"You gotta be kidding me."

Castiel did not look at Dean. His eyes remained on the building in front of him. Though there was really nothing terribly auspicious about the public library they stood in front of, Castiel knew that the building had been inexplicably changed forever by the single presence that existed within its walls. Dean shifted on the balls of his feet as he turned his gaze to from the building to Castiel. He was slightly confused as to why Michael would come to this place. Castiel had told him Gabriel and Sam were out to breakfast but that Michael was gone. Ten minutes later he told him that MIchael was at the public library. Dean couldn't help but feel as though Heaven's most badass warrior was jerking them around.

"Michael is inside," he said.

"Okay, great," Dean said, "lets go wrangle an Angel."

"Archangel," Castiel corrected automatically, "and not 'we', you," he looked at Dean.

"Me?" Dean looked at the Angel incredulously, "why me?" Castiel raised his eyebrows, "because Michael wants to talk to me," Castiel just continued to look at him, "alright, alright fine," he threw up his hands, "I'll go grab the overly dramatic, homicidal Angel."

He walked into the library.

It took Dean's eyes a moment to adjust to the dim interior of the library. It was small town joint, there couldn't be more than a thousand books in the place. Dean inhaled as he looked around the single room, divided only by books. He had always had a peculiar feeling about libraries. It was strange to think that almost any answer could be found somewhere in a book--usually a book concealed in places like this. It was unsettling as hell to think that there were answers hidden behind the spines pointing towards each other. Dean walked forward into the confines of the room, wincing as his boots echoed on the floor.

It did not take long to find the Archangel, certainly not as long as Dean would have liked. He found Michael sitting at an otherwise empty table, a single book open and in front of him. For a second Dean thought it was Jo, just for a second, just until reality slammed back into him. Dean walked next to him, his eyes moving across the page in front of him. The book was open to a single spread, on one page lay the description of the image, on the other the image itself. Dean looked at the picture and despite the anger he still felt, he couldn't help but smile at the irony of the image depicted there.

Michael defeating Lucifer.

Michael sat there, his eyes on the image. His hands were loose on either side of the book, nothing showing how the image actually affected him. Dean stood beside the Archangel. Part of him wanted to interrupt whatever the hell he was doing but for some reason Dean didn't talk. Breaking the silence in the library, it seemed wrong somehow. Though his eyes did not move from the image in front of him, Dean knew that Michael was aware of his presence. He also knew the Archangel couldn't pretend he didn't want Dean there, he had, after all, disappeared completely only to let Castiel know where he was. After another tense moment of silence, Michael spoke.

"I will remember that day," Michael said, "for all the years I exist, in all the forms I exist, that day I shall always remember."

"Yeah," Dean said looking at the Archangel, "if history remembered me looking that much like a chick I'd be pissed too," Michael glared at him, "and if I had to throw my brother out of Heaven--" Dean stopped, "what are you doing here? Aren't we on a time limit? Some kind of Apocalypse countdown?"

"Yes," Michael said, moving finally, seemingly becoming aware of himself as he closed the book and laid his hand on top of it, "our first priority must be the containment of Death."

"Yeah, big daddy Reaper," Dean said. Michael nodded, "well? How do we do that? How do we kill Death?"

"We cannot kill Death," Michael said. as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "merely contain him. Great violence releases Death, great violence removes him."

"No," Dean said. Michael gave him a look of disbelief, "I'm not putting more people in danger. There's gotta be another way."

"Your concern is touching," Michael said, "but we are past the point where a few lives are going to make a difference."

Dean looked at the Archangel in disbelief. He had known that MIchael was something of a 'for the grater good' kind of guy but if what he was saying was true then it was going to take a lot of people to put Death back where he belonged--too many people. Still the Archangel looked at him cooly, his gaze giving nothing away. It was unsettling as hell to see that, To see that coldness on Jo's face. Even when she was mad enough to show him how upset she was, Jo had never looked cold, certainly not as cold as Michael did staring back at him. Dean shifted against the hard surface of the chair as he looked at the cold, unapologetic look on Michael's face.

