Archangel!Jensen- Chapter 2
Title: The One That Leads Us Forth
Author: earth_heart
Chapter: 2
Rating: NC-17; this part PG-13
Pairing: Castiel/Jensen
Warnings: Jensen in the Supernatural world; collared!Jensen (eventually), dominant!aggressive!Castiel, submissive!Jensen, virgin!Jensen
Spoilers: Goes AU after 5.22
Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me. It belongs to Kripke and the CW/WB. I make no profit from this story.
AN: Many thanks to highermagic for helping me figure out wing-coloring/number of wings. Ilu, sweetheart~
Summary: For namikazekamui
Jensen gets thrown into the Supernatural world. That’s not even the craziest part of this whole thing.
------
When consciousness returned to Jensen, he opened his eyes and stared up into the blue eyes of a furious angel. Castiel was straddling his chest so he could pin him down to the ground. That wasn’t what caught Jensen’s attention, though.
Behind Castiel, flared out wide and raised in aggression, were wings. Three pairs of wings, actually.
“Don’t look at them.” Castiel snapped, forcing his head back so that he was looking directly at the angel again. “Look at me. Look at me while I tell you how stupid, and moronic, that stunt was. You just leveled an entire town. Do you even realize how much time and effort it will cause me to make it seem natural?”
“I didn’t-”
“Shut up when I’m talking to you. I don’t care what you did or didn’t think about anything. You are an angel now. Not only an angel, but an Archangel. If you get mad over something as stupid as Dean Winchester hurting your pride and your stupid little feelings, then you are going to destroy and smite. The anger and power of an Archangel is absolute, and you just threw a bitch-fit and killed thousands of innocents.”
Jensen froze in horror. Castiel’s blue eyes glowed, and beneath his skin his grace swirled and roiled, brighter now than it had been the first time Jensen had seen it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that if he wanted to get away he could, easily. The problem was just putting that thought to use.
Castiel’s hand closed around his throat, forcing his head back into the dirt. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If you can make an entire town turn into a flaming inferno over a bit of anger, what do you think you’re going to do to this forest if you try to get away from me?”
That made him blink. “We’re in a forest?”
“No, I decided to keep us in the crater you made into that town after sending Dean and Sam away to safety. You know, for posterity’s sake or something. Yes, you idiot, we are in a forest. We are not leaving this forest until you know how to control yourself better.”
“How do you expect me to do that?” Jensen challenged. Jesus, this Castiel was nothing like the one Misha played on the show. He was truly afraid of this Castiel, because he didn’t know him and he had no idea what he was capable of. “No, seriously, how do you expect me to do that? Thirty-one years of being human and then suddenly becoming an Archangel- which is just fucked up, let me tell you- is not something I expected to happen, y’know. From the sound of the message I was supposed to give you, it seems like we don’t really have time for a little teacher-student relationship.”
Castiel’s eyes blazed and he slammed his upper pair of wings down on either side of Jensen’s face. They were a steel-silver color, and when the primary feathers brushed over his face Jensen let out a surprised noise as they left tiny cuts behind. Those feathers were not soft, or gentle. They were metal-hard and had razor-like edges.
“You listen to me, boy,” he snarled, leaning down until their faces were only centimeters apart. “Right now, you have all of the abilities of one of God’s most powerful creatures, with all of the knowledge and idiocies of a fledgeling. If you lose control of your emotions again, how many more people will you kill? How many towns will you smite and level for the sake of your stupid pride? I don’t care how strong you are, or how stupid; I am older than you, and I know more than you do. So you will listen to me. Right now that includes not leaving this spot until I get back. Do you understand me?”
Wide-eyed and tense, Jensen could only nod. Castiel’s weight disappeared with the angel and he lay on the ground, staring up at the blue sky and biting his lip. He had killed thousands of innocent people- had leveled an entire town- because he’d gotten a little pissed off at Dean Winchester. This was beyond screwed up on so many levels that he didn’t even know where to begin with it.
The sound of wings cutting through the air made him look up. Castiel was standing near him, holding something in his hands. When he realized what it was he scrambled to his feet and backed away. “No.”
In a heartbeat Castiel was pinning him against a large oak. The force of their bodies hitting the trunk cracked it, and the entire tree shook.
