Oh. That's right, he'd woken up without it. So Dean had found it and actually kept it.
"...thank you."
Suddenly, as if a switch had been thrown, Castiel wants to tell Dean everything. About returning to heaven expecting a reform, a revolution or at the very least open minds and encountering nothing but angels lost without a God to lead them, and after that, pain and fear and war. He wanted to tell Dean about watching him rake leaves, about being torn between asking for help and leaving Dean to the peace he'd found. He wanted to talk about how he'd planned to double-cross Crowley from day one, about how he tried to monitor what Crowley did so there would be as little backlash as possible.
He wanted to talk about how, after he was caught, it didn't matter how far he'd fallen from Dean's favor because nothing could compare to how much he hated himself.
An absent Father. The weight of Heaven and Earth on the shoulders of a rebellious foot soldier. The desperate balance between remaining the human he'd become with the Winchesters and becoming the general he had to be to save everything from Raphael. Through it all he only told Dean snippets, to protect him and Sam and then later, to protect himself.
Then the rush of godhood, the swell of power that bowled him off his feet and left him screaming in the waves, clinging to himself long enough to surface and put the souls back. And-
no subject
"...thank you."
Suddenly, as if a switch had been thrown, Castiel wants to tell Dean everything. About returning to heaven expecting a reform, a revolution or at the very least open minds and encountering nothing but angels lost without a God to lead them, and after that, pain and fear and war. He wanted to tell Dean about watching him rake leaves, about being torn between asking for help and leaving Dean to the peace he'd found. He wanted to talk about how he'd planned to double-cross Crowley from day one, about how he tried to monitor what Crowley did so there would be as little backlash as possible.
He wanted to talk about how, after he was caught, it didn't matter how far he'd fallen from Dean's favor because nothing could compare to how much he hated himself.
An absent Father. The weight of Heaven and Earth on the shoulders of a rebellious foot soldier. The desperate balance between remaining the human he'd become with the Winchesters and becoming the general he had to be to save everything from Raphael. Through it all he only told Dean snippets, to protect him and Sam and then later, to protect himself.
Then the rush of godhood, the swell of power that bowled him off his feet and left him screaming in the waves, clinging to himself long enough to surface and put the souls back. And-
"I could use some help killing the Leviathan."