"Nope, not yet," Runa replied. "They're very resilient. They've had some help, granted, but nothing's taken them out yet."

"Curious." Michael shook himself briefly. "And you are traveling with them?"

"My friend and I are, yeah," Runa said, carefully not mentioning Cas or Gabriel. "Ever since our house was burned down by some of Raphael's followers."

"He has gotten brave, then, to send angels down here for something like that." Michael shook his head. "He's becoming... uppity, I believe you would say."

"Yeah, apparently he was trying to recruit my friend for that war," Runa said. "And when we got away before he could, he made sure we didn't have anywhere to take refuge. Lucky for us, we'd met the Winchesters not too long beforehand, and they helped us out."

"Always sticking their noses where they don't belong and yet, somehow, ending up alright in the end." Michael rolled his eyes. "Although why Raphael thought it was a good idea to bring a nephil into the war, I cannot imagine."

Runa shrugged.

"Same reason I was born, I'd imagine," she said. "Trying to tip the balance. Nephilim don't need vessels, and can go where angels can't, but can do all of the same things. Works the same for an antichrist, really. Can't be possessed, can't be exorcised, still have neat powers."

Michael snorted. "And yet neither of you should exist," he said, his voice dry.

"Valid point," Runa said. "But we do anyways. And honestly, I'm just glad I didn't end up like my siblings."

Michael grunted but didn't say anything else, just waiting for Dean to show up. When the hunter did show, Michael looked at him evenly.

Dean stood watching Michael, clearly rather wary.

"Please," Runa said, looking at them both, "please save the Mexican stand-off for later? When I'm allowed to not be the only thing standing between the two of you? Because I really, really just want to shower in holy water right now, not act as a buffer."

Michael snorted. "It has simply been a long time," he said, moving over to the Impala. "I'm surprised you've managed so well."

"We managed fine once people stopped trying to push us into shit," Dean growled, also moving back to the car.

Runa just slid into the front seat of the car.

"Let's just get back and sort things out," she said.

"We'll be back a little before dawn," Dean said, starting to drive again. Michael just settled back for the ride, his arms over his chest.

"Alright," Runa said. "When we get back, I'm taking a rosary and a can of salt. I still reek of Hell, I need to scrub off a few layers of skin."

Dean nodded. "We've got all of that," he said. "And decent hotel rooms with plenty of hot water, for once."

"Awesome," Runa said, settling back in her seat. "And you warned the others, right?"

"They know," Dean said. None of them were happy, but they knew. "Kyra's been worried about you." So had he, but he wasn't going to say that in front of Michael.

"I'd call her, but I don't have my phone," Runa said. "I'll talk to her when we get back and reassure her that I'm fine. No worse for wear than when I went in." It wasn't quite true, but for the moment, the lie was better.

Dean nodded, rather reassured himself, and sped up so he could get back to the hotel as soon as possible.

As soon as they got back to the hotel, Runa scrambled out of the Impala. She definitely wanted the hottest shower she could handle.

Dean let her out first, although he did grab two rosaries and a tub of salt for her, putting them in the bathroom.

Kyra looked over when they arrived, getting up to go say hi to Runa before letting her shower. She knew Runa's post-Hell routine by now.

Runa spent more time in the shower than usual. She'd wrapped one of the rosaries around the shower head so that it was in the middle of the spray, and she scrubbed first with soap and then with salt. Then she just stood there under the holy water for a while, trying desperately to feel clean.

In the meantime, Sam went to find his brother. When he saw Michael, he stopped short. The vessel was still Adam's body, but something about the way he was standing told him that it was definitely Michael.

"Dean...?" Sam asked, glancing at his brother.

"Yeah, I know," Dean said. "It's Michael. Apparently he gets to help us with the war in Heaven."

Michael looked at Sam, his eyes cold for a little while. "Samuel Winchester. You did manage to escape."

"Yeah," Sam replied warily. "I did have a bit of help, though. Clearly, so did you."