"Welcome home, Sammy," Gabriel said, arms spreading wide to encompass their new surroundings.

"Don't call me that," Sam snapped, looking around with a scowl. Everywhere he turned there were plush cushions and fine silks and little crystal bowls filled with every type of candy Sam could imagine - and not a few he'd never seen before.

"Forgive me, Samuel, no offense intended," Gabriel laughed, unaffected by Sam's foul temper.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away an impending headache. "Sam," he said, "it's just Sam."

"Sam," Gabriel agreed easily, snapping a lollipop into existence with his fingers. Why he didn't just grab some of the already available candy Sam didn't know - showing off he supposed. "What do you think?"

Sam looked around at the ridiculous rich surroundings again. Not bad, not to his tastes, but not bad. "It's not what I expected," Sam admitted finally.

"You were expecting clouds?" Gabriel asked.

Sam shrugged, "Or bars."

Gabriel laughed out loud - a pleasant, joyful sound to Sam's surprise. "In Heaven, most humans see what they expect to see. I wonder if you would have seen bars made of extra strength clouds?"

"Why don't I?" Sam asked, natural curiosity overcoming anger and nerves.

"Maybe we're not in Heaven." Gabriel raised an eyebrow with a smirk.

Sam rolled his eyes, making Gabriel laugh again. "A powerful enough angel can enforce their vision on humans and lesser angels," Gabriel said. Sam would have liked to think that he was showing off again, but it was obvious from his tone of voice that Gabriel was stating a simple fact - he was clearly more than powerful enough to enforce his vision on Sam.

Sam shifted his weight from foot to foot, but didn't say anything. Dean. He had to get back to Dean.

"Where's my brother?" Sam asked. He didn't expect an honest answer, but you never knew if you didn't try.

"Rude, protective guy?" Gabriel shrugged, unconcerned. "I imagine his fine ass was given to some other 'worthy' angel."

Sam didn't like the implications of that. He gritted his teeth to keep from lashing out. "Do you know who?"

"No idea," Gabriel said, biting into his sucker. "Don't know, don't care. Not my problem."

Sam clenched his fists, but stayed back. Even if he thought he could damage the angel - which he didn't - it wouldn't help him find Dean. "What happens now?" he asked.

"Now, I go about my life like always," Gabriel said, "And you obey my every whim."

Sam glared in answer.

"Spoilsport." Gabriel pouted. "Okay, okay, just keep anyone with wings away from me, and I don't really care what you do with your own time."

"Really?" Sam asked, suspicion lacing his voice.

"Really." Gabriel turned and headed for the door. "Oh! One more thing." He stopped and turned on his heel. With a snap of his fingers, Gabriel was standing next to him again. Another snap and Sam's shirt was gone. Before Sam could form a protest Gabriel slapped a hand to Sam's chest - right over his wildly pounding heart.

"What..." Sam began, bewildered. There was a sharp blistering sensation at the point of contact and Sam was hit with a wave of emotion not his own - amusement, lust, and a bone deep sense of loneliness - and then both the emotions and the hand were gone.

"There," Gabriel said, sounding smugly satisfied, "now you're bonded to me. Don't try to escape." And with another snap of his fingers, Gabriel was gone.

When Sam gathered his nerve to look down there was an angry red raised handprint seared over his heart.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, running up to the spot from where his brother had disappeared. There was nothing there - no mark on the floor or spot on the wall - nothing. "Sam! Sammy!" Dean wasted more time than he cared to admit screaming at the walls before he took a deep breath and walked to the nearest corner.

There were no doors or windows, no way in or out that Dean could see, so he methodically paced the perimeter of the room, knocking on sections of the wall and moving furniture. Dean could feel the panic threatening to overwhelm him. He had no idea how long he looked and knocked and walked, but it was long enough to imagine all the ways in which he'd failed Sam.

Finally, desperate and scared out of his mind, Dean started to tear the room apart with his bare hands, screaming himself hoarse with his brother's name.

"Dean Winchester," a voice like gravel called. Dean swung around and found himself standing chest to chest with an angel. The first one that Dean believed was an otherworldly holy creature on sight. Peace and power radiated from the blue eyed man standing before him in an ill fitting suit and trench coat. In other circumstances, Dean might have called him beautiful.

As it was Dean didn't care what he looked like. He twisted both of his hands in the man's lapels and hauled him in. "Where the fuck is my brother you son of a bitch? No, you know what? I don't care. Take me to him or bring him back," Dean growled, "or I swear I will find a way to destroy every single one of you."

The angel looked at him with a mix of curiosity and sympathy, completely unperturbed by Dean's aggression. "The power to restore your brother to you is not mine," he said, "He doesn't belong to me."

"He doesn't belong to anyone," Dean said, shouting the words right into the new dick angels face, "he's a human being, not property."

"Human beings have been treated as property many times in your history," the other man pointed out. "Almost exclusively by other human beings."

"Not by me," Dean said, pushing the stranger away from him roughly. "Not my brother."

"Then why has he sold himself to Heaven?" the angel asked. Dean would have tried decking him on principle but he didn't detect malice in the tone, only curiosity. And there was a good chance it would have been as effective as shooting Zachariah had been.

"He didn't," Dean said, quieter now, tired in body and mind. "I don't know how the fuck this can be binding. I thought it was demons that just reached in to take whatever the hell they wanted."

"We are not allowed to take anything without consent," the angel said with absolute conviction, face scrunched up like Dean was speaking gibberish.

"Yeah, well, I only consented to stay with Sam. That asshole tricked me. And Sam didn't consent at all," Dean said at once, "Now, take me to my brother."

The angel studied him closely for a long time, making Dean feel like he was being searched - or maybe judged - but he seemed to be seriously considering Dean's words, so Dean endured it in silence.

"I see no mark on you," the angel said finally.

Dean had no idea what that meant. "I have no idea what that means," he said.

"It means that Castiel here hasn't claimed you yet," Zachariah said, appearing from nowhere just behind the other angel.

The angel - Castiel, Dean guessed - turned to face Zachariah, ridiculous trench coat billowing with the movement.

"Me?" He asked, and Dean thought he detected surprise in the angel's face.

"Of course, Castiel," Zachariah said, "this human is meant for you."

"I've done nothing to merit such a," Dean didn't miss the hesitation before Castiel chose his next word, "gift. I don't understand."

Zachariah chuckled - a fake sound that made Dean's skin crawl. "Such modesty. You found the very weapon that allowed us to acquire the boys. What else is there to understand? This human belongs to you."

Dean bristled. "Now, wait just one god damned..." Zachariah waved a hand and Dean's voice cut off. Dean raised a hand to his throat, clawing at his neck in search of the problem, but there were no marks that he could feel and no pain for that matter: he simply couldn't force out any sound.

"Zachariah," Castiel said, somehow radiating irritation without changing expression. "That was unnecessary."

"Once you've taken ownership, you may feel free to punish him however you see fit," Zachariah shrugged carelessly.

"I do not wish to own anyone. And Dean says his brother has not consented to this."

Zachariah retrieved a piece of paper from the ether again. "This contract - signed in his own blood - says otherwise." Zachariah held the document out for Dean and Castiel's inspection. "Recognize this?"

Dean did, and he clamped his mouth shut against a silent curse when he saw it. It wasn't like the contract he'd barely glanced out before signing. It was written in a language Dean didn't - hadn't - recognized. Sam hadn't either but their father had said is was a protection rite. One, he'd told Dean, that would protect Sam from the yellow eyed demon who held such a particular interest in him.

Sam had refused at first. He hadn't wanted to sign it until he could translate it for himself. But John had gotten pissed and Dean had asked his brother to 'just sign the damn thing'. Trying to stop a fight, always trying to keep his family from each other's throats these days, always trying to prevent his Sammy from leaving again, and look what it had cost him. He'd sold his brother to the archangel Gabriel just as surely as John had.

Zachariah smiled. "And now the little idiot is blaming himself for something his father did, just as you are blaming yourself for finding the Colt, Castiel," he said with glee. "See, he's perfect for you. Obedient little martyrs, the both of you."

Castiel and Dean glared at him in unison, earning them another grin from the other angel. IAngels are dicks. Nothing but loopholes and deceit/I, Dean thought at them viciously. He suspected they got the gist when Zachariah chuckled out loud and Castiel turned a curious expression his way.

"Of course if you truly don't want him that's your choice." Zachariah made Sam's contract disappear. "I'm sure Michael would love a human tribute. And this one looks just his type too." Now Zachariah's expression turned calculating. "In fact, that's probably what I should have done all along. Michael does burn through them, doesn't he?"

"No," Castiel said. His voice was still calm and level as it had always been, but the command in it was unmistakable. "If he is mine to do as I wish, I wish to set him free myself."

Dean shook his head vehemently in denial while Zachariah sighed as if Castiel was just such a disappointment that he almost couldn't bear it. "I can't allow that, Castiel. Dean's presence here is an unexpected gift from our Father. He has a purpose here even if you lack the imagination to see the potential." Zachariah paused, and the calculating look on his face made Dean shiver despite himself. "No, I should have given him to Michael in the first place. Don't bother your pretty little head with it any longer - we'll just be on our way."

Zachariah reached one hand Dean's direction, but Castiel stepped between them. "I will take him. He was given to me."

Zachariah's attention shifted back to Castiel and he scowled at him. "Now you're just being contrary. You'll never move up the ranks like that, Castiel."

"That is out of my hands, Zachariah. I wish only to serve our Father in any way He will allow."

Dean was beginning to reconsider his position on demons. At least you knew where you stood with them. If asked Dean would say he didn't believe in God. But if He existed Dean didn't like the idea that he was nothing more than a slave owner.

"My Father has been absent for a millennia, Dean," Castiel said, eyes still trained on Zachariah, "I cannot say how he would feel about this situation."

"Is that dissent I detect in your voice, Castiel?" Zachariah mocked. "Don't grow a conscience on me now." Castiel bowed his head in a gesture of subservience that Dean didn't believe for a minute, and Zachariah sighed again. "Fine, he's yours. Be sure you complete the bonding and keep him from annoying me or our brothers any more than he already has."

Between one moment and the next, Zachariah was gone.

Castiel's shoulders drooped briefly before he turned to Dean. "I... " he began, then seemed to think better of it. "Let's go home." He pressed two fingers to Dean's forehead, and there was that disconcerting rush of sound and air again.

Dean stumbled into the new location, landing on his butt on a soft green carpet. He opened his mouth to protest, but of course nothing came out. IOuch, asshole,/I he thought in Castiel's direction.

"My apologies," Castiel said at once, reaching for Dean's forehead again. Dean tried to duck but the angel was too quick for him.

"Hey," Dean complained. His hand flew up to his throat. "Hey," he repeated, just to be sure he could. Then, refusing to be grateful, he grunted "Warn a guy next time."

Castiel nodded and held out a hand to help Dean up. "My apologies again."

"I don't like people - things - anyone messing around in my head," Dean said, needlessly defensive in the face of Castiel's graciousness. Not wanting inhuman things to mess around in your head was a perfectly normal reaction. Just because angel protocol was a little different there was no reason for them to ignore the wishes of their guests.

Captives.

Slaves.

Whatever.

Dean ignored the offered help and stood up himself.

"I did not... 'mess around in your head'" Castiel said. Dean had to stifle an inappropriate urge to laugh at the stoic angel trying out his slang. "I 'messed around' in your body."

"Yeah, well stay out of my body too," Dean said, stepping back as he said it, just then realizing that they were standing too close for comfort.

Castiel continued to stare at him as if he was simultaneously the most confusing and the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. "If that is what you wish, I shall allow you to heal in the usual human manner in the future."

"Damn right you will," Dean said. "I earned everyone of these bruises and cuts." Dean swept a hand down his body to indicate the many aches and pains he'd acquired over their last hunt, only to discover he didn't actually have any more aches and pains.

A quick check of himself revealed that his missing voice wasn't the only thing Castiel had healed. His inspection revealed only perfect healthy unblemished skin. "What's this? Healing me up so only your marks are on me?"

Castiel blinked at him blankly. "We do not hurt people for no reason, Dean. No harm will come to you here."

Dean went from annoyed to blind rage in the space of a heartbeat. "Yeah? What about taking away my brother? I think that's plenty harmful. You can't just take away someone's family. IFamily/I. That word mean anything to you? Cause Sammy's mine and I want him back."

Castiel accepted Dean's tirade with no reaction that Dean could discern. "Do you know the name of the angel who has your brother?"

"What? Why?" Dean asked.

"I cannot reunite you with your brother if I don't know where he may be located."

Dean hated to look a gift horse in the mouth but history had taught him that if you didn't you were just asking to be bitten. "You'd do that? Why?

"Because you wish it," Castiel said at once, as if the answer were the obvious.

Dean snorted. "I wish we weren't freaking angel slaves, you gonna fix that?"

"You are not my slave, Dean." If Castiel could feel irritation, Dean was certain he was feeling it now judging by the dangerous way his eyes were flashing. "But you heard Zachariah. Heaven has a reason for bringing you here, and it is not my place to question that decision."

Dean shook his head in denial. "I don't want my freedom unless Sammy's comes with it, but I sure as hell can question whomever I like. Take me to whoever's running this freak show." Dean crossed his arms over his chest, gearing up for an argument.

But Castiel only shook his head. "I can not deliver you to Zachariah after I insisted that you be given to me. I fear that he would carry out his threat and give you over to Michael."

"Is that supposed to frightened me?"

Castiel hesitated. "Michael is the second eldest of us all - beautiful and glorious. But he has changed since the Morning Star's fall," Castiel said thoughtfully. Then he leveled his gaze at Dean. "Yes, I think he should frighten you very much."

Dean couldn't suppress a shiver at the absolute conviction in Castiel's voice, and he quickly changed the subject. "Not that this impromptu tour of prisons of the afterlife hasn't been a blast - even though it hasn't - but where the hell - heck - are we now?"

"This is my home," Castiel said.

Dean looked around immediately. The room he was in looked exactly like any hotel room in a million different little towns he'd stopped in over the years.

"You live in an angelic hotel room?"

Castiel looked around the room and frowned. "I pulled the image from your memory. Is it not correct? You can change it if you like."

A closer inspection showed that, sure enough, the room was a perfect match for the one he'd been sharing with Sam and Dad for their last hunt. Dean shook his head. "No, it's great," he answered. Castiel's frown disappeared so Dean guessed he'd never heard of sarcasm. Dean rolled his eyes, but he had bigger concerns. "It'd be better if my brother were in it."

Castiel cocked his head at Dean, brow furrowing. "Did you see who claimed him before I arrived?"

"Yeah, little man with a big mouth."

"That could describe any number of my brothers," Castiel said.

Dean laughed in surprise, although Castiel's straight face meant he was probably serious. "This one called himself the archangel Gabriel."

Castiel's confusion cleared but he looked resigned. "Then I have no idea where he may be located."

"Excuse me?"

"Gabriel does not like visitors. At least not from his brethren. Only a handful of his closest friends know how to contact him." Castiel's head tipped to one side thoughtfully. "I'm surprised he accepted your brother at all."

"I guess that means you're not one of his friends," Dean said.

"No," Castiel answered simply, but something in the hard line of his jaw and the ice in his eyes said there was a story there.

"Great, my brother's being held captive by an antisocial angel." Dean turned around and walked a few paces away from Castiel.

Castiel watched him and then followed behind him until he was back in his personal bubble . "I assure you that he is safe. Gabriel is not the most conventional of my brethren, but he will not harm your brother needlessly."

"Yeah, what if he thinks it's needful?"

Castiel's head cocked to the side, birdlike, and he frowned. "If his soul is half as bright as yours, why would it be needful?"

"You need your angelic vision checked," Dean said. Castiel opened his mouth, his already familiar confused expression in place, and Dean waved him off. "Nothing, I don't know. I'm too tired to think right now." Dean rubbed his forehead, exhaustion overtaking him as he spoke.

"Then you must get some rest," Castiel said at once.

Dean didn't want to rest: he wanted to find his brother. On the other hand, years of hunting had taught him that sometimes you had to take care of yourself in order to do any good for others. And there was nothing Dean could do right now. Obviously he needed to get away from Castiel and find this Gabriel somehow, but the first step was getting Castiel to leave him alone.

"You're right," Dean agreed. "I think I'll get some sleep." He flopped down on the nearest bed and closed his eyes. After a few minutes of silence he reopened them. Castiel was still standing where he had left him, staring at Dean. "You gonna stand there and watch me sleep for eight hours?"

"Yes," Castiel answered.

"You can't do that." Dean glared to emphasize the wrongness of the idea. "It's creepy. I'll never be able to fall asleep like that."

"Oh," Castiel said, looking somehow disappointed. "Then I shall depart for now. Pray for me if you need anything. I'll come at once."

Before Dean could tell Castiel how likely that wasn't, Castiel was gone. Dean closed his eyes again, sure was in no danger of actually falling asleep without his gigantic brother on the other side of the room. But apparently his body's exhaustion and years of sleeping anytime, anywhere, and (sometimes) with anyone served him well and Dean fell asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes.