[ There's no reason behind most things here, he's learned to live with it. Besides, it's not like he has need of one. He doesn't need things - normally - and he's an angel. Helping humanity is his job. To be paid for something he was created to do is an insult.

When Sam starts talking about Jack - who still remains a mystery to him, despite having him here once - Castiel starts steps a little closer. Listening to him intently, he's thrown off when Sam's starts talking about something he can't quite place. ]

Bedroom? [ Second? Third? ] What bedrooms are you talking about?

[ In the time that he's known the brothers, they've lived on the road, Dean's car bearing the weight of home more than the places they slept in sometimes. It's the odd phrasing that throws him off. ]

I don't hate him.

[ A declaration, one he struggled with at first when he first met Jack. He didn't hate him, but all angels knew that Nephilims were abominations. After meeting Jack, getting to know him, and knowing all that he knew of Heaven's corruption. He discarded that notion as another false narrative. Like Sam, Jack wasn't an abomination. He was good. They were good. ]

Even if he's a Nephilim.

[ He may not view him in the same light as he one day would, but even this far back, he feels the pull of something tugging at him every time they met. It felt like having a new angel assigned to their garrison, someone who needed guidance. This feeling didn't stem from the same well that would one day drive him, but it was real nonetheless. Just as real as what he felt for Sam and Dean. Speaking of, hearing that Dean is okay settles him back down, and he nods at Sam accepting his words as truth. Sam wouldn't lie to him. Taking the plate from him, Castiel follows his lead, asking questions as he does so. ]

It'll take a few weeks to get back to full power. The end of the month most likely, but I should be able to perform minor miracles before then.

What did you find?