Castiel considered the food for a moment, slowly picking up one of the pastries and contrmeplating the jam while she spoke.
At her conviction he went still, and tilted his head. He didn't respond, it had been difficult enough for him to accept his Father's absense. He couldn't prove that God wasn't in this place, either, so sewing seeds of doubt among the believers of this place would do little to help.
At the question his eyes returned to hers, and he suddenly felt an overwhelming sadness set in his eyes and shoulders. He opened his mouth, trying to put the memory into words, then closed it again before considering what to say. He was a warrior, and while he had held some rank, he'd never been the more wellspoken of his brothers.
"All of Creation sang when God worked," he said at last, lifting one of the croissants but otherwise ignoring it. "To hear it was to be part of it. When He placed the stars there was a moment you could understand His plan, and you knew it was perfect, and beautiful. Heaven and Earth were the same, and it was all as it was meant to be."
The Grace of the angels was their strongest tie to that moment, the bond forged between their father and thier purpose. It was a heat and a light they were meant to carry to remind themselves of that perfection, and of God's will, and his love. Castiel was miserable without it.
He finally settled on the blackberry jam and put some on the pastry before taking a bite, attempting to forget his melencholy for a moment. When he'd swallowed he leaned back in the booth. "It was also very peaceful."