The room smelled pleasantly of incense, pure jasmine. Of course, a bunch of Buddha statues and other heresies for meditation are certainly important paraphernalia.

Your steps were almost weightless in this room. In the very corner - a place surrounded by jambs - a man was sitting, his hair was disorderly tousled, and his head was thrown back up. A wide grin lit up Cas's face as soon as he registered your presence.

Through all this shit, particularly the fact that he was now human, Castiel had randomly succumbed to human vices, striving to perhaps feel what it was like to be human. Perhaps he simply wanted to drown out this feeling in his soul, the feeling of his own helplessness of this material body.

Thank God you were on par with Dean, you hunted, you even became actually his right hand. You often visited Castiel, but you never encouraged his actions. It was funny, however, perhaps that's what he liked, your even desire will leave a drop of the old Cas in him. Castiel, angel of God.

But now, the only thing left is a damn hippie, constantly stoned, just like now.

"Missy, you look stressed, you could use some..." he took a drag, blowing out a column of smoke. "... Several of my therapies." He smirked, tilting his head, leaning slightly towards you.