Despite the fact that the two brothers had made it their purpose in life to search out supernatural creatures and bring an end to them, they seemed to have a difficult time accepting certain things. Castiel remembered when he had first come to see Dean, when he had tried to explain who he was and where he came from. He had gotten little more than an attitude, but this time he didn't have the wrath of Heaven to hold over the man's head. His fists did not have the same strength, and his wings could no longer take them even as far as the other side of the room. He had no proof, and they had no reason to believe him.
All he had was more information, but that might just make them further inclined to label him as insane and leave it at that. He knew more about them than anyone should have, but once again, that could easily lead to more suspicions. He could already see it in their faces, the way they were looking him up and down as if he was their enemy rather than their ally. He would have deemed it disrespectful, but in this case he could not fault them too much.
The entirety of what Sam said was a mystery to him, and again Castiel found his shoulders tensing up at the mention of his brother's name. The wound in his shoulder was aggravated once more, and it took an admirable amount of willpower to not grab for it in response. Instead, he smoothed out his expression and shook his head.
"That's not my name," he said, wanting to get that cleared up before anything else. He could have mentioned Michael, but that would come later. The significance of the mislabeling had yet to become clear to him. "Nor am I a... detective." Not in the sense that Sam was thinking of, at least. He certainly knew how to investigate things, though his methods were usually different from what humans would first imagine when hearing that word. He had learned some from Dean, but that hardly seemed to matter at this point. Neither of them knew of it.
"Whoever you saw must have been some sort of doppelganger." Shapeshifting was not impossible, especially for those creatures who were known for it. But angels could manage it as well; Gabriel was a more recent example. He wanted to believe that his brother had learned his lesson after they'd almost left him to rot in that ring of fire, but maybe not.
As for Dean's question, Castiel once again leveled a stare on the man before he replied. "I can sense it," he said, and he was at least grateful that he still had the ability to do something that basic. "I've been severely weakened, but normally my capabilities would span much further than that." Much, much further. It had been taken away from him bit by bit. First, his rebellion from Heaven, and now his self-banishment. And for what? For the sake of two people who currently didn't know him as friend or foe. The Sam and Dean he knew, meanwhile, had probably assumed him dead and moved on; a casualty of a losing battle.
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All he had was more information, but that might just make them further inclined to label him as insane and leave it at that. He knew more about them than anyone should have, but once again, that could easily lead to more suspicions. He could already see it in their faces, the way they were looking him up and down as if he was their enemy rather than their ally. He would have deemed it disrespectful, but in this case he could not fault them too much.
The entirety of what Sam said was a mystery to him, and again Castiel found his shoulders tensing up at the mention of his brother's name. The wound in his shoulder was aggravated once more, and it took an admirable amount of willpower to not grab for it in response. Instead, he smoothed out his expression and shook his head.
"That's not my name," he said, wanting to get that cleared up before anything else. He could have mentioned Michael, but that would come later. The significance of the mislabeling had yet to become clear to him. "Nor am I a... detective." Not in the sense that Sam was thinking of, at least. He certainly knew how to investigate things, though his methods were usually different from what humans would first imagine when hearing that word. He had learned some from Dean, but that hardly seemed to matter at this point. Neither of them knew of it.
"Whoever you saw must have been some sort of doppelganger." Shapeshifting was not impossible, especially for those creatures who were known for it. But angels could manage it as well; Gabriel was a more recent example. He wanted to believe that his brother had learned his lesson after they'd almost left him to rot in that ring of fire, but maybe not.
As for Dean's question, Castiel once again leveled a stare on the man before he replied. "I can sense it," he said, and he was at least grateful that he still had the ability to do something that basic. "I've been severely weakened, but normally my capabilities would span much further than that." Much, much further. It had been taken away from him bit by bit. First, his rebellion from Heaven, and now his self-banishment. And for what? For the sake of two people who currently didn't know him as friend or foe. The Sam and Dean he knew, meanwhile, had probably assumed him dead and moved on; a casualty of a losing battle.