Occasionally, I'd find myself rubbing at my shoulder. The god-wound was gone yet a ghostly sensation remained, like that of a person who loses a limb but whose nervous system reports back that it's still there.

With all the shit that's happened to me and Dean, sometimes we don't appreciate the bizarreness of what we get caught up in.

I'd been linked to God, had seen inside his head. I doubt any other being in existence had experienced that.

Sometimes, I wondered if this wasn't all a dream- a nightmare- more like!

Maybe Chuck had decided to play around with us in ways we didn't even suspect.

:

'That shoulder giving your trouble?' Dean asked lounging against the doorway.

I looked up, unsurprised. It seemed whenever I was grappling with impossible dilemmas, my brother would somehow appear as if by magic.

I sighed. I couldn't do this without Dean but often I've felt selfish and egotistical. I hadn't forgotten what I'd seen in Dean's mind when Michael was riding him. He'd been so happy in that bar. Him and Pamela.

There was no reason Dean couldn't have that here on Earth too, except for the fact I was around. If he didn't have to look out for me then maybe he'd already be behind a counter serving up cold ones.

:

'No. It's fine. My link to Chuck is definitely cut.'

'Stop brooding, dude,' Dean huffed. 'If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be.'

He must have seen the surprise on my face for he winked. 'I can read your mind, Sammy. Always have.'

I snorted. 'No, you can't.'

'You think you're the only psychic in the family? Think again. I can sense you brooding from any distance!''

I doubted he could… but making me smile? He had that down to a fine art!