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Sam’s gone. Sam’s… gone. And now, Dad’s disappearing. For more and more days, with less and less explanations and excuses. And Dean? Well… Dean’s still holding on. Trying to define himself as someone other than John’s eldest or Sammy’s big brother. The only thing he has to hold on to is hunting. He’s good at helping people, at caring. A fireman, he thinks to himself, but this is better than that, even if the job sucks, the pay’s nonexistent, and… he’s alone.

Hunting down a chupacabra, though, is really supposed to be a two-man job. And yeah, it was going after kids, three had already turned up half-eaten, another had gone missing, but Dean really should have known to wait for backup, called Bobby at least, see if Caleb was in the area…

So now he’s bleeding out. Fitting, maybe, that he’ll die like this. Not that Sam would ever know, or John. Not that they’d really even care, if it came to that. Okay, Sam might care, but he’s already proven he’s the stronger brother, he can keep going without Dean. Dean… for the past six months, Dean’s simply been existing, not living, and death’s not too bad…

Though he never thought the angel of death would wear a trench coat. Or have blue eyes.



Castiel can see it every time he sees Dean. Whether the human was wearing a t-shirt, a shirt, a jacket – his handprint was there. They were connected in ways that angels and humans had never been before.

His brethren tell him to distract Dean. To make Dean focus on him, on the mission, on hell – anything but Samuel’s slow downward slide, sped up by that obliging demon that had preyed on Samuel’s fears and is playing on Samuel’s pride.

But what his brethren don’t realize is that Castiel is just as connected to Dean as Dean is to him – more so, even. Dean’s guiding point in his life has always been his little brother… and Castiel wonders why his brethren now want him to change that.

Wondering, however, is close to doubting. So Castiel will do his best to put it out of his mind, and ensnare Dean’s focus… without becoming ensnared in turn.



Dean owes Sam one massive ‘I told you so.’ It fights at the back of his throat, dances on the tip of his tongue, but Sam is so obviously trying to make things better. But Dean… Dean can’t trust him again. It’s too much a pattern – Sam left, Dad left, Sam came back only to leave when he disagreed, Sam listened only to stop when he thought he knew better. Sam’s guilt? Nothing new. And very, very old.

So what if he’s taking more hunts where just he and Castiel hang? Sometimes, not even real hunts – quick jobs, like salt-n-burns, banishment spells, ritual cleansing of soiled, but not corrupted, ground. And if it’s easier to breathe in Cas’s presence than Sam’s, well…





Dean tried. He honestly, one hundred percent, no hold’s barred, tried. But this is Sam’s dream life, not his. Yeah, he’d like to be Ben’s dad. Hell, he was really sure he was Ben’s dad, regardless of what Lisa said. But his weekend with Lisa was long ago, and he has not been that innocent for a long, long while.

When Castiel appears on his doorstep, it’s almost a relief. Even news that angels are on Cas’s a**, and demons are looking for Dean, perks Dean up. Because Dean? Was so meant to be a man of action, not a stay-at-home dad.

He picks up and goes, traveling with Castiel. Though Cas is back (again? What was it with people dying [including him] and not staying dead?) that doesn’t change the fact that his brethren want his balls on a platter. And, hey, maybe god or whoever fixed up Cas, gave Cas enough mojo to heal Dean, gave Cas a direct line to heaven so he was no longer as human as he had been leading up to that night in Stull Cemetery (don’t think about that don’t think about that don’t think about that) but that didn’t force Cas’s brothers in arms to welcome him back with rainbows and cupcakes.

And then they are cornered by a demon, who reveals that the reason they’re after Dean… is because Sam is no longer in hell. Perhaps Dean did something to get Sam free. Dean’s all set to go track down his brother, figure out what the hell happened, but Cas points out that what walked out of the cage…

… might not be Sam at all.





Dean is drunk. Off his a** drunk. Fall on his face drunk. And horny. Goddamn, he could hammer nails with it, swear!

So he does what he does. He picks someone up. Only, hey, there are absolutely zero hot chicks anywhere, and he was not about to do anything with something he could, quite easily, mistake for the back-end of a walrus. Or cow. Or… well, whatever the saying was. He was drunk, cut him a break, yeah?

But there are some hot guys, and while he’s not gay, hey, someone relieving the tension? Dean’s cool with that. Not that he’d mention to Sam he took home a guy…

Unless the guy he wakes up with is Sam – who, apparently knew exactly what Dean had gone out for last night and had decided to try his luck. Now Dean's majorly uncomfortable with Sam, and Sam’s staring at him, and dammit, Dean couldn’t stop picturing Sam on his knees…



Dean tries to live the normal life, he really does. Gets up, goes to work, plays ball with Ben, makes love to Lisa, but… it’s flat. Broken. He can’t take it, can’t grasp it, can’t feel safe. Insomnia’s not just a word for him anymore, and while he’s not drinking two to four bottles of Jack a day like he had been all last year, he puts away a good solid five bottles each week. Minimum.

So, getting a call from Bobby, asking him to check out something? He’s so there. And finding out it was a trap, and demons were trying to mess with him? So much better. Because he literally has nothing to live for. He had nothing to live for when Sam first died, and the only thing that changed from that time to now was the conviction that he couldn’t kill himself directly – not and be the same person Sam saw him as.

Indirectly, however…

But the reason these demons called him was interesting. Apparently, something big’s going on. Ganking them, he makes his way over to Bobby’s – to check, y’know, ‘cause the call had come from Bobby’s cell, after all – only to find that Bobby and Rufus and a big guy named Frank (Frank? really? what kinda hunter has a name like Frank?) are planning an attack on a supernatural creature.

Only the supernatural creature… is Sam.



Sam’s back. He can’t tell anyone. Just like he can’t tell anyone his visions are back. His TK is back, in full force. Hell, he once accidentally shocked a waitress. All the powers the demonic kids were showing, well, he’s got them.

He’s also got Lucifer whispering in his head whenever he closes his eyes, but that’s a whole other story.

He watches Dean sometimes, when he can. Other times he hunts. Gets rid of the nasties. Tries to do some good… even though no good could ever outweigh the evil he’s done.

But then, a hunt leads him to Dean’s town. And Dean’s not stupid, he can recognize the signs of a werewolf, but Dean’s been out of it – hell, has it been a full year? – and when the werewolf’s about to strike, Sam intervenes.

It was hard enough leaving Dean when all he was doing was watching through windows, satisfied and maybe even jealous of the normalness Dean got that he had been working so hard for. Now, when Dean’s yelling at him, it’s even harder. But Sam has to walk away. He’s different now. Just like Dean said… a monster. Something to be hunted, not to hunt. And he can’t stay with Dean, because the minute Dean found out…