"Were you ever going to tell us that you met God?" Emma asks once they're in the car.

"I want to rephrase that," James says, "because you're an angel, so it's definitely not the meeting God part that's bothering me. Were you ever going to tell us that you pissed God off?"

"No," Castiel says simply.

"If you think praying to Him might draw His attention to us, and not in a good way, don't you think that's something we should know?" James asks.

"No."

"Why not?" Emma asks.

"I have never met anyone who was dragged into the hunting life who still had faith in a kind and caring God," Castiel says. "Hannah is five, and she does believe in God. The odds of her turning to Him after meeting an angel are much higher than they would be for you."

"But still," Emma says, "you're fighting God."

"Sam and Dean are fighting God," Castiel corrects her. "Them and whatever friends they still have left. I am going to stay as far from this fight as possible before I make things worse."

"They're fighting God," Emma repeats. "They shot God. God Himself has a personal vendetta against them. How could you possibly make that any worse?"

"That's what I always say before making things worse," Castiel says.

"You say that like you make things worse a lot," James remarks. "From what I've heard, Sam and Dean are always getting in over their heads, so I really doubt you make much of a difference."

"We have been on one hunt, and my ignorance had already gotten at least two people killed," Castiel says.

James groans. "Great, so now I've got Emma blaming herself about the kids and you blaming yourself for the parents. Can't we just acknowledge that we exorcised a demon and saved Hannah and call it a day?"

"Emma, what do you think you did?" Castiel asks.

"Nothing," she mutters. "Forget it." With a glare at James, she adds, "and fuck you for bringing it up.".

"One day, you're both going to realize how dramatic you are," James says. "So you got possessed. So you didn't see the demon. Big fucking deal. The thing knocked me out the second I opened the door, and you don't see me complaining."

"That wasn't your fault," Castiel and Emma say in unison.

"That's the whole point!" James says. "I swear, it's like talking to a brick wall. Emma, there's literally not a single thing you could have done to not get possessed. That's the whole point of possession. And Castiel, you had just healed half the family and me, and it looked like the demon had left. You were two seconds from passing out. Of course you didn't see it was demon; you could barely stand up. So quit your whining and just focus on the fact that we saved Hannah and got some fried chicken in the process."

They're all silent at first. Castiel stares out the window, purposely trying to avoid eye contact with them. James does bring up a valid point. Maybe if he had been with someone like this since the beginning, someone who could analyze situations and look for the positives, he wouldn't still feel like it's all his fault.

He must admit, this is a nice change. The last thing Dean said to him before he left was that he was the root of all their problems. He got Mary killed, he got Rowena killed, he ruined everything. Had it not been for Dean, he may not have ever blamed himself for their deaths, though he's slowly realizing through his conversions with others that it wasn't really his fault. There's no one here trying to pin the blame on him. James's optimism and Emma's overworked sense of accountability are sparing his own feelings, even if it can't free himself or Emma of all the guilt.

But one day, it might. He could get used to this. Focusing on the positives is easier when the negatives don't involve the start to a whole new apocalypse. Working on a smaller scale with more forgiving people may be what he needs to ease himself of the guilt.

"I swear to god, you guys are the most pessimistic people I know," James says. "If i turn on the radio and a sad song starts playing, are you two going to start crying?"

"Oh, shut up," Emma says.

"I'll take that as a no," James replies, turning on the radio.

Castiel doesn't recognize the song that's playing. Honestly, the only songs he could recognize are from the 1970s, and this sure as hell isn't one of them. It's peppy and upbeat, though, and he can't complain. It's a much needed change of mood.

"I changed my mind," James says immediately. "No more radio." He reaches to turn it off, and Emma snacks his hand away.

"I love it when you can me senorita!" Emma sings along loudly, seemingly just to spite him.

James sighs loudly. "I should have left the radio on the 90s station."

So, naturally, Emma has to sing along to the whole song. It's rather entertaining, especially when she breaks out the tiny dance moves. It's almost like old times with Dean — but he needs to stop comparing everything to the Winchesters. They're gone now, and there's nothing he can or should do about it. He'd much rather be here watching Emma's weird dancing.

And then the song changes.

Castiel doesn't pay much attention to it at first. After a brief argument between the two hunters up front, James reluctantly agrees to let it play as long as Emma doesn't sing, so she dramatically lip syncs it instead. It's impossible to do so without it being dramatic — the song is more dramatic than anything Dean has ever let play in his car.

But he needs to stop thinking about Dean.

So he listens to the song instead.

It doesn't help.

I saw the signs and I ignored it.

Rose colored glasses all distorted.

Set fire to my purpose.

And I let it burn.

"Can you change the song?" Castiel blurts out.

"Thank you!" James says immediately.

"Wait, wait, we're almost at my favorite part," Emma says. "La da da da, these are words, no one cares..." She beams as she sings along — against James's orders, but he only sighs and lets her continue. "We'd always go into it blindly. I needed to lose you to find me. This dancing was killing me softly. I needed to lose you to love me."

She sings the next "To love, love, yeah!'s with the biggest smile on her face, and, had it been any other song, he might have thought it was funny, but not this. Not when the words hit too close to home.

"Please change the song," Castiel says again.

"Why?" Emma whines. She glances at him in the rearview mirror, then does a double take before twisting around in her seat to look at him. "You look sad. Why are you sad?"

"Just please change the song," Castiel says, the only answer he'll give.

James must hear the sadness in his voice, because he changes it immediately. Emma's too distracted by Castiel to even notice.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"Nothing." He's long since learned that that's the only appropriate response to the question.

"Something is very clearly wrong," she says.

"Aren't you supposed to nod and not ask again?" Castiel asks. "I thought that was how humans do this."

"That might be how the Winchesters did it, but we've already established that they suck, so that's not important," Emma says, but then it dawns on her. "That's why you don't like the song, isn't it? You don't just hate Selena Gomez. It reminds you of them."

Castiel just looks out the window in silence.

"I get it," she says. "We won't play it again." She pauses. "Probably."

"Emma!" James hisses, slapping her arm.

"Okay, we actually won't play it again," Emma says. "But I'm glad you relate to the lyrics. I'm glad you finally realized you're better without them."

Castiel sighs. "I know."

I am, too.

But that doesn't make it any easier.