Title: Under the Influence of Djinn
Chapter: Six
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

Jo returned to the room with several large bags. She'd bought a few clothes, toiletries, food, first aid supplies, and several papers.

First things first. She cleaned and dressed Castiel's wounds while he slept, wondering if there were more marks on his back. He was a dead weight, too heavy for her to move. Whoever had whipped him had been vicious and it wasn't a new thing either. She found thin scars beneath the fresh marks, meaning that whatever angelic healing ability he'd had had failed him.

Did that mean he was human? Odd. How on earth had they ended up together in a motel room?

She went to take a shower, taking her time and lingering. It was good to finally feel clean and to put on fresh clothes. That act somehow made her feel like she maybe did belong back in the land of the living.

Time passed.

He remained sprawled on his back, one hand dangling off the edge of the bed. Jo found herself studying that hand from her place in the chair. Long, lean fingers with well-groomed nails. It didn't look like the hand of the soldier she knew he was. It looked like a pianist's hand. She had to remind herself that the hand belonged to his vessel and not to him. Had his vessel played piano? Or any other instrument? Not that it mattered. Idle speculation.

Jo watched tv, played solitaire, and read the papers, spending the time catching up. She passed the hours like she always did on her own, including a nap when she got sleepy and a quick trip to the fast food place across the street for dinner.

Castiel slept through it all. He was still sleeping when Jo went to bed at midnight, not waking when she pushed, shoved, and kicked him to one single side of the bed instead of the center where he'd somehow shifted to during the afternoon. Funny how he'd managed to move over without her actually seeing it happen. Jo curled up under the covers, waking back up at seven. She had to kick, push, and shove Castiel back on one side of the bed again. Sometime during the night, he'd rolled over and flung an arm and leg across her, his mouth at her ear. He hadn't snored that time.

On his back once more, he was again a dead weight and she checked his wounds before going about getting dressed. A couple of them were gone, vanished completely and the rest didn't look as raw as they had. He was healing, but not like he should. It wasn't nearly fast enough for angelic healing, yet too fast for human healing.

One, two, three, four days went by in the same manner.

Castiel slept on.

How long could one angel sleep? Waking him wasn't an option because she'd tried. He was oblivious.

Was he going to wake up? Or was she stuck here with an angel that really was comatose? She couldn't just leave him here alone. Her conscience wouldn't allow that. Besides, she wanted to know why she'd been brought back from the dead and hoped he had that answer.

And also, there was the question of where to go. She couldn't remember any phone numbers or addresses for people she'd known, so contacting fellow hunters for information or shelter was out of the question. There were holes in her knowledge, very specific holes that pertained to hunting, all the phone numbers and addresses. Someone had carefully removed those. She had to half laugh that she, Jo Harvelle, might be considered dangerous in some way to the person or thing who'd scrubbed her mind. Or rather, who she knew might be dangerous. Why bother raising her at all if her memory had to be 'sanitized'?

But then she remembered that Dean and Sam Winchester were considered dangerous, much more so than anyone else she'd known. They'd battled Lucifer himself, and gauging the look of the world, had won that fight. She knew them and any of those other hunters she'd known might know where they were. Playing hopscotch among hunters to find one with information on them really wasn't that difficult. She'd seen her mother do it often enough just to check on them and others.

She'd been cut off from all hunters though. She and Castiel had been cut off. So far, anyway.

She squinted at his prone form. Unless he'd rescued her somehow from something? Maybe he'd wake up and have the contacts she couldn't pull from memory anymore? Maybe it was simply a matter of waiting for him to wake up and everything would be righted. He'd get up, fix her memory holes, and they'd go straight to Dean and Sam.

Not likely given past experiences, but hey, a girl could dream.

Jo frowned and reached for his coat. Maybe he still had that cell phone. He'd had one when she'd first met him. He hadn't known how to use it properly, but he had had one. She hadn't bothered to look through his pockets when she'd put the coat on the first day. She'd been more concerned with keeping her bloodstained clothes hidden from view while she shopped.

