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Chapter Two

Dean took in the sight of the person who was definitely not the guy he had eaten dinner with. Well… next to. The change in expression was startling, but the change in voice, just from that one hesitant syllable, was shocking. The rough, scratchy quality had melted away from Jimmy Novak's boyish, nervous voice. This was more like how Dean had imagined he would sound upon first seeing him.

"Hey, hey, take it easy," he said. "Jimmy?"

Looking up at him apprehensively, the kid nodded, before bringing his eyes back down, averting them from Dean's face.

"Good to meet you, I'm Dean."

"Yeah. Dean. Castiel told me we're roommates." Jimmy looked over at the two duffel bags, milk crate of books, and sheet set tossed carelessly over his bed, and set to organizing them. Dean couldn't hep but notice that he was woefully right-handed, and he kept accidentally grabbing things with his injured hand. The injury must be pretty new, if he hadn't gotten used to going lefty for awhile.

"Hey, you want help with that?" offered Dean. "Your arm looks like it hurts."

"Oh, uh, I got it-"

"At least let me unzip the bags, dude, you can't even move your fingers."

Jimmy reluctantly stood back as Dean opened both bags for him and set the crate on the floor so Jimmy would not have to lift it. Jimmy himself started making his bed.

"So," said Dean, raising his eyebrows when five minutes of silence passed, "Cas told me he'd prefer you to explain your deal instead of him."

"I'd really rather not," murmured Jimmy.

"Ah, c'mon, dude, there's no shame here. We're in a freaking mental hospital. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

Jimmy still looked rather like a frightened rabbit, which told Dean he either suffered from severe anxiety or had a past (and possibly a present) filled with abuse. Or both. "I…"

"Okay, how about this. Promise to tell me before you're discharged and I'll tell you my story now. Like an advance payment. Deal?"

"I… all right, deal," agreed Jimmy. "What's your… diagnosis, I guess?"

"Paranoid schizophrenia with narcissistic personality disorder and religious psychosis," rattled off Dean. "I see demons and hellhounds like, everywhere I go." The way Jimmy flinched at the word "demons" did not escape Dean's notice, but he pretended it had. "Then about a year ago, my kid brother almost died in a fire and I guess we both lost it. He's stuck in pediatrics, actually. And I mean, I practically raised the kid – Dad's basically a con artist and he was always either off performing phony exorcisms or doing some time. Lookin' after Sammy is what I do. When he was in the ICU, the demons and hellhounds got so bad my uncle Bobby convinced me to check myself in here."

"Wow," said Jimmy, sounding not sarcastic, but almost appreciative of Dean's plight. "I'm glad your little brother's okay."

"Yeah, me too," replied Dean, with a grin of thanks. "So, throw me a bone at least, huh? Cas said your arm's not fucked up because of a suicide attempt, can you at least tell me how that happened?"

Jimmy glanced down at his bandaged arm and hand. "Um… okay, this is gonna sound crazy-"

"What, here? Get real."

That drew out a reluctant smile. "Castiel… Cas has apparently been around for awhile. I mean, I kinda knew something was weird – I'd find myself somewhere and have no idea how I got there, or I'd have plans with my friends and then the next day, they'd be mad at me for blowing them off even though I couldn't even remember the last night. But I didn't know… I mean, he talked to me sometimes, but I didn't think he… um, Castiel is my… guardian angel."

Which explained his reaction when Dean mentioned demons. He shook his head. Of course he of all people would have half an angel for a roommate. "So you don't believe it's a split personality?"

"No, I… I guess it… maybe?" Jimmy shrugged, opening the small closet on his side of the room and stacking his clothes in it. "I don't know, to be honest. All I know is that I didn't realize Cas was… another me. I thought he was just a voice in my head. Which I knew was crazy, too, but even so, I sort of took it on his word that he was my guardian angel, so…" Jimmy laughed humorlessly. "I got home late last night from church, it was like ten o'clock, and I was starving, y'know? So I was making spaghetti and meatballs, and when the water started boiling, he told me to put my arm in the pot – to… to prove my faith."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "What a dick."

"I dunno, he seemed… really surprised that I got hurt. And besides, if… if it weren't for him, I – I don't know."

"You don't know where you'd be, is that what you were about to say? Some pretty bad shit happened to you and having Cas around lets you deal with it better."

Jimmy looked at him. "How do you know that?"

"I told Cas, I'm a people person. He's around to protect you. I dunno what you need protecting from, but I'm gonna guess it's an abuser, right?"

Jimmy's blue eyes – they were softer and less piercing than Castiel's, but no less pretty for it – fell to the floor and stayed there.

