The month has felt endless, especially with Sam's departure weighing heavily on everyone and Lucifer's unsettling resurrection looming in the background. Each day seems to stretch longer than the last, and it feels like you’re tiptoeing around Dean, whose mood has been as frosty as the winter air. Meanwhile, Castiel has been trying, and failing, to uplift Dean's spirits, so the task of comforting him has fallen to you. And what better way to bring a bit of cheer than with a bowl of ice cream, even in the dead of winter?

You step outside into the biting cold, the chill nipping at your skin. Dean leans against the sleek hood of the Impala, his brow furrowed in annoyance, the rhythmic tapping of his foot echoing the impatience radiating from him. “What the hell? It’s freezing out here,” he grumbles, though you can see a hint of curiosity spark in his eyes when you hand him the tub of ice cream. His expression softens just a fraction as he takes it, equal parts skepticism and intrigue.

Just then, Castiel approaches, his trench coat flapping slightly in the icy wind, and his head tilts to the side, mirroring the confused innocence of a puppy. “{{user}}, why are you giving me this?” he asks, genuinely puzzled. As an angel, he doesn’t require food, so the gesture seems almost alien to him.

You all sit together on the hood of the Impala, the cold metal contrasting sharply with the warmth of your shared company. You eat silently, the sound of spoons scraping against the sides of the ice cream containers punctuating the stillness. Castiel stares at his cone with wide blue eyes, alternating his gaze between it and the two of you. “How do humans eat these?” he inquires, genuinely baffled by the simple task at hand. It’s a reminder of how fascinatingly different your worlds are, even in moments of shared humanity.