The Day I Fly Away

The mental ward always was a cold place. The tiles chilled Castiel's feet as he walked across it, but he could not feel warmth or a chill as he was an angel. All Castiel could hear was the soft tapping of game pieces on the game board while others spoke around him, some yelled, and some laughed. Castiel allowed himself to smile as he picked up another card and moved his game piece up a few places.

"Castiel," he heard a woman call his name with a plastic smile, a pitying smile. "You're being transferred to a new doctor, all right? No freaking out okay?" She spoke as if he would have some break down if he was suddenly in the presence of someone he did not know. Castiel felt indifferent to this.

Castiel stood where he was, collecting his game pieces and stuffing them into his pocket as he made his way over. He nodded and the woman motioned for him to follow. It was the fifth doctor this month and twelfth this year since he'd been admitted. He tucked a loose curl of his hair behind his ear, some habit he'd always gotten into, and he'd glanced at therapists notes, this was apparently a telltale sign of schizophrenia. Castiel's mind wandered away from him and he found his eyes losing focus, looking around a new place that wasn't the hospital he was trapped in; this was one of the only times he was ever free.

It's a secret, Balthazar whispered to him. Castiel nodded, "I know," he said softly. The secret Balthazar was referring to was the secret of demons, angels, and monsters, because if others knew there would be chaos. Something cold ripped through Castiel like a rock when—

"Castiel?" the nurse snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. "Come on, don't go zoning out on me already! Doctor Winchester is a nice guy. You'll like him."

Sometimes Castiel wished he had a remote that controlled that girl's mouth that sputtered like a broken record. You'll like her/him. She/he's nice! He heard Balthazar laugh at the nurse and Castiel cracked a smile himself. The nurse opened the door for him and Castiel wandered into a room that was two degrees cooler. He was still barefoot.

"Hey, you're Cas right?" a man at the desk asked.

"Castiel," said man corrected, "Yes, I am. You are Doctor Winchester?"

"I know, man, I was just giving you a nickname. Seems cooler right? And Dean's fine."

The doctor gestured to the seat in front of him and Castiel slid into the seat. His hand slipped into his pocket and he played with the red pawn under the table. Put that away, Balthazar said to him, there's a man right there. Isn't that rude?

"So," Dean started, flipping through some papers. "I've been told you're schizophrenic."

"They do say that," Castiel agreed, his voice soft yet with an edge. It's almost as if he were standing by a cliff with an avalanche warning above him. Don't be too loud to trigger the rocks, but at the same time, he felt uneasy. That type of voice.

"But you don't agree with them?" Dean asked, and Castiel was yanked back to earth by a rope around his neck.

Why do they even bother having different doctors? They all say the same things, he heard the slow drawl of a girl, a demon that was a kind demon nonetheless. She called herself Meg. "I don't know," Castiel muttered back to her and smiled. Don't talk to me while there's a hottie right over there, Meg teased. Castiel's head snapped to his right and he glared at the seemingly empty space.

Dean looked at Castiel curiously. "Who's that?" he asked.

Castiel looked back at him and said, "Who? Meg?"

Dean smiled, "Yeah her."

Castiel glared again, "She's just joking around, don't listen to her."

"All right," Dean raised his hands in surrender. He paused for a few minutes before starting again, "You know," he started softly. "Sometimes I think people like you are special. Like they can see things no one else can. Sort of like a super power."

Castiel tilted his head out of habit, as if somehow the sky would open up and pour into him because that's how he felt at the moment; just empty and needing something to fill him up. Being poison, being magic, being thought, being beings. He felt something stir inside him because no one's ever said that before. "Special?" he asked and felt Meg nudge his arm.

"Yeah I mean, I'm boring," Dean jammed a thumb to his chest. "Everything I can see, you can, too. But you? I can't see Meg, and you can. I can't hear her either. What's she like?"

