Plan A: Whale Song

Crowley wasn't certain by what magic the angel bound him but he was unable to leave; his power stripped.

Michael glared ferociously at the demon. "You are a swaggering, tinplated, little dictator with delusions of kinghood. You are not even one of the Fallen but a common, ambitious little back stabber and are as dirt beneath my feet. You will answer all of Sam's questions honestly and the only thing you will receive in return is the assurance that if you do not, I will hunt you down and destroy you like the evil son of a bitch that you are. Any questions?"

Crowley shook his head.

"Sam, Bobby, I leave him to you." Michael then disappeared in a quiet flutter of wings.

Crowley adjusted his tie and smoothed the lapels of his Italian silk suit. "Well, Sam, I see you've lost a brother and gained an archangel. I'm sure you'll be absolutely miserable together.

"He didn't seem very friendly, did he? Wonder what got his knickers all in a twist? And the threatening, that's a little over the top don't you think? I wouldn't dream of asking for anything in return for my help in getting rid of the Leviathans. That is why you called me. You need my help with the creatures. Of course, I'll do all I can; they're as much a threat to Hell as they are to you. It will be a case of I'll flay your back, you flay mine."

Sam was surprised by Michael's departure but was careful not to show it. "We need to know where the Leviathans are. That's all."

"I can help with that. I can give you the name of one of the major players now, Dick Roman. It will take me a bit longer to get his current location and the locations of the others. The buggers are multiplying faster than cockroaches and are twice as hard to kill.

"I'm babbling, aren't I? Being surprised by an archangel that's supposed to be lounging with his slightly more reprehensible younger sibling in a cage in the very depths of Hell has the potential to ruin everything I've worked for. Odd, how I hadn't heard a thing about there being a vacancy. Lucifer is still locked up, isn't he? Yes, of course he is; I would have been told otherwise."

Crowley took a deep breath and composed himself with a devilish grin. "It's not even like I've never corrupted an angel before. I've even been on a first name basis with an archangel; Raphael was a bird after my own heart: ambitious, petty and vindictive. But I've heard stories and Michael is a whole different level of dedicated; willing to fall into the cage with his brother rather than let go and leave the job undone.

"Good trick, by the way, freeing the General of Heaven. I'm still babbling aren't I? I think I'll be quiet now."

Crowley, Sam and Bobby stood staring at each other.

"Right, well, I'll be going. Tell Mr. Who-Is-Like-God that I'll be back with the information as soon as I have it and it's vetted. If you don't mind, I'll deal directly with you blokes." Crowley gestured vaguely toward the front window. "He seems the type to smite first and then smite later as well." Crowley disappeared.

Sam walked to the front window and looked out. Michael was standing in front of the house; face lifted toward the heavens, arms extended, palms up as if to receive a blessing. A ray from the setting sun was caressing his face, kissing it with a golden halo. If it were Dean standing like that, communing with nature, Sam would have been laughing his ass off and taking a picture to tease him with later.

Michael didn't appear to be communing with nature; he appeared part of it.

Bobby got tired of watching Sam stand at the window watching Michael stand in the middle of the road. He went to the basement to begin the cleanup of the wreckage brought about by the summoning ritual. That, at least, was something he could do that didn't involve standing around and waiting.

Once he was alone, Sam found he wasn't ALONE. "Michael looks very comfortable in your brother's skin, Sammy," Lucifer said casually, standing beside Sam at the window to watch the archangel. "It's a good fit; he looks very comfy, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you," Sam replied with clear irritation. "Why are you even here? I thought I told you to go away and leave me alone."

"Well, Sam, point one is that I will never, ever leave you alone so get used to having a me pop around now and then for a chat. Point two, I am here, now, because I want to help you."

Sam turned to face Lucifer, eyes wide with astonishment. "You want to help me? If you really wanted to do something for me, you could go away and not bother me ever again. Besides, I don't need your help."

Lucifer shrugged nonchalantly, "Maybe not right now, but when Michael decides Dean was just a place holder for him and that there are certain advantages to having a body, you might appreciate what I have to offer."

