They rode along in the dark. Sam and Dean in the front seat, and Mac and Jack in the back. Everyone else was talking, but Mac was once again quiet. It seemed odd to the Winchesters and Sam kept casting concerned glances over his shoulder. They both figured a guy as talkative as Jack would have an equally chatty partner, especially since the two were obviously close.

But Jack wasn't worried. Not really. Okay … not much.

Mac was naturally kind of a quiet guy.

Well, not always. He could talk Jack's ear off sometimes, but around new people Mac could be reticent, almost shy unless he was actively doing something. Jack told himself that's all this was, not that Mac was still freaking out. After his brief outburst before the other guys got back, Mac had been calm, back to his usual problem-focused, logical demeanor.

Then Jack saw him reach up and massage his forehead again. It wasn't a typical headache gesture, but more the one he'd been making off and on since that parking lot when Sam handed him his phone with the picture of an angel's shadow. The one that said what was in Mac's head didn't really fit into it.

Jack tried to bite his tongue, but completely independent of his wishes he heard the rest of his mouth ignore him. "Mac, bud, you okay?"

Mac just glanced at him ad shrugged. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said quietly. Then he turned very pointedly back toward the window, dropping his hands to his lap and fidgeting instead of rubbing his head.

This went on for several minutes before Mac sighed heavily. Jack was about to push a little harder, maybe even bring up flying back to LA again. He drew in his breath to speak.

"Hullo, Angus."

"Jesus!" Mac exclaimed, jumping as his head snapped toward the middle seat where Castiel materialized without so much as a whisper of sound.

"I am sorry," Castiel said, sounding like he meant it. "I was drawn back here by your distress." The angel looked around the car for a moment, giving Sam and Dean reproving looks in the mirror. "I told you he was not done suffering, as his mind could not assimilate this all at once. One of you should have called me to help Angus."

The moments it took for that little speech was all Mac needed to slow his breathing and get himself to sound perfectly normal. "I thought I asked you not to call me that."

Jack, trying to break the tension (that was part of his role with Mac, after all), said. "Yeah, he doesn't like to be called Angus. No one likes to be named after an item on the menu at Carl Jrs."

Cas shook his head. "He does not like to be called Angus because that is what his mother called him. When people call him Angus, it makes him miss her terribly."

Mac sucked in his breath. "Don't."

He didn't need to say more. The other humans in the car looked everywhere but at Mac.

Castiel looked directly at him. His eyes compassionate and searching. "I am sorry … Mac."

"Thank you," he replied, voice tight.

The angel's eyes narrowed and his expression was almost a frown. "You are angry with me."

"No, I'm n … You know what … Being around someone who can read minds is really irritating," Mac grumped.

"You got that right," Dean chimed in from the front seat.

Sam decided not to pile on just to tease Cas. "Mac, he really is just trying to help. Social conventions are kind of lost on Cas."

"Aw, Mac, see, you guys should get along great," Jack said, still determined to lighten his partner up a bit.

"Screw you," Mac said in return, but it was with a half-smile that made Jack feel better.

"We are nearly at our destination," Cas said, eyes still boring into Mac's, making it clear that he was intent on helping and also that he had officially invited himself along on this venture. "Will you allow me to clear your head again?"

Mac looked back at him for a long moment. "I guess," he finally said with a shrug.

0-0-0

By the time they pulled off onto the gravelly shoulder of the road about ten minutes later, Mac felt reasonably clear headed again. They'd gone well outside town. The Rio Grande was visible in the near distance and when they stepped out of the car to look around at this almost untraveled intersection, they could hear the water flowing, swollen with recent unseasonable rain and snow.

Mac leaned against the hood of the car with his hands in the pockets of his coat. Cas looked at Sam and Dean preparing for the ritual for a moment, glanced at Jack and tipped his chin toward the Winchesters, and when Jack moved off to assist with what they were doing (which appeared to be burying a box in the middle of the road for some reason), Cas leaned against the car, too.

He waited for a moment in silent contemplation of his young human companion. The he spoke softly. "I do not believe you are ready for more newness at the moment, Mac."

Mac's eyes flicked to Cas, then returned to watch the preparations for the ritual. Sam was drawing a symbol on the ground with what looked like powdered chalk. Jack was lighting a variety of candles, and was quietly asking his cousins for direction. Dean was putting some things into a bowl in the middle of the symbol and then flipping through a large, worn, leather-bound book.