Castiel looked at Dean for a while, feeling like a tornado of everything was rushing through the room. His fingers twitched as he wished to turn around just to check.

"She's annoying," he blurted out and Dean laughed. Castiel's cheeks flushed. "I mean, she can be annoying. She's always teasing me, but she's also sweet sometimes."

Dean nodded in that doctor-way and Castiel was a bit surprised when Dean didn't write anything down. The room felt so warm and comfortable, and for the first time someone other than his brothers or Meg had made him smile. Ice skating in summer was treacherous, then why did Castiel love it? Love this feeling of ease between the two of them. Because this ice was melting in everything that was this person and what was this feeling? Was it drowning but lifting and flying at the same time, and oh, just one minute of nothingness because Castiel just can't breathe.

"Oh cool," Dean said and leaned his elbows on the desk. "Anyone else I should know about or is there only Meg?"

Castiel fiddled with the red pawn in his pocket. "Well, there are others of course. I have over two million brothers and sisters."

Dean leaned back in his chair, letting out a big breath. "Holy shit, man, how are the family reunions?"

Castiel laughed and peered up at Dean whom was smiling as well. Something was blazing inside him like an orchestra of every melody on the Earth and in the Heavens. This man was nothing like anyone he'd ever met, and somehow, brighter than the brightest archangel.

Dean stretched out his arms again before continuing, "So tell me more about your family. The people I can't see but wish I could."

Castiel picked his feet up from the ground and crossed them adolescently in his chair. He found himself telling Dean about Balthazar, the cocky and annoying brother, and about Gabriel, the asshole who always pranked him. He told Dean about Anna, his little sister that ran away from home and is somewhere on Earth now, like him. Dean nodded throughout the whole thing, smiling and never questioning a word or giving him that look that just screams "You're crazy."

Castiel picked the red game piece pawn and put it on top of the desk as he continued to tell stories, like how when he was twelve Gabriel stuck gum in his hair and he had to go to his birthday party like that, and how glad he was when no one noticed or at least showed that they noticed. Dean laughed that beautiful, orchestral laugh and Castiel found himself laughing, too.

And in some unspoken signal Castiel leaned over on the table and smiled wider than he had in a long time. Dean mirrored him and their eyes prodded at each other in some game of hide and seek except all there was was seeking and never any hiding.

"Your eyes are so blue."

"Your eyes are so green."

Dean laughed again. "All right then," and the spell was broken as he sat back. "So, Cas, I think I'll give you these two ugly things. Take this one every morning and night and the other one after dinner. Okay?"

Oh right. Dean was his doctor. Castiel nodded and took the pawn back from the table and stuffed it back in his pocket. He grabbed the medicine next and placed them neatly next to each other. Dean flashed him another smile and Castiel felt his soul back in Heaven. Then the door opened and another patient walked in.

"See ya, Cas," Dean gave him a small wave before his eyes landed on the other person.

Castiel turned around the corner, hearing faintly in the background as Dean greeted the next patient. He pulled the game piece out of his pocket and sat down by the wall, placing it in front of him and fishing out other pieces. The game board was memorized, and he picked up a fabricated card and slid the red pawn over a few inches because—an earthquake or was that his heart beating wildly?—that's what made him special.


"Good morning," Dean greeted as Castiel sat down again that next morning. "How are you feeling?"

Castiel shrugged. Dean copied him jestingly.

With a big sigh Dean leaned over the desk and folded his hands. Their eyes locked and the key was thrown to the sea and Castiel did not go fetch it since he did not like the ocean. Dean's eyes narrowed as if he was solving the mystery, the puzzle that was Castiel. And just scream from the Heavens because down on earth, Castiel can't hear him loud enough.

"All right, entertain me now. I'm bored," Dean proclaimed and his chair rolled back a few inches.

"Entertain you?" the words felt strange on Castiel's tongue. This man was his doctor, right? Castiel's eyes traced around Dean's face, trying to pick up on any clue that he may not have been serious. He found none.

