Castiel woke up to the feeling of another body next to him in the bed. He rolled over and was startled to see Dean's face inches from his. He was breathing deeply, still asleep.
Cas shifted slightly to look at Dean better. He looked completely normal. Nothing wrong at all.
Had the coma been a dream?
Still staring at Dean's face, the man's emerald eyes snapped open. Except they weren't emerald. They were black.
"D-dean?" Castiel said quietly, shuffling away from him.
"What's the matter, sweetheart? Something wrong?" Smirked Dean.
Cas stood up and backed away, only stopping after his back hit the wall.
Dean also stood up and walked towards Cas.
Castiel gasped as he noticed Dean's body. It was covered in deep cuts that were oozing dark, sticky blood. The sight made Cas' hands shake violently.
"Oh, these?" Dean said.
"These are from hunts. You know the ones. Where you were too late to come before I got hurt. So many times." He sighed.
"It's your fault, you know. All of this. It's all your fault. This wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you."
Castiel couldn't will himself to speak, his throat had gone dry and he couldn't move his mouth to respond.
"You're not Dean." He finally managed to say.
"Oh but I am." The man said, blood now dripping onto the floor.
"No you're not. Not my Dean. My Dean who's caring, sweet, hell he's a geeky son of a bitch but he's my Dean. And you're not." He said, trying to bring confidence in his voice.
"Well people change. And this is goodbye, dear Castiel." He raised his hand, a glistening dagger suddenly appearing in it.
In one sharp motion he swiped his arm down and plunged the dagger into Cas' chest.
Castiel woke up with a jolt. He was sitting bolt upright in the motel bed, drenched with sweat.
It was a dream.
A horrible nightmare. But then it hit him- he was living in a nightmare too. Dean was again in a coma.
He sighed, trying to hold back tears. He couldn't cry again.
Cas thought about everything said in the nightmare. How everything was his fault. He couldn't help but see the truth in that. He didnt get to Dean in time on the hunt, it was his fault.
Only then did he realise he was hyperventilating before calming down and willing himself to move.
Cas stood up and padded into the bathroom. He looked at his reflection in the mirror.
His electric blue hair was slicked to his forehead with sweat, his skin looked even paler than usual, his eyes had dark circles around them and noticeable bags from hardly any sleep and his icy blue eyes looked cold and emotionless.
He didn't feel himself. He felt wrong.
Trying to wash away the wrongness, Cas went in the shower and got dressed. But he still felt different.
He decided to call Sam and ask him over. He had something to tell him.