Sitting in a diner outside Sioux Falls, Sam watched his brother from across a checker- patterned table, staring blankly down at a slice of apple pie. It had been three months since their big show down with Castiel, and Dean still hadn't fully recovered from it. He dazed a lot more than Sam was used to and when Sam asked him about it, Dean usually snuffed out the occasional "I'm fine" before returning to his daze. Sure, Sam had been wounded by their friend's betrayal, but he had not been as profoundly close with Castiel, not like his scarred brother. Dean was never good at making friends in the first place, too concerned that making friends also meant taking complete responsibility for their safety. Dean worried about Castiel but not in the same capacity as he worried for his ex-girlfriend, Lisa or even her son, Ben. Castiel was an angel and did not need constant protection so Dean felt freed for once of this burden. He finally had someone in his life that was not vulnerable to his screw-ups.
However, three months ago, Dean experienced firsthand what a friendship could endure before it went far beyond the breaking point.
Trust. Faith. Love.
This was the trinity of a friendship.
By the end, the trinity had come apart piece by piece leaving only the thin line between love and hate. Love, they all learned, was not enough. Purpose and the greater good were love's final defeat so when Castiel broke down the wall inside Sam's head as a way to stall the brothers in their pursuit of him, the thin line vanished and hatred was the result.
For several weeks after the showdown, Dean continued to rail about how he was going to kill that "son of a bitch angel!"
As time moved forward, however, Dean's railing descended into deep, soul-searching silence until after a couple months, he could be found staring off into nothingness. Sam was more than worried about him at this point but no matter what he tried to do, he could not pull Dean out of it. The only thing that gave Dean a temporary fix was hunting. He always perked up when he found a job or Sam made mention of one. For that few days, Dean was contented to abandon his thoughts and focus all his attention on hunting evil.
Luckily for Sam, he had found a job, though it wasn't in the usual area. He read the news on his tablet as Dean picked at his pie with his fork. Sam was hoping that he would at least take a bite, but Dean simply dropped the fork on the table and pushed the pie away from him. "Dean?" Sam called.
"I'm goin back to the motel," he muttered, getting out of his seat to grab his jacket before making his way to the door.
"Dean, I found something," Sam called again.
Dean turned to face him, brightening just a little. "A job?"
"Looks like," Sam said, examining the article. "Strange deaths are occurring in a remote part of Vancouver—people are just keeling over—no explanation, no nothing."
"Vancouver?" Dean repeated, taking his seat back. "Isn't that…"
"Canada, yeah. We were there once in a parallel universe, remember?"
"You think they talk about hockey as much in this universe?" he asked, taking the tablet from Sam to examine the article.
Sam shrugged. "We should look into this. Obviously there is something supernatural going on there."
"Demons?" Dean's voice was a lot more jovial.
Let's hope, Sam thought, hating that monsters and demons were the only things that seemed to put some light into his brother's withering expression.
The brothers' arrival into Vancouver saw Dean coming out of his slump. "Look at that Sammy," he announced, pointing at the road signs. "100 Km to the next city. Kilometers. Canadians are strange." Sam was looking up their destination on google maps. "What's the city called again?"
"Luckless," Sam replied still searching.
"Appropriate," Dean added with a grin to his own joke. "Small town?"
"Very small: less than three thousand people reside there."
"Yep, that's small. And it will only get smaller if whatever is killing the residents isn't stopped."
"We don't know what it is, Dean," Sam muttered as he directed Dean to turn left. A gravel road met them—not quite the welcome road they had been anticipating.
"Is this place in the boonies?" Dean snapped, clutching the steering wheel to avoid the bumps throwing him through the ceiling of his Impala. Sam was too busy reading to notice when Dean swerved, only when he swore loudly was Sam able to grab the dashboard.
Sam lifted his head slowly to see that Dean was no longer in the car. "Dean!" he yelled after his brother.
"Sam," Dean responded, rising in front of the Impala, "You should see this…"
Sam climbed out of the car and walked around to find Dean gazing down at a body sprawled out in the middle of the road. The body belonged to a girl no older than twenty, gripping the gravel in one hand, eyes squinted closed. To the naked eye, the girl could have just been sleeping. In fact that was just what Sam thought when he felt for a pulse in her neck and found the fluttering indication of life.
"What do you think happened?" Dean breathed, straightening to examine the rest of the road.
Sam began searching for any signs of demonic intervention, but he found nothing—no sulphur, no nicks, cuts or bruises. "I'm not sure. I just know she's alive."
Sam lifted the girl into his arms and slid her into the back of the Impala, careful not to nick or scratch any part of her that remained exposed. She was obviously enjoying a sunny day in her khaki shorts and blue tank top. She was even wearing makeup. "Goin to a pool party?" Dean guessed, glancing back at the girl over his shoulder as he put the Impala in drive.
"There's something so strange about this," Sam admitted, sitting with the girl and trying the usual practises to wake her. He patted her shoulders and called out, "Hey! Can you hear me? Hey! Hey!" When that didn't work, he gave her cheek a gentle slap, but still nothing. He bent down to listen to her breathing. "Out cold, still breathing," he observed, climbing out of the backseat to join Dean in the front. "This doesn't make sense. Usually by this time, I would think she would need CPR, but she is literally comatose with all signs of life."
Dean made a face. "Maybe the doc will have more to say."
Sam hoped so or this would be their strangest hunt yet.
They arrived at the emergency—a small white building on the corner right next to a line of similar looking bungalows—and brought the girl in. There was nobody around not even a receptionist, and Dean walked up to the counter to start madly ringing the bell that sat there. "Hello!" he called. "We need help over here!"
Someone had come racing in behind them, face flushed, eyes wide. "Is that my sister?"
The stranger was a rotund girl with tiny features, aquiline nose and wide, blue green eyes. If not for the weight, she would have looked exactly like the girl Sam was carrying.
"Where are the doctors in this place? Where is anybody?" Dean demanded spinning around. Upon sight of the girl's sister, Dean exclaimed, "who are you?"
There was silence as it looked like the girl was giving Dean a once over as many girls often did when they first met him. "I'm Maria, and the girl you just brought in here, she's my sister, Alice."
"Your sister's alive, Maria," Sam supplied, stepping alongside Dean with what he hoped was an encouraging smile.
"You don't look like any of the doctors I know," Maria admitted.
"That's cause we ain't doctors, sweetheart, but we would like to know if they've all gone AWOL?"
Maria shook her head. "It's been a little weird here since last week."
Sam spoke up before Dean could. "What happened last week?"
"You haven't heard? At least half of the residents evacuated because they all think there is something going around in this town."
"Like a virus?" Sam asked.
Dean then added under his breath for only Sam to hear, "Like the Croatoan Virus?"
Sam thought about this, but there were several factors missing like the sulphur residue and the townspeople suddenly acting like monsters and attacking other people in order to turn them. Sam sent Dean a look of disagreement to which Dean just shrugged.
When finally a doctor did come, he took the comatose Alice down the hall with Maria following. Sam watched them until they were out of sight before addressing Dean. "Half the town just up and left."
"Can you blame 'em? It seems like whatever this is is just keeping the bodies intact, but putting the brain out of commission. Who would wanna live like that?"
"What kind of monster would do that?" Sam asked.
"Dunno, but this would be the time to contact Bobby and find out everything we can on monsters and brains."
Sam took no time in dialling their close friend, Bobby Singer, to ask about their recent victim.
"Why are ya callin me if the victim is alive? Ain't that a good thing?"
"She's comatose, Bobby," Sam explained. "Her body is alive and well, but it's her brain that's inactive or… something like that."
"You think a monster is suckin on brain juice?"
"It's the only explanation at the moment. Can you check it out?"
"Yeah, but if you get any other leads, let me know."
"Thanks Bobby."
"You two idgits be careful, and don't be getting yourselves stuck in it, understand me?"
"Loud and clear, Bobby," Dean hollered, obviously having heard that gruff, paternal voice.
"Especially you, Dean!" Bobby added before hanging up.
The brothers went over more info at the closest tavern, occupied by barely anyone. Two women hung around near the back by the pool tables, and one man drank deeply from a wide rimmed glass at the bar, but other than that, they were alone. "This doesn't make sense. There have been seven occurrences in this week alone. According to one doctor, all the victims are alive and seem healthy, but…"
Dean was nursing a beer but still managed to chime in, "lemme guess, the brain was out of commission?"
"That's what doesn't make sense. The brain is in perfect working order. For all intents and purposes, these people should be perfectly fine."
"So we're not looking for a brain sucker?" Dean inquired, taking Sam's tablet from him. "What the hell?"
"Something else is going on here, Dean. If this is a virus, we've got our work cut out for us."
"If this is a virus, we need to get gone before we end up like all these sleeping beauties."
"Dean…"
"We deal with the supernatural, Sammy; we're not disease control. We have already overstayed our welcome."
"What if it's a creature? What if through Cas's transformation…"
"Can we not go there?"
"Where?"
"You know where," snuffed Dean, slamming his beer down onto the table.
"Should I just say, you know who and make you feel better," Sam muttered sarcastically. "Come on, man, it's been three months…"
"Yeah well, he broke down the giant wall of Sam so excuse me if I don't wanna mention his name quite yet. Slimy bastard."
"Fine, the slimy bastard's transformation from God back to… angel might have released some kind of new entity, something we have never come up against before. Dean, we can't just leave here, especially when we're not sure."
Dean sighed heavily, finishing his beer, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt and rising to glance over at the pool tables. "Well call Bobby again, let him know what we found out. Meantime, I'm gonna just…" he motioned to the pool tables before getting up and walking over to them. He was immediately welcomed by the two women.
Sam decided that calling Bobby was the best idea.
"Now it's not a brain sucker? Well then what is it?"
"You got me, Bobby. What else is there besides the body keeping someone alive?"
Bobby hesitated a moment. "I have one suggestion…"
"What is it?" Sam asked, but when he looked over at the pool tables he caught sight of one of the women pinning Dean to the edge of their table and kissing him fiercely. "One sec, Bobby," he excused, holding his cell phone away from his ear to yell, "Dean!"
The woman eased back from Dean, crossed her arms, grinned and exited with the words, "See you later, cowboy." Sam was temporarily gawp mouthed as the woman with flowing red hair and amber eyes brushed past him. The other woman with them skulked away as though she had been snubbed.
"Oh Sammy," Dean drawled, gripping to the edge of the table behind him. "All I can say is: I'm glad we stopped in."
"Right," muttered Sam. "Well, I have Bobby on the phone and he has an idea about what might be happening." He returned to his phone. "What were you gonna say, Bobby?"
"You aren't gonna like it," Bobby said after a pause and some distant chewing. He was obviously in the middle of a meal.
"Why?"
"Because… you might need some "divine" help, if you catch my drift."
"Divine…"
"NO!" Dean hollered, overhearing the conversation and catching on even before Sam could. "Bobby, we have had enough divine help to last us a friggin lifetime. Whatever it is, I'm sure we can take it down."
"That's just it, I don't know what it is," Bobby argued loud enough for both to hear. "But by the sounds of things, whatever it is, is munching on souls. I can't think of another reason why the bodies would be intact."
"I thought you can't live without your soul," Sam debated.
"You did," Dean added.
"Those were special circumstances. Obviously, Ca…" the glare he received from Dean rerouted his words, "the slimy bastard..." Dean nodded in approval, "Obviously he had a hand in the separation of my body from my soul. This monster would not act with that kind of delicacy, right?"
"Makes as much sense as it's gonna make," Bobby said in a tone of defeat. "I'll keep digging, but you two be careful. Try to find some kind of connection."
"Will do," Dean called.
Dean and Sam returned to their table, but Dean did not sit down—instead he swayed a little on the spot. With a gasp, he grabbed the back of his chair. "Jesus," he cursed.
"Too much alcohol?" Sam joked, grabbing Dean's empty beer bottle.
"Nah, I bet it's those wings we had a while ago. I knew they tasted funny."
"We should get goin, anyway," Sam suggested, snatching his jacket off the back of the chair. On their way out, Sam stopped. "I know this is gonna sound…"
"Forget it," Dean ordered.
"Dean, this is way beyond our pay grade. What if we're dealing with another power hungry angel? We can't do this alone."
"Sam! I would rather poke my own eyes out then call that slimy bastard for help ever again, got me? End of discussion."
Halfway to the motel where they were staying and Dean pulled to the side of the road. "Damn food poisoning," he muttered. "Come on, Sam, we're switchin places. I'm seein double."
Sam replaced Dean in the driver's seat. Dean grumbled a little more about "the slimy bastard" but moments later, he was asleep. Sam parked the car in their designated spot before helping his brother into the motel for a lie down.
Meanwhile, as Dean slept, Sam searched for a connection between victims, deciding that Maria and her sister Alice might be able to shed some light. He made sure Dean was completely covered up before taking the Impala back to the small clinic.
Maria was still there, but now she was sitting in the waiting room with several other residents. "Hey," Sam called, walking over to the slumped form in one of the hard plastic chairs.
She looked up, eyes widening to his arrival. "Sam?"
"How's…"
"Alice," she finished for him. "There's been no change. The doctor says that she's alive, but will not wake up."
Sam swallowed hard. "I'm so sorry…"
"This type of thing is not supposed to be scientifically possible."
"Look… I know this is hard for you, but I really need to know what happened before your sister went into this coma?"
"What happened?" Maria choked. "Nothing unusual. She's a healthy, vibrant and generous person. I mean… her boyfriend just recently broke up with her and she was obviously devastated, but she always bounces back. Depression can't cause something like this to happen, can it?"
Sam shook his head, placing his arm around Maria's quaking shoulders. "Has anyone called Disease Control yet?"
"No," she choked. "Are you…"
"RCMP," Sam replied. "Dean and I are off duty at the moment, but I've just recently learned that cops don't get a vacation."
Sam suddenly stood upon sight of the doctor's arrival. "Oh, hey!" he called.
The doctor smiled at Sam. "Dean's brother," she said with a laugh. "How is he? He seemed a little out of it at the tavern?"
"He was just tired. So… do you have any idea what's happening here?"
"Do you want the truth?" she whispered, pulling him aside.
"Of course."
"This doesn't look good. Some of these patients have been here since the beginning of the week. There has been no change, and if I were to guess, I'd say that despite there being obvious signs of life, they are technically dead."
Sam glanced back at the wilting Maria. "Alice?" he choked, hoping for a different diagnosis.
"Come with me," she insisted, taking his hand to guide him away from the waiting room. "I honestly have no idea what to do. I cannot even begin to imagine what my patients are going through. How humane is it to keep them alive knowing that their entire life is being held hostage?"
Sam stepped back a bit from the doctor. "What are you suggesting?"
"I'm suggesting the only way out for these people," she said in a voice so broken, he could hear the fragments lodged in her throat.
"Don't… not yet," Sam pleaded. "I just… I think I can help, but you have to trust me. Let me just… call my… partner, and we'll figure something out."
In a panic, Sam relieved his phone from his pocket and attempted to call Dean. "Wake up! Come on, man, wake up!" One ring… two rings… three rings… four rings… voicemail:
"This is Dean. Leave a message."
"Dean," Sam started, heading down the hall. "I hope you're up by the time I get there. Look, we have to call Cas or people are going to die. I know you don't want to face him right now, but he's the only one who knows how to take down a soul sucker, especially if it's another angel. Dean, I'm coming now."
Sam rushed out of the small clinic, leapt into the Impala and gunned it down the road to the motel. Refusing to decrease his pace, he busted into the motel room. To his disappointment, Dean was still asleep. "Damnit, Dean," he snuffed, approaching his snoozing brother to start shaking him. "Come on! Hey, wake up, it's important!" He received no response, not even a grunt of acknowledgement. "Dean," he called louder, but still nothing. "Dean! Hey, it's me, Sam! Can you hear me? Wake up!"
Dean remained still, chest rising and falling rhythmically, heart beating, warm breath escaping from his lips, but he would not wake up.
"Dean! Hey, come on! You need to wake up, okay? I need you to wake up!" He lifted his comatose brother up, holding tight to his arms. Dean's head flopped to the side. "Oh god… Dean… no, no, no! This isn't happening. No, come on, come on." Again Sam shook his brother, but besides the waggling of his head, there was still no response. "Dean!"
Sam's eyes welled with tears, burning scars down his cheeks. "I will do whatever it takes to bring you out of this, okay? And I know you would protest, but I can't think of any other way to save you."
With that, Sam lowered his brother to the pillows, swiped the tears off his cheeks, left the motel, and stood there, gazing across to the mountain expanse. His voice was pleading, desperate. "Castiel… Cas… if you can hear me. I need your help. Dean, he's… he's not waking up. Whatever is happening down here is happening to him. Please… please…"
A voice, familiarly low and scuffed with gravel, broke in. "I'm here Sam."
Sam turned to face the angel he had not seen in months since the transformation. He wore the same attire, the same nonchalant expression, but Sam could see the concern brewing in his eyes and around his mouth. Without a word, Sam guided Castiel through the motel room right to Dean. Castiel stood there, examining the comatose brother before pressing his hand to Dean's forehead.
"Do you know what's going on?" Sam asked, clearing more tears from his eyes.
"Yes," whispered Castiel, but the look on his face when he turned to Sam was anything but reassuring.
"Can we fix it?"
Castiel gave a subtle shake of his head. "No… I'm afraid we can't."
"So… what? We just let him die?"
"He will not die, Sam, but he is far from living."
"Does he still have a soul?"
"Yes… but the energy is gone. Your brother's soul is withering; soon it will be dead."
Sam shook his head refusing to believe that nothing could be done. "Use your energy to save him, Cas. Do whatever you have to… please!"
"There is nothing I can do."
"You don't give a damn now, is that it? Are you so pissed at Dean that you would just let his soul die?"
"You don't understand, Sam. I cannot save your brother because I do not have his energy! Someone or something else does."
"His name is Dean," Sam snapped. "Stop referring to him as though you don't know that!"
"Sam…"
"Help him!"
Castiel's voice broke, surprising Sam. "I don't know what to do!" The two just stood there in silence unable to utter another word. Castiel sank down onto the end of the bed, head bowed. "I can't think of a worse way for someone to die, and if I could do something, I would but…"
"We have to find the monster that did this," Sam interrupted. "That's priority number one. We'll find it, torture it for answers, and kill it."
Castiel nodded, rising. "Where do we start?"
"We start by taking Dean to the clinic. There is a good doctor there and she can look after him until we have finished hunting the thing that attacked him."
"I will take Dean to the clinic. You… call Bobby."
Castiel went to Dean, scooping him up out of the bed.
Sam looked at him with a sudden surge of panic. "I can't tell Bobby what happened here. I can't tell him that Dean is…"
"Don't tell him, Sam. Tell him everything but that. Tell him that the creature we are searching for steals energy from human souls. We need to know what we are looking for before we start looking."
Sam watched as Castiel carried Dean to the door. "Cas," he called before the angel could cross the threshold with his brother.
"Yes, Sam."
"Thank you…"
"You're welcome." In a flutter of wings, he was gone.
Sam did call Bobby to let him know their new parameters, cleverly avoiding the subject of a comatose Dean. "Have you ever heard of a succubus?" Bobby asked, chewing on something yet again.
"A succubus, don't they drain humans of their life force?"
"There's that side of it; but there's another side too: That life force is the soul's energy—all those souls Cas swallowed three months ago, they retain a hefty amount of energy. Without that energy, they're nothin', not worth a damn thing to no one. However, the energy increases when enduring terrible pain."
"Like a break up or… a memory whitewash," Sam piped up.
"Probably something like that."
"One of the victims broke up with her boyfriend not too long ago. It left her devastated." And Dean had recently given up Lisa and Ben in order to protect them. "Is there a cure?"
"Not that I can see; however, my assumption is that if the monster dies, the energy will return to its rightful owner."
"So we kill it, everyone wakes up. Happy ending."
"Sounds about right."
"Thanks Bobby. I gotta get goin."
"Sam," Bobby started before he could hang up. "Tell Dean to keep an eye out. There's no one with more of an energy boost than him, especially with everything that's happened."
For a brief moment, Sam couldn't breathe.
"Sam," Bobby called.
"I will… I'll tell him, Bobby."
"Good. And you be careful too, ya hear?"
Sam hung up, and losing control over his own emotions, he sank onto the bed and cried.
Arriving at the clinic, Sam found Castiel in Dean's room, standing over him with head bowed. "Cas?" Sam called.
"What did you find out?" he asked tonelessly.
"Succubus," Sam replied walking to Dean's other side, and gripping his brother's hand. "We kill it and Dean will come out of this."
"Who is it?"
The doctor walked in quietly behind Sam, but Sam was more than ready for her, and he grabbed her arms. "Shut the door, Cas!" He screamed.
Castiel did so without even an ounce of hesitance. "Are you two out of your minds?" The doctor laughed, struggling against Sam's powerful grip.
"Why did you kiss my brother tonight?"
"What?"
"I watched you. You kissed him against one of the pool tables. Why?"
"Because he's freakin hot," she replied. "Let me go now, please, or I will be forced to call the cops."
Castiel stepped alongside Sam in a calm manner. "Sam let her go," he ordered.
"No," Sam protested angrily. "If I kill her now, Dean will live."
"Sam… trust me," Castiel implored.
Sam slowly, reluctantly let go of the doctor, allowing Castiel full reign. "Cas," she whispered, revealing a small grin. "You're Cas."
"Castiel, and you must be the monster we're looking for."
"Well, this is a surprise. Dean looked so… well, never mind. Look, all your attractive ass needs to know is that if you kill me, Dean's soul will still die."
"Fine… how do we save his soul?"
"You're Cas?" she repeated.
"Castiel," he corrected yet again, "And answer the question."
"He needs a prince charming. Unfortunately they all do. Problem is: everyone's prince or princess decided to abandon them."
Sam stepped in, shaking with anger. "So you chose victims who lost someone they loved, broke up with someone."
"Why do they need a prince… charming?" Castiel interrogated further, pressing one hand to Sam's tense shoulder.
"Have you never seen Sleeping Beauty?" Castiel's expression was of complete confusion. "Oh, honey, you need to get out and watch a movie every once in a while."
"What's your point?" Castiel snapped.
"My point is: Dean is not getting his energy back without a kiss."
"A kiss?"
"Yes, you know…" The succubus leaned close to Castiel in order to demonstrate, but he moved back. "A kiss. It's how I got the energy—and it is only transferrable in that way."
"Fine, kiss him and give it back," Sam growled, eyeing her.
"That's not how it works, my tall and terribly attractive cutie. It has to be a very specific kind of kiss."
"Spill or die," Castiel commanded, bringing his hand to her forehead threateningly.
"If I die, he will be no more."
Castiel nodded. "You raise a good point; here's another." Without warning, he plunged his fist deep into her chest. "Tell us what kind of kiss will save Dean."
The succubus screamed and Castiel released her. "Oh my god, you are a naughty angel," she breathed.
"Tell us!"
"True love," she coughed.
"What does that mean?" Sam added in frustration.
"The kiss has to be one of true love—purity." She grinned at Castiel, "Cas, may I call you Cas?"
"No," he grunted.
"Fine. Castiel then, the ripest and richest soul is the one that has endured pain due to love. Dean here still loves the one who broke his heart even though he tends to hide it very well."
"Lisa," Sam whimpered. "Her memory has been wiped clean of him. She can't help us."
"Lisa?" Laughed the succubus, "Pardon my asking, but who's Lisa?"
"She is… Dean's… true love," Castiel replied in a voice of stone.
The succubus laughed again. "Oh! You don't get it. Lisa is not the name that penetrates deep into Dean's soul—well, besides Sam—but there are obvious reasons for that."
"You're lying, aren't you?" Sam attacked.
"What do I have to gain by lying, Sammy? And yeah, he will forever call you that; that is also engraved in his energetic soul."
"If it is not Lisa, then who are you talking about?" Castiel demanded, frown deepening, anger boiling.
"Honestly? It's you. You know, every time he uttered the name Cas, I was sure that was short for Cassandra or Cassie or something feminine like that. I never would have thought…"
"What makes you think it's me?" Castiel cut her off.
"Because even right now, his energy is responding to your presence. The extra bursts of energy I'm receiving at this very moment are… breathtaking."
Sam stared at Castiel for as long as it was possible to stare without blinking, but Castiel refused to acknowledge it. The succubus continued. "You, angel, are all he ever thinks about. His deepest regret is his loss of faith in you; his worst moment was when you betrayed him. Dean Winchester, he is tough like a brick wall, but you… you brought it down. He loved you without any warning. Don't get me wrong, this isn't sexual love, because trust me that well runs dry in just a few hours. No, this is true love. This love continues to enrich the soul because it will never die. I just need to look at you and I can feel the energy recharging. By being this for him, you have saved his life again and again and again. Must make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, eh, Castiel?"
Castiel thrust his fist deep into the succubus once again, resulting in a scream. "What are you doing? Stop that!"
"You said the energy of his soul responds to me. I should be able to take it from you."
"I wasn't inviting you to steal my energy."
"Too bad."
Afterward, Castiel stumbled back. Sam caught his arm instinctively. "Cas?"
"She wasn't lying," he gasped.
The succubus was laughing now. "Intrusive little slimy bastard, aren't you?"
"So… Dean loves you?" Sam choked.
Castiel straightened, breathing heavily. "Yes."
"He's still gonna die—the soul is already a beat away from death. Dean may love the hell out of you, angel, but you don't feel the same. You resent him for losing faith, for plotting against you, for… hurting your feelings."
"Shut up," Castiel growled, facing her.
"Now that you have all that energy, it will haunt you with the knowledge that his well runneth eternal while yours has already… dried up."
Without a word of retort, Castiel grabbed the succubus, putting her out of her misery. The body dropped to the ground in a limp heap. Castiel exchanged distraught looks with Sam before walking to Dean's bedside. "I don't understand," he admitted, gazing down at the flushed face, unmoving.
"Do you hate my brother?" Sam asked, standing behind Castiel's shoulder.
"No…"
Sam's next question was reluctant, terrified of the answer. "Do you love him?"
"Sam, you should leave. If this doesn't work…"
"Then we'll both have our answer," Sam cut in.
"I will erase his memory; he will not remember a thing," Castiel promised.
Sam nodded, stepping back. "Cas… just save my brother."
Castiel returned them all to the motel room, lowered over Dean's sleeping form, realizing when he was barely an inch away that he held no resentment for this human. He forgave him long before now, and came when Sam called because… it was Dean in trouble, it was Dean dying, it was Dean he would lose if he didn't do something, anything to help. He felt warmth envelop him as the hardened mouth below his softened to a touch. The energy the succubus had stolen was slowly being returned, travelling through Dean stream by steady stream. Two hands gripped tight to the lapels of Castiel's coat but not as a way to push him off. He was being tugged closer in response to the returning energy. As the stream slowed, the grip loosened until Dean had been fully restored. Eyes were opening—swirls of green and gold meeting with Castiel's before the angel had a chance to inch away.
"Cas…?" The voice usually inflected with pain and conflict now sounded clearer, smoother.
"I apologize," Castiel started, gripping Dean's hand tight between both of his. "I hurt you and I am sorry, Dean. I don't resent you or hold any blame to you for anything that happened. I am leaving and I may never come back but… I do… I love you." Dean's mouth fell, but Castiel refused to let him endure so much confusion so he pressed a hand on the trembling human's forehead, closed his eyes and whispered, "Sleep, Dean."
"Will I be able to wake him up?" Sam asked as they left the motel room to stand in the cool breeze.
"Yes, but he will remember nothing. I expect that you will not provoke the memories to return. That is the last thing he needs."
"So, you love him," Sam sighed.
"Yes."
"Do you love me?"
Castiel's grin peaked at the corners of his mouth. "We have a complicated relationship, Sam."
"It's not you, it's me, right?" Sam teased, nudging Castiel's arm.
"I uh… I'm sorry for the pain I caused you," Castiel said. "I just… I was arrogant… and I wasn't thinking straight…"
"You saved my brother tonight, Cas. That's enough of an apology for me."
"I cannot save those that the succubus destroyed, but I can release them from their prisons. However, I shall never see you again after this, my friend. I must tell you… I will miss you. I have for three months."
Sam nodded, fighting back a wave of warm tears. "I hope you don't mind I pray to you every once in awhile."
Castiel turned his head. "I don't mind, Sam. I wish you and Dean… a lifetime of… grace."
"You too, Cas."
In a flutter of wings, Castiel was gone
The next morning, Dean awoke just as Sam was packing. "I feel like I've been sleeping for at least a century, what the hell happened?" He asked, stretching his arms over his head and sitting up to face Sam.
