Thank you so much Jenjoremy for the awesome beta job, and VegasGranny and Ncsupnatfan for pre-reading.

Chapter Thirty-One

Mary had allowed Bobby to drive them to meet Dean and Castiel as she was wound too tight to be confident behind the wheel. To his credit, Bobby didn't waste time. He raced them along the roads to Route 88, skidding to a stop beside the Impala when they reached it.

Mary jumped out of the car and ran to Dean who was pacing up and down in front of wrought iron gates while Castiel watched with worried eyes.

She caught Dean on a turn and threw her arms around him. "It's okay," she soothed. "We'll find him."

Dean stayed tense in her embrace and pulled back after only a moment.

"What exactly happened, Castiel?" she asked.

Castiel drew a slow breath and then said in a rush. "We were in the cemetery. Dean had gone to get the shovels and Sam and I were waiting. We were talking when the mausoleum door flew open and a ghoul ran out. He looked like an old man and then turned into Michael—in the vessel from your world, Bobby. He knocked me out and… I don't know what happened. When I woke up, Sam was gone."

"But it wasn't really Michael," Bobby said.

"No. There was no grace. A mere seraph could hide themselves from me in a vessel, but an archangel never could. They're too all-encompassing."

"So, a ghoul knocked you out?" Bobby asked. "That's great. I thought angels were tougher than that."

Castiel flinched. "A blow with the right strength… I'm sorry."

"It obviously wasn't a regular ghoul," Dean said quietly, returning to his pacing. "Ghouls can't change what they look like on the move like that. They can only change when they've eaten, and there's no way a ghoul could have gotten at the old vessel. There was nothing left to eat."

"So it was one of Michael's monsters," Bobby said. "Is it a new one, does he have a vessel, or is this one he created when he had you, Dean?"

Dean stopped and glared at him. "How would I know? It's not like I was watching what he was doing when he was in me. I was distracted."

"Trapped in a dream," Bobby said doubtfully.

Dean glowered. "Yes!"

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Seems a little convenient to me."

Dean marched forward and got into Bobby's face. "Been high-jacked by many archangels, Bobby?"

Bobby stepped back and said, "No. But I know Michael. He wasn't the type to give people the kindness of a dream when he could make them really suffer."

Dean lurched forward again, and Mary put herself between the two men, her hand on Dean's chest. She thought Bobby was right that there was more to Dean's possession than he was saying—he'd put her in a cage and he'd had Zachariah screw with Jack's mind—but now wasn't the time to discuss it. Not with Sam missing.

"This isn't helping," she said firmly. "We need to concentrate on getting Sam back."

"Yeah," Dean said, stepping back and running a hand over his face. "I don't know where to start though. There was nothing in the cemetery to show where he went."

"Then we need to spread the search," Bobby said. "It was a private place, so who had access?"

"I guess anyone could get in," Dean said. "We did. And there was a groundskeeper that Cas put out. The family could be there, I guess.

"So we start with them," Mary said.

"You do that," Bobby said. "I'll put a call in to the others and tell them to stand down. If this is some kind of super-ghoul, the other monsters we're looking for might be powered-up, too, and there's more than one of them in town. They can handle themselves, but even we'd struggle with more than one at once. I'll get them to bunker in at the motel."

"No," Mary said firmly. "They can't go after the monsters, but they can still help. I don't want them up against this ghoul or any other grace-fueled monster, but they can scout out the town and see if there are any places that look likely for what took Sam to use as a base." When Bobby looked uncertain, she went on, "They can handle this."

And it was her son that was in danger. She wasn't leaving people sitting around a motel when they could be helping.

"I'll go to the house and see if there's anything that can help us there," she said. "They might have seen something helpful."

"I'm coming," Dean said.

Castiel nodded and then stopped and his eyes widened as an idea presented itself. "No! We need you, Dean. Sam found you in Duluth with a blood spell Rowena told us about. You have the family connection; we can use your blood."

"So does Mom," Dean pointed out.

