"Has he been saying anything?" Castiel asked, slouching forward in his seat, he heard a page of Crowley's book turn, and glanced over. His ability to read that quickly is baffling. How does he bring enough books to make that a worthwhile pastime?

Amelia's voice came through the phone, "No. He hasn't said a word since you called two days ago."

"Don't allow the inactivity to lower your defenses. Be even more observant." He instructed, and frowned as they pulled into a plaza. He put his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. "Why are we stopping?"

"We've been driving for seven hours, father-of-the-year. I need to stretch my legs, we need to grab food—" Dean pointed at a brightly lit fast food joint that had an Alligator with the words 'MEGA-GATOR MEAT PALACE' in its mouth. "—And you need to get some clothes, and your own freakin' deodorant. You sweat like—I dunno—like a normal sweaty guy, and I'm not about sharing personal items. Like my Old Spice to be mine, okay? There's a Shop-Smart over there, you and Crowl'll get some essentials."

"We have to keep driving." Castiel urged, even as the car came to a stop, and Dean got out with a groan.

With quieter and calmer tones than Sam normally used, Sam climbed out of the car. "Cas, we need a break, half-hour tops. We're doing the best we can, but we're just human… and we can only drive so far before some grub and a bathroom break are priority. "He leaned in through the open door to finish his thoughts. "Half-hour, Cas."

Crowley had silently put away his book, and popped his door open.

Putting the phone back to his ear, Castiel narrowed his eyes at the men abandoning the vehicle. "Apparently we need to rest, urinate, and eat. I will be a half-hour later to arrive because we are 'all human here' which I find to be an appalling excuse." He opened his own door, and swung his legs out. They cramped up, and he groaned a little, stretching them out, feet flat on the pavement. "We should arrive early tomorrow morning."

Amelia's spoke again, her voice crackling through the poor connection they had on the phones. "Just knock on the garage door. That's where I'll be. I'll let you in. Are you going to need anything?"

"Need anything?" Castiel stood up, and his legs immediately went numb, then it felt like little tacks were being shoved through his skin. What did Jimmy call this feeling? Pin and thread? No, needle. Pin and needle.

His vessel's wife clarified, she seemed to be making an effort to be more pleasant during this discussion than the last. "I need to know if I should have anything ready for you. Magic rocks, or moss, or a hand-blown glass statue of Saint Francis or…"

"I don't… think any of those will be necessary." Crowley was circling the car, and nodded Castiel towards a giant store that had streams of people coming and going from it. "I need to go. I have to buy deodorant and pants."

There was a pause. "Oh-okay."

"I don't fit in Dean's." Castiel attempted to help the woman understand his current situation. Sam's clothing is too large, Dean's hips are too small… I would be better able to function in clothing that fit properly. His current plaid button up had to be rolled up to keep the sleeves from falling over his hands, and he felt very constricted in the black jeans he was currently wearing.

"His pants…" Amelia said in a tone he could not identify.

"Yes. They are rubbing in uncomfortable places." He responded honestly, and noticed Crowley's approach halt, and his gaze travel to a certain area of Castiel's body. "I have to go."

"I'll—okay, I'll hold down the fort until you get here then." Amelia's voice was replaced by the sound of the phone beeping. He checked, and the call was disconnected.

Crowley's attention had shifted, and Castiel looked around for the Winchester brothers. They were already nowhere to be seen. Crowley motioned to the crowded store and held out some sunglasses. "Come on, skinny jeans, let's get you into something more comfortable."

Following the former demon, Castiel stayed a few steps behind him and slipped the phone into his pocket. The sheer number of people, unafraid to bump into, shove, or shout at anyone too close, it made him feel very small. He tucked in close behind Crowley, and let the man stride with purpose towards the clothing section. The store was looking a little bare. Assuming things are as bad as the media made them out to be… this store is actually doing very well. As they walked, they passed a small display, and Castiel was distracted by the content. Fuzzy, green, and only a dollar for a bag of four, Castiel grabbed them. He wasn't sure why. I need to eat one of these. As a human, I must try new things. And that was the only explanation he managed for himself.

