"Can I help you?"

Faythe Reilly pushed herself off of the counter and turned to face a tall, lanky man with dark-skin and a bald head. She pulled out a black wallet-looking object from her inside coat pocket and flipped it open to show the man an FBI badge with the name Agent Sarah O'Malley. He nodded his head and motioned for her to follow him. Once out of the main waiting area, he turned back towards her and waited for her explanation. She slipped her badge back inside the pocket and adjusted her coat over the suit she wore, something that made her look more professional and helped fuel the lie that she was an FBI agent.

"I need to speak with Deputy Walt Framingham?" She requested and the man nodded.

"I'm him. What can I help you with?" He asked.

"You were the one who was at that gas station that blew up, right?" She asked as she pulled out a notepad and pencil to help take notes if she needed it. He nodded. "Can you tell me what happened? I read it in the report, but I want to hear it first hand from you."

He nodded his head and led her into his office where he took a seat at his desk and motioned for her to sit in the chair across from him. "A call came in. Disturbance out at the Pump and Go on Route 4," He told her.

"What was the disturbance about?" She asked as she crossed her long legs, her skirt riding up a little bit with the motion before she pulled it back down.

"It was a riot, a full-scale riot. Thirty or four in a bloody battle. Next thing that happened, there was an explosion. They said it was one of those underground gas tanks, but I don't think so... it was pure white. The gas station was leveled... everything, everyone... it was just horrible. And then there was this one guy, he was kneeling on the ground, but not a single scratch on him. It was Donnie Finneman. He's a mechanic there," He explained to her.

"Do you know where he is now?" She asked.

"St. Peter's Hospital," He told her. After he gave her directions on how to get there, she shook his hand, thanked him and left the police station, heading in the way that he told her to go. Hopefully this would be the lead she was looking for, the lead on who killed her brother.


Dean Winchester let out a breath of annoyance as he held a washcloth under the running water from the sink in the motel room he was staying in. Once the rag had been wetted, he turned the water off and ringed it out so it was just damp before he began to wipe at a blood splatter on his jacket that he had obtained from killing a vampire a few hours previous. There was some shuffling from behind him and he glanced up to see a man with dark hair and blue eyes standing in the mirror wearing a trenchcoat.

"God," Dean said closing his eyes to calm his breathing back down to normal before he hit the sink with a closed fist. He hadn't been expecting someone to be behind him so when he saw Castiel, it had startled him. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. "Don't do that," He told the angel, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel replied ignoring the hunter's obvious dislike of being startled. Dean rolled his eyes and dropped the washcloth into the sink before turning around only to see Castiel was merely inches from him.

"Cas, we've talked about this," Dean began as if he was lecturing a small child, which in some ways Castiel seemed to be. "Personal space?"

"My apologies," Castiel said as he stepped back to give Dean enough room to feel comfortable and Dean grabbed his jacket that he had just been cleaning before walking past Castiel into the middle of the room.

"How'd you find me? I thought I was flying below the angel radar?" Dean asked as he rubbed his ribs to prove his point, the spot where Castiel had carved Enochian sigils into the Winchester's bones to protect them from angels who might be looking for them. He tossed his jacket onto the bed and grabbed another shirt.

"You are," Castiel said as he turned to face the hunter. "Bobby told me where you were." He paused as he glanced around the room, obviously looking for something or... someone. "Where's Sam?" He asked.

"Me and Sam are taking separate vacations for a while," Dean replied as he slipped on another shirt over his gray-ish blue t-shirt. "So, you find God yet?" He paused and shook his head as if to correct himself. "More importantly, can I have my damn necklace back?"

"No, I haven't found him." He shook his head. "That's why I'm here. I need your help," He said and Dean looked surprised for a moment.

"With what? The God hunt?" He asked as he rolled up the sleeves of the overshirt to his elbows then shook his head. "Not interested."

"It's not God, it's someone else," Castiel replied.

"Who?" Dean asked.

"Archangel. The one who killed me," He explained.

"Excuse me?" Dean asked, waiting for further explanation.

"His name is Raphael," Castiel said and Dean cocked his head to the side, a smirk on his lips.

