Innocently enough, Castiel walked up to Dean and reached out to tap the man on the shoulder. But rather than an innocuous touch, it was a near painful jolt. Castiel recoiled. His finger felt as though someone had pricked him with a pin. There was no residual pain, but the sensation itself was altogether unpleasant. He stared at the tip of his index finger as if it would explain the occurrence.

"Oww, Cas. Quit shuffling."

The angel peered at his feet. He was not 'shuffling.' "Dean, I do not understand. What is going on?"

"You zapped me."

"I did… what?"

"Zapped—it's like an electric shock. My mom used to say it was because I dragged my feet when I walked. You get all… static-y and when you touch someone it sort of… escapes." Dean looked away at Cas' confused look. "Alright, there's some science behind it but you'd have to ask Poindexter to explain the technical end of it. Point is, don't do it. It hurts."

The angel's face remained impassive, successfully concealing his nefarious plotting within.

Castiel discovered that he quite enjoyed the phenomenon of 'zapping'. Sam had kindly filled him in on the science end of it all, but what mattered most to Cas was that it was an excellent way of underhandedly driving Dean insane. Over the next few days Cas purposefully zapped Dean—only a few times, few enough to make it seem accidental but enough to annoy the hunter. Cas often observed Sam and Dean 'pranking' one another and it made him feel more human to participate in such revelry as well. And it was immensely enjoyable.

Dean became even more annoyed when the trio came across a supernatural baddie fond of electrocuting its victims. The hunter was hyperaware of electricity. It seemed that he was always getting shocked by something—Cas, Sam and any other conductive surface under the damn sun.

But Cas took pity on his poor hunter. While they were stalking the electrical creature he decided he wouldn't zap Dean. No, instead he would give the man a period of reprieve during which he would let his guard down. Then, when he least expected it, Castiel would strike. But for the moment, he would lie in wait.

The day had finally come. Cas had been itching to zap Dean all week. It was fun to annoy the man and Cas was fascinated by the bizarre sensation that accompanied shocking someone. Quiet as a mouse, so even Dean wouldn't hear him, Castiel crept up behind the hunter. The angel had spent all morning shuffling around in thick socks, building up the static electricity in preparation for the big moment. It was sure to be epic.

Dean sat on the motel bed, sharpening a knife to maim their latest beastie with. There was something innately calming about sharpening a knife. But when he felt the hairs at the base of his neck stand on end, he knew something was wrong. He felt a charge near his skin—electricity. The shock was a painful jolt and Dean knew he had to act fast. The creature must have followed them back to the motel. It was fast, but Dean was confident he was faster. He spun, knife held high and brought it down in a wide arc.

The knife sunk into Cas' neck with a solid, albeit wet, thunk.

Dean's heart lurched into his throat when he saw it was Cas he had stabbed—maimed… killed!—and not the creature they were hunting.

"Dean?" Cas gurgled.

"Fuck!"

Castiel sunk to his knees and wrapped a hand around the handle of the large Bowie knife. A gruesome geyser of blood was spurting from his neck in rhythmic waves. Dean felt as though he would be sick.

"Cas? Cas! Are you okay?"

The angel pulled the knife out and it made a sound horrid enough to churn even Dean's stomach. The hunter watched as Castiel put a hand over the wound and white light fluttered underneath his palm. He removed his hand and the grotesque knife wound was gone. The wound had disappeared but the image of Cas bleeding with a giant knife sticking out of his neck was forever seared into Dean's mind. He tackled Cas and gathered the angel up into a bone-crushing hug.

"Fuck, Cas. I'm so sorry."

"It is alright, Dean. I am fine."

Dean fixed him with a tired stare. "Oh, okay then. Excuse me while I go have a heart attack."

"I would warn against that. A heart attack would—"

"Jesus Cas, I wasn't serious. What were you thinking? Do you have a death wish or something?"

"I did not realize you were sharpening your knife."

Dean tried to laugh but failed miserably. His heart was still pounding in his chest.

"Perhaps it was not the best idea to shock you while we are hunting a creature fond of electrocution."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"I am not Sherlock."

"I know. Nevermind."

Castiel watched as Dean collapsed onto the bed and tried to calm down. The angel decided to quit zapping Dean.