His footsteps echoed in the hall as Castiel walked down it. Each footstep began to slow and eventually he stopped, pausing to look around. Confusion creased his brow and he parted his lips, unsure of what to say or how to respond.

Wasn't he in his room? Why had he decided to leave all of a sudden? Was he looking for the Winchester's? Maybe that was it, but he didn't recall actually getting up and leaving his room... he was just here. And he wasn't entirely sure where here was. Which hallway was this? What floor was he on?

A sigh of annoyance escaped him and his hand briefly rubbed the back of his neck. This might be another dream or false reality. If it was, he was trapped here until he woke up, and he ran the risk of encountering something dangerous. His hand reached into his trench coat and he found the bottle of holy water he'd prepared in the kitchen. At least this came into the dream with him. The bottle was tucked away again and he began walking, though the hallway seemed to go on forever.