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The brothers were as per usual in the bunker; Sam was digging through old boxes in the archive room while Dean was nursing a beer nearby. Sam held a small ornate mirror up. “Hey, look at this. Ever seen it before?” Dean shrugged. “It looks like Snow White’s makeup compact.” Sam rolled his eyes, snorting. “It says on the back it was recovered from a cursed house in Ohio. Victims had dreams which drove them mad.” Dean scoffed, uninterested until the mirror flashed white. Suddenly, everything went quiet.
Dean looked around—Sam was gone. Sam looked around—Dean was gone. The Bunker was… wrong.
DEAN’S TIMELINE – BLUE-COLLAR LIFE
Dean woke up in a small, modest house. Family photos hanging on the walls—Dean with a wife and daughter. He starred at the photos, confused. “No way… Wait is that Jo? I’m married to Jo Harvelle and we have a daughter? Tripping… He found out he worked at a local garage. The world was normal too normal. No monsters. No hunting.
“What the hell is this?”
He heard the Impala’s motor. Turning around, he noticed his co-worker owned it. “Okay something is off…”
SAM’S TIMELINE – LIFE WITH JESSICA
In a Palo Alto apartment, Sam woke up next to Jessica, alive and well. The sunlight was pouring in. She kissed him on the cheek.
“You're working late again?” She asked. Sam looked stunned. His hands trembled slightly. “Yeah... I—I guess I am.” He walked to the mirror. He looked younger. No scars. No hunter in him. Then a book caught his eye: John Winchester’s Journal. It sat on a dusty shelf. Jess said it's just a weird old book they found in storage. Sam’s hands ran over the leather. Something inside clicked.
SAM’S DREAM THAT NIGHT
He had dreams of Dean, of saving people. He visited the garage Dean works at, but Dean didn’t know him. He told Dean he drives a '67 Impala. He loves classic rock and pie. Dean’s the reason Sam ever made it out alive. But Dean stared at him like he was crazy. But down the road a lamppost flickered.
Meanwhile, Jessica found the journal again. She read about Azazel. Sam came home to find the apartment burning, Jess engulfed in flames. But this time—it wasn’t real. He woke up gasping. Just a nightmare.
DEAN’S STORY
Dean’s peaceful life was full of awkward moments. His daughter asked about ghosts. His wife said he used to talk in his sleep—about monsters. Then he found a box in the attic; hunts he’s never gone on, polaroids of people he doesn’t remember saving. The name "Sam" scribbled on old notes. At night, he sat in the garage staring at the Impala. Then hears Jo’s voice leaning in the doorframe. She’s still a bartender in this world.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, love.” She nudged his shoulder. Dean sighed. “You died in my arms once.” She slapped him but then sat with him. “You gotta wake up Dean… I’m just the guide. This world isn’t real, it holds what your heart desires the most.”
Suddenly another white flash happened.
Dean saw Jo disappear before his eyes. Sam opened the journal and heard Dean’s voice calling him. They woke up back in the Bunker. Together. But they’re different. Quiet. Shaken.
“We were in other lives.” Dean realized.
“We had everything and we also lost everything.” Sam concluded.
They sat in the Bunker’s war room—just the two of them. They’ve all seen what life could have been.
Dean sat alone with a beer, pensive. Jo’s photo in hand. Sam approached with a beer in hand as well, sitting beside him.
“You ever wonder if we made the wrong choice?” “Every day. But if we hadn’t—we wouldn’t be us. We carry all of it but we keep going.”