Sam's point of view

In an instant, Cas turned around and gently touched her forehead with two fingers. She collapsed instantly, motionless on the floor. Dean stared at him in shock. "She's only sleeping," Castiel said calmly. "Come on, Cas. Let's at least talk about this before you rush headfirst into something," Dean pleaded. The angel showed no reaction. Sam gathered all his courage and approached him quickly. But in a second, Castiel turned again and gently placed his fingers on Sam's forehead.

Dean's point of view

Sam's knees buckled, and he crumpled to the ground, completely still. A small pool of blood formed at his temple. He had his head on the edge oft he station counter. "SAMMY!" Dean shouted in despair. He rushed forward but stopped abruptly, instincts flaring. This wasn't Cas. He was driven by revenge, something very unlike him. In this state, reasoning with him was impossible.

The angel noticed his hesitation. He disappeared around the corner, leaving Dean standing there, helpless and stunned. The only sound that remained was the faint flutter of wings. Dean dropped to his knees beside his brother. "Hey, Sammy. Come on, you've got this," he said, voice tight with worry. "Are they okay?" a nurse asked, clearly concerned after witnessing everything.

Dean whipped around, his hand instinctively reaching for his weapon. But when he realized who it was, his heart rate began to settle. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered without meeting the nurse's eyes. Desperately, the hunter looked in the direction Castiel had vanished.

Sam's point of view

When Sam woke up, he was in the Impala. He instantly recognized the comfortable leather seats of the classic car. He'd spent far too much time in them over the years. He yawned and opened his eyes slowly. "Hey, Sammy. I didn't know how long Cas's sleep spell would last. How are you feeling?" "Just a bit of a headache. I'm okay. Don't worry about me. Where is he now?" the younger one asked.

"Gone." "Where are we headed?" "Back to the bunker." was the answer. Sam's thoughtful gaze was fixed on the road. "You tracked him, didn't you?" he asked directly. "I tracked Cas's phone. He's in Stillwater. We will be there soon." "Stillwater, huh? What could he want there?" "Maybe Crowley's there," Dean guessed.

Sam had lost track of time. The Impala pulled into a small rest stop with a motel. Dean silently stopped at a gas pump and refuiled. When he returned from paying, Sam spoke up. "We should stay the night. We're both completely exhausted. And what are we even going to do if we do find him right now?" "We have to find Cas as soon as possible. If we don't, he might be gone forever." Dean was stubborn as always. Sam knew there was no changing his mind now. Dean drove back onto the road. His younger brother looked worried, even as he dozed off in the passenger seat.

A few hours passed until the car engine fell silent. The change in sound woke Sam. He rubbed his eyes sleepily. "What's going on?" he asked groggily, fishing his phone out of his jacket. The bright screen forced him to blink. The digital clock read 7:54 am, and the sun was already rising. "I'm getting us some breakfast and coffee. Want anything special?" "No, thanks." Dean got out and walked toward the gas station shop. Sam turned up the music. AC/DC was playing. Of course it was one of Dean's beloved cassette tapes.