Castiel was never one to waste time, a trait evident to all who had crossed paths with him. The celestial bureaucracy demanded much of his attention, leaving little room for respite.

But today, the celestial duties had taken an unexpected turn, forcing him seek refuge in an unusual place—Earth.

He stood at the door, staring at it with quiet intensity. For several minutes, Castiel remained perfectly still, brow slightly furrowed. He knew he was supposed to be here—this was the location Dean had told him—but he couldn’t quite remember how humans made their presence known.

"Good evening," he greeted softly, though no one could hear him from the other side of the door. After a moment of awkward silence, he tilted his head, waiting patiently as if the door itself might answer.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he muttered to himself, "Am I… supposed to do something?"