last01standing: (Default)
[personal profile] last01standing
Title: World Behind Windows
Rating: PG-13ish
Disclaimer: I can lay no claims on DA, SPN or Life on Mars
SPOILERS: DA pilot, SPN through season four, plot premise taken from Life on Mars (UK)
Summary: Logan gets shot and the next thing he knows, he's stuck ten years in the past riding shotgun to Dean Winchester.
Notes:For those of you who know LoM, it might be of interest that Logan is Sam Tyler, Dean is Gene Hunt, Bobby is Hyde, Lillith is the Test Card Girl and Sam Winchester’s disappearance has something to do with this whole mess.

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World Behind Windows

Over the next few days, he tells Dean everything he knows. Everything about the future and how he came to be here. Dean listens wordlessly for the most part and Logan can read the skepticism clearly on his face but he keeps his doubts to himself.

“Still think I’m crazy?” Logan asks when he finishes.

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says lighting. “You’ve blown a gasket. The television talks to you. There’s something seriously messed up with that.”

“The television’s not so bad,” Logan mutters. “I can deal with the television but the little girl.” He shudders. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that afraid of anything.”

“This girl didn’t happen to have white eyes did she?”

Logan frowns. “No. Not that I can remember.”

Dean snorts. “That’s actually good news even if it does put you back into the buckets of crazy category.”

Despite himself, Logan cracks a smile. “What should we do then? How do we get me back?”

Dean doesn’t say a word but the ones from the roof linger in the silence. I think the only way to get back to 2019 is to survive. The statement haunts Logan’s every waking moment. He can’t wait that long. Hell, with the Pulse and untold multitudes of demons lurking on the horizon, he can’t honestly expect to live that long. The weight of the situation threatens to crush him even as Dean does everything he can to help.

“You know what we should do, future boy,” Dean says as they blow past another state line. “We should go visit your institution, see the old alma matter. There might be something there we can use.”

Logan doesn’t want to see the mental institution. Doesn’t want another reminder of who he is supposed to be in this world. He likes Logan Cale just fine without knowing Logan Michaels but he can’t think of a viable reason to put the visit off so he consents. Dean sets about getting medical histories and discharge paper while Logan works on the problem of finding Sam Winchester.

Dean gives him a notebook filled in cramped scrawl about everything he’s found since his brother’s disappearance. Logan combs through it piecing together dozens of different things trying to find a pattern. He puts it all into the computer, arranging and rearranging the data trying to come up with something solid. Dean disappears for a day and comes back rain drenched and bone tired. “There are no records,” he says. “There was a fire the first of the year. They lost about half their files. Yours was with them.”

Maybe there wasn’t even a file to begin with. “I never went to that place,” Logan says.

“Well you didn’t just fall out of the sky,” Dean snaps.

“I fell out of 2019,” Logan retorts.

They take down a poltergeist in Illinois and Logan breaks his left wrist in three places when the thing hurls him down a flight of stairs. He wakes up in the blinding white of a pre-Pulse hospital thinking he’s finally woke up home but he hasn’t and he throws up everything in his stomach when Dean Winchester strolls into his hospital room.

He hates hospitals. There’s a stabbing pain in his back just above the waist that has been here for ages but seems worse when he’s in the hospital bed. He has a pristine white cast on his left wrist and though the injury doesn’t hurt in the slightest, the persistent beeping of the heart monitor is driving him insane.

Two hours after he wakes up he hears doctors outside talking about a coma patient and starts panicking only to find that there’s a man in the next room who was hit by a bus and who is definitely not him.

Dean checks him out of the hospital against medical advice and Logan sits, shaking in the impala for the next five hundred miles unsure of where he is. He’s losing it slowly but surely and he hasn’t heard a word from 2019 for more then a week.

He’s starting to think that he might already be dead. Starting to think that this world is his heaven and his hell all rolled up into one. The thought doesn’t bring him any comfort, just an emptiness that claws at his gut that he tries to drown with Dean Winchester and shots at a bar.

