The angels from between
Castiel contemplated that for a moment as he glanced at the lobster tank. “I suppose I hadn’t thought of that,” he said, as he hesitantly glanced at his own plate which he had almost finished by then. He looked at Jack.
“No, I suppose that is alright, Jack, just don’t tell Sam,” he told the Nephil. Sam was always making sure that Jack ate his dinner before moving on to dessert. Castiel suspected it was due to not wanting Jack to pick up Dean’s poor eating habits.
Castiel looked across the table at Hannah. “Is there anything you would like to do after this?” he asked. “It might be a good idea to return to the bunker and try to get some sleep.” He had hoped that Lucifer’s interruption hadn’t disrupted the evening too much, but he also felt that after what the two of them had been through together, that perhaps a good night’s sleep might be in order for them. Of course, they wouldn’t need any sleep if their captives hadn’t drained their grace.
Jack looked down at his lap upon the mention of Sam. He felt bad that he was going behind his back to eat sweets.
“Maybe... I shouldn’t eat dessert then, either. I’m not really hungry anyways.”
Hannah watched the guilt trip Jack went through and took a pause herself; maybe she shouldn’t be eatting as much as she was when Castiel and the nephil both hardly touched their food. She sat her fork down, remembering herself, and cleared her throat.
“You’re right. Going back to the bunker would be best, though I’m not sure I’m welcome.”
