Dean rode up to the giant wooden gate and knocked three times. A small panel slid aside to reveal a pair of eyes, which darted to each member of the group. When asked, Dean stated the password, "Fiat voluntas Dei." May God's will be done.

The gates opened for them and Castiel looked into the camp with instant curiosity and a sense of doom. The only records of Rebel bases have come from 'forcefully questioned' Rebels. There have been no other records of any Rebel hideouts, which only meant that an Angel has never been brought to one (highly unlikely), or once an Angel is taken inside they are never heard from again. He jerked forward as Dean's horse had begun to walk while his attention was elsewhere. Castiel began to walk through the base. All the buildings were made from wood. It was lined with numerous cabins, all bordering what looked to be a supply shed, a hospital, a stable for the horses, and a large building that looked big enough to fit everyone in the base (no doubt a meeting hall). On some cabins, there were men cleaning their guns or sharpening their blades on their front steps. Castiel breathed a small sigh of relief. At least he wasn't brought back to the Rebel's main base; this only looked to be a support base for Rebel members.

He looked back to the leader as Dean grinned out "Bobby!" and jumped down from his black steed. They hugged briefly, and Sam quickly followed suit.

"What're you boys doin' here? Last I heard you were out on a supply run" Bobby questioned.

"Yeah, we kinda picked up something extra" said Dean, nodding his head toward the captured Angel. Bobby looked in his direction, his eyes growing wide as realization hit him. He shot a questioning look at Dean, demanding an explanation.

"He's an Angel. We captured him a couple miles outside Carlin. He was in a group of four."

Bobby's eyebrows furrowed in troubled shock. "Four? Outside of Carlin? And what about the other members he was with?"

"Dead"

Seeing Bobby give an approving nod, anger burned inside Castiel as he remembered his fallen comrades. As soon as the emotions were present, they were immediately forgotten. He was well trained in eliminating his unwanted emotions. Emotions could be used to an enemy's advantage, they were too easily manipulated.

"Me and Sam need to talk with you. Inside, if you don't mind."

Not needing to ask what about, Bobby grunted out a "follow me" and led them to a cabin that, Castiel assumed, was his own.

"Got any rope?" Dean asked, and Castiel's wrists were quickly bound to yet another chair. It was better than walking, he supposed.

The men left him in the room, but left the door open. Castiel watched them as they began to talk in hushed tones so that he could not hear.

"So what can I do for you boys?"

"Do you know what a small fleet of angels would be doing a couple miles outside of Carlin?" Sam asked

Bobby shook his head. "I've never heard of Angel activity this far from Heofon besides the usual tax collection. What did he have to say about it?" he asked, nodding his head in Castiel's direction.

"He's not the most cooperative guy" Dean said sheepishly

"Well did you 'force' the issue?"

"C'mon Bobby, you know I don't like to do that stuff."

"Well he sure ain't going to tell you out of the goodness of his heart, ya idjit"

Dean threw Sam an 'I told you' glance when he called him an idjit. Sam rolled his eyes and gave a responding 'duh' glance.

Moving on, Dean said, "I figured we'd take him to Dad. This whole thing is bothering me. The Garrison has never been out this far. Plus the fact that they sent such a small group means they were going for speed…" he shook his head, glancing over at Castiel to make sure he was still bound. "I just don't know. So where is my Dad?"

"Last I heard he was at Lawrence. So how many men do you need to go with you?"

Sam shook his head. "We're not bringing extra men; they would only slow us down. We do need another horse though; it's too slow if the Angel has to walk."

Bobby shifted his eyes between the two boys. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"We're going to take precautions," Dean answered. "Besides, he's a rookie. This was his first time out of Heofon."

Sam turned to him. "What? He told you that? When? And why didn't you tell me?"

The accusing tone in his voice brushed against Dean's nerves. "In so many words. And I would have told you if you weren't drunk the night I found out" he shot back.

Sam downcasted his eyes. "Right."

Dean felt a twinge of guilt, but it was inexcusable for Sam to let himself get drunk when they're on a mission. Anything could happen, and if you aren't completely prepared it doesn't end well. He looked back to Bobby. "That doesn't leave this room by the way" he commanded. He wanted Sam to learn, but Dad would be furious if he ever found out.

"I ain't touching that one with a ten-foot pole."

Dean nodded once in thanks. "We leave tomorrow morning then. Do you mind if we stay here? We could both use a goodnights sleep."

Bobby understood what Dean was asking. "Yea, I'll keep an eye on the Angel tonight. You boys get some rest."

THE NEXT MORNING

"Hands" Dean ordered.

Castiel wearily lifted his hands and Dean bound them together in front of him with rope. He tied the other end of the rope to the saddle of his black horse.

"Alright Angel Boy, get on the horse."

Sam walked up and tied a loose rope around the neck of Castiel's beige horse, then tied the other end to his own saddle. After saying their goodbyes to Bobby, they set out. Dean led the way, staying three feet ahead of Castiel's left side. Sam trailed the Angel on his right, three feet behind. Both brothers made sure to stay far enough from the Garrison member so that he could not reach their guns that were sitting in their holster-belts, or any supplies from their saddles. They stopped riding at sunset and set up a fire. Dean untied Castiel from his horse, allowing him to get down before adjusting the ropes. His upper arms and wrists were bound in an instant, and Dean pushed down on his shouler, silently telling him to sit while the two brothers made camp.

Castiel decided to devote his time evaluating the two Winchesters. He needed to know if he stood a chance of escaping if it were just the two of them watching him. This would be the last and best time for it. He also knew that his captors were fully aware of the situation, and must be fairly skilled if they offered to take him with only the two of them. He had to test their trigger speed. He reached down for a rock, not bothering to be sneaky about it. He didn't even reach the rock before he heard the swoosh of a gun being drawn and the click that armed it. His head jerked up to see Dean's gun trained on him. A second later Sam's gun followed. Castiel remained passive while staring at Dean's gun, but a sense of dread came over him. He was fast.

"Whatcha' think you're doing?" Dean asked in a calm but threatening manner. Castiel said no response but leaned back away from the rock. "Sam," he ordered. Sam put is gun back in his holster and stood up. He walked over to the Angel, cautiously bending down to pick up the rock. He threw it away from their camp then scanned the area for anything else Castiel might be able to use to get away. Dean only retracted his gun once Sam sat back down beside him. His gaze spoke volumes. Don't even think about it.

Sam and Dean talked the rest of the night, just amiable chatting, nothing that Castiel could pull important information out of. The two brothers seemed to be very close, judging by the ease of which they spoke to each other and laughed together. Dean seemed to speak whatever was on his mind and was quick with a joke. Sam, however, seemed to think his answers through more carefully. He didn't joke half as much as Dean, but his were subtle and had a sense of intelligence behind them. They would banter back and forth, neither taking the other seriously. A curious emotion welled up inside Castiel. He couldn't ever remember feeling it before. It was jealousy. But it was not for the brothers, it was for the lifestyle they led. It was so free. The freedom to say whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. Obviously both brothers had a sense of duty, but it was clearly their choice and out of their own free will that they fought against the government. Castiel quickly searched his mind for the reason he was fighting. Because that was his purpose. Because he was ordered to. He could not think of another. Frowning, he cleared the unwanted emotion from his mind immediately; he didn't like it very much.

Castiel lay down on the ground, trying to find a comfortable position while his legs and arms were tied up. When night fell, Dean tied up his legs as well; Castiel couldn't decide which was worse, this or that damned post. He fell asleep fairly quickly. He was a valuable source of information to the Rebels; he knew neither Sam nor Dean would harm him in the night. The next two days proved to be about the same as the first. They woke up early in the morning; Dean made breakfast (even for him, to Castiel's surprise). The Winchesters rolled up their sleeping bags, doused the fire, and then untied his legs so he could walk over to get on his horse. They rode all day, stopping each night at sunset.

On the fourth day, they could see the town of Áhopian. A feeling of satisfaction filled Dean; they were exactly on schedule.

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