As Promised, a timely update. After all my empty promises this feels nice.

I don't own Supernatural.

Dean let the water drip from his face while he stared at the drain. This was the reason he didn't want to get his hopes up. The feeling of failure and defeat was more than he could take. He leaned close to the mirror and studied his reflection. The sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, and the pale hue reminded him of something from his days watching television as a kid in motels.

"Skeletor," he finally decided on with a curt nod. That was it. Sam could definitely pass for He-man with the hair.

"I do not understand that reference."

Dean's eyes darted to the reflection of a man standing behind him. He whirled around, his breath catching. "What the HELL!" he tried to say, but all he could manage was a horrible cough that wracked his entire body. While he tried to gain control of himself, he tried to shake away what had to be a delusion.

In front of him, uncomfortably close in the small bathroom, was Castiel. His black hair was more disheveled compared to what Dean remembered from his dreams, but the trenchcoat and suit were impeccably similar down to the shoes. Cas waited patiently for Dean to calm down, not saying a word as Dean spit the gob of blood into his handkerchief.

"What the hell?" Dean repeated again.

Cas tilted his head and frowned. "You blocked me from your mind, so I had no choice but to come in this form."

Dean blinked a few more times as he tried to understand what exactly was going on. "Okay, but wh—how are you. . ." He gave up and waited, still not sure it was real.

"It is possible for me to exist in a more . . . temporal form. It is just easier to use dreams. Coming to earth takes time."

"What? Saint Peter gotta write you a hall pass?"

"Something like that."

"So why are you here now?"

"Because your brother is about to make a huge mistake."

"What do you—" Before Dean could finish his question, Cas had quickly closed the distance and touched two fingers to Dean's forehead like he had in the dreams.

A cold rush of icy wind stole the air around him. For a few eternal seconds, he couldn't breathe at all, just felt the rush of wind and a pressing force on all sides of his body. He didn't open his eyes until the world returned to normal and he could suck in a full breath. The lack of air set off another coughing fit. His lungs burned and he couldn't get enough oxygen. He bent over, struggling to get more air, but unable to fill his lungs between hacking coughs. His vision began to become fuzzy. Passing out seemed inevitable when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and from its touch spread a warmth that entered his chest and quickly calmed his chaotic lungs.

He looked up to see Cas standing over him, his hand gripping his shoulder. "You do that?"

"Yes. I'm aware that that may have not been the easiest experience in your condition, but time is of the essence." Cas released his shoulder and quickly strode toward a nearby roadway.

"You said something's happening to Sam?" Dean quickly caught up, feeling better than he had in a long time.

"Sam is doing something to himself. I believe it would be in your best interest to stop him." The pair emerged onto the roadway and Dean followed Cas's gaze to a crossroads. The Impala was parked a little ways away, its trunk open. Sam knelt in the middle of the road, scooping dirt back over a hole.

"Son of a bitch." Dean was sprinting toward his brother before he even saw the woman appear. Sam turned to her and she smiled broadly. "SAM!"

His brother whipped around in shock. "Dean?"

The cross-roads demon got a very annoyed look on her face as her eyes flashed red, but it suddenly changed to one of fear. In between blinks, she disappeared.

"What the hell, Sammy?" Dean reached Sam out of breath.

"I, I didn't. How did you get here?"

Dean ignored the question. "Why would you do something so stupid?"

"Dean—"

"No. No you listen to me. I know that you want to save me. And I don't want to die. But I don't want you to do anything reckless. I never wanted you to do anything like this."

"I just didn't see another option."

"No, Sam. Never anything like this." Dean's breathing and heart rate were picking up again. "I can't be the reason you end up like Mom. Or Dad. Or Jess."

"Dean," Sam moved his mouth but no words came out.

"Cas says it's time and I think he's right."

Sam frowned. "Cas?"

Dean looked back to point out the angel, but he was gone. "He was . . ." Dean shook his head. His head was beginning to spin again. The effects of the quick transportation reoccurring.

"Come on." Sam reached out and took Dean's arm. "We should get back." Worry crinkled his brow. "You're not looking too good."

"He was just here." He let Sam lead him back to the Impala where he sat heavily in the passenger's seat. The edges of his vision were blurring as he coughed and tried to suck in breaths. "I swear I'm not crazy," he managed.

"I know, I know. Just, calm down." As Sam drove away from the crossroads, away from what would have been a terrible fate, Dean tried in vain to find the angel in the country side.

Of course Sam would try something like that. Right? Right.

Like preciously stated, end is near. To Quote Jurassic Park: Hold onto your butts.

~abrokencastiel