[Fic] Sin with a Grin - Chapter 12/18+Epilogue
Title: Sin with a Grin
Author: Stolen Childe
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all associated characters belong to Kripke and Co. I make absolutely no claims on any of them.
Special Thanks to dapperscript for the wonderful beta! Thank you!
Please see Master Post for Notes, Cover Art and Further Information
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Dean dragged himself over the threshold of their apartment, the smells and warmth of home falling over him in a soothing cascade. He felt like it had been longer than a week since he’d last been home and he was more than ready to slump down the short hallway and curl up next to Cas. Dean tossed his bag at the front door, intending to do just that when he caught the sound of a low and somewhat angry voice from the kitchen.
Dean frowned and walked towards the sound. It could only really be Castiel and Dean had to wonder what could get the man so riled.
“Look, I’m sure it was all right. Gabriel, would you shut up for ten seconds, please? What makes you think-Dean, hello.”
“Ah hey, Cas.”
“Gabriel, I have to go. No, I’m not going to call you later. I wouldn’t have answered your call just now if you hadn’t called from Balthazar’s cell phone. Good bye.” Castiel ended the call and tossed the phone onto the kitchen table. The heavy Blackberry landed with a clatter that made Dean wince a little.
“Sorry,” Castiel said gently.
“What was that all about?” Dean asked, looking pointedly at Castiel’s phone.
“Nothing, just my brother-in-law trying to psychoanalyse me again. I always assume he gave up on that years ago, you’d think I would learn by now,” a self-deprecating smile on the older man’s part, and then Castiel was walking across the room and wrapping his arms around Dean.
“Welcome home.”
“Thanks. Man, am I beat. Bed?” Dean asked hopefully.
Castiel smiled softly and sadly, “I have some paperwork to finish up, but you go ahead. I’ll be in as soon as I’m done.”
Dean felt a strange little twist in his gut that he couldn’t quite put a finger on, then nodded a little distractedly and wandered down the hall, leaving Castiel alone in the kitchen.
Did you fuck her, Cas?
Castiel winced as Gabriel’s voice echoed for a moment in his mind and tried to shake it off. Gabriel had been quizzing him about the subject of Meg ever since Castiel had admitted to his little black-out the night he got spectacularly drunk. Castiel was more than certain he did not, in fact, have sex with his ex-girlfriend that night, but he wasn’t one-hundred per cent sure he was completely guiltless in the entire fiasco either. That made him incredibly uncomfortable.
The blue-eyed man twirled Dean’s ring around his finger as he slumped heavily down on one of their kitchen chairs. He found every little knick and scratch with the calloused pads of his thumb and sighed. His collar bone began to ache a little again and though it was essentially healed, Castiel knew he should be gentler with it. His time at the range this morning hadn’t helped the ache, and he was regretting the action a little. Sam wanted to hurry and re-qualify, though, and even if Castiel personally would have given it another week, he couldn’t ignore the younger man’s eagerness. They were both more than itching to get back out in the field.
Castiel allowed himself to slump down over his crossed arms on the table in front of him, and jumped a little when his phone chirped at him. Curious and half-dreading, Castiel reached over to check the message. It was from Sam.
u up for dicks?
Castiel smirked. Always. But I’m sure that’s not what you were intending.
Luv me some auto-correct… drinks u bastard
How often exactly do you use the word ‘dick’ when texting? Dean’s in bed.
Hell if i know… Sallright, u and me.
Fine. The Cellie?
C u in 10
Castiel figured he couldn’t just leave the apartment when Dean was expecting him to come to bed, but he really could use a drink and Sam sounded as if he could use one as well if the late night text was any indication. Castiel wandered to their bedroom and woke Dean with a kiss. The younger man murmured happily and moved to pull Castiel down next to him.
“Dean, I’m going to go see your brother. I’ll be back later.”
“But Cas…”
“I know. I’ll be back later. Just go back to sleep. You’ll have me all weekend. I promise.”
Dean nodded and rolled over without even offering a kiss good-bye. Castiel figured he deserved it. He shucked off his pajama pants and slipped into a pair of jeans. They hung low around his hips and smelled faintly of chalk - Dean’s. He grabbed his gun, badge, keys, and wallet, and quietly left the room.
xx
Castiel showed up at Sam’s door in ratty Converse, a pale grey Henley, and his borrowed jeans and Sam just quirked a brow at him.
“You raiding my brother’s closet again?”
“Dean’s clothes are always within the easiest reach for some reason. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t. You DD tonight?” Sam asked as they climbed into Castiel’s SUV. Castiel nodded, he only really intended on having one beer. He hadn’t really been one for overindulging as of late. Not after last time.
Sam continued, “You know, that’s one thing I’ve always envied about you two.”
“What?” Castiel furrowed his brow in confusion, though he was used to Sam’s non-sequiturs since they’d known one another so long. Dean did the same thing sometimes.
“The access to clothes. You know how much time I’ve spent digging through Jess’s stuff to find mine? You guys can just grab whatever.”
“Even if Jess was a man, I’m fairly certain you couldn’t fit your over-grown body into her clothes.”
Sam rolled his eyes, “You’re sweet.”
“I do try.”
Castiel let the silence linger for a moment as he wove his way through the quiet streets. He looked over towards Sam every once and a while before finally broaching the subject, “So what’s got you so bothered tonight?”
Sam jumped a little and flashed a guilty smile. “That obvious, huh?”
“After figuring Dean out, you’re not really that much more difficult to read. You basically learned everything from him anyway.”
“Ah, gotcha.” Sam shrugged a little. “Wedding stuff, the baby, getting back to work. I could use the stress relief.”
“Not getting laid, huh?” Castiel asked matter-of-factly.
“Dude, you’re creepy as shit when you do that.”
“So I’ve been told.” Castiel’s next glance was all forced empathy. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not getting any either.”
Sam scrunched up his nose. “If we were just regular friends, that wouldn’t bother me. Brother-sex, Man…” Sam shook his head. Castiel chuckled, a low rumbling that Sam knew Dean loved.
“So you and Dean on the rocks again?” Sam asked cautiously.
Castiel shrugged. “More a lull than rocks. He’s a little irritated that he has to break confidence in regards to the students. Also, he’s been out of town for a week and I’ve just abandoned him to go drink with his brother. I’m not exactly going to be getting any gold stars any time soon.”
“That would be all kinds of wrong if he actually gave you gold stars.”
Castiel chuckled again, “Rest assured, he doesn’t.”
“You guys will work it out… I’ve noticed Gabriel’s been hounding you a lot more lately. What’s up there?”
Castiel felt his hands go cold for a second and his shoulders tense. The one problem with one of your best friends being your boyfriend’s brother was that there were just things you could not talk about. Castiel shot another glance over at Sam and hoped he was concealing his anxiety well enough. He hardly doubted Sam would take kindly to Castiel admitting that he sort of, kind of, possibly cheated on Dean while drinking but couldn’t remember it clearly enough to be sure.
Castiel’s answer was cautious and about as truthful as he was willing to make it, “Dean. Gabe’s concerned about Dean being away so much with this case. He just wants to make sure that I’m handling it all right.”
Sam nodded. “Understandable. I imagine it’s prett-” Sam cut himself off abruptly and Castiel shot quick repeated glances over at his partner, splitting his attention between Sam and the road.
“What is it?”
“Slow down,” Sam said, switching his tone to all-business in a moment.
Castiel eased off the gas and did as he was told. He tracked Sam’s gaze the best he could while watching the road and saw what had captured Sam’s attention. There were several black and silver Land Rovers parked along the side of a building that looked far too dark to have that many vehicles scattered around it. At least to their trained eyes.
“Crowley’s chariot of choice,” Castiel mused.
“Do you have your…” Sam asked hurriedly and made an obscure flapping motion with his hand. Castiel nodded at the glove compartment. Sam opened it and reached in, pulling out Castiel’s tablet and signing in with his Bureau ID. Castiel casually turned the corner and took his time as he passed the building.
“You get a number?” Sam asked.
“Twenty-five thirty.”
A few moments of nearly soundless tapping on the touch screen and Sam started back a little, “This building is owned by the Morningstar Corporation.”
“What?” Castiel snapped out. “So close to-”
“I know. I know. But it’s right here. Lilith’s dad owns this place. If not Lilith herself. I can’t get anything beyond Morningstar in the database. Why the hell would Crowley’s men be crawling all over one of Morningstar’s properties?”
“Sam, I seem to recall sounds of distress as we were passing that building.”
“Why, Castiel, I heard them too.”
“I believe it is our duty as Federal Agents to investigate, lest anyone is in need of our assistance.”
“Call it in,” Sam nodded firmly.
Castiel did just that and eased the SUV into an alley a few blocks away from the building. Crowley’s Aston Martin and Lilith’s Lexus were nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t mean either of them hadn’t changed vehicles for the occasion.
“Secret tryst?” Castiel suggested.
Sam made a face. “Doubt it. I don’t think even Lilith and Crowley are kinky enough to have this much of an audience… You just wanted to use the word ‘tryst’ didn’t you?”
Castiel gave a half-hearted little shrug and a grin before nodding for Sam to take point. “I like the word.”
“You’re so weird. No wonder you and my brother get along so well.” Sam moved into the lead and walked cautiously towards the building. They stayed out of the light as much as possible and cut into an alley, hurriedly jogging to the end where they came to a fence between the brick.
“Of course,” Castiel stated blandly.
“Up you go,” Sam holstered his gun and crouched a little. Castiel nodded and went towards Sam at a bit of a jog before placing his sneakered foot in Sam’s hand a reaching for the support bar at the top of the chain link. His toes were narrowed enough that he could have scaled it, but this was faster. Castiel swung around so he was at the far side of the fence and shimmed over until he was braced enough to hoist Sam after him. Sam scaled part-way and then used the assistance of Castiel’s momentum to finish the climb. They landed on the greasy asphalt below, Castiel soundless as he dropped and Sam only making the faintest of noise with his heavier boots.
Sam moved forward inch by inch, steps now silent in the night, and Castiel grinned a little. “Another trick learned at your brother’s knee?”
“Hey, there wasn’t much to do in Lawrence. B&E was a way to pass the time. The trick was not getting caught. We used to sneak into old abandoned houses at first, and then moved on to occupied buildings. Only Dean ever did the more serious stuff, though,” Sam shrugged.
Castiel shook his head and thought briefly on what Dean’s life would have been like if he wasn’t so damn lucky all the time. He’d only ever got caught once when he was fourteen, and those records were sealed. Castiel caught motion from somewhere ahead of Sam and shot out a hand. He laid his palm flat on Sam’s chest and pushed the other man up against the wall. Sam looked startled until he heard the footsteps as a man’s silhouette came into view. Castiel and Sam shared a look before grinning and flattening themselves against the brick with silent laughter.
“Jesus, these bastards are sly. What the fuck do you think they’re up to?” Sam whispered.
“That is precisely what we are here to discover, Dear Watson,” Castiel whispered back in a faux English accent.
“You and your Downey Jr. obsession, I swear…” Sam shook his head.
Castiel could only offer a shrug as he turned serious and took the lead this time. Sam moved with surprising skill for such a large man but Castiel still had the quicker eye and the sharper intuition. He studiously ignored the dull throb in his collarbone and adjusted the grip on his Glock as they moved around the corner.
“Door,” Castiel mouthed, gesturing with his head. Sam nodded, looked briefly left and right, before running at a crouch toward the metal slab. He dug around the inside of his jacket pocket while Castiel covered him. Sam made quick work of the lock and stood, pressing his body flat against one side of the frame while Castiel skittered across the lot and pressed flat against the other. Sam reached forward and grabbed the handle and counted silently from three on his fingers. Just as he closed his index down, he pulled open the door and Castiel darted inside. Sam followed a moment later and the two ducked against the wall.
“Catwalks,” Castiel whispered.
Sam shrugged in a ‘good a place as any’ gesture and looked around until he found the ladder. It was to the right of them and above their heads, leading up from the metal decks that spanned the building. “The stairs are going to be a bitch to stay quiet on.”
Castiel didn’t doubt that. The staircase was the perforated metal kind that had a penchant for rattling despite best efforts. Other than where they were at the entrance, the building was essentially wide open space and then a dark corridor that disappeared into the belly of the building at the far end. They walls looked to be hastily constructed and did not reach the girder ceiling of the warehouse.
“What is this place?” Sam wondered aloud, frowning.
Castiel could only shrug in response. This was an area mostly of store fronts and apartment blocks. Finding a warehouse this size in the middle of it was strange.
“Factory, maybe?” Castiel offered.
“God knows what Crowley and Lilith would be manufacturing together,” Sam remarked darkly.
“Let’s go. I’m sure all the action is beyond those partitions,” Castiel whispered.
“I’ll go up, you cover me,” Sam offered.
Castiel nodded. The older agent rose steadily up from his crouch and kept keen eyes peeled for any disturbance. He tried to ignore the way his heart hammered in his chest at how eerily reminiscent this place was to the last murky old building he’d crawled into and got blown up at.
Castiel winced and was jolted back to the present with the rumbling of the metal stairs behind him, which could not resist shuddering even with Sam’s gentle tread. Castiel tensed and waited but no one came to investigate and Cas skulked over at Sam’s gentle whistle. Though the rubber of his sneaker soles was practically inaudible with his soft steps, the too-long hem of Dean’s jeans swished along the smooth floor with each movement. Castiel cursed mentally but made it up the stairs without incident and shimmied up the ladder after Sam.
“All right, it branches off,” Sam remarked unnecessarily, as Castiel saw that clear enough for himself once they crested the landing.
Castiel nodded and narrowed his eyes as he puzzled through the next step. He very much wanted to investigate that corridor across the building, but there was a path directly ahead that could be just as promising. Last time Castiel split up with a partner and ventured on alone, it didn’t end well. He may be hesitant to do it again but Sam had more experience than Rachel had… Castiel caught his lip, a borrowed gesture from Dean, before releasing it and making his decision.
“You go straight. I want to see what’s down that hallway,” Castiel said.
“Okay, sounds good. Meet you back here in… Twenty?”
“Make it fifteen.” With a terse nod, Castiel, gun drawn, cut a quick path down the left side catwalk while Sam moved off ahead.
Castiel watched the younger Winchester’s back fade, before allowing himself to move any further down and tried to relax his tense shoulders as he went. There was no way that Crowley’s men or Lilith’s could possibly know they were here. This had not been at all planned, and though it was probably not an award winning decision on Castiel’s part, Sam had backed him fully in it and they were here now. Neither of them could pass up such an opportunity, and neither of them was really known for their restraint.
Sam used to be, of course, but Castiel tended to be a bad influence on Winchesters, and Winchesters were a worse influence on one another. Impulsive decision making seemed to run in the family and Castiel was no better. Never had been when it came to battle and investigation. Castiel had a tendency to luck out however, because impulsive he may be with a notable lack of consultation, but his pop fly decisions often worked out in the end. Dean’s too, and John’s. Sam fit right in with his father and brother, and Castiel knew Sam was more than capable of handling himself. That finally knocked out the last of Castiel’s anxiety as he moved with new purpose to his mysterious corridor.
He slowed his steps as he approached and strained to hear if it really had been voices that caught his ear or a mere trick of the building. Castiel crept forward on the catwalk and was rewarded with the sight of two suited men bending towards one another to discuss something. Castiel hushed his breath and eased his steps and hoped fervently that neither of the two men had a sudden inclination to look up. Soft as sin and comfortable as Dean’s grey Henley might be, the colour did not make for good camouflage against the shadows of the building’s ceiling.
