Alibi

by Good Question

Destiel Crime AU : Dean Winchester is an FBI agent working for the Gang Unit in Oklahoma City. An explosion rocks the FBI headquarters and soon after the rubble clears Dean meets Castiel Novak, from the NCAVC unit. Neither of them thought that a national emergency would bring to light the deeper secrets behind both of their families. And what are the C.O.L.T. files?

25. Burning Blood

Chapter 25: Burning Blood

Loud sirens wailed in the distance as Castiel settled himself onto his balcony. The chair creaked as he sat down and with a sigh he reached over and placed his drink on the table. City lights twinkled along with the stars and he felt tired. It had been a long day at the office. After 'the Seven' incident they'd returned to their original working procedures. For a moment things between him and Dean had started to smooth out as well, though there was something tense in Dean that just couldn't be figured out. Castiel had even suspected that an apology for Dean's outburst may have been on its way. That is, until Cas had to tell him that there would be no follow up information privy to them. Dean had argued, told him it was easy for him to say since he was the CIA and had left in an angry huff. Luckily his brother had been the only one to witness the argument and no one else was any wiser to it. He'd gotten a pitying look from the younger Winchester which he'd brushed off.

Since then he'd been informed that most of the Seven were dead and that the CIA and the FBI were impressed with Sam Winchester's field work. They wanted to test him out again. It wasn't a topic he'd approached with Dean yet. The few times they spoke now at the office were friendly enough, even if they lacked the warmth he was used to. Castiel couldn't exactly blame him. At least the cases they took on weren't suffering. If higher powers were truly serious about bringing Sam back out it would be up to them to notify the Winchester's. He was done playing messenger. The weight cradled against his shoulder's was enough. Still, there was a certain strain that came with personal relationships being in a sort of limbo.

He'd started having night terrors again.

Castiel fiddled with his drink, staring down through the amber liquid to the bottom of the glass.

"What are you going to do with yourself?" he whispered before biting the bullet and taking a swig.

It burned as it sloshed in his mouth, coating his tongue and draining down to his stomach in a fiery rage. He let his muscles relax as he leaned back into his chair. It was quiet and almost relaxing until his phone beeped at him. Castiel tried to ignore it, closing his eyes tighter but it beeped again. He reached over with his free hand and slid it open. It was an acquaintance from Internal Affairs. They'd found nothing on Sam's mystery woman but they had a still shot of someone matching the description entering and leaving the elevators to their legal department floor. The same floor Sam worked. Another thing he would have to keep from Dean unless someone said otherwise. He'd honestly expected nothing out of the search though he'd sent in a request for a follow up due to a feeling at the back of his spine anyway. Now he wished he hadn't.

A few messages later he'd established that the information had already been sent up the line and more than likely Zachariah would mention it to him if they deemed it important enough. He thanked his friend and dropped the phone in his lap. A small headache started brewing behind his eyes. He was beginning to worry about Sam. They weren't close friends, though Sam was a very pleasant conversational partner, but he was concerned enough. Most of his worry was for Dean and thus by proxy Sam but he still felt a level of companionship with the younger Winchester. Zachariah had hinted to him about the colorful past that the Winchester family had. He'd never been given full access but, he'd come to that conclusion himself when Mary Campbell's and John Winchester's names came up on a C.O.L.T. list.

At the time he hadn't expected to become so attached to their sons.

For a moment he wondered if he should go digging past the information he'd been provided.

He let the thought go as quickly as it came. It would be too risky. He'd have to be more clever if he wanted information.

Castiel raised his glass to his lips and then pulled it back. He peered at the empty tumbler. Sometime during his conversation with Internal Affairs he'd finished his drink. He contemplated making another but thought better of it. Instead he stood, groaning as he did, and stepped back into his apartment. He left the glass on the counter and wandered into his own room; dark except for the open blinds. The shadows trailed across his bed and climbed up his closet. He followed them with his eyes and wandered to the doors. Castiel's fingers felt stiff and swollen as he opened them and reached back. He knocked along the back wall, behind all of his clothing, until he heard a soft hollow sound. Temptation coursed through his veins but he knew I would be an idiotic idea. He'd have to re-plaster the entire wall. Instead, he pressed his open palm against the back wall and took a deep breath.

It was dangerous to keep memento's from the time of his life that didn't exist. The time with his family. Still, he'd found out that he was more sentimental than he'd originally thought and prayed it wouldn't end up biting him in the ass. Castiel chewed at his lip and drew back, coats brushing against his skin. He closed the closet doors and sat on the edge of his bed. Out of habit he leaned back and curled to the side. He turned around stubbornly as his hand twitched, wanting to reach out and stroke the empty space.

He was a grown man, not a love sick teenager. He'd survived wars, he could survive this.

And he did just that for a few weeks until Dean and Sam had a solo case. Castiel of course hadn't been there for the conversation when they'd brought it to up. The only thing Dean had said to him was 'You knew, didn't you?'; to which he'd had no response. He knew that there were solo assignments for the week but someone above him had assigned them. Briefly he'd thought Dean was going to hit him. A part of him felt it would've been justified. Instead Dean had stormed off, leaving a cold draft behind him. Cas had wandered to the safety of his own office before he'd had a chance to talk to Sam. No doubt the man was thrilled about the opportunity. He excelled in field work, though, Sam excelled in everything he tried. He'd remain in their legal sector but top brass would let them know which cases they wanted to test the man out on.

Of course it just so happened that the first consultation case the two had would go to hell.

… … … … … … … … … … … .. .. .. .. .. . . . . . . . . .

"What do you mean there's something wrong?"

"Exactly what it fuckin' sounds like. We need back up, the CDC or something. Something really fuckin' weird is going on with these people." There were huffing sounds and a grunt.

"That's not very specific. I can't just sound an alarm for nothing?"

"Fine, here, hold on."

Castiel drummed his fingers across his desk and waited as he listened to rustling sounds. "Agent Winchester?"

"There's two of us now, you're just gonna have to call me Dean."

Cas snorted softly and shook his head. At least in his urgency Dean forgot that he was angry with him. "Now, what's wrong?"

"Something's wrong, I took a couple of pictures of some of the injuries. The people in this town are just fuckin' losing it. If it's not a riot I don't know but there's some creepy shit going on. Weird bites and wounds figured there's maybe something in the wat-"

"Dean?" Castiel frowned and pulled the phone from his ear as it began to beep loudly. With a curse he pressed re-dial only to be brought straight to voice-mail. He was re-dialing the number before his brain had even caught up with him. No answer. For a moment he had hoped that Dean's phone had lost battery, an idiotic thing to do but not one he'd put past a Winchester in a hurry, but Sam's phone did the same thing.

