Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/1344904.

Rating: Archive Warning: Category: Fandom: Character: Series: Stats: Not Rated Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings Gen Dark Angel, Supernatural Dean Winchester, Logan Cale, Alec McDowell | X5-494, Max Guevara | X5-452, Logan Cale | Eyes Only, Castiel (Supernatural) Part 2 of Worlds Published: 2014-03-21 Chapters: 6/6 Words: 13332

World Through Walls

by InsaneTrollLogic Summary

Logan hasn't seen Dean since the shooting but their paths are about to collide again.

Notes

Originally posted to LJ, complete 8/19/2009

Chapter 1
In a strange sort of way, he knows hes dreaming. Knows he has to be dreaming because this was all over years ago. He hasnt had a dream about the blonde girl with the red dress since he woke up in the hospital minus functioning legs and he doesnt have any reason for starting now. Except the girl in red is creeping toward him with a smirk on her face. Except he is seeing white eyes and remembering white light. Winchester, Winchester, Winchester, Cale. Two by two, both doomed to fail. Winchester, Win-- Logan wakes up in a cold sweat. It is still dark outside but he knows he wont be going back to sleep anytime soon. He hasnt heard from Dean Winchester in two months. He doesnt know why hes so worried. Its not like Dean calls him with any regularity. Its a postcard about once a month and Logan leaving a message in the Winchester drop box whenever Eyes Only finds anything paranormal instead of just criminal. But Dean always sent something after hed finished a job Logan had tipped him on. It would come in two weeks later, dated at the top with a few chatty lines about him and his brother that dont say a thing about monsters but are more a way of saying Im here. Im alive. The postcards are never signed but the handwriting was familiar and it makes Logan feel better to know Dean is out there. But he hasnt heard from Dean in two months. Which is weird because the last he heard, the Winchester brothers were making their way up the west coast. Logan had left a message about a rash of poltergeists almost five weeks ago and hed been expecting Dean to show up on his doorstep, ten years older with the same smirk and a few new scars. He has been looking forward to it for a long time. If only to prove he hadnt dreamed it all. He hasnt seen Dean since he woke up in the hospital. Hasnt seen Dean since 2009 and now its 2022 and staring at the transgenic called Alec he keeps feeling that pang for the man who kept him alive in the aftermath of the shooting. Yesterday, he strapped on the exoskeleton, loaded his gun with homemade salt rounds and took care of the problem. He broke the exo, broke his ankle and found himself back in the wheelchair as the last of the transgenic blood was starting to wear out. He knows hes not going to stand back up. And maybe thats why hes thinking of Dean Winchester right now. Maybe thats why hes scrounging through his old files looking for every scrap of paper the man has sent him over the past two and a half years. Maybe thats why hes freaking out over missing his stack of post cards even though they were probably part of the mess that had been lost in his penthouse last year.

He isnt panicking. He just leaves another message on the Winchesters answering machine, sorts through the normal jumble of Terminal City muck, does a half hour research on Eyes Onlys newest project and goes back to sleep thinking of how numb his broken ankle feels and how things are going to have to work themselves out in the morning. He wakes up in daylight to a commotion outside his window and he starts the day by pushing himself up out of bed, planting his broken ankle on the ground and collapsing in a heap. But he adjusts just like he always adjusts. Like hed learned to adjust in 2009 where hed woken up to ride shotgun to a demon hunting Dean Winchester. Just like hed learned to adjust again when he woke up in his right time missing motion from all of his lower extremities. The wheelchair is a familiar prison and pushing himself out of the door feels strangely inevitable like he was never meant to be on his feet for long. Terminal City moves twenty times faster than he does, their world spinning at hyper speed. He wants to think he used to move that fast in his youth, or maybe he moved that fast in the few short months where he hunted ghost and demons with Dean Winchester but sitting right now, staring up at the world from his permanent vantage point, he cant imagine it. What happened to you? Max asks. Been a while since you went with the wheels. Poltergeist problem but she doesnt need to know that. The government has made it their business to remove the transgenic problem. White is making his push. The whole thing was a mess and he still cant think of anything but the girl in the red dress mocking him from his dreams. You seen Alec? he asks. Max looks surprised. But then again she always looks surprised when Logan asks about Alec, like their tentative friendship was something of an affront to nature itself. But Logan genuinely likes Alec. At first the friendship had been largely to satisfy his curiosity at the mans physical similarity to Dean but after a few roadblocks along the ways, it had progressed into the first friendship Logan had made in years. Still, he knows most people would never have gotten over their first impression of a doublecrossing Manticore agent sent to assassinate his alter ego. He wouldnt have given Alec a second glance if it wasnt for Dean. No, Max says. But hes got a shift at Jam Pony. Shouldnt be too hard to track down if you need him. Logan doesnt need to track him down so he doesnt say anything else. Max is standing next to him, far enough away so that to reach out and touch her would be impossible. They have learned this dance well, anything else would result in his death, but he misses the old days, long nights bent close together over a computer screen or in a car on a stakeout. He doesnt even long for a kiss. He hadnt known enough of that to miss it. All he wants is a friendly pat on the shoulder that wont get him killed. Its too dangerous now and Logan understands but he wonders what will happen if the virus is ever cured. He half suspects that after two years, the habits are too ingrained to ever change. Ive got some research I could be doing, Logan says.

And Ive got to get back to the mission. He wonders when she stopped being his best friend. He loses himself in the research. Hes been pouring over texts of prophecy for the past three days, something he never would have considered before the accident three years ago. But he believes in nightmares now so its only logical he believed in the rest of the occult stuff that came with it. On the side he is running his usual scan of the informant net for possible Eyes Only cases and another through the newspapers for events of paranormal nature. He has come the to the unavoidable conclusion that his life is incredibly strange. But hes adjusted. If he has to split his time between transgenics and Eyes Only and hunters, then thats what hell do. There is a definite nest of vampires in Idaho, a businessman repackaging drugs in Seattle and the cult planning an apocalypse. He elects to focus on the cult. He is getting nowhere and suspects that he will be get nowhere until they actually start to make their move. This is not a scenario he likes. He calls a hunter from his slowly mounting list of paranormal friendly contacts so he can feel like he accomplished something. At three PM everything goes to hell, but its not Terminal City unless there is at least one major crisis. He just hopes no one wound up in a zoo this time. He considers for a brief moment going outside to confront the problem and is even to the point of pushing himself to his feet when he remembers the broken ankle and the lack of supercharged blood and he sinks back, selfishly wanting to keep up his illusion of strength for as long as he possibly can. He pulls up a news feed within minutes. An explosion in sector four. Seattle is no stranger to explosions these days but they still make Logans heart leap up in his chest. Nine to one this was aimed at the transgenic and the flood of people outside were transgenics ushering one another into their infirmary. Logan doesnt have the medical expertise to help this so he sits and watches with mounting horror wondering if Eyes Only could say anything to make this kind of violence stop. He doesnt know how long he sat watching but he is snapped from his trance by a rap on the door. One of the younger X-6s poked their head through. Logan is ashamed to say he doesnt know the boys name. Mr. Logan? We need you in the med bay. I dont know if theres anything I can do, Logan says tiredly. Its Alec, Mr. Logan, the boy says. He was unconscious when they brought him in. Theres a lurching panic in Logans chest. Is he all right? The kid shakes his head vehemently. He woke up, Mr. Logan but theres something wrong. You should come. Max thinks maybe you can help. He doesnt know how. He hasnt felt like he could help for years now but hes Logan Cale so hes going to try. Lets go, he says, wheeling himself out the door toward what the transgenics have designated their infirmary. He can hear signs of the fight before he sees it. There is the crash

of someone being thrown into a wall. There is a clamor of excitable voices. Max says, Alec, look youre hurt and youre confused but you need to calm down. And then a different voiceone Logan isnt used to hearing speak with quite this level of intensitysays, Are you all out of your freaking mind? Who the hell is Alec? Who the hell are you? Where the hell am I? Wheres Logan pushes the door open and for a moment, all eyes swivel toward him. Alec blinks like its the first time hes seen him in years and chokes, Logan? Logans eyes widen. There are a million things off with this Alec. Its something about the way he carries himself, the slight slouch rather than the military straight posture. Its something about the panic in the eyes of someone trained to keep those ticks under wraps. It was in the inflection of the voice and the pattern of words. Piled up together it screamed that this man in front of him was not Alec. Nonetheless, it is someone he recognizes immediately. Dean? Max throws up her hands in frustration. Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?

Chapter 2
Dean calms but only slightly, casting a weary eye at Max before looking back to Logan. Wheres my brother? Brother? Max repeats. Alec, this isnt funny. My names not Alec, Dean growls in her direction. Logan, wheres Sam? Is he all right? There was an explosion. There was a--- He hesitates and suddenly the mask is back in place. There was a hostile threat. I need to find him. I have no idea where Sam is, Logan says. Calm down. Calm down, Dean says with a bark of hysterical laughter. There was a thing and then there was an explosion and Sammy was shouting and then I was here... He looks around as if truly noticing his surroundings. Im here and youre here and you definitely know who I am. He squeezes his eyes shut. Dude, what year is it? Youve got to be kidding me, Max groans. Its 2022, Logan says. Dean sinks back against the hospital bed, looking momentarily skyward. Of course it is. He levels his gaze. So is this body me of the future or am I borrowing some poor bastards meat suit. His name is Alec, Logan says. Son of a bitch, Dean mumbles. Tell me about it. Logan, Maxs voice cut through the air, the intangible equivalent of grabbing him by the arm and forcibly steering him out of the room. He knew this roll even better than the old one. You going to be all right for a second. Im pretty freaking far from all right, but yeah, Im good for a minute. Outside, Max is forced to lower her voice. There were a multitude of other transgenics around, all of them with enhanced hearing, all of them more than willing to eavesdrop if voices were raised because as Logan has found out, transgenics were more gossipy than teenage girls. Logan, youre going to tell me whats going on. Its an order. Logan blinks. He remembers briefly how the two of them used to be a team. He does not enjoy taking orders. Thats not Alec, he says simply. Of course its Alec! Who else could it be?

Dean Winchester, Logan says evenly. Dean Winchester? Fine. Say I do believe that Alec has been body swapped with this Dean Winchester instead of faking a personality transplant in order to pull some prank. How the hell do you know him? Logan draws himself in. This is not something he has discussed with Max. In reality, this is not something he has discussed with anyone. It was too important. Too fantastic. I met him before the shooting, he lies. I did have a life before you came along. Something like hurt flashes through her eyes and he regrets his words immediately but not to the point of taking them back. This is where they were now, lashing out because they could reach out. He squeezes his eyes shut. I dont really care if you believe me or not. Im going to go talk to Dean. He leaves Max standing there in the chaos of Terminal City and turns back to Dean, shutting the door behind him. It is disconcerting to watch. Dean is a mass of jitters while Alec had been the picture of tranquility no matter the situation. Been a while, huh, Logan, Dean says. Havent heard a word since you disappeared in a flash of white light. Three years for me, Logan says, folding his arms across his chest. I was starting to think I dreamed you, Dean says. Or that Sam made you up out of thin air. We found youpast you that is. Couldnt believe you where the same guy. He lets out a harsh snort of laughter. Past you was kind of an asshole. People change. Been about three months for me. And let me tell you, they sure as hell felt like three years. Tell me about it. They lapse into silence but its nothing like the uncomfortable silences he tends to share with Max. Its something different, the two of them already easing back to their easy comrodery from their bizarre few months in 2009. So how do we fix this? Logan finally asks. No idea, Dean says. Me and Sam did the body swap thing a few times when we were younger and let me tell you its annoying as hell to wake up and suddenly be yeti-sized but its never done the swap through time before. Howd you fix it before? Depended on what did it. Spells usually reset on their own. If its a demon, you gank it and youre fine. Curses always have some hidden catch you have to trip. This time me and Sam were after a demon and something jumped us. There was a flash of light and then I woke up here. No idea which one it could have been. Logan settles back into the his wheelchair, settles in for the long haul. And what happens to Alec?

The poor bastard whos body Im wearing? He shrugs and Logan can see just how much the idea bothers him. Back in 2009 with Sammy if I had to guess. Probably having the same conversation were having now. He inherited more than a few problems. Hes not the only one. Dean shoots him a look. The Devil just busted out of hell. Thats a very big problem. Obviously we did something to stop it, Dean says. Because while this place looks like shit it doesnt exactly look like hell. Youre in Terminal City. Alec was in an explosion. He was brought back here for medical treatment. Guess I should be glad Alec shares my aversion to hospitals, huh? Dean swings his arms back and forth and flexes his fingers. Everything seems to be in working order though. I feel better than I have in years. Click in the shoulders gone. Ribs dont hurt. I cant remember the last time I didnt feel like Id just been run over by a truck. Logan laughs because he doesnt know what else to do. Doesnt know how else to explain Alec and Manticore, cloning and genetic engineering. They are from different worlds with different problems and different people. They have coexisted before and they will make it work again but they dont quite fit together. They never have. So, Dean says finally. Research? Yeah. Got to get Dean back so he can put the Devil back in Hell and save the world. Sadly it is not the weirdest thing that has happened in the past three years. ***

They wind up back in Logans room with a dozen books spread across all available surfaces. Logans head hurts. There are demons of every sort, the seven deadly sins but nothing the can reach through time and swap two men who look identical but arent. Did you notice anything different about the demon? Logan asks. Anything about the eyes. No. Dean snaps his own book shut and grabs a new one. I always hated this part of the job. This was always Sams gig. Im used to research, Logan says, turning a page. If theres a way to get you back well find it. Dean leans back in his chair, pointedly ignoring the heaps of research. So you got shot, huh? The question comes abruptly but its not said with malice. Its just a statement of how things are.

Yeah, Logan says. That really sucks, man. Logan feels a rush of warmth at this man. It may have been the first time since the shooting someone had gotten it. Everyone else sees the chair before the person, focusing on the disability like it was something that defined him rather than something that just happened to him. Yeah, he says, just a little hoarsely. Yeah, it really did. All right. Dean claps his hands together. Awkward acknowledgement over. Theres only one thing outside of my little brother that I know can yank some poor sap out of his time and dump in another and thats an angel. An angel? Dont get your hopes too high, future boy. Every angel Ive ever met has been a dick. Lets get a move on, theres some stuff I need to pick up if were going to do this. What are we doing? Were summoning Castiel. Castiel? Were summoning an angel? Are you out of your mind? Do you know what sort of people hang out here? Believe me, Im no stranger to sinning. Logan is a little more worried about transgenics and people playing God. Besides, Dean continues. Cas is an old friend. I thought all the angels youve met are dicks. Dean flashes him a smile. The kind of smile Logan has come to associate with 2009 and the Winchesters and the mess that had come with it. It was resignation and fearlessness tinged with desperation. Fighting blind and way over his head but still fighting. Hey, he says lightly. Who says you cant be friends with dicks? Youre friends with me. Logan shakes his head. Guess youre right. Lets go summon an angel. ***

Moving through Terminal City, Dean is a man on a wire. He keeps flinching every time he sees a nomilie and Logan hates himself for not stopping to explain before this all. Nothing to worry about, he says when Dean shoots yet another panicked look in his direction. Ill explain later. Hey, Alec, the half lizard is grinning at him, cigar hanging from his lip. Hey yourself, grunts Dean. His fingers curl into fists.

