"Damnedest thing I ever saw," the police chief muttered to Dean, "Vic had a stab wound, but it's not what killed him. It's like his insides were…"

"Vaporized?" Dean finished, "It's been going around." The police chief looked at Dean in confusion. Dean smiled and looked back down at the case file.

"So this guy was a pharmacist from Ohio?"

"Apparently. Total family man, religious. One day, just hops in the SUV, takes off, dies under a bridge here from God knows what. This is his stuff. Help yourselves." Dean took the plastic bags with a nod and the police chief disappeared around the corner. After rummaging through much of the ordinary stuff, Dean flipped through a Bible and then picked up the man's cellphone. He scrolled through tons of horrible songs before coming to a set of podcasts all by the same man.

"Reverend Buddy Boyle," he whispered. He opened one up and it began to play.

"Join me in a heapin' helpin' of glory, friends. When you're in the presence of the divine, you'll know it. And if you let yourself, you'll hear it," Dean skipped ahead to the end of the video. "So," the reverend continued, "Remember, when angels come a-knocking, let 'em on in."

"Shit," Dean muttered, "Damn Reverend's picking up free vessels for those dickheads." Dean slid into the chair beside the desk where he'd dumped the pharmacist's belongings. He pulled up Google on the computer and searched for the Reverend. A map popped up with tiny dots covering almost the entire world.

"Great. Now there's no escape. Cas you better be keeping extra careful." Dean packed up and was about to leave when he caught a glimpse of a man dressed in street clothes, a gold chain draped around his neck. Something about him put Dean on edge but he decided to ignore it and left the station.

His next stop took him to a homeless camp on the outskirts of the city.

"Look, for the billionth time, we're just looking for some information, okay? We're not cops. I'm not a cop. I mean do I look like a cop?" The people had been less than talkative and even now they merely glanced at each other and nodded.

"Well, I'm not," Dean was on his last nerve, "I'm just looking for a friend who's in it deep. Were any of you here the night that guy was killed."

"Maybe," someone finally spoke. A wave of relief washed over Dean.

"Oh. Okay. Uh, he's- he's got dark hair, blue eyes, a little out of it. I think he goes by Clarence."

"Clarence yeah." Dean almost smiled.

"You two talk?"

"Not much." Dean stared at the man waiting for more.

"And?" The relief wave was quickly being pulled back out to sea.

"I think he was on the run." Dean nodded expecting more.

"You see him with the vic-victim?"

"No."

"Okay…" Being tortured to death couldn't be this painful.

"He went to sleep in another part of the resort."

"Where?"

"He's not there now." Dean wanted to take the man by the neck and shake him until the information fell out of him but he closed his eyes and took a breath and thought about what Sam would do.

"Where'd he go?" he asked attempting to smile even.

"I saw him running from under the bridge to the highway." Dean's smile disappeared with each nod of his head.

"You gonna pay me for all this teeth pulling?" he growled, "Where was he headed?"

"He flagged a truck heading north. Detroit, probably."

"Detroit?"

"Truck was marked 'Motor City Meats.'" The man shrugged and headed off. Dean wanted to bang his head on the nearest wall but he felt eyes on him. He glanced behind him but all the other homeless people had disappeared and the place was empty.

Two days had passed since Dean had started his search for Cas and still all he'd found were more dead ends. He did notice something new as he exited the Gas'N'Sip he'd stopped at for beer and pie; the man who he'd noticed at the police station stood at the pay phone pretending to be talking to someone. That's when Dean's suspicions were confirmed. He was being followed. He disappeared down a dark alley and threw his food into a dumpster. With a sad glance back at his pie, he drew his knife from its holster and waited for the other man to round the corner. When he did, Dean lunged at him and pinned him against a wall.

"Why are you following me?" he growled. The man put his hands in the air.

"I'm looking for the angel Castiel." Dean nodded and pulled his hand back. With the hilt of his knife, he knocked the other man unconscious. Thankful for the empty warehouses surrounding them, he dragged his stalker into one and tied him up. He ran back to the Impala to grab as many weapons as he could find then hurried back to where the other man still sat unconscious. He opened a flask of holy water and tossed it into the other man's face. The stalker sputtered but didn't sizzle.

"I'm not a demon," he said. Then he groaned. Dean pulled out his angel blade and held it against the man's throat.

"Then what are you?" The man looked at him but didn't answer. With an angry swipe, Dean cut into the man's shoulder. Bright light as well as blood ran from the cut. Dean wondered for a moment if he'd found one of the fallen angels.

"I'm a reaper," Dean didn't know whether to be relieved or not.

"Why are you looking for Cas?" Dean was confused. And then it occurred to him, if Cas was human and a reaper was looking for him… Dean didn't want to finish the thought, instead he decided to cut deeper into the reaper.

"Is he dead?" Dean choked. The reaper laughed and Dean took another angry swipe at him. His cry of pain made Dean feel a little better and he wiped the blood onto his shirt with a smirk.

"What do you want with Cas?" he said as nonchalantly as he could.

"I'm a bounty hunter. They hired me to find him."

"Who? Naomi?"

"You really are out of the loop. Naomi's dead. Resting in pieces."

"So who's running things then? Huh? Answer!" Dean took another swipe into the reaper's skin.

"Aah!" His scream sounded like music, "Her protégé, Bartholomew. That's all I know!" Dean nodded and cleaned his blade calmly, steadily. The reaper's eyes watched in fear.

"You can kill me. It won't matter. If I don't find Castiel there are others that will. But do what you want."

"Sure." Dean's knife plunged deep into the reaper and Dean relished the feel of it sinking into skin. A burst of light exploded around Dean as blood seeped onto his hands. He pulled the blade out and wiped it again on his shirt. It felt good to get angry, it almost made him forget sadness.

Author's Note: Sorry if this chapter was a little boring. Some of the chapters might be a lot the same as Season 9's episodes than others. Hopefully we'll get to the exciting part soon. Don't give up on me yet.