A/N: Hi! If you're a previous reader coming from my Reddie fic, I want to warn you that this is written very differently than that was. This is intended only for mature audiences, as there are graphic depictions of violence, heavy talk of mental health and triggers that come along with that, internalized homophobia, and very NSFW sex scenes. That being said, this story is somewhat canon-compliant but I do bend canon in some areas. This is a first person story told mainly from the POV of Dean, and while I know many supernatural fic readers aren't huge fans of first person, I worked really hard on this and would appreciate it if you gave it a shot anyway ;) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

I was absolutely hauling ass. Away from what, I wasn't sure, but the sound of it barreling through the trees behind me told me that it was one big son of a bitch. Small branches and thorns bit into my cheeks and exposed arms as I pushed my way through the thicket, but I didn't feel any pain. I was too focused on not turning into lunch. Not ending up monster chow had become the daily agenda. I tightened my grip on the handle of the spear in my hand, prepared to turn and fight whatever was chasing me once I passed the upcoming bend in the trees. I'd memorized this clearing; it would give me the advantage I needed. Leading whatever boogeyman was chasing me there was the easy part. My time here was permanently etched into my brain. After several weeks of going in circles, things became easier to decipher. I'd noticed the differences in the shape of the fallen logs, the rock formations, the bark on the trees. I was a regular Boy Scout. I knew I couldn't run forever, and I didn't intend to; I just needed some space. Some room to move if things went sideways. The dry leaves crunched under my boots and my eyes narrowed as I started to round the turn, and the creature behind me snarled loudly. It was definitely getting closer, and evidently was not fond of fast food.

I cleared the last tree and dug my boots into the mud, preparing to spin and face whatever asshole had it out for me, when someone grabbed my arm from the tree line. I lunged at them on reflex, and Castiel easily knocked the spear out of my hands as he stepped into my path. He grabbed both of my shoulders to look me dead in the eyes. "Wake up."

"What?" I demanded, picking the spear back up quickly and peering past him into the darkness. I grabbed his coat and tried to move him to my side, but he wouldn't budge. My relief with seeing him alive and my adrenaline from the impending fight had mixed into anger. "Where the hell have you been, man, I thought you were dead!" I noted that he was clean shaven and his clothing, which had been tattered and beyond filthy the last time I'd seen him, was pristine. What the hell?

He stood in my path urgently, blocking me from whatever stirred in the trees just beyond my line of sight. "Wake up, Dean," he repeated sternly. His lips were pressed into a hard line. "We aren't in Purgatory anymore. I need you to open your eyes."

"What the hell are you—" I started impatiently, tugging on his arm again, and he put two fingers to my forehead.

I woke with a start in my own bed. I was drenched in sweat and Sam was standing over me, looking worried. My light was on. "Dude. Are you okay? I knocked on your door like ten times, I've been shaking you."

I groaned, blinking against the light and rubbing my eyes before slowly sitting up. My head was pounding. "Yeah. I'm fine. Nightmare, I guess."

Sam looked doubtful. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Nope," I said without hesitation, wiping my damp forehead with the back of my hand. I could feel my shirt sticking to my back. "What time is it?"

"It's 11. I, uh..I found us a case, I think. I wanted you to come take a look at it." He jabbed his thumb back in the general direction of the library.

I nodded, blinking the last of the sleep out of my eyes. "Yeah, give me a minute. I'll be out." I yawned massively, waving him off.

"Okay, yeah. Sure," Sam replied, nodding. He gave me one last skeptical look before walking out, pulling the door closed behind him.

I swung my legs over the edge of my bed, yawning again and running a hand through my hair. Truthfully, I'd been having a lot of nightmares lately. Most of them about Purgatory, some about Hell. But they all ended the same—with Castiel appearing out of nowhere and telling me to wake my ass up. They were so realistic that I never knew they were dreams until I was conscious, and Cas hadn't exactly been around for me to ask about them. He was pouting. Again.

