As The Year Goes By

by Jupiter_Inkwell

Summary:

Sam is still seeing Lucifer. Dean has a traumatic brain injury. Cas is ready to break.

(Must read past two stories to understand what is happening in this one)

Chapter 1: December

“It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault.” Cas repeated to himself like a mantra. It had become frustrating to say the least to constantly pick up after his now scatter brained husband.

But it wasn’t Dean’s fault. He had a traumatic brain injury. Tasks that had once come simple to the genius detective were now impossible. He would have to be reminded of the simplest things throughout the day.

“Dean, the stove.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Dean, coat, it’s the middle of winter.”

“Right.”

“Dean, you never ate lunch. It’s still sitting out here on the counter.”

“Sorry.”

Cas couldn’t take it anymore. He felt like he was taking care of two children as a single parent. The man that was supposed to be his husband and partner couldn’t remember to take care of himself, much less a ten month old baby. Cas was terrified of leaving Dean home alone. There was no way he was going to leave Jack with him.

That’s where Cas’s sister Anna came in.

While Cas was still on leave from work Jo came over to check on them and Cas broke down. He was so exhausted. Without another word Jo called Anna and she was on the first flight to Kansas city. Anna then proceeded to chastise Cas for not calling her sooner.

“It’s not your job to fix all of my problems,” Cas grumbled.

“I’m your big sister, it’s my job to try,” She shot back and that was the end of the argument. They turned Cas’s office into a make-shift guest room and Anna helped to take care of Jack and Dean. Dean then claimed that he was a grown man who could take care of himself. All Cas had to do was point to the singed tea towel he left next to the lit stove.

Only then was Cas comfortable enough to go back to work. He didn’t want to admit it but he was a little relieved to be away from home. He knew it wasn’t fair. He loved his husband, but he couldn’t stand to see only part of the man he once was.

“That’s completely natural, darling,” Rowena had assured him on a long winded, guilt ridden, phone call.

“I know, but I still can’t help but feel guilty about it,” Cas sighed.

“It’s okay to want a break, just don’t bury yourself in your work and hide from it all,” Rowena advised.

“Yeah, okay,” Cas whispered.

“Tell me, how is Samuel doing?”

“Hasn’t Gabriel already talked to you? He knows better than I do.”

“He has, yes,” Rowena admitted, “but I want to hear it from you.”

“Oh, right,” Cas took a deep breath and flopped down on his office couch, “He’s not great, Ro, you know I thought that Eileen leaving was going to tear him apart, but…” he fought back the urge to cry, “It’s like he’s not even aware of what’s happening most of the time. And Dean, god, Dean can’t even go and see him without crying for the rest of the night. Then when I go to see Sam by myself he begs me not to hurt him for ten minutes straight before he realizes it’s me and then he doesn’t stay coherent for more than thirty minutes.” A sob caught in Cas’s throat.

“It’s okay, dear. Take deep breaths,” Rowena commanded in a smooth tone.

Cas took shaky breaths trying to keep himself from breaking down.

“Good job.” Rowena commended his crappy breathing, “Okay, it’s most likely the best course of action to not take Dean to see Sam anymore. It’s not good for either of them if all Dean does is break down. As for Sam, Gabriel asked me to come down and be a consultant on his case. I will be there for you when you need me.”

“Ro, I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Then don’t. You have done so much for me, I am only paying it forward. I will see you soon. Go home and get some rest.”

After saying his goodbyes Cas hung up the phone and started packing up his things to go home. Then his phone started buzzing. He pulled it back out of his pocket, thinking it was Dean or Anna, but instead the number was unknown. He really didn’t want to answer, but he couldn’t think of a reason not to, so he accepted the call.

“Hello?”

“Is this Castiel Novak?” a man’s voice asked.

“Who is this?”

“This is special agent Victor Henrikson. I am currently working the case against all of Morningstar’s associates. Some new information recently came to light and I would like to get in to see Sam Winchester. I was told you were the man to talk to about that.”

“Look,” Cas ran a hand through his already mussed hair, “you guys had your chance to talk to him and barely got anything out of him. What makes you think this time will be any different?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important, Dr. Novak, but this is about the safety of others and I think Sam knows something.”

“No, you wouldn’t be asking if the law didn’t require you to. There’s a difference,” Cas shot back, “the last time one of your agents talked to Sam it took three god damn hours to calm him down. I am his guardian and that means doing what is best for him and not anyone else, so I am saying no.”

“Please, it will take less than thirty minutes,” the agent begged.

“No.”

Cas was about to hang up when Henrikson quickly added, “There’s a doctor that he can help us track down. The guy is ten kinds of fucked up. He’s the one that did the so-called care for Sam when he was with Lucifer. This doctor could lead us to so many more people like Sam.”

Cas paused and Henrickson took it as his cue to continue.

“Lilith only knows what he looks like. She told us Sam knows him a bit more intimately.”

“He didn’t…” Cas’s breath caught.

“No, well… I don’t know. Not to Lilith’s knowledge but there seems to be a lot that happened without that so… Anyway, I really don’t want to retraumatize Sam, but this is important, so please—”

“You will have twenty minutes. His doctors and I will be in the room the entire time. Sam, the doctors, or I have the right to end the questioning at any point, understand?”

“Yes, thank you,” the agent let out a sigh of relief.

“You can come to the hospital on Friday afternoon, I will see you then,” Cas hung up and threw his phone on the desk before burying his face in his hands.

“You okay, Cas?” Jo asked from the doorway.

He looked up at her, “I’m fantastic,” he answered sarcastically. “Can’t we just be done with all of this shit?”

“With Lucifer you mean?”

Cas nodded.

“If I could make it magically end for you guys I would, but the FBI is just doing their job. As annoying as they are, and trust me I know, they are still trying to help people who are in situations like Sam,” Jo came all the way into his office and put comforting hands on his shoulders. It was funny that she had her own way of interacting with each person in the precinct. With Dean she would always be sharp and commanding when he was in a mood, sometimes even a slap in the face was effective. With Cas she used a gentler voice and used the same techniques he had trained all of the detectives to use with victims.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the loose cannon that I talk down?” Cas raised an eyebrow.

“Pretty sure that’s your husband,” Jo smirked, “Besides, as of recent history, you are the badass loose cannon.”

Cas knew she was referencing when he shoved Walker’s face into a table and threatened him. It seemed he would never live that down. Which was only fair because he never got in trouble from it, aside from the talking to he received from Captain Harvelle.

“Speaking of,” Jo looked at her watch, “shouldn’t you be going home to said husband, right now?”

“Yeah, I was just about to leave,” Cas motioned to his bag.

“Okay, I will see you tomorrow,” Jo turned to leave, but the looked back and said, “Tell Winchester I miss his stupid face.”

Okay,” Cas chuckled, “will.”

❅❅❅❅❅❅

Dr. Gabriel Oden was many things but a quitter wasn’t one of them. Alas it seemed as though so was Sam Winchester. Their current battle was sleep. Sam was terrified of going to sleep and of course his drug tolerance was astronomical. They gave him as much sedatives as safely possible and Sam seemed to still be winning the war against sleep. Gabriel knew that eventually Sam would just drop from exhaustion, but that was far from a healthy solution

“Sam, can you tell me why you won’t go to sleep?” Gabriel sat down in an open relaxed position next to Sam’s bed, ensuring that he wasn’t seen as threatening.

“He won’t let me sleep,” Sam explained as if it was obvious, “as long as I stay awake he says he won’t be so loud.”

Gabriel sighed. When Sam was first admitted he was having heavy hallucinations, both auditory and visual. He had been worried that Sam was having a schizophrenic episode, but then he started to get sick and they discovered that Sam had been poisoned. It was nothing major after they gave him the antidote, it just took a couple of days for him to recover. The only problem was afterward Sam continued to have hallucinations. They weren’t as bad as they were before but they were still there. Despite Sam trying to hide them, Gabriel would still notice him looking at an empty space as if someone was there talking to him.

“Sam…” Gabriel began carefully, “he was never here to begin with. You understand that right?”

“I know he’s not real, Gabe,” Sam rolled his eyes, “but this is the only way to get him to be a little bit quiet.”

It sort of made sense in a screwed up kind of way. In Sam’s brain as soon as he goes to sleep his hallucinations will get loud, so that is exactly what is going to happen. But the catch 22 is hallucinations are caused by an over production of serotonin and not sleeping causes the brain to make more of the neurotransmitter. The only thing is that sleeping just once won’t solve the problem, Sam would need to get back into a regular sleep schedule before his brain would stop the over production of serotonin. Sam needs proof that sleeping would work right away, otherwise his brain is going to continue making the hallucinations louder.

Gabriel had tried explaining this to Sam and if he were talking to the highly intelligent kid with a law degree then Sam would have understood, but that wasn’t the case. Sam’s brain wasn’t willing to be reasoned with. It was still in fight or flight. Only working off of survival instincts. Right now his survival instincts are telling him to stay awake because he isn’t safe.

“Sleep is a human necessity. You are only going to make yourself sick by doing this,” Gabriel tried again.

“No, no, no, you’re making him mad,” Sam whimpered.

And just like that any hope of having a coherent conversation went out the window. It was at points like this that Gabriel was frustrated enough to want to just pump Sam full of drugs and force him to sleep, but he knew that wasn’t a viable option, or a real solution. Sam had overdosed before his chances of it happening again were greatly increased. For now he could give him some antipsychotics and a limited dose of sedatives and just wait.

❅❅❅❅❅❅

“Is he…” Agent Henrikson cleared his throat, “is he humming stairway to heaven?”

Cas would have found the Agent’s discomfort a little entertaining if Sam didn’t look absolutely petrified. Cas had only agreed to this meeting to help other people but Sam’s health and safety was his number one priority in this situation. Cas had signed to be his temporary legal guardian in Dean’s stead. It had been for Sam’s safety; now everything that happened to Sam had to go through Cas, including this meeting with Henrikson.

“Hey Sam,” Cas gently pried Sam’s hands away from his forearms before he started to draw blood with his finger nails. “Can you tell me what’s on your mind right now?”

Gabriel and Rowena observed carefully but didn’t intervene.

“He doesn’t want me to talk to him,” Sam whispered to Cas.

“How come?” Cas asked, already knowing who ‘he’ was.

“Can’t trust him,” Sam shook his head.

“Hmm,” Cas pondered, “what if I told you I trust him?”

“Then I would say that you’re lying,” Sam responded flatly. Cas winced because he had been lying. He didn’t trust the agent as far as he could throw him.

“Alright kid, you’ve got me,” Cas chuckled, recovering quickly, “I certainly do not trust him.”

“What—” the agent began to argue but Cas ignored him.

“But you trust me don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Sam looked a little offended that Cas had even asked the question.

“So, you know that I wouldn’t allow you to be in an unsafe situation?”

Sam hesitated for a moment before nodding.

“Okay, so let’s ignore him for a moment and think about this. You actually hold most of the power in this situation. Agent Henrickson had to surrender all of his weapons before entering the hospital. You on the other hand have Rowena, Gabriel, and Me defending you as well as your own self defense skills. At any point you no longer feel safe or comfortable. You can say so and we will get rid of Henrikson, but he’s here because he really needs your help so that he can do his job and put the real bad guys behind bars.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded and Cas looked to the agent to begin.

“Alright Sam, I want you to know that you don’t have to answer a question if you don’t feel able to but I want you to try your best,” Henrikson got a little more comfortable as he rearranged the papers in front of him, “can you tell me who treated the majority of your medical ailments while you worked at the glass garden?”

“A doctor Luc hired to make sure I wasn’t dying,” Sam answered before wincing and flicking his eyes to the corner of the room.

“Sam,” Cas rubbed his back gently, “take deep breaths. You’re here right now answering questions for agent Henrikson. Gabriel and Rowena are to the left of you and I am sitting right next to you on your left.”

Sam took in a couple shaky breaths.

