Now Gabriel looked, and he snorted at the expression on Aziraphale's face before glancing away again. "Oh, don't bother. He's still alive and kicking; he just went native, even more than I did. Palling around with the two meatheads who were meant to be Michael and Lucifer's vessels."

There was a irritable sarcasm to his tone which didn't quite manage to hide an underlying, almost musing fragility. Castiel the faithful. Castiel the idiot-who-followed-the-Righteous-Man-without-thinking. Gabriel still wasn't certain whether he wished he could have seen the other angel again, told him he might have been right, or not.