Castiel prods at the slice of pie sitting in front of him. It is necessary for his body to take in food, but he never particularly expected to enjoy it, or choose meals because they were something HE liked. Castiel doesn't even choose foods because Jimmy can remember enjoying them. He hasn't been able to feel Jimmy's presence at all for a very long time, something he hasn't told the Winchesters. Especially not Dean.
Delicately (forks occasionally rebel) he slips another piece of pie and enjoys all the different components that compose something greater than themselves, and tastier. The thought of the Winchester brothers fills him with what, if he had the word, he would label as unease. That they do not know he has entirely consumed Jimmy is...not problematic. He wonders what they would say if they knew that this form is utterly Castiel's now, that for the first time he is trying to actually work the body rather than just operating as a puppeteer. He wonders if Dean would consider it murder.
Does HE consider it murder?
He is one of the fallen now, could it be that his consumption of Jimmy wasn't just a natural progression of a vessel? Is that why he can't find his Father? Because now he is no longer one of the heavenly host, now he is tarnished, a fallen angel no different from his brothers.
"Dude, you know your face is gonna stay that way if you aren't careful." Dean slumps into the chair opposite him, drapes an arm over the back of the chair and grins.
"I did not sense another of the antichrist here, Dean." Castiel would really rather not almost stab a child to death, or be turned into a plastic idol. It was highly uncomfortable.
Dean laughs, and steals part of the pie's crust. Castiel would grin back, but he is too distracted by considering just how this human across from him can affect so many things simply by existing. Not just the world, but Castiel himself. He sacrificed so much for the sake of this man, and feels a strange plummeting sensation whenever the possibility arises that something might happen to Dean, or worse, to their companionship. For some reason, the thought of Dean continuing to exist without him is...unsettling.
"Cas..." Dean's eyebrows furrow and it takes Castiel a moment to differentiate between 'annoyed face' and 'concerned face'. The differences between them can be frustratingly minute. "You okay man?"
"I am...fine." There is a pause as he tilts his head to the side in concentration, before digging back into his sadly neglected partially mauled pie. He is fine. There is pie, and for now there is Dean, and that strange feeling of being in a vice has vanished. For now, things are good.