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Wasn't this guy ever going to get tired? Dean dove sideways, rolling out of the way of Gagiel's lunge, and promptly smacked his shoulder on the lamp that Sam had left lying on the floor. He knocked it aside, cursing as he scrambled back to his feet, taking care to stay out of range. No, of course Gagiel wasn't getting tired, because he was a freaking angel. And an angel still hooked into Heaven, at that…he could probably hold out longer than the damn Energizer bunny.

Dean, on the other had, was only human, and unless he could figure out a way to end this soon, he was going to exhaust himself. He could already feel his muscles straining to keep up with what he was asking of them, and he knew he was in good shape. He made another wide swipe at Gagiel with Cas' sword, less with the expectation of connecting and more in the hope of driving the bastard back a few steps. Which worked, temporarily, at least, but he didn't expect it to last any longer than it had the last time he'd tried it, and no new brilliant ideas for his next course of action were springing to mind. A quick glance to the side showed that Cas and Zachariah were back to chasing each other around the table—Dean wasn't actually sure who was chasing who at the moment, but Cas was the one with the sword, which had to be a good thing—but Cas wasn't that long off bed rest. Hell, Cas wasn't that long off whatever the angelic equivalent of a coma was. However well he might be hiding it, he had to be getting worn out too.

Another dodge to the side, another strike at Gagiel, and he checked the other pair in the room. Gabriel and Raphael were still gazing deeply into each others eyes…offhand, Dean could think of a solid dozen inappropriate comments to make about that, but it could wait since at this point he just wanted one of them to give in a blink so they could get with the stabbing and shit. As long as the one archangel who didn't seem immediately inclined to make him and Sam meatsuits was here, couldn't he be just a little bit more proactive? He didn't even have to help Dean; swatting Zachariah again would be a perfectly acceptable thing to do.

Gagiel feinted sideways, poised to shift and attack quickly from the other direction as soon as Dean moved to block, but Dean had used that trick himself too many times to be fooled and didn't take the bait. Sam had made it out, at least, which left him one less person to worry about, but what could be taking—

Something changed suddenly. He wasn't sure what—he certainly didn't feel anything—but all five angels jerked their heads upwards at once and then the world went black around him. And then he was in a room he'd never seen before, standing in front of a television set that made the one that Gabriel had put in their motel room seem almost small in comparison. Castiel was beside him, his shirt and tie askew and what appeared to be a large coffee stain soaking into his trench coat, but at least he was still on his feet and with a sword in his hand. But why there was a scrawny little dog on the ground at their feet alternately sniffing their shoes and yapping at the two of them...

Before he could do more than take a single glance around, something flew over his head and impacted the wall with a heavy thump. "What it—Sam?"

Sam slid down the few feet to the floor, collapsing into a sitting position with a groan. "Dude, what the hell?"

"Are you all right?" Not seeing an immediate threat, Dean shoved Cas' sword into his belt and caught Sam's arm, pulling him to his feet. "What happened to you?"

"I don't know. One minute I was tearing off a roof shingle, and then I was flying, and then…wham." He punched a fist into his palm before rubbing the side of his head.

"Hey, enough with the complaining," Gabriel snapped. "How was I supposed to know that Sasquatch was going to be airborne? Between the split second I had to react and that mess little brother scratched into his ribcage—into both of your ribcages—you should count yourselves lucky that I managed to grab you at all. I could just as easily have ended up with a sparrow and a can of beer." He paused. "Actually, now that I think about it, I'd prefer the bird and the beer."

Dean twisted to scowl at him. Smartass comments aside, he was pretty damn sure that Gabriel hadn't been standing behind him a minute ago.

"So, what, I'm supposed to be grateful for a cracked skull?" Sam asked before Dean could say anything, still rubbing his head. "What did you drywall with anyway, concrete?"

"Crybaby. I mean, if you can't say 'thank you' for saving you, you could at least apologize for the Sam-shaped dent in my wall." Gabriel glanced down at the still-yapping dog. "Feel free to gnaw on their ankles all you want."

"Fine, thanks," Sam muttered, letting Dean lead him over to an overstuffed chair. Which had a ridiculous pile of empty candy wrappers on it, and after a moment of thought, Dean swept them all onto the floor. Gabriel was an angel; he could snap them away if he wanted to.

A second figure slumped into the other chair a second later, and Dean glanced over with a frown. "Cas? Are you all right?" He'd seemed okay a minute ago, but now he was looking more than a little dazed.