He stood up and walked out of his office, waving briefly to Ellen and Bobby. They wouldn't be heading out for a few hours. Pamela was out on one of her own consultation visits and wouldn't be back until the evening. They were supposed to be checking on extended branches, "good will" type of work for local communities while trying not to step on too many toes. The head of the FBI had told them it would make local bureaucrats feel important. Castiel paused only briefly to knock before he entered Charlie's tech room.

"Sir?" she asked, turning around in her chair, a chat window flashing on the screen.

"Agent Bradbury?"

She turned to look at the screen, "Oh no! It's not what you think. It's Ash. The new tech guy we hired? We've been compiling data together, trying to figure out how to make the system faster, fixing some bugs-" she paused and typed a quick away message. "Was there something you needed?"

"Where were Sam and Dean Winchester sent for their consultation visit?"

Charlie tried not to roll her eyes at the unnecessary addition of 'Winchester' but quickly pulled up the record anyway. "Uuuh, Rivergrove, Oregon."

"Is it possible to do a tower search?"

"Tower search?"

"I was just getting an update from Agent Wi- Dean and the phone cut out. I attempted to call his brother but no answer. It wouldn't even ring."

Charlie hummed and turned to her computer. A few moments later there was a map on her screen with little flashing lights. "Huh."

"What is it?" Cas asked, leaning in over her shoulder, forcing her to scoot a little out of the way.

"There's a," she paused and grabbed her tablet pen, drawing a large circle around the city, "complete dead zone around this area." She zoomed in with a few taps. "Nothing, I mean nothing. Everything else seems to be working fine. They could've had weather issues? Power lines out."

"For the entire city? One power line?" Castiel mumbled, trying to brush off the funny feeling. Things like this happened. It wasn't anything new.

"I can check the weather reports. Do they have any satellite phones there at any of the stations? If they do they can just ping us with that, no cell towers needed."

"Yes, please do check. And keep an eye out for reports from the area."

"Reports?"

"Dean had a feeling that something strange was going on. I'm inclined to believe him."

… … … … … … … … … … … .. .. .. .. .. . . . . . . . . .

"Damn it!" Dean cursed, staring at the phone in his hand.

"What happened?"

"Line went dead, can't get any reception."

Sam pulled his own phone out and frowned. "Me neither."

"Well fuck," Dean dug in his pocket for the car keys. "You think you could stay with the good Mrs. Tanner and the doc? Ask her how quick we can get a tox screen back on the doornails."

"Why? Where are you going?" Sam paused and reached a hand out to his brother's shoulder. "You know you had no choice right?"

Dean shrugged him off and gave him a glare. The family had been about to kill an innocent person, their own mother, wouldn't stand down, and were prepared to attack them. It'd been an easy choice to make. "No shit. And I'm gonna drive a bit out of town. See if I can get reception. Hold down the fort."

He waved his hand at Doctor Lee coming out of her office. Sam pulled her aside to explain as he marched down the steps and to his car. He opened his cellphone and placed it on his dash and started driving; that way he could see if his phone would flash back to life. Dean hadn't even made it less than a mile out of town when off to the sides he'd found two crashed cars. If it hadn't been for the roadblock up ahead he might've gotten out to check for trouble. The flashing police lights told him that it had probably already been taken care of. He shrugged to himself and tried to shake off the weird feeling.

"Can I help you?"

Dean leaned out of his window a little and rustled in his coat pocket for his badge. "Yeah actually, I need to get out of the city."

"No can do, sir."

"Uh, why not?" he asked as he stashed his ID back. Something about the look the sheriff gave him made him feel odd.

"Bridge is out."

"What?"

"Flooded and crumbled. Unsafe to drive on."

Dean frowned and glanced up at the sky. There'd been no rain to his knowledge that day and none of the terrain around the city had suggested wetter weather in weeks.

"Right, how else can I get out of town?"

"No other way; that's the only road that leads out."

"No other way?" Dean repeated, one hand slowly sliding off of the steering wheel. He left it lying on his thigh, trying not to move too much. There was a pinching in his stomach. He coughed and leaned more comfortably in his seat, trying for casual.

"No other way, sir."

"You've got all your marked cars out here. Any chance I could use a satellite phone? You do have those, right?"

"Of course," the officer hesitated for a moment. His smile felt bitter. "Let me go check."

Dean hit the car in reverse and stepped on the gas just as the officer pulled his gun out.

There was a moment where everything was silent until the tires screeched as Dean spun the car around and bullets started smashing into the back of his vehicle. With his heart pounding his ears, Dean maneuvered back towards the town. That bad feeling he'd had earlier intensified as he hit the town limits and saw cars in poles or just abandoned. Smashed store windows. It looked like a riot had had happened but there were no masses left. Every so often he would have to dodge a someone running to his car, gun in hand, but they were easy to dodge. How in the hell could a fifteen minute trip turn a town upside down.

"What the-!" Dean slammed on his breaks as a man, Mark (the marine he'd met briefly while coming in) stepped out into the road in front of his vehicle. He had a shot gun. Dean pulled out his own hand gun and slid out of his car slowly, leaving the door open as a shield. If he'd stayed inside a shotgun blast would've killed him through the window faster than he would've been able to get his own shot off. Borrowed cars didn't have the reinforced glass with a weaker inside. (He could thank technology for the windshields they'd started putting in some government vehicles that made it easier to shoot out from the inside.)

"You one of them!?"

Dean held his gun steady but used the door of the van to keep most of his body covered and protected. "One of what?" Dean asked even though he had a good feeling he knew. He was almost tempted to pray that when he'd called Cas and cut off that they'd send back up. His hunch on the CDC was starting to feel more like more than a hunch.

"Them," Mark said, eyes roaming the few dead in the rubble that Dean hadn't seen before.

"No, you?"

"No."

They stood still for a moment, both breathing heavily until Dean pulled his gun away and down. He raised his arms to show that they were empty. Mark lowered his own and slowly walked around the car.

"What happened here?" Mark asked as he spotted the rounds embedded in the car.

"Rough day," Dean grumbled as he slid into the car himself. Before he could even get the key into the ignition he saw Mark raise his shotgun. Though, in fairness he still had one hand on his own weapon.

