Kiss you When it's Dangerous - Part 3
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When Castiel wakes again it’s 9:00 AM, and although less than five hours sleep isn’t ideal, it’s enough to get him out of bed and starting his day. He keeps his shower short and stops for coffee and a muffin on the way to the office and makes it in by 10:15. He can’t help but notice he’s still getting the sympathetic head tilts and sad eyes from most of the women, knowing nods and grim smiles from most of the men.
Uriel’s betrayal has made him infamous.
It gives him a free pass on being late. No one says a word about it.
Using the desktop link to local law enforcement he finds the report on Dwayne Parks who is, as of yet, unidentified in the system. He wishes for a moment that he’d only taken the driver’s license and not the entire wallet so that Parks wouldn’t be listed as a John Doe. He may have died a vampire, but he was human once and Castiel is sure someone is missing him. He can’t worry about that now, however. Curious as to what the local police do know, he skims the file. They’re currently classifying it as a mugging or unknown attack. Without any witnesses (and here Castiel spares a thought for the young woman), they don’t have much to go on. The ballistics report is pending for the bullets recovered from the body. He knew they were likely to recover the bullets and has pretty much written off his personal side arm as unusable now that those bullets are logged in the system.
He pulls up the coroner report and notes that yes, he did sever the spinal cord, and makes a mental note to tell Dean. The coroner noted ‘several dental deformities’ and indicated that dental records might be the way to go to identify the body.
Not likely, thinks Castiel grimly.
Satisfied that the police don’t have anything to lead back to him, he closes the file. It’s too early to call Gabriel, so he starts scanning the current police files looking for any attacks that include strange bite marks to the body.
Three hours later, he thinks he might have something. He’s got three missing persons reports with no leads, one dead prostitute and four animal services reports all coming from the same area of town. The animal services reports are for dead animals found. Local vets had worried for a while they had some kind of epidemic making its way through the pet population when four separate groups of dead cats and dogs were found. They later identified the animals as dead by exsanguination.
The working girl had been found by one of her peers, dead in a room they sometimes ‘shared’ for ‘entertaining’. She too had been found with ragged knife wounds in her neck wounds that the coroner stated were post-mortem.
Which would be a smart thing to do to a victim if you were a vampire trying to stay below the radar, thinks Castiel.
The missing persons reports all detail young victims (one male, two female) out clubbing or socializing with friends, who had gone missing on their ways home, never to be seen again. Family and friends interviews all indicated that none were the runaway type. One was pre-med, one worked full time at a local coffee shop and the last had almost finished a bachelors’ degree in fine arts at the university. Neither of them screamed unreliable nor ‘dangerous lifestyle’.
He prints out a map of the area and marks off the body dumps of the animals, the dead hooker and the last known locations of the three missing people. He’s got a pretty big area marked out in the warehouse district. The district is working its way up the social ranks; parts of it have been converted into upper class lofts, bakeries and specialty shops but the trend though hasn’t worked its way through the entire area yet. There’s a definite line of demarcation where upscale meets downtown and Castiel bets he’s seeing the intersection of the two.
Even if it’s not a lead on his vampire, it’s still worth checking out. He may end up solving a human crime.
Deciding it’s definitely time that Gabriel should be awake and at work, he decides to head over to the club. He’s got a pretty good photo of Parks from the DMV and figures he can show it around and see if anyone recognizes it or has any information.
There are no bouncers at this time of the afternoon but the doors are open when he tries them. The club looks completely different, dark and empty during the daytime where it had been full of light and people during the night before. A stockboy in dirty jeans and a t-shirt who looks barely old enough to be stocking the liquor hesitates in front of Castiel.
“Uh, can I help you?”
“I am Castiel. Gabriel’s brother. Is he here?”
The boy jerks his thumb toward the back where Castiel can see a long hallway with doors on either side. He can hear Gabriel before he sees him, complaining loudly.
“Payroll is boring.”
“Yes, well, if you hired a bookkeeper based on skills with a computer instead of… elsewhere… you’d manage to keep one for longer than five minutes and they would do it for you,” Balthazar replies easily.
“I want someone nice to look at!” protests Gabriel, just as Castiel opens the door to his office and enters. “What’s wrong with that?” Gabriel looks up from behind his desk at Cas and smiles. “Cas! Twice in twenty four hours! To what do I owe the honor? Wait - am I under arrest?”
Balthazar turns slightly from the chair he’s in to face Cas. “Tell me he’s finally under arrest. We have a bet - he gets arrested, I get the club.”
Castiel frowns. “No. Why would you think you were under arrest?” he asks, eyes narrowing.
Gabriel waves a hand. “Minor misunderstanding. Very minor. Hardly worth mentioning. You’re not dying are you?”
Castiel’s head tilts slightly at the non-sequitur. “No, I am not dying.”
Gabriel shrugs. “Just checking.”
“I am here in an official capacity,” Castiel begins, reaching into his pocket for the photo of Parks.
“You said I wasn’t under arrest!”
Castiel rolls his eyes and pulls out the picture of Parks, putting it on Gabriel’s desk. “Do you recognize this man?”
Gabriel looks sideways at him. “Depends,” he hedges.
“No, it does not depend, do you recognize him or not?” Castiel replies tiredly, used to Gabriel’s dodging over the years.
“I might,” Gabriel shrugs. “Why?”
“He’s a suspect.”
“Of what?”
Gabriel always was nosy. “Of a crime,” Castiel answers easily. Two can play the coy game.
Gabriel eyes him carefully. “In the club?”
“No.”
Gabriel visible relaxes. “Oh. Then yeah, I recognize him. He comes in here sometimes, with his buddies. Kind of rowdy. Chats up some girls. The usual. The servers don’t really like him.”
“Why not?”
Gabriel shrugs again. “Say he and his friends were weird. But they always pay their tab and it’s not a crime to be weird.”
“You would know,” Castiel says quickly.
“Yeah, well, it runs in the family,” Gabriel fires back. “What’s he done?”
Castiel pockets the photo back in his jacket pocket. “I would like to return tonight and if this man’s companions return, I would like you to point them out.”
“You want me to engrave an invitation so you can RSVP?” Gabriel asks dryly.
Castiel is already on his way out the door. “Not necessary,” he calls back over his shoulder.
Back in his office, Castiel takes his phone out and starts texting.
Is it likely that vampires travel in groups and if so, of how many?
He hits send and is surprised when the phone rings one minute later, Dean’s number displayed on the screen.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Where are you?”
Dean’s voice is sharp, demanding and in the background, Castiel can hear the familiar sounds of driving - tires on pavement, the change in pressure as other cars are passed, the slight rumble of the engine.
“In my office, why?”
“What do you mean ‘is it likely vampires travel in groups?’”
“It’s a simple question. Are they similar to pack animals, or are they more solitary creatures?”
“Why do you want to know?”
Castiel looks up quickly and seeing his office door closed, goes on. “I believe that our creature had friends of a similar nature.”
“Jesus, Cas,” Dean starts and then pauses for a moment. “You can’t just… You’re not… this is dangerous!”
“I’m aware.”
He can hear someone in the background, Sam he thinks, saying something that sounds like ‘Federal Agent’ before Dean’s voice comes clear over the line again. “Shut your pie hole.”
“Pardon?” Castiel asks, confused.
“No, not you, just… Look, this is a dangerous gig, and you can’t just…”
“Dean, I am only gathering information.”
“Yeah well so far your ‘gathering information’ has led to you killing a vampire and taking a midnight trip to the morgue and now you want to know how many vamps are in a nest.”
“Is that what it’s called? A nest?”
“Focus!”
“I am focused. As I said, I think I may have a lead on some associates of our creature and I would like to know how many may be involved.”
He hears Dean make a strangled sound. “Sammy and I are headed back to town, just hang tight until we get there.”
“I’m not planning anything dangerous, Dean. I’m only going to be doing some reconnaissance at my brother’s club.” There’s a knock at his door and he cuts Dean’s next strangled sound off. “I must go.” He hangs up just as a fellow agent, Rachel, pokes her head in his office.
“Don’t know if you got the email, but there’s a meeting in the boardroom. Workload assignment. In five.”
“Thank you, I will be there.”
She gives a quick nod and smile and she’s off. He can see his phone already lighting up with text messages.
Do not even THINK about doing anything on your own.
He quickly types back.
Do not be alarmed. I am quite good at my job.
He pockets his phone to head off to the meeting before he sees if there’s a reply.
***
When Cas suddenly hangs up, Dean curses loudly and looks at his phone twice to make sure it’s working and that Cas really did hang up instead of them being disconnected.
“Son of a bitch!” he repeats and then hikes one of his knees up to hold the wheel while he starts texting.
“Hey, hey, hey!” exclaims Sam, leaning over and putting one of his hands on the wheel. “Eyes on the road, man!”
“Does he think it’s some kind of game? Whack a mole with vamps? This is dangerous shit!” Dean mutters as he types on his phone.
“Jesus, no texting while driving!” Sam shouts and yanks the phone out of Sam’s hands just as Dean hits send.
“Hey! That’s my phone!” Dean yelps.
Sam turns it off and shoves it in his back pocket with one hand, all the while keeping his eyes on the road and his other hand on the wheel. “And you can have it back when you aren’t driving.”
Dean mutters at him but finally puts both hands back on the wheel. “There, happy now? Ten and two, just like driver’s ed.” He shakes his hands a little bit in a jazzy type motion, ignoring Sam’s scowl.
“What’s Castiel planning on doing?” asks Sam, having only heard one side of the conversation.
