They returned to the house several hours later, the Impala laden with dubious materials from nearly every hunter they knew. Dean had always been a diligent and efficient worker, but in this task he had become borderline draconian. It was as if his whole world rode upon the success of this single summoning ritual. For all Sam knew, it just might.

"We'll need to clear a space in the living room," Dean said, setting down a box in the kitchen. "All the furniture needs to go, we gotta have plenty of acreage in there."

"All right," Sam replied, setting down a bag full of myrrh and a jug of oil. "Are we going to use holy fire as well?"

"We might as well go all the way, we don't know how cooperative this guy's going to be." Dean sniffed a jar of blood dubiously. "Blargh. What is this, lamb's blood? Pretty close to going bad, judging by the smell."

Sam glanced around the kitchen, noticing how bony and unsteady his brother's frame was with a pang. "Before we get started, why don't you have something to eat?" he suggested hopefully.

"Sam I just took a giant whiff of lamb's blood, and you want me to grab a snack?"

Sam sighed. "Come on Dean, you know what I mean. You haven't eaten in two weeks, you'll need your strength for this."

Dean drew a number of small satchels out of a burlap sack. "I'm fine, Sam. If you're so keen on me keeping my strength, why don't you mosey on into there and start clearing the space for some angel nabbing, huh?"

Sam thought about arguing, but he knew the odds of getting anywhere were low. Instead he sighed and made his way to the living room. With a grunt he set his weight against the couch and drove it across the floor, sliding into a mostly empty side room that served as a scant library. He then went back for the coffee table, the end tables, and the rug. Dean slid a small card table into the space, and began mixing the ritual ingredients together in a large bowl. "I don't know if we've used this angel summoning before," he said, frowning over an open book beside him.

"Why, where's it from?" asked Sam, coming over to look.

"One of Bobby's old books. There's a circle we're supposed to draw on the floor, look. You wanna have a go at that?"

Sam studied the complicated sigil. "I'll try, but it might be a while. Lots of Enochian."

"Well, better you than me. You know what my handwriting's like."

Sam sorted through their supplies until he found a piece of chalk, then set to laying out the summoning circle. Above and behind him he could hear Dean pounding away with a mortar and pestle. They worked in silence for a long while.

Many minutes later, Sam stepped back and appraised his circle. "I think that's about as good as I can make it. Are you ready?"

Dean scanned the ritual again. "Yep. Let's do this bitch."

Together the brothers stood behind the table, and Dean lit a candle on either side of the bowl of herbs. "Monons ol nazpsad, gah ol oiad oadriax," he said clumsily. "Gaha ol lvciftian nostoah ollor olani vls lit. Monons ol faaip od darbs." He nodded to Sam, who dropped a lit match into the bowl. The herbs began to smolder a deep blue, and from outside the walls of the house there came a faint whistling as the wind picked up.

"Olani vmd Pahaliah, oiad gassagen," Dean recited. "Olani ol maz emna. Oe oiad monasci ol nanta od oadriax noasmi ol ollog!"

The blue flames within the herb bowl leapt high, and the wind rattled the shutters outside. Below their feet the floor began to vibrate, and a humming grew in the air around them. Dean gripped the book tightly in his shaking hands. "Maz ladnah, hami ol olpirt!"

There was a crack and a flash of lightning outside, and the tall red-haired man Sam had met at the door appeared in the center of the circle with a whoosh. "What is the meaning of this?" he snapped.

Sam stared at the angel as Dean shut the book with a thud. "Is that him?" he asked Sam, who nodded. Dean leveled his gaze into the center of the circle. "Good," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Pahaliah is it? I'm Dean Winchester."

"Pleasure," said Pahaliah suspiciously. "What exactly am I doing here, boys? Oh, wait. This…this is about the letter isn't it? Whatever it said, I have nothing to do with it, and the whole thing is none of my business."

"I'll decide that," Dean retorted.

"I'm afraid you won't," Pahaliah said, folding his slender arms. "I have better things to do than chat with you two."

"Sam, now," Dean ordered. Sam quickly bent to the floor, lighter in hand, and ignited the line of holy oil. Instantly a ring of fire roared about Pahaliah trapping him completely.

"What the…holy fire?" Pahaliah exclaimed, amber eyes flaring in the firelight. "Well then, this is rather serious isn't it? What exactly requires this sort of…hospitality?"

Dean appraised the angel, his expression hard. "You mentioned to my brother that you were a friend of Cas's?"

Pahaliah lifted his chin. "I would say acquaintance, to be honest. And good thing too, otherwise I'd probably be dead by now. Castiel's friends never did seem to fare very well."

"But you knew him, yes?" Dean cut across.

"Well enough. After Balthazar died, I suppose I was the last angel in existence who could think of him as anything other than a military governor."

Dean began to slowly pace around the perimeter of the circle, arms folded in thought. "All right then," he said, fixing Pahaliah with his gaze. "Where is he now?"