I knew he was okay, because he answered Sam's calls and texts, and he regularly checked in with us that way as well. But he wouldn't speak to me. We'd had an argument about three weeks before, and he'd said it was best if he distanced himself from the bunker if I was going to be "irresponsible and reckless". That's what he had called it when, nearly drunk, I'd brought Marie home from a local bar. He was right that I wasn't thinking, and that it wasn't safe to show people where we lived. But for him to throw such a fit about it was blowing things out of proportion. Marie was just a small town barfly, and even in my drunken state I'd been smart enough to mumble "Christo" before I had her in the Impala. (Don't drink and drive, kids.)

"You can't just bring random humans here, Dean!" he'd dragged me aside and said angrily, after Marie had run (almost literally) into him the next morning. Castiel had reacted by shoving her against the wall and pulling his angel blade on her, which led to a really awkward conversation with my one night stand that my friend Cas was a paranoid schizophrenic who had mistaken her as a threat.

Since that day, he'd been MIA. God knows where he'd gone; Heaven, maybe? Doubtful, if it meant having to spend any time around his brothers and sisters. Not to mention I didn't think they had cell reception. Regardless, with Cas not around to see it, I felt a little less guilty about having Marie back here a few more times. I kept telling myself I'd cut it off, but for some reason I just couldn't get enough of her. Something about her was downright addicting.

I changed into a semi clean pair of jeans and a fresh shirt and splashed some water from the sink onto my face, making my way towards the kitchen for a cup of coffee and some Tylenol before finding Sam for whatever wild goose chase he no doubt had us going on. Cases had been slim pickings lately, and we'd both been seeing them where there were none as a result.

When I finally joined him at the table in the library, he was already on the phone with someone. "Thanks Sheriff," he said. "Absolutely. Of course. Someone will be out tomorrow to have a look. Thank you."

I raised my eyebrows as I sat down across from him, holding my warm mug in both hands and taking a slow sip. The familiar bitter taste of the coffee coated my throat and perked me up somewhat. Maybe it was just a caffeine headache, "What's that about?" I asked, gesturing to his phone.

"Change of plans. I sent Garth the case I was looking at," he said. "Jody just called, said the sheriff in the next town over from Sioux Falls, Parker, just found four bodies, drained of blood. He was kinda freaking out, she gave me his number. I told him FBI would come have a look."

"Vampires," I sighed. More vampires. It seemed like that was all we dealt with anymore. I missed the excitement of variety. "What was the case you sent Garth?"

"Sounds like a rougarou," he said absently, shutting his laptop and stowing it in the black carrying case.

I threw my hands up in annoyance. "Dude. You realize how long it's been since we had that rougarou? Can't Garth take the nest?"

Sam frowned. "That's way too many vamps. In case you hadn't noticed, Dean, there's one Garth and three of us."

"Three? Is Cas coming?" I asked, meeting his eyes. I didn't like the way I sounded excited at that prospect. If the dude wanted to ignore me, let him. This wouldn't be the first time he'd vanished on me. But it never hurt any less when he did it, as much as I'd deny ever thinking that.

"No," Sam said. He hesitated for a second. "He did call this morning, though. Sends us his best."

Sends us his best. Fuck my four unanswered phone calls, then. "So Bobby?" I asked doubtfully. It wasn't that I doubted his abilities, not ever. But since he'd recovered from his headshot at Dick Roman's place, he'd been kind of reclusive and was semi-retired. Not that I blamed him. He almost hadn't come out of that one. He didn't let the wheelchair stop him, but the chronic migraines were no joke. I realized with a twinge of sadness that Bobby wasn't getting any younger.

"No. Jack," Sam replied quietly, as if he was afraid Jack would hear from wherever he was lurking today. "I want him back on board with us."

"No," I said flatly, setting my coffee mug down.

"Look, I know you sidelined him after he hurt that guy, but it was an accident. Now that he's getting a handle on his powers, I think he'd really be helpful. We don't know how many we're dealing with."

"No," I repeated. "Look, the kid's a liability on hunts. I like him, Sammy, I do. But he's still learning how to control his mojo. He needs more time." After he hurt that guy. He had murdered him, plain and simple. I knew it had been an accident, and that he wasn't aiming for him, but sending someone innocent's skull into a metal pole with your Jedi archangel telekinesis crap wasn't something you could just apologize for and move on from.

