Summery: Sam and Dean are sent to another reality where Sam is engaged and Dean has a kid. They keep getting memories of this life, and in the end, will they even remember their own reality?
"Sam!" Dean's eyes shot open. He immediately shot up it bed. But the bed wasn't the same…neither was this room…this wasn't the motel. The room had pictures of him with a woman and a small child. As he stared at the pictures scenes began to flash before his eyes.
A wedding…his wedding. The honeymoon, buying this house, a child being born, a crash, a funeral…but who's?
He shook his head quickly. "What the hell…?" he whispered to himself. He turned to reach for the phone, first instinct: call Sam. But before he could the door creaked open.
"Daddy?" came a small voice. A young girl, probably about 3 years old, walked through his door. She had insane curly blond hair and a little power rangers nightgown on. He immediately felt an un-Dean like emotion: he felt compassion and a fatherly love for the child.
"What's wrong, sweetie?" he asked. 'Woah!' his mind screamed 'Where the fuck is this all coming from? Where am I!' "Come here, what's wrong?"
The young girl immediately ran to her daddy's bed and scrambled under the covers next to him. Without thinking Dean wrapped his arms around the young girl. "I had a bad dweam…about mommy." The child whimpered
Suddenly the crash flashed before his eyes again. The woman, from the wedding…then the funeral. He could see the stone clearly now. It was the woman. 'Annabelle. My wife. She died last month.' All these memories flashed into his mind and he felt grief wash over him.
He wrapped his arms protectively around his daughter 'Samantha.' Like he used to when Sam had bad dreams when he was little.
"It's ok, Sammy." He whispered "You can sleep here tonight."
And before they knew it, both were asleep.
Dean awoke to find Samantha no longer in his arms. Sun peered through the curtains. He looked at the clock "Ten am…" he muttered to himself. He sat up just as the door flew open and Samantha launched herself onto his bed. She was now dressed. She had on a little white tank top with different colored butterflies on it and a pair of jeans. She had her shoes on the wrong feet and he hair was sticking in different directions.
"Grampa's! Grampa's!" she sang.
"Grandpa's?" he asked his daughter
"Yup! We go grampa's house for bwunch!" Dean chuckled at the child's inability to pronounce R's.
"Ok, sweetie. Let me change first."
Once Dean had changed into a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans he brushed Samantha's hair and pulled it back into a fluffy ponytail and fixed her shoes while she clutched her stuffed Tramp doll from 'Lady and The Tramp'…apparently her favorite movie.
Suddenly he stopped at the door as she ran out. "What the hell is going on?" he whispered to himself. "Why do I keep going along with this?" He wasn't doing it on purpose. It was like instinct was taking over…instinct he didn't know he had…
"Daddy! Come on!" He then realized he had no idea where 'Grampa's' was. But apparently Samantha knew 'cause she was already running down the street.
"Sam!" he called out "Don't run away from daddy." He ordered, taking the girl's hand. He let her lead the way as she lead him the 2 blocks to a big yellow house with a garden in front. "Dude…this can not be my father's house." He whispered to himself.
"What daddy?" asked the young girl.
"What? Oh nothing."
She suddenly detached herself from Dean and went running to the now open door. Dean stared in shock at the woman who now held his daughter.
"No fucking way." He whispered "Mom?"