Sorry the time line is just jumping around once I finish the story ill address the problem.

Chapter 6 – Troubles

[Sam's POV]

Back in the hospital

Sam was very surprised when Dean tossed him the car keys whilst they fled the hospital. Dean held Castiel's sleeping figure close to him as they weaved through the panicking patients and staff, ducking their heads to seem less suspicious. Sam had an angel blade tucked inside his sleeve and ready to strike but he knows, the angels have fallen and they no longer have the advantage of teleportation or speed. Their odds aren't so bad after all.

Dean slammed open the nearest emergency exit door with his shoulder as its alarm stared blaring; Sam looked back and saw security guards rush toward the main entrance, Tasers ready.

"Sam! 3 o'clock!" Dean said in a huffed voice as they rushed out of the doors and Sam followed his stare. Sure enough, their very identifiable car parked right in front of the hospital door had attracted the attention of two angels: one male, one female. Skins on the faces of both vessels are starting to peel off and the late morning sunlight caught the reflective material of their blades under their sleeves.

Sam silently cursed in his head for parking at such an obvious spot. But Cas was in trouble and Dean is not one to let his friend suffer alone. He felt the angel blade in his hand heat up as adrenaline started pumping in his body, fingers tight around it.

He breathed in and slowly, started walking toward the two angels. But just then, out of nowhere, someone's fist collided with his jaw. His eyes blacked out for a moment as self-defense instincts kicked in. Turning around he raised his arm, perfectly blocking the attacker's second blow. Unsteady, the angel swayed in his stance and that was enough time for Sam to kick him right in the chest. The angel fell back onto the asphalt ground and reached for his weapon. But before he could even get up, Sam's angel blade was driven into his throat and immediately, his grace exploded within him in a bright flash of light.

He stood up and looked back at the car: plan change—it's no longer an ambush. The two angel's eyes darted from Sam to Dean and Castiel but eventually, settled on their target. No way are they going anywhere near Dean and Cas without going through him first, Sam thought and shot a quick glance at Dean along with a steady nod. The two angels slid their blades out of their sleeves as they picked up speed toward the three. Sam stood his ground, evaluating their fighting pattern and the best method to put them down. The guy attacked him first, his thin blond hair flying in the wind and repeatedly getting in his eyes. Sam could tell, the angel's quite… amateur at being on earth. A smirk painted itself on his thin lips as he looked at Sam dangerously and he lashed out, sharp end of his blade barely even grazed Sam's hair as Sam leaned back naturally. At the same time, the angel's other hand that was meant to be closing around his neck was intercepted halfway then twisted. The smirk dissolved on his face as he yelped in surprise and pain as the crackle of bones breaking sounded from the point of collision. He tried again to stab Sam in the stomach but was sidestepped and wrestled to the ground, soon followed by the bright light as the angel blade pierced itself through his abdomen. Sam clenched his teeth as he pulled the blade out. Two down, one to go.

Returning his attention to the third angel, his eyes connected with hers briefly as the origin of the strange blue glare struck him. He realized in horror: she's using the angel radio for backup. Better be quick before others come. He took two long strides toward her as she snapped out of her focused trance and ducked just when Sam threw his punch.

"Nice try, ape." She said venomously as she got up and the two circled each other. The angel twirled her shiny blade in her hand as if it's a toy and she knows it by its molecules.

"I'm not here today to chat." Sam bit back and charged. Punches were exchanged and she was very skilled within areas of combat. Before, Sam wouldn't even have stood a chance against her but now with most of her energy gone from the fall, she's just another tricky target. The angel threw her forearms up to block Sam's blade, but he stepped to the side, pushed the woman's elbow down and away, caught her head, and rolled her into the floor. She gasped but with her small form, managed to slip out of his strong grasp. Turning around, she quickly recovered and with one swift motion sent the blade straight toward Sam's heart. But luckily to Sam's experience, he easily rolled his hand under her wrist, and drove her hand around her back and down. The blade slipped out of her fingers and clattered onto the floor. Totally exposed, she too, soon turned into another dead vessel sprawled across the ground.

He ran a hand through his messy hair as he stood up and collected her blade: you can never have too many. Looking at Dean, he seems so defensive with one arm pressing Cas' head tightly to his shoulder and another under his knees. Dean stared at him for a brief secondx as alarm continued to sound in the distance and finally, they sprinted for the impala as the first angels began pouring out of the giant spinning doors.