He caught up with Crowley, and witnessed the disgust on the man's face. "It's a good thing I hate you, or else I wouldn't dream of letting anyone wear this garbage." Holding up a black shirt that was almost see-through it was such a low thread count, the man tossed it over the rack and rolled his eyes. "That's the problem with—"

"I don't care." Castiel cut him off, and motioned to all the clothing he knew nothing about. "Assist me in selecting something that doesn't cut off blood-flow, or go away and leave me to it."

Crowley's eyes produced little creases along the sides, and he wrinkled his nose, as if he had found the comment adorable. "Just trying to give us a nice chat, Tyra." He looked Castiel up and down, and then grabbed a shirt off the rack. It was a mottled shade of grey and had a black cross on the sleeve. "That should fit."

"Shall I try it on?" Castiel asked, unsure how this was supposed to happen.

"I have just a little experience with clothing, but sure, why not doubt me? After all, only was a tailor all my living days." He grabbed some pants off a shelf, after another glance at Castiel. "You do a spin for me, love?"

"A spin?"

Crowley put his hands over his head mimicking a ballerina, and nodded, smiling as if enjoying Castiel's discomfort. "Yes, I'm sure even in your Forest of Gump know how to accomplish it by turning around slowly."

"I don't understand how this is pertains to the purchasing of clothing." However, Castiel obeyed, and slowly walked in a tight circle, attempting to watch Crowley as he did so. The man's lewd expression had vanished, and he looked professional, detached from the situation, as if their rivalry and distaste for one another no longer mattered.

"Overestimating your bum, I think." He put the jeans back on the shelf, and took another pair. "Here we are, try these on." Turning to look at a selection of black shirts, Crowley began rifling through them quickly, making disappointed noises as he felt the fabrics.

Castiel pulled Sam's shirt over his head, and put it down on the floor along with the furry emerald fruit he had needed. He went to remove his pants when Crowley turned around, and his expression made Castiel freeze. They stared at one another. Castiel pulled his hands away from the button below his navel. I have come to know that expression. "I am doing something wrong, aren't I?"

"Have you never heard of a dressing room?" Crowley's face appeared almost pitying, and Castiel felt his face warm in shame.

The moment I congratulate myself on having obtained one matter of being human, I fail at another.

"No." Castiel hastily pulled Sam's shirt back on, and picked up the items that he had set on the floor.

Crowley winced, and motioned for Castiel to move further away. "Go be useless where I can't be embarrassed for you."

Bitterness flourished in his heart, and Castiel turned around, and walked away. I am avoiding the first blow to that man's jaw. Dean trusts him, and so there must be some redeeming factor to him.

He quickly found himself in a small area filled with tanks of fish. Most of them were empty, but the few that had some left had different species names and prices taped to the corner of the tank on a big pink starburst. He stood near one with little orange fish with bubbled-out cheeks, and watched them swim.

If I am to separate Saul from Claire, he will immediately alert every angel to my location. Our angel-proofing the house does not fire-proof it, or mean we can hide in there forever. We will need to have an escape plan. A pull in his chest alerted Castiel to the need to readjust the power he was containing, but it was not strong, and he just waited for it to subside. He felt the burning heat, but this time it was at the base of his neck, it was still dull, so he acknowledged it, and ignored it. The bubble-cheeked fish bobbled to the top to sup on floating food, and Castiel watched them lazily swim to-and-fro. If Jimmy does return, how will we live? Conflict, and we ravage the vessel from the inside, compromise, and we will continually vary between the two of us, that will not be wise either. I… I need Jimmy to leave. I need him to finish his unfinished business, and to evacuate the body. He… is the one that is technically dead. Castiel was not sure of this however, because for some reason Jimmy's personality had survived all of those resurrections. He never came back as just an occupied meat-suit. He came back as an occupied vessel.

The bright orange fish tilted strangely, and Castiel knew the sensation well enough to straighten up and wait for it to pass. Jimmy?

Amelia. Claire.

We are driving there. It is not as easy as it might be if I had wings.

Hurt.

I am aware of that. Castiel acknowledged the pain, and the burst of heat down his neck. He felt his skin redden.

