It’s safe to say Dean’s life has gone to more shit than usual.

Without the help of Sam, hunts have gotten more difficult..Without Sam, Dean was…alone. Castiel was nowhere and that was all he had left at this moment. After a few drinks, he found himself praying for the angel- the guidance, what he needed to do. However the rip of sound and shift of air was a tale-tell sign of a different angel, if an angel at all.

There he was, an Arch Angel, towering over Dean’s knelt and intoxicated form. Dean fell silent, looking up at him, “..Who the hell’re you?-..” He slurred, stumbling to his feet, grasping at the motel’s wooden furniture with calloused hands. “You ain’t Cas- why the hell’re you here?!” He’d say through his teeth as the figure reached out for him.

Suddenly, he awoke in his motel bed with a harsh breath and surprisingly, a lack of a hangover…Last night felt so much like a nightmare that Dean chalked it up to one or a vision.

Dean found himself at a bar, watching the people when he made eye contact with a man across the room. He immediately recognized him despite the shadow over his face when they met last night. However, with a blink of the eye he was gone and all that hinted at his existence was a swinging door. Like hell Dean was going to let this go.