Two: Just Sam

Sam giggles, eyes half-mast, as Dean tries to hoist him up against the bed's headboard with a pillow for support. He's drooling again and there's so much of it that Dean's a little worried that his brother might choke on it all. So he's been trying to get Sam cleaned up, except, Sam's now on pain meds and once again, high.

"Y'r – yyrr in loooove!" he says, snorting, and Dean rolls his eyes as he grabs a face towel for Sam.

"Man, you were never so good with anaesthesia or pain meds," Dean says, dipping the towel into a bowl of warm water, squeezing excess water out, and patting it onto his brother's swollen face. "Look at all this stuff I gotta do for you. You owe me big time."

Sam blows a raspberry. A fucking raspberry. Dean sighs. What is his life?

Just then there is a knock at the door, and when Dean shouts a 'come in,' Cas opens it, and peeks in. "Hello, Dean," he says.

He'd gone out to shop for some supplies for Sam. They'd tried to hold on with Dean's bag of emergency supplies to avoid having to shop, and consequently running into the djinns but with Sam's size and capacity they'd been out by noon.

Dean dips the towel in water again, squeezes the excess out, and turns around. "Hey, Cas. What did you get?"

"Jello, like you said," he replies. "Soup and Gatorade, too."

"Awesome." Dean holds the towel to Sam's jaw and his brother sighs, leaning into the warmth. Dean stays there, wondering how Sam manages to make himself so small sometimes. "The djinns?"

I did not see them, but…" Cas comes close and presses his lips against Dean's. Dean kisses him back to get their five-minute meter running, and pulls away, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up his cheeks.

"But what?" he asks, voice a little hoarse. He clears it and tries again. "But what about the djinns?"

"They're around," Cas replies. "I can feel them. But when you and I are… intimate, they do honestly leave."

"Are you sure they're not tricking you into thinking they're not here when we you know…" Dean bites his lip for a moment, "you know. Do stuff. So they can spy on us when we think they're not?"

Cas smiles, sweet and simple. "Of course not. I'm an angel. They cannot trick me to that extent."

"If you say so."

"I'm sure of it."

Cas's earnestness is enough for Dean, and he takes a moment to marvel just how much power Cas holds back from him and Sam sometimes, and just how much Cas can actually do. Dean gets the towel off Sam's face and dries his jaw with the cuff of his sleeve. "We need to book tickets to Syria, man. Or call your wife here. We need to do something."

"I know," says Cas. "I'm not sure it's appropriate to demand of her to come here when I'm the one seeking divorce, so I think we should go visit her there."

"Good luck with that, then, 'cause I ain't sitting in an airplane that long."

Cas blinks at Dean, then remembers. "Your fear of flying."

"You got it."

"Dean, it will only be a few hours. Sam and I will be around to help you."

"Oh, really, Cas?" Dean asks, emptying the water bowl at the sink. "Really? Can you stop the plane from crashing?"

"Planes don't crash. Not that often."

"Say that to the people who died because it did crash!"

"You're being unreasonable."

"No I'm not!" Dean dries his hands on his jeans. "Ask Snoring McSnoreface here if you don't believe me," he says, tilting his head at his brother. "He's flown with me on a plane that was actually about to crash once. There was a demon in it, Cas! A demon!"

Cas opens his mouth to reply, sighs, and tilts his head at Dean, a shroud of understanding falling over his face. "You don't have to come along," he says. "I understand. I will go there by myself. If Sam wants to come along, I'll take him along as well. But don't worry about it. This is the last thing you should be stressed about."

Dean feels a small smile creep up his own face, looks away slightly, and nods. He glances at his sleeping brother, then at his watch, and hesitates for a bit, but takes a step forward, towards Cas. Cas's eyebrows scrunch in surprise, but Dean doesn't wait for him to speak. He merely leans over, pecks Cas's lips, feeling the moisture on them, kissing him softly. When Dean pulls back a little, Cas looks up at him and Dean shrugs. "Just need some more time away from the djinns," he says, voice barely above a whisper.

Cas nods, takes a step forward, and locks lips with Dean again.

They do it until they get an entire afternoon away from the djinns, all to themselves, as Sam continues on in his oblivious slumber. There are no words. They only have each other and the small, wet kisses, soft and gentle, slow and light, for most of the next few hours.

At the end of it, if Dean has to convince himself more than just a little, that it was all about pretending, he tries not to think about it. Cas actually being his lover or his fiancé is ridiculous, and it is always going to be that way. For now, acting like he loves his friend, for those stupid djinns, is the only thing he can do and if he's doing this, there is no point in half-assing it.

He has to be sure that it looks real enough and for that, he is prepared to work a little hard.

No, he tells himself, he is still not in love with Cas.

Not in love with Cas for sure.

~o~

Sam dreams of screaming children. Of Jack and Mom trying to escape monsters, running endlessly through fields of carcasses and blood. The sky is a bright orange, fire in the horizon, and Mom holds Jack's arm as they continue to escape the dangers that lie beyond. Jack stumbles and Mom catches him, they kick away human bones to clear their path, and there is a screech—a loud, shrill screech, and a whispering voice that speaks over them all.

"You're mine."

The sky turns a deep blue and they stop in their tracks. Sam wants to call out to them—help them—but he can't, and Mom grips Jack's arm hard as they look around, trying to find their way.

"You're mine."

There is lightning, followed by the growl of thunder. Clouds swirl, grey and black, and Sam's jaw drops when he sees it. When he sees who the sky is transforming into.

The face is the most beautiful and terrible face he's ever seen. Almond eyes, grey as ash, a straight nose with blood red lips. Hair golden, glowing in the blackness of the sky, and… and behind it all, the beautiful, luminous gleam of a halo.

It's the most terrifying face he's ever had to see. So angelic, but capable of the worst things. So evil.

Lucifer laughs again. At Jack.

You're mine.

"DEAN!"

Sam's up and alert, Dean's name on his lips even before he realises it. A door shuts somewhere in the room, and Sam looks about frantically to see his brother rush towards him.

"Sam?!"

Sam blinks at him, runs a hand over his sweat-dampened face, and sighs. "Sorry," he says, "I…"

"Jack and Mom?" Dean asks him.

Sam averts his gaze from his brother and nods. He presses his lips together to stop them from trembling and hopes that Dean isn't noticing this. He can feel his brother's eyes still on him, and he pushes his blankets away, if only to do something with his hands.

There is a dull ache along his jaw, going to his head and causing a pounding there. Sam knows he'd taken pain meds just before sleeping but he hopes the pain won't intensify from here. He can't take any more nightmares right now. It's too much, it's just, he needs a break.

"Hey." Dean takes a seat next to Sam on the bed, mattress dipping under his weight. Sam finally looks at him.

"You good?" Dean asks him. "Wanna go for a walk?"

Sam huffs out a small laugh. "We're not on a picnic, Dean."

"You don't need to be on a picnic to take walks. Plus we need to figure this djinn thing out and while we're at it…" He turns around, as if checking for them. "Cas and I decided to put the other stuff on hold for this week."

"Because…?"

"Because they want proof," says Dean. "Of me and Cas… you know."

Sam vaguely remembers laughing at something Dean had said earlier about pretending to be Cas's lover. It's still funny, even without the drugs, but right now his mood's soured from the dream and he's not sure he's up to teasing his brother.

Dean seems to catch on to this. "Come on," he says, tugging at Sam's sleeve, "let's go for a walk."

"Dean, I told you—"

"Sammy."

Sam takes in a shuddering breath and faces his brother. "I'm tired," he says. "Just leave me alone for a bit."

"I know."

"Then…" Sam bites back the frustration that's welling inside of him. "Then go find Cas, wherever he is…"

"He's gone to the library to look up stuff about djinn laws. For his divorce."

"Divorce." Sam shakes his head. He looks down, fidgets with the bedcovers. "Do we have to go to Syria?"

"You two? Yes," replies Dean, getting up and bending over at the minibar to pick up one of the beers from the case he'd bought yesterday. "I'm not coming," he says as he uncaps the bottle.

"Don't be ridiculous," says Sam. "You have to go, too."

"Nope. Cas said I can stay."

"Cas is always being soft on you," Sam mutters under his breath, letting himself smile just a little bit.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You said something."

"Something I didn't want you to hear, obviously."

Dean shakes his head and narrows his eyes from his corner of the room. "Do you have to be a bitch about this?"

"Do you realise that Cas probably really wants you there with him but just isn't saying so, because he cares about you?"

"And that's awesome of him," says Dean, "and I appreciate that and am accepting the gesture."

