Yay! We're finally seeing Sam, Dean, and Skye again! Oh, and someone else might make an appearance, too!

Wednesday, October 9th, 2008

Canonsburg, Pennsylvania

It was painful. Every second that ticked by allowed even more dread to build up inside him. He'd seen this scene a thousand times now and could probably recite every line by heart if asked. What was going to happen was inevitable, but that didn't stop Dean from trying his damnedest to change it.

He was once again face-to-face with Castiel. Despite the tears in the angel's eyes, his gaze remained solely focused on Dean as he gave his grand speech. Dean listened as Cas explained how Dean changed him; taught him about love and caring. Dean knew where this was going and wanted so desperately to break forward and stop Cas from doing whatever it was he was trying to do, but he couldn't. It was like being strapped into a roller-coaster. He could see all the twists and turns he was going to take but had absolutely no way of controlling his course. That's why he avoided roller-coasters like the plague – airplanes, too, for that matter.

There was no avoiding this, though. Not as the scene was about to reach it's emotional apex. Cas' face was a mixture of elation and despair as he spoke the next words.

"You changed me, Dean," he said, and Dean tried as hard as he possibly could not to let the next words slip out of his mouth.

"Why does this sound like a goodbye?" Each word stung in his throat like a strike from a sharp dagger. He knew he was condemning Castiel to a horrible fate, even if he wasn't entirely sure what that fate was. Still, he was forced along the track, completely out of control.

"Because it is."

Dean's stomach tensed. The roller-coaster had reached the peak of the highest drop. Three words would be all it would take to send it teetering over the edge. In his mind, Dean begged Cas not to say it, but it was already too late.

"I love you."

There was the drop. The world felt like it was crashing around Dean. Despite the fact that he did not know the angel in the slightest, those words impacted him hard every time he heard them.

"Don't do this, Cas."

No matter whether this was a memory or a premonition of the future, Cas had fallen in love with him, and Dean was being forced to watch as he failed him. It didn't matter if he felt anything in return. Cas was going to die for him and he wasn't going to do anything to stop him. If Hell didn't already make Dean feel like the worst person in the world, this certainly did.

Castiel reached out, placing a bloody hand on Dean's shoulder. So badly did Dean want to grab him by the arm and pull him to safety, but he couldn't. He wasn't allowed to.

"Cas," he tried to say, but any further words were halted by the sorrowful look on the angel's face.

"Goodbye, Dean."

He was then roughly pushed to the side. Dean felt himself hit the ground, but he hardly paid attention to his surroundings. His eyes were locked on Castiel as tendrils of black ooze wrapped around the angel and swallowed him whole. It happened so fast, Dean could have sworn that if he blinked, he would have missed it. He didn't blink, though. His eyes were wide open as he watched what he could only assume to be the end of Cas's life.

Tears burned in his eyes and streamed down his face. The black ooze subsided and left behind no trace. If anyone walked in on the scene, they wouldn't know that something terrible had happened. Cas was just gone.

Vaguely Dean felt some sense of autonomy return to him. He could get up if he wanted to. He could move or leave the room, perhaps even get help. However, he did none of that. Given the choice, Dean's natural response was to sit up and start sobbing, mourning a loss that he couldn't truly understand. Particularly, why it impacted him so hard.

Dean opened his eyes to find himself in a darkened room. The walls were such a stark shade of white that not even the darkness of night could dampen. He was lying down in a soft bed, much nicer than the usual motel fare. Curious, he turned around and found that he wasn't alone. A woman with long blonde hair laid facing away from him; unclothed save for the layers of blankets wrapped around her. The haze of sleep and the anxiety from the nightmare meant that it took a minute for Dean to remember her name.

Jamie something, right…? Jamie Swann? He doubted he got the last name right, but he felt certain that her first name was Jamie. That's all he needed to get through the morning, so he didn't have to worry that much.

Turning to face away again, Dean looked around and tried to get a sense of what time it was. There was a window along the wall he was facing and the blinds were cracked enough for him to see the night sky. That was as fortunate as he got, though. He couldn't tell anything from that other than it was dark. He wouldn't be able to get a true sense of the time until the sun inevitably started to rise. Something told him he was going to be waiting awhile.

Lying back to rest his head on the pillow, Dean felt a wet spot against his cheek. He touched his face thinking he must have drooled in his sleep, but when he tried to wipe the moisture away, he found that it wasn't drool. Tears were sliding down his cheeks. He was actually crying.

If he had been alone, Dean would have let out a loud and nasty string of curses. He couldn't handle this. He hated that dream. (Memory? Premonition? Was there even a term for whatever this was besides living nightmare?) It had been haunting him ever since his first encounters with Castiel. He didn't have nightmares about it every night. Dreams of his torment in Hell seemed to have the primetime slot. However, he did re-experience this scene a few times. Twice in the hospital and once after the home invasion at Bobby's. He thought Cas might be causing them, but…

Dean sighed and slammed his head back down against the pillow, paying no mind to the wet spot. He hadn't seen Cas in almost two weeks. If he was only supposed to have that flashback/dream whenever he encountered Cas, why was he having it now?

Maybe because you just de-hymenated yourself?

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will the ridiculous thought away. Just because Cas said he loved him… No, the two things couldn't possibly be related at all. Maybe Jamie touched the handprint while they were having sex. After all, he did have flashbacks when he touched it himself and when Pamela did during the séance. Yeah, that explained it. He didn't have to look that deeply into it. It wasn't like he'd let himself fall for a guy anyway.

Realizing his thoughts were starting to stray into even more dangerous territory, Dean did his best to try to think of anything else. While he was successful in not triggering another sexuality crisis, he still couldn't forget the dream. He couldn't forget about the look in Cas' eyes as he professed his love for him. He could still hear himself begging Cas not to do whatever he was doing. His bones still ached with the urge to lunge for Cas and get him to safety. Every time he tried to close his eyes and drift back to sleep, the entire scene hit him again like an electric shock. Dean wasn't sure how he managed not to go insane from it all.

Dean still wasn't sure how long he kept bouncing back and forth from tentative sleep to alarming wakefulness. He just knew that he eventually saw golden rays of light start to slip through the window, signaling sunrise. He could finally keep a slow, vague sense of time. However, since he wasn't getting sleep that seemed more to mock and torment him rather than come as any kind of help or comfort.

It was around seven-thirty in the morning when Jamie started to stir. Not entirely wanting to talk to her, Dean shut his eyes and feigned sleep. He felt her touch his shoulder – the one without the handprint – before getting up and walking out of the room. He heard her make herself breakfast, shower, and dry her hair. Dean didn't move or open his eyes. Slowly, he felt his body relax. His breathing started to even out and his mind was just beginning to drift off when…

"Hey," a soft, feminine voice prompted as a hand jostled his shoulder. "Good morning, sleepyhead."

As much as he didn't want to, Dean had to pry open his eyes. He rolled over to face her and found Jamie kneeling on the other side of the bed, smiling down at him. She wore only a pink bathrobe, but her hair and makeup were already done stylishly and impeccably. It was almost as if she'd forgotten that he already knew what she looked like as a hot, sweaty mess underneath him. Nonetheless, Dean was alert enough to at least smile like he was pleased to see her.

"Hey," he said. "What time is it?"

"Half-past eight," Jamie said. "You told me to wake you up so you and your brother could get a head start out."

"Right, right," Dean said, rubbing the sleep from his face. "You didn't have to wake me up this early, though."

"Early?" Jamie questioned with a laugh. "I let you sleep in."

Tell my nightmares that.

"Long night," Dean supplied instead. "Really tired me out."

Jamie's smile turned bittersweet as she reached for his hand.

"I wanted to thank you again," she said, gently rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. "If it wasn't for you and your brother, I probably wouldn't have known what was going on until it was too late."

"Don't worry," Dean said. "You more than thanked me last night." That brightened her smile a bit and elicited a small laugh.

"I guess," Jamie said. "Still, thank you."

"All part of the job," Dean threw on one of his charming smiles.

"And is this," she gestured between herself and Dean. "All part of the job, too?"

"Eh," he said, trying to gauge what her attitude might be. "It's not something that happens every time…"

"But I'm not the first?" Well, she was the first to try out his newly remade body, but Dean really want to get into the specifics on that. Besides, as much as he appreciated it, most women would probably see that as a cheap consolation prize.

Regardless, Dean nodded in answer to her question. Jamie just half-shrugged and ran a hand across his shoulder – the unscarred one.

"I get it," she said. "I didn't come into this thinking it was gonna be anything more than a one-time thing."

"It doesn't have to be one-time." Jamie rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Dean," she said. "Let's not kid ourselves and make promises we can't keep."

"I'm not talking promises," he said. "I'm talking about right now." He gave her a sly smile which she returned.

"What happened to needing to hit the road first thing?" Jamie asked.

"Like I said, you woke me up early."

Gently, Dean tugged on her arm and Jamie took the cue to lean down and give him a kiss. Although, it didn't stay just a kiss. Before too long Dean was pushing the bathrobe off her shoulders and Jamie was positioning herself to take him for a ride. They may have taken a little too much time enjoying each other's company, but it's not like it even really mattered.

Dean idly tapped his fingers against the steering wheel while he waited for Sam and Skye to finish loading the last of their stuff into the trunk. Skye had been sick and insisted on staying back at the motel while he and Sam hunted the "vampire." That had been all fine and good with the brothers. They were already iffy about letting her go head-to-head with a vampire and falling sick just sealed the deal. So, they agreed that she could stay back.

The trade-off – as Dean called it – was that she be in charge of packing all their stuff and loading it to and from the car. Skye didn't have a problem with it (meaning she didn't complain about it more than usual) but Sam seemed to. When Dean tried to stop him from helping her out, Sam flat-out ignored him and went to grab some of the heavier bags. He wasn't sure what his problem was. It wasn't like he was asking her to do anything unnecessarily cruel or unfair.

Regardless, that left Dean with time alone to think, however brief it may be. That was not good. If there was anything Dean had been learning in the past few weeks, it was that he couldn't be alone with his thoughts.

Jamie had done more than enough to distract him from his anxious spiral earlier – he was almost certain that he wouldn't have been alert enough to drive if she hadn't – but that hadn't lasted long. After they had their fun and Dean had gotten himself together, it was time for them to head out. He had Sam and Skye to get back to after all. By that point he'd felt that he had started to move away from being anxious and was moving towards something more akin to okay.

That was until he stepped outside of Jamie's apartment. As soon as he did, the unyielding sense of dread returned in full-force. The same one that made him feel like he was out of control of his own body. Just like in his dream, Dean tried to fight against what was compelling him forward but found himself powerless. Jamie reached out and took his hand, and he had no choice but to let himself be pulled along.

It was just the same as everything else had been since they started this hunt. Jamie took him back to the Oktoberfest grounds where he and Sam had agreed to meet up. He gave Jamie a kiss goodbye that probably would've been more enjoyable if he didn't feel like someone was perpetually holding a gun to his head and traded banter with Sam about movies as they walked out. It wasn't until Sam mentioned going back to the motel to pick up Skye that the bubble finally burst and Dean felt like he could breathe again.

Sam must have noticed something was up but didn't say anything. Instead, he kept staring imploringly at him as if that would make Dean spontaneously spill his guts. He thought about saying something just to get Sam to stop, but he knew he couldn't. Not when he didn't know what was going on himself.

Now he had a moment to contemplate what that might be. Why did he have that dream about Cas? Was it real? Was it a warning? Why did he keep having these moments of dread where he lacked control? What did Skye have to do with it? What about the manuscript.

What about?

What about?

What about?

If Skye hadn't opened the back door, Dean was pretty sure he would've started bashing his head against the steering wheel.

