A/N: My profuse and sincerest apologies for this unanticipated hiatus. This picks up a few moments after the last scene.

Jody sat tense on her couch. The very same couch that Dean had been on just an hour earlier. Now, the weakened hunter was laid up in Claire's bedroom. Jody knew he was conscious because she heard the mumblings of conversation between him and Sam. She didn't intend on eavesdropping but it was hard to ignore the tense conversation. Admittedly, it was hard to make conclusions because she only heard Sam's side of things-Dean's speech was completely intelligible to her. The only real thing that Jody could make out was the sound of Dean's pained moans. She didn't have to wonder if they were attempts at speech or otherwise-she knew they were reactionary groans because her heart fluttered every time he made a noise; her heart was telling her what her brain didn't want to process. A particularly distressing noise emanated from the bedroom, and Sam's repetitious apologies echoed in the house. Unable to sit idle any longer, Jody headed to the kitchen to continue making food. If she couldn't help Dean, she could at least feed him. And if Dean didn't want to eat (it was hard for her to consider that he couldn't), then she could feed Sam.

Sam.

Jody couldn't begin to understand how hard this was on him. She saw it in his eyes and in his body language-he was tired and restless and above all, he was just sad. But despite any circumstances, they both needed food. People always needed food. And if there was nothing Jody could do to help, she could at least cook them enough meals to last a week. So that's what she resigned to doing. Emptying an entire bag of potatoes into a colander, she rinsed them and began boiling water. Mid-boil, an agonizing cry pierced through the muted noise of the house. Jody's instincts told her to run towards the vulnerable sound but she stopped herself before reaching the bedroom. They'll get me if they need me. She thought to herself. Dean doesn't want you there. Don't embarrass him. Even though her brain pushed for logic, her heart told her that Dean and Sam needed a mother right now. But she wasn't theirs. She never could be. And she didn't want to force herself into that role. So she buried her instincts, walked back to the kitchen, and began peeling potatoes as tears filled her eyes.

After the brief spell of weakness, Jody recovered and built back up her poker face. Hearing a shift in the floorboards, she turned to catch a glimpse of Sam emerging from the bedroom.

"Jody?"

She abandoned her cooking at once and met him in the living room.

"How's he doing?" She asked.

"Sorry to scare you like that. He's uhhh…" Sam couldn't find the right words. He didn't want to lie to Jody, but he wanted to lie to himself. "He's not great, Jody."

Sam's eyes were downcast at the admittance but he raised them for the second part of this statement. "But he's okay for the time being. Sorry that this all spiraled so fast. He had been doing really well…"

"Sam. I'm here for you, the both of you. Always."

"That means more than you know. Thank you."

"So...anything I can do?"

"First of all, you really don't have to be cooking all this f-"

"Sam." The mom-voice emerged from her organically and Sam smiled internally. "The least I can do is cook dinner, ok? Even if it's just for you. Someone needs to make sure you're taking care of yourself."

"Yeah, I guess." Sam said.

Jody, as much as she wanted to monologue about how much she loved him, and about how he needed to let someone help, she could see that it wasn't the time. Besides, Sam was already moving on.

"Do you have any ice packs? Really anything cold would be good."

"Becoming a hunter has meant that my first aid supplies are fully and expertly stocked if I do say so myself." Jody tried to inject levity into the moment but it fell flat. Sam nodded and raised his brows-as much positivity as he could muster. Opening the freezer, Jody removed several large ice packs of different shapes, sizes, and materials. Handing them to Sam, along with a few clean dish towels, she spoke.

"Do I wanna know?" Jody asked, referencing the ice he was accumulating.

"He's still pretty out of it... his hip and his knee have been bad. Think it was probably all the time in the car. I tried to stop a lot but I guess it was still-"

"Hey. None of that. You're doing the best you can. No one else would be doing any better."

"Jody." Sam's tone shifted to something even more serious. "I think I need to take Dean home. The change of routine...I thought it would be good for us but it's taking too much of a toll on his body."

Jody couldn't help smiling at the Winchester's manners. Leave it to Sam to apologize for something he had no business apologizing for.

"Sam, please tell me you're not worrying about me in all of this."

"Technically we did show up on your doorstep, practically kicked you out of your own house, and are now considering running away."

"And that's different from the way you've always made friends how, exactly?" Jody tacked a grin onto the end of her point and Sam rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah. I guess you're right."

"Seeing you both, for any amount of time, is always worth it. Do whatever you need to do."

"Feels like even that's getting harder and harder these days."

