A/N: Ladies, gentlemen, and beyond, I present the seventh chapter! :3 I know I'm a dork. Don't judge me. Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

The light of dawn was just inching its way through the windows of the bunker when Sam woke up. He had a terrible sense of foreboding and flung the covers from his body. In his hurry to rise, Sam's foot caught onto the comforter and tripped him, causing him to slam onto the floor face-first. Sam laid there for a few moments, his nose throbbing and his head pounding.

Groaning, Sam pushed himself to his feet and untangled his foot from the blanket, muttering curses under his breath. Something warm and wet dripped down his lips and chin. Wiping his face with the back of his hand, Sam found that his nose had begun to bleed. "Of course," he grumbled.

While Sam took care of his predicament, Castiel was still on the floor of the library with the other Dean. "So, this bitch," Dean continued, "took the vial with the virus and slammed it onto the floor WWE Smack down style. There was this huge explosion and it knocked everyone off of our feet. We were surrounded on all sides by the ugliest sons of bitches I've ever seen.

"I couldn't see Cas or Sammy, but I did see that huntress chick make a run for it. From over the noises of the monsters, I could hear Sam and Cas fighting. I knew that we wouldn't make it out of there alive if someone didn't do something. I looked around, while killing monsters, and found an opening in the warehouse that we three could fit into."

Dean paused, his eyes clouding over. Castiel, who had been listening silently, tilted his head. "Dean, are you alright?" he asked. Dean shook himself, as though in a daze, and looked over at Cas with a tight smile. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Sorry, it's just a bit hard for me to tell this part of the story," Dean said quietly.

Cas nodded slowly and put his hand on Dean's knee. When Dean glanced over at him in surprise, Cas smiled slightly with encouragement. Dean gulped and took in a shaky breath. "We managed to get through the gap and were running when I realized that that virus had done more to me than just knock me down," he said.

Gingerly, Dean lifted his shirt, revealing gaping vertical wounds running down his torso and chest. Though they were scabbed over, Cas could tell that they were deep and fatal. He also realized that his angelic healing powers would not heal Dean's wounds; they would have healed when he'd touched Dean's forehead before.

"I still don't know how I managed to get us all out of there and back to our house in one piece, but I did," Dean continued, pulling down his shirt, "The minute we got through the door, I couldn't take it anymore. Sammy caught me before I could smack my face on the hardwood and he carried me over to the couch.

"He and Cas tried to heal me with everything they had, but they weren't miracle workers. Hell, they even tried to do a few spells on me. When that didn't work, I had to tell them to stop. I was dying and I knew that I only had a few more moments. I said goodbye to Sam first. He had that look on his face- the one where he felt guilty and responsible. I didn't get the chance to tell him otherwise.

"Cas had been holding my hand the whole time. The only thing that I could manage to do was squeeze his hand a little before everything went dark. I didn't even get to chance to say I love you." Dean looked up at the ceiling and his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard to refrain from crying. Cas, who had taken the news of their marriage quite well, felt the bizarre swirl of emotions he had first felt in front of the mirror fill him again.

Cas' eyes widened with realization and he slid his hand up to Dean's shoulder. "These feelings...they're yours," he whispered. Dean nodded and put his head in his hands. "After I died, I found myself inside the rift. I could see my family, but I couldn't reach out to them or say anything; they wouldn't have been able to hear me anyway. I saw their reactions and it just about killed me a second time," he said, "I could see everything that happened since then and I've been trying desperately to find my way back.

"I have been in that mirror for about a year now. I figured out that, in order for the rift to cease to exist, I'd have to...I guess feed it. I found out that I could shift between our realities and got seven people to come to the rift. They weren't hurt, just put into a safe place within my dimension. When your Dean and Sam came along, I knew that they were the ones that could help me. I put Dean through, but with Sam shooting at me, I couldn't pinpoint where I threw him.

"I think that because Dean and I share the same- well, everything- our emotions somehow mix; I can feel what he feels at times and I'm guessing that he can feel what I feel." Dean stopped talking, suddenly jerking his head up to glare at the mirror. Cas felt an almost electric sensation that sent the hairs on his arms standing on end. A furious wind tore through the library, sending books and papers flying throughout the room. The wind seemed hellbent on tearing Cas' clothes from his body; it whipped them every which way. His hair was in the same predicament.

"Something's wrong," Dean said. His voice held the dangerous tone of an experienced hunter. He didn't seem to be bothered by the wind. Cas quickly stood as the hunter rose to his feet. His eyes were hard and his jaw clenched furiously. His senses on high alert, Cas watched the mirror cautiously, ready to strike should anything come through. Dean's green eyes flickered over the mirror's surface, analyzing something that the angel couldn't see. He suddenly stiffened and took a few steps towards the mirror with a panicked expression on his face.

"That's impossible! She should be dead," Dean whispered in horror. Cas jumped, startled, as Dean whirled around to face Cas with wild eyes. He moved forward and grabbed Castiel by the shoulders. "Cas, I've got to go back! There's trouble and, if I don't find a way to get into my dimension, things could get really bad," he said desperately. The angel nodded seriously, but he was still confused. Thankfully, Dean noticed. "If I don't get back, something awful could happen. Something that could hurt or possibly kill your Dean," he explained. Another torrent of emotions nearly overwhelmed the angel.

He immediately grasped Dean by the arms and shook him a little. "How can I get to him? Tell me how I can save Dean," he growled. The hunter stared at him for a few moments then a knowing, almost amused look glinted in his eyes. Cas ignored this and felt the ghostly sensation of hands on his hands then face. Dean glanced over into the hallway behind Cas then back on the angel.

