Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. I'm especially glad that all three of the main characters (and Gabriel) are staying in character…it was one of the things I was worried about with three POVs to work with.

* * * * *

The pipes squealed overhead, and Dean rolled his eyes and turned up the volume on the television set before checking Cas. Nope, the noise hadn't received any more of a reaction than shaking him had earlier.

"We've got a problem," Sam said suddenly.

"You mean, aside from the fact that this motel room is crap and Cas hasn't regained consciousness since his psychopath of a brother dropped in for a visit?" Granted that it hadn't even been a full twelve hours yet, but Gabriel shifted personalities so often he was practically a walking mental institution, and at least a couple of those personalities didn't seem to care too much about the health of his siblings. Who knew what he'd really hit Cas with?

"Yeah, aside from that." Sam unplugged the laptop and handed it over. "Check it out."

Dean scanned the web page. "Deputy found skinned? You've got to be kidding me." He handed the computer back. "I mean, does Zachariah really think we're going to fall for that again? How dumb does he think we are?" He paused. "Never mind, don't answer that."

Sam put the computer back on the desk, rocking the chair back on its back legs as he stretched, and Dean wondered idly how far he'd sprawl if—or, rather, when, given the state of the motel room—the thing finally broke. "I'm not so sure it's Zachariah."

"What do you mean, you're not sure? Of course it's him." Apparently Gabriel hadn't scared the bastard as much as he thought he had. Which didn't give him a lot of confidence in the other things that Gabriel had told them; not that he'd had much to start with. He nudged Cas' shoulder again, still to no effect.

"Do you remember what Zachariah said?"

"Before or after the torture started?" He couldn't believe that Sam was even considering that something else might be happening there.

It was Sam's turn to roll his eyes. "He said that when he noticed something supernatural happening there, he knew we'd show up eventually. Ergo, something supernatural was already there. Maybe whatever killed those hikers. And now the deputy."

"Or maybe he was lying through his teeth, and he's trying to set us up again. It's not as if he's got a long history of upfront behavior. Or, you know, any history of it." Dean shook his head. "I can't believe you want to go back there. Are you insane?"

"I just think we should check it out." He paused for a minute and then shrugged slightly. "I mean, I don't know about you, but I'm going kind of stir crazy in this motel room."

Dean couldn't exactly deny that he was starting to feel the same way. Still, assuming Gabriel had told the truth about keeping Cas hidden from the other angels—kind of a big assumption, but no one else had dropped in unexpectedly so it might be true—Dean didn't want to risk moving him out of whatever area that protective zone covered. Even if it did condemn them to this damn motel room for even longer. He probably should have asked Gabriel how far it was safe to move Cas, but he'd had other things on his mind at the time. Like not taking a swing at the jackass.

He snorted. And anyway, no matter how bored he might be or how much this place might be getting on his nerves, he didn't see walking into yet another trap as a good way to change things up. He glared at his brother. "Why can't you just go find a bar or a girl or something like a normal person?"

"Look, you stay here with him, and I'll go see if it's anything," Sam said. "I won't go into Cold Oak," he added quickly, "but I'll at least hit the coroner's office and check out the body. We never got a chance to do that last time." He checked his watch. "It'll be past ten by the time I get back there, and you know that nothing in that town stays open very late."

Dean still thought that it was a dumb idea, but Sam seemed pretty set on going, so he settled for shaking his head. "Just keep an eye out for the sheriff. We did kind of disappear without saying anything, and I don't think getting caught breaking and entering is going to help our case. And take some spray paint—you might need to anti-angel a few of the buildings." He'd suggest taking some holy oil as well, but there wouldn't be an easy way for Sam to use it, and anyway, he wanted to keep it on hand in case Gabriel was lying and Cas had another couple siblings getting ready to put in an appearance.

Sam nodded, grabbing the keys to the Impala off the nightstand and turning for the door. "I'll call you if I find anything."

"Yeah, you do that."

* * * * *

"I believe that Gabriel will maintain the wards until I am able to provide enough energy to sustain them on my own," Cas said, in between sips from the glass of water Dean offered.

Fortunately for Dean's nerves, Cas had awakened less than an hour after Sam had left, just as the basketball game finished. He had seemed all right when Dean had checked him over—he was far more alert than he had been the last time he'd been conscious, and his speech was no longer slurred—but given that he was now insisting that they could trust Gabriel, Dean suspected that he'd suffered some sort of angelic head injury somewhere along the line.

Apparently Cas read his disbelief in his face, because he frowned slightly and repeated more emphatically, "Gabriel will maintain the wards."

"So maybe this is all just a plot to keep us trapped here in Motel Hell," Dean suggested. "I mean, if the wards are here, I guess we have to be." As far as a trick to pull on someone, it was pretty pathetic, but he had a hard time believing that anyone who'd put he and Sam—especially Sam—through the hell that Gabriel had was capable of doing anything out of the goodness of his heart.

Cas' frown deepened, and he shook his head slightly. "The wards are tied to me rather than to a physical location. It would be perfectly safe to travel."

"Now you tell me." They could be halfway to Bobby's by now.

"It is difficult to communicate while unconscious."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sarcasm, Cas. Anyway, I trust Gabriel about as half as far as I could throw him, so—"

"You should not attempt to do that." Cas interrupted, his voice surprisingly firm for someone who was propped up against a headboard with a pillow on either side of him.

"I wasn't really planning to," Dean began, and then thought better of it. Given the opportunity, he probably would pitch Gabriel out a window, just on principle. He shook his head. "Never mind, that's not really the point. What I mean is, what makes you so sure he'll keep his word? I mean, even if the wards are still intact now—and I don't know if I'd care to bet on that—what if he changes his mind?" There had to be some kind of twisted 'lesson' involved here, somewhere.

Cas shifted slightly. "I know the wards are still in place; I can see them. And as to why I believe that he will maintain them…." He trailed off for a moment before shaking his head and continuing. "Gabriel did not…agree…with what Zachariah did. With what he was attempting to do. I do not believe that he will allow any of the others to attempt the same thing, especially now while I am unable to defend myself."

"So, what? All of a sudden he's supposed to be on our side?" That seemed pretty damn unlikely, considering their history.

"No," Cas said immediately. "He still believes that the only way for this to end is for you and Sam to agree to become vessels and for Michael and Lucifer and for one of them to kill the other. If Zachariah had just killed me outright, I do not think that he would have interfered." He cocked his head slightly. "In fact he said as much when we were speaking—that I should not expect his help in the future should one of the others simply come to destroy me."

"But he wouldn't let him torture you." Not that Dean could exactly blame him for that—he'd hated hearing Cas scream and not being able to do a damn thing to stop it—but being against torture but okay with killing seemed just a little messed up. Then again, considering what he'd seen of Cas' family thus far, 'a little messed up' was actually a pretty big improvement. But did it have to be Gabriel?

Castiel nodded in agreement.

Dean knocked his foot against the leg of the bed lightly. "Well, I'd still like to kick his ass."

"You should not attempt that either." Cas looked around the motel room. "Where is Sam? And why do I smell fish?"

Dean groaned. "Ask your brother." His jacket was never going to be the same again. "As for my brother, apparently someone else was found skinned—or at least reported skinned—and he thought someone should go check it out. I mean, you'd think Zachariah would be a little more creative." And Sam a little less stubborn, but that pretty much went without saying.

Cas frowned and shook his head. "It is unlikely to be Zachariah."

"What do you mean?"

"Gabriel was displeased with his behavior." He looked away for a long moment, staring out at the nearly black sky. "An archangel's wrath is not an…easy…thing to bear."

Coming from a guy who'd been blown to pieces by one. Dean didn't say anything and after a minute or two Cas continued.

"Even if Michael ordered Zachariah back down to Earth, which I admit is certainly possible, I would expect him to do his best to avoid you—or at least myself, which at the moment amounts to the same thing—for some time to come."

That was something, anyway, Dean supposed. "So maybe it's someone else. Who would be your next most sadistic sibling?" That earned him one of Cas' more exasperated looks, and he grinned. "What? It's a fair question." There was silence for a minute. "So if it's not some angel setting out bait, what do you think could be killing people?"

Cas lifted his shoulders slightly. "I have no more information than you do."

Dean frowned and then pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Maybe I'd better give Sam a call." He hit speed dial and put the phone to his ear, but rather than the ringing he expected…. "What the hell?" He lowered the phone, frowning at it.

"Is something wrong?"

"It went straight to voicemail." Of course, there were a dozen—or at least two or three—perfectly plausible explanations for that that didn't involve supernatural creatures or angels being dicks. The most likely of those was that Sam had shut it off temporarily while sneaking into the coroner's office, although why he wouldn't have just switched it to vibrate Dean didn't know. Or maybe he was in the middle of another call or sitting in jail after being picked up by the sheriff. He flipped his phone shut and glared at it. "Damn it."