>"Why do you think Castiel saved you from Hell? He didn't do it because he was bored, Dean. We told him to do it, because God commanded it. He wants you to stop the Apocalypse. He wants you to help save the world."
Honestly, he still wasn’t sure why Castiel had saved him. Apparently this angel guy thought it was for some greater purpose, but... but that still didn’t make sense, because Dean wasn’t exactly the kind of person Heaven should have any interest in. It would have made more sense for them to just leave him where he was. He was glad they hadn’t, sure, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t made a mistake, pulling him out.
The smile offered his way made Dean’s skin crawl. It wasn’t genuine, it wasn’t real, and it wasn’t right. Dean didn’t know what it reminded him of, but whatever it was wasn’t good. There was a moment where he could have sworn what he was seeing wasn’t really Zachariah - it was Alistair, I’m disappointed, Dean, and the fake smile on his face while he was finding new and creative ways to make Dean break, and his fingers curled tight around the steering wheel.
>"You're what we call a Michael's sword. Well, actually, the Michael's sword. You're the only one out there right now and we need you before Lucifer gets his hands on his. Because when he does? He'll be more powerful than you can imagine."
Instinct took the mention of a blade and if his skin hadn’t been crawling before, it was now. Last time someone had spoken to him about becoming and about blades had been in Hell, and the sound of Alistair’s voice in his memory...
...this wasn’t Alistair, though, but that didn’t make him any less uneasy, didn’t make it easier to choke back the panic that came with the memories he was recalling.
“I’m not.... a sword, I’m not.... I don't anything to do with this. You’re wrong.”
...yeah, it probably wasn’t the best idea ever to be denying what an angel was saying to him, but Dean had never been one for having the best ideas ever, so. Whatever.