"Demons?" Dean whispered, leaning closer. He noticed that the boy's face was pale and his eyes were glossy.

"What's your name?" he asked.

The boy blinked a little before shaking his head, his fists tightening again.

"It's ok," Dean said, "you don't have to tell me. But buddy, I need to ask you a really important question, alright?"

Dean waited, and for a moment the boy didn't respond.Dean nodded, continuing anyway, talking slowly: "You think you saw Demons?" Dean asked him.

At this, the boy's gaze dropped again to the floor again, his mouth closing into a tight line. Shit, Dean thought. Maybe I should've sent Sam in here, he'd probably be better at this.

But when the boy didn't answer, Dean viewed him more closely. He scrutinized the child's forehead, noting a thin sheen of sweat forming. The boy's face was ashen, his lips slightly blue-ish. And, Dean realized that on closer look, the boy was shaking.

"Shit!" he said, jumping up from where he sat, barely musing on the fact that he'd just sworn in front of a kid. "We need a doctor in here," he yelled out the door while putting his hands on the child's arms, rubbing them, noticing just how cold he felt.

In a moment, Sam, Trent and Cas were in the room.

"What's wrong with him?" Sam said, walking closer. The boy looked to the wall and to the floor, quickly, appearing disoriented.

Suddenly, a woman's voice came from the hallway. "What did you do to him?" she accused, kneeling and knocking Dean's hand away. She had a social services badge clipped to her blazer.

"Nothing," Dean snapped, "He's in shock. He needs medical care."

Quickly, Trent nodded leaving, and the woman from social services led the boy to the ground, laying him down with a jacket under his head.

Cas looked knowingly at Dean.

"Could you help him?" Dean asked, his voice urgent.

Cas squinted his eyebrows, surveying the child.

"I can try. Shock is tricky as it is an emotional, mental and physical malady." he said, tilting his head walking closer to the boy. "But I might be able to ease the physical symptoms."

Dean gestured quickly toward the boy, emphasizing his speech with his hands. "What the hell are you waiting for?"

The angel nodded and quickly strode forward to get to the child, but the woman stood up, putting a hand on his chest.

"I don't know who the three of you are, but we need to give him some space right now until the ambulance comes," she said, looking from one towering figure to the next, the room seeming quite small with all of them in it. Sam scooted back, but Cas blinked straight faced.

"We are with the F.B.I.," Cas said calmly, "and I can help." The woman gave him a curious look, but before she could stop him, Cas had pushed his way passed her and was placing his fingers on the boy's forehead.

"There," he said, standing, his expression a bit inappropriately smug. Dean glanced down at the boy, who was blinking quickly, the color returning to his face, his gaze finally steady. They helped him to his feet, and he stood easily.

But though his health appeared to have improved, his face still looked upset when he turned to Dean. He stared at him uncomfortably for a moment, and the expression was haunting.

"James," she said to the boy, "are you alright?"

"Yes," said James, eyeing Cas, and he wasn't the only one. As soon as she had determined that James was alright, she looked at Cas cautiously.

"What did you do to him?" she asked.

"I helped," the angel replied in a matter of fact tone.

One of her arms was around the boy, and she held it there protectively.

"Right," she said, her voice unsure. "Who did you say you were agai—"

Suddenly EMTs rushed through the door, beginning to examine the boy, asking questions to the social worker, then turning their attention to the hunters. Dean answered the questions hastily, saying they must have been mistaken about the boy's health because he appeared fine now. Then, they quickly left, ignoring suspicious glances from the only two other people who had seen how sick James had actually been.

"We need to talk to that kid again," Dean said once they were in the car. He looked at the precinct, feeling a sense of empathy for the boy. After all, Dean had been about that age when monsters had started becoming real for him, too.

Sam sighed, "I agree," he said, "but it's going to be a bit hard to do now that social services has stepped in. And even more difficult after today's episode. I imagine it's going to take a lot of paperwork to even get within a hundred feet of him at this point. The investigation could be seen as a trigger to his psychological stress."

Dean nodded, agreeing that the argument could have some merit. But they needed information. Then a thought came to him. "It's been days," he said, "why was his shock manifesting now?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders in response, and Dean furrowed his brows.

Then, suddenly, from the back seat, Cas's voice chimed in. "I'll do it," he said, leaning forward.

Dean craned around to look at him. "Do what?"

"I can get to him, and it'll be easier than trying to fly multiple people past security," he said, his voice confident, reminding Dean slightly of the time Cas had first declared himself a hunter.

"Cas," Dean said, "I'm not even sure you'd know how to talk to a kid, let alone interrogate one."

And in response Cas gave him a withering stare. He leaned in closer to Dean, his voice deep. "At least when I talk to children, I don't send them to the hospital, Dean," he retored.

And despite himself, Dean smiled. Sam did too. Dean held up his hands in hands in defeat, "Alright," he said, "you can have babysitting duty."

Cas nodded, looking satisfied, and Dean put the keys in the ignition. But suddenly, he froze. "There's something else," he said, hesitating, staring at the steering wheel. Sam and Cas didn't speak, but when Dean finally looked at them, their faces were inquisitive.

Dean blinked, breathing deep before speaking. "The boy knew my name," he said. "And he heard it from the Demons."