It doesn't hit him at first. It takes a moment of awkward, dead silence after Jack stops talking for his brain to rewind and remind himself that Cas means you. The dawning of it can be seen wash over him, sharp contemplative eyes widening, ponderous furrowed brows arching, and neutral set to his lips falling open.
"I— Wha—" He looks from Jack to Sam, as if Sam will tell him 'no, no, he obviously meant another Cas, the Cas standing behind you', and boomeranged back to Jack again. He points a finger to his chest, dumbly. Back, again, to Sam, mouth agape with helpless eyes in the tone of I didn't mean to. It's possibly the most expressive Castiel's been all year. This man is not prepared for a corner store beer run, let alone parenthood. "But that's—"
Impossible, well, not really, it's not like he doesn't know the mechanics, and there's already been moments like April, even if that ended with a double fatality. Highly unlikely, sure. But impossible? We'll just say, it's not the future Cas had anticipated for himself. Well, that makes not remembering Jack all the worse. Way to be a shitty dad, Cas.
"Me? I'm your- Your father?" Finally, Cas falls more than sits into the chair, watching Jack in wonder as if he's some glowing unicorn that just tumbled into his lap (kinda is), voice much less sturdy than he started this conversation with.
"How? And how are you—" A vague gesture to Jack's entire being. "Two?"
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It doesn't hit him at first. It takes a moment of awkward, dead silence after Jack stops talking for his brain to rewind and remind himself that Cas means you. The dawning of it can be seen wash over him, sharp contemplative eyes widening, ponderous furrowed brows arching, and neutral set to his lips falling open.
"I— Wha—" He looks from Jack to Sam, as if Sam will tell him 'no, no, he obviously meant another Cas, the Cas standing behind you', and boomeranged back to Jack again. He points a finger to his chest, dumbly. Back, again, to Sam, mouth agape with helpless eyes in the tone of I didn't mean to. It's possibly the most expressive Castiel's been all year. This man is not prepared for a corner store beer run, let alone parenthood. "But that's—"
Impossible, well, not really, it's not like he doesn't know the mechanics, and there's already been moments like April, even if that ended with a double fatality. Highly unlikely, sure. But impossible? We'll just say, it's not the future Cas had anticipated for himself. Well, that makes not remembering Jack all the worse. Way to be a shitty dad, Cas.
"Me? I'm your- Your father?" Finally, Cas falls more than sits into the chair, watching Jack in wonder as if he's some glowing unicorn that just tumbled into his lap (kinda is), voice much less sturdy than he started this conversation with.
"How? And how are you—" A vague gesture to Jack's entire being. "Two?"