FIC: A Mighty Dark Night - Chapter IV
Title: A Mighty Dark Night
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: R
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Word length: ~74,000
Warnings: violence, language and sex
Summary: Detective Dean Winchester meets Homeland Security Agent Castiel James over a corpse.
Chapter IV
Well dying young I have survived
Dean swore at his phone in a blistering tirade and went running for the pay phones. There were still a couple in each station, thank God. Cas's number didn't even go to voicemail, as he expected. He dug in his pocket for change, found another couple of quarters and dialed Sam's number.
"Sammy! Listen, I need a favor…"
His brother met him in a small park on Wisconsin Ave. Dean liked it because of the view it offered (on a hill - he could see all approaches) and Sam liked it because of the view it offered (the long street winding down the hill to all the little specialty shops Jess had liked and dragged him to, before).
"Okay, Dean," Sam said, joining him at a bench. "So what is this about?"
"Thanks, Sammy." Dean glanced over his shoulder. "You weren't followed?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "Aren't you going a little overboard with this cloak and dagger business?" Dean just glared at him, and Sam continued with a sigh. "I wasn't followed. Dad taught me how to evade a tail, remember? Not a lesson I could forget."
"Sorry, man. Maybe I'm just being paranoid with this, but…"
"Nah, I trust your instincts," Sam interrupted. "You think you're being followed, someone's following you. You sure you don't want to bring in any of your cop buddies, though?"
"Yeah. I told you man, I have no fucking clue which of them I can trust." His fingers tightened around the edge of the bench. "Okay, here's the deal. I've been working with this dude from DHS, and - we had a bit of an argument. But then I found out some, uh, stuff, and it didn't seem to matter as much. So we were on the phone, he was being paranoid, but then there were these noises on the other end of the line." It sounded lame, even to his ears. I was worried about this guy I think may have been lying to me for this whole investigation, let's drop everything and go help him. And I totally jerked off to him this morning, too.
"Uh. Noises?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Fight noises. And then he got cut off."
"So… you want to help him anyway?" Sam was giving him that look now. It was the I know something about your psyche that you haven't figured out yet look. Dean hated that look.
"He knows stuff about the Crowley case he wasn't telling me. That's all." He hoped he kept the whiny defensive note out of his voice. He hoped he didn't sound sick with worry.
"Uh huh. Do you have any idea where we could find him? Or what's left of him?"
Dean glared at him. "At the end of the call, he said something about 'button' and 'pond.' Dude, we've lived here our whole lives. Do you know any Button Pond, anywhere around here?"
Sam was already nodding. "Yeah, sure. Button Gwinnett, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. The names are all up at the pond/pool thing, right by the Mall off Constitution Ave."
Dean's mouth fell open. "You are such a nerd! How do you remember this shit?"
"Dean, the man's name was 'Button.' Button! Why wouldn't I know that?"
"Whatever." Dean shrugged dismissively, already chivvying Sam along. "Come on, let's get to your car."
Sam rolled his eyes, but they both surreptitiously checked the bushes and path back to Sam's…
"Sam! What the hell happened to your car?" Dean gaped, momentarily distracted by the pink Cadillac and 'I brake for Early Bird Specials' bumper sticker.
"Um. Sarah's broke down, so I loaned her mine, and her friend Evelyn let me borrow her car. Just get in," Sam muttered.
"Dude, it's practically a boat. And what does it run on, Mary Kay rejects?" Dean yanked open the passenger door and slid in. Still, the backseat was huge, and if Cas was hurt in any way… he scowled at the thought. He checked his sidearm while Sam drove, then he checked his messages again. Nothing. His foot started tapping. Sam drummed his fingers on the wheel and chewed his lower lip. Dean schooled his features, bracing himself for Sam's eventual questions.
"You really like this guy, don't you?" Sam asked softly.
"Yeah, Sammy, I want to invite him to the prom. We're going to wear matching powder blue tuxes and hold hands," Dean answered, keeping his voice light and scoffing.
"I'm serious, man." Sam scowled, and slammed on his breaks as an Ohio plate cut them off. "Damn tourists," Sam muttered. "Look, I'm glad you've made a friend. You aren't exactly the most amiable fellow."
Dean stared at him. "'Amiable fellow'? Who are you, Jane Austen?"
"Shut up. You know what I mean."
"So, what, I'm getting penalized for spending time with my family?" Dean grumbled. He looked down at his phone for the one hundredth time, willing it to ring. He'd entered Cas's name next to his number already. Number nine on the list. What does that say, that a man I've known not even three whole days is only the ninth number I've called on this thing? And I added him to speed-dial?
"Hey, I like hanging with you. I just think-"
"Time's up, Sammy! Turn up 20th and park this beast." Sam shot him a dirty look, but did as he was told. Good boy.
Dean hopped out of the car and waited impatiently for a break in the line of cars whizzing across Constitution Ave. Sam stepped up next to him. "So what does he look like?"
"Big, dark blue eyes," Dean replied without thinking. Sam's eyebrows crawled up almost to his hairline. "Can it, buddy," Dean continued, flushing. "I'm a detective, remember? He's, uh, a couple inches shorter than me. Perma-stubble, dark hair, cleft chin, tan trench coat, wiry build."
The string of cars stopped as the light changed, finally, and they ran across the street.
"Where's this Button thing?" Dean asked, his eyes roving the grounds. No Cas, but no Uriel, either. A gaggle of toddlers tripped and waddled by, chubby fingers gripping their teacher's leading rope.
"Across that little bridge there." Sam nodded to a tiny island in the pond, and they both sped up. Dean's heart sank as they moved closer. Unless Cas was crouched down behind the stone monument, he was definitely no longer there.
Their feet thudded across the wooden bridge.
"Dean!" Sam grabbed at his arm. "Look!"
There was a broken cell phone on the ground to the far right. Dean knelt down beside it. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he said under his breath. His eyes darted frantically around the island. "Shit," he hissed as a familiar figure stepped onto the bridge. "Behind me, Sam."
Sam gave him a startled look and didn't move.
"Detective Winchester!" Gabriel Smecher's voice called out to him. "And who's this handsome behemoth? Employing a bodyguard now, are you?"
"What the fuck are you doing here, Smecher?" Dean growled, moving in front of his brother and ignoring what was undoubtedly a pissy look from Sam. Smecher's eyes lit on the broken cell in Dean's hand.
"Where's my brother?" he asked, all traces of levity gone from his voice. He stood up straighter and fixed Dean with a piercing look. For the first time since Dean had met him, Gabriel Smecher actually looked like a law enforcement agent.
"I should be asking you that," Dean said, and Smecher's eyes narrowed.
"No. No, not me." Smecher looked away, frowning. "I needed… it doesn't matter. I'll find him later." He gave Dean and Sam a mocking bow. "Return to your regularly scheduled program, gentlemen. Adieu."
He turned on his heel and strode away.
"That was weird." Sam frowned after him.
