Castiel started the car and drove. Hannah rested the hand holding her blade on her knee, angled at Castiel.

"The first month that I was in Hell," she said, "I was suspended in the infernal emptiness with cables running through my body, in one hand and out the opposite foot. I couldn't understand how I could feel so much pain if I was dead, how I could even have a body if I was dead. I screamed and screamed. Did you go through that? Do you remember?"

Castiel gave a slight nod.

"No one came. No demons, no – nothing. Just me, surrounded by darkness and noise and flashes of light, pain that never stopped, never let up, and completely alone. I thought that was all of Hell. I pleaded, I offered anything if someone would release me, or just – show themselves. And finally I realized, this was all. No fellow prisoners, no rescue, never any end to the pain, no hope. I grew to accept it. And then one day, suddenly, I wasn't impaled by cables. I was stretched out on a rack. And the – thing standing over me said, 'You probably think this is a relief.' It laughed."

All the way to the mansion, in a quiet intense tone that shook only occasionally, Hannah described what she had been through at the hands of the infernal torturers – degradation, humiliation, moments of feigned sympathy followed by increased cruelty, illusions of escape and peace broken by unbelievable agony, unrelieved by death, unrelieved by numbness, a magically restored body subjected to mutilating torture for days on end, weeks on end, months on end, years on end, decades on end.

Dean swallowed down nausea. His only consolation was that Devin and Inzur weren't enjoying the recital any more than he was. They kept exchanging looks, then looking away, as though they were trying to escape their own memories.

Cas pressed the keypad code on the security gate, put his hand immediately back on the steering wheel, and drove to the front door. As he did so the door opened, and Lina and Frederic emerged.

Hannah stepped out of the car. "Was everyone else willing to leave for the night?"

"Everyone but Ricardo," Lina said. "But I told him that the request came directly from Castiel, and then he agreed."

Hannah sighed, shook her head. "He'll have to get over that. The human's in the back, I want him completely surrounded. I'll follow with Castiel. Interrogation room."

Devin pulled Dean's arm. He got out of the car, and the four others formed a tight, armed circle around him. They walked inside as Hannah circled the car and opened the driver's door, putting her blade away to do it.

Castiel looked like an old man bent and crippled by arthritis. He struggled out of the car and stood, looking at Hannah, the corners of his eyes creased.

"Is that sympathy?" Hannah was trying to keep her voice even and cool, and failing. "Sympathy for me? Is that something your human taught you, along with a weak-armed gentle embrace and the murders of your colleagues?"

She pushed him aside, slammed the car door, stood in front of him. "If I don't come downstairs with you, your human will be killed. Even if you try to make an attack, they know that the priority is to murder the human before fighting back against you. You cannot leave with him. But your hands are free. No one else is here. You can destroy me. You will have a car and your powers, you'll be free to escape. Your connection to this – animal will be broken, and you can begin to recover yourself."

She stood close in front of him, put her arms around his neck, untied the belt gagging him and tucked it in his coat pocket, looking in his eyes the while. She stepped back. "Please make it quick."

Castiel shook his head.

"Why?" Perhaps she had sounded like that on the rack in Hell. "Why? Sympathy for me? Love for that animal? Do you want to die with him? Why?"

Castiel was quiet. "I think you understand, Hannah. I think the pain of understanding is wracking you already."

She dropped her head.

Then she raised it and straightened her back. Her eyes were black. "You can't be a demon with human failings, Castiel. You have to make a choice."

She pulled her blade again. "Interrogation room. Let's get this horror over with."

Parcell had apparently just joined the others in the interrogation room. As Dean was brought in, Parcell was saying, " – must be joking, I wouldn't miss this for the whole netherworld!"

"I recognize you," Dean said, as casually as though he weren't standing between two armed demons with a third and fourth behind him. "Day of the bombing, I was on a hill overlooking the house."

Parcell's face lost its amusement. "Were you?"

Dean raised his hands. "That was all Hex and Lester. I was just there trying to memorize you guys, your cars. If I'd known half of you would be dead in fifteen minutes, I wouldn't have bothered. But I saw that bomb go off, with Cas safely outside the house and Lester pulling him to get him away. And I saw him go back inside and help you out."

"It was actually due to my aide that I lived through that, but I must say – Oh, I see!" Parcell's eyes went wide. "You're trying to appeal to my gratitude! Because you think that a demon has any!"

