To my reviewers and story alerters, enjoy! Quick apologies for any OOC-ness.

Part III

Dean didn't understand the full nature of Blair's plan until he was ambushed by Zachariah and his cronies five days later. One of which included Michael, wearing the body of a young male with an athlete's body. Or, at least what had once been an athlete.

By the looks of the charred cheeks, he was burning through him fast.

"Get behind me," Castiel commanded, pushing the brothers backwards.

"Not much you can do, Castiel," Zachariah chided, shaking his head. "We've been tracking you monkeys for weeks. This time, Michael isn't taking no for an answer. And frankly, neither am I."

Dean had just enough time to flinch before Zachariah snapped his fingers.

He was expecting his organs to explode or maybe tongue cancer this time.

Neither occurred.

In fact, nothing happened for such a long while that Dean managed to glance at Sam and Cas, seeing their forms were in one piece as well.

"You are impotent," Castiel stated out of nowhere, tilting his head slightly. "Why are you impotent?"

Zachariah's face twisted into a nasty grimace as he expectantly snapped his fingers again.

But, Castiel, Sam, and Dean remained unharmed.

"Michael?" Zachariah called, turning to the angel in confusion.

The vessel Michael chose had unusually expressive, thick brown eyebrows. And at the moment, they were currently pulled together into a near straight line.

"Something's wrong," he stated deeply, eyes glued to Dean. "What did you do?"

"Me?" Dean argued. "I didn't do anything."

"I am impotent as well," Castiel announced, staring down at his hands. "This is...awkward."

"So...are you saying no one can work their...mojo?" Sam surmised, semi-quoting his brother.

"How is that possible?" a strict looking woman to Zachariah's left whispered.

The alleyway began to bustle in confusion.

"By Father, I can't even expel myself from this vessel," the same woman muttered.

"Cas...what's going on?"

"I...do not know," the angel answered slowly. "Our graces have temporarily been subdued somehow."

"If none of the angels can use their abilities, that means Michael and Lucifer can't possess us."

Sam's quiet revelation finally got Dean to connect the dots.

"Son of a bitch!" he exclaimed.

"What did you do, Dean?" Michael repeated, a dangerous edge in his voice.

"Sorry, dude. You really screwed the pooch on this one. Word to the wise, don't piss off people more powerful than you."

"Dean-."

The elder Winchester ignored Castiel's warning.

Blair had done it! He wasn't exactly sure how, but she did. So long as the asshats couldn't tap into their ability or exit their vessels, he and Sammy would be safe.

"How dare you disrespect Michael?" the strict woman demanded, marching forward.

"Jophiel-," Michael cautioned.

"I will bleed you dry and make you wish you'd said yes to him a thousand times," she threatened, raising two menacing, manicured hands.

Dean raised his own arms halfway, unsure if she'd actually try to attack him.

"I don't usually hit chicks," he mentioned.

"Were she at full power, she wouldn't hesitate to smite you," Castiel input. "Defend yourself. You are at an advantage by being a hunter. With the exception of Michael, the rest of them are unfamiliar with fighting in their vessels. They aren't soldiers. "

"Who have you been in contact with, Dean?" Michael interrupted. "You were debating saying yes to me. Now, you cannot. Who is responsible for this?"

"If you think I'm going to tell your sorry ass, you got another thing coming."

"Whoever they are, they cannot be trusted," the archangel advised seriously. "Someone who has enough power to dull an angel's grace is not on the side of God or light."

"You're just scared because you finally can't defend yourself," Sam accused.

"Neither can you," he countered before meeting Zachariah's eyes. "Let them go. We will find a way around this on our own. And when we do, understand I will show no mercy upon you three-."

His gazed narrowed at Dean.

"-or the person helping you."

"Good luck with that," Dean offered. "Hey, maybe try dealing with Lucifer the human way. Ya know, a few slaps here and there. Maybe a hissy fit contest. That'd teach both of you bastards."

"I am not a bastard," Michael growled icily, taking a step forward.

Before Dean could goad him further, Castiel grabbed a hold of his shoulder and dragged him away from the incensed archangel. Sam followed the duo, but also kept an eye on the five vessels watching their retreat.

It wasn't until they were safely a block away inside a diner that Sam and Castiel promptly turned to Dean.

"That was a close one," he laughed, throwing on a half grin. "I'm starved. I wonder if they have pie."

"Michael said you're involved with the person who won't let the angels use their grace," Sam stated, watching him cautiously. "Is that true?"

"What are they?" Castiel interjected in bewilderment.

"Was he right? Is this person dangerous?"

"What did you sacrifice for this deal?"

"Hey, hey, guys, chill," Dean mitigated, holding out two hands. "I called in a favor and got things worked out. Can't we just be happy Lucifer and Michael aren't going to be riding our asses into the apocalypse?"

"Dean," Castiel warned, "if Michael - God's fiercest soldier - warned you not to be involved with this individual, then I strongly suggest following the advice. It should be celestially impossible to disconnect an angel on Earth from their grace without physically extracting it. Whatever you are in league with, don't-."

"You must be the angel of the group. No one else can be that much of a buzz kill so quickly."

All three men turned in the direction of the voice, only to find a woman seated patiently in a booth, staring up at them from an open menu.

"Blair," Dean blurted, forgetting to heed Castiel's warning about her nature as he approached the table.

"Dean," Blair approved, scanning his form appreciatively. "You've gotten handsome."

"You've gotten sober," he noted. "And have blue hair."

"Don't be the asshole who won't let me live that night down," she grumbled teasingly. "As to the hair color, I began to get recognized. A real shame, too. I really liked the purple."

"It's...nice?"

"Thank God you don't compliment people for a living. Are you going to introduce the guys standing awkwardly behind you?"

"Uh, right, this is my brother Sam and my friend, Castiel," he gestured, facing the two. "Cas is the angel."

"Pleasure to meet you both," Blair announced, smiling lightly.

"How come I never got the nice greeting?" Dean complained.

"You were a bit of a dick, remember? Plus, I need your brother and angel friend to trust that I don't have any sinister intentions. Their protectiveness of you is nearly radiating off of them, if not in aura, then definitely in body language. You should have told them about our conversation, Dean."

"It wasn't a good time."

Blair opened her mouth, but closed it upon catching the meaning in Dean's answer.

"Please, sit down," she offered instead.

Dean wasted no time, sliding in next to Blair.

Sam and Castiel, however, occupied the opposite side rather hesitantly.

"Guys, Blair's not going to hurt you," Dean defended, feeling somewhat irritated at their misgivings. "Seven or so years ago, dad and I were in Colfax, Indiana. We just got done with a job when dad decided to meet up with a few hunters. They were exchanging information about an increase in demonic possessions happening in Louisiana. It was one of the few times I got a night off. I went to a bar, had a few, and on my way to the Impala, saw Blair on the road, a semi truck coming right at her. She was drunk out of her mind, dancing around like an idiot-"

He earned a glare for that.

"-I pulled her out of the way and saved her life. She felt like doing the same and gave me a number to call if I ever needed anything. A few days ago, I finally made that call. Now, neither Michael nor Lucifer are able to possess us. I don't see the harm."

"How are you able to gather the power for this?" Castiel immediately questioned, aiming the mother of all squints at her. "Angels are above-."

"I have special friends with special talents," she answered casually. "One of them owed me a favor and at the eleventh hour, we put our heads together. Simple as that."

"There's always a but with these things," Sam pitched in.

"That is true," she agreed, eyeing him thoughtfully. "What I've done is temporary. I'm not going to hold off the magic forever."

"Magic?"

"Angels aren't the only beings I've...grounded, so to speak," she explained tentatively, facing Dean. "Anything mythical, spiritual, supernatural, or fantastical, I've taken away its juice. It can exist, of course, but if its movements or feeding habits involve magic, they'll be unable to use it. This includes shimmering, teleporting, using spells that otherwise come naturally to them, etcetera and so on. "

"So, basically, you neutered the entire supernatural world," Dean deduced.

"That's a nicer term than circumcising," she mused, a grin threatening to sprout. "Yes, I did."

"So, demons-."

"Either in hell or stuck in their vessels or a black mass unable to possess bodies."

"And any supernatural creature we ever faced?" Sam followed up.

"They are in their most basic form. Take werewolves for example. The lunar cycle holds its own magic that influences the moods and feeding habits of a werewolf. Without that magic, they're just abnormally large dogs running around. Some will even retain their human mind."

"You took away the magic," Castiel clarified with a furrowed brow.

"Briefly suspended it until this whole mess with Lucifer and Michael is worked through. Surely you realize that your grace's abilities is magic in its most powerful form?"

Castiel appeared pensive, not responding for the moment.

"Why don't you keep it this way forever?" Dean demanded. "Do you know how many human lives you'd save from the evil bastards who hunt them for food and fun?"

"I would also be responsible for the genocide of countless races," she reminded candidly. "There would be some creatures - like angels and demons in human bodies - that would be able to handle the complete depletion of magic from the world. Witches too, but they are rather snotty about it. Especially the millennia old ones. Usually because magic hides their true faces. More creatures than not, however, rely on magic for survival and growth. They may not all be your best friends, Dean, but some are pacifists, misunderstood, or important to human sustainability. Eventually, I must return what is inherently theirs. No being should have the right to play God."

"You are uncommonly compassionate for someone who yields so much power," Castiel commented, studying her intensely. "Michael, the archangel, believes you have something to gain from this."

"Michael is a kiss-assing daddy's boy."

Sam released a snort while Dean let loose an unusually loud laugh.

"My actions have lost me the invisibility on everyone's radar I've spent centuries trying to maintain," Blair continued. "When the magic returns, there's going to be a lot of pissed off individuals trying to figure out what happened. I can be as careful as I want, but some will be able to pick on my magic as I try to blend in again. The gain from this isn't mine, but rather Dean's."

Whatever anyone else had to say, it was interrupted by the waitress appearing at the side of their table.

"What can I get you?" she snapped boredly.

"My treat," Blair offered the men, eyes flicking back to the menu. "I'll have the chicken dumpling soup, side of fries, and a water."

