Part VII
O Brother

"You what!?"

Castiel cringed at the volume of Charlie's voice. Her amber-brown eyes were impossibly wide and she seemed ignorant to the way she had drawn attention of the room. They were on scene at the suspect's (a man named Greg Carlson) house but found no sign of the little girl. The man in question was also missing, but all his belongings were at the house along with his vehicle. Sam had burned the midnight oil (seriously, the man was a machine at times) going over the evidence at hand and had found probably cause. It resulted in an early morning wake-up for Balthazar to go get them a search warrant. Castiel didn't know the specifics, it really wasn't his business, he was just there to take samples where the warrant allowed it.

Charlie was there to help seize any electronic devices, mainly to check for hidden child pornography. She stood stooped over the computer, purple latex glove on as she tapped at the keyboard. Only her hands were hovering above the keys as she continued to blink owlishly at him.

Castiel audibly cleared his throat and glanced at the other two techies present. Charlie quickly caught on to the awkwardness of the situation and whisked toward Castiel to hiss under her breath, "Tell me I misheard you. You what?"

Seizing his friend by the crook of elbow, Castiel hastily lead her out of the room and out the front door to get away from the majority of the present police force. He stood close to her, whispering while his hands spread in a gesture of innocence. "It's not like I planned it from the start. It was more of spur of the moment thing."

"You randomly decided to grope the new detective?"

"Shh-shh!" Castiel bit down on the corner of his lip as he glanced around them in distress. "I didn't grope him. I mean, it was like.. I didn't feel anything? It was just his thigh and.. I don't know Charlie. Does this all sound weird? It's just that.. ugh.. do you think he's just being overly friendly?"

Charlie's brows peaked together in sympathy, "Ellen did make a fuss about wanting your placed watched and he volunteered, but he was just suppose to check in with you, not bring you food or stay over watching movies."

"He also.. got me a kitten."

Once again Charlie's eyes bugged, but this time she left off the verbal outburst. She glanced off toward the house, "That's.. that's actually kind of weird. Dating couples are more likely to adopt a pet, it's like a psychological preparation of having a child together."

Castiel only felt a touch queasy, "I don't know if that is suppose to make me feel better or alarm me."

"Uh," Charlie gave a nervous smile, "Well it's good - I think? I mean, it really sounds like he's trying to win you over."

"But I don't like pets."

"Yeah, that was total bust on his part."

Heaving an exhale, Castiel peeled off his gloves to thread nervous hands through his dark hair. It had been bugging him all morning, or more precisely, once he had downed his first dose of coffee his mind started to positively buzz. He could barely keep focused on work and it only got worse when Dean was in the same room. Castiel would stare intently at whatever sample he was pretending to take ages to gather and he would be too scared to look up even though it felt like Dean was staring right at him.

The tension had been thick enough to cut.

"You really think he.."

Charlie rolled her eyes, "You do this every time Cas. Whenever I tell you a guy is hitting on you, you do this whole thing were you try and logic out excuses to why a guy doesn't like you. I get that you had a bad break-up, but come on, it's time to move on."

He wrung his hands, "I don't know, I just keep feeling like there's something off about it all."

"Probably because you guys work in the same unit? You know what they say about office romance."

Castiel thought it over, then quietly shook his head at Charlie.

"Don't ask me, if I could get Jo to go out for drinks with me, I'd say screw what they say about relationships in the workplace."

"It didn't pan out well for Sam..."

Charlie cut him with a harsh look, "Way to be a total buzz kill."

Castiel tucked his gloves into his belt before planting his hands on his waist. The whole situation exasperated him, and to top it all off he felt like a selfish prick because he was more concerned about his latest interaction with Dean rather than concentrating on the missing girl. "What do you think I should do?"

"Totally hit that?"

Castiel swallowed.

His friend shrugged at him, "Does it really have to be more complicate than that?"

"I - well - I can't just - that's -"

"Well," The redhead cocked her hip to one side, "How long have you been single now?"

He grimaced, "About a year?"

"And what's holding you back?"

Castiel felt his shoulders slump, "I'm not exactly eager to jump into another relationship. I was with Nick for over ten years."

"And as I understand it, the bastard totally bailed on you. So stop making excuses like you need to keep yourself available like one day he's going to jump back into your life."

He pinched the bridge of his nose as a familiar headache began to throb behind his eyes. He didn't like to talk about it, because despite it being months - a god damn year - since Lucifer left, the wound it left was still raw. It hadn't been the perfect relationship, but had been the only one Castiel had ever known. He had never needed to know how to move on, never had learned how to deal with having his heart broken. Hell, he didn't even know how other people went about the thing known as dating. "Fine, but what should I say?"

"You do know who are asking advice from, right?" Charlie's smile was a touch sad. "How about you start off with hi."