"You know it's illegal to keep a weapon pointed at a federal agent."

"When your neighbor Mr. Rogers," Mark started and Dean snorted. The marine gave him a cold look and continued. "comes at you and tries to cut you up, we'll talk. I'm keeping this shotgun right here, nice and friendly. There's something going on in this town. And it ain't right."

Dean rolled his eyes and started the car. It would be a tense ride back to the doctors but on the whole he couldn't blame the guy. Hell, he was starting to feel nervous too. He kept one eye on the road and the other in the mirror to make sure Mark was behaving and not showing any signs of aggression. Whatever the hell was going on was spreading. He couldn't remember anyone in town at first being 'off' at all.

They pulled up into a small space in front of the local clinic and got out of the car in a hurry. "Doc's through there," Dean mumbled as they inched towards the door. After a few bangs it opened to reveal his brother. Mark rushed past him further into the small building.

Sam was on him quick, "So?"

"Roadblock. What's going on?"

"Doc seems to think it's some kind of virus."

"Virus? I figured there was just something funky with the water supply or something. Like LSD poisoning or some shit."

"Not really, no. Besides, LSD doesn't make most people this violent."

"Okay, so why a virus?" Dean asked stowing his gun.

"Well, she looked at the blood samples from the recently deceased Tanner family. There's something not right in their blood. She'd need a better lab to be sure but there's definitely foreign entities in the sample. Mainly something about the lymphocytes being crazy active. Like they were fighting something."

"Shit."

"Yeah. So, no luck with the phones?"

"If it's a virus I guess it makes sense. Came up on a blockade, the local PD fired at me."

"What?" Sam's eyes went wide.

"Relax Sammy, I'm fine. The car's a little worse for wear but I'm fine. This thing spreads through blood to blood contact then or something?"

"Yeah."

"We've got one!"

Both of the Winchester's turned to Mark's voice echoing through the clinic.

"Mrs. Tanner," Sam said as they rushed towards the rag tag group that remained.

"What happened?" Dean asked as he drew out his gun.

"She's infected."

"Are we sure?" Dean asked, creeping in closer to the janitor's closet she'd been tossed in. She was curled up on the ground but didn't look particularly crazy. Sam nodded and Dean inched the door open. Mark was at his side, shotgun steadily pointed at her.

Mrs. Tanner moved sharply, eyes turning to them, brimmed red. "Mark! Mark- they, they locked me in here, they're crazy! It's them not me-" she inched forward as she spoke. "They-" tears sprung from her eyes.

Then she leaped towards them.

Without thinking twice Dean fired. Once straight through her forehead then again through her chest. The nurse who was assisting Doctor Lee, Pam?, screamed and he thought he heard someone stumble into one of the trays kept in the room.

"Damn it," Mark whispered harshly, looking at her crumpled form.

"We need a quarantine room or something. No one goes near her without gloves," Dean said as he watched the blood ooze around her, soaking into her clothes. He stayed, staring at the body for a few minutes before he heard the rustling sound of movement. He wasn't exactly looking forward to the looks he was sure he was getting from the locals. But hey, if they couldn't shoot their neighbor, Dean could. He just prayed that whatever the hell she was infected it stayed with her.

… … … … … … … … … … … .. .. .. .. .. . . . . . . . . .

The sky was starting to get dark and Castiel paced in his office. He'd alerted the proper channels that they'd lost contact with two agents but for the most part they were just irritated that they'd 'gone rogue'. Cas knew better. Top brass thought they were being insubordinate or behaving irresponsibly. A few hours ago he'd been told that they'd sent out a message to the surrounding PD's to go search to see if something was wrong. How a town barely thirty minutes over hadn't been able to get back to them yet disturbed him. Without an extraction order he couldn't leave to go search. Bobby and Ellen had been sent out for their own assignment and Castiel had remained at the office going through his own growing mound of paperwork. There was no danger.

A knock on his door pulled him from his papers. He hadn't read a single word.

"Nothing yet?" Bobby leaned against the door, eyebrows raised.

"Nothing. When did you get back?"

"Just now."

Castiel stood up and walked around his desk. He trailed behind Bobby to the main floor where Pamela and Ellen were sitting. "How was the trip?"

"Good, interesting. Not really much to go on," Pamela said propping her feet up on the table. "I hear the boys aren't back yet?"

Castiel turned to look at Ellen instead of responding. She shrugged, "Finally got to spend some quality time with that Ash kid. He's a genius. Might even give our girl, Charlie, a run for her money. Probably would've spent a few more hours there but no. In and out, no complications. Sam and Dean really haven't contacted anyone yet?"

"No," Castiel picked at the edge of his sleeve, fiddling with the cufflink. "I was assured that someone was sent out a few hours ago but we haven't heard from them yet either."

"That doesn't sound good," Pamela said, her feet sliding down to smack against the floor. She leaned forward. "Have you checked in again?"

"Charlie says that the towers in the area are still out. It hasn't spread and none of the maintenance workers sent to the location have responded either."

"So essentially we have two federal agents missing a town in radio silence?" Ellen clarified. There was dread crawling down her back. "I don't want to sound paranoid or anything-"

"Trust me, you ain't the only one," Bobby grumbled. "This feels all sorts of wrong. Usually I wouldn't think much of it but with recent developments..."

Castiel held in a long sigh. He had his suspicions too but he figured Zachariah would've called him if it was related. Or at least he trusted in that. Then again if no one was considering this as anything other than a communication failure they might not have made the connections yet. It did happen. "Well, no matter what we feel, unless we're called in we're not going anywhere."

"So what? We just go home? Call it a night?" Ellen asked.

"You're free to do as you like," Castiel said as he turned to head back into his office. "No one's called us in to investigate any current crimes, you're done with your consult visits, you may go."

"And I suppose you just have 'more paperwork' left to do?" Bobby asked, his tone wryly amused.

"Yes. Paperwork," Castiel muttered as he slipped back into his office.

He trusted in the chain of command, he trusted in his fellow officers and the FBI and CIA. If something was wrong... they would've been told. Maybe they'd already figured it all out but their sector wasn't important enough to inform. Both of the Winchester's phones were probably just dead. If they'd been left on all these hours trying to search for a signal they'd be drained by now. They just hadn't had a chance to call personally and it wasn't like either of them had any of their numbers memorized.

