For all of the looking after him that Meg did, she was still the thorny beauty he made mention of when he was not all right in the head. When she would show a moment of softness toward him, it would prompt her not long after to snap at him. Because he was used to it, Castiel didn't actually put too much thought in it. If he had cause to worry about her turning around and abandoning him, leaving him to fend of himself, he thought he would know. As sad as the thought was, as hopeless and despairing, he was used to being left behind and being forced to fight his own battles. There was a small part of him that knew at some point he'd have to work out being human for himself, because he couldn't rely on her forever.
At her question, he looked down at the plate of half-eaten eggs, suddenly losing his appetite because he didn't want to think about what reaching out to Sam and Dean might mean. He still hadn't asked yet what they last remembered, because he was afraid the answer he might get was around the same time he came from. Dean barely even wanted to talk to him after what he'd done and that was after he tried to go and get provisions for the base of operations they were now staying at.
"It's... complicated." He finally said as he glanced up from the plate, back to where she was standing. "When Dean answered me, on that tablet, he asked me what version of myself I happened to be." He was a straight forward sort of being, not the type to want to lie, although he felt he needed to speak almost cryptically at this moment because of why he was afraid of reaching out to the brothers. "From the time I came from, I almost killed Dean while we were in Lucifer's crypt."