Dean presses down on the gas pedal harder. “Guy thinks he’s Buffy now or something. Asking how many vamps are in a nest.”
Sam’s eyes widen. “He found a nest? Really?”
“What? No,” Dean replies, trying to keep his eyes on the road. “He’s trying to find out if there is a nest. He’s heading for trouble. He says he’s doing recon tonight at a club. Can you believe that shit? Recon.”
At Sam’s silence, Dean glances over. “What?” he asks when he sees Sam’s face.
“Doesn’t sound dangerous,” Sam shrugs.
“Doesn’t sound… What? Sammy! Vampires.”
“Dean, he’s going to a club. Where there are people. Lots of people.”
“And apparently, vampires!” Dean proclaims, slapping the wheel for emphasis.
“Of which he already managed to kill one! Federal agent!”
“Jesus, not you too. Just because he’s some kind of fed doesn’t mean he can handle this.”
Sam doesn’t say anything, only eyes Dean pointedly.
“What?” Dean says loudly.
“I just think you need to examine why you’re so upset.”
“I told you, it’s not safe!”
“Dean,” Sam says, with more patience than Dean probably deserves. “Have you noticed that you’re a little… protective of Castiel?”
“Of course I am. Dude is in a dangerous situation.”
Sam nods. “Sure, sure, but I’m just saying, you’re… you know, maybe overreacting.”
Dean glances over and glares. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just saying, you know, over the last little bit, you and Castiel… the phone calls, the texting…”
“We’re working a case here. We’re trying to figure out what Uriel was up to!”
“Um, yeah,” drawls Sam. “How many of those phone calls and texts actually have to do with Enochian translations?”
Dean’s mouth opens and closes a few times. “It’s hard to do that shit over the phone.”
“Exactly,” Sam says.
“‘Exactly’ what?” Dean shoots back. “What?”
“I just think that, you know, you’ve maybe developed - ” he stops suddenly as Dean shoots him another big-brother-death-glare, “- or maybe you’re starting to develop -” the death glare gets worse, “-you know, sometimes these connections evolve-”
One of Dean’s hands starts to clench into a fist.
“And you guys had an intense first meeting -” The fist opens and closes a few times.
“Spit it out, Samantha,” Dean growls.
“And-I-think-you-developed-feelings-for-him,” Sam rushes out.
“I’m worried about him.”
“Yes,” Sam nods. “Because you’ve… - startedhavingfeelingsforhim,” he spits quickly.
“What are you? A twelve year old girl?”
Sam huffs out an exasperated breath. “I’m just saying that there have been a lot of late night phone calls. Texting.”
“And I told you, we’re working on that Enochian.”
“We’re working on the Enochian with Bobby too and I didn’t hear you chatting him up at 2 am the other night.”
“You listening in on my life now?”
“Kinda hard not to when we’re together all the time. Dean, look, you’re allowed to have feelings-”
“Thank you very much, Oprah. Did you get a free set of breasts with your new vagina?”
“And,” Sam continues, raising his voice over top of Dean’s. “Maybe you and Castiel share some kind of, I don’t know, profound bond-”
“Profound bond? I’m bonded now?” Dean cuts in, eyes askew at Sam.
“I just…” Sam says, dauntless in the face of Dean’s expression. “You don’t have to talk to me about it-”
“Really? Because it kinda seems like you wanna make me.”
“But if you want to,” Sam says, raising his voice again. “I’m here for you.”
Dean rolls his eyes. “I wish you’d be somewhere else for me,” he mutters.
***
The bouncers at Gabriel’s club recognize him this time and wave him through the line, much to the chagrin of several of waiting patrons. Once again, the club is dark and loud - full of young club-goers wearing the absolute minimum of what they can get away with. He makes his way through the throng as he did before - careful not to knock over anyone who is too drunk to stand straight, but never stopping. He spots Gabriel tending bar, pouring shots with a smirk and tossing one back himself before sliding the other three toward a group of co-eds. As if feeling the weight of Cas’ stare, Gabriel looks up and jerks his head in greeting. As Cas comes up to the bar, Gabriel pours another shot and pushes it toward him. Cas takes one look at it and slides it off to the side.
“I’m working,” Castiel says, trying to shout over the loud throbbing music.
Gabriel pushes the shot back in front of him. “So am I,” he shouts back, taking another shot of tequila. Cas frowns at him and Gabriel rolls his eyes, taking the shot back from Cas and shooting it back himself. He jerks his head to the left a bit and Cas lets his eyes trail off to the side, seeing a group of three young men sitting at a table, joined by three girls. The guys are good looking, well built, probably young professionals if not still in college.
“Those are your buddy’s friends,” Gabriel yells over the music, Cas leaning forward to hear him. “Not sure where your buddy is.”
“I told you, he’s a suspect,” Cas replies, not adding that he’s dead.
“Whatever. Just promise me you won’t make any arrests in the club. Bad for business.”
Gabriel pours him a diet soda, dropping a straw in it and sliding it across the bar before moving onto paying customers. Cas settles in a bit to watch the three men. He feels his phone vibrating against his chest and pulls it out of his coat pocket.
We just hit town. Where u at?
He texts back with nimble fingers. At a club. Have spotted suspects.
The reply is almost immediately. What club? Do not DO NOT move.
The bank.
What bank?
My brother’s club. It’s called the Bank.
Dean’s reply is a little longer in coming and Cas imagines Dean plugging the name into his phone to find directions.
Got it. DONT MOVE.
Castiel stares at the screen for longer than necessary, not sure he understands how he feels about Dean’s emphatic and repeated demands. On the one hand, Cas thinks he finds them insulting. He is a federal agent and is trained to tail and apprehend suspects. On the other hand, he feels something warm curl low in his stomach at the… protective nature of Dean’s messages.
He can’t even remember the last time someone, other than Gabriel, was so interested in his well-being.
He’s so wrapped up in his thoughts he doesn’t notice when Gabriel slips in front of him again and plucks the phone from his fingers. He makes a move to snatch it back and Gabriel steps backward, using the bar in between them as a barrier as he shamelessly reads the texts on Cas’ phone.
“Cassy,” Gabriel teases, raising his eyebrows. “You got a girlfriend?” Gabriel reads over the words again. “Or maybe… boyfriend?”
Cas tries to make a move for his phone again, coming up and slightly over the bar, but Gabriel just moves another step back. He smiles gleefully at Cas and Cas knows he let Gabriel see too much of his expression.
His brother has always been very good at reading him.
Gabriel tries to scroll backward through the messages and Castiel is glad he had the foresight to keep deleting texts from Dean as they came in.
“He’s a… colleague.”
“Bull shit,” Gabriel shouts over the music. “One: I know your face and you’ve got more than a work expression on and two,” Gabriel holds up two of the fingers from his other hand. “You don’t have his name on your phone.”
“So?”
“So all your precious federali friends are listed by last name, first name and badge number. But this guy…” Gabriel continues flipping through Cas’ phone, relaxing his posture and coming back closer to the bar. “Not even one name. Interesting.”
Cas takes the opportunity of Gabriel’s attention being on the phone to reach over quickly and snatch it out of his hands.
“We’re working a case together,” Castiel protests.
“Is that what the young kids are calling it these days?” Gabriel smirks. “What’s his name?”
Castiel pauses for a moment, not about to tell Gabriel and then decides that fighting Gabe will only make it harder. “Dean,” he says succinctly.
Gabriel makes a comically impressed face, mouthing the name over again. “And it looks like Dean is coming here?”
“Yes. He’s likely bringing his brother as well.”
“Kinky.”
It’s Castiel’s turn to roll his eyes. He’s about to tell Gabriel to mind his own business when the trio that he’s been watching start to get up, gathering their things together. And it looks like the girls are going with them.
“I must go.”
Gabriel’s teasing face disappears and his hand snakes out and catches Castiel’s wrist. “Hey, seriously, should you wait for him? Is he your backup?”
“I will be fine, Gabriel.”
“I don’t want to be on the receiving end of another late night phone call telling me you’re in the hospital, bro,” Gabe replies, face drawn.
Castiel pulls his hand free gently but firmly. “I will be fine,” he repeats.
Gabriel points at him. “You call me tomorrow,” he orders.
Castiel nods distractedly, watching the departing group weave through the crowd and starting after them.
***
Not that Dean would ever admit it to anyone ever but those little maps that came on most phones these days were genius.
It wasn’t like Dean didn’t know how to read a regular map, but with these things you just plugged in your starting and ending location and presto! Route mapped out. Follow the blue dot. He didn’t even need an address for the club, just the name.
Dean makes sure to keep his goofy grin off his face as Sam watches him map out the route that will take them to The Bank. And there it is - a little bit across town and over to the east.
Perfect.
“So,” drawls Sam, “what’s the plan?”
“The plan is we make Cas tell us what he knows and then convince him to go the hell home and forget he ever learned there are things that go bump in the night,” Dean scowls, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Yeah, ‘cause that’s been working out so fantastic so far,” Sam says.
Dean’s eyes fly over to him for a moment and then flick back to the road. “So help me God, Sammy, if you start another touchy-feely craptastic conversation…”
“Don’t hurt yourself protesting too much,” Sam interrupts and Dean’s scowl deepens. “I’m just saying, Castiel doesn’t really seem like he’s gonna drop it, Dean.”
“Oh, he’ll drop it,” Dean says assuredly.
“Ri-i-i-ght,” Sam says slowly.
“I don’t even know why I’m explaining this to you!” Dean says hotly. “You know hunting is dangerous.”
“Yeah, for your average civilian, sure. But Dean. Castiel is a federal agent. And frankly, it’d be kinda nice to have one of those on our side for a change.”
