Kansas City, Missouri

    Dean Winchester had been driving peacefully when an unconscious blonde appeared in his backseat, one arm draped over  her stomach and the other hanging off of the seat. He jumped, his eyes widening, and the car swerved on the road for a brief moment before he managed to get it under control. He eyed her unconscious figure in the backseat, furrowing his eyebrows and twisting around to see that it was Cassandra. She didn't seem to be injured but Dean also couldn't see her that well. He pulled off to the side of the empty road and cut the engine.

    "Cassandra." She didn't stir. He rolled his eyes and reached back, shaking her. "Cassandra, wake up." She groaned and her eyes fluttered open, the glow of the dim street light reflecting off of her blue irises. She glanced around groggily before sitting up, holding her head. Dean stared at her with raised eyebrows.

    "What?"

    "You can't return my texts but you can poof yourself into my car?" Dean asked. Cassandra furrowed her eyebrows.

    "I didn't do that," she muttered. Dean leaned forward, studying her eyes.

    "Are your eyes red? Were you crying? Why were you crying? Jesus, Princess, you look like hell," he told her. She scoffed, shaking her head.

    "You don't know the half of it." She let out a sigh and licked her lips, her gaze lifting to meet Dean's. He seemed tired, more so than usual. The bags under his eyes were darker and deeper and his eyes seemed to had lost some of the hope that was left. "Where are we?"

    "Kansas City, Missouri. The hotel I was going to stay at is just a few blocks over but you decided to just pop in without warning. Do you even know how to work a phone?" His voice rose slightly and Cassandra rolled her eyes.

    "You're mad," she stated.

    "Really? I had no idea!" Dean retorted sarcastically. Cassandra scowled and narrowed her eyes at him, still holding a hand to her head. It felt as if her brain was pounding against her skull and she could feel her stomach churn in sickness. Whatever Cas did to her had a bad affect on her physically. "Did you improve at all in your training?" he asked calmly. She shrugged, nodding her head to the side.

    "Somewhat. I mostly just got pissed off. I don't believe I was supposed to be back yet, though." Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair, nodding.

    "Okay, let's just get to the hotel and get ahold of Cas and see what he says. I'm sure he sent you here for a reason." Cassandra got out and switched over to the front seat, closing her door just as Dean started to drive off again.

Most of the ride was silent and Cassandra took notice to how distant Dean was from her, both mentally and physically. She didn't say anything about it. She only watched the scenery pass by, getting out of the car when Dean had pulled up to the motel. Dean grabbed his duffel from the trunk before slamming it shut, turning to look at Cassandra with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't you have a bag?" he had questioned. She shook her head.

"Uh, left it where Cas and I trained. I'll be fine without it. I'm sure I'm not staying long anyways." Dean nodded and they started to make their way up to the motel room, Cassandra tuning out the brief conversation between Dean and the religious man. His eyes followed Cassandra until she disappeared from his line of sight, rushing up the stairs with Dean to their room. "How have you been?" Dean stopped as he unlocked the door, turning to glare at the blonde.

"How have I been? Maybe if you answered your phone you would have known." He pushed open the door, Cassandra following in and quietly shutting it behind her.

"Dean, I wanted to reply but I couldn't. Castiel needed me to stay focused on my training. Why are you so mad? It wasn't even that long," Cassandra replied, watching as Dean flung his duffel down at the foot of the bed. He opened his mouth to reply back but decided against it, shaking his head.

"It doesn't even matter anymore. Forget it."

For two hours Cassandra and Dean sat around in silence waiting for Cas to call. When he finally did Cassandra eyed the phone warily, gulping. She hoped that the angel wouldn't make her breakdown a topic. Lucifer had gotten in her head. He had done what he wanted. What's done was done.

    "We're talking about the Colt, right? I mean, as in the Colt?" Dean asked into the phone, glancing out the window before pulling the curtains closed. Cassandra simply sat back on the counter, her eyes following his every move.

"We are," Castiel confirmed from the other line.

"Well, that doesn't make any sense. I mean, why would the demons keep a gun around that, uh, kills demons?" Dean replied. Cassandra could hear a loud whooshing sound rush past Castiel on his line and she started to wonder just where he was.

"What? What? Did—I didn't—I didn't get that," Cas shouted. Dean started to laugh, opening the fridge and stuffing a six pack of beer inside before closing it again.

