'Now, as Doctor Fuller tells me, I understand you drew a picture of Dean before? This was, what, a year or so ago?'

Castiel dipped his head, hiding his eyes from Sam. 'Yes. Jimmy didn't like it.'

Sam nodded, jotting down the response. 'Okay. Well, Jimmy seems more willing to cooperate now, doesn't he?'

A frown adorned Cas' features. 'I wouldn't test 'im, Doc.'

'Could we try?' Sam asked, fishing out a second notepad and pencil from his large jacket pocket. Castiel 'tsked' and shook his head in resignation. Sam pushed the blank paper toward Cas across the padded floor, careful not to get too close as Castiel never reacted well to that.

'I want you to draw me like one of your French girls, Jack.' Dean's grin was huge as he sprawled himself out for Castiel.

Castiel cocked his head to the side, 'My name is Castiel, Dean.'

Dean's laugh boomed, crowding the room with sound. 'Whatever. You better make me look fucking flawless.'

'My drawing skills are rather… limited.'

Sam watched the one sided exchange with interest, noting the lighter atmosphere between Castiel and his hallucination.

'Come on, dude! You're like freakin' Picasso- okay, maybe that's not so great. You gotta at least get my nose the right way up.'

'I understand your knowledge of Picasso's work is far from ample?'

'Hey, man, my knowledge is based on your knowledge.' Dean winked.

Castiel rolled his eyes and inhaled deeply, eyeing the notepad as if it had offended him.

'Castiel?' Sam called his attention. 'All you need to do is give me a… a brief look at what you're seeing.'

Cas frowned but picked up the pencil and pad, tongue sticking out in concentration as he quickly sketched the outline of Dean's head. 'Dean, please keep still.'

Dean's restless form sagged as he exhaled. 'Jesus, this is boring.'

'I've been drawing for four seconds, Dean, stop being so impatient,' Cas murmured, focusing on the line of Dean's jaw. Castiel scowled at the sound of Sam's small chuckle but continued to draw. Dean pulled a pouty pose, eyes on Castiel the entire time. Castiel didn't exactly need Dean to pose, he had every detail of Dean committed to memory, every freckle, every fleck in his irises, everything. Once his drawing was complete, labels of colouring and all, he handed the paper back to Sam and folded his hands in his lap, awaiting a response. He felt calmer and also happy for the opportunity to draw Dean.

'Christ, I look hot,' Dean said as he sidled up to Cas.

'Modesty is a virtue, Dean.'

'What's he saying?' Sam asked as his eyes skimmed over the detailed illustration.

Castiel turned his gaze to Sam, studying him as he in turn studied the picture. 'He is commenting on how atheistically pleasing he looks.'

'Aw, man, Cas! Why'd you have to douche up everything I say?' Dean groaned. Castiel didn't answer, choosing to look at Sam.

'This is very good, Castiel. Very good.'

Sam's quiet words caused Castiel to shift closer to Dean, not knowing how to deal with them.

'Say thank you,' Dean snapped, mood shifting quickly. He slapped Castiel's arm, the flesh turning instantly pink under the power of his palm.

'Hey, hey, hey! Castiel!' Sam's worried voice reached Cas' ears and he hung his head, keeping his gaze away from Dean. Dean hadn't been angry in a long while and Castiel had just been getting used to his carefree attitude. Castiel looked back up at Dean and caught the look of guilt in his eyes just before it vanished, his lips pressed in a hard line.

'Castiel, why did you just hurt yourself?' Sam asked, voice low.

'Don't say anything, Castiel.' The patient flinched at the sound of his full name coming from Dean's lips.

'I thought… A bug…' His clipped excuse was weak but he couldn't bring himself to blame Dean.

Sam nodded but his look was unconvinced. He returned to his seat having lunged forward to see to his patient. He chose to bring the topic back to Dean. 'So, do you see Dean a lot?'

'He's here almost constantly.'

Dean glared at Castiel, angry that he was supplying Sam with more information than just the image of his face. 'I thought I told you I don't trust old man Sammy.'

'Okay, Castiel. You've done brilliantly today. Thank you for showing me Dean.'

Castiel smiled at the sincerity in Sam's voice which only earned a deadly glower from Dean. Castiel cowered away from it, closing in on himself.

'Thank you, Sam,' Cas addressed the doctor, voice hoarse and scared. Sam nodded at him before exiting the cell and locking it behind him.

'Are you okay, Cas?' Dean sounded timid as he edged towards the vulnerable patient.

'You scared me, Dean.'

'I know, baby, I know. I don't want Jimmy here though. You gotta understand why, Cas, please.' Dean's voice was so much softer than before, concerned for Cas and begging.

The nod Castiel gave him was small but inviting, allowing Dean to come closer. 'Okay, Dean.'

The two broken men sat close together in the centre of the cell, not speaking and not needing to.


The picture of Castiel's Dean was burned into Sam's retinas from the sheer amount of time he had spent looking at it since the previous day, trying to decipher where he'd seen the face before, how it had once seemed so insignificant but how he was now in such desperate need to find out who it was. The computer flicked through the hacked database, countless people lighting up the screen with images of their faces. Sam sat back, breathing wearily. The system had been at it for hours and he'd been sat to witness it, becoming more restless by the second. The computer beeped suddenly, causing Sam to bolt upright and then lean forward, eagerly drinking in the program's findings.

'I don't believe it,' Sam gasped, dropping his coffee mug the short distance from his hand to the desk, some of the liquid escaping the confines of the cup and splattering the wood. He shot up out of his chair and grabbed his briefcase, making his way back to the hospital in a hurry, impatient to share the newfound information with the other doctors.


'Dean Smith. An old lover of Castiel's. He matches Castiel's drawing of mirage-Dean to a tee.' Sam scrubbed his calloused hand over the growing stubble on his jaw, looking at the file on the computer monitor. The face that stared back at him was Castiel's sketch in the flesh through pixels. 'I'm assuming he was before the Crowley ordeal.'

'I can't believe we didn't think of this before, of looking it up,' Doctor Fuller said from behind Sam, voice filled with annoyance.

'How do you know he was an old lover?' Nurse Foreman asked from the back of the room.

'Well… it's pretty damn obvious, isn't it? I need to track him down for confirmation…'

'Wait a minute, if you don't know for sure then-'

'But you can't ignore that he's a real person, Doctor!' Sam burst out. He sighed, 'Look, Castiel's based this hallucination on reality. I don't know why I come into play, why Castiel has included me in his alternate reality, but I'm getting to the bottom of this case, okay? So please, would you help me track down Dean Smith?'

Sam faced Doctor Fuller, eyes burning into the other man's. The older doctor exhaled loudly, 'Yes, of course we'll help. Of course.'

'Thank you.'

'He's gonna be a bitch to find, I bet,' Nurse Foreman piped up, bluntly. 'But yeah, I'm in, Wesson.'

Sam smiled fondly at the younger nurse and stood up, regarding both of the room's occupants before moving to leave the room.

'Oh, Sam?'

'Yeah?'

'Look… I think it's best that you don't consult Castiel about this just yet. He's rather distressed and I think it would be good to find out a little more background information from Dean himself before going in.'

'Yes, that… yeah, I'll do that. Thank you, doctor.'

Doctor Fuller nodded and then turned back to his desk, effectively dismissing all further conversation. Sam left the room with a little more hope settled in his chest.


Thank you TrulyMetalwings for the drawing idea :)