Peter was happy for the chance to spend some time with Castiel. He hadn’t seen much of his friend for some weeks now - first due to being stranded in an alternate dimension, and then, since they had both returned to Lawrence, they had both been caught up in their own worries and seemed to have simply missed each other. Peter generally found the ex-angel’s presence soothing, though, and he hoped that Cas found his company a comfort as well. Peter didn’t know how to help him any other way, really, except to listen when Cas wished to speak about his troubles, and try and offer encouragement. And having been on the opposite end of such a situation, Peter was well-aware that sometimes, that was all anyone could do. Sometimes, things simply could not be fixed through action.
At first, when he reached the roof, he couldn’t see Castiel anywhere. The short walls around the edge of the roof were bare of people leaning against them to look out at the city. And there was no one standing amongst the plants growing in the large planter box spread across most of the roof. It took Peter a moment to spot Cas laying on his back, unmoving on the pavement.
His breath caught for a moment - was something wrong? Had Cas fallen and hurt himself? Or was he ill? - and Peter started to dart forwards. He slowed again when he realized he could see Cas’s chest rising and falling with even breaths. Peter shook his head, scolding himself a little for being so paranoid, then moved to stand over his friend. He tilted his head, looking down at him. “Cas?” The corner of Peter’s mouth tugged up into a little half-grin. “What are you doing?”