Sam hadn't expected Raphael. Honestly, he had never once actually come across Raphael when expecting him anyway, he was like the Spanish Inquisition. The vaguely British Archangel. Sam snorted, realised he had to be more drowsy than he'd realised and tried to shake himself out of it. He tried to tug his wrist free and looked at Raphael. Was he hallucinating?

"Are you actually here? Because that's got to be the worst fucking joke ever." He reached out and tried to touch Raphael, to figure out whether he could trust his senses here. Somehow wouldn't be the first archangel he'd hallucinated, even if the other one had been a fallen one. "I saw you die."