[Fic] DCBB - Hidden Away - Part Four
Title: Hidden Away
Author: Stolen Childe
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Part Four: I’ll Follow You into the Dark
“…began to understand darkness: darkness as something solid and real, so much more than a simple absence of light. He felt it touch his skin, questing, moving, exploring: gliding through his mind. It slipped into his lungs, behind his eyes, into his mouth...”
Dean blinked. It was cold again, damp. The surface he was resting on harsh against his skin. He sat up, uneasy, peering into the dark that surrounded him. He was in that now familiar half-light of the in between nowhere space that was Purgatory. Dean shuddered.
“Cas?” Dean asked.
“I read it because of Bad Omens you know,” Castiel smirked, it had a wild, untamed edge to it that Dean now associated with Crazy-Castiel. “They had it in the hospital. Seems an odd book for a hospital. You know, there was a demon named Crowley in it… He was… well, not nice, but… Familiar? Anyway, it was a good book. Then I read more books. Bad Omens though, it’s oddly reminiscent of our lives. I just wish our lives ended as happily. Darkness, darkness is something ‘solid and real.’ I can feel it even now. That’s not from Bad Omens though.”
“Our lives haven’t ended yet,” Dean spat out.
“My life then,” Castiel corrected quietly. “My life. Can a creature such as myself even claim to have had a life, Dean?”
Dean couldn’t answer. Wasn’t sure what to say. Hell, he didn’t want to answer. So instead he said, “It’s not Bad Omens, Cas. It’s ‘good.’”
Castiel looked up then, head cocked curiously like a bird. “Is it?”
“Yeah, Dude, I read,” Dean answered distractedly, even though he knew, deep down, that wasn’t really what Castiel was questioning. Dean, with his frequent visits to this dream world began to understand that this Cas never said anything without it meaning something. A brief flash of Castiel holding up the Sorry game had Dean closing his eyes. Even then. Even then he said so much without saying a thing.
“How could I have been such an idiot?” Dean wanted to know.
“Neverwhere,” Castiel said.
“What?” Dean frowned.
“The other book was Neverwhere. The hospital had it, too. It was sad, strange. All twisted up. A world out of a world within a world. Neverwhere.”
“Appropriate,” Dean grimaced. “I need to know what’s real.”
“Whatever you want to be, I guess,” Castiel shrugged. “You keep running away. Going away. Then I’m alone. You can’t play games alone… Well you can. It’s just very boring. I spy with my little eye, something that is broken.”
“Cute Cas,” Dean snorted. “A little harsh, but a cute.”
“You stepped on my stick, Dean. I need that for the fire. Now I need a new stick.”
Dean lost it then, leaping to his feet. “Goddamnit Cas! How can I tell anymore, huh? Is this your weird crazy double-speak or what? Or is it just about the fucking stick?!” Dean kicked the broken fragments, sending them tail-spinning into the bush.
“Sometimes a stick is just a stick,” Castiel replied. “You should stay. I need a new one and I don’t want you lost. You’re hard to reach when you get lost. It’s dark here.”
“I might wake up!” Dean called after Castiel as he began his slow creep away from the fire. It sounded like a threat, even to his own ears.
Dean was suddenly alone. Remarkably alone, he hunkered down against the oily trunk of the tree at his back, pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around himself. His head was buzzing, like he had an angel on a low frequency whispering into his ear. It wasn’t pleasant. He supposed that was an understatement.
It really didn’t matter though. This dream Purgatory did funny things sometimes but he’d wake up. Sam would come and get him and then they would go out to dinner. Sam, Mary, John, Jasper, Ca-No, that wasn’t true. It would only be the five of them, not the six.
“What takes so fucking long to get a stick?” Dean muttered. He surprised himself by realizing he missed the boys already. It had been two solid days where he was sole caregiver and he was a natural. He’d also spent most of his life with someone else and he didn’t like being alone.
At least he was used to having Castiel with him in the dream world if not the boys. He was glad the boys weren’t here. Even inside his head - especially inside his head - it was dangerous for them. Though Cas, Cas was here, even if he wasn’t there. Wherever here was.
“Neverwhere,” Dean muttered sardonically. Where the fuck was Cas?
“Cas! If you’re playing Hide-and-Seek, you forgot to tell me!” Dean shouted, unmindful of the lurking beasts he was always so cautious about. After all this wasn’t real. Right? “I mean I didn’t count or nothing!”
“That’s it,” Dean grumbled, “I’m waking up.” He looked around for something to jolt himself with. He thought of bashing his head against the slimy trunk of his tree briefly but settled for pinching himself in the end. He was nearly at his skin, about to pinch, when rustling came from his left. Dean paused and looked. Castiel was coming back.
“We can play Hide-and-Seek, Dean, but it might be dangerous here. Good thing I got an extra stick. Though I only have so many, you can only break a few before I don’t have any left.”
“Kind of like, bones, huh Cas?” Dean mused.
Castiel took on a puzzled expression. “That’s ridiculous.”
“No, you telling me anything is ridiculous, is ridiculous, Loony Toons. Remember my car? Naked. Bees. ‘Nough said.”
“That was an interesting encounter,” Castiel mused.
“That’s one word for it.”
“If you don’t like ‘interesting’ I can use ‘inveigling’ if you like.”
Dean flinched.
Okay, if you don't like, uh, 'reckless', I could use 'insouciant', maybe.
“That does have different connotations however,” Castiel shrugged. “Though in this case, rather appropriate. You flinched Dean.”
“Yeah, not because of… What you said, whatever that means… Well kind of because of what you said. I just… Memories.”
“Yes, very dangerous,” Castiel mused, overly stern.
Dean narrowed his eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”
“We aren’t having any fun, Dean.”
“No I mean…” Dean trailed off, then mostly to himself, “Why do I even bother?”
Castiel was methodically stacking his gathered sticks. Dean watched for a moment. Searching for a hidden meaning, wondering when his subconscious became so cryptic. Wondering where all these thoughts came from.
Dean frowned. “How long have I been here?”
Castiel frowned back. “Time is irrelevant here. Besides, neither of us know. Nothing can tell me. The sun doesn’t speak, or really even exist here. The animals converse in a language unknown to me and the insects are barely sentient. I tried Dean.”
“Yeah, Cas, yeah. I know you did,” Dean whispered. “That’s funny, I’m usually getting pulled back by now.”
“Dean.”
Dean sprang to his feet, whipped his head up, but the voice hadn’t been external. Not this time. It was just wishful thinking that Castiel had been pulling him back.
“Dean.”
Dean snapped his head back down to Castiel.
“You nearly destroyed my fire,” Castiel pointed to where Dean’s toes where centimetres away from Castiel’s carefully arranged pile.
“Don’t say that, Cas,” Dean said, slumping back to the ground.
“Dean, you needn’t be so sad. It would just be an inconvenience to get enough sticks to build it up again. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, just… More work.”
Dean peered closely at Castiel who was sitting in a crouch, rear nearly touching the ground. His arms were crossed casually on top of his knees as he balanced, chin resting on them.
“Rebuild the fire,” Dean said.
“I don’t need to right now.”
They were silent again. Dean was waiting again to wake up. Usually when Castiel stopped speaking or when he would run off to play a game, Dean would wake up. Dean looked at the sky; it felt backwards and upside, like the dome was inverted above his head. He waited. Nothing.
“Cas, I think I’ve been here too long.”
“We both have. Stuck like this.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Dean pushed himself to his feet again and looked around carefully.
“Never.”
Dean turned and frowned at Castiel. “Sometimes.”
“Yes.” Castiel began to sing lowly, barely audible. “You’re a wonder, how bright you shine/A flickering candle in a short lifetime/A secret dreamer that never shows/If no one sees you then nobody knows.”
Dean stilled. “Cas?”
“Don’t keep yourself hidden way,” Castiel murmured.
“Thanks for the advice, Cas,” Dean said bitterly. “Can’t do much about that right now, can I? Where did you hear that song anyway? Hell, where did I here that song. My subconscious, right?”
“There are things within us that we can’t help be there, Dean. We’ve picked them up through contact with others. Observed them on the street, merged them with ourselves when we didn’t think anyone was watching. Parts of you aren’t parts of you. Parts of you belong to a man whose life you are living. Parts of you don’t belong where you are right now, but parts of you need to stay buried.”
Dean’s hands went cold. “Something’s wrong.”
“I want to help, but I’m not allowed,” Castiel whispered.
“What’s going on, Cas?” Dean demanded. “Why haven’t I woken up yet?”
“Wrinkle in time. People don’t like it. Angels don’t like it.”
“Cas, wha-”
Castiel’s head snapped up and around, he turned to Dean then said carefully, but urgently, “We should run now.”
Dean heard the howls before he saw the eyes, but he didn’t think about it long. He grabbed Castiel’s elbow and he ran.
xx
John was reading while Mary coloured and Sam played with Jasper. The house had been quiet for the last two hours, Sam wanting to ensure that his brother got the sleep he clearly needed. Sam’s personal theory was residual trauma from Dean’s transition through Time-Space and the entire body-hopping thing but Sam didn’t really discuss it with Dean. The older Winchester wasn’t too inclined to speak about it. Sam didn’t blame him.
Sam also realized by now, the body may be older, but Sam had nearly ten years on the soul that currently inhabited his big brother’s body and wasn’t that a quirky thought… Or did Hell count… Which meant Sam had, well… it was more math than Sam was willing to do right now. So Hell didn’t count.
That all aside though, Dean should have been up twenty minutes ago. Dean had a scary accurate internal clock that let him wake when he damn well pleased, unless he was sick or injured. But Dean was neither, which made it all the more strange that the other man hadn’t joined them in the living room yet.
“Hey, Squirt.”
John looked up from the fourth Harry Potter novel. “Yeah?”
“Could you take your brother for a second and watch Mary? I’m gonna check on your dad.”
“Sure,” John agreed easily.
Sam stood and handed the baby to the eleven-year-old. He crossed the living area again, stooping low to comb a hand through Mary’s curly pigtails before heading down the hallway.
Dean and Castiel’s bedroom door was shut. Sam knocked but there was no response. Sam began to worry; Dean slept on a hair-trigger. A knock would jolt him awake in an instant, but Dean had been having trouble sleeping. He’d said as much.
Sam felt a slight spike of anxiety deep in his gut as he eased the door open. He expected a blurry-eyed glare from his big brother, but received nothing. Absolutely nothing. Dean was utterly still.
xx
“Papa.”
Castiel stilled and turned his head south, towards the United States. He was sitting on Mount Logan’s peak, the highest Mountain in Canada. He supposed he could have stayed more local but a part of him just needed to be away. He felt extremely guilty about it, but after what Dean had told him… Castiel let out a shaky breath.
