…and at once the light’s coming in through the motel window, and it’s not sunlight, it’s just white, and the window’s flying open. Dean thinks he’s dreaming. He has to be dreaming. It was nighttime, barely midnight, and all he did was blink. But now his eyes are full of light, and his heart’s surging with a joy he can’t define, and he’s getting up, stumbling toward the window before he can think to ask why.

He reaches out to grope at air and catches the fabric of a tie, solid and real in this dreamscape. Dumbfounded, he blinks at it a moment.

Then he looks up and ocean-blue eyes catch his own.

He’s pulling that tie, and Castiel, toward him without a moment’s hesitation. He catches Castiel’s lips, catches Castiel before he can take off again from the open window like Peter Pan and fly away.