Cas almost laughed at being called sir. He couldn’t remember ever being called that. “I don’t know how,” Castiel said, fingering the band, “but I think I know what.” He stopped walking. “The woman. She was… fodder for you. I haven’t been able to see into the mind of another until my moj-“ Castiel’s eyes took on an unusual caste. “I have your power.” His voice was light, a little breathless and it didn’t seem aimed at Damien.
“This thing is giving me your power, your focus as well. Way more of you than I want,” but there was little disgust in his voice. There was more wonder there. More than there should have been. A little voice in the back of his head demanded he leave, he get as far away from Damien as possible but Castiel pushed it aside. Not to avoid the inevitable illness but to gravitate towards the twisted perversion of his natural state. It was then he felt the chill. He was started to sober up. He tensed instantly. “I need to get home.” He kept his eyes on Damien’s. “And I need to know… what else can you do?”