A/N: Hello, all! :D This fic is a sequel to my other story, Where They Don't Belong. There will be several references to it, but I've tried to write this in a way that you don't necessarily have to have read that one first :) A few house-keeping items: number 1, I don't own SPN or any of the canon characters.

Number 2, this is set during season 5 as an AU, and there will be several times where actual dialogue is taken from the show and incorporated in :)

Huge thanks to Aini NuFire for the assistance. Enjoy this nice little teaser!

Prologue

An old chieftan was teaching his grandson about life. He said to his grandson, "There are two wolves that live in each of us. One is evil. It is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, and ego. The other is good. It is joy, peace, love, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. These two wolves battle daily, and sometimes the fight is very terrible."

The grandson looked at his grandfather in alarm, and asked, "But which wolf wins?"

The old Cherokee smiled and simply replied, "The one you feed."

From the outside perspective, it probably looked like just another day in the life of a hunter.

A bad day in the life of a hunter.

Dean hit the ground hard, with no way of breaking his fall. The wind was knocked clear out of him, and he gasped for breath. If only his hands were free, at least he'd have a snowball's chance of defending himself! But they were bound tightly, lashed behind his back, and the ropes refused to give.

Already, he could feel blood dripping down his arms as he fought to get free, seeing his attacker storming over, reaching for him. Dean growled and tried to roll out of the way, but it was a futile act from the start. He shouted in pain as a hand grabbed hold of his short strands of hair, the other hand seizing his bound wrists and hoisting him up, ready to throw.

Shit, this was going to hurt…

The wall was absolutely solid, and when Dean crashed into it, he knew something had broken. His collarbone? Maybe a rib? He couldn't even pinpoint the site of the pain; it felt like his entire body was on fire! Dean groaned as he slid down to the floor. Again, he futilely looked for a way out, trying to crawl without the use of his hands out of the line of fire.

"Cas," Dean prayed in a whisper, needing the angel more than ever. If only his angel could come to his aid, but there was no answer. "Cas… please… Cas!"

With his hands tied behind him, of course, trying to crawl out of the way was basically a ludicrous idea. He was getting nowhere, and every movement made his broken – rib? Collarbone? – flare up even hotter in agony. For a moment, Dean forgot about himself, thanking the stars above that at least Sam wasn't here.

If he didn't get out of here – which it was looking more and more like he wouldn't – he was going to need Sam to finish what they'd started.

And he was going to need Sam to take care of Cas.

"Cas," Dean tried again, praying with all his might. He needed his friend, needed him now. "Cas!"

God, he hurt all over.

Somewhere close by, Dean could hear Lucifer laughing quietly, enjoying the hunter's pain. Dean was certain his death would be even more enjoyable to the devil, and he took a minute to hope it didn't make Sammy or Cas do anything reckless.

Dean knew by now that there was no use praying, but he had no other options; it wasn't like he could fight back. "Cas," he prayed, hoping against hope that he could somehow reach the angel. "Cas, please… come on, Cas, damn it! Cas!"

Just as he'd thought: useless. Dean was out of time, his attacker standing over him now with a terrible expression that told Dean there was still more pain to come. The posture and positioning was threatening and fierce, as Dean's gaze rose to meet his attacker's.

He gulped. There was nothing in those eyes but blind rage. Furtively, Dean tugged at the ropes tying his hands, but once again they refused to yield. This was going to hurt…

"You have no right," his attacker hissed, looming over Dean as the hunter curled up slightly on the floor to try and present a smaller target and protect himself. "What you did to me…"

Pleadingly, Dean looked up at his attacker, shaking his head frantically.

"Cas, no!" he yelled, though he knew the angel was far, far beyond reason or prayers. "Please, look at me! It's me, it's Dean!"

But the foot that connected ferociously with his stomach with the force of an angel, taking out another rib, proved that it was too late. There was no stopping Castiel now.