15 - Alone

Dean's phone was decidedly annoying. After multiple text beeps, it started ringing. Dean ignored it. He remained as he was, lost in a haze of pain. When his phone finally stopped, it was replaced by pounding. Someone was at his door. "Dean! It's Sam, open up!"

Ah. Sam. Apparently, he'd been the one calling him. Dean stayed where he was. There was another round of knocking followed by a soft curse. Then a key was turning in his lock. Apparently, Sam had borrowed Bobby's extra key. That's what Dean got for asking Bobby to check up on his apartment while Dean was away on jobs.

Dean's back was to his bedroom door, but he could hear his brother's footsteps as he walked through the house. A moment later, the steps stopped in the doorway and Sam gasped. Oh, right. Dean was still on the floor, naked and marked with his own dried semen. Dean didn't care. Sam hesitated in the door for a moment before going back out into Dean's living room. Then the footsteps returned. Something soft and warm was gently spread over Dean's body. Ah. Sam had gotten the afghan from Dean's couch and placed it over him.

"I'm here, Dean," Sam said softly. "And I'm not leaving. I'll wait as long as it takes."

Warmth spread through Dean that had nothing to do with the afghan. He closed his eyes a moment too late to stop the traitorous tear that streaked his cheek.

Sam left him alone after that, but frequently checked in on him. Dean stayed where he was. It seemed like hours before Dean got himself under control enough to pick himself up, get cleaned up, and get dressed. By then, he mostly felt numb.

Sam had apparently checked his freezer, found a TV dinner that was probably outdated by several months, and cooked and ate it anyway. He was sitting on the couch with the television on, the remains of his supper on his lap. He looked up when Dean walked in. "Hungry?" was all he asked.

Dean shook his head.

"I'll just make you some soup then," Sam declared, getting up. He helped Dean over to the couch as though the older Winchester was an invalid. Then he went into Dean's bedroom, returned with the afghan, and draped it over Dean's shoulders. Apparently satisfied, he went into the kitchen and started rattling among Dean's pots and pans.

The smell of warm soup made Dean's stomach growl. The last thing he wanted to do right now was eat, but Sam was insistent about putting the bowl and spoon into Dean's hands. Sam had even crushed saltines into the warm broth. Dean ate. The soup sat uneasily in his stomach.

After he ate, Dean abandoned his afghan, went back to the bedroom and curled up on the bed. Sam didn't say anything, apparently content to let Dean do what he wanted now that he'd eaten. Before long, Dean had fallen asleep.

The sun was streaming through the window when Dean finally woke up again. The bed still smelled like sex. Several pieces of black down were on the bed. Dean picked one up, running a finger over the fuzzy edges before putting it on his palm and blowing on it. The down floated up into the air, sank, and vanished over the edge of the bed. He didn't want to be here, in this place where he'd shared something precious with someone he'd believed he loved, only to have them crush him. But at least Sam had come over. Dean didn't know what he would have done if he'd been alone.

Why, exactly, had Sam come over?

Dean sat up, frowning. "Sam?"

"Yeah, Dean?" Sam all but ran into the bedroom. He'd obviously slept in his clothes. His usually-immaculate hair was in complete disarray. Apparently, Sam had spent the night on Dean's couch.

"You look like hell," Dean informed him.

"Don't care," Sam retorted. "Did you need something?"

"Why are you here?" Dean asked him.

"I told you, I'm not leaving you."

"I know, and believe me, I appreciate that," Dean said. "But what made you come over in the first place? Did Jimmy call you?"

"He texted me last night, yes," Sam explained, hesitating. "He said he'd finally convinced you that he wasn't an angel, and it was best if he left. Then he asked me to come over." Concerned green eyes focused on Dean. "I was a fool, Dean. I actually believed that his being with you was a good thing, because it helped remind you that he wasn't an angel. But you still believed he was the whole time, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Dean admitted. He rubbed at his face with both hands. "I'm fucked up, Sam."

"No, you're not." Sam sat close to Dean on the bed. "Dean, I cannot imagine what you're feeling right now, but there's one thing that I want you to understand. Whatever was going through your head? You're still the same brother that I have looked up to my entire life. You went through something terrible, survived the impossible, and it broke something inside of you. But you're so strong, so good at pretending everything's normal, that I let myself believe you when you insisted everything was fine. The only thing that is wrong with you is that you have PTSD. That's something we've been dealing with for six years. The fact that you actually acknowledge it now doesn't mean you're worse. It means you're finally starting to heal."

Dean took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air before letting it out slowly. "I think that's what he wanted," he said. "Jimmy, I mean. You know I called him Castiel after we had sex?"

Sam grimaced. "I saw enough to understand that the two of you had been intimate, unfortunately, and was able to guess at the rest." He paused. "Why don't you just tell me everything from the beginning, what's really been happening with you all this time?"

Dean did. He held nothing back, even admitting that he had indeed been flushing his meds. Sam listened without saying a word. When Dean confessed everything and had gone quiet, Sam still didn't speak. Dreading what was coming, Dean kept quiet.

"You utter asshole," Sam finally declared. "You lied to everyone, Dean. And what about Jimmy? You put Jimmy in an impossible situation, you led him on, and now he's out there on his own when we both know he can barely care for himself."

"You're not telling me anything I don't know," Dean replied, miserably.

"I won't lie and say I'm not upset," Sam said. "But to be honest? I kind of already guessed pretty much all of it." He paused, watching his brother. "What happened in the past is in the past. Now you need to concentrate on where you're going from here. Dean, look at me."

Dean met his brother's gaze.

"Nothing I or anyone else says or does from this point forward is going to matter unless you are honestly, truly committed to changing," Sam said.

"I know," Dean replied. "And I am. In fact, did you bring my pills?"

Sam wordlessly got up and went outside. A moment later, he was back with a bag. He reached in and pulled out the old lady pill minder he'd gotten for Dean.

Dean nodded. Moving to the kitchen, Sam got a glass of water. Then he brought the water and the pill minder to Dean, who had migrated out to the sofa and back into his afghan. Handing Dean the glass, Sam dumped out the correct pills.

Dean immediately popped the pills into his mouth and washed them down with water.

Sam didn't say anything about it. He just put the pill minder on the table and sat down next to his brother.

Dean stared at a patch on the floor. His hand snuck over and grasped Sam's arm. "Thank you."

"Nothing to thank me for." Sam's giant hand closed over Dean's on his arm, squeezing it gently. "Do you want breakfast?"

Dean considered the question. "I don't know," he replied. "My stomach isn't exactly in tip-top shape right now."

"Some oatmeal, then." Giving his brother's hand another squeeze, Sam got up and headed to the kitchen. A short time later, he was back with a steaming bowl of oatmeal.

Dean ate gratefully. "Thank you," he replied when he was finished.

"No problem," Sam said. He collected Dean's dishes, took them out to the kitchen, and then returned. "How about we go out for a walk? Get you out of this apartment, let you clear your head?"

"Actually, I want to know where Jimmy is," Dean said. "I really hurt him, and I need to at least make sure he's ok. Did he go to Bobby's?"

"Only long enough to pick up his things," Sam reported. "Bobby texted me that Jimmy had stopped by in a taxi, shoved his clothes into a duffel bag, told Bobby he was sorry and went out the door. Last Bobby saw him, Jimmy was heading off in his taxi. Bobby wants to know what's going on, but I told him you needed me and I'd fill him in later."

Dean frowned in confusion. "Jimmy was in a taxi? Did he say where he was going?"

"Dean, don't worry about Jimmy right now," Sam ordered. "Bobby can keep tabs on him. Frankly, I'm more worried about you."

"He didn't do anything wrong, Sam," Dean defended, noticing the set to his brother's jaw. "He just told me the same thing he'd been telling me all along, and made me believe it this time."

"I get that he was hurt. I told you that myself. But Dean? He left you naked and shattered, lying on the floor all alone," Sam growled. His hand closed over Dean's. "I understand he was trying to do the right thing, and part of me is worried about where he is too. But right now, my focus is on my brother."

Dean gently pulled his hand free. "Bitch."

"Jerk."

The brothers shared a long look, saying with their eyes what they could never say out loud. "If you're staying with me again tonight?" Dean said, breaking the moment. "You can bunk with me. This couch isn't long enough for your giant ass."

Sam grimaced. "Not until we change these sheets. I think I'll do that now anyway."

"I'd still like to know where Jimmy is."

Sam gave him a bitch face.

Dean returned it.

Sam groaned. "Fine, I'll call Bobby, see if he can't track Jimmy down."

"Thank you."

