We're back with chapter two and some whump for your monday ;) Thanks to my guest reviewer Jcat- I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far :)

Also, forgot to mention last time that some scenes and lines of dialogue are taken from the show.

Chapter Two

Dean glanced toward the old broken down factory as he cruised the Impala to a stop cautiously in front of it.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Sam asked, skeptically.

"Yeah," was all Dean said. "I guess he's inside."

He got out of the car, and waited for Sam to follow. His brother took a little longer to make his way out of the Impala, and Dean bit his lip, wondering if he should have brought Sam at all.

But Sam pulled himself together and they crossed to the door at the side of the building. It was already open, causing Dean to pause slightly. He reached for his gun while Sam reached for the demon knife. Just in case.

"Does something feel off to you?" Sam asked as they stepped through the door to the quiet building.

Dean glanced around then took out a flashlight, flicking it on as Sam did the same. "I don't know. Cas?" he called. "You here?"

He and Sam shared a look when they got no reply and continued further into the factory.

"Dean, do you think…" Sam hesitated, then continued. "You don't think one of the other angels could have tricked you again, do you? Like Uriel did to me?"

Dean had already thought of that possibility but he swiftly shook his head. "No. This was Cas, I'm sure of it. I just…I don't know, man, I'm worried. He seemed kinda paranoid, like someone was after him. He wouldn't even say what he needed to in my own head, like someone might be listening in."

Sam frowned. "And he didn't say anything about what this was all about?"

"No, that's what I'm telling you," Dean snapped then shook his head. "Look, I don't know any more than you. Let's just find Cas and see what he has to say."

Sam nodded and they continued on, shining their flashlights off the walls.

"Cas?" Dean called again.

"Dean," Sam said suddenly and pointed his flashlight beam toward something up ahead on the ground.

Dean hurried forward and bent to inspect the sticky red substance.

"Blood?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded grimly. "Yup. But whose blood…"

"It's not demon," Sam said surely and Dean glanced at him quickly, watching the younger man swallow hard with a sick expression. Dean swiftly changed the subject.

"Okay, so there weren't demons here, that's good I guess."

"Yeah, but…I don't think that's who Cas would be worried about, I mean, you've seen the way he handles demons," Sam said as they continued on.

"Well, there's only one way to…holy crap."

They turned a corner into a large open space and looked around. There was a door at one side of the room that had been blasted in, and beyond that, girders and wires littered the ground, having fallen during what looked like some sort of epic battle.

"Dean," Sam said quickly, grabbing his brother's shoulder and pointing to a wall where there was a huge sigil painted in what looked like blood.

Dean crossed over to inspect it and touched a finger to it. It was still tacky.

"This hasn't been here long," he said and then studied the sigil closer. "Sam, this is that sigil Anna used to blow the angels to Oz."

Sam looked around the room again. "You think Cas…?"

Something caught Dean's eye, glinting on the ground and he bent to retrieve an angel blade from a pile of rubble, blood coating the tip. He held it up for Sam to see, a pit forming in his stomach. "Something tells me that Cas didn't get a chance to use it."

Sam shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "So what? Dean, this was angel on angel violence. Whatever Cas had to tell us…it must have been important enough that the angels didn't want it getting out."

Dean swallowed hard. "Yeah. Son of a bitch." He didn't know what to do now. Sure, Cas might have been an angel, but he'd also helped Dean find Sam and several other times since then. And really, the guy seemed to be warming up to them, not nearly as much of a dick as when Dean had first met him. In fact, he'd really kind of started to warm up to the angel, consider him a comrade in arms. Maybe even a friend. In any case, it looked like Cas was in trouble, and Dean was going to guess there was no one else that would be willing to save him.

"What do we do?" Sam asked, rubbing his head as if he had a headache—and Dean figured he probably did.

"Look, Cas got into this mess because he tried to warn us. He already got knocked down in rank because he helped us. The least we can do is try to get him out of this. We need the info he had, but besides that, he helped me save you; this is the least we can do in return."

"But Dean, what if they took him back to Heaven?" Sam demanded. "Look, I want to help him too, but we can't exactly go Mission Impossible on Heaven, I mean, that is actually impossible!"

"I know," Dean snapped as he looked around the wreckage of the factory again to make sure they hadn't missed anything. "I know, but we have to try to find out at least. We'll figure it out."

