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Dean never asked for this.
He never asked for the demons to infect his mind with the reminders of all he’s lost. He never asked to have the events that stole his brother from him play on repeat all hours of the day. He can’t escape from them. He just wants to be normal, he just wants to find someone, settle down, have a couple of kids and a house.
He doesn’t want to be crazy.
Being stuck in the mental hospital is killing him, slowly. It’s sucking the life out of him and there is no coming back from that. He feels as if his soul is slowly being crushed, like someone is draining him from his body. Every day he’s in the facility just makes him less and less himself.
He doesn’t like cars anymore, or music. The thought of driving around in his dad’s Chevy Impala, nicknamed his Baby before he was admitted, just does nothing for him anymore. He can’t even enjoy pie in this place because here it tastes like hospital. Just another thing this god forsaken place has ruined besides his sanity.
Okay, yes, he understands that being put in this place qualifies you as ‘insane’. But he swears, this place is driving him even further over the edge. He personally doesn’t think that he was crazy when he was admitted. His family just didn’t want to deal with him or his grief.
But the doctors agreed-- apparently Dean is a paranoid schizophrenic with extreme anxiety and depression.
He called bullshit, but nobody gave a crap about what he thought-- unless it was about hearing voices, seeing things, suicide, or his brother.
Yea, his five year hospital stay has been just peachy.
Well, four years and eleven months. Not that anyone’s been counting.
Okay, so he’s been keeping track of every day. Big deal. All it’s shown him is that he hasn’t seen his dad or brother for nearly five years. The only person he’s seen from the outside is his Uncle Bobby, who isn’t actually his uncle at all. He’s more of a family friend.
“Oh come on now Dean, you don’t have any friends,” the voice in his mind reminds him. This voice is always the negative one, telling him how stupid and lonely he is. Ironically, this is his favorite. It doesn’t sugarcoat anything and it’s easier to believe what it’s telling him than the others.
“Shut up. Shut up,” Dean mutters to the voice. “Not today. Just go away.”
“Now Dean, don’t be rude. After all, I am your only friend who’s not dead,” the voice laughs. Dean buries his head in his hands, not wanting to see the face that goes along with the voice. He can feel him walking up and standing in front of him.
He knows that the voice is wrong, he has managed to make a few friends in the hospital, but the words still sting.
“Please, Alastair. Just go away,” Dean begs. The voice, Alastair, laughs nasally. The sound makes Dean’s skin crawl. “You’re not real, I know you’re not.”
“Oh, you know I love when you beg,” Alastair says. “And sure I’m real Dean. Open your eyes, beautiful. I’m as real as you are.” Dean shudders and peeks between his fingers. Sure enough, Alastair is sitting on his bed only inches from Dean. His creepy eyes are staring right at Dean, making him squirm.
“Just go away!” Dean yells into his hands, running his fingers through his hair and pulling the longer hair on the top of his head, attempting to bring himself back to reality. He hears the door to his small, white room open and sits up straight, dropping his hands to his lap. He knows that if any of the staff see him ‘having an episode’ that he will be either sedated or forced to go through an extra long therapy session, again.
Lucky for him, it’s not one of the staff members.
“Alastair again?” Anna asks. Dean nods shakily, letting his ‘perfectly okay’ mask fall once more. She walks over and sits on bed next to him, putting a hand on his knee. “It’s okay, you just have to remember that it’s not real.” She takes one of his hands in her own and squeezes. “I’m real. I’m right here with you. You can feel me, right?”
Dean nods, earning a soft smile from her.
“Good. Now, have you ever been able to touch Alastair? To feel that he’s real?” She asks.
“You never know until you try it,” Alastair laughs. Dean glances over, but does his best not to react. He’s never attempted to touch Alastair, though he’s tried touching other people he sees. His hand always goes right through.
Dean shakes his head. “Exactly. So, he’s not real.”
Dean looks at her in awe for a moment and thanks her. She always knows exactly what to say when he’s having a hard time. She is a patient too, but sometimes she acts like a doctor. She is only in here because of a suicide attempt a few years ago. She also used to have some schizophrenia, but it’s gotten better, more manageable thanks to the meds they gave her. .
He opens his mouth to say something when there is a crash from outside of his room. He jumps back while Anna darts towards the door.
The medicine they give him makes him jumpy.
“It looks like they’re bringing in a new guy,” Anna whispers. “But it doesn’t look like he wants to be here.” They both snort, knowing very well that nobody ever wants to be there. She leans out the open door and looks down the hallway. “Hey, he’s getting set up in the room next to you.”