Anyone in 20-12, Mole? Logan asks. Free up. You think you can make it stay that way. Mole scowls. Logan sighs. Theres a pack of cigars in it for you. Thats what I call a deal, Cale. Rooms yours. This place is really freaking weird, Dean hisses to Logan. Three passing X-6s hear him. Its a relief when the get to room 20-12 and close the door behind them. It is a large room with thick walls and doors that lock from the inside, a room that typically functions as a panic room, a room where dozens of transgenics had huddled during the siege last year. What the hell is this place? Logan shut the door carefully behind them. I think the best way to describe it is a refugee camp for transhumans. And I say again, what the hell? In the late nineties the government funded a campaign to genetically engineer the perfect soldier. They used DNA from various sources including animals. Some of the early mixes were less than perfect. Anyway, about two years ago, the facility was destroyed leaving the soldiers to scatter. This is insane. You know this is insane, right? Youre about to summon an angel to help you get back to the past. Yeah, well at least Im not friends with the creature from the black lagoon. You got any tentacles I should be aware of? Im human as the come, Dean. But you might want to get over some of these prejudices of yours because the guy whos body youre wearing is very much a transgenic. Son of a bitch, Dean hisses. Please dont tell me I look like Im half bat. I need to get out of here. Ive got a reputation to uphold. What do we need to do the summoning? Logan asks, moving toward the emergency supplies. I think weve got more or Cas! Dean howls, throwing his head back. You son of a bitch. We had this talk, youre supposed to freaking warn me before you bust out the DeLoreans. Logan is pretty sure that is not how you are supposed to go about summoning an angel. Damnit, Cas, I know youre up there. Why dont you get your lily white ass down here and tell us what the hell is going on.

Then out of nowhere, there is a sound of something like fluttering wings and when Logan turns around theres a man standing behind him. A man in a trench coat with a white shirt and a loose tie. He has dark hair, light eyes and a five-oclock shadow. Cas, youre a sight for sore eyes, Dean says. How about getting me out of this time and back where I belong. Im afraid things are not as simple as they seem. Dean leans back against the wall. Of course they arent. Cas, come on, angels are the only bunch I know that can do the time warp at will. What gives? It should be noted that angels are not the only beings who have within their power the ability to manipulate time. Fallen angels also command this power. Great, Dean says. So Lucifer and his buddies decided it was time for me to stop in and say hey to future boy. Fine. Im cool with that. But why? In what possible universe is this a good idea for anyone involved? It is a commonly known fact in both heaven and hell that Dean Winchester is the only one capable of stopping Lucifers rise. Hell has simply used the opportunity to remove you from the equation. I get that. But you can put me back, right? Castiel looks away but his expression does not change. I cannot. What? Only the demon who created the warp has the ability to undo it. It is shielded from my eyes. But if this situation is not remedied I fear all will be lost. What happened to Alec? Logan cuts in sharply. He didnt just disappear, right? The one called Alec now occupies the space that was once Deans. So the have animal freak show has my body now. Super. How about Sam. Is he all right? Castiels fixes Dean with a stony glare. At the point of the timelines interruption he is in good health but already the changes from this abominations plot are trickling through to this present. I will shield you both from these effects as long as I am able. Hold on. Changes? Logan says. What do you mean, chan--- But Castiel is gone in a flutter of wings.

Chapter 3
Shield us from what? Logan asks, panic rising. Im all right with a lot of weird things but... There is a loud incessant knocking on the door and a second later, Max crashes through, fists clenched in fury. Dean stares at her, eyes open. Green guy is so losing his cigars. Wheres Alec? Max demands, moving too fast for Logan to see. In a split second, she has Dean pinned to the wall by the neck. Logans first instinct is to reach out and touch her. To pull her away from his friend before she can kill him but he notes her bare forearms and his own ungloved palms. What the hell are you doing, Max? I talked to psy-ops and they cant tell me much but they can tell me that Alecs gone and this thing is in his place. She tightens her grip and sneers at Dean. What are you? Max, I already told you who he is. One of Whites men? Max presses. Another clone? Logan can see Deans lips trying to form his name. No sound comes out. Youre killing him! Tell me who you are! Kill him and Alecs gone too. Maxs head snaps to Logan and Dean uses the distraction to break Maxs hold on him. He collapses to the floor gasping for air as he hisses, Christo! Christo, you crazy bitch. Nothing happens. There is no flash of black in Maxs eyes. Dean scrambles to his feet in a kind of fury that looks so unlike Alec Logan doesnt know how anyone could confuse the two. Calm down, Dean, Logan snaps. Everythings fine here. Max alternates her gaze between Logan and Dean, confused with the former, incredibly wary of the later. Finally, she settles on Logan and says, You and me. We need to talk. Dean, Logan says. See you back at the room. Dean nods once. Max glances over her shoulder and shouts, Mole. Follow him there. Leave him alone but make sure theres no attempt to leave. He doesnt need a babysitter, Logan snaps. Shut the door behind you, Max orders. The door slamming sounds impossibly loud even to Logans normal, human ears and he imagines briefly that he can feel the reverberations snaking up through his broken ankle. Max, whats going on?

Whats going on? Max repeats. I dont even know where to start. You can start with why this is all suddenly directed at me. In case you havent forgot, Im on your side here. Maxs eyes are icy when they finally connect with his own. Not a single ounce of their usual affection. Tell me whats going on with Alec. Weve already had this conversation, Max, Logan says, exasperated. She is standing too close for his taste. Inches between flesh rather than feet. He would retreat if he didnt think she would take it as a sign of weakness. Its been a long time since they were this careless. Remember? This morning. Thats Dean Winchester and I need you to trust me. Trust you? Maxs voice is filled with the kind of venom usually reserved for Alec at his most annoying. It hasnt been directed at him in almost three years. Why the hell should I trust you? Alecs the only chance we had at infiltration and then yesterday, about three hours after we let you in on this little piece, Alec drops us the sign for extraction. When we get there, the place is on fire and the guy we pull out isnt Alec. Which means he must be cult. She meets his eyes. Which means you must be cult. Logan is genuinely speechless. Tell me something, Logan, Max pleads. I dont want to believe it but youre not really doing a hell of a lot to defend yourself. I didnt even know Alec was on an infiltration. Logan presses a hand to his temple. I thought he was at Jam Pony this morning. I swear. Maxs face softens just a little and she makes a move toward him. Logan immediately moves the wheelchair in reverse to maintain the distance. Its a habit now, ingrained just as much as brushing his teeth before bed. There must always be at least six inches between Maxs largest reach and skin contact with Logan. Always. But Max is looking at him strangely. Looking at him like she doesnt understand this distance. What the hell is wrong with you, Logan? Nothings wrong with me, Logan says. He feels like he is back in 2009, sitting next to Dean Winchester, bluffing his way through a life that isnt his. I didnt sell you out and Dean isnt cult. I promise. I want to believe you. So believe me. Its not that easy. Fine. Logan squeezes his eyes shut. Then give me a day. Twenty-four hours. I need to figure it out for myself before I even think of explaining it to you. All right, Max breathes. But you and looks like Alec are in your room. Well be watching. If

you try to leave, the orders are to take you out. No chances. And shed do it if she had to. Shed do it herself, put Logan Cale in her crosshairs and pull the trigger, bam . He blinks and for a split second hes lying in the street in 2019, staring up at the hoverdrone as that world blurred into 2009. But then hes back in the present and Max is still staring at him. He smiles but it doesnt feel right on his face. Understood. ***

