He didn't know why, but late at night when the moon was high and all were asleep, he thought of her. His caretaker, and all of her thorny beauty; She was beautiful and strong and dangerous. She was the barbed rose that it didn't hurt to touch.

He rose from his bed, his white loose linen clothes hanging off of his body. His slippers made strange sliding noises as he shuffled down the hallway. He tried to keep that exact image of her in his mind, with the smile and the eyes just like he remembered them.

He turned a corner and found himself in the games room. Tables of board games filled the center, but off to the side was a drawing easel. The lights had been left on, and the supplies were still out, that meant he could draw her. He found himself smiling as he walked to the board.

He picked up the charcoal and slide it across the cream colored canvas. He curved the trail that the dark utensil left—forming the arc of her face. He added her eyes, her beautiful dark enigmatic eyes. Then her sideways smile, the one that reminded you each time you saw it that she was clever and witty and she took you as a joke. He found these small parts of who she was to be amazing. He loved each part of her, and he loved her. She was more than just the sum of her parts.

He moved his hand distorted the line again as he drew her shadowy hair on her head in wavy curls. It tumbled down onto her shoulders, like it did when she took down her bun at the end of each night. He smiled again because she was perfect.

He didn't know where he was, and he didn't like it. She had told him that it was a hospital and that he was sick, but he didn't know why or what caused him to be sick. She told him he had been asleep after he had done something incredibly brave to help his family. He remembered Sam and Dean, and he wondered where they had gone, but lightheartedly reminded himself that surly they would return for him. She looked at him sometimes with her strong loving eyes, and sometimes he caught a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. He broke whenever he saw that, he could only think that perhaps he had done something to let her down. He asked her once and she just replied by telling him it was nothing, but she wished he could be the man he used to be again. Castiel admittedly didn't understand, but he told her that he would try nonetheless.

He moved the charcoal again as he shaped her nose and her ears giving life to his creation, the face baring the resemblance that he had hoped for.

He heard footsteps and she came from around the corner.

"What are you doing up Castiel?" she asked him softly "You should rest."

He smiled and walked over to her, and she led him away from the room and his drawing. But first she saw it and her face lit up scarlet, her cheeks becoming flushed and her eyes widening. She thanked him and he grinned, knowing that he had made her happy.

"Come on my little tree topper." She said to him, pulling him along by his hand.

"I'm coming Meg," he said gently

She left him on his bed in his room, she told him to stay put until the sun came up and to try and rest here. He didn't sleep and he believed that neither did she. But she told him to pretend anyway. She looked at him once more before she left and he sat up straight.

"Did you like it?" he asked in suspense

"Of course I did Clarence." She said as though it was obvious and he felt his heart relax, he had done well.

He didn't know who Clarence was, but still he felt calmed by the name and he accepted it. She put a hand on his shoulder and kissed the top of his head gingerly. He hugged her when she kissed him, and softly wrapped his wings around her.

"I'll see you in the morning."

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