“He really cried?” Danny’s words carried on the hot midday breeze and Castiel wondered about the shock he heard in it. As though an angel could not express themselves. Castiel scoffed to himself, but kept his ears perked for Jason’s response, and deftly tore through the thick vine in his hands.
“Yeah. Good thirty minutes at least. Then he was back to his usual self and asking about the harvest.” Castiel watched from the corner of his eye as Jason wiped the sweat on his forehead off with his sleeve, and the knife he was cutting vines with glinted in the afternoon sun. “I get the feeling that angels don’t do things the way we do. Seriously, if Castiel doesn’t normally have a flesh and blood body, he can’t really purge the bad s**t in a physical fashion.”
That was absolutely true. He was a
