Dean spends too much time watching Balthazar reach in and flinching; he doesn't get time to tell him that they could seriously just jog. How long was that going to take? Freaking angels. The more he's been zapped around like this, the better his body seems to take it, but it still sucks. He shoots Balthazar a look, almost rolling his eyes, but they have bigger fish to fry than angelic impatience.

Quickly, he looks around and -- alright so he's biased, but he checks the diner first. One piece. Whew. He put a lot of work into that, okay. And Dean just likes to put feelings into inanimate objects.

"There," he says, pointing at what used to be the store. "Looks like a mess to me. Is anyone in there? Can you tell?"