Dean's been pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth.
He knows he can't look for his brother, only God knows where he went, and Dean doesn't think there's a God anymore.
He closes his eyes, blocking out the noise, blocking out the commotion, blocking out Mary's voice of Dean, Dean, are you okay, do you know if we can find Sam or Jack, could they kill Lucifer, and Dean just shakes his head, finally answering her.
"I don't know, Mom-"
An explosion, dust is everywhere, there's an enormous cloud of it in the center of the camp, and standing in the middle are two silhouettes, both with wings, and the taller has its wings covering, protecting, guarding, the smaller one, and there are cries everywhere and the loading of guns and everyone's pointing their weapons to the two figures, and oh, God, what if it's Michael and Jack, what if Michael has killed Lucifer and Sam and taken Jack and now there here to kill everyone else-
One wave of the taller one's pair of wings, or is it three pairs, and the dust instantly settles.
It's Sam and Jack, neither of them have wings, or at least, visible wings, was Dean hallucinating after all, what the hell was in his coffee-
Sam grins, his hand on Jack's shoulder, and Dean forgets all about it.
"Guys, it's fine, they're friends!" Dean yells, and there are whispers and confusion but the guns are down, Sam and Jack are safe, at least that's one less thing to worry about.
The rest of the people mumble and frown but then they go back to work, go back to whatever they were doing and Dean sighs in relief.
Sam glances down at Jack, eyebrows knitted together in askance, then Jack nods and wanders off.
Then Sam turns to Dean and he swallows, he looks down, shoulders hunched, afraid, why is he afraid, and the only thing Dean thinks is, oh, God, Sammy, what happened?