And my motives used to be so pure.

He has, more than once, considered sleeping for Jimmy's benefit. The whole thing seems insensible, though, he he doesn't even know if he can sleep; eating is different, because he can stuff food into his mouth and swalow, and this body's stomach, like clockwork, understands. But sleeping is automatic, purely chemical, when the brain goes energy is required and releases chemicals that causes the eyes to droop and the heart to slow. There are stages, the last being the REM stage, where the body is paralyzed, and there are dreams.

(He knows dreams well and is, in some strange way, glad he gave up the power. He doesn't think he'd be able to resist watching Dean dream, this Dean who knows nothing about hell, or heaven, or God, or the vengeful, powerful Host, or the fate of his brother. This Dean is so simple, so happy and blissfully oblivious to how true and hard things are, and has not yet realized that eating and fighting can't solve all his problems.)

Castiel has slept before, briefly, when they averted the Apocalypse, and in his hurry to save Adam he sacrificed himself, banished his powers and not his grace. He ate, and he slept, and he voided waste; it felt so weak and vulnerable. He had to eat in Vegas, too, although the knowing impermanence of that made it seem less serious.

The day after the discussion with Arthas he walked around the boat. he had three meals. he laid down in his bed and closed his eyes (and even remembered to take off most of his clothes) and thought perhaps maybe some bits of humanity would crawl up around his grace and convince his vessel it was time to sleep. He'd been so warmly proud and so absolutely humbled that his vessel would have such confidence in him despite everything - he hadn't even known what to do. Eating seemed so minor. And sleeping seemed apparently impossible. He would have done anything, then, to let him go home. To drop everything for the Lord's servant that had sacrificed everything for him - twice, and for his child. But he knew, of course, that he couldn't. There was Dean, and the leviathans, and himself.

He could feel Jimmy's soul, pressed up against his grace, hot and tight like glue sticking him to this body. Like being strapped to comet. Guilt was becoming very familiar, these days.

When everyone is asleep he stands on the deck and stares up at space. Out there is Dean - his Dean, hell scars and broken soul and all, his best friend, his other half, the man who made him - and there are things he has to make right. Out there is Sam, with his badly broken wall that he made. And the Leviathans, which burst forth from his Grace, because he couldn't ask for Dean's help, not after everything. but Dean, of course, knew everything. He should have asked, he knows now. Out there is Crowley, who he let go like a worm. Out there is Bobby, who - he can feel Bobby isn't right, not now.

Out there is the rest of the Host - those which he didn't kill, of course. All his friends - Balthazar, and Rachel, and -- and everyone, it seems. Out there is his Father, somewhere, with some kind of plan, some kind of intention. He doesn't know it, but it must be there. Out there is Heaven, his home, beautiful choirs and the greenest grass and the colors so bright they hurt his eyes. And in Heaven are all those things that can't be explained with human words, because only angels can see them, unbound into these human vessels like clothes four sizes too small.

He looks forward to severing his contact with this body he has to wear, that he can be as big as he is, and powerful as he can be. Of course that means that he will never see or talk to Dean again, but that's how things should be. The interference of angels has done nothing for humanity. All it has done for Dean is teach him that his destiny is cruel, and unthinking, and those angels above disdain his whole species more than he thought possible.

When he frees Jimmy and returns him from his prison of his own body, he'll give the man everything he needs. Money, safety, anything. And maybe they'll stay in contact through the radio, asking how Claire is, how his family is, if he needs anything. Maybe Jimmy will never want to hear from him again - he wouldn't mind.

Dean will sleep too, after all. And there will be dreams without hell, or god, or the wrath of angels. Just the ocean, and fish. He'll say hello, and ask how Sam and Bobby is doing. Dean will say that they're well, and ask him for something unreasonable. He'll grant it, of course.