Dean woke up and stared up at the ceiling. Same old ceiling, same old room. He looked over at his Chevy Impala poster. His baby. That was what he looked forward to. Seeing his baby again. It had been so long. 'Only a month.' Is what people there would say. The word 'only' being used depending on how long they would be there.

'Hell.' He muttered. 'Another day in hell.'
He looked over at the photo of his brother.

'Mornin' Sam.' He said loudly as if his brother was in the room.

Then he stared at the ceiling again. Dean had never felt this terrible. He found it hard to sleep- most nights he would just lie in bed staring at that darn ceiling until his brain became too tired too function. He had been at the institute for a month now. What he had done was something that he tried not to think about- he was too distracted by the time he would possibly spend there. Would it be a year? Two years? The clock on his wall said 6:00- so he still had two hours. Then he remembered why he had woken up. Why he had woken up so early.

Screams- a woman screaming.

'No!' Dean shouted.

Dean pulled the trigger.

He had not shot what he wanted.

Someone dead- someone innocent.

Broken glass, a road.

Then Dean had woken up. Oh, he hated it there. To escape the morning he put his headphones over his ears and pressed play- Bon jovi's Wanted Dead or Alive played. Then he threw it onto the ground.

'Fuck you!' He shouted.

Dean looked over at the calendar on the wall. Then he sat up and the sheets came off his muscular body. Dean went to the calendar and looked on the date of August 1st. That was visiting day. Bobby would come visit him. Maybe Bobby would bring Rufus. Dean picked up his headphones and iPod and chose a different song, Ramble on by Led Zeppelin. His spirits immediately lifted and he played the air guitar throughout the entire song. When it ended he looked through an old car magazine and gazed at the beautifully taken photographs of the cars he loved. There was still an hour left, so he lay back down in his bed and fell asleep.

'Dean! Dean it's breakfast time!'

Dean woke up sweating. He looked over at his open door and Mr. Alistair was standing there continuing to knock.

'I'm up!' Dean said, groaning afterwards.

Dean trudged through the hallway in the line of people talking loud enough to be heard from outside the building.

'Demons.' Dean muttered. 'Fucking demons.'

To him everyone was a demon. His hatred of people was what led Dean to do what he did. It was never really difficult for him to do. He saw past the screaming and the crying and he could see the soul of the person who was afraid of him. And he saw evil and greed and cruelty. The emotions of one would never stop him from doing it.

Food. Dean loved food. That's what he loved about the mornings there. As soon as he turned the corner and saw the food being served he smiled. There was a large board in the dining hall showing what was eaten and on what days. He found Tuesday and grinned. He turned to the man behind him.

'Tuesday- pig in a poke.'

He was given a strange look so he continued to walk in the line then took a plate from the stack.

Castiel had woken up that morning at 7:00. After a 10 minute jog he made poached eggs and toast and a skim latte- the perfect breakfast for him.

He sipped his coffee and read from the newspaper whilst classical music played from the $500 speakers he had bought that month. He finally took all his clothes off and had a shower, using the new shampoo he had bought that was half price. He enjoyed saving money on the basic needs so he could buy more expensive things to make him feel wealthier. Castiel worked as a psychotherapist. He had been fully qualified for two years, first working at an institute on the other side of Kansas, and now- he was working in Lawrence. He had now been living there for two weeks, and the place was already feeling like home. His apartment was set out exactly how he liked it. The kitchen had been renovated only three years previously, the living room looked like something in a magazine even without the furniture, and the bedroom would make you comforted just by looking at it.

Things were going great for him in Lawrence. After his shower he looked through his patient's file one more time. Since he was still newly qualified, they were only giving him one patient at the institute. And then, perhaps in a years time, they would give him more patients to care for. Although- the guy he was looking after- they must have been trying to set a real challenge for him. Castiel couldn't deny he wanted a challenge if he was only given one patient- and they sure gave him a challenge. Dean Winchester, 30 years of age. He was surprised at first by how young he was- but a mental illness can happen to a person at anytime in their life. Something that struck Castiel though was Dean's appearance. His green eyes, his jaw, his cheeks. Castiel was gay, and his family and friends had known that for five years, but he had only had two relationships that really meant something to him- and they both failed. One had broken up with him and the other cheated on him. Castiel stared at Dean's photograph and couldn't take his eyes of it. But it was silly- he couldn't be attracted to him. He suppressed his feelings, closed his folder, and dressed himself.

Dean ate by himself again. He was okay with it. A lot of the people in the institute were hard to cooperate with, and he ended up just having to bite his arm like always and would try to fight back the urges. After he ate his breakfast he called over one of the staff members.

'Hey- you got any of that pie left from last night?' He asked. The staff member smiled, shook his head and left.

'Fucking demon.' Dean muttered.

Dean wasn't sure why he called most people demons. He had always thought that maybe it was because of how many times he had seen The Exorcist. Or maybe because that was what his father would call his mother when they argued. He saw demons as bad things, and Dean knew he was a good thing, so he called everyone demons.

After having a shower he went back to his room and turned up his music loud since everyone was awake now. As he sang loudly to Bob Seger, there was a knock at the door. He paused the music and opened it. Mr. Alistair again.

'Hello Dean- your session is now, would you like to come with me?'

Dean nodded.

'Now you remember what I said to you yesterday Dean? You have a new doctor?'

Dean nodded.

'Do you want to know his name?'

Dean shook his head. Mr. Alistair opened the door for him and he went into the room where he would talk with his doctors. There was a comfortable seat in the middle that he would always get to sit down in.

'He'll be in here in a minute just wait.' Mr. Alistair closed the door.

There were a lot of posters in the room about emotions and feelings. Dean hated that crap. The only thing he usually talked about to the doctors was his point of view on people. He talked about demons often and how bad they were.

The door opened, and in walked a tanned man with short brown hair. He wore a long trenchcoat and looked funny to Dean. His tie wasn't even tied properly. The man put his trenchcoat on the coat rack and sat opposite Dean.

'Hello Dean,' he greeted him, showing out his hand. 'I am Castiel, a psychotherapist.'

Dean remained frowning with his arms tucked under eachother and didn't show any care to Pastel or whatever he name was.

Castiel could feel himself sweating.

'Oh fuck fuck fuck well fuck he didn't shake it he hates you the institute is going to fire you you can't help him.' He thought. Castiel forced a smile and pulled his hand back to himself.

'So Dean.' He asked. 'How are you?'

'What happened to the other guy?'

'Robert? Oh he, he retired.'

'Your tie isn't done properly.'

Castiel looked down at his tie.

'Oh I'm sorry I- I was in a rush this morning.' He adjusted his tie and smiled again.

'So what do you like to do Dean? What are your hobbies?'

'Fishing... driving... hunting.'

'Hunting? What do you like to hunt?'

'Mostly deer.'

'Deer? Interesting. Do you have a favourite food?'

Dean frowned.

'Well I- I,' he smiled with pride, 'I do like a good piece of pie.'

'I'll be right back.' Castiel left the room.

Dean sure was pissed off. What had happened to Robert? It took him a month to get used to that old guy, and now they just force someone else on him? He really was starting to loathe the place. And where the fuck had he gone? Dean's brought into the room and has to meet this square fucker, and then he just leaves the room? Probably discussing how much of a nutjob Dean is, despite knowing him for barely two minutes. Then, the door opened. Dean raised his eyebrows. Castiel walked in with a plate (and fork) of apple pie and a large dollop of cream.

'I thought you'd be hungry- and they had some of this left so I thought maybe it would relax you a bit.'
Dean smiled, but then suppressed it and frowned again. Castiel gave him the plate and he looked from the pie to the doctor as if the food was poisoned.

'Oh, go ahead.'

Dean smiled and stabbed the fork into the pie, revealing the chunks of apple and the specks of cinnamon spread about the sauce. He put it into his mouth and relived the nostalgia from his childhood.

'Mmm.' Then he remembered the dumb doctor sitting in front of him.

'So- you gonna talk or what?' He asked, with food still in his mouth.

'Dean you have a brother don't you?'

'Yes- I do. Two of them.'

'Oh, I'm sorry I thought you had one...'

'No, one of them is-' he swallowed, 'one of them is my half-brother. You see my dad he-' Dean realised he was opening up to Castiel and he frowned.

'Oh, continue.'

