The words are like a knife beneath Castiel's ribcage.
"It's too late for that, Naomi."
Tears welling in her eyes, Naomi looks at the ground instead of at Castiel. "Yes, I...I thought as much. For that I truly
sorry. If there is anything I can do to change your mind—"
"There isn't. Not outside of brainwashing me as you have done so many times before, which I assure you, I will
let happen again."
"I only meant, if I could make it up to you someh—"
"I don't care what you meant," Castiel snaps.
"Cas," Dean says urgently. "We gotta go. I gotta get to Sam."
"Please," Naomi interrupts Castiel's reply. "Let me help with that."
The next second Castiel is left standing there alone in the damp air.
"Sonuva—" Dean cuts off as he steadies himself and shakes Naomi's hand off his shoulder. "Get off me, you damn harpy."
She doesn't scold him or try to correct him, only holds her tongue and looks cowed.
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