Sam's shoulders slumped in a rare moment of defeat but before Jody could properly console him there was a clanging from the bedroom. Shouting his brother's name, Sam dashed for the bedroom with Jody trailing behind. Dean was standing in the threshold of the room, a pained smile forcing its way onto his face. Before Sam could speak, Dean asserted his disposition.

" M' g'ud." I'm good

"Dean please sit back down."

"J'dy d' I l'k o'ky?" Jody, do I look okay?

Dean attempted to rope the Sheriff into the domestic dispute, but she wasn't picking sides that easily.

"Well you didn't look good an hour ago. Or twenty minutes ago…" Jody confessed

"Dean, would you just sit down? Please? You're giving me whiplash."

Hearing the sincerity in Sam's voice, Dean stumbled back to the bed. Jody looked on like an audience member-feeling awkward at spectating. Dean looked like he wanted to cry-not that Jody knew exactly what that looked like, but she could guess. He was clearly in pain, and Sam could obviously see that too. More obvious, however, was Dean's clear desire to keep up appearances. Jody's mere presence was forcing Dean into a false positivity and she couldn't have felt more guilty. Meanwhile, Sam was torn between too many different worlds and alliances. He wanted to take care of Dean the way he would in his own space and under privacy. Of course, Jody's presence was throwing a wrench in that. At the same time, she was lifting their spirits. Additionally, Sam wanted to respect Dean's desire to maintain normalcy, to stay strong. But Sam couldn't take care of him that way, and he wanted Dean to be more at ease; it was Jody, after all. Trying to find some kind of compromise, Sam acknowledged Jody's presence in a way that he hoped would relax Dean.

"Are the girls this difficult?"

"Seems like Dean's prepping you well for a life as a parent of a teenager."

"I'vve 'u'rned 't." I've earned it.

Dean said the comment jokingly but Sam knew how earnest the statement was. For how many years had Dean taken care of Sam? Dean had never really been a kid, never a teenager, and now, he was more mature than ever. But Dean couldn't handle being recognized for anything...he was so much more comfortable being the butt of the joke. Dean didn't like to take a compliment and he especially didn't want to be praised in front of Jody. Therefore, it was easiest and best for Sam to lovingly chastise Dean. And, if he was being honest, it was a little therapeutic...I mean, Dean could be a pain in the ass. Even if Sam never meant any real harm, it was fun to allow himself an outlet for the tension. Besides, Dean wanted nothing more than to resume a casual tone after all that had happened.

"If you promise to do what I say then I'll let us stay for dinner."

"F n'nyone 's g'ving 'rders, 's me. B'g br'er pr'iv'l'ge. S'des...who s'ys w' w'ldn't stay for d'nner? L'kkin f'rward to J'dy's f'ood all d'ay." If anyone's giving orders, it's me. Big brother privilege. Besides, why wouldn't we stay for dinner? Looking forward to Jody's food all day.

Dean's tone was just a tad adversarial but before things could further escalate, the ringing of Jody's phone broke the tension.

"I'll just...go get that." Jody's face scrunched into an intentional cringe and she left the brothers to their inevitable argument.

At her departure, Dean shot a disgruntled look to Sam.

"Dean, would you stop treating me like I'm the big-bad? I think it's better if we don't rush into anything."

"W'ha c'ld we p'ssb'ly b' r'shin in'to? L'st t'me I c'ecked we 'er ju'st v'sting a f'riend." What could we possibly be rushing into? Last time I checked we were just visiting a friend.

"You just really freaked me out, ok? You stopped breathing, Dean. And I had to just sit there-"

Sam didn't finish the thought but he pushed his hair away from his face. For the first time, Sam was considering the fact that maybe he was the one who didn't want to be here. This change of routine had him feeling like he was spiraling out of control and Dean's usually normal see-saw of moods and health was seeming, in this moment, insurmountable.

"'M g'ood n'ow. C'rss m' f'ngers a'nd p'nky p'rom'se an' e'vry'ing." I'm good now. Cross my fingers and pinky promise and everything.

Sam had no energy to continue the disagreement and gave into Dean's assurances. Jody had yet to re-appear but if it was because she was still on the phone, or because she was giving them privacy, Sam didn't know. The brothers maintained a silence for a bit, both recovering in their own way. It became clear that Jody was still, in fact, on the phone because both men heard broken pieces of the conversation. Perking up at the word 'missing,' it was clear that the two hunters were incapable of ignoring a mystery; they were hardwired to move towards danger.

"G'tta 'b 'nther o'ld g'y." Gotta be another old guy.

"Jody can take care of it." Sam attempted to persuade his brother with little success.

"M n't g'nna d' a'n'ing c'razy. L'ts 'ust s'tick 'round 'ittle 'onger." I'm not gonna do anything crazy. Let's just stick around a little longer

"Dean-"

The memory of Dean's blue, oxygen deprived face flashed before Sam and he couldn't bring himself to so easily agree to Dean's pleading about hunting and staying at Jody's. It was too much for Sam, not being at the bunker, not having their learned routines… Sam didn't know how to take care of Dean here, and Dean didn't seem as capable of taking care of himself here either. But the truth was, Sam was just scared. He was simply terrified. Terrified of things spiraling out of control-of Cas' warning coming to pass. But none of that was visible at the moment which made denying his brother that much harder. In reality, the image Sam saw was Dean, tired and desperate, staring up at his little brother with pleading eyes as if he were a child (the very child he never got to be) asking him not to take away his life. Dean was looking at Sam like he was John-silent green eyes staring at the looming authority, pleading not to move and not to start over. It made Sam sick. So when Dean opened his mouth to speak with shockingly clear articulation, Sam couldn't refuse his brother any longer.

"S'am. P'lea'se don't ma'ke me beg."

"Okay. We'll stay. But you have to let me look out for you. I don't wanna beg either."

"D'eal."

Saving them from an awkward post-argument silence, Jody lingered in the hallway and knocked gently on the open door. Sam gave a small smile and beckoned her inside.

"T's y'our h'ouse. D'nt h'fta 'ock." It's your house. Don't have to knock…

Dean also gave a small smile, which Jody returned.

"That was Sheriff Morano calling...they've had several strange disappearances from some nursing homes and elderly care facilities and he's wondering if we can spare anyone to lend a hand...you boys convinced it's this 'Adlet' thing?"

"'M s're. D'ad s'aid P'stor J'm h'nted 'ne b'ack in…" M' sure. Dad said Pastor Jim hunted one back in…

Dean paused for a moment, contemplating how to detangle the tiring jumble of sounds comprising 'nineteen-ninety five' The latter half was confusing enough by itself. He ended up trailing off and leaving his statement unfinished. Sam and Jody would have to take his word for it.

"Alright, but even so this was a long time ago. Do you remember anything important?" Sam questioned.

"L'ke h'w t' k'll 't?" Like how to kill it?

"I'll admit it's the most pressing question." Jody's casual, no-nonsense tone was oddly comforting.

"Th h'w t' k'ill it p'rt is a 'ittle f'ggy. I m'ght 've been...i'ndisp'sed at the t'me." The how- to-kill-it part is a little foggy. I might have been...indisposed at the time.

"That's really helpful, thanks so much for that." The younger brother pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to recharge his patience.

"Well if we're sure it's something monster related then I'm gonna have to head over and convince their department to let me take over. Probably be easier if I had a Fed on my side...you bring any gear?"

"A'lw'ays."

Sam made a nervous eye shift to Dean but before either could discuss Dean's role in the case, he made an executive decision for everyone.

"Y'ou an' S'm h'ead o'ver an' I'll l'ook into th' l're. See 'f I can't f'igure ou't how t' k'll it." You and Sam head over and I'll look into the lore. See if I can't figure out how to kill it.

"If it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me…" Jody was more than pleased with the plan but still looked to Sam for confirmation.

"Yeah, I mean...seems fine. You're good?" He nodded to his brother.

"M'fine. We g'ot H'eav'ns H'otline on-call a'nyway." I'm fine. We got Heaven's Hotline on-call anyway.

Burying any worries or trepidations, Sam agreed to the plan and headed out with Jody.

( ) ( ) ( )

Two hours was as long as Sam was really willing to leave Dean; in a rare stroke of good luck, the other department had gratefully and easily handed over all evidence and testimony to Jody and a very convincing Fed, "Agent McClane." All in all the trip was painless, albeit not very helpful. Five men between the ages of 75 and 95 had all wondered off, somehow undetected, from care facilities. No one had any leads or notions which was, in fact, a blessing; Sam wouldn't have been able to stand leaving Dean while he interviewed witnesses. On their way back to Jody's, Sam called Dean. The phone rang an uncomfortable number of times before he finally heard his brother's voice.

"Dean, you good?"

"M'f'ne. C'ldn't f'nd my ph'ne." I'm fine. Couldn't find my phone.

"It was in your jacket on the arm of the couch."

"Y's, S'm I 'kn'w 'at n'ow." Yes, Sam. I know that now.

Dean's sarcasm wasn't lost through the phone and Sam sighed at his brother's attitude, though the joke made his heart feel a little less heavy.