"You know, it's kind of funny. Talking to a messenger of God on a cellphone. It's, you know, like watching a Hell's Angel ride a moped."

"This isn't funny, Dean. The voice says I'm almost out of minutes," Cas sneered. Cassandra chuckled and shook her head, pulling out her own phone and staring down at it. She swiped her thumb across to screen to clear off any lint and dust before unlocking it.

"Okay, all right. I'm—I'm telling you, Cas, the mooks have melted down the gun by now." Cassandra sighed and pulled up her texts, opening the unread ones from Sam. She figured she could reply now that she wasn't with Cas anymore.

Sam Winchester

9:26pm

Are you okay? You never replied back. Did he find you?

Cassandra rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, debating on whether she should tell him the truth or not. Cassandra looked up to make sure that Dean wasn't looking at her phone before replying.

Cassandra Moore

10:35pm

I'm okay. I'm with Dean now. No, no sign of Lucifer.

She turned off her phone, deciding to keep from talking to anyone else for the rest of the night. Cassandra wasn't in the mood to socialize for a long time, but she had a feeling that the plan would backfire pretty quickly.

"Well, I hear differently. And if it's true and if you are still set on the insane task of killing the devil, this is how we do it," she heard Cas say.

"Okay. Where do we start?"

"Where are you now?"

"Kansas City." Dean flopped down on the bed and reached across, grabbing the room key to read the hotel name and number. "Century Hotel, room one-one-three," he finished.

"I'll be there immediately." Cas went to hang up when Dean practically yelled out, stopping him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. No, no, come on, man. I just drove like sixteen hours straight and Cassandra randomly appeared in my car thanks to you, okay? I'm human. And there's stuff I got to do," Dean grunted. He glanced over at Cassandra who rested her head against the cabinets behind her, her eyes closed as she let out a deep breath.

"What stuff?" Cas questioned. Cassandra rolled her eyes behind closed eyelids.

"Eat, for example. In this case, sleep. I just need like four hours once in a while, okay?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so, you can pop in tomorrow morning."

"Yes. I'll just—" Dean hung up, cutting off the angel. Dean looked towards the Nephilim who sat on the counter, her eyes still closed but her breathing pattern unsteady. She was still awake.

"Hey, Princess—"

"No. I'm fine with the floor." Dean nodded slowly, not expecting that answer. He sighed and laid down, pulling the blanket over his body. He figured that she would've wanted to sleep with him since it seemed to help her.

"More bed for me then, I guess," he grumbled. Cassandra hopped off of the counter and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Dean eyed the bathroom door curiously before brushing it off, letting his eyes flutter closed.

He was woken up a few hours later by another phone call but Cassandra blocked it out, instead staring at herself in the scratched mirror. She lifted her shirt up, running her fingers along the scars on her stomach. She had tried healing them when she was alone but no matter what she did they never disappeared.

She sighed and let her shirt drop back down. She went to reached for her angel blade to study it before realizing that Castiel still had it. Cassandra huffed. "Great," she muttered. "Now I'm defenseless."

~*~

    The next morning Dean awoke to Cassandra's shaking voice and an uncomfortable bed underneath him. Now, he was used to old, hard, springy beds from rundown motels, but this one was as if the mattress had been stripped off and left with just the springs. And when Dean sat up and glanced down at it, it looked exactly as it had felt; destroyed; bare.

    "Dean," Cassandra said, turning to face him. "What the hell?"

He pushed himself off of the bed of springs and stood up, glancing around the room in confusion. The room looked as if it had been destroyed in a war in the middle of the night while he was sleeping. The walls were coated in grime and soot, the alarm clock shattered, the window broken out. The only thing that separated Dean and Cassandra from the outside world was a curtain and a crumbling brick wall.

Dean walked over to the curtain and parted it, leaning out the window slightly and glancing around. His green eyes widened. Kansas City had been completely destroyed, almost like a nuclear bomb had gone off. He knew that it wasn't like that when he went to sleep. The city had been alive and the sidewalks were bustling with people, almost like in New York. But this time the streets were empty with the exception of debris and scorch marks.

"Cassy, what time is it?" She pulled her phone from her pocket and turned it on.

"Around eleven in the morning," Cassandra replied. She scrolled down to Cas' name, stopping when she glanced in the top left corner of the screen. "No service," she read. Dean spun around and eyed her warily, snatching the phone from her grasp. He let out a string of curse words and handed it back.

    "You got your mojo working?" Dean turned to look at Cassandra, greeted by the sight of her ice blue eyes flickering to the color of the deepest ocean. He turned just as it flickered out weakly. He nodded, clearing his throat. "Good. We may need it." She followed his gaze towards the foot of the bed where his duffel bag once sat. The space was empty, the floor scorched in return. They exchanged glances before racing out of the room, taking the stairs down to the lobby.

    Dean and Cassandra walked out of the hotel, taking in their surroundings as they made their way into the street. Cassandra glanced down at a refridgerator lying in the middle of the sidewalk where the religious man had stood just the night before. She nudged it with her foot, jumping back when a rat scurried out of it.

They continued to wander down the streets, walking about three blocks before the duo stopped and listened to the sound of glass shattering. Dean's head whipped towards the sound, eyebrows furrowed. Cassandra took his side and caught up with him, turning into the alley to see a little girl sitting on the ground, a teddy bear lying just a foot away from her with a sheet of broken glass in between the her and the bear. She was the first sign of life that the Hunter and Nephilim had seen so far, and Cassandra was afraid that she could be the only sign of life around for miles.

"Little girl?" Dean called out, stopping a ways away from her. She didn't reply, she didn't look up; she only traced her finger along the glass. "Little girl?" he tried again, slowly walking towards her. "Are you hurt?" She didn't reply as he crouched down in front of her.

"You know the not-talking thing is kind of creepy, right?" Cassandra chimed in, standing beside Dean.

Blood dripped from child's mouth and onto the glass before she shrieked, snatching up one of the shards of glass and slicing at Dean. He dodged the hit along with the next before landing a punch to her jaw, knocking her out cold and sending her flying into a mattress off to the side. Dean hissed in pain and glanced towards Cassandra who stared at the girl with wide eyes before turning to see a large piece of graffiti on the wall across the alleyway from them.

Croatoan was painted across the wall in large red letters, causing Dean's green eyes to widen.

"Oh, crap." Cassandra glanced between the Hunter and the graffiti.

"What's Croatoan and why do I have the feeling that it's almost as bad as the Apocalypse?" Cassandra asked. Dean turned to look at her, nodding his head to the side.

"Because it almost is as bad as the Apocalypse. It's a biblical virus. If we come across anyone don't let them bleed in you," Dean explained. Cassandra raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain further. Dean opened his mouth to continue but stopped when he caught sight of a crowd of people rounding from the corners of the buildings, staring at Dean and Cassandra as if they were their prey. His eyes widened and he grabbed onto her arm. "Cassy, let's go!" She ran alongside him, Dean's grip tight on her arm the whole time the infected chased the couple down the street.

The Hunter glanced over his shoulder every few yards to see how far back they were, tugging Cassandra as if to tell her to move faster. The infected got closer with every second, running after Dean and Cassandra until they found that they were cornered by a chain-link fence.

"Shit," Cassandra muttered. She grabbed onto Dean's shoulder to teleport them out, furrowing her eyebrows when it wasn't working.

"Now would be a good time, Princess!"

"It's not working!" They slowly spun around upon hearing the footsteps, their eyes widening as the infected crowd advanced towards them. "Hand-to-hand combat?"

"Looks like it. Get ready." The sound of gunfire distracted the duo briefly, bullets piercing the crowd of the infected and knocking them to the ground. Cassandra's gaze snapped towards a tank rolling up from the other side of the fence and Dean dove to the ground, taking cover from the flying bullets. Cassandra followed, shielding him from any stray shots. Glass shattered from the gunfire, bullets soaring through the air and the infected continuing to collapse dead to the pavement.

Soldiers climbed out of the tank and advanced towards the infected, Dean and Cassandra crawling on the ground as fast as humanly possible to get as far away from the gunfire as they could manage. They escaped into an alley just in time, taking cover from the war going on just a few yards away.

~*~

    Hours later Dean managed to dig his way through a fence, slipping between the metal and the wall. Cassandra followed suit, brushing the dirt from her pants as she stood up. She and Dean glanced around in search of anything that could tell them what the hell was going on. Cassandra stopped, her eyes widening. She reached out and grabbed Dean's shoulder.

