Australia.

It was on other side of the fucking planet. About as far away as they could have brought him from home before they started circling around the other side of the globe, but then again, that was the idea. The "safe" house was in the middle of nowhere. Isolated. Far away from any innocent civilians that might get caught in the crossfire. Dean had insisted upon that. It was warded and shielded and protected in a near infinite number of ways, sure to keep him hidden from Cain or any number of demons that might be looking for him. It was about as safe as he could be while still on the planet.

It had to look real, after all. It had to look like they were trying to hide him from Cain.

Dean had a headache from trying to keep the things he was "supposed" to be thinking to the forefront of his mind and trying to block everything else. It was pretty much a given that Cain could probably read his mind since he could invade Dean's dreams. He had to make sure that the bastard only got to read what he was supposed to. That the angels were trying to hide him away quietly, where he would be safe and at their disposal in case he was needed to "see" what they couldn't. In the middle of nowhere, under the guard of only a few angels, on his way to a safe house that would take an equivalent of a nuclear demonic explosion to get to him.

But he hadn't gotten there yet... a perfect opportunity if Cain chose to get to him. Probably the only opportunity he would have. Too good to pass up.

He'd spent more than an hour with Sam and Michael making sure that everything Cain needed to know was there for him to see and everything else was hidden. Samuel wasn't the best judge of that if only because Dean had too much experience blocking things from Sam. Blocking them from other angels, fallen angels, demons, whatever, that was a different matter.

When they were finally satisfied that he was ready Dean hugged Sam tightly one last time, not giving a flying fuck really who was watching. Whispering one last time how much he loved him. He wanted to kiss Sam, but he didn't want to make things worse for the angel, after, and there would be an after. He promised Sam that. He was going to live through this.

Though as Dean landed with his angel "guards" not far away from the safe house, he couldn't help but feel naked and exposed. He was only wearing his Kevlar vest underneath his shirt and jacket. He didn't have any weapons because none of them would have worked on Cain anyway and he didn't need anything weighing him down when it was time for him to get the hell out of the line of fire. That didn't mean he didn't feel vulnerable as hell without them, even with three fierce looking warrior angels flanking him as they made their way to the safe house.

Sam was there, Dean reminded himself. Samuel would never let anything happen to him, even if Dean doubted his guards a little despite Michael's reassurances last night. He'd seen the way they looked at him, after all. Dean had to resist the urge to reach out to Samuel over their bond for reassurance. He couldn't do anything to give away the other angels waiting to spring the trap. Once the bait was in place...

Before they’d headed off on their mission, Dean had made his final act of rebellion, throwing his arms around him and hugging him tight. Samuel was aware of the heavy stares, even if his ward was not. However, his own arms tightened around Dean, and he proclaimed his love again, and asked him one more time to ‘live for me.’ He meant through not only this attempt to trap Cain, but also what would come after, but he didn’t tell him that. His ward… his lover had enough on his mind. Flashing him a mental image of kissing him, he pulled away and slapped him on the back.

* * *

Once they reached the continent island, Samuel pushed everything out of his mind and heart… all emotion, all worry, all doubt. He was all angel now, hard, determined, single minded… every semblance of humanity was gone from his countenance. He fell in, next to Michael, because he trusted him, and next to Gabriel, because he had to. Bowing his head for a few moments, as did the other angels in teams of three, strategically located and shrouded from view, he prayed for their success and for the survival of the human, Dean Winchester.

Then they shadowed Dean and the two angels taking him to the safe house. Samuel flooded their link with warmth, making sure Dean knew he was there. They’d agreed he would leave the link open so that if Cain’s probing became too invasive, Sam could implant false thoughts… assisting Dean in being convincing about what was taking place.

He felt Gabriel’s stare, and refused to look at him. The angel could not know what communications were taking place between himself and Dean, but his imagination might be on overdrive. At this point, he didn’t care. He was focused solely on Dean… that was all that mattered.

The warmth that flooded over their link from Samuel was more than welcome to Dean, helping distracting from the pounding headache he was having that only seemed to grow worse with every step he took. They were almost to the safe house. Still nothing. They had counted on not giving Cain enough time to really assess the situation. Being forced to move quickly enough that he might become careless. If he reached the safe house before anything happened the whole plan was pretty much a bust. If Cain didn’t come for him, didn’t want him, it would all be for nothing...

They could have just stayed at home, having never gone to Gabriel’s in the first place. They never would have been caught. He could be at home, right now, wrapped up in Samuel’s arms, not about to lose him forever...

Dean knew he shouldn’t be thinking about those things but he couldn’t really help himself. This mission had become more than just the “right” thing to do for him. It had become personal. It had to work. It might be the only leverage he had...

Dean suddenly stopped walking. It wasn’t a conscious decision on his part, he just stopped... The angels turned to look at him. Impatience or annoyance flashing across one of their faces, the other simply looked curious and watchful of their surroundings.

He tried to shake his head, it was nothing, he tried to start walking again, and he couldn’t. He couldn’t. He was trying to move but his body felt paralyzed. He couldn’t even open his mouth to speak, to tell them something was wrong. Maybe he shouldn’t have been trying to ignore the headache he’d been feeling because now that he focused on it he felt more than just pain. He felt cold... a slow creeping cold like ice flowing through all the nerves of his body, freezing him in place.

He’s here! Dean barely managed to get to Samuel before he was silenced in that way too. Dean couldn’t even warn the angel’s guarding him when he saw their death approaching from behind them, seemingly out of nowhere.

Cain...

The words in Samuels mind were faint, but crystal clear. He looked out, through Dean’s eyes, and saw nothing. The angels with him appeared to be unaware, or were they doing a great job of acting? Then he saw one of them was frowning and ordering Dean to keep moving. That was when he sensed Dean’s paralysis... like something had taken his body over.

“Cain...” the word was like the crack of a whip. “Tell the others, they don’t know.” Instead of communicating with the guarding angels, he more firmly entrenched his mind inside Dean’s, resisting the urge to reassure him now when Cain might sense it.

“They see nothing,” Michael whispered harshly, searching the horizon. “They say Dean is acting strange. Maybe we should...”

“Everyone will hold their positions,” Gabriel hissed. “Until we see Cain, no one is to move.”

Sorting through the fear and anger flooding Dean, Sam found new emotions... cold as ice and steel, dark as taint. His head jerked up. “Cain is trying to steal his body. We must go, now.”

Without waiting for Gabriel’s agreement, Samuel spread his wings wide and shot through the sky.

Michael and Gabriel followed, one of them bringing the others up to speed, the other giving orders as to what they should look for. Gabriel opined Samuel was wrong because it made no sense that Cain would discard his own strong body for the hunter’s weak one. Of course the body he took over would automatically be infused with strength, but it would take decades for it to get as strong as his original shell.

One of the angels with Dean started to push him toward the safe house, while the other looked into his eyes, searching or signs of any darkness.

Samuel reinforced the thoughts that they’d agreed would be at the forefront of Dean’s mind. There was no room for error, Cain had to believe... had to.

More of Dean’s thoughts filtered into Samuel’s mind. He’d misinterpreted, made a mistake...”Behind... he says they’re behind them.”

Miles away, the ground behind the angels and Dean erupted into flames traveling with the speed and height of a large tidal wave toward them.

When one of the angels grabbed his arm, trying to pull him towards the safe house, Dean felt himself smile. But even such a simple action felt foreign and wrong on his face, because the smile was cold, twisted, and evil. He felt more of himself slipping away by the instant in the freezing bitter cold that was filling him. He tried to resist it, to throw the foreign presence out of his mind like, but there was nothing he could do. It was like trying to stop an avalanche with nothing but his bare hands.

He had thought that Cain would want him dead. He never would have thought that Cain would simply want him.

Dean jerked his arm out of the angel's grip, he felt it wrench painfully in the process but he couldn't even voice that pain. Then Dean saw the wall of flames coming right towards them. Something he couldn't have run away from even if he was able to now, which he wasn't.

Instead he raised his hands, holding them outwards as he felt something building inside of him. Something burning hot and swelling exponentially.

He'd felt it before. Though each time had only been briefly and he hadn't been consciously doing it at the time. When he'd made the door shut without touching it. When he'd broken the mirror in his room by only looking at it.

This was a thousand times more powerful however, Dean wasn't controlling it, Cain was. And when the power exploded from him it was like a bomb going off. It knocked his angel guards away from him like they were nothing but annoying flies. The shockwave expanded, and Dean watched in horrifying amazement as the safe house, even with all its protections, began to implode on itself like a crumbling house of cards.

Dean laughed, standing unflinching as the wall of fire came towards him. Not him, Cain, and he understood. Demonic power couldn't do that, but somehow he did. Just like somehow he could see what the angels could not see. He wasn't either, demonic or angelic. That made him the perfect weapon to use against either side.

The mental shouts of the angels guarding Dean were suddenly snuffed out. The dead silence sent fear spiraling through the entire contingency of angels. Had Cain killed two more of their brethern?

From above, Samuel saw the fire eating up the ground, roaring over the crumbling safe house and chasing towards Dean. "Michael, Gabriel... fire," he shouted, circling to get to his lover. The darkness inside Dean was growing, pushing everything else out a little at a time. Fight... fight Dean, I'll be right there. Samuel tried to compartmentalize his message to that part of Dean's mind that was still Dean's.

Michael and two others swooped down in front of the fires, surprised that they were as hot as the ones that burned in hell. Arms stretched up, they called upon every last vestige of their abilities, God given powers, to stop the fire. It wouldn't go out, nor would it slow, but it slammed against the force field they raise, climbing up skyward just like a tidal wave. Michael mentally called for help, but Gabriel countermanded the request. All angels were to attack Caine... whether he was in his own body or the humans.

