Dean woke in the hotel bed with a jump, covered with a sheen of sweet. He kicked off the sheets covering him, wiping the sweat from his forehead, inhaling and exhaling deeply. The sun peaked through the curtains of the window at the far side of the room.

"Sam?" The hunter called, his voice much raspier than expected. Breath, Winchester. In and out. He cleared his throat. "Sammy?" The twin bed was empty though, nothing but ruffled covers. He was still gone. "Cass…?"

"I'm here, Dean." The gravelly voice murmured, making Dean jump. He honestly didn't think the angel would be there. He was undeniably relieved though. There was something about his voice, though. It was quiet, hopeless, like he was lost.

"Hey, man." Dean breathed, leaning up in the bed, managing to pull himself to his feet. His legs ached, but his head was far worse. It was like he had a bad hangover, but he wasn't drinking last night. The hunter rubbed his head as he approached the angel who was leaning his own head against the wall, staring blankly at the bathroom door. "God, I had a rough night." He received no response. Castiel refused to even glance at him. "One hell of a nightmare… Another one of those hell ones." Again, Dean paused, but he still got nothing from the angel. Usually Castiel would give him some kind of attention. "Except this one had you."

Finally, Dean received something. For a mere moment, Castiel face contorted before it snapped back to his regular, blank repression. "Cass," Dean uttered, his voice not near as steady as it was a moment ago. "What the hell is going on? Was that – did that really happen Cass?"

Castiel's lips pinched as his jaw clenched. His eyes ripped away from the bathroom door ahead of him and locked on Dean's green ones. "Dean," The angel's voice had a new tone to it – anger. It was powerful enough to send a shiver down the hunter's spine. "It was just a dream, like all the other ones you've had of hell. Vivid, realistic, but false."

Dean's determined expression faltered and he nodded. "Alright." He finally breathed deeply, closing his eyes. "Alright." Castiel had never lied to him before; he had no reason to lie to him now. It took a moment, but his thoughts were jarred back to the present. "Where's Sam? Did he ever come back last night?"

"I don't know." Castiel replied, stepping past Dean looking at the twin bed, his expression returning to its default – clear and calm.

"You don't know?" Dean asked, frowning. "Did he or didn't he? You were here all night, Cass, wouldn't you know if he showed up or not?"

Castiel turned back to the hunter, a hint of irritation showing on his face. "No, Dean. I was not here all night. I was ordered to protect you, but that does not mean I am a guardian angel. I have separate things to attend to." The angel stopped, examining his face. He saw the hurt on it, although it was faint. Castiel could read him like a book. "I'm sorry, Dean, but I do not know where your brother is." He didn't want to sound so angry; he was stressed from the night before though. Extremely stressed.

"Forget it." Dean growled, waving away the apology. "We have bigger shit to worry about." He paused a moment. "Sam left to go pick up dinner around seven… God dammit, I thought he was just hanging out at the bar or something." He rubbed his forehead wearily as the angel watched him intently from behind.

"Maybe he got a lead on your hunter." Castiel offered lowly, tilting his head to the side. He was lying through his teeth. He had a very good idea of what really happen to Sam, but how would he be able to tell Dean? He couldn't. Dean would not find out about his demon.

"He would have called." Dean retorted, shaking his head. He grabbed his change of clothes and went into the bathroom. His nightshirt with sticking against him, probably do to the amount of sweat. Those "nightmares" must have really gotten to him. The hunter washed off in the shower, changed his clothes and was back in front of the waiting angel within five minutes. "Let's go."

Castiel's brow furrowed. "Go?"

"We gotta find Sam, Cass." Dean replied, plucking the car keys off of dresser and his light backpack of clothes. "Unless you feel like flying off again." Sure enough, when Dean turned around to look at Castiel, he was already gone. The hunter sighed deeply. "Freakin' angel…"At that, Dean left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Dean searched the town. Every bar, every restaurant, but there has been no sign of it. He even asked the waiters and owners if he had seen him, but his struggles were in vain. There was no sign of Sam anywhere. It was late afternoon when he finally finished the town. There was no point in staying. The hunter got back into the impala just as the sun began to dip. Sam must have gone elsewhere.

"Where are you going?"

Dean leaped in surprise, car swerving, eyes shooting up to the mirror to see Castiel sitting in the backseat. "Dammit, Cass!" He snarled, eyes flashing back to the road as he steadied the Impala. "Don't do that!"

"My apologies." Castiel uttered lowly.

Dean glanced back to the mirror. "You don't have to sit in the back." He stated, inwardly rolling his eyes. "You can sit up here." Given the invitation, Castiel snapped into the passenger seat next to the hunter, eyes locked on him.

"Where are you going, Dean?" The angel asked again, his voice firm this time.

"I'm getting the hell out of here." Dean replied, clenching the wheel with a little more intensity. "Sammy isn't here and I'm going to find him." Castiel didn't reply, but his gaze did travel away from the human and back out the window. There was ten minutes of comfortable silence between the two before Dean finally cleared his throat. "Cass, I need to talk to you, but you have to promise me you won't be flying off, okay?"

Castiel met Dean's eye and nodded. "Of course, Dean." He replied his voice significantly more gentle now. "What is it?"

"You know the dream I was telling you about?" Dean went on, eyes locked on the street in front of him. The angel's stomach churned. He didn't want to talk to Dean about this. He hated to lie to him. All his wounds had healed when the spell ended, but by that time, Dean was gone and the holy fire had fallen into nothing. He planned to just push this into a closet of things he never spoke of. Never remembered. He couldn't do that if Dean kept forcing him to talk about it. "You were in it… You've never been in any of my dreams about hell before." He paused, licking his lips. It was an obvious struggle for him. "Cass, man, you were…" He stopped though.

"Dean." Castiel stepped in, seeing his pain. The angel reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder gingerly. "I'm here. You needn't worry about this. I was a nightmare."

Dean's breathing steadied as Castiel dropped his hands. "Cass," He began, reaching to take the angel's hand, giving it a small squeeze. "Thanks." The hunter offered a smile, keeping their hands interlocked for a few more minutes before carefully bringing his back to the wheel.

As promised, Castiel didn't go anywhere.