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

Rating: Not RatedArchive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive WarningsCategory: GenFandom: Dark Angel, SupernaturalCharacter: Dean Winchester, Logan Cale, Alec McDowell | X5-494, Max

Guevara | X5-452, Logan Cale | Eyes Only, Castiel (Supernatural)Series: Part 2 of WorldsStats: 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 he’s dreaming.

Knows he has to be dreaming because this was all over years ago.

He hasn’t had a dream about the blonde girl with the red dress since he woke up in the hospitalminus functioning legs and he doesn’t have any reason for starting now. Except the girl in red iscreeping toward him with a smirk on her face. Except he is seeing white eyes and rememberingwhite 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 won’t be going back tosleep anytime soon.

He hasn’t heard from Dean Winchester in two months.

He doesn’t know why he’s so worried. It’s not like Dean calls him with any regularity. It’s apostcard about once a month and Logan leaving a message in the Winchester drop box wheneverEyes Only finds anything paranormal instead of just criminal. But Dean always sent somethingafter he’d finished a job Logan had tipped him on. It would come in two weeks later, dated at thetop with a few chatty lines about him and his brother that don’t say a thing about monsters but aremore a way of saying I’m here. I’m alive. The postcards are never signed but the handwriting wasfamiliar and it makes Logan feel better to know Dean is out there.

But he hasn’t heard from Dean in two months. Which is weird because the last he heard, theWinchester brothers were making their way up the west coast. Logan had left a message about arash of poltergeists almost five weeks ago and he’d been expecting Dean to show up on hisdoorstep, 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 hadn’t dreamed it all.

He hasn’t seen Dean since he woke up in the hospital. Hasn’t seen Dean since 2009 and now it’s2022 and staring at the transgenic called Alec he keeps feeling that pang for the man who kepthim alive in the aftermath of the shooting.

Yesterday, he strapped on the exoskeleton, loaded his gun with homemade salt rounds and tookcare of the problem. He broke the exo, broke his ankle and found himself back in the wheelchairas the last of the transgenic blood was starting to wear out.

He knows he’s not going to stand back up.

And maybe that’s why he’s thinking of Dean Winchester right now. Maybe that’s why he’sscrounging through his old files looking for every scrap of paper the man has sent him over thepast two and a half years. Maybe that’s why he’s freaking out over missing his stack of post cardseven though they were probably part of the mess that had been lost in his penthouse last year.

He isn’t panicking. He just leaves another message on the Winchester’s answering machine, sortsthrough the normal jumble of Terminal City muck, does a half hour research on Eyes Only’snewest project and goes back to sleep thinking of how numb his broken ankle feels and howthings 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 pushinghimself 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 he’d learned to adjust in 2009 where he’d wokenup to ride shotgun to a demon hunting Dean Winchester. Just like he’d learned to adjust againwhen 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 inevitablelike 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. Hewants to think he used to move that fast in his youth, or maybe he moved that fast in the few shortmonths where he hunted ghost and demons with Dean Winchester but sitting right now, staring upat the world from his permanent vantage point, he can’t imagine it.

“What happened to you?” Max asks. “Been a while since you went with the wheels.”

Poltergeist problem but she doesn’t need to know that. The government has made it their businessto remove the transgenic problem. White is making his push. The whole thing was a mess and hestill can’t 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, liketheir 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 atthe man’s physical similarity to Dean but after a few roadblocks along the ways, it had progressedinto the first friendship Logan had made in years.

Still, he knows most people would never have gotten over their first impression of a double-crossing Manticore agent sent to assassinate his alter ego. He wouldn’t have given Alec a secondglance if it wasn’t for Dean.

“No,” Max says. “But he’s got a shift at Jam Pony. Shouldn’t be too hard to track down if youneed him.”

Logan doesn’t need to track him down so he doesn’t say anything else. Max is standing next tohim, far enough away so that to reach out and touch her would be impossible. They have learnedthis dance well, anything else would result in his death, but he misses the old days, long nightsbent close together over a computer screen or in a car on a stakeout. He doesn’t even long for akiss. He hadn’t known enough of that to miss it. All he wants is a friendly pat on the shoulder thatwon’t get him killed.

It’s too dangerous now and Logan understands but he wonders what will happen if the virus isever cured. He half suspects that after two years, the habits are too ingrained to ever change.

“I’ve got some research I could be doing,” Logan says.

“And I’ve got to get back to the mission.”

He wonders when she stopped being his best friend.

He loses himself in the research. He’s 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 innightmares now so it’s 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 andanother through the newspapers for events of paranormal nature.

He has come the to the unavoidable conclusion that his life is incredibly strange.

But he’s adjusted. If he has to split his time between transgenics and Eyes Only and hunters, thenthat’s what he’ll do.

There is a definite nest of vampires in Idaho, a businessman repackaging drugs in Seattle and thecult planning an apocalypse. He elects to focus on the cult. He is getting nowhere and suspectsthat he will be get nowhere until they actually start to make their move. This is not a scenario helikes.

He calls a hunter from his slowly mounting list of paranormal friendly contacts so he can feel likehe accomplished something.

At three PM everything goes to hell, but it’s not Terminal City unless there is at least one majorcrisis. He just hopes no one wound up in a zoo this time. He considers for a brief moment goingoutside to confront the problem and is even to the point of pushing himself to his feet when heremembers the broken ankle and the lack of supercharged blood and he sinks back, selfishlywanting 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 toexplosions these days but they still make Logan’s heart leap up in his chest. Nine to one this wasaimed at the transgenic and the flood of people outside were transgenics ushering one another intotheir infirmary. Logan doesn’t have the medical expertise to help this so he sits and watches withmounting horror wondering if Eyes Only could say anything to make this kind of violence stop.

He doesn’t know how long he sat watching but he is snapped from his trance by a rap on thedoor. One of the younger X-6’s poked their head through. Logan is ashamed to say he doesn’tknow the boy’s name. “Mr. Logan? We need you in the med bay.”

“I don’t know if there’s anything I can do,” Logan says tiredly.

“It’s Alec, Mr. Logan,” the boy says. “He was unconscious when they brought him in.”

There’s a lurching panic in Logan’s chest. “Is he all right?”

The kid shakes his head vehemently. “He woke up, Mr. Logan but there’s something wrong. Youshould come. Max thinks maybe you can help.”

He doesn’t know how. He hasn’t felt like he could help for years now but he’s Logan Cale sohe’s going to try. “Let’s go,” he says, wheeling himself out the door toward what the transgenicshave 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, lookyou’re hurt and you’re confused but you need to calm down.”

And then a different voice—one Logan isn’t used to hearing speak with quite this level ofintensity—says, “Are you all out of your freaking mind? Who the hell is Alec? Who the hell areyou? Where the hell am I? Where’s—“

Logan pushes the door open and for a moment, all eyes swivel toward him. Alec blinks like it’sthe first time he’s seen him in years and chokes, “Logan?”

Logan’s eyes widen. There are a million things off with this Alec. It’s something about the way hecarries himself, the slight slouch rather than the military straight posture. It’s something about thepanic in the eyes of someone trained to keep those ticks under wraps. It was in the inflection of thevoice and the pattern of words. Piled up together it screamed that this man in front of him was notAlec.

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. “Where’smy brother?”

“Brother?” Max repeats. “Alec, this isn’t funny.”

“My name’s not Alec,” Dean growls in her direction. “Logan, where’s Sam? Is he all right? Therewas an explosion. There was a---“ He hesitates and suddenly the mask is back in place. “Therewas 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 therewas an explosion and Sammy was shouting and then I was here...” He looks around as if trulynoticing his surroundings. “I’m here and you’re here and you definitely know who I am.” Hesqueezes his eyes shut. “Dude, what year is it?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Max groans.

“It’s 2022,” Logan says.

Dean sinks back against the hospital bed, looking momentarily skyward. “Of course it is.” Helevels his gaze. “So is this body me of the future or am I borrowing some poor bastard’s meatsuit.”

“His name is Alec,” Logan says.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mumbles.

“Tell me about it.”

“Logan,” Max’s voice cut through the air, the intangible equivalent of grabbing him by the armand 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.”

“I’m pretty freaking far from all right, but yeah, I’m good for a minute.”

Outside, Max is forced to lower her voice. There were a multitude of other transgenics around, allof them with enhanced hearing, all of them more than willing to eavesdrop if voices were raisedbecause as Logan has found out, transgenics were more gossipy than teenage girls. “Logan,you’re going to tell me what’s going on.”

It’s an order. Logan blinks. He remembers briefly how the two of them used to be a team.

He does not enjoy taking orders.

“That’s not Alec,” he says simply.

“Of course it’s 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 DeanWinchester instead of faking a personality transplant in order to pull some prank. How the hell doyou know him?”

Logan draws himself in. This is not something he has discussed with Max. In reality, this is notsomething he has discussed with anyone. It was too important. Too fantastic. “I met him beforethe 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 thepoint of taking them back. This is where they were now, lashing out because they could reach out.He squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t really care if you believe me or not. I’m going to go talk toDean.”

He leaves Max standing there in the chaos of Terminal City and turns back to Dean, shutting thedoor behind him. It is disconcerting to watch. Dean is a mass of jitters while Alec had been thepicture of tranquility no matter the situation. “Been a while, huh, Logan,” Dean says. “Haven’theard 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. Wefound you—past you that is. Couldn’t believe you where the same guy.” He lets out a harsh snortof 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 it’s nothing like the uncomfortable silences he tends to share with Max.It’s something different, the two of them already easing back to their easy comrodery from theirbizarre 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 youngerand let me tell you it’s annoying as hell to wake up and suddenly be yeti-sized but it’s never donethe swap through time before.”

“How’d you fix it before?”

“Depended on what did it. Spells usually reset on their own. If it’s a demon, you gank it andyou’re fine. Curses always have some hidden catch you have to trip. This time me and Sam wereafter a demon and something jumped us. There was a flash of light and then I woke up here. Noidea which one it could have been.”

Logan settles back into the his wheelchair, settles in for the long haul. “And what happens toAlec?”

“The poor bastard who’s body I’m wearing?” He shrugs and Logan can see just how much theidea bothers him. “Back in 2009 with Sammy if I had to guess. Probably having the sameconversation we’re having now. He inherited more than a few problems.”

“He’s not the only one.”

Dean shoots him a look. “The Devil just busted out of hell.”

“That’s a very big problem.”

“Obviously we did something to stop it,” Dean says. “Because while this place looks like shit itdoesn’t exactly look like hell.”

“You’re in Terminal City. Alec was in an explosion. He was brought back here for medicaltreatment.”

“Guess I should be glad Alec shares my aversion to hospitals, huh?” Dean swings his arms backand forth and flexes his fingers. “Everything seems to be in working order though. I feel betterthan I have in years. Click in the shoulder’s gone. Ribs don’t hurt. I can’t remember the last time Ididn’t feel like I’d just been run over by a truck.”

Logan laughs because he doesn’t know what else to do. Doesn’t know how else to explain Alecand Manticore, cloning and genetic engineering. They are from different worlds with differentproblems and different people. They have coexisted before and they will make it work again butthey don’t 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 Logan’s room with a dozen books spread across all available surfaces.Logan’s head hurts. There are demons of every sort, the seven deadly sins but nothing the canreach through time and swap two men who look identical but aren’t.

“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 Sam’s gig.”

“I’m used to research,” Logan says, turning a page. “If there’s a way to get you back we’ll findit.”

Dean leans back in his chair, pointedly ignoring the heaps of research. “So you got shot, huh?”

The question comes abruptly but it’s not said with malice. It’s 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 shootingsomeone had gotten it. Everyone else sees the chair before the person, focusing on the disabilitylike it was something that defined him rather than something that just happened to him. “Yeah,” hesays, just a little hoarsely. “Yeah, it really did.”

“All right.” Dean claps his hands together. “Awkward acknowledgement over. There’s only onething outside of my little brother that I know can yank some poor sap out of his time and dump inanother and that’s an angel.”

“An angel?”

“Don’t get your hopes too high, future boy. Every angel I’ve ever met has been a dick. Let’s get amove on, there’s some stuff I need to pick up if we’re going to do this.”

“What are we doing?”

“We’re summoning Castiel.”

“Castiel? We’re summoning an angel? Are you out of your mind? Do you know what sort ofpeople hang out here?”

