Castiel orders a new phone the next day, but until it comes, he's stuck checking social media on the computer. He checks Twitter, ignoring the search bar entirely in favor of just looking at his feed. The first tweet to show up is from Lucifer with the link to one of his videos. "PSA on the #CastielIsOverParty."

Curious, he opens the video and turns the volume on his computer up so he can hear. It's not high quality, just Lucifer sitting in his bedroom, talking to the camera.

"Hey, guys, it's me, Satan. I don't know if you're aware, but last night, a lot of people were saying that my brother Castiel is 'over,' and that I started it. In the words of Luke Skywalker..."

The video cuts out to show Luke Skywalker on the planet Crait in The Last Jedi saying, "Amazing. Every word you just said was wrong."

It switches back to Lucifer, who says, "First of all, a legend like Castiel doesn't just end overnight. He's not over until he decides he's over. If you don't like him, fine, but if you find joy in telling people how much you hate them online, something tells me Castiel isn't going to care that you don't like him. In fact, he's probably pretty happy about that.

"I didn't start the hashtag. I deleted the video, but all I said was that you need to stop complaining that Castiel isn't in any of my videos. He lives halfway across the country. He's busy getting ready for tour and keeping you guys entertained on social media while you wait. And stop whining about ticket prices, because I talked to him about it when he started selling them, and he's not making any more money from his shows than he did last year, which just means that it's going to be a very high-tech show and you're gonna love it.

"I think I had other stuff to talk about, too..." Lucifer pauses, thinking. "Oh! So I know there are pictures floating around the interwebs, and I know people are worried about him and all that, but please, for the love of rainbows, stop posting them everywhere! I'm getting really sick of people invading his privacy like that. Castiel is fine. Someone went by his house and saw that he shoveled the snow out from around the fire hydrant because he's a responsible citizen who puts safety first, and you should all be like him. So, if it just snowed and you live near a fire hydrant, go clear it out and help people out. Lucifer, out." He gives a mock salute, and the video ends.

What pictures?

Castiel returns to Twitter, and, after a moment of hesitation, searches for tweets with his name. Sure enough, the first one that comes up has two pictures attached, as well as the words, "@ everyone involved with the #CastielIsOverParty, fuck you. If Castiel killed himself over it, you all have blood on your hands."

He can already tell that this isn't good. He reluctantly looks at the pictures. The first one is him sitting on the floor, his guitar in his lap and a pencil between his teeth. His eyes are red from crying, though he isn't crying anymore. In front of him is his song notebook, which he's been writing in. He knows it's from last night, which begs the question of how did someone get a picture of him in his own house?

Through the window. Dammit!

His eyes scan the rest of the picture for minor details. He knows his fans will pick up on anything there, and he wants to at least know what he got himself into with this.

His smashed phone is still lying on the floor, and he knows people will be able to figure out that it was because he was upset at the trending hashtag, but he'll never tell them that. Maybe he'll think of some different reason for it.

The only nice thing is that the picture beautifully highlights how many awards he has. It only shows a fraction of them, but it's still quite a lot, so at least the people who hate him can't see this picture without seeing how successful he is in the music industry, if not in life in general.

The second picture is worse. Somehow, it captures exactly what his song notebook says, even rotated so it's facing the right way. How did the paparazzi even get a camera that works so well?

Castiel sighs and exits Twitter, closing his laptop. So not only is his career dead, but now the general public has a copy of some of his very personal lyrics. Well, isn't that peachy? He just wants to lie in bed with his dog until they fall asleep. Is that too much to ask?

~~

It's a couple days later when Castiel's phone finally comes in, and that's when he decides to get back to posting on social media. All he says on Twitter is, "Accidentally broke my phone a few days ago but I am back and ready to Twitter!"

He switches to his less popular Instagram account, which is mostly just his real fans, and posts a couple pictures of Misha being adorable. He doesn't care if his missing eye or ears bothers anyone. Misha deserves his moment in the spotlight.

"Misha was the goodest of the good boys. Forgive me for getting sentimental, but he literally saved my life. I wish I could have returned the favor, but unfortunately, he passed away on Thursday. Rest in peace, Misha."

He knows better than to check the comments. He doesn't want to see anyone disrespecting such an amazing dog just because he doesn't fit their standards of cute. In fact, he doesn't want people to disrespect Misha, period, whether he sees it or not, and the easiest way to fix that would be to turn the comments off on his post, so that's what he does.

Castiel starts putting his contacts in his phone, copying them from his old iPod that he rarely uses, until eventually, he gets a text.

Unknown: I'm sorry about Misha.

Castiel: New phone who dis?

He's trying not to think about Misha right now. He doesn't want to start crying again. He doesn't even know if he has anymore years to lose. The best way to get off that topic is humor, and the fact that the situation fits perfectly with this outdated meme makes it too easy to pass up.

Unknown: This is Roy Moore's horse. How am I texting you with hooves? That's irrelevant.

Castiel is about to ask who Roy Moore is, until he remembers the political world of a few years ago, around when he stopped talking about politics, and soon lost interest in them. Roy Moore was a pedophile or a rapist or something of that nature, and ran for some political position in some state and lost. Why is the guy's horse texting him?

Castiel: That's a very Michael/Samandriel person to know and a very Lucifer thing to say and I am confused.

Unknown: Samandriel showed me this Twitter account for some guy's horse and it's hilarious and makes politics fun

Unknown: But yeah, this is Lucifer.

Castiel quickly enters his contact before continuing the conversation.

Castiel: K. What's up?

Lucifer: Just checking in.

Lucifer: Are you alive?

Lucifer: I mean

Lucifer: You're using a phone

Lucifer: So probably

Lucifer: Unless you got kidnapped or became a zombie or something

Lucifer: But I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you didn't and that you're alive.

Castiel: That would be true.

Lucifer: How are you holding up all the way in the forgotten corner of the country?

How is he supposed to respond to that? He feels like his life is just completely falling apart, but he doesn't want to say that.

Castiel: I've been worse. How are you?

Lucifer: Concerned because that was not a very good answer

Lucifer: It would take a lot for that not to be true

Lucifer: So unless you're being eaten by a zombie

Lucifer: I would kinda expect that from you

Lucifer: So

Lucifer: Tell me

Lucifer: Honestly

Lucifer: How are you?

Castiel sighs. Why does Lucifer have to be so persistent?

Castiel: I just miss my dog.

Lucifer: I know.

Lucifer: I do, too.

Lucifer: You could always get another dog.

Lucifer: It won't be the same, obviously

Lucifer: But it's something.

Castiel: No.

He could never get another dog without thinking of Misha every time he looked at it. He's not going to do that to himself. Besides, he'd probably have to have that dog killed, too, knowing him.

Lucifer: But you can't be all alone all the time.

Lucifer: I mean

Lucifer: What happens if you go into another really depressed phase

Lucifer: And you don't have anyone around to save you?

Castiel: I won't.

Lucifer: Okay

Lucifer: Compromise

Lucifer: How about

Lucifer: You come back to Sioux Falls

Lucifer: And you can meet my guinea pig

Lucifer: And we can chill

Lucifer: And you can go home in a week or two when you're happier?

Castiel sighs. He would really rather stay here, but he knows Lucifer won't give up until he agrees, so, begrudgingly, he agrees.