"Well, I don't know what to tell you, Sam. I've been keeping my eyes peeled, and I haven't seen anything to indicate the other Horsemen are active."

Sam ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh, pacing in front of the motel window with the phone pressed to his ear. "I figured it was a long shot. It's not like we didn't have famine, pestilence, and death before. It's hard to tell what's supernatural and what isn't."

Bobby made a grunting noise, like maybe he was getting out of a chair. "Not to mention, War didn't do anything globally. He just made a nightmare for a small town. It could be that these other Horsemen are flying under the radar the same way." He let out a sigh. "If what Feathers told us is true, these Horsemen aren't the ones from the Bible. They're similar, but there's some differences."

Sam scanned the motel parking lot, expecting Dean and Liam to be back from their haircuts any minute. "Well, it's not like the Bible mentions anything about rings, either. Have you had any luck finding other lore?"

"Not yet, but I'm looking." Bobby paused, and when he spoke again, there was a faint note of concern in his voice. "I thought you were taking a break from hunting."

Sam let out a heavy sigh, resting his forehead on the glass. "Yeah, well… I'd be able to sleep a lot better if I knew what Lucifer was up to, so… it looks like, for now, we're back on the hunting path."

Bobby hummed on the other end of the line. "He hasn't revealed anything, huh?"

Sam shook his head wearily, and he knew his fatigue was more than skin-deep. "He just keeps telling me he's going to find me. And Dean. And Liam. Tells me he's getting close, that he's just a town or two away. Then I wake up Dean and Liam, and we drive until I feel like I can breathe again." He stopped, pulled away from the window, and snorted at his own bleeding heart. "Sorry. Didn't mean to spill my guts all over you."

"Don't apologize." Bobby paused again, and it sounded like he might have been taking a drink. "Have you been able to do anything to keep him out of your head?"

Sam pushed away from the window and started pacing the floor. "No. Castiel tried some different wards and sigils, but none of them have worked." He sighed. "He did manage to make us some charms that burn hot in the presence of an angel, so that gives us a little advantage on that front." He paused, just barely resisting the urge to sigh again. "You know, you don't have to help us, Bobby. You're taking a big risk."

"It's a risk worth taking," Bobby replied simply.

Sam felt a warmth in his chest, but it was overpowered by worry. "Do you have Enochian sigils on your ribs like we do?"

"Yup." It sounded like Bobby took another drink. "Don't waste your time worrying about me. I can handle myself, boy."

"I know you can." Sam smiled softly, even though Bobby's words couldn't quite suppress the anxiety he felt. "Thanks, Bobby. For everything."

"Uh-huh." Bobby paused. "I'll keep researching the Horsemen, and I'll keep my eyes out for any kind of spell that could protect your mind."

"Okay. We're finishing up at—" he almost said 'Indianapolis,' but he caught himself at the last second, "—at our home base, and then we're gonna hit the road and see if we can find some demons to interrogate." Sam stopped pacing and looked out the window again. "We'll keep in touch."

"You better," Bobby said gruffly, and then the line went dead.

Sam smiled to himself and hung up the phone, sliding it into his back pocket. He looked away from the window again and put his attention on the motel room, scanning the beds and dresser and trying to figure out if he had forgotten to pack anything.

I got our clothes… toiletries… Liam's schoolbooks… Dad's journal… weapons… He moved around the room as he went over the mental list, lifting the sheets and pillows to make sure nothing had gotten tangled in the unmade beds. Coloring books and markers… Liam's blanket… He opened the dresser drawers one by one, and then he leaned into the bathroom and took a quick look around. I think I got it all.

Sam turned around and left the bathroom behind, walking back over to the window and looking out. He thought about texting Dean, but they hadn't been gone for suspicious amount of time yet, so he decided against it.

We have to find a way to end this. I don't know how much longer I can—

Sam's thoughts were cut short by his ringtone, and he assumed Bobby had forgotten something, so he answered without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Balthazar and I have finished making the necessary arrangements." It was not Bobby. It was Castiel, and in true Castiel fashion, he got right to the point. "We are going to infiltrate Heaven and look for resources that will help us find Gabriel."

