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With Hannah out of the picture, Castiel had no way of confiding himself in Heaven anymore. Having no home or any other angels to guide him, he took up one of the Winchester’s offers. That offer was that Castiel could stay with the two boys in the Men of Letter’s bunker. After lessening majority of the angel warding in the bunker (courtesy of Sam’s picked up spell knowledge from Rowena), Castiel was able to make himself at home. Home sweet bunker.
At first it was odd, almost intimidatingly lonesome. The angel was left alone a lot when the Winchester’s would go on hunts, left alone at night when the two slept, left alone when one would lock himself in his room while the other pounded on the door with begs to be let in.
During the solemn nights, Castiel made a habit of sitting in the library. Not to read, not to do research, but just as a safe space to simply exist as one of God’s many disappointments. Castiel never considered boredom to even be a choice during these nights, they just were times of being. But, the comfort of these waked nights completely halted when Mary had sat in the library in the deep of the night.
Tiredly she asked him why he was awake, he of course replied saying, “I don’t sleep.” Mary found it bittersweet and muttered out how she wished she had that ability. She obviously hadn’t been taking in the new life she had very well… Castiel would offer her things, a chat, a book, a glass of water, one of Dean’s beers; Mary always politely refused.
Then she left.
Castiel watched the bittersweet goodbyes between her and her sons, noticing the tears welling up in Dean’s emerald eyes and the slight tremor in Sam’s hands when he hugged his mom goodbye.
That night he sat alone again in Mary’s spot in the library. Unable to put together his restlessness, the angel stood up from his chair. A sigh escaped him and he leaned against the table. The feeling of nothing needed to be filled, and Castiel had no idea how to fill it. He considered many things; drink a beer, walk around the bunker, or go on a nighttime walk. But none of these worked.
He found himself standing in the door ajar doorway of Dean’s room.
Knowing that Dean disliked it when Castiel watched him sleep, nap, or rest, the angel did not have a single care. His deep blue eyes bore into Dean’s back, watching as his chest expanded and lowered, how his hands twitched slightly at times. Eventually he gave into a feeling he could not describe.
Castiel walked into the hunter’s bedroom, not making a single noise. But no noise or not, Dean knew he was there. Dean opened his dreary eyes and stared at Castiel, not with fear or horror that he was watching him sleep, but out of curiosity as to why, and full of care to if the angel needed something. God forbid, he needed something.
“Cas?” His voice came out like gravel. Castiel watched as he rolled over on his side to face him.
“Hello, Dean.” Castiel tried to play it casual as if he hadn’t just been watching Dean sleep for the prior of forty-five minutes.
“What the hell are you doing, watching me sleep?” Dean ran a hand down his face. “Go watch Sam sleep instead, or is he not as entertaining as me doing nothing in bed?”
Sighing at Deans pries, Castiel sat down on the edge of the bed and replied with, “Can I try sleeping with you?” He of course did not understand any implication of that statement.
Dean knew Castiel didn’t mean what he said, the angel had a habit of having human sayings blow over his head.
“Not only do you want to try sleeping, you want to try sleeping in the same bed as me?” Dean groaned out. He sat up and put his hand firmly on Castiel’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Y’know what? I don’t care if ya do, I’m too tired to care. Now lie down, shut up, and sleep.”
“Yes, Dean.” The angel quickly nodded and lied down beside Dean. It was apparent that Dean really was too tired to care since he was letting Castiel, still in his trench-coat and slacks, sleep in his bed.
“And don’t hog the blanket either, I get cold easy.” Dean huffed out, tugging the single blanket over his shoulders. Castiel didn’t reach for the other edge of the blanket, he was an angel and didn’t feel temperature anyway. Not that he wanted to disturb Dean’s sleep too.
When Dean’s breathing eased out and was clearly unconscious, Castiel let out a quiet withheld sigh. He didn’t feel any human tiredness, but he felt an equivalent of peace in his angelic being. Soon his mimicking of Dean’s closed eyes would lull him off to a soothing rest. Sleeping, he found out, was much better than sitting in a library for hours in the night. Especially with Dean by his side.