“Papa!”
Castiel flitted away in the span of a blink.
“John?!” Castiel shouted when he landed in the house.
John came running into the living room and grabbed Castiel’s wrist, dragging the older angel down the hall and into Castiel’s bedroom.
“Dad won’t wake up,” John cried. “We’ve been trying for an hour!”
Castiel felt himself go cold at that. He took in Sam’s pinched worried expression as the taller Winchester sat at the edge of the bed, one large hand resting on Dean’s arm. There was a bowl of water with a wash cloth at the bedside table, various noise makers, music.
“We tried everything,” Sam said quietly. “He just won’t wake up.”
“Oh dear Lord,” Castiel muttered, thinking back to Inias’ warning. But no, Gabriel was back. Gabriel told the other angels not to interfere. Castiel was there at the time, he saw it.
“Do you think…” Sam began hesitantly, “do you think maybe we just don’t need to worry? Do you think maybe-” Sam cut himself off and looked at John’s small anxious face. The boy hadn’t left Dean’s side since he was alerted to Sam’s worry.
“Johnny, take Mary and Jass to your room, yeah?” Sam said.
“No! I can’t-”
“Listen to your Uncle, John,” Castiel said firmly.
John whipped his little head around and glared. “You left!”
“John,” Castiel began.
“No! You left! You were gone and you didn’t talk to anyone and y-” John argued.
“John Tabris Winchester. Now is not the time. Take your brother and cousin and go to your room. Now.”
John glared once last time, narrowed green eyes flashing before he picked up Jasper, took Mary’s hand and stormed from the room.
Castiel sighed heavily and collapsed on the bed.
“Castiel, something’s up, isn’t it?” Sam asked. “I was thinking maybe this was just him turning back into our Dean at first but he’s been under too long.”
Castiel looked over at Sam with sad eyes. “How long?”
“He was napping for a little over two hours and we were trying to wake him up for one. So, I don’t- I’m not sure.”
Castiel slumped over and rested his forehead in one hand, the other dangling uselessly between his legs.
Sam was shifting anxiously on the bed next to Dean, only seconds away from raiding their supplies for some dream root and seeing what was going on in Dean’s head himself. It was eerily reminiscent of that time Bobby was in a similar situation but at least then they managed to find the answers and snap their friend, mentor, and father-figure out of his magic-induced sleep.
Castiel was a full power angel, though, the blue-eyed being just had to have some answers. Though, Sam did learn years ago that the angel wasn’t omniscient. Sam loved him like his brother and thought he was a fantastic friend but Castiel, ten times more powerful than either of them though he may be, did not know everything.
“Any hints, Cas? Ideas?” Sam asked hopefully, regardless.
“Just one,” Castiel said quietly.
“Great, that’s great!” Sam enthused. Then he sobered, asked hesitantly, “Is it great?”
“Great in the understanding that it is a solution, yes. Not great in the understanding that it will be a rather complicated solution,” Castiel hedged.
“What do we have to do?”
“Nothing, you don’t need to do anything. I do. Then I need a way to get Dean back home, and quickly. I’ve risked him too much as it is. I thought he would be fine, then I lost myself and I made a rash decision and now I have to confront my sisters. I was hoping this would all be avoided. I really was very hopeful,” Castiel looked at Sam imploringly, blue eyes wide and liquid. Sam didn’t know what to say. It had never been his position to comfort angels before. That was hands-down Dean’s area.
“Confront?” Sam asked worriedly, latching on to that part of Castiel’s speech. “You don’t mean…”
“If it comes to that. So many lost already,” Castiel was pushing himself to his feet, he already looked exhausted. If he had been human Sam would have said it looked like Castiel hadn’t slept in days, but angels didn’t need to sleep. What Sam was seeing in his brother-in-law was all internal.
Sam sighed. “Why do you always pretend you’re all right until it’s too late, Cas?”
“You two don’t need to worry about me,” Castiel smiled sadly. “You have more than enough of that for each other and the children. I’m not human.”
“You’re family,” Sam said, honest and straightforward. “I don’t care if you an amoeba. If you’re Cas, you’re Cas and you’re family. Hell man, we’ve been in a ragtag little group for how many years now? Let us help you once in a while. You’ve the weight of Heaven and Earth on your shoulders. A job like that usually calls for a friendly ear. I get it if you don’t want to worry Dean. He does enough worrying for you with you saying something to him or not, but you got me too, Cas. You should have said this whole Dean body-swap fiasco was affecting you more than you were letting on. I can see it now. You were trying to be cool about it, for his sake but you’re just as freaked out as the rest of us. Regardless of what your Dad says, right?”
“What if we can’t get him back?” Castiel asked, voice small. “What do I do then?”
Sam bit his lip and looked away. He wasn’t about to promise anything he didn’t know the result of but he understood Castiel’s fears better than anyone. Dean was important to them both, the most important person in their lives before they had their children.
“We’ll do our best,” Sam said instead.
“Yes, of course. That’s all we can do. Sam, I don’t say this enough but I want you to know you’re a good friend,” Castiel said. “A good brother.”
Sam grinned, then clapped his hands. “Right! What’s the first step?”
“Perhaps I could reach Dean from within and I won’t have to do what I fear will be the only solution.”
“Go for it. Do you need me to go, or…?”
“No, you staying shouldn’t affect anything.” Castiel reached out with both hands and breathed slowly, it was an unnecessary gesture but oddly comforting - breathing. He placed his middle and index fingers against Dean’s temples and closed his eyes, concentrating. He reached out, slowly pushing past Dean’s barriers, making the familiar slip into Dean’s mind.
Just as Castiel was about to cross the boundary, he recoiled with a hiss. Something akin to an electric charge had jolted him away. He saw Dean’s features tighten fractionally, before easing again into the deathly stillness.
“Shit,” Sam muttered.
That summed it up nicely. Castiel sighed.
xx
Dean stumbled and glared at the inverted dome above his head. What the hell? He groped around beside him, about to grab Castiel again but stilled. He wasn’t standing any longer, the dome above his head was not open to his sight and there was no Cas.
“Dude, seriously, you’re switching to decaf,” Sam remarked, his tone amused.
Dean looked wildly around the interior of the Impala. “Shit, where’s Cas?”
Sam furrowed his brow in confusion. “Cas? Wait… Do you mean Castiel? That angel you were talking about? Since when are you and he so familiar, huh? Hasn’t he only showed up… what, twice now? Didn’t even help us with the Witnesses,” Sam grumbled.
“Witnesses? Seals?” Dean asked hurriedly.
“Yeah,” Sam said slowly. “That’s why we’re driving half-way across the country, Man. Bobby-”
“Bobby?” Dean squeaked.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Maybe I should drive. Whatever, look Bobby thinks it’s probably nothing. But with all the concern about the seals he doesn’t think checking out the Coven’s gathering will hurt anything. It’s probably just a group of Wiccas communing with nature or something, harmless, but just in case…” Sam allowed the sentence to trail off and finished with a shrug. He turned back to his notes.
“What the fuck?” Dean muttered.
“You okay, Dean?” Sam asked.
This was bullshit, Dean was done with this fucked-up mind-trip. Actually, he was beyond done. If Crazy-Dream-Cas was telling the truth then the angels were behind it. Dean thought his days with having angels play with his life were way behind him, but apparently not. Now he was thrust… what, four years in the past? Or would it be seventeen? Or was he still dreaming? He peered out through the windshield and saw the strange sky above him. If this was real, it wouldn’t feel so floaty, Dean was sure. The best way to knock yourself out of a dream was to die. But how…?
Dean groaned. “You’re in a car, Dean. Smarten-up for Christ’s sake,” he muttered to himself.
“Dean?” Sam asked.
“Hang on, Sammy. I’m getting out of here,” Dean replied.
“Out of… Dean what are you talking about. Bobby wants us to check out the Coven.”
“That never happened,” Dean shot back. “Whoever is fucking around in my head just knows how much I hate witches.”
The road was empty and dark around them, fenced in farmland stretched either side for miles down the tarmac. Crashing into fencing would be a bitch, but it wouldn’t do the kind of damage Dean wanted or needed. Maybe if he… Trees. Dean thought of trees, great green fur trees and massive redwoods. Either one would do the trick. Something solid and hard that wouldn’t take the hit but deliver one. The world began to shimmer around him and the fencing remained but also an oak tree, large and gnarled began to manifest a few metres out in a nearby field.
“Awesome,” Dean grinned to himself. He smashed his foot on the pedal, the engine gave a jolt before roaring to life. Dean didn’t release his foot from the gas and turned the wheel, aiming directly for the large oak, through fencing and all. Sam, oddly enough, stayed quiet and focused on his notes in the passenger seat. Not panicking in the slightest.
“Definitely a dream then,” Dean murmured. Just as he was about the strike the fence, the road snaked beneath the Impala’s wheels and curved the fence back to the side of the road.
“The fuck?” Dean gaped. He tried it again and again, but each time the road curved and snaked around, firmly keeping the Impala on the highway. Sam still sat there completely oblivious.
Dean, without thinking, stole a glance in the rear-view mirror, seeking out Castiel to see what the angel thought of this latest development, but the back seat was empty. Dean had grown so accustomed to Castiel just being over his shoulder that the absence of the being set a cold weight in Dean’s stomach.
Dean slammed on the breaks, the Impala fishtailing at the abrupt move. Dean let his head drop to the steering wheel and groaned.
“Are we there?” Sam asked curiously, looking around.
“We’re nowhere, Sam,” Dean replied. The tree had shimmered out of existence again and all that remained once more was the weathered, rail fencing and farmers’ fields.
“Maybe if you try again?” Sam asked.
Dean snapped his head up. “Huh?”
Sam looked furtively around. “I can’t promise anything, but you may get closer. Hurry, before-” Sam was cut off abruptly as the cabin of the car was filled with blinding light. Dean turned slow motion towards the light and heard the all-too-familiar sound of a mac truck’s horn slicing through the night.
It wasn’t the first time Dean was hit by a tracker trailer, but it certainly wasn’t any more enjoyable. Dream or not.
xx
Dean jolted in his place on the bed. Sam and Castiel locked large, wild eyes. Dean began to thrash, almost as if he was seizing and Sam fought against the urge to hold Dean still.
“He’s getting closer,” Castiel whispered, poorly disguised terror in his voice. “I need to act. Now. He’s too close.”
“Too close? To close to what?” Sam asked frantically.
“Being trapped forever,” Castiel replied grimly. “I need to go. But John… I need to go. I should tell him first but Dean’s so…”
“You can’t just leave John again,” Sam said. “Tell him. I’ll stay with Dean. If it happens again before you leave, I’ll tell you. Dean wouldn’t want you to leave without telling John goodbye.”
Castiel nodded stiffly and pushed himself up off the bed. He spared another concerned glance over his shoulder before heading down the hallway to John’s room. The door was closed; when Castiel knocked he received no response.
“John,” Castiel called through the wood.
“Go ‘way!”
Castiel closed his eyes, resting his forehead on the cool panel of wood, then pushed the door open. The only bedroom in the house that had a lock was Dean and Castiel’s. John threw a stuffed dog at Castiel the minute the door was opened wide enough for John to see him. Castiel caught it easily and held it in both hands. He stared down at the stuffed dog’s shiny brown plastic eyes and sat on the foot of John’s bed.
John turned back to Jasper without acknowledging his father further and continued to read. Mary looked wide-eyed between her uncle and cousin.
“Go see Daddy, Mary. It’s okay,” Castiel said softly. The little girl didn’t wait to be told a second time, she scrambled to her feet and scampered down the hallway.
“John, I really don’t have time to fight with you and I’m sorry. I know you’ve been feeling neglected lately and that’s my fault entirely. Your father, though, is very sick and I just wanted to tell you that I have to go away again to make him better.”
John kept on reading as if Castiel hadn’t even spoken.
Castiel sighed. “I’m sorry, John. Truly. I promise I’ll make it up to you and your brother.”
Castiel waited another beat before getting up and setting the stuffed dog gently aside. He walked over and ruffled John’s hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head before leaning over and kissing Jasper as well.
“I love you both. I will return and you’ll have your father back soon. I promise.”
Castiel returned to his bedroom only long enough to tell Sam that he was going. He let out another long breath and closed his eyes before taking wing and heading to Heaven.
He landed silently, to an equally and eerily silent Heaven. Castiel shivered, the air felt cold though he should not be able to feel the air at all. It was also strange that there was no one else around. The space was usually buzzing with activity but it seemed as if everyone was… Hiding.
“Gabriel?”
“Hey Cassy.”
Castiel spun. Gabriel was behind him looking tired. “I’m sorry,” the older angel said.
“Gabriel, what…?” Castiel let the sentence hang.
“Gotta love Civil War, Baby Bro,” Gabriel remarked with a sad, sardonic grin.
“No…” Castiel shook his head.
“Sort of,” Gabriel conceded. “I just… They aren’t listening. Not right now. They’re scared. I think they suspect something might happen and, well… They kind of just made themselves scarce. No one wants to take a side, not yet. I think they’re hedging their bets. Inias has been trying to help me to persuade them but…”
“Them?” Castiel asked.
“Hester. And to a lesser extent, Rachel. I told them exactly what you said I had to, Castiel, but Hester feels how out of sync that Dean is. I’ve held her back for as long as I could but Rachel and her are both pushing me out. I can’t kill them. I refuse, but that’s…”
“The only way, or they kill Dean?”
Gabriel closed his eyes and nodded slowly.
“I thought we were done with this. All of it. What we worked so hard for,” Castiel said bitterly. “I thought angels were done dying.”
“I know. We need to hurry, Cas, otherwise…” Gabriel trailed off.
Castiel nodded stiffly. “Very well. I… I will confront them. Gabriel?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I ask a favour?”
“I’m not going to fight them for you, Castiel. I will not kill my sisters,” Gabriel said sternly, eyes flashing.
“No! No, I know Gabriel. I need you to do something else. I will confront them, but alone. I just… I need you to do something for me while I’m there. Find a way to get Dean and Castiel out?”
“But…”
“We can work out how to get Dean home later, but Purgatory… I don’t have the knowledge, you might be able to find a way.”
Gabriel looked critically at Castiel, measuring the younger angel before him. “There’s more to this.”
“Yes,” Castiel nodded, meeting his brother’s gaze. “If I don’t make it out. If I get killed, I need you to let Dean know and I need you to tell him how to get home. Please?”
Gabriel looked like he was about to object, then thought better of it. Instead he nodded stiffly again and set his jaw.
“Remember, Castiel, you’re an archangel,” Gabriel said and vanished.
xx
Dean woke up into a sterile-feeling environment. The walls weren’t white like he half expected, instead they were a gentle green and what little he could see of the floor was surprisingly carpeted. It looked more like a bedroom but still felt like a hospital.
Why on earth was he in a hospital in his dream? Unless it wasn’t a dream and something had happened out in the real world. Or maybe… Maybe it was a different room because he was back home. His place, his timeline and maybe he was in bad shape and they put him in a hospital for a few days. Sam was enough of a sentimental fool to splurge on a fancier room even if it meant they would have to find some new insurance soon. That was probably it, there was no telling how long Dean had been gone in his world. He was probably back and Sam wanted the best of care for Dean while he recovered.
Dean struggled to sit up, surprised at the strain it took to do so. It also felt like a lead weight was crushing his chest. He coughed, great wracking coughs before flopping back down and groaning. What the hell?
“Mister Winchester,” a young nurse had come into the room, perhaps signalled by something. She had a fondly aggrieved smile on her face. “You know, that call button is there for a reason, Mister Winchester. Here, let me help you.”
Dean flashed her a flirtatious smile. “At least I have a hot nurse this time, last place I was in like this I wasn’t so lucky.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “You’re so cute, Mister Winchester. I bet you say that to all the girls.”
Cute? All right, not usually the response he got to something like that, but he’d take it. She was close enough that he could feel her heat as she leaned in and adjusted first his pillows and then the bed. It lurched into life with an automatic switch and even the gentle slide upward had him coughing again.
“Shh, just breathe through it, Mister Winchester, I know, I know,” she hushed. No assurances that he’d be better soon, just a few more days. Also a little weird.
“Where’s Sam?” Dean finally wheezed out.
“Shh, Mister Winchcester,” she hushed again, gently rubbing his arm. Dean was getting a very bad feeling. He shook her off and glared; no matter how pretty she was she was going to damn well tell him where Sam was.
She squeaked, a little startled, then relaxed. “Please Mister Winchester, you’ll aggravate your cough again.”
“Look lady, I don’t give a fuck, just tell me where the hell my brother is!” Dean demanded.
“Mister Winchester… Dean… You know where your brother is,” she was still speaking gently but her eyes were a little wider, surprised or scared, he wasn’t sure.
“No I don’t!” Dean shouted. “I wouldn’t ask if I knew, you dumb bitch!”
She gasped, stumbled away, and fled from the room.
“Hey!” Dean shouted. He began to struggle in the too-soft bed, machines picking up speed and volume all around him, his IV needle pulling painfully at the back of his hand. He wrenched it out and struggled with increased vigour. “Hey!” Another cough stole his breath halfway through but he fought on. “Hey!”
The nurse came back then, her gentle smile exchanged for a stern expression as she directed the two large orderlies at her side. The men came over and grabbed Dean. Dean fought against them, feeling massively weak in their surprisingly strong grips.
“Hold him,” the nurse said firmly. She approached Dean then, a syringe in one hand a bottle in the other. She pulled the plastic cap off the needle and drew a portion of the clear liquid into the vial. Dean struggled even more fiercely but it was doing nothing to break the hold the men had on his arms. A sharp jab in his arm and then the world began to swim as he slumped between the two muscle-heads.
“Tracy, what’s going on?” A new voice reached Dean’s ears, but all he saw was a blur of white.
The nurse, Tracy, answered back. Dean only managed to catch one word: “Dementia.”
Then the room went black.
xx
Sam held the thrashing Dean firm. He had sent John out ages ago and Mary and Jasper had been put to bed. Sam hated the minutes away from his brother it took to do that, but he couldn’t forget the children in his worry. He wouldn’t. Dean had been still then, silent. Sam was lucky he got back before the spasms struck.
Dean had thrashed violently for several minutes, reacting to whatever was taunting him in his subconscious. Sam had to hold his brother still to prevent Dean from bashing his head on the headboard or side tables. It was terrifying and Sam was very, very glad John hadn’t been in the room to see it.
Dean was still again now though - deathly still. Sam swallowed.
“Hurry up, Cas.”
xx
Castiel was uncertain if his presence had remained undetected as he approached Hester, Rachel and Inias in the Hall of Mirrors. Various images were on display in the hundreds of reflective glasses spaced what appeared to be haphazardly around the room. The centre mirror was currently in use, the focus on the man currently inhabiting it fulltime. Hester stood before the mirror, her hand on the glass. She didn’t turn when Castiel approached.
Inias, however, did turn. So much for remaining undetected. The smaller angel rushed to Castiel’s side and clung to the representation of Castiel’s arm.
“I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, Castiel. I tried,” Inias whispered. “She’s so close, though. Please, look. Talk to her. I don’t know what to do.”
“Shh, Inias. It’s alright. You did your best. Thank you,” Castiel said gently, cupping a hand over his brother’s before gently prying the younger man away from him.
“He’ll be stuck soon, Castiel. You’re too late. It won’t be much longer now,” Hester said coolly. “Trust me though, Brother. You will see that this has been for the best. The greater good.”
Castiel chanced a glance at the mirror and his eyes stung with tears.
xx
“Mister Winchester? Back with us, I see. Good… Good,” it was the male voice from earlier again. Dean found it grating. He opened his eyes to see that the grating voice belonged to a doctor.
“Where’s Sam?” Dean rasped.
“Now Dean-”
“Dammit, where’s Sam?” The fight had gone out of Dean but he wasn’t about to give up asking. “What about Cas… Castiel. He’s here, right? The boys? My boys. John and Jasper, am I in that world?”
The doctor furrowed his brow, checked the chart in front of him and said, “That world? John and Jasper? I’m sorry, Dean, I don’t quite understand. Could you tell me-”
“My sons!” Dean bit out, managing to raise his voice. Then he stilled, surprised at himself. His boys. That was the first time he’d acknowledged it like that out loud.
“Dean…” the doctor hesitated. “You’ve never had children.”
“No, not yet, but will,” Dean insisted.
Now the doctor looked sad. “Dean… Dean, I need to ask you a question and it’s going to sou-”
“How long have I been here? In this place?” Dean interrupted. It couldn’t have been long.
“Six months, Dean.”
Dean’s eyes widened. “S… six? But… No, I…”
“Dean, what year is this?” the doctor asked.
Dean rolled his eyes. It hurt. He winced. “Two-thousand-twelve.”
The doctor shook his head gently. “No, Dean. I’m sorry. I think you’re a little confused, but that’s okay, it is to be expected, considering… The year is Twenty-fifty-five, Dean.”