He missed Jo.

Things had gone from zero to sixty to fast that it hadn't struck Dean until he sat there that the blond girl had actually wormed her way into his heart. Not in some sappy chick flick kind of way but Dean realized that if she was alive somewhere in the world he probably wouldn't have minded running into her again. Even if her REO infatuation was kind of stupid, that smile she gave when she thought of the Hunters with their six packs and sides of Led Zeppelin was actually kind of cute. Dean gritted his teeth together. Now was not the time to be thinking about Jo's smile or how when REO came on the radio he would always think of her. It never seemed to be the right time but right now was probably the worst time of all.

"Look," he said finally, "we're just going to have to find another way. I'm not letting you throw innocent people to this guy to put him back in his box."

"You are a fool then," Michael said, "if Death does not return to his grave then they are as good as dead. Death will stop, but only when there are no more people roaming this Earth."

"Last time he missed a few," Dean snapped.

"Those were my Father's chosen," Michael snarled, "they had the help of God."

"Yeah, well, in case it escaped your notice God's not exactly here right now," Michael's nostrils flared as he stared at the Hunter, anger in his eyes but Dean barreled on, "so we have you. Now we gotta figure out a way to save a hell of a lot more than two people."

The rage fled so quickly from Michael's face it was alarming even to Dean. At the statement that God was missing, that Michael was the best thing they had, the hopelessness in his eyes was enough to make Dean freeze. The look was only there for a moment but in that moment it seemed as if Michael was more human and more broken than Dean thought he would ever be. the sadness in Michael's eyes was profound, as if he was little more than a lost child searching desperately for his father. The fingers that lay on the book, gripping the edges of it in a failed search for comfort. Just as quickly as it had come though, the look was gone and the face that looked back at him was one of nothing but confidence and self assurance. The hands that lay on the book relaxed, neatly withdrawing from its grip from the worn edges.

Slowly Michael got to his feet. It crossed Dean's mind to ask the Archangel if he was alright but the words couldn't seem to make it out of his mouth. Michael's hand lingered on the edge of the book, his fingers brushing against the surface as if the pads of his fingers could memorize the lines of the painting. His fingers pressed sharply into the surface then, anger ingrained in the gesture. He grabbed the book and turned around, placing it onto the book cart. He looked up at Dean, the coldness back in his eyes.

"Lets go," he said turning around and walking down the aisle.

Dean strode after the Archangel as they walked to the front of the library and out onto the steps. Michael stopped abruptly and Dean barely managed to keep himself from colliding with him. Before he could ask what was going on he saw the new figure standing with Sam, Gabriel and Castiel. Though he knew he had never seen the blond man before, he would recognize the look in his eyes anywhere. That coldness, tinged with the barest traces of guilt and indifference, it was unmistakable.

"Raphael," Dean looked over at Michael, "Michael?" the Archangel seemed almost to be trembling with rage.

The Archangel strode forward. Dean stepped forward but Michael was already halfway towards Raphael. Despite his claims of the Archangels wanting the same thing, of their weariness and decision to facilitate the Apocalypse, it was clear that Michael was anything but united with him. He was walking towards Raphael, intent echoing with every step. Gabriel's features were heavy with shock before jerked into motion and ran forward, running past Raphael to where Michael was moving towards Raphael.

"Dean stay there!" Casteil shouted.

"Michael--Michael no!" Gabriel shouted grabbing the Archangel's arm, "Michael!"

Michael turned, glaring at Gabriel but he made no move towards violence, as though unwilling to show any lack of control to Raphael. Gabriel held Michael's upper arm, his larger, masculine hand fitting easily around the fabric covered skin. Michael turned his head towards Gabriel, their eyes locking. Gabriel's jaw moved but he didn't speak, trying to communicate as best he could without words. That or trying to find the right ones. Michael tore his eyes from Gabriel's and looked at Raphael, Jo's features contorted in rage at the sight of the Archangel.

