So it's been a while, again. I'm sorry, I just seem to be finding it harder and harder to write. I'm hoping to force myself back into it though.

This chapter is dedicated to everyone who is patiently sticking with me.

Enjoy ^_^

Sam pulled into the first motel he saw just before noon. He'd been around the whole city twice and the impala wasn't in any motel parking lot. He'd been into liquor stores and bars but nobody had seen his brother. So Sam checked into a room and pulled out his laptop and found the page about Reymes, he cracked open a beer and took a swig. His head was throbbing slightly, had been for the past few hours. Sleep deprivation probably, but he wasn't tired, and he didn't think it was strange. As he scanned the page, looking for any clues as to Reymes' address, he scrolled through the pictures but had Abbadon on his mind. He was angry at Dean for this distraction, his brother had dragged him all over the country and Sam wanted to complete the demon trials dammit! He just wanted to get hold of a demon and force feed it his blood until it was no longer a demon and the gates of Hell closed and he died. Was that too much to ask?

'Jeez, my life sucks' he muttered to himself and he ran a hand through his hair. He checked the time on the bottom of the screen and cursed. Even though he still had hours to go, Dean was probably over at Reymes' and barricading him in layers of salt and goofer dust, telling him to sit tight and being unnecessarily rude about it. Sam scrolled back through the pictures but didn't recognise the part of town that seemed to be Reymes' home. He squinted at the screen, shut the laptop and stretched as he stood. His new plan was to drive around aimlessly until he spotted either the impala or Reymes' house.

It took him just under an hour to find the car. Sleek and beautiful, parked outside a mansion type that looked like a very likely candidate, plus those gates were familiar. He pulled up behind the impala and slammed the door. He pressed the buzzer on the gate and flashed an FBI badge.

'I'm afraid' came a pompous, female voice 'that Mr Reymes' is not available at all today, but I would be happy to arrange a time that would be appropriate...'

'Listen lady, I'm not here for Reymes and I'm not in the mood. I'm looking for my brother, who is currently barricading your boss inside his room, am I wrong?' There was a pause, then the buzzer went and Sam marched inside and straight upstairs, ignoring the sound of indignity that came from the woman in the sharp, grey suit.

'Dean!' He yelled 'Dean!' he heard a scuffling and a bang and an 'ow' before Dean's head popped out of the second door on the right

'Sammy? Hey, I guess you finally caught up with me then' he said, then he stepped out and jerked his head to the direction he came from 'seeing as you're here, I could use your help' he said. Stuffing a handful of Devil's shoe string over the door frame. 'I've already salted the windows in this room, and put goofer dust around the closet door. But the more layers of defence we have, the better. Sammy, I'm gonna need you to stay in here, protect the closet! Reymes is in a circle of salt and another ring of goofer dust around the walls and he's got an iron poker but I doubt he'll know how to use it.' He chucked Sam a shotgun which he caught deftly.

'I'm not here to help you, Dean' he said, confused. Had Dean hit his head really hard?

'Yeah, I know, Sam. You're here to drag me back to the bunker, kicking and swearing and let you go off on a suicide mission to find and kill slash cure Abbaddon, but that's not happening so make yourself useful instead and guard the douche.' He left the room with a handful of herbs and a bag of salt and Sam could hear him yelling to the woman Patricia.

XXX

Dean knew that Patricia wasn't in immediate danger from the hell-hound but he didn't want her to end up becoming collateral. He shoved the Devil's shoe string under the stairs after she had flounced up them with tutting and lots of glares, picking out her own place to hunker down, and secured it with a line of salt. It wouldn't hold the hell-hound for long, but maybe long enough for him to kill it. He was ignoring the twisting of his gut. He knew that there was no going back now. He had committed to this, and he would see it through, whatever it took. Nervously, he checked his watch. It was just after three. He still had a good few hours to piss away. He'd only gotten here so early was because he was edgy and hadn't known what else to do. He thought about Sam, he would have to face the consequences of that later. And he'd have to find Abbaddon before Sam did, he was relying on Crowley to keep the rest of his minions away. The thought of relying on Crowley for anything tasted sour.

'Screw this, I need a drink' he said aloud to no one before unlocking the doors and striding off towards the impala. Sam could hold down the fort for a few hours, he wouldn't let Reymes or Patricia leave which meant that he wouldn't be able to leave either. Dean smirked as he got into his baby and started the engine. Imagining his brother's face when he realised that Dean had just up and gone. Again.

XXX

Castiel appeared in the impala again, and Dean didn't even flinch. He just glanced sideways and chuckled.

'Dude, you look how I feel'

Castiel stared out the window and frowned

'Where are we going?'

'To the nearest bar. First round's on me.'

Castiel nodded

'Fair enough'

'So where have you been?' Dean asked with another look into the passenger seat.

'Contemplating'

'What?'

