I was woken by an incessant beeping. Beep. Beep. Beep. What the hell is that? I let my eyes flutter open, the room was dark. The culprit was on my bedside table- a digital alarm clock, aggressively red numbers, the sound pounding in my head. The door burst open, flooding light into the room. I blinked dumbly. This wasn't my bedroom. It wasn't anywhere I'd ever been before. Non-descript, grey curtains hung against a magnolia wall; the bedsheets wrapped around my body were white and starchy. Hotel.

"Hey, you, you should be up by now! We're going to miss our flight." The voice was Dean's, warm and deep- affectionate.

What flight? I rubbed my eyes. "Dean? What's going on?" I sat myself up.

"Chrissy, you alright? Seem a little spaced out."

Chrissy? Who the hell was Chrissy? What in god's name was going on? I felt panic rising in my chest, so took a couple of steadying breaths.

"Oh, no, I'm uh- fine. Tired. What time's the flight?" I tried to play along, but my head was spinning.

"We got ages. I just wanted you to get up." A warm kiss was planted on the top of my head.

"Oh, right." He looked like Dean, he sounded like Dean, but he was… happier? Freer? Not my Dean. "and, um, where are we going again?"

Not my Dean gave me a perturbed look. "Did you hit your head? You sure you're okay, angel?" I felt my stomach knot. Angel. But he wasn't talking to me.

"I, uh, I'm fine, Dean. I just… like to hear it." "Canada. The Rockies. Just what you wanted to do for your birthday…Just me and you, nature, lodges with hottubs-" He winked at me. "You gonna get up now?"

"Sure. I'm up."

I blinked awake again. There was no alarm, but the room was still dark. The bed was huge and comfy, and it felt like there was endless expanse between me and the other side. The sheets were soft, well slept in, not like the ones in the hotel. I padded toward the door, trying to ignore my surroundings.Just work it out. I slipped through the door and onto a well decorated landing, the plush carpet warm under my feet. Snippets of a song travelled up the stairs.

Walking back to you
Is the hardest thing that I can do
That I can do for you
For you

It was the Jesus and Mary Chain, one of the many bands Dean and I disagreed on. It felt loud, like it was pounding in my ears. I followed the music down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Mornin', sunshine," It was Dean, again, this time he was wearing blue overalls, his name embroidered on a patch on his chest. "Breakfast's ready, but I gotta dash."

He set a couple of waffles on a plate and motioned me to sit down. "You're damn lucky to get a day off you know," he kissed my cheek, hand squeezing my shoulders. "But I guess when you own the damn company, you should probably show your face, huh?" I gave him a weak smile. "Anyways, have a good day, Chris, see you at six for dinner?"

I didn't say anything, merely nodded and tried to smile. Owning a company? He was dressed like a mechanic- did he own a garage now? My heart started thudding in my chest. He was out of the life. He was travelling, working a normal nine to five. I put my head in my hands. What the hell was going on? How did he get out? Then it hit me like a wave breaking. Chrissy. I wasn't there, he wasn't with me, or Sam, he was with someone else, someone new. Without me, he'd be fine, he'd move on, he'd leave this shitty life behind him. He'd meet someone else, he'd be happy. Without me. I tried to stand up but my legs were shaky, and I could feel nausea rising. Was this the future? A dream? A vision? The music had stopped but I could still hear the words in my mind.

Walking back to you, is the hardest thing I can do, that I can do for you.

I'm not good for him, now, him or Sam, if I go stay, I'm holding him back. I willed my legs to hold my weight and tried to find the front door. I needed air, even if this was a dream, I needed to breathe. I found my way to the entrance hall, the door in my sights. The door handle was hot to the touch, hot enough to leave a red mark on my skin. I pulled my sleeve down over my hand and tried again, twisting and turning while the door rattled in its frame.

"Please. Please. I need to get out. Please." I didn't know who I was talking to.

The door clicked open. I stepped through and everything around me seemed to melt into something else. I closed my eyes and pressed my hands to my ears. "No. No. Not again,"

I shot up. Panting, sweat beading on my forehead. My sheets felt damp and my head was pounding, I could hear my blood pumping in my ears. I was in my own bed, in my own room in the bunker. No alarm clock, no music drifting up the stairs, nothing. I slipped out of bed and grabbed a clean towel.

You just need to clear your head, I told myself, clear the fog.

I almost sprinted to the bathrooms. I switched on the shower furthest from the door, hoping that nobody else came in. I let the warmth roll over me, breathing in the steam from the too-hot water. I looked at my hand. There, clear as day, a red burn mark, right where my skin came into contact with the door handle. It wasn't a dream. It was real. I was there. It stung when the hot water touched it.

I fumbled to turn the water off as quickly as I could and backed out of the cubicle, clumsily, my hands shaking. It was real. I dried myself quickly, not even bothering with my hair. I dashed back to my room, tears stinging in my eyes. I pulled on some jeans and a sweater, grabbed my car keys and bolted for the door.

"Maya?" She was sat in the far corner of a near empty diner, a cold mug of coffee in front of her. Castiel shook his head when he was offered his own.

"How do they do that?" her voice was quiet, defeated.

"Do what?"

"Get in your head like that."

Cas slammed his eyes shut. "What did they do to you, Maya?" She paused, went to pick up her coffee, but changed her mind.

"They showed me the future. I was there, like a dream, but I wasn't myself – I was someone else. Dean was… Dean had moved on,"

The angel clenched his jaw at her words.

"He was happy." He heard her breath catch in her throat, and she dropped her gaze to her hands, knotted in her lap.

"They don't want you with them, Maya, with Sam and Dean. They know you are weaker divided… do not listen to them."

"What if they're right?"

"They're trying to convince you to hand yourself over to them, without a fight. They are trying to convince you that Dean would be better off without you, that he will be happy. It is not a vision of the future, Maya. They are trying to cater to your weaknesses."

Tears were welling in her eyes, and Cas felt his stomach tighten.

"But what if they're right?" she asked again.

"We are not going to let it be right, Maya. The only way that that could ever, ever, be real, would be if you handed yourself in. You're not going to do that."

She didn't look at him. Instead she fumbled with the sleeve of her jacket.

"Maya, no."

"What if it's the only way?" "It is not the only way. I cannot let you do this, promise me you won't do this."

She looked at him now, her eyes boring deep into his own.

He fought not to break her gaze. Then, she simply nodded.

"I promise."