After some food and rest, Dean felt a bit more like himself again. Even so, his anxiety was so high he could barely keep his food down. Everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours was hitting him like a wave, leaving him wild-eyed and unsure of what to think. He could barely remember the happy-go-lucky man he was on Thursday, when his primary concerns were getting laid, getting drunk, and having a good time on his twenty-second birthday. Now suddenly he felt like he had the whole world on his shoulders. He was supposed to help a dragon train? How the hell was this his life now? What could he even train a dragon to do? Sit, play fetch, roll over? And what about Jimmy Novak? He was in there somewhere, inside of the dragon called Castiel. What must that be like for him? Did he even fully understand what it was that he was supposed to do, or that he was expected to go up against not one, but two of his nestmates? Dean was terrified for him, and almost as equally terrified for himself. The story of what happened to Milligan haunted him. What had those fuckers done to Milligan to turn an outstanding soldier into a puppeteer, manipulating a dragon to the whims of some asshole terrorist? How was Dean supposed to fight Milligan and Michael, knowing that neither one of them wanted what they'd become?

Col. Stephens had been right. Dean Winchester was the last person in the world for this job.

Dean's knees were shaking when he was let into the big metal room where the dragon had been kept. Now that he knew about the other dragon, Gabriel, and his escape, he finally understood the reasons for all the metal on the walls and the redundant security doors. No one here was willing to let a mistake like that happen again. Not even Dean was able to get through the security locks. Now, the only major mistake Dean could see was Dean himself. He didn't belong here, but it didn't matter anymore. He had a job to do. All he could do was try to complete his missions to the best of his ability and hope it was enough. The rest would be up to Castiel.

The last time he'd been here, Dean had been so intent on the dragon that he hadn't really noticed much else about the room. Now he saw a large mound of logs, bits of cloth, and other objects were in one corner, shoved together in the rough shape of a nest. A large trough provided water, while a grate along one wall apparently was for waste. Dean didn't see a food bowl. Maybe the dragon ate live prey? That would make sense. His eyes fell on a stain on the metal floor that made him shudder. Yeah, live prey seemed to be the answer. He just hoped Castiel remembered that Dean was supposed to be his partner, not his meal.

Dean frowned, looking around. Something was missing. After a moment, he realized what it was. The dragon. Where was the dragon?

"C'mon, now, mate, it's ok," an unfamiliar voice urged from the direction of the dragon's nest. "We're friends now, see? I'm here to help you. It's alright. Go ahead and touch me."

Dean headed toward the nest and saw two figures. The first was, to his shock, Jimmy Novak. His hair was a bit longer and he looked like he needed a shave, but the face was unmistakably Novak's. Dean's friend was wearing a set of white hospital scrubs with slipper socks on his feet. He sat in the nest with his head tilted to one side and a frown on his face. His eyes squinted at the man in front of him. This was someone Dean didn't recognize. The man was well-built with dark hair. He was currently topless, with a uniform shirt discarded in the nest at his feet. Currently, the man was down on one knee in front of where Novak was sitting, arms outstretched as though he was trying to give Novak a hug.

Novak spotted Dean and brightened. He immediately got up, ignoring the kneeling man and went to Dean, coming right up until his nose was inches from Dean's. "Dean," he announced. "Hello, Dean."

"Um, hi." Dean took a step back. "Personal space, man, don't stand so close to me, ok?"

"Dean." Novak beamed at him.

Dean patted his shoulder and looked over it at the other man. "I see he's as chatty as always."

"What did you expect? Novak was severely brain damaged when he became its joining partner. It will take time to regain what's left of the human memories. It didn't actually speak at all until now. I wasn't altogether sure it could speak at all." The stranger had gotten to his feet. He looked somewhat put out. His accent sounded vaguely English, although it seemed he'd been away long enough for it to be rather muddled.

Dean frowned, glancing at Novak. Novak's attention was on his own arm, gently touching it where Dean had patted him. Dean looked back at the man. "Could you maybe stop calling him 'it?' He may be a dragon now, but he's still a person."

"No, that is where you are very wrong," the man corrected. "It is a dragon, no matter how much it looks like your friend. It is essential for its training that you understand that." He stuck out a hand that had a tattoo of a cross on the back. "Lieutenant Arthur Ketch is the name. I'm here on special assignment. We'll be working together to get Castiel into fighting shape as quick as we can."

"Private First Class Dean Winchester," Dean replied, reaching past Novak and shaking the hand. He could already see problems ahead.

"Dean Winchester," Novak echoed.

Ketch turned and offered Novak a smile. "Yes, Castiel, this is Dean Winchester. Can you say my name now? It's Ketch."

