[ Laughter was not the sort of response Castiel was expecting, but it's better than being shot, he supposes. ]

Thank you.

[ He has no idea what he's being praised for. His faith? What else could he possible be good at? He glances in the direction of the empty register where Dean's change still sits on the counter, forgotten. ]

I think you've frightened the poor individual behind the counter. I'd appreciate it if you would come with me peacefully and spare both of yourselves any more trauma.

[ Castiel is slow to look back at Dean, lost in thoughts of past violence, of God's work, and the irony of killing for peace. He knew Dean's history, but he hadn't expected Dean to fight him on this. He'd expected Dean to know the kind of weight he bears, the significance he holds. How is someone like Castiel supposed to explain it? He doesn't know enough. He isn't equipped. If explanations fail, taking Dean by force would be his only option, and is that really what God wants for him? It seems... counter-intuitive. Certainly unfortunate. When he looks back at Dean, his body language is unchanged, stiffly unbothered, though his brow is furrowed, blue eyes conflicted. ]