Castiel Dreams

Castiel was standing at the rail of a ship, looking out across the open ocean. Well, not quite open. Another ship was on the horizon. He stared around himself in awe and confusion. He was on an old style English merchant ship.

"Hey, Novak!" someone called.

Novak. The name sounded familiar, but Castiel couldn't place it. "Is that my name?" he whispered.

"You feeling okay, Novak?" the man asked.

"I'm not sure," Cas said. He looked out over the ocean. "What ship is that?"

"Just another merchant vessel," the guy said. "We'll pass by them soon."

Castiel rubbed his eyes. "My head feels funny."

"Go below for a few minutes," the man recommended. "It'll storm in a few hours, and you'll want to be healthy for that."

Castiel went below decks and lay in a hammock. The rocking of the boat helped him feel better for a few minutes. Then the boat jostled, and people started yelling above deck.

"What's happening?" he asked, sitting up.

Castiel heard cannon fire and gunshots.

"Oh, no," he whispered. This wasn't good. He looked around for weapons, but he didn't appear to have any. If an enemy came down from the battle, Cas would be defenseless.

The cannon fire continued, and Castiel heard wood breaking. A crack appeared in the side of the ship, and water leaked through.

"Uh-oh," Cas whispered. This wasn't good.

The ship lurched strangely. Castiel ran out of the room and onto the deck. The sail was knocked over by a cannon ball, and a piece from it hit Castiel hard on the head. He saw stars, and the next few minutes passed in a dizzy blur. Cas ended up in the water by an intact ship, dazed and clinging weakly to a floating board.

Castiel noted that the ship was flying pirate sails. That was no merchant ship. He lost his grip on the board. Too weak to swim, he started sinking. He was too dizzy to even tread water.

Cas saw someone dive off the side of the pirate ship. There was no noticeable splash when he hit the water, which impressed Castiel. This man could dive. He grabbed Castiel around the waist and pulled him out of the water.

There was a rope, and Castiel had the blurry impression that they were floating through the air. Then he was on the deck, in the arms of the man who'd rescued him. The man tried to get Cas to stand on the deck, but Cas' legs couldn't take his weight and the man gave up.

"Who are you?" Castiel asked. His voice was rough from the saltwater.

"I'm Dean," the man said.

"Captain Winchester?" a voice asked.

"Yeah?" Dean asked.

So he's the pirate captain, Castiel thought. Cool! I always wanted to be a pirate.

The rest of the exchange was lost on Cas, but he noticed when Dean handed him to someone else. He moaned weakly in protest but he didn't think anyone heard. This new person wasn't as gentle as Dean. He dragged Castiel below deck and roughly chained him up with a bunch of other prisoners from Castiel's ship.

The chains hurt, and Castiel's head throbbed. Maybe pirates are less cool than I thought.

One by one the other captives were taken away, until Castiel was the only one left. By this time he was scared. None of the other people had come back. What had happened? Were they free or dead? Was Cas going to die? He didn't want to die. It couldn't just end now. He had his whole life left to live.

Castiel was scared. Pirates were not nice. He struggled a little against the chains, and they dug deeply into his wrists. He started to cry from a combination of fear and pain.

Two pirates came in. "Ow," one said. "This feller's a cutie. Bet he'd taste real good."

Taste? Castiel wondered. Are they- cannibals? Never mind, I don't want to know.

"Think the Cap'n's got somethin' special planned fer this un," the other said, leering at Castiel.

Cas shivered and winced when they unchained him, but he didn't put up any serious resistance. They had to drag him out of the brig because he was still too weak to walk. They weren't at all gentle. They reached their destination and dumped Castiel on the ground. He was too weak to get up.

"You can go," a familiar voice said.

Castiel heard footsteps and a door closing.

"Dean?" Cas asked weakly.

"Hey, kiddo," Dean said. "Sorry about that." He helped Castiel sit up.

"It's fine," Castiel said softly. He tucked his knees against his chest and hid his face behind them.

"It's really okay," Dean said. "Nobody here'll hurt you."

Castiel cautiously showed Dean the bloody rings on his wrist from the chains.

Dean sighed.

"And they already have," he said. He went across the room, and Castiel heard the sound of a drawer opening and closing.

Dean came back with gauze, a tube of something, and scissors. Castiel was rather fixated on the scissors. They didn't look like a torture mechanism, but they could certainly hurt.

"What are you going to do?" Castiel asked in a whisper.

"Give me your hand," Dean ordered instead of answering.

Castiel didn't feel confident enough to refuse or vocally question Dean's orders, but he looked up at Dean with scared, questioning eyes.

"Just give me your hand already," he said. "I'm not going to cut it off."

Castiel guessed that compliance was probably the safest option. He hesitantly extended his arm toward Dean, who proceeded to clean and bandage the wound on Cas' wrist. Dean used the scissors that had so scared Castiel to cut strips off the gauze.

"Thank you," Castiel said softly.

"It was my fault in the first place," Dean countered. "The other arm?"

"You saved my life in the first place," Castiel corrected as he gave Dean his other arm. "A few cuts on my wrists are a small price to pay."

"And I attacked your ship," Dean said. "That makes everything that's happened to you my fault."

Castiel shrugged, then winced at the pain that shot through his head. He studied Dean.

