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[ One meeting was enough. Every angel knew Lucifer's story. He fell because he couldn't love humanity, Castiel... that was never his problem. They stood on opposing sides, speaking with him wouldn't change that and he wouldn't put Sam through that ordeal without something to gain.

The look of relief is something difficult to watch. He left him in that cage knowing full well the torture he'd endure. Asking him to interact with that part of his life was not something he was willing to do so easily. Not after abandoning him once before. ]

Considering what's happened to you, I'm surprised you have any left. The angels...

[ He trails off, his mouth closing to a grim line remembering all those times he tried to reason with them, clashed with them. In the beginning, he was no different following orders without question, so willing to defend a faith that kept unraveling with every order handed down to him. ]

I... don't expect you to. I'm as much in the dark as you are Sam.

[ He sets the leather volume back on the stack of books he had yet to read. ]

This is all I can offer. I'm sorry I can't be of more help.

[He shakes his head, eyes closed. There's a flash of pain across his face — it is not from Lucifer, but of raw emotion from terrible, terrible memories. Memories of after he said yes, but — also memories of before.]

To be honest, I really, um. I don't have much left to spare.

... It was bad, Cas. The years after I last saw you and Dean, it — [He sighs, shakes off the worst of it. Selfishly languishing in his misery, in his mistakes and punishments. It's stupid. It doesn't matter; those days can sit with him, only him, as they rightly should.] It doesn't matter now.

What matters is... trying to do something with this... small opportunity I've got.

For whatever its worth.

[ Deep inside his vessel, anchored by blood and grace, his true form stirs in resonance for the soul he could not save. Castiel watches Sam breathe deeply, eyes closed, and stays silent giving him this moment. In his eyes, he failed him. He was their guardian and yet he let Sam sacrifice himself on his brother's altar. ]

Sam... [ His wings shift, unsettled. ] It matters.

[ Knowing it was his choice didn't stop the remorse from rising up like bile. Weak and graceless, Castiel was next to useless back then. Now at least, he could do something. Be of use. Spurred on by that feeling, Castiel steps into his space, facing him. He couldn't pretend he didn't see the pain that cut straight to the bone of his soul, flayed open by a well-trained hand. ]

Sam. What you went through... It's no small miracle you're standing here.

Whatever you need. I'll be here.

[Sam smiles weakly... but it's genuine all the same. A small, flickering hope that is very roughly kindled — the kind that could be wiped out with a sudden little gust.]

I'm not so sure I believe in miracles, these days...

... But, uh. If you're okay with it — I'd like to read through what's in here.

See if I can scrounge up one of my own.

[Miracles, that is. Fragile, awful, scarce things, 'miracles'.]

I want to believe in them.

[ Want. Not 'do'. The sting of God's indifference still lingers inside him. Joshua's message to them was the closest he'd ever come to God and the close encounter left his faith in shambles. Hollow and alone. He was lost to this day acting not on God's will but his own. ]

I can help. [ He reaches out to pick one of the leatherbound books he so diligently collected. ] Two is better than one.

I want to believe, too.

[He doesn't sound like he thinks he'll ever really be able to put his faith in such a thing, not anymore. But maybe Castiel can just... carry some hope for the both of them. Or they can sit in their hopelessness and try their best regardless.

Either way, he nods, eyes fluttering shut in relief and thanks, before he sits down with a book.]

Much better than one.

[Time to get reading.]

[ Opening the book to the last entry he remembers, Castiel stays standing, reading quietly to himself turning page after page every few seconds. Soon, he's sucked into the lore and spellcraft of the inner bindings of the book finishing it not long after and setting it back on his 'read' pile before picking up another. The day draws to a close in the same fashion with the angel working steadily through the books with a few occasional comments and odd faces when he finds something of interest. Finding himself at home with a book in his hands, Castiel loses track of time with his head in the clouds of research. ]

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