N.A.: This is the second chapter of what I'm planning as a five chapter story. Thank you for reading and please, let me know what you think. If you want to write to me just to tell me how much I suck, I accept it as well. :P


Castiel was gone within a blink, and Dean could only look at his brother the only way Sam had seen him in months. There was sadness, despair and, clearly for Sam, a broken heart. There were less jokes than normal, there was no singing along with the stereo, there was no enthusiasm while biting a burger. There was no life remaining in Dean's eyes. And Sam had seen it.

They had found a way to kill Dick and his leviathan's entourage, and that should've lifted Dean's spirit. There were only a few things they needed to get, but nothing too complicated. When they were getting a bone from a righteous mortal and choose Sister Mary Constant, Castiel had recognized the bone just by smelling it, giving the brothers a content smile that Dean could only read as satisfaction… maybe happiness. And that had felt like a knife right through the chest.

As the night caught up on them, Dean felt asleep, waiting for the morning to come to finally get rid of Dick Roman and his fellowship of the black goo. He felt better after Castiel agreed to go with him to stop the big mouthed. He was relaxed, with a hand hanging from the cot, breathing slowly and steadily. Castiel watched upon him quietly, paying attention to the way the hunter's chest went up and down, matching his own breath to Dean's.

Meg was out, doing whatever the hell demons do when they're bored, and Sam was sleeping and snoring loudly on the other side of the cabin. Castiel crossed both arms on his chest and tilted his head. He could hear the heartbeat of the man in front of him and, when he rolled on his side facing towards Castiel, a sigh escaped his lips. Dean squeezed the blanket and pulled it over his shoulder. The angel looked at him with a little smile growing on his face.

"Boy, if you weren't an angel this would be creepy", said a feminine voice behind him. "I have always wondered… Do angels dream?"

"I don't think so, since we don't sleep. But our vessels… They do dream." Castiel sighed turning his sight to Meg. It was weird how not long ago he felt sick just by her mere existence, but now, it was kind of comforting.

"And what do you dream of?", real curiosity on her tone.

"Mostly, nonsense. But, since… I got like this, about Heaven. A very specific piece of it."

"Let me guess… Does it involve certain green eyed, dumb-like faced, not-so-funny hunter?", Meg almost chuckled, and Dean revolved a little in the bed, making the angel and demon both low their tone.

"I just think it has something to do with the brain damage", Castiel answered with a whisper.

"Yeah, sure, good luck with that."

Meg left to get something to drink while Castiel stood there, watching Dean sleep. The dawn near and the darkness vanishing into shades of purple and blue, Castiel heard a sigh and his own name coming out of Dean's lips. And that gave him the determination he needed in order to fulfill his mission on that day: to protect Dean and send the leviathans back to Purgatory.

Dean was dreaming. He hadn't in a long time, or at least he hadn't dreamt anything but nightmares. But this night, so close to end with one that had turned into real life, his mind was playing something more placid instead. There was a forest with trees so tall he couldn't manage to see the sky. And in the middle of that forest, there was a little cabin with a porch looking directly into the woods. He could hear the squeaking of a rocking chair as someone pushed himself in it. The whole place smelled like fresh baked pie and recently mowed grass, and the sounds were mostly the leaves on the trees moved by the wind, hitting on each other.

It was so peaceful, so beautiful, so quiet… He walked towards the cabin and when he got to the door and turned to the rocking chair sound, there was Castiel. Reading a book, but turning his head up to him with a smile. The lines around his blue eyes and his hair revolving just a little bit because of the wind, filled his chest with a warmth he hadn't felt since his mom had tucked him into bed for the last time, the same night she died.

"Castiel", he had said while placing his hand on the shoulder covered by the eternal trench coat.

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Thank you for reading. Please, favorite/review. The third chapter should be up by Sept. 24th.