Dean tried hard to feel happy for Castiel. After all, the guy was about to meet his brother and go home to his wife and kid. But instead, his chest ached and his head throbbed. If there had been any doubt in Dean's mind that he was in love with Castiel, it was gone now. Jimmy, he reminded himself earnestly. He's Jimmy, not Castiel. And that's the whole story in a nutshell, Winchester. You were in love with a guy who didn't exist! Jimmy's got a family, a wife and kid and brother. Castiel wasn't anything more than someone you made up to play house with, while a real man with amnesia was missed by a little girl you didn't even think about!
Jimmy seemed more confused than anything else. Seated at the kitchen table, for once, he wasn't touching his food. Jess, insisting that he eat something before he set off on what could potentially be a very long journey, had made everyone sandwiches. Dean suspected it helped her, to keep busy before she could run out the door for work. The closest she'd come to breaking down was when she'd hugged Dean after wishing Jimmy well. Then she'd left the three men sitting with their sandwiches. But no one had much of an appetite.
Dean couldn't remember ever sitting in Sam's home in silence before. He was just glad that the kids were already at school, even though that meant they hadn't had a chance to say goodbye. Lilly had started a drawing last night that was hanging, unfinished, on the fridge. It showed three stick figures standing together, all three with big smiley faces for heads. Lilly, who was just learning her letters, had drawn an D with an arrow pointing to one and an L pointing to the other. D and L were depicted, as usual, holding hands. Dean had a similar picture in his cubicle at work. Later, she would add the typical details of the castle they would live in and the dragon that guarded their castle. But this time, there was a third figure in the picture, standing behind D and L, marked with a C. For some reason, C's arms were quite long and depicted as held up in a V. Apparently, C was excited for D and L and declaring it a victory. Dean wasn't sure if the victory was D's or L's. Normally, the picture would bring an instant smile to his face. But today, it hurt so much that he could barely stand to look at it. Lilly had already grown attached, already included Castiel - Jimmy! - in her drawings, and the shy little girl didn't do that for anyone. But Dean understood. He had won a place in Dean's heart just as quickly.
"How about I put your sandwich in a bag for you, Jimmy?" Sam called. "I get the feeling you're not up to eating it right now."
Troubled blue eyes turned to Sam. Then they returned to Dean. He'd been staring at Dean like this since the phone call, not saying a word, just looking at him. Dean didn't know how to respond. It was the same look he'd gotten when he'd left for work yesterday, a Cass-ism for "I am upset that you are leaving me." But this was worse. It was more than sadness and loneliness. Somehow, it seemed as if Dean was failing Jimmy in some way, that Jimmy was hurt and disappointed in him. Dean supposed that Jimmy was probably frightened. After all, he didn't remember this Michael that was going to meet him, to take him away from the only person he trusted. But there was nothing Dean could do except eat a delicious sandwich that tasted like ashes in his mouth and avoid his gaze.
Sensing Dean's distress, Sam quietly put Jimmy's untouched sandwich into a bag. "Dean, it's time to go," he said softly. "I'll drive you, ok? You can stay with him in the back. I think you both need that."
Dean only nodded.
Sam gently steered the two into the back of his minivan. Then he'd driven them in silence back to Dean's new apartment to pick up Jimmy's things.
The apartment already seemed empty. It was about to get emptier.
As Sam drove them to the hospital, Dean tried to be cheerful. "Your brother Michael is going to meet us with Donna," he explained. "He's going to take you home, buddy. You'll finally be able to go back to where you belong, with people who love you and were worried about you."
Jimmy seemed to flinch. The blue eyes were huge as they stared back at Dean.
"It seems like you did remember some information about your past," Dean forced himself to continue. "Your real name is Jimmy Angelo, and you really are a security escort! Donna said you were escorting some scientist working for the government who was transporting a top-secret prototype weapon. That's pretty much what those Homeland Security goons said. So I guess they were telling the truth after all."
"Told you," Sam called. "You don't want to know what you don't know!"
