Michael was sitting at a table in the lounge attached to the bar when Crowley appeared opposite him. The King of Hell gave him a small smile that was nonetheless strained around the edges.

"I've just heard the third complaint today concerning the whereabouts of some of my feathered employees," he began without preamble. "I don't suppose you are aware of this."

Michael regarded the King of Hell coolly. "I am."

Crowley appeared to be waiting for Michael to say more. When he didn't he leaned forward. The nonchalance he usually employed was gone now. "Refresh my memory. Our arrangement concerned the kitten, and the kitten only, did it not?"

"Castiel is not the only angel in your employ, Crowley," he explained. He saw the fingers on his right hand twitch, very slightly, ignored it. It appeared that Crowley had not seen it either. "I will be taking all my brothers and sisters home. They have been denied paradise for too long."

Crowley set his jaw. "Spare me your familial concerns, angel," he drawled. "I'm running a business here, and having my staff taken without my knowledge hurts said business. I'm sure you understand."

Michael now leaned forward, locked eyes with Crowley. The demon had the good sense to back off, if only a little. "The only thing you should concern yourself with is my allowing this establishment to remain," he said in low tones. "I have sent my brothers to those in your employ with words only. I promised to let Castiel fulfill his obligations tonight; I am extending the same courtesy to the others. If any should flee I will ensure they are returned."

"I don't need your boys to fetch what's mine," Crowley retorted and snapped his fingers. A pair of demons appeared behind him. After issuing orders for the fallen angels to be watched closely, and the demons vanished, Crowley turned to Michael. "I'm disappointed in you, Michael. I had thought our business partnership to be a little more open."

"And you thought wrong," Michael answered calmly. He saw the remark hit home. Crowley managed another tight smile before he vanished.

Alone now, Michael turned his attention to the group of patrons at the bar. At spotting Sam Winchester among them, the look of astonishment on his face, Michael felt his right hand tremble more, tightened it into a fist. Doing well to hide his annoyance, he sent the young Winchester a courteous nod. Sam's face soon turned cold (it was incredible how much he resembled Lucifer) before he started forward. Michael lifted a brow. Well, this would be interesting.

It wasn't as interesting as Gabriel appearing in front of Sam, a restraining hand on his chest. "Hey, slow down there, kiddo," Gabriel said smoothly. He turned to send Michael a smile that was without warmth. "Let me handle this."

Sam pointed past Gabriel's shoulder, his face dark. "No," he growled. "Let me talk to him."

Gabriel patted Sam's chest as if soothing an agitated animal. "All in good time."

"Gabe-"

Michael watched his brother turn to face Sam, take a fistful of his shirt and draw him closer. There was a whispered conference- Sam was shaking his head, and Gabriel gave him a little shake- before Sam relented. Michael saw him grasp Gabriel's hand, tightly.

After Sam had walked away Gabriel turned to him, gave a helpless smile. "Kids, huh?" he commented airily. "Never smart enough to stay away from dangerous things."

Michael favored him with a tiny smile. "Sometimes they need to be burned before they understand the fire is harmful."

"Then it's a good thing he has me watching over him," Gabriel countered. He stood at the other side of the table now, the smile gone from his face. "No one knows better how much Sam's been burned."

Michael made a little sound of understanding. "I see. Is that why you have refused my offer to come home? Don't you miss Heaven, brother?" he asked. "There is no disorder or chaos. There is only peace."

"Are you kidding? There's more chaos up there than on Earth. Sorry," Gabriel told him firmly. "To hell with you, brother. I think I'll take my chances here." With that Gabriel was gone.

There was a rush of wings at Michael's shoulder. "Shall I retrieve him?" Raphael asked, his tone indicating he would love nothing more.

"No." Michael stood. "I will see to Gabriel. He will obey my commands. They all will."

"And if they don't?"

Michael fixed Raphael with a stern gaze. "Then I will do what I must."

Silence stretched between Dean and Castiel as they waited for Balthazar's arrival. Cas was like a statue, his back to Dean, hands at his sides. He watched the doorway intently. As for Dean, he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. He couldn't stop thinking about the contents of his evil twin's letter, or ignore the sense that he probably should tell him. However, it all became moot the instant they saw they weren't alone.

Balthazar appeared right where Dean expected him to, a look of disdain on his face as he looked past Castiel. "Still with us I see," he commented. "Cas, why don't you send your other Dean Winchester someplace else while we have a chat?"

"He is not going anywhere. Dean," Cas said in commanding tones.

Dean flashed a grin, lit the Zippo and threw it onto the floor. A ring of fire circled Balthazar. He took in the flames with an angry scowl. "How dare you," he hissed at Dean, who now stood beside Cas. "Release me at once."