“Yes,” he growled into Jensen’s ear, his rough voice sending shivers through the new angel. “It will help you until you better learn how to control yourself. Right now you are nothing better than a bomb of monumental proportions waiting to go off. When you have control, I will take it off again.”
Jensen struggled, but he didn’t try too hard to get away. He was too afraid of losing control and bringing the entire forest down. When the surprisingly-warm steel circled his neck he took a deep, shaky breath. The two ends came together at the top of his spine and clicked together, melding seamlessly.
Castiel’s breath washed hot over the skin just under his ear as the angel’s slender fingers checked over the collar. Jensen could hear it humming quietly; could feel sigils and runes moving across and in the metal. With a soft click it activated, and suddenly he felt like there was a wall between himself and most of his new powers.
It felt wrong, and he squirmed.
“Stop it.”
The angel’s voice was gentler now, and he cupped Jensen’s face and made him look into those blue eyes again. They shone with understanding, but that aggressiveness and annoyance was still there.
“I know it is uncomfortable, but you’re going to have to get used to it; just until you learn control. We can work on that later, but right now we don’t have the time. I said we weren’t leaving until you could control yourself better and this is as good as we’re going to get right now.”
Finally, Castiel stepped away from him and gave him space. Jensen shuddered at the cool air that washed over his skin now that the angel’s heat was gone. He looked at the ground as he pulled himself away from the tree. His shoulderblades itched.
“Show me your wings.”
Jensen promptly tripped over his feet and went tumbling. A white wing against his chest was the only thing that kept him from meeting the ground face-first. When he looked, he realized that Castiel had used one of his lowest pair of wings to catch him. The feathers were dove-white and so soft against his face that he jerked back reflexively and flushed.
“Um... what?”
“Your wings. You need to unfold them from your vessel so that you can fly.”
Jensen blinked and then turned to look back at his shoulders. They itched, but he could see no wings there. “I don’t see any wings.”
He heard Castiel huff. “That’s because, as I said, they are folded inside of your vessel, which in this case is apparently just your body. Do not unfold them all, just the central pair.”
“I... don’t know how to.” Hell, Jensen wasn’t sure he even wanted to. If he actually sprouted a pair of wings he didn’t think he’d be able to pretend this was all just some fucking... thing, anymore. It would be real.
“Close your eyes, Jensen.”
Shifting from foot to foot, he eyed Castiel. The angel was starting to look annoyed again, his wings twitching behind him. Jensen realized belatedly that the middle pair was a dark copper-brown color. They were really pretty, and caught the light in a way that made them glow.
“How is it that they don’t rip your clothes?”
Castiel growled. “Because they’re metaphysical. You can see them, and they feel real to you, but no one but another angel can see them. Stop stalling and close your eyes.”
Flushing at being found out, Jensen closed his eyes. “Sorry.”
“Take a deep breath and feel inside of you.”
“That sounds kind of dirty.”
“Sweet Father, you really are like Dean. Just shut up and do it.”
Jensen grinned. He couldn’t help it. However, he quickly sobered up and did as Castiel ordered, looking inside of himself- which was a lot harder than it sounded. Had he been human, he probably wouldn’t have been able to do it, but now that he was an angel it was easier.
“Concentrate, Jensen. When you find them you will know. Just give them a light tug and will them to unfold from within y-"
His senses brushed over something that felt like feathers, and Jensen latched on and pulled. There was a tearing sound, and he screamed in pain, and then the world went white.
When he came back to himself he was face-first on the ground, panting. There was a weight on his back that felt uncomfortable, so he shifted.
The weight shifted and fluttered with him, and feathers brushed over his forearms. He let out a yelp and tried to roll onto his back, but a quick flare of pain swiftly had him revising that statement. Jensen also realized that his back was cold.
“Of course. Of course you cannot even follow a simple command.” Castiel sounded furious, and hands were suddenly on his shoulders. “Get up. Get up and turn around so I can see what kind of damage you have done to yourself. Father above, I don’t know why I even try.”
Jensen slowly got to his feet, wincing at the painful twinge from his back, and turned around so that Castiel could see. Hot hands shoved right against his skin, and Jensen realized that he’d ripped his shirt when his wings had unfolded.
“You pulled too hard, that’s all. I thought you may have literally pulled them right out, or nearly so, but they’re fine. It will hurt for a little, because your wings are an extension of your grace, but it will heal eventually.”