Castiel made himself as small as possible and crept forward inch-by-inch in an awkward crouch, his gun held in both hands in front of him.
“He’s determined to get the business up and running again after that damned agent took it out two years ago. He knows the only way to do it is work with his ex-fuck, so he’s doing it. Doesn’t mean he’s happy about it.”
“I still don’t see how he’ll pull anything like this off. If they’re gone, they’re gone, ain’t they?”
“Always can get more, Wayne, you should know this by now. He just needs a pair of eyes to look the other way and sometimes you have to make deals to do it.”
“So when’s he want this up and running by?”
“Going down in the new year. Gonna spring the trap at Christmas. Think you can do it?”
“Anything for the right price, Azazel . Grossman and I can get started as soon as we have the funds.”
“Sounds like a-”
Castiel just about dived off the catwalk when the crack of gunfire echoed loud and long down the building. Azazel and Wayne shared a brief, startled glance before both men ran off down the corridor and into the main room. Castiel used every ounce of strength he possessed to wait a beat before following so the clatter of his footsteps wouldn’t be heard too clearly over the scuffle.
Castiel, with every last, lingering shred of faith he had, prayed that Sam was all right as he took off after the two men. He tore down the catwalk in the direction Sam had taken. The agent’s wholly unpractical runners slid unsettlingly on the metal below his feet. Castiel slowed when he saw Sam kneeling on the concrete with his arms behind his back, a gun under his chin and a faceless thug holding his neck back by his hair.
“Fuck,” Castiel whispered. He crept ever-so-slowly forward when he realized what must have given Sam away. A horrible creaking shriek split the relative quiet of the warehouse as the girder gave below Castiel’s weight. He scrambled to get on even ground again but his rubber soles scrabbled uselessly on the perforated metal. He slid down the catwalk as it tumbled, managing to swing around with gun drawn as he landed in a crouch on the dusty floor below.
The one good thing that came of the entire fiasco was that he provided enough of a distraction for Sam to break the hold the men had on him and scramble behind a few stacked crates for cover. Firing, Castiel took after him and the two leaned against the wood while Crowley’s men regrouped.
“Get them,” Azazel hissed.
“Fuck me,” Sam cursed, ducking as a bullet whizzed by over his head.
“Love to, really, a Winchester sandwich is what I always dreamed of, but not really the time for propositions,” Castiel gritted out, firing blindly over his head.
“Bastard,” Sam replied, though he had a grin on his face.
“Nothing like a firefight, right Samuel?”
“Brings back fond memories, does it?”
“All kinds.”
“God, this was basically the worst idea ever,” Sam shifted around to peer over the crates, calculating for a moment before firing off two clean shots and dropping one of their attackers. He ducked hastily back behind the crate as another volley of bullets whizzed overhead.
“We don’t have enough ammunition,” Castiel remarked unnecessarily.
“No kidding,” Sam returned.
“So how the fuck do we get out of this one?”
“Such a potty mouth, Cas, Man. I swear I’m fighting with Dean right now.”
“Yes, well your brother is a horrible influence on me. I count five cronies, and Azazel makes six.”
“I have about four rounds left,” Sam answered.
“Two.”
“So that’s fine, just don’t miss. All right?”
“Sure thing. I’ll take the two on the left, you take the four on the right.”
“If only one of us survives this and it’s you, Dean can have my collection of fuzzy socks.”
“All right. If it’s you, let Gabriel know that he gets all my tacky ties.”
“He’ll love it.”
“And no crying at my funeral.”
“Deal,” Sam nodded, they shared a glace for a moment before on the silent count of three, they rolled free from their cover.
Castiel came up into one of the thug’s personal space and smashed his elbow in the man’s nose. He man let out a yowl and backed away. Castiel brought his arm up and fired clean into the centre of the man’s forehead before rounding on the other and firing at the man’s chest. Both went down and Castiel rushed over to help Sam. His gun was useless now, but Castiel’s right hook wasn’t. The blue-eyed agent ducked a punch before rounding and flattening the man to the floor. Sam turned in time to fire two more consecutive shots and all that remained was one bullet and Azazel cowering on the floor.
“Well that went far better than expected,” Castiel remarked, thoroughly surprised as he and Sam approached Azazel.
“You cops are all the same,” Azazel sneered.
“We aren’t cops,” Sam said.
“We’re Federal Agents.”
“And you are under arrest-” before Sam could finish, Azazel scrambled over and picked up a discarded gun, rounding on Castiel.
Sam raised his gun to fire, and just when he was going to squeeze the trigger, Castiel turned wide eyes to see Sam slumping to his knees, staring dumbly down at the pool of red slowly seeping into his shirt on his chest.
Castiel reacted before he could think, snatched up Sam’s gun from his loosened grip, and turned to fire at the attacker. A young black man blinked and fell, a long silver blade falling free from his slack hand; when Castiel turned back to Azazel, the man was already running down the hallway. Sirens sounded in the distance and Castiel fought the tears that threated to spill free as he scrambled over to his would-be brother-in-law and placed pressure on the wound in the younger man’s chest.
End Chapter
Previous | Master Post | Interlude II: Dirty Laundry | Next
Author: Stolen Childe
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all associated characters belong to Kripke and Co. I make absolutely no claims on any of them.
Special Thanks to dapperscript for the wonderful beta! Thank you!
Please see Master Post for Notes, Cover Art and Further Information
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Dean dragged himself over the threshold of their apartment, the smells and warmth of home falling over him in a soothing cascade. He felt like it had been longer than a week since he’d last been home and he was more than ready to slump down the short hallway and curl up next to Cas. Dean tossed his bag at the front door, intending to do just that when he caught the sound of a low and somewhat angry voice from the kitchen.
Dean frowned and walked towards the sound. It could only really be Castiel and Dean had to wonder what could get the man so riled.
“Look, I’m sure it was all right. Gabriel, would you shut up for ten seconds, please? What makes you think-Dean, hello.”
“Ah hey, Cas.”
“Gabriel, I have to go. No, I’m not going to call you later. I wouldn’t have answered your call just now if you hadn’t called from Balthazar’s cell phone. Good bye.” Castiel ended the call and tossed the phone onto the kitchen table. The heavy Blackberry landed with a clatter that made Dean wince a little.
“Sorry,” Castiel said gently.
“What was that all about?” Dean asked, looking pointedly at Castiel’s phone.
“Nothing, just my brother-in-law trying to psychoanalyse me again. I always assume he gave up on that years ago, you’d think I would learn by now,” a self-deprecating smile on the older man’s part, and then Castiel was walking across the room and wrapping his arms around Dean.
“Welcome home.”
“Thanks. Man, am I beat. Bed?” Dean asked hopefully.
Castiel smiled softly and sadly, “I have some paperwork to finish up, but you go ahead. I’ll be in as soon as I’m done.”
Dean felt a strange little twist in his gut that he couldn’t quite put a finger on, then nodded a little distractedly and wandered down the hall, leaving Castiel alone in the kitchen.
Did you fuck her, Cas?
Castiel winced as Gabriel’s voice echoed for a moment in his mind and tried to shake it off. Gabriel had been quizzing him about the subject of Meg ever since Castiel had admitted to his little black-out the night he got spectacularly drunk. Castiel was more than certain he did not, in fact, have sex with his ex-girlfriend that night, but he wasn’t one-hundred per cent sure he was completely guiltless in the entire fiasco either. That made him incredibly uncomfortable.
The blue-eyed man twirled Dean’s ring around his finger as he slumped heavily down on one of their kitchen chairs. He found every little knick and scratch with the calloused pads of his thumb and sighed. His collar bone began to ache a little again and though it was essentially healed, Castiel knew he should be gentler with it. His time at the range this morning hadn’t helped the ache, and he was regretting the action a little. Sam wanted to hurry and re-qualify, though, and even if Castiel personally would have given it another week, he couldn’t ignore the younger man’s eagerness. They were both more than itching to get back out in the field.
Castiel allowed himself to slump down over his crossed arms on the table in front of him, and jumped a little when his phone chirped at him. Curious and half-dreading, Castiel reached over to check the message. It was from Sam.
u up for dicks?
Castiel smirked. Always. But I’m sure that’s not what you were intending.
Luv me some auto-correct… drinks u bastard
How often exactly do you use the word ‘dick’ when texting? Dean’s in bed.
Hell if i know… Sallright, u and me.
Fine. The Cellie?
C u in 10
Castiel figured he couldn’t just leave the apartment when Dean was expecting him to come to bed, but he really could use a drink and Sam sounded as if he could use one as well if the late night text was any indication. Castiel wandered to their bedroom and woke Dean with a kiss. The younger man murmured happily and moved to pull Castiel down next to him.
“Dean, I’m going to go see your brother. I’ll be back later.”
“But Cas…”
“I know. I’ll be back later. Just go back to sleep. You’ll have me all weekend. I promise.”
Dean nodded and rolled over without even offering a kiss good-bye. Castiel figured he deserved it. He shucked off his pajama pants and slipped into a pair of jeans. They hung low around his hips and smelled faintly of chalk - Dean’s. He grabbed his gun, badge, keys, and wallet, and quietly left the room.
xx
Castiel showed up at Sam’s door in ratty Converse, a pale grey Henley, and his borrowed jeans and Sam just quirked a brow at him.
“You raiding my brother’s closet again?”
“Dean’s clothes are always within the easiest reach for some reason. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t. You DD tonight?” Sam asked as they climbed into Castiel’s SUV. Castiel nodded, he only really intended on having one beer. He hadn’t really been one for overindulging as of late. Not after last time.
Sam continued, “You know, that’s one thing I’ve always envied about you two.”
“What?” Castiel furrowed his brow in confusion, though he was used to Sam’s non-sequiturs since they’d known one another so long. Dean did the same thing sometimes.
“The access to clothes. You know how much time I’ve spent digging through Jess’s stuff to find mine? You guys can just grab whatever.”
“Even if Jess was a man, I’m fairly certain you couldn’t fit your over-grown body into her clothes.”
Sam rolled his eyes, “You’re sweet.”
“I do try.”
Castiel let the silence linger for a moment as he wove his way through the quiet streets. He looked over towards Sam every once and a while before finally broaching the subject, “So what’s got you so bothered tonight?”
