Dean closed his eyes and pulled in a breath, trying (and mostly failing) to muster some confidence from his brief talk with Cas.

Sam was sobbing on his shoulder and it was tearing Dean apart.

Dean tried to stay as calm as he possibly could. He rubbed Sam's back and kept a firm hold on him. He kept his voice soft and even. "Sammy, I've got you. Breathe, buddy… come on… I'm here."

Sam took in a shaky breath and then another and swallowed back some tears.

"That's my boy… That's it…" Dean praised.

Sam finally loosened his grasp of Dean's neck and leaned back, head downcast.

Dean lifted his chin. "Look at me. Hey,"

The minute Sam met his gaze more tears spilled over. He hung his head again and wiped his eyes. "...s-sorry."

"Sam, don't. There's no apologizing here. You're going through hell in the middle of heaven right now and we're gonna take this one step at a time till we get you through it."

Sam shook his head miserably, wiping his eyes in frustration. "We're in this incredible place with a kitchen full of food and you can't even enjoy it because I can't keep it together long enough for you to even see the rest of the house!"

"Dude, come on-"

"No, seriously, Dean! This is ridiculous, I feel like such a…"

"Princess?" Dean offered.

Sam scowled.

"Snowflake? Teen-aged girl?"

Sam punched him in the arm, frowning. "Yes. All of that."

Dean gave him a lopsided grin and tousled his hair. "Hey, it's okay. The house ain'tt going anywhere and as far as I know, we have all of eternity to check this place out. And besides, what makes you think I even feel like going to check out the rest of the house right now? If you want the truth, I'm ready for another nap. But right now... " he took Sam by the chin again. "I want to talk about this tie to Lucifer that you think you have."

Sam pulled away from him, a shudder passing over his body.

"Sam, he's not here. There's no connection to him. All this stuff you're feeling is just your soul doing some house cleaning."

Sam looked doubtful, but then nodded hesitantly.

"I know this sucks. Cas said this kind of healing was going to be tough, but we've got this, okay?"

"I know," Sam nodded and swallowed back more tears. "And...I know he's not here… at least, I think…"

"He's not here, Sam."

"I can still... can still... feel him…" Sam looked physically ill as he said these words.

Dean felt a protective rage boiling under his skin. The unspeakable things that had happened to his little brother in that place… And the fact that he was reliving them now… here, of all places.

"And... and sometimes it just feels like… like you're far away," Sam said, his voice shaking.

"Okay. Okay, Sammy," Dean soothed, pulling him forward and wrapping Sam up in his arms again. "I know it does, but I'm here, buddy. I'm right here." He knew what Sam meant, because he'd felt this too. Sometimes it felt like Sam was far away when he was just in the next room or even just out of sight. And it was a sickening feeling. Dean stood up then, keeping Sam in his arms and balancing him carefully on his hip as he lead them away from the windows and back to the couch. He sat down and pulled a blanket up over Sam's shoulders. Sam leaned forward and curled his body up under Dean's arm. "Do you want to go back to your bed?" Dean asked, wondering if the huge, wide open room and the big windows might be a bit unnerving for Sam.

"What makes you think that's my bed?" Sam asked. "Maybe there's a much nicer bedroom somewhere else in the house."

"That would be my room," Dean said without missing a beat, elated that Sam was settling down enough to be a little smart ass. "Come to think of it, maybe I hsould go check this place out and stake my claim. Seriously… you okay in here? We can go somewhere with fewer windows."

Sam was shaking his head and taking deep breaths, pulling himself together. "No. No, I'm okay." He pressed himself deeper into Dean's side and shivered again.

And as unhappy as Dean was that Sam was in distress, every time he did something like that- curling up under his arm, leaning into him, running to him when he needed comfort- Dean could feel something inside click into place, like he was a broken puzzle being put back together. It made him feel like Sam was… less far away. Dean ran a hand over Sam's head and held him tightly, wishing that he could make Sam feel that way too. "Are you sure? Whatever makes you feel better-"

Sam shook his head again. His voice was small, but becoming more steady. He pressed his hands over his eyes, rubbing away either tears or a headache, Dean wasn't sure which. "No, really. I'm okay, I just… I have to sort out what's real and what I'm just remembering."

Have to sort out what's real… Dean's stomach twisted. Another reason this was a bigger nightmare for Sam.

"And sometimes," Sam continued. "Sometimes even what's real seems just… so freaking crazy, you know?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "It's kind of a lot to take in. I think that's why Cas- or Jack- or whoever put this all together is trying to make this all seem so familiar." He glanced around the room looking at all the comforts and conveniences.

Sam huffed out a tearful laugh. "Yeah. A huge, amazing house with a big screen TV and food set out by an invisible butler. It's just like home."

Dean couldn't help but smile. "Hey, the bunker was huge. And amazing."

Sam couldn't really argue with that.

"And," Dean continued, "we had a big screen TV. For a little while."

"We had it for a day. And it was haunted."

"We had Mrs. Butters for a while. She was kind of like a butler." Even when it came out of his mouth he knew it was a horrible example.