Castiel took his hands away, and Jensen sighed in relief. At least he hadn’t managed to majorly screw up again. Fingers were suddenly stroking over his feathers and he yelped; jerked away and turned his back away from Castiel. The angel’s blue eyes were dark, and his grace swirled beneath his skin; shone brightly from him in a mixture of silver and blue and white.
“Uh... Castiel?”
“Your wings...” the angel rasped, taking a step forward. Jensen stepped back at once, flaring out his wings in an aggressive display before he knew what he was doing. They felt big, and when he glanced to the side, he realized that they were big. Much larger than Castiel’s own central pair.
“What’s wrong with them?” he asked warily. Aside from jerking them out too roughly, which just sounded way too wrong even in his head, they didn’t look bad enough to be causing that response from the other angel.
“The coloring is... unique.”
Craning his head around, Jensen looked at the coloring. The tops of the wing, along the arch-joint and down into the first several layers of feathers, was a silver-grey coloring. From there to where his primary feathers started was a light copper-brown color. Every single primary feather was pure white.
They looked awesome, he thought, and he turned to look at Castiel in confusion.
“What’s wrong with them?” he asked again. The look in Castiel’s eyes was really starting to make him nervous, and he tucked his wings tightly against his back to try and hide them. It was a futile effort, because the arches rose nearly a foot over his head and the primary feathers touched the ground. Still, it made Jensen feel better.
Castiel licked his lips once before turning away. “Nothing. The coloring is just unusual. Come, we should leave now that you can fly.”
“Um...”
The angel turned back to him and frowned. “What?”
Jensen shrugged. “Just because I have wings doesn’t mean I know how to fly, y’know? The only flying I’ve ever done before was in a plane.”
“Oh for- you know how to fly, Jensen. It’s part of being an angel. Don’t think, just do. You’ll understand what I mean soon. Now come with me. I need to go and converse with the Winchesters, and with that collar around your neck you can’t go anywhere else but where I am.”
The angel spread his wings wide, and Jensen copied him. Castiel’s central wings had to be at least twenty or more feet from wingtip to wingtip, but his own were much larger. He wondered if that was because Castiel used all six wings to fly while he only had two.
“Remember, Jensen. Follow me.”
Jensen nodded, and then suddenly Castiel was airborne. There was no flapping or rising, he was just shooting up into the sky. The collar around the new angel's throat gave a tug and flared, so Jensen jumped into the air and followed after him clumsily.
It was lucky the wings weren’t real, because he would have hit so many trees. He didn’t, though, and once he got over his crippling fear of having nothing between himself and falling to his death, he realized that he was flying along behind Castiel as if he’d been doing it all his life.
Huh. Some things just were instinctual, apparently.
Castiel looked over his shoulder at him; angled his white wings slightly so that he fell back until they were flying side-by-side. The angel laid one copper-brown wing across Jensen’s right wing, and the warmth of their feathers brushing together was almost sensual. Closing his eyes, Jensen took a deep breath. There was almost something possessive in the way the other angel’s wing stroked over his before Castiel pulled away.
It all happened in seconds, and then suddenly Castiel folded his wings tightly against his back and dropped down. Jensen hastened to follow, the wind whipping over his bare chest and tangling his hair. He grinned in delight.
Then they were landing in the living room of a very familiar place, and Jensen was turning and coming face-to-face with the real Bobby Singer and his shotgun. He yelped and backpedaled, his wings flailing behind him in a way that must have been comical. Castiel certainly seemed amused, but then all humor was gone as he stepped between them.
“I would not do that if I were you.”
“Who the hell is he?” Bobby demanded. God, he looked just like Jim. It was painful and awkward at the same time, because Jensen missed his friends horribly. From the way things were going, it didn’t seem like he would be getting back any time soon.
“His name is Jensen. He is God’s newest Archangel.”
“Why the hell does he look like Dean, then?”
“He is apparently from an alternate realty where we are part of a television show. He called us all by different names when he first arrived.”
Bobby arched an eyebrow, but seemed to accept that. He lowered his shotgun, and Jensen breathed a sigh of relief. Getting shot was never high on his list of things to have happen to him, and he was wary of how he’d match up to a shotgun in the hands of Robert Singer.
Castiel shielded him with a wing that only Jensen could see. “How are Dean and Sam?”
