A/N: Disclaimer. All rights belong to Eric Kripke and the CW network.

An angel and the weathered hunter followed the young officer further into the Mesquite police station. He turned around and said, "I'm Deputy Rory Keith, by the way."

Dean dipped his head in acknowledgement. Cas just kept marching like the soldier that he was created to be. Deputy Keith left the duo in the empty office of an inspector on the force that had clearly not been to work in a few days. Or, at least, not in his office. They were assured that the inspector would not be back for a few days: he had taken his family to the Mediterranean for two weeks.

Deputy Keith left the two impersonators in the office, closing the door behind him. Dean started flipping through the O'Riley case, comparing it to the other files being searched by Cas. After comparing notes for a few moments, Dean decided to take their notes back to Sam and compare them in front of his brother. Dean just didn't feel like explaining everything over to Sam. It would be easier of they got all the same information all in one go.

As they pulled into the motel parking lot, Dean began getting a headache. It seemed to get worse as they walked into the room. By the time he had gotten to his bed his ears were ringing and it felt as though someone was giving him a lobotomy with an icepick. Dean stumbled over to his bag and grabbed the pain killer's that they always had on hand. He promptly, poured a couple into his hand them into his mouth and took a long swing of the beer that he had been handed by his brother when he walked in. As he sat down, closed his eyes and waited for the pills to take effect he felt two sets of eyes on him. He looked up and saw the worried expression of his little brother and the unreadable expression of the angel who was like a brother.

"I'm fine," he said as he waved off his brother's tense face. "Just a headache."

Sam's face morphed to a light bitch face. Sam knew his brother was lying to him, but he couldn't force the truth out of Dean. He really hated it when his older brother did that. So he settled.

"Right. You're fine and I'm a Belieber." Sam said sarcastically

"A what?" Dean asked

"A Belieb- never mind. Nobody. " He shook his head at Dean's lack of knowledge of pop culture. At least it was nowhere near Castiel's level. Well, it was Justin Beiber. Actually, maybe he was better off not knowing.

Cas was still staring at Dean.

"Cas! What did I tell you about staring at me?" Dean demanded

"That it made you feel uncomfortable." Cas frowned and tilted his head slightly to the side.

"So why are you still doing it?" Dean growled

"Because it seems... as if you are changing." the perplexed angel replied.

"Changing?" Dean's tone changed from one of annoyance to confusion. "How?"

"I do not know. It almost looks like your soul is changing. But that isn't possible," Cas answered

"Geez, Cas. Thanks. That's not unsettling at all." came the murmured reply.

Change isn't always a bad thing, young one.

Dean jumped at the sound of Cain's voice in his head. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head.

"Dammit Cain." he muttered.

"Cain? Where?" Cas's attention briefly left Dean as he glanced around the room.

"No Cas not here. Here." Dean said as he pointed to his head.

Puzzled, Cas tilted his head slightly once more. He was starting to look like the curious puppy.

He said my soul looks like it's changing. How is that a good thing?

He said it looks like your soul is changing. He isn't always right you know. But you are changing.

Dean sighed. Then another more disturbing thought occurred to him.

How long have you been eavesdropping on us?

Not that long. That was a lie. Dean could tell.

I can tell you're lying.

Cain was silent.

Dean shook his head and sighed. Sam and Castiel were both looking at him. "He's been eavesdropping on us."

Sam's eyes widened. "How long?"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. He just kinda went radio silent when I asked him."

"Try demanding it from him. And ask him what that headache was? Do you still have it?" Castiel pressed

Dean nodded, wincing from the pain that was coming from his head. "Yeah it's still there. I don't get it. I took painkillers. They should be working, but instead it's just getting worse."

Cain?

Dean, I have only been paying attention to ensure that you don't need assistance

I have an angel on my side. What else do I need right now?

You seem to forget that your angel's wings have been clipped.

Well Crowley's still on my team… at least for now.

Crowley? That pathetic excuse for a demon? Haha. He will only help you to the point that it will help himself. When he feels that he is in danger, that pathetic bastard will hang you out to dry faster than you can blink. He won't help you.

That's true, but he still wants Abaddon dead as much as anyone else here.

Why else would you be on the same side as him if not to kill that hag?

Well don't worry. When I'm finished with her, he's going to be my next target. I'm so done with his bullshit.

Good.

Now, what about my headaches? Do you know why I'm getting them and why nothing I take is helping me get rid of them?

Hmmmm. I have a theory. But I would have to look into it further. Perhaps we should meet in person and we will be able to come up with a valid conclusion.

Well, we're in Mesquite, Nevada right now, working on a witch case. When we're done we can meet in Kansas and we will be able to discuss this further.

Any specific part of Kansas? Perhaps your bunker or your hometown? Whichever you are more comfortable with.

Dean felt slightly uncomfortable that Cain knew about the bunker as well as Lawrence. It was creepy to know that he was in his head, yet real at the same time. Geez, this was not helping his headache at all.

Smith Center, that's where we'll meet. There's a small diner there, Pete's Place, we'll meet there. I don't trust you yet. Sam and Cas doesn't even know you.

Ok. I will be there, sundown tomorrow.

We will be there too. If we can get this witchy business sorted out by then. And until then stay out of my head!

Dean ignored the amusement he felt through the "connection" with Cain, and returned his attention to what was in front of him. What he seen, was not something that he expected.

Sam and Cas watched as Dean's eyes glazed over. Sam walked over to his brother and waved his hand, in front of his brother's eyes; Dean blinked but did not react. Sam walked back to his chair and slouched. His brother was always alert but didn't react. His brother somehow knew when they were threatened or not. He was growing more and more worried about Dean. First, the idiot decides to side with Crowley, and take on the bloody Mark of Cain, and then there was the whole "Cain's-in-my-head thing but it's cool" and now the soul-changing part. Great. Nothing was simple with them though, was it? Like, ever. They never seemed to catch a break and just when they think they did, they would get caught with their pants down and got royally screwed. But hey, at least they made it this far, right? Right, and all it took was a couple of demon deals, a few trips to hell, heaven, and purgatory for that matter. Oh, and there was that thing of everyone else around them dying. Okay, that last one wasn't completely their fault. They knew the consequences and they took them.

Sam settled into his chair and ran his hand through his brown locks of hair, enjoying the feel of the long hair through his fingers. He glanced back at his computer screen and frowned. He glanced at all of the victim's houses. They seemed to surround one house on that street. One registered to a Lindsay Losenger. Sam pulled up any and all files that he could find on her. He even went as far as to pull up her Facebook page. He skimmed through all the documents scattered in front of him. Something that caught his eye was the fact that she liked a page called "Hecate's Malus Magicis Sororum". Sam scoffed. Can you be more obvious? As Sam kept looking he found that she worked at the local car dealership as the main receptionist, and that she owned a small acreage just a few miles outside of town. This was something worth looking into. He looked up at Cas, who was still intently staring at Dean. He cleared his throat. Cas slowly turned and looked at him. It seemed that Cas's frown was permanently etched on his face.

"I think I found something on the witch" Sam said slowly.

Cas stood up and strolled to where the youngest Winchester was sitting. "What is it?"

"Well, actually, more than one thing. More like everything." He relayed all the information he found, to the angel, whose frown deepened. How is that even possible?

"Do you know where she is now?" The angel asked.

"Well," Sam began, "It's after 4, so she wouldn't be at work. According to the land records, there's nothing on that land except an old abandoned barn, so I guess that would leave her house," Sam finished, proud of his skills of deduction. He stood up.

"So, we stake out her house, right?" Cas asked slowly

"Yup."

Cas looked backed at Dean. Sam shook his head. "He'll be fine, Cas. I'll leave him a note saying what we're doing and where to find us."