He took Cas' face in his hands and, much to Castiel's embarrassment, kissed his forehead. "When you return to your body, go to the mirror with Sam. I'll do what I can until then. Once you get there, I'll explain more in detail. Go now!" he said. He pulled Cas into a tight embrace then spun and rushed into the mirror. The moment he vanished, Cas felt as though he had been struck with a frying pan and slumped to the floor.

Sam, who had fixed his nosebleed and went to check on Castiel, was sitting next to the angel with a panicked expression. He had tried calling to Cas then, when he had received no response, had laid a hand on the angel's. It had been ice cold. Sam had frantically grabbed Cas by the face, but it was just as cold as his hands. He was just about to start freaking out when Cas suddenly gasped for air. The angel's eyes widened and his back arched off of the bed as his hands gripped at his chest.

"Cas, you're okay!" Sam said in relief. Cas slumped back down against the mattress with an exhausted expression on his face. His heart felt as though it were about to explode within his chest. Sam watched the angel worriedly; he had truly thought that Cas had died. "Sam," Cas began in a raspy voice. Sam leaned in and Cas grasped at Sam's collar. "It's Dean...he's in trouble. We have to go back to the mirror," he whispered before his head slumped to the side. His eyes fell shut and Sam felt the tired sigh against his collarbone.

After a few moments of contemplating, Sam nodded. "Alright, Cas. Get some rest and I'll get the Impala ready," he said. Castiel was already asleep, lightly snoring into Dean's pillow. Sam stood and gnawed at his lower lip. What had happened while he was sleeping? Making a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, Sam ran a hand through his hair and made his way into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. It was still too early for this.

Back in the other dimension, Dean was just opening his eyes. The scent of coffee made his mouth water and he sat up, grunting a little. His eyes felt heavy with sleep and he rubbed at them. "Good morning," came a voice from behind him. Dean turned and saw Sam standing with two cups of coffee in his hands. Dean remembered the upstairs conversation and felt a knot form in his stomach. Sam strode over and held out one of the steaming mugs towards Dean. "I thought you might like some coffee. You do drink coffee, don't you?" he asked. Dean nodded and took the cup with a grateful smile.

Sam sat down in one of the armchairs and sipped from his cup. Dean followed his example and took a sip. As the hot, smooth coffee hit his tongue, Dean's eyes fluttered shut and he savored the taste. It was perfect. He heard a small chuckle and looked up to find Sam grinning at him from over his mug. Embarrassed, Dean cleared his throat and wrapped both hands around the mug; it was freezing in the house and the warmth of the cup heated his icy fingers. "I, uh, I heard what you said last night," he began.

Sam flicked his eyes up to stare at Dean with a guarded look of surprise. "What did you hear?" he asked. Dean bit the inside of his cheek; he was trying to decided whether or not to regret asking. "You said that I would never be your brother and that there was no way to save your Dean," he began awkwardly. To his surprise, Sam didn't say anything and even looked away with an almost guilty expression. "Yeah, about that...I'm sorry," he said. Dean blinked in surprise.

"I did some thinking and realized that you had no control over what happened to you. You had no idea what had happened here and were just trying to help us as you would your own brother and...friend," he said, hesitating a moment. Dean's ears felt hot and he avoided Sam's apologetic hazel gaze. A small smirk quirked up Sam's lips and he sipped at his coffee again. They sat in silence for awhile, each drinking the cooling coffee. When about thirty minutes passed, Dean frowned and glanced up at the stairs.

"Does he usually sleep in this late?" he asked. Sam's brows furrowed and he, too, frowned. Worry burst through Dean when Sam shook his head. Setting his mug down on the coffee table, Dean stood and made his way over to the stairs. He paused at the railing and craned his neck to see into the hallway. Sam joined him and his frown deepened. "Cas? You up?" Sam shouted. There was no answer. Sam and Dean shared a look then the two bounded up the stairs, taking three at a time.

"Cas?!"

"Where are you, buddy?!"

Sam was nearly sprinting at this point and barged into what Dean assumed to be Castiel's room. Dean collided into Sam's back and grabbed at his nose as it throbbed. He opened his mouth to say something, but one glance into the room shut him up in an instant. To say that there were signs of struggle would be an understatement; the room was completely trashed. Sam took a few steps into the room and looked around. He leaned down and picked up a shattered picture frame. Inside was a blood splattered picture of Team Free Will before the monster apocalypse.

"Sam?"

"What?"

"Look,"

Sam followed the pale Dean's pointing finger to the window. His heart plummeted into his stomach. The glass pane had been broken and the curtains flapped in the cold wind billowing through the room. 'That's why it is so cold in the house,' Dean thought. His mouth was dry and he felt like he was going to be sick. Sam swallowed hard and grasped at one of the curtains. Dean heard the crinkling sound of paper as Sam ripped something from the curtain. "Dean," Sam said. Dean ignored the thrill of relief of Sam calling him by his name and crossed the room to stand beside the long-haired man. 'Back to the place where it began, your angel will fall again. The time Gemini is seen in the sky is all you'll have. Don't dawdle; you've already missed the train.'

Sam's fingers gripped at the edges of the note, making the paper wrinkle. Dean felt as though the breath had been knocked out of his lungs with a sledgehammer. Sam closed his eyes and looked out the window with a cold, hard glare. Dean's shock slowly melted into fury and he, too, glared out the window. Fat, white snowflakes fell gracefully into the room, littering the hardwood with sparkling ice. Whoever or whatever had kidnapped Cas had made a terrible mistake; they had invoked the Winchester brothers' wrath.

All hell was about to break loose for the second time in that dimension, but, this time, the monsters were the ones that needed to fear for their lives.

A/N: Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Fangirling/ fanboying? Let me know! Thank you so much for reading!