"Only against creatures like demons. All I had to do was turn up the halo, so to speak. And being furious helped.

It's not a matter of how... If I can't do this and not feel bad about it, what difference does method make?

Don't lie to me anyway. When Crowley wanted to, when I wasn't using my aura, he just picked me up and pinned me down. Easy as anything. And he's not even as big as you are. I can't beat the 'shit out of anything' that I can't affect with my aura. Including the Horsemen. Including you."

By then he was crying, feeling confused and felt reminded of his body, useless under Crowley's weight and his ineffectual struggling. He felt small, especially given that most in the mansion were at least half a foot to a foot taller than he was. The gun shone under the lights of the room and he felt dizzy for a moment.

"If being an archangel was all I needed to get respect then Crowley wouldn't have called me weak to begin with. If you really worried about me beating you, you wouldn't have attacked me. Nobody until now has been afraid of me at all - and if I lower the gun, nothing will have changed.

You showed me no respect until I pointed this at you - how can you expect me to believe you when you say that I don't need it?"