weight on Daryl's chest lifted, allowing him to roll away.

He staggered to his feet, gripping his bloody knife tightly in his hand. Daryl felt a small moment of victory; Shane could be hurt and possibly killed by his weapons.

Shane was standing a few feet from Daryl, his eyes burning with fury. Daryl could see his face etched in pain from the wound in his foot, but his anger was plain to see as well.

"Come on!" Daryl yelled, "You wanna kill me? Come on and do it already."

Shane's mouth curled into a grimace and for a moment he looked like he was going to charge Daryl, but then an idea seemed to spark in his mind. He sent Daryl a cruel smirk and his eyes flickered to where the Winchesters were fighting their monsters.

Daryl followed his gaze and felt a weight drop into his stomach. He bite out a swear word and knew what Shane was going to do right before he moved.

As soon as Shane began to move to where Dean was, Daryl was running through the mud toward his fallen crossbow. He dived to the ground, his hands scrambling for his weapon.

Daryl's hands closed around the handle of his bow and flipped onto his back so that he was facing Shane, who had just reached Dean.

Daryl rapidly loaded an arrow onto his weapon just as Shane, with a call, ordered the monsters away from Dean. Whatever he was going to do, he obviously didn't want any help from the other monsters.

Dean, at first, seemed confused to what was going on, but he quickly caught on when Shane reached down and grabbed the front of Dean's jacket and pulled him off his feet so that he was dangling above the ground.

Daryl brought the crossbow up to his shoulder and took aim, his muscles quivering with the adrenalin pumping through him.

Shane smashed his fist into Dean's face causing the elder Winchester's head to snap to the side with blood flying from his mouth.

Daryl didn't wait to see what Shane was going to do next and he squeezed the trigger, releasing the arrow. It flew from the crossbow and embedded itself into Shane's back. With a scream, he released Dean, who slumped to the dirt.

Daryl pushed himself up from the ground and took off running to Shane and Dean.

Shane had staggered away from the fallen Winchester his hand grabbing at the arrow protruding from his back.

Daryl skidded to a halt in front of Dean and reached down to give his friend a hand.

Dean shook his head a few times as if he was trying to clear it and then gripped the offered hand.

"What the hell was that?" Dean yelled over the screams and howls of the monsters that surrounded them. Daryl shot a quick look over to Shane to make sure the monster was still concentrating on the arrow instead of them.

"It's Shane," Daryl said hurriedly, dragging Dean with him away from Shane, "He's tha' thing. The horseman."

Dean's head snapped over his shoulder and his eyes sharpened. It seemed like he could finally "see" what Daryl could see.

"No shit?" Dean quipped, unable to stop himself. "It makes so much sense why that guy was such an asshole."

"This ain't the time!" Daryl snapped, finally releasing Dean's arm. As soon as they broke contact, Dean jerked to a halt and he doubled over, his hands pressed to his head.

"What the hell?!" Dean roared. "I can't…" He bit off the rest of his sentence and then straightened. It took Daryl two seconds to realize that Dean couldn't "see" anymore.

Without stopping to think about it, Daryl took a hold of Dean again; somehow knowing that if they had physical contact, Dean would be able to see what he could see.

There was a flicker of movement from their right and Shane suddenly loomed in front of them. He gave them a sneer and his hand shot out, knocking Dean away from Daryl.

Daryl let out a yell as Dean's arm was ripped from his grasp and his friend landed heavily a few feet away from them.

He began to backpedal from Shane, not wanting to fight the monster on his own; he needed to get to Dean.

However, Shane had other ideas. His hand snaked out grabbing a hold of Daryl's vest, effectively holding him in place. His recently recovered crossbow was knocked from his hand.

Shane's face was clear of any emotion now and Daryl swallowed, knowing what was coming.

The horseman pulled back his other hand, which glinted with a knife, and after a slight pause he plunged it into Daryl's chest.

The breath was sucked into Daryl's mouth and he wordlessly gapped at the handle sticking from his chest.

Shane released his hold on Daryl's vest and let the hunter fall to the ground.

