"Your orders are very clear, Castiel." Megatron states, his face holding about as much emotion as a stone.
"Then why haven't you spoken to the Winchesters?" Now his voice was beginning to raise.
"They have no idea what goes on here. Or anywhere, really. Dean and Sam Winchester need to know about angels before meeting one." Castiel knew that if the boys were exposed to anything like himself, they wouldn't be able to handle it.
"I. Don't. Care. They're the only one's who can help. Now go!"
With a sigh, he disappeared.
Dean awoke with a start, his radio blasting. He groans, slapping it. He looks around for Sammy, seeing an empty bed beside him. Now worried, he quickly gets to his feet, knocking on the bathroom door.
"Sammy? Sammy, you in there?"
When he got no response, he threw on his jeans, leaving his t-shirt as it was. He rushed to the nightstand to grab his keys, when he sees the note Sam had left. He reads it, rolling his eyes. He sighs, setting the note back down. All that worrying for nothing.
"Dammit, Sam." Still, he was relieved.
He showered, dressing in fresher clothes. He styled his hair, checking out how he looked in the mirror. He walks out of the bathroom, humming Metallica to himself. Suddenly, he runs into someone. He looks up, seeing the Trench coat man.
"Woah! What the hell-?" He draws his gun, aiming it directly at the figure.
The man doesn't react.
"Put the gun down, Dean. It won't help you."
"How do you know my name?"
"There's no time for that. We have to go, now."
"Who are you?" He cocks the gun, his heart racing inside of his chest.
"My name is Castiel. I'm an angel of the lord."
"You're what?" Dean squinted his eyes tilting his head. Castiel tilted his head, confused as well. Humans had to at least know something about angels, right?
"An angel of the lord." The second time he said it, on the wall behind him, appeared giant, black, majestic wings.
Dean stumbled back, looking at the wall in awe. It was like none other thing he had ever seen. There was no special effect. There was no illusion at work. There was something weird going on, something... unnatural. He lowered his guns, feeling weak.
"We have to go." It took Dean a few moments to reply.
"There's no time to explain, I need you to come with me."
"No way, tell me whe-"
Suddenly, Castiel laid his hand on Dean's forehead. Without warning, they were whisking through space, or the heavens, or wherever they were. They landed, now in New York city. Dean stumbled, crashing into a telephone pole. He shook his head, trying to bring himself back to reality.
"What on Earth are we?!" He bellows, looking around for the Trench coat man.
"We're in New York, Dean. See that building?" He gestures to one of the larger, several story building. "There's a ghost on the tenth floor. You need to take care of it."
"What? What in the hell are you possibly talking about?"
Of course, what Dean didn't know, was that this was a test. Yes, there was a ghost up there, but Castiel could have easily taken care of it with a tap. They needed to know if there was something inside Dean. Like a natural instinct to fight.
After several minutes or arguing, Dean finally agreed.
"Here, these are your weapons." Dean was handed a small shotgun, which he was happy about. Also, there was a crowbar.
"How will these help me with a ghost?" The sentence made him want to throw up. He sounded like an idiot.
"The gun, is loaded with rock salt. That repels ghosts. Also, iron repels them. That's all you need. Good luck."
Dean glances up at the building, then back to where Castiel was. Keyword: Was. He had disappeared. With a roll of his eyes, Dean headed up to the tenth floor of the building.
(A/N: So sorry for the delay, and how short this is. I'll get better. I promise.)