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

Chapter Twenty-Four

Dean's fingers were tight around the steering wheel as he powered towards Nebraska, his heart hammering. He was scared of what was happening to Claire while they were stuck in the car, limited by the time it took to cross the miles. He didn't think he'd ever missed Castiel's wings more.

"Anything new from Claire, Cas?" Nick asked.

"No. And I've not heard from Sam since he told us to go to Nebraska either," Castiel said. "He must be busy helping her."

"You hope," Nick muttered.

"Not helping, Nick," Dean said disapprovingly as he saw Castiel's face fall in the rearview mirror. "Sam is the most powerful good guy out there right now, and he's going to help her. Claire is safer with him helping than she would be with anyone else, including us."

Nick grunted in response.

Dean understood his problem with Sam—no matter how much Sam proved he was the good guy, he wore the face of torture to Nick—but he wished Nick would ease up now. They were all stressed out, but they weren't all making Castiel feel like shit for it.

Dean cared about Claire, she was like family, but she actually was family to Castiel. After she'd shown up again as an angry teen in a home for kids, Castiel had assumed the role he'd denied Jimmy Novak when he'd taken him as a vessel: the role of a father.

Castiel was helpless until they could reach her, and that had to be burning him more than any of them now as he was always the protector before. Like the rest of them, he had to rely on Sam to save her.

"I could try to go to her," Jack offered for the third time.

Dean shook his head. "I get that you want to help, kid, but we have no idea if Michael is still tracking you. If he finds you without Sam there to protect you…" The horrifying idea filled his mind, and he gripped the steering wheel tighter. "We only brought you out of the bunker because you're safer with all of us here than alone. The last time you faced him, you would have died if not for Sam."

"But we've got the angel bombs and cuffs," Jack said. "I can drop one and get him locked down."

Dean looked over his shoulder for a moment, seeing Jack's eager expression, and he felt like an asshole. The kid wanted to help, but Dean was worried he would get himself killed if he tried. He had more faith in Claire against whatever she was facing than in Jack without his powers against Michael.

And the smallest, most selfish part of him knew which of them he was willing to risk. Claire was like family; Jack was a son.

"We don't know if the angel bombs will work on you, too," Nick said, and Dean saw the same guilt in Nick's eyes that he was sure was in his own. "And the cuffs won't hold long. We've got to be smart."

Suddenly, something ran across the road, a female shape, and Dean slammed on the brakes. His reactions were fast, but the momentum of their speed carried them forward, and the woman hit the hood and then bounced off as they came to a stop.

In an instant, Dean was out of the car, running towards the woman and shouting for Castiel to hurry up and heal her. He felt like an asshole for thinking it, but they needed this woman out of the way—preferably living—so they could get on their way.

But the woman was getting to her feet, her long and pointed teeth revealing her nature as a vetala. Her shirt fell open to reveal bloody marks on her chest that formed a shape that Dean recognized. He couldn't do more than turn to the side to see Castiel skidding to a stop, his palm pressed to his ear, and his expression stressed, before a voice spoke, and Dean's gaze snapped forward again.

"Hello, Dean, Jack."

Michael stood beside the woman, his palm dripping blood. As Dean cried out inarticulately, Michael slapped his hand down on the symbol on the woman's chest, and a blast of light rushed over them.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, but he was gone, dragged away by the force of the banishing sigil.

"Jack?" Nick said, forming it as a question.

Dean looked around and realized Jack was gone, too. Dean knew that he'd not been affected by a banishing sigil when he was at full power, but it had obviously worked now that he was only running at half power.

"Dean…" Michael said, his voice a croon. "You have something I want."

"Don't, Dean," Nick growled.

Dean didn't need Nick's words to know what he had to do. "I'm not giving it up for you," he said. "You're not getting your hands on me. You are not getting in!"

"No?" Michael asked. "Then we have a problem, don't we? I have planned for this complication, though."

He touched the vetala's arm, and Dean felt the rush in his stomach that he'd not felt since Castiel had wings, the rush of flight. They came to a stop in the library of the bunker.

Nick reached into his pocket, and Dean guessed he was reaching for the angel bomb he had, but before he could take it out, Michael was on him. He yanked Nick's wrist, breaking it, and making Dean and Nick cry out in unison; Nick in pain and Dean in anger. Michael pushed Nick to the floor and then picked up the canister he'd dropped.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Give it to me and find out," Dean growled.

Michael smirked. "I don't think so, Dean. Whatever you've cooked up will not slow me down for long, but I don't want the inconvenience. Now, before I get started with you, I want to talk to Nick."

Dean stepped in front of Nick protectively, but Michael merely smiled and touched two fingers to his forehead. Dean dropped like a stone, asleep before he hit the floor, leaving his brother undefended.

Michael smiled down at Nick as he gripped his arm just above his broken wrist and hauled him to his feet.

Nick couldn't hide the sound of his pain, but he followed it with a slew of creative curses that he slung at Michael like bullets.

He knew he was helpless, but he wasn't going to give in easily. If Michael planned to use him to break Dean down and get the yes he needed, Nick was going to stop him. He could deal with pain, he had nearly two centuries of experience to draw upon, and he wasn't going to break. Whatever happened, whatever he felt, he would keep telling Dean to say no.

It was going to be hell for them both, Nick suffering it and Dean watching, but they were strong.

"Are you done?" Michael asked with a quirked brow. "I would like to begin."

Nick glared at him. "You won't break me. I've been in the Cage."

Michael laughed hard, the movement making him bend over at the waist and his breath rasp. Nick started to walk around him, wanting to reach the angel bomb, but the vetala that had been watching Michael with an expression of awe snared his legs with a foot and swept his feet out from under him. Nick sprawled on the ground, bumping the edges of the broken bone together and making pain rear.

"How does that feel?" Michael asked.

"Screw you. You can say what you want, do what you want, but you're not getting my help. Dean is never going to give in to you, no matter what you do. We're going to watch you die painfully. Sam is going to kill you."

Even saying the words seemed wrong to him, relying on Sam for this, but he was their only hope.

Nick swallowed down the acid in his throat as he said, "Sam, we're in the bunker, Michael is here," sending the words up as a prayer.

"You really think Sam will save you?" Michael asked. "He can't get in. My creations are standing guard outside the door and even now…" He looked up and tilted his head to the side. "Even now, they have finished the warding that will stop him from flying in."

Nick continued his prayer desperately, knowing it was their one chance, even though it galled him when he'd vowed his first prayer to Sam would also be the last Sam heard before he was back in the Cage. "Sam, there are monsters outside, and warding so you can't fly in."

"That's it," Michael said. "Tell him all you want him to know, just don't expect a reply for... Well, it's going to be hours before his wings are back in action. I had one of my assistants banish him before he could get to you."

Nick's eyes widened. If Sam had been banished, he was going to be gone for hours. There was no rescue coming. They were alone.

"Now, are you ready for the fun to start?" Michael asked, jerking his head at the vetala. "Tie him to the chair. I want him nice and comfy for this. I'll do the vessel. He's going to need a good position to watch from."

Michael grabbed a chair and dragged it into the middle of the room at the same moment the vetala hauled Nick up and shoved him into a chair. He couldn't do more than struggle to breathe, his head swimming as the change in position brought fresh pain, before ropes were wrapped around his chest and arms. He watched, helpless, as Michael dropped Dean into a chair and did the same.

With them both bound, Michael drew his archangel blade and said, "Get his shirt open. I want a canvas," to the vetala, and then he touched Dean's temple.

Dean woke with a jolt, his eyes moving between Nick and Michael with a look of fury. "Touch him, and I swear I'll…" he started, but Michael held up a finger, and Dean's teeth snapped together.

"I will do exactly what I want, and you will watch," he said. "You have the option of stopping it at any time, of course. All it will take is a simple yes."

"No, Dean," Nick said fervently. "You know I can take it. Don't give in."

Dean stared at him, the steeliness in his eyes devalued somewhat by the tears at the corners, and said. "I know, Nicky. We're getting through this. It's going to be okay."

Nick nodded and fixed his stare on Michael's face as he approached with the blade extended. He poured as much hatred as he could into his gaze, wishing it could burn the archangel, and Michael smiled.

The vetala moved forwards toward Dean, her eyes hungry, and Michael held up a hand to stop her. "Can you control yourself?" he asked.

The vetala nodded. "Yes, sir."

Michael considered her a moment and then gestured her closer. When she reached him, staring into his eyes with adoration, Michael touched her cheek. "I don't think I believe you. And I need to be able to concentrate on what I am doing without watching you lusting after what belongs to me."

The vetala seemed to sense the same danger that Nick did for himself, and she stepped backward, but Michael grabbed her hair and pressed his hand to her forehead. Light blazed in her eyes and open mouth, and then her body burned to a husk and crumbled to the floor as ashes.

Michael brushed off his hands and turned his attention back to Nick, "Here we go."

A moment later, the pain began. Within minutes, it had reached agony.

So… Nick and Dean are in all kinds of trouble, and Sam isn't going to be getting back in a hurry. Banishing is a pain in the ass for the characters but such a good plot device for writers.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx