A/N: Sorry it's taken so long but at least it's been beta'd before publish this time! Hope ya'll are enjoying your summer!

Re-writes published Dec. 16th

Chapter 10: Bang Bang

"Where have you been?" Sam snapped at Ava.

She cowered into herself and wrapped her arms around her body. Her eyes kept nervously darting to the remnants of Andy on the floor. "I- I just stepped out, just for a second."

"How could you not noticed this? He must've been screaming bloody murder."

Tears burst over her eyes and down her cheeks as Sam grilled her. Admittedly, Sam and Jake hadn't heard much either, but they had been pretty far out, and digging a grave. They hadn't yet had a chance to examine Andy's body; it was too big of a mess, and finding Ava had been priority. Jake had still been out looking for her when she'd stumbled back in.

A sigh whooshed past Sam's lips as he reeled himself back in. He grabbed her gently by the arm and led her outside of the little house, away from the gore. They walked to the center of the street and Sam turned to her again. "You must have heard something."

"I was just- I couldn't. Just water, and then-"

"Ava... stop lying to me." He tightened his grip on her arm.

"I'm not lying! I swear I didn't!"

"That doesn't happen on accident!"

Her body shook a little as her lower limp trembled. She let out a few pathetic sobs and whimpers before freezing. She threw Sam's arm off of her and stepped back. After taking in a deep breath and wiping a tear from her eye she smiled at him. "I was starting to get tired."

"Excuse me?"

Ava laughed and continued to dab at her eyes. She laughed again and rolled her shoulders. "And just so you know, he didn't scream bloody murder. He was dead before he hit the floor."

"Ava-" Sam left the sentence open-ended, mouth wide.

"I tell ya, wasn't easy. In the movies, busting a rib or two open is easy but, hell. You really gotta put your back into it."

"But why?"

"You're a little slower than I thought you were. I've been here for months, Sam, months."

Understanding slowly crept up his spine. It crawled along quietly and gently, leaving shivers as it went, until the knowledge spread over him in a cold rush.

"Lily wasn't me, though. I will say that. But I coulda had her too. Trust me, I'm reigning champion!"

"What the hell, Ava? What happened to you?"

"What happened to me? You have no clue do you? How special we really are." She smirked and stepped back, opening her arms wide. "We're chosen children, and the things we could accomplish if we just let go of some things. Man."

"That still doesn't explain to me why," Sam snapped back. He knew he wasn't carrying a switchblade or anything on him but slowly felt around his jeans for a weapon anyway.

"You really wanna know? About Azazel and Lucifer? Our parents, they-"

A soft bang erupted in the courtyard. Ava's mouth hung open. A little blood slowly pooled out of it, over her lip, and slipped down her chin. Her eyes were wide and Sam watched as life crept out of them. As she crumbled he could see a clear bullet hole at her temple. A sniper round. Panic erupted over him as he flew into action. Keeping his eyes on his surroundings, he tripped his way back in the house with Andy's corpse. The wooden walls of the old crumbling building wouldn't do much good against certain rounds but he was hoping against hope they hadn't splurged on heavy military grade ammunition.

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"How the hell did you manage to lose him?" Rufus barked, red in the face.

Castiel sighed, wiping his hands as clean as he could with a towel. He was sitting on the back edge of an ambulance after being checked out. They had to be sure the massive amount of blood on him wasn't his. He sighed and gave up cleaning his hands. It was too hard to do without water to dissolve the dried blood. "I didn't lose him, he took off. And for your information, Agent Turner, I was busy keeping an internationally wanted terrorist alive long enough to bring in for questioning. Seemed a little important at the time."

Rufus bit his tongue at that. If it had been him he would've done the same exact thing. But it hadn't been him so he had the luxury of griping about it. Just when they'd gotten Dean cleared and out of the hot water, that damn fool had to go throw himself back in the boiling pot. "You didn't happen to catch where he was headed?"

"A little," Cas admitted. He smiled gratefully as someone came over with a water bottle. He resumed cleaning his hands. "Dean took off with her phone, so we can't ask our techies to look at it or trace it since we have nothing registered to her. But I did get a glance at a few names and a vague location. I need a map."

