Alright, time to get back on track! Thank you all to those who have stuck around, hopefully the filler chapter was a delight to read. I honestly needed to write something a bit more light-hearted, this chapter has been long in the making and I wasn't sure how to go about it for the longest time. But here we are, and here it is! Enjoy.

Inside the clearing near the center was another man. He was sitting down, a long and navy-blue coat in decent condition resting by his side. Despite the state of his coat, it was opposite to the state of the shirt and trousers that he wore; both were stained with all sorts of marks of varying color.

In his hands was what looked like a photo, and he stared at it with both love and forlorn evident in his gaze. A million ideas came across Dean's mind as he saw the man still staring at the piece of paper.

Suddenly the man seemed to realize that Dean had been standing there, and he looked up in surprise and greeting. Briskly the stranger folded the picture and slipped it in between the folds of his nice coat. Rising up, the man attempted to brush off some of the dirt that had collected on his black pants.

Looking back at Dean, the man smiled amicably before speaking with a strong accented voice.

"Well brother, how's the hunting?"

Dean could feel his body lose some of the tension once the stranger had greeted him. A pit would've formed in his stomach if he had any control over the feelings of his body. It all felt so familiar, nagging at him constantly in the back of his head. Also considering that it was locked inside of his head, Dean knew that this was from his past.

Yet despite having apparently lived through whatever it was that he was now reliving, the pirate had no idea as to what the memory was about.

"We're getting closer, seems he's heading to the main island." Words that Dean had not thought of flowed through his mouth. Mentioning a he, Dean felt himself tremble slightly; from what he could identify it felt like a boiling pot of water. Rage flowed like water through his body, causing Dean's body to take a deep breath.

'I'm not looking for Sammy,' Dean decided quickly, for the pirate could never feel rage towards his brother who the pirate had practically raised.

Confident in his decision, Dean brought himself back towards the reality which was not of the present.

The stranger-

Benny.

If Dean had control over his body, the pirate would have frowned. Somehow his mind had supplied a name to the identity of the possible ally that stood across from him. His theory of this whole strange world being a memory grew more-likely now that his mind fed him but a crumb of the feast.

Focusing once more, Dean watched as the stranger, Benny, nodded slowly in agreement.

"From what I've gathered, that sounds about right. You want to head out now, brother?"

Dean's body nodded, "Let's move." Dean was surprised by the tone of the voice, the way it seemed cold and commanding. He hadn't heard it come out like that in years. Trying to relax, Dean did his best to shove away the crowding thoughts; for now all that mattered was what was happening before him.

Benny nodded in agreement once more, and Dean's body set in motion. Walking forward, he pressed ahead into a fast pace. From behind him he could hear Benny's footsteps trailing by only a few steps. Dean could tell that Benny was intentionally letting Dean take the lead, giving him space. Did Benny fear him?

"Wouldn't be surprising, considering from what I've already seen." Dean guessed, occasionally focusing on the surrounding environment.

They traveled in silence, the one exception being undergrowth that crunched under their feet.

Suddenly Dean's body froze, and he raised a hand in warning to Benny. There was no escaping words or questions from Benny, the man immediately obeying Dean's command. Dean felt as if he was holding his breath in anticipation, even though his body continued to take even breaths as it remained rooted to where it stood.

"Northeast; behind the shrubbery," Dean whispered to Benny. Cautiously, Dean's body began to walk forward. Dean searched in the direction and immediately his eyes were locked onto a cluster of bushes that were growing nearer with every step. At first it seemed quiet, but Dean could feel the tension without even having control over his body. It was the kind of silence that created such a tension, and it was what kept Dean on his toes; if he had any control over them.

Only a few feet away from the bush now, Dean watched with slight surprise as two lean figures burst forth from the hiding spot and launched themselves at Benny and Dean.

Immediately Dean could tell it was an act of desperation, and it took little effort for his body to pin the guy down. His body glanced back to see that Benny too, had also seemed to defeat his opponent with ease.

"So," his loose mouth began, "you know anything about a man named Alastair?"

The name shocked Dean. It tossed him about in a fury of confusion and enlightenment as if he had been with wrestling with lightning. It brought forth an onslaught of images, various pieces and styles all sharing a constant theme: blood.

A image surfaced over the pool of red, a man with the eyes of a snake and the face of a rat. He was thin and narrow, but his eyes were the worst. Those eyes were a pure form of evil that prodded at the darkest corners of Dean's box.

"We- we don't know," the starving man under Dean's grip uttered, his eyes searching for his partner's.

"Well that's a real bummer," Dean's voice imitating disappointment while giving a light shrug.

Dean did not glance back to look at Benny before he decapitated the useless informant. His face was steel, eyes that did not show the damage and shock that Dean, current Dean, was feeling. It felt so familiar, the action committed by his own unwilling hand, yet it had acted so with such ease; such ferocity.

The sound of scuffling came from behind, and Dean turned around to see the one Benny had held down scramble to his feet and race off into the woods. Benny watched as the scrawny weasel disappeared before he glanced back and caught sight of Dean's face. He shrugged while his hands rested on his hips.

"Little shrimp wriggled out of my hold is all," he explained to Dean''s frowning face.

"We should go after him, he didn't talk," his own words sent the smallest of chills, this wasn't him. There was only one way this could have been him, but there were no black peepers occupying where green eyes resided. But the grin, that cold smile which he had bore with pleasure felt plenty demonic.

"Hey, we got a current location brother, no need to waste energy if it's just nothing." Benny's eyes dug into Dean's, fighting to cease his obvious desire for blood. Dean huffed before shrugging, "fine," he replied sourly. Benny walked over and patted his shoulder, smiling at the pirate's decision.

"Ataboy," he praised before walking back over and picking up his dropped weapon. Together the two left the area, the headless body remaining where it lay.

Castiel woke once more on the same day, the sky a different shade of blue that resembled his own eyes. Widening his eyes as he blinked, the former sailor attempted to sit up on the baked sand. His back protested as he slowly rose up, and for a moment Castiel watched the small waves that would attack the beach before receding.

But too many times had Castiel seen the repetitive actions of the ocean, and instead the former sailor drew his attention to the still unconscious Dean Winchester who lay to his right. Digging a foot into the sinking sand, Castiel brought himself to his feet and unsteadily treaded over to where the pirate lay.

Dean's already tanned and freckled face was glowing in the heavy sunlight. No longer was the pirate whimpering, but from time to time inaudible words escaped his lips. Castiel looked down at the pirate, but his attention was drawn away from him as a noise of alien origin was flung from the shadows of the dense forest.

Castiel stared curiously at the dark woods, squinting to try and distinguish any form or shape that would've hidden in the underbrush. But all he could see was an overall shadow amongst the blanched trunks. Curiosity tugged him towards the mystery, but his eyes were drawn back to his sleeping companion.

Compromising, Castiel was cautious as he brought his hands forward, stilling for a moment to steady himself. And, with hands still bound by vexing cuffs, began to drag Dean with him to the shade of the forest. His chest heaved with the effort and his forehead carried beads of sweat, the rest of him burning up in his worn tan coat.

Reaching the shade, the former sailor quickly dropped Dean, leaning him against the side of one of many palm trees. Castiel tried to recapture his breath as he took a seat across from the pirate, who, despite the odd circumstances, looked peaceful in his unawakening slumber.

"Come on, pirate," Castiel whispered, hoping to see those green eyes flash open and a witty comment to match Dean's sly grin.

But Dean did not stir, did not reveal those pretty green peepers, did not tease the pretty boy for his worry, did not wear that cheeky grin. He remained silent in a frozen slumber, and Cas could only witness the pirate's condition.

An unidentifiable sound reverberated throughout the forest, pulling Castiel's eyes away from Dean and into the invisible depths of the forest. Briefly his eyes transitioned from the darkening sky to the sleeping pirate before staring once more into the jungle.

"It's just a quick look, to survey the environment," Castiel decided as he rose back up and onto his feet. Looking once more at Dean, the former sailor traversed deeper into the jungle-like terrain.

Cautiously Castiel carried on with his exploration, treading carefully over emerald grass and thick tree roots that decorated the floor. His eyes searched everywhere, taking note of every tree trunk, the way the dimming light from the sun shot through the canopy. Occasionally there was the stirring of leaves, and that same noise that was growing nearer with each step.

Finally the former sailor broke through the dense foliage into a rather lovely area. The ground was coated in grass which lay low and small. A small tree sat in the middle, its branches low and easy to climb if one were to try. It was decorated with green leaves, but upon further examination Castiel saw that they had more of a yellow aspect to them. Approaching the tree, Castiel spotted a rough looking set of cuts made on the trunk.

But Castiel was distracted as a growling of an intimidating sort snarled from behind him. Tense and desperate for his faithful blade, Castiel slowly turned around, his eyes spotting the hidden mass of something behind one of the trees.

The figure sprung from its hiding spot.

It seemed endless, the constant interrogation of knowledge, followed with an unpleasant end for those who fell victim to Dean's ruthlessness. There was no arguing from Benny, though his opinions on the matter were easily revealed in his glances.

Dean was a hunter. The man who he was in this place was not man nor demon, but the lines were becoming more and more distinct, and the clearer it was to see that this was not a judgement of who he was now. Despite Dean's lack of knowledge as to the current event taking place, it struck a chord with him that this was it. Him, turning into the monster that now irritably resided in the box. With each slaughter, the pirate was driven closer towards the overwhelming, twisted excuse for a soul. And it scared the crap out of him. The pirate was filled with despair upon each man that fell at his hand, craving to be freed from this horrific nightmare.

His body, his cruel, corrupted body now sat across from Benny, the two separated by the small fire. Both were silent, Benny now staring at the worn picture while Dean simply gazed into the flames. The light provided from the fire cast a shadow on some feature's of Dean's face, just as it seemed to reveal the shadows circling his shredded excuse for a human soul. A cough from Benny received Dean's attention, and the companion gave a small smile.

"I'll take first watch, you get some shut eye."

Rather than respond, Dean nodded to hide the small yawn that had formed in his body. Even as he drove closer to the darkness, Dean's body was still human. The pirate was tense as he felt his body lay down, weapon never quite out of reach. Shutting his eyes, Dean was enveloped in the discomforting shadows.

But soon the darkness was overwhelmed as a white flash dispelled the shadows, and Dean opened his eyes.

The action shocked the pirate, and he confirmed the ability to move his body by blinking several times. After affirming this, Dean looked around relieved to find himself no longer in the forest bathed in blood.

Instead he lay at the edge of a different forest, familiar like the one he had occupied. Scattered pieces of memories came together, and quickly Dean could recall everything. Meg, the Impala, jumping, Cas.

Thoughts of the former sailor and his condition drove Dean quickly to his feet, relishing the control of his own movements. Green eyes searching for the sight of blue eyes or that familiar tan coat, Dean felt a pit in his stomach begin to form. The pirate was unable to make out much in the lack of light provided by the night.

"Friggin hate all of this dark crap," Dean muttered before he began to tread through the forest. The placements of his footsteps felt all too familiar, his hands placing themselves on tree trunks that he knew would be there despite his lack of sight. But Dean could prefer this forest over the other, and he could only appreciate his familiarity with the terrain as he searched for his companion.

"Cas?" he shouted, listening for the sounds of the stranger sailor or for any of the species of the island. Reminded of such creatures, Dean promptly glanced about to try and locate a possible weapon, but no such luck would bestow upon him the smallest of safety measures.

"Typical, stupid island," he muttered grudgingly as he continued to tread along, calling out to Castiel while no reply was given.

It was once that Dean had reached furthest into the island that he began to hear them more. There smallest shifting of fallen leaves caused by their footsteps, warning noises coming from the very depths of their throats. Dean did his best to calm his increasingly rapid heartbeat. Their intentions were unknown, their orders also unknown, and the fact that Dean didn't know if they were a threat drove him insane.

"Stupid island," he gritted his teeth and continued to march on, ignoring the wild beasts. As he continued, the growing familiarity of the environment began to allow Dean to see just where his feet were carrying him. Realizing this, Anxiety appeared and gladly took Dean's hand, and together the two strolled through the dark forest.

A shout that came from exactly where Dean was headed caused him to freeze for only a moment before breaking into a sprint.

"Cas!" the pirate tried calling out to the former sailor once more, racing while he tried to avoid the bothersome tree roots. Finding his feet, Dean flew across the terrain while flashes of his victims from the memory played in his mind. Their wounds, the pleasure his body had felt when doing so, it sent Dean's blood pumping.

With a final burst of speed Dean landed into the familiar clearing where his tree sat in the middle, and his eyes found the familiar tan coat underneath the huge mass of a dog.

"Cas!"

To be continued...