Henrikson continued, “do you ever remember getting a name of this doctor?”

“He never told me his name. I don’t think Luc even knew. Everyone just called him Doctor,” Sam said.

The agent looked a little deflated at the answer.

“But I found out anyway,” Sam quickly added. “He always carried around all of the drugs that he needed, but there was one time I needed antibiotics he didn’t have. Of course when I got the prescription bottle the prescribing doctor’s name was crossed out. I didn’t really think much of it until he did something that royally pissed me off so I used the pharmacy’s database to look up the prescription number and find the doctor.”

There was a long silence in the room before anyone said anything.

“Samuel,” Rowena was the first to speak up, “you do realize that a pharmacy’s database contains highly sensitive information that is protected from being seen by the public?”

“Of course I know that,” Sam scoffed, “otherwise I wouldn’t have had to hack into it.”

Sam didn’t realize why everyone was staring at him until it was too late.

“Oh shit,” Sam slapped a hand over his mouth and looked at Henrikson guiltily.

“It’s okay, Sam,” the agent laughed, “I mean the hacking thing isn’t okay and you shouldn’t do it again, but you’re not in trouble for it this time. So what did you find out?”

“Dr. Zachariah Grey.”

All three doctors gaped at Sam.

They all knew exactly who the doctor was. The only people in the room left in the dark about the reactions from the psychologists were Henrickson and Sam.

“You guys recognize the name don’t you?” Sam studied each of their expressions.

“I um…” Gabriel cleared his throat, “I went to school with him.”

“And he was Rowena and my mentor.”

❅❅❅❅❅❅

“I’m going to kill him,” Cas stared down into his glass of wine.

“No you’re not,” Anna said flatly.

“You’re right, death is too good for him. Maybe I’ll do half the shit he did to Sam and see how he feels,” Cas downed the rest of his glass and reached for the bottle to refill but Anna pulled it away.

“Castiel, doing this to yourself isn’t going to help anyone,” There was a hint of warning in his older sister’s voice.

“Right, right, I’m sorry,” Cas put his head in his hands.

“You don’t need to be sorry, just let me help you keep your head above water,” Anna said softly.

“Yeah okay,” Cas whispered. “How was everything today?”

“Fine, Dean made lunch without burning the house down and only had a small moment of obsessing over the Impala before giving up and watching TV with Jack.”

“He’s never not going to obsess about that car. He is literally counting the days until he can drive it again,” Cas laughed dryly.

“You know he’s still pissed at you for taking the keys from him,” Anna said.

“Yeah,” Cas scoffed, “I know, but he will thank me later when his car isn’t wrapped around a telephone pole.”

“The city of Kansas thanks you for your commitment to public road safety,” Anna saluted him.

“It’s an honor and a privilege,” Cas rolled his eyes and stood up, “I’m going to check on Jack and go to bed.”

After taking care of his glass Cas went upstairs and tip toed into the nursery, ensuring the infant was still asleep. Sure enough Jack was curled up fast asleep in a fleece onesie covered in little bees. Cas had to admit it was one of his favorites. Dean had picked it out at the store while being just as useless as he always was when they went grocery shopping. Cas wouldn’t have it any other way.

Cas placed a soft kiss on his son’s forehead before padding across the hall into the master bedroom.

He frowned when he saw Dean sitting criss cross on the bed with his face only inches away from the laptop screen.

“Dean,” he walked over and closed the screen, “you know you are not supposed to be doing that.”

“Such a stickler for the rules,” Dean huffed as he set the computer aside.

“No, I am a stickler for the health of your brain,” Cas shot back.

“Have you heard anything about the case Jo is working? It’s a B and E on 54th,” Dean changed the subject.

“How do you know anything about the case Jo is working?” Cas questioned.

“I still have access to the precinct database,” Dean pointed out as if that was obvious.

“Except you shouldn’t because you aren’t supposed to be using computer screens,” Cas crossed his arms, not appreciating the attitude he was receiving from his husband.

"And I am a stickler for doing my job, which includes looking into cases that might need my attention. Besides, it’s not like I’m staring at the screen all day. I just checked in."

Cas sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Dean, we talked about this. Your doctors were very clear. You need to limit screen time."

"It’s boring, Cas! You’re at work, Anna’s taking care of Jack, I’m stuck here doing… nothing," Dean threw his hands up in exasperation. "I’m a detective, not a house husband in recovery."

"You are a husband in recovery who needs to heal," Cas countered, his voice softening slightly. He sat on the edge of the bed and gently took Dean’s hand. "Look, I know it’s frustrating. Believe me, I see it. But this is for your own good. We want you to get back to being yourself, and that means following the doctor’s orders."

Dean looked away, his jaw tight. "I just… I feel useless. Like I’m just a burden."

"You are not a burden, Dean," Cas said firmly, cupping Dean’s cheek. "You’re my husband, and Jack’s father. You’re brave, and strong, and you’re fighting through something incredibly difficult. And we’re fighting with you."

Dean leaned into the touch, a flicker of emotion in his eyes. "I just want to be able to do my job again. To protect people."

"And you will, honey. Just not right now. Right now, your job is to heal. And our job is to help you do that," Cas said, pulling Dean into a hug.

Dean finally relaxed, sighing into Cas’s shoulder. "Okay. Okay, I get it. No more unauthorized computer time."

Cas chuckled, pressing a kiss to Dean’s hair. "Good. Now, how about we actually go to bed? It’s been a long day."

Dean pulled back, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "You know, that sounds like a much better use of our time."

Cas rolled his eyes playfully, but a smile touched his own lips as he turned off the bedside lamp.

Chapter 2: January

“Happy new year,” were the first words out of Eileen’s mouth.

Not, “hi Sam how are you?”

Not, “sorry for leaving and not saying a word to you for almost three months.”

Sam had been hurt that Eileen had just up and left without a word. He didn’t blame her for not sticking around. She had a job waiting for her in Sioux Falls after all; a phone call would have been nice though, or at least show up and say that they were done. Instead Sam got nothing.

“You don’t need her anyway, Sammy.” Luc shrugged, “It’s not like she actually loved you. Not like I do. She just pitied you.”

Sam ignored him.

“How’s the new job?” Sam asked when Eileen sat across from him.

“It’s really good,” Eileen gave him a weak smile.

“Great, good… that’s um really good. I’m happy for you,” Sam shifted uncomfortably, already wanting the visit to be over.

“Sam I…”

“No, it’s fine.” he cut Eileen off, “you don’t owe me an explanation I get it.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Of course she owes you an explanation,” Luc scoffed, “even I'm not that cruel.”

Sam kept his gaze trained on Eileen.

“I know that I hurt you and—”

“I’m honestly over it, Eileen,” Sam brushed her off.

“You…” She gaped at him, “you can’t actually mean that.”

“Of course I can. That’s what you want right?” Sam asked, already knowing the answer, “you felt guilty so you came to see me to clear your conscience. It’s fine, no need to worry about it. I’m fine.”

“Sam no, that’s not why I’m here,” Eileen protested.

“Then what?” Sam clenched his jaw, “what could you possibly want from me?”

The orderly supervising the visit tensed at Sam’s tone.

“I needed to talk to you about something. I made a decision without talking to you first and I…it’s haunting me. I just wanted to tell you…” Elieen trailed off.

“If she’s not testing your patience she is definitely testing mine,” Luc groaned.

“Spit it out, Eileen,” Sam snapped.

The orderly gave him a warning look and Sam relaxed back into his seat, showing that he was calm.

“I had an abortion,” Eileen squeaked.

“What?” Sam was certain he hadn’t heard her right.

“I was pregnant and I had an abortion without talking to you,” she avoided his gaze.

“Fuck Eileen,” Sam scrubbed a hand over his face, “is that the only reason you came here?”

“I just…”

“Jesus Christ, I absolve you of your guilt,” Sam laughed dryly, “did you really think I would be mad about that?”

“I thought maybe you would care. That you would want to be part of the decision,” Eileen looked as if she was about to cry.

“And how do you think the outcome would have been different if I had known? In what universe would I have been fit to be a father?” Sam ranted, “look where I am for fuck sake!” he made a sharp gesture to the white walls and sparsely furnished room, “I’m sorry you feel guilty, but there is no point in it because I simply do not care.”

“Sam…” a sob caught in Eileen's throat.

“Goodbye, Eileen,” Sam stood up and walked away.

“Sam, wait!” She called after him but it was too late. The orderly was already leading him back through the ward.

❅❅❅❅❅❅

Eileen was full on sobbing by the time she was leaving the hospital. Unfortunately someone had noticed and grabbed her arm on her way out.

“Eileen,” Gabriel got her to look up at him, “what’s wrong?”

“No—nothing, everything is fine,” she fumbled over her words as she brushed past the doctor, making a b-line for the parking lot. Luckily he didn’t follow after her.

Eileen cursed the day she met Sam fucking Winchester.

❅❅❅❅❅❅

A rotten feeling sunk into Gabriel’s gut as Eileen pulled away from him and practically ran. He wanted to go after her, but if she was like that after seeing Sam he had a bad feeling about how Sam was going to be.

Gabriel rushed up the stairs, not even bothering with the elevator, swiped his key card, and strode into Sam’s room.

Sam sat on the edge of his bed, hands placed gently in his lap, as he stared at the blank wall in front of him.

“How many minutes since you brought him back into his room,” Gabriel questioned the orderly.

“About five,” He answered.

“Okay, I can work with that,” Gabriel approached Sam tentatively, “Sam, can you look at me?”

Sam continues to stare at the wall.

“Hey, no. We're not doing that. I need you to stay here with me. Don’t go hide inside your brain,” Gabriel’s voice was soothing but firm.

Sam still didn’t answer but he blinked a couple times, confirming that he could hear Gabe.

“Remember that hiding doesn’t solve our problems. Don’t listen to what your brain is telling you.”

Tears began to well up in Sam’s eyes.

“Hey, look at me.”

He looked at Gabe as the first tear slid down his cheek.

“It’s going to be okay.”

Sam shook his head.

“Yes it is. You’re okay,” Gabriel grabbed both of his hands and squeezed.

“No!” Sam cried, “don’t— don’t make me do this anymore. I’m not worth the trouble.”

“Every human life is worth the trouble,” Gabriel said sternly.

“But I’m not worth a human life,” Sam shook his head, “you’re better off just letting me die.” He pulled his hands away from Gabriel and began digging his nails into his forearm. Gabriel tore his hand away but he had already begun to draw blood.

“Sam, stop,” Gabriel ordered.

Sam fought against him and tried to tear at his skin again.

“God damnit, Sam! Stop it,” Gabriel held Sam in a restraint, forcing his hands to remain at his sides. "you’re going to hurt yourself, Sam," Gabriel was trying to talk to him as calmly as possible but Sam was no longer coherent.

"No, no, no," Sam started to thrash, "let me go. You’re going to hurt me."

"Sam, I need you to calm down," Gabriel pleaded. "You’re safe here."

"I’m not safe. He’s going to hurt me again. Let me go!" Sam cried, his voice hoarse.

The orderly stepped forward, a look of concern on his face. "Dr. Oden, should I call for assistance?"

Gabriel hesitated, his gaze fixed on Sam. He didn’t want to resort to physical restraints if he didn’t have to. "Not yet. Sam, listen to my voice. Focus on my voice. You are in a hospital. I am Gabriel. You are safe."

Sam continued to struggle, his eyes wide with terror. "No! Get away from me!"

With a heavy sigh, Gabriel made a decision. "Alright, call for assistance. And get the sedative ready."

The orderly nodded, quickly leaving the room to make the call. Gabriel tightened his grip on Sam’s wrists, doing his best to prevent him from causing further harm to himself.

"Sam, please. I don’t want to do this, but I need to keep you safe," Gabriel said, his voice laced with regret.

Just as the orderly returned with another nurse and a syringe, Sam’s struggles began to wane. His eyes lost some of their frenzied look, and his breathing became less ragged.

