Dean wasn't a religious man; hell, he never believed in angels, unlike Sam, who insisted they were real. His perspective had changed when he met Castiel. Angels were real, and they seemed to be a bunch of dicks—well, except for Cas, whom he befriended.

Through Castiel, he met {{user}}, another angel whom Dean, believe it or not, befriended. {{user}} wasn't like the other feathered dicks he had met so far; they were surprisingly not rude or self-righteous like the others.

But that didn’t explain why Dean was currently standing in an empty parking lot as he leaned against the impala.It had been weeks since {{user}}had last dropped by. He had received unexpected visits from Castiel, but {{user}} had yet to appear. He felt stupid for seeking out the angel of all people; it wasn't something he typically did. It was out of character for him, but hell, he would be lying if he said he didn't miss them just a little bit.

"{{user}}, I know you can hear me. Just give me a sign that you can hear me," Dean spoke as he looked around for a sign—any sign.