Notes: HI GUYS! I'm not dead, just trying to find my feet as I set up my "I just graduated college" life. Lived on a ranch with no internet for three months, now back in NY, new job, new boyfriend, living in a new state, paying bills for the first time, yeah. It's been "real". I am so sorry to have made y'all wait so long, but I'm going to try tossing out some chapters again! So excited to finish up this series! However, still a long ways to go. From the looks of it this episode will be one of my longest yet. Hang in there guys! Love you all! And thanks for all of you who checked in with me as I did my invisible act. I am in fact alive and well and ready to give again! :D

Disclaimer: Even with paying my taxes like a good girl, I still down own anything here. Damn.


CHAPTER 4

The clunk of the shoes on his feet was very unpleasant. They seemed to catch on every stone and pebble and get sucked into every mud patch. For the life of him, Castiel did not understand why people insisted on wearing shoes. Their function was sound in that they protected the skin of the soles from sharp objects, but if people took the time to grow callous then there wouldn't be concern for that in the first place. Animals were just fine without the toe confining foot boxes.

Despite sharing this thought with Dean, the Captain had told him that he couldn't go barefoot and then had to forcibly tie them onto Cas' feet. The only compromise he would allow was that Cas didn't have to wear socks. An error Cas was now regretting as the sharp edges of the oversized dress shoes he was borrowing from Balthazar were cutting into his ankles.

However, no matter how much it hurt him, Castiel would not stop now to try and heal them. He was on a mission. He was playing a very important role in the heist and he would not let the crew down, especially because he had insisted on having this role instead of being used as the assassin for this task.

He trudged along through the streets, trying his best to keep his confident look, to stay on target, but those souls of the factory workers around him were like dark shadows falling over his eyes and almost blinding him from his goal. The despair of this city was more suffocating than he could ever remember feeling before, and it had felt like years since Castiel had tasted the fresh free air of a planet.

The gate finally came into view. A heavenly looking pearly gate amongst dark and stormy clouds, even if it actually held nothing besides corrupt and misguided plagues. It was time.

Castiel shifted the briefcase from one sweaty hand to his other and walked right up to the entrance.


"That trenchcoat really sells this whole thing doesn't it? It's like it was meant to be or something."

Dean rolled his eyes at Gabriel's voice in his ear, but he had to agree that the coat added a certain flare to the get-up. Thankfully the pilot couldn't see him and was still on the ship monitoring the happenings from where he and Chuck had patched themselves in to the cortex network of security cameras. The Captain sighed and tapped at the radio in his ear, "Let's just hope it distracts from his other "unique" characteristics….This is a really stupid idea and can only end in really awkward or really bad shit. Is it too late to call back the dogs?"

"Hey. I was the one who suggested Balthazar play the role of the distraction. But maybe being psychic will give him a leg up in this?" said Sam hopefully next to Dean and Meg. The three of them were huddled behind a corner in one of the very few empty alleys that didn't contain a man waiting in the shadows for a few pennies to steal. From where they were they had not only a clear view of the gates (Dean had insisted that they be close by if things went south with Cas fast) as well as a clear shot of the east wall where they were to climb over if this actually played out right.

Once again Dean sighed and turned his attention to the gate where Cas had just arrived and was now knocking gently on the metal bars.

"Who's idea was it to use "the salesman" plan of attack?"


Once again Castiel shifted the case in his hands as he waited at the gate. From a distance he could see two curious and perhaps slightly cautious guards start to inch towards the entrance, spotting the young man in the trenchcoat.

There were six guards that were posted in the areas that Dean and the others would need to move through undetected, so it was their hope to at least draw the attention of half of them in order for the brothers and Meg to "incapacitate" the remaining guards. The more that were focused on Cas, the less they would have to take care of.

Cas kept this in mind as he saw the first two move to about ten feet from the entrance and stand before him, beefy arms crossed over their chests as they regarded him. For a moment they all just stood there staring at each other, analyzing every bit of them. As gently as possible, no more than a mere brush of his tendrils and Cas was ready.

