A raindrop rolled down the window.

Dean stared at it as he drank his coffee, mesmirised. As he sat waiting for Sam to come back to their crappy motel room with some junk food breakfast.

He let out a small sigh, although he loved fighting evil and protecting those who needed it, he yearned for an actual home. Somewhere where at the end of a particularly strenuous hunt he could retire. Somewhere he knew he would be safe and could keep more things then those that fit in his small overnight bag.

But as always he knew the job would always come first, always stop him from being normal.

It was then that the motel door banged open and Sam walked in, dean noticed that his normal shaggy hair was getting more then a little unruly. Dean smiled a small smile, it was just like his little brother to not notice and forgo a haircut. It reminded him of the times when they were kids always moving around and dean was left with the responsibility of making sure he and his little brother looked half decent. Every few months or so he'd take himself and Sam to a local barber, nothing fancy just a bog standard cut, the complaining from Sam was unreal. Normally he never put up much of a fight about things but when it came to getting his hair cut he'd start complaining and a few occasions crying.

Sam lifted an eyebrow at him, "What's up with you?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing just thinking of when we were kids."

"That's not what I was asking about, I mean why you staring out the window so hard?" Sam yet again enquired.

"Just looking at the raindrops, running down the window."

"Yeah, it's strange but they almost look like angles tears…." Sam trailed off.

Dean groaned he knew what Sam was getting at. The fact that since the night that Castiel had saved their lives by throwing himself to the demons, to let them escape, they hadn't seen him or heard anything from him.

Dean had prayed more times then he wished to count, Sam praying at least a dozen more.

"What dean? Why did you groan?"

" 'Cause Sam I know what your trying to get at, look I'm sure Cas is fine. It's not like a few lower class demons can kill an angel without someone hearing about it."

"Then what happened to him Dean? Tell me that"

"I don't know. Ok? I just… I just hope he's ok", dean grimaced he didn't want to let on to Sam just how much he missed Cas. The thought of never seeing Cas again, with his tan trench coat, crumpled suit and those deep eyes that he, himself could easily get lost in thinking of this made his heart contract and caused tears to swell. He turned from Sam and with the back of his hand wiped the moisture from his eyes. He stalked past the bag of donuts on the table and began gathering up his things, ready to hit the road and move onto the next town.

Sam noticed how dean didn't even glance at the food, he said nothing packed his things and thought of how his brother so obviously missed Cas. No matter how much they may deny it, he knew that his brother and the angel had shared a connection whether they were aware of it or not. The conversations they could have without a single word passing and how eventually neither said anything about personal space. He signed inwardly he knew how upset dean was and how lost he seemed without the angel.

By that evening they'd reached yet another town and were signed into yet another crappy motel with yet another hunt on their hands. The next morning they enquired about the case. It seemed like just another run of the mill ghost haunting, with it being in an old farmhouse, handful of eyewitness accounts and a dead body. But no record of the supposed female ghost living there, no record of her visiting there and in fact no record of the woman existing so no grave and no known reason for her to haunt. As Dean listened to Sam tell him all the details again, he put his head in his hands, he got the feeling it was going to be a long night.

"So how we gonna find her?" Dean asked out loud with no intended receiver of the question.

"Looks like a stake out, go there this evening, armed obviously and wait for her to show up or not as the case could be…" Sam trailed off.

"I'll go get the kit ready then we head out, yeah?"

"Yeah"

They pulled up outside the deserted farmhouse, they got out of the Impala, guns in hands and salt in pockets. After proceeding into the house, Dean took the top floor/attic and Sam the ground/cellar. As dean climbed the stairs, he felt a chill run down his spine. He straightened, and had all his sense on high alert even for the slightest movement.

He scouted the bedrooms and study, noting that the house was from the age of houses having their loo's outside the main house and probably in the garden somewhere. He peered out of one of the windows, trying to see through the overgrown weeds and past the collapsing shed. Upon failing to see anything, he headed towards the stairs that would lead him to the attic. Until then it had remained quiet, but he heard a loud crash from below him. He ran down the ground floor as he efficiently worked his way through trying to find his brother, he heard a strangled cry. As he had found nothing on the ground floor he knew it must have been coming from the basement.

He had his gun at the ready, he cautiously climbed down the stairs. Sam was in the middle of the room, tied by coils of strong rope to an old wooden chair and there standing over him was a figure, dressed in a long faded white robe. It turned to face him as he waked down. Not before he noticed a collection of bones, covered in rags with a foul smell emanating from them. He caught eye contact with Sam and cocked his head toward the shape on the corner. Somehow he was beginning to seriously doubt this was your average ghost as she hadn't even flinched as he'd walked down.

"What do you want you bitch?" shouted dean.

"Isn't it obvious? I want your brother."

"What for?"

"As a sign of my loyalty to give to Lucifer."

Dean cursed he'd known it wasn't one of your average ghost and somehow he was going to have to stop this bitch from killing Sam.

The next thing he knew he was pinned against the basement wall by an invisible force, choking on his words he choked out a curse of damnation.

Sam was still bound but somehow in the few seconds of dean being pinned against the wall, he had gained a few more bruises and a black eye. Blood trickled down his nose, as his mouth hung slack, Dean's heart was gripped with fear, he didn't know how he was going to escape this one. The creature let go of its' hold on dean and as he fell to the floor with a crash, Dean let out a prayer to Cas. Begging him for help, as he was certain he and Sam would die without the angels help. He knew it was almost completely pointless but he could think of nothing else to get them out of this situation. He closed his eyes and prayed Cas would find them in time.

The last things he saw and heard before sinking into unconsciousness were his ribs cracking and a blinding white light.