"Michael," Gabriel spoke, his voice low, "he says he's got news, from Heaven."

"He claims to have word from Heaven and you would believe him?" Michael demanded, his voice low and angry, "he who has committed the most grievous of crimes?"

"Michael please," Gabriel said, "we have bigger things to deal with. When the time comes, Raphael will stand trial for his crimes but if he has new from Heaven--"

"Why are you so anxious to hear what Heaven has to say all of a sudden?" Michael questioned.

"I'm not. But you are. We need to hear what he has to say."

For a second it seemed that Michael wasn't going to listen. That all he was going to do was beat the living crap out of Raphael, though he probably wasn't going to extend to him the same healing he extended to Gabriel. Gabriel didn't shy away from Michael. He remained there, his arm gripping Michael's as he searched his brother's face for any sign of what he was going to do. Finally Michael's gaze broke. Exhaling the Archangel stepped away from Gabriel and looked at Raphael. The Archangel looked up at him but there was the same deference in his eyes that had been in Castiel and Gabriel's eyes when they first were with Michael.

"I will hear what you have to say," Michael said, "but if so much as a word of it is a plea or an apology, I give you my word that there will be no trial for your crimes."

Raphael gave a short nod of understanding. Michael walked off, Raphael following him. Gabriel watched the two of them go but made no move to follow, remaining standing halfway between Sam and Castiel and Dean. Slowly he turned and walked up to Dean. Castiel nodded to Sam and the two walked over to where Dean was standing.

"You ain't joining the Angelic powwow?" Dean asked looking at Gabriel.

"Yeah," Gabriel said, tone heavy with sarcasm, "cause when we leave Thursday, Apocalypse Now and you alone great things happen," he clapped his hands together, "hope this doesn't take too long, I'm still hungry as hell!" the three of them gaped at him, "what? An Archangel can't say 'hell'? Geez, its just an expression."

Sam looked at the two Archangels standing far away and the one standing nearby. He frowned and looked at Castiel, Michael's words echoing in over and over in his mind. Raphael had helped to start the Apocalypse and while that was something Michael wasn't thrilled with, it seemed that he was too angry for it to simply be that. Even in the distance, Raphael was clearly unnerved by his superior and Michael still looked as though he wanted to destroy Raphael. But he was held back, by pride if nothing else. Sam realized that Michael didn't want to show any kind of weakness to the other Archangel. His loss of emotional control seemed to be something Gabriel alone was privy to.

"What crime did he commit?" Sam asked. Gabriel arched an eyebrow in his direction, "Michael said he committed a crime. What'd he do?"

"Angel's can't die," Gabriel said, "but they can Fall. Falling is the greatest punishment an Angel can be given. To be cast from Heaven, cast to Lucifer's realm," he let out a low whistle, "well Raphael did it," he looked at Castiel, "to Castiel. No permission, no nothing," he shook his head,"that'd be like someone executing someone without a court ruling. Its fucked up man and Raphael's gonna have some serious explaining to do."

"So because he banished Cas, he's in trouble?"

"Among other shit, yeah," Gabriel said. Dean looked at him, "what? Look I'm gonna have to stand for what I did too when Dad comes back. It goes with the territory of being an Angel."

"What about Cas?" Dean asked. Gabriel looked down.

"Dean," Castiel said, warning in his voice.

"No, what about Cas?" Dean demanded, "he rebelled. Is he going to be Banished to?"

"I don't know," Gabriel said looking up at him, "no-one knows. We're jumping the gun just a little bit don't you think? With, oh I don't know, Death running around. Lucifer doing a fucking irish jigg on the Earth's ass. So why don't we worry about being alive to stand trial and jump the next bridge when we come to it huh?"

Dean opened his mouth to ask more answers.

"Dean," Castiel said hotly. Dean looked at him, "leave it," Castiel said, the plea obvious in his eyes.