Rufus nodded and went off, barking orders as he strode through the barrage of flashing lights. They were starting to board up the place and police line it. The first few rounds of CSIs had already gone in, canvassing and marking off spots. Cas thumped his head against the door of the ambulance, closing his eyes. He struggled to remember the last time he'd had so many headaches in his life. He struggled to justify the trouble to himself. Just because you have a silly crush on the new agent doesn't mean you can let him get away this all this. He firmly shut that side of his brain up. Cas was nothing if professional, no matter the situation. Despite his protests to himself, his stomach couldn't help but clench. There was a saying that once you put something like that into words, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't take it back? Cas made a vow never to say it out loud, not even in the mirror to himself. He wouldn't even write it down anywhere.

"How you holdin' up?"

Castiel felt his mouth turn into a tired smile. He opened his eyes to see Bobby standing in front of him with a steaming mug of coffee. "I've seen better days. Thank you Agent Singer."

"Don't mention it. Figure we gotta get you pumped full o' as much caffeine if we're gonna catch up with that boy. Rufus tells me the kid's like a bat outta hell when he gets going."

"I believe that would be an accurate comparison to make." He took a sip of his coffee. "I'm just waiting for a map and then we can send out teams to different locations, make a geographical profile based on what we know about Azazel and Meg, and try to narrow it down a central area."

"Easier said than done," Bobby said, looking over the chaotic movements of the FBI around them. "We've been looking at the area since you guys left on your little runaway mission." Cas made a noise of protest. He had done no such thing. "You guys drove pretty far out, and past here? Woods and trees and miles of nothing. It'll be like combing through a desert but not as arid."

"Excellent," Castiel muttered, adopting an unusual tone of sarcasm. "Thank you, Dean Winchester, wherever you are." He sent a glare to the skies, hoping somehow the wind would carry it to him.

They sat in silence for a moment as time ticked by. It had only been a few minutes, but every second counted in a mission like this, especially with the massive head start that Dean had gotten. Which had him thinking. "Singer. What do you think Dean's chances of transfer are after this?"

"Hm?" Bobby's eyebrows rose in surprise. It seemed like an odd moment to bring it up. "What do you mean?"

"So far we've managed to keep him out of trouble, but I'm not sure the bureau will overlook this."

"We can worry about that later. First, let's concentrate on getting the boy back." Bobby clapped his arm warmly on Cas' shoulder just as Rufus was striding up.

"I tried to get as big of a map, that still had this god forsaken house on it. I found two. Now have at it." He thrust the two maps at Cas.

Nodding, Cas collected them and set down his coffee cup. Along with the two other agents, they walked over the SUV where the rest of his team was waiting, just having finished a sweep of the house.

"Like the color," Pam teased, eying the blood that had soaked all over his shirt.

Castiel ignored the teasing and laid out both of the maps on the hood of the car, asking for the others to illuminate them with their flashlights. He ran his fingers slowly across all of the cities and points of interest that he could see. Depending on the map size, the location he was looking for could be a huge dot or just an italicized scribble somewhere in a corner. His stomach knotted in worry as he started on the second map, not finding anything on the first. If they couldn't get there in time... if they couldn't find them at all...

Relief flooded through him.

"That's it, that's a name I saw on there." He ran his finger around the map to try and find the second point he'd seen. "There, that one, too. Somewhere along here is where they're keeping Sam and the others."

"The others?" Ellen asked, brows coming together in confusion.
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Dean's heart hammered in his chest as he sped down the dirt road. He'd been on the road for nearly an hour now and he didn't feel any closer to Sam. The street twisted and turned, the car had teetered a little as he'd taken the curves too fast. Police cars drove nothing like his baby did. Not for the first time that day, he wished he would've taken his baby out instead of the hunk of metal he was stuck in. Beads of sweat were collecting on his forehead and his neck as imagination gave him twisted and broken images of Sam.

Dead Sam.

"Not today," he hissed out as he checked the GPS mad he'd pull up from Meg's phone. He'd told himself he was going to start appreciating technology more when they all made it out of it okay. If it hadn't been for the custom upload that had indicators on it, there would've been no hope for him finding the place.

His eyes continuously bounced between the road, the map, the clock, and the disabled police radio. He'd originally left it on, but once chatter started coming through for all vehicles to report to Meg's house, he'd nearly ripped it off, forgetting that all you had to do was push a button. The speaker to it dangled towards the floor, swinging with every bump that Dean hit.

The only real downside, excluding the fact that every second that passed was another second Sam could be dead, was that the silence left him in his own head. He knew for a fact he wasn't going to get any radio stations out here and it seemed inappropriate to jam out to Led Zeppelin while people were at risk. So, his inner voice was it for company. And Dean's inner voice could be kind of a dickbag sometimes, in that it reminded him of everything he'd rather not think about.

The first thing that his brain reminded him of, after his adrenaline had calmed down a little, was that he'd just left Cas alone with a terrorist. Yes, she had been bleeding out on the floor, but that didn't guarantee anything. Another agent's safety was always top priority, and you don't leave a man behind. He'd never done that before. Guilt made his mouth taste like cotton as he tried to swallow it down. He tried to comfort himself with the fact that Castiel was an experienced agent. He worked as the head of the BAU, on an active squad. He probably did this type of stuff all the time, and he seemed fine. More than fine. Downright handsome. Dean scolded his brain for the thought, and he could've sworn his inner self had stuck out its tongue at him. What was he? Five? Yes.

The second was what would fall on Rufus and his 'team'. The Gang Squad operated as a succinct unit. When one of them suffered, they all suffered. He was breaking about a thousand protocols, and he knew it (never let anyone say that Dean didn't know the rules; he just preferred to ignore them). Which would mean a heavy crackdown from headquarters. Probably some retraining for all of the agents, which was always a field trip. The paper work would increase. The better the office was, the lazier they were able to be about recording their every single move. And they had been a damn fine office. Dean had probably just sunken their reputation down the drain. But most importantly, what would happen to Rufus? If everything was good, he'd simply get a reprimand, Dean would be suspended or re-assigned, and life would go on. But that wasn't always the case. The FBI was strict on chain of command and following it.

This wasn't something that they'd let slide.

Finally, Meg's phone beeped at him, signaling that he'd arrived. There were trees around him and a little hill, but other than that not much else. He turned the car off and loaded a new clip into his gun. He didn't have time to recount how many bullets were left. A good agent would've remembered how many rounds he'd fired but he wasn't exactly being a 'good agent' at the moment. He silenced the phone and somehow managed to dim the screen before sliding it into his pocket. Dean made sure to check the extra gun he kept in his boot, too, before sliding out of the car.

Gently, he let the door shut, pushing against it and then manually locking it. He fumbled around for a flashlight for a minute before attaching the gun mount. A part of him wanted to turn it off, but even he knew it was suicide to go fumbling around in the woods in the dark. He wished that night vision goggles were standard in every cop car, but most of the time they weren't needed, so Dean was stuck inching through the woods and up the hill. If nothing else, he wanted to get to higher ground to survey the area.

It was difficult for him to hold in his curses as branches continued to swipe him. He'd never been the most elegant in the woods; it's why he worked a city beat. His temper had started to roar underneath his skin by the time he finally made it to the top. His heart stopped when he saw a few dim lights down in the valley below. He turned his flashlight off and crouched, inching towards the edge of the hill. The moon was starting to peek out from beneath the clouds. There was what seemed like a small - very small- abandoned town sitting there. From his spot he could see someone lying down in the middle of the street, motionless.

A cold freeze enveloped him as he fumbled for the small set of binoculars he'd put in his pack. "Please don't be Sam, please don't be Sam, please don't be Sam," he muttered, putting them to his eyes.

It was a woman.

"Her name is Ava."

Dean froze as he felt something cold and round touch the back of his head.

"But you move a single muscle, and it will be Sam lying next to her."

Every instinct in his body told him to whip around and grab the gun. Most of the time, when a gun was pointed at the back of your head, the guy wasn't actually prepared to shoot. You could slide your head to the side, grab the muzzle of the gun and yank. The most you'd lose was generally a finger or an ear. But it didn't feel like the man behind him was bluffing. Dean's hands clenched tighter around his own gun, arm muscles twitching, ready to pull the trigger.

