In honor of tonight's episode, here is another chapter. We own nothing recognizable.
Dean cocked his head, "You what?"
"The same dreams. Our greatest hits. But you were never there. And the voice . . . I thought it was you," Sam trailed off.
"It's all the same, Dean," he said.
Dean looked to Bobby.
"Did you know about this?"
Bobby looked the boys from across his desk and shrugged.
"I know a lot of things."
Dean stood up from his chair, kicking it behind him, "Damn it, Bobby. How many other things do you know about that you aren't telling me?"
"Well, I'm not one for gossip, so sorry for not calling you the moment I heard the news that Sam was having funny dreams with a creepy voice."
Sam stood up and walked over to Dean, who stood on the threshold of the kitchen.
"Look, I know we should've told you sooner," Sam began to apologize.
"Yes, Sam, you should've. This isn't just about us. Someone could've gotten hurt. We don't know what has been following us."
"Well, let's consider ourselves lucky that no has gotten hurt yet—."
"You don't know that," Dean interrupted.
Sam ignored him and continued, "And we should just try to figure what has been going on before things get any worse."
"Sam's right," Bobby interjected, "What else about these dreams? This voice you hear, what does it say?"
"Weird stuff like 'I am here' and 'I am coming,'" Sam replied.
"And 'I will not be stopped,'" Dean added.
"Well, that's nice and vague," Bobby said bitterly, pulling books from the stacks on and around his desk and from the shelf behind it.
"Hey, if there was more we would tell you," Dean retorted.
"Doesn't make my job any easier."
"Well, I'm sorry," Dean bit back sarcastically.
"Does this voice know your names?"
Sam and Dean looked to each other and nodded. Bobby flipped through one of the books on his desk.
"Based on that, my guess would be demon, angel, or spirit."
Dean grabbed his beer off a nearby table, taking a hefty swig, "Well, that narrows it down."
"Hey, I'm just trying to help."
All of a sudden, realization flashed across Bobby's face, "But only angels can occupy dreams, right?"
"Demons can, too," Sam pointed out, "Remember Yellow-Eyes. He occupied my dreams."
"Yeah, but playing a game of hide-and-seek in your brain ain't exactly a demon's style," Dean countered, "They're a little more upfront about their threats."
"So, what? An angel, then?" Bobby said, figuring it to be the only conclusion.
"Well, Cas and Anna occupied mine," Dean offered.
"Do you think Cas would know if some rogue angel was messing with our dreams and memories?" Sam asked, intrigued.
"It's worth a shot," Dean admitted.
"Do you still have his number?" Sam asked.
"Whose?"
"Castiel's," Sam replied, as if the answer were obvious.
"Well, no, Sam, unless you think dialing 1-800-HEAVEN would help," Dean placed his hands together, palm to palm, "This is how you get in touch with Cas now."
"Will he show up?"
Dean shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe."
Dean looked at his hands skeptically.
"Y'know, Sam, I'm not really the praying type. Do you want to give it a shot?"
"I'll try but I doubt anyone will listen to me. I've been praying but no one has been answering."
"Why?"
"Well, I was Lucifer's vessel."
"Good point," Dean said, awkwardly placing his hands back together, as if doing so made him uncomfortable. He closed his eyes.
"Cas?" he began, cracking one eye open, then closing it again, "Cas, its Dean. But, I bet you know that. Um, we could really use your help right now. I think there's something after me . . . after us."
Within moments, they heard the sound of fluttering wings and wind from nowhere blew through room.
Castiel stood in the room. Dean hadn't seen him in nearly a year. He hadn't changed much, the same rumpled brown hair, the same trench coat and suit. Only his expression had changed. He seemed infinitely more tired.
"What?"
"Nice to see you, too, Cas," Dean replied, offended by his brusque greeting.
"I've been busy, Dean. What do you want?"
Cas didn't seem fazed by Sam's presence.
"Surprised to see anyone, Cas?" Dean asked.
Cas looked around the room.
"Not really."
Dean glared at Sam.
"Did everyone know about this but me?"
"No, just a select few," Cas replied, "Now, what do you want?"
"We just had a few questions," Sam began to explain.
"About?"
"Dean and I, we've been having . . . we've been having these dreams. We think there is something after us, maybe an angel. Is someone trying to contact us? Do you know any angels that have gone MIA?" Sam asked.
Cas turned to Sam and eyed him critically, "It's possible."
"How possible?" Dean asked, growing tired of Cas's perpetual ambiguity.
"Very possible. Do you know what state Heaven is in right now? Do you know the magnitude of the mess I've had to clean up?"
"Whoa, don't go blaming us. We were just the pawns," Dean said defensively.
"I'm not blaming you. And yes, you were just pawns."
"That aside, do you think an angel could be after us?" Sam said, trying to diffuse the tension.
"Not to harm you. I can't think of any reason for an angel in Heaven to resent either one of you."
"Then why?" Dean quickly rejoined.
"I don't know."
Cas was gone.
"You know, I missed him," Dean said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Well, what do we do now?" Sam asked, at a loss for answers.
Bobby, who had remained silent for the last few minutes, finally spoke up.
"Well, my suggestion would be: go to sleep."
"This hardly the time for a nap, Bobby," Dean said.
"I don't mean a nap, ya idjit. You say this thing talks to you in your dreams, right?"
"Right?" The boys replied in unison.
"And when do you dream?"
The boys looked sheepishly to the floor. Bobby only rolled his eyes.
"Come on," he said impatiently, as he began to usher them up the stairs.
"Wait, Bobby," Sam protested, "Don't you think it would be safer to try this in the panic room?"
"It might. But it also might mean that whatever has been following you won't be able to get into your heads."
Dean contemplated this for a moment, "That might not be so bad. I could do with a good night's sleep."
Sam rolled his eyes and ascended the stairs, Bobby and Dean close behind.
Bobby led them into his bedroom. Inside stood a king sized bed that looked like it hadn't been slept in for days.
"Um, Bobby," Sam said, eying the solitary bed, "There is one bed in here."
"Yeah?"
"Well, where is Dean supposed to sleep?"
Dean looked at Sam, a mischievous grin on his face, "On the bed, Sammy. Little brother gets the floor."
Sam scoffed and crossed his arms defiantly across his chest.
"Just drop it, you two. Stop acting like girls and go to sleep."
Bobby left the boys in the room. Dean walked in and started to shut the curtains, blocking out the intrusive sun.
"Are you sure we should do this, Dean?" Sam asked cautiously, "Is it safe?"
Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled off his shoes.
"What other choice do we have, Sam?"
Sam, with a helpless look, conceded and moved to the other side of the bed. He kicked off his shoes and swung his legs onto the bed so he was lying next to Dean.
They looked to each other out of the corners of their eyes. With a groan, they both rolled away from the other, facing their respective walls.
They lay in silence for several minutes.
"Dean?" Sam asked tentatively.
"Yeah?
"Are you tired?"
"Yeah."
The sun blared down from above, slowly tracing its way across a cloudless sky. Sam and Dean stood on opposites ends of a bridge of wood and metal framework running over a river.
"SAM?" Dean called out, taking a step onto the wooden planks.
"DEAN?" Sam yelled back.
Quickly, they walked across and met at the center.
"So, what? Now we are sharing dreams?" Dean asked, frustrated.
"I guess. Whatever this thing is, it wants to talk to both of us."
Dean looked around, "Where the hell are we?"
Sam scanned the scene around them. Recognition crossed his face and a smile crept upon his lips.
"What?"
"Dude, I know where we are."
"You wanna share with the class, Sam?"
Sam looked back to Dean, "You really don't know?"
Dean shook his head.
"Jericho? The Woman in White? Any of this ringing a bell?"
Dean gave Sam a blank look.
"Our first case together, Dean, by ourselves. Like six years ago. You came and got me from Stanford," Sam explained.
The same look of recognition dawned on Dean's face. A heavy silence fell upon them. For a moment, they forgot they were even in a dream and suddenly felt the magnitude of this place. All that had happened before and everything else that had happened after.