"Dean…" Sam interrupted weakly.

"Quiet Sammy," Dean ordered as Pahaliah looked back and forth between them.

The angel's lip curled. "I haven't the foggiest idea."

"You're an angel, of course you do," Dean snapped.

"You would think so, wouldn't you? Unfortunately in Cas's case I'm afraid I'm telling the truth. Not that I have any reason to, seeing as how you boys are treating me."

Dean frowned. "Fine then, when was the last time you saw him?"

Pahaliah glanced around at the flames. "I assure you Dean, this is quite pointless," he said. "He's dead. He's not coming back. Why do you even care anyway?"

"Just answer the question!" Dean shouted suddenly, causing Sam to jump.

"All right, easy!" Pahaliah said through gritted teeth. "The last time I saw him was when he gave me the letter. He was human then; it was a few months after he fell. He summoned me to this very house, incidentally. Gave me the letter and told me to give it to you should anything happen to him. That's all. Seriously, this is ridiculous. What more could you possibly want?"

Dean set his jaw and turned away, remaining silent. Sam glanced at him before looking towards Pahliah again. "We don't mean to be so…curt, with you," he said hurriedly. "Really. It's just that Dean thinks there might be a way to get Cas back."

"It's impossible," Pahaliah said immediately. "Reincarnation, reanimation, demon deals, resurrection by angel - Heaven shut all that stuff down years ago. Most normal magic doesn't even work anymore. I'm surprised you were even able to conjure up an effective angel summoning."

"Yeah, well, still people don't just disappear when they die," Dean said, turning back around to face Pahaliah. "We know that. Cas is somewhere, and I mean to find him. Where do you think he's gone?"

Pahaliah shrugged. "Heaven I expect, with all the rest of the humans."

"I thought you said you didn't know where he was," Dean interjected angrily.

"I don't," Pahaliah said. "I'm guessing."

"But angels live in Heaven; surely you've seen Cas around," Sam said.

"Heaven is a vast and infinitely expanding plane," Pahaliah said, rolling his eyes. "I'm an angel, not a magician. He could be anywhere in there, and as long as he didn't draw attention to himself, I probably wouldn't be able to locate him. Heaven is just too large and multi-faceted for a search."

Dean fixed Pahaliah with a long look, clearly deep in thought. "Could you bring us there?" he asked finally. "To Heaven?"

Pahaliah snickered. "Sure, put out this holy fire and I'll smite the pair of you where you stand."

"You know that's not what I mean."

The angel rolled his amber eyes again. "Without actually killing you then? Maybe. Certainly not for very long. What, you think you can just mosey on in there, give a shout, and Cas will appear in front of you?"

"I have to try," Dean said, stubborn.

"Hold on a minute," said Sam, "even if we do find him, there's no way we can get him back here."

Dean glanced over at him, then back at the angel. "Is he right?"

"Not exactly," Pahaliah said. "You see, angels can't resurrect humans any more, not in the same way we used to. However, if we find Cas's soul, I can transport it to his body using the same method that Cas used to raise Dean's soul from Hell."

"So what you're saying is that you can't just tap his forehead and bring him back, but if we find his soul, you could use that to resurrect him?"

"Yes, probably," Pahaliah said with a nod.

Dean frowned. "And would you?"

Pahaliah raised an eyebrow. "I admit I am not very inclined to do so. This has hardly been a friendly visit."

Letting out a sigh, Dean folded his arms. "If you were really a friend of Cas's," he said, "you shouldn't need our persuasion to try and get him back. This is what friends do for one another."

"We would be in your debt," Sam added, putting on his most heart-wrenchingly pleading expression. Dean's eyes flickered over, and a small smile tweaked at the corner of his mouth.

The angel snorted. "That look isn't going to work on me."

"Please," Sam pleaded. "We just want to see our friend again. It's been…it's just been so hard without him, you know? It wasn't his time. He deserves another chance."

"He's hard more chances than all the rest of the angels put together!" Pahaliah barked, glancing back and forth between them, his expression vexed. "I…ugh. All right. Assuming you boys find him, which I doubt…"

"We will," Dean said determinedly.

"…then, yes, I suppose I will resurrect him. But be warned! I'm not going to hold your hand in this. And, first things first, put out this damn holy fire."

Dean nodded at Sam, who grabbed a small fire extinguisher from the kitchen and used it to spray out the flames. Pahaliah stepped out of the circle, flexing his fingers. "Very good," he said. "You guys had better be prepared to do me some major favors for just about the rest of your lives for this."

"So can you send us up to Heaven or not?" Dean asked.

Pahaliah gave him a long look. "This is turning into an awful lot of work," he complained. "Considering I don't even like you."

"It's not for us," said Sam. "It's for Cas."

Turning his gaze on Sam, Pahaliah let out a sigh. "Right, right, of course," he muttered. "Fine. Let's get this over with."