A/N: We're in for a long one here: 12 chapters! And once again, huge thanks to 29Pieces for beta reading and for the awesome cover art!

Chapter 1

Dean pulled the Impala into the bunker's garage and parked her next to the Continental. He'd never cared for the clunker, but even Cas had been neglecting it recently in his mission to track down Gabriel. Apparently the archangel wasn't answering any angel radio calls.

Dean, Sam, and Ryn had just come from a lead—albeit slim one—in North Cove, Washington where a tracking spell by Rowena had detected an echo of Gabriel's signature. But a look around the area hadn't revealed anything weird, and they'd had to head home empty handed.

"Yeah," Sam said into his phone as they climbed out of the car. "We just pulled into the garage."

There was a flutter of wing beats, and Cas and Amy appeared. Cas hung up his phone.

"What'd Heaven say?" Dean asked.

Cas shook his head in frustration. "That they still have no idea where he is. He's been missing for weeks and they're all just…adrift. Or falling back into old patterns."

That didn't sound good. Angels left to their own devices tended to get a little uppity.

"Maybe he just needed a vacation," Dean said. "He'll probably pop in with some mimosas and those little umbrellas."

The others didn't say anything, and Dean knew it was a lame theory. Maybe the old Gabriel would have disappeared like this, but not now. Not with a niece he adored and a brother he'd reconciled with. Unfortunately, they'd exhausted their resources in trying to find the wayward archangel. If Gabriel didn't want to be found, there was nothing they could do about it.

"Let's take a day and then try coming up with something else tomorrow," Dean said.

He got a few half-hearted shrugs in response, and the five of them made their way inside, footsteps heavy with discouragement tromping down the stairs. At the bottom, Cas suddenly stiffened.

"Wait—"

A blinding flash of light exploded throughout the war room. Dean reared back and threw his arm up to shield his eyes. When the nova faded, he jerked his head around in search of what the hell just happened—and noticed there was suddenly only three of them.

"Cas?" Ryn called in alarm.

Dean spun. "Amy!"

They were both gone. And several men armed with guns were pouring out of the corridors and surrounding them. Dean's hand instinctively went for the gun at his back, but the clicking off of safeties drew him up short. What the hell…these guys were in combat gear. All except for one who was standing up on the library landing next to the smoldering remains of an angel banishing sigil. He was wearing a suit, with brown hair smoothed back, and was wrapping a bandage around his palm.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean snapped.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he said with a posh accent. "Name's Arthur Ketch. We're with the British Men of Letters."

Dean's jaw slackened. "I'm sorry, the what?"

"Men of Letters?" Sam repeated dubiously.

"British," this Ketch guy corrected. He drew a pistol from his jacket and aimed it at Ryn.

Dean's eyes widened in horror when he realized it was the Colt. The bastard had gone through his room.

"Don't try anything, my dear," Ketch said. "I realize there's only one bullet in the chamber, but I assure you, I'm an excellent shot." He glanced at Dean and Sam. "So if you would all please surrender."

"What for?" Dean demanded as the goon squad moved forward and started handcuffing them. He struggled on principle, but they were sorely outnumbered and outgunned.

Ryn looked ready to light something on fire, amber flickers dancing in her irises, but with the Colt aimed directly at her, she kept herself still as she was restrained. Dean figured she could burn through the metal at some point later, though.

"Listen," Sam started, "if you're Men of Letters, so are we."

Ketch's lip curved upward in disdain. "I find that hard to believe. But you'll get your chance to explain back at headquarters." He nodded to one of the men, who pulled out a syringe of something gray and viscid.

The guy strode up to Ryn and plunged it into the side of her neck. She let out a startled gasp and then doubled over with a strangled cry.

"Hey!" Dean shouted, and tried to lunge, but with his hands already cuffed behind his back, there wasn't much he could do. He watched the gray creep out in veins down Ryn's neck before turning red hot. Another scream tore from her throat and her legs buckled, but the men held her up in their relentless grips and started hauling her toward the stairs.

Dean and Sam were manhandled up the steps as well. Once outside, Ketch radioed for vehicles to come in for pickup. Dean caught a glimpse of black SUVs rumbling down the drive, and then hoods were thrown over their heads. A few moments later, he was flung haphazardly into the back of a vehicle. Sam's unwieldy limbs landed next to him, a knee almost clipping his jaw. He couldn't tell if Ryn was tossed in with them, but there was the sound of a door slamming shut, and then they started moving.

Dean twisted and turned as gravel crunched under tires, but there was nothing he could do as they were carted away from their home.

Amy spiraled through the ether, knocked back and forth in its currents under the force of the unexpected shockwave that had slammed her into space in the first place. Her wings flapped frantically, trying to gain some purchase, but the gales buffeted her around and around. Something tore, but she didn't have the breath to scream. And then she was spat out like a comet breaking the troposphere. Wind rushed around her for a brief second before she collided with something solid, and there was a resounding crack as it gave beneath her weight and momentum. Finally, she landed in some bushes under a shower of splinters and dirt.

For a moment she lay there, dazed, stars dancing across her vision and tingles running up and down her skin. She blinked furiously, blurred smudges slowly taking the shapes of tree branches and a mottled sky. The scent of wet earth and grass filled her nostrils.

Groaning, Amy started to push herself upright onto her elbows. She was surrounded by trees—save for the one she'd apparently crashed through, the trunk snapped clean in half. She had no idea where she was, though, or what had happened. One minute she'd been going downstairs in the bunker, and the next she'd been ripped into the ether.

She craned her neck around; she was alone. Amy staggered to her feet and spread her wings, intending to fly home, but her left wing twinged and she doubled over with a gasp of pain. Oh, that wasn't good. She closed her eyes and reached out with her grace to inspect the damage. It wasn't broken, but she definitely wouldn't be flying on it. And she wouldn't be healing it, either, as her grace was tingling with pins and needles from whatever had assaulted her.

She turned in a slow circle, hoping someone would come trampling through the underbrush after her. But it was silent. Even the wildlife had been scared off by her crash landing.

Amy dug into her jacket pocket for her phone, and her heart almost stuttered at the cracked screen, but when she pressed the home button, it lit up. She nearly sagged.

She dialed her dad first, since he could fly to her location to get her. But he didn't answer his phone—it didn't even ring, but went straight to voicemail. Amy bit her lip and tried her mom next. The line rang and rang before also being redirected. She called Dean, and finally Sam. But no one was answering.

Her heart rate ratcheted up. What was going on? Where were they? Had they somehow been caught in what had blown her from the bunker? But that didn't make sense. That kind of thing was usually for something like an angel banishing sigil…

Her stomach lurched. Who would have used that? And they'd been in the bunker…

Amy cycled through calling everyone again, pleading for someone, anyone, to pick up. They didn't.

Tears pricked at her eyes, but she forced herself to take a deep breath and start moving. Her first few steps stumbled through the tangle of bushes as she waded free of them, and then she turned in a half circle again, having no idea which way to go. Her pulse was fluttering with panic, so she picked a direction and quickened her pace. It could have been five minutes or twenty, but she eventually stumbled out of the forest onto a highway. There was a road sign a ways down, and she squinted at it. Her eyes blew wide. She wasn't even in Kansas anymore.

She tested her wing again out of desperation, and bit back a whimper when the strained muscles quailed. Okay, think. If she had been blasted away by a banishing sigil…then her dad was, too. Which would have left the others under attack from…someone. She needed to get home, find out what was happening.

Clutching her phone in a white-knuckled grip, Amy tried another number. This one picked up at the second ring.

"Hey, kid. What's up?"

"Claire- Claire, I need help," Amy gushed.

"Whoa," she replied with instant seriousness. "What's going on? Start from the beginning."

Amy swallowed. "I think- I think I got hit with an angel banishing sigil. One minute I was home and the next I was crashing into some forest. I sprained my wing and I can't fly, and no one's answering their phones. Dad probably got banished, too. But that means there was an intruder at the bunker and no one's answering their phones!"

"Okay, take a breath," Claire responded, sounding much more calm than Amy felt the situation warranted. "Where are you?"

"I don't know."

"Amy, think. Your phone's working. Can you pull up your GPS?"

She started at the suggestion, and immediately chastised herself. Why hadn't she thought of that?

"Uh, okay, hang on." She fumbled with the buttons to pull up the menu while keeping the call open, and found the Maps app. "Um, Brighton County." Looking up, Amy scanned the highway up and down. "I'm near road marker 88 on highway 20."

There was silence on the other end save for some button pushing. "Okay," Claire said a moment later. "I can be there in less than an hour. Sit tight. And don't get into any vehicles with strange guys!"

Amy bit her lip. She had no intention of doing that, though she wasn't afraid of human men, either…normally. But with her wing sprained and her family unreachable, she was feeling a touch of paranoia.