Sam sighed, standing from the table. "Fine. I'll tell him we're heading out. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear we need him to 'guard the bunker' again. He knows he's really just grounded."

"He'll be fine," I said, standing as well. "I paid the Netflix bill, he's got plenty to keep him company. I'm gonna pack a lunch. I'll be ready in 20."

The trip to South Dakota from Lebanon was only about five and a half hours, but the long stretches of empty highway felt like double that. I was running on fumes after having nightmares several nights in a row, and the interstate became hypnotizing around 3 hours in. I only realized I was veering out of my lane when the rumble strips hit the tires and I jerked the wheel back to the right a little too hard.

Sam woke with a yelp after his head bounced off the window, staring at me. "Do you want me to drive?" he groaned, rubbing his neck.

"No, I'm fine," I scowled, cracking a window to let some cool air in. I turned the radio up and took a deep breath, and glanced over at him as he continued to watch me.

He narrowed his eyes, turning the radio back down. "Pull off at the next exit."

I was too tired to fight him, and once I found an exit advertising gas stations I did turn off. Sam and I both hopped out to pee, and I realized it was one of those sleazy bathrooms where you had to ask for a key and go around to the back.

"Go ahead and fill up, I'll go in and get it," I sighed.

Sam nodded, and I heard the bell above my head as I pushed the door of the dingy little gas station open. A layer of dust coated everything, and the floor was uncomfortably sticky. An older guy with a beer gut sat behind what looked like a thick pane of bullet proof glass, and he was picking his teeth in the reflection of his pocket knife.

"Hey, I, uh…need the key to the bathroom," I said, pointing lamely outside.

The guy—his name tag read 'Irv'—glanced out at the Impala and Sam, then back at me. "Need some help holdin' it?" He grinned, raising his eyebrows, and held a key attached to a wooden baton through the hole in the glass.

"What?" I demanded, mouth dropping open indignantly.

"Do you need some help holdin' it?" he repeated, as if my hearing had been the problem. "Never had a complaint. Or is Ole' Boy out there gonna hold it for ya?"

"I—no, he's my—what the hell, man? I'm not gay," I said angrily. It wouldn't have been so bad if this was the first time it had happened, but strangers had been assuming Sam and I were a gay couple for the better half of fifteen years, and it made my skin crawl.

"That's what they say," he chuckled. A raspy, rattled sound. "Hasn't stopped anybody before." He grinned wider, showing yellow teeth with several gaps where the rest should be. "Ain't nobody with a pretty mouth like that truly straight." He glanced at my hand. "And no wedding ring?"

My fingers flew to my lips automatically, horrified. I didn't even know how to reply to that, so I snatched the baton from him and stormed back out, narrowly avoiding running into a display by the door.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked, seeing my expression as I stalked past the car towards the restroom.

"Oh, just great," I said sarcastically."But you're giving the key back to Irv the Perv in there."

I was very careful not to touch anything while in the bathroom and even flushed with my boot, but I still couldn't shake the creeps as I passed the key off to Sam when I came out. I settled into the passenger seat to wait for him, pulling down the passenger side mirror and staring at my mouth. How the fuck did a mouth look gay? Did my mouth look gay?

I watched Sam exit the bathroom and enter the gas station to return the key, and when he came out he was laughing to himself. He sat down in the driver seat and pushed the lever back to give himself more leg room. "Irv the Perv sounds about right," he said, shaking his head.

I glared at him. "Not shit funny about it," I spat.

Sam laughed again, pulling away from the pump and back out on to the exit. "On my way out he told me he was sad to see me go but it would be…" His lips twitched. "Downright orgasmic to watch me leave."

I reached for the door handle. "I'm gonna go fight him," I said flatly.

Sam rolled his eyes. "And catch a hate crime charge? Go to sleep, grouch. You need it. When you wake up, we should be at our motel."

"He hate crimed me!" I snapped, frowning. I crossed my arms and settled down into my seat in resignation, and put my head against the cool window to close my eyes. I didn't know what vibes I gave off that made all the creepy old men in the world think I wanted to fuck them, but it was frustrating and unsettling, and only got worse with age. I liked women. Just women…

I was running again. I was chasing something, and it was clearly not happy about that fact. I caught a glimpse of yellow eyes and white sharp teeth as the moonlight hit it. Werewolf. The knife in my hand was not made of silver, but rather the sharpened jaw of another monster I had killed, so I knew I had no other choice but to take its head off. The werewolf stopped in its tracks and faced me, snarling, and I smiled grimly as I stepped forward to it.

"Come and get it, ugly," I said.

"Dean, wake up," a voice from behind me insisted, and I turned to swing. Castiel immediately knocked the knife from my grip like he'd done this a thousand times.

"Cas, you're alive?!" I said in shock. I wanted to hug him, but the werewolf in front of me kept my attention as it circled closer. "I thought you were dead!"

"Wake up," Cas repeated, grabbing me and pinning my wrists as I tried to shake him off. He placed a hand on my forehead.

"Dean!" Sam said loudly, and I opened my eyes. We'd pulled over, and I realized he was holding both of my hands down with his own. I was soaked.

"What?" I demanded groggily, yanking my hands away from him self consciously.

"You tried to open the damn door, man! I don't know if you're sleep walking now or what, but you just about threw yourself out of the car!"

"Really? Huh," I said, frowning. Sam was still staring at me, and I raised both hands. "I'm fine now. I'm awake."

"You scared me," he said softly, running a hand through his hair. "You unbuckled and before I realized you were still asleep you had a hand on the door handle."

"I'm fine, dude, really," I said, rubbing my eyes. "Just sleep deprived." That was an understatement. He had no idea how little restful sleep I'd actually been getting lately; it was a wonder I was able to keep my eyes open at all. "How much longer until Parker?"

"About twenty minutes," Sam sighed, finally settling back in his seat and taking the car out of park. He looked at me pointedly. "Buckle."

I looked down and realized I really was unbuckled, and I slowly clicked the seatbelt in confusion. What I had been doing in my dream? Getting ready to lunge towards a werewolf..and then Cas was there, again.

I pulled out my phone as Sam pulled back off the side of the road and opened Cas's contact. 'Hey, can you call me? Important question,' I texted. It was the latest in a string of unanswered texts from him, but maybe this one would pique his interest.

We finally made it to the small town of Parker and found a motel to stay in for the night. We hung our Fed suits on the room's provided hangers so they wouldn't be wrinkled the next day, and Sam sat down on the bed next to mine just long enough to search up fast food restaurants in the area.

"Hey, there's a Biggerson's about two miles down the road. Want me to pick us something up?"

"Yeah, I'm starved," I said. I realized as I said it how true it was. I hadn't eaten in hours.

Sam stood and grabbed the keys and his wallet off the desk by the door, and the second he closed it behind him I pulled my phone back out of my pocket.

Cas hadn't replied. I tried to call him, and after two rings I got his voicemail. "This is my voicemail. Make your voice…a mail."

If I hadn't been so irritated at his ignoring me, I would've smiled at that. "Cas. Call me," I said, sighing and hitting the end button.

I laid back on my pillow, prepared to try another approach. "Cas, if you're listening…it's me. I need you to talk to me, man. I've got questions about some dreams I've been having and I…well, I miss you, damn it. I don't know. Quit staying away. Please come home."

My phone buzzed, and I sat up quickly to check it, only to realize it was Marie from the bar.

'Hey, I stopped by but only Jack was there. He said you went on a road trip with Sam? Miss you :('

I blinked in surprise. Sure we'd talked a few times since that first night and hooked up some more, but it wasn't like she was my girlfriend or anything. I didn't do girlfriends. Not since Lisa.

'You stopped by?' I texted back.

I saw the three bubbles as she typed, and then a reply. 'Well yeah, silly. I missed you. When will you be back?'

I didn't know how to reply to that. Marie was nice, sure, and gorgeous, but nothing longterm was coming out of it. In fact, she needed to be on her way pretty shortly to avoid any danger. She couldn't just be showing up at the bunker. If anyone connected her to us, it would spell big trouble for her.

'Couple days, maybe. I'll text you when I'm back in town, okay?'

'Deal :),' she replied.