Claire. Amelia. Jimmy's impressionistic words became a clear voice in his head, and Castiel pressed a hand to the fish tank to keep his footing.

"Please don't touch the glass, mate." A bleach-blonde with a self-important swagger and a smattering of smiley face buttons across his bright green vest came over.

Castiel pulled his hand away, and wiped it on his pant leg. "I am sorry. I didn't—"

"Sure. You gotta clean the glass? No, it's me. No one ever thinks of how they'd feel if a giant hand came and—" The man pulled out a rag and began wiping the surface clean of fingerprints.

"Cas! Cas!" Dean jogged over, he looked relieved, and more awake than he had when they had pulled into the plaza. "Where you been? You took off from Crowley, this place is like a freakin' maze, and you've been gone a solid ten minutes, we've been lookin' all over. Idiot."

Sam spotted them, and with Crowley a few steps behind, they approached as well. Crowley had an arm full of clothing, and he did not look pleased. As he approached, the complaining began. "You wander off in this filthy run-down teeming mass of welfare—"

"Eh!" The man in the green vest sputtered in displeasure, continuing to wipe at the spots on the glass.

"-and leave me to get the flogging?" Lividness colored the older man's face. "You know what happens when Dean's hamster runs away? I gotta explain to him he didn't end up at the bloody circus!"

Everyone seemed to think this comment should have made Castiel feel bad, and so he attempted to look appropriately ashamed. When did Dean get a hamster… and what would a circus want with it?

Sam motioned for the other men to follow him, and smiled wearily. "Come on, nothing happened, let's just pay and get to the Impala." He began walking off, as if he assumed everyone would follow him.

They did.

Dean poked at the shirt Castiel had in his arms, pulling back the cloth to fully reveal the food item Castiel was carrying. "Why you got kiwi's, Cas?"

Castiel held them up as they approached the lanes where people were lining up to pay for their items. "I don't know."

Looking a little incredulous, Dean motioned to the fruit. "You like kiwis?"

"I don't know."

"So…" Pointing with his thumb at the kiwi display not too far behind him, Dean waited for further explanation.

Castiel wasn't sure he could provide it. "Because I… want them."

Nodding slowly, Dean pursed his lips and looked displeased. "You're craving a food you've never had before."

"I believe so." The conversation didn't seem to be worth having, so Castiel's attention drifted around the high metal beams in the ceiling, then over to the bakery. The heat in his neck was subsiding, and he felt a little less edgy.

"Cool. That's not weird." The tone Dean used obviously contrasted what he was actually thinking with what he was saying.

Crowley set the selection of clothing and some deodorant on a conveyer belt, Castiel watched as a woman who was very pregnant scanned their items. On her green vest she had a clipped-on name tag that read 'Leanne'. Crowley gave that strange smile of his, "Little brother's run into some hard times." He nodded in Castiel's direction, and the woman seemed a little unsure if she believed that they were all related. Castiel put his items on the belt, and shuffled along with the other men to the end of the lane. She glanced between the four of them, and after Sam swiped a card with the name 'Carlson Draper', she eventually handed Sam his receipt, he grabbed the bags. "Thank you for shopping at Shop-Smart, your place for smart shopping."

"Thank you, Leanne." Castiel followed the three other men out of the store, he felt a vibration in his left pocket and there was a bright sounding 'bring-bring-bring'! He dug the phone out of his pocket, and flipped it open. "Hello, Amelia?"

"It's talking again. He won't shut up."

Castiel walked faster, and made eye contact with the other men, and motioned to the phone. "Hold the phone up." There was the hiss of silence, and then he heard it. The young voice of his daughter…Jimmy's daughter… praying in Enochian, he could tell by the respectful tone. But the words were hard to make out over the phone. He should not be on angel radio, who is he talking to? Surely he doesn't think that God is still listening?

Amelia's voice returned, "What should I do?"

"It does not sound like a spell. I believe—he is praying. Just try to ignore it." Castiel instructed, just as they reached the Impala. He saw that there were bags of food in the back seat, and climbed in, shoving them aside. "I am on my way."