He and Lina laughed outright; Devin, Inzur, and Frederic grinned.

"Don't talk to this thing, Parcell," Hannah said as she brought Castiel into the room at swordpoint. "Castiel, walk into the devil's trap."

It was the same one, scorched into the ceiling, where Castiel had reduced Vulcan to lumps of carbon six days before. The floor had been cleaned since.

"Don't," Dean said roughly. "They're going to kill us anyway, no use making it easy for them."

Hannah grabbed Inzur's gun and shot.

Everyone jumped, looked around.

There was a bullet hole in the drywall behind Castiel, about two inches to his right. Dean couldn't help looking a little impressed.

"If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead now," Hannah said, returning Inzur's gun. "Go."

Castiel hobbled under the devil's trap. Dean studied the markings on the ceiling.

"You, too," Hannah said.

At gunpoint, Dean joined Cas – looking puzzled, because of course the trap had no power over him. Inzur moved right up to the border of the trap, keeping his gun on Dean.

"Do you know why I said what I did when we were driving here?"

"I presume," Castiel said, "to remind me of the fate that awaits me when you arrange for my exorcism."

"Yes."

Castiel raised his head, as clearly painful as that was. "This is an overreaction to foolish behavior on my part. Yes, I released Dean that first night. I found him attractive. Yes, I have been intimate with a human. I'm scarcely the first to have done this. And it doesn't implicate me – or Dean – in any of the murders that have taken place recently. You heard Lester say that he was conspiring with Hex to attain power. I fear, Hannah, that you are not – fully objective in this matter. Your personal hatred for my lover makes you believe me capable of the worst kinds of treachery."

"Your 'lover'?" Hannah sounded like she was about to vomit. "You're not capable of love, Castiel. You've forgotten what you are. He's made you forget. He has dragged you into his cesspool of humanity, emotion and – and sex and filth and wallowing like pigs. And yes, treachery. He lured you into thinking that you were helping him and his kind, these parasites that think they deserve to rule Earth. You let him do what he wanted to other demons, as long as he would let you do what you want to him."

"Neither of us had anything to do with – "

"I haven't heard that – " Hannah pointed at Dean – "speak more than five sentences, and even with the electronic alteration, I can tell that's your hitman. The one who killed Lester with a tempered jawbone, perhaps one week after a jawbone went missing from Mr. Vincent's personal armory. Inzur, who had access to that armory?"

"Mr. Vincent, of course. Mrs. Vincent. Edward Vincent. And Castiel."

"Did Hex or Lester have access?"

"No, ma'am. Mr. Vincent barely even knew who Lester was. He liked how vigorously Hex performed his personal missions, but he didn't trust Hex with unfettered access to an armory."

"Devin? The gun that you took from this thing?"

"Had angel-blade bullets."

"Parcell, how did Vulcan die?"

"Quickly. I will say that Castiel tortured him well, but once he had the information he wanted, he should have sent Vulcan back to the infernal torturers for his part in murdering three of us. Instead, he burned him in a flash. Mercifully. Like a sympathetic human."

"And?"

"And," Parcell pointed, "I saw Castiel's boy-toy pretending to be a gardener outside of Malazir's house, the day of her death."

No one else besides Hannah had heard that yet. Lina gasped, Devin looked in astonishment at Parcell, Castiel froze. Dean tried to look like Parcell was making up a ridiculous fairy tale.

Hannah's voice was steel. "Like Vulcan, you deserve to be sent back to the torture chambers, Castiel. But – I probably shouldn't – but I'm taking into account the pernicious effect this creature has had on you, twisting your infernal spirit. Under certain circumstances, I will let you live. This – " she pointed to the devil's trap above – "will be your home. You will remain here considering the crimes you've committed against us. We will bring you food and water, eventually some books. Eventually you will be asked for your advice, and we'll see if you're as helpful then as you were to Mr. Vincent. We will tell everyone outside of this room that you've taken a long trip, recruiting others to fill the gaps created by the recent murders, but that you are communicating with me by telephone or internet. Eventually, when you've proven that you've purged the human corruption from your system, you will be released. It will not be a comfortable existence, but I think we can agree that it's better than centuries with the eternal torturers."

"No question," Castiel said. His voice was a little hoarse. "But you said – under certain circumstances."

