Writing Lucifer in Sam's dream was tricky given that he says he doesn't lie. And he didn't tell a lie. He twisted the truth to suit his own ends, but he didn't lie.

I'm still not sorry about that last cliffhanger, but do enjoy this chapter. It's rather emotionally heavy, so tread lightly.

On another note, I am so pleased that you guys love Gadreel! :D

Enochian is spoken like this.

Chapter 20

Gabriel had passed out despite Steve begging him not to, and it had been pretty heartbreaking to listen to. But he wasn't dead yet; the light escaping from under Steve's bloody hands was a clear sign that Gabriel was still fighting, and that was all that Dean needed to know at the moment.

That, and where the hell Lucifer had run off to. In Sam.

"Tony, Tony," Steve kept repeating Gabriel's human name. "Just hang on."

Gadreel appeared next to Steve, face set in hard lines. "Steve, please move." He didn't wait for Steve to do so, instead taking off the other's hands and replacing them with his own, trapping all the Grace from escaping.

Steve's face tightened, and he stepped back enough to let Gadreel work, his hands dripping red and sizzling slightly. Dean had to turn his head, the stench of roasting meat making him gag.

"Captain." Jarvis grabbed hold of Steve's hand, turning it up to look at the burnt skin.

"It'll be fine, J," Steve murmured distractedly, eyes on Gabriel.

Loki came in, bearing Raphael's body. He set her down in an armchair, and it was then that Dean noticed the blood in her shirt and the lack of life in her features.

"Fuck, she's dead?" Dean pressed a hand into his forehead. First Sam, then Gabriel, and now Raphael?

"Yes." Loki stepped back from her, focusing on Gabriel's body on the library table. "How is he?"

"Alive," Gadreel murmured, face set in concentration. "But injured. And I cannot heal him of this wound."

"Why not?" Steve blurted out.

"Only an archangel's blade can kill an archangel," Castiel said quietly from next to Steve, his face weary. "And wounds to the Grace that are inflicted by archangels' swords are impossible to heal except through time."

"He won't bleed out," Gadreel said, retracting his hand and smoothing over Gabriel's hoodie to mend the damage. "But there is nothing else I can do."

"Will he wake?" Jarvis asked.

Gadreel looked up, forehead tight. "I don't know," he said tersely. "But he needs to recover, and that will take time." His eyes went to Raphael. "Time we may not have any more, not with Lucifer in his vessel."

"Fuck," Dean breathed, sagging against Castiel for a brief second before forcing himself upright. He couldn't afford to slack off now. He had to keep it together, figure out a plan of attack.

"We are safe in here," Gadreel continued, standing straight. "Lucifer cannot pass through these walls so long as the wards remain intact." The bloody sigils they'd just spent the last ten minutes painting gleamed dully in the light.

"We're completely screwed, aren't we?" Kevin asked rhetorically, staring at Gabriel's motionless body. "Completely." He ran his hands through his hair, interlocking them behind his skull. "Why do I even bother?"

"We bother because it's the right thing to do," Steve said, voice rough. He looked up sharply at them. "And we're going to keep bothering because it'd be wrong to do anything else. It's the least we can do now, even if we don't succeed."

"Not your most inspirational speech, Cap," Dean said, hating himself for the words. Sammy…

Steve's smile was pained. "I'm not really feeling inspirational at the moment."

Dean drew in a breath through his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. The hole where Sam should be was so painfully apparent that Dean was having trouble adjusting. Again. This wasn't the first time he'd been without Sam, but now he also had a fucking archangel – the Devil – running around in Sam. Again.

They shouldn't have gone to sleep, letting Loki and Gadreel continue researching, But they'd all been pretty beat, and they'd needed a few hours to keep somewhat fresh and on top of things.

Now look at them.

"We'll figure this out," Castiel said softly, one arm winding around Dean's waist. "Don't we always?"

"I think that's my line, Cas," Dean murmured, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

"It doesn't make it any less true."

"How did you trap Lucifer last time?" Gadreel asked, getting Dean's attention. "Something with the rings?"

"The Horsemen's rings," Dean said, the only one here aside from Castiel who knew now that Sam was gone. "They could open the Cage. Sam said yes back then, met up with Michael. He managed to overpower Lucifer and throw them into the Cage." His grin was dark. "That's not going to work this time, though."

"We'll figure something else out," Castiel insisted, his grip on Dean's waist tightening comfortingly. "Kevin, have you found anything on the tablet?"

