Chapter 1: Michael

Golden eyes watched him from the shadows, seemingly floating free of any body but glowing with an inner light. Sam glanced up from his book and sighed, closing it with a satisfying thump before placing it carefully on the table and pushing himself to his feet. He always felt more confident when he was towering over people, and this was one person he truly dwarfed. "Look, you might as well show yourself. I know you're there."

"I intended that you should." The disembodied voice floated around the tall hunter, whispering along his skin before vanishing along with the eyes. They were replaced by the youngest of the four archangels, his blonde form smaller than his brothers' chosen vessels and most of the other gods that Sam had ever met.

He suddenly wanted to know why.

"Gabriel, how big is your true form?"

The smaller man had clearly not anticipated that question, perching on the edge of the nearest chair as he considered the best way to answer. "Generally speaking, the more powerful an angel is and the higher his rank in the Host, the larger his size. When Castiel was just a captain of a garrison, he was larger than your Chrysler building. As a seraph he is approximately three times that size and he has six wings instead of two. He's actually the largest seraph I have ever seen. Archangels are five times the size of the largest seraphs, and we also have six wings, though in our vessels we usually only manifest two."

"Were you all the same size? You, Michael, Lucifer, and Raphael?"

Gabriel shrugged, having not seen any of his brothers' true forms in thousands of years. "We were all pretty similar. Michael was the tallest, but Lucifer was the brightest. Raphael was reasonably similar to Lucifer in size but he liked to flaunt his power more so he was the most likely to expand his grace to fill the halls of Heaven. Me, I enjoyed spending time with my younger siblings, so I spent a great deal of time learning how to control my grace and contain it when I interacted with other celestial beings. I'm not really any smaller than Lucifer, but my wings are much larger. And they're golden where Michael's are white, Raphael's were brown, and Luci's are red."

"If you're the same size as your brothers, why did you choose a much smaller vessel?"

Gabriel's golden eyes widened in shock, the archangel grinning as a smirk lit Sam's face. "You're teasing me, Samsquatch."

"Guilty."

"I'll have you know that this vessel was quite tall when it was originally created! It's also the oldest archangel vessel, whereas you, Dean, and that poor insane man that Raphael used to wear have had thousands of years of evolution to grow bigger. Unlike some of the Norse Gods you met before, I never bothered to change my form as the humans we watched over grew. This vessel has always suited me fine." He slipped off of his chair and took a couple of calculated steps forward, wrapping his arms around Sam's waist as he gazed up into the hunter's shocked green-hazel eyes. "Doesn't it suit you?"

The hunter shifted uncomfortably at that "come fuck me" glow in those bright eyes. It amazed Sam that this man could go from deadly archangel to irresistible sex-kitten in two seconds flat. He found that he liked it, quite a bit more than he ever thought he would from another man. "You're cute when you're flustered," Gabriel purred, running his hands up Sam's bare arms and watching in delight as the hunter tried to lean into the caress before flinching away. He pressed closer to Sam, smirking and leaning up a few inches so his lips could brush against Sam's ear. "As much fun as this is, you need to wake up."

"Wake up?"

"Sam!"

The hunter jerked in shock as he opened his eyes, disoriented, slowly realizing that he was lying in his bed in the bunker, not reading a book in the library or talking to a long-dead archangel. Dean stood by his bed, a mix of concern and supreme annoyance on his face. Clearly he had been trying to wake his brother for a while. Castiel stood in the doorway, clad in his traditional trench coat and near-emotionless almost-smile as he waited for his friend to wake. "Ok, I'm up," Sam grumbled, moving to roll onto his back so he could get out of bed as Dean joined Cas at the door and left the tall hunter alone.

"Don't take long, we have a case today."

Sam waited until his door closed before turning on his bedside light and slipping out of bed. Closing his eyes, he ran through his dream a couple of times, wondering why Gabriel had been on his mind for the first time in half a year. He used to think about him all of the time, wishing that they had taken more time to get to know the archangel-turned-pagan-god, but he had died standing up against Lucifer at Sam and Dean's insistence. "Gabriel," he whispered, his mind on the glowing golden eyes that had so entranced him in his dream. "I'm sorry I haven't prayed in a while; it's been pretty busy over here. We, uh, we saved Dean from the Mark of Cain, but there was an unintended consequence. The Darkness, Amara, was released, and we have to find a way to stop her."

