Castiel stalked towards House, who was sprawled on one of the doctor's lounge couches and had been glaring at the coffee pot for its crime of being empty. "Where is Jimmy?"

"I was going to take your beloved twin on a nice picnic, maybe a little trip to the zoo since he doesn't seem to get out much, but he spontaneously developed three bullet holes and a stab wound while I was watching him." House scowled and tapped Castiel's foot with his cane. "I initially dismissed his melodramatic assertion that you were an assassin, but if the KGB has been developing a non-corporeal arsenal that you've been experimenting with, then I want to know now."

"Why would you take Jimmy on a picnic if he is very ill and you seem to be a highly misanthropic individual?" Castiel asked, tilting his head.

"All right, I'll mark you down for possible autism. Did you give my minions the slip just to come rushing to quiz me?"

At that very moment the other three doctors came running after Castiel, all yelling at once.

Foreman nearly dropped his clipboard and had to fumble to rescue it. "House! He broke the MRI!"

"He punched a damn hole in the wall!" Taub was nearly hysterical.

Thirteen came to a stop and smoothed her hair. "Some very serious anomalies…" she said quietly, her hands shaking.

"This is not of import. I need to see Jimmy."

"What, so this one's Captain Marvel and his brother's Billy Batson, the crippled newsboy? Sounds like a raw deal for Slim Jim." Suddenly, House threw the empty coffee pot at Castiel.

The diagnostics team nearly had a collective aneurysm. But Castiel caught it with one hand. "I have done Jimmy too much harm already. I may be the only one who can save him."

"Your God complex is showing -"

Castiel dropped the coffee pot, which fortunately did not shatter, and grabbed House by the collar. "How do you know about that?" he growled.

The other two men tried to separate them, but Castiel was immovable. House smirked and croaked, "Figure - of - speech."

"Why are you smiling?" Castiel let go, slightly ashamed of his temper, and wished he had his coat so he could tuck his hands in the pockets. He settled for clasping them behind his back.

"Relax," House told his underlings, "Brass Cas is too worried about Slim Jim to jeopardize their place at the hospital further."

"You sure you don't want him sedated?" Foreman asked, eying Castiel.

House picked up the coffee pot and put it back on the electric heater. "And what the hell good would that do? We don't want any more Hulking out. And yes, I am mixing my DC and Marvel references, shut up. As for you, Castiel, I've decided that I like you two, deep-seated sociopathic and psychotic issues notwithstanding. Because unlike ninety-eight percent of the mewling and puking masses I have to coddle, you are actually interesting."

...

Despite the heavy painkiller haze, Jimmy ached in a million places as he returned to consciousness.

A hand took his. No one had taken his hand for a long time. It was at least a minute before his vision focused well enough to see who it was.

"Claire?" he whispered.

A smile broke over his sixteen-year-old daughter's face. She had grown so much in three years, since that terrible day when he last saw her. She'd sprouted up and filled out. Her lovely blonde hair was short now, though, and she wore all black. "Hi, Dad."

"Honey...I..."

"Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Of course I am, but you know it's not safe, you know -"

"It's not safe with Mom and Keith," she replied, squeezing his hand tighter. "That's his name. He wanted me to call him Dad but it never seemed right."

Jimmy strained to sit up. "Did he hurt you?"

"Not Keith. He tried to be nice. But - well, when you came back, and I let Castiel in, but you made Castiel take you back so I could have a normal life, you remember how Mom got possessed by a demon? Yeah. I never really got over it. We moved to Albany, New York to hide from the demons, but I kept thinking that one day I would be with Mom and she wouldn't be Mom again. Don't cry, Dad, it's just the truth. Would you like some water? I'll get you some."

"Did Castiel fly off? How did you find me, anyway?"

Claire jerked her head towards the door. "Castiel is sitting right outside reading a magazine. I asked him to let us talk in private first. We talked a little. He said he was sorry and I said it was okay. It would have been nice if he let us know you were safe, but I know now that angels don't think like we do. Here you go."

"Thanks, sweetie."

"Mom stopped looking for you. I didn't, though. I joined the email lists of a bunch of Missing Person sites, so I'd get notified of someone showed up. When you and Castiel were brought in here an alert went to my inbox. I called the hospital and found out where you were. I was going to tell Mom, but when I ran into Keith again he was...I don't know how to explain it, but he was standing and smiling oddly. I can tell the difference between you and Castiel by how you move and talk. It's similar. So to test it, I told him I was going to see the movie The Count of Monte Christo with some friends. I read that if you say 'Christo; to a demon it will wince. And he did. It wasn't big, but he did."

After thinking for a moment, Claire fetched her own cup of water. "So I quietly went and packed a bag. And typed Mom a delayed text that wouldn't get sent to her until five hours later. I got a big thing of salt I was keeping under my bed and hid it in my bag until I was out of the house. I made a ring of salt around the whole house to keep the demon in. Then I ran to the bus station as fast as I could."

Jimmy opened and closed his mouth several times. Eventually he put his face in his hands. "I'm sorry for all of this."

"It's okay, Dad. It really is. We're together now, and I know you can't ever be possessed by a demon, and Castiel doesn't need your body anymore, so the nice brothers who helped us last time can teach us how to defend ourselves. And Castiel promises to take care of us."

Castiel entered the room. "Have you finished discussing the essential things?"

"For now, yes," Claire said.

"I've realized, Jimmy, that you're going to be undergoing all the injuries your body sustained while I used it as a vessel, unless I do something to stop it. I'm not sure why, but I do have the ability to prevent your further wounding. It would, however, trap me in this shell for the rest of my existence."

"You'd become human?" Jimmy asked.

"Not really. I would still be myself, and might even regain most of the powers I have while I am on Earth, but I would be barred from Heaven for as long as the Earth shall remain." Castiel paused and spoke more slowly and softly. "I would...I would have wished the price were not so high. And I wish I did not feel such an obligation to you and your family."

"Castiel, I don't know what to say," Jimmy began, reaching to shake his hand.

"Especially since your wife was just killed," Castiel continued with regret.

"WHAT?"

"I was going to break it to him gently," Claire protested.

"Niiiiiice," House commented as he hobbled in. "I need to bring my friend Wilson in later to show him someone who has an even worse bedside manner than I do. Now, Miss Claire Novak, maybe you can help shed some light on your daddy and uncle."

"Castiel is going to heal Dad, so then we'll be fine and we can go."

"Right. Because Castiel is an Angel of the Lord." House's sneer could have melted slugs.

"You should have seen how I reacted when I found out," said a new voice.

Castiel gasped, "Dean..."

Dean Winchester had the tan coat over one arm. And a sawn-off shotgun in the other hand. "We need to talk, Cas. Alone."