Dean blinked.
“Your brother died forty-two years ago in a hunting accident. Remember, Dean? That’s why Sam isn’t here. You’re at the Meadow Valley Convalescent Home. You were brought in six months ago after a lengthy stay at the hospital. You have cancer, Dean. Do you remember that?”
“What?” Dean gasped.
“It’s gone too far to treat, Dean, they discovered it in your-”
“No! Where’s Cas?” Dean demanded.
“Dean, I don’t know who Cas is. Is he another brother?”
“He’s an angel, you dick!” Dean exclaimed, then coughed again.
“All right, Dean,” the doctor hushed. He looked across Dean’s bed with sad eyes.
Dean turned, hoping to find John or Jasper standing there, hoping to see Sam, Cas, or someone but all he saw was the nurse, Tracy.
“This isn’t happening,” Dean muttered. “Neither of you are real. I’m dreaming, dammit. You hear me? I know I’m dreaming so you can knock it off!” Dean shouted at the ceiling.
“All right, I’m just going to give you something to help you sleep, Dean,” the doctor soothed. “It’ll be all right.”
Dean tried to fight, but he didn’t have the strength. The drug injected into his reattached IV worked quickly.
“…May not make it through the night,” Dean heard murmured. “Anyone to inform?’
“No, Doctor. He has no one,” Tracy whispered.
“Have Val make arrangements then,” the doctor sighed.
Dean passed out. He has no one. He’s alone. Alone. No one.
xx
“Dean?” Sam exclaimed. “No, no, no, no.” The movement of Dean’s chest had begun to slow. The gentle up and down rhythm that Sam had been carefully monitoring for the last several hours was gradually stopping. Sam had barely left his brother’s bedside and in that time Dean had grown more and more still except for a wild burst a few minutes prior.
Sam scrambled to check Dean’s pulse; he first tried in his wrist, then his neck, then placed an ear tight against Dean’s chest. His heartbeat was light and thready.
No, no, no.
“Dean! Dean! Snap out of it! Wake up, god dammit!” Sam shouted. “Cas!”
xx
Castiel flicked he gaze down to Earth then back to Hester who was smiling serenely into the mirror.
“At first I just wanted him to be trapped,” Hester explained. “I didn’t want anything to happen to him, Castiel. I do recognize you have a strong attachment. I didn’t realize, though… I didn’t understand then that this attachment of yours could endanger us.
“I tried, Brother. I’m sorry. But he has been here too long, this has gone on too long and then you were not there to monitor him. It was dangerous. I couldn’t stand by. I should have realized,” Hester turned then, finally, her cold smile masked with deceptively gentle eyes, “the first time you laid a hand on him in Hell, you were lost. He corrupts. Now this abomination tramples through our doors?
“The one from our world was bad enough, but I couldn’t allow this one’s infection to seep through. I will not risk the world we fought so hard to save. So he must die, Castiel. Hopefully, with luck, yours will be returned to you. However, if not,” Hester sighed, “you have my condolences.”
At that, the cool indifference, Hester’s nonchalant tone, Castiel snapped. He had been holding himself taut, barely reigning himself back as he tried to think, but was too close now. Dean was going to die and there was only one way for Castiel to stop it.
His archangel blade established itself in his hand, the new weight of it still unfamiliar but it was comforting all the same. Yes, there had been much death among his brethren, but Castiel could not forgive hurting Dean, no matter the manifestation of him. Dean was still Dean. The Dean trapped, locked in his own mind, would develop into his Dean eventually, despite the past; Castiel was now certain of that. Their bond was too strong for the Dean lying near-death in their home to be anything but Castiel’s.
“No!” Rachel cried, jumping in front of Hester. “Castiel! Please. How many of us must die?”
Castiel just barely managed to pull himself to a stop before he struck. “My quarrel is not with you, Rachel. You may be forgiven if you stand aside.”
“Rachel, think of our world. Think of the rift this could cause, the lives that could be hanging in the balance,” Hester hissed from behind, her hand firm on the mirror. It was moments away now.
“Rachel, stand aside,” Castiel demanded again. “Do not make me destroy you, too. Please, Sister.”
“Hush, Rachel, steady,” Hester countered. “He will not strike you. Stand firm. It’s only seconds before our world is purged.”
Rachel squared her shoulders. Castiel felt a deep regret, weighty and cold in his gut as he drew back his hand. Rachel’s own blade appeared at the ready, but there was no way she was strong enough to fight him off.
“I’m so sor-” Just as Castiel raised his blade, a blur moved across his striking line and in a jumble of angel-grace, was suddenly at his right. The streak hadn’t been quick enough, though. Castiel gaped.
Inias sat panting heavily, a hand pressed to his chest, though the glow came from a long gash at his back.
“No!” Castiel cried out.
“Castiel! Strike! Save the boy,” Inias whimpered.
“Look out!” Rachel screamed.
At first, Castiel though the warning was for Hester but at the last second he caught a flash of silver. Dread filled Castiel as he realized Hester, at last, had moved away from the mirror and was about to strike. Castiel was seconds away from being slaughtered but Rachel’s warning served him just in time.
He evaded quickly, twisted around Hester’s sword, the tip delivering a glancing blow to Castiel’s side. He brought his arm up and around and in one fierce thrust, drove the blade through the rear of Hester’s neck. Her eyes flashed brilliant, blinding and white, and then she was nothing in the nowhere space of Heaven, not even the burn of ashen wings to show her presence.
Castiel’s cheeks were wet. Hester removing her hand could only mean one thing. He stumbled over to Inias, hand stretched out to heal him. It was too late for Dean but his brother still had time.
Just as he was about to lay his hand on the smaller angel who was cradled gently against Rachel, Inias reached out and shoved. Shocked, Castiel fell away.
“Go! Go through!” Inias shouted. “Catch him before the soul abandons the body. You’ll catch it from within. Go!”
“I’ll care for him, Castiel, now go,” Rachel said just as urgently. “You have seconds. Seconds.”
xx
“No! Fuck you, Dean! Don’t you damn well die on me, you are not fucking allowed,” Sam was kneeling astride Dean’s chest; the green-eyed man’s heart had stopped a fraction of a second earlier. Sam was performing compressions but Dean wasn’t responding. Soon, his brother’s ribs would break and by then, it might be too late.
“Castiel!” Sam shouted, vision swimming; tears ran hot and unchecked down his cheeks. “Dean! Wake the fuck up!”
John was crying silently in the corner. Sam’s shouts having pulled him from bed. He hugged himself tightly, watching as Sam pressed and pressed against Dean’s chest.
“No, Daddy. Please, Papa…”
xx
The glass shards tumbled around Castiel as he somersaulted through the mirror, liquid only on the side of Heaven. Dean’s dream visions of the attractive young doctor and beautiful nurse shimmered out of existence as Castiel lunged past them and grasped the insubstantial glowing mist hovering between the two.
Castiel tackled Dean’s soul back to the bed, pressing with all his strength behind the mass. Bracing the outside with grace, adding himself to it to keep it bonded.
The soul writhed, shivered under his touch.
“No, Dean, you will not die today. I put you back together once, I will do it again. Now please, Love, go back. I very much want to meet you again.”
The soul seemed to keen and purr, shudder then fall limp. It no longer fought against Castiel and Castiel smiled, closed his eyes and gathered it close. The archangel reached out a hand and grasped Dean’s shoulder tightly, pushing more of his own being into Dean’s soul: bonding further. Dean’s soul glowed bright under Castiel’s hand.
xx
“Uncle Sam!” John shouted suddenly, springing to his feet. He launched himself across the room and grasped Sam tight around the waist, pushing him off the bed and closing his eyes tight.
Concentrating, John pushed Sam through the wall. The man cried out, but he was too shocked to fight. Straining John focused and cushioned them both, bringing them to an abrupt halt with his wings before they smashed into the grass below.
“Shut your eyes!”
John curled against the ground, bracing himself over Sam’s head and Sam slammed his eyes shut tight just in time. His lids flared orange red, the ground shook and the glow subsided.
The car alarms all along the street blared. Dogs barked and howled as lights flicked on one-by-one down the street. Sam gaped, John stared. The alarms and dogs halted abruptly, lights slowly began to flick back off. In unison, Sam and John jumped to their feet then ran back into the house.
xx
Dean came awake with a gasp, quickly followed by a painful cough. He sagged over himself, fearing for a brief second that he was back in the dream-induced hell where he was all alone. However, it wasn’t the soreness of illness or overused muscles, it was more a stiff soreness of someone giving him a good beating but him still walking away victorious.
“Jesus Christ,” Dean panted out. “Who the hell did a Highland jig on my chest? Fuck.”
“Dean!” Sam cried out, barrelling into the room.
Dean looked over and squinted up at his brother before quirking a grin. “Hiya, Sammy.”
“Daddy, Daddy!” A tiny, slender body was suddenly hurled at Dean’s chest, easing another cough out of him, but also a laugh. Choosing to ignore for the time being that this little bundle wasn’t his quite yet, Dean wrapped his arms tight around John and buried his face in soft curls.
“Hey Johnny, missed you,” Dean murmured.
“Dean… Dean are you…” Castiel’s voice was hollow and hesitant, he was standing straight, stiff and wide-eyed at the side of the bed, a very faint tremor in his tightly clasped hands.
“Not yet,” Dean smiled sadly.
“God, I don’t even care,” Castiel slumped down on the bed and pulled Dean tight against his chest. “Don’t you ever almost fucking die on me again. I can only shove that moronic transient soul of yours back in so many times!” Castiel had pulled back and shook Dean once before hugging him again.
“Okay, guys, okay,” Dean wheezed. “You’re kind of crushing me.”
“Papa!” John gasped, slightly delayed. “You swore.”
“Yes, I did,” Castiel replied. “Sometimes grown-ups just have to swear, John.”
That startled another laugh out of Dean. He looked over to share the joke with Sam but saw his brother pale and liquid-eyed.
“Sammy,” Dean said softly.
“Dean, Dean you were…” Sam stuttered. “Dean I had to… Your heart stopped.”
“Sammy,” again, just as gentle. “I’m okay.”
Dean was once again pulled into a bone-crushing hug. Castiel and John just barely clear of Sam’s massive arm radius.
Then Dean heard it. He stilled and looked up. Sam, John, Cas and the room were all gone in an instant. Instead, Dean looked out into a lowly lit sitting room or study, a fire crackling merrily in the fireplace. He was no longer sitting on a bed but a plush leather chair.
Dean blinked. Then he knew. “God, I presume?”
“Hiya, Dean, long time,” Chuck offered a shaky smile. “How you been?”
