Lost
A/N: Based off of the picture that Misha tweeted of himself, as Castiel, dressed in mental institution garb, and sitting on a bed. Twoshot
Summary: He had no idea of who he was, or why he was hearing these voices in his head.
His bright blue eyes stared around the room, blankly. His hands rested on his legs, as he took a deep breath in. "Why am I here?" He couldn't help but ask himself that question, constantly. Was it all because of those voices, that he heard, in his head? He was just being honest, when he'd told the doctors about them. Why did it seem as if he was being punished?
"Who are you?" Another question that he didn't have the answer to. All he knew, was the name that the nice nurse had gifted him with. James. But that name didn't feel right. Nothing felt right. He didn't belong here.
"You look rather deep in thought." A soft, whispery voice drawled out.
He glanced up, eyes locking on the teenage girl that stood in the doorway. Her long, dark brown hair hung in a curtain of curls, around her shoulders and pale face. Her brown eyes glinted mischievously.
She walked farther into the room. Unlike most other patients here, she seemed rather undeterred by his behavior. "Are you hearing those voices, again?" She asked of him, taking a seat beside of him.
He didn't answer at first, his eyes falling sadly on the cuts that ran up and down her arms. Finally, his eyes flickered up to her. "I do not know what they mean, Lucy."
A look of embarrassment crossed Lucy's face, when she saw where his gaze had landed. Clearing her throat, she wrapped her arms protectively around her much too thin frame and answered, "Maybe it has something to do with your past." She offered. "You've told me that you don't think that the name James fits you. And those guys that you mentioned. Maybe they were your friends."
His eyes stared at him wonderingly. "If I have friends, then why haven't they come for me?" He hated how he sounded. It was almost as if he was a kid, but he couldn't help it. He just felt so lost and confused.
Lucy sighed and fell back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "I ask myself that question, all the time." She muttered bitterly, feeling tears sting her eyes. She tried not to let her issues with her family get to her. But it was kind of hard not to. Especially when they never came to see her, and when they did, they could barely look at her. It felt as if they didn't care about her. Not when she had all of the problems that she did. "You know, I don't really think that this place is designed to help us. I think that that is just an excuse that is used, so that the people that we love can send us away. She sat up again, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, running a hand through her tangled hair.
"Sorry." He told her awkwardly, not really knowing what else to say. People skills weren't exactly his strong suit.
She smiled at him tearfully, throwing her slender arms around his neck, in a tight hug. "You're a good guy. I should be going. I'm going to have to talk with my therapist, soon. I hope that things will work out for you. That you'll remember something. I know what it feels like to be lost inside your own mind. It's not a happy thing to experience." She said to him, seriously. She stood up, smiling down at him once more, before turning on her heel and skipping from the room.
Just then, the door to his room opened again, and a nurse stood there, smiling at him pleasantly. "Good morning, James." She told him in a rather perky voice, one much too out of place for a mental hospital. "Did you sleep well?" She walked farther into the room and over to his small window, pulling back the curtains and letting the son shine through. She walked back over to the cart and grabbed the paper cup with water and then the one with his pills, taking them both over to him.
He just stared at her, not even blinking. He made no move to take the pills from her.
At his silence, she frowned at him. "Come on darling, you have to take these pills. They'll help you. And you should stop being so quiet. It's creepy." She sighed, a hand on one of her hips.
"My name is not James." He stated firmly, breaking the silence. He stared at her as he took the pills and water, from her.
The nurse chewed on her bottom lip, feeling rather unsettled by his stare. There was something odd about this man. Something that everyone seemed to notice. She licked her suddenly parched lips and asked, "Well then, why don't you tell us, what your name is? We have to have something to call you."
His gaze fell to his feet. "I don't know." He murmured. "I just know that it is not, James."
She shook her head at his words, at how formal he sounded, and turned to leave the room. "By the way, you have a new roommate coming. Someone named, Sam Winchester. He should be here, in a few moments." She walked out of the room then, shutting the door softly closed, behind her.
She didn't notice the deep intake of breath that the man took, or the way his eyes widened. She didn't notice any of it.
Back in the room, the lost man sat, wide eyed, wondering why that name sounded so familiar.
To be continued...
Next Part: Sam and Dean come face to face with Castiel, and realise that he has no memory.