[ he breathes hard out his nose in a sound that's almost a laugh, mouth twisting into a brief, wry smile. it's probably not a gift. he doesn't know why god brought him back or why he put sam and dean on that plane. if it was meant to be a mercy or if it was merely curiosity. he knows all this was set into motion long ago.

perhaps he was only shuffling the pieces into place for the grand finale. ]

I've never tried before. But there are books with instructions...

[ castiel gives a nod, a simple incline of his head, after hearing vincent's full answer. he considers his own words while lifting his cup to his mouth. he speaks again once he's set it down. ]

Maybe I'm not capable of changing, either. I'm not... aware of my faults. I used to be a good soldier. One who always followed orders. I was firm in my faith and prided myself in it. And now I have nothing. I don't know who I am.

[ his fingers tighten around his teacup. too tight, and naturally the delicate porcelain breaks, spilling tea between his fingers to puddle on the table. ]