Previous | Master Post | Next
Author: Stolen Childe
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Part Four: I’ll Follow You into the Dark
“…began to understand darkness: darkness as something solid and real, so much more than a simple absence of light. He felt it touch his skin, questing, moving, exploring: gliding through his mind. It slipped into his lungs, behind his eyes, into his mouth...”
Dean blinked. It was cold again, damp. The surface he was resting on harsh against his skin. He sat up, uneasy, peering into the dark that surrounded him. He was in that now familiar half-light of the in between nowhere space that was Purgatory. Dean shuddered.
“Cas?” Dean asked.
“I read it because of Bad Omens you know,” Castiel smirked, it had a wild, untamed edge to it that Dean now associated with Crazy-Castiel. “They had it in the hospital. Seems an odd book for a hospital. You know, there was a demon named Crowley in it… He was… well, not nice, but… Familiar? Anyway, it was a good book. Then I read more books. Bad Omens though, it’s oddly reminiscent of our lives. I just wish our lives ended as happily. Darkness, darkness is something ‘solid and real.’ I can feel it even now. That’s not from Bad Omens though.”
“Our lives haven’t ended yet,” Dean spat out.
“My life then,” Castiel corrected quietly. “My life. Can a creature such as myself even claim to have had a life, Dean?”
Dean couldn’t answer. Wasn’t sure what to say. Hell, he didn’t want to answer. So instead he said, “It’s not Bad Omens, Cas. It’s ‘good.’”
Castiel looked up then, head cocked curiously like a bird. “Is it?”
“Yeah, Dude, I read,” Dean answered distractedly, even though he knew, deep down, that wasn’t really what Castiel was questioning. Dean, with his frequent visits to this dream world began to understand that this Cas never said anything without it meaning something. A brief flash of Castiel holding up the Sorry game had Dean closing his eyes. Even then. Even then he said so much without saying a thing.
“How could I have been such an idiot?” Dean wanted to know.
“Neverwhere,” Castiel said.
“What?” Dean frowned.
“The other book was Neverwhere. The hospital had it, too. It was sad, strange. All twisted up. A world out of a world within a world. Neverwhere.”
“Appropriate,” Dean grimaced. “I need to know what’s real.”
“Whatever you want to be, I guess,” Castiel shrugged. “You keep running away. Going away. Then I’m alone. You can’t play games alone… Well you can. It’s just very boring. I spy with my little eye, something that is broken.”
“Cute Cas,” Dean snorted. “A little harsh, but a cute.”
“You stepped on my stick, Dean. I need that for the fire. Now I need a new stick.”
Dean lost it then, leaping to his feet. “Goddamnit Cas! How can I tell anymore, huh? Is this your weird crazy double-speak or what? Or is it just about the fucking stick?!” Dean kicked the broken fragments, sending them tail-spinning into the bush.
“Sometimes a stick is just a stick,” Castiel replied. “You should stay. I need a new one and I don’t want you lost. You’re hard to reach when you get lost. It’s dark here.”
“I might wake up!” Dean called after Castiel as he began his slow creep away from the fire. It sounded like a threat, even to his own ears.
Dean was suddenly alone. Remarkably alone, he hunkered down against the oily trunk of the tree at his back, pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around himself. His head was buzzing, like he had an angel on a low frequency whispering into his ear. It wasn’t pleasant. He supposed that was an understatement.
It really didn’t matter though. This dream Purgatory did funny things sometimes but he’d wake up. Sam would come and get him and then they would go out to dinner. Sam, Mary, John, Jasper, Ca-No, that wasn’t true. It would only be the five of them, not the six.
“What takes so fucking long to get a stick?” Dean muttered. He surprised himself by realizing he missed the boys already. It had been two solid days where he was sole caregiver and he was a natural. He’d also spent most of his life with someone else and he didn’t like being alone.
At least he was used to having Castiel with him in the dream world if not the boys. He was glad the boys weren’t here. Even inside his head - especially inside his head - it was dangerous for them. Though Cas, Cas was here, even if he wasn’t there. Wherever here was.
“Neverwhere,” Dean muttered sardonically. Where the fuck was Cas?
“Cas! If you’re playing Hide-and-Seek, you forgot to tell me!” Dean shouted, unmindful of the lurking beasts he was always so cautious about. After all this wasn’t real. Right? “I mean I didn’t count or nothing!”
“That’s it,” Dean grumbled, “I’m waking up.” He looked around for something to jolt himself with. He thought of bashing his head against the slimy trunk of his tree briefly but settled for pinching himself in the end. He was nearly at his skin, about to pinch, when rustling came from his left. Dean paused and looked. Castiel was coming back.
“We can play Hide-and-Seek, Dean, but it might be dangerous here. Good thing I got an extra stick. Though I only have so many, you can only break a few before I don’t have any left.”
“Kind of like, bones, huh Cas?” Dean mused.
Castiel took on a puzzled expression. “That’s ridiculous.”
“No, you telling me anything is ridiculous, is ridiculous, Loony Toons. Remember my car? Naked. Bees. ‘Nough said.”
“That was an interesting encounter,” Castiel mused.
“That’s one word for it.”
“If you don’t like ‘interesting’ I can use ‘inveigling’ if you like.”
Dean flinched.
Okay, if you don't like, uh, 'reckless', I could use 'insouciant', maybe.
“That does have different connotations however,” Castiel shrugged. “Though in this case, rather appropriate. You flinched Dean.”
“Yeah, not because of… What you said, whatever that means… Well kind of because of what you said. I just… Memories.”
“Yes, very dangerous,” Castiel mused, overly stern.
Dean narrowed his eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”
“We aren’t having any fun, Dean.”
“No I mean…” Dean trailed off, then mostly to himself, “Why do I even bother?”
Castiel was methodically stacking his gathered sticks. Dean watched for a moment. Searching for a hidden meaning, wondering when his subconscious became so cryptic. Wondering where all these thoughts came from.
Dean frowned. “How long have I been here?”
Castiel frowned back. “Time is irrelevant here. Besides, neither of us know. Nothing can tell me. The sun doesn’t speak, or really even exist here. The animals converse in a language unknown to me and the insects are barely sentient. I tried Dean.”
“Yeah, Cas, yeah. I know you did,” Dean whispered. “That’s funny, I’m usually getting pulled back by now.”
“Dean.”
Dean sprang to his feet, whipped his head up, but the voice hadn’t been external. Not this time. It was just wishful thinking that Castiel had been pulling him back.
“Dean.”
Dean snapped his head back down to Castiel.
“You nearly destroyed my fire,” Castiel pointed to where Dean’s toes where centimetres away from Castiel’s carefully arranged pile.
“Don’t say that, Cas,” Dean said, slumping back to the ground.
“Dean, you needn’t be so sad. It would just be an inconvenience to get enough sticks to build it up again. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, just… More work.”
Dean peered closely at Castiel who was sitting in a crouch, rear nearly touching the ground. His arms were crossed casually on top of his knees as he balanced, chin resting on them.
“Rebuild the fire,” Dean said.
“I don’t need to right now.”
They were silent again. Dean was waiting again to wake up. Usually when Castiel stopped speaking or when he would run off to play a game, Dean would wake up. Dean looked at the sky; it felt backwards and upside, like the dome was inverted above his head. He waited. Nothing.
“Cas, I think I’ve been here too long.”
“We both have. Stuck like this.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Dean pushed himself to his feet again and looked around carefully.
“Never.”
Dean turned and frowned at Castiel. “Sometimes.”
“Yes.” Castiel began to sing lowly, barely audible. “You’re a wonder, how bright you shine/A flickering candle in a short lifetime/A secret dreamer that never shows/If no one sees you then nobody knows.”
Dean stilled. “Cas?”
“Don’t keep yourself hidden way,” Castiel murmured.
“Thanks for the advice, Cas,” Dean said bitterly. “Can’t do much about that right now, can I? Where did you hear that song anyway? Hell, where did I here that song. My subconscious, right?”
“There are things within us that we can’t help be there, Dean. We’ve picked them up through contact with others. Observed them on the street, merged them with ourselves when we didn’t think anyone was watching. Parts of you aren’t parts of you. Parts of you belong to a man whose life you are living. Parts of you don’t belong where you are right now, but parts of you need to stay buried.”
Dean’s hands went cold. “Something’s wrong.”
“I want to help, but I’m not allowed,” Castiel whispered.
“What’s going on, Cas?” Dean demanded. “Why haven’t I woken up yet?”
“Wrinkle in time. People don’t like it. Angels don’t like it.”
“Cas, wha-”
Castiel’s head snapped up and around, he turned to Dean then said carefully, but urgently, “We should run now.”
Dean heard the howls before he saw the eyes, but he didn’t think about it long. He grabbed Castiel’s elbow and he ran.
xx
John was reading while Mary coloured and Sam played with Jasper. The house had been quiet for the last two hours, Sam wanting to ensure that his brother got the sleep he clearly needed. Sam’s personal theory was residual trauma from Dean’s transition through Time-Space and the entire body-hopping thing but Sam didn’t really discuss it with Dean. The older Winchester wasn’t too inclined to speak about it. Sam didn’t blame him.
Sam also realized by now, the body may be older, but Sam had nearly ten years on the soul that currently inhabited his big brother’s body and wasn’t that a quirky thought… Or did Hell count… Which meant Sam had, well… it was more math than Sam was willing to do right now. So Hell didn’t count.
That all aside though, Dean should have been up twenty minutes ago. Dean had a scary accurate internal clock that let him wake when he damn well pleased, unless he was sick or injured. But Dean was neither, which made it all the more strange that the other man hadn’t joined them in the living room yet.
“Hey, Squirt.”
John looked up from the fourth Harry Potter novel. “Yeah?”
“Could you take your brother for a second and watch Mary? I’m gonna check on your dad.”
“Sure,” John agreed easily.
Sam stood and handed the baby to the eleven-year-old. He crossed the living area again, stooping low to comb a hand through Mary’s curly pigtails before heading down the hallway.
Dean and Castiel’s bedroom door was shut. Sam knocked but there was no response. Sam began to worry; Dean slept on a hair-trigger. A knock would jolt him awake in an instant, but Dean had been having trouble sleeping. He’d said as much.
Sam felt a slight spike of anxiety deep in his gut as he eased the door open. He expected a blurry-eyed glare from his big brother, but received nothing. Absolutely nothing. Dean was utterly still.
xx
“Papa.”
Castiel stilled and turned his head south, towards the United States. He was sitting on Mount Logan’s peak, the highest Mountain in Canada. He supposed he could have stayed more local but a part of him just needed to be away. He felt extremely guilty about it, but after what Dean had told him… Castiel let out a shaky breath.
