Chapter 4: Wool Gathering

Muscles tensed in preparation for a very likely fight, Dean only let his eyelids relax so he could go to sleep, just like he had been very used to doing and practiced in purgatory. But when he opened his eyes in the reality Castiel's unconscious state took him, it was nothing like afterlife dimension they had been trapped in earlier that year. It was a bright room that resembled both an office and a dentist's surgery, with Castiel strapped into the chair so drills could enter his eyes and forehead at the hands of a suited woman, continuously repeating to Castiel how he wasn't supposed to remember any of this, but follow the orders of the angel that was his superior, her. Dean's presence was unexpected and therefore unnoticed, with him standing at the other side of the desk the woman had her back to. Although the setting was rather surprising, Castiel was getting tortured here which could only elicit one kind of response from the hunter and that was to free his friend first, ask questions later. As the aggressor appeared to be an angel, he used the surprise effect to dislodge the blade from the woman's belt and plunge it deep till the hilt into the angel's back, dream or not.

Tormentor incapacitated and out the way, Dean frowned at the drill still sticking out from Castiel's forehead, but there was no choice in the matter other than yanking it out as soon as possible. "Cas, you ok?" The human discarded the offending tool and patted the angel's cheek, hoping for a reaction. "Is this thing a memory or a dream?"

"Dean?" Castiel grabbed for the human's shirt firmly, "what are you doing here?"

"I was going to join you in your nightmare, remember?" Dean took to freeing Castiel from his straps.

The trenchcoated jumped up so quickly the momentum made him knock into Dean, but as the angel was too lightheaded and swaying to stay on his two legs, the hunter's arms that shot out to balance them both remained around his frame. "Dean, we must leave immediately," Castiel claimed.

"Well, as nightmares go, this isn't so bad now that I'm here," Dean encouraged, "not to mention I'm not exactly sure how we could get Sam to wake us up. We would obviously not look too distressed for that at the moment. Mind you Cas, dreaming angels up as dicks, I'm glad we agree on that."

"That is precisely why we must leave. Someone might come in," Castiel held his head, clearly still in pain.

"It's just a dream Cas, you're ok, you hear me?" Dean tried to pull the angel's hands away from his face.

"No Dean, this is no dream, no nightmare. This is heaven and this is actually happening and I think..I think I have been here in this position before, many times. But this time our bodies are sleeping in the motel, yet my grace is here and your soul is here too as you insisted we should be bound together while I'm unconscious. And I believe you have just killed the general of our forth legion, Naomi. She pulled me out of purgatory for this, to make me an obedient soldier again. We shall leave as soon as I'm strong enough to transport us both."

"What are you saying? That bitch, you're sure she was real?"

"This is really heaven, I can feel it," Castiel fisted Dean's shirt tight and the next moment the human felt somebody shaking him awake by the shoulders. He opened his eyes to find himself looking at a bewildered Sam. "What on earth had happened man?" His brother raved, "you were barely asleep for five minutes and then you suddenly disappeared out of your bed and onto Cas', which could've been all cute and cuddly if at the same time Cas didn't throw up on himself so I thought it would be most sensible to wake you both up, but Cas isn't responding!"

Dean instinctually tried to push himself away from the smelly mess that was Castiel, but then his protective streak took over and he leaned back to grab hold of his angel, "help me put him into recovery so he doesn't choke!"

"Choke? But he's an angel, Dean," Sam commented, doing as he was asked by his brother all the same, "what happened?" He flinched, not really wanting to know if purgatory was indeed that bad that it made the angel gag repeatedly.

"As far as I can understand from what Cas was saying, we weren't in a dream. Some headquarters bitch had direct hold on his brain from the moment he was upside. We had to make a hasty exit and he wasn't up for it. That's why he's green around the gills I think," Dean explained, concerned eyes still watching the angel.

"Are you sure he's back with us then? If he's still unconscious?" Sam worried too.

"Yes, yes, I killed the nasty bitch," Dean assured him, but wished Cas would wake up and quash his apprehensions, "he should be okay now Sammy."

"For good?" Sam tried to make sure.

"Yes, thank you, I should be," Castiel himself answered, sitting up stiffly as he noticed the state of his shirt. The next moment all the mess was gone.

"Hey, hey, you shouldn't waste precious mojo on dry cleaning," Dean admonished.

"But that's the situation Dean, that I'm perfectly fine," Castiel marvelled himself, "my head is clear, my strength is returning, I feel wholly in control. I may be very close to full power. And while I might need some time and space to think about what Naomi wanted from me, the hold I discovered she had on me is completely gone. I'm here, Dean and at your service."

Dean pulled back, gulping, noting the almost snicker on his brother's face. "Okay, okay, I should get back to my bed and you should maybe get your clothes back on," he suggested forcefully, loping from the awkward moment, "if you're sure there are no more angel emergencies, I should like to get some proper dreams."

"Of course Dean, I'll just watch some television without the sound on," Castiel offered to stay out the way.

"He's at your service," Sam whispered, grinning, mock punching his brother on the shoulder as he passed him on his way to the kitchenette.

The End.