Sam was able to calm him down (he barely remembered how) and ask him what happened. He made sure to keep his arm around him or his hand on his just so he could be sure he was there.
"What the Hell happened?" He asked. Dean shook his head, still staring vacantly into the air.
"I haven't got a clue. Th-there was this sound, like this ringing, and then something came around the corner and…" He didn't really have to elaborate.
Sam sighed, looking away. "Well, I'm sure we'll get you seeing again, there's tons of things you can do."
"There better be," Dean whined. "Aw man, so many racks I never got to see," Sam chuckled.
"Dude, I can't believe you actually-" He stopped. Dean swallowed. The hand on top of his had been lifted, as though Sam had vanished.
"Sam?!" He asked in panic. He felt nothing, but his voice broke out of the darkness.
"Who are you?" He heard Sam say, and the cocking of a gun beside him.
"Sammy, what's happening?!" He asked. His heart pounded in his ears and in his chest, as he pushed himself up further against the wall.
"Don't come any closer!" Sam said. Dean gasped as the gun went off. Twice. Three times. He felt like burying himself in the ground. He hadn't been this afraid in a long time, but it was different without his vision. "Sam, who's here?!"
"The gun's not working!" Sam said, a little concerned as well.
"Wh-what do you mean it's not working?!" He said a little too loud.
"Back off! Don't touch Dean!" Sam's voice came. The gun fired two more times, and Dean pressed up further to the wall. "No!" Sam said.
Dean nearly had a heart attack when he found two cold hands on his face. Oh god, this was the end. Were these the hands of Death? He gasped loudly, waiting for the inevitable. He squeezed his eyes shut.
"Open your eyes."
He heard the voice break softly out of the air. But it wasn't Sam's. It was lower. Rougher. Slowly, he opened his eyes. He panted with relief, as colors and shapes formed around him, the clouds washing out of his eyes like dye. His eyes looked around the room, looking for Sam's face, but he saw another, just in front of his.
It was a man with a stern and serious face, and brownish-black hair spiking slightly upward. He smiled softly, seeing Dean was okay. He withdrew only one of his hands from his face, but kept the other affectionately there. "Are you alright?" He asked. "My sincerest apologies, I thought perhaps you would be one of the people with the ability to view my true form."
Dean's guard came back up in an instant. He smacked the man's hand away. He wanted to look brave, but instantly he pressed himself into the corner. "Get the fuck away from me!" He said lowly.
"I'm sorry you probably don't recognize this vessel." He said, looking down slightly. "But it's me."
"Y-you?" Dean questioned carefully. He didn't know what or who this was, so he'd have to be careful.
"Castiel."
Their heads turned as they both heard the cocking of a gun. Sam's face was grave and his lips were pursed. "This gun may not affect you normally but I will shoot you in the head until you don't have a damn mouth to talk with." He threatened. The man looked for a moment, before he leaned back and stood back up. Dean scrambled up, still shaking violently.
"There is no need to threaten." Castiel said gently. But Sam didn't put down the gun. He slowly stood up, fury in his eyes.
"What are you?" He demanded.
"I am an angel."
"No, I mean what are you really?!"
"I… am telling the truth." He said, slightly confused. "You can ask Dean."
"And speaking of which, what the Hell is up with you and Dean?!"
"I am usually happy to answer all of your questions." He said with a soft smile. "But Dean and I really need to talk." he stepped up to Sam, who backed away, but he was cornered against the wall.
"What?!" He demanded. "No!" He fired the gun into his gut three times, but nothing changed. Castiel touched him gingerly on the forehead, and Sam's eyes shut. He crumpled limply against the floor.
"Sam!" Dean called, but he didn't move. He looked up at Cas. "What the Hell did you do to him?!"
"He's alive." Cas responded calmly.
"But is he alright?!"
"He will be, in a few hours." He said. "Anyway, you wanted to see me in person." The trench-coated man spread out his arms for a moment, looking down at himself and then back up at Dean. "Here I am."
For a moment Dean didn't speak. He just backed away against the wall. His body seemed to be fighting itself, his usual confident posture trying to show even though he wanted to curl up into a ball and scream, his angered expression being taken over by a horrified one. He had just been blinded. The salt rounds didn't even slow him down. He had just taken out his moose-brother with a touch to the forehead. So he just looked at the man, shaking violently and trying to look dangerous. Cas smiled tenderly.
"There's nothing to be afraid of, Dean," He said. "It's me." Dean didn't answer, afraid to say anything. He knew that Cas could kill him. Well, he didn't know, but he was pretty sure. Cas stepped forward, and Dean used everything within him not to run away. He touched him gently on the face again.
"I'm so glad I finally get to have a face to face with you," He said affectionately. "I quite honestly never thought I would. Watching you grow up was the most fascinating part of my life for a long time."
Dean pushed his hand away, but still didn't speak. A look of hurt passed over Castiel's eyes. "Dean, come on, it's me."
"Don't act like we're friends," He warned softly, trying not to let his voice shake. "You were my imaginary friend when I was seven when nobody else would be my friend." He reminded him steadily. Cas turned his head slightly, looking heartbroken.
"Dean," He objected, trying to step closer.
"G-get the Hell away from me!" He said, stepping back. He snuck out from behind the wall, relieved to get into the open space of the dungeon. He had a clear way to the door. Good.
"Dean, I have been watching over you since I met you," He said, anger growing in his voice.
"And who asked you to do that?" He demanded. "No one!" He interrupted, before Cas could answer. "So why do it, I would have been fine without you! You were my imaginary friend once, now fuck off!"
Cas scowled, fury flickering in his blue eyes. Damn ingrate, he thought. I never had to care about you. I never even had to answer that first letter.
"I did it because I cared about you." He said softly.
"And who asked you to do that?! Why in Heaven or Hell would you do that?!" He cried. Cas sneered with rage, looking dangerously up at Dean.
"And who exactly… asked you to care about Sam?" He asked slowly. Dean raised his eyebrows, and he didn't speak. He didn't have any answer, but he knew the answer the angel was getting across. He honestly cared about him? And not on an order? No. Impossible.
"Precisely." Castiel said. "But that's not why I'm here. I'm here to help you regain your soul."
"Why?"
Cas huffed and looked away, clearly trying not to get angry. "Why is it always 'why' with you?! I'm here to help you!"
"Last time I let someone help me without me knowing why, they used me! And the time before that, and the time before that! So why?!"
"I already told you," He said, keeping his voice softer.
"What is it then?"
"I cared about you, Dean."
Dean crossed his arms. "I can't help but notice that switched to past tense." Cas looked away, unable to explain.
"All for the better," Dean replied. "So, can you help me or not?"
"And after all this why would I?" He asked coldly.
"Because apparently you 'care about me'." He scoffed. Cas huffed. He was right, no way would he leave Dean to die. Yet still, even he didn't know the reason.
"I may be able to go into Hell and reclaim it." He said. "But it'll be difficult. I'll have to wait… at least 24 hours before I can do it. So I can regain my power." He explained. He looked up at Dean. "Do you want me to tell Sam?"
"How do you know I haven't-" Dean began.
"Watching over you, remember?" He reminded him. Dean scoffed.
"Still incredibly creepy." He said. "But no, it's gotta be me. I'll wake Sam. He… can be woken, right?" He asked nervously. Cas nodded.
"Of course," He said. Dean shot him a glance, making sure he wasn't moving, before rushing over to his brother Sam. He kneeled down beside him and shook his shoulders. "Sammy!" He said. "Wake up!"
"Mn… what?" Sam mumbled, pulling his eyes open. Dean's face was grave, and that always worried him. "What is it?" He asked worriedly.
"Sam, we…" He looked away. "We have a lot to talk about."
"You sold your soul!" Sam cried as soon as Dean had finished his explanation. He threw his arms in the air and paced furiously back and forth.
"You were dead, Sammy!" Dean stated back.
"Yeah, I know, but now so are you, in a year!" He rebutted.
"Yeah, well, that's where Cas comes in." He responded. "He says he can help."
"Oh, so he's just Cas now?! We've switched to casual names?! He's using us, Dean!"
"And how could you possibly know that?!"
"Because it happened to us last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, and the time before-"
"Okay, enough, I get it!" Dean said, waving his hands for him to stop. "Look, what other option do we have?"
Sam shook his head, biting his lip. "You could have not lied to me in the first place." He said lowly. He turned, storming off into the other room.
"Sam, come on!" Dean cried after him, but he already shut the door behind him. He was gone. "Dammit!" Dean cried as he kicked the wall. He huffed and turned to see Castiel right beside him.
"What do you want?!" He hissed.
"Nothing." he replied.
"Look, I know you care about me, alright!?" he said angrily. "But I barely know you! I was basically your prayer pen pal 23 years ago, I don't remember!" His voice softened, as he abandoned the point of his speech. "Did anyone else ever-"
"No." Cas said. "One person found it, once, but they soon suspected it was cursed and exorcised then threw it away. I had to pull a lot of strings to get it here." He said.
"You couldn't just have come here yourself?" He asked. Cas shook his head.
"I didn't have a vessel, at the time. I was afraid I would-"
"Blind me?" Cas looked away guiltily, but Dean was smirking softly. He was fine now. It didn't bother him. Cas smiled back.
Dean looked down. "So, why me?"
Cas shrugged. "You found the box."
"But why watch over me and answer for so long afterward?" Cas didn't answer, just looked up at him, as Dean continued. "And why, of all things, would you plummet down into Hell to get back the deed to my damned soul, literally?!"
Cas only looked away, unable to answer. He winced as Dean spoke again, growing more passionate than angry, but they looked like the same thing.
"Well?!" He said.
"I don't know, Dean." He said. "But I don't know what I'd do if you died."
"Well, that's obvious," He replied casually. "You'd move on, go back to whatever you were doing as if nothing ever happened. You're an angel, you have no reason to get hung up over someone like me."
Castiel didn't answer. But when he looked at Dean, he portrayed a message that didn't need any words. Don't be so sure, his pitying eyes said. Then, with a half-second flap of his wings, he was gone, and Dean was left alone.