"I'm sorry," he said, advancing in her direction. And he flat out meant it this time. "If things were different..." He fell to a halt just outside of the barrier, lowering his arm. "Remember what I said in that post? About having to choose between the people that I care about and a perfect stranger?" He looked down and shrugged. "I wish that I'd been given that choice. But...I had to choose between people I care about. And someone that I think I care about." He met her eyes as he said that last part.
"I'm sorry," he repeated.
He saw her knife, poking out from that little holster that she carried around on her hip. He eyed it for a second. Then he heard her cry out for Castiel and that sympathy that he'd shared with her died away, quickly replaced with the flames of anger that had lingered there before.
"I told you not to bring him," Sam snarled, stepping past the barrier while making a mad swipe for her knife.