"Aside from the three trials that I finally translated?" Kevin grimaced. "No. Nothing on Lucifer, but there are a lot of notes from Metatron, like on the demon tablet. The guy's a pretentious dick."

"I do agree with that," Castiel said wryly. "I just wonder where he is."

"There was no sign of him in the Cage," Gadreel said. "And as he has been Cast out, he is no longer linked to the Host or Heaven." He'd said it before, but it was still satisfying to hear it again. "There is nothing he can do now if he is still alive."

"It's not like we'd be asking him for help anyway, even if we knew where he was," Dean said. "But we've gotta come up with a plan, and we've gotta come up with one fast. Lucifer's not going to be taking it slow now that he's got his suit back."

"What can we expect from him?" Steve asked, jaw set and his eyes shrewd.

"Lucifer is the Morning Star, the second most powerful archangel ever created," Gadreel said. "He is Michael's match in more ways than one. He is excellent at tactics."

"Angry," Castiel added, clearly remembering the last time he'd seen Lucifer. "Hurt. And vicious."

"So we've got an archangel with a grudge who's the equivalent of a military commander out there," Steve summed up. "Great. That's not bad at all." A sardonic lilt entered his voice toward the end. "And him being inside Sam – what does that mean?"

"Sam is his true vessel," Castiel explained, meeting Dean's eyes briefly. "Just as Dean's is Michael's. It means that he doesn't have to curtail his power, and he can remain inside Sam indefinitely without burning him out."

"No wonder he went through the trouble of entering Sam's dreams to obtain consent," Gadreel said. "That kind of power is not to be taken lightly."

"Does he have any weaknesses?" Loki asked. "Anything we can use to take him down?"

"Holy fire," Castiel said. "An archangel's blade. Enochian sigils and wards, as we've done here. But there isn't anything we can pull together right now, not with my Grace still missing and Gabriel injured."

"What about Heaven?" Steve pressed. "They've got to have some way of containing him."

Castiel was very still next to Dean. "I remember the Fall," he said quietly. "I remember the ways Lucifer ravaged our ranks during the battles until Michael finally faced him and Cast him out, imprisoning him in a Cage in the deepest depths of Hell. There was very little angels of my caliber could do against his might, and Michael very nearly failed. It wasn't just love that almost stayed his hand, but the near equivalence of their powers."

"So we are, as my father would say," Jarvis said slowly, "absolutely and unequivocally 'fucked.'" The crude word sounded weird coming from Jarvis, who had only ever been polite, soft-spoken, and demure during the time Dean had known him.

"He would say that," Steve agreed quietly, his face dropping as his eyes fell to Gabriel's still body on the table. Aside from his breathing, there was no sign of life from him.

It took Dean a moment to rally, sheer mulishness driving his actions. They'd beaten Lucifer once before, never mind that it had very nearly cost him everything; they could do it again, and this time they'd do it better. "Fuck that," he said sharply. "We're going to do this come hell or high water. So what if Michael's got a stick up his ass and won't come running to thrash Lucifer's ass into Hell this time. We don't need him. We can do this, and we're going to. Heaven or not, archangel or not, we can. We're not giving up."

Castiel was smiling unabashedly at him, the sight almost enough to make Dean blush. "Spoken like a Winchester," he said, a hint of pride in his tone.

This time Dean did flush, but thankfully only lightly. "Shut up, Cas," he mumbled, ducking his head.

It was a silent moment later before a light groan broke the air, and everyone's eyes snapped to a slowly stirring Gabriel on the library table.

"He's waking up." Castiel sounded surprised.

Gabriel groaned again, one hand coming to his stomach, and his eyes fluttered open, squinting slightly in the light before he squeezed them shut, his lips pinching.

"Tony?" Steve asked anxiously, leaning closer to Gabriel.

Gadreel had an odd look on his face, something close to incredulity. Dean guessed that Gabriel waking up so soon after what was almost a fatal wound was probably something to be surprised about.

But, hey, he wasn't complaining.

"Hey, Gabe," Dean said, also leaning forward over the table. "How you feeling?"

"Dean?" Gabriel sounded confused and not at all like Gabriel. "Why are you calling me Gabe?"

Dean stopped short, not exactly sure what to say to that.

Steve didn't seem to share the same qualms. "You don't remember?" He sounded stricken.

