Saying it had been a long night would have been an understatement. Sam wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep. He didn't know what to expect upon waking either. Would his brother be good as new? Or would he face another day of staring down to the green-eyed terror? There was only one action to take. Sam rubbed the sleep from his eyes and groggily sat up, throwing his feet over the edge of the bed.

The first thing he noticed was that it was actually morning; late morning, by the sound of the traffic outside. Castiel was sitting right by the window, dutifully looking over Sam's notes. Sam sighed tiredly. He hadn't imagined that the angel would have stayed with his task for so long. Castiel turned to him, taking notice of his semi-conscious state.

"I found several places where these articles contradict themselves." He reported. Sam could tell that his voice was surprisingly raw. "I can understand your frustration with them. Meredith in particular has the worst penmanship I've come across since Joshua."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "The prophet?"

"Yes." The angel nodded curtly.

The story was a little difficult to believe but, everything considered, it must've been true. Castiel watched as Sam's gaze drifted across the room distractedly. He gestured down towards a sunny spot on the carpet just a short distance away. It wasn't long before Sam caught sight of his brother, who was sound asleep and curled up in the middle of the floor. Sam smiled and shook his head in disbelief.

"That answers one question." He muttered as he rose from the bed. "Hey, what time is it?"

Cas set the papers down and gazed out into the parking lot; he was intently studying the way the shadows had carved themselves into the asphalt.

"Eleven seventeen." He said as he turned back to Sam. "But that is merely an estimation. If you wanted the true time I would need seven more minutes. Which makes the process-"

"That's fine, Cas. Thanks." Sam replied. His voice was a bit sharper than he had intended. He stood and began making his way toward the coffee maker, being careful to step over the sleeping cat. "Have you found anything?"

"I believe we should visit the Morris' daughter." He seemed uncertain of himself. "It might be possible for me to wake her. She could have seen whatever it was that attacked her."

"That would be…a miracle. I'm sure her family would be really grateful."

Sam started the machine and turned around to lean against the counter. He turned his attention back down to Dean. He watched as one ear flicked attentively towards his voice. Dean liked waking up to the promising sound of a fresh brew in the works. So it was no surprise that the whirring of the machine had acted like an alarm clock for the cat. He stretched and made a very small noise, one that Sam thought was an inquiry, before opening his eyes.

"What was that?" Sam looked to Castiel for a translation.

The angel stood without hesitation. "He's hungry."

Sam turned towards the small beverage fridge near the microwave. He might have some left-over Chinese from the day before, but that was about it. Short of getting Dean some water he didn't know what would be safe for Dean to eat. As kids, they had never kept pets. Not for very long at least. This meant that, once again, the Winchesters were effectively out of their depths.

"Hold on." Cas disappeared as soon as the words were out of his mouth; he reappeared within seconds and Sam let out a sigh of relief.

Before Dean could open his mouth to complain again, a dish of warm milk was being lowered towards the carpet. Where the angel had gotten it from, or when, wasn't an issue for the cat. Dean was happy to get anything. And he had to admit, as undignified and ineffective as lapping milk from a bowl was, he had been through a rough day. Cas stepped back over to his place near the window as Dean drank quietly.

"You're pretty good at that."

Cas shrugged; an odd gesture to see coming from an angel. "I saw it in a children's show."

Sam poured himself a mug of coffee and moved over to glance at the research that'd been left out. Some of the papers had been crumpled, a few were folded over and some dog-eared. But Cas had made several names stand out with harsh, uneven circles of dark blue ink. He glanced up to Cas as he took another swig.

"These names that you circled? They're all victims?" Sam looked harshly at his mug. It was sweeter than he usually took it, but he wasn't ready to hike back to the other side of the room to pour it out. Oh well.

"Yes."

He pushed a few of the papers to the side to make room to set down his mug and sat down. Sam narrowed his eyes and exhaled. He was still overwhelmed by the paperwork in front of him. Whatever connections Castiel had discovered between the victims, Sam struggled to make heads or tails of them. It seemed that the angel didn't have the best handwriting either.

"Would you mind getting me up to speed here?"

"No." Cas paused. He continued only after catching sight of Sam's expectant expression. "Right. They're all related, either by blood or by name. Some of these people married into different families but they were born under the name 'Morris'. The other half of the victims were children who were also from the Morris bloodline."

"I thought it might have been a haunting. Like a vengeful spirit with a feud against the family." Sam knew something still didn't seem right about this, but it was difficult to put a finger on.

"That would appear to be the case, yes."

Sam stood, making the clear decision to abandon his coffee. If they were going to get anywhere with this case, the best thing they could do would be to head over to the hospital. They needed to interview the family. It was possible that someone might be able to put a name to an old grudge and then, if they could get a description of the ghost, their work would be nearly halfway done.

As Agent Kendrick, Sam had already visited several of the patients at Centerpoint Medical Center. The EMF had given him nothing. Reciting exorcisms had been unsuccessful. Whatever had been lurking around the small Missouri town wasn't playing nice. And so far, there hadn't been anything solid for him to work with. But now he was sure they would resolve the situation soon. He looked down to Dean, who had just finished with his own breakfast, before continuing on his way to the bathroom. A quick shower and a freshly ironed suit was all that he needed.

Dean watched as his brother cautiously walked around him. The cat shrank back to one side as he allowed the giant to pass. He rumbled softly as Sam disappeared into the bathroom. There was no way he would ever get used to being at such a height disadvantage.

"You should return to normal in a few days." Castiel said; Dean could see that he was still standing by the door. His refusal to meet Dean's gaze made the promise seem a little too good to be true. "I sense that the magic surrounding you is gradually fading."

When the angel finally looked down to the cat, Dean was sitting right by his side. He narrowed his eyes and glanced out into the parking lot once more. Perhaps Dean would appreciate a more interesting view. Surely he had grown tired of the grungy motel carpet?

In seconds, Cas had kneeled down and folded his hands underneath the small cat. Castiel hesitated when he began to lose his grip halfway up to the windowsill. He saw Dean's eyes go wide as he readjusted his hold. Dean froze; this could go wrong fast. He was really hoping that what he had heard about cats landing on their feet wasn't just hocus. His muscles tensed up in preparation for a less than eloquent landing.

They both let out a sigh of relief, Dean's came across as more of a hiss, as Cas set him down safely on the thin windowsill. There was just enough room for Dean to stand length wise against the glass and peer out. The view didn't exactly remind him of Monte Carlo but the passing cars and people gave him something to watch; something to keep his attention.

It wasn't long before his view was blocked by something rather unexpected. The cleaning lady had wheeled her cart down the sidewalk and had frozen upon seeing the cat. Her cart came to a sudden stop and Dean watched in fascination as the mop head twirled around like a crash-test dummy. He flattened himself down, almost like he was stalking prey, when he saw the movement. His green eyes narrowed maliciously. The flailing mop had triggered something primal in him. Then he stopped all at once; Dean straightened himself back up and shook his head. What was wrong with him? Despite appearances, he was not an animal.

Juanita, if her nametag was telling the truth, took a sharp breath before making the sign of the crucifix. She knew something hadn't been right about the way that cat moved; its eyes were almost human in expression. Castiel waved to the uneasy woman, though it was a futile attempt to calm her down. The cleaning lady stared into the room for only a second longer before she continued with her cart down the sidewalk. She didn't dare look back and wasted no time in disappearing from their view.

As soon as she had gone, the cat leapt into action. Dean turned from the window in a frenzy of motion and jumped down to the floor. He had enjoyed the view but it wasn't good that he had been seen. It was especially bad because he had been acting so aware. This cat thing was going to be a nightmare in more ways than one, it seemed. Dean gave a half-way shrug, twisting as he walked. He figured he might still survive it if Cas would stop picking him up.

The cat turned attentively to the back of the room as he heard a door open. Sam was just straightening his collar when he emerged from the bathroom. He saw a glance between the angel and cat and almost immediately felt that something was up. It was strangely quiet in the room but Sam didn't feel like pressing for answers.

"We'll have to speak with the surviving members of the family; see if they'll tell us about their enemies. That's after we get done at the hospital." Sam watched the cat as his tail swept from side to side. Dean could see that his brother was up to something. "I'm all ready to go. But I don't know what we should do with Dean. Should we leave him here? I mean, hospitals aren't exactly known for being warm and fuzzy."