He gathered his clothes and got dressed for the case, trying to decide what else he wanted to say to the late archangel. He remembered the feeling of Gabriel's hands on his arms, at how warm and real it seemed at the time. "I don't know why I keep praying to you, honestly—even Castiel doesn't know where angels go when they die—but I have to hope that you can hear me. I want you to know that I really do miss you, and I wish there was some way you could be here with me now. I'll, uh, try to keep in touch more often, ok?" Sam thought he felt the faintest brush of lips on his ear, but when he reached up to touch the spot there was nothing there. Shrugging, he grabbed his weapons and left.

A pair of golden eyes watched him from the shadows, darkening sadly before disappearing.

"Hey, Cas?"

"Yes, Sam?" The taller hunter had been oddly silent during the first hour of their drive, staring out the window and lost in thought. Dean knew better than to try to get his brother to talk about his feelings, but he was willing to let the angel try.

"What color are the archangels' wings?"

"That's an odd question, Sammy, especially since all of them are dead or locked away."

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, I know, Dean, but I'm curious. Humor me, Cas. Gabriel's wings were gold, right?"

"Yes," the raven-haired angel answered slowly, not doing a very good job of hiding his shock that Sam seemed to know that. "Like most powerful angels, his feathers changed color from the base to the tip, with a honey-gold color fading to a brilliant bright metallic golden shade on the tips. He was hiding his true nature the last time I saw him, so I don't know if leaving Heaven affected them at all. It is unlikely that his wings changed, however."

"And Lucifer?"

"Well, they were golden-orange before he was cast out of Heaven, but now they are red, with a darker burnt color on the tips. Michael's wings are white, but they change color in the light, similar to the flakes of color inside an opal. It is often remarked that he had some of the most beautiful wings in Heaven."

"And Raphael's wings were brown." Sam's voice was confident now, clearly just confirming information that he had received from another source.

"Yes, they were. They were golden brown at the base and a dark walnut shade at the tips. He was very proud of them, despite having the smallest wings of the four archangels. Gabriel—"

"—had the largest," Sam completed, smiling at the angel. "I, uh, found some information on angel wings in the library," he temporized, injecting a small amount of truth into the statement to keep his brother from getting suspicious. "It was mostly speculation since no one has ever seen an archangel's wings."

"No, they wouldn't show them to humans."

Dean glanced at the angel in his rearview mirror, clearing his throat as he tried to figure out the best way to ask Cas something that could be incredibly personal. "Uh, Cas, what about you?"

"What about me what, Dean?"

Dean clenched the wheel tighter, wishing as he frequently did that the raven-haired angel would just understand what he was trying to ask. "What about your wings?"

Castiel raised one eyebrow, blue eyes locking with green in the rearview mirror. "They used to be a dark charcoal black color, but when I died the second time and was elevated to seraph, they gained a deep blue sheen. The shade is not unlike the feathers of a raven, though with more blue undertones in the light." He trailed off at that, not mentioning that now his feathers were too burned and ragged for the color to matter.

"And, of course, you have six of them now," Sam added helpfully, "since you're a seraph." He turned slightly in his seat, remembering something else that dream-Gabriel had mentioned. "Cas, Zachariah was a seraph, too, wasn't he?"

"Yes. So were Hannah, Naomi, Ezekiel, Gadreel, and Bartholomew. Most of the faction leaders that you met or heard of during the civil war were also seraphs."

"Are you bigger than them?"

"Sam! That's a really personal question," Dean scolded, the faintest blush darkening his cheeks. "Maybe you can put that a different way?"

"Dean, I don't understand why that would be a personal question," the angel returned. "I can certainly see why Sam would be curious about my true form. Yes, I am now larger in my true form than any other seraph in the Heavenly Host. I was not originally, but I have grown through my association with you two and through surviving your escapades."

The car fell into a companionable silence after that, Sam staring out the window again as he considered everything that Castiel had confirmed. How had he known all of that about the four archangels and their seraph friend? His hazel eyes widened in shock as he realized that if the information had actually come from Gabriel, there was no way that trickster could have known about Cas becoming a seraph since he died before that happened.

What the hell was going on in his mind?

"I thought this was a simple werewolf case."

"Yes, I did do a rather impressive job of making it look that way, didn't I, Squirrel?"

