[ Cas expects it would go about as well as any other conversation they've had in the past few years; extremely poorly.

He can't quite remember the last time they talked without tearing into each other, flinging careless pain, needling at one another or hailing straight up verbal low blows. Their bond had been... something entirely profound once. Now? It felt like a leash, like a whip, like a double edged sword. ]

Well... no. But I mean.

[ Cas makes a vague gesture, sets the bottle down and slowly lowers himself onto the bed, stretching out a bit and sighing at the momentary relief it brings his wounds.

He's noted the window - chooses not to comment. Where to even begin with this place. ]

I mean, you mentioned monsters. Past... or... uh. Other Me, isn't going to let you fend for yourself, no? [ His head lolls to the side lightly, blue eyes on Dean. He's not being spiteful, but... ] It's you. [ As if that explains anything.

But really, it explains everything.

It's always been enough, and even when it wasn't, Cas still did it anyway because at that point, why choose a different poison. ]