'He uh, he cheated on my mum a few times. He uh... when he found out about the kid he divorced with mum. She was pretty upset at the time.'

'Hmm.'

'Anyway,' Dean took another piece of the pie with his fork and put it into his mouth, 'they lived together for a little while- my mum and dad after the divorce. Just to try keep the family together for a bit longer. Then it happened. My uh-' Dean looked up at Castiel and tried to stop himself from crying, but his eyes began to water.

'She killed herself.'

Castiel nodded.

'I'm sorry.'

'It's okay. So after that- you know.'

'You don't have to tell me, it's okay. Maybe later.'

Dean nodded.

'So tell me about your brothers.'

'Well, Adam, he met our dad when he was about 12. They just talked you know. He introduced him to us. We of course didn't exactly get along at first but we were brothers. After dad died Adam helped us out and he was actually a pretty good guy. We became close and then we were practically best friends you know? And then after his mother overdosed and after gaol he came to us and we just became so much closer.'

Castiel nodded.

'Right now he's doing this program to help homeless people get jobs. I'm really proud of him, the both of us are- Sammy and I.'

'That's good to hear. So Adam went to prison for a while?'

'Yeah. When Adam's mum died he just- he became an alcoholic and was arrested for drink driving. But now he- I'm so proud of him. He's back and I'm so proud.'

'So tell me about Sam.'

Dean swallowed.

'Well- Sam was always a good kid. He didn't have a great start to life you know? Just at six months mum kills herself less than a metre away from him and I think that it's still there subconsciously. Like it really has affected him. I always looked out for him- I just didn't want him going in dad's direction you know?'

Castiel nodded.

'He applied for Stanford University to become a lawyer but they just-' Dean did his best to keep back the tears. 'They didn't accept him because of his scores at highschool and that really hit him hard. It hit the whole family hard- Bobby and I.' Dean looked up. 'We were living with Bobby at the time. It was a couple of years after Dad died.'

'How is Sam now?' Castiel knew exactly where Sam was, but he just wanted to see Dean's reactions.

'Well he uh... after he wasn't accepted into Stanford he just sort of let go of all his ambitions. We went hunting and fishing sometimes but he just didn't like any of it. He didn't get paid much working so money was a struggle for him. Bobby just kept us all together though. Always helping Sam, giving him money... then a few years ago Sam got involved with some bad people.' Castiel could see something dark in Dean's eyes. It wasn't anger, it was anxiety and sadness.

'His girlfriend was a golddigger, just using him for money. When he was with her, Ruby, she introduced him to heroin. And coming from our family all you do is worry so it was just was he needed. He became addicted and he was still addicted when he left her.'

'When he left her?'

Dean nodded. Castiel though, knew that Dean was lieing and it was a completely different story about why Sam and Ruby stopped dating.

'I think that should be it for today Dean.'

'Oh really?'

'It was good to finally meet you.'

'Oh, well thank you. Uh, Mr. Castiel?'

'No, just call me Cas. I'll see you again tomorrow and maybe I'll bring some more pie for you.'

Dean smiled and Cas smiled back. He was proud of what he had done with Dean. He had been given so much, thanks to a slice of pie.

Dean felt strange after meeting with Cas. He was a nice guy, but Dean had never opened up to someone the way he did. On the first day with his other psychotherapist, he just sat there and said nothing. But when Cas was kind enough to give Dean some pie, it really made him feel happy. And if he would get pie every time they would meet, then Dean was happy to talk to Cas.

Castiel sure was proud of himself. He knew he was supposed to stay for at least twenty minutes longer, but Dean finished his pie and he somehow knew that talking would only happen if Dean had a piece of pie to keep him happy. He typed up a report about Dean's history and emailed it to the Institute. Castiel then drove to his favourite restaurant and ordered his usual meal. Penne with a thick tomato sauce and proscuitto. He sat at his usual table and watched the clock as minutes went by. Then his pasta was put in front of him and he took the first bite of the penne. His reaction to the taste reminded him of Dean's when he ate his apple pie. That was a connection. Connections between the doctor and patient are important, so Castiel was pleased that he found something in common that they had. He put the fork into another piece of pasta and put it in his mouth.

'Mmm,' he moaned, 'I'm in heaven.'