"I can't believe it didn't work," Michael ranted again, a bitter note in his voice. He was pacing back and forth where I was sitting on the floor, cross legged.

"Well, what did you expect?" I asked him. "Dean is as stubborn as a mule, and doesn't trust Zachariah for the life of him," I continued then paused.

Michael stopped pacing, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "What are your ideas then? Because I know you don't want us to use torture again," he snapped at me.

I ignored the glare he was giving me and answered, "Just use my vessel. It'll be a little uncomfortable because he's not as powerful as Dean, but at least you'll be down on Earth." As I said this I nudged my hand at our scenery. Which was merely a snow white floor, and white skies as far as the eye could see.

Michael rolled his light brown eyes at me, and started pacing once more.

I sighed, Michael's stubbornness beginning to frustrate me. "I know my vessel doesn't have the husky voice you've always wanted, but let's face it, Dean's not going to say yes," I told him irritably.

Obviously I had hit a soft spot, because Michael's normally pasty white face turned bright red. In all normality, if I wasn't his best friend, he would have… Made me regret what I had said to him.

"If I took yours, you wouldn't have a human to go into," Michael said softly.

"I don't need to be on Earth for the Apocalypse," I replied with a snort. Michael didn't answer and continued to pace.

That's it, I thought and stood up from where I was sitting.

"Where are you going?" Michael asked me, and stopped walking again.

"I'm going out to do plan B," I reported to him in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone.

Michael frowned. "There is no plan B," he said to me flatly.

I let out an other sigh. "It's my plan, if yours doesn't work," I said.

He cocked an eyebrow. "You're going out to find Dean yourself? I know that you are the best at finding people, but Castiel did something to him so he can't be found by what appears to be any angel. And, we can't do anything about that until we find out what he did to him," Michael told me.

I put on a smug expression and shrugged my shoulders slightly. "I'm not necessarily going out to find him," I replied to him slowly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"What? I, uh, have to go," I said in a fast voice, not wanting to tell Michael my true intensions. Before he could stop me, I appeared on Earth.

It took me only a few moments to find where my vessel was once I was back on Earth. Trenton, New Jersey. I appeared in his kitchen and saw him sitting at the table, eating what looked to be Spaghetti O's.

The kid was only nineteen years old, had milky white skin, shaggy dark brown hair and light gray eyes.

I stood there for a few moments, not letting myself be seen by him. The nice part about being the messenger of God, instead of just a minor once, is that I could trick people's mind into seeing me for a few minutes without a vessel, among other things. It was easier however, to do things on Earth with one.

After a few seconds of watching, I walked over so that I was behind him, squatted down and whispered in his ear softly, "Ian."

His head shot over to where I was. However, he obviously didn't see anything, because he turned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment.

"It's just stress," He mumbled to himself, and reopened his eyes. Although this time, he could see something in the corner of his eye, me. He didn't turn his head back to me though; he just sat there very still, almost like he was hoping that my image would go away.

"It's not stress, Ian," I told him, then walked over to the chair across from him, and sat in it.

Ian looked at me with a dumfounded look written all over his face.

"You're not going crazy either," I reassured him. "I'm just here because I need to speak with you."

"Who are you?" he asked me, a nervous look in his eyes.

I waited a moment or two before answering. "An angel," I said to him. "You may have heard of me before," I continued then paused. "Gabriel."