Gabriel's last order was transmitted to all but Samuel.

Dropping down next to Dean, Sam saw the angels on the ground. He couldn't tell if they were alive, and could not check. Dean's eyes... no, not Dean's... Cain's, dark and cold, stared at him.

Sam's eyes went dark, the winds kicking up around them, blowing the hot air from the fire around. "Get out of him, you have one chance... or you will go to hell," he said pointing. He would have started a modified exorcism but a voluntary exit would be better for Dean, and Sam was working hard inside Dean's mind, trying to free him from Cain from the inside.

Fight… He was trying. Dean struggled against the crushing cold darkness the felt like it was slowly consuming him from the inside out. He tried to throw Cain out of his mind the same way he had so easily thrown Samuel out more than once, but it wasn’t working. The cold nearly dug long bloody claws into him, tearing into him, holding on, and Dean screamed in pain inside his head. Still he tried to fight, with Samuel’s help, but for every inch the darkness of Cain gained inside of him Dean felt himself growing weaker. This wasn’t just a possession. If Cain succeeded there would be nothing left of him when it was over. His soul crushed to dust and expelled. Dean didn’t know if he’d die or if he’d simply cease to exist.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

Cain watched in amusement as the angels did their best to divert the tidal wave of hellfire, but they wouldn’t be able to hold back the flames for long. However his interest faded quickly when he felt the presence of another angel land close to him. One both he, and this body, knew very well. He turned to face Samuel, a cold cruel smile pulling at his lips.

“Hello again, Samuel.” Cain said, almost conversationally. As though he took no notice at all of the heat from the flames or the angel’s fury, in fact, he chuckled softly at Samuel’s words. Shaking his head.

“Now really, who are you trying to fool? We both know you won’t do that. For one, Hell will not hold me for long…” Cain took a few slow steps towards Samuel, lowering his borrowed voice to an almost sultry tone. “Two, you know I can simply drag your precious lover’s soul right to hell with me.”

Cain chuckled again.

“Really Samuel, I’m surprised. You, of all, falling for a human? Risking damnation yourself? All for a fine piece of ass?” Cain felt Dean’s shocked horror in his mind and he chuckled again, running a hand slowly down his own chest. “Oh? You didn’t tell him, did you? That you would go to hell for loving him… well, I can’t really blame you. After all, such a pretty package… and so much power. What an interesting find you have made, Samuel.”

Cain’s amused smile slipped of Dean’s face abruptly.

“Did you really think you could hide him from me?”

Don't listen to his words... focus on expelling him. Listen to me now, Dean. Expel him. Samuel started to say the words of the ritual he'd taught Dean, until Dean joined in, then he allowed him to continue that battle alone as he faced Cain.

"And I can bring his soul back from hell, so don't... threaten... me." He had done it before, he would do it again. The blistering heat of hell wouldn't stop him from bringing Dean back, what he was more concerned with was that his body had to remain intact and his soul should not be dislodged.

"Hide? I'm not hiding Cain, you're the one hiding inside that human. Where is your body? They're searching for it... will find it. You cannot completely sever your connection with it quickly enough and the ritual of destruction will reach your soul... consume you... destroy you." The ritual wasn't used often, it required a sacrifice... an angel. Samuel had already mentally volunteered, but he knew others had as well.

Now he had to make sure Cain in fact didn't begin to sever his connection. He'd taken three long steps toward Cain, hand outstretched as he sent waves of controlled energy toward him, aware that if Cain suddenly withdrew, he might hurt Dean's suddenly unprotected body, when Gabriel landed close by. Gabriel if you push... NO!

Samuel catapulted himself in front of the deadly bluish white bolts of jagged lightning springing from Gabriel's hands, zig zagging toward Dean. The fully unleashed power of the archangel struck him in the center of his body, and he bowed back, screaming in pain... electricity leaving from his mouth and making him jerk.

Dean’s mind was still reeling with Cain’s revelation’s. Was it true? Was Samuel really going to be punished by being sent to hell just because he loved him? Of course Cain could be lying. Demons lied. Unless the truth caused more pain… The young man felt himself slipping even further, fear for his lover overwhelming him.

This was all his fault… all his fault… Samuel would be condemned to hell instead of him… oh god, why didn’t Sam tell him? How could he have not told him? Dean never would have come back. He never would have pushed and pushed… he never would have… he would have sent himself back to hell long ago.

He heard Samuel’s order to recite the rituals that Sam had taught him earlier. Dean didn’t know how it was supposed to do any good. He wasn’t strong enough to fight Cain. Not one on one when the demon had already taken over so much of him. He started repeating Samuel’s words even though he knew it was futile. He wasn’t going to win this. Samuel should just expel Cain, let the demon drag him to hell with him, maybe Gabriel would be satisfied then. Maybe he would forgive Samuel and he wouldn’t punish him…

Cain’s expression never faltered, and he only chuckled again at Sam’s threats. He knew the angel was bluffing. As was evidenced by Samuel’s pathetically weak attack which Cain brushed aside easily.
As long as he was within this vessel Samuel would not dare let any harm come to it and he could damage the human’s fragile soul permanently with very little effort.

If they tried to destroy him he could easily destroy the human as well, rip his body into a thousand pieces and shred his soul till it was unrecognizable. The things he could do to the boy in hell before Sam found him… it an amusing enough thought to almost let Samuel try it. To let him search for a hundred years in hell for the boy he loved, only to find him a shell, or even a demon by the time Cain got through with him. But he had far bigger plans, and this human’s strange powers would surely aid him well.

Still, the other angels did not seem to be quite concerned over the life or sanity of the human boy, as he found out seconds later when Gabriel released his powers against him. Samuel of course, the self sacrificing fool, putting himself between the attack and his beloved. Samuel’s scream of pain echoing in his mind by the boy. Soul pain, it was delicious.

Seeing Samuel fall to the energy blast, protecting him from Gabriel, ignited a rage inside of Dean like a white hot nova. He redoubled his struggles against the demon, drawing on every ounce of power he had inside of him, wrenching control of it away from Cain much to the demon’s surprise.

Cain growled in anger, preparing his power to crush the foolish boy but Samuel had been right about one thing. The other angels were closing in not only on his old body but more were coming for Dean as well. They might just succeed in destroying the boy and he couldn’t allow that. He wanted Dean for himself and he would have him. So, for now, he began to withdraw from the human’s mind. Though not before he whispered darkly, ”When you see what they’ll have in store for him, you will be begging for my power to save him.”

And then Cain was gone and Dean collapsed on the ground, panting and shaking violently as the heat of the flames around him that suddenly died away as well. He tried to crawl to Samuel’s side.

“Samuel…”

Everything happened at once then. Several angles landed close by, all of them and Gabriel walking towards Dean, arms outstretched and ready to destroy him. Samuel lifted his head, stretched his arm toward his lover, sending out a weak but desperate mental call to the angels to stop, to know that Cain was gone... that it was Dean, pure Dean crawling toward him. The advancing angels' fingertips sparked with electricity.

Michael descended like a boulder falling from the skies, the earth shaking as he rolled on the ground covering Dean's body with his own. He had promises to keep. Smoke swept over them, then was cleared by a thousand winds pushing it away. By then, order was restored, and the angels started to leave, their mission in shambles.

Rolling off Dean, Michael stood guard over him as Samuel recovered, and reached him. Unable to think past the fact Dean was alive, Samuel pulled him into his arms, his mouth seeking Dean's, his tongue pushing inside the velvety heat of his mouth as he sought proof of his survival, proof that his love had made it, had cast Cain out. I think I died a thousand deaths today. Don't ever volunteer for anything like this again, Dean, not ever. Not if you love me.

Already he was planning to demand that not only Michael keep his promise to look in on Dean, but to take him as his ward.

"Stop that," Gabriel snarled, pointing at them. "Sacrilegious... stop it."

Dean’s eyes didn’t focus on anyone or anything but Samuel even as the advancing angels, his “protectors”, were now coming to kill him. He didn’t care. All he cared about right now was reaching Samuel. Touching him. Reassuring to himself that the angel was all right. Though he honestly wasn’t sure if he would have tried to stop them from killing him even if he did care.

Cain’s literally damning words were still echoing in his head long after the bastard was gone. The worst part was that he was right. It was all Dean’s fault. What they were going to do to Sam… because of him… and he would do anything to spare Samuel that fate. Anything…

He couldn’t help but wonder again if he gave Gabriel the pleasure of killing him then the other angel would go easier on Samuel. He was sure Gabriel would much rather see him in hell than Samuel. To have Samuel all to himself again… not that Samuel would ever give him what he wanted. That thought made him smile a little even as his insides felt shredded by the pain of knowing he’d never see Samuel again. Dean would still accept that fate however, any fate, as long as it meant Samuel would go free…

He was prepared to die. He was prepared to go to hell. Right then. Far more prepared than he had been a year ago when Samuel had brought him back. The death he was ready for however never happened.

The feeling of the ground literally shaking beneath him and that of a body suddenly protecting him startled Dean badly. Even so he had enough of his senses intact to instinctively struggle against the solid mass of muscle draped over him. Desperate to free himself, but not to protect himself but to reach Samuel. To touch him one last time… please…

His pleas and struggles to be let go went unheeded however, at least at first. When he finally was allowed up, coughing a little on the black smoke from the extinguished fires wafting around the area, he realized he was no longer being targeted by the other angels. They must have realized that Cain was gone. Michael… Michael had protected him with his own body. They could have killed him… but instead it had been enough to make the other angels hesitate.

But suddenly Samuel was there, pulling him up off the ground and into his arms and Dean didn’t care about anything else. Dean wrapped his arms around Samuel so tightly they ached with the strain but he didn’t give a fuck. He returned his lover’s hard and desperate kiss, completely uncaring of their audience and he wasn’t planning on letting the angel up for breath anytime soon.

