"Cas?" He was… He was standing right in front of me. He was smiling. Why…

Wait, why was that weird? Why wouldn't he be there? Why wouldn't he be smiling? Why was I questioning this?

"Yeah?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. I shook my head, smiling a little bit.

"Nevermind. Just… just enjoying saying your name." I muttered.

"You ready to go?" He asked. I furrowed my brows.

"Go? Where?"

"Our reception, Kylie." He reminded me. "Remember?"

"Reception?" I took a look down at myself, and saw… A white dress. Another look at Castiel and he was in a suit, an… an actual suit. We were…

I saw the ring on my hand. We were married. We had just gotten married. Of course, how could I forget?

I looked back up at Cas, and smiled. "Right. Sorry. It's just… Kind of a little unbelievable to me still, you know?" I asked. He nodded.

"I understand the feeling." He agreed. "It's a very… human one."

I looked around once more, and saw that… that we were in the Bunker? And a door was in front of us, one that led to a room I didn't quite think of off the top of my head. I looked back at Cas one more time, trying to get all the pieces to fit in to place.

The door opened, and… everyone was on the other side, sitting around the B.A.M.T. that had two tablecloths on top of it. Sam was there, Dean was there, Jack was there, Kelly was there, Rowena was there, T.J. was there, Crowley was there, Jody and Claire were there, Kevin and his mom were there, my family…

My parents were there.

Art and Josiah were there.

Danny was there.

Everyone… Everyone that I ever cared about was there.

I stared upon the scene in a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. Something was wrong. These were all people I cared about, why wouldn't they be there? Why would something be wrong with them being there? Weren't they supposed to be there?

I looked around at them all again, just a little more, and saw… Differences. Sam and Dean were both beaten and bruised, and looked almost… bittersweet about everything. Jack's eyes were glowing bright yellow. Kelly's stomach was bleeding, Rowena's hair was a mess and sticking together, T.J.'s head wasn't sitting quite right on his neck, Crowley had a hole in his chest, Jody's nose was broken, Claire looked beaten and defeated, Kevin's eyes weren't there, his mom had scratches and bruises everywhere… Mom and dad and art and Josiah and Danny were all bloody messes.

I turned to look at Castiel, and saw the rose on his lapel start to melt over his chest. I looked in to his eyes and saw…

His eyes were burnt out, hollow, and there was someone behind him. I couldn't see their face, it was hidden in shadows, but his eyes…

They glowed red, and showed signs of a sadistic sort of smile.

"Nice try," he said, shoving Castiel out of the way. I watched as he fell to the floor, limp and lifeless. The man stepped out of the shadows and his face… He was Lucifer. I looked back over at everyone once more, and saw a room full of skeletons and death where the people had been. I looked back over at Lucifer, taking a terrified step backwards. My back slammed hard against the doorframe, stopping me from moving any more. Lucifer held up an angel blade, one that was permanently stained red. He kept smirking, and his eyes kept that same red burn of hellfire and damnation. "You're next, bitch." He shoved the angel blade towards my stomach, his eyes never leaving mine.

I woke up with a start, breathing heavily as I stared up at the popcorn ceiling. My breaths were shaky, but as I looked around I remembered where I was. I was with Sam and Dean. We were in a hotel. Jack was in the other room with Donatello.

So many people in that dream were dead now. Those that were still alive... I'd hurt a lot of people. There were a lot of things that I blamed myself for. My family was gone. Friends were gone. Crowley was gone. Cas…

I stopped breathing for a moment, that fact sinking in once more. Cas was dead too, and I… I'd just dreamed he was back. That we were married. I could feel myself wanting to break down inside again, and took a quick glance over at the Winchesters. They were asleep now, but they usually didn't sleep too much longer than I did. I reminded myself to start breathing again, and booked it with my clothes to the bathroom. Once I was in there, I tossed the towels and looked down at my hands again.

In my dream, they'd been fine. There was no proof of the damage I'd done to myself in reality. But now…

I used the time I had to toss the paper towels off of my hands so I could wash off the excess dried blood. I cried quietly as I did, I couldn't help it. I used my upper arms to wipe the tears away as I finished cleaning myself up. My knuckles were extremely beat up and scabbed, but otherwise pretty OK. They would just hurt like a bitch for a few days; especially if I tried to make a fist.