Finally, Mac looked at Cas again. He was still quietly freaking out that this guy was an angel, but there was also something comforting about his presence. He seemed genuinely concerned and like he really wanted to be of some help. It was a feeling that Mac had only ever really found common around Jack, or Bozer until more recently. Riley had joined the ranks of people he didn't think asked after him for selfish reasons. But most other people, their concern always felt at least a little self-serving.

Mac offered a small smile. "I don't believe I have much choice, Cas."

"Because you will not leave your partner to face whatever this is alone."

Mac nodded. "That's how we do things, yeah. Jack is …"

"Family," Cas said with a nod.

"Yeah. Yeah, he is."

"You two are going to be as troublesome as the Winchesters. I can already tell."

Mac laughed softly. "You make that sound like both an insult and a compliment at the same time."

"Yes," Cas agreed. The he cocked his head, listening to what the other men were saying. They were too far away from Mac to hear clearly. Cas put a hand on his shoulder. "They are ready. The ritual is more powerful with energy at all compass points."

Mac nodded. "Okay."

He walked out into the middle of the crossroads, hands still in his pockets.

Jack was making helicopter face. "Doin' okay, bud."

Mac nodded. "Where do you need me?"

Dean tilted his head toward the red candle on the ground. "Take the South, that's fire. Seems like a good element for a bomb expert."

Mac smiled. "That's probably true."

Dean ordered the other guys around too. "Jack you take North, that's Earth. Sam, oh, good, you've got Water in the West. Cas would you ..?"

"Yes, Dean. I will be Air for your spell."

When everyone was in position, Dean stood in the center, facing the sigil drawn on the ground and the bowl of fruits and other items in the middle of it. He spoke in a low, focused voice. Mac only caught a few words. "Et ad congredandum … eos coram me …"

There was a soft sound and then an amused, almost familiar voice. "Hello, boys."

There was a yelp of surprise and Mac backed away from the circle, mouth working like he couldn't quite find words, but his brain was maybe talking a blue streak anyway.

"Mac!" Jack exclaimed in surprise, breaking from his spot in the circle and heading for his partner. "What is it?" He could see his partner staring with wide eyes at the being that just appeared in the middle of the circle, but could not see the creature's face. Jack was worried it was wearing its demon form instead of a human guise.

Mac gasped, steadying himself to answer Jack. "Z … Zito," he finally forced out.

When Jack caught a look at the smirking man in the neat brown pinstriped suit, he felt his own breath draw in sharply. Then he just stood shoulder to shoulder with Mac as the creature's eyes settled on them.

"Well, hello. He stepped around Dean and toward Mac and Jack. "To what do I own the pleasure of being summoned into the middle of nowhere by the Winchesters and their … Is 'fresh meat' offensive to you boys?" He directed the question at Mac and Jack.

Dean got between them again and Sam stepped next to his brother. "Crowley," Dean growled. "We need to talk to you."

"In a minute. You're the least interesting person at this crossroad right now, Squirrel. I like the one that thinks I want to kill him."

Sam tried next, stepping between Crowley and the others, with a hard glare. "Your people have already hassled Mac enough. That's why we called you."

Crowley made a disinterested little frown. "I don't have any people in this area, Moose. No one from Hell anywhere on the map here at the moment. Until you called me, that is."

Even the voice was the same. The expressions. The amused eyes that held nothing but the promise of pain for his own entertainment. And he was clearly laughing at them behind his few words. Suddenly that kind of pissed Mac off.

"Who are you?" he demanded, stepping away from Jack and a little closer to the newcomer.

"I'm the King of Hell." His smirk became a little more smug. "I heard the boys call you Mac. I don't think that suits you. Pretty boy like you ... I think I'll call you … Hollywood," he said with an oily almost intimacy.

Mac took a step back. Picking long ago nicknames out of his head was not okay. "My name is Angus MacGyver. I like to be called Mac. But only my closest friends, people I would have happily died for, have ever called me Hollywood. So, you don't get to."

There was an icy confidence that Jack was familiar with Mac using when they encountered serious bad guys. It was his tone that told Jack he was totally in the zone and nothing, not a bullet wound, a bomb, or fifty more bad guys showing up was going to shake his focus. Jack noticed Dean smile approvingly at his partner and Sam glance at Crowley with a satisfied expression.

