[The fire races along the arcs of the circle before joining and flaring up, bright and burning, higher than the flames should physically reach if the fire weren't of supernatural origin.

Castiel sends Dean a pitying look.]

I'm not an angel anymore, Dean. [He lifts a foot and steps easily through the fire, as if it were just a curtain, a veil of sheer cloth. He reaches for Dean again and the second his fingertips brush against the cloth of Dean's jacket they're both standing on a spot of land barely large enough for two people. The rain lashes against them both, sky dark and stormy; on all sides is a sheer drop of over a hundred feet that ends in sharp, jagged rock.

Castiel steps away. He speaks in a normal tone of voice, but is still somehow heard about the squall as the elements silence themselves for him.]

You will reflect on your sins and pray for my forgiveness here, Dean. I will arrive and absolve you when I believe you finally understand.