Castiel leveled Charlie with a look - which had absolutely no effect on her. Instead she smiled, raised her hand and waved to someone just behind Castiel, "Hey Dean."

"Charlie," came the detective's casual reply.

The blood drained from Castiel's features. Very slowly he turned to take in the sight of Dean standing next to one of the patrol cars and was looking in their direction. There was no way Castiel could know how long the man had been standing there, or how much he had overhead of the conversation.

"We were just talking about you," Charlie chimed.

Castiel's stomach plummeted and he glared at his traitorous friend.

"Were you now?" Dean teased and Castiel felt himself heat up as those vivid green eyes swung onto him.

"Mhm, and it just so happens that Castiel has something he wants to ask you."

With that, Charlie took her leave, but not first without shooting a smile and wink at Castiel's vehement glare. Dean walked over, assuming Charlie's vacated space. He brushed his jacket away from his waist to mirror the way Castiel stood with hands on either side of his hips. "What's up?"

Say something witty! - Wait, don't, it never came out as funny as it sounded in his head.

Play it cool.

And totally don't think about that morning, especially with wandering thoughts of how things might have played out different if not for the phone call from Sam. Castiel swallowed. Too late for those wayward images. He turned his blue gaze aside, trying to relax in posture, but only feeling his shoulders square and his brow frown pensively. "Do you.. "

Several more starters staggered from Castiel's lips before he gave up. It was clear to him, and it always had been, that flirting with someone to earn their favor was not his cup of tea. The only man in his life had been Lucifer, and Lucifer had come after him, not the other way around. It was easier to be single before Castiel grew up and knew all about sex. Now he had cravings and no outlet. And flirting to him came as easily as flying did to a lemming flinging itself off a cliff.

"Did you find anything about the girl?"

Despite Castiel feeling that he had once again set himself up to crash and burn, he knew that work was a safe topic. It was factual and didn't depend on whether or not Dean found him attractive. It may have just been his imagination trying to inspire hope, but Castiel could have sworn that Dean looked disappointed by the question.

"Not yet," Dean scanned the scene. "We put out an A.P.B on Greg Carlson, Sam already left to check his place of work, and I sent a couple officers to canvas the neighborhood."

Castiel took the information in with a faint tilt of head, then he was turning to head back toward the house while slipping hands back into latex gloves.

"Cas."

Halting a couple paces away, Castiel abruptly pivoted to look back at the befuddled detective.

"Is that what you wanted to ask me?"

"Oh.."

The man's lips twitched in a fleeting smile, "Back to the ohs, huh?"

Castiel cleared his throat, "I.. " His gaze couldn't seem to rise past the button on Dean's jacket. Charlie had never specified what she wanted him to ask Dean. Castiel blundered over what he could possibly phrase into a question that wouldn't leave him swimming in a sea of awkward. "I need a ride back to my apartment."

"You're asking for a lift?"

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble," Castiel's voice seemed to grumble over the barely audible words. In the back of his mind he was already setting himself up for disappointment, assuring himself that he could catch a ride to the precinct with one of the other technicians. After that he could call Charlie for a ride home.

"Sure thing, Cas, you going to be done soon?"

Recalling his work, Castiel turned back around to head toward the back of the house. "Give me thirty minutes."

Thirty minutes turned into three hours.

As the sun peaked high over head, Castiel continued to poor over the task at hand - cataloguing trash. It started with the simple desire of wanting to verify if the missing girl, Kaila, had been at the house at all. The clue could have been a single piece of trash, perhaps something that normally wouldn't be found in a bachelor's trash. Food bought for a little girl - maybe a toy. Even a receipt could provide a piece of insight to better help the detectives.

The officers on duty snorted at the sight of Castiel digging and sorting the man's trash, but Castiel didn't let their condescending looks discourage him. The only reason he continued to carefully pick through the garbage was because of the nagging feeling that he was missing something that was hidden right in front of him.

A warm hand set on his shoulder, jarring Castiel from his inner musings. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his wrist as he stood from his crouch. Next to him stood an uncertain Dean. The detective rubbed at the back of his neck, "You planning to make a full day out of this?"

Castiel frowned, pivoting just enough to survey his work - half of it neatly packed into evidence bags.

"I mean.. " Dean glanced over the mess. "If you want to stay here and do this, that's fine, but I need to get going. So if you wanted that ride.."

Castiel almost told Dean to leave without him. Then a mental voice (that sounded oddly like Charlie) scolded him for being a wimp. After motioning for Dean to wait just a moment, Castiel handed off the last of the evidence bags to a fellow worker before returning. He kept his silence, merely nodding his head to the detective and following him to the Impala.