I took one more glance at my hands before I kept going, doing my best to keep tears from my eyes as I did. Once I was dressed and my teeth and hair were brushed, I headed back out of the bathroom. Dean and Sam were up by then. I tossed Dean his shirt back. He caught it with ease. "No blood. No scuffs. Just a little wrinkled." I promised as he gave it a once-over. "And it may, you know, look like a person much smaller than you slept in it." Dean rolled his eyes at me as he stuffed it back in his bag.

"You want to go get breakfast?" He asked me. I nodded. Him and Sam shared a glance that reminded me of who would be talking with me about the hands thing. I waited for Dean to get dressed and quietly followed him out, preparing for what would probably be a difficult conversation. Neither of us spoke when we got in the car.

Actually, he didn't really say anything to me at all. He just kind of… Sat there beside me, pensive and quiet. Finally though, we pulled in to the parking lot of a donut shop. Dean turned to look at me. He took a glance at my hands before meeting my gaze, and let out a sigh.

"Did it make you feel better?" He asked. I thought for a moment before shaking my head.

"No." I muttered. "It just keeps getting worse."

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"I… I tried to light a flame in my hand again." I explained. "And when that didn't work, I tried moving the remote. And when neither of those worked, I just… I feel useless now. I feel like I'm worthless and useless and the reminder just made it all so much worse, and looking at hands that I couldn't fix… It just…" I clenched my hands in to a fist once, and winced at the sting of the action before forcing them loose. "I went from doing anything and everything to not even being able to fully recognize the sigils that Sam drew."

"You're not useless, Kylie." Dean said.

"Really?" I asked. "Then why can't I do anything anymore?"

"You can still do things." He pointed out. "You can fight. You can talk. You're still smart and can research. You're still useful."

"I don't feel useful." I muttered. "I just feel like I'm… I'm back where I started, years ago."

"Well…" Dean shrugged. "You're going to have to find a way to become useful to yourself, then."

"How do I do that?"

"I can't answer that for you," Dean replied. "I can just tell you that I still believe in you."

"What… What are you doing?" I asked. "You seem like you've got a decent handle on your head and your responses. I don't know if it means you're grieving poorly or extremely well, but… It looks like it's working. What are you doing?"

"To be honest, kid…" Dean shrugged. "I don't have a damn clue. I'm just sticking to the plan as best as I can, and continuing to move forwards." He took another glance at my hands. "You're looking like you're having a hard time sticking to it, though. I'm pretty damn certain that a part of it was no hopelessness on your end."

"Didn't you go to a bar last night?"

"I played a few rounds of pool and gave the shot I ordered to the bartender." He narrowed his eyes a bit after saying that. "I didn't drink because I made a promise to you."

"What do you want me to say about this, Dean?" I asked, holding up my hands. "I can apologize, but I don't think that's what you want."

"I want you to buck up and be the strong woman that I know Castiel fell in love with." He replied. He didn't raise his voice, he didn't change his tone, he just stated the words in a matter-of-fact tone. "Because I know that you're better at this. I know you're grieving, we all are. But you can't destroy yourself along this road. I know exactly what's at the end of it, and it's never good." I took another look at my injuries, and knew Dean was right. What I was doing now, it wasn't going to lead me any closer to some form of closure. It would just lead to more pain.

"You're right." I muttered.

"Damn straight." He replied, and I could see a small smile on his face. "Come on, let's go get breakfast." I nodded, choosing to take Dean's lead in how to handle this. Don't be self-destructive, put it somewhere else. Dean was putting his pain in to moving forwards and figuring out the situation at hand. If he could do that, I could do the same.

For a moment, I wondered what Dean would do with two mimics instead of one. I pushed that thought to the side with a small smile, and helped Dean order donuts. The drive back was more amicable than the drive here, and I couldn't help but feel a little happy about that. I could find a common ground with Dean.

I munched on a donut or as we went back. After Dean requested some I passed one of the treats over to him. He looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn't certain how to say it.

"Spit it out." I muttered, nudging him. He shook his head.

"It's nothing, just…" He thought for a moment. "You and him are a lot alike, in different ways." I didn't have to ask who the him was. I knew it was Cas.

"How so?"