Searching Castiel's coat only produced a well-worn, rubber-banded copy of a 'Supernatural' book, a broken cell phone, a pocket full of change neatly contained in a plastic zip baggie (mostly nickels and pennies), a knife she thought was an angel blade, and a wallet with only a fake FBI badge, a driver's license for Jimmy Novak, and nothing else in it. She read the book while waiting for him to wake up, a little surprised to find that Dean and Sam were the stars.

On the fifth day, Castiel finally woke up.

Somehow, Dean wasn't surprised when Bobby's response was exactly what he and Sam were expecting.

Disappointment reflected in Bobby's eyes as he took in the group outside his front door and he shook his head sadly. "Son of a bitch, Dean. What the hell did you do this time to break him out? I gotta help you try and break a deal with that bastard Crowley or something? You two have got stupid dripping out your ears. I ought to rename you dumb and dumber." Turning, he moved back into the house.

Dean heard a feminine snicker from behind him. Gwen would find that amusing.

"I can explain," he insisted, then held up a hand at the group of four behind him, "Wait here," and followed Bobby into the house. Sam had agreed before they'd gotten there to let Dean do the talking and wait for the usual tests before going in the house. "I didn't do anything, Bobby. Swear to God."

"Damn it, Dean. You were going to leave it alone."

"I did!" At Bobby's chiding glance, he raised his chin a fraction and amended, "Sort of."

He crossed his arms. "Sort of?"

"I looked through every book I could get my hands on, but what I'm trying to get to, is it wasn't anything I did. Him being here? Not on me. He woke up pulled free in a field not long after he and Lucifer took a nosedive. He's had amnesia the better part of a year, it all came back pretty recent."

"How recent?"

"A couple weeks, three I guess by now. The cousins have been -"

"You've got cousins? Which side?"

"Mom's."

"Really. I thought that demon Meg killed them all."

"So did we. The connections are back enough they probably weren't in mom's address book and it's not like Meg would have done the genealogy just to find relatives of ours to kill."

"You think. Don't underestimate a determined demon," he said with a dark frown.

"Determined demon? What's that supposed to mean? You having a problem with Crowley? He didn't keep your contract did he? A loophole of some kind allowing him to?"

"No, I'm a free soul. He kept his promise - surprisingly. I thought I'd have to battle him to get it back. There're…other things going on. Let me get this straight. You lost Sam to the pit and he came back with three cousins?"

"Yes."

"Huh." He studied Dean a long moment. "I don't see your lady friend and her kid out there."

Dean looked down at the floor and back up. "Didn't work out."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Happens."

"So you got Sam back and a bonus family with him." Bobby sighed. "Right. Well, let's get them all tested and get them in here for introductions."

Everyone appeared to be on their best behavior, which surprised Dean. He'd just assumed Gwen would act up in some way since he'd come to realize she was the one to watch out for, but no, she was polite and even asked before sitting on the couch. Her small angelic smile didn't fool him. As soon as she deemed it safe to be herself, she'd cut loose. Kind of reminded him of him sometimes. Was that proof of kin or what?

"You some sort of researcher, Mr. Singer," Christian asked, running a finger along the cover of one book that he'd picked up. A glance at the title revealed it looked to be in Latin.

"I do a little here and there," was the terse answer. "Let's be getting back to the whole you three finding Sam part of this story. You just stumbled on him? Out of all the hunters in the country you three Campbells could find, you happened to come across your long lost cousin out of the blue? Oh, no, that's not sketchy."

Sam sighed. "Dean already pointed out it was probably engineered by an angel or something."

"Them being involved is never good. Didn't it occur to any of you how strange that was?"

Christian flipped open the book and ignored the question.

Mark's shoulders hunched and he slid down a little on the couch cushion. He stared at the toes of his boots.

Gwen, on the other hand, nodded. "Of course it did. It was only about three weeks ago now that Sam got his memory back and we spent most of that traveling. First, to get to Dean, then get him up and moving, and finally to get here. We haven't had much time to really look at it and figure out the why. Dean and I did briefly discuss it and didn't come to any kind of conclusion."

"What's your plan for figuring it out? Assuming you got one."

She cleared her throat. "I was under the impression we came here so that you could help us formulate some kind of plan."

Bobby turned his attention to Dean. "That true?"

Dean held up his hands. "We came to let you know Sam was alive and it wasn't my fault this time. Getting help in figuring things out is extra."