There was a small crackle of static in his earpiece and Dean's voice came echoing through, "Might wanna say something, Cas, before they send out an alarm." That's when Cas noticed the bigger man's hand start traveling down to his side where a radio was clipped.

"Any time now, Cas…"

As soon as Dean signed off, Castiel met their eyes and his blank expression split into an alarmingly bright and perhaps overly friendly smile.

"Hello fellow humans. My name is John Dunne and I'm here to talk to you about a product that I think might interest you and any familial unit that you might have," he said brightly, being sure to keep the smile on his face even though his cheeks were starting to hurt. Balthazar had insisted that smiling would help.

The bigger of the two snorted and his hand lay limp at his side, no longer going for the radio. The smaller of the two seemed less amused and moved a few feet closer, his eyes squinted and nose scrunched as if Castiel smelled bad or hurt his face. Cas wasn't really sure.

"The boss ain't interested in whatever it is you're selling, boy." he informed sternly, but Cas saw his eyes trail curiously to the case in his hands. This would be a tough sell, but the young Novak was ready for it.

He smiled sadly at both of them and nodded in understanding, "Of course," he said quietly while letting his eyes trail over the two of them. He had done this many times with Dean and the Captain had started to call it his "soul search look" or "the creepy thing you do when you're trying to find out what someone is thinking". It was about to come in handy.

Both men were slowly turning away from Castiel, but he called out gently to their backs.

"It must be hard to work for a man so rich when you're family is struggling to purchase flour for bread."

Both men turned back slightly and Castiel pushed on.

"It must also be hard to find peace in a place like this, surrounded by so much misery and anger. I find myself wondering sometimes how people can exist in such a state, that their lives are such that they are and that I still call it a life. Tell me, do you attend church?"

The crunch of gravel was heard as the two guards walked back up to the gate, shaking their heads hesitantly. Trap set.


"I can't believe what I'm listening to."

"Dean, you've said that like five times already."

"Well I still can't believe it. I mean….how the hell…?"

From the ground Meg tossed a rock in boredom as Sam and Dean spoke, sneering at the both of them, "The freak is you're little pet project. You didn't expect something like this?"

The Captain turned back to where Castiel had engaged five of the six guards so far as he talked to them about the wonders of God and the peace found in church going. All he had to do was talk in his rough entrancing low voice as he spoke with passion and soon the two guards had been awed enough that it looked like one of them might even cry. And of course the others had also heard some of the conversation and were drawn like moths, drawn to Cas like a freaking light bulb.

Sam was thinking there had to be some sort of mojo thing going on, and Dean almost agreed if not for knowing first hand how entrancing Cas could be at times. Gabriel however was moaning and groaning over the radios as time continued on. The trap had been set almost half an hour ago and Cas had still not given them the signal to move in. Granted there was still one guard left, but they would wait for the signal like the plan stated.

Gabriel's voice whined over the radios again, "He never talked this much before. Why start now?!"


"You mustn't let yourselves, soul and body, be consumed by this planet. You must learn to love again. Love life and yourselves."

The sound of a nose being blown from one of the last guards to arrive was where Castiel looked them all in the eyes again, all of them shining a bit, red even for a few.

Sniff

"That was beautiful. We'll do that, we promise," the original guard said and Castiel knew he wasn't lying. At least there would be some good coming from this.

Cas smiled at them all, "Yes, church can be a good home for those who are in a struggle to accept their life as it is. Sadly, so few people go now. That is why I am….going door to door looking to sell some products so that all proceeds can go towards buying new bibles."

All of their heads shot up and a few hands flew to their pants to feel for their wallets. There was nothing quite like a bit of soul wrenching to get people to loosen their pocketbooks.

"What are you selling?" asked the biggest man, his eyes wide and eager.

Castiel smiled and pulled out his briefcase, casting a glance over to where the last guard on the grounds was now gazing over curiously, and then he pulled out his display products.

"What I have here are some of the most useful things that any family should have. They are sturdy. They are reliable. Easily cleaned and come in any assortment of color."

"…plastic dishware?"

"Not just any plastic dishware. This kind is capable of withstanding high frequency pitches that would shatter any glass or ceramic dishes that most people use. I have tested it myself many times."

Castiel made sure that he was still smiling and then he noticed the last guard finally walk towards them and Cas greeted him with a nod and handed him one of the cups to inspect while handing the others various plates or bowls.

The last guard rolled the cup in his hands slowly before looking up at Cas, "Are these microwave safe?"


"There it is! That's the signal," Dean said quickly as he saw Cas flap the side of his coat slightly, and jumped to his feet after having finally sat down after waiting so long.

Both Sam and Meg did the same and blew out a harsh breath. Looks like they wouldn't need Meg to take out any remaining guards after all.

"Can't believe that worked," Sam mumbled to himself, more in awe than in confusion Dean noted proudly, but now was not the time for teasing. It was their turn now and they all got in to position.

Like squirrels darting across the street, they all ran up to the wall that stretched around the entire estate. It was a normal stone wall, all shaven and sanded so that there were no grips, and two lines of sharp electrical wire were strung about six inches from the top of the wall, but that was no problem for them.

Sam was first to reach the wall, his long legs letting him practically glide over the short street. Once at the wall he crouched down and laced his fingers together at level with his knees. Not stopping for even a second, Meg ran right up to the younger Winchester and placed one small foot in his cupped hands and let him propel her up the wall and held her at level with the wires.

Bobby had packed them a sweet little bag of tools, one of which was a rubber handled wire cutter. Another was a clever little device that Chuck used for when he was working on live wires. It would continue to circulate the current of the wire as if it wasn't cut at all. Normally it was meant to keep the ship from having a hissy fit when an important system was disturbed, but in this case it was far more useful to keep any alarms from going off.

Meg quickly set up the small device and then cut away the wires, just big enough to fit all of their frames and hopefully not draw attention to the gaping hole above the wall any time soon. At least Cas now had each and every guard checking out their dishes.

As soon as Meg was done, she glanced down at the brothers and winked before hopping down on the other side. The other side of the wall, Sam once again cupped his hands and Dean was next to pull himself up on the wall, only turning to give Sam and hand up before the two of them followed Meg to the ground.

"Okay, Gabe. We need the pattern settings. You ready?"

"Always ready for you Sam….okay. On the count of two I want you guys to head to the right of those rose bushes. You need to be past them in ten seconds. Then you will wait at the pine tree for five seconds. Then you make a mad dash to the building. Dongma?"

Sam and Meg grunted their affirmation, but Dean crinkled his nose in confusion, "Count of two? Why not three?"

"Because I'm a very impatient person. Now pay attention. Okay. One…TWO!"

Sam kept an audible count going under his breath so that the three of them were in sync as they ran along the bushes. It wasn't a particularly long row of flowers, so they had no trouble reaching the end before the end of the ten seconds.

At the pine tree, Dean stole one last glance over his shoulder to where Cas was still captivating his audience. Cas seemed to sense the attention and for only a millisecond he glanced over to Dean and met his eyes, only enough time before Sam nudged Dean along and they ran the rest of the way to the building that held the gallery.

The building itself was rather beautiful if you liked looking at architecture. It was fashioned after ancient colonial housing estates, but they knew not to trust the seemingly old and simple house. This thing was packed with security, but thankfully that wouldn't be too much of a problem for the crew as Chuck and Gabriel had jammed most of the cameras and alarms already.

Reaching the back door they could see that it appeared to be wooden, but the intel they had said it was only plated in wood and the center was a nice alloy metal. It would take several minutes and a very loud tool in order to cut through it. That's where Gabriel and Chuck came in.

"Okay. Once you've finished with the green wire, you need to grab the yellow and splice it with the blue. From there you just hit the blue button and you're in."

Sam followed each step as Gabriel relayed them into his ear, carefully moving each wire in such a way that it wouldn't brush up against any other sparking plugs on accident. His painstakingly attentive work was rewarded when they all heard the click of the door unlocking.

