Dean took one final look at the trapped angel in the cabin. He knew that once they trapped Cas in the holy fire, everything would change. He wanted to know the truth – but in all honesty he hated himself for wanting to get his suspicions confirmed. He knew of Cas' betrayal the moment he made that Superman reference. Cas just doesn't say those things; He doesn't understand them. And Dean just knew. His heart broke at the thought of his angel walking that road – the road paved with good intentions. He knew that road all too well. He already had to walk that road with Sam, and that nearly broke him. But now Cas? It was just too much.
Caught up in his thoughts, he slammed his eyes shut tight, as if trying to extinguish the image of his friend's betrayal, and whirled around towards the outside air. He ran out the door and didn't look back. As he ran, he heard it. He heard what was happening at that cabin and he just couldn't stop them. Couldn't stop the tears, that is. He wasn't sure if it was rage, pain, or anguish – hell it may have been all three. All he knew was that the being he left behind in that cabin wasn't Cas. It wasn't his Cas.
Suddenly, Dean realized something. In his head; in his thoughts, he had called him his Cas. His thoughts drew a snarky laugh at that thought. You really think that "angelic" bastard gives a rat's ass about you? His mind roared at him while he ran, unable to escape the fury of his own mind. You think that son of a bitch really gives a damn what happens to you? He's working with Crowley! One hit off the old demon pipe is all it takes, and you know it. Cas is gone, man. And he ain't comin' back. There is no comin' back, not where he's headed.
Dean finally reached the Impala, still where they'd parked it out by the highway turn off. As his mind shouted those final curses in his mind, he fell to the ground and started shouting. He wasn't even sure what exactly he was shouting. He just knew he had to stop it. Had to stop whatever it was in his mind that was making him think all those things. Sam rushed up behind him and gripped his shoulders tight.
"Dean! Dean, can you hear me! We gotta go, man. We gotta get out of here!" He shook Dean, trying to spur him out of his seemingly psychotic break. With one final shout of his name, and a very rigorous yank, Dean was on his feet again. His throat raw from shouting and his breath ragged from the tearless sobs being wrenched from him. Sam looked at him for a moment while Dean gathered himself back to a more-aware state of mind. He realized where he was again, and what exactly they had been running from.
Dammit, he muttered under his breath as he jammed his hands in his coat pockets, trying to find the keys to his baby. Once retrieved, he all but ripped the door open, and stuck the keys into the ignition. As soon as Sam managed to get his door shut, the tires screeched and they were heading full force down the road, trying to catch up to where Bobby was, about three miles ahead – his headlights now two barely distinguishable red dots in the distance. Dean went as fast as his baby could take 'em, without wearing her out. He looked in his rearview mirror, trying to see if whatever they were running from was tailing them. Caught up in his mad search for something he thought might be coming after them, he hadn't realized the road had fallen away. Hadn't noticed, that is, until Sam's shouting broke his racing mind free from its trance.
"Dean! The road!" Sam shouted at Dean, trying to get him paying attention to the road again. Dean whipped his head around, more than likely giving himself whiplash. He turned back to the road just in time to see the gaping hole that now lies ahead, where the road used to be.
He slammed on the brakes, but it was all to no avail. The tires screeched, steering wheel locked tight as far right as it could go. Dean tried to steer them clear of the hole, but he miscalculated the distance. As the car turned, the wheels flew over the hole. The balance of the car was thrown off and suddenly, Sam, Dean, and Dean's baby were being pulled backwards; down into the abyss. As they started to fall, Dean heard his name being called. It sounded strange, though. He risked a glance at Sam, who gripped the interior, even though he knew holding on to the dash would do nothing to stop their descent. He realized, though, as his name was said again, that it wasn't coming from Sam. He looked around and suddenly blacked out as once again, his named passed his ear. "Dean!"
Dean sat up sharp in bed, with a cry of pain as his shoulder made an obscene cracking noise. Cas was trying to hold him down by his shoulders, shouting his name as he pushed. When Cas managed to stop his incessant panicked writhing, he pushed him down back onto the bed and held him there. He looked into the green depths of Dean's eyes and tried it again,
"Dean? Dean, are you with me. I need to know if you can hear me, Dean." His vision, now clearing of the haze it had gained from the pain introduced in his shoulder, was slowly coming back to him. He looked up and saw two sapphire orbs staring back at him, wide with fear and worry. He barely registered the movement of Cas' lips when he spoke, but he managed to hear what it was being said to him. "Please."
