Fic: But Water Is Wider 2/5 (Supernatural/White Collar; R)
Title: But Water Is Wider
Author: misachan
Artist: sgmajorshipper (Link to Art Master Post)
Crossover: Supernatural/White Collar
Word Count: 5847
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Peter/Elizabeth, Neal, Sam, Jones, Diana
Warnings: Hellhound-related violence, some language
Spoilers: Set S5 for SPN, S2 for White Collar
Summary: Dean knows they've had hunts go worse than this, but right now he's having trouble thinking of any. What should have been a simple haunted painting salt-and-burn gets sticky when the head of the theft ring they've conned their way into turns out to be on the FBI payroll. With Sam stuck in custod Dean calls in Castiel, hoping some angel mojo might lead to a quick escape and Cas quickly finds enough bubbling beneath the surface to attract his attention - like hellhounds prowling the halls of FBI headquarters. Sam also finds the day full of surprises: when Agent Burke starts the interrogation the only questions he has involve a thick file all about Sam and Dean, a fire in a Colorado police precinct and how Victor Hendrickson really died.
Neal knows he should have slipped his tracker and run off days ago, when he first heard the howls. Now he's scrambling to keep his old crossroads mistake from bringing everyone down with him, and it's not long before Peter, Dean, Sam, Cas, Jones and Diana all find themselves caught in the web, and Elizabeth finds herself with a choice: rejoin the family she's left behind or save the one she's built.
When hellhounds come baying for blood, even angels have nowhere to hide.
Elizabeth took a deep breath as she closed the door behind her, wondering how many more chances she would have to feel air in her lungs. "I didn't think it would be you," she said, turning around to face him. "I've been waiting so long for someone to find me but I never thought they would send you."
His brow furrowed. "You think I'm here to bring you home?"
"Aren't you?"
He shook his head, letting out a soft, almost scoffing sound. "You have been gone a long time." He tilted his head again. "I'm curious. Who did you think would be sent?"
Elizabeth hugged her arms across her chest, the shock of finding Castiel sitting in her living room after not seeing another angel for so long settling into a wary uneasiness. This wasn't at all how she'd always imagined this conversation would go. "I don't know. Uriel, maybe. He was usually sent out for these kinds of things."
He made that scoffing sound again and Elizabeth felt the uneasiness turn into alarm. None of this was like the taciturn brother she remembered. "You can lay that worry to rest," he said, a bitter twist to the words.
"Why?"
He looked down at the floor, his expression changing into something that turned her stomach to ice. "He's dead. For nearly a year now."
"What? How?"
He glanced at her curiously. "You and he were never close."
"That doesn't mean I wanted him dead." In fact, she could count on one hand the number of her siblings she'd disliked more than Uriel but that didn't dull the shock of finding he was gone.
"You only say that because you don't know what he was doing." He shook his head. "If you returned home now you would find many missing voices." He looked back at her, the fury in his eyes tempered by something raw that made her want to sink into the floor. "We thought you lost. Anna fell and then you disappeared. Right before the Siege."
"Castiel, I'm not a solider, I was never going to be part of the Siege...." She trailed off at the look on his face; it was a flimsy excuse and she knew it.
"No one at the garrison knew what had become of you. We grieved for you."
She could only sigh. "I wasn't trying to hurt anyone."
"Elisheva...."
"It's Elizabeth now."
It was like she'd slapped him. The look in his eyes went hard as he examined her again. "You're dampening your Grace. You're even allowing your vessel to age."
"Well, of course I am. I didn't want to be found, remember? And humans tend to notice after a while if you just don't age."
His voice was soft when he spoke again. "Why did you do this? You knew Earth was being opened to us again after the Siege. We needed you."
Elizabeth sank down on the couch, confident now that why ever Castiel had reappeared in her life, he wasn't going to drag her back to Heaven in the next five minutes. "It wasn't planned," she finally said. "I did intend to return when my mission was over. Then a week before I was supposed to go back the gallery where I was working was robbed and the agent they sent to investigate was funny and cute and...just terrible at flirting. Honestly, just the worst you've ever seen," she said, smiling at the memory. "And he was honest. And courageous and...noble. He shines, Castiel. You look at his soul and he shines. I never realized how disappointing we are until I met a human who really was everything we're supposed to be." She let out a long breath. "So I was curious. And I was selfish," she admitted. "I decided, okay, I'll overstay another week. Just one week. Then it was a second week. Then I just stayed." She looked up at him. "Do you like coffee?"
He frowned, clearly thrown by the change of subject. "I...don't know?"
"I'll make us some. This is definitely a conversation that needs coffee." She got up, watching him fidget from the corner of her eye as she turned on the coffee maker. "You can sit, you know."
"I'm fine," Castiel answered, as if he thought he could get back control of the conversation if he just kept standing.
"Suit yourself." She breathed deep as she poured out the coffee. Elizabeth knew Peter would never believe how literally she meant it when she said coffee smelled better than Heaven. "How do you take it?" she called back to Castiel.
"Take what?"
Elizabeth grinned. "You look like a milk and sugar person." She walked back over with the two mugs, placing one on a coaster on the table and taking a long, bracing sip from the other. "I should have left when I knew he was going to propose," she said, staring off into the memory. "I'd been planning to, actually."
"What changed?"
She looked up at him, glad that the hostility was gone from his voice. "There was a case. It was a forgery ring; all of these 'forgotten' works by great masters were surfacing and being sold through private dealers, just to make it all seem more exclusive. Peter's worked hundreds of variations on that over the years, even by then it was practically routine, but when it came time for the arrest things went wrong." She took another sip of coffee, the taste bitter now. "The leading story on the news that night was about two FBI agents shot in Queens and Castiel, I swear, I would rather be stabbed than ever feel that way again. That was the last time I flew." She could still feel that moment she first saw Peter safe and sound, as if it lived permanently in her bones. "He was fine, just grazed, but the other agent died."
"If he had died he would be in Heaven."
"I didn't want him to be. And I know exactly how terrible that is, you don't have to tell me." She tapped her fingernail against the mug. "He told me that he'd been shot at before but this was the first time he'd been afraid to die because that meant he would never see me again. He may as well put a tether on me," she said, shaking her head. "He proposed two weeks later and I never once regretted saying yes." She looked up at him. "Aren't you going to ask how I could choose one human over all of Heaven?"
To her surprise he sat beside her with the heaviest sigh she'd ever heard. "Humans are vexing," was all he said.
She stared at him for a long moment, then pressed his coffee mug into his hands. "Drink this before it gets cold," she said, smiling when he took a sip as solemnly as if he were receiving communion.
He frowned for a moment. "Should this be sweeter?"
"I'll get you some more sugar," she said, taking his mug to stir in another cube. "I saw you at the station with the Righteous Man," she said, keeping her tone carefully light as she handed him back his coffee.
"Dean," he said, as if all of Heaven didn't know his name. "His name is Dean." He took another sip of coffee, nodding absently when it seemingly passed inspection. "I'm not here to bring to bring you back to Heaven."
"I'd gathered that." She put her mug back down on its coaster and squeezed his arm, encouraging him to look at her. "Whatever brought you here, I'm very glad I got to see you again."
He looked away, his lips twisting into a bitter line. "I think you're the only one of our family who would say that to me now." He let out a long breath. "I've been barred from Heaven. Cut off. I can't even hear any of their voices any more." The look in his eyes when he turned back to her was so breathtakingly desolate she reached out to hold his hand. "If you brought me to Heaven now you would probably be rewarded."
"I would never," she murmured. The sentiment only strengthened when she took a careful look at him, past his vessel and into the frayed wreck of his Grace, and while seeing the torn and tattered edges was upsetting it was what she would expect from someone in exile. What sent her heart up into her throat was the faint spiderweb of cracks running all through him, such clear record of his Grace being ripped apart and stitched back together over and over again it was like she was could watch it happen. Only one thing caused scars like that.
He caught the look on her face and flinched away. "I didn't know it was so obvious."
She traced along his hairline, an analogous spot to one of the scars. "I won't apologize for looking." She was having a hard time fighting down the righteous fury as she gazed into the depth of the suffering he'd been put through; living with humans had only increased her already keen dislike of torture, especially when it hid behind euphemisms like persuasion. "If I go back I wonder if they'll do that to me."
"That won't happen," he insisted, as if just saying the words could make it true.
"It should never happen." She squeezed his hand again."I'm very proud of you, Castiel." He gave her a sideways glance, as if he thought she was making fun of him. "Stop that. I am. We've both seen brothers come back from persuasions as shells, they were so broken."
"I did break," he said softly. "I'd discovered information that could have prevented the final Seal from breaking." He turned back her, fresh horror in his eyes. "You don't know how corrupt we've become. Heaven is helping to orchestrate the Apocalypse. They allowed the Seals to break, time after time. I found this out and they recalled me before I could tell Dean. By the time they were done with me I'd been...persuaded to keep silent."
"Oh, sweetie, please don't do this to yourself." She could only sigh when he looked away again, shame etched in every line of his face. "Did you tell Dean?"
"By then it was too late."
She rolled her eyes. "But you told him."
Now he just seemed confused, which at least was a step up from the self-flagellation quicksand he'd mired himself in. "Yes?"
She sighed, resisting the urge to explain this the way she would to a five-year-old. "So after being dragged kicking and screaming from your vessel, and don't you dare pretend that isn't how it happened, and going through what we both know is a lot more than just persuasion, you then turned around and did the one thing they'd tried to brainwash you into not doing. Then you apparently rebelled enough that they exiled you completely. Castiel, don't you see how miraculous that is?"
"They did rather more than exile me then," he murmured, but she could tell he hadn't thought about it like that before. Before she could ask what he'd meant by that his expression shuttered. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."
"Okay." She propped her chin up on one hand. "Tell me about this Dean, then."
His lips pressed together. "He's stubborn. And profane, and indulges in a long series of vices. I think he creates new forms of blasphemy just so I can censure him for it. I've never known a being who had to question everything the way he does."
"That does sound vexing."
He stared down at his hands. "I understand what you mean. How a soul can shine." He glanced up at her, his brows suddenly furrowed. "How did you know Dean as the Righteous Man before I said his name?"
"Because you marked him," she said, nudging his shoulder with her own. "Why did you do that?"
She didn't think she'd ever seen her brother look embarrassed before. "I was wounded fighting our way back out of Hell. I wanted to make sure that if I...fell in battle the next of the garrison sent would be able to find him. I forgot to remove it when we finally did escape, and once I rebuilt his body it was too late. I didn't know it would bleed through that way."
"I was so afraid for you when they said they were just sending you into Hell. I'm glad I was wrong." She leaned against the back of the sofa and raked one hand through her hair. "And again, I know, my timing sucked," she said, enjoying the sideways glance he gave her at such language. "Especially so soon after Anna fell." He pulled away from her and she touched his arm. "I'm sorry. I know you two were close...."
He flinched away, hissing in a sharp, pained breath. "Please don't."
She stared at him, understanding coming in a slow, cold wave. "No." The look in his eyes was the only confirmation she needed. "When?"
"That depends on your definition of time."
"Who found her?"
"Michael," he whispered, still not able to look her in the eye.
She took both of his hands in hers, squeezing hard until his eyes darted back up toward hers. "Castiel, tell me everything that happened since I've been gone. Everything I've missed."
The bitter twist was back on his lips. "You won't want to be in the same room as me if I do."
"You're my brother. Nothing you're going to say now can change that." He was still looking at her like she was going to stab him if he said the wrong thing. "Castiel," she sighed. "Have some faith in me, would you?"
Those were the right words. She could actually see him make that leap as he started to speak, starting at the Siege and working back from there.
***
She wasn't surprised about Uriel. He'd been a smug loose canon even with Anna to rein him in and she could almost sympathize with not wanting to serve under the kind of madness Michael had fallen into, even if the only other choice he could see was another kind of madness - or at least she could if he hadn't decided that murdering his way through the garrison was the way to achieve that particular goal. She frankly wasn't surprised by anything Castiel told her about Michael, or Raphael and Gabriel either, for that matter; the archangels had so little to do with their younger siblings they were little more than names spoken in hushed tones anyway. At least Gabriel had managed to be disappointing with flair.
What did horrify her was the sheer number of brothers and sisters she would never see again. If she returned today she didn't know that she would recognize Heaven anymore.
Castiel was quiet for a long time when he finally finished speaking, absently scratching Satchmo behind one ear (he'd padded over midway through Castiel's story and unceremoniously dropped his head in her poor brother's lap, demanding attention like he'd known him for a thousand years.) Elizabeth hadn't been away from home so long she couldn't recognize someone waiting for judgment. She squeezed his hands, trying to get him to look at her. "Castiel," she sighed. She leaned forward and kissed his temple, right on his hairline over the crack in his Grace. "I'm very glad you found me, brother."
The look he gave her was so nakedly grateful she felt her eyes well up. Just then she heard a key in the door and turned around. "That's Peter," she said, looking at the clock in relief. "And only an hour late. That's punctual for him that past few days."
"I'll leave...." Castiel started to say before she put one hand on his sleeve.
"Why? I want you to meet him." She had to turn away to keep from laughing at the flash of sheer panic on his face, then a second later Peter walked through this door and it was too late for her poor brother to make an escape.
Peter's shoulders were slumped with exhaustion but he still brought himself up short when he saw a stranger in his apartment, his eyes going sharp. "Am I interrupting something?" he said, one eyebrow arched to take the sting out and make the words teasing. "I could walk back out and come back in...."
"Oh, stop it," she said, walking over to throw her arms around him. "You said you wouldn't be late," she whispered through her teeth.
"I know, hon, I'm sorry. This case should be done soon, I promise."
She pulled herself away and went back to Castiel, half-dragging him up from the couch. "Peter, you remember how I told you once there was that one side of my family I wouldn't talk about?" He nodded, waiting for her to finish. "This is my brother Cas," she said, nudging him forward. "He's actually having the same trouble with them right now."
Castiel gave Peter a formal nod. "El...izabeth told me a great deal about you," he said, glancing over at her for approval.
Peter just answered with a friendly clap on the shoulder, startling Castiel so much he took a stutter step to the side. "Hey, great, any family of El's is always welcome." He gave Castiel a curious look. "We've never met before, have we?"
Castiel shook his head. "Not before today."
For a second Elizabeth thought Peter would remember seeing him at the station, but he finally just shrugged the thought away. Elizabeth said a silent prayer of thanks for exhaustion. "Hon, I'm gonna grab a shower. If Neal or Jones calls, could you pick up? Neal especially, he barely said two words to anyone after we made the collar."
"With the amount of sleep you've been letting him have I'm surprised he managed those two."
"I know. We're all in the same boat," Peter said, giving her a quick peck on the lips. "You too. This'll all be over soon." He nodded over toward Castiel. "Your brother sticking around? I'll feel less guilty if I'm abandoning you with some company."
"Um...I...have someone waiting for me," Castiel said, eyes wide at the attention going back to him.
Peter shrugged, giving Elizabeth another peck on the cheek and she nodded to him over Peter's shoulder, giving him leave to escape. She was relieved to see him move to use the door - she didn't want to have to explain her brother disappearing into thin air - but he paused with his hand on the knob, looking over his shoulder. Peter slipped away to take his well deserved shower and while she wanted nothing more to join him something made her stay. "Castiel? Is everything all right?"
"Peter mentioned a Neal. Did he mean Neal Caffrey?"
Elizabeth frowned. "Well...yes. He's a consultant, why do you know his name?"
He tilted his head to one side. "Is this Caffrey precious to you?"
She opened her mouth but couldn't find any words. "Yes," she finally said, fear spreading like ice through her stomach. "He is. To both of us."
Castiel frowned. "He's made a crossroads deal," he said softly. "And it's come due."
It took a second to remember how to breathe. "No."
He shook his head. "I killed a hellhound earlier today that had his scent. I heard the claim in his heartbeat. If you listen you'll hear it too."
"Castiel...."
"I'll be vigilant. I swear to you." A second later he was gone in a quick flutter of wings.
Elizabeth stared at the empty space in reality for a moment, then she slid her phone out of her pocket and pressed send on the second number in her contacts, her hands shaking too hard to even consider dialing. She had to lean against the couch when she heard Neal's voice on the other end of the line. "Elizabeth? Hey, what's up?"
"Neal, are you okay?"
"What? Yeah, I'm fine. Pretty beat, but we all are."
She could hear the din of New York City morning traffic behind him. "But are you okay?"
There was the slightest pause before Neal spoke. Elizabeth didn't think anyone aside from herself and Peter would ever have noticed it. "Of course I am."
Elizabeth tightened her grip on the phone. She'd heard that quaver in his voice once before, during a different phone call. "Don't do it."
"El, come on, I don't know what you...."
"Neal." She heard his breath catch. "Let us help you."
If it hadn't been for the sound of traffic Elizabeth would have thought she'd lost the call. "You and Peter mean the world to me," he finally said. "Whatever happens, you guys should know that."
"Neal, you don't have to do this on your own."
"I'm glad you called. Don't worry so much, okay? You know I'm always fine." And with that the call ended, the phone a heavy weight in Elizabeth's hand.
***
"A freaking angel?"
Castiel gave him a look and Dean felt the other agents hiding out in the commissary turn around to stare; he ducked his head, avoiding eye contact with any of them and made sure to lower his voice. "Sorry. But seriously, you're telling me Burke's wife is actually an angel. Of the Lord."
"There isn't any other kind," Cas said, frowning in that way that meant he thought Dean was making fun of him and didn't know why.
"Man, and I thought she was out of his league before." He took another sip of truly terrible coffee. "I thought you guys didn't...y'know, do that stuff.
Castiel squirmed in his seat, like the whole topic was mortifying. "It's rare, but not unheard of. You could say Gabriel did something similar when he posed as a trickster all this time. "
"Guess I just didn't expect to find an angel slumming as some cop's wife." He gave Castiel a hard look. "You okay?"
"Of course I am," he said, his brow furrowing.
"'Cause things tend to get a little...stabby when you have family reunions lately."
Castiel dropped his gaze, playing with a loose thread on his coat. "Elisheva...Elizabeth," he said, correcting himself, "has been absent from Heaven long enough to be unaware of how things have changed. She thought at first I was there to take her back."
"What's the deal with that, anyway? That night in the barn you said no angels had been on Earth for two thousand years. I did some asking around about Burke and they've been married at least ten."
Castiel shook his head. "We haven't been allowed to act openly or in numbers in two thousand years. Our wars have been elsewhere." He steepled his hands and Dean felt a twinge of irritation as he recognized the look of Castiel trying to explain Heavenly things to Dean's puny human brain. "Not all angels in a garrison are soldiers. Some are administrators...."
"Like Zachariah? Middle management dicks?"
"You could put it that way, I suppose," Cas said, frowning like he wasn't quite sure that was appropriate.
"So, was that her deal? Cause she doesn't seem the type."
Castiel only shook his head again. "No. Elizabeth is...." The frown deepened as Castiel searched for the right words. "The Enochian doesn't translate cleanly."
"Give it a shot."
Castiel drummed his fingers against the table. "One who goes before and gathers wisdom to prepare the way," he finally settled on.
Dean ran that through his mental translator, which always got a workout around Castiel. "Scout, maybe?"
Cas sighed. "I suppose that's adequate. It lacks some nuance." He tilted his head as he chose his words. "Human society changes very quickly. Two hundred years is a significant number, let alone two thousand, and there have been times when we've been required to blend in to accomplish various missions. Look at the dream world Zachariah created for you. In depth knowledge of human culture is needed for that kind of deception. To say nothing of gathering intelligence on demon activity - they've been active among humans since the first day of their creation. Having advance knowledge of their plans and location is the best weapon against them."
Dean took a second to parse that. "So you're saying she was...what, undercover?"
Castiel nodded. "She was sent ahead to prepare the rest of the garrison for our eventual deployment." His eyes went distant. "It's a prestigious duty, and a very dangerous one. Uriel believed that only angels can kill angels but if our weapons are used against us we're very mortal. Our Father granted very few of us the subtlety to observe humans for long without either giving ourselves away or attracting unwanted attention."
Something about the way he phrased that made Dean narrow his eyes. "That sounds a lot like the way nature scientists talk when they're out studying monkeys, Cas." Castiel's lips quirked up as he considered that and Dean rolled his eyes. "Cas."
"You're the one who came up with the comparison."
Dean decided he would get Cas back for that later. "So she was here doing her spy thing and decided to go native? Am I reading this right?"
"When she didn't return at the appointed time we feared the worst."
"Wait a second, if you guys have angels whose whole job is to tell you about humans why do you suck at it so bad? You sleep through that briefing?"
"As I said, we thought her lost," Castiel said, annoyance sharpening his words. "And I was in Hell for a good portion of the 'briefing,' as you put it." He didn't add fetching you, but with the glare he was sending in Dean's direction he didn't need to.
"Relax, Cas. Just messing with you." He leaned back in the cheap plastic chair, studying Castiel. "Dude, seriously, I don't think I've seen you this happy before." Castiel gave him another Are you teasing me? look and Dean raised his hands. "I mean it. This is practically giddy. Y'know, for you, anyway."
Castiel lowered his eyes again, like he was embarrassed Dean had noticed his good mood. "I am very pleased to see my sister again."
"Well, zap me and Sam out of here and the two of you can go back to getting reacquainted." Castiel shifted in his chair, glancing up once, and Dean got a bad, bad feeling. "I'm not gonna like any of this, am I."
"The human you pointed out to me before. Neal Caffrey," he said. "He's made a crossroads deal that's come due. Hellhounds have already been sent. I fought one earlier today."
Dean hoped that the way the word hellhound sent ice up his spine didn't show on his face. "So that's where you...." He couldn't finish the sentence; the knowledge that a hellhound had been so close squeezed his chest like a vise. "And that's our problem now?"
"Caffrey is dear to Elizabeth," Castiel said, as if that would be all the explanation needed.
And yeah, Dean had to admit that worked pretty well. "So you're just gonna stop him and his stupid hat from getting dragged off to hell, then? Just like that?"
Castiel tipped his chin up, like he thought Dean was testing him. "Yes." Then he looked down again, that flash of angelic arrogance melting away. "But it's a hazardous task. If you'd rather me remove you and Sam first...."
Dean clapped him on the shoulder. "Dude, if you think I'm letting you kick the crap out of some hellhounds without me you're nuts. Stumbling over hunts is usually me and Sam's gig, we must be rubbing off on you. We'll make a hunter out of you yet, Cas."
Castiel looked at him like he wasn't quite sure if that was supposed to be a compliment or not, but at least he seemed to take it as one. "I appreciate your aid."
Dean leaned forward, elbows on the table. "So, what's the plan? We find the demon that has the contract and we gank it, right? Can't be Lilith any more, so that's one point in our favor."
"It won't be that simple. I tried to get the name from the hellhound before I slew it and it refused me. That shouldn't have been possible---"
"Wait, you can talk to hellhounds?"
Castiel raised his eyebrows, as clear a don't interrupt me look as Dean had ever seen. "As I was saying, I should have been able to compel the creature. I don't know why I couldn't. And the beast itself was strange. I've never encountered one like it before. Whoever this demon is, they've sent an inordinate number of hellhounds for this soul, more than twice the number sent for yours."
Well, that was a brand new nightmare Dean had never known he'd been missing out on. "Didn't know there'd been more than one," he muttered, his skin crawling. "You think the hounds are dangerous to people other than Caffrey?"
"I'm not sure," he said, drumming his fingers against the table again. "Everything about this is very strange."
"Hey, you know I'm in," Dean said, pushing the upcoming hellhound freakout far away until he could drink enough to deal with it. "Where do you want to start?"
"We should inform Sam," Cas said, pressing two fingers to his forehead before Dean could do anything to stop him.
***
Sam didn't know what woke him. Some sound. He blinked his eyes open, first taking in the florescent lighting in the room, then the hard table he'd fallen asleep on. It took a full second for him to focus enough to make out Castiel peering at him literally inches in front of his face.
So of course Sam reacted the way any sane person would: yelping and jerking back so quickly he almost tumbled backward in his chair. "Cas! Jesus. No." Castiel just straightened up, giving him that confused bird look he was so good at. "Don't add angel-induced heart attack to the ways I die, okay?" Sam glanced over at the mirror along the wall and suddenly remembered exactly where he was. "Shit, we probably have every agent in building watching right now."
"Nah, Sam," he heard Dean say, the first time he realized his brother was also in the room. "Cas has his mojo on."
"And at any rate, this is a dream," Castiel said. "Any onlookers would just see you sleeping."
Which seemed to be news to Dean; he spun toward Cas, eyebrows practically up into his hairline. "Whoa, wait. We're in his dream? Did you take me into Sam's head?"
Sam raised his hands, wanting to cut this off before it went any farther. "Look, I don't care how you're talking to me, just tell me you're getting me out of here."
He saw Dean and Castiel share a look and felt his stomach sink down toward his shoes. Cas settled against the mirror and Dean look the chair across the table from him. "We got a problem, Sam."
"You're telling me. Dean, the guy in charge, Agent Burke? He didn't care about the con I got caught on, that was just his excuse. Once he sat me down all he kept asking was about Hendrickson and what went on in Denver."
"Fuck." Dean leaned back for a second, letting that sink in. "Fuck, that makes sense. That's why he keeps looking at me like I'm some bug."
Sam narrowed his eyes. "So what else is going on? Because honestly, that's really bad enough."
Dean glanced over at Castiel and let out a breath. "Okay, just to sum things up, remember your buddy Caffrey? He's got hellhounds out to drag him down to the Pit and we're going to do something about it. Oh, and Burke's wife is actually an angel. At least she's one who's on our side for once."
Sam blinked at that. "Okay." He was beginning to hope this actually would turn into a garden variety nightmare any second now. "And you're not busting me out of here....?"
"Cas says there's something weird about these hellhounds and that there's enough of them running around that they might not just be after one guy. I know everyone here's a fed but when it comes to this they're still civilians. Someone needs to be here keeping an eye on things."
Sam saw the way his brother's hand flexed on the table and knew his mind was back in a dingy Colorado motel room, watching a news report about an explosion at a police precinct and hearing the words no survivors. He should have known he wouldn't be the only one feeling Victor Hendrickson's ghost during all this. "Timing's kind of funny, isn't it. Us just happening to be here when this is going on."
"Yeah, we're a bunch of lucky sons of bitches."
"I'll keep my eyes open. But Dean, if a hellhound does show up...."
"That's why I'm giving you this," he said, brandishing Ruby's knife.
"No. No way. You need that, you're the one..."
"Sam I've got salt, guns and two really motivated angels. You've got jack. You're taking this and you're not gonna argue."
Sam slumped down in his chair. "You were totally right about coming to New York, by the way."
"I'm always right, Sam. Should have figured that out by now."
Just then they heard the sound of a muffled, tinny ring tone; Sam knew he didn't have his and he frowned at Dean. "That you?"
Dean shook his head. "That sound like AC/DC to you?" It took another second, but they both turned to stare at Castiel, still leaning against the mirror lost in his own thoughts. Dean sighed, rubbing his forehead like he had a migraine coming on. "Dude. You gonna get that?"
Castiel just blinked at him, his brow furrowing. "But...both of you are here," he said, sliding the phone out of his pocket and looking at it like it had been possessed. He flipped it open and pressed it to his ear as if he thought it might explode any second. "Um...hello?" It only took a second for his eyes to go wide with alarm. "Why? What happened?" He listened for another few seconds, then nodded once. "We'll be there." He stepped forward and touched Dean's shoulder, and with a flutter of wings they were both gone.
Sam startled awake, alone in the FBI interrogation room. For an instant he thought that really all had been a dream - right up until he realized he had Ruby's long knife clutched tight in one fist. He quickly tucked it away out of sight, hoping with everything he had no one had seen it.
No one came bursting into the room and Sam felt his heart slowly stop pounding, thankful that finally at least one thing had gone his way. He closed his eyes again, expecting to hear growls coming from every corner.
-Back to Part 1-
-Back to Masterpost-
-On to Part 3-
Author: misachan
Artist: sgmajorshipper (Link to Art Master Post)
Crossover: Supernatural/White Collar
Word Count: 5847
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Peter/Elizabeth, Neal, Sam, Jones, Diana
Warnings: Hellhound-related violence, some language
Spoilers: Set S5 for SPN, S2 for White Collar
Summary: Dean knows they've had hunts go worse than this, but right now he's having trouble thinking of any. What should have been a simple haunted painting salt-and-burn gets sticky when the head of the theft ring they've conned their way into turns out to be on the FBI payroll. With Sam stuck in custod Dean calls in Castiel, hoping some angel mojo might lead to a quick escape and Cas quickly finds enough bubbling beneath the surface to attract his attention - like hellhounds prowling the halls of FBI headquarters. Sam also finds the day full of surprises: when Agent Burke starts the interrogation the only questions he has involve a thick file all about Sam and Dean, a fire in a Colorado police precinct and how Victor Hendrickson really died.
Neal knows he should have slipped his tracker and run off days ago, when he first heard the howls. Now he's scrambling to keep his old crossroads mistake from bringing everyone down with him, and it's not long before Peter, Dean, Sam, Cas, Jones and Diana all find themselves caught in the web, and Elizabeth finds herself with a choice: rejoin the family she's left behind or save the one she's built.
When hellhounds come baying for blood, even angels have nowhere to hide.
Elizabeth took a deep breath as she closed the door behind her, wondering how many more chances she would have to feel air in her lungs. "I didn't think it would be you," she said, turning around to face him. "I've been waiting so long for someone to find me but I never thought they would send you."
His brow furrowed. "You think I'm here to bring you home?"
"Aren't you?"
He shook his head, letting out a soft, almost scoffing sound. "You have been gone a long time." He tilted his head again. "I'm curious. Who did you think would be sent?"
Elizabeth hugged her arms across her chest, the shock of finding Castiel sitting in her living room after not seeing another angel for so long settling into a wary uneasiness. This wasn't at all how she'd always imagined this conversation would go. "I don't know. Uriel, maybe. He was usually sent out for these kinds of things."
He made that scoffing sound again and Elizabeth felt the uneasiness turn into alarm. None of this was like the taciturn brother she remembered. "You can lay that worry to rest," he said, a bitter twist to the words.
"Why?"
He looked down at the floor, his expression changing into something that turned her stomach to ice. "He's dead. For nearly a year now."
"What? How?"
He glanced at her curiously. "You and he were never close."
"That doesn't mean I wanted him dead." In fact, she could count on one hand the number of her siblings she'd disliked more than Uriel but that didn't dull the shock of finding he was gone.
"You only say that because you don't know what he was doing." He shook his head. "If you returned home now you would find many missing voices." He looked back at her, the fury in his eyes tempered by something raw that made her want to sink into the floor. "We thought you lost. Anna fell and then you disappeared. Right before the Siege."
"Castiel, I'm not a solider, I was never going to be part of the Siege...." She trailed off at the look on his face; it was a flimsy excuse and she knew it.
"No one at the garrison knew what had become of you. We grieved for you."
She could only sigh. "I wasn't trying to hurt anyone."
"Elisheva...."
"It's Elizabeth now."
It was like she'd slapped him. The look in his eyes went hard as he examined her again. "You're dampening your Grace. You're even allowing your vessel to age."
"Well, of course I am. I didn't want to be found, remember? And humans tend to notice after a while if you just don't age."
His voice was soft when he spoke again. "Why did you do this? You knew Earth was being opened to us again after the Siege. We needed you."
Elizabeth sank down on the couch, confident now that why ever Castiel had reappeared in her life, he wasn't going to drag her back to Heaven in the next five minutes. "It wasn't planned," she finally said. "I did intend to return when my mission was over. Then a week before I was supposed to go back the gallery where I was working was robbed and the agent they sent to investigate was funny and cute and...just terrible at flirting. Honestly, just the worst you've ever seen," she said, smiling at the memory. "And he was honest. And courageous and...noble. He shines, Castiel. You look at his soul and he shines. I never realized how disappointing we are until I met a human who really was everything we're supposed to be." She let out a long breath. "So I was curious. And I was selfish," she admitted. "I decided, okay, I'll overstay another week. Just one week. Then it was a second week. Then I just stayed." She looked up at him. "Do you like coffee?"
He frowned, clearly thrown by the change of subject. "I...don't know?"
"I'll make us some. This is definitely a conversation that needs coffee." She got up, watching him fidget from the corner of her eye as she turned on the coffee maker. "You can sit, you know."
"I'm fine," Castiel answered, as if he thought he could get back control of the conversation if he just kept standing.
"Suit yourself." She breathed deep as she poured out the coffee. Elizabeth knew Peter would never believe how literally she meant it when she said coffee smelled better than Heaven. "How do you take it?" she called back to Castiel.
"Take what?"
Elizabeth grinned. "You look like a milk and sugar person." She walked back over with the two mugs, placing one on a coaster on the table and taking a long, bracing sip from the other. "I should have left when I knew he was going to propose," she said, staring off into the memory. "I'd been planning to, actually."
"What changed?"
She looked up at him, glad that the hostility was gone from his voice. "There was a case. It was a forgery ring; all of these 'forgotten' works by great masters were surfacing and being sold through private dealers, just to make it all seem more exclusive. Peter's worked hundreds of variations on that over the years, even by then it was practically routine, but when it came time for the arrest things went wrong." She took another sip of coffee, the taste bitter now. "The leading story on the news that night was about two FBI agents shot in Queens and Castiel, I swear, I would rather be stabbed than ever feel that way again. That was the last time I flew." She could still feel that moment she first saw Peter safe and sound, as if it lived permanently in her bones. "He was fine, just grazed, but the other agent died."
"If he had died he would be in Heaven."
"I didn't want him to be. And I know exactly how terrible that is, you don't have to tell me." She tapped her fingernail against the mug. "He told me that he'd been shot at before but this was the first time he'd been afraid to die because that meant he would never see me again. He may as well put a tether on me," she said, shaking her head. "He proposed two weeks later and I never once regretted saying yes." She looked up at him. "Aren't you going to ask how I could choose one human over all of Heaven?"
To her surprise he sat beside her with the heaviest sigh she'd ever heard. "Humans are vexing," was all he said.
She stared at him for a long moment, then pressed his coffee mug into his hands. "Drink this before it gets cold," she said, smiling when he took a sip as solemnly as if he were receiving communion.
He frowned for a moment. "Should this be sweeter?"
"I'll get you some more sugar," she said, taking his mug to stir in another cube. "I saw you at the station with the Righteous Man," she said, keeping her tone carefully light as she handed him back his coffee.
"Dean," he said, as if all of Heaven didn't know his name. "His name is Dean." He took another sip of coffee, nodding absently when it seemingly passed inspection. "I'm not here to bring to bring you back to Heaven."
"I'd gathered that." She put her mug back down on its coaster and squeezed his arm, encouraging him to look at her. "Whatever brought you here, I'm very glad I got to see you again."
He looked away, his lips twisting into a bitter line. "I think you're the only one of our family who would say that to me now." He let out a long breath. "I've been barred from Heaven. Cut off. I can't even hear any of their voices any more." The look in his eyes when he turned back to her was so breathtakingly desolate she reached out to hold his hand. "If you brought me to Heaven now you would probably be rewarded."
"I would never," she murmured. The sentiment only strengthened when she took a careful look at him, past his vessel and into the frayed wreck of his Grace, and while seeing the torn and tattered edges was upsetting it was what she would expect from someone in exile. What sent her heart up into her throat was the faint spiderweb of cracks running all through him, such clear record of his Grace being ripped apart and stitched back together over and over again it was like she was could watch it happen. Only one thing caused scars like that.
He caught the look on her face and flinched away. "I didn't know it was so obvious."
She traced along his hairline, an analogous spot to one of the scars. "I won't apologize for looking." She was having a hard time fighting down the righteous fury as she gazed into the depth of the suffering he'd been put through; living with humans had only increased her already keen dislike of torture, especially when it hid behind euphemisms like persuasion. "If I go back I wonder if they'll do that to me."
"That won't happen," he insisted, as if just saying the words could make it true.
"It should never happen." She squeezed his hand again."I'm very proud of you, Castiel." He gave her a sideways glance, as if he thought she was making fun of him. "Stop that. I am. We've both seen brothers come back from persuasions as shells, they were so broken."
"I did break," he said softly. "I'd discovered information that could have prevented the final Seal from breaking." He turned back her, fresh horror in his eyes. "You don't know how corrupt we've become. Heaven is helping to orchestrate the Apocalypse. They allowed the Seals to break, time after time. I found this out and they recalled me before I could tell Dean. By the time they were done with me I'd been...persuaded to keep silent."
"Oh, sweetie, please don't do this to yourself." She could only sigh when he looked away again, shame etched in every line of his face. "Did you tell Dean?"
"By then it was too late."
She rolled her eyes. "But you told him."
Now he just seemed confused, which at least was a step up from the self-flagellation quicksand he'd mired himself in. "Yes?"
She sighed, resisting the urge to explain this the way she would to a five-year-old. "So after being dragged kicking and screaming from your vessel, and don't you dare pretend that isn't how it happened, and going through what we both know is a lot more than just persuasion, you then turned around and did the one thing they'd tried to brainwash you into not doing. Then you apparently rebelled enough that they exiled you completely. Castiel, don't you see how miraculous that is?"
"They did rather more than exile me then," he murmured, but she could tell he hadn't thought about it like that before. Before she could ask what he'd meant by that his expression shuttered. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."
"Okay." She propped her chin up on one hand. "Tell me about this Dean, then."
His lips pressed together. "He's stubborn. And profane, and indulges in a long series of vices. I think he creates new forms of blasphemy just so I can censure him for it. I've never known a being who had to question everything the way he does."
"That does sound vexing."
He stared down at his hands. "I understand what you mean. How a soul can shine." He glanced up at her, his brows suddenly furrowed. "How did you know Dean as the Righteous Man before I said his name?"
"Because you marked him," she said, nudging his shoulder with her own. "Why did you do that?"
She didn't think she'd ever seen her brother look embarrassed before. "I was wounded fighting our way back out of Hell. I wanted to make sure that if I...fell in battle the next of the garrison sent would be able to find him. I forgot to remove it when we finally did escape, and once I rebuilt his body it was too late. I didn't know it would bleed through that way."
"I was so afraid for you when they said they were just sending you into Hell. I'm glad I was wrong." She leaned against the back of the sofa and raked one hand through her hair. "And again, I know, my timing sucked," she said, enjoying the sideways glance he gave her at such language. "Especially so soon after Anna fell." He pulled away from her and she touched his arm. "I'm sorry. I know you two were close...."
He flinched away, hissing in a sharp, pained breath. "Please don't."
She stared at him, understanding coming in a slow, cold wave. "No." The look in his eyes was the only confirmation she needed. "When?"
"That depends on your definition of time."
"Who found her?"
"Michael," he whispered, still not able to look her in the eye.
She took both of his hands in hers, squeezing hard until his eyes darted back up toward hers. "Castiel, tell me everything that happened since I've been gone. Everything I've missed."
The bitter twist was back on his lips. "You won't want to be in the same room as me if I do."
"You're my brother. Nothing you're going to say now can change that." He was still looking at her like she was going to stab him if he said the wrong thing. "Castiel," she sighed. "Have some faith in me, would you?"
Those were the right words. She could actually see him make that leap as he started to speak, starting at the Siege and working back from there.
***
She wasn't surprised about Uriel. He'd been a smug loose canon even with Anna to rein him in and she could almost sympathize with not wanting to serve under the kind of madness Michael had fallen into, even if the only other choice he could see was another kind of madness - or at least she could if he hadn't decided that murdering his way through the garrison was the way to achieve that particular goal. She frankly wasn't surprised by anything Castiel told her about Michael, or Raphael and Gabriel either, for that matter; the archangels had so little to do with their younger siblings they were little more than names spoken in hushed tones anyway. At least Gabriel had managed to be disappointing with flair.
What did horrify her was the sheer number of brothers and sisters she would never see again. If she returned today she didn't know that she would recognize Heaven anymore.
Castiel was quiet for a long time when he finally finished speaking, absently scratching Satchmo behind one ear (he'd padded over midway through Castiel's story and unceremoniously dropped his head in her poor brother's lap, demanding attention like he'd known him for a thousand years.) Elizabeth hadn't been away from home so long she couldn't recognize someone waiting for judgment. She squeezed his hands, trying to get him to look at her. "Castiel," she sighed. She leaned forward and kissed his temple, right on his hairline over the crack in his Grace. "I'm very glad you found me, brother."
The look he gave her was so nakedly grateful she felt her eyes well up. Just then she heard a key in the door and turned around. "That's Peter," she said, looking at the clock in relief. "And only an hour late. That's punctual for him that past few days."
"I'll leave...." Castiel started to say before she put one hand on his sleeve.
"Why? I want you to meet him." She had to turn away to keep from laughing at the flash of sheer panic on his face, then a second later Peter walked through this door and it was too late for her poor brother to make an escape.
Peter's shoulders were slumped with exhaustion but he still brought himself up short when he saw a stranger in his apartment, his eyes going sharp. "Am I interrupting something?" he said, one eyebrow arched to take the sting out and make the words teasing. "I could walk back out and come back in...."
"Oh, stop it," she said, walking over to throw her arms around him. "You said you wouldn't be late," she whispered through her teeth.
"I know, hon, I'm sorry. This case should be done soon, I promise."
She pulled herself away and went back to Castiel, half-dragging him up from the couch. "Peter, you remember how I told you once there was that one side of my family I wouldn't talk about?" He nodded, waiting for her to finish. "This is my brother Cas," she said, nudging him forward. "He's actually having the same trouble with them right now."
Castiel gave Peter a formal nod. "El...izabeth told me a great deal about you," he said, glancing over at her for approval.
Peter just answered with a friendly clap on the shoulder, startling Castiel so much he took a stutter step to the side. "Hey, great, any family of El's is always welcome." He gave Castiel a curious look. "We've never met before, have we?"
Castiel shook his head. "Not before today."
For a second Elizabeth thought Peter would remember seeing him at the station, but he finally just shrugged the thought away. Elizabeth said a silent prayer of thanks for exhaustion. "Hon, I'm gonna grab a shower. If Neal or Jones calls, could you pick up? Neal especially, he barely said two words to anyone after we made the collar."
"With the amount of sleep you've been letting him have I'm surprised he managed those two."
"I know. We're all in the same boat," Peter said, giving her a quick peck on the lips. "You too. This'll all be over soon." He nodded over toward Castiel. "Your brother sticking around? I'll feel less guilty if I'm abandoning you with some company."
"Um...I...have someone waiting for me," Castiel said, eyes wide at the attention going back to him.
Peter shrugged, giving Elizabeth another peck on the cheek and she nodded to him over Peter's shoulder, giving him leave to escape. She was relieved to see him move to use the door - she didn't want to have to explain her brother disappearing into thin air - but he paused with his hand on the knob, looking over his shoulder. Peter slipped away to take his well deserved shower and while she wanted nothing more to join him something made her stay. "Castiel? Is everything all right?"
"Peter mentioned a Neal. Did he mean Neal Caffrey?"
Elizabeth frowned. "Well...yes. He's a consultant, why do you know his name?"
He tilted his head to one side. "Is this Caffrey precious to you?"
She opened her mouth but couldn't find any words. "Yes," she finally said, fear spreading like ice through her stomach. "He is. To both of us."
Castiel frowned. "He's made a crossroads deal," he said softly. "And it's come due."
It took a second to remember how to breathe. "No."
He shook his head. "I killed a hellhound earlier today that had his scent. I heard the claim in his heartbeat. If you listen you'll hear it too."
"Castiel...."
"I'll be vigilant. I swear to you." A second later he was gone in a quick flutter of wings.
Elizabeth stared at the empty space in reality for a moment, then she slid her phone out of her pocket and pressed send on the second number in her contacts, her hands shaking too hard to even consider dialing. She had to lean against the couch when she heard Neal's voice on the other end of the line. "Elizabeth? Hey, what's up?"
"Neal, are you okay?"
"What? Yeah, I'm fine. Pretty beat, but we all are."
She could hear the din of New York City morning traffic behind him. "But are you okay?"
There was the slightest pause before Neal spoke. Elizabeth didn't think anyone aside from herself and Peter would ever have noticed it. "Of course I am."
Elizabeth tightened her grip on the phone. She'd heard that quaver in his voice once before, during a different phone call. "Don't do it."
"El, come on, I don't know what you...."
"Neal." She heard his breath catch. "Let us help you."
If it hadn't been for the sound of traffic Elizabeth would have thought she'd lost the call. "You and Peter mean the world to me," he finally said. "Whatever happens, you guys should know that."
"Neal, you don't have to do this on your own."
"I'm glad you called. Don't worry so much, okay? You know I'm always fine." And with that the call ended, the phone a heavy weight in Elizabeth's hand.
***
"A freaking angel?"
Castiel gave him a look and Dean felt the other agents hiding out in the commissary turn around to stare; he ducked his head, avoiding eye contact with any of them and made sure to lower his voice. "Sorry. But seriously, you're telling me Burke's wife is actually an angel. Of the Lord."
"There isn't any other kind," Cas said, frowning in that way that meant he thought Dean was making fun of him and didn't know why.
"Man, and I thought she was out of his league before." He took another sip of truly terrible coffee. "I thought you guys didn't...y'know, do that stuff.
Castiel squirmed in his seat, like the whole topic was mortifying. "It's rare, but not unheard of. You could say Gabriel did something similar when he posed as a trickster all this time. "
"Guess I just didn't expect to find an angel slumming as some cop's wife." He gave Castiel a hard look. "You okay?"
"Of course I am," he said, his brow furrowing.
"'Cause things tend to get a little...stabby when you have family reunions lately."
Castiel dropped his gaze, playing with a loose thread on his coat. "Elisheva...Elizabeth," he said, correcting himself, "has been absent from Heaven long enough to be unaware of how things have changed. She thought at first I was there to take her back."
"What's the deal with that, anyway? That night in the barn you said no angels had been on Earth for two thousand years. I did some asking around about Burke and they've been married at least ten."
Castiel shook his head. "We haven't been allowed to act openly or in numbers in two thousand years. Our wars have been elsewhere." He steepled his hands and Dean felt a twinge of irritation as he recognized the look of Castiel trying to explain Heavenly things to Dean's puny human brain. "Not all angels in a garrison are soldiers. Some are administrators...."
"Like Zachariah? Middle management dicks?"
"You could put it that way, I suppose," Cas said, frowning like he wasn't quite sure that was appropriate.
"So, was that her deal? Cause she doesn't seem the type."
Castiel only shook his head again. "No. Elizabeth is...." The frown deepened as Castiel searched for the right words. "The Enochian doesn't translate cleanly."
"Give it a shot."
Castiel drummed his fingers against the table. "One who goes before and gathers wisdom to prepare the way," he finally settled on.
Dean ran that through his mental translator, which always got a workout around Castiel. "Scout, maybe?"
Cas sighed. "I suppose that's adequate. It lacks some nuance." He tilted his head as he chose his words. "Human society changes very quickly. Two hundred years is a significant number, let alone two thousand, and there have been times when we've been required to blend in to accomplish various missions. Look at the dream world Zachariah created for you. In depth knowledge of human culture is needed for that kind of deception. To say nothing of gathering intelligence on demon activity - they've been active among humans since the first day of their creation. Having advance knowledge of their plans and location is the best weapon against them."
Dean took a second to parse that. "So you're saying she was...what, undercover?"
Castiel nodded. "She was sent ahead to prepare the rest of the garrison for our eventual deployment." His eyes went distant. "It's a prestigious duty, and a very dangerous one. Uriel believed that only angels can kill angels but if our weapons are used against us we're very mortal. Our Father granted very few of us the subtlety to observe humans for long without either giving ourselves away or attracting unwanted attention."
Something about the way he phrased that made Dean narrow his eyes. "That sounds a lot like the way nature scientists talk when they're out studying monkeys, Cas." Castiel's lips quirked up as he considered that and Dean rolled his eyes. "Cas."
"You're the one who came up with the comparison."
Dean decided he would get Cas back for that later. "So she was here doing her spy thing and decided to go native? Am I reading this right?"
"When she didn't return at the appointed time we feared the worst."
"Wait a second, if you guys have angels whose whole job is to tell you about humans why do you suck at it so bad? You sleep through that briefing?"
"As I said, we thought her lost," Castiel said, annoyance sharpening his words. "And I was in Hell for a good portion of the 'briefing,' as you put it." He didn't add fetching you, but with the glare he was sending in Dean's direction he didn't need to.
"Relax, Cas. Just messing with you." He leaned back in the cheap plastic chair, studying Castiel. "Dude, seriously, I don't think I've seen you this happy before." Castiel gave him another Are you teasing me? look and Dean raised his hands. "I mean it. This is practically giddy. Y'know, for you, anyway."
Castiel lowered his eyes again, like he was embarrassed Dean had noticed his good mood. "I am very pleased to see my sister again."
"Well, zap me and Sam out of here and the two of you can go back to getting reacquainted." Castiel shifted in his chair, glancing up once, and Dean got a bad, bad feeling. "I'm not gonna like any of this, am I."
"The human you pointed out to me before. Neal Caffrey," he said. "He's made a crossroads deal that's come due. Hellhounds have already been sent. I fought one earlier today."
Dean hoped that the way the word hellhound sent ice up his spine didn't show on his face. "So that's where you...." He couldn't finish the sentence; the knowledge that a hellhound had been so close squeezed his chest like a vise. "And that's our problem now?"
"Caffrey is dear to Elizabeth," Castiel said, as if that would be all the explanation needed.
And yeah, Dean had to admit that worked pretty well. "So you're just gonna stop him and his stupid hat from getting dragged off to hell, then? Just like that?"
Castiel tipped his chin up, like he thought Dean was testing him. "Yes." Then he looked down again, that flash of angelic arrogance melting away. "But it's a hazardous task. If you'd rather me remove you and Sam first...."
Dean clapped him on the shoulder. "Dude, if you think I'm letting you kick the crap out of some hellhounds without me you're nuts. Stumbling over hunts is usually me and Sam's gig, we must be rubbing off on you. We'll make a hunter out of you yet, Cas."
Castiel looked at him like he wasn't quite sure if that was supposed to be a compliment or not, but at least he seemed to take it as one. "I appreciate your aid."
Dean leaned forward, elbows on the table. "So, what's the plan? We find the demon that has the contract and we gank it, right? Can't be Lilith any more, so that's one point in our favor."
"It won't be that simple. I tried to get the name from the hellhound before I slew it and it refused me. That shouldn't have been possible---"
"Wait, you can talk to hellhounds?"
Castiel raised his eyebrows, as clear a don't interrupt me look as Dean had ever seen. "As I was saying, I should have been able to compel the creature. I don't know why I couldn't. And the beast itself was strange. I've never encountered one like it before. Whoever this demon is, they've sent an inordinate number of hellhounds for this soul, more than twice the number sent for yours."
Well, that was a brand new nightmare Dean had never known he'd been missing out on. "Didn't know there'd been more than one," he muttered, his skin crawling. "You think the hounds are dangerous to people other than Caffrey?"
"I'm not sure," he said, drumming his fingers against the table again. "Everything about this is very strange."
"Hey, you know I'm in," Dean said, pushing the upcoming hellhound freakout far away until he could drink enough to deal with it. "Where do you want to start?"
"We should inform Sam," Cas said, pressing two fingers to his forehead before Dean could do anything to stop him.
***
Sam didn't know what woke him. Some sound. He blinked his eyes open, first taking in the florescent lighting in the room, then the hard table he'd fallen asleep on. It took a full second for him to focus enough to make out Castiel peering at him literally inches in front of his face.
So of course Sam reacted the way any sane person would: yelping and jerking back so quickly he almost tumbled backward in his chair. "Cas! Jesus. No." Castiel just straightened up, giving him that confused bird look he was so good at. "Don't add angel-induced heart attack to the ways I die, okay?" Sam glanced over at the mirror along the wall and suddenly remembered exactly where he was. "Shit, we probably have every agent in building watching right now."
"Nah, Sam," he heard Dean say, the first time he realized his brother was also in the room. "Cas has his mojo on."
"And at any rate, this is a dream," Castiel said. "Any onlookers would just see you sleeping."
Which seemed to be news to Dean; he spun toward Cas, eyebrows practically up into his hairline. "Whoa, wait. We're in his dream? Did you take me into Sam's head?"
Sam raised his hands, wanting to cut this off before it went any farther. "Look, I don't care how you're talking to me, just tell me you're getting me out of here."
He saw Dean and Castiel share a look and felt his stomach sink down toward his shoes. Cas settled against the mirror and Dean look the chair across the table from him. "We got a problem, Sam."
"You're telling me. Dean, the guy in charge, Agent Burke? He didn't care about the con I got caught on, that was just his excuse. Once he sat me down all he kept asking was about Hendrickson and what went on in Denver."
"Fuck." Dean leaned back for a second, letting that sink in. "Fuck, that makes sense. That's why he keeps looking at me like I'm some bug."
Sam narrowed his eyes. "So what else is going on? Because honestly, that's really bad enough."
Dean glanced over at Castiel and let out a breath. "Okay, just to sum things up, remember your buddy Caffrey? He's got hellhounds out to drag him down to the Pit and we're going to do something about it. Oh, and Burke's wife is actually an angel. At least she's one who's on our side for once."
Sam blinked at that. "Okay." He was beginning to hope this actually would turn into a garden variety nightmare any second now. "And you're not busting me out of here....?"
"Cas says there's something weird about these hellhounds and that there's enough of them running around that they might not just be after one guy. I know everyone here's a fed but when it comes to this they're still civilians. Someone needs to be here keeping an eye on things."
Sam saw the way his brother's hand flexed on the table and knew his mind was back in a dingy Colorado motel room, watching a news report about an explosion at a police precinct and hearing the words no survivors. He should have known he wouldn't be the only one feeling Victor Hendrickson's ghost during all this. "Timing's kind of funny, isn't it. Us just happening to be here when this is going on."
"Yeah, we're a bunch of lucky sons of bitches."
"I'll keep my eyes open. But Dean, if a hellhound does show up...."
"That's why I'm giving you this," he said, brandishing Ruby's knife.
"No. No way. You need that, you're the one..."
"Sam I've got salt, guns and two really motivated angels. You've got jack. You're taking this and you're not gonna argue."
Sam slumped down in his chair. "You were totally right about coming to New York, by the way."
"I'm always right, Sam. Should have figured that out by now."
Just then they heard the sound of a muffled, tinny ring tone; Sam knew he didn't have his and he frowned at Dean. "That you?"
Dean shook his head. "That sound like AC/DC to you?" It took another second, but they both turned to stare at Castiel, still leaning against the mirror lost in his own thoughts. Dean sighed, rubbing his forehead like he had a migraine coming on. "Dude. You gonna get that?"
Castiel just blinked at him, his brow furrowing. "But...both of you are here," he said, sliding the phone out of his pocket and looking at it like it had been possessed. He flipped it open and pressed it to his ear as if he thought it might explode any second. "Um...hello?" It only took a second for his eyes to go wide with alarm. "Why? What happened?" He listened for another few seconds, then nodded once. "We'll be there." He stepped forward and touched Dean's shoulder, and with a flutter of wings they were both gone.
Sam startled awake, alone in the FBI interrogation room. For an instant he thought that really all had been a dream - right up until he realized he had Ruby's long knife clutched tight in one fist. He quickly tucked it away out of sight, hoping with everything he had no one had seen it.
No one came bursting into the room and Sam felt his heart slowly stop pounding, thankful that finally at least one thing had gone his way. He closed his eyes again, expecting to hear growls coming from every corner.
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-On to Part 3-