As "Dr. John Smith" led them through the striking golden forms, Dean noticed the buzz in his ears intensify; it felt like his head was being pounded. He squinted, trying to ignore it, turning his attention to the surrounding angels. He could look upon their forms more clearly now, though it made his eyes tingle. Their outlines were unstable and in constant motion, reminding him of flames, and they glowed like they should be warm yet Dean couldn't feel any heat from them.

Each angel was twice the size of him and many of them had some resemblance of wings arching from their backs. Some of them also had extra features like wings that dissolved into hundreds of hissing fiery snakes as they passed or they would become more solid, leaving white lightning streaks flashing across their surfaces as they puffed themselves up, almost like they were trying to impress.

Dean smirked at Cas, obviously seeing a free angel in their midst was having an effect.

"How come my eyes aren't burning up?" Dean whispered, still wary of their guide. Cas looked to Dean suddenly, as if caught red-handed. He shook his head.

"I'm not sure, but their forms are much weaker than most angels. As I once told you, my true form is the size of the Chrysler Building, yet they are almost diminished to the size of a vessel. Their power will also have been reduced." Dean glanced back at their towering forms and noticed sparks leaving them, like embers from a fire. When he faced Cas again, he was eyeing the angels suspiciously to Dean's surprise.

"Our presence is having a reaction. They are talking about us." Cas looked at Dean pointedly, "about you."

"What's there to say about me?"

"You're a vessel and Michaels vessel at that, you're pretty interesting to Lucifers followers."

Dean blanched, swallowing hard. Maybe Cas wasn't the only one having an effect. "There's nothing they can do though, they're all chained up.

"I wouldn't say they're completely powerless." Castiel disagreed.

"He's right." John chimed in from in front, so much for whispering. "For one, they're pretty powerful, powerful enough to power this city."

"What?" Dean interrupted before he could go on.

John sighed; it had a faint 'why are you so stupid?' feel to it. Dean bristled.

"You've seen the City at least from a distance I presume, it's practically civilised and that's down to the angels and their grace. Grace is a brilliant and genius thing, if harnessed correctly it could make a simple species into Gods." John paused, pulling out a stone vial from his jacket. He chose an angel nearby, and held it next to their form. A wisp of grace fell away to fill the vessel, John bottled it up, his expression surprisingly reverent. "Did you know Grace is naturally always seeking a vessel? I wonder about that sometimes." John cast a strange look at Cas, but Cas didn't react, he looked tired.

John sighed, placing the Grace safely in his pocket. "Of course, down here we don't have the means to do very much at all. This place is distorted, not concrete. The angels seem to correct that slightly, making the Swamp City the safest and most comfortable of places to stay but even they cannot do much. The sky stays without stars or colour, time cannot be measured, and even death is not law. Most things here stay in the phase of dying, the trees, the people, even the Swamp, but nothing dies permanently or even at all."

"Know the feeling." Dean chuckled.

John glared at him. Dean looked away, coughing awkwardly.

"I use the little bit of grace I can and I give a semblance of our home dimension. I create lights, electricity and if you ask nice I will even plant them and not long after a living tree will grow. Unfortunately they don't last too long." The Master shrugged, his energetic behaviour fading as they moved on.

"And in return?" Madison asked.

"I get what I want, and they leave me alone."

"And what do you want?" Dean probed. He glanced worriedly at Cas, he was slowing and his eyes were squinted as if he were struggling to keep them open. "You okay?" He nudged him. Cas nodded, "Sorry." Dean frowned, moving to stay closer to Cas.

"I don't want much; you seem to have decided for yourselves I am a villainous creature." John raised an eyebrow at them.

"You can never be too careful, sir." Madison smiled sharply.

"Hmmm, if you must know, all I want is to get out of here. I don't belong here. My species are not monsters and by extension, I do not believe myself to be one. I had no choice in my fate, and I plan to change that." John turned away from them, looking up.

Dean was tempted to ask more, but as he followed his gaze, he forgot what he was going to say.

"Who the hell is that?" One angel towered over the others despite the fact it looked like it was sitting. Its head was huge, two eyes glowed an unnatural blue beneath a blazing cross embedded in its forehead. Colossal horns curled from its temples and Dean shivered as he felt the angels attention fix on him. His gaze slid from its face and to its wings. They were like nothing he had ever seen, they looked like shattered crystal and they hung in the air in the shape of magnificent wings, glowing a dim blue. Its chest was vaguely skeletal with a throbbing, golden centre. It hurt to look at it and Dean had to lower his stare. Below that, the angel seemed to dissolve into a mist that rolled throughout the angel ranks. Dean realized he was standing in it.

"She is my favourite. I call her Lucy after my wife. She's less like the others." John smiled at her, bowing his head in respect in her direction.

"They've stopped." Cas murmured, he was leaning on Dean now. Dean held onto him tightly, his arm round his waist. But despite his obvious exhaustion, Cas was right, in her presence the buzzing had stopped.

"They're not screaming." Madison was looking at Cas, agreeing with him.

"Yes. They are stronger and prouder here. On my lonelier nights, I've even been able to communicate with her." John nodded, his smile snagged up in pride.

Cas looked at him sharply at that, "how?" He shook his head, trying to stand up but he just fell back against Dean. There was something wrong.

"Just like this. Talk long enough and about something interesting, and she'll respond." Dean wandered closer, keeping Cas close. He studied the chains holding her; they looked particularly strong and were laced in enochian wards.

"Do you know her, Cas?" Dean asked. Cas shook his head, not even bothering to have a second look, his eyes were closed.

