"Cas."

Dean sounded worried. Castiel disliked it when Dean was worried. For all that his world consisted of one tiny mostly-human family, Dean had far too many people that he took into himself as his personal responsibility - Sam, Bobby, the whole of humanity. Being considered one of those burdens was a source of both irritation and joy to Castiel, and he tried to alleviate Dean's concern for himself whenever it was in his power.

"Cas!" The slight anxiety in Dean's voice had ramped up to anger, a response Castiel knew meant that Dean was trying to talk himself down from outright terror. It was important that he answer Dean and reassure his charge that he was fine very quickly.

Although, now that he thought of it, Castiel wasn't sure that he Iwas/I fine. He had no idea how he'd gotten to this dark formless place or why he could only hear Dean and not actually see him. He could only conclude that there had been an attack of some sort that had robbed him of his short term memory. It must have been a powerful enemy to accomplish such a thing, but Castiel took comfort in the fact that Dean at least had survived intact. Sam too, presumably, or Dean's concern would not be aimed at Castiel alone.

He tried to answer. "Dean," he said. But although he spoke in his normal tone of voice, no sound came out of his throat - at least he couldn't hear himself if he was in fact making a noise. "Dean," he tried again, louder. He could feel the vocal chords of his vessel vibrating and his throat felt strained and raw as if he'd attempted calling out many times and not just once, but still he heard no sound emanating from his vessel. Not even, he discovered, the expected slide of fabric from the sleeves of Jimmy's trench coat as he reached out toward the sound of Dean's voice. If not for the perfect clarity of Dean's voice, Castiel would have worried for the state of his human hearing.

"Cas, damn it, open your eyes." Dean ordered.

Open his eyes? Castiel obeyed slowly, unaware until he did so that his eyes had in fact been closed.

He found himself looking up at an unremarkable white ceiling and he stared at it blankly, wondering how he had come to be laying down. He certainly had no memory of doing so. Perhaps Dean or Sam had put him in bed, but why? Castiel sat up quickly, swinging his legs over the side of the small bed he found himself lying on and surveyed his surroundings with a single sweep of his head. It was a small, mostly featureless room with one bed, one dresser and no windows except for a tiny one inset high up on the room's single door. And most importantly, no Dean or Sam.

"Dean? Sam?" he called out uncertainly. There was no answer, and Castiel stood slowly, intrigued and disturbed by the slight ache in his back. Something truly powerful must have attacked him to affect both his memory and his Grace's ability to heal himself. He reached for the cell phone in the pocket of his trench coat only to discover that he was no longer dressed in his accustomed manner. Instead he was wearing gray sweat pants and a plain white t-shirt. He frowned at his bare feet, disliking the holes in his memory. Not knowing how he came to be dressed strangely was possibly even more disturbing than not knowing where he was.

Castiel had just resolved to try the door and search the surrounding area when the door swung open to admit a short balding man in a white lab coat. "How are we feeling today, Mr. Novak?" the man asked, not even bothering to glance up from the clipboard he was carrying.

Castiel was mildly surprised at the use of Jimmy's name, and he studied the doctor more carefully. The man was shorter than Jimmy Novak by an inch or two. He was rounded in the middle, but his arms and legs were more muscle than flab. His hair, while sparse was well groomed and cleaned. But neither his own nor Jimmy's memories contained any reference to the man.

The doctor looked up, possibly curious about Castiel's prolonged silence and got caught in Castiel's gaze. Dean often said its intensity was inhuman. That made sense since he was not, in fact, human. "Jimmy?" the doctor prompted, now frowning as if Castiel's lack of response was cause for concern. "Are you okay? Feeling up to your phone call?"

Castiel had been about to inquire about Dean and Sam, but being allowed to call the men themselves seemed a more efficient way to gather the necessary information. "Yes." Then because it was the human thing to do he added, "Thank you."

The doctor laughed. "Don't thank me Jimmy. You earned it. You've made excellent progress these last three weeks."

Castiel kept his silence, but he frowned inwardly. He couldn't have been there for three weeks. He'd been with the Winchesters just a few moments before waking up in this new place. Hadn't he? A feeling of unease rose in Castiel, and he forced it back down. It must have been a remnant of Jimmy's emotions trying to awaken. He was an Angel of the Lord, and he did not feel unease. He would call Dean, and Dean would know - if not what was going on - then at least what to do next.

Cas studied the common area of what he now knew to be the mental health ward of a hospital as he was led to a short line of other patients. It appeared harmless enough. There were a few plastic plants scattered around, several tables of varying sizes surrounded by the hard plastic chairs that Dean had once declared where secretly torture devices from Hell. (Castiel couldn't recall seeing any such chairs while in Hell, but he had been, admittedly, very focused on his mission.) On the wall opposite the nurses' station there was a small sitting area with cushioned chairs and a large couch facing a small television. Castiel didn't recognize the animated character running around on the screen, but no one was paying much attention to it anyway so he deemed it unimportant.

All of the patients were wearing various colored wristbands, and Castiel lightly thumbed over the blue band on own his right wrist. He noted that some of the patients in line with him also wore blue bands, though some wore yellow or green. They were all waiting quietly for their turn to use the ward's single phone, carefully supervised by a large blonde woman in pink scrubs. Her nametag told him that her name was Nurse Rippet.

Everything seemed calm and safe and normal, but something… Castiel hesitated to say 'felt off' even in the privacy of his own mind, but it was the term best suited to what he was experiencing.

Castiel tipped his head, pushing aside his human sight to look at the room properly - and found nothing. A quick survey of the room revealed that he couldn't see anything or anyone with his Grace. Their pasts and futures and souls were completely missing. Hidden from him or simply not there at all he couldn't yet tell, but either way it was quite disconcerting. He tipped his head to the side and tried again, but the only thing the second attempt yielded him was a headache.

The woman behind him interrupted his thoughts with a soft tap on his shoulder. "Excuse me," she said with a shy smile, "the line's moved."

Castiel looked forward and discovered that there was now a sizeable gap between him and the young man ahead of him. He took the two necessary steps to rectify the situation. "Thank you."

"Sure," she smiled again, more confident this time. "Are you calling home?"

"I am calling Dean."

Her blue eyes narrowed the way Sam's did when he was trying to puzzle something out in his head. "Is that your brother? Son?"

"Dean is..." Humans did not have a proper word for what Dean was or the nature of their relationship. "my friend." Then because that seemed woefully inadequate. "A special friend."

The woman's smile turned knowing. "Ah, a special friend." Inexplicably, she winked at Castiel. "He must miss you terribly."

"I'm not sure he's noticed that I am gone," Castiel told her, quite truthfully.

Her face fell and then twisted in some complicated way Castiel couldn't understand and she reached her hand out again, this time squeezing his bicep gently. "Oh, I'm sure that's not true. Sometimes it feels like no one cares - believe me, I know the feeling - but you are special and people care about you."

Castiel wished that he could see her into her properly. He suspected her soul would be battered and beautiful. "Thank you. I know. The same is true of you," he answered. Because it was true that his Father, at the very least, loved all of His children. She beamed at him, but before she could say anything more, it was Castiel's turn on the phone. He forced a small, unfamiliar smile for his companion and picked up the handset of the old fashioned, corded phone.

Castiel dialed Dean's cell number quickly, hoping the other man was able to answer it. A woman picked up on the third ring. Her voice was vaguely familiar though Cas couldn't immediately identify it, and that was as wrong as his inability to see things properly. "Is Dean there, please?" he asked, remembering the phone etiquette in which Sam had been instructing him.

For a long moment - three point five seconds to be precise - there was nothing but silence. Then - "Jimmy? Is that you?" the woman's voice was happy but there was a quiver to it, as if she was forcing the note of cheer into her tone.

The sound of her voice saying Jimmy's name sparked a memory not his own in Castiel's head. "Amelia," he said. He double checked the read out and confirmed that he had indeed dialed Dean's number. "Are you with Dean?"

The was a quickly stifled sob on the other end of the line. "No, baby, no. It's just me. Me and Claire. We miss you honey. Do you remember me and Claire?"

"Of course. You are Jimmy Novak's family."

"Your family, honey. You are Jimmy Novak." Amelia had given up all pretense of cheerfulness. She was sobbing openly.

"No…" Castiel trailed off, thinking over the best approach to the situation. Claire's memories had been left intact when her mother's had been altered, and she would possibly be better able to understand his predicament. Perhaps she could get a hold of Sam or Bobby: there was obviously something wrong with Dean's phone. "May I speak to Claire please?"

"No, I don't think that's a good idea right now." Amelia was still crying, but she was firm.

Castiel understood from her tone that Amelia would prefer to shelter her child from pain if she could help it. Therefore, explaining to Amelia was the best possible solution. "As you wish. I am Castiel, an Angel of the Lord."

"Yes, I know you think you're an angel of the Lord."

Castiel was taken slightly aback at the sudden ice in her voice, and he paused briefly before continuing. "This would be easier to explain to Claire," he tried again.

"No. She needs her Daddy, not Castiel," Amelia refused.

Castiel couldn't argue with that. "I am sorry to bring you such news, and to have broken my promise to your family, but Jimmy is no longer in this vessel with me."

There was a loud broken sob from the other end of the phone, but Castiel pushed on. "I'm afraid some of my brethren showed no concern for Jimmy's life when ending mine. I regret not being able to keep my promises to him and your family. But I promise that you will all be reunited in Heaven and richly rewarded for you faith."

Amelia didn't answer. Castiel wasn't even sure she had heard him over the sound of her own pain. "Amelia?" He wished Sam was here - he was better at finding the right thing to say in these situations. He tried to think of things Sam had said to grieving family members in the past, but Dr. Z was suddenly standing in front of him, taking the phone gently and waving Castiel away before speaking in soft, reassuring tones into the receiver.

