"Dean...Dean! Wake up..."

Dean is doing his best to ignore the voice that's attempting to draw him out from his slumber.

He's a man that's been to hell and back, so sleep of any kind is rare, and it doesn't happen often. He survives mostly on cat naps, stolen moments in the Impala, dozing fitfully when he can manage to convince Sam to grab food, pump the gas, or rent their hotel room. When he does sleep, it's never for long.

He's accustomed to nightmares, sitting bolt upright at 3am in a cold sweat, shaken because the touch of Alistair's steel against his skin was so real just a moment ago, so tangible, that he always checks to see if he's actually bleeding.

He hasn't had an actual solid 8 hours in...well it feels like forever.

He's inclined to shoot at the owner of the voice first, and deal with the consequences later, but he can hear Sam in his head now, whining at him about making a mess in the hotel room. 'Blood doesn't come out of carpet Dean, god!' He envies his brother, the fact that he still has the ability to worry over such trivial things.

He groans into his pillow. This had best at least be worth getting up for.

Cracking his eyes gingerly, he finds himself staring up into blue eyes, getting caught in the depths of them for just a moment, like he always does. There's only one pair of eyes this shade of incandescent blue. Ah. Cas. His own personal angel, bearer of bad news and such. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Really Cas?" He says gruffly, already entertaining the idea of punching the angel for the millionth time. It never hurts Castiel, but it relieves the irritation sometimes. And Cas usually heals his hand afterwards. "Dude, I was sleeping. Like real sleep." The angels breath ghosts over his cheek and he scrubs at his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "And Cas, We've discussed personal space a billion times..."

"I know. I apologize Dean. You were just sleeping very deeply, and I thought if I were closer, perhaps you'd hear me more clearly."

Dean rubs at his eyes with balled up hands, and blinks. He opens his mouth to say something sharp and biting to express his displeasure, but the sentiment dies on his lips. His eyes widen and Cas does his signature head tilt.

"What is the matter Dean?" Cas asks, voice tinged with curiosity.

"Castiel...is there a reason that you're...uh, a girl?"

Cas looks down at himself...herself, and then back to Dean. His..HER face flushes slightly, and Dean wonders how on earth he didn't notice the change in voice earlier.

"It's not really of import." Cas says gravely, and girl Castiel moves to wake Sam, who's snoring blissfully on the other twin bed.

"Uh dude, I strongly disagree! You did a total body swap! You had best fucking explain!" He demands, sitting up, and Castiel stares at him, pinning him down with those eyes and he sighs, this delicate, girly thing and it so fucking weird, that it sends a shiver down his spine, like someone just pressed cold hands into his skin.

"Very well. I will explain when Sam is awake." Is all he/she says and proceeds to wake up Sam, similar to the way he was woken up, except that Sam doesn't ease out of sleep, he sort of snaps out it, and upon seeing a strange girl hovering above him, he proceeds to jump out of his skin, calling Deans name, already whipping our Ruby's old knife and stabbing it into Cas' shoulder.

Cas frowns, and looks the handle protruding from his/her flesh, before yanking it out and handing it back to a very freaked out Sam.

"Hello Sam," Cas says in his signature monotone voice, an octave higher than they're used to. Sams jaw drops, and Dean swears he can see the wheels in his freakishly large head start to turn.

"C-Cas?" He stutters out finally, and Cas tilts his head again.

"Yes it's me," he/she says, a note of irritation creeping into his/her voice.

Sam looks to Dean, and Dean shrugs his shoulders.

"Dude, I don't fucking know. Don't ask me ask...her?" He points at Cas who sighs.

"Calm down boys. We have much to discuss..."