Something was wrong with Castiel, Dean was sure of it. He had been calling the angel for a month now, with no response. Dean had tried yelling his name in the bunker, in the field, in an abandoned gas station. He left at least a dozen voicemails on the cellphone he had given Cas years earlier, and had even tried praying to him, but as before, there was no response. Yes, something was definitely wrong with Castiel, mused Dean, swirling around a glass of whiskey he found in the kitchen, as his eyes drooped lower and lower.

"Dean. Dean! DEAN!"

Dean yelped, then swung out a fist, and then finally opened his eyes.

"Fuck."

He was standing on a tall hill overlooking a city that was cracking and crumbling underneath volleys of lightning bolts being flung from the dust filled sky, Shouts and blood-curdling screams were cut off as marble columns, screeching and sliding, fell on top of the inhabitants of the city. Blood red dust swirled in funnels all around him, creating a grainy filter he could barely see through. Dean swore again. and rubbed his eyes. Yet again, the voice boomed out,

"Dean! Listen to me!"

It was Cas. His trenchcoat was in tatters, and he held his left arm at an awkward angle. He looked like he was trying to move closer to Dean but was held back by an invisible force. He winced in pain and Dean made to move forward but Cas yelled,

"Dean no!". Dean froze at the urgency in his voice.

"I don't have a lot of time, Dean. There's a new angel trying to take over heaven, he doesn't have a lot of followers but his sheer brute force makes up for that."

A booming laugh echoed from behind the angel. Cas gulped slightly and looked behind him, shoulders slumping even further down when he saw a pair of giant, shadowy yellow wings emerging over the skyline. He turned quickly when Dean spoke.

"Cas what the hell is that?! What's happening?"

"That is the destructive force of Kazriel, and this is one of the many backup worlds created by my Father. Kazriel is creating chaos on them, one by one, until they begin to achieve the state he wants them to be in. Then he comes, and wipes them off completely.

Dean, still confused and a bit delirious, asked,

"But why?"

Cas shrugged, then looked as if he instantly regretted it.

"I suppose that this is his way of avenging Lucifer; by destroying the life forms that got him into trouble in the first place."

"Cas! Come back to the bunker, Sam and I will help you sort this out! I don't want you to get hurt…" Dean added the last part in a whisper.

"I want to, Dean, I really want to. But I must stay here to aid my brothers and sisters. They need me."

"I need you Cas."

"I know."

The yellow-winged colossus was slowly but steadily drawing closer, paying no heed to the bright, electrical blue flashes continuously diving at it like attacking wasps.

Cas sighed, his face full of yearning for the warmth and relative safety of the bunker, as well as, at the back of his mind, Dean's strong embraces.

"Cas...please…" It was clear what Dean wanted, but alas, it could never be.

Castiel started to say something, but was interrupted by one of the electric flashes alighting close to him. It said something that Dean couldn't quite make out. Cas nodded, and the flash of light went back to attacking the impending shadow.

"What is it, what's happening?" Dean demanded, anxious and impatient.

"I must go fight now Dean", the angel replied.

The hunter looked at him incredulously.

"Fight?" he asked, "But you can hardly stand!"

"I will heal in due course", said Cas, and winced again as he turned to go. "You have to wake up now Dean."

Obviously, Dean didn't want to leave the angel, and he expressed his feelings in an outburst.

"Fuck no! Let me help!"

But Castiel ignored him, choosing instead to brace himself for a short flight towards the impending figures. He tensed his body, spread his sooty wings, and flapped off into the chaotic whirl of dust and human screams.

Dean groaned, and was about to start coming off the hill, when a gust of wind knocked him over backwards, and then he was falling. He was plummeting down, down, down into a pair of immense hands that were opening to catch him. He squeezed his eyes shut.

When Dean opened his eyes, he was slumped at the kitchen counter in a puddle of whiskey, causing him to jerk back and fall off the chair.

"Dean? You ok?"

Sam came into the room, carrying one of his ancient books. He reached out a hand to Dean.

"I'm fine, but I don't think Cas is." Dean replied.

"What do you mean."

"I had this dream...at least I think it was a dream…"

Sam sighed, then said,

"Here, let me help you, and you can tell me. So what's the deal with Cas?"

Dean relayed his visions to his brother, who looked more and more alarmed by the minute. When he had finished, there was a few moments of quiet between the siblings.

"Maybe you just need to get more sleep, Dean", said Sam. "Your brain might have just twisted all your fears into one big mess."

"Maybe…" mused Dean.

"Go to bed," said Sam. "I'll get the details for our next case, some weird disappearing fields in Iowa. No, go." he added when Dean started protesting. "Go get some sleep." And Dean obliged.

Meanwhile, the angel Castiel struck at Kazriel again and again, hoping with all of his heart that Dean would come soon. Oh, if only Dean would come soon...