"Anything useful in the lore?"

"S'ms to t'ke 'em to s'me s'rt of c'ave. Ke'eps 'em 'live 'til the n'xt full m'oon. P'eople are k'nda like b-bait. B'ut I d'nt k'nw w'hat f'or." Seems to take them to some sort of cave. Keeps them alive until the next full moon. People are kind of like bait. But I don't know what for."

"Any updates on how to kill them?" Jody spoke only to Sam but he relayed the message to Dean over the phone.

"N'thin y'et. H-how d'id your v'is't go?" Nothing yet. How did your visit go?

"They were more than happy to let Jody take over."

"T'hey k-knew w'at was g'ood for 'em." They knew it was good for them.

Jody heard through the phone and gave a small chuckle, happy to know that in all the real ways, Dean was still Dean.

"Alright well we're thirty minutes out, we'll see you soon." Sam wasn't going to wait for Dean to confirm, but before he hung up he could hear that Dean was trying to get his attention. Adrenaline flooding through him, Sam was now worried. If something had really been wrong he would have called Cas, right? Or wouldn't have waited til the end of the conversation to bring it up? But it was still Dean and he knew that when it came to self-care, his brother was anything but predictable.

"S'm?"

"You ok? What's wrong?"

"M'fine. W-wh'res D-dizz'am?" I'm fine. Where's the Diazepam?

"Diazepam? Is it your arm? Are you cramping?"

" s' my l'eg. C'nt sit d'wn w'iout it s'eizin up." It's my leg. I can't sit down without it seizing up.

At the word seize, Sam was involuntarily startled but remembered that in context, Dean only meant it as a synonym for cramping. More concerning than his leg acting up, however, was that Dean had forgotten where his meds were. A simple act of forgetfulness, sure. And under usual circumstances Sam wouldn't have questioned it. But their lives were far from usual and these circumstances were far even from their norm. In truth, the only thought rattling in Sam's mind was that Cas' prediction was coming to fruition. Was forgetfulness the first sign of mental deterioration? Was this the beginning of Dean's descent? All that Sam could do was pray that it was not.

"The Diazepam's in the grey duffle-your black Dopp kit. And remember it's the taller bottle." Sam worked very hard to keep his voice even and calm.

"C'lm d'wn, S'm. I g'ot it." Calm down, Sam. I got it.

"We'll be back soon." Sam trepedaciously closed the phone and took a moment of silence to try and lessen his anxiety. Jody was unable to prevent her instincts from taking over.

"Sam?"

In response, the Winchester looked over at her with wide, innocent eyes; Jody couldn't help but grin at the puppy-like pout he had unconsciously formed.

"I know things have been...hard. Harder than usual, even by your standards. But is there something...more? Something you're keeping? And hey-if you don't wanna share that's none of my business, I'll butt out. But as a friend...if you need to talk...if you need to talk about yourself, about Dean."

Jody was painfully aware of the fact that the Winchester's social network was...limited...to say the least. Their closest confidant? An angel, no less. They'd lived their lives feeling and believing and trusting that having each other was enough. And she knew it was. But enough didn't always feel sufficient.

"I feel like I'm drowning."

Sam spoke quietly and Jody let the silence hang-giving him a moment to think and process; decide if he wanted to continue. Sam let his eyes wander and scrunch, he swallowed dryly and shook his head-all distinct signs that he was conversing with himself, privately. Eventually though, always the one needing to talk, Sam allowed himself to confide in Jody.

"I've been possessed before...and Dean too… Being trapped like that is...it's like sleepwalking, suffocating...passing out...drowning...You're stuck in this twilight zone of knowing something's wrong but not being able to grab onto anything-to pull yourself out. And I feel like that now. And Dean does too. But this time...this time it's not gonna-"

Sam stopped abruptly and Jody finished gently for him.

"End."

Sam nodded, defeated. Jody was about to respond but Sam took an intake of breath so she paused to see if he would continue. Despite his hesitancy, Sam spoke again.

"Cas uhhh-Cas looked at Dean. At the beginning I mean, after-after...M-michael left. He tried to heal him and we tried to-I mean we tried everything. Things were worse then, a lot worse than they are now. We've improved, all of us, we have. I can't convey to you how proud I am at how much Dean's gotten better; how proud I am of both of us. But part of me knows that Michael's not done. Whatever it was exactly that he did to Dean he did for a reason. And Cas...Cas doesn't know either, but he's worried. He's worried that Dean...that his mind isn't adjusting the same way his body is. That maybe one of these days it's all just gonna. . . catch up to him."

Sam desperately hoped that Jody understood his meaning without having to make him clarify. Sam couldn't really bring himself to think it, let alone speak it. Jody needed no explanation though-she was attuned to the distinct Winchester method of communication.

"Sam, I can't begin to imagine putting myself in your shoes. I really can't. I know hope isn't an easy thing to have-not when you have to live in the world we do and see the things we see. You can be afraid and angry and sad all you want. I know you've earned the right to that. But no matter what you meet in the future, no matter what barricades you encounter...Dean will always be your lighthouse, and you'll be his. Sam, as far as I'm concerned, that's all you'll ever need."

"Thanks, Jody. I mean it."

They ended the conversation with a nod and continued speedily making their way back to Jody's.

( ) ( ) ( )

"J'dy 'hat was t'he b'st m'eal I've h'ad 'n m'nths." Jody, that was the best meal I've had in months.

"Well fair's fair because you are by far the best company I've had in months. The girls are driving me up a wall and if I have to grade one more SAT practice test I think I'm going to petition that math be outlawed."

"Y'ou w'nt h've any 'ck ge'tting t'his one t' s'gn, t'hat sfor s-re." You wont have any luck getting this one to sign, that's for sure.

"I didn't know you were a Mathlete, Sam." Jody inquired teasingly and Sam turned just a twinge red.

"I am not a Mathlete. Just because I memorized my multiplication tables, unlike some people, does not mean I'm a math-geek."

"Look at him getting all defensive…" Jody appealed to Dean's sense of mockery as she gently poked fun at Sam. It was her way of letting the older man know that she was his confidant too-she was a safe person to talk to.

"Despite the fact that the hostess is making fun of me...I am more than happy to help her with the dishes." Sam stood from the table with a grin and began clearing his place at the table. Jody stood as well, doing the same.

"And you will hear no argument from me. Sorry, but I've been in mom-mode and I've been trained to jump at any and all offers of help."

As Sam and Jody cleared the table there was a split second where Dean felt he'd been forgotten; swept under the rug. What bothered him more than the brief moment of neglect, however, was the fact that part of him didn't mind. It was true he didn't want to clean up, and he was partially relieved not to be the subject of conversation. Dean knew that this moment was far from ideal, though. Sam was burned with even more than usual, and Dean was left feeling useless. But nonetheless, it was an improvement from the way things had been. Maybe that was enough. The water running and the clanging in the kitchen were calming sounds at this moment-the sounds of normalcy he wasn't accustomed to anymore. A full belly, Sam's laughter, and a friend's company...it was shaping up to be the best day Dean had seen in a long while. Jody came back into the dining room then, clearing a bowl of empty mashed potatoes.

"Th'nks 'gain J'dy. T'dys b'n 'm'zing." Thanks again, Jody. Today's been amazing.

"Except for the hunt with no leads, I agree." She grinned and picked up his plate, having waited for him to have done it himself if he'd wanted.

"Y' th're was'n m'ch I c'ld d'ig 'p. M'be S'm'll h'v b'ttr l'k."

Dean knew the sentence had come out much more garbled than he'd intended and it surprised even him a little bit. It didn't feel particularly cumbersome to get through, and he wasn't feeling particularly tired. Jody met his gaze, silently telling him what he already knew: she didn't understand. Concentrating on making the right sounds, Dean tried for a shorter, simpler phrase.

"M g'ood."

Jody smiled, still awkward but relieved that the moment had passed. She made her way back to the kitchen where Sam must have still been washing dishes. Dean wanted to get up, walk around...in truth, he actually wanted to walk outside. The medication had helped his cramping, but his bad leg was still stiff and sore. His knee was tight and standing would require balance he knew he wouldn't have. He didn't want to call Sam, to have to ask for help, but he didn't want to sit at the table like a doll at a child's tea party. Luckily, he was spared when Sam came back into the dining room, but Jody remained in the kitchen.

"Hey-you ok? Are you feeling sick after eating?" Sam was casual but concerned by his brother's stillness.

"L'gs s' s'f. C'nt g' p'."

Again, Dean's words were unintelligible and he couldn't figure out why everything was coming out sounding so wrong. Frustration and impatience evident on his face, Sam knew that his brother realized the sentence's lack of coherence.

"You're not feeling dizzy? Or confused?" Sam made sure it was only the speech that was being impeded. In response, Dean shook his head and a small relief flooded Sam.

"G'tu'p."

Only a slight improvement. But enough that Sam's practiced ears could figure it out.

Sam moved to the chair, and Dean raised the elbow of his good arm.

"C'r'f'l ff m' 'ee."

Again, Sam paused. Acting out of frustration, Dean grunted in an irritated tone but it was quiet enough that Jody wasn't alerted.

"It's ok, Dean. Don't get worked up about it." Sam responded to the moment with as little care as was possible, but worry was difficult to manage.

"We'll go slowly just in case. On three. One, Two, Three."

Sam pulled Dean upwards from the chair as cautiously as he was able. Dean maintained solid footing and stayed upright with relative ease. Once he was stable on his feet, he gently patted Sam's shoulder as both an apology, and a signal that he was free to step away. His knee, however, was uncomfortable with the change in position; he needed to walk around. Doing laps in Jody's living room wasn't the most ideal solution. As much as Dean needed this trip, he was also beginning to miss the bunker. He could tell that Sam, too, was struggling to adjust both on his own behalf, and Dean's. They'd gotten used to their spaces and places and strategies and as much as change was needed to stay sane, change was the thing also driving them further from sanity. Dean's brief existential moment was a gross overreaction, but he kept the notion on a back-burner. Attempting yet again to speak, Dean gestured to Sam.

"M 'gn- …" Dean made the beginning of his phrase but at its sound, he stopped and closed his eyes. A sudden wave of emotion drowned him, and he was shaken by his nearly unshakable need to cry. It had been only a few minutes of setback. Only a few moments in silence. Only a few moments without speech. In reality, it was nothing. He'd spent weeks unable to communicate well in the beginning-before he and Sam had learned to adapt to Dean's capabilities. After all this time, though, after all this work and effort and pain, being reduced to babble destroyed Dean. It made him a prisoner-again. Locked in his own head with the shadows and echoes of Michael. He was bound by two irreconcilable truths: he couldn't talk to Sam, and he refused to be trapped in silence. Floating to the surface of his memory was his most recent meeting with Cas-how the angel had been hesitant to share what he'd seen in the hunter's mind. In this brief but debilitating setback, Cas' earlier reaction led Dean to believe the worst. In a desperate need to speak with the angel, Dean extended his thoughts to his angel in prayer.

Cas, I hope you're listening. Sam and I are at Jody's. Everyone's safe. Don't come down here breaking down her door or anything. I need to talk to you. I can't um… I need you to come because talking's kinda being a bitch of an activity right about now. Please? Don't come in the house, though. I'll come out to you.

Sam still looked on with concern and sympathy. Dean knew what his brother was looking for-Dean to sign back some kind of affirmation, information...anything. In those beginning weeks, Sam demanded they learn a few signs for emergencies even if Dean was immensely reluctant to admit that sometimes he wouldn't have a voice. Modifying a few gestures for the sake of only really having one good hand, Sam used what he had remembered from classes at Stanford. Recalling the movements neither had used in a while, Dean flatneed his palm and extended his thumb from his chest. Fine. Then, noting Sam's shoulder slump in relief, Dean formed a 'C' shape and extended his elbow outwards. It was a version of the sign for 'angel' but instead of flapping wings, a letter stood in its place. Cas. Then, Dean used his head to gesture to the door and trusted that his genius brother could manage to put the information together. He was fine, and Cas was outside (hopefully). Easily putting two and two together, Sam nodded.

"I'll tell Jody you stepped out for a minute." And so Sam left his brother to talk with the angel.

Outside, Cas was standing awkwardly in the driveway, patiently waiting. At Dean's arrival, he approached and offered an arm to assist him down the stairs.

"I heard you and Sam might have found a case?" The angel wasn't sure what Dean was after, but he figured that beginning with small talk couldn't hurt.

Dean nodded, and made a formal prayer so that Cas could hear his thoughts.

Cas, I'm not sure if I have to pray for you to hear me so I'm just goin with that for now. Thanks for coming. I needed to get away for a minute.

"If you direct your thoughts towards me I can hear them-informal prayers will work fine. I'm pretty well tuned to your channel." Cas nudged Dean lightly, attempting to lighten the mood.

I can't stand not being able to talk. That's what ~he did. He kept me quiet and pathetic and trapped and I can't do that again. Not like this.

"If it's any consolation- I can hear you perfectly. I realize that doesn't do you and Sam any good, but to me...you sound like you."

Is it gonna be like this forever?

"I don't understand."

Dean took a few lumbering steps away and leaned against the side of the Impala, his back to Cas.

You looked in my head. And something scared you. I didn't ask because I wasn't really sure I wanted to know. But now? I mean- - It's been hell. Real hell. Just like the pit and just like with Michael. It looks a little different but it feels the same. And I don't see an end this time. I know that Sam and I are better than we were, but I still don't feel alive. I know I'm not supposed to feel that way, but I can't help it.

And I can't say that to him.

I'm eating him alive, Cas. It's too much on his shoulders. And the only thing I've ever really felt good about...the only thing in my whole life I've ever really been proud of was the way he turned out. That I did right by Sam. I'm not sure that's true anymore. I need to know what this is all worth, Cas. I'm not you-I don't have the whole picture. I don't mean to put you in this position, I really don't, but because I trust you...I need you to tell me what you saw inside my head. Where am I headed?

The angel appeared in front of Dean, blue eyes wide and mourning.

"Dean. When I was commanded to raise you from Hell, your soul was shredded. Unrecognizable and seemingly unsalvageable. Do you want to know what your soul looks like now?" Cas paused momentarily but it was clear the question was meant to be unanswered. "It's scarred, yes. And patchy. It's a little wrinkled; in places it's frayed; but it is far from torn. Your mind works the same way. Michael left craters...scales unbalanced. Whether or not you know it, Dean Winchester, every moment you're fighting to restore what he shattered. Sometimes your mind wavers. It becomes tired. It tries to heal itself by lowering the standard, instead of matching the old one. That's why you have bad days. But it's also why you also have good ones."

You're saying….you're saying that I could get worse? That my mind's just gonna give up one day?

"I'm saying you have to keep fighting. I'm telling you this battle isn't lost or won by fate."

I can't control this, Cas! You think that I want to be like this? That I'm not trying hard enough? I'm in pain every day. And every day I have to have my little brother take care of me so I don't accidentally kill myself falling down. Or overdosing. Or suffocating like I almost did a few hours ago. Don't you dare stand there and tell me this is all on me. I wouldn't do this to myself if I had any choice, and I sure as hell wouldn't do it to Sam.

Dean's bad arm vibrated against his chest due to the sudden adrenaline rush. Castiel stood motionless-a marble pillar.

"If you truly think that's what I mean, then it's already over. The Dean I know is already gone."

The burst of anger from the hunter came unexpectedly and uncontrollably-a biological response to hurt that he'd never been able to shake. Looking at the forlorn and betrayed man across from him, however, Dean's harshness was softened. Opening his mouth, a sentence formed.

"C' a' s. 'M s'rry."

To be sure the message was received, he prayed for good measure.

Cas...I'm sorry

Taking a single step towards Dean, the angel cocked his head and took a moment to think.

"I've never regretted saving you, Dean. You should believe the same about yourself."

Thank you. For coming. For everything.

"I'm always listening."

You might try not sounding like Big Brother but yes, thank you for the sentiment

"I don't have any brothers notably larger in stature or age than I am."

It's from 1984, Cas. 'Big Brother is watching' ?

"I wasn't on Earth in 1984. At least not for any substantial amount of time."

Forget it. Are you headed back upstairs?

"For the time being, yes. It seems to be where I'm most needed."

Okay well you go play referee up there and Sam and I'll hang in as best we can. Does-you told him. About me, didn't you? That you saw I could get worse. He's been on edge. I mean, more than he usually is.

"I didn't do it to hurt you. I was afraid that-I was afraid if you knew you had some degree of control that it would spiral...you'd throw it further out of balance. But you had a right to know from the beginning. I'm sorry."

You were probably right. I was in a bad spot. You couldn't risk me oh I don't know, say getting angry and freaking out...trashing everything in my head even worse than it is now?

"Your words, not mine."

And Dean smiled. A small grin, really. Not much more than a slight curve of his lips. But a smile nonetheless.

Oh! Cas. Is there um…

Cas anticipated his question just as Sam would have and happily extended his hand towards Dean's head.

"Your speech is messy because you're overstimulated. Please try and rest, Dean."

Cas did the 'Professor X,' as Dean sometimes called it, and used his grace to improve whatever he could. It was hardly sufficient, but it was all they had.

"T'nks." Dean responded. It wasn't as clear as he would have liked, but he was far from complaint.

With that, the angel transcended time and space, disappearing from Dean's gaze. From inside the house, he heard a loud smash, followed by Jody rattling off a string of curses and Sam's muted offers to help with something.

Dean wasn't rushing back inside anytime soon.

( ) ( ) ( )

Having waited for the mild chaos inside to have settled, Dean was starting to get cold. He had been outside for nearly half an hour and had left his jacket inside. Not surprisingly, Dean hadn't thought everything through. Staring at him was yet another object he now considered an obstacle. Jody's front stoop. Getting down the few porch steps to come outside had been one thing. Getting up them to go back in was another. What a long day it had already been. What a long. fucking. day. His seizure had been awful; his leg screwed up badly enough to be jacked for the rest of the week. His speech was shot to hell, and of course, looming over his head was Cas' overwhelming message. All this. And yet-it had been a great day, too. Seeing Jody lifted Dean's spirits in ways he couldn't have possibly predicted; he'd eaten dinner at a real table, with company... In short, there was no way he was gonna spoil the end of the night by having to call Sam and ask him to help him up the stairs. Buckling down and committing with Cas' words of motivation still ringing in his ears, Dean approached the steps. The reflection of himself from the diner flashed briefly in his mind, eliciting a quiet string of curses and a slew of defensive remarks. Hell would freeze over before Dean Winchester pitied himself. Leaning his weight onto the side of his good arm, he balanced on the side of the house-fingers barely touching. Lifting his bad leg, his knee seized up in complaint but it only strengthened his resolve. Far from graceful, he managed to make it to the door and couldn't help the grin of smug satisfaction he now wore. That'll show you, he thought. And while he realized that there was, in fact, no one to prove wrong, it still felt good. Back inside, he heard the television and made his way inside to see Sam and Jody on the couch watching Little House.

"R' y'ou s'rsly m'king J'dy w'ch L'ttle H'se on th' P'ra'rie?" Are you seriously making Jody watch Little House on the Prairie?

Sam looked over in relative shock at his brother's sudden arrival but quickly recovered and moved into the tone of banter. Sam was clearly pleased to see that Dean was back to being comprehensible but he let nothing show-truly a paragon of love and support.

"You can't help falling for the charm of Charles Ingalls...if I met a man like that we'd be at city hall that afternoon." Jody was being nothing but playful and seemed to mimic the respectful distance that Sam had extended towards Dean. She was there to help, but not to intervene.

"S'm wou'd m'rry M'ary. Ha' m'rry M'ry." Sam would marry Mary. Ha. Marry Mary.

"And you, jerkface? Nellie?" Sam retorted.

"Nel'lie's a b'itssch. L'ra, 'f c'orse. W'hts h'r hus'band n'me? M'any? Nellie's a bitch. Laura of course. What's her husband's name? Manny?

"Manly." Jody snapped and pointed to Dean in a silly moment of pride.

"S'ee? Al'ready h've s'omet'hin in c'mmon" See? Already have something in common.

Sam yawned before he had another comeback and Dean looked at him disapprovingly.

"G' b'ed, S'm. Get s'me s'leep." Go to bed, Sam. Get some sleep.

Standing, Sam made mutters of agreement and wrapped up talking to Jody about the case. She and Sam would do a few interviews if they could find anyone helpful and Sam would make a few calls to some hunters-see if they had any info on an Adlet. Cognizant that they were running out of time, Sam knew that if the three of them couldn't do something fast, then it would be too late. Too tired to think, though, Sam headed to bed. Passing Dean, he checked in.

"How was Cas?" Sam's voice had an undertone of worry but Dean told him what he'd really wanted to know.

"He t'ld me. T'hat I c'oud g't w'rse. B't M' t'ryin." He told me. That I could get worse. But I'm trying…

"I know you are." Sam smiled and clapped Dean on the shoulder-it was rare that they touch these days without the pretense of caregiving.

"You need anything you just-" Sam began but Dean's murder eyes silenced him.

"S'm…"

"Going to bed. I'm shutting up and going to bed."

Sam departed and Dean poked his head back in on Jody, still watching TV. He moved to sit but his knee clenched up in all the wrong ways, making his leg buckle slightly. Perking up, Jody's hands were at the ready but waiting for permission.

"M' g'ood. J'st g'ttin o' ld." I'm good. Just getting old. Dean forced a smile and Jody wordlessly held out a hand which Dean silently and gratefully took. Easing onto the couch, Jody reached for the remote, looking to change the channel.

"Y'ou c'n k'eep 't on…" You can keep it on…

Dean pathetically extended the comment and Jody grinned as the episode played on.

"Ne'llie r'eally 's a b'itssch t'ho." Nellie really is a bitch, though.

And so they sat, one broken hunter and his friend, watching Little House on the Prairie and awaiting a tomorrow that would bring with it what it may.

A/N: Again, I am deeply sorry about the wait for this. There is still more to come and I promise I'm starting the next chapter ASAP. The hunt will heat up and Dean will have to find ways of dealing...action is on the rise! Thank you so much to all my readers for your patience, support and words of encouragement. With the finale looming, I am that much more thankful for the spn family.

Side note: sometimes my hyphens turn into single dashes when I upload...apologies for that.