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He was at the end of his life, he knew.
Sam was holding his son's hand, letting himself fall asleep, knowing he wouldn't wake up.
Then, by no effort of his own, he was standing next to his bed. He could see his own body still lying on the bed, his son still holding his hand.
Sam knew that this was when ordinary people would be scared or confused. But not Sam Winchester.
He turned to look for his reaper, but there was no reaper standing behind him. Instead, there was a friend.
"Cas?" Sam said.
Castiel smiled. Sam would have sworn he was glowing. The radiant blue eyes touched with wrinkles from his smile, the trenchcoat, the slightly messy hair - it was all Cas, painfully, brilliantly, just as Sam remembered him.
"Hello, Sam," the angel said. Sam's heart ached at the familiarity of that deep voice.
"Are you... Is this...?"
"I'm real. I'm okay," Cas said, managing to answer the most important of the myriad questions swirling in Sam's mind.
Sam hugged him. Cas let out a surprised huff but immediately wrapped his arms around Sam in a tight embrace.
Sam was a bit of a crier, and he had always known that. But that had bothered him less and less over the years. So he felt no shame as he buried his face in Cas' shoulder and wept.
It had been a lifetime since Sam had last seen Cas. Sam had lost his dear friend without even a chance to say goodbye. He had never even been certain that Cas was alright. Sam had faith, of course. He believed that Jack would have saved Cas. But to be sure now that he was okay, that Cas was happy and free - took the weight of literal years off of Sam's shoulders.
When he pulled away moments later, hand still on Cas's shoulder to keep him close, he could see the remnants of tears on Cas' cheeks as well.
"It's so good to see you," Sam said. "I never stopped thinking about you after we lost you."
"I know," Cas responded, an edge of strong emotion making his voice rough. "I heard your prayers."
Sam nodded, overcome with gratitude and affection, unable to even speak for a moment. Then he noticed his hand on Cas' shoulder. More specifically, he noticed how young it looked. He held both hands in front of himself, turning them to take in how different they were from how they had looked just a moment ago.
"I, uh, I put you back to the way you looked the last time I saw you," Cas explained. "I hope you don't mind."
Sam laughed, bright and excited. Appreciating how steady and clear the sound was. "This is perfect," he said.
Cas looked relieved.
"So," Sam said. "How did you get soul-collecting duty? Did Jack send you?"
"No," Cas said. "Jack isn't in heaven."
At the look on Sam's face, Cas quickly amended, "He's fine. And he'll be back. Especially when he realizes that you're there. Heaven is, um, a little different from what you remember."
What an odd thing, Sam thought, for an angel to say to a man. 'Heaven is different from what you remember'.
"How's Dean?" Sam asked.
Cas smiled fondly. "He's good, Sam. Content. But he's been waiting for you."
Sam had expected nothing less, had known since the moment Dean died that he would be waiting for Sam. That they would be together again. The thought of seeing his brother after all their time apart threatened to make him break into tears once more.
He looked back at his son.
"You raised him well," Cas said. "His life will be wonderful. And you'll see him again."
"I know," Sam said. "He was my saving grace."
Silence lingered for a moment, Cas respecting Sam's need for a moment of quiet grief.
Sam was used to missing people. But Cas knew this time would feel different, more hopeful.
Sam turned back to Cas. "Alright," he said. There was a new tremor to his voice as he added, "I'd like to see my brother now, if you don't mind."
Cas nodded and held out his hand. "Then let's go."
Sam took Cas' hand, the touch steady and comforting.
Together, they stepped into heaven.