Sam jumped a little and flashed a guilty smile. “That obvious, huh?”
“After figuring Dean out, you’re not really that much more difficult to read. You basically learned everything from him anyway.”
“Ah, gotcha.” Sam shrugged a little. “Wedding stuff, the baby, getting back to work. I could use the stress relief.”
“Not getting laid, huh?” Castiel asked matter-of-factly.
“Dude, you’re creepy as shit when you do that.”
“So I’ve been told.” Castiel’s next glance was all forced empathy. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not getting any either.”
Sam scrunched up his nose. “If we were just regular friends, that wouldn’t bother me. Brother-sex, Man…” Sam shook his head. Castiel chuckled, a low rumbling that Sam knew Dean loved.
“So you and Dean on the rocks again?” Sam asked cautiously.
Castiel shrugged. “More a lull than rocks. He’s a little irritated that he has to break confidence in regards to the students. Also, he’s been out of town for a week and I’ve just abandoned him to go drink with his brother. I’m not exactly going to be getting any gold stars any time soon.”
“That would be all kinds of wrong if he actually gave you gold stars.”
Castiel chuckled again, “Rest assured, he doesn’t.”
“You guys will work it out… I’ve noticed Gabriel’s been hounding you a lot more lately. What’s up there?”
Castiel felt his hands go cold for a second and his shoulders tense. The one problem with one of your best friends being your boyfriend’s brother was that there were just things you could not talk about. Castiel shot another glance over at Sam and hoped he was concealing his anxiety well enough. He hardly doubted Sam would take kindly to Castiel admitting that he sort of, kind of, possibly cheated on Dean while drinking but couldn’t remember it clearly enough to be sure.
Castiel’s answer was cautious and about as truthful as he was willing to make it, “Dean. Gabe’s concerned about Dean being away so much with this case. He just wants to make sure that I’m handling it all right.”
Sam nodded. “Understandable. I imagine it’s prett-” Sam cut himself off abruptly and Castiel shot quick repeated glances over at his partner, splitting his attention between Sam and the road.
“What is it?”
“Slow down,” Sam said, switching his tone to all-business in a moment.
Castiel eased off the gas and did as he was told. He tracked Sam’s gaze the best he could while watching the road and saw what had captured Sam’s attention. There were several black and silver Land Rovers parked along the side of a building that looked far too dark to have that many vehicles scattered around it. At least to their trained eyes.
“Crowley’s chariot of choice,” Castiel mused.
“Do you have your…” Sam asked hurriedly and made an obscure flapping motion with his hand. Castiel nodded at the glove compartment. Sam opened it and reached in, pulling out Castiel’s tablet and signing in with his Bureau ID. Castiel casually turned the corner and took his time as he passed the building.
“You get a number?” Sam asked.
“Twenty-five thirty.”
A few moments of nearly soundless tapping on the touch screen and Sam started back a little, “This building is owned by the Morningstar Corporation.”
“What?” Castiel snapped out. “So close to-”
“I know. I know. But it’s right here. Lilith’s dad owns this place. If not Lilith herself. I can’t get anything beyond Morningstar in the database. Why the hell would Crowley’s men be crawling all over one of Morningstar’s properties?”
“Sam, I seem to recall sounds of distress as we were passing that building.”
“Why, Castiel, I heard them too.”
“I believe it is our duty as Federal Agents to investigate, lest anyone is in need of our assistance.”
“Call it in,” Sam nodded firmly.
Castiel did just that and eased the SUV into an alley a few blocks away from the building. Crowley’s Aston Martin and Lilith’s Lexus were nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t mean either of them hadn’t changed vehicles for the occasion.
“Secret tryst?” Castiel suggested.
Sam made a face. “Doubt it. I don’t think even Lilith and Crowley are kinky enough to have this much of an audience… You just wanted to use the word ‘tryst’ didn’t you?”
Castiel gave a half-hearted little shrug and a grin before nodding for Sam to take point. “I like the word.”
“You’re so weird. No wonder you and my brother get along so well.” Sam moved into the lead and walked cautiously towards the building. They stayed out of the light as much as possible and cut into an alley, hurriedly jogging to the end where they came to a fence between the brick.
“Of course,” Castiel stated blandly.
“Up you go,” Sam holstered his gun and crouched a little. Castiel nodded and went towards Sam at a bit of a jog before placing his sneakered foot in Sam’s hand a reaching for the support bar at the top of the chain link. His toes were narrowed enough that he could have scaled it, but this was faster. Castiel swung around so he was at the far side of the fence and shimmed over until he was braced enough to hoist Sam after him. Sam scaled part-way and then used the assistance of Castiel’s momentum to finish the climb. They landed on the greasy asphalt below, Castiel soundless as he dropped and Sam only making the faintest of noise with his heavier boots.
Sam moved forward inch by inch, steps now silent in the night, and Castiel grinned a little. “Another trick learned at your brother’s knee?”
“Hey, there wasn’t much to do in Lawrence. B&E was a way to pass the time. The trick was not getting caught. We used to sneak into old abandoned houses at first, and then moved on to occupied buildings. Only Dean ever did the more serious stuff, though,” Sam shrugged.