It was nothing, Castiel told himself as he dug his pen into the soft paper of the reports he had to finish.

Everything was fine.

… … … … … … … … … … … .. .. .. .. .. . . . . . . . . .

A sharp crashing noise interrupted the silence at the clinic; followed by Pam's yelling. "Oh my god!"

Dean and Sam rushed into the room on Doctor Lee's tail. They froze at the door and stared at the vial of blood, now shattered on the ground. Pam was in tears. "Is it on me? Is it on me!?"

"Calm down Pam," Doctor Lee said but Dean could see her fingers trembling as she moved forward. "Did you get cut?"

Pam tried to keep her sobs in control as she examined her hands and then her feet. Some of the glass shards and bounced against her shoes but hadn't imbedded themselves. Gently, Doctor Lee guided her out of the way of the shards before sitting her down on a bench. "I think you seem okay."

"Fuck," Dean whispered, leaning against the door, the tension sagging out of him. "Doc, you sure this thing can't go airborne?"

"I have no way of knowing, but so far it doesn't look like it."

"Why are we staying here? Why can't we just go!?" Pam shrieked. Her palms were clammy and sweaty and she kept wiping them down on her scrubs.

Sam took in a deep breath and ruffled his hand through his hair, "She's right, we can't stay here, we gotta get help. If no one's here yet we need to get some help. We gotta get out of here and call Quantico; if nothing else."

"Everyone in this town is good with riffles. Leaving our little barricade will be hard as hell. Unless you've got some explosives," Mark said with a rough snort.

"Well," Sam puffed out a bit of air and his eyes wandered, "there's plenty here to make alcohol bombs out of."

"That could work," Mark said, glancing around the supplies. "Let's get started."

With most of the towns people either dead or murderously violent, it wasn't likely that a few bottles would be missed. They would make sure to leave enough to help those injured and still alive.

"Where'd you learn that?" Dean asked, chuckling.

"It's basic chemistry, Dean," Sam shot back as they started pulling bottles down from the shelves.

"I don't remember this being in the textbook," Dean mumbled.

"Probably would've helped if you'd regularly gone to class."

"Shut it, bitch."

"Jerk."

Sam nearly dropped the bottle he was holding at a loud banging at a far off door.

"What the hell?" Dean cursed as he pulled out his side arm. "Mark!" They inched towards the door and the frantic banging. "Can you see who it is? Do you recognize him?"

Mark leaned forward and glanced out the small window. "It's the Tanner boy."

Dean turned to look behind him and raised his eyebrows at Sam. He wasn't sure how to ask the marine if it was the one Sam hadn't been able to shoot when they'd confronted the Tanner family or their other boy.

"It's Duane."

Dean lowered his gun a little and gave thanks to small miracles. "Should we let him in?"

"He looks like he's hurt."

"If he's hurt then let him in!"

They both turned to see Doctor Lee marching up the corridor to them.

"He could be infected," Sam tried, resting a hand on her shoulder and keeping her back.

"It's still my job to help people."

Mark and Dean shared a look and inched around the door. Dean let it fly open and they both swung around to him. The boy froze with his fist in the air, eyes wide and shocked. "Wha-at?"

"Keep your hands where I can see 'em. Sam! Rope."

"What are you- I'm hurt- Where are my parents? My brother? What's happened?"

"Just keep calm, Duane. It's gonna be okay," Mark said as they moved further back. He jerked the tip of his gun towards the inside, urging the boy to move forward.

"Be careful," Dean muttered as Sam inched forward with rope. "Let's get him to a chair."

He ignored Doctor Lee's dirty look. Yeah she had a job to do but so did Dean. He kept his gun trained on the boy. "You're bleeding," Dean said, voice cold.

Tension crept into the room. Pam was shaking in the corner, her eyes darting nervously around the small group.

"Anyway we can make sure?" Mark asked, keeping his gun trained on the Tanner boy.

"Can we risk it?" Dean asked, lining up his sidearm to the boy's forehead.

Duane started crying. "I'm not- what are you talking about? I'm fine."

"Doctor Lee!" Dean barked out.

She jolted a little and took in a deep breath. "I could take a blood sample. Though there's an incubation period. I tested it with-" she took in a deep breath "- Mrs. Tanner...We would have to wait until it shows up in the blood."

"He could've attacked the rest of us by then," Dean argued.

"Well it's worth a shot right! Dean, you can't just shoot a kid," Sam hissed, moving forward. His hand hovered in the air, careful not to touch his brother's arm. While he wasn't a fan of the idea he couldn't deny the real possibility of a psychotic break. It'd be dumb as hell to impede his brother's movements.

"How many hours?"

"Three, four, tops," Doctor Lee said, voice firm.

"Take the blood," Dean said, lowering his gun. "But so help me, if you move an inch, before the doctor clears you. Your brains are on the wall."

Duane nodded shakily, tears dripping from the corners of his eyes. He watched as the doctor moved forward. Dean admired her abilities. Even in the stressful situation her hands never shook and the blood was collected in a manner of minutes.

"What now?" Mark asked as Doctor Lee walked past them to the part of the clinic she'd set up as her lab.

"Now we finish up the bombs," Dean said as he tucked his gun away.

They worked in tense silence, one of them always glancing at the clock every few minutes. After four hours they'd run out of bomb making supplies and all that was left was to wait to see if they would have to shoot the kid. Dean hovered near the doorway to the lab, anxious and trying not to listen to Duane's soft sobs.

"He's clean," Doctor Lee finally announced.

"Oh thank god," Pam whispered, collapsing against the wall.

Tears of relief flowed from Duane's eyes and Dean relaxed. For a moment he let himself think about what could've happened if he'd just shot the kid like he'd planned. The thought passed as quickly as it came.

"All right, well now that we know we're all good we might as well prepare an escape," Dean said as he walked out, the doctor and Mark trailing behind him.

He marched to one of the windows and peeked out. Even if phone lines were down he was thankful for have the streetlights still functioning. "Think we can all fit nice and cozy into the car?" Dean asked as he glanced at the clock. Their group dispersed to grab emergency supplies. There was no way that the FBI hadn't noticed two agents missing at this point; so where the hell was the cavalry?

"Yeah I think so," Mark began as he double checked his shotgun.

"All right let's get everyone rounded up-"

They both jumped at a loud crashing sound.

"Dean!"

Dean's heart stopped and a cold chill swept along his body.

Sam.