At least he hadn’t been until he heard Gabriel’s snarled words and something inside of Dean snapped. Dean broke their kiss with a growl.

“You son of a bitch!” He yelled and he was on his feet within seconds, advancing on Gabriel just like the angel had him not minutes ago. Just as much hate burning in his eyes for the angel as Gabriel had for him. He drew his fist back, at the same time digging into the power that Cain had seemed to draw forth inside of him so easily. Aiming everything he could into the point where his fist connected with Gabriel’s jaw.

It fucking hurt. Dean felt a couple of his knuckles break from the impact but the pain was nothing compared to the satisfaction of seeing Gabriel landing on his ass a good twenty feet away from him from the punch. He hoped he broke the fuckers jaw!

“You could have killed him!”

"Dean!" There was no way Sam could have anticipated this, none. Not even his hothead lover would be crazy enough to go after an archangle, or so he'd thought. Dammit, no! He was right behind him, but too late to stop him.

Gabriel stared coolly at Dean, wanting him to attack. He'd break his fist, and then Gabriel would break Dean, and he would be in his right. He didn't defend himself, wanting the first strike to come from the human. The slight smile was wiped off Gabriel's face when Dean struck him with inhuman power, propelling him backwards on his ass.

He was testing his jaw, powering up, trying to put it together, how had Dean done that. By the time he looked up and raised his own arm, Samuel was between himself and Dean, as was Michael. Other angels were around him, no one offering help but staring at him, waiting for answers.

Sam had Dean's hand in both of his, and was mentally chiding him for putting his life at risk. Again. Because he'd been in Dean's mind when Cain had control over him, he'd seen how Cain accessed certain latent powers in Dean, so he knew how it was that Gabriel was sitting on his ass. The mysteries of the power would be explored, and he'd felt no evil taint to the powers.

Pushing off the ground, Gabriel approached.

Samuel turned, moving protectively in front of Dean. "We have a deal, Gabriel," he reminded him, speaking softly, thought there was nothing soft about his stance.

"Him all over you is not part of that deal. This is conduct unbecoming of an angel and you know it," the archangel ground out, his eyes burning with anger. "I will pass judgment immediately on our return." He turned his head. "Michael, you will take Dean now."

"A moment, give me a moment," Samuel asked.

"Time just ran out. Michael, now."

Sam squeezed Dean's hand, no longer trying to aid with the healing, but clinging to their last touch. Don't fight, please don't Dean. Please go with Michael." Closing his eyes for a moment, Sam gave him an image, a last kiss, and then shot up into the air before Dean could change his mind and start a battle neither of them could win.

Michael grasped Dean's arms, both of them behind his back, in a gentle but unrelenting hold. One by one, the other angels left, some throwing resentful looks at Dean, others looks of pity or admiration, though the latter were few.

Of course Dean had heard Sam’s warnings, both aloud and inside of his head, but the young man did not heed any of them. He wasn’t going to be afraid of Gabriel, god damn it! If the other angel decided to strike him down, fine! It would only show everyone around them what this was really about.

Gabriel’s hatred and his jealousy that Sam was Dean’s not his.

Dean would have really loved to lay into Gabriel with this new found power but he didn’t get the chance to. Sam was there, once more placing himself between him and the other angel and Dean wasn’t going to risk his lover getting hurt, or possibly even killed, trying to protect him from Gabriel.

He deserved it. Was all Dean replied to Sam admonishment about putting himself in danger again. Dean didn’t care. He didn’t care about the pain in his hand that Sam was trying to heal. His whole world was being torn down, was being ripped away by Gabriel, and the heartless bastard wouldn’t even let them have a moment…

Gabriel’s comment regarding “conduct unbecoming of an angel” had white hot rage flashing through Dean again and he nearly pushed past Samuel to go at Gabriel again. The fucking bastard! He and Sam loved each other! Gabriel was only doing this out of hate, so which was more “unbecoming”? He’d show that prick unbecoming…

Dean’s anger changed to horror however when Gabriel spoke of judgment and Dean realized what was happening. No…

“Sam, no…” The young man tried to beg. He couldn’t just let Sam go. He couldn’t… but there was nothing he could do. He tried to hold onto Samuel, but he couldn’t. His lover was literally ripped from his fingers and it was worse because Samuel himself had done it, no one else. “NO! Samuel!”

Despite Samuel’s words not to fight, that didn’t stop Dean. It didn’t stop the young man from struggling against Michael, as though there was even a chance he could go after them, which there wasn’t. It didn’t stop him from screaming after Sam, begging him to come back, not to leave him. He didn’t give a damn what the other angels thought of him. He didn’t care if they thought he was pathetic, or a corrupted hell spawn that deserved this, or if they pitied him. None of them understood. None… Blinded by his own tears Dean finally crumbled to the ground, sobbing brokenly.

Michael released him when there was no chance that Dean could go after either Sam or Gabriel. He stood by as Dean cried, sobbing like a broken man. He'd seen a lot of heartache in his life, tragedies, families and town torn apart, decimated, blood running a foot deep, and yet he was moved by this. Eventually, he picked Dean up, holding him in his arms and soothing him, the way angels did to humans. He couldn't take all of the pain away like this, but he could ease it, could calm him.

When Dean pulled away, Michael reached out and touched his cheek. "You were born under a tragic star. Call it fate. Call it what you want. In my heart, I know you don't deserve any of this." His hand slipped off Dean. "Samuel asked me to take you on as my ward. I agreed. Let's go to your house, collect some things, and then I'll take you to Budapest. I think you'll like it there, and it will be a change of scenery. There are lots of demons to be hunted," he threw in, "hunters are needed."

"Come," he put an arm out. "I'll keep you safe."

Dean wondered briefly if a human could actually die of dehydration from shedding so many tears. He wondered if emotional pain could kill just as easily as a real knife wound to the heart. It was certainly more painful. So much more painful. Worse than he imagined losing a limb would feel like. It felt worse than dying... he knew that from experience all too well...

At first he simply didn’t have the strength or will to fight the angel’s arms around him or Michael’s attempts to offer him comfort. For what it was worth... as though anything could ease the pain he was feeling. Yet Dean remembered how Samuel had done the same for him so many times in the beginning. When he’d first come to live with the angel. All the nights he’d crawled from his own bed into Sam’s and how the angel would embrace him while he sobbed from nightmares of his former life. Samuel’s touch so soothing, so comforting, so loving...

Of course Michael’s efforts, as genuine as they were, were pale in comparison, but familiar enough that Dean found himself clinging to the other angel tightly until he’d cried himself out. Until he felt so utterly... empty... that even the pain seemed less somehow. Enough that he finally managed at least to force himself to release Michael and stand on his own.

Michael’s pity, though genuine, was not what Dean wanted or needed however. The angel’s offer to take him “home” to gather his things so the angel could take him away, as far away from the life he had built with Samuel as he possibly could, to keep him “safe”... it only brought forth a small humorless laugh from Dean’s lips. Did he really think he could go anywhere in the entire world and just forget about Sam? Did he really think Dean cared about hunting right now? About being “safe”?

He slowly shook his head and stepped back from Michael’s offered hand.

“No.” Dean finally whispered hoarsely. “I’ll find my own way.”

MIchael tried. He did his best, both for Samuel's sake, and because he truly cared, but nothing he said got through to the wounded young man. He refused his protection, refused to become his ward, and even refused to stay with Michael for just a few days until Samuel's fate became known. Just when Michael thought that Dean would continue his refusal to at least allow Michael to get him home, Dean capitulated. Before he could change his mind, Michael picked Dean up in his arms, afraid to allow him to ride behind him, afraid Dean might let go. His history was fresh in Michael's mind, although he, like Samuel, knew this man had come a long way.

*

Once he brought Dean home, Michael was at a loss as to how to help him. Every offer of assistance that he gave was refused. Eventually, he had no choice but to leave him. Putting a hand on Dean's shoulder, he promised to check back in a few days and told him to be sure to eat and not to let himself go, that Samuel would expect more of him. When he left, he was sure his words fell on deaf ears,

Dean really had to hand it to Michael. The angel certainly behaved as if he actually cared what happened to him. Hell, maybe he even did. Dean didn’t know. Though he had a feeling the angel had only been so persistent because Samuel had probably asked him to. He knew Michael loved Samuel, was a good friend. It made Dean feel even guiltier for having accused Michael as he had before… well, it would have if Dean could have felt anything other than the crushing despair of Samuel’s loss in his heart.

He’d finally agreed to let the angel take him “home”. If only because Dean knew he had no way to get there on his own. Once they arrived back at Samuel’s apartment though, Dean again refused Michael’s offers to “help”. He didn’t want to stay with the angel. He didn’t want the angel to stay with him. He wanted to be alone.

As soon as he was Dean felt himself crumbling again, tears pouring from his already aching eyes as he sobbed right there on the floor in the living room. He stayed there all day and through most of the night, alternating between sobbing uncontrollably and just lying there listlessly. He knew he was pathetic but he didn’t care.

He finally forced himself to move when he felt like his bladder was about to explode and went to the bathroom. Of course walking in there every image of himself and Sam began to flash before his eyes. From the first time Dean had explored his new home, to that night with the bubble incident, getting into the shower with Sam and questioning him about sex, and of course all the times they’d made love in here. Dean finished his business as quickly as he could, but wasn’t surprised that his eyes were wet again as he walked out of the bathroom. Dean wondered if it was possible for a person to cry themselves to death.

Dean finally ended up in his room… the room he hadn’t used for nearly a year except to store his clothes and make it look to anyone else that he and Samuel were not sleeping together every night. He only came in here because he didn’t think he could handle right now going into Samuel’s room. Even in here, though Samuel didn’t come in often except to put away laundry or change the sheets (even though Dean wasn’t using them) it still smelled faintly of Sam in here.

As Dean laid down on the bed, staring at the shifting patterns of light and shadow on the walls, he wondered if any of the angels were still watching him. He was still in “danger” after all, wasn’t he? This would be a perfect time for Cain to come after him again, if the demon still wanted him. To be truthful, Dean didn’t really give a damn if Cain came for him again or not. He didn’t give a damned if the angels were still watching him or if they’d decided to throw him to the wolves. He didn’t care… they’d taken away the only thing he cared for, the only one who’d ever cared for him… they could all go to hell, as far as he was concerned.

Samuel stood at the center of the room looking up at the raised table where Gabriel sat, flanked by three arch angels on either side of him. The gallery behind Sam was packed with angels, and standing next to him was Raphael. Looking at the angel hurt. No he didn't look like Dean but all those comparisons... they just stuck in Sam's head.

Gabriel cleared his throat. "Are you ready to hear your judgment."

Samuel was dressed in white, his wings visible. Many had already commented on the fact that his wings were as white as snow, hardly any red bleeding into the feathers. Work, good deeds would wash away evidence of sins and infractions, but it took time and in light of his having been caught fornicating only the night before, it was hard to fathom the reason for their purity. "I am," he said clearly.

Gabriel read the list of charges, then put the paper down. "Samuel, angel of the Lord, you are sentence to one hundred years solitary imprisonment. With great regret, I will oversee your prayers and punishment as required.. The location will be classified."

Raphael spoke up. "On behalf of Samuel, I request clarification. What are the parameters of the punishment, why is the location secret, and... in light of the state of Samuel's wings which indicates a purity of heart, I ask for clemency. Samuel's reputation is--"

"One moment. Is Raphael speaking on your behalf?" Gabriel's eyes burned like coals as he reminded Sam of their deal.

There was a long silence. "No. I accept the punishment."

There were some gasps.

"In that case, I will lodge and appeal..."

Putting his hand out, Samuel stopped Raphael. "I waive all appeals."

"Then, as of this moment, you are under my custody. Please escort Samuel to the green room."

As he walked out, Samuel felt other angels touch him and murmur words of comfort. He didn't care about anything at the moment, just that his golden haired boy would be alright. Michael's absence reassured him that his friend was taking care of Dean. He did his best to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself, but he knew Dean could reach them if he tried. That's why he didn't think too deeply on what was going to happen to him, on how he'd miss his lover, on the fact that his love would have long turned to ash by the time he walked the earth free again.

*

[One Week Later]


Sam stood shirtless, each of his wrists cuffed above his head, to the wall. Heavy lengths of chain were wrapped around his arms, shoulders and body, a reminder of his sins against the Father. It was utterly silent in this small stone tomb. He couldn't even hear the scurrying of rats feet, or anything but the sounds that he generated. One hundred years of this, of silence, of nothing to read or absorb, he could take that. He could relive every moment of his life with Dean, it would sustain him. What he wasn't sure he could take was Gabriel's visits.

The archangel who claimed to love him was slipping... mentally slipping. Sam had not seen that coming. Yes, once he'd felt lust, once he'd succumbed to it and realized its power, he'd recognized it in Gabriel. But he couldn't fathom how Gabriel's jealousy was twisting the archangel, who he'd always respected, up so much.

Three times, Gabriel had demanded that he show him ... demonstrate the fornication between himself and Dean. The demands were justified by Gabriel's claim that he needed to understand what it was he would pray with Samuel for forgiveness for. Sam had refused, and each time the temperature in the small room had risen to the temperatures found in hell.

* * *

[Three Weeks Later]

Samuel had denied Gabriel again and again and there had started to be consequences. He wished it were just the discomfort of a too heated room.

During one of the episodes Gabriel was having, Gabriel demanded that Sam swear he would block his mind from Dean. Samuel swore to do his best and kept to the letter of that promise. While he knew he wasn't capable of blocking, he could try... and did, both to spare Dean and to try to give him a chance to forget... to let go, thought deep down, he knew his lover too well to expect that to happen in less than a number of years.

He heard the pacing from behind him, heard Gabriel's mutterings and bowed his head. Please let it be over quickly.

"You think of him often, don't you? I am speaking with you, Samuel, answer me."

"I think of him. Yes."

"You will stop this, at once. How can I cure you of your ... your sick need to fornicate with him?" In two strides, Gabriel was behind Sam, one arm around Sam's neck, pulling him back against his own body. "Pray for forgiveness.... confess your lust... relinquish it. Do it now."

The blast of heat filling the room had Sam jerking back from the doubly hot wall. He started to string together the words Gabriel wanted to hear... stuttering when he felt Gabriel grind his arousal against his ass. "Gabriel, you cannot--"

"Shut up... pray... I shall absolve you."

"You cannot." Almost choking at the force applied to his throat, Sam's eyes went dark. A cool draft blew but was quickly choked by the heat. He did as Gabriel ordered, gritting his teeth as he felt the angel's furtive motions motions against him, the small groans, the repeated demands that Sam show him how he fornicated. It went on and on, Sam's forhead dripping with sweat, his throat dry from speaking for hours.

"Give me this... give me this one thing, Samuel... this one thing!" Gabriel suddenly shouted, pushing the chains down Samuel's body, forcing Sam up against the wall as he fucked into him. Groans broke from the back of his throat. "Move with me... Samuel, show me..."

Sam refused to budge. His face repeatedly struck the stone and he was almost unconscious with exhaustion by the time Gabriel left him days, maybe a week afterwards, without coming to completion and blaming Sam for it.

* * *

[Three Months Later]

He'd been beater, whipped with a weapons infused with Gabriel's powers, leather that cut Samuel's flesh down to his bone. His face had been bashed beyond recognitions, his body bloodied. It was temporary, he always healed after Gabriel left him, and it was always the same reason. He refused to fuck Gabriel, to show him what he shared with Dean. Samuel had lost control over his life, his destiny, but one thing he did have control over was his body... and he kept a tight rein on it, showing no signs of arousal no matter how Gabriel tried to coax him. His refusals cost him. His protests, his questions about why this sort of fornication would be allowed when his physical love of Dean which was coupled with a pure love was not, cost him. His refusals to speak, to pray with Gabriel, cost him.

Samuel's best moments were when he was completely alone and could think of Dean. Sometimes he thought he felt him in his mind, sometimes he knew he was imagining it... but it gave him some pleasure, even if he wouldn't answer... wouldn't engage... wouldn't acknowledge Dean. The second best moments were when Gabriel would give up, would beat him to a bloody pulp so that Sam would be engulfed in darkness.. blacking out was a relief.

Sam came to, his vision blurry. His moments of peace were over. Gabriel was leaning over him, making his demands.

"Show me now, it isn't a big thing I ask. You've done it often enough with that human," Gabriel spat, his eyes blazing with fury at Samuel's continued denials. Another fifteen minutes later, his blood was boiling. With a single thought, he had the chains fall off Samuel's body, an invisible force slamming the imprisoned angel onto the ground on his back, his hands and legs spread wide.

The room went freezing cold as Sam's eyes darkened, but he'd agreed to accept punishment. Stupid rule. He couldn't break his word, not when Dean would be in danger because of it.

"If you won't have me, I shall have you," Gabriel snarled.

Thick, spike-like nails were suddenly driven right through his hands and ankles. Samuel screamed and arched off the ground, his eyes seeking Gabriel's, pleading. But he knew now that Gabriel had gone completely mad. He refused to waste words pleading, refused to speak.

Gabriel fell on him, forced himself on Sam, kissed him brutally... imagining how the angel he'd loved for so long had betrayed him, fornicated with a human, remembering what the two fo them had looked like in that bed, when he'd caught them. Remembering the rebellion in Dean's eyes, over and over.

Hours, maybe days passed. All Samuel knew was that he was struck, and kissed, and fucked against, and that every single time Gabriel pushed his cock up against his hole, Gabriel would lose his erection. Then he'd go crazy again, beating him, accusing him of causing this... doing this to him... and it would start over... and over... and over...

I have had enough. It would be better to suffer at the hands of hell than at the hands of grace.

True to his word, Michael had come back to check up on him in a few days. During that time, Dean had only gotten up from the bed a handful of times, to go to the bathroom and nothing more. He didn’t eat, because he wasn’t hungry. He didn’t drink, because he wasn’t thirsty. He didn’t sleep, because he wasn’t tired. He simply hurt too much for any of those things. Hell, even breathing hurt. Living hurt. He hurt like his soul was dying inside of him. Maybe it was.

At the angel’s insistence, more because Dean knew that Michael wouldn’t leave him alone again until he did, he drank a little water and ate a little bit of soup that the angel made for him. The effort felt like it drained what little energy he had. When the angel finally left, telling him once more to rest and take care of himself but obviously not satisfied Dean would actually do it, the young man finally fell asleep for the first time in days. Only to wake up again barely an hour later from nightmares, screaming.

But there was no one to hear him in the empty apartment. No one to comfort him, to wrap him in warm arms and surround him with gentle wings, keeping the darkness away. No one to tell him everything was going to be all right… because it never would be again…

Dean had cried until his eyes felt like they were bleeding.

*

Dean stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom. He had taken a shower. More to keep him awake than any real desire to be clean. Not that he felt clean even after he was done. Not even after standing underneath the nearly scalding water for over an hour and then remaining there for another half hour or so even after the water had turned to ice.

Even though the mirror was fogged from the steam he could see the obvious difference in the reflection that stared back at him. In the past few weeks he had probably lost at least fifteen pounds. His ribs were just starting to show. His hip bones were more pronounced than before and his stomach sunken in. His face though, that was probably the most shocking. His skin was pale as a ghost and the dark circles under his eyes made him look like a corpse.

