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I BET YOUR LIFE

I should've left. I should've left days ago. Now it was too late. It was too late, and Sam was dead. My eyes were locked on Dean, I could feel my shoulders trembling.

"What is it, Mil?" Dean demanded. "What's going on?"

"Sam, he's..." my voice sounded hollow. "He's gone."

"What do you mean, gone?" Dean asked harshly. He pushed past me and entered the otherwise deserted room. "Sam?! Sammy?"

"I mean, he's vanished," I said, sitting down on my bed inside the motel. My heart weighed a thousand pounds, and I couldn't stand any more.

"What do you mean?" Dean repeated crossly, staring wide eyed around the room. "Who did this? Demons?"

I shook my head grimly. I clenched my jaw and looked away. "It's a long story."

Dean's eyes flashed. "Well then you'd better start freaking telling it!"

I sighed, deliberating the best way to start the tale. Dean was not gonna be happy at all. In fact, I was bracing myself for yelling and screaming.

Grimacing, I began to unbutton my shirt and pulled it off my right shoulder, exposing scarred skin.

The pale-faced Dean gasped. "You have the same mark as me, Mil," he stated, staring at the imprinted shape of a handprint on my shoulder. Dean's fingers prodded his shoulder, where his own handprint was hidden.

Yeah, but that wasn't the point I wanted to make. I pulled my shirt down further, revealing the mark just below that. Seraphiel's flame was faded now, covered by what had been a skin graft that Castiel had since healed, but still pulsed angry and red.

"What is that?" Dean asked.

"It's the mark of the angel who brought me back," I replied quietly.

"But... I thought you said it was Cas," Dean spluttered. "You told me it was Cas. That's not Cas."

I shook my head grimly. "No." I wish.

Dean's expression was caught somewhere between confusion and anger. "I'm sorry, what does this have to do about getting Sam back?"

I gave him a bleak look. "Everything, Dean. Have you heard of an angel called Seraphiel?"

"No."

"Neither had I," I murmured. "Until he brought me back."

"Who is he?" Dean demanded. He was perched on the edge of a dining chair, leaning forward intently.

"Seraphiel was... is... a Lucifer loyalist," I explained darkly.

Dean glared, filling in the blanks on his own. "Son of a bitch."

"He brought me back because he wants Sam..." I hesitated, unwilling to spit out exactly why, though I knew I had to.

"Why?" Dean demanded.

I knew it was coming. I felt physically sick. "He wants Sam's... body to complete a ritual. To, basically, bring Lucifer back from the cage. So that he can... walk the earth again. Apocalypse II."

"He can do that?" Dean demanded. He looked almost scared at the thought of going through a second Apocalypse - a repeat of the event that almost broke him. "Son of a bitch."

"I suppose he can," I muttered, looking away. "That's why I didn't return to you guys immediately. Because I was running from him, trying to keep him away from Sam, so that that can't happen." And I'd failed. Because now he had Sam, and it was all my fault. If Sam was dead...

"Then why are you back now?" It was blunt to the point of harsh, and I winced, but I understood where he was coming from.

"I killed him. I swear I killed him. I saw him dead," I said desperately, as if trying to convince myself at the same time. "I swear I saw him dead on the floor of that warehouse."

"Well clearly he's not," Dean snapped.

"He came to me a few days ago," I explained. "He faked his own death somehow." Dean's expression turned murderous. Flames burning in my eyes, I hurriedly went on. "I should've left, Dean. It's all my fault. I should've protected Sam, but I was selfish. I didn't want to leave. I'm so sorry, Dean."

Instead of yelling at me though, berating me as I wanted him to, Dean's voice went quiet. "Why didn't you tell us, Mil?"

"I..." I actually didn't know. I guess I was scared. "I wasn't sure what you'd say. I thought you'd be cross..."

"I'm cross now!" Dean burst out. Finally.

I shook my head, sniffing back emotion. "I know. I'm so sorry, Dean."

My brother was silent for a long, terrifying moment, his shoulders heaving. He stood up and started pacing the room in agitation. I watched him nervously, simply waiting for him to strike out at me or something. "It doesn't matter now," he said eventually, pausing. His fists were clenched, but he didn't want to punch me, apparently. Even so, I kept a wary eye on his hands. "All that matters is that we get Sam back."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Any idea how we find him?"

Dean threw me a filthy look. "I hoped you would know."

"Seraphiel comes to me. I don't go to him," I said.