"Gogogogogo!" Dean shouted as he pushed Cas into the backseat and then followed in himself. Sam jumped in the drivers seat and started the engine; Doors slamming shut, engine purring and tires squealing, they managed to drive in reverse out of the parking lot just before the first gunshots were fired.

Even driving above the speed limit it took Sam 18 full ours to arrive at the bunker. Now and then, he'd glace at the rearview mirror and see Dean looking over Cas as he sleeps, worried.

He can tell.

"Dean, maybe you should get some rest." Sam said quietly, taking his eyes off the plain highway as the sun sets around them.

"I'm fine, Sammy." He replied, brushing it off even though he did not sleep for the past day and half. "You know, before Gabriel left, he said something about it being a curse…did you check on him for hex bags?"

Sam paused for a moment as he realized that because of the hurry, they'd forgotten to get Cas' personal belongings. "Crap."

On the bright side, one of the many perks of being a demon hunter is having numerous fake IDs. Pretending to be a federal agent he managed to persuade the hospital into sending him the clothing in an express flight and it arrived half a day later. After they got to the bunker late at night, Dean carried Cas into his room "It has the biggest bed, and it is the most comfortable. Cas deserves something nice because…because he's been homeless for the past week." He'd said to Sam.

Sam sat by one of the long tables in the main area and decided to read but before he knew it, he was consumed by his fatigue as well.

When he woke up, the package has arrived and he carried it into the dungeon and sat it onto the small lonely table in the center of the demon's trap. He glanced at his watch: 10:30 am. They should be up now but the entire bunker seems oddly asleep except for him and the shuffling of his boots. Hastily, he tore open the wide packing tape and pulled out a blood splattered dress shirt – he patted the shallow pockets: nothing suspicious. He went through all articles of clothing and finally, lifted the familiar beige trench coat out of the paper box. It looks so dirtied with several rips near the bottom…but it's still a part of Cas. And there it is. His fingers closed around a small hex bag tucked neatly inside the right hand side pocket and pulled it out: bingo. The bag was clearly made in a rush, the black velvety material looks as if it's torn off and tied with a piece of old grass.

He recognizes the material

Crowley.

He flicked opened the lighter and sat the tiny object on fire as it bursted in a spurt of blue flames. If it all goes well, Cas should have his memory back and they can go on from there: find Metatron, find Crowley, save the world. Easy, right?

Of course not.

The last of the left over ashes fell to the floor as Sam patted his hands on the side of his jeans, ready to get back to finding them a case. But as he walked down the long hallway, he heard footsteps; Then a few louder thumps from someone running.

"Sammy?!" Dean's voice echoed through the corridor.

"I'm here!" Sam called back and picked up his pace. Something is wrong.

Soon enough they crossed paths at the kitchen and the wild look in Dean's eyes scared him. His eyes quickly darted over Dean's appearance. His hair is a total mess and red marks peeked out from the collar of his tight black t-shirt.

"Are you hurt?" Sam stepped forward and put his hands onto each of Dean's shoulders.

"No." He said almost too quickly and looked away for a millisecond before that stern and angry look reappeared on his face. "Sam, we gotta go." He said as he turned around and out of Sam's grasp, heading for the door.

"What do you mean 'we gotta go'?" He said as he grabbed his grey jacket from the hangers and threw it on, struggling to keep up with Dean's long strides. "I mean—how's Cas doing? Did he get better, I found the hex bag and burnt it."

"Yes…I mean, no." Dean said absentmindedly, accidentally knocking a book down from the edge of a desk.

"What's wrong?" Sam stopped in his track, eyebrows furrowed together and refusing to continue until Dean spills the beans.

Dean slowed down and looked back, befuddled by Sam's sudden lack of movement. He swallowed and finally looked straight into his eyes, they were glassy and weary. "They got him."

"Who?"

"Bartholomew."

"But how? Wasn't Cas in the bunker with you? When did he leave? Why did he leave?"

"I don't know, Sammy." Dean closed his eyes and tucked on his hair as if he's in pain. "All I know is they have him."

"I—" Sam stuttered in disbelief. "Let's go then, tell me everything you know along the way."

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