Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed.

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It was a relief to be able to move without catching his coat on brush and twigs, Castiel decided, even as he forced his legs to move faster. It would have been more of a relief to simply shift over to the man and capture him that way, but his reserves were still nearly nonexistent. While it was certainly inefficient, running should—eventually—prove just as effective.

Unfortunately, when he circled the building, taking longer than he'd originally expected given that it was considerably deeper than it appeared from the front, he saw no sign of the man. And no sign of Dean or Sam, either. He scanned the area around the building, trying to determine whether they'd doubled back or veered off in some other direction, but there was no indication that they had taken a different path than the one he'd last seen them on. There was a broken door however.

When he got closer, he could see Dean and Sam standing against the wall through what remained of the doorframe. Although Sam's attention was focused elsewhere, Dean saw him, and Castiel frowned as the elder Winchester began rolling his eyes wildly and contorting his mouth. With a shake of his head, he stepped inside to see what the two of them had found. It was strange, though…that the damage to the door almost looked fresh.

"Castiel. So nice of you to join us."

He froze for a moment. So that was what the…presence…he'd sensed when they'd arrived in town was. He forced any sign of shock from his features before he acknowledged his brother. "Zachariah."

Zachariah had probably intended to go completely unnoticed until he chose to reveal himself—in fact he probably hadn't even noticed that he hadn't been—but then again, he never had been very good at the subtle use of power. Unfortunately, that was somewhat academic at this point. Subtlety was unlikely to prove useful now that Zachariah had the Winchesters cornered.

Worse than cornered, he realized abruptly. Dean and Sam weren't standing against the wall, they were pinned there. And not at all pleased about it, judging by the expressions on their faces. It took only a fraction of a second to review his options. Of which he had very few. Even at full strength, he doubted that he would be a match for Zachariah; weakened as he was, he wasn't even entirely sure that he could break the Winchesters free. And even if he could do so, he would have nothing left to help them escape this place.

"I might have known you'd be here with them." The sneer was as clear in Zachariah's voice as it was on his face, and Castiel decided that allowing him to draw out the confrontation was as good a tactic as any.

"How did you find us?" Sam whispered harshly. Apparently their voices were bound as well as their bodies, explaining why Dean had been making those ridiculous faces as opposed to simply shouting a warning.

Zachariah turned back slightly redirecting his attention toward the Winchesters. "Given your…history…with this place, when I noticed supernatural activity I knew it was only a matter of time before you would arrive. It only took a little encouragement on my part." His sneer turned into a self-satisfied smirk.

Sam, unusually enough, was the one to blaspheme at that. Normally Dean was the more vocal with his displeasure, but he just snorted. "You know, we were just telling the sheriff last night what a dick you were."

Zachariah's jaw tightened and his sneer returned. "You have been far, far more trouble than you're worth. I thought I'd already made this perfectly clear, but perhaps I should say it again. You will say 'yes,' you will be Michael's vessel, and this war will be won. I'll not tolerate any more of this nonsense from you."

"Go to Hell."

"As I recall, that was what started all this. "

There was silence for a moment as Zachariah and Dean glared at each other, and then Zachariah's eyes flicked towards Sam.

That was the moment Castiel had been waiting for—and had been fearing—and he centered himself and dropped his wards. They were nothing but a drain on his resources now that his position was known, and he was going to need every bit of energy he could gather to free the Winchesters. Zachariah was obviously planning to use the younger Winchester to force Dean to do his bidding, and he would not allow that.

Zachariah turned slightly at his actions, and he used the fraction of a second of distraction to attack the bindings holding the Winchesters in place. They were more brittle than he'd expected, or perhaps his desperation gave him strength, because both Dean and Sam fell away from the wall almost immediately, gasping.

"How dare you?" Zachariah snarled, his attention neatly diverted from the Winchesters as he took a step in Castiel's direction.

Castiel held his ground. "I believe that I agree with Dean's assessment. You are a dick."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances and then began to approach Zachariah slowly, and it was all that Castiel could do to hold back a very human groan. They should be escaping now…he couldn't hope to hold Zachariah's attention for any great length of time, and the two of them couldn't possibly do anything against him.

Zachariah flicked his fingers, and it was Castiel's turn to slam into a wall. He didn't bother to cushion the impact, instead redirecting what little power he had into shields. It was a futile attempt, and he knew it—with his strength nearly nonexistent they wouldn't hold for more than a moment against whatever Zachariah chose to send against him—but it was the best he could do.

Unfortunately, it looked like his sacrifice was going to be in vain, because Dean and Sam chose that moment to spring at Zachariah. Who sent them both sprawling with absolutely no effort whatsoever. Not even so much as a backwards glance.

Dean rolled on impact, bringing his gun to bear, but being shot in the head didn't affect Zachariah any more than it would any other angel. Nor did the two holes Sam put in his back seconds later do anything of use.

"Apparently it's going to take a little more convincing to make you see things my way," Zachariah said with a smirk in Dean's direction. Castiel saw Sam tense, obviously expecting the same treatment that Castiel's actions had been intended to preempt, and Dean began to move to put himself in front of his brother. And then, unexpectedly, Zachariah swiveled and held out his arm, and a beam of white light struck Castiel in the chest.

His fragile shields held for a fraction of a second before buckling under the onslaught, and he couldn't hold back a gasp as the backlash—and the wave of sheer power Zachariah was projecting—burned back through his channels. And then the shock gave way to pain.