Hannah turned her angel blade, extending the hilt over the invisible perimeter of the devil's trap. Castiel took it and four of the other demons raised their weapons, glancing at each other and at Hannah. Parcell just tilted his head a little, smiling as if entertained.

"We will allow you to live," Hannah said, "if you kill this thing. You must make a choice between Hell and humanity, Castiel. If you cannot kill it, we will do that, and then send you back to Hell. But I believe in your infernal spirit, Castiel. Plunge the blade into him, and you will have taken your first step toward redeeming yourself."

The blade trembled a little, but Castiel's gaze was unwavering. "This is cruel."

"Of course it is. Hell is cruel. Existence is cruel. Demons are cruel. Claiming to be someone's close adviser and conspiring to kill him is cruel." She took a breath. "And none of them will be as cruel as the death that human will have if I'm allowed to kill him."

Castiel bent a little as a wave of pain racked him.

Then he turned to face Dean. "Please kneel."

Dean swallowed. "Oh good. You're gonna knight me."

"Decapitation will be – much faster, much more painless, than death by impalement or blood loss."

Dean gave him a stricken look. "Cas."

"Please, Dean."

Slowly, Dean went down on one knee.

"I don't know your religious beliefs, but ready yourself for death."

"I'm human. We're born ready to die."

Castiel drew back the blade.

Then it spun in his hand and he thrust it sideways, over the invisible border, into Inzur's gut.

Inzur's eyes flashed orange and Dean pulled the devil's trap gun from his ankle holster. Devin roared, pushing Hannah aside, and Dean shot him square in the forehead. He collapsed backward, falling into Frederic as Frederic tried to run toward Cas with an angel blade, and sat on the floor looking shocked.

Dean rolled as Lina fired a gun at him. Castiel threw the angel blade at her and it hit home. Hannah grabbed Devin's gun. A devil's trap bullet wouldn't keep Hannah from firing a gun, so Dean tackled her. They wrestled for control of the gun. Frederic, seeing that Cas was weaponless and still trapped, focused on Dean, but Dean and Hannah were rolling and grappling, and Frederic jumped around trying to figure out how to impale Dean without stabbing Hannah. Dean kicked desperately at Inzur's gun, which lay on the floor by the body.

"Kill him!" Hannah screamed. "I don't care what happens to me!"

Frederic grabbed the blade's hilt in a two-handed grip aimed straight down as Castiel grabbed the gun Dean had kicked into the devil's trap and yelled, "Frederic!"

The commanding voice jolted Frederic's attention, and Castiel shot. Frederic died and Castiel aimed at Parcell. The sorcerer had been watching the battle as if it were a fascinating cage match, but vanished when Castiel pointed Inzur's gun at him. He reappeared by the door to the interrogation room, opened it, and vanished again.

Hannah vanished. Dean, on the floor, lunged for Devin's gun, but Hannah reappeared, standing, and kicked him in the face. He dropped onto his back and Hannah planted her foot on his throat, pushing down. Even with both arms and all of his strength, Dean knew he had only seconds before his windpipe was crushed.

Castiel fired Inzur's gun at the ceiling three times, chipping and splintering the devil's trap enough to break it. He threw himself out of the circle at Hannah, pinning her arms to her sides as they fell. She tried to grab for Inzur's gun, her forearms flailing, as Dean sucked in air and dragged himself two feet to Devin's gun. He grabbed it with a whoop of relief, leaped up, looked surprised, and fell down.

Castiel pulled Hannah to a sitting position in front of him, keeping her arms pinioned. "Dean!"

Dean, looking at his thigh, cursed. "I think the redhead got me. Didn't even feel it until just now. Adrenaline. Crap."

"Stop struggling, Hannah," Castiel said gently. "It's over. You've lost."

She gave way, hanging limply, supported only by his arms, her long hair covering her face.

Castiel kept hold of her, looked over at Dean. "Can you walk?"

"Think so. I don't think she got bone, just a through-and-through in the muscle. Hurts like a son of a bitch." Dean stood, sucked in a breath. "Yeah, I'll be OK."

"You – " Hannah was working her way through utter disbelief. "You cannot still be alive. After everything you've done. You can't be."

"Well – " Dean put weight on his injured leg, grimaced. "I lied a minute ago, Hannah. Humans aren't born ready to die, it usually shocks the hell out of us. But we are born ready to fight."

