"But Dean, he's been out for days. How do you know he isn't... oh, never mind. You need to eat. Here, I got you some pie." Sam let out a breath of frustration. His concern for his ailing brother was growing more every day as was the mystery of the hooded man who shot Cas down with lightning from his fingertips. All the years they'd been hunting, he'd never seen anything with that amount of power. Not even Thor's hammer could amount to it. He strolled reluctantly to his laptop after handing Dean his pie and glanced over to Kevin who was wrapping away at Sam's laptop. "Find anything?" Kevin shot an irritated look up at Sam. "It would go a lot faster if we had an angel, who was you know, alive?" Dean shoved from his chair noisily and stormed off, every ounce of him restraining from ripping the snarky kid a new one. Kevin swallowed, knowing well he should have kept his mouth shut. He mouthed sorry to Sam who was giving him a death glare. Kevin cleared his throat, changing his tone entirely. "From what I've found in common lore, Barachiel was one of the seven archangels amongst the four we already know of. He was one of the four leaders of the seraphim and had endless control over lightning." He paused, training his eyes on the screen. The thought of a Zachariah on steroids made Sam cringe. An angel with a two wing ego was bad enough, let alone six and this one seemed to have anger management issues. "Right. So I'm getting a lot of stuff about him being cast out because he helped Lucifer during the rebellion but supposedly Michael had ganked him during the war. Obviously, that's a lie because he's clearly alive and kicking. But Sam, what I can't figure out is why he's killing angels now. Like, why wait all this time to get his revenge? I don't think we're getting the whole picture here."
Sam nodded quizzically and glanced up to see Dean silently padding down the bunker to the room they had laid Castiel's body in. He felt sorry for Dean. It wasn't the first time he'd lost his beloved angel, but it was the first he had a body to bury. He hadn't the heart to tell him yet that Cas wasn't coming back this time. A big part of him still hoped that he would for his brother's sake. None of this made any sense. Just yesterday, they had stopped just to get some food and drinks so they could get back on the road. They hadn't even been gone for twenty minutes when they found Cas and the Impala pummeled to bits. It was only a short day's drive back to the bunker, but they had no means of transportation and it took them what seemed like forever to get one of their hunter friends nearby to come pick them up. Ever since, they'd been held up at the bunker clinging onto anything they could find to kill the seraph with a screw loose.
Weary green eyes slid down the door to the handle, hesitating as the door was slowly pushed open revealing an angel lying peacefully, silent and unmoving. Dean was hoping for something, a hand or foot that had moved since he left to go sit with his brother. He had memorized every shape and curve of the body that lay so lifeless. It made him shift uncomfortably at the thought of how comforting it felt. He tried cleaning Cas up the best he could, wiping off all the dirt and blood that covered his face. He even went as far as taking off the cooked clothes, it still baffled him how he could wear the same thing over and over for years and still look in decent condition. That was until he got electrocuted by the cloaked maniac. Dean felt a wave of anger surge through him like blood lust on a full moon. He could have saved Cas, he should have. There were still so many things he hadn't been able to say to him. Dean was trying his hardest to forgive Cas for leaving him with no explanation but as far as he was concerned, the worry and heartache were far worse than the beatings he ever took. Above all else, the one thing that weighed the heaviest? He hadn't told him he was sorry too. He knew very well why Cas didn't feel like he could trust him with the Angel Tablet, which stung at him like a thorn in his side. They had been through so much together and he knew as much as Cas that they needed to learn how to trust again. It was plain and simple to him. He would do anything for that stubborn bastard without a bat of an eyelash. He just wished so badly that Cas would listen to him. But that was all hindsight now. He just wanted Cas to know that he was sorry and that he wanted to move on from it. All he wanted was his angel and Sam to be better. He didn't want to think what life would be like without them. They were his everything and nothing else mattered to him. Not even sealing up Hell for good. His heart sunk and he pushed the thoughts aside. He gripped Castiel's limp hand and tipped his head down, a tear forming in the corner of his eye. If he even wakes up from this.
An hour had gone by when Dean solemnly walked back to the main room and slumped in a chair. Kevin and Sam were still sitting unmoved, researching any theory they could come up with. He frowned at the sight of the two. "Did you try calling Garth? See if he knows anything we're missing..." Dean trailed off, eyes becoming vacant. Sam looked up and snorted, "of course not. Nobody's seen or heard from him in weeks." Dean scoffed and sagged his head on a propped hand to which Sam focused his narrowed gaze, furrowed with concern. "Man, you really should get some sleep. We aren't getting any closer to figuring this thing out right now, so why don't you–" Dean interrupted his brother's lecture. "I'm fine, Sam. Would you stop?" He pressed his fingers into his temples and sighed. "It's just that sleeping right now... I keep seeing his face, Sammy. Every time I close my eyes, there's Cas pleading for us to get out of there and now he's gone and I didn't do a damn thing about it." Sam's expression softened with sympathy, wanting more than anything to cheer up his big brother. "We'll find the asshole that did this, Dean, and he'll pay for what he did. I promise."
Sam tried to shake Dean awake from his dreamless coma, using more force when his first attempt failed. He woke up in a daze, unsure of where he was or how long he had been out. Sammy's voice became clearer as the fog began to lift from his head. "Dean. Come on, wake up. Deeeeean." He grabbed at Sammy's arm, responding with a muffled grumble which sounded like something between 'what' and 'no' but Sam didn't care. He patted him on the cheek, which Dean desperately tried to shoo away, swatting at him with his hands. He rolled over on his side to avoid his annoying little brother from interrupting him even more. "Dean. Seriously. Get up. It's Cas, he's awake!" Dean flailed off the tiny couch he was curled up on with a thud, clambering clumsily to his feet. "Say what?" Dean hurried down the corridor, stumbling into a jog.