( i-am-not-psychotic )
"What sort of things?" Jojo asked, looking over at the stranger.
The answer was easy, so he thought, but words still laid heavily in the back of his throat. Perhaps this, too, was better left unsaid, when the outcome could bring consequences Castiel would have to bear with.
Consequences no angel would willingly take on.
The thought process took an end even before the angel could ask himself why he'd said that, and even now Castiel did not question for why he spoke with no order to do so.
It wasn't in his nature. Yet, after all, somehow it was. Had always been.
——–“Doubts. Questioning. Disbelief. Sometimes I wonder why,” he said,
“Why we all have to undergo this test of faith.”