Title: Angel of Vengeance

Word Count: 3480

Summary: Sam, Dean, and Kate (OC) discover an angel of Vengeance wreaking havoc in a small town. With Cas' help, they go after it. (Some angst in the end.)

Warnings: Nothing worse than the show.

A/N: I love getting feedback, and I promise I will respond! Contact lifeofsnark with comments or questions or just to say hi!

"We have five bodies and no clue what is going on here," complained Dean, staring down at the half eaten burger in front of him. "No EMF in the homes, no sulfur, their hearts were intact, and they all died in different ways. What is going on?"

Sam looked up from his laptop, his salad unopened beside him. "The police don't have anything more than we do- the only things connecting the deaths are that they are just weird."

Kate was standing by the wall to which they had taped pictures and evidence logs and interview quotes. "Okay. Vic one was a priest who was diddling one of the altar boys- he had his throat slit. Vic two was your average stay-at-home mom who accepted eighty thousand dollars in donation money for cancer she didn't have- her neck was broken violently, even the tendons were ripped. Vic three and four both had their insides scorched and their eyes burnt out of their heads- one of them was embezzling from a non-profit and the other was a wife beater. And our most recent victim was gutted after a rape charge."

Sam and Dean swiveled to look at the board; a thoughtful silence fell. "Vics three and four," he paused, "their organs were burnt?"

Kate nodded to him. "They were; some were completely desiccated."

"That's just too strange. We need to look at the bodies again."

"Let's suit up, Agent Banner," Dean said, slapping his brother on the arm.

"I'll wear my scrubs, you can let me in the back once you're in," said Kate.

"Good plan. You're better with the autopsies than Dean," joked Sam, making a retching sound.

"Hey, that guy still had a sandwich in there! I haven't been able to stomach the smell of tuna since!" protested Dean defensively.

Kate snickered. "Uh-huh, sure thing bug guy." The three of them quickly changed and piled into the Impala. Kate slunk around the back of the building while the boys walked to the front desk and flashed their fake IDs.

Sam opened the door for Kate a few minutes later. "Where's Dean?" she asked, quickly ducking into the building behind Sam.

"I think he's setting up a date with the desk lady- he loves playing the noble G-man." Sam answered.

"…so he's getting out of the autopsy," said Kate dryly.

"Pretty much," he replied, flashing his dimples at her. They ducked into the morgue, the stainless steel tables and storage units gleaming dully under the surgical lamps. Kate began pulling labeled organs in Tupperware containers out of the fridge while Sam located the bodies in their respective drawers.

Sam slipped off his jacket and donned a plastic apron. Rolling up his sleeves, he asked, "So why don't you mind this? Poking around dead bodies?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's that I know they are dead, so the body just becomes a jigsaw puzzle. I still hate needles, it doesn't matter what is going on. Ick," she made a face of disgust.

They fell silent, concentrating on their appointed task. Occasionally the body Sam was working on would make a soft squelching sound, or the muscle would tear a bit as he pulled the flesh back. After a few minutes neither of them noticed the scent of alcohol or formaldehyde anymore.

"Do you know anything about hearts?" Kate asked after a moment.

Sam looked up and blew a lock of hair out of his eyes. "Like you need to run and eat more than french fries? Or anatomy?"

Kate laughed. "Anatomy." She carried a heart over to the deep metal sink and rinsed it off with saline solution. Walking to Sam, she held it out, pointing to the bottom chamber. "Look. Is that a muscle scar or …some kind of shape or imprint?" she asked.

Sam took the heart in his bloody, gloved hand and held it close to the light. He sighed heavily. "It's an Enochian symbol of some sort. We've seen something similar by people touched by Cupid, this might be related."

"It's on all the hearts, except one of the badly burned ones- and it might still be under there somewhere. Let's clean up and find Dean." Kate sketched a copy of the sigil while Sam slid the bodies away. They put everything back as they had found it, Sam slipped on his jacket, and they returned to the front. Dean was not in sight.

Sam rolled his eyes and knocked awkwardly on the door behind the reception desk. Dean answered, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand and straightening his navy striped tie with the other. When he caught sight of Kate, he ducked his head and pushed past her out of the door, shoulders hunched. Sam gave him a curious look and followed Dean to the Impala with Kate bringing up the rear.