"It doesn't matter. I'll kill you for what you've done to Castiel."

Dean shrugged and began looking over the floor. He still had Devin's gun, and Cas still had Inzur's. Lina's gun lay on the floor by her hand. The devil's trap gun was, appropriately, in the devil's trap. Hannah's angel blade was still in Lina's body; Frederic's was on the floor. Devin was still sitting on the floor, trying to send Dean flying with a wave of his hand, but it wasn't working, because of the devil's-trap bullet in his head.

Dean picked up the two loose guns. He put two in his waistband pointed the third at Hannah.

Castiel released Hannah, stood, and put Inzur's gun in his coat pocket. Hannah remained on the floor, the fight drained out of her for the moment.

"Before you threaten a human any further, Hannah, there's something you should know. I have been working as an agent for the Terrestrials for several years. Since before I knew you, and long before I knew Dean."

She looked up at him, speechless.

"Do you remember the decision by Mr. Vincent that resulted in the death of Benthes? The mission by Mr. Lincoln that resulted in his capture by the Terrestrials? The information from the SavorStop cameras that resulted in the loss of so many Loyalist weapons? I was behind all of those, Hannah. I planned the death of Mr. Vincent. I planned the death of Malazir. If you're going to blame anyone, blame Mr. Vincent. He was quite easy to read and to manipulate."

Dean shot Hannah.

Castiel looked up sharply at him. So did Hannah. Then she looked at the bullet wound in her leg and looked back up again.

"Devil's-trap bullet," Dean said. "Let's get the hell out of here."

He kept the devil's-trap gun and one of the angel-bullet guns, giving the other one to Castiel.

They made it as far as the front hall, where the front door was just opening. They both backed up around a corner as Ricardo walked in, stood in the hallway for a moment, then called, "Hannah? Consigliere?"

They froze in place, Dean holding an angel-blade gun.

Ricardo called again, his voice moving up the staircase.

"What did you do with the keys when you pulled the Prius up in front?" Dean whispered.

"Left them in the ignition."

Dean clapped him on the back, and they headed for the door.

When they opened it, two cars were just pulling up to the security gate. They closed the door quickly and Dean swore.

"The tunnel," Castiel said. "I had it installed before the staff moved in, as an escape hatch if the Loyalists found out who I was actually working for. No one else living knows about it."

Dean thought for just a second, nodded. "We pull Hannah and the other guy out into the hall, blindfold them, they won't know which direction we went. Can you conjure gags and blindfolds from the Magic Coat?"

Castiel did so. "I must say, I'll miss being able to do this."

They bound, blindfolded and gagged Devin and Hannah, fending off Devin's punches and curses. Hannah didn't resist at all, merely swallowed a groan of pain as Castiel lifted her and put her down in the hall.

Dean, having disposed of Devin with a lot less care, was already at the sink. Castiel closed the door partway to block the sound of the false wall sliding back.

They staggered down the stairs. When they were in the tunnel, and Cas had closed the false wall with a button there, they began limping as fast as they could go, which wasn't any too fast, for either of them.

Dean shot a glance sideways. "Hannah sounded like you look."

"Your wound is bleeding badly. Will you be able to make it to the end of the tunnel?"

"I'll have to."

Castiel pulled the belt of his trench coat out of his pocket and tied it around Dean's wound.

They staggered forward. After a few minutes, Castiel moved to Dean's left side and supported him so he wouldn't have to put so much weight on the injured leg.

"Isn't that going to hurt you? Helping me?" Dean asked, his voice quiet.

"At this point – everything hurts."

They didn't speak again until they reached the end of the tunnel and staggered up the staircase. Castiel lifted the manhole cover, looked around, blinded any nearby security cameras, scrambled out, helped Dean out, and replaced the manhole cover.

They both dropped, sitting on the ground in the angle of shrubbery that half-hid the manhole cover.

"We need a plan," Dean said. "This leg needs treatment. I really don't want to go to a hospital, they'd have to report a gunshot wound and that would bring the cops into it, but I need some kind of first aid or I'm gonna be no use for anything."

"Can Sam help?"

Dean looked rueful. "Yeah, when he gets here in an hour and a half after we get a phone somewhere. You had to get me to move so far away, huh?"

"It seemed like a good idea," Castiel was looking at something across the park, "at the time."

Dean looked over. A young woman was walking a small dog under the lights of a walking path around the park.

