God.
Angels.
Lucifer.
Staring at the pattern the moonlight made on the floor, through the grime-spotted window, Dean felt the shiver start down in his toes, working its way slowly up his legs and spine.
All real. That's what the angel said. All of it. Real.
God has work for you.
Also real, goddamnit.
It was a spotlight too big and too bright for him. He couldn't stand there, alone and exposed like that. He was a hunter, used to using the shadows of the world to hide in. Do your job. Hunt things. Save people.
Not the fucking world.
