A/N: I know there's going to be a lot of these, but I wanted to write one too... so here we go! Just some extended scenes that I feel should've been in the episode. I like to think they're realistic. I just wish they'd shown more of Dean and Cas's relationship. More regret on Cas's part. But whatever xD Maybe I like angst and happy reunions. Enjoy!
Dean better find a way to help Cas though.
"It must be weird, not knowing who you are," Dean commented offhandedly, his eyes trained on the dark road ahead of him.
After a brief pause Cas, no, Emmanuel, responded. "Well, it's my life. It's a good life."
A good life? Dean thought skeptically. Who could not remembering who you were be a good thing? "Man, what if you were some kind of…" he hesitated, unsure how to phrase his next words. "I don't know, bad guy?"
Another brief pause. "I… I don't feel like a bad person."
Feeling eyes on the side of his face, Dean turned and caught Emmanuel's eye. If he only knew, Dean thought. Still, this amnesiac version of Cas held complete innocence in his eyes. This Cas truly was a good person— he went around healing people for Christ's sake. Which, for some reason, made Dean angry. That meant Cas had been alive for God knows how long, and he hadn't known. "Maybe you are a bad person," Dean continued, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Let's just say maybe."
"Why would I want to think that way?"
Dean glanced over at Emmanuel and, for God's sake, his head was tilted the exact way Cas used to do it. Even his eyes were slightly squinted. "I don't know man, that's why I said maybe."
"Then I…" Straightening his shoulders, Emmanuel stared Dean straight in the eye. "I would change myself. I would become a good guy."
Dean's eyes widened slightly.
"So, your brother…"
"Sam," Dean interjected automatically.
Emmanuel gave a quick nod. "Sam. What's his diagnosis?"
"Well…" Dean let out a little sigh. "It's not exactly medical." In fact, it was purely un-medical.
"That should be find," Emmanuel replied calmly. "I can cure illness of the spiritual origin."
"Spiritual?" Dean echoed, glancing over at him.
Emmanuel gave another slight nod.
"Okay…" Dean quickly turned away again. After a few seconds of hesitation, he felt the urge to bait this guy again, see if Emmanuel remembered anything. His Cas was somewhere inside that guy. "Someone did this to him." His jaw clenched, remembering how Cas hadn't even hesitated for a goddamn second before crushing his brother's wall.
"You're angry," Emmanuel responded, his words sending another rush of memories to Dean's head. Cas had said that to him once. Cas…
"Well, yeah, dude broke my brother's head," Dean told him snippily.
He frowned. "He betrayed you, this dude," he concluded. "He was your friend?"
Dean's eyes found Emmanuel's blue orbs once more, his throat constricting. Why didn't Cas remember? They had been more than friends, more like brothers. Why couldn't Cas remember that shit he pulled? Maybe this wasn't really Cas. Maybe this guy was just a Cas-doppelganger God decided to throw at Dean to fuck with his head. Maybe, but probably not. Cas was always God's favorite. There was a reason he was back. And a reason he didn't remember, so Dean had to play it safe for now. "Yeah, well, he's gone."
Emmanuel's piercing gaze never left Dean's face, even when Dean looked away. "Did you kill him?" It was merely a question. There was no hint of disgust, or illness behind the words.
Still, Dean looked at him in surprise.
"I sense you kill a lot of people," Emmanuel explained.
Dean could have smiled at that. Emmanuel had one thing right. But another wrong. "Honestly, I-I don't know if he is dead." Because you're him, a voice stated in the back of his mind. He sighed. "I just know that this whole thing couldn't be any messier. You know, I used to be able to just shake this stuff off? Yeah, whatever it was, it would take me some time, but… I always could" He didn't know why he was saying this to a stranger. Okay, it wasn't just any stranger, but still. Somehow, it felt good to get it off his chest. Just to tell someone. "What Cas did… I just can't. No way."
