As you'll see from this chapter, I've kind of brought Cas more into the loop regarding 'Ezekiel' and chilled Gadreel out a tad. Enjoy!

I fall asleep so easily that I almost feel like no time has passed when I open my eyes again. However, despite the lack of daylight to show me that it's hours later, I'm immediately aware that I've been asleep because I've somehow moved, with no memory of doing so.

Instead of lying neatly on my back, I'm sprawled on my stomach, face pressed against the outside of a warm, cotton-clad shoulder. I have one arm wedged under my pillow and the other draped heavily across the abdomen of the body attached to said shoulder.

Blinking blearily and pulling my head back, I see that Dean is still on his back, head lolling away from me and resting on the arm that's raised and folded behind it. His other arm is trapped beneath my stomach, fingers curled around my hip, wrist pressed dangerously close to an area which is already presenting troubling behaviour. I shift and bite back a moan as my semi-erection rubs against the mattress. Is this part of sleep too? Or is this part of being close to Dean for a prolonged period of time? I scowl to myself. Bad enough that my emotions are defying my control, but if I can no longer ignore and suppress my physical attraction to Dean then I really am in trouble. I concentrate hard, but my ability to banish an erection appears to have been yet another useful perk of my grace.

Sighing, I decide to wait for a while and see if it goes away by itself. I'm aware of what can be done to solve the problem, but I'm also fairly certain that it's considered rude to masturbate in the presence of another human. I close my eyes and the idle thought of touching that part of me in Dean's bed, next to Dean himself, sends shivers of heat across my skin. My eyes flash open in shocked dismay; the problem just got abruptly worse. I swear in an annoyed half-whisper and then freeze as Dean twitches awake with a throaty noise and a small stretching movement. The stretch drags his arm against sensitive, engorged flesh through the thin layer of my boxers and I smash my face into the mattress to swear again, before sliding clumsily down and away from Dean. When I look up again, he's staring at me with sleepy surprise in his verdant eyes.

"Shit, Cas, I forgot you were here," he says simply, voice deep and thick. His hand freed from beneath me, he stretches both arms above his head, the sheets slipping down to pool at his waist. I eye his t shirt-clad torso and flexed biceps distractedly, shifting uncomfortably. It's definitely not going away. I miss my grace so much. At least he didn't appear to notice that he touched my erection, however briefly. I fold my arms beneath my cheek and frown at him from the far side of the bed, watching as he settles with his arms still resting above his head. He gazes at me, his expression slightly wary. I stare back and think grumpily, not for the first time ever, that he's really beautiful immediately after waking. This doesn't please me. I need him to stop being appealing, just for five minutes, so that my overly excitable human body can sort itself out.

"You were swearing," he finally says quietly. He smirks and looks up at the ceiling. "You hardly ever swear."

I shrug carefully and my voice comes out tense and throaty. "Maybe it's a human thing."

He continues to stare upwards, looking thoughtful. "So human you is emotionally unstable, clingy, and grumpy in the mornings. Good to know."

My frown deepens, but my annoyed mood is finally wearing my physical predicament down, to my relief. "I make a pretty awful human, then."

Dean glances at me, contrition flickering across his stubbled face. "Sorry, Cas. That's not what I meant, you're fine. You're adjusting, that's all."

I smile slightly, shifting my head on my arms, and his answering smile turns to a slight grin as he gazes at me with disarming affection. His soft eyes move across my face and linger on my messy hair. He opens his mouth to say something and then shuts it again, cheeks flushing as he turns away and sits up. My eyes follow him as he swings his legs out and stands, his back to me. I suddenly realise that I'm no longer hard at all and I blow out a breath in relief, my whole body relaxing.

Now that my inconvenient human physiology is no longer bothering me, I feel weirdly happy as I watch Dean wander across the room and pull his robe on, belting it securely. Stretching my arms above my head and pressing my face into the bed, I inhale Dean's smell - different now that I'm human, yet somehow the same - and grin, closing my eyes again. I hear Dean clear his throat.

"You getting up?"

"Yes," I mumble, turning my head just enough to make the words audible. "I just really enjoy being in your bed."

There's a short silence before Dean replies, voice cracking oddly. "For fuck's sake, Cas. Still no trouble saying weird shit, then."

I roll over and sit up, cocking my head in confusion. "What's weird?"

