Prologue
(Dean’s POV — 3:47 A.M.)
The office was never supposed to feel like this.
At three forty‑seven in the morning, the building should’ve been silent just the hum of the vents, the low buzz of the exit signs, the distant click of the elevator settling for the night. But tonight, the quiet felt wrong. Too heavy. Too aware.
Dean Winchester sat alone at his desk, the glow of his monitor washing his face in cold blue light. His tie was loosened, sleeves rolled up, hair a mess from running his hands through it too many times. He’d been staring at the same spreadsheet for an hour, but none of the numbers were sticking.
Because all he could think about was him.
Castiel Novak.The new hire.The man who walked into the office two weeks ago and somehow rearranged the gravity of Dean’s entire world without even trying.
Dean didn’t understand it. He didn’t want to understand it. But he felt it every time Cas spoke, every time he looked at him with those impossibly blue eyes, every time he stood too close in the break room and Dean forgot how to breathe.
And now… now the hallucinations were starting again.
A soft whisper drifted through the dark hallway behind him.
“Dean…”
Dean froze. His pulse spiked. He didn’t turn around.
Not again.Not tonight.
He squeezed his eyes shut, gripping the edge of his desk until his knuckles went white.
“You’re not real,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re not him.”
But the voice came again closer this time, sharper, dripping with venom that the real Castiel would never use.
“No one will ever love you.”
Dean’s breath hitched. His chest tightened. He forced himself to look up at the reflection in the dark window across from him.
And there it was.
The hallucination.
Castiel but wrong.Eyes too dark.Smile too cruel.A twisted echo of the man Dean was trying so hard not to fall for.
The hallucination tilted its head, mocking him.
“You think he cares about you? You think anyone does?”
Dean swallowed hard, jaw clenching. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run. He wanted to believe none of this was happening.
But the worst part?
Somewhere deep down, a part of him believed the lie.
The lights flickered. The figure vanished.
Dean exhaled shakily, burying his face in his hands.
He didn’t know when it started.He didn’t know why it was happening.He didn’t know how much longer he could hide it.
But he knew one thing:
The real Castiel the quiet, gentle, infuriatingly kind man who smiled at him like he saw something worth saving could never know.
Because if he did…Dean wasn’t sure which version of Castiel he’d lose first.
