For a moment he was nothing, a void as wide and expansive as the sky. He didn't know who, what or where he was; only a sense of peace rippled through his being. This is what it's like before being born, he thought...
This lasted a moment before the knowledge that he was drowning slithered into his mind. It was an unwelcome reality, one that he wanted to ignore. He could die here and maybe that would be for the best. He had done so much damage. He had betrayed his friends, his family. He had no home.
The thought was far away, a whisper from across a quiet room, but in the emptiness that was his mind it was startlingly clear. He thrashed in the water, lungs burning for air and suddenly his body and mind were not his own.
With a huge force of will he kicked and struggled as the darkness that ringed him closed in and he knew no more.
"It's down the corridor, first door you come to on your right." Amelia smiled at the young woman who squinted down the hall nervously. The girl was here for her music recital, violin case clutched in hand. Amelia looked at her encouragingly and patted her shoulder. "You'll be ok, trust me. You better not keep them waiting. Good luck."
The girl nodded and walked down the corridor and was gone. Amelia sighed and sat back down behind the reception desk. She had been working here for a few months and had seen many nervous musicians and dancers. She always felt a flush of sympathy for them but also a strange pang of jealousy. Nerves before a test that decided their professional future was the worst fear they'll likely experience and for that they had no idea how lucky they were.
This job was a keystone for her, something stable and normal that somehow existed along with the peculiarities she now finds herself living with. For instance she keeps a packet of salt with her wherever she goes and makes sure that Claire carries some with her to school. Though her daughter was certainly more hesitant to take those "crazy" precautions that she follows.
It's been over a year now, a year since she had seen him. She sometimes finds herself imagining what would happen if he had never left and as her desires and longing lead down impossible paths she would scold herself for being foolish. She had a life of her own to live and that wouldn't be possibly if she kept looking back for what was gone.
"He's not coming back."
Amelia turned to her work colleague sitting beside her and smiled, shaking her head. "Nothing Paul, talking to myself. Again."
"Not a good sign."
Amelia shrugged. "I'm never bored."
"Well as long as you don't start having full conversations with yourself we're all...sir? Can I help you?" Paul was looking over the reception desk, his eyes wide with shock. Amelia turned and blinked, the setting sun in her eyes. It had turned the figure in front of them into a silhouette. He seemed to be pointing at them. He spoke.
"Wife? My wife?" He was soaking wet, his suit dripping water all over the floor. For a moment she wondered if he had fallen into the river outside and dragged himself out. Or been dragged out. She narrowed her eyes as he shuffled closer and found herself getting to her feet. He looked like he had been in a fight, blood running down his skin and soaking into his clothes. He was a few feet before them, swaying alarmingly, before Amelia formed the words that were screaming in her head.
His eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed. Amelia was by his side in seconds, clutching at his wet suit with pale shaking hands. As she checked to see if he was breathing Paul called for an ambulance. Amelia leaned close to his face. The whites of his eyes were visible below his eye lashes but she could feel short, shallow breaths against her cheek. She said his name again, cupping his face and his eyes began to flicker open and he was suddenly looking at her in great confusion.
"You're my wife?" His voice was croaky, rough.
"Yes, yes. It's me Jimmy." She brushed his damp hair back, wondering where the blood was coming from. She caught him frowning and froze. Tentatively she leaned very close and whispered so only he could hear. "It is you, isn't it? Or is it...Castiel?" She pulled back to look at his face but he had fallen unconscious and her question was left unanswered.
Frightened and confused she clutched tightly at the body of her husband as the sound of sirens drew ever closer.
I didn't like the way that Castiel/Jimmy's story was concluded on the show (at least for now I hope) so I wrote this. I've wanted to write "what happens if Jimmy returns but Amelia is unsure if it's really him" for a long, long time now lol.
I might update with more but if I do just to let any possible readers know that it will be sporadic, sorry.