Sam sighed and nodded. "Okay, I know, I'm worried about him too, but I think we need to regroup, maybe head back to Bobby's."

Dean hesitated, not wanting to go all the way back to Sioux Falls when Cas could still be nearby, but at the same time, there was no guarantee of that; hell, there was no guarantee that he was even still on the same planet if the angels had him. So maybe it would be best to head back to Bobby's place and see if they could find some kind of spell to track an angel or whatever. Or maybe Cas would simply show up again, or get in contact with them. Maybe they had misread this whole situation.

But as Dean once again looked down at the angel blade in his hand and the sigil on the wall, he knew his gut instinct was right and that Cas had to be in deep trouble.

Castiel grunted as he was thrown to the ground, still bound helplessly by the sigiled chains. He'd landed on his side, gasping for breath; the flight through the ether hadn't been pleasant with all his powers and his wings bound. It had been like being sucked through a vacuum in space. Not an experience he wanted to repeat.

"Get him up."

Castiel glanced up, as Zachariah's lackeys came to drag him up from the ground. The chains that bound him were unlooped from around his torso and instead bound around his wrists and forearms, before the ends were chained around two pillars positioned in the room on either side of him. Castiel took in his surroundings for the first time. He wasn't sure where he was, but it looked like it might have been an underground train station, that was now long abandoned. Broken down, places in the ceiling dripping down to leave mildew and mold. It didn't look like there had been anyone down here for ten years at least. This was the kind of place that the Winchesters would likely go to hunt ghosts, or find monsters. Castiel vaguely wondered if any of those beings might be lurking around here. But he figured that anything that had been would be scared away by the angels; most other creatures of the supernatural universe knew to stay away from them.

"Get him on his knees," Zachariah barked to the other angels as they finished securing Castiel between the pillars. "I want him properly humble."

Castiel nearly snorted, and struggled as the two angels grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to his knees on the wet concrete beneath him. It was rich for Zachariah to want someone humble when he was the most prideful angel in the garrison.

"So, Castiel," Zachariah said, as he strode over to the chained angel, stepping in front of him, and looking like he was enjoying looking down at Castiel in his kneeling position. "I can only assume you know why you're here. So, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Castiel glowered up at him, shaking his head. "I have nothing to say on the matter, Zachariah."

The angel cocked an eyebrow. "No? Is that so?"

The hand lashed out before Castiel was ready and Zachariah backhanded him across the face.

"Because, let me tell you something, Castiel," Zachariah snarled, all false attempts at pleasantries gone. "You have gone way off the reservation this time. I mean, you've always been trouble, and I've always had to put you in your place, but this time, oh-ho, this time, you really take the cake."

Castiel narrowed his eyes, the side of his face stinging more than it should have, likely due to his bound grace. "I was only doing my duty," he said sincerely.

"Your duty?" Zachariah asked with a humorless chuckle. "And what was that duty, Castiel? Did it involve gallivanting off with your human charges, without any report to heaven about what you were doing? And then visiting the prophet to find out information I specifically told you not to inquire into? And as if that wasn't bad enough the next thing you do is run off to the Winchesters—again—to tell them all about what you found out."

"You mean, to tell them that you and the other angels want to start the apocalypse, instead of prevent it?" Castiel demanded. "Because I think that's kind of important."

"It's meant to be, Castiel," Zachariah snarled, clenching his fists. "Would you go against God's will?"

"No, I would not," Castiel said firmly. "But neither do I believe this is His will. I don't think any of our orders have been from God for a long time. So I choose not to follow these orders." Perhaps against his better judgment, but he had made his stand and he was not going to back down now.

The other angels shook their heads slightly in disgust as Zachariah scoffed again. "You are so ignorant and brazen, you wretch," he said. "You will rebel now? Is that it? Will you fall—like Anna did? I should have expected it as soon as she came back. You two always were close. Has she corrupted your mind as well?"

Castiel shook his head. "No, I have simply decided to think for myself. And I came to this conclusion: I would much rather risk defying the orders of other angels that I doubt than risk going against our Father, and since I truly believe that he is not giving the orders, then I think I will choose the first option."