The waitress mechanically scribbled the order down.

"What's your special?" Dean asked politely, accepting the menu Blair slid over to him.

Blair briefly tuned out of the conversation, feeling the distinct burn of a set of eyes trained on her. Neutrally, she glanced up.

Castiel, startled at being caught staring, looked down at his lap.

Sighing softly, she studied the angel.

"Does me having more power than your Father, unnerve you?"

Just as quickly, Castiel's head shot up as both eyes narrowed.

"You know Enochian?" he mumbled back.

"I know many languages," was all she said. "Answer my question."

"It is not...natural. I don't know any being - holy or otherwise - that can hold the power you can. Other than my Father."

"Your dad is a complicated man," Blair acknowledged, frowning.

"You have...spoken with him?"

She opened her mouth, but closed it when Dean interrupted.

"Dude, your turn."

"Two cheeseburgers, fries, beer," Castiel ordered distractedly, eyes stuck on her.

The waitress glared at him.

"Our burgers are a pound each and we don't serve liquor."

"You heard him," Blair cut in, ignoring Castiel's focused gaze. "He'll have two, medium-well. Side of fries, extra crispy. He doesn't like when they sag and taste like mush. Side of honey mustard also. He only likes the ketchup on his burger. And it's the end of days, lady, are you really that damn surprised he wants alcohol?"

"We don't have-."

Her sputter was severed once more.

"You've been serving Budweiser on tap all day. If your religious boss wants to debate the ethics of when it's appropriate to drink, drag his ass out here and we'll talk. I guarantee I'm just getting started."

With a barely held back sneer, the waitress stalked away.

"You make friends left and right," Dean approved.

Blair shrugged. "She's been looking for a chance to be rude all day. I'm not in the mood for it."

"How'd you know what Cas liked?"

Sam's voice was bathed in suspicion, but she didn't mind it.

"Intuition. Plus, his thoughts were reflecting a memory of getting particularly soggy fries with ketchup once. He was quite displeased."

"You can read his mind?"

"Not his mind. It's...complicated. And really doesn't matter."

"You are above the spell you cast," Castiel noticed.

"Correct."

"How powerful are you?" Dean questioned.

"Guys!" Blair exclaimed, before lowering her tone. "This is not about power. This is not about trying to figure out what the hell I am. This is about strictly you two. Like I said, this is all temporary. In this brief time we have left, you two need to figure out a plan for Michael and Lucifer. They are human right now. That's an advantage you are not going to get again."

She sounded frustrated and tired all at the same time. The only reason Dean picked up on it was because he'd heard it reflected in his voice too many times as of late.

The brothers met each other's eyes before slowly nodding.

"What are our options?" Sam asked.

"The human Lucifer possessed, am I right in hearing he's dead?"

Dean looked puzzled for a moment.

"Dean shot him in the head in Carthage," Castiel assured.

"Oh...yeah."

Blair mentally took note of his not-quite-pleased tone.

"This is a blessing," she explained helpfully. "In the cage, it will only be Lucifer in the empty body of his vessel."

"Wait...you can return Lucifer to his cage?"

The urge to explain everything was intense, but she shook it off.

"Yes."

They kept staring at her.

"Yes," she insisted again, glancing between the two brothers. "It would be considerably more difficult were he equipped with his grace. But at the moment, he's defenseless."

"You're sure?" Sam demanded once more.

"I'll have to do it within the next six hours. But yes, I'm sure."

Sam slumped back into the booth, blinking with a disbelieving smile on his face.

Dean hid his relief better, though he wasn't entirely unaffected.

"This could all be over," he stated.

"We wouldn't be hunted."

"Worried about some damn angel dicks trying to kill everyone we love."

Blair averted her gaze, recognizing it was a private exchange between the two. But this left her to face Castiel, who switched his focus from the Winchesters to her.

"Do not give them false hope."

"False hope?"

"Yes," he asserted in his native tongue. "Tentatively, you have earned my trust. Should you betray the Winchesters in any way, however, I will not think twice of smiting you."

She observed him for a long moment, giving nothing away from her expression.

When she finally commented, it was said with such easy confidence that Castiel had to fight back the anxiety bubbling around in his vessel's chest.

"Threatening me will not end well for you, Castiel. I may not enjoy playing God, but if a situation calls for it, I will. I will in a way that'll exceed any fears you have ever known. Also, should you ever lift a finger to smite me, I will drag you by your wings, into hell, and throw you inside Lucifer's cage. I've come to gather that is a mutual fear for all angels, is it not?"

Not realizing just how tight he was gripping his knee, Castiel cleared his throat with a cough, relaxing his fingers.

"Such an attempt would be unpredictable," he defended with a calm he couldn't quite muster. "The cage was created to only hold Lucifer."

The corner of Blair's lips turned up, though no trace of amusement could be found in her eyes.

"The cage will hold anyone I deem it," she answered coolly. "I should know. I was the one who built it."

Castiel's eyes widened.

Before he could verbally voice his shock, the waitress was back with their drinks. And Blair's gaze - far less intense - was back on Dean.