Note: This is mostly just me complaining about issues with clothing stores. I like to think of it as fanfictional satire. You'll probably think of it as me being whiney about stuff.
Castiel followed Dean into the department store. Sam's refusal to enter the building had made him apprehensive.
"Dean, why do I need new clothing? I am dressed in perfectly functional garments already."
"Because, Cas, people will notice if you're wearing the exact same thing every time they see you."
A set of mannequins was lined up in the entryway. They appeared to be female, but Castiel was concerned by their headlessness. He squinted at them quizzically.
Dean was slowly shuffling off towards an attractive female store clerk.
"Right, Cas, listen, I'm just going to be over here. Go find something you can wear and then we'll go."
Castiel was uncertain whether he was looking in the correct area. None of the clothing seemed functional. He looked at a skirt. He was uncertain about human dressing customs, but supposed since Sam and Dean stuck to pants he should do the same.
He approached the shelf and examined an item. It was labeled "jeggings." It looked uncomfortably tight, and while he wasn't sure, he did not think pants were meant to stretch that way. He picked up a different pair of jeans. Although they appeared more normal and functional than the previous pants, he noticed that they were full of holes and violent tears, the way Dean's became after werewolf fights. Castiel wondered if perhaps these were used clothes, belonging to deceased hunters.
After examining more pants, he realized that they were manufactured by different companies. He soon realized something else.
He pulled out his cell phone and called Dean.
"What, Cas?"
"Dean, I am confused by these pants."
A pair of elderly women nearby gave him an odd look before walking off.
"How?" Dean asked.
"This one says that the size is five, and this one says that the size is nine, but having examined them I have found that they are in fact nearly identical in size. I do not understand why this discrepancy exists. And there are pants that restrict movement, and pants where the ankles are not proportional to the waist, and pants that appear to be damaged beyond functional value."
"Cas, I think you're in the women's pants section."
"How can you tell?"
"Because you're not making any sense. Find the men's section. I'm kind of occupied."
"Occupied with what?"
"Just find the men's section!"
"Are you with that girl we saw?"
Dean hung up.
Castiel wandered a bit, but couldn't find another pants section. Soon he found some coats. Judging by the shape of the nearest mannequin, these were intended for women as well, but he saw a trenchcoat resembling his own. Relieved by the familiarity, he approached it. However, as he looked at it more closely, he realized that all the pockets were fake. This confused him. "Why," he mumbled, "would someone falsify the presence of a pocket?" Disappointed, he walked off.
He next arrived at a section of long colorful garments. He was unsure what their function was; he could not remember having seen anyone wearing such things. He examined one. It consisted of a complexly structured bodice with a padded chest, and a looser skirt attached to the bottom. The tag said "Dress- Prom/Formal." He did not understand what this meant.
Then he saw something else that confused him.
It was white, short, and stretchy with many layers, folds, straps, and random openings. He was uncertain where one's head, arms, and legs went in, but it made him feel concerned.
He called Dean again.
"Dean, what type of shop is this?"
"…It's a department store. It… sells clothes."
"I have found a straitjacket."
"Where?"
"In the section of things called 'dresses.'"
"Cas, I don't think that's a straitjacket."
"Are you sure?"
Castiel heard Dean slightly from a distance trying to convince the girl to stay and keep talking to him. Apparently he failed.
"Just stay where you are, Cas, I'll come find you."
Castiel felt relieved. Soon Dean arrived and led him to a far corner of the store.
"This is the men's section, Cas."
"Why is it so small?"
Dean stopped and thought for a while, but couldn't think of an answer. They found some acceptable clothing, paid with a fake credit card, and left.
Sam grinned at them when they got back to the hotel, as if he already knew exactly how confusing and frustrating this experience had been.
"Sam," Castiel said, "next time we have need of a department store, I would like to wait at the hotel. You may accompany Dean."
"Actually I'll wait at the hotel too. Sam can go on his own."
"Do I get a say in this?" Sam asked.
"No," insisted Castiel.
"You're the youngest," Dean added. His phone rang. It was Bobby.
"Come on, pack your stuff," Dean said after hanging up. "Bobby has a job for us."
THE END