Sonnet 144
Two loves I have, of comfort and despair,
Which, like two spirits, do suggest me still;
The better angel is a man right fair,
The worser spirit a woman colored ill.
He feels nothing when he looks at Meg. Nothing disturbs his fragile inner balance, nothing deters the free meandering of his thoughts. He sees her true face, reads her history in it, but it doesn't matter. It's her pain, not his, unrelated to his. It doesn't remind him.
She is a constant presence in his room. Even Castiel, humorless as he usually was, would have found the idea of a demon watching over an angel highly ironic. In his current state however, Cas can only marvel at her. She is a peaceful, comforting presence, despite the swirl of anger and restlessness in her. She's beautiful.
He can barely stand to look at Dean. For one moment, after he woke up and Dean came to see him, he thought he could do it. He looked into Dean's eyes and was almost able to return that hopeful smile on Dean's lips. He thought maybe he would look into Dean's eyes and see God's plan, the way he saw it everywhere else. But Dean had always flouted whatever plans were made for him, hadn't he. He'd taught Castiel to do the same. When Cas looks at Dean he doesn't see peace or a purpose; he only sees every mistake he's ever made. After all, Dean was there for all of them.
So Cas doesn't look at Dean, and Cas doesn't let himself think too hard. He counts on his mind's tendency to follow its own patterns and paths, lets it roam and doesn't try to focus on anything. He looks at Meg, he studies her. She fits into the plan so well.
He senses Dean's frustration with him, but he doesn't look at it or try to fix it. He can't fix it, he knows that. He can make sandwiches, and watch the bees. They're such industrious little creatures, and they all follow the plan laid out for them. If they didn't, they would die, and so would the hive. The bees know this; why didn't Castiel? He asks himself this once, and it hurts so much that he has to stop watching the bees all together.
He knows, intellectually, that Meg is a demon. She's bad, not to be trusted. Dean is the one he can trust. Dean always does the right thing, even if it's hard. Dean is good, a righteous man. He should cling to Dean and shy from Meg…but as soon as he grasps this, his thoughts scramble and his mind wanders. Wonders? It meanders away.
Choosing Dean would mean facing all the mess behind that wall he's built up in his mind. It stings and aches sometimes, but he can keep those feelings at a distance as long as he isn't standing shoulder to shoulder with Dean Winchester.
He knows Dean is good and Meg is bad, but Meg makes him feel good and Dean makes him feel bad. Cas can't figure out how that fits together, what it means...and since it confuses him and scares him to try, he doesn't.
Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out.