The nightmare he was caught in must have been unpleasant to say the least. Left to see it through to its horrifying end made him shift, his feet kicking feebly against the ground as if he wanted to run, and his entire body tensed as if fighting against unseen hands. In his mind's eye, there was screaming, there was boiling water and thrashing and his voice became hoarse before his corporations lungs ran out of the air needed to cry out his pain. And still, he tried to scream, even after he'd stopped being able to make a sound or draw in another breath.

Outwardly, it probably seemed much less then it felt. He gasped for breath for a few moments, tears rolling down his face, before he gave one single, frail cry and was awake in a searing flash. It left him dazed, every muscle in his body aching as he collapsed in a heap like a puppet cut from its strings, and he didn't seem to realize that he wasn't alone before the sound of the voice broke through the haze of his mind catching up with reality.

He turned a bleary look to the other, confusion on his face, but then he felt it; the unmistakable feeling of divinity that could only come from another angel, and he froze.

What had he said? What had he heard? Who was this angel and who did he answer to? He didn't recognize him from Heaven, but if he knew of Crowley, then he must have been somehow associated with Gabriel and Michael and the others. The horror the dream had brought him stopped waning and threatened to come roaring back to life, but he did his best to keep his composure.

"I-...I'm not sure what you mean."