“Dude,” Dean hisses.
“Why are we in a closet?” Cas asks, brow furrowed, as near as he can tell in the dim light coming through the closet doors.
“I am in a closet because I’m hiding from a vampire,” he snaps in a whisper. “I dunno why the fuck you’re here.”
“I’m here because you’re here.” Cas looks around. “This man owns far too many ties.”
“He’s in business. It’s a prerequisite.” Dean is, for a second, grateful that it’s Cas who’s in here and not Sam, because Sam would have busted his balls for busting out a four dollar word like prerequisite. “Cas-“
“Where’s Sam?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere in the house. Cas-“
“Dean.” Cas takes a few steps forwards. “It is imperative-“
“Cas,” Dean says. “I’m on a hunt.”
“The fate of all mankind is far more pressing, don’t you think?”
“Easy for you to say, I’m the one with his ass on the line with Edward Cullen out there.”
Cas squints. “I don’t understand that reference.”
Dean huffs and glowers at Cas. Cas takes another couple steps, so close that Dean could count each individual eyelash, if he was so inclined.
Not that he is so inclined.
“Do angels have any concept of personal space?” He asks, trying to distract himself from the funny way the dim light strikes Cas’ very blue eyes.
“Not particularly.”
“You should learn.”
Cas squints again, nose scrunching a little. “Is your plan to survive the apocalypse in this closet?”
Dean scowls. “Alright, you know what, you can kiss my-“
The doors fly open and the vampire lunges. Dean lets out what he’d deny was a yelp, scrambling for a weapon.
Cas reaches out, grabs the top of the vampire’s hair, and yanks his head off his body.
Dean stares, first at the corpse on the ground and then at the head dangling from Cas’ fingers.
“Dude,” he says again, a little awed in spite of himself.
“We have business to discuss,” Cas says. “Find Sam.”
Speak of the Devil (poor choice of words, maybe), Sam comes skittering in. He gapes at the body of the vampire and then at the head.
“Oh. Hey, Cas.”
“Hello, Sam.” Cas drops the head. “We should go. I have things to discuss with you.”
Cas sweeps out of the bedroom. Sam looks at Dean.
“Did Cas rip the head off that guy?” He whispers.
“Yes. Yes he did.”
“Huh.” Sam shakes his head. “Fucked up.”
“I dunno,” Dean mumbles as they go to follow Cas out of the house. “Pretty cool, I thought.”