A/N: My internet has been acting wonky. :( I'm sorry for delaying my updating for so long. Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

With her heels clicking on the rippling surface of her chamber within the mirror, "Charlie" approached the slumped figure in the corner. She knelt in front of him and lifted his chin with the tip of her nail. As his dull green eyes met hers, "Charlie" grinned.

"You like it?" she asked, looking down at herself, "I thought a change in form was in order." The other Dean's lip curled in anger and he made an attempt to lunge at "Charlie", only to fall on his face as she stepped out of the way.

"I wouldn't move if I were you," she said. She threw her head back and laughed, the sound echoing throughout the chamber. Dean lifted his head with a grunt and glared at her intensely. "How dare you use her like that?" he snarled.

She made small hum in the back of her throat and paced the floor with her hands behind her back. "Well, considering you haven't done your job correctly and I've been starving," she snapped with a heated, accusatory glare in his direction, "I had to find a way to keep myself healthy. The only way to do that was to take over a form that could contain me."

Dean snorted in disgust and managed to heave himself onto his side. The action drained him and soon he was panting for breath. "Charlie" looked at him in amusement and examined her nails as though they were the most interesting things in the world.

"You're going to die again, Dean," she said coldly, "I know you must have thought that since you managed to stop my feedings and got your pathetic other dimensional self to fight your battles for you that you'd be able to defeat me.

"How wrong you were. All you did was cause both of your families heartbreak and misery. Tell me, how has that little decision worked out for you, hmm? Has Dean fulfilled your requirements? From what I saw, he was just a replacement for you. Another Dean Winchester that would come and go. It hurt your precious Castiel something fierce, though, to see an exact replica of his dead husband."

Dean's eyes squeezed shut. He didn't want to hear what the rift had to say; he wanted it to shut it up, especially since it was speaking through Charlie's body. He couldn't help but flinch at the mention of Cas. Which, of course, "Charlie" noticed.

"Oh, yes, you just about broke his heart again with that choice. Poor Sammy, too. Seeing his dead older brother must have really smarted his very soul," she taunted in a mocking tone. Burning hot rage boiled in Dean's stomach and it felt as though his skin had been set ablaze. He knew that the rift was showing him such cruelty on purpose, but he couldn't control himself.

His teeth clenched painfully and he was sure he was seeing red. Every muscle in his body tensed and his hands clenched into tight fists. But the rift didn't seem to care about the livid, energy-drained man on the floor in front of her. She tilted her head back and stared down at him in cruel amusement.

"You know, I must admit that I was impressed that you not only got Dean into your world safely and without my knowing, but you also got through to his angel. Now, he looked yummy. You had your chance to redeem yourself with me, but you decided to warn him that I was going to eat him. That was just plain rude of you," the rift said with a pout.

Dean swallowed hard and his anger gave him enough strength to push himself onto his knees. The rift looked at him in surprise then a supernaturally wide smirk stretched across Charlie's face.

She had Dean by the throat in a flash and had him pinned to the wall. His skull struck hard and caused cracks and bits of broken glass to clink to the floor. "I forgot how strong you were. Your hunter skills really do come in handy. Too bad for you that they won't help you much in this situation," she chuckled. Dean's eyes were rolling back in his head and she release just a little bit of the pressure she'd been exerting.

"He'll stop you," Dean croaked, "Dean will stop you and you'll be sorry you ever messed with our family." The rift did not seem intimidated and chuckled. Her nails gripped harder into the soft skin of Dean's neck, drawing blood. She paused a moment to watch the thin streaks of crimson trickle down the man's tanned skin.

She leaned closer and brushed her lips against the shell of his ear. "The only way you could ever stop me would be if by some miracle, which, I'm afraid, you're fresh out of. Now," she said, stepping away and letting Dean fall to the floor, "if you'll excuse me, I have a married man to finish off. He has been dying for me to do so for quite some time."

As she cackled, Dean stiffened, his eyes widening in horrified realization. No. His skin burned with cold sweat and painful numbness coiled within his body. "You...you sadistic bitch! Let Cas go or I swear on all that is holy, I will kill you!" he yelled. The rift dismissed his threat with the wave of her hand and disappeared.

Dean slumped to the ground again, his face smashed against the cool glass surface. He knew he had to warn the other Cas and Sam, but he couldn't move a muscle. Then, for the first time in a long time, Dean closed his eyes and started praying.

Cas.

