"Wait."

Dean looked down upon the surrounded Garrison member. Three of his fallen comrades lay around him. This man was the last man fighting, and Dean had to admit he put up a good fight. He admired the Garrison member for that. But only for that.

Dean slid off the side of his jet-black horse and casually walked over to the man forced to his knees, held at gunpoint by seven of his own group members. Dean looked down upon the man from the Garrison, studying him. He had black hair and fierce blue eyes. He couldn't help but notice the latter, for the blue eyes glared back at him defiantly.

"What's your name?"

The man only continued to glare at Dean.

"Alright, well then do you mind telling me what such a small group of Garrison members are doing so far outside the city walls?"

Again, nothing but a rebellious stare. Seeing that he would get nothing out of the Garrison member now, Dean sighed and returned to his horse.

"Bind his wrists and trail him behind your horse back to camp. Someone trail behind him and make sure he doesn't try anything." Dean looked to the man "Try anything, and my men will but a bullet to your brain."

"Dean, are you sure that's a good idea, bringing him back to camp?" his brother said in a low tone next to him while the men bound the prisoner.

"What am I supposed to do Sammy? We need answers. The Garrison never travels this far outside the city walls in such a small group. Something ain't right."


For as long as anyone could remember, the land was ruled by a single government: The Garrison. The government consists of three chairs. The first of which is the Prophets. The Prophets are the scholars; they create laws and manage taxes. The second chair is the Angels; they are the military, the soldiers that protect the land and enforce laws placed by the Prophets. The final chair consists of one person, the King. The King is, by all means, the most powerful person in the land. He commands both Prophets and Angels, along with all the citizens.

For a time, there was peace. However, it was not meant to last. Three hundred years ago, God ruled as King. He was fair, wise, and just; because of this the land prospered. One cruel night, God was murdered by an Archangel by the name of Michael. Michael took the throne by force, beginning a new era of chaos and corruption. He did not care for the people, as God had, but instead was consumed by greed and power. His descendants have held the throne since, each as cruel as the last.


AUCTORITAS


The trip back to their camp wasn't a long one. His men seemed to keep themselves occupied by suddenly pulling on the prisoner's rope, making him stumble and occasionally fall. Those instances would earn a laugh from the group as the man struggled to regain his footing.

Dean looked back from the front of the line at his men taunting the Garrison man. He frowned a little, but shrugged it off and turned to Sam, who was closely flanking his right side.

"So what do you think they were doing out here?"

Sam thought for a second. "I don't know. Do you think they're looking for Rebel groups like ours?"

"No I don't think so. They wouldn't send out a group of four for that. Some Rebel groups reach sizes of fifteen to twenty, they'd be way too outnumbered."

"Maybe they're runaways?"

Dean gave his brother a disbelieving glare. "C'mon Sammy get real, a runaway? That's happened, what, once in Garrison history. And the guy who did it was crazy. And he was killed before getting 5 miles out of the city."

"Alright Dean I get your point, I'm just trying to think of reasons here."

"Yeah well, think of better ones."

That earned him a glare of his own. Dean caught site of their camp. It was nothing big, as they had to carry all of their supplies. Several sleeping-bags surrounded a fire pit, along with thick wood posts each man pounded into the ground outside their ring of sleeping-bags to tie their horses to. They carried the posts for situations in which there weren't enough trees to tie their horses to.

Turning back toward his men (who were still being amused by making the Garrison man fall and drag behind the horse), Dean instructed them to tie him to his horse's post; his horse would just have to share with Sam's tonight.

His men dragged him over to the post, first binding his wrists behind the post, then wrapping the rope around his upper body. One of the men gave him a punch to the face, just for good measure. Seeing the hungry look from the rest of his men who obviously held great animosity for the Garrison member too, Dean began barking out orders.

"Burns, Johnson, I want the fire going in half an hour. Fulton and McFee, go take care of the horses. Everyone else cleans weapons." His men looked at him disappointed, but as soon as Dean gave them a hard "Now!" they all scrambled to their work.

He and Sam looked over a map while the other men worked, discussing what might have interested the Garrison.

Later that night, Dean walked over to the post the Garrison man was secured to. It was far enough away from the fire to be cold. Dean again looked down to study the man, while the man again glared up at him.

"What's your name?"

Nothing.

"Look man, I don't get anything from learning your name. Unless you prefer being called 'prisoner."

At that the man looked up at him with his piercing blue eyes. This time was different though. Instead of a defiant hate, the eyes looked upon him with curiosity, studying him. Dean felt a little uncomfortable being studied, but he hid all signs of weakness.

"Castiel."

Well there's a start. "Well, Castiel, do you mind telling me what the Garrison is doing this far off the reservation?"

"I have no intentions of telling you anything."

Dean surveyed him again before adding "Well I could turn you over to my boys, but I think they'd be more interested in using you for target practice than getting information from you. Right now the only reason you're not dead is because of my orders. So tell you what, if you tell me what I need to know, I won't let my men kill you."

Silence. "So I was digging through all of your belongings" he continued, trying to get a bit of a rise out of Castiel, "and I found out that you're an Angel. Soldier to the King. What mission did the Garrison send you on?"

"Since you know I am an Angel, you know I have sworn obedience. The punishment for disobedience is death. I will not betray the Garrison for a group of Rebel scum." He spat the word Rebel like it was a swear word.

Dean raised his eyebrows at the insult. He couldn't help but like Castiel. Yeah, he was a dick Angel. But he had to give him credit for insulting the leader of an angry Rebel group, when he was bound helpless to a post. He was either stupid or had guts; and Dean was willing to bet on the latter.

"Well I was going to give you dinner but I think that little remark has changed my mind." he smirked at the Angel.

Leaving him, Dean returned to center camp. "Hey Sammy"

"Yeah?"

"I got a name. Castiel." He gave his brother a huge smile, proud of his accomplishment.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Great Dean, don't pull a muscle giving yourself a pat on the back."

His smile turned into a scowl. Sam just smirked, knowing that if anyone else talked to Dean like that they would be waking up on the ground with a black eye.

"Anyways, I need you to watch the prisoner tonight"

"What? Dean c'mon why do I have to watch him?"

"Because I'm in charge and I say so." When that earned him a stubborn look from Sam, his smile slid and he whispered back "Because I don't trust anyone else to do it. You saw the way they were looking at him earlier, they'll kill him. Now I'm all for it, but first we need some answers. Can I trust you to do it?"

"Man, why can't you? He's your prisoner."

"Thus I reiterate. Because I'm in charge and I say so." A cocky smile crept on his face.

"I was up all last night figuring out a way around the rockslide we ran into" Sam protested.

Crap. He forgot about that. "Fine Sammy, I'll take watch tonight. But you owe me one." A smile danced across his lips as Sam threw him a disbelieving look.

"Whatever, jerk."

"Bitch."


As some of you may have noticed, this isn't the first time this story has been on fanfiction. I, due to unfortunate circumstances, had to delete my old account. So if you've followed it before: welcome back! I have made some adjustments to it so keep your eyes peeled, its not the exact same story from last time. If it's new to you then welcome aboard =] I'm sorry for the confusion this may have caused. I'm also really sorry to the people who have followed the story before, for just up and leaving without saying anything, and for not being on for a while. I will be posting frequently, at least until I've reached the point I did on my last account. Then updates will probably a bit more spaced out. But don't worry - I am very determined to finish this story. So if you like long chapter fics, stick around.

So thanks for reading, and, as always, reviews are most welcome =]