Spinning tires and smoking asphalt. The Winchester brothers find themselves on a chase and out of time…Across state, across country, and where does it end? Nowhere. In the middle of a field. Chasing this demon in human form, they drive faster and faster, evil brushing against their bumper, pedal to the metal. The wind howls at the doors and the night grows darker as they peer out of the smooth, curved glass of the Impala’s windshield. The rain begins to fall. Then pour. A drenching flood. Lightning flashes. Thunder resounds. A bolt rips through the sky, a flash lighting the damned road before them. No.. Ahead. Too fast. Solid stone. Gonna crash!

“Dean, Look out!”

Too late.

No control. No brakes. No hope. No prayer. A crash of deafening silence. Bent metal and broken glass. But no…



A bright light in his eyes, Dean swats the offending hand away.

“Get that damn light outta my eyes, Sammy. What the hell man?”

Typical younger brother antics.

He moves to sit up, but a hand on his shoulder stops him. Stops him with force. Not Sammy. Dean’s eyes dart from side to side as his vision clears in the dimly lit room. The darkness fades, but the dingy light from the bare bulb overhead remains.

“Sam!” he yells out, but to no avail. He is once again silenced by a sharp push on his shoulder. He gritted his teeth. Whoever this was…he was a son of a bitch.

Annoyed, damn near angry, he looks to the shadowed figure beside him.,

Shit.

“Who the hell…” he begins, his voice gruff as he moves to sit up again, wrenching his shoulder from this…person’s?…grip. The severe look of cold eyes seen only in the dark makes him think twice.



The man speaks finally, suspicions confirmed. Well, at least Dean thought he was a man. Could be wrong…Most likely was wrong. Anybody that could hold him down had to be some kinda demonic bastard.

A step into the light and Dean’s eyes widen. Same eyes. Same height. Same hair. But younger. A few years younger, it seemed. What the hell? Another time…Another place.

This figure speaks, his voice similar, but creased with a difference that Dean can’t place.
A sarcastic tone. A no-nonsense demeanor, his arms crossed over his chest, the clone from hell opens his mouth again. “I think you can ask questions once you tell me what you’re doing here…”

“Might help to know where I am, wise guy,” Dean retorts, “And who the hell you are. Gotta give a little to get, punk.”

An annoyed sigh came from this guy as he rolled his eyes. Dean narrowed his own eyes. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

“Alec is all you need to know. Seattle, Washington. Terminal City’s the name. You crashed through the gate…the gate that you better plan on fixing. Now…what the hell are you doing here?”

Dean blinked. Then blinked again. He clenched his jaw and pursed his lips. To answer honestly, he didn’t have a damn clue.


Lost in another time, another place, it's up to the Winchester brothers to end this fight once and for all. Against unknown forces and formidable foes, they will test the waters, push the limit, and fight the odds...But even they don't know how far that will take them...Not yet.