"I still don't get it," Dean complained, glad of an excuse to look away from Jimmy's eyes to roll his own at Sam. "It still doesn't make sense for all the reasons I said before. But I guess it's the truth after all." He paused, frowning. "Except, if you were providing security escort services, why didn't you have a gun, or at least a holster? The hospital gave back all of your belongings, everything you had on you. And there wasn't so much as a pocket knife! You didn't even have a wallet, or any sort of licensure, and wouldn't you need something like that to do that sort of job? It just doesn't make sense! And I still don't understand why Donna couldn't trace you through your fingerprints. You'd surely have to be fingerprinted to do your job, right? Your whole identity should have been right here on the tips of your…"
Dean trailed off, staring at the tips of Jimmy's fingers. "Um, Sam?" he called. "What does it mean when someone doesn't have fingerprints?"
"That he's way deep into some serious shit, that's what it means," Sam declared. "And that's your answer as to why no one could trace him. Probably had his fingerprints removed so he couldn't be traced. He was doing security work for the government, Dean. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised to find out someone wiped the poor guy's memories on purpose!"
"If his fingerprints were removed, wouldn't there be scar tissue or something?" Dean asked, still frowning at Jimmy's hand. "He doesn't even have prints on his hands! This is really weird."
"Don't overthink it, buddy," Sam advised. "There's probably way more going on here than you and I are ever going to find out." He shook his head. "But I bet our friend is going to be right back in the middle of it before long."
"Yeah." Dean couldn't disguise his worry. He looked up, daring to meet Jimmy's gaze. "Please be very careful out there, ok? There are some real monsters in the world, and it's people like you that work to defend others from them."
Jimmy remained silent. Since they'd picked up his things, his face had become expressionless. His eyes were solemn and impossible to read. But the look he kept giving Dean made Dean want to cringe. It was almost accusatory, as if he'd somehow disappointed or betrayed Jimmy's trust. Twice now, he'd reached out a hand tentatively towards Dean, only to quickly pull it back. Now he gently pulled free of Dean. He folded his hands into his lap and lowered his eyes, seeming lost in his thoughts.
Dean was trying hard not to get lost in his own. His memories of his short time with this beautiful man played over and over again in his mind. The silly mistakes he'd made, like biting into a plastic spoon. The silly, sexy time he'd strolled naked and dripping wet out into the room. The way they'd danced together. How he'd cried when Dean had played guitar, and the way he'd pulled Dean into his arms. How good it felt this morning, just lying in those arms, pressed against that strong, solid body. Dean had to close his eyes and focus on breathing to regain his control. Don't fall apart, he warned himself. He's upset enough. Don't let his last memory of you be of you sobbing like a child!
Dean dug into a pocket and produced a folded slip of paper. This he gently pushed into the breast pocket of Jimmy's shirt. "This is my number, and my new address," he said. "If you ever need anything, even if you just need someone to talk to? All you have to do is call. And if you ever need me, I don't care if Michael takes you clear across the country. I'll get to you even if I have to hitchhike!"
Jimmy still didn't look up, and Dean's resolve finally broke. He shook his head, fighting back tears. "Dammit! I don't want you to go!"
Sam looked sharply at him in the rearview mirror. "Dean? You're not being fair. I get what you must be feeling, buddy, but you can't keep him."
"I know, Sam!" Dean shot back. "I took him in, and I let myself get too attached. I should have known all along that I'd have to give him up eventually. I guess I just didn't expect it would be this soon. And I know I have to give him up, alright? I know he's got a wife and a little girl, and I have no business under God being this selfish, but I cannot help myself!"
Dean turned to the man sitting next to him, who was now watching him intently, and took his hand again, clutching it to his chest. "I love you, Cass! There, I said it, and I mean it. I know you have your own life and I have no right to put this shit on you. I certainly don't expect anything in return. But I have to tell you, because I'll never get another chance. Castiel, you're the best damned thing that ever happened to me, and I want you to know how glad I am that I got to know you."
Silence. The blue eyes seemed to bore through Dean.
Dean let go of Cass - no, Jimmy - and rubbed at his face with shaking hands. "Tomorrow, I'll go back to my shithole of a life where Sam's the only good thing in it. I'll have to deal with Bela and whatever else fate decides to throw at my head because I apparently ran over Cthulhu's dog in another life. Or maybe because I'm just Fate's bitch? Homeland Security's probably going to arrest me and send me to Gitmo for lying to them during an investigation. Then I can get prison raped by terrorists. Or maybe I'll have a plane drop out of the sky onto my new car and destroy my new apartment, the way my luck has been lately. But even then, I'm still going to be glad that I got to meet you and be with you, just for a little while."