"Thanks for the help," she said to him as she climbed in the seat.

"Your job, you agreed to it," he pointed out, though he didn't imbue much annoyance in his tone. In fact, he was grateful. She'd stopped him from spiraling, however inadvertently.

"Yeah, but you still didn't help even though Sam did," she said. "Isn't there some kind of bro-code or chivalry thing that says that's a dick move?"

"No such thing as a 'bro-code,'" Dean said. "And haven't you heard? Chivalry died a long time ago."

"Still, it would've been nice," Skye said as Sam got in the car.

"Alright, that's everything," he said. "The room taken care of?"

"Already returned the keys." The Impala was on, so all Dean needed to do was shift her into drive. "Let's get out of here." Dean smiled to himself as the car started to move. Getting his baby on the road never failed to lift his spirits, even if only a tiny bit.

"So, how did the vampire hunt go?" Skye asked. "Anything I need to add to the notes you gave me?"

"Uh, actually, it wasn't a vampire," Sam said. Through the mirror, Dean could see Skye frown.

"What was it then?"

"Have we told you about shapeshifters yet?" Sam asked.

"Shapeshifters? No. What are they?" Dean opened his mouth to make a smart remark, but luckily Skye was faster. "I mean other than what's in the name."

"Well, uh, there isn't much outside the name," Sam said. "They're humans who can change their appearance to look like anyone."

"Like I said, got that," Skye said. "What else?"

"Uh, that's about it…"

"Seriously?" Skye questioned. "That can't be all you know."

"We know that when they change they shed their skins like a snake and leave behind this nasty goo stuff." That got a small "ew!" out of Skye but nothing further than that, much to Dean's disappointment.

"So what, this guy shape-shifted into a vampire and started sucking people's blood?" she asked. "That's just sick."

"Actually, he didn't suck anyone's blood," Sam said. "He just stabbed his victims in the neck toa make it look like a stereotypical vampire bite."

"But he turned himself into a vampire," Skye stressed. "Wouldn't the point of that be to have the fangs to bite people?"

"Yeah, this guy wasn't aiming to be the real deal," Sam said. "He was more of a Bela Lugosi parody."

"Who?" Dean had to do a double take in the rearview mirror just to make sure that she wasn't screwing with him, but Skye's confusion appeared genuine.

"Bela Lugosi?" he said. "The original Dracula? Fake fangs, cape with a giant collar, terrible Russian accent?" Skye stopped him before he could go further.

"I know who Dracula is," she said. "I'm not that culturally deprived."

"Bela Lugosi was the guy who originally played him," Sam explained. "This guy was inspired by classic monster movies. Wanted to recreate them in real life, only in his story the monster wins."

"And he killed people over it?" Skye's voice carried genuine shock. "Why?"

"Because he's a monster," Dean said. "Plain and simple. It's what they do."

"I don't believe that," Skye stated.

"Of course you don't," Dean said. "Because you've never seen a real monster up close."

"I've seen demons," Skye pointed out. "And ghosts."

"Not the same thing," Dean said. "Ghosts and demons used to be human. Some monsters were at one point, but for the most part the animalistic part of their brains have taken over and it comes down to nothing but eat, kill, and survive. Often times the only way to put an end to that is by killing them." Glancing at the girl through the rearview mirror, Dean saw that Skye's complexion had gone a full shade paler. "Think you can handle that?"

"I mean…" Skye said after a moment of hesitancy. "I'm gonna have to, right?"

"You sure about that?" Dean asked, glancing at her through the mirror again. "Because you're not looking like it."

"Dean…"

"I'm fine with it," Skye said, cutting off Sam's warning tone. "It's not even really that, it's just… I can't really imagine how something can look human but kill recklessly like a wild animal. It just doesn't make sense in my head."

"Trust us," Sam said. "It will once you've seen it for real."

"You would've seen if for real if you were on the last hunt," Dean pointed out. "By the way, how're you feeling? You still sick?"

Skye huffed in frustration. In the mirror, Dean could see that she'd crossed her arms and slumped to the side with her head pressed against the window.