Sam blinked, caught off-guard by the statement. "Uh—" He shook his head. "Right. Okay. Um, is there anything we can do to help?"

"No." Castiel paused briefly, and when he spoke again, there was something Sam couldn't identify in the usually monotonous voice. "I am going to call you again within the next twenty-four hours. If I don't, it means we were captured or killed."

"Okay." Sam rubbed the back of his neck. "Are you sure you should be doing this?"

"We have no choice," Castiel replied simply. "We must find Gabriel."

Sam nodded, not really knowing what to say. "Yeah. I guess we must."

"Could you…?" Castiel trailed off, his voice sounding somewhat tight. "If something were to happen to me, could you tell Liam that I care for him very much?"

Sam pressed his lips together, and much like when he had been talking with Bobby, he felt worry coiling in the pit of his stomach. "Come back alive and tell him yourself."

"I—" Castiel sighed. "Yes. Of course. But if I don't come back, will you tell him?"

"He already knows how you feel about him, Castiel." Sam took a breath, intending to continue his point, but then he let out a sigh. "Of course I'll tell him."

Castiel let out a breath, like he had honestly thought Sam would say no. "Thank you, Sam."

Sam reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, you're welcome." He paused, looking out the window but still not seeing any sign of his family. "We're at our home base right now, but we're leaving today, and we're going to start hunting demons."

"Is that safe?" Castiel questioned, back to his more business-like voice.

"I don't know, but we've got to find out what Lucifer is up to." Sam turned away from the window, taking a few steps before turning around and walking back. "I don't suppose you can offer any help while you're handling the Gabriel front."

"Perhaps." Castiel paused, humming softly. "Well, I can gather some angel blades while I'm in Heaven and deliver them to you."

Sam frowned slightly. "But… wouldn't that kill the host body, like Ruby's knife?"

"You may not have a choice, Sam." Castiel didn't exactly sound sympathetic. "If you exorcise the demons, they will return to Hell, and they will tell Lucifer what you have been up to. You can't afford that."

Sam furrowed his brow and turned away from the window again. "That's exactly the kind of thinking that led to Liam being kidnapped."

"Yes." Castiel didn't even try to deny it. "And now it is exactly the kind of thinking that will keep Liam alive and safe."

Sam shook his head and opened his mouth, but he didn't know what to say.

"Sam." Castiel sighed heavily, and when his voice came back, he sounded much more sympathetic. "Our situation is not ideal. I know that. And I know that it isn't fair. But whether you like it or not, you are a soldier now, and that may mean that the times are coming when you will have to do things you don't agree with."

Sam stammered at first, his instincts still trying to fight the idea Castiel was presenting, but then he began to relent. "I know." He sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I know, I just…" He sighed again and chose not to continue. Castiel wasn't exactly the person he wanted to share his feelings with.

"I know. You and Dean are not me, and I don't want you to be. I just want you to be prepared for what you might have to do."

Sam opened his mouth, trying to think of what to say to that when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face the window and saw the Impala pull into the parking lot, both Liam and Dean looking like they were rocking out to whatever was on the radio.

"Dean and Liam just got back," Sam said, grateful for the available change in topic. "Do you want to talk to them?"

"No." Castiel spoke a bit too quickly. "I think it would be better if I kept my distance."

"That's not gonna do Liam any good." Sam felt a twinge in his chest, as he always did when he tried to encourage Liam's relationship with Castiel. "He loves you. You should talk to him."

"We do talk. We text very frequently," Castiel said, his voice dismissive.

Sam pressed his lips together in a thin line, but he decided not to argue. "I'm not going to twist your arm. I was just putting it out there." He paused, letting out a soft sigh. "It's good that you text a lot. I just… he hasn't seen you in a while, and…" He shook his head. "Never mind. It was just a suggestion."

Castiel didn't say anything right away, and when he did speak, his voice was halting. "I will… come and visit after we get back from Heaven. When I bring you the angel blades, I'll… stay for a while."

"Okay." Sam watched Dean and Liam get out of the Impala and head toward the motel. "Good luck, Castiel. I'll be waiting for your call."

