It was around 1 AM when the Impala finally reached its destination - or as far as it could, in any case. The town was a small, rural one, with a population of around three hundred and thirty. Chances were it had one small police station, with a force of no less then ten or so officers, give or take. None the less, when Sam, Dean and Castiel pulled up at the town, it was, as Dean put it, "like a crime scene out of back to the future 2." Barricades had been set up, yellow police tape draped around poles and in the night's darkness it was easy to make out the red and blue flashes of police vehicle alarms. By the look of it, there were dozens of them.

Dean could feel a heavy, familiar feeling of dread settling in his stomach.

"This is crazy." Castiel mumbled from the back seat. "What could have happened here?"

"I don't know, Cass." Sam replied. "This town shouldn't have such a big police force. Even with the news stories... I didn't think it would be this bad. Whatever happened, it must be big."

"Better be, if they've called out this many police cars." Dean contributed. "Even in some of our bigger cases, do we usually see what? Three? Four at maximum?" He shook his head, his grip tightening around the steering wheel. "... I guess we should check it out."

"W-wait, ch-check it out?" Dean was stopped by Castiel's voice as he began to get out. "That's a police crime scene! We can't go in there!"

Dean rolled his eyes, groaning. "Yes, Cass. That's kind of the point of the suits? If we don't go in there and ask them questions, how are we supposed to know what happened?"

"B-but... They'd ask for identification, wouldn't they?" Castiel protested. His eyes widened slightly. "Or..."

"That's why we have fake IDs, Cass." Dean, feeling quite exasperated by now, slid out of the car and opened the trunk of the car, browsing through the arsenal inside of it. Sam was the second one out, followed hesitantly by Castiel.

"Y-you..." Castiel looked down-right frantic by now. "I..."

"We told you not to come with us." Dean snapped, grabbing his equipment and, when he was sure that Sam had retrieved his, slamming the trunk shut. "Now, if you're going to chicken out, you can stay in the Impala. Otherwise, if you want to find any leads on why your memory is ... the way it is, I suggest you do what I suggested you do - tag along and don't ask stupid questions."

Sam looked away sheepishly. He had every intention to stay out of this one. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean tossing Castiel a badge and Castiel clumsily catching it. From the way Castiel was sweating bullets, Sam feared that he'd blow their cover. None the less, they had decided that he was coming and so the three of them headed towards the crime scene. "Relax, we've done this maybe ten thousand times." Sam whispered to Castiel as they walked.

Castiel's face crinkled. "Ever get caught?" He breathed, wiping a line of sweat off of his forehead.

Sam bit his lip. "Well - once or twice."

Castiel sighed, obviously not reassured. "Great." He murmured. "Just bloody perfect."

"Look - just hold up the badge we gave you when they ask for identification. You don't even need to say anything - heck, half the time they don't even examine it further." Sam rushed his explanation as they walked the last meter or so to the crime scene. Quickly, he straightened his posture and got ready to show his own ID.

As expected, an officer stopped them at the tape. "Excuse me - this is a crime scene. You can't enter here."

"We're FBI." Dean said firmly, holding up his badge. Sam did the same and, after a few meaningful looks from them both, Castiel finally held up his as well.

The officer waved them in without hesitance. Thank god you're here - we could use all the help we could get. - you can come in and look around." The officer stifled a yawn. "There are a few more of your men over by the house and I think there are one or two investigating the bank... just ask if you need anything, I guess." He turned to leave and then froze, turning back. "Oh - and I almost forgot. Don't bother asking to see the bodies - they've already been taken down to the morgue for their autopsies."

"Bodies? I am totally going to jail for this." Castiel muttered, as the officer walked away.

Sam frowned. "There were homicides and other unexplained deaths reported on the news, so that's no surprise. I'm more interested in whatever happened to that house or the bank. Heck, its not often you get other FBI members hanging around these crime scenes - particularly in rural areas like this. What could possibly be going on here? This has got to be something massive."

