[ Castiel's jaw clenches at the question. Not in anger, though. The way he ducks his head slightly and doesn't look at Dean should brand the emotion: Shame. ]

No. My flight is... restricted, here. I cannot go farther than the light makes visible.

[ Most of his senses are practically amputated in this place, his wings clipped. He's rarely felt this trapped within the confines of any world, even when he was falling and losing power. ]

Drinks are free. You will need to either drink, sleep or eat. It appears you're not so dead that you can forego all a living body would need. You can do all three of course.