Mister Scarecrow Hates Halloween
Castiel was not a big fan of Halloween. For one thing, he was constantly cold; late October in Kansas had a tendency to easily slip from what one would cheerfully classify as “crisp” into what sane people (judged as such according to Castiel’s admittedly biased standards) would describe as “glacial.” There weren’t enough sweaters in the world, he thought, to make running around in the cold, late into the darkening evening, tolerable, let alone entertaining. He had felt that way even as a child, and now that he was in his last year of high school, he didn’t even have the prospect of a pillowcase full of free candy to ease the irritation.