where there

Castiel walked into his office, bleary-eyed and pale-faced. Every step was a struggle and his vision seemed foggy, at best. Even in high school his insomnia didn't hit him as hard. He had thought that with age it would get better; it did not.

With a sigh, he hung his leather bag over the back of his wooden chair and placed his triple-shot Starbucks coffee cup on the desk he rarely had the luxury of sitting at for long. It wasn't particularly comfortable but he had half a mind to put his head down and try to catch a couple winks if nothing out of the ordinary happens. But of course, when he heard the doorknob handle turn, he nearly groaned in complaint. He had once tried to get used to the weary lifestyle, but it just seemed to get harder and harder.

"You officially have another patient in your ward," were the first words that Castiel heard that Thursday morning. Uriel, a fellow coworker at the Sioux General Institute, handed him a manilla folder familiar and identical to several others inside the cabinet behind the large wooden desk. "Good luck with him," Uriel said, before walking out. Castiel sighed, remembering the heated episode with his new patient. Certainly, he had patients that were more than a bit difficult, but they normally didn't have the strength of a demon. He was sore and bruised in numerous places, more than he bothered to count. Rubbing his eyes with his free hand, he placed the file named 'Dean Winchester' on his desk. He could look at that later. Right now, he had a group counseling session to go to.

They were all already waiting for him when he got in the room. He put a big smile on his face, addressing each and every one. "How are you feeling?" They went around in a circle like always. Becky, to Castiel's right, went first. "Oh! I made a new friend!"

This was an interesting turn of events: usually, she was moping about now having more people to make friends with. "Who might that be?"

"Bells!" Her arms went around the apathetic woman next to her, shocked at having been disturbed while inspecting her nails. She shook the blonde off of her, replying in an icy tone. "My name is Bela, if you would so kindly refer to me as."

"Bells is just getting use to this friendship thing," Becky went on, completely ignoring the other woman. She tended to get stuck inside of her own mind and emotions. On the other hand, Bela couldn't care less about...anything, really. How they managed to even talk to each other was a mystery. Becky pet Bela's hair like the latter was a very valued pet. "She's cold on the outside, but I'm sure she has a soft side somewhere."

Castiel moved on. "Benny, how was your day?" The man shrugged in response. "Gotta live for the next day, my friend. There's nothing else we can do." Castiel didn't know what to do with that information; he moved on once again.

"How's that book going, Chuck?"

Another shrug, and some muscle spasms. "Writer's block."

"Donna?"

"My diet isn't going very well." Oh, good news for once. Castiel was glad that they were able to separate her from her abusive boyfriend; his remarks and sadistic tendencies forced her to severe anorexia and his asphyxiation tendencies during sex caused brain damage. She was doing much better, but nothing seemed to be able to put her back together. "But I think I'm going to start again."

"Now, what would you achieve from that?"

"I...people would love me more. He didn't love me because I was too ugly." A flash of anger and helplessness spread through Castiel before he gave Donna another smile. "Ugliness doesn't determine how much love you receive, especially here. Please remember that, Donna."

"Now, Eleanor..." Castiel trailed off, looking around the room. He sighed. "Who organized everybody into alphabetical order again?" All pointed looks directed his own gaze towards a tall, skinny male that was shifting nervously in his seat. "It was too messy," Garth blurted out. "I just sorted things out. And I couldn't stop thinking about the alphabet yesterday. Someone was trying to tell me something, and I couldn't even sleep!" His nervous tick of rubbing his wrists until they were rubbed raw and red came back again. The circle of about seven people were small enough that the doctor could reach over and gently separate his hands. "It's okay, Garth. Just come talk to me or another doctor when you can't sleep, alright?"

He nodded.

"Alright, so does anyone care to share..."

After the group therapy ended Castiel made his way towards the front desk. There was some paperwork that he had to fill out to make sure that former patient Hamish Batson's would be able to be released quickly. He hadn't even gone more than two hallways when something forced him to slam into the wall, arm twisted behind his back in a painful and awkward position. Someone's breath was hot on his neck, and even from this angle Doctor Novak could tell that the patient was panicking. The blue-eyed male inhaled and exhaled several time, keeping himself calm. God knows this wasn't the first time he had been manhandled by one of his patients. And by the strength, it was probably the new one.

"Excuse me-"

"Christo." Ah, so it was the newest one.

"Dean? Please let go of me." He was released but then spun around again so that instead of his face, it was his back pressed against the wall. How wonderful. Angry and familiar green eyes stared into his own, anticipating something. "Dean...Winchester, was it? Now, if you release me we can talk this out like civilized adults." They were dangerously close, and Castiel was close enough to be able to count each individual freckle on the other man's nose and cheeks. For some reason, that seemed very innocent on such a hurt and dark man such as Dean Winchester.

Suddenly, Winchester backed off, eyes flickering from his face to the wall and back. "You...No, no that's not possible." He stalked off, running down the hall and out of sight around a corner. Castiel sighed, brushing himself off and walking off in the opposite direction. Sometimes he wondered if it was possible to have a normal lifestyle and a normal workstyle.

Well, if he had wanted normal he wouldn't have chosen to work in a mental hospital.

is rest