A/N1: Mom, this one is for you. You'll see why. :)

Castiel paced through Aya Nakano's still, quiet apartment, making no noise on her carpet, his trousers and his coat whispering against one another. He glanced down at the Winchesters sleeping in the front room, looking less than comfortable. Dean, a throw pillow folded under his ear, lay on the floor, his face relaxed in a way it never was while he was awake. Sam sprawled across the single couch, using his bent arm as a pillow, his long legs spilling off the other end.

A small cat appeared, balanced on the back of the couch. She winked her large green eyes at him. As he neared her, she lifted her tail and began to purr.

He offered his hand, and the animal spirit pushed her head into it, demanding attention.

What are you still doing here? he asked her, angelic grace to mortal soul, while he scratched her ears; the purring intensified. You know what awaits you on the other side of the bridge.

All cats know, she answered, her speech a flood of impressions rather than words. She moved her shoulder to his scratching fingers; he was careful not to knock her over. I am waiting for my person.

He tilted his head. Do you delay paradise for a human?

You would, too, if you knew her, the cat said matter-of-factly, sitting back. She cares for us when no one else can. I will care for her until she no longer needs me.

Stewardship was given to Adam's children, he reminded her.

The cat tapped her tail. Adam's stupid brats. She invited this one inside. He smells bad. Don't trust him.

With that, she disappeared.

As though he'd felt the breath of chilled air left by the territorial soul, Sam shifted, his eyebrows pinching together.

Castiel considered him. The boy with the demon blood. An abomination, according to Uriel. Sam did not wake, however, so Castiel passed him by. For now. A cat's opinion was not something to dismiss out of hand.

Untroubled by the darkness, he moved down the short hallway, taking note of the pictures framed upon the walls, the narrow table supporting a lamp, several candles, little fox figurines, and a pile of books. He flipped through one, but, being an angel, could not read much of it without feeling sick.

The sweet scents emanating from the bathroom did not impress him. Manufactured. False. Unnecessary. Perhaps he thought so because his current vessel was male, making him, for the moment, male. Or perhaps it was because he could smell the molecules of each product arguing with each other. He moved on. How females could stand to live in a cloud of belligerent molecules was beyond his scope of understanding.

Two humans occupied this space. He followed the vibrations of a living soul into a bedroom done in cobalt blue, dove gray, and white, muted in the darkness that was interrupted by a thin finger of yellowish light from beyond the curtained window.

Castiel paused at the foot of Aya's bed. Not long ago, Dean had let him know in no uncertain terms that watching over a man while he slept was not acceptable behavior. This rule was related to the one about respecting personal space, of which Dean was fiercely protective but that Castiel could never seem to measure correctly. Multi-dimensional wavelengths of celestial intent simply did not generate "personal space."

Dean's warning did not seem to apply here, however. Castiel could see nothing of Aya except for a lump of blankets. Cold air circulated, cooler than the machine-regulated air, which at least explained why she had burrowed so deep. Quite a few souls had congregated here, drawn by the girl's vibrations. They brushed against the Veil but didn't pass through, invisible to his vessel. He stood still for several minutes, doing nothing, while the fake breeze ruffled his hair and the unseen souls drifted. He had been ordered to save this human. Now he wanted to know why. Uriel would not tell him. Maybe she could.

Castiel approached the side of the bed. Aya slept on, her lips parted as she breathed. Her face was lovely, or so his vessel informed him with sudden, categorical, physical interest that he dismissed. He reached out two fingers. He touched her forehead.

A spacious, undefined kitchen, gauzy with sunshine that fell in thick bars from the windows, took shape around him. The light slanted across potted plants and flowers in vases. Sheer curtains stirred in a breeze. It smelled of light and nature.

Aya stood at the counter, surrounded by three others. Castiel hovered on the edge of her awareness, letting her knowledge flow into him. The tallest was Lemara, a beloved not-sister of acceptance and adventure; next was Paulie, a cherished not-brother of quieter camaraderie; and finally, Darika, a leader, an example, a solid rock on which to lean when life got difficult. They laughed together as they passed around a plate of confections. The sunlight struck the vivid, colorful frosting, which sparkled like stained glass.

After a moment, Aya seemed to notice something amiss. Her focus shifted, as it did in dreams, as she turned. Her friends, behind her, continued laughing and eating, but the sound and the color faded. Their movements slowed until they halted, frozen in place like figures in a photograph.

"Hello, Castiel," she said.

She remembered his name, even while dreaming. A bubble of brightness burst somewhere inside him. He ignored it.

"I'm so glad you came. Would you like one? I baked them this morning." She offered the plate of confections.

"I don't eat," he said, making no effort to play along. He kept his hands hanging loosely at his sides. "Can you see me?"