"Why don't you call Castiel down? I'm sure he can clear things up for you."

From the table came Christian's voice. "They would if they could. Apparently their angel friend is declining to answer any summons they make." He flipped a page. "Mind if I read this?"

"Since you asked so nicely, go ahead." Bobby's annoyance was wrapped about the words.

Christian didn't seem to notice. "Thanks." He lifted the book and carried it to Bobby's favorite chair, where he sat and began to read.

Bobby's frown deepened. "Make yourself at home."

"Uh-huh." Christian nodded and, from experience, it was clear to Dean that he'd checked out and wasn't paying attention to anything but the book. They could set off a bomb and he might glance up if it was loud enough.

"We can't call Castiel." Sam leaned against the table. "He appears to be missing. You didn't hear from him at all?"

"The first month or so, he came around a couple times. Had me put up a few sigils to lock him in a room for a few hours and that was it. Didn't say anything really, only that Raphael wasn't willing to play nice."

"Raphael the archangel?" Gwen stood and stepped over to stand beside Dean.

"That's the one."

She crossed her arms. "Castiel went back to heaven to sort things out, right? That's what Dean said. Maybe he and Raphael are fighting it out?"

A chill swept down Dean's spine. "Maybe." What would Castiel do to beat Raphael? "What's Crowley up to these days, Bobby?"

"Crowley? How do you go from Raphael to him?"

"Just answer me."

"How the hell should I know? He leaves me alone, I leave him alone. It's best that way."

"Come on. What's he up to?"

Bobby sighed. "What do you think? The usual. Duking it out with Meg and everyone else who threatens his status. Currently, it's her. They're battling over running hell. Meg changed her tune as soon as Lucifer was defeated and now she's challenging Crowley's power base with her latest batch of supporters, some of which are rumored to be angelic dropouts."

"Angelic dropouts?" Mark perked up from his place on the couch. "You mean fallen angels?"

"Maybe."

"Bobby?" Sam frowned. "Are you saying we've got a bunch of angels roaming around who aren't under heaven's control anymore?"

"Yes." He nodded. "At least they seem like angels. Got the powers. Got the attitude."

Got free will courtesy of Castiel showing them it was possible to do what they wanted and not merely what heaven wanted. Dean didn't say it out loud. "Why would they support a demon? They can see the abomination under the human host."

"If they're fallen, then why wouldn't they support one," Mark asked. "If they know they're not bound by heaven anymore and can choose what they want, doesn't that mean they might choose to sway events in hell? Maybe see if they can change things there? Stretch their wings sort of thing."

Dean looked down at the floor. "An angel dips his wings in hell, he becomes worse than a demon. Hell corrupts him until there's nothing left of the angel, an abomination more terrible than any ever on earth."

"Dean?"

He looked up. The question as to how Dean knew that was in Sam's eyes. Maybe it was time to disclose the entirety of the Djinn dream to him. "Just speculation. Hell corrupts. It's what it does. No way righteousness can stand up under a willful walking with demons."

He'd tell Sam everything later that day. It was time Sam knew.

The sensations Castiel felt upon waking were unfamiliar to him and he wondered why. He'd woken from a coma before, even woken from sleep. There should be no differences. This awakening was different, however.

Emotion was a rolling boil inside him and he felt every ache and pain in Jimmy's body. He felt strange, as if this really was his body. Even when he'd descended into humanity the last time he hadn't felt that. There had been a detachment between self and body. Not so now. This was the same sensation he had in his natural form.

Why was it different this time? Had Raphael really managed to make him human? Was this body now his natural form?

Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, moving carefully and staring at the wall in an attempt to get his bearings. He felt thirst and that gnawing sensation of hunger in his belly. There was even a little dizziness and he took shallow breaths until it eased.

Castiel recalled the zeal with which Raphael had whipped him and the beatings he'd suffered. Anger rose up at what he'd suffered and finding Jo instead of Ellen with him put him in a sour mood, his disappointment deep.

Was Raphael enjoying the show so far? Of course he'd engineered it so Ellen wouldn't be there. What other outcome had Castiel expected?

His irritability was difficult to keep in check and he was more surly with Jo than he'd intended, hardly like his usual self.