“Believe me, I’m 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 you’ve met are dicks.”

Dean flashes him a smile. The kind of smile Logan has come to associate with 2009 and theWinchesters and the mess that had come with it. It was resignation and fearlessness tinged withdesperation. Fighting blind and way over his head but still fighting. “Hey,” he says lightly. “Whosays you can’t be friends with dicks? You’re friends with me.”

Logan shakes his head. “Guess you’re right. Let’s go summon an angel.”

***

Moving through Terminal City, Dean is a man on a wire. He keeps flinching every time he sees anomilie and Logan hates himself for not stopping to explain before this all. “Nothing to worryabout,” he says when Dean shoots yet another panicked look in his direction. “I’ll 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. “There’s a pack of cigars in it for you.”

“That’s what I call a deal, Cale. Room’s yours.”

“This place is really freaking weird,” Dean hisses to Logan. Three passing X-6s hear him.

It’s a relief when the get to room 20-12 and close the door behind them. It is a large room withthick walls and doors that lock from the inside, a room that typically functions as a panic room, aroom 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 campfor 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 thanperfect. Anyway, about two years ago, the facility was destroyed leaving the soldiers to scatter.”

“This is insane. You know this is insane, right?”

“You’re about to summon an angel to help you get back to the past.”

“Yeah, well at least I’m not friends with the creature from the black lagoon. You got any tentaclesI should be aware of?”

“I’m human as the come, Dean. But you might want to get over some of these prejudices of yoursbecause the guy who’s body you’re wearing is very much a transgenic.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean hisses. “Please don’t tell me I look like I’m half bat. I need to get out ofhere. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“What do we need to do the summoning?” Logan asks, moving toward the emergency supplies. “Ithink we’ve got more or—“

“Cas!” Dean howls, throwing his head back. “You son of a bitch. We had this talk, you’resupposed 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 you’re up there. Why don’t you get your lily white ass down here and tellus what the hell is going on.”

Then out of nowhere, there is a sound of something like fluttering wings and when Logan turnsaround there’s a man standing behind him. A man in a trench coat with a white shirt and a loosetie. He has dark hair, light eyes and a five-o’clock shadow.

“Cas, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Dean says. “How about getting me out of this time and backwhere I belong.”

“I’m afraid things are not as simple as they seem.”

Dean leans back against the wall. “Of course they aren’t. Cas, come on, angels are the only bunchI 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 tomanipulate 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 heyto future boy. Fine. I’m cool with that. But why? In what possible universe is this a good idea foranyone involved?”

“It is a commonly known fact in both heaven and hell that Dean Winchester is the only onecapable of stopping Lucifer’s rise. Hell has simply used the opportunity to remove you from theequation.”

“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. Butif this situation is not remedied I fear all will be lost.”

“What happened to Alec?” Logan cuts in sharply. “He didn’t just disappear, right?”

“The one called Alec now occupies the space that was once Dean’s.”

“So the have animal freak show has my body now. Super. How about Sam. Is he all right?”

Castiel’s fixes Dean with a stony glare. “At the point of the timeline’s interruption he is in goodhealth but already the changes from this abomination’s plot are trickling through to this present. Iwill 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. “I’m 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, fistsclenched in fury. Dean stares at her, eyes open. “Green guy is so losing his cigars.”

“Where’s Alec?” Max demands, moving too fast for Logan to see. In a split second, she has Deanpinned to the wall by the neck.

Logan’s first instinct is to reach out and touch her. To pull her away from his friend before she cankill him but he notes her bare forearms and his own ungloved palms. “What the hell are youdoing, Max?”

“I talked to psy-ops and they can’t tell me much but they can tell me that Alec’s gone and thisthing 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 White’s men?” Max presses. “Another clone?”

Logan can see Dean’s lips trying to form his name. No sound comes out.

“You’re killing him!”

“Tell me who you are!”

“Kill him and Alec’s gone too.”

Max’s head snaps to Logan and Dean uses the distraction to break Max’s hold on him. Hecollapses to the floor gasping for air as he hisses, “Christo! Christo, you crazy bitch.”

Nothing happens. There is no flash of black in Max’s eyes. Dean scrambles to his feet in a kind offury that looks so unlike Alec Logan doesn’t know how anyone could confuse the two. “Calmdown, Dean,” Logan snaps. “Everything’s fine here.”

Max alternates her gaze between Logan and Dean, confused with the former, incredibly wary ofthe 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 himalone but make sure there’s no attempt to leave.”

“He doesn’t need a babysitter,” Logan snaps.

“Shut the door behind you,” Max orders.

The door slamming sounds impossibly loud even to Logan’s normal, human ears and he imaginesbriefly that he can feel the reverberations snaking up through his broken ankle. “Max, what’sgoing on?”

“What’s going on?” Max repeats. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“You can start with why this is all suddenly directed at me. In case you haven’t forgot, I’m onyour side here.”

Max’s eyes are icy when they finally connect with his own. Not a single ounce of their usualaffection. “Tell me what’s going on with Alec.”

“We’ve already had this conversation, Max,” Logan says, exasperated. She is standing too closefor his taste. Inches between flesh rather than feet. He would retreat if he didn’t think she wouldtake it as a sign of weakness. It’s been a long time since they were this careless. “Remember? Thismorning. That’s Dean Winchester and I need you to trust me.”

“Trust you?” Max’s voice is filled with the kind of venom usually reserved for Alec at his mostannoying. It hasn’t been directed at him in almost three years. “Why the hell should I trust you?Alec’s the only chance we had at infiltration and then yesterday, about three hours after we let youin on this little piece, Alec drops us the sign for extraction. When we get there, the place is on fireand the guy we pull out isn’t Alec. Which means he must be cult.” She meets his eyes. “Whichmeans you must be cult.”

Logan is genuinely speechless.

“Tell me something, Logan,” Max pleads. “I don’t want to believe it but you’re not really doing ahell of a lot to defend yourself.”

“I didn’t even know Alec was on an infiltration.” Logan presses a hand to his temple. “I thoughthe was at Jam Pony this morning. I swear.”

