Black Winged Angel Tears

by Boogermeister

Destiel AU. Castiel Novak, a junkie who turned his back against the idea of "happy ending" as well as his faith, finds himself being protected by a tough but equally fragile cop when he witnesses a murder of his dealer by an infamous crime boss. While under protection, he discovers the cop Dean's hidden past an in turn learns how to cope with his own terrible but beautiful flaws.

Hello there, I'm writing my very first Supernatural fanfiction, now that I've watched all eight seasons and currently watching the latter half of the ninth one as well as the anime version! Yeah, that much!LOL But it's enough to create this good story while it's still fresh in my damn head!

Black Winged Angel Tears by Boogermeister

Chapter 1- Fallen From Grace

Breaths, slow and even, were right at the nape of his neck, as he stared tiredly at the crumbling wall. Through bleary yet bold, bright blue eyes, he could see on the hairline cracks on the pale cream surface. What was left of the drywall scattered across the worn wooden floor like crumpled styromfoam. The man, with his greasy black-brown hair tousled by his filthy pillow, didn't bother to move with the slim smooth arm curled around his waist. Unlike the calm even breaths behind him, his were rather swallow and haggard since he was awake.

When was the last time he had used...? He was very tired late last night after getting his fix, even more so after a brief hook-up with his dealer whose breathing changed into a slow sigh-like yawn. "... You counting the cracks on the walls as usual, Cas...?" came a tired murmur of the woman behind him.

"... No, just staring..." he muttered, his voice coming out soft but hoarse from lack of drinking enough water. It hurt his throat to speak but he didn't care. Not when he could wash it down with a quick swig of whiskey. The slim arm moved from his waist before his dealer sat up wearing just her lacey bra and underwear.

Her dark mahogany hair waved around her round face as her deep brown eyes gazed at the slouchful form of the man. She didn't seem to mind the sight of him wearing an old grey tank top stained with who knew what and worn out basketball shorts. She usually didn't sleep around with her clients, but 'Cas' was one exception with his drug-addled personality likened to a needy cat needed to be fed once in a while. She petted through his thick hair while he continued to stare at the wall.

"Are you gonna get up soon, or are you just gonna lay there with that comatose look on your face as usual? Either way, you gotta have some breakfast, Cas," she drawled quietly, her hand soon trailing around his jawline, where coarse whiskers were slowly growing back after having his face shaven a few weeks ago. Still, the man didn't move, not until the woman moved to straddle his waist.

Finally, his squinty blue eyes glanced away from the wall as he looked at her, just in time for her to capture his obviously dry lips for a kiss. The man just exhaled and let her do the work, feeling her tongue wiggling against his own. As always, he wondered why she doesn't mind the acrid aftertaste in his mouth from his bouts of drinking. But he wouldn't question it, since his dealer was the only woman who even bothered with him. After all, he had other ways to acquire money in order to score the drugs from her...

"Hmm... Please try to wash up, Castiel... I'm practically your pimp for nagging at you to look nice and clean for tonight," she sighed after breaking off the kiss.

"If... If I get enough money, then you'll give me more, right?" he mumbled, even with a sore throat he sounded mildly eager at the reward. His dealer simply smirked as she got off the bed. "Meg... is that a yes or what?"

"We'll see, if you can get a good sugar daddy who will bother to last long with you," she shrugged, putting on her clothes that was left on a flimsy table. "I only able to let you have only a few capsules the last time for free... but you know that the money's not for me, Cas. That fat leprechaun would instantly know that the samples are trickling away without profit."

"It's only a few pills-"

"Which is hard to get by without him or the police know about it," Meg pointed out. Putting up a leather biker jacket and boots, she walked to pet his head and smiled. "Just do what you need to do, my little unicorn, then you'll get your medicine, all right?"

"... All right, Meg, just promise me," muttered Castiel. "I'll get the money tonight..."

"That's a good boy..." Meg chuckled before walking away. "You know where to find me, Cas." Castiel heard the creaky sound of the door opening then closing and sighed, laying on the frumple mess of bedsheets for a few more minutes of silence. His dealer was right, he was hungry now that his mind was set on the promise tonight. Very slowly, he got up, groaning at the sudden light-headedness.

He was internally glad that this morning started as a cloudy day, but his vision blurred a little when he soon got to his feet. "Damn it..." he winced, rubbing his forehead. He could feel the withdrawal symptoms slowly seeping in, but he shook it off, shuffling toward the small bathroom. The first thing he grabbed while steppping in was a small half-empty bottle of cheap vodka on the sink.

It was bland in taste but it was better than nothing to curb down his needs as he took few long sips. That was already gone on the third sip and he frowned at that, before taking off his clothes and stepping into his tiny dingy shower. It was nothing but lukewarm water spraying half-assed over his body. Castiel just stood underneath it in a daze, the water trickling over his pale sullen skin for a moment before grasping for the gritty bar of soap. The sooner he cleans up, the better.

First things first, he needed to speak to Balthazar to borrow some money. And to do that... he had to do a favor for him, and that would be bothersome.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Grabbing ahold of the running purse snatcher, a plain-clothed officer grunted and flipped him over his shoulder with such ease. A sense of andrenaline was pumping in his body, as he pinned the robber down and twisted his arms behind his back. "Very smart... snatching some mom's purse right out in the open to see your stupid ass..." he gritted, pulling out a pair of handcuffs from the back of his jeans.

"Guh...! You asshole-" winced the robber before the cop pressed his knees against his back. Among the stunned bystanders witnessing the ordeal, a couple of security guards from a nearby store rushed to see what was happening. But the man was quick to branish his badge at them.

"It's okay, I got this...!" he huffed, standing up as he hauled the robber to his feet. "But... if you can call up someone nearby, that would be nice."

"Uh, right, sir," nodded the guards as one ran off to make the call.

"And you, asshole... will share a cell with four other fuckers for a while, all just for a purse filled with receipts and old candies," he scoffed at the criminal, his light green eyes narrowed with annoyance.

"Tch, fuck you- oww!" winced the criminal when the cop twisted his wrists.

"Just my day..." he scoffed, before picking up the small bag. "Here, sorry about the strap," he offered when he handed it over to the flustered woman.

"Y-yes! Thank you, Officer..." she nodded.

"Just call me Winchester, Ma'am... I'm a lieutenant," he replied with a brief smirk. "If you need to press charge, you can come to the station later today to do so."

"Oh, sure, I will," the supposed victim smiled. She was obviously taking in the appearance of the man's looks likened to a fashion model, from his perfectly straight nose to his sharp jawline to his dark golden-brown hair style in a crew cut fashion. The man merely shrugged, he had been used to being perceived like that, considering that the majority of the police force were middle-aged and/or overweight. At least he took to heart with his training years ago and still was in great shape.

"Go to know..." he nodded before a police car strolled by to a stop. "All right, this dickweed is all yours... I'll see you guys back in the station," he nodded, as his subordinates took the criminal into the back seat.

"Will do, sir." The liuetenant simply waved at the vehicle before walking away, disregarding the awe glances of his brief heroism. He was so used to it, being praised when it was simply his job to knock around bad guys. Not that he was being prideful about it. He jogged back the route to his home, when his cellphone rang in his jacket pocket.

"Geez... yeah?" he answered after taking it out.

"You at work, Dean?"