"Thank you. I'll be in touch."

The line went dead, and Sam pulled the phone from his ear, staring down at the device for a few moments before shoving it into his pocket. Here's hoping they find something. If they don't—

Sam shook off the thought before it could go anywhere. He didn't want to be dragged down into the 'what-ifs' of their situation, especially when Liam's very adept eyes were about to be on him. He had to keep it together.

The door to the room swung inward, and a rather theatrical Dean shouted, "We have returned!"

"I can see that," Sam laughed, crossing the room to tousle Liam's hair. "You're lookin' good." Not that either of them had really changed their styles; they just shortened it and cleaned it up a bit. "Do you like it?"

Liam gave a slight nod, seeming unsure of how to interact, which was par for the course lately. Ever since Sam had suggested taking Liam back to the group home, things had been awkward and forced. They had talked many times, and Liam seemed to understand where Sam was coming from, but still, the tension remained. Sam didn't know what else he was supposed to do to smooth things over, and he had resigned himself to just waiting.

"We heading out?" Dean asked, walking over to the bags Sam had packed.

"Yeah." Sam grabbed one of the duffel bags. "I found some demonic activity to the east, and I thought we could stop there on our way to Pennsylvania."

"Pennsylvania?" Dean asked, grabbing the other duffel bag.

"Yeah." Sam gestured toward Liam. "We need to get him evaluated for school, and then we'll need to buy new books for the coming school year, and that place in Pennsylvania is a good place to start."

Dean nodded and grabbed Liam's backpack. "Got it." He handed it out for Liam to take. "Here you go, bud."

Liam grabbed the bag and slung it over one shoulder. "Did we get everything?"

Sam nodded, grabbing the last duffel bag. "I triple-checked. We're good to go." He turned to Dean and held out the bag. "I'll trade you. Give me the key, and I'll check us out."

Dean grabbed the bag with the hand that was already holding one, and then he handed over the room key. "Cool. We'll be in the car."

Sam nodded and watched as Dean and Liam headed out the door, leaving it open for Sam. He stared at the empty space, his thoughts sinking down into darkness for a moment.

No. Sam shook himself and walked out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him. I have to focus on the good. We're staying safe, we're doing what we need to do, and we're going to win this.

Sam tried to stay focused on the positive thoughts as he checked out of the motel, and by the time he was getting in the passenger seat of the Impala, he actually felt a little encouraged. His only concern was whether his optimism had strands of realism in it, too.

"So, did you get anything from Bobby?" Dean asked, turning the keys in the ignition.

Sam shook his head, putting on his seatbelt. "He's hitting dead ends as much as we are." He turned slightly in his seat so he could see both Liam and Dean. "Castiel and Balthazar are going to Heaven to look for some materials."

Liam tensed up at that, but he didn't voice his thoughts. He just pulled his sketchbook out of his backpack and opened it to a drawing of a sunset in a field.

Sam glanced at Dean, but Dean was focused on pulling the car out of the parking space, and then Sam looked back at Liam. "Do you feel ready for your evaluation?"

Liam shrugged without a word, pulling a pencil case from his bag.

"Is there… something in particular you're worried about?" Sam asked, watching as Liam grabbed a pencil and put the tip to the page.

Liam shrugged again. "Dunno." He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and stared at his unmoving pencil.

Sam didn't say anything right away, waiting to see if Liam would expand on his thought, but after about thirty seconds, Sam pressed again. "I know it's been a rough year. It was our first time homeschooling, and with all the drama going on, we weren't exactly doing school every day." Sam wet his lips, watching Liam's face for any clues that might tell him what Liam was worried about. "Then, of course, you got kidnapped by the angels, and you weren't doing school then."

Liam nodded, still staring down at his pencil without moving it.

"But we did a good job of catching up, and you've been doing really well. I don't think you have anything to worry about." Sam glanced at Dean again, but then put his attention back on Liam. "Are you just nervous?"

Liam sucked in a breath and set his pencil aside, mumbling something under his breath.

"Hmm?" Sam leaned a little closer, inclining his ear toward Liam.