Max’s face softens just a little and she makes a move toward him. Logan immediately moves thewheelchair in reverse to maintain the distance. It’s a habit now, ingrained just as much as brushinghis teeth before bed. There must always be at least six inches between Max’s largest reach andskin contact with Logan.

Always.

But Max is looking at him strangely. Looking at him like she doesn’t understand this distance.“What the hell is wrong with you, Logan?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Logan says. He feels like he is back in 2009, sitting next to DeanWinchester, bluffing his way through a life that isn’t his. “I didn’t sell you out and Dean isn’t cult.I promise.”

“I want to believe you.”

“So believe me.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Fine.” Logan squeezes his eyes shut. “Then give me a day. Twenty-four hours. I need to figure itout 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. We’ll be watching. If

you try to leave, the orders are to take you out. No chances.”

And she’d do it if she had to. She’d do it herself, put Logan Cale in her crosshairs and pull thetrigger, bam. He blinks and for a split second he’s lying in the street in 2019, staring up at thehoverdrone as that world blurred into 2009. But then he’s back in the present and Max is stillstaring at him. He smiles but it doesn’t feel right on his face. “Understood.”

***

Dean is sitting on his bed when Logan finally rolls himself to the room. He looks every bit asshaken 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 looksjust like me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Alec,” Dean says. “This guy who’s body I’m wearing. He could have been me ten years ago butit’s 2022 and every time I move it goes just a little too fast.” He stops, breathes. “Christ, I missSammy. He would have figured this all out already.”

“Manticore used DNA from any number of places.” Logan hesitates. “I have no idea how theyfound yours but they did.”

“This whole thing just skeeves me out.”

“At least you don’t 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 anythingabout what just happened seem really off to you?”

“You seriously think I can judge something like that right now?”

“There’s something off about Max,” Logan says.

Dean blinks as if clearing his vision. “That’s the psycho girl, right? Lady chokes-a-lot. Crazy bitchshe may be but damn can she fill out some jeans.”

Logan can recognize Dean’s autopilot. Knows he’s turned his brain off to deal while leaving hismouth to say whatever but he still can’t stop himself from saying, “She’s not a psycho. She’s moreor less responsible for assimilating a city full of mutant ex-soldiers into post-Pulse Seattle whilesimultaneously combating a centuries old breeding cult bend on world domination.”

Dean leers at him, a little more involved in the conversation now. “So you’re saying you tappedthat? Future boy, I’m proud of you. My little Logan’s growing up. Seems like only yesterday youwere sitting in my passenger’s seat, lying your ass off to me.”

A blush creeps up Logan’s neck. “Max and I have logistical issues.”

“If you need the talk,” Dean leers.

“If Max and I touch, I’m going to die. She was infected with a genetically altered retrovirusspecifically targeted to my DNA.”

Dean snorts. “Never mind. That kind of talk is not in my repertoire.”

Logan settles back. “She knows you’re not Alec and she thinks I’m kind of involved with this.They’ve got us under surveillance.”

“And here I was going to suggest joining forces to go kill a fallen angel.”

“They’re going to kill us if we set foot outside this room,” Logan says. “We’ve got to figure thisout.”

“Don’t you get it, future boy? There’s no figuring this out. It’s hard enough to find lore on thefreaking angels. Before last year me and Sammy didn’t even think they could exist. And that’sbefore we even start with fallen angels. Fallen angels are a whole different ball game. There aresome who wind up human, others who hang with the devil. The time-travel thing, I only knowabout that much because of experience. There’s nothing, nothing on it in the books. Me and Samlooked.”

And if they couldn’t find anything on it before the Pusle, Logan doesn’t know what they couldpossibly do about it now.

“So what’s future me up to?” Dean asks. “I get if you can’t give me information because of theprime directive or whatever but I gotta ask.”

“Prime directive?” Logan raises an eyebrow. “Never would have pegged you as a Star Trek kindof guy.”

“Shut up.”

“You sent me a letter and few post cards,” Logan says. “I’ve dropped you a few tips on cases. Setyou up with some ID cards a few times. Talked on the phone once or twice, but it’s hard to get ahandle on cell reception. Best I can tell you’re 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 Dean’sdirection. “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 forLogan. “I dunno about you but I think this needs some alcohol.”

Logan laughs. “Here here.”

***

Three hours later they’re both pleasantly drunk over a bottle of Alec’s super-strong home brew.They’re laughing at something but Logan can’t for the life of him remember what set them off. It’s

been a long time since he laughed this hard, a long time since he got drunk without gettingcompletely miserable. Dean starts pouring himself another glass.

“We’re pro’bly under surveillance ri’now,” Logan observes. “Wonder what they’re thinkin'.”

“They’re stupid,” Dean calls. “They can’t tell a shapeshifter from a bodyswaper and tha’sjust incompetent.”

They dissolve back into giggles. Dean tries to take a sip and nearly falls off his chair, putting ahand on the desk for support. A pile of Logan’s neatly ordered papers collapses to the floor. Thesame pile that should have housed the collection of Dean’s letters and postcards over the past threeyears but didn’t.

“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 fromhis eyes.

“Wassamatter?” Logan asks.

Dean sits back against the desk and hands the paper up to Logan.

It’s a short, five inch obituary. It takes Logan a few seconds to focus long enough to read it butonce 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 havejust said I was dead. It’s not like it would have been surprised.”

But this isn’t Right. It hadn’t been like this yesterday. Dean Winchester was alive in 2022, himand his brother on a swing up the west coast and anytime now, he was gong to stride into Logan’sroom, alive and fine just like he was in 2009.

“You’re 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 Castiel’s voice ringing in hisears. Already the changes from this abomination’s plot are trickling through to this present.

“We still remember how the right way went,” Logan says. He presses a hand to his forehead. Hecan already feel tomorrow’s 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

He’s dreaming again.

He knows he’s dreaming.

He has to be dreaming.

“If I can’t have you,” the girl in the red dress tells him. “I’ll make sure you can’t have the worldeither. It’s mine to play with. Mine to rule.”

Wake up, Logan tells himself, you need to wake up.

“You’re mine, too, Logan.” She starts moving toward him. Logan tries to back up but his legsdon’t work. “In the end, you’re going to do exactly what I tell you.”

She extends a hand toward his face and Logan finds he can’t move to stop her can’t do anythingbut 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 isDean. Without his glasses, the world is shrouded in a soft haze. “Dean,” Logan hisses. His head isspinning but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Dean doesn’t move.

It takes a few seconds of blind groping before Logan locates his glasses from the makeshiftnightstand, nearly knocking them over in his haste. The world crystallizes into sharp focus butthere’s nothing of the usual sunlight sinking in through the windows. It’s something different. Avague green tinge Logan has never seen before.

He can’t find his wheelchair. He doesn’t remember exactly how he got to his bed last night butknows it is illogical for his chair to be anywhere outside his reach. “Dean,” he calls, swinging hislegs 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 shouldn’t feel anything. He can’t even feelhis broken ankle the night before.

Because his ankle isn’t broken.

He rotates it slowly, first left, than right. The same sort of strengthening exercises they’d given himwhen 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. Searchingfor the scar from the bullet that had robbed his legs from him.

It’s not there. There is nothing but smooth skin. This is Logan Cale. Unbroken.

There is a thick scar off his left elbow that he doesn’t recognize. It looks like a knife wound buthe’s never been stabbed. Not there at least. There’s a tattoo over his left shoulder that he knowswasn’t his work. “Dean!” he says again, more urgently now.

He pushes himself up wobbling on unsteady legs like a newborn colt and stumbles toward thecouch where he can see Alec’s frame fast asleep.

As soon as he touches Dean, he shoots up with such force, Logan nearly loses his balance. Deanis in attack mode until he sees Logan and then he calms in fits and starts. “Hell,” he mutters.“Wasn’t looking forward to waking up to your face. I was hoping this would be over in themorning.”

“Something changed,” Logan says. He feels vague stirrings of vertigo that he wants to blame on ahangover but knows he can’t.

He had gotten used to life closer to the floor.

“You’re 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 haven’t even started on thinking yet.”

“You’re wearing Alec’s body and I know transgenics don’t get hangovers so get your acttogether. You’re 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 wasn’t hereyesterday.”

Dean’s face goes pale. “Why did you get that?”

“I don’t even know what the hell it is.”

“It’s a symbol used for keeping demonic possessions out. Not something the average personneeds. Hell, not even something the average hunter needs. Me and Sammy have some but that’s avery special case.”

“Something changed overnight,” Logan says.

His brain is lagging three steps behind his body. He is having problems making connections. Hefeels 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, something’s wrong with thesunlight.”

Logan has seen panic before. He has seen Max on the verge of capture. He has seen Zach fightingwithout memory in the face of his own betrayal. He has see Alec beaten and bruised and left fordead. 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 trueterror before. The color is gone from his face. His eyes are wide. His hands are shaking. He lookslike he’ll break if Logan touches him but he can’t help himself. Offering comfort is not somethinghe can do for Max anymore but he can do it for Dean. He lays a hand on his shoulder to steadyhim. “What is it, Dean?”

“Hell,” Dean says after a long moment and Logan cannot recall a more broken sound, likeshattering glass on the still air. “It’s Hell.” His voice is getting stronger, but the tension in his frameis far from gone. “This shouldn’t be here.”

“Hell?” Logan repeats. “The Pulse was one thing but--”

“This shouldn’t be here!” Dean snaps. “This didn’t happen. It wasn’t like this when I woke up.”

“Something changed,” Logan guesses. “Something changed when this thing swapped you forAlec. Because you weren’t there. Castiel said he was going to try and shield us from it. Soeverything around us is changing, but we’re staying the same.”

“We’ve got to get it back,” Dean mumbles. “We can’t let—this can’t happen.”

“You’re going to have to tell me what happened back in 2009,” Logan says. He is a problemsolver. He always has been but he cannot do this without the facts. “After I left. Sam told us to getbehind him and then there was light.”

“Sam killed Lilith,” Dean says listlessly. “He thought it was the Right Thing.” He laughs dryly. “Iwas rooting for it.”

Logan thinks of the girl in red who still haunts his dreams. “Can’t say I’m sorry to hear it.”

“The armies of hell were trying to break the sixty-six seals. Cas said they were like locks. Last onebreaks 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 he’s reciting the story. Like he’s on autopilot. Like he’salready resigned himself to Hell. “Told me the angels thought it was all part of a divine plan. Awar that would end with eternal paradise or damnation. He tried to stop it and they dropped himfrom their ranks. Blacked him out from angel radio. I don’t know much except the Devil’s out andI’m supposed to be the only one who can stop him.”

“That’s a hell of a lot to put on one guy’s 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 can’t 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 powerbut he isn’t used to it. No matter how strained their relationship was Max was a constant. Heneeds a constant right now. He’d leaned on Dean the first time, but this time it is Dean who needshis 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 Alec’s borrowed hearing, they must soundimpossibly loud. He’d been half afraid that their location had changed completely during the nightbut 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 weren’t this mademaze of burnt out shells in front of him. That was impossible.

Only it isn’t impossible. It’s right in front of him.

Dean is lagging a step behind him and Logan is half afraid that if he isn’t moving, Dean will stopthere forever, stuck in the memories of his own time in Hell.

So he starts moving toward Terminal City’s weapon’s room. It is illogical to think it will be in thesame places as the one he knows, even more so to think that it might actually be stocked withmunitions, but he has to do something,

It feels like his feet know the way even though his mind is still foggy with confusion. He dodgesthrough the wreckage at a pace just short of a run, stepping nimbly like his body has been doingthis his whole life even if his brain has not.

Almost miraculously, there is a room left untouched. Logan knows how to get through, knowshow to pick out the nearly hidden doors that open into a rather impressive munitions stalk. Loganstops as soon as he gets in side, almost in awe. He’s accumulated a modest arsenal against thesupernatural over the past three years but it was nothing like this. There were hex boxes andsawed off shot guns and an array of different charms strewn throughout.

“This looks like one of Dad’s 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?”

It’s Max. Max coming out from the darkness with too-short hair and sunken eyes. “Yeah,” Logansays. “It’s me.”

She looks at him hard for a moment, something unrecognizable in her eyes and then, moving withwhat Logan has mentally dubbed the superman blur she suddenly has her arms around him,hugging him tight, her face buried into his neck.

