SIOUX FALLS, SOUTH DAKOTA, NOVEMBER 2010 A.D.

Sam froze.

This, of course, was perfectly understandable. Even if he did look like a bit of an idiot to all those who were searching his face for some sort of reaction. (1)

What those watching him didn't see (2), though, was that his mind was running somewhere close to warp speed. The radio yesterday morning, that hadn't been anything to write home about. The car radio had been a weird coincidence, but nothing more than that. But this? This could no longer be considered normal.

Which, of course, meant that it was abnormal. Which, of course, also meant that it was supernatural. Of course.

And this song? It could only mean one being. As impossible as Sam had thought it was.

And it had been pretty impossible too. He and Dean had driven back to the motel to make sure that the archangel was actually dead. When they arrived, the motel had been ancient-looking, rotting and falling apart. Eventually, they'd found their way back to what was once the conference room, and, sure enough, they'd found him. Winged imprints and all.

They'd given him a hunter's burial. It had seemed only right, seeing as he'd given his life for them.

Now, though, it was starting to look as if that wasn't the case. Maybe it had never been the case at all.

"You gonna answer that, Sammy?" his brother finally prompted. Sam glanced at his face; it was impassive, but there was understanding in his eyes, and Sam felt a rush of gratitude. Even after knowing what he'd done, Dean still stuck by him. And he'd stick by him through this… whatever it turned out to be. Jerkily, Sam nodded, pressing his thumb to the blinking button.

Nothing happened. The song kept playing.

He tried again.

Same thing.

He looked up from the phone, his gaze desperately sweeping the room. Dean and Bobby both looked sympathetic, but puzzled, so they clearly had no idea what to do here. Cas and Crowley just looked confused, as neither of them knew what significance this song had. Then, his eyes fell on Aziraphale, who was staring at the phone hard enough to burn a hole in it. (3) "Sam," he said, voice low and urgent, "may I see that?" Sam handed it over without a word, glad to no longer be responsible for it, and hoping that the angel had some idea of what was going on.

Crowley forked an eyebrow. "Do you have any idea how to work that?" he questioned dryly, clearly expecting a negative answer.

Aziraphale shot him a look. "Yes, dear, I have figured out the basics." He turned his attention back to the object. "I haven't the slightest idea what this… Candy Crush thing is, but I know how to make a call. Though-" Another look was sent. "-I would very much like to have your number. I did not enjoy that horrible 'call failed' message I got."

"Wait, wh-"

"Ah ha!" the angel shouted. Sam peered at the phone in his hand. It didn't look much different, and the Song (4) continued to play. He raised an eyebrow, and Aziraphale hurried to explain. "I've been thinking on it ever since it played in the car," he began. "See, there was just something a bit… off I could sense about it." He raised a hand defensively at Sam's look of astonishment. "I didn't bring it up because from what you'd told me earlier, I didn't think that it was possible. But here it is again." He turned his attention back to the phone, which was starting to, oddly enough, glow, presumably as Aziraphale worked some angel mojo on it. "Listen."

Sam listened, at first, unable to discern exactly what he was supposed to be listening to. But then, between the slight gaps between the words, he heard it.

-nights you sit - -lo? -beside the phone - Pick up the- What were the things -damn phone!- you wanted for-

Sam knew that voice, as staticky and Song-overridden as it was. He had very, very mixed feelings about that voice.

"Hang on," Aziraphale muttered. "Let me see if I can get a better connection." Slowly, the Song faded away into the background, leaving a paler, but pleased-looking Aziraphale, a brightly glowing smartphone, and a voice that Sam really hadn't expected to ever hear again.

"Y'know, it's rude to hold out on a guy like this. I mean, seriously, you don't pick up my calls, you don't answer my letters, you don't acknowledge my existence, or… Why am I even bothering? I mean, it's not like I've got the power to connect properly right now, so you can't hear me anyway-"

"I believe you underestimate the ingenuity of those present here, brother," Cas broke the silence. "We hear you… uh… loud and clear?" At this, he glanced over at Dean, as if to make sure he got the phrase right, and Sam smiled, despite the situation. Typical Cas.

There was silence on the other end of the line, and then: "It's about damn time, then! What took you so long?"

It was at this point that Sam found his voice. And his annoyance. Any grateful thoughts he may have been entertaining toward the archangel flew out the window. "How about the fact that instead of calling like a normal person, you stalked me with a friggin' song!"

Nothing but static replied to that. Aziraphale frowned, shaking the phone. (5) The glow encasing it intensified slightly, and Gabriel's voice filtered back through the white noise. "-don't exactly have my phone on me right now, and Holy Fire isn't helping the connection any, so you're lucky to get that much!"

Everyone exchanged worried glances, and with no small effort, Sam pushed back his irritation, opting instead to focus on the matter at hand. After all, the mention of Holy Fire could only mean one thing.

"Hello? You still there?" the archangel's voice came again, though he was becoming less and less audible by the second. "Hello?"

Aziraphale was the first to recover. "Yes, Gabriel, we're still here," he replied. "What's this about Holy Fire, then?"

There was silence on the other end of the line for a full three seconds. (6) "Wait a sec, Aziraphale?" He sounded completely flabbergasted, and Sam made a mental note of it, as it is generally difficult to surprise an ancient celestial being, and it was not likely to happen again anytime soon. "I thought you were dead, bro!"

"I was, and to be fair, we thought the same of you." Aziraphale sighed, and Sam got the distinct impression that he was accustomed to dealing with the archangel. "Now, Gabriel, is there any way that you can strengthen this connection? I'm beginning to have a bit of trouble holding it up at this end."

Gabriel laughed dryly, and Sam realized that it actually did sound dry, as if his throat was severely dehydrated. "That might be at my end, actually. It's taking a lot out of me to use any power at all right now."

"Ah. Holy Fire?"

"Yeah. Long story short, I met up with Raph, he got the drop on me, and… well, let's just say that he didn't approve of the side I took during the Apocalypse. Thus… am."

Sam's eyes widened at the break in the words, and he glanced at Aziraphale in alarm. "What? You're starting to break up," he cut in, brow furrowing. If they lost the connection now…

"...said… here I…" Suddenly, a bout of violent coughing was heard over the line, and then… nothing but static. Aziraphale passed the phone back to Sam, and he took it on instinct, his mind a million miles away, thoughts bouncing around in no particular order.

We lost the connection.

Geez, he sounded pretty bad at the end there.

We don't know where he is.

We should probably try to rescue him.

But we don't know where he is!

How the hell is this even remotely helpful to the situation?

"So…" Dean's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "What exactly just happened?"

"It's quite simple, really. There's this thing called a phone, which you may have heard of, and what it does is-"

"Shut up, Crowley."

"That was a distress call," Cas stated quietly, ignoring the demon. With a bit of surprise, Sam noticed that his face was drawn tight with worry. He hadn't thought that the angel had a close relationship with Gabriel, but that assumption was only based on their interactions during the T.V. Land fiasco, so now the Winchester wondered if he'd have to revise it.

"A rather urgent one, I think," Aziraphale added. "I don't like the sound of that cough at all."

"Great. That's great. Let's go rescue him." Dean crossed his arms, looking extremely put out. "Except, not only is he an asshole, but we have no clue where he is."

"Well, he can't be that hard to find, can he?" All eyes turned to him, and Sam immediately regretted opening his mouth. "I mean," he pushed through, "he's an archangel. Even contained, that's got to create some sort of… I don't know… trackable… thing," he finished weakly.

Everyone stared at him. Bobby muttered something that sounded like 'idgit' (7) and stood up, making his way over to his desk. "Trackable thing?" Dean finally asked. "Sam, you feeling okay?"

Sam shrugged defensively. "It's valid," he insisted.

"He's not wrong," Crowley agreed, a smirk on his face. "I can get some of my people on it. They'll be able to turn up something."

"I sincerely doubt that… your people will have much luck," Cas stated scathingly. "Raphael will have him well secured. We don't even know if he's on Earth."

"And we don't want demons anywhere near this," Dean added, and Sam couldn't help but concur. Somehow, he thought that sending demons to look for an archangel wasn't the best plan in the world.

"Then I'll help him," Aziraphale offered. "I'm sure that, between the two of us, we can find some trace." At this, Crowley looked very much like he wanted to object, but a steely glance from the angel clammed him up. "We'll come back and get you when he's been located."

"Okay then," Sam considered. "Right. You get on that, and we'll call you if we get anything."

A few moments later, the pair were gone, leaving Sam to hope that sending them off like that had been the right thing to do.

xXx

ELSEWHERE, AT THE SAME TIME (EXCEPT, IN ANOTHER TIME ZONE)

It was raining.

This, in of itself, was not unusual. It rained in places like these all the time.

However, the fact that someone was outside in this wet mess would have seemed unusual to anyone else who'd been outside to see it. Of course, there wasn't anyone else outside in this wet mess, because that would have been unusual, and what person would even want to be outside in this weather anyway?

The answer to that being: no person at all.

The figure shifted uncomfortably, leaning on the wall. He'd been standing here for far too long, in his opinion, and the being that he was supposed to be meeting was late.

He didn't appreciate tardiness.

"C'mon, you wanker," he muttered under his breath. "Where are you?"

"Right here," a voice stated from behind him. The figure turned, and, sure enough, there was a man there. The rain didn't touch him, and he almost seemed to be glowing. The expression on his face was one of distaste. The figure was well acquainted with expressions like that- he saw ones just like it nearly every day.

"So," he began, "you Raphael then?"

"Indeed I am," the archangel sniffed, turning up his nose. "And you are the demon, I presume. No one else would be lurking like that at this hour of the night."

The figure straightened. "You've got that right," he agreed. He was rather proud of his lurking skills.

"Fine. Then us discuss the reason for this meeting. I have other places to be, and beings far more important than you to talk to." The insult passed far over the figure's head, and he nodded eagerly.

"Right then." He grinned, revealing teeth that were sharper than could possibly be natural. "You said you needed my help."

"Need is too strong a word," Raphael corrected. "I would be interested in acquiring your services, but if you're not interested, I can always get someone else."

That sobered the figure up immediately. If there was one thing he could recognize, it was a threat. "No need for that," he told him. "Whatever you want. What is it you want?" The last bit came out a little bit higher pitched than he would have liked, but then again, this was an archangel, a being that could destroy him with a thought, so perhaps he could be excused his nervousness.

"I seek to walk the Path chosen for me by my Father. I seek to bring about Paradise," Raphael started. The figure stared at him blankly, and the archangel changed track. (8) "Your King is defying me," he explained slowly, as if to a three year old. "I do not like that. I want you to destroy him."

"Huh. Why can't you do that yourself?" the figure questioned, tilting his head as he tried to work it through.

"I am above matters such as this."

This time, the insult was obvious, and the figure bristled, forgetting for a moment who he was talking to. "Hey, now wait a second, why should I do anything for you if you're so-"

Raphael leaned in close, and the figure had to back up a step from the Holy Power that surrounded him. "I'll give you two very good reasons," he hissed, or said in as close to a hiss as an archangel can get. "One: if you don't, I'll kill you and find someone else. And two…" He paused, a small, menacing smile appearing on the face of his vessel. "Well, wouldn't you like to be in charge of Hell?"

The figure's eyes widened. Him? In charge of Hell? The very thought was ludicrous… or was it? Now that he thought of it, the current King, Crowley, wasn't doing a proper job of things. For the love of Satan, he'd converted most of the place into one big waiting line! Who did that? It reminded him of another demon by the same name, a demon that he was still waiting to get his revenge on.

If he was in charge of Hell, he could find the flash bastard for sure…

Oh, yes. This idea was sounding better and better by the second. He nodded eagerly, sticking out a hand for the archangel to shake. "You've got yourself a deal," he agreed. "Pleasure doing business with you, Raphael."

The archangel stared at the extended appendage as if it were covered with maggots. "I would say the same, Duke Hastur," he sniffed, "but dealing with filth like you is never a pleasure. Sometimes, though, the ends truly do justify the means."

xXx

(1)- To be fair, though, they looked like idiots too, gawking at him like that when there was no reaction forthcoming.

(2)- Except for those who could read minds. Meaning, everyone except Dean and Bobby.

(3)- And in fact, the phone was giving all it had just to keep itself together.

(4)- Sam decided in that moment to give it a capital letter. It wasn't as if there was any other song that was as actively involved in his life anyway.

(5)- Because the angel didn't know that shaking things never actually makes them work better, and can, in the case of soda, in fact make things a lot worse. Luckily for him, the phone wanted to please.

(6)- And Sam would know because he counted each blessed one.

(7)- It could also have been 'midget', but considering Sam's size, it probably wasn't.

(8)- He'd realized, at this point, that the being that he was dealing with was, for lack of a better word, a bit stupid. The archangel resolved to put this in simpler terms, using small words and conjuring up a few diagrams if it was necessary.

A/N: And the plot thickens! Hastur really is kind of an idiot, isn't he? Sorry bout the lack of A/C interaction, but well… next chapter… maybe…. Anyway, hope you liked!

And a special thank you to Firefly070995, who made me some really awesome cover art!

Next Chapter: In which Aziraphale and Crowley try to track down Gabriel, and Dean and Sam have a good talk.

Oh, btw, if anyone was wondering about the Mortal Instruments reference last chapter, it was the whole stampede of llamas in Peru thing. It wasn't, in fact, Crowley who caused that. It was Magnus. :)