This chapter has been edited.

Sam was happy. Although all the Gods but Kali had been killed, as well as Gabriel (this time for real), they had found out how to lock Lucifer back in his cage, and Dean had been acting like himself. All in all, things were looking up. Sam smiled to himself and began bobbing his head to the song on the radio "Carry on my Wayward Son" by Kansas. Dean sat beside him in the driver's seat, expression blank as he stared at the open road. Sam didn't think too much of it, after all, he'd prefer his brother adamantly watch the road rather than not. With a few more chords, Carry on my Wayward Son was over, and a soft guitar melody began streaming out of the car speakers. Sam didn't recognize the tune right away, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean become more animated. Curious, he looked to his left and saw his brother mouthing the lyrics to the song on the radio which he recognized to be "All Out of Love" by Air Supply. Upon noticing his audience, Dean stopped promptly and Sam looked away, feeling bewildered. He watched out of the corner of his eye as his brother continued mouthing along to the song as he thought no one was watching.

As Sam leaned over to shut off the radio he slowly felt his relief at having Dean back to being himself dissipate.

The rest of the car ride back to Bobby's had been uneventful, Sam lost in his thoughts, Dean doing nothing but stare at the road. Bobby's would be where they would stay until they had somewhere to investigate that may be linked with Pestilence. When they got back to the familiar run-down house, they both went inside, Dean went directly to the guest room and Sam lingered behind in order to inform Bobby of what they had discovered about Lucifer and the horsemen rings.

"We have War and Famine, so all that's left is Pestilence and Death. So keep an ear out for anything that might point to either one, okay?" Sam said finishing up. The old hunter nodded his head thoughtfully.

"You wanna tell me what's been goin' on with Dean?" He asked after a few minutes of silence. Sam felt the color drain from his face as he tried to decide whether or not to tell Bobby the truth. Bobby saw his mental dilemma and decided to help in the process. "I want the truth Sam. I may be old but I ain't dumb, and ain't nothin' can surprise me anymore."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." Sam said with an uncomfortable chuckle. He took a deep breath and told Bobby the whole story.

"And he was mouthing along with it whenever he thought I wasn't looking, so I turned it off." Sam finished one hour and eight beers later -four for each of them, he had told Bobby everything that he knew, from beginning to end, but he hadn't gotten into details during the more adult parts. Bobby, for his part, sat in his chair solemnly, waiting for Sam to finish his story. Once he did, he sat there for a few moments, mulling over the new information.

"Why'd you tell him to give Dean space?"

Sam sputtered, taken aback. Of all the things he had just told the old hunter, that's what he has questions about? "I-I thought I was helping, y'know?" He shrugged. "I figured it would be the best for Dean."

"Would it be the best for Dean, or the best for you?"

Sam contemplated this for a second; he knew that he had had the best of intentions when he had told the angel to leave Dean alone. Or at least, he thought he had.

"I think you need to think about this long and hard, Sam." And with that, Bobby rolled into the kitchen a faint "idgits" trailing behind him, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts. After a few minutes of chasing his own tail, Sam stood and padded down the short hallway to the guest room. He stopped and gently rapped on the door.
"Dean?"

"Go 'way Sam." Dean's voice was muffled through the door. Sam opened the door anyway, thankful it wasn't locked. Once he could see clearly inside the room, his heart sank. Dean sat on the bed, back to the door, an empty bottle of Jack Daniel's sitting on the night stand beside him, a half full glass in his hand.

"I told you to leave me alone." Dean said roughly. He didn't turn to face him. Sam stood in the doorway, unsure if he should go in. He finally decided against it and leaned up against the doorjamb.

"A lot's been going on lately Dean-"

"No."

"I just think you need to-"

"No."

"If you would just-!"

"No Sam." Finally, Dean turned around to face Sam, his liquor sloshing on the bed along the way. His cheeks and ears were bright red, his eyes bloodshot, he was wobbling slightly from where he sat, glaring up at Sam. "You want to sit around and braid hair? Should I put on 'Earth Angel' so we can hug and cry?" He drank deeply and turned back around. His shoulders slumped forward and he sighed. "Forget it."

"I heard you, at the Hotel. You were yelling in your sleep, begging Cas not to go." He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. "You gotta talk about it Dean." There was a long pause where the only sound was that of Dean's steady breathing and the clock ticking on the wall.

"He's gone Sam, I can't change that. Just leave me alone."

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but shook his head instead, and left the room without another word.

Over the next three days Dean only came out of the guest room to do one of three things, either eat, go to the restroom, or shower, and any conversation struck up by either Sam or Bobby was ended quickly when Dean would walk away with an indifferent grunt.

"Have you heard anything about where Pestilence is?" Sam asked after Dean had disappeared again.

"Not since the last time you asked."

"I just think I need to get Dean out on a hunt. He needs something to get his mind off Cas."

"I suppose."

"He's become this shell of himself. It's like he's dead inside Bobby." That statement brought Sam's mind reeling back to before everything happened. His eyes widened as he remembered the dream he had had seemingly eons ago. The dream where Cas kills Dean. In that moment, it all came back to him, and he felt that he understood it a little better. "Cas is killing him." Sam whispered.

"What?" Sam looked up at Bobby, eyes still wide.

"You remember that dream I told you about where Cas killed Dean?"

"Yeah, so?"

"I thought that it was supposed to mean that Cas was going to physically hurt Dean, I thought it meant that Dean was in direct danger." Sam began to pace all around the living room, using his arms to emphasize his points. He stopped and looked Bobby directly in the eye. "It meant that Cas would kill Dean, but not in the way that I thought. Cas doesn't physically kill Dean, but he does mentally, emotionally."

"But I thought you weren't having those – visions - anymore." Bobby responded.

"I'm not, that must be why I only saw metaphors, not exactly what would happen. Don't you see Bobby?"

The old hunter was about to respond when his phone rang. Sam had begun pacing again, his train of thought going so fast he had to struggle to catch up. He didn't hear what Bobby was saying to the person on the other line. The click of the phone signaled that the conversation was over.

"Well Sam," Bobby began, pulling him back into reality. "Sounds like a bad case of swine flu in West Nevada."

"Pestilence?"

"It's worth investigating."

"Dean!" Sam yelled excitedly. "We got a case! Come on!" After a few moments Dean emerged from the guest room, pulled on his jacket and headed out the door, Sam in tow. They got in the car, started it, and left for Nevada.