Castiel looked pained as he said, "I know, but do you think you can be calm to interview possible witnesses for this? I will go with Mary and you can call Rowena for the spell."

Mary thought Castiel was right. Dean wasn't handling what had happened well—though neither was she—and if he could be doing something practical to find him, it would help him cope. And she was better with witnesses than Dean.

"I've got a good store of ingredients back at the motel," Bobby said, his tone conciliatory now as he spoke to Dean. "You and I can go there and work the spell. Your mom and Castiel can check out the family."

Dean drew a deep breath through his nose and nodded. "Yeah. Okay. But if you find anything helpful, you call us first."

"We will," Mary promised. "And you do the same." She hugged him again and said, "It's going to be okay, Dean. We're going to find him."

"I know," Dean said, but she knew it was a lie from his tone alone.

He went to the Impala and climbed in, starting the engine and pulling away as soon as Bobby was in beside him.

Mary watched them go and then went to her own car and climbed in.

Castiel slid in beside her and said. "It really is going to be okay, Mary. We'll find him."

"Do you really believe that, or are you telling me what I want to hear?

Castiel fixed his startlingly blue eyes on her and said, "I am saying what I believe."

Mary nodded and forced a smile as she started the engine and pulled onto the road.

The house was only a short drive away, connected to the cemetery, and Mary checked the name carved into the stone wall before making the turn through the open gates with mounted lions on the posts and drove up to the house. It was large and impressive, and the cover story she'd been mulling over would work perfectly.

She pulled them to a stop and climbed out, quickly walking to the door. She waited until Castiel was at her side before saying, "Stay quiet and play along, Cas," and knocking on the door.

It was opened by a middle-aged man that smiled welcomingly and asked, "How may I help you?"

Mary pasted on a smile that felt awkward but apparently looked genuine enough to please the man and said, "Hello, we're from the Oklahoma Historical Society and we were hoping we could speak to someone about the house and estate."

The man's smile grew. "The Historical Society! How exciting. Please, come in." He stepped back and held open the door as they entered. "I'm Neil and I work for the family. I can tell you a lot about the house and grounds as I am an amateur historian myself. Ms. Sasha isn't home at the moment, and Mr. Rawlings is indisposed, but I can tell you anything you need to know."

Mary heard the sound of beeping machines that took her mind irresistibly back to the Duluth hospital and some of the worst moments of her life.

"Is someone ill?" Mary asked.

"Yes, Mr. Rawlings," Neil said. "He recently suffered a stroke."

He gestured to open double doors and Mary caught sight of a man in a bed with various machines surrounding him. He started to lead them along the hall, but Castiel was walking into the room.

"Cas!" Mary hissed.

Castiel ignored her and walked into the room. Mary rushed after him and grabbed his arm, but Castiel pulled free and said, "I've seen that man, Mary."

"You've seen him?" Neil asked. "Have you been here before?"

"No," Castiel said. "He was the ghoul I saw."

Mary's eyes widened. "But he's alive!"

"I'm sorry, a ghoul?" Neil asked. "Is that some sort of shorthand? Or is it code?" He frowned. "Why would you have code?"

"It's not code, it's a monster," Castiel stated. "A monster that can take the shape of the last person it ate."

Neil gasped. "Ate!"

"Maybe not be that honest, Cas," Mary said.

Neil looked from Mary to Castiel, his lips parted with shock and his eyes wide. He looked on the verge of speech but the door opened behind them and a woman called, "Neil? Whose car is outside?"

"Ours," Castiel said as the pretty woman came through the hall to them.

She looked past them at the man on the bed. "What are you doing in here? My father needs rest. You need to leave!"

"We can't," Castiel said firmly. "My friend, her son, has been taken by a ghoul that looked like your father, and we need to know how."

"Neil, show them out," she said, her voice rising. "Get out now!"

"Yes, Ms. Sasha." Neil looked awkward as he tried to guide Mary to the door. She stood firm and Castiel pushed the man's hand away when it reached for him.

Mary was struggling for a way to handle the situation, knowing they couldn't leave yet, but at that moment a distraction came in the form of another man in dirt-stained overalls running in. His eyes landing on Castiel, he pointed and said, "You! What did you do to me?"

"It's okay, Jeffrey," Neil said. "These people are just leaving."

"No, we're not," Castiel growled. "We are staying until we understand how this man's face was on a ghoul when it took my friend."

Neil looked uncomfortable. "There's no such things as monsters."

"Monsters?" The woman, Sasha, asked.

Castiel sighed and straightened his back. The shadows of tattered wings spread on the wall behind him and he spoke in a fierce growl. "I am an Angel of the Lord. Monsters are real. One of them has my friend, and that man in the bed is the only clue we have, so you can all be quiet and do as we say."

Sasha opened her purse and pulled out a yellow bottle of pills. She shook one into her palm, frowned, added another and then dry swallowed them. "Monsters," she said weakly.

Neil seemed even more eager now than he had when he thought they were historians. "An actual angel…" he said wonderingly.

"Yes," Castiel said. "Now, we need to know, has that man left his bed?"

"No," Sasha said derisively. "He's in a coma. Has been for weeks."

Mary looked to Neil and said, "Have you seen anything strange at all? Has there ever been a sign that he's moved from this bed?"

Neil shook his head jerkily. "No. I am his attendant. I would have known."

"Then what the hell is it, Cas?" Mary asked.

"I don't know," Castiel said. "But I am going to find out."

"How?" Mary asked.

Castiel strode deeper into the library and approached the edge of the bed. "I'm going to ask him."

Before Sasha could do more than snort and say, "That might be a little hard," Castiel had his hand pressed to the man's forehead and his eyes closed.

Mary watched, breath held, as Castiel concentrated and then stepped back from the bed and opened his eyes.

"I can only see the surface," he said looking at Sasha. "You have a complicated relationship with your father. He's very aware of that right now. He regrets it. He is thinking of it at this moment."

"Cas!" Mary snapped. "How is this helpful?"

Castiel shook his head jerkily and apologized. "It's not. I don't know why the ghoul looked like the man though. He has not been fed on."

Mary closed her eyes. "Then what the hell do we do?"

Castiel shrugged helplessly and Mary turned away as her phone began to ring. Sending up thanks for the distraction that would save her showing her weakness in front of these strangers, she checked the caller ID then connected the call and said, "Dean?"

"We did the spell," Dean said curtly. "All we know is that he's somewhere in town. We can't narrow it down any closer. The damn spell is being blocked somehow."

"Okay," Mary said. "Come to us. We're at the family estate. It's not far from the cemetery. Look for lions on the gate posts."

"How is coming to you going to help?"

"There's something going on here," she said. "We found the ghoul, or what looks like the ghoul, but the man is in a coma."

Dean cursed. "Okay. We're on our way. Be careful."

"We will," Mary promised and then ended the call.

Neil's and Sasha's eyes were on her, Neil's excited and Sasha's only mildly interested though her drug haze. Jeffrey was glaring at Castiel. Mary looked from them to the man on the bed and pressed a hand to her head to stave off the tension-fueled headache that was forming. She had no idea what to do next. Dean was on his way and she needed to make it right for him, she was his mother, and an experienced hunter herself, but she felt helpless. She had no idea where Sam was or what this man had to do with the ghoul that had taken him.

She had no idea what to do apart from wait for Dean to come and hope he was better with what felt like impossible puzzles than her.

Dean was white-knuckling the steering wheel as he powered them toward the Rawlings' house, his jaw clenched and eyes on the road.

The disappointment that they hadn't nailed down Sam's location was angering him. The damn spell was supposed to help them find him, not give them a whole town to search. What the hell use was that? Sam could be anywhere.

Bobby cleared his throat and spoke gruffly over the roar of the engine. "He can't die, Dean."

