The Devil's in the Details, Part 1

One evening Dean's baby brother walked out the door to get burgers and never came back.

Dean called his brother after the first hour and a half. Sure, Sam was a big boy now who could take care of himself, blah blah blah, but the craziness of the past couple of months had put Dean on constant guard. Demons, hunters, alternate dimension monsters from the future, they all wanted a piece of the Winchester brothers. And Sam knew this, for all his bitching about Dean being overprotective. He'd give Dean a heads-up if he planned to stay out. Right? Right.

So it wasn't a total surprise when the call went to voicemail. As soon as he finished his message, Dean grabbed his coat and headed out. The burger place was fifteen minutes away on foot. Dean walked slow, looking all around for tracks, blood, signs for a struggle, anything. Zip, zero, zilch. And the guys at the burger place hadn't seen an oversized twenty-something, either. Dean called again--nothing. He went back over the way to the burger place, checked both sides of the road, the intersecting streets, called again. Nothing. So he walked back to the hotel, got in the Impala, drove all over town. Nothing.

Had Sam run off again? If he had Dean would throttle the life out of his little brother himself. That first time Sam had been pretty shaken up when Dean had told him about Dad's last words, so he left to find the other special children. This time...well, a lunatic had crash landed into their lives about two weeks ago predicting death for Dean and insanity for Sam. Castiel was enough to give anyone the creeps, but they hadn't seen or spoken to him since they had left him at Bobby's house. Dean couldn't think of anything in the past day or two that might have set Sam off.

The first rays of sunshine were peeking over the horizon in the east by the time Dean made it back to the motel. Dean called up Ellen; Sam had gone there last time, and it was closer than Bobby's place. She chewed him out for calling her so early but cooled down when he explained. "I'll keep my eyes open for him, Dean."

"Thanks. And if you hear anything--"

"Course I'll call you. You know that."

"Thanks, Ellen." He hung up and dialed Bobby.

One ring and then the click of Bobby picking up. "Hello," said a raspy, distinctly un-Bobby voice.

Dean buried his face in his other hand. Of course he'd get the nutjob. "Castiel, put Bobby on the phone."

"It's 6:02. Bobby's asleep. What's the matter?"

Fuck. Castiel would probably hunt and kill Sam himself if he heard the news. "Nothing's wrong. I gotta check on something with Bobby for a hunt. We're working on a time limit here."

"Tell me the problem, I can help."

Dean bit back a biting remark. "Just put Bobby on," he sighed.

"I'm not gonna wake him at this hour! That'd be rude. I can tell you whatever you need."

"You're not my friend," Dean said savagely. Silence at the other end. Shit, he was probably going to hang up. "Okay, okay, that was out of line. I'm sorry. Just...put Bobby on the phone, okay?"

"...Thank you, Dean."

"What?

"For apologizing," Castiel snapped. Dean felt a pang of guilt as he recalled his many unpleasant exchanges with the guy over the previous week, most of which had been his own fault. Crazy as Castiel was, he had been pretty submissive after Dean caught him in Sam's hospital room with a scalpel. "Give me the address of whatever crappy motel you're staying at, and I'll wake Bobby up."

Dean dug up the hotel stationary from the bedside table and read out the address. A clunk sounded over the phone; a couple of minutes later Bobby picked up. "What the hell's the matter, Dean? It's six in the morning."

He quieted down when Dean told him about Sam. They spent a good twenty minutes discussing the situation but had not come up with any answers by the end of the conversation. Dean hung up and slumped back on his bed. For the first time he felt the exhaustion coming from the lack of sleep.

Someone knocked on the door. He ignored it. The knocking continued. "Wrong room, you stupid son of a bitch!" The jackass at the door kept knocking, so he got up and yanked the door open, ready to let loose all the shit that had built up in him since Sam's disappearance.

Castiel stood at the doorstep, fist raised. Dean stared. "What the fuck." And then, "How?"

"I flew." Castiel pushed past him into the room. "What's the problem?" He looked around. "Where's Sam?"

"Getting breakfast," Dean growled. This was the last thing he needed, the last fucking thing. He grabbed Castiel's arm to throw him out of the room but it was like pulling on a wall. "You really can't get a clue, can you?"

"Getting it loud and clear, just don't care. You call Bobby early in the morning, Sam's absent--it's easy to do the math. What happened?" Castiel fixed Dean with one of those intense stares, the kind that made him feel like the deepest and darkest parts of him were exposed. It was enough to make him let go and back up a step, but he kept his mouth shut. The other man sighed. "What do I have to do to get you to trust me?"

He did not have time for this shit. "I've seen the way you look at Sam, like he's some kind of monster. I don't let people like that near my brother."

"I admit I find Sam...disconcerting, but I will not hurt him when we find him. I swear it," Castiel said with such a straight face that Dean could almost believe him. Instead he folded his arms and set his own stare on the other man for a minute, two minutes, until Castiel dropped his eyes. "Sam was Azazel's proxy in my world," he said eventually. "I told you how Azazel possessed your father. He took the counterparts of you and your brother prisoner and broke them entirely." And this time he did look up to meet Dean's gaze. "I would like to keep that from happening again."

"Yeah, by slitting his throat. I'm not stupid, you know. The only reason you haven't gone after Sam is because of me, because you think I'm...I don't know, it's pretty creepy." The admission made Dean feel inexplicably embarrassed. He didn't like the way Castiel looked at him, didn't like the expectations hiding in those blue eyes.

If Dean was embarrassed, Castiel was mortified. He flushed a deep red and sat suddenly on the bed farthest from Dean. "I am sorry," he muttered. "It is not fair--" He broke off and shook his head as if to brush away some thought. After a moment he repeated in a louder voice, "I am sorry. I judged your brother too quickly. To be honest, I don't know much about the nature of the special kids before they came into their powers. By the time I came to Earth, Sam had already murdered all of the other children. If your Sam rejects his powers, it's possible that he could hold on to his sanity."

The first piece of good news in months. It wasn't much, but Dean still perked up. "How does he do that?"

"He can never use his powers. Consciously, I mean--I doubt the visions will cause any real damage. Anyway, it is important that he stays safe so he isn't tempted." Castiel gave Dean an expectant look.

Dean sighed. Thought of Ava, of Yellow-eyes, of Castiel's many powers. Might as well put him to use. "Get in the car, I'll explain while we drive."