Dreaming about the things that we could be...
"Son of a bitch! Crowley, get the hell out will you."
"Where's Moose?"
"I don't know where Sam is but when I wake up from this coma I will find him- Hang on; since when do demons go into comas?
"You're not an ordinary demon, Dean."
"Oh yeah- that's right, I've got the Mark of Cain or whatever- so how do I wake up?"
"I'll help you. But first we need to have a rather simple deal. After you wake up, come to this same house before the end of day.
"Wait a second- Oh where the bloody hell did you go..."
Castiel had finally came to after Sam shook him rather vigorously awake.
"Cas, I've found Dean!"
The border collie's limp form began to tremble into life, and his lids which were sealed tightly shut flickered open like blue suns being kindled. His paws crept their way off Sam's back and, unfortunately, he landed on the floorboards with a noise akin to a bag of bones being dropped to the ground. Dismissing Sam's attempts to help him, he crawled sluggishly towards Dean's lifeless body.
At a distance, the Malinois did not look too bad, rather he appeared as a dirty stray taking a nap. Up close, the decorations of cuts and wounds began to show themselves as evidence of a real and horrifying attack.
Castiel uttered a weak whine that sounded like his throat was made of fraying rope and someone was picking at the strands.
"Dean."
The collie's fear motivated Sam to participate in licking and prodding at Dean in different places.
His unresponsive state- no pulse, heartbeat or sign of movement or breathing-lit a growing madness in both.
"Dean...!"
Sam howled in distress and began forcefully nudging at his brother. Castiel; too weak to howl, simply buried his muzzle in Dean's chest while breathing rather quickly- as his vessel had the inability to shed tears.
Meanwhile inside Dean's head, Crowley's voice and thoughts began to slur and waver into incomprehensible noises, which began to include other sounds jumping into the mixture of odd audio. These sounds began to clear slowly, and the word 'Dean' began to repeat in his head again and again.
"DEAN!"
The Malinois jolted into oblivion, the blackness suffocating his eyes suddenly erasing away to a blurry scene of rickety floor-boards and ramshackle, blood splattered walls. Two dogs were positioned in front of him, one was barking worriedly in his face and the other had its snout nuzzled in the sinewy build of his vessel.
Dean's hearing and vision suddenly switched themselves to their original settings and he recognised the Leonberger's vessel to be his brother and, well, who else would the little collie; violating his personal space (in an oddly pleasurable way)- be?