Dean brushed the washcloth across the dark mass of hair gently, then squeezed out the water into the bucket by the side of the bed and started again.

"Has he woken up yet?" Sam asked from where he leaned against the door frame.

"No, the injections he got from Pamala are still fresh in his system. But he should be up in a few hours." Dean replied without taking his eyes off the guy. It was disconcerting not to have the eerie blue gaze staring back at him.

"Dean…" The man in question sensed the forthcoming conversation and interrupted before it gained momentum.

"Shut up Sam. I know I messed up."

"We need to talk about this-"

"No, you do. I'm fine without it." Sam was getting frustrated and pressed on. Anger was becoming apparent in his voice.

"Look, if we're not going to talk about this as brothers than we need to talk about it as partners. I need to know what went on! If you turned up anywhere on those feeds then you've been compromised and I really don't want to have to deal with that after all this!" Sam huffed a breath and unclenched his fists.

"You done?"

"Damn it Dean!" Sam turned to leave the room, but stopped for a moment and spun back, "I'm calling this in. You got ten minutes to be prepared for the meeting." Dean sighed in resignation. "Like it or not Dean, you almost got someone killed and we still have no idea if the artist made it out okay."

"He is the artist." Dean said back.

"Okay, then the host."

"He is the host. Our information was a little off. He wasn't looking for two separate people." And that was the only information Dean was giving out at this moment. The feeling of failure still rested in his stomach. He was so close. After everything Azazel had done to so many people and Dean's own family and Dean missed the opportunity. For a moment Dean second-guessed himself. Maybe he should have gone after Azazel. But then Dean looked down at the black haired man sleeping.

No. He made the right choice.

Who knows what would have happened if he hadn't have gotten Cas out of there- and wait, Cas? Since when did he start calling the guy Cas in his mind? A snort from behind him drew his attention.

"Would you give the guy some room to breathe?" Sam asked with a hint of amusement, lightening the mood.

"Don't you have hair curlers to put in? It's late. Get some sleep, Samantha."Another huff came from Sam and Dean heard him turn to leave. Dean sat back in the chair he had pulled up and reached for the remote. When he flipped on the TV, a news caster's voice was suddenly booming from the speakers with an urgent voice.

"We just got word that although the thieves escaped the museum, something much more precious than the paintings were taken. It is reported that the famous Castiel Novak is missing and search parties are underway."

Crap.

"There is also possible evidence of a security video catching one of the assailants."

Crap crap.

"The investigation is underway."

…

"SAAAAM!"

The office was in an uproar. Telephones were ringing, copiers and printers were buzzing, people shouting over the phone and to one another, several of the television sets were on various news channels, and everyone was running about. It was chaos. Dean and Sam squirmed their way through the crowd in an attempt to make it to one of the board rooms. People were pushing to get inside and already the room was packed. The brothers just made it inside the room when the door sealed shut behind them. All around them people were in hushed conversation waiting for the boss to show. Just then, a door which was connected to Bobby's office opened. Bobby made his way to the head of the table and looked out amongst the crowd, his eyes stopping briefly on Sam and Dean.

"All right shut it ya idjits!" Everyone immediately took their seats. Bobby pulled out a chair as well and set himself down. Then he motioned to the brothers and spoke, "Well get on with it." Dean sighed and placed himself at the other end of the table. Sam close behind. Dean was a bit nervous locking eyes with all of his impatient colleagues but an elbow from Sam unlocked his jaw.

"It was Azazel."

In that moment everyone was up from their chairs and shouting across the table. People were busily working their tablets and others were threatening fists toward the brothers and Bobby. Dean's eyes went wide.

"Did you see his face?"

"Was his usual crew working with him?"

"Did he make his target?"

"When was he last seen?"

"Did he escape?"

"Why didn't you tell us about this case?"

"Is it over?"

"QUIET!" Bobby's voice boomed above the rest of the crowd. Slowly everyone took their seats. Bobby's eyes were mirrored with fury; h is dissatisfaction about the outcome of the case apparent in his demeanor. "Boys," Dean looked up and stated at his boss. He was really gunna have to do this it seemed.

"He was targeting a famous artist for reasons unknown." Sam spoke from his side. "We heard from an unidentifiable source that he would be at the museum for an art show. We also learned that the museum's owner and host was also to be targeted. Later we learned that the artist and Host are the same person." Sam took a breath and glanced over to Dean who nodded his head for his brother to continue. "We tracked his location to the third floor deep in the library. We assumed his position would be right above the stage, which would be the most convenient location to distribute his weapon. Our sources also told us Azazel had ordered five ounces of poison. When Dean went to intercept him, however, he was ready for us. A small bomb with his tracking signal was waiting for us when we arrived, which threw off communications between my partner and me."

Same once again looked toward Dean. Dean read the expression on his face and knew that was were Dean would have to pick up the story.