"I can't be the only injured person after that battle," he said. "What made you decide to help me?"

"No idea, kid," Dean said. "You got a name?"

"Castiel," Cas said. "Castiel Novak."

"Castiel. Your parents into angels or something?" Dean asked.

"I think they just liked the name," Castiel said. "My mother had interesting taste, and she wanted something unusual."

Dean noticed Castiel's expression darken at the mention of his mother, but he knew better than to say anything.

"You banged your head," Dean noted.

"Yeah," Cas said. "It's not that bad." He tried for a weak smile.

Dean gently touched Castiel's forehead and Cas flinched, crying out.

"Not that bad, huh?" Dean asked. "Cut the Spartan act."

"Okay," Castiel said meekly. "It hurts a lot and I feel kinda dizzy."

"Come on," Dean said. "I can't really treat that, but rest should help."

He helped Castiel stand. Dean let go, and Cas would've fallen. Dean caught him.

"I'm pathetic," Castiel complained. "This is awful."

"It's normal," Dean told him. "That head injury's not pretty."

"I should've been more careful," Castiel said.

"Sinking ships are hard places to be careful, Cas," Dean said. "Don't beat yourself up about it."

"I guess," Castiel agreed.

Dean helped Castiel sit on the bed.

"Just rest for now," Dean said. "I'll see you in the morning."

"But this is your cabin," Cas protested.

"How far do you want to walk?" Dean asked rhetorically. "I'll sleep on the couch."

He left, not giving Castiel an opportunity to protest. Castiel lay down. He was asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes.

Sometime later Castiel woke. His head felt better, so he sat up and looked around. Dean was sitting at a desk on the other side of the room with his back to Castiel. He appeared to be writing something.

Castiel didn't want to disturb Dean, but he didn't have anyone else to talk to or anything to do. He walked softly over to Dean and stood behind him.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said.

Dean startled and looked up. "Morning, Sunshine."

Castiel was a little baffled at being called Sunshine, but he didn't mind.

"How're you feeling?" Dean asked.

"A lot better," Castiel said. "I think the rest helped."

"And your wrists?"

Castiel winced. "They're fine," he said.

Dean gave Castiel a very unimpressed look.

"I said cut the Spartan act, remember?" Dean asked with a frustrated expression on his face. "Downplaying stuff like that won't help anyone."

"They could be worse," Castiel said.

Dean just looked at him.

"Okay, they hurt," Castiel admitted. "A lot. I think I slept on them wrong."

Dean took Castiel's hand and cut the bandage off. The cuts were only a little better than they'd been the night before.

"Those chains really got you," Dean said as he replaced the bandages with clean ones.

"It'll heal," Castiel said.

"Yeah," Dean agreed.

Castiel's eyes snagged on a clock on the wall. "Why does that clock have thirteen hours marked on it instead of twelve?" he asked.

Dean casually glanced at the clock. "I don't know. It was here when I stole the ship."

"You stole her?" Castiel asked curiously.

"I'm a pirate, Cas," Dean said. "What did you expect? I renamed her, too."

"What's her name?" Castiel asked. "I was below decks for most of the fight and didn't catch it when I was in the water."

"Technically she's the Impala," Dean said. "I always call her Baby, though."

Ten minutes and a hundred questions later Castiel had forgotten all about the clock on the wall that was clicking upwards to thirteen. Dean had a million things to distract him with, and Castiel was entirely happy. Pirates were really cool.

Several hours later Castiel was tired enough to have to rest again. Dean lent him a book, and for a while he read without any problems. But one of the characters was named Jack. That name frustrated Castiel for some reason. He felt like he knew someone named Jack. There was something important…

But Cas couldn't remember. Then he realized something scary. He couldn't remember anything. No friends; no family. He didn't even know what ocean the Impala was on, or how he'd ended up on a ship in the first place. The only reason he knew his own last name was because the sailor on the merchant ship had called him Novak.

How had this not worried him before?

Castiel decided to go ask Dean about it. He found Dean alone on deck.

"Dean?" Castiel asked. "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure, Cas," Dean said. "What's wrong?"

"I- I can't remember anything," Castiel said. "And this ship- It's fake, isn't it?" He wasn't sure where the thought had come from, but he was sure he was right.

"Castiel." Dean sighed. "Yeah, you're right. It's fake."

"But why are we here?" Castiel asked.

"I brought us here," Dean told Castiel. "It's cool, right? You needed a break, dude. The real world can be stressful."

"But what happened?" Cas asked. "Dean, where were we? Why do I feel like you're lying?"

"I'm just stretching the truth a little," Dean said. "You don't need to know the whole thing. Besides, the facts are kind of stretchy. They're practically mozzarella."

Castiel stared at Dean, not saying anything.

"Dude, it's just, like, an expression," Dean said. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Castiel turned away. He started to leave, head lowered.

"Cas, are you feeling okay?" Dean asked.

"I'm fine, Dean," Castiel said. "Let me go."

"I'm not touching you."

"Let me out of this illusion, Dean," Castiel said.

"Can't you just live it up a little while you've got it?" Dean asked. "I mean, it is a pirate ship. You've always wanted to be on one of those, right?"

"I don't remember that," Castiel said. "Dean, why can't I remember anything? What've you done to me?"

"Oh, go figure it out," Dean said, snapping his fingers.