Whispering Angel

Summary: Jimmy Novak ultimately chooses Castiel over the love of his family. Sorta AU but not really. Mental Hospital setting. Incredibly slight, Castiel/Jimmy.

A/N: I love Jimmy with all my heart so have a oneshot? I bet only like two people will read this story and it's okay.


"Um, Mr. Novak?" One of the young men on staff rubs behind his neck, feeling how much his hair had really grown out. He pulls a seat closer to the bed that the patient currently sat on, looking plainly through the window, unnaturally and completely still. "How are you feeling today?"

There is a long pause, it was almost as if the patient were catatonic until the silence is broken with an eerily genuine statement.

"Oh just fine. I hope you feel the same?" The polite question surprises the doctor but he nods rather vigorously.

He flips over the pages in his hands, almost as if he were nervous. "Have you been sleeping well?"

It's a speedy reply. "Very." He smiles almost as if reminiscing. "It's surprising actually. I mean golly, I don't think I've slept this great in years."

The man flashes him a small, reassuring smile of his own. "That's good, we don't want anything here to cause you stress. Being well rested is an important part of recovery."

Swinging his legs as he sits in place, Jimmy politely returns the smile waiting for doctor's next question.

"The food isn't too bland I hope."

Jimmy scoffs. "Heaven's no."

He turns away slightly, a few negative thoughts surfacing. "But, to be honest, I'd much rather be having Millie's meatloaf…" His lip tightens into a frown, eyebrows scrunch together. "Nothing compares to my wife's cooking."

The other man nods his head in understanding. "Certainly. I'm sure you'll see her soon."

Noticing Novak's somber mood, the doctor quickly tries to pull him out of it.

"It's supposed to snow again this week."

He stops staring at the hospital band on his wrist and looks up.

"Is it? The view is just lovely this time of year. The eternal beauty of God's Creation is truly humbling." Jimmy closes his eyes for a moment as if trying to recall what it feels like to walk in freshly fallen snow. "I only wish I could experience it first hand."

The man in the white coat flips some of the pages of his clipboard. "Well, I'll look into that and can't see if we can go for a walk sometime. Although you must understand that privileges only come with significant progress, however." Jimmy nods in silence.

"Do you think your condition has improved at all since your arrival at this facility, Mr. Novak?"

He knew it was coming and yet he still felt skittish about giving an answer. If he told the man what he wanted to hear than he would be lying. His heart wretches at the idea of denying the communication he had received from his loving Creator. Jimmy was not about to bear false witness so blatantly direct and irresponsibly brazen in the face of God or his messengers. He knew that Castiel was always watching him, no matter where he was or what he was doing. He'd rather be honest, locked up here than tell a lie.

"My condition." He says rather quietly in thought, contemplating his next move carefully. The soft rumbling of the heater is heard between the two in the quiet stretch. It's too long of a silence however and the doctor seems to take that for an answer.

"I've been notified that you have been isolating yourself from the other patients since you arrived."

"That's not true." Jimmy's expression scrunches up in confusion. Why would they perpetuate such a falsehood?

"It says on file that you stay here while the others congregate in the day room."

His eyes widen as he finally understood. A light chuckle breaks from his lips. "Ah no, you misunderstand. I was praying, you see."

"But why by yourself?"

"The angels, they have messages that only I can hear. To include the others would be counterproductive."

A skeptical expression grows on the staff member's face, he sighs. "Angels?"

Jimmy smile brightens as he gives a happy nod.

"The angels speak to you?"

"Yes." He adds, the same air of happiness still overflowing from his form.

Flipping again through his clipboard and ruffling the shag of hair creeping down on his neck, the doctor grimaces slightly. "You are still hearing audible voices..."

"Oh yes. Even with the medication, I can still hear him speaking to me."

"Him?"

Jimmy suddenly forgets that he hasn't been very specific, excitement overflowing in his voice; his smile grows as he straightens his posture and shifts slightly in his position. "Castiel." He clarifies, eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.

"That is…" The man trails off unsure.

"The angel. The one that said God has a special mission for me." A sense of pride begins to bubble in his chest at the thought.

"Is that so…"

Jimmy senses that discomfort radiating off the other man and disheartens slightly, the smile on his face falters.

"This, Cas-ti-el." The name rolls off his tongue like an unfamiliar foreign language. "When did he start speaking to you?" The doctor leans forward in his seat.

Jimmy opens his mouth to speak but stops himself to think about it for a moment, he looks to the side as if looking for the answer. He smiles again. "About 8 months ago I'd say."

"So, just right about when the seizures started?"

Jimmy becomes deathly still once again. The doctor fears that he may have inspired anger within his patient. He grimaces softly knowing where this conversation was heading but keeps a relatively neutral expression. "That maybe so, but it's unrelated." He says definitively, confidence in his voice.

The doctor recognizes the conflict and quickly tries to dissolve it. "If you're so sure…"

The patient nods curtly.

"Alright." The tall doctor agrees, looking to change the subject.

"You don't believe either. Isn't that right?" He doesn't mean for it to sound so pitiful, but Jimmy's voice falters slightly anyways. It lowers in volume and if the other man wasn't so sympathetic, he might of pretended not to hear.

He sighs deeply, brow creasing. "That's not true." The doctor leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. His tall body is too big for the chair but the understanding look etched into his face prevents him from looking intimidating.

"I know you've experienced things you can't explain. That's real. Your emotions are real. Your struggle is real and it's all that matters."

Jimmy looks up at the doctor again in disbelief. It would have been an understatement to say he felt comforted by the idea.

"Angels or not. We're going to help you figure it out. Okay?" The patient nods at the caring statement.

"So what does the angel look like?" A warm smile finds it's way to his face once again.

"Well, I can't see him." Jimmy admits rather lamely.

"Oh?"

He nods somewhat embarrassed.

The doctor's expression twists into a mixture of confusion and surprise. "Really? Not at all?"

"He told me that his true form is overwhelming to humans."

"What does it feel like? When he talks to you?"

"It's…" Searching for the right adjective, the one he comes up with is less than adequate. "Calming? I suppose... " His brow scrunches up in mild contemplation.

"Sometimes it feels like, you're getting a small glimpse of what's to come. So many emotions flood in at once, it's chaotic, really."

"Does it ever feel, cold?"

Confusion finds itself in Jimmy's expression once again.

Rapping on the door interrupts their conversation and a look of mild frustration appears on the doctor's face.

"Knock knock." They both look toward the entrance at the muffled voice. The young person saunters in, shuffling with his suit, pointed dress shoes clicking on the linoleum. He wipes a few crumbs off his slim face with his sleeve before stuffing the used snack wrapper into his pocket. He runs a hand through his brown hair before loosening his tie a bit. Jimmy automatically becomes internally inquisitive. His hair doesn't look conservative enough to be an agent. Perhaps he's a rookie?

The doctor hisses through a fake grin that was bordering on gritted teeth. "What are you doing here?"

"What?" He sneers sarcastically, feigning innocence. " I wanted to see how your evaluation was going."

"Well I don't need any help. Wait outside."

Jimmy exchanges a glance between the two assuming they must know one another.

"Is something wrong?" He asks hesitantly and the doctor's shoulders jump.

The man at the door interjects rudely." You mean other than the fact you think Zeus is talkin' to you?"

He's offended but tries not to engage the crude comment.

"Out." The psychologist says more forcefully.

The other scoffs and flashes a spiteful smile. "Alright, alright. When you're done talkin' to Saint James over there, I'll be around."

The psychologist grumbles once again openly scowling at the young man in the suit before turning to flash a bright smile at Jimmy. "Mr. Novak, can you excuse us for a moment?"

He nods and they both leave the room. He tries not to, but he can't help but hear them arguing with one another outside the door. It's a muffled sound that prevents him from eavesdropping but he still feels a curiosity growing in the back of his mind. He can't think of anything to do about it though and he's already learned to live with not knowing.

They bicker like brothers. He thinks to himself.


Evening set in quickly after the two strange men left. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to see them again for a very long time and he didn't know why.

"Jimmy?"

He turns around to see a nurse at the door. "You have a phone call." She says in a friendly voice.

He feels as if he should be excited but he can't get rid of the hard lump sitting in his stomach. His palms are sweating when he is handed the receiver.

"Hello?"

The other person is quiet for a second. "Jimmy." He recognizes the voice immediately and the knot in his stomach flips over. There is in an icy tone in her voice and Jimmy can't imagine this was the same person with tears on her face the night he left. She has been practicing steeling herself awhile he was away.

"Amelia…" He trails off, unsure of how to begin. "How's Claire?"

She sighs on the other end. "She's…She needs her father."

The thought of his daughter makes his heart ache; he can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

"Can I…" He starts without thinking. "Could I speak to her, please?" There is a respectful pleading in his voice.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Please, Amelia."

She sighs again, tone becoming soft and shaky. Her wall was beginning to crumble.

"Hold on."

Jimmy waits silently, worry etched into his face. The silence is broken by a soft, young voice.

"Daddy?"

He smiles at the comforting sound. A bittersweet happiness begins to swell in his anxious stomach. "Hi Sweetheart."

"Are you okay?" She mumbles unsure if it was appropriate to ask.

"Yes Baby, I'm fine. How's school?"

"Alright. I got on the Honor Roll again."

He smiles automatically. "That's my girl."

It's quiet once again for a moment.

"When are you coming home, Daddy?"