Dean harrumphed and marched over to the door stubbornly. There was no way that he was being left here, not with Juanita in a panic. That had to be illegal or something. Like endangerment. They weren't going to rid of him that easily. Dean huffed and turned his back to the door to glare up at Sam from across the room.

"He should come with us. It is my duty to watch over him." Cas said pointedly as Sam double checked that he had the correct badge on his person. "And your brother is stubborn. I don't believe Dean will allow us to leave without him, even in this form."

Damn straight he wouldn't. Dean rose, making room for Sam to open the door. He followed his brother into the parking lot, trailing behind him like some kind of bloodhound. Sam lead them to a beat-up silver Buick and turned sharply as he neared the trunk. He reached out to pop the back door open for his brother. Dean never had liked the back seat. Hell, he hadn't known anyone who did. The cat hesitated only for a moment on the warm asphalt before leaping into the car with a grumble. The back seat wasn't as bad as he had imagined it to be. It was, in fact, worse. He was on edge the second his paws hit the felt interior but he wasn't sure why.

He heard the door shut behind him and watched as Cas and his brother got settled in up front. Sam was pulling his seatbelt on as a thought crossed his mind. "You guys drove down to Florida, didn't you?" He glanced over to Cas and motioned for him to buckle up too. "What happened to the Impala?"

"Dean's car?" The angel paused; he struggled with the odd contraption. "I left it with a devout man in Tampa; a pastor of twenty years. I trust him-"

Sam looked up to the rearview mirror for signs of traffic as the angel continued his monologue. He caught sight of Dean, who had begun to pace in the back seat, but Dean didn't acknowledge him. The cat was preoccupied with discovering why he didn't like the back seat. Or why this one in particular was making him feel so uncomfortable. He could smell stale fries and years of spilt colas, sure. But stuff like that was expected.

Then he froze. Hell no. Above all else, Dean absolutely hated the smell of wet dog. And that was all it took. There was no way he was staying in the back seat any longer. He made his move, leaping from the back seat to the front of the car. It wasn't a particularly impressive feat, but it was a surprising action nonetheless.

"People tell me that he has a way with words. Which probably has something to do with his history as a smuggler-" Castiel stopped talking midsentence and looked down to the small, black cat that had just appeared.

Though Dean seemed just as surprised to find himself in the angel's lap, he was too stubborn to let it show. He liked to think that he had a good poker face. Dean sat there for a moment, the end of his tail sweeping back and forth mischievously. Sam could see that as awkward as the situation seemed to be, from where he was sitting at least, Dean was unwilling to budge. The cat decided to lie down after another quiet minute. He tilted his head to the side to look up to Cas. All things considered, the angel seemed to accept his company, and after a moment things in the car returned to semi-normal.

Sam started the car and the engine sputtered to life. The radio started up and Dean turned his full attention to the hunk of junk that his brother had been parading around in. What had, at first, only been a mess of static became clearer to the cat within seconds. Dean rumbled in irritation as he recognized the lyrics to "Hey There Delilah". The Plain White T's were far from his favorite band and he never had been able to listen to a love song with a straight face.

Dean huffed again. Before he could throw a proper hissy fit, Sam went into action. He reached down to change the station for his brother but a word from Castiel made him hesitate.

"Can you leave it here? This song was a favorite of the garrison when it first came out." Cas muttered more to himself than anyone else. "All of Heaven was mumbling it for weeks afterwards. It was eventually given its own wavelength."

The song was allowed to continue playing, much to Dean's annoyance, as Sam backed the car out of the space. The cat came close to rolling his eyes. Once they reached the road, Dean looked up to Cas and caught the angel smiling absentmindedly. It wasn't that great of a song in his books but he supposed that it had its audience. His tail seemed to take on a mind of its own as it flicked back and forth just the slightest in time with the music.

Dean shifted in Cas' lap as they took a harsh turn and Cas instinctively reached out to keep him from falling down onto the floorboards. He glanced down to Dean. Was that okay? The cat side of him was comfortable with the sensation, and Dean had to agree with it for once. It was protective, not restrictive, and the cat allowed Castiel to act as his guardian angel for the trip. As odd as it would sound, this was one of the better car rides Dean had been on in his life.