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A blunt force to the head is all it takes to knock someone out.
Even a Winchester.
They’re on a hunt in Arizona, chasing down a pair of witches who had taken it upon themselves to terrorize a neighboring town. Both were quickly disposed of, but not before one of them got the drop on Dean, sending him sailing across the room. He collides with a bookshelf in a rather unpleasant way, the mirror hanging above it clattering from its nail and shattering around him. Immediately, as the last witch’s body dropped to the floor, all attention was turned to Dean who had yet to stir.
“Dean!” Sam calls out across the room, quickly closing the distance between them as he continued to get no response. Castiel is hot on his heels, practically throwing himself at the hunter’s side, fingers brushing over his face softly, assessing his condition.
“He is alive,” Cas informs, staring over the still body to where Sam lets out a sigh of relief. “Though I can not heal him from whatever infliction keeps him asleep.”
“It must be a part of the spell that the witch cast.”
Cas nods solemnly, pulling Dean into his arms as they make their way back to the Impala. With Cas and Dean settled comfortably in the backseat, Sam drives them back to the motel, worry pooling in his eyes. It’s nearing midnight by the time the Impala finds its way into a parking spot, barely contained within faded lines. They had no trouble making it up to their room without prying eyes, and Dean placed on the mattress, still unresponsive.
A frown makes its way onto the angel’s face, and he finds that with each passing second it’s harder and harder to remain positive.
“Any ideas?” Sam asks, perching on the second bed.
“My current plan is to go inside his head to find him and snap him out of whatever state this spell has him in - similar to the time we went in to free him from Michael’s control.”
“Should I come too?”
Cas pauses, debating. “ I think it best for someone to stay out here, to monitor our conditions, and make sure no one interrupts.” The angel spares a glance over to the younger Winchester, empathy seeping into his voice. “And maybe get some sleep while you’re at it, if you can.”
Sam huffs in an aborted sense of laughter but cracks a smile and nods. “Alright, Cas. See you in a bit.” He lets himself get comfortable on the second bed as Cas drags over a chair next to Dean, settling in it as well. He watches as a blue light travels from Cas’s body to Dean’s. “Good luck.” He whispers, but the only response he gets is the buzz of the refrigerator in the empty air.
——
When he opens his eyes, Cas is surprised to find himself in the bunker. He’s standing on the landing at the top of the stairs, next to the door. He descends the stairs slowly, surprised to find Dean at the map table, feet propped up, beer in hand. The angel pauses, noticing a pink tinge to everything around him, but holds up his hand only to realize it doesn't surround him and comes to the conclusion that it must a part of the spell.
“Dean!” Cas calls, drawing the hunter’s attention as he rushes over. He notices that Dean doesn’t have the pink tinge either.
“Hey, Cas.” Dean smiles. “I thought you were heading to the library?”
“No, Dean. I just got he-“
“Did you get lost again?” Dean laughs, standing to his feet. “C’mon, the bunker isn’t that big.”
“I know how to get to the library.”
“Then what are you doing here? You said you were gonna join Sam for research on our next case, even though we literally just got back from one.” Dean rolls his eyes. “You two won’t take a break, I swear.”
“Maybe you should join us then,” Cas says, changing his tactic. It’s obvious that the spell won’t let him get a word in edgewise if he’s trying to reveal the truth.
“Sure thing, buddy.” Dean leaves the bottle on the table and starts walking towards the library.
Cas follows, confused. “Buddy?”
“Yeah..?” Dean pauses for a second, throwing the angel a look over his shoulder. “What else would I call you?” He snorts and continues walking. “Feathers?”
“Try Baby,” Cas replies, but any response from Dean is cut short by a voice echoing in from the library.
“There you are,” A deep voice says with a hint of mirth. “I thought you weren’t going to join us.”
That wasn’t Sam’s voice.
Cas comes to grinding halt next to Dean, taking in the scene before him in shock. He’s confronted with Sam and another Cas, both who have a pink tinge around them.
“Dean?” The other Cas asks, looking at them with eerily pink eyes. “What’s that?”
Sam looks up from his book at the tone of the other Cas’s voice, eyes pink as well, and immediately draws his gun, pointing it at Cas.
“I… I don’t know.” Dean furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head, taking a step away from Cas, further into the library.
“Get out.” The Sam snarls.
“Dean!” Cas pleads, grabbing the hunter’s arm desperately. He didn’t have much time, the spell was onto him now. “Don’t you remember? We were hunting witches, in Arizona.”
“Yeah, and we killed them and got home fine, just a day or two ago,” Dean says, but the more he talks, the less he seems to believe it.
“You’re going to ruin everything.” The other Cas says, stepping closer threateningly.
“No!” Cas cries as he’s tugged away. “You got hit by a spell and you won’t wake up. I’m here to help!” Cas pleads before turning his attention to the pink-eyed Cas, who is dragging him towards the door. “Let me go!”
The other Cas doesn’t respond, and the Sam has a grip on Dean’s arm, not letting him give chase, the gun still pointing threatening towards the duo of angels.
“Please!” Cas wails from down the hall, the noise-making Dean frown and reconsider.
Dean pulls away from his brother, finding the pair at the bottom of the stairs. He goes to help but is stopped once again, unable to break free.
“Dean. Dean! Just remember that I love you.” It’s the last thing that Cas says before he’s shoved out the door.
——
“Cas?” Sam’s voice calls from the other bed, tense and concerned. His gaze flickers back and forth between the angel and his brother, who has yet to move.
Cas opens his eyes slowly, scanning the room for pink before meeting Sam’s eyes and sighing in relief as they were their normal color. The severity of the situation comes rushing back to him and he rises to his feet, hurrying to Dean’s side, and settling on the mattress. He pulls the hunter’s head into his lap, leaning over to kiss his forehead.
“C’mon, Dean,” Cas says. “I love you. I love you, I love you. You know this.” He whispers, lips brushing against his skin.
Sam walks over, placing a comforting hand on the angel’s shoulder, who startles, looking up at him with tear-stained eyes. “I don’t know if I did enough.”
“You’re always enough, Cas,” Dean says, drawing their attention to where he lays awake.
“Dean.” Cas breathes in a sigh of relief and the hunter draws himself into a sitting position, pulling Cas close and pressing an urgent kiss to the angel’s mouth.
“Eww.” Sam teases halfheartedly, removing his hand and returning to his spot on the opposite bed.
“Shut up, Sam,” Dean says, pulling away. “That witch world was weird. Cas didn't love me. I deserve this.”
Sam snorts and rolls his eyes. “Whatever, I’m gonna go scrounge up some food and leave you two to have ‘what you deserve’.” He mocks, but he has a smile on his face as he grabs his coat and the Impala’s keys, heading for a 24-hour diner.
“Damn right,” Dean calls over his shoulder, before turning his attention back to the angel in his arms.
“Hey Baby.” He says, and Cas smiles.