Seven Months Ago:

"Listen, I already told you, that's all I know." Dean reached up to swipe his hand through his hair but was stopped short by the handcuffs keeping him changed to the table.

"Just because I can't remember what happened to my brother doesn't mean I did it! My brother just died for Christ's sake and you pull me into this fucking room for questioning?" He slumped back in his chair, frustrated.

A red-haired woman dressed in a well-fitted charcoal business suit eyed him carefully, she took slow precise strides across the room until she stood behind him, running her hand from his chest to his shoulder. He shrugged it off in disdain, "Don't you fucking touch me." He spat.

"Dean, is it?" She practically hummed next to his ear, trailing her bright red nails through his hair. Dean rolled his eyes, he was getting annoyed at all the stupid questions being thrown his way. "Dean, we have you here because you were covered in your brother's blood. We also have a witness who says they saw you murder Sam, brutally with a bat." She tightened her fist into Dean's hair jerking his head backward as she spat out the words. "and that is why you are here in this fucking room." She let go of his hair, pushing his head forward violently.

"That is NOT true! We were attacked by some nutjob!" Dean nearly jumped out of his seat but was pulled back by the chains. He tried thinking back, that was what happened, wasn't it?

A taller man who had been leaning against the wall in the back of the room stepped forward. He leaned down over the table to look him in the eyes directly. "Dean, can you look me in the eye and tell me that you did not murder your brother, Samuel Winchester?" Dean raised his head, green eyes meeting brown ones, and took a deep breath.

"I did not murder my little brother."

Present:

Dean stares up at the ceiling, squinting in the florescent lighting, with his hands folded behind his head. His eyes trail across the sterile white room, at the sound of the door opening slowly. It was the petite red-haired nurse he had gotten to know over the past few months, Charlie. He had liked Charlie, she was sweet and a little nerdy, but Dean had decided that if they had met under other circumstances they could have been friends. She was one of only three people he had interacted with since his time here began. There was his Doctor, Dr. Singer, and another nurse, Gabriel, who was here when Charlie was off.

"Hello Dean, how're you doing today?" She smiled at him and sat down in the chair, which was bolted to the floor, near his bed.

"I'm better, Charlie, Thanks." He looked on expectantly, he knew what today was. But when she didn't reply he spoke again. "Do I actually get to move today?"

"Yes! Dr. Singer said you're ready for human interaction, but you'll have to be supervised of course. There'll be a guard assigned to you, just in case you have another…episode." Dean hated that word, he'd heard it so many times since his arrival, it was like everyone was waiting for him to have a total meltdown. Yeah, Dean hated it here and thought about escaping several times, they kept making him talk about the night Sam died. But he thought that maybe talking about it would help him remember, and maybe cope with being in such a shitty place.

Charlie cleared her throat and shifted in her seat, "I'm happy you're feeling better, Dean. You've made good progress since you've been here. I'll go ahead and do my regular check-up, then we'll work on getting your things moved over to room 110." She smiled and began her work.

He had gotten to know Charlie a little over the past few months, she'd been his nurse since his arrival after the trail. He'd been convinced by his lawyer to pled insanity, he thought it would have been better than prison, and everyone was already convinced he killed his brother the moment he stepped foot in the courtroom anyway. Dean couldn't remember what really happened that night, but he did know he'd never hurt Sam, he'd been watching out for him his entire life, since their parents died in the house fire.

"All done." Charlie spoke, pulling Dean out of his thoughts. She placed her things back on the small cart she had wheeled in with her. "Ready to go?"

"I'm ready to get the hell out of here, that's for damn sure!" He jumped from his cot.

Dean set his bag on his new bed, it was slightly smaller than the last one but the room was a lot bigger. The walls were a faded blue color, which was infinitely better than the white of previous ones. "Well Dean, as always, it's been a pleasure." She smiled and gave a slight bow forward.

As she turned to walk away Dean grabbed her by the wrist. "Wait a second." She turned around to face him, looking slightly alarmed. "Will you still be my nurse? I don't know if I want anyone else. I, uh, I trust you. You've been here since day one." She relaxed and tilted her head.

"Of course I will, loser." She pushed his shoulder playfully. "You are still in my hallway." Dean laughed a little and quickly planted a kiss on her cheek, thanking her. "Well, uh, I, I'll be going now." She said as she pointed her thumbs over her shoulder in the direction of the door while backing away.

Dean chuckled as he sat on his bed, making it groan under his weight. He leaned forward, and looked around the room. On the other side was a bed identical to his own, only the sheets on that one was messy. He wondered who his roommate would be, he hoped whoever it was that they could get along with each other, and the other man wouldn't be too crazy.

His thoughts were cut short when man in grey pajama bottoms and white cotton t-shirt walked in the room. Dean instantly held his breath and tried not to stare at the other man, but he was absolutely stunning. His hair was black and cut short, and styled in that deliberately messy sort of way. His features were soft, and yet somehow firm. The stubble on his face made Dean wonder how it would feel for it to run across his neck. But what really grabbed his attention was the alarming shade of blue of his eyes. They were so blue it would make the autumn sky feel ashamed.

The other man walked to his side of the room and promptly began to make the bed before sitting on the edge of it. "Hello. I am Castiel. I apologize for my side of the room being so unacceptable for your arrival." Dean nearly laughed at how proper his behavior was, instead he walked toward him and extended his arm for a handshake.

"Dean Winchester." Castiel took his hand hesitantly, his grip was loose and sweaty. Dean thought that maybe he was just nervous, so he pulled a chair over from the desk that sat between the two beds and sat in front of him. "So Castiel, got a last name?"

Castiel shifted in his seat on the bed. "I prefer to only use my first name. I don't identify well with my last, so I got rid of it." Dean nodded his head as if he understood, but really he didn't.

"Well, Castiel is a bit of a mouthful, mind if I call you Cas?" The man looked shocked at the notion, but nodded anyway. "So, Cas… Would it be too much to ask what you're in here for? You don't have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable, it's just that you're the first person I've met other than staff in the last four months." He cocked his head to the left slightly and squinted his eyes.

"I'd… rather not speak of it." Dean nodded in understanding, it must be pretty personal. He began to ask another question, in an attempt to get to know his roommate a little better, but was interrupted by the door opening.

"It time for lunch, guys" Came a voice from the hall. Castiel stood and walked mechanically to the door. Dean followed suit, he wasn't sure where he was going, he'd been stuck in that small room since his first day and had all his meals brought to him. If he did leave his room to go anywhere it was with an escort. He followed Cas all the way to the dining hall, an immense room littered with small round tables, and sat down next to him at a table in the back of the room away from the other residents.

"Are you alright, man?" Dean asked after seeing how Castiel was fidgeting with the end of his t-shirt. He jerked his head up in surprise as if Dean had somehow snuck up on him. He cleared his throat as if to speak, but opted to take a drink from the small plastic water bottle that was already sitting in front of him.

After a moment a man dressed in black scrubs appeared next to them, wheeling a food cart in front of him. He placed two trays on the table and wheeled the cart to the next table. Dean unwrapped his plastic fork from a napkin and looked down at his food; grilled chicken breast, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Not bad, but the usual Monday. He lifted a small container from the corner of the tray and lifted the lid to take a peak in it: Apple Pie. Hell yeah! Maybe things were starting to look up for him after all. Dean began eating quickly, eager to get to the dessert.

As he was finishing the last of crumbs sitting in the bottom of the dessert cup Dean glanced over at Castiel, who took his napkin from his lap and placed it on his tray as he stood. "Will you be accompanying me back to our room?"

Dean nodded and took one last long drink from his own water and followed Castiel out of the dining hall. He still didn't know exactly where he was in relation to his room. He didn't know where anything was for that matter, the place was like a maze to him. They made their way through the halls, walking in long, determined strides. Cas expertly avoided everyone they met, never slowing down his pace.

He opened the door and moved to the side, allowing Dean to enter first. "Cas, man, is everything okay? I just noticed you've been a little skittish." He nodded, seeming to relax a little. "I get that you don't want to talk about why you're here. You're a private person, I can respect that, but if something got you agitated you can talk to me about it. Or we can talk about something else, get your mind off what's bugging you."

Castiel laid back on his bed, back resting against the wall behind it. He was visibly relaxed now, no longer sitting up completely straight with perfect posture, no fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt. Dean found his behavior slightly confusing, but remembered where he was at and thought that as far as roommates go here, it could have been a lot worse.

"Dean, I experience social anxiety. I cannot function properly in groups of people. I have made good progress since being here, before my arrival my social phobia had prevented me from almost all sort of social interaction. But now I seem to get along fine with one or two people, maybe three, but any more than that and I start to feel anxious."

Dean placed his hands on his to keep him from fidgeting again, but Castiel instantly pulled away. Dean frowned at the instant lack of contact, he was craving human contact since being isolated for so long, and Cas was, well, perfect. He must of read the hurt on Dean's face when he looked back up. "I apologize, Dean, I just need a moment to calm down."

"Hey, no, you don't have to apologize, I totally get it. I'm just gonna go lay down for a bit before my session at four." Dean stood and put the chair back in its proper place and got into his bed, facing the wall. He laid there awake thinking about his new roommate, thinking of how awful it must be not able to connect with another person. He wondered what he possibly could have done to land him in this place.