Dean was reading Sam's letter into his room. Nothing had changed since their last correspondence. Sam was still seeing the same guy that tormented him since he, Ellen, Jo and Cole went on that mission. He was getting better at ignoring it, but he could not control that guy, that little devil that kept him awake at night and bullied him to his breaking point. Sam described his behavior 'as if he is his own person; I cannot make him go away unless he wants to leave, but he'll just as easily return when he's bored. He's often bored'.

Only in two weeks' time, when another member of the resistance would visit Sam to exchange cassettes and letters, would dean know what Sam thought of Castiel. Dean knew he would make a judgment of his own before revising his point of view when Sam's judgment came to him. But first, he needed to talk to Castiel and interrogate him about the angels in the hospital.

A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts. He folded the letter, hid it under the pillow and then exited his room. Outside waited Garth, who was calm as usual.

"Hi, Garth," Dean said.

"Hi," Garth said, a solemn look on his face. "We need to talk." There was not even a hint of a smile on his face and Dean knew something had to be seriously wrong.

"Is everything all right?" He asked.

Garth nodded. "Yeah, everything's fine. It's just…" he sighed and folded his arm. "I'm staying two weeks, then I'm leaving."

Really? That was what Garth needed to discuss with him?

"Yeah, we talked about that," Dean responded. "You're leaving in two weeks, it's nothing new."

"I know, I know," Garth said, "but I've been saying 'one more month' and 'two more weeks' too often. I'm not extending that period any longer. Not even an emergency will keep me away from my family any longer than I have to. You may need me, but they need me more." He seemed to be glad to have gotten this off of his chest.

"So why are you staying two more weeks if you want to go home?" Dean asked. He wouldn't even mind having to say goodbye to Garth for the last time today. Then again, Garth would never cut a designated period of time short.

"The annual get-together seems like a good place to close off my resistance career," Garth said. A smile came across Dean's face and he nodded slowly.

"One last party." It was one of the few moments of levity when everything was allowed. A designated number of volunteers stood guard – those were the hardliners, the people who did not feel like drinking and dancing and possibly being distracted. True, anything could go wrong, and those people would rather keep everyone else safe. In the meantime, the others were getting drunk and had some much-deserved fun.

"We're going to miss you," Dean said. "You know that, right?"

"You won't let me forget it," Garth said with a smile on his face. That was when Garth turned around and was ready to walk down the hallway again.

"You can stay around if you'd like. Castiel's coming," Dean said. He believed Garth may be interested in seeing the angel whom he had interviewed on his first day. Garth turned to Dean again, a curious look in his eyes.

"What are you looking at?" Dean asked.

"Are you allowing him to walk around on his own and he's coming to your room. Is Bobby okay with that?"

Dean lowered his shoulders and almost sighed while he shot a slightly-annoyed look at the young father. "I don't need his permission for everything," he said. Dean was his own person who did not need any supervision. "As a matter of fact, I do have permission." Bobby didn't mind the angel going to Dean's room, especially because there was nothing on the way that Castiel could share with the angels.

"So, what'll you talk about?" Garth asked; what was the purpose of asking the angel to come over?

Dean shrugged. "There were angels in the hospital. He's got to answer a couple of questions. Not too many."

"You're not gonna ask questions that are too hard, right?" Garth wondered out loud. An angel of his age (only one year an angel), he would not know all of the intrinsic secrets or the locations of many facilities.

"Nah," Dean shook his head, "I just need answers. Wanna stick around?"

Garth did not need to think about the answer for too long. A small smile appeared on his face. "I'd like that."

He walked towards Dean and stood next to him. The two men walked into the room and inside, they waited for Castiel to arrive.

Castiel was summoned to Dean's private room. He was given an exact destination and a small roadmap. He found it without any problems, only taking a wrong turn once or twice on his way. Now his thoughts on the angels as a whole had changed, he no longer sought out resistance secrets. Once his former family found out about him, they might want to extract those secrets from him, so he might be better off not knowing them at all.

Dean wasn't the only one in his room; Garth, the interviewer from the first day, was there as well. He stood next to the young leader and seemed calm, at ease, as if he wasn't afraid to have an angel standing in front of him. This, in turn, made Castiel feel at ease.

"Why did I have to come here?"

"Who were the angels that tried to talk to you in the hospital?" Dean asked.

So, this was an interrogation. "Their names are Gadreel and Uriel. Both have been angels for over fifteen years and therefore, they are extremely skilled. They were both recruited and trained by Zachariah, and they are very respected within the angel community.

"What about their skills?" Garth wanted to know. "What are they good at?"

"They can fly and can heal themselves instantly. Only a killing blow will permanently hurt them. They have knocked out people with a single touch. Gadreel prefers to sneak up on his targets while Uriel would charge and fight you outright. When you see Uriel, there is a big chance Gadreel is waiting in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike." They worked expertly as a team and though they had different approaches, they both wielded the characteristic angel blades, deadly to both humans and angels.

"Do they have any weaknesses?" Dean asked.

Castiel shrugged. "I don't know. They seem invincible, and maybe they are. I can only say their skill and status might make them reckless and arrogant. That might be their downfall, but I can't say. I don't know them personally."

Dean and Garth looked at one another, expecting the other to ask another question. But that was it. They turned their heads to the angel again.

"Thanks for the answers," Dean asked. "That's all. You can go back to work."

Castiel nodded and left the room. From that position, he used the map to lead him back to his cell. Once he arrived there, he could easily find his way to the kitchen.

Marv had not arrived yet. It was strange – he usually shows up on time and he would not miss out on work, not even to write. He loved being in the resistance. He loved being in the kitchen, if it meant he could talk to Castiel and finally had someone to listen while he poured his heart out, to discuss his feelings and life's troubles, especially since Castiel wasn't lying anymore.

Marv eventually arrived. He was only an hour late. He seemed distracted and did not greet Castiel or even acknowledge him or anyone else. Something was seriously off.

"Marv?" He did not respond. He merely grabbed a towel and started doing the dishes. It was as if he was going through the motions, living on auto-pilot.

"Marv." This time, he had heard Castiel. He turned his head and Castiel could not read anything from his face, other than general exhaustion.

"I'm sorry," Marv said, "I'm a little distracted."

"Is there something wrong?" Castiel asked and he found himself genuinely worrying for Marv.

"No!" Marv said nervously. "No, why would something be wrong? With me, of all people! Right?" Castiel frowned.

"If you say so," Castiel said. If Marv didn't want to talk about it, Castiel wouldn't pry the answer out of him. He did hope nothing too bad was going on in his life. After a couple of seconds, Marv put down the plate and the kitchen towel and turned to Castiel.

"Something did happen," he admitted. "I don't know if I want to talk about it. I don't even know what to think of it!" He threw his hands in the air in frustration and reached for the plate. He only just refrained from throwing it on the ground and instead put it back.

"Was it bad?" Castiel wondered out loud.

"I don't know. I- I haven't decided yet," Marv responded. He looked at the ground, and then at Castiel again. "If you don't see me tomorrow, assume that I left this place."

Castiel took a step towards him; it had to truly be bad if he wanted to leave the resistance. There was still some history to record inside this building and for someone who loved to be there when history was happening, him wanting to leave at this moment was very atypical for him.

"Will you take your belongings with you?" Castiel purposely phrased this a little vaguer. It would be suspicious of Castiel outright talked about the documents Marv had been writing – it would be safer if he left them behind instead of taking them with him.

Marv shrugged indecisively. "Maybe. I don't know. I'm not sure what I should do." He sighed deeply and sat down in a chair.

"Then think about it," Castiel suggested. "Look at your options and research on what outcomes might benefit you best. Don't rush it. Just make an informed decision." And if it meant that there were more advantages to Marv leaving the resistance than to him staying, then so be it. So long as it made Marv happy and so long as he made the right choice.

Marv nodded to himself and then looked at Castiel again. "Thanks. I needed to hear that."

Castiel nodded again as an acknowledgment and they continued their work in the kitchen.

After the short interrogation, Dean decided to go back to Charlie. He hadn't seen her yet today and he really needed to go back to her, to help her find out the identity of the Nephilim. This search had turned out to be more complicated than either had thought and Charlie would be pissed if Dean didn't keep his promise to help her.

As Dean walked into Charlie's workroom, he noticed the amount of paperwork that had been spread out across the main desk had been compiled into three neat small piles of about the same height, and a fourth that was taller than the first three combined. And another bonus, Charlie was not frowning when he entered the room, though she wasn't smiling either. It was a good sign, and Dean suspected Charlie had a breakthrough in his absence.

Hey, Charlie," Dean greeted her, "You seem happier than usual."

Charlie turned to him and placed her hands on the table, glancing at the three piles of paper in front of her before looking at Dean again. "I finally got something on our Nephilim."

"That's great!" Dean said and he walked over to her side of the table. The piles had been arranged so they could be easily read from where Charlie and Dean stood.

"I've narrowed down the options to three possible identities," Charlie said. Dean grabbed the top pieces of paper on the first pile. It impressed him she managed to gather that much information on their Nephilim and their family that it warranted creating their own piles.

He read the name scribbled on top of the first paper. "Krissy Chambers."

"She and her father recently moved into the street," Charlie explained. "There is no sign of a mother beyond Krissy's birth. This one might be less likely unless a female angel could not or did not want to abort the baby and carried it to term to leave it with the father."

Dean did not have a good feeling about this first option. If an angel had been pregnant at the time of Krissy's birth – which was about eighteen years ago –, she would have been forced to abort the baby or be killed with the unborn Nephilim. Thus, the option seemed unlikely, but he was still open to accepting this.

He placed the papers back on the first pile and moved on to the middle pile. This time, Dean didn't bother picking up the first pages of the dossier.

"Jesse Turner."

"His story is a little muddier," Charlie admitted. "He was adopted by the Turner family. There are no records of who he was before this adoption. Jesse and his father have been living on the street for a long time. His mother had been murdered by an angel for unknown reasons."

This made the boy more suspicious. Why would an angel bother to kill the adopted mother, unless she knew something she was not supposed to? Unless she did something she shouldn't have? Angels have killed for less than knowing too much. Still, the story of Jesse Turner before his adoption was a mystery, and it may well be an angel conceived him and the biological mother put him up for adoption to get rid of him.

Dean moved on to the third and last pile. He could not physically move closer, however, because Charlie was standing in his way.

"And the last kid?" Dean asked.

"Adam Milligan," Charlie replied. "He and his mother lived in the street for two years. Reportedly he was at home, but his mother was away and she remains missing to this day. If he is the Nephilim, then his mother must know and hasn't shown her face yet, possibly out of fear for being killed as well."

It would make sense to protect yourself from enemies you could not defend yourself from. Dean did hope somewhere she would turn up, so that they may interview her one day.

At the moment, Dean was not willing to make a definitive decision on who he thought the Nephilim was. As of right now, it could be all three of these kids, with different levels of probability.

"Which one do you think it is?" Dean asked Charlie. Because she spent the most time with this case, he hoped that this would give her a better picture of the full situations to come to a better conclusion.

Charlie shook her head. "Until one of these people shows up and we can scrap them from the list, it could be every single one of them."

"At least we have some names," Dean said. They were closer to figuring out this mystery than before. That was a win in his book. "Good work, Charlie."

"I'm taking a break," Charlie said bluntly. Dean nodded.

"You deserve it." After spending three days and longer on this case, she was entitled to not having to look at it for a little while. She could leave the room and do some of the things she liked to do, see the people she wanted to see.

Which reminded him of some news he had to break to her. "Oh, Charlie! I tested the angel, and I don't think he's here to spy on us."

"Really?" Charlie said in an incredulous voice. She always had been opposed to the angel. Knowing he was not working against them had to be the best news she received.

"At least not anymore," Dean said. After he helped out with the fire, Castiel seemed to have made some improvements in his behavior and general stance. He helped out more. He was less grumpy and more open-minded. It had done him well. It was a good call to bring him along, if only for this change.

"I still don't trust him."

"And I understand and respect that. Just don't kill him if you see him walking around without any clear escort or guard, alright?"

"I'll try." Charlie did not seem pleased with the way things were going. Dean hoped she would not give him shit for walking around without supervision. Dean considered her half-promise as a win. One last thing to delete from his long list of things to worry about.

"Great," Dean said. "See you around. Enjoy your break."

With the progress Charlie had made, Dean decided to go to Bobby and fill him in on everything that's happened so far. Being away on a mission for even a week can keep you out of touch with the goings-on inside the bunker, and Bobby would probably like to know about the progress Castiel had made.

Dean would have to do this again when Bobby returned the next time; Bobby would be leaving soon. There have been signs that some of the resistance members they had thought they'd lost were actually living just outside of the city, in the wild unknown. Bobby was going to go there to try and see whether this information was true, and how he could safely return them to the bunker. After eight months, it was time they came home.

Dean also had a busy period ahead. He wanted to explore at least five warehouses in the span of two weeks, one right after the other if he had to. They needed to make progress, not only to please Crowley – who was still being a bitch about the situation – but so they can also make some progress towards figuring out the angels' weak spot. The sooner they had this information, the sooner they could start planning their attack around the weak spot and get rid of them once and for all.