"I did it!" Cameron's voice pants behind me.
Cas nods. "Well done." He nods at Dean and I. "See you on the other side."
Then he vanishes.
She's here. She's alive.
For just a second, I think she's hurt, but then it becomes obvious that it's not blood, but paint that creates the blotched streak on her face. She pants, her blonde hair making a halo of frizz around her head as she wipes her hands on the fronts of her jeans.
She's fine. I go to her, wrapping my arms around her and holding tight.
"I'm so glad you're not dead." I gasp.
She stiffens for a moment, then melts into me, hugging me back.
"I'm not dying that easily." she laughs breathlessly.
I hold her out at arms length.
"You're okay? Are you hurt?"
She smiles, shaking her head. "I'm fine. Don't worry."
She gets pulled in again, more tightly this time.
"Sam." Dean says gently. "We need to get you taken care of. You're a ticking time bomb of health disasters without us having to worry about you bleeding to death."
The shoulder agrees with Dean. The jagged cut makes a canyon from my shoulder, halfway down to my elbow. My torn shirt clings to the raw, open flesh, dyed a dizzying crimson.
"I'm fine, Dean." I argue.
Cameron joins me in examining my shoulder, chewing on her lip in concentration and...concern?
I bury my face in her hair, trying to breathe and convince myself that she's really here.
Not dead. Not hurt.
Also, the genius who just saved all our lives.
"Thank you." I whisper.
"Look, hate to break up your Disney moment." Dean coughs. "But Cas should be back any minute, and if anything went wrong, he'll have Metatron with him...and then he'll need all the help he can get."
Cameron slowly pulls away from me. "Right, let's hope whatever the heck I did doesn't mess up. I think?"
Dean nods. "Right. Come on, you two. He's probably going to show up in the lounge."