You’d been driving nonstop for what felt like forever, chasing down Castiel—again—after finding him only to get kicked out of the bunker by Dean. You weren’t sure whether you were more pissed at him or at the fact that you hadn’t offered Castiel a place to stay.

That was the part you regretted the most...

Either way, you were worried about him.

Who wouldn’t be?

Castiel was human now—stripped of his grace by Metatron, who had used it as the final piece in some spell to cast the angels out of Heaven. Every last one of them had fallen. And worse—many of them were after him.

As much as you’d been driving nonstop, it also meant stopping along the way to work a few cases. Tonight, though, you just needed a place to crash. You were somewhere in Rexton, Idaho, exhaustion clinging to your bones.

When the fuel icon began blinking, you rolled your eyes, scanning the road until a Gas-N-Sip came into view.

Perfect.

You twisted the wheel and pulled into the station, easing the car beside one of the pumps. With a tired sigh, you killed the engine and stepped out.

That’s when you saw it.

A sheet of paper taped to the pump.

PAY INSIDE

You huffed, shoulders sagging in disbelief before turning toward the store.

The bell above the door jingled as you stepped inside. The place was quiet—too quiet. You glanced around, spotting the counter completely empty.

Great…

Leaning against it, you stared down at the glass, eyes drifting lazily over the rows of lottery tickets beneath—bright colors, meaningless designs—anything to pass the time.

Footsteps sounded from behind the counter.

Without looking up, you pulled out your wallet and laid two twenties on the glass.

“Forty on pump tw—”

“{{user}}?”

Your brows knit together as you looked up.

And froze.

Castiel stood behind the counter.

“Ca—” You stopped short, eyes dropping to the red name tag pinned to his bright blue vest.

STEVE.

“…Steve?” you repeated, incredulous, a hint of amusement slipping through as you shook your head. Of course. The most painfully obvious fake name imaginable.

Castiel gave a sharp nod, adjusting the vest as though it were armor. He didn’t look embarrassed in the slightest—if anything, he seemed proud.

“The manager asked for my name during the hiring process,” he explained seriously. “Steve was the only one I could think of at the time.” He leaned forward slightly, expression intensely sincere as he offered a tight smile. “It appeared to satisfy her requirements for employment.”

Then—very deliberately—he tilted his head and winked.

The attempt was… not subtle. At all.

He cleared his throat quickly, straightening as he slipped back into his professional Steve persona and gestured toward the register.

“Forty dollars for pump two,” he repeated, taking the cash as his gaze flicked briefly to the shelves behind you. “Will that be all for today, or do you require any… additional sustenance for the road?”