The silence between them only became that much more stifling when the doors closed. The drive back to his apartment was serenaded with the best hits of the 80s quietly filling in the background. Once or twice Castiel stole a quick side-long glance at Dean. The detective either was concentrating on the traffic, or was off in his own land of brooding. Castiel couldn't tell.

He should probably say something about that morning - right?

Castiel fully turned his head toward Dean, lips parting to speak. The air was drawn into his lungs, but as Dean's sea-green eyes swung to meet his own, Castiel lost his nerve and resolved to stare out the window. On second thought, it was probably better to pretend it never happened.

The Impala pulled into a parking spot nearest to Castiel's apartment building. Feeling all sorts of pathetic, Castiel didn't even bother with a parting word before pushing open the door and escaping onto the sidewalk. The door closed behind him, an echo of his inner defeat – and then a second door closed and Castiel dared a glance over his shoulder to see Dean approaching.

The confusion must have shown on Castiel's features, because the detective met his gaze just long enough to explain, "Forgot my wallet this morning."

Ah, Castiel's mouthed the sound and lead the way upstairs. As he loosed his keys from his pocket, Castiel became keenly aware of how close Dean had crept. Suddenly Castiel couldn't find the right key and his eyes continued to try and stray back to Dean's face. Then there was a hand pressing into the jamb and Castiel forgot all about unlocking the door. The front of Dean's chest brushed against the back of his shoulders.

"I was hoping..."

Dean's voice came out low and Castiel did his best to redirect his thoughts on the keys dangling from his fingers.

"You might ask me for more than just a ride home."

Castiel stared at the hand planted almost directly in front of him. The implication purring deeply within Dean's tone sent Castiel's mind reeling despite his efforts to scramble for control. He had to ask, to verify, even it took him several moments to find his tongue, "Like?"

"Like, " Lips brushed the shell of his ear and Castiel's mind went blank. "Whether or not I'd like to continue with what you started this morning."

The detective was just screwing with him - had to be. There had to be a hidden joke like oh, he meant the coffee. The keys slipped from Castiel's fingers. Reflexively he tried to catch them, which resulted in him neatly smacking his head off his front door. "Fuck."

"Well I was thinking of starting off light, but if you want to get right down to it," Dean teased right on cue.

The jest fell on deaf ears, because Castiel was frozen where he was stopped over the threshold. His blue eyes were fixated on the gap between his front door and the jamb. His door was open. Open. It should have been locked - he always locked it. Yet here he was again, his damn door left ajar. Castiel recoiled from the door, pressing himself flat against the brace of Dean's legs.

"Whoa Cas, a bit eager there - mind waiting until we get inside first?"

Castiel would have scrambled down the hallway if not for Dean's hand catching his collar. It only took a glance between Castiel's panic stricken features and the open door for the detective to clue in to the situation. His side arm was soon in hand and with a gruff stay back shot at Castiel, he pushed into the apartment with his pistol muzzle leading the way.

Loathed to lose the safety he felt in Dean's calm, controlled presence, Castiel nervously crept after the man. His gaze frantically scanned the interior, expecting to find everything in disarray. Instead the room before him was just as he left it that morning, including the books left stacked by the wall. A hope fluttered in Castiel's chest - maybe whoever had broken into his place had already come and gone.

Dean made the turn into the kitchen, freezing on the spot and Castiel caught the way his gun tilted upward - toward the ceiling to avoid pointing at what? Castiel edged around to peer into the kitchen, his eyes widening at the sight.

"The hell you doing here?" Dean demanded, the words sounding off considering the situation.

The man, dressed in a black three piece suit with a matching trench. His hair was neatly kept back with gel, making the dark inky strands glisten under the kitchen lights. He arched a brow at Dean and continued to poke at what was left of Castiel's leftover Chinese. The man's pale blue eyes flick dismissively over Dean before shifting to Castiel. "I fed your cat."

Castiel thoughts stumbled over one another and he didn't know how he should feel at the present moment. "Thank you."

"You know this guy?" Dean asked while holstering his pistol.

Clearing his throat, Castiel made a vague gesture toward the sharply dressed man. "This is my brother, Michael."

"Your brother. Your brother."

Castiel directed a questioning look on the detective, but Dean's narrowed look remained settled on Michael. The two were having a stare off and Castiel couldn't help but feel that he was missing a key component. Much like how he had been earlier, staring at the trash as if it held a hidden clue. He cleared his throat again, but it did nothing to remove the gravel from his tone. "Michael, this is—"

"Dean Winchester," Michael supplied before Castiel could finish. Not once did his brother spare a glance to him, just kept on staring back at the detective. "You've been through - how many districts is it now - three, or is this your fourth precinct? That history of yours just keeps getting swept under the rug, doesn't it."

Dean's expression was beginning to turn murderous. Castiel sighed heavily before trying to forge a peace, "Did I mention my brother is a Fed?"

