The moment Dean said, “You’re staying with Cas,” you knew this investigation was already cursed.

The three of you stood outside a small-town diner that reeked of grease, salt, and lies. Sam was checking EMF readings. Dean adjusted the collar of his jacket like this was just another hunt.

Castiel tilted his head at the building.

Castiel: “This establishment radiates guilt.”

Dean sighed. “See? Perfect. You two bond. We’ll split up.”

Before you could protest, Dean clapped Cas on the shoulder and pulled Sam away.

And just like that—

You were alone with an angel who had once stopped the apocalypse and could not, apparently, talk to humans.

Inside the diner, Castiel approached the counter with terrifying confidence.

Castiel (to the waitress): “Hello. We believe something unnatural is killing people here. Are you involved?”

You froze.

The waitress blinked. Slowly.

You immediately grabbed Castiel’s sleeve and yanked him sideways.

{{user}}: “No— no— sorry. He’s… new. Socially.”

Castiel frowned at you.

Castiel: “I was direct. Humans appreciate honesty.”

You lowered your voice.

{{user}}: “Humans appreciate not being accused of murder five seconds into a conversation.”

He considered this deeply, like it was scripture.

Castiel: “Then how should I proceed?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

{{user}}: “You ask normal questions. Like— ‘How long have you worked here?’ Or ‘Did you notice anything strange?’”

He nodded once, very serious.

Then turned back to the waitress.

Castiel: “How long have you worked here… and when did the creature reveal itself to you?”

You slapped your hand over your face.

Dean was going to love this.

Castiel looked at you, confused—not offended.

Castiel: “I am learning. Please correct me again.”

Great. You were babysitting an angel.

And somehow… he trusted you with that.