"I don't like this, Dean, I don't like this at all," the massive engine roars around Dean, Sam and Cas as the airplane is about to take off, making its slow crawl along the runway. Everyone around them was hastily fastening seatbelts and shoving bags into overhead containers, ready for the upcoming flight.

Dean sat absolutely still, staring straight ahead at the seat in front of him, eyes wide, hands gripping the armrests so tight his knuckles were turning white. Cas looked like he was about the throw up- his face was extremely pale, and there was a thin line of sweat shining on his brow.

"Don't worry about it, Cas," Sam, who was sitting back in the seat, reading a book, said encouragingly, "It'll be over before you know it,"

"Well, if what you say is true," the angel turned to face Sam, eyes wide, "Then it could be over in two ways, one of which I do not like to think about,"

Suddenly, the engine gave a giant roar, and the airplane rocketed. Dean stiffened even more, and let out a low moan.

"That's it, isn't it? We're falling, we're falling, we're dead," he closed his eyes tightly.

"No, Dean, we're just taking off," Sam chuckled, "And Cas, would you just relax?"

Castiel's head was between his knees, and he was breathing heavily.

"I will, as you say, 'calm down'" (at this point, Cas made air quotations with his fingers) "when this airplane touches the ground, and my feet are safe on the tarmac,"