"Whatever." Sam stepped back into the kitchen and made a quick call. Then he was back, sitting next to Dean on the sofa. "Dean," he began, "you know I've been looking into Jimmy's background?"

"Yeah," Dean recalled. "You found something?"

Sam shook his head. "You'd think it wouldn't be difficult to track a guy with giant black wings, but I couldn't find a thing. I ended up bringing a six pack and some barbecue corn chips to Ash."

Dean nodded, recognizing Ash's usual method of compensation. "And?"

"Well, when he's sober, Ash is still the best online detective Bobby's ever met," Sam continued. "He found out who Jimmy really is."

"Come again?" Dean asked, shocked. "You knew this, and you didn't tell me?"

"Ash just told me yesterday," Sam explained. "I thought you guys were coming back to Bobby's for supper and I was going to tell you then, face to face. Because this needed to be told in person, Dean."

"Ok," Dean conceded. "What's Jimmy's story?"

"His real name is Emmanuel Allen," Sam began. "Or at least that's the oldest name Ash could find. But he's better known by the name Castiel, the Angel of the Lord. Apparently, his partner is this traveling evangelist called Zachariah Adler. They move constantly from place to place, always somewhere backwater and usually dirt poor. There, the preacher puts on this big tent revival, claiming he's got the power to summon the angel Castiel to give his blessing to the congregants. Then Emmanuel comes out, looking the way he does and probably dressed for the part. The crowds fall over themselves to pay for his 'blessing.' There's all kinds of stories, too, about miracles happening, you know, the usual, lame walking, blind seeing, none of which can be verified because the people were never seen before and aren't seen since."

"So this preacher uses Jimmy's mutation to bilk people for money who probably don't even have enough for themselves," Dean growled, hands tightening into fists. "What's the preacher's story?"

"Adler's slippery," Sam told him. "Not even Ash could figure out where that bastard came from, so it's probably not his real name, either. My guess is he stumbled over Emmanuel somewhere, probably when he was very young. Adler got control of Emmanuel some way or another, trained him to do this angel act, and they've been on the road ever since. Adler's careful about where he displays Emmanuel, so usually, the only mention of them is the ad Adler takes out in the local paper. How Ash managed to find them, I'll never know."

"Probably don't want to." Dean swallowed hard. "So Jimmy was telling the truth, wasn't he? About not remembering any of this?"

"That sounds likely," Sam agreed. "My guess is that he and Adler got separated, either because they had a falling out or something happened to Adler and Emmanuel got left on his own. Based on how naive he is, I'm betting Adler kept Emmanuel completely sheltered and isolated to protect his angel act. After all, if anyone saw Emmanuel out and about, the jig would be up."

"So he kept Jimmy locked away, probably for his entire life," Dean guessed. "That's why he was so clueless about everything. It was probably his first time out of whatever hole Adler kept him in, maybe since the day Adler found him. Son of a bitch! If he touches Jimmy, I'll rip his lungs out!"

"Calm down, Dean," Sam warned.

"Don't tell me to calm down! Jimmy, or Emmanuel or whoever he is? He's like a child, and now I understand why. This Adler used him to manipulate a lot of people, just to make a quick buck, while he kept Jimmy under lock and key for most of his life. What kind of life must that have been?"

That sobering thought quieted both brothers. When Sam's phone rang, they jumped.

Sam answered. "Hello? Oh, hey, Bobby. Really? Huh! You know where? Ok, I'll tell him. Dean's ok, or as well as can be expected. Alright. Thanks." Hanging up, Sam turned to his anxious brother. "Bobby says that Jimmy's taxi took him out to the bus station, where he brought a combination ticket for a bus and train trip. Frankly, I'm amazed he figured out to go to the bus station to start his trip back to Louisiana."

"Louisiana?" Dean jumped up. "Sam, he's going back to where I found him! If Adler finds him…?"

"Chances are, he went there specifically to find Adler," Sam offered. "Jimmy's probably trying to go back to find anything familiar."

"Of course he is," Dean snapped. "What else does he have left?" He got up, dragging Sam to his feet. "Come on. He's got a head start, but we'll catch up."

"Catch up?" Sam stumbled after his brother. "Wait, you're going after him? What makes you think he wants to be found?"

"I'm not leaving him alone with this Adler guy," Dean growled. He was already fumbling with Baby's keys. "We'll find him, Sam. If I have to, I'll tear that whole state apart."