"Well, hey - 'massive' is what happens when you release pre-biblical monsters into the world, I guess." Dean scoffed. "We going to check this out, or what?"

Sam sighed. "Yeah. How about you and Cass go and check out the house and I'll investigate the bank? We can do some poking around, ask a few questions and then meet back here in about two hours or so."

"Yeah, okay." Dean said. "Come on, Cass." He gestured for Castiel to follow him, sighing. He hoped that they could get this whole mess sorted out soon. Or at least that they could find the cause of it - that much would at least put his mind at rest.

The house in question was about a block away.

The police officer sighed. "Listen," he said. "I already had to repeat this twice to the other two agents. Are you sure you wouldn't just prefer to talk it over with them, or...?"

Hardly. Dean gave a polite, fake smile, shaking his head. "Nah, no thanks. I think I'd prefer to hear your side of the story... You know, just in case the information got a little mixed around." Just in case we end up blowing our cover, Dean thought. He pursed his lips, straightening his tie with one hand and letting the other hang freely. The officer opened his mouth to reply but before he could say anything, Dean added, "please. It would mean a lot to us - just tell us what happened to the house and any other information you would happen to know."

"Well, I'll tell you what I told the others." The officer said, scratching his head. "Its quite the puzzle - even we haven't fully figured out how it happened." He looked up at the house that was in front of them. It was scorched black, bits of wood burnt to charcoal and crumbling away at the grain. Even as Dean watched, a loose plank fell from somewhere above him, landing in a pile of ash near the door . Three or four fire trucks were parked out front as well as several more police cars and sure enough, questioning witnesses a little way over were two more FBI agents. Dean swallowed.

"Well, it was a fire - right?" Dean said. He gestured to Castiel. "Why don't you just tell me and my partner what you think caused it, officer?"

The policeman's face crinkled slightly. "Truth be told, I have no idea. What we do know is that two people were inside at the time - Ms. Jean and the man she was seeing, Mr. Flann. Her kids were in the custody of her ex-husband at the time."

"Ex-husband?" Dean inquired. "Who was he?"

"Uh..." The policeman continued to frown. "I think his name was Mr. Lentin? Him and Ms. Jean apparently got a divorce about a month ago."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "I see... And did it ever occur to you that this 'Mr. Lentin' is the one responsible for this?"

"Well, we considered it - but I just don't see how this could be done by one person." The officer shook his head. "I mean, you've got to realize that this isn't something that could have just been done with a simple splash of gasoline - and even that would have been hard to come by in a town this small. No - the town literally burst - and I mean exploded into flames. Its as if the entire thing was fried, instantly, from the inside out. Then you have the little matter of the sworn fact that Mr. Lentin was seen by no less then a dozen people at the time of the arson. He was apparently out at a pub, drinking with some friends - and there's security footage to back that up."

"I see." Dean said. "Is there any way we could speak to their kids?"

"Yeah, they'd be at their step-father's house." The officer shook his head, scribbling on a slip of paper. Moments later, he handed the note to Dean. "Here's the address - You can go and question the three of them if you want, but I wouldn't bother - we already sent agents over there and they seem clean." He let out a long, heavy sigh. "Those poor boys - they must be devastated. I mean... they just lost their entire home and their mother over a freak accident."

Castiel didn't miss the way Dean's eyes darkened or the way his knuckles subtly clenched when he heard those words, nor the emotionless, tight smile that stretched over his face. "... Yeah, I just hate to think about how they'll grow up. Anyway, thank you for your help, officer. I'll be sure to check back if I need anything else." Dean said.

The officer left, the sound of sirens and conversation the only noises that remained in the air. Castiel couldn't help but notice how sad Dean looked, staring up at that house. It were as if that house were the only thing that existed to him - neither his Cass, nor the investigation, nor anything in between mattered to Dean at that moment. His eyes half glistened - as though he wanted to cry but could not, as if he had cried out all of his tears long ago - too long ago to remember what it felt like to cry, or even to experience joy. What could have happened to Dean - this broken shell of a man - to make him how he was? His Dean was always so bright and lively. He couldn't help but wonder... the Dean of this world - had he ever been so happy and energetic? It broke Castiel's heart to think about it - that Dean - any Dean - could ever become such an empty husk. "... Dean?" Castiel timidly reached out a hand, placing it on Dean's shoulder. Almost immediately, he realized his mistake and retracted it, amending the situation with a soft, "sorry... I'm still getting used to this whole 'nothing but friends' thing..."