"When Cas was Cas, and we all for that matter, thought Lucifer threw you in for a permanent deep-freeze… He didn't talk much about it to us, when we were all together. He kind of kept to himself. He was just… He was a different man, then. He was a little more reserved, and determined to do something right. He didn't always do perfect at it, but… he tried. It was his own form of self-destruction, I think." He looked a little more sorrowful at that. "He was willing to destroy himself in the name of doing something to even the scores in his head, you know?" I nodded. I knew that feeling all too well also, and I believed Sam and Dean did too. All of us did, at one point or another. You just… you got so caught up in the job and in doing the right thing that you completely forgot about everything else going on, every other right or wrong besides the wrong you were trying to make right. It was a destructive feeling that could turn a person in to a destructive force.

And it was something I was trying so, so hard to fight, because I had nothing to raze after and no way to do any razing. Lucifer was in another dimension, the Men of Letters were back in London, and I had no way to go and attack anything else. I only had, well, myself.

"Why are you telling me this, Dean?" I asked politely. "Besides the fact that I asked."

"Because it's one of those things that can go good or bad, and I don't know which way it'll go for you." He replied. "But I do know that you're a strong one, you've kinda gotta be to make it this long without hitting the perma-death jackpot, you know?" I nodded. "So I figured you deserved to know that you're a little bit like he was, when he still thought you were dead. You're just as quiet about him and stubborn as you and him can be." I wanted to say something, but he kept speaking. "And I know that you just lost someone that you loved, and that for a long time it'll be hard to talk about that, but… If you want to talk or just reminisce or something… We're here for you, alright?"

"Did…" I wasn't certain if I wanted to ask that question, ask if Cas reminisced or what it was that he said. I was almost afraid of what the answer would be.

No, that's not right. I was afraid that I would never live up to the person Castiel thought I was.

"What about Mary?" I asked instead, switching topics slightly. "What if you wanna talk about her, or I wanna talk about her? Is that… Is that still OK?"

"Mom's dead." He stated that bluntly, in a matter-of-fact way. "I know that. I've accepted that and I'm still just accepting that. But if you want to talk about her too… I know Sam will want to listen." I looked down a little at that. I could understand Dean not wanting to talk about it, but still… I wanted to apologize, someday soon. I just didn't know how.

"OK." I nodded, and went back to eating my donut a little quieter. We pulled up to the motel and walked to the room, with Dean holding the donuts.

"Hey. Hey." Sam greeted us, closing his laptop to look at us. Dean waved the bag of donuts for a moment, then tossed it to Sam. He caught it with ease as Dean spoke.

"We should probably hit it." Dean said.

"I'll get the others." I offered. Dean nodded to me, and I turned across the hall. I could hear Sam start to speak to his brother as I moved.

"Uh, I was just gonna call you two, actually. Um, look… we are gonna be on the road a long time today. Right?" I tuned out the conversation after that point. Not worth listening at the moment. I walked down two doors until I hit the door to Donatello and Jack's room.

"Hey, time for breakfast!" I knocked on the door a few times, politely yet firmly. Nobody answered, though. I furrowed my brows, and knocked a little louder. "Jack? Donatello? Breakfast!" No answer. One more attempt at knocking, much louder this time. "Hey, wake up guys. Rise and shine. There's donuts!" No answer. I let out a sigh. "I swear if this is some sort of reverse Sleeping Beauty crap I will fucking walk back to the Bunker!"

No answer. Not ever the familiar shuffle of movement. I put an ear to the door, listening for any signs of movement whatsoever.

There was nothing.

"Donatello? Jack?" I rifled through my pockets and pulled out… two paperclips and a swiss army knife.

I could pick a lock with those. I hadn't had to manually pick one in a while, but… I was certain I remembered how.

I pretended that I wasn't bothered by the fact it took three full minutes for me to successfully pick the lock, and enter their room.

Nobody was there. The room looked like someone had slept in it lately, and the clothes Sam had loaned Jack were folded neatly on the end of a bed, but anything else…

There wasn't anybody in there at all.

"Jack?!" I heard Dean's voice from down the hall, and footsteps coming my way. I ducked my head out to see Dean first, with Sam behind him and Donatello bringing up the rear, holding his own bag of breakfast food. I shook my head once I saw them, eyes widened.

"He's not here." I said.