Disclaimer: I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

Thanks go to SnarkyMuch2 for beta'ing this.

~ Chapter Two ~

"How do we fix this?" Bobby asked. "How do we get him back?"

Though it was Bobby that had spoken, Castiel turned to look into Dean's hopeful eyes as he replied.

"I don't know."

Dean's legs buckled, and he sank to the floor. His head dropped to rest on Sam's arm. It felt like the air had been sucked from the room. He had expected Castiel to have some grand plan to save his brother; he needed him to have the answers.

He felt a hand grip his shoulder, and he knew Bobby was attempting to comfort him. It was useless. The only person that could comfort him now was gone, leaving behind a shell. Anger and sadness fought him for control. It felt like a battle was raging inside of him. And there was Sam… Still and empty Sam. Anger towards his brother surged inside of him. Why had he done this to himself? Dean had warned him not to search for the memories, he had known it was a bad idea, but Sam hadn't listened.

"Dean?" Bobby saw Dean's hands bunch into fists and was concerned by the action.

Dean didn't answer. He pushed himself to his feet and drew back a fist. Bobby caught his arm and pulled Dean back before he could land a punch on his prone brother.

"What the hell are you thinking, ya damn idiot?" Bobby asked.

"He did this!" Dean seethed. "He did this to himself. I told him, I warned him not to push, but he wouldn't listen!"

Bobby quirked a brow. "And you think punching him is going to help?"

"I have to do something, Bobby. I'm…" He didn't know what to say. It didn't matter. Bobby knew exactly what he was feeling as he was feeling it too.

"You're scared," Bobby stated. "Damn right you are. We all are. But this isn't helping Sam. We need to focus on bringing him back."

"Didn't you hear Cas? There isn't anything we can do."

"That may not be true," Castiel said quietly. "Perhaps…"

"Perhaps, what?" Dean demanded, fighting the urge to throw Castiel up against the wall again.

"There is something I can try, but it is not without risk."

"You just shoved your hand into my brother's chest and touched his soul. If that doesn't count as a risk, I don't know what does."

"I am not inept," Castiel said, shooting Dean a wry look. "I am practiced at what I do. This is something new. I have not done this before."

"What exactly is this?" Bobby asked. "I'm sorry, Cas, but you aren't making a lick of sense."

"I can reach into Sam's mind and try to find his spirit."

"And if you find it, can you make it, I don't know"—Dean raked a hand across his face—"come back?"

Castiel was silent for a full minute as he considered. "Perhaps."

"And what is the risk?" Bobby asked.

Castiel sighed heavily. "The risk is that I could sever the connection between Sam's spirit and his body."

Dean sank down onto the armchair and buried his face in his hands. Castiel could reach his brother, or he could be the reason that he was lost forever. He felt defeated. This was too much for him to take.

"Are you with us, Dean?" Bobby asked, laying a hand on Dean's shoulder.

Dean nodded slowly. "I think so." He turned to look at Castiel. "Can Sammy come back on his own? I mean, is there a chance that his spirit can return without us risking this?"

Castiel frowned. "I don't know. I have never heard of a spirit leaving its body before. Sam is acting outside of my field of experience here."

"And if we don't do anything?" Bobby asked the question no one wanted to consider. "How long can he stay like this?"

Castiel shrugged. "Indefinitely, I imagine. I have little knowledge of human medicine, but I imagine Sam's status now is what a human physician would call catatonic."

Dean groaned. The word catatonic brought new horrors to mind. Stark, white hospital rooms and leather restraints. He couldn't let that happen to his brother.

"What do you think, Dean?" Bobby asked. "Do we try it?"

Dean shook his head and dropped to his knees beside his brother's head. Cupping Sam's face in his hands, he stared into his brother's eyes. "Sammy, can you hear me?"

"I've told you, Dean, he cannot…" Castiel trailed off as Bobby caught his eye and shook his head. Bobby understood that this was something that Dean needed to do, despite the fact it was pointless.