“Don’t you get any funny ideas under that mop top hair that this is all gonna work out,” Dean warns. “We’re gonna find out of there’s a nest of vamps and if there is, we’ll shut it down. End of story.”
“Well, yeah, until we find out what Uriel is up to.”
Dean grimaces. Fuck. Right. Uriel. “Okay, we get rid of the vamps, find out what Uriel’s up to and then, bam, end of story.”
“And you’re going to stop Castiel from investigating the supernatural how?” asks Sam.
Dean flicks his eyes over again, taking in Sam’s slight smirk. He tosses his phone in Sam’s lap.
“Just tell me when we get close to the club.”
***
So far, it’s pretty much like every other federal stakeout Castiel has been on.
Mind numbingly boring.
And a little cold.
He wishes he’d planned better for this. Perhaps brought some coffee. He couldn’t afford to be distracted so he’s banned his phone to his pocket, on silent mode. Not even the vibrate feature is active.
It’s embarrassing how many stakeouts are nearly compromised by phones that won’t stay quiet.
The group of young men and the women joining them for the evening leave Gabriel’s club and stumble-walk to the warehouse district a couple of blocks over. They seem, for all intents and purposes, like your average Saturday night crowd. The men are loud and slightly bawdy; the women laughing along to jokes that are in very poor taste. They aren’t openly drinking liquor, although Castiel thinks one of the women might be carrying something in her purse. Two of the three women and one of the men are smoking up a storm now that they are out of the club, the cherry-red tips of their lit cigarettes easily visible in the night.
Castiel hangs back as the group entered a more posh looking warehouse. Some of the buildings along this street are slowly being brought up to date - getting turned into trendy lofts and high end shops. It appears that the building the group just went into wasn’t fixed up yet, but is slated for upgrades.
After listening at the door for a moment and not hearing anything, Castiel lets himself in. He can always claim to be lost if they see him.
He finds himself in a dark and empty foyer, the sounds of the party-goers sounding slightly above him. He spies an old staircase at the far end of the hallway.
Looks like he’s going up.
***
Parking the Impala is always a challenge. It’s huge and modern parking spaces just aren’t made for it.
So, trying to find a spot to park the Impala late at night close to a club is akin to shoving bamboo sticks under his fingernails. Dean swears he can feel his blood pressure rising as he drives in circles looking for a parking lot or open space. He finally just rips around back and parks the Impala in the loading zone of the club.
“What?” he says to Sam’s look. “No one’s delivering this time of night anyway.”
Sam’s expression clearly says ‘Good luck getting out of the impound lot on that excuse’ but they both know if it come to that, Sam will boost Dean over the impound fence, or distract the guards or feed the guard dogs, or whatever it takes to get the Impala out.
It’s not like they haven’t done it before. It’s just that it’s always a real fucking hassle.
They bypass the huge line up front and make their way to the front doors, earning jeers and shouts from the crowd. They get stopped by a bruiser of a bouncer at the front door.
“There’s a line,” the bouncer says without preamble, jerking his chin toward the crowd.
“Our friend’s inside,” Dean says, trying to ignore the fact that he has to look up to the guy. The bouncer must be 6’6’’ the way Dean’s craning his neck.
“Lotta people got friends inside,” the bouncer says. “They wait in line.”
Dean hauls out his phone and texts Cas.
Get your ass outside. We’re here.
There’s no response.
Dean scowls. “Look. His brother owns the club.”
The bouncer just stares at him.
“Seriously. He was just on the phone with me.”
The bouncer is silent.
“Castiel?” Dean pushes. “Ring any bells?”
The bouncer eyeballs him, eyes going down and up Dean’s body and then Sam’s before he clicks his headset. “Gabe, got some dudes out here that say they know Cas.”
Dean sighs in frustration and maybe a little bit of relief. The bouncer listens for a second and then turns back to Dean.
“You Dean?”
“Yes!” he nearly shouts. The bouncer nods once and lets them pass. If Dean wasn’t so anxious about seeing Castiel again, he might shoot a smug look at the people hissing at him from the line up, but at this point, he can’t be bothered.
As soon as he’s inside, he starts scanning the crowd for the spiky hair that tops Castiel’s head, frowning when he doesn’t spot it. What he does see is a smaller, lithe man with elfin features making a bee-line for him and Sam.
“Dean?” he questions and Dean nods. “You must be the brother. Got a name?”
“Sam.”
“I’m Gabe, Cas’ brother,” the smaller man yells over the noise.
“Where’s Cas?” Dean shouts over top of the music.
Gabe frowns. “I thought he was meeting you.”
“Ya, here!” Dean exclaims, gesturing emphatically.
Gabe opens his mouth to start shouting again and then seems to shake himself a bit. “Office,” he says and jerks his head for them to follow.
All his nerves vibrating, Dean follows after Gabe. They thread their way through the crowd, with Gabe touching people lightly on the shoulder to get them to move out of his way. They must know him because everyone has a smile for him and easily makes way for the trio to pass. Half a minute later, they’re in a small office, the din of the club lessening as Gabe closes the door to shut out the noise of the club.
“Where’s Cas?” Dean repeats again.
“He left. So I was right. You don’t exactly look like law enforcement,” Gabe counters, looking up and down Dean.
“We’re specialists,” Dean replies back.
Gabe looks unconvinced. “Right. Specialists.”
“What do you mean, he left?” asks Sam, trying to diffuse the immediate animosity that sprung up between Gabe and Dean.
“He was watching some guys and they left so he left. I thought you guys were working this case together.”
Dean grinds his teeth. “There is no case. Your brother is not on the ‘case,’” he spits out. “Sam and I can handle it.”
“Handle what?” Gabe replies, eyes narrowing.
“Look, do you know where he went?” Sam breaks in.
“You think he’s in trouble?” Gabe asks, going around to his desk and sitting down, flicking on the computer.
“Uh, well, I wouldn’t say trouble…” Sam hedges.
“Why, you know where he is?” interrupts Dean.
“I can find him,” Gabe says intently, typing into his keyboard.
All ears now, Dean comes around one side of Gabe, while Sam comes around the other.
“How?” Dean asks, leaning over Gabe’s shoulder and watching his screen.
“I have a tracking chip in his phone. If he’s got it on him, I know where he is.”
“You lo-jacked your brother?” Dean says incredulously.
“I got a late night phone call telling me my baby bro was in the hospital recovering from being a participant in some freaky ritual against his will, you bet your ass I lo-jacked him.”
Not a bad idea, thinks Dean and looks over at Sam to see Sam appraising him with the same look.
“Got him,” says Gabe, snapping both of their attentions back to the screen. “He’s a couple blocks away, warehouse district.”
Dean and Sam both lean in a bit closer, each of them memorizing the map laid out on screen as quick as possible, just as John taught them.
“Got it,” Dean says quickly. “Sammy?”
“Yeah, I got it too.”
“Should I be calling the real cops?” Gabriel asks them, no amusement in his tone.
“We got it.” Dean’s voice is tight and flat.
“You tell him to call me.”
Dean’s already at the door, making an exit but Sam nods once. “We will.”
***
Castiel is no stranger to a stakeout going bad.
It just doesn’t usually happen so fast. And generally, there aren’t so many teeth involved.
It’s pretty tame for a while. The trio of young men lead the ladies upstairs to where they have some couches, tables and a stereo system set up. The women are a little giggly, mostly drunk but having a good time. They roll their eyes when the men say they have plans for the warehouse. How they are going to be spending big money and making even more, some kind of import/export business.
Honestly, the men barely know what they were talking about. The young men are talking circles around one another.
The women aren’t dumb and Castiel can see them exchange looks that say they know exactly what to think about the garbage the men are trying to feed them.
On one of the couches, one of the men tries to get closer to one of the women, sliding closer to her, putting an arm around her. She seems to be shyer than her friends and her body language is screaming that she’s uncomfortable with the whole thing. Casanova tries to steal a kiss, she pushes him away nicely but firmly with the heel of her hand pressed against his chest.
He doesn’t take the hint and Castiel sees the whole thing going pear-shaped.
Her face steels and she pushes him away again, her eyes widening when he doesn’t budge. Castiel is already pushing his way through the door, making a huge ruckus when the young man, no, vampire opens his mouth wide and leans forward to bite the woman’s neck.
Castiel’s gun is out, he’s firing, but the vampire is moving, struggling to keep feeding as his victim struggles and Castiel’s shots, while hitting the vampire, aren’t doing any real damage. The women are screaming and Castiel can see one of them almost being bitten out of the corner of his eye and he’s just realizing he’s lost sight of the third vampire when he hears someone yell ‘duck!’ and then he’s pile-driven to the ground by a solid weight.
There’s a swish sound and a spray of blood, red, warm and wet.
He thrashes slightly underneath a foreign weight on the ground and then flips over onto his back.
And comes face to face with Dean Winchester.
“Cas,” Dean says, slightly out of breath and with a spattering of blood across part of his cheek. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” He grins.
His eyes never leaving Dean’s, Castiel’s hand twitches between them pulls out his gun.
Dean’s grin gets wider. “Too bad,” he says ruefully.
“Dean!”
At Sam’s shout, Dean snaps to attention and catches a wicked looking knife his brother has thrown for him, seemingly snagging it out of the air. He’s up on his feet before Castiel can really process it and then a head gets severed from a body and that’s one less vamp they have to worry about. Castiel pushes himself to his feet and takes stock.
There’s a dead vampire close to where he was standing before Dean tackled him and Castiel can only assume that Sam dispatched it when Dean pushed him to the ground. The one that Dean decapitated is a few feet away and the third one, the one Castiel shot, is also lying in two pieces, presumably also by Sam Winchester’s hands.
