"Dean! We need to talk about this." Sam said as calm as he could.

"About what! There's nothing to talk about!" Dean yelled. "I just a bad dream, that's all."

"Well maybe it's more then that! There's no way that could have only been a dream." Sam replied.

"Yea, and why not!" Dean said taking a swig of his beer.

Sam looked Dean up and down, and could tell he wanted to drop the subject. Bobby, and Cas were in the other room, and knew it wouldn't be a good idea to blurt what he was fixing to say aloud, even though they already knew, Dean wouldn't be any happier if he did. Sam sighed and came closer to Dean so Bobby, and Cas couldn't hear him.

"You kept calling for Cas." Sam whispered.

Everything was quite for a few minutes as Dean wasn't sure what to say next.

Did that really happen? Why the hell would I call for him? Is he lying? He thought.

But there was no reason for Sam to lie. After a long pause, Dean set his beer to the side and went to work on some of the cars that Bobby needed fixed; it was how he got out most of his anger and were he did most of his thinking.

Dean worked for hours in the hot sun. Sweat gleamed on his chest as he had previously taken off his shirt to do his best to cool off and forget about the day. But nothing could take his mind away from his earlier conversation with Sam. If it was true, why was he calling for Cas. No one had seen him for five months, and now he decides to show up? He didn't understand. Nowadays nothing seemed to make much sense anymore.

He continued to work on various cars until it was 8:30 P.M., and finally he decided it was time to go in and get some rest. He walked up to his room right after passing Bobby, Sam, and Cas, and of course with no word being said. He through his Jacket to the side, and laid on the old worn out bed without taking his shoes off, and dozed off into an uneasy, restless sleep.

Dean ran past a long line of cars, that lead to a broken shed that was falling apart.

"Cas!" He shouted. "Cas!"

He proceeded to yell for Cas, while he look under and inside the cars and later found himself to be at Bobby's house. Curiously he slowly walked inside. Drops of blood littered the floor as they lead him into Bobby's so called "office" where a strange man lied slumped over on the floor. Dean stood there not moving any further as a deep, raspy voice lingered on, from the other side of the house.

"Cas, I'm not playing this game with you." It said. "I'm sorry."

The man had now shown his face. He stood at the entrance way between the living room and the kitchen. Small in size, wearing black leather work boots, and a dirty green flannel shirt. Though one thing stood out, out of all the things. It was the long leather band necklace, with a gold pendant attached at the end. As he quickly studied the man carefully, he came to the horrific conclusion that he was staring at himself. Baffled by this he tried to get his attention, but when no response came he realized no one could hear him.

The "other" Dean stood at the entrance way staring at Cas as he pulled out a silver angel sword from behind his back.

"Sorry." He said again, with grief written across his face.

Gradually he came upon Cas as he slowly raised the sword with both of his hands, as it took strength to kill his friend.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" The real Dean yelled even though he couldn't hear him. "Cas get up!"

In one downward motion the "Other Dean" pushed the angel sword roughly through Castiel's back, as he kept his hands tightly wrapped around the sword and fell to his knees.

"No!" The real Dean yelled. And suddenly he awoke to find himself back in his bed at Bobby's house and not in the living room, watching himself kill Cas.

Fed up with the strange dreams he had, Dean put on his plain black shirt, and marched down stairs to find Cas quietly standing in the kitchen. Once he had eyed Cas he walked over to him in anger, and as hard as he could he swung his fist, hitting him on the side of his face.

To any normal person, this punch would have broken their jaw, but to Cas, his head merely turned ninety degrees, as Dean gently rubbed his sore hand.

"Dean." Cas began the say.

"Don't you dare say another word! I just wanna know why you're here!" Dean shouted quietly. "I keep having these dreams, and they're always about you! Why!"

Cas didn't know anything about Dean's dreams; all he knew was that Dean had called for him the previous night. "You called for me Dean."

"No! No I didn't!"

"Dean! You called my name. It might have only been the abbreviation in which you have given my name, but you called my name so many times it was impossible for me to ignore, so I came to see what you so desperately wanted!"

"Well, you can just go! I don't need you, and I have nothing more to say to you! All you do is make my life a living hell, and all I want is for you to go!"

And with nothing more being shared between them, Cas left into thin air, leaving Dean to himself.