Dean wondered how long it would take before he really turned into one.

*

Bobby had come by that day. Dean had lost track what day it was. Of course he hadn’t let the older hunter into the apartment, Bobby had let himself in. The older man had taken one look at him and he swore any second the grizzled hunter was going to burst into tears.

Bobby had made him eat. A lot more than the few bites Michael had ever managed to get him to choke down at a time. Of course he’d thrown it all up not long after that, and Bobby had stayed with him in the bathroom while he heaved his guts out. After a couple of hours, Bobby had made him eat again. Not as much as the first time, but still more substantial than he’d had in weeks. At least it had stayed down the second time.

The older man had made him tell him everything that had happened. Dean couldn’t help but marvel a little at how the older man could so easily make him do what he didn’t want to do. It all spilled out of Dean much like his “lunch” had earlier and Bobby just listened. He didn’t judge, even when Dean admitted to the older man that he and Sam were together. Though from the look on Bobby’s face, it was hardly a big secret to begin with. Bobby wasn’t stupid or blind after all, the older man reminded Dean.

Exhausted, Dean had finally fallen to an uneasy sleep. When the nightmares woke him, at least Bobby was there, though Dean refused to go back to sleep again.

*

Dean didn’t know what was worse. The nightmares themselves or lying awake afterwards wondering if they were true. When he slept he dreamt of Samuel, of course. But The things he saw happening to the angel… to his lover… Just thinking about it usually made him vomit up whatever Bobby had managed to get him to eat that day.

Bobby still came, every day. The older man practically watching him like a hawk. Michael came sometimes once or twice a week. He didn’t really want either of their help, but he couldn’t make either of them leave either.

He started eating again on his own without their insistence. Just to get them off his back more than anything else. He still wasn’t sleeping more than an hour or two a night, if that. Sometimes when he was asleep he felt like he was actually there… with Samuel… and it felt like he was in hell. When he woke up, sobbing and screaming Sam’s name, there was nothing but that blank cold emptiness.

*

He couldn’t do this anymore. He simply couldn’t. Dean knew he was going to eventually end up in hell anyway. He’d never “redeemed” himself, like Sam had wanted him to. Surely being the cause of making an angel fall was a hell worthy offence all on its own, even if Dean hadn’t tried to kill himself. Why wait then? Why prolong it? He’d rather be with Samuel in hell than be alone here…

Dean pressed the sharpened knife to his wrist. It was silver. Good for killing a lot of evil things. Evil things like him.

The cuts he made were perpendicular to the faded scars already on his arms. He wasn’t so far gone not to see the irony that the two cuts together formed the shape of a cross. He almost laughed, though the sound came out like a sob instead.

Samuel was brought out of his state of sleep by a sharp pain on the inside of his arm, and his wrist. Jerking awake, his hands still nailed to the ground, he couldn't pull his arms in front of him. Turning his head, he saw the blood... two perfect lines of red, leaking blood. "No... No.... NO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Don't you do this, don't you do this Dean. Don't.... Don't... if you ever loved me, even a little... Dont you do this. Breaking his word, Sam mentally sought out Dean, screaming for him to listen. This... this hurt him more than anything Gabriel could do to him, much more.

Like dominos, after breaking one promise, he broke another. Reaching across space he gave Michael a mental image of Dean ... bleeding, and prayed to God the other angel would forgive him for violating isolation, and get to his ward. Get to him before his soul was damned once again.

* * *

Michael didn't bother to knock. Pushing the door open, he headed straight for the bathroom. Blood, so much of it, all over the bright white tile, in the channels of grout, leading away... drainging from Dean. The sight of the hunter, a shadow of what he'd been, now dying in front of him hurt Michael more than it should.

A white light shone from his hands, but he quickly realized he couldn't repair the damage alone. Kneeling, he lifted Dean up into his arms, his wings unfurling as he strode out of the apartment and down the stairs, a veil of invisibility curtaining them from prying eyes.


* * *


"Mr. Winchester?"

Michael, appearing to mortals as Samuel, rose from the seat in the hostpital waiting room. He'd had to prove he was kin to the boy... the man who'd been in a psych ward for most of his life. "How is..."

"He's going to be alright," the doctor told him, giving him a grim smile. "You got him here just in time. A team of psychiatrists will want to see him in the morning, I suggest you give them access," she said.

Merely thanking her, Michael headed for the room they'd told him where Dean would be taken. When he entered, he saw that Dean's arms were wrapped in bandages and he appeared to be asleep. Walking up to the bed, he stood next to it, looking down. For Samuel's sake, he placed one hand over Dean's forhead, offering him peace and warmth and comfort.

The more things changed the more they stayed the same… it was really ironic that the first time he’d ever heard Samuel’s voice inside of his head was the first time he’d tried to kill himself. The angel… of course he hadn’t known Sam was an angel then, he’d only thought Sam was another one of his hallucinations… begging him not to kill himself. Not to die… It was ironic that if Dean had died, gone to hell then as he’d deserved, then Sam would have never known him, never loved him, wouldn’t be suffering right now because of him… It was ironic that this might be the last time he would ever “hear” Samuel’s voice, once more begging and pleading not to die, if he loved Sam… and Dean wanted to die because he loved Sam so much. Wanted to be with the angel in heaven, earth, or hell, it didn’t matter. He just wanted to be with him…

Besides, it was already too late. His body was already too weak. He’d already lost too much blood.

I need you… can’t… without you…

He gladly let darkness swallow him in its cold embrace.

*

Was he in hell? He didn’t know. If he was, it wasn’t like the hell he remembered. It was worse. A private hell, just for him, where he had to watch as Sam was beaten, torture, raped… and there was nothing he could do. He was helpless. Only able to watch. Only able to feel. No one heard him when he screamed along with Sam, feeling everything that the angel felt. No one saw the tears pouring down his face. No one paid attention to the curses falling from his lips at the one… Gabriel… torturing Sam. Raping Sam…

It had to be hell. It had to be… because it couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be really happening. The nightmares… the reason why he refused to sleep… they couldn’t be real. But he couldn’t wake up. He couldn’t… wake… up…

SAMUEL!

*

The light blinded him. All he saw was white, burning into his eyes like hot embers. There was a shrill screaming alarm coming from somewhere. He didn’t know where, or what it was, but it only made him panic more.

“Samuel!” He cried out without thinking, and then choked on his own breath almost before the last syllable was out of his mouth. Samuel was gone… he was alone…

Worse, he was alive…

Dragging a chair close, Michael watched over Dean. He could tell from the kid’s jerky movements that he was having nightmares, and he’d watched the doctors pump sedatives into him to no avail. He was tempted, so tempted to wipe everything away, give him a fresh start.

Bowing his head, he wondered if he should just do it. Dean had suffered all his life, he’d made such headway with Samuel. That he’d fallen in love with the angel was no sin. His gaze went to the bandage wrapped arms of the boy and he shook his head.

Gripping the railing of Dean’s bed, he whispered. “Are you trying to damn your soul? Shall I take it all away, you memories? Will you find peace then?”

The voice beside him startled Dean badly, and he blinked his eyes rapidly trying to focus. Trying to make the white disappear. Trying to make sense of the words. Was he trying to damn his soul? Yes. He was trying to be with Samuel. He didn't care if that meant he was damned for all eternity. As long as he was damned with Samuel...

Take it away? His memories? Peace... No! He didn't want peace, god damn it! He wanted Samuel! He didn't want to forget...

Though a small evil part inside of him whispered that if he forgot everything that he would never know what he was missing. Dean snarled at that part inside of him. That cowardly part that would dare to even consider giving up his memories of Samuel. The only thing in his life that had ever mattered. The only thing that he'd ever treasured. The only one who had ever really loved him...

He would take all the pain, all of it and more, all over again, just to have Samuel back with him.

The bright light finally gave way to blobs of shadow floating in front of his eyes and slowly those blobs shifted into focus. Dean blinked a few more times. Wondering if he was still dreaming... or if he really was hallucinating... for the first time in his life.

"Samuel?" Dean whispered, his voice barely a breath. Then he surged up, he didn't even know where he found the strength to sit up. Of course the restraints binding his wrists to the sides of the bed brought him up short, prevented him from wrapping his arms around the angel like he wanted, but he didn't care. All he cared about was that Samuel was there as he kissed the angel hard, pouring all his love and desperate need into the kiss.

Michael's eyes widened when Dean suddenly jackknifed up as far as he could, and slanted his mouth across his own. Before he could say a word, he was being kissed, kissed in a way he never had before. Of course he allowed Dean to kiss him, offering whatever comfort he could by his touch... if this was what Dean needed.

He was passive, he didn't kiss Dean back, but he felt something stirring deep inside him. He started to notice a tension that was building low in his belly, and an urge... the urge to move his own tongue, to tangle it with Dean's. His hands gripped the railing as he fought against the need.

Yes... yes kissed before, to offer comfort. He'd kissed in the human manner, for the same reason. But he'd never been tempted to kiss back in response to his body's reactions. He now had an inkling of what Samuel had faced, day in and day out, knowing the determination of this young man.

Closing his eyes, Michael reminded himself what Dean meant to Samuel, and what had happened to Samuel as he result of succumbing to temptation. But desire... in and of itself, unacted upon, like the love and desire Gabriel had for Sam, that was no sin. Later, he would reflect upon this moment some more. Now... now he'd concentrate on blocking the sounds that were welling up in the back of his throat, that he refused to give voice to.