"Oh, Hollywood," Crowley said, mirroring Mac's cool tone. He disappeared and then materialized almost chest to chest with Mac. "I'll call you whatever I like. And I already know everything you fear. This face has hurt you … And more, it's hurt someone you love. Pain is my bread and butter, Hollywood. Trust me, you don't want my attention, dear boy."

The way he said 'dear boy' was uncomfortably like the way Murdoc often said it and while it didn't make Mac drop back, it did make Jack take a step forward. He was scared shitless to be encountering a demon, say nothing about the supposed King of Hell, but still, he got a shoulder between Crowley and Mac. "Listen up, your royal hinny-ass, take a step back. Or I'll make you sorry."

"Oooh, Big Daddy, I think I'd love to see you try," Crowley said with distinct appreciation in his voice.

Jack made a face, but didn't step back.

Suddenly, Cas appeared beside Mac as well. "Crowley," he said evenly in his husky voice.

"Clarence," Crowley replied.

Cas shook his head. "That is a very bad pop culture reference. Sam explained it to me. And I already have my wings. You should pay more attention when you are coming up with nicknames. For example, Jack Dalton is of average height and he does not have any children. Your nickname for him makes no sense either."

Jack and Mac looked at each other and started snickering. They were quickly joined in their laughter by Sam and Dean. Dean stepped up behind Crowley and gripped his shoulder. "Yeah, Lucky. We didn't call you hear to pick on the new guy or to not make sense. We called you to find out what the hell you're letting out of your territory to dog the crossroads out here."

Seeing that he was probably not going to get much more entertainment value out of these boys tonight, Crowley brushed Dean off and straightened his jacket. "I already told you, Rocky, I don't know what you and Bullwinkle are on about. I've got nobody up here. Whatever it is … It's not from hell."

"Well then, what is it?" Sam demanded.

Crowley shrugged. He clearly knew. All of them could see it from his expression. "Ah ah ah, Clarence," Crowley said, wiggling a finger at Cas. "No trying to read my thoughts. You save that for your little human playthings, alright?" He smirked again. "Besides, you'll figure it out. Hollywood here is gangbusters at research. Even better than you, Moose."

Mac's glare was impressive, even to Sam and Dean who'd faced plenty of monsters in their day and Mac still wasn't even adjusted to the idea that such things existed. Eyes locked on Crowley, Mac spoke to the Winchesters. "Okay. We summoned a demon and it's useless. How do we get rid of him?"

Crowley's eyes flashed, and he made a quick move toward Mac. The other men tensed to jump the King of Hell, even if all it would buy them is a second. But Mac's hand came out of his pocket and snapped in Crowley's direction. "Aaaaaahhhhh," Crowley screamed in a way that sounded both pained and offended as he stumbled back a few steps.

Everyone realized that little spots all over the demon were smoking. Mac was giving the creature a hard look. "Always bring salt. First rule of Hunters, Your Majesty." He glanced around at the other guys' looks of surprise. "What? He's right. I am good at research."

"Oh, Hollywood. I hope the thing that's roaming these roads takes a nice deep drink of you. Won't that break your loyal and protective Big Daddy's heart? That's what she likes to do, you see."

And he was gone.

Mac puffed out a long breath. Then he reached out and steadied himself against Jack, who's arm had gone around him, just as protectively as Crowley might have predicted just to mock them.

"You okay, Mac?" Sam asked, and everyone was looking at the youngest member of the group with real concern.

After a second Mac nodded, patting Jack's shoulder to let him know he was alright and stepping away.

Jack growled. "Well, that was useless! And now your asshole demon whatever he is knows Mac!"

"I'm sorry, Jack," Dean replied, truly sounding it. "I just seem to keep getting him in deeper and deeper and we didn't even find out anything useful."

"Sure we did," Mac said with a smile that looked very genuine. Cas was grinning at him with approval. Clearly, Mac's capacity for this information had just made a leap forward, since the angel was no longer looking almost as protective as Jack.

"Cas, I think you need to work on his head some more," Dean said. "He's delirious."

"Guys, he told us something really useful," Mac insisted.

Curious looks were exchanged, and Cas looked like he was listening. Cas spoke. "Because it likes to make people who are protecting someone suffer?"

"Exactly," Mac nodded, not even upset that he knew Cas read his thoughts. He grinned at everyone.

"And I think I know what it is."