He opened his eyes and looked round. The field he stood in was completely different to what he had been looking at before. In the eternal Tuesday afternoon of the drowned autistic man, it was always sunny and bright. The colours were all perfect, greens were most definitely Green with a capital letter, just like the blue of the sky was Blue and the colours of the flowers were all primary colours with no shades in between. Here, the sky was the dark of night, with black clouds covering the stars and moon. The grass he stood on was inky coloured and everything he could see seemed to have been leeched of colour so it was all that inky sameness that night provides. He became vaguely aware of his toes curling in the grass, the texture tickling slightly and feeling colder than he expected and the breeze brushing over his bare arms and chest had a cold bite too. He blinked, trying to make understanding enter his mind, but it was difficult.

"Clarence!" A voice called behind him. Female, American drawl... Meg. The name hit him like a ton of bricks. Meg, she was a demon with eyes black and bottomless and her soul was a dark, thorny beauty. But when her running steps brought her round to face him, all he saw was chocolate brown eyes staring at him beneath a worried brow, her reddish brown hair wafting in the breeze a little and her arms wrapped tight around her to keep her coat from coming open. "Clarence, are you crazy? It's 24degrees out here and you're not wearing shoes or a coat. You'll freeze to death."

He tilted his head a little and looked at her with confusion. He lifted a hand and let the pads of his fingers brush over her cheekbone with a feather light touch. "Oh Meg, don't worry about me." He told her, his voice growling and low. "I am an angel of the Lord. I do not feel the cold." "Okay, well, still, I'd rather you came inside, Feathers." She replied, her own hand coming up to meet his and running down the line of his arm. Her hand found its way to his back and splayed out at the bottom, her pinkie finger teasing the edge of his pyjama bottoms and the rest pressed firmly and reassuringly against his spine. "Will you come inside for me?" She asked him, her voice velvety and comforting. He closed his eyes and let it wash over him a little, a small smile playing on his lips as he enjoyed the feeling of her warm hand on his back. It was suddenly joined by her other hand on his chest, pressing ever so slightly more as she guided him to turn round. When they were facing the right way, she slipped the rest of her arm around him, slotting herself against his side and pulling his own arm around her so he was leaning on her a little, her tiny frame somehow strong enough to support his own as they made their way through the field, up the road and back to a house.

Meg closed the door behind them and then took him over to a sofa in a living room he was vaguely familiar with, sitting him down and pulling a blanket over his lap. "Now you wait right there." She instructed him. "I'm going to call Doctor Wesson and see if he can prescribe anything to make you feel better, alright?" He hummed his consent while keeping his eyes closed, pulling the blanket up a little and smelling the fabric - the scent of pumpkin, toffee apple and bonfire smoke drifting up his nose and telling him that this was most definitely her blanket. He heard her pick up the phone in the hall and opened his eyes, letting them wander round the room as he recognised that this is where they lived together. The television in the corner was turned off, but on the stand just in front of it was a picture of the two of them, smiling at the camera and holding hands. On the coffee table in front of him was a half finished cup of coffee - that was his own - and two unfinished sandwiches - one peanut butter and grape jelly and one pure peanut butter - that was what they had been eating earlier. Meg tasted like peanut butter, he remembered.

"Hi, Doctor Wesson? It's Meg Novak." Her voice came from the hallway and he turned to see her staring at him, her brow furrowed and her teeth worrying at her lip. "Well he seemed fine earlier, but he went missing about 90minutes ago." "Speaker phone, Meg." He told her, annoyance creeping into his voice. He didn't like it when she spoke about him and he couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, he remembered. Meg pressed a button on the cordless phone and brought it into the room, placing it onto the table in front of him and then sitting next to him. "Hello." Said the man on the phone. "I want you to tell me your name, where you are and how you're feeling."

Meg turned to look at him and when he returned the look, she nudged him gently and raised her eyebrows expectantly. He leaned forward a little so his voice would carry better over the line. "My name is Clarence Novak." He spoke clearly, clearing his throat a little to try and get rid of the growl. "I am at my home in Lawrence, Kansas with my wife Meg. But I am feeling confused. Hello Sam." He finished, letting the doctor know he was gaining his memory. "Hi Clarence." Sam replied, obvious relief in his voice. "Alright, great. Well done, you're gaining your memory quite well. What do you remember from tonight?"