Despite his desperate overwhelming need to reconnect with his lover in every way possible, Dean knew something was... wrong... almost immediately. For starters. Samuel didn’t kiss him back. The angel didn’t push him away or try to pull away. He allowed him entrance into his mouth and let Dean’s tongue explore wherever he wished, but Samuel didn’t reciprocate. Didn’t encourage. Didn’t make any sounds of pleasure or try to hold him in his arms. The longer it went on the more wrong it seemed until finally, no matter how much it hurt to break that connection, Dean pulled back.

“Samuel?” Just one word, a question and a desperate plea all at once. But even as he looked into the angel’s eyes, a part of him knew... this wasn’t Samuel. The connection simply wasn’t there. The deep soul level connection he’d always felt with the angel. The warmth. The love. The touch of Samuel’s thoughts... nothing but cold...

Crushed didn’t even begin to cover it as Dean fell back to the bed but he still couldn’t turn his wounded eyes away from the image of his beloved, no matter that it wasn’t real. Wasn’t really Sam, just a trick... anger at the deception was just beginning to boil within him but it was still too buried beneath the hurt to surface at the moment.

“Who are you?”

When Dean pulled away and said Samuel’s name, Michael blinked. He’d been lost... somewhere. Focusing on Dean’s face, he saw the hurt in his eyes, the disappointment, the knowledge. He also sensed the build up of fury, no unusual for one Dean Winchester.

“I’m sorry, Dean, it’s me... Michael.” He raised his hand to silence Dean, so that he could explain. “Not a sick joke, I would never do that to you. You tried to kill yourself, and they would only allow next of kin... your brother, per the court papers in your files, is Samuel. I had to come as him.”

He looked at the door, and then back at Dean. “It is very important that when the doctors come, you act... reasonably, like you have come back to your senses, or they will want to keep you under psychiatric observation.” He could take Dean out easily enough, but he wanted the records to be clean so that the young man would not have to be on the run.

“Do you understand?” he asked, reaching out and touching the side of Dean’s face. “You are not alone, I’m here for you. The are many who love you. You have to find a way to make peace ... to want to live. If you want me to take away your memories, or dampen them... make them like a dream, I can do that for you.”

Michael? Dean wanted to be angry. He really did. It would have been nice at that point to feel anything other than pain and misery. In the face of the angel’s sincere apology however the anger in him withered and died. Just like everything else inside of him.

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle humorlessly however when the angel told him he should behave reasonably. Like he’d come back to his senses… like this was just some teenage adolescent angst phase or a cry for attention or something.

He didn’t pull away from Michael’s gentle touch to his face, but neither did he respond to it. “Many” who loved him? Who? He almost asked the angel. Only Bobby had really noticed the absence of his presence, and he was pretty damned sure that only Bobby would really mourn him once he was gone. He was also pretty damned sure that Bobby would get along just fine without him.

Dean didn’t want to live. Not without Samuel.

The young man finally looked at Michael, wearing Samuel’s face, and his eyes narrowed in his first display of emotion other than anguish in what felt like a long time.

“No. I don’t want to forget. I’m not letting you take his memory away from me too.” Dean said firmly. He didn’t care how much it hurt remembering, he didn’t want to forget! “I don’t want peace. I don’t want to live. I want Samuel! If that has to be in hell, then I don’t care!”

"I'll respect your wishes, but if you ever change your mind, you have only to ask," Michael answered, dropping his hand and searching Dean's troubled face. "Do you think dying, killing yourself will reunite you with him?" That thought had never occurred to Michael, nor could he follow Dean's reasoning. "What in heaven's name gives you that idea?" Elbows braced on his knees, leaning toward the bed, Michael shook his head. "A good hunter looks before he leaps."

True, this was an emotionally charged situation and Dean had just lost his best friend, guardian and lover, all at once. He felt alone in this world, disconnected, and confused. "I want to help you Dean, I really do. I care what happens to you," he confessed, his gaze locked with Dean's. "I believe you are operating under some sort of misconception. Even if Samuel had been sent to hell, and you sent your soul there after him, part of your torture would be that you'd never see him. It wouldn't be hell if you got anything you wanted, now would it?"

He sighed and looked down. "Samuel's punishment is two centuries of solitary confinement. He will be well cared for during that period and though we shall miss him, he will be back in the fold after he has served his time. I know that doesn't help you or make you feel better, but believe me, he'd in a much better place than hell. Once an angel is sent to hell... we lose all jurisdiction over them. You saw yourself the punishment that is visited on angels in Satan's domain."

The orderly pushed in a cart, then picked up a tray of food and placed it on the table, which he pushed over the bed. "Shall I send a nurse to feed him?"

"I will do it." Michael waited for the orderly to leave, then reached out and unbound Dean's right hand. "Don't make me regret this."

Dean turned his face away from Michael the second that the angel dropped his hand. As much as he wanted to see Samuel… he didn’t want it to be like this. A lie. It was just too painful looking up into the face of the other angel that now mirrored his lovers and knowing it wasn’t real. That it was just an illusion.

He never knew angels were capable of this. Sure, he knew that they were capable of making themselves invisible and using glamour, or whatever, to make themselves seem more human like and less… awe inspiring. But Samuel’s human form and his true form weren’t all that different. This…

Dean frowned and felt his anger building up again when Michael basically called him an idiot for thinking that killing himself would reunite him with Samuel. Right now, he definitely didn’t appreciate the mocking.

The young man turned angry eyes on the angel when Michael said he wanted to “help” him. If he really wanted to help him, he would not have saved him. The angel would have let him die so he could go to Samuel. He didn’t care what the angel thought. He could and would find Samuel again, no matter if it took an eternity in hell. He would find him and nothing was going to stop him, god damn it!

Though Dean fairly gaped at the angel when Michael tried to tell him that Samuel wasn’t in hell. That he would be well cared for. Did the angel think he was completely stupid! Or had Michael been lied to? He wouldn’t put anything past that bastard angel Gabriel, he really wouldn’t.

Dean kept his mouth shut only through a great force of will when the orderly came and left. When Michael released one of his restraints, Dean wasted no time grasping the angel’s arm in an unforgiving grip. Not that he could actually hurt the angel, especially not as weak as he was, and the fact that his fingers weren’t really working all that well at the moment. Still it was satisfying to see the mild look of surprise on Michael’s face.

“Yes. I’ve seen the punishments of hell. I’ve felt the heat practically roasting the flesh from my bones. I’ve felt the whips tearing open my flesh clear down to bone. I’ve felt the chains made of ice heated till they were brands scorching and boiling my skin. I’ve felt the spikes driven through my hands and ankles, pinning me to ground like a morbid crucifix.” As he spoke, Dean tried to show Michael everything he had seen, everything he had felt. He’d never done this before. He could pick up feelings, thoughts, images from Samuel, but he’d never tried to share them before. From the expression on Michael’s face, he was doing a pretty good job of it.

“I’ve heard him screaming. While he’s being… tortured… raped… I’ve seen it, heard it, felt it… every time I close my eyes. I know they’re not dreams. Tell me again that’s not hell. Tell me again that he’s in a better place. Try to lie to me again…”

The angel looked at Dean’s hand clamped around his arm, then up at Dean, cocking his head. He’d released him to enable him to eat, not to get him even more wound up.

Michael’s breath wooshed out of him, not at Dean’s words per se, but at the images... the feelings, the sensations that were suddenly forced into his mind. His first instinct was to toss Dean right out but the more he saw, the more he realized what Dean was trying to tell him, show him. What he was seeing... feeling, through thick lenses that made the images blurry, and softened the physical sensations.. it was Samuel, Samuel’s punishment.

“It cannot be... it cannot...” he chanted, wanting to reject everything Dean showed him. Gabriel would never... he wouldn’t dare... he loved Samuel... their brother... His chest rose and fell as he saw Gabriel’s face, twisted in anger, come closer, felt his lips get bitten, heard Samuel deny him over and over and over until it rang in his head like church bells.

As Dean wound down and stopped projecting, Michael sagged in his chair. Dean’s words washed over him, all the things he’d felt, and the demands ... demands that he guaranty Samuel was safe... demands he would have unquestionably met five minutes ago.

He gripped the bed railing, eyes troubled. “How can you be sure it’s not a product of your mind? This is...” Looking down, he put his hands on his thighs. “It is a betrayal that I have difficulty believing. Prove to me it’s real. Ask Samuel to answer this question.” Michael put a question to Dean in the Enochian tongue, something Dean could never answer on his own. His question was simple: Is it true?

Dean probably shouldn’t have been surprised by Michael’s reaction to what he’d shown the angel. Michael thought Dean was crazy. Hell, maybe he fucking was crazy. He’d been told he was crazy all his life. By doctors, by shrinks, hell, even his own parents had thought he was crazy. Abandoning him to that damned mental institution for half of his life and forgetting he ever existed. Maybe they were all right after all. Maybe Dean was nothing more than a fucking lunatic. Maybe all he was seeing really was only in his mind, a sick hallucination... he hoped so, god, he hoped so.

Prove it. How the hell could he possibly prove it? The shrinks had tried that tactic with him once. Had asked him if what he was really seeing was real, then he should be able to prove it to them. But how could they believe him when no one else saw what he saw? They couldn’t see it, couldn’t feel how the hallucinations had made him feel, then it couldn’t be real.

Now, he’d somehow finally managed to do what he had always thought possible. To show someone what it was he was seeing, and Michael still didn’t believe him. Dean didn’t know what else to do. He wanted to tell Michael to fuck off and prove it to himself. To go see for himself whether or not Samuel was “save and sound” as the angel insisted if he didn’t believe Dean.

Then Michael was telling him to ask Samuel... and Dean felt his chest tighten all the more with pain. Most of the time all he felt was that cold icy emptiness along the bond between him and Samuel. How Dean had always felt before he first felt Samuel speak to him in the moments before his death. How it had felt every time Dean closed the link between them. How it had felt when Samuel had been close to dying from Cain’s attack. How he had felt when Samuel had crossed that barrier into hell, trying to rescue the angel that had been trapped there. That was another reason why Dean was sure that’s where Sam had been sent.

He only got the faintest glimpses of what Sam was experiencing, except when Dean slept. Then, like Samuel had once pulled him into the dream they shared, the first time Sam had made love to him, he could see and feel everything.

Dean closed his eyes, and tried anyway. What did he really have to lose? He’d already lost everything. Maybe if he proved it to Michael then the angel would not interfere again when Dean tried to end his life a third time and go to Samuel. Third time was the charm...

The young man pushed at the cold dark barrier as hard as he could, his head felt like it was splitting in two from the effort, and he felt a warm drop of crimson spill from his nose from the effort. Pain and despair washed over him, even worse than what he’d felt in his dreams, and Dean knew he’d succeeded.

Samuel...

Dean felt the hot tears on his face, knew that Michael was watching him sob, but he didn’t care.

With effort, Dean repeated the foreign words that Michael had told him to ask Samuel.

Samuel’s head slammed against the wall, but he continued to refuse to look Gabriel in the eyes, refused to look at his face. The archangel had not taken kindly to being told it was because Sam did not want to see he monster who’d replaced his friend. In a moment of weakness, he’d broken his silence and railed at Gabriel, told him he was worse than Cain... at least Cain was a stranger, and enemy, Gabriel’s conduct was a betrayal. Now he was paying for it.

Something, a warm sensation wormed its way through Sam’s apathy. Eyes closed, he frowned, he knew this feeling. And then there was warmth and love and fear for him and desperation. There was Dean’s voice inside his head.

He wasn’t supposed to be there, but Sam had never been able to stop him. The only thing he could do was try to mask his situation, try to protect Dean from it. Still, his lover’s presence drew a smile from him, the first genuine smile since he’d been confined to this solitary hell.

“You laugh, you laugh at me?” Gabriel asked, eyes blazing at his own failure to consummate the sex act he craved, and Samuel’s mockery. He backhanded Samuel, again, and again, punishing him for not giving to him what he gave to Dean, for not giving him the release he needed, sure that a little effort would do it.

The wall shook with the force of Sam’s face striking it, but he still smiled. He heard is lover’s question, knew... understood he was with Michael, safe. And even though he couldn’t... wouldn’t break another vow by answering, he found a moment of happiness that Gabriel could not touch.

* * *

Michael watched Dean for a long time, then stood up. “Enough.” Grabbing some tissues from the table across the room, he returned and wiped Dean’s nose and face free of blood and tears, touching his forehead and this time forcing some calmness.

If Dean had an answer from Samuel, he would have blurted it out by now instead of sitting there, looking miserable and angry.

“I believe you.” Michael’s voice boomed in the small room, his eyes, usually calm, were lit with emotion. “Samuel would not break his agreement to solitary confinement, he... I always thought he was the most honorable among us.”

He started to pace. “I don’t know where he is being held, and I don’t want to believe what you say about his treatment. I have seen many things Dean,” he turned and looked at him. “I know you’re not lying to me, but what you think is the truth... that may be a lie. Just as you, in your heart truly believed that Samuel is in hell, and that you could join him there. So don’t get... don’t give me your attitude, you can be wrong,” he nodded.

A few steps later, he stopped again. “I’ll get you out of here, to you place. You will not get into any further trouble or so help me...” his jaw pulsed. “I’ll see what I can find out from Gabriel, and then we will talk again.”

Samuel… please answer me… please… Dean begged softly into his lover’s mind, but he knew that Sam wouldn’t. Sam had only reached out to him when Dean had slit his wrists, when he had been bleeding to death on the cold tile floor of the bathroom. Sam was trying to pull away from him, even now. Trying to mask the pain he was feeling… but Dean could still feel it.

He could also feel… Sam’s happiness… and that only made Dean sob harder. Then the connection was broken when Michael spoke and broke his concentration.

Dean opened his eyes when he felt the angel wiping off his face and touch his forehead. He felt the sense of calm wash over him, knew it was artificial, only coming from Michael, but right now it was welcome. Since Dean felt like he was coming apart at the seams.

Michael believed him… but the angel still thought he was wrong… that he was crazy. That it was all just in his twisted head, like he wanted to imagine these things being done to his lover… Or hell, maybe Michael thought something else was putting these things into his head. Cain? Cain had gotten into his head before… but somehow he didn’t think so. He knew, he just knew, what he was seeing, feeling, from Samuel was real.

But Michael insisted that Sam was not in hell. Where was he then? Gabriel… Dean’s eyes widened in understanding, what Michael meant when he said betrayal… The young man felt fury burn through him to rival the fires of hell. Gabriel. Not some demon. Gabriel was doing this to Sam. Torturing Sam. Raping… The dream Dean had woken from came back to him suddenly in crystal clarity.

Trouble? Oh no, Dean wasn’t going to get into any ‘trouble’ once Michael got him out of here. What he was going to do was find out where Sam was. He was going to get Sam back, god damn it. No matter what it took. He’d tear this whole god damned planet apart if he had to. Then he was going to find out how to kill a fucking angel.

[One Week Later]

Michael landed right behind Dean in the dark alley and tapped him on the shoulder, moving quickly away before Dean attempted to strike him. He knew about hunter reactions, and this one was probably the touchiest of them all. When Dean turned his face toward him, for an instant, Michael was transported back to that moment in the hospital when Dean had kissed him. Warmth flushed through Michael's system and he had to look away and take a cool breath of air to clear his thoughts.

The angel pulled himself together. "You're right. I think Gabriel is... he's not right in the head. Something's happened. I wish I could blame possession or..." he choked on his words, wanting to come to Gabriel's defense, to make Dean understand that century upon century, he'd fought by Gabriel's side, that they were brothers, all of them, that they had good times, and hard fought battles between them. It... this was difficult for him to accept.

Swallowing, he took a deep breath and paced away, hiding his face from Dean. "I think I know where he is being held. I had some help digging. Others have noticed... Gabriel's absences," he shook his head, knowing from Dean what Gabriel was likely doing. "He..." This was difficult for him to say. "He's taken to staying in the room... in your quarters, where we found you. I..."

True to his word Michael had gotten him out of the hospital before the next day and brought him home, but Dean had not stayed there long. Practically as soon as the angel had left he was up despite the order of bed rest for at least a few days. Dean had already wasted enough time. Three months. He'd wallowed and felt sorry for himself, when he should have been doing something. He should have been trying to get Samuel back. Instead he had left him…

He hadn't known, there was no way he could have known, he had thought Sam was completely beyond his reach, in hell… But that didn't matter. Dean knew he would never forgive himself.

Dean had showered and dressed. That had been hard. The bathroom was still covered in dried blood, but there wasn't much he could do about that right now because he didn't want to waste time cleaning it up. He'd gone to Bobby's then and though the older man had hugged him tightly he had also yelled and looked like he'd wanted to kill him himself. Bobby had obviously heard what Dean had done.

Dean told Bobby everything then. What he thought was happening to Sam… and the older man looked like he aged about ten years while Dean spoke. He told Bobby his plan to try to get Samuel back and take out that betraying bastard of an angel if he had the chance in the process. Of course Bobby thought he was mad, but agreed to help him. Samuel was his friend too, after all.

Over the next few days Dean threw himself back into hunting. Not to save people, his reasons were purely personal this time. He needed information and one way or another he was going to get it. Dean had been tracking down a source, rumors of a gun that could kill anything, when Michael found him that night.

The young man's hand had already been on the trigger of his concealed weapon when he felt the light touch from behind and turned, his eyes narrowed, practically blazing. Though they softened immediately when he saw it was only Michael and lowered the his gun. The look on the angel's face wasn't very comforting…

But when Michael said he might know where Sam was being held, Dean felt a faint hope blossom in his chest for the first time in what felt like forever. Michael didn't need to elaborate. His room… their room… when they had stayed at Gabriel's home. The last place he and Sam had made love before… It was twisted and wrong in so many ways it made him feel sick and like he wanted to scream at the same time, but he reigned in his emotions. With difficulty.

"Where is Samuel? There?" Dean could hope, but he had a feeling it couldn't possibly be that easy.

"Are you alright?" Ignoring the question, Michael asked Dean. He looked... perhaps less physically ill than he had in resent months, though still gaunt, but there was a certain fire in him that Michael had not seen in a long time, since Australia. He searched Dean's face, and took a deep breath. It was as if the hunter within Dean had awakened. "Welcome back," he smiled, and even slapped Dean on the shoulder in the way of the humans.

Looking around the alley and allowing his sense to make certain they weren't being watched, he answered the question burning in Dean's eyes. "I'm not certain, but I believe he is being held in an Aztec pyramid that is still undiscovered by humans and is buried deep in the earth. It abuts a mountain, and there is a way in through a tunnel." He let his words sink in, and having felt first hand this man's love for Samuel, he knew that having said this much, he would be forced to tell him the rest and that nothing... nothing short of death would prevent Dean from trying to reach Sam.

"I tried to see him." Yes it would have violated many rules, but he'd thought about it long and hard and decided the rules didn't apply when an angel as powerful as Gabriel might be off the rails. His fists closed into tight balls as he shook his head. "The entrance was warded, no angels but for Gabriel can tread in there. None." He ran his hand through his longish dark hair. "I know what you are going to ask me, but how can I take you there and leave you alone... not watch over you. It would go against Samuel's last wishes."

Dean would have accused Michael for purposefully side stepping his question if he hadn’t come to believe, really believe, that the angel did care about his well being. Not just as a favor to Samuel, or because Samuel had been Michael’s friend for centuries. Michael cared about him. He could see it in the angel’s eyes.

