Castiel always enjoyed the small things that made life human.

Small phone booths, those amazing milkshakes at old diners, small statues to commemorate important people, it was all so… amazing.

Since becoming a fallen angel, since his wings have been too broken to fly, Castiel has opted for driving everywhere— choosing a 1978 Lincoln Continental Mark V, something Dean described as a ‘pimp car’.

Though, something was different with this drive.

As he drove down the secluded road, either side littered with trees and a vastness of forest, he noticed something— rather someone on the side of the road. The power emanating off of them was strong, much more powerful than any angel.

Carefully, he pulled over and exited his car.

His gruff voice spoke up, breaking the silence. “Do you need any assistance?” He asked, unable to gauge what this… creature was.

He approached them, keeping a reasonable distance. They looked young, not a day over 16. Perhaps it was another angel?

It was too strong, and he couldn’t sense a particular or familiar energy inside of them. Could it be a nephilim?