Sam frowned at the list he had compiled of all the hunters he and Dean knew. Since Dean had tapped up the help of another hunter to hide the first key, it seemed likely he had done so for the other. He crossed a few off the list as having died before they hid the keys. He just had to hope that if someone did help Dean hide the key, they were still alive. The list was still way too long to check out in person. And Sam was sure, whoever Dean had contacted to help him, his brother would certainly have warned them against him, the way he had warned Byron. He was struck by a memory, of when he was soulless. Dean had enlisted Death's help to pull his soul out of the cage and restore it to his body. But Dean had buried the ring in Bobby's yard. Could he have buried the key there? It was worth checking out. But for now, he was headed to Houston.

Sam didn't remember Houston very well and it took him some time to get his bearings. But finally he found the bank where he'd stored War's ring. The bank manager was obliging if a little too nosy, but Sam retrieved the ring without incident.

He considered his next move. The drive to Sioux Falls was over a thousand miles and Sam was seriously tired of driving. He had no idea how Dean did this, but the only alternative was to fly and after Massachussetts, Sam was wary of flying. He needed to swap cars anyway, and maybe he'd try and find something a bit more comfortable than the old Chevy Nova he'd stolen in Hartford.

He stuck lucky in the donut shop he stopped at for breakfast, a distracted looking man in a cheap suit left his rental car keys on the counter. Since the key fob gave the make, model and tag number it was trivial to locate the car, a late-model Jeep Cherokee, and drive it away.


Tearing out of the hospital parking lot, Dean concentrated on driving and not the pulsing joy he felt at seeing Cas, fully healed and back to normal. Except for one thing that was now missing. Dean had expected to see it, some evidence of how the angel's feelings towards him had changed. You didn't notice he was in love with you for all this time, why would you suddenly notice now it's gone? That voice sounded like Sam. Dean choked, suddenly and Cas looked up, concerned.

"Dean, are you all right?" he asked. Dean nodded, his eyes tearing up.

"Sorry, man. Just a frog in my throat." Cas gave him a curious glance but did not press the matter. Gabriel leaned forward and patted Cas' shoulder.

"How are you feeling, little brother?" he asked, smoothing past the slight awkwardness. Dean squashed down the surge of gratitude he felt.

"I'm fine," Cas said uncertainly. "Physically, I'm fine. But there seem to be some strange gaps in my memory, some things I can't quite explain." Dean tensed and Cas couldn't help but notice. "What is it?"

"Do you remember how you ended up here?" Dean asked. The angel's forehead creased.

"I was in the kitchen, and Sam-" Cas broke off. "He banished me?"

"Yeah," Dean replied. "Sam's… gone, Cas." The angel stared at him.

"I knew it. The lapsit exillis did this, didn't it?" Cas hissed. Dean blinked in surprise.

"We think so," Gabriel said softly. Cas turned to face him.

"Gabriel, I'm sorry." Castiel's sorrow was profound. Gabriel waved him off.

"I should have listened to you," the archangel told him. "I let my affection for Sam blind me to what was going on."

"So, uh, you said you had gaps in your memory," Dean said suddenly. Fucking Hell, why was he poking at this like a rotten tooth? "What kind of gaps?" He could feel Gabriel bristle behind him.

"It's odd," Cas reflected. "There doesn't seem to be any logic to it. I can tell there are all these gaps, even some whole days missing, because the memories that are left are so disjointed. But I can't make any sense of it."

"Well, you did have a nasty knock to the head," Dean offered lamely. He's an angel, he's not gonna get amnesia from a bump on the head!

"Perhaps," the angel replied contemplatively.


Sam pulled into the parking lot of a dingy looking motel. It was even worse quality than the cheap motels he and Dean normally stayed in. But the crappier the motel, the fewer questions they asked. However, when he walked into the lobby, an underfed woman with straw-like blonde hair was watching the TV which was describing a nationwide manhunt for a sadistic serial killer. Him. The description was vague enough and the eyewitness sketch bad enough that he wasn't immediately recognizable, but his height was a red flag. Fuck. As soon as she looked up, the receptionist gasped. He gave her a menacing look and she shrank back.

"I'm sorry, we're all full," she stammered.

"Your sign says you have vacancies," Sam growled.

"It does? Oh, uh. Well, I just rented the last room. I was just going to change the sign when you came in." Sam could smell her lies and her distress. Her eyes slid to the cellphone on the check-in desk and Sam realized he was out of options. As soon as he made the decision to kill her, the warm glow of the lapsit exillis flared in his mind. He grinned at the terrified woman and reached out, dragging her up and over the desk like she weighed almost nothing. He clamped a hand over her mouth and whispered to her.

"No singing. We don't want to wake anyone, do we?" She struggled and he twisted her arm, relishing the feeling of the bones snapping. Tumbled straight into outright panic, she bucked in his arms and her foot connected with his shin. Swearing, he pinched at a nerve in her neck and smiled as he felt her go limp. The emerald pulsed in his pocket. He looked around and then dragged her body into the office behind the desk. His breathing stuttered as he pulled the knife from his belt, arousal and savageness beating steadily in his veins. He took his time, carving his pain and frustration out of her flesh. She had awoken when he started cutting, and her terror made him feel like a God. When she finally died, sobbing and begging for mercy, he'd almost climaxed just from the sheer pleasure of listening to her incoherent cries. Blood coated every surface, and Sam was drenched in it. He felt incredible, like electricity was flowing in his veins, like he could level mountains and drain the seas. He fumbled at the fastenings to his pants, and thrust his hands in roughly. The kill had driven him so close to the edge, it didn't take much before he was shouting out his release. He sank back, drained and euphoric. It wouldn't be long now before the kill alone would be enough to push him to completion. He smiled, at peace for the first time in days. He pulled the lapsit exillis from his pocket, where it lived most of the time now, and let it feed on her soul.

Sam considered whether he would try and clean up, but on balance it seemed smarter to make a quick getaway. He'd spent too much time here already. As he opened the door to the office, he recoiled when he saw the state trooper standing waiting at the check-in desk. Fuck, not again. The cop's eyes widened at the sight of a blood-soaked Sam, and immediately went for his weapon. Sam, still riding the high of his kill, was now almost preternaturally fast and his blade slashed across the unfortunate policeman's throat before he got halfway to his gun. Blood gushed and Sam thrust himself forward, his face doused in the spray. Even though he'd only just climaxed moments before in the aftermath of the woman's death, the power of this second kill tipped him over the edge again and he threw his head back with the force of it. It drove him to his knees and he stayed there, gasping, overwhelmed with sensation.

When he finally came back to himself, he stumbled out into the parking lot and fumbled his keys trying to unlock the car. He shoved the car roughly into drive and roared out of the lot.


When Dean felt his eyelids starting to droop, he suggested that they stop for the night. The two angels were in agreement. While Dean checked them into a motel, Castiel became aware of his brother's scrutiny.

"Is something the matter, Gabriel?" he asked. When the archangel didn't answer, he twisted around to look him in the eye. "I understand recent events with Sam have been very difficult for you, but I get the impression you have something to say to me."

"Dean knows about the Grace anchor," Gabriel told him. Castiel looked at him in horror. "How else do you think we refilled your Grace?"

"Is he angry?" the angel stuttered.

"No, although it was one Hell of a shock when I told him," Castiel opened his mouth but Gabriel held up his hand. "I had no choice. I still can't replenish my own stores of Grace and you were at Death's door." Castiel subsided.

"Very well. I understand. I will explain it all to Dean later."

Dean opened the trunk of the car and pulled out his duffel bag. He knocked on the window, Cas and Gabriel climbed out and followed him to the room.

"I need a shower." Dean said shortly and disappeared into the bathroom. Gabriel toed off his boots and flung himself onto one of the beds. Cas settled onto a chair and watched his brother for a moment.

"Do you have any leads on Sam?" he asked. Gabriel shuffled up the bed and leaned against the headboard. His face was drawn and Castiel realized his brother was looking rather thin. "Have you lost weight?" he asked, astonished. Gabriel started.

"Uh, it's possible," he allowed. "It's been hard to care much about eating." Castiel's temper flared.

"And Dean didn't force you to eat?" he snarled.

"Hey, Dean's not doing so well either." Gabriel defended. "His brother's in thrall to Lucifer, you'd vanished and we didn't know if you were alive or dead. He's had a lot on his plate." Castiel was unmoved.

"He should have known I would be fine," he asserted. "We will get Sam back. I will not have everything I have done and sacrificed over the years for... the sake of humanity to be thrown away so easily." He paused at the look on Gabriel's face. His brother had the strangest expression, a weird mixture of guilt, sorrow and curiosity. "You should not feel responsible, Gabriel. None of us saw what was in front of us." His brother's expression blanked. Something else was going on here, Cas thought. He didn't have time to consider the matter further because Dean threw open the bathroom door and ambled back into the room. He flopped down onto the empty bed.

"We need a plan," Dean said. "Now we've got you back, Cas," he gave the angel a warm smile, which suddenly went rigid. Cas stared at him, disquieted. There was something off about Dean's behavior, but he couldn't figure out what was driving it.

"You should really eat something," Cas said, struck by inspiration. "I think your blood sugar is low." Gabriel and Dean gave him weirdly similar looks, like he'd suggested something horrifying.

"I'm not hungry," Dean demurred. Cas gave him a level look.

"When did you last eat?" he demanded. Dean exchanged a look with Gabriel.

"I uh, can't remember. Yesterday?" Dean guessed and Gabriel shrugged.

That settled it. Cas stood up. "I will be back soon," he told them and swept out of the room.

"Does he seem different to you, Gabriel?" Dean asked. Gabriel shook his head slowly.

"No. Maybe. I don't know. I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask."


Cas was good to his word, and returned shortly after with a bag of fast food. He placed it in front of Dean and gave him a look that said he would countenance no argument. Dean sighed and pulled out a cheeseburger. He tossed it to Gabriel, and then pulled out another. Gabriel went to discard the food on the nightstand, and Cas glared at him.

"You will eat it, brother. Even if I have to force you." Castiel said. Gabriel flicked a contemptuous look at him, but relented and unwrapped the greasy sandwich. Dean chewed mechanically, not really tasting the burger. He felt vaguely sick, but forced the food down. When he'd finished, Castiel beamed at him, and his stomach lurched.

Cas was all at sea. Dean was tense and jumpy and strained, and the Grace anchor was weirdly subdued as though Dean were suppressing his emotional states. Which was not unusual for the hunter, but Cas was used to a steady stream of bleed-through. Of course, now Dean knew about the anchor, maybe he'd figured out how to block it. But that still begged the question of why he felt it necessary. And Gabriel was almost as bad, as if Cas was a bomb that might go off at any moment. Yes, they were both under a lot of stress with everything that had happened with Sam. But Cas felt like this odd atmosphere was centered on him somehow, which made no sense.

Neither Dean nor Gabriel were receptive to his wish to talk and so eventually he let them try and get some sleep. He wandered outside, breathing in the cool damp air. He extended his Grace, wondering if he might be able to pick up some thread of Sam's location. But the carvings on the younger Winchester's ribs were still in full effect and he could sense nothing. He could feel Dean's presence thrumming through the anchor. Now he'd left the room and the hunter was falling asleep the emotional block was failing and Cas gasped at the feelings that began to flood across the bridge. Dean was in agony. His distress was almost palpable, a thick throbbing sensation so overwhelming Cas was astonished the older Winchester brother could even function. Sam's betrayal had clearly bitten deep. His celestial hearing picked up a sound, like a barely suppressed sob. Since Cas had just been returned to them, he would have expected that Dean would have been at least a little relieved. But this pain felt sharp and fresh, like a response to something that had just happened. This soul-shredding anguish made no sense, to wrench tears from a man as emotionally repressed as Dean Winchester was rare. What was he missing?


Sam decided that motels would have to be off limits from now on. The chance of another person recognizing him was just too high, and whereas he didn't feel guilty about killing the cop, it did make life more complicated. He could sleep in the car, but that made it even more likely that he'd encounter more police, exactly what he didn't want. So he'd have to find empty properties, much like he and Dean had done from time to time when money was especially tight.

He spotted a sign for a development a few miles off his route and hoped that there might be one home completed and the water connected because he seriously needed a shower. He was also running dangerously short on clothes that weren't permanently blood-stained.

He was in luck, the show home was fully furnished and ready to show to buyers. The developer had even added small touches like clean towels in all the bathrooms. He luxuriated in a long, hot shower, and changed into the last of his clean clothes. A quick search on his phone found him an out of town mall just a few miles from the development. He'd have to break in and steal what he needed, but that shouldn't be too hard.