Dean grumbled, wildly swinging his arms as he set off pacing again. I flinched involuntarily. "Then we need a plan, and fast."

"Before he summons Lucifer." It was all about getting our brother back safely, but suddenly it was so much bigger. Bigger than either of us. Could the pair of us really stop Seraphiel and Lucifer, if it came down to it? No, probably not. I sighed heavily.

"Can you try summon him?" Dean suggested. I was staring at my feet, listening to the agitated sound of his boots clomp back and forth in front of me.

"He's got Sam. I have nothing of interest to him anymore," I said grimly. "I should've left. We would never be in this position otherwise."

"It's too late for that now, Squirt," Dean advised. His voice wasn't quite kind, but the anger had been temporarily abandoned. He stopped in front of me, and I stared up at him in defeat. I just couldn't help but think what could have been.

"Yeah, I know," I murmured. "I just wish..."

And at that moment our conversation was halted by the incessant ringing of a cellphone. I leapt to my feet to grab it immediately, hoping with all my being it was Sam, telling us he was fine - or at least when to find him.

It wasn't.

"Hey Mil," Bobby's voice greeted me. I couldn't help the sinking feeling in my chest. I'd wanted it to be Sam.

"Hey Bobby," I murmured defeatedly.

Bobby hesitated for a moment, but clearly he had more pressing matters, and ploughed on. "You asked me to keep an eye out for more of our mystery demon omens... well, I got you kids a lead."

"Where?" I asked reflexively.

"We got freak storms in Kansas - Junction City, heading towards Topeka. They're gonna hit Lawrence in the next few days by the looks of it." I made a face. Really? We didn't have time for this now. "I know, Mil, sorry," Bobby apologised, mistaking my silence for something related to our hometown. "If you hit it quick, you might bypass Lawrence altogether."

I glanced at Dean, and corrected. "We can't, Bobby. We can't take the case, I'm sorry."

"What do you mean?" Bobby demanded. "What the hell's so important you can't go chase a big ass demon?"

I grimaced. Thanks, Bobby. "It's not that. We... Sam's gone missing."

My godfather startled. "He flew the cuckoo's nest on you guys?"

"No. I - We think it has something to do with the angel who brought me back," I explained simply. "He wants Sam in order to invoke a ritual to bring Lucifer back out of the cage - or something to that effect."

"Balls," Bobby swore. "What can I do to help?"

Oh come on, Bobby. It was an amazing offer, but we couldn't accept. "What about the omens?" I pointed out. "Honestly it'd be more helpful if you went and wrapped that up."

"Someone else can take it," Bobby suggested. "Fahima's not on a job, neither's Garth I don't think."

And I didn't want either of those guys chasing a demon that powerful. Fahima was one of my closest friends and didn't have much experience with demons at all; and Garth was - to be honest - a bit of an idiot. Bobby, however, was good at his job, and I didn't doubt him.

"Nobody knows the case like you do," I reasoned. "We'll be alright."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah," I said. If only I could convince myself of that.

Bobby didn't by it in the slightest. "Are you okay, Mil?"


"Yeah, fine," I replied huskily.

"Right..."

I sighed. "I gotta go, Bobby. You be careful out there, okay. Call me when you have an update." I didn't want anything to happen to him. I didn't think I could stand it if it did.

"Of course, Mil."

"What did Bobby want?" Dean asked as I hung up.

I set the phone down with a grim sigh. "He found more of those demons omens - you know, the ones from a few weeks ago? It's spreading through Kansas as we speak. Lawrence is about to get hit."

My brother's face was carefully unreadable. "Well?" he prompted listlessly.

"I told him we couldn't take it." I said firmly. "We need to find Sam, that is our number one priority. Everything gets dropped until we get him back."

"So what do we do, then?" Dean asked desperately, pacing once again. "Where the hell are we supposed to start?"

I thought for a moment, dropping my head. "Well if we can't summon the dick himself... what about Cas?"

"What about him?"

I shot Dean a pointed look. "He can help us."

Without waiting for Dean's encouragement, I strode out the door. I headed down the next street and into an alley with only a few trashcans, and vacant of bystanders who might freak at the sudden appearance of an angel.

I steeled myself and stared skyward, ignoring anyone who happened to be walking past the entrance to the alley.

"Hey Cas!" I yelled out. "Uh, we've got a problem. We need you."

Momentarily, there was a loud flap of wings. I whirled around, seeing the trenchcoat clad angel. Wow, he never showed that quick - I'd been preparing a big speech to entice him.