Castiel shook his head and thought briefly on what Dean’s life would have been like if he wasn’t so damn lucky all the time. He’d only ever got caught once when he was fourteen, and those records were sealed. Castiel caught motion from somewhere ahead of Sam and shot out a hand. He laid his palm flat on Sam’s chest and pushed the other man up against the wall. Sam looked startled until he heard the footsteps as a man’s silhouette came into view. Castiel and Sam shared a look before grinning and flattening themselves against the brick with silent laughter.
“Jesus, these bastards are sly. What the fuck do you think they’re up to?” Sam whispered.
“That is precisely what we are here to discover, Dear Watson,” Castiel whispered back in a faux English accent.
“You and your Downey Jr. obsession, I swear…” Sam shook his head.
Castiel could only offer a shrug as he turned serious and took the lead this time. Sam moved with surprising skill for such a large man but Castiel still had the quicker eye and the sharper intuition. He studiously ignored the dull throb in his collarbone and adjusted the grip on his Glock as they moved around the corner.
“Door,” Castiel mouthed, gesturing with his head. Sam nodded, looked briefly left and right, before running at a crouch toward the metal slab. He dug around the inside of his jacket pocket while Castiel covered him. Sam made quick work of the lock and stood, pressing his body flat against one side of the frame while Castiel skittered across the lot and pressed flat against the other. Sam reached forward and grabbed the handle and counted silently from three on his fingers. Just as he closed his index down, he pulled open the door and Castiel darted inside. Sam followed a moment later and the two ducked against the wall.
“Catwalks,” Castiel whispered.
Sam shrugged in a ‘good a place as any’ gesture and looked around until he found the ladder. It was to the right of them and above their heads, leading up from the metal decks that spanned the building. “The stairs are going to be a bitch to stay quiet on.”
Castiel didn’t doubt that. The staircase was the perforated metal kind that had a penchant for rattling despite best efforts. Other than where they were at the entrance, the building was essentially wide open space and then a dark corridor that disappeared into the belly of the building at the far end. They walls looked to be hastily constructed and did not reach the girder ceiling of the warehouse.
“What is this place?” Sam wondered aloud, frowning.
Castiel could only shrug in response. This was an area mostly of store fronts and apartment blocks. Finding a warehouse this size in the middle of it was strange.
“Factory, maybe?” Castiel offered.
“God knows what Crowley and Lilith would be manufacturing together,” Sam remarked darkly.
“Let’s go. I’m sure all the action is beyond those partitions,” Castiel whispered.
“I’ll go up, you cover me,” Sam offered.
Castiel nodded. The older agent rose steadily up from his crouch and kept keen eyes peeled for any disturbance. He tried to ignore the way his heart hammered in his chest at how eerily reminiscent this place was to the last murky old building he’d crawled into and got blown up at.
Castiel winced and was jolted back to the present with the rumbling of the metal stairs behind him, which could not resist shuddering even with Sam’s gentle tread. Castiel tensed and waited but no one came to investigate and Cas skulked over at Sam’s gentle whistle. Though the rubber of his sneaker soles was practically inaudible with his soft steps, the too-long hem of Dean’s jeans swished along the smooth floor with each movement. Castiel cursed mentally but made it up the stairs without incident and shimmied up the ladder after Sam.
“All right, it branches off,” Sam remarked unnecessarily, as Castiel saw that clear enough for himself once they crested the landing.
Castiel nodded and narrowed his eyes as he puzzled through the next step. He very much wanted to investigate that corridor across the building, but there was a path directly ahead that could be just as promising. Last time Castiel split up with a partner and ventured on alone, it didn’t end well. He may be hesitant to do it again but Sam had more experience than Rachel had… Castiel caught his lip, a borrowed gesture from Dean, before releasing it and making his decision.
“You go straight. I want to see what’s down that hallway,” Castiel said.
“Okay, sounds good. Meet you back here in… Twenty?”
“Make it fifteen.” With a terse nod, Castiel, gun drawn, cut a quick path down the left side catwalk while Sam moved off ahead.
Castiel watched the younger Winchester’s back fade, before allowing himself to move any further down and tried to relax his tense shoulders as he went. There was no way that Crowley’s men or Lilith’s could possibly know they were here. This had not been at all planned, and though it was probably not an award winning decision on Castiel’s part, Sam had backed him fully in it and they were here now. Neither of them could pass up such an opportunity, and neither of them was really known for their restraint.
Sam used to be, of course, but Castiel tended to be a bad influence on Winchesters, and Winchesters were a worse influence on one another. Impulsive decision making seemed to run in the family and Castiel was no better. Never had been when it came to battle and investigation. Castiel had a tendency to luck out however, because impulsive he may be with a notable lack of consultation, but his pop fly decisions often worked out in the end. Dean’s too, and John’s. Sam fit right in with his father and brother, and Castiel knew Sam was more than capable of handling himself. That finally knocked out the last of Castiel’s anxiety as he moved with new purpose to his mysterious corridor.
He slowed his steps as he approached and strained to hear if it really had been voices that caught his ear or a mere trick of the building. Castiel crept forward on the catwalk and was rewarded with the sight of two suited men bending towards one another to discuss something. Castiel hushed his breath and eased his steps and hoped fervently that neither of the two men had a sudden inclination to look up. Soft as sin and comfortable as Dean’s grey Henley might be, the colour did not make for good camouflage against the shadows of the building’s ceiling.
