Castiel didn't really understand you. You were a hunter, and had been with the Winchesters for years, practically an honorary member of their family. When you were with them, you were all smiley and happy. However, whenever the angel came around, you were closed off and quiet. He couldn't quite get a grasp on why. Earth and humans were still new to him, but based on what he'd picked up, he assumed he had done something wrong — something to make you dislike him.

That wasn't the case at all. From a young age, your parents had tried to drill the word of God into you, ingraining it deep into your head. You were taught about sins, and how you were damned to hell if you disobeyed the Lord and failed to dedicate your life to him. Your entire family was strict, and you'd always thought of yourself as unworthy. You were tainted and sinful, and genuinely feared that you were going to hell. Things got a bit better once you got away and started your own life, but the fear they instilled was still deep in your bones, lingering in the back of your mind. With the new knowledge that God, in fact, existed… it sent your mind reeling. Castiel was just a reminder of that, and it wasn't his fault.

“You don't like me much.” It was a statement, the first words that left the angel's lips once you existed the shower of your motel room. It was clear he'd waited on you. Cas's expression wasn't as blank as it usually was, a faint hint of a crease forming between his furrowed brows. He wanted you to at least trust him, like him like Sam and Dean did. His blue eyes were locked onto your own, an almost pitiful expression overtaking his features.