"Uh, what happens to 'Good Morning', bitch?" smirked Dean.

"Yeah, Good Morning, Dean..." muttered another man on the line. "I thought you'd be at work already."

"Not yet, I got the afternoon shift and going throught the night," he replied. "Why do you asked?"

"Damn, I was hoping that we could hang out tonight, it's the weekend..."

"I know that, it's just that dumbasses use this day to get smashed and get into trouble," sighed Dean. "You know how it is, I can't really get out of it. Maybe tomorrow night...?"

"Uh, sorry... I'm swamped with paperwork and everything."

"Tch, being a lawyer can do that to you. You're a rookie still? I thought you would get a client as soon as you graduate."

"Yeah, it's no different as being an intern, Dean... Let me know when you have free time, okay, Bro?"

"Sure thing, Sammy," he smirked lightly. "Talk to you later."

"Okay, Dean..." Dean hang up in time to stop in front of four-storied apartment building that used to be an old factory. Taking out his keys, he opened the front door and jogged three flights before walking through the short hallway to his own door. It was a large studio-style apartment, spacious enough to not feel cluttered as he walked past his kitchen and crossed the living room area for his bedroom. As soon as he got in, he quickly peeled off his clothing with his cotton boxers left on. It would be a busy night tonight, he knew that the weekends were the most difficult considering that even the most mild-mannered cilivian could be soliciting illegal manners within the inner city of Lawrence.

He stepped out of the bedroom to go into bathroom next to it. The bathtub was somewhat old and vintage-looking but he didn't mind as he finally took off his underwear and stepped in. As he fixed the faucet to put on the shower, his thin necklace shifted around his neck. He had forgotten to take it off, yet he didn't want to lest he forget to put it on afterwards. It wasn't that special to anybody else, a simple silver chain with a tiny charm carved like a tiki mask. But it was a gift to him years ago by his little brother Sam. It was one of the very few heirlooms he had cherished since his childhood.

It wasn't that he had a terrible life growing up, but he had to grow up fast since he was four and his brother Sam not even a year old, when his mother was murdered one night on the way home. She was the vitcim of the infamous serial killer named 'Yellow Eyes' back then, leaving her young children to be raised by his father John. Like Dean now, John had just started as a liuetenant when the tragedy happened and tried any way he can to find the killer for years.

But overworking caused a neglect on the young kids, with Dean looking after his baby brother and waited for his father to come home even past his own bedtime. Even with the help of his godfather, the older boy had often gotten into mischief, almost sent into juvie for sneaking into someone else's house. It was only Sammy- his nickname for his younger brother- changed his way one Christmas Eve.

Sam was eight, him twelve going on thirteen, when the younger Winchester gave him a small present poorly wrapped in old newspaper. It was this necklace he was wearing, though the original leather string broke off after high school, but he loved it nonetheless. From then on, he tried to go on the straight line, trying everything he can to live a good life by training to become an auto mechanic at first. But when he saw an old lady being jumped by hooligans one day, he sprung into action and saved her.

Again his life changed, finding himself applying for the police force soon after that event, as Dean remembered when he scrubbed his hair under the spraying hot water. He was barely twenty, eager yet willing to listen, while his father's co-workers expected much of him. And he had exceeded those expectations and more, all the while looking after his straight-A brother.

Even all of that... John rarely praised him for his work, however. Despite reassurance from the other cops, Dean couldn't help but feel a sense of abhorrence toward his own father, seeing only that the tragedy of his mother's death took over their lives. As he sighed, he washed the soapy suds over his firm tone body, with water washing down his chest and six-packed abs.

Only his godfather and Sammy were his only family left, he thought about it briefly... now that John was gone. After a moment of rinsing, Dean took off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel to dry himself off. His shift will start in the next hour, and he groaned at that. He won't be able to go to sleep until four in the morning, he guessed.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

He managed to find a clean T-shirt, at least clean enough as to not having so much visible stains since it was a dark burgundy color. Not that it mattered to Castiel, when some nameless guy was simply gonna rip it off from him during the rough sex. However, his jeans had seen better days with numerous tears and grass stains- the latter he had gained from his random trysts in the city parks. He really didn't care how he was manhandled by the likes of them, as long as he gets his money.

He scratched his chin, still covered with stubbles, as he moved around the small one-room apartment for his sneakers. The place had seen better days, littered with fast food wrappers and empty liquor bottles. Since evening had started already started, he blinked around the dark area, he lacked electricity since he doesn't pay the utilities. Usually Balthazar would be in charge of it, with Castiel giving him something else in return.

Speaking of which, that Britton should be at the club tonight, he was mentioned that he would be there as promised. By having him there, it would mean that Castiel could get his drugs faster. He wished he could talk to Meg over it, but since he didn't have any phone, he would have to find her.

"Damn..." he muttered gruffly. Grabbing his denim jacket, he put it on and left the apartment. It was one of the very few poor neighborhoods in the city, yet it didn't look so shoddy compared to the worse slums in the bigger cities. Still, living in the crumbling apartment building was a far cry from his middle-class upbringing, a few states away in Pontiac, Illinois.

He had traded in a warm suburban house for a cold dilapidated room, home-cooked meals for week-old fries he could barely stomach without vomiting during times of withdrawals. Love and comfort of a family... for becoming a black sheep the moment he started on prescription drugs as a teenager. He was still alive after all these years, it was interesting that he hadn't constantly overdosed from all this time, considering the consumption of alcohol he would take alongside his 'medicines'.

Walking down a few blocks, Castiel tiredly strolled to the bus stop, with assortments of change in his pockets. His destination was pretty far away, he would still have to walk after getting off. Getting back home was the least of his worries. Maybe he could ask Meg to crash for the night, if she wasn't busy. The bus came a moment later, and he got on and paid the fare, hobbling to the back seats. The passengers were either oblivious or wary to his shabby appearance, but he didn't care. His unblinking blue eyes simply stared ahead once the transportation drove off.

A child briefly caught his attention, staring at him with slight curiosity. But Castiel merely looked away, he would rather be ignored, unseen by them. That would be fine by him as long as he would get his fix. But the instant he thought about it, one of his legs started to shake. He needed to last a few more hours, that's all. Several stops later, Castiel stood up and got off the bus, seeing that the trip lasted longer than usual now that it was completely dark with the street lights starting to come on.

"... Oh, there you are, Unicorn." Castiel blinked at the new voice before he turned to see Meg standing nearby.

"You were waiting..." he muttered, walking up to her.

"I knew you were about to come, Cas, I've only waited for about ten minutes," she smiled with darkly painted lips. "Are you feeling all right? It looks like you're having a cold or something."

"You know why, Meg... Do you have it with you?" he muttered with slight irritation.

"There's no need to feel hostile," she playfully chastised him with a pat on his shoulder. "Just hold it in, Cas. Remember the last time you've gotten impatient...? I damn near blew half your head off, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yeah, that was very... unpleasant..." Both of them strolled through the streets, passing by empty lots then alleyways, ignoring the bums sleeping on the dirty streets. Castiel breathed heavily and cleared his throat, he must concentrate on his goal so his dealer can give him the drugs. He remembered how it all started, when he was about fifteen years old...