He took off down the hall and elbowed the door open. Pam was on top of Sammy, her palm pressed against his chest. Without hesitation he raised his gun and fired three clean shots into her body. She jerked and then fell to the side, leaving Sam panting next to her. Sam reached out, hand shaky and Dean bent to drag him up. Mark's strong hand tugged him back from his shoulder.

"She bled on him."

Dean's knee's nearly buckled.

"He's got the virus."

Ignoring Mark's warning he reached down and pulled Sam up. "Doc!" He dragged Sam up, not paying attention to the way he was wincing and holding his chest. "I need you to check him! Now!"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Careful!" Mark snapped, rounding the corner and coming in between Doctor Lee and them. "Pam's dead and he's infected."

"We don't know that for sure," Dean said, shoving Sam into an empty examination room and forcing him to sit on one of the tables. "Check his wound."

Her eyes frantic, Doctor Lee walked to the cabinet and pulled out rubber gloves before approaching Sam slowly. She peeled back the edge of the collar of his shirt and tried not to wince. It was deep, and the blood was smeared. "I-"

"What?"

"Dean-" Sam started.

"No, shut up."

"You know what we gotta do," Mark said steadying his grip on his lowered gun.

"No one's shooting my brother," Dean snapped, shoulder's hunched and anger vibrating off of his body.

"He's not gonna be your brother much longer!" Duane protested, inching into Dean's space. "You were all ready to shoot me a few hours ago!"

"If you don't shut your piehole I still just might."

"Dean, they're right. I'm infected; just give me the gun and I'll do it myself," Sam sighed.

"Forget it"

"Dean, I'm not gonna become one of those things."

"Sam, we've still got some time."

Mark stepped forward, giving both of the boys pitying looks, "Time for what? Look, I understand he's your brother, and I'm sorry, I am. But we gotta take care of this." He put his shotgun away and reached into his pocket for a hand gun. The blow in such a small space would harm others.

"I'm gonna say this one time — you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. You understand me? I mean, do I make myself clear?!" Dean snapped, hand hovering over his own weapon.

"Then what are we supposed to do?!"

Dean frowned, staring at his brother and then to the small ragtag group that was left. He figured this was emergency and technically they weren't even stealing a federal car since Dean was willingly giving the keys to them. Should he write a memo? Damn it. This wasn't good. This wasn't... There was still things to do and fuck. He reached into his back pocket and threw Mark the keys to the borrowed van.

"Get the hell out of here, that's what. Take my car. You've got the explosives, there's an arsenal in there. You two go with him."

"What about you?" Mark asked, pocketing the keys.

Dean stepped back towards the counter, leaning on it a little. He couldn't even look at Sam. He knew his brother wasn't going to like this. A rueful smile played on his lips as Sam finally realized what his plan was.

"Dean, no. No. Go with them. This is your only chance!"

"You're not gonna get rid of me that easy," Dean said rubbing a tired hand over his face. What he would've given a lot for some cell reception. Make his last calls. There was no way that...

"No, he's right. Come with us," Mark said.

Dean shook his head.

"Okay, it's your funeral."

Doctor Lee gave them a sad smile and Duane stormed out after them.

Sam made protesting noises as Dean walked to the door, looking out of it before locking it. "You know, never thought I would go out like this. I mean hell, I've been in explosions and that didn't kill me."

"Dean, don't be an idiot," Sam said harshly. "I can," Sam swallowed, "I can take care of it. I'm not- I won't." He took in a deep breath. "You're not infected."

"You're an idiot."

"This isn't funny, Dean."

"Wasn't trying to be," Dean said with a laugh. "Besides," he shrugged, thinking of his deal. He had a clock out time anyway. Maybe this way he wouldn't have to pay up.

"You have other people than me depending on you. Lisa-"

"Has moved on."

"-Ben-"

"He'll live. I was kind of a crap father figure anyway."

"Dean, shut up. And if nothing else there's Ca-"

Loud banging on the door interrupted his sentence.

Dean stood, gun secure in his hand and glanced through the window. The doctor had come back. He stared at her for a moment trying to figure out what was wrong. Why hadn't they packed the hell up and left? Could they not get out? Were there too many people with the virus? Was the car surrounded? Fuck.

He leaned his ear towards the glass.

"You'd better come see this," she spoke through the glass.

Dean opened the door slowly, making sure not to make any sudden movements. He raised his eyebrow and glanced at Sam. She nodded and beckoned them to come with her. He still had a few hours to incubate before becoming dangerous. Dean's first reaction to seeing the door wide open was panic. Then his brain caught up with him. Shouldn't they have been rushed by now? Dead and deader?

"It's empty," Doctor Lee said as Dean and Sam joined her outside. There wasn't even the sound of wind rustling.

"You checked everywhere?" Dean asked, walking out into the street.

"Went a few yards in all directions, there's no one left," Mark said.

"What the hell," Dean whispered as he walked down the block a little, checking into each of the shops himself.

This didn't make sense. There'd been people. Bodies. Movement in strange corners...

The town felt dead.

The silence was deafening.

Dean fought a shiver. He'd been in abandoned buildings and areas before but nothing had quite felt like this. Humans naturally made noises, things that filled empty spaces. This town was empty.

Before he could psyche himself out too far a quiet humming whir caught his attention.

"You hear that?" Dean asked, walking back towards the group.

"Hear what?" Sam asked, trying to figure out what his brother was listening to.

The sound got louder. "That."

They fanned out in a circle, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. The streets were empty.

Dean happened to look up and a grin filled his face. If he hadn't had his pride he might've let himself collapse down onto the curb. "About time," he whispered as more sounds joined.

As the helicopter came closer to them on the horizon he heard the beginnings of the wail of sirens. A sense of calm sweep through him as the helicopter passed by. He'd never felt so relieved to see the black stamp of 'F.B.I.' in his life.

… … … … … … … … … … … .. .. .. .. .. . . . . . . . . .

Castiel's entire body loosened as he spotted Dean and Sam. Even so far away and inside of a car he could tell it was them. Though, it didn't completely lessen his feeling of dread for the situation. Especially since he didn't know if either of the brother's were okay.

The town was abandoned. There were cars piled in the streets, broken shop windows, and blood on the ground but no bodies. It looked like something out of a horror story.

"I think we need a quarantine," Castiel mumbled to Bobby who grunted in agreement.

"I'll get on it, you make sure those boys are in one piece."

