Beginning of the end
I laughed incredulously. "Are you serious? Dean is real. I've talked to him, I've been with him."
Jo shook her head sadly and wrote down a few notes on her notepad. "Castiel, please listen to me. He does not exist. You made him up to cope with everything that's happened to you and that's okay. I'm here to help you."
"You're not here to do shit but call me crazy! Isn't that your job? To decide whether I'm insane or not? Cause you're doing a pretty good job at it."
"I don't think you're crazy," she said softly. "I think that you were under immense stress and conjured up this idea of someone else to help you through it. It happens all the time."
"I am not fucking crazy!," I shouted at her.
She flinched slightly and frowned. "Castiel, it was all in your head. You broke out of prison alone. You murdered all of those innocent people alone and you got caught alone. Dean was never with you because Dean is not real!," the blonde cried out.
I looked up and into her eyes that were now filled with anger and desperation. It was a first to see her so worked up like this. But maybe I broke her.
A chuckle started to bubble up in my throat. It was low at first but turned louder with each passing second. I was aware of how insane I must have looked.
"You're a psychopath," she whispered.
I stopped laughing and tilted my head with a twisted, dark smile. "I prefer creative."
"So creative that you made up Dean Winchester?," she countered me with a raised eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Okay. I'll give you the benefit of doubt right now, why don't you think Dean is real?"
Jo pursed her lips before getting up from her chair and grabbing a manila folder off of her desk. She sat back down and opened it carefully.
I leaned forward a bit with my curiosity peaked. "What is that?," I asked.
"A folder containing pictures of you by yourself and other documents of the bodies you left behind. Lets go to the night you somehow managed to break out of prison alone," she said while holding a sheet of paper of the night we escaped.
I took the paper from her hand and examined it closely. It was black and white from a surveillance camera. It showed me running across the grass. I remember that time so clearly but Dean was right next to me. But in the photo, he wasn't.
I frowned and handed her back the photo with a shrug. "He was out of the frame," I reasoned to her.
"Dean Winchester does not exist," she repeated herself before handing me another photograph.
This was the time that I was being chased by that crazy Josh guy. I remember feeling frightened and my fight or flight instincts kicked in. It was the night I really started to lose it.
In the photo taken from another surveillance camera, showed me holding the shovel as his corpse laid on the blue tarp. But Dean was the one to get rid of the body. I was in shock.
I shook my head and crumbled the paper up. "No! Dean cut his head off and did the work!," I shouted.
Jo shook her head sadly. "Dean Winchester does not exist."
She handed me one more photograph. It was the night Metatron died. This one was taken from a red light camera. It showed me standing on the sidewalk across from him. I was in mid lunge with the knife in the air as he cowered against the brick wall.
Again, no Dean was around. But I remember it all so clearly. Dean had helped me drag his body into the alleyway and make it look like someone else did it. He was standing right next to me on the sidewalk for God's sake!
I ripped the paper in half angrily. "No! No! No! No! He is real! He's real!," I screamed and began to pull my hair out of stress.
Jo stood up and glared at me. She put both her hands on each arm rest of my chair and leaned forward. "Dean Winchester does not exist," she said slowly through gritted teeth.
"Then explain how he was an inmate here! He planned all of this!"
"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?," she asked as she backed away. Her blonde hair flowing over her shoulder.
"Tell me you have proof that he was here," I begged her. My heart was in my throat. My stomach had dropped and my head was pounding. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't.
"There is no proof because Dean Winchester does not exist," she said again.
Tears began to water up mercifully in my eyes. Oh God. Dean was never real and I really am crazy. I need to be locked up in an insane asylum.
I began to cry and shake in the small chair. I brought my face down to my palms and cried into them for what felt like hours. I could faintly feel the warm touch of a hand gliding up and down my back gently.
I came up for air a while later and sniffled. I felt like a wreck and all I wanted to do was sleep for a few weeks. Jo smiled softly and handed me a tissue.
I wiped my red eyes and blew my nose until I lost all feeling in my face. "See, doesn't that feel better?," she asked gently like I was some sort of wounded animal she had just healed.
I shook my head and sniffled again. She frowned and wrote down another note quickly. "I'm going to put you on some prescriptions. They should be able to help with your sleep and allow you to move on from your mental breakdown."
