Chapter 6

Dreams were something that Castiel was still struggling to get used to, random flashes of a person or a place disorienting him and making him long for a time when he didn't have to sleep. This one was particularly confusing, with Sam and Dean flickering in and out of his eyesight, and light causing him some discomfort before one or both of them swam into focus. There was some noise too, but it sounded muffled, as though Castiel was underwater, and he was on the verge of willing it to sound clearer before it all disappeared again. There was a feeling of frustration that he knew was burning at his core, and Castiel wanted the dreams and frustration to go away. He didn't know where he was, but knew that getting to Sam and Dean was going to help get rid of the dreams and frustration.

"Cas...!" He saw himself turn in response to his name being called out, and he saw himself tense as it was called out again. "Cas!" A blinding white light drew him out of the confusion, and he bolted upright, coughing and spluttering as water dripped down his face. Sam stood away to the side with an apologetic look on his face, and Dean was stood in front of him, a bucket barely clasped in his fingers. Castiel motioned for the bucket as he put his head between his knees, and it barely made its way to him before his stomach rebelled against him and emptied its contents into it. Dean grimaced as Castiel's shoulders shuddered with the effort of keeping him upright, and Sam moved to rub his back in an attempt to make him more comfortable whilst giving Dean one of the many bitch-faces he had in his arsenal. Dean shrugged, not knowing what to do, and Sam pointed in the direction of the kitchen.

"Water, Dean." He hesitated. "Now." He headed to the kitchen, taking a look back at Castiel and feeling suddenly over protective of the fallen angel, who looked weak and vulnerable compared to what he had been before Metatron. Dean clenched his fists, trying to will his anger back under control, to save it for the next unfortunate son of a bitch who crossed him. An angel of the lord should not be puking his guts up into a bucket, Dean thought. He sighed, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge and walked back to see Castiel's head out of the bucket, but he looked worse for wear by a long shot. Dean held the bottle out, and Castiel took it gratefully.

"You probably shouldn't try and drink it all at once. Just try and take small sips, and see if it stays down first."

"Thank you, Dean. And Sam." Castiel took a gulp of the water and swilled it around his mouth, grimacing as it spread the acidic taste around before spitting it into the bucket. He then took a longer drink and swallowed, grimacing again, but took another to try and wash the taste away.

"This is... Not enjoyable." Sam had moved away, allowing Dean to take the now vacated seat. Dean carried on what Sam was doing, and Castiel leaned into him, placing his head on the hunter's shoulder. He sighed, tiredness washing over him again, but Dean gently shook him awake.

"Cas, c'mon man. You need to dry off and try eat something. And we still have to look into whatever Crowley meant about Jimmy." Dean felt Castiel's shoulders slump, and he slowly removed his head from his shoulder. Dean stood first, extending a hand to help Castiel back to his feet, who swayed a little before managing to stand without Dean's help. He looked down at himself, suit disheveled and dirty, and sighed again. Dean picked up on it, concern etching its way slowly onto his face.

"Hey, don't worry. It'll wash." He paused. "Actually, give them here. You go shower, and I'll get Sam to wash these. I'm sure I'll find something for you for the time being." Castiel looked down at himself again and let himself be led to a room, and Dean left him to sort himself out. He stood outside the room with the door firmly closed until a thud from the other side of it made him turn to face it.

"You okay in there Cas?" There was the muffled sound of movement before he got any answer.

"I believe I require your assistance." Dean slowly opened the door, expecting Castiel to not have started or be stuck with an item of clothing that he previously had no experience with. He was right with the latter, as Castiel was sat on the floor with his trousers at his knees but shirt and suit jacket folded neatly to the side of him. Dean was trying his hardest not to laugh, but Castiel's face made him tip over the edge, the pure look of sadness bringing the laughter forth.

"I don't understand - why is this funny?" If possible, Castiel looked even sadder, and Dean wiped the tears that had creeped out off his face.

"Man, I haven't laughed that hard since you told that stripper about her dad..." A few more tears had run down Dean's face, and he took a couple of deep breaths, trying to compose himself. "What happened in here anyway, Cas?" Castiel blushed, then looked in the direction of his trousers. Dean looked down, and he understood how his angelic friend had fallen in a very unangelic way.