"You, Cas, always," he says wryly, shaking his head, but his eyes are warm on me. "OK, well once you feel up to it, come grab breakfast. And, um, don't mention to Sam that you slept in here, yeah?"

I'm already clambering out of bed; my stomach is growling at the mention of food. I'm sort of impressed by how efficiently it responds to any kind of stimulus, even if it's not always the way I want it to. I squint at Dean, puzzled by his request.

"Why, Dean?"

He dithers on the spot, face tense. "Just don't. He'll be weird about it."

"I was upset and you helped me. I'm very grateful, by the way. That's not weird."

"Cas!" Dean explodes, glaring, green eyes acidic. "Just fucking don't say anything, alright?"

I wrinkle my nose but nod unhappily. "Fine. I don't like lying to Sam though, especially when we're already lying about Ezekiel."

Dean looks pained at that, but he shrugs jerkily. "Lying is an important part of being human."

I roll my eyes and walk past him, opening the door wide to step into the hallway. I immediately freeze. Sam is walking past, stretching linked fingers behind his back, but he stops short at the sight of me. His eyes and mouth widen comically and my stomach feels suddenly heavy and tight. I slowly turn around to stare at Dean, who's gone pale and looks as though he's feeling nauseous.

"Sorry," I say weakly.

Dean shuts his eyes as Sam gives a snort of laughter. I turn back to face him and he's grinning widely, hazel eyes sparkling.

"What's this?"

"Not what it looks like," Dean snaps from behind me. "Cas was just... He had a nightmare, OK? That's it."

"I was very upset," I confirm, nodding. "If the implication here is that Dean and I had sexual intercourse, I'm afraid that's not the case, Sam."

Sam's eyebrows shoot upwards and I hear Dean make an odd spluttering, protesting noise. I whip around, concerned that he might be choking somehow. He's staring at me with a furiously red face, eyes wide and mouth screwed up. It's hard to tell what emotion he's trying to express, but he doesn't seem able to vocalise it, so I shrug and walk past a quietly laughing Sam.

"I would appreciate assistance in making food, please," I call back over my shoulder.

Dean sits in silence at the kitchen table with a coffee while Sam shows me how to use the kettle, the toaster and how much milk to add to cereal. He promises that we'll do a cooked breakfast tomorrow, but I'm already quite fascinated by the spread of food in front of me. I carry my bowl and plate over to the table and sit opposite Dean, thanking Sam as he deposits a coffee in front of me. Dean's eyes dart towards me and he shifts awkwardly in his seat. I smile serenely and hold his gaze as I take a sip of my coffee, only to splutter and scowl at the bad taste. He breaks out into a grin.

"Sugar?" he asks. I frown in confusion and he gets up from the table, grabbing a ceramic jar from the counter. He opens it and shows me the white crystals inside.

"I know what sugar is, Dean," I say a little impatiently. "Why would I put it into this drink?"

He sits back down, frowning at me. "Cas, didn't you eat anything on the way here?"

I think back. I certainly didn't eat anything for the first day, when I was wandering up the side of a deserted highway, but once I got a ride... "The driver of the truck I got a ride on bought me a bottle of water and a packet of potato chips. They said 'salty' on the packaging so I guess that is what salt tastes like. I'm not sure I liked it much, it was very overpowering. It stung my lips. I enjoyed the water very much though."

Dean looks curious. "And you seriously couldn't taste anything when you had your mojo?"

"Of course I could. I could taste each individual molecule which made up the flavours in food. It was very interesting. That's not tasting in the way that humans experience it, though."

Dean nods slowly and then holds out the sugar again. "Try a little bit, just a pinch."

He's watching me closely as I reach into the jar and bring out a pinch of the hard granules. Cautiously, eyes closed, I open my mouth and slowly draw my tongue between my finger and thumb. A surprised noise escapes me and my eyes flutter open. "Oh, I like that much more."

Dean is smiling faintly, eyes never leaving my face. He murmurs softly: "You have a sweet tooth."

I frown in confusion, pressing my tongue against the roof of my mouth to try to capture more of the pleasant flavour, then running it cursorily around my teeth. "None of my teeth taste like sugar."

Dean chuckles warmly. "Nah, it's an expression, means you like sweet flavours."