"Not until we have discussed the location of Gabriel's horn," Castiel informed him gruffly.

Balthazar's gaze shifted to Cas. "What? So you can end the world? Didn't I already tell you how I felt about that?"

"Yeah, well, now things are different. Big brother's here for all of you," Dean put in smugly.

"I'm well aware of the situation, you talking monkey," Balthazar retorted. "I came up here to offer you a way out, Cassy. I've got some favors owed to me. Believe it or not, but I'm concerned about you."

"Concerned? You?" Dean scoffed. "Sorry if I don't buy it."

"Do I look like I care what you think?"

"Enough," Castiel commanded. He turned to Balthazar, spread his hands in a pleading gesture. "Help me. Bring me the horn. We have to put things to rights. It's the only way."

Balthazar's laugh was sharp. "No offense, Cas, but the last time you tried to put something to rights, you ended up working for the King of Hades. Don't get me started on the reason why you did it."

Dean saw Cas flinch from the slight and stepped forward. "He's got me helping him this time. So you either shut up and give us the horn, or we leave you here for Michael."

Balthazar scowled at Dean, then glanced over at Cas. His expression softened, just a bit. "You know what will happen when Gabriel uses the horn. It's not just going to be this place that gets destroyed."

A flash of regret shone in Cas's eyes. "I know what to expect. And it's as you said: the last time I tried this on my own, I made it worse," he added. "I could use your help, brother."

Silence passed. At last Balthazar nodded and sighed, as if assuring himself of something. "Well then," he murmured with a helpless smile. "Who am I to say no to that face? Very well, Cassy. I'm officially on your team. Not yours," he amended with a sharp look at Dean. "You- or at least, one aspect of you- got him into this mess in the first place. You bastard."

"Hey, man, whatever helps you sleep at night," Dean retorted with a disinterested shrug.

Cas lifted his hand. The flames died down. "Where is the horn?"

Balthazar stepped over the blackened ring with an audible sound of relief. He approached the sideboard to help himself to a drink. "Ah yes. The horn," he said, turning to face them, the glass at his lips. He appeared thoughtful for a moment. "I broke it."

Dean stared. "You what?"

"Broke it. Hey, I was protecting myself," Balthazar defended. "I wasn't exactly thrilled with a second Apocalypse, you know."

Castiel took the few steps that separated them and had Balthazar by the collar. He moved so swiftly even Balthazar was taken aback. "Where are the pieces?" he demanded in a low voice.

"Scattered them. I wasn't looking where I dropped them," Balthazar explained hastily.

Cas released him with a sound of disgust and turned to Dean. "We must get them. We don't have much time."

"Right, exactly, so if I were you I'd start hunting them down," Balthazar advised them with a little smile and vanished.

"Son of a bitch," Dean swore angrily. "Cas, how the hell are we supposed to find the horn?" he demanded.

"We must-" Cas paused at the sound of someone knocking. Before he knew it, Dean had been shoved into the closet, the door slamming shut in his face. As he peered through the slit in the door he smirked. What was it with him and closets in this place?

"Castiel?" ventured a male voice from the hall.

Cas opened the door, nodded to whoever was outside. "What is it?"

"Mr. Crowley sent me to tell you that you're expected to start work an hour earlier today."

Dean saw Cas's eyes narrow but he bowed his head, then closed the door. Dean had just emerged from the closet when the angel turned to him.

"I must get ready for my shift."

"Screw the shift, what about the horn?" Dean demanded irritably.

"Gabriel will have to seek it out. I will send you to him," he said, approaching Dean with his hand lifted.

He shied away. "Wait. I can't just leave you. I got a bad feeling about this. Why would Crowley make you start earlier?"

"I imagine it has something to do with Michael being here. I'll be fine, Dean," he assured him. "You have to get word to Gabriel and Sam."

Dean stared at Cas for some moments, wanting to stay with him- even though it'd be awkward as hell considering what he'd be doing- but knowing he needed to go over plans with Gabriel. "All right. But the minute things get weird you find me, got it? We can't screw this up."

The way Cas looked at him made Dean regret his choice of words. But the angel nodded his agreement and gently touched Dean's brow. The dressing room was instantly transformed to the area back stage. Dean took a moment to sort his thoughts before he started walking. Stage hands moved about, either oblivious to his passage or ignoring him completely. He was so focused on peering around every corner, into every doorway, that when he abruptly collided with someone it nearly knocked him over.

"Dean!"

Though there was relief in Sam's voice, it was the anxiousness in it that concerned him more. "Sam? What's wrong?"

It looked like Sam was having difficulty finding the words. His eyes flashed with anger, helplessness. "It's Gabriel," he answered thickly.