It doesn’t help. He wakes up the next morning with a hangover and his arm aching with a pulse all its own. It’s still 2009. He’s been waking up in 2009 for so long it’s starting to feel natural. Like the place he should be waking up.

While Dean is out grabbing coffee Logan goes through his phone for a number and then punches in the digits for Bobby Singer’s number into his own cell. He takes a deep breath and hits the call button.

Bobby Singer picks up on the third ring. “How the hell did you get this number?”

Logan likes his lips and stares at the edges of the blindingly white cast and says, “Mr. Singer? It’s Logan Cale.”

He doesn’t know what he had expected to hear from that but it isn’t what comes. It isn’t a gruff voice with a hint of anger demanding, “Yeah, and who the hell is Logan Cale?”

The bottom falls out of Logan’s world. Not that there had been much of one to begin with. He is in free fall and has been in free fall since he woke up (except he hasn’t woken up. Not really. He is in a coma in 2019). “I-I-” he doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know if he has a tenuous connection to this Bobby Singer even if Dean seems to think Bobby is the person who sent him. “I’m a friend of Dean Winchester’s.”

“Dean?” Bobby echoes, something like worry creeping into his voice. “Is he in trouble? Did something happen.”

“Dean’s fine,” Logan says, trying to placate the man. “It’s just—I mean.”

The door to the motel opens and Logan snaps the phone shut. Dean hands him the coffee and says, “You look like you got run over by a truck.”

Ten minutes later, Dean’s cell phone blares from his pocket. He pulls it out to check the caller ID before hanging up without an answer. He gestures to the door. “Bobby,” he says by way of explanation. “We should get going, future boy. There’s talk of demonic possession three towns over and if we’re lucky we can head this off before someone else dies.”

Logan follows him out the door. Bobby calls Dean at intervals of four minutes for the next two hours to the point where Logan finally asks, “Why don’t you go ahead and turn the damn phone off.”

Dean pulls the phone from his pocket, looks at it for a moment and then says, “Sam might call.”

The next time the phone rings, Dean answers it and barks, “The hell do you want, Bobby?”

Logan stares out the window, absentmindedly picking at the edge of his cast. There are cows out in the field. Dozens of them, all different colors and different patterns. The intricacy of it astounds him.

“Yeah he’s in the car,” Dean says to the phone. “Yeah, I know he’s not a hunter.” His voice goes steely cold. “I’m still looking.—No, no I’d go back to hell before I let you touch my little brother.” He hangs up and shoves the phone roughly back into his pocket,

“Dean,” Logan says after a long pause. “We’re going to find your brother.”

“I know we are,” says Dean.


The warehouse where they trap the demon is infused with the stench of stale blood. Dean wants to use the knife, wants to kill the demon for good, but Logan puts his foot down and reminds him that there could still be a person in there.

The exorcism is horrific. Far worse then anything Logan could have ever imagined. The demon is bound to a chair underneath a devil’s trap, chest heaving as Dean recites the ritual. Logan can smell sulfur like a thick rotten cloud over the scene. “There is no future,” the demon hisses in Logan’s direction. “The world doesn’t even have six months left.”

Dean reads unfazed through the taunts until the demon, writing in pain proclaims, “I am one of the hands of the boy king. You will be welcome into hell with open arms.”

Dean flushes red and for a second Logan is sure he is going to break the boundary and stab the guy through the heart. But he doesn’t. He just gives the thing a tight, forced smile and says. “I guess I’ll see you there.”

And then he finishes the exorcism.

The sight of the man belching black smoke is the most grotesque and enthralling thing Logan has ever seen but he’s more preoccupied with the man himself who collapses like a broken toy into his chair. Logan darts forward and catches him before he topples to the ground. He’s still alive. Unconscious for the most part of the drive to the hospital but alive.

When they drop him off at the ER the man pulls Dean into a tight hug and whispers, “Thank you. If it wasn’t for you that thing would have killed me.”

They leave the man alone in the hospital rather then risk answering questions and Logan knows they’ll never see him again but there’s a pleasant feeling in his stomach that feels like the satisfaction of an Eyes Only hack.

