AN: So it's been a slow start to this, but I'm writing again and will be able to update chapters more regularly if there are still people out there interested. Thanks to aubrey1 for reviewing, and many others of you who followed/favorited.

Someplace I've Never Been

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Chapter II: "While You Were Sleeping, Part I"

The Levee Breaks

Her phone started vibrating in her hands, the call showing a number she'd almost deleted a half-dozen times. She sighed heavily and wondered if it was worth screening.

"Hello?" she answered reluctantly.

"Val, I get that we ain't supposed to be on speaking terms, but something's happened."

"Why the hell are you calling me, Dean?" Val demanded. "Why can't you just leave me the fuck alo—"

"Look, we just need some fucking help!" Dean interrupted her loudly, but then his voice fell, betraying his worry, and for the first time, Val heard genuine vulnerability from him. "My brother's been hit by a car."

Her mouth dropped in shock, and in that moment her brain was completely blank as she tried to entertain the idea of that moose of a man being physically hurt. It was impossible, really, but there was no mistaking the anxiety in Dean's voice. She sat down at her kitchen table. Hard.

With the hand not holding her cell phone to her ear, she rubbed at her face and sighed.

"Look, Dean—"

"Hey, I know. I wouldn't be reaching out if I didn't have any other options. But my daughter trusts you."

And there went the nail in the proverbial coffin of her soul. Because damn it, he knew just where to hit it.

"If I can't be there, I want her to feel safe," he said.

"I felt safe once," Val challenged, her hackles rising again. "You know, I knew when I met you there was something off…but I trusted you. My little brother idolized you, and Sam for that matter."

"I know," Dean admitted."And if I were you, I'd still be pissed."

Now:

Two Months Later.

Val smoothed the faded white sheets down across Castiel's chest (a decently broad and hard chest, she noted). She was gentle as she laid his arms over the sheets and the crocheted quilt.

"I brought this from home, just so you know," she told him as she held the edge of the old blue quilt. "Don't know why they insist on cranking the AC all the time."

Even if he couldn't actively appreciate the clean sheets, she was sure he was more comfortable now. His handsome face somehow seemed more peaceful than before…or maybe that was just her brain trying to invent things to keep her from going bored out of her mind.

"Anyway, yeah. I told him no, by the way," she nodded sharply. Then she sat down in her usual chair at his bedside, tapped a finger on her lower lip as she stared at his face. "I almost hung up on him on principle alone…until Dean finally let it slip that there was more wrong with Sam than just the accident. There was something wrong with him. In his mind."

Val shook her head.

"And I knew, you know? Elena was just going to keep trying to take care of Bobby and Annie, and now Sam by herself," she said. It came out like a sigh. "Meanwhile, Dean was playing hero, scouring all over God's green Earth for something to help his brother. So what the hell was I supposed to do?"

Then.

She couldn't help it. She called in sick from work, had Matt stay with friends for the weekend, and made the drive south. But it wasn't Elena who opened the door to her own house.

"Aunt Jody, what the hell?" Val exclaimed. Her own aunt, Jody Mills stood there and re-holstered the gun onto her belt. She had her police uniform on, so she must've still been on-call.

"Uh, yeah. This might be a little tough. Come on in," Jody sighed and ushered her in. Val glared at her, but then stepped inside to see a vacant living room. She thought she could hear voices arguing in the kitchen though.

"Is this why you couldn't take Matt for a couple of days?" Val hissed quietly. "You know the Winchesters too, don't you?"

"Look, I'm here as a friend to Bobby Singer. And yeah, as a favor to Elena and those boys," Jody said. She reached out and laid a motherly hand on Val's arm. "Hey, I know you're going at it with them right now, and I get it. But they're going through a rough time. That's why you're here, right?"

Val just shook her head, unable to answer. She hated when the woman was right (which was always).

The hot retort she was ready to fire back was interrupted when Elena finally came out of the kitchen with a tray, balancing a bowl of soup and crackers. Bobby rolled after her in a wheelchair, a surly look on his face.

"Ready?" Jody asked. Elena perked up after she set down the tray in front of the TV for her uncle. She caught Val's gaze, but quickly shifted back to Jody.