He was already drifting away when he decided to experiment on the first drugs- vicodin- after his twin brother Jimmy was injured on a bicycle accident. He only did it to see if it would make him sleep, to make him feel better yet numb to world at the same time. He would slip a pill every time he gave another to his only sibling, mentioning that his doctor should prescribe it more to him once it was gone. Being twins, Jimmy should have known what was going on with Castiel, yet probably dismissed it and hoped to his 'god' that it wasn't true.

Snifling dryly, the junkie frowned at his memory. He couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to Jimmy. He had lost count on the days, weeks, months... His brother probably thought of him dead since he didn't bother to find him. It was probably better that way... He was always inferior to his slightly older brother for as long as he can remember. Even in their childhood house where it was a Christian house, Jimmy always clinged onto the brighter things in life while Castiel was constantly pessimistic. But he wasn't like that at first...

The sounds of excited chattering and vehicles driving around caught his ears, now that he and Meg had reached the entertainment district. Stepping out onto the glow of bright street lamps, he looked around and saw the dim reddish glow of the fluorenscent banner across the street.

Neveah, the name of the nightclub where he was going to meet his own client. "How long are you going to wait for me, Meg?" he asked as they crossed the street.

"Depends, how fast can you get the money, Cas?" shrugged the brunette. "You're not exactly 'skillful' with your occupation, I should say. I mean, you often just lay there."

"I've heard no complaints from you," he deadpanned at her but Meg simply smiled.

"For a druggie, you're very placid. Most would be rabid with withdrawal rage, I should say," she remarked. Hooking an arm around his, she led him to the alleyway behind the nightclub. They then turned a corner, before Meg stepped forward to see the back door heavily locked. "Come on, we're here..." she sighed. Within seconds, the door opened by a security guard as Meg grinned in greeting. "Hey there..."

"You're having any clients here, Meg?" questioned the guard.

"You know Cas," she replied with a nod at the frowning man. "But... is his Sugar Daddy in? He got an errand to run before he can come to me." The guard merely nodded and stepped aside, as Meg and Cas stepped in. The man instantly tuned out the loud thumping throb of EDM that he could feel both in the air and on the polished wooden floor. The air was hazy with smoke from cigarette and weed, with plenty of patrons dancing in euphoria on the dance floor.

Neveah was big on the inside, with the bar on the one end of the wall and booths and tables ecasing the entire club. Wearing ratty clothes made him out of place, but again it wasn't really Castiel's concerns as he shrugged off his jacket. "I'll find him, Meg... I'll let you know when I'm done!" he shouted over the music.

"That's good to know...!" Meg moved to give him a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll be waiting by the bar... I hope you get enough!" She walked away to go to one side, while Castiel slowly paced around the edge of the dancefloor. If he had shaven today, he would have looked younger than his true age, but his own patron was over a decade older than him and he was somewhere among the crowd.

Balthazar was a good businessman outside of this world, merely nothing but an interesting foreigner in this town who had settled here a while back. Which was why nobody seemed to mind of the sharply dressed Brittish man sitting alone in one empty booth in such a crowded place. "There you are..." muttered Castiel, his gruff voice drowned out by the throbbing dubstep beats. The tall flaxen-haired man had already noticed him walking up to him.

"Cassie, there you are...!" grinned Balthazar as the other man move to sit next to him. "Ah, you forgot to shave this morning! Did you misplace your razor or something?" he pointed out. Castiel exhaled when the older man gripped his scruffy chin, but he could feel his heart thumping a bit faster as he stared at his greyish-blue eyes.

"... Yeah, I forgot," he merely replied. Balthazar just grinned, nobody seemed to care when he leaned down to kiss him. His own whiskers scratched against the junkie's face as Castiel allowed him to go deeper, tasting a hint of whiskey on the wet tongue. Then again, he actually enjoyed this kiss from this man. Aside from Meg, this Britton didn't mind being with someone like him.

"Tell me, what brings you here, Cassie...!" he asked, his light accent evident despite of the loud music. Castiel didn't need to answer, not when his hand had already settled over his clothed crotch. He then moved to straddle over his lap as he kissed the older man. His heart beating faster, the irritation of the withdrawal symptoms was overtaken with growing urges, when he kissed against light blond beard.

"I've ran out of money... I need some more," he replied almost eagerly, though it was hard to tell with the blank serious look on his face. Balthazar merely chuckled, as if he was looking at a child begging for candy.

"How did that happen? I've given you enough last month," he grinned. "Don't tell me you wasted it with that girl. What's her name, Meg...?" Castiel frowned, his blue eyes squinted through the hazy air as he glanced at the other end of the club.

"It's... the only way I can feel better," he frowned.

"Then what makes me, Cassie?" he questioned, and the junkie looked back at him. "What can you do to in order to get that extra money, huh...?" The smug look on Balthazar's face was enough for Castiel, who simply nodded.

"All right... What do you want me to do...?"

Meanwhile, even with all the dancing patrons, Meg observed the exchange between her client and his man, seeing them making out some more before Castiel slid off his lap and disappearing underneath the table. She merely rolled her eyes at that, she shouldn't be surprised that most drug addicts would be willing to do anything to get what they want. But Castiel didn't seem to mind at all, he was like an emotionless robot that bends of a whim of its master.

Turning back to the bar, she went back to her drink. Why did she have a soft spot for Castiel in the first place, she couldn't really recall. She knew it started a few years back, when she came across him one night. Castiel was slumped against the dirty wall of an alleyway, breathing haggardly with his pants down just after a random encounter with some faceless john. Normally, she would dismiss the sight of such a person and keep on moving, but seeing that the man was paid abysmally for selling his body, she decided to have him around.

That was when she found out the reason he was doing it, the hard way at that when she discovered him attempting to steal a stash of methamphetamine and she shot at him. Soon after that, Castiel instantly became docile to her like a stray puppy wanting to be adopted and the rest was history. Nursing a bottle of beer, her dark brown eyes caught the sight of a blond woman sauntering up to her.

She knew who it was and frowned in surprise, wondering why she was here. "Meg, nice to see you here...!" she grinned and Meg frowned.

"Lilith..." she grumbled with a shrug of her shoulder. "What brings you here, thought you would be out of town."

"I was, and now I'm here." Flipping back her wavy hair, Lilith glanced at her with a mischievious smirk on her face. "... How's business, Meg? You've been working hard?"

"What's all this about...? You think I've been lagging behind or something?" she questioned her.

"No need to feel defensive about it... It's just that, well, your profits from last month does seem to be a little low," she replied and Meg pursed her lips at that.

"Not eveybody's buying it like it's frigging hot cakes, what would you expect?" she scoffed. "If this place was like New York or Detroit, my profits would have been bigger... instead, we're stuck on this boring town."

"That much is true, but it doesn't give you an excuse about your work," smiled Lilith as she looked around. "... Where's your little pet?"

"What Cas is doing is none of your business, bitch," she frowned. "Just because I got a favorite customer, it doesn't mean that you should care about what I do with him."

"Yeah, fucking an addict with your supplies nearby is really smart. Is that part of the reason why your last month's profit is low?"

"Quit accusing me of that bullshit, Lilith," scoffed Meg. "Cas knows better than to mess with my stuff. I already told you that not much people are buying them."

"Then skip to another town to earn some money, Meg, it's not that hard," Lilith muttered. "But then again... you wanna be close by to your junkie boytoy. I've never thought you to be a softie on that guy."

"I'm not-"

"Just that you know, our boss doesn't have a clue that you're sleeping with your client," she pointed out. "But who knows what could happen to him if he were to know." Meg's frown deepened at that, seeing if it was a bluff coming from this woman. But Lilith was just as shady as her so it was hard to tell. "... Well, maybe you can make it up by selling more. Take my advice and do it in another town, Meg. Unless you got... another plan."

"... I got it handled, okay?" frowned Meg, glaring at her. "Just tell that damn leprechaun I can make it up to him."

"Well, that's good to know..." With that, Lilith walked away, while Meg turned back to her attention toward that one booth. Already, Castiel crawled from underneath the table and drank down a full cup of whiskey to rid off the taste of the aftermath. The first part of the deed was done, though he gave off a thousand-yard stare while Balthazar murmured something in his ear. The junkie didn't reply, as he drank another cup.

He was probably trying to get drunk enough to make his body comply, Meg noted. It wasn't long until after the third or fourth drink until Castiel finally got up. Under the foggy light, he was flushed from the alcohol before his man got up as well and led him through the crowd. Either the restroom or the back alley, it wouldn't matter.

Meg guessed the former, seeing them walking to the different direction. "Cas is working fast..." she murmured to herself. But before she can take another sip of beer, a loud clamoring caught her attention. "What now?" she frowned. Almost instantly, the loud music stopped followed by more clamoring.

"This is the police...! Everybody, don't move...!"

"Oh shit..." she scoffed in disbelief. She should have expected that, Neveah was constantly raided for signs of drug use and sex solicitation. Luckily, she was smart enough not to bring her own supply here, as she was going to take Castiel to her place for the exchange. But it seemed that her client would luck out tonight, much to her annoyance.

"You there, are you harbor anything illegal on you...?" one officer questioned as he came up to her.

"Does it look like I can, sweet thing?" she sighed with a raised eyebrow.

"How about we take you to the station and find out, Ma'am?" he frowned and Meg simply smirked at that.

"Well, since you ask nicely..."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Swallowing dryly, Castiel frowned in deep resentment. He was so close, he wanted to get the money so the aches would stop be it physical or psychological. But no... the police raid had to happen the moment he and his man went to a stall for the second part of the deal. Being caught with his pants down was an understament, after the cops cuffed him and hauled him to the station. Of course he had to sit in jail for the night since he couldn't afford bail.

Balthazar wasn't charged for soliciting prostitution, obviously since he got the charm and influence on the police. But with someone like him, it was, what- the fourth, fifth time he had gotten arrested for selling himself...? He couldn't remember for the moment, not when he sat slouchfully on the cell cot. His unblinking stare was on the concrete floor as he methodically scratched through his hair.

His pale skin felt itchy, hunger was evident by his growling stomach despite the urge to vomit, but as usual he can only care about his next fix. He didn't see Meg when he was taken into custody, maybe he can talk to her into giving him at least a pill or two. He doesn't want to go to any other dealer, just her since she was the only one who even bothered with him.

"Mister Novak...?"

Castiel didn't respond when the cell opened and one of the low-end cops stepped in. He knew the routine, he would be appointed for a court appearance sometime soon after getting his informations on file. But since he was arrested before, the process would be quick.

"Castiel Novak... Come on, it's time to go," the cop called out. With a huff, Castiel finally stood up, his arm gripped by the uniformed man as he was led down the hallway. They stepped into the office area where there were more officers moving around. He never wondered why the station was so busy in the morning, but as usual he didn't really care as he was plopped by a empty desk close to another office. "Wait here, someone will be with you shortly."

"..." Castiel just shrugged, already zoning out the enviroment as he rubbed his dry calloused hands together. Sooner he can get this over with, the faster he can find Meg.

"... Hello, Mister... Castiel Novak, right?"

A new voice rang into his ears and he blinked. It sounded new to him, a husky calm voice that was still youthful... Castiel, briefly shaking out his aches, looked up to see a young man in full-out navy blue uniform flipping through a folder. At least he looked young, he believed, probably in his late twenties but he wouldn't know as the officer moved to sit behind his desk. The junkie's squinty eyes glanced at him then at the little sign on his desk.

'Lt. Dean Winchester'

Strange, he had never bothered to learn the name of a cop. But he had never seen this one before, as Lt. Winchester scrutinized at the file report. "Uhh... you got arrested for attempting to commit prostitution at that nightclub. Neveah or something," he muttered with shrug.

"... Something like that," Castiel spoke quietly with his raspy voice. The officer glanced at him with a confused frown, he expected for him to deny an accusation like that. It was rare for a man to act like 'hookers', usually the police would come across transgendered ones that dared to solicit that crime but even that was unheard of in this town.

"So you're admitting it," he stated.

"Why wouldn't I? It's not like I'm hurting anybody by it..." frowned Castiel.

"Regardless, Mister Novak-"

"Don't call me that," he grumbled and the liuetenant blinked at that. "You're addressing me as if I got a good job or something. There's no point of using my last name."

"Oh, fine then..." he shook his head. "Mister Castiel... regardless, prostitution is still a crime and we'll have to charge you for it. This is your third arrest, so we're gonna give you a court date later on since you can't afford a fine."

"Of course I can't, that was the reason I was selling my body in the first place," muttered Castiel and the cop raised an eyebrow at his remark.

"If you don't want any more trouble, then I suggest you change your attitude," he stated firmly, his light green eyes narrowed at him. "By looks of it, Mister Novak," he continued much to the junkie's disgruntlement, "you're unemployed for who knows how long, you're 32 years old, and..." He flipped through the file once more and frowned. "It is mentioned here that you were once in possession of illegal drugs on one arrest. Care to tell me why...?"

"... Prescription drugs can't be illegal, Liuetenant," Castiel frowned deeply.

"It is when it's not prescribed to you, especially since you were carrying it in a sandwich baggie," sighed the cop. Castiel observed that he was tired when the other rubbed his eyes and let out a deep yawn. "You should be lucky that it wasn't enough to charge you on that when it was only one pill... Care to tell me how you gotten ahold of it last time?"

"I can't recall, the drugs screwed up my mind enough not to tell you," came his monotone yet snarky reply. Being sleep deprived, the liuetenant scoffed in annoyance and shook his head.

"It's morning... I'm on thin ice right about now," he grumbled. "I'm giving you a chance right now. If you wanna go and fuck up what little freedom you have then that's fine by me."

"Fine..." he nodded. That was what he was to them, just another repeated offender to lock up on the behalf of the taxpayers' money. "Let me have my date so I can get out of your hair..."

"Tch... just sit there, all right? I'll get the paperworks," the liuetenant sighed tiredly as he gotten up. Castiel's gaze didn't follow him going somewhere else. His throat felt so dry, he wanted something to drink but he didn't want to bother any of the cops. They had better things to do than to give someone like him some water. He tuned out the noises for a while, it wasn't long until the tired liuetenant came back and placed the paperworks in front of him. "Just sign here and you're free to go, Mister Novak..." he instructed.

"That's good to know..." he frowned. He was given a pen and he sloppily jotted down his signature. "May I leave now, Liuetenant...?"

"Sure, take that with you. You're due in court in the next couple of weeks," the cop mentioned. "I'm sure you were read your rights, as a lawyer would be appointed to you. I'll be hearing from you, Mister Novak..."

"I'm sure you would like that..." Castiel muttered to himself, grabbing the documents as he got up to leave. "Take care, Mister Liuetenant..."

"Hmm...?" Dean looked up to see the man walking away. That one was something... his honesty was somewhat crude to the point. He wondered why he had never heard of this offender before, he had never even seen him prior to this event. Then again, he had always have a hard time remembering criminals let alone his own co-workers. Sitting back down by his desk, he glanced over the file he was given.

Castiel Novak... he wasn't a born and bred local. According to the reports, he was from some little town in Illinois, before coming here in Lawrence some years back. But it had been mentioned that he had prior arrests before coming to Kansas, starting from his home state and in couple other states. Just minor stuff like petty theft and such, but for some reason this man didn't exactly look much of a threat to the public. He did say that his actions doesn't hurt anybody, but it doesn't justify that he was breaking the law either way.

"Fucking hell..." he tiredly groaned as he rubbed his forehead before the squeaky sounds of a rolling chair coming by.

"I know, long night," chimed a youthful voice. Dean glanced up to see his co-worker. He was just as old as him, yet appeared as a gawky teenage boy with a goofy grin on his face. "Everything's almost done, Dean, you'll get to go home soon," he smiled.

"You know, you're too damn happy for someone who had the same shift as me, Garth..." he frowned at him.

"Yeah, that's part of the sleep deprivation, it affects people differently," nodded Garth. "Whatcha got there, Dean?"

"Oh... some guy giving up his ass in a nightclub bathroom," muttered Dean. "You ever heard of this guy- Castiel Novak?"

"I don't think so," shrugged Garth. "Is it that bad, him being a repeated offender or something?"

"Well, something like that... He was caught with a well-known businessman but that guy simply shrugged it off and the charges on him dropped," he sighed. "This really sucks, you know? Got promoted a few months ago and I still get the crappy stuff."

"Well, it's not like we're living on the fast track. This ain't like LAPD or Law and Order, you know," his co-worker joked, swinging in his chair. Dean had to chuckle at that, he had wanted to have more of the excitement of being a cop but even the slow days with little or no crimes happening were just as good. "Got anything to do tonight, Dean...?" asked Garth.

"Besides sleeping in and eating leftover IHOP food? I don't know, I might catch up on my favorite shows," Dean sighed tiredly. "That is, if you guys don't call me up if some dumb shit is happening."

"Well, you never know," Garth shrugged before rolling away but not before crashing into a nearby trash bin. "Oops, I'm okay...!" Dean glanced over to see him on the floor with balled up papers around him. It was amazing that his co-worker was actually the deputy chief of this station, making the fool his superior in a way.

"Fucking dumbass..."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Knocking heavily on the locked apartment door, Castiel breathed as he waited for Meg to answer. He felt clammy and ill, not wanting to give in on his withdrawal sickness. It should be a bad idea to come here like this; the temptation was so close to reach within his grasp but he must resist it. "Damn it, Meg..." he grumbled as he knocked again.

A few moments later, the door finally opened to see his dealer. It was still morning, as Meg was dressed only in an overlarge tank top and underwear but she didn't appear that she had gotten out of bed as she smiled lightly. "I expected you to be here, but not this early," she remarked as she stepped back to let him in.

"Sorry..." croaked Castiel, stepping into the well-furnished living room. "Sorry, I... do not have the money, the cops arrested me for whoring myself last night." The bold blue eyes darting around for any evidence of her supply, but he knew plenty of them were hidden in her bedroom somewhere as he turned to her. "Please, Meg-"

"I know what I said, Cas, I cannot give you the goods until you have the money," she sighed as she moved to sit down on the brown leather couch.

"Then something else... It can be anything, but please... I just need it," frowned Castiel. "You know that I'm sick, Meg, and..." His throat tightened up and he groaned. Meg didn't bother to lead him to the kitchen, as he went to the sink and gulped down the cool water after turning on the faucet. It settled down his throat and stomach, but he still wanted to get what he needs. "... I want it, Meg, please..." he rasped as he looked back at her.

"Hell, you won't back down, would you?" frowned Meg and got up. "Let's see... I could give you the ones not on the market out there, if you're all right with it."

"Like what? What kind of drugs you got...?" muttered Castiel.

"Not pills, per se, but it's like cough medicine and it's pretty strong," she replied. "You have to dillute it enough not to black out into a coma, though..."

"Oh... As long as it's not a needle or anything," he muttered. He went back to drinking the water while the dealer disappeared to her bedroom, his thirst finally settled but now he was hungry. But maybe he would feel better once he tries this cough medicine.

"Here... all the little kids are drinking these at raves and such," nodded Meg as she came back out, holding a bottle of presciption liquid. Castiel watched her grabbing a glass then going to the fridge. "You don't mind seltzer and ice in it, Cas?"

"Doesn't matter..." he shook his head. He watched her pour the viscous medicine into the cup, the dark purple matter swirling into the bubbling water before Meg passed him the drink. "... Thank you, Meg," he muttered.

"You know, for a drug addict, you're very polite when needed to be," Meg smiled at him.

"Yeah, right..." Castiel drank the bittersweet concotion almost greedily. It seemed to be working already since he had an empty stomach, his body reacting to the effects as it would had he ingested pills. "... More," he sighed deeply, shaking the ice-filled glass.

"Slow down, cowboy, you gotta let it settle in your system before I can give you more," shrugged Meg before going up to him. "So... what do you wanna do next, take a shower or a nap or what?"

"... I didn't sleep much at the jail cell," he replied with a sluggish shake of his head, now that the side-effects of the cough syrup were taking over him.

"Okay, big boy, tell you what... sleep it off for now and try your luck again tonight," she suggested. "Then you can get the pills. Is that all right with you, Cas?"

"Yeah... that sounds better," he sighed. He staggered a little for the couch and laid down in a slump, his eyes blank on the stare at the ceiling before his dealer came into view.

"I thought you wanna go on my bed."

"Too far..." he muttered tiredly. Meg merely smiled, before moving to undo his jeans. The junkie offered little assistance to shrug off the article, leaving only his boxers on before he was straddled on. "I'm too tired, Meg..." he mumbled.

"No kidding, your little soldier's not even standing up," sighed Meg. "Oh well... As long as you stay outta trouble, I'll leave you here as I get some shit done." Castiel was about to doze off anyway, but nodded as her dealer got off him and walked away to get ready for the day. He knew the routine of her locking up her bedroom to keep him out. As he closed his eyes, his mind wandered to that cop this morning. They were usually faceless nobodies to him, but that one stood out for some reason. Either it was the narrowed green eyes or the firm husky tone of his voice, he doesn't know or really care.

He had never seen him before, even though he was a liuetenant. And maybe he won't see him again, at least not unless he gets caught tonight.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""'

Sitting down on his fancy ergonomic chair, a stocky man in a jet-black business suit merely sighed as he poured a well-aged whiskey into a small ice-filled glass. He was in a nice pristine office, decorated with deep red mahogany and onyx colors, making the room bold by the filtering sunlight from the windows taking up an entire wall behind him. It was a good afternoon, his sanitation company running smoothly as it should be.

But there was a different matter of sort, regarding his other business... one of his workers hadn't been doing a very good job lately. He had been told that she had been lagging behind in the recent months, yet he wasn't sure why he wasn't told about it straight from her. Meg had always been trouble from the start, though he had kept her around because he found her amusing. But now... her profits had been dwindling and dwindling, despite of the same amount of supply she was given like the other workers.

Something wasn't right... he would believe that she couldn't sell that much due to police constantly sniffing around. But it didn't make any sense either way. "Mr. Crowley..." He looked up to see the door opening and his secretary stepped in. "Everything's done for the day, is there anything else you need...?"

"Well... I don't really know..." he muttered, his gruff Scottish tone rumbling out as he shrugged. "Am I free tonight, though?"

"Yes, sir." Crowley merely shrugged, swirling around his cup before taking a sip. He had nothing to do tonight... meaning that he could talk to his other workers about what they had done lately. And he should speak to Meg about her work after all... He made a slight face after taking another sip, but he didn't mind the burning aftertaste of it.

"Well... I might make a little trip to town, I might have to have a little meeting with my fellow employees," he replied with a slight smirk. He knew that he wouldn't find Meg so easily, unless one of his loyal workers can provide more informations on her. That way, there was no way she could avoid him.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

What time was it...? It was long past sunset, probably nine o'clock at least, as Castiel wandered through the nearly empty park. After waking up from his long needed nap in his dealer's home, he was left alone with a note on him, with Meg provided him her whereabouts after he's done with his own matter. She didn't mind of him eating out her leftovers in the fridge, but hunger soon gave way to his urge for pills and he left the apartment.

It was a clear chilly night, his bare arms shivering with goosebumps since he lost his jacket during the nightclub raid as he vainly rubbed over them. According to the signs near the entrance of the park, it should be closed by now. But Castiel knew of those straying behind with the men who didn't want to get caught behind the trees. Walking down the path, he caught a sight of someone he knew.

A young petite woman with bold red hair framing limply around her pale face, her clothes baggy since she hadn't bothered to eat much, like how Castiel didn't bother with his own hunger with the addiction on him being so strong on a daily basis. "... Hey there, Cas..." sighed the woman when he came by.

"Anna..." he nodded in greeting, seeing that her cheeks were sunken from lack of nutrition. "You're feeling okay? Your teeth are still hurting, huh...?"

"Not now," she shook her head with a brief smile, showing a couple of back teeth missing.

"It's easier if you don't take meth as much... Smoking or injecting it doesn't fare much for me," muttered Castiel, as they strolled down a hill.

"Why not? The high gets to you faster, Cas... it's not like you're missing out on it," she replied quietly.

"I don't know... Meg likes me better if I don't use it, something about the 'meth-heads' looking like zombies." Anna gave off a distorted but humorless laughter, usual for someone who had been sucked into the bad part of drugs.

"Your girlfriend's very demanding..." she grumbled, her mood shifted as she pouted. "I wish I was lucky to be that close... You think you can share with me when you get something from her?"

"I'm not sure, I need some about as much as you do," Castiel frowned bitterly. He knew Anna, but he wasn't sure to see her as a friend. The last time they had talked, she threatened to cut him with a piece of broken glass during her withdrawal rage and stayed away from her for weeks. Seeing her broken now made her placid, but Castiel didn't trust her on that. "... See you later, Anna, I'll see what I can do..." he sighed heavily before walking away.

"Oh, all right..." The junkie didn't wish to look at her forlorn face as he walked through the bushes. The park was large and forest-like, no one would be able to see him searching for someone who would bother being with him. These johns were often on the better side of the track, plenty of them were good husband and fathers, hanging out with their friends at a bar watching sports. Nobody knew what they do here after dark, screwing with someone who was willing to take it for the money.

That was what exactly Castiel was doing, when he finally found an older gentleman sitting on a park bench smoking. He recognized him as one of his regulars, as he strolled up to him and cleared his throat. "Are... are you interested tonight?" he asked quietly, rubbing his cold arms once he caught the gentleman's attention.

"That depends... How much are you willing to do for, what, 20 bucks?" questioned the man. Castiel frowned. Twenty dollars wasn't enough... he needed at least eighty to get through the next day, and then he would start over again. But beggars couldn't be chooser for the moment, as he nodded in submission.

"I just got here... I haven't been used yet, you're the first one tonight," he muttered. "You can have me in any way you want..." The older man stood up, the smoke of cigarette was blown in Castiel's face but the junkie didn't mind. He had already gave up his self-worth a long time ago... His wrist was roughly grabbed before he was pulled toward a large set of bushes. The park was in complete silence, but he learned not to make such noises in places like these.

There was no telling that a cop on patrol might come by, as he braced his hands against the scratchy bark of a tree before the other man moved to pulled down his worn-out jeans and boxers. He shivered in a form of anxiety, his usually unblinking eyes glanced over, seeing that the man was already hard with the erection sticking out of the opened fly. It looked pale and disgusting, though he was internally relieved that his client was putting on a condom.

"Ahh...!" he gasped out a pudgy finger suddenly pushed into his dry entrance and his body immediately trembled. His mind, however, went back to his true goal. He was only doing this so he can feel better later on. Yeah... the pills will make him better, it had always made him feel better. He breathed through his nose, ignoring with all his might at the harsh dry fingering.

"You're right about not being used... you're lucky I even bother fucking you," muttered the older man after taking out his finger. Castiel shuddered at that and gulped, his fingers digging into the bark as he braced himself of what was to come.

"Hahh..." he winced softly when he felt himself being breached. The slick lubrication from the condom offered little comfort from the half-hearted preparation he was given just moments ago. He tried to relax himself, he didn't want to collapse before it can start and risk losing his pay. He groaned in slight pleasure, his hips shook before the rough hands gripped them and was rocked back and forth with the thrusts.

Castiel could feel the warm tears burning in his clenched eyes but remained calm through the ordeal. He groaned softly through his teeth, thinking repeatedly on his reward. Once this man was done, then he would go to another area for another man. He was glad that this one was using protection, no other guy would want to touch him otherwise. "Uhnn...!" he grunted with a shudder, feeling the man going into a climax already. That was good, it was better for it to be quick before he wanted to enjoy it.

"That was it...? You didn't even get hard yourself," grumbled the older man as he pulled out of him. Castiel simply grimaced and reached to fix up his pants. He didn't care that he should get aroused, as he turned to him.

"I did my part, that should be enough..." he sighed as he held out his hand. But the older guy frowned before taking out his wallet. But Castiel frowned in surprise when only a ten-dollar bill was taken out and plopped onto his palm. "... I was promised a twenty," he scoffed.

"And I was promised a good fuck... but an inflatable sex doll is more lively than you," grumbled the man as he fixed himself. "That's your loss..."

"But...!" Castiel wanted to protest but held himself back. He can't risk getting a black eye over something as little as this change now, not when he must get other men to have their ways with him. "... Fine..." he relented. The man just shrugged as he turned and walked away. But Castiel exhaled deeply, not wishing for this to be settled just like that. Cocking his head, he looked and saw a medium-sized stone near the base of the tree.

Very slowly, he bent down to pick up the loose rock. The intense blue eyes zoned in on the walking man just before he pulled his arm back. "Ah...!" he gritted, chucking the stone right at his head. He heard a grunt of pain before the man stumbled to the ground.

"Owww...!" he yelled out in pain. Castiel didn't waste any time rushing up to him, his hands quick to dig into his pockets. "Gah, you fucker- stop that...!" But Castiel avoided his swings after grabbing his wallet and and ran off through the bushes. He wouldn't be chased by the likes of him, as if the men here would dare risk being arrested themselves after getting robbed by a someone like him.

Panting heavily, the junkie ran down a hill then past a small playground. He was far enough as he finally stopped, coughing and hacking out spit when he hunched over. "Damn..." he wheezed, slumped against some random tree. He looked at the leather wallet, seeing that it was stuffed with cards and old receipts but he instantly saw the silverish color of hundred-dollar bills sticking out as well as the other money.

This was far more than enough, he realized in relief. He could get his medicine that could last him for the next few days. He took out the money, before dumping the wallet onto the nearby sandbox as he left the playground. He should leave now before that older man dares to find him. Maybe he should give some of his spoils to Anna; that girl often has a hard time getting someone to sleep with her. But he doesn't see her where he had left her, wondering if she was on the other side of this large park.

He could leave the brief worry for now, when he then left the public place. He didn't need to be used by another man tonight, now that his job was done. Putting the money into his pocket, he felt a piece a paper in there and took it out. He remembered that Meg had left a note as he read it.

'When you're done, I'll be at the Devil's Trap for a while. Go to the bouncer and ask for me, then meet me two blocks down to the small lot. You know what to do.

Meg.'

Of course Castiel knew what to do, he had done this plenty of times since his mind wasn't a comple mush. He was close already, feeling his heart beating fast with excitement and anticipation as he walked to his destination.

He wondered how long he will feel from getting the pills, which ones he thought about taking. He wanted to be careful about it, he didn't want to mix them up and ended up in a hospital for an overdose. When was the last that had happened...? Was it just before he came here...? He knew that it was, when he was on the borderline between Missouri and Illinois. The doctors had to pump out his stomach after he was found OD'd on a mixture of GHB and hard alcohol one night.

Strange, it wasn't the first time he nearly died... but he knew that it was the last he had seen his brother. Jimmy was on his last straw, he didn't want to give up on Castiel yet the large amount of stress was eating at him, as he begged repeatedly to stop killing himself and change for the better. But Castiel knew those words all too well and he ignored it as usual, tuning out the pleads of relying of faith to turn away from the 'sins' he kept falling into.

"Castiel, please... If you don't stop this now, then I won't help you anymore...! This has gone far enough...!" his twin had implored but Castiel just shook his head at that. There was just no way that Jimmy would dare cut him off financially, since he was his only sibling. But after that visit, he learned that the threat was true when he was discharged from the hospital. Jimmy didn't even let him get into the house where the junkie's brother was living with his own family- a wife and a young daughter. He was nothing but a leper to them then, a cruel irony since he had disregarded the bible a long time ago.

"If I'm found dead, then it's on you..." Castiel spat bitterly before turning away from his brother. "I hope the guilt will eat at you until you're dead..."

That was... about six years, during winter... Castiel frowned at that, why was he thinking about his past when it should be nothing to him? Jimmy was dead to him, as he was to him. His stomach felt sour at the remembrance and he grimaced. Maybe he would buy the stronger stuff from Meg, to forget everything and anything. After twenty minutes of walking, he found the club down the block. It was more exclusive and more obscure than Neveah; police rarely raids this one since the drug trafficking was more secretive.

It made more sense with Meg's directions as he saw the bouncer in front of the closed doors and went up to him. "Hey, um... I'm looking for Meg Masters, I was told she would be in there," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. The muscled man regarded him with a raised eyebrow, seeing that he was a textbook example of a drug addict.

"And you are...?"

"Castiel... she told me to meet her somewhere else," he muttered. "Can you... give her a message or something, please?" The bouncer seemed to understand that and nodded as he opened the door and muttered to someone.

"... It's done, okay?"

"Yeah, thanks a lot..." nodded Castiel, before he walked to his other spot. He put up a small wry smile, an expression he hadn't used in a longest time. He felt lucky tonight with so much money in his pocket. Maybe he would be coherent enough to sleep with Meg after chewing down a few capsules afterwards. He looked around to see the small parking lot, and waited as he vigorously rubbed at the goosebumps on his arms. But he didn't notice a limo slowing to a park a few blocks away...

"Cas...? Oh, there you are." Castiel turned around to see Meg strolling up to him, with his dealer glancing at him in slight surprise. "That was quick, I was only in the club for about a half an hour," she smiled lightly.

"I, uh... knocked some guy out with a rock and stole his wallet," he shrugged.

"Oh dear, Cas, I thought you would stop doing that," she sighed.

"He shortchanged me," he muttered lightly.

"Not a good excuse, silly head, you just got arrested for showing off your ass the other night," sighed Meg. "But anyways... you got the money, right?" Castiel nodded and took out a small wad of bills, much to the woman's mild surprise. "Well... you're gonna feast like gods with that amount," she joked lightly.

"I don't know about gods in particular... But, are you busy tonight, Meg?" he muttered.

"What do you think, Cas?"

"I was just wondering... if I could spend a night at your place, and..." Castiel mumbled, scratching his head almost awkwardly. But Meg got the message and pursed her dark lip with a sly smile.

"Well, if you're this happy, something must be right," she chuckled lightly. "Do you want your medicine first or wait for about a couple of hours until I'm done, Unicorn?" Castiel, despite of his needs, seemed to be more submissive of her question and nodded. They both knew that he was more sexually active without the drugs in his system, and he was more willing to sleep with her than the men in seedy places. "Just one guy tonight, right...?" she questioned.

"Yeah, it only lasted half a minute... No kiss or anything else like it," he nodded. To make sure of it, he leaned down to take her lips for one, pushing through the teeth as their tongues wrestled with one another. Meg moaned amusingly and kissed back. The junkie knew better than to touch her person, aside from the bottles inside of her jacket pockets she was packing a gun in case some fool would dare to rob her.

"Hmm... sit and stay here while Mama works, okay?" she smiled lightly, patting at his chest. "It won't take long, all right?"

"I'll try..." grunted Castiel with a nod. Meg simply smiled before walking away, as he squatted down and leaned against the brick wall of an empy building. He could last a couple more hours, as long as Meg promised to give him the stuff. But when he looked up, he suddenly noticed her pausing in her steps for a moment before she suddenly slipped into an alley. He frowned in slight confusion, there was no evidence of cops lingering around here. In fact, barely anybody was here in this area, as this town wasn't as lively as it would be in bigger cities.

He slowly stood up, head cocking to the side before hearing some muffled noises from the alleyway. Meg probably had to threaten someone, he assumed. But he wondered if it was something wrong, as the noises soon went to hushed voices. It sounded like... something bad, like some gruff voice muttering. It wasn't Meg talking, it was some man with a... weird accent. Castiel narrowed his eyes at that. Who was this person, was he talking to Meg...?

He was curious yet wary, wondering if his dealer was having a discussion with this strangely voiced man. Slowly, he shuffled down the block, each step brought him closer to the voices. He initially wondered if he should feel concerned about Meg's well-being since he doesn't hear her talking, but he didn't want to question it out loud. This doesn't seem right at all, only hearing this strange man talk.

"... I'm very disappointed in you, Meg..." Castiel froze in his movements, hearing the voice more clearly now that he was a few yards away from the alley. He furrowed his eyebrows. His drug-damaged mind tried to discern around this stranger's accent- was it British of some sort? "... You know, I thought for sure you would be a troublemaker, and I was right... Even the sly fox gets caught in a trap..."

"... I keep telling you, I have done nothing wrong," Meg finally muttered, and Castiel frowned in surprise. She sounded annoyed and yet at the same time... apprehensive, as if she seemed afraid of this man. "It's just stupid rumors... I would never dare to steal from you, knowing that you'd be pissed off about it-"

"Well then, where's the money, huh...?" came the scruffy foreign voice, sounding amused from her answer. "Taking every single fruit from a tree only to make, what, not even a half a cup. That's how I put it, Meg..."

"I'm working on it, all right? I already got a customer waiting on me-"

"That's the thing, Meg... I was told about one particular thing, something about shacking up with your junkie pet." The voice went slightly harsh, and Castiel felt his heart jolted in surprise. Does this man know about his relationship with Meg...? His dealer seemed to think otherwise as she let out a brief chuckle.

"Well, he's like an eager little puppy when it comes to his fix, but fucking him isn't part of my job description," she replied.

"Bollocks... Is he stealing from you? Is that why you're not making enough money?"

"I got a gun on me, he wouldn't dare to do that-"

"Unless of course, you're giving it away like some damn free clinic...! This is going around in circles, for crying out loud...!" Castiel shuddered by the angered voice, his withdrawals symptoms lessened by the sense of fear of this unknown man. Was this... Meg's boss that she was talking about? He seemed to know of him in some way, the drug addict thought for sure that his and Meg's secret were kept to themselves. "Tell me the truth, you damn leech...! Are you keeping money to yourself, or do I have to contact Lilth for more information?"

"Lilith...? She had been snitching on me?" questioned Meg.

"I love a little competition among my employees, but this is much more than I expected..." scoffed the man. "It's disappointing that you've done this to me, Meg-"

"I didn't do anything, Crowley...!"

Crowley...? That was the name...? Castiel flinched when he heard a clear sharp sound of a gun cocking. His blue eyes widened in shock, was it Meg who pulled out her own weapon? "You know, this is a shame, really... I thought for sure you would try to fight back, love," the 'Crowley' guy muttered.

"It's hard to do so with your cronies holding me down, you dumb leprechaun," scoffed Meg. "Just please, Crowley... let me make it up to you, I can give you the money as soon as-"

"Don't worry, there's no need for that anymore..." the man muttered in slight amusement. "We'll just simply take everything you got after we're done with you. And as for this piece of trash you've been snogging... nobody's gonna miss that bloke, if and when I find him in this town. After all, he's probably the reason my shit's all messed up."

"No... he has nothing to do with this. If you wanna kill me, then kill me," Meg said bitterly. "He doesn't know any of this... it's not like a shitty addict like him would blab around-"

"Don't care, Meg, I honestly don't care... It doesn't matter," 'Crowley' spoke now in a low threatening tone. "It's easier to kill off the stragglers, starting with that one..." Castiel took a shaky step back, breathing in panicked pants as his heart beat faster. This man... is going to kill Meg, and then him...

He must get away, but where...? And more importantly... why couldn't he run away, why can't he leave to save his own skin? Because of Meg...? He should flee, yet his legs were frozen in place. That man would find him here and kill him.

"That's a shame... This is the best for the both of us," the man muttered quietly. "Send my regards to my old buddies downstairs, Meg..."

"You-"

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Time seemed to have frozen in time the instant the gunshots were heard. The sounds were booming and ear-deafening in the empty air. Castiel froze in horror, every second went by like hours before realizing what had just happened. He couldn't breathe, couldn't even speak... He just stood here, before the sounds of shuffling footsteps were heard.

It didn't come closer, rather the sounds were disappearing in the echo of the alleyway. But still, the junkie was in shock, still afraid that making any sound would get him caught. And yet... he didn't hear any noise from Meg, which made him more scared.

Was she... dead...?

He heard nothing after the footsteps were gone, but not even thirty seconds after the shooting he soon heard clamoring down the street coming from the nightclub. Someone was coming to see this, possibly calling the police. No... this can't be. Forcing his legs to move, Castiel stumbled in his steps as he walked to the alley. This couldn't be real...

"M-Meg..." he croaked softly, stepping into the dark area. "Meg...? Are you still-" His intense blue eyes widened instantly when he stepped into a thick puddle of liquid. He knew what it was, by the sharp metallic smell in the air... "Meg...!" he gasped out in disbelief.

"... You f-f-fool..."

The choking sound of her voice caught his attention, before Castiel stepped closer. In the darkness, he could see her sprawled on the trash-littered ground. He wasn't sure what to think next, but immediately he rushed to her and knelt down. Meg coughed and choked on her own blood, her body shaking from shock as her widened eyes stared at Castiel.

"Y-you can't be here... Y-you m-must go, Cas..." she wheezed out, her hand gripping at her bloodied shirt. But Castiel didn't seem to hear her, as he gawked at the bullet wounds on her body. Besides the one in her chest where she was clutching at, she was shot twice in the stomach and one in her thigh.

"You... can't die, Meg..." gasped Castiel. "There's just no way..."

"I'm sorry..." she winced. "I've gotten t-t-too soft with a sap like y-you... that was m-my fault..." Castiel didn't get it. He reached out and petted her hair, staring at her like a lost child that couldn't understand what was going on. "J-just go... the cops would be here... a-any minute..." she coughed.

"No... I-I can't," he shook his head. "You're going to get better, Meg... you can get better..." Even with the blood vomiting out of her mouth, Meg managed to make a smile.

"My little unicorn... y-you're such a fool," she murmured, shakily reaching up to grasp his arm. "I-I shouldn't have... pulled you into my f-f-fucking mess..."

"But... Meg..." The blaring sounds of police sirens were evident in the air, but Castiel didn't seem to notice it at all, hunching over his dealer as he looked at her eyes. The light in them was going away and he frowned. Meg couldn't die...! "Please, Meg... just- just hold on, all right...?" he frowned, his expression grimaced with grief as he shuddered. Had he ever felt this way before, for someone...? He wasn't sure, and yet, he felt his heart aching when Meg smiled weakly at him.

"G-guess that booty call's gonna h-h-have to take a rain ch-check, Cas... S-sorry..." she whimpered weakly, just as her grip on him fell. Castiel blinked and realized that she gasped out her last breath, her eyes going blank the moment her head lulled back. Castiel stared at her almost in confusion, as if ignoring the fact that she had just died in his arms.

"Meg..." he croaked out, touching her cool face. But she was staring back at him with her eyes wide open, like a glass doll. But Castiel refused to believe that she was dead. "Meg, please..." he murmured, shaking at her shoulders. "You can't be dead... You need to get up...!"

He didn't even realize that cops were stepping into the alley with guns drawn, demanding that he move away from her.

"Meg...!" whimpered Castiel, warm tears unknowingly trickling out of his widened eyes. His only lifeline to his drugs was gone now, and it wasn't coming back. "Meg...! Meg!"

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Dafuq did I just write?LOL Clearly, the oversaturation of this fandom is taking up my brain but that can happen! Yep, the first chapter's done and it's time for the next one...!

Read and review.

I'll update ASAP!