Perception

Radiator

"What's Bobby going to say?"

"I don't know," Dean said, shrugging. "It's not like it matters. We can't just leave Cas on the side of the road or something. And, I mean, he's can't go back, especially not when we know he's not entirely human."

The youngest Winchester merely sighed heavily in response and turned back to the slowly rising sun. Dean glanced back at Castiel, whom was sleeping in the backseat, breath making the window fog up. There was no doubt the he would get along fine with Bobby, at least after the inevitable rocky start.

Really, he just wanted to make sure Castiel stayed safe, and happy - or as happy as he could be, what with the schizophrenia eating away at his insides.

...

"Cas, buddy, wake up. We're ho-here."

Sam glanced at Dean, frowning in that distinctly bitchy way he always did when he thought his brother was hiding something, as if someone had just pissed in his rabbit food. Dean shrugged in the typical 'fuck it' manner and continued to shake Castiel awake.

The smaller man groaned and slapped lazily at Dean's hands, as he might have a bothersome fly, because bees were never bothersome, nor should they ever be abused like flies were.

Dean grinned and said, "Cas, we're at Bobby's house. Get up."

Castiel opened his eyes blurrily, focusing them on Dean and smiling contentedly before reaching a hand out for help. The Winchesters raised their respective eyebrows before Dean grasped Castiel's hand and pulled him from the backseat.

Sam knocked on the door while Dean worked on waking Castiel up. The man rubbed his eyes tiredly, fingers brushing over the bags under his eyes absently. The felt smaller than usual. Or maybe that was just his eyes sinking into his skull.

When the door opened, the three men were faced with Bobby, petulant as ever. He glared at the brothers first, before setting his sights on Castiel, who shuffled his feet slightly before smiling nervously, although it didn't reach his eyes. "Where the hell did you pick him up?" Bobby demanded, setting his eyes back on the brothers, but it was less of a glare and more of a tired-of-the-world stare.

"Ahh..." said Sam, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. "Well, a mental hospital."

Bobby stared for a long moment. His eye twitched. Finally, he stepped out of the doorway, mumbled, "Idjits," under his breathe, and swung away to get a beer.

The boys were barely settled into the living room (with Castiel wandering listlessly around, gravitating towards the radiator in the corner) before Bobby came ambling back in, three beers in hand, and started firing off questions.

"Why the hell did you bring him here?"

"We couldn't just leave him there," Dean started to say, but Bobby cut him off.

"Never mind that. What I want to know is - why the hell were you there in the first place?"

"Well," sighed Sam. "We had just dropped a werewolf, but we didn't get out of there in time. Cops got us, questioned us, deemed us crazy enough to be in their best mental ward. And Cas, well..."

"He's not human, Bobby," said Dean earnestly.

The old man's eyebrows peaked in interested. "Then what is he, boy?"

Dean looked to Sam with a touch of desperation in his eyes, like he was begging his brother to know. "I...I don't know," Sam said after a long moment of deliberation. "We've never seen anything like him. I mean - he killed a demon with a single touch!"

"Oh," Bobby murmured. "Does he know?"

Sam shook his head doubtfully. "Probably not. He's schizophrenic. Thought process is a little slowed down, you know? He probably understands that there's something wrong, especially since he just offed a demon with his middle finger, but not to the extent that he understands he's a preternatural being."

"I understand that I am not completely human, Sam," Castiel said from above his head. Sam jumped and turned, squinting up at Castiel.

"Don't do that," he said.

Castiel nodded. "I'm perfectly aware that I have an unusual ability. My thought process is perfectly fine, I just prefer thinking about the simpler things."

"Shots fired!" Dean almost said, but he smothered is smile with a quiet quirk of the lips. Instead, he said, "Any way to figure out what you are, Cas? Any ideas?"

Castiel merely shrugged.

"Sammy?" insisted Dean.

Sam sighed heavily, again. "I have a few ideas."

...

AN - My computer is in a coma. And NaNoWriMo is going on. So updates are gonna be kinda weird. Sorry 'bout that.