"I think I'd remember if I was Gabriel," Gabriel said, groaning again and slowly sitting up, wincing slightly.

"Not really," Steve said weakly, face pale. "What's the last thing you do remember?"

"Falling asleep," Gabriel answered, blinking and meeting Steve's eyes. "Why am I on the table?" He looked at Dean, confusion in his eyes. "Dean, what's going on?"

Dean felt completely at sea with this. Gabriel had never looked at him like this before. "Kinda hoping you could tell us that, Gabriel," he settled on saying.

"Christ, Dean, I'm not Gabriel," Gabriel said, irritation in his voice. "That's not funny. And why the hell does it feel like someone stabbed me in the stomach?"

Dean frowned. "Because you were? Is Lucifer stabbing you in the stomach and being zapped away not ringing any bells?"

Gabriel laughed. "I think I'd remember that happening, Dean. Lucifer hasn't shown his face yet."

"He has," Castiel said quietly, face similarly perplexed as Dean's. "How are you feeling, Gabriel?"

"Not you, too, Cas," Gabriel groaned, and it was the use of that nickname that was setting off alarm bells in Dean's brain, along with how Gabriel was moving. "Come on; this isn't funny anymore. Where the hell is Gabriel anyway?"

"So you remember who Gabriel is," Gadreel finally spoke, his voice neutral.

"'Course I do," Gabriel scoffed, sliding off the table. He stopped short, staring down in confusion at his hands and legs. "Dean…" His voice was rising in panic. "Please tell me you thought it'd be a great joke to change my clothes without me noticing and shrink me down a foot."

Dean stared, hardly daring to believe but a niggling hope rising in him.

"I thought so," Gadreel said neutrally. "Sam, you are currently inside Gabriel's vessel. Please do not panic."

Naturally, Sam did. And quite naturally, he blew up everything in the bunker while doing so.

Five minutes later, Gadreel had fixed the lights and Sam-in-Gabriel's-body was sitting, staring down at his hands as if he didn't believe they were his own.

Which they weren't, but eh, semantics. They were at the moment, and Dean would really like to know how the hell this was possible.

"If you're Sam, then where's Tony?" Steve asked, staring at Sam agitatedly. "He's not—"

"He's not dead," Sam interrupted, looking up at Steve with wide eyes that were all Sam. "I can feel him here, but he's…unconscious?" He frowned, eyes dropping. "I think. He's hurt," he added, one hand pressing to his stomach. "Really hurt; it's kind of painful actually."

"He got stabbed through the stomach," Dean said bluntly, "by Lucifer."

Sam winced. "Yeah, uh…he doesn't like hearing that. Kind of. It's like an electrical current." He flexed his hands. "It feels kind of uncomfortable," he admitted. "Like I'm gonna burst at the seams."

"That's not going to happen, is it?" Steve sounded alarmed.

"It won't," Gadreel assured him.

"You're sharing headspace with an archangel," Dean said. "If you said it felt roomy, I think we'd have a problem."

"How is this even possible?" Sam felt his face, fingers running over the goatee and his nose. "I…" He trailed off, clearly unable to voice his confusion.

"The archangels have abilities we don't," Gadreel said, sharing a glance with Castiel. "I have no idea what Gabriel did, but it is helping him."

"This is helping?" Loki sounded skeptical.

"Sam is serving as a buffer for Gabriel," Gadreel said. "Keeping his energy contained and the wound Lucifer inflicted closed. I believe it similar to what you humans would do when cauterizing a wound."

"So I'm a band-aid," Sam said.

"Of a sort, yes." Gadreel studied him. "I have never seen it done before."

"Neither have I," Castiel said, arms folded across his chest, "and I've seen some strange things."

"So what does this mean?" Sam shifted, one hand going to his stomach. "Lucifer's just walking around in my body? Is Gabriel going to be okay?"

"Gabriel will heal," Gadreel said firmly. "But it will take time. As for Lucifer…" He drifted off, frowning.

"About that…" Dean glared hard at Sam. "You said yes, Sam? What the hell?"

"I didn't know!" Sam protested.

"How do you not notice you're saying yes to Lucifer?"

Sam's fingers tightened on his knees. "I didn't know it was him," he repeated.

Dean instantly understood what Sam meant. "So whose face was he wearing that you said yes to him wearing you to prom?"

"Yours, Dean!"

Blinking in stunned astonishment, Dean found himself at a loss for words. Had he really heard that right? Finally, he managed a choked, "You said yes to me? What happened to all that 'let me do my own thing, Dean'?" He did a crude approximation of Sam's voice.