"What do you mean?" Sam was naturally suspicious of anything the Great Deceiver said, but Lucifer's taunt was mirroring his own fears.

"What I mean is that to my brother's way of thinking, Dean was born for the sole purpose of providing him with a vessel. He has no reason to give back something that he believes is his by right. The only way you are ever going to get your brother back is if you force Michael out. I know how to do that. I can teach you."

"Dean's already said yes. If I force him out, can't Michael just come back and reclaim the vessel?" Sam asked cautiously.

Lucifer smiled as if he had just won a great victory. "I can teach you how to scar the vessel so that Michael wouldn't be able to return.

"And in case you're wondering why I would do this for you, well, let me say that I'm not being altruistic, it really isn't so much about helping you as spiting my brother."

"So, what do you say, Sammy? Want to learn a magic trick?"

When Bobby came back upstairs a few hours later, Sam was still standing by the window. "He still out there?"

Sam nodded. "He's not moved in four hours. It's gotta be below freezing by now and he isn't even wearing a coat." The sun sets early in November in the northwest part of the country and when the night skies are clear, the temperature drops quickly. Frost had already painted the tips of the grass white.

Bobby snorted as he headed to the coffee pot to grab the last cup. "Being cold is probably the least of his worries."

Coming to a decision, Sam hurriedly grabbed his jacket and shrugged it on. "I'm going out." He looked at his brother's duffle for a few seconds before going and pulling out Dean's green jacket.

The night was clear and dark but the sprinkle of stars and the waxing moon provided enough light that Sam had no trouble seeing his way. The air was so cold that his breath left little puffs of vapor that trailed after him while he walked to stand beside Michael. The angel was unmoving, as if a statue; eyes unblinking and abnormally green, face calm, composed…alien. No human could stand so unnaturally still. Sam noticed that there were no warm clouds of breath from the archangel. He watched and there was no rise and fall of his chest. Michael might not need to breath but his brother did! Sam began to panic, his breath coming quicker, forming a small storm around his face.

Michael dropped his arms from their position of benediction. "He's fine, Sam. Don't worry. I told you I wouldn't let anything happen to him. I will treat this body as if it were my own." The angel lowered his face and looked at the younger Winchester. "If we had stayed, we would have killed the demon. That seemed strategically unsound. I trust he was cooperative."

"Yeah, he didn't have the exact location of the head Leviathan but knew where to get it. He said to tell you that he'd be back with updated information as soon as he could."

Michael nodded slightly in acknowledgement.

"What have you been doing out here, Michael?"

The archangel tilted his head and regarded Sam with an unblinking gaze, the posture achingly familiar. "Listening."

Sam slowly turned his head to catch any sound, no matter how slight. The cold, late autumn night was quiet in a way that it never was in the spring and summer. "To what?"

"The earth groans as the plates slowly roll, one over the other. A small child cries with hunger while another laughs with joy. There are whales singing their deep, long songs to each other telling their stories to this year's calves." He looked back up at the night sky. "Each sun is shouting in sibilant streams of charged particles, warning others of the limits of their territory. Angels' choirs are singing praise. All are harmonizing, echoing the glory of our Father and His creations."

Sam looked up at the stars, following Michael's gaze with wonder. "I don't hear anything."

Michael slowly closed his eyes and turned his head back to Sam. When he opened them again, he was wearing an expression that Sam recognized immediately as one he had seem his brother wear so many times over the last few years: weary hopelessness. "Neither do I."

The angel seemed to gather himself and once again was composed and expressionless. "I have failed so many who have looked to me for guidance. Be assured I won't fail in this, Sam. I have made a lot of mistakes but I have learned from them. I can't undo what has been done or change what has happened, but I can make this one thing right and that will have to be a start."

"Once you know the location of the Leviathans, do you have a plan?"

Michael turned his face once more toward the heavens. "Sammy, have you ever wondered what happens to an angel's grace when it is killed?"