All characters belong to Kripke and CW.

He woke up with a fright to the sound of his alarm. He groaned. He reached for his phone,fumbling as he searched with his eyes closed. He patted around desperately, trying to turn off "Tick Tock" by Ke$ha. He had liked that song and so decided to set it as his alarm tone so that he would be in a better mood when he woke up. However, his plan didn't go well because instead of waking up in a good mood to his favourite song, he had grown to hate the song because it ripped his from his slumbers.

After what seemed like an eternity, he found his phone on the floor beside his bed. He turned Ke$ha off, sighing with relief. The fact that his alarm went off, meant that it was 6:30. He rolled over, wanting to get five more minutes sleep before he had to get up.

"CASTIEL! CASTIEL NOVAK! GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED! YOU'RE GONNA BE LATE FOR WORK!" Meg shouted, thumping the door with his fist.

Castiel groaned. He had had a pleasant dream, none of the nightmares that he had grown accustomed to. He reached for his watch, checking the time.

He jumped out of his bed. It was 7:00.

"Meg! Why did you not wake me up earlier?! You know I must be at the coffee shop at 7:30 to open for 8:00!" Castiel shouted back at her.

He quickly threw on his clothes which were perfectly folded on the chair. Today he wore navy suit pants, a crisp white shirt that fit him like as if it was tailor made (but it wasn't), outlining the shape of his shoulders perfectly, and a pair of brown shoes.

Once he was dressed, he grabbed his tan trench coat and ran into the kitchen. He desperately tried to flatten his wild, bed hair, but it wouldn't sit still. Castiel made a mental note to get another bottle of Aussie hair shampoo and conditioner to try to control the natural mess of his hair. He grabbed his keys and a hat.

"Goodbye!" he yelled over his shoulder as he was walking out the door.

"You won't be able to drive, Clarence. The roads are blocked with the snow." Meg said, running to catch up with him. "Maybe you should stay closed today"

"Meg, you know I can't. I need the money and the humans need their coffee. I'll just walk."

"Well, if you die on the way its on you. I tried to stop you." Meg said smiling, but there was worry in her eyes. She may still be a demon but she had grown attached to the ex-angel. He was like the brother she never wanted.

"Until this evening, Meg."

"Oh, and Cas! You can't keep referring to them as humans. You're one too. Remember? You fell, hard. You're Castiel Novak, human. Amazing but human. And don't you forget it." Meg shouted after him, as he walked down the road, head bent down against the wind

When Castiel reached the end of the street, he realised that he wasn't going to make it on time. He lived on the opposite side of town to his coffee shop. Usually that wasn't a problem, but usually he could just drive. Today was one of those exceptions. It was 7:20. it took a five/ten minute drive, depending on traffic but it would take at least thirty minutes walk because of the snow. Cas realised if he wanted to see his regulars and get the pre-work business, he would have to run to get there before 7:30. The machines needed around thirty minutes to start up and he needed to start getting sme pre-ordered lunched ready. He was so not wearing the correct shoes for this.

"This had better be worth those small but painful bubbles humans sometimes get on their feet. What are they called?" Castiel thought to himself, cocking his head slightly. "Ah, yes. Blubbers."

Castiel set off running, stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep them warm. He hadn't run since... Well, since he was on the road with... "No, Castiel," he scolded himself. "You must not think like that." When he was an angel, he never needed to run and it was moments like this when he wished he had his "angel mojo" back. Castiel smiled. A good friend of his had called his powers that. Castiel's mind wandered to the one who had called it that.

Castiel was ripped from these thoughts when he tripped and fell flat on his face. He sprawled out on the ground. He must have slipped on some ice because he landed face-first in a massive pile of snow. His hands didn't break his fall. They couldn't. They were in his pockets. He groaned and rolled over. If anyone had filmed that, it would have been straight up on one of those funny accident videos on the tube of you.

He lay still for a few seconds, catching his breathe. He slowly stood up, taking his hands out of his pockets to help him. He sucked in a sharp breathe when he put his hands in the snow. He was soaked. His trench coat was was only shower resistant, so today it wasnt very helpful. He was close enough to coffee shop now. He checked his watch. It was 7:27. He needed to run again. He was a few blocks away. He could do this. He just needed to forget the fact that he was cold.

He set off again, rubbing his hands together, trying to create some friction. He could barely see though the blizzard that has started. He had to squint to try and see. The air was so cold that it felt like getting slapped across the face over and over again. The freezing air was attacking his neck, causing him to shiver. He tried to wrap his coat around him more tightly, without taking his hands out of his pockets. But if anything it mde his coat fall more loose. He gave up trying to get warmer and just focused on keeping his legs moving at a fast enough pace.

He sighed with relief. He could see the shop now. A small smile spread across his face. Finally. He ran up to the door, shaking violently. He reached into his pocket and grabbed his keys. His hands were shaking so much that he dropped his keys. He bent down to pick them up. He couldn't feel his hands. They were completely numb. He couldn't get his fingers to work. He fumbled with his keys. He could plainly see which one he needed but he couldn't seem to get at it. He needed to get inside and heat up. It was definitely days like today that made him wish he hadn't fallen, but alas he had and here he was, a normal human being who was going to die of hypothermia because he couldn't get his fingers to work. He dropped his keys again, sighing with defeat. He hung his head, shivering and trying to stop his teeth from chattering.

He bent down to pick up his keys one last time. But before he reached them a hand reached out and grabbed them. His shaky breathe caught in his throat. Was he being robbed? If he was, there was no way he was going to be able to stop them in his state.

He looked at the person who was robbing him, thinking that maybe he would be able to give a description to the police on his death bed. When he looked up, blue eyes met green ones. His breathe caught in his throat. His eyes grew wide in shock and horror. He stumbled backwards. This was impossible.

"Hey, Buddy? You okay?" the green eyed man said.

Castiel started hyperventilating. This wasn't supposed to happen! He had moved away. Left everything he loved.

"Hey, hey. Breathe. Come on. Deep breathes." the man said putting his hands on Cas' shoulders. "oh my god! You're soaked! Come on. Lets get you inside."

Cas was still wide eyed. The man opened the door, wrapped his hand around Castiel's shoulders and half-carried him inside. Castiel winced when he caught the familiar scent of the man beside him. He brought him into the back.

"We need to get you out of those clothes. Do you have any spares here?"

Castiel nodded his head. He looked over to where he kept spare clothes in case of a spillage. The man followed his gaze to the corner. He grabbed the rucksack and walked back over to Castiel.

"Will you be okay on your own, man?"

Castiel nodded again. All he could do was nod. He was so shocked. He still couldn't breathe properly.

"Okay. I gotta go. I'm running late. Just get warmed up, alright?" More nodding. "Okay. Well, bye." the man said, flashing Cas a smile that almost knocked him over. He waved and walked out the door.

Castiel managed a little smile, even though his heart felt like it had been ripped from his chest, used as a punch bag, then gone for a little holiday into Lucifer's cage, gotten torn to shreds, then been clumsily sewn back together and shoved back into his chest, but not before putting it through a meat mincer.

Tears slowly started to form in his eyes as he stood up shakily and he whispered. "Thank you. Farewell again, my old friend." Tears were spilling down his face as he changed. He was glad for the pain. It was worth seeing him again. Seeing his hunter. Well, now ex-hunter. He checked his watch. It was 7:45. He still had plenty of time, thanks to the green-eyed man. The man who thought Castiel was a stranger, but who Castiel knew better than anyone. The man who went by the name Dean

He went to turn around the sign on the door, signalling that the coffee shop was open. He put on his fa├žade, and went to start his working day.