Two weeks. Thats how long since Dean and Cas ganked Dick. The world was still a mess, 'Killing' Dick may have stopped dinner time, but humanity was still recovering from the set up. A demon called Bronson took over Richard Roman Enterprises and Sucrocorp changing all of the leviathans recipes back to normal. This meant Crowley had plans. Which meant trouble. Sam hadn't been sleeping properly, which didn't surprise him in the slightest. He spent his days and nights in the campbell book collection and scouring what remained of Bobby's archive for information on purgatory. Kevin, whom after everything decided to stick around, had been helping him. As it happened he spoke almost as many languages, both alive and dead, as Bobby had. They had found only one scrap of hope. It was desperate at best. It was four weeks and eight hunts later before Sam needed to call for help. To his dismay there was only one man who would even pick up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey its me, I need your help."

"Anything for the Winchesters, whats up?"

"We ganked Leviathan, or rather, sent them back to purgatory."

"I'm guessing something went wrong?"

"Dean and Cas got sucked through."

"Well, that is bad, where do you need me?"

"Omaha."

"Roger that, Garth is en route."

Sam had a feeling he would live to regret calling Garth. Moreover he was worried he wouldn't.

Dean lost track of time quickly. The days were long but the nights were worse. He hadn't seen Cas since he arrived in Purgatory. He frequently muttered about the 'freaking angel' as he hunted in the day. Shelter and food were by no means in short supply, however predators were far more abundant. Every soul is a monster here. Corporeal, fully formed and terrifying. Contrary to his expectations the Dragons were rather indifferent to his presence, soaring as they did high in the blackened sky. During the first day a nagging sense of observation dogged him, one that never really left. He realized quickly that Leviathan were not the only old ones here. An ominous figure had been stalking him for a while now. No attack, threat or even approach was made by the entity. Normally Dean would gank first ask questions later, but with only one magazine it payed to spare ammo when possible.

Castiel watched silently. He heard every whisper, saw every monster. He and the silent being watched Dean together from afar. Even Cas could not explain what creature shared his interest in Dean. On the few occasions he tried to approach it vanished into nothing but smoke and shadows. It was oddly worrying to find something an angel could not chase. Cas was still replaying the first day in his head. Hiding. Ignoring Deans pleas. Weeping at his insults. The wound never healed. Every time he tried to help. Every time they would win. So long as he was involved the winchesters stood to end worse than before. After Dean managed his first kill, a vampire soul, and discovered the meat was safe his mind was eased somewhat. He could not bare to show himself, but by no means did that prevent him herding creatures from Deans shelter. As the days became weeks time seemed to slow for him. He had never felt so helpless, never imagined it was possible.

In the shadows of purgatory the lone observer pondered the new entities. Physical beings should not inhabit this plane. It must be mistaken. Moving in smoke it traveled with haste to the far edge of the lands. The journey was quick but urgency still overtook the being. It arrived at a stone archway. An ancient crossing point that existed since the beginning. A raised arm from the being summoned light into the threshold and opened a doorway. A doorway very few creatures knew of and which even fewer could activate. The being stepped through slowly. It hated the other side.

People see what they want to see. Even in spite of what is staring them in the face. To this end no one thought anything of the unnatural level of rain one summer morning in California. Nor did they pay any attention to the complete lack of cell phone reception in a one mile radius of a breakfast diner at 8am. However this was fortunate for those responsible. It meant there were no hunters in the immediate area.

A pale Cadillac pulled up outside this diner. No one gave it a second glance. Nor did they pay any attention to the brandless custom motorcycle already parked there. Neither did the driver of the Cadillac, the passenger however was somewhat pleased. It meant his associate was already waiting.

Leaping from the car the driver opened an umbrella for his superior and awaited him exiting the car. He did so on cue, taking the shelter from his aid and approaching the diner door. As he entered he passed the umbrella back to his aid who returned to the car to wait.

She had been waiting for him all morning. Admittedly she had arrived early but it was of no great inconvenience. She called the waiter and requested another glass of fresh orange be brought to the table. Sipping on her own as he approached she pondered human form. Hers was chosen out of convenience, his was by choice. Sickly thin and ever aged, and yet never a day older. Shirt, tie and cane. She expected nothing less. Yet she had changed so much over the years. Even so much as to not always be 'she'. The thin pale man smiled politely and took his seat across from her. She half-heartidly smiled back. This was business not pleasure.

"I'm so glad you could meet me on such short notice my dear."

"You said it was important, I assumed you meant it." she said back to him. She ran a hand through her messy black hair nervously. Only he made her nervous. He surveyed her for a moment. Leather jacket, dark jeans and heavy boots. "You used to be more subtle." he remarked taking a short sip of his drink. Her reply was simple. "Subtle used to mean sophisticated, now it just means unnoticed. "Why are we here?"

