Steve followed to the room and noted the weapon on the table with some interest, but he touched nothing. Instead he simply took in the details of the weapon and then the room, which seemed different from the club through which they had passed.
The conversation took a somewhat unexpected turn as Steve stopped by a chair facing the table where Cas had cleared the weapon. "I knew I'd be attacked, that wasn't the problem. I allowed myself to get distracted, and the thing got the better of me. It didn't get that chance again. You owe no apologies for anything, you fought very well," he replied, still irritated with the fact that he was picked off in the fight regardless. He was accustomed to being targeted, that wasn't unusual; if he had to be taken out of a fight at least the creature that did it was no small thing.
It still brought to mind the questions he'd had during the fight: Meg's actions, and what they could have meant. Why? That was the question that had bothered him- still bothered him. The question was written on him still, if a person looked, but he didn't ask as he doubted he'd get a good answer. Then again, if anyone could tell him Castiel was that man.
"Whatever you've got is fine," he answered in relation to the drink offering. "I won't get drunk, so it really won't matter."