"We found an Enochian symbol… we think," Sam informed his brother as they pulled out. "It's etched on the hearts."

"Like the cupid thing," Dean interjected.

"Right. So we should probably call Cas…" Sam trails off.

"Who's Cas?" asked Kate, confused. "Is he a hunter?" She'd been with the brothers almost six months and hadn't heard of this person before.

Dean sighed. "He's an angel-"

"An angel. You are friends with an actual angel?"

"Castiel isn't so bad," Dean admitted. "We just haven't heard from him in a while, things are a little hectic in heaven right now."

Kate slumped back and looked out the window. "Right. I'm sure they are."

They arrived back at the hotel. Kate sat quietly on the rollaway bed, Sam leaned against the walls with his arms crossed, and Dean huffed and bowed his head. "Dear Castiel," he started out, his voice full of sarcasm, "we've found a serial killer leaving behind Enochian symbols on the bodies. So if you could get your feathery ass down here," he looked sideways like he was expecting someone, "I would maybe dislike you a little less," he finally finished.

There was an awkward pause.

A man in a wrinkled trench coat and appeared in the corner of the room, his tie backwards and his hair mussed as though he dressed in a great hurry. "Who is she? Should I smite her?" He approached Kate, palm outstretched. She jumped off the bed, knife in hand.

"No no no!" Dean ran into the middle of the room, arms out like a referee. "Cas, this is Kate. She's living and hunting with us. She's a friend. Kate, this is Cas."

The tension level in the cramped motel room dropped a notch. "Where is the symbol?" the angel asked, his voice gravelly. Sam passed him the sketch.

"This is an Enochian symbol for vengeance. These people were smited by a lower order of angel."

"Smited?" asked Sam. "So some angel decided to get even with them and just ended it all?"

"Yes." Castiel nodded. "Deuteronomy 32: 35. Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. In due time their foot will slip; their day of disaster is near and their doom rushes upon them."

Kate scowled. "So much for forgiveness," she muttered, turning away.

Castiel continued, "These angels were tasked with carrying out the Lord's justice. Some now call them Karma. With all of the dissention amongst the heavenly ranks, the orders have stopped being sent out… this angel is trying to carry on his task."

"An angel of vengeance," said Dean flatly. "Son of a bitch."

"So how do we find it? Can you just tell it to stop?" Sam asked.

"This angel has killed humans that were not earmarked by the Lord. He must be stopped or returned to heaven." Castiel intoned.

"So we are back to trying to find it," Sam persisted. "It could be anywhere. Be anyone!"

"I can see its true form if it makes an appearance," said Castiel. Kate was getting used to his formal speech and flat monotone.

"We need to scout the town gossips," Kate suggested. "All of these people were killed for committing some crime that people just can't accept. The town gossips always know who is fucking whom."

"That's a good idea. Sam can do his puppy dog thing, and Kate can flirt it out of them," Dean said.

"Right," Kate drawled. "Because I am the one known for being so flirtatious." She glared at Dean.

Sam stepped in. "Look, Dean and I will go to the local bars and diners and ask the bartenders and waitresses. They've always got something. You and Cas need to go hang out somewhere busy to see if you can spot the angel."

"Agreed." Castiel stepped forward and wrapped his hand around Kate's upper arm. Suddenly, they were in a public park on a cold cement bench. Joggers ran by, ipods strapped to their arms or waists. Mothers pushed strollers, toddlers laughed and swung on a playground. It looked like every day, small-town America.

"Where are we?" Kate rounded on Castiel, not used to being transported in a blink.

"A park on the outskirts of a residential district. We are looking for the angel," Castiel responded slowly.

"Could you warn me next time you decide to just zap us somewhere? Humans don't travel like that!" She paced away from Castiel's seat.

"Yes. It took you thousands of years to even invent transportation. Most of my brothers in the pool thought you'd be much more efficient."

"You were around in the beginning? And you bet on us?" Kate gaped.

"Yes. Balthazar won that wager. He said you were not terribly bright." He stood up suddenly, watching a man in a business suit and dark fedora walk by. "That is him." He fell in step behind the suited man, Kate scrambling to catch up.

She pulled out her phone and hit Dean on speed dial. "We've got him," she said shortly. "Any idea who he's going after?"

"Not yet. Let us know where he goes." She ended the call.

