Author's note: I have been getting some nice comments and reviews (FF) on this story lately, so I pushed out two chapters this week. One was earlier and we saw Sam enter the picture. Let's see how things develop from here.

Michael had no idea how he managed to sense something was off, considering his grace was contained and hidden within his vessel, maybe it was the instincts of the previous host, maybe 'Mike' had placed some sort of alarm-charms all over the woods and connected himself with them. Michael was worried to leave Dean behind, especially since his leg took a slight turn for the worse, but he had no choice, he had to face the danger head-on.

He rounded the corner of his cabin, his footsteps screeching in the snow, and came face to face with their guest. He paused, his gun raised and trained at the familiar looking figure.

"Where is my brother, what did you do to him?" Sam shouted. "His car is back in town and I know he came here. Tell me, or so help me, I will put a bullet in you right now."

There was a moment that could seem like this whole thing was a stand off, but what it was, was actually Michael realizing this was Sam, Dean's brother and that the whole thing they had going on was... Over. So forgive him if he took a moment to come to terms with that.

Michael turned his gun away from Sam and held it in a non-threatening way, slowly crouching down. He placed the gun on the ground and took a few steps back, clearly indicating he surrendered. Sam frowned at him, and without taking his eyes of the man, picked up the gun, switched the safety on and tucked it behind his back. He did not want to shoot himself in the ass.

"Where is he?!" Sam demanded and even held at gunpoint, Michael couldn't bring himself to speak up. He would never know if it was some effect of him depowering his grace or a belated psychological issue of his vessel, all he knew was that he was tongue-tied, and not really wanting to talk anyway. So Michael just nudged his head towards the house and Sam made him turn around, his gun at the back of the man's head and the other hand on his shoulder as he forced him to lead the way.

The look on Dean's face before he saw it was actually his brother there, was a murderous one, and Heaven help him, for a moment there Michael wished it was that easy, just make Sam disappear and he could go back to being with Dean.

"Jesus, fuck, Sam! I nearly shot you!" Dean yelled, and Michael could feel Sam's sigh of relief on the back of his neck. It was not pleasant.

"What happened?" Sam asked, his gun still at the back of Michael's head. Considering his grace was locked up, there was a pretty good chance he would die if Sam squeezed the trigger and there was really no way of telling if he could come back from that. So, no, it was not a pleasant feeling.

"Would you take the damn gun off Mike's head?" Dean told his brother, leveling him with a glare that suggested that, even if he phrased it as a question, it was a command.

"Oh, yeah, sorry." Sam said and gave Mike a sheepish smile before turning to his brother again, asking the same "What happened?"

"Long story sort, the were almost got me, but Mike here saved me, killed the were too. I've been stuck like this ever since." Dean said and pointed to his leg.

"Why didn't you call?"

"With what Sam? Smoke signals? If you haven't noticed, there is no reception here and I... I didn't want... I couldn't send Mike out to try and reach the town. Have you seen the weather?!" Dean said and there was a very subtle blush on his cheeks, one Michael thought Sam hadn't noticed.

"Don't you have a sat phone?" Sam asked Michael and the angel just shook his head. He looked at Dean and pointed towards the kitchen.

"Yeah, sure." Dean replied and Sam frowned at him, unaccustomed to his and Michael's silent conversations. But Michael knew Dean understood that he was excusing himself to go make some tea and also to give them some space, even though he could still hear them.

"What's going on, Dean?"

"I have a freaking broken leg, Sam. What do you think is going on?"

"But, this guy..."

"Look around. Go on. Take a look, what do you see?"

Sam was silent for a a few moments before he gave out a sort of a hum of understanding. "He's a hunter. But why didn't he say anything?"

"I dunno, Sam, maybe because he can't talk?"

"Oh."

"Yeah. And he's been... He's been taking care of me." Dean said in a tone that sounded off. As if he was reprimanding Sam, and Michael had no idea why. But a few minutes later, Sam came out into the kitchen and after he spoke, Michael understood why Dean said it the way he did.