“I would have killed him if it wasn’t for you,” Dean says a few miles down the road. “I would have stabbed him, left him bleeding and forgot about him if it wasn’t for you. Sometimes it’s hard to remember there are still people in there. That was always Sam’s job. But thanks. For reminding me.”

The scene flies by out Logan’s window. He can’t remember what state they’re in but he knows it’s one he’s never scene before. Scenery he’s never seen before. “What happened to your brother?” Logan asks.

Dean is quiet for a long minute, listen to the radio’s static distorted rendition of AC/DC’s Hells Bells and then he switches off the radio, takes a deep breath and says, “Sam has this—gift I guess. That’s what he always used to call it. Psychic mojo or something but it wasn’t natural and it wasn’t right. When I got back from—” He stops, swallows and starts again. “When I got back he’d started using the stuff. It came from demons and he was trying to make it something good. He stopped for a while but we were in a bind, cornered by something too big for us to handle and Sam told me to get behind him and there was this light. I woke up two days later surrounded by bodies and Sam was gone. He opened up a door and he walked through it and I don’t know if he can come back.”

For some reason, Logan thinks of Joe Turner leaning across the table to say, Once you let something like that in—willingly. There’s no turning back.

And it sounds like Sam let that thing in. Let that seed of power corrupt him until he wasn’t Dean’s brother anymore.

“I had dozens of people telling me I need to waste him. That he’s too far gone. Hell, I had angels telling me I needed to kill him.”

Dean’s fingers are white on the steering while. His eyes are straight ahead on the road and he’s not crying he’s just talking with a kind of detachment Logan suspects isn’t healthy. This is Dean Winchester’s soul laid out for him to see. This is Dean Winchester wrapped in loyalty and pain. Logan doesn’t know what to say.

“I told them no,” Dean finishes. “There aren’t a hell of a lot of things I wouldn’t do if I had to, but that’s one of them. I won’t kill my brother. And when everyone else started to realize that, they left.”

“I’m sorry,” Logan says after a pause that stretches on for miles.

Dean forces a smile and says, “You haven’t left yet.”


The next time he wakes up it’s still 2009. He knows this because Dean is snoring from the bed next to him and the motel’s tacky green wallpaper with a border of naked women is practically glowing in the dark.

But Uncle Jonas is standing over his bed looking grave and Logan can’t move from terror. I’m afraid it’s time to let go, Jonas says.

“Let go?” Logan echoes. “Let go of what?”

A doctor sweeps into existence, scribbling something gravely on a clipboard. It will take a day to get the paperwork in order. We’ll be removing your nephew from life support tomorrow morning at noon, Mr. Cale. I am very sorry for your loss.

Jonas leans in toward Logan and whispers, I am truly sorry, Logan but one can’t hold to false hope forever. There’s no use to holding a body when the soul is gone.

“I’m not gone!” Logan screams. “I’m here and I’m alive and if you take me off, that’s not helping that’s murder! I’m alive!”

Jonas’s form fades the second Dean wakes up in the bed over. “What the hell, Cale?” he grouses.

Logan pulls his legs up to his chest. He is shaking and he can’t stop. He keeps imagining a gunshot and a pain in his spine and the long beep of a flat-lining heart monitor.

“Logan?” Dean says, softer now. “Logan, what happened?”

“There’s switching me off,” he says. “They’re switching me off life support tomorrow at noon and I don’t know how to stop them.”

Dean doesn’t have anything to say to that, no one would. No one can. Logan wonders what it will be like to die. If he’ll be stuck in 2009 forever or if dying in the future meant dying in the past as well. He’s at his breaking point, shards of Logan held together with the barest remaining fraction of sanity.

“Calm the hell down,” Dean says. “We’ll figure this out. You’re not going to die. I’m not going to let you.”

They go about a parody of their usual morning routine. Dean downs a coffee and takes a shower. Logan obsessively flips through the channels on the motel’s televisions with the hope that one of them will give him an update on the future. But then Logan’s phone starts ringing. He stares at it like it’s a piece of alien technology. No one has his number because he knows no one he is here. No one but Dean.

He picks it up.

“There is a way out,” a voice says, distorted by static.

Logan cups the phone to his ear. “Who is this?”

“The Winchester brothers are a unit,” the voice says. It’s female he thinks but too old for the girl from his dreams. “Everything I’ve heard says they’re going to end up on the same side. Dean hasn’t chosen his yet but when the time comes he’s going to pick his brother and then the whole world will burn. The Winchester brothers must be eliminated.”

“Eliminated?” Logan echoes. “Eliminated as in killed? Who the hell is this?”

“I’m a friend all right,” she snaps. “And I’m risking my life making this call so a little respect is in order.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m going to kill Dean,” Logan says.

“Funny how it goes, future boy,” she hisses. “Because killing the Winchesters just might be the one thing out there that can get you home.”

The phone line goes dead as Dean strides out of the shower. “Who the hell’s calling you?” he demands. “Last I checked, the only contact in there was me.”

“Wrong number,” Logan says shakily. He thinks of the stash of weapons in the trunk and wonders how he can get his hands on it without arousing suspicion. Wonders if he could actually do it this if that was how it ended. And he doesn’t know.

This isn’t real. It shouldn’t matter.

But it does. It matters quite a lot because Dean believed him. Logan has to keep reminding himself that Dean Winchester is a coma dream because Logan can’t imagine making up someone so unique. He should have tried his hand at fiction while he’d had the chance.

If he came down to it, Dean Winchester or waking up, could he make that choice?

Logan wonders over to the computer and turns it on. He’s created a program to analyze the patterns that might have risen in Sam’s known location. There were signs in the days before, demons gathering like storm clouds. I am one of the hands of the boy king.

He clicks through pages of data and finds it. The omens. The red flag gathering over Seattle Washington.

Logan doesn’t know why he’s surprised. That’s where it started after all. That’s where he laid bleeding in the street and later comatose in the hospital. Of course that’s going to end at noon tomorrow when Uncle Jonas lets them pull the plug. He’s got to wake up before that. He either wakes up or he’s dead.

“What’s the word, future boy?” Dean asks flippantly, shaking his hair dry.

Logan swallows and says, “Sam’s in Seattle.”


It’s should have been a two day’s drive. Hell, they started in freaking Louisiana but Dean knows shortcuts and breaks land speed records and tears through the states with surreal speed almost verging on terror. Logan wonders briefly why they hadn’t just flown but he writes it off as a need to keep the weapons close.

They don’t talk about a lot of things on that drive. They don’t talk about what’s going to happen when they finally do find Sam and they don’t talk about Logan’s deadline ticking slowly into being.

They make it to Seattle after driving straight through the night and they’re both wired on too much adrenaline and too much caffeine realizing that Seattle is a really freaking huge city.

Dean has slowed down nod, taking each street with a slow precise pace. Logan marks the streets with memories. The place where he will live. The place where Max will work. The street in which he will be shot. He thinks of Logan Cale, the other Logan Cale, the twenty year old kid at the basketball game and wonders how he’d ended up here. Doesn’t know if he’d stop it even if he had the option.

He had liked his life in 2019. It had been hard and lonely but it was his and he wants it back. He needs the drive that had pushed Eyes Only. He needs to make a difference because he needs to feel alive. That’s why he’d invented this scenario. Why he’d cast himself as the sidekick to a misunderstood hero. This was his psyche coming out to play and now he has to destroy the illusion if he wanted to wake up.

His head hurts. His back hurts. All of it throbs like he’s been shot and lying in a coma but his wrist, the one he’d broken here last week doesn’t hurt at all. Logan leans back in and sees the answer looming over Seattle’s skyline. “Dean, if I’m looking to make a big splashy mess, I know where I’d go.”

“Care to share with the class, future boy?”

Logan raises his arm, barely even noticing the extra weight of the cast and points at the Space Needle.


The Space Needle is closed for tourists that day and Logan knows as well as Dean that this is the right place. That it has to be the right place. Logan looks at his watch. 11:42. Eighteen minutes and it’s going to be over one way or another. Dean hands him a loaded gun and says, “Shoot my brother anywhere resembling fatal and I’ll shoot you.”

Logan watches Dean’s back as he makes his way to the Space Needle, the cold dead weight of the gun heavy in his hand. He forces a deep breath and trails off behind him.

A female security guard is positioned at the entrance. Dean marches up to her straight up to her and Logan expects him to sweet talk her and charm his way inside but instead he seizes her by the neck, plows through the door and pins her to the wall. Logan follows, horrified at the violence. “What the hell are you doing, Dean?” he screams. “That’s—“

“Logan,” Dean says with a feral grin. “Meet Ruby. Ruby, Logan. This little bitch here is the reason why Sam started this mess to begin with. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

Ruby reaches up and breaks the hold Dean has on her neck and sneers. “Dean Winchester, always a pleasure.”

“You better start singing,” Dean hisses, drawing the knife from his waistband, “or else you’re getting an all expense paid trip to the land down under.”

“I never wanted this to happen,” she spits. He eyes flash black. “I wanted Sam using his power, at the top of his game, killing Lilith. But I didn’t expect this.”

“Bullshit,” Dean hisses.

“It’s the truth,” Ruby insists. “I want that bitch’s head on a platter and I thought Sammy was my golden ticket.” She tilts her head and folds her arms over he chest. “Not my best bet but what’s a gamble if there’s nothing at stake?”

“Where’s my brother,” Dean hisses.

“At the top,” Ruby says immediately. “He’s plotting with Lilith. They’re going to take the whole world down into hell. He’s not your brother anymore and he’s got to be stopped.”

“So why didn’t you stop him yourself,” Logan asks. “I’m guessing you had your chances.”

“Demons can’t touch him,” Ruby sneers. “He’s Lilith’s favorite now. Hurting a hair on his pretty head would earn you a one way trip to the special part of hell.”

“You’re a coward,” Dean says venomously. “You’re a coward and a liar and a cheat.”

“And like it or not, Dean I’m on your side.”

Dean shakes his head and moves toward the elevator. Logan hesitates before he follows.

“You’re going to have to kill Sam!” Ruby screams at them. “Either that or someone’s going to have to kill the both of you!”

And as the elevator closes, Logan recognizes the voice from the telephone and knows that she’s talking at him. The gun feels heavy in his hand and as surreptitiously as he can, he undoes the safely. Dean doesn’t notice. Logan can hear the steady beeping of the heart monitor. He glances at his watch 11:51. Dean is clenching the knife at his side, staring at the elevator doors. He bolts out as soon as they open, calling his brother’s name.

Logan steps out slowly and aims the gun at Dean Winchester’s unexpected back.

“Sam!” Dean screams. “Sammy! Where the hell are you?”

Logan takes a breath and tries to steady his shaking hind. He is only gong to get one shot at this and he can’t miss. He has to sever his ties to the illusion. He has to destroy Dean Winchester. None of this is real.

The lights on the observation deck seem unbelievably bright. Logan blinks blinding up at them. He is wearing glasses today, wearing glasses because he needs every reminder of what’s real.

A damn shame, a distant voice announces. I would have though he’d have someone show up for this.

His uncle just signed the paper and left, a second voice says, Poor guy doesn’t have any family outside of this.

The watch on his wrist reads 11:53 and Logan lowers the gun because he does have someone else. He’s got Dean. And however twisted their tenuous friendship may be, it still mattered. He thinks back to the rooftop in Stanford. The panic etched in Dean’s features as he tried to coax Logan back to safety.

But if there’s even the barest shadow of a doubt in your mind, you’ve got to get the hell off that ledge.

If there’s even a chance that Dean Winchester really exists, Logan can’t pull the trigger. The heart monitor’s roar in his ears. He can hear his heart beating. How long before it stops for good?

Behind him, the second elevator chimes and the doors yawn open to reveal a tall man with dark hair and yellow eyes. Dean turns around and screams, “Sam!”

Sam Winchester shakes his head and looks to Logan. “I was wondering if you had the balls to actually do it.”

The room explodes.


His watch reads 11:57 and blood is roaring in his ears. The observation deck is in shambles. His back is aching. The cast on his left wrist is streaked with someone’s blood. “Dean!” he calls through the wreckage. “Dean!”

Sam Winchester strides through the wreckage like he owns it, bending down to seize Logan by the neck. He lifts Logan off the ground with surreal ease. Logan kicks at the air but connects with nothing. He is going to die. He knows it with complete certainty. He is going to die here and in 2019—maybe in both places at once. It doesn’t matter.

“Dean is mine,” Sam tells him. The mustard yellow eyes glow with an unearthly power. Logan thinks he smells sulfur on his breath. “You’re not supposed to be here. You’re out of time, out of place.” He looks almost thoughtful. “I think I might have to kill you now.”

In the distance, impossibly far away, he hears Dean say, “Don’t you touch him, Sam.”

“It’s the only way,” Sam says. “Yes, I think I’m going to have to kill you.”

“Or,” Logan chokes around a constricting throat. “Or you could just let me go home.”

Something flashes in the yellow of Sam’s eyes and Logan can see someone different underneath. The person Dean had described to him all those days in the impala. This is Sam Winchester. This is Dean’s brother and he’s still there somewhere.

“I brought you here,” Sam says, taken aback. He looks smaller somehow. Far away. Fragile. Logan can see Dean frozen out of the corner of his eye, a knife clenched out at his side. Something like hope is on his face. “I brought you here,” he says slowly. The pressure on Logan’s throat is starting to loosen. His feet touch down on the ground. He can breathe again. “You were supposed to look after my brother in case I couldn’t keep control...”

“Sammy?” Dean asks. “Sammy is that you?”

Sam’s brow creases in confusion and he steps blindly through the rubble toward his brother, the yellow starting to clear from his eyes. “Dean?”

Logan feels like an intruder on this moment. Caught between two brothers meeting again for the first time in months. Still, he can’t look away. These are the infamous Winchester brothers who terrorized the country for years back before the Pulse. But they’re not that. Not really. They’re something bigger then that. Something better. Like Eyes Only spanning the whole of Seattle.

“This is going all wrong!” a petulant voice says from somewhere behind them. “I don’t think I like you anymore.”

Ice is descending on the scene, infusing Logan’s every limb. His vision has taken on a slightly bluish tint. He can hear a heart monitor in the distance. The doctor’s phantom voice saying, It’s time.

He turns toward the voice.

His watch chimes noon.

It’s the girl. The demon girl in the red dress who has haunted his every dream since he came to this place. Logan blinks trying to make her go away. She isn’t real. Not even by this world’s standard. He’s been traveling with Dean for months and he hasn’t seen her once.

Until now.

Dean’s eyes widen. His jaw clenches. “Lilith,” he says.

“I won’t have you taking my toys from me,” Lilith says and her eyes, her eyes are white. A blinding white light like the light at the end of a tunnel. “It’s no fun if you don’t play along.”

“Get behind me,” Sam says stepping forward, arms outstretched.

Dean grabs him by the shoulder. “Sammy, I’m not letting you do this again!”

Sam turns and roars. “Get behind me!”

Lilith has her hand outstretched. Logan collapses to his knees. He can’t feel his legs. There is a blinding white light seeping into his every pore and it hurts. It hurts more then he ever thought possible. There’s blood trickling out of Sam Winchester’s nose. He thinks he hears Dean screaming but he can’t be sure. He tries to reach out, tries to move, but he can’t. He can’t. He can’t.

Everything is white.

Logan wakes up.


You know in retrospect, this probably could have been two or three chapters. Oh well, more for you, right? The last part will be posted tomorrow.

11 |

(no subject)

21/12/08 16:14 (UTC)
impalalove: (Default)
Posted by [personal profile] impalalove
OOH, I CAN'T WAIT. :D *bounces*

(no subject)

22/12/08 15:28 (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile]
=). I'm just off to post it now.

(no subject)

21/12/08 19:12 (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile]
Holy crap. The tension as Logan tries to decided whether or not to kill Dean? That was some quality writing right there.

(no subject)

22/12/08 15:28 (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile]
Thank you very much!

(no subject)

22/12/08 03:32 (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile]
Classic work. I adored it.

(no subject)

22/12/08 05:19 (UTC)
Posted by (Anonymous)
Gah! I’m still processing three chapters worth of surprises here…

Okay, I’m good. Sort of.

Sorry I haven’t reviewed the previous two chapters. I thought I would stop checking every single day, held out for five, and then find three chapters already sitting and waiting. It was like getting early Christmas presents, I was so happy: so thank you for that.

I loved Logan and Dean meeting younger pre-pulse Logan. That scene was priceless. I had been wondering how you where going to do the whole LOM thing with Sam Tayler on the roof considering the jump, and I’m so very glad that poor Logan had someone to talk him down.

And the scene where Logan battles with himself over whether to kill Dean or not; that had me going, “No, no, no. Don’t be an idiot.”

I loved how you had Sam as the one who brought Logan to Dean, that was brilliant, and how Sam goes back to being good and protecting his brother. Whether he stays that way, and how he got that way are things I look forward to finding out. I loved how you had Logan experiencing the pain of the wound from 2019 in 2009. I thought that was a nice touch.

Basically I just love your fic, and am waiting eagerly for the next bit.

(no subject)

22/12/08 15:33 (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile]
No problem. =) That's the wierd thing with my fics. Updating actually tends to pick up the farther along I get. See I write stuff out of order and by the time I get to the climax, it's practically done already. 11's been written since about chapter three (and I'm off to post the next bit very shortly.)

I'm glad you liked the confrontation with Sam because that was the thing in that chapter I really had to beat on to get it right.

Thanks for taking the time to comment.

sorry for the repost

22/12/08 06:02 (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile]
OH WOW! This got recced at spnstoryfinders and I got to say it is pretty damn amazing. I have no knowledge of DA except wiki's summary, and although I've wanted to catch LOM, I simply never seem to know when it's on, but fic freaking rocks!I love the premise and the execution.
I LOVE that Sam's the reason why Logan time-traveled, and I kind of love the fact that Sam became his own worst nightmare because he was trying to protect Dean. I hope his love for his brother will also be his salvation :)
As for Dean, he's just as amazing as usual, and I suspect hat if Show decides to go with evil!Sam, Dean will react very much in the ways you described here.
He breaks my heart, really. And Logan! I love the man. I really, really do. *smishes him* I want them all to be ok. I sincerely hope that this evil cliffhanger isn't your way of *not* telling us what happens in the Lillith/Dean/Sam confrontation, but I got faith that the last chapter [+maybe an epilogue? ;-)]will be just as awesome as the rest.

Thank you for sharing :D

Re: sorry for the repost

22/12/08 15:36 (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile]
Wow =0. I'm surprised someone outside the DA verse stuck with this for as long as you did much less liked it.

The last chapter is definitely The Last Chapter. I'd originally thought this would be the last chapter but that would have been unnecessarily cruel. (and is the cliffie really that bad considering I'm updating the very next day?)

Thank you so much for reading!

Re: sorry for the repost

22/12/08 17:54 (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile]
/and is the cliffie really that bad considering I'm updating the very next day?/
haha, I guess not :). You update quite fast indeed, and since I joined in quite late I tend to forget that [or skip author's notes. which is totally my loss.] Thanks again, I'll be reading the last chapter, then :)

(no subject)

22/12/08 07:37 (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile]

The waiting is killing me .... can barely breathe from the pace and energy.


(no subject)

22/12/08 15:37 (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile]
No! You can't collapse yet! One more to go!

*tries to revive you*

(Glad you're enjoying this!)


last01standing: (Default)

July 2015

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