Zachariah gave a longsuffering sigh, but Castiel thought there was some satisfaction there at hearing his answer too. That made the captive angel sick to his stomach, knowing very well what was in store for him now that he had made his decision—all too aware of just what Zachariah was capable of.

"Well, I suppose that just means I'm going to have to teach you a lesson in obedience," Zachariah said and snapped his fingers at one of the other angels. "Josiah, prepare him."

Castiel was unable to keep from jerking at his chains as Josiah approached him with his angel blade out. The other angel, Malachi, Castiel recognized, went over to a table nearby that held several implements that were obviously meant for Castiel's punishment. He couldn't see what Malachi was selecting though because Josiah was now standing in front of him, blocking his view. He took his blade in a businesslike manner and Castiel flinched as Josiah gripped one of his wrists and then sliced the blade cleanly through the sleeve of his coats and shirt. He did the same with the other side and finally, with one efficient rip the clothing was torn away from him, leaving Castiel bare-chested now. Oddly enough, the only thing he could think about was how perturbed he felt at seeing the clothing lying in a ruined pile on the floor. Of course it hadn't been the first time he'd had to repair it since he had taken Jimmy Novak as his vessel—his first meeting with Dean in this form hadn't exactly gone smoothly—but the clothes were Jimmy's and Castiel was rather protective of his vessel.

Of course, now Zachariah was going to torture him in this vessel, so Castiel realized that some ripped clothes probably didn't matter in the whole scheme of things. Instead he turned inward briefly and made sure Jimmy was buried deeply with no chance of feeling any pain.

By then, Malachi had handed Zachariah the tool of choice and Castiel saw that it was a whip. But not simply a normal one either, no, this one had metal tips on each of the five flails that were made of the same material as an angel blade so that it could cause true pain to an angel. The sight of it brought back memories Castiel had wished to repress. He'd watched what it could do before when the garrison was called to witness the punishments of other angels who had disobeyed in the past. He remembered one occasion washing Balthazar's wounds after the fact when the angel had been too smart to Zachariah during a campaign long ago now. He suppressed a shudder. This whip did terrible things to an angel's flesh, able to touch their true form, but even worse, if it was allowed to touch the wings—that was agony.

Zachariah seemed pleased as he watched the emotions wash over Castiel's face. "You will learn your lesson, Castiel, one way or another," the higher angel said, slowly walking around Castiel's chained form so that he was at his back.

Castiel's shoulders clenched expectantly, just waiting for the first lash to fall.

"Who do you serve, Castiel?" Zachariah asked.

Castiel stayed silent. There was no answer he could give that Zachariah wanted to hear.

Zachariah huffed a sigh, and Castiel imagined him shaking his head. "Very well. You've made your choice. I hope, for your sake, you'll see the error in your ways soon enough."

There was a brief whistle and displacement of air and then fire erupted across his shoulder blades. Castiel choked back a cry, refusing the make a sound so soon. But he did jerk forward in his chains at the impact with a sharp exhale. Zachariah delivered several more blows, each one heavier than the last until Castiel finally let a sharp yelp escape his throat. Zachariah paused for a moment as he slumped, panting, against the chains.

"Who do you serve, Castiel?" Zachariah asked more forcefully.

Castiel just shook his head and shut his eyes as his world exploded in agony once again.

Dean gripped the Impala's steering wheel tight as they drove down the wet road, rain dancing across the windshield. He kept glancing over at Sam in the passenger seat. He looked both uncomfortable and exhausted, but yet the kid was refusing to sleep—probably because of nightmares. Dean didn't really blame him. He was kind of hoping he could convince Sam to stay at Bobby's while Dean and the older hunter went off to see what they could do about Cas, but he knew that wasn't going to happen.

The image of the wreckage in that factory flashed in front of Dean's mind again, reminding him of what Sam had said: Angel on angel violence. What the hell had Cas gotten himself into? And why was he all of a sudden on Heaven's hit list? Unless it was angels like Uriel, ones who wanted to raise Lucifer and this was some kind of…what, gang war? Still, Cas had obviously been defending himself from his winged comrades, with the sigils, and the bloody angel blade that Dean now carried inside of his jacket. He just worried this might be bigger than what he or Sam could even hope to stop.

He was lost in thought when a feminine voice suddenly spoke from the back seat. "Hey guys."