Dean began, "From there I tried to catch him before he got lost in the crowd but," Dean paused, trying to piece together a way to continue. "I… got distracted briefly and by then Azazel was lost. I decided to initiate our back up plan and joined him. Just as I located him again, however, the FBI was knocking down the door. We must have triggered the security system and they assumed the museum was being robbed-"

"That still doesn't explain why you kidnapped the artist." An irritated voice spoke. Dean noticed it was Becky from communications. Dean let out a grunt of annoyance.

"I'm gettin' there." He turned back to the crowd. "Knowing the risk of leaving the victim without protection I decided instead that his safety was more important and proceeded to escape the building. Azazel was there when we escaped so I'm guessing he got out too. We called Dr. Barnes to our safe house after Cas had been shot by Azazel. And… and that's all I got."

There was a silence among the room. No one shot up or left, no one spoke a word. They all just stared. Defeat was evident in their eyes. The silence lasted for a few beats before Bobby once again raised his voice.

"Get the FBI on the line; tell 'um it was one of our guys. Inform them of the situation. Becky," He looked to her, "Get a story out to media, we don't want this goin' public." With that he stood and dismissed the meeting. There was a solemnity amongst the group as they departed to go about their jobs. Dean could see it on everyone's face; the feeling of so close. The Winchester family wasn't the only one that was affected by the horrible drug lord and murderer. His crew made sure to make an impact on every one of the people involved in this organization.

After the board room was mostly empty, Bobby gestured over to his office, Dean understood the signal. He followed the man through the connecting room and sat down feeling the fatigue of the chase in every muscle of his body. Bobby sat down in his office chair in much the same manner. Sam stayed put by the door.

"Have a drink son." Bobby directed his attention to the bottle on his desk. Dean leaned forward and poured a glass.

"Cas huh?" Dean looked up at a smirking Sam but didn't comment.

"Where is the guy anyway?" Bobby questioned. Dean thought for a moment. He knew he could trust Bobby, but the fact that Azazel had known of their plan made Dean a little weary. He decided to play it safe.

"Safe."

"I see." Bobby let out a sigh. "I guess we have to address this then." He looked at both Sam and Dean with sad eyes. "There's a rat somewhere. Best find the pest before it becomes a real problem. I'll get somebody on it but I can't promise ya anything. As for the artist, Cas, or whatever, we're gunna need ta question him. I have a feelin' he might know more than he lets on. I think he knows more than we do, and he knows it too." Dean had the same feeling. Bobby directed his attention to Sam. "Sam, see if you can pull together some more info on Azazel's current whereabouts. Check all the usual sources and see in downtown could help you out. I want that source you spoke of earlier in here soon as you can get him."

The brothers nodded and were dismissed.

On the way out of the main room, past the communications sector, though the reception area, and up the elevator the brothers walked in silence. Dean could tell Sam was just holding back and it itched like a flea. Finally when they were out of the entire building and secret passage ways, Dean finally had enough of the awkward atmosphere.

"What?!" He spat, turning on Sam. Sam just looked at him but then let out a long sigh.

"I'm sorry you know."

"Sorry about what?" Dean's voice was a bit calmer now.

"About what I said earlier, about how much we failed, about being compromised and almost getting someone killed. You couldn't have anticipated Azazel knowing our position. So… Yeah. I'm sorry about accusing you and blaming you and everything. I guess I was just upset and disappointed about not finally catching the bastard." Dean understood completely. Didn't mean he didn't want Sam to feel a little guilty a little longer.

"Sorry to be such a disappointment." He spoke with vehemence.

"Shut up, you know what I meant!"

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Back at the safe house, Sam was packing up and Dean was cleaning his weapons when a small muffled noise came from the bedroom. Both brothers instantly heard the sound (Spies, remember?) and were on their feet and in the room in seconds. On the bed Cas was trying to pull himself into a seated position. Dean was at his side though and pushing him back down.

"Hey Cas, how ya feelin'? I know you're probably a little confused but you should rest up." Dean looked back at Sam and waved him off. Sam just rolled his eyes and went back to packing.

"Where… where am I?" His voice was even more gruff than the time Dean had first heard his voice and a shudder passed through Dean's body. What the hell? But he shook it off and directed his attention back to Cas. He decided to use the same precaution as he did with Bobby.

"You're safe."

"Thank you." For a moment Dean thought he was being sarcastic since Dean had given him kind of a crap answer, but one look into Castiel's eyes told him he was completely sincere. "For saving my life, that is." Dean couldn't help but be pleased with those cerulean eyes once again on him. Although they were a bit dimmer than the first time he had seen him.

"You should get some rest. We're leaving in a few hours."

"Leaving? Why?"

Dean just barely stopped himself from stroking the guy's hair to calm him down and instead used his most calming voice.

"Sam and I might have been compromised and we need to get moving if we have any hope of finding your assailant." Cas simply nodded as if he had no reason not to trust Dean. It was a bit startling to be honest. Cas closed his eyes and sank back into the bed. But just before drifting off, he peaked open his eyes once again and with a hint of his former amusement asked, "Cas?" Why was everyone asking that?