As Daryl lay on his back with blood leaking from his wound, he vaguely heard a distant scream from Dean and wondered what Dean had seen.

Daryl's hands slowly reached up and he touched the knife in his chest; he could feel his life beginning to drain from him.

Shane's face was suddenly above his, sneering again, and Daryl knew what he had to do.

With a determination he didn't know he possessed Daryl's hand tightened around the knife's handle, and in one quick motion he ripped it free.

He couldn't stop the scream that tore from his lips, but the pain didn't stop him from taking the knife and slashing it across Shane's exposed neck.

Daryl didn't see the horseman's surprised expression as blood rained down from Shane's sliced neck onto Daryl, blinding him.

The horseman's body fell on top of him, and Daryl felt a moment of satisfaction knowing that he had killed the monster.

There was another yell from Dean and the weight began to lift off him. Within seconds, Dean's face hovered over his.

His friend's green eyes were wide with horror and panic. "Daryl?" Dean said hoarsely. His hands were pressing against Daryl's chest, trying to stop any more blood from escaping.

"You're going to be okay. I'll make it okay. I promise."

Daryl smiled slightly and felt blood trickle from his mouth.

"Dammnit, Daryl, don't you die on me! You can't die!" Dean's voice was fading, but that was okay. Daryl didn't feel the pain anymore and darkness was beginning to close in around him.

"Daryl!" The name tore from Dean's mouth as he watched his friend begin to slip away. "No!" He pressed his hand down against the gash in Daryl's chest, causing blood to bubble out of Daryl's mouth.

With a cry Dean fell away from Daryl, his bloody hands going up to his face. He pressed them against his eyes, wanting the image of Daryl's dead body to leave his mind.

Dean clenched his teeth together and slowly brought his hands away from his eyes…

…And Dean looked up from his car's dashboard. His head jerked down, half expecting Daryl to be lying near him.

"Sam!" Dean shouted his head snapping to his right. His little brother sat in the passenger seat of the Impala looking as confused as he felt.

"What the hell just happened?" Sam demanded his hands pressed against his head.

"I believe it was Daryl." Castiel's voice from the backseat made both Dean and Sam jerk and go for their weapons, only relaxing when they had twisted around in their seats to look at their friend.

"Daryl stopped Chaos." Castiel said leaning forward. "When he died everything reversed."

"What?" Dean said, "Daryl's not dead?"

"How?" This time it was Sam who spoke. "We lived through the last few weeks with that group and now everything has been reversed? How far has everything gone back?" Sam asked quickly looking out the impala's window.

It was then that they realized how bright it was outside and how clean everything was. Not to mention the crummy motel that they were parked in front of; just like normal.

Dean jerked his head back around to look at Castiel, "You mean to tell me that we've gone back? Back to before this whole mess?"

"Yes." Castiel said. "A day before the virus spreads to be exact."

"Do we have to stop it?" Dean asked, ready to do whatever was necessary to stop the horror from happening again.

"No." Castiel said, "I believe that Michael and the others will not allow it to happen again. The angels and Lucifer tire of waiting. They want their vessels now."

Sam felt a shiver run down his spine and he wondered for a moment how they were going to stop that from happening. He pushed those thoughts from his mind as Dean spoke again, "So…does this mean that no one remembers what happened except us?"

Castiel nodded. "No one will ever recall these past—or rather future—events."

Dean let out a slow breath and rubbed a hand down his face. "What the hell, man." He mumbled into his hand. "Was this all some sort of sick test from the angels up there?"

Castiel shrugged, "I do not know."

"It does seem like something they would do, though." Sam said slowly, "Just to teach us a lesson, type of thing. Like what Zach did to Dean before."

Dean shook his head. "I guess it doesn't really matter, because it's done now." Though, he looked pissed at the thought of the angels screwing with him again.

There was a fluttered of wings and Castiel suddenly disappeared. Dean snorted and then said, "Goodbye to you too, Cas."

After a few seconds he slowly spoke again, "We should roll. I never liked Georgia…"

Dean reached down and turned the keys, causing the engine to roar to life. He shifted gears on the car and slowly pressed the gas down. The impala rolled forward and soon they were cruising down Main Street.

