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His breath caught in his throat as he took the form of the person he once knew, standing in front of him. The usual clean shaven face with bright eyes, now dull and shaggy looking. The person looks haggard, a vast difference from the last time he had seen them. He blames himself, after all if he had tried harder to save them, then maybe their appearance wouldn’t have been so scruffy. They wouldn’t look like they have been through hell and back.
If he had tried harder, Dean wouldn’t feel this heavy, earth crushing guilt.
One Day Earlier
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The only sound that can be heard in the motel. No matter how often Dean tried to fix it, it kept getting worse. Unfixable. Just like him. It was one of his many complaints to the front desk, all left unheard. It wouldn’t be of concern to him if he was just staying one night like he usually did, but he’d been there for about a week, alone without Sam. They had left each other to follow different leads for a case they have been working on for the past few days. So far, all he’s had were constant dead ends. He was exhausted.
Like his mood, the skies were dark and stormy. They were unpredictable. His phone held several missed calls from Sam, probably trying to find out where he was and how he was doing. But the truth was, Dean couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Ever since Cas… ever since Castiel had gotten stuck in Purgatory, Dean couldn’t help but blame himself. He didn’t try hard enough. He was so concerned about saving Benny that he didn’t try hard enough to get his… best friend out of that damn place.
Dean swore Castiel was out of Purgatory, he was so sure he saw him. Sam reckoned it was a figment of his imagination. Apparently, people you cared about a lot come to you in hallucinations, feeling so real.
“Especially with the way you and Cas care about each other with your profound bond, ” Sam had said. (Pffft, Dean doesn’t like Cas to the extent Sam makes out).
Survivor's guilt Sam had called it. Dean thinks it's bullshit.
The first time he had seen Castiel (or had a vision as Sam said) was when they were riding in the Impala. They were on their way to Montana to stay in Rufus’ cabin before they had to split up to follow different leads. They had been driving through Lockwood when he saw him. Cas, walking along the road, looking as dishevelled as he did when they were both in Purgatory. He had disappeared just as quick as he appeared. Dean was shaken up, noticeably so. Sam raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing.
The second time Dean had seen Cas, Sam and he had been hunting a vamps nest, they had got all of the vamps but there was just one left. Killing it was a damn bitch. He fought everything, constantly getting the machete hit out of their hands and flinging it across the room when they got close. Dean eventually got in and lifted the machete to take a swing when something caught his eye. Cas. A wild, dishevelled Cas, watching. Like last time, he had disappeared as quickly as he appeared. It was then that Dean realised the vamp had evaded his attack. Sam had just beheaded the vamp, looking at him in worry and confusion, but he also noticed a bit of anger. Sam hadn’t been happy with him, arguing with him about it for ten minutes about how irresponsible it is to let your emotions and stupid hallucinations get in between the hunt . It made him sound like John.
The third time and most recent time he had seen Castiel was when he was washing his hands in the bathroom of the motel. He had been looking in the mirror when Cas appeared behind him. He was looking at him as if he was staring into his soul, a critical look in his eye, as though Cas was blaming him for being stuck in Purgatory. The guilt got to be much for Dean to handle. Anger and guilt burned in him, and he punched the mirror with Cas’ vision still in it, his face cracking before the vision disappeared completely. Dean couldn’t calm himself down. His knuckles bloody, he walked out of the bathroom, picking the tv up and throwing it, hitting the telephone off the wall, all in a fit of rage. Raging at Cas for not being there properly, but even more angry at himself for not trying enough. Sitting on the bed, he rested his elbows on his knees, putting his head in his hands.
Dean’s phone buzzing in his pocket brings him out of it. He pulls it out and looks at the caller ID. Sammy. He picks it up, wiping the stray tear that fell out of his eyes. “Sammy?”
“Dean, I think I found something,” Sam informs him, a sense of urgency in his voice. He was completely unaware of Dean’s little… tantrum. “So, get this, there’s been another report of a child going missing. Aaron Webber. There was also a tornado, just like the previous reports.”
“Where is it?” Dean asks. Sam gives him the location as Dean starts packing up the clothes that he had dumped all over the floor. Looking at his mess, he rubs his face, knowing he’ll feel guilty about leaving without cleaning it up. “Alright, give me a few, I’ll be there soon.”
Sam hangs up and Dean tosses his phone onto the bed, then starts to clean up the aftermath of his breakdown. He first picks up the TV and sets it all back up before picking up the landline, trying to get it on the wall. After a few failed attempts, he gives up, putting it on the cupboard. He then walks into the bathroom, picking up the shards of glass and putting them in the bin, wrapped in tissue. Once he’s satisfied that it’s not as messy, and his knuckles are cleaned up, he picks his bag up, checks out at the front desk, and gets back into the car.
Sam gets in the car before they make their way to Salina, Kansas. Sam doesn’t question the dried blood staining Dean’s knuckles or the way he’s gripping the steering wheel, joints almost white. Sam reads the map to Dean, giving him directions while also talking him through the case and new report. Dean can’t entirely focus his mind on Castiel. Thinking about where he is and why he’s not staying. He knows he’s out there somewhere. He will find him. He knows he will.
Judging by the map, the drive will take thirteen hours, not too long for Dean. But about two hours in, when they’re in Wyoming, Dean realises Baby needs gas. They pull into the closest gas station, Baby slowing to a stop. Sam stays in the car, looking through the newspapers for any information they might need going into the case. Filling the car up, Dean walks into the station, paying for his gas and grabbing a few snacks for the ride before he walks out.
“Look who it is, that your little boyfriend in the car?” Dean turns to the side, seeing a figure, slightly taller than him, maybe even taller than Sam. The man looks older than them both, sporting a goatee and a small moustache. Dean squares up, ready to fight, dropping the snack bag to the ground. The dude chose the wrong day to start picking on him. “Oh look, you think you can take me, little bitch?” The guy sneers, fists clenched.
“Oh, I know I can,” Dean snarks, his lips twisting into a smirk. “And that is my brother, you sick freak,” The man goes to take a punch, but Dean grabs his closed fist, twisting it. He’s sure he hears a crunch as the guy sucks in a breath. Dean sees Sam watching, but he shakes his head quickly to show Sam that he doesn’t need him to intervene. He can handle himself.
The man backs down once Dean lands a kick to his groin and a punch to his face, smart enough to see that Dean isn’t to be messed with. Picking up his bag, Dean stalks away. When he gets to the car, he opens the door, dumping the bag onto Sam’s lap before he pulls away.
The rest of the drive and stops go smoothly, with no one else trying to cause an argument or start a fight. They arrive in Salina by nightfall and check into a motel, both deciding that they’ll get some rest before investigating. Dean slid his gun under the bed, keeping his hand on it as he got comfortable. Ever since they had woken up to Walter and Roy pointing guns in their faces and shooting them, Dean has been paranoid and keeps the gun accessible, if not for him, then so that he can save Sammy.
All too soon, Dean and Sam wake up, get into their suits, and check their fake FBI badges to get the names they’re using. They then head to Mrs. Hagar’s house, the woman who had reported the crime, and the victim's teacher. Knocking on the door, a young woman answers, looking to be in her early to mid-thirties.
“Hi, are you Mrs. Hagar?” Sam asks, reaching for his badge as she nods her confirmation. “I’m Detective Smith and this is Detective Parker, we’re with the FBI. We were wondering if you could answer some of our questions about Aaron Webber’s disappearance?”
“Of course, come on in.” Mrs. Hagar lets them in, showing them to the living room and offering for them to take a seat.
“So, Mrs. Hagar, what do you remember about Aaron’s disappearance?” Dean asks, leaning forward and looking straight into her eyes.
“I don’t really remember much about it; the weather was fine until a tornado came out of nowhere. I don’t know what happened after taking Aaron to the bathroom just before the tornado, I must have fallen and hit my head because I woke up and I was around three blocks away from the preschool.” Mrs. Hagar explains, her eyebrows furrowed as she tries to think of any other detail that may be of importance to them. Sam mumbles an exorcism under his breath and Dean watches her, but she doesn’t react. “I do remember when I woke up there was a smell of sulphur.”
Dean looks at Sam, nodding his head as if to confirm what each other is thinking. Demons, but why? What do they want with children? “Okay, thank you for your time, Mrs. Hagar. Any more questions and we’ll be in touch,” Sam says as they both stand, offering a kind gesture as they walk towards the front door.
Once they leave, they make their way to the preschool, investigating the yard. “What I don’t get is why would demons be after these kids? Usually, there’s some sort of connection to them but so far… I’ve got nothing,” Sam says, crouching down and inspecting the slide.
“Makes sense with freak weather happening too,” Dean comments, walking around the playground. They’re unable to find anything, no evidence or links to where Aaron could be.
Once they’re satisfied that no stone has been left unturned, they head back to the motel. It’s late by the time they have food, and Sam calls it a night, getting into bed and falling asleep.
Leaving Dean alone with his thoughts again.
As Dean sits on the sofa, looking through the missing people posters of the kids that have gone missing, he gets the feeling like he’s being watched. Looking up, Dean sees Cas staring in at him through the window. As he goes to stand, Castiel disappears again. Rushing to open the door, Dean looks around frantically, trying to spot Castiel. He can’t have gone far, surely. It’s making Dean feel like he’s lost his mind and he hasn’t, it’s all there, or at least he thinks it is.
In the distance, he spots a flicker of what seems to be Castiel’s trench coat, and he runs towards it. When he gets there and there are again no signs of Cas, he stops and turns around, looking in all directions. He can’t find him.
“Cas!” Dean calls out, desperate to hear from him. All of these visions haven’t been enough. Dean needs to find Castiel and tell him that he’s sorry. That he’s sorry he left him in Purgatory, he’s sorry he didn’t try hard enough, and he’s sorry he failed him like he fails every other damn person that walks into his life. He’s about to give up and turn away when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jumps, turning around with an audible gasp that leaves his mouth as he comes face to face with Cas. “Cas.”
“Hello, Dean."
His breath caught in his throat as he took the form of the person he once knew, standing in front of him. The usual clean shaven face with bright eyes, now dull and shaggy looking. Castiel looks haggard, a vast difference from the last time he had seen him. He blames himself, after all if he had tried harder to save Cas, then maybe his appearance wouldn’t have been so scruffy. He wouldn’t look like he had been through hell and back. Which is probably close to what Purgatory felt like.
If he had tried harder, Dean wouldn’t feel this heavy, earth crushing guilt. He wouldn’t feel like he had failed, like he had failed every damn person that comes into his life.
Dean opens his mouth but no words come out. All the things he had planned on telling him, all the words he had recited over and over in his head, disappearing like dust on a shelf.
“Dean. It’s so good to see you.” Castiel embraces him immediately. Dean wraps his arms around Castiel, and he can’t help but notice that the hug is different. The arm placement is wrong, and it doesn’t feel like Castiel. Maybe it’s just that it’s been a while since he last hugged the angel, he hopes so at least. He doesn’t want to think about it, so he pushes it to the back of his mind. He hasn’t had him back long.
“It’s good to see you too, Cas.” Dean pulls away, looking into the angel’s eyes. “Come on, let's get you home.”
Dean takes Castiel back to the motel they’re staying at, Dean offering Cas his bed and he’ll sleep on the sofa, only for the angel to remind him that he doesn’t require sleep and that he would prefer for Dean to be well rested. So Dean lays in bed, falling asleep with a pit of guilt in his stomach.
With the help of Castiel’s knowledge, they find out the kids taken were known prophets, and that Crowley had been causing havoc to get them in order to decipher the angel tablet.
They go on like normal for two weeks, Dean, Sam and Cas hunting the typical monsters, travelling from state to state. They end up back in Salina, Kansas for another case, a ghost haunting the Pickett family that had already claimed the life of the father. It had been gruesome, the man had been using a chain saw and all of a sudden it just turned on uncontrollably. Witnesses said it was like George Pickett was fighting with someone invisible.
As it turns out, it was the ghost of the eldest daughter who had tragically passed in an accident with an open dishwasher, Jenette Pickett had recalled the horrifying moment George and her walked into the kitchen to find their beloved daughter, full of blood and dead, having fallen on the open dishwasher with sharp knives. They now put all their knives downwards.
The case is over as quick as it started, and they decide to stay in the motel for the night instead of driving to another case. Dean leaves Sam and Castiel behind who still seems off, he’s now shaved and looks more like Cas, but his mannerisms are off. Dean is still putting it down to the fact the angel had spent so much time in Purgatory that he needs to put himself back together. Dean knows that feeling all too well.
He walks to the diner, needing some alone time. He’s about halfway there when he feels a cold chill running through his bones, the strong smell of sulphur invading his nose. He puts his hand on his gun, turning around and sees Meg Masters.
“Hold your horses, I’m not here to cause trouble.” She holds her hands up in surrender. “I’m here to speak to you about Clarence.”
“What about Castiel? He’s fine.” Dean pulls his gun out, regardless of her not trying anything yet. Sam and him learnt the hard way that not all is how it seems with her. She can be very deceitful. She shrugs her shoulders, sticking her hands in the pockets of her jeans.
“That angel that’s following you around? That’s not Clarence.” Meg informs him, shrugging her shoulders. “I popped in whilst you and Sam were out, his soul is dark, impure. I can sense something off with him.”
Her story does add up, Dean too has noticed his mannerisms were off and even his voice was different. “What’s it to you?”
She shrugs her shoulders, “it’s not as fun to annoy this fake Clarence.”
There’s something in her eyes and voice that gives away that she’s lying about her reason, and Dean’s not an idiot, he can see that she does genuinely care about Castiel. “Okay. Where is the real Cas?”