"Yeah, come on." Dean hit him lightly in the chest. "We're following him." He began to move quickly back across the bridge.
"Ow. And why?" Sam asked, easily catching up to him.
"Because there's something fishy with that prisoner transfer, Smecher's in charge, and he's got bubkis for back-up." Smecher was also parked across Constitution, good. "He was looking for Cas to get his help since Rachel bit it last night."
"Oh, that's great. We're filling in because everyone else got killed?"
Dean stopped abruptly and Sam almost fell over him. "First. Cas is not dead. He's missing. And second, you are staying in the car. You're a lawyer, not a cop. We get to wherever it is, and you wait for me. Is that clear?"
"Dean-"
"Clear? Or I'm stealing those keys and following Smecher by myself."
Sam shifted from foot to foot, then sighed. "Okay, fine. Clear."
"Good." Dean looked over his shoulder. Smecher hadn't noticed them. "Smecher drives a red Mini-Cooper. That barely qualifies as a car. But he'll be easy to follow, come on."
***
Smecher stopped by a vacant lot on the edge of Chinatown. The area had undergone a massive renovation project over the past ten years, but he had somehow managed to pick the one empty building on the block. Dean ran a hand over his face. It was still a crappy place to keep prisoners, more like a safe house than a prison. Huh.
"Okay, Sammy," Dean said, pulling out his cell and calling his brother's number. "Just keep your phone on. If I sound like I'm in trouble, you know-"
"Charge in after you, swinging my fists?" Sam suggested, answering his cell and sending up an echo.
"No, dipshit. Call 911." He ignored Sam's pissy expression and climbed out of the car. "Remember your promise, Sam," he said, half-turning and fixing his little brother with his best impression of their dad. Sam nodded, his face softening a bit.
"Be careful."
"Careful's my middle name." He flashed a cocky grin over his shoulder, and waited for an answering smirk before turning back to the building. They'd parked outside a noodle shop four doors down from the vacant building and its weedy, overgrown neighboring lot. Dean glanced surreptitiously at the other parked cars along the street. Smecher's Mini-Cooper stood out. An old clunker, an SUV and a white van occupied the other side of the street. The bright red Mini-Cooper was sandwiched between two black SUVs that just screamed 'law enforcement' over on Dean's side of the street.
"Okay, Sam, I'm going in." He slid his phone into his coat pocket and heard Sam's muffled, "You better come back out in one piece."
The doorway gaped open, the right-hand side of the door missing. It used to be an apartment building, and Dean grimaced, thinking of all the small units with even tinier rooms inside. Perfect for hiding. He took a breath and drew his sidearm.
Dean crept noiselessly through the foyer, eyes roaming over water-damaged walls and scuffed tiles, his ears pricked for the slightest noise. He froze at the sound of something crashing, shattering, on the floor above him. It was followed by a definite scream.
Dean spotted the door to the stairwell and ran to it, forcing it open with his shoulder and cursing when it rebounded loudly off the wall. He took the steps two at a time, slowing at the top and emerging, gun first, into the second floor hallway.
Whispers scuttled down the hall like so many dead leaves. He blinked rapidly and tried to focus on their source. There was a broken window at the end of the hall, in the back of the building. Perhaps it was responsible for the shattering he'd heard earlier. He moved cautiously forward.
A gust of wind rippled down the hall, and Dean froze again as doors on broken hinges flew open at its touch. All except one, the one in the back right corner. He darted into the room on its left and made his way quickly through the apartment to the window leading out onto a fire escape. His nose wrinkled. The place had obviously been used by squatters, and he pushed up hard on the window, releasing the stench of stale sweat and the sickeningly sweet odor of pipe smoke. Hashish, he noted with detached professionalism.
The fire escape creaked beneath his weight. He crouched low and picked his way carefully to the next room, raising slightly above the windowsill to see inside. What the fuck?
His three prisoners were indeed there, but they didn't look much like prisoners. Alistair, Meg and Ruby were standing, uncuffed, over the groaning body of Agent Gabriel Smecher.
"Why the fuck did you do that?" Dean's eyes widened as Agent Uriel Inger strode into the room, trailed by three agents he'd never seen before. Uriel stuck a meaty finger in Alistair's face. "You've gone too far, boy!"
Alistair chomped his teeth and Uriel drew back his hand and slapped him across the face. Dean winced. Uriel had quite the backhand.
"Enough!" Ruby broke in. "He's not going to join you, and you know it, Uriel. Would you really rather do something about it yourself? Like you did with Rachel?"
Holy shit, he is the killer! Uriel took a step towards her.
"I had her well in hand. She would never have reached Winchester." Dean started, his mind skipping frantically along the connection as Uriel continued to bite off his words. "Instead your genius partner killed her with a DHS weapon. And now Winchester's sniffing around. I am displeased."
Ruby shifted her feet and Alistair shot him a nasty look, but it was Meg who responded, sticking her lower lip out in a petulant sneer.
"We didn't tell Brady to do that, you moron. Jesus! What do you take us for?"
Brady, Brady. He'd just seen the name somewhere, recently hadn't he? One of Crowley's... The payoffs!
"What do I take you for? Chaff." Uriel smiled wide, and Dean's shoulders gave an uneasy twitch. "And I only need one of you." He raised his gun, and Dean could tell even from his perch outside that it wasn't the same, DHS-issued gun he'd sported back at Crowley's murder scene. Beside Uriel, his cronies took aim. "Unfortunately, you two ladies died trying to escape, catching Agent Smecher in the crossfire."
Ruby backed away, hands raised. "We had a deal, Uriel. If you want Lilith, you need us. All of us."
"I don't think so. Isn't that right, Alistair?" Meg gasped and turned on Alistair as Uriel trained his weapon on Gabriel, still groggy on the ground. "Kill the ladies, I've got Gabriel."
FUCK. Dean stood just as the door to the apartment crashed to the ground. He had only a moment to register a bloody Cas striding in, gun extended, before all hell broke loose.
"Call the cops, Sam!" he yelled towards his phone, and fired a shot at Uriel's arm, shattering the window. He missed, as Uriel twisted to take on Cas instead. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!
Ruby was already running out of the room towards one of the apartment's bedrooms, two of Uriel's cronies in pursuit. Meg and Alistair were fighting each other with their fists, hissing insults back and forth in a language Dean didn't recognize. The remaining crony fired at Dean, and he ducked more falling glass.
"You should have joined us, Castiel!" Uriel roared, leaping forward with surprising agility for such a large man. Dean's heart caught in his throat as Uriel's paw knocked aside Cas's gun. Cas was already so damn bloody; what had Uriel's men done to him?
"We don't bargain with terrorists, have you forgotten?" Cas grunted back, falling to his knees. Alistair and Meg collided into the crony aiming for Dean, the three of them going down in a pile of fists and kicks, and Dean got a lucky shot off at Uriel's shoulder. It clipped him, and he turned with a snarl, firing at Dean. The shot went wide, as Cas launched himself at Uriel's legs, pulling him off-balance.