'Metatron is a liar.' Castiel burst out 'He told me to cut the heart out of a Nephilim, an innocent girl with no control over her parentage, he said that that was the first trial, that it was the beginning to closing the gates of Heaven and forcing our family to sort things out. But he lied to me!'

'Whoa, wait a second, take a breath. What's a Nephilim again?'

Castiel took a breath. It was calming.

'A Nephilim is an abomination.' He explained 'The offspring of an angel and a human.'

'Wait... That can happen? I thought you were all ... you know.' He cleared his throat 'Pure ... and stuff'

'It's rare' Castiel conceded 'very rare, and highly looked down upon. I mean, just making friends with a human was why I was cast out in the first place so to actually ...' he coughed awkwardly and glanced to his left 'angels don't reproduce' he finished firmly 'It's unnecessary, plus, all angels are siblings so ...'

'Yeah, I get it, you don't wanna go all Lannister.' Dean said, nodding. Castiel frowned

'I don't-'

'Didn't expect you to.'

'Right. Well. When God told us to love you more than Him, physically was not what he meant.'

'Huh.' Dean huffed and pulled the car over, outside a run down bar on the corner of 5th and Main.

'You get us a table, and I'll get us the drinks. Then you can tell me the rest.'

Castiel slid into a booth near the door and waited while Dean ordered. He watched him at the bar and fidgeted with the sleeve of his coat, shifting around every few minutes, almost as if he were nervous. He didn't settle until Dean placed a bottle of beer in front of him and sat opposite.

'So Metatron told you to kill this Nephilim?' he said, encouraging Castiel to continue.

'Yes.' He affirmed 'But I-' he stopped and looked down at his beer. He took a sip just to keep busy and nearly choked. The liquid was bitter and unpleasant and Dean chuckled at his reaction. 'I didn't want to.'

'I thought you said it was an abomination?'

'It was a girl, Dean. A waitress in Eugenie's, she's never hurt anyone or done anything wrong and I was supposed to rip her heart out, just because she happens to exist?'

'I take it you didn't...'

Castiel shook his head.

'I couldn't' he said. 'I kept thinking about what you'd say if you saw me considering it. How angry you'd be.' Dean inclined the neck of his beer towards the angel and smiled

'You know me well'

'Yes. Which is another troubling matter altogether.' Dean frowned at him but Castiel didn't elaborate. Instead he said

'I went to Kevin. I needed to know that it was necessary to kill the girl, that it was the only way.'

'I'm guessing it wasn't'

'No. There was nothing about Nephilim in the trials. So I went to Metatron and confronted him and he admitted that it wasn't the trials but a spell to the same end.'

'Why wouldn't Metatron just follow the trials?'

'I don't know.' Castiel admitted. 'He said because it would be more difficult to undo but...' he shrugged.

'Maybe you should ask Kevin to translate the real trials?' Dean suggested

'That would take time we don't have. You're close to completing the first of the demon trials' he felt a huge spike of something unpleasant in his stomach at those words. 'We can't hang around Earth for much longer than they do. Once the demons are gone, the angels will turn on humans next, or each other without anyone to guide them.'

'They're doing that anyway.' Dean said, Castiel noticed the he didn't look directly at him as he spoke. 'Talk to Kevin, it can't hurt to at least get an extra pair of eyes on this thing. I don't know how long it'll take to complete these trials but probably longer now that Sam is on my case.' He stared deeply into his beer as if it contained a solution to his problems. Castiel frowned, something wasn't right, he thought. Dean was leaving something out.

'What?' the hunter said, catching his gaze

'Something's wrong' the angel said, staring at him. Dean laughed.

'No shit'

'Something about the trials.'

'It ain't easy ganking a hell-hound you know'

'Don't lie to me, Dean.'

'I'm not.'

'What have you done?' Castiel insisted

'Nothing!' Dean said, slamming his beer down 'dude, what is up with you? What's gotten you so paranoid?' Castiel glared at him, he could feel it, a ... a shiftiness emanating from the hunter. He took another breath, and held his eyes, Dean broke first. 'You're imagining things, Cas.' he said, taking another drink. 'I'm peachy. Oh yeah, aside from the fact that I'm going to die saving my brother. Again. Always fun.'

'And the world' Castiel said 'You're going to save the world too, once you complete the trials and purge the demons'

'Yeah, whatever.' he drained the last of his beer and motioned to the bartender for another, 'I still ain't going back to Heaven, crap I've done.'

'Why do you say that?' Castiel said, grabbing hold of Dean's sleeve across the table 'You've done more for Heaven than most angels.' The blue eyes searched the green, there was guilt in there, more than usual, but a resolution there too. Dean wasn't going to talk, at least not to him, not now. Castiel let go and sat back. 'You won't go back to Hell, Dean' he said. 'I promise you that.' He raised the beer to his lips and drank. Ignoring the guilt that rushed through him at the words, more guilt than he should feel for an empty promise, but he meant to keep it. Whether it turned out that way, he couldn't know.

So ... what do you think?

Please let me know, reviews mean so much to me!

Love Tibbins xx