"Sammy, you're scaring us," Dean said. His tone was heartbreaking in its desperation.

Castiel frowned at the floor. The nuance of human emotion was something he didn't truly understand, but even he understood that this was a private moment between the two brothers.

Dean gripped the back of Sam's neck. "Please, Sam. Talk to me!"

Sam continued to stare into space, indifferent to everything around him.

Dean pushed himself to his feet and turned his defeated eyes to Castiel. "Do it. Whatever you have to do, but for crap's sake, be careful."

Castiel nodded. "I will do my best."

"Do better," Dean said.

Castiel frowned at the obvious contradiction and then shook his head. "I will."

He dropped to his knees beside Sam and took one of Sam's limp hands in his own. Drawing a deep breath, he placed a hand on Sam's temple and closed his eyes in concentration.

Dean watched warily, prepared to pull Castiel away at the first sign that things were going wrong. A full minute passed in relative silence; the only noise in the room was the sound of four people breathing softly. Eventually, Castiel opened his eyes again and looked up at Dean.

"Who is Jess?"

Sam was at peace.

The warm California sun shone through the gauzy curtains, warming them both. There were no classes to go to today, no studying to do; there was nothing to stop them from spending the day together in bed… nothing except that nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

"You okay, babe," Jess asked.

Sam turned to face his girlfriend, and a wry smile spread across his face. "Everything's fine, Jess." He kissed her temple. "I'm just enjoying the moment."

"You sure. You looked pensive. Are you thinking about Dean?"

His brother had come by the night before—through the window—to ask for help tracking down their errant father. Sam had to refuse him. He had an important interview on Monday, and he couldn't miss it. Besides, it wasn't like their father had never disappeared before. He always came back in the end, usually the worse for drink. Sam vowed that he would call to check in after his interview, and if Dean hadn't tracked down their father by then, he would join the search.

"You know, I'm sure if you called him he would come back," Jess said.

Sam chuckled. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

Jess rolled so she was curled against him, and she trailed one finger over his bare chest. "No, but I don't want you to regret not going."

"My dad can take care of himself," Sam said confidently. "He's a tough guy."

"If you're sure," Jess said, nuzzling her face in the crook of Sam's arm.

"I'm certain." Sam pulled the sheet over his head, casting them both into muted darkness.

"What does Jess have to do with anything?" Dean asked.

"Who is she?" Castiel asked again.

"She's Sam's girlfriend from college," Bobby said. "She died years ago."

Castiel frowned. "I see."

"Mind filling the rest of us in?" Dean asked, sinking to the floor beside the couch and gripping Sam's arm. "What does Jess have to do with anything?"

"She is where Sam is," Castiel said. "I was wrong. His spirit is not gone. It is still there."

"This is good news, right?" Bobby said. "If he's still in there, we can reach him." He looked down at his adopted son and for the first time, he felt hope.

Dean didn't share that hope. He stared into his brother's blank eyes and waited for the other shoe to drop.

"It simplifies things in a way," Castiel said, staring down at Sam with an indefinable expression. "Sam's spirit is intact and still tethered to his body, but he has done more than retreat into his mind. He has created a wall to hold the real world at bay."

"Another wall?" Bobby scoffed. "That boy's mind is like a construction site. How the hell did he make his own wall?"

Castiel looked from Sam to Dean. "I don't truly know. What I do know is that within his mind he has created a place of peace to protect him from the horrors within his memories."

"Jess," Dean said in a soft sigh. "He made his perfect world with Jess." The thoughts that he didn't voice were the ones that hurt him deeply. Sam's perfect world was with Jess and not him. He had known it since their sojourn in heaven that Sam's heaven was away from the family, while Dean's was with Sam. It burned him to think of it, but it had to be faced. Sam was Dean's world, but the same wasn't true for Sam. He had once had someone that he loved more than anyone else, and it wasn't Dean.

"So, what do we do now?" Dean asked. "How do we reach him when he has built himself a wall?"