Dean is sitting on his bed when Logan finally rolls himself to the room. He looks every bit as shaken as Logan feels. You all right? he asks. He looks like me, Dean says, staring at his hands. Me when I was about nineteen but he looks just like me. What the hell are you talking about? Alec, Dean says. This guy whos body Im wearing. He could have been me ten years ago but its 2022 and every time I move it goes just a little too fast. He stops, breathes. Christ, I miss Sammy. He would have figured this all out already. Manticore used DNA from any number of places. Logan hesitates. I have no idea how they found yours but they did. This whole thing just skeeves me out. At least you dont have to worry about accidentally changing the past, Logan says lightly. Dean gives him a watery smile. Logan smiles back and switches to business. Time travel and body hopping asides, did anything about what just happened seem really off to you? You seriously think I can judge something like that right now? Theres something off about Max, Logan says. Dean blinks as if clearing his vision. Thats the psycho girl, right? Lady chokes-a-lot. Crazy bitch she may be but damn can she fill out some jeans. Logan can recognize Deans autopilot. Knows hes turned his brain off to deal while leaving his mouth to say whatever but he still cant stop himself from saying, Shes not a psycho. Shes more or less responsible for assimilating a city full of mutant ex-soldiers into post-Pulse Seattle while simultaneously combating a centuries old breeding cult bend on world domination. Dean leers at him, a little more involved in the conversation now. So youre saying you tapped that? Future boy, Im proud of you. My little Logans growing up. Seems like only yesterday you were sitting in my passengers seat, lying your ass off to me. A blush creeps up Logans neck. Max and I have logistical issues.

If you need the talk, Dean leers. If Max and I touch, Im going to die. She was infected with a genetically altered retrovirus specifically targeted to my DNA. Dean snorts. Never mind. That kind of talk is not in my repertoire. Logan settles back. She knows youre not Alec and she thinks Im kind of involved with this. Theyve got us under surveillance. And here I was going to suggest joining forces to go kill a fallen angel. Theyre going to kill us if we set foot outside this room, Logan says. Weve got to figure this out. Dont you get it, future boy? Theres no figuring this out. Its hard enough to find lore on the freaking angels. Before last year me and Sammy didnt even think they could exist. And thats before we even start with fallen angels. Fallen angels are a whole different ball game. There are some who wind up human, others who hang with the devil. The time-travel thing, I only know about that much because of experience. Theres nothing, nothing on it in the books. Me and Sam looked. And if they couldnt find anything on it before the Pusle, Logan doesnt know what they could possibly do about it now. So whats future me up to? Dean asks. I get if you cant give me information because of the prime directive or whatever but I gotta ask. Prime directive? Logan raises an eyebrow. Never would have pegged you as a Star Trek kind of guy. Shut up. You sent me a letter and few post cards, Logan says. Ive dropped you a few tips on cases. Set you up with some ID cards a few times. Talked on the phone once or twice, but its hard to get a handle on cell reception. Best I can tell youre in better shape than I am. Dean nods once and looks away. Logan wheels backward to his makeshift pantry, grabs a bag of chips and tosses it in Deans direction. Way I figure it, we do dinner and sleep. Any luck it goes away in the morning. That ever happened with us? He pops a few chips into his mouth and tosses the bag back for Logan. I dunno about you but I think this needs some alcohol. Logan laughs. Here here. ***

Three hours later theyre both pleasantly drunk over a bottle of Alecs super-strong home brew. Theyre laughing at something but Logan cant for the life of him remember what set them off. Its

been a long time since he laughed this hard, a long time since he got drunk without getting completely miserable. Dean starts pouring himself another glass. Were probly under surveillance rinow, Logan observes. Wonder what theyre thinkin'. Theyre stupid, Dean calls. They cant tell a shapeshifter from a bodyswaper and thas just incompetent. They dissolve back into giggles. Dean tries to take a sip and nearly falls off his chair, putting a hand on the desk for support. A pile of Logans neatly ordered papers collapses to the floor. The same pile that should have housed the collection of Deans letters and postcards over the past three years but didnt. Sorry, Dean mumbles, scrambling to pick up the papers and failing rather spectacularly. Then, all at once he freezes. His hand is on a piece of yellowing newspaper. The laughter is gone from his eyes. Wassamatter? Logan asks. Dean sits back against the desk and hands the paper up to Logan. Its a short, five inch obituary. It takes Logan a few seconds to focus long enough to read it but once he does he feels suddenly and completely sober. Two bodies identified as Sam and Dean Winchester were discovered yesterday... The date on the story is August 1st, 2011. Thought you said I was all right, Dean whispers. Fuck, Logan if I was dead you should have just said I was dead. Its not like it would have been surprised. But this isnt Right. It hadnt been like this yesterday. Dean Winchester was alive in 2022, him and his brother on a swing up the west coast and anytime now, he was gong to stride into Logans room, alive and fine just like he was in 2009. Youre not dead. Last post I got was three months ago. You were fine. You and Sam were fine. The make the next connection almost simultaneously. Logan hears Castiels voice ringing in his ears. Already the changes from this abominations plot are trickling through to this present. We still remember how the right way went, Logan says. He presses a hand to his forehead. He can already feel tomorrows hangover. Why do we still remember? Castiel said he would shield us as long as he could. Logan stares straight ahead. Castiel cannot protect them forever. The clock is ticking.

Chapter 4
Hes dreaming again. He knows hes dreaming. He has to be dreaming. If I cant have you, the girl in the red dress tells him. Ill make sure you cant have the world either. Its mine to play with. Mine to rule. Wake up, Logan tells himself, you need to wake up. Youre mine, too, Logan. She starts moving toward him. Logan tries to back up but his legs dont work. In the end, youre going to do exactly what I tell you. She extends a hand toward his face and Logan finds he cant move to stop her cant do anything but watch and wait for... He shoots upright in bed. Dean is sleeping on the ratty couch, in the throws of his own nightmares. Or at least he thinks it is Dean. Without his glasses, the world is shrouded in a soft haze. Dean, Logan hisses. His head is spinning but its nothing he cant handle. Dean doesnt move. It takes a few seconds of blind groping before Logan locates his glasses from the makeshift nightstand, nearly knocking them over in his haste. The world crystallizes into sharp focus but theres nothing of the usual sunlight sinking in through the windows. Its something different. A vague green tinge Logan has never seen before. He cant find his wheelchair. He doesnt remember exactly how he got to his bed last night but knows it is illogical for his chair to be anywhere outside his reach. Dean, he calls, swinging his legs over the side of the bed more out of habit than anything. And then his toes touched down on the cold stone floor. Everything slows down. Cool. The floor is cold against his bare feet. He can feel it. He wiggles his toes. Everything is in working order. The transgenic blood was no doubt gone by now. He shouldnt feel anything. He cant even feel his broken ankle the night before. Because his ankle isnt broken.