"I am right, aren't I?"

"Two," murmured Jimmy. "One for my whole life and one… within the past few years."

"Is it your mom and your dad?"

Jimmy clenched his fists, forgetting his burned hand, and whimpered in pain, cradling the bandaged fingers in the unhurt ones. "Ow… it… my dad and my priest, okay?"

"Wow," sympathized Dean. "You poor guy. You wanna spill the whole story, now that the cat's outta the bag?" He looked at Jimmy, who had gone very still. "Jimmy?"

The reply did not come from Jimmy. "He trusts you. Or at least, he sees no reason to actively distrust you. I'm glad we agree on that. I believe I trust you as well."

"Dammit, Cas, you guys are like a freakin' tag team."

Ignoring this, Castiel continued, "He does not mind you knowing, but he prefers not to talk about it."

"So I get to hear it from you instead, angel cakes?"

Castiel glared. "Not if you are going to be derisive towards him."

"Relax, I'm not a dick. Not really. So I'm all ears, Cas, seriously." Dean sat cross-legged on his bed, Castiel following suit – though he kept his own legs stiffly together, feet on the floor.

"Jimmy's father has beaten him his entire life, ever since the death of his mother," explained Castiel. Dean nodded; he could relate… sort of. John had never been outright abusive, but Dean could expect a smack every now and then, and from what Bobby said, the whole "life of crime" thing had only started after their mother left. "When his father was transferred for work three years ago, Jimmy confessed the abuse to his new priest, who saw an opportunity in him rather than a boy who needs to be removed from his father's care."

"And you showed up because Jimmy couldn't keep it together with another dude beating the hell out of him, on top of his dad," said Dean.

"Father Raphael did not beat Jimmy," Castiel said in a respectfully lowered voice – though the respect was clearly intended for Jimmy's benefit. Dean immediately understood why Cas had taken such offense at being called angel cakes, and why the mention of Alistair and his creepy, almost leering glances had shocked Jimmy back to the surface.

"The poor guy," Dean said softly – with a touch of disappointment. If Jimmy had been sexually abused for the past three years, it was going to be pretty damn hard to get him or his guardian angel into bed. "So you've been around since that started."

"More or less. Jimmy has always… compartmentalized his emotions, but he was beginning to unravel. He would have if I had not come." Castiel looked at his bandaged hand. "I… knew that Jimmy needed to get away. I had him put his hand in the boiling water so he would be hospitalized."

"Wait, you knew he'd get burned?"

"Yes, of course," said Castiel, frowning. "The water was boiling."

"Why act now, though? All of the sudden, you realized, 'hey, wow, rape sucks, I better get the guy away'?"

Castiel sighed. The sound was ancient. "Usually, it is Jimmy who takes the abuse and I shield him from the memories and… 'take the wheel,' as you say, when he needs to heal. But one night when we were with Father Raphael… Jimmy is an altar boy, you see, and a member of the choir, and a volunteer Sunday school teacher – he's very involved in the church, so he's there all the time. But last night, Jimmy was weak. He needed to be removed from the situation, so I took over. And fought back."

"Damn," Dean whistled. "What'd you do to him?"

By now, Castiel wore a small smile. "I set his vestment on fire with an altar candle and called him my little bitch."

Dean couldn't help it; he laughed, but it was an admiring laugh. He shook Castiel's shoulder. "Kid, you're awesome, for a little nerdy dude with wings. So what happened next?"

"I ran for the bus and cloaked Jimmy's memories of the night. As far as he knows, nothing out of the ordinary happened."

"So he has no idea he set a priest on fire?"

Castiel fixed him with a blue-eyed stare. "No. And please do not tell him."

Dean breathed in through his teeth. "How's that gonna work when the guy presses charges?"

"He will not. It was self-defense and if he tries, I will push Jimmy aside if I must and see to it that he is put in jail."

Castiel's resolve was so firm that Dean couldn't bring himself to burst his bubble. The truth was, if Cas-and-Jimmy were lucky, this Father Raphael would be moved to a different parish, and that was it. And even so, Jimmy would still be damaged, and Dean had seen enough victim-type personalities to know that if Jimmy ever met another sadistic, abusive bastard in a position to hurt him, it was a done deal. The refusal to make eye contact, the way he hunched as if expecting to be hit at any moment, the apologetic tone of his voice, they all screamed "please feel free to take advantage of me, because I am far too broken to do anything about it." For Jimmy's sake, Dean hoped that Cas did stick around.