"You might wanna put that down too," the man said, nudging Dean's arm with his knee. "We wouldn't want any accidents."

There wasn't a single snarky remark left in Dean as he lowered his gun to the leaf-covered ground. There would be dirt in the barrel in the morning. If this had been any other situation, the first thing he would've made sure to do is to keep himself armed. But this was Sam they were talking about, and besides he had-

"And the one in your boot, too, Agent Winchester."

Dean cursed and slowly moved his hand to his pant leg. He slid it up gently so as not to make any sudden movements and let it flop to the ground with a thud. He finally found something to say. "You've got an advantage over me, man. And I'm not talking about the gun. You know who I am but I don't know who-"

"Azazel, Agent Winchester. My name is Azazel. It's an honor to make your acquaintance."

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Sam remained frozen inside the house. The stench from Andy's internal organs was starting to spread through the small room. Worse, whatever Ava had done to split him open had nicked the top of the lining of his stomach; the smell of putrid acid starting to join. He wouldn't be able to stay in there much longer, especially with all the candles they had lit spreading the smell with heat and smoke. Yes, the best option was to stay and move further into the house, but the rest of the building was exposed to all the windows. He tried to take in deep, calming breaths, but it just made him nauseous.

Taking a risk, and figuring he was already dead due to the circumstances, he crawled along the floor to grab a piece of wood with a loose nail on it. If nothing else, he had something to swing with.

The wooden structure wasn't safe enough. He would have to try and make a sprint to one of the few buildings (he thought one might have been a courthouse back in the day) that had brick walls. To get there, there was only one exit. Back the way he had come from. Back where Ava was lying.

He cursed himself and his rage.

Maybe, just maybe, if he had actually talked to his brother, maybe if he hadn't tried to take everything on by himself. Maybe if he hadn't felt (selfishly or not) abandoned by his brother for trying going trying to transfer, he wouldn't be in this situation. Dean was clever. And at this point he would've had to have connected the dots; especially with the paperwork he'd left behind at their apartment. But, there wasn't anything he could do about it now.

He flinched a little as he slid his hands to get a tighter grip on the piece of wood. Splinters.

Ignoring them, Sam stood up and took a deep breath. He chanced a peek out of the nearest window, and, seeing no movement, nudged the door open a little with his foot. He waited patiently to see if the movement had registered with whoever the sniper was, then stood up. Sam was having a hard time breathing as he nudged himself through the door and spun to take cover behind one of the support poles on the porch of the house. No movement.

The courthouse he needed to get to was maybe a short sprint away.

He took off.

Sam vaulted over Ava's body, but before he took a few more steps, he heard his name called.

"Sam!"

He turned around to see Jake standing in the middle of the 'street' with a gun trained at him.

Where the hell had he gotten that?

"Jake... what are you doing?"

There was a tremor of remorse in the other man's voice as he spoke, "I'm sorry, Sam. Only one of us can leave."

"Wait-hold on. It doesn't have to be like this. We can make it out together."

"No. We can't."

"How do you know that?!" Sam prepared himself to plead to Jake. He wasn't above begging to save his life. Pride wasn't worth that.

"Azazel paid me a visit."

"What? When?"

Jake looked down at the ground for a brief moment. Before Sam had a chance to sprint for cover, he looked up again. He double checked to make sure the clip and bullet were loaded before continuing. "You're a good guy, Sam. And I respect you. I respect what you've done for us. But he's not going to let us leave. Only one person gets out. And I promise you, when I do, he's getting it. But I got family to worry about."

Sam's heart stuttered for a bit.

Jake had him outgunned. What the hell was a piece of wood to a glock?

"I'm sorry, Sam."

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"What do you want?"

Azazel laughed as he pushed the gun a little more into the back of Dean's skull. "Not much, honestly." If he'd had the energy, Dean would've laughed. An honest criminal. "But here, I'll be kind. How about you put those binoculars back to your eyes and take a look back at where Ava was."