"What is the problem, Mil?" Castiel asked. "I was busy."

And yet you still showed immediately. I made a face. "Yeah, the Civil War, I know. I'm sorry."

"No, it's not that," Cas corrected, his voice grave. "An angel of ours has turned rogue. I have been tasked with tracking him. Seraphiel is..."

I stiffened immediately. My throat felt dry. "What did you say?"

The angel looked confused. "Pardon?"

"The angel you're tracking," I prompted. "What was his name?"

"Seraphiel. I don't understand what the importance is? What is your problem, Mil?"

"Sam's gone missing," I explained, hearing my voice crack. "We think it was an angel - specifically, Seraphiel."

"What makes you think that?"

I shook my head, studying the unkempt pavement. "Seraphiel was the one who brought me back from Hell," I explained grimly. I hated this tale, and now I was telling it for the second time this hour. I swallowed the uncomfortable lump in my throat. "He, well, he was a big supporter of Lucifer. Seraphiel wants to complete a ritual to pop Lucifer out of the box."

"We cannot let that happen," Cas said earnestly.

Yeah, we gathered that much. "For the ritual, he needs Lucifer's true vessel. Seraphiel has taken Sam."

As I uttered those words, it struck me hard how much crap we were in right now. Seraphiel had taken Sam. We didn't know if he was still alive or not. And I, for the second time in the last four weeks, had almost killed my brother. I had failed. I had truly failed.

XXXX

"So where did you last see Sam?" Castiel asked. He and I had joined Dean in the motel room. Dean continued to pace agitatedly, one hand clenched around his cellphone.

"He was in here," I replied, staring at Sam's bed, where his abandoned bag sat - half packed clothes spewing from its mouth. "Dean and I were packing the trunk, I came back in here to get him... and Sammy was just gone."

A wretched sort of groan escaped Dean's throat.

"And you're sure it's Seraphiel?" Cas prompted.

"I can't think of who else it could be. Seraphiel threatened... I wasn't fast enough. I'm sorry, Dean."

"I will find him," the angel vowed. "I was tracking Seraphiel anyway. I was getting close, but he keeps shifting locations."

I hung my head, dropping down heavily onto my bed. I was stupid, stupid. I'd taken a risk, and as a result my brother was missing.

There was a sudden knock at the door. We all froze. I jumped up as if electrocuted to open it. But hopes were quickly dashed. It was Bobby.

I stepped aside, pulling open the door to welcome my godfather.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, admittedly a little harshly. We'd all hoped he'd been Sam. Not that I wasn't glad to see my godfather, but he had other work, and we just wanted our brother back. "What about Kansas? The omens?"

"I delegated. Anne and Chris are more than capable to handle it. You kids need me anyway. We have to get Sam back."

I smiled gratefully. Bobby always put family before anything, and that was just one of the things that made him special.

"But how'd you get here so fast?" Dean wondered. That was a good point, actually. Jersey was a good day's drive from South Dakota.

"I was in New Hampshire helping Rufus wrap up a case. Soon as you called, Mil, I dropped and came here. Sam's family, we have to find him. Do you know what took him?"

I turned away guiltily. For the third time, the tale had to be told. "His name's Seraphiel. He's an angel." I left it at that.

"So how do we find him?" Bobby asked immediately.

"I can track him," Cas said again.

"Well what are we waiting for?" Dean demanded, voice gruff.

There was a flap of wings, and Castiel had vanished. Before we could start questioning, however, the angel was back, a bowl of materials and herb-type stuff in his hands.

"I got what we need," Cas announced, setting the bowl on the table. Our altar mat was an upturned placemat, an enochian sigil etched on it. We placed the bowl in the centre of the sigil, and the four of us sat around the table, clasping hands. Castiel, eyes closed, chanted the magic enochian words. Wind whistled eerily, then deadly silence fell. Finally, the angel opened his eyes.

"I've found Seraphiel," Cas announced.

"Where?" Dean demanded, breaking his hold on my hand.

"Searchlight, Nevada."

How lovely and poetic, I thought dryly.

"He's in America?" Dean questioned.

Yes, that too. the son of a bitch was officially an idiot. "Well I hope he knows we're after him," I muttered.

Bobby shot me a grave look. "Maybe that's his point? It could be a trap for you guys."

It was a valid point, but I didn't think that was really Seraphiel's style. "No," I corrected soberly. "I know Seraphiel."

I was the receiver of a withering glare from Bobby. "How exactly do you know Seraphiel?"

Oops. I sighed, dropping my head on the table. Guess I actually had to explain now. "Seraphiel is a Lucifer loyalist," I began, glancing at Cas for prompting. The angel nodded his affirmation. "He wants to invoke a ritual to pop Satan from his box. Seraphiel needs Sam for the ritual."

"So why isn't he at Stull Cemetery?" Dean pointed out, his voice reminiscent of one recovering from a kick to the guts. "That's where we popped his box last time."

Stull Cemetery, I recognised that name as a dim flicker in my memory. "Maybe because a demon is wrecking havoc in Kansas?" I pointed out humourlessly.

Bobby's expression was stunned, but his eyes were hard. "How did he find Sam? I thought you guys were warded against the angels?"

"We are," Dean said grimly, touching his chest.

"It was me," I whispered, hanging my head. "Yell at me if you like." Come on, please yell at me - maybe I'd feel better then. "I didn't mean for it to happen like this. Seraphiel resurrected me - he wanted me to lead him to Sam. That's why I stayed away so long. And then I killed him. But - but he's back, and he got Sam. Because I wasn't fast enough getting away."

"It's not your fault, Mil," Bobby said quietly.

I glared at nobody in particular. "How can you say that? Of course its my fault. I should've left! I should've saved Sam!"

"You couldn't've known."

I couldn't listen to Bobby's reasoning. "Well I should've freaking anticipated it!"

"It doesn't matter now," Dean said. "It's too late for that. Now we need to focus on getting Sam back."

Yeah, okay. Sure. I sighed heavily.

"Come on, Mil," Dean invited me, standing up. "I need you to help me get the supplies."

Need, or just wanted to talk to me? Even so, I got up and followed him out.

Dean unlocked the Impala's trunk in silence, taking out and shaking an empty duffle. He handed it to me, then proceeded to key in the code for the lockbox. I grabbed our angel blades from the trunk, slotting the trio into the duffle. Dean found our canister of holy oil; he shook it and contents sloshed satisfyingly inside. It joined the angel blades in the bag. As Dean packed our first aid kit and laptop and I retrieved our demon knife, amongst several other sheathed blades and a spare magazine for each of our handguns, Dean turned to me.

"Mil, are you okay?" he asked carefully.

I shot my brother a filthy look. What did he expect? "Am I okay? Of course I'm not. For all we know, Sam could be dead."

"For all we know, the Apocalypse could be rearing its ugly head beneath our noses," Castiel said gravely. I spun around to see the angel and Bobby exiting the motel room. Well, thanks for the vote of confidence. "Are you ready to go?"

"Ready as we'll ever be," Dean said.

I swallowed through the suffocating lump in my throat.

XXXX

I landed with practiced ease, knees bent, barely even wobbling in my new surroundings. To my right, Dean had recovered quickly, having had almost as much experience as I at travelling this way - though I still had the upper hand on everyone but Cas. Bobby took his time wobbling, gripping my arm hard as he regained his balance.

"Where are we?" Dean asked, catching his breath with a few noisy gasps.

I looked around at the alley we were in, which was gloomy and damp, not providing anything more than meagre shelter from prying eyes and the cover of drizzle.

"Welcome to Searchlight, Nevada," Cas announced.

Well, good to know our trip was accurate.

"Where's Sam?" Dean demanded.

Clearly not right here. "How do we find him?" I tacked on.

"Somewhere in this town," Castiel responded vaguely.

I shot the angel a filthy look. Thanks for being so specific, really narrowed it down for us.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, his voice cracking through half an octave. "You don't know where he is?"

"Seraphiel is powerful. He must've warded the building against me."

Meaning we had to find Sam on our own. "Brilliant," I grumbled. "That's gonna be a piece of cake. He could be anywhere!"

"Well then I suggest we get to work," Bobby said. "Start with warehouses and factories, abandoned houses, basically anywhere you can hold a hostage without being stumbled upon."

Well, guess you just made our night. Dean and I exchanged a long look.

XXXX

By now, night had fallen. We didn't want to pay for a room, as I didn't feel I could sleep, tightly wired with nerves as I was. I could tell Dean felt the same way. So the four of us had holed up in a quiet corner of the library to pull an all nighter. It was almost midnight, but Dean, Bobby, and I were only eating dinner now - take out burgers from the 24 hour fast food joint around the corner.

Our first few hours of the hunt had been unsuccessful. We'd