Cas begrudgingly agreed and left with Sam.

Dean wasn't expecting to be left alone in the motel room. He had been anticipatng a lot of questions from both parties. Instead there was no one in the room. Dean looked around again. Seriously, where are those two? Dean got off the bed and checked out the table where Sam's laptop lay. It was open to some redhead chick named Lindsay Losenger. He read what Sam found on her.

"Shit. Sammy. Dammit," he muttered. Dean grabbed his jacket and ran out the door. He remembered seeing that chick staring at Cas and him at the police station. How could he not notice that 'til now? How could Cas not notice? Or if he did, why didn't he say anything? Cas could put his little brother in danger, and there was no way he was letting anything happen to him. He'd gone through hell for him, literally, and he would do it again if it meant saving the last family he had. Of course, Dean did consider Cas family, but the idea that Sammy's protection comes first had been so firmly ingrained in him by his father that it had stuck with him right through it all and probably would for the rest of their hellish lives.

Dean found the address to the witch's house and stole the first car that wasn't on the same block as the motel, so that no one would get suspicious of him. The car was a 1970 Pontiac GTO that may have been a beautiful car in its prime, but it was obvious that the car had been neglected over the years. Several rust spots decorated the exterior of the once champagne colored car. When Dean tried starting it, she turned over several times before the engine caught on. Dean shook his head. With the right care this car could have still been a classic. Too bad some asshole couldn't take care of it, but Dean wasn't about to start: he had somewhere to be. Thankfully, this car still ran and would get Dean to his destination.

When the hunter got to close enough to the street that the witch lived on he ditched the car, carefully wiping down everything that he had touched. He crept close enough to where he could clearly see his car and the two silhouettes that sat in the driver's and passenger's seats. As he stalked forward he could sense something was off. Dean looked around at his setting, making sure no one had or could see him. Not a soul (no pun intended) was in sight. As Dean got closer and closer, the feeling grew more and more. It was like there was a pit in his stomach and by the time he reached his beloved car, it was enveloping his whole chest. He glanced inside the car to make sure his brother and his angel were okay. What he seen nearly stopped his heart, or sent it racing. He couldn't tell, what he could tell, was that they were in deep trouble.

The redheaded witch laughed; it was unnaturally high and sickly sweet. She had caught herself one of hell's most wanted men and heaven's most wanted angel. Oh, it was Christmas, in her eyes at least. She had seen the two beings drive up in that old car that was still somehow running. Not that she cared about cars. As long as her car was pretty, new and it got her from point A to point B, the witch couldn't care less. The witch wasn't actually who the two hunters thought she was, no. She had killed that stupid, whiny little thing that had been her sister. God, she had been annoying. Good thing she was her twin though: Kristen Losenger quickly took her sister's place. She had killed all those people for good reasons though. That boy next door was a disgusting little pervert, who had pictures of her and was trying his best to get in her pants. The lady across the street was just as annoying with her wannabe friendly neighbor act but was actually a nag who gossiped about everyone, who became interested in 'Kristen's' 'hobbies' of witchcraft but turned into a backstabbing bitch of a witch. Finally, that cop. He was almost as bad as that boy, constantly coming by trying to flirt with her. She knew full well that he had a wife and two kids in that house across the street; there was no way that she was going to go out with him, even if he was single.

But none of that mattered now. She had a Winchester on her hands and it was only a matter of time before she had the full set. Ms. Losenger would be handsomely rewarded for all three of the men that she would soon have in her grasp. She sat back and was wondering at the rewards she would reap from her prizes when she felt the detection spell around the Winchester car go off. She leaned back again, smiling as she twirled her bright orange hair between her index fingers and thumbs as she looked at the unconscious, gagged, and bound men that lay at her feet on the cement floor of her basement. The last player had finally joined the game.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait for an update. Please read and review. Thanks