"I recognize her. She works for one of my neighbors. We will abduct her, hide in the house while we treat your injury, and steal their car."

Dean looked at the dog-walker, who laughed as she disconnected a phone call and put the phone back in her pocket. "Ah, crap. The poor woman's going to think she's gonna be raped and murdered."

"Well, she won't be."

Dean shook his head. "OK. Desperate times."

He needed Cas' help to stand. They limped onto the path, walking toward the young woman and the dog. "A Yorkie," Dean mumbled. "I hate Yorkies."

The young woman saw their pathetic progress and actually hurried to them. "What's the matter? Did you hurt yourself?" She had a Spanish accent.

"Got mugged," Dean said. "And the guys stole our phones. Could you let us into your house? I really need some first aid."

"No, but let me call an ambulance for you."

She reached for her phone, stopped dead and sucked in a breath as Dean pulled a gun from under his jacket.

"I'm afraid that doesn't work for us," Dean said, as the dog started yapping and growling. "We can't have a hospital or cops involved with this. But look, all we need is a place to get off the street and medical supplies."

"And a car," Castiel said.

"And whiskey," Dean said. Cas looked at him. "Pain-killer."

"That's the house, is it not?" Cas said, pointing.

Dean moved beside the woman to put the gun in her back, and the dog erupted with shrill barks. The tension, pain, and annoyance finally showed as Dean snapped, "Lady, shut up the damn dog!"

Castiel crouched in front of the dog, which went rigid and snarled. Cas' elbows were on his knees, one hand slightly extended, as he said to the dog, "There is nothing to fear."

The dog, with one whimpering yip, went silent; moved forward to smell the extended hand; then began wagging his tail and licking Cas' hand.

"OK, that either says something good about you or something bad about Yorkies, I'm not sure which," Dean said. "Let's go."

The woman didn't want to do it, but she didn't seem to fear for her life either. She glanced down at Dean's leg as he limped along, and he seriously hoped she didn't intend to kick it out from under him, because she could have.

A long walkway led from the street to the front door. When they were about halfway across the lawn Castiel said, "Oculi mortui caeci sunt." The woman looked at him, then at Dean for an explanation, but he was grim-faced, his mouth tense.

"Who else is home?" Castiel asked. "Before you answer, bear in mind that surprise appearances could be very bad for the people who make them."

She was silent for a moment. "No one. But I expect them back soon."

When they were on the front porch the woman raised her hand to touch the security keypad. "This is the same system that I have," Castiel said. "Please don't touch any button that will sound a silent alarm. I will know it."

She drew a breath, nodded, pressed five buttons on the keypad, then used a key to open the door. The dog went in first, then the woman, turning on the lights of a large foyer that opened into a huge living room. Dean followed her, and Castiel swept the street with his gaze before closing the door behind them. The woman re-set the security code.

"Wow," Dean said simply as they moved into the living room, which was replete with dark oak furniture, crystal vases of professionally arranged fresh flowers, a massive stone fireplace, and a piano.

The woman gasped, and they both looked at her. She was looking at Dean's leg. In the well lit room, the quantity of blood on his jeans was very clear. Even Castiel's belt was darkened and soaked by now, and Dean's face was pale.

"Yeah, not good. Is there a bathroom down here?"

"Yes. But if you want first aid, those – the closest are in a bathroom near the top of the stairs."

"Of course," Dean said. He pulled in a breath and headed for the staircase.

"I'll – " Cas began.

"There's – " the woman began, and stopped herself.

Then she continued. "There's an elevator. Down that hall."

Dean gave her the best smile he could. "Thanks," he said, and began heading down the hall, mumbling the camera-blinding spell. He paused and turned, pointing to his gun, looking at Cas. "Um – "

"Oh." Cas pulled one of the guns out of his coat and leveled it at her as Dean limped away.

"He was shot, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

After a moment she asked, "May I sit down?"

"Yes."

She sat in a chair. The dog was running around the living room, whining a little. He kept returning to Castiel to sniff at his legs. He seemed, not illogically, to be trying to figure out what Castiel was.

"Mocha," the woman said. "Come here."

The dog went to her and she picked him up, holding him on her lap and petting him.

"What's your name?" Castiel asked.

After a moment she said, "Elena." She looked up. "What's yours?"

Castiel smiled at her. "Where are keys to a working car?"

