[Castiel just stares at him suspiciously at the understanding, but his fingers tighten around the glass almost to the point of cracking it. He's angry and frustrated and hurt, and the alcohol isn't helping him keep any control over his emotions.
He vaguely realizes he should stop drinking, because two glasses is enough if it's the stuff for angels; he just doesn't realize he's already gone over the edge.
And he knows what Lucifer is saying is true. He'd made the mistake at home, with the Winchesters, and then here, with Erik. He'd been foolish to put his trust in someone, and he normally wouldn't have, but he'd thought...
Well, it doesn't matter. He hates it but Lucifer's right; people will turn on you. But even people he knew as well as the Winchesters had so, and he hadn't been able to stop it.]
They're not always predictable.
[It's a mumble into the glass he he takes another drink, even though he knows he shouldn't.]
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He vaguely realizes he should stop drinking, because two glasses is enough if it's the stuff for angels; he just doesn't realize he's already gone over the edge.
And he knows what Lucifer is saying is true. He'd made the mistake at home, with the Winchesters, and then here, with Erik. He'd been foolish to put his trust in someone, and he normally wouldn't have, but he'd thought...
Well, it doesn't matter. He hates it but Lucifer's right; people will turn on you. But even people he knew as well as the Winchesters had so, and he hadn't been able to stop it.]
They're not always predictable.
[It's a mumble into the glass he he takes another drink, even though he knows he shouldn't.]