Sam rolls his eyes. His brother is never, ever going to understand. He's probably going to remain clueless forever and keep being insensitive with Cas like this. They will keep skirting around each other for eternities and Sam will probably have to tell them at some point—nope, he is not planning on playing matchmaker for his idiot brother and his idiot angel friend. Nope.

He wonders if this fake engagement is even going to help clearing up what Dean and Cas obviously feel for each other. They're so ignorant of it—Dean especially so. God.

He's not in the mood for this. He's just had a nightmare and he needs coffee and a shower in that exact order, then maybe some more painkillers that will stop that dull ache in his jaw, without giving him any more nightmares.

Dean seems relentless, though. He swigs the last of his beer and tosses the bottle, pockets the car keys and puts his jacket on, turning to Sam. "You were gonna join me for a walk," he says.

"No, I wasn't." Sam bites on the inside of his cheek after he says it to keep himself from snapping or gritting his teeth. "I'm not really up to it."

Dean frowns. "Must have been a hell of a nightmare for you to say no to any kind of exercise."

"Maybe." Sam takes a deep breath. "I just. I just."

He leaves it there. He just. He doesn't know he just what. It's always been a mess of indescribable emotions and thoughts inside of him. A mess he doesn't want to poke at with a ten-foot-long stick.

"Sammy, we'll get them back."

Dean's been saying this a lot lately. It's like a role-reversal. Before Cas was back, it was Sam who had to assure his brother and make him feel better about this. Now he finds himself devoid of any of the strength he'd had at that time. Like a deflated balloon.

He licks his lips.

"I know," he says. "I know, it's not just…" Sam's breath hitches and he fists the bedcovers underneath him. Dean notices and moves, seating himself on the opposite bed, fingers going to trace designs on his own bedcovers.

"Anything we need to talk about?"

Dean rarely offers like this. Sam is sure Dean thinks he's super fucked-up to even offer. He still shakes his head. "No. No. It's routine stuff."

"You routinely get nightmares?"

Sam looks into his brother's eyes, raises his eyebrows. "And you don't?"

"Yeah, I do."

"I don't see you wanting to talk about them."

"I'm different."

Sam wonders why Dean thinks so. It's been painfully obvious, since Dad, since the apocalypse, since Bobby, since everything, that there isn't a bigger myth than this—that he and Dean are different from each other. It turns out, they're the same and they barely know it themselves.

Sam always thought he wouldn't be his dad or his brother. Not that there was anything wrong with them, just that Sam had always wanted to be a different person. Himself. Just Sam. He thought he'd be normal. He wouldn't be a freak. He'd be different. He'd be Sam.

He couldn't have been further off the mark about all of that. Though, over the years he's come to accept this—the fact that he is no different—he wonders, still wonders if there is any part of him that separates him from his family. If sometimes, people think of him as anyone other than a Winchester, a hunter, a freak, Lucifer's vessel, or a monster.

He doesn't think people like that exist anymore.

"Hey Sasquatch," says Dean, interrupting his thoughts again. "Wanna take that walk now?"

Sam presses his lips together, shuts his eyes, and nods. Doesn't look like Dean is taking no for an answer today so he might as well go along with him. He'll come back and get his coffee and painkillers. Then he's not letting Dean come near him until this stupid jawache is better.

~o~

Cas is researching djinns when he senses them at the library. He can always sense them but they're in their physical form here, somewhere really close. His hairs stand up and he feels a twinge of irritation.

Deciding that he'd rather be in the hotel room with Dean and Sam, Cas gets up with his notes and tucks them under his arm before shutting the old book he'd been reading. He returns it to its dusty shelf and hurries out, into the waning sunlight. It's been a long, long day.

"Ameer!"

Cindy's cheery voice greets him the moment he starts to walk to the hotel. He grits his teeth and turns around to see her standing a few feet away from him, along with Frank, as she gathers her long hair into a ponytail.

"Didn't think you'd run out of there so soon," she says. "Did we make you uncomfortable?"

"You're spying on my fiancé and I for a week," says Cas. "You tell me if I should be comfortable with that."

"Deal's a deal," says Cindy. "You shouldn't have married Malika Aaliyah if you didn't want consequences."

"And yet," Cas says, tilting his head, "it's not the queen who's spying on me now, is it? She seems less concerned about this than you are."