Jimmy did not reappear for the rest of the evening; not for the rest of phone hours, not during free time just before bed, where Dean again led him over to Chuck and Tessa and taught him to play poker just as he had taught each of them on their first nights here, and not when free time was over and it was quiet time before lights out. Dean really wasn't shocked; telling your fucked-up life story to some guy you had just met must be strange for other people, though he himself had no problem with it, and so he just went to sleep and allowed Jimmy-and-Cas their space. He hadn't had a roommate in months, since Andy the Druggie was declared sober and discharged, but he didn't sleep any differently when someone else shared the room. Before long, he was out like a light, but it seemed like only minutes later that someone was needling him awake.

"Dean, dammit, you sleep too much."

Dean shifted awake, running a hand over his eyes. "Sammy, what the hell," he mumbled. "It's-" a glance at the clock "-it's one in the morning, dude. You're the only person I know who can get away with sneaking out in the middle of the night – to a completely different wing, no less."

Sam grinned. "Learned all my stealth tricks from you, dumbass. You didn't tell me you were getting a roommate."

"I didn't know until you left."

"So, who is he?" Sam asked, sitting on the side of Dean's bed. Both brothers looked over to Cas-and-Jimmy. He was sleeping with his back turned to them, curled up almost in the fetal position, which made Dean think it had been Jimmy who had fallen asleep and Cas who had taken a backseat after lights-out.

"Uh, his names are Jimmy and Cas," said Dean. "Split personality."

"Huh." Sam looked from Jimmy-and-Cas, back to Dean. "Oh no, Dean, you can't be serious."

"What?" asked Dean defensively.

"You like him."

"Wanting to bang someone is not the same as liking them, Sammy."

"Okay – dude, first of all, there are parts of you I do not need to see or know about, okay? Ever. And second, you do like him, Dean, I can tell." Sam gave him the puppy dog face, which Dean cursed mentally; it didn't always work, but most of the time, it was foolproof. "And you shouldn't."

"Even if I did, what does it matter?" Dean asked, throwing an arm around Sam's shoulders. "You're always on about how I gotta stop 'being such a manwhore,' as you so kindly put it."

"This isn't what I meant," said Sam. "You know they're gonna try to kill Cas, right?"

Dean's stomach prickled. "The hell are you talking about?"

"You know. You know, Dean."

Dean was about to tell Sam to stop fucking around and just be straight with him, but a tiny whimper came from Jimmy's side of the room and Sam just gave his brother a meaningful look before scampering out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Dean winced at the noise, wondering how the hell he was going to make it all the way back to pediatrics after the noise, and then turned his attention to Jimmy, who had rolled over and was groaning now.

"No," he moaned. "Uhh-! Please, no, please, God, please-"

"Jimmy," said Dean, but it was clear he wouldn't wake up from Dean's voice alone. He stood up and crossed the room to Jimmy's bed, gently taking his shoulder and shaking. "Jimmy!"

Jimmy awoke, sitting bolt upright with a half-scream, but before Dean could so much as react, it was replaced with a look of grim calm. Dean rolled his eyes.

"You couldn't wake him up yourself?"

"When he is dreaming, I can do nothing," replied Castiel. "Thank you for waking him."

"Yeah, no problem." Dean went back to his bed and collapsed on it. They're going to kill Cas, Sam had said. Who? Not the demons, surely? The hellhounds? A rabid-sounding bark snarled out as if in response, and Dean jumped a mile off the bed, but judging by Castiel's questioning glance, the angel-or-other-facet-of-Jimmy's-personality (Dean honestly felt that it didn't matter which Castiel truly was) hadn't heard it. He let out a shaky breath.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine, Cas."

"Who were you talking to?"

Dean shook his head. "Sam. He likes to sneak out of pediatrics and bug me in the middle of the night. Just, uh… go back to sleep. If Jimmy has another nightmare, I'll wake you guys up again."

Castiel gave that unbearably cute head-tilt. "I don't sleep."

"You're kidding me."

"I am not… kidding you. I am incapable of falling asleep."

"You mean you're an insomniac, but Jimmy isn't?"

"No, Dean. I mean I am an angel, and angels do not need to sleep."

Dean nodded, not nearly awake enough to process this. "So the only way Jimmy's getting any sleep tonight is if you back off."

"I can't 'back off' if Jimmy needs to heal. It's no matter. He has nightmares almost every night, but they usually get far worse before they wake him up. Thank you again." Castiel remained sitting up in his bed, back straight as a post.

Dean himself, deciding not to argue, lay back down, hoping that Cas wasn't planning on just sitting there and staring at him all night. That was way creepy.