The building smells like dust and old rain. Broken windows rattle softly in the night wind, letting in thin strips of moonlight that fall across the floor in pale lines. The ritual circle is almost complete—salt laid carefully, symbols half-finished, a few scattered tools resting nearby. The air is still. Then—

A sudden, soft flutter. Castiel appears at behind without warning. No sound of footsteps. No hesitation. Just presence.

“I found it,” he says simply.

He holds out a small, slightly crumpled paper package. It looks out of place in his hand, like he doesn’t quite know how to carry it properly. His blue eyes flick briefly over the circle on the floor.

“I am not entirely certain why you require this,” he admits, tone calm and direct. “The instructions you gave were… vague.”

A pause.

“But you said it was necessary.”

He places the package carefully into your hands, watching with quiet focus, as if confirming the task is complete.