"Well, it doesn't matter why."
"Of course it matters," Dean snapped at him. There was a reason why Dean couldn't forgive and forget. He didn't know what it was, but there was one. And having Cas tell him it didn't matter why? It was bullshit.
"No, you're not a machine, Dean. You're human."
Dean. Emmanuel even said Dean's name the same way Cas did. It was that moment Dean knew. This was Cas. Deciding not to argue, Dean sighed and focused on the road again.
"Your friend's name was Cas? That's an odd name."
Dean glanced back over at him again, not missing the irony of Emmanuel's words. "Well, he was an odd guy."
Wouldn't this guy drop it already? He wasn't exactly in the mood to talk about the former angel gone amnesiac. It felt weird talking about Cas to Cas. Still, he had to play pretend. "Talked funny," Dean grunted. "Wore the same outfit all the time. Didn't get pop culture references… or any references for that matter."
Emmanuel chuckled, he freaking chuckled, and nodded. "He does sound odd."
"Yeah…" Dean's throat was dry again. Yeah, he was done talking.
"I mean after all, we go way back."
Emmanuel stared at Meg, confusion written all over his face. After freezing in shock for a moment, Dean turned toward her, giving her a death glare.
"Dean and me," she continued after catching Dean's eye. "Just met you of course."
Emmanuel spared a quick glance at Dean, obviously uncomfortable in the presence of a demon. Dean didn't blame the guy. He remembered how demon's true faces looked from when he was in Hell. Gruesome. Horrifying.
"But I think we're going to be good friends," Meg told Emmanuel, stepping closer to him.
Dean's fist clenched. "Alright, can we go?" he demanded. Didn't she see how uncomfortable she was making Emmanuel? Not to mention, she wasn't supposed to be attempting to jog his freaking memory. They had no clue what would happen if Cas remembered himself. "Move," he ordered, purposefully cutting through Meg and Emmanuel to get to his stolen car.
Meg spared him a smirk. "Touchy, touchy."
"Just get in. Emmanuel you sit shot gun," Dean snapped.
"Like old times, huh?" Meg commented innocently.
Emmanuel's eyebrows furrowed and he turned to Dean. Dean's mind frantically searched for a response that wouldn't throw Emmanuel off. "My brother used to ride shotgun while she round in the back," he said awkwardly.
Luckily, Emmanuel believed it. "Oh, I see."
When Dean caught Meg's eye and she winked, he knew it was going to be a long trip.
"This silence is rather uncomfortable. Is there something I should know?"
No, Dean's mind yelled.
But Meg, of course, spoke. "I don't know. Dean?"
Composing himself, he shook his head slightly. "No. Meg has that affect," he continued after a moment. "Awkward. You know?"
"It must be difficult for you," Emmanuel said to her, his voice very serious.
She half-smiled at him. "Dean's making a joke, Emmanuel."
And if that didn't feel like a hand had crushed Dean's heart in an excruciating manner. Emmanuel was so Cas, it wasn't even funny. It hurt like hell too, because he was sitting right next to Dean, completely oblivious to everything that had gone on between them.
When Emmanuel smiled it didn't help either.
Cas had smiled like that once. When he realized Sam had wanted him to lie to him.
"What the hell?" he growled before he could stop himself.
"Is there a problem?" Emmanuel questioned.
"No, it's nothing," he forced through gritted teeth. It didn't matter. No matter how much he wanted Cas to remember, he couldn't bring himself to allow it. He couldn't do that to Cas.
"You seem upset."
And fuck, why did he still have to have that sixth sense shit too? "It's nothing."
"Deany's just a little agitated about his brother," Meg interjected for once being helpful.
Emmanuel's eyes never left Dean's face, but he nodded. "That's very understandable."
Dean closed his eyes. Yes, it was definitely going to be a long ride.
"Oh, gracious…" Emmanuel began, taking in the sight of the demons at the bottom of the hill.
Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Damn it, demons," Meg stated, although not sounding that resentful.
"All of them?" Dean asked, but he already knew the answer.
"No grass growing under your feet," Meg responded sarcastically.
And once again Dean had to stop himself from punching her.
"How many of those knives do you have?" Emmanuel asked, as if he thought he was going to go fight.
For once Dean was glad they only had the one. "Just the one."
"Well then, forgive me, but what do we do?" Emmanuel inquired, his blue eyes on Dean's face for the hundredth time.
"Yeah, Dean, got any other ideas on how we could blast through that?" Her eyes travelled to Emmanuel. She raised an eyebrow.
That was it. "Excuse us. Meg." His voice was rough.
"Oh for the love of…" Rolling her eyes, she followed Dean away from Emmanuel's earshot. "Sam's in there," she told Dean. "I know you're enjoying the double dip with your old pal but—"
"You think it's that cut and dry, really?" Dean interjected, his face twisted up in a dry smile. "You know what he did. And you want to tell him and just hope that he takes it in stride? He could snap. He could disappear! He could… who knows!" Didn't Meg understand? If they said the wrong this, Cas would be gone. After what he did, Dean knew he'd have so much regret, he'd probably drown in it. And Dean couldn't do that to Cas. No matter what Cas did, he just couldn't do it. They had been like family once, after all.
"I gather we know each other."
Dean's heart skipped a beat. Emmanuel was standing right behind him.
"Just a dollop," Meg said unhelpfully.
"You can tell me," Emmanuel said, glancing down at his feet. "I-I'll be fine."
"How do you know?" Dean demanded, picking up on his nervousness.
Emmanuel stared at him, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"You just met yourself!" he continued, frustrated. He couldn't tell Cas. "I've known you for years!" He knew what Cas had done. He knew how Cas would feel. There was no way he was telling him—
"You're an angel."
Dean's shoulders sagged. Meg. That bitch. Heaving a short sigh, he shot her a glare.
"I'm sorry," Emmanuel responded. "Was that a flirtation?"
Oh, for God's sake.
"No, it's a species. A very powerful one."
Well, there was no getting out of this one. "She's not lying, okay?" Dean told him, deciding to let the cat out of the bag. And if anything went wrong, Meg was a dead woman. "That's why you heal people. You don't eat. I'm sure there's more."
Emmanuel's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Dean noticed he didn't blink, much like Cas. "Why wouldn't you tell me… being an angel, it sounds pleasant—"
"It's not." Especially for you, he added silently. Your brothers are dicks. They turn against each other and against you too. Your father's absent. You have no free will… "Trust me," he said firmly. "It's bloody. It's corrupt. It's not pleasant."
"You would know, you used to fight together," Meg mentioned. "Bestest friends, actually."
Dean swallowed the lump in his throat, briefly looking at his feet before turning to Emmanuel.
"We're… friends?" Emmanuel asked cautiously. Something changed on his face then. He hesitated, and then sighed. "Am I Cas?"
Ice poured through Dean's veins.
Emmanuel took his silence as his answer. "I… I had no idea. I don't remember you. I'm sorry."
I don't remember you. Yeah. Obviously Dean knew that. But it felt a lot stranger, and hurtful, to have it said out loud.
"Look, you got the juice," Meg told Emmanuel, ignoring Dean. "You can smite every demon in that lot."
It was true. And they needed the help. Dean dropped his eyes. Here he was again, using Cas as a tool. Except it wasn't quite Cas yet. It was still Emmanuel.
Emmanuel turned toward the demons. "But I don't remember how."
Dean stepped closer to him. "It's in there," he promised. "I'm sure it's just like riding a bike."
"I don't know how to do that either."
Now there was definitely no doubt about it. This was Cas. Dean once again felt his chest tighten. He tried to speak, but no words came out, so he once again dropped his gaze.
Emmanuel, taking Dean's reaction for exasperation, set his jaw. "Alright. I'll try."