I smile in understanding and we stare at each other for a moment before Sam's amused voice breaks the silence. "Well, I'm glad we established that. You going to add some sugar to your coffee, Cas?"

I look at Sam, nodding slowly. "How much?"

But Dean is already spooning sugar into my drink and stirring it around, cheeks slightly pink as he shoots an annoyed glance at his brother. I grin my thanks and take another sip, eyes widening in approval. "That's much better. It doesn't taste so..."

I struggle for the word and Dean pipes up helpfully. "Bitter?"

I shrug. "Probably."

I try the toast with peanut butter, and even though I can taste that saltiness again it's much softer and warmer this time. I pronounce it pleasant and then try the cornflakes with milk. I dislike the damp texture and mild flavour immediately and Dean shrugs, spooning sugar onto them before pulling them towards him and eating them himself. Sam kindly makes me more toast, adding fruit jelly on top of the peanut butter this time, and the flavour is what I imagine humans are referring to when they say 'delicious'. Both brothers are chuckling at my delighted expression when Sam suddenly stiffens in his chair, eyes glowing blue-white.

"Dean," he says, voice flat and low. He turns to me, eyes that familar grey-brown again but not at all Sam. "Castiel."

"Ezekiel," says Dean in surprise, and I narrow my eyes in confusion, setting down my toast. I don't recognise this as the angel I know. But then I remember that I'm human now, I can't see true forms or souls, and I haven't spent time with Ezekiel in years anyway. Dean is asking what the angel wants and I focus on his response.

"I want to let you know that Sam is making progress," Sam's voice and face tell us politely, coolly. "I am healing him slowly but thoroughly. He's on track to becoming healthy again."

"Good," says Dean, relief clear in his voice. "That's great, thank you."

Ezekiel inclines his head and then turns his borrowed gaze onto me, frowning slightly. "Castiel. I understand you are staying here indefinitely?"

I'm slightly stung by his lack of greeting but I nod anyway. "Yes. It's good to see you, brother. Thank you for saving Sam."

He nods dismissively. "I am concerned by your presence here, brother. You have many enemies. Surely you endanger us all."

I frown deeply, but Dean cuts across me before I can reply, his tone sharp. "What are you getting at? You want him to go?"

My stomach twists as Ezekiel tilts his head at Dean. "Yes, I think that would be wise."

"Well, he's not going anywhere," Dean says fiercely, and I'm glad he doesn't look at me, because I've never done a worse job of keeping my love for him off of my face. "This place is warded to the hilt. Besides, most angels probably think Cas is dead."

"That won't last for long."

"Well, like I said, you're safe here. Cas stays, that's non-negotiable."

Ezekiel scowls and it looks remarkably like Sam's trademark 'bitch face', as Dean calls it. My heart is beating hard as he turns the face onto me. "You are content to endanger us by staying?"

The question tears at me and I look away, hating that he's right. I've gone from being Sam and Dean's greatest protector to presenting a possibly fatal weakness for them. I raise my gaze to Dean and speak reluctantly. "Maybe I should go."

His eyes blaze green fire at me and his tone is final when he speaks. "Hell, no. You're safer here, we're safer here, and Ezekiel is safer here. You are staying."

I smile gratefully at him and I manage to stop the tears from falling this time, although they're still there, unwanted and embarrassing. Ezekiel sighs from beside me.

"Very well. But if there is a hint of danger here, if I think for a moment that his presence has attracted trouble to us, I will leave. And Sam will die."

Dean swallows and for a moment, he looks unsure. But then he glances back at me and his face sets. "OK, but you won't have to. We won't be attacked here. No one can find the bunker."

Ezekiel looks unhappy and annoyed, but nods sharply once. Abruptly, his face melts into a handsome laugh, and Sam is back in those warm multi-coloured eyes. I slump with relief, feeling light-headed. Sam's chuckle dies as he looks between us, at our tense faces and clenched fists. His face falls into confusion; from his perspective, we've gone from happy smiles to shuttered frowns in the blink of an eye. "Whoa, what's wrong, guys?"

Dean forces a grin. "Nothing, Sammy. Uh, PB&J really is magical, huh Cas?"

I look down at my forgotten toast and slowly raise it to my mouth, taking a bite. I nod solemnly and Sam snorts, getting up from the table to go rinse out his mug. Dean and I stare at each other in silence.