Chapter Two

Manny drifted around Daphne's apartment for the next few weeks. He was caught by surprise every time he walked past a reflective surface, and a flash of blue caught his eye. It was only ever his own face, but it still didn't feel right.

To keep himself busy, and to repay Daphne, Manny tidied up around the place. He kept things clean, washed dishes, did laundry, and made sure Daphne had nothing to worry about when she came home from work.

He suffered headaches most days, but his stomach pains and fever stayed away. Despite that, he was constantly itchy, and something nagged at the back of his mind. Whenever he tried to figure out what it was, it slipped away, like a shadow shrinking in the light. He examined the remains of his IDs frequently, but there was never anything new to find. Sometimes he tried to contemplate who he might have been, but whenever he did, his head throbbed and he was horribly nauseous until he stopped.

As the days passed, thoughts of his past faded from his mind, but not completely. The niggle was always there, and he began to feel restless.

Daphne gently tried to prompt his memory, but that just made it worse, so she moved on and tried to find something for him to do.

'My friends think I'm crazy,' she said to him one day.

'For taking in a strange man you hit with your car, I assume,' said Manny while he folded the laundry.

'Yeah.'

'Why did you?' he asked, fixing his gaze on her until she squirmed uncomfortably.

'I don't know, it just felt like the right thing to do.'

Manny smiled. 'I appreciate it, no matter the reason.'

Daphne nodded. 'I'm gonna see if I can get you some shifts tomorrow. Since you don't have any ID or social security it would have to be cash in hand. You cool with that?'

Manny shrugged. 'I don't see why not. I'd only be giving it to you.'

'You don't have to do that.'

'It's only fair. I eat enough of your food.'

'Yeah, you got me there.'

Something about the way she said it rattled around his head, and an image of a man with green eyes briefly flashed before him, followed by a spike of pain. He grunted and grabbed his head with one hand, and steadied himself gripping the back of the couch with the other.

'What's wrong?' Daphne said in alarm, coming over to him and grabbing his shoulders.

But Manny couldn't speak through the pain. All he could do was force himself to breathe through it until it subsided. When it did, he became aware of Daphne's hands on him, and the touch was almost too much to bear, so he shrugged her off and went to the kitchen for a glass of water.

'What happened?' Daphne pressed, following him.

Manny filled the glass, his hands shaking. 'I don't know,' he murmured. 'My head…'

'Maybe you should sit down.'

Manny nodded and let her guide him back to the couch.

'Does it still hurt?'

'A little.'

She pressed a hand to his forehead. 'You're warm, maybe your fever's coming back.' She pushed him down on the couch and draped a blanket over him. 'You should rest. I gotta go to work, but just chill out and watch some TV or something. Don't worry about dinner tonight, I'll pick something up on the way home.'

'All right,' said Manny, his voice weak.

Daphne refilled his water for him before leaving for her shift.

He did as he was told and wrapped himself up in the blanket. He tried to think about what had happened, but his mind had turned to mush and he couldn't focus on anything.

The rest of the day passed in a haze of crap TV until Daphne came home, and he realised he hadn't moved in hours.

'How are you feeling?' Daphne asked, dumping the bags of takeout she'd brought onto the table.

Manny shrugged and finally sat up. 'All right, I think,' he said.

'Don't get up, I'll bring the food over.' She came over to the couch and placed a carton of noodles in his lap. She felt his forehead again.

'Seems normal,' she shrugged.

Despite not feeling hungry, Manny made himself eat the noodles, so as not to offend Daphne.

'Good news,' said Daphne, digging into her own food. 'My boss said you can come in tomorrow for a trial shift. What do you think?'

Manny nodded. 'It will be nice to have something to do.'

'Great. You'll have to fill out some forms, so you'll need a last name.'

Without thinking, Manny blurted out, 'Winchester.'

Daphne raised her eyebrows. 'That was quick. Do you think it's your real name?'

'I - I don't know.' A tremor ran through him and he nearly dropped his noodles. He shook his head and cleared his mind. 'I'm all right,' he said at Daphne's concerned expression.

'It could be good, maybe your memories will come back,' Daphne said kindly.

Manny nodded, but something about the possibility of recovering his memories caused a deep pit of dread to form in his stomach.

He didn't speak much for the rest of the evening, and Daphne dozed off on the couch. He busied himself with tidying up, throwing the empty cartons in the trash and washing up their utensils. Just as he was about to put the glasses away in the cabinet, he heard a whisper in his ear and he froze on the spot.

'Cas,' it called.

He recognised the voice, and many emotions at once rushed through him.

'I don't know where I am,' it continued. 'I can't get any cell service. I don't know if you can hear me, but if you can, you've gotta find me. Please, Cas.'

