[ a.n. ] This includes references to gabricls character, Alisabeth Turner, from her Supernatural fic SET IN STONE, which I highly recommend if you enjoy books like THE RUNAWAY with strong female characters and mature subject matter. Seriously, Beth knocked it out of the park with this fic and I'm so proud with how far she's come with writing. Please check it out and enjoy the chapter, I feel blessed to have been able to talk about the legend that is Al Turner in his book.

Dedicated to the one and only Bethy, because blessings deserve dedications.

- Thalia/Jordin

*****

"You want to use us as bait for some psycho saint who wants to kill us and almost did? Oh, hell no, you crazy—"

"Finish that sentence. I dare you," Gabriel's voice was low, throaty. Like if he raised it, he might break through his vessel and kill both of the Ghostfacers—though it was evident he was close to killing them, whether he showed his true form or not. He looked at Harry, who looked appalled that he'd been cut off, yet terrified to finish what he wanted to say, "If you two idiots hadn't been messing with her in the first place, maybe Saint Dymphna wouldn't have tried to kill you. But she did, because you went and started pissing around, so now you're in this whether you like it or not." Gabriel motioned to Elijah and Castiel, who both wearily stared at him, ready to stop anything he might do to the Ghostfacers, "These are my brothers, okay? Keep that in mind. We're angels, so how about you rethink exactly what you were going to yell, and you won't need to feel your eyeballs being burned out of your skull. Okay, cupcake?"

Harry gulped as he looked at Ed, who shook his head vigorously, "I—"

"Now, think carefully about this," Gabriel cut Harry off once again. "Just remember—" Gabriel made sizzling noise and used a single hand to mimic an explosion.

"Gabriel," Castiel warned.

"It'd be like cutting butter with a hot knife," Gabriel's voice was barely above a whisper.

"I think I speak for the both of us when I say that we don't have any more arguments," Ed said quietly. "How exactly are you wanting us to do this?"

"There are signals around the house." Elijah had sat down at this point, made a chair appear out of the middle of nowhere. It was wooden, likely rotting from age, but Elijah had sat down like he hadn't done so in weeks and couldn't bear to stand any longer. "Powerful ones. They ward off angels, so we can't even get in the house, let alone get close enough to Leila to help her."

"So, you need us to... what, get rid of them?" Ed asked, frowning.

"Without Dymphna knowing what you're doing, yes," Castiel answered.

"How the hell are we supposed to do that without the saint knowing?" Harry asked, crossing his arms. "You assholes realize we're human, right? We're not some friggin' angels that can come back to Earth whenever we please."

"And you, cupcake, are pretty damn close to not coming back. So, how about if you want to continue living on God's green Earth, you better shut the hell up and listen," Gabriel retorted. "Look, you two, we either need you to agree with this, or we can just send you back to Dymphna's crack house and let her smite you both—it'll hurt a ton more than your eyeballs burning. Make a decision, we're on a tight schedule."

"How is she not going to notice us destroying things right under her nose?" Ed asked.

Gabriel sighed, "There's two of you, one be a distraction, the other destroy as many sigils as they can. Not that hard."

"Gabriel," Castiel chided. "That's enough."

"What do you want me to do, Castiel? Let Dymphna win? I saved Goldilocks with the idea that Dymphna was a good thing. You came to me to help save this kid and you're going to throw it all away by using two knuckleheads who ghost hunt on the internet to try and stop her when you won't even trust Sam and Dean?" Gabriel asked, "I don't understand what you're trying to do here, brother. Do you want to save her or not? I thought Rocky and Bullwinkle were the reason we saved her in the first place."

"Sam and Dean can't know what's happening." Castiel's eyes darted to the ground, feet shifting uncomfortably.

Harry's eyes widened, "Aren't those the two assholes who—"

"Whatever you were about to say, yes. That would be them," Gabriel replied.

"Can we please stay focused?" Elijah asked. "This is a real girl who we need to help because you guys are the reason that she's being taken advantage of in the first place. Let's figure this out and help her, she's already been through enough."

Gabriel sighed, "This could've been solved with one phone call. But apparently we don't like contacting people who are actually good at their jobs."

