Chapter 1: An Urgent Call

"Dean…Please," echoed a desperate voice softly. It sounded like it came from afar, it sounded agonized.

"Help, "came the voice again, but it sounded even fainter, almost like he was hearing it from underwater. He opened his eyes.

The motel room was dim and he immediately began to pick up Sam's deep rhythmic breathing from the bed beside him. He sat up. If someone was calling out, why couldn't Sam hear it? He thought about the voice; replaying it in his head, it was difficult to determine the voice of the owner under that agony. Then it hit him. It was Castiel. The way he said his name, Dean, had always been so distinctive. Everything Castiel said sounded impressive and mysterious, even when he spoke about him…and apparently even when he sounded tortured as well.

Dean knew immediately that it wasn't just a dream; it was a message. It all seemed so much more vivid than a dream. Castiel couldn't find Dean because of the protective marking he carved into his ribs, but something was bothering Dean. He rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes and thought hard. Why didn't he just use his phone to call him? Was it that serious?

Dean turned to the slumbering Sam and flicked his bedside light on. He began to dress quickly. Sam groaned in protest.

"Dude come on…" he grumbled in frustration.

"Sam, Cas is in trouble," he said not sounding the least bit tired anymore. Sam lifted his head up.

"What?" he said.

"I just got a message from him in my sleep, he's in trouble." Sam sat up.

"Did he show you where he was?" He asked.

"No," said Dean, frustration slipping into his voice. Sam got up and turned another light on.

"How are we supposed to track him?" he asked as he pulled on a shirt. Dean was lacing up his boots and his mind was racing.

"He didn't use his cell, you think it could be dead?" he asked. Sam picked up his phone and pressed a speed dial number. Dean stopped lacing and looked up at his face. Sam frowned, and then shut his phone.

"Straight to voicemail," he said as he pulled on some jeans.

"Could we track him from his phone's GPS?" asked Dean.

"My plan exactly" said Sam as he hurried to open his laptop.

About fifteen minutes after that, Sam and Dean were closing the doors to the impala. Dean backed out of the motel quickly and took off down the dimly lit road. The town Castiel's phone popped up in wasn't that far from Bobby's which was nice, but they were still hours away.

"What do you think he was up to?" Sam asked as he opened his map and flicked on a car light.

"I dunno, he didn't say much," said Dean. Castiel's anguished voice replayed in his mind. "Just my name and 'help'…he didn't sound good dude." Sam frowned and seemed a little lost in thought.

"I hope this doesn't have anything to do with Raphael…" he said darkly. "Because if it does, it's kind of over our heads" he continued. Dean glanced at him.

"We've handled big fish before," he said recalling the horrific events leading up to and after the failed apocalypse. He thought of soulless Sam…

"But this doesn't have much to do with us this time. We were vessels, we were important, you know…at the eye of the storm. This is between the angels. Cas said he was trying to sort out a civil war…" said Sam sounding serious.

"It can't be as bad as the devil," said Dean.

"I think it's hard to imagine an angel civil war…" Sam countered. "We don't have any idea what it's like."

"We've gotta help him anyway," said Dean fiercely. "He's always helped us."

"I never suggested we don't," said Sam. "But Dean, this isn't our battle. We get him and get out," said Sam heatedly. Dean considered him.

"You're right; we don't want to get tangled in it, just get Castiel back…if that's what he's up against."

"Honestly Dean, what else could hurt Cas?" said Sam. Dean thought good point.

A couple hours later, when it was finally light out, Dean called Bobby.

"Hello?" he said. He sounded tired.

"Hey Bobby," said Dean. "Something is up, we're driving toward you."

"What's going on?" he asked sounding concerned but still exhausted; possibly from the never-ending flow of bad news.

"Cas sent me a message in a dream, he needs help. Sam tracked his phone; he came up a couple towns away from you."

"What else did he tell you?" said Bobby.

"Not much," said Dean. "It was a very weak message, he sounded hurt." An edge of worry crept into his voice.

"I don't know much about angel healing, but I could hit the books. If you find him, you can bring him over here. I've added more protection to the house," said Bobby.

"Okay thanks Bobby, I'll keep you posted."

"Hey Dean," said Bobby suddenly. "Don't walk into a trap," he said his voice hard.

"I won't," Dean assured him and hung up. Sam was leaning drowsily against the passenger door. He perked up when Dean hung up. "So, Bobby's gonna do some research on angel injuries I guess…" said Dean. Sam rubbed his eyes and examined his map.

"Couple more towns dude" he said.

Dean had not allowed himself to think it, but for the first time during the ride, he wondered if Castiel was dead. The idea upset him more than he ever would have admitted. In times of heightened worry like this, Dean realized how much Castiel really meant to him. He was his second brother in a life where all he had was family. His insides crawled at the thought of finding him dead. So he refused to think of it, telling himself Cas was alright, he had to be. He revved the impala and drove faster.

Authors note: Welcome!

Because it's fun, and I like whimsy, I'm putting up one interesting thing about me at the end of each installment. Hopefully you'll find them interesting too. If you aren't into that kind of thing feel free to move swiftly on. Thanks!

Fact:

Growing up in high school the last names of my three best friends turned out to be my three initials.