"Sooner or later in life, what you love, you lose…"

MOST PEOPLE WOULD WISH, PRAY, FOR IT TO BE LATER. I WISH FOR IT TO BE SOONER. BECAUSE THE LESS YOU KNOW SOMETHING, THE LESS IT HURTS TO LOSE IT. I NEVER GET THAT WISH.

The woman's eyes were dark. Not just in colour; something sinister and confusing lurked in their depths. It made Dean shudder inwardly. "What's wrong with her?" he asked, his eyes narrowed as he watched her from the safety of the other room.

A thin wooden door kept them apart. When he had first captured her and brought her back for closer inspection into what she was, he had bound her to a chair in the centre of a Devil's Trap drawn with red paint. He had thought that she might have been a demon, though now it was obvious she wasn't.

She seemed completely unaffected by the sigil, and had managed to break free of the rope and was now prowling around the room, slamming into walls and screaming insanely.

"She's been infected," answered Castiel in his deep, gravelly voice. He was standing beside the Winchester, brow furrowed. His hands were shoved inside the pockets of his trenchcoat, while his full, cracked lips that looked as though he had just returned from years in the desert were parted slightly. Dean could just hear him breathing softly.

Dean glanced briefly at him with a roll of his eyes, but the Angel didn't seem to notice. He continued to focus on the woman on the other side of the door. "Care to clarify, professor?"

"With the Croatoan virus. I know from my superiors that you and your brother faced it a few years back. I've gathered Sam was infected then. Did he behave anything like this?" Now it was Cas' turn to look at Dean.

The taller man shook his head, eyes widened a little at the mention of the virus. He hadn't thought about it in years, simply assuming that had been the last case. "Nope. Sam was still trying to be a martyr."

Castiel didn't respond for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Then, finally, he announced, "We will have to kill her."

"I thought that a frigging Angel would have some fancy potion or something to cure her, not just wanna kill her!" He protested, turning on him.

"I think you have us confused with wizards,"

Dean glared at him. "Where the Hell did you learn sarcasm from? Last time I checked, you still had that stick stuck up your ass."

Cas squinted at him, tilting his head slightly to the side. "I spend a lot of time with you and your family, Dean. Your personality seems to be rubbing off on me. I thought that would please you."

The eldest Winchester's arms flailed hopelessly in the air. "Now's not the time, Cas." He locked eyes with him, emerald green meeting cerulean blue. "I just thought that since you can heal practically anything, even death, that you might be able to fix one little killer disease."

"The Croatoan virus is not a little disease,"

"You know, you may be able to use sarcasm, but you still don't get it," Dean rolled his eyes and turned back to the woman. "Is there really nothin' you can do?"

Castiel followed his gaze. "I'm sorry, Dean. The Croatoan virus is not something you can just recover from. Her brain is dead. The only thing keeping her alive is the infection."

Dean saw a glimmer of regret and sorrow pass over the Angel's face, but it quickly disappeared. He let out a sigh. "Fine," he muttered finally, then pointed at the table behind him without looking, "Pass me that gun, would you?"

With a small bob of his head, Cas walked over to the table and scooped the shotgun up in his hands. It was obvious he still didn't feel entirely comfortable around them. He walked back and handed Dean the gun.

Saying nothing, Dean took the gun, his fingers brushing briefly over Castiel's. He didn't notice. He slowly turned the metal door handle and pushed it open, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him with a click. He walked tentatively towards the woman, gun raised and ready to shoot.

Just then, her eyes flashed and she lunged at him with a scream. His finger pressed down on the trigger, but it just skimmed over her shoulder and ploughed into the wall behind her. This only made her madder, and she tackled him to the ground, blood seeping from her shoulder. He grunted and tried to smash the gun into her head, but she held down his arms, lips drawn back in a vicious snarl to reveal yellowed and bloody teeth.

Suddenly, she was on the other side of the room, sliding down the wall with a groan. Castiel stood protectively over Dean, hands balled into fists. He bent down and took the gun, not taking his eyes off the woman for a second. Then he raised it and fired. It let off a deafening bang, which hurt Dean's ears in the confined space, as it sped through the air. Blood and brains exploded as the bullet made contact with the woman's head, splattering against the white wall. Her body slumped to the ground and blood quickly began to pool around her motionless body.

There was silence for a few minutes, before Castiel looked down and offered Dean a hand. He took it after a second and got to his feet. His back hurt, but he didn't complain. "Thanks, Cas. I owe you one,"

Cas blinked and headed for the door, glancing over his shoulder to see if he was following. "Don't mention it. What are friends for?" He held the door open for the man. "But… she didn't bite or scratch you, right?"

Dean raised his arms to inspect himself, twisting to look at his back and gritting his teeth at the movement. Castiel narrowed his eyes but said nothing. "I don't think so," He said finally, shrugging and walking through the door. He collapsed onto a creaky chair with a loud sigh, prodding his spine with one hand.

Castiel followed. "Good. I couldn't bare it if I had to do the same to you," He gestured to the woman, still visible through the window on the closed door. Then he noticed how uncomfortable Dean looked. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine," he replied, "Landing on concrete at full speed kinda hurts a little, you know? Well, I mean, you wouldn't know, Iron Man. But it hurts us humans a Hell of a lot. Sorry if I don't seem that perky," He licked his lips and coughed a few times.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Nah. Let's just get out of here and I can find myself a nice little Asian masseuse. Maybe we can get you one that looks like Meg, huh?" He winked, laughing when Castiel met his eyes with a confused expression. Months had passed and he still derived amusement from the moment the Angel and the Demon had shared. "Oh, let's just get out of here, halo boy."