A/N: Thank you for waiting and for sticking around as long as you have! Enjoy! Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

A few hours had passed within the alternate dimension. Snow had been steadily falling and now about six inches blanketed the ground outside. Sam had just finished hammering in the final nail in the wooden board covering the broken window. Dean sat nearby, his jaw clenching and unclenching with a furious glint in his eyes.

The two men did not speak; neither felt that there was a need to. However, Sam was getting restless and twirled the hammer in his hand as he turned to face Dean. "What's the plan, Sam?" Dean asked. Sam furrowed his brows in thought and set the hammer down on the floor. Without a word, he exited the room, causing Dean to scramble from his perch on Cas' bed to follow him.

"Well, we know this: Cas has been taken and only we can get him back. The only information we have is that riddle. So, maybe we should decipher the note and it will lead us to him?" Sam said as he made his way down the creaky steps, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. Dean followed close behind, thinking about the riddle. The stupid thing made no damn sense to him, no matter how hard he tried to decipher it.

The old house lacked a thermostat so Sam and Dean quickly went down into the basement. Dean shivered violently and his bare feet were beginning to cramp from the cold. He tugged at the long-sleeved grey shirt he had borrowed from Sam and covered his hands with the floppy sleeves. Unfortunately, Dean was stuck wearing the black shorts Cas had dressed him in; the other Dean's room was locked and, according to Sam, only Cas had the key. Sam tinkered with the coughing furnace and it roared to life.

"I think there should be enough coal in there to heat the house for the time being. We have a fireplace in the living room that hasn't been used in awhile, but it should still be able to give us at least some warmth," he said, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them. Dean nodded, goosebumps rising on his skin. Sam glanced over at Dean, whose teeth were chattering, and bit his lip. "Sorry none of my pants fit you, dude," he said apologetically.

Dean extracted one of his hands from under his armpits and waved away Sam's apology. "D-don't worry about it, m-man. I'll b-b-be f-fine," he chattered. Sam noticed that the other hunter's lips were beginning to turn blue and ushered Dean up the stairs. Even though he still felt discomfort around this Dean, Sam was willing to put that aside for Cas' sake. Besides, the discomfort was slowly fading the longer Sam spent with him. Dean nearly tripped up the stairs and cursed under his breath.

Sam stifled a laugh and gestured towards the living room. "Go see if you can figure out that riddle. The note is on the coffee table. I have to get a few things first. I'll be right back," he said before hurrying up the stairs, taking two at a time. Dean shook himself and jumped up and down a few times to try and warm up. His toes and the tendons in the bottom of his feet cramped painfully at the action. "Son of a bitch!" Dean grumbled, practically limping over to the couch.

Dean nearly cried out in relief; his blanket was still where he had left it. When Sam came down the stairs, he was greeted by Dean Winchester wrapped from head to toe in a dark blue plaid throw blanket. Dean turned his head, startled by Sam suddenly bursting out laughing. He could feel his ears get hot with embarrassment and looked away. "It's freezing in here. Don't judge me," he mumbled.

Sam shook his head, still laughing, and set down a massive journal that seemed fit to burst. Dean flicked his eyebrows up in interest and glanced up at Sam. Sam tapped at the cover of the thick black leather book with his middle finger. "This...this is our hunter's log. We record everything in here: monster info, our contacts, memorable places, even the occasional personal entry. All of it...is right in here," he said. He moved away and gestured toward the journal with the back of his hand as he made his way towards the kitchen.

"I thought we could find something in there that could help Cas,"

"You trust me to read it?"

A heavy silence filled the room as Sam halted mid-step. Dean stared at Sam's back with sad eyes; he knew that Sam was just putting up a front because of Cas. Dean knew that he couldn't help the fact that he looked like this Sam's deceased brother, but Dean still felt like crap for making the poor guy have to see his look-a-like sitting on his couch- the couch where his older brother once sat not too long ago. Sam turned his head ever so slightly, his long hair obscuring his face from Dean's view.

"Think of it this way: if I can trust you to console my brother's husband in the middle of the night on our kitchen floor, then I can trust you with our journal," he said before disappearing through the door. Sam's words didn't register with Dean for a moment and he sat there, watching the swinging door of the kitchen stop moving. The moment it clicked, Dean's eyes widened in horror and he clamped a hand over his face. "Oh my god," he muttered. Well, that made things even more awkward than before. Perfect.

Meanwhile, huddled within the darkness of an unknown location, Cas was curled up on a frigid floor. Everything in his body hurt and he could slowly feel his limbs going numb. Snowflakes were still clinging to his dark hair along with a few icicles. He didn't know where he was or even how he had gotten there. The last thing he remembered was going to bed and having a terrible nightmare where something attacked him. Of course Cas had fought with everything he had, but whatever it was struck him on the back of the head and knocked him out.

He frowned; that had not been a dream. Cas was having difficulty separating reality and his dreams. A bloody wound send sharp, agonizing pain through his skull with even the slightest of movement. His arms, tied behind his back with strong rope, were aching so badly that Cas was sure his bones would snap at any moment. He also had a terrible burn on his ankles from the rope tying his feet together rubbing against them. His eyes were getting harder and harder to keep open for the tears he shed froze on his eyelashes.

Suddenly, Castiel's spine spasmed and arched his body forward, causing fresh pain to engulf his senses. More tears streamed down his face and his throat felt like it as on fire as he screamed. "God, if you are out there, if you exist, please," he sobbed, "Show them the answers so that they can get here quickly." Despite the nauseating agony he was going through, Cas knew that it wouldn't last too much longer. He accepted his only two options: die or wait for the Winchester brothers to save him.

For Castiel, it didn't matter how long it took- he would hold on forever if he had to-, there wasn't a single part of him that didn't fully believe that the two hunters would save him. A small smile lifted Cas' cracked lips. "Though, it might not be so bad to die. I'd get to see you again," he whispered. The image of Dean- his Dean- flashed in his mind and his heart swelled with longing and love. The moment Cas saw those warm green eyes on him, the pain seemed to fade into the background.

I miss you.

Things weren't going too smoothly in the other side of the mirror either. Castiel had yet to awaken from his coma-like slumber and Sam was having a panic attack. He was pacing the library, his hands gripping at his hair. It had been almost two days already and Sam was starting to think that he would never free Dean. What Sam didn't know was that the Dean from the other dimension stood nearby, watching Sam pace in frustration. Sam could not see nor hear him; the only way that Dean could communicate was through dreams.

Contacting the angel had drained every last drop of energy from him, however. "You're so different from my Sammy, yet you are the spitting image of him," Dean said. After realizing that Sam could not see nor hear him, Dean decided to just talk, hoping that maybe something would reach Sam. He twisted the ring on his finger, his heart aching. "I know you miss your family just as much as I miss mine. I wish I could figure out a way to help you. I feel so useless!" he said. Dean slammed his fist against the top of the desk in a frustrated rage.

"Whoa! What the hell was that?"

Sam suddenly whirled at the sudden bang on the desk, nearly jumping out of his skin. Dean was sure he looked just like a fish with his mouth opening and closing in shock. Excitement rushed into him and he let out a startled laugh; he had found a way to communicate! Dean hurriedly moved to the other side of the desk and tried flipping the pages of the book. Sam stared at the moving book and instantly snatched at the gun nestled in his belt.

Dean nearly yelped as a rock salt bullet barely grazed his forehead. He jerked back and Sam tightened his grip on the gun. "Watch it! You almost took my head off!" Dean yelled. Sam almost dropped his gun, his eyes going wide. "Dean?! Dean, is that you?" he shouted. The other Dean, in his delight at finally being heard, rushed up to Sammy and stood in front of him. "Sammy, I-!" he tried to say. Sam, ungracefully, jumped back and lost his balance. He fell onto his ass and looked around wildly.

"Jeez, you scared me! Where are you?" he spluttered. The other Dean had to force himself to calm down and knelt next to Sam. He took a few minutes to actually look at this dimension's Sam. There were no scars to remind Dean about all the times he had failed to protect Sammy from getting injured, his hair wasn't as long as his Sam's mane, and he didn't wear the dorky clothes his Sam wore. It made Dean feel a rush of homesickness. He missed them terribly. "I'm not your Dean, but I am Dean," Dean said.

Sam scrunched his brows in befuddlement. Dean sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. "Looks like I've got a lot of explaining to do," he said, "It's a long story. Get comfortable." Sam tried to focus on the spot where Dean's voice was coming from and his eyes flicked around warily. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and sat down on the floor. Sam gulped and grabbed at his gun again, less threatening this time. "How do I know you're telling the truth? You could be some sort of spirit or demon trying to trick me. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you now," he said.

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed the gun from Sam's hand. Taken completely off-guard, Sam squawked in surprise and stared at the hovering gun in front of him. "For one thing, you can't see me, so good luck with trying to shoot me. Remember how it worked out the last time you shot at me? Second, wouldn't you like to know what happened to your brother?" Dean said. Sam continued to stare at the gun, but he slowly nodded his head, a few strands of hair falling over his eyes.

Carefully, Dean unloaded the gun and set it down on the floor beside him. Sam's eyes followed the gun then darted back up to the space he believed Dean was sitting in. He was off by a couple inches but progress, nonetheless. "Wait, last time? Does that mean you were the shadow thing that shoved Dean through the mirror?" Sam asked. Dean hummed, impressed; this Sam was sharper then he looked. Sam took Dean's hum as a 'yes' and his eyes automatically locked onto the gun.

"Hold on there, Twitchy Fingers, you said you'd let me explain," Dean warned. Sam did not seem happy by this response but tore his gaze from the gun regardless. Dean almost laughed at the grumpy pout on Sam's face. "By the way, you look like a pissed off moose when you do that," he teased without thinking. Sam blinked in surprise.

"If you're that shadow, then why do you sound so much like my brother?"

"That's because I am your brother. Well, technically, I am another version of your brother,"

Sam's full attention was on Dean now- rather the space he thought Dean was in. Dean rubbed at his temples as a pounding migraine was steadily pulsing. He had to take about three minutes just to speak again; it hurt too much to speak. "Look, I don't have much time to explain. I told Cas most of the story, so go to him for the details. To sum it up, that mirror is a rift that links our two dimensions. Dean is in mine and I am in yours. Something really bad has happened to someone in my dimension and I need your help," he said.

Sam was nodding in understanding, which relieved Dean to no end; he was grateful that he didn't have to explain too much. He was about to say something else, but the awful wind was back. Sam didn't seem to notice the wind, but he could hear Dean's sudden screams as he was forcefully dragged back into the mirror. As the library filled with silence, Sam stood up in a panic. "Dean? Dean!" he shouted.

When he got no answer, Sam turned and eyed the book on top of the desk. He hesitated, looking from the gun on the floor to the book. He took a deep breath then let it out in a gush. "I must be crazy," he muttered. He turned the book around to face him and studied the pages. His eyes scanned each word and picture, taking in the new information. Suddenly, Sam found it- the answer to rescuing his Dean. He wanted to smack himself; how could he not have realized sooner? It was right in front of his face!

While Sam was having an epiphany, Castiel, lying still on Dean's bed, was beginning to stir.

A/N: Thank you all for being so patient! You're awesome! Hope you liked it!