Dean knew he'd gone to bed with the light on, and, yeah, okay, maybe he'd been a little drunk, but… What the hell?, he wondered. He looked around his room, which was pretty much the same, save the warm glow that surrounded him. It wasn't the dim lamplight he was used to. It felt real. Alive, even. Like it was breathing, and, with each breath, a puff of light filled the room. Several different colors pulsed in the air around him each time, and Dean stared at it in awe as he sat up in his bed. "This can't be real," he mumbled.
"It isn't."
The voice was gruff, and… inexperienced. As though the words were new to their owner. And yet, somehow, it seemed centuries old. Dean knew that voice. He'd heard it before. Castiel, he realized, eyes widening.
"Well, it is real, I suppose. But not any version of reality you're used to," the voice mused.
"Castiel?" he asked.
The light around him grew brighter, soft oranges and yellows beaming out and flowing toward Dean. "Yes," Castiel said. He sounded happy, and Dean couldn't help but smile back at the enthusiastic light before narrowing his eyes and wondering aloud, "Are you… Are you seriously just light?"
"At the moment, yes," Castiel replied. "I am focusing my energy on speaking with you. It is…," a strand of light above Dean's head burst with a whipping sound and the man jumped to his feet. "It is extremely difficult to manifest myself in a human form while doing this."
"W-what?" Dean leaned against his wall, gulping as the light grew brighter, full of such power that the young man began to fear it. "What do you want from me?"
The colors dimmed, desaturating, and Dean wondered if that was Castiel's way of frowning at him. "I don't want anything from you, Dean Winchester," Castiel said. "Except, perhaps, companionship."
"But I thought… I thought I was…"
"Dreaming, yes," Castiel confirmed. "You are, Dean."
Dean pushed off the wall and narrowed his eyes at the hovering light, extending a finger to point at Castiel. "Are you real? Or am I just losing my mind?"
"I'm real here."
"That doesn't really make sense."
Castiel's glow brightened and dimmed a few times. "For your own safety, and mine," he said firmly, "I must tell you as little as possible about me."
"Dude, what the hell?" Dean dragged a hand down his face and closed his eyes, the light still faintly visible through his eyelids. "You can't just… You can't-"
"You're upset?" Castiel was softer this time, but he sounded troubled by Dean's words.
"I'm confused, man." Dean sighed, opening his eyes and staring blankly at the only representation of Castiel he was provided with. "You're not even a man. You're a freakin' light. A glowing cloud. What the hell?"
"Quite the contrary," Castiel muttered.
"What?"
"Never mind, Dean." Castiel sighed, a string of pink light flowing from his bright center. "I will show myself to you in a more… recognizable way next time."
Dean scoffed. "If you can find the mojo, you mean?"
Castiel flickered, brightening so much that Dean had to shield his eyes with the back of his arm, wincing as the piercing sound he'd first heard the night before filled the room. "Do not underestimate me, Dean Winchester," Castiel said, his voice stern and echoing all around the man. "I will discover a way to see you face to face. I must."
"Why?" Dean shouted over the noise, his eyes still shut even as the light died down. "Why must you?"
"Goodbye, Dean." Castiel's voice softened as he said, "Sleep well."
And then there was nothing. No piercing noise, no determined voice, no light. No Castiel.
Dean woke with a throbbing headache, groaning as he kicked the sheets off of him and rubbed his temple with the end of his palm. His lamp was still on, a startling reminder of Castiel and the events of his dream. Shaking his head, Dean clenched his jaw and swung his legs out of bed. As he stood, he glared at the lamp beside him and cursed. He was losing his mind. Or, there was some sort of force in the universe that was fucking with him. Or… Castiel was real, and refused to tell him what he was, let alone how in the hell he knew him.
"Fucking dick."
Working on the Impala was a great distraction. From his dad's death, from his and Sam's argument, from… Castiel. Dean tuned out of his thoughts and turned up the car radio, singing along to Led Zeppelin while repairing his Baby.
It was a comfort, in a way, that he was capable of fixing something. He couldn't save his dad. He couldn't repair his relationship with Sammy after he'd moved to California. He couldn't even rid himself of his own dark thoughts after the events of the last month. But he could fix the car, and he was good at it. He knew what he was doing, there was no uncertainty. No wondering if he was losing his fucking mind.
"Damn it, Castiel, you're killing me," Dean muttered beneath the car.
"Um, what?"
Rolling out from under the Impala, Dean was greeted with the sight of his confused and slightly concerned brother. He cleared his throat as his muscles tensed, standing up and brushing dirt off his chest. "Nothing."
Sam smirked. "Were you talking to yourself?"
