Hey guys! This is chapter three. Some of you may have noticed that I've changed the title of the story to 'Waking Hours'... that's because I've edited the first two chapters. I wasn't happy with the first one at all, so I tweaked it. Nothing major has changed, besides the fact that Ara and Cas don't share their philosophical views within the first five minutes of meetings. That felt a little forced and fake to me, so I edited it out and changed things around a bit. The cliff notes if you don't want to go back and read:

Arael meets Cas in a local, organic market where she volunteers to pass the time. After losing her job, she figures she should do more than sit around her house, moping, eating and watching bad porn.

Castiel can still zap around. I'm trying to be as true to the show as usual and was having a hard time working in where in his state of Falling this story started. Chapter One begins a couple of days after they get back from 1979. Cas, Dean and Sam are all crammed into a motel room because Castiel is weak, and on top of that, the Winchesters cannot find any cases. Tensions are running high, arguments are being had, and Cas leaves the motel, beginning the story :)

That's basically it. I changed a couple of words in the second chapter, but nothing major :P I'm more happy with this version of events, and I hope you are, too. Sorry for any confusion... and hopefully you enjoy the third chapter

Last but certainly not least: thank you so much to everybody who favourited and read, especially to krikanalo and the misery chick for reviewing!

HOUR THREE

Arael stretched, fingertips hitting the headboard as she groaned, eyes fluttering open. Her room was painted golden in the morning light and the young woman smiled sleepily as last night's activities came crawling back at the edges of her consciousness. She turned to her bedfellow, grin quickly morphing into a frown.

He wasn't there.

Biting her lip, Ara tried to swallow the panic that crawled up her throat. Who said he left? He could just as easily be in the bathroom, or watching TV or in the kitchen. He seemed like the kind of guy who'd make breakfast after an amazing night… A guy like Cas wouldn't just leave. Not after all that. He was probably making her breakfast.

So, Ara shrugged on a baggy sweatshirt long enough to cover her posterior, slid on some undies, and tried, unsuccessfully, not to get her hopes up.

But he wasn't in the bathroom.

And he wasn't in the TV room.

And Arael was met with an empty kitchen.

Which was logical, she thought, trying to avoid the sinking sensation in her gut. It was a one-night stand. Granted, a mind-blowing one, but one nonetheless. This is what she had wanted, wasn't it? Ara squeezed her eyes shut. Stupid. She was stupid. He probably acted clueless and endearing to get every girl he'd ever pulled… Because holy hell, was his learning curve ever insane. She leaned on the kitchen counter and sighed, looking at her coffee machine as if it had committed a personal offence. Coffee would make her feel better, she wanted coffee… but she didn't want to have to make it. Sucking it up, the brunette climbed up on the countertop, reaching for the ground beans. She'd sit outside today, she decided, on the porch at the front. It had a nice view and she could read a book. That'd get her mind off things. Ara bit her lip. She wasn't upset at him, not really. Technically, he hadn't done anything wrong. She was more upset at herself.

Putting in a new filter, ground coffee, water, and pressing the 'on' button, the young woman made her way outside. Arael had wraparound porch, and one of those swings to go with it. She'd bought some pillows for it a while ago so it was especially comfortable and just so happened to be her favourite place on her small property.

Speaking of the porch, a cold panic took her. The brunette sincerely hoped her car was till there. All Cas had wanted was a ride in the first place, right? What was to stop him from leaving with her crappy little Honda? Last night, she had just left everything where it lay: wallet, keys, clothes… everything. In fact, her t-shirt was still decorating the hallway floor.

Getting to the front door, Ara cursed to find that it wasn't properly closed. When she slipped out, she almost had a heart attack:

Castiel.

Cas wasn't in the bathroom, or watching TV, or making breakfast. He wasn't stealing her car. He was sitting on her porch swing, looking at her with a small smile that was altogether nervous and excited and content. "Good morning."

"Hi!" the young woman replied, quickly adjusting her tone self-consciously. Was it weird to be relieved? She didn't want to seem over-eager (even though she most definitely was). "I… thought you'd left."

The angel shook his head, completely still despite the fact that his vessel wanted to fidget uncontrollably. Why was she asking that? Did she want him to leave? "You looked so peaceful. I didn't want to disturb your slumber."

