Two nights after Dean and Castiel made Raphael their little bitch, Dean's phone rings in the middle of the night. The sound is alarmingly loud in the quiet room and Dean wishes he had thought to lower the volume the night before. The motel is like any of the others he's stayed in over the years: old, boxy television, crappy bathroom, weird wallpaper, King James Bible, odd smells, but only one bed, one bag. It's a bit lonely, but he has the women he can pick up without having to worry about bringing them back to the motel and the porn he can watch whenever he wants. And Castiel, of course. Plus, it's nice to be able to walk out of the shower naked and jerk off in the middle of the room whenever he pleases.

The ringing seems to grow louder as if it knows he's trying to ignore it. Dean sighs and blindly reaches out to flip open his phone and hold it loosely to his ear without opening his eyes.

"What?" he growls.

"Dean."

"Why are you calling me at," Dean pries his eyes open for a few seconds to glance at the alarm clock sitting on the motel bedside table, "Three in the morning, Cas?"

"I found something."

Dean sits up and switches on the light, blinking as his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness. "What do you mean you 'found something?' Like, God something?"

"Meet me at the abandoned warehouse down the road."

"Um, okay… Whoa, wait a sec," Dean says before Castiel can hang up, "You're not planning on fighting any other angels, are you? Because I recall that not working so well for you last time."

Castiel chuckles darkly on the other, "Not so well, no. I'm not planning on it."

"Good," Dean hangs up and runs a hand across his face, "Coffee. Then nerdy angel."

~.~.~.~

The warehouse is dark and quiet and, obviously, abandoned. He can see some rats scurrying about behind the old machinery, but no sign of Castiel.

Shouting seems out of place here, so he softly calls, "Cas?"

Dean hears something to his right, so he rounds a corner and comes face-to-face with a man who is definitely not Castiel. Dean practically leaps backwards and has his gun out and pointed at the stranger in seconds.

"Who are you?"

The stranger slowly emerges from the shadows, "Don't you recognize me, Dean? Shame, your memory seems to be failing you."

Dean's hands tighten on his gun, though he knows it will do him no good, "Raphael."

"I told you I'd be back."

"What do you want?"

Raphael steps forward and Dean automatically steps back, "Revenge, I suppose."

Dean frowns, "Then why didn't you call Cas here?" Not that he isn't grateful that he isn't here, but things aren't adding up.

"Because Castiel doesn't care about himself," Raphael says, "He risked his life to ask if I know where our Father is. He does, however, seem to care about you."

Dean lowers his gun, "You can't kill me. You need me alive so I can say yes to Michael."

"Yes, but as long as your heart beats and your throat works, Michael can't really complain."

Dean can feel prickly static electricity raising the hairs on his arms.

"Well," Raphael says, "I suppose you could always nod."

The archangel smiles and Dean knows he's screwed.