"Go with it," Cas repeated softly to himself. It rang a little too close to the demands of Heaven that he was well acquainted with already - follow your orders, do not question, fulfill your duty… Cas had long since left such obedience by the wayside. Not that that had ended well, either.
Cas smiled at the cat at his feet, quiet for a moment, but the expression was a haunted, sickly thing. “I could take them to Rose's shelter,” he said, almost as if he hadn't heard Azrael's coaxing. “They'd be well-cared for there. But… they chose their homes here. I don't wish to take that away from them.”
He was quiet for a long moment after that. He still couldn’t bear to speak of it openly, but his brothers here, if they knew what he’d done, if they could sense the death rattles of other angels on his true hands, staining his wings with sin and blood… If they knew, they hadn’t yet blamed him for it. Dean’s patience and gentleness was appreciated, and it had helped him come so far…. but it wasn't his place to forgive those crimes.
Slowly he raised hollow eyes to Azrael. “Samandriel… I think… he might be afraid of me.” He was scarcely able to get the next words out, petting the cat in his lap almost compulsively, his hands gentle, more to soothe himself than the cat. “I've been hiding here too long,” he whispered. “I shouldn't let myself forget.”