He rotates it slowly, first left, than right. The same sort of strengthening exercises theyd given him when he sprain his ankle during a basketball game in high school. Perfect. He snakes his hands back down his spine, searching for the nasty puckered bit of skin. Searching for the scar from the bullet that had robbed his legs from him. Its not there. There is nothing but smooth skin. This is Logan Cale. Unbroken. There is a thick scar off his left elbow that he doesnt recognize. It looks like a knife wound but hes never been stabbed. Not there at least. Theres a tattoo over his left shoulder that he knows wasnt his work. Dean! he says again, more urgently now. He pushes himself up wobbling on unsteady legs like a newborn colt and stumbles toward the couch where he can see Alecs frame fast asleep. As soon as he touches Dean, he shoots up with such force, Logan nearly loses his balance. Dean is in attack mode until he sees Logan and then he calms in fits and starts. Hell, he mutters. Wasnt looking forward to waking up to your face. I was hoping this would be over in the morning. Something changed, Logan says. He feels vague stirrings of vertigo that he wants to blame on a hangover but knows he cant. He had gotten used to life closer to the floor. Youre on your feet, Dean observes. Which means I never got shot, Logan says. Which means I never should have met you. Can this wait? My head is killing me and I havent even started on thinking yet. Youre wearing Alecs body and I know transgenics dont get hangovers so get your act together. Youre supposed to be the expert on this. Fine, Dean rubs at his eyes. You noticed anything else that changed. Logan pulls down the collar of his shirt to reveal the tattoo. This definitely wasnt here yesterday. Deans face goes pale. Why did you get that? I dont even know what the hell it is. Its a symbol used for keeping demonic possessions out. Not something the average person needs. Hell, not even something the average hunter needs. Me and Sammy have some but thats a very special case. Something changed overnight, Logan says. His brain is lagging three steps behind his body. He is having problems making connections. He feels like he is back in 2009 all over again, straining to keep hold of his world as his body fought

for life in the future. But this is wrong. This feels more wrong than 2009 ever did. He looks at the green light leaking in through the window. Dean, somethings wrong with the sunlight. Logan has seen panic before. He has seen Max on the verge of capture. He has seen Zach fighting without memory in the face of his own betrayal. He has see Alec beaten and bruised and left for dead. He has seen Dean himself wild with worry for his missing brother. But he has never seen this before. Has never seen this level of utter panic. Has never seen true terror before. The color is gone from his face. His eyes are wide. His hands are shaking. He looks like hell break if Logan touches him but he cant help himself. Offering comfort is not something he can do for Max anymore but he can do it for Dean. He lays a hand on his shoulder to steady him. What is it, Dean? Hell, Dean says after a long moment and Logan cannot recall a more broken sound, like shattering glass on the still air. Its Hell. His voice is getting stronger, but the tension in his frame is far from gone. This shouldnt be here. Hell? Logan repeats. The Pulse was one thing but-- This shouldnt be here! Dean snaps. This didnt happen. It wasnt like this when I woke up. Something changed, Logan guesses. Something changed when this thing swapped you for Alec. Because you werent there. Castiel said he was going to try and shield us from it. So everything around us is changing, but were staying the same. Weve got to get it back, Dean mumbles. We cant letthis cant happen. Youre going to have to tell me what happened back in 2009, Logan says. He is a problem solver. He always has been but he cannot do this without the facts. After I left. Sam told us to get behind him and then there was light. Sam killed Lilith, Dean says listlessly. He thought it was the Right Thing. He laughs dryly. I was rooting for it. Logan thinks of the girl in red who still haunts his dreams. Cant say Im sorry to hear it. The armies of hell were trying to break the sixty-six seals. Cas said they were like locks. Last one breaks and the Devil busts out of Hell. Sam icing Lilith turned out to be seal number sixty-six. You said it was three months after that. What happened? Cas dropped by. Dean sounds like hes reciting the story. Like hes on autopilot. Like hes already resigned himself to Hell. Told me the angels thought it was all part of a divine plan. A war that would end with eternal paradise or damnation. He tried to stop it and they dropped him from their ranks. Blacked him out from angel radio. I dont know much except the Devils out and Im supposed to be the only one who can stop him. Thats a hell of a lot to put on one guys shoulders. Tell me about it. Dean lets out a snort of laughter. You know I spent four months in Hell. Never told you that whole story, did I? Four months feels like forty years. By the time the angels

pulled me out, I was practically dark side. I cant do this again. We need to do something. Now. We need to find Max, Logan says. He is moving through a haze. Walking by his own power but he isnt used to it. No matter how strained their relationship was Max was a constant. He needs a constant right now. Hed leaned on Dean the first time, but this time it is Dean who needs his support. There is nothing available for him to hold onto. Thought she was looking to kill us if we made an escape attempt. That was the yesterday, Logan says. This is a whole new world. ***

They move slowly outside and into the sickly green light. There are screams off in the distant. Logan can barely hear them but to Dean with Alecs borrowed hearing, they must sound impossibly loud. Hed been half afraid that their location had changed completely during the night but after a moment Logan was able to recognize the ruins of Terminal City. Terminal City has always been run down, the buildings in disrepair, but over the past two years, the transgenics had installed a sort of order to them, a working chaos. They werent this made maze of burnt out shells in front of him. That was impossible. Only it isnt impossible. Its right in front of him. Dean is lagging a step behind him and Logan is half afraid that if he isnt moving, Dean will stop there forever, stuck in the memories of his own time in Hell. So he starts moving toward Terminal Citys weapons room. It is illogical to think it will be in the same places as the one he knows, even more so to think that it might actually be stocked with munitions, but he has to do something, It feels like his feet know the way even though his mind is still foggy with confusion. He dodges through the wreckage at a pace just short of a run, stepping nimbly like his body has been doing this his whole life even if his brain has not. Almost miraculously, there is a room left untouched. Logan knows how to get through, knows how to pick out the nearly hidden doors that open into a rather impressive munitions stalk. Logan stops as soon as he gets in side, almost in awe. Hes accumulated a modest arsenal against the supernatural over the past three years but it was nothing like this. There were hex boxes and sawed off shot guns and an array of different charms strewn throughout. This looks like one of Dads old places, Dean mumbles. The door closes heavily behind them. Logan jumps at the sound. Hello? he calls. Is anyone here? Cavernous silence answers him. Max? he calls.

Logan can just barely make out a gaunt figure with short dark hair through his smudged glasses. Christo, a gruff voice says. Christo yourself. Logan? Its Max. Max coming out from the darkness with too-short hair and sunken eyes. Yeah, Logan says. Its me. She looks at him hard for a moment, something unrecognizable in her eyes and then, moving with what Logan has mentally dubbed the superman blur she suddenly has her arms around him, hugging him tight, her face buried into his neck. And its wrong. He cant move to hug her back. He knows the virus in all likelihood does not exist in this alternate world, but still, he cannot shake the wrongness of her touch. I though theyd got you. Max mutters. I woke up and you were just gone. She makes a move like shes going to kiss him, but Logan finds himself stiffening, flinching away from it with the instinct borne of two year of non-contact. Its not that the spark is gone, its that hes trained himself to ignore it out of self-preservation. Well, Dean says, breaking the silence. This is awkward. Maxs head snaps away from Logan, locking eyes on Dean with a singularly predatory look he only recognizes from the photos Lydecker had sent him of the X-5 children. You, Max growls, draws a knife and lunges for him.

