Perception

Happy Mistake (Mishake)

"How'd you know so much about that drug, Sammy? Are you a drug lord while I'm asleep?" Dean asked, smirking bemusedly.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I took a pharmaceuticals course when we lived in Utah."

Dean nodded and muttered something under his breath (that sounded suspiciously like "nerd") before looking to Castiel, who was leaning his back against the couch arm, resting his head against the back with his knees drawn to his chest, eyes closed as he listened to Dishwalla (but Castiel didn't know that; it was just the song about children being curious about religion). He had a small, peaceful smile on his lips, like he didn't hold the knowledge that his world was about to be turned upside down.

The elder Winchester wondered how Castiel could be so collected about it. Sure, Dean could put up a good facade, but he could never ignore it like Castiel did. Maybe it came with the schizophrenic package. But after the discovery that it wasn't just Castiel seeing these things, Dean started to doubt just how crazy the man really was. Sure, his thought process was a bit simpler than the brothers' (when he had shared his thoughts about this with Sam, his younger brother said it was probably some psychological repression), but he was just as intelligent - if not more so - as everyone else. He just didn't seem to process emotions very well.

"So," said Sam after a long moment of silence. "How're we going to gank it?"

"Hopefully get it in a Devil's trap, read off an exorcism. You know, the works."

"And what'll we do with Cas?"

Dean shrugged and grimaced. "Try to keep him away. Maybe we should lock him in his room until we're done."

"No," Castiel suddenly interrupted. "I am going to accompany you. It is only fair."

Both Winchesters opened their mouths to protest, but Castiel opened his eyes, his intense gaze slotting into Dean's perfectly. They remained in eye contact until Dean looked away, to which Castiel exhaled and said, "You cannot stop me."

...

Footsteps sounded in the corridor outside after three hours of silence. Castiel shifted in the cabinet he and Dean were hidden in. Sam was crouched in a little alcove in the back of the room that was just big enough the fit him in.

The door opened and the men could see black shoes saunter into the room. They waited until the footsteps stopped abruptly, and there was a muttered curse before emerging from their hiding spots.

"Alright, Chunk Norris," Dean said, rolling his shoulders. "Let's get this over with."

The demon's eyes turned black in anger and it poked its third chin. "I knew I should've picked the nurse," it muttered.

Castiel cocked his head to the side. It was strange, seeing Dr. Squill like that. For seven years, the man had been his doctor, and now he was the enemy. It was truly bizarre.

The youngest Winchester was flipping through their father's journal when he spoke. "Why were you drugging Cas?"

The demon burst into boisterous laughter.

And it just kept laughing.

And laughing.

And laughing.

"Okay!" growled Dean, throwing his arms up. "You found it yet, Sammy?"

"No." He paused. "Dean, it's not here."

Another laugh from the demon. "Don't you think we're smart enough to check it?"

Dean looked over Sam's shoulder and glared at the book. "Shut up."

Suddenly, there was a yelp and Dean whipped around, only to see Castiel cradling his hand to his chest and watching the doctor's body double over in pain.

"Oh..." the smallest man breathed before reaching his hand out again. A bright light emitted from the demon's body before it collapsed to the floor.

The three stared in silence before snapping into action and shoving their stuff together.

"C'mon, Cas, let's go," Sam said as Dean nudged the smaller man out.

...

"Thanks man," said Dean when a man emerged from his Impala and tossed him the keys before jogging off.

After Sam got settled in the passenger seat, he turned to Dean. "And who was that?"

"Friend of Bobby's."

Castiel looked around the car silently before smiling a little and clicking on his seatbelt. He gazed out the window as Dean started driving, watching the winter scenery roll by. It was the first time he had been off the hospital grounds in seven years. The window felt cold against his head and he tugged his ragged trench coat around his body a little tighter. '

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

"Could you turn up the heat?"

The elder Winchester chuckled. "Sure, buddy."

Castiel closed his eyes and listened to the soft buzz of the radio, frowning when he heard a whining guitar riff and high voices. Was this what other music was like beyond the growling vocals? He didn't like it as much.

But then Dean started singing - horribly off key, even so - and he relaxed again. There was a voice he was familiar with. He would make it as long as Dean never shut up.