Dean tapped his fingers on the impala's steering wheel to the beat of the radio. It'd been a long night, too long. He'd woken up ages ago in the mere hours of the morning as a consequence to his hell filled nightmares. They'd caused him to wake up, sweating and slightly panting, scared of falling asleep again and...Hungry. He'd snuck out after checking up on Sammy. He had been sleeping, snoring lightly as Dean'd left, enough evidence to show that his younger brother was fast asleep.
It was 5 am now. Still dark, yet soft light was increasing on the horizon. It was summer, and the pair had traveled to the little village to check on a case where a man had been killed, his eyes had been melted. Dean'd had a strong impression to what it could've been.
Turning the radio off, Dean yawned. He was approaching the small 24 hour diner he'd spotted the day before, and thank god he had, he was dying for a slice of pie and a hot mug of coffee. Gravel crunched beneath the impalas wheels as Dean steered it into the small parking lot. He parked it close to the diner entrance and turned off the ignition, hearing the impala go still apart from a few clicks every now and again as the metal cooled down. He climbed out, locking the door, and pocketed his keys in his worn, leather jacket. Looking towards the horizon he wondered for a moment if God was truly out there, thinking of Castiels blind faith towards a father who he hadn't even seen before. Castiel. An angel who Dean thought a lot of, and who thought a lot of Dean. It was...complicated. Many times Dean's wanted to talk to Castiel as a normal person, but that was impossible, beyond impossible. He wanted to know what Cas felt, how the thought, why he had such faith in his barely existent father and mankind, basically Dean wanted to know him. He sighed and cleared his head from Castiel. Pie. Pie was what he wanted. He walked towards the entrance of the diner, reaching it in a few strides, pushing the door open and stepping onto the classic linoleum. It was empty apart from the obvious waitress at the cash register and a homeless man that was sitting at the bar.
He sat down in an empty both and picked up the menu, scanning it quickly.
"Dean." A familiar voice came from the seat opposite. Dean looked up at the Angel.
"Jesus Christ, Cas." He'd gotten used to Castiel just showing up, although sometimes it was still annoying. He put the menu back on the table and sat back in his seat. "So, how many seals? Or do I have to gank some demons?" Dean asked, scanning Cas' face in search for emotion of a sort. Castiel shook his head slightly, straight-faced. "There have been no seals broken, of late. No serious demons either."
Dean frowned. "So, what ya doin' here?" It didn't make sense, usually Cas came when a serious matter was at hand; seals being broken; demons killing people; death or important events that could result in Lucifer being risen or being on the verge of apocalypse.
Castiel blinked once. 'I came to see you.'