Dean had driven about two miles when his phone suddenly rang. He picked it up, expecting the call to be from his brother, but instead it was from the police officer he spoke with the previous day.

"Another body was found this morning," the police officer said. "Looks the same as the last two. Not sure if you're interested, but if you wanna see it before they take it to the morgue, stop by the park."

There was only one park in town, so Dean didn't have much trouble finding it. Once at the crime scene, the police officer explained how the latest victim was a middle-aged woman who had apparently gone out for an early morning jog. She was oozing the same black goo as the other two vics, and this time the stench of burnt flesh was more prominent.

"When will the autopsy reports be done for the other two bodies?" Dean asked.

"Uh, probably tomorrow or the next day. Why? Is there some kind of rush, or...?"

"Yes, actually." Dean cleared his throat and tried to sound extra professional. "Perhaps I forgot to mention this yesterday, but I am actually with a department out of DC. As you can probably imagine, we are extremely busy there and want to try and wrap up this case as soon as possible."

"Um... okay." The police officer scratched the back of his neck. "Why exactly is the FBI interested in this case?"

"I'm afraid that's classified information," Dean replied, his tone firm. "I'll have to contact my superiors if the autopsy reports aren't finished by tonight, though. Preferably before four o'clock."

"Uh... all right," the police officer said, sounding a little confused. "I'll see if I can do anything to speed the process up."

"Great, thanks."

As soon as Dean was back in the Impala he dialed Sam's number.

"Yeah?" Sam's voice sounded through the device's speakers.

"Another body was found in the park this morning. I told the officer in charge of the crime scene to get the autopsy reports done as soon as possible."

"Did it look the same as the others?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Listen, Sam, I think there's something more to this whole thing than we originally thought."

"What do you mean?"

"Well... there is another entity of sorts that we know looks a bit like black goo," Dean answered.

"You mean... the Empty? I don't understand, Dean. It shouldn't care about humans. And how could it even get into our world?"

"I dunno, but I just have this... feeling I can't shake," Dean admitted.

"Hmm..." Sam trailed off and was quiet for a moment. Then, "Do you think... Could this have something to do with Cas?"

"What? No. I mean, how would it?" Dean said, confused.

Cas was stuck in between dimensions and while he might be able to see Earth, he wasn't able to interact with it. Right? And even if he could, how would that cause death by black goo? None of this made any sense to Dean.

"Well, if Cas is stuck between our world and the Empty, maybe some of its powers latched onto him somehow. Maybe that's why he can't fully escape," Sam guessed aloud.

"Okay... but how does that cause black goo to ooze out of people and kill them?"

"I'm not sure, but it does kind of make sense, right? This only started happening a couple nights ago. We showed up here a couple nights ago, Dean. Surely that isn't just a coincidence."

"I mean, it could be," Dean said, though he himself was doubtful of that.

"Right. But if it's not..." Sam trailed off again. "Maybe you should try to contact Cas again. Ask him if he knows anything about the bodies."

"How? He was barely holding on when we spoke this morning!" Dean exclaimed, a hint of hysteria creeping into his voice.

"Just try, okay? If it is Cas that's doing this, he probably has a reason. Maybe he's trying to break out of whatever's got him trapped in between dimensions. Maybe this is how we can help him."

Dean wasn't so sure about that, but their options were pretty limited. For this reason, he decided to abandon the witch idea and switch gears to trying to communicate with the angel. He drove back to the motel and was about to get out of his car when he had an idea.

Instead of going back to the motel room and trying to talk to Cas there, maybe it was a better idea for Dean to talk to him in here. Alone. It would be more quiet and calmer. If Cas was in as much distress now as he was earlier, he could probably use a moment of peace. He might be more helpful in a relaxed environment, as well.

"Cas," Dean said to the empty car. "Castiel? Can you hear me?"

But all was silent. The angel's presence was still gone, much to Dean's disappointment.

"I need to talk to you," Dean continued. "Like, right now. Please."

But the car was still quiet. The only sounds were those outside, of passing cars and birds chirping high up in trees.

"Look, man, Sam and I are really trying to fix this, okay? We're trying to get you back, but we need your help. So... if you can... I need to talk to you."

Silence pervaded for another minute or so, then something happened. The Impala shook violently for several seconds until turning stationary again. Then there was a loud blast of noise—Enochian.

"Can't... keep holding on," Cas's voice cut through the cacophony. "It's too... late."

"No. No, no, no," Dean said, a bit frantically. "The bodies. The bodies in town. Did you do that? Are you trying to break through the wall or whatever it is that's stopping you from coming back?"

"I keep trying... to reach out... but it... won't let me," Cas said.

"What won't let you? The Empty?"

"Yes. Jack tried to free me... but it won't... let go. I keep trying to take hold in your world... but it stops me... every time."

"Try again," Dean responded, trying to sound less scared than he felt. "Right now. Just... just reach out or whatever."

"No," Cas said, his voice surprisingly strong. "Interacting with your world... with humans... it doesn't work. It'll kill you. I'll kill you."

Dean understood the risk, but he also knew that if Cas didn't come back soon he probably wouldn't come back at all. And the eldest Winchester wasn't going to let Cas die all over again before even getting him back first.

"I don't care," Dean said, and he knew he meant those words. "Look, we don't have time for this shit right now, but there are things we need to—things I need to say to you and I can't do that if you're dead all over again. So just try, Cas. Please. For me."

"Dean..." Cas began to protest.