"Oh, don't worry, I could smell this government piece of shit the moment we walked in the door." Dean sneered.

"Dean here," Michael calmly spoke as if Dean hadn't said a thing. "Has a history of getting too personal with vics."

"You shut your mouth you son of a bitch."

"Seems to get off on people relying on him to protect them," Michael continued after a pause to take another bite of food. "When internal affairs starts poking into his business, Dean puts in for a transfer."

At some point during the conversation - if it could be called that - Castiel had slumped onto one of the stools next to the breakfast bar. Somehow he had known anything that he was seeing between him and Dean was too good to be true. Still, it really pissed him off that after years of his brother not talking to him, he shows up out of the blue to start this shit. Castiel would swear his brother had some kind of sixth sense. He had never approved of Lucifer - never accepted that Castiel was attracted to men instead of women. For a long time his brother had tried to drill it into Castiel's head that it was all a phase.

Castiel's gaze wandered over to Dean, feeling his heart sink. He wanted to ask if what Michael was saying held truth (considering Michael's resources being part of the FBI, it was hard to dispute it). Did Dean really just use his badge to take advantage of the people he was trying to help?

Somehow it seemed to fit with the detective's arrogance.

Fit more as Dean did little but glare to refute Michael's words.

When Dean finally met Castiel's lingering gaze, the detective only met the look a moment before dipping his chin in toward his chest. A sure sign of guilt. Fan-fucking-tastic. Castiel began shaking his head at the man in sheer disbelief. Little could have made Castiel feel more foolish, except Michael's patronizing presence.

Castiel checked his pocket for his phone and went to his bedroom, leaving the two assholes in his kitchen.

It wasn't long after that Castiel heard the front door open and close - Dean left.

Michael tried to talk to him, lightly knocking on his door. When Castiel gave no response, his brother sighed then murmured, "I'm going to be in town for a time. We'll talk later."

Castiel was once again alone. Almost. It wasn't long before Castiel heard clawing at the underside of his door. He rolled onto his side to view the play of shadow on the other side of his door. Lucifer. Castiel's eyes narrowed with thought. Michael.. his brother was always at odds with Lucifer. It had been that way ever since High School. The two were the same age. One had grown up to become an F.B.I agent, the other had become what the government labeled as a terrorist.

Needlessly to say, the two didn't get along, and then there was Castiel right smack in the middle of the two.

But.. if Michael was there in town...

Castiel rolled onto his back and drew his phone up to his face, quickly bringing up Lucifer's number. He stared at it for a long time until he mentally shrugged. Why the hell not? It's not like he had anything else going for him. Castiel pressed send, his nerves bouncing all over the place as he put the phone to his ear. Each unanswered ring help to sink Castiel's mood further into despair.

Then, at the very end, the line picked up.

"Helloo~?"

But it wasn't Lucifer's voice.

".. uh, hello?"

"Cassie, it been ages, sorry to say but Lucy isn't home."

Sighing, Castiel dragged a hand down his tiring features. "Gabriel."

"Bingo. So touching you haven't forgotten me after all this time. You know just because Lucy is a bag a dicks and fled the states doesn't mean the rest of us dropped off the face of the planet."

Castiel contemplated how difficult it would be to smother himself with his pillow. He hadn't forgotten about Gabriel. Alright, maybe he had, because being around Lucifer's younger brother just reminded him of his loss.

"I take it by the silence coming from your end you feel like a jerk. Good. Now, did you want me to get a message to Lucy?"

"Ah, no.. "

".. Right, you just called his phone to not talk to him."

"Why do you have his phone?"

"Because Lucy thinks I'm his personal secretary, which entails me keeping his phones charged. Now what do you want me to write down? How about... miss you, let's fuck."

Castiel scowled unseen, his expression smoothing soon afterward. "Do you mean he's.. back?"

"In jail, actually."

"What!?"

"How sweet, you do still care. Don't fret Cassie, it's just a DUI, and you know how it goes. They're going to try to keep him in there as long as they can trying to pin him for everything under the sun. He'll be out soon enough."

Castiel drew a pillow up to his chest, afraid to ask the next question. "How long has he been back?"

"Uhm.. listen Cass, maybe you want to go out for drinks sometime and we'll talk about it."

"I don't think that's a good idea.. Michael's in town."

"Right, well, don't be a stranger."

"Do me a favor... don't tell him I called."

Things to Know:
1.) Because I forgot to say it last chapter, Nick was the name of Lucifer's vessel in the show.
2.) Michael is a total cock-block.
3.) Castiel was fifteen when he hooked up with Lucifer.
4.) Gabriel is Lucifer's younger brother in this fic, the same age as Castiel in fact.
5.) You guys rock!