A/N: Hello everyone! Greetings from the ark! Just kidding. However it does feel like I should be in an ark. I'm here in sunny, dry, warm SC, where there has not been any rain whatsoever. That was sarcasm, by the way. On the bright side, my college classes are cancelled this week! Hurray!

CarverEdlundtheLast: Yes, I love Jimmy. Poor guy really can't catch a break. I promise there is more canon in your future. Glad you enjoyed! CatstielWinchespurr: Thank you! It's for finished stories so I'm trying to write as fast as possible. And yes, the plot has thickened. Warning you now, it will get thicker. Of course, Cat's in the Cradle showing up on this chapter should warn you. Tune in for heartbreak! (Really though, it gets kind of dark. I recommend shock blankets. Yes, I'm a horrible person. It won't come for a few chapters though.)


Chapter 26: Out of the Frying Pan


*Previously on* with Cat's in the Cradle by Cat Stevens.

"Bye, Daddy," Dean clung to John, uncertain when he would see him again, if ever. John rubbed a hand through his hair, then pulled away to look the child in the eye, "Okay, now, remember the rules. Do not let anyone in. That means anyone, you understand?" Dean nodded. "Good. Don't answer the phone. If I call, I'll let it ring twice, then call back. Repeat it back to me."

"Ring twice, call back."

"Good. And if anyone tries to force their way in, what?"

"Shoot first, ask questions later."

John nodded, "Yeah. There's a reason I gave you that gun. If you have to run, call Pastor Jim and he'll come get you. If you are gone when I get back, I'll assume that's where you are."

"Yes, sir."

"And watch out for Sammy. Remember, he's not so big as you, he needs help."

"Okay, Daddy."

"All right." He smiled, "See you later." And with that he walked out the door.

Dean locked and bolted it, then grabbed a bag of salt from beside the door, shaking out a thick line in front of it. He walked around and checked the other lines, then plopped himself on the couch, getting up a second later to turn on the TV. He flipped the channel to cartoons and mindlessly zoned out, glad to ignore the world and take a break.


He had been watching for perhaps an hour when the TV suddenly turned to static. Dean got up, grumbling about the crummy appliances in motel rooms, and began to play with the old-fashioned dials, turning them this way and that in an attempt to get a picture.

Sam glanced around worriedly. The room felt odd, like it was being filled with energy somehow. He watched as a couple of lightbulbs broke in quick succession. Sam glanced desperately at his brother. Dean would have a plan. Dean would know what to do.

Dean hadn't noticed, his attention fixated on the television. Sam's eyes widened as he properly studied the room for the first time. It was the room from his dream. The room where that boy had taken them.

Certain now that the events were related, he ran towards Dean, determined to rescue him before he got knocked out. However he stopped, stomach dropping as he heard a fluttering noise behind him. He was too late.

Sam turned around, expecting to see a dark-haired boy examining the room. He was greatly surprised to see a man, with platinum blond hair and odd grey eyes staring straight at them. There was an almost otherworldly quality about him, and Sam was nearly certain that he was the source of the energy he had felt. His eyes were wide and he was breathing heavily, he seemed stressed and hurried.

"Dean." He spoke.

The addressed person whirled around, his manner turning instantly confrontational, "How did you get in here?"

"It doesn't matter. You are both in danger." Michael walked across the room to the bathroom door, rolling one sleeve up to his elbow. He dropped an odd-looking knife into his hand out of the other sleeve, raising it to make a deep cut in his forearm.

"Okay. And why do you care?"

The man barely glanced at him, covering his fingers in blood from the cut and swiping them across the door, "Because I have a stake in your future." He paused in his task, turning to stare at Dean, "I'm sorry Dean. I wish it didn't have to be like this. This burden you bear… it is too much to ask of a human." He slicked his fingers again and continued to paint the door.

Dean glared at him, "What burden?"

The man, apparently finished with the blood, pulled a Ziploc bag out of his pocket, taking out a few white feathers and sticking them here and there on the symbol, "It is too early to say. All will be revealed in time. It is not important now. For now you must run."

Dean stood, positioning himself in front of Sam and pulling out his gun, "Oh no, asshat. We're not going anywhere. Not until you tell us what's going on!"

"Dean, I assure you, this is for your protection."

"I don't want protection! Now get out of here before I shoot."

The man looked at him, smiling slightly and shaking his head, "You don't get it, do you? You think that you're so powerful, standing there, trembling, some piece of primitive foolishness in your hands. The truth of the matter is, I am the only thing keeping you safe."

"Yeah, well, thanks for that. Now get out."

"I would have you guarded, but there is no one I can trust. They all take orders from my brother. It's not their fault, they don't know any better. And Raphael will take you, and he will twist you to his purpose, and destroy every good thing in you my Father made."

"So, what? You come in and mess up our motel room? Real smart there, dude."

"I am sending you to someone. He will protect you."

Dean's tone turned threatening, "Daddy's gonna come back, and when he does-"

"Your father will not return, not until after you do." He walked towards Dean, cupping his face in his hands. Dean stared up into the man's smiling face, tears leaking out of his eyes in fear as he came to a disturbing revelation.

"You're not human, are you?" the boy whispered.

"It's all right, Dean. You will be safe. Get some rest."

The strange man walked over to the door, reaching up a hand to touch the bizarre symbol, pausing a few inches away, "The person I am sending you too, tell him Michael sent you."

Dean fired off two shots, the first burying itself in the man's chest, the second leaving Dean's gun just as the man slammed his hand onto the middle of the symbol.


To clarify, in case there was any confusion, the angel in this scene was Michael.