His skin prickled and a thin layer of sweat formed across his brow. Castiel always used to enjoy time traveling, the rush of his blood and smooth sweep between special dimensions. However, he was beginning to despise it more and more with his lack of connection toward heaven. A forced 'partnership' with Naomi had restored a little of his strength but not enough to bring back his initial joy of the experience. Now, he felt ill as he scanned the dark street; slick with fresh rain and glowing gold from the street lamps. He shuddered and began to walk. This was as far as he could sense Dean without losing him completely, far enough back so that he could do what needed to be done, to say what needed to be said.
Slowly, he made his way toward a fairly beaten down hotel with a heavily fatigued boy no older than twenty, acne still covering his gaunt face, manning the front reception. His eyes barely glanced at the angel before returning to the comic in his hands. His name tag read: 'Garth'
"Hello Garth." The kids eyes snapped back up from the comic in his hands at the sound of Castiels voice. Obviously not what he was expecting.
"Er…Hello sir! Urm, checking in?"
"No. I'm looking for two me- excuse me, boys. Sam and Dean Winchester." They must have been no more than boys at this time. Silently, Castiel wondered what they would look like.
"Yeah. Room 15, ground floor. Will that b- Hey! What are you…?" The scrawny kid never stood a chance. In a flash, Castiel zapped him into unconsciousness and grabbed the spare key labelled "Room 15" and headed off down the main hall. He felt only a slight tinge of remorse for the poor kid. He hoped his manager wouldn't fire him for sleeping on the job. Reaching the end of the hall, he took a left and spotted it. There, at the very end of the narrow hall, was their room. A flutter of nerves sent Castiel into a fit of doubt. Should he be doing this? Probably not. But it was his only loop hole. Naomi had said he was not allowed to contact the Winchesters unless she permitted. From the moment she gave the command, Castiel had to endure the pain of hearing Dean's prayers and being able to do nothing about it. He hated it.
But this he could do. At least he thought he could. So far so good, at least. Last time he tried to come within a 10 mile radius of one of the boys he was zapped straight back to Naomi. He had had enough. Walking silently down the hall in order not to wake them (he knew from personal experience they were incredibly light sleepers. With good reason too), he made it to the door and slid the key in. He feared the unknown room beyond him, which was why he had not zapped himself in. He could have knocked over a chair then it would be all over.
But no one stirred. His breath caught in his through as the stained yellow light from the hallway draped smoothly over their features. The first thing he noticed was the innocent. The way their faces were smooth with no signs of lines deeply cut by anxiety. The second thing was Sam's hair. God It had been short! His breath was stolen, however, when his eyes rested on Dean. His young body sprawled carelessly over the bed. His eyes and cheeks smooth and, well, happy. It was almost too much. Seeing these boys before everything tore them apart from the inside out. Before Angels and Demons and everything after. He had the strong urge to take them right then and there to somewhere even God could not find them and run further still. A dull ache settled in his chest and he had to rip his eyes away to stop it from reaching his heart. He had work to do.
Slowly, he reached out a hand. His Fingers had barely brushed the young man's forehead before he was inside his head. His dream. He blinked a few times and studied his surroundings. A dusty room filled with books that surrounded every wall opened up around him. Murky yellow light spilled in from a small window somewhere toward the back of the room. Turning in a slow circle, he spotted him, near the window curled in a comfy position with his nose in a book was Sam Winchester. He had never been inside Sam's head before and it was a truly humbling place. He could feel the serenity that kept this boy grounded for so many years. In a small way, he felt very proud of him.
Taking a few soft steps behind him, he worked up the courage to finally speak.
"Hello Sam." Castiel could see the alarm shoot through him as he shot to his feet moving defensively away. "Please, do not be alarmed. I have no intention of hurting you. I only wish to tell you something." Sam's jaw was hanging wide. His eyes fearful and his breathing short. Finally, he spoke.
"Who are you? How are you in my head?" His voice, so young, shook with fright. It suddenly occurred to Castiel that he was probably the most terrifying thing the boy had experienced in his short life of being Sam.
"You do not know me and how I am here is not important. Please, let me tell you what I need and I will be gone." Conflicting emotions flickered across his face before he finally bowed his head in agreement. Moving closer ever so slowly, Castiel began.
"You will go through a lot Sam Winchester, you will break, rip and tear until you feel that there is nothing holding you together anymore. I need to tell you that there will always be something holding you together. Your brother, Dean, will always be there Sam even when you think he's gone from you. He'll be there. I just need to make sure that you remember it."
Castiel watched as Sam's face changed from fearful to astonish to slightly confused.
"I know. He's my brother, we'll always be there for eachother." Castiel's fists clenched.
"But you need to remember that! There will come a time when you won't remember," He gripped Sam's head between his hands and closed his eyes, "You need to remember it!" Just before he left, he slipped in a small "Goodbye Sam."
And then he was gone. In a flash, he had removed his face from Sam's memory until only the message in the dream remained. It will be there as a small thought in his mind, always reminding him. At least, Castiel hoped.
He pushed Sam into a deeper sleep before straightening to face Dean. He swayed a little on his feet before he took a step toward him. His energy was draining fast, he needed to get to Dean. Stumbling over, he rested his fingers on the young boys forehead and, in an instant, he was gone.
Dean's head was a little different to Sam's. They were both the same in the sense that they were peaceful only Dean's was a little more busy. Castiel spotted him standing on a street corner chatting up a rather attractive brunette. His head began to throb, his knees almost buckled beneath him as a wave of pain shot through him. Naomi was close. Wasting no more time. Castiel approached him.
"Hello Dean." His voice rough and hoarse caught Dean's attention immediately.
"What the-" Castiel wished he could stop. Stop and just look into Dean's young face. His heart swelled with a desire to never leave his side again. To stop the horrors of the world making their mark on him. On his human. But he couldn't. And he knew it.
"I wish I had time to explain. But I don't so I'm just going to say it. You need to have hope Dean. Faith. That is what you must carry with you. Without it, you are but an empty shell. Life will throw immeasurable horrors at you and without it, well, lets just say that I've seen how you take it and without hope it's not a pretty sight." Dean looked like he had been slapped in the face. However, the stunned look was quickly replaced by a smirk.
"This is one wacked up dream, man."
Castiel was getting irritated. He needed Dean to hear him. If he didn't hear him, like he knew Sam did, he wouldn't carry the thought with him.
"Dean listen to me! Most importantly, if you have faith in nothing else, have faith in Sam!" Dean's expression changed quickly. He became guarded and wary. Good. He was listening now. "Sam is, quite literally the only thing that keeps you from ripping in two. Trust him Dean. Never forget that."
"Goodbye Dean."
He had mere seconds to wipe Dean's mind of everything but the message he gave before he was seized up by Naomi once again. His chest felt lighter and his mind clearer. He didn't care what she did to him for now on. She could throw an army of thousands at him and he wouldn't spare them the time of day to care because he'd done it. He had said Goodbye. Past present of future he didn't care. He'd seen them one last time. And maybe, just maybe, he'd fixed them. Just a little bit. Maybe he'd made them just a little bit closer.
His humans.