Dean watched his retreating back carefully, noticing how tense it was. Dread pooled in his stomach. "This ain't gunna go well."
"I don't know," Meg responded, "I believe in the little tree topper."
Dean's hand clenched Ruby's blade, ready to step in any moment. But as it turned out, he didn't need to. Cas had gone all angel. Dean watched in shock.
"That's my boy," Meg commented.
Dean and Meg started down the hill as Castiel appeared in front of the last demon, smiting him easily. A smile grew across Meg's face as they came to a stop behind him. "That was beautiful, Clarence."
"Cas?" Dean said, hopeful, scared.
"I remember you," Castiel responded in his gravelly voice. Slowly he turned, not a hint of emotion on his face. "I remember everything."
"What I did… What I became… Why didn't you tell me?" Castiel stared at Dean, the expression on his face both regretful and angry.
Dean didn't waver. "Because Sam is dying in there—"
"Because of me!" Castiel cut him off, shocking him. "Everything… All these people. I shouldn't be here."
"Cas!" Dean said, although it sounded more like an order. "Cas!" he called again when the angel didn't stop. Damn it, he knew this was going to happen. "You stay here," he ordered Meg, throwing her an I-told-you-so look before chasing after the angel. "Cas!"
Castiel didn't stop.
"Don't you remember?" Dean continued, catching up to him. "You know you did the best you could at the time!"
Castiel didn't even look at him. "Don't defend me."
But Dean felt like he had to. Partly because he wanted Sammy whole again, but not wholly because of that. This was Cas. The Cas he thought was dead for the last five or so months. Suddenly forgetting and forgiving wasn't so hard. Not now that Cas was here in front of him.
"Do you have any idea the death toll on Heaven? On Earth?" Finally Castiel stopped, turning to look at Dean, his jaw clenched. "We didn't part friends, Dean."
The lump rose back to Dean's throat. "So what?" he managed to get out.
"I deserved to die." His voice was sure, a hint of self-loathing in it.
Dean knew that feeling. He knew it all too well.
"Now I can't possibly fix it," Castiel continued, his voice dropping. "So why did I even walk out of that river?"
"Maybe to fix it," Dean said, although it sounded much more pleading than he'd like to admit.
Castiel looked away.
Dean's heart picked up. Then he remembered something. "Wait." Bending down, he quickly lifted the trunk of the stolen car, searching for a certain article of clothing. Well, he didn't really have to search. He knew where it was. He'd been moving it from car to stolen car, placing it in the exact same place. Just in case Cas came back. Just for scenarios such as this, scenarios he'd dreamed of. Clenching the bloodstained material tightly in his hands, he straightened out, turning to the angel again. Castiel's eyes were glued to his old trench coat. Dean held it out to him. "This is yours."
"Dean, I…" Castiel's eyes flashed and he took a step back.
Dean took a step forward. "A part of me always believed you'd come back," he told him. "I've been carrying it everywhere, Cas. Take it."
"What I did—"
"It doesn't matter, Cas!" Dean all but shouted. "Just take the coat! Damn it! I said we were like family once, and I meant it. If you don't hate Sammy and me for starting the apocalypse, how can I hate you for making a mistake of your own?"
Castiel's eyes were wide as he finally accepted the trench coat. "But I broke Sam's wall…"
"And you can fix it," Dean told him. "We'll go fix it now, Cas."
Suddenly, Castiel's expression changed. No longer was it regretful, hating. It was determined. He slipped his arms into his trench coat, adjusting it so the lapels were resting on his chest correctly.
Dean stared at him in awe. This was the Cas he knew. This was the Cas he missed.
"Let's go," Castiel ordered, striding toward the entrance of the mental hospital.
"What do you mean you can't?" Dean's arms were crossed, standing barely three inches away from Cas.
"I mean there's nothing left for me to rebuild," Castiel responded in a quiet voice.
