Some Nights

Out Of Touch

caution: contains the spanking of a distraught Moose.

"Jack?" The young man stirred as Sam gently gripped his arm. "Wake up, Jack."

Jack's eyes slowly opened, focusing on Sam. "Sam? What...why are you in my room?"

Sam straightened up, pushing his hair back from his face. "I have a case I want you to help me with."

"A case?"

Jack sat up, his eyes narrowing at Sam in confusion. It was an action that reminded Sam of Cas, and he felt a pang straight to the heart. He breathed through it, and offered a smile he hoped was sincere. The month since the angel's passing was hard, especially seeing his brother and Jack's reaction. Jack was undoubtedly sad, but seeing as he was on this earth for a month, the young man had a hard time expressing the feelings, or understanding why he should. Dean, Sam chewed on the corner of his lip as his brother popped into mind, was going through the motions. You could see it in his face. He was so tired lately, and only came out of his room to drink, or eat, or to find a minor case that didn't take much. Sam wished he could find a way to help him, but the only thing that came to mind was getting their mother back from the Apocalypse World. He needed Jack for that, but Jack didn't have a handle on his powers yet. Anytime he tried to mention it to Dean, his head was nearly bitten off.

I'm not giving up. She is alive. I KNOW it. She has to be.

"Yes." Sam told Jack.

It was two o'clock in the a.m when Sam drove the Impala steadily out of the garage, only once feeling the pang of guilt at taking his brother's car without Dean's consent, or even leaving a note to where they were going, but Dean would just disagree to Sam trying to hunt with Jack, even if it were to sharpen his powers, so Sam was going to have to do it his way.

*********************

"CAS!" Dean jerked awake, sweat pouring down his forehead. He looked around, clutching the blankets on the bed until his fists were white knuckled.

It was always the same dream. Cas stepped through the portal, his half smile already playing on his face, but then Lucifer steps up behind him, sticking the angel blade through his best friend's body. Dean choked back a sob, leaning back against the wall, covering his face with his hands until he got a grip on himself. It was taking longer than usual though. Normally he could shut down the feelings, get the rest of the job done and not think about his best friend who had a hunter's burial not even a full month ago.

You deserved better, Cas.

Dean worked through another sob, and slowly climbed out of the bed. No use in pretending he could go back to sleep. He knew how to fix this, and his hands trembled for the one constant, something solid in his hands, preferably glass and filled with alcohol. He walked unsteadily down to the kitchen, finding one of the many cases of beer in the giant fridge, and popped off the lid. Dean already felt calmer by the time he lifted the bottle to his lips, downing half of it in one breath. 

By the time he was walking back to his room, a beer in each in hand, he felt steadier, a numb sort of calm had washed over him. Cas was gone, and there was nothing they could do about it. Now they had to deal with Jack. Dean walked past his room, and stopped outside of the room that Sam gave Jack. He never knew what to do with the urge to check in on the Nephilim. If it was a protective gesture, or a defensive one, he had no idea, but all the same, he pushed the door opened, looking in.

There was a certain feel to a room when it's empty. Almost as if the essence was missing as well. Dean flipped on the light with a dead certainty that he wasn't going to find Jack asleep in bed. The covers were flipped down, the dent of the boy's form was still on the bed.