Heaven sprawled out before his eyes, all golden and glorious and Sam closes in on what Lucifer is staring at, because this is Lucifer's cage, Lucifer's hell and Lucifer's memories. The angels looks different here. They burned bright, too bright but his eyes remain where they should be, in his eye-sockets. He could make out human-ish shapes, but it could all be in his head. The sky swerves again, and they land in a garden. Lucifer still standing, his body more like a shell than anything else. It was weird, is all that is.
Logically, Sam knew that no place on Earth could be this bright and beautiful. Logically, he knew that this is Heave. Still, overwhelming is what he could say. Then Sam could see Lucifer. Not mentally passed out Lucifer, but Lucifer. Memory Lucifer, in this case. It's strange, how he could even recognize the Archangel just be looking, considering that all he sees is a giant glowing ball of light, but he could tell it's Lucifer. And Michael. Sam could tell that the other giant glowing ball of Light was Michael.
The feelings overwhelmed him, even if Sam knows that it was not his own feelings that he is feeling, but Lucifer's feelings instead. And Sam thinks that maybe the connection between him and Lucifer is not the regular Angel-Vessel connection. Or maybe Lucifer's brotherly issues is overlaying with Sam's own brotherly issues, and boy, do they both have issues. He can see Lucifer's eyes widening by a fraction, too. That bastard might not be as catatonic as Sam previously thought, but then another new wave of feelings washed over him and Sam had to struggle just not to fall over. This is Lucifer's hell, Sam reckons, as the sheer amount of anger, pain and betrayal assaulted his mind. The sky swerves again.
Dean is drinking again. He is also hunting again. Two months after moving in with Lisa and Ben, he leaves with a note and a drunken phone call. Not his best moment, but, then again, at least Dean the fuck up have no one left to drag down with him. So here he is, getting drunk off cheap whisky and self pity, with Sam's laptop out in front of him.(the constant reminder of Sam is definitely not healthy, but this is Dean we're talking about). At least the case was easy. Another salt and burn. A fairly new ghost, too. Took care of it in a night.
Dean sighs, and slams the laptop down. He could almost feel Sam's disapproving stare at his back, to which he would reply with a middle finger and some snide remark, and Sam would laugh and throw some nerdy insult at him, and all will be well, except for the fact that Sam is not here, and neither is Cas. Thinking about the Angel hurt more than it should.
Because with Sam gone(don't say dead, Sammy can't be dead, because if Sammy is dead this means that Dean failed, and Dean knows what failure means but taking care of Sammy is the one thing he couldn't, wouldn't, refuse to fail at), all Dean have left of their little group is Cas, and then Cas just poofs away like it was nothing, and Dean prayed, too. From the casual, 'Hey Cas, how's things upstairs!' to full on, getting down on his kneesand praying. Nothing, is what he got back. Zip, zil, nada. Absolutely freakin' nothing. Dean clutches the bottle so hard that it shatters, and his hand bleeds, "Fuck!" He yells and swings his hands a bit, and ignores the fluttering noise behind his back, until Dean swings around and yells "Fuck!" yet again, this time louder.
"Your hand is bleeding." Cas takes a step forwards, hand out and glowing, and Dean takes a step back. "You." He points at Castiel, and the Angel tilts his head, with a little confused frown on his face and Dean almost forgives him instantly. Almost. "Where the hell have you been?!" The blood drips from his hand to the ground and soaks into his clothes but Dean only has eyes for his anger at this moment. "I was in Heaven."
Dean explodes into a mantra of accusations. "Heaven? Heaven! You were fucking off in the fucking Holy Land while Sam rots in Hell? What the hell were you doing!" This went on for another few minutes before Dean decides to calm down, and the pain in his hand became an actual distraction. The hurt-yet-confused look on Cas's face is not going to make him feel guilty(even if the slight twinge in Dean's stomach says otherwise.) "Heaven." Castiel breathes, and looks down. Dean feels guilty again.
"Heaven is...in a state of chaos. I am...doing my best to try and avert civil war among my brothers."
"Aw, hell." Dean swears, and Castiel frowns again.
"My apologies." He tells the older Winchester. "I heard your prayers, but was unable to answer." And Castiel did hear, but there was nothing he could have done. Dean looks up at Cas, looks down at the broken glass, looks up again, until Cas heals him and flies away before Dean could manage to say anything similar to an apology.
"Fuck." And Dean sits down, (not bleeding) hands over his face as he tries to best to not think about what kind of shitty friend(and failure of an older brother) he has been, because what kind of friend look into his friend's eyes and tells him to fuck off before even listening to what the hell Cas had to say- civil war in Heaven and all Dean cared about was his own freakin' problems that are not Cas's problems to begin with.
Drowning himself in alcohol and self-pity sounds like a better idea than ever.
A/N: Feedback is appreciated!