Dean knocked aside the remaining shards of glass and jumped through the window, only to land on his ass as Meg leapt at him. His head hit the ground, just inches from the unseeing eyes of the DHS Agent that'd been aiming for him moments ago. Alistair stepped on his hand, hard, and Dean dropped his gun with a curse. Meg laughed and dug her knees into his chest. Before Alistair could stoop to collect the weapon, however, Gabriel revived himself enough to sweep Alistair's legs out from under him. Gabriel rose on unsteady feet and pulled his own gun.
"Gabriel! Behind you!" Cas choked out. Uriel had an arm across his throat and his gun trained on Gabriel's back. Cas's face was growing darker and darker, and Dean felt a bloodthirsty rage infuse his limbs. He threw Meg off his chest. She went flying into the wall, hitting it at a weird angle, and fell, still.
Time seemed to slow as Dean took in the scene. Had he just - had he just killed Meg? Alistair was staring at him, hatred in his eyes, despite the fact he had sold her out to Uriel less than half an hour ago. Gabriel was looking from Alistair to Uriel, trying to gauge which was the biggest threat. And Uriel was still choking the life out of Cas, Cas's feet drumming the floor.
"I will deal with you, boy." Uriel's eyes cut to him, full of the promise of his death, only to open wide in surprise. Blood trickled out of his mouth and his arms dropped Cas and his gun. Cas fell to the floor with a gasp.
"Not if I deal with you first, traitor," Anna said grimly, shoving him off her long knife. Dean stared at her, uncomprehending, but Gabriel didn't waste time.
"Come on, Anna. We still have this one." He held his gun steady on Alistair as Anna picked her way through the debris, pulling out her cuffs. Alistair bared his teeth at her in a parody of a grin, and she casually backhanded him. He slumped at her feet, a gray stain against the weather-beaten wooden floor. Anna's red hair brushed the yellow FBI on her blue jacket, the colors popping to Dean's eyes. It was so surreal. How was Anna even there? He shook himself and hurried to Cas's side and knelt beside him.
"Cas? You okay?" Cas hissed in pain when he touched him, and Dean gritted his teeth as he tried to gently wipe at the blood at Cas's temple. Sirens sounded from outside.
"What took you so long?" Gabriel asked Anna. She arched an eyebrow at him.
"You wanted this to be official, Gabriel. There are certain protocols, you know." She turned to Dean and Cas. "You sure know how to pick them, Dean. That man-"
"Leave off, Anna," Dean cut in harshly, sliding his arms carefully around Cas to haul him upright. She narrowed her eyes, but Gabriel spoke first.
"Look, Dean-o. Uriel's going to have arranged for Rachel's death to look like Castiel's doing. Can you stash him somewhere for a week or so while I unravel this mess?"
"Of course I can. What are you going to do about Lilith?" Cas was leaning against him, his breath coming in ragged pants against his neck, and Dean found it a little hard to focus. "Ruby, did she get away?"
Gabriel glanced into the other room. "Fuck, she took out two Agents. Turncoats, but still."
Footsteps sounded in the hall below, voices calling out for identification - FBI and DCPD.
"You need to get him out of here, right now. Use the fire escape," Gabriel commanded him. "I'll be in touch, just GO!"
Dean was already moving to the broken window, half-carrying Cas. He spared one last glance at Meg's crumpled body, and then they were outside. A patrol car blocked the end of the narrow alley between the apartments and the building next door, a restaurant.
"Sam? Can you hear me?" Dean whispered.
"Jesus, Dean! You all just - so many laws - dude!" sounded from his coat pocket.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll explain later. Help me get Cas out, all right? Kitchen of the place a few doors down from the noodle shop."
He could hear Sam grumbling, "Cops everywhere, fucking disbarred," but Dean tuned him out and concentrated on getting Cas down the fire escape. His eyes were a little glassy and his breath came labored and loud. His hand was tight around Dean's neck, though, and they stumbled to the ladder.
"I'm going to go down first, then you drop and I'll catch you," Dean told him. Cas just nodded, eyes drooping. "Hey, you with me? You okay?"
"My brother just tried to kill me. How do you think I feel?" Cas gritted out. Dean recoiled.
"Shit, Cas. Just - just hold it together for a little bit longer, okay?" He waited for the other man's exhausted nod before starting down the ladder. It was only a matter of time before the cops decided to check out the alley instead of just blocking it off. More sirens were arriving. Dean jumped the last few feet and looked back up, holding out his arms. Cas met his gaze.
A jolt ran through him at the expression in those blue eyes. Even after Cas's harsh words from that morning, after his disillusionment with his brother agents and whatever had happened to him at the pond, Cas trusted him to catch him. It had been a long time since someone had looked at him like that, more than fifteen years, and Dean had pushed him away, ignoring his hurt, ignoring his own feelings.
Cas fell silently through the air. Dean grunted with the impact, but couldn't resist taking one tiny moment to fist his hands in the folds of the trench coat and hold Cas to him. Bruised and bloodied, for sure, but whole. He cleared his throat.
"Come on." They staggered a few feet to the kitchen door just as it opened. Sam lurked in the doorway, a small first aid kit in his hand, 'Evelyn Fielding' stamped on its lid.
"Found this in the car," he said by way of greeting. "There's a bathroom across the hall. Your friend should change his bloody coat, too. The street is swarming with cops."
"Good thinking," Dean praised him. "Cas, this is my brother, Sam. Sam, Cas."
Between the two of them, the Winchesters managed to hustle Cas into the tiny bathroom. The cooks in the kitchen didn't even look up, and Dean raised his eyebrow at Sam. Sam grimaced. "I just bought a couple dozen dumplings," he mouthed.
"I love dumplings." Dean grinned at him. Sam rolled his eyes in response.
"Tight fit in here. I'm going to keep an eye on the street. You take care of the… clothing situation." Sam backed out of the bathroom, bumping his head, and pulled the door closed behind him.
"Your brother is very kind," Cas muttered.
"Yeah, I think I'll keep him," Dean said without thinking, and wanted to swallow his own foot at the flicker of pain across Cas's face. "Uh, here, off with the coat."
He busied himself with sliding Cas's arms out of his trench coat and suit jacket as gently as he could. "Here, you wear my jacket, that will cover some of these stains," Dean said, eyeing the blood and dirt on Cas's formerly white dress shirt and shucking off his leather jacket. "I know a doctor. He won't ask questions, don't worry. I'll just get the rest of the blood off your face here-"
"It's too quiet in the kitchen," Cas interrupted his babbling. Dean shut his mouth. They both drew their guns, and Dean reached for the door.
The two cooks were staring into their pots like the scalding water contained the secrets of the universe. Sam stood in the middle of the kitchen, hands in the air, Ruby behind him with a large butcher's knife pressed to his back.
"Dean-" Sam started, his voice strangled.
"Shush, Gigantor," Ruby chided. "Look, Winchester. That's you, right? And your little friend, Castiel? Didn't want to be Uriel Inger's bitch?"
"Looked to me like you were willing to play that role," Dean said, shifting left as Cas shifted right.
"Don't move, or I'll gut the giant!" Ruby pressed the knife harder against Sam's back and he let out an inadvertent gasp. "I just need a minute of your time. A minute!"
Dean stilled and saw Cas do likewise out of the corner of his eye. "Why?"
"You want to stop Lilith. I want to stop Lilith. We're on the same side here."
"You have a knife to my brother's back. That tends to change things."
Ruby scowled at him. "You're going about Lilith in the wrong way. Uriel wanted to lure her out into the open, chop off her head and get all the glory. Then he could put his own man in charge." Her eyes darted to Cas. "Come on, you had to know he was rotten."
Cas just glared at her.
"Why are you telling us this?" Dean asked, drawing her attention back to him.
"Lilith's a snake. She's not going to give you the opportunity to cut off her head, not unless you prove to her you're worth it. You want to draw her out? You need to cut off her money supply."
Dean's heart began to beat faster as his mind whirled. The financial records Cas had found, payoffs to Brady, who tried to stop Rachel from getting to Dean with information. Brady, who worked for Crowley.
"Crowley was the money man," he whispered. Ruby nodded, a ghost of a smile playing across her lips.
"Nice work, Sherlock. You focus on that. I'm leaving town."
Dean shook his head. "Why would you turn on them? Aren't they-"
"My family?" Ruby barked a short laugh. "Forget it, Winchester." Her mouth twisted into a smirk. "It's Chinatown."
She shoved Sam forward and was out the swinging door into the restaurant in the blink of an eye. Dean swore, leapt over Sam and burst into the restaurant. The sole patron, an old man, looked up from his newspaper, glanced at his drawn gun, and went back to reading the OpEds. There was no sign of Ruby.
"Dammit!"
***
Dean sat in the Impala outside Dr. Corman's walk-up in Petworth and massaged his forehead. He had the mother of all headaches.
Henriksen had ripped him a new one for refusing to play nicely with Gordon, but he preferred that to Sam's epic Silent Treatment and disapproving look when Dean had ditched Sam and Cas at Corman's to go check in at the station. It's not that he wanted to let Cas out of his sight - Cas is hurt, that's why! - but he couldn't ignore his job. He'd managed a rushed, stilted conversation with Anna before making it back to PG County. He was being left out of the report of events at the safe house. Gabriel was in charge of covering for his spent shells, and she didn't sound happy about it.
His cell buzzed and he sighed before glancing down. Ash.
"Dude, I have so much to tell you!" Ash didn't wait for him to speak. "I've been watching and re-watching Ronald Reznick's Curtain Call, and okay, first, that dude at the end, the Constantine look-alike? I think he's the cop who found the body. I dug up the initial police report, and it says-"
"Ash," Dean interrupted.
"-reported by James Novak, only there isn't one, at least not in DC-"
"Ash," Dean said again, louder.
"-and then I thought, why do we even have this footage? And you know why?"
"Because your Constantine was trying to build a case against your Ninja Assassins and I leapt down his throat over it for nothing," Dean answered wearily.
"Um. What?"
"Never mind, Ash. Look, it's been a rough day…"
"Okay, dude, I get that. You should drink more beer. But in the meantime, I've also been going through Ronald's hard drive, and, I'm not sure, dude, but I think I found something you'd want to see yourself. But I have to go into work or else your aunt's gonna kill me."
"I need to… run an errand myself," Dean said, looking up at Corman's house. "Tomorrow, noon?"
"Gotcha. And bring me more fried chicken."
Dean hung up on him and got out of the car. He mock saluted Dr. Corman's gnomes as he made his way through the overgrown patch of lawn and up the steps to the tiny porch. Sam opened the door on his first knock.
"You owe me," he hissed at Dean. "Dr. Corman!" he called over his shoulder. "Look who's here!"
Dr. Corman huffed his way into the room and wrestled Dean into a bear hug. "That's my boy!"
"Oof. Thanks for your help, Doc," Dean said as soon as he could breathe. "How's Cas?"
"Bruised ribs, lots of cuts, won't be lifting his arms above his head for the next couple of days, slightly sprained left ankle that he was trying to pass off as fine. No concussion, though," Corman responded cheerfully. "I'd still suggest someone keep an eye on him from time to time overnight."
"That's no problem," Dean replied, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Cas would be fine. Sam cocked an eyebrow at him, and Dean cleared his throat. "So, where is he, Doc?"
"Couch!" Corman led them through a narrow hall into his living room. Cas was slumped on the couch, his foot up on the coffee table.
"Dean, just a sec." Sam tugged at his shirt sleeve and they stopped in the hall. Corman grinned at them and continued through to the living room, gently waking Cas up. "What are you going to do with him?"
"Thought I'd take him out to Bobby's." Dean shoved his hands in his pockets. Here it comes.
"I think that's a good idea," Sam said softly. Dean blinked.
"What? You do?"
"Dean. I've spent all afternoon with him while you were out doing… whatever, cop stuff. He's a fascinating person." Sam crossed his arms in front of his chest. "And I heard what that Gabriel person said. He needs a place to hide. Bobby's is the best place. I'll call him and tell him you guys are on your way."
"Well, thanks for your support, Sam," Dean said. He made to step around his brother, but Sam laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
"Look, Dean," Sam started, and Dean sighed. Okay, here's when it comes. "He's your friend," Sam continued, and Dean could hear the special emphasis Sam put on the word 'friend.' "I like him. I'm glad you found him."
"Sam," Dean said seriously. "Oprah called. She wants her ovaries back."
"You're such a jerk," Sam huffed. He stepped into the living room ahead of Dean, purposefully turning his back on him. "Dr. Corman, thank you for your hospitality and medical expertise. Cas, awesome meeting you." He shook both their hands, grabbed his jacket and pushed by Dean again.
"Thank you, Sammy!" Dean called after him. Sam waved over his shoulder, something suspiciously like a middle finger, but Dean could see him reach into his pocket to pull out his cell and call Bobby. Good boy.
"Thanks again, Doc." Dean rubbed his hands together. Cas blinked blearily up at him. The sleepy, confused look was a good one on him. "Uh, ready for a car ride, Cas? I've got the sweetest ride around."
He winced. He sounded like a fucking porno. Neither Cas nor Dr. Corman seemed to notice, though. Both men shook hands, Cas's gravelly voice saying thanks and Corman waving it off with a smile. Dean offered his shoulder, and he and Cas hobbled down the hall and out to the car, where Cas insisted on getting in on his own. Dean shut the door behind him and took a breath. A little over an hour to Bobby's, and then this wretched day would be over, and he'd have time to think. About Ruby, Crowley and Lilith. Anna, Uriel and Gabriel. Meg's crumpled body. Ash's information. He glanced at his passenger. And about Cas.
He sang about the blues in my body and soul
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: R
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Word length: ~74,000
Warnings: violence, language and sex
Summary: Detective Dean Winchester meets Homeland Security Agent Castiel James over a corpse.
Chapter IV
Well dying young I have survived
Dean swore at his phone in a blistering tirade and went running for the pay phones. There were still a couple in each station, thank God. Cas's number didn't even go to voicemail, as he expected. He dug in his pocket for change, found another couple of quarters and dialed Sam's number.
"Sammy! Listen, I need a favor…"
His brother met him in a small park on Wisconsin Ave. Dean liked it because of the view it offered (on a hill - he could see all approaches) and Sam liked it because of the view it offered (the long street winding down the hill to all the little specialty shops Jess had liked and dragged him to, before).
"Okay, Dean," Sam said, joining him at a bench. "So what is this about?"
"Thanks, Sammy." Dean glanced over his shoulder. "You weren't followed?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "Aren't you going a little overboard with this cloak and dagger business?" Dean just glared at him, and Sam continued with a sigh. "I wasn't followed. Dad taught me how to evade a tail, remember? Not a lesson I could forget."
"Sorry, man. Maybe I'm just being paranoid with this, but…"
"Nah, I trust your instincts," Sam interrupted. "You think you're being followed, someone's following you. You sure you don't want to bring in any of your cop buddies, though?"
"Yeah. I told you man, I have no fucking clue which of them I can trust." His fingers tightened around the edge of the bench. "Okay, here's the deal. I've been working with this dude from DHS, and - we had a bit of an argument. But then I found out some, uh, stuff, and it didn't seem to matter as much. So we were on the phone, he was being paranoid, but then there were these noises on the other end of the line." It sounded lame, even to his ears. I was worried about this guy I think may have been lying to me for this whole investigation, let's drop everything and go help him. And I totally jerked off to him this morning, too.
"Uh. Noises?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Fight noises. And then he got cut off."
"So… you want to help him anyway?" Sam was giving him that look now. It was the I know something about your psyche that you haven't figured out yet look. Dean hated that look.
"He knows stuff about the Crowley case he wasn't telling me. That's all." He hoped he kept the whiny defensive note out of his voice. He hoped he didn't sound sick with worry.
"Uh huh. Do you have any idea where we could find him? Or what's left of him?"
Dean glared at him. "At the end of the call, he said something about 'button' and 'pond.' Dude, we've lived here our whole lives. Do you know any Button Pond, anywhere around here?"
Sam was already nodding. "Yeah, sure. Button Gwinnett, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. The names are all up at the pond/pool thing, right by the Mall off Constitution Ave."
Dean's mouth fell open. "You are such a nerd! How do you remember this shit?"
"Dean, the man's name was 'Button.' Button! Why wouldn't I know that?"
"Whatever." Dean shrugged dismissively, already chivvying Sam along. "Come on, let's get to your car."
Sam rolled his eyes, but they both surreptitiously checked the bushes and path back to Sam's…
"Sam! What the hell happened to your car?" Dean gaped, momentarily distracted by the pink Cadillac and 'I brake for Early Bird Specials' bumper sticker.
"Um. Sarah's broke down, so I loaned her mine, and her friend Evelyn let me borrow her car. Just get in," Sam muttered.
"Dude, it's practically a boat. And what does it run on, Mary Kay rejects?" Dean yanked open the passenger door and slid in. Still, the backseat was huge, and if Cas was hurt in any way… he scowled at the thought. He checked his sidearm while Sam drove, then he checked his messages again. Nothing. His foot started tapping. Sam drummed his fingers on the wheel and chewed his lower lip. Dean schooled his features, bracing himself for Sam's eventual questions.
"You really like this guy, don't you?" Sam asked softly.
"Yeah, Sammy, I want to invite him to the prom. We're going to wear matching powder blue tuxes and hold hands," Dean answered, keeping his voice light and scoffing.
"I'm serious, man." Sam scowled, and slammed on his breaks as an Ohio plate cut them off. "Damn tourists," Sam muttered. "Look, I'm glad you've made a friend. You aren't exactly the most amiable fellow."
Dean stared at him. "'Amiable fellow'? Who are you, Jane Austen?"
"Shut up. You know what I mean."
"So, what, I'm getting penalized for spending time with my family?" Dean grumbled. He looked down at his phone for the one hundredth time, willing it to ring. He'd entered Cas's name next to his number already. Number nine on the list. What does that say, that a man I've known not even three whole days is only the ninth number I've called on this thing? And I added him to speed-dial?
"Hey, I like hanging with you. I just think-"
"Time's up, Sammy! Turn up 20th and park this beast." Sam shot him a dirty look, but did as he was told. Good boy.
Dean hopped out of the car and waited impatiently for a break in the line of cars whizzing across Constitution Ave. Sam stepped up next to him. "So what does he look like?"
"Big, dark blue eyes," Dean replied without thinking. Sam's eyebrows crawled up almost to his hairline. "Can it, buddy," Dean continued, flushing. "I'm a detective, remember? He's, uh, a couple inches shorter than me. Perma-stubble, dark hair, cleft chin, tan trench coat, wiry build."
The string of cars stopped as the light changed, finally, and they ran across the street.
"Where's this Button thing?" Dean asked, his eyes roving the grounds. No Cas, but no Uriel, either. A gaggle of toddlers tripped and waddled by, chubby fingers gripping their teacher's leading rope.
"Across that little bridge there." Sam nodded to a tiny island in the pond, and they both sped up. Dean's heart sank as they moved closer. Unless Cas was crouched down behind the stone monument, he was definitely no longer there.
Their feet thudded across the wooden bridge.
"Dean!" Sam grabbed at his arm. "Look!"
There was a broken cell phone on the ground to the far right. Dean knelt down beside it. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he said under his breath. His eyes darted frantically around the island. "Shit," he hissed as a familiar figure stepped onto the bridge. "Behind me, Sam."
Sam gave him a startled look and didn't move.
"Detective Winchester!" Gabriel Smecher's voice called out to him. "And who's this handsome behemoth? Employing a bodyguard now, are you?"
"What the fuck are you doing here, Smecher?" Dean growled, moving in front of his brother and ignoring what was undoubtedly a pissy look from Sam. Smecher's eyes lit on the broken cell in Dean's hand.
"Where's my brother?" he asked, all traces of levity gone from his voice. He stood up straighter and fixed Dean with a piercing look. For the first time since Dean had met him, Gabriel Smecher actually looked like a law enforcement agent.
"I should be asking you that," Dean said, and Smecher's eyes narrowed.
"No. No, not me." Smecher looked away, frowning. "I needed… it doesn't matter. I'll find him later." He gave Dean and Sam a mocking bow. "Return to your regularly scheduled program, gentlemen. Adieu."
He turned on his heel and strode away.
"That was weird." Sam frowned after him.
"Yeah, come on." Dean hit him lightly in the chest. "We're following him." He began to move quickly back across the bridge.
"Ow. And why?" Sam asked, easily catching up to him.
"Because there's something fishy with that prisoner transfer, Smecher's in charge, and he's got bubkis for back-up." Smecher was also parked across Constitution, good. "He was looking for Cas to get his help since Rachel bit it last night."
"Oh, that's great. We're filling in because everyone else got killed?"
Dean stopped abruptly and Sam almost fell over him. "First. Cas is not dead. He's missing. And second, you are staying in the car. You're a lawyer, not a cop. We get to wherever it is, and you wait for me. Is that clear?"
"Dean-"
"Clear? Or I'm stealing those keys and following Smecher by myself."
Sam shifted from foot to foot, then sighed. "Okay, fine. Clear."
"Good." Dean looked over his shoulder. Smecher hadn't noticed them. "Smecher drives a red Mini-Cooper. That barely qualifies as a car. But he'll be easy to follow, come on."
***
Smecher stopped by a vacant lot on the edge of Chinatown. The area had undergone a massive renovation project over the past ten years, but he had somehow managed to pick the one empty building on the block. Dean ran a hand over his face. It was still a crappy place to keep prisoners, more like a safe house than a prison. Huh.
"Okay, Sammy," Dean said, pulling out his cell and calling his brother's number. "Just keep your phone on. If I sound like I'm in trouble, you know-"
"Charge in after you, swinging my fists?" Sam suggested, answering his cell and sending up an echo.
"No, dipshit. Call 911." He ignored Sam's pissy expression and climbed out of the car. "Remember your promise, Sam," he said, half-turning and fixing his little brother with his best impression of their dad. Sam nodded, his face softening a bit.
"Be careful."
"Careful's my middle name." He flashed a cocky grin over his shoulder, and waited for an answering smirk before turning back to the building. They'd parked outside a noodle shop four doors down from the vacant building and its weedy, overgrown neighboring lot. Dean glanced surreptitiously at the other parked cars along the street. Smecher's Mini-Cooper stood out. An old clunker, an SUV and a white van occupied the other side of the street. The bright red Mini-Cooper was sandwiched between two black SUVs that just screamed 'law enforcement' over on Dean's side of the street.
"Okay, Sam, I'm going in." He slid his phone into his coat pocket and heard Sam's muffled, "You better come back out in one piece."
The doorway gaped open, the right-hand side of the door missing. It used to be an apartment building, and Dean grimaced, thinking of all the small units with even tinier rooms inside. Perfect for hiding. He took a breath and drew his sidearm.
Dean crept noiselessly through the foyer, eyes roaming over water-damaged walls and scuffed tiles, his ears pricked for the slightest noise. He froze at the sound of something crashing, shattering, on the floor above him. It was followed by a definite scream.
Dean spotted the door to the stairwell and ran to it, forcing it open with his shoulder and cursing when it rebounded loudly off the wall. He took the steps two at a time, slowing at the top and emerging, gun first, into the second floor hallway.
Whispers scuttled down the hall like so many dead leaves. He blinked rapidly and tried to focus on their source. There was a broken window at the end of the hall, in the back of the building. Perhaps it was responsible for the shattering he'd heard earlier. He moved cautiously forward.
A gust of wind rippled down the hall, and Dean froze again as doors on broken hinges flew open at its touch. All except one, the one in the back right corner. He darted into the room on its left and made his way quickly through the apartment to the window leading out onto a fire escape. His nose wrinkled. The place had obviously been used by squatters, and he pushed up hard on the window, releasing the stench of stale sweat and the sickeningly sweet odor of pipe smoke. Hashish, he noted with detached professionalism.
The fire escape creaked beneath his weight. He crouched low and picked his way carefully to the next room, raising slightly above the windowsill to see inside. What the fuck?
His three prisoners were indeed there, but they didn't look much like prisoners. Alistair, Meg and Ruby were standing, uncuffed, over the groaning body of Agent Gabriel Smecher.
"Why the fuck did you do that?" Dean's eyes widened as Agent Uriel Inger strode into the room, trailed by three agents he'd never seen before. Uriel stuck a meaty finger in Alistair's face. "You've gone too far, boy!"
Alistair chomped his teeth and Uriel drew back his hand and slapped him across the face. Dean winced. Uriel had quite the backhand.
"Enough!" Ruby broke in. "He's not going to join you, and you know it, Uriel. Would you really rather do something about it yourself? Like you did with Rachel?"
Holy shit, he is the killer! Uriel took a step towards her.
"I had her well in hand. She would never have reached Winchester." Dean started, his mind skipping frantically along the connection as Uriel continued to bite off his words. "Instead your genius partner killed her with a DHS weapon. And now Winchester's sniffing around. I am displeased."
Ruby shifted her feet and Alistair shot him a nasty look, but it was Meg who responded, sticking her lower lip out in a petulant sneer.
"We didn't tell Brady to do that, you moron. Jesus! What do you take us for?"
Brady, Brady. He'd just seen the name somewhere, recently hadn't he? One of Crowley's... The payoffs!
"What do I take you for? Chaff." Uriel smiled wide, and Dean's shoulders gave an uneasy twitch. "And I only need one of you." He raised his gun, and Dean could tell even from his perch outside that it wasn't the same, DHS-issued gun he'd sported back at Crowley's murder scene. Beside Uriel, his cronies took aim. "Unfortunately, you two ladies died trying to escape, catching Agent Smecher in the crossfire."
Ruby backed away, hands raised. "We had a deal, Uriel. If you want Lilith, you need us. All of us."
"I don't think so. Isn't that right, Alistair?" Meg gasped and turned on Alistair as Uriel trained his weapon on Gabriel, still groggy on the ground. "Kill the ladies, I've got Gabriel."
FUCK. Dean stood just as the door to the apartment crashed to the ground. He had only a moment to register a bloody Cas striding in, gun extended, before all hell broke loose.
"Call the cops, Sam!" he yelled towards his phone, and fired a shot at Uriel's arm, shattering the window. He missed, as Uriel twisted to take on Cas instead. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!
Ruby was already running out of the room towards one of the apartment's bedrooms, two of Uriel's cronies in pursuit. Meg and Alistair were fighting each other with their fists, hissing insults back and forth in a language Dean didn't recognize. The remaining crony fired at Dean, and he ducked more falling glass.
"You should have joined us, Castiel!" Uriel roared, leaping forward with surprising agility for such a large man. Dean's heart caught in his throat as Uriel's paw knocked aside Cas's gun. Cas was already so damn bloody; what had Uriel's men done to him?
"We don't bargain with terrorists, have you forgotten?" Cas grunted back, falling to his knees. Alistair and Meg collided into the crony aiming for Dean, the three of them going down in a pile of fists and kicks, and Dean got a lucky shot off at Uriel's shoulder. It clipped him, and he turned with a snarl, firing at Dean. The shot went wide, as Cas launched himself at Uriel's legs, pulling him off-balance.
