In his final moments, Pete regrets not having made the call sooner. If he'd just sacked up and made the call, maybe all this could have been avoided and he wouldn't be waking up dead dead in just a few seconds. But all is not lost.
He did make a call, he did let his bosses know what was about to go down. What should have gone down, that is.
Those boys, those damnable boys, will get what's coming to them. And so will their father. Pete's death will be avenged in one form or another.
Alistair knows he has a new enemy. The Winchesters will never be safe from him. Not if they live a million years.
This thought makes Pete smile as he dies.
In the back of their father's car, the boys quietly wipe the blood from each others' faces. They don't speak. They wait for their dad.
Miles go by before he breaks the silence.
"Dead?" He asks, making sure.
"Yes," says Dean.
"Both of them?"
"Yes."
Quiet for a minute.
"You both alright?"
"Yessir."
"Yessir."
Quiet again.
"And the Feds?"
"The guy is fine," says Dean, carefully neutral, "The woman got hit."
From behind Dean sees John's head nod as if this is an acceptable loss.
"Do you think she'll be okay?" Sam speaks up.
John doesn't answer.
"I don't know, Sammy, " says Dean.
"Can we find out?"
"It's nothing to do with us," says John gruffly.
Sammy frowns, "Of course it is! It's our fault she was there. And Dean's the one who grabbed the gun!"
John suddenly stops in the middle of the empty road and twists in his seat.
"You did what?"
Dean swallows under his father's piercing glare. His dad doesn't know about Castiel. Doesn't know he is the Angel Dean used to talk about when he was little. Doesn't know that Dean could never, ever stand by and see him get hurt.
"I was just buying time," says Dean and John continues to stare. "It worked."
"Clearly it didn't if a civilian wound up shot," says his dad, always the soldier.
Dean looks down, ashamed
His father's disappointment stings more than he can express. As much as Sam despises him for it, Dean lives and dies by his father's approval. And to have let him down so tremendously is a blow he'll have to work extra hard to recover from. Though, deep down, Dean suspects he never really does recover from that sort of thing, he just... pushes it down. Pushes it down far enough so that he can pile all new shit on top of it. Rinse. Repeat.
He can only find solace in the knowledge that Castiel is safe. Safe because of him. Even if it was his dad's reckless plan that had put him in danger to start with. Dean hopes Castiel never figures out how thoroughly Dean had played him. Dropping all those little breadcrumbs...
Playing up the part of the terrified abuse victim. Oh, so carefully leading him to Bobby. Making a scene at the arcade to guarantee they'd be remembered. Hiding out in an isolated church.
All so Castiel would follow him.
And bring Sheridan and that enforcer right along with him. Ripe for the picking.
If Dean was in the habit of praying to anything besides Castiel, he would have prayed then. Prayed that Castiel never found out the truth.
Because maybe then Castiel wouldn't like him.
And Dean wants, needs, Castiel to like him. To care about him.
He really, really does.
Castiel wakes from strange dreams when he hears his name. It breaks through the rush of blood and hand-shaped scars and long thick blades and guns and sleek black cars. Of churches and absentee Gods and worlds tipped upside down where children were murderers and those meant to serve and protect only stole and lied. Where scary pyromaniacs were innocent and the best of the best could be brought down by a single wayward bullet.
The single syllable comes whistling through, bringing him toward the light.
He jerks awake, hand automatically tightening in the loose one he holds.
"Anna!" He breathes, turning to face his fallen commander. He brings up his other hand to clutch both of theirs, "You're awake."
She stares at him, still groggy "If you can call it that," she mumbles irritably.
Her head is heavily bandaged. "I was so worried," says Cas, "The doctors said it could be weeks before the swelling went down enough for you to-"
"How long has it been?" Anna cuts him off.
Cas opens his mouth and closes it again. It had been almost a week, but the doctors had warned him that news would come as a bit of shock. Best not to rush into it.
Anna changes her question.
"What happened? What happened with the boys and.. and that freak?"
Castiel sighs. Talk about a shock.
"They got away. The boys," he starts with.
"And the assailants?" Anna presses, impatient.
Cas hesitates. Now would come the real shock. The shock that still shook him to the core to remember all these days later. Cas imagines he can still feel the phantom spray of blood on his face where Dean had slashed open Pete Sheridan's throat. Can still hear the whizz of the knife flying through the air, only to be caught by a demon in a child's tiny body.
"The boys were the assailants, Anna. I can't explain it. They killed them."
Anna frowns in confusion.
"I thought you said they got away?"
Cas stares up at the ceiling.
"The boys took out the men, Anna. After you went down... I don't know what happened. They just..." He trails off. He can't make himself say it. Not again.
By the time he looks back down, Anna is lost in thought. Her expression a familiar mix of horror and confusion.
"But," she whispers, "They're children."
"I know."
Cas isn't sure he'll ever recover from what he saw that night. Doesn't think there'll ever come a day when he doesn't think of it. Doesn't shudder to remember it.
But even worse than that is the sting of betrayal. Of knowing Dean Winchester, the innocent boy from the fire, the boy with the brilliant green eyes, is a monster in disguise. And he had played Cas for every cent he was worth. Leading him on with his tears and his lies. They both had.
In spite of all that though, Cas can't help wondering if it all really was a lie. How much truth was hidden in those conversations, those looks? Those bruises had to come from somewhere. Cas thinks about what Dean said about the drugs, and how it all lined up with what Cas already suspected. He thinks about the "tattoo," thinks about the way Dean had called him his "Angel." Once in the interrogation room and then again right before he'd fled.
That part, Cas, realizes with a start, could not have been a lie. Dean'd had no reason to lie to him then, no reason at all to call him "Angel" unless that name really meant something to him.
"I'll always remember you. You're my Angel."
Despite everything, despite the all deception and the twisted smiles and the blood, Dean Winchester cares about Castiel Novak on some level. Really believes Castiel is his Angel.
He really, really does.
And Castiel will always remember that.
No matter what the future brings.