Liam took another breath and let it out, staring down at his lap. "I'm not smart," he muttered, his voice thick with unshed tears.

"Woah, woah, woah." Dean shook his head, looking in the rearview mirror. "Who told you that?"

Liam shrugged, once again silent.

"Liam." Sam reached out and put his hand on Liam's knee, giving it a squeeze. "First of all, you are very smart. Second of all, you don't have to get straight As to pass an evaluation. We just have to prove that an education is taking place, and it is." He squeezed Liam's knee again. "Third of all, you do well in school. I know you really struggle with math, but you're not a bad student."

Liam didn't say anything right away, his gaze still on the sketchbook in his lap. He slowly inhaled, sparing the briefest glance at Sam before looking down again. "I guess so."

Sam pressed his lips together, wishing he could catch Liam's eye. "What can I do to help you feel like you're smart?"

Liam shrugged. "I…" He looked up at Sam and then looked away again, embarrassment crossing his features. "I don't know if you can." He shifted in his seat. "I… I guess… just keep telling me I'm…" He trailed off, like he couldn't bring himself to even say the word 'smart' when talking about himself.

Briefly, Sam wondered who or what had made Liam's brain work that way, but he didn't let his thoughts linger there long. "Okay." He squeezed Liam's knee again. "Dean and I can keep reminding you how smart you are."

Liam flashed a tiny, weak, unconvincing smile, and then he reached out, grabbing Sam's hand from his knee. "Thanks." He squeezed it and then let it go, picking up his pencil again.

"Sure." Sam withdrew his hand and turned in his seat, facing forward. "You are smart, Liam. It's no trouble for Dean and me to tell you something we both know to be true."

Offering a little nod, Liam started to draw in his book, saying nothing.

Sam looked at Dean, who looked away from the road long enough for Sam to see the anger in his eyes. Sam silently shut him down, knowing that the anger Dean felt for the way Liam was raised wouldn't do anybody any good.

Dean shook his head, but he listened to Sam and kept his cool. He put his eyes back on the road, and, after a second of awkward silence, he turned the radio on.

Sam looked out his window, feeling a heaviness in his chest. It's not just that he thinks he's not smart. He doesn't think he's worth anything. And I made him feel like he doesn't belong when I suggested taking him back to the group home. Sam reached up and massaged the bridge of his nose. I have to make this right.

Sam stared out the window, trying to keep his mind from barreling down any one of the many tracks it was inclined to go. He was worried about Liam, first and foremost, but he was also worried about Heaven and Hell and what their plans were. He was worried about Castiel and Balthazar; both about their safety and about whether they would be able to find Gabriel. Every single day, Sam felt like he was drowning, and he had no idea what to do about it other than to push it down and do something that felt like maybe, possibly, he was moving forward.

Sam almost sighed, but he caught himself at the last second. He didn't want Dean to question him, and he didn't want Liam to worry.

We have to figure something out. Sam leaned against the door, still staring endlessly out the window. Something. Anything.

Castiel adjusted his grip on his bloodied angel blade and pressed his back to the wall, leaning just enough to poke his head around the corner. He found the corridor empty, and he turned his head to look at Balthazar, giving him a nod. Both angels crept around the corner and started running, surrounded by an unearthly shade of white.

It should be just up here. Castiel kept his breathing quiet, blue eyes scanning the walls and floor for any sign of a trap.

Balthazar was just as silent, keeping his own angel blade close to his chest as they ran.

They got halfway down the hall and came to a stop outside glass double doors. Castiel put his hand to the sensor on the wall, his palm glowing with the exertion of his Grace, and the lock slid out of place.

Castiel grabbed the door on the right and tugged it open, slipping into the room and coming to a stop just inside.

Balthazar stopped right beside him, putting his hands on his hips. "Well." He looked around at the massive, seemingly endless bookshelves. "I don't suppose you have any idea where to start," he whispered.

Castiel nodded, gesturing to the aisle in front of them with his blade. "I've used the archives before. There's always someone on duty, and they'll know where we need to look."

Castiel began walking, striding down the aisle with his shoulders squared and his head held high. It may have been a covert mission, but Castiel wasn't one to tuck his tail and creep around in the shadows.