He opened the car door and stood for a moment outside of it. He couldn't find a single scenario that would explain the amount of wreckage. Castiel let the door slam shut and walked towards Dean, hiding the trembling of his arms. Dean looked tired. Worn around the edges. His arms twitched and ached to reach out and hold him, to pull him close and cradle that haunted look from his eyes.

"What happened?"

Dean laughed and the sound was bitter. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Dean swallowed thickly and shook his head. He glanced around them for a moment before staring into Cas' eyes. "It's damn good to see you, man. I thought-" he sighed gently. "Never mind. Just. Took you long enough."

Guilt crawled into Castiel's gut. "I didn't have permission, I couldn't just-"

"Abandon your post and run off. Regulations and jack, yeah I know," Dean muttered and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Glad you're here though."

"Of course."

"If you want answers though we should probably go talk to the good doctor," Dean glanced around for a moment. "And uh-" Dean's voice wavered as his eyes darted to Sam. His brother hadn't moved or said anything since the cars had pulled up. "Can we make this private?" he whispered, hands shaking a little.

"Oh," Castiel said before turning around to the other agents with him. "Fan out and search the city, I want to know where these people went!" Dean wouldn't have asked him if it was important. Demanding was more his style.

This couldn't be good.

Satisfied that his orders were going to be followed he trailed after Dean. Sam wouldn't look him in the eye as they passed, Dean latching onto the sleeve of Sam's jacket and dragging him into the clinic. They followed Dean down the hall until they came to a small examination room. A woman was already standing there, her eyes darting nervously from Sam to Dean.

Dean closed the door.

"Is there something I should be aware of?" Castiel asked, feeling dread. The anxiety felt like a physical weight in the air.

"My name is Doctor Lee," she extended her hand which Castiel shook. "And to make a long story short," she took in a deep breath and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "I already told the other FBI agents to call the CDC and get a quarantine ready-"

"They've already started setting up," Castiel assured her.

"There was- something," her voice wavered, "-I think it was a virus, it- I don't understand quite how it works but I have samples that I took from those infected. It's passed by blood contact and it's nothing like I've ever seen before. I can't think of a single virus that could cause such drastic personality changes in an entire population. Any type of rapid change, especially to violence outside of a bipolar disorder is usually linked to specific mental illness; though I suppose if we can ship the bodies to a bigger facility we can try and see if it created any abnormalities in the brain."

"Drastic personality changes?" Castiel asked, feeling more confused than when he'd first walked in.

"Controlled insanity. Those infected were cognitively aware and were coherent but there was a terribly level of violence to them. The wreckage you see outside? The towns people just started attacking each other," Doctor Lee said as she started organizing the sample's she took. "The only thing I've even heard in recent years are studies on patients with Lyme's Disease developing violent behavior after years of infection. But nothing like this."

Castiel turned to Dean, "What happened?"

Dean's fingers clenched and unclenched and he glanced at his brother again. He'd been doing that awfully often since they'd arrived. Castiel's eyes widened and shock reverberated through his body.

"Wait- is Sam?"

The younger brother looked up at him guiltily before dropping his gaze and scooting to the examination table, sitting down on it, exhausted. "Pam," Sam started and coughed and swallowed spit trying to get his vocal chords to work. "She was ah- a nurse, here. She was infected and she cut me and she-," Sam shrugged. "And here I am."

"You don't seem to be exhibiting any behaviors of violence," Castiel said as he pulled his phone out.

"There's an incubation period. It's a few hours, though so far it's been a little varied. Three hours minimum. It's how long it took Mrs. Tanner to... well."

"And where are they now?" Castiel asked.

"I shot 'em," Dean said without any indication of remorse. "They're piled in the morgue."

Castiel took in a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. "One problem at a time. Doctor Lee, how long has it been since Sam was infected?"

"A few hours at this point," she said checking the clock. "I'd say he has one more hour until the three hour mark but we can't be sure how long it would take for it to set in."

"Have you already taken a blood sample? Never mind, take a fresh one," Castiel said as he put the phone to his ear. It rang twice before someone picked up. "I want the clinic closed off. No one in or out until the CDC arrives. Let them know we have a lethal virus – yes good, I'm glad the town is quarantined now listen- there is an unidentified lethal virus that could quite possibly spread and no one is to come in or out of the clinic until CDC has cleared it"

"We're locked in?" Sam asked, hands shaking. "You guys should leave- this is. You can't just hole up in here, what if I -"

"You'll be fine Sam," Dean tried, running his fingertips over the edge of his gun to calm himself.

"I'm afraid we are," Castiel spoke to them, keeping the phone away from his mouth. "Those other two men with you? Are they infected?"

"No, I don't think so," Doctor Lee said.

"We can't take that risk." Castiel lifted the phone back to his ear, "The two civilians with you? Keep them locked until a blood test can be done. Yes they were in contact with the infected people in question but Doctor Lee doesn't think they are infected- yes. Please let me know." He flipped his phone shut and tucked it away, giving both of the Winchester's a stern look. "What did you get yourself into?"

"We didn't get ourselves into jack! You're the one who sent us here!" Dean snapped, squaring up and moving into Castiel's personal space. His frustration and anger was radiating off of him in waves. If Castiel wasn't careful he could end up on the ground with a bloody nose.

"Dean, I want you to listen carefully. We're going to do everything we can for your brother, but I need you to calm down."

"I am calm!"

"Dean," Sam said, voice low as they argued.

"Control your temper. We're going to have to isolate Sam-"

"The hell you are!"

"Dean," Sam repeated, louder this time.

"We can not be in the same room as him. If he becomes violent we will have to have a way to contain him."

"So you can do what? Put him down like a dog?"

"Agent Winchester, there are procedures that must be followed in a deadly viral outbreak. You are no exception. Sam will be taken into custody and taken care of."

"What?! And poke around at him like he's a damn lab rat?! Fuck you."

"May I remind you Agent Winchester that I am still your superior and I order you to vacate this room."

"Like hell I-"

"Dean!" Sam snapped, banging his and on the table. Doctor Lee jumped a little next to him, having been startled by the noise. "You got your wish, nobody's shooting anybody. And I can sit in a room by myself until CDC clears me. I told you, I'm not letting anyone else get infected with it. This is a better option than me taking care of it myself, isn't it?"

Dean's arms trembled as he tried to keep himself from lashing out.

"Doctor Lee," Castiel said calmly, guiding her to the side, samples in hand. She stepped out of the room without a glance back. He turned his cool eyes to Dean.

