Updated: 07/03/17 - a couple of lower case "i"s corrected.

Just like to say thanks for all the follows and favourites guys! Seriously, I had 7 followers and 2 favourites after just one day! That's the best I've ever had on a fic in that amount of time :3

I won't ramble on today, just enjoy...

Chapter 2

When he woke up, Dean noticed with a dim confusion that he was lying on a decidedly hard surface; much more so than that of a motel bed, at least. Opening his eyes, he was struck by how he was peering up at said bed from ground level.

Shaking his head to rid himself of his apparent disorientation just made him feel dizzier and blinking rapidly didn't do much to clear the sleep from his eyes. He hauled himself up onto his hands and knees and felt bile rise in his throat. Nope. He fell to the floor and the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness again was his brother stirring in his sleep.

He woke to a gentle shake and someone calling out Cas' name. Sammy. It was Sammy speaking, he realised. He groaned and shifted into an upright position but didn't open his eyes for fear he'd overwhelm himself and pass out again.

What the hell had even happened? Had they been attacked? If so, why hadn't Sam woken up? Ninjas. That was the single word his brain supplied and Dean nodded; that made sense.

"Cas?" Sam questioned, "You okay man?"

That was another question, if Sam was asking if Cas was alright, who was currently holding Dean steady with their hands on his shoulders?

Sam, again, started questioning the angel, "Cas? Listen, do you know where Dean is?"

Wait, what? He was right here and Sam sounded like he was right in front of him. How could he not see him? Maybe he was invisible, he realised with a start. But before he started panicking, he realised he should probably open his eyes to get a better hold on the situation.

Slowly, so as not to confuse his senses, he peered into the empty space in front of him; the motel room was looking significantly brighter than before he went to sleep so he guessed it was morning - or afternoon - and he'd clearly been out all night.

He felt one hand leave his shoulder and sensed someone moving back out of his personal space to his right. He turned his head to see his brother looking at him with concern and one hand still on his shoulder. But, wait, if Sam was with him...

He looked around quickly, searching for Cas but discovered that the angel didn't seem to be in the room, which meant-

"Thank god you're alright... I mean, no offense. Not God. Just, I'm just glad you're okay... Have you seen Dean? Do you know what happened to him?" Sam continued his onslaught of questions as Dean's frown began to deepen and the situation dawned on him. "Cas?" Sam shook him by the shoulders again. "Cas?" A little harder. "Castiel, snap out of it, where's my brother?"

And all Dean could do was squeeze his brother's arm and mutter "Ninjas" - in a painfully familiar, deep, rough voice - before his mind rejected the reality of the situation and blanked, leaving him to fall into Sam's arms, once again unconscious.

When Dean came around for the third time that day, he noticed his head wasn't pounding nearly as much and his eyes didn't hurt at all to open, despite the level of light flooding into the room at this time. Dean guessed it had to be mid-day.

Looking around, he noticed he was led on the same bed he'd fallen asleep in the night before and his heart skipped a beat as he realised that the whole ninja thing and Sam calling him Castiel, had clearly been a dream.

And then he was filled again with that sense of dread from his so-called dream as he threw back the covers to find himself dressed in the angels attire - trench coat and all.

His not-so-manly shriek could probably be heard by just about everyone currently inhabiting the dingy "Minneapolis' Maple Motel" which, funnily enough, was over 300 miles from Minneapolis.

A crash was heard from the bathroom before he heard his brother swear. A moment later, Sam ran into the room in nothing but a shower cap and a small white hand towel wrapped part-way around his waist.

Ignoring the many, many questions this raised for Dean, he stuck to the basics for now.

"Dude!" he grimaced at his own voice. "What the hell is going on?!"

Sam gave him that stupid look where he opens his eyes wide as if you're missing something really obvious and he can't believe how stupid you're being, the exact same look he'd been given last night when he forgot Cas didn't sleep. He had to admit, that had been pretty stupid but he wasn't sure what exactly he was supposed to be missing here.

"What are you talking about Cas? You're the one that keeps passing out and won't tell me where Dean is and since when did you say 'dude'?" he gave a skeptical look to Dean who was dangerously close to punching some sense into his brother.

"Okay, first things first, Sammy" he fought the urge to laugh at the confusion on Sam's face, "I'm not Cas." And now the confusion was mixed with shock. "Now, either you've got your wires crossed, in which case, I guess we must've all gotten pretty smashed at some point last night, which would explain why I'm in this get-up" he gestured to his current attire. "Or, and this better not be the case, but it's beginning to look like it could be..."

An eyebrow raise from Sam prompted the rest of Dean's theory, "Well, considering I remember going to bed sober last night, for the first time in weeks, I'm willing to bet there's something else going on here. So unless you're messing with me...bring me a mirror"

"What?" the younger Winchester was beyond confused at this point and struggling to keep up but after a pointed look from the man on the bed, he scrambled to the bathroom, his towel barely clinging to his hips as he ran, and came back barely a moment later with a small hand-held mirror with mysterious white stains on the base that Dean was sure to avoid as he took it from his brother's unsure, outstretched hand.

"Here goes nothing" he mumbled as he brought the mirror level with his face, his eyes downcast. He slowly lifted his gaze to his reflection, taking note of his backwards blue tie and white collar. He really had all the details down, huh?

Sam looked on with a bemused expression, wondering what the hell was happening.

Dean's gaze rose higher, taking in a rough stubbled chin, darker than his own and with a larger cleft than he was used to seeing in his reflection. His lips appeared larger and much more chapped than usual. His nose much straighter, yet still somewhat hooked downwards and between two deep set lines showing a distinct lack of sleep. And finally he took in his whole face, the bright blue eyes that peered back at him, his gaze much more cold and calculating than he ever remembered it being.

The dark, unruly hair that topped off his appearance was what finally had him whispering a "Well fuck" before he dropped the mirror, dimly registering the smash as it broke into a hundred pieces on the motel room floor.

Sam's startled cry was only slightly louder to his now muted senses.

He became aware of his own ragged, panicked breathing and his final thought before he felt the first warm drops fall to his cheeks was 'What the hell happened to Cas?"