Breathing returned to a reasonable rate, he barely croaked out, "Cas?" He heard a relived breath escape from Cas' mouth, just before he saw Cas diving down at him. He felt strong arms raise him gently, but swiftly, from the bed and into an embrace. A breath was knocked out of him as the angel gently squeezed him. He reached out his hands and returned the embrace with just as much fervor. He winced as he brought his arms up, remembering hearing the crack of his arm. However, the wince was trailed by no pain. He realized, in an instant, that Cas had healed him. And he was damn glad, he thought as he just squeezed Cas tighter.
They sat there for what seemed an eternity, just holding each other; sharing each other's warmth and comfort. Dean was the one who broke away first. He didn't want to, God help him, but he needed to know. He spoke softly, "Cas… What happened to me?" He stared intently into the blue orbs searching his features.
"I… I'm not sure, Dean. The demons that ambushed you in that cabin… they must have done something to you. After we spoke, you started to walk away, and then you were out. Just…out." He looked, eyes fleeting and filled with pain as he remembered the incident. Dean squeezed Cas' forearm, reassuring him that he's okay now. Cas managed a barely-there smile, and cleared his throat. "I thought you were dead, but you still had pulse. I tried to heal you, but when I touched you, I was burned. I'm not sure how, but something was bewitching you; it wasn't allowing me to see into your mind or even heal you. We all pitched in, tried to wake you up more than a dozen times for each of us. I told Sam and Bobby that they needed to rest, and that I would stay here to monitor you"
Dean's mind raced as Cas talked. A dream. He tought. It was only a dream. A horrifyingly vivid dream; but still not real, and that's what matters. He swayed his thoughts aside to hear the rest of what Castiel had to say.
"It's been twenty-four hours since you passed out on us, and I was starting to think…" His voice faltered and his words trailed off into silence. He picked back up, leaving that last bit where it was, refusing to think what might have happened. "But then, I tried reaching into your mind once again. Somehow I was able to get through your bewitchment and brought you closer to out of it. I couldn't bring you out completely, but I helped you as much as I could. And from then it was just a waiting game for me. And now here we are." He looked back into Dean's eyes, relief filling them, as well as something more.
It took him a minute to process everything Castiel was saying to him. Then, something took hold of him. He's not sure what possessed him, but suddenly he was surging forward, intent on one thing. He caught Cas' lips with his own, earning a surprised gasp from them both when their lips made contact. It was swift and almost chaste, their brush of lips. After barely a moment, Dean pulled away, panic attack taking full effect. He huffed out a staggered breath and tried to speak, "Cas I… I'm sorry. I just – the nightmare. It was horrible. Sam, Bobby, and you were in danger and I…" His eyes began to tear up, remembering the horrific night terror he had just awoken from. "And then you were – mmpf!" His arms flailed a little as he was suddenly silenced by soft, warm lips.
Cas had decided that Dean had done enough "reminiscing." Their lips moved together – soft, sweet, synchronized kisses; but nothing more. Each kiss was filled with so much love, promise, and comfort, Dean almost couldn't handle it. After a few minutes of sharing breaths and little nips, they parted. Staring intently at each other, their lips simultaneously curved into two almost-identical smiles. They reached out for each other again – this time, to hold each other. A warm, safe embrace; a promise of protection. They reveled in it for a moment, until Cas finally spoke up. "Come on, Dean," he pulled away, just enough to look Dean straight in the face, eyes caressing his features as he continued to speak. "I'm sure that Sam and Bobby will be much more than pleased to hear that you're back with us."
With a feather-light kiss to Dean's forehead, Cas stood up from his spot in front of Dean and held out his hand. Dean took it, and was lifted lightly to his feet. They gripped each other's hands and walked into the other room to wake Bobby and Sam.
As he was led into the other room by the angel, he began to think. He was damn glad to be out of his own mind. However, it was all so real. He couldn't quite shake the fact that he had a bad feeling, nestled and festering in his abdomen. It was almost making him queasy.
Two weeks after the incident, Dean's worst nightmares were suddenly his reality.