[ he'd protest, but this isn't really an appropriate venue for an argument about his worth. she's clearly capable of doing more than he is at the present moment, so despite himself he chooses to comply. maybe it's the exhaustion, unfamiliar in the way it deadens and weights his limbs; maybe it's the pain. if only she hadn't noticed him— she must be a hunter, he thinks. or someone else with combat experience, anyway.
he wanted to become a hunter. to be like the winchesters. strange, that he can't quite remember why. he's an angel— he answers to heaven. he— he has to do something.
even if something is just waiting. ]
... I can wait.
[ he eyes the backpack— he never gathered his own. he's not really one for material items. later, he'll have to go back and find it. ]
no subject
he wanted to become a hunter. to be like the winchesters. strange, that he can't quite remember why. he's an angel— he answers to heaven. he— he has to do something.
even if something is just waiting. ]
... I can wait.
[ he eyes the backpack— he never gathered his own. he's not really one for material items. later, he'll have to go back and find it. ]