"Hey, um... Mike. I'm Sam, Dean's, um... Brother." He said and seemed to want to offer his hand, but since Michael had his hands full of setting up the tea bags, sugar and creme, he just gave him a sheepish smile and brushed his hands over his jeans. "Um... Listen, man, I am sorry for... You know, all that back there. I was just... Worried about Dean." Michael nodded and Sam continued. "And I wanted to say... Thanks. For... Saving him and everything." Michael nodded again, this time offering a small, tight smile.

Sam nodded back, then took it upon himself to carry the tea tray. As he entered the room, Sam set on the bed, and Michael paused only for a second, glancing at him, then at the recliner chair before going to sit on it.

"So, what do we do now?" Sam asked raising his brow at Dean. There was a silent communication between them as well, something Michael interpreted as if they had more important things to handle and this thing with Dean's broken leg was a mayor setback. "If we could get you to the bunker, Cas could heal you." He added and neither noticed how Michael winced at the mention of the angel.

"Maybe you should go get him?" Dean offered, and Michael barely contained his smile. If Sam went, he would get to spend a few more days with Dean alone.

"No, that would take too long. If we could just get you to the town, I could drive us to the bunker." Sam said, deep in thought if how they could handle this. Dean was about to protest, but Michael didn't know if it was about Sam staying with them or about Sam driving his car. "Do you think I could get search and rescue up here?" Sam cut Dean off. "Naw, they wouldn't come unless you're critical." Sam mused.

Dean kept glancing at Michael, but the angel tried hard to remain neutral. He didn't know if Dean wanted Sam to know what was happening between them, and with Sam here, they wouldn't have a chance to talk. Or for Dean to talk, anyway.

"You think the two of us could carry him?" Sam suddenly asked, looking back at Michael, startling him. Dean was frowning, but didn't say anything and it was clear it was up to Michael. So he gulped, then nodded, suddenly feeling sad. "Great, then it is settled." Sam said. Michael drew his attention pointing at his wrist and making a full circle with his finger.

"What, time? What about it?" Sam asked.

"He is saying it is too late to leave now, we would have to do it in the morning." Dean translated, his eyes still firmly staying at the angel not wanting to look away.

Dean fell into a bad mood after that, and Michael didn't know what to do about it. Normally, he might try to comfort him, but didn't know how he should act in front of Sam. The two of them spent a while in the kitchen, preparing dinner, Sam asking a bunch of little irrelevant questions and Michael trying to answer them as best as he could. When they walked back into the bedroom with dinner, Sam once again sat on the bed, while Michael had to take the chair. There was still a blanket on it, one he used when he first saved Dean and he draped himself with it, feeling cold.

Dean said nothing, but kept looking at him with a dark expression, one Michael could not read.

When the bed time finally arrived, Sam went to the bathroom and Michael hoped Dean would say something, tell him what would happen to them now, but Dean remained silent, for the first time that day not looking at the angel. It made Michael feel sad and discarded. It was typical, wasn't it? Everyone used him for their own needs then left him behind.

He and Sam switched places and Michael quickly finished up, thinking things through. Why would he even go there, into the bedroom? There wasn't enough room for him there anymore. He would sleep on the chairs in the kitchen. He bowed his head and sighed, remembering he had to go and find a blanket at least, he couldn't rely on his grace to keep him warm. When he came out, Sam and Dean were arguing and he was too curious not to try and hear what it was about. Besides, he needed that blanket.

"What do you mean I can't sleep in the bed? It is big enough for both of us, and we shared before. Don't tell me you're suddenly bed-shy." Sam said towering over Dean.

"You are taking the chair Sam. You can do it for one night. Besides, you slept on worse." Dean insisted.

"But if I take the recliner, where will Mike sleep?" Sam asked, looking irritated.

"The same place he was sleeping the last few nights. Right here, with me."