"You were wasted by a Teenage Mutant Ninja Angel?" He asked, a tone of sarcasm in his voice.

"I've heard whispers that he's walking the earth," Castiel said ignoring Dean's attempt at humor because he didn't understand the reference the hunter was making. He rarelyunderstood any of the references Dean made. "This is a rare opportunity."

"For what? Revenge?" Dean asked him and Castiel shook his head.

"Information," The angel corrected. Dean sighed as he walked past Castiel again over to the sink and grabbed a rag and his knife from off the counter and began to clean off his knife.

"So, what, you think you can find this dude and he's just gonna spill God's address?" Dean asked, his back to Castiel.

"Yes," Castiel said. "Because we are going to trap him and interrogate him," He added and Dean turned around to face the angel's back. The hunter's emerald eyes held doubt on what was being said, but Castiel was a friend. He paused in the cleaning of his knife and sighed.

"You're serious about this?"

Castiel turned around to face him, to show him just how serious he was. "Yes," He replied simply and Dean sighed again before tossing the washcloth onto the counter behind him as he walked towards Castiel.

"So what?" He asked. "I'm Thelma and you're Louise, and we're just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together?" He questioned. Castiel stared at the hunter, confusion in his blue eyes. Dean sighed and closed his eyes. His reference had been lost on the angel once again. He stepped around Castiel and slid his knife into his bag. "Give me one good reason why I should do this?" He questioned his friend.

"Because you're Michael's vessel," Castiel replied as he turned to face Dean. "And no angel will dare harm you."

Dean's eyes widened as he glanced at Castiel. "Oh, so I'm your bullet shield?" Instead of answering the question, Castiel turned completely to face the hunter, the seriousness of the situation in his sapphire orbs.

"I need your help because you are the only one who will help me," He told him. "Please." Dean sighed, unable to tell a friend no.

"All right, fine. Where is he?"

"Maine," Castiel replied. He reached two fingers towards Dean forehead but the emerald-eyed hunter jerked back and held his hands up.

"Whoa! Whoa!" He exclaimed and Castiel brought his hand back down by his side.

"What?" He asked, confused by Dean's actions.

"The last time you zapped me some place I didn't poop for a week," He replied. "We're driving," He added, his tone implying there was no room for negotiations. He grabbed his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder before leading the way out of the room after turning off the lights. He tossed his bag into the trunk of the Impala, pulled out his keys and-after signing out from the motel-drove away.


Dean drove the Impala to Main, which was only a few hours from the motel he had been staying out until Castiel had requested his help. Once there, he parked the car on the curb of the road and got out, Castiel following his lead. Since leaving the motel, Dean had changed into a suit and tie, making him look more official. Since Castiel was already wearing a suit, he hadn't needed to do much. Dean sighed as he stepped up on the sidewalk beside the angel and turned to face him, a little annoyed from being tired without any sleep in the past few weeks.

"Okay, tell me again. We're here why?" Dean asked.

"A deputy sheriff laid eyes on the archangel," Castiel replied.

"And he still has eyes?" Dean asked him, confused. "All right, what's the plan?" He questioned after Castiel had nodded his head.

Castiel looked confused. He thought the plan of action was obvious. "We'll... tell the officer that he witnessed an angel of the Lord, and the officer will tell us where the angel is."

"Seriously? You're going to walk in there and tell him the truth?" Dean replied, not understanding Castiel's logic, but then he had to realize the angel had never done anything like this before, so he didn't know the ways to question others.

"Why not?" Castiel asked.

"Because we're human," Dean replied as he reached through the open window of the Impala and pulled out two ID badges. He flipped one open to see which one it was, and then slipped it into the inside pocket of his suit coat then slipped the other one into Castiel's coat. "And when humans want something." He paused to button up Castiel's shirt then adjust his tie higher up. "really, really bad, we lie." He grinned innocently at his friend.

"Why?" Castiel asked.

"Because." He continued to grin. "That's how you become president." With that, he led the way inside the building where they asked to talk with Deputy Framingham who led them into his office after telling them he had lost his hearing in his one ear from the explosion.