Dean knocked aside the remaining shards of glass and jumped through the window, only to land on his ass as Meg leapt at him. His head hit the ground, just inches from the unseeing eyes of the DHS Agent that'd been aiming for him moments ago. Alistair stepped on his hand, hard, and Dean dropped his gun with a curse. Meg laughed and dug her knees into his chest. Before Alistair could stoop to collect the weapon, however, Gabriel revived himself enough to sweep Alistair's legs out from under him. Gabriel rose on unsteady feet and pulled his own gun.
"Gabriel! Behind you!" Cas choked out. Uriel had an arm across his throat and his gun trained on Gabriel's back. Cas's face was growing darker and darker, and Dean felt a bloodthirsty rage infuse his limbs. He threw Meg off his chest. She went flying into the wall, hitting it at a weird angle, and fell, still.
Time seemed to slow as Dean took in the scene. Had he just - had he just killed Meg? Alistair was staring at him, hatred in his eyes, despite the fact he had sold her out to Uriel less than half an hour ago. Gabriel was looking from Alistair to Uriel, trying to gauge which was the biggest threat. And Uriel was still choking the life out of Cas, Cas's feet drumming the floor.
"I will deal with you, boy." Uriel's eyes cut to him, full of the promise of his death, only to open wide in surprise. Blood trickled out of his mouth and his arms dropped Cas and his gun. Cas fell to the floor with a gasp.
"Not if I deal with you first, traitor," Anna said grimly, shoving him off her long knife. Dean stared at her, uncomprehending, but Gabriel didn't waste time.
"Come on, Anna. We still have this one." He held his gun steady on Alistair as Anna picked her way through the debris, pulling out her cuffs. Alistair bared his teeth at her in a parody of a grin, and she casually backhanded him. He slumped at her feet, a gray stain against the weather-beaten wooden floor. Anna's red hair brushed the yellow FBI on her blue jacket, the colors popping to Dean's eyes. It was so surreal. How was Anna even there? He shook himself and hurried to Cas's side and knelt beside him.
"Cas? You okay?" Cas hissed in pain when he touched him, and Dean gritted his teeth as he tried to gently wipe at the blood at Cas's temple. Sirens sounded from outside.
"What took you so long?" Gabriel asked Anna. She arched an eyebrow at him.
"You wanted this to be official, Gabriel. There are certain protocols, you know." She turned to Dean and Cas. "You sure know how to pick them, Dean. That man-"
"Leave off, Anna," Dean cut in harshly, sliding his arms carefully around Cas to haul him upright. She narrowed her eyes, but Gabriel spoke first.
"Look, Dean-o. Uriel's going to have arranged for Rachel's death to look like Castiel's doing. Can you stash him somewhere for a week or so while I unravel this mess?"
"Of course I can. What are you going to do about Lilith?" Cas was leaning against him, his breath coming in ragged pants against his neck, and Dean found it a little hard to focus. "Ruby, did she get away?"
Gabriel glanced into the other room. "Fuck, she took out two Agents. Turncoats, but still."
Footsteps sounded in the hall below, voices calling out for identification - FBI and DCPD.
"You need to get him out of here, right now. Use the fire escape," Gabriel commanded him. "I'll be in touch, just GO!"
Dean was already moving to the broken window, half-carrying Cas. He spared one last glance at Meg's crumpled body, and then they were outside. A patrol car blocked the end of the narrow alley between the apartments and the building next door, a restaurant.
"Sam? Can you hear me?" Dean whispered.
"Jesus, Dean! You all just - so many laws - dude!" sounded from his coat pocket.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll explain later. Help me get Cas out, all right? Kitchen of the place a few doors down from the noodle shop."
He could hear Sam grumbling, "Cops everywhere, fucking disbarred," but Dean tuned him out and concentrated on getting Cas down the fire escape. His eyes were a little glassy and his breath came labored and loud. His hand was tight around Dean's neck, though, and they stumbled to the ladder.
"I'm going to go down first, then you drop and I'll catch you," Dean told him. Cas just nodded, eyes drooping. "Hey, you with me? You okay?"
"My brother just tried to kill me. How do you think I feel?" Cas gritted out. Dean recoiled.
"Shit, Cas. Just - just hold it together for a little bit longer, okay?" He waited for the other man's exhausted nod before starting down the ladder. It was only a matter of time before the cops decided to check out the alley instead of just blocking it off. More sirens were arriving. Dean jumped the last few feet and looked back up, holding out his arms. Cas met his gaze.
A jolt ran through him at the expression in those blue eyes. Even after Cas's harsh words from that morning, after his disillusionment with his brother agents and whatever had happened to him at the pond, Cas trusted him to catch him. It had been a long time since someone had looked at him like that, more than fifteen years, and Dean had pushed him away, ignoring his hurt, ignoring his own feelings.
Cas fell silently through the air. Dean grunted with the impact, but couldn't resist taking one tiny moment to fist his hands in the folds of the trench coat and hold Cas to him. Bruised and bloodied, for sure, but whole. He cleared his throat.
"Come on." They staggered a few feet to the kitchen door just as it opened. Sam lurked in the doorway, a small first aid kit in his hand, 'Evelyn Fielding' stamped on its lid.
"Found this in the car," he said by way of greeting. "There's a bathroom across the hall. Your friend should change his bloody coat, too. The street is swarming with cops."
"Good thinking," Dean praised him. "Cas, this is my brother, Sam. Sam, Cas."
Between the two of them, the Winchesters managed to hustle Cas into the tiny bathroom. The cooks in the kitchen didn't even look up, and Dean raised his eyebrow at Sam. Sam grimaced. "I just bought a couple dozen dumplings," he mouthed.
"I love dumplings." Dean grinned at him. Sam rolled his eyes in response.
"Tight fit in here. I'm going to keep an eye on the street. You take care of the… clothing situation." Sam backed out of the bathroom, bumping his head, and pulled the door closed behind him.
"Your brother is very kind," Cas muttered.
"Yeah, I think I'll keep him," Dean said without thinking, and wanted to swallow his own foot at the flicker of pain across Cas's face. "Uh, here, off with the coat."
He busied himself with sliding Cas's arms out of his trench coat and suit jacket as gently as he could. "Here, you wear my jacket, that will cover some of these stains," Dean said, eyeing the blood and dirt on Cas's formerly white dress shirt and shucking off his leather jacket. "I know a doctor. He won't ask questions, don't worry. I'll just get the rest of the blood off your face here-"
"It's too quiet in the kitchen," Cas interrupted his babbling. Dean shut his mouth. They both drew their guns, and Dean reached for the door.
The two cooks were staring into their pots like the scalding water contained the secrets of the universe. Sam stood in the middle of the kitchen, hands in the air, Ruby behind him with a large butcher's knife pressed to his back.
"Dean-" Sam started, his voice strangled.
"Shush, Gigantor," Ruby chided. "Look, Winchester. That's you, right? And your little friend, Castiel? Didn't want to be Uriel Inger's bitch?"
