Angel with a shotgun, fighting till the war's won, I don't care if Heaven won't take me back. Cas paid no notice to the song blaring out of the radio as Sam sat up. He glanced over at the radio, "What is this song anyway?" Cas didn't answer, instead his attention was diverted to Dean waking up and noticing that Cas was sitting in a chair by the end of the bed. "Dude, have you been watching us all night? That's creepy." Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed, "I'm gonna go brush my teeth. Pee. Take a shower." He grabbed the bag with his toothbrush, and walked into the restroom, closing the door behind him. Sam was still looking at the radio. Sometimes to win, you've got to sin. Don't mean I'm not a believer. Cas tuned off the radio with a flick of his hand. Sam turned to look at him, "So any leads on the wraith?" They'd found evidence of a wraith in the small town in Minnesota, and Cas had offered to help. Cas looked up, "Yeah, I think it's one of the staff at the shop, Ally Jones. I checked the store, made sure that nobody touched me, so that the wraith couldn't deflect the blame off of herself and on to somebody else like the one did with Dean. I definitely saw that she was the wraith. Unfortunately I think she noticed me. We'll have to be careful." Dean was coming out of the shower, sliding on a shirt as he listened to the last bit of what Cas had to say, "Okay, so we'll go to the shop after we eat breakfast. I'm starving."
Cas reluctantly agreed to go down to a diner for breakfast, even though he had no interest in eating. He was still an Angel after all. As he entered the café, a light haired man ran straight into him, "Watch where you're going! I'm walking." He walked off annoyed. Dean just shook his head, "Ignore him." They sat down at the booth, but Cas didn't even bother to pretend like he was interested in the menu. Instead he looked at the other people in the restaurant. The couple that was sharing the blueberry pancakes, the woman flirting with her waiter, the man sitting alone in the corner booth eating his pancakes with maple syrup. Dean's fingers snapped in front of his face, "Cas? You still there?" Cas nodded, "Yeah, why?"
"I asked you a question. What's the plan? Just walk into the store wielding a sliver knife, and stab the son of a bitch?" The waitress arrived with the Winchester's coffee, so Dean stopped talking about the case. She leaned forward to put Sam's coffee in front of him, and as she did so, Dean's coffee slid forward, and spilled all over Dean's shirt, the ceramic mug shattering on the table. "Oh shit!" Cas wasn't entirely sure whether it was Dean or the waitress who said this. Probably both. Dean leapt up, swiping his hands over his drenched shirt, "Aw crap! I'm gonna go get a new shirt on." Sam didn't seem to have gotten too much coffee on his shirt, just a small bit on his jacket, which he was trying to wipe off with a couple napkins. Cas had surreptitiously cleaned his trenchcoat, which had been spattered with coffee just moments before. Sam scoffed lightly once the waitress had (apologizing profusely) cleaned up what was on the table, "Well, it's not good when we haven't even had breakfast, and you can already tell that the day's not going to be a good day." Dean came back with a new shirt and a scowl.
Once they'd finally finished their breakfast, Cas was in a hurry to get to the hospital to talk to Ally Jones, hopefully confirming that she was the wraith, and killing her. He generally seemed to be in a hurry these days, with the situation in Heaven getting worse almost daily, he always seemed to be going somewhere. But Dean had asked him to work one case with them again, and Cas obviously couldn't just say no to that. Dean insisted that they walk, he said something about just popping up at the store with no warning might make the wraith suspicious. But Sam could tell that he just wanted to spend some time with Cas since he barely got to see him anymore. They got to the store without much problem, Dean had nearly ran into a little kid crossing the road to get his soccer ball, but otherwise nothing happened.
The shop was small, but it definitely was high-end. Cas couldn't see a piece of jewelry that was less expensive than $150. They made their way to the manager's office, "Sir, do you know where one of your employees is right now? Ally Jones?"
"No, she didn't show up for work today. I assume she's at home. Why? Is she a suspect? You think that she killed James? No, she and James were always good friends. The only reason I'm not taking money out of her paycheck for missing work is because I assume that she's at home greiv-" There was a loud scream from the main store area, "O my God, he's got a gun!"
"Nobody move!" At this point Sam and Dean burst through the door to the manager's office, back into the main part of the store. Sam raised his hand towards the man who had now pulled his gun on the rest of the store. "Sir. Just put the gun down. Nobody wants this. Nobody has to get hu-" The gunshot rang though the store, and Sam fell to the ground, a pool of blood forming around his head. Dean roared, pulling out his own gun, just to have the man who'd shot Sam shoot him in the chest as well. He fell to the ground, with his gun falling to his side, and his arm draped over Sam's dead form. The stench of fresh blood was thick in the air. Cas flew over to the man with the gun, too angry, too heavy with grief to care about people seeing him flying. He pressed his hand on the criminal's forehead, hissing into his face as he dropped, "You killed my friends, and now I am angry. You. Will. PAY." The man fell to the ground in a bright flash of light, just as dead as the bodies of Cas's friends. Cas rushed back over to Sam and Dean, "Dean." His voice choked, as if he only now realized what had happened, "Dean. I'll drag you out again. I don't care if it takes a hundred years. I'll drag you out. You and Sam both. I promise." Tears were running down Cas's cheeks, and this was a new feeling for him. Grief. Terrible, terrible grief. He closed his eyes to gather his thoughts, and suddenly, he couldn't feel the quickly cooling body in his hands, nor the still warm blood soaking into his pant legs. He couldn't smell the acrid smell of gunfire, nor the sickening smell of blood. He couldn't hear the screaming. He was in a chair. Angel with a shotgun, fighting till the war's won, I don't care if Heaven won't take me back.
"What is this song anyway?"
"Dude, have you been watching us all night? That's creepy."
A/N: Guys! Here it is! But no one reviewed on the last chapter of Blades (It just came out sure, but come on, not even ONE measly review?), and now it's depressing. You guys made me sad, and now my story is sad. I didn't change anything, so this is literally just what I wrote as I listened to the song. No really, you should listen to the song, Angel with a Shotgun. It's really good. So please like and comment, and then MAYBE the next chapter will be happier! No really, the more you review, the happier the chapter. I promise that the whole story won't be this depressing, and I think that you'll like it once it ends. Like and Comment. Thanks!