Two of the women are huddled together in a corner, clutching one another closely. The third, the one that the vampire was trying to bite is off to one side, staring at the Winchesters and Castiel and then over to her friends. She bolts suddenly for her friends and they pull her close.
Castiel immediately holsters his gun and makes his way over to them. They flinch as he approach, pulling themselves in tighter.
He holds his hands out in a calming gesture. “I’m with the…”
“Whoa!” Dean shouts suddenly. “No introductions!”
Castiel’s eyes flick to Dean briefly and then back to the women. “Are you injured?” he asks instead.
Two of them shake their heads while the other manages to speak. “No,” says the brunette. “What were they?” she asks suddenly, her eyes flat and hard.
Castiel’s eyes flicker over to Dean again and Dean shakes his head once. “They are dead now.”
She holds her friends closer, looks from Cas to Dean, to Sam. “Who are you?” she asks, her voice shaking slightly.
Sam steps over and hunkers down in front of them, the women leaning slightly back as he does.
“We’re here to help. We take care of this sort of thing.”
“This sort of thing,” the brunette repeats, staring at Sam. “Jesus Christ, that’s fucked up.”
Sam’s lips curl in a depreciating smile. “Yeah. Are you sure you’re okay? All of you? No bites?”
The talkative one looks over her friends and then back at Sam. “No.”
“Can we give you ladies a ride?” Sam asks, gesturing behind himself to Dean and Cas. The brunette’s eyes narrow quickly. “To a hospital or maybe a public place and drop you off,” he amends.
“No offense, mister, but we’d be pretty fucking dumb if we did that twice in one night after what just happened here,” she says sharply and then seems to realize she’s potentially trash talking a dangerous guy.
Sam seems to get it and just laughs self-deprecatingly. “Yeah, I guess so. Uh, how about I call you guys a cab,” he says, pulling out his phone.
The three women stagger to their feet, holding off Sam and Castiel’s offers of help with sharp glances and slight flinches. One of the girl’s shoes has snapped off at the heel and she’s holding it like some kind of weapon at the ready. By some kind of unspoken arrangement, one of them always manages to keep Dean, Cas and Sam in her eyesight until the trio of them make their way to the door where they back out slowly, keeping each other close as Sam takes them downstairs for a cab.
Which leaves Castiel and Dean… and three dead vampires.
“Sooooooo,” Dean drawls. “Come here often?”
Castiel looks over at him. He’d thought that perhaps he’d imagined how striking looking Dean was. Perhaps it was the blood loss or the incense burning. No one’s eyes could be that shade of green, no one’s features could work so well together.
Then he’d seen a few of Dean’s mug shots and had realized, no, he really hadn’t imagined it.
Even so, seeing Dean in person is still… surprising. His mug shots didn’t do him justice.
It’s not a phrase Castiel thought he would ever think about someone.
Dean’s looking at him waiting for a response, one eyebrow raised slightly, cocky grin. Dean’s one of those people that when he looks at you, he really looks at you. As though there’s nowhere else he’d rather look.
“Cas,” Dean says lowly, questioningly. It’s the same voice Castiel has heard many times on the phone, but somehow it, too, is more in person than he recalled. “You okay, man?”
“I suppose this is a regular night’s work for you,” Castiel finally manages. His voice is lower and more gravelly than usual.
Dean shrugs, checks over the knife he’s still holding and finding some blood on it, walks over to one of the couches and wipes it off. It’s so… functional, casual, that it’s almost amusing.
“I’ve had better, I’ve had much worse,” Dean says easily, finding the knife’s discarded sheath on the floor and sliding the blade home. Dean’s eyes shift from playful to serious. “Care to tell me what the fuck you thought you were doing going after a nest of vamps? By yourself?”
“It was meant only to be reconnaissance,” Castiel says with a shrug of one shoulder.
Dean squints a bit like he didn’t quite hear him right. “Reconnaissance? When I busted in here, you were about to become fang food!”
“How did you find me?” Castiel counters, ignoring the obvious.
“Your brother.”
“My brother?”
“Your brother has you lo-jacked and you know what? Kinda seems like a fantastic idea since you like to run off after vampires with no backup!”
“My brother has me lo-jacked?” Castiel repeats.
“So not the fucking point, Cas!” Dean exclaims. “I told you, this shit is dangerous.”
“I appear to have emerged unscathed,” says Castiel.
“Only because Sammy and I showed when we did.”
“I’ve been in worse situations, Dean.”
“Yeah, I know, I busted you out of one not that long ago, remember?”
Cas presses his lips together firmly. Of course he remembers. He’s got the scars on his chest on the off chance that he ever forgets. The thought that Dean appears to think that Castiel needs rescuing is quickly losing the bloom of fondness, the petals of it curling with burden and indignity.
“Of course,” Castiel replies stiffly. “Then it appears I am twice in your debt.”
Dean sighs. “Look, man, I didn’t mean… It’s just… You’re new to all this shit.”
Castiel has no wish to continue discussing this with Dean, certainly not where they are currently located. “It would be prudent to move this discussion elsewhere. We are standing in the middle of a crime scene.”
“Dude, my whole life is a crime scene,” Dean says tiredly but starts making his way to the door. Castiel glances around, going through the events of the night in his mind again and reviewing the scene looking for anything that might have a set of his or the Winchesters’ fingerprints.
The Winchesters are well known to the system, but it would be disastrous if Castiel’s prints were found.
Sam and the women are nowhere to be found when they finally get outside.
“Where’s your brother?” Castiel asks.
Dean shrugs. “He probably took them a couple of blocks away to catch a cab. Wouldn’t be good to get one right at the crime scene.”
Castiel nods. “Of course.”
“How did you get here anyway?” Dean asks.
“My car is at Gabriel’s club. I followed them here on foot.”
Dean’s anger flares back to life again. “So you had no backup and no car when you went in there?”
Castiel’s eyebrows come together in another frown. “What good would my car have done me if I had been attacked by vampires?”
Dean opens his mouth to argue, realizes he has no rational, logical answer and shuts it again with a click. “Let’s just get you back to your car. You should call your brother too.”
Castiel frowns at the suggestion but pulls out his phone and calls Gabriel anyway.
“So you’re okay,” Gabriel asks for the third time.
“Yes,” Castiel answers tiredly. “I am quite able to take care of myself despite what you and… others seem to think.” He glances sideways at Dean as he makes the statement.
Dean appears to ignore him.
“Speaking of your new special friend,” starts Gabriel. “Yowza! What a looker! And his brother! Honestly, what kind of deal with the devil does it take to get genetics like that?”
“Good night, Gabriel,” intones Cas lowly and then hangs up on the next lewd thing his brother was surely about to utter.
They’re halfway back to the club when Dean’s phone buzzes he reads a new text quickly.
“Son of a-” Dean mutters and then sighs.
“Problem?”
“Yes. No. Yes,” Dean says in succession. “Sammy took the car.” He pauses and rubs his chin and lips with his hand, looking slightly awkward and young in the street light. “Uh, can I get a ride?” he asks, looking up sheepishly from under his eyelashes.
“Of course,” Castiel says easily. It’s not as though he would strand the man who just came to his rescue. “I’ve actually been meaning to speak to you about some of Uriel’s symbols we’ve been investigating.”
“See there you go with this ‘we’ business again, Cas,” Dean starts.
Castiel feels a surge of anger well up. He’s not a victim. No matter how he may sometimes feel like it in the middle of the night when he remembers the way Uriel carved into his chest or when he can still hear the ominous chanting in his ear. He is not helpless. He is not in need of being protected or rescued. So, he cuts Dean off. “If you don’t wish to speak of it with me, than we won’t, but make no mistake, I will not stop investigating Uriel and his actions. Yes, you happened upon what Uriel was doing and you rescued me and for that I am grateful, but if you think you can persuade me to stop by repeatedly informing me it is dangerous to pursue my investigation then we have nothing further to say to one another.”
Dean stops still and stares at him and Castiel feels a surge of triumph at the surprised look on his face. He increases his speed, walking faster back toward the club and his car.
“Whoa, whoa,” Dean calls from behind him and Castiel can hear his fast footfalls as he catches up, sees him out of the corner of his eye as he falls into step beside Castiel once more. “You’re pretty tough for a nerdy little dude.”
Castiel stops once more and glares at him. Dean holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender.
“All right, all right. Truce. Sorry.”
Castiel searches his face for a moment, looking for any insincerity and, finding none, turns away again and resumes their walk back toward his car.
“So, uh, you were saying, about the symbols?” Dean asks and Castiel can hear how careful he’s being with his tone.
Castiel risks a quick glance sideways at him and nods once quickly. “Yes. I believe I may have broken part of the code, or at least, be making headway towards its decipherment.” They’ve finally reached the back lot of the club, the bass of the music a pulsing beat in the background. Castiel takes the last few steps to the driver side of his car and looks over the roof at Dean.
“I suppose I could scan and email them to your phone,” he pauses, not sure what he’s going to say next until the words are out of his mouth. “Or you could come back to my apartment with me and we could review the drawings.”
Dean smirks. “Cas, are you inviting me back to your place to see your etchings?”
Castiel frowns, unsure how to interpret Dean’s tone. “Yes,” he says simply, deciding to go for the straightforward, obvious answer.
Dean’s smile seems wry and amused, but not cruel, Castiel thinks. Dean’s eyes flick away for a moment and then back at Cas.
“All right. Let’s go see your drawings.”
***
On to Part 4
Back to Part 2
When Castiel wakes again it’s 9:00 AM, and although less than five hours sleep isn’t ideal, it’s enough to get him out of bed and starting his day. He keeps his shower short and stops for coffee and a muffin on the way to the office and makes it in by 10:15. He can’t help but notice he’s still getting the sympathetic head tilts and sad eyes from most of the women, knowing nods and grim smiles from most of the men.
Uriel’s betrayal has made him infamous.
It gives him a free pass on being late. No one says a word about it.
Using the desktop link to local law enforcement he finds the report on Dwayne Parks who is, as of yet, unidentified in the system. He wishes for a moment that he’d only taken the driver’s license and not the entire wallet so that Parks wouldn’t be listed as a John Doe. He may have died a vampire, but he was human once and Castiel is sure someone is missing him. He can’t worry about that now, however. Curious as to what the local police do know, he skims the file. They’re currently classifying it as a mugging or unknown attack. Without any witnesses (and here Castiel spares a thought for the young woman), they don’t have much to go on. The ballistics report is pending for the bullets recovered from the body. He knew they were likely to recover the bullets and has pretty much written off his personal side arm as unusable now that those bullets are logged in the system.
He pulls up the coroner report and notes that yes, he did sever the spinal cord, and makes a mental note to tell Dean. The coroner noted ‘several dental deformities’ and indicated that dental records might be the way to go to identify the body.
Not likely, thinks Castiel grimly.
Satisfied that the police don’t have anything to lead back to him, he closes the file. It’s too early to call Gabriel, so he starts scanning the current police files looking for any attacks that include strange bite marks to the body.
Three hours later, he thinks he might have something. He’s got three missing persons reports with no leads, one dead prostitute and four animal services reports all coming from the same area of town. The animal services reports are for dead animals found. Local vets had worried for a while they had some kind of epidemic making its way through the pet population when four separate groups of dead cats and dogs were found. They later identified the animals as dead by exsanguination.
The working girl had been found by one of her peers, dead in a room they sometimes ‘shared’ for ‘entertaining’. She too had been found with ragged knife wounds in her neck wounds that the coroner stated were post-mortem.
Which would be a smart thing to do to a victim if you were a vampire trying to stay below the radar, thinks Castiel.
The missing persons reports all detail young victims (one male, two female) out clubbing or socializing with friends, who had gone missing on their ways home, never to be seen again. Family and friends interviews all indicated that none were the runaway type. One was pre-med, one worked full time at a local coffee shop and the last had almost finished a bachelors’ degree in fine arts at the university. Neither of them screamed unreliable nor ‘dangerous lifestyle’.
He prints out a map of the area and marks off the body dumps of the animals, the dead hooker and the last known locations of the three missing people. He’s got a pretty big area marked out in the warehouse district. The district is working its way up the social ranks; parts of it have been converted into upper class lofts, bakeries and specialty shops but the trend though hasn’t worked its way through the entire area yet. There’s a definite line of demarcation where upscale meets downtown and Castiel bets he’s seeing the intersection of the two.
Even if it’s not a lead on his vampire, it’s still worth checking out. He may end up solving a human crime.
Deciding it’s definitely time that Gabriel should be awake and at work, he decides to head over to the club. He’s got a pretty good photo of Parks from the DMV and figures he can show it around and see if anyone recognizes it or has any information.
There are no bouncers at this time of the afternoon but the doors are open when he tries them. The club looks completely different, dark and empty during the daytime where it had been full of light and people during the night before. A stockboy in dirty jeans and a t-shirt who looks barely old enough to be stocking the liquor hesitates in front of Castiel.
“Uh, can I help you?”
“I am Castiel. Gabriel’s brother. Is he here?”
The boy jerks his thumb toward the back where Castiel can see a long hallway with doors on either side. He can hear Gabriel before he sees him, complaining loudly.
“Payroll is boring.”
“Yes, well, if you hired a bookkeeper based on skills with a computer instead of… elsewhere… you’d manage to keep one for longer than five minutes and they would do it for you,” Balthazar replies easily.
“I want someone nice to look at!” protests Gabriel, just as Castiel opens the door to his office and enters. “What’s wrong with that?” Gabriel looks up from behind his desk at Cas and smiles. “Cas! Twice in twenty four hours! To what do I owe the honor? Wait - am I under arrest?”
Balthazar turns slightly from the chair he’s in to face Cas. “Tell me he’s finally under arrest. We have a bet - he gets arrested, I get the club.”
Castiel frowns. “No. Why would you think you were under arrest?” he asks, eyes narrowing.
Gabriel waves a hand. “Minor misunderstanding. Very minor. Hardly worth mentioning. You’re not dying are you?”
Castiel’s head tilts slightly at the non-sequitur. “No, I am not dying.”
Gabriel shrugs. “Just checking.”
“I am here in an official capacity,” Castiel begins, reaching into his pocket for the photo of Parks.
“You said I wasn’t under arrest!”
Castiel rolls his eyes and pulls out the picture of Parks, putting it on Gabriel’s desk. “Do you recognize this man?”
Gabriel looks sideways at him. “Depends,” he hedges.
“No, it does not depend, do you recognize him or not?” Castiel replies tiredly, used to Gabriel’s dodging over the years.
“I might,” Gabriel shrugs. “Why?”
“He’s a suspect.”
“Of what?”
Gabriel always was nosy. “Of a crime,” Castiel answers easily. Two can play the coy game.
Gabriel eyes him carefully. “In the club?”
“No.”
Gabriel visible relaxes. “Oh. Then yeah, I recognize him. He comes in here sometimes, with his buddies. Kind of rowdy. Chats up some girls. The usual. The servers don’t really like him.”
“Why not?”
Gabriel shrugs again. “Say he and his friends were weird. But they always pay their tab and it’s not a crime to be weird.”
“You would know,” Castiel says quickly.
“Yeah, well, it runs in the family,” Gabriel fires back. “What’s he done?”
Castiel pockets the photo back in his jacket pocket. “I would like to return tonight and if this man’s companions return, I would like you to point them out.”
“You want me to engrave an invitation so you can RSVP?” Gabriel asks dryly.
Castiel is already on his way out the door. “Not necessary,” he calls back over his shoulder.
Back in his office, Castiel takes his phone out and starts texting.
Is it likely that vampires travel in groups and if so, of how many?
He hits send and is surprised when the phone rings one minute later, Dean’s number displayed on the screen.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Where are you?”
Dean’s voice is sharp, demanding and in the background, Castiel can hear the familiar sounds of driving - tires on pavement, the change in pressure as other cars are passed, the slight rumble of the engine.
“In my office, why?”
“What do you mean ‘is it likely vampires travel in groups?’”
“It’s a simple question. Are they similar to pack animals, or are they more solitary creatures?”
“Why do you want to know?”
Castiel looks up quickly and seeing his office door closed, goes on. “I believe that our creature had friends of a similar nature.”
“Jesus, Cas,” Dean starts and then pauses for a moment. “You can’t just… You’re not… this is dangerous!”
“I’m aware.”
He can hear someone in the background, Sam he thinks, saying something that sounds like ‘Federal Agent’ before Dean’s voice comes clear over the line again. “Shut your pie hole.”
“Pardon?” Castiel asks, confused.
“No, not you, just… Look, this is a dangerous gig, and you can’t just…”
“Dean, I am only gathering information.”
“Yeah well so far your ‘gathering information’ has led to you killing a vampire and taking a midnight trip to the morgue and now you want to know how many vamps are in a nest.”
“Is that what it’s called? A nest?”
“Focus!”
“I am focused. As I said, I think I may have a lead on some associates of our creature and I would like to know how many may be involved.”
He hears Dean make a strangled sound. “Sammy and I are headed back to town, just hang tight until we get there.”
“I’m not planning anything dangerous, Dean. I’m only going to be doing some reconnaissance at my brother’s club.” There’s a knock at his door and he cuts Dean’s next strangled sound off. “I must go.” He hangs up just as a fellow agent, Rachel, pokes her head in his office.
“Don’t know if you got the email, but there’s a meeting in the boardroom. Workload assignment. In five.”
“Thank you, I will be there.”
She gives a quick nod and smile and she’s off. He can see his phone already lighting up with text messages.
Do not even THINK about doing anything on your own.
He quickly types back.
Do not be alarmed. I am quite good at my job.
He pockets his phone to head off to the meeting before he sees if there’s a reply.
***
When Cas suddenly hangs up, Dean curses loudly and looks at his phone twice to make sure it’s working and that Cas really did hang up instead of them being disconnected.
“Son of a bitch!” he repeats and then hikes one of his knees up to hold the wheel while he starts texting.
“Hey, hey, hey!” exclaims Sam, leaning over and putting one of his hands on the wheel. “Eyes on the road, man!”
“Does he think it’s some kind of game? Whack a mole with vamps? This is dangerous shit!” Dean mutters as he types on his phone.
“Jesus, no texting while driving!” Sam shouts and yanks the phone out of Sam’s hands just as Dean hits send.
“Hey! That’s my phone!” Dean yelps.
Sam turns it off and shoves it in his back pocket with one hand, all the while keeping his eyes on the road and his other hand on the wheel. “And you can have it back when you aren’t driving.”
Dean mutters at him but finally puts both hands back on the wheel. “There, happy now? Ten and two, just like driver’s ed.” He shakes his hands a little bit in a jazzy type motion, ignoring Sam’s scowl.
“What’s Castiel planning on doing?” asks Sam, having only heard one side of the conversation.
Dean presses down on the gas pedal harder. “Guy thinks he’s Buffy now or something. Asking how many vamps are in a nest.”