I put my phone on my nightstand with a sigh. She could text me, but my best friend of ten years couldn't?

I tried praying to Cas for a few more minutes, even giving him the name of our motel and city in case he wanted to pop in, but no such luck. What was his deal? It was pissing me off. "Fuck you, man," I finally muttered, opening my eyes and sitting up.

As I did, Sam came through the door with our food, and I had a nice and greasy distraction from my irritation.

The morning came too fast. I didn't have any nightmares that I could remember, which was a pleasant change of pace, and by 9 a.m. Sammy and I were dressed in our monkey suits and talking to the local police (Agents Osbourne and Butler at your service). Once we got to see the bodies, it was clear that we were definitely dealing with vampire attacks.

I pulled my phone out of the inside pocket of my suit jacket once the coroner had left us alone in the morgue. I opened Castiel's text thread and frowned when my message from the night before still said 'delivered'. Cas hadn't been taught how to turn off read receipts, which meant he genuinely hadn't even cared enough to open it.

The sliding platform the first victim's body was on slid back into the cooler with a loud jarring noise, and I looked up from my phone with a start. Sam was staring at me in exasperation.

"Really?" he asked, nodding to my phone. "I know vamp cases aren't exciting anymore, but you could at least pretend to care about the loss of human life."

"I do care," I said defensively, pocketing my phone in embarrassment. I came to help him slide the second victim back into the shelving unit.

"Texting Marie?" he guessed as he moved on to the third body. I winced at this one. She'd been a minor, probably only 15.

"No, Cas," I said, glowering at him. I passed him and walked to the forth platform and pushed it back into the cooler firmly before removing my latex gloves with a snap.

"He's still ignoring you?" Sam asked, removing his own gloves and heading to the sink to wash his hands.

"Yeah."

"Think he's jealous?" he teased as he moved to the side so I could wash mine.

I stopped for a second, swallowing hard. I knew Castiel wasn't jealous. He was pissed I was putting everyone at risk. The way his eyes had flashed at me in anger the last time I saw him still put a knot in my stomach. I tried not to care, I really did, but it bugged me more than I let on that he was upset with me. I missed having him around. Hearing his voice. Sneaking looks at him, a small voice in my head added, and I scowled. I put a lid on that thought, shoving it far down just as I had every similarly themed thought since the incident when I was twelve. I was straight, and Cas was family. Nobody was sneaking looks at shit.

"Dean?" Sam asked pointedly, looking at me like I was crazy. I'd been standing there with the water running in silence for probably far too long.

I cleared my throat loudly and pumped soap into my hand, shooting him a glare. "No, he's not jealous. Quit being gross."

Sam rolled his eyes. "How is that gross?"

"Insinuating he's into me is gross."

"It's not," Sam said, raising one eyebrow. "Dean, you didn't call Charlie gross. Or Claire. And anyway, it was a joke."

"It's different when it's chicks," I grumbled. "Just drop it dude. It's Cas."

Sam raised both hands in surrender. "Sorry. No harm intended. Are you ready to go?"

I grunted a nod, shoving my hands deep in my pockets as we exited the morgue. Sam thanked the coroners for us on our way out and gave them a card, and I stalked ahead to the car. Irv the Perv's comment from the day before resurfaced in my mind and I quickly glanced at my lips in the rearview mirror like they gave away some dirty secret.

Fuck that. There was no dirty secret.

The ride back to the motel was mostly spent in silence as I stared out the window, purposefully shutting down the invitation of conversation. I only spoke when we pulled into the gravel parking lot of our temporary home. "Has Jody called yet?" I asked. She and Claire had decided to join us; they were going to scope some places out and see if there was any evidence of a nest in any of the abandoned buildings around the area where the four bodies had been found. If not, we'd have to do it the old-fashioned way and hang out there as bait, an idea which I was not super fond of.

"Not yet," Sam said, checking his phone reflexively. "She's on duty today, so it may have been hard for her to slip out of county. I'll give her a few more hours then I'll call."

I nodded and prepared to get out of the car, and Sam put a hand on my wrist. "Hey. I'm sorry if I like…hit a nerve back there or something. Really."

I frowned. "Nah. It's fine."

"Promise?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Sam."

"You know you can like…tell me anything, right? Not to be all 'chick flick moment', but that's what I'm here for."

"What are you saying?" I asked sharply, panic rising in my chest as I worked to maintain a neutral expression. The thought that Sam may think I liked men had me nauseous.

"I don't know, you've just been…off. If there's ever anything on your mind, ya know. We can talk."

"Noted," I said shortly, standing and getting out of the car. I heard Sam sigh before he followed me inside.

At about three, Jody phoned to tell us that she and Claire had a pretty good idea of where the vamp nest was hiding out. She'd sent over directions to an old shipping yard, and at nightfall the four of us planned to meet there and take care of it. It was going to be a milk run.

I spent the afternoon napping—I couldn't believe how tired I was—and Sam sat on his bed sharpening our machetes and making sure they were all in "working order", whatever the hell that meant. He FaceTimed Eileen to let her know what our plan was and promised that yes, we'd be careful. The smile in his eyes when he looked at her usually made me inclined to poke fun at them, but today I wasn't feeling it. I rolled over away from him at one point and closed my eyes, praying in my head that Cas would come visit us or at least talk to me so I could apologize. I must've fallen asleep praying, and when I woke up it was still just the two of us in the room.

The sun was dipping low into the trees by this point, and Sam called Jody to tell her we were on our way to the shipping yard before plugging his phone back in on the charger and nodding that he was ready.

The drive was short, but trying to be stealthy made it much longer. I tapped my fingers impatiently on the wheel as we crept along back roads with our headlights off. I was ready to go in and get this over with. Maybe grab a beer with Jody after and catch up.

We pulled up beside her cruiser where she and Claire stood, already armed and ready to go. Claire was bouncing on her toes, excited that Jody had finally let her come along on a case again. I mean, the kid had more than proven herself, she deserved it.

I grinned at them and climbed out, hugging both of them quickly.

"Good to see you, Dean," Jody said softly, squeezing me tight. She stretched up on her toes to hug Sam next. "You boys being good?"

"Always," Sam smiled, and Jody laughed.

"Alright, now I know you're lying."

"Nah, Jody, we're angels," I winked, making her roll her eyes.

"That doesn't help your case."

Claire cleared her throat, clearly ready to cut the pleasantries and get moving. "They should be right up the stairs once we go in, first door on the left," she whispered, sparing a quick glance up at the building. "When we scoped the place out earlier, there were lots of people in sleeping bags. And the windows were covered by big black blankets. We didn't get too close, since it was just us."

"And you're sure we're not attacking a camp of homeless people," I said doubtfully.

"Homeless people don't have chains hanging from the ceiling and dried blood on the floor," Claire snapped back. "Nobody was on the chains, though. Which means they've been getting fast food, explaining the drained bodies."

I nodded, unsheathing my machete and taking the first steps towards the building. Claire was smart, she wouldn't say she was sure if she wasn't. "Well alright then. Let's go gank some bloodsuckers."

The four of us crept through the main entrance to the old factory, flinching as the door creaked impossibly loud in the silence. We paused for a minute to make sure no one had heard us before continuing up the stairs. I glanced at the others outside of the door Claire had indicated before giving a silent countdown from three with my fingers, and on one Sam kicked the door in.

Immediately, five vampires had jumped up from where they'd been seated on the floor, hissing ferally. "Save it, Twilight," I said, rolling my eyes at the one nearest me and swinging my machete. No point wasting time with small talk. His head hit the floor with a sickening thud and his body buckled, and then everything else was too fast to really recall.

I saw my friends wrestling the vampires. I saw each one hit the floor in record time. But I hadn't realized that only four bodies were on the ground when Claire's machete was ripped from her hand and spun at me by one pissed off female vamp. All I registered was a slicing hot wet heat across my stomach. The sound was…mushy, like dropping a rotting cantaloupe. It wasn't right. With an angry cry, Sam beheaded the vampire that watched me smugly as I swayed on my feet, my ears ringing. I noticed my vision was darkening at the edges and I reached out wordlessly, confused as to what was going on. Claire and Jody screamed. And then I hit my knees.