"Looked to me like you were willing to play that role," Dean said, shifting left as Cas shifted right.
"Don't move, or I'll gut the giant!" Ruby pressed the knife harder against Sam's back and he let out an inadvertent gasp. "I just need a minute of your time. A minute!"
Dean stilled and saw Cas do likewise out of the corner of his eye. "Why?"
"You want to stop Lilith. I want to stop Lilith. We're on the same side here."
"You have a knife to my brother's back. That tends to change things."
Ruby scowled at him. "You're going about Lilith in the wrong way. Uriel wanted to lure her out into the open, chop off her head and get all the glory. Then he could put his own man in charge." Her eyes darted to Cas. "Come on, you had to know he was rotten."
Cas just glared at her.
"Why are you telling us this?" Dean asked, drawing her attention back to him.
"Lilith's a snake. She's not going to give you the opportunity to cut off her head, not unless you prove to her you're worth it. You want to draw her out? You need to cut off her money supply."
Dean's heart began to beat faster as his mind whirled. The financial records Cas had found, payoffs to Brady, who tried to stop Rachel from getting to Dean with information. Brady, who worked for Crowley.
"Crowley was the money man," he whispered. Ruby nodded, a ghost of a smile playing across her lips.
"Nice work, Sherlock. You focus on that. I'm leaving town."
Dean shook his head. "Why would you turn on them? Aren't they-"
"My family?" Ruby barked a short laugh. "Forget it, Winchester." Her mouth twisted into a smirk. "It's Chinatown."
She shoved Sam forward and was out the swinging door into the restaurant in the blink of an eye. Dean swore, leapt over Sam and burst into the restaurant. The sole patron, an old man, looked up from his newspaper, glanced at his drawn gun, and went back to reading the OpEds. There was no sign of Ruby.
"Dammit!"
***
Dean sat in the Impala outside Dr. Corman's walk-up in Petworth and massaged his forehead. He had the mother of all headaches.
Henriksen had ripped him a new one for refusing to play nicely with Gordon, but he preferred that to Sam's epic Silent Treatment and disapproving look when Dean had ditched Sam and Cas at Corman's to go check in at the station. It's not that he wanted to let Cas out of his sight - Cas is hurt, that's why! - but he couldn't ignore his job. He'd managed a rushed, stilted conversation with Anna before making it back to PG County. He was being left out of the report of events at the safe house. Gabriel was in charge of covering for his spent shells, and she didn't sound happy about it.
His cell buzzed and he sighed before glancing down. Ash.
"Dude, I have so much to tell you!" Ash didn't wait for him to speak. "I've been watching and re-watching Ronald Reznick's Curtain Call, and okay, first, that dude at the end, the Constantine look-alike? I think he's the cop who found the body. I dug up the initial police report, and it says-"
"Ash," Dean interrupted.
"-reported by James Novak, only there isn't one, at least not in DC-"
"Ash," Dean said again, louder.
"-and then I thought, why do we even have this footage? And you know why?"
"Because your Constantine was trying to build a case against your Ninja Assassins and I leapt down his throat over it for nothing," Dean answered wearily.
"Um. What?"
"Never mind, Ash. Look, it's been a rough day…"
"Okay, dude, I get that. You should drink more beer. But in the meantime, I've also been going through Ronald's hard drive, and, I'm not sure, dude, but I think I found something you'd want to see yourself. But I have to go into work or else your aunt's gonna kill me."
"I need to… run an errand myself," Dean said, looking up at Corman's house. "Tomorrow, noon?"
"Gotcha. And bring me more fried chicken."
Dean hung up on him and got out of the car. He mock saluted Dr. Corman's gnomes as he made his way through the overgrown patch of lawn and up the steps to the tiny porch. Sam opened the door on his first knock.
"You owe me," he hissed at Dean. "Dr. Corman!" he called over his shoulder. "Look who's here!"
Dr. Corman huffed his way into the room and wrestled Dean into a bear hug. "That's my boy!"
"Oof. Thanks for your help, Doc," Dean said as soon as he could breathe. "How's Cas?"
"Bruised ribs, lots of cuts, won't be lifting his arms above his head for the next couple of days, slightly sprained left ankle that he was trying to pass off as fine. No concussion, though," Corman responded cheerfully. "I'd still suggest someone keep an eye on him from time to time overnight."
"That's no problem," Dean replied, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Cas would be fine. Sam cocked an eyebrow at him, and Dean cleared his throat. "So, where is he, Doc?"
"Couch!" Corman led them through a narrow hall into his living room. Cas was slumped on the couch, his foot up on the coffee table.
"Dean, just a sec." Sam tugged at his shirt sleeve and they stopped in the hall. Corman grinned at them and continued through to the living room, gently waking Cas up. "What are you going to do with him?"
"Thought I'd take him out to Bobby's." Dean shoved his hands in his pockets. Here it comes.
"I think that's a good idea," Sam said softly. Dean blinked.
"What? You do?"
"Dean. I've spent all afternoon with him while you were out doing… whatever, cop stuff. He's a fascinating person." Sam crossed his arms in front of his chest. "And I heard what that Gabriel person said. He needs a place to hide. Bobby's is the best place. I'll call him and tell him you guys are on your way."
"Well, thanks for your support, Sam," Dean said. He made to step around his brother, but Sam laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
"Look, Dean," Sam started, and Dean sighed. Okay, here's when it comes. "He's your friend," Sam continued, and Dean could hear the special emphasis Sam put on the word 'friend.' "I like him. I'm glad you found him."
"Sam," Dean said seriously. "Oprah called. She wants her ovaries back."
"You're such a jerk," Sam huffed. He stepped into the living room ahead of Dean, purposefully turning his back on him. "Dr. Corman, thank you for your hospitality and medical expertise. Cas, awesome meeting you." He shook both their hands, grabbed his jacket and pushed by Dean again.
"Thank you, Sammy!" Dean called after him. Sam waved over his shoulder, something suspiciously like a middle finger, but Dean could see him reach into his pocket to pull out his cell and call Bobby. Good boy.
"Thanks again, Doc." Dean rubbed his hands together. Cas blinked blearily up at him. The sleepy, confused look was a good one on him. "Uh, ready for a car ride, Cas? I've got the sweetest ride around."
He winced. He sounded like a fucking porno. Neither Cas nor Dr. Corman seemed to notice, though. Both men shook hands, Cas's gravelly voice saying thanks and Corman waving it off with a smile. Dean offered his shoulder, and he and Cas hobbled down the hall and out to the car, where Cas insisted on getting in on his own. Dean shut the door behind him and took a breath. A little over an hour to Bobby's, and then this wretched day would be over, and he'd have time to think. About Ruby, Crowley and Lilith. Anna, Uriel and Gabriel. Meg's crumpled body. Ash's information. He glanced at his passenger. And about Cas.
He sang about the blues in my body and soul