Dean blinked in shock. Many shocks, actually. He was still reeling from Bobby's new (at least, new to himself) handicap. And news of some of his closest friends' deaths weren't helping. But the biggest shock was that he was no longer standing beside Sammy in Bobby's house. He was in a bright, small room. The walls were painted with detailed murals, and a grand fireplace was against one wall. Dean turned and saw a short man with receding hair smiling back.

"You must be confused," the man stated.

Dean nodded, at a loss for words. "Yeah."

"My name's Zachariah." Zachariah extended his hand. Dean made no move to shake it.

"You're an angel."

Zachariah frowned, letting his hand fall to his side. "And you're a Winchester. We both need each other's help. I think we can make a deal."

Dean eyed him cautiously. "What kind of deal?"

Zachariah folded his hands. "I'm sure you and your brother are confused, being alive and all. But let me put this as simply as I can: Heaven and Hell are at war."

"Yeah," Dean muttered, "I got that much. But what do you need from me?"

Zachariah raised his hand. "I was just getting there. You see, having Lucifer on the run is bad. And the only one who can kill him is Michael. But Michael needs a vessel. One that can be strong enough to contain him. . . ." Zachariah took a few slow steps forward.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Me?"

"Any Winchester, really. But you're preferred."

"So I'm suppose to willingly become Michael's vessel?"

The angel before him shrugged. "Well, that would be easy."

"And what if I say no? You can't force me."

"Well," the angel replied darkly, "we'll just ask your brother instead."

"Any Winchester," Dean muttered under his breath. "Sam wouldn't—"

Dean was interrupted by a low rumbling. The room began to shake, and Zachariah looked concerned.

"What? You don't get earthquakes up here?"

Zachariah looked at Dean—or rather, somewhere behind Dean—and his eyes went wide. The room began to glow with intense bright light, before it was impossible for Dean to keep his eyes open any longer. The last thing Dean was aware of before he lost consciousness was a familiar hand on his shoulder.

"He can't have gone far," Bobby reassured.

Sam kept his eyes trained on his laptop's screen, looking for anything to show for his brother's disappearance. "If that was an angel or a demon, he could be halfway around the world by now. Or maybe not even on this world." Bobby sighed. The kid had a point. He watched as Sam furiously typed away. Letting out a sigh of aggravation, Sam slammed the laptop shut. "It's no use. He's gone."

"We'll just have to wait," Bobby decided.

Sam turned to him accusingly. "Fill me in."

"What?"

"Fill me in on what happened while Dean and I were gone. What happened to our friends."

Bobby looked tired. Sam felt distantly sorry for dogging his surrogate father, but he needed answers.

"Two months ago," Bobby began, "we tracked down where Lucifer was hiding. His current vessel was growin' weak, and he needed . . . well, he needed a Winchester."

"What?" asked Sam in confusion.

Bobby went on. "Somethin' about the Winchester bloodline—it makes you able to withstand being Lucifer or Michael's vessel."

"Back up," Sam said slowly, raising a hand. "Michael?"

"He's the only one who can smite Lucifer. But he needs you or Dean or Adam—" Bobby stopped suddenly. Sam waited patiently for Bobby to gain his bearings. "We tried to stop him. He killed Jo and Ellen first—then he took Adam."

"And your legs?" Sam asked hesitantly.

Bobby took a deep breath. "Lucifer has an inner circle of workers—his most trusted allies. Not all are demons; some are humans or rebelling angels. They do anything from spying to dirty work. There's only a handful, but you don't wanna mess with them." Bobby left the rest to Sam's imagination.

Sam rubbed at his eyes. "Bobby, I'm so—"

"So what?" Bobby snapped. "Sorry? What are you sorry for, Sam? Setting Lucifer free? Dying? Screwing up again?"

Sam casted his eyes downward, accepting his lecture. "Yeah. All that and more."

Bobby shook his head slowly. "I'll help you find Dean, but when this is all over," Bobby warned, "I don't ever want to see you here again."

"I—" Sam stopped himself from saying sorry again. Apologizing would get him nowhere. "Okay."

Dean gasped and bolted upright, quickly shaking the sleep off of him. He was on the ground somewhere. Looking around, he observed a barren room. Its lone window had the shades drawn, and the only door was closed. The walls were unpainted, and the wooden floor creaked with Dean's every move.

"You're awake."

Dean turned around, facing the origin of the low voice. "Cas," he breathed in relief. "Bobby said you were dead."

"I was." Castiel was leaning against the wall, coldly regarding Dean. "Like you, I am unaware of my sudden resurrection."

"I know who brought me and Sam back," Dean stated, rising to a standing position. "It was this guy named Crowley."

This stirred a reaction in the angel. He took a step forward. "Dean, you can't trust him."

"Story of my life," Dean mumbled. "He just wants me and Sam to kill Lucifer. He even gave us the Colt—"

"The Colt's useless, Dean."

Dean was a moment away from asking how Castiel knew, but he found himself asking a more important question. "Where are we?"

"A safe house. I cannot tell you where."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Great. So you kidnapped me?"

"I saved you from Lucifer's followers."

"Great, because I can't hold off a few Satanists."

The sarcasm only seemed to make Castiel more irritated. "These aren't just some killers, Dean. They're assassins, and they're deadly. They killed Jo and Ellen, and what they did to Bobby and your brother—"

"Adam." Dean accepted the fact that Lucifer's goons were bad news, especially if they managed to take down four of the best hunters he's ever known and an angel. But hearing Castiel say his brother's name struck a chord inside him. "Bobby said he's dead."

Castiel frowned. "Adam is not dead, Dean. He's gone."

Dean felt his heart flutter. Adam wasn't dead. "What do you mean, 'gone'? He's not dead, right, Cas?"

"No," admitted Castiel begrudgingly. "He's worse."

Heeeeeeyyyyyoooooo everyone! Oof, what a cliffy? What do you think happened to Adam?

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting, but I should be able to update weekly from now on.

Reviews and comments are awesome, guys! I LOVE reading what you guys have to say!

~palmtreedragons