He didn't exactly know what he was getting himself into. To be honest, Castiel wasn't too sure about anything now, other than the fact that he had a new purpose for the first time in a very, very long time.

It was fulfilling, the idea of caring for someone who seemed to be needing him. He couldn't help Dean anymore so having Meg to care for seemed to be something Castiel looked forward to.

After a while it seemed easier; checking her everyday for healing on the damage the demon horde had inflicted on her, cleaning her wounds and gently talking to her.

She was unconscious for most of it; her body struggling to heal as she coped with the massive injuries. To be honest, Castiel wasn't sure how she was even still alive.

it's when she wakes up finally that Castiel starts to back off her, more of less just simply watching her from afar and keeping track of what she did and where she went.

Though she didn't do much. neither did the hunters or the refugees, they were all too busy trying to keep the demon raid under wraps and keep people calm and sane. The Croats also seemed to keep to themselves, backing off from attacks and it almost felt like the camp had a special force field that seemed to protect it.

"Why you doin' this, Clarence?" Meg asked when he changed her bandages again.

"You said something would come from our 'friends with benefits' deal. You could have killed yourself, but I owe you."

"No one owes me a damn thing," wincing at the hard touch of his hands on her sides. "It's why I keep sticking my head out I guess."

"I can see how that's a problem. Can you lift your arm?"

"I was liking you playing Barbie doll. You're soft."

He didn't know exactly how to take that, but he finished moving her around, pleased at how he managed to get her back to being comfortable and sliding off her bed to sit in the chair he'd brought with him.

"You don't reek, for once," Meg muttered when she rolled on her back. "I'm actually surprised. Run out of booze?"

"I haven't had time to resupply myself," Castiel leaned back in the chair, almost struggling just to get comfortable. "Been busy. With you."

"Cute."

"You'd be pleased anyway," he said, looking at her with softy eyes, "Because as I remember, you despised the stench. Though I could never smell it to begin with."

"You know you're much cuter when you're shutting up?"

She watched him look up at with a smile.

"So what, now? Head back and hit one up?"

"I was hoping you'd want me to stay. Honestly-"

"You want to stay?"

He blinked at her. "I wouldn't mind it. We have another mission tomorrow and I want to make sure you're alright before we leave."

She watched him disappear for a while, returning after a while with a ratty, hole-filled sleeping bag.

"Really?"

"Can't exactly sleep with you now, can I?" He replied as he flattened out the thin material.

"Why are you so sweet on me, Clarence?" Meg asked when he finally settled, laying face first on the top of the bag, not even caring that it was just slightly chilly in the small cabin.

"I don't know," he muttered, pressing his face into the bag and trying to sleep. She watched him for a bit, amused at how easily she could this sweet little angel. How easy it would be to slit his neck right now, how good it could feel.

How much she couldn't do it.