She'd been running on fumes and knew she was pushing her mental limits when she began taking the memories from both men, the strain from Sam's block breaking also taking a toll on her as well. There was only so much more she could take, as such it was no shock to her when she woke up on a feather soft mattress fully clothed, assuming she'd taken pictures for an especially rowdy party and forgone eating in favor of sleep (something she'd done in the past). Slowly opening her eyes she was met with a sterile white room. Everything even the flowers sitting in a vase beside her were white. Sitting up slowly, the pounding in her head attempting to distract her from trying to figure out where she'd seen this place before. A heavy sense of deja vu surrounding the room. Memories tickling at her consciousness, but just far enough away she couldn't grasp it.
Trying to find out how she got there she began thinking over the day's events. The photo's she'd taken for an interview, then a shoot for an up and coming model, getting food at the cafe, the walk back from the venue, stopping at the park. Then it hit her. "SAM AND DEAN!" She shouted, her head immediately protesting the noise. I never finished wiping their minds. She closed her eyes in annoyance. I hope I didn't mess anything up. She fell back against the bed, pressing the palm of her hands into her eyes as she begged whoever she could that she'd cleanly wiped their minds.
The air in front of her shifted, suddenly a man was standing in front of her. His black hair a mess as if he'd just gotten done working all day and then sat in traffic for hours, a long tan trench coat that hung open over a black suit, complete with a blue tie that made his eyes sparkle brilliantly. He was average height with tired looking line beside those blue eyes and a frown stretched over his face, he had dark bags under his eyes, and looked like he hadn't slept in decades. He opened his mouth to speak, the voice coming out surprisingly deep and raspy. "I am Cast-"
"I know you. I've seen you in my visions before." She cut him off. "You're the angel, D-Dean's angel." Taking him in, she could feel the power radiating off him. "What are you here for? Where am I?" She asked growing skeptical.
"You're needed." He stated, as if it were the most simple answer. She could only stare back, the confusion and fear clearly written on her face. "We need to know what you've seen." He said, moving around foot of the bed to be near her head. "Tell me what you've seen in regards to the Winchesters." He demanded. His eyes hardening and lips pulling into a straight line. She had seen someone else make this face before, but she couldn't figure out who. Their face and voice nagging at the back of her memories, buried as someone had tried to hide them. This only scared her more. Her resolve strengthening.
If he's going to use me, then I'll just return the favor. She thought, shaking her head. Giving him a blank stare, she stated. "It doesn't work like that." Holding out her hand, she raised one eyebrow at him, waiting for him to place his much larger and very pale one in her own. "My visions don't allow me to tell others, I can however show you." She gave a gentle tug to his hand. He seemed to understand as he moved closer. " You may want to sit down this may hurt a little. The last person I did this with ended up unconscious for three days." She warned. Closing her eyes to concentrate on opening the gate she kept her visions in, allowing him access to only the ones regarding mundane things, Sam and Jessica picking a house, what diner Dean and John would stop at, nights spent studying for a big test, days spent hustling pool in a seedy bar on the outskirts of some small town.
"I am not a person, I have a better healing rate. I'll be just fine." He said, slowly removing her hand from his, she placed it on his forehead. Concentrating solely on the last two things she'd seen. "We need everything you've seen about the Winchesters." Were the last words he'd said before she opened those images to him. Only allowing him bits and pieces, flashing things at him at random. Never truly showing the full story.
Showing him those first she began sifting through his mind in turn. Pulling information from him, there was a great deal about humans and a mission. He'd lived for millennia and was forced to watch as wars raged and innocent people died, forced to fight alongside weak and worthless beings all decreed from a man he'd never even met. Fighting his own family as he threw them out of Heaven, not caring in the slightest that some didn't make it. Listening to a woman's cold and monotonous voice as he was given his next assignment, never being allowed to make his own decisions, following orders to the 'T'. His face changing with each new era, taking the body of a person from the same line of people, giving them a purpose as he used and used them, until their bodies could no longer handle the strain. In the very back corner, locked behind a very heavy door, that she doubted even this man knew about there was a flash of blonde hair, and a man's deep voice. Long nights under the stars and walks along country roads. The more she saw the harder it was to believe, these people were younger versions of the picture she'd seen a million times. Both were held at such high regard, both set as an example for what was to come. Their sacrifices leading to some great thing, but it stopped there. The trail running cold and all she could think was What is it about John and Mary that has them so worried? Why are they so set on the Winchesters? Why did Mary have to die that night?
However, before she could dig any deeper, the images faded as he pulled back, taking with him memories of his own. Wiping everything from her mind about this strange white room, the tired and overworked man, the horrible things he'd seen and done, and most importantly, the Winchesters.