Sam shared a quick look with him before sliding off the bench. He grabbed Dean by the arm, which of course he shook loose in one quick, jerky motion. "Dean, go. I'll be fine."

Not giving him room to argue, Castiel yanked Dean by his bicep, through the door, satisfied when he heard a locking sound behind him.

"I'm not letting him die alone," Dean whispered angrily, shoving at Castiel.

"No one said anything about dying, Dean."

Dean pushed at him again, this time yanking him back by curling his fists into his jacket. "You don't know anything Cas. You didn't see them. They were-" Dean shook his head and shoved Cas away again. He slumped into a chair and kept his gaze down. "I can't even look at you right now"

"And here I thought you were happy to see me," Castiel whispered. Usually he would've been across the room by now, one hand rubbing soothing circles on the other man's back. It pained him to take further steps back to give Dean his space. It was obvious to see he wasn't welcome.

"If he dies in there, if he goes crazy alone and you didn't-" Dean took in a deep breath and looked up, "I will never forgive you. If he becomes some science experiment or lab rat and you didn't let me do anything about it. I will never forgive you."

"Of course, Dean," Castiel said, his voice hushed and strained. Silence hung between them. "I believe I'll go check on the progress with the doctor."

"You do that," Dean snapped.

Castiel walked into the corridor and instead of heading straight to the doctor he paused in an empty room. One of the other strange things had been that when they'd arrived the cell towers had been up and functioning just fine. In this case it was a well timed blessing. He needed to call Zachariah. Nothing about the situation felt right. His call went unanswered and he was transferred to a different branch where he left a succinct message. Castiel gripped his phone tightly and stayed in the silent, dark room. He told himself he wasn't avoiding what was going on but needed a moment to gather himself. With the Seven escaping and now this? Something big was coming, something unpleasant. He'd learned long ago to trust his gut instinct.

He didn't know how long had passed as he sat in silence until his phone beeped in his hand. A simple text message. 'We've seen something similar before. Get to Langely, Monday.' Castiel banged the back of his head gently against the wall. This was bad.

"Agent?"

Castiel's eyes snapped open and he straightened out. Doctor Lee was standing at the door, a confused expression on her face. "My apologies, I was just making a call."

"Oh don't worry about it. I'm sorry for interrupting but you should come see this."

Castiel followed the doctor out and to an examination room. His brows came together sharply as he noticed Sam sitting with Dean in there. He opened his mouth to protest.

"He's not infected."

"Excuse me?" Castiel asked, turning his full attention to the doctor.

"It's been hours but I don't see anything in his blood. Not even the beginning stages. As I explained to these two- he's clean. I don't know why since we're pretty sure he had direct blood to blood contact but he's fine. Never healthier."

"Thank goodness for that," Castiel muttered. "I suppose that means we're all in the clear."

He avoided looking at either of the brother's as he marched to the door. He knocked on the window next to it and got an officer's attention. He signaled an 'OK' and opened the door. As luck would have it CDC had just arrived. Castiel moved to the side to let them through. They could re-examine Sam and be sure that nothing was wrong with him. He passed the rest of the officers and made it to the car.

"Going somewhere?"

Catstiel turned to find Bobby walking up to him, one eyebrow raised.

"Back. I need to consult with some of our higher officers, let them know that we've located our agents and they seem to be fine. I need to start the papers for the briefings too," his eyes scanned the area crawling with government workers. "Besides, it doesn't look like I'm needed here at the moment. I can be more useful somewhere else."

"If you say so," Bobby replied, tone contrite. "So... a virus, huh?"

"Something like that," Castiel muttered as he opened the car door.

"The boys okay?"

"The local doctor, Doctor Lee, seems to think that Sam will be fine."

"That's good. Dean?"

"Also fine."

"I guess I'll see you at the office." Castiel slid into the car and was about to turn on the ignition when Bobby walked to the window. "One more thing," he looked around them to make sure that everyone else was preoccupied. "I may be old but I'm not an idiot. What do you think? Coincidence?" he asked, talking about the timing and severity of the situation with everything else that had been going on.

Castiel held in a sigh and gripped the steering wheel tightly. "No, I don't think so. What it is, I wouldn't be able to tell you. But I don't like it. Not one bit."

"You'd be crazy to," Bobby grumbled and then smacked the top of the car hood. "We'll see you when everything's cleared here."

Castiel only grunted in response and turned the car to get on the road. No. He didn't like this one bit.

It had felt an awful lot like a field test.

The thought haunted him late into the night. He'd even stayed at the office, knowing that he wouldn't be getting any sleep regardless. He could at least try and get some work done while he battled with the thought produced insomnia. Besides, if Zachariah called he wanted to be close to the phone. If there was a new development he wanted to be the first to know. Castiel was so engrossed in his thoughts that he'd started to pick the phone up without even looking at it. A few times so far it had been Bobby with updates from the field, one call from HR that he usually would've ignored, and a request for a copy of an old file.

As the clock ticked itself away to past midnight his phone rang again.

"Agent Novak."

The voice on the other line coughed. "Uh. Hey. Cas."

Castiel drew in a sharp breath and held it.

"You there?"

"I am," Castiel answered slowly. He wasn't sure what to expect from Dean. His temper and stress, while understandable with the constant barrage of bad news the Winchester's seemed to receive, was a sharp weapon. He wasn't in the mood to be torn apart again.

"I tried you at home but you didn't answer and you didn't answer your cell-" Castiel glanced over to the side where his phone lay. He'd forgotten to take it off of silent. "- so I figured I'd try you at the office. What are you even doing there so late?"

"Work," Catiel said, drumming his fingers on the table. He felt nervous.

There was a deep sigh on the other line, followed by a frustrated huff. "Look, Cas. I'm an ass, okay and just-"

"Dean, please, there's no need."

"No, look. Just. We just got back, Sam's fine. He uh- they're not letting him come to work for awhile. For the legal sector or us. He's kinda grounded but fine and I still feel like I'm fuckin' crawling on the walls here and I'm a jack ass I know and-"

"Dean," Castiel said, hoping the one word would get him to hurry and get to his point.

"Fine, whatever. Can you forget about me being an ass and just- I don't want to be-" Dean gave a frustrated sigh.

A small knot untied itself in Castiel's stomach. "Dean?"

"There's a little cafe around the corner of the office that's open 24/7. It's not the best pie in the world but they make damn good coffee."