"And how do we keep Death's wall intact?" Bobby asked. "'Cause we sure as Hell don't want to go screwing around with that one."

Castiel looked from Dean to Bobby with an expression of confusion. He was waiting for one of them to answer. When no answer seemed forthcoming, he spoke, "I do not know. I told you this is beyond my area of expertise. I cannot breach the wall in Sam's mind. I do not have bond necessary for such a thing."

"Well, if it's a bond you're look for, look no further," Bobby said, clapping Dean on the shoulder. "We've got all we need here in Dean. Those two are joined at the hip."

Castiel looked between Sam and Dean. "It is not a physical bond we require here."

"It's an expression, Cas," Dean said tiredly. "Bobby means we're close."

"Oh, I see. Well, you are the best candidate for the job. However, there is still a problem. I have never done something like this before. I would have to facilitate your excursion into your brother's mind."

"More risk?" Dean sighed.

Castiel nodded somberly. "Not just to Sam. You could both become trapped inside his created world."

Dean dismissed that as soon as it was voiced. There was no risk too great for him if it meant getting his brother back. Bobby wasn't so quick to dismiss it, however. He knew how it felt to lose one of his surrogate sons, and he was not prepared to risk the other.

"I don't think we should do this," he said, staring into Dean's eyes. "It's too dangerous."

"The risk is great," Castiel said, happy that someone was grasping the gravity of the situation.

"I don't care," Dean said firmly. "If this is what it takes to get Sammy back, it's what I am going to do."

"And if you get trapped in there with him?" Bobby asked. "What then?"

"At least we will be together," Dean said.

Immediately, Bobby understood. Dean would not mind becoming lost in Sam's mind as he would at least have his brother there as opposed to the shell they had in the real world. Dean's love for his brother knew no bounds, and that worried Bobby. He had known it since the moment Dean had made the deal with the demon to bring his brother back from the dead, and that had led to Dean being sent to Hell. Dean needed to live for himself, not for his brother.

Dean had knelt beside the couch again and was brushing Sam's hair out of his eyes. He let his hand linger on his brother's cheek and stared into his eyes, trying to communicate with him. It was pointless, Sam's eyes held no awareness. They blinked periodically and stared right through Dean.

"Don't worry, Sammy," Dean whispered. "I'm coming to get you."

Bobby braced himself to share his last hope in averting Dean's plan. "What if he doesn't want to come back?"

Dean turned to look at him, his eyes wide with dawning realization. What if Sam didn't want to come back? Dean had said it himself; Sam had created the perfect world. Would he want to leave it behind? The answer was obvious, though none of them wanted to admit it. Of course he wouldn't want to come back. He had Jess in that world; all he had in this life was the constant hunt and memories of Hell.

"And me," Dean muttered. "Here, he has me."

"What was that?" Bobby asked.

Dean shook his head. "Nothing."

"It does pose an interesting moral dilemma," Castiel said conversationally. "We would be drawing him from where he is happy to this life. How are we to know which life he would prefer."

"We can't just leave him like this," Dean said.

"Can't we?" Bobby asked. "We can take care of him well enough. He could be happy."

"We can't!" Dean growled. "This isn't happiness, being trapped inside his own mind like this. And how are we supposed to take care of him when every threat out there comes at him like a guided missile. He can't protect himself like this."

Bobby tried to catch Dean's eye, but he was staring determinedly at his prone brother. Dean didn't want to see the accusation in Bobby's eyes. The old hunter knew Dean better than anyone, excepting Sam, and he knew what Dean was thinking. The best thing for Sam was to be left to live out his perfect life, even if it was only in his mind. The best thing for Dean was to have his brother back, or failing that, to join him in his created mind. It may be the most selfish thing he had ever done, but Dean was determined to save his brother.

Bobby tugged off his baseball cap and threw it on the floor. "Dammit. You're not thinking straight, Dean. You're not thinking of Sam. You're thinking of yourself."

Dean raised his eyes slowly from his brother's face and looked at Castiel.

"We're doing this. Now tell me what we need to do."

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