Perception

Gabriel, The Punkass Angel

Dean had given his new charge a pair of his clothes, throwing out the ones from the hospital, even though Bobby told him it was better to keep them for when clothes got scarce. Dean's argument had been, "Evidence, Bobby. Evidence." Bobby stopped bitching and just glared with the annoyance of a thousand prissy housewives.

Now, Castiel was curled up on the couch next to Dean, fiddling with his flask and half-heartedly watching Scrubs, smirking when appropriate and frowning when not. Dean wasn't really paying attention to anything but the ceiling and his own thoughts.

"Hey, Cas?" asked Dean, turning his body to face the smaller man. Castiel turned his big eyes on Dean, humming lightly. "Why- um, why were you in the, erm-"

"Mental ward?" Castiel supplied. "Mother dropped me off four years after-"

Castiel went silent as the lights flickered, and the TV went silent. Dean was up with a knife drawn before Castiel could process what was happening. Chairs screeching in the kitchen alerted him to Bobby and Sam's sudden coming-to-life as well.

Castiel remained on the couch as a man appeared. He was short, with slicked-back hair and a cocky smirk on his face. He had a sucker in his mouth, an eyebrow raised amusedly, before his face sobered up and he tossed the sucker behind him. It disappeared before it hit the floor.

"Cassie?" the man said quietly. Castiel remained silent, just staring.

"The Trickster?!" said Sam indignantly, to which Bobby muttered "Balls" and Dean huffed angrily.

The man stepped closer to Castiel. "Little brother...?" he said hesitantly. Castiel's eyes widened in alarm and he scooted back on the couch, falling over the arm and hitting the floor with a thump, before scuttling backwards frantically.

"No, no, no no nonononono!" Castiel shook his head and pressed his back to the wall, feet still scrambling to push him farther back. "My brother's dead! No, no, you're not him! You're not Jimmy!" He put his head in his hands and gripped his hair tightly.

Bobby knew what was happening. He had seen it before, in a man who had watched his exorcise a demon after witnessing his family's brutal murder.

"Dean," said Bobby gruffly, "stop waving your knife at it and calm Cas down. He's going to pass out, at this rate."

After a moment of hesitance, Dean nodded and stepped towards Castiel cautiously, crouching in front of him and resting a hand on his shaking knees. "Cas," he whispered. "Cas, buddy. Come on, calm down."

His head whipped from side to side, incoherent mumblings pouring from his mouth. He looked up, and Dean finally understood just how unstable Castiel was. He saw emotions he couldn't define swirling around in his wet blue eyes. He couldn't handle those emotions until he couldn't bottle them up anymore and let them out in a major depressive episode.

Dean next spoke levely, attempting to make eye contact with Castiel. "Hey, hey Cas. Deep breaths, okay buddy? Deep breaths."

Dean started breathing with the shaking man, showing him how to slow down. Castiel leaned forward, breathing shakily and resting his head against Dean's shoulder. Dean brought his hands up to gently rest on Castiel's trembling back.

The man was still standing in the middle of the living room, a devastated expression marring his face. "Oh, Cassie..."

Sam glared protectively. "How do you know Castiel?" he demanded.

The man sighed heavily. "He's my little brother. My youngest brother. Haven't you ever wondered about his name?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"He's an angel, Dean-o. A bona fide Angel of the Lord."

Dean glared. "Bullshit."

But Sam didn't look quite so skeptical. "It's not so far fetched, Dean. I mean, if there's a Hell, and there's demons, why wouldn't there be angels and Heaven and all that?"

"And it would explain the handprint shit," said Bobby.

"Wait, so if he's an angel, and you're his brother, that makes you-"

The Trickster smirked. "Yep. Gabriel, archangel extraordinaire."

"Oh."

"So much shit is hitting the fan, oh my god."

...

After Castiel's little meltdown, he refused to let Dean go. He was exhausted, and clingy, and decided that Dean was never going to escape his affections.

Dean had told Gabriel to save the explanation for the morning. He didn't have the energy to listen to some punkass angel talk about his so called little brother. Dean would much rather sleep the night away in Bobby's spare bed, and if Castiel clung to his side all night, smiling softly into his neck, then no one had to know.

The flask remained sitting on the coffee table, untouched and unnoticed.