The truck grumbled and rumbled along with Dean as they scoured the town. His heart was pounding and his head was reeling. Castiel could be in danger, he could be kidnapped or killed. Whatever this thing wanted it had something to do with killing one or both of them. And Dean was itching to wring its goddamn neck for being so close to him for so long. But there was no sign of Cas anywhere. When it got to a point where he knew he was either hidden or long gone, he turned around, and drove back to the diner to meet Sam. There was nothing left to be done. He floored it on the way back. Sliding in beside the Impala, he parked the truck angrily. He shut it off and hopped out, fists clenched as the door banged shut, trudging inside. He picked out Sammy at the booth he'd been at with Cas. Then he slid under the radar of the other customers who may recognize him from his earlier outburst and sat across from his brother, leaning over the table and folding his arms on it.

"Cas is gone." He said shortly, when Sam looked up.

Blinking, Sam's lips formed a small 'O' before he lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "You were looking for him? Jesus, Dean." He looked ruffled, like he'd just gotten out of bed, but his eyes were bright with adrenaline and he'd buttoned every button on his shirt right.

Scrubbing his hair with his hands, Dean groaned softly, "I don't know, I… I screwed up, I should have talked to him first before I called you. But I was so focused on this damn thing. He was gone after I called you. He ran off." He looked at his brother desperately. "He's probably pissed as hell and on his own and I should have just stopped to think about him first." Biting his lip, he curled his fingers on the table. "What is it, what is this thing, Sammy?"

Sam's pitying eyes shifted to his laptop screen. "I didn't have much to go on. At this point, it could be any number of things. But we're probably looking at demon, shape shifter, or a ghost."

"That's a broad topic."

"That's all I got, Dean - all I know is the kid was mangled dead and he may have been dead as long as he's known you. That would make him a ghost. If he was kidnapped by a shape shifter and tied up, and escaped, there may be more than one shape shifter who killed him before he could blow their friends cover. And if it's a demon it's probably the same deal." Sam sighed and typed in frustration. "I can't narrow it down without more to go on."

Dean rubbed his face and the cold air of the diner chilled his fear to the bone. "We have to go look into this more. We need to go back to the college, check out the room, and ask around."

"What about Cas?"

"Wherever he is he's either hidden, or he's already in trouble. Either way, this is our best plan of action," Dean said grimly. "The closer we get to answers, the closer we'll get to Cas." They exchanged nods. "Let's go."

Getting up, Sam pushed his laptop into his bag and they left together, starting up their vehicles. As Sam slid out of the parking lot, Dean gave him a bit of a head start, feeling he needed to compose himself. The traffic plugged them up and shook them out, letting them loose on the long stretch back to campus without any other company. Dean loosened his foot on the gas petal and pulled back gently until he was out of the view of Sam's rear view. Then he rubbed his palm angrily against his eyes to clear them, refusing to crash on his way to find Cas.

This was why they had avoided attachments to people for so freakin long. People got put in danger; good, loving people that didn't deserve to get hurt. Now it was Cas. All because Dean had been too afraid to tell him the truth about his life. He'd wanted him to be safe. Well, the path to hell is paved with good intentions. And he was riding that highway now, preparing himself to find a body where his wished to God he'd find his lover.

They weren't halfway to the school when cars began to turn around and follow them. Since it was such an isolated back road, winding through farms and houses, it was very obvious that something was going on. No one going the opposite direction just squealed tires to swing back around. Dean flipped out his phone and called Sam, swallowing. When his brother picked up he glanced in his rear views. "I think those frat boys found us, Sammy. We're surrounded," he said in a low voice. "They're just after me. I'll take the back road, circle back. You investigate the room. I'll lead them off."

"Are you sure, Dean? Can you take all those guys?"

"I'll find something, don't worry about me. Just get to the bottom of this." Hanging up, Dean put on the brakes gently, picking a sharp corner and smoothing through it. He pressed his foot to the Gas pedal and slid over a concrete bridge, vanishing into another back road. Sure enough, three cars followed him as he rolled over the bumps in the asphalt. Of course, he knew he was screwed. He couldn't take all these guys, but he was gonna try. Damn right. Dean Winchester did not give up. He tried to pull ahead to get distance enough to turn around and ditch them as his only plan of action. He leaned on the gas and passed under a thick canopy of withering trees. Winter was coming, creeping along the grass and drying it out, and pushing the warm breeze out of the sky. As Dean flew around a corner the tall, brown weeds bent back, swaying madly.

They were gaining on him. He couldn't shake these assholes. Every corned was getting tighter, every mailbox closer. Suddenly, not far up ahead, it became clear something was in the road. "SHIT!" Dean yelled. He slammed on the brakes, drifting sideways, tires kissing the grass, and in a puddle of rainwater he came to a jarring stop in front of a blue El Camino. The rapid halt from such a high speed left his blood pin-pricking in his veins. His heart thundered. Peering out his window, he saw some kid on the car - on the hood. He had a sharp nose and blue eyes and spiked dirty blonde hair. Didn't look older than twenty one, arms folded behind his head, eyes on the sky. Dean stared at him. What was hell was he thinking? He could've just been killed – he was blocking the friggin' road!

The three cars pulled up close behind him. More guys climbed out, and Dean looked back at them. There was no way to get back. There were ditches on both sides of the road and cars in front and behind him. He was trapped like a damn rat. Slowly, he unbuckled his seatbelt and shut off the truck, kicking the keys under the brake pedal. Nothing to do now but make a stand. Climbing out of the truck, he shut the door and looked at the trio grinning at him, shifting his boots. "Got a problem here, boys?" He said with steel, the sky overhead opening a bit to let a drizzle drift over them.

A ghost of a chuckle echoed through them. One was older looking, his eyes pale blue, looking way too aloof and happy for himself. One had neatly combed blonde hair and glowing hazel eyes, his smirk dark. Another had dark skin and black eyes and a soul-sucking expression on his face.

Behind Dean, the kid on the El Camino shifted on the car hood. "No, we've got you pretty easy. Outmanned and outgunned." Dean turned to him, staring at his gangly form.

He was standing now, hands in his pockets, and had a dead look in his eyes and deadpan amusement on his face. Dead eyes glittered through the rain. Dean glanced at his license plate, and it said, 'Michael.' For the first time he was looking at the guy who had ordered the kill shot on him. Dirty converse were blood red against the blue of the car hood, his jeans black and thin, his pullover hoodie dark gray. A bright green shirt could be seen beneath it.

Michael bent his knees and dropped off the car, landing on the black road with a smirk on his lips. "I'd say we've got you handled."

"You haven't eventried yet," Dean smirked arrogantly. "I'd hate to disappoint."

"Oh." Michael nodded, eyebrows lifting gently. "I doubt you will. Raphael?"

Spinning on his heel, Dean's eyes widened. The dark skinned boy lunged. Dean deflected him, his body kicking into high gear. Swinging his arms to redirect the kid's furious punches Dean socked him in the jaw and sent him reeling, only to come sprinting back. Every hit was aimed precisely. Every deflection was rebounded. Dean's foot whipped out and caught Raphael behind the ankle, sending him rolling to the ground. The kid was so agile that he wasn't hurt very much but he had entirely lost his footing and his ground. When he lifted his head Dean send a round-house kick to his head and Raphael sprawled out, bloody and gasping. The rain was coming down harder now, mingling blood and water on the unforgiving ground.

Triumphant, Dean turned, panting, to the others. Rain pooled down his forehead and his nose, dripping off him gently. His fury and emotional instability were making him fierce. Both his hands screamed for blood. The darkness in his eyes and his shoulders made the other two guys back off with mounting fear. But with a sharp glance from Michael, they exchanged looks and ran at him full-on. Dean took the blonde by the collar and swung him off balance, swinging him a left hook in the face. The kid crumpled like a sack of potatoes.

"Gabriel!" The smug one's arrogance evaporated and morphed into anger. He grabbed Dean with ferocity and threw him to the ground. Eyes wide, Dean scrambled to get up, breaking the guy's stride as he rushed to get him again with a dive. It sent him crashing to the ground. As Dean got up, backing away, he gasped as a pair of arms arrested his own from behind, bending them painfully back. He cried out and hit one knee. A voice in his ear made him shiver.

"That's for my nose, pretty boy," Gabriel hissed. Raphael got shakily to his feet, nursing a head injury. Michael was watching with mounting amusement.

Dean grunted and groaned, pulling his entire body forward sharply so that Gabriel lost his grip. Then he spun and was about to kick him in the nuts when he was grabbed from behind yet again. The last guy lifted him up, and Gabriel was laughing. With much struggling and a lot of broken punches, they wrested Dean into zip-tie hand cuffs and knocked him out against Raphael's knee, throwing him carelessly in the trunk of the El Camino. Then they tore off down the road, vanishing and leaving the baby blue truck alone in the pouring rain.