"Whoever we find better tell us where to go quickly," Balthazar whispered, following Castiel with a much more cautious demeanor. "Someone is going to find out the guards are missing, and I would bet it'll be sooner rather than later."

Castiel nodded once. "We may have a little more time than you might think. They won't look for intruders in the archives. They'll go to more obvious targets first."

"True," Balthazar conceded. "Here's hoping you're right, mate."

Castiel nodded again, his attention drawn to the large, circular structure that stood at the center of the archives. It was a combination between a counter and multiple desks, with several chairs and filing cabinets on the inside of it while the outside was a wall that came up to one's waist. It looked empty at first, but Castiel's eyes caught a glimpse of movement just barely above the countertop.

Perhaps they're crouched down? Looking in a filing cabinet?

Castiel gripped his blade a little tighter and continued down the aisle, resigning himself to the fact that he would need to kill whoever was working. It was an odd feeling, opposing his brothers and sisters, but it still felt right to him. It felt more right than following orders ever had, and despite how mortal it was to obey instincts, Castiel was doing just that.

"What can I help you find today?" the clerk asked, speaking first and then looking up from the open book in front of her. "Wait. Castiel? But you're—"

Castiel reached across the desk and grabbed her by the shirt, pulling her closer and pressing the tip of his angel blade to her breast. "Sorry, Dinah. But I need a book."

Balthazar chuckled, smirking at the dumbstruck Dinah. "Don't make this difficult, love. Just help us find what we're looking for, and we'll let you go."

Dinah swallowed hard, holding her hands up, and then she nodded. "O—okay. What do you need?"

Castiel pulled on her shirt. "Get over the desk. I know there's an emergency button back there."

Dinah swallowed again and grabbed the edge of the counter, pulling herself up onto it and then crawling over. She looked between Castiel and Balthazar, fear in her dark brown eyes.

Castiel kept his blade pressed against her chest. "Hand over your angel blade."

Dinah dropped the weapon from her suit sleeve and handed it over.

Castiel let go of her shirt and grabbed the blade, shoving it in his coat pocket. "We need books on summoning." He glared slightly. "You're going to take us there."

Dinah nodded. "Okay. Okay, I can do that." She wet her lips and then gestured to their left. "They're, uh, they're this way."

Castiel grabbed her by the arm and kept his blade ready to kill. "Walk."

Dinah nodded and started to lead them around the circular desk. She went about halfway around it, and then she turned to her right, leading them down one of the aisles with bookshelves on either side.

Immediately, Castiel saw an angel reading a book, and he tightened his grip on Dinah's arm. "Balthazar."

Balthazar ran out ahead of Castiel, his weapon drawn.

"Raziel!" Dinah shouted, trying to warn the angel she had led them to.

Raziel's head snapped up, and he backed away from Balthazar, dropping his blade from his sleeve and holding it up to defend himself. Balthazar hit the blade with his own, the sound of metal on metal echoing in the nearly silent archives. They both swung, meeting in the middle, and then Raziel ran forward. Balthazar jumped back and knocked Raziel's blade aside before lunging forward and sinking his blade into Raziel's chest.

Dinah gasped as his body hit the floor. "Raziel!"

Castiel gripped Dinah's arm so hard he thought her vessel would break. "There. You've managed to get someone killed. Are you going to try that again, or are you going to lead us to the books we need?"

Dinah brought her free hand up to cover her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. "I—I'll take you to the books."

Balthazar picked up Raziel's angel blade and started walking back to Castiel and Dinah. "You try and trick us again, and you'll be dead. Got it, love?"

Dinah nodded, horrified, and she slowly started to turn. "We have to go back this way."

Castiel continued to hold his blade to her chest, walking down the aisle with Balthazar right behind him. Dinah walked back to the center of the archives and then went about a quarter of the way around the circular desk. She then turned down an aisle, leading them past dozens of bookshelves before coming to a stop.

"These are the books about summoning." Dinah gestured with her free hand, her movements timid. "From floor to ceiling."