And it’s wrong. He can’t move to hug her back. He knows the virus in all likelihood does notexist in this alternate world, but still, he cannot shake the wrongness of her touch.

“I though they’d got you.” Max mutters. “I woke up and you were just gone.”

She makes a move like she’s going to kiss him, but Logan finds himself stiffening, flinching awayfrom it with the instinct borne of two year of non-contact. It’s not that the spark is gone, it’s thathe’s trained himself to ignore it out of self-preservation.

“Well,” Dean says, breaking the silence. “This is awkward.”

Max’s head snaps away from Logan, locking eyes on Dean with a singularly predatory look heonly 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 byan 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. Histechnique is miles ahead of Max who’d stopped her training at age nine.

But Dean is at a disadvantage. Max knows how to use her speed. With Alec’s borrowed body,Dean has that kind of speed but doesn’t realize it. All his movements that should have beenperfectly controlled swing just a little too wide, look just a little wild.

“Max, stop!” Logan calls.

She doesn’t stop. The blade swings back and slices through the fabric of Dean’s shirt. Hestumbles.

Logan has to force himself to touch her, has to mentally override all his instincts to avoid her skinas he reaches out to halt her arm before the blade can bite through Dean’s skin.

It is a bad idea. He knows it even before his skin makes contact. After all these years, he still hasnot learned his lesson. She wheels around almost on autopilot and plunges the knife into hisshoulder.

White hot pain seers across his body, shooting up his arm. It feels like getting shot somehow andwhen he blinks, just for a second he’s in 2009 again as Sam Winchester screams, Get behind me!

It’s Dean and not Max who catches Logan before he hits the floor. “I don’t think you’ve hitanything important,” Dean says but his words are warping badly and he closes his eyes again onlyto see the demon girl in the red dress.

“He’s not a demon,” Logan mumbles thickly. He blinks and he’s in that alley again. The alley in2009, stunned that he’s still alive.

The knife’s gone and there’s 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. There’s a roaring pain in his shoulder but it’s been ratherexpertly bandaged. He sits up slowly.

“Don’t you think you’re wasting holy water,” he hears Dean say. “Really I’ve passed all yourtests. Iron. Holy water. The Devil’s Trap. What the hell do you want to do, tie me down andperform an exorcism?”

“We’ve had your kind before,” Max says. “Infiltration. I don’t 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, don’t get mewrong, you’re 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 youwere a serial killer at the time.”

Dean shakes his head. “Fucking shapeshifters.”

Logan smiles.

“I’m sorry,” Max says. “But exactly how do you know this idiot. Because last I checked, X-5 494has been possessed by a demon for almost ten years.”

“What?” Logan asks. It’s 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.

“There’s no demon in here,” Dean says. “Promise.”

“Like I’m going to take your word for it, 494.”

Dean opens his mouth in to retort but Logan beats him to the punch. “That’s not 494.” He takes adeep breath. “And I’m not the Logan Cale you know.”

He doesn’t know what he expects. Honestly, he’s a little surprised he doesn’t get stabbed again.“Okay,” Max says, “I’ll play. If you’re not Logan and he’s not the demon possessing 494, whothe hell are you?”

“Oh, that’s still Logan Cale,” Dean informed her with a wide grin. “I just you can just think ofhim as an earlier model. But I’m not 494 or Alec or whatever the hell you call this guy. My nameis Dean Winchester.”

Recognition flashes in Max’s eyes. “Bullshit. Dean Winchester is dead.”

“Trust me sweetheart,” Dean drawls. “I’m hard to kill.”

“Fine, say I do believe that’s really Dean Winchester. Who the hell are you?”

“Still Logan Cale. Just not this world’s Logan Cale.”

“Like a parallel universe thing? I’ve met a few people who say they’re from a parallel universe.”

“What happened to them?”

“They died.”

“Sounds promising,” Dean snorts.

“How do I know you’re really Logan and not some guy trying to fuck with me?”

The knife wound in his shoulder aches, singing her betrayal. “I don’t know.”

“Who is Eyes Only?” she asks.

“I am,” Logan replies. He watches Dean’s 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 threeyears?”

“Hold on,” Dean says. “You’re telling me this place has been like this for three years.”

“Closer to ten. But if you were really Dean Winchester, I think you’d know that.”

“What happened to Terminal City?” Logan asks before the argument can escalate. He isstruggling to keep his voice even but knows something of the pain and frustration has to beseeping through. “Last I saw it was chalk full of transgenics. There’s barely a soul here.”

Max goes quiet. Her whole body as still as he’s ever seen it. “Transgenics.”

“Yeah,” Logan says. “The Manticore escapees. Twelve of you in ’09 and the whole damn facilityeleven years after that.”

“That didn’t happen here,” Max says and she’s guarded now. “Far as I know I’m the onlytransgenic out and that’s thanks to you.”

“Thought these transgenics were supposed to be stronger than your average guy,” Dean says.“Don’t seem like the types to stop fighting.”

But Logan sees where this ends already. It hurts more than he expected. He remembers Jace andZach and Ben and Gem and Tinga and above all Alec. He squeezes his eyes shut. “Dean, youtake a Manticore soldier with superior strength and speed who also happens to be used to takingorders and then add Hell busting loose and demons going everywhere. What the hell do you thinkis going to happen?”

Max is staring at him with a far off gleam in her eyes. “Where you come from, it’s not like that?You said there were transgenics in Terminal City.”

“A whole city of them,” Logan confirms. “They’ve taken to calling it freak nation.”

“I kind of like that.”

“That’s beautiful,” Dean snaps. “Really it is, I’m honored to be a part of this but I’m a little moreinterested in what the hell happened to me and Sammy and why Hell seems to have won thiswar.”

“Everyone knows this story,” Max says. “Back in ’09 there was some sort of electronic signal thatwiped all the electronics in the country clean. President blamed terrorists. And things went to Hellfor about a year. Looting, crime going bezerk. These weird cases of extreme violence no onecould explain. There was no internet to connect people so it just sort of stayed like that. Isolatedincidents that no one could piece together. But in 2011, the Winchester brothers died and thewhole world went to hell. See, story says the Winchesters were trying to stop the apocalypse andended up bringing it instead. Way my Logan told it to me, Dean Winchester was supposed to bethe only one who could stop it. You know kill the Devil or whatever and bring us back into thegolden age. I’m not quite buying it.”