Chapter 5
Dean reacts on instinct. Logan can see that much in his eyes. All the humor is gone, replaced by an almost soldier-like proficiency. For the first time since this happens, he sees Alec in his friend. Sees Manticore in his training, in his almost militant fighting style. Dean knows how to fight. His technique is miles ahead of Max whod stopped her training at age nine. But Dean is at a disadvantage. Max knows how to use her speed. With Alecs borrowed body, Dean has that kind of speed but doesnt realize it. All his movements that should have been perfectly controlled swing just a little too wide, look just a little wild. Max, stop! Logan calls. She doesnt stop. The blade swings back and slices through the fabric of Deans shirt. He stumbles. Logan has to force himself to touch her, has to mentally override all his instincts to avoid her skin as he reaches out to halt her arm before the blade can bite through Deans skin. It is a bad idea. He knows it even before his skin makes contact. After all these years, he still has not learned his lesson. She wheels around almost on autopilot and plunges the knife into his shoulder. White hot pain seers across his body, shooting up his arm. It feels like getting shot somehow and when he blinks, just for a second hes in 2009 again as Sam Winchester screams, Get behind me! Its Dean and not Max who catches Logan before he hits the floor. I dont think youve hit anything important, Dean says but his words are warping badly and he closes his eyes again only to see the demon girl in the red dress. Hes not a demon, Logan mumbles thickly. He blinks and hes in that alley again. The alley in 2009, stunned that hes still alive. The knifes gone and theres a warm pressure over the wound. Hold on, he hears Dean say. Logan, stay with me. Kaboom, the girl in the red dress whispers from the depths of his mind. ***

He wakes up groggily two hours later. Theres a roaring pain in his shoulder but its been rather expertly bandaged. He sits up slowly. Dont you think youre wasting holy water, he hears Dean say. Really Ive passed all your tests. Iron. Holy water. The Devils Trap. What the hell do you want to do, tie me down and perform an exorcism? Weve had your kind before, Max says. Infiltration. I dont trust anyone outside Logan.

Why? Dean asks. I mean he seems like Dr. Do-Good but the first few months I knew the guy, he did nothing but lie to me. He looks up, noticing Logan was awake. Dude, dont get me wrong, youre a stand-up guy but seriously, I was a little thrown by the pathological lying. Cut me a break, Logan mutters. He sits down, just out of contact range of Max. I thought you were a serial killer at the time. Dean shakes his head. Fucking shapeshifters. Logan smiles. Im sorry, Max says. But exactly how do you know this idiot. Because last I checked, X-5 494 has been possessed by a demon for almost ten years. What? Logan asks. Its not just the idea that bothers him but the fact that Alec, his friend, Alec, had been reduced to no more than a series of numbers. A barcode. Theres no demon in here, Dean says. Promise. Like Im going to take your word for it, 494. Dean opens his mouth in to retort but Logan beats him to the punch. Thats not 494. He takes a deep breath. And Im not the Logan Cale you know. He doesnt know what he expects. Honestly, hes a little surprised he doesnt get stabbed again. Okay, Max says, Ill play. If youre not Logan and hes not the demon possessing 494, who the hell are you? Oh, thats still Logan Cale, Dean informed her with a wide grin. I just you can just think of him as an earlier model. But Im not 494 or Alec or whatever the hell you call this guy. My name is Dean Winchester. Recognition flashes in Maxs eyes. Bullshit. Dean Winchester is dead. Trust me sweetheart, Dean drawls. Im hard to kill. Fine, say I do believe thats really Dean Winchester. Who the hell are you? Still Logan Cale. Just not this worlds Logan Cale. Like a parallel universe thing? Ive met a few people who say theyre from a parallel universe. What happened to them? They died. Sounds promising, Dean snorts. How do I know youre really Logan and not some guy trying to fuck with me? The knife wound in his shoulder aches, singing her betrayal. I dont know.

Who is Eyes Only? she asks. I am, Logan replies. He watches Deans face crease in recognition out of the corner of his eyes, but he trusts Dean more than he trusts anyone else. Where did I live when I was a kid? Manticore. How did we meet? You were trying to rob me. Broke into my penthouse through the skylight three years ago. Penthouse, Max scoffs. You seen any building higher than a story standing in the past three years? Hold on, Dean says. Youre telling me this place has been like this for three years. Closer to ten. But if you were really Dean Winchester, I think youd know that. What happened to Terminal City? Logan asks before the argument can escalate. He is struggling to keep his voice even but knows something of the pain and frustration has to be seeping through. Last I saw it was chalk full of transgenics. Theres barely a soul here. Max goes quiet. Her whole body as still as hes ever seen it. Transgenics. Yeah, Logan says. The Manticore escapees. Twelve of you in 09 and the whole damn facility eleven years after that. That didnt happen here, Max says and shes guarded now. Far as I know Im the only transgenic out and thats thanks to you. Thought these transgenics were supposed to be stronger than your average guy, Dean says. Dont seem like the types to stop fighting. But Logan sees where this ends already. It hurts more than he expected. He remembers Jace and Zach and Ben and Gem and Tinga and above all Alec. He squeezes his eyes shut. Dean, you take a Manticore soldier with superior strength and speed who also happens to be used to taking orders and then add Hell busting loose and demons going everywhere. What the hell do you think is going to happen? Max is staring at him with a far off gleam in her eyes. Where you come from, its not like that? You said there were transgenics in Terminal City. A whole city of them, Logan confirms. Theyve taken to calling it freak nation. I kind of like that. Thats beautiful, Dean snaps. Really it is, Im honored to be a part of this but Im a little more interested in what the hell happened to me and Sammy and why Hell seems to have won this war.

Everyone knows this story, Max says. Back in 09 there was some sort of electronic signal that wiped all the electronics in the country clean. President blamed terrorists. And things went to Hell for about a year. Looting, crime going bezerk. These weird cases of extreme violence no one could explain. There was no internet to connect people so it just sort of stayed like that. Isolated incidents that no one could piece together. But in 2011, the Winchester brothers died and the whole world went to hell. See, story says the Winchesters were trying to stop the apocalypse and ended up bringing it instead. Way my Logan told it to me, Dean Winchester was supposed to be the only one who could stop it. You know kill the Devil or whatever and bring us back into the golden age. Im not quite buying it. No, Dean says faintly. That sounds about right to me. Max swallows. All right then. Good to meet you Dean. Thats it? Really, after an hour of you poking and prodding at me with holy water iron and whatever the hell you could find, this is what gets you to believe us. Maybe Im an optimist. I dont follow, Logan says. A sly grin crosses Maxs features. If Dean Winchester is alive and is supposedly the only person on this planet who can kill the Devil, it sounds like weve got a second chance at winning this thing. ***

Theres already a plan in place. Logan doesnt particularly like the notion considering until an hour ago, Max seemed to think this plan was suicide. And to Logans eyes, it still looks a hell of a lot like suicide by demons. Like going down fighting and taking as much of the enemy down with you. Hes still got a desk here thought the equipment set up on it is highly different. The bare bones needed for an audio-only broadcast. Theres also a homemade scrambler and a stack of journals. He has Dean go through them with him while Max slowly and methodically cleans guns. Logan hates watching her with the guns. Knows that the Max of his universe (not his Max, but the Max he knows) abhors guns and wont touch them even if it means saving her life. This Max has an array of them. Has some with silver bullets, some packet with rock salt, some iron rounds. It chills him to the bone. This is insane, Dean says for the twentieth time in the past hour. Like really, really suicidally insane. I didnt think youd have it in you. Not even crazy post-apocalyptic you. Yeah, Logan says in a measured tone. The sad thing is, he knows this is in him. It is the same sort of insanity that had overtaken him the summer after he though Max had died. Theres a kind of brilliance to it though. Take out as many as you can. Leave no survivors.