"And…." Sam prompted, sitting back and looking expectantly at Dean.

"And, she… tried to kill me," Dean groaned with a bit of an eye roll. "But she did fix the TV," he said, pointing a finger insistently.

Sam wasn't having it. He just stared at Dean with the subtlest of bitchfaces, until Dean finally gave in, shoulders sagging a bit. "Well, you said it best: 'Cas is weird'. So this," Dean looked around again, trying to hide a smile that came from realizing that a bitchface on 9 year old Sam was freaking adorable, "is probably all going to seem a little weird till we get used to it. Look, he might be an 'Angel of the Lord'," he mimicked Cas's voice hoping Cas wasn't listening in. "But he doesn't know any better. I think he's just trying to make us happy. And you know what? I think we will be once we get through all this."

Sam nodded, tears welling up in his eyes again.

Dean leaned in and pressed his forehead to Sam's. It was a gesture that he knew would speak volumes without a word. "It's gonna be okay, buddy. All right?"

Sam looked up and forced a half smile as he pressed his forehead right back against Dean's.

"Listen, I've got an idea." Dean said sitting back against the sofa.

Sam's eyes widened with a tiny spark of hope. And that spark lit a flame in Dean. This was what they needed. He wasn't sure if this idea was worth anything other than a temporary sense of false hope. It wasn't even a fully formed idea, but he was going to go for it anyway. It was all he had.

"I don't know about you, but I'm not planning to face problems up here any different than I did down there," he said pointing to the floor, not entirely sure if Heaven was above Earth or where exactly they were, but it didn't matter. Dean continued, his voice brimming with defiance. "What did we do back home when there were monsters and demons causing trouble? Did we wait for them to come to us?"

Sam shook his head emphatically. "We took the fight to them."

"That's right. We took the fight to them. Let's stop waiting for this connection or whatever to heal itself. Let's work on it now and see if we can make something happen."

Sam scrunched up his face then. "This might be a little… different. You don't just make wounds heal."

"Not on Earth, or… wherever. But maybe we can here. Or at least hurry it along. Besides, you got a better idea, smart ass?"

Sam rolled his eyes and Dean took that as a win. "What did you have in mind?" Sam asked.

"Well… why don't we start with a little experiment? What are you feeling like right now?"

Sam tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that whole… far away thing. Does it feel like that right now?"

"N-no… it's… it's better now. I mean, it's not as intense. It was more when-"

"When I was in the kitchen?"

Sam nodded."Or when I opened my eyes and didn't see you right away."

Dean bit his lip. "Huh. Okay, let's try something out, all right?" Dean reached for Sam's hands. "Put out your hands and close your eyes."

Sam did as he was told. Dean held on to his hands.

"Okay, now tell me what you're feeling. Does it feel like I'm… far away right now?"

"No."

"Okay, keep your eyes closed, I'm gonna let go," Dean said and released his hold on Sam's hands. "What about now?"

"No… it's still okay."

"I'm going to get up and start backing up and you count to three then tell me if anything changes. Then do it again- let's say, five more times. I'm not going to talk any more, you just keep going till something changes. Keep your eyes closed." Dean got up from the sofa and stood beside it.

Sam nodded and counted to three. "Still… okay," he said, but his voice sounded a little shaky. He didn't like this, Dean could tell. He counted out loud again to three. "It's less okay," he said, his breathing getting a bit more rapid. He counted to three again. "D-Dean?" he asked in a voice just above a whisper.

"Okay, right here, Sam. Open your eyes." Dean reached out and gripped his arm. Then he squatted down in front of him. "I never moved. I was always close enough for you to reach me."

Sam let out his breath and nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Hey, baby steps, right? We're gonna keep practicing till we figure this out. But we're gonna do it a little at a time, all right?" He could tell Sam wasn't really up for this right now. He could also tell Sam was chewing on his own idea just then.

"Can we… can we go for a drive?" Sam asked finally, looking back towards the windows.

Dean raised his eyebrows, caught off guard. "Uhh...Sure we can."

"Unless you're tired," Sam's eyes darted back to Dean, guilt written on his face. "I forgot you said-"

"Hey- I'm good. I think this is a great idea. I just… are you feeling up to going outside?" Dean asked, remembering the terror on Sam's face from earlier.

Sam took a breath. "Yeah. I… I was thinking about what you said, you know, about facing problems here the way we did before? I just think I need to face this head on. As much as I can."

Dean nodded, looking proudly at Sam. "Well, then let's go for a drive and kick this thing in the ass!"

Moments later, they were stepping onto the front porch just as the sun was peeking through the clouds. Baby sat patiently in the driveway, her black paint glistening in the bits of sunlight that poured from the sky.

"Ready?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded and leaned into him. Dean could feel a slight tremor as Sam pressed up against his side and stared nervously at the forest to their right.

"Let's see where the road takes us, huh?" Dean asked, keeping his tone light, but fighting the urge to pick Sam up and carry him to the car. Because Sam was right. Facing his fears head on was probably the best way through this mess. So as much as it pained him, Dean just let him walk, still pressed up against his side.