Sam stared out the widow, trying not to look amazed. "Everything's so normal." He commented and then let out a strangled gasp, causing Dean to swerve the car, which earned him several honks and a few choice words from the people around him.

"What the hell, Sammy!" Dean snapped glancing around to look at what Sam was staring at.

It was Lori and Carl. They were playing in a playground, both looked happy and carefree, which was expressions that both Winchesters had never seen on their faces.

Dean shook his head wonderingly and continued driving. They didn't speak as, one-by-one; they saw different people they had been with back in the horror of the apocalypse.

There was T-Dog with what looked like his wife or girlfriend strolling down the sidewalk, their hands intertwined.

Andrea and another younger girl sat outside a diner where an RV was parked, they were chatting to Dale and another woman.

Glenn zoomed by them on a bike, pizza boxes strapped to his bike. He swerved around several cars before disappearing from sight.

Carol was standing outside a small grocery store with Sophia next to her; a man was facing them with an angry frown on his pudgy face. There was a determined look on Carol's face and Dean wondered what she had just told the man.

The impala was nearing the edge of town when they passed a parked cop car. Both Sam and Dean automatically ducked their heads, but not before catching sight of Rick and Shane sitting inside it, laughing.

Dean slowly took a right turn and began to head out of town. He couldn't help but feel disappointed; they hadn't seen Daryl.

Sam seemed to know what his brother was thinking and he spoke up, "I'm sure he's fine, Dean. He's not dead anymore."

Dean mutely nodded. They had pulled out onto a long, abandoned highway when there was a roar of an engine and a motorcycle rocketed past them. Dean's eyes followed the bike, sure that Daryl was on it, but he was disappointed when he realized the man riding the bike was balding and sturdier built than Daryl.

After a few minutes of driving in silence, Dean squinted up ahead. There was a lone figure walking alongside the road. Not knowing why, Dean slowed the car down as they neared the walking man.

Dean's heart jumped into his mouth as he caught a glimpse of the familiar white wings on the back of a vest.

The man turned to look at the car, a scowl on his face, though it lessened as he took in the black beauty that rumbled beside him.

Dean wanted to stop the car and grab Daryl into a hug (no matter how girlish that sounded), but he didn't. Daryl didn't know them anymore and he never would.

As the impala slowly passed Daryl, Dean's eyes caught the hunter's and for a split second Dean could have sworn that recognition glinted in Daryl's blue eyes.

Then the impala passed him and Daryl was left behind.

Dean sighed heavily and reached forward to his radio. He pushed a button and loud music blared through the speakers. Dean threw a quick look to Sam, It's just us again.

Sam nodded and gave him a small smile, we'll be okay.

Dean's eyes went back to the road and he settled himself farther into his seat, preparing himself for the long journey ahead of them.

Daryl watched as the black '67 impala drove away from him. He shook his head, trying to push away the feeling that he knew that car and the men inside it. He should be more concerned about what Merle would say when he found out that Daryl had taken his leather vest. Again.

Daryl smirked as he pictured his brother's face, but the smirk fell away as his brother's face was replaced with another. The man from the car was staring back at him with those green eyes of his and Daryl knew without a doubt that Dean Winchester was more of a brother to him than Merle ever was.

Daryl felt a pang at the name that came to his mind. For a reason he didn't know, Daryl felt like he had just lost a friend, quite possibly his only friend.

Daryl let out a grunt and shook his head. He continued to tramp down the edge of the road. It didn't matter anyway. It's always been him and it will always just be him. He didn't need anyone else, but deep down Daryl knew that wasn't quite true.

A/N: Whew, we're all done.
That was the hardest chapter I had to write for this story (that's why it took me forever to get it up and posted...). I hope that everyone is satisfied with this ending and that it all makes sense.
At some point, I'll probably go back through this story and do a major editing session (I'm so ashamed of some of these chapters), but not for a little bit.

Anyway. I want to say THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed, favorited, or followed this story. I wouldn't have been able to write this without you guys.

Take care.