"Of course." She set the plate aside, and then raised her eyes. Higher than she would if she were looking at his vessel. Her expression softened. When she spoke, she sounded as though she were dreaming. "You look like a sunrise. Like the most glorious sunrise on the day that I know I'm going to die."

Castiel wasn't sure that he understood. "Do I frighten you?"

She smiled at him, and that time, she made eye contact. "No. Not anymore. You're so beautiful."

Her answer pleased him. His pleasure confused him.

Until now, he had taken it for granted that his true form would strike terror in humankind. He was one of God's first children, he was a representative of the Word, and he should be respected as such.

However, he remembered her screams. The way she had shied away from him. He felt less than proud.

While he worked through this, Aya moved past him. The atmosphere of her dream changed quality and hue. The airiness closed in, as intimate and as cool as her bedroom. Blue light danced with green shadows. He turned.

A tunnel arched overhead, a graceful, ribbed curvature of glass. It twisted away from him in both directions, creating a pocket of isolation. Sunlight poured down through several thousand gallons of water. It filled the tunnel with glimmering patterns. Beyond the glass, an ocean floor stretched into a blue-black distance. Sand, coral, kelp, and schools of fish swirled together in a wondrous celebration of his Father's work.

Aya stood at the edge of the walkway, her face turned up as she watched a pair of sharks swim overhead. Castiel approached, and then, when she didn't bring up personal space, he stood cautiously next to her.

"I love it here," Aya said. She pointed out a sea turtle, old enough to glide, aloof, beneath the circling sharks. "My mom brought me and my sister here once when we were younger."

"Where are we?" he asked her.

"Omaha's Henry Doorly Zoo," she said.

Omaha. A city in the state of Nebraska. Over five hundred miles east of their current location. "I understand," he said. "You are small. It is too far for you to travel easily."

She giggled. She put her back to the glass, sat on the small ledge, and stretched her legs out in front of her. "Something like that."

Side by side, Castiel and Aya watched the fish and the sharks and the turtle. He could, if he chose, walk on the bottom of the ocean, where the animals were not captives. Yet, he had to admit, this facsimile appealed just as much to him. Peaceful. Beautiful. Shared.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

Castiel glanced down at Aya's head. She studied her interlaced fingers, peeking from the cuffs of her white sweatshirt, rather than the sharks, who slid by again.

He saw no reason to deceive her. "Yes."

"Thought so. I am never alone. People are everywhere, alive and dead, all the time. I would freak out if this happened while I was awake," she said ruefully. She hesitated. "Are you real? I mean, not part of my dream."

"Yes."

She raised her eyes, wise and unfettered. Met his without flinching. "Why?"

"It is safer to speak here," he said. "There are fewer chances we will be overheard."

Her face twitched, but he did not recognize the emotion behind it. "Not none?"

He tilted his head. Humans knew so little about the way their brains worked. "No."

"Oh," she said in a small voice. "I would ask how you got here but I don't think I want to know."

He wanted to answer her. There was nothing shameful in dreamwalking. Yet, she was clearly uncomfortable. The light in the tunnel darkened, the blue deepening to indigo. He chose to remain silent.

She took a deep, shaky breath, and then released it. "Okay. I'm asleep, you're here, and my head isn't nearly as private as I thought. In which case, there's something I'd like to know. May I ask you a question?"

"Of course," he said.

"This . . . you." She waved her hand up and down. "I see you, and I see him. Who is he? How does this work?"

"You're asking about my vessel."

She nodded. He sighed. Dean had also asked. Humans, worried about a human. He might have faulted them for not doing so.

"His name is Jimmy," Castiel said. "Jimmy Novak. He is here, with me. He is . . . sleeping." Not true, but the real answer couldn't be broken down into English gracefully. "He is a devout man. When I asked for his consent, he prayed for me."

Her eyes dropped along with the subject. "Is there something you wanted to ask me?"

Though he didn't need to, Castiel also sat on the ledge, feet apart, elbows resting on his knees. He didn't say anything for several shark circles. Aya seemed untroubled by the silence, a fact that both humbled and reassured him. He was an intruder in her mind, yet she let him be, patiently waiting for whatever it was he had to say.

So, he said something completely different than he'd intended. "Dean has explained the situation to you."

Even though it wasn't a question, she nodded. "They are trying to stop a demon named Lilith from breaking the sixty-six seals that are keeping Lucifer imprisoned in Hell." The unnamable emotion flitted across her face again, part discomfort, part humor. "Was he telling the truth?"

"Yes. If Lucifer is freed, he will begin a war from which there will be no survivors. The Apocalypse. That is why I am here. On Earth." He picked at a thumbnail. "That is why I did not answer the prayers of a young woman when she feared for her life. As a result, she died at the hands of a demon."

She was silent for so long that he risked a glance in her direction. Her small face was serious as she pulled her legs into her chest and hugged them. "Julia," she said.