"What about him?" Dean searched Sam's face, didn't like what he saw. He frowned. "Hey, what happened? Where is he?"

Sam's hands clenched as he took in a deep, shuddering breath. "Come on. I'll show you."

Dean didn't like the sound of that one bit, but he nodded and fell into step behind his brother.

Sam took them through a doorway leading into a hallway. It was darker here, and far more cluttered. Rows of doors stood to either side, looked as if they had been abandoned for years save the one at the far end. Light shone from beneath it. Sam pushed his way in first. When Dean followed him he was checked by the sight that greeted him.

Gabriel sat on the floor, his head bowed, one arm draped over his middle. Blood streamed down the side of his head from the gash there. Worst of all, he could see bits of Gabriel's Grace shining from his gut wound. As Sam knelt down to start dabbing at the gash with a blood-soaked rag, Dean felt his stomach drop. If Gabriel was out of commission, their plan was not only screwed, but he was as good as stranded.

"What the hell happened to him?" he asked, stepping further inside and shutting the door.

"Michael," Sam explained in sharp tones. He tilted Gabriel's head back, gently, to get at the blood along his neck. "I saw him at the bar and wanted to talk to him, but Gabe stopped me. He told me to wait for him here. When he didn't come back right away I went looking for him. Found him outside like- like this."

Dean leaned in closer to get a better look at Gabriel's injuries. Damn, but Michael really did a number on the guy. "Is he...?"

"No, but he's not good either. He was barely conscious, Dean. I had to carry him here."

Anger now had a hold of Dean, and he punched the wall. "Dammit," he growled. He ran his hand down the length of his face. "We got a problem, Sammy. It's the horn."

"What about it?" Sam's face brightened for a moment. "Did Balthazar have it?"

"Yes and no," Dean answered, then proceeded to explain. At the story's conclusion he looked back at Gabriel and grunted. "Cas says he should be able to find the pieces, but now...shit, I don't know," he grumbled, sitting back on his haunches. For the first time since he arrived, he began to feel doubt creeping up on him. It settled around his heart, held in place there by the disastrous thought of never being able to get back home. Never seeing his brother or Castiel again.

"No, it's not too late, Dean. We can figure this out. That's what you always say, right?"

Dean's chuckle was bitter. "So tell me how we're supposed to hunt down who the hell knows how many pieces of an archangel's horn?" When Sam couldn't offer any suggestions Dean looked away. "Son of a bitch," he muttered. When he said it again, louder, he punched the wall a second time.

"All right, all right, I'm awake," sounded a weary but annoyed voice. As Dean glanced over to find Gabriel watching him sourly, Sam's face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Gabe!" he cried, a hand going to his shoulder.

Gabriel favored him with a small, assuring smile. "You think I'd check out on you like this?" he said, patting Sam's cheek roughly.

Sam laughed a little, then embraced him. As Dean watched them, took in the look of absolute relief on Gabriel's face, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd get the same from Castiel when he found him. Hell, just thinking about hugging the angel now brought on that same, aching feel he had come to associate with missing Castiel.

Sam finally drew back to continue tending to Gabriel's wounds. The archangel fixed Dean with a look that fairly said, 'Tell me everything.' When he had, Gabriel frowned.

"Balthazar broke my horn." He tutted. "Well, that's inconvenient."

The somewhat weak statement didn't match the urgency of the situation at all. "Inconvenient?" Dean echoed.

"A little. But don't worry too much, Dean," he assured him flippantly. "Sam here knows what will perk me right up," he said, giving a lecherous smile at his insinuation.

Dean rolled his eyes and stood. "I bet," he drawled. "I'll just wait outside. Sam?"

His brother had set the cloth aside and was assisting Gabriel to a dusty chair in the corner. "I got it, Dean. Just don't freak out at what you hear. It'll be all right."

If Dean needed any more encouragement to leave, then this was it. He gave a tight smile and quickly took his leave, shutting the door at his back. He paced, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. This latest wrench in the plan was doing nothing for his nerves. Between the deal with Crowley, Cas's call girl routine, the broken horn and its owner getting his ass kicked by Michael- not to mention what Sam was doing to 'perk' him up- it was any wonder it all hadn't come crashing down before this.

When Dean heard a grunt from the other room his first instinct was to walk away. But when he heard it again, this time followed by a pained cry, he raced to the door. At finding it barred he banged on it. "Sammy!" he cried, panicked. "Sam!"

There was a flash of light, forcing him to shield his eyes. When it receded he tried the door again, found it opened and stormed in. He took in the sight of Sam on one knee, his head tilted back, the pained grimace on his face and shot Gabriel a furious look.

"Whoa, there, relax," Gabriel assured him. He stood beside Sam, a hand on his shoulder. While Sam looked drained, Gabriel appeared perfectly fine. "Just got a little soul pick-me-up."