Dean sighs. The room right next to his has been empty for six months after the last guy succeeded at getting himself dismissed.
He’s still bitter about that-- the guy was definitely still crazier than Dean ever has been.
Hopefully the new guy isn’t too loud. The walls here are paper thin and Dean can usually hear everything going on in the rooms near his.
“Dean,” Alastair taunts, popping up in the edge of Dean’s vision. He puts his head in his hands again, rubbing his palms into his eyes hard enough that he starts to see spots.
A gravelly shout from the hallway interrupts Alastair from saying anything else.
“Please! Don’t leave me in here!” the same deep voice shouts, muffled by a closed door.
“Dean! Dean please. Let me out! You can’t keep me in here! Guys, guys! Please!” Sam shouts from behind the closed door, banging on it as he screams. Dean doesn’t know what else to do, if Sam won’t get clean willingly, then Dean will just have to force him to allow the drugs to leave his system. Their dad’s not even here to help. Dean doesn’t know what to do.
“Please, Dean!”
“Dean?” A soft voice pulls him out of his memory. “Dean, are you okay?” Anna places a hand on Dean’s shoulder, guiding him to sit up. He drops his hands from his eyes and meets her’s. She runs a thumb across his cheekbone, her hand cupping his jaw.
“Yea, I’m okay,” he says with a small smile, another shout coming from the room beside him. “Wonder what’s got him all riled up?”
Anna shrugs and gets up again, walking over to the door.
“Let’s go find out,” she says, leaving the room without waiting for an answer. She’s always the one getting them in trouble with the staff-- dragging Dean places where patients really shouldn’t be. And Dean has a feeling that talking with the new insane person probably is one of the places they shouldn’t be at.
He gets up and follows her regardless.
He finds her in front of the newbie’s room, looking in the room through the small window. She looks over at Dean as she begins to turn the doorknob, jerking her head and telling him to come closer. He shakes his head, earning a frustrated look. Obviously she isn’t liking the direction of their silent exchange.
“Come on Dean,” Anna pleads, stepping towards him, her arms spread dramatically.
“No, there’s obviously a reason they have the door closed,” he replies, turning to head back to his room. She grabs his arm and spins him around. “Anna, no,” he whispers, making sure not to cause a scene. He scans the hallway for any of the staff.
If any of the patients are seen fighting or arguing, they are isolated for a couple of days, depending on what exactly they’re doing. Or, what Mrs. Tapping thinks is an appropriate punishment. Last time Dean got punished he had to spend a week in isolation, meaning he was locked in his room for an entire week. The only time he had any human contact was when Mrs. Tapping personally brought him his food.
The voices decided to keep him company.
“Don’t be a baby,” Anna hisses, letting go of his arm and turning around without a word, obviously expecting him to follow. When he doesn’t, she whips around. “Come on, Dean. He probably just needs a friend.”
Dean rolls his eyes. There goes Anna with her touchy-feely crap that she’s always trying to push on him. She’s the type of person who thinks love makes the whole world go ‘round and if everyone was just nice the world would be perfect.
Dean knows better.
He’s the type of person who thinks that people have to make their lives good for themselves. That hardwork and determination make things happen and that the world goes around because of people that try their best. And okay, yea, family and friends can help your work ethic and determination, but you have to work hard to keep those relationships.
“Okay,” he sighs, walking forward. He passes her and walks the door, knowing that they will probably get in major trouble for this, before he turns the handle. The door opens easily, just a small creak coming from the hinges. Dean scans the room, looking for the new crazy.
It takes him a minute, but eventually he spots a person balled up in the corner, their white, mandatory pajamas blending into the wall. The only thing giving the away is the mess of dark hair resting on the person’s knees.
“Hello?” Anna says, her voice suddenly soothing. The person in the corner didn’t respond, didn’t even flinch. Anna inches her way closer, moving extremely slow. “Hey, are you okay?” she asks, crouching down in the middle of the floor so she’s at the guy’s eye level. The guy shakes his head without looking up.
“What’s wrong?” Anna asks, looking back at Dean and motioning for him to come closer too. He obliges and crouches beside her, glaring at her while he does.
The guy looks up suddenly and Dean’s vision is filled with blue. It’s so bright it’s as if it the guy can see into Dean’s soul. The man’s eyes flit back and forth between Anna and Dean, and then all around the room. He looks scared to death, not that Dean can blame him. He was terrified when he was first brought here too.
