So he was becoming stupid as well as weak. This was not encouraging news. Her discomfort was obvious, as the stupidity of asking a demon to direct him should have been even in this addled state. “I am... sorry. I forget, sometimes, what you are.” He tilted his head, viewed Ruby sidelong, tried his best understanding look. “I would take that as a compliment as to the success of your transition.”
Castiel glanced back down. The glass was still cupped between his hands. He'd left fingerprints on the glass. He must have left them on hundreds of things before now, thinking logically, but it seemed fitting this was the first time he noticed them – sobering, too. Naturally the solution was to drink more. He barely noticed that he was filling glass himself once he'd drained it. Baby steps or monumental ones, he supposed it mattered little at this point.
It was frustrating, the way she insisted on making sense. Struggling for counterarguments felt like a force of habit more than anything. “You have a template you can return you. You were not always... as you were, before you decided to change. I have always followed orders...” He trailed off, lamely, when she asked if he thought it was worth it. 'Worth' was a value judgement, was it not? Angels did not deal in degrees, only in absolutes. Either something was willed or it was not.
Perhaps it was time to accept that he wasn't, strictly speaking, part of that club any more. "I... believe it is. My Father would wish me to support His creation."