Sam’s eyes widen. “He found a nest? Really?”
“What? No,” Dean replies, trying to keep his eyes on the road. “He’s trying to find out if there is a nest. He’s heading for trouble. He says he’s doing recon tonight at a club. Can you believe that shit? Recon.”
At Sam’s silence, Dean glances over. “What?” he asks when he sees Sam’s face.
“Doesn’t sound dangerous,” Sam shrugs.
“Doesn’t sound… What? Sammy! Vampires.”
“Dean, he’s going to a club. Where there are people. Lots of people.”
“And apparently, vampires!” Dean proclaims, slapping the wheel for emphasis.
“Of which he already managed to kill one! Federal agent!”
“Jesus, not you too. Just because he’s some kind of fed doesn’t mean he can handle this.”
Sam doesn’t say anything, only eyes Dean pointedly.
“What?” Dean says loudly.
“I just think you need to examine why you’re so upset.”
“I told you, it’s not safe!”
“Dean,” Sam says, with more patience than Dean probably deserves. “Have you noticed that you’re a little… protective of Castiel?”
“Of course I am. Dude is in a dangerous situation.”
Sam nods. “Sure, sure, but I’m just saying, you’re… you know, maybe overreacting.”
Dean glances over and glares. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just saying, you know, over the last little bit, you and Castiel… the phone calls, the texting…”
“We’re working a case here. We’re trying to figure out what Uriel was up to!”
“Um, yeah,” drawls Sam. “How many of those phone calls and texts actually have to do with Enochian translations?”
Dean’s mouth opens and closes a few times. “It’s hard to do that shit over the phone.”
“Exactly,” Sam says.
“‘Exactly’ what?” Dean shoots back. “What?”
“I just think that, you know, you’ve maybe developed - ” he stops suddenly as Dean shoots him another big-brother-death-glare, “- or maybe you’re starting to develop -” the death glare gets worse, “-you know, sometimes these connections evolve-”
One of Dean’s hands starts to clench into a fist.
“And you guys had an intense first meeting -” The fist opens and closes a few times.
“Spit it out, Samantha,” Dean growls.
“And-I-think-you-developed-feelings-for-him,” Sam rushes out.
“I’m worried about him.”
“Yes,” Sam nods. “Because you’ve… - startedhavingfeelingsforhim,” he spits quickly.
“What are you? A twelve year old girl?”
Sam huffs out an exasperated breath. “I’m just saying that there have been a lot of late night phone calls. Texting.”
“And I told you, we’re working on that Enochian.”
“We’re working on the Enochian with Bobby too and I didn’t hear you chatting him up at 2 am the other night.”
“You listening in on my life now?”
“Kinda hard not to when we’re together all the time. Dean, look, you’re allowed to have feelings-”
“Thank you very much, Oprah. Did you get a free set of breasts with your new vagina?”
“And,” Sam continues, raising his voice over top of Dean’s. “Maybe you and Castiel share some kind of, I don’t know, profound bond-”
“Profound bond? I’m bonded now?” Dean cuts in, eyes askew at Sam.
“I just…” Sam says, dauntless in the face of Dean’s expression. “You don’t have to talk to me about it-”
“Really? Because it kinda seems like you wanna make me.”
“But if you want to,” Sam says, raising his voice again. “I’m here for you.”
Dean rolls his eyes. “I wish you’d be somewhere else for me,” he mutters.
***
The bouncers at Gabriel’s club recognize him this time and wave him through the line, much to the chagrin of several of waiting patrons. Once again, the club is dark and loud - full of young club-goers wearing the absolute minimum of what they can get away with. He makes his way through the throng as he did before - careful not to knock over anyone who is too drunk to stand straight, but never stopping. He spots Gabriel tending bar, pouring shots with a smirk and tossing one back himself before sliding the other three toward a group of co-eds. As if feeling the weight of Cas’ stare, Gabriel looks up and jerks his head in greeting. As Cas comes up to the bar, Gabriel pours another shot and pushes it toward him. Cas takes one look at it and slides it off to the side.
“I’m working,” Castiel says, trying to shout over the loud throbbing music.
Gabriel pushes the shot back in front of him. “So am I,” he shouts back, taking another shot of tequila. Cas frowns at him and Gabriel rolls his eyes, taking the shot back from Cas and shooting it back himself. He jerks his head to the left a bit and Cas lets his eyes trail off to the side, seeing a group of three young men sitting at a table, joined by three girls. The guys are good looking, well built, probably young professionals if not still in college.
“Those are your buddy’s friends,” Gabriel yells over the music, Cas leaning forward to hear him. “Not sure where your buddy is.”
“I told you, he’s a suspect,” Cas replies, not adding that he’s dead.
“Whatever. Just promise me you won’t make any arrests in the club. Bad for business.”
Gabriel pours him a diet soda, dropping a straw in it and sliding it across the bar before moving onto paying customers. Cas settles in a bit to watch the three men. He feels his phone vibrating against his chest and pulls it out of his coat pocket.
We just hit town. Where u at?
He texts back with nimble fingers. At a club. Have spotted suspects.
The reply is almost immediately. What club? Do not DO NOT move.
The bank.
What bank?
My brother’s club. It’s called the Bank.
Dean’s reply is a little longer in coming and Cas imagines Dean plugging the name into his phone to find directions.
Got it. DONT MOVE.
Castiel stares at the screen for longer than necessary, not sure he understands how he feels about Dean’s emphatic and repeated demands. On the one hand, Cas thinks he finds them insulting. He is a federal agent and is trained to tail and apprehend suspects. On the other hand, he feels something warm curl low in his stomach at the… protective nature of Dean’s messages.
He can’t even remember the last time someone, other than Gabriel, was so interested in his well-being.
He’s so wrapped up in his thoughts he doesn’t notice when Gabriel slips in front of him again and plucks the phone from his fingers. He makes a move to snatch it back and Gabriel steps backward, using the bar in between them as a barrier as he shamelessly reads the texts on Cas’ phone.
“Cassy,” Gabriel teases, raising his eyebrows. “You got a girlfriend?” Gabriel reads over the words again. “Or maybe… boyfriend?”
Cas tries to make a move for his phone again, coming up and slightly over the bar, but Gabriel just moves another step back. He smiles gleefully at Cas and Cas knows he let Gabriel see too much of his expression.
His brother has always been very good at reading him.
Gabriel tries to scroll backward through the messages and Castiel is glad he had the foresight to keep deleting texts from Dean as they came in.
“He’s a… colleague.”
“Bull shit,” Gabriel shouts over the music. “One: I know your face and you’ve got more than a work expression on and two,” Gabriel holds up two of the fingers from his other hand. “You don’t have his name on your phone.”
“So?”
“So all your precious federali friends are listed by last name, first name and badge number. But this guy…” Gabriel continues flipping through Cas’ phone, relaxing his posture and coming back closer to the bar. “Not even one name. Interesting.”
Cas takes the opportunity of Gabriel’s attention being on the phone to reach over quickly and snatch it out of his hands.
“We’re working a case together,” Castiel protests.
“Is that what the young kids are calling it these days?” Gabriel smirks. “What’s his name?”
Castiel pauses for a moment, not about to tell Gabriel and then decides that fighting Gabe will only make it harder. “Dean,” he says succinctly.
Gabriel makes a comically impressed face, mouthing the name over again. “And it looks like Dean is coming here?”
“Yes. He’s likely bringing his brother as well.”
“Kinky.”
It’s Castiel’s turn to roll his eyes. He’s about to tell Gabriel to mind his own business when the trio that he’s been watching start to get up, gathering their things together. And it looks like the girls are going with them.
“I must go.”
Gabriel’s teasing face disappears and his hand snakes out and catches Castiel’s wrist. “Hey, seriously, should you wait for him? Is he your backup?”
“I will be fine, Gabriel.”
“I don’t want to be on the receiving end of another late night phone call telling me you’re in the hospital, bro,” Gabe replies, face drawn.
Castiel pulls his hand free gently but firmly. “I will be fine,” he repeats.
Gabriel points at him. “You call me tomorrow,” he orders.
Castiel nods distractedly, watching the departing group weave through the crowd and starting after them.
***
Not that Dean would ever admit it to anyone ever but those little maps that came on most phones these days were genius.
It wasn’t like Dean didn’t know how to read a regular map, but with these things you just plugged in your starting and ending location and presto! Route mapped out. Follow the blue dot. He didn’t even need an address for the club, just the name.
Dean makes sure to keep his goofy grin off his face as Sam watches him map out the route that will take them to The Bank. And there it is - a little bit across town and over to the east.
Perfect.
“So,” drawls Sam, “what’s the plan?”
“The plan is we make Cas tell us what he knows and then convince him to go the hell home and forget he ever learned there are things that go bump in the night,” Dean scowls, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Yeah, ‘cause that’s been working out so fantastic so far,” Sam says.
Dean’s eyes fly over to him for a moment and then flick back to the road. “So help me God, Sammy, if you start another touchy-feely craptastic conversation…”
“Don’t hurt yourself protesting too much,” Sam interrupts and Dean’s scowl deepens. “I’m just saying, Castiel doesn’t really seem like he’s gonna drop it, Dean.”
“Oh, he’ll drop it,” Dean says assuredly.
“Ri-i-i-ght,” Sam says slowly.
“I don’t even know why I’m explaining this to you!” Dean says hotly. “You know hunting is dangerous.”
“Yeah, for your average civilian, sure. But Dean. Castiel is a federal agent. And frankly, it’d be kinda nice to have one of those on our side for a change.”