"No, its okay. I don't care." Dean mumbled. "Its just that this whole scenario... It..." He bit his lip, wrenching his gaze away from the house. "You know what, its nothing. Just forget that I said anything, okay?"

Castiel began to rack his brain, searching for anything that he could use to make Dean open up. Even with different memories, Castiel thought that he knew his Dean enough to communicate with this one. No doubt, this was not the Dean he knew. This one was so cold and harsh - yet if there was even a smidgen of the joyous Dean that Castiel knew within him? He would find it - after all, not everything had to be different, did it?

Something clicked.

It was an unlikely chance - after all, his Dean never talked about it much, nor did he seem very affected by it. Maybe however, just maybe it would work on this Dean. "Is it..." He spoke softly at first, his voice rising as he gained more confidence. "... Is it about your mother?"

The look of contorted horror on Dean's face was enough to tell Castiel he'd struck a nerve. "Dammit, Cass." Dean hissed. His gaze was like steel - hard and sharp, with a deceptively bright shine. "How... how could you possibly know about that? With your memories the way they are, did the one thing that you still remember correctly have to be that?" He dragged his hands down his face, exhaustion evident in the bags beneath his eyes. He gave a long sigh. "Just... drop it, Cass. Please."

Please.

That hadn't been an order. That had been a request. Dean Winchester was begging him not to pursue this any further, to not punch any further holes in the walls he had built, and the ache in Castiel's heart almost made him wish he didn't have to. Instead of obeying Dean's wishes however, Castiel took a deep breath. "The Dean I know, the one from my world - he told me that his mother died because of faulty electrical wiring. He was about six or so when it made the house catch fire and it apparently burnt their entire house down. Sam and him got out okay, as did their dad but..." Castiel swallowed. "Well... you know."

"... It wasn't 'faulty electrical wiring', you know." Dean said, his voice both forced and venomous. "At least, not for me and mybrother."

"What was it then?" Castiel asked. He didn't know if he really wanted to find out.

Dean scoffed, laughing bitterly. "It was a demon." He spat. "And I was there when it pinned her to the ceiling, and I got to watch the flesh peel off her bones."

Castiel froze, a sickening feeling rising up inside of him. "I-I'm s..."

"You're sorry? No. No, you're not." Dean murmured. He stared directly into Castiel's eyes, his gaze burning into him - and for the first time since hell, Dean looked into Castiel's eyes and saw something staring back at him that he had never thought he would see.

A stranger.

"You're right. You aren'tthe Castiel from this universe." Dean shook his head, fury bubbling up inside of him. "Even with his memories as jumbled up as yours are, there is no way Cass would ever do that to me. He would never even mention that night to me- hell, even Sammy knows not to bring that shit up. I know this is most likely some selfish attempt to get me to 'open up' more, to become more like the Dean you know - well just stop. Its never, ever going to happen, do you hear me?" Castiel felt like he had just been crumpled up and stomped on until he was nothing but trash - but Dean wasn't finished with him yet. "I don't wantto move on, Castiel. I will nevermove on. I'm sohappyfor your Dean, that he can just forget about what happened that night and go on with his life but I can't. You know why?Because its my fault. Every person that Sammy and I don't save, every family left broken and torn because we weren't there to help them? All of the people that turned out like us because of us? Did you reallythink that I was going to move on from all of that... just because of some stupid pep-talk you gave me? You obviously know nothing about me - so stop acting like you give a shit."

Dean turned tail, and stormed off towards the Impala.

He could have cared less if Castiel followed him or not.