“Dean’s fine. Sam... not so much.”
Author: earth_heart
Chapter: 2
Rating: NC-17; this part PG-13
Pairing: Castiel/Jensen
Warnings: Jensen in the Supernatural world; collared!Jensen (eventually), dominant!aggressive!Castiel, submissive!Jensen, virgin!Jensen
Spoilers: Goes AU after 5.22
Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me. It belongs to Kripke and the CW/WB. I make no profit from this story.
AN: Many thanks to highermagic for helping me figure out wing-coloring/number of wings. Ilu, sweetheart~
Summary: For namikazekamui
Jensen gets thrown into the Supernatural world. That’s not even the craziest part of this whole thing.
------
When consciousness returned to Jensen, he opened his eyes and stared up into the blue eyes of a furious angel. Castiel was straddling his chest so he could pin him down to the ground. That wasn’t what caught Jensen’s attention, though.
Behind Castiel, flared out wide and raised in aggression, were wings. Three pairs of wings, actually.
“Don’t look at them.” Castiel snapped, forcing his head back so that he was looking directly at the angel again. “Look at me. Look at me while I tell you how stupid, and moronic, that stunt was. You just leveled an entire town. Do you even realize how much time and effort it will cause me to make it seem natural?”
“I didn’t-”
“Shut up when I’m talking to you. I don’t care what you did or didn’t think about anything. You are an angel now. Not only an angel, but an Archangel. If you get mad over something as stupid as Dean Winchester hurting your pride and your stupid little feelings, then you are going to destroy and smite. The anger and power of an Archangel is absolute, and you just threw a bitch-fit and killed thousands of innocents.”
Jensen froze in horror. Castiel’s blue eyes glowed, and beneath his skin his grace swirled and roiled, brighter now than it had been the first time Jensen had seen it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that if he wanted to get away he could, easily. The problem was just putting that thought to use.
Castiel’s hand closed around his throat, forcing his head back into the dirt. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If you can make an entire town turn into a flaming inferno over a bit of anger, what do you think you’re going to do to this forest if you try to get away from me?”
That made him blink. “We’re in a forest?”
“No, I decided to keep us in the crater you made into that town after sending Dean and Sam away to safety. You know, for posterity’s sake or something. Yes, you idiot, we are in a forest. We are not leaving this forest until you know how to control yourself better.”
“How do you expect me to do that?” Jensen challenged. Jesus, this Castiel was nothing like the one Misha played on the show. He was truly afraid of this Castiel, because he didn’t know him and he had no idea what he was capable of. “No, seriously, how do you expect me to do that? Thirty-one years of being human and then suddenly becoming an Archangel- which is just fucked up, let me tell you- is not something I expected to happen, y’know. From the sound of the message I was supposed to give you, it seems like we don’t really have time for a little teacher-student relationship.”
Castiel’s eyes blazed and he slammed his upper pair of wings down on either side of Jensen’s face. They were a steel-silver color, and when the primary feathers brushed over his face Jensen let out a surprised noise as they left tiny cuts behind. Those feathers were not soft, or gentle. They were metal-hard and had razor-like edges.
“You listen to me, boy,” he snarled, leaning down until their faces were only centimeters apart. “Right now, you have all of the abilities of one of God’s most powerful creatures, with all of the knowledge and idiocies of a fledgeling. If you lose control of your emotions again, how many more people will you kill? How many towns will you smite and level for the sake of your stupid pride? I don’t care how strong you are, or how stupid; I am older than you, and I know more than you do. So you will listen to me. Right now that includes not leaving this spot until I get back. Do you understand me?”
Wide-eyed and tense, Jensen could only nod. Castiel’s weight disappeared with the angel and he lay on the ground, staring up at the blue sky and biting his lip. He had killed thousands of innocent people- had leveled an entire town- because he’d gotten a little pissed off at Dean Winchester. This was beyond screwed up on so many levels that he didn’t even know where to begin with it.
The sound of wings cutting through the air made him look up. Castiel was standing near him, holding something in his hands. When he realized what it was he scrambled to his feet and backed away. “No.”
In a heartbeat Castiel was pinning him against a large oak. The force of their bodies hitting the trunk cracked it, and the entire tree shook.
