Cas never let his finger up. He kept it down, hard, emptying the whole clip into the onslaught of croatoan victims. They came from everywhere. They crawled through the open windows, bottlenecking at the entrances and although this made it easier to shoot them, they just kept coming.

"I'm out!" He cried back to Jackson. A croat came screaming at him and Cas raised one boot and kicked her jaw in. She stumbled and Cas took the opportunity to slam the butt of his automatic into her throat.

Jackson from the side threw him a fresh clip which Cas slapped in immediately, then fired upon six more screaming croats.

From the side there was sudden cry of pain and Cas looked to see Risa being surrounded by four of them. They pulled her down, their teeth snarling, nails tearing.

He turned to help her, to put her out of her misery at least when he was tackled from the side. He went down, twisting wildly, shoving his elbows and knee to fight off the offending croat. Cas managed to kick him away, but two more took his place.

From the side he could hear Jackson and the others screaming, being torn apart. Cas was screaming too at this point, as one croat bit off three of his fingers and another was gnawing at his calf. He fought and kicked and yelled obscenities but more and more croats descended upon him.

Soon all he saw was blood- his blood and the terrifying blackness on the edge of his vision. As the world slowly turned black, he wondered and prayed, if Dean succeeded.

He knew he didn't.


Cas jerked awake. His legs kicked out, his hands going up in a defensive pose to ward off blows. When nothing happened, he slowly lowered his arms, his eyes darting around. He was alone.

He touched his torso, his fingers, found them all intact and not digested. Shit, was that a dream? Usually the drugs he took kept such nightmares away. But he didn't feel high…

Slowly he got up, still on guard. He looked around, not recognizing the building he was in. It was old and dilapidated, but it wasn't the old and dilapidated building he died in. There were no bodies, no blood or gore or croats. Just him.

Fuck, he didn't even have his gun.

Cas ran a shaky hand through his hair, trying to remember what the hell he took that sent him on such a wild acid trip. Was it acid?

He jumped when he heard a noise and mentally berated himself for acting like an idiot. He quickly ran to a far corner, ducked behind a rotting door. He heard shuffling, shoes scraping against the floor, the noise slowly coming towards him.

Cas squatted down, patting himself for a weapon. A pistol, a knife, a fucking fork! Didn't he bring anything with him?

Slowly, carefully, he peered around the rotting door.

There were three of them. Teenagers. They sat, huddled in a group, passing around… beer?

This wouldn't have surprised him; how many times did he sat around in some shackle, passing out warm bottles to Dean and others? No, it wasn't the youth of the group, the beer, or the sex talk they were having, it was the clothes they were wearing.

Nike sneakers. Hoodies with logos on them. Gold watches. Nobody had those kind of luxuries anymore.

Where the hell was he?

It took careful maneuvering to leave the building without alerting the drunken teenagers. Cas didn't believe they were croats, but it wouldn't kill him to be careful.

Once he was outside, the sun blinded him for a moment.

He was surrounded by old buildings, sitting next to unused or uncared for railroad tracks. Iron tracks, he noted. So those kids weren't demons or croats. So where the fuck was he?

When was he?

Cas suddenly grinned. He walked over, letting out a slow whistle at the beautiful red sports car sitting out all by her lonesome. Definitely not his time.

Well, it would be a crime to allow those boys drive this beauty while under the influence, Cas thought gleefully as he shoved himself down into the driver's seat. Within three minutes he had the car running and peeling out of there.

He wasn't sure where he was going and took a left to what looked to be the main road. He leaned forward, switched on the radio and a blast of the Beastie Boys rang out.

He waited.

Usually it was at this point, when the individual began to realize what situation they were in, did the angel decide it was time to pop in. Cas kept glancing to the passenger seat, expecting for Zachariah to show his face.

Nobody did.

"Why am I here?" Cas said out loud. "Do you wish for me to change the future? Do you want me to find Dean and help change his mind?"

Nobody answered. The radio didn't even blip.



This was… eerie.

People walked past him. Happy, uninfected people. Women, men, children for god's sake. A few threw him dirty looks and Cas supposed they were not unfounded. He was kinda scraggly looking.

Still, walking around like this in the open with no weapon…

Cas felt the world move beneath him and he reached out to a lamp post to keep from falling down. Perfect timing for a panic attack. Stupid.

He jerked when a hand was placed on his shoulder. A young woman- pretty, he might add- was looking at him with concern. "Sir, are you alright?"

Cas flashed her a dazzling smile. He learned very quickly that women found him attractive and should use that fact to his advantage whenever possible. "I'm fine, just a little dizzy," he told her. "Say, you wouldn't have a cell phone I could use for a quick moment?"

She was hesitant until Cas turned the level up on the charm. By the time he got his hands on her cell, she was blushing six shades of red.

Even though it been a few years since he'd use a cell phone, he still remembered Dean's number. He remembered a lot of things.

The cell on the other end rung three times before a gruff, "Hello?" came through.

Cas felt his heart beat a little faster. "Where are you?"

"Cas?" He heard Dean mutter. "Uh… Tulsa. The Hush hotel… room 123."

Cas ended the call. He wondered briefly how Dean was going to react when his Castiel will not show up in the next five seconds.

He thanked the girl and handed back the cell phone. Tulsa was only a half hour drive from here. If he hurried, he could get to Dean before he decided to call Past-Castiel, wondering where he was.

Shit. Cas wasn't sure if he was ready to meet past-him.


The ride was too relaxing for his nerves. It was always a sign when there was too much silence. He knew there was no virus at this point in time and he should sit back and enjoy. Was this post-traumatic stress? He needed a beer.

Still, it was nice to see the land untouched.

He pulled up to the Hush hotel's parking lot and immediately zeroed in on Dean's precious black Impala. Dean had let the poor beauty go to rust simply because it was not designed for over-terrain environments. It was one thing driving it on the back roads of the states, it was another trying to drive it over fallen bodies and debris.

Cas got out of the car, having no plans to use it again. By now those little boys were probably calling their mommies and daddies and reporting the car missing. He stalked towards Dean's room.

The door unexpectedly opened and on reflex, Cas threw himself behind another car, hiding himself. Two individuals came out of the room. One was Dean and the other-


No, not Lucifer. Not yet at least. Sam Winchester.

"So did Cas say anything to you?" Sam asked Dean as they made their way to the Impala.

"Nothing," Dean said opening the car door. "He just asked where we were and hung up. He'll probably pop up at some point today."

Sam frowned. "That isn't like him."

So, is he the reason Cas was sent back to this time? Was he to prevent Sam from saying yes? How, by killing him? By telling him of the future? Cas had no idea why Sam said yes. Nobody did.

He watched the Impala drive out of the parking lot, the familiar roar of the engine music to Cas's ears. He assumed they went to grab lunch, considering the time. Or maybe it was a case. Either way, he wasn't going to let them out of his sight.


Edit: 4/24/10. Added a few things, just made a few sentences flow better.

A/N: This story is non-slash. Though it's not exactly Gen, either. Interpret as you will. R/R, please.