Castiel stood statue-still beneath a streetlight as he watched the lights of Lucy's Liquors wink out. A large bald man with a goatee and sock monkey hat walked out, locked the front door, and drove off in a faded black pick-up truck. With empty eyes, Cas stared at the darkened store. Fear, hopelessness, disappointment and so much more winged around in his mind. He could feel a fluttering in his stomach and he became lightheaded as he realized that this was what anxiety and stress felt like to a semi-mortal body. Cas just wanted deliverance; anything to take away the feeling of despair, even if for only a short time.

Cas materialized just inside the front door of the liquor store. There was just enough light filtering in from outside to illuminate the signs above the aisles. Cas' brows knit together and he tilted his head as he tried to decide where to start. He was unfamiliar with almost all the words on the signs.

"Gin, Vodka, Scotch, Rum…" He murmured, testing the words as he walked past each aisle. As he neared the back of the store his eyes lit up as they landed on a word he was familiar with. "Wine!" he said triumphantly.

He began with the reds. He drank all of the cabernets, pinots and merlots immediately. As he finished the last bottle he smacked his lips together and sighed in delight. The whites fell next. The chardonnays were heavenly, so oaky with just a hint of sunshine. The light fruity sauvignon blancs disappeared accompanied by tiny moans of bliss. The Rieslings were like liquid candy and Castiel mourned his inability to lick the insides of the bottles.

After the wines, he moved on to the gin section. He opened the first bottle and took a healthy swig. Immediately, gin geysered out across the aisle. "Vile, vile, vile!" Cas ranted. "God knows why anyone would want to put that in their mouth!" Cas' eyes grew wide and shot towards the ceiling and he ducked slightly. When the expected bolt of lightning didn't occur, he snickered, "Oops, maybe not! Oh, crap!" He slapped his hand over his mouth and hiccupped, "Did I say that out loud?"

"If only the other angels in the garrison could see me." He said as his knees gave out and he slumped to the floor. He shakily crawled out of the gin section.

The vodka didn't last long at all. Castiel thought it tasted like cool fresh water and drank it like a refugee from the desert. The rums were wonderful, especially the spiced rums. They tasted like moonlit nights on a beach in paradise. He made a mental note to go to a beach... in paradise…at night…in the moonlight…soon.

Before moving on to the next aisle, Cas decided he wanted a snack, so he ate the chips and the pretzels - all of them. As he wadded up the last empty bag, he realized that his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. He glanced up and saw the beer. Hallelujah! This was something else he was familiar with as Sam and Dean consumed this substance in large quantities as a daily ritual. Castiel was not disappointed. "So this is what all the fuss is about." He emptied the last can and crushed it against his forehead. "Quite satisfying! Beer is definitely my favorite so far." No sooner were those words out of his mouth than he was flung backwards across the store by one of the largest belches to ever occur on the planet.

As he picked himself up off of the floor and rearranged his trench coat, he glanced up and saw the whiskey. Had Cas not currently been on Heaven's Shit List, he would have heard an angelic choir. Whiskey! This was Dean's drink! Cas couldn't count the number of times, well actually he could, that he had seen Dean pull the silver flask from one pocket or another and take a sip. He wondered what could be so heavenly to cause such an expression of utter joy to appear on Dean's face.

He reached over and picked up each bottle, replacing it with another until he found the one that resembled the bottle that was usually in Dean's bag. He opened it and brought it to his nose. As he gently inhaled, his body broke out in goose bumps, which was quite disconcerting as Castiel couldn't remember ever feeling that before. He waited for the goose bumps to fade and then took a small sip. The warm brown liquid slid through his lips and tumbled across his tongue. He swallowed and felt the liquor leave a warm and tingly trail down his throat and splash into his stomach. A small frisson of pleasure flowed outwards and down his limbs. The rapturous feeling was too much and, once again, Cas sank to the floor cradling the manna in his trembling hands.

Castiel passed the rest of the night in the whiskey section worshipping each and every bottle of the divine substance. As the sun rose, bringing new light into the store, he stood up and straightened out his clothing as best he could. His cell phone beeped and he pulled it from his coat pocket. He saw the message was from Sam. As he dialed and listened, he casually looked around the liquor store at the utter devastation he had caused. Then Castiel snapped his phone closed, hiccupped and disappeared.