“Yes,” he growled into Jensen’s ear, his rough voice sending shivers through the new angel. “It will help you until you better learn how to control yourself. Right now you are nothing better than a bomb of monumental proportions waiting to go off. When you have control, I will take it off again.”
Jensen struggled, but he didn’t try too hard to get away. He was too afraid of losing control and bringing the entire forest down. When the surprisingly-warm steel circled his neck he took a deep, shaky breath. The two ends came together at the top of his spine and clicked together, melding seamlessly.
Castiel’s breath washed hot over the skin just under his ear as the angel’s slender fingers checked over the collar. Jensen could hear it humming quietly; could feel sigils and runes moving across and in the metal. With a soft click it activated, and suddenly he felt like there was a wall between himself and most of his new powers.
It felt wrong, and he squirmed.
“Stop it.”
The angel’s voice was gentler now, and he cupped Jensen’s face and made him look into those blue eyes again. They shone with understanding, but that aggressiveness and annoyance was still there.
“I know it is uncomfortable, but you’re going to have to get used to it; just until you learn control. We can work on that later, but right now we don’t have the time. I said we weren’t leaving until you could control yourself better and this is as good as we’re going to get right now.”
Finally, Castiel stepped away from him and gave him space. Jensen shuddered at the cool air that washed over his skin now that the angel’s heat was gone. He looked at the ground as he pulled himself away from the tree. His shoulderblades itched.
“Show me your wings.”
Jensen promptly tripped over his feet and went tumbling. A white wing against his chest was the only thing that kept him from meeting the ground face-first. When he looked, he realized that Castiel had used one of his lowest pair of wings to catch him. The feathers were dove-white and so soft against his face that he jerked back reflexively and flushed.
“Um... what?”
“Your wings. You need to unfold them from your vessel so that you can fly.”
Jensen blinked and then turned to look back at his shoulders. They itched, but he could see no wings there. “I don’t see any wings.”
He heard Castiel huff. “That’s because, as I said, they are folded inside of your vessel, which in this case is apparently just your body. Do not unfold them all, just the central pair.”
“I... don’t know how to.” Hell, Jensen wasn’t sure he even wanted to. If he actually sprouted a pair of wings he didn’t think he’d be able to pretend this was all just some fucking... thing, anymore. It would be real.
“Close your eyes, Jensen.”
Shifting from foot to foot, he eyed Castiel. The angel was starting to look annoyed again, his wings twitching behind him. Jensen realized belatedly that the middle pair was a dark copper-brown color. They were really pretty, and caught the light in a way that made them glow.
“How is it that they don’t rip your clothes?”
Castiel growled. “Because they’re metaphysical. You can see them, and they feel real to you, but no one but another angel can see them. Stop stalling and close your eyes.”
Flushing at being found out, Jensen closed his eyes. “Sorry.”
“Take a deep breath and feel inside of you.”
“That sounds kind of dirty.”
“Sweet Father, you really are like Dean. Just shut up and do it.”
Jensen grinned. He couldn’t help it. However, he quickly sobered up and did as Castiel ordered, looking inside of himself- which was a lot harder than it sounded. Had he been human, he probably wouldn’t have been able to do it, but now that he was an angel it was easier.
“Concentrate, Jensen. When you find them you will know. Just give them a light tug and will them to unfold from within y-"
His senses brushed over something that felt like feathers, and Jensen latched on and pulled. There was a tearing sound, and he screamed in pain, and then the world went white.
When he came back to himself he was face-first on the ground, panting. There was a weight on his back that felt uncomfortable, so he shifted.
The weight shifted and fluttered with him, and feathers brushed over his forearms. He let out a yelp and tried to roll onto his back, but a quick flare of pain swiftly had him revising that statement. Jensen also realized that his back was cold.
“Of course. Of course you cannot even follow a simple command.” Castiel sounded furious, and hands were suddenly on his shoulders. “Get up. Get up and turn around so I can see what kind of damage you have done to yourself. Father above, I don’t know why I even try.”
Jensen slowly got to his feet, wincing at the painful twinge from his back, and turned around so that Castiel could see. Hot hands shoved right against his skin, and Jensen realized that he’d ripped his shirt when his wings had unfolded.
“You pulled too hard, that’s all. I thought you may have literally pulled them right out, or nearly so, but they’re fine. It will hurt for a little, because your wings are an extension of your grace, but it will heal eventually.”