Dean flexed his fingers and said, "You say that like it's the worst thing that can happen to a person." Dean knew better. Sometimes death was the best outcome for a person.

"No," Bobby said. "I know there's worse that can happen, like losing people you care about, but Sam can't die if you live."

Dean scoffed. "I know you lost a lot of people in your world, but it's not the same. Sam is my brother. Losing him is the worst thing that's ever happened to me, and I have experienced that more than once."

"I know exactly how that feels," Bobby said. "I lost my son."

In spite of the fact he thought he was already too numbed by stressed to feel anything else, Dean startled and snapped a quick glance at Bobby's stony face. "You had a son?"

"Your Bobby didn't?"

"No."

Bobby sighed. "Then he missed out on a lot of joy and grief."

Dean thought that their Bobby had suffered plenty of joy and grief for himself, but he didn't say it. What would be the point? This version of Bobby was already lost in his own memories and pain.

"When the angels made themselves known, we took up arms against them. Armies were formed of volunteers and draftees. Because I was a hunter already, I was given seniority and my own platoon. Daniel was one of mine." He sighed. "I sent him out on a mission and he never returned. The angels got him, and we never found the body. Way I was raised… I never thought I'd make any kind of father to a kid, but Dan was the best thing in my life, and I lost him." He fixed his eyes on Dean. "So, yeah, I know pain and grief, and I know what it feels to lose the person that matters most to you in the world. I'm not your Bobby, but it sounds like you had something real special with him. I'm sure if he was here, he'd know the right things to say."

Dean snorted. "No, probably not. He'd smack me round the head and tell me to work the mission if I want to get him back. But he'd care, too," he amended.

"I care. I know it doesn't seem like it, but I do. But I learned love can make you weak."

Dean shook his head. "It can also make you stronger. You're never stronger or more dangerous than when you're fighting for something you care about."

Bobby nodded slowly. "And you're dangerous right now?"

"Never more. I'm going to find what did this to him and I am going to make it suffer for it. But first…"

"First you need to find him," Bobby finished for him.

"Yeah."

And Dean would find a way. He would fix whatever had happened to Sam like he always did, and he would avenge him on what took him, be it monster or something worse.

"There it is," Bobby said, pointing out of the windshield.

Dean saw it, too, the fancy gates with the posts mounted by lions, and he turned the car and drove up the long track that led to the house. He saw Mary's car parked outside and he pulled up beside it. He was out of the car before Bobby even had his door open and walking to the front door that was opened by an unfamiliar man who looked first surprised and then ecstatic to see him. Dean pushed away the confusion and brushed past him and his greeting and went into the house calling for his mother.

"In here," Mary said.

Dean followed her voice into a library where an older man was lying on a bed surrounded by machinery and tubes, one of them feeding blood into his arm. There was another woman he didn't know slumped in a seat. She looked a little out of it, and Dean saw a yellow bottle of pills on the table beside her.

Mary and Castiel were standing by the bed, and Mary came quickly to him and embraced him before pulling back and touching his face. She didn't speak to give comfort or give reassurances which Dean was grateful for. They would just have been empty words.

"What's happening here?" he asked.

"This is the ghoul I saw," Castiel said, gesturing at the man on the bed. "At least it looks like him."

"And he's still alive?"

The woman in the chair looked up and blinked drowsily. "You can't kill my father," she said conversationally, her words slowed by the pills she'd no doubt taken. "He's not the perfect father, but he doesn't deserve to die."

"He's not the ghoul," Castiel said. "And he's not been fed on. He just looks like the ghoul."

The man that had opened the door for him came in and looked excitedly at Dean. "Are you an angel, too?"

"Ah, you gave them the talk," Bobby said, coming in behind Dean and nodding his satisfaction. "Good. We're not angels; we're hunters. We kill monsters."

The woman in the chair sighed. "Great. I'm either not medicated enough, or I have taken too much. How can monsters be real?"

"It's not too much of a stretch, Sasha," the cheerful man said. "There are many legends."

