Kate…

I woke with a start.

Nonono, that's not really accurate.

I woke with my heart hammering, sweaty armpits, and an inability to breathe at a normal rate. I jumped, immediately falling off the seat and onto the floor, the middle of my back slamming into the hump separating the two footwells.

That was more accurate.

My brain tried like hell to remember what I dreamt. Lucifer? Hell? One of the jumps?

"Kate?! You okay?" Dean's tone was concerned and stunned, but there was a thick layer of amusement mixed in.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm fine." I grumbled, hauling my ass back onto the seat.

Sam (thank God I didn't have to call him Sammy on this trip) twisted around, looking me over. He caught me rubbing my back. I felt my cheeks burn, and he probably saw that, too. "What were you dreaming?" He used this soft voice that conveyed concern, but hid something more. It nagged at the back of my mind, but I dismissed it as another one of those Poor, Kate tones I'd been listening to for a while.

I shrugged, flopping against the door and pressing my forehead against the glass. Closing my eyes, I muttered, "I dunno." I wasn't lying. I honestly couldn't remember.

Then Sam said something weird. "You wanna call him?"

My eyes snapped open in time to catch Dean's sideways glance. "Call who? Cas?"

Jesus Christ, why'd I say Cas?

Because you call Cas in your sleep all the fucking time.

But did Sam know that?

Shaking his head, Sam said, "No. Your other Sam."

It took me a few seconds to process what he said. Partly because it didn't make sense. And partly because it really didn't make sense. I stared at him. "Why would I call him for falling off the back seat?"

Sam shook his head again with a soft snort. "Nevermind." He turned back around.

Ooooo-kay.

I cleared my throat. "Where are we?"

"About an hour left," Dean said, quickly looking over his shoulder at me. "You sure you're okay?"

I gave him a look...

...which he pointedly ignored. "Must've been some dream," was all he said.

Sighing, I looked out the window at the scenery blurring past. I couldn't remember any details at all, just a feeling of guilt and worry gnawing at me. It was fading, which was good, but the remaining bits left me uneasy.

I almost missed Dean's next question. "So. What really happened at this crypt?"

Wetting my lips, I asked, "What do you mean?"

Sam slightly turned his head toward the back seat. "You were kind of vague when we talked last night. You said it was crazy, Cas was ordered to make you feel distant from them, Crowley was there and a demon died. Before we go into this...even though we're not in the same reality, we should know as much as possible."

Blowing out a breath, I stared back out the window. He was right. Telling them as much as possible could potentially help. Keeping them in the dark didn't do anyone any good, other than sparing me from relaying another story. So I got it - they needed the info.

But I also suspected curiosity masked as "need to know" information. Which also...wasn't really a bad thing, either.

Even though it did feel a little shady.

I dragged myself forward, until my chin rested on the front seat. "I don't know anything specific about the actual crypt. I wasn't there. I do know that the crypt was discovered by accident. We went to Lincoln Springs because a body was found with burned out eyes. It was a local historian, obsessed with locating information about the town's original layout. Turned out she was possessed by a demon. Crowley wanted the angel tablet, and suspected that Lucifer hid it in a crypt."

"Wait...if Crowley was looking for the tablet, who burned out her eyes? Isn't that an angel thing?" Dean was watching me through the rear view mirror.

And here we go. "Yeah."

"Yeah, what?"

"It was Cas."

Sam turned around. "Come again?"

I sighed again. "I told you Cas was being controlled by another angel in heaven, Naomi. She was making him also search for the tablet."

"Jesus...angels are turning out to be giant assholes," Dean muttered, reminding me of what my other Dean told me when I first got my memory back. Dickbag angels come a dime a dozen, and they don't know how to leave shit alone.

"I know. Not all of them...but...yeah." I wasn't going to throw my Cas in that pile. "But you know, it wasn't his fault. He...he wasn't in control of his actions." My mind wandered back to that night...almost forgetting where I was now. "When he and Dean went to the crypt, I remember staying in the motel room, wondering what was going on."

"Why didn't you go?"