"A call came in," Deputy Framingham began. "Disturbance out at the Pump and Go on Route 4."

"What kind of disturbance?" Dean asked.

"Would not have believed my eyes if I hadn't seen it myself. We're talking a riot. Full scale," Framingham told him.

"How many?" Dean questioned.

"Thirty, forty, in all-out kill-or-be-killed combat?" Framingham said, trying to remember and Dean nodded.

"Any idea what set them off?" The question had of course been directed at the sheriff, but Castiel took it upon himself to answer.

"It's angels and demons, probably," The angel replied and Framingham glanced at him, confused. Castiel then felt the need to explain further. "They're skirmishing all over the globe."

"Come again?" Framingham asked and glanced at Dean. "What'd he say?"

"Nothing," Dean said at the same time Castiel said 'demons'. Dean shot him a dark glare and tried again. "Nothing," He repeated but Castiel said the same thing. Dean glared at him hard and Castiel glanced away, choosing now to be quiet.

"Demons, you know, drink, adultery. We all have our demons, Walt," Dean said when he turned back to face the sheriff.

"I guess..." Framingham said, not completely convinced.

"Anyway, what happened next?" Dean asked, urging the subject along before Castiel said anything else that would let the man know he was an angel. He might as well just be wearing a giant neon sign that said "I'm an angel of the Lord, come to do his bidding." Dean shook his head at the image and figured it best to get Castiel out of there fast.

He learned that the explosion wasn't like a gas tank leak or whatever the report had said because the fire had been pure white. They also learned that a man had been in the middle of the damage and hadn't been hurt in anyway. They go this name, and thanked the deputy for his time before exiting the building. Dean gave Castiel a look once they got in the Impala, and the angel simply gave him a confused look. Dean rolled his eyes at the look before starting up the Impala and driving to the hospital where Donnie Finneman was located.

They arrived, entered the hospital and walked to the room where Donnie was being held. Once there, they saw a black man in a wheelchair, his head hanging low and his eyes closed. He was there, but not there. Dean and Castiel watched the man from the hallway window, not wanting to go in and bother him. Dean sighed before turning to the angel, who had a disappointed look on his face. By the look on his face, Dean knew this wasn't Raphael anymore. It was just an empty vessel that the angel had left.

"I take it that's not Raphael anymore?" Dean asked, clarifying.

"Just an empty vessel," Castiel replied.

"So is this what I'm looking at if Michael jumps in my bones?" Dean asked, wanting to know what would happen to him if he said yes. Castiel turned to face Dean, completely serious.

"No, not at all. Michael is much more powerful. It'll be far worse for you," Castiel replied being completely honest, and Dean glanced away, not liking the answer.

"We should get out of here," He said as he headed back down the hallway to leave the place and noticed a familiar female walk into the building. He narrowed his eyes at her. This wouldn't be a nice reunion.


Faythe pulled the handbrake to her Toyota Hilux. Around it were various weapons and books, discarded uselessly. She ignored them and pushed open the door, climbing out as she straightened her skirt. She crossed the car park and the automatic doors slid open, below a giant sign. It read "Saint Pete's Hospital." As she walked in, the receptionist glanced up. He saw a woman about 5'7" walking towards him purposefully. She had short, cropped hair that was a deep brown colour. It allowed her bottle green eyes to be seen clearly. As she approached the desk, he noticed they had dark blue rings around them.

"Hi," he said, looking up from his computer and trying not to notice her athletic body that defined her curves. "Are you here to visit someone?" She gave him a charming smile.

"Yes, I'm here to see Donnie Finnemann," she said, her voice curving richly around the words. The receptionist glanced down at his keyboard, tapping the patient's name in.

"He's in room 304 on the second floor." Faythe pushed herself off the desk, giving him another smile.

"Thanks," she said, turning and walking over to the stairwell.

She avoided lifts when she could. She'd had far too many bad experiences with them. She walked along the corridor until she found room 304. She peered in through the window, not wanting to go inside the room yet. A black man sat catatonic in the middle of the room, in a wheelchair. He didn't seem to be moving. From what Faythe had experienced with angels, usually they were more active than this. Maybe it was a ruse? She paced outside the window, thinking for a few minutes before softly pushing the door open.

"Donnie?" she asked as she walked over to the man. There was no reply and as she came round in front of him, she could see he was completely comatose. She didn't know whether to be happy he wasn't an angel, or disappointed she'd lost her lead. "Donnie?" she asked again, raising her voice a little louder.

There was still no response.

She turned away, angrily exiting the room and slamming the door. Every angel she didn't find was her failing herself and her brother. She needed to clear her head. She walked back down the stairs and crossed the hospital foyer quickly, ignoring the receptionist's voice.

There was a café across the road and she made her way across the street. She ordered a short black and got an energy drink as well, quickly drinking them. The sudden buzz calmed her brain and helped her think. The hospital lead was the best she'd had in months and what had it given her? Nothing but a dead end. She sighed, despondent. There was nothing she could do with the man sitting up in the room. Nothing she could think of right now, anyway. But it was all she had.

"Can I get that coffee to go?" she asked the waitress and she nodded, before bringing over Faythe's drink.

She stood up, kicking the chair back under the table before walking back across the road. As the doors slid open for her again, two men crossed the foyer she'd been in earlier. One was shorter, wearing jeans and a leather jacket. He had piercing green eyes that scanned the room. The other's face was set in a pained expression. He had a cream coloured trench coat over what looked like a suit. He was also familiar to Faythe. She narrowed her eyes before realising it was the angel she'd tried to kill several months earlier.

Her hand automatically went to the angel's blade tucked into the back of her jeans. The man beside him caught her eye, noticing her and her odd movements. He began to move over to her. Faythe narrowed her eyes, her other hand going to her gun. One should always be on one's guard.

"I don't think so," Dean said as he grabbed her wrist just as it pulled out the blade from behind her back. He held onto her other wrist when she reached for her gun. "Let's take this outside? Shall we?" He asked and without waiting for a response from her, he led her outside and around the building before letting her go just as she yanked out of his grasp, her eyes blazing at him.

"Is that anyway to greet a lady?" She questioned and Dean scoffed.

"You're hardly what I would consider a lady," Dean replied smirking when her eyes narrowed further at him before redirecting onto the angel behind him. Dean sidestepped and stood in the way of her gaze. "What are you doing here, Faythe?" He questioned her.

"The same reason you are. The angels involved," Faythe replied, looking back at Dean.

"Can I trust you not to attempt to kill, Cas?" Dean asked her and Faythe sighed exaggeratedly before holding her hands up in surrender.

"I will not attempt to kill him. Now, tell me what you know," She said.

"Probably nothing different than you," Dean said. "That man in there is nothing but an empty vessel," He said. "We have no way of finding the archangel."

"Not necessarily," Castiel said speaking up. "You just have to know how to communicate with them," He added and Faythe glanced at him.

"So Angel Boy here can help us?" Faythe asked.

"Hold up," Dean began. "what is this 'we'? I didn't say you could go with us."

"You didn't say I couldn't. Look, I'm just trying to find the angel that killed my brother, all right?" She said. "If I have to kill a few along the way, oh well."

"Killing the angels isn't gonna bring him back," Dean said but sighed at the annoyed look she was giving him. "Fine. You can tag along. If you don't interfere with what we have to learn," Dean told her and she nodded her head.

"I'll do what you tell me."

"Last time I checked, you didn't submit to orders all that easily, Faythe," Dean said dryly.

Castiel stood behind him silently. Faythe groaned inwardly. She hated it when he was right. Because she didn't submit to orders. She'd met Dean Winchester about three months back but she'd heard about him long before that. She'd been tracking an angel, Castiel was his name. She'd finally caught him and questioned him. He denied any knowledge of her brother, but Faythe had been ready to dispose of him anyway. She'd been about to slide the angel's blade through his throat when someone had stopped her. And that someone had been Dean Winchester. She'd been pissed off but she'd heard enough about him as a hunter to respect his wishes and they'd reached an understanding. She wasn't to harm Castiel.