Now the he has his head up, the guy doesn’t look as small as Dean had thought. Actually, he looks pretty damn big. Maybe not as muscular as Dean, at least not that Dean can tell, but he does look like he could hold his own.
“Hi, I’m Anna. What’s your name?” Anna asks, her voice gentle. The guy seems to shrink into the corner more, obviously trying to make himself smaller.
“Castiel,” the guy, Castiel, whispers. His eyes grow wider and a look of pure terror erupts across his face. Anna glances at Dean, both of them wearing the same confused expression.
“Castiel?” Anna asks, her voice cautious. Both of them recognize the signs of hallucinations-- Dean from personal experience. Castiel sits frozen, his breathing becoming erratic. He’s staring behind Anna and Dean, not looking at anything specific.
Dean feels a wave of sympathy for the guy, knowing how scary it is when you have hallucinations. He moves forward slowly until he’s crouching right in front of Castiel.
“Cas? Hi, my name’s Dean. It’s okay, what you’re seeing, it’s not real,” he says, his voice soothing. Castiel looks up and his eyes focus on Dean for a moment, the fear on his face showing his disbelief that Dean’s real. Dean drops his hand slowly to take Cas’s in his own.
“Aw, look. Dean’s flirting with his new boyfriend,” Alastair laughs. Dean grits his teeth and tries to ignore him.
“Cas, can you feel my hand?” Dean asks, squeezing Cas’s hand tightly. He presses Cas’s hand up to his chest, right where his heartbeat is. “Can you feel my pulse? I’m real, Cas, not them” he says with finality, mimicking the way Anna does when she pulls him back into reality. Castiel nods, swallowing hard.
“I believe you,” Castiel says after a minute, his voice rough. “Sorry. What did you say your names were, again?”
“That’s Anna,” he gestures over to her. She’s sitting indian style on the floor now, her hands in her lap. “And I’m Dean. What’s the matter, Cas? You kinda zoned out there,” he asks. Castiel looks down with curiosity at where their hands are still joined. Dean drops his hand, a blush rising into his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Sorry.”
“It’s no problem. And I- uh, I see things. Um-- terrible things,” Castiel says nervously. Dean nods, understanding. “Like uh, monsters. I sometimes hear hi-- well, noises. I’m sorry for making so much noise before. I just didn’t- my brother brought me here.”
Castiel’s shoulders sag and tears well up in his eyes. Dean tenses; he hates to see people cry. He used to see Sam cry all of the time before-- he hates to see people cry.
It makes him uncomfortable and honestly, more irritable than usual, if that’s possible.
Taking a deep breath, he turns to Anna and looks at her with wide eyes. She knows how he is with emotions and he hopes that she will take the lead on this. Lucky for him, she gets the message loud and clear.
“It’s okay Castiel, we don’t have to talk about that right now,” Anna says kindly. Dean envies her; she always knows the perfect thing to say. He, unfortunately, is the complete opposite in which he always says the wrong thing. Always.
Cas nods, looking minimally better, relieving Dean immensely. He doesn’t trust himself not to go off today.
“I apologize,” Castiel says, his voice a little stronger. “I just don’t like the thought of being alone,” he continues, his eyes dropping back to the floor. Dean looks back at Anna questioningly and gets a half-shrug in return.
He takes Cas’s hand again and squeezes it gently, earning back Castiel’s attention.
“Well, you don’t need to worry,” Dean starts, “with us around, you’ll be begging for some alone time.” The corners of Cas’s lips turn up into a small smile that weirdly makes Dean smile.
“Come on now brother, don’t get attached. You know everyone you like ends up dead,” a strong voice says in a thick, kind, southern accent. “It’s a wonder Anna’s not dead yet.”
Dean pulls his hand out of Cas’s and covers his ears. He rocks back so he’s sitting on his heels, nearly falling on his ass. He shakes his head and mumbles, willing the voice to go away. This one is one of the worst; it’s friendly and loveable, but always says things that hurt Dean with the truth behind them.
Weirdly enough, this voice actually seems to care about Dean’s well being.
“Benny, not now. Please, not now,” Dean mutters under his breath, over and over again. He buries his head between his knees, trying anything to get Benny to disappear. He can hear Cas and Anna talking, but can’t focus in on what they’re saying.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dean can see the familiar shape of Benny walking over to him. He shuffles away, bumping into Anna as he goes, until eventually he is against the wall. He can hear Anna and Castiel’s voices, but their words are muffled as if they are underwater.