Castiel was grateful to see someone offering comfort to his vessel's widow. She was a good woman who didn't deserve the hand Heaven had dealt her. He hoped that when she calmed down she would find a measure of comfort in his words and would be able to offer Claire strength and support in dealing with their loss.

"Jimmy," Dr. Z said, disapproval radiating off of him as he hung up the phone. "You shouldn't have said that: your wife is distraught."

"I have no spouse. I was attempting to reach Dean. Do you know his condition and where I might find him?"

The doctor frowned, changing his disapproval to concern in the blink of an eye. "Dean? Dean Winchester? I thought you were doing better, Jimmy."

"Better than what?" Castiel asked, quite fairly he thought. "Is Dean alright?"

The doctor sighed, as if he was already worn out by their conversation. "Am I speaking to Castiel?"

Castiel moved in closer to the doctor and tipped his head to the side. "How do you know about me? Who are you?"

"I'm Dr. Z." The doctor's tone moved from exhausted to soothing with practiced ease. Castiel marveled once again at the human ability to shift emotional gears so quickly. "Do you know where you are?"

"I... No," Castiel was forced to admit.

"This is Sunnydale Medical Center. Your wife, Amelia, checked you in three weeks ago, suffering from hallucinations and delusions. Your name is Jimmy Novak. Your wife is Amelia Novak and you have a single child - a daughter named Claire. Does any of this sound familiar?"

Cas nodded. Of course those things sounded familiar. Castiel remembered Jimmy Novak's life better even than Jimmy himself. "Yes."

"Good," the doctor sounded as if he were praising a small child. Castiel did not enjoy the tone at all. "You've been doing very well." Doctor Z flashed him a small, bright smile followed almost immediately by a frown. "Until today. You shouldn't have told your wife that Jimmy is dead."

"I have no spouse," Castiel repeated, since the doctor seemed to have missed that fact the first time. "Amelia is my vessel's wife and she deserves to know that Jimmy has gone onto his reward and that he no longer shares this body with me." Castiel felt regret and something akin to sorrow in the fact that he'd been unable to return Jimmy to his family unharmed, but he couldn't let them live a lie.

The doctor shook his head and motioned for Castiel to follow him into the relative privacy of the room in which Castiel had awoken. When they were alone, Doctor Z said with a sadness that Castiel did not believe to be real, "I'm going to have to take you out of the blue level and revoke your phone privileges."

That was unacceptable. Without the use of the phone, Castiel would be unable to track down Dean. He'd never been impulsive in the long history of his existence until he'd pulled Dean Winchester from Hell and left his mark upon him without really deciding to do it. But now, impulsively, he decided to fly away at once to find the Winchesters. "My name is Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord. I am very sorry, but I must leave now to find my friends."

The doctor shook his head with another faux sad smile. "Okay, Jimmy, go ahead, fly away."

Cas hesitated, Dean always scolded him for disappearing in front of people, but he'd already told the doctor the truth of who and what he really was, so Castiel gathered his Grace to him in preparation for 'zapping' out of there and... found it unreachable.

He stumbled back in shock and fell to the bed - graceless in more way than one.

"Problem?" the doctor asked, not unkindly this time. He almost looked sorry for Castiel.

"My Grace," Castiel began with a frown. "It's being blocked. I can not reach it." Castiel didn't know any other way to explain it. He could still feel his Grace, but when he reached for it, it remained beyond his grasp. This was far more troubling than being unable to use his true sight. Many things of even human design could cause that. Castiel could think of only a handful of creatures that could bind an angel's Grace - none of them pleasant. Castiel began to worry.

No, it was more than that. His heart rate and breathing jumped in an irregular rhythm; his forehead and palms began to sweat; and his stomach churned and recoiled violently. Castiel had fought countless wars, been hunted by demon and angel alike, had descended into the very fires of hell, but he had never felt such discomfort as when he reached for his Grace once again and found it inaccessible. He suspected what he was feeling was terror. Castiel tried to push it and his vessel's physical reactions to the emotion away, but was unable to do even that much. That was when the panic really set in, and Castiel handled his fear in true Winchester fashion - by attacking.

"What are you doing to me?" he demanded, standing up and advancing on Doctor Z, "Who sent you? And where are Sam and Dean Winchester?" The last question was nothing more than a slow threatening growl in the doctor's face.

"Orderly!" Doctor Z yelled, nonsensically in Castiel's opinion. Dean was someplace well organized? That was confusing even by human standards. The doctor was backing away with real fear on his face, blocking Castiel's exit from the room. Castiel tried to push his way past the doctor, but whatever was preventing him from accessing his Grace had also taken away his angelic strength, and the two men - orderlies, Cas suspected - that rushed into the room at the doctor's command were easily able to contain him. His struggles to throw them off were completely ineffective and he was helpless to prevent Dr. Z from taking a needle from his coat pocket and injecting its contents into Castiel's neck.

Cas tried to resist the drug's pull, but he lost control of his vessel's muscles within minutes and he could only pray to his Father and weakly call for Dean while the orderlies put him back in bed and secured the restraints.