"First of all, I don't sound like that," Sam said prissily, his bitch face looking strange on Gabriel's face. "Second, I didn't know, Dean. I thought it was you. And he…" He blinked. "He acted like you." A soft laugh later and he added, "And isn't that just fucked up."

"I would've thought you'd punch him in the face," Dean said, mouth dry. "Seeing as how he was being me and all."

"He said he wanted to help," Sam said softly, looking down at his hands. "And…I'm tired, Dean. He knew that; you know that. I didn't think anything of it when he said he could help, because that's what you do. And I might be angry with you, Dean," he continued earnestly, meeting Dean's eyes, "but that doesn't mean you're not my brother. And I trust you." His smile was more of a grimace. "I just shouldn't have here."

"Lucifer can be extraordinarily persuasive," Gadreel said, tone self-deprecating. "Better angels and men have fallen prey to his silver tongue, Sam. Myself included."

"I just feel like an idiot," Sam said forlornly. "Because now he's in my body again, and we're all completely screwed nine ways to hell. Gabriel's in no shape to be doing anything." He winced slightly, pressing the heel of his hand to his stomach.

"You can feel his pain?" Steve asked quietly.

"Sort of." Sam looked down at his free hand, turning it around. "It's like an undercurrent of something warm under my skin, something that doesn't belong to me. And it's…painful here." His hand pressed hard against his stomach. "And here." His other hand gestured to his throat. "And everywhere else, really." He grimaced.

And he'd gone out and faced Lucifer feeling like that? Dean could scarcely believe it. Gabriel had changed a lot from the cowardly archangel who hadn't been willing to stick it to his family and who'd rather snack on candy and play at being a Trickster.

"So what do we do now?" Kevin asked, shooting Dean a questioning look. "'Cause I've got bupkis, Dean."

Gadreel's head snapped up, eyes going to the ceiling. "Naomi." The word was flat.

Dean groaned. "What does she want now?"

"Let's go see," Steve said grimly.

"She's alone," Gadreel said, already moving.

And she was. Naomi didn't look at all pleased to be seeing them all again so soon after the last time, though she did look noticeably nervous about apparently facing Gabriel again.

Well, Dean would, too, especially after that freaky lightshow Gabriel had pulled when that angel had gone after Jarvis. He'd never seen Gabriel so angry before; he'd only ever seen Gabriel hurt or pained or annoyed. And amused.

Naomi's chin jutted out when she saw Gadreel, and she shifted in a way that Dean recognized as puffing her wings. Castiel had pulled that move often enough for him to be able to recognize that.

"Lucifer has reclaimed his true vessel," Naomi started flatly. "Do you have a plan, Gabriel?" She looked at Sam, only to do a noticeable double take upon seeing him. "You're not Gabriel."

"Uh, no. Sorry." Sam grinned sheepishly, ducking his head. "But he's in here," he added.

"Sam Winchester?" Naomi sounded incredulous. "How?"

"A question that I am sure Gabriel would be willing to answer once he has recovered," Gadreel said diplomatically.

"Where's Raphael?" Naomi demanded, eyes scouring them all.

Gadreel visibly hesitated before answering, "She is dead."

"Well, that's just great." Naomi huffed. "So Gabriel is injured, Michael hasn't shown his face in Heaven, and Lucifer is on the loose. Do you have any other news you'd like to share?"

"Do you have anything?" Dean asked bluntly, getting her attention. "Because I'm guessing you don't want Lucifer free anymore than we do, and we could use the help."

"There's nothing," Naomi said. "No one in Heaven is strong enough to combat Lucifer directly except for Michael. There are no containment methods that can imprison him indefinitely, and he'd kill you before you could even attempt it."

"And Michael hasn't shown his face." Dean's hands curled into fists at his sides. He had an inkling of a plan, but this was going to suck.

"Dean, please share your thoughts before you decide to go off and do it yourself," Castiel said, resigned.

"I wouldn't," Dean scoffed. "But…I don't think you'll like it."

"Any plan's better than none," Steve said. "And we can tweak it."

"There's not much tweaking for this one," Dean said. He looked at Naomi. "You say Michael's the only one who can face him? Then why don't we ask him to do it?"

"No one's seen him since the Cage has broken," Naomi pointed out, face skeptical.

"Then we summon him," Dean argued. "Trap him in holy fire so he can't get out and then we talk."

"Let me get this straight. You want to summon and trap the Commander of the Host – the eldest of us all – in a ring of holy fire and hope he listens to you?"

"Why not?" Dean set his jaw stubbornly. "It's not like we've got anything else to lose at this point."

"He's got a point," Sam said, shrugging. He looked uncomfortable in his borrowed skin. "Besides, if he's not gearing up to face Lucifer now, he probably won't hurt us if we just want to talk. And…" A strange expression crossed his face. "I think Gabriel wants it."

"Has he said anything?" Gadreel asked.

"No, it's…kind of like a feeling. Gabriel wants to talk with him." Sam made a face, rubbing at his chest. "So, uh…are we going to do this?"

"Oh, why not." Naomi sounded resigned.

"You're helping?" Castiel asked.

"You think I want Lucifer running around?" Naomi's smile was sad. "It's not what we need, Castiel. I was wrong before, and I'm sorry for what I did. I know it's not enough, but it's true, and this is just one way I can start repenting."

Castiel squared his shoulders. "Then…is it possible for me to regain my Grace? I may need it for this."

Dean's head snapped to him, breath coming fast. Castiel had said nothing about reconsidering his stance on being human. But then…why would Castiel want to be human now? It was too dangerous. And they could use another powered angel on their side.

"Castiel…" Naomi's tone didn't bode anything promising, and her face was sympathetically patronizing in the way that Dean absolutely hated. "I'm sorry, but your Grace…it's gone. What Metatron did…your Grace was used up in casting the spell, serving as the battery."

Castiel had gone white. "He did what?"

"He was judged for it," Naomi said. "Judged and Cast out, but I know it's not enough. Not for what he took from you."

"So there's no hope," Castiel murmured, eyes devastated. Dean instinctively reached out to comfort him, fingers interlacing with Castiel's, who clung back desperately.

"I'm sorry," Naomi repeated, a useless platitude that would do absolutely nothing to help them.

Loki made an impatient noise. "If that is all, how do we get started with summoning Michael? And where should we do it?"

"Loki," Jarvis muttered reprovingly.

"We have no time to waste," Loki snapped back. His eyes met Dean's. "Well?" he demanded.

"Yeah, uh…" Dean took a breath, going over what they would need for this and where they had to do it.

He wasn't at all nervous about talking to Michael for the first time since Stull Cemetery. Not at all.

Judging from Sam's and Castiel's faces, he wasn't doing a good job at hiding his anxiety. Great.

Several hours later, they'd pulled everything together and set up a warehouse for the summoning. Kansas had a lot of them in easy driving distance, which Dean wasn't complaining about. It made things easier, especially since he didn't want to drive too far from the bunker if it wasn't necessary.

The holy oil had been poured, and in the middle was the sigils and goblet for summoning Michael. Naomi took point on the left side of the circle, Loki directly opposite Dean; Steve and Jarvis opposite Naomi; and Sam, Gadreel, and Castiel stood by Dean. Naomi was going to cast the actual spell.

Naomi gave Dean one last look before stepping into the circle of holy oil and over to the goblet, lighting a match and dropping it into the bowl. It fizzled and sparked, the contents catching afire. Then, speaking in that guttural language Dean recognized as Enochian, Naomi began walking backwards, eyes not leaving the flaming goblet.

The words hung in the air, heavy with power and magic.

Dean fidgeted with his lighter, prepared to light it on a moment's notice.

One moment the circle was empty, and the next Michael stood there, facing Naomi. "Naomi."

"Michael." Naomi tilted her chin up, meeting Michael's gaze directly with a small smile.

Dean lit the lighter, dropping it. The oil caught fire in an instant, springing to life around Michael. "Hey, Michael."

Michael turned to him, wearing Adam's face. Dean didn't even know why he was surprised; it was the vessel he'd gone into the Cage with. "Dean."

"I'd say it's good to see you," Dean said, "but it really isn't." He hesitated shortly before asking curtly, "Where's Adam?"

There was a brief flicker of what might have been regret before it vanished and Michael dropped his eyes. "He is in Heaven."

There was a relieved sigh from Sam, something that Dean completely agreed with. A tinge of guilt niggled at him; he honestly hadn't even thought of Adam in years what with all the problems they'd had.

Michael's eyes rose to meet Dean's, something hard in them. "Why have you summoned me?"

Dean shifted mental tracks, jaw tightening. "I'd thought that'd have been obvious. Lucifer ringing any bells?"

Michael inhaled deeply, his face suddenly weary. "I want nothing to do with it."

"Yeah, tough luck. That's not gonna be happening."

Michael didn't respond immediately, his eyes going to the men next to Dean. "Gadreel."

Gadreel didn't react beyond shifting subtly to stand taller.

"And…Sam?" Michael frowned, evidently confused at Sam's new face.

"Yeah, it's me," Sam said, glancing at Dean. "Your brother's walking around with my face, so I thought I'd get a new one."

Michael met Dean's eyes again. "I won't do anything," he repeated.

"See, that's funny," Dean said. "You were the one who sicced a bunch of angels on my tail trying to get me to fucking say yes last time round. You dumped me in an alternate future, you resurrected Adam and tortured him to get me to say yes, and now you're saying you want out? Bit late for that, Michael."

"That wasn't me," Michael said. "What Zachariah did was not on my orders."

Dean stared him down. "But you didn't stop him. In my book, that makes you just as guilty as him."

"What do you want from me?" Michael sounded weary. "An apology? A promise? I'm not interested in the apocalypse anymore. I won't raise my sword to Lucifer."

"So you're willing to let Lucifer run free and do what he wants?" Castiel sounded disbelieving. "What happened to you?"

Michael's gaze swept over Castiel. "I could ask the same of you, brother."

Castiel's eyes tightened, his jaw tensing. "Ask Metatron."

Michael's eyes averted. "He's dead."

Gadreel, Dean, Castiel, and Naomi all spoke at the same time. "What?"

"How do you know?" Naomi demanded.

"Because he was in the Cage with us," Michael answered heavily. His lips thinned. "He didn't survive."

"And you did nothing," Gadreel stated, an undercurrent of disgust and disappointment in his tone.

"There was nothing I could do," Michael said.

Sam stiffened next to Dean. "You keep telling yourself that, big bro."

Dean's head snapped around to him, eyes widening upon seeing who was clearly Gabriel and not Sam anymore. Gabriel had his right arm wrapped around his torso, and his eyes were fever bright.

Michael's eyes widened. "Gabriel? What did you do?"

"Gave a soul refuge from the mechanisms of Lucifer," Gabriel said, eyes hard. "Not that you'd know anything about that."

Michael tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "What happened to you?"

Gabriel's grin was all teeth. "Doesn't look too pretty, does it?" His feet shifted under him, widening his stance slightly. "Thank Lucifer. Again."

Silence fell, broken only by the crackling of the flames around Michael.

"Are you going to help us or not?" Dean asked eventually, looking away from Gabriel's stony face to Michael.

Something flickered in Michael's expression. "There's no reason to."

It took a moment for the words to register for what they meant. And even then Dean didn't understand. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"There's no reason," Michael repeated inanely. "We're done. Father doesn't care. Anything we do doesn't matter."

"Is this an existential crisis?" Gabriel bit out, eyebrows raised incredulously. "Is that what you were telling yourself down in the Cage while Lucifer was having it out with me?" His voice broke slightly on the last part.

"He would have stopped eventually," Michael said.

"So you did nothing," Gabriel said flatly. "And you thought that after it was all done and over with we'd have a tea party? What the fucking hell, Michael?" His voice rose in a shout.

"There was no use interfering," Michael said in such an aggravatingly even tone that Dean was surprised Gabriel was holding it together as well as he was. "It took centuries before he and I finished with each other, and he needed to do the same with you."

Gabriel seemed to stagger back, face stricken. His mouth worked, but no sound came out except for those little hitching whines.

"Are you even hearing yourself, Michael?" Gadreel demanded, steely anger in his tone. "I watched you, you know, before I finally broke in. I saw what Lucifer was doing. And you just—"

"You stood there and watched as he tore me apart!" The scream sent a wash of unbridled power against Dean, sending all his hairs on end and chills down his spine; the walls of the warehouse rattled ominously. He unconsciously took a step back, not wanting to be so near a volatile archangel. "I begged you to help; I begged him to stop, but neither of you listened! And then"—he heaved in what seemed more like a ragged sob than a breath—"he stopped even that. What's your excuse, Michael? How far did you fall?"

Michael's eyes tightened. "You left."

"So what if I left? You weren't there! The only thing you wanted to hear from me was when the fucking apocalypse would start! You think you were the only one hurt by what Lucifer pulled? He was my brother, too! We needed you – we all needed you – and you ignored us!

"You shoved your duties on me and left us alone. Then Raphael went off on her own spin and there was me." Gabriel heaved in a breath, cheeks white in anger. "Just me," he continued in a quieter tone. "What was I supposed to do? I'm no leader – nothing special. And you guys were gone." He held his head high. "So, yeah, I fucking left. I went out on my own.

"And maybe I shouldn't have. But let me tell you this, Michael"—the word was Enochian but Dean somehow still understood clearly what it said and the power behind it; the flinches from the other angels just sold it—"nothing I did even holds a candle to what you and Raphael pulled. You violated our brothers and sisters; you orchestrated an apocalypse and interfered in ways you had no right to. Did you forget Dad's other message? The one about being their protectors?"

"We wanted Him to come back," Michael said, something lost in his tone. "We thought He would step in and stop us if it wasn't right – if it wasn't what He wanted. But He never did, so we thought—"

"There was nothing you could do to stop it," Gabriel finished heavily, fine trembles running through his frame. "Maybe Paradise would bring Dad back after all. Is that right? But you were wrong."

"I thought He would come when we were in the Cage." Michael's shoulders hunched. "I was the good son—"

"If you were so good, Michael, then why didn't He?" Gabriel's lips curled into a sneer. "You trampled over humans' free will, orchestrating fate to your own ends. But that's not even it. Did you ever even stop to think that maybe He didn't want it?"

Michael frowned, looking up at Gabriel. "What do you mean?"

"Free will, Michael," Gabriel said. "It's a beautiful thing, and not just for humans."

"You don't know of what you speak."

"Don't I?" Gabriel's smirk was dark. "I'm the Messenger. We've got free will, Michael. We've got the choice to decide what to do. And you've got a decision on your hands. Are you going to take care of Lucifer?"

Michael stared silently at Gabriel, his eyes dark.

For a second, Dean thought this might work, that Michael would say yes and kick Lucifer's ass and do something to contain him or kill him, but then Michael's eyes dropped, and that wasn't the look of a man who was going to help.

"If you say we have the choice, Gabriel," Michael said softly, "then I choose not to. I fought him before because it was my destiny – something I had to do. Now that you've told me this…I won't raise my sword to him. I can't. He's my brother."

"And I'm not?" Gabriel's voice was just as soft. "Like Raphael isn't? He killed her; he tried to kill me. It's luck I'm still alive. You're just going to let him go?"

Michael's eyes dropped to the floor. "Yes. If I don't have to fight him…I won't." His smile was weary. "I'm so tired, Gabriel."

Gabriel stared at him, eyes wide and dark. Finally, he nodded jerkily. "If that's how you want to play it, fine." He spun on his heel, only a slight hint of unsteadiness any sign that he wasn't fine.

"Gabriel—" Naomi started.

"He can stay here," Gabriel said, not looking at her. "Let him stew in his own thoughts. If anyone in the Host decides to interfere or get him out, tell them that they're going to have a very unhappy me on their hands, and they do not want to piss me off." He didn't wait for a response, already pushing his way outside.

Gadreel was looking at Michael with such a disappointed expression that Dean felt chilled just standing next to him. "I thought better of you, brother," he said eventually.

Michael said nothing, his eyes downcast.

It was that image that stuck in Dean's mind as they followed Gabriel out: Michael surrounded by a circle of flickering flames in a dark warehouse, his face turned down. It was a far cry from the terrifying archangel that had hounded Dean's heels during the apocalypse.

Gabriel was leaning over the Impala, his back to them, and Dean could see his white fingers and the way they were clutching at his stomach. It struck him that Gabriel hadn't once moved his right arm through the entire conversation, instead keeping it wrapped around his torso.

Then he hit the ground, his knees giving way without warning.

Steve was first to react, at Gabriel's side a second later. "Tony!"

Gadreel was there an instant later, helping Steve turn him over so Gabriel was leaning against the Impala, his face pale.

A few seconds later he blinked his eyes open, looking dazed. "What happened?" The words were slightly slurred. His eyes focused on Dean, confused. "Where's Michael?"

Dean crouched down to Sam's level, keeping his eyes off Steve's sucker-punched expression. He knew all too well what it felt like to see the face of one you loved but not have that person looking back. "We talked with him. No go."