"Whoa!" Dean cried out, after catching sight of a figure in the rearview mirror and jerking the wheel in shock, nearly swerving into oncoming traffic. Sam was definitely awake now and gripping the door and the dash for dear life.

Once Dean's mind finally caught up with the fact that it was Anna sitting in his backseat, he tried to force his heartbeat down to a simple gallop.

"Smooth," Anna stated wryly.

"Ever try calling ahead?" Dean demanded, knuckles white on the wheel.

"I like the element of surprise," Anna said blandly.

Dean glanced over his shoulder at the angel, her red hair looking rather windswept, and, well, of course he couldn't help but remember their night together in that backseat before everything had gone to hell. "Wow, you look terrific," he had to say. Sam shot him a look.

"Yeah, not the most appropriate time, Dean," Anna said awkwardly, before she leaned forward. "Look, have either of you talked to Castiel recently?"

Dean shared a glance with Sam before casting another look at Anna over his shoulder. "Uh, yeah, actually. He did the whole dream walking thing last night, asked me to meet him somewhere so he could tell us something important."

"And?" Anna asked expectantly.

"And when we got there the place was a disaster zone," Dean said grimly and met her eyes in the rearview mirror. "You know what happened?"

Anna's eyes turned frightened and she shook her head. "No, but I heard he'd been…apprehended."

Both Sam and Dean glanced back over the seat at her. "What the hell does that mean?" Dean asked.

"It means it's bad," Anna said. "Painfully, awfully, bad."

Sam and Dean shared another look and the worry that had already settled in Dean's stomach just knotted further.

"He must have seriously pissed someone off," Anna said.

"Anna, Cas said he had something to tell me, something important. Do you have any idea what it might have been?"

"No," she said, "But whatever it is, it's huge. Cas wouldn't risk being taken back to Heaven for anything that wasn't seriously important."

"Taken back to Heaven?" Sam's eyes blew wide. "Is that where he is?"

Dean's stomach churned even more. If Cas was in Heaven, they had no hope of mounting a rescue.

But Anna shook her head. "No. I would have heard on angel radio if he had been. All I heard was that he was apprehended, but for some reason, they're keeping him here on Earth. Neither implication is good. Especially since it was Zachariah who took him."

"Wait, Zachariah? I met him," Dean said with a frown. "He said he was Cas' superior."

Anna snorted. "Yeah, and he's a real piece of work. Always looking for an excuse to punish the angels he doesn't like, and his brand of torture is particularly cruel. I should know. He calls it punishment, 're-education', but he enjoys it more than he has to."

Dean glanced back at the red-headed angel again, seeing the haunted look in her eyes and swallowing hard. He knew torture, and what someone looked like when they had endured horrific suffering and he could tell that Anna definitely had.

"But he's still on Earth?" Dean asked. "That means we can find him."

"Are you crazy?" Anna demanded. "You two wouldn't stand a chance against Zachariah, especially Sam who reeks of demon blood—sorry," she apologized quickly as Sam ducked his head, shame written across his face.

"I'm trying to get it out of my system," he said quietly, wetting his lips.

"I know, but Zachariah will use it against you," she told him. "Not to mention the fact you have a fever and can't think straight."

"Okay, but what about me?" Dean asked. "Aren't I supposed to be the one to stop the apocalypse? They're not gonna do anything to me."

Anna snorted. "Wanna bet? Zachariah wouldn't think twice about tearing you apart and putting you back together again. Or locking you up until they need you if you're lucky. But you take Sam with you up against him and Zachariah isn't going to have any qualms about killing your brother."

Dean swallowed hard, anger coursing through him. "Okay, I get it. But Cas helped us when he didn't have to. He helped me save Sam from Alastair and he got into this mess because he tried to tell us something. We can't just leave him to that douchebag's torture."

Anna seemed slightly surprised but she nodded slowly. "I agree. Cas and I may have drifted apart over the years but he is my friend. My brother. If you're going after him, then I will help you. I fear I might be partially responsible for his position as well."

Dean frowned but before he could ask why, Anna continued. "I'm going to go see if I can get a location."

"Okay, but be careful," Dean told her. "You're already a fugitive."

"I'm well aware," Anna replied. "But I will be careful."

"We'll be at Bobby's," Sam told her.

Anna nodded and then disappeared again.

Dean glanced over at Sam and shook his head. "Well, crap."