"I do when there's something I really, really want," Faythe said, rolling her eyes. Dean appraised her, still unconvinced. "And I really, really want to kill some motherfucking angels." Dean smirked as she swore.

"And you tried to convince me you were a lady," he said. Faythe glared at him.

"Cut the crap Dean. I know you know what to do about the archangel because of your little friend here," she said. "So tell me what I need to do and let's get it done." There was a silence as Dean glanced at Castiel.

"We're going to try and summon him. If you're not there, your loss," was all Dean would say. Faythe nodded, before holding her hand out for her blade.

"Can I have my knife back?" she asked. As Dean pulled it out from his jacket, Castiel's eyes widened.

"That is not a knife," he said, sounding horrified she could disrespect it be calling it that. "That is the blade of the angel Ezekiel." Faythe took the blade hilt first and slid it back into her jeans, before looking at the angel.

"Is that a problem?" she asked, a hint of menace entering her voice. Dean glanced at Castiel warningly, but he ignored it.

"No angel would have willingly surrendered their blade," Castiel told her. Her eyes narrowed further as she pulled it back out of her jeans, running her finger along the edge of it.

"Well let's just say I acquired it somehow."

"Killing my brothers isn't going to bring yours back," Castiel said, repeating Dean's earlier words.

However, an angel saying it-the very same species that killed her brother-had a much different effect on Faythe. Faythe's eyes flashed and in the next minute, she had Castiel pressed up against a wall, her hand pressing across his windpipe and the angel's blade in her hand, pointing directly at his throat. She was breathing heavily. Dean grabbed her and yanked her back, glaring at her. Faythe ignored him, her eyes locking with Castiel's, blazing with anger.

"You aren't worthy enough to speak of him." she said before she turned and stalked away.


"Why are we here?" Faythe asked as she stepped out of her car and glanced at the scene before her. In front of them was a rundown wooden cabin, the steps tilting to one side. The boards that had been nailed over the windows, some were hanging off by a single nail. The windows that she could see were covered in dust and dirt, making it difficult to see into the house. She shook her head, it looked like something straight out of a horror movie. Why couldn't they pick safer places to stay in?

"We needed a place to hide out," Dean replied as he walked up the steps, each one creaking painfully as he stepped on it.

"And you couldn't pick a place that looked more steady?" She asked as she followed him into the house with Castiel behind them.

"You know of a place to go to, let me know," Dean commented sarcastically as he walked into the middle of the front room. There were some boxes lined up against the wall, nothing in them of course. But those were the only things that were inside the house.

"Whatever," Faythe muttered under her breath. Dean turned to say something to Castiel, but he had disappeared, and the hunter rolled his eyes.

"Great. Thanks for the warning, Cas," Dean called out to the air before turning to Faythe. "Why do you think killing these angels is going to bring your brother back?" He asked and instead of answering him, she sat down on one of the boxes and changed the subject.

"What's our next plan?" She asked him. Dean rolled his eyes before sitting down on a box as well and flipped through the pages of his father's journal.

"Not sure. I'm gonna see if my dad knows anything about angels, and we'll go from there." He flipped another page while Faythe pulled out a knife and flipped it around, a habit she had developed out of boredom.

"So, where's Sam?" She asked.

"Him and I split up for the time being," Dean replied casually and Faythe stopped twirling the knife, taken off guard by his answer. When she had run into them last, Dean had been overprotective of his little brother. It hardly seemed they would ever split up.

"You what?" She asked.

Dean glanced up at her. "Did I stutter?" He asked before going back to looking through his father's journal.

"No... it's just-I didn't think you guys would split up," Faythe stated, his voice full of shock.

"Yeah, well... we did," He said, not looking back up at her. There was a fluttering sound behind him, and Dean turned to see Castiel standing there with a ceramic jar in his hands. He set it down on the table as Dean stood up. "Where have you been?"

"Jerusalem," Castiel replied, and Dean looked taken back by the answer. He nodded his head, trying to process it.

"Oh? How was it?"

"Arid," Castiel replied again.

"What's that?" Faythe asked, motioning to the jar as she came to stand by the two men.

"It's oil. It's very special. Very rare," Castiel told her as he sat down.

