Castiel settled himself in the same chair. He wanted to sigh but held back. Dean's necklace was warm against him. Either from the spell or from Dean. Idly his fingers played with the medallion. He listened to Anna's breathing, smooth and soft. Sam's though still sounded laboured. Outside in the hall doors began to open and shut. Someone's radio switched on. Contemporary music reached his ears. Castiel easily forgot that this building had so many residents.

Just as he began to wonder about a resident happening upon their room, Anna awoke. It was a violent start. She flipped out of the bed into a crouch. Quickly she scanned the room for danger. Castiel remained still, not wanting to provoke her. "You are safe." His deep voice rumbled through the room. Embarrassed, she rose. Happily Cas noticed her stand with no help. "Your injuries?"

"Healed. Thank you. That must have been very difficult for you."

"It was nothing." Castiel dismissed.

She nodded then asked, "What time is it?"

Without looking at a clock he responded, "Near 0620."

"The day is about to start... So much needs to happen. Castiel! The handcuffs! We can't have Uriel coming back!"

He raised his hand to silence her, "I am protected." He pulled Dean's necklace into view. "I enchanted it. This way I have a less restrictive method to protect us."

"That's a good move you made." She paused a moment to switch gears, "I'm going to go and get ready for the children. Has anything changed with Sam?" The priest shook his head with a frown.

"Is he supposed to wake up soon?"

"It took me this long. So hopefully soon." Anna replied before leaving for her own bedroom.

Dean felt his headache throb. He suspected the pulsing vein on his forehead was visible. Between him and Bobby the group of 50 was split evenly. The first group was writing paragraphs in cursive. The other group was working on separate diagrams of the human respiratory system.

A young boy around 12 walked up to him, "Mr. W. I don't remember how to write the letter 'X'."

"John, where are your notes?" The kid seemed to realize the answer.

"Oh, right here." Dean breathed deep. 'He's just a punk kid. Patience.'

"John, next time you ask for help make sure you need it. Help yourself first," Dean reprimanded gently. Anna walked in just as the boy returned to work. She handed Dean a cup of coffee, his first for the day.

"How's the baby sitting?" She inquired. It was fortunate that Dean had earned the boys' respect months ago, or else this understaffed situation could be far worse. Dean laughed a little at her question.

"I think I should be asking you that." He then added, "Where's the boy wonder?" The trenchcoated man had been following Anna around all morning. It was her day to cook and clean. Which suited Dean because he didn't want her to have more stress than necessary. Cas was irritating but didn't bother her at all. She is probably desensitized after all the years on the Holy Continent. Dean felt like part of it was a 'fish out of water' thing. Cas didn't seem to know what to do or how to prioritize his time without orders.

"He wanted to cook, so I let him." Anna replied lightly. Dean panicked at the idea. Does the guy even know how? Anna smiled at the expression and reassured Dean, "Don't worry. He has a recipe card. Cas is very good at following directions." She took a sip out of her own ceramic mug. Dean could smell the mild tea inside. If she had faith, then he would too.

"How's Bobby doing?" He asked curious. The man could teach, that wasn't a problem. It was the fact that his class size had more than doubled suddenly, and hid leg had been strained in the fight.

"Tired but well." Anna amused herself with reading the closest kid's handiwork over their shoulder.

"He's got math today right? Instead of Sammy."

She nodded, "I think the kids are beginning to ask questions about what's going on. At least Sam's getting better by the hour." then took another comforting sip. An older boy approached to have his diagram evaluated by Dean. Anna walked out and returned to the kitchen.

She entered chaos. Cheese was everywhere. The priest had been attempting to make mac and cheese. A portion of the wall was yellow, and the entire cook top was layered in a combination of ingredients. The boiling noodles were over flowing onto the electric coil. Anna gasped and rushed to turn the stove top off.

"I believe I misunderstood some of the directions," Castiel deadpanned. A part of him was ashamed, and another part frustrated. Anna quickly took over the situation.

"Okay. You can watch me cook, so you'll understand from now on." She wasn't angry. If anything it was amusing. Even Dean had predicted this disaster. It shouldn't be a surprise at all really. Cas helped her the best he could. He used the mindless tasks to focus on calming his emotions. The temporary peace that filled the school was a refreshing change from the stiff and anxious atmosphere he had with Uriel. Thoughts of Uriel reminded Castiel that everyone needed to discuss their next step once the children were asleep.

At a lull in the activity Cas spoke his concern, "We all need to meet and talk tonight." She paused in setting up the table, and nodded. "We have much to discuss," Cas clarified, his voice grave.