His blue eyes seemed to pierce her soul, and Ara was suddenly made aware that she hadn't looked in a mirror. Normally, she had no reason to… But the young woman suddenly found herself wanting to look pretty for Castiel, and she was certain her head looked like a rat's nest. She blushed faintly. "Um, thanks. Do you, uh, do you want anything? I'm making coffee. And I have tea, and bread. I think I've got some eggs and Bisquick, so I could make some pancakes. Or, I mean, if you just want eggs, I'm really only good at scrambled, but I can get away with over-easy."

Cas recognized the beginnings of hunger start to gnaw at the edge of his stomach and tried not to think of how uneasy it made him feel. He didn't want to eat. Eating meant he was animal, that he needed sustenance and his vessel was no longer just a form he'd taken. However, the angel's growling stomach insisted upon being fed, and Castiel looked up at his companion, not only unsure amidst the selection, but hating that fact. "I… don't know. Bread?" Sam and Dean ate bread all the time.

"How about toast with butter?" Ara suggested. "I make a mean toast with butter."

"Yes, please." He had heard Dean talking about toast, once.

"I'll be right back." She made her way to the door, unsure of how she was supposed to act in this particular situation. Did they hug? Did they kiss? Did they just ignore everything that had happened the night before? Cas called her name and Arael paused, turning back. "Yeah?"

He was nervous but stood up anyway, walking to stand right in front of her. "I… I would like to kiss you. If that's… if that's alright."

Ara found herself grinning stupidly. "I think I could be alright with that," she replied playfully, leaning forward a little. "But you don't need to ask permission. Not for this. For this, you ask a different way."

The young woman moved towards him torturously slow, nose brushing against his as her grin broke into a smile at the way he mimicked her actions, looking at her altogether curious and rapt. And then she stopped, painfully close to his mouth. "You pause," she breathed, looking at him through slitted lids. "You wait to see if the other person moves away. And if they don't…"

Ara pressed her mouth to his, eyes fluttering shut as he hummed contentedly. He immersed his fingers in her hair as her hands moved to rest on the waistband of his pants, inside his trench coat. Cas was the one to pull away, peppering her lips with small kisses as he did. He then wrapped his lover in a hug, enjoying her company, but anxious at how much he seemed to want the physical comfort she provided him with.

A small voice told him that every minute he spent with her was a moment wasted.

A second voice told him that this was dangerous. Despite being cut off from Heaven, he was still an angel, and he was still prohibited to engage in coitus with a mortal.

A third voice told him to fuck it all.

For now, the angel went with the selfish third counsel, despite the fact that he felt it was wrong. If he was going to be living on Earth, some part of him, the part that was slowly growing, figured that he may as well do it properly.

So, Castiel followed Ara to the kitchen, and watched curiously as she made four toasts. He watched as she placed bread into a toaster, took it out golden, and spread butter on it. He watched as she placed two in a plate for him, sliding it in his direction, before taking a hungry bite of her own.

He did the same.

It was pleasantly crunchy and warm, and the angel enjoyed the slippery, salty, fatty taste of the butter, licking his lips to cherish every crumb and morsel of food. He was starving, and it was so good…

Ara watched with a raised brow as Castiel devoured his toast. He ate as if this was the first meal he'd had in a millennium. The brunette voiced this, smiling as he stopped cold, cheeks round and full. He swallowed, looking at her with all the seriousness of a two year-old handing an adult a banana phone. "Almost. I had ice cream last night."

Putting some more bread into the toaster, the young woman grinned, not understanding that he wasn't joking. Cas continued, brows knitting together. "It is curious though, that I'm so hungry."

"Right. Why would you be starving after a night of rousing physical activity?"

A nod from the man across from her as he took another bite of toast and swallowed. Again, he looked her in the eye seriously, though this time, he seemed relieved… As if he was glad that somebody finally understood. "That was the exact question I had asked myself."

Ara buttered another toast and handed it to the angel, continuing to munch on her own. She wasn't sure if he was being serious, but figured that if he was, she'd just add that to the pile of ever-growing Weird Things About Castiel and move on. So what if he didn't get sarcasm? "What are your plans for the day?"

Plans. Cas suddenly sat up completely straight, eyes wide. The Winchesters. He had completely forgotten about the freaking Winchesters. For the first time in his long existence, Castiel felt pure, unbridled panic. Free panic. How could he forget Sam and Dean? They were his responsibility. The fate of the world rested on the shoulders of those two boys… And he just forgot about them?! "I need to go." For all Cas knew, they had killed each other by now.

Which, he supposed, was one way to avert the apocalypse.

"O-Oh. Okay." Ara tried not to seem put out by his abrupt manner and faked a smile. Her partner paid her no mind even if he did see it, shoving an impressive quantity of bread into his mouth before wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He started for the door.