"My head is too heavy, I cannot think properly." He mumbled quietly. Dean was practically holding him up by himself now.

"Can we sit for a minute, John?" Dean didn't wait for an answer, Cas was slipping from his grasp. He placed him down as gently as he could, kneeling next to him.

"Something's wrong with him…" Dean anxiously caught Madisons attention. Her eyes widened in panic, she fell to her knees beside him.

"Castiel! What do you need? I will find anything you need." She brushed his hair away and put her hand against his forehead. Dean didn't like how pale he was looking.

"He's cold, I can barely sense any warmth in him at all." Madisons voice wavered, she took a deep breath through her nose. She whimpered at the smell. "He's fading…" She growled at Dean as if it was down to him.

"What's happening?" Dean snarled, moving to his feet. His vision focused on John and he wanted to hurt him. If something happened to Cas…

"I don't know! I've never had an angel in flesh visit before," John said defiantly. Dean was close now, close enough to do some damage.

"You better start thinking because I'm not losing him," Dean said, his teeth clenched. John held up his hands, grimacing. He sighed and walked toward 'Lucy'.

"My most glorious one, our visitor is experiencing a life or death situation. With powers as mighty as yours I wonder if you would help him. I'm sure he would be willing to help you in turn." The doctor bowed, and remained in position until he sensed the angel move. Its head adjusted and Dean felt its full gaze land on him. He took a step back, feeling its force on him. He strained to look up but he could not meet its gaze, instead he was forced to bow his head.

"Please help Cas." He felt the force intensify and his back ache as he bowed further. He grunted. "I will offer you my services in return." He felt dirty as the words left him but they had the desired effect and he could stand straight once more.

He looked up just as the grace flowing along the ground lit up, revealing thousands of tiny golden streams of grace. Where Cas lay, the grace was a scorching white.

"Close your eyes!" Dean shouted, figuring out what was about to happen. His eyelids burned red as the world briefly vanished in light, he lifted his arm to shield his eyes further.

"Cas! Madison!" He screamed as he felt the light go. He was running even before he opened his eyes. Madison was holding him up against her, and Cas turned to face him as he came running towards them.

"What just happened?" His puzzled tone drew a bizarre grin from Dean and he couldn't help himself as he grabbed him for a hug. He squeezed tightly, letting it last an extra second. Cas was warm again, and he held on just as hard.

"I don't know but next time you decide to nap, tell us." Dean let go, his attention turning back to the horned angel and John.

"What happens now?" Dean asked.

"Nothing yet. Lucy has no need to withdraw her favour now." John shrugged, but Dean felt John's smile linger a little too long on him. He got the idea he'd done something pretty stupid.

"What even happened here?" Dean stood up, striding up to John but John didn't back off. He seemed too confident all of a sudden.

"I told you I don't know." His eyes flashed mischieviously.

"And yet I don't believe you." Dean growled, he pulled John's hoodie into his fist, lifting him onto his toes.

"Dean. It wasn't his fault." Cas glared at him, and Dean, after a moments deliberation, put John down. John fixed his hoodie back into position, grinning in that arrogant manner he had.

"The angels share grace here, that's why her grace spreads throughout the ranks. She offers her strength to them and distributes grace where there is weakness. My grace is much stronger than any here and she just did what she's always done. It's all back though." Cas shrugged, in fact his tone was too admiring for Dean's liking.

"Shouldn't she have recognised you for what you are? Not part of Lucifers pop band."

"Her grace is spread thinly, it is much to process." Cas defended, Dean couldn't believe it.

"Are you her biggest groupie now or what?" Dean hissed. Cas tried not to show his difficulty with the vocabulary but Dean could see it anyway. "Fan, admirer, butt-kisser." He explained.

"No, but I appreciate her ability as a general. She still fends for her brothers and sisters even now. A quality you should empathise with." Cas said pointedly. Dean couldn't defend that. He gave up.

"Fine, let's just get out of here. It's starting to give me the creeps." He could feel her watching him. He didn't want to think of the favour he owed her.

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The side mirrors burn surprisingly well. Bet you didn't see that coming.

"Goddamnit, Crowley!" Sam exclaimed, he just about restrained himself from crumpling the phone in his fist.

Sherlock looked up from where he was throwing more knives in the wall. He didn't bother asking a stupid question.

Sam answered his look. "Crowley is destroying the Impala piece by piece. The sooner we come out of hiding, the more Impala we get back." Sam threw the phone at Sherlock when he started laughing.

"Is that all they have?" Sherlock was almost in hysterics, it was a disturbing sound though, not comforting. They weren't much closer to figuring out how to get John out alive.

"It's alright for you. That's my brothers baby being tortured, and I'm the one who left her there." Sam moaned, just imagining Deans face when he got back. He would be heartbroken and angry, so very angry.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes then shook his head, unable to grasp the concept. He then threw his last knife in the centre of his shape. It was a heart.

"I've got an idea."

…

"This plan relies on a lot of assumptions, Sherlock, both of us will be risking our lives. You, even more than me." Sam shook his head, his eyebrows knitting together and his forehead wrinkling up in a way it shouldn't at his age.

"That's our job description, isn't it?" Sherlock stretched his arms behind him, pulling on his coat. It wasn't time yet but it felt good to be ready. Sam's expression hadn't changed when he looked back up. "Besides we don't have any better alternatives."

"Moriarty will eat you alive." Sam held Sherlock's stare.

"Give him some credit; he will do something much worse."

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