A/N: Hi, so, I don't write fanfiction very often. I haven't for around six years, so I'm a little rusty. I've been focused more on my own story, and my blog, and they're two completely different beasts. Especially as I tend to write YA more than sci-fi. However, I recently got into Supernatural, and I really love the storylines, the characterisations, the scripting, the actors ... I had this idea for a story and thought there was nowhere better to put it. As of yet, I don't know how long it will be, and I'm making it up as I go, a little. It's set around the middle of the sixth season, or thereabouts, so my apologies if you haven't gotten that far. This fic does contain language, as I'm trying to write as close to the Winchesters as I can. I appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy it. Chapter One:

The flames crackled as they consumed the dry bones, aided by the lighter fluid that had been sprinkled on moments before ignition. Dean rocked back on his heels, watching as the bones were reduced to ash, knowing that not too far away, the spectre that had been haunting a little girl's bedroom had ceased to exist. When the fire began to die out, he turned around, standing up and stretching slightly. He grabbed a spade wedged in a pile of freshly dug earth, and began hefting the dirt over the smouldering ash.

Closing a grave up again never took as much time as opening it in the first place, which Dean was thankful for. This part of the job took a lot of energy. He picked up his shotgun from the ground beside the grave, and slung it up to his shoulder, wielding the spade in his other hand and walking towards the black car, the Chevy Impala, parked just beyond the cemetery gates. He threw the spade and shotgun into the trunk, and headed around to the front seat, climbing in, and speeding off into the night.

Dean had parked in a field, a few miles from the local town, and had grabbed a rare few hours sleep. The effort of digging up the grave had wiped him. As soon as he came round, he climbed out the car, swiping a beer from the seat beside his, and sitting up on the hood of the car, sipping the beer and staring up at the stars, trying to clear his mind of all the images that threatened whenever he got these moments.

There was a strange sound, almost as if a shooting star had swooped by, and then the car groaned slightly under a new weight. There was a moment of silence, and Dean knew just who was sat beside him. If anyone else had appeared out of nowhere, they would have talked, or tried to kill him. Only one person – or being, really – would wait for him to talk.

'Hey, Cas,' he muttered, and lifted the bottle again to drink another mouthful. There was a pause before his friend replied.

'Hello, Dean.'

Dean nodded. So Castiel was the same weird as he ever was, still as socially awkward. It was like Castiel edited every speech in his head before he spoke to Dean. Even a simple hello. Dean smiled to himself, and sucked down some more of the beer. It was unusual for them to do this, to sit on Dean's car and stare up at the sky. Normally, Dean had to pray for Castiel to show up, pray for help. He hadn't done that this time, which meant Castiel had an agenda, and he thought Dean might be willing to help despite his stubborn streak.

'What are you doing?' Castiel broke the silence.

'Drinking a beer.' Dean spelled it out for him. Castiel wasn't fooled by the show of bravado.

'I like to do this too, stare up at what my father created. I'm in awe.'

Dean bit back his usual retort. A human would expect it, but an angel? And besides ... maybe there was something in what Castiel was saying. Dean finished his beer, and Castiel changed the subject.

'Where's Sam?'

Dean looked at his friend, his cheeks pulling like he was trying not to laugh. Castiel was still staring up at the stars.

'Sam?' Dean managed to splutter out.

'Yes, Sam.' Castiel sounded so matter-of-fact. 'Where is he?'

'And I'm supposed to know who this Sam is?' Dean checked. Castiel turned his head sharply, looking at Dean for the first time since he had materialised.

'Have you been arguing?' Castiel demanded. Dean tried to make sense of the question.

'With?' He eventually asked.

'Sam. Have you and Sam had an argument? Is this some human reaction I don't understand? I thought that whatever your disagreement, you put each other first.'

Dean was losing the urge to laugh. He was becoming frustrated with Castiel's strange questions.

'I don't know who you're talking about.' He spoke as levelly as he could manage with his building temper. Castiel looked away from him, back up at the stars, and sighed.

'I wonder who's behind this?'

'Behind what?' Dean was growling now, wishing that for once, Castiel could be normal and show some emotion, or make some sense. Anything.

'I mean, Sam has to be somewhere. And there has to be a reason why you're clearly not remembering him-'

'Can you maybe catch me up here, Cas?' Dean interrupted, itching to climb back in the car for another beer.

'You're telling me you don't remember anything about Sam?' Castiel double-checked.

'And I'm really hating you talking about this guy by now.' Dean nodded. Castiel ignored Dean's temper.

'Well, this is ... awkward,' Castiel said the word as though he wasn't sure it would fit into the sentence. 'Sam's your brother. You fight demons and spectres together. You have a very confusing relationship.'

Dean was waiting to hear more, but Castiel seemed to think he'd shared enough information.

'A brother?' Dean scoffed eventually. 'I do this solo. You know that. Family just get in the way, they get hurt, they get killed. If I had a brother, I wouldn't drag him into this world.'

'Like your father did to you?' Castiel asked simply. Dean ignored the implication. 'Dean, who did you make a deal for with the crossroads demon?'

Dean sighed. Castiel was in a chatty mood for once, it seemed. And now Dean could understand why Castiel usually let him take charge. Castiel was just plain weird.

'Bobby. He got hurt by that Jake kid.'

'And the siren-'

'Can we not talk about that?' Dean growled. 'I don't get what point you're making here.'

'Someone very powerful must be behind this,' Castiel said to himself.

'I did have a brother,' Dean said suddenly. He tried not to think of this, so much. 'A half-brother. Adam.'

'You remember Adam?' Castiel sounded interested, actually interested. Dean raised his eyebrows momentarily, surprised by Castiel's show of emotion.

'Yes. Lucifer's vessel.'

Castiel closed his eyes, mouthing to himself. Dean clenched his fingers, trying to resist the beer in the front seat. He had that much respect for Castiel.

'Cas? You still here?' He asked, after five minutes of Castiel talking to himself. Castiel opened his eyes again.

'Sorry, Dean. I need you to go back to Bobby, and see what he can remember about Sam. Whatever's happened to your brother,' Castiel sighed. 'I'll see what I can find out. I do not have a good feeling about this.'

Castiel seemed to vanish into thin air, right in front of Dean's eyes. Dean sighed, wishing for maybe the thousandth time that Castiel knew how to say a real goodbye. He climbed off the hood, slipping into the driver's seat and revved the engine. He was maybe a day away from Bobby's house. He would take Castiel's advice, and talk to Bobby about this whole Sam thing. Maybe Bobby had an idea as to why Castiel would make up a whole person ... a whole brother. Bobby was a hell of a lot more rational than Dean after all. And hey, maybe Bobby had found a new case in the mean time.

'Let me get this straight,' Bobby clarified, downing another shot of whiskey. He and Dean had been steadily draining the bottle since Dean had arrived with the news of his latest meeting with Castiel. 'You have a brother. Neither of us remember a thing about him. And the only person who remembers is an angel?'

Dean nodded once, holding his hands out to show he was just as baffled as Bobby. Bobby refilled both of their glasses, and sat forward in his seat.

'Did you ever think that maybe he's as corrupt as all those other damn angels? I know you trust him, Dean, but every other angel we've ever come across-'

'I know, Bobby. But making up a whole other person? Come on man, Cas doesn't even know what a practical joke is, he wouldn't be able to pull one off. Maybe if it was Gabriel,' Dean sighed. 'Cas thinks we should talk about what we remember about Sam.'

'Eejit,' Bobby muttered under his breath. 'So, what do you remember about this person who doesn't exist?'

Dean smirked. It was just like Bobby to take this view.

'I remember ... Sam was a nerd,' Dean grinned, and even Bobby chuckled briefly, already aware of what Dean was doing. So an angel wanted them to remember a person? They were going to create the saddest sonofabitch they could, between them.

'Obsessed with reading,' Bobby nodded.

'Had a computer, but never used it for porn. I mean, come on, what's the point otherwise?' Dean was getting into this.

'Ate salad.'

'Actually worried about drinking.'

'Sucked at poker.'

'Always wanted to talk about his "feelings" or some shit,' Dean shook his head.

'Now, what would you even do with a Hunter like that?' Bobby sighed, picking at a loose thread on his favourite worn armchair. Dean tipped his head back and knocked the whiskey back in one. Bobby had a point, they might be having a little fun, creating this loser, but he wouldn't be a Hunter. Not even close. Like Dean had said to Castiel, he'd get hurt, or die. And that was why Dean ran this solo.