"Let us pass," Castiel ordered. He spoke gently to Alfie, but it was still clearly an order.
"Yes, Castiel," was Alfie's immediate reply. His voice had changed from friendly and cheerful to submissive and upset, and his head drooped. Sam could tell that there was some painful history behind Alfie's actions, and he wondered briefly what it was.
Castiel felt guilty. "I'll see you around?" he asked gently, an odd touch of pleading in his voice. Sam was feeling rather confused by this exchange.
Alfie's head came up enough at the question for the small smile that flitted briefly across his face to be visible. "Of course," he said. There was a trace of bitterness in his voice.
Castiel looked relieved, but still rather guilty. He shot Alfie one last smile before going through the gate and walking towards the palace. Sam hurried after him.
"He is way too nice," Castiel said in a pained voice.
Sam decided not to press him.
Castiel visibly calmed down as he led Sam up three flights of stairs. He had looked rather stiff and nervous talking to Alfie, and now he looked relaxed and unfazed. Sam was envious. He was scared; he didn't know Michael and he didn't know what to expect.
Castiel had made it sound like Michael was Sam's one shot to find Dean, and Sam was terrified that he'd make a bad impression. After all, he had broken into Castiel's house. Castiel himself apparently didn't care at all who broke into his house, but Sam couldn't imagine an older sibling who wouldn't get angry on his little brother's behalf.
Sam noticed to his embarrassment that his hands were shaking. He hoped Castiel hadn't noticed.
"Calm down," Castiel recommended. He sounded mildly amused.
Sam bit his lip in mortification. He nodded meekly and tried to calm down. He reminded himself that panicking would do him no good, trying in vain to steady his breathing.
Castiel knocked, and went inside after hearing something that Sam couldn't catch. He left the door open, but Sam was too shy to follow him in.
"You entered by the east gate?" a voice Sam didn't know asked. He guessed it must be Michael.
Castiel didn't respond audibly. He must have nodded.
"How is Samandriel?" Michael asked.
"He's-" Castiel sighed. "He's still mad at me. He just won't act angry because he knows that I was- technically in the right. So, we can't solve anything because he doesn't want to. And he's still obviously mixed up and upset."
Castiel's voice was filled with guilt and pain. Sam wished again that someone would explain what was going on. He knew it wasn't any of his business, but it was annoying not understanding any of the conversations he'd overheard. He didn't like not understanding things.
"I wonder if he wants to talk to his parents," Michael said thoughtfully.
"It would be a bad idea to allow that," Castiel responded. "But he certainly wouldn't say if he did want to see them."
Sam had walked cautiously up to the door and was now standing just out of sight of Michael and Castiel. He didn't dare go closer.
"I know it's a bad idea," Michael said dejectedly. "It's just the only idea I've got. Something has to give."
"You could try talking to him," Castiel said. "He hero worshipped you when we were kids."
"I think he hates me now."
There was a long minute of silence in Michael's office. Sam shifted nervously.
"Do you want me to try talking to Alfie?" Castiel finally asked.
"I don't know if he's calmed down enough to talk to you about anything that matters," Michael said. "You were his best friend, before…"
"A random stranger could probably get more from Alfie now than I can," Castiel said dully. "Would he talk to anyone now?"
"Probably not."
Sam had moved to stand visibly in the doorway. He was staring at his shoes, unwilling to risk making eye contact.
"Sam, why don't you come in," Michael said.
Sam's head snapped up. "How do you know my name?" he demanded fearfully.
"I recognized you from your file," Michael explained. "Sit," he ordered, motioning to the chair in front of his desk.
Sam sat down in the seat with a face like he expected it to explode. He knew he was overly nervous, but he couldn't seem to stop hyperventilating.
"You ran away from the Harvelles to search for Dean," Michael stated in a clearly nonjudgmental tone that instantly put Sam at ease, despite himself.
"I didn't mean to scare them or anything," Sam said, starting to worry about his foster mother and sister.
"They're fine," Michael said. "How did you end up staying with Castiel?"
"I- well-" Sam stammered. "Um…"He looked to Castiel with a plea for help written in his expressive hazel eyes.
Castiel met Sam's eyes for a moment before turning to Michael and picking up on a cue that Sam couldn't catch. Whatever it was, it made Castiel turn away from Sam to look deliberately out of the window. Sam was at Michael's mercy.
Brilliant, Sam thought sarcastically at Castiel. Thanks so much.
Castiel was seemingly oblivious to Sam's glare, but Michael must have guessed Sam's thoughts. His lips twitched upward into a half smile.
"Why don't you start with why you ran away," Michael suggested, his smooth voice betraying his amusement. "What made you think the police weren't handling the situation?"
That question was easier; Sam's breathing settled some as he thought about how to answer. "Dean just- vanished, you know," Sam began. He briefly raised his eyes to meet Michael's before dropping his head again. "I know my brother. He wouldn't leave without a reason, not willingly."
"And what if he had a reason," Michael said. "Can't you think of any reasons for Dean to leave for a few weeks?"
"He broke up with Layla, his girlfriend," Sam said. "And he was fighting with Ellen about something, but I don't think it was that serious. I just can't imagine…" Sam trailed off, feeling like he would start crying if he tried to say anymore.
"Was there anything you noticed to indicate that Dean might've been forced to leave?" Michael asked.
Sam bit his lip. "There were a lot of scattered candy wrappers. It was weird. I mean, Dean likes sugar, but he usually eats pastries, not candy. He loves pie. I would always get cake when he asked for pie, just to annoy him."