"Cas, wait. I promised you a ride."

Five minutes later, the pair were in the car, Castiel staring out the window quietly. His entire body was tensed, and the young woman bit her lip. She wasn't good at these sorts of things. Was it all right to ask what was wrong? Or should she just let it be? I mean, she didn't really know him, and it wasn't like she'd ever see him again… The latter made her sad, but she shook the emotion off quickly. It was a one-night stand for God sakes. Time to put on her big girl pants and get over it.

In the end, Ara asked the question anyway: "You okay?"

He didn't hear her, too panicked and confused and scared to do much else but think. He had never forgotten anything before. Ever. And he had never felt such an onslaught of negative emotion… It was crippling. All of it was crippling. Was he losing his mind? Did sex make you forget things? No, that was ridiculous, people had sex all the time and they seemed perfectly fine. Was it Ara? Was she some sort of… thing? A witch? No, he would have known. He still knew that much, at least.

He wanted to pound his head against the nearest hard surface in frustration. He wanted answers. And, more than anything, he wanted to forget about everything and wrap himself in Ara.

Which only succeeded in making him worry tenfold.

Of her part, Arael persisted. "Cas, are you all right?"

He did hear her this time, though the angel found himself nodding his head instead of shaking it. A lie. Why was he lying to her? He wasn't okay. Not even a little bit. And yet, the lie came so easily. He didn't want to trouble her.

Ten minutes later, they were parked in the same space as the night before, though this time, everything had a very business-like air. Cas turned to his companion, a small close-lipped smile adorning his face. "Thank you, Ara. I had a wonderful time." He then gave her the quickest peck in the history of stolen kisses, and was out of the car, entering his hotel room without looking back.

Ara bit her lip, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as she watched him go. "Bye."

Pulling into her driveway, the young woman got out of the car, taking the newspaper from the porch and turning to the Job section automatically. She sat on her swing for a good ten minutes before going inside. Ara had never been one for sentimentality, but it was embarrassing how much she wanted to see him again.

Flopping onto the couch with a groan, the young woman took a highlighter from her coffee table and began the routine of circling jobs. Two and a half decades of schooling and this is what she wound up with: random babysitting jobs and odd waitressing gigs. She needed to move away; there was no real work for her in this part of the States… But ever since she'd lost her primary source of income, she'd had nothing. Not to mention that finding anything in the current economy was a feat in itself. She had been lucky: straight out the gate, another lab had approached her, asking if she'd join their research team… but Ara had lasted two weeks before getting fired. It turns out that the boss does not take kindly to changing the direction of current projects because they logically don't make any sense.

So now, Ara volunteered at the local community garden and market to pass the time. She had no prospects, and no way to move to a place where job opportunities in her field were easier to come by. Thank God her mother had completely owned the property on which she was currently living, because Ara was already living paycheck to paycheck.

Circling an add for an ice cream shop, the young woman bit her lip, smiling as she thought back to the previous evening, especially when Cas had had the cold treat on his nose. Immediately after that thought, the young woman scrunched her eyes shut, throwing her head against a pillow.

She was screwed.

Castiel, on the other hand, was doing great. Well, as great as an angel in the midst of his first mental breakdown could be doing. Despite the fact that he'd been met with no skepticism as per his whereabouts the night before, the angel could feel himself unraveling. This was probably due to the fact that, though he had tried, Cas could not manage to truthfully tell Sam or Dean where he'd been the previous evening. And though he liked having Ara exclusively to himself, Castiel had an issue with lying… especially to the older Winchester.

Besides, some part of him desperately wanted to tell somebody about his sexual exploits.

Frowning, the angel looked at himself in the motel bathroom mirror, not entirely sure he liked what he saw, let alone if he could recognize it. Cas was changing. He was eating, sleeping, burping, and starting to smell ripe, as Dean had eloquently put it.

He was becoming human, and he was not ready.

Closing the bathroom door, the angel shed his newly filthy clothes, feeling different about being naked than he previously had. It wasn't that he had been uncomfortable before… He just felt more comfortable now. Proud, even. More confident.

Fiddling with the water as he turned it on, Castiel spent the next ten minutes trying to figure out how the shower worked and how warm he wanted the water. The angel then spent another five minutes disrobing, and took his sweet time underneath the warm spray, lathering his body with a newfound curiosity and perspective. He could remember Arael touching his chest and stomach in the exact places he was rubbing soap on his body. It made him appreciate his human form; look upon it with respect rather than just a state of being.

"Cas! What, did you drown or something? You're going to use all the hot water, dude!"

The angel turned off the tap, stepped out of shower, and promptly opened the door, causing both Winchesters to shield their eyes and protest loudly. Castiel was confused. "Cas, man, get a towel!"

"I don't understand," the angel frowned. "Do we not all possess the same genetalia?"

"Yeah, but—Cas, just put on a goddamn towel. I can't explain this to you when you're naked, man." Awkwardly, Castiel wrapped himself in a towel and exited the bathroom, plumes of steam following in his wake. Dean looked at him incredulously. "You don't walk naked into a room full of dudes, Cas. Ever. After a shower, you use a freaking towel and put on some clothes."

"I don't understand."

Rolling his eyes, the older Winchester walked away, reaching into his duffel for some fresh clothing. He handed the articles to the angel. "You just don't do it, okay? Nobody wants to see your junk."

"I do not see how useless rubbish has anything to do with my vessel."

"Junk," Dean replied. "You know, your… manly parts."

"You mean my penis."

"Really?"

From the opposite end of the room, Sam interjected, eyes trained on the piece of paper in front of him. "Hey guys, I found something. You ever hear of two people eating each other to death?"

The older Winchester's brows almost touched his hairline and he looked at the angel expectantly. Cas shook his head. "That's not something I have ever encountered or heard of. Cannibalism, yes, there were many cultures that felt the act of consuming another human's flesh was-"

"Okay. Thanks for the history lesson, but I dropped out of school for a reason. Sam?"

"Not to far from here, maybe a three hour's drive." He looked up form his laptop. "It seems weirder than normal, but is definitely our kind of thing. I… think we should take it."

"You sure you're gonna be alright?" Dean asked.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Seriously? Did we not just finish ignoring each other after having this conversation?"

Cas took this opportunity to escape into the bathroom, putting on Dean's clothes and looking at himself in the dirty mirror. The fabric was wash-worn and soft, and though he was certainly tall enough, the angel lacked the muscular girth that the clothing required. He looked small. Like a child playing dress-up.

Looking at his usual trench coat and suit, the angel cocked his head to the side, picking the material up of the ground and looking at it curiously. Maybe he could clean it. Maybe… Cas held the clothing up in front of him, concentrating hard. If he focused, he could feel the atoms vibrating between his fingers.

If he just moved the offending molecules out…

Castiel opened his eyes, finding his vantage point different from when he had closed them. Apparently, he was now lying on the bathroom floor. Frowning, the angel sat up, his vision spotting as he grabbed his suit jacket. It was clean, but it appeared that he had been knocked unconscious. Slightly panicked, Cas stripped Dean's clothing from body as if they had burned him, sliding on his regular outfit quickly. He felt more comfortable in Jimmy's clothes. More sure of himself. Secure.

Outside, the angel could hear the Winchesters gathering their things.

When Castiel exited the bathroom, neither Sam nor Dean noticed that his clothes had been cleaned, nor had they noticed the small droplet of blood creeping out of his left nostril. When he reached up to rub his nose, the angel looked at the red substance in something akin to curious alarm, getting rid of the offending liquid just as Dean turned around. "You coming with us?"

Was he? Though he knew that the brothers were not in a good place, Cas had to continue his search for God. It was their last hope.

Unbidden, the image of Arael come to mind: the way she smiled at him and kissed him and spoke with him, and the angel was hurled into yet another internal war. He needed to find his Father, this was not an option. The fate of the world depended on his ability to locate God… But he wanted to see Ara again. He liked her. He liked the fact that she made him feel relaxed and safe, that he felt that he could be completely alone in with her despite being on a planet with six billion other people. She was naïve. She was innocent. She was a breath of fresh air.

But Castiel could not allow himself to be distracted, not now, not when so much was at stake. So he attempted to ignore his newfound feelings, instead trying to regain some of his former, colder demeanor. "I must continue my search for God," the angel announced, standing in the middle of the room. "I will be in touch."

And wind rushed past his face, and colours blurred around him, and Cas was tired. He saw China and Alexandria and the Gardens of Babylon dissolve into nothing below him, trying to focus on the task at hand. In all honesty, Castiel was feeling a little hopeless: despite his unwavering Faith, his Father was making it extremely difficult to be found.

He stopped then, acutely aware of where he had landed, if not a little frustrated.

Directly in front of him, past an old Honda station wagon, hung a comfortable-looking porch swing.