Silence filled the room for a moment. Clarence wasn't sure he wanted to say it all out loud in front of Meg, especially considering what he had seen her do only hours before. But he knew she would worry about him if he didn't. He sent her a quick apologetic look, which caused her to lean forward and grasp his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze and letting him know that of course, it was alright. "I was sitting in the living room, watching tv with Meg." He began slowly, speeding up as he continued. We were watching a show about feral dogs in Phoenix, about how they get abandoned by their owners and can often become angry with humanity for the way they are treated. Meg turned to me and said maybe we should get a dog, but I told her I would prefer a Guinea Pig. She laughed and kissed me on the cheek, then went to the bathroom..."

He paused, really not wanting to continue for Meg's sake. Her hand rested on his shoulder and she smiled at him again, letting him knew she understood that what came next was out of his own control. "Then... I was Castiel again." He continued. "I was in the car with Jo and Ellen. We were heading to Carthage because my brother Lucifer was performing a ritual. You and Dean had found the Colt..." "You mean myself and Doctor Smith?" Doctor Wesson cut in so he could fully grasp what he was being told. But it made Clarence lose his train of thought for a moment and he paused, trying to connect the two men in his mind. "Yes, Dean Smith... Doctor Smith... He's Dean Winchester... Yes, that's what I..." "Clarence." Meg cut in, carefully brushing her fingers through his hair, helping him refocus his mind. He smiled apologetically at her again. "I'm sorry. I'll continue." He told them both, linking his fingers in with hers.

"You and Doctor Smith... Sam and Dean Winchester... You had found the Colt and were planning on emptying it into Lucifer's face, hoping to stop the apocalypse. When we arrived there, I had to leave my friends. There were reapers... reapers everywhere. So many of them. I began to realise they were there to meet their boss, Death the Horseman, so I began to follow where they were facing and ended up trapped in a circle of holy fire. Angels cannot escape from holy fire." "Were you alone?" Wesson asked, his voice crackling slightly as a gust of wind from outside affected the line. "No, my brother was there." Clarence answered, closing his eyes to help himself focus more. "What did you and your brother do?" Sam asked. "Nothing. Talked." Clarence replied. "We were making small talk, I told him if he hurt you or your brother, or tried to possess you, I would kill him myself... Then Meg came in." "I was there?" Meg interrupted, surprise lacing her voice. "Yes... you were a demon." He told her, regret at this detail leaking into his own tones. He felt her stiffen next to him for a moment, making him feel even worse, but he knew he had to finish telling them. "You told my brother you had the Winchesters trapped using hell hounds and were waiting for instructions on whether to kill them or not."

Silence filled the room once again as the two let the information sink in, regret filling every particle of Clarence's being. Then Sam cleared his throat over the line. "Clarence, Meg, you have to understand the hallucinations Clarence experiences have no relevance to his everyday life. He sees people he knows in reality because that is the information his brain has to work with. It's like... having really vivid daydreams. There is no reason or meaning behind him seeing you as a demon, Meg, just like there is no reason for me or Doctor Smith to feature in his dreams other than the fact that he happens to know us." "I know that, of course I know that." Meg replied, rubbing her hand on Clarence's shoulder and smiling at him sympathetically. "Honestly Doctor, I'm not so worried about the content of his hallucinations, I'm worried about how they're making him act. It wasn't so bad when he was just dreaming them, but just now he's obviously lost 90minutes of time and was standing in a field outside just wearing his pyjama bottoms. I don't know how long he was out there and the idea of him getting lost or stranded..."

