Thank you MaggieMay17 for beta'ing, Ncsupnatfan and VegasGranny for pre-reading. Thank you all for reading.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sam scrambled to his feet the moment he made impact. He was in the deep hole created by his landing, covered with dirt, sawdust, and tree roots. He climbed out, and his eyes roved the area. He was surrounded by a forest of trees, and the ambient sounds he heard were that of the deepest places, without cars or people within his range to hear.

He attempted to spread his wings, though he knew it would be useless, and groaned in frustration when they stayed curled at his back.

"Billie!" he shouted. "I need you. I'm… I don't know where I am, but Michael has Dean, and I've been banished. I can't fly."

There was no answering voice, no other presence in the forest around him, and he cursed. Death was obviously sitting this one out.

He started walking automatically, having no idea which direction he was going in but needing to be in motion.

"Castiel," he called. "Can you hear me? Are you with Dean still?"

"Sam! Where are you? Michael has Dean and Nick. Jack and I were banished."

"So was I," Sam said, and he heard a curse in response. "Look around you," he said. "What can you see?"

There was silence for a moment, and then Castiel said, "There is a sign. It says Ranger Station, and there's an arrow. What does that mean?"

"Not much that will help," Sam said. "You're in a National Park, but that could be anywhere. Head for the ranger station, follow the arrows and see if you can find a map. Better than that, an actual ranger. You and Jack are going to have to get yourselves out. As soon as I can fly, I've got to go to Dean."

His heart lurched as he said it. Michael had Dean now, and there was no way of knowing what he was doing to him. Michael would surely want Dean to give consent to him, to have the best possible vessel he could have in order to carry out his plans. The ways he could go about getting that 'yes' were what scared Sam. Dean could be hurt.

Or Nick, Gabriel's voice whispered. Odds are that he's the one hurting right now, Sam.

That was more true. If Michael had them together, he would know—or soon discover—that the best way to hurt Dean was to hurt his brother.

That would have once meant Sam.

That was the way it worked for them. When the Brits had them, they'd hurt Dean to try to break Sam. It had almost worked. He could handle pain, he'd had experience of it in the Cage, but he couldn't bear to see his brother suffering.

Dean would feel the same way about Nick. How much could they bear before Dean gave in? Nick had been in the Cage in this world, at least he thought he had, so he had to have good resistance to torture, but he wasn't Sam. There was no way of knowing how he would react to what Michael would do. Sam could be strong, but he didn't know if Nick could.

"What do you have on you?" Sam asked. "What weapons? Do you have a phone?"

He didn't know what good a phone would do to them, but it was an automatic response to check resources.

"We have angel bombs, and I have my blade. We've been carrying the bombs ever since you gave them to us in case of a situation like this, but… We didn't have a chance, Sam. He banished us straight away."

"But Dean and Nick have them, too," Sam said, feeling some relief. "They might be able to use them."

"Do you think they'll have a chance?"

Probably not, Gabriel intoned.

"I hope so," Sam said. "That's our best bet right now. Keep listening for Dean or Nick; they might pray. Tell Jack to do the same."

What about Claire? Gabriel asked. You seemed pretty invested, and you left her hanging there.

Sam cursed both vocally and over angel radio. He'd forgotten about Claire. He still had the bottle of blood in his pocket, but it was no use to him here. And Claire could break free any moment. Gordon had gotten free in his revenge-driven madness after Dixon had turned him. If Claire drank a single drop of blood, it was all over for her. There could be no cure.

"What's wrong?" Castiel asked.

Sam shook his head to clear it. "Claire," he said. "She was changing. I've got the blood for the cure, but I can't get it to her. Do you have a phone?"

"Yes. Who shall I call?"

"Jody," Sam said. "Tell her what's happened and that she needs the ingredients for the cure. Make sure she understands she has to keep Claire from getting free. She's restrained now, but she's strong, and if someone stumbles across her…"

Dean had been strong enough to be around Lisa and Ben in the process of his change without feeding, he'd gone to them to say goodbye, but Claire might not be as strong. She didn't have Dean's strength of will, honed from years of fighting, pain, and sacrifice.

"I'll call her," Castiel said.

Sam felt the connection with Castiel break, and he stopped and waited for him to come back, his other senses reaching out to his surroundings to search for signs of civilization that would get him somewhere he could help. If he just had a car… A motorbike would do—anything to speed his progress to Dean.

Something tickled at the back of his mind, a pull, and then he heard a murmuring voice. With a gasp, he started running towards it, not sure if he was following a hiker, ranger, or just some hermit that was living in whatever forest he'd landed in.

As he drew closer, he heard it clearer and realized it was Jack and Castiel talking about Claire. Was it possible that the banishing had brought them close enough to Sam for him to reach them?

"Castiel, start shouting," he commanded, reconnecting with him on angel radio.

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

"Sam!" the bellow came through angel radio and felt like a hammer blow to the temple.

"Aloud, Cas," he said angrily. "I think you're close."

Castiel's voice reached him through the trees. "Sam! Can you hear me?"

"Yes!" Sam shouted, both on angel radio and aloud as he sprinted toward the sound. "Stop and wait for me. I think I'm close."

His feet pelted the dirt and twig strewn ground, and Castiel's voice grew louder. It seemed to take an age, and he was frustrated that archangel status didn't seem to come with super-speed as well as flight, and then he saw a sign directing him towards a ranger station and could tell he was close.

"Castiel! Jack!"

"Here!" Castiel's excited shout came in return.

Sam pushed himself towards the sound, skidding to a stop as he saw a flash of a different shade of brown to the tree trunks and dirt surrounding him. It was Castiel's coat.

"Here!" he shouted

Castiel and Jack sprinted towards him, and before Sam could think or stop himself, he grabbed Castiel's shoulders and pulled him into a hug. He felt Castiel freeze, and his arms remained hanging at his sides.

He realized his mistake a moment too late—neither Lucifer nor Sam had reason for personal contact with the angel—and released Castiel and pushed him back.

"Give me the phone," he ordered, throwing the bottle of blood to Jack, who caught it. "Don't lose that," he added.

Jack examined the bottle and tucked it into the pocket of his jacket then watched Sam with narrowed eyes as Sam dialed Jody's number from memory and brought it to his ear.

"Castiel?" she said, confusion and concern in her voice. "What's going on?"

"It's Sam. Look, we've got trouble. Claire has…"

"Who the hell is Sam?" Jody asked.

Sam glared at Castiel. "You didn't tell any of them?"

Castiel looked puzzled and then gasped. "We didn't think…"

"Awesome." Sam returned his attention to the call. "I'm Lucifer's vessel. Long story short, Lucifer is gone, and I'm in control of the archangel now."

"How the hell did that happen?"

"It doesn't matter," Sam said tersely. "You need to get to The Ministry Chapel on the north edge of Sioux Falls. Claire is there. She's turning into a vampire. She was attacked, and they fed her blood."

"Oh god…" Jody whispered. "Claire!"

"Focus," Sam snapped. "You need to help her. I've got the blood you'll need for a cure, but I can't get it to you yet. I can't fly right now, and I've got a bigger problem to deal with once I can."

He considered telling her about Dean and then dismissed the idea. Jody was already in panic mode, knowing about Claire. If she knew about Dean, too, she was going to be split on what to do, even though she was helpless against Michael.

"Okay," Jody said. "I'll go there now."

"Don't go inside," Sam warned. "She's restrained, but she's going to be strong, and I don't know how much resistance she'll have to the need to feed. If she has even one drop of blood…"

"I know!" Jody snapped. "But Alex was okay. She controlled herself."

"Do you want to risk it on faith?" Sam asked. "Be smart. Don't tell her you're there even. Your job is to keep any human from going near her. She cannot feed."

"How do I know this isn't a trap?" she asked, her hunter's mindset finally coming into focus.

Sam handed the phone to Castiel and said, "Tell her who I am."