In the bunker, Sam sat at one of the tables in the library with a book about rifts in front of him. He had been studying it while Cas laid on his back on Dean's bed. The angel claimed that it would make contacting the hunter easier if he were in Dean's room, but Sam knew better. He smirked halfheartedly and turned to the next page.

He stared at the black inked-in words on the paper thin article and the buzzing, slowly rising feeling of panic, which had been humming in his gut, heightened to the point where Sam could hardly breathe. His heart speedily hammered against his rib cage, fueling the sensation, and, all at once, his body began to shake.

His hands were shaking so hard that he could barely hold the book. His index finger reached to grab at the next page and the sharp edge of the paper sliced down the middle of the soft flesh of his finger pad. Sam slowly lifted his finger, watching the thin cut ooze dark red blood, shiny and sticky, which slithered into the grooves and lines of his hand.

A gray hazy fog drifted over his thoughts, causing any sense of coherence to be muffled. Sam barely focused on the sharp, pulsing pain of the paper cut for he was completely captivated by the sliver of red drying along the pale skin of his finger.

He wondered, for a split second, if the other Sam could feel the same burning from a simple cut. His eyes were beginning to sting from his lack of blinking, but Sam couldn't tear his attention away from the sight that had happened only seconds ago.

In that moment, Sam Winchester had a sudden realization. He stood calmly, never removing his gaze from the cut, even when the book fell to the floor with a low thud. According to the Dean from the mirror dimension, someone he cared about was in trouble- trouble that he needed Sam's help with.

His Dean was in the other reality- the world where the person the other Dean was referring to was in danger. Knowing his brother better than anyone, Sam realized that Dean must have already been trying to help. He must have met the other Dean's Sam and Castiel and would be there when whatever happened to the unfortunate person occurred.

'Of course, that's why he hasn't returned. He put his own problems to the side for the people he cares about- or different versions of them, anyway. But, to Dean, it won't matter what version he is with because he cares for us no matter what,' Sam thought. A punch of guilt slammed into Sam's stomach and he clenched his fists. He was a hunter, too, damn it. Dean was out there saving people while Sam sat on his ass, reading books and acting like he was useless without his older brother.

His head clear, Sam began to recollect what all had happened since Dean's disappearance. The scene with Cas and the other Dean played in his mind like an HD movie clip. From what Sam had heard and from what the angel had explained, the rift wanted to keep the other Dean from reaching out to Sam and wanted to eat Cas, who had been acting so strangely. Deep in thought, Sam finally tore his eyes away from the paper cut on his finger and picked up the book on the floor.

Frantically flipping to the page he'd been about to read and quickly scanned its contents, looking for that certain tidbit of information that would prove the theory forming in his mind. After a few moments of searching, Sam was about to slam the book shut again- until he found it. A jolting spark of fear jump-started his heart into overdrive.

Sam stumbled into a run, throwing the book behind him carelessly. His long legs carried him across the floor and his feet slipped awkwardly trying to keep up with the desperate strides. He had to get to Castiel...before it was too late.

The angel, unaware of the events happening within the bunker, was standing in what appeared to be an old house. He could see a man sitting at a table, long hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. The man had broad shoulders that were stiff with tension. Knowing that he could not be seen by the man, Cas followed the tugging sensation in his heart.

He held the railing of the staircase as he ascended the creaky wooden steps up to the second floor. His calm blue gaze swept along the dark hallway, taking in the various dusty pictures hung along its walls. He paused mid-step, peering curiously at a particular picture. In the grimy golden frame, four people were posed in what looked to Cas like a group hug.

In the bottom right of the picture stood a small woman with long fiery red hair and bright green eyes. She was smiling impishly towards the camera and had one arm wrapped around the man beside her while the other could not be seen. Cas assumed it was around the man standing slightly behind her. His eyes flicked to the person beside the woman.

This looked like the man he had seen downstairs. Chestnut brown hair spilled down his back and over the tops of his broad shoulders. The beginnings of a beard were just starting to cover his sharp jawline. His skin seemed smooth and three moles- one by the corner of his lip, one on his chin, and another just under his cheekbone. Cas could see the warm smile in the man's almond shaped, hazel eyes as well as on his lips.

He, too, had his long, muscular arm around the red-haired woman with his other around the man slightly behind him. Cas looked up at the next person in the photo and, with a jolt, recognized the other Dean Winchester. Only he looked a lot different in this picture that he did in real life.

He was smiling, for one thing- a goofy, toothy grin at that. He had stubble, unlike the trimmed beard he had had when Cas had seen him. His hair was styled, neatly combed, and held a healthy glossy glow to it in contrast to his now unkempt, dull hair. Cas could see Dean's freckles more clearly and how tanned his skin was. He had no scars; his skin was smooth and unblemished, aside from his thousands of freckles.

He wore a grey t-shirt with big red lettering on the front that said AC/DC. For some odd reason that Cas could not explain, the angel recognized the shirt and could almost feel the texture of its fabric on his skin. He shivered, goosebumps prickling along his arms and back.

Castiel stared at the other Dean for a few more moments, taking in the happy glow and the warmth in his bright green eyes, then glanced at the final person in the photo. A strange sense of shock as the blue eyes of Jimmy Novak looked back at him sent Castiel stumbling back a few steps, his back bumping into the opposite wall.

'Wait, this must be the other Castiel. This is Dean's...husband,' the angel thought as he recovered from being startled. He peered closer at the other Cas with a new curiosity. He still did not know what a husband actually was, but he assumed that it meant that this person- this human man that shared Cas' vessel- was precious to the other Dean.

The other Cas had short black hair that stuck up in all different directions, as though someone had messed it up. He had brilliant blue eyes that were alight with laughter. He, too, was grinning happily, which caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle and his nose to scrunch up slightly.

The angel couldn't see Cas' arms, but he could tell that they were snugly wrapped around the woman below him and, of course, Dean. Cas' turned his attention briefly to the taller man next to the woman and realized that he must have been the other Sam. 'Which means...the woman,' Cas thought, looking at the redhead.

His stomach heaved and a stab of pain sparked through his chest. "Charlie," he whispered. He knew she had looked familiar. His fingers touched lightly at the glass of the picture. He could almost hear her laugh, feel her playful punch on his arm as she asked had the two become best friends. His face felt wet and Cas touched his cheek to find that he was crying. A pang jolted through his chest.

Shaking his head, Cas cleared his throat, wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, and, to distract himself, quickly returned to his original mission: finding Dean. All the doors in the hallway were closed so Cas opened each one. The first door turned out to be a linen closet, filled with fluffy towels. The second was the bathroom, while the third led to a laundry room.

Frowning and frustrated, Cas tried the fourth door and found it locked tight. Cas clicked his tongue in annoyance and went to the door at the end of the hall. As he approached, he noticed that the door was ajar. Curious, Cas pushed the creaky door open and nearly stepped on a shard of broken glass.

This bedroom- or, what used to be a bedroom- looked as though someone had had a viscous fight within. Articles of clothing, an assortment of different knickknacks, books, and what appeared to be posters scattered hazardously throughout the room.

The window, which had been boarded up with a thick piece of wood, had been broken and, though the majority of it has been swept up, there were still shards of pane glittering on the hardwood. 'I must've been too late,' Cas thought in dismay, 'This must be where the awful something Dean mentioned occurred.'

He turned away from the upsetting mess and shut the door just enough to resemble the way he'd first found it; he wasn't supposed to be here, after all. It confused Castiel quite a bit as to why he was allowed to walk through such a place. This didn't feel like Dean's mind; it felt quite similar to his own, to be frank. He had figured this out quite some time ago and had assumed that he'd needed to physically be near Dean in order to enter the hunter's dreams.

His mouth quirked down in a befuddled frown as Cas tried the last door in the hallway. Almost immediately, his heart seemed to leap forward like an eager puppy as the tugging sensation increased drastically. Behind the door was another bedroom, only this one was being currently occupied.

The angel's whole body felt as though it had been turned to gelatin. His limbs were both heavy and burning with adrenaline. His lungs and heartbeat all were working overtime. A peculiar buzzing sensation prickled into the very pores of his skin and goosebumps tickled over every inch of him.

The inside of his mouth was dry and his throat was thick with a heavy lump. An almost aching fluttering cramped in Cas' stomach along with the rise of what could have been a rather heartbreaking whimper lingered within the inner depths of his chest. He felt completely filled with air yet out of breath.

The angel took short wobbly steps towards the huddled, blanket adorned figure that was lying on top of a bed. Even though Cas could not see who was under the blankets, he knew exactly who slumbered beneath their warmth. His fingers gripped at the soft white comforter and pulled it back shakily.

Dean.

A/N: I really hope that I haven't bored anyone with the way this story is progressing. It might just be an author thing, but each time I reread what I've written, I feel it lacks a certain...spark? I apologize if this is the case for you all. I will try harder to get the points across. Until next time!