A/N: A rather short chapter to start off with, but it is really more of an introduction. There is more to come.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.

The sound of telephone ringing startled her awake. She rolled over and groaned. The worst part of this job was the on-call schedule. You never got a full night's sleep being on-call. And at thirty-nine, she spent way too many years without getting a full night's sleep. Rubbing the heel of her hand in her eye, she looked at the caller ID before answering the phone. "Jerry, this had better be good. The bags under my eyes are already too big to qualify as carry-on luggage for most major airlines and you just woke me from some much needed beauty sleep."

"Aw, I'm sorry Till, but I heard a rumor going around that you had an open bed and I got a guy here that's going to need it."

"Seriously? Tonight?" Tillie Chambers asked incredulously, stifling a yawn. "It's 2 a.m. You can't admit him for the night and give me time to move him in the morning?"

"No, not really," Jerry replied. "Sure the guy has his issues, but nothing that requires an involuntary admission and he sure as hell isn't going to sign himself in."

"Then let him walk," Tillie huffed. "I know it sounds callous, but it wouldn't be the first time you guys let someone go AMA."

"I know, but the guy has no ID, no money, and he has been stirring up just enough trouble that the cops want him off the street. I would owe you big time if you could help me out."

Tillie sighed. "Give me an hour. I'll be there." Tillie grabbed a T-shirt and jeans off the pile on the floor and threw her hair into a ponytail before getting dressed, slipping on some tennis shoes and grabbing her zippered hoodie and her car keys. "I guess I'll sleep some other time," she muttered to herself as she walked out the door.

When she arrived there forty-five minutes later, she didn't even have to ask the attendant at the front desk of the ER which room he was in. All she needed to do was follow the shouting.

"You people are going to regret treating me like this, ya know! When I get my powers back, you'll thank me if the only thing I do is smite your asses! I have been known to do much worse! And why the hell hasn't anyone brought me any chocolate?"

Tillie stopped at a nearby vending machine before entering the room and armed herself with candy. A well-worn veteran at dealing with agitated people, she hoped that giving the guy something he wanted would start them off on the right foot. Or at least shut him up long enough for her to find out what was going on. But nothing could have prepared her for what she saw upon entering the room. It wasn't upturned chairs or the discarded clothes and blankets strewn around the room. That was pretty standard fare when you walked into a psych room in the ER. It wasn't even the fact that the guy was in four-point soft restraints and surround by two goons from security. No, it was who the guy was that threw her for a loop. She did a double take before turning to the man who had actually called in her to deal with this mess.

"Jerry!" she yelled. "What the hell is this? Some kind of practical joke?"

Four pairs of eyes turned to her, all of them just now noticing that she had entered the room.

"Well, hello there doll," the man in restraints said. "Did you come to join my party? I have to say, you're a much better addition than any of these mooks."

Ignoring him, Tillie quickly zipped up her hoodie, hoping no one noticed she was wearing her Pig 'N A Poke T-Shirt. "Jerry, can I have a word outside, please. NOW!"

As she turned to walk out of the room, Jerry quickly followed her.

"What's the deal, Till?" Jerry asked. "Why are you so upset about picking up some guy who needs at bed at your group home?"

"Who is this guy, Jerry?" Tillie demanded. "What's his name?"

"I told you on the phone, he doesn't have any ID," Jerry replied. "And you heard him. He is pretty belligerent. He won't give us a name. What's got you so rattled, Till. Why do you think I am pranking you?"

"Have you looked at the guy, Jer? Doesn't he look the least bit familiar to you at all? Maybe like a certain television actor." she pressed.

"Um, no not really. But I'm more into reality shows. Ya' know I haven't missed an episode of Project Runway or Jersey Shore yet."

Tillie raised a wary eyebrow him. "Fine," she conceded. "Let me make a few phone calls before you start putting your discharge paper work together, though."

As Jerry walked away, Tillie dug her phone out of her pocket. Her first phone call was not a standard middle of the night social work call to make. As it rang, she hoped it wasn't too late, but considering Rachel was out on the west coast and she was at the con, she didn't think she was pushing her luck.

"Till, is that you?" Rachel asked, answering her phone.

"Yeah, Rach, it's me. How's it going?"

"Oh my god Till! It's freaking amazing!" Rachel shouted into the phone. "You should have come out here and stayed with me. I have never been to anything like this before. And this karaoke thing going on tonight is awesome! I would have never guessed that Richard would actually join in. It is so cool!"

"That's great Rachel," Tillie sighed. "I'm glad you're having a good time. You'll have to tell me more about it later."

"So why did you call, Till? It must be like, the middle of the night there."

"Yeah, it is…I just got one of those calls, ya know, and I am stuck at the hospital right now. So I thought I would check on you." It wasn't a complete lie, Tillie thought to herself, but she wasn't going to try to explain to her friend exactly why she had called when wasn't even sure herself. "I need to get going though, Rach. I will talk to you later, 'kay?"

"M'kay. Bye, Till. Try to get some sleep soon," Rachel encouraged her friend before ending the call.

Next Tillie called the group home and had her staff start preparing the extra room so it would ready by the time they got there. Once that was settled, she walked back into the room. She looked at the man in the restraints again. She knew for sure he wasn't, well he wasn't Richard. But he sure as hell looked an awful lot like him. His hair was a lighter shade and those eyes…they were the most disturbing color of amber she had ever seen on a person. It was time to find out just who he was and what problems brought him here.

She walked over to the bed and sat down on it next to him. The security goon looked at her like she was crazy. "I wouldn't do that if I were you ma'am" he suggested.

Tillie ignored him and kept her attention on the man in the bed. She pulled a candy bar out of the pocket of her hoodie. "I heard you wanted some chocolate," she offered.

"Lady, you're either the nicest person in this place, or the worst torturer around," the man answered wiggling his fingers. "I am tied down here and I can't eat that on my own. Unless you want to feed it to me." He looked her in the eyes and wiggled his eyebrows.

Tillie didn't answer him, but set the candy bar on his stomach.

"I guess I am going with torturer, then?" he ventured. But then Tillie started to do untie the restraints on his right hand before opening the wrapper on the candy bar and handing it to him. "I'm glad I got it wrong," he said in between bites. "You are the nicest person around here."

"So, are you willing to tell me how you ended up here," Tillie asked.

"Sweetheart, I am not even sure where here is. The last thing I remember is my brother trying to shiv me over some family feud, and then I wake up in an alley without any of my…" his voice trailing off.

Instinctively, Tillie looked him over for any sign of injury, but didn't see any. "Without what? I heard you yelling when I was in the hallway. You were going on about getting your powers back and smiting people," she pointed out to him. "What was that all about?"

He shook his head. "When I bring that stuff up people seem to think I am crazy," he sighed. "It must have just been a dream."

"Well, I have never used the word crazy when talking to you. And you did sound pretty sure of yourself earlier," Tillie reassured him. "But if you want to talk about it later, just let me know.

It was his turn to look at her like she was crazy. "Now," she asked pointedly, "can you tell me your name?"

"Well," he hesitated. "I've gone by plenty to of names over the years. But you…you doll face, you can call me Gabriel."

A/N: This story was inspired, in part, by Wandering Hitokiri's Problem Girl, here on and candylovinangel's A Graceful Combination over on livejournal. But it is also influenced by my twenty years of working in social services. So I guess there is some self-insert here. But I will say that my main OC, Tillie, will say and do things that I would never do because 1) she is dealing with Gabriel and he would drive anyone to do and say things people would not normally do, and 2) I am probably using this as an opportunity to vent and say things I would never be allowed to say and do as a professional (but have certainly crossed my mind).