"Please hurry," she whispered before hanging up.

Casting one last glance up and down the road, Amy turned and slunk back toward the tree line where she'd hopefully be out of sight of any passing motorists, but she'd be able to see Claire's car coming when she finally got there.

Amy wrapped her arms around herself and slid down to rest her back against a tree trunk. She looked at the time on her phone. One hour. That's how long she'd have to wait, alone and cut off. Worry tightened her gut, and she tried calling her family again. She did that repeatedly until the lines stopped ringing altogether, as though they'd been turned off.

Or destroyed.

Her dad's phone never rang at all.

Amy drew her knees up and hugged them to her chest as the sun inched a fraction across the sky. Occasionally a truck and car passed on the highway, speeding by without even noticing her.

She finally caught sight of a red vehicle approaching, and lurched to her feet. Amy hung back long enough to make sure it was Claire before she staggered onto the open road.

The car pulled over and drew to a stop, and Claire leaped out. "Hey, you okay?"

Amy shook her head. No, no she was not okay. "I can't reach anyone."

Claire's lips thinned. "Me neither. Come on." She turned back, and Amy scrambled into the passenger seat. Claire put the car in drive, and pulled back onto the highway.

"So you didn't see what happened at all?" she pressed.

"No." Amy wrung her hands in her lap. "Dad might have. He stopped and tried to say something, but then there was this bright flash and I was being thrown through the ether."

Claire let out a low breath. "Okay, so when we get to the bunker, we go in expecting hostiles." She flicked a look at Amy. "You got a weapon on you?"

She nodded, and drew her angel blade from the ethereal plane. The silver of the blade and winged cross-guard glinted in the afternoon sun, and she steeled herself for going into a real fight, and not just training.

It was less than an hour that they arrived at the bunker—with the way Claire drove. There was no sign of anything amiss from the outside as they pulled up and parked in front of the entrance. They exchanged a look, and then exited the car and cautiously made their way to the door. Amy fitted her key in the lock and winced as the heavy slab of metal grated open with a screech. So much for stealth.

Claire had her Grigori sword in one hand and a pistol in the other, and swept inside. Amy quickly followed, pulse hammering.

The war room was empty. Claire moved forward earnestly but guardedly, clearing one of the side corridors. Amy ventured toward the library, and pulled up short. Sure enough, there was the remains of a smoldered angel banishing sigil on the wall.

Amy caught Claire's eye and cocked her head toward it. Claire nodded in acknowledgement, and they started into the library. Nothing looked out of place, no signs of a struggle. Amy wanted to call out, but bit her lip to keep from doing so.

A scuffing sound in the back hallway had her whirling toward it, angel blade raised. And then her brows shot upward as Castiel strode out. "Dad!"

"Amy!" He rushed forward and threw his arms around her. Some of the air whooshed out of her lungs, but she clung back just as fiercely. He abruptly pulled back. "Are you all right? I was so worried when you didn't come back to the bunker."

"I sprained my wing," she explained, looking him over as well. His tie was askew and coat rumpled. "But no one was answering their phone."

Castiel's jaw ticked. "Mine broke in my landing. I'm sorry. I would have come, but I didn't know where to look for you."

"It's okay," she hurried to assure him. "I called Claire and she came to pick me up."

He looked over to her and gave a grateful nod.

Claire nodded in return and looked around. "What happened? You and Amy got banished…where're Sam and Dean?"

Castiel's eyes hardened. "I don't know. When I made it back, everyone was gone." He shook his head in frustration. "I searched the entire bunker. It appears they were taken. But I have no idea by who, or how they would have gotten in here in the first place."

Amy twisted around to scan the invisible warding on the walls. "That doesn't make sense; these wards guard against everything."

Her dad gave her a grave look. "I got a glimpse right before we were banished…and I'm fairly certain they were human."

Her brow furrowed. "What?" Human? How was that possible?

"They could have been hired by some supernatural baddies," Claire put in. "You guys are pretty hard to get to."

Amy's chest constricted. "But why take them?"

Claire set her weapons on the table. "I don't know. But we can ask once we find them."

Amy couldn't help but glance at her father. Where did they even start? But his expression was pinched and his eyes pained.

"Hey," Claire said, giving them both a resolute look. "We will get them back."

Amy lifted her chin and nodded. She wasn't alone. Somehow, someway, they were going to find the rest of her family.