Raise the Shot Glasses and Drop the Shotguns
Dean tensed at the sound of wings. There was only one thing he could think that would bother to visit him, especially now. "Hello, Castiel," he spat, not even turning around to face the angel turned God. "What do you want today? Trying to get me to plead for your forgiveness again? Or maybe this time you've come to smite me? Threaten to throw me back to the hellhounds?" Far too many questions, and no answers at all. Dean was always at a loss when faced with Castiel because he never knew what the other wanted anymore.