Castiel made himself as small as possible and crept forward inch-by-inch in an awkward crouch, his gun held in both hands in front of him.
“He’s determined to get the business up and running again after that damned agent took it out two years ago. He knows the only way to do it is work with his ex-fuck, so he’s doing it. Doesn’t mean he’s happy about it.”
“I still don’t see how he’ll pull anything like this off. If they’re gone, they’re gone, ain’t they?”
“Always can get more, Wayne, you should know this by now. He just needs a pair of eyes to look the other way and sometimes you have to make deals to do it.”
“So when’s he want this up and running by?”
“Going down in the new year. Gonna spring the trap at Christmas. Think you can do it?”
“Anything for the right price, Azazel . Grossman and I can get started as soon as we have the funds.”
“Sounds like a-”
Castiel just about dived off the catwalk when the crack of gunfire echoed loud and long down the building. Azazel and Wayne shared a brief, startled glance before both men ran off down the corridor and into the main room. Castiel used every ounce of strength he possessed to wait a beat before following so the clatter of his footsteps wouldn’t be heard too clearly over the scuffle.
Castiel, with every last, lingering shred of faith he had, prayed that Sam was all right as he took off after the two men. He tore down the catwalk in the direction Sam had taken. The agent’s wholly unpractical runners slid unsettlingly on the metal below his feet. Castiel slowed when he saw Sam kneeling on the concrete with his arms behind his back, a gun under his chin and a faceless thug holding his neck back by his hair.
“Fuck,” Castiel whispered. He crept ever-so-slowly forward when he realized what must have given Sam away. A horrible creaking shriek split the relative quiet of the warehouse as the girder gave below Castiel’s weight. He scrambled to get on even ground again but his rubber soles scrabbled uselessly on the perforated metal. He slid down the catwalk as it tumbled, managing to swing around with gun drawn as he landed in a crouch on the dusty floor below.
The one good thing that came of the entire fiasco was that he provided enough of a distraction for Sam to break the hold the men had on him and scramble behind a few stacked crates for cover. Firing, Castiel took after him and the two leaned against the wood while Crowley’s men regrouped.
“Get them,” Azazel hissed.
“Fuck me,” Sam cursed, ducking as a bullet whizzed by over his head.
“Love to, really, a Winchester sandwich is what I always dreamed of, but not really the time for propositions,” Castiel gritted out, firing blindly over his head.
“Bastard,” Sam replied, though he had a grin on his face.
“Nothing like a firefight, right Samuel?”
“Brings back fond memories, does it?”
“All kinds.”
“God, this was basically the worst idea ever,” Sam shifted around to peer over the crates, calculating for a moment before firing off two clean shots and dropping one of their attackers. He ducked hastily back behind the crate as another volley of bullets whizzed overhead.
“We don’t have enough ammunition,” Castiel remarked unnecessarily.
“No kidding,” Sam returned.
“So how the fuck do we get out of this one?”
“Such a potty mouth, Cas, Man. I swear I’m fighting with Dean right now.”
“Yes, well your brother is a horrible influence on me. I count five cronies, and Azazel makes six.”
“I have about four rounds left,” Sam answered.
“Two.”
“So that’s fine, just don’t miss. All right?”
“Sure thing. I’ll take the two on the left, you take the four on the right.”
“If only one of us survives this and it’s you, Dean can have my collection of fuzzy socks.”
“All right. If it’s you, let Gabriel know that he gets all my tacky ties.”
“He’ll love it.”
“And no crying at my funeral.”
“Deal,” Sam nodded, they shared a glace for a moment before on the silent count of three, they rolled free from their cover.
Castiel came up into one of the thug’s personal space and smashed his elbow in the man’s nose. He man let out a yowl and backed away. Castiel brought his arm up and fired clean into the centre of the man’s forehead before rounding on the other and firing at the man’s chest. Both went down and Castiel rushed over to help Sam. His gun was useless now, but Castiel’s right hook wasn’t. The blue-eyed agent ducked a punch before rounding and flattening the man to the floor. Sam turned in time to fire two more consecutive shots and all that remained was one bullet and Azazel cowering on the floor.
“Well that went far better than expected,” Castiel remarked, thoroughly surprised as he and Sam approached Azazel.
“You cops are all the same,” Azazel sneered.
“We aren’t cops,” Sam said.
“We’re Federal Agents.”
“And you are under arrest-” before Sam could finish, Azazel scrambled over and picked up a discarded gun, rounding on Castiel.
Sam raised his gun to fire, and just when he was going to squeeze the trigger, Castiel turned wide eyes to see Sam slumping to his knees, staring dumbly down at the pool of red slowly seeping into his shirt on his chest.
Castiel reacted before he could think, snatched up Sam’s gun from his loosened grip, and turned to fire at the attacker. A young black man blinked and fell, a long silver blade falling free from his slack hand; when Castiel turned back to Azazel, the man was already running down the hallway. Sirens sounded in the distance and Castiel fought the tears that threated to spill free as he scrambled over to his would-be brother-in-law and placed pressure on the wound in the younger man’s chest.
End Chapter
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