"Gabe?" Sam whimpered, his voice barely audible.

Gabriel immediately loosened his grip, though he kept his hands on Sam’s arms. "Yes, Sam. I’m here. Are you with me?"

Sam nodded slowly, tears still streaming down his face. "I… I think so."

"Good," Gabriel said, relief flooding through him. He waved off the orderly and the nurse. "It’s alright, I think we’re good for now."

They exchanged a glance, clearly hesitant, but ultimately complied, leaving the room.

Gabriel gently guided Sam back until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He pulled up a chair and sat in front of him, keeping eye contact.

"What happened, Sam?" Gabriel asked softly.

Sam shook his head, burying his face in his hands. "She… she said she had an abortion. And then… he just got so loud. Telling me it was my fault. That I couldn’t even be a father."

"Eileen told you she had an abortion?" Gabriel repeated, his brows furrowed. "And Lucifer… he amplified that?"

Sam nodded, his voice muffled by his hands. "He always does. He tells me I’m worthless. That I’m a monster."

Gabriel sighed, pulling Sam’s hands away from his face. "Listen to me, Sam. You are not worthless. You are not a monster. What Eileen did, that was her decision, and it has absolutely nothing to do with your worth as a person, or your ability to be a father. Do you understand?"

Sam looked up, his eyes bloodshot. "But… what if he’s right? What if I really am broken?"

"You are not broken, Sam," Gabriel said firmly, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder. "You are healing. And sometimes, healing is messy and painful. But you are strong, and you are fighting. And we are here to fight with you."

Sam leaned into Gabriel’s touch, taking a shaky breath. "It just… it hurts so much, Gabe."

"I know it does, Sam. And it’s okay to hurt," Gabriel said, pulling Sam into a gentle hug. "Just don’t give up. Not on yourself, and not on us."

Sam clung to him, finally letting out the sobs he had been holding back. Gabriel held him, letting him cry until the storm passed. When Sam finally pulled away, his eyes were still red, but a little of the terror had faded.

"I’m tired, Gabe," Sam whispered.

"I know," Gabriel said, helping him lie back on the bed. "Just try to rest. I’ll be right here."

He pulled a blanket up over Sam and sat by his side, ready to stay as long as needed.

❅❅❅❅❅❅

“So what’s your flavor of crazy,” A man plopped himself down right next to sam on the couch in the rec room.

Sam looked up from his book to see an attractive man around his age. He had short brown hair and a wild look in his eye. Sam didn’t even have to ask his flavor of crazy because the result sat right in the crook of both arms. Track marks and blown out veins.

“You’re new,” Sam hummed.

“Indeed, I am, mister detective,” the man smirked. “Tyson Brady. My friends call me Brady,” he extended his hand to Sam who only glanced at it and then returned to his book.

“Okay…” Brady studied Sam before trying a new angle, “are you one of those silent types who is really a genius and can kill you with your own neck tie.”

That got a half laugh out of Sam.

“Gonna make me keep guessing?” Brady looked at Sam with intrigue, “okay, you’re part of the russian mafia and took an insanity plea to get out of prison.”

“If that was the case then I wouldn’t be in a minimum security mental ward at a county hospital,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Okay, so not a violent criminal,” Brady scratched his chin, “You were in love with a woman who your father forbid you to see so he locked you up in here to keep you from her. But that doesn’t stop your star crossed lover. No, she sneaks in here at night for a secret rendezvous.”

“Two things,” Sam said, not looking up from his book, “Dad’s dead and I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Alright then, scrap that,” Brady sighed but still not giving up, “you’re a tortured poet whose wife died so tragically young that he just could take it anymore.” He laid dramatically across the couch and put the back of his hand against his forehead.

“Does anyone tell you that you watch too much TV?”

“Constatnly,” Brady frowned, “but it’s my one pleasure in life and they can’t take it away from me.”

“Okay, I will answer one question if you do the same for me,” Sam set down his book on the end table and looked at Brady who perked up.

“Alright book boy, fire away.”

“Was the psychosis a result of the drug use or was the drug use the result of the psychosis?”

“Geez, you really know how to hit him where it hurts,” Brady placed a hand over his heart, feigning offence, “alright, fair enough. I tried to cure my depression with drugs and when that didn’t work I deliberately took too much.” He actually looked ashamed when he was done talking.

“Hmm, in my experience drugs only numb the symptoms not solve the problem,” Sam shrugged, “okay, your turn. Ask you question, TV boy”

“Okay, judging by the scars that cover your arms you’ve self harmed and tried to take your own life, but here’s what’s bugging me. The scars are old. Like more than a year old, some even older, so it wasn’t your depression that got you in here this time. My question is: what changed?”

“That is an unfairly broad question,” Sam frowned.

“You never gave me any stipulations,” Brady smirked like he had just won the game.

“Fine. I sometimes see hallucinations of my abuser even though he died at my own hand.” Sam picked up his book and started reading again.

“Cool, you said you didn’t have a girlfriend, right?” Brady asked, blowing past what Sam had just revealed.

“Right,” Sam answered tentatively.

“You want to come back to my room?”

“What the hell,” Sam threw the book aside, “why not.”

❅❅❅❅❅❅

There was zero foreplay. As soon as they made sure no one was paying attention, Brady pushed Sam down onto the bed and straddled him.

Sam groaned as Brady began to pull at his hair, tilting his head back to expose his throat. He felt him press his lips into the vulnerable areas around his neck. He paused just below the jawline and sucked, surely leaving a mark. Sam moaned, which only fueled Brady. He pulled at Sam’s shirt, quickly tearing it off over his head then following suit with his own.

Sam rolled his hips upward, rubbing his own erection into Brady’s. A soft gasp escaped his lips as Brady pinned his hips to the bed.

Beginning at his throat, Brady kissed Sam all the way down his body landing at the waist band of his pants. He hooked his thumbs underneath it and slid them down as Sam obediently lifted his hips.

“Fuck, you’re so beautifull,” Brady admired Sam’s achingly hard member.

Brady continued his kisses down Sam’s thighs but never touching where Sam truly wanted. He was teasing him.

Then he looked back up at Sam with an obscenely evil look in his eyes before diving back down and taking all of him in his mouth at one.

“Fuck!” Sam moaned. Brady reached a hand up and pressed it against his mouth, signaling him to stay quiet.

His other hand went to his own dick and began stroking himself. He kept stroking himself, getting faster and faster, his breath coming in short, harsh gasps. Sam could feel the pressure building in his own body, a delicious, agonizing tension. He bucked his hips, desperate for release. Brady pulled back, his eyes dark with desire.

"You like that?" he murmured, his voice husky.

Sam could only whimper in response, his hips still thrusting involuntarily.

Brady chuckled, a low, guttural sound that sent a shiver down Sam’s spine. "Good. Because I'm just getting started."

He leaned down and started sucking on Sam’s cock again, even harder this time, his tongue swirling around the tip, then sliding down the shaft. Sam cried out, his legs shaking uncontrollably. He reached out, blindly searching for something to grab onto, and his hands found Brady’s hair, clutching it tightly.

Brady’s hand went back to his own erection, mirroring Sam’s rhythm. The combination of the intense sensation in his mouth and the mirroring strokes was almost too much to bear. Sam was on the verge, his vision blurring.

Just as he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, Brady pulled away, leaving Sam gasping for air.

"No… please…" Sam pleaded, his voice hoarse.

Brady grinned, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Patience, All good things come to those who wait."

He moved up Sam’s body, kissing his stomach, his chest, then finally his lips. The kiss was deep and hungry, tasting of sex and desperation. Sam responded eagerly, his hands still tangled in Brady’s hair.

Brady finally shifted, straddling Sam again, but this time he was pressing something hard against Sam’s asshole. Sam gasped, his eyes widening.

"Relax," Brady whispered against his lips, "I’ll be gentle."

He pushed down slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until Sam felt a sharp, stretching pain. He cried out, but Brady pressed a kiss to his lips, muffling the sound.

"Breathe, Just breathe."

Sam forced himself to take a shaky breath, trying to relax his muscles. Brady pushed again, and this time, the pain was less, replaced by a dull ache and then a thrilling fullness.

Brady let out a groan as he finally slid all the way in. He paused, letting Sam adjust, before beginning to move slowly, deliberately. Sam gasped, his body arching up to meet each thrust.

The rhythm built, slow and steady at first, then faster, harder, more desperate. Sam clung to Brady, his nails digging into his back, his head thrown back as he cried out with each powerful thrust. The hallucinations were gone, replaced by the overwhelming sensations of Brady’s body against his. This was real. This was now.

"Oh god, Brady…" Sam whimpered, his voice barely audible.

Brady responded with a deep thrust, and Sam felt himself shatter, a wave of intense pleasure washing over him. He cried out, his body convulsing as he came, his own semen spurting onto his stomach. Brady grunted, a moment later, shuddering above him as he pumped one last time before collapsing onto Sam’s chest.

They lay there for a long moment, breathing heavily, their bodies slick with sweat. Sam was still shaking, but it was a good shake, a release.

Brady eventually rolled off him, pulling him close, wrapping an arm around his waist. Sam nestled into his side, feeling surprisingly content.

"That was… something," Brady murmured, his voice rough.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I know I should have asked this earlier but uh what’s your name?”

Sam looked at Brady and laughed, “It’s Sam.”

“Well then Sam, I have a feeling that we are going to be good friends.”

Chapter 3: February

Dr. Zachariah Grey had dropped off the map. He never stayed in one place long enough for police to catch up with him. Henrikson had a plan though.

That didn’t stop Cas from being absolutely pissed. He had once trusted this man. He looked up to him and that’s exactly what Henrikson was going to use to his advantage.

The plan was for Cas to call Zachariah asking for help with Sam, claiming that he wasn’t satisfied with the job that Gabriel was doing. All the while ensuring that Zachariah never picked up on the fact they knew anything about the doctor already knowing who Sam was.

To drive the point home further Rowena also would speak to Zachariah, agreeing with Cas’s assessment about the need for a second opinion.

It was the hope that Zachariah’s hubris, and need to out shine a colleague, would trump any feelings of unease about the situation.

But that wasn’t going to be the hardest part.

The hardest part was he was going to have to be in a room alone with Sam.

That was the part of the plan that all three psychologists objected to. Surprisingly, Sam was okay with it, but he wasn’t the one that had final say. Castiel was.

Henrickson tried to assure him that it would be completely safe. They would all be in the next room watching from cameras and Sam would be wearing a wire.

They needed to get a confession out of Zacharia otherwise they had no legal evidence against him.

"Absolutely not!" Cas slammed his fist on the table, making the coffee cups jump. "He is not going into a room alone with that man."

"Castiel, we’ve been over this," Henrikson sighed, rubbing his temples. "It’s the only way to get a confession. Otherwise, all the evidence is circumstantial."

"Circumstantial? I don’t think you understand the full extent of what he did to Sam; what he allowed to happen," Cas’s voice rose with each accusation.

"We need him to admit it on tape, Dr. Novak," Henrikson stated, his voice tight with frustration. "Sam’s testimony alone, given his mental state, isn’t enough. It’ll just get thrown out."

Rowena placed a calming hand on Cas’s arm. "He’s right, darling. Legally, it’s a tightrope walk."

"But to put Sam through that again?" Gabriel interjected, his own face grim. "It’s risking everything we’ve worked for."

"Sam agreed to it," Henrikson pressed, looking directly at Cas. "He said he wants to help."

Cas looked away, the memory of Sam’s quiet, resolute nod heavy in his mind. "He doesn’t understand the full implications. He doesn’t remember everything."

"He remembers enough," Henrikson countered. "And he’s lucid enough to make his own decisions, especially with his legal guardian’s consent." He stressed the last part, reminding Cas of his position.

Cas clenched his jaw. "And I’m telling you, as his guardian, I don’t consent."

"Cas, think about what this means for other victims," Rowena urged gently. "If we can get Zachariah, we can potentially save so many more people from what Sam endured."

Cas closed his eyes, a war raging within him. He wanted justice for Sam, fiercely and completely. But at what cost? He imagined Sam, terrified and alone, facing the man who had done unspeakable things to him. His stomach churned.

"We will be watching every second," Henrikson continued, sensing a shift in Cas’s resolve. "The room will be wired, and we’ll have a team ready to go in at the slightest sign of distress. And Sam will have a panic button, disguised as a pen. He presses it, and we storm the room."

Cas opened his eyes, staring at the agent. "And if something goes wrong before he can press it?"

"It won’t," Henrikson promised, though the assurance sounded hollow even to him. "We’ll be listening to every word, monitoring his vitals. We won’t let anything happen to him."

Cas looked at Gabriel, then Rowena. Their expressions were a mix of apprehension and reluctant agreement. They understood the stakes, the difficult choice.

He took a deep breath, the bitter taste of defeat on his tongue. "Alright," he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. "But if anything, anything at all, goes wrong, I swear to God, Henrikson, I will personally see to it that your career is ruined."

Henrikson simply nodded, a flicker of relief in his eyes. "Understood, Dr. Novak. We’ll set it up for next week. You’ll be briefed on all the details."

❅❅❅❅❅❅

Preparing to see Zacharia again was one thing but actually seeing him was another. Cas did as he was told and emailed Dr. Grey requesting his assistance with Sam. Now he was standing with Rowena greeting Zacharia at the hospital doors.

Rowena kept a calm face but Cas could tell she was tense. He didn’t blame her. It took everything in him not to just kill Zacharia right then and there.

“Castiel, Rowena, it is good to see you two again,” Zacharia’s smile was that same as it had always been but suddenly it sent chills down Cas’s spine.

“Dr. Grey, am I glad you could come,” Cas said through his forced smile.

“Yes, It’s been a while hasn’t it? Castiel, I heard you got married,” Zacharia said.

“I did. It will be five years in June,” Cas nodded, “it’s actually my brother in law who I emailed you about,”

“We have found that Dr. Oden isn’t helping Samuel as much as we had hoped,” Rowena chimed in.

“Well, Dr. Oden is what we call unconventional. I’ve never really approved of his methods. I am glad you reached out,”

Gabriel had been right, Zacharia was so full of himself. Cas wasn’t sure how he survived all of his residency with the man.

Cas led the way up to the mental ward while Rowena recited the briefing on Sam that they had come up with perfectly. Cas was mostly quiet because he was afraid he might lose his shit if he talked to Zacharia more than he had to.

When Zacharia confidently stepped out of the elevator in front of them, Rowena paused and squeezed Cas’s hand. He gave her a weak smile before following Zacharia.

If Zacharia found it suspicious that they were meeting Sam in a conference room he didn’t say anything. It was the best place to monitor the situation and control the environment. Agent Henrickson was monitoring the cameras from Gabriel’s office along with his team. That’s where Rowena, Cas, and Gabriel would go when Zacharia requested to be alone with Sam.

Sam looked terrified when they entered the room. He was practically glued to Gabriel’s side. Which may actually have been a good thing. Zacharia always preached staying detached from a patient and if Cas was selling that he didn’t like Gabriel then using that as a point wouldn’t be hard.

Cas ensured that Gabriel knew that he respected him and appreciated what he did for Sam. Everything he was going to say was for the benefit of selling the story.

“Sam, this is Dr. Grey,” Cas gestured to Zacharia, “He wants to talk with you.”

Sam had agreed to do this but now he looked like he was regretting it. Gabriel leaned over and whispered something to Sam and he nodded.

“Dr. Oden,” Zacharia looked at Gabriel with disdain, “It’s good to see you again,”

“Yeah, I’m sure it is,” Gabriel murmured.

Sam looked on the edge of dissociation when Zacharia requested everyone leave him and Sam alone. He was currently staring at the corner of the room and Cas had a good guess for what he was looking at.

“He can’t hurt you, take deep breaths, Sam,” Cas whispered quietly.

“He can’t hurt me,” Sam took a deep breath.

❅❅❅❅❅❅

“This ought to be interesting,” Lucifer chuckled as he spun around in one the conference room chairs. “What do you think he will do when the good ole doctor figures out the plan?”

“It’s been a while Sam,” the doctor sat across from Sam.

Sam ignored him and continued looking at Lucifer. He knew he wasn’t real, but that is exactly why he was looking at him. Lucifer isn’t real, he can't hurt Sam. The doctor was very real and could very much hurt Sam.

“Well, I got to say that I am not surprised,” the doctor continued, “I mean, Lucifer practically turned you into a case study. So tell me, do you still think about hurting yourself?”

Sam didn’t answer.

“Do you still think about how worthless you are? That your family just dumped you here just like they did last time?” the doctor leaned forward.

“Please stop,” Sam breathed.

“The only reason you aren’t in prison for murder is because of how bat shit insane you are,” the doctor ignored Sam’s plea.

“How do you know about that?” Sam finally looked at the doctor and that’s when he realized he lost. The doctor let a slow smile spread across his face.

“I know everything about you Sam,” he chuckled.

“Why did you do it?” Sam asked, remembering what he was there to do.

“Do what?”

“Work for him,”

“He paid well and I got to meet interesting characters like you. I would be a revolutionist in the field of psychology if I wrote a book on the kind of thing I saw while working for Lucifer,”

And there it was. The doctor just admitted to working for Lucifer, but Sam had to keep him talking. The more details the better.

“You’re a clever one aren’t you, Sammy?” Lucifer smiled, “play into his ego,”

“What makes you think I’m not going to rat you out as soon as you leave the room? I know who you are now,”

“Becuase you are clinically insane. No one would believe you. Besides, you would have done it already if you were going to do it. I know about your cute little data breach. You’ve known my name for a long time and haven't done a thing,” the doctor said confidently.

“Oo, he’s got you there,” Lucifer laughed, “you’re not as sneaky as you think you are,”

“You’re right,” Sam sighed. “I knew I would never have a chance. You are a respected psychologist. No one would believe me,”

“There it is. Stroke that ego,” Lucifer said.

“You know,” the doctor began, “I’ll bet I can get Castiel to turn your care over to me full time and I can get started on that revolutionary paper,”

“Yeah you could but wouldn’t you have to admit to the things you did to me?” Sam prompted.

“Oh please,” he scoffed, “all I did was insure that you stayed alive so that Lucifer could continue to use you as his fuck toy,”

“Ouch,” Lucifer winced, “Sammy, this guy doesn’t know what he is talking about,”

“You forced a tube down my throat,” Sam’s voice wavered.

“Becuase you wouldn’t eat,” The doctor responded plainly.

“You have stitched me up after I was abused only to let it happen again,” Sam was holding back tears.

“Don’t forget about when he raped you,” Lucifer added.

“What?” Sam stared at him.

“Are you currently having a hallucination, Sam?” the doctor asked.

“Ask him,” Lucifer prompted.

“D–did you–” Sam cleared his throat, “rape me?”

❅❅❅❅❅❅

“Fuck, where did that come from?” Henrickson was staring at Cas.

“I-I don’t know. He’s never mentioned…”

“You got what you need, now get Sam out of there,” Gabriel stepped up.

“The prosecution will have a better time if Sam gets Zacharia to admit specifics,” One of the other agents spoke up.

“He fucking raped my little brother, I am not letting him stay in the room with him a moment longer!” Cas yanked open the office door and started down the hall.

“Dr. Novak!” Agent Henrickson yelled after him but he ignored him, “shit,”

Cas stormed into the conference room, “Get away from him,”

“Castiel?” Zacharia shot up, thoroughly confused.

Henrickson rushed in the room after him and Zacharia seemed to understand what was happening.

“When I get out of this and I will get out of this,” Zacharia hissed at Sam, “You are going to regret ever opening your whore mouth,”

“Zacharia Grey, you are under arrest for malpractice and assault," Henrickson handcuffed him. Zacharia willingly went but he didn’t look at anyone else but Sam.

Sam was staring at the wall in full dissociation. Cas didn’t care, he went over and wrapped his arms around Sam.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

Chapter 4: March

Sam hadn’t done anything for the past week aside from what he was forced to do. Brady even tried to get him to interact with him but his efforts were pointless. Lucifer was always in the room with him. There were no breaks or relief. Sam simply laid in bed and allowed his hallucination to taunt him.

Sam stopped eating as well. Not that he was eating up to the standard that was expected of him before, but at least he was still getting nutrients. Now Sam just flat out refused to eat. Maybe they would force feed him like the doctor did.

He knew that Cas came in every day and tried to get some type of response out of him. After a week of waiting for Sam to hold his part of the conversation Cas gave up and just started talking for the both of them.

One morning or maybe it was afternoon… Sam woke up in a different room. He was no longer in the room he had grown accustomed to in the past few months. He was pretty sure he wasn’t in the mental ward anymore. He was in a regular hospital room. There was an IV in his arm and a feed tube in his stomach. Lucifer was still talking his head off, so at least Sam could count on one constant.

“Sammy?”

A familiar voice filled Sam’s ears.

“Hey kiddo,” Dean grabbed his hand as he moved into his field of vision.

Sam wanted to cry out and wrap his arms around Dean. He wanted to tell him how much he missed him. That he just wanted to go home, but he couldn’t. He just laid there and looked up at Dean. He tried to show him he was aware that Dean was there.

“Gabe thought that seeing me might help you, um…” Dean sighed, looking away for a moment, “I’m not sure what’s going on in that head of yours, but I need you to snap out of it, okay? This—this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. We took down the bad guy so we are supposed to celebrate. You’re supposed to get better.”

I’m sorry Dean Sam thought I’m sorry I’m such a burden. You should just let me die

“Look Sam, I know that I haven’t been around a lot, and I am sorry. Maybe you wouldn’t be this bad if I wasn’t such a fucking mess,” Dean gave a self deprecating laugh, “you know it’s times like these that I wish Bobby was still around. He always knew what to do.”

Sam missed Bobby too. He wished that their adoptive father was still alive. Hell, he wished that Jess was still alive.

“What about me, Sammy, do you wish I was still alive?” Lucifer asked, “I mean, you are the one that murdered me in cold blood,”

“...anyway I know it sounds really scary but Cas says that it’s not like it is on TV and that it actually has helped a lot of people,” Dean was talking but Sam had missed half of what he had said.

what sounded really scary? What was he talking about? Sam wished in that moment that he could get his body to respond to ask Dean what he was talking about.

“Don’t worry about it. You never really had bodily autonomy in the first place,” Lucifer hummed as he ran his fingers through Sam’s hair. He knew that he wasn’t really there. That Lucifer wasn’t really touching him, but the sensation felt so real.

“Sammy, I have to go now but I will be back before they put you under, okay?” Dean squeezed Sam’s hand before letting go.

Sam wanted to reach out and grab him. what are they going to put me under for? but once again his dumb body didn’t respond.

☂☂☂☂☂

It had been at least a week since Cas had an actual good night’s sleep, but looking at his reflection he looked like it had been a year. He had let his stubble become overgrown into a half assed beard and his eyes had deep purple bags under them. Anna had threatened to drug him if he didn’t get some sleep.

“Cas, I know that you are stressed about Sam but you are useless to him if you don’t take care of yourself,”

He didn’t want to admit it but his older sister had a point. The Winchester-Novak household was already down a man they didn’t need to be down another. On the bright side though Dean was doing way better, but that also meant that he started obsessing about Sam again. Cas had felt guilty about not telling Dean anything about what was going on with Sam, but he knew in his fragile state his husband couldn’t handle it.

Now that Dean was asking, Cas would have to take him to see his catatonic brother. Cas knew it was his fault that Sam was like this. He should have never signed off on allowing Zacharia to be in the same room with him let alone let him be alone with him.

Now that Rowena and Gabriel were talking about ECT there was no way that Cas could keep Dean out of the loop. Cas was hesitant about the procedure at first but as time went on and Sam didn’t get any better, he became convinced that this was their best option. They had to give Sam a feeding tube and IV fluids because he wouldn’t eat or drink anything. Hell, he wouldn’t even get up to go to the bathroom. Cas had never seen him so bad.

One night when Cas thought that Dean was asleep he had just started to cry and couldn’t stop. Then he felt Dean’s arms around him and pulled him into his chest.

“Dean, I’m so sorry, I am fucking this all up,” Cas cried.

“No, you’re not,” Dean whispered.

“Your brother is sick and it’s my fault,” Cas countered.

“No, if there is a list of people that we can blame for Sam's condition you wouldn’t be even in the top 100. You have done nothing but love and take care of him as if he were your own blood. It’s one of the reasons I love you so much,”

“God,” He scoffed, “I should be the one comforting you,”

“Shut up and let me do this,” Dean commanded but not unlovingly.

“Are you going to remember this in the morning?” Cas asked.

“I don’t know,” Dean sighed, “do you want me to?”

“I don’t know,”

☂☂☂☂☂

Cas, Gabriel and Rowena had explained the ECT procedure to Dean about a hundred times but he was still full of anxious questions.

“Is it going to hurt him?”

“He will be under anesthesia during so he won’t feel a thing and then afterwards he might have a headache or feel sore but it shouldn’t be more than some mild discomfort,” Rowena explained.

“And this kind of thing has actually worked before?”

“Yes, this is something that has been tested extensively and has yielded very positive results,” Cas answered.

“But what if—”

“Dean, I swear to you that Sam will be just fine,” Gabriel cut him off.

Dean opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it. He looked back into Sam’s hospital room where his brother was lying limply in the bed. Sam hadn’t even been aware enough to adjust his position laying down. A nurse had to come in and turn him to avoid bed sores. It made Dean want to cry, but he promised himself that he wouldn't be emotional. If he showed that he couldn’t handle being around Sam then Cas would stop taking him again and he didn’t want to lose that.

Dean knew how exhausted Cas was. He was working, taking care of Jack, and Sam. Dean didn’t want to add onto his load. He tried his best not to be a pain in the ass. Especially after the night he woke up to Cas crying. He hadn’t realized just how stressed his husband was until then. He knew Sam couldn’t help it but part of Dean’s brain blamed him for Cas’s breakdown. Of course Dean knew he shared in that blame though. He hadn’t been exactly easy to deal with as of late.

So now Dean was doing his absolute best not to stress Cas out more. He would catch Jack crying before it could even wake Cas up. He started writing himself sticky notes so he wouldn’t forget about the task he was currently performing. Dean did exactly as his doctors told him without complaint, and he even did the dumb physical therapy exercises.

He had to admit though, that Anna had been a big help too. Dean really liked Cas’s older sister even before she started staying with them. She was sweet and understanding, but she also liked to tease Dean about the little things. Like she would get a fact about cars wrong on purpose just to hear Dean go off on a tangent. But what he liked most about her was that she loved Cas more than anything in the world. She cared for her little brother almost as much as Dean cared for his. Almost. She was actually the first person in Cas’s family that Dean met. She was the only one he was out to at the time and she was nothing but loving and supportive. Of course she had to give Dean the big sister third degree though, but after that they got along just fine.

Dean had almost choked on his drink laughing when she had threatened to drug Cas if he didn’t go and get some rest. He couldn’t help but agree with her.

Anna had agreed to stay home with Jack while Dean and Cas went to the hospital for Sam’s first treatment, which just added to the reasons Dean was grateful for her, because now he could hold Sam’s hand while they prepped him for the procedure and have his husband by his side.

Sam still wasn’t responsive but Dean could tell that he was aware of what was going on. He could read the fear in his little brother’s eyes. He tried to speak in a low comforting voice to distract him.

“You’re going to be okay, Sammy,” was the last thing Dean said before he kissed his brother’s temple and a nurse came to take him back.

As he watched his brother disappear behind double doors Dean sat back down next to Cas and let him wrap his arms around him.

“Explain the whole thing to me again?” Dean asked.

Cas sighed and then nodded, “First an anesthesiologist will put Sam completely under while monitoring his vitals, then using electrodes Gabriel will send just enough of shock to his brain to stimulate a seizure. It will last less than a minute and then he will be done.”

“You’ve seen it done before?”

“Yes, it has been very effective in the past,” Cas confirmed.

He felt Dean’s arms tighten around him. "You think it’ll work, Cas?" Dean’s voice was barely a whisper.

"I have every reason to believe it will, Dean," Cas replied, his voice firm, projecting a confidence he didn’t entirely feel. He pulled Dean closer, resting his chin on his husband’s head. "We’re doing everything we can for him."

☂☂☂☂☂

Sam’s mouth felt as if it was full of cotton when he woke up. His body felt fuzzy and sore. When he tried to open his eyes they resisted the light and he snapped them closed again. He heard someone’s voice but it sounded like it was underwater.

Suddenly his stomach tightened and he quickly leaned over to throw up. He groaned and cried as someone quickly sat him up and pushed something underneath his chin to catch the bile.

“Sshh, Sammy, it’s okay,” Dean was gently rubbing his back.

“The light,” Sam winced at the rawness of his throat.

“Cas, will you turn off the light?”

It suddenly became easier to open his eyes now the room was darker. Dean was sitting beside him on the bed while Cas sat back down on the chair next to it. The nurse gently pried away the bin he got sick in and started to gently clean him up.

“You with us, Sammy?” Dean asked.

Sam didn’t want to try his voice again so he simply nodded.

“Hey Sam, how are you doing?” Gabriel came into the room followed closely by Rowena. It was odd seeing the pair in scrubs and white coats. Rowena usually opted for tight dresses and formal wear, but somehow still comforting and Gabriel was usually completely casual with cardigans and tennis shoes.

"Feeling better?" Gabriel asked, his voice softer than usual.

Sam tried to nod but his head felt heavy. He closed his eyes as he winced a little. He managed a weak "Mm-hmm."

"That’s good, Sammy," Dean said, still stroking his back.

"The procedure went well, Sam," Rowena added, a small, reassuring smile on her face. "You did very well."

Sam slowly opened his eyes again, letting them adjust to the dim light. He looked at Gabriel and Rowena, then back at Dean. The fuzziness in his head was starting to clear, and he could hear their voices clearly now. He still felt incredibly weak, but the overwhelming presence of Lucifer was gone. For the first time in what felt like forever, his mind was quiet.

He managed to lift a hand, weakly reaching for Dean’s. Dean immediately laced their fingers together, squeezing gently.

"No more hallucinations?" Sam whispered, his voice raspy.

Dean, Cas, Gabriel, and Rowena exchanged a look of cautious hope.

"We don’t know yet, Sam," Cas said, leaning forward. "It’s a process. You’ll have a few more treatments."

"But for now, just rest," Gabriel advised. "You’ve been through a lot."

Sam closed his eyes, a profound sense of exhaustion washing over him. But this time, it wasn’t the draining exhaustion of constant torment. It was the exhaustion of a body that had fought a long battle and was finally allowed to rest. He felt a small, almost imperceptible shift in his mind, a lightness he hadn’t felt in months.

He was still afraid, but for the first time, there was a flicker of hope.

Chapter 5: April

Brady was hurt to say the least. When Sam came back to the ward he didn’t speak a word to him. It was almost as if Brady didn’t exist. No one would tell him what happened to Sam last month, but he knew that it was bad. Sam had checked out and was completely catatonic before they moved him from the ward. It had gotten so bad that Sam was pissing himself, because he could get out of bed.

Brady had tried to get Sam to talk or even just acknowledge that he was there, but he never got a response. The orderlies and nurses had told Brady to just leave Sam alone. Brady resorted to eavesdropping to get information on Sam. He figured out more than Sam probably wanted him to know.

The guy that somehow was allowed to defy visiting hours was Sam’s brother-in-law. Brady found out his name was Cas, which in Brady’s opinion was a dumb name, and he was a psychologist that seemed all too friendly with Gabriel. Brady asked Gabriel about Cas in one of their sessions and Gabriel all but told him to mind his own, so naturally he did not.

There was another doctor that only came to see Sam. She was some type of specialist that came at the request of Cas. It seemed Sam’s family had some type of powerful pull, or maybe just all the right connections.

Turns out it is pretty easy to find information on someone if they are a registered psychologist. The only trouble Brady had was figuring out what Cas’s full name was. Well… that and the fact that he had a limited time on the computer. Luckily, a little social media stalking of the specialist Dr. Rowena MacLeod, Brady was able to find an old picture of her and Dr. Castiel Novak. The nickname was better than the full name. Cas’s parents must have hated him.

After that it was easy sailing. Dr. Novak worked for the KCPD as a department psychologist and low and behold he was married to one Detective Dean Winchester. A decorated cop who had been with the 15th precinct for ten years. Brady never caught Sam’s last name but he was willing to bet that it was Winchester.

Yahtzee! there was a Sam Winchester that worked for the DA up until a couple months ago. At that point Brady might have realized that he had gone too deep and now knew way too much about Sam, but he couldn’t help himself; he was becoming obsessive. Since Sam was back and ignoring him he had nothing better to do with his time.

“You’ve been using a lot of your computer time recently,” Gabriel observed at one of their sessions. If Brady didn’t know any better he would say Gabriel sounded accusatory.

“Well that’s what they’re there for, right?” Brady responded, not quite defensive.

“Can you tell me what you have been doing?” Gabriel asked.

“Checking my email,” Brady rolled his eyes.

“Tyson, You do realize that I can see your search history when you log off the computor,”

“Oh,”

“Can I ask you why you are violating Sam’s privacy?”

“Is it really private if it is on the internet?” Brady shot back.

“Why are you obsessing about Sam?” Gabriel rephrased.

“Because he won’t talk to me anymore,” Brady crossed his arms like a pouting child.

“That’s because I asked him not to,”

“What! Why?” He was taken aback.

“At the request of his family,” Gabriel answered.

“You mean his brother-in-law?”

“While it is none of your business, yes, he found out that you and Sam were having sex and he was more than a little upset,”

“Why? Sam and I are both adults with free will,” Brady scoffed.

"No, Sam isn’t lucid enough to give consent for sex while he’s actively experiencing psychosis, especially given his history of sexual trauma. And as his guardian, Cas has every right to dictate who has access to him, and in what capacity."

“That is utter bullshit!” Brady snapped.

"It is absolutely not bullshit, Tyson. Sam has a history of severe trauma, and his current mental state makes him incredibly vulnerable. Taking advantage of that vulnerability, regardless of intent, is a violation of his trust and his autonomy." Gabriel’s voice was stern, leaving no room for argument. "Cas is doing what any responsible guardian would do: protecting someone who cannot fully protect himself right now."

Brady opened his mouth to retort, then closed it. He looked away, his jaw working. "So, I just… don’t get to see him anymore?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly small.

"Not in that capacity, no," Gabriel confirmed. "You can still be friends, once Sam is stable enough to make those choices for himself. But anything beyond that is out of the question."

Brady slumped back in his chair, defeated. "Great. Just great. So, I’m stuck here, alone, again."

"You’re not alone, Tyson," Gabriel said, his tone softening slightly. "You have me. And we can work on this, together. On why you feel the need to fill that void with… obsessions."

Brady scoffed, but he didn’t argue. He just stared at the wall, a distant look in his eyes.

☂☂☂☂☂

Sam wasn’t exactly sure how he let it slip to Cas that he and Brady were screwing before he started his ECT treatments, but now he was forbidden to talk to Brady and it wasn’t fair. Brady hadn’t done anything wrong.

The worst part was Brady seemed actually really hurt that Sam wasn’t talking to him. Sam had tried to write a letter to leave for Brady to find but every draft he hated and ended up throwing in the trash. Cas wasn’t being fair and he had told him as much multiple time, but he was simply treated like a child throwing a tantrum.

At Sam’s about 15th draft of the letter he heard an achingly familiar voice from the corner of the room.

“Oh Sammy, are you finally seeing how they are treating you?” Lucifer wandered over and sat on Sam’s bed. “You are just a child to them.”

Sam tensed. He hadn’t seen Lucifer since his first ECT treatment. He thought it had worked.

“It obviously didn’t because I’m still here,” Lucifer sang.

Sam swiped his hands across his desk, “no, no, no!” he screamed as paper and crayons flew across the room.

“Oh now he is actually throwing a tantrum like a child,” Lucifer chided.

“You were supposed to be gone!” Sam cried.

“You can’t get rid of me. I will haunt you for the rest of your life,” he was deadly serious.

Sam wasn’t sure what overcame him but he began to slam his head into the wall. Even as orderlies rushed into his room and tried to tear him away, they weren’t successful until the drugs they injected him with started working. As Sam became more pliant and three orderlies pulled him away from the wall, he watched as a smear of crimson trickled down the stark white.

But there was an upside: Lucifer was gone.

☂☂☂☂☂

Cas was with a patient so that meant his office door was closed and his phone was on silent. He was sitting on the carpet surrounded by legos with a little boy named Jesse. He was a sweet kid. It was Cas’s job to find out if he was fit to testify in court against his abusive birth mother.

He hated cases like this. Not because he didn’t like kids. Cas loved children; otherwise, he wouldn’t have one of his own. It was a reminder that there were people terrible enough to hurt children. Recently Cas had been reminded every day of the kind of world that he was going to raise Jack in. He had to hold on to the hope that not everyone was like Jesse’s mom, or Sam’s abusers.

“Hey Cas?” Jesse looked up at Cas from his lego racecar.

“Hmm”

“If I don’t go to court and talk about my mom does that mean I will have to go home with her?” Jesse looked genuinely scared.

“Is that something that you are afraid of?” Cas asked.

Jesse nodded, “I want to stay with Jane and Doug,” he whispered.

“Well then, no matter whether or not you testify that is where you will stay,” Cas assured him, “the only thing your testimony will do is decide how your mother is punished.”

“Okay,” Jesse seemed to ponder that for a moment and then he held up his lego car, “I made a racecar!”

“I do believe you have bested me at legos again,” Cas chuckled as he presented his lopsided creation.

Jesse crinkled his nose, “what is it?”

“A rocketship?” It was more of a question than an answer.

“I think you need more practice,” Jesse concluded.

“I am going to have to agree with you,” Cas smiled.

After his session Jesse’s foster parents came into Cas’s office while Jo took him to go see the interrogation room. Cas was going to protest and say that Jo had a skewed idea of what fascinated children but Jesse seemed excited so he just shrugged and allowed it.

“Mister and Misses Turner,” Cas shook both of their hands, “thank you for meeting with me,”

“Of course,” Jane smiled politely.

“I wanted to ask you both if you had plans to continue fostering Jesse,”

“Um actually,” Jane looked at her husband nervously then back at Cas, “we were wondering if after the trial you would be willing to write a recommendation that we adopt Jesse,”

“That is wonderful,” Cas smiled, “I would be more than happy to do so. From what Jesse has told me I think that would make him very happy.”

Jane and Doug looked overjoyed.

“Thank you, Dr. Novak. You have no idea what that means to us,” Doug said.

“Actually I do,” Cas picked up a picture of him and Dean sitting on the hood of the Impala with Jack in their arms, “This picture was taken the day my husband and I adopted our son last year,”

“You guys are so adorable,” Jane gasped.

“Have you made your decision on whether or not Jesse will testify?” Doug asked.

“I will leave the decision to Jesse,” Cas answered, “either way I will still be testifying on his behalf confirming that Jesse should stay placed with you and Mrs.Turner.”

“Thank you again, Dr. Novak,” Doug shook Cas’s hand once more and then led his wife out of the office to meet Jesse who was standing and waiting with Jo. Cas smiled as Jesse jumped into Mr. Turner’s arms and he swung him around.

Cas had a feeling that they were going to be a really happy family despite the rough start.

He settled back down into his desk and checked his cellphone only to realize he had multiple missed calls and messages from Rowena and Gabriel. Just like that his good day began to warp.

☂☂☂☂☂

Sam felt dizzy and nauseous as soon as he woke up. He tried to move his hands to rub his eyes, but quickly realized he was restrained. He looked around desperately to tell someone he was going to throw up; there was no one in his field of vision, so he ended up vomiting all over himself.

He decided that this was his least favorite way to wake up.

To add on top of that, because he couldn’t control his dumbass emotions he began to cry.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you wake up,” a nurse rushed to his side with a towel to clean him up. She pressed the call button with her free hand, “Can I have some assistance in here?”

Two male nurses came in and undid Sam’s restraints and sat him up. He realized as they took off his shirt that he was back in a regular hospital room. It must have had something to do with the throbbing in his head.

Rowena came in after they pulled a fresh pair of clothes on him. The two male nurses moved to put the restraints back on Sam but Rowena stopped them.

“It’s alright darlings, he is fine without them,” She gave them a pleasant smile and all three nurses left the room.

Sam laid back in bed, feeling very exhausted. “What happened?”

“I believe you had a hallucination resulting in you slamming your head into the wall,” Rowena answered as she picked up the chart at the end of the bed.

“That’s why my head hurts so much?”

“Yes, looks like you gave yourself a mild concussion,” she frowned and marked something on the chart before putting it back and sitting down in the chair nearest to the bed.

“I didn’t mean to,” Sam said even though he had no idea whether or not he did.

“I know, dear,” Rowena sighed, “but it’s just frustrating because that means we can’t do another ECT treatment until you heal and that means your hallucinations may revert back to what they were before,”

Sam groaned, “seems I really like to go and screw things up,”

“Samuel, the self deprecation isn’t going to help,” Rowena warned.

“Yeah and neither is banning me from talking to Brady,” Sam shot back.

"I know, Samuel, and I understand why you feel that way," Rowena said gently. "But your health and safety are our priority. And right now, communicating with Brady isn’t conducive to your healing."

Sam scoffed, turning his head away. "He didn’t do anything wrong. He was actually helping me."

"He might have been, in a way that felt good to you at the time," Rowena conceded. "But given the circumstances of your mental state, and your history, it was a dangerous dynamic. You were vulnerable, Sam. And those in vulnerable states cannot truly give consent."

"So I’m a child then?" Sam’s voice was laced with bitterness. "That’s what Cas thinks, that’s what Gabe thinks, and that’s what you apparently think too. I can’t make my own decisions."

Rowena sighed, leaning forward. "No, Sam. We think you are a human being who has endured immense trauma, and because of that trauma, your brain is currently not functioning at its full capacity. We are simply trying to protect you until it can."

"But it feels like a punishment," Sam whispered, tears pricking at his eyes.

"I know it does," Rowena said, her voice full of empathy. "And I am truly sorry for that. But sometimes, what feels like a punishment is actually an act of love and protection. We care about you, Samuel. All of us. And we want you to get better."

Sam didn’t respond, just stared at the ceiling, a silent protest in his eyes. Rowena knew it would be a long road, but she also knew they couldn't give up on him.

☂☂☂☂☂

Sam’s hallucinations were back and to top that he gave himself a concussion. Cas wasn’t prone to snap or have fits of anger but if his shattered cellphone was any proof he may have been overcome just a little.

“Cas, could I ask why you just threw your phone across the room?” Jo entered the office tentatively. She had watched his emotional outburst after she saw the Turners off and turned back around just in time to see Cas chuck his phone at the wall.

“I needed a new one anyway,” Cas sighed as he flopped down into his desk chair and put his head in his hands.

“I usually,” Jo picked up the shattered phone, “find myself picking up after Dean’s tantrums not yours,” She set it on the desk in front of Cas and chuckled. “Was there something that upset you or do you really just hate technology that much?”

“Sam,” Cas answered simply.

“Oh,” Jo nodded. That was all the explanation she needed. Then she looked at her watch and back at Cas, “do you want to go get a drink?”

“I don’t think—”

“Let me rephrase that,” Jo cut him off, “you are coming with me to go get a drink,”

“I have work to finish,”

“And it can be done tomorrow,” Jo grabbed Cas’s hand, “tonight, we are going to drink our problems away,”

“That is hardly healthy,” Cas commented as he snatched his jacket while being led out of his office.

“It’s how all of us without fancy degrees cope,” Jo teased.

Cas rolled his eyes but followed after Jo without complaint.

☂☂☂☂☂

The Bar was loud, crowded, and definitely not Cas’s scene. When he was still dating Dean, Cas used to come to the bar after work all the time just so that he could be around him. Most of the 15th precinct enjoyed coming to the bar after work, Cas was just not one of them.

In all Cas wasn’t much of a drinker, but recently he found himself drinking more than usual. Which was sort of hypocritical since he had told Dean that he needed to slow down on the alcohol. On their first date Cas had called Dean a functional alcoholic and somehow he still got a second date. One of the few times he had genuinely gotten drunk was on that second date. Dean was more than likely trying to prove a point by getting Cas shitfaced, but the night ended with them screwing in the back of the impala, so it wasn’t a complete bust.

Cas was nursing a beer when Jo brought over a line of shots and set them down in front of him.

“It’s a Wednesday night, Jo,” Cas eyed the drinks wearily.

“I am so glad you know what day of the week it is,” Jo patted him on the back.

Cas simply glared at Jo as he threw back the first shot.

“Atta boy,” Jo smirked as she took the second one.

Cas threw caution to the wind and downed three more, "I think I am starting to feel something,”

“Starting to?!” Jo choked.

“Holy shit, Dr. Novak knows how to party,” Ash gawked from the juke box.

☂☂☂☂☂

“Ya know some timez I don ‘ink I actual-ly err-ned my spot when I was a resident,” Cas stumbled into Jo as she held him up while they walked down the sidewalk.

“What do you mean? You're wicked smart. You could have any job you wanted and still you chose to help people and work for a government wage,” Jo said as she supported majority of Cas’s weight.

“Nah, I slept my way ta the top,” Cas giggled, “oh, I wasn’t suspos’ to say that,”

“Cas,” Jo set him down on the curb, “I am not sure you really want to be talking right now,”

“Might as well say it,” Cas shrugged, “he’s gonna ruin my career anyhow,”

Jo sat down next to him, “who is going to ruin your career,”

“Zach-a-ria,” Cas sounded out his name, “that’s a dumb name. It matches his dumb face. He’s the first time I genuinely contemplated murder.”

“Cas, are you talking about the doctor that worked for Morningstar?” Jo asked.

“Hey look at that! He worked for Lucifer, I worked for him…” Cas sang.

“Maybe we should talk about this when you are sober,” Jo tried to stand up but Cas pulled her back down.

“No, I won’t say anythin’ if I’m sober ‘cause it’s my fault,”

“What’s your fault?”

“Knew he was a bad person but didn’t say anything. Then he hurt Sam ‘cause of me,” Cas looked like he was about to cry.

“What happened to Sam isn’t your fault,” Jo wrapped an arm around Cas.

“It is!” He cried and pushed her away, “I knew the kind of person he was and I did nothing!”

“How could you have known?” Jo had a sickening feeling that she already knew the answer.

“He told me he would give me every opportunity I dreamed of, but I said no. Jo, you have to believe that I said no,” Cas sobbed.

“Ssshh, It’s okay, I believe you,” she pulled him into her arms.

“It’s not ‘kay,” he shuttered, “I said no at first but then I stopped saying anything at all,”

“Oh, Cas…”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” He cried into Jo’s shoulder.

This night really didn’t go as planned.

☂☂☂☂☂

Cas woke up with a raging headache. He rolled over and groaned when he fell off the couch with a thump. He sat up and looked around and realized that he wasn’t even in his own house.

“Good morning sunshine,” Jo walked into the room with a glass of orange juice.