“Papa!”
Castiel flitted away in the span of a blink.
“John?!” Castiel shouted when he landed in the house.
John came running into the living room and grabbed Castiel’s wrist, dragging the older angel down the hall and into Castiel’s bedroom.
“Dad won’t wake up,” John cried. “We’ve been trying for an hour!”
Castiel felt himself go cold at that. He took in Sam’s pinched worried expression as the taller Winchester sat at the edge of the bed, one large hand resting on Dean’s arm. There was a bowl of water with a wash cloth at the bedside table, various noise makers, music.
“We tried everything,” Sam said quietly. “He just won’t wake up.”
“Oh dear Lord,” Castiel muttered, thinking back to Inias’ warning. But no, Gabriel was back. Gabriel told the other angels not to interfere. Castiel was there at the time, he saw it.
“Do you think…” Sam began hesitantly, “do you think maybe we just don’t need to worry? Do you think maybe-” Sam cut himself off and looked at John’s small anxious face. The boy hadn’t left Dean’s side since he was alerted to Sam’s worry.
“Johnny, take Mary and Jass to your room, yeah?” Sam said.
“No! I can’t-”
“Listen to your Uncle, John,” Castiel said firmly.
John whipped his little head around and glared. “You left!”
“John,” Castiel began.
“No! You left! You were gone and you didn’t talk to anyone and y-” John argued.
“John Tabris Winchester. Now is not the time. Take your brother and cousin and go to your room. Now.”
John glared once last time, narrowed green eyes flashing before he picked up Jasper, took Mary’s hand and stormed from the room.
Castiel sighed heavily and collapsed on the bed.
“Castiel, something’s up, isn’t it?” Sam asked. “I was thinking maybe this was just him turning back into our Dean at first but he’s been under too long.”
Castiel looked over at Sam with sad eyes. “How long?”
“He was napping for a little over two hours and we were trying to wake him up for one. So, I don’t- I’m not sure.”
Castiel slumped over and rested his forehead in one hand, the other dangling uselessly between his legs.
Sam was shifting anxiously on the bed next to Dean, only seconds away from raiding their supplies for some dream root and seeing what was going on in Dean’s head himself. It was eerily reminiscent of that time Bobby was in a similar situation but at least then they managed to find the answers and snap their friend, mentor, and father-figure out of his magic-induced sleep.
Castiel was a full power angel, though, the blue-eyed being just had to have some answers. Though, Sam did learn years ago that the angel wasn’t omniscient. Sam loved him like his brother and thought he was a fantastic friend but Castiel, ten times more powerful than either of them though he may be, did not know everything.
“Any hints, Cas? Ideas?” Sam asked hopefully, regardless.
“Just one,” Castiel said quietly.
“Great, that’s great!” Sam enthused. Then he sobered, asked hesitantly, “Is it great?”
“Great in the understanding that it is a solution, yes. Not great in the understanding that it will be a rather complicated solution,” Castiel hedged.
“What do we have to do?”
“Nothing, you don’t need to do anything. I do. Then I need a way to get Dean back home, and quickly. I’ve risked him too much as it is. I thought he would be fine, then I lost myself and I made a rash decision and now I have to confront my sisters. I was hoping this would all be avoided. I really was very hopeful,” Castiel looked at Sam imploringly, blue eyes wide and liquid. Sam didn’t know what to say. It had never been his position to comfort angels before. That was hands-down Dean’s area.
“Confront?” Sam asked worriedly, latching on to that part of Castiel’s speech. “You don’t mean…”
“If it comes to that. So many lost already,” Castiel was pushing himself to his feet, he already looked exhausted. If he had been human Sam would have said it looked like Castiel hadn’t slept in days, but angels didn’t need to sleep. What Sam was seeing in his brother-in-law was all internal.
Sam sighed. “Why do you always pretend you’re all right until it’s too late, Cas?”
“You two don’t need to worry about me,” Castiel smiled sadly. “You have more than enough of that for each other and the children. I’m not human.”
“You’re family,” Sam said, honest and straightforward. “I don’t care if you an amoeba. If you’re Cas, you’re Cas and you’re family. Hell man, we’ve been in a ragtag little group for how many years now? Let us help you once in a while. You’ve the weight of Heaven and Earth on your shoulders. A job like that usually calls for a friendly ear. I get it if you don’t want to worry Dean. He does enough worrying for you with you saying something to him or not, but you got me too, Cas. You should have said this whole Dean body-swap fiasco was affecting you more than you were letting on. I can see it now. You were trying to be cool about it, for his sake but you’re just as freaked out as the rest of us. Regardless of what your Dad says, right?”
“What if we can’t get him back?” Castiel asked, voice small. “What do I do then?”
Sam bit his lip and looked away. He wasn’t about to promise anything he didn’t know the result of but he understood Castiel’s fears better than anyone. Dean was important to them both, the most important person in their lives before they had their children.
“We’ll do our best,” Sam said instead.
“Yes, of course. That’s all we can do. Sam, I don’t say this enough but I want you to know you’re a good friend,” Castiel said. “A good brother.”
Sam grinned, then clapped his hands. “Right! What’s the first step?”
“Perhaps I could reach Dean from within and I won’t have to do what I fear will be the only solution.”
“Go for it. Do you need me to go, or…?”
“No, you staying shouldn’t affect anything.” Castiel reached out with both hands and breathed slowly, it was an unnecessary gesture but oddly comforting - breathing. He placed his middle and index fingers against Dean’s temples and closed his eyes, concentrating. He reached out, slowly pushing past Dean’s barriers, making the familiar slip into Dean’s mind.
Just as Castiel was about to cross the boundary, he recoiled with a hiss. Something akin to an electric charge had jolted him away. He saw Dean’s features tighten fractionally, before easing again into the deathly stillness.
“Shit,” Sam muttered.
That summed it up nicely. Castiel sighed.
xx
Dean stumbled and glared at the inverted dome above his head. What the hell? He groped around beside him, about to grab Castiel again but stilled. He wasn’t standing any longer, the dome above his head was not open to his sight and there was no Cas.
“Dude, seriously, you’re switching to decaf,” Sam remarked, his tone amused.
Dean looked wildly around the interior of the Impala. “Shit, where’s Cas?”
Sam furrowed his brow in confusion. “Cas? Wait… Do you mean Castiel? That angel you were talking about? Since when are you and he so familiar, huh? Hasn’t he only showed up… what, twice now? Didn’t even help us with the Witnesses,” Sam grumbled.
“Witnesses? Seals?” Dean asked hurriedly.
“Yeah,” Sam said slowly. “That’s why we’re driving half-way across the country, Man. Bobby-”
“Bobby?” Dean squeaked.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Maybe I should drive. Whatever, look Bobby thinks it’s probably nothing. But with all the concern about the seals he doesn’t think checking out the Coven’s gathering will hurt anything. It’s probably just a group of Wiccas communing with nature or something, harmless, but just in case…” Sam allowed the sentence to trail off and finished with a shrug. He turned back to his notes.
“What the fuck?” Dean muttered.
“You okay, Dean?” Sam asked.
This was bullshit, Dean was done with this fucked-up mind-trip. Actually, he was beyond done. If Crazy-Dream-Cas was telling the truth then the angels were behind it. Dean thought his days with having angels play with his life were way behind him, but apparently not. Now he was thrust… what, four years in the past? Or would it be seventeen? Or was he still dreaming? He peered out through the windshield and saw the strange sky above him. If this was real, it wouldn’t feel so floaty, Dean was sure. The best way to knock yourself out of a dream was to die. But how…?
Dean groaned. “You’re in a car, Dean. Smarten-up for Christ’s sake,” he muttered to himself.
“Dean?” Sam asked.
“Hang on, Sammy. I’m getting out of here,” Dean replied.
“Out of… Dean what are you talking about. Bobby wants us to check out the Coven.”
“That never happened,” Dean shot back. “Whoever is fucking around in my head just knows how much I hate witches.”
The road was empty and dark around them, fenced in farmland stretched either side for miles down the tarmac. Crashing into fencing would be a bitch, but it wouldn’t do the kind of damage Dean wanted or needed. Maybe if he… Trees. Dean thought of trees, great green fur trees and massive redwoods. Either one would do the trick. Something solid and hard that wouldn’t take the hit but deliver one. The world began to shimmer around him and the fencing remained but also an oak tree, large and gnarled began to manifest a few metres out in a nearby field.
“Awesome,” Dean grinned to himself. He smashed his foot on the pedal, the engine gave a jolt before roaring to life. Dean didn’t release his foot from the gas and turned the wheel, aiming directly for the large oak, through fencing and all. Sam, oddly enough, stayed quiet and focused on his notes in the passenger seat. Not panicking in the slightest.
“Definitely a dream then,” Dean murmured. Just as he was about the strike the fence, the road snaked beneath the Impala’s wheels and curved the fence back to the side of the road.
“The fuck?” Dean gaped. He tried it again and again, but each time the road curved and snaked around, firmly keeping the Impala on the highway. Sam still sat there completely oblivious.
Dean, without thinking, stole a glance in the rear-view mirror, seeking out Castiel to see what the angel thought of this latest development, but the back seat was empty. Dean had grown so accustomed to Castiel just being over his shoulder that the absence of the being set a cold weight in Dean’s stomach.
Dean slammed on the breaks, the Impala fishtailing at the abrupt move. Dean let his head drop to the steering wheel and groaned.
“Are we there?” Sam asked curiously, looking around.
“We’re nowhere, Sam,” Dean replied. The tree had shimmered out of existence again and all that remained once more was the weathered, rail fencing and farmers’ fields.
“Maybe if you try again?” Sam asked.
Dean snapped his head up. “Huh?”
Sam looked furtively around. “I can’t promise anything, but you may get closer. Hurry, before-” Sam was cut off abruptly as the cabin of the car was filled with blinding light. Dean turned slow motion towards the light and heard the all-too-familiar sound of a mac truck’s horn slicing through the night.
It wasn’t the first time Dean was hit by a tracker trailer, but it certainly wasn’t any more enjoyable. Dream or not.
xx
Dean jolted in his place on the bed. Sam and Castiel locked large, wild eyes. Dean began to thrash, almost as if he was seizing and Sam fought against the urge to hold Dean still.
“He’s getting closer,” Castiel whispered, poorly disguised terror in his voice. “I need to act. Now. He’s too close.”
“Too close? To close to what?” Sam asked frantically.
