The force of it is almost enough to knock me back, that black cloud of crackling energy rushing up toward the ceiling, so close that I can practically feel it. But I keep my hold on him, refusing to let go, eyes wide as I watch it pour out of him.

Then it's quiet.

It's the look on Mike's face that has me moving, my hand creeping up toward Dean's throat.

"Cas," I say, my voice hoarse and hardly sounding like my own. "Cas, he's not breathing."