"Okay, so we trap Raphael with a nice vinaigrette?" Dean asked him and Castiel stared at him for a few minutes before speaking.

"No," He said and Dean rolled his eyes.

"So this ritual of yours, when does it got to go down?" Dean asked.

"Sunrise," Castiel said.

"Tell me something. You keep saying we're gonna trap this guy. Isn't that kinda like trapping a hurricane with a butterfly net?" Dean asked and Castiel shook his head.

"No, it's harder."

"Do we have any chance of surviving this?" Faythe asked him.

"You two do," Castiel replied and Dean's mouth fell open in shock.

"So odds are you're a dead man tomorrow," Dean said and Castiel nodded.

"Yes."

"Well. Last night on earth. What are your plans?" Dean asked him and Castiel glanced at him, not understanding.

"I just thought I'd sit here quietly," The angel replied and Faythe couldn't help but laugh at how innocent Castiel was.

"Come on, anything? Booze, women?" Dean asked, searching for anything Castiel might like or want to do. The only response Dean received was an uncomfortable look from the angel.

"You have been with women before. Right? Or an angel, at least?" Dean asked, correcting himself and Faythe stared at him.

"You do know all angels are related, right?" She questioned him and Dean glanced at her before looking back at Castiel who shook his head.

"I've never had occasion, okay?" The angel replied a little annoyed.

"All right," Dean said as he stood up and grabbed his jacket. "Let me tell you something. There are two things I know for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay,' He explained as he put his jacket on. "Two, you are not gonna die a virgin. Not on my watch. Let's go." With that, he walked out of the door. Castiel glanced up at Faythe before following Dean out. Faythe laughed at the conversation that had just taken place before following them. This would probably be the funniest thing she had ever witnessed, Dean trying to get an angel laid.

Dean watched Faythe climb into her car from the front seat of the Impala. He wound his window down and indicated for her to do the same so he could speak to her.

"You're not coming with us." It was a statement, not a question. Faythe raised her eyebrows.

"Why not?"

"For one, you said you'd follow orders. For two, do you have any idea where we're going?" he asked her. Castiel sat uncomfortably in the front seat beside Dean. Faythe leaned out of the window, trying to look threatening as she could.

"For one," she began, mimicking Dean. "I think that if I let you out of my sight, you'll exclude me from pawning a motherfucking angel," she said. "And for two, I'm not some delicate flower, Dean. I can survive wherever you're going." Dean rolled his eyes, knowing he wouldn't be able to win.

"Probably only because you've worked there beforem" he muttered loud enough for her to hear before rolling his window up. She glared at him, revving her engine and following Dean when he pulled out.

He drove down the main highway and back into the town. The sun slowly sank under the horizon, casting a dark air perfectly fitting or the events that were going to take place later that night. Dean pulled the Impala into a parking lot underneath a brightly lit building. Its large neon sign read "Firecats" with a figure of a naked woman beside it, also in neons. Faythe rolled her eyes in disgust, pulling on the handbrake. She climbed out of the ute, making her way over to Dean's car. She appreciated the Impala he seemed to adore, but she felt it didn't have enough convenience for their job.

"Really? You're getting an angel laid here?" she hissed to Dean as he began to make his way to the building with a smirk.

"Not just the angel," he said with a lecherous wink.

Faythe rolled her eyes, following him inside. Dean lead a very lost looking Castiel to a table, smirking at Castiel looking around at all the skimpily clad women in wonderment. He then ordered Castiel a beer and looked around to size his own woman up. Faythe followed them, sitting around the far side of the booth and ignoring everything, drinking a rum and coke. Castiel leaned forward, looking terrified. Dean chuckled.

"Hey relax," he told the angel.

"This is a den of iniquity," he said. "I should not be here."

"All you angels are dirty murderers anyway, does it really matter that you're in a whorehouse?" Faythe asked rhetorically, rolling her eyes. Dean shot her a glare before turning back to Castiel.

"Dude, you full on rebelled from heaven. Iniquity is one of the perks," he said, raising his bottle to his lips.

