"Nice digs," Gabriel whistles, "a real cheery mausoleum you've got, Castiel."
Castiel doesn't argue because he is tired, so tired, for if there's an age at which the weight of the world doesn't feel so heavy, he hasn't reached it yet, and all he can say is, "What do you want, Gabriel?"
"Just to ask if you want to get out of here, little bro," Gabriel says, older and wiser for it, if only a little, cause he's figured out that some burdens can only be carried if you're willing to throw them off sometimes.