"Not cool, man," Ed muttered under his breath.

"No offence," Gabriel replied. "We still should've made a phone call."

Harry swallowed hard, looking afraid to go against what the archangel said. Running a hand through his hair, he refused to meet the eyes of any of the celestials. It wasn't worth his life, especially if he was meant to do a trial of Hercules type task to help rescue a teenage girl. While he wasn't content with the idea of dying, he felt obligated to help the girl—as she had tried talking to him and Ed, and apparently that was something significant. At least, the angels appeared to think so.

"We can't call the Winchesters—" Castiel protested.

"Look, I don't know if you've been paying attention to everything those two have done or not, but I'd say saving the world a couple times is enough of a resume to be fit for the job, wouldn't you?" Gabriel snapped. "And if you keep this idea of not telling them, for whatever stupid reason you have, there are plenty of hunters—real, actual hunters—who could help deal with this and would actually know what they're looking for. I mean, even Al—" Gabriel caught himself, swallowing hard. He clenched his jaw, staring at the ground, "All I'm saying is there are other people besides the Winchesters."

"You know, I feel like you guys don't remember we're standing right here," Ed said, looking at the trifecta of angels over the edge of his horn-rimmed glasses. Harry put a hand on his shoulder, the universal Ghostfacers symbol of maybe you should quit while you're ahead, man. Ed felt his breath suck back into his throat as the three angels continued arguing—though Ed wasn't sure who exactly they were talking about.

"We're not involving your girlf—Alisabeth—your Alisabeth in this, Gabriel," Elijah replied. "Besides, she'd just tell Sam and Dean. And we're back at square one, now with an added threat of being stabbed by two of the most dangerous hunters in America."

"I'm just saying, someone like Alis could help, I think," Gabriel began. "She's in Kentucky right now, it's not that far—"

"No," Castiel replied, "We can't have Sam and Dean knowing."

"And why the hell not?" Gabriel asked. He could feel his temper rising again, though he didn't know why exactly he was getting so worked up, "I don't get what your play is here, little brother. Ah, yes, let's just work behind the Winchesters' backs and when they find out—not if they find out, mind you, when they do, because they always do—have them hunt our asses down for not telling them in the first place! Today feels like a great day to get stabbed with an angel blade, doesn't it? Let me tell you, I don't want to have it happen again, it hurts like a son of a bitch. So, you better tell me a damn good reason as to why we can't ask those boys, or I'm seriously going to blow your brains out of your skull, Castiel."

Castiel noticeably gulped. He looked to Elijah—to Harry—to Ed—and back to Gabriel, the four all staring at him expectantly. His jaw tensed, "It's too risky."

Gabriel threw his hand into the air, slapping his thigh as gravity beckoned it back. He made a step towards his brother, hand extended. Elijah shot from his seat, standing in between Castiel and Gabriel, who had a murderous look in his hazel eyes. Elijah's hands shook as he stood, arms out to protect his brother, but he stood tall all the same, "We need to stick together on this, Gabriel. Come on, you know that. Maybe we can't get Alisabeth—" Gabriel's hazel eyes darted in a tense glare at the mention of her name. Why was she the only thing he could remember?

"Did you not hear what he said? Too risky? I mean, sure, the guys have stopped the apocalypse a couple times but a vengeful saint sounds too risky. Sure, makes sense to me," Gabriel growled. "Come on, Castiel, if this is something that they can't handle with our help, then we're in way over our heads. But, last time I checked, good old Lucifer was the biggest threat, and he's in the cage. So for Dad's sake, who do you want to talk to that might actually be useful in this?"

"Can I say something?" Harry asked, raising his hand.

Gabriel turned and looked at him, his raised hand pinching two fingers close to each other, "I am this close to smiting someone. You better make it good."

"Look, I know that we're not... you know... Sam and Dean, and, well, side note, I think those two assholes fake it—"

"I said make it good, you dick bag," Gabriel interrupted.

Harry cleared his throat, "—But that's beside the point... Right, um... What was I trying to say again?"

"You've got like ten seconds," Gabriel replied, raising his eyebrows.