    "August first, two-thousand-fourteen," Cassandra read. She turned to face Dean, gulping. "What the hell is going on?" Dean shook his head.

    "I don't know but I have a feeling that our favorite winged-douchebags are behind it." Dean nodded his head towards the car behind them. "Come on. Let's see if we can get this thing started." Cassandra nodded and stepped over broken glass, following him towards the car. She took watch as Dean flicked the wires together, waiting for a spark and the engine to rumble to life. Cassandra's eyes skimmed over the area and she frowned slightly when she found that they were the only ones. As of now they were all alone in a world they didn't recognize.

    Dean had managed to get the car started and he and Cassandra climbed in, taking off down the road. They both held up their phones in search of service, glancing at each other as if to ask if they had gotten even one bar. Cassandra sighed. "Nothing. You?" Dean shook his head.

    "Try the radio." Cassandra leaned forward and flicked on the radio, cringing when it was just pure static. She instantly turned it off. "Well, that's never good. What about Angel Radio? Anything on there?" Cassandra sighed and shook her head.

    "For the first time in years there's only silence. It's oddly terrifying." Dean snorted and the blonde cracked a smile, her eyes focused on the scenery passing by. "It's obvious these are the angels, but what are they trying to tell us?" Cassandra questioned. Dean shrugged, his gaze shifting between the blonde and the road. She continued to try and reach out to Angel Radio, her eyes closed as she focused solely on the voices of angels.

    "'Croatoan pandemic—" Dean jumped in his seat, throwing his arm up ready to hit something, and Cassandra gasped and whipped her head around to see Zachariah sitting in the backseat. "—reaches Australia'," Zachariah read, newspaper in hand. Her lips curled into a scowl and she narrowed her eyes in his direction.

"I thought I smelled your stink on this Back to the Future crap," Dean said. Zachariah turned the page and continued to read, ignoring Dean's comment.

"'President Palin defends bombing of Houston.' Certainly a buyer's market in real estate. Let's see what's happening in sports. That's right—no more sports. Congress revoked the right to group assembly. What's left of Congress, that is. Hardly a quorum, if you ask me," Zachariah rambled on. Dean rolled his eyes and took his eyes off the road to stare at the angel in the rearview mirror, Cassandra twisted around in her seat to keep her eyes on him.

"How did you find us?" Cassandra demanded.

"Afraid we had to tap some unorthodox resources of late—human informants. We've been making inspirational visits to the fringier Christian groups. They've been given your images, told to keep an eye out," Zachariah responded, never taking his eyes off of the newspaper in his hands. Cassandra and Dean exchanged confused glances.

"The Bible freak outside the motel—he, what, dropped a dime on us?" Dean inquired.

"Onward, Christian soldiers," the angel muttered. Cassandra rolled her eyes, reaching out and slapping the newspaper from his grasp. Zachariah only glared at her.

"Okay, well, good, great. You have had your jollies. Now send us back, you son of a bitch," she spat. Zachariah sighed, nodding.

"Oh, you'll get back—all in good time. We want you to marinate a bit," he told him. Dean furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and glanced at the angel in the rearview mirror.

"Marinate?" he questioned.

"Three days, Dean. Three days to see where this course of action takes you," Zachariah said. He focused his gaze on the blonde in the front seat. "You, too, Cassandra. Heaven knows about your most recent...interaction and they're not taking it lightly." Cassandra's face paled and she turned back in her seat to face the road, her mouth now dry and her throat scratchy.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean demanded, still not looking back at the road. He wasn't referring to Zachariah's comment on Cassandra, but the comment on their choices of denying Heaven's demands.

"It means that your choices have consequences." The newspaper snapped as Zachariah held it up to show Dean in the rearview mirror. "This is what happens to the world if you continue to say 'no' to Michael. Have a little look-see," he replied, nodding his head towards the windshield before vanishing into thin air. Cassandra spun around in her seat to say something, her mouth closing when she found that he was gone. Dean scowled and smacked the steering wheel. The blonde let out a huff of defeat, leaning her head back on the seat.

"No wonder why I can't hear Angel Radio. There might not even be any angels left," Cassandra said. Dean sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, well, we got you. You better pray you get your mojo up and working again or we may be screwed."

