AN-Finally, the third chapter of rewrites. Hopefully, I won't have to do this again.
Gabriel kicked the motel door open. Bits of wood rained down as he quickly assessed his target. It was against protocol to go in alone and without a plan, but he be damned if he was going to let Cas down. He'd rather die in the line of duty than see the corpse of his friend on the coroner's lab table.
"Don't move!"Gabe yelled out, pointing his gun at a man with a brunette buzz cut and another man standing next to him with long brown hair.
Both men held their hands up in surrender. Gabe stared at the two men when something clicked. These were the guys from before trying to get details about Cas' case. What kind of FBI kidnaps people and kills women. There was no other way he could think of that he had found his friends coat at the crime scene unless they were involved.
"Look," Dean said cautiously," There's been a misunderstanding. Just calm down and we can talk about this."
Gabe glared at the shorter of the two men, focusing his aim. From the corner of his eye he could see a familiar uniform. The officer's shoulders relaxed slightly when he made out Cas' messy black mop. The younger officer watched from his position on the bed, stunned to see his partner so focused doing his duty.
"So Cassie," Gabe stated almost casually. "Should I ice these douche bags now or later?"
Sam flinched at the implication. He had never imagined that his brother's dumb decisions would have them both staring down the barrel of a gun. Dean had done some idiotic things, but he sure as hell didn't want to pay for it with a prison sentence.
"No. I'm quite alright." Castiel answered, rising to his feet to greet the other man. "There is no need for violence."
Gabriel looked almost put out when he lowered his weapon slightly. The officer was absolutely ecstatic the other man was alive and healthy, but he did his best to keep his cool. Bad enough he had all those messages left on Cas' phone to make him look like a wuss. He didn't want it to look way worse when he burst in here completely unhinged. To be honest, Gabe had really thought about going all cowboy shootout on the way in. He had never gotten this upset before and he'd be damned if no one was going to give him some answers after all the hell they put him through.
"What happened to you, Castiel?" Gabe asked the other man. "You flat out disappeared and I find out that you're playing FBI with these two guys? You've been posted as missing."
Castiel tried to think of how to word his response. He cleared his throat, hoping Gabe wouldn't pick it apart.
"I was missing. A woman tied to the case Agents Ferguson and Walker were looking into faked a call for help and took me hostage for a short time. Agent Walker was able to free me while Ferguson handled the woman."
Gabriel frowned.
"We uncovered a decapitated body today, Cas. That was their doing? Also, why didn't they take you to the hospital to be checked out instead of this roach motel?"
The other man sighed heavily and looked down at his scuffed and filthy black shoes. Any rational person would take a hostage victim to a medical professional, even a slacker like Gabe.
"A lot went on in the past several hours. I was well enough to not need to waste the time of a doctor and the Agents were filling me in on the details of their case. The body your team found is most likely tied to my and their cases. I apologize if this is a bit hard to take in. I'm still putting the pieces together, myself."
That seemed good enough for him. Gabe holstered his weapon and moved to take in the others appearance, seeing for himself that there would be no surprise visits to the ER.
Dean visibly relaxed, hoping for no more interruptions while Sam watched the gunhoe officer put away his weapon. The younger hunter plucked Cas' cell phone from the mess that was his laptop station and held out the device to the two men.
"Here. I'm sorry he wasn't able to return your calls. Castiel was really tired after his ordeal and wasn't in any shape to deal with what was going on."
Sam placed the cell into Gabriel's hand and stepped back bashfully. Gabe stared, almost awestruck by the lumberjack of a man.
"DAY-ummm…."
"Gabriel," Castiel chastised immediately with an elbow to his side, "Behave."
The blonde man blushed severely at his own action. Now was not the time to get distracted by a giant moose, no matter how adorkable said moose was with his stupid long hair and stupid puppy eyes.
"Seems like we may have to clue them both in on the truth, then?" A jovial Dean remarked from the other side of the room.
Sam rebuttalled with a pointed look, the act not slowing Dean down a bit.
"Cas is onboard. As for shrimpy here-," The hunter said with a jerk of his thumb. "He's all yours. Work your charm, Sammy."
It had been nearly an hour later after quite a lot of explaining and he was glad he had told the other to lose his weaponry. Gabriel had sputtered, yelled, and nearly thrown a fit several times. If he had his gun handy, there was no telling what he'd do.
"I'm telling the truth. Even Cas had seen it for himself." Sam stated calmly. "This isn't some weird Area 51 brainwashing trick or an episode of Pranked. It's real and I can show you something simple like a protection charm ritual to prove it."
Gabriel pouted the expression pitifully childish in contrast to his uniform and position. He really didn't believe them, but he believed Cas.
"Sooo….if I actually play along with this crap, the killings stop and Cassie and I get to leave without having to look back on it or Cas being obsessed with this case anymore? I mean, the state of the bodies are in is pretty fucked up."
Sam nodded. He couldn't agree more that the witches needed to be put down. From what the brothers have gathered from both officers is that there was a LOT more witches than they initially thought. LA was a huge city and the surrounding cities could easily harbor hundreds more without question. No one really questioned the weirdness of the city because of the rich people, the gangs, and the full on crazy homeless that dotted the landscape. It just became background noise and a witch could easily blend in, rather a coven or two. They needed back up and some insight on their plan. Dean wouldn't like it.
"Well, looks like we got ourselves one hell of a case, Sammy." Dean blurted out, all false bravado. "So how many witch killing bullets can we make up in the next, few days?"
Sam shook his head at the notion they could do something like this by themselves.
"Not enough. We don't even know how many witches we're looking at."
"At least 25," Castiel said in reply.
A broad smile stretched across Dean's face as he watched the other man take over Sammy's laptop and quickly key in information at a speed that would give his brother a run for his money. Cas could easily look into logs from Gabe's tablet and find all the crap that would take hours of hacking for them. Cas was a godsend.
"Dude, I so love you right now." Dean blurted out before catching himself.
The moment the words left Dean's mouth the hunter froze, wide eyed and rubbed the back of his head nervously while all eyes were on him.
"I mean, uh—good job with the research. Yeah!"
Cas snorted, actually snorted. How could he be so calm?
"Dean," Sam reasoned carefully. "We need to call Bobby or something. This is way outside our range."
The two hunters didn't agree with each other. They could handle something as simple as witches on their own, right? The two continued to argue as Gabriel moved to stand over his partner to see the lists of crimes that matched their MO.
"Pigs blood, elk horn, marble basin….I've seen this on one of my ex's lists."The blonde said wistfully.
He thought over the late night calls that he received from dispatch about local hipster stores being robbed late at night. Between the stench of patchouli and sage, it was hard to take the bleary eyed owners seriously when they say that only little things like a vintage stone bowl and crystals were missing from their inventory. The time of the year did match to cultish things and he had seen his fair share of weird in his career.
"This was around Halloween last year." He continued to say, keeping himself on track. "Thought the horn was for her dog to chew on and the rest of that stuff was to scare a few local kids."
Castiel put down the electronics he held down with a pensive expression and looked toward his partner.
"Yes. You did suffer quite a bit of bad luck after that. It was early December you broke off your relationship with the woman and you had bad luck ranging from a flat in the middle of winter to staining the seat of your pants with chocolate donut glaze."
Gabriel was mortified at Cas's bluntness. He didn't want smooth, tall, and handsome to know that he sat in chocolate and made it look like he had shit himself.
"Is there anything else you remember about this ex?"
Sam moved quickly into Gabe's personal space, excited to be on an actual lead instead of the next oncoming headache. Oh Lord, he was close. Gabriel could hardly reach Sam's shoulder in height alone, but that didn't stop him from feeling like a red faced loon just being this close to him. Things like this always tend to make his mind wander. Just like how he could imagine getting plowed by a guy like Sammy-kins here. What power could a man like that throw into a thrust in the heat of the moment? Damn it all! Gabe, Focus. They're talking again!
"I uh-I heard her talking to someone all 'hush hush' a few times we were together." Gabriel stammered trying to clear his head of his dirty thoughts. " She almost always stepped out to take calls anyway. Said it was her aunt. Didn't really believe her too much, but I wrote it off because they said stuff like "gathering tools, power, we will strengthen, no doubt." You get the gist. It went on for a long time and she was so distant I broke it off. She was totally pissed."
Dean nodded he was surprised tiny here had gotten away with a bruised ego. Witches never took rejection well.
"I assume they would be finding a way to pool their resources much like a prison riot?" Castiel pondered calmly. "It makes sense, but why would they need power for?"
Dean shrugged. He didn't know witches. He just knew they needed to be put down and they were gross. They used rotten animals and bodily fluids and he wanted no part in that. The only thing he needed to do now was some old fashioned footwork. Sammy and the others could stay here playing study group and he could get some beer and checkout if anything looked off.
It was now much later after Dean had left the pseudo safety of their now busted motel and was seriously surprised that no one called the 'cops' after pipsqueak broke their door. He guessed that's what you get when you pay $55 for a motel in expensive ass city like LA. They didn't even ID and get info on his car if he high tailed it out of here after tearing shit up. Dean tossed a case of cheap beer in the backseat he picked up at local gas station and surveyed his surroundings. Of course, it was on the 'bad' side of town, but for this place nothing seemed too off. Bums yelling at a barrel fire, check, rat scuttling trash can to trash can, check, half broken street lights and dented everything, check.
He wasn't one for this city and that was one of the many reasons the Hunter avoided places like this. Some thug could hassle you and then you'd get arrested for having a demon killing knife in your coat pocket with six fake ID's. It was bad enough when Sammy went to a nearby city from here to study at Stanford. That was a place for high class rich morons where you could get a damn good education and not have to see a bum's ass while he pisses. I mean, come on!
Dean turned himself away from the sight and avoided everything from the over-makeuped hookers smoking from the edge of the building to the guys in low hanging grey sweatpants until a flash of tan fabric and dark hair caught his eyes. Is that, Cas? Gabe had given back his trench coat when everything settled down earlier that evening. Had the little idiot left the motel to God knows where? Getting a better look at the man proved without a doubt he was right. Son of a bitch. Cas had tied the tan overcoat closed and covered his uniform. A cop on foot would stir trouble with the locals and a too easy target for wannabe gang members on this side of town.
Dean turned over his Baby's engine, determined in finding out what Cas was up to.
Castiel delved down an alley near Wattman's Distribution Center. It would be several hours until early morning when the first shift workers came in to unload trucks. Not much traffic came this way due to the many dilapidated buildings surrounding the business. He remembered this place from his early years on the force doing a case. He joked all those years ago that gun deals could go down here and no one would notice just because a lot of the industrial parts of the city were an eye sore. Coincidentally, he had a hunch these witches would look for an out of the way place like this. This was especially true when he recognized some graffiti inside one of these buildings that matched Sam's lore book about warding charms to dissuade locals.
It felt like a long shot, but all he needed to do was see if anything looked disturbed recently and get out. Stealth was the name of the game and Cas thought if anyone had the will or the way to get this done without incident, it would be him. Unbeknownst to the officer, Dean had pulled his car over and parked in the lot of a nearby bar. He still had visual on the other man. He watched him as he slipped into what used to be an old production factory. The place had witch hideout written all over it, at least from what the hunter could see. Dean pulled his gun from his coat after locking his Baby and loaded it with witch killing bullets.
Castiel stepped quietly through the dark and dank factory floor. He held his flashlight low to the ground just so he could just see enough what was in front of his feet. It was nearly overwhelmingly dark and he didn't hear any signs of life until he brushed past the old manager's office. He was closing in on the production floor when the bright flickers of candles and camping lights came into view. Positioned around a large group of women, the floor was highlighted by painted sigils and grime.
"We need one more item," The obviously suburban woman of the group pitched out. "A force that can jumpstart this spell into fruition and we can harness our powers to take over this piece of hell and make it better for our kind."
Castiel wanted to cringe while he situated himself for a better view. That woman seemed like the Private Golf Club type of person, not the warehouse evil plans type. Was this some domination, supremacy thing? The officer moved back from his position to get a better vantage point, but ended up bumping a broken piece of junk, the noise giving himself away. He was so close. He hoped he could hide someplace until they gave up looking for him, but the broken and sparse crates lying around didn't give him much hope. If he ran, they would quickly shift off their meetings to somewhere else and they'd have no leads at all. He had to pull something out of his ass if he had any luck of succeeding. If Gabriel could do it, he was sure he could pull off this miracle.
Dean made it into the building not long after Cas and had reached the scaffolding a floor above where the women stood. There wasn't any time to reach the other man and get the hell out of Dodge. The hunter watched petrified as the cop made his way into the lights the witches set up with a stoic and blank expression on his face. He set his baby blues on the ringleader without pause, before speaking with as much composure he could muster.
"I am Castiel. Angel of the Lord."