Balthazar looked the shelves up and down. "We don't have that kind of time, mate."

"Dinah." Castiel gave her a hard look. "We need to summon an archangel."

Dinah stared at them both, frightened and confused, but then she seemed to get control of herself. She looked at the books and took a deep breath. "Well, I don't know for sure, but…" She extended her foot, indicating the bottom shelves. "These are the oldest. If there's anything about summoning archangels, it would be down here, I think."

"You think?" Castiel questioned, his voice dangerous.

Dinah flinched. "No one looks for spells to summon an archangel. There's no need for them. I—I'm sorry, but this is the best I can do."

Castiel watched her for a long moment, and then he put his attention on the books. "Well, we can't take all of them. Balthazar, start looking at forwards and tables of contents." He looked back at Dinah. "Unfortunately, we're done with you."

Dinah looked at him with wide eyes, pulling futilely on her arm. "Just let me go. I won't tell anyone, I swear."

Castiel was unconvinced. "You already tried to trick us, and we can't afford Michael finding out about our plans. I'm sorry, Dinah."

Castiel drew his arm back and thrust his angel blade directly into her heart, releasing her arm and watching the light pour from her mouth and eyes. He kept his eyes on her until her body crumpled to the ground, burned wing markings spread out on the pristine floor beneath her.

"Oof. That's cold, Cassie."

Castiel glared faintly. "She would have reported back to Michael. We can't afford to show mercy."

Balthazar held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I don't disagree. I'm just saying." He crouched down then, grabbing the first of many books and opening it to the front. "Let's see if we can find out how to summon an archangel."

"Keep an eye out for references to the Four Horsemen and Lucifer." Castiel knelt on the floor and grabbed a book of his own. "If you see any references to putting up mental walls, grab that, too."

Balthazar gave a mock salute and started to page through.

Castiel glanced at Dinah and then put his attention on the book in his lap, his eyes skimming the contents. We can't afford to show mercy. He still felt a nagging guilt, but it was different from the guilt he felt when he kidnapped Liam. It was smaller and weaker, and when he talked to it with logic, it decreased. I chose this path. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I chose it. Castiel closed his book and reached for another. Somehow, someway, we have to win.

"Okay, okay, okay, just—just stop a second!"

Dean stopped with the iron knife hovering over the demon's collarbone. He arched a brow, looking at the bound demon with a less-than-impressed look on his face, and he waited to see what she had to say.

"Look, even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to tell you anything about Lucifer's plans." She panted, the cuts on her arms and shoulders bleeding sluggishly. "I'm just a grunt. I don't know anything relevant, okay?"

Dean turned the blade over in his hand. "Then why fight me for so long? You could have said you don't know anything from the beginning."

She glared, lips pulling back as she bared her teeth. "I don't want to betray him. Lucifer is our salvation. Once he defeats Michael—"

"Yeah, that crap is the last thing I want to hear." Dean grabbed her hair and put the knife to her throat. "So, you don't know what the big man is up to. What's your best guess?"

"Screw you," she hissed, and even in the dimly lit warehouse, Dean could see the hatred in her eyes.

Dean pressed the tip of the blade into her neck, steam rising from her skin as blood started to trickle down her throat. "You might want to come up with something better than that."

"Screw you!" She tossed her head, trying to lean back in the chair she was bound to. "Just kill me already!"

"Who says I'm killing you?" Dean slowly dragged the knife downward, pressing enough to break the skin, but not enough to do major damage. "If you give me something good, I might just send you back to Hell. You'd have a chance to get out again someday."

Scoffing, the demon rolled her eyes. "Right. You send me back to Hell, and Lucifer himself cuts into me, trying to find out what I told you. You think you're a better tormentor than him? You think you're scarier than the Devil himself?" She scoffed again. "Just kill me."

Dean started dragging the knife back up, digging into the open wound. "I don't know, you're kinda making me want to send you back to Lucifer. Maybe you'd get what you deserve then."

"Yeah, and I'll tell him exactly where you are and what you're doing." She narrowed her eyes. "Is that what you want?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "We'll be long gone before you get a chance to tell him, and I haven't revealed any of what we're doing other than interrogating demons. Shockingly, I'm not worried."