"You fell over them, didn't you?" A deeper shade of red covered Castiel's face, and Dean knew that he had hit the problem squarely on the head. "Hey, it's okay. Happens to the best of us, more often than you'd think. Sam does it all the time, but only because he's freakishly tall." Castiel cracked a small smile and Dean counted it as a small victory as he again sat beside the fallen angel.

"Is being human always this difficult?"

"Not for those who've always had it like this, Cas." He sighed, and Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder as a gesture of support. "We'll have you as though you've never been human as soon as we can, I swear. But for now, you have to slum it with the rest of us." Castiel and Dean stood, Castiel managing not to fall over as he stepped out of the trousers and turned to face Dean. He was promptly turned around and walked into the bathroom that was connected to what was now his room.

"Okay. You turn these until the water is warm enough for you, then get in. You, uh, need to take those off before you get in though." Dean blushed, motioning to Castiel's underwear before hastily turning around. "I'll put clean stuff on the bed for you, shout if you need anything." He quickly walked out, hearing Castiel muttering to himself as the squeak of the dials told him he was trying to figure them out.

"Never thought you'd be teaching a grown man how to shower?" Sam was leaning in the doorframe, and Dean jumped, having not seen his younger brother. How he's missed a 6'4" moose, Dean would never know.

"Jesus, Sammy! Way to give a guy a heart attack..." Sam scoffed, slightly satisfied that he had managed to get some degree of revenge after being startled before Castiel passed out. "What?"

"Nothing. Well - something."

"Well... What did you find, nerd?"

"You're gonna wanna get Cas for this. It's important."

"Sam! Dammit, what's so important?"

"I found something. About Jimmy. So yeah, we're gonna need Cas for this." Sam walked off, leaving Dean dumbfounded. He didn't hear Castiel walk up behind him.

"Dean?" He jumped again, cursing.

"Dammit, Cas!" He turned around, almost bumping into Castiel, who nearly dropped the towel that was keeping his modesty covered.

"Dean!" Castiel barely managed to keep it in place before running back to the room he's come out of. Dean cursed. Again.

"Crap. Cas! Cas!" Dean followed him, grabbing an armful of clean clothes that had been promised and almost barrelled into the angel as the door opened. Castiel quickly moved aside, but didn't move his foot quick enough, sending Dean flailing to the floor, the pile of clothes landing wherever they pleased.

"Clothes." The first piece of clothing Dean found was held aloft to prove his point, his voice muffled from landing face down on the carpet. Castiel laughed, taking whatever it was that Dean was holding and placing it on the bed.

"Are you okay, Dean?"

"Peachy. Just peachy." He rolled himself onto his back and sat up, groaning as his shoulder popped and cracked. "Uhhh... Did you shower yet?"

"Not yet."

"Well, it'll have to wait. Sam found something about Jimmy, so you'll have to get dressed and come on. I think he thinks you might remember, with him being your vessel and all." Castiel huffed, grabbing the remainder of clothes off the floor whilst Dean moved out of the room, allowing Castiel the privacy to get himself re-dressed. It was a couple of minutes before Castiel followed, the words Crowley had said bouncing around in his skull. A memory of red flashed before his eyes, making him stop mid-step and almost falling down the couple of steps connecting the two main rooms of the bunker. Sam stared at him, laughing to himself slightly at Castiel hovering above the step whilst Dean looked concerned at the confused look on his face.

"Cas?" The glossed over look disappeared and he snapped back to reality, his foot coming down on the step and the rest of him following it down.

"Yes, Dean?"

"You okay?"

"I am fine, Dean." He turned away to look at Sam, who was giving Dean a puzzled look. "Sam. You said you found some information about Jimmy?" This time Sam snapped back to reality, looking at Castiel then down at the open laptop in front of him.

"Uh, yeah." Sam pulled the laptop closer to him, clicking something on the screen and turning it back so Dean and Castiel could see it, pushing it away from him again. A news article from Pontiac, Illinois filled the screen, so Dean knew that they were at least in the right area for it to be about Jimmy. Castiel leaned closer to the computer, eyes flicking back and forth quicker than Dean's, so Dean didn't see Castiel step back after reading the article, but heard him fall over one of the chairs that surrounded the table. Sam let Dean finish reading and went to help Castiel, whose face had drained of any colour it had regained from earlier. His legs felt weak, and Sam had to help him sit on a chair, Castiel's knuckles white with how hard he was holding on to Sam's shirt. A fine layer of sweat coated his forehead, making him look worse tha he was, and it was then that Dean finished the reading the article, as a large thump indicated.