A random hole in the wall bar on the outskirts of an even more random city. At this point Dean wasn't even sure what state they were in. "Another." The empty glass rang as the hunter slammed it against the wooden bar.

A shot replaced the finished one the moment he spoke for it. "Scotch, straight up." The bartender, a beautiful blonde, smiled. "So what's her name?" Dean cast her a confused look. "A man only drinks this much when he's trying to forget. So either you killed someone, or it's girl trouble."

"Try both." He grunted, downing the drink that sat before him. "Sort of." Motioning for another he stacked the glass atop the others that sat beside him. It was quiet the collection and under lighter circumstances he'd be proud. Not tonight. Tonight the bartender was right; he was trying to forget.

"Sounds like some heavy baggage." She leaned against the bar in the seductive way women tended to do when in Dean's presence. "Perhaps I can help you with some of it."

"Tempting." His green eyes looked her up and down, more for her benefit then for his own. "Very tempting. But I shouldn't." The newly emptied glass twirled in the hunter's hands before he placed it on the bar. "Let me ask ya something. If you were….if you had…." Man his situation was harder to explain then he thought. Well, explain and still sound sane.

"Sweetie, why don't you start with something easy?" She filled his glass again. "What's her name?"

"Cass….ie. Cassie."

"Cassie. And she is your?"

"Friend. Close friend." He paused. "We worked together."

"Office tryst. How risqué." The blonde winked.

"It's not like that." Green eyes still downcast he continued. "We did have a 'more profound bond' as Cass liked to call it. But it was never…we didn't actually…."

"Did you want to?"

"Are you insane?!" The words were more heated then he intended. Was it because she was wrong or because she may be right? "It's Cass so I never…." He sighed. "Well she's been….relocated so to speak. Which I was ok with.."

"You're lying." The blonde purred, leaning once again on the bar. "If you were ok with it you wouldn't be here."

"I was on... some level. Honestly. What Cass is doing is important. I know that, even if Sam doesn't."

"Sam?"

"My brother. The three of us were a team." Another pause. "But lately Sam's been…well not himself. Sick? And Cass is nowhere to be found."

"Have you called her?"

"Yes!...No….sort of?" Dean downed the drink that had materialized in his hands. "Cass knows what's going on. But doesn't know how to help so thinks it's better to not say anything." He scoffed. "After everything we've been through. Nothing. Says nothing. Unless it's pertains to this new assignment, or a way for us to help Cass. Selfish feathery prick."

"Feathery?"

"Boas. Cass likes to wear boas."

"Right." The bartender rolled her eyes, pouring yet another drink. The rest of the bar was dead, not unusual for a Tuesday night. So she didn't mind helping the handsome stranger work through his issues. "So 'Cassie' knows what going on with Sam, that he isn't feeling well."

"Ain't that what I said?"

"But does she know how hurt you are?"

"Come again?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Does she know how she's hurt you?"

"Let me get something clear." The words began to slur. As a matter of fact so had his vision. How many drinks has he had? "Cass hasn't hurt me. Cass can't hurt me, ok? I'd have to give a rat's ass about the stupid angel for him to be able to hurt me."

"And you don't?"

"I don't!"

"Then you were drowning yourself in scotch because, what, she hasn't answered the phone?"

"Exactly!" He slammed the glass. "The least Cass could do is say something once and a while."

"Ok cowboy, I think you've had enough." She put the bottle behind the counter. Clearly this guy had more issues then she could help with, and she didn't like the way he was raising his voice. "Pay your tab and sleep it off." With a dismissive wave of the hand Dean did just that.

The streets were barren. Also not unusual for a Tuesday night. Dean was alone, the only company his thoughts. "What does she know? Dumb broad." He mumbled, swaying as he walked the dark sidewalk that he hoped led to the hotel. Sam wasn't answering his cell so a ride was out of the picture. "Cass is nothing more than a self-centered dickbag. Even if I did 'call him' it's not like he'd answer." He looked toward the sky. "Nothing in it for ya, so you have nothing to say? Ain't that right 'Cassie'? Too much going on to take time out to help your friends. Huh Cass?!"

No response. But he wasn't surprised in the least. He continued on his way, mind still swimming with thoughts. "Cass?!" He screamed. "CASTIEL! I know you can hear me. CASTIEL!" Yet again, nothing. "Figured."

For a while he continued in silence, his anger boiling just below the surface. It still hadn't occurred to him why he was so mad at Cass. He told himself that it was because Sam needed his help, that all of this anger was for Sam's sake. But the reality was it was because he needed Cass. There was no one else he could turn to, to rely on once Sam was taken away from him. And let's face it Sam is gone even if Dean didn't want to admit it. "Damn it Cass! You come when I call you. GET DOWN HERE! CASTIEL!" A few more steps and he screamed again. Just the angel's name. Cass, Castiel. Over and over until his voice became hoarse and his throat felt like it was aflame.

Even with the pain he continued to call. He didn't know what else to do. "Cass….Cass." The words sounded broken, defeated. Pitiful. "Castiel…please man." Almost a whimper. "I'm begging you dude. This is too much." The hotel was close and he would have to face the robot that called itself his brother. "I can't do this alone, Cass. I'm begging you. Please. Help me." He opened the door to their room and sighed.

"Hey." Sam greeted sitting at the table. "Dude you look awful."

"You're no Channing Tatum yourself." The elder hunter grunted, staggering to his bed. "Find anything out?"

"Not really. There isn't much on the internet about Psotnik. At least nothing about how to kill it."

"I'm sure you'll find something." He collapsed onto the mattress. "Man my head is killing me."

"Should have seen that coming."

"Shut up." Dean's eyes closed. "Bitch."

"Jerk."

At least something's still remained. Even if that wasn't entirely his brother. Some sense of normalcy was nice. Sam mumbled something about heading out for provisions; Dean didn't exactly hear him, but waved just the same.

Alone once again with his thoughts he laid in the silent room trying his best to fall asleep. There was still so many things he wanted to say and choking them back was getting harder and harder. "Alright…this is the last time I'm gonna do this. Cass….Castiel…whatever you want me to call you to get this through. Please just….just say something. Sam needs your help. I…I need your help." He sighed, closing his eyes. "Can't you see how bad things are? I can't do this alone. I need you man. You're like family to me." He looked around the room one last time before letting his heavy eyelids close for the night. "I love you Cass." Just as sleep claimed him he swore he heard a familiar raspy voice reply 'Hello Dean.'