"Not much, Dean," Sam replied, forcing his grin back far enough for Dean not to see it. He tossed the two full bags on the floor. "We were hunting a succubus, we killed it, happy ending. You were tired after the hunt so you fell asleep."
"Oh," Dean said, stretching his arms over his head. "Damn, I feel good, Sammy. Better than I've felt in a long time. We should go and visit Bobby. You can tell him about the hunt since I'm really fuzzy on the details. And we'll stop and get pie to celebrate our victory." He escaped the bed to face Sam. "Hey, Sam?"
"Yeah," Sam replied softly.
"We're awesome."
Sam laughed, "yeah."
"I'm just gonna start the car. You mind payin?"
"No!"
Sam paid for the room, and returned to the Impala. In a flurry of panic, he raced around the car. Dean had sank against it. "Dean! Dean?"
Dean straightened. "I… I'm okay, Sammy. I'm good, I just… I feel like something's missing. I didn't die again, did I?"
"No," Sam croaked, forcing a grin.
"No demon deals or crazy rituals performed?"
"Nothing," promised Sam, leading Dean into the passenger's side. "How about I drive? You're probably still exhausted from the hunt. You did most of the work this time and that took a lot out of you."
Dean's head sank to the window. "Yeah…"
"You uh… you wanna talk about what happened three months ago?"
Dean turned his head to stare at his brother. "Why?"
"Well, I thought maybe we could start referring to the slimy bastard as Cas again?"
The look Sam saw in his brother's eyes made his own heart skip a beat. For a brief moment he was worried that he had undone the angels' memory wipe. "Yeah… sure, Sammy."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah… just tired."
Sam knew it was more than that, but now that Castiel was gone for good, it didn't matter. He could only hope that Dean would recover. The pie cheered Dean up a little, but after a while, Dean retreated down to the basement.
"What was that all about?" Bobby asked, placing the half-eaten pie in his fridge.
"Are you sure you want to know, Bobby?" Sam asked, glancing back just to be sure Dean was not standing there eve's dropping.
"Of course I wanna know, idgit."
Sam nodded, took Bobby by the elbow and led him outside into the wrecking yard. There, between two piles of cars, Sam told Bobby everything, including the kiss Castiel administered to the comatose Dean.
"So, wait a minute, what are you saying?"
"Bobby, I can't say it any plainer than that."
"Well, obviously this family is all kiss and tell, especially if it happens to be with demons or angels."
"Bobby, this was different," Sam hissed. "Dean loves someone and he's not even allowed to remember it."
"But it's a different kind of love, right?"
"The succubus said it wasn't sexual," Sam said with a slight shrug.
"Weird," admitted Bobby. "Never would've thought."
"Bobby…"
"I ain't gonna tell him. I just… I have images now, thanks to you."
"You weren't standing there."
"Damn fools the both of you." He pointed to the house, "Well, go check on him, make sure he ain't doin anything stupid!"
Sam returned to the house, headed down the stairs and found Dean in the panic room sprawled out on the cot, Sam remembered being strapped to. "Hey, Sammy," Dean greeted before Sam could say a word.
"Hey, Dean. You okay?"
"Yep," Dean replied, continuing to gaze at the ceiling. "I'm awesome."
"We should get outta here, maybe grab a burger, get real drunk at some bar. Sound good?"
"Sounds like something you would ask someone who's pining," Dean said, sitting up.
"You're not?"
"I'm thinking. There is a whole chunk of yesterday that I'm missing; it seems so important, yeh know?"
"It was just a hunt," offered Sam, sitting on the edge of the cot.
Dean exhaled loudly. "You know what? I'm gonna take you up on that burger and drinking thing. Let's get the hell out of here for awhile. And, maybe if we're lucky, we can get you set up with some sexy bartender. Honestly man, you're looking a little deprived."
"Thanks," Sam muttered.
On their way out, Dean stopped as though he had passed by a familiar presence. "You wanna hear something so weird?" He gasped. He turned to stare at Sam with a strange look in his eyes. "I think I had a dream about… Cas."
Sam cleared his throat. "Oh?"
"Disturbing," Dean said with a shiver.
"You have no idea," Sam murmured under his breath.