Once inside the Impala, Sam's breathing evened out and he seemed to relax a bit. They drove around for hours, not knowing where they were, and certainly not where they were going. They passed lakes and streams and wide open fields with mountain views, some of the most gorgeous scenery Dean had ever laid eyes on. And he had a feeling this was just the tip of the iceberg. But right now, he wasn't interested in views. He was interested in Sam getting better. He was interested in both of them getting better. Dean made no turns as they drove so he didn't completely lose his bearings. He was sure he could just ask Cas to get them back home, but he was hoping to find his own way back.

Sam, on the other hand, seemed very interested in the views. He was gazing out the window in awe at the passing landscapes. Every now and then he would point something out to Dean. He was calming down. He was relaxing. After a while, in fact, he seemed like he was falling asleep. No, Dean thought. He is definitely falling asleep, Dean watched as Sam's whole body listed towards him till his head was resting on Dean's arm. Dean smiled fondly at him and kept driving. But a few miles after Sam nodded off, Dean was reaching his limit so he turned around and followed the road back to the house.

He pulled up to the front porch and put the car in park. He got out and went to the passenger side and opened the door carefully so that Sam wouldn't come tumbling out. He squatted down beside the open door and put a hand gently on Sam's shoulder. Sam opened his eyes and looked a little disoriented at first, but not at all afraid, to Dean's immense relief. He gave Dean a groggy little smile.

"Hey, sleepy-head. You ready to go inside?"

And Dean's heart melted as Sam, still dazed with sleep, stretched out both arms and wrapped them around Dean's neck. Dean lifted him out of the car. He could feel the familiar warming in his chest that he had felt so many times in his life before. This kid...

Sam was sleepy and sluggish as he nestled into his brother's shoulder and let out a contented sigh. Dean smiled as he felt that little "clicking into place" feeling again. But then something strange began to happen. This time, the feeling was not fleeting. It lingered, gently expanding in a glowing warmth. It started slowly, but then grew in its intensity until Dean was overcome by a feeling so immensely full of love it took his breath away. It filled his entire being, it radiated from somewhere deep inside of him and swirled all around him on the outside like a perfect summer breeze. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, but at the same time, it was as though it had been there all along. It was familiar and completely foreign. And while it was an emotion of sorts, it was not coming from him, but to him. It was coming from Sam.

The connection. This was what Cas had been talking about.

Dean stopped there on the porch and closed his eyes. His breath caught in his throat as he pressed Sam closer to him. He noticed that Sam no longer felt far away at all. Sam was here and Sam would always be here. Their souls were intertwined. There ain't no me if there ain't no you.

Dean had formulated a vague idea of what this so-called connection was, but he would not in a million years have been able to conjure this up in his imagination. It was everything he felt for Sam handed right back to him in the full intensity of its truth and stripped of any vulnerabilities. Tears welled in his eyes as he let the feeling completely envelop him. It was affection, devotion and adoration. It was comfort and love, pure and safe and beautiful and and yet something he couldn't truly name. It was almost more than he could bear.

"Dean?" Sam pulled back from him then, fully awake and looking somewhat alarmed.

Dean let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, opened his eyes and blinked. And the feeling was gone. Mostly. There was a gentle warmth that remained and just the faintest sense of... concern? Yes. concern. Worry...And again, it was not coming from him, but to him. It was very subtle, not anywhere near the intensity of the first feeling. The connection had weakened. It was just like Cas described, like phones cutting in and out. For a moment, he'd had perfect, overwhelming clarity and now he was back to static. This tiny distant sense of worry was not something he probably would have noticed, but for the fact that he was so tuned into the other feeling that had just left him. He was grasping for it, looking for it, and because of that, he happened to notice this other feeling lingering quietly at the edges of his consciousness. It too, was coming from Sam. He wasn't sure how he knew this, but he did. Maybe I just heard it in his voice? Dean thought. But no, it was more than that. He could feel it inside of himself, but he knew it wasn't his own.

"Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean shook his head slightly, still basking in the glow of not only sensing Sam's love, but actually being able to openly receive it. He realized that he'd startled Sam a bit with his reaction, and that was where the concern was coming from. He smiled then. "Nothing, Sammy," he said, gazing at his brother with a renewed sense of calm. What he had felt would come back. The connection would heal for both of them. He was sure of it. "Nothing's wrong." He closed his eyes again and wrapped Sam in a tight hug,

Sam returned it for a second and then pushed away again, looking at him suspiciously. "Why are you all... loopy?"

Dean laughed, smiling at Sam. And Dean looked so happy right then that Sam couldn't help but smile back. A ray of sunlight was piercing through the dark clouds, shining down on the porch steps and warming their shoulders.

"I'm not loopy, I'm just... happy to be home. C'mon, lets go inside and finish the movie, okay?"

Sam squinted up at the house for a moment, obviously not sure he wanted to call it home yet, but then he looked back at Dean and smiled, his eyelids drooping just a bit. He nodded and leaned forward, melting sleepily into his brother's arms.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Dean whispered, rubbing Sam's back and climbing the steps to the house.