Castiel lifted the phone to his ear and said, "Jody, you can trust him. He's telling the truth, and we're all trusting him right now."

"Okay, I'm going. Get that blood to me as fast as you can."

"We will," Castiel promised.

The call cut off, and Sam took the phone from Castiel and tucked it in his pocket. He had no idea when he might need it, and now Castiel and Jack were with him, they wouldn't.

"Empty your pockets," Sam said. "Give me everything you've got."

Castiel pulled two angel bomb canisters from his coat's pockets, and Jack added one of his own from his jacket.

"The cuffs?" Sam asked.

"We only have two sets, and Dean and Nick have them," Castiel explained.

"Okay. I can work with that."

If the plan he was building came into fruition, Dean and Nick would be able to cuff Michael while he was unconscious and use whatever else they had with them, wherever they were, to lock him down. If Sam could manage it, he'd stay out of range of the smoke. If not, he would hope he woke up faster than Michael.

"What are you going to do?" Castiel asked.

"As soon as I can fly, I'm going to find them and kill Michael," Sam stated.

"Are you strong enough?" Castiel asked.

Sam looked at him with resolve. "I'm not sure. I know one thing, though: Michael isn't going to be the one to kill me. That's the job of someone I love."

Castiel looked puzzled. "Who do you love?"

Sam bit down on his tongue. He was making too many mistakes to maintain the cover of being Lucifer's vessel. It was the stress of the moment, the familiarity of fighting the big fight to protect people he loved, and his emotions were running too high for him to be cautious.

"It doesn't matter," he said, gripping the angel bombs tight in his hands. "What matters is that we're ready the moment my wings come back online. You've got your own job to do, too."

"What do we need to do?" Jack asked.

Sam considered him for a moment and then gasped as a solution to one of their problems came into focus. "Can you still fly, Jack?"

"Yes. I can't now because I was banished, but before that, I could."

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. "Then you get that blood to The Ministry Chapel in Sioux Falls so Jody can cure Claire."

"What else?" Jack asked.

"That's not enough?" Sam snapped and then sighed and addressed them both with intensity in his words. "When Jody has the blood, come back to the bunker. Hopefully, that's where Michael has them; it's the logical choice."

"Hopefully? Logical choice? Can't you sense where he is?" Castiel looked at Sam in confusion. Sam shook his head.

"Should I be able to? Isn't he warded?"

"Dean and Nick are hidden from us but you should be able to find Michael."

"Can you?"

"I could sense him if he was nearby but you should be able to feel him even if he were on the moon," Castiel replied.

"How?" Sam asked.

"You can feel Michael's true form, the energy signal given off by his grace. I can see you even when my eyes are closed."

Sam promptly closed his eyes. Now he searched for it there was something. It was huge but it wasn't where Castiel was standing. He turned and opened his eyes in wonder, looking now at Jack. He closed his eyes again. How hadn't he noticed that before? If he tried to find words they would be bright or hot but really they didn't even skim the surface of what he was sensing. He turned back to Castiel and this time he could see something, though it was smaller and less intense compared to Jack, like a candle in daylight. Castiel's grace gave Sam the impression of… battle. He turned away, eyes still closed, and scanned further afield. There was something crackly, only a handful of miles away. He opened his eyes and pointed but Castiel shook his head.

"There is an electricity generating facility in that direction," he said. Sam closed his eyes and searched again.

There. Distant, big as Jack though it felt very different, this energy was sharp like knives, bitter like acid, and it was in Lebanon, Kansas.

"I guessed right," Sam said to Castiel. "Michael is at the bunker, that's where to come after you see Michael is out of action—and only if, or you'll be coming in to die—you come and do what you can for Nick. He's probably going to need healing. I'm going to be busy with Michael."

He hoped he would be at least. He didn't feel strong enough for this fight, but he had no choice but to face it now.

It was time.

Michael drew another cut down Nick's chest, slicing from his collarbone, skirting his left nipple, and cutting down his stomach to the waistband of his jeans.

Nick cried out with pain, and Dean groaned in response.