“What time is it?” he winced as he picked himself up off the floor and back onto the couch.

“Noon,” She answered as she set down the juice on the coffee table, “don’t worry I already called my mom and told her you were drunk on my couch. Drink that,”

“Great, so you told my boss that I got drunk on a weekday,” Cas grumbled as he took slow sips from the glass.

“Oh, I sent pictures too,” Jo smirked, “you slept in some pretty interesting positions,”

“I hate you,”

“You’re going to hate yourself here pretty soon,”

“What do you–” as if on cue Cas shot up and rushed to the bathroom. He emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

“I gotta admit that the bar was a bad idea on my part,” Jo leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom.

“You think,” Cas glared at her, but then was interrupted by more heaving.

“By the way, Dean says his new background on his phone is the picture of you with your ass in the air and face first into the couch cushion.”

“Great,”

“Don’t worry because now I also know that Dean likes being handcuffed in bed,” Jo laughed.

“Oh, my god,” Cas groaned, “you know way too much,”

“Well, you were the one over sharing, my friend,” Jo smiled but then it faded, “speaking of which, how much do you remember sharing?”

“Oh god, did I tell you what Dean and I did in the precinct bathroom,” Cas whined as he leaned back against the wall.

“No, but you are going to tell me about that later,” Jo leaned over and pulled Cas up off the floor.

“What did I tell you?” Cas asked, starting to get a little worried.

“We will talk about it after you talk a shower,” Jo frowned, “you smell terrible, man,”

☂☂☂☂☂

Jo was kind enough to come into the bathroom and leave a change of clothes and a fresh towel for Cas while he showered. When he got out he realized that the clothes were his own.

“Jo, how did you get a change of my clothes?” Cas asked as he wandered back into the living room.

“I brought them,”

Cas stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his red haired sister sitting on the couch.

“Anna, what are you doing here?”

“I asked her to come,” Jo came in from the kitchen with a gatorade and two aspirin which she then pressed into Cas’s hands.

“May I ask why?” He tentatively sat down.

“You told me something last night that raised some red flags,” Jo sighed, “and I know you probably aren’t going to want to talk about it now but I can’t just let it slide.”

“I don’t understand, what did I say?” Cas searched his sister and Jo's faces for some explanation.

“Cas, what happened between you and Zacharia when he was your boss?” Anna asked.

Cas’s heart stopped. There was no way he had admitted that to Jo last night. That was something he buried so deep it never saw the light of day.

“I–I don’t—”

“I can tell when you are lying,” Jo cut him off, “Don’t forget people try to lie to my face all day long,”

“Please, It’s in the past. Don’t make me talk about it,” Cas shook his head.

“Did Zacharia force himself on you?” Anna pressed.

“Yes… no… I mean it wasn’t like that,” Cas fumbled.

“Tell me what it was like, then,”

“Please don’t tell Dean,” he begged.

“We won’t but you need to tell us what happened,” Jo said.

Cas looked from Jo to his sister. He felt so stuck. Why did he have to get drunk and open his stupid mouth?

Chapter 6: May

Notes:

sorry for the double post on chapters that was a technical issue on my end. here is the new chapter!

Cas wasn’t avoiding Anna, he just found himself in places where she wasn’t. Which was incredibly hard to do since she was currently staying in the guest room. True to her word she hadn’t said anything to Dean. Cas would be ever grateful for that.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Dean observed as they walked hand in hand while Cas pushed Jack’s stroller with the other.

“I’ve just been thinking,” Cas said.

“Well that’s never good,” Dean teased.

“Must you always be an ass,” Cas complained but couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s part of my husbandly duties. This marriage doesn’t work otherwise,” Dean kissed him on the cheek.

Cas hummed sceptically.

“So are you going to spill or are you going to just leave me waiting here in suspense?”

Dean brought him back to his original train of thought. “Zacharia is currently out on bail but agent Henrickson hasn’t given me any more information than that,” Cas sighed, “I’m just worried that–” he paused.

“That he’s going to get away with everything?” Dean finished.

“God, it’s my fault too. I freaked out and I couldn’t keep my cool,”

“It’s not your fault, Cas”

“How do you know? You weren’t there,”

“No, but I know you. I’ve seen that way you get when someone you love is threatened. I know because it’s probably the same thing I would have done. Except I might have assaulted Zacharia too, so I’d say you are scoring better than me,”

"I can’t argue with that," Cas agreed, a small, wry smile touching his lips. "I’m just… I’m so tired of all of this, Dean. Of fighting. Of worrying."

Dean squeezed his hand. "I know, Cas. Me too. But we’re almost through it. Sam’s going to get better. And Zachariah… he’s going to pay for what he did."

Cas nodded, taking a deep breath. He hoped Dean was right. He truly did.

☂☂☂☂☂

Sam knew that he only had to wait one more week and then he would have another ECT treatment, but Lucifer was getting so loud that doubt started to form.

“They tried the treatment once already and it didn’t work,” Lucifer taunted.

“It did,” Sam responded through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, for like what? Two weeks?” the hallucination scoffed.

Sam had to shut him up. It was only a week. He could survive a week.

He dug his nails into the muscle on his thigh. Sam had discovered after he gave himself a concussion that it was pain that kept him grounded and the hallucinations away. It’s the same reason why sex with Brady worked. Brady had been rough. It was so overwhelming that it was the only thing that Sam’s brain had been able to focus on.

Sex with Brady wasn’t an option now. Every staff member had been hypervigilant about the distance between him and Sam. It was starting to get annoying. Hell, it was already annoying.

Speaking of annoying, Lucifer was now whistling Magical Mystery Tour. Sam dug his nails deeper but the hallucination held steady. He frowned.

“Can’t get rid of me that easy, Sammy,”

Sam stood up and quickly looked down the hall from his room. Most people were in the rec room in the middle of the day so the hall was desolate. Sam opted not to close his door as that would raise more suspicions than just leaving it open. Then he chose the one corner of the room that wasn’t visible from the hall after taking the loose screw from his bed. He knew that as soon as he had found the screw he should have handed it in, but for some reason he didn’t. At the moment he was grateful that he didn’t; he didn’t have anything else to hurt himself with besides his own hands.

His exposed arms definitely not being an option, Sam pulled his pants a quarter of the way down.

“Loving the view,” Lucifer chuckled.

Sam ignored him as he dug the sharp end of the screw into his thigh. Lucifer flicked but stayed.

“Oh come on, you are the champion of hurting yourself and that is best you’ve got,” he jabbed.

With more determination than necessary, Sam drug another line across his skin, this time drawing blood. He stared down at the little beads of crimson. He had forgotten how much he missed that feeling of power. It was almost as much as he missed the feeling of being completely numb.

A little more confidently, he drew three more lines. Each one drawing more than the last. He hadn’t realized that Lucifer was gone until his blood was dripping onto the floor.

He may have gotten a little carried away.

While avoiding getting any on his pants, Sam grabbed tissues to stop the blood. After stanching the flow, he looked around and realized that there was still no one around. Including Lucifer. It was still early afternoon. He didn’t have any appointments until three. That gave him plenty of time to clean up after himself.

Sam greedily drew more lines into himself. The relief was almost intoxicating. The rational part of his brain knew that this wasn’t sustainable, but he could do this for a week… right?

☂☂☂☂☂

Cas was working at his desk trying to ignore the fact that his sister was sitting on Jo’s desk conspiring with her. He had half a mind to close his office door and shut out everyone, but that wouldn’t be fair to the people that needed him and he wasn’t mad at.

Dean was at a doctor’s appointment so Anna brought Jack with her to the precinct to wait until he was done. Jack had been ‘commandeered’ by Captain Harvelle, saying that he was necessary to very important police work. Cas could almost guarantee that Ellen wasn’t doing any type of working with the sleeping child in her arms.

Cas wasn’t sure how he got there but he was staring at a picture from when he was twenty seven. It’s of him and a couple other residents including Rowena. Everyone is smiling except for him. His lips are faintly upturned but it is obvious that it’s not real.

8 years ago

“Dr. Novak,” Hannah ran to catch up with Castiel.

“What can I do for you?” he slowed to let his co-worker catch up.

“Dr. Grey wants to see you in his office,” Hannah explained.

“Oh, of course,” Castiel nodded and turned towards his superior’s office.

Hannah caught his arm, “Hey, are we still on for tonight?” she spoke in a low tone.

“Yes, I will arrive at your apartment at seven,” Castiel confirmed.

She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. Before she pulled away she whispered, “make sure to bring protection,”

“What would I need protection for?” Castiel tilted his head in confusion, “We are simply eating dinner at your apartment. If your neighborhood is that dangerous you should consider moving,”

Hannah looked stricken for a moment before drawing a smile and laughing, “Condoms, Castiel. I meant sexual protection,”

“Oh, I see,” Castiel chuckled, “my mistake. I will see you at seven tonight,” he attempted to wink but it mostly looked like an awkward twitch.

Before he could embarrass himself further, Castiel headed in the direction of Dr. Grey’s office.

Zachariah looked up from his computer, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Castiel, my boy, come in, come in!"

Castiel entered the office, a sense of unease settling over him. Zachariah's overly jovial demeanor was usually a precursor to something manipulative. "You wished to see me, Dr. Grey?"

"Indeed, I did!" Zachariah gestured to the chair opposite his desk. "Please, sit. I just wanted to congratulate you on your excellent progress. Your research paper on cognitive restructuring in PTSD patients was absolutely brilliant. I’m thinking of having it published in the next issue of the department’s journal."

Castiel felt a flicker of surprise. He had worked tirelessly on that paper, but he hadn’t expected such effusive praise, especially not from Zachariah, who rarely complimented anyone. "Thank you, Dr. Grey. That's... unexpected."

"Nonsense! You're a brilliant young mind, Castiel. Full of potential. And I want to foster that potential." Zachariah leaned back, lacing his fingers together. "Which brings me to my next point. I’ve been thinking about your future here at the hospital. You're wasted on general residency. You need a specialty. Something that truly challenges you."

Castiel felt a cautious optimism. This was what he had been working towards, what he had dreamed of. "And what did you have in mind?"

"Forensic psychology," Zachariah said, his eyes gleaming. "A true challenge. The cutting edge of our field. And I happen to have a few connections, a few... opportunities that would be perfect for someone with your unique insights."

"Forensic psychology?" Castiel repeated, his mind racing. It was an intriguing prospect, something he had considered but dismissed as too competitive.

"Precisely. Imagine, Castiel. Working on high-profile cases, delving into the minds of criminals, understanding what makes them tick. You'd be at the forefront of mental health and law enforcement. And with my mentorship, your career would skyrocket." Zachariah paused, letting his words sink in. "Of course, it would require a certain... dedication. A willingness to push boundaries. To prioritize the work above all else."

Castiel’s heart pounded with a mix of excitement and apprehension. This was an incredible offer, but something about Zachariah’s intensity made him uneasy. "What kind of dedication?"

Zachariah smiled, a slow, knowing smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Just a willingness to be flexible. To understand that sometimes, the traditional rules don't apply when you're dealing with truly exceptional cases. And, of course, complete discretion. The work we would be doing, it's sensitive. Confidential. You would be working directly with me, closely. You would be my protege."

Castiel thought of his plans with Hannah, the simple dinner he was looking forward to. He imagined late nights, intense research, the thrill of groundbreaking work. This was the fast track, the opportunity he had always wanted. But the way Zachariah was looking at him, almost possessively, sent a shiver down his spine.

"I... I would need to think about it," Castiel finally managed, his voice a little hoarse.

"Of course, my boy, of course," Zachariah chuckled, though his smile didn't waver. "Just remember, opportunities like this don't come along every day. And I do believe you are uniquely suited for it." He stood, indicating the conversation was over. "I’ll expect your answer by the end of the week. Don't disappoint me, Castiel."

Castiel walked out of Zachariah’s office feeling a knot of unease in his stomach. The offer was tempting, incredibly so. It was everything he had ever wanted for his career. But the price, unspoken yet clearly implied, felt vaguely threatening. He found himself walking past Hannah standing at the nurses’ station, feeling a sudden, inexplicable urge to cancel their plans.

For the rest of the day Castiel thought about Dr. Grey’s offer. He never really put much thought into his specialty. He always figured that he would just be a general psychologist and work in a public hospital, but something about what Dr. Grey had said kept on bringing forensic psychology back to the forefront of his mind. It wasn’t even about the specifics of the job, it was the way Zachariah had made the attention he’d be receiving so appealing. So often had Castiel sought out approval of others. He could probably psychoanalyze the reason for that all day but at the end of it that didn’t change the feeling.

Around six most of the residents on his shift had left, including Hannah, Castiel knew that he should go home and get ready for his date but something pulled him towards Dr. Grey’s office.

Castiel knocked on the door frame even though the door was already wide open.

“Castiel, come on in,” Zachariah smiled up at him. “Close the door behind you,”

Castiel did as he was told without thinking about it, “Sir, I have thought about our conversation earlier,”

“Yes, have you come to a decision?”

"Yes, sir. I would be honored to accept your mentorship and pursue forensic psychology."

“Good boy, I knew you would make the right choice,” Zachariah beamed.

Zachariah’s smile didn’t falter as he rose from his desk and walked around to where Castiel was standing. "Excellent, Castiel, excellent. I knew you had it in you." He placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder, his grip surprisingly firm. "This is the beginning of something truly great for you, my boy."

Castiel felt a shiver of unease, a feeling that had nothing to do with excitement. He tried to subtly shift away, but Zachariah's hand remained.

"You know," Zachariah continued, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone, "a partnership like ours, a mentor-protege relationship, it requires a certain level of… trust. Intimacy, even." His thumb began to slowly stroke the fabric of Castiel's lab coat on his shoulder.

Castiel’s heart began to pound, a frantic drumbeat against his ribs. He didn’t like the way Zachariah was looking at him, the way his voice had changed. "I understand, sir. I assure you of my complete dedication to the work." He tried again to step back, but Zachariah moved with him, effectively blocking his path to the door.

"Dedication, yes," Zachariah purred, his hand sliding slowly from Castiel's shoulder down his arm. "But sometimes, dedication isn't enough. Sometimes, one must go above and beyond. Show true commitment." His fingers brushed Castiel’s hand, then interlaced with his, squeezing gently.

Castiel’s breath hitched. He felt trapped, his mind racing for an escape. He looked at their joined hands, then back at Zachariah’s face, which still held that unsettling, unwavering smile. "Sir, I... I believe I have a prior engagement this evening." The lie felt weak, transparent.

Zachariah chuckled, a low, unpleasant sound. "Do you now, Castiel? Or perhaps that engagement can be... postponed? For the sake of your promising future?" He squeezed Castiel’s hand again, his eyes locking onto his with an unnerving intensity. "After all, loyalty to your mentor is paramount, wouldn't you agree?"

Castiel tried to pull away, but Zachariah held strong, “Of course sir but I…” He swallowed hard, looking for an out.

“I can make or break your career, boy,” his eyes darkened.

He felt a cold dread settle in his stomach. The implicit threat was now explicit. His future, his entire career, hung in the balance. All the years of hard work, the endless studying, the sacrifices—could they all be undone by one refusal?

"I... I understand, sir," Castiel finally said, his voice barely a whisper. He felt a profound sense of shame, even as the words left his mouth. He didn't understand why he couldn't just say no, why his body wouldn't obey his mind. But the fear, raw and immediate, was paralyzing.

Zachariah's smile widened, triumphant. "Good, Castiel. I knew you were intelligent enough to see the bigger picture." His grip on Castiel's hand tightened, then he pulled him closer, his other arm wrapping around Castiel's waist. "Now, how about we truly celebrate this new partnership?"

Castiel closed his eyes, a wave of nausea washing over him. He felt Zachariah's lips against his neck, then moving higher, towards his ear. Every instinct screamed at him to pull away, to fight, but he remained frozen, a silent prisoner in his own skin. He hated himself for it. He hated Zachariah even more.

He was pulled further into the room and pinned against the large wooden desk. Castiel opened his mouth to beg Zachariah to stop, but nothing came out but a whimper. His protests were ignored, anyway, as Zacharia made him face the desk.

“Drop your pants and bend over,” There was nothing intimate or sexy about the command. It was clinical and cold.

Castiel shook as he undid his belt and slipped his pants past his hips. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could disappear. He heard the rustle of Zachariah’s clothing behind him, then felt a cold, wet sensation as he was lubricated. He braced himself, his hands gripping the edge of the desk so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Then came the sharp, tearing pain as Zachariah forced his way in. Castiel cried out, a muffled sob escaping his lips. He squeezed his eyes even tighter, focusing on the rough texture of the wood beneath his fingers, anything to distract from the violation. It was quick, brutal, and humiliating. Every thrust was a fresh stab of agony, not just physical, but soul-crushing.

When it was over, Zachariah pulled out with a wet slap, and Castiel nearly collapsed against the desk. He heard the man zip up his pants.

"That’ll be all, Castiel," Zachariah said, his voice back to its usual professional tone, as if nothing had happened. "I know that you are bound for great things,”

Castiel hurried out of the doctor’s office. He checked his phone to find three missed calls from Hannah. He ignored them and went straight home. Everything was a blur until he was sitting on the floor of his shower sobbing. He sat there until the water went cold, then he got up, dried off, and went to bed.

The next morning he got up and dragged himself out of bed, simply because he had to.

He came into work with a slight limp that he hoped to god no one noticed. He spotted Hannah speaking to someone at the nurse’s station. He resolved to go and apologize to her, but stopped dead in his tracks when he realized she was talking to Zachariah. It was too late, though, she had already spotted him.

“Castiel!” she called him over.

“Hannah, I’m sor–”

“Don’t be,” she gave him a playful shove, “Dr. Grey was telling me that you really saved him last night when you agreed to help him with a case,”

Castiel gave a confused look to Zachariah, who simply smiled.

“Dr. Novak just might be one of my favorites, that’s if I had favorites that is,” He gave a playful wink. Then looked down at his watch, “well I suppose we should all get rounds started,” He snatched a chart for the nurses’ station and swagered off.

At lunch Castiel was quiet but that wasn’t completely out of the ordinary. Somehow Rowena still knew that something was wrong. Curse her intuition.

“You seem down for someone who is now the favorite golden boy,” the concern in her teasing tone did not go unnoticed.

“I’ve just been thinking,” Castiel sighed.

“Well one does never cease,” Rowena smiled, but then it faded when his expression didn’t change, “talk to me Cas,”

He opened his mouth to say something, but then Hannah plopped down right beside him.

“Hey Ro, trying to get some action from Castiel now that he is the proclaimed favorite?” Hannah asked playfully.

“You know I would never, darling,” she chuckled, “he is all yours.”

The table quickly filled up with other residents and the conversation got lost in drama and shop talk. Someone insisted on taking a picture with all of them together since a lot of them were soon to be moving on to their own practices or different hospitals.

Now

Cas hadn’t realized that he was crying until his sister had her arms wrapped around him.

“Cassie, you need to breathe,” Anna instructed.

Cas gasped for air.

Jo quickly and quietly shut the office door, ensuring they didn’t have any on-lookers. "I hate him," Cas choked out, his voice hoarse with unshed tears. "I hate him so much."

Anna held him tighter. "I know, little brother. I know."

"He just... he acted like nothing happened," Cas continued, his voice cracking. "Like it was normal. And I just... I couldn't say anything. I was so scared."

"You were a resident, Cas," Jo said softly, her hand on his back. "He was your superior. He had power over you. That's not your fault."

"But I should have fought him," Cas whispered, pulling away from Anna to scrub at his face. "I should have told someone. I should have done something."

"No, Cas," Anna said firmly, cupping his face in her hands. "You survived. You did what you had to do to survive. And you kept it buried to protect yourself. There's no shame in that. None at all."

"But Sam..." Cas looked at them, his eyes pleading. "What he went though… I knew about Zachariah, I knew he was a bad man, and I still let him near Sam. I let him hurt my brother. It's my fault Sam is like this."

"That's not true, Cas," Jo countered, her voice unwavering. "You didn't know the extent of Zachariah's depravity. You couldn't have. And you thought you were doing what was best for Sam, even when it was hard. You were trying to get justice for him."

"And you were manipulated, Cas," Anna added. "Just like Sam was. Zachariah preyed on your ambitions, on your desire to help people. He twisted it. That's his sin, not yours."

Cas looked at them, a flicker of something in his eyes that wasn't despair. He wanted to believe them. He desperately wanted to believe that he wasn't responsible for Sam's pain.

☂☂☂☂☂

Sam couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to see Brady. He waited until the ward was quiet, the only sounds the muffled snores from other rooms and the soft hum of the fluorescent lights in the hall. He crept out of his room, careful to avoid the creaky floorboard near the door, and made his way silently down the corridor. He knew Brady’s room number by heart. It was the only place he felt a semblance of peace anymore.

He gently pushed open the door, cringing at the faint squeak of the hinges, and slipped inside. Brady was asleep, a faint glow from the hallway illuminating his face. Sam moved closer, his heart thudding in his chest, not from fear of being caught, but from a desperate need for contact. He carefully pulled a chair beside Brady’s bed and sat down, just watching him for a long moment. He reached out a trembling hand and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Brady’s forehead.

Brady stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He blinked, confused, then his gaze focused on Sam. "Sam? What are you…?" His voice was a sleepy whisper.

"Shh," Sam murmured, pressing a finger to his own lips. "I just… I needed to see you."

Brady's eyes, still a little clouded with sleep, softened. He reached out and took Sam's hand, squeezing it gently. "You snuck in here?"

Sam nodded, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "Couldn’t stay away."

"What’s wrong?" Brady asked, his voice now fully awake, concern etched on his face.

Sam looked away, the quiet comfort of Brady’s presence a sharp contrast to the turmoil in his own mind. "Lucifer’s back. And… and I hurt myself again." He felt the familiar shame wash over him, but Brady’s grip on his hand remained firm.

"Oh, Sam," Brady said, his thumb stroking the back of Sam’s hand. He didn’t ask to see the injuries, he didn’t chastise him. He just held his hand. "I’m sorry, man. That sucks."

"I just… I needed to escape him," Sam whispered, tears pricking his eyes. "You make him go away."

Brady shifted, pulling Sam's chair closer with his free hand until their knees were almost touching. "Is that why you’re here now?"

Sam nodded, leaning into the touch. "I just want it to stop."

Brady sighed, a deep, weary sound. "I wish I could make him go away for good, Sammy. I really do." He paused, then looked into Sam’s eyes. "But tonight, you’re here. And he’s not. Right?"

Sam looked around the dim room, and for the first time since Lucifer’s return, the corner was empty. "Right," he breathed, a fragile sense of relief washing over him.

"Good," Brady said, pulling Sam’s hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles. "Just for tonight, okay? Just for tonight, he’s gone."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, trying to believe it. With Brady’s hand in his, and the quiet rhythm of his breathing beside him, it almost felt true. For a brief, precious moment, he could almost pretend everything was okay. He leaned his head against Brady’s shoulder, a silent plea for solace.

Brady wrapped his arm around Sam, pulling him closer into a comforting embrace. Sam let out a shaky breath, burying his face in Brady's shoulder, and for the first time in days, he felt a flicker of genuine calm. He didn’t know what the morning would bring, or if Lucifer would be waiting for him in his own room. But for now, in the quiet darkness of Brady’s room, he felt safe. He felt a moment of reprieve.

"We could escape, you know," Brady whispered, his voice a low rumble against Sam’s ear.

Sam lifted his head, a frown creasing his brow. "Escape? Where would we go?"

“I heard California is nice place to visit,”

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of One year gone