Hello everyone! I am so excited for this story so welcome aboard! Supernatural is not mine...YET! *starts planning episodes with lots of topless Jensen, just in case a miracle happens ;) A warning for some swearing, because lets face it, this is Dean we're talking about!

So yeah, I decided to write this…based on a very long daydream in a very dull geography lesson!

Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this first chapter; I am super excited about the story and hope you are too. Please drop me a review!

Chapter 1

This was ridiculous. Fucking ridiculous. He didn't need to be locked up like some sort of freak, he didn't need to be prodded and poked at like some animal in the zoo. He just wanted to go home, now. Not that he had a home, not really. All Dean wanted was to be anywhere but here, in his Impala, driving as far away from this shit-hole as he possibly could. But that was not currently an option.

I should not be here; I should so not be here. Stupid dumb asses thinking they can shut me up in this place. I'll show them. I swear to god or whoever the hell is up there that I will kick their asses until they let me out of this hell hole.

At least there was one good thing about being locked up here, the nurse had informed him that it was lunch in ten minutes and Dean was starving. He had only just arrived in the mental institution, or "care home" as the officials like to call it. As if they really care!

He made his way along the white-washed hallways, which were 'decorated' with sporadic examples of art that the various residents had made over the past few years. Art, being a loose term, Picasso would probably have a heart attack if he saw their interpretation of abstract.

When he finally found his way to the canteen, using his hunter instincts to smell out the overcooked beef and mush that was supposed to be vegetable matter. God it smelt awful!

Hesitantly Dean made his way into the room, navigating his way through a series of low chairs, round tables (probably so no one could hurt themselves on the corner of the furniture) and the residents themselves, who were either bustling around slowly, mumbling to themselves, rocking in their seats, actually eating or sitting in the middle of the floor being coerced up by nurses. All in all, it was a nightmare.

Once Dean had been handed his tray of slop, served on a paper plate with plastic cutlery and a plastic cup, he began to search for an empty table, finding that they were all occupied. With a low groan he began looking around for the person who looked the least unstable, or who wasn't making a tumultuous amount of noise, eventually making his way over to the only table that only harbored one man, who was wearing an oversized beige trenchcoat and was staring at his bowl of vegetables as if they held the answer to the meanings of the universe, or as if he was trying to work out what type of vegetable the slush was made up off. Both questions seemed equally impossible to answer to Dean.

When he was just a few feet away from the table a young woman with wild hair took a few steps towards Dean, grabbing his arm and staring somewhere over his left shoulder.

"I wouldn't sit there if I were you, he is seriously crazy." And with that she wandered off again as if nothing had happened.

Great, even the crazy person says he is crazy. Just my luck! Ah well, here goes nothing. By the looks of things this whole place is crazy anyway.

After his little pep-talk Dean closed the gap between himself and one of the empty seats at the strange man's table, noting how the man flinched violently and looked up at him confusedly, his baby blue eyes wide and his head tilted to the side.

"Um, hi, I'm Dean, what's your name?"

Dean received no response, the man in front of him pulling a pocket sized book out of his trenchcoat and flicking it open, thumbing through the worn pages. He showed no sign of hearing Dean. He just seemed to hunch his shoulders up higher and slink further back into his oversized trenchcoat.

"Hello?" Dean tried again hopefully, drawing back when Castiel suddenly shut his book, pushed his chair back, stood and wandered away with his back hunched up and tense as if he was attempting to ward off the outside world. Or Dean. Or both.

Great, that went well. Even the freaks don't like me!

With a small sigh Dean began to eat his tasteless meal alone, wondering whether this was the future he was doomed to. Maybe if he spent enough time in this place he wouldn't be able communicate with others either. Maybe he wouldn't even notice his loneliness in a while.

That man's people skills were certainly lacking for a start! He hadn't even been able to get a name out of him. This was a nightmare. How could Sammy just leave him here?

After Dean had finished his meal, and the one Cas had left behind, he headed to his room. It was completely empty apart from the five possessions he had unpacked earlier when he first arrived. His father's diary, a photo of Mary cuddling him whilst pregnant with Sam, a few clothes, his knife (security was definitely lacking) and the keys to his Impala. He couldn't bear to part with them.

When Dean was certain that he was going to go mad he got up and made his way to the 'relaxation' room, which when he had been given a tour, looked anything but relaxing. There were people crying in one corner, someone screaming in the centre of the room and a young woman throwing toy building bricks against the wall.

It was certainly not a relaxing environment if you asked Dean's opinion, which no one did.

When he arrived at the room he was glad to see that the screaming, crying and throwing people were gone, replaced by an elderly woman doing a jigsaw puzzle, a younger man painting a rose and the man Dean saw at lunch. He was sitting cross legged in the corner of the room, bent almost double over his book, whci Dean now saw was a Bible.

He slowly made his way over to the man, for some reason he was drawn to him. The man seemed to be a nonentity to everyone else. Everyone seemed to ignore him, the nurses and other residents included. Dean however, thought he looked interesting. He was sure the man had a story to tell and if Dean was going to be stuck here, he might as well set himself a challenge. A challenge to find out who this man was and why he was here.

Dean stole himself, realizing he had been staring at the man and made his way over, plastering the trade-mark Winchester smile.

"Hey Chatty Cathy, how you doing?"

Unsurprisingly Dean gained no response, so he knelt down next to the silent man and leant in to talk to him again.

"Um, hello? I don't s'pose you talk at all do ya?" The man flinched a little, closing his Bible in trembling hands and standing, attempting to make his way out of the room. However, years of hunting had given Dean amazing reflexes and he was able to grab the other man's arm before he had so much as taken seven steps.

However, the man did not seem to take it well. A low whimper escaped deep from his throat and he tensed up, freezing in fear, his knees giving way. Dean grabbed him just before the man's head hit the floor and carefully lowered him down on one of the round-edged plastic seats.

"Hey, hey. I aint gonna hurt you. I just wanted to say hello, so um, yeah sorry." The other man gave a sharp nod of his head, the fear that had been crossing his face seemed to ebb away a little but his shoulders were still tense, his brow was furrowed and he was nibbling a plump lower lip anxiously.

"So, what's your name?" The man did not respond.

"Please, just tell me your name and I'll leave you be."

"C-Castiel." Castiel's voice was deeper than Dean had expected, it didn't quite seem to match his baby blue eyes and perfectly mussed up hair.

"Hey Cas, I'm Dean." Castiel gave a little nod and a twitch of the lip that could almost be a smile. Almost.

"Hello Dean."

"So, uh, what are you doing here?"

"I was sitting."

"I mean why are you in this shithole in the first place?" Castiel flinched a little at the swearing but chose not to answer. He had gone from not talking for over a month to three sentences in less than 5 minutes. It wasn't natural.

"Because nobody believes me. Nobody has any faith anymore. That is the problem with humanity."

"Believe what?"

"That I am an angel of the Lord."

"Oh, right. Well, I'm not an angel of the Lord. Sorry but you're gonna have to talk to me, plain human or nothing."

Dean kept his tone light and gave a small laugh but Cas didn't, instead he tilted his head quizzically in Dean's direction. The strange new man hadn't laughed at him or said he had gone mad like the others. Maybe he wouldn't be too bad, for a human that had no doubt sinned and blasphemed.

"No, I can see that you are not an angel of the lord. You have no grace, humans really do lack so much, corruption and hedonism haves destroyed your souls. Though your gardens are beautiful and you have amazing insects. Did you know there aren't any insects in Heaven?"

"No, I didn't." Dean didn't know what to do. He couldn't really take Castiel seriously, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything, let alone voice his disbelief in God. Or Heaven.

He watched as Castiel looked down at his hands sadly.

"I wish I could help humanity, but I don't have my wings anymore, they won't come out and I don't know why. I did try before, but I kept doing everything wrong. Father cast me out from my home and I-." Castiel suddenly stopped speaking, grabbing at his head with both hands and clawing at his skull as if he was trying to tear away his scalp. He let out an animalistic wail and let out an ear piercing scream, drawing the attention of every resident in the room and forcing Dean to cover his ears.

"Cas? Castiel? What is it? What's wrong?"

The man seemed to shrink back into his trench coat, sobbing and hitting his head against his arms, letting out muffled whimpers until a nurse came in and wrapped a comforting arm around him, leading him away from the room leaving Dean behind, dumbfounded.

The second nurse who had come running in sat down at the table next to Dean, giving him a patronizingly cheerful smile.

"Sorry about that sweetie, poor Castiel often has little episodes." Little?!

"What's wrong with him?"

"There is nothing wrong with him. It is no secret that he suffers from multiple panic-like attacks such as the one you witnessed. I cannot talk to you about his official diagnosis, but it is great that you managed to get through to him, he never usually talks."

"Yeah, great. Like that ended well!"

"The episode wasn't your fault Dean, all you can do for Castiel is be there for him. Heaven knows he could do with a friend." Heaven, oh the irony!

"But what's with the whole angel tnhing?"

"It is one of his symptoms, poor lamb. But as long as he is happy…" The nnurse trailed off when one of the patients called out.

"Daisy!"

"Coming sweetheart." She called back, giving Dean an apologetic smile, "sorry, I'd better go. Just holler if you need anything, I know that settling in during your first week can be tough."

"Thanks." Dean watched as the nurse turned, hips swaying tantalizingly. God he would do anything to grab her ass and kiss her. But that was not an option. He would probably end up in the secure ward. It looked as though Dean's womanizing days were over for now.

With a small sigh Dean made his way back to his room, half wondering what was going on with Castiel and half trying to come up with a way to bust out of this joint. Whatever Sammy said about him needing some time off to get his head in order, this was not the place to do it…

To be continued…

YAY, I am so excited for this story, I have the whole thing planned and am planning on making it quite long, but only if there is sufficient interest. I will try to upload 2 chapters a week, but it may end up being one a week xxx

Please leave a review, comment or suggestion…they make my day and really motivate me :D xxx