Zachariah sighed and crossed his arms. In the brightness of the room cast by eloquent chandeliers, his shadow was stunted, just hovering beneath his feet as he paced the carpeted room slowly. Back and forth, back and forth. The whole room was painted with expensive wallpaper that curled with delicate figures. The floors were a lush red, softer than silk, and there was ornate furniture and mirrors everywhere. He was ignorant of the embellishments. The task at hand was far too unsettling to pay attention to minor details.
Before him were three cots, with three figures asleep in them. Frustrated, the angel turned his back and went to stare at his reflection in the mirror. Raphael and Gabriel appeared behind him in a flurry of wings, and looked to him eagerly. "How did it go, big guy?" Gabriel smirked. "They go right back to being hunters?"
"Not how I expected." Zachariah grumbled.
Raphael turned to look at them. "Did they choose wrong?" He asked in a low, rumbling voice. His dark skin shone in the lighting.
Zachariah turned and followed their eyes to the cots, which were drawn together some time during the sequence without outside forces acting on them. Dean was in the center, with his brother on one side and Castiel on the other. Dean had a handful of Sam's sleeve clenched in his fist protectively. Zachariah's eyes flickered over to look at the lost dark haired angel, and slid his gaze along the trench coat arm to his hand adjacent to the hunter's.
"No. They chose correctly." Zachariah grunted. He turned and vanished, quite moodily, and Gabriel approached the cots. His curiosity was insatiable - but Zachariah would show them what had happened when it was time. Hopefully sooner rather than later. He snapped his fingers, and they all vanished from the fancy set-up room.
A motel room appeared around them, the three figures lying unconscious in a king size bed like sleeping sardines. Outside, the Impala slept. Their bags were strewn across the floor. When they woke, they'd have no memory of what they'd dreamt together. It had been a test to make Dean realize he'd always go back to hunting, even if he was someone entirely different – even if he had never known the life as a child. But adding the others had been a last-minute choice. They'd probably wonder what wa up with the big bed, but he was sure their heads would fill in that memory gap.
Gabriel snapped a quick photo of the trio before Raphael grabbed him and they vanished, leaving Team Free Will to wake up on their own. It would be clearer in the picture, but no one had really looked close enough, and noticed Castiel's finger hooked around Dean's pinkie finger beneath the sleeve of his trench coat; and no one heard the quietest call of "Cassy," that slid passed Dean's lips into the silent room as he emerged from their collective dream.