They trailed the angel through town following behind him for several yards. Castiel seemed totally intent on the task at hand, he was oblivious to everything else, his blue eyes focused on the back of the rouge angel in front of him.

Eventually, the angel turned into an older colonial on a quiet, shady street. Kate and Castiel stopped at the bottom of the steps, looking up. "Can you tell if there is anyone else inside?" Kate asked the quiet angel beside her.

He flickered and then turned to Kate. "He is alone. But he is watching, if we go in now he will flee." Kate quickly texted the address to Sam, hoping he could run it to find the owner.

Kate and Cas slipped into an alley across the street, keeping an eye on the looming colonial in which the angel hid. Kate sat down cross-legged, her back against the bricks. After a while, she asked, "Does this bother you? Hunting down an angel?"

"It must be done," he replied simply.

"But it doesn't bother you?" Kate asked again. Castiel sat next to her, his knees drawn up, short silver dirk held loosely in his right hand.

"I do not get to choose my path. I do not make the rules. The orders are heavenly," he said slowly. "Humans are… to be protected." He looked at Kate, blue eyes unblinking. It was a bit startling. "You were thought to be the world's greatest resource. Angels were set with the task of protecting you. We soon learned that sometimes that meant protecting you from yourselves."

The conversation lulled. Kate thought of all the horror she had seen in her short time on earth- it was amazing the misery humans could inflict on each other- the supernatural could only account for a small percentage of overall suffering.

"Humanity still astounds me," Castiel intoned.

"Me too," Kate interjected. "We don't need demons to make bad decisions; we don't need any help hurting one another."

"That is true, but not what I was speaking of. Humans are amazing in their capacity to feel and to give. Sam and Dean were willing to endure eternal damnation to stop the rest of humanity from experiencing the apocalypse." He turned to Kate again. "During humanities' darkest hours, it is always another human who triumphs and saves all. I still believe that you are my Father's greatest creation."

The silence between them was broken by the ringing of Kate's phone. "Hey, Sam," she answered. "Okay. If we see him, we'll detain him. Get here quick." She hung up and stuck the phone back in her jacket pocket.

"The owner of the house is a man by the name of Lee Abrams. He was charged with brutally murdering his pregnant wife, but the charges were dropped when a key witness went missing. He's coming home sometime today. According to Sam, he looks like the average businessman. That's just helpful," she informed Cas.

"If his soul is dark enough, I will sense him," Castiel stated, rising. They watched the peaceful sidewalk and street, waiting for the telltale growl of the Impala's engine. Eventually, Dean and Sam rolled into sight and parked on the street. "Have you seen him yet?" asked Sam.

"No," said Kate tersely.

"We need to wait until Abrams is in view," said Castiel. "Otherwise Vengeance will flee, and only I will be able to follow."

The four climbed into the Impala and waited. The shadows lengthened, and eventually darkness fell. Dean fell asleep slumped against the window, snoring softly. Sam occasionally fidgeted, trying to fold his legs into a more comfortable position. Kate sat with her legs curled on the seat; Castiel stared out the window with a predator's lethal gaze. As the night ticked on, Kate leaned towards Castiel. "Do all of the angel sigils and wards work on this angel as they would any other?" she whispered quietly.

"Yes. They are equally effective on all angels," he whispered back.

Early in the morning, long after the street had fallen completely quiet, a man turned the corner and started down their street. He was briefly illuminated by the cone of yellow light under the distant streetlight, enough for Kate to catch a glimpse of short dark hair and a dark suit. He walked down the sidewalk, a darker shape in the gloom of the night. Castiel leaned forward. "That is him," he murmured huskily. Sam shook Dean awake and replied, "We'll go around back."

Cas and Kate quietly followed Abrams down the sidewalk and up his porch. Castiel had his silver blade gripped tightly, knuckles almost bloodless. He threw open the front door and touched his first two fingers to the startled man's forehead-Abram's eyes rolled back and he thudded to the floor.

Another man appeared in the room out of nothing- "Brother," he greeted Castiel. "Allow me to complete my work and we can go on our way." The Winchesters thundered into the room from the back hall, guns drawn.

"You are not following orders. You are smiting humans without approval from your superiors." Castiel told Vengeance, shifting his weight.

"The orders stopped, brother- thanks to you!" the other angel waved his weapon in Castiel's direction. "You stopped Raphael, stopped everything."