"A soul what?" Dean demanded.

"Angels can draw power from human souls," Sam explained in raspy tones. He winced as he rose to his feet. "Gabe's injuries needed to be healed so he could find the horn."

"Which is where I'm off to right now," Gabriel stated with a smile.

"Hold it," Dean said just as Gabriel went to walk away. "You just gonna leave Sam like this?"

"He'll be fine. He's a trooper. Besides, he's got big brother here watching over him," he added, slapping Dean on the back for emphasis. "Just try not to get into too much trouble while I'm gone." He looked past Dean to Sam, and something passed across his face. He looked like he wanted to say something else, then decided against it. He was gone with a snap of the fingers.

As soon as he vanished Sam bent at the waist, prompting Dean to run over to steady him. "Sammy?"

He exhaled slowly. "I'm fine," he assured him. "Come on. We should get you somewhere safe. It's almost time for the club to open."

Dean, not about to start any fireworks before they were ready, nodded his agreement. He followed Sam back toward the stage, not liking the unsteady way his brother walked one bit. They had just cleared the side entrance when a demon appeared in front of them, halting the brothers' pace. Sam prepared to go on the offensive, but Dean restrained him.

The demon smiled. "Mr. Crowley will see you," he stated.

As Dean stared at the demon he frowned. Of course Crowley needed him right now. This, on top of everything else that recently happened, drew the only appropriate response from Dean.

"Son of a bitch."

Unlike the other instances Castiel readied himself in anticipation for the start of a shift, his thoughts and feelings were focused, steady. Yes, the plan had experienced some bumps in the road, but his confidence in Gabriel's ability to recover the horn, as well as in Dean, hadn't affected his belief in its success. All he needed to do was get through the next few hours before he could officially close this chapter of his life. There was very little about it he could be proud of. Nor did he dwell on what the future held for him. His only concern was freeing Dean.

"So," said a voice that made him freeze. "This is what you have become."

Castiel's eyes went to the mirror running the length of the wall in front of him, saw Michael standing by the doorway. He drew himself up, even as his heart beat double time. He had not expected to see Michael- Dean- here.

Michael turned to idly pick through the bowl of gifts from clients. "You've fallen quite far, Castiel," he observed, disappointment evident in his voice. "There is much work for me to do to bring you back to Heaven's light."

Castiel turned to face him, glad that he had the full power of his Grace at his disposal. Otherwise he knew this unexpected meeting would have been disastrous. "Why are you doing this?"

Michael looked to him. "What?"

"Why did you wait this long to take an interest in what was happening here?"

"I needed time to mold Heaven to how our father always envisioned it. Now that it is done, I am looking to restore our family. I am weary of the in-fighting, Castiel," he admitted. "Lucifer's betrayal has left deep scars on us all. I want to help heal them."

"By help you mean forcing us," Castiel interpreted with a slight frown. "It won't work, Michael. We should be free to make our own choices."

Michael regarded him coolly. "It is my duty to ensure that we are a family again. That duty alone is all that's sparing you from the same punishment Lucifer endured for your transgressions."

The tone he used was the same as that day, so long ago. Cas couldn't keep from feeling a chill course through him. "I won't let you do it."

"You?" Michael gave a little disbelieving smile. "What makes you so certain of your ability to convince me? Ah, yes," he said. "You forget, Castiel. He's not here anymore. He has been gone since the day he surrendered himself to me. As you will soon learn."

"No." Cas's voice was rough. "Michael, wait-" But the archangel had already vanished.

Cas stared at the space he once occupied for some moments. He could feel sorrow and despair threatening to overtake him.

Was it true?

Was Dean really gone?

When Michael reappeared in a darkened hallway at floor level he was forced to lean against the wall for support. Going to Castiel had been a test, not only to gauge his fallen brother's strength but to ensure himself that Dean Winchester was truly gone. As he took in the trembling of his hand, the shortness of breath, he knew the latter was fast becoming a problem.

Don't you dare hurt him, you son of a bitch.

Michael looked up, seeing his own reflecting staring back at him. No, not his. Dean Winchester. Somehow, he had broken through the barriers Michael had created to show himself. The determination radiating from that part of his mind that belonged to Dean was a testament to the human's strength. Michael had no such respect for it now.

Not as strong as you thought, huh? Go on, you bastard- try and shut me up. I'll just come back. I'm not letting you win this time.

Michael glowered at his reflection, called upon his power. Within moments all that was Dean Winchester was gone from his face. Michael took a few minutes to collect himself, then started down the hall.

Once he had completed his task here, he would see to it that Dean Winchester's soul was removed from this vessel.

Permanently.