A/N: Thank you Kitsune911 for your review! And okay, maybe there's a wee bit more fluff before the angst.

Chapter 4

Having a full house at the bunker wasn't something Dean would have ever thought he'd have to deal with, and yet it wasn't an inconvenience, or made him feel claustrophobic. The place was meant to house numerous people to begin with, but it'd been just him and Sam for so long. Since Kevin, anyway. Even Cas didn't usually stick around for any great length of time, not that Dean had never wanted him to.

But after two days, it still felt good to have everyone there…it felt right. They all moved in and among each other with comfortable fluidity—Dean and Sam with their normal habits, Charlie raiding the Men of Letters archive, Cas and Ryn orbiting each other like two satellites caught in the other's gravitational pull while simultaneously pushing against it. Dean could understand their reticence, and knew they were still trying to feel things out as much as the rest of them.

Right now those two were in the observatory fiddling with the telescope and looking over the Men of Letters' star charts. They were apparently big on the whole stargazing thing. Dean wondered if he should help Cas do something sappy like name a star after Ryn. Though, knowing the ever-practical angel, Cas would probably point out the ridiculousness of such a gesture. Romantic overtures weren't really his forte.

Dean snorted. Like they were his, either.

"Sam," he called as he strode into the study room. "I think I caught us a case."

Sam looked up from his reading, quirking a brow. "Yeah?"

Dean leaned against the edge of the table. "There's a mention online of a murder a couple towns over. Victim's eyes were cut out. Janitor runs in just as the killer jumps out the window."

Sam stared at him dubiously. "That's it?"

"Well, the window was on the third story."

"Oh. Okay." Sam set a bookmark between the pages and closed the book. "I'll get changed."

Dean headed back to his room to do the same, donning his FBI threads so they could drive straight to the crime scene. And since it was close, they wouldn't need an overnight bag for the trip. He stopped by the room Charlie was staying in to let her know they'd be gone for a few hours. She was pretty absorbed in her research, and gave a mumbled "uh-huh," in response. Dean just shook his head and made his way back out to the main room where Sam was informing Cas and Ryn about the case.

Cas's brow creased. "Do you need help?"

"No, no," Dean answered quickly. "Me and Sam got this. It's a milk run. You two stay here and enjoy some down time." He started toward the stairs, only to pause and pivot, raising a finger to his mouth. "But, uh, not- you know. 'Cause Charlie's just down the hall—"

"Dean," Sam sputtered.

"Right." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "We'll be home for dinner, so, yeah. Be safe, kids."

Cas stared after him in open confusion as Dean beat a hasty retreat up the stairs to the garage.

"Real smooth, Dean," his brother muttered when they reached the Impala.

"What? You want them going at it just down the hall from our bedrooms?"

"God no! And thanks for that image." Sam gave an exaggerated shudder.

Dean was trying not to let his brain go there, either, but dammit, he just had to open that door with his big mouth. Trying to shake it off, he started the engine and exited the garage onto the gravel drive.

"We need to set some ground rules," he grumbled.

Sam was quiet for a beat. "So, you want Cas and Ryn to move into the bunker?" he asked carefully.

Dean shot his brother a startled look. "What? No. I mean…if they wanted to, we could make it work." He rolled his neck in discomfort. "Couldn't we?"

Sam's mouth tugged upward. "Yeah, I think we could."

Dean shook his head at the crazy turns their lives had taken. "We'll just have to teach Cas to hang a sock on the doorknob."

Sam made a strangled noise. "Ugh, just stop!"

Dean smirked at his brother being such a prude, but managed to push the topic aside for another time and get his head in the game for the case.

They went straight to the scene of the crime, which had been locked down since investigators had finished processing it the day before. The office manager was downstairs, and after showing him their badges, the guy led them up to where the college student had been murdered.

"Police told me no one was allowed in," he said as he fitted the key in the lock. "That didn't mean the FBI, right?"

"That's right," Sam assured him.

Nodding nervously, the manager opened the office, stepping inside just enough to hold the door open wide for them. Dean and Sam entered slowly, sweeping their gazes over the scene. The office was sparse, practically bare, save for a single desk and chair.

"And the janitor came in right after the killing?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, he heard screaming…maybe when her eyeballs were scooped out?" the manager added sardonically. "Janitor saw a man jump out the window, run down the alley."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Running? After, uh…falling three stories?"

The man shrugged his brows in response. "That's what it looked like."

Dean went over to the window and glanced down. That was quite a drop. "Security footage?"

"Yeah, sure." The office manager finally moved forward, punching in an access code to the tablet he'd been carrying. "Uh, but just one of them caught any action. Out in the alley. That's the guy who rented the office."

Dean watched incredulously as the footage captured a man in a white lab coat landing on the ground like he was friggin' Thor dropping out of the sky. Except instead of a hammer, one bloody hand was holding a pair of eyeballs by torn rectus muscles.

Dean let out a low whistle. "That's pretty slick for a three-story drop."

"Wait a second," Sam interjected. "Can you, uh, play it again?"

The office manager backed up the footage.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Keep going. Okay, freeze there." He reached around the manager's shoulder to slide his thumb and forefinger across the screen, zooming in.

Dean straightened as he spotted what must have caught Sam's attention—a tattoo on the guy's forearm. "Same ink as the Stynes," he remarked.

"How long was he renting here?" Sam asked.

"Signed a month's lease only a couple days ago," the manager replied. "Some sort of clinical trial using student volunteers. He didn't mention eyeballs."

"Hm," Dean hummed. "Well, I guess you're gonna ask about that from now on, huh?"

Sam shot him a dry look over the manager's head.

"Listen," Dean continued. "You, uh, remember anything else, give us a call." He handed the office manager one of their cards, and then he and Sam headed back outside to the car.

"So these douchebags can jump out of third story windows without a scratch," Dean commented.

"Cas said they were unnaturally strong." Sam's forehead creased with concentration. "But why would the Stynes be actually up to the eyeballs in murder? What's the connection?"

Dean shrugged as he slipped behind the wheel. "Well, when you take a few Stynes down, more pop up. I mean, how many are there?" Ryn had said their family was large and widespread. "Think it's coincidence them showing up so close to the bunker?"

Sam pursed his mouth. "Dunno. At least they can't track the Book anymore."

"Yeah. Maybe someone's throwing a hissy fit over that." Either way, the Stynes appearing practically in their backyard was a bit disconcerting. "Guess we keep an eye out for more victims without…eyes." He winced at the unintended pun.

Sam shook his head. "Should we pick up dinner on the way home? I vote pizza."

"Sounds good to me." Dean turned the key in the ignition and steered onto the street.

Sam called Charlie to ask what toppings everyone wanted, and the amount of vegetable fans outnumbering him made Dean question the whole Full House arrangement for the first time. He didn't even have Cas to back him on the meat lover's pie since the angel didn't eat anymore.

"Dude, seriously?" Sam snorted after he'd called ahead to the pizza place to make their order. "You look like they just killed off your favorite nurse on Dr. Sexy."

Same thing. "I'm surrounded by nerds and rabbit food," he lamented.

Sam rolled his eyes. "We still ordered sausage on one of the pizzas."

Dean pulled up alongside the curb and put the car in park. "It should have been extra sausage with bacon." He turned the engine off. "But you know what, I can manage."

"Uh-huh."

Dean pushed his door open. "Be right back." He slammed the door closed and cut through the alley to get to the pizza place. The wait was only six minutes since they'd called ahead, and then Dean was taking the two very hot pizza boxes back out.

He pulled up short when he spotted a van parked horizontally across the alleyway, blocking it completely. Dean debated going around, but then the driver's side opened.

"Hey, you mind?" Dean called. "I'd like to get through here."

The man who stepped out of the vehicle turned, and Dean instantly went on guard. Son-of-a-bitch, it was the guy from the security footage who'd jumped out that window. He wasn't wearing the lab coat anymore, but his sleeves were rolled up to the elbows still, and Dean could see the Styne tattoo clearly in the glow of the streetlight he was standing under.

He took a couple steps toward Dean, eyes fixated shrewdly on the hunter.

Dean raised his free hand warningly. "Alright, hold it right there."

Styne didn't stop.

"I said hold it." Dean backed up a pace and whipped out his gun.

Styne finally halted, though he cast an unperturbed look at the weapon. "You have something that belongs to my family," he drawled.

Well, shit. "Who are you?"

"Name's Eldon Styne. And who might you be?"

"Not up for games."

"Neither am I," Styne replied.

A shadow moved in Dean's peripheral vision, and he didn't have time to swing his gun around before a figure charged out from behind a dumpster and grabbed his arm. Dean tried to wrench away, his finger jerking on the trigger. The shot rang out, but the bullet only ricocheted off the asphalt.

A second figure tackled him from the other side, and Dean went down on top of the pizza boxes. The first guy stomped on his hand, and he let out a sharp cry as his fingers spasmed open. His gun was kicked away in the next instant.

Dean threw his weight backwards in an attempt to fling his assailants off, but he only managed to unbalance one. The other threw a punch that caught him across the jaw and sent him sprawling again. Hands fisted in the back of his jacket and hauled him upright, and then an arm was snaking across his throat, trapping him in a headlock. He gritted his teeth and grabbed hold, intending to flip the guy, but the cold barrel of a gun pressed into his temple, stilling his movements.

"Hey!" a familiar voice shouted, and Dean was wrenched around to face his brother running up from the street. Sam whipped out his gun and took up a defensive stance. "Let him go."

"I don't think so," Eldon sneered in Dean's ear, dragging him back a few steps. "You have something of ours. We now have something of yours." He gave Dean a sharp shake as emphasis. "Bring us the Book."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "Not gonna happen. Now let him go."

"Okay," Styne said casually. "Or we could just shoot you, and then track down that pretty little red-head and ask her to exchange the Book. I'm sure you've got her number in your phone."

Dean flicked his gaze to the side where the other two thugs had drawn their weapons and had them trained on Sam. Crap.

Sam's nostrils flared as he took in the odds as well, and Dean could see his resolve faltering.

"Sammy, don't…"

Styne jerked his arm, cutting off Dean's air and words for a split second. He growled in response.

"Bring the Book to the Blackbird Motel in one hour," Eldon said. "Unless you want to have a shoot-out right here and now. Though I assure you, we aren't that easy to kill…and you are." He pressed the barrel of his gun harder against Dean's head as evidence, making the Winchester wince.

Sam's throat bobbed, and he lowered his gun a fraction in hesitation. He shifted his gaze to Dean's, eyes wavering with reluctance and fear.

"Just go, Sam," he ground out. Get backup.

A muscle in Sam's jaw ticked as anger crept into his expression when he shot a glare at the Stynes.

"Run along now," Eldon prodded.

Sam started backing up, and then Eldon turned and dragged Dean into the back of the van. Dean braced himself for a brief opening, but the door was slammed closed, blocking his view of his retreating brother, and Eldon hadn't even loosened his headlock before another goon threw a plastic bag over Dean's head and yanked it closed under his chin. His eyes flew wide as he bucked, trying to break free. Eldon held fast, and the bag fogged up with Dean's panicked gasps for air. His vision blurred for several agonizing moments before his lungs seized and everything went dark.

Castiel watched Ryn trail her fingers along the spines on one of the Men of Letters' bookshelves, pausing to pull out a hardbound volume.

"Wow, an authentic Northumberland Bestiary," she marveled, cracking the aged yellow, almost sealed pages and revealing an illuminated manuscript within. She ran her hand down the artfully crafted text and vibrant painting of lions. "You know, I was living in the monastery responsible for copying these at the time."

Castiel cocked his head. "In medieval England, correct?"

She nodded, turning a page. Her lips quirked. "I'm in here."

Castiel moved closer to take a look. Sure enough, there was a page devoted to the phoenix, a rendering of a firebird nested on top of a funeral pyre with tongues of flames rising up around it. He furrowed his brow as he read the scrawling script below the image that said the phoenix rose from the ashes as first a worm before it became a bird again. "That's not accurate."

Ryn smirked. "Neither is the part about the fall of the angels."

He sighed. Human historians rarely did get things right.

"Did you work as a healer there?" he asked. That was something Ryn had been doing when he'd known her in Egypt.

"Sometimes," she replied. "Mostly I worked in the library helping the monks translate Greek texts."

Castiel felt his mouth tug upward at the image that filled his mind at that. "You're a Woman of Letters, then."

She canted an odd look at him that suddenly made him feel self-conscious. Had he said something wrong? Her gaze shifted to take in the Men of Letters' library, the space between her brows puckering slightly as she seemed to be in deep consideration.

"I suppose I could take up something like that again," she said carefully.

It took Castiel a moment to catch on to what she really meant—staying here in the bunker. With him.

And that made something inside him blossom with warmth. He'd enjoyed the past couple of days here with her and Sam and Dean, and even Charlie. It had been years—centuries—since Castiel had last had the opportunity to relax, to not be in the middle of a war or on the run. He felt…at peace. Something he'd thought would forever remain out of his reach because of his sins and failings. To finally find it…Castiel didn't know whether to be humbly grateful, or afraid that it would all be yanked away.

Before he could ask Ryn what she was thinking, just to be sure, Charlie came bounding into the room with her laptop open.

"Are the guys back yet?" she asked.

Castiel gave himself a small shake as he reoriented his focus. "Not yet."

Charlie's face fell. "Oh, erm, well, I can tell them later." Her eyes lit up with excitement again as she set the computer on the study table. "So I've been researching the Book of the Damned, and I found an entry in the archives about the nun who wrote the Book, and it said that the visions she'd been experiencing was actually an assault by some great 'Darkness,' and in order to defeat it, she bound it up in the Book."

Castiel stared at her, trying to follow that rapid recounting.

"So," Ryn spoke up, "destroying the Book would unleash it again."

Charlie sighed. "Probably. But I can't find anything about what the Darkness actually is or means."

The outer door swung open with a grating screech then, followed by harried footsteps trampling down the stairs.

"Cas!" Sam shouted, voice an octave higher than normal that immediately set Castiel on alert.

He swept from the study into the map room, taking in Sam's harrowed expression and the conspicuous absence of Dean. "What's wrong? Where's Dean?" Castiel demanded.

"The Stynes have him," Sam let out in a rush.

Castiel's heart lurched. "What? How?"

"They ambushed him outside the pizza place. They want the Book, and if I don't bring it to them, they'll kill Dean."

"You can't just hand it over to them," Ryn interjected.

"I know that," Sam snapped, then paused to suck in a sharp breath. "I know we can't hand it over, but I'm not just gonna leave my brother in their hands."

"Where are you supposed to bring the Book?" Castiel asked.

"The Blackbird Motel. In forty-five minutes."

"Then I'll go with you and we'll get Dean back," Castiel staunchly assured him. He'd faced these Stynes once before, and now knew what to expect.

"Shouldn't we all go?" Charlie spoke up.

Sam shook his head. "I need you to find a way to destroy that Book."

"Um, okay," she squeaked. "But what if that causes something bad to happen?"

"Find a way around it," Sam pressed. "The only way the Stynes are going to stop coming is if the Book is gone." He turned to Ryn. "Can you help Charlie? You've used your power to break curses before…"

Ryn's mouth pressed into a thin line, and she looked uncertain for a split moment. "Alright." She skewered Castiel with her gaze next. "Be careful."

He nodded, jaw tightening. "Do I need to remind you of the same?" The last time she had removed a curse, she'd almost died. Or, technically she had died. And Castiel did not want that happening again.

"No," Ryn said, "but I appreciate it."

"Let's go," Sam urged impatiently, and Castiel pivoted to follow him up the stairs. He dreaded the condition they might find Dean in, but he vowed to bring the Winchester home safe. Now that he'd finally found a place with his true family, Castiel was going to fight with every last ounce of divine retribution to protect it.

A/N: And we've worked our way back around to the Darkness after all, haha. But just to be clear, the "Darkness" is not Amara or God's sister in this verse.