Castiel chuckled quietly to himself and leaned back in his chair. How was it that with something so simple he was already feeling uplifted. "Don't you have to watch over Sam?"

"He's passed out like a log. And we've got a new security system and an FBI guard dog in a van outside. They didn't want to take any chances with Sam's- well you know. Anyway- You could get that fine ass of yours over here too if you wanted but I kinda wanna kiss you."

The chair creaked as Castiel pushed it back, standing up. "I'll see you there in ten minutes."

"All right. Awesome. And thanks."

The last part of Dean's sentence had come out rushed and mumbled, barely even there, but it had been enough for Castiel. Tragedy and viral diseases be damned, they were going to get to see each other again. With a small grin trying to form he wondered if there was a way he could coax Dean to stay at his apartment for a few hours. His bed had been too empty as of late and it would be nice to have the sheets smell of Dean again.

… … … … … … … … … … … .. .. .. .. .. . . . . . . . . .

Sam woke up to a quiet apartment and let himself breathe in bed calmly. Normally he would've clung to the last few minutes of his sleep tightly but he was just happy to be awake. He'd honestly thought that there would be no more mornings in his future. He sat up and swung his long legs over the side of the bed before stretching.

"Dean?" he called out, stepping out of his bedroom into the kitchen.

While his brother wasn't an early riser, 1PM was at least a normal time for him to be around. He wandered around the apartment, anxious for a moment before he noticed a sticky note on the door.

'out with Cas for a bit, call if you need anything'

"Out with Cas, right," Sam chuckled to himself. He'd been wondering how long it would take him to head back to the other man's apartment. He wouldn't have even thought anything about it if hadn't been for the way Dean had religiously avoided going out with Castiel after their move out. He wasn't quite sure what the deal was between them but there was at least something. The guy had picked them up from the airport, Sam could tell they were already friends. He'd never noticed Dean keeping in touch with Castiel after the OKC bombing but apparently they had. It was odd that he'd skirt around the only friend he had in a new city. The thought made him plan a visit to the cafe he'd worked at. He missed them.

His brother was an idiot. But at least they were both alive to appreciate that.

Deciding to indulge in a quiet morning, he figured he had the right after nearly dying (he didn't dwell too long on the fact that he'd nearly put a gun to his own brain) he was entitled to it. (He also didn't try to think too hard about the fact that Dean had been ready to die with him.) Sam passed by his usual places, wanting to try something new. He'd visit the cafe later. He had plenty of time to explore seeing as he had about a week's worth of mandated medical leave.

All in all as far as catastrophic aftermath's went, the day felt easy to him. Maybe because it'd been accidental? He brushed the thoughts out of his mind, determined not to think about anything that wasn't being grateful that he was alive. He even indulged himself in french fries and a burger.

"Hello Sam."

Sam jumped at the voice and froze. A woman slid onto the other side of the booth from him. "You," he said, body tense.

"You remember," she said with a smile.

"I do," Sam said as he pulled his phone out, starting to dial the number for the FBI office.

The woman reached over and yanked the phone from his hand. "Now that's rude. I save your life and you try and call the cops on me?"

Sam stared at her, one hand gripping the table tightly. "Are you FBI?" She just smiled and swished her hair back. The motion triggered something in his memory. "I've- I've seen you on the legal floor, at the-"

"FBI, yes I know. Not much gets by you, huh?" she laughed and reached over to grab one of his fries.

"Mmm. These are amazing. It's like deep-fried crack. Try some."

"Why are you following me? Sam asked, eying his phone. It rested on the table next to her hand.

"I'm interested in you."

"Why?"

"Because you're tall. I love a tall man. And then there's the whole antichrist thing."

"Excuse me?" Sam said, sitting up in his chair.

"It's just a nickname, sorry, it means nothing." The woman grinned and dipped another fry in ketchup. "But speaking of evil things and evil people. The Azazel incident, who knew you'd be the one to survive it?"

Sam's leg twitched and he leaned forward, lowering his voice. No one that wasn't there was supposed to know about it. It'd been classified, he knew that much. He wasn't even able to get into his own files on it, and he was good at information finding. Cold sweat dripped down his back. "How'd you know about that?"

"I'm a good agent," she said with a smile. She reached over for another fry and gently slid his phone back to him. "Anyway- more on point. I shouldn't be so surprised. Well, I'm thinking you're still a pretty big deal. I mean, after all that business with your mom."

"What about my mom?" Sam asked, his heart thundering in his chest.

"You know, what happened to her friends." She paused and stared at him. Sam felt frozen to his seat. A knowing expression dawned on her face. "You ... don't know...You've got a little bit of catching up to do, my friend. So, why don't you look into your mom's pals…" the woman dug around her jacket and pulled out a pen. Sam let his hand be maneuvered as she leaned over and grabbed his palm. She scribbled a number onto it. "…and then give me a call and we'll talk again?"

"You know I'm going to report seeing you," Sam said, body tense as she got up to leave.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't think you will, but Sam, I'd get on that information if I were you."

Sam bit his lip, struggling between what he should do. What she'd said about their mom and what she'd known about his kidnapping.

Something wasn't right.

Then again something hadn't been right in a long, long, time.

He tucked his phone back into his coat pocket and told himself he'd check it out first. He'd look into the information and then share what he found with his brother and the FBI.

Sam just had to know for himself first.

A/N: -On the windshields in cop cars. I'd have to find the exact research and episodes of law enforcement documentary that I watched but they have re-in forced glass now that's made to me be able to shoot out easy from the inside to prevent blow-back of shards.

Also on the Lyme's disease, there are people coming out with studies (I haven't found any HUGE sources to credit so fan logic? It seems more like a pseudo-science, I've only found a handful of articles on this) that people with Lyme's disease experience severe personality changes, usually towards violence or suicide?

Sorry for the lack of fun things but don't worry I'll make up for it the next chapter. Schmoozing, sex, and serial killers. And I've already got 7 pages written so, :) And remember! This story caps off at 30 so we're nearing the end. (All chapters have been completely ironed out except 29 and 30.)

Also any characters you'd like to see before the end super expanded on? I have my plans of course but I I figured I'd ask for reader input. :)

Also, please do send your love to K [ buttfulmavinness on tumblr] because oh lord she puts up with so much from me and my lazy, long taking writing. She's a gem. :)

Also x3 I've taken a lot of liberties with this chapter.