It had taken a great deal of skulking around, close calls, and fast talking to get to the point they were at now. After stealing some clothes from a line, Dean had managed to hustle some pool and get enough money to buy Cass some clothes from a thrift shop. Then they'd done some hitchhiking back to Dean's old neighborhood, although they avoided his old house. Knowing he couldn't contact his father for help, Dean had instead gone to his father's storage shed. The shed hadn't been used in years. Dean didn't have a key, but Cass was able to make short work of the lock and get them inside.

Now, along with their camping supplies, Dean had some of his old civilian clothes, his dad's old leather jacket, and even a couple of pistols his dad had been keeping in the shed. Best of all, Dean found the keys to his father's midnight 1967 Impala with gleaming trim. Despite having been in storage for years, Baby needed only a little tune-up before she was purring along, eating up the miles on their way west. Dean's old mix tapes were playing, his fingers drumming along to the beat while they drove.

"You realize this will take us far longer to reach our destination?" Cass grumbled from the passenger seat. The dragon, it seemed, was still sulking about the fact that Dean steadfastly refused to fly.

"Yeah, but it's a lot less likely to be noticed than either a dragon or a dude with wings flying overhead," Dean pointed out.

Cass sighed. "I suppose I could carry this car in my claws if I had to."

"Like hell you will!" Dean immediately yelled. "You keep your claws off of my baby!"

Cass gave him a flat look. "I will make every effort not to scratch your shiny car."

"Good." Dean fumbled around in the bag on the seat between them and produced another cheeseburger. "Here, eat this. You'll feel better."

As usual, Cass immediately started in on the sandwich. Dean was glad to discover the dragon enjoyed cheeseburgers almost as much as he did, announcing, "This makes me very happy!" There was no denying that Cass was incredibly cute. More than once, Dean had to firmly remind himself that Cass was, indeed, a dragon and not dating material. Sometimes, that was hard, especially when he was happily munching down a cheeseburger with ketchup dribbling down his chin. Dean smiled fondly at the dragon, chucked, and dug back into the bag for a napkin for the dragon to wipe the ketchup off of his chin. It was good to see Cass's appetite. Lately, the dragon had seemed more tired than usual. Stress of the chase, no doubt.

The biggest concern Dean had right now was his complete inability to reach his brother. While he supposed it was possible that Sammy was screening his calls, he knew that Dean, their father, and their stepmother were frequent travelers due to the nature of their work. The possibility that a strange phone would be used to contact Sam in an emergency was high. Dean couldn't understand why Sam wouldn't answer, especially when Dean was calling him almost hourly from the burner phone he'd picked up and leaving messages. Troubled, Dean pulled the phone out and dialed, frowning when once again his brother's recorded voice directed him to voicemail. "Sammy, it's me again," Dean said after the beep. "You seriously need to stop being a bitch and pick up. It's really important! Stay away from Yosemite, too. There's shit going down. Call me back at this number, like, yesterday." He paused. "I miss you, Sam. Please call me. Please."

"Is there a reason he wouldn't call you?" Cass asked after Dean hung up.

"I guess he could still be pissed off," Dean suggested. "We didn't exactly part on the best of terms last time. Sammy was angry that Dad was taking me on at his base. He thought I'd already been given too many chances and if I fucked up again, it would reflect poorly on Dad. As you can imagine, I had a lot to say about that. Sammy stormed out and told me not to bother contacting him when I really got in the shit." He swallowed. "I guess he meant it."

Cass didn't reply. The dragon's blue eyes were fixed on Dean, betraying nothing of his thoughts.

It was getting dark when they started driving through the mountains near Yosemite. Cass seemed to be on high alert, constantly scanning the sky. It was making Dean nervous. "Do you really think Raphael would just be flying around in the open?" Dean asked. "I know he's been seen out here, but surely the people with him wouldn't be stupid enough to just have him flying around over the roads?"

