Castiel's time at work the next week had been painfully slow. If he'd counted correctly, a total of 10 people had visited the store in all of three days and only 8 of those actually bought anything. It was physically frustrating watching customers roam around criticising each product before finally leaving the store again. The third day he'd wanted to stab his eyes out he was that bored.

When it was finally time to pack up, the manager nodded Cas over to speak.

"Castiel?" The tall man coughed, beckoning him over and snapping him out of his almost unconscious state. Castiel broke out of his daze, blinking a few times and rubbing his eyes before following the pointed hand of his manager.

"Yes sir?" He asked, trying to sound like he wasn't just falling asleep. His manager folded his arms across his chest tightly, his name tag reflected the streetlights of outside, reading Raphael.

Raphael sighed deeply, moving one hand to stroke his chin, contemplating his next words.

"I've already told the other employers, -when they clocked off." He stated, glancing down at Castiel's weary face. "This place isn't working, it's going to be made into a... a real estate office or something... I don't know I wasn't really listening when they told me." He placed his head in his hands and took a deep breath, letting his hands fall. His deep eyes pierced through Castiel's, sending a shiver crawling down his spine.

"Oh." Was all he could manage, 'cause what else was there to say?

"We're gonna have to let you go. I'm sorry Castiel." He sounded sincere and that was enough for it to be real.

He was unemployed once again. It was hard enough to get this simple grocery store job on its own; stupid homophobic dicks and their self beliefs that gay people can't work properly or whatever else they think would happen if they ever bloody employed one.

"Well," Castiel said taking a deep breath. "Thank you, Raphael. I'm sure I'll see you again another time." He forced a smile and Raphael clapped him on the shoulder.

Castiel hung up his work vest for the last time and unpinned his name badge, tossing it in the bin. He drove his way home in silence, forcing back the tears threatening to spill down his face.

When he got home he skipped dinner and went straight to his bedroom. At first he lay there, letting the trail flow down his face. Then he wiped them angrily with his shirt sleeve before throwing it off completely and crawling under the covers. He lay there a while, staring into space (well, the white linen) and reflecting over what just happened. There was nothing he could do. He wasn't fired; made redundant more so. He'd go job searching tomorrow, right now the only thing he wanted to do was binge watch more shows, Sherlock preferably.

He'd only just started the series so there were plenty of hours to waste away his life upon. It was around 1am and Castiel was still sitting shirtless in his bed, more tears streaming down his face, this time induced by John's last wish for a miracle. He took a few deep breaths before he pushed the laptop away from him, stretching out his legs in awkward positions. Shuffling over to the edge, he rose to his feet, walking into the living room to find some tissues (what? He didn't cry during tv shows, shh, nothing ever happened). He didn't bother turning on the light and when he finally found the box a sudden noise stopped him in his tracks, one hand holding out a tissue in mid-air.

The noise repeated, louder this time, more cluttered and rattled. Castiel tiptoed in his socks across the wooden floor towards the source of the sound. His heart started hammering in his chest, but he knew it was probably nothing. He heard the noise again and made his way towards the front door where the rattling was coming from. The light outside in the hall was dimly lighting up a silhouette of a man, and the doorknob was shaking as if he was trying to get inside.

Castiel's pulse quickened and he grabbed the umbrella leaning in the corner by the door as a defence weapon. He lifted it like a bat ready to swing when suddenly he heard a loud crash. The man was kicking the door. Castiel's scared face turned into one of confusion. If someone was trying to break in why would they go about it loudly? Another bang echoed throughout the apartment and Castiel tightened his grip on his makeshift weapon. What the f-

"Fucking door won't open." A muffled voice shouted followed by another loud bang.

"What the fuCK man."

Bang, bang.

"God damn KEY won't fucking TURN."

BANG.

Wait a second... Castiel slid silently against the wall next to the front door, dabbing at his eyes before leaning over and looking through the peep hole.

Holy crap, Dean?