[ While Dean fixes the tie, Castiel just looks at him. Recounts the freckles that he years ago dusted back onto skin he was remaking for Dean. Contemplates the grace trapped deep within Dean. Wants to ask more, but cannot press.

Not yet.

He just lets Dean work in a moment of comfortable silence, intense blue eyes never wavering until Dean finally pulls back and the contact fades.

Angels can exist in the same space, grace mingling and entwining like humans hug or hold hands. Castiel can't deny that having Dean, his friend, his charge, his human, in his space is pleasant. There's a magnetic draw between Castiel's grace and Dean's soul, one he's always felt and pursued. It's a pleasant to change of pace to have Dean not push him away, but step closer himself, however briefly. ]

An angel blade. I managed to acquire two spares through the night market. You'll have one. I thought you might enjoy being better armed.

[ A frown flickers across his features as Castiel fastens the tie clip to the new tie. His fingers linger on the fabric, and he glances down, features softening. ]

The answers to all questions lie within the forest, but the forest holds great danger. People can die here, Dean. They don't always come back.