The demons are going to rip you both to shreds. Dean observes. If thats what it takes, thats what it takes. Were looking to get you a shot at Lucifer. We should be looking for a shot to get me home. Not going along with suicidal alterna-you and crazy stabbing lady. There is a transcript of the planned Eyes Only broadcast in his hands. Logan skims it over, half amused, half terrified by the changes to his mission. If Max is right and the two of us are big targets in this reality, you can bet all of the big players are going to show up. Probably including whatever fallen angel that dragged you here in the first place. Probably also including the Devil. Logan returns his eyes to the page and doesnt reply. Because he remembers some of the details to whats been written in his counterparts sloppy hand. Which means that whatever Castiel had done was starting to wear off. They are going to have to use this plan, as crazy and suicidal as it seems. There is no other option. They are running out of time. ***

Hours later, Logan is sitting against the wall of the makeshift shelter as Max slowly and gently changes his bandages. Dean is already asleep, snoring lightly with a book open on his chest. Im really sorry about this, Max says. Im usually pretty good about now stabbing my only ally. Dont worry about it, Logan mutters. It doesnt put him on his death bed which already means it was better contact than the Max of his universe. Ive had worse. As he says that, the gauze catches just a little on the wall behind him and he flinches in pain. Max smiles just a little smugly. How did we meet here? Logan asks slowly. Got to admit Im a little curious. Four years ago, Max says. I was possessed. You did an exorcism. I wanted to fight so we started kicking ass together. Sounds like we make a pretty good team. Honestly, Max replies, I just think you were glad you werent on your own anymore. I know I was. She smiles at him, just a little shyly. So, a girls got to ask. Whats your Max like? Logan winces as the bandage comes off completely. The wound hasnt begun to scab over yet, but it isnt bleeding anymore. This body is more equipped with handling pain than he is used to which worries him considering in the past few years hes dealt with quite a bit of pain. Shes untouchable, Logan says finally, smiling at his own private joke. Strongest person I know.

And I guess its the same as here. You and Max leading an army of transgenics out of oppression. Fighting the good fight and all that. She has begun slowly wrapping fresh gauze around the wound. He cant bring himself to look at her. Max doesnt need me. Max hesitates just for a second, a hitch in the way shes wrapping his gauze like hes just broken her world view and he knows in that second that hes never going to have this. Never going to have Max the way this universes Logan seems to have her. Hes never going to be on the same page as her. Never going to be anything but a friend to her. And hes all right with that. He looks over to the Max in front of him and tries to smile at her. Its all right. I dont need her either. ***

The girl is waiting for him in his dream. Taunting him, throwing up images of 2009 and his 2022 and this 2022 and the past of this universe until he isnt sure what is real anymore. Pick one, the girl says. Or lose them all. Then suddenly, without warning, there is another presence behind him and he feels a blind terror as it says, You have the most singularly disquieting dreams. Logan turns around to face the disheveled figure in a trench coat and a tie, dripping blood from his mouth. Youre in my head, Logan says. Get the hell out. Ive got a enough mess of my own without anyone else in here to mess with it. This is by far the best way to converse. So dreamwalk Dean. My head is my head. To dreamwalk, as you say, with Dean would be counterproductive to my current purposes. The demon that caused your predicament has been identified and eliminated. Fantastic, Logan says. Does this mean everything will be back to normal when I wake up or is there some way I can say goodbye to Dean first. It is not quite so simple, Castiel intoned. The effects of this are difficult to unwind by conventional means. So use unconventional means, Logan snaps. I cannot at the time, Castiel says. I find that I am injured. I barely possess the required power to maintain this conversation. Since killing the demon didnt work, there is only one other feasible option for reversing this temporal anomaly. Why arent you telling Dean this instead of me? Because I know Dean Winchester and there are certain things he would not consider. I dont like where this is going.

Nor do I. Castiel sighs heavily. But I do not see any other present option. The spell preformed to bring Dean here was a blood spell and thus the only way to undo it is with another blood letting. Not that Im advocating it or anything, but in a world like this, it shouldnt be too hard to find some blood. I am afraid that most of the available blood is... insufficient. It would require the blood of someone who had experienced a shift in time themselves. Cold realization washes over him. So it can only be me or Dean. It cannot be Dean, Castiel replies. In Dean Winchester lies the only chance of defeating Lucifer and returning his forces back to Hell. Logan, if this is to succeed, it will require your blood. Logan cant breathe. How much? Castiel fixes him with a mournful gaze. I fear it will cost more than you can spare.

Chapter 6
He wakes up in a cold sweat. Max is already awake and stockpiling all available weapons. Dean is giving instructions in the authoritative voice tinged with panic. There are devils traps all over the floor. Whats going on? Logan asks. His head hurts and Castiels voice rings in his ears. I fear it will cost more than you can spare. But what is the alternative? He cant stay here. This world is even more broken than the one he knows and his need to fix it has out voiced his need to survive for years. Cas paid me a visit last night, Dean says. We have to move today if were going to have half a chance at this. You talked to Castiel? Yeah, he did the brainwalk thing while I was sleeping.. If we dont fix this in the next day or so, were going to be stuck here. I dont know about you guys, Max adds. But Ill take pretty much any world over this one. You think you could make the broadcast, Logan? Broadcast? You dont need to do much. Before all this happened you already made the transcript. That was the plan. It had been in motion for months. Hed contacted ever known band of hunters so they had time to set up their parts, so they had time to organize the mass exorcisms that with luck could turn the tide of this battle. Eyes Only would make the broadcast to signal the movement and they would do it with the location scrambler off. Max and Logan are big enough game to draw a lot of attention. They are the last vestiges of the resistance in the Pacific Northwest. Eyes Only is the one reliable means of disseminating information. Even if the demons knew it was a trap, this was something they wouldnt resist. It is a good plan. It will probably get them all killed, but it is a good plan. Only he shouldnt know any of the details. Logan! Dean calls. Sooner would be better. I remember this, Logan says quietly. Weve been planning this for months. Dean catches him by the shoulders, holding him fast. Logan, I need you to focus. Cas says this thing is going to be there. We need to ice it before you go native on us. Im not sure I could get out of here on my own. This is Dean Winchester. This is his friend. He met him in 2009 and now its 2022 and hes in Alecs body. This should be post-Pulse Seattle, not post-apocalypse Seattle. These are the facts. Right, he says, standing up and walking toward the small broadcast set-up. Lets get you back. Lets get the both of us back, Dean replies with a grin.