"And now I will stop you," Castiel said without emotion. He lunged at his heavenly brethren, knocking him to the floor. Vengeance punched Cas's jaw, throwing him off balance enough for Vengeance to get loose. The both staggered to their feet, breathing hard. Vengeance tried to lunge past Castiel, but the trench-coat clad angel spun lethally, tossed his weapon to the other hand, and stabbed it through Vengeance's throat.

Vengeance sputtered, his mouth and eyes lighting up a brilliant white-blue, his fingers scrabbling at Castiel's wrist. Castiel yanked the blade from Vengeance's body, and the angel fell to the floor, the lights emanating from his body going out. Kate blinked, scorched into the wood floor and plaster walls were great black wings, each feather smoldering and distinct.

Cas took a deep breath and faced the Winchesters. "I will return his body to heaven." Grasping the fallen angel's arm, he nodded to Kate and disappeared.

Kate blinked, and walked to the unconscious man. Nudging him with the toe of her boot she asked, "So what do we do with this?"

"He's human, Kate. We have to leave him," said Sam, moving towards the door. "It isn't our call."

They piled into the Impala and made the relatively short drive back to the bunker. After unloading the car, Dean stayed in the garage to tinker with his Baby. Sam and Kate hit the kitchen, sitting down to a late dinner.

"I think that was hard for Castiel," she said conversationally. "Having to kill a fellow angel."

"I think it was," Sam agreed. "Cas is unique, he really feels deeply about his purpose. So he feels regret when something goes wrong, especially if he thinks he could have changed the outcome somehow."

Things were quiet for a moment. Kate always felt at ease with Sam. The two of them could sit in the library reading with each other for hours, the peace only disturbed by the soft rustle of a turning page.

Kate swallowed and looked across the table at the younger Winchester, a man who had been through so much. She admired him for his resilience and his strength, but mostly for his faith. His hope that one day, life would be better.

"Sam…" she cleared her throat. He looked up, his hazel eyes meeting her own. "What keeps you going? I know you think things will get better eventually, that you can see the light up ahead, but, well, what is it? What is it you look forward to so much?"

She dropped her gaze to the table.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, well. I guess I look forward to being able to stop moving. To see Dean put down roots somewhere, have a garage of his own to tinker in. Maybe find a nice girl and not always be looking over my shoulder. To write it all down, everything we've learned, and pass it on to the next batch of hunters."

Kate smiled a little smile to herself. Both of the brothers couldn't imagine themselves without the other one; their perfect future was the two of them together. For her part, she couldn't imagine them apart either.

"What about you?" Sam asked, cocking his head quizzically. "What do you look forward to? Do you want a white picket fence, kids?"

Kate shrugged uncomfortably. "I used to want the house and life thing. I loved the idea of making myself a cozy little place to be safe and home. I wasn't sure about kids, I didn't have the best example of a mom. It's a lot of responsibility." She flicked her gaze to Sam, then let her eyes roam over the kitchen, not focusing on any one thing. "Now I mostly look forward to the little things. Clean sheets, hot showers. Reading a book all the way through between cases, having a kitchen to cook in. I don't see much beyond that."

Sam stood, carrying his plate to the sink. "I think you will see further someday." He squeezed Kate's shoulder as he passed. "But for now, just keep hanging on. I like having you here, and I know you've been good for Dean." He set his plate down and walked out of the room, innately graceful for a man of his size.

Kate stayed at the table for a few minutes wondering if Sam was right. If one day she would be able to picture herself living the 'apple pie' life. Shaking her head over her own wishful thinking, she washed the few dishes and wiped down the counters. On the way to her room, she saw Dean drinking in the library.

He was sitting in profile to her, back-lit by the lamp on the table next to him. A cut-glass tumbler hung loosely in his fingers; his hands were still smudged with traces of oil and brake dust from his efforts in the garage, his nails cut down short, but always scrubbed clean.

Kate padded into the library and took the glass from Dean's hand. She gulped down the contents and passed it back to him, situating herself against the front of his chair, her back against his legs. His hand came to rest on the top of her head and she closed her eyes. They didn't need to say anything, not here between themselves. They both knew that living was harder some nights than others; that inexplicably, the darkness was able to absorb just a little more of the light; that even with the same amount of time, morning could feel so impossibly far away. So they kept vigil for each other through the night, tenuously linked together, comforted by each other's presence.