Now it was Dean's turn to step forward, but he didn't enter the building just yet. Instead he turned to Sam.

"Uh, you keep your eyes open, okay? Cas isn't too far away if you get into trouble. Just….holler if you have to," he said awkwardly, scratching at the back of his neck.

"I second this motion!" Gabriel shouted over the radios.

Sam would have loved to tease his older brother and Gabriel for their obvious protectiveness, but now wasn't the time. He just nodded and clapped Dean on the shoulder and nudged them inside.

"Don't worry. I'll keep this door secure. You just get us that nice big pay check."


There was an odd feeling that Dean had deep down in his chest, a feeling that something would go wrong. Of course, when had anything not gone wrong on a heist? This was just normal for them and he and his crew would handle whatever was thrown their way like they always did. This was just how they did things.

Still, as Meg and Dean ran up the stairs to the gallery, he just couldn't quell that nervous bubble of acid in the pit of his stomach.

They both reached the door and the Captain pulled out his radio, "Okay, Gabe. We're at the door."

"Roger that, Cap! All you gotta here is hold up that pretty little emitter Bobby and Sam created and press the red button. That will deliver a frequency that will jam the interior camera on the gallery."

Following the instructions they did just that and then quickly opened the door up to step into an incredibly fancy gallery. There were paintings hung in ornate and shiny frames, fresh flowers in very expensive looking vases in between each display, and of course right where Cas had said it was, was the painting.

Ignoring all other artwork, pottery, and the now jammed camera in the room, they both walked right up to their target and together pulled the frame from the wall.

Dean glanced down at it as he held the frame steady for Meg to take out the piece. He was no art critic, but he could appreciate this painting. Up close he could see how a single brush stroke from this painter carried several colors working seamlessly to create the characters in his work. What really struck him was the artists' choice of topic. It was a tree with large branches, lush with leaves and two young boys sleeping in the shade. The blue of the sky and the fluffiness of the clouds was so real it was almost like looking at a photo of one of those paradise planets that rich people lived on. It was stunning in its accuracy and simplicity.

"Better Times, huh?" he whispered to himself as he thought about the title of the art. If only he and Sam had better times like that.

Once Meg had removed the piece, she rolled it up and started to stuff it down the protective tube that she had slung over her shoulder. They had what they came for, time to go.

Lifting the radio back up to his lips, Dean called out to his crew, "Okay, guys. Milk is in the jug. We're moving into phase three."

Gabriel's voice was the only one to call back an affirmative, which was a little odd, but there was nothing to do about it at the moment. Phase three was getting their collective thieving asses back to the Impala before they were noticed. Easy enough. Dean and Meg started down the stairs and headed towards the ground level where Sam would be waiting at the door for them.


After bidding goodbye to his customers, and also selling a few pieces of dishware, Castiel started to make his way back to the alley where he was supposed to meet up with Dean and the others. As he walked, Castiel had a certain proud expression on his face for not only doing his part in the heist, but also earning them about $30 platinum from his sales. That was enough for a decent meal or two for the crew, and it made him feel warm inside that he could help for once without violence.

He had just stepped into the shadow of the alley when something wrenched at his brain and made his stomach turn. Falling to his knees, Castiel started to gasp for breath as he sorted through whatever could have given him this response. Then he realized what must have happened. Castiel's fragile emotions cracked as he thought of what this meant and he curled up there on the ground, not caring about the mud that was soaking into his coat and tried to calm his racing heart.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. Oh, please no."


Dean swung open the door on the bottom floor and walked out with a half grin. The bubbling in his stomach had only gotten worse the further down the stairs he and Meg had come and now, even with their prize safely in hand, Dean couldn't slap on his normal shit eating grin.

Then that half smile fell completely when he glanced around at the quiet and empty grove before them.

He felt like he was going to throw up.

"Where's Sam?"


Yay! It's a chapter! *proud face* Hope you enjoyed guys. I'll be working on the next chapter tomorrow :)