“Just go away, Benny. I don’t want you here,” Dean shouts, his voice echoing off of the pristine walls. He buries his head in his hands and attempts to hide from the bearded man walking towards him.
“Now brother, no need to act like that. I’m just lookin’ out for ya,” Benny says, crouching down in front of him. Dean pushes back into the corner, shrinking as small as he can. Benny reaches out and wraps a hand around Dean’s wrist, his grip loose enough that Dean could probably wiggle out if he wanted to.
“After all, I do keep some of them at bay,” Benny says, flashing a smile that exposes pointed teeth. As he says this, a man comes up behind him with black goo gushing out of his mouth. Benny turns around and pulls a knife out of the back of his jeans, using it to cut of the guys head. Dean flinches at the sound of the knife cutting through flesh and looks down at the floor where the guy drops, lifeless.
The body disappears instantly, any trace of the guy’s existence gone.
“You-- you killed him!” Dean yells, panic forcing its’ way through his veins. Benny grins before leaning forward to tower over Dean. He raises the knife up, as if to kill Dean as well. “No, please! No, no, please,” Dean whispers.
Then, quick as he had appeared, Benny isn’t there anymore. Instead, Anna is leaning over Dean, her hands cupping his face as she speaks in a soothing tone
“Dean, it’s okay. It’s just me and Castiel here, alright? Nobody is going to hurt you,” she says, her eyes looking into Dean’s with concern. Dean nods and slumps back against the wall with a thump. He hears a rustle of fabric from behind Anna and peeks around her, spotting Castiel shifting to sit with his legs crossed.
Castiel’s blue eyes meet Dean’s and are filled with concern, which Dean considers strange since they just met.
“Are you okay?” Castiel asks in his deep tone, his head tilting to the side as he squints his eyes at the same time. Dean forces down a huffed laugh at how bird-like the action makes Castiel look.
Forcing himself to not sound like an asshole, Dean replies, “Yea, Cas. I’m fine. Sorry-- about, ya know. Sometimes I, uh, hear things too.” Castiel nods in understanding, which Dean expected. Of course he knows, Dean and Anna walked in on him having an episode not ten minutes ago.
“Dean,” Anna murmurs, getting his attention. “Who was it this time?”
Dean shrugs, unsure of what to tell her. He has told her of every single person he sees, but he always leaves out the part about the monsters. She has enough shit to deal with without him piling more crazy on top of his crazy.
It doesn’t help that she’s majorly religious. Or she was, before she came down with her mental illness. Her father is a preacher at a church in Iowa, so naturally she was born and raised around the Bible. But, once she started hearing ‘demons’, or so her father called them, her parents sent her to the mental hospital in Kansas to rid their lives of the devil.
Or so she says.
They really said they just wanted her to get better, but everyone who has ever heard those words know they aren’t true, or the person saying them wouldn’t have to justify admitting their loved ones and leaving immediately. They’d be here, through all of it.
Not that Dean blames Bobby for not coming to see him. He knows how hard it was on everybody when Sam died, hell, he went postal. So, he can understand that Bobby didn’t want to see Dean’s mind slowly slip away. Dean didn’t want him to see it either.
But, Anna has been with Dean through all it. Even when he first got here, she was just there . When he was scared and anxious and just wanted it to be over, she was there. Hell, he’s pretty sure she kept him from killing himself, because when he got here, he’d wanted to die.
He got over it though. Because of Anna.
With that in mind, he tells her the truth. “It was Benny,” he admits, his voice quiet. She nods and looks at him, silently asking for more information. “He was, uh-- different this time. More, I don’t know-- aggressive.”
She nods again and runs a thumb across his cheek.
“I’m sorry, honey,” she says, her voice soothing, as always. He leans into the touch, revelling in the warmth of her hand. He would never say this out loud, but he craves human touch. He knows that may be weird, not that it’s any weirder than hearing people, but he does.
He glances past her and makes eye contact with Cas again and offers him a reassuring smile, which Castiel returns hesitantly.
Anna stands up straight once again just as the three hear a shout from down the hallway.
“Dean Winchester? Where are you?” a female voice says, echoing off the walls. Anna and Dean share a glance before she helps him up.
“Well, that’s our cue,” Dean says quickly, brushing himself off and turning to Castiel. “See ya around Cas. Stay sane.”