While he was touched by Dean's concern, by the protectiveness he saw in the elder Winchester's eyes, the fact was that he was speaking to Gabriel. The Archangel Gabriel. Even now when he was roaming on earth, disguised as a Trickster, Gabriel was a thousand times more powerful than Castiel knew he would ever be--more powerful than any other Angel save for Michael. But Dean, Dean just looked at him like he was another Angel they needed to beat the truth out of. Castiel was beginning to wonder if Dean Winchest might have not been born with a survival instinct. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Sam and the younger of the Winchester's looked anxious enough for the both of them. He looked down a

"Look I doubt anything too bad'll happen to any of us," Gabriel said, "if we're alive, if humanity is too, then I've got a feeling God's gonna be happy enough to be a bit lenient with us," he grinned a Dean, "besides, I figure if we mess up more, we'll just blame it on you."

"Nice," Dean said sarcastically.

"Yeah, I know, I'm a Saint," Gabriel flashed his trademark smile, "you can check."

Dean grumbled under his breath as he looked over at the two Archangels. Michael turned on his heel and strode back towards them, one hand angrily running through his hair. Raphael followed, clearly leaving a distinct space between himself and the Archangel. Given how Raphael had acted, Dean couldn't help but feel a savage sort of triumph at the guilt on his face. He looked at Michael and decided right there and then that the Archangel--while still a tool--had his moments. The two of them walked up to the rest of the group.

"Dean," Michael looked at him, "we need to speak," he glanced at the others "alone," he added. Dean nodded and he turned to Raphael, "inform them of the situation."

Raphael gave a curt nod as Dean walked over to the Archangel. Michael led him down the street, almost to the spot where he had been speaking to Raphael. Dean followed him but when the Archangel gave no sign of slowing down, he spoke.

"You know, I'm really making an effort to patch things up with Sammy and this whole singling out thing isn't helping--"

"I need to return to Heaven."

Dean's eyes widened at the words that had just left Michael's mouth. He needed to return to Heaven. He had been there for a little over a day and he needed to go back. Dean looked down at the skin of the Archangel's stomach. He could see the lines there, the scar from the Hell Hounds. In his head he could hear Jo's agonized cry as they tore her stomach apart until her insides were on the out. He could still remember the raw fear that had slammed into him, fear he usually only felt when his family was in trouble. Now the injury was just a scar. Nothing more. But Michael had said that Jo would die if he left. Dean grabbed the Archangel's arm.

"No way, no fucking way. You said that you'd heal her and she'd be safe," he looked at him, "you said she was too weak to have you go. What's so damn important that you've got to up and run now?"

Michael lowered his eyes.

"You better give me a reason and it'd better be a damn good one."

Michael let out a breath, looking away before he looked back at Dean.

"It has been a century since I was last in Heaven."

Dean stared at the Archangel. Gabriel had said that Michael had been absent but a hundred years? That was a hell of a lot longer than just 'absent'. He had assumed that with everyone jerking him left and right to get him to agree to be Michael's Vessel that Michael had been there, waiting for him. Michael had even said that he could have brought Dean to Heaven with a snap of his fingers. Dean realized that would have been pointless because even if he wound up in Heaven, Michael wouldn't have been there.

"That was why you didn't intervene," Dean said, realization slamming into him, "you thought that we'd pull some miracle out of our asses and you could be free to do whatever it is your doing. You miserable son of a--"

"I must return to Heaven. Raphael has informed me that the Angels are restless and rebellion is brewing. If I go to them, they will not rebel and they will not Fall."

"What were you doing?" Dean demanded.

"I told you that is none of your concern. I must go to Heaven and I will return as quickly as I am able to."

"Not good enough," Dean said.

"A rebellion in Heaven, the preventable chance that Lucifer will get hundreds--if not thousands--more soldiers and it is not good enough for you?" Michael spat.

"You gave me your word that she'd be fine."

"And she will be!" Michael shouted, "I do not trust Raphael but he is the best Healer. He will keep her alive until I return."

"No," Dean repeated.

"I am not asking for your permission or your opinions on the matter," Michael said, "as a sign of trust I am merely keeping you informed of the situation at hand."