Dean had suffered a lot in his life—he'd had thirty years of torture in Hell, and he'd seen Nick hurting before—but he'd never been forced to watch it helplessly, not like this.

Michael was a master of the art of pain. He knew the most sensitive places, and he used them all. Each of Nick's fingers had been broken, and Michael sometimes tugged on them just to hear Nick's cries of pain, just as he would press the hilt of his blade down directly over the break in Nick's wrist. Nick had moved past the point of being able to hide his pain. It was vocalized every time now, but it was always followed by two words. "Don't, Dean."

Dean wanted to keep resisting, he needed to, but it was getting harder with every minute of his brother's agony.

He knew if Nick wasn't so strong, his defiant eyes locked on Michael every time he told Dean to resist, he would have given in a long time ago.

Just as it had once before, when he'd been so desperate and disillusioned to go to Michael and offer consent, Nick's faith in him kept him from giving in. If Nick could handle this agony, the slices littering his skin, the blood slicking him, the broken bones and dislocated shoulders, Dean could bear watching.

He had the easiest part of this situation. The only person that had it easier than him was Mary as she didn't know anything about what was happening. She'd gone to Florida with Bobby and Rowena. Dean was fervently grateful that she wasn't there; he didn't want her in danger. He was hanging onto the hope that he was going to get a chance to have a conversation with her in which he'd be able to lie about what had really happened, to cushion the shock for her.

"What do you say, Dean?" Michael asked, tapping the tip of his blade on the bridge of Nick's nose. "Are you going to say yes now, or does he need to lose an eye to make you see I'm going to win either way?"

"Don't, Dean," Nick grunted.

"No," Dean said, the words causing a weight to settle over his heart and press down so hard that it seemed impossible that it could still beat.

Michael sighed. "I thought you might say that." He brought the blade close to Nick's right eye and began to edge it forward.

"Sam!" Dean bellowed. "We need you! Please!"

He had been praying for as long as Michael had been hurting Nick, pleas for help and offers of anything given in return, but Sam hadn't come still. It had to have been long enough for Sam to be able to fly again. Michael had told him it was no use; Sam had been banished, just like Castiel and Jack, but that only lasted a matter of hours, and Dean was sure they'd been tied to these chairs for days.

Michael moved the blade and tapped it against Nick's shoulder as he fixed his eyes on Dean. "How many times do you need to hear it before you believe he can't come? He can't even hear you. This place is warded against everything that might help you. Sam can't fly in, he can't hear your prayers, and if he did manage to get here, he wouldn't be able to get past my monsters. There are too many of them for him to fight his way through. They might not be able to kill him—in fact, I don't want them to—but they can stop him."

"He's going to kill you," Dean threatened.

"He thinks he is," Michael said. "But I know better. He is only one potential end for me, one of many, and I will make sure he's never able to do it. Now, where were we?"

He brought the blade to Nick's eye again and then paused as a slamming sound reached them from the next room.

Dean's heart skipped. Something had collided with the heavy door of the bunker, which meant help was coming.

Perhaps his sense of time had been off—understandable given what was happening while he was waiting; perhaps it had taken time for them to be traced.

Whichever it was, Sam was coming.

Dean locked eyes on his brother and said, "Hear that, Nicky? Sam's coming. He's going to save us."

Nick nodded stiffly, but Dean could tell he wasn't convinced.

"I'm sure he'll try," Michael said, fixing his eyes on Dean. "He really does love you."

Nick turned confused eyes on Dean, his gaze pleading for an explanation, but Dean had none to give. Nothing Michael had said made sense; there was no love between him and Sam, just a shared need that engendered trust.

If Dean was wrong to trust Sam, if Michael was right and Sam wouldn't be able to kill him…

It wasn't possible that Sam could love Dean, and Dean would kill Sam in a heartbeat if it meant protecting Nick.

So… That was pretty fun. Writing Nick in Sam's place in situations like this was a challenge at first, but it grew easier over time as Nick's character settled in my mind. He became Dean's brother. You'll see the importance of that in the sequel.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx