Maybe. There's even a door it can shut to keep people out, if it really wants to, unlike sleeping on Crowley and Aziraphale's couch. (Don't go getting carried away, now, pal. Sergeant, there you are.) There shouldn't be relief at hearing a voice in your own head come back online, but oh well, it's still feeling it.

It drifts over to the bed and sits on the edge, looking around from the new vantage point. Its brain is fully (mal)functioning again. Its warmer, if still a little damp from the rain. It's tired.

It makes a sudden, jaw-popping yawn. How's that for personhood, Misty.