Dean rolled his eyes as the unrepentant King of Hell lounging in the booth, taking a seat on the opposite side after nudging Cas in first. Sam frowned and pursed his lips, a facial contortion that Dean liked to call Bitchface #4, one that he tended to save for dealings with Crowley. "You actually kill anybody?"

"No, just planted some fake evidence that would make its way back to you. I needed to speak to you about something more important than werewolves, and I thought this conversation should be held in person."

Sam and Dean exchanged a charged glare, Sam sighing as he relented. "What is it, Crowley?"

"Well, Moose, it seems that Lucifer's cage has developed a crack."

"A what now?"

Crowley sighed and took another sip of his mixed drink, eyeing the angel as the brothers placed their orders with the waitress. As soon as she left, he continued. "The powerful and ancient spells that hold Lucifer in his cage were weakened when the Darkness was released. We need to find a way to secure the seals in case the cracks start to spread."

"Has he broken free?"

"No, not yet, but the demons that I set to guard the Cage said they hear whispers. It's not just Lucifer who is trying to break free. They have heard Michael yelling, screaming, and banging against the seals. At least Lucifer doesn't have a vessel down there and only Moose here is strong enough to hold him up top. He may burn out a few human vessels if he gets free, but we should have no problem containing him again."

"Michael has a vessel," Cas replied, his dark voice more ominous than usual. "If he escapes, he will have his full powers, his wings, and his access to Heaven, three things that Lucifer won't. With all of the other archangels dead, Michael would be unstoppable."

"Great," Dean growled, clenching his hand into a fist on the table. "That is exactly what we need right now; a mad archangel who can't be too happy that Sam and I are alive."

"I doubt he would be my biggest fan, either," Crowley admitted. "None of my people know anything about the Cage, but I was hoping you boys with your bunker full of archaic knowledge might have an answer."

Sam nodded. "We can start research immediately. Have you examined the spells that hold the seals in place? Any information will be helpful, especially since the only thing we really ever learned about it was how to throw Lucifer back in."

Crowley nodded. "My demons have taken extensive readings. I can have them compile their reports for you by the end of the day. Shall I meet you here, or do you have a better rendezvous spot?" He watched as the boys exchanged a charged glance, clearly discussing the situation silently between themselves. Cas reached up and placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, frowning and shaking his head.

Sam cleared his throat, ignoring the angel's warning. "Look, I've give you coordinates for the bunker. The warding will prevent you from popping in, but if you knock I'll open the door." Sam pulled out his phone and texted Crowley a set of coordinates, holding one finger up in warning. "You only come over if you have something on Michael or repairing the Cage, okay? I'm serious."

Crowley made an X over his heart with one finger, grinning at the taller brother. "I'll drop by later tonight, Moose, with all the information I have." He finished his drink and dropped a pile of bills on the table, heading outside where he could disappear in private.

"You just invited the King of Hell to stop by the bunker whenever he wants," Cas growled, eyes darkening in fury. "Do you really think that was a good idea?"

"If it means stopping Michael, then yeah," Dean answered, taking Sam's side and downing the rest of his beer. "Let's grab some food while we're here, then we're heading back to the bunker. We have a lot of research to do."

They drove back to the bunker in silence, each of them considering the implications of the failing Cage and mad archangel within. They were all pretty sure that they could keep Lucifer from escaping, but Michael was a new, unexpected problem that they were not prepared to combat. Cas thought back to his oldest brother, to that fury in his blue eyes as he was consumed by holy fire, just moments before Lucifer killed him. Michael had been terrifying when he was in charge of Heaven, but insanity would have made him far worse. Cas could still remember the agonizing punishments he had received at the archangel's hands, and he almost preferred Naomi's mind control to Michael's violence.

"Cas, what are we looking at here with Michael? We only met him a couple of times, and we never fought him directly."

"You can't fight him directly, Sam. No matter what Lucifer thought of his odds at the battle in Stull Cemetery, there was no chance that Michael was going to lose that fight. He was always the strongest of us, and the entire Heavenly Host would not be able to stand against him."

"Then what can we do?"

"Lock him back in the cage. That's our only hope to avoid his fury."

"Geez, Cas, could you sound any more pessimistic?"

Cas tilted his head and met Dean's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Would you prefer that I lie? Dean, he hates you for refusing to be his vessel, he hates me for that Holy Fire Molotov, and he hates Sam for overcoming Lucifer long enough to throw both of them into the Cage. If angels had hit lists, we would be on his. We would be his."

Dean raised one eyebrow at the seraph. "So, when he gets free, we're his targets."

"Yes, most certainly."

"Well, what can we do to stop him from breaking out?"

Sam sat up straighter in his seat, his face lighting up as an idea blossomed in his mind. "The Book of the Damned. I'll bet there's something in there having to do with the Cage."

"Yeah, but only Rowena can read that, and she's long gone."

"Then we'll find her, Dean. And we'll convince her that she should help us prevent the two architects of the Apocalypse from getting out of the Cage."

Dean shrugged. "Well, it's more of a plan than Crowley had. As soon as we get back, we'll start searching for our wayward witch."

The impala pulled up to the bunker, a tremor shaking the ground as they reached the garage. Dean exchanged a confused glance with his brother before parking the car and heading back outside, raising one hand to shield his eyes as he looked into the forest outside of the bunker. Gesturing for his companions to follow him, he checked his weapons before they headed into the trees. He could hear a high-pitched whine coming from somewhere in those trees, riding a fierce wind and emphasized by infrequent tremors.

"Dean, we should go back."

The hunter looked over his shoulder at the angel, pausing for a moment as he considered the warning. "Cas, this is right on top of the bunker. Nothing should be able to find us here, so we need to make sure that we aren't in any danger from whatever this is."

Cas summoned his angel blade and held it up, his blue eyes hardening into that warrior façade that he had worn when he first started working with the hunters. Dean actually hesitated at that, wondering if the angel's defensive actions should encourage him to turn back. Sam drew his gun and nodded toward his brother, waiting for Dean to lead them into the trees.

Dean marched forward, pausing every time he felt a tremor. "They're getting stronger. These don't feel like earthquakes."

"They aren't," Cas replied ominously. The three men entered a large clearing as another tremor shook the ground, the wind slowing as darkness fell around them. The angel moved to stand in front of the hunters, his eyes glowing with grace as an ominous shudder passed through him.

"Cas, what the hell is going on here?"

"I am not sure, Dean," the angel growled back, his blade in one hand and his other held out to the side defensively as he tried to stay in front of the hunter. Sam, his gun at the ready and an angel blade in his belt, hovered at the edge of the trees, struggling to see into the gloom. The ground shook again, Dean spreading his legs wider to keep his balance. A bright light filled the clearing and Castiel gasped, reaching back to grab Dean's arm. "We have to go, now." For the first time since the angels fell, Cas cursed his burnt wings and weakened powers. Now, more than ever, he needed to be able to send Dean and Sam far away; anywhere would be safer than this clearing.

He flared his grace as the trees in front of them exploded, protecting the hunters from any shrapnel while he prepared to face the angel he knew was coming. He felt his grace fade slightly as a greater force pushed against him, a tall form appearing in the shadows. He shook his head in disbelief as a pair of furious glowing eyes met his, the eyes he had last seen consumed by Holy Fire. "Michael," he whispered.

"What?!" Dean turned to face the archangel, still wearing his half-brother as a vessel, stepping closer to Cas as he reached for his own angel blade. He sensed Sam move into a fighting stance further back, though neither of them had any idea what they could do against a crazed archangel.

"Oh look, it's the fallen angel Castiel," Michael hissed, flaring his grace and pushing against Cas with it. The seraph glanced at the hunters behind him, gripping his blade tighter as he faced the archangel and his fury.

"Dean, you need to get Sam out of here." His steady, commanding tone had a franticness that Dean had never heard before, and it terrified him.

"What? Cas!"

The raven-haired seraph flared his grace again and rushed toward Michael, slashing at his oldest brother and forcing him back a step. He hoped that he could keep the archangel occupied long enough for the hunters to escape, banking on the fact that Michael probably hated him more than Dean or Sam. Michael reached out and grabbed Cas's shoulder, shoving him to his knees and forcing him to bury his grace or risk being burned out. "I'm going to rip you to shreds," Michael growled, sending a shock of grace through the younger angel and grinning as he screamed.

"CAS!" He struggled against the darkness that began to cloud his vision as Dean's hand wrapped around his arm, then he felt the archangel teleport them all away.