"Meg, hey Meg, I understand." Doctor Wesson cut her off, but Clarence had already heard her words and they cut deep. "Of course the forefront of both mine and Doctor Smith's minds is always Clarence's safety. I think his clinical appointments need to be increased. I already have you booked in for an appointment in 6 months but I'd much rather see you before then, if that's alright with you Clarence?" "Yes, of course." Clarence sighed. "The last thing I want to do is cause more concern for Meg." "Well that's what we're here for. I'll call Doctor Smith tonight and have him call in on you tomorrow to see how you're doing and discuss maybe adjusting your medication. I'd like to see you in 3 weeks for a full MRI scan please. Meg, we can sort out the details later this week if you'd like. For now, I'd like you both to go about your lives as normal. Get some rest, both of you, Meg, remember to lock all the doors as we discussed and if anything more happens, please don't hesitate to contact me. Alright?" "Thanks Doc." Meg replied, rubbing a hand down her tired face but looking a little more content than she had earlier.

She handed Clarence his sandwich as she hung up the phone, taking it and the coffee pot back to the hall. "The coffee's stone cold by now Clarence. I'll pour it down the drain and tidy up, then maybe we can go to bed?" She suggested, raising her voice as she walked through to the kitchen so he could still hear her. "Sounds like a plan." He called back, taking a nibble of his sandwich.

Desperately, he clung to the familiarity of the taste and texture of the food as he rested the plate on his lap and reached a hand to his back. He'd been a normal human for much longer than his condition had been affecting him, so he still found it surreal when he reached back and was surprised that his fingers weren't met with the soft caress of feathers, or when he clenched a fist and they didn't tingle with grace running under his skin. He tried to do the tests when Meg was in other rooms as much as possible so she wouldn't see, but she had caught him once or twice and unfortunately, tonight was one of those nights. But even as she stopped suddenly in the doorway, staring at his contorted arm with wide eyes, he didn't stop feeling his back, trying to bring his mangled brain back to reality again. She padded over and sat next to him, placing a hand on his thigh.

"What do they feel like?" She asked him in a half whisper. "Your wings, I mean." "Soft." He smiled at her as he felt along his shoulder blades, pressing the firmness and feeling the nerves reacting. "They're huge, Meg. Black like a raven and incredible. They're a little oily too, like a duck's feathers which I suppose makes sense, keeps them waterproof. My grace is... amazing. So much power compacted into one body, I feel like I could do anything at all, like I'm completely invincible. I love my angelic body." He told her. "M... More than you love me?" She stammered, hurt already evident on her face. His heart sank. How could she ask that of him? He pulled his arm back so he was no longer feeling his shoulder blades, facing her with his whole body and placing his plate back on the table. Taking her hands in his, he looked deep into her eyes. "No Meg, I could never love anything as much as I love you." He told her, sounding more certain than he had of anything in weeks. "I said my angelic body feels invincible, but my angelic brother taught me otherwise today. He surrounded me in holy fire and I couldn't move. My power was completely diminished until there was nothing left, until I was nothing but a human. Normally that wouldn't have bothered me. But to Castiel, standing in that ring of fire facing his brother who has started the apocalypse and is planning to destroy the world and half his friends, it was terrifying for him. The only thing keeping me from screaming in fear was seeing you there, although Castiel doesn't understand why he feels anything for you. You kept me feeling safe." "But I'm a demon." She replied through the tears running down her cheeks. "Doesn't that make me one of the bad guys?"

"But you're still my Meg." He told her, brushing a stray tear off her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "And to me, all that... thorny darkness I see in you... that's far more beautiful. And Castiel knows that."

She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips, just a quick pressure between them before she sank into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her so close she was sat in his lap. He leaned back and she followed until they were curled up together on the sofa, silent. "Hey, Clarence?" she said, breaking the silence after a few moments. He hummed to show he was listening. "You just separated yourself from Castiel. You spoke about him like he was a different being to you. I've not heard you do that before." He tilted his head in thought, going back over his own words to study what he had said and realised she was right. "I suppose I did." He said with a smile she couldn't see while she was nuzzled into his chest. "I guess you brought me out of it." "I hope it lasts." She told him, squeezing him a little tighter and inhaling his scent. "Yes... me too." He agreed, knowing that the way his condition was going, that was, unfortunately, not going to happen.