Castiel took his hands away, and Jensen sighed in relief. At least he hadn’t managed to majorly screw up again. Fingers were suddenly stroking over his feathers and he yelped; jerked away and turned his back away from Castiel. The angel’s blue eyes were dark, and his grace swirled beneath his skin; shone brightly from him in a mixture of silver and blue and white.
“Uh... Castiel?”
“Your wings...” the angel rasped, taking a step forward. Jensen stepped back at once, flaring out his wings in an aggressive display before he knew what he was doing. They felt big, and when he glanced to the side, he realized that they were big. Much larger than Castiel’s own central pair.
“What’s wrong with them?” he asked warily. Aside from jerking them out too roughly, which just sounded way too wrong even in his head, they didn’t look bad enough to be causing that response from the other angel.
“The coloring is... unique.”
Craning his head around, Jensen looked at the coloring. The tops of the wing, along the arch-joint and down into the first several layers of feathers, was a silver-grey coloring. From there to where his primary feathers started was a light copper-brown color. Every single primary feather was pure white.
They looked awesome, he thought, and he turned to look at Castiel in confusion.
“What’s wrong with them?” he asked again. The look in Castiel’s eyes was really starting to make him nervous, and he tucked his wings tightly against his back to try and hide them. It was a futile effort, because the arches rose nearly a foot over his head and the primary feathers touched the ground. Still, it made Jensen feel better.
Castiel licked his lips once before turning away. “Nothing. The coloring is just unusual. Come, we should leave now that you can fly.”
“Um...”
The angel turned back to him and frowned. “What?”
Jensen shrugged. “Just because I have wings doesn’t mean I know how to fly, y’know? The only flying I’ve ever done before was in a plane.”
“Oh for- you know how to fly, Jensen. It’s part of being an angel. Don’t think, just do. You’ll understand what I mean soon. Now come with me. I need to go and converse with the Winchesters, and with that collar around your neck you can’t go anywhere else but where I am.”
The angel spread his wings wide, and Jensen copied him. Castiel’s central wings had to be at least twenty or more feet from wingtip to wingtip, but his own were much larger. He wondered if that was because Castiel used all six wings to fly while he only had two.
“Remember, Jensen. Follow me.”
Jensen nodded, and then suddenly Castiel was airborne. There was no flapping or rising, he was just shooting up into the sky. The collar around the new angel's throat gave a tug and flared, so Jensen jumped into the air and followed after him clumsily.
It was lucky the wings weren’t real, because he would have hit so many trees. He didn’t, though, and once he got over his crippling fear of having nothing between himself and falling to his death, he realized that he was flying along behind Castiel as if he’d been doing it all his life.
Huh. Some things just were instinctual, apparently.
Castiel looked over his shoulder at him; angled his white wings slightly so that he fell back until they were flying side-by-side. The angel laid one copper-brown wing across Jensen’s right wing, and the warmth of their feathers brushing together was almost sensual. Closing his eyes, Jensen took a deep breath. There was almost something possessive in the way the other angel’s wing stroked over his before Castiel pulled away.
It all happened in seconds, and then suddenly Castiel folded his wings tightly against his back and dropped down. Jensen hastened to follow, the wind whipping over his bare chest and tangling his hair. He grinned in delight.
Then they were landing in the living room of a very familiar place, and Jensen was turning and coming face-to-face with the real Bobby Singer and his shotgun. He yelped and backpedaled, his wings flailing behind him in a way that must have been comical. Castiel certainly seemed amused, but then all humor was gone as he stepped between them.
“I would not do that if I were you.”
“Who the hell is he?” Bobby demanded. God, he looked just like Jim. It was painful and awkward at the same time, because Jensen missed his friends horribly. From the way things were going, it didn’t seem like he would be getting back any time soon.
“His name is Jensen. He is God’s newest Archangel.”
“Why the hell does he look like Dean, then?”
“He is apparently from an alternate realty where we are part of a television show. He called us all by different names when he first arrived.”
Bobby arched an eyebrow, but seemed to accept that. He lowered his shotgun, and Jensen breathed a sigh of relief. Getting shot was never high on his list of things to have happen to him, and he was wary of how he’d match up to a shotgun in the hands of Robert Singer.
Castiel shielded him with a wing that only Jensen could see. “How are Dean and Sam?”
“Dean’s fine. Sam... not so much.”