He'd been looking at her. At her alone, or...well not her, he'd looked past her almost, to the blood, to the precious blood. It was so much to him, practically everything.
"I didn't know it'd come to that, I know I was lying to him, I know that. The questions he would ask were ones I couldn't answer, didn't want to answer and then I thought I'd loose him, He trusted and I distracted him with blood and power, he got so caught up in it, and he had a talent for it, for hurting, I made him what he was in there didn't I. And I lost him anyway"
It wasn't right and good, not for everyone. Not for very many people.
What would she do with herself? What possibly could she say to that?
"I failed, do you know what happens in hell if you fail like that. If you make the mistakes I have. Do you know what they'd have done to me. It's what I'd do, give them their revenge because maybe they do deserve it, maybe it'd make them happy taking my life. My own knife, all kinds of poetic. Maybe thats how this should go, or Sam. I don't know Castiel, what do you want me to say except I really truly don't know."