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Dean woke up early the next morning. Sam and Eileen were still asleep in the bunker. Dean sauntered off to the bathroom and took a much needed shower. The hot spray against his back did as much good as possible what with the now constant ache in his muscles from getting very little sleep. He didn't take too long since he didn't know when Sam would be up and he didn't want to accidentally flash his little brother, so he stepped out of the shower and tossed a towel around his waist.
The steam of the room covered the mirrors, but he couldn't bring himself to look up. Last time he saw Cas, he couldn't stand to see him again. So close, yet so far away.
He went about trying to have an overall normal morning. He made breakfast and coffee. He smiled when Eileen walked in sleepily and said that Sam was still sleeping. And then Dean decided he needed to go.
He's not exactly sure what brought on his sudden need to leave, but it wasn't an urgent sad like it was the last time. He already had a destination in mind. He took the Impala and drove for a few hours until he ended up at a beach. It was a fairly large beach, and looked even bigger without many people there. He pulled out his cooler and walked over the lot and down the set of concrete stairs to get to the sand. As soon as his boot clad feet hit the ground, he stopped. He wanted to experience his first time at the beach like he always said he would. Toes in the sand. He took off his shoes and walked forward towards the sound of the crashing water.
The little grains between his feet felt weird, but he found it grounding. He thought briefly about how he never went to the beach as a kid. John was always on a case, but they were never near a coast, and if they were, Dean had to watch Sam. If Dean ever wanted to go swimming in his youth, lakes and waterholes was where he went.
Dean thought about his friends when he lived in Nevada for a while, way back in 1994. Toes in the harsh sand at the lake with his friends. That night Dean was beat so hard he ended with a broken arm, had to get stitches on his forehead. A concussion and several bruises that littered his face and stomach. Dean learned, don't mess with boys.
The memory was a bitter one, so he shoved it down and grabbed a beer out of his cooler. He sat right down in the sand and watched the early morning sky as the sound of water crashed along the shore. The sand was wet against his denim. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket but he ignore it. He just wanted to ignore the world right now. The smell of the water was placating. Dean closed his eyes and just breathed for a moment. When he opened his eyes he had to adjust to the brightness of the cool sun in the water. He looked over at a group of little kids playing in the sand and smiled to himself. He watched them for a moment before far off his eyes caught the attention of someone else.
He could have sworn he saw Cas. But when he looked again, he was gone. Like he just vanished. And suddenly the beach was no longer calming.
He sighed and took his phone out of his back pocket and checked the message.
Sam:
Get back to the bunker ASAP. I think I have a way to get Cas back.
Dean blinked at the screen, his heart rate speeding before shutting off his phone. He grabbed his cooler, leaving his half full beer behind in the sand. He shoved his boots back on and ran up the steps to the lot where his car was waiting for him. He threw his stuff in the back, ignoring the remnants of sand still clinging to him and hopped in the drivers seat. He ripped out of the parking lot and sped back towards the bunker.
He made it back in a little under an hour and loudly entered the bunker. Sam and Eileen were digging through books on the shelves when he came down the stairs.