His blissful smile falters, contemplating the question. "I'm not sure Honey." He thinks about the past few months he's spent in this facility. Images of the long blank hallways and the staff dressed in white walking down them flashing through his mind. He thinks of group therapy sessions and the uncomfortable looks he inspires when he talks about the angels and his Lord. He remembers the medicine cart and how the pills they give him arouse slight nausea after he eats. He remembers Castiel's commandeering voice and the last thing they spoke about. The stern voice hasn't graced his ears in quite a few weeks and the thought makes him even more anxious.

"I'm not sure Honey…" He repeats the statement once again unconsciously.

Claire frowns at the thought. "Daddy, Mom wants to talk to you again."

He makes a sound of agreement before his wife is back on the phone. Her voice is much more erratic this time. She sounds like she is going to start crying again. "Jimmy, we want you to get better."

"I know but-"

"No." She says firmly. "Let me finish."

"We're your family. " She hisses in her upset stupor. "How could you treat us like this?"

"I don't-"

Her voice almost becomes shrill. "You're not even trying Jimmy!"

He can't bring himself to try and talk over her. Yelling isn't in his nature. "That's not true."

"Yes it is! Do you know what they told me?" Bordering on hysterical, Amelia's fingers clutch the receiver tighter. She pronounces each word carefully. "Do. You. Know. What. They. Told. Me?"

Jimmy stutters unsure of what to say.

"Uncooperative!" She begins going down the imaginary list. "Difficult to communicate with. Unresponsive to therapy. Are you even taking your medication!?"

He cries out automatically, it sounds pitiful but hopeful at the same time. As if there is a small part of him that believes she will understand when he explains it to her again. "Yes! But Castiel-"

She growls through her shrill voice. "Don't you ever say that name to me again! Do you hear me?"

Jimmy's mind goes blank even though he desperately wants to say something. Pained expression on his face, his mouth lays open ready to reveal words once they come back to him. The excuses become stuck in his throat and all he can do is just listen to his wife's grievances.

"Who is more important to you Jimmy?"

The thought echoes in his head.

"If you don't choose us Jimmy, you're never going to see us again. Do you understand?"

His eyes widen in shock."Amelia." He somewhat whispers.

"Please Jimmy, you're sick. I'm willing to support you but you need to try. I need to know that you are going to try…" She chokes back a sob. "Tell me."

The statement sounded extremely strange to him. His heartbeat was thundering in his ears by now. The fingers grasping the phone had lost their strong grip; the phone almost slips from them. He couldn't choose between his faith and his family. He never thought he would have to do something so difficult. He stays silent, unable to find the courage to speak.

He stutters in his flustered state. "I can't."

Tears well up in her eyes when she hears his words.

"I… I can't…"

It takes all of her willpower not to start crying once again, her expression goes completely empty. Her tight grip on the phone loosens and she mutters a soft but broken statement.

"Goodbye, Jimmy."

His eyes fly open, desperately pleading now. "Amelia? No. Amelia!"

The line clicks and a soft beeping noise fills the dead silence on the other end. Frozen in his spot, Jimmy simply sits there, phone still sitting in his hand. Eyes empty, he stares off into the white corner.


It's difficult to recall another time that Jimmy has felt this lonely. It's a truly crushing sadness that leaves an aching in his fragile chest. He knows it now, that he's lost his family. The only thing he can turn to now is God and His angel, Castiel. He sighs subconsciously, rubbing his hands together hoping the touch might console him somehow. He desperately wishes he was with his family again. He wants Castiel to speak to him once again. The voice of the angel had always been comforting to him in the past, now would certainly be no different.

Jimmy removes himself from the indent on the mattress and kneels at the hospital bedside, hands clasping together.

He begins to pray silently. Castiel?

When he doesn't receive an answer, he feels even more abandoned but he tries again once more.

He lets out a deep shaky breath when the space remains silent before the entrance catches his eye.

He peers out of the small window before cracking the door open slightly, peering out into an empty hallway. A strange thought crosses his mind; something tells him that he should leave. It feels like there something whispering to him, that he should go. The inclination is so strong; Jimmy doesn't even realize it when his feet begin moving down the hallway and up the stairs. It's as if he where under a trance or some sort of spell, his body begins moving of it's own accord. The loneliness propels him up another flight of stairs. The thought of being completely alone terrifies him.


"Castiel?" He whispers quietly approaching the edge of the roof.

A thread of doubt begins to tug on his heart when he doesn't hear a response.

An eternal silence flows all around his form; only the soft humming of a few cars speeding through slush on the ground reaches his ears. A shiver creeps up through his spine, the cold air passing through his thin clothes.

"Please Castiel." He tries again, voice elevating to a higher pitch. The nervousness begins to flounder in his chest. In his trepidation, he thinks he can hear the staff's frantic movement beneath him.

Anxiety begins to creep into his chest; feelings of regret bouncing around in his gut. His resolve falters, briefly crediting the people that told him he was very mentally ill. He feels hot tears prickling at the corners of his eyes not just from the frozen air whipping into his face but the resentment piling in his heart. Perhaps, they were right?

Oh Lord. What if they were right?

"Castiel!" It's a pitiful, frantic call, almost like a moan of pain. His breath hitches, he hiccups biting back hot tears.

"I've done everything you asked of me!" He's waiting silently now, positioned properly, back straight. Blood begins to pound in his ears as he stares out over the town. The indifferent silence he receives scares him to death.

I know. You have done well.

The articulate sound shoots through his whole body and it immediately stops shaking out of emotion. It's probably the biggest sigh that has ever left his throat but Jimmy grins wide.

"Praise Him." Jimmy mutters to himself, a few nervous chuckles bubble in his throat. His hands mesh together briefly, almost as is if the words were a short prayer. Relief washes over him.

The Lord has work for you, Jimmy Novak. Before I can reveal myself, you must prove your faith.

Confidence begins to swell in his smile. Jimmy could easily do that.

"Whatever it is, I'm ready." He opens his arms as if waiting for a gift. A cold gust of wind rips through whole body, palms sweaty, fingers stiff in anticipation for the angel's request.

Fly, James Novak. With the Lord as your armor, you cannot be injured.

The expression on his face vanishes into thin air. The optimistic smile falls from his face completely. Confusion and fear flashes through his expression.

"Castiel." It's a soft beginning. He fumbles with the syllables to follow, can't help but stutter. "I can't do something like that."

The angel's voice interrupts him You will. It has been decided.

Jimmy looks over his soft canvas shoes; the ledge of the building comes into view. Trying to calm himself, he lets out a deep breath visible in the icy winter air.

"I've given up everything. My wife and my daughter – my life."

He shakes his head at the thought of Amelia's tears, his child doing her best to console her mother. His entire world wrapped around one another waiting back home, distress and sadness written on their features. "Isn't that enough?"

No. The angel's voice sounds much harsher than before. Your body. Castiel falters, slightly. Your body as well.

Jimmy sucks in a shaky breath, the pent up resentment rattling against his head. His hands unconsciously clench into fists as he fails to keep his true thoughts hidden from the divine being. He suddenly understands that there is no going back to his old life. To deny the angel's request would leave him with nothing. He would be nothing.

You must agree. Say yes to me.

Faintly, he can almost feel an invisible force attempt to comfort him. Soft invisible feathers glide down his arms, the skin prickling there. The hair on the back of his neck stands on edge when he feels the force move to one side. A warm waft of air puffs into his face, making his nose wrinkle. He wants to scratch the itch but he's afraid that if he goes to move, he'll accidentally brush his hands against the undetectable angel.

It is God's Will. Castiel reassures him, voice sliding over his entire form. A peaceful feeling washes away the anxiety.

The metal door behind him busts open, iron loudly rattling against the rough concrete. A voice calls his name in the distance but he does not even look in the direction.

"Then who am I to question it?" An eerie acceptance drifts through the man, as if he were an empty shell. There is no more fear or confidence running through him any longer. The pressure and anticipation vanishes completely as if he had been administered a sedative. His shoulders seize up as his form prepares itself. His throat feels dry as his tongue pushes up against the back of his teeth uncomfortably.

Jimmy propels his body over the edge, faintly hearing another deep voice call out to him. The cold wind whips back behind him as he free falls. Searing tears fly over his cheeks as his face is assaulted by the fast moving air. He feels a force probing in the back of his mind.

Yes. Jimmy's lips form the word but he's not sure if any sound leaves his parched throat. He knows that he's seizing again like he did the first time Castiel spoke to him.

All of a sudden he can't feel his own body; he only sees darkness. He's not sure if he's dying or rising to Heaven but the emotions flooding through him is the most immense weight he's ever felt. It's truly like being chained to a comet.


The man on the roof runs up to the railing, huffing out of breath. "Crazy son of a-"

The other in the white jacket follows behind slightly delayed. He scratches the back of his neck again subconsciously.

"Did he just, jump?"

"Yeah, he's definitely dead." He mutters pulling on the blazer of his suit.

Sam against his better judgment peers over the edge. His expression anxious of what he might see. Confusion flashes across his features.

"Where?"

"What?" Dean growls.

"I don't see him."

Dean shoves his brother aside to get another look and finds nothing.

"He's gone." The Winchesters turn to look at one another, some form of awe and worry written on their faces.


A/N: Oh poo, do you how hard it is to write sass? Sweet Jesus Dean, I don't think I can write you in a fic ever again. Atleast with you saying things.