Were he any other person, any other angel, Balthazar might have jumped at the sudden outburst of movement. He had never really seen Gabriel that mad (actually, "seeing" was relative; he had never experience Gabriel this mad), but for him, it was only shocking in a very minor way. In fact, the only reaction the cursing and gestures got out of Balthazar was a raising of his eyebrows. Gabriel's display was about the same thing the blond had done, but with less drama and more internal panic.

"Anyway," Balthazar began again, tension now in his voice as his expression closed off; almost became too neutral. He really loathed to talk about Castiel at the moment, Gabriel's words rubbing at that sore spot in him (okay, more like an open wound). He half-wished that his younger brother would come here, just so he could get all of his frustration and anger out, but the other half could really care less if he saw that back-stabber (har, har) again. "There's no use getting worked up over it. We're here: far, far away from that battlefield."