Supernatural – An exploding Angel

'I feel...strange,' said Castiel, his usual confused expression graced his face. He never could quite grasp the concept of everything human; how they reacted to certain circumstances in ways he was positive he would never behave. He liked to be composed. Informed.

'Dude,' choked Dean with a laugh of disbelief, 'angel or no angel, I was sure you just got ganked!'

'That was a highly improbable possibility,' replied Castiel, taking Dean's outstretched hand. 'It went the way I had intended,' he stated in a less than believable manner, pulling himself up from the cobbled ground, the smell of smoke radiating all around.

What had occurred moments ago was something of a disaster for both Dean and Castiel. They were without Sam on this occasion for the simple reason that he still lay asleep, in a bed, in a nice warm motel room, a good mile away from where they were at right now. The reason for this whole scenario –

'You never touch the Impala!' Dean had whined, waving his gun at Castiel who awkwardly hung his head in shame. 'Damn it, Cas! I nearly shot you!' The sight of midnight shadows illuminated the blinds in the motel room Dean restlessly lay in, his bed bumpy. The moment he witnessed movement, he was lunging for the door ready for a fight before he was confronted by the horrifying sight of Castiel prodding the hood of his beloved car. 'I – I was merely rubbing away dirt,' offered Castiel meekly at which Dean, nose scrunching with his glare, exclaimed, 'by clawing at it?!' Dean's eyes narrowed in an accusatory stare. 'What are you doing out here, Cas?' Castiel, in his gravelled tone, replied 'Waiting...until you both awoke. I have urgent news.' Dean's mouth widened, hanging open in exasperation: 'It's one in the morning! Urgent? You don't wait till me and Sam drag our asses out of bed, you wake us!' Castiel nodded, 'My apologies. I am unaware of how to deal with such situations. I was always advised to allow at least seven hours of sleep before waking a human for prime mind function to be, well, functioning suitably.' Dean squeezed the handle of his gun, 'Cut to the chase, Cas! What's going down?' Castiel hesitated, his gaze a gambling look of uncertainty about how he imagined Dean's reaction to be before finally deciding to declare: 'I swallowed it. I – I didn't intend to but it was the only option that came to mind at the time.' Dean's face contorted into various forms of confusion. 'Swallowed it? Swallowed what, Cas?' he asked. 'A demon!' Castiel growled distastefully. 'It came from nowhere; I was ill prepared for such an attack. There was a lack of time for any reaction other than inhaling its putrid essence!' Dean blinked slowly several times, shaking his head as if to awaken himself from what he told himself was obviously some deluded dream. 'Say again?' he demanded, eyes closed as if he was about to laugh himself awake. 'This isn't funny, Dean. The voice says I'm almost out of...minutes?' Castiel himself appeared confused. 'I cannot begin to imagine what it means,' he said. That was until the low grumble began, growing into an echoing rumble of what sounded like an avalanche. Then came the rippling bubbles which raced under Castiel's skin as he began to expand wider and wider in front of Dean's widening eyes. 'Cas, what the hell...' Castiel gripped his sides as he grew, his expression harshening as he yelled at Dean to 'Vacate! Vacate!' at which point Dean frantically delved into his pockets for the keys to his Impala, which upon finding them threw himself into his car and tore away from Castiel's location. 'Get you to safety,' he said, patting the steering wheel to his beloved car, whilst looking in the rear-view mirror at the image of Castiel reaching bus-size before – BOOM! ...Or so Dean would have thought, should there have been any noise at all, at which there was none, but instead just flumes of dark fumes that wafted from the detonation sight. Dean screeched to a halt a mile away, rigidly opening the car door, getting out. 'Cas!' He yelled. 'Hell,' he choked, hyperventilating slightly before leaning into his car in horror. 'Cas,' he whispered, suddenly overcome with sadness that swarmed his body in a flood of immensity. His mouth hung open once more, he ran his fingers through his hair – what should he do? How could he tell Sam about this? How could he believe this himself? 'How do I take this?!' he growled, shocked. He was about to scream to the heavens, to everyone and everything that was listening before...he heard him. The slight gravelling groan. He spun around, arms wide in glee as he ran to Castiel who was lying flat out on the rough ground. 'Cas!' Dean yelled, racing over to his friend who was smoking; the hair on his head spewing smoked puffs.

'No one could ever intend for that!' Dean said, laughing and relieved, hugging his friend.

Castiel's eyebrow raised – the look of acknowledgement known so well by the Winchesters. 'It hurt,' Castiel said peacefully yet ponderously. 'It felt, what I could only imagine, like what being the cork preventing an erupting volcano must feel like before it finally is, sadly, deployed into an explosion of scorching fire.'

All Dean could do was laugh, helping his friend walk toward the motel in his dazed, whacked state.

'Dean,' Castiel said, stopping Dean by pulling his shirt; an intensity burning in his jittering, twitching gaze. 'Always,' and he repeated once more, 'always, close your mouth when attacked.'

'Oh, no, I will,' Dean said, yanking his friend along once more, eyes to the ground in a you're-so-out-of-it expression. 'An exploding angel. That's hilarious. Never seen that before.'

...Little did he know.