"you know why."

"If I knew I wouldn't be asking."

He sighed disappointed in her. "You know we don't interfere, as far as possible. At this juncture I am inclined to insist that you do. It's the gateway, you must have felt it." He called the waiter and ordered the special of the day. She looked sullenly to him. "I knew something was different in the air, does it mean he's back?" He looked at her apologetically. "I'm afraid it does, which is problematic. He only comes when something is wrong there. He hasn't checked in yet." he paused sipping again at his drink, it was slightly to sweet for him. "I can only assume the upset caused by the Leviathans escape and return have something to do with it." She slammed her fist on the table. "I warned you all! Exile was not enough, look what he caused!" He looked angry with her. "He has grown stronger, we'll need your little gun of we want a hope to stop him now." The color drained from her face, how could he know?. "Yes I know about that. I know you helped samuel build the Colt the Winchesters used on Azazel. I also know you both made a gun that night. Yours however is significantly more powerful. As it happens what was it like tearing a demons soul apart?" She hung her head in defeat. 'The Colt' was a gun legendary amongst hunters for not only being able to kill almost anything, but for destroying the soul in the process, no buy backs. What they didn't know and apparently he did was that the flash of lightening that erupts through a targets body when shot was her. Being instantly called to action to destroy the soul. "Interesting to say the least. So you know mine doesn't require a soul to destroy?" he nodded. "So you want me to kill the Exile?" again he nodded and his food arrived. "And the Winchesters? What about them?" finishing a mouthful of food he replied. "If he gets wind you are involved the will speed up hid plans. I want you to pose as a hunter. Hopefully he wont recognize you until it is too late." She nodded and stood to leave. "Oh and Grim my dear. I'm going out of town, you'll be on your own." She chuckled to herself. "Deaths outta town and I'm hunting something that can't be killed. Just my luck." She left on her motorcycle while Death continued to eat. His meeting was not yet over.

A young man sat opposite him in the booth and called the waitress now passing to bring him coffee. "Stopping the Exile isn't enough, we need to deal with the guests." he said plainly to Death. "I know. Thank you for reporting them to me so quickly. An angel and Dean stuck in Purgatory is dangerous. How was the crossing as it goes?" The young man smiled back. "As tiresome as ever, you know I hate leaving. Oh and call me Jonah." To avoid confusion amongst them despite he and his partner both being referred to as 'Grim' he usually had another name. "Same as always, Jonah.. I like it." Death finished his meal and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Well Jonah she doesn't know about Dean yet or your involvement. But she knows how these things work and she's no mortal child, so one would assume she expects you. Follow her to Sam and rendezvous with her there. You were always less obvious as a pair and far more powerful." He nodded slowly. "She doesn't know does she? The Colt I mean."

"No, she does not."

"Shame, she will be disappointed, she has never needed it before."

"I know, which is where you step in."

"Understood, I assume by out of town you are going to see him."

"Yes."

"Then good luck to us both."

The Golden Ibis hotel was so motel Sam regretted checking in. However low on sleep and options he paid for a room for three. Garth would be arriving soon. While Sam began Demon-proofing the room kevin ferried ancient texts on purgatory, hell and everything between from the Impala. According to an extract Kevin had found the previous week, Omaha contained a weak point between Purgatory and Earth. One Sam hoped to exploit. A car backfired outside and a whining voice complained loudly. Garth had definitely arrived. Sam walked out to welcome him. "Hey Garth how you been?" he began only to find the short mans weedy arms firmly wrapped around his waist. "Sam! Good to see you bro!" he beamed up at Sam. How the hapless hunter managed to be so irrationally chipper always bugged him. "Hey… Hey Garth… Long time." he responded patting his back uncomfortably until he released him. "Yeah, been busy with my lady friend, spending time with the twins is great, hunting has been quiet though." he continued, still smiling. Sam smiled politely back and led him inside. "Garth this is Kevin, Kevin this is another hunter, Garth." the pair shook hands and settled down. "So Sam, whats the deal? Why are we in Omaha?" Garth queried soon after.

This was going to be hard to explain. But Sam was confident they would understand.

"There has always been a lot of monster activity in Omaha. That coupled with the info Kevin found about this areas link to Purgatory gave me the idea to look into summoning rituals. What I found was…" he trailed off to display a book to them. "this, by Kevins translation it forms a sort of hell gate. Only for Purgatory, now even formed it requires the gatekeeper, here." he flicked the page to an old illustration of a cloaked figure. "from what I can tell once summoned this 'gatekeeper' can free Dean and Castiel." Garth and Kevin nodded slowly.

"But why would this guy help us?" Kevin asked.

"Because once summoned the ritual has to be reversed for him to return, and that has to be done by those who summoned him."

"You want to blackmail this guy Sam?" Garth followed on.

"I don't have a better plan."