Harry's widened, "Look, man—angel—guy, all I'm trying to say is I know we're not the be-all end-all of hunters. Hell, we only recently got back into this because we were on a break for a while—"

"—Like Ross and Rachel—" Ed added. He'd only meant to lighten the mood—the tension was like a thick fog that hung in the room, suffocating anyone who dared take a breath—but all he'd received were glares from the other four that surrounded him. Ed laughed nervously, muttering under his breath, "You know... Lobsters... And all..."

"—You're not helping, man," Harry sighed, looking to Gabriel, who was staring at him expectantly, "All I mean is, are we the best? No. But you guys are asking for our help—us, and, I don't know, that's pretty cool considering you're, like, angels. I know that I want to help as best I can, and I know it's dangerous as shit, but it's really awesome knowing that angels need our help. So, if you'll take us, and if you can help us understand what we're doing so we at least have a chance of saving this kid... Then I'm in. If you don't want us, you can smite me or—or whatever, but I am willing to at least try to help."

Castiel looked at Gabriel, who drew in a deep breath. Castiel knit his eyebrows together, "Well?"

Gabriel stared at the floor, pressing his lips together in a tight line. After what felt like the longest of hours to Harry and Ed—but was likely only the shortest of minutes—Gabriel began to nod. It was slow, but Castiel felt a wave of relief flood through him because at the very least, it was still a nod.

"Here's the thing, though," Gabriel looked up at his younger brother, "We need help. Even I'll admit that. Saint Dymphna didn't fight with us in wars, she didn't really help shape mankind—hell, she wasn't even born until the seventh century. We don't know anything about what she can do. I know she's not the only saint we've got in the world, but she's the only one I've ever heard of to go rogue. And I've been here a long time. We're going to need to talk to someone who understands what could be going on, and I mean, Daddy-Dearest is off the radar, as per usual, so he's out of the question. Anyone have any ideas?"

The group looked at each other, each hoping the other had an idea because clearly, they didn't. The only person—well, being—who wasn't looking at someone was Castiel, whose eyes squinted as though there was a blazing sun in all its glory shining in his face, but there wasn't such a thing where they stood in Heaven. Gabriel recognized it as his thinking expression and quirked an eyebrow curiously.

"Castiel?" Gabriel asked.

"I think I know someone."

*****

"This is the place of someone who's going to help us stop Dymphna? I've seen better houses before they invented drywall," Gabriel complained, making a disgusted face. "You're serious?"

"You've been here before, you ass," Castiel replied. "Or did you lose that when you were brought back too?"

"Low blow, little brother," Gabriel muttered under his breath, staring at the ground.

Had he been there before?

Gabriel knew there were memories missing when Castiel had brought him back, but he figured they'd be rebuilt as time went on, or at the very least, he'd have some idea of what was going on in his life before he died—the only thing he could remember was Alisabeth, and her alone brought him enough pain that he wasn't even sure he wanted to know the rest of his own story. Gabriel figured that was why he'd thrown himself so far into helping Leila—not only did she remind him of Alisabeth, but he wanted a distraction from rebuilding who he was.

"The Mount Rushmore state isn't really making me want to rush anywhere," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Hope one of the three little pigs doesn't live here, cause man, that little porker is getting eaten," Ed crossed his arms, squinting up towards the highest point of the peaked roof.

The five men stood in front of a house that looked like it couldn't withstand a gust of any wind—whether strong or not. It was ancient, the cracked blue paint peeling off the wooden exterior, like the owner was either dead or had simply just given up maintaining it in the not-so balmy weather that was normal throughout the state—frankly, the weather would've been a better excuse, goosebumps nipped at Harry's arms. His rolled sleeve flannel shirt wasn't meant for spring in South Dakota, and he hadn't prepared to hop multiple states with angels when he'd woken up that morning. There were few sources of light around the house, a few lamp posts behind it that showed just how many wrecked cars there were on the lot, and a tiny porch light illuminating steps that probably weren't up to building code due to their state, but somehow still managed to look more stable than the paneling of the house.

Castiel was the first to move forward, gravel crunching under his worn blundstone boots. Elijah, Gabriel, Ed, and Harry all stood where they'd landed, somewhat because they didn't know who they were visiting, but also because none of them trusted the rotting porch to hold more than one person at a time. Castiel rapped on the door with his knuckles, hoping the late hour wasn't a deal breaker when it came to requesting help. He'd known the Winchesters to be at the house at all hours, but they were always far more welcome in certain places than Castiel was—especially when it came to knocking on doors.

Castiel could hear heavy footsteps edge closer to the door, the creak sounding soon after they'd stopped. Far too quickly, Castiel was face-to-face with a sawed-off shotgun barrel. He was vaguely aware of the exclamations behind him—the holy shit sounded like Harry, the sweet lord of the rings sounded like Ed, the good grief sounded like Elijah, and the that's how you get greeted by good friends? was definitely Gabriel—but Castiel ignored them all as he met the blue eyes of the man he'd only just found out had been resurrected, and the man he hoped could keep Sam and Dean Winchester out of the loop.

Castiel was splashed in the face with water—holy water, a specialty in that house that Castiel should've seen coming. He blinked twice, looking at the man with raised eyebrows as the water dripped down his stubbled jaw.

"Cas?" he asked, "What in the sam hell do you want?"

"Bobby," Castiel spoke as clear as he could with a shotgun barrel shoved into his cheek, "We need your help."

The old man rolled his eyes, lowering the shotgun from Castiel's face. He looked over Castiel's shoulder, seeing Gabriel and sighing loudly, "You angels always need help with something, don't you?" He stepped to the side of the door frame with a sigh, "Come on in. Make yourself at home."

Castiel looked expectantly at the four men standing behind him, all dressed with various expressions of bewilderment that someone actually lived in the house they stood before. He tilted his head that they should follow him, and they all exchanged looks as to who was meant to go first. Naturally, Elijah stepped towards Gabriel only to lightly push him forward. Gabriel shot a glare at his younger brother, but followed his guide anyway and walked up the stairs. Harry and Ed looked at each other, both walking up the stairs at the same time. They tried—and failed—to walk through the door at the same time, Ed eventually stepping over the threshold first as Harry tumbled in after him.

Both were met with splashes of holy water, which earned Bobby glares from both the Ghostfacers.

"What the hell was that for?" Harry asked, Bobby raised his metal flask, detailed with a devil's trap insignia etched deep into the metal.

"Holy water, don't know you, don't trust you. You only got this close because you were with Cas," Bobby shrugged as he rested his sawed-off shotgun on his shoulder. He pointed towards a doorway that led to a dark room, "Library's that way."

Elijah made his way to the door, tripping over the threshold because he was too busy staring at the decorations lining Bobby's walls, which were noticeable even with the main hall being dimly lit. Castiel sighed at his brother, who was casually attempting to straighten out his blazer, which earned him a snort from Bobby, who slapped the back of his shoulder as he walked past him, leading the men into the library, where Gabriel had all but unpacked luggage in making himself comfortable. Harry and Ed stood off to the side, far more weary of anything than the archangel, who had now placed his gravel-dusted combat boots onto Bobby's littered with paper desk, was.

Bobby placed the shotgun on the desk after walking in, Elijah and Castiel behind him, who peeled off to the opposite side of the room that the Ghostfacers stood on. Bobby had made it look as if he were casually placing the gun down, but considering it was pointed towards Gabriel's crotch, even the Ghostfacers could see he'd put it there on purpose. The bearded man adjusted his worn trucker baseball hat, dragging his hand down to rub any sleep he'd attempted to get from his eyes. He crossed his arms, looking at each of the men that stood before him before speaking, his voice sounding more exhausted than his patience.

"So, what have you boys gotten yourselves into this time?"

*****

[ a.n. ] Fastest update from me ever? I think so.

Truth is, I'm not sure how I'm feeling about this but I really, really wanted to bring Bobby in because of reasons (I mean, who wouldn't want Bobby in? Seriously.) So this came quickly because I was just super excited to introduce our old friend, because I've missed him dearly.

Let me know what your thoughts on this are in the comments below, please vote and fan if you enjoyed! I'll hopefully see you in the next chapter and I look forward to hearing from you. :)

Until next time, warriors,

Thalia/Jordin