Silence. Jimmy looked at Dean for a bit longer. Then he returned his gaze to his hands in his lap.
Sam turned into the hospital parking garage. Dean stared moodily out the window, embarrassed at his outburst even as he was glad he'd finally told the man he loved how he felt.
The crowded hospital parking garage did nothing to help Dean's headache. Sam had to climb to the sixth floor to find an open parking spot. Once he pulled in, no one moved. All three sat, silent and still, in the minivan.
The tension in the van was palpable. Dean discovered he had trouble breathing, as if the air had somehow become thick. He looked over, but Jimmy was looking out the window now. He looked pale. As Dean glanced at Jimmy's hands, he saw they were clenched into tight fists. Jimmy was visibly trembling. "Hey," Dean called. "You're going to be alright. You're going back to where you belong."
Dean reached out a hand to touch Jimmy's shoulder. The man violently flinched, whirling on Dean. He stared for a moment at Dean, hurt evident in his eyes. And then, without a word, Jimmy took off his seatbelt, opened the door, and climbed out of the van.
Dean wasn't sure his legs would support him as he got up and followed Jimmy out. He wobbled a bit, the world going grey for a moment as his head throbbed. He caught himself before he fell, waited for the world to return to normal. Then he climbed gingerly out.
Jimmy had moved to the wall and was leaning against it, his head resting on the back of his left arm. As Dean watched, he pounded the side of his right fist against the wall. Then he turned, put his back against the wall, closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and sighed deeply. His eyes were full of resignation as he looked at Dean.
Watching him, Dean was finally sure. "Sam?" Dean called. "We can't just give him to this Michael guy. Something's wrong."
"Come on, Dean," Sam groaned. "This is hard enough without…"
"No, I mean it! Something is wrong, like seriously not right here. It just does not make sense," Dean insisted. He moved closer to Jimmy. "Back at the hotel, I asked if you remembered who you were and you nodded. Do you know who you are?"
Jimmy's brow furled slightly. He nodded.
"And are you Jimmy Angelo?"
Jimmy sighed deeply. Then he shook his head. His eyes were once again locked on Dean, but now they looked hopeful.
"Dean, he's confused," Sam said. "If he knew who he was, surely he would have found some way to tell us by now?"
"I think he's been trying," Dean insisted. "I just haven't given him the right words yet."
Sam moved closer. "Listen," he began, keeping his voice low. "Jimmy is pretty special, alright? I know how much I don't want to give him up, and I barely know the guy! You've been with him for days. I get that you've fallen pretty hard for him. But speaking as a husband and a father?" He shook his head. "I cannot imagine how I would feel in his position. He doesn't remember his old life, and it's real plain that he's attached to you, buddy. The idea of going with someone who seems like a stranger to him, to go back to this abstract idea of a wife and daughter that he has no memory of? He's got to be scared to death!" Sam squeezed Dean's shoulder, face serious. "But Dean? If this ever happened to me, and I had a chance to get back to Jess and my babies? I pray to God that whoever was with me had the strength to let me go. Because there is nothing I would not do for my family. And someday, when Jimmy remembers? I'm betting he'll feel the same way."
That hit Dean hard. His head throbbed, and his resolve wavered. What right did he have to make this decision? Jimmy clearly didn't want to go, but maybe just the sight of his brother would bring back his memories? He imagined Lilly and the twins crying for Sam and felt physically sick. No, he couldn't turn back now, couldn't take Jimmy from his children!
But then he looked once again into those blue eyes and saw the disappointment as hope faded. Dean frowned. "Sam, you're the guy with all the conspiracy theories," he called.
"You mean I have a wider acceptance of truth than you do," Sam corrected irritably.
Dean waved him off. "Whatever, let's look at some truths. Jimmy, can I see your hand a moment?"
Jimmy reluctantly held out his hand. Dean took it, and motioned Sam over. "No scarring, Sam. The skin on his palm and his fingers isn't smooth or hard. This isn't scar tissue. It's just like what you and I have, except there's not a single line. See? No whorls, no loops, no arches."
