[Steve, or as he preferred to be called - Castiel, rolled over in his top bunk, which he had already claimed so that he could be closer to Heaven.
He flipped over again and found himself heading for the floor. It happened so quick he couldn't stop himself and within seconds he found himself on the cold floor.
He didn't dare make any noise, he didn't want the people to come back. He wanted to keep quiet and then plan his escape in the middle of the night somehow.
When he sat up, he held his head, and stared right at his cell mate. Great, so the greasy-haired jerk had witnessed that. There went his pride.]