“I don’t know everything.” She rolls her eyes, pulling her hands out of her pockets. “But I know of a witch who can do a tracking spell to find where he is.”
“Take me to her.” Dean demands, pulling out his phone and calling Sam, making sure he’s out of earshot for the fake Castiel and informing him of the situation. “I’ll collect you once we find where the real Cas is. Keep an eye on him.”
Pocketing his phone, Dean follows Meg to the witch's house just around the corner. The witch does the spell, informing them that he’s being held in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Salina. Dean feels anger and worry burning up inside of him.
Worry about who has got Castiel, who fake Castiel is and what they’re doing to him. They leave, hurrying back to the motel and finding Sam and Castiel sat looking through files. Dean nods at Sam, who gets up and they go to the Impala. Meg joined Castiel in the back seat.
It’s not a long drive, and Dean keeps looking in the back at Castiel , who realises where they’re heading. He tries veering them away, but when it becomes apparent they’re not going to stop, Meg grabs him harshly, using the angel cuffs to stop him using his powers.
They arrive at the warehouse, and park up. Sam and Dean ensure they’re stocked up on their weapons, unsure of what they’re up against. The three of them walk in, Castiel being dragged along by Meg.
“Where is Castiel?” Meg shoves him harshly against the wall. She pulls out a blade she had taken from the Winchester’s, scraping it down his cheeks.
“Naomi has him. She wants him to be the soldier he was meant to be. He’s weak, too involved.” Castiel breaks, hissing as she cuts him again.
Once they know who they’re looking for, they make the decision to split up, Sam going one way and Meg and Castiel the other way. As Dean ventures further into the warehouse, he bites the urge to call out for Cas.
He reaches a dark room, and he spots Castiel, a wild look on his face and in his hand he holds a blade. “Cas.” Dean rushes to him, only to be surprised by Castiel throwing him against the wall.
Castiel is even more powerful, and as the angel beats him, he’s already broken his forearm and his wrist, so he doesn’t fight back. He won’t beat him and- and he can’t bring himself to hurt his friend. Instead, as Castiel reaches the angel blade high, Dean reaches out, weakly as Castiel raises his angel blade high.
“Cas. Cas. I know you’re in there, I know you can hear me… Cas it- it’s me. We’re family. We- I need you, Cas.” Dean pleases, looking in his eyes and he can see some sort of fight inside them. “Come back to me. Please.”
It’s obvious when Castiel wins, he drops the angel blade, dropping to his knees in front of a badly beaten Dean. His eye swollen as he watches Castiel out of his good eye.
“I’m so sorry, Dean.” Castiel reaches out, touching Dean’s forehead. His voice was full of guilt. The pain subsides completely, and Dean is able to see out of the once swollen eye.
“What the hell just happened?” He looks at Castiel as the angel tentatively reaches forward. “What happened to you, Cas?”
“I don’t know. I woke up here and Naomi was putting pins on me.” Castiel shrugs his shoulders. “Now that I recall, they had a plan. Get rid of you, sent Batholomew in my vessel. Dean, I wanted to stop them- I swear.”
“Where are they now?” Dean looks at him, allowing Castiel to pull him up. “I’m gonna kill them.”
Castiel leads Dean to where Naomi usually kept him, a white room, so bright that when they walk in it makes Dean squint. It’s almost as if Naomi had made it to be like heaven.
There’s no signs of life, everything of importance all packed up and gone as though she had vacated in an emergency. Dean notices a door poking out from a table. He holds his gun out as he walks towards the foot. The body of Fake Castiel lays on the floor, eyes burned out.
“She must have known you were here and left,” Castiel comments, kicking the leg of the vessel.
They meet up with Sam and Meg, both having found no signs of Naomi or any of her minions. They exit the building, climbing into the Impala and driving to the motel.
They arrive and Dean sits in the car with Cas as Sam and Meg get out and he looks at Castiel. “Look Cas. I forgive you. I will always forgive you, what that woman had done- what she had made you do, it’s not your fault okay?“
“But Dean, I almost killed you. I could feel myself slipping away.” Castiel looks guilty, and it’s clear he’s learnt from the king of taking on guilt that he doesn’t need. “I would’ve never forgiven myself if I had- if you had died.”
“Let’s put it behind us okay Cas? You feel guilty about this and I feel guilty about purgatory.” Castiel looks confused, but Dean doesn’t allow him to speak. “I love you, Cas.”
His breath catches in his throat as the angel leans over, pressing his warm lips against Dean’s. Butterflies flutter around Dean’s stomach as he kisses the angel. His angel.