“No,” Dean says faintly. “That sounds about right to me.”

Max swallows. “All right then. Good to meet you Dean.”

“That’s it? Really, after an hour of you poking and prodding at me with holy water iron andwhatever the hell you could find, this is what gets you to believe us.”

“Maybe I’m an optimist.”

“I don’t follow,” Logan says.

A sly grin crosses Max’s features. “If Dean Winchester is alive and is supposedly the only personon this planet who can kill the Devil, it sounds like we’ve got a second chance at winning thisthing.”

***

There’s already a plan in place. Logan doesn’t particularly like the notion considering until anhour ago, Max seemed to think this plan was suicide. And to Logan’s eyes, it still looks a hell of alot like suicide by demons. Like going down fighting and taking as much of the enemy down withyou.

He’s still got a desk here thought the equipment set up on it is highly different. The bare bonesneeded for an audio-only broadcast. There’s 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 theMax he knows) abhors guns and won’t 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, someiron rounds. It chills him to the bone.

“This is insane,” Dean says for the twentieth time in the past hour. “Like really, really suicidallyinsane. I didn’t think you’d 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 samesort of insanity that had overtaken him the summer after he though Max had died. “There’s a kindof 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 that’s what it takes, that’s what it takes. We’re 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 andcrazy stabbing lady. “

There is a transcript of the planned Eyes Only broadcast in his hands. Logan skims it over, halfamused, half terrified by the changes to his mission. “If Max is right and the two of us are bigtargets in this reality, you can bet all of the big players are going to show up. Probably includingwhatever fallen angel that dragged you here in the first place.”

“Probably also including the Devil.”

Logan returns his eyes to the page and doesn’t reply.

Because he remembers some of the details to what’s been written in his counterpart’s 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 gentlychanges his bandages. Dean is already asleep, snoring lightly with a book open on his chest.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Max says. “I’m usually pretty good about now stabbing my onlyally.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Logan mutters. It doesn’t put him on his death bed which already means itwas better contact than the Max of his universe. “I’ve had worse.”

As he says that, the gauze catches just a little on the wall behind him and he flinches in pain. Maxsmiles just a little smugly.

“How did we meet here?” Logan asks slowly. “Got to admit I’m a little curious.”

“Four years ago,” Max says. “I was possessed. You did an exorcism. I wanted to fight so westarted kicking ass together.”

“Sounds like we make a pretty good team.”

“Honestly,” Max replies, “I just think you were glad you weren’t on your own anymore. I know Iwas.” She smiles at him, just a little shyly. “So, a girl’s got to ask. What’s your Max like?”

Logan winces as the bandage comes off completely. The wound hasn’t begun to scab over yet,but it isn’t bleeding anymore. This body is more equipped with handling pain than he is used towhich worries him considering in the past few years he’s dealt with quite a bit of pain. “She’suntouchable,” Logan says finally, smiling at his own private joke. “Strongest person I know.”

“And I guess it’s the same as here. You and Max leading an army of transgenics out ofoppression. Fighting the good fight and all that.”

She has begun slowly wrapping fresh gauze around the wound. He can’t bring himself to look ather. “Max doesn’t need me.”

Max hesitates just for a second, a hitch in the way she’s wrapping his gauze like he’s just brokenher world view and he knows in that second that he’s never going to have this. Never going tohave Max the way this universe’s Logan seems to have her. He’s never going to be on the samepage as her. Never going to be anything but a friend to her.

And he’s all right with that. He looks over to the Max in front of him and tries to smile at her. “It’sall right. I don’t need her either.”

***

The girl is waiting for him in his dream. Taunting him, throwing up images of 2009 and his 2022and this 2022 and the past of this universe until he isn’t sure what is real anymore. “Pick one,” thegirl says. “Or lose them all.”

Then suddenly, without warning, there is another presence behind him and he feels a blind terroras 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 hismouth. “You’re in my head,” Logan says. “Get the hell out. I’ve got a enough mess of my ownwithout 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. Thedemon 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 isthere 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 byconventional 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 tomaintain this conversation. Since killing the demon didn’t work, there is only one other feasibleoption for reversing this temporal anomaly.”

“Why aren’t you telling Dean this instead of me?”

“Because I know Dean Winchester and there are certain things he would not consider.”

“I don’t like where this is going.”

“Nor do I.” Castiel sighs heavily. “But I do not see any other present option. The spell preformedto bring Dean here was a blood spell and thus the only way to undo it is with another bloodletting.”

“Not that I’m advocating it or anything, but in a world like this, it shouldn’t be too hard to findsome blood.”

“I am afraid that most of the available blood is... insufficient. It would require the blood ofsomeone 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 Luciferand returning his forces back to Hell. Logan, if this is to succeed, it will require your blood.”

Logan can’t 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. Deanis giving instructions in the authoritative voice tinged with panic. There are devil’s traps all overthe floor. “What’s going on?” Logan asks. His head hurts and Castiel’s voice rings in his ears. Ifear it will cost more than you can spare.

But what is the alternative? He can’t stay here. This world is even more broken than the one heknows 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 we’re going to have half achance at this.”

“You talked to Castiel?”

“Yeah, he did the brainwalk thing while I was sleeping.. If we don’t fix this in the next day or so,we’re going to be stuck here.”

“I don’t know about you guys,” Max adds. “But I’ll take pretty much any world over this one.You think you could make the broadcast, Logan?”

“Broadcast?”

“You don’t need to do much. Before all this happened you already made the transcript.”

That was the plan. It had been in motion for months. He’d contacted ever known band of huntersso they had time to set up their parts, so they had time to organize the mass exorcisms that withluck could turn the tide of this battle. Eyes Only would make the broadcast to signal the movementand they would do it with the location scrambler off. Max and Logan are big enough game todraw a lot of attention. They are the last vestiges of the resistance in the Pacific Northwest. EyesOnly is the one reliable means of disseminating information. Even if the demons knew it was atrap, this was something they wouldn’t resist. It is a good plan. It will probably get them all killed,but it is a good plan.

Only he shouldn’t know any of the details.

“Logan!” Dean calls. “Sooner would be better.”

“I remember this,” Logan says quietly. “We’ve been planning this for months.”