Manny was almost irresistibly drawn to it. He ached to go to it, warmth spreading through his chest. It felt like home, but where and how would he go? But then another feeling took over. The same dread he'd felt earlier, with an equally strong urge to run as far from the voice as possible. His whole body tensed and his stomach cramped so tightly he thought it would tear him apart. Before he knew it, he was on all fours struggling for breath.

Daphne woke up when he hit the floor and scrambled over to him. 'Breathe, Manny,' she said softly, rubbing his shoulders.

Manny fell onto his side, squeezing his arms around his stomach. Then a fog muddled his head, smoothing out the swirl of emotion and emptying his mind. The cramping abated and Manny lay on the floor, listening to his own breath. The fog faded away, taking the memory of the voice with it.

When he sat up, he found he had been sweating, and his hair stuck to his face.

'Maybe you should go to a doctor,' Daphne said, pressing a cold cloth to his face.

Manny shivered. 'If they couldn't find what was wrong with me at the hospital, I doubt a regular doctor would be able to.'

'If you're sure… Come on, get some sleep. We have to go shopping tomorrow and get you some clothes for work.'

Manny got to his feet, slightly light-headed, and collapsed back onto the couch.

Daphne bid him goodnight and switched off all the lights.

Manny lay in the dark. It was easy to fall asleep, but it wasn't long before he began to dream. So vivid he could smell the blood and sweat.

He was supporting a man wearing a green jacket around the waist with one hand and holding the shining silver blade with the other. He kicked a door open and pulled the man inside.

He lowered the man to the ground and saw he was bleeding profusely from a wound to the shoulder. He reached out, a warm glow filling his palm, but the man pushed him away.

'I'm fine,' he said, pressing a hand to his shoulder. 'Save your juice.'

'You have a bullet in your shoulder.'

'Don't I know it,' he said with a harsh laugh. He was pale and losing blood, but there was still a fierce sparkle in his green eyes. 'If we make it out of this you can pull it out yourself, okay?' he conceded.

He nodded and set about barricading the door, throwing furniture around as though it weighed nothing at all, his coat whipping around him as he moved as fast as possible. He backed away from his handiwork, just as something slammed into the door, rattling the stacked furniture.

The man in the green jacket stumbled back to his feet and held a gun in his good hand, but he was clearly in pain.

The door was slammed again and he raised the silver blade. He scanned the room for any way out, but there were no windows and no other doors.

'We'll just have to fight our way out,' said the man. His tone was confident, but the fear was plain on his face.

The door shook once more and this time the furniture started falling away.

He raised a hand and power swept through him. He aimed it at the door, pushing it closed. He ground his teeth together. Whatever was trying to get in was strong. His hand shook and his hold on the door waned, until a final pulse broke it and he stumbled backwards.

Panic rose within him. He was desperate to protect this man, so he threw himself between the door and the man behind him.

The furniture barricade finally collapsed and the door flew open with a crash.

On the other side was a gaunt man dressed all in black. He looked as though a strong breeze might bowl him over, but an aura of dreadful power washed over them, sending them both into fits of violent shivers.

The gaunt man cast an eye over him, looking almost bored. 'This does not concern you, angel.' His voice was soft, but terrible.

'I disagree.' He raised his blade and rushed at the gaunt man. He didn't even get close, caught in an invisible vice-like grip.

'Can't you just leave well enough alone?'

'Never,' he growled.

The gaunt man sighed and flicked a finger.

A scream tore from his lips as his arm was violently twisted. He heard several cracks and he was forced to drop his blade.

A gunshot rang out, but the bullet stopped dead, bouncing uselessly off the gaunt man's shoulder.

'Did you honestly expect that to work?'

'No,' said the man in green, 'but it made me feel better.'

A ghost of a smile touched the gaunt man's lips.

'Who bound you this time? I gotta tell ya, you're less impressive every time you let someone leash you.'

'Luckily what you think of me doesn't mean much at all. Have you ever considered that it is simply your time?'

The man in green just smiled. 'Nah. This isn't how I go out. Come on, who got you?'

'My lips are sealed.'

The gaunt man stepped forward and the man in green shot again as he backed against the wall.

'You know you can't hide from me.'

He looked down at his mangled arm then sent his power through it, knitting the bones back together. He snatched up the blade and stepped between the other two men again, feeling power swelling inside him with an accompanying high-pitched whine. 'No,' he said, 'but I can.' He made a grab for the man in green and the room flashed bright white. He couldn't see, but he could feel the man in his arms and heard a loud flutter of feathers.

Manny shot awake breathing heavily and rubbed his arm. There was no pain, but it had felt so real. He rubbed his eyes and waited for his heart to stop hammering before lying back down on the couch. The fog came again, filling his mind and smoothing away the dream until he couldn't remember why he'd awoken, and he sunk back into a dreamless sleep.

Thanks to Kathy for the review!