Chapter 7

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Dean slept restlessly that night. His mind swirled into depths he knew not it could reach.

He dreamt of the many years he had spent with Cas and the immense effect of positivity they had on him.

Aside from Sam, Cas was the one constant. The one good thing that always remained. The one imperfect perfection that took all the bad, and made it better.

Dean finally gave up on sleeping when he awoke from a nightmare, which was more like a memory, of the night Cas died.

Except this time it was so much worse.

This time, Sam's life wasn't on the line. This time, Dean just had to sit and watch as Cas suffered. And that was more than Dean could handle.

He screamed inside his mind until it forced him awake.

He made his way downstairs, silent as to not wake Sam. He opened the fridge and took out a beer. It was 2 a.m., but it had to be 5 in the afternoon somewhere, right?

He opened the top, not caring about the small cut it made in his palm, and threw the cap on the counter.

Before he could touch the bottle to his lips, a loud screech filled his mind that made his vision go blurry and caused him to drop the bottle, shattering glass everywhere.

Dean doubled over and covered his ears. Sam was already half way down the stairs with the gun he kept under his pillow.

When he saw Dean covering his ears and crying out on the ground, he dropped the gun (which did not go off) and rushed over to him.

"Dean! What's going on?! Are you alright?" He asked, worriedly.

Dean could barely respond. "I-I don't know, S-Sammy. I c-can't..." was all he got out before he screamed again. The incessant screeching in his head only got louder.

Sam didn't know what he was supposed to do. He thought, but before he could finish thinking, Dean started breathing at a normal pace.

"Dean? Are you alright? What just happened?!"

Dean was hesitant, as if he didn't believe the situation just happened.

He was about to respond, but instead shot up from where he sat on the ground and started looking around frantically, opening every door and looking inside.

"Woah...Dean. What are doing, exactly?" Sam ask, curious.

"He's here, Sam. I know it. I know he's here. We have to find him," Dean said.

Sam was confused now more than curious. "Who's here, Dean? What are you talking about?"

"He's here! Help me look. Please!" Dean pleaded, totally ignoring Sam's question as to who he was supposed to be looking for.

Sam replied, with more anger in his voice than he had intended, "Dean, I'm not looking for anything until you tell me what the hell is going on!"

"Castiel! Castiel is here!" Dean spoke harshly, but stopped after those four words for just a few seconds as he closed his eyes and bowed his head. "He's here Sam. I know he's here."

Sam sighed and, too, closed his eyes. "Dean..."

But Dean knew what he was going to say and stopped him before he could say it. "Yes he is, Sam! What I just heard a few minutes ago was exactly what I heard the day I came out of the grave! He's here! He's trying to talk to us! Sammy...what if he's in trouble?"

"Dean, I know what you're going through must be hard. I've lost people, too. But you can't just base a belief like this on a freak accident that was probably just a side affect from being in the hospital for so long. I'll look into it tomorrow and see-"

"No, Sam! I don't wanna hear that crap! I know my angel when I hear him!" Dean was taken aback by what he had just said...but he didn't regret it. It got his point across and that was the only purpose it served...right?

"Dean," Sam started. He, too was a little shocked at what he heard, but he disregarded it.

"Cas is gone. He has been for eight months. You need to accept this and move on. Cas was the only thing tying us to a supernatural life, and now that he's...passed...we have a chance at a normal life." He hesitated on continuing, seeing as Dean had let careful tears slip down his cheeks.

But he kept going. "Dean, this isn't healthy. You need to accept this. Cas. Is. Dead."

"Oh, I don't know about dead. Old...very old. But definitely not dead."

Both brothers' heads spun towards the door on the far side of the room. The figure was masked by the shadow of something above.

Neither of the Winchesters said anything, shock and disbelief overcoming them.

It wasn't until the figure stepped out into the light did Dean fall to his knees and begin crying again. Sam didn't have the same reaction, but confusion overtook him. Dean struggled to form words between muffles and sobs.

It was alright, though. He didn't need to speak.

"Hello, Dean." Castiel said.

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