Castiel noticed that the other man didn't seem interested in eating so far. The bus started up and headed on its way down the hill. Castiel still remembered that the last time he had seen Dean, they'd been on a bus like this, trying to escape by cover of night, and yet that had all gone wrong. He knew that Dean hadn't died that night because he'd seen him as a visitor, but the memory was still an unsettling one.

He glanced back at the stranger when he was asked a question, forcing himself to focus on the conversation. "It depends on what you consider useful," he said after a pause. "The townspeople themselves don't have much information, but we're allowed to purchase things. There's an antique store, a sheriff's office, a hardware store, and a bar, among other things."

Personally, there wasn't much of interest for an angel who was already armed. He didn't deal much with material items to begin with, and so he suspected that most of his allotted currency would go to waste. He could try to pass it off to someone else who might need it, but he wasn't certain if the nurses would allow such a thing. The rules they functioned by seemed so arbitrary.