Foreword: This popped into my head a few days ago and I decided to roll with it. Set after Season 6 finale so spoilers for the whole show.

This story will contain lots of angst, Sam/Gabriel love, Dean being his mopey self, and God!Castiel. If everything goes well, there may even be Dean/Castiel. And a few more surprises. Will be primarily a slash fic, but since Dean is, well Dean there will be brief straight parts. Don't worry, I won't bother you too much with that. It's just part of the story before we get to the fun bits.

Chapter 1

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Dean literally couldn't think with how hard his heart was pounding in his ears and throat. All he could taste was the rapid pulse and could only hear the blood roaring through his ears. He finally had a moment to comprehend and it took everything in him just to breathe.

After Castiel had made that horrific ultimatum, something -fucking something- had zapped the three of them out of there. Dean felt the same upward, sick pull from when he and Sam had been rescued from Lucifer breaking out of his cage. And now it had happened again, and they were safe. At least, he really fucking hoped it had taken all three of them to safety; he hadn't seen Bobby or Sam but it was way-too-fucking-much-at-once and he needed to focus on getting himself calmed down to think. The last thing he needed was more survivors' guilt piled on when he should be focusing on making sure Castiel didn't find them. What the hell kept deciding he needed to be pulled out of life threatening situations?

Dean grimaced, realizing that being alone in a room with Cas was now a life threatening situation. Fuck, Cas was dark side now. He had opened Purgatory and ate those souls. And that cold, heartless look Cas had given him…

Dean considered himself pretty strong. He could handle blood in his face and seeing guts, hell he could handle watching his friends die with at least a sense of dignified remorse. But that realization that Cas had… the eldest Winchester felt his knees give out as he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the pavement below.

He wiped his mouth roughly and rested his head against the brick wall, his breath finally calm enough to process. He looked blearily around, keeping out the thought of Cas for now. It certainly wasn't the town they had been in; it was colder, and drier. He saw a bright neon sign in the distance and squinted to get a look; Salt Lake County Inn. Utah, he was blown to Utah. Well at least it was far away.

Dean turned his head to look down the alley he was by. Knowing it was probably stupid he called out for Sam, and then Bobby; his voice was scratchy from the bile but he kept calling. He heard nothing. Dean sighed and fiddled with his phone, calling Sam. He really wasn't surprised it went straight to voicemail but it still made his stomach drop and tighten into a knot. If he lost Sammy because of this Dean didn't know what he would do. Dean dropped his hand for a moment, then worked up the will to call Bobby.

Dean was startled upright when he heard the line pick up and Bobby's familiar voice say, "Dean?"

"Oh thank-" Dean started, then ground his palm into his head. Can't really thank Him now, can he?

"Thank goodness you're alright Bobby," Dean tried again breathlessly.

"You too, boy," Bobby replied softly, "What the hell happened?"

"I…I haven't a clue," Dean said, "It reminded me of when ol' Luce broke out. Bright lights and then Sam and I were gone. Where are you, Bobby?"

A small, disbelieving sigh crackled through the phone, and Bobby said, "I'm home, Dean. Planted right in my chair."

"Holy shit."

"Why, where are you?"

"I, uhm. I think I'm near Salt Lake City."

"Utah?"

"Yeah, and I-. I can't find Sammy, Bobby," Dean said and didn't even try to deny his voice cracked.

"Well get lookin' boy. I doubt whatever saved us would save me and not him. Hopefully he's nearby, but apparently this thing's shooting range is out of whack."

Dean smiled a little, "Okay Bobby. I'll call when I find him."

"You better," Bobby said. Dean could tell he wanted to say more, and he knew exactly what about. But the hunter did not want to hear it. There was time for it later. The line went dead on Bobby's end and Dean slid the phone shut. Without to aim or reason Dean walked down the alley and out onto a main street, the town more or less dead with how late it was –Dean figured it was late, but who knew if time had been messed with when they shifted-, so Dean didn't get weird looks from the sparse people as he look down alleys and called for Sam.

Just when he was giving up hope and deciding to shack up in a motel for the night, he heard a low groan from a small pass between two stores. Dean didn't even think it could be anything else than what he hoped and sprinted down the wrecked alley. He saw a collapsed form near the end and immediately recognized the huge body and mop of hair that was Sam Winchester.

"Sammy!" Dean called. He dropped down on his knees and cupped his brother's face, looking for signs of injury and thankfully found none. A strange sense of relief and fear washed over him at once, leaving him dizzy and thick mouthed. Sammy was alive, Sammy was safe but shit- Sammy had all his memories from Hell bombarding him now. It was a miracle he had made it to them in the first place.

"Sam, come on, open your eyes man," Dean whispered, unashamed of his worried and shaky voice. Now was not the time to be fucking macho, even with no external injuries his little brother looked almost dead. His skin and lips were pale and his eyes were dark, and his breathing, although there, was weak and shallow.

Slowly Sam opened his eyes, looking up at Dean first with confusion, and then disbelief.

"Dean?" Sam said, and his voice was so quiet that if he hadn't seen his lips moved we would have thought he imagined it. Dean couldn't help a small grin and tried to pull Sam upright. Suddenly Sam's eyes got wide and he fucking screamed.

"No! Nonono, please don't do it again! Dean! Dean!"

Dean went pale and tried to hold Sam still but he was scratching and pulling at Dean's clothes until it hurt, almost as if trying to keep him away from something that wasn't there.

"Sammy! Come on Sam, I'm here! Calm down!" Dean tried to yell over his voice was Sam was too loud; tears leaked from his eyes and Dean didn't think he could ever wipe the image of pure horror on Sam's face out of his mind. He was still screaming and even in the dead of night someone was going to come looking soon. So Dean did the only thing he could think of.

He punched Sam out cold.

Granted, probably one of the worst things he could have done, but Dean had no idea what to do for someone who was remembering the Pit. Dean still had nightmares of hell. At least now he could transport him. Despite Sam's size Dean was strong, and he managed to balance Sam over his shoulder and in his arms, and carried him out of the alley. Luckily there was a motel close by and he didn't have to walk far.

After making up a story even the sorriest sap could never believe -that Sam had one too many drinks and they needed a room, complete with his voice shaking too much and his eyes betraying probably everything-, the motel clerk reluctantly handed him the key and he got Sam into the room and in bed. Even in sleep Sam looked awful.

As quietly as he could Dean locked himself in the bathroom and stared down a the floor. The tiles were clean but faded, and a large mirror took up the wall that Dean refused to look in. He didn't want to see what his face looked like. Dean dialed Bobby and the he picked up on the first ring.

"You find him?" Bobby asked immediately.

"Yeah Bobby, but uh," Dean swallowed hard and looked up at the ceiling, "He's not good man. He's wrecked. I…I don't know what do to."

"Stay there Dean, I'm on my way. You figure out the town yet?"

"Yeah. I'm in Murray. I uh," Dean snorted bitterly, "I'm not really sure what you can do. I don't know what do. I mean, I was in hell and it was bad but Sam-"

"Dean," Bobby said curtly, cutting off Dean's small rant.

"Yeah Bobby?"

"Stop acting like a damn girl, we're going to fix your brother. That kid is tougher than you think."

Dean smiled a little weakly, and it faded as soon as it came. He spoke the next quietly, not even sure he wanted Bobby to hear him.

"You didn't see his face."

Bobby was quiet for a moment, then repeated, "We're gonna fix him Dean. Hang tight, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"See ya Bobby," Dean muttered softly, clicking the phone shut and sliding it listlessly into his pocket. He waited a few moments before exiting the bathroom, walking over to the empty bed and just sitting on it. Like hell Dean could sleep now. He kept a vigil over Sam while he slept, flinching every time he heard Sam whimper and writhe. Guilt and helplessness clawed open his heart and everything in him wished he could do something to help Sam. But there was nothing he could do. Cas had ripped down the wall. Castiel had done this to Sam. Castiel.

Dean felt sick to his stomach again and closed his eyes, willing the nausea away. His head was spinning again and he didn't know if he'd ever be ready to deal with everything that had happened that night. He bit into his palm to muffle a sob, because Dean didn't ever fucking cry, and just wondered why.

A/n: Well, there's chapter one. Tell me that you think! I don't know if I'm happy with this or not, and I would really love feedback on whether or not I should continue this, what I can change if anything, or if I should admit to my failure as a writer and go back to derping around in art. I've never had a Beta and in all honesty, I don't know how it works. So this is just me and my over analytical eye. Sorry if my grammar sucks somewhere.