Sam nodded, frowning. "Yeah, but Dean, there's ways of removing prints."
"What if there's another answer?" Dean pressed, letting go of Jimmy's hand and turning to take Sam's shoulders. "From what I remember from my biology classes, the whorls, loops, and arches of human fingerprints are formed in the womb."
"Congratulations on knowledge retained," Sam retorted. "I know that, Dean, I was valedictorian, remember? What is your point?"
"My point is this." Dean looked hard at his brother. "What if his fingerprints weren't removed? What if he never had them? If fingerprints are formed in the womb and he doesn't have any, what does that say about him?"
Understanding began to dawn in Sam's eyes. "That he was never in a womb," he breathed. "Holy shit. Holy shit! Holy shit, Dean, he's a clone! He's a fucking clone, that's why he's so messed up in the head! Whatever that was that ruined your car and your old apartment, it must have been how he got away. And that's why you had to teach him everything. He was probably fed through a tube before he saved your sorry ass." Sam stared at Castiel in awe. "A real live human clone, no wonder Homeland Security is after him! They're probably just trying to get him back to the lab he escaped from. He could be a next generation supersoldier, or superspy. He…"
Dean shook Sam sharply. "Focus, Sammy! Let's say Castiel is a clone, and all that bullshit you've been spouting off about for years is real. Tell me. Do clones have brothers?"
Sam's head snapped sharply towards Castiel. His jaw set as he looked back at Dean. "Dean, we cannot let these people have him. What do we do? Take off?"
Dean dared to let go of his brother and tried to think. Oddly enough, his headache was better. Castiel was watching them, his eyes flicking back and forth between Dean and Sam, his mouth set into an uncharacteristic frown. Dean rubbed his temples and considered his options. "Ok, Cass may or may not necessarily be a clone, but something is obviously not normal here," he began. "So we're going to have to be very careful from this point on. But the thing is, we need to check into this brother and find out if it's legit."
"Are you kidding me?!" Sam exclaimed. "Brothers don't have clones, or, the other way around, clones don't have brothers, except clone brothers. Whatever, that story has to be bullshit. If we let this Michael Angelo guy take Cass, he's going right back into some government lab and we will never see him again! How the hell could you even consider…?"
"Because what you said before was right," Dean said, looking hard at Sam. "What if the story's true? Sam, if you disappeared on us, I don't know what Jess and the kids and I would do. And I couldn't imagine finding out that you'd abandoned us because you lost your memory! I still think something's off about that whole story, but we gotta look into it, just in case."
"Dean, if we bring Cass in there, they are going to take him," Sam insisted. "He'll be strapped to a table in a government lab within twenty-four hours, tops. We can't risk that!"
"That's why I'm not bringing him in there," Dean declared. "Sam, I want you to wait with him in the car. I'm going to do some recon, go meet with this guy, see if I can't find out what's really going on."
"And what are we supposed to do if they grab you?" Sam wanted to know.
"They can't grab me in front of Donna," Dean assured. "Besides, I'll have my phone, and I'll keep texting you with updates. If anything happens, or if you don't hear from me, you get the hell out, alright?"
Sam was shaking his head. "You are taking one hell of a risk."
"I know. But it's worth it to find out what is really going on here." Dean turned to Castiel, who was once again looking sadly at him. "Cass, I want you to stay with Sam. Alright?"
Castiel looked down, and for a moment, Dean thought he'd refuse to answer. But then he nodded. "Stay with Sam. Alright."
Dean saw them both safely back in Sam's minivan. Then he started for the elevator. As he walked, something caught his eye. Dean stared, taking in the sight of the black SUV with the bone shaped "I heart big mutts (and I cannot lie)" bumper sticker that was parked down the row, only half a dozen cars from where they'd parked. Dean shook his head, not believing his luck. Six floors to this garage not including the roof, and they'd managed to park this close to the two people Dean most dreaded seeing? But at least the vehicle was empty. Dean frowned. Ok, why was Homeland Security here? he thought. To talk to Cass? But how did they know I was bringing him here?
More and more, Dean found himself not believing the story Michael Angelo had told Donna. He sent a quick text to Sam, letting his brother know what he'd discovered. Then he headed into the hospital.