"Maybe." Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up. What do you want? I'm kinda busy with the-"
"I know, Dean, I just… I wanted to make sure we were okay. With everything that's happened, I don't need you to have a reason to be mad at me, or vice versa."
Dean clenched his jaw, picking up the rag he'd set atop the Impala and wiping the grease from his hands with it. "We're fine. It's fine."
With a huff, Sam smirked and shook his head, looking away from his stubborn brother. "Dean, I mean it. We're all each other has, now, and-"
"I said we're fine, Sam," Dean interrupted, tossing the dirty rag to the side and shifting his attention to the car behind him. He leaned in from the open passenger side and turned off the radio. "I mean it. Don't worry about it." When he stood back up and faced his brother, he rolled his eyes at the exasperated bitchface he received. "Look, I've got other things to worry about, Sammy," he said. "You're not gonna be one of them. Let's just…," he paused, swiping across the air in front of him with his arm, "move on."
Sam sighed, nodding lightly to himself as he said, "Fine."
"Fine."
"Jess and I are staying," Sam said.
"What?" Dean shifted where he stood, crossing his dirt-smudged arms and frowning at his brother.
Sam nodded to the house in the distance, shoving his hands in his pockets. "We're staying here for at least a month, we've decided."
"Sam-"
"No, it's not up for discussion."
Dean lifted a hand to point at his brother. "You've got law school to-"
"To get back to next year, Dean. And I'm able to do my classes this year online." Sam shrugged. "I'll just have to drop out of a few electives. Which is fine, I mean, they don't really matter."
Shaking his head, Dean asked, "Why're you doing this, Sam?"
Sam looked down, thinning his lips as he brought a hand out of his pocket to play with his hair. "I just…," he sighed. "I just need a change of pace, after all that's happened. You seem to be more affected by this than I am, but… but that doesn't mean it hasn't affected me at all. I need you, Dean." Sam looked up and offered his brother half a smile. "I need my big brother, so I'm staying a little longer. Okay?"
Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally choking out the words, "Yeah. That's okay."
"Good," Sam said, dropping his hand to his side and lowering his head.
"What about Jess?" Dean wondered. "I mean, she's got school, too, doesn't she? And a job?"
Sam smiled to himself as he lifted his head. "Jess has online classes, too. And she wants to stay here," he chuckled. "She wants to get a job with Anna at the freakin' Wiener Hut. She actually likes it here."
"Hey, it isn't bad." Dean reached out and smacked his brother on the side of his arm.
"Yeah, it's really not."
Dean grinned, stepping closer and ruffling his little brother's hair, even though he had to reach for it. Sam batted his hand away and Dean broke out into laughter. "So," he said, "how long are you gonna stay?"
"'Til we feel it's time to go, I guess."
Nodding, Dean smirked at his brother. "You gonna go to Jo's big junkyard birthday bash, then?"
"Yeah, of course. Jess sorta came up with the idea, anyway. So she's got to go."
Dean rolled his eyes, turning back to his car and slamming the passenger side door as he mumbled, "Not like you'd go simply 'cause Jo's like a sister to us, or anything."
"That's not fair," Sam said as Dean turned back to him. "I haven't seen her in years. I came back and she's dating a girl, dude. I didn't even know-"
"Well, that, I didn't even know about 'til I met her."
Sam frowned. "Huh. Wonder why she kept it a secret for so long."
Rolling his eyes for the umpteenth time that day, Dean walked to the mini-fridge in the garage and pulled out two beers. "It isn't some big scandal," he said, handing his brother a bottle and opening his own, "she just didn't want to bring it up so soon after…"
"Oh," Sam nodded. "Right."
"Besides," Dean mumbled, taking a seat on the hood of his car, "a person's sexuality is their own damn business. Maybe she just didn't want anyone to know about it yet…"
Sam chuckled as he sat beside his brother, shaking his head. "Right. Because Jo is the type to be give a crap about what anyone else thinks."
Dean narrowed his eyes at the younger Winchester, who gave him a pointed look. "What?"
"Nothing," Sam said with a smirk, opening his beer and taking a sip. "But, yeah, anyone who has something to come out about has gotta do it in their own time."
Dean's frown only deepened at that. There was no way Sam could know he was bi, right? Jo wouldn't tell him, and Dean certainly never told him. "Shut up," the mechanic muttered. "You'd better not dent this car."
Sam huffed, amused, as he leaned against the windshield. "Whatever, Dean. I probably weigh about the same as you."
"Uh-huh, Gigantor," Dean teased, dropping the issue of his sexuality and taking a moment to enjoy a beer with his brother.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, Sam and Jess sticking around for a while. Maybe he'd be able to get closer to Sam, like they'd been when they were kids. Maybe there were things besides his car that he could, in fact, fix.
