Song Remains the Same

Chapter 97: Crazy Train

"I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it!"
- Sherrilyn Kenyon

Only a moment ago, he'd been in a coma and dead to the world. Then one lightning-strike and thunder-crack later, he was sitting up, smiling dreamily at Alex, and proclaiming as if in total awe: "Wow... you're pretty."

Alex and Meg both reacted at the exact same time in the exact same way to the unexpected comment. They drew back slightly as confusion made their faces twist, and then they chorused unintentionally: "What?"

Cas, who had only had eyes for Alex up until that moment, saw Meg and he appeared vaguely startled at her presence. "Oh gracious," he commented mildly, then gave Alex a pointed, conspiratorial look as he leaned closer and spoke to her furtively. "She, however, is not pretty. She has a face like a demon." He paused and his eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Meg. "Wait. She is a demon." He paused again then began to grin widely, something he hadn't really done before. The effect was odd and made Alex feel even more unsure. "Oh, and I'm an angel," he commented softly to himself, then looked behind himself left and right, as if he were looking at his wings. "Yes, of course, how could I forget?" he muttered, apparently pleasantly surprised. On the bedside table, the lamp knocked over and Cas immediately looked guilty like a child would—he froze and looked at Alex as if he were expecting to be chastised. "Oopsie."

...Oopsie? Alex gaped at Cas unabashedly. Had he just knocked something over with one of his wings? But more to the point... OOPSIE?! Something was clearly wrong with Cas. She didn't even think about it, she just did what was deeply ingrained into herself—she pressed the palm of her hand to his forehead, feeling for a fever, forgetting for a brief moment that he wasn't human. "Cas—you feel okay?" she asked, voice dredged in worry.

He grinned again, eyes flickering up to her hand against his forehead—apparently something was funny. "You tell me." Disgruntled, Alex frowned. Was that a joke? He abruptly giggled, a low, sandpapery sound that shocked Alex all over again. Cas didn't giggle...!

She sat back a little then looked back over her shoulder at Meg, who shrugged and pulled a face, just as stumped as Alex was. "Don't look at me. He's your unicorn not mine."

Alex looked back at Cas, who was watching her every move with soft eyes that suggested he was having a sappy, gooey moment in his heart. Last time he'd been conscious, he'd been guilty and defeated—and now he was apparently in la-la land. Was this more of the angel amnesia? Like when he thought he was some guy named Emmanuel? "Cas, do you remember what happened?" she asked cautiously, pretty sure her heart would break if he didn't know her again or if he forgot everything for a second time. But she had to ask—she had to know. "Do you... do you know who I am?" She was sick inside at the thought of him being a stranger to her once more.

However, his answer was immediate and serene. "Yes, of course I know who you are," he said. "You're—" he abruptly glimpsed what was folded up on the bedside table over Alex's shoulder and he stopped mid-sentence. "My trench coat!" he exclaimed, lighting up and abruptly disappearing out of thin air—he had ported himself all of two or three feet to stand beside the bed, and he was taking the coat up in his hands. Disoriented, Alex watched in confusion. "It's like seeing an old friend again," he said, engrossed in the garment he held in his hands. Alex had washed it as best as she could, but bloodstains still remained faintly. "So many memories..." he murmured softly, rubbing his fingers across the fabric. "Some good. Some very, very bad." He deflated mildly for a second, looking more like himself.

"Cas... what's wrong with you?" Alex asked in deep concern, getting up off the bed to stand near him.

"Oh, nothing," he said brightly, turning to face her better as he shrugged the coat on over his all-white hospital outfit. He straightened the sleeves as he talked. "I heard the most delightful pinging noise just now and—" he looked up, his eyes met hers, and he stopped mid-sentence again. A vapid smile spread across his lips and his head canted to the side. "What was I saying? I have utterly forgotten what you asked me." His eyes traveled her face, contentedness resting across his features, like everything he saw made him happy. "You are every masterpiece created," he proclaimed reverently, that smile never fading. "No—no—much better than that," he decided. Behind Alex, Meg made a grossed out, exasperated sound. Cas, however, had spotted something and seemed very immediately enthralled. "Oh. Oh..." he reached out and gingerly plucked a loose hair from the shoulder of Alex's shirt. Completely confused, Alex looked to see what he was doing. He drew the fallen hair away from her and looked at it like it was an amazing treasure. "Look what I found," he murmured happily.