Dean blocked out their words and looked at the man on the bed. If he wasn't the ghoul there was some other kind of connection. His eyes roved over the equipment and he frowned. He'd seen a set up like this before, but he couldn't place where.

It wasn't the connection to Sam's hospital room that had caught his attention; it was something else. He couldn't force his mind to find it though. He was consumed with what he'd heard. He couldn't clear his thoughts and focus on anything but the fact Sam was missing and the threat that Jo posed if she got free while he was gone.

"Did anyone hear that?" Sasha asked vaguely.

"Hear what?" the smiling man asked.

Mary nodded. "It was something. I'll check it out."

Dean drew a breath through his nose as she slipped from the room and looked at Castiel. "Have you mind-melded with him to see if he knows anything?"

"Yes, but there is nothing of use. He's aware of his surroundings and dwelling on the fact he's here alone."

"He's not alone," the man said. "Sasha and I are here."

"Are we, Neil?" Sasha asked. "Are we really?"

Dean didn't have time for their existential questions or worries. He was trying to make sense of his thoughts.

Suddenly, a cry of shock came from the hall and Mary ran in, her eyes wide and filled with fear.

Bobby caught her shoulders and held her fast. "What's wrong? What happened?" she asked.

"Yellow Eyes! I saw him! I was in the hall and he burst through a door and ran at me."

Dean felt a thrill of fear grip him and he snapped, "Cas, come with me. Mom, Bobby, you stay here. You got your angel blades?"

Mary paled further. "It's in the car."

"Mine too," Dean said. "Cas, stay here. I'll get them out of the cars

"I'll come with you," Mary said.

"No!" Dean said and then softened his tone slightly. "Stay with Cas. No one leave this room."

Before they could argue, he jogged out of the house to the car and popped the trunk. His blade was there, and he grabbed it then went to Mary's trunk to get hers and Bobby's. He rushed back into the house and handed them their blades.

"Come on, Cas," he said gruffly before leading him into the hall and to the door that was cracked open. There was no sign of Azazel or anyone else, and Dean was sure it was an illusion of some sort that Mary had seen, but he was prepared to kill anyone or any thing that came at him.

He pulled open the door and saw it led to a staircase curling upwards. He started up, feeling Castiel close at his back. At the top was another door that Dean kicked open and rushed through, prepared to face whatever was inside with Castiel's blade in his hand.

"Sammy!" he gasped as he saw the scene.

His brother was strung up by the wrists to a hook in the ceiling, and there was a needle in his neck that connected to a tube that led to a bag of blood.

Dean pulled the needle from his neck and Sam's eyes blinked opened and looked around, his breaths coming fast.

"Easy, Sammy," Dean said soothingly "You're okay. I got you. We're getting you out of here."

"Where's Michael?" Sam asked.

"It wasn't really him," Dean said as he reached up for the ropes restraining Sam. "Cas, hold him."

"That's Jo," Castiel said.

Dean stepped back and glared at her. "Give me my brother back! Now!"

"No," she said, her voice wavering. "I'm not going anywhere until this is over."

From below them came a shout of shock and a thump. Dean was torn. He needed to get Jo down and Sam free, but his mother was down there.

"Keep her here, Cas!" he commanded. "Don't let her move!"

Castiel nodded and Dean ran out of the room and pounded down the stairs and into the library. Mary and Bobby were unconscious on the floor, a large lump on Mary's forehead, and the woman Sasha was crumped in her seat, a small wound on her temple. The man, Neil, was standing beside the bed, removing one of the bags of blood.

"You're taking it," Dean spat. "You're a djinn, one of the powered-up versions."

Neil nodded. "I am, but you already knew that, didn't you, Michael?"

"Wrong number," Dean said. "Michael is gone."

"Ah, it all makes sense now, the things I saw in his head." The djinn frowned. "Why did Michael leave you?"

"Doesn't matter," Dean said striding forward. "How are you doing this? Why didn't Castiel see what you are?"

"Because I am a djinn. Illusions are my passion. It was easy to show the angel what he wanted to see. I showed him the ghoul and then tapped into his mind and saw his fear—Michael. It was easy to give him that. Just like it was easy to give your brother what he feared." He shivered with what looked like excitement. "He is terrified of Michael."

"You're not as good as you thought," Dean said, taking another step forward. "I know what he's scared of, and it's not Michael."

Sam's greatest fear was Lucifer. It had been for years. They didn't talk about it. but Dean knew his brother. Michael was nothing to Sam compared to the monster that had tortured him in the Cage.

"You're wrong. They are both scared of Michael; him and the angel within. She fears what he will do to her. Your brother fears what he will do to you, taking you away."

Dean came to an automatic halt as he processed what he was hearing. For Sam to be more scared of Michael than Lucifer meant he really was terrified.

"Where has Michael gone?" the djinn asked.

"No idea," Dean said, taking another step forward into the djinn's space and raising the blade.

"That won't kill me. I am filled with archangel grace."

Dean smirked. "Maybe that won't kill you, but this will." He swung the blade through the air, its razor-sharp edge slicing through the djinn's neck and sending its head falling onto the chest of the man on the bed.

Dean stepped back, panting, and then bent to his mother and checked her pulse. It was strong and steady, as was Bobby's. They were just knocked out and would wake with headaches if Castiel didn't fix them up first.

He left them lying where they were and went back up the attic where Jo hung stony-faced and Castiel stood beside her with his arms crossed over his chest.

"It's dead," Dean said. "That Neil was one of Michael's djinns. So you can go."

He fixed his eyes on Jo who nodded and closed her eyes. When they opened, it was Sam's awareness and his pain that Dean saw.

He licked his lips and asked, "Where did Michael go?"

"It wasn't him, Sammy," Dean said reaching up with the blade and cutting the ropes that held him. Sam slumped forward and Castiel held him steady.

"No," Sam said. "He was there. He crucified me."

"It was a djinn," Dean said.

"But he was talking," Sam said. "He…" His eyes widened. "He called me Jo. He—" His eyes became distant and then he blinked quickly and looked at Dean. "What happened?" he asked.

"What do you remember?" Castiel asked cautiously, his eyes strained.

Sam considered for a moment. "I remember the dog's grave. We were going to dig it up."

Dean forced a laugh as relief swept through him. Jo had wiped him again. He hated that she was violating his mind, but he was damn glad that she had. Sam had been seconds away from putting the pieces together.

"Sure, you remember the dog," he said with a smile. "We didn't dig it up, so you can relax. You were snagged by a djinn before we had a chance."

Sam frowned. "I don't remember."

"Let's be grateful," Castiel said, and Dean heard the same relief he felt in Castiel's voice.

"Cas, Mom and Bobby were knocked out," Dean said. "Can you fix them up? And Sasha. We've got to get the body out, but can you help her, maybe wipe us all from her head, too?"

Of course," Castiel said, making for the door that led to the stairs.

Dean gripped Sam's shoulder and said, "You okay to come down, or do you need a little longer to get your feet under you?"

"No," Sam said distractedly, rubbing his red wrists. "I'm okay. I want to get out of here. Only… Dean, why don't I remember? Djinn's don't wipe memories; they make dreams."

Dean held back a wince. "Honestly, Sammy, I don't know. Maybe it took a swing at your head. We'll get Cas to check it out."

"Or I lost time again," Sam said. "A lot of time."

"Maybe," Dean said regretfully. "But you're good now. Come on. Let's get out of here."

Sam followed him down the stairs, and Dean was glad that for a moment he didn't need to school his face into the calm mask he was forced to present.

Sam was questioning things and he'd seen something of Jo's nightmare. Sam wasn't scared of Michael crucifying him; he was scared of him taking Dean. She'd wiped it, but how long could that really last. How long could any of it last?

It felt to him that things were starting to unravel.

So… Sam is safe, but he saw things he's going to question. Dean is right, things are unraveling.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx