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"Heya Cas," Dean said over his shoulder at the tell tale whisper of a thousand wings landing beside him. He was sitting on the dock at the lake house half dozing in the green lawn chair he's pinched from Sam's Club. The fish weren't biting but they never did in dreamland.
"Hello,"Cas was his usual self, man of few words, but he was much blurry at the edges. When Castiel had first begun to appear into Dean's dreams he'd always seemed more solid, real. Of course Dean knew this Cas wasn't real, his had waded into a river and never come back out.
"Funny to see you here man. It's been four months since you were gone. I kinda miss you." Dean confessed while casting the fishing line back out into the still waters of the lake.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I wanted to leave you." Dream Cas looked so forlorn that Dean wanted to wrap him up in a blanket. His big blue eyes were watery, soft, the way he'd looked at Dean so many times during the first year of the apocalypse. Like Dean was a marvel and a martyr all at once.
"Cas, buddy, you are so dumb. Literally the dumbest person I've ever met."
"Well I'm not a person so..." There was the dry humor he missed so much.
"Yeah yeah semantics you little shit." Dean smiled, bigger than he had in the last four years. Hell will do that to a man.
"Why are you here? Did my brain concoct some sort of little reunion to ease woes?"
"Im not sure, one moment I there and the next I was here."
"Where exactly is there?" Dean wondered, heaven? Hell? Some place in between?
"New york? I think?"
Dean snorted.
"You died in New York buddy."
"I'm dead?"
"Yeah dude and now you're some kind of figment of my imagination."
"I don't feel like a figment of your imagination."
"That's exactly what a figment of my imagination would say!" Dean rolled his eyes and set aside the fishing equipment to stand up from his chair.
"You aren't real, your dead." Dean reminded the dream Castiel.
"You keep saying that as if I'm not right in front of you." Argued the angel.
Dean threw his hands up in the air, the frustration clear all over his face.
"Fine I'll prove that you aren't him."
"Ho-" Dean grabbed him by the shoulder and did something he's been wanting to do since they met. He planted one on him. To his surprise the dream-Cas kissed back.
It started slow, just a dry kiss, but Cas's lips were so plump Dean couldn't help but tease his tongue against the seam of his lips. Cas's arms came up around Dean and pulled him closer.
Every available emotion was running through Dean, mark him down as scared, sad, and horny. The angel, no his angel, the one that marked him the day they met opened his mouth, deepening the kiss. Dean shuddered against his greedy mouth that took with all the power he'd so wished to feel for so long. Dean was a sick fuck, he knew that, by god had he wanted Castiel to kiss him even if it was a dream version.
"Stop-" Cas pulled away, his arms still around Dean, forehead resting in his." I don't know your name." Dean yanked himself away like Cas was on fire. He stumbled back, crashing against the lawn chair and tumbled to his side. Dream Cas crouched down, ghosting a finger across the planes of his face.
"I'm sorry, I can't remember you. I should have said something before."
"Fuck you man, this is my dream! I'm Dean, your best friend, fuck you're my only friend."
"Dean..." Castiel weighed the word in his mouth. Stretching the syllables like he'd never said the name before. Dean cringed, why did this hurt so fucking bad? He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself awake.
He came too where he left himself, tangled up in the bed sheets of some dingy motel still wearing his jeans. Across the room Sam snored softly, his big moose head illuminated by the moonlight.
Emmanuel woke up with a start, sweating from head to toe. He was thankful in that moment that his "wife" insisted they had separate twin beds when he realized what he'd done to the sheets.
Half stumbling to the bathroom he looked into the face he'd never recognized that stared back from the mirror. The dream playing over and over again in his mind while his heart still raced in its ribs. Who was that man? Was it someone he made up? Was it someone he couldn't remember?
God, how could he forget a face like that?