I relayed it all in a somewhat disinterested tone, feeling like one of those summaries you read on a book jacket. But inside, all the emotions of that night rose to the surface as I remembered how Cas purposefully pushed me away from those brothers. Now I did feel like calling my other Sam.

The Impala hit a bump. Dean swore, and I remembered where I was, who I was with, and that all of that was over a year ago. I ran a hand over my mouth (excellent...no drool!), and mentally shook myself. "But once Cas was free of Naomi, he cleared up all the misunderstandings, we scrambled out of town, and Kevin translated the second trial."

And, scene.

Sam folded his arms. "So the real reason we're going to this crypt is because…"

"Because it's painful for them to go. There's no difference between the two that we know of, right? So it doesn't matter who goes to which. Besides...there might not even be a crypt here." I might have snapped off that answer.

A bit.

Maybe.

But seriously. It didn't matter who went where. We were going off alternate reality information. But if some of that alternate reality information was hurtful, why not avoid making it worse?

Sam huffed through his nose, but said nothing. In fact, he didn't say much more the rest of the drive.

And neither did I.

xxxxx

I decided to pretend nap the rest of the way into town. Bringing up those memories left me in a mood, so keeping some distance was the best way to not tank this entire trip. I opened my eyes when Dean parked the car and turned off the ignition.

A tacky sign for a Lodging Motel greeted me, flashing intermittently in the sunset. I choke-laughed.

"What?" Dean asked, glancing over his shoulder at me.

"This is where we stayed," I said, remembering the tackily lit sign.

"Huh," Dean answered, squinting out the window at the front lobby. "Apparently I have good taste in every reality. I'll get a room. Be right back."

The door protested as it opened and closed, leaving me and Sam alone in the car.

In silence.

In dead silence.

Something was wrong. Sam and I never sat in dead silence.

Like, ever.

But there we were, the only sounds coming from the Impala, slowly settling down after our long trip. I tried to come up with something to say, but nothing came to mind. I was still a little miffed at the tone from earlier, yeah, but...a little panic began to blossom. This never happened before - we always talked and shared and -

"I still don't get how ThatSam could be upset over the death of a demon, who you said killed so many people we know and love."

Ouch.

My brain clogged up with potential answers to the statement that was, by the second, turning into an accusation of some sort. What could I share? What should I share? Did it matter? Was it a question ThatSam should answer? Was it my place to comment at all?

I thought I was doing the right thing by taking a minute to think through the different responses. But apparently, I was the only one who thought that.

"Right. I'm gonna go see what's taking Dean so long."

The car door opened, squealed shut, and I was alone in the Impala.

Fuck…

I stared after him, mouth hung open a little, trying like hell to suss out what I did to deserve the shitty attitude. I kind of agreed with him - Meg was an asshole, plain and simple. But so was Crowley, right? And he changed. So...perhaps something shifted in Meg as well. I didn't know - I never met her. But I trusted ThatSam's judgement.

Besides, I wasn't about to launch into her potential existence here, and her potential alliance with Azazel, and her potential desire to alienate MySam from me.

I debated how to respond. Go after him and have it out? Apologize for...something? Pretend it didn't happen?

They came outside, Dean handing Sam a key card before tucking his own in a pocket. Sam tossed his head a little, scattering hair out of his eyes. Dean snaked an arm around his shoulder, squeezing real quick before gently cuffing him. Sam rolled his eyes, knocking Dean with his elbow.

Sigh.

Pretend it didn't happen. My favorite option.

Sam's eyes flickered to me before getting in the car. I just blinked at him.

"Room twenty," Dean announced, starting the engine and neatly backing out of the parking spot. "Lemme guess. You stayed in that one." He shot me an amused glance over his shoulder.

I couldn't remember the room number, so I waited until he pulled up to it. "Nope...it was the one next door."

Dean barked a laugh. "Of course it was."

We grabbed our stuff and went inside. Layout was the same, but honestly, every motel's layout was the same, just different scratchy comforters and ratty carpet. I set the medkit on the floor in a corner and my bag on a recliner, determined to change into my pajamas and lounge away my headache.

Dean tossed his bag in a corner and stretched. "I'm starving. I'll go grab dinner and beer. We'll checkout the location during the day, see what's what."

"Sounds good," I answered, also stretching.

"I'll go with," Sam casually offered, shrugging into a jacket he snagged from the trunk.

Dean's eyes ping ponged between us before saying, "Yeah, okay. Be back soon, Kate."

Sam left without a backwards glance.

With a sigh, I plopped onto the chair, massaging my temples. Awesome. That's when I decided a shower would help pass the time until the next round of awkward gatherings.

xxxxx

The water pressure was pretty good, something I was confident Dean would mention after cleaning up. The warm water pummeled the muscles in my neck and shoulders, helping lessen the tension and headache that never seemed to go away. It'd been over a day since I left the wards, and the blood thrumming sensation was thankfully fading into the background, proving that the solution was a good one.

I sat on the edge of Dean's bed, passing a towel over my hair. I usually shared with Dean when we were on the road. Still couldn't call it "our" bed, though.

I was in the middle of rolling my eyes at myself when I felt the rustle of feathers. Castiel popped into view, eyes scanning the room.

"Hey Cas," I said, dropping my hands into my lap, smiling up at him.

When he realized we were alone, his shoulders relaxed. "Hello, Kate. How are you feeling?"

I shrugged, dragging my bag onto my lap. "Okay. Better, without the wards slamming against me. How about you?" I squinted up at him, trying to determine his level of recovery. I figured he'd be back to normal by now, but healing ThatSam sent him stumbling into the porch railing, so…

The corner of his mouth twitched. "I'm doing much better as well. I've been spending more time in Heaven, which has helped my grace replenish. I am pretty much back to normal, thank you." His hands tucked into the pockets of his trenchcoat.

I wasn't sure if he was dishing bullshit or not, and really, there was no way to tell. I just took his word for it. "Awesome."

"Where are your brothers?"

I waved a hand at the door. "Went to get dinner. We'll check out the crypt location tomorrow. It's late, we're tired, and...it's dark."

He nodded.

And then...yeah. More dead silence.

Since we were told to keep our distance, I'd been working hard to keep my Cas thoughts neutral. Here we were, alone in a hotel room, and I had to stare at my hands and think about different ways to tie knots.

I dunno - that's just what came to mind.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, his voice tinged with concern.

I just got my other Sam back and now we're separated and my Sam's acting weird and I miss the other Sam and feel guilty because I'm with these brothers and...I'd kind of like to kiss you...

"Yeah. Everything's fine. Just...any news on the others?" Staring at my hands was a stupid choice, so I looked up and plastered a fresh smile on my face, which he kind of frowned at because, right, Cas read me like an open book.

Cas shook his head. "No. Crowley and I agreed to maintain communication, but I have not heard from him yet."

I shifted and my bag dropped to the floor. Picking it back up, I unzipped it and began rooting around for a hairbrush.

"Kate?"

"Yeah?" I looked up at the angel, standing in the middle of this shitty motel room. Last time I was here with a Castiel…

"What can I do?"

That was not what I expected. "What do you mean?"

After a sharp exhale, Cas moved to sit on the opposite side of Dean's bed, keeping his distance physically, but his eyes locked onto mine, making his presence feel a lot closer. "To ease your mind."

Briefly, my eyes closed, and I took a steadying breath. When I opened them, I slowly let it out. "Nothing." His face fell. "But thank you."

We watched each other for a minute. I knew that he knew that there was more going on in my head than just Sam. Either of them. But what could I say? It was never the time to talk about...whatever he and I...I mean, we were…

...forbidden by Heaven, that's what he and I were. So nothing it was.

Lips pressed together, Cas ran a hand through his hair, scooting closer with this determined look on his face. "Look, Kate...I - "

The Impala's engine rumbled through the airwaves, filling the room with her arrival. Cas closed his eyes and sighed. With a flutter of feathers, he quickly moved across the room the instant the key slid through the lock, clicking and beeping the return of my brothers.

"Hey," Dean called out, spying me on the bed. "Got you grilled cheese. Wasn't sure what you'd tolerate." Then he caught sight of Cas. "Oh! Hey, Cas." He looked from me to Cas and back again. I saw gears turning and I shut that shit down immediately.

"Shove it, Dean," I growled, tossing the towel to the side. "He just got here."

Dean set down a twelve-pack of beer before raising his hands in mock surrender. "What? I didn't say anything." Behind him, Sam narrowed his eyes as he set two bags of food on the table.

Brow furrowed, Cas said, "I...don't understand."

Pushing past him with my hairbrush already digging through my hair, I muttered, "It's nothing. Ignore him."

From the bathroom, I could hear the three of them talking. No, Cas hadn't yet heard from Crowley. Yes, Cas will be watching the room tonight. No thank you, Cas did not want a chili hotdog.

Wait. Chili hotdog?

I poked my head into the room. "What did you order?"

Dean grinned. "Chili hotdogs! Footlongs, too."

Sam shook his head, setting up what looked like a chicken sandwich and fries.

"Are you kidding me? You know what those things do to you." Goddammit. I was supposed to share a bed with him tonight.

Dean waved the carryout menu at me. "It's a local treasure, Kate. A local. Treasure. How was I supposed to turn that down?"

"Got chili on the fries, tooooo," Sam sang, taking a bite out of his sandwich, giving me a bland look.

I pointed the brush at Dean. "You're a dick."

At this point, Cas was thoroughly confused, Dean was thoroughly defensive, and I was thoroughly annoyed.

Sam swallowed, picked up his drink and said, in this nonchalant tone around the straw, "Just share with me tonight." It was so...offhanded, that I thought I misunderstood. He even shrugged as he said it.

But there was Dean, gesturing grandly, like that was a brilliant solution. "Thanks, Sammy." Then he tucked into his food.

I narrowed my eyes at Sam, who simply returned to his food while avidly reading that menu propped against a paper bag. There was nothing on his face that gave away how he was feeling, so all I had were his words. I rarely shared with him. He flailed in his sleep. He knew that.

Castiel cleared his throat, sensing something was up. "I'm...going to check back in with Heaven. However, I will keep watch, and if you need me," he looked right at me, "just call."

Rolling my eyes, I tied my hair into something that could maybe pass for a bun. "You always know before I do, Cas. No wards, right? So I'm sure I'll be loud."

"Loud how?" Dean asked, his mouth impossibly full. How he picked up women in bars with food was beyond me.

"Loud none of your business," I snipped, dropping into a chair at the table and reaching for my dinner. At Dean's raised eyebrows and bulging cheeks, I added, in a softer tone, "I dream loud, okay?" The look on his face clearly said he had no idea what I meant.

Cas moved closer. "I could...you know...help you sleep…?" He sheepishly wiggled his fingers at me. I never should have started that finger movement thing.

Shaking my head, I opened my food container. "Noooooo, thank you. I don't want to be dead to the world." I paused, glancing up at him. "Just...you'll know if I'm...so just...you know."

There. Clear as mud.

But he understood, nodding his head, shoving his hands back in his pockets.

Sam, not missing a beat, murmured, "You'll be fine."

I was about to respond How would you know? when Cas said, "I will return in the morning." And he left.

Rather than having Dean's lip smacking dominate the room, I snagged the remote off the TV and turned on whatever wasn't trying to sell us something. We continued to eat, watching the tube, trying to ignore Dean's insane delight at his dinner.

"That was fucking amazing," he sighed, burping into one fist while the other brought a bottle of beer to his lips.

"You are fucking amazing," Sam quipped, shoving the last of his fries into his mouth.

After a long pull (through which he nodded), Dean belched yet again, and nodded at my dinner container. "And you, dear sis, ate almost a full meal." He waggled his eyebrows, shoved the garbage from dinner into a bag, and staggered to his feet. "Jesus, I'm so full. But it was worth it." Another burp. "Okay. I'm gonna sit on the bed and let this...settle."

I watched him heave to the bed, bouncing on it with a grunt. I turned to Sam. "How are we even related?"

Sam snorted, balling up his own garbage. "I suspect we aren't, actually." He paused, jutting his chin at my food. "You did eat a lot, though."

I looked down. A quarter sandwich and a few fries stared back. "I wasn't paying attention. Probably too distracted by him." I thumbed at Dean, who gave me a thumbs up in return.

"Well, it's good. Means staying in the garage was a good idea." He stood, clearing my garbage and shoving everything together. "I'll throw all this out."

When the door clicked shut behind him, I turned to Dean. "Hey. He seem okay to you?"

Dean's eyes dragged to mine. "When does he ever seem okay to you?"

"You know what I mean. He's been acting weird."

Dean's gaze flickered to the door. "I noticed. He hasn't said anything to me. Emo crap is your department."

I gave him a sour look. "Unless it's about me."

Dean's head tilted from side to side. "True. I dunno. He's been on his high horse - " I snorted. " - telling all of us to give you space and be more understanding about that other Sam being here. But today...I dunno. He's been kind of not that."

Not that?

I would've replied, but my phone rang. I dug it out from under some clothes I tossed on the chair.

OtherSam.

Fumbling in my haste to swipe a hello, I almost dropped the phone. "Hey…" That sounded casual, right? Not worried and anxious? Sure.

"Hey there. How's it going?"

"Good. We got in a little while ago...just ate dinner." I glanced at Dean who sat against the wall, one hand on his belly, the other unbuttoning his pants. We just can not be related. "You?"

"Another hour to go. We stopped for gas. How was the ride?"

"Fine, not much to report, really. Dean stuffed himself full of - "

"Lemme guess...chili dogs, right?"

I chuckled. "How'd you know?"

Sam snorted. "It took me a while to convince him that bringing chili into the room while you were still...unsettled...was a bad idea. He did eat one while we waited for the grilled cheese sandwiches, though. It was disgusting."

"Ha. Well, same here." Dean tossed me a questioning look to which I blithely smiled. "How're things with Dad?"

"Uh, good, actually. Crowley isn't in the truck, so it's just us. He, uh, had a lot of questions."

I bet he did. "Is it okay?" I could see Dad grilling Sam on a dozen different topics, including Mary, Sam's stint with Lucifer, Azazel, demon blood powers, and maybe...maybe how he died.

Erg.

"Yeah, it's good. We're actually...visiting. It's...yeah. I dunno. I don't think I've ever talked this much with him in my entire life. Figures I had to go to another reality to just have a conversation with my dad."

Somewhere in the middle of all that, MySam came back inside. He raised his eyebrows, but ended up answering his own question. How did I know? His face sort of fell when he figured who I was talking to and he stiffly moved to his bed.

Goddammit.

"Did you check out the warehouse yet?"

"No, it's dark and we're beat. And now Dean's too full to move." As if on cue, a disgusting sound came from Dean's side of the room. Let me be clear - it did not come from his mouth. Grimacing, I added, "And he isn't in a position to be stealthy. We're gonna look around tomorrow. I'll text when we find something out."

"Yeah, okay. Sounds good. You know, since you haven't dealt with yer, I doubt that Meg's around or anything else similar to when we were there, but keep your eyes open, just in case. If there is a crypt in town, demons may be guarding it. So just...be safe, okay?"

"Yeah...you too." I glanced up at Sam. At my words, he snatched his bag and stomped into the bathroom. The shower turned on, I imagined, in a huff. "I'll check in with you tomorrow."

We hung up.

I tapped my phone against my chin. Sam was definitely being pissy toward the Other Sam, despite being so understanding before. Something shifted his attitude, and I couldn't figure out what. He seemed fine with the decision to "move out". So what changed?

Honestly? I didn't have time for it. Bigger. Fish. OtherDean was missing, we could find information on the prophecies and maybe why demon blood is coursing through the huffy showerer. I needed to focus on that.

But...Sam was mad, and I didn't like it when Sam was mad. Particularly at me, and right before I was to share sleeping space.

That whole bigger fish metaphor got swallowed up by a million tiny, insecure, worried guppies.

After eating more food in one sitting than I had in a year, my gut felt like it was full of bricks, weighing me down. One glance at a glassy-eyed Dean, sprawled on his bed and I thought, with horror, did I look like that right now?

Egads.

With one last sigh, I dragged myself to Sam's bed (again, we're sharing, why wasn't it my bed, too?), set the phone on the nightstand, and crawled under the covers. Dean was too engrossed in a movie to say anything. Motel pipes creaked under the water pressure of Sam's shower, the only sound mingling with the TV.

I was not counting the occasional body noise emitting from my brother.

It wasn't much later that Sam emerged from a cloud of steam, clearly unconcerned about the amount of hot water used. Without looking at me, he turned off the lights and climbed into bed.

The TV's glow cast shadows on the walls and ceiling, flickering with the movement on screen. Mental deliberations began over getting up to brush my teeth, when Sam's arm snaked across my body, pulling me toward the center of the bed. He tucked close, arm locking me in place.

I froze, not expecting the sudden forced cuddling. I opened my mouth to ask what the hell was going on, when his leg tangled with mine.

Did Sam get possessed during his shower? Would muttering Christo ruin this apparent respite from the angst? The snarky questions paraded through my mind as I contemplated which to deliver.

But then...he swallowed hard, sniffed, and let out this...this ragged, exhausted sigh.

I...Goddammit.

I shifted a little to get more comfortable, which prompted a tighter squeeze, and we fell asleep.

xxxxx

When I woke, the room was dark, but it felt like morning. As in, time to get up morning. That meant I slept the whole night, which meant either Cas intervened or I had a good night on my own or...Sam, glued to my side, settled my unconscious brain.

Either way, I felt pretty good, stretching and twisting in an effort to loosen up. I was definitely feeling better. Not 100%, but better. Cuddling was great, even all night, but it left one's muscles a little cramped.

A note, scribbled on motel stationary in Dean's handwriting, informed me that the boys left for coffee and breakfast. At the bottom was a P.S. by Sam - Brush your teeth. I stuck out my tongue at the note. He's the one who death-gripped me in bed all night, preventing me from doing so.

Still, a quick run of my tongue over fuzzy teeth had me hoofing it to the bathroom right away.

By the time I was done cleaning up, they returned, chipper and seemingly in good spirits.

Dean gave me the once over as soon as I exited the bathroom. "How're you feeling?"

"What, no good morning?" I asked, shoving pajamas in my bag.

"Good morning stop being a bitch how're you feeling?"

Nice. "I feel good."

Double flat looks right at me.

"Okay...headache is still there, my limbs still tingle, I'm tired, and sometimes my vision blurs."

Sam blinked. "That's feeling good?"

I blinked back. "Compared to two days ago? Fuck, yes. What'd you get me? I'm starving."

Dean slid a wrapped sandwich across the table with a sigh. "Your usual. And coffee." Dammit, did he forget the - "And here are your hash browns. Don't throw a tantrum." He dug into a bag and pulled out the fried starch. Yesssssss.

I rushed over, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "Thank you. I love you soooo much." I winked at Sam before snagging my sandwich, grinning as Dean wiped the slobber off his face.

It felt normal. That was good, right? I wanted us to be normal again, and this definitely felt normal.

Sam pulled out a chair, indicating I should sit. "I did some research on the address."

"Yeah? What'd you find?"

Sam did that forehead crinkle thing. "It's weird. There are stores on either side of the address, but I'm not seeing a building there. I didn't get a reject on the address, but at the same time, there is nothing at that address."

Huh? Frowning, I unwrapped my breakfast. "Then…?" The smell of grease and meat did not set off my stomach, so I happily bit into the sandwich.

"Not sure," Dean said, thankfully swallowing before continuing. "We definitely need to take a look."

A knock at the door halted further conversation. We actually looked at each other as if one of us knew who was.

"It's Castiel."

Our expressions morphed into What The Hell? Dean got up, licking melted cheese off one hand, the other hastily wiped on his jeans before unlocking and opening the door. Cas stood there, awkwardly waving. "May I come in?"

Dean glanced at us over his shoulder before gesturing for Cas to enter. He was back in his traditional coat, hands thrust in his pockets.

"Uh, why didn't you just...you know...poof in here?" Sam asked. We all still stared at him, not understanding why he knocked.

Then I remembered him knocking at the apartment. Was this another attempt to not startle or upset us?

"Yes," Cas answered...out loud...to the question I posed to myself in my head.

I nodded. Sam asked, "Yes what?"

Fuck.

"Yes, I am trying to avoid upsetting people by...popping in. Your father expressed a distaste for that the other day."

Sam just nodded back, continuing to eat. Dean motioned for Cas to sit. "You, uh, want something to eat?"

"No, thank you. I do not require eating. I will sit with you, though."

There was a few moments of serious discomfort before I broke. "Sam looked up the address. Apparently, there's no building there, but the address exists. We'll have to check it out to see what's going on."

Cas frowned. "If it is a crypt, Lucifer may have taken measures to hide it."

Dean wadded up his wrapper. "Well, looks like we have an adventure on our hands. Finish up and let's get rolling."

xxxxx

Dean pulled up to the address, parking against the curb across the street. We all looked out the Impala's windows.

There it was. Plain, brick, two-story building. No signs, no nothing. On one side was a convenient store, which sat on the corner. On the other, a dry cleaners. Pedestrians walked past, not even giving it a second glance.

Dean squinted at it. "Well...the store's 311, the cleaners is 315. Nothing in between."

"Yeah, that's weird," Sam said, glancing at his laptop screen. "I don't...I don't get it."

Cas and I exchanged a look. "What are you talking about?" I asked. "It's right there, in between them."

Now Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "Uh...there's nothing there…"

We all looked to Cas, who was doing that deep staring thing. "Whether this is a crypt, I do not know. But someone took care to hide this building from humans."

"You see a building?" Sam asked, craning his neck in an attempt to see what we saw.

"Yeah…" I turned to Cas. "And I can see it because…" Cas finished my sentence with me. "...angel grace." I sighed. "Okay, well, any demons around? Or...other angels?"

Castiel's eyes went distant for a second. "No."

Dean slapped his thighs. "Alrighty, then. Let's take a closer look. Lead the way, because...I can't see a fucking thing."

We exited the car, trying to look casual. We crossed the street, looking this way and that, almost expecting a demon to yell, "Surprise!" just before stabbing us.

The closer we got, the more Sam and Dean squinted between the buildings.

"Anything?" I asked softly.

Sam shook his head. "No, nothing."

"What exactly do you see, Sam?" Cas asked.

"Well...it's like...I can see this store, and I can see the cleaners. If I try to look between them, everything goes blurry, and then my eyes just end up on the next building."

Dean peeked around the corner. "There's an alley in the back. Come on."

We trudged behind the buildings, grimacing at the puddle-ridden alley, lined with rusty dumpsters. The mystery building's door had what appeared to be a doorknob lock, fitted for a key.

"Still nothing?" I asked, "Because it's like, right there."

Dean stared at it, but it only lasted a couple seconds before his eyes danced away toward one of the businesses on either side. "Fuck, this is annoying. The harder I try to see it, the more I feel pushed away."

"So what do we do?" Sam asked, splaying his hands.

Again, we turned to Cas. "There are no wards that I can see," he said, "so that means the cloaking was done by a spell of some sort. I wonder…" An angel blade slid out of his sleeve, into his hand. He cautiously approached the door, touching the blade to the lock. There was a glow, then…

"Holy shit!" Dean exclaimed, jumping a little. When Sam shushed him, he added, in a softer tone, "I can see it now."

"Sam?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yeah...whoa...there it is. Okay, now what?"

Cas opened the door, looking at us over his shoulder. "We go inside."

After a quick glance up and down the street, I pulled my own angel blade, and we followed Cas through the door.