"I will be fine. That was…wearying." He looked down at the sword he still held. "Although our arsenal seems to be growing."

"Yeah, and that one was Zachariah's, which you know has got to piss him off," Dean said with a grin. Cas nodded slightly and then tucked it into his coat.

"You aren't going to pass out again or anything, right?"

"I…no."

Dean wasn't entirely convinced, but whether Cas was telling the truth or not, there wasn't much he could do, so he turned his attention back to Sam. "What happened to you? You said somebody threw you off a roof?" He leaned in a little closer. "I don't think you've got a concussion, but…." Despite the impact with the wall—which had left an impressive dent—Sam seemed to be tracking okay, and both of his pupils were the same size, but Dean made a mental note to keep an eye on him anyway.

"No, no, I'll be fine." Sam gave his head one last rub and then waved Dean off. "Long story short, it turns out that the wards were actually drawn on the roof of the motel, not the side, and there was an angel guarding them. An angel who wasn't limited by them." He shook his head slightly. "I yanked a shingle and hoped it would be enough to disrupt the pattern, and then she waved her hand and pitched me off the side, and then…well, here we are." He shrugged "What happened with Zachariah and Raphael and the other one?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. Gabriel zapped us all out of there as soon as the trap was broken." As little as he liked the archangel, the obnoxious bastard had done them a favor there.

"And you two are both okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, we're fine." He glanced over. "Right, Cas?"

It seemed to take Cas a moment to process the words, and then he nodded slightly, "I will live."

Not exactly a resounding affirmative, and he exchanged glances with Sam. Sam didn't seem to have anything useful to add, though, and after a minute he took another, slower look around. No windows, no doors—aside from a doggy door along one wall, presumably for the little yappy thing—nothing that gave him any kind of view of the outside world

"So, any idea where we are?" Sam asked, echoing Dean's thoughts as he craned his head to look over the back of the chair.

"Got me. I don't—hey, where did Gabriel go?" He checked the room again quickly, but there was no semi-psychotic archangel lurking in any corner that he could find. "Cas?"

Cas raised his head slowly, blinking a few times before his eyes finally focused on Dean. "Gabriel is as capable of concealing his movements from me as he is from the other angels. I don't know where he went."

"Great. Do you know at least know where we are? You said you've been here before, right? The other day?" He paused. "Or did he take you somewhere else?" For all he knew, Gabriel could have a thousand hiding places.

"No, I believe I have been here. This is Gabriel's place."

"Uh, yeah, I think we both guessed that much," Sam said after a minute. "But if you've been here, you know more about it than that, right?"

That earned him—well, both of them, actually—a decidedly irritated look. "Gabriel has warded this place to conceal from the others. From everyone. The last time I was here he brought me here; I don't know where or what it is tied to in the physical world. And I cannot go looking now. As I said, the fight has left me very tired."

That much was obviously true, and Dean decided not to press him any further, taking one last look around the room before sinking to the floor to lean against the chair Sam was sitting in. As long as they were stuck here, and until Gabriel got back or Cas felt better they seemed to be, they might as well make the best of the situation. "Well, do either of you happen to see a remote anywhere?"

Gabriel returned before the lack-of-doors, or of any kind of escape route, really got to Dean, but he didn't seem inclined to discuss his side trip. In fact, he didn't even acknowledge Dean's eyes on him or Sam's sleeping form in the chair beside Cas at all. And Dean didn't exactly have the means to go forcing the issue, especially since Cas had also fallen asleep leaving him without backup.

For lack of anything else to do, Dean matched Gabriel's silence, watching as Gabriel focused for a few minutes on Cas, snapped a bowl of dog food into existence for the yappy little creature that had been napping under Sam's chair, and then made a third chair appear beside Cas' before sitting back to watch the football game. Which somehow acquired a new line of scantily clad cheerleaders that popped into existence at the bottom of the screen and showed no inclination to pop back out regardless of the action happening behind them.

"Dude, what's your deal?" Dean finally demanded. Five minutes of quiet from the archangel was about all that he could stand.

Gabriel barely glanced in his direction. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah, right. First you torture us for the hell of it—several times, the last time with Cas included—and then you decide to save Cas' ass out of the blue, and now…." He shook his head. "Do you wake up in the morning and pick a side based on your Magic 8 ball or what? And why are you keeping us here?"