Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize, this story is for fun, not profit.

Notes: So, this is my new story. Hope you like it. The idea came to me randomly and I ran with it XD pairings include destiel, charlie/dorthy, and maybe some sabriel

Warnings: language, minor character death


Two days after his seventeenth birthday was the worst day of Castiel Novak's life. That was the day he lost everything.

He had always had a simple, peaceful, content life. His dad, James, was an ad salesman, his mom, Amelia, was a dentist, and his sister, Claire, was a vet. Claire was twelve years older than Castiel. While the older three were outgoing and charming, Castiel was very shy and reserved. Of his seventeen years, he had only made two close friends, Uriel Smith and Meg Masters.

Meg was his best friend. The two got along great, considering the two were complete opposites. Meg was loud, brash, and rebellious. She liked to listen to rap music and recently dyed her hair a dark brown so she didn't look like her blonde mother.

While Castiel was very close to his family, Meg hated hers. Lilith, her mother, was an alcoholic drug addict and Meg's father had been in jail long before the two had met. Castiel had reasons to suspect Lilith was abusing Meg, considering Meg never wore short sleeves or shorts and always flinched if you moved too fast, but when he brought his concerns up to Meg, she had begged him to drop it. Against his will, he let it drop.

But perhaps, if he hadn't, things might of turned out differently.


Saturday, two days after his birthday, started off a normal day. Castiel played some video games with Uriel while his mom and dad made lunch. Claire was visiting for the whole week for his birthday, but would be leaving for Vermont on Monday.

Around nine, long after Uriel had gone home, Castiel changed into his sleep pants and an old shirt. He walked down the hall of the old victorian they lived in and tossed his dirty clothes into the laundry chute. He knew his parents would be turning the news on soon, as they always did at nine, so he headed for the living room.

Before he got to the living room, his phone started ringing.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Cassie?" It was Meg. Castiel's eyebrows furrowed as he realized her voice was shaky and breathless, almost as if she had been crying. But he had never seen Meg cry.

"Meg?"

"I'm on my way to your house. Bad things are happening," she panted.

"Meg? What's going on?" he asked, clutching the phone tighter to his ear.

"Just turn on your damn T.V. and if you have a gun, get it."

"Meg!" But the line went dead. He ran into the living room. "Turn on the news!"

Amelia started to ask what was wrong, but Castiel grabbed the remote and flipped the T.V. on. He turned to a random news channel.

"-reaking news: a dangerous inmate has escaped from prison! Azazel Masters, forty-two, somehow managed to escape when the guard on duty left his post for a few minutes. The FBI had been called in and civilians are warned to be on the lookout. As mentioned earlier, Masters is very dangerous and should not be approached. He is believed to be armed. For those who are wondering who this man is, Masters had been convicted of robbing the bank of New Hampshire and wounding and killing officers in a gunfight. Masters had been caught when a hostage escaped and notified the police. Masters had been headed off as he tried leaving the bank with the money. He had been given a warning and told to stand down. Masters ignored the warning and opened fire, wounding three police officers and killing one. Masters was given fifteen years to life. That was nearly ten years ago. If you think you see Masters, repeat: do not approach! Notify your local police department and get somewhere safe instantly."

James eyebrows furrowed as they showed pictures of what Azazel looked like. Claire turned to Castiel and asked, "isn't Meg's last name Masters?"

Before he could answer, the front door opened and they heard someone running. Meg skidded into the room and looked around wildly. Castiel bit back a gasp as he took in her full appearance.

One of her eyes was swollen shut, her hair looked like it was matted with what looked like blood, her cheek had a long gash on it, and there were small burns on her arms from what looked like cigarettes.

"Did you get the gun?" she asked, wincing and resting a hand on her head.

"Meg? Are you in trouble?" James asked.

"No, not really. But you guys are. Azazel is my dad and he wants revenge."

"Why come here then? Why not tell the police?" Castiel asked.

"Because there is no time! He's almost here!" she screamed, wincing again.

"It's me, isn't it?" James asked. "I recognize him. I had forgotten about him, but i was the one who told the police that day."

"Yeah. That's why you guys have to go!" she yelled, shoving Castiel into motion.

Wasting no more time, he glanced around and quickly decided on the laundry chute. He used to hide there from Claire when they played hide-and-go-seek. He opened the door and climbed in, bracing his feet against the cold metal walls and gently lowering the door so it wouldn't make a loud noise. He could still hear everything that was going on.

"Claire, go!" Meg screamed. Then there was a new voice.

"Meg, Meg, Meg. Now I hope you weren't trying to help our little friends escape me," the cold voice tutted.

"Leave her alone!" James yelled. There was a sharp crack of skin on skin and a low thud. Meg cried out.

"See? You made me do that. Now, shut up and obey me or I do worse than just a slap." There was silence. "Wait. There should be a boy. Where's the boy?"

"There is no boy," Meg said.

"Shut up, bitch." That was Lilith. She was here too? "I know for a fact there is a boy. Skinny little bastard."

"He's gone." James said, pride in his voice. "He's long gone and he's probably already told the police you are here."

"Did he now? Well, then. Guess I better be quick about this then. You, search the house just in case."

"Why?" Lilith whined. "I'll miss the good part."

"Because there's a chance little daddy here is lying. Now, go!" Azazel snapped. Lilith huffed and Castiel heard footsteps. He quickly made his way down the chute and silently dropped onto the clothes he had thrown down earlier. Thinking quickly, he knew Lilith would never look in the washing machine. Thankfully, they had finished the laundry earlier, so it was empty as Castiel opened the lid and climbed in.

Lilith hadn't been lying when she said Castiel was skinny. He was also flexible, so he managed to make himself fit enough to close the lid. He quietly took out his phone and opened it, dialing the one number that could help him right now.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I know where Azazel Masters is," he breathed, giving his address.

"Have you seen him there?" the lady asked.

"He's here now. My family, he's got them. He's going to kill my dad. Maybe my whole family. I hid in the basement before he got here. Please. You have to send help now."

Just then, however, he heard a soft gunshot echo. "Oh, god! I just heard a gun go off! He's shot someone, I think!"

It took the operator nearly three minutes to calm him down to get the necessary information out of him.

"Castiel, calm down. I'm here. The police should be there any second now," the lady told him. "Where are you exactly?"

He didn't answer because he suddenly heard three more gunshots. "There's three more gunshots! That's four now! I only have three family members up there! I don't know what's going on!"

"Castiel, breathe. Come on, sweetie. Breathe with me." Castiel tried to follow her instructions. "The police are there now. It's going to be okay."

There were several more gunshots, then silence.

"I don't hear anything. I'm so scared," he whispered, his eyes clenched shut.

But then they flew open as he heard voices coming down the stairs. "There's someone in the basement," he breathed out.

"Can you hear what they are saying?"

He listened closely to the voices.

"You said basement, right, Crowley?" The voice was deep and mellow.

"Yes. Linda said that the boy told Stacy he was down here, but there aren't many places to hide." This one had a english accent.

"Is your name Stacy?" he asked the operator.

"Yes, did they use my name?" she asked.

"Yeah, and someone is named Crowley."

"It's okay then, Castiel. Crowley is one of the FBI agents assigned this case. You can hang up now."

He said bye to Stacy and hung up, taking a deep breath. He slowly opened the lid and peered out. Two men were standing there, looking around. They were wearing dark suits. One was tall and dark-skinned, the other was short and pale. He opened the lid further and stood up, catching their attention. The short one seemed impressed with his choice of hide-out.

"Castiel?" he asked.

"Yes. Is my family okay?" Castiel asked. The two agents looked at each other, then back to him.

"You better come with us, son," the tall one said.