"There's only one car here. Um, the keys, spare keys, are in a drawer in the kitchen next to the dishwasher. It has a little elephant on the keychain."

"An elephant." Castiel was a little bemused.

"Mrs. – the lady of the house – " Elena was being as chary with names as Cas was – "she works to help endangered species."

"Ah." After a moment, Castiel nodded. "Yes. That should be a concern of mine now, too."

He went to another chair, supporting his weight by grabbing one chair arm with his non-gun hand, and lowered himself slowly, creases deepening around his eyes.

"You're hurt, too."

Castiel nodded. "It's a condition, rather than an injury. I feel like the marrow of my bones is on fire. Which is a certain kind of justice."

"You should both go to the hospital. He – " she pointed upstairs – "he's lost a lot of blood."

Castiel nodded. "Unfortunately, going to the hospital would bring the police into the picture. And we can't have that."

"It's hard to believe that you've committed a crime."

She was probing, her voice very meek and unthreatening. Castiel admired her attempt, and he was sure that Detective Edwards would too, when he questioned her eventually.

"The man with the injury is a very good man, trying to help me. I am – have been – a demon."

She couldn't help the little smile that pulled at a corner of her mouth. "You don't look like it."

"That's one of the reasons I was successful."

It took a long time, or seemed like it, but finally they heard the elevator coming back down. Unexpectedly, Dean was holding a sheet with its corners folded and twisted, carrying a small burden, and two other sheets and a few ties over that arm. He said to Elena, "Liquor?"

She pointed back down the hall. "In the den."

He looked at Cas. "Want some?"

"I doubt it would help."

He looked at Elena. "You could probably use a drink."

"No, please."

He headed back down the hall and they heard him say, "Oh, good." After a little clinking he came back out to the living room, taking a swallow from a plastic tumbler he held with a paper napkin. He looked at Elena and pointed at the tumbler. "I'm guessing these aren't worth, like, a hundred dollars each."

She looked puzzled. "No. We mostly use them outdoors."

Dean drained the glass, put the folded sheet on the floor, and opened it enough to put the tumbler and napkin inside. Several bloody towels and boxes of cotton and bandages were already inside, along with a spray bottle of bleach-containing cleaner and crumpled paper towels. He looked up at Cas with a sideways smile. "I think I've caught all the DNA and fingerprints anyone else would find, but you never really know, do you?"

"And I won't be able to help with that."

"Wouldn't have it any other way. I'd rather go to prison than have you go to Hell."

Cas smiled a little. Elena looked back and forth between them, a crease between her brows.

Dean looked at her. "Car."

Castiel answered. "The spare key is in the kitchen, that way, in a drawer next to the dishwasher. It has an elephant charm attached to it."

Castiel stood slowly, and Dean went over to him, presenting his arm with the sheets and ties draped over it. "Take the ties and tie her up." Then he looked around "What the hell, no chairs in here you can tie anyone to."

"Perhaps the leg of the piano."

"Good idea. Would you go over and sit on the floor by the piano?"

Elena swallowed and nodded. She put the dog on the floor and said, "Go to bed, Mocha." Mocha headed for the den, giving Dean a quick snarl as he passed.

Dean went to the kitchen, grabbed a towel and pulled the drawer open, found the key. There was a door in one wall of the kitchen, and Dean used the towel to open that. One car sat in the three-car garage, a light blue Lexus, and when Dean pressed the door-unlock button the horn beeped and the lights came on.

He went back into the living room, where Castiel had pushed the piano bench aside and was kneeling behind Elena, tying her. Her phone sat on a side table across the large room.

"Don't tie her too gently," Dean said. "We don't want people thinking she was a part of this. In fact – "

He looked around, pulled the gun out of his waistband, turned it, took aim, turned his head, and smashed the butt down on the lip of a delicate vase. It shattered, bright thin crystal fragments glinting among flying drops of water, long-stemmed lilies dropping sadly into a pool on the floor.

Elena started violently. "That's what we'll do to you if you don't cooperate," Dean said, pointing to the vase.

"I did – I have – "

"You're not hearing me," Dean said. "You tell your employers and the police, I said that's what we'd do to you if you didn't cooperate."

Castiel gave him a straight flat gaze from beside the piano. "I'm quite sure that cost more than a hundred dollars."

"But if they're convinced she wasn't part of it, it's worth it, right? Don't forget to gag her. Wait. Are you gonna be OK until someone gets back? You gonna need any – insulin, or anything?"

She blinked. "No."

"OK. Gag her."

"You're – " She stopped herself, but couldn't resist. "You're very odd criminals."

Dean seemed to accept that; then he pointed at her. "Dibs on that as a name for a rock group."

Castiel gagged her, and they left through the kitchen.

Dean gave the blood-soaked trench coat belt back to Cas, who didn't look thrilled to get it, but accepted it. Dean looked around as they went through the garage. "See any gardening gloves or anything?"

Cas dipped into his pocket, around the gun there, and produced two pair of latex gloves. "Will these do?"

"Perfect. Put this sheet on the car seat, over the headrest and everything."

"Certainly," Cas said, and plucked the keys from Dean's hand as he took the sheet.

Dean stared at his empty hand. "If I didn't feel so crappy, I'd argue with that."

He put the bag o'DNA evidence in the back seat, covered the passenger seat with a sheet, and rested his hand on the gun in his jacket pocket as Cas backed out of the garage. "Straight to San Bernardino?" Castiel asked. "Or should we stop somewhere, buy telephones, and tell Sam we're coming?"

Dean looked at him like he was crazy. "Straight to the Embassy Suites to get the Impala."

"By now the staff – what remains of the staff – have found Hannah and Devin and have possibly even removed the devil's trap bullets from them. Those two know where the car is hidden, and some Loyalists may be lying in wait, assuming that we will return to it. It would be logical to leave the car behind."

Dean just looked at him.

"Very well. I admit I don't understand emotional attachment to a machine."

"You will when you're human."

Castiel was silent, but his chest rose and fell quickly.

"Not having second thoughts, are you?" Dean asked quietly.

Cas looked at him with a little smile. "No. And even if I were, it wouldn't matter. Something irrevocable happened back there. I don't know how to describe it, but when I wouldn't even entertain the thought of killing you, I felt something – shift in me. I cannot return to demonhood. The only remaining routes for me are humanity, or death from this pain."

"You are not going to die. We didn't go through this for you to keel over. You're going to live, you're going to be human, and you and me are going to be together until the end of our human lives. Got that?"

Cas nodded, though he bent over the steering wheel and his knuckles went white.

"And I promise that's the last time I'll say anything hopeful, or anything about love. I'm just going to insult and abuse you until you're human."

Castiel laughed softly. "That will help, thank you."

Dean sat back, ran a hand over his injured leg, looked out the window. "You have a good point, though. We'd better be prepared for an ambush when we get back to the car. Hell, if that sorcerer tracked you there, he may have gone straight there when he ducked out of the fight."

"I don't think we need to be too concerned about Parcell. He's an opportunist, not a fighter. He'll wait to see how the opinions of other demons fall, if Hannah is honored for trying to bring me in or punished for the result, what the effect of my being revealed as a double agent is. Hannah, on the other hand – "

" – is humiliated and heartbroken and royally pissed. Probably happy to risk her life to kill you, or me. Us."

"Before we went down to the interrogation room – when you were taken down there by Devin and the others – she offered to allow me to kill her and escape with the car, knowing that the instant her body was discovered you'd be killed. She was willing to sacrifice her life to sever my connections to humanity."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shoulda done it and barged into the interrogation room, guns blazing."

"I would have only had Hannah's blade. You would have been the first casualty. All I could think of was some way to get a weapon into your hands."

"Yeah. The moment you asked me to kneel, I knew what you were up to. Can't tell you how happy I was that Devin was sloppy when he searched me."

"It wasn't surprising. Demons are so secure in their greater power that they tend to be careless with humans."

"Which was the reason you hired me in the first place."

Castiel shot him a sideways smile. "One of the reasons."

Dean smiled back, rubbed his leg again, and flinched. "OK. We need to come up with a plan to get my baby back without walking into a shredder made of angel blades. We each have two guns. What do we do?"

They discussed creeping up on the car, as Hannah and her squad had done to them, versus rolling boldly up in the Lexus prepared to fire, which wouldn't do the Lexus any good but would provide some cover for them. They came to a decision just before Castiel signaled for a right turn and pulled in to the Embassy Suites driveway.

And suddenly Dean lunged, grabbed the wheel, and wrenched the car to the left, directly into the path of a car that was just about to drive out.