"And the winner is..." the announcer pulls back the flap of the envelope, and, abruptly, the screen goes fuzzy. The color blends together, distorted.
Odd.
The reception is usually excellent.
Frustrated, Cas fidgets with the antennae and taps at the TV's side.
The image changes, and, slowly, the colors resolve. The picture comes back into focus, and a familiar outline followed by an even more familiar face comes into view.
Dean is on his screen, which is strange.
He should not be.
There is no show with Dean.
Confused, he glances around for any sign that he's no longer alone in the safe little corner of his mind. But everything around him is neat and orderly, just as it should be.
He turns back to the screen to see Dean's eyes laser focused on him, his voice desperate and urgent, "Cas, come on, snap out of it. You gotta hear me. Cas, come on!"
Strange.
Dean is on the TV.
But Dean also appears to be looking right at him, speaking to him.
He squints and frowns. "Dean...? You can see me?"
The Dean in the screen leans forward and reaches for him. "Of course I can see you. You're right in front of me!"
His skin tingles under the ghost of Dean's touch, a faint rustling tugs at the fabric of his trenchcoat, and the bunker, suddenly, smells of blood and earth and Dean.
He feels wobbly.
He blinks and squints, and the TV and the kitchen go fuzzy at the edges.
But Dean?
Dean stays in focus.
Dean's hands rest on his shoulders, holding him steady, as he repeats on an endless loop, "Cas, you gotta stay with me. Cas, come on. I know you're still in there. Just look at me. Cas!"
It comes to him slowly and then like an avalanche.
This is real.
Dean is real.
His arms and hands crawl up Dean's back slowly, tentatively.
His limbs no longer feel like his own.
But he manages to wrap his arms tight around Dean, pulling him close. Dean shudders against him, surprised and relieved. "That's it, Cas. That's it. Stay with me."
Dean rubs circles against his back, and he blinks and blinks and blinks until the TV set and the bunker's kitchen fade from view and, finally, disappear entirely.
He sees now that they're in a field, surrounded by grass, with the pink sky above fading into velvet.
He takes in several deep breaths of the fresh evening air as Dean presses his forehead to his. "Cas, damn it. Never do anything like this again. You hear me? I... you're...Cas..."
Cas tilts his forehead into Dean's and nods. "I'm sorry it didn't work. I never should have trusted Lucifer. I believed him when he said he could..."
Dean's eyes shoot to his hairline as he pulls back, "You think I'm upset that it didn't work? "
"Aren't you?"
"No! I'm ... you goddamn idiot. You could've..." Dean pulls him into a bone crushing hug, squeezing him tighter and tighter. "I missed you. God, I missed you, Cas."
Dean's voice is breaking, tears are welling in his eyes, and Cas is lost.
He cups Cas' jaw with his hand and brushes his thumb against his lips. "So, come on, I'm taking you home."