"I haven't gotten sick yet," she said. "And it's really starting to piss me off." Dean furrowed his brow.

"What do you mean you 'haven't gotten sick yet?'" he said. "How can you know when you're gonna get sick?" Skye lifted her head and raised an eyebrow.

"You're not serious." Something in his expression must have communicated that he was, as her tone became sharper. "Oh my God, you are! Shit, how do you not know this? Haven't you ever lived with a woman?"

"Pretty sure the last time he lived with a woman, he was four," Sam answered for him.

"I don't get this," Dean said. "What are you talking about?"

"Did you at least go to health class?" Skye asked instead. "Or have a talk with your dad or something?"

"I don't know," Dean said. "I don't know what we're talking about, so I don't know." Skye groaned.

"It's not my job to educate you on this," she said. "Just think about every feminine hygiene commercial you've ever seen and then you'll probably be able to figure it out." That's when it clicked.

"Oh." Dean drew out that syllable much longer than he probably needed to. "Uh… Do you need to go to the hospital?" Sam gave him an odd look and Dean shrugged. He didn't know what else to ask.

"No," Skye said. "I don't usually get that physically sick. In fact, I'll probably be fine to hunt. I just thought it'd be a stupid idea to chase after a vampire while I'm like this."

"Well, why didn't you just say that?" Dean asked.

"Because I knew one or both of you would be weird about this," Skye said.

"I had a long-term live-in girlfriend," Sam said. "So I get it. I know to be discreet. In fact, I had a feeling this was what was going on and didn't say anything."

"Thank you," Skye said. "I appreciate it."

"We can stop somewhere if you, uh, need something…" Dean gripped the steering wheel a little harder. That was the least he could offer to do, right?

"I have everything I need," Skye assured. "It hasn't even started yet. I'm just tired and achy and pissed. All need is just to get some sleep."

Glancing back through the rearview mirror, Dean didn't need help believing that. Skye slumped back to the side with her head on the window again. She'd regained some color but was still a bit paler than usual. Despite not knowing what she was going through, he did feel a bit sorry for her.

"Alright," he said. "If that changes, let us know."

Needing something to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation, Dean turned the music on but kept it at a low level so Skye could get some rest. When he looked back again, she was fast asleep. That was good for her. At least someone was getting sleep.

Thursday, October 10th, 2008

Mt. Airy, North Carolina

Dean found himself once again being jolted back to consciousness. Sitting up in the cheap motel bed, he grasped at the fabric of his t-shirt while his heart pounded out a rapid beat. He knew he needed to calm down before things spiraled out of control, so he tried breathing in and out slowly and deeply. It did help, but Dean thought that it would probably have been more effective if he didn't have that phantom pain in the middle of his back flaring up with every breath.

Once he felt he had some sense of control, Dean started looking around for Sam. He found his brother asleep in the opposite bed, furthest from the door. He was unharmed and – as far as Dean could tell – sleeping peacefully. Getting confirmation of his brother's safety took a huge weight off his shoulders and allowed him to relax a bit more.

He scanned the room and found Skye asleep on the small runner-up bed they'd asked for. She'd kicked off her blankets and instead of resting her head on the pillow she had it clutched against her abdomen. Dean found it odd, but if she was comfortable like that…

Nothing was out of place otherwise. It wasn't anything external that had pulled him from sleep. He'd had the nightmare again and it had shocked him just as badly as it had all the time before.

Getting out from under the covers, Dean moved to sit on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. He didn't get this. He hadn't seen Castiel all day. He was careful not to touch the handprint, didn't even do so while he was showering. Why? Why was this happening?

Dean got to his feet. He didn't know what he was doing, but he certainly wasn't going to sleep. Might as well make himself useful with the abundance of time he suddenly had. He moved across the room to the small dining table where Sam had left his laptop to charge. Dean unplugged it and moved to sit on the other side of the table so the bright light of the screen wouldn't flash in Sam and Skye's faces.

With the computer booted up and the browser opened to Google, Dean had to pause for a moment and think about what he was doing. At first, he was going to search for anything involving dreams and premonitions just so he could put this whole Castiel thing to bed, but then he remembered something Sam said about search history what seemed like a lifetime ago.

"I know you used my laptop to look at porn again, Dean. Just because you close the browser, that doesn't mean that your search history goes away."

That reminder was enough to dissuade Dean from proceeding with that search. He didn't know enough about computers to cover his tracks, and even if he did it wasn't like it mattered anymore. Skye was a computer genius. If Sam asked, it probably wouldn't take much for her to get it back. Granted, Sam would only ask her to do that if he became suspicious, but Dean didn't want to risk it.

Instead, Dean ended up searching for information about nightmares and insomnia in general. Sure, that wouldn't stop Sam from grilling him, but at least he could come up with a more innocuous explanation for that. Plus, he really did need the info. If he kept losing sleep like this, he wouldn't be alert enough to drive. That wouldn't be good. It would mean letting Sam drive again and he still was hesitant to give him that privilege again after what he did to his car while he was gone.

From there, Dean started browsing various medical pages. Although, he didn't find it too helpful. The only thing he learned was that he couldn't knock himself unconscious as a means of catching up on sleep. Something about brain processes and healing…? Otherwise, all he saw were a bunch of likely ineffective home remedies and ads for drugs he probably couldn't afford even if he went to a dealer. So, it was basically all pointless.

With that path leading nowhere, Dean tried switching things up and searching for something else. He went for one of his usual (non-porn) searches: "suspicious events in…" Those words could usually bring up a plethora of articles from across the country, all of which could potentially lead them to their next job. That's what he needed to do, focus on something else. If he wasn't thinking about that scene, he wouldn't be worrying about it and maybe then he could get some sleep.

Hitting the search button, Dean was surprised not to find anything. The only articles he found were about the trial of a guy who killed his wife and that woman down in Florida whose two-year-old daughter disappeared while she was out partying. He then tried searching "cause of death undetermined." Sometimes some particularly suspicious deaths could be found with that search.

The first few articles he found just seemed to be the standard cases of "coroner couldn't decide if the smoke or flames killed them first." There was another article about a guy just suddenly dying in a crowd of people but reading the article it became clear that it was more of a medical mystery rather than a supernatural one. Then Dean came upon an article titled "Cause of Death Undetermined for Man Who Died On Cruise Ship."

At first, Dean didn't think it was going to be their thing. Investigators seemed to be split on whether this guy died naturally from a heart attack or if it was murder. The coroner not coming to a conclusive cause of death wasn't helping matters. Dean was just about to write it off and move on when his eyes landed on the coroner's comments. That's where the story took a turn for the strange.

In his comments, the coroner mentioned an unidentified biological substance found at the scene. He didn't say much about it, but did describe it as "flesh-colored" and "gooey." To an ordinary person that would just seem weird and gross, but to Dean – a hunter who just came off a shapeshifter case – it seemed to be a clue that something else was going on.

Although Dean might not have enough computer knowledge to delete his search history, he did at least know how to bookmark a page. Taking care of that, he powered off Sam's laptop and crawled back into bed. Now that he had something to distract him, he felt better. It didn't help keep the intrusive thoughts about the entire situation completely at bay, but it helped. Focusing on the perspective hunt gave his mind something to do other than worry, and that was enough to relax him into a dreamless sleep.

Don't worry, this won't be the only time Cas shows up. Though it might be a bit before he does again…

Just a note as you read this story, I understand that what Skye is experiencing is out of the norm for most people on their menstrual cycle. Most of this is based on an experience I had while on vacation at Disney World in 2015. Basically I began suffering from dysmenorrhea along with dehydration and exhaustion and it resulted in me having a pretty bad time. These things can happen to people, so please don't accuse me of exaggerating or making something bigger than it should be.

Remember kids, be nice to people. You never know if you're making a bad day worse.

Originally posted on 9/15/2024