He nodded. "The seals are Heaven's responsibility. My responsibility. I was ordered to find the location of the seal and stop Lilith, and therefore I left Julia and the boy to their Fates. And in consequence, have placed in greater danger twenty-four others. Twenty-four against over six billion. My superiors have assured me that my course was just."

Though he knew without asking what Dean would say, he wanted to hear what she thought of what he had, or hadn't, done. He had met others with Sight throughout creation, so bound by their calling that they saw the universe in shades of black and white. And he had met others who had rebelled against their Fates, choosing liberty and happiness for themselves. Which was Aya?

Which was he?

A dangerous road, that way of thinking. He was an angel of the Lord, and he was made to follow orders. He pushed the thoughts of rebellion down deep.

"I don't know that I have anything meaningful to tell you," Aya said. She put her chin on her knees. "You're an angel. I am only human. I don't think the rules are the same. But even if I couldn't do what I can, I would always try to help the person right in front of me. There may be people in greater need somewhere else, or the one in front of me can't be helped, but that should never stop me from doing what I can, where I am, with what I have."

A good answer, but it didn't ease his heart any. He bowed his head, wishing that he could speak with his Father, just once. He was not ranked highly enough to be admitted into His presence, but that didn't stop his yearning to know why.

"Castiel?"

His introspection had been noticeable. He gave her his attention. "Aya."

She seemed amused by his response. "The one good thing about being human, and maybe about being an angel, too, is that we don't have to do everything all by ourselves. We don't have to have all the right answers, because someone else might, this one time. You and I, we can help Julia together."

"Help her how?" he asked roughly. "Through inaction, I let her die in fear. She will not trust me."

"We can help her by stopping the demons who killed her," she said, as matter-of-fact as her cat. "Were you able to find the location of the seal?"

"No." A heavy admission that seemed to drag through his vocal cords. "Lilith and her demons have done something to the city, like a bank of fog, that we are unable to penetrate. Several locations could be the correct one, but they are warded against angels and I cannot get inside to investigate."

She thought about that. "Could a human get inside?"

"Of course," he said without thinking. "Enochian warding sigils are only effective –" He stopped, startled, as he followed her thought like following the trail of bubbles in the water around them, arriving at the moray eel grinning out of a rock crevice.

"What if we looked inside for you?" she asked. Roseate light struck the glass and the water, the dawning of excitement. "Me, and Sam, and Dean?"

"It would take time, but it is better than doing nothing," he said, half to himself, rising to his feet. It had never occurred to him that the creatures he had been charged with observing could help in such an immediate way. His superiors had said nothing about it. "Thank you."

"What? Wait! Where are you going?"

Castiel, who had stridden toward the exit, a loose stitch in the fabric of her dream that glimmered like a crack in the glass, turned around. Aya stood on the path, dismayed.

"It is not safe for you," he said. She was not a hunter, her mass less than half that of Sam's, no aura of violence detectable anywhere around her. No, it was definitely not safe for her. "I must go without you."

"I want to come, too! What about Julia? And Lemara is still out there!"

The dead girl, the one with faith, and the tall girl, the beloved not-sister. "I am sorry," he said.

Aya's shiny black hair framed her face and tumbled around her shoulders as she angrily shook her head. She seemed so small but so vibrant. Just as she had the first time he'd seen her, really saw her, sitting across from him in a diner booth. Her eyes, capable of Seeing in a way most humans could not comprehend, seemed to flash with dark fire as she gazed up at him, reproachful. "You mean you aren't going to let me help. You're just going to leave me here. At home. Whatever."

"I will return if you like," he said, surprising himself. Perhaps proximity to the Winchesters had transferred some of their gregariousness to him. We feel you have begun to express emotion, Castiel. He added, suddenly anxious to clarify, "To watch the sharks."

It was not easy for someone with a calling to back down from that calling, and even harder to be commanded to do so, but he wasn't giving her a choice. He must be, in her eyes, an obstacle. She smiled at him, anyway. More bubbles of brightness burst within him.

"I would like that," she said. "To watch the sharks with you."

He nodded, once.

Then he turned, spread his wings, and left her standing, her face thoughtful, amid her dissolving dream.

A/N2: This was SO HARD to get right! At least, I hope I got it right. I don't even know anymore. That's what took so long. LOL. Getting closer to the end though, and the sequel is starting to take some sort of lopsided shape, so yay?

Reviewer Thanks! MiMiMargot, happyperson42, Topkicker26, Darwin, St4r Hunter (all eleven reviews!), Momochan77, YaoiLovinKitsune, and Lionessa. Bringin' me to TEARS here. X3 Thank you.

Someone gets a butt kicked next chapter. Just sayin'.

Lots of love to you all!

~ Anne