"She's just too busy for you," Cindy replies. "Don't think that she doesn't care. She does, and we are loyal to her."

"That's good to hear." Cas turns around and starts on his path, but Frank and Cindy catch up to him. He swallows down his temper and continues, telling himself that anger will not help this situation at all. He hopes Dean's in the hotel room so they can do something to get rid of these djinns for a while.

"We saw that things got pretty hot and heavy earlier today, huh?" says Frank, as though he were reading Cas's thoughts.

"He's going to marry me," Cas replies, quickening his pace, shoes scuffing against the pavement. "You shouldn't be surprised when things get that way."

"Oh, we're not surprised," Cindy replies from behind him, catching up with him.

"Good." Cas bites his lip. "Are you here for anything else? Do you, perhaps, want to spy on Dean and I having sexual intercourse?"

"Ooh, temper," says Frank. "No, no. We're not here to watch you do the dirty. We just wanted to talk, man! We thought you'd be getting lonely out there at the library."

"Well, I'm not. I don't need your company. You may spy on me invisibly now."

"Nasty."

Cas rolls his eyes. He doesn't know how to get rid of them. He needs time away. He so badly needs them out of his sight right now. It's as if all his frustrations from a few minutes ago are getting magnified by the minute. He can barely stand it anymore.

He takes a look at Frank and Cindy, still walking alongside him, all smirks, and picks up his phone to dial Dean. The hotel, mercifully comes into view at that exact point.

Dean picks up on the third ring. "Cas?"

"Are you in the room?"

"No, I'm downstairs with Sam."

"Downstairs where?"

"Is everything okay?"

Cas takes a deep breath. "Yes, Dean. Please. Just tell me where you are."

"There's a park outside the hotel. I'm taking a walk with Sammy."

"I'm coming there."

Cas quickens his pace and ignores Frank and Cindy, reaching the park as soon as he can. When he gets there, Dean isn't around at first and Cas almost panics—almost, but then he finds Dean on the other side and true to his word, Dean is taking a walk with Sam.

Cas doesn't really think a lot after that. He only returns Dean's wave, to break into a run towards him, and if Dean's shocked at that Cas has no time to take note of his expressions or anything he's trying to say because he's reached Dean in the next few seconds, only to wrap his arms around him and pull him into a kiss.

The satisfaction of Dean kissing him back rivals that of the djinns disappearing from Cas's peripheral vision. It's only when he pulls back that he takes a look at Sam's face. At his jaw hanging, mouth agape, and eyes wide.

"Dude," Sam says, looking from Dean to Cas and back, and Cas realises that Dean did not provide him with much explanations about what happened during the time Sam spent unconscious on painkillers. So just for that, just so they can have more time to fill Sam in with what's going on, Cas pulls at Dean again, and Dean obliges with another kiss.

"Sam, we can explain," he says once they've separated.

Sam shakes his head. "Dude," he says again. "What the fuck?!"

Those words, in that moment, are what describe Cas's entire life ever since he met the Winchesters, he thinks. After spending an entire afternoon making out with Dean for the sake of the wellness of his and Dean's oral health, there are probably only three words that can fit into this situation, or the list of situations that the three of them alone seem to face all the time.

What the fuck.

~o~

"We can explain."

Dean realises that those are probably the only words that are keeping Sam quiet as they head back to the room. Their five minutes are running out and he and Cas are going to have to get the djinns to leave a few times over the course of the explanation, and of course, Sam's gonna make fun of them like he's bound to.

God, the things they have to do to keep themselves safe sometimes.

They reach the room and Dean leans forward to kiss Cas when he shuts the door behind him. However, Cas puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him, and looks at Sam.

"Sam," he says, "the djinns will not spy on your brother and I if we're being intimate. That's why, you must understand that this is necessary." He turns around and nods, then kisses Dean, and for some reason, Dean's heart is not sinking anymore at the supposed rejection.

Sam's eyebrow is already up as he seats himself on the bed, rubbing his jaw. "How long do you get? To keep them out?"

"Five minutes," says Dean, as he and Cas return to his own bed. "That's why we gotta do it a few times for longer conversations."

"And… what about… when you're…?" Sam's other eyebrow goes up as well and he waggles them, a small smirk appearing on his face.

Dean can feel a rush of blood into his cheeks. Beside him, Cas is beet red, too, and it's kinda cute, but Dean doesn't suppose he's ever going to tell Cas that.

"We're…" Dean clears his throat, "we're not gonna fuck, dude."

"But if it gives you more time, maybe you should," says Sam, snorting, and Dean would have kicked him had he not felt sorry about the fact that Sam's already in enough pain.

"Dude," he says, "go take your meds and your nap."

"No, I'm serious," Sam says, pretending like he totally is, voice all business-like as if he read a fucking study or ten online. Asshole. "It would make more sense to do it once and get a long time away from them," he says, "than to kiss him many times for five minutes each. No?" He turns to Cas. "Or is Dean a really good kisser?"

"He is fairly good—"

"Cas!"

"Dean, Sam's trying to make a point here."

Dean rolls his eyes at Cas and gets up. "He's yanking our chain." Sam grins up at him and Dean flips his brother off before grabbing pills and water. He comes back and gives both to Sam. "You were better off unconscious."

Sam takes them. "You don't have to get me to sleep to do it, Dean. We have enough cash for another room…"

"Sammy!"

"No, seriously."

"Go sleep, you asshole, or I'll play Kashmir all the way back home."

"As if you weren't planning on doing it already." Sam puts the pills and water on his bedside table. "Anyway. I gotta eat before I take these, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Dean sighs, rubbing his forehead. "I'll run to the diner across the street. What do you want?" He's already halfway out of the bed to collect his jacket when Sam replies.

"Chicken sandwich and fries."

"Good." Dean pockets his keys out of force of habit, even though he won't be driving. "Cas, you? Coffee? A burger?"

"Maybe a burger to keep you two company," says Cas, "and I'll come with you, Dean."

Sam snorts again. "Is that what you're gonna say to each other later on, as you," he makes air quotes, "'ward off the djinns'?"

"Ha ha," Dean deadpans, beckoning to Cas as they get to the door. "Very funny."

He feels his insides warm up when he sees the twinkle in Sam's eyes at that moment, just before he shuts the door behind him and Cas.

They make it to the diner without incident and the order arrives fairly soon. Dean is glad, because his stomach is starting to growl. While they head back to the hotel room, he has to huddle into his jacket because it is chilly all of a sudden, and Cas puts an arm around him, making him feel instantly better.

He is thankful when Cas pulls his arm back just before they enter their hotel room.

Dinner is silent. Sam doesn't seem to be in a mood to tease them any further. They eat their food together, only physically with each other but mentally in worlds of their own.

When they're done Dean clears their things and opens up another beer while Sam takes the pills, Adam's apple moving with each swallow of water. Dean watches, remembering that his brother had had a nightmare before, and wonders if it's actually a good idea to get him to take those meds again. Sam's in pain, though, so Dean guesses this is the best way.

Once he's done with the meds, Sam bends over and rests his elbows on his thighs, head in his hands, and Dean and Cas watch him in the silence that prevails. It's only when Sam gets up, muttering something about taking a shower before sleeping again, that Dean turns to Cas. When Cas leans over to give him another kiss Dean feels much, much better.

Sam gets into bed soon after, and he doesn't stir or even make a sound while he sleeps. Dean still keeps an eye on him, determined to be there for him in case another nightmare takes him over. However, Sam sleeps better than earlier and once it's late enough, Dean gets into bed as well. He doesn't say anything about Cas sitting at the dining table and claiming to watch over him and Sam. Doesn't say anything when he's dozing, only to feel the bed dip beside him, and warm arms enclose him.

Dean finds Cas's now familiar lips and locks them with his own, hand moving up and down Cas's back as they kiss. He curves a leg around both of Cas's and pulls him even closer, feeling Cas fist his nightshirt, running his tongue over the corner of Cas's mouth, tasting him. It lasts maybe a couple of minutes—hot breaths, sighs and gasps, and Cas's hand creeping underneath Dean's t-shirt to palm his back, his hips, stripping Dean of the t-shirt. Dean does the same with Cas, undoing his tie and his shirt shirt and getting them off, then Cas's trousers, before pulling off and kicking away his own sweatpants.

Cas's naked skin feels amazing against his own; warm and soft and nurturing, and Dean holds on, kissing him again and again, and feeling Cas reciprocate the same. He's glad the djinns won't visit them—not even if they fall asleep—and he's glad Cas is with him right now.