~*~

    Dean and Cassandra had gone to the first place Dean could think of. It's where the Winchesters always went for refuge

"Bobby? Bobby, I'm coming in!" Dean yelled as he entered Bobby's house. Cassandra reluctantly followed inside, afraid of what she would find. Her breath hitched in her throat when she saw the living room that she had been stitched up in. Instead of being greeted by the sight of books littering the room and Bobby Singer drinking a glass of some type of alcohol, they saw overturned chairs and tables overtaken by cobwebs and dust.

     It was clear that no one had been there for a long time, but when Dean walked into the kitchen and saw Bobby's wheelchair on its side, all hope drained from him. "Oh, no." Cassandra rushed into the room, stopping just outside of the doorway. Dean set the wheelchair upright, seeing three bullet holes in the back of the seat with dried blood stained just under the entry holes. "Where is everybody, Bobby?" Dean wondered aloud. He turned to look at Cassandra whose lips were parted in shock. Wherever they were, it had to be Hell on Earth.

The duo made their way to the fireplace, Dean brushing a spiderweb out of the way to pull out a stone. It revealed a hidden compartment where what seemed to be a Hunter's journal rested. Dean opened it, flipping through a few pages before pulling out a black and white photo. There were five men, two of them being Bobby sitting in a wheelchair with Castiel next to him. He couldn't seem to recognize the other three, but they were all armed with shotguns. No one was smiling.

"Camp Chitaqua," Cassandra read as her gaze landed on a sign off to the side of the men. She and Dean exchanged glances. If they wanted answers then that's where they had to go.

~*~

Cassandra and Dean approached the sign from the photo. Men with shotguns were just along the fence, patrolling the area. Dean jumped back into the bushes to stay out of sight until the men passed by and Cassandra lingered at his side. She surveyed the area, her eyes landing on a the Impala, smashed up and rusting to Hell. She nudged Dean's chest and pointed to the car.

"Oh, baby, no," Dean whimpered. He and Cassandra ran along the fence, just dodging a man's gaze, and slipped through a small gap. Dean just barely fit through but Cassandra managed to make it through perfectly before the two raced over to the Impala. Cassandra's heart broke at the sight. Despite not holding many good memories she had grown to love Baby.

Dean peered into the driver's side, the door missing. "Oh, no, baby, what did they do to you?" He could hear footsteps approaching and he turned to see who it was but was knocked out before his eyes could focus in the dark. Cassandra looked up with wide eyes and gasped, stumbling back into the tree when she recognized the emerald eyes. His gaze hardened on the blonde.

"I thought I made it clear to never come back, you self-centered bitch." Before Cassandra could reply the blond man landed a sharp punch to her jaw, knocking her out immediately. She collapsed next to Dean.

~*~

Dean awoke, pulling his hand away only to discover that he had been handcuffed to a ladder. He tugged on the cuffs a few times before glancing around the room. His gaze fell upon a man identical to him across the room cleaning a gun. Dean's eyes widened. "What the hell?" Future-Dean looked over to him. Dean shifted his gaze towards Cassandra who was tied to a pole across the room. She struggled against the ropes, gritting her teeth as she locked eyes with Dean.

"I should be asking that question, don't you think? In fact, why don't you give me one good reason why I shouldn't gank you right here and now?" Future-Dean told him, pointing the gun at Dean. Dean held a hand up and opened his mouth to reply when Cassandra beat him to it.

"Because you'd only be hurting yourself. And I'd gank you right after, you son a bitch," she spat. Dean stared back at his future self with a slight smile on his lips, a smile that told the other two in the room that he feared for his life.

"Very funny."

"Look, man—I'm no shapeshifter or demon or anything, okay?" Dean assured his future self. Future-Dean nodded, setting his rifle down on the table. He glanced back at Cassandra in a way that seemed longing before returning his gaze to Dean. Cassandra stopped struggling, raising an eyebrow. He had a soft spot for her.

"Yeah, I know," Future-Dean replied. "I did the drill while you were out. Silver, salt, holy water—nothing. But you know what was funny? Was that you had every hidden lockpick, box cutter, and switchblade that I carry. Now, you want to explain that? Oh, and the, uh, resemblance, while you're at it?" Dean let out a silent sigh, glancing up at the ceiling before looking back to Future-Dean.