"Okay." Sam sounded dazed, looking down at the arm still wrapped around his torso. He slowly moved it, wincing slightly. "Um…was Gabriel out?"

"Yeah. You don't remember?"

"No, uh…it just gets dark." Sam blinked, flexing his fingers and rubbing his right forearm like it was cramping. "Michael's really not going to help?" He instantly grimaced. "Oh, okay."

"What?"

"Gabriel's not happy." Sam accepted Dean's hand to help him to his feet, wobbling only slightly before steadying. "And…I don't think he should've done that. Whatever he did. He feels weaker than before." He made a face. "Oh, shut up."

"Is he talking to you?" Dean asked curiously.

"More like pushing images and sensations at me," Sam said, shaking his right arm out before letting it rest at his side. "He's…kind of pissed at Michael. Like, really."

"So am I," Gadreel said evenly, giving the warehouse a glare that spoke volumes.

"I'm disappointed in him," Castiel admitted, hands in his trench coat pockets. "I thought he would help."

"So did I," Naomi said, sighing. "So what now?" Her eyes went to Sam as if expecting him to have a reply from Gabriel.

"Ah…" Sam looked vaguely like a deer caught in headlights. "Bunker?" he suggested weakly.

"We don't have a plan," Dean said bluntly, drawing everyone's attention, "so why the hell not." He turned to Naomi, not wanting her in the bunker even with her apparent change of heart. "No offense but I don't trust you."

Naomi didn't look at all surprised by this. "I understand." She took a step back. "I'll see what I can do in Heaven. Maybe Lucifer will give us a little more time to come up with something."

Dean blinked and she was gone. "You do that," he said to the empty air.

"I feel rather like throttling him," Loki said mildly, his back to them. Dean had no doubt that if he could, Loki would have already set fire to the warehouse with the power of his mind. "Or maybe killing him." His head turned to look at Gadreel. "Is that what you saw down there? Him standing idly by while Gabriel was tortured?"

There was a cracking sound, and everyone looked at Sam to find him staring in stunned shock at the simmering crack between his feet.

"Can we not talk about that while in earshot of me?" Sam asked, looking up and stepping away from the crack. "It kind of hurts."

To be honest, everything kind of hurt at the moment, and Dean just wanted to bury himself in his bed with Castiel and wait for it to all blow over. But he couldn't. That wasn't his job, and that wasn't him.

But for once, couldn't things have been easy?

Gabriel hurt.

It wasn't like before. Those wounds had for the most part been superficial, healable. This wasn't. This was a wound in his Grace that leeched at his core, an empty hole from which his energy leaked out of, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Sam's soul slowed it down, acting as a buffer of sorts, but it wouldn't work forever.

He was running out of time – time he didn't have.

And this was beyond stupid. This was insane. Gabriel didn't even have a plan this time, not even a faint inkling of one beyond trying to see if he could reason with the other. He had safeguards in place, of course, but they restricted his abilities as well. And Gabriel was weak enough as is, his Grace leaking out of him like a sieve despite Sam's soul buffering it.

He'd only made it worse with taking over to talk to Michael, but that had been needed. He'd needed to talk to Michael – to understand.

But it hadn't really made any sense. All it did was confuse and hurt him more because Michael hadn't thought it worth it to step in and stop Lucifer. Gabriel had begged him for help – he remembered that distantly – but nothing had come.

So, Michael was a useless lump, but then Gabriel hadn't really expected anything different (but he'd hoped).

Raphael was dead, and she'd been human anyway. That left Gabriel to deal with this. Weak or not, he was still an archangel.

But he was terrified. Even facing the Leviathan, that could literally eat angels, hadn't terrified Gabriel to this point because he'd had it handled. Kind of.

This was something else. This was a fear that went down to his core and had been beaten and torn into him for years. This was something Gabriel couldn't handle, but by his Father, he was going to try.

He wasn't the same angel he'd been in his last life. He was human now, too, for all intents and purposes, and there was no flipping way in hell that he was going to let a temper tantrum destroy this world – his old home.

So no matter how scared he was; no matter how much he didn't want to do this, he was going to.

Because someone needed to.

Staring down at the circle he'd put together and feeling the binding magic of the numerous Enochian sigils he had drawn all over the empty warehouse, Gabriel dropped the match into the summoning goblet.

That scene with Michael was so tricky to get down because it was all from Dean's POV, and he has no idea what's going through Gabriel/Tony's head.

So, this cliffy isn't that bad, is it?