"Yeah, please. I already put Annie down for her nap. Thanks, Jody, I really appreciate this," she said with a grateful smile. She turned to Bobby then. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, okay?"

Bobby stared back her for a moment, but eventually he nodded. Jody pulled up the reclining chair next to him so she could help put the spoon in his paralyzed hand. It hurt Val to watch, but she drew near to set a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, old man. Miss me?" she asked. Bobby grunted roughly, but the corner of his mouth lifted in an exasperated sort of smile. "You never call anymore. Thought you forgot about me."

She kissed his cheek and made sure he knew she was coming back after she and Elena took care of their business. He just nodded and turned back to Jody, who he just barely allowed to help him eat his lunch. Val could see it all in his eyes: reluctance, embarrassment, sadness…

Elena grabbed her purse, stuffing it with a few zip-locked bags before she grabbed her keys. Then the two of them were out the door and driving seventy miles per hour in her Camaro.

"So where is this place?" Val finally asked. She was bored sick of the stiff silence.

"Not too far," Elena said. She bit her lip as she sent a careful glance. "I'm sorry Dean called you. Don't know why the hell he did that."

Val scoffed. "You know exactly why."

Elena didn't answer at first. She gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"Why'd you come?" she asked. "Jody has it well in hand for us."

It was Val's turn then, to not really have an answer. She stared out the passenger side window and tried not to think about what they were going to see when they got to St. Mary's Institute of Mental Health.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she said.

"Yeah. I would," Elena retorted. "Look, I get it. You hate me. Then why do you keep showing up?"

Val glared at her right back. "I'm not doing it for you."

"Then what?"

"Maybe I feel sorry for Annie. She's the one who has to grow up with—"

"All right, shut your mouth," Elena said. Her lips tightened with steely anger, brimming just under the surface. "Or I'm gonna kick you out right here, and you can hitchhike back to Sioux Falls."

Val looked over at her, begrudgingly impressed. It wasn't often Elena snapped back at her; between the two of them, Val had always been the hothead. She fought the urge to grin a little.

"Got it?" Elena asked, not looking away from the road. Val hid her mouth behind her hand and nodded.

"Got it, Mr. T. No complaints here."

Elena shot her a look, one that soon faded into a similar smirk before she turned her eyes back to the stretch of highway in front of them.

Elena was getting to the end of her rope, Val could tell. She could see it in the other woman's eyes, the dark circles underneath. And how quickly she lost her patience with the psych ward staff, who claimed Sam wasn't fit for visitors.

"I wouldn't advise it," Dr. Kadinsky said. He turned more cautious when he noticed the growing fury in Elena's eyes, despite her otherwise cool exterior. "His episodes are extreme. He may be…volatile, if he suffers another hallucination."

"Has he reacted violently so far?" Elena asked. Her voice was flat and steady, but Val was actually getting a little worried she might deck the guy.

"No, but his hallucinations have been very disturbing to him."

"Are you afraid of him, doctor?" Elena's frank question seemed to catch him off guard. His eyes shifted.

"Well, it's just a safety precaution. We—"

"Because right now," Elena shifted forward just slightly into the man's personal space. "You should be more afraid of me. I'm not leaving here until you open that door and let me see my brother-in-law."

Kadinsky met the smaller woman's stare for all of three and a half seconds before he sighed. He signed off on the visitation with the condition that a security guard be present in the room—something she nearly fought back against. But Val touched her arm, reminding her that it was just important that they see Sam at all.

He was awake when they finally got into room 008, and laid on the bed staring up at the ceiling. He looked surprised as all hell when they came in, all wide eyes and crunched brows.

Sam looked like shit.

"She almost raised hell to get us back here," Val nodded at Elena, who was already unpacking the homemade sandwiches she brought for him.

"All for this?" he asked in amusement. Elena handed him a card made out of pink construction paper that had animal stickers and purple hearts drawn all over it. He took it with a shaking hand, and he ducked his head after Val could see his eyes start to get a bit misty. Over his shoulder, she could read the childish scrawl: Uncle Sammy. Come home soon. Love, Annie.

"You didn't have to come, Lena," Sam said, once he got himself mostly under control. Elena opened one of the plastic baggies and handed him a sandwich.

"Shut up," she said.

"Mmm. Spicy." Sam glared as he looked just beyond her to the figment commentating from his little corner of the room. Shut. Up, he thought fiercely.

Elena grabbed his chin and brought his attention back to her. "Hey."

Lucifer chuckled. "She's cute."

Despite the peanut gallery, Sam finally felt like he could relax with her there. At least, just a little. He watched her sad eyes dim as she looked at him fully for the first time. She turned his face to the left, then the right.

He knew he was a rough sight, but he still hated that look in her eyes anyway. He closed his when she held his face in her hands, gentle and almost motherly. But Elena Hayes was the closest thing to a sister that he'd ever had.

Her thumbs soothed the frown lines between his brows, and he heard her sigh. When he next opened his eyes, there were tears in hers.

"Just hold on a little longer, okay?" she said. Sam let out a shaky breath. He hadn't slept in days. Weeks. Who really knew anyway.

"I'm tired."

"Keep fighting, Sam. Because your brother's out there fighting tooth and nail for you."

She hugged him close then, tight as she could, and he appreciated that she didn't treat him like some frail thing whose bones were going to snap like twigs. It was familiar, and he was grateful for it. He almost didn't have the strength to hug her back though.

"It's going to be okay," she said thickly. "We're getting you help, so you can rest."

Dean drove down the interstate at nearly ninety miles an hour. Every now and then he had to glance over at the "faith healer" in the passenger seat calling himself Emmanuel. Except for the fuzzy sweater, he looked everything like the angel who turned on Dean and accidentally released ancient evil dicks out of Purgatory—once upon a time.

"So Daphne," Dean said, referring to the woman that a demon was holding hostage to get to this Castiel-look-alike for none other than the King of Hell. Dean shook his head. Crowley, that dickbag.

He would've taken the guy and made a new project out of him (which would've probably included varying forms of fucked up torture, at the very least), and Sam and Dean wouldn't have known a thing about it. Not that it wouldn't 'a served him right.

"Is that, uh...your wife?" Dean asked, after catching Emmanuel's attention.

"She found me and cared for me," he nodded. Dean frowned.

"Meaning?"

"Oh, it's a...strange story," Emmanuel said with a small quirk of his lips. "You may not like it."

Dean shot him a glance. "Believe me, I will."

Emmanuel hesitated, but eventually he nodded. "A few months ago, she was hiking by the river and I wandered into her path, drenched and confused...and unclothed. I had no memory. She said, God wanted her to find me."

Dean let himself take that in, all the while forcing down the remnants of anger and the cold irony at the mention of "God" being any part of this little story. As long as he was on board to help Sam, he would have to stow everything else until his brother's head got fixed.

Then again, it was Cas's fault it was busted in the first place.

"So who named you Emmanuel?" Dean asked. Though he could guess, with the images of Daphne's crucifixes on the walls of her house popping up in his head.

"A website called 'Bouncy Baby Names,'" Emmanuel smiled slightly. Dean barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

"Well, it's working for you," he said instead. "Must be weird not knowing who you are."

"It's my life, and it's a good life," Emmanuel nodded. Dean couldn't help another snide glance.

"Yeah, well, what if you were some kinda, I don't know...bad guy?" he hedged. Emmanuel frowned, looking a bit troubled by the thought.

"Oh I...I don't feel like a bad person," he said. But his blue eyes held onto that question long enough that Dean felt a little satisfaction.

In order to let Sam rest for a while, Val and Elena went upstairs to the hospital food court and bought some subs. After the long drive and hours without eating, Val tore into her turkey sandwich. Elena only picked at her salt-and-vinegar chips after a few bites.

"Not hungry?" Val asked, nodding at the other woman's nearly full plate. "Must really be the apocalypse then."

Elena sighed. "I can't. My stomach's rolling just looking at it."

Val just looked at her for a moment. She realized then just how much disturbing shit Elena had seen, not only by having been a hunter for all these years, but also by being so integrated with the Winchesters and Bobby Singer. Now that Val knew the truth, she hardly wanted to leave her apartment (or even let her little brother go to soccer practice). But to actively seek it out? It was amazing they were all still alive, that they were even sane.

...Or, well, Sam made a lot more sense now.

"You're really not scared of someone who sees Lucifer?" She whispered, but Elena still eyed their surroundings before she answered, her lips pursed.

"I've dealt with his hallucinations before," she muttered.

"What?" Val's voice rose, and Elena shushed her.

"Look, I've only been afraid of that man once in my life, and I got over it." She shook her head stubbornly. "I know Sam. He just needs some help."

"And that's another thing," Val retorted. "Where the hell is Dean? What kind of cure is he expecting to find out there for someone in here?"

Dean kicked the greasy-looking man into the glass door of the refrigerator behind him, then followed up by slamming the demon-killing knife into his gut. The demon's eyes flashed out in sparks, but Dean was already moving on to the next aisle, where two more were coming at him.

The ensuing scuffle had Dean on the floor with the knife thrown away from him. But before he could prepare himself to block some more inevitable hits to the face, the demon standing over him screamed with pain and flickered out as the knife was shoved into his spinal cord, while the second demon was already smoking out of the possessed body it was inhabiting.

"Emmanuel, you son of a bitch," Dean snapped. "I told you to wait in the car!"

The dead body fell to the ground, revealing a familiar brunette and her smirking face.

"Emmanuel? Yeah, not so much."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Meg."

"Dean, Dean, Dean," the demon tsked. "You got some splainin' to do."

"Right," he scoffed, and quickly got back onto his feet.

She followed him out of the convenience store after he closed it up and motioned for Emmanuel to stay in the car. Meg crossed her arms and explained—with her usual delightful sass—how she'd been trailing the not-so-dead Castiel, as well as trying to steer clear of Crowley.

"Rumors of this wandering healer are strictly low-level," she said. "But the body count's getting high enough to change that. Folks start poking around, they sniff angel dust."

"Yeah, and they start falling over themselves tryin' to tell Crowley," Dean made the next logical step.

Meg nodded and rose a brow. "Now picture Crowley with his hands on harmless little amnesia-Cas."

Dean had, and he'd already decided it wasn't going to happen if he could prevent it. As angry as he still was...

"Don't get me wrong," Meg said, "I'm gonna burn that smarmy dick. My time's coming. But right about now, my army-of-one situation's not cutting it. It's cold out here, there's a price on my ass, and I need friends."

"Yeah, I get that. But I ain't it," Dean shook his head. No way he was giving back up to this black-eyed-bitch.

"That's where you're wrong, Dean," she smirked. "'Cause I'm here to help you, and that makes us friends."

Dean resisted for a few more verbal volleys back and forth, but like it or not though, he could use some backup if he was going to be jumped by demons every fifty miles. He agreed to let her tag along until they reached Sam, but that was the only truce he was about to make.

He got his knife back from Meg, and she hopped in the backseat while Emmanuel stared back with wide eyes, likely startled by seeing the demon's true face.

"It's okay, we come in different flavors," she teased him. He sent a questioning look to Dean, who sighed as he got in the driver's seat.

"She's, uh, a friend," he said.

"Meg," she introduced herself with an easy smile. "Just here for moral support. I mean, after all, we go way back."

At Dean's warning look, she clarified, "Dean and me. Just met you, of course. But I think we're gonna be friends too."

"All right, let's go." Dean revved the engine and pulled out of the gas station and back onto the road.

A couple more awkward-filled hours of driving and they made it back over the state line of South Dakota. Dean parked outside the hospital and got out of the car, but it didn't take long for him to notice the odd number of people standing outside the emergency entrance, just waiting.

"Oh, gracious," Emmanuel whispered next to him, making something solid drop into Dean's stomach.

"Damn it," Meg hissed. "Demons."

"All of them?" Dean asked. Worry gripped him as he slid his phone out of his pocket and found his girlfriend's number.

"No grass growing under your feet," Meg snarked.

"How many of those knives do you have?" Emmanuel asked.

"Just the one," Dean said as the line kept ringing. Come on, woman. Pick up already.

Emmanuel looked between him and Meg. "Well, then forgive me, but what do we do?"