A blonde girl in a white outfit approached their table, a seductive smirk on her face. The word outfit was used in the loosest sense—it was a pair of underwear and a white bra, her midriff covered by some sort of gauzy white material. Castiel locked eyes with Faythe, to avoid looking at her. Faythe merely stared the angel down stonily before shaking her head.

"Hi." The hooker had reached their table. She had a soft voice that suited her outfit. "What's your name?" she asked. Castiel ignored her, clutching his beer hard.

"Cas," Dean said, smirking as Castiel jumped out of his reveries. "His name is Cas. What's your name?" he asked.

"Chastity."

"Oh God, you have got to be joking," Faythe muttered and Chastity gave her a dirty look.

"Chastity," Dean repeated, smirking at the irony. She nodded, returning her gaze to Castiel, who finally looked up at her fearfully, after draining his beer. "Wow," Dean said, glancing uncertainly at the angel. "Is that kismet or what, buddy? Well, he likes you, you like him, so dayenu." He finished the last part by lifting his glass.

"Come on baby," Chastity said, taking Castiel by the hand and leading him out of the booth.

Castiel allowed himself to be lead like a cow to the slaughterhouse. Faythe watched him go, simultaneously disgusted and glad to be out of the company of an angel. She couldn't help but think that if he wasn't one of her most hated enemies, she'd want to comfort him due to lost expression on his face. Dean quickly went after him, catching Castiel's arm while he muttered a few words and handed over a bundle of notes. The angel still looked as lost as ever.

"Go get him tiger," Dean said, clapping a hand on his arm and returning to his seat. "And now for my own score. Should be a lot easier," he said, looking around the bar.

"It's not a score if you have to pay, Dean," Faythe told him.

"Faythe, stop killing the mood and go hook up with one of the bouncers or something. Or better yet, how about you," he said, pointing at Faythe, "loosen up and hook up with a friend." The manner in which he said it meant the meaning was unmistakable.

"You're disgusting," Faythe told him as he stood.

He smirked, his eyes travelling over the many women in the room. One caught his eye, but not for the reasons he was looking for. She had long, wavy blonde hair tumbling around her face, framing innocent blue eyes. Innocent eyes that did notbelong in a brothel. As Dean surveyed the rest of her, he realised she wasn't a hooker. She was wearing a white dress that floated behind her as she picked her way through the crowd, yet unlike Chastity's outfit, it showed little skin.

Nevertheless, it clung close to her body and Dean had no trouble noticing the curves on the petite woman. However, he grew uncomfortable when she appeared to be making her way towards him. Her eyes locked with his and his hand unconsciously went to the gun tucked into the back of his jeans, hidden by his jacket. He glanced back at Faythe, who was ignoring all her surroundings, before looking back to the blonde woman. As she came closer, Dean could see that she was tiny, about 5'0", he reckoned. When she was in earshot to him, she spoke.

"Where is Castiel?" Dean froze, immediately running his options through his head. He decided anonymity was the best plan of action.

"Castiel?" he asked, feigning ignorance. The blonde's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"I am an angel. I saw you with him. I need to see him." Before Dean could reply, there was a scream from the direction Castiel disappeared in.

"Can you hold that thought for just one second?" he asked. The blonde nodded, following him as he moved through to the back corridor. Chastity was leaning forwards, obviously angry as Castiel stood their dishevelled.

"Get out of my face! Leave me alone! Bastard! Screw you, jerk!" she yelled at him. Dean chuckled from the other end of the hallway, before Chastity turned and made her way back down. "Screw you too!" she yelled in Dean's face as she made her way past. Dean walked up to Castiel, Evangeline obscured behind him.

"The hell did you do?" Dean asked, obviously confused as to how Castiel could mess up sex with a hooker. Castiel turned to Dean, the lost expression plastered all over his face.

"I don't know. I just looked her in the eyes and told her it wasn't her fault that her father Gene ran off. It was because he hated his job at the post office," he told Dean seriously. Dean stared at him.

"No, oh no man! This whole industry runson absent fathers!" There was a noise from the top end of the corridor, where Chastity had disappeared to. Two bouncers appeared, ready to find out what the cause of the scream was and Dean turned back to Castiel. "We don't want to meet them" he said. "And plus, a friend of yours showed up," he said, stepping to the side and gesturing to the blonde angel. Castiel's eyes widened in surprise.

"Eva—" he began to say before he was cut off by Dean shoving him down the hallway. They all hurried before exiting out of the back door.

Once outside, they all turned and looked at each other.

"So Cas. Care to explain who Blondie here is?" Dean asked. At the mention of the nickname, the blonde girl glared at him. The difference in temperament was instantly apparent in her eyes, as they drove icily through him.

"I am the angel Evangeline," she said. "Why are you here Castiel? This is a den of iniquity." Dean couldn't stop himself laughing. It seemed the angels all followed a pattern.

"It's no concern. I believe my question would be more applicable. Why are you here?" He asked. There was a pause. "On Earth," Castiel clarified. Evangeline glanced at Dean. "This is Dean Winchester. We can trust him."

"After you saved Dean Winchester, I... I rebelled," she admitted, looking up at him. Castiel frowned.

"You went against our brothers and sisters for me?" he asked, to clarify what she was saying. She nodded. "And now you are here," he said, stepping forward and placing a hand on her arm "Where is your Grace?" Evangeline's cheeks coloured slightly.

"I lost it when I fell... I don't know where it is." At that moment, she looked just as lost as the elder angel. An Angel's Grace was their most important possession. It allowed them to communicate with other angels and access the powers of Heaven. However, when an angel rebelled, their Grace was generally misplaced as they became human. "I've been trying to find another angel," she told them. Castiel nodded.

"And now you have found me, sister," he said, a hint of familiarity entering his voice. Evangeline gave him a half smile, glancing uncertainly at Dean.

"Well I hate to break up this little happy family reunion but don't we have more pressing matters?" Dean asked, rolling his eyes.

"Such as?" Evangeline asked.

"Such as an appointment with a megalomaniacal angel, as well as an anti-angel hunter who's hanging out with us." The human slang was lost on Evangeline.

"Hanging out?" she asked. Before Dean could explain, Castiel cut him off.

"Evangeline. Dean has a woman friend who does not like our species because one of us killed her brother." Evangeline's lips parted in shock. "Normally I would not consider her such a threat but she carries Ezekiel's blade. I suggest you keep your true identity a secret until we can ascertain she will not harm you." Evangeline looked about ready to protest, or at the very least press Castiel with questions but he held up a hand to stop her. "All will be explained in good time, Eva."

The nickname surprised Dean. Evangeline still looked very troubled but she nodded. Dean began to walk around back to the front of the bar and Castiel and Evangeline followed behind him. When they emerged into the carpark, they saw Faythe leaning against the hood of her Hilux.

"Figured you'd show up sooner or later," she said, smirking before she noticed Evangeline. "Who's this?" she asked, keeping her face straight but her hand going to her blade.

"This is Evangeline. She's a friend of Ca—mine. A friend of mine" Dean amended. If Faythe thought she was a friend of Castiel's and she knew he was an angel, she would surely put two and two together.

"Friend?" she queried, her tone slightly suspicious.

"From New York," Dean said, and her face relaxed when Dean didn't say anything more. Faythe nodded before moving around to the driver's door. "Don't we have a date with some ass-angel?" she asked. Dean rolled his eyes.

"We sure do," he answered, turning to the angels and gesturing for them to climb into the Impala. Evangeline's eyes grew wide as Castiel opened the door and climbed inside, and she was expected to do the same.

"What is this?" she asked curiously, in a perfectly normal tone. Faythe, who had since wound her window down again, raised her eyebrows, sensing something didn't quite add up.

"You live in New York and you've never seen a car?" she asked dubiously. Before Evangeline could respond, Dean glanced over the car.

"It's a '67 Chevy Impala," Dean said before rolling his eyes. "Get in," He added, and Evangeline glanced at him uncertainly before opening the back door of the Impala and climbing into the back seat before Dean drove off.

"We need to go back to Raphael's vessel," Castiel informed Dean who nodded his head before going down the road towards the hospital.