"Zachariah," he said simply. Future-Dean obviously didn't like the word that had come out of his mouth, because he stood up and glared at Dean. Cassandra kicked the pole that she was tied to, rolling her eyes after. It was a support beam.

"Come again?"

"I'm you from the tail end of two-thousand-nine. Zach plucked me from my bed and threw me five years into the future with Cassandra," Dean explained. Future-Dean slowly approached him, staring down at Dean with his fists clenched at his sides. Cassandra watched with interest.

"Where is he? I want to talk to him."

"I don't know." Future-Dean arched an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Oh, you don't know." Cassandra rolled her eyes and tugged at the ropes.

"No, we don't know. Look, we just want to get back to our own friggin' year, okay?" the blonde snapped. Future-Dean wiped his mouth and continued towards Dean, completely ignoring the blonde behind him. Cassandra figured that if he kept ignoring her then their history somehow went to shit in a way that upset Dean beyond forgiveness.

"Okay. If you're me—" Future-Dean crouched down in front of him. "—then tell me something only I would know." Dean sat for a moment, thinking, before his lips curled into a smirk. He snuck a glanced over at Cassandra who relaxed against the ropes, curious as to what he would say.

"Rhonda Hurley." Future-Dean cocked his head to the side. "We were, uh, nineteen. She made us try on her panties. They were pink. And satiny. And you know what? We kind of liked it." Future-Dean eyed him, nodding, ignoring the snort that escaped Cassandra's lips. Dean instantly regretted saying it loud enough for her to hear, knowing she'd bring it up again sometime in the near future.

"Touché." He walked back over to the table, picking up a handgun and cocking the hammer back. "So, what, Zach zapped you two up here to see how bad it gets?" Dean nodded his head to the side.

"I guess. Croatoan virus, right? That's their endgame?" Future-Dean nodded, wrapping the strap around his rifle and stuffing it into a duffel bag. He glanced back at Cassandra. His gaze drifted down to her ropes before he turned back to his duffel bag.

"It's efficient, it's incurable, and it's scary as hell. Turns people into monsters. Started hitting the major cities about two years ago. World really went in the crapper after that," he explained as he messed around with all of the weapons scattered out across the table. From the way his voice dropped, Cassandra knew there was something he wasn't telling them. Something bad

"What about Sam?" Future-Dean stopped and froze, a bad memory obviously striking his mind. But it was more than just Sam that was involved. It was what happened with Cassandra right after that.

"Heavyweight showdown in Detroit. From what I understand, Sam didn't make it," Future-Dean said softly. Dean's face fell and he glanced between Cassandra and his future self in shock.

"You weren't with him?" Dean questioned. Future-Dean shook his head, pursing his lips.

"No. No, me and Sam, we haven't talked in—hell, five years. A lot of shit happened between the three of us that year. It didn't end well for any of us," the blond told Dean. Dean watched as he grabbed a knife and walked over to Cassandra. Her breath hitched in her throat. He had called her a bitch when she first saw him. She didn't know what he was going to do. Cut her? Stab her? Kill her?

"We never tried to find him?" Dean inquired, not at all worried about the fact that he had a knife to the Nephilim. Future-Dean shook his head, shrugging.

"We had other people to worry about," Future-Dean told him, slicing the ropes that bound Cassandra to the pole. She breathed a sigh of relief, sending a small smile the blond's way. He never returned it. He only turned on his heel and grabbed his duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

"Where you going?" Cassandra questioned, knowing better than to stop him. Her gaze flickered between Dean and his future self, wanting to follow him but also unlock Dean's cuffs.

"I got to run an errand. Cassandra, you're coming with." Her eyes widened and she raised an eyebrow at Future-Dean.

"Excuse me?"

"Whoa. You're just gonna leave me here?" Dean asked in disbelief. Future-Dean nodded, grabbing the rifle.

"Yes. I got a camp full of twitchy trauma survivors out there with an apocalypse hanging over their head. The last thing they need to see is a version of 'The Parent Trap'. So, yeah, you stay locked down." Dean rolled his eyes, scoffing.

"Okay. All right. Fine. But you don't have to cuff me, man." Future-Dean continued to walk towards the door, grabbing Cassandra's wrist and pulling her along with him. She tried to tug her wrist from his grasp but it was too tight. "Oh, come on. You don't trust yourself?" Future-Dean stopped at the door and turned to look at Dean.