Logan doesnt answer, just shuffles through the papers on the desk until he comes up with the broadcast. The opening mantra is nearly identical to the one hed devised years ago in the real world. He fumbles for the broadcast set-up. Its far lower tech than what he is used to but he recognizes it from a broadcast journalism class hed taken at Yale before the Pulse. Want to know a secret? Deans form asks him from the depths of a memory that shouldnt be his. Im not Dean Winchester. Which means weve still got an ace up our sleeves. He shakes his head, clears his throat and flashes a smile at Max. He cant bring himself to look at Dean. Lets do this, Max says. Logan turns off the signal scrambler and starts the broadcast. This is a streaming freedom bulletin via the Eyes Only connection. This messages cannot be traced, cannot be stopped and it is the only free voice operating in this sector. Over the past ten years humanity has live in fear. Fear of the demons. Fear of our neighbors. Tonight it ends. You know what to do. Stay strong in the struggle. Logan takes a deep breath. He forgoes his customary farewell. In this time and place Peace. Out is an almost laughable sentiment. This is Eyes Only. Signing off. How long before they find us? Dean asks. An hour, Max answers. Probably less. ***

It takes forty minutes for the demons to find them and even then they arent ready. Logan is in a daze, half lost in a memory that shouldnt be his but is. Max has half an arsenal strapped to her chest and a knife that kills demons in her hands. Dean has painted devils trap in front of every door and salted all the windows. They should be safe. But the demons dont come through the doors and they dont come through the windows. They smash straight through the wall. Logan falls backward in the shock of it. The knife wound in his shoulder screaming its displeasure. Max is moving swiftly through the debris, welding the blade with the smooth fluidity native to Manticore soldiers. Dean is hiding in an almost invisible trench near the wall, pumping iron rounds into them one after another. Logan has six flasks of holy water on his body. His body remembers how this works even though he doesnt and he is surrounded by three demons hissing in pain before he even computes his own movement. As far as fights go, it is not hopeless. He can hear Deans voice ringing out the exorcism ritual loud and clear and Max still has the dagger in her hands as she slices her way back toward him. The fighting slows down, as if the demons are parting ways to make room for something. Logan doesnt know whats happening at first. There is a mana demon wearing a man at least standing in the hole that had blown through the wall. The vessel is ordinary. Twenty-years old. Tall. Strong. Handsome. Radiating a sort of terrible beauty Logan has never seen before.

He doesnt know who it is until the atmosphere shifts and it is impossible not to know who it is. Dean! The blade dances forward to bite the neck of a demon and then Max sends it sailing through the air in the direction of Dean, a picture perfect pass. Until it changes directions in midair and settles with a solid thwack into the Devils hands. Maxs eyes widen. Dean swears. Curious, the Devil says, I would have expect better from such a troublesome foe. Logan recognizes what is about to happen. Can see it even as the Devil reaches back his hand. Dean! he calls. Logan gets to Dean just a second before the knife does. He feels his body hitch with the impact. His stomach is on fire. He turns around slowly and coughs blood in Dean Winchesters face. Run. The world swims in front of him and he falls to his knees. ***

Hes never been in this much pain before. He finds himself strung up by meat hooks. One in his shoulder. One on his palm. One through each calf. He is still alive and it is still the wrong 2022 but Dean Winchester is still out there and Max is still out there. So there is still hope for the world. Mr. Cale, I see you are awake. The voice is pleasant enough, almost cordial but Logan knows even when he hear it. He can feel this deep in his bones. Screw you, Logan mutters. Such defiance. He cant quite make out the mans form. The world is blurred past recognition he is thankful for this. But then again I would expect no less from Logan Cale, the great Eyes Only. Its funny to think a man such as yourself could elude me for going on ten years. The blur moves and the left side of his abdomen explodes into pain. You know I always forget just how frail humans can be. I was hoping you would be stronger yourself. Im not telling you anything, Logan hisses. I would not expect you to. And it would seem that your tattoo prevents me from allowing my followers the use of your meat suit. Which means I have no real use of you at all. I just wanted to let you know, your friend Max, the hunters youve mobilized, they will all be dead well before morning. He sighs heavily. I find it almost a shame for us to leave like this. You, Logan Cale, were very nearly a worthy adversary. There is a thud around his midsection and if he looked down, he knows he would see the hilt of a

sword buried in his chest, just left of his heart. This is a fatal wound. He knows it with uttermost certainty. His blood dripping slowly and surely onto the ground and suddenly, something in his head breaks and there are memories invading his vision tumbling on over the other in a mad melody of what was and what could have been. He is twenty years old and over thirty watching himself from the distance wondering if hes gone completely insane a blond haired woman tells him. This is all completely and utterly impossibly ,he wakes up and its 2019 again and his legs dont work and its all just a tangle of flesh and blood and he doesnt think hes ever needed to get out of here as badly as he needs to get out of here right now. Another twenty seconds and hes a good as dead to the world. Dean Winchester is dead but its not really Dean Winchester is it dude, what year is it Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas Ill make sure you cant have the world either fear it will cost you more than this is a streaming freedom--There is black seeping into the corner of his eyes and his blood makes tiny plopping sounds as it hits the floor. How much has he lost? How much can he afford to lose? Someones screaming and the sound is so raw, it feels like his throat is tearing. He cant think anymore. He wishes he could have-----He wakes up to the television blaring news about an explosion in sector four. He doesnt see Dean. Doesnt see Max. Doesnt see the demon. If he is dead, then dead looks a hell of a lot like the world he has lived in his whole life. There is a sudden rap on the door and a sandy-haired X-6 peaks his head inside. Mr. Logan? We need you in the med bay. Mr. Alecs been asking about you. Alec? Logan says, his throat suddenly dry. He was in an explosion, the kid says. He woke up but he keeps saying he needs to make sure you were all right. Why? He was the one in the explosion. I dont know, Mr. Logan. Lets go then. He tries to stand up but cant because his legs dont work. His ankle is broken and the transfusions lingering effects are gone. He pushes the wheelchair deftly out the door. The hall to the infirmary is longer than he remembers but the faces are familiar. The conversations are familiar. This is how it should be. He can hear Alec before he sees him. Im fine. Wheres Logan? Is he all right? Someones got to check in on him. Alec, Logan says. Long time, no see. Are you crazy? Max asks. Try one day, no see. Logan! Alec pushes himself to his feet. Man, am I ever glad to see you. There is something subtly different about his speech patterns. Something that rang of the

Winchester brothers. Me and Sam figured it out, Alec says. The only way to switch us back was with the blood and it was damn clear I couldnt do it because if it killed me, it killed Dean and the world was damned... I though I was going to wake up with you dead. I didnt think I was going to wake up, Logan admits. Alecs eyes go dark and for a second, Logan flashes onto the obituray hed found. Sam and Dean Winchester dead in 2011. I didnt think I was waking up either. It really happened then? Either it happened or I am one seriously screwed up genetic freak. Understatement of the century, Max mutters, crossing her arms. You have any idea what happened to the Winchesters? Alec asks. His face is wrought with worry and Logan knows in that second that was gone for a lot longer than he was. If things are back to normal, they should be all right. But you dont know? Dean can more than take care of himself, Logan says. And you can bet he can take care of his brother as well. Alec doesnt say anything for a good long while. In fact, Logans about ready to turn to leave. Max keeps giving him a look like he needs to explain but this thing that has happened to him is not hers, will never be hers and she will never understand. Its all right though. Hes not sure hed want her to understand. Im glad youre all right, Logan, Alec says finally. Good to be home, Logan whispers. ***

Four hours later, Logan and Alec are hold up in Logans room drinking the same bottle of homemade brew, Logan had shared with Dean only days before. Logan is at the tail end of his story. The one than began three years ago and thirteen years ago both at the same time. It is a story he has told no one except Dean Winchester and the weight off his chest makes him feel lighter than he has in years. There is a knock on the door that interrupts their conversation and Logan slightly drunk and slightly melancholy mutters, Probably Max. Come on in, Maxie! Alec calls. Got a couple of shots with your name on it. The door cracks open but its not Max who enters. Its a pair of men, forty years old with graying hair and more than a few scars. Logan feels his face twisting into a real, genuine smile.

Hey there, Logan, Dean Winchester says. Been a while.

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