Castiel held a blanket around himself as he stood in front of Bobby's desk. Dean held him steady. The spell called for the blood of Pestilence's victim, the more powerful the being the better. Castiel held out his arm and Balthazar held up a knife. He cut Castiel's palm open and the blood dripped into the marble basin.

"Alright, that's enough," Dean said after a minute.

"Just a bit more, relax Dean, he's my brother for crying out loud" Balthazar said. Dean glared at him.

"Dean, it's alright," Castiel said, not even looking at Dean. Dean shook his head. Balthazar reached forward and healed the cut when he was satisfied.

"What else do we need?" Dean asked through clenched teeth.

"The blood of one infected, the blood of one cured, and the blood of pestilence," Balthazar said.

"How are we getting the blood of one cured again?" Dean asked.

"Do we know anyone Pestilence infected and lived?" Balthazar asked with every ounce of sarcasm he could muster. Dean held out his hand and Balthazar didn't try to hide the fact that he enjoyed cutting him. He also took an extra moment before healing him.

"Balthazar,"

Balthazar smiled at his little brother and healed Dean's hand.

"Now let's get the third ingredient and we can be done with this mess." Balthazar said.

"We'll slice and dice him if you can find out where he is," Dean said.

Balthazar set the basin aside and went around Bobby's house gathering ingredients he needed. Bobby gave him the strangest look, it was like that winged bastard knew his way around, like he'd been there before.

"The hells going on?" Bobby asked as he watched him.

"Oh Balthazar here's dropped in before, says you keep a lovely pantry," Dean replied. Balthazar paused in his concocting to pat Bobby's shoulder.

"Superb!" He emphasized and continued.

"Alright, here we go," Balthazar said and ignited a map on the surface of Bobby's desk. What remained of the map he picked up and handed it to Dean.

"Now where is the Castiel look-a-like contest winner?" Balthazar asked. Castiel glared at him.

"What do you need with him?" Castiel asked.

"He'll be fine I've got a plan,"

Dean and Castiel looked at each other and then back at Balthazar

"Alright, Misha, come at me," Dean said holding up a knife. Misha looked at him uneasy.

"I don't know about this," Misha said, glancing down at Castiel's angel blade in his hand.

"It would make me feel a hell of a lot better if we actually knew Cas left some fighting mojo in you," Dean assured him. They were out in the junk yard, it was morning. They were about to go out when Dean pulled the actor aside.

"I know hand to hand stunts for the show and those are slowed down. Jensen is the one who actually studied the fighting techniques. Turns out it…came in handy one time," Misha replied.

"Well humor me," Dean said and lunged at Misha. Misha flinched and brought up the blade. He fought back and Dean stepped back. Misha stopped and looked at his hands, wide eyed.

"Wow," Misha said. Dean couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah…I feel better, let's go," Dean said and put his knife away. Misha followed him and slid the blade back up his sleeve.

It was a retirement home. Dean walked right through the front doors. It didn't look like he had a demon entourage this time. Dean stayed on high alert as he continued. He came across unconscious, at best, workers and retirees. He found the Horseman of Pestilence in the common room. He was waiting for him.

"Dean Winchester…Where's your brother?" Pestilence asked from the window.

"Oh, you see you're not the only case we have on our plates right now," Dean answered.

"Is that supposed to insult me?" Pestilence asked. Dean smirked.

"Does it?"

"It does,"

"Then yes," Dean replied. Pestilence glared at him and began fiddling with his ring. He was wearing all three on his uninjured hand. He twisted his own ring. Dean felt sick to his stomach lurch, he lost all sense of balance, and he felt hot. He sank to his knees.

"I made something special for you Dean, I'd send it to your brother too but I really want to see him die in person. Then I am going to go finish off your angel friend. I've been keeping him from death until I get there." He said. Dean's head pounded and he could feel every ounce of blood pump through his body. That blood began to burn.

"Yeah…about Cas," Dean managed to speak. He wasn't speaking to Pestilence though.

Misha stood outside in the hall and took a deep breathe.

"Stay in character, I am Castiel, An Angel of the Lord," Misha whispered to himself and became Castiel. He walked into the room. Pestilence looked at him wide eyed as Misha walked in.

"No…you…should be on the brink of death!" He said. Misha just stared at him and let the angel blade slide down into his hand. Pestilence played with the rings in an attempt to make him sick but Misha kept getting closer to him. As Pestilence concentrated on what he thought was an angel, Dean began to feel better.

Misha swung the blade at Pestilence and they began to fight. He knocked Misha away and Dean was on his feet to attack the horseman.

"This plan is absurd!" Cas scolded Balthazar and put his hand to his mouth as he coughed.

"It's a brilliant plan! Imagine the loop Pestilence will be thrown for," Balthazar said. Castiel shook his head.

"Balthzar!"

"He'll be fine. He said it. Pestilence is aiming for angels. He's not an angel and it would take him a few minutes to figure it out right? The shock would have to wear off first, he thinks Cassy's down for the count," Balthazar explained. Dean nodded.

"Give us a split second edge on him,"

"Dean!"

"Cas, we don't have much of a choice. If we don't get rid of Pestilence then Misha will be stuck here and be in danger anyway," Dean replied.

"You did give him fighting knowledge?" Balthazar asked. Cas nodded.

"I did, I had hoped he wouldn't need it,"

"Sorry, Cas," Balthazar snapped his fingers and Misha appeared next to Cas. He was in the process of putting on Dean's shirt.

"What the hell?" Misha asked and quickly pulled the shirt all the way down.

"Get back into costume mate, you have a performance!" Balthazar told him.

"What?" Misha asked.

"We need you to imitate Cas again," Dean told him.

"Right now?" Misha asked, he glanced at Cas. Cas was sick, unamused, and just about out of it.

"Not to us, to Pestilence,"

"What?" Misha looked to Dean wide eyed. Dean smiled and stepped up to him and held his shoulders.

"There are only two angels that are willing and able to get you home. One's sick and one's about to be sick. To cure them we have to take out the Horseman. We need you to be Cas if nothing else than to throw him for a loop," Dean explained. Misha looked from Dean to Sam and then to Cas.

"Can we go back to when you were freaking me out with body parts in a box?" Misha asked. Dean smiled.

"We are doing our best to do just that, can you do this?" Dean asked.

"Would it really help?" Misha asked.

"Yes," Dean told him.

"…Alright…I'll get changed…again," Misha said and turned towards the stairs.

"Wait, Misha can you do this without a script?" Sam asked. Misha paused and looked at him.

"I…think I have enough of Cas's character to do a little improv. Shouldn't be a problem," Misha replied.

"Good, time to get back in the trench coat,"

Misha got back to his feet and charged at Pestilence. Dean was on the floor vomiting. Pestilence grabbed him as he noticed Misha had cut cheek in the fight.

"You are not an angel!" Pestilence growled but before he could get to his rings Misha sliced at his hand. He cut off Pestilence's entire hand and turned around and embedded the blade into his chest. Pestilence fell back to the ground. Misha kicked the hand towards Dean whom got the rings off and got to his feet. Misha held the blood soaked blade and hung his head.

"Balthazar I pray to you, take the blade, Amen," Misha said. The blade disappeared from his hand and Misha went to Dean.

"Nice job," Dean said to him.

"Thanks, maybe I've watched too many movies but was that a little too easy?" Misha asked. Dean looked around with a raised eyebrow. Pestilence began to laugh on the ground.

"You think I am here alone?" He asked. Dean and Misha turned around and found two Demons at the door.

"Praying to Balthazar, I'm gonna need that blade back," Misha replied. The demons stepped forward with a smile.

"Balthazar!" Misha yelled. The blade appeared in his hand, the blood wiped off. Misha and Dean charged the Demons and began to fight.

"We have everything we need for the spell except the resting place," Balthazar said to Sam. Sam nodded and lit the match book. He dropped the lit matched into the offering basin and spoke summoning words.

"What can I do for you gents?" Crowley asked as he appeared in Bobby's living room.

"Did you get the resting place open?" Sam asked him.

"Oh, for Pestilence?" Crowley asked.

"Yes, we need to trap him like right now," Sam said. Crowley rolled his eyes.

"Always in a hurry you lot,"

"Crowley!" Same snapped.

"Fine then yes, pack your things dear we're leaving," Crowley said and raised his hand to snap his finger.

"We need Balthazar to go along too,"

"Lovely, another Angel, fine," Crowley snapped his fingers and all three of them appeared in a cemetery in front of an empty crypt.

"There you go gents,"

Misha pulled the angel blade out of the demon and looked to Dean. He had killed his demon too. Misha hunched forward, hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. Two more came through the door.

"Heads up," Dean said and held the demon knife ready. Misha looked up and groaned.

"Somebody say Cut already," He breathed and stood up.

"You'll never look at stunt doubles the same again," Dean laughed. Misha shook his head.

Balthazar painted symbols with the blood on the inside of the crypt. He poured the remainder of the blood on the floor and left the crypt. He stood outside and began to recite the spell. The spell would summon Pestilence and shut him in the crypt while making him go dormant. Leaving him to regenerate and wait for his next awakening.

"What? No!" Pestilence yelled from behind Dean and Misha. Dean turned around to see Pestilence disappear. Dean was then tackled by the demon he was fighting and his knife was thrown away. He struggled against the demon and they got him by the throat. Just as he started to black out he saw an angel blade punch through the demons chest and it died. Dean pushed it aside and looked around the room. There were no more demons.

"Cut!" He said and laid back across the ground. Misha smiled.

"Oh thank God!" Misha said and dramatically flopped onto the floor.

The crypt slammed shut and sealed. Balthazar smiled.

"There we go,"

"You don't feel sick at all?" Sam asked him.

"I was starting to feel a little off but I feel fine now. We need to check on Cassy," He said. Balthazar took Sam back with him to Bobby's house.

"You're welcome," Crowley replied to the empty air around him and he too left.

Misha and Dean appeared with Balthazar in the living room. Dean looked to Castiel whom was leaning against Bobby's desk wearing the clothes Dean had given to Misha.

"Cas?" Dean asked concerned. Castiel smiled.

"I feel great Dean," Cas replied and Dean went forward and hugged him. Misha noticed Cas was holding his sweater and clothes.

"So time to go home?" Misha asked. Cas looked at him.

"I will be taking you home, Sam has told me about the events that happened in your world. I will take you back to when they put you in the ambulance after they found you dead. You will resuscitate and it will be like the neck wound wasn't as deep as they thought," Cas explained. Misha nodded and took his clothes. Dean went with him he stood outside the bathroom.

"Hey uh Misha,"

"Yeah?"

"You did real good given the circumstances, a lot of people would have cracked under all of that," Dean said through the door.

"Thanks,"

"And uhm…I don't know if your script actually has anything to do with what happens here but…Or if the actors have a say in their characters…" Dean trailed off. He didn't really know how to say it. Misha opened the door after he got changed.

"What is it?" Misha asked.

"Cas…just keep playing him okay?" Dean asked.

"I will continue to play Cas even if it's in my mother's basement," Misha laughed. Dean gave him a strange look.

"I'll do what I can. Though I will tell you things are about to get dark for all of you. Just keep believing in him okay? He's going to need it," Misha told him. Dean nodded.

"You got it," Dean replied.

They walked back to the living room where Castiel was ready with the spell.

"Cas, I've got a question," Dean spoke up.

"Yes?"

"Over there magic doesn't work, your powers won't work, how are you going to make the swap?" Dean asked.

"I will be holding a portal open and passing energy to him," Balthazar said from next to Cas.

"Alright then, Misha nice seeing you again, don't take this the wrong way but I hope we never see you again," Dean said. Misha laughed and they shook hands.

"Same here," Misha said. He shook Sam and Bobby's hands too before standing before Cas. Cas put a hand on his shoulder and cast the spell.

They appeared in the alley way, cops were putting Misha in a body bag and putting him on the stretcher. Cas held his hand at the scene and everything froze.

"Can they see us?" Misha asked.

"They cannot," Cas said and walked over to the gurney. Cas opened the body bag and the body inside disappeared.

"There, just lay in there and wake up," Cas told him. Misha shook his head

"This is so wrong," Misha mumbled to himself as he got on the gurney and into the bag.

"I am going to make a shallow cut across your throat, it is going to hurt but you will be fine," Cas told him. Misha took a deep breath.

"Hey Cas…be careful. I'd tell you not to make any deals with Crowley but I know you won't listen. You'd do whatever it takes to save Heaven or Dean so…just be careful," Misha told him, propping himself up on his elbows. Cas looked at him for a moment.

"How about you check your back seat before you get in the car from now on," Cas said. Misha laughed.

"Uh, yeah, I may never drive without doing that again!" Misha said and laid back down.

"Alright, cut me up," Misha said. Cas used his blade to cut Misha's throat very precisely. Misha hissed in pain but it wasn't that bad. Cas released the time hold and went back through to his own world.

Misha sat in his chair on the set. They were waiting for Jensen and Jarred to get ready. Misha had been a little early to work. His wife Victoria had never been so happy to see him and being home made his heart soar. He finally came back to work to finish the scene they had been working on when he was attacked. The mark on his neck was pretty much healed and invisible under make-up.

"Whoa! You feeling okay there Misha?" He looked up to see Jarred and Jensen get to their seats.

"Hmm?"

"No phone, no tweeting, yep something is definitely wrong here!" Jensen said and Jarred put a hand on his forehead. Misha laughed and shied away.

"He doesn't feel warm," Jarred replied.

"I'm fine,"

"No, seriously, you okay?" Jensen said. Misha smiled and nodded.

"I am, thank you, you too talking?" Misha asked.

"Well…yeah believe it or not. That was a really weird week for all of us, we pretty much had the most bizarre out of body experience, and you got attacked and recovered. Sounds like the Supernatural is coming out of the show. I'm starting to think we need to watch each other's backs around here," Jensen explained.

"I can live with that, you're not going to get scared off are you?" Misha asked.

"Never," Jensen smiled and sat around forward.

"Misha, start tweeting you're making me nervous," Jarred said. Misha laughed and found his phone in his pocket. He pulled up the app and tried to think of what to say.

"Spooky stuff has been happening on the set lately, J2 and myself say bring it on! Apocalypse? Been there done that," Misha said and posted it. Jensen and Jarred turned around and looked at him. They laughed and shook their heads. Misha grinned and put the phone away.

"That's better," Jarred said and skimmed over the script in his hand.

"Crap I didn't grab my pages!" Misha blurted and got out of his chair and ran for his trailer. Jarred and Jensen looked at each other.

"What was he going to do? Improv?" Jarred asked. Jensen shrugged and looked over the lines himself.