But while Dean was touched by the concern, whether or not he was ‘all right’ really didn’t matter. What was he going to do? Go home and ‘rest’ while he knew that his lover was being tortured and raped by a psychotic angel? No. So Dean certainly wasn’t going to tell Michael that he sometimes felt so weak he could barely stand, his hands shook, and had dizzy spells from months of nearly starving himself, lack of sleep, and his recent suicide attempt.

Dean managed to return Michael’s smile with a tight one of his own however.

A pyramid? Aztec… that meant south western United States somewhere. Not far at all. Not across the globe and not in some other dimension like Gabriel’s home. So damned close… a knife of guilt twisted even deeper into Dean’s gut but he pushed the feeling aside so he could concentrate on what Michael was telling him. So, Michael had tried to go there and couldn’t get past the barrier, but there was a chance Dean could if he went alone. The pompous prick probably never considered a mere human might be able to find Samuel…

Dean almost smiled when Michael told him why he didn’t want to leave Dean to face Gabriel alone. He knew by now of course that was only part of the reason.

“I think if Samuel had known what was going to happen to him, his last wishes would have been a hell of a lot different.” Dean finally said and sighed heavily. Leaning against the wall and looking up at the starry sky above. He wanted to tell Michael to take him there now, but Dean knew he couldn’t just walk in there without any means to protect himself. He wasn’t going to be any good to Samuel dead. And while he’d managed to knock Gabriel on his ass once with his powers, he didn’t really trust them now when he was already so damned weak to begin with.

“I’m going to kill him, you know. Gabriel. I’m not going to let him get away with this. I’m not going to give him the chance to hurt Samuel again.” Dean finally said softly with all the casualness as though he were commenting on the weather. Then he turned to look at Michael directly. “Bobby heard from another hunter who heard from a contact about a gun that can supposedly kill anything. The contact apparently frequents the 66 Club. I’m going there now.”

Apparently the 66 Club was some kind of secret underground cult meeting place. Its clientele was just about anything that went bump in the night, from witches and vampires to demons. While there was a ‘law’ of neutrality, meaning anyone and anything could enter and leave unharmed… hunters weren’t exactly welcome. It was said a few hunters had gone in and come out just to be torn to shreds right outside the entrance after leaving. Of course, Bobby didn’t want him to go. But it wasn’t like there was a wide variety of options for means of killing an angel.

“You’re welcome to come with me if you want.”

Michael was deeply troubled by Dean's words. They weren't just words, the angel knew that Dean meant every word. He knew how driven this young man could be and that once he had a goal, it was difficult to change his mind.

"You cannot kill an angel of the Lord." He grabbed Dean's forearm, and cocked his head to the side. "Listen to me. If by some miracle we get Samuel out, you and he will have to be on the run, do you understand that? If you kill an angel, even those of us who would not bother to hunt you... every last one of us will be on your ass so fast you won't know what hit you. And when you die, you will go straight to hell... and you will leave Samuel in a hell of your making. If you stop and think, you will realize that is counterproductive... just like killing yourself would have been."

Yes, he was harsh, but he'd found that soft words did not get through to Dean Winchester. He needed to be approached with the stark truth.

"I'll come with you, we'll get this ... this gun, but it is for anything you may have to face in the pyramid. I don't know what types of defenses he's installed, think of... the minautor in the labrynth, that sort of thing." Michael shrugged. "And... if... I show you where the temple is, I want you to take one or two hunters with you. You cannot do this alone."

Dean’s eyes narrowed at the angel in anger and he tore his arm out of Michael’s grip.

“Don’t give me that angel of the lord crap!” The young man all but growled at the angel. Anger burning in his eyes but there was pain as well. Not physical pain. It was the memory of the pain he felt from Samuel. Of all the pain and torture that his lover had gone through at Gabriel’s hands. How dare Michael try to tell him that he couldn’t kill the other angel for that? No matter what kind of angel Gabriel might have been a couple hundred years ago, he was definitely not that angel anymore. To Dean, he was worse than a demon. Worse than Cain. Because Samuel had trusted Gabriel…

“Angels don’t torture and rape people just because they are jealous! Demons do that! I’m not going to let him get away with it! And I’m certainly not going to give him the chance to do it to Samuel again!” Dean almost yelled, then he stopped, took a deep breath and continued softer but his voice was filled with no less conviction or anger.

“I told Samuel once I was willing to go to hell for him. That hasn’t changed. I’m going to put Gabriel down like the rabid dog he is one way or another. Whatever he once was, he’s not that angel anymore, and you know it. He’s like Cain now, and if he’s not, he will be soon. I’m not going to let that happen.”

Dean paused, studying Michael carefully.

“If you really believed me, like you say you do, then you wouldn’t try to stop me. I’m going to save Samuel one way or another, with or without your help. I’m going to kill Gabriel, again, with or without your help. I understand we will have to be on the run. If that’s the only way we can be together, fine. But instead of trying to stop me, I’d rather you go to the other angels and tell them what is really happening. Whether or not they believe you, they need to know… in case I fail.”

Michael's eyes darkened with anger. "I know it is conduct unbecoming an angel, why do you think I'm here in the first place," he said through gritted teeth. "Bringing an angel to justice is NOT something for you to dabble with. Leave that to those of us who know what we are doing. There are channels, and it takes time, but there is a right way to do it."

He could see the rebellion in Dean's eyes and pointed at him. "You are arrogant and impatient. You think you know everything, but you don't. Isn't that why Samuel is where he is right now?" he demanded. "You thought your way was best, that you could get away with anything, that your what... twenty something years of knowledge trumped Samuel's thousand of years of experience?"

Michael knew Samuel had to have been catering to Dean, that Sam would not have been caught if not for the prodding by his ward. Dean had admitted bits and pieces, but even without his own admissions, just knowing the characters of the angel and the hunter, Michael knew how it had come down. "You didn't listen to Samuel, now you won't listen to me. All I'm telling you is that you kill Gabriel and you defeat what I assume is your main purpose, to be with Samuel. If that's what you want, have at it," he sliced his hand through the air in disgust. "Running from imprisonment will be hard enough, but running from murder.... your life and Samuel's will be as hellish as his life is right now, by your own hand."

He turned his head slightly. "There is activity in the west. I may be called. Until then, let's go to this club of yours." With a thought, he changed into jeans and a tee shirt.

Dean barely managed to keep from flinching as though Michael had punched him when the angel flat out blamed him for what was happening to Samuel right now. As though Dean hadn’t already been blaming himself enough, to be reminded of it so bluntly…

Fine, he was arrogant. Yes, he was impatient. Of course, this was all his fault.

But that didn’t change Dean’s mind. Gabriel had to die. The ‘justice’ of angels certainly hadn’t helped Samuel so far. Michael didn’t admit it, but if there was any chance at all the other angels would have believed what Gabriel was doing to Samuel, he would have told someone already. Gabriel might be strong, but he wasn’t as strong as all the other angels put together. But Michael knew no one would believe any accusations against Gabriel. There would be no justice against Gabriel. So what was he supposed to do? Just let Gabriel live so that the other angel could hunt them down? So he could send the other angels to hunt them down anyway, kill him, and take Samuel back and do all the horrible things to him that Gabriel was doing to him now?

No.

He was a hunter. He was going to do what hunters did best. Kill monsters. Protect people. Right now, the monster was Gabriel, and Dean was going to protect the person he loved most damn it.

Maybe Gabriel would kill him and it wouldn’t even be an issue. Maybe he would succeed, kill the angel, and then the other angels would kill him. Maybe he deserved that… for allowing what was happing to Samuel, for being the cause of his lover’s suffering now… Maybe going to hell was his rightful punishment all along. As long as Samuel was safe, as long as Gabriel could never hurt him again… Dean was willing to pay any price for that. He was willing to accept any punishment. Even if it meant he’d never see Samuel again.

“I’ll do this alone. Goodbye Michael.” Dean finally said softly, and didn’t wait for the angel to reply before he turned around and started walking in the opposite direction. No matter how this turned out he had a feeling he would never see the angel again.

Stretching his arms out, Michael sent electric heat out his fingertips. The entire alley was lit with a bluish white light. Images flashed on the wall, images of Samuel being ripped to shreds, skin, flesh, muscle and bone separately peeled off him as he shouted helplessly.

"THAT is the penalty for an angel involved in any way in the execution of another angel. Your love for Samuel is a selfish love, not as pure as I'd thought, if you would risk that to appease your base need for vengeance." Michael spoke in an even voice.

The bluish light faded, and so did Michael.

Dean stood there for a long time in that dark alley. His hands clenched into fists and his head bowed. The images Michael had forced upon him dancing behind his closed eyes and the angel’s last words ringing in his ears.

Selfish… fine… add that to the long list of his sins.

If the angel was trying to scare him, fine, it was working. So what was Michael trying to tell him? That was why Samuel wasn’t even trying to fight back against Gabriel? Because if he did some kind of holier than thou bastards would rip him apart if he dared to do something like defend himself?

The more he learned about angels lately, the more he hated them. What, they never heard of extenuating circumstances? They never heard of self defense? Stupid fucking rules…

Dean would never risk that kind of harm upon Sam, but he would do what he had to. If Gabriel was there when he went to get Samuel, he was going to take the bastard down. He wasn’t just going to stand there and let Gabriel kill him, and like he told Michael, he wasn’t going to let Gabriel hurt Sam again. No matter what.

If what Michael showed him was going to be Dean’s fate… he’d accept that. It was obvious that Dean was working on his own. Samuel wouldn’t be blamed for Gabriel’s death. Dean would make sure of that when the angels came for him. Maybe it was a good thing in the end that Michael wasn’t going to help him. He certainly didn’t want the angel ‘implicated’ in Gabriel’s death.