“Being trapped forever,” Castiel replied grimly. “I need to go. But John… I need to go. I should tell him first but Dean’s so…”
“You can’t just leave John again,” Sam said. “Tell him. I’ll stay with Dean. If it happens again before you leave, I’ll tell you. Dean wouldn’t want you to leave without telling John goodbye.”
Castiel nodded stiffly and pushed himself up off the bed. He spared another concerned glance over his shoulder before heading down the hallway to John’s room. The door was closed; when Castiel knocked he received no response.
“John,” Castiel called through the wood.
“Go ‘way!”
Castiel closed his eyes, resting his forehead on the cool panel of wood, then pushed the door open. The only bedroom in the house that had a lock was Dean and Castiel’s. John threw a stuffed dog at Castiel the minute the door was opened wide enough for John to see him. Castiel caught it easily and held it in both hands. He stared down at the stuffed dog’s shiny brown plastic eyes and sat on the foot of John’s bed.
John turned back to Jasper without acknowledging his father further and continued to read. Mary looked wide-eyed between her uncle and cousin.
“Go see Daddy, Mary. It’s okay,” Castiel said softly. The little girl didn’t wait to be told a second time, she scrambled to her feet and scampered down the hallway.
“John, I really don’t have time to fight with you and I’m sorry. I know you’ve been feeling neglected lately and that’s my fault entirely. Your father, though, is very sick and I just wanted to tell you that I have to go away again to make him better.”
John kept on reading as if Castiel hadn’t even spoken.
Castiel sighed. “I’m sorry, John. Truly. I promise I’ll make it up to you and your brother.”
Castiel waited another beat before getting up and setting the stuffed dog gently aside. He walked over and ruffled John’s hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head before leaning over and kissing Jasper as well.
“I love you both. I will return and you’ll have your father back soon. I promise.”
Castiel returned to his bedroom only long enough to tell Sam that he was going. He let out another long breath and closed his eyes before taking wing and heading to Heaven.
He landed silently, to an equally and eerily silent Heaven. Castiel shivered, the air felt cold though he should not be able to feel the air at all. It was also strange that there was no one else around. The space was usually buzzing with activity but it seemed as if everyone was… Hiding.
“Gabriel?”
“Hey Cassy.”
Castiel spun. Gabriel was behind him looking tired. “I’m sorry,” the older angel said.
“Gabriel, what…?” Castiel let the sentence hang.
“Gotta love Civil War, Baby Bro,” Gabriel remarked with a sad, sardonic grin.
“No…” Castiel shook his head.
“Sort of,” Gabriel conceded. “I just… They aren’t listening. Not right now. They’re scared. I think they suspect something might happen and, well… They kind of just made themselves scarce. No one wants to take a side, not yet. I think they’re hedging their bets. Inias has been trying to help me to persuade them but…”
“Them?” Castiel asked.
“Hester. And to a lesser extent, Rachel. I told them exactly what you said I had to, Castiel, but Hester feels how out of sync that Dean is. I’ve held her back for as long as I could but Rachel and her are both pushing me out. I can’t kill them. I refuse, but that’s…”
“The only way, or they kill Dean?”
Gabriel closed his eyes and nodded slowly.
“I thought we were done with this. All of it. What we worked so hard for,” Castiel said bitterly. “I thought angels were done dying.”
“I know. We need to hurry, Cas, otherwise…” Gabriel trailed off.
Castiel nodded stiffly. “Very well. I… I will confront them. Gabriel?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I ask a favour?”
“I’m not going to fight them for you, Castiel. I will not kill my sisters,” Gabriel said sternly, eyes flashing.
“No! No, I know Gabriel. I need you to do something else. I will confront them, but alone. I just… I need you to do something for me while I’m there. Find a way to get Dean and Castiel out?”
“But…”
“We can work out how to get Dean home later, but Purgatory… I don’t have the knowledge, you might be able to find a way.”
Gabriel looked critically at Castiel, measuring the younger angel before him. “There’s more to this.”
“Yes,” Castiel nodded, meeting his brother’s gaze. “If I don’t make it out. If I get killed, I need you to let Dean know and I need you to tell him how to get home. Please?”
Gabriel looked like he was about to object, then thought better of it. Instead he nodded stiffly again and set his jaw.
“Remember, Castiel, you’re an archangel,” Gabriel said and vanished.
xx
Dean woke up into a sterile-feeling environment. The walls weren’t white like he half expected, instead they were a gentle green and what little he could see of the floor was surprisingly carpeted. It looked more like a bedroom but still felt like a hospital.
Why on earth was he in a hospital in his dream? Unless it wasn’t a dream and something had happened out in the real world. Or maybe… Maybe it was a different room because he was back home. His place, his timeline and maybe he was in bad shape and they put him in a hospital for a few days. Sam was enough of a sentimental fool to splurge on a fancier room even if it meant they would have to find some new insurance soon. That was probably it, there was no telling how long Dean had been gone in his world. He was probably back and Sam wanted the best of care for Dean while he recovered.
Dean struggled to sit up, surprised at the strain it took to do so. It also felt like a lead weight was crushing his chest. He coughed, great wracking coughs before flopping back down and groaning. What the hell?
“Mister Winchester,” a young nurse had come into the room, perhaps signalled by something. She had a fondly aggrieved smile on her face. “You know, that call button is there for a reason, Mister Winchester. Here, let me help you.”
Dean flashed her a flirtatious smile. “At least I have a hot nurse this time, last place I was in like this I wasn’t so lucky.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “You’re so cute, Mister Winchester. I bet you say that to all the girls.”
Cute? All right, not usually the response he got to something like that, but he’d take it. She was close enough that he could feel her heat as she leaned in and adjusted first his pillows and then the bed. It lurched into life with an automatic switch and even the gentle slide upward had him coughing again.
“Shh, just breathe through it, Mister Winchester, I know, I know,” she hushed. No assurances that he’d be better soon, just a few more days. Also a little weird.
“Where’s Sam?” Dean finally wheezed out.
“Shh, Mister Winchcester,” she hushed again, gently rubbing his arm. Dean was getting a very bad feeling. He shook her off and glared; no matter how pretty she was she was going to damn well tell him where Sam was.
She squeaked, a little startled, then relaxed. “Please Mister Winchester, you’ll aggravate your cough again.”
“Look lady, I don’t give a fuck, just tell me where the hell my brother is!” Dean demanded.
“Mister Winchester… Dean… You know where your brother is,” she was still speaking gently but her eyes were a little wider, surprised or scared, he wasn’t sure.
“No I don’t!” Dean shouted. “I wouldn’t ask if I knew, you dumb bitch!”
She gasped, stumbled away, and fled from the room.
“Hey!” Dean shouted. He began to struggle in the too-soft bed, machines picking up speed and volume all around him, his IV needle pulling painfully at the back of his hand. He wrenched it out and struggled with increased vigour. “Hey!” Another cough stole his breath halfway through but he fought on. “Hey!”
The nurse came back then, her gentle smile exchanged for a stern expression as she directed the two large orderlies at her side. The men came over and grabbed Dean. Dean fought against them, feeling massively weak in their surprisingly strong grips.
“Hold him,” the nurse said firmly. She approached Dean then, a syringe in one hand a bottle in the other. She pulled the plastic cap off the needle and drew a portion of the clear liquid into the vial. Dean struggled even more fiercely but it was doing nothing to break the hold the men had on his arms. A sharp jab in his arm and then the world began to swim as he slumped between the two muscle-heads.
“Tracy, what’s going on?” A new voice reached Dean’s ears, but all he saw was a blur of white.
The nurse, Tracy, answered back. Dean only managed to catch one word: “Dementia.”
Then the room went black.
xx
Sam held the thrashing Dean firm. He had sent John out ages ago and Mary and Jasper had been put to bed. Sam hated the minutes away from his brother it took to do that, but he couldn’t forget the children in his worry. He wouldn’t. Dean had been still then, silent. Sam was lucky he got back before the spasms struck.
Dean had thrashed violently for several minutes, reacting to whatever was taunting him in his subconscious. Sam had to hold his brother still to prevent Dean from bashing his head on the headboard or side tables. It was terrifying and Sam was very, very glad John hadn’t been in the room to see it.
Dean was still again now though - deathly still. Sam swallowed.
“Hurry up, Cas.”
xx
Castiel was uncertain if his presence had remained undetected as he approached Hester, Rachel and Inias in the Hall of Mirrors. Various images were on display in the hundreds of reflective glasses spaced what appeared to be haphazardly around the room. The centre mirror was currently in use, the focus on the man currently inhabiting it fulltime. Hester stood before the mirror, her hand on the glass. She didn’t turn when Castiel approached.
Inias, however, did turn. So much for remaining undetected. The smaller angel rushed to Castiel’s side and clung to the representation of Castiel’s arm.
“I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, Castiel. I tried,” Inias whispered. “She’s so close, though. Please, look. Talk to her. I don’t know what to do.”
“Shh, Inias. It’s alright. You did your best. Thank you,” Castiel said gently, cupping a hand over his brother’s before gently prying the younger man away from him.
“He’ll be stuck soon, Castiel. You’re too late. It won’t be much longer now,” Hester said coolly. “Trust me though, Brother. You will see that this has been for the best. The greater good.”
Castiel chanced a glance at the mirror and his eyes stung with tears.
xx
“Mister Winchester? Back with us, I see. Good… Good,” it was the male voice from earlier again. Dean found it grating. He opened his eyes to see that the grating voice belonged to a doctor.
“Where’s Sam?” Dean rasped.
“Now Dean-”
“Dammit, where’s Sam?” The fight had gone out of Dean but he wasn’t about to give up asking. “What about Cas… Castiel. He’s here, right? The boys? My boys. John and Jasper, am I in that world?”
The doctor furrowed his brow, checked the chart in front of him and said, “That world? John and Jasper? I’m sorry, Dean, I don’t quite understand. Could you tell me-”
“My sons!” Dean bit out, managing to raise his voice. Then he stilled, surprised at himself. His boys. That was the first time he’d acknowledged it like that out loud.
“Dean…” the doctor hesitated. “You’ve never had children.”
“No, not yet, but will,” Dean insisted.
Now the doctor looked sad. “Dean… Dean, I need to ask you a question and it’s going to sou-”
“How long have I been here? In this place?” Dean interrupted. It couldn’t have been long.
“Six months, Dean.”
Dean’s eyes widened. “S… six? But… No, I…”
“Dean, what year is this?” the doctor asked.
Dean rolled his eyes. It hurt. He winced. “Two-thousand-twelve.”
The doctor shook his head gently. “No, Dean. I’m sorry. I think you’re a little confused, but that’s okay, it is to be expected, considering… The year is Twenty-fifty-five, Dean.”