“Don’t you get any funny ideas under that mop top hair that this is all gonna work out,” Dean warns. “We’re gonna find out of there’s a nest of vamps and if there is, we’ll shut it down. End of story.”
“Well, yeah, until we find out what Uriel is up to.”
Dean grimaces. Fuck. Right. Uriel. “Okay, we get rid of the vamps, find out what Uriel’s up to and then, bam, end of story.”
“And you’re going to stop Castiel from investigating the supernatural how?” asks Sam.
Dean flicks his eyes over again, taking in Sam’s slight smirk. He tosses his phone in Sam’s lap.
“Just tell me when we get close to the club.”
***
So far, it’s pretty much like every other federal stakeout Castiel has been on.
Mind numbingly boring.
And a little cold.
He wishes he’d planned better for this. Perhaps brought some coffee. He couldn’t afford to be distracted so he’s banned his phone to his pocket, on silent mode. Not even the vibrate feature is active.
It’s embarrassing how many stakeouts are nearly compromised by phones that won’t stay quiet.
The group of young men and the women joining them for the evening leave Gabriel’s club and stumble-walk to the warehouse district a couple of blocks over. They seem, for all intents and purposes, like your average Saturday night crowd. The men are loud and slightly bawdy; the women laughing along to jokes that are in very poor taste. They aren’t openly drinking liquor, although Castiel thinks one of the women might be carrying something in her purse. Two of the three women and one of the men are smoking up a storm now that they are out of the club, the cherry-red tips of their lit cigarettes easily visible in the night.
Castiel hangs back as the group entered a more posh looking warehouse. Some of the buildings along this street are slowly being brought up to date - getting turned into trendy lofts and high end shops. It appears that the building the group just went into wasn’t fixed up yet, but is slated for upgrades.
After listening at the door for a moment and not hearing anything, Castiel lets himself in. He can always claim to be lost if they see him.
He finds himself in a dark and empty foyer, the sounds of the party-goers sounding slightly above him. He spies an old staircase at the far end of the hallway.
Looks like he’s going up.
***
Parking the Impala is always a challenge. It’s huge and modern parking spaces just aren’t made for it.
So, trying to find a spot to park the Impala late at night close to a club is akin to shoving bamboo sticks under his fingernails. Dean swears he can feel his blood pressure rising as he drives in circles looking for a parking lot or open space. He finally just rips around back and parks the Impala in the loading zone of the club.
“What?” he says to Sam’s look. “No one’s delivering this time of night anyway.”
Sam’s expression clearly says ‘Good luck getting out of the impound lot on that excuse’ but they both know if it come to that, Sam will boost Dean over the impound fence, or distract the guards or feed the guard dogs, or whatever it takes to get the Impala out.
It’s not like they haven’t done it before. It’s just that it’s always a real fucking hassle.
They bypass the huge line up front and make their way to the front doors, earning jeers and shouts from the crowd. They get stopped by a bruiser of a bouncer at the front door.
“There’s a line,” the bouncer says without preamble, jerking his chin toward the crowd.
“Our friend’s inside,” Dean says, trying to ignore the fact that he has to look up to the guy. The bouncer must be 6’6’’ the way Dean’s craning his neck.
“Lotta people got friends inside,” the bouncer says. “They wait in line.”
Dean hauls out his phone and texts Cas.
Get your ass outside. We’re here.
There’s no response.
Dean scowls. “Look. His brother owns the club.”
The bouncer just stares at him.
“Seriously. He was just on the phone with me.”
The bouncer is silent.
“Castiel?” Dean pushes. “Ring any bells?”
The bouncer eyeballs him, eyes going down and up Dean’s body and then Sam’s before he clicks his headset. “Gabe, got some dudes out here that say they know Cas.”
Dean sighs in frustration and maybe a little bit of relief. The bouncer listens for a second and then turns back to Dean.
“You Dean?”
“Yes!” he nearly shouts. The bouncer nods once and lets them pass. If Dean wasn’t so anxious about seeing Castiel again, he might shoot a smug look at the people hissing at him from the line up, but at this point, he can’t be bothered.
As soon as he’s inside, he starts scanning the crowd for the spiky hair that tops Castiel’s head, frowning when he doesn’t spot it. What he does see is a smaller, lithe man with elfin features making a bee-line for him and Sam.
“Dean?” he questions and Dean nods. “You must be the brother. Got a name?”
“Sam.”
“I’m Gabe, Cas’ brother,” the smaller man yells over the noise.
“Where’s Cas?” Dean shouts over top of the music.
Gabe frowns. “I thought he was meeting you.”
“Ya, here!” Dean exclaims, gesturing emphatically.
Gabe opens his mouth to start shouting again and then seems to shake himself a bit. “Office,” he says and jerks his head for them to follow.
All his nerves vibrating, Dean follows after Gabe. They thread their way through the crowd, with Gabe touching people lightly on the shoulder to get them to move out of his way. They must know him because everyone has a smile for him and easily makes way for the trio to pass. Half a minute later, they’re in a small office, the din of the club lessening as Gabe closes the door to shut out the noise of the club.
“Where’s Cas?” Dean repeats again.
“He left. So I was right. You don’t exactly look like law enforcement,” Gabe counters, looking up and down Dean.
“We’re specialists,” Dean replies back.
Gabe looks unconvinced. “Right. Specialists.”
“What do you mean, he left?” asks Sam, trying to diffuse the immediate animosity that sprung up between Gabe and Dean.
“He was watching some guys and they left so he left. I thought you guys were working this case together.”
Dean grinds his teeth. “There is no case. Your brother is not on the ‘case,’” he spits out. “Sam and I can handle it.”
“Handle what?” Gabe replies, eyes narrowing.
“Look, do you know where he went?” Sam breaks in.
“You think he’s in trouble?” Gabe asks, going around to his desk and sitting down, flicking on the computer.
“Uh, well, I wouldn’t say trouble…” Sam hedges.
“Why, you know where he is?” interrupts Dean.
“I can find him,” Gabe says intently, typing into his keyboard.
All ears now, Dean comes around one side of Gabe, while Sam comes around the other.
“How?” Dean asks, leaning over Gabe’s shoulder and watching his screen.
“I have a tracking chip in his phone. If he’s got it on him, I know where he is.”
“You lo-jacked your brother?” Dean says incredulously.
“I got a late night phone call telling me my baby bro was in the hospital recovering from being a participant in some freaky ritual against his will, you bet your ass I lo-jacked him.”
Not a bad idea, thinks Dean and looks over at Sam to see Sam appraising him with the same look.
“Got him,” says Gabe, snapping both of their attentions back to the screen. “He’s a couple blocks away, warehouse district.”
Dean and Sam both lean in a bit closer, each of them memorizing the map laid out on screen as quick as possible, just as John taught them.
“Got it,” Dean says quickly. “Sammy?”
“Yeah, I got it too.”
“Should I be calling the real cops?” Gabriel asks them, no amusement in his tone.
“We got it.” Dean’s voice is tight and flat.
“You tell him to call me.”
Dean’s already at the door, making an exit but Sam nods once. “We will.”
***
Castiel is no stranger to a stakeout going bad.
It just doesn’t usually happen so fast. And generally, there aren’t so many teeth involved.
It’s pretty tame for a while. The trio of young men lead the ladies upstairs to where they have some couches, tables and a stereo system set up. The women are a little giggly, mostly drunk but having a good time. They roll their eyes when the men say they have plans for the warehouse. How they are going to be spending big money and making even more, some kind of import/export business.
Honestly, the men barely know what they were talking about. The young men are talking circles around one another.
The women aren’t dumb and Castiel can see them exchange looks that say they know exactly what to think about the garbage the men are trying to feed them.
On one of the couches, one of the men tries to get closer to one of the women, sliding closer to her, putting an arm around her. She seems to be shyer than her friends and her body language is screaming that she’s uncomfortable with the whole thing. Casanova tries to steal a kiss, she pushes him away nicely but firmly with the heel of her hand pressed against his chest.
He doesn’t take the hint and Castiel sees the whole thing going pear-shaped.
Her face steels and she pushes him away again, her eyes widening when he doesn’t budge. Castiel is already pushing his way through the door, making a huge ruckus when the young man, no, vampire opens his mouth wide and leans forward to bite the woman’s neck.
Castiel’s gun is out, he’s firing, but the vampire is moving, struggling to keep feeding as his victim struggles and Castiel’s shots, while hitting the vampire, aren’t doing any real damage. The women are screaming and Castiel can see one of them almost being bitten out of the corner of his eye and he’s just realizing he’s lost sight of the third vampire when he hears someone yell ‘duck!’ and then he’s pile-driven to the ground by a solid weight.
There’s a swish sound and a spray of blood, red, warm and wet.
He thrashes slightly underneath a foreign weight on the ground and then flips over onto his back.
And comes face to face with Dean Winchester.
“Cas,” Dean says, slightly out of breath and with a spattering of blood across part of his cheek. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” He grins.
His eyes never leaving Dean’s, Castiel’s hand twitches between them pulls out his gun.
Dean’s grin gets wider. “Too bad,” he says ruefully.
“Dean!”
At Sam’s shout, Dean snaps to attention and catches a wicked looking knife his brother has thrown for him, seemingly snagging it out of the air. He’s up on his feet before Castiel can really process it and then a head gets severed from a body and that’s one less vamp they have to worry about. Castiel pushes himself to his feet and takes stock.
There’s a dead vampire close to where he was standing before Dean tackled him and Castiel can only assume that Sam dispatched it when Dean pushed him to the ground. The one that Dean decapitated is a few feet away and the third one, the one Castiel shot, is also lying in two pieces, presumably also by Sam Winchester’s hands.