Novak, or Castiel as Dean was supposed to think of him now, cocked his head and squinted at Ketch. It was kind of cute, and Dean smiled. Castiel saw this and beamed.

"Well, he certainly likes you," Ketch noted. "I suppose we'll need a bit of time to make each other's acquaintances, but I'm looking forward to this assignment. Fortunately, I've already made some progress." He indicated Castiel. "I've gotten it some clothes, which it apparently remembered how to put on. It only needed a slight correction when it attempted to put a slipper sock on its hand. Now you've got it speaking. Excellent. I've been trying to get it to respond more to me, but now that you're here, I'm hoping you'll help me with that?" He moved closer, hand out to Castiel. Castiel immediately frowned and moved away, stepping slightly behind Dean. Ketch sighed. "If you could just help calm it so that I could…?"

"You seriously need to stop calling him 'it,'" Dean warned, starting to get pissed off at this pompous asshole. "Dragon or not, that's my friend in there."

"I'm only too aware." Ketch was suddenly still. "You see, the reason I'm here is because my friend Mick Davies and I were the original candidates for this dragon. If Mick hadn't died on the operating table when they were preparing him to be the joining partner, he'd be the one standing there right now instead of your friend, and I would be where you are."

"Oh." Dean winced. He'd forgotten that someone had died in the process of getting lobotomized. "Sorry, man. Trust me, I know how it feels to lose a friend." He glanced back at Castiel, who was staring back at him fondly.

"Indeed." Ketch's face had darkened, his eyes suddenly distant. "I knew Mick since we were both in high school. He was my best friend when my family came to the States. We both joined the Army together and kept in touch, managed to get stationed at the same base. We considered it the highest honor to be selected for this program."

"Sorry," Dean echoed, not knowing what to say. "You, um, know the surgery was to lobotomize him, right? He was ok with that?"

"We had a very long, serious chat about it right before the surgery," Ketch explained. "He was naturally apprehensive, but I reminded him that what we were doing was extremely important for our country. In the end, I believe the thing that helped him go through with it was the knowledge that I would be there to guide him." He looked sadly at Castiel, who ignored him. "Unfortunately, life had other plans."

"Oh man, I'm really sorry." Now Dean's heart went out to the guy. He couldn't imagine being in Ketch's shoes. "Listen, I'm glad you're here to help. To be honest, I have no idea what I'm doing."

"I've been told as much," Ketch said. He seemed to size Dean up. "Never fear, I'll do as much of the heavy lifting as I'm able. All I need from you is to follow my instructions."

"Um, ok?" Dean said. "What do you want me to do?"

"Let's start small. Try directing Castiel to come out of this nest, so that we can all be on neutral territory. That's what I intended to do before you arrived."

Dean wasn't so sure about that. He had no idea what Ketch had been trying to do when he'd arrived, but it didn't matter. He smiled at Castiel. "Hey, Cass, think you could climb out of this nest?"

Cass continued to beam at him.

"Castiel, its… his… name is Castiel," Ketch corrected patiently. "Please do not shorten it and confuse the poor creature further."

"Cass," Cass called. He started walking, stepping over the rise of the nest and onto the floor.

"Hey, good job, buddy!" Dean praised. He moved to the edge of the nest and reached over to playfully rumple Cass's hair before turning to smirk at Ketch. "See, he's not as dumb as you think he is. He just needed…"

Dean's arm was suddenly seized by a hand that was apparently made out of flames. He howled in pain, quickly pulling away and cradling his burned arm, looking in disbelief at Cass. Cass just did the head tilt squint thing he'd done, looking puzzled. "Dude!" Dean yelled. "What the hell was that?"

"He's marking you," Ketch explained. At least the guy had picked up his shirt and was shaking it out before pulling it back on. Dean still didn't understand why he'd had it off in the first place. "In this form, they're able to generate a massive amount of heat with their hands. He used that ability to brand you as his chosen partner. Congratulations, you now have a profound bond."

"Um, ok." Dean just wished his profound bond could hurt a bit less. "Would have been nice if anyone warned me."

"Would that have made it easier?"

Dean ignored the fact that Ketch had a good point. The mark of Cass's hand on his arm was clear. The dragon had burned right through the sleeve of his uniform, leaving a brand in the perfect shape of his hand. Dean could even make out the lines and ridges from Cass's palm and fingerprints. Maybe, when it didn't hurt like a bitch, he'd even think it was cool to have a perfect handprint on his arm? Right now, though, all he wanted was for the pain to stop. He carefully pulled off his shirt, not wanting the charred remains of his sleeve to get into the burn. Son of a bitch hurt like hell. Dean eyed the confused dragon warily. "Does he have any other of these abilities I should know about?"