"No. Absolutely not," he replied before walking out, closing the door behind him.

"Dick."

    Cassandra stumbled down the steps after Future-Dean, struggling to stay balanced as he practically dragged her behind him. She let out a huff, grabbing onto his arm and stopping him. "Wait. Wait. Why are you taking me with you?" she demanded. The blond stopped and turned to stare at her, his gaze drifting down to her lips before lifting back to her eyes. He had missed those blue eyes. He missed waking up to them or seeing the sparkle when they'd sing along to the radio in the car, out of pitch with horrible voices. He missed the relief that flooded over them when he returned from a separate hunt, alive and in one piece.

    "Because you need to see what happens if you continue to say no to your father," he said simply, continuing to walk. Cassandra furrowed her eyebrows and kept up with his pace, pulling her wrist from his grasp. He let go when he realized that she wouldn't run. She was too curious about what the world was like.

    "I don't understand. What the hell happened that turned the world into this? Michael was destined to defeat Lucifer without me so why couldn't he do it? Why did he need me?" Cassandra questioned. It had been long enough at that point in time where no one would recognize Cassandra as Michael's daughter. She had been gone far too long for anyone besides Chuck, Castiel, Sam, or Dean to know who she was. Everyone who knew her true identity had been killed years earlier. She was simply known was something else to Dean. Someone who had disappeared years earlier, now presumed dead.

Future-Dean tossed the duffel bag into the back of the truck and turned to face the blonde behind him.

    "After you had said no two years ago, Michael had wanted to kill you. You would only stand in the way." Cassandra's eyes widened. "Lucifer didn't seem to the like the idea of killing you so he took away your Grace. You were left human and vulnerable. I told you to stay back at the camp where it was safe because you still didn't have enough physical skills that would keep you alive. You relied on your angel training greatly," Future-Dean explained. Cassandra nodded.

    "Yes, okay, but why am I a bitch to you? Did I like sleep with another guy at camp or something? Kick your puppy? I don't understand," she replied, desperate for answers. Dean hadn't liked her in the beginning but she thought that they had moved past that. Future-Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair, chuckling softly as he shook his head.

    "No, you didn't sleep with someone else or kick my puppy. You came with me on the mission anyways. You snuck in another vehicle and you lasted pretty long in combat." To Cassandra he made it sound like she had died, but it wouldn't make sense. He told her to never come back, so how could she come back if she were dead? "Lucifer got you, Cassy, and he said that if you took his side then he'd give you back your Grace. You accepted the offer, thinking you could play both sides." Cassandra's face fell.

    "What happened after that?" she whispered, almost too scared to know the answer. Future-Dean sucked in a sharp breath and nodded. He glanced over her head before finally looking into her eyes.

    "You were sent on a mission to infiltrate the camp and infect every survivor. You didn't do that because you still cared for all of us, but what you didn't know is that it was all a distraction. Lucifer and Michael battled and you weren't there to stop it like you had promised; like you were supposed to do. Millions died that day." Cassandra shook her head, taking a step back. She didn't believe it. She refused to believe a word he said. "Every time I looked at you all I could be reminded of was the fact that we cared for each other so much that it cost people's lives. I told you to leave and never come back. You did just that and I haven't heard from you since. You're dead for all I know."

    Cassandra leaned back against the truck, staring blankly at nothing. She couldn't bring herself to believe Future-Dean's words. She refused to believe that she was the reason Michael and Lucifer had their battle

    "I don't blame you. I blame myself." Cassandra looked up to the blond. His voice was gruff and harsh despite his words being soft and sincere. He had seen things that no human should see; lived through things that no soul deserved to live through. He was a man who had seen Hell on Earth and Hell beneath. "I blame myself for letting myself get close to you the first time Sam left when you had that crash with Ruby. I shouldn't have kissed you that day."

    "That can't be the cause for all of this." She held her arms out as a gesture to everything around them. "It was a kiss. We were in the moment and you just happened to prolong it a bit further. I left to train with Castiel and you grew cold towards me. At least that's what it's looking like," Cassandra said. Dean chuckled, shaking his head.

    "No. It's my fault because I fell in love with you when I knew I couldn't have you."

So....what do you guys think of the future? Do you want Dean and Cassy together? Future-Dean seems to have a soft spot despite his heartless demeanor that we all know.