From the little experience that Castiel had with humans, he knew that Dean would most likely be hungry the next time he woke up. And this posed a bit of a dilemma for him; he had never had to purchase food on his own before.

Cas had contemplated for a while on whether he should simply take Dean out to choose and buy his own food once he awoke, however he knew that the conversation that would accompany the meal would most likely not be appropriate for public. If he knew Dean at all, he knew that he would not be quiet about asking his questions and voicing his opinions.

And besides, it was a miserable, rainy night anyway.

So that is how Cas came to be standing at the counter of a grungy backstreet diner – which he'd chosen for it's closeness and not at all its claim of having the 'best apple pie in town' – ordering food.

"I would like to purchase a burger and some pie," Castiel announced, startling the young woman behind the counter. She had been hunched over, the stance of one weary and beaten down, but she straightened up, brushing her dirty blonde hair over her shoulder and attempting a smile. She hadn't heard him come in; the bell above the door hadn't chimed and she quickly looked the man before her over.

He looked weary as well. Although he was clean-shaven and alert, there were creases enough in his forehead to match those in the long tan trench-coat he wore. Beneath the coat an equally wrinkled suit with a wonky navy tie was visible.

Castiel waited patiently as the woman – Sophie, her nametag told him, not that he needed it to – gathered her thoughts, then smiled at him and replied with a short 'of course'. Sophie then proceeded to ask him a series of questions that he had been prepared for: What kind of burger? Whatever is recommended. What flavour pie? Apple. Have here or take away? Take away, thank you.

At the last minute, Cas decided to order a second burger; Dean was bound to be very hungry, but on the off-chance that he didn't want it, well, Cas was quite fond of burgers if his memory served.

Castiel stood waiting patiently as the food was prepared. He discovered a growing desire to tell the troubled waitress that what she was worrying about was not her fault. He wanted to assure her that she was not to blame for her brother's suicide – he had suffered depression for many years, it was no-one's fault – and that he was safe in heaven now. The last time he did something of the like, however, Dean had scolded him for it. He'd been told he couldn't just say things like that to people. Apparently it's 'creepy'. Not to mention the reaction he'd gotten from the woman.
Castiel wondered why it was inappropriate for him to tell people things that should ease their minds and found himself surprised by the direction his thoughts were taking; he really, almost desperately, wantedto be able to help people. He held the greatest admiration for Dean for the work that he did as a hunter. He helped and saved people almost on a daily basis, so why was Castiel not able to use his abilities to do the same?

Sophie listened to the thunder of the storm outside, unaware of the thoughts of the angel standing mere metres from her, as she wiped down the tables and cleaned up ready for closing. It was unlikely they would have any more customers so late on such a stormy, wet night.

Soon the waitress was collecting the food from the kitchen. She handed it to Castiel and then following him to the door with the intention of locking it behind him and flipping the sign over to 'Closed'. As they neared the door she took another look at the weather outside and cringed.

"I wouldn't go out there right now if I were you. It's pouring. You'll get sick or swept away," she told the angel.

"I will be fine," he reassured her in a blank, unconcerned monotone.

"Are you sure? Do you have a car or someone you can call to get you?" For some reason she didn't think he did. "I'd feel terrible if something happened. Would you like me to call you a taxi?" She offered with a worried frown; it really was storming outside.

"Thank you for your concern, but I will walk." Castiel refused firmly. "The consequences are all my own. I have had free will for some time and am quite accustomed to dealing with them by now." He gave her something resembling a smile and exited.

It was after Castiel had left and trekked off into darkness down the street and after Sophie had stopped wondering about the strange manner of speaking the man had that she started to ponder something else. How in all of Heaven and Earth had the man gotten inside the diner dry in the first place?

A few moments later Cas was back in Dean's room at the motel. Noticing that Dean's bed was now empty, he called out towards the bathroom, where he assumed Dean must be considering he could hear water running.

"Dean, I have returned with sustenance."

A minute of two passed before Dean emerged from the bathroom. He was clean-shaven, washed and dressed in a clean set of clothes. He had found them in a duffel bag by the table and guessed that Castiel had left them there for him. He felt infinitely better than he had before the shower but he was still not well. The weariness he felt was bone-deep, maybe deeper. Purgatory had not done the kind of damage to Dean that Hell had, but he still felt it in his soul.

As Dean approached Castiel his expression was stony, guarded.

"Cas. We gotta talk."

"Yes," Cas responded, "but is it agreeable that we do it over dinner? I have burgers." He held up the takeout bag like a peace offering to Dean, his eyes wider than usual, hopeful. How was it that Cas could still manage to look so innocent after all he'd been through and all he'd done? And how was it that he was here, standing in front of Dean in some random motel, burgers in hand?

Dean couldn't help it. He cracked a small grin. He couldn't remember the last time he smiled and he could feel that in the muscles of his face. But damn did it feel good.