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"Dean! Stop, it's too risky!" Sam called out, but it did nothing to stop the older brother.
The ocean was swarming with waves larger than mountains. Lighting and thunder struck the earth, nearly deafening the two brothers as they raced towards the beach. Dean was throwing off his flannel and kicking off his shoes before diving head first into the water and swimming as fast as possible into the sea, fighting against Mother Nature.
They had been working a case, one about a vengeful husband who started killing his own children as well as family members due to them basically bullying him to death due to his fear of lakes and water. To prove himself, the father decided to try suffering, leading to a premature death. Now, he possesses them and forces them to drown just as he has. Ten minutes ago, they had noticed the last victim missing. A fifteen year old girl who couldn't swim for a similar reason.
Her arms had been flailing in above the water for a split second before Sam and Dean noticed. Thinking on his feet, Dean just ran as fast as he could, not stopping to think how dangerous the waters could be due to the storm, let alone an evil spirit haunting the depths below. He had one thought on his mind, and that was to save the girl from death.
The current was strong, jostling the hunter left and right, but he didn't give up. He kept forcing himself through the water. He swam the length of a football field before taking a deep breath and going under the surface. Eyes wide as he examined in the dark for any signs of life, before spotting a bright white nightgown in the depths, and the woman's blonde hair. Dean went as fast as possible, forcing out the need to breathe as he kept going deeper and deeper.
Once he was close enough, he wrapped an arm under the woman's armpits and began to drag her back to the surface. Eyes began to sting from the salt water, and the only way that he could tell was up, was by the bubbles that escaped with every kick of his legs. Following them to their salvation. Finally, be broke to the surface, a large gasp of air to fill his burning lungs. Yet, he was not his priority. He never has been. Immediately, he checked on the teenager in his arms. There was a pulse, thank god. Yet, he couldn't tell if she was breathing.
However, there was something else on the surface, a boat. Only thirty feet away. Upon it, through the blurring rain and ravenous waves he could see the outline of a man.
Sam.
Another hard trek, forcing himself to keep going. Fighting every shocked nerve in his body that was telling him to give up. To stop and succumb to the waves. Yet, this girl in his arms had a life. A family who loved her. He couldn't give up.
As he made it to the boat, Sam was right there to receive her. He ran to his brother, nearly slipping on the watery deck. However, he knelt down as Dean lifted as best he could while trying to keep them afloat. It took a hard few seconds before Sam managed to pull her onto the deck and started trying to get her to breathe. Checking her throat and giving mouth to mouth to bring her back to life.
In the meantime, Dean swam to the other side of the boat and grabbed hold of the metal ladder that was hanging off to the side. He barely managed to grab the top bar and begin to pull himself up, when he suddenly felt a sharp tug on his legs, causing him to lose balance and nearly falling back into the water.
"Shit!" He cursed, wrapping both arms around the ladder to keep steady.
The tugging didn't stop, and Dean fought as hard as possible to keep pulling himself up; he even managed to get a hand on the top of the deck, but it wasn't enough. There was nothing for him to kick at. "SAM!" Dean shouted once more, before being dragged back into the water.
An unforgiving ocean swarmed him, dragging him deeper and deeper into the blackened abyss. There was no light in sight, and the world was compressing him. Emerald eyes darted back and forth, trying to find anything to grab onto as a single hand was staying raised above him. Praying that Sam would come and save him, just giving some sort of anchor to help pull him back up.
Yet, he stopped kicking. He stopped swimming. He stopped attempting to fight the entity dragging him to his death. Still holding his breath, his lungs burning by every second. However, he couldn't fight anymore. At some point, he realized that the tugging had ceased from his legs and they no longer felt like heavy rocks connected by rope to drag him. Instead, he was free.
But didn't attempt to move.
He sort of just... floated. Stayed where he was... before releasing his breath. Water infiltrated his lungs, but due to the freezing cold, he couldn't feel it. Didn't even feel like he was choking nor running out of breath. Just peacefully drifting off into the forbidden ocean.
That is, until he saw something appear at his side, and he turned his head to look at it. At first, he would have assumed he was losing consciousness and his mind began to make things up for him. To the ease the passage of life and unto death. Yet, for the past few months? This has been happening every single time he was close to death. When he was attacked by vampires, nearly being unable to breathe from a Whisper, or nearly bleeding out by sacrificing himself to a Wendigo. The same image would randomly appear.
Castiel.
It had been over a year since the entity in The Empty stole him away, after the angel had given his life to save Dean's. Every time he comes an inch to death, Castiel would appear. Still wearing the same outfit that he had for over ten years. A simple beige trenchcoat floated behind him in the water, while his black raven hair was soft and danced among the peacefulness of the underground water. His diamond eyes looking into Dean's.
"Hello Dean." He spoke, the same raspy voice that has plagued Dean's mind every single day.
A voice that he never wants to forget.
Slowly, Dean reached a hand out and placed it on Castiel's cheek. He felt so real, but he knew this was all just his mind. He could feel the warmth, the gentleness. If Dean didn't know any better, he would think that his best friend was right there with him.
Guess the mind does ridiculous things when someone is approaching the end.
"What are you doing?" Castiel asked, "It isn't your time."
Dean just kept staring at him, and couldn't move his eyes. No matter how badly they burned against the salty depths. As much as he wanted to speak, to say the words he never got to speak, he was unable to. Yet, just seeing him. Seeing his best friend. Seeing the one person in his entire life that chose to love him. To be with him. To sacrifice for him? It was enough for him at this moment.
"I know..." Castiel said gently, "I know. Sam will be here soon, but please be careful. The more I keep coming, the more Jack is going to ask questions. Stop doing this to yourself. Please, just live. Live for me."
Then, all Dean did was blink, next thing he knew, he was coughing up water, practically throwing it up on the side of the deck. The boat was now docked in some pier, and the girl that he had saved from the ocean was now wrapped in a warm towel, her hair stuck to her face and shaking from the cold. Yet, beside himself, was Sam. Holding onto Dean carefully so he didn't fall back into the water, due to how close to the edge he still was on the boat. Once he finally coughed up all the water, Sam had given him a towel as well and kept him still.
He didn't know how much time had passed, maybe minutes? Probably an hour, and the two of them were back in their beloved Impala while an ambulance was taking the teenager away to the hospital. They had to give some long eccentric story about how they had already been on the boat when the storm started and the two of them had fallen in. Easy story, a little bit believable. That's all that mattered. However, since they've been in the car, and Dean had been changing into a spare set of clothes that was in a duffle bag, Sam had been staring at him.
Not a glare, nor one of annoyance. The only thing could think of was concern. But, why would Sam be concerned about Dean? He's breathing, no longer quivering from the icy water, and they saved the girl. All that's left for the case is to burn some bones or DNA, anything like that to put the spirit to rest.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
"Why did you jump into the water?" Sam finally asked as Dean threw on the flannel that he had been wearing earlier, which was now covered in flecks of sand.
"To save that girl?" Dean asked, confused by the question as he zipped up the duffle bag. "One of us had to go in, the spirit was one strong motherfucker."
"Yeah, yeah, I get that. But, the boat that I was on was right there. We could have just taken that and then jumped in." The younger brother explained.
"I didn't see it." Dean shrugged, now closing the trunk. "She was drowning and my first thought was to save her."
"Then when you came back out of the water with her, you just disappeared."
Dean just rolled his eyes and looked back at him, "This is not our first rodeo with a spirit, Sammy. How many times have we saved a victim, and then they in turn try to attack us back? Do you not remember the doctor who possessed you and then you tried to kill me?"
This time Sam scoffed, not wanting to be reminded of such an event. "That's not the same!"
"Look, the spirit grabbed me and dragged me under the water. That's all. There's no two undrawn cards, no hidden shots in the dark, nothing. So just drop it."
Sam went to say something, but the death glare that Dean gave made him shut it up real quickly. So, they did what they always did. They went ahead and finished the case. They ended up finding some doll that was hidden in the attic of the man's house, burned it, and the spirit was put to rest. After that, they grabbed some food and headed back to the bunker.
The bunker was always quiet now, something that the both of them hated with a passion. At one point, when all of those other people from another universe came over, it was a bustling metropolis. Something that Dean hated, but then there were just the four of them. Himself, Sam, Jack... and Castiel.
Now it was just the two of them. Exactly as before. Before angels and demons showed up. Before Dad had gone missing. Everything and anything in between. Yet, now... it was just lonely. Dean missed the loud halls. Missed the sudden burning coming from the kitchen as Jack failed to cook chicken. Missed the sounds of books pounding on the table every five minutes as Sam did more and more research into every item that the Men of Letters had hidden in the bunker. Then, Castiel walking through the halls and randomly sneaked up on Dean by accident.
The long movie watches in the Dean cave, the game nights, the long rants about how stupid a certain Marvel or DC hero was way too overpowered and that made them the worst hero in both franchises.
Now, there was just nothing.
Nothing.
No one... but him.
At least, it felt that way.
Sam's the same, but he's always been that way. Water off of a duck's back if you will. However, it was like he didn't care that Jack had only fisted a handful of times since taking over heaven. Who even knows what a toddler could be doing up there. Probably making more angels. Hopefully good ones. Nor does he seem affected by Castiel's death, which eats at Dean almost every day.
Maybe that's why he was standing in the dungeon, staring at the crack in the wall that The Entity from The Empty had opened up and taken Castiel away from him. This was something he's been doing a lot lately. Just walking in and staying in the room. Listen to music. Hunt for cases on his laptop. Maybe read a book. But, mainly, it was writing in his own journal. He started one a while ago, just to write what happened that day. It slowly morphed into a hunting journal. Adding more things to monsters and supernatural beings that they've come across over the years.
This time, however, Dean was sitting against the wall. Drinking his second bottle of beer for that day and staring at the crack. His mind replayed the words that Castiel spoke. His mind repeating the images of his dearly departed friend. Then, landing on what that image of Castiel had said back in the water.
The more I keep coming, the more Jack is going to ask questions.
He took another swig of his bottle, and wiped his lips with the back of his wrist. Was his mind making it up? Or was there actually something else going on. Dean didn't know. However, in his half drunken mind... there was one way to know.
Peeking his head around his shoulder, he made sure Sam wasn't walking by before standing up and closing the door to the bunker. He even took extra time to close the case of books that lead into the other half of the room with the devils trap.
"This is so fucking stupid." Dean mumbled to himself before sitting back down in the corner. When he passes out, which he definitely will, he doesn't want to fall down and bang up his head.
Going through his pants, which took less than a second. Dean always knows where he carries his weapons. He grabbed his hunting blade with a wooden handle and a curved tip at the end.
Silver.
That'll do.
Taking another deep breath, he removed his flannel and kicked it out of the way, just in case. If his mind is only going to show Castiel when he's on the brink of death? Then, so help him, he's going to speak to him. He presses the blade of the knife against his arm, where scars have plagued his skin for years. With one last breath, he slices a deep long gash into the middle of his arm. Didn't even hesitate. Took less than one second. Blood began to pool, and dripped down the side of his arm. Staining the concrete floor beneath him.
Then the dizziness came. Wow, he was not expecting that this early.
Okay, okay, he's fine. Slowly, he leaned back against the wall. Just don't move too fast and he'll be fine. He stayed there for a while, he didn't set a timer or anything, but he knew he waited for a long ass time, before Castiel appeared once more. He was all blurry, and Dean definitely felt more out of it than he was expecting.
"What are you doing!?" Castiel asked, his voice much angrier than normal.
"That's some way to greet me." Dean joked, although his words were a bit slurred. "Took ya long enough, feathers."
Castiel rolled his eyes and placed his hand over the wound, however, before anything could happen, Dean sharply shoved his hand away. "No, don't! You are not healing me."
"Dean, you cut an artery. You are literally bleeding out!"
"So?"
"So, that means you are going to die, and I won't let that happen."
"This is..." Dean paused for a moment as a sudden bout of dizziness hit him and he had to pause what he was saying. "..this is the only way I can see you." The angel's face went soft as he slowly moved his hand away, shaking his head slightly. Yet, that didn't stop Dean from talking. "I know you're... you're gone... and there's nothing I can do about it. I tried the blood thing, I didn't have enough... but if I can see you... see you even like this it's fine. Even if this is the only way Jack will let me see you... I know you're not real."
Dean put a hand against his forehead, a bit of blood dripped from his arm and down his temple, but he wasn't exactly in the mindspace to care. "I... I miss you..."
The angel lifted his eyes a bit, "What?"
"I fucking miss you okay? God damnit... don't make me say it again." He huffed, his arm going back down to his side as he looked up at the hallucination of his departed friend. "I miss you being here... even when... wh-when we fought I knew I'd see you again... now I know I never will... until I die." Dean said softly, his head falling back against the wall at this point.
He could tell he was on the brink of passing out, now he had to start wondering how he was going to stitch himself up and actually prevent from dying and not have Sam showing up. "You're my best friend, Cas... you... you always have been." He shrugged, "I never got to say what I wanted to... I was... shocked, I was in shock." Dean looked up at Castiel, his vision was too distorted to tell what was going on, what he was doing. Yet, he could still tell Castiel was there. With him.
Like always.
"You don't have to say anything." Castiel said in a soft voice, Dean then felt a hand on his own. His reflex? Grab hold of it and never let go. So, he did. He held on as tightly as possible, yet was still pretty weak.
Dean took a moment. Was he actually going to say what he was going to say?
"I love you, too." Dean blurted, then there was silence.
Dead silence.
Castiel was there, he could feel him. Hear him. God, his imagination was very potent for some reason. However, there was suddenly a knock on the bunker door, and a name being called out. Was it his own? Were there more words being said?
Soon after, Dean could feel the physical manifestation of his best friend begin to depart. "Don't leave me..." Dean said softly, in a small whimpered beg.
Dean doesn't beg.
"Please don't leave me..." He repeated, his eyes shutting as he shook his head barely from side to side. "Don't... don't leave me..."
"Please don't..."
When he opened his eyes, he found himself in the infirmary, and a sharp pain in his left arm. Dean groaned slightly as he sat up and looked down. Seeing gauze and bandages wrapped around his arm, a bit of blood had already saturated the dressing, but it looked to have been old at this point. With squinted eyes, he looked at the clock. Damn, it had been a few hours since he last checked. Must've been night time. However, as he kept examining the area around him, he saw the one person he didn't want to see.
Sam.
He was sitting there, directly across from the bed. Wearing yoga pants and a blank tank top. He either was getting ready to work out or getting ready to go to sleep. His face was full of concern, but it looked like that washed away quickly once he noticed Dean waking up. First? Relief. Second? Panic.
"Heya, Sammy." Dean spoke, his voice a little raspy.
"Heya, Sammy? That's all you have to say?" Sam asked, almost offended.
"What else was I supposed to say? That you should piss off and not be a creep by watching me sleep. That's what pedos do man, and last I checked, I'm not five years old anymore." Dean joked.
Sam made a very unimpressed look, "That's not funny. Nor is what I found you doing."
"What exactly do you think I was doing?" Dean asked with a raised brow as he went to stand up.
"No! You are not walking away from this conversation!"
"I was just standing! Chill out, man!" Dean huffed and sat back down, really not wanting to have this conversation.
"How do you expect me to chill out, when I literally just caught you trying to kill yourself?" Sam asked.
Dean was taken aback, even raised a brow from that. "You thought? Pfft, you thought I was trying to kill myself?" Dean laughed, "Man, what kind of online psych college class are you taking now?"
"Do you honestly think I haven't noticed any of this? First off, you have literally killed yourself in the past, several times, to figure out and solve a case. Then you have almost died several times in the past month, then the whole ocean thing that just happened, and now this? What is going on!"
"Nothing is fucking going on okay? So stop bitching about it, I'm fine!"
"Does this have to do with Cas?"
The older hunter's face fell and a cold chill ran down his spine as he slowly shook his head. "Why... Why would you think that? This has... this has nothing to do with him."
There was a pause, and Sam rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. Dean tilted his head slightly, then Sam spoke. "I watched the video."
"You did what!? I told you to never-"
"I was concerned, okay!" Sam shouts, standing up now and walking over to the bed. "This bullshit self sacrificing always starts after Cas dies. It happens every single time. I needed to know why it was so bad now! ...and now I know why."
Dean just looks away, rubbing a hand down his face. He couldn't deal with this right now, he just couldn't. "...Sam..."
Sam sat down by Dean, the bed squeaked slightly. They sat in silence for a long time. Maybe Sam was waiting for Dean to continue on, but he didn't. Yet, when Sam spoke, it changed everything. "I heard what you were saying in the dungeon before I found you... everything makes sense now. But you can't... you can't keep trying to kill yourself... if something where to happen to you-"
"You would handle it."
"I wouldn't want to." Sam adds, "Please stop this... I can't lose anyone else."
"It's the only way I can see him..." Dean said softly, "I can't... I can't stop, I need to see him, Sammy. He died for me, he gave up everything for us. I don't try to kill myself, I don't want to die. At least, not on purpose. But, if me being reckless? Saving people by doing so, and then sometimes seeing Cas? Then... then that's what I have to do. I'm not going to let someone die just because I was too cautious."
Silence once more.
"...I love him, Sam. God help me, I love him. I just want him back..."
Another pause.
"I need my angel back..."