I nodded but said nothing. This was the end of my life. Dean was y life and now that he was gone I just wanted to go with him. Nothing mattered anymore.
Two months later
"Castiel! Time for your pill," a sweet voice called through the window of my cell door.
I hopped off my single bed and smiled. I was feeling much better these days. I spent the first month on the medication, obsessing over Dean and when he was going to come back.
I taped the note to the wall and studied it for hours upon hours before finally coming to the conclusion that one of the guards must have wrote it as some sort of sick joke on me.
After I finally let go of Dean and started moving on, I was able to start living in the present. I knew I was never leaving this cell or prison but I didn't feel so alone anymore. I was truly at peace.
"Hey, Jo!," I said cheerfully before grabbing the small white pill from the palm of her hand.
"Hey, Cas! Any side effects?," she asked the usual doctor questions every morning.
I shook my head and smiled proudly. "Nope," I replied before swallowing the pill down.
She smiled back at me. "That's so great to hear! I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
I nodded and waved goodbye to her before going back to my bed. I sat down and glanced at the piece of paper still hanging on the wall. No. I was not going to allow myself to waste anymore time on Dean. He wasn't real. I had to keep reminding myself.
"How's it hanging, Castiel?," a voice came from the window.
I smiled to myself. Raphael. He was my day guard. The prison ordered nonstop around the clock watch on me but I didn't mind and neither did the guards now that I managed to calm down considerably.
"Oh, you know, just counting down the next sixty years," I replied.
Raphael chuckled. "I hear that. Shouldn't take too long."
I laughed along with him. I couldn't help but feel that maybe this was where I was supposed to be. Although, Jo couldn't find the answers to how I broke out alone or where I was living after. I had to move on. I had to.
Sometimes I would have dreams of Dean and they would feel so real. It was terrifying knowing that my mind could make something like that up. But its been four months since I've entered this place and I've long gave up hope.
Gabe sends me letters sometimes telling me how his life has been going since beating cancer. He met a girl, Kali, and fell in love. Now he runs a successful candy shop in Illinois.
So that ends the story of the infamous psychopath Castiel Novak. If I could go back and change the events of my history, I wouldn't change a damn thing. Come back in sixty years to see if I can make parole.
Whistling. I can hear whistling. It's ringing in my ears but its familiar. It was 'Sweet child o' mine.'
"Alfie?," I called out for my nigh guard. I had been sleeping when a loud bang had woken me up followed by the whistling. What was going on?
The hallway was eerily silent and I couldn't see the blonde hair that was usually visible through the small window on my door when Alfie was assigned to me. Something wasn't right.
I slowly got out of bed and tip toed through the room to look out the window. I could hear struggling now before a flash of shoulder length hair that perfectly resembled Sam walked by in a guards uniform.
That wasn't right. I took my pill today just like I did every day. So why am I imagining Sam?
I wrapped my hand around the bar of the window and peered around me. "Sam?," I called out in confusion.
The footsteps got closer and closer to my door. I could feel my heart thumping heavily in my chest. Sam's face appeared through the window. "Hey, Cas. Bet you thought we forgot about ya."
I fell back into my room and shook my head violently. "This isn't real," I repeated over and over to myself.
Sam chuckled and watched me from through the bars. "It is, Castiel. This guy didn't have the damn keys so I'm sure Deans off to find someone who does."
I furrowed my brow. "Why are you still here? I took my pill today!"
Sam frowned. "Is that what they told you? That we're not real?"
I nodded quickly and never took my eyes off of him but continued to sit on the cold ground.
"Ah, I'm sorry about that, Castiel. You understand why we had to hack into the surveillance system and edit Dean and ourselves out of it, don't you?," he asked genuinely upset.
I stood up slowly with shaky knees and made it back to the door where Sam still was. "I'm not crazy?," I asked.
"Not more crazy than any of us," he replied back with a smile.
Footsteps. They were heavier than Sam's but sounded in a way that I knew who they belonged to. All those nights and mornings where Dean would walk down the hall to go to the bathroom or make me breakfast in bed. I knew those footsteps. But it can't be.
It couldn't be. Sam stepped out of the way as a familiar freckled face appeared in the small window holding a large set of keys. He was also dressed in a guard uniform.
He grinned cockily and said those words that he first spoke to me. "My names Dean Winchester and I've come to break you out."