Nervous spit was starting to gather in Dean's mouth and he swallowed it down. He was proud of himself at how little his hands shook as he brought the binoculars back up to his eyes.

His soul left his body and left it empty.

Sam.

Sam and some guy... with a gun.

"What the he-"

"Now Dean, calm down. I might be evil, but I can be fair. So, how about we make a deal."

"A deal?" His uniform felt tight and constricting on him.

"A deal."

"What kind of deal?" he asked, throat closing up on him.

"For your brother's life."

Cold sweat broke out across his forehead and back. This couldn't be happening. A breeze swept through the trees as he tried to keep a trained eye on the situation happening in the town.

"I'm listening."

"I've got my people set up everywhere. We can have Jake -that's his name by the way- out before he even pulls the trigger. But, I need something from you."

Dean's heart thumped painfully in his chest. "What?" It came out squeakier than he wanted it to.

"A year from now, my associates and I will come for you, and yes, they're listening," Azazel slid the gun lazily further up Dean's head. "We'll need something from you. Just access. And you will say yes. You give me your word, and we save Sam, right now."

"That's it?"

Azazel chuckled. "Yes. That's it. But know this; if you try and hunt us down, you try and tell anyone about our little conversation, we will find your brother and flay him open. There are ways to keep people alive after their limbs have been separated. There are ways to make sure he never passes out when we flay the skin from his bones. Aren't medicinal advances great?! God bless the human race."

"What do you want?"

"Nothing but your cooperation. A year, Dean. A year. Isn't a little blurring of the lines worth your brother's life?" Dean couldn't breathe. "Oh look! Looks like Jake's getting ready to take a shot!" There was glee in Azazel's voice.

"Yes! YES! I take the deal. I take the damn deal."

Azazel raised a finger. A whizzing sound rang through the small excuse for a valley and Dean watched as Jake crumbled to the ground and his brother rolled down to the floor to take cover. He felt the cold metal move away from the back of his head.

"Smart man," Azazel said as he lowered the gun. Dean turned his head as the other man pulled out a dangling microphone cord. "It's all been recorded and sent back. And if you think I'm impressive? You don't know the half of it. Weasel out of this deal and your brother's dead."

Dean felt like vomiting. His stomach lurched and his entire consciousness fought against what he'd just done. You don't deal with terrorists. No matter what. He checked his binoculars again to make sure Sam was alive before turning around.

Azazel waved his gun in the air, letting it play around Dean's face. "Well, it's been good, De-"

Blood exploded over Dean's features. Luckily, he closed his eyes before it sunk into them. That didn't stop him from feeling his eyelashes coated with the liquid. His lips felt heavy with foreign blood and he struggled not to spit or clear his lips, knowing it would slip into his system.

"Dean!"

His entire body froze and he lifted his arm to try and dab away at the blood. He knew better than to wipe- it would just smear it in worse. He had no idea where Azazel had been and did not want to get any diseases into his system. There was a roar in his ears as he tried to listen to what had just happened. By the lack of sound, he assumed Azazel was dead. is system felt sluggish as he feared what that would mean for Sam. Was the deal void now?

"Dean!"

Warm hands clasped around his biceps. It was stupid, because there wasn't a logical reason he should have recognized the smell or the voice in his panic, but he knew it was Cas. There were more footsteps that followed his voice.

"Ca-Cas?"

"Dean, it's okay. Are you okay? Are you injured?"

The grip on his arm was starting to hurt from how hard Cas was holding onto him.

"Sam! Sam's down there! Go get Sam!"

He vaguely heard Cas bark orders at what he assumed were the rest of the agents to run down the valley to find his brother. Dean would've done it himself, but his knees were trembling and he couldn't figure out how to get up. The blood had started to dry on his eyelids and he was having a hard time opening them. You don't let a blind man run a rescue mission.

"It's okay, Dean. We got him. We got him."

Dean wasn't sure if he meant gunning down Azazel or that Sam was in safe custody.

He felt cold water over his face, and then hands working to wipe the grime off.

"Why did you do that?" Dean whispered, broken and quiet.

"I didn't want you to die," Cas whispered back, just as quietly.

"Find my brother."

"He's safe, Dean. He's safe."