Castiel's relief was obvious when she mentioned that the death she saw wasn't of the slayer, and he gave a small nod. For a moment a flicker in his eyes allowed to see a glimpse of the old him, the mild tempered angel that occasionally had some control issues. Even he felt the change in himself, but he didn't allow it for very long. He was on soldier mode. They were at war. The difference was that, right now, for the first time he felt some sort of hope that they might actually win.
"You have nothing to apologize for. Thank you, Destiny. I appreciate your assistance." She had done more than enough, and he was eternally grateful for it. Maybe approaching a gypsy for answers wasn't something that an angel should be doing, but they needed this help. His energy switched from an angry and roaring feel to it, to something stronger. Something that wasn't fueled by rage and guilt alone, but it contained a bit of hope in it. Hope that was dangerous if he allowed it to grow too much, because he was afraid of getting his hopes up, but at least he no longer felt like he would explode in a matter of seconds and annihilate Everett in his wake.
"If you need my assistance in anything, or if there is anything I can do for you, do not hesitate to let me know." He knew he didn't need to explain how, or how he would find her. Destiny was well versed in this, after all. With a small nod of thanks, he disappeared in a blink. He would stay behind and help her clean, but he needed to talk to Faith. They needed to plan.
The first September moon. They didn't have much time, so at once he focused on the prison, and narrowed his search to wherever Faith was so that he could transport himself in the same room as she was.