"That brings us to our next step." Ketch nimbly jumped over the edge of the nest, landing on the balls of his feet near Cass, who blinked at him. Dean exited the nest with far less grace, looking to Ketch for instruction. Ketch snapped his fingers at Cass to regain his attention when the dragon went back to beaming at Dean. "Castiel, listen to me," he called when Cass turned to frown and squint at him again. "You like Dean, right? You want to show off for him a bit? I would much appreciate if you would kindly go back to your dragon form."

Cass turned away to beam at Dean again. Ketch gave a deep sigh and looked pointedly at Dean.

Dean cleared his throat. "Hey Cass, do you think you could go back to being a dragon like Ketch asked?"

Immediately, Cass's body began to glow. There was a quick rush of air, and suddenly, he was aware of something very large standing near him. He looked up and saw the dragon's snout. Cass had his great head down to where one blue eye could continue to stare at Dean, bending his front legs slightly to accommodate the move. "Dean."

Dean grinned and patted Cass's nose. "Hey, awesome!"

"Excellent." Lt. Ketch's voice sounded a bit off. The English ex-patriot was smiling and appeared pleased, but something about his posture was a little too stiff to be as happy as he seemed. Dean supposed it must be difficult for him. Seeing Castiel probably brought back a lot of pain. The man had just lost his best friend, after all. Dean patted Cass's nose again. "Hey Cass, Ketch is here to help train, so do you think you could listen to him and let him help us?"

Cass exhaled a large puff of warm air in Dean's direction. He seemed reluctant to turn his head to Ketch, but when he did, Ketch seemed pleased. "Excellent, Winchester, that will help immensely! Now, I understand he's speaking telepathically to you, but as I can't hear him, I'd appreciate it if you'd relay anything he says."

"Sure," Dean agreed.

Ketch nodded. "Alright, let's go through a few more basic commands."

Ketch had Cass do some basic tricks, including sit, roll over, open and close his wings, and moving from place to place. Naturally. Cass obeyed, but he constantly looked toward Dean. Dean nodded encouragement, praising the dragon when he did what he was asked. Ketch certainly was happy. After Cass successfully completed the last command, Ketch clapped his hands together. "Excellent! Let's all take a break. Castiel, some people will be coming in soon with the saddle, and once that's in place, we'll be working outside."

"Saddle?" Dean echoed. "Wait, what saddle? Who's going to ride Cass?"

"I am," Ketch said, already turning to the door.

The dragon immediately growled. "No, Dean, I don't want him to ride me."

"Um, he said he doesn't want you to ride him," Dean translated.

Ketch froze in his tracks, his back stiff. He turned around to face Cass, expression stern. "Castiel," he began, "I know you like Winchester, but he asked you to let me help you train, remember?"

Cass snorted, narrowing his eyes at the human. "I don't want you to ride me, only Dean!"

"Well, he's getting better at speaking, but he's not backing down from this one," Dean apologized. "He says he only wants me to ride him."

Ketch pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply. "Very well. For now, we'll have Winchester ride you. We'll set up a two-way radio between us so I can relay commands."

Cass gave a pleased rumble. He turned his head back to Dean and nuzzled him. Dean sheepishly patted the scaly muzzle.

Ketch was already storming out. He obviously wasn't thrilled with the situation. Dean turned to Cass and frowned. "He just lost his best friend, who was supposed to be joining up to make you instead of Novak," he reminded the dragon. "I couldn't imagine if I lost you like that. I actually thought I did, when I realized you'd swallowed him. Now you're him, and I'm here with you, but what about Lt. Ketch? You should try to be nicer to him."

"I don't like him," Cass grumbled, lying down on his stomach in an obvious pout. "He wants me to listen to him instead of you. He was trying very hard to get me to mark him before you came, but I wouldn't. I only wanted you."

Oh. So that's what Ketch had been doing. Dean wasn't sure how he felt about that, but it was an issue for later. "Listen, he knows what he's doing and I don't," Dean explained. "I'll learn as I go, but right now, we really need his help. Could you try to be a little nicer to him?"

"I don't want him to ride me," Cass insisted.

"And he's not. He's letting me do it for now, but eventually, he's going to have to come with us. I guess they'll have to build a double saddle for that." Dean eyed the dragon, wondering where the saddle would even go. Between the wings? Behind them? Another thought occurred to him, one that made him skip a breath. Cass had wings. Wings meant flying. Surely he wasn't expected to sit in a damned saddle on a dragon's back and fly? Well, that would be all Ketch. No way in Hell was Dean Winchester ever going to be riding a dragon in flight.

Cass grumbled quietly, apparently still unhappy about Ketch wanting to ride him. Dean gave him an awkward pat and headed out.