Dean took out a piece of paper and clicked his pen loudly. Twice. "I'll have to mark you down for a hearing check," he joked, peeking up at him again before crumpling the paper. "Yeah, man, tell me a story or something. I've been sitting here all day, I could do without some trivial shit. C'mon."

Castiel tilted his head again and Dean did the same as if to say you do that a lot you know. Castiel's head snapped back upright, fighting the blush that was knocking at his door.

"There once was a tree… Who loved a little boy…" Castiel started, one of the only stories he really knew. His eyes darted up to Dean to see if he recognized it. Dean didn't. "And every day the boy would climb up the tree, and swing on her branches, and eat apples, and be happy. The tree loved the boy so much, and the boy loved the tree, and they were happy."

"The Giving Tree?" Dean said softly and smiled. "Gotta love Shel Silverstein."

"I don't know any stories, really," Castiel said, finding no point on continuing The Giving Tree since Dean had already known it.

"Tell me yours."

"Mine?"

"Your story."

Castiel played with the red pawn under the desk.

"It's all your fault! I hate you! I hate you! I'll kill you!"
"I'm sorry!"

"No you aren't!"

"I don't like my story," Castiel shook his head and twirled the game piece.

"Well you can't blame me for being curious," Dean said and leaned on one arm.

Castiel held his soaking shirt over his stomach and cried silently, locked in the closet of his bedroom as he heard angry shouts from outside. The door shook and rattled and Castiel hugged his knees for some sort of comfort. The world felt like it was shaking and Castiel had never been more afraid—only, please, only would he behave. He yanked another shirt down from the closet and hid his face in it. He wanted to disappear.

"Come out here, bitch!"

"I don't like my story at all," Castiel insisted, his voice becoming frantic and his hands starting to shake.

Dean seemed to back off after that. He nodded, "All right, okay," he gave up, "What about I tell you my story?"

Castiel seemed to calm down at the shift in attention. He felt something drop over them, something chilling and cold, but the refreshing kind of cold. Like iced lemonade rather than being locked outside in the snow.

Castiel nodded eagerly.
"Okay, okay," Dean grinned and clapped his hands. "Let's see… I have a brother, Sam. He's awesome. We go out and hang every once and a while. He has a girlfriend and everything. I live alone, but I like the solitude. Gotta think y'know? Anyways, I got to admit my life was pretty blessed, and I'm lucky to be where I am. Worst thing I can think of that happened was that my mom almost died in a house fire, but the fire department came on time and we all go out safe. I always like helping people, did a lot of tutoring in school. I guess that's where this whole doctor place came from, but I don't really like to see people die so I didn't want to be that person behind the medical table and see the flat line… Wow I just got depressing," Dean laughed, "Anyways, I like helping out people like you.

"But there's one thing people always get wrong. There's nothing wrong with being the way you are. I think you're more beautiful the more unique you are, and you, Castiel, you're a whole new brand of human, angel, whatever you want to say you are, because you are. Like I said: Me? I'm boring, but you, Oh you, Castiel… I'm going to have to make up a new word just to say—"

"Mr. Winchester, another patient. You're going overtime."

Dean's head snapped in the direction of the door and he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh.

"All right, bring 'im in," he said regretfully.

Castiel stuffed the Sorry game piece back into his pocket and stood with a creak of the chair. Before he got far, though, Dean stood and grabbed his wrist.

"To say how perfect you are," he finished, words rushed and desperate to get the point across.

Castiel felt as if electricity was shooting through him and a light blush dusted over his cheeks. It happened so quickly that Castiel wasn't sure if it had happened. Dean was sitting back at his desk and already greeting the next patient. Dean's eyes lifted back up to Castiel and he gave him a wave.

Castiel left the room and leaned against the door for a few seconds, catching his breath before it got too far away from him.

You like him, Meg teased, You really like him.


A/N: Soo did you like it? Should I continue? I love reviews~