The priest stood in the corner and watched the chaos of Lunch as it ensued. Apparently the youngest eat first, and when done are ushered out for the next age group, and so on. There were only four groups that ate. It occurred to Castiel, that all these boys were surprisingly close in age. If he had to estimate between nine and fourteen. None older or younger. Were there age restrictions on this school? Or was there some sort of event that affected these families? Each child cleaned their own dish before they were allowed some play time. By the end of the meal, each child had some sort of recess to help digest the food before they returned to lessons.

As the kids played, and then returned to work Castiel assisted Anna with the next round of food preparations. And re-washing some of the less than stellar plates. Time seemed to flow by quickly after that, cooking became more logical as he observed. Though a lot of times she would ignore the recipe and decide on her own what amount of ingredient should be used, or for however long the food should be cooked. All of the intricacies that went into cooking chicken kinda astounded Castiel.

Someone at some point in time someone had dedicated themselves to finding the perfect way to prepare this. Out of all the infinite combinations possible, Anna had settled on this one. And as Castiel sampled the food, at her request, he found it truly delicious. This whole process. Idea. Everything, was new to him as well. Usually he ate with his brothers and sisters at the church. It was rarely more intricate than bread and soup. As he tasted this chicken, his body suddenly craved more. It wasn't just hunger. It was desire.

He had to fight this. Desire is bad. He can't yearn for anything. Castiel nodded and said, "I do believe that is the best chicken I have ever tasted." The compliment made Anna smile wide. She brushed off the comment, trying to humble herself.

"No, I have made much better. I would say this is an average meal." Again that desire surged against Castiel at the thought of this becoming the standard. His stomache growled in response. Anna heard it. "Oh! Cassy! I totally forgot to get you lunch earlier. All you've had is that apple. Here. Eat this." She broke away a portion of the chicken and ladled some broth over it. Then she picked out some of the veggies and placed them next to the meat. She set the plate down and went to prepare a drink for her brother. Castiel had to stop her. He couldn't cater to the desire he felt. If anything he should just have some bread, water, and fruit.

"Anna I can't."

"Of course you can, here sit." She placed a large glass down next to the plate. He sat and looked at the plate before him. The battle within' his head raged. He couldn't pull away and he couldn't come closer.

Anna watched him stare and asked, "Is it not good? I thought I had done a good job.. You don't have to eat it if it's that bad," When Castiel looked up she put on her most hurt expression, "I don't want to make you sick."

'Oh no. How do I deal with this?' Castiel had dealt with others crying, but only when confessing to him. He had never had to deal with making someone cry because of his actions. He could tell if he refused, it would hurt her deeply. There was a heavy and sad feeling that gripped his insides. It was cold and reached into his core. The feeling paled when compared to his need to remain pious with his meals.

Castiel looked constipated for a moment before he decided to accept the food. And the meal was glorious. Gone too soon. It was with true gusto that he consumed the chicken. Afterwards the feeling of satisfaction settled inside him. It was weird how he could nearly feel the nourishment enter his body. It was strange how he felt better after that meal. Like somehow something as simple as food could affect his mood. Normally he treated eating like a chore that needed to be addressed.

Anna tried not to laugh at Castiel's reaction. She remembered her first meal outside the church as well. She probably did the same thing with the same face. She smiled gently as she grabbed his dirty dish, "That's something of an experience, huh?" Castiel could only nod. He didn't trust himself to speak. Instead he stood and returned to helping Anna with the chores. He'd have to analyze that experience another time.

By the time Anna placed the last of the plates out, the first group of children poured in for dinner. Loud and just as chaotic as before. With the third wave of children Sam wandered in. Surprisingly alive, and unsurprisingly hungry. Anna obliged him and as inconspicuously as she could, checked him over to be sure he was alright.

He seemed like a normal person to Castiel. There didn't appear to be anything turbulent that would cause him to fall into a small coma. When he met Sam's eyes Castiel saw they were almost like Anna's. There is still a distinction between the blue and green, but where the colours met it seemed to merge naturally. "You know the sun will be setting soon." Sam commented. Castiel tightened his lips having no clue what the young man was referring to. Sam pointed to the top of his own head, "You don't need sunglasses at night."

Castiel reached atop his head and found through all the events in the past 24 hours, his sunglasses had yet to move off their resting place. He removed them and placed the items in his trench coat pocket.

"My name's Sam." Sam reached up from his seated position. Surprisingly he could still easily reach Castiel.

Castiel accepted the extended hand in a civil hand shake. The first one he's probably had on the continent. "I am Castiel," The priest felt the need to clarify his presence, "I am here for Anna." Their conversation ended there as the young man finished his meal.

Sam rose to clean his plate just as the last of the children rushed out to enjoy their temporary free time. "I'll catch you up on what's happened once I'm done here." Anna promised him. Sounded good enough for the young Winchester. As he walked out Dean entered with the last heard of student. Castiel could have sworn Dean was going to cry with relief as he saw his brother is awake and well.

"Sammy. You good? You get to eat?" Dean's brilliant green eyes shone as he smiled.

"Yeah I'm good. Ate some chicken. I want to go shower and stuff now. We'll talk tonight." Sammy promised him before walking off.

Dean's happiness set the tone for the rest of the meal. Castiel marveled at how this place swirled with energy. Voices and laughter echo through the halls. The first impression the priest had of this place was pleasantly spot on. It was pure. Good intentions and dedicated love built the foundations. And these boys seemed to be benefiting from all of the care.

Castiel had been told of the darkness the plagued the Emerald City. Yet it wasn't present here. He felt a sense of happiness that is rare in the Holy City. It was less manufactured, and felt more genuine. Children were ushered to their room to finish their evening writing and math assignments. The last of the kids quieted in sleep around ten at night.

Without prompting all the adults converged together in the large common room. Anna sat in the oversized chair with a far off look on her face. Sam sat beside her with a laptop, apparently catching up on everything he missed the past few days. Bobby sat behind the desk, looking up any information on the cult that he could find. Cas opted to stand. He thought on the flux in his emotions recently.

It probably began when Gabriel returned to the church. Seeing the changes in him. How he was more crude, childish, and rebellious. Yet happier. Gabriel seemed... real in a way. Not like something cookie cutter. A truly original, absolutely individual person. And now Anna. She's become so much more. It was hard for Castiel to look at. To understand. He wanted to try. He wanted to feel. To let himself be human. To do that he has to rebel against everything he's ever known.

Dean walked in clutching a sloppy burger in one hand, beer in the other. He munched happily as though nothing was wrong in his life. A small pang of jealousy stung Cas's heart. Dean. A prime example of everything he wanted to experience. All of the fire, energy, and emotions. Dean seemed to embrace them all. Vigorous for life. He watched as Dean took a swig of beer. Even something as simple as alcohol. He'd never drank before.

The green eyed man noticed the stare and smiled with a full mouth. The poor manners made Cas grimace a little. "So what's the game plan?" Sam asked from his seat. Sam moved to take charge of the discussion, despite being the youngest one there. He tried to sound serious and Castiel noticed his voice wasn't as deep as Deans, and sounded like a child compared to his own.

"Answers." Castiel responded, "If I am to continue turning a blind eye then I must know why I should." He tried to convey the importance of his presence. "In order for word to reach Michael of my alleged death, and for re-enforcements to arrive here will likely take until noon tomorrow. I recommend we leave before then." Castiel looked to Anna, then to Dean to be sure they were listening.

Dean asked Bobby, "You still got Rufus's number?"

"You want that crazy bastard to try and teach these kids?" Bobby opposed the idea immediately.

"He can help out somehow. At least he'll be useful, should more of those bastards show up." Dean reasoned.

"That's still my family you are talking about. Refrain from insulting them," Castiel loved his brothers and sister. He was just feeling estranged from them recently.

"Well your family are ... jerks." Dean said lamely and obviously ill-thought out.

Sam spoke up as though his brother wasn't embarrassing him, "Bobby we know enough people. All we really need is three. Rufus, Garth and Jo. Even Ellen could help."

"Why would we need three people?" Dean asked, even though he knew what Sam was already thinking.

"Anna's not going alone, and if you're going anywhere Dean, then I am too." He sounded resolved in his decision.

"You're needed here, and you're not exactly up to par at the moment." Dean finished his food and took an aggravated step towards his brother, "You just woke up from a mini-coma a few hours ago!"

"Look I feel fine. I think I have a handle on this. And I'm not letting you leave. We have enough people who will help. I'm coming along and that's final." Sammy was an adult and Dean knew he couldn't stop his brother. That doesn't mean he has to like it. The look Anna was giving Dean said 'He needs me around.'

"Fine. Whatever." Dean caved.

"We have to figure out what the connection is between the cult and the church," Anna looked at Cas and said, "I'm not sure why they want me. But if I had to guess, it has to do with being Hazel eyed. And if that's the case, then Sam's in danger as well."

"But nobody knows about Sammy," Dean spoke up. Bobby stood up and walked over to a nondescript box on the bookshelf. He grabbed the contents and tossed them to Dean, Sam, and Anna. Castiel pushed off the wall and approached Dean to see the items. There were several I.D. cards, all with various names but had Dean's face. Falsified credit cards, and birth certificates were stacked neatly beneath those. Lastly there were false police and federal agent badges.

Castiel gave a disapproving huff but said nothing. Dean seemed to understand. "Look man, it's the only way to remain under the radar. Unless you want them to track us."

"Those are old. Worn out from use. Not new," The priest observed.

"How else do you think nobody knows about Sammy?" Dean countered.

"I'll have to take your picture tonight and send it to Rufus. He should have something ready by morning when he shows," Bobby said gruffly, already pulling out a phone to start his lengthy conversation.

Dean had one more thing to add, "Bobby, none of the kids should know what's going on but keep them restricted to the grounds until we say it's safe." Bobby made an annoyed face that said 'No shit ya idjit.' and then started talking to his contact.

"C'mon Cas, let's get you cleaned up for the photo." Dean turned to leave taking another swig; having decided the conversation was over. Everyone split ways. Bobby was arguing angrily on the phone. Sam was off talking to Anna about his experience when unconscious. Dean lead Cas upstairs to his room... which ended up being the room Cas was already familiar with. The bed Sammy had been occupying was apparently his own. The brothers shared a room.

As Castiel occupied the bathroom he took a moment to examine himself in the mirror. There were still flecks of blood from the first time he was injured. His clothes were atrocious. His beard was also making itself known. Cas looked into his own eyes and asked himself if he was still sane. Is all of this an offshoot from his first injury? He could actually still be on the cold floor next to a dead body right now.

He clearly must be insane because until that moment, he'd forgotten about the Dead Body left to rot, with no proper burial, in some filthy basement. The image of what the corpse must look like now made Castiel a little sick. After he was done grooming himself for an illegal I.D so he could hide from his own family and help a fugitive; he then had to make an anonymous call about the murder he was involved in. In only 24 hours he'd destroyed the foundations of his life. He wasn't even entirely sure all of it was wrong.

As Cas made himself presentable he wondered how murky the road before him had become.

Dean grabbed a basic button up shirt and jacket for Cas to wear in the photo. He couldn't look the exact same in his photo as he does now. It'd be suspicious. The rest of the time he was left to wait on the priest to emerge. He didn't have much else to do. Dean's mind drifted over possible contacts in the cult. At least contacts that he and Sam hadn't already interrogated. Next he thought of the best seedy hotel they could stay in. Idly he drank, until the beer was gone.

Dean lay back on his bed as exhaustion swept over him. One hand behind his head, the other resting on his stomache. He felt his gun press into his side. It was uncomfortable physically, but comforting mentally. Dean wondered if Cas was armed. Hell if he'd ever even held a gun. Dean took a moment to imagine the stuffy priest handling something like a shotgun. He smiled a little. Cas's expression probably wouldn't even changed as it kicked back. Maybe then he'd make some comment on how primitive the weapon is.

The door opened and Castiel walked through. He looked clean and far better. Dean propped himself up onto his elbows to see the results. As blue eyes met green, it was like the first time they met all over again. Both men held their breath. Dean was familiar with Cas by now, and yet he found himself memorizing the blue gaze boring into him. He couldn't look away. If Castiel could read into him, then Dean should be able to as well. He saw something pure and intense. There was passion, and no way to express it. Castiel was a pent up ball, waiting to release itself. There were churning thoughts behind that sharp blue.

An eternity passed before Dean could pull himself away. The tension still clung to the air in the space between the two men. Dean rose unsteadily and tried to ignore his frantic heartbeat. "Well you look good, enough. Get changed into this for the photo. We'll wash the clothes you have. And you can borrow something of mine for tonight." Dean gave him the breakdown.

Castiel stepped closer to Dean, and Dean stopped breathing again. The priest was only moving to grab the shirt and jacket off the bed. Cas gave Dean a small genuine smile, still standing in his personal space, before flashing away.

Dean blinked at the emptiness a few times before collapsing onto the bed, and scrubbing his hands across his face. He'd have to talk to Cas about respecting personal space. This was getting weird for the Winchester.

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I kept typing shotfun instead of shotgun. I think that may be a bit of freudian slip. HAHA guess I need to get to the gun range soon.

I also heard some schools don't teach cursive anymore! Crazy right? So all my notes are written in cursive, just because, and trying to switch between cursive and print was a bit disorienting. Almost like translating. So that's the excuse I'm going to use for any grammatical errors in this chapter :P