Broken

Chapter Four

I blinked a couple of times, and looked off to the side, to avoid any awkwardness. That was weird. I have no idea what just happened— but it felt good. I looked back up to him, and he was staring up at the ceiling. He looked completely out of it. Like if he was in a different universe. He kept his concentration only at the ceiling, shutting everything else out. I looked up to see what he was looking at, but saw nothing of import. Just a blank color.

"Castiel, can you tell me about what you saw? That night?" I asked again. He still kept looking at the ceiling. I waited a bit, at least for some type of response.

"I saw dark." He replied, finally, after a couple of minutes.

"Yes. It was nighttime. Did you see anything considering the murder?" I added, making my question more specific. He looked down to the floor, and then back up again, tilting his head.

"Stars come out at nighttime..." he said softly. I sighed.

"Yes, Castiel. Stars do come out at nighttime. Did you hear what I said?"

"It shined. It shined like stars." He continued. He made no sense to me. Was he doing this on purpose, or.. was he trying to tell me something? I need to try a different approach. Something toward his interest.

"Have you ever seen stars Castiel?" I changed the subject. This made him look at me—finally. He stared at me for a bit, then drifted his attention elsewhere. He seemed lost in a huge room. Like if he was searching for something, or trying to figure out, or some impossible math problem. "Castiel?" I called him again. He faced me once more.

"No. I don't go outside. Meg says I can't." He replied. I gathered enough courage to take a few steps closer.

"When's the last time you've stepped outside? Breathed in actual oxygen? Smelled grass, or rain? Feel real sunlight?" I kept asking. He stared at me, like a computer searching through many files. And I waited, paitently.

"Thirty." He spoke, positive of the number.

"Days?"

"Years." He corrected me. That was a slap in the face. He's been on here that long? And not once stepped outside in that amount of time? How could he even be considered human without making any contact with the real world? "I was enrolled here when I was eight." Castiel added, looking at me with disappointed eyes.

"That's awful," I commented. "I would go nuts if I never saw the world for that long." Castiel nodded, and sat back down in his chair. He looked at his legos again. How in order they were. How they were kept in a straight line, and each had the same number of legos, each the same color. It was amazing how lost in thought he could get. How he could escape into his own mind, and think about anything. I walked over and put my hand on his shoulder. Immidately, he pulled from my grasp and stumbled backward, making his chair fall. He kept a distance, and panted lightly. I looked at him, my hands up in caution. He backed up to the wall, staring at me with fear and discomfort. I got the idea he didn't like to be touched. "Sorry. I won't touch you. I was trying to get your attention." 

"You could have called my name," Castiel responded, lowering his eyes to the floor. "I would have answered." I didn't respond. I obviously needed to do some research on autism, because I am not getting this.

"You haven't answered my question about the murder, about what you saw." I finally said, breaking the silence. He hesitated to answer. And he kept his eyes anywhere else but me. "I need to know this, what you know. So I can get my job done, and bring justice to that innocent girl." I added, hoping that it would persuade him to tell me. He licked his bottom lip, and he kept fidgeting his fingers. Something tells me what he saw, was traumatizing.