"We're not on a major highway," Cass pointed out, his eyes still on the sky. "You've been careful to avoid those coming out here. We've seen only a couple of other cars in the past hour. We're deep in the wilderness, and it's getting dark. There's absolutely a chance we could encounter Raphael."

Dean glanced up, uneasy. "So you're basically watching for wings on the horizon? Going to be hard to see them when it gets dark."

"I'm not actually watching for wings," Cass explained absently. His eyes were fixed on a dark bank of clouds. "I'm looking for lightning."

"Lightning?" Dean echoed, confused. "What's so strange about lightning?"

"Normally, nothing. However, the presence of lightning might indicate Raphael."

"Why? Wouldn't you be looking for flames?"

"With Michael, yes, because he's a fire dragon like myself. So was Lucifer. But Raphael was different. He's a storm dragon. He doesn't breathe fire, he breathes lightning."

"Breathes… Lightning?" Dean suddenly found himself gripping the wheel, his eyes frequently darting between the road and the ominous bank of clouds. He'd been feeling a little better about this whole dragon fighting thing since he'd learned Cass could make him fireproof. But lightning? That was a whole different ballgame.

Seeming to sense Dean's mood, Cass looked over at him. "My fight with Raphael will likely be difficult," he confirmed. "While fire dragons can still hurt each other with our fire, I don't have nearly the protection against lightning. Fortunately, that also works in reverse. My fire will be more effective against Raphael."

Dean goosed Baby's accelerator a little more, suddenly wanting to get out of the open. "Just out of curiosity, what's Gabriel?"

"I don't know. I never met him. I never met any of them."

"Then how did you know what the other dragons were?" Dean rolled his eyes, answering his own question before Cass responded. "Ketch told you, didn't he? He didn't tell you what Gabriel was?"

"They didn't know either," Cass said. "Gabriel never demonstrated his abilities while the military had him. The only reason they know about Michael and Raphael is because they saw the destruction they caused." The dragon looked troubled.

Dean saw a flash out of the corner of his eye and nearly went off the road. "Lightning!"

"A storm is coming in," Cass said calmly. "That lightning is natural. It's not Raphael yet, but we're probably close."

"Awesome." Of course it was a storm. Those were storm clouds, after all, and they typically had lightning. Nothing to worry about. So what if he maybe kept driving a bit past the posted speed limit?

Eventually, they reached the destination Dean had chosen from a Google search. It was a small group of hunting cabins for rent. Since it was the off season, Dean was able to get one for a decent price. The fact that he was paying cash helped, too. A grouchy older man wearing grungy work clothes and a ball cap glowered through his beard at Dean, took his money, and handed over the keys, all without saying a word. Dean, who had been wearing a ball cap and sunglasses to try to disguise his appearance, was glad to get it.

The cabin turned out to be an old log cabin with white mortar between black logs. It was small but cozy, with electric lighting but an indoor wood-burning stove for heat. Fortunately, Dean was also able to purchase some firewood, using the last of his petty cash. After this, he'd have to find a way to get some more money to keep Baby in gas. As it was, he barely had enough left to feed them. The area was rather off the beaten path, with an outdoor bath house that at least had indoor plumbing. Dean didn't like the idea of going outside to pee in the middle of the night in grizzly country, but it was the best he could do. At least their host hadn't wanted an ID.

At the door, Cass hesitated, looking off at the lake the cabins were situated near. Dean paused near the dragon, looking around. "Sure is nice and peaceful out here," he commented.

"Raphael is probably near," Cass announced.

Dean immediately froze. "You can sense him?"

"Not the way you're asking, although I'll know another dragon in his human form when I see him. I only meant that this area is within range of his last known location," Cass reported. "He's older than I am, and working with a terrorist group, so it's likely he'll be very good at hiding his presence."

"Great," Dean sighed. "How do we know when he's coming?"

