A/N: I know it's been quite a while since I posted, but life has been hectic and I've had no time. I'll try to be more regular about posting, but in the meantime here's a short little update. :)

Dean woke slowly to the feeling of pavement and grime under his cheek, the taste of vomit in his mouth.

He wondered absently where he was, but couldn't really bring himself to give a shit about the answer. He lay unmoving for a few minutes, feeling the sun beat down on his back, before a shadow moved over him.

He rolled his head wearily upward, moaning as he saw Sam crouched above him, wings blocking the sunlight. His brother was staring at him with an exasperated look on his face, somehow sad and angry and amused all at the same time. It was that familiar Dean, you're such an immature fuck-up but I love you look, and Dean's felt his face twist with pain.

"G'way…" Dean mumbled, swiping the back of an arm over his sour-tasting mouth.

Sam rocked back a little on his heels, hands dangling between his knees as he regarded Dean with a thoughtful expression.

Fucking hallucination… Dean thought bitterly. He turned away, determined to ignore the way the imaginary Sam's hair moved in the breeze, or how his chest rose and fell. How his eyes blinked, every lash painfully defined, as he stared unerringly.

Dean groaned and pushed himself to his feet, noted indifferently that he was in an alley. Dizziness rolled through him and he stumbled. Closing his eyes tightly, he threw out an arm to get his balance. When he openedthem again, Sam was standing in front of him.

"Go. Away," he ground out. Senseless rage filled him.

Sam shook his head sadly, his wings slumped.

"Sam is gone, you aren't him! Sam is just a box of fucking ashes now, and you're just a god damn hallucination, you understand? You're not my brother!"

Dean struck at the image, wanting to smash it, but his fist passed straight through Sam's chest. As Dean pulled his hand back, a painful flash of light exploded behind his eyes. He heard his brother's voice echo, as though from far away –

Dean! Don't give up, please…

Then his ass was connecting painfully with the pavement again, his teeth clacking together as he hit. He blinked several times to clear his vision, dazed. His mind felt thick and hung over, wrung senseless by rage and grief.

Sam was walking away from him, most of his back obscured by white feathers. A sudden, wrenching sense of loss filled Dean, and he took several steps towards the hallucination's retreating form before he even realized he was moving.

His brother's image disappeared around the corner of the alley, and Dean stumbled hastily to where the alley opened onto the street. Several people drew back from him as they passed, walking briskly down the sidewalk. A young mother drew her child to the other side of the street, casting anxious, protective looks in his direction.

He ignored them, eyes locked onto Sam where he stood a hundred feet away. His brother was facing him again, and Dean thought absently that he shouldn't have been able to see how green Sam's eyes were from such a distance.

Then his foggy mind caught up with his eyes, and he realized that the people on the sidewalk were walking around his brother, not through him as Dean would have expected. His heart galloped with sudden, blinding hope and fear.

'Sammy," he croaked questioningly, and the image smiled gently at him. Dean bit back a whimper and stumbled down the sidewalk, pushing at alarmed-looking pedestrians as he went. He heard someone cry out and fall behind him, people's voices raised in anger and shock.

Then a heavy hand landed on his shoulder, turning him roughly as the world spun lazily to follow.

"Hey! You just knocked my wife over, asshole! What the he-"

Dean cut him off with a hard right hook to his jaw, his mind narrowed down to one objective – get to Sam.

The man dropped soundlessly, unconscious before he hit the sidewalk, and Dean heard a woman scream nearby. More hands grabbed at him, and he lashed out mindlessly. He caught a glimpse of police blue but didn't stop, kicking and screaming.

Once, Dean would have taken them easily. But he was dulled by alcohol and loss, and soon they had him pinned to the ground as they fastened his wrists behind his back.

"Sam," he screamed, his voice breaking. "I didn't mean it! Don't go!"

He lifted his head from the sidewalk, peering past the circle of gawking citizens to the place his brother had stood.

But Sam was gone.

And, mercifully, a moment later Dean was, too.