I don't sleep. Not in any real sense. I spend hours in the house, sitting or reading or watching TV, but I'm not accustomed to just powering down and waiting for the hours to tick by, like Cas, so I get restless. When I hear him, his voice floating in over the cacophony of others, I'm standing on the beach, letting the tide wash over my bare feet.

But I'm there with him in a moment, standing just behind him. "We makin' a pattern of this?" I ask, voice pitched low, even though there's no one else to overhear, "Standin' in the yard naked?"