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Purgatory hunted both of them. There would be times in the quiet moments between the hunts, when they were researching to identify the new creature they hunted, when they were eating, when they were trying to sleep…Purgatory would suddenly no longer be a memory, but the stark reality.
Usually it happened to just one of them at a time, and the other would be able to pull their friend out of it. Sometimes it started with one of them and then, like a virus, it would infect the other, leaving Sam to try to pull them out.
It would creep on hunter and angel, like a monster that stalked them, waiting…always waiting, striking without warning, and then slinking away into the shadows.
It was hardest to know when it hit Castiel. He was usually quiet and would often stare into the air at the wall or the ceiling, silent and still. Sam would be researching or eating or just trying to zone out in front of the TV and suddenly Dean would shake Castiel, calling out to the angel.
Sometimes Dean would just stare at a page of a book, or the computer screen, or the wall…unblinking, and unnoticed by Sam. But Cass always knew, and was always there to bring Dean back to the real world.
Sam would have felt jealous, but he couldn’t ever truly muster the feeling. He had no idea what Purgatory was like, not really. Even after Dean started talking about it, and Castiel gave detailed accounts of their time there, Sam could never truly understand the sheer panic, the constant battle, the survive-or-die mentality of Purgatory. But they understood. They knew, and they were there for each other, each time pulling the other out of the horror…into a slightly less horrible reality.
Sam felt the most lost when they were both gone. He found he could bring the angel back more often than not by squeezing his hands or wrists. Dean was harder, there was never one singular thing Sam could do to bring Dean back into the room with him. After a while, Sam would give up trying, and call for Castiel.
Castiel could bring Dean back every time. His lips pressed against Dean’s, his hand on Dean’s cheek – within breaths Dean was back, grasping the angel’s wrist or kissing back.
Together, the wounded warriors would help each other out of the darkness. Together they were stronger. Together, in more ways than one.