"Just try!" Dean shouted, hitting his hand on the steering wheel in frustration. "Goddammit, Cas. Don't be stubborn now."

"But—"

"If it kills me, it kills me. Like I said, I don't care. But this might be your only chance."

Abruptly, the screech of dead angels receded from the car. Dean looked around but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Cas's presence was suddenly gone, too. Did that mean...?

Before he had a chance to finish that thought, Dean felt... something. A ringing in his ears at first, then suddenly it felt as though the temperature in his car had risen twenty degrees. He felt sweat building up on his forehead and neck and moved to roll the windows down for some fresh air. He halted, however, when an intense burning sensation flitted across and into his skin, seemingly seeping into his very bones.

Dean screamed in pain and was dimly aware of his brother rushing out of their shared room to see what had happened. All Dean could focus on was the burning that seemed to be trying to eat his body alive.

He felt something wet start to run down his nose, then his eyes began to leak. Catching a glimpse of himself in the rear-view mirror, he saw streaks of black running down from his eyes to stain his jacket.

Sam was rushing to open the car door and drag Dean out, but everything was overshadowed by the feeling of being roasted alive. Dean kept screaming in agony—something he'd never, ever done in his whole life; not even while he was in Hell—and started flailing when Sam tried to help him back into the motel room. He didn't have the mental capacity to comprehend what his brother was doing, what with the whole burning alive sensation going on, but Dean's anguish was terminated abruptly with the sound of a rush of air.

Apparently Sam had been half-carrying, half-dragging Dean to his bed, because he let go for some reason, leaving Dean to slouch on the floor.

Except.

Something—someone—was still partially propping him upright. And it wasn't Sam.

Dean was so busy trying to recover from whatever had just happened that it took him a few moments to notice the arms wrapped around him. The gesture was familiar somehow. This wasn't the first time that...

"Cas?!" Sam exclaimed, breaking the silence.

Dean looked up to see his brother wide-eyed, staring just behind Dean's head. Dean himself was still a bit too shell-shocked to say anything. Or move, for that matter.

"I..." a low, gravelly voice rumbled from behind Dean. "I can't believe that actually worked."

Seeming to remember himself, the angel gingerly let go of Dean, who almost fell face-first into the floor as a result. Sam quickly caught him and put an arm around his shoulder to keep him upright.

"Whoa, whoa. What happened? Why is Dean like this? How are you back?" Sam asked, rapid-fire question style.

Dean, now turned around to face Cas, saw something so magnificent he thought he might just pass out. Or maybe that was from almost dying. But either way.

Cas looked all right. A bit tired, what with his rumpled clothing and unkempt hair, but what made Dean's mouth fall slightly open and his face fall slack was the set of rich, dark-colored wings taking up much of the small room behind the angel.

"I... I don't know," Cas answered Sam's question. "I just... Dean told me to reach out and I did. And somehow... I guess it worked."

"That's great!" Sam said excitedly. "Wow! I mean, wow! This is great! Right, Dean? We got Cas back!"

But Dean was still ogling at Cas's wings. Why was he suddenly able to see them?

"Dean?" Sam said, looking over at his brother. "Are you okay?"

Cas turned his gaze to Dean as well, his eyebrows scrunching up in concern. "Dean?" the angel prompted. "Maybe he should sit down," he suggested to Sam.

"You—your wings..." Dean said stupidly. "They're back."

"Uh, yes," Cas said, a little confused. "Jack fixed them, I think. How did you know that, though?"

"I can see them," Dean answered, still just staring at the feathery celestial material. "Why can I see them?"

Cas's eyes widened in surprise at this news. "You can see them? Really? I didn't think it was possible for humans to perceive our wings."

"Yeah... Well, I can," Dean said.

He shook his head to try and clear his thoughts. He knew he must look like a complete idiot, just standing there in awe of Cas's wings.

"Perhaps something happened when you pulled me through," the angel mused. "It may have strengthened our bond."

"Okay, ew," Dean said, the word "bond" snapping him back into reality. "It was weird the first time you mentioned it and it's still weird now."

Cas gave him a look, "I'm just saying. Your soul would've had to be pretty strong to get me out of... that place. I tried to latch onto a few other people in hopes of getting free... but you can see how that turned out."

The angel's expression turned to one of guilt and Dean felt the urge to reach out and hug him. In fact, a surge of emotions were coursing through Dean now. Maybe since his thoughts were finally catching up with him his brain was registering that Cas was really alive.

"What do you mean I 'pulled you out'?" Dean asked.

"Well, as I said, I had to latch onto something to escape the Empty's grip on me. I reached out to you and your soul responded. It saved me, Dean. You saved me."

Cas's eyes welled up with tears then and Dean managed a small smile. "I guess that's why I felt like I was on fire," he joked.

The angel returned the smile and stepped forward to give Dean a hug. Dean reciprocated the gesture and flushed a little when he felt Cas's wings envelope him. The whole thing felt so intimate and special that Dean didn't want to let go, for fear it might never happen again.

"I'm still here guys," Sam chuckled good-naturedly. "Don't I get a hug, too?"

When Sam joined in on the hug, Dean was the only one who saw Cas adjust his wings to cover the both of them. He'd doubted the angel's devotion a few times in the past—much to his eventual regret—but now Dean knew for certain just how much Cas loved them.

They really were a family. And to Dean, maybe Cas was something slightly different. But that conversation could wait for the time being. Right now all that mattered was that the angel—their angel; Dean's angel—was back. He was back and he was safe. And that was enough for now.