Dean blinked.
“Your brother died forty-two years ago in a hunting accident. Remember, Dean? That’s why Sam isn’t here. You’re at the Meadow Valley Convalescent Home. You were brought in six months ago after a lengthy stay at the hospital. You have cancer, Dean. Do you remember that?”
“What?” Dean gasped.
“It’s gone too far to treat, Dean, they discovered it in your-”
“No! Where’s Cas?” Dean demanded.
“Dean, I don’t know who Cas is. Is he another brother?”
“He’s an angel, you dick!” Dean exclaimed, then coughed again.
“All right, Dean,” the doctor hushed. He looked across Dean’s bed with sad eyes.
Dean turned, hoping to find John or Jasper standing there, hoping to see Sam, Cas, or someone but all he saw was the nurse, Tracy.
“This isn’t happening,” Dean muttered. “Neither of you are real. I’m dreaming, dammit. You hear me? I know I’m dreaming so you can knock it off!” Dean shouted at the ceiling.
“All right, I’m just going to give you something to help you sleep, Dean,” the doctor soothed. “It’ll be all right.”
Dean tried to fight, but he didn’t have the strength. The drug injected into his reattached IV worked quickly.
“…May not make it through the night,” Dean heard murmured. “Anyone to inform?’
“No, Doctor. He has no one,” Tracy whispered.
“Have Val make arrangements then,” the doctor sighed.
Dean passed out. He has no one. He’s alone. Alone. No one.
xx
“Dean?” Sam exclaimed. “No, no, no, no.” The movement of Dean’s chest had begun to slow. The gentle up and down rhythm that Sam had been carefully monitoring for the last several hours was gradually stopping. Sam had barely left his brother’s bedside and in that time Dean had grown more and more still except for a wild burst a few minutes prior.
Sam scrambled to check Dean’s pulse; he first tried in his wrist, then his neck, then placed an ear tight against Dean’s chest. His heartbeat was light and thready.
No, no, no.
“Dean! Dean! Snap out of it! Wake up, god dammit!” Sam shouted. “Cas!”
xx
Castiel flicked he gaze down to Earth then back to Hester who was smiling serenely into the mirror.
“At first I just wanted him to be trapped,” Hester explained. “I didn’t want anything to happen to him, Castiel. I do recognize you have a strong attachment. I didn’t realize, though… I didn’t understand then that this attachment of yours could endanger us.
“I tried, Brother. I’m sorry. But he has been here too long, this has gone on too long and then you were not there to monitor him. It was dangerous. I couldn’t stand by. I should have realized,” Hester turned then, finally, her cold smile masked with deceptively gentle eyes, “the first time you laid a hand on him in Hell, you were lost. He corrupts. Now this abomination tramples through our doors?
“The one from our world was bad enough, but I couldn’t allow this one’s infection to seep through. I will not risk the world we fought so hard to save. So he must die, Castiel. Hopefully, with luck, yours will be returned to you. However, if not,” Hester sighed, “you have my condolences.”
At that, the cool indifference, Hester’s nonchalant tone, Castiel snapped. He had been holding himself taut, barely reigning himself back as he tried to think, but was too close now. Dean was going to die and there was only one way for Castiel to stop it.
His archangel blade established itself in his hand, the new weight of it still unfamiliar but it was comforting all the same. Yes, there had been much death among his brethren, but Castiel could not forgive hurting Dean, no matter the manifestation of him. Dean was still Dean. The Dean trapped, locked in his own mind, would develop into his Dean eventually, despite the past; Castiel was now certain of that. Their bond was too strong for the Dean lying near-death in their home to be anything but Castiel’s.
“No!” Rachel cried, jumping in front of Hester. “Castiel! Please. How many of us must die?”
Castiel just barely managed to pull himself to a stop before he struck. “My quarrel is not with you, Rachel. You may be forgiven if you stand aside.”
“Rachel, think of our world. Think of the rift this could cause, the lives that could be hanging in the balance,” Hester hissed from behind, her hand firm on the mirror. It was moments away now.
“Rachel, stand aside,” Castiel demanded again. “Do not make me destroy you, too. Please, Sister.”
“Hush, Rachel, steady,” Hester countered. “He will not strike you. Stand firm. It’s only seconds before our world is purged.”
Rachel squared her shoulders. Castiel felt a deep regret, weighty and cold in his gut as he drew back his hand. Rachel’s own blade appeared at the ready, but there was no way she was strong enough to fight him off.
“I’m so sor-” Just as Castiel raised his blade, a blur moved across his striking line and in a jumble of angel-grace, was suddenly at his right. The streak hadn’t been quick enough, though. Castiel gaped.
Inias sat panting heavily, a hand pressed to his chest, though the glow came from a long gash at his back.
“No!” Castiel cried out.
“Castiel! Strike! Save the boy,” Inias whimpered.
“Look out!” Rachel screamed.
At first, Castiel though the warning was for Hester but at the last second he caught a flash of silver. Dread filled Castiel as he realized Hester, at last, had moved away from the mirror and was about to strike. Castiel was seconds away from being slaughtered but Rachel’s warning served him just in time.
He evaded quickly, twisted around Hester’s sword, the tip delivering a glancing blow to Castiel’s side. He brought his arm up and around and in one fierce thrust, drove the blade through the rear of Hester’s neck. Her eyes flashed brilliant, blinding and white, and then she was nothing in the nowhere space of Heaven, not even the burn of ashen wings to show her presence.
Castiel’s cheeks were wet. Hester removing her hand could only mean one thing. He stumbled over to Inias, hand stretched out to heal him. It was too late for Dean but his brother still had time.
Just as he was about to lay his hand on the smaller angel who was cradled gently against Rachel, Inias reached out and shoved. Shocked, Castiel fell away.
“Go! Go through!” Inias shouted. “Catch him before the soul abandons the body. You’ll catch it from within. Go!”
“I’ll care for him, Castiel, now go,” Rachel said just as urgently. “You have seconds. Seconds.”
xx
“No! Fuck you, Dean! Don’t you damn well die on me, you are not fucking allowed,” Sam was kneeling astride Dean’s chest; the green-eyed man’s heart had stopped a fraction of a second earlier. Sam was performing compressions but Dean wasn’t responding. Soon, his brother’s ribs would break and by then, it might be too late.
“Castiel!” Sam shouted, vision swimming; tears ran hot and unchecked down his cheeks. “Dean! Wake the fuck up!”
John was crying silently in the corner. Sam’s shouts having pulled him from bed. He hugged himself tightly, watching as Sam pressed and pressed against Dean’s chest.
“No, Daddy. Please, Papa…”
xx
The glass shards tumbled around Castiel as he somersaulted through the mirror, liquid only on the side of Heaven. Dean’s dream visions of the attractive young doctor and beautiful nurse shimmered out of existence as Castiel lunged past them and grasped the insubstantial glowing mist hovering between the two.
Castiel tackled Dean’s soul back to the bed, pressing with all his strength behind the mass. Bracing the outside with grace, adding himself to it to keep it bonded.
The soul writhed, shivered under his touch.
“No, Dean, you will not die today. I put you back together once, I will do it again. Now please, Love, go back. I very much want to meet you again.”
The soul seemed to keen and purr, shudder then fall limp. It no longer fought against Castiel and Castiel smiled, closed his eyes and gathered it close. The archangel reached out a hand and grasped Dean’s shoulder tightly, pushing more of his own being into Dean’s soul: bonding further. Dean’s soul glowed bright under Castiel’s hand.
xx
“Uncle Sam!” John shouted suddenly, springing to his feet. He launched himself across the room and grasped Sam tight around the waist, pushing him off the bed and closing his eyes tight.
Concentrating, John pushed Sam through the wall. The man cried out, but he was too shocked to fight. Straining John focused and cushioned them both, bringing them to an abrupt halt with his wings before they smashed into the grass below.
“Shut your eyes!”
John curled against the ground, bracing himself over Sam’s head and Sam slammed his eyes shut tight just in time. His lids flared orange red, the ground shook and the glow subsided.
The car alarms all along the street blared. Dogs barked and howled as lights flicked on one-by-one down the street. Sam gaped, John stared. The alarms and dogs halted abruptly, lights slowly began to flick back off. In unison, Sam and John jumped to their feet then ran back into the house.
xx
Dean came awake with a gasp, quickly followed by a painful cough. He sagged over himself, fearing for a brief second that he was back in the dream-induced hell where he was all alone. However, it wasn’t the soreness of illness or overused muscles, it was more a stiff soreness of someone giving him a good beating but him still walking away victorious.
“Jesus Christ,” Dean panted out. “Who the hell did a Highland jig on my chest? Fuck.”
“Dean!” Sam cried out, barrelling into the room.
Dean looked over and squinted up at his brother before quirking a grin. “Hiya, Sammy.”
“Daddy, Daddy!” A tiny, slender body was suddenly hurled at Dean’s chest, easing another cough out of him, but also a laugh. Choosing to ignore for the time being that this little bundle wasn’t his quite yet, Dean wrapped his arms tight around John and buried his face in soft curls.
“Hey Johnny, missed you,” Dean murmured.
“Dean… Dean are you…” Castiel’s voice was hollow and hesitant, he was standing straight, stiff and wide-eyed at the side of the bed, a very faint tremor in his tightly clasped hands.
“Not yet,” Dean smiled sadly.
“God, I don’t even care,” Castiel slumped down on the bed and pulled Dean tight against his chest. “Don’t you ever almost fucking die on me again. I can only shove that moronic transient soul of yours back in so many times!” Castiel had pulled back and shook Dean once before hugging him again.
“Okay, guys, okay,” Dean wheezed. “You’re kind of crushing me.”
“Papa!” John gasped, slightly delayed. “You swore.”
“Yes, I did,” Castiel replied. “Sometimes grown-ups just have to swear, John.”
That startled another laugh out of Dean. He looked over to share the joke with Sam but saw his brother pale and liquid-eyed.
“Sammy,” Dean said softly.
“Dean, Dean you were…” Sam stuttered. “Dean I had to… Your heart stopped.”
“Sammy,” again, just as gentle. “I’m okay.”
Dean was once again pulled into a bone-crushing hug. Castiel and John just barely clear of Sam’s massive arm radius.
Then Dean heard it. He stilled and looked up. Sam, John, Cas and the room were all gone in an instant. Instead, Dean looked out into a lowly lit sitting room or study, a fire crackling merrily in the fireplace. He was no longer sitting on a bed but a plush leather chair.
Dean blinked. Then he knew. “God, I presume?”
“Hiya, Dean, long time,” Chuck offered a shaky smile. “How you been?”
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