"We don't," Cass responded immediately. "He's also got the terrorist group that stole him and Michael on his side. Our best bet is to try to remain undetected for as long as possible until we get a better idea of where he is. Nearly as important, we need to make sure Michael isn't with him. Fighting just one of them will be very difficult. I'll stand no chance against them both."

"Ok, then we keep our heads down," Dean said. "While I can't say I'm thrilled that the guy is near, at least we'll have some time to try to find him before he's on top of us. This part of the country has some pretty rugged folk, independent mountain types. They'd notice an armed group, right?"

Castiel nodded. "Good thinking. Right now, our best bet is to utilize local resources. We'll have to be careful about who we talk to, though. Remember, we're both still AWOL."

"Don't worry, I remember," Dean grumbled. "I haven't seen our faces in the news on the internet, but if they're not alerting the general public, that means they're only going to be looking for us harder."

Castiel looked at Dean, his expression serious. "Just remember, even if it's only Raphael, he'll have allies. He won't have to approach us until he's ready to attack."

Dean looked warily around. "How about we go inside?"

The dragon nodded and headed inside.

Inside the cabin, Cass poked around curiously while Dean set up the kitchen and started making spaghetti for supper. Despite the somewhat unkempt appearance of the owner, the cabin itself was spotless. The appliances were so old they were avocado colored, but none of them had a speck of rust. Even the fridge, which hummed loudly every time it turned on, was in perfect working order. The owner may be curmudgeonly, but he certainly kept up the maintenance of his property.

After they ate, both of them were on edge. The storm had arrived, bringing wind, cold rain, and naturally, thunder and lightning. Even running to the bathroom ended up with them getting soaked. Dean was starting to regret the spices he'd put into the spaghetti sauce. His stomach was churning from anxiety, giving him a bad case of heartburn. His mind raced, trying to come up with a plan.

"Dean, there's no sense in worrying," Castiel said with a sigh. "It's highly unlikely that Raphael will simply swoop down and fire on us from above in the middle of the night. He likely has no idea we're here. We do have an advantage there."

"I suppose," Dean grumbled. "Look, he can sense you're a dragon if he sees you, but he can't tell anything about me, right?" When Castiel nodded, he continued, "What if I go out and scout around a little? I'd at least like to get a feel for the people around here."

That earned him a sharp look. "I don't like the idea of you being away from me."

"Let's face facts. I will absolutely not be riding you into a dragon fight because I'd be more of a liability than anything else right now. No matter what, I'm grounded. So at least let me be a little useful?" Dean pleaded.

A loud crack of thunder made them both jump. Dean let out a squeal that was most certainly not girlish and whirled around, pistol in hand to face the door.

"Perhaps it's best if we just call it a night?" Cass suggested tactfully.

Dean took a shaky breath, nodded, and shamefully put his pistol back in its holster. "I really doubt I'll be able to sleep tonight."

"That's alright," Cass soothed. "I'll watch over you while you sleep."

"Like hell you will," Dean retorted. "One, that's creepy. Two, you're the one who's supposed to fight this asshole. You need your rest."

"Very well," Cass replied, looking surprisingly happy for having just been scolded. "Let's go to bed, then, and I will hold you. That will help you sleep."

Once again, Dean wondered how it was his mouth always seemed to make everything worse? Then he thought of something else. "You know, lately you've been, well, not exactly Jimmy Novak-like. Jimmy was always by the book and never stepped outside the lines. But you've been acting more like, well…" He waved his arms, indicating himself.

Cass actually laughed. "Did you honestly believe that our bond only went one way? Just as I'm able to share some of my abilities with you, I also get some things from you."

Dean facepalmed and groaned loudly.

"It's hardly been a burden," Cass argued, looking upset. "If I hadn't gained some of your give-'em-hell attitude, we'd still be back in our cage with Dr. Tapping and her synthesized hormone trying to force me to bond with Ketch."

Dean spread his hands and let them fall, conceding the point. "Alright, let's hit the sack. But I'm sleeping with my gun under the pillow, just in case someone comes bursting in here."

"Well, if that's a fear…?" Cass picked up the large solid wood table with built-in seats with enviable ease and placed it firmly in front of the door.

"Good job," Dean commented, carefully not looking at the windows. He was afraid Cass would tear out a cabinet or something to block them if he did.

To Dean's surprise, he quickly fell asleep, waking up in the familiar position of wrapped up tightly by Cass. The two headed to the bathhouse and quickly washed up at the sink. Dean was afraid to step into the shower, for fear he'd be attacked while naked. Cass seemed to pick up on the fear and hovered close, getting in the way. Dean was able to pack up quickly, but now he hesitated, not sure what to do.

"Perhaps we should remain here?" Castiel offered. "It seems an adequate base for our operations."

"One we can't really afford," Dean admitted. "If I pay for another night, that means I won't have enough to get us food."

"I can get us food," Castiel announced. "I'll just go hunting." He headed for the door, but then hesitated. "I'll go with you to pay for another night, bring you back here, and then go for food."

"One, I can do that by myself. Two, how, exactly, are you going to hunt? You can't change into a dragon and give yourself away!"

Castiel gave him a sour look. Then his wings appeared, quickly taking him into the treetops, where he disappeared.

Dean stared after him, realizing the dragon was likely getting himself into position to drop onto passing game. "Huh," he marveled. "I know he didn't get that from me! I guess it's a combination of instinct and cop training." Shaking his head, Dean donned his disguise, climbed into Baby and headed back to see their bearded host about staying another night.

When he arrived at the house, the camp owner wasn't alone. A striking dark-skinned woman wearing faded jeans, a loose denim jacket, and muddy hiking boots with her hair pulled back into a low ponytail was talking with him on the porch. Both looked up when Dean pulled in. Dean gave the woman a smile. "Sorry, Ma'am, I'll just wait until you're finished."

"Oh no, go right ahead," the woman said, beckoning Dean forward. "I was just chatting with Mr. Singer here, but we're finished."

"If you're sure?" When she nodded, Dean approached Mr. Singer. "We'd like to rent the cabin for another night, if that's possible, Mr. Singer?"

Singer grunted. "My dad was Mr. Singer, but I can't seem to get Lanette to understand that. Call me Bobby."

"Bobby." Dean turned his smile to Bobby and produced his wallet. "Is the cabin available?"

"It is, but I don't want trouble," Bobby warned. "That's twice now you've come in here with your face as covered as you could get it without pulling a stocking over your head. You two boys running from the law?"

Dean's heart sank. "Um, no, Sir, we didn't do anything wrong. We just are looking for someone, and trying to avoid someone else. It's complicated."

"It usually is," Lanette noted. "Is it just the two of you?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Turning back to Bobby, Dean grew serious. "I promise we're not troublemakers, but I understand your concern. If it's too much trouble, we'll move on. We don't want to cause problems."

"Oh, let them stay," Lanette announced, surprising Dean. "Donnie and I can keep an eye on them."

"You sure?" Bobby asked, looking hard at the woman.

"I'm sure." Turning to Dean, she smiled. "I would ask one favor of you, though, when you're finished with your business here?"

"What can I do for you, Ma'am?" Dean asked, handing his money to Bobby. "I sure do appreciate your help here and I'd be happy to return the favor if I can."

She indicated her muddy boots. "My husband Donnie and I are staying in a cabin as well. I walked out here, but as you likely noticed, the road is quite muddy. Could I trouble you for a ride to our cabin?"

"That would be no trouble at all, Mrs…?"

"Finnerman." She extended a slender hand, which Dean shook.

"I'm Dean Winchester. Mr. Si-, er, Bobby? I really appreciate this. Tomorrow we'll be on our way."

Bobby only grunted, his eyes seeming to appraise Dean. Lanette waved goodbye and allowed Dean to hold Baby's door, knocking her booted feet together outside to try to remove some of the mud. "I'm afraid I'll make a bit of a mess," she apologized.

"That's ok. It's worth it for your help. I really appreciate it." Dean got in and started Baby's engine. "Which cabin are you in?"

Lanette directed him to a cabin where a slim, muscular dark-skinned man was outside, chopping wood. The man had enviable skill, setting up each log and easily cleaving it in half with a single blow. He paused when Dean pulled in, smiling at the sight of the woman and raising an eyebrow at Dean.

Dean came over, hand extended. "Donnie Finnerman? I'm Dean Winchester. My friend and I are renting one of the other cabins, and your wife just helped me out a bit. I gave her a ride to repay her."

"Is that so?" Donnie had a deep voice and a strong grip when he shook with Dean. "In that case, come inside. I'll make you breakfast."

Dean was about to politely refuse when his stomach rumbled embarrassingly. He blushed. "Heh, I'm definitely hungry, but I should go back. My friend should be back soon."

"Then we'll come to you." Donnie was apparently not used to being argued with. He immediately headed back into the cabin before Dean could politely refuse.

Lanette chuckled. "Don't mind my husband. His manners are sometimes a bit lacking, but his heart's in the right place. He also makes fantastic breakfast steaks, eggs, and bacon."

Bacon. Dean's stomach growled again, making her laugh.

Donnie soon appeared, arms full of breakfast fixings that he took to his vehicle. Lanette joined him. Dean led the way back to the cabin. The Finnermans seemed to be local, if they were friends with Bobby. He reasoned they were a good place to start in their search for Raphael. Besides, he could hardly turn down free food when Cass was out right now trying to hunt just so they'd have something to eat.

Donnie waltzed right into the cabin, frowned at the empty kitchen, gave Dean a look, and went to the stove. At Lanette's suggestion, Dean stayed outside with her. They sat on opposite sides of the picnic table on the cabin's porch, Dean keeping a careful eye out for any sign of Cass.

"So what brings you out here, if I may be so bold as to ask?" she began.

"My friend and I are out here for a couple of reasons, actually," Dean began. "One, my brother is out here, and I haven't seen him for quite some time. But we're also trying to find some people." He licked his lips, considering how to approach the subject. "I don't suppose you've seen any strangers around?"

"Besides you, you mean?" Smiling to take any sting out of her words, she shook her head. "As you may have noticed from Bobby, the people around here don't take kindly to strangers. My husband and I are from the area. We left it for a while, thinking we were doing something important, but it turned out to be not nearly as important as we'd believed. Leaving, however, turned out to be not quite as simple as we'd hoped." She traced a finger along a groove in the table surface. "That's a big reason why Bobby is so protective. There are some people that we prefer didn't find us."

"We're the same," Dean said. "Like I told Bobby, we didn't really do anything wrong. Just like you, things didn't work out the way we'd hoped, and just like you, we've got some people after us that aren't happy we left."

She gave a wry smile. "Small world."

"Indeed it is." Donnie had come out to the porch. "Dean, don't you have any dishes? It's a little hard for me to cook without them."

Dean grimaced. "I packed the mess kit, thinking we'd have to leave today. Let me just go get it out of the car."

He stood up, but stopped when he saw movement. Castiel was coming toward the cabin, dragging a deer behind him and looking confused to find strangers there. He came into view and his eyes went wide. "Dean! Get over here, now!"

Dean didn't understand, but he was used to obeying orders. He jumped over the rail of the porch and ran to Cass. "What's wrong? This is Donnie and Lanette Finnerman, from cabin…"

"No," Cass growled. He'd moved to shield Dean with one arm. "That's Raphael!"

The Finnermans had gotten to their feet, their eyes wide as they stared at Castiel. Donnie's eyes narrowed. "You!"

Then Cass shoved Dean backward and transformed, and Dean couldn't see much of anything.