"Yeah, Dean," Meg drawled. "Got any other ideas on how we could blast through that?"

Dean glared at her in warning, but he held up a finger when the line on his cell finally stopped ringing.

"Hey," Elena answered.

"Please tell me you're home already," he said.

"No, we're still at the hospital. Why? What's happening?"

"Got a horde of Crowley's groupies outside the hospital."

"What? Why?"

Dean sighed and moved away from Emmanuel. Meg followed suit after he motioned her over. "Long story short, I found Cas. Except he doesn't remember who he is."

"I'm guessing the demons don't know that," Elena said. "Or they do, and that's all the better to catch him."

"Exactly, so watch your back. There could be a few already inside," he said. "You're with Sammy now, right?"

Elena hesitated. "No, but we're going back to his room now. Val, come on."

"Jesus," Dean pinched his nose. He felt a headache coming on. "Okay. Lena, we're gettin' in somehow, all right?"

"Be careful, Dean," she told him, and he could hear her worry just as much as her warmth. It still made him smile, even though he was just as worried for her and Sam.

"Yeah, you too." He hung up, and Emmanuel was close behind him, getting the side-eye from Meg.

"I gather we know each other," he frowned.

Meg grinned. "Just a dollop."

Dean really didn't want to do this, didn't want to tell him the truth and potentially set him off the deep end, but they needed angel power and they needed it. Now.

"Where the hell is he?" Elena demanded. "If he's not in his goddamn room, where the hell did you take him?"

Dr. Kadinsky hastily checked the sheets on his clipboard. "He was signed out for treatment. This is my signature, but I didn't sign this."

"What kind of morons do you have working here?" Val asked. She could tell Elena was about to have a coronary if competent answers weren't doled out soon.

"What kind of treatment?" Elena exclaimed.

"Just for some physical therapy that helps alleviate psychosomatic symptoms Sam was having. He should be just fine, Mrs. Whitman." Kadinsky rose a placating hand. Too bad it didn't put either woman at ease. "Just follow me, we'll go see him together."

He led them down the corridor and down a flight of stairs, which Val thought was a little weird. Why would a physical therapy room be in the basement, even below the psych ward? There was a big gray door all the way at the end of the hall, and the closer they got to it, the more uneasy she felt.

The doctor by all means seemed normal, his brows supposedly furrowed by worry for his patient.

But Val glanced over at Elena, who had a hand in her purse like she was looking for something. Her eyes were focused and she looked…not just tense. It was a look like Val had never seen on her.

"Doctor?" Elena asked. She put a hand on the man's arm to bring them all to a stop towards the end of the hall.

Just as quickly with her other hand, she pulled a canister of salt from her purse and dumped it in a line across the floor, separating them all from the door.

Dr. Kadinsky's hand shot out to pull Elena close, before he shoved her hard against the wall.

Val screamed involuntarily as Kadinsky smirked over at her, flashing his coal black eyes.

It gave Elena the opening she needed to knee the demon hard in the side, just underneath the ribs, and immediately start stuffing his mouth full of some good old-fashioned sea salt.

"Eat it, you bastard!" she ground out, and started rattling off words in a language Val only vaguely recognized as Latin. She watched, wide-eyed and afraid, as the demon choked on the salt and fiercely shut his eyes, like the words were causing him pain to hear.

Elena didn't stop whatever mantra she was spewing, not until agonized male screams could be heard from down the hall, past that gray door.

"Sam—" Elena was cut off by the demon attempting to cut off her windpipe, the doctor's hand closed around her neck like a vice. He smirked as his grip once again forced her against the wall and off her feet. She clawed at his hand as she struggled for air.

"Val!" she managed to gasp.

Val, finally snapping out of her frozen state of shock, looked down at the forgotten canister of salt.

She scrambled for it, got it in her shaking hands, and she pelted the demon with the fine grains, right in the eyes.

"Goddamn it," he screamed, and elbowed her in the face for her trouble.

Val fell back, tripping and ending up on her ass. But it was enough of a distraction that Elena could send a sharp kick between the demon's legs. It hissed in pain.

"Oh, you bitch—"

Elena didn't wait for him to finish that lovely sentiment. Instead she brought his face cracking onto her raised knee.

With a grunt of pain, Kadinsky fell back against the wall, where an angel's hand covered the demon's face and obliterated the dark presence from the body. The familiar dark-haired figure stood in front of Val, obscuring her vision of the doctor until his body landed in a lifeless, eyeless heap on the floor.

"Sam's back there, go!" she heard Elena shout, heard the heavy footfalls of Dean and others charge past. But all she could see was the good doctor and his empty eye sockets.

Then Elena's face blocked that delightful view, her worried gray eyes staring into hers.

"Val." She felt the other woman's hands on her cheeks, pulling stray auburn hair away from her bruised face. "Valerie May!"

"What?" Val finally snapped, but she knew she wasn't fooling anyone. She was a shaking, crying, pitiful mess, and she went willingly into the warm embrace that felt too much like a sister.

They found Sam in a large room in the hospital's basement used mostly for storage. He was strapped to a table, connected to an outdated machine used for electroshock therapy. By the time they reached him, the faith healer Emmanuel's memory had already been restored to Castiel, angel of the Lord, who could hardly stomach to continue living with the weight of his guilt.

But he stowed it until they could bring Sam back to room 008. Sam himself was unresponsive, staring at nothing while the devil's torment continued inside his mind. Castiel saw all that Sam was seeing, and he tried to evaluate the state of his soul, to see if the walls could be replaced.

It wasn't good.

"What do you mean, you can't?" Dean asked. He stood near his brother's bed with Elena, and the woman named Valerie. The demon Meg was waiting outside, covering for them should anyone try to disturb them.

"I mean, there's nothing left to rebuild."

"Why not?"

"Because it crumbled," Castiel said, trying to convey all the remorse he felt. "The pieces got crushed to dust by whatever's happening inside his head right now."

"So you're saying there's nothing?" Dean asked. "That he's gonna be like this until his candle blows out?"

Elena tried in vain to wipe her tears as she stared up at him, pleading with him silently to do something. Her thoughts were so loud in her head, Castiel couldn't help but overhear.

She didn't want Dean to lose his brother, he discerned. But even more, she didn't want to lose her family. Not any more than she'd already lost.

And Dean.

Well, it was even more obvious what the man was thinking.

"I'm sorry. This isn't a problem I can make disappear, and you know that." Castiel thought desperately though, searching for anything at all he could do. If he could just…

Wait. A thought occurred to him, formed slowly in his mind until he was sure of it.

"But," he trailed. It'll work. "I may be able to shift it."

"Shift?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, it would get Sam back on his feet." Castiel nodded to himself. It has to be done.

"It's better this way," he continued, and sat down on the edge of Sam's bed beside the man. "I'll be fine."

Sam flinched when Castiel reached out to him. Dean quickly came up then on the other side of the bed.

"Wait, Cas. What're you doing?"

"Now, Sam, this may hurt," Castiel was gentle, but persistent as he laid a hand on Sam's head. "And if I can't tell you again…I'm sorry I ever did this to you."

Sam froze at the touch, until a white-hot pain seared up the back of his neck. His whole body felt hot, and the black current of pain traveled from his head, back down his neck, to Castiel's hand and up the angel's arm and neck.

Sam had to gasp for breath as whatever that current was that had been pressing down so hard on him finally let him breathe. Lucifer was nowhere in sight.

"Sam?" Dean was suddenly there with a hand heavy on his shoulder that filled Sam with relief.

"Dean!" Then he realized Castiel was there too, wide-eyed and staring right through him.

"Cas? Cas, is that you?" Sam asked. The angel gasped and stood from the bed. He nearly tripped on his feet trying to back away and ended up bracing his back against the wall.

Elena came up on Sam's left side, where the angel had been. She shared a short but meaningful look with Sam and Dean before turning back to Castiel.

"Cas, are you all right?" she asked softly.

The angel sunk to the ground and held his hands to his ears, bowing his head against whatever he was hearing.

Sam glanced over and finally noticed Val, who stared at the broken angel with what was probably both fear and pity. She looked up at the brothers with that same conflict in her eyes.

"What now?"