Dean is probably too tired at this point, but if you asked him about it in that moment, he hasn't felt this content since the day Sam was born.

~o~

"Help!"

Sam's tied up, arms and legs bound with ropes to a chair as she struggles. As Magda struggles.

A crack of the whip. She screams again. She's just a child. Just a girl.

"Help!" she shrieks, tearstained face pleading at Sam.

Another lash.

Sam wants to scream but his voice doesn't work. They took it away. Cut it out of him, so he can't do anything. He can't get out, can't talk.

"Please."

There's a gunshot. Then another. A dark, dark figure. Sam doesn't see who it is, but he does see her fall. Sees her die.

Pleasant Valley, Missouri.

The screams that he hears after are his own, of him waking up, and as Dean and Cas rush to him, Sam realises that this, somehow, was no ordinary nightmare. And if that's true…

"Magda," he whispers, his voice dissipating into the thick silence in the wake of his nightmare.

~o~

They're sitting quietly, lights dim, as Dean nurses a coffee. Sam can practically see the gears of his brother's mind turn as he thinks about everything that Sam just said. Sam's own jaw and head are aching something awful but he can't shake it off. Can't stop the images running through his head. He doesn't know how to convince Dean and Cas, though, that what he saw just now was most definitely a vision and not just a nightmare.

While Sam thinks of ways to make himself clearer to his brother Dean manages to finish his coffee and puts the cup down before rubbing his eyes.

"You wanna drive to California right now, that's what you're saying?" he asks Sam.

"Yes, Dean, Magda—"

"Dude, you don't get visions anymore. Remember what happened the last time you believed that?"

Sam flinches. Of course he remembers. Why on earth wouldn't he? But that's beside the point.

"It felt different."

"Different, how?"

"It was vivid."

"I get vivid dreams, too," says Dean. "Doesn't mean they're any different from the rest of 'em. Plus you've been taking some pretty heavy-duty meds there."

Sam grits his teeth. "I know."

"And," Dean continues, as if he doesn't notice how annoyed Sam is already, "we can't leave this place. The djinns are on our asses and Cas needs to divorce that queen or whatever."

"Then you stay," says Sam. "I'll go and check on her."

"Why can't you just call? I'm pretty sure that social worker gave me her number. Beth, yeah?"

Sam's kinda surprised that Dean remembers her name, but he nods. Cas, who has been sitting quiet this entire time, finally speaks. "Who's Beth?"

"Just the chick who worked Magda's case," says Dean, waving the question off.

Cas's eyebrows furrow, but he doesn't say anything. Sam sighs. "Look, Dean, if it's all the same—"

"No, it's not! You can't just leave in the middle like this, Sam. And with – you've just had this dental treatment and the meds are making you see all kinds of weird crap!"

"I know, but—"

"But what?" Dean asks him. "Why can't you at least wait until the morning?"

"What if it's all true?"

"Then she's fucking dead and there's nothing you can do about it!"

The words hit Sam like a high-speed bullet train. If his nightmare… or vision is true, then Magda is dead. Someone shot her. He'd tried, tried that day to save her, promised to be there for her… but there is nothing he can do from here. Nothing he can do to bring her back.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Dean standing over him. He moves over on his bed and Dean sits beside him, scooting back so his legs are hanging over the edge of the bed. He has his wallet in his hand, and Sam watches as he opens it and draws out Beth's card.

"Take it," Dean says, handing it to Sam. "Wait for the morning. Call her and find out about Magda. If you still need to go after that, I'll drive you there myself. I don't care if the djinns give me a toothache or four for that, but I'll help you. Okay?"

Sam takes the card and stares at it without really reading whatever's written on it. He licks his lips. Nods. "Okay."

"Good," says Dean, patting Sam's back twice. He gets up and moves over to his own bed, then turns to Sam. "You gonna sleep now?"

"Gonna try," Sam replies.

"Great. 'Cause that coffee didn't help me and I can't sit any longer. Cas and I are right here so you can holler if you need anything else. Cool?"

"Cool," says Sam, setting Beth's business card aside and settling into his bed. He pulls the covers around himself and snuggles in, only stopping when he realises something. Both Dean and Cas are… well, they're in their boxers. And while Dean's known for sleeping in his boxers in the past Sam's not sure why Cas, who doesn't sleep, is stripped down, too.

He frowns, turning around to his brother, who is busy fluffing his own pillows.

"Hey Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you…?" Sam's eyes go to Cas, who is standing patiently beside Dean, as if waiting for Dean to right his bed. As if…

Fuck.

"Are you and—" Sam smiles, the weirdness and hilarity of the situation just hitting him. "Dude, are you and Cas sleeping in the same bed?"

Dean takes a bit to answer, and Sam watches him take his own time to right the pillows and his blanket until he does. When he finishes, he leans over to kiss Cas, to kiss the man he supposedly isn't in love with, on the mouth.

"You're talking as if you and I have never shared."

"That's different."

"Different how? What, I can't share a bed with my best friend now? Gross, Sammy."

"Well, for one, we've never cuddled in our boxers," says Sam.

"Who said Cas and I are cuddling? It's just…" Dean looks around and shrugs. "Hot, okay?"

Sam snorts. "You're saying you don't know what's different? After all this? Do me a favour, Dean. If you're going to have sex, please wake me up so I can book another room for myself. I have no intention of waking up and watching you two do things to give me a heart attack."

Dean kisses Cas again, stopping just to say three words to Sam.

"Fuck off, asshole."

Sam's never been happier to go back to sleep after that one. He hears Dean talk quietly and Cas reply, equally quiet, and wonders if they will try to extend their five minutes with any more kisses. He never finds out, though, for sleep comes swiftly, and when he wakes up in the morning after another dream of fires and death, there is only one thing that he remembers to do.

Beth's number is right there at his bedside table where he'd left it last night and he retrieves it. He takes a few deep breaths before he gets to his phone and dials the number. She picks up almost immediately.

"Hello?"

"Hello? This is – uh – I'm…" Sam strains to remember his alias, "Agent – Agent Morrison. From Magda Peterson's case?"

"Agent…? Oh! Your partner, Agent Manzarek. I, uh, gave him this number."

"Yes… he," Sam turns to Dean, who is shaving in the bathroom, door wide open behind him, "he gave me your card."

She doesn't hang up, and he can hear her breathing from the other side of the line. He always wondered why Dean didn't call her, but when he sees Cas hovering outside, waiting for Dean, he knows the answer. Even if Dean, the idiot, doesn't.

He clears his throat. "Anyway. You sent her to her aunt, right? Magda?"

"Magda. Yes, we did send her to California."

"Yeah. So – so is it okay… can I contact her? Not her, but her aunt? Just wanted to check if she's all right."

"Any… particular reason for that, Agent?" Beth's starting to sound suspicious, and Sam realises that this was probably a bad idea. God knows what she thinks of him from this conversation, about him calling out of the blue and asking about a child.

Jesus. He really didn't contemplate this enough. He should have at least rehearsed what he wanted to say to her before calling and coming across like a creep.

"I…" He licks his lips. "No particular reason. My partner and I just like to follow up on cases like this. It was pretty tragic. So…" He leaves it there.

"I'm sure you've seen worse."

"Yes, but… it was one of those cases that we never forgot. You understand?"

She takes a few moments to process that. "Okay," she says, "maybe you can visit us with a letter from your SAC and we'll tell you."

Sam's heart sinks. He did not think of this but it seems like a reasonable request to have for some thirty-something dude asking about a child. He doesn't think he can use Beth's help, though. He'll just have to hack into their system or use another way to find out about Magda.

"Oh, oh, okay," he says to Beth. "We got transferred from our Iowa branch, actually, so your town is out of our new branch's jurisdiction, but – but if it's that much paperwork… it's – it's okay. Thank you."

He's about to hang up the phone, but Beth calls out from the other side. "Wait."

"Yes?"

"Do you really not know?"

"Know what?"

"I thought it showed up in your files but you were just calling to…" She doesn't elaborate. "Your partner still working with you? How did you get my number?"

"Yes, yes, he—" Sam turns to Dean, "he's engaged now and everything, and like I said, we're at another branch."

"Didn't need that information," she says, "but check your files. It happened the very night we sent Magda to California."

Goosebumps erupt all over Sam when he hears that and he knows. He knows. He still manages to get his voice out to ask the question to Beth. "What happened?"

"She was killed," she says, voice morose and a little angry. "Someone shot her when she was using the bathroom. Two bullets. She was dead immediately."

Sam swallows. "Where did this happen?"

"Pleasant Valley, Missouri."