"You said she would die," Dean said, his voice oddly gruff, "you said--"

"And without Raphael's help she will," he said.

"So I'm just supposed to trust the Archangel who smoked Cas to take care of Jo?" he demanded.

"You are supposed to trust me," Michael said, "and believe me when i tell you that Gabriel will make sure that Raphael does nothing to harm my vessel."

"Trust you?" Dean repeated, "you're asking me to trust you. Sorry, man, but you've given me no reason to do that. A day isn't enough to make up for half the crap you've put me and Sam through. You want my trust you'd better give me a damn reason to trust you," he looked at the Archangel, "why were you missing from Heaven?"

"I was looking," Michael said after a moment.

"So you were looking for God," Dean said, deciding that seemed like a valid point. Even if it was one that made a bit too much sense to him, "fin--"

"I suppose you would think I was looking for God," Michael said, "and, of course, that was part of what I was looking for," he sighed and shook his head, seemingly amused at something Dean couldn't quite understand, "but no, I am afraid even I am not Noble enough to spend a hundred years searching for God."

When their eyes met, the sadness in Michael's was back, that terrible sadness that Dean had seen when he had looked at the book, at the picture of him banishing Lucifer to the depths of Hell. Dean stared into the sadness, into the self loathing and the hate, into the eyes of a man who had never forgiven himself, even if the world was a better place for what he had done. Somewhere deep inside Dean felt surprised at the look in his eyes before he realized that he understood. On some level Dean knew exactly what Michael was feeling. Still, the words were a surprise when they came from the Archangel's lips.

"I have spent the past century--and all the centuries before that I suppose--looking for a way to save my brother."

Dean's eyes widened, his mouth opening to say something--to say anything to the Archangel but before he could, Michael looked to the heavens. That was all the warning Dean got before Jo's eyes rolled up and she collapsed against him. Dean lunged forward, barely managing to catch her limp form in his arms. For a moment he was paralyzed as he stared at her. For a moment her chest did not rise, for a moment her heart did not beat. For a moment it seemed as if the world had truly stopped. Dean held his breath as he stared down at the features, half hidden by Jo's hair, waiting desperately for some sign that she was alive. Michael had sworn, he had said that she would stay alive, but if she hadn't survived his departure, how could she possibly be healed by Raphael? Dean's fingers tightened on her shoulders as he waited, desperately hoping against all logic that she hadn't been killed on the spot.

"Come on," he hissed, trying not to think of her agonized scream or the way her eyes had looked at him as he drew back from the kiss, "Jo--"

A groan reached his ear.

It was barely audible, made with a throat still healing from being cut, but he heard it none the less. Her chest rose. He felt her heartbeat, though everything told him the two were anything but steady. Still Dean could count on one hand the number of times relief had been so overwhelming. His head flew up as he looked at the others, still standing outside the library. Dean looked down at Jo. Her features remained serene but Dean knew that wasn't going to last forever--not if he could help it anyway. Hooking an arm under her legs, Dean hoisted the girl into his arms. Her head lolled against his shoulder, her entire body limp. It was unsettling as hell but Dean ignored it.

"Hang on," he said, though he knew she couldn't hear him, "just--" he started to walk, as fast as he could, "hang on."

And Jo's back!

Thank you for all the wonderful compliments on Michael's character. I had a clear picture of how I wanted to do him and I'm glad you're enjoying him! For those who don't want Jo in the story, she IS going to be in here. I shipped Dean/Jo before the whole Angel thing and this story is definitely about the two of them.

For those curious about Angel lore, I'm combining what I know and what Supernatural has established. Raphael is the Archangel of Healing. Also for those asking, yes other Archangels are going to be making their appearances but Michael and Gabriel are our two main ones, Michael for the story and Gabriel because he's so freakin awesome I can't resist. Also the 7 Demon Lords will be involved.

Please review! A whole bunch of you have been faving and alerting which makes me feel all warm and cuddly but I love review so so much.

So please review!

And have a Happy Thanksgiving!