Dean glanced at Sam. "Why not?"
"Because it was crumbled. Pieces got crushed to dust by whatever's happening inside his head right now," Castiel explained, casting his eyes downcast. The confident expression was long gone. It'd disappeared the moment Sam had uttered you're not real to him.
Of course, that's crushed all of Dean's hope to. And to actually thing for once something was going to go right for them.
"So you're saying there's nothing?" Dean asked, hoping his voice didn't sound as pitiful as he felt. "That he's going to be like this until his candle blows out?"
"I'm sorry," Castiel apologized.
Dean knew he thought it was all his fault. Heck, it was mostly his fault. But Dean also knew that Sammy's wall would've came crashing down eventually too. However, Dean always believed they'd find a way to fix it…
"This isn't a problem I can make disappear. You know that."
How many times could a heart be crushed in one day? Surely more than three times would kill someone. Dean clenched his fists, keeping his gaze adverted from Castiel. There was a few seconds of silence, and then Castiel sucked in a quick breath. Dean kept his eyes on the ground.
"But I may be able to shift it."
Now Dean looked at him, the candle of hope once again alighting in his chest, but not as bold as it used to be. "Shift?"
"It would get Sam back on his feet," Castiel explained hastily, starting for the bed.
Suddenly Dean didn't feel just right. The sense of dread was back. Castiel sat down on the bed, his eyes sweeping over Sam's face. Then he turned back to Dean. Dean froze, like a deer in headlights. "It's better this way. I'll be fine," Castiel told him.
"Cas, what are you doing?" he demanded, taking a step toward him. "Cas?" he said again when the angel didn't answer.
Castiel ignored him. "Now, Sam, this may hurt."
"Cas!" Dean called, frustrated now. "Answer me, damn it! What are you planning to do?"
"And I can't tell you again, I'm sorry I ever did this to you." Suddenly Castiel pressed his hand to Sam's forehead.
Dean looked on with wide eyes. Something from Sam was being transferred to Cas. Something that didn't exactly look like flowers and daisies.
Then Sam gasped, and Dean snapped out of it. "Sam? Sam!" He rushed to his brother's side.
Sam's attention wasn't on him though, it was on Castiel. "Cas? Cas? Is that you?"
Castiel faced Sam. His eyes widened, an image of pure horror crossing his face. He stumbled back, putting as much distance between Sam and himself as he could before backing up into the wall. Sam and Dean glanced at each other, their expressions of shock and worry matching each other's.
"Sammy, are you okay?" Dean asked. Sammy was always first.
Sam nodded. "No, yeah. I'm… I'm fine. Cas…"
"Stay away from me," Castiel hissed at him him. "Lucifer, I'm warning you."
It felt like Dean had been hit buy a bus. So this was what Cas meant when he said he'd transfer it. Now instead of Sam seeing hallucinations, it was Cas.
Sam seemed to come to the same realization because he quickly sat up. "No, Cas—"
"Sammy, we can't help him," Dean told him, holding his brother back. "He chose this."
"Get out of here," Castiel ordered, looking directly at Dean. "Go. Now."
Sam shook his head. "I can't do that—"
"If you don't let him do this, he'll never forgive himself!" Dean snapped at him and the moment he said it, he knew it was true. This was the only thing Castiel could do to forgive himself. To redeem himself.
Still, Sam didn't like the idea. And as much as Dean didn't like it either, he knew it was the only way. Castiel would manage better than Sam, at any rate.
"We'll be back," Dean promised, trying to get Castiel to look at him.
But Castiel was too busy staring horrified at Sam. "No… I'm not…"
"Cas," Dean tried, his throat constricting.
"Dean, let's go," Sam urged, now the one trying to get his brother out of the room. "Now."
Dean shook himself and nodded. "Yeah. Bye, Cas." He clapped the angel on the shoulder and squeezed him tightly. "Stay safe."