[ Castiel’s grip on the salt pouch loosens further, threatening to slip from his fingers. He still feels the echo of the vision - warm light, Dean’s voice, the scent of scorched crust - but it’s duller now, like something fading in the rearview. He looks at his new companion, voice quiet. ]
You're right. They know exactly where to strike.
[ A breath. Not quite steady, but close enough. ]
Thanks. [ He's a little awkward, after being caught like that. He's only grateful it hadn't seemed like the other person saw any of it. ] That wasn't something I expected.
no subject
You're right. They know exactly where to strike.
[ A breath. Not quite steady, but close enough. ]
Thanks. [ He's a little awkward, after being caught like that. He's only grateful it hadn't seemed like the other person saw any of it. ] That wasn't something I expected.