A body goes limp suddenly, knees giving in under the weight of the collapsing body, eyes widened in shock and surprise. His body touches the ground with an unmistakable force. A soft orange glow coming from the fire near illuminates the body; the fire inside the grave is the only source of light in the dark night. A soft breath is breathed out. Then-
“DEAN!” the voice of Sam Winchester screams in complete agony. The man drops near the limp body, voice thick with panic. He knows that voice. He certainly knows that name. Sam heaves his brother up in his arms, shaking him violently but all that movement does is shaking Dean’s head loosely because his neck has no strength in it left. Surely enough, though Sam Winchester must’ve only heard a soft rustle of wings, He can see an angel appearing next to him.
“Cas?” Sam says out of breath. His brows are knitted together in the concentration of holding his brother in his arms. He holds two fingers to Dean