Thunder crashed overhead like bombs, and lightning lit up the rain that slammed against the windows. The howling of the wind masked another sound: the beating of wings.

Castiel looked around the barn in horror. What could be this powerful? The strongest demon he knew didn't even come close. He held his dirty coat close to himself, desparately seeking warmth.

To Cas's dismay, the barn doors were forced open, nearly falling off their rusted hinges. He stumbled backward, sheilding his eyes from the bright light pouring in from outside. Though he hated to admit it, he was terrified.

Then, as quickly as the light appeared, it faded. The creature left standing there was nothing like what Cas expected. For one, well, it wasn't a creature- as far as he knew. It could have been a shifter or a demon, but it didn't flinch when Castiel got out his holy water and silver blade.

The man- Cas supposed he could call him that- was, to put it simply, beautiful. His ruddy skin was dappled with freckles and his light, tawny hair was perfectly cut. But as the man's green gaze bore into him, Cas was filled with a strange feeling of unease.

"W-who are you...?" he asked falteringly, voice barely audible above the noise from the storm. The man looked over at him, ever silent, but as Castiel watched, something seemed to unfold from his shoulders. Cas gazed up in amazement as long, feathery wings emerfed from the man's back. He took a step backward in confusion. "What are you?" he uttered, tightening his grip on the dagger.

The creature took a step forward to match Castiel's actions and looked him straight in the eye. "I am Dean," he dictated, "And I am an angel of the Lord."