Dean turned away from the chair and walked over to his table of weapons, pondering the salt and wondering what would happen if he ground it into her open wounds. He reached a hand out to pick up the container, and then the charm dangling from his neck began to burn against his chest.

Dean whirled on the spot, panic stopping his heart in his chest, but the cardiac arrest was short-lived. "Dangit, Cas!"

Castiel blinked his wide eyes and stared from where he stood between Dean and the demon. "Apologies." He turned his head slightly, glancing at the woman tied to the chair. "Have you been successful?"

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, trying and failing to read Castiel's expressionless face. "Not yet, but I'm not done with her." He frowned slightly. "How did you find me?"

"Sam told me." Castiel turned his head to look at Dean again. "I was on my way to deliver some angel blades, and I thought I might be of assistance here."

Dean nodded slightly. "Sure." He turned back to the table and picked up the salt. "Maybe you'll actually get somewhere," he remarked bitterly, passing Castiel and stopping in front of the demon. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

Dark eyes narrowed into slits, the demon pulling against her bonds. "I'm not afraid of an angel."

"You should be," Castiel uttered dryly, stopping beside Dean. "I can torture you in ways a human can't, and I've got nothing to lose." He glanced at Dean's salt and then took another step, reaching out and placing his hand over the demon's heart. "Where is Lucifer?"

She spat in his face.

Castiel didn't respond outwardly, and his demeanor didn't change, but light began to shine from under his hand.

The demon screamed, and in light of Castiel's formidable technique, Dean walked the salt back to the table of instruments he had been using. He folded his arms over his chest and stayed by the table, watching Castiel as he questioned her again.

Is he really on our side? It was hard to trust anything having to do with the angel. Castiel had been manipulating them from the moment he swooped into that barn, and he had done a lot of things Dean was inclined to think were unforgivable. It's not like we have much of a choice, and he has done some things to prove himself.

Dean shoved the thoughts aside and focused on watching the interrogation. He watched as Castiel asked the same questions over and over, the demon letting out bloodcurdling screams in between curses and empty threats. He watched, and he couldn't help but feel simultaneously indignant and grateful. Dean didn't like the idea of anyone thinking he couldn't handle a demon interrogation himself, but it was obvious that whatever Castiel was doing was significantly more painful than anything Dean could dish out.

"What are Lucifer's next steps?"

The demon didn't respond, panting and wheezing, doubled over in her chair.

Castiel grabbed her hair and jerked her head up. "What are Lucifer's next steps?" he repeated, his voice low and deadly.

"I don't know," she rasped. "I don't know."

Dean uncrossed his arms and walked away from the table, joining Castiel in front of the demon. "What do you think, Cas? Time to cut her loose?"

Castiel scrutinized the demon, his hand still buried in her hair. "I'm inclined to believe she doesn't know anything of value."

Dean nodded and opened his mouth to start the exorcism, but Castiel shifted his hand to her face and gripped it tight.

"Wait!"

Dean had barely gotten the word out when light shone from the demons mouth and eyes, a final scream tearing up her throat before she went limp in the chair.

"Cas!" Dean faced the angel, who slowly released the demon's face and looked at Dean. "You just killed the host!"

Castiel cocked his head to the side. "We couldn't just exorcise her. She would have reported back to Lucifer."

"She wouldn't have reported anything useful," Dean countered, stealing a glance at the demon's burned-out eye sockets before putting his gaze back on Castiel. "I didn't reveal anything, and we're leaving this town as soon as we're done here."

Castiel kept his head cocked, eyes squinting slightly. "It is dangerous to give Lucifer any information at all. The less he knows about our efforts, the better." He righted his head. "Sam killed two demons in the town influenced by War. How is that different?"

Dean spread his arms, raising his voice slightly. "Those boys turned out not to be demons, which is another reason to not kill the hosts."

Castiel frowned. "Dean, this is a war. There are going to be casualties. Tell me you understand this."

"Of course I understand." Dean dropped his arms, his frustration receding. "I understand, but I want to avoid as many casualties as I can. Maybe that won't be the easiest choice, but if it's doable, I want to do it."

Castiel stared for a moment, and then he offered a faint nod. "I understand. I respect your decision." He gave Dean a cautious look. "As long as you understand that I will not be taking such risks."

"Hey." Dean held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "You do things your way, I'll do things my way."

"Agreed." Castiel turned toward the table. "We should pack your things and leave. If she had other demons in the area working with her, they're going to notice she's gone."

Dean nodded and walked up to the table, grabbing the container of salt and shoving it into his duffle bag. "You got it. Let's get out of here."

Castiel joined Dean by the table and grabbed the iron knife, putting it in the bag. "I have angel blades for you." He paused. "As you know, they are weapons that kill the host. It is up to you whether you use them or not, but… you should have them for those situations where killing the host becomes necessary."

Dean shoved a few odds and ends into the bag and zipped it shut. "I take it you killed a lot of angels to get those blades."

Castiel nodded, watching Dean's face carefully.

Dean debated with himself, trying to decide what to say. He almost wanted to apologize for the fact that Castiel was now against his family, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It had been Castiel's choice—it had been the right choice—and Dean already shouldered enough blame to last him a lifetime. He didn't need any more.

"So…" Dean slung the bag over his shoulder and turned toward the devil's trap and the smitten demon in the center. "Should we bury her? Make it a little harder for the demons to figure out what happened?"

"Perhaps?" Castiel squinted, a contemplative expression on his face. "Yes. I believe that is the best course of action." He started walking toward the body. "You return to the motel. I will come find you when I'm finished."

Dean snorted. "Do you even know how to bury a body?"

Castiel gave him a disdainful look. "It can't be that hard."

"You'd be surprised." Dean jerked a thumb toward the door to the warehouse. "Come on. The shovel's in the trunk."

Dean started walking, and Castiel soon followed after him. They made their way out to the car in silence, and the silence continued while Dean retrieved the shovel.

"Thanks for taking care of this." Dean dropped the duffel bag into the trunk and then shut it. "How, uh… how is your hunt for Gabriel going?"

Castiel looked at the shovel like he had never seen one before. "It is… going." He looked at Dean. "I spoke to Sam about it briefly when I called to confirm I was still alive."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, he mentioned that." He leaned back against the Impala, folding his arms over his chest. "I know it's only been, like, a week, but have you found anything useful?"

Castiel shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. But there are mountains of material to sort through. We've only just begun."

Dean pursed his lips and nodded again. "Got it." He pushed off the vehicle. "Well, I'm headed back to the motel. You're gonna come there when you're done, right?"

Castiel nodded, and then he gave the shovel another odd look. "Yes."

"Hmm." Dean scratched his cheek, his expression turning thoughtful. "Maybe we'll go out for dinner. Liam would like that, and we can't live on fast food forever."

Castiel stared at Dean, a cautious look on his face. "And I… would come with you?"

"Yeah, of course." Dean frowned slightly. "Why wouldn't you?"

For a moment, Castiel looked like he might respond, his mouth opening and closing as he fought to find words. He struggled for several seconds, and then he stopped, offering a soft smile. "It doesn't matter. I will be there."

Dean's gaze lingered on Castiel's face, but he eventually let the topic drop. "Okay, then." Walking around the Impala, Dean grabbed the driver's side door and opened it. "See you later, Cas."

"Yes. See you later." Castiel looked down at the shovel again, still seeming a bit lost.

Dean just laughed to himself, turning the keys in the ignition and starting the engine. He put the car in drive and, after looking at Castiel in the rearview mirror, he pulled away from the old, abandoned warehouse.

It didn't take long for his thoughts to turn less-than-positive, and he reminded himself that this was the very first demon he interrogated about Lucifer's plans. It wasn't going to be that easy; there were going to be weeks or maybe months of hard work and dead ends. That was the nature of the hunt. He just had to keep moving forward, taking the answers as they came. Eventually, it would all come together.

It always did.

Author's Note: Sorry for the major delay in this chapter, guys. I have been struggling with severe depression, and I am just now starting to recover. Thank you for your patience!