Two of the women are huddled together in a corner, clutching one another closely. The third, the one that the vampire was trying to bite is off to one side, staring at the Winchesters and Castiel and then over to her friends. She bolts suddenly for her friends and they pull her close.
Castiel immediately holsters his gun and makes his way over to them. They flinch as he approach, pulling themselves in tighter.
He holds his hands out in a calming gesture. “I’m with the…”
“Whoa!” Dean shouts suddenly. “No introductions!”
Castiel’s eyes flick to Dean briefly and then back to the women. “Are you injured?” he asks instead.
Two of them shake their heads while the other manages to speak. “No,” says the brunette. “What were they?” she asks suddenly, her eyes flat and hard.
Castiel’s eyes flicker over to Dean again and Dean shakes his head once. “They are dead now.”
She holds her friends closer, looks from Cas to Dean, to Sam. “Who are you?” she asks, her voice shaking slightly.
Sam steps over and hunkers down in front of them, the women leaning slightly back as he does.
“We’re here to help. We take care of this sort of thing.”
“This sort of thing,” the brunette repeats, staring at Sam. “Jesus Christ, that’s fucked up.”
Sam’s lips curl in a depreciating smile. “Yeah. Are you sure you’re okay? All of you? No bites?”
The talkative one looks over her friends and then back at Sam. “No.”
“Can we give you ladies a ride?” Sam asks, gesturing behind himself to Dean and Cas. The brunette’s eyes narrow quickly. “To a hospital or maybe a public place and drop you off,” he amends.
“No offense, mister, but we’d be pretty fucking dumb if we did that twice in one night after what just happened here,” she says sharply and then seems to realize she’s potentially trash talking a dangerous guy.
Sam seems to get it and just laughs self-deprecatingly. “Yeah, I guess so. Uh, how about I call you guys a cab,” he says, pulling out his phone.
The three women stagger to their feet, holding off Sam and Castiel’s offers of help with sharp glances and slight flinches. One of the girl’s shoes has snapped off at the heel and she’s holding it like some kind of weapon at the ready. By some kind of unspoken arrangement, one of them always manages to keep Dean, Cas and Sam in her eyesight until the trio of them make their way to the door where they back out slowly, keeping each other close as Sam takes them downstairs for a cab.
Which leaves Castiel and Dean… and three dead vampires.
“Sooooooo,” Dean drawls. “Come here often?”
Castiel looks over at him. He’d thought that perhaps he’d imagined how striking looking Dean was. Perhaps it was the blood loss or the incense burning. No one’s eyes could be that shade of green, no one’s features could work so well together.
Then he’d seen a few of Dean’s mug shots and had realized, no, he really hadn’t imagined it.
Even so, seeing Dean in person is still… surprising. His mug shots didn’t do him justice.
It’s not a phrase Castiel thought he would ever think about someone.
Dean’s looking at him waiting for a response, one eyebrow raised slightly, cocky grin. Dean’s one of those people that when he looks at you, he really looks at you. As though there’s nowhere else he’d rather look.
“Cas,” Dean says lowly, questioningly. It’s the same voice Castiel has heard many times on the phone, but somehow it, too, is more in person than he recalled. “You okay, man?”
“I suppose this is a regular night’s work for you,” Castiel finally manages. His voice is lower and more gravelly than usual.
Dean shrugs, checks over the knife he’s still holding and finding some blood on it, walks over to one of the couches and wipes it off. It’s so… functional, casual, that it’s almost amusing.
“I’ve had better, I’ve had much worse,” Dean says easily, finding the knife’s discarded sheath on the floor and sliding the blade home. Dean’s eyes shift from playful to serious. “Care to tell me what the fuck you thought you were doing going after a nest of vamps? By yourself?”
“It was meant only to be reconnaissance,” Castiel says with a shrug of one shoulder.
Dean squints a bit like he didn’t quite hear him right. “Reconnaissance? When I busted in here, you were about to become fang food!”
“How did you find me?” Castiel counters, ignoring the obvious.
“Your brother.”
“My brother?”
“Your brother has you lo-jacked and you know what? Kinda seems like a fantastic idea since you like to run off after vampires with no backup!”
“My brother has me lo-jacked?” Castiel repeats.
“So not the fucking point, Cas!” Dean exclaims. “I told you, this shit is dangerous.”
“I appear to have emerged unscathed,” says Castiel.
“Only because Sammy and I showed when we did.”
“I’ve been in worse situations, Dean.”
“Yeah, I know, I busted you out of one not that long ago, remember?”
Cas presses his lips together firmly. Of course he remembers. He’s got the scars on his chest on the off chance that he ever forgets. The thought that Dean appears to think that Castiel needs rescuing is quickly losing the bloom of fondness, the petals of it curling with burden and indignity.
“Of course,” Castiel replies stiffly. “Then it appears I am twice in your debt.”
Dean sighs. “Look, man, I didn’t mean… It’s just… You’re new to all this shit.”
Castiel has no wish to continue discussing this with Dean, certainly not where they are currently located. “It would be prudent to move this discussion elsewhere. We are standing in the middle of a crime scene.”
“Dude, my whole life is a crime scene,” Dean says tiredly but starts making his way to the door. Castiel glances around, going through the events of the night in his mind again and reviewing the scene looking for anything that might have a set of his or the Winchesters’ fingerprints.
The Winchesters are well known to the system, but it would be disastrous if Castiel’s prints were found.
Sam and the women are nowhere to be found when they finally get outside.
“Where’s your brother?” Castiel asks.
Dean shrugs. “He probably took them a couple of blocks away to catch a cab. Wouldn’t be good to get one right at the crime scene.”
Castiel nods. “Of course.”
“How did you get here anyway?” Dean asks.
“My car is at Gabriel’s club. I followed them here on foot.”
Dean’s anger flares back to life again. “So you had no backup and no car when you went in there?”
Castiel’s eyebrows come together in another frown. “What good would my car have done me if I had been attacked by vampires?”
Dean opens his mouth to argue, realizes he has no rational, logical answer and shuts it again with a click. “Let’s just get you back to your car. You should call your brother too.”
Castiel frowns at the suggestion but pulls out his phone and calls Gabriel anyway.
“So you’re okay,” Gabriel asks for the third time.
“Yes,” Castiel answers tiredly. “I am quite able to take care of myself despite what you and… others seem to think.” He glances sideways at Dean as he makes the statement.
Dean appears to ignore him.
“Speaking of your new special friend,” starts Gabriel. “Yowza! What a looker! And his brother! Honestly, what kind of deal with the devil does it take to get genetics like that?”
“Good night, Gabriel,” intones Cas lowly and then hangs up on the next lewd thing his brother was surely about to utter.
They’re halfway back to the club when Dean’s phone buzzes he reads a new text quickly.
“Son of a-” Dean mutters and then sighs.
“Problem?”
“Yes. No. Yes,” Dean says in succession. “Sammy took the car.” He pauses and rubs his chin and lips with his hand, looking slightly awkward and young in the street light. “Uh, can I get a ride?” he asks, looking up sheepishly from under his eyelashes.
“Of course,” Castiel says easily. It’s not as though he would strand the man who just came to his rescue. “I’ve actually been meaning to speak to you about some of Uriel’s symbols we’ve been investigating.”
“See there you go with this ‘we’ business again, Cas,” Dean starts.
Castiel feels a surge of anger well up. He’s not a victim. No matter how he may sometimes feel like it in the middle of the night when he remembers the way Uriel carved into his chest or when he can still hear the ominous chanting in his ear. He is not helpless. He is not in need of being protected or rescued. So, he cuts Dean off. “If you don’t wish to speak of it with me, than we won’t, but make no mistake, I will not stop investigating Uriel and his actions. Yes, you happened upon what Uriel was doing and you rescued me and for that I am grateful, but if you think you can persuade me to stop by repeatedly informing me it is dangerous to pursue my investigation then we have nothing further to say to one another.”
Dean stops still and stares at him and Castiel feels a surge of triumph at the surprised look on his face. He increases his speed, walking faster back toward the club and his car.
“Whoa, whoa,” Dean calls from behind him and Castiel can hear his fast footfalls as he catches up, sees him out of the corner of his eye as he falls into step beside Castiel once more. “You’re pretty tough for a nerdy little dude.”
Castiel stops once more and glares at him. Dean holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender.
“All right, all right. Truce. Sorry.”
Castiel searches his face for a moment, looking for any insincerity and, finding none, turns away again and resumes their walk back toward his car.
“So, uh, you were saying, about the symbols?” Dean asks and Castiel can hear how careful he’s being with his tone.
Castiel risks a quick glance sideways at him and nods once quickly. “Yes. I believe I may have broken part of the code, or at least, be making headway towards its decipherment.” They’ve finally reached the back lot of the club, the bass of the music a pulsing beat in the background. Castiel takes the last few steps to the driver side of his car and looks over the roof at Dean.
“I suppose I could scan and email them to your phone,” he pauses, not sure what he’s going to say next until the words are out of his mouth. “Or you could come back to my apartment with me and we could review the drawings.”
Dean smirks. “Cas, are you inviting me back to your place to see your etchings?”
Castiel frowns, unsure how to interpret Dean’s tone. “Yes,” he says simply, deciding to go for the straightforward, obvious answer.
Dean’s smile seems wry and amused, but not cruel, Castiel thinks. Dean’s eyes flick away for a moment and then back at Cas.
“All right. Let’s go see your drawings.”
***
On to Part 4