Dean catches him by the shoulders, holding him fast. “Logan, I need you to focus. Cas says thisthing is going to be there. We need to ice it before you go native on us. I’m not sure I could getout of here on my own.”

This is Dean Winchester. This is his friend. He met him in 2009 and now it’s 2022 and he’s inAlec’s 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. “Let’s get youback.”

“Let’s get the both of us back,” Dean replies with a grin.

Logan doesn’t answer, just shuffles through the papers on the desk until he comes up with thebroadcast. The opening mantra is nearly identical to the one he’d devised years ago in the realworld.

He fumbles for the broadcast set-up. It’s far lower tech than what he is used to but he recognizes itfrom a broadcast journalism class he’d taken at Yale before the Pulse.

Want to know a secret? Dean’s form asks him from the depths of a memory that shouldn’t behis. I’m not Dean Winchester. Which means we’ve still got an ace up our sleeves.

He shakes his head, clears his throat and flashes a smile at Max. He can’t bring himself to look atDean. “Let’s 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 betraced, cannot be stopped and it is the only free voice operating in this sector. Over the past tenyears humanity has live in fear. Fear of the demons. Fear of our neighbors. Tonight it ends. Youknow what to do. Stay strong in the struggle.” Logan takes a deep breath. He forgoes hiscustomary farewell. In this time and place Peace. Out is an almost laughable sentiment. “This isEyes 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 aren’t ready. Logan is in adaze, half lost in a memory that shouldn’t be his but is. Max has half an arsenal strapped to herchest and a knife that kills demons in her hands. Dean has painted devil’s trap in front of everydoor and salted all the windows. They should be safe.

But the demons don’t come through the doors and they don’t 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 itsdispleasure. Max is moving swiftly through the debris, welding the blade with the smooth fluiditynative to Manticore soldiers. Dean is hiding in an almost invisible trench near the wall, pumpingiron rounds into them one after another. Logan has six flasks of holy water on his body. His bodyremembers how this works even though he doesn’t and he is surrounded by three demons hissingin pain before he even computes his own movement.

As far as fights go, it is not hopeless. He can hear Dean’s voice ringing out the exorcism ritualloud 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. Logandoesn’t know what’s happening at first. There is a man—a 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 doesn’t 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 sailingthrough 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 Devil’s hands.

Max’s 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 Winchester’s face.“Run.”

The world swims in front of him and he falls to his knees.

***

He’s never been in this much pain before.

He finds himself strung up by meat hooks. One in his shoulder. One on his palm. One througheach calf.

He is still alive and it is still the wrong 2022 but Dean Winchester is still out there and Max is stillout 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 feelthis deep in his bones. “Screw you,” Logan mutters.

“Such defiance.” He can’t quite make out the man’s form. The world is blurred past recognitionhe is thankful for this. “But then again I would expect no less from Logan Cale, the great EyesOnly. It’s funny to think a man such as yourself could elude me for going on ten years.” The blurmoves and the left side of his abdomen explodes into pain. “You know I always forget just howfrail humans can be. I was hoping you would be stronger yourself.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” Logan hisses.

“I would not expect you to. And it would seem that your tattoo prevents me from allowing myfollowers the use of your meat suit. Which means I have no real use of you at all. I just wanted tolet you know, your friend Max, the hunters you’ve mobilized, they will all be dead well beforemorning.” 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 uttermostcertainty. His blood dripping slowly and surely onto the ground and suddenly, something in hishead breaks and there are memories invading his vision tumbling on over the other in a madmelody of what was and what could have been.

He is twenty years old and over thirty watching himself from the distance wondering if he’s gonecompletely insane a blond haired woman tells him. This is all completely and utterly impossibly,he wakes up and it’s 2019 again and his legs don’t work and it’s all just a tangle of flesh andblood and he doesn’t think he’s ever needed to get out of here as badly as he needs to get out ofhere right now. Another twenty seconds and he’s a good as dead to the world. Dean Winchesteris dead but it’s not really Dean Winchester is it dude, what year is it Exorcizamus te, omnisimmundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas I’ll make sure you can’t have the world either fear itwill 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 ithits the floor. How much has he lost? How much can he afford to lose? Someone’s screaming andthe sound is so raw, it feels like his throat is tearing. He can’t think anymore. He wishes he couldhave---

---He wakes up to the television blaring news about an explosion in sector four. He doesn’t seeDean. Doesn’t see Max. Doesn’t 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? Weneed you in the med bay. Mr. Alec’s 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 sureyou were all right.”

“Why? He was the one in the explosion.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Logan.”

“Let’s go then.”

He tries to stand up but can’t because his legs don’t work. His ankle is broken and thetransfusion’s lingering effects are gone. He pushes the wheelchair deftly out the door. The hall tothe infirmary is longer than he remembers but the faces are familiar. The conversations arefamiliar. This is how it should be.

He can hear Alec before he sees him. “I’m fine. Where’s Logan? Is he all right? Someone’s got tocheck 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 andit was damn clear I couldn’t do it because if it killed me, it killed Dean and the world wasdamned... I though I was going to wake up with you dead.”

“I didn’t think I was going to wake up,” Logan admits.

Alec’s eyes go dark and for a second, Logan flashes onto the obituray he’d found. Sam and DeanWinchester dead in 2011. “I didn’t 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 withworry 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 don’t know?”

“Dean can more than take care of himself,” Logan says. “And you can bet he can take care of hisbrother as well.”

Alec doesn’t say anything for a good long while. In fact, Logan’s 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 isnot hers, will never be hers and she will never understand. It’s all right though. He’s not sure he’dwant her to understand.

“I’m glad you’re all right, Logan,” Alec says finally.

“Good to be home,” Logan whispers.

***

Four hours later, Logan and Alec are hold up in Logan’s room drinking the same bottle ofhomemade brew, Logan had shared with Dean only days before. Logan is at the tail end of hisstory. The one than began three years ago and thirteen years ago both at the same time. It is a storyhe has told no one except Dean Winchester and the weight off his chest makes him feel lighterthan he has in years.

There is a knock on the door that interrupts their conversation and Logan slightly drunk andslightly 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 it’s not Max who enters. It’s a pair of men, forty years old with grayinghair 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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