Castiel made a soft noise of discontent and frustration, staring across at Balthazar with a kind of withering irritation. He wanted that bottle - any bottle - anything that would shut the world and all its noise out. But it didn't come. Balthazar was now holding out on him.

He scowled.

"If I were mad at you, do you imagine I would be drinking with you? I have been inebriated before. I have no intention of...of..."

What was he trying to say? It had slipped from his mind completely. He grimaced, and looked down at his hand, still wrapped around his previous empty glass.

"Don't you wish, sometimes, to simply be able to step away from what we are? I am an angel, of course, but..."