Man, you guys respond to added chapters fast. It jumped up over 100 views in a little less than 24 hours of being posted. Now it's up by over 200 views. You guys are great. :) I've gotten some messages on Tumblr instead of reviews about this fic, and that's okay, and it makes me happy that you guys are liking it so much. Although the reviews make me even happier. ;) And again I apologize for any spelling mistakes I may have missed. But I just want to say one thing before you read; don't hate me after Cas' POV. Lol. You'll see why.
Okay I'm done. Enjoy the chapter!
"Do you want to know why I use a knife? Guns are too quick. You can't savor all the… little emotions. In… you see, in their last moments, people show you who they really are. So in a way, I know your friends better than you ever did." - The Dark Knight
SUPERNATURAL
Castiel left just before six that morning, going over all the information his brain had sucked in and was trying to figure out what to do next. Even though he read numerous articles Bout this guy, he still went over the basic information more that what was probably necessary:
Name: Dean Winchester.
Age: 30.
Height: Six feet one inch.
Gender: Male, obviously.
Parents: Mary and John Winchester.
Siblings: Sam Winchester.
Occupation: Criminal, six years running, wanted for several charges, and guaranteed life in prison, if not a death penalty, if captured.
Sexuality: Bi.
Religion: Unknown.
He went over this same information over and over. He even did research on his brother, Sam. He was four years younger than Dean, and was a few inches taller. He was ready to go to Stanford to be a lawyer six years ago, right before Dean went rogue, and almost no one has heard from him since. It's almost like he just vanished. He never went to Stanford. Some people think that Sam's disappearance is the reason for Dean going dark side. But that didn't matter. He was still on major charges, just like himself, and was always on the run so he always had to keep moving.
But from all the research he did, he came to know that his little brother was basically his only weak spot, if he could even call it that. More like. . . A touchy subject. He had watched a video of when he almost got arrested a couple years ago, down in Florida. The Sheriff down in Miami was trying to distract him, get him worked up so his men could get him easier since he'd be less concerned about his actions and not pay attention as much. Well, Dean didn't just get worked up; he got pissed. He killed seven officers that day. And the sheriff, that poor man. Even Castiel felt a little bad for him. The sheriff's wife had found him a few days later, his body torn and cut to pieces, in their outdoor trash can.
He was headed to Caynyon City, Colorado, where a sixteen year old girl had won a five million dollar check just several days ago. But he also read that she was spoiled and she wanted it so bad, her dad supposedly hijacked the drawing so his daughter would win. If there was one thing that Castiel hated more than crying hostages, it was spoiled teenagers who think they deserve everything, and desperately want what they might not be able to have, and who would do anything to get it. So, her house was his next target.
Castiel looked out his window just as he passed the city limits. He looked at the time, which read seven forty two, then turned his attention back to the road and smiled. Sometimes, but not very often, he saw why people were disgusted and horrified by him, but much more often, at times such as now, he only saw the good things. He started to laugh, and soon he was laughing so much it was getting difficult to breathe. He reached over and turned on his radio as he reached a stop light. This was going to be good.
He looked at his hand where he had written down the girls address and made his way through the streets. He parallel parked his car on the opposite end of the street and waited for any evidence that they were home, since all the lights of the house were off. He waited around fifteen minutes before a convertible pulled into heir driveway, and they all piled out. He watched closely as they made their way to the porch, smiles on their faces and take out containers in their hands. But Castiel paid more attention to the girl than her parents or little brother.
"Daddy, did you order my new stereo yet?" She said. Castiel almost groaned in annoyance at her rude, needy tone.
"Ah, no, not yet sweetheart. I will as soon as I-" He was cut off by his daughter stamping her foot down on the porch.
"Ugh! But daddy, you promised! It's been a week since I asked! Why don't I have my stereo?" She whined.
"Okay, okay. I'll do it as soon as we get inside, alright?"
"Fine." She mumbled, but then she raised her voice. "But it better be here by Saturday or I'm going to call Derek!"
"It will, I promise." Her father unlocked the door and she pushed past him and stormed inside. Castiel heard him mumble something but couldn't make it out, then he motioned for his wife and son to come inside. When he closed the door behind them, he locked it and went to the table where he saw a laptop. He watched as he sat down and open it with a frown, pulling his credit card out of his wallet. He looked away from the house and out at the empty road in front of him, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He knew he needed to wait a few hours, and it was going to suck.
SPN
It was almost one thirty in the morning before everyone but her father had gone to bed, who was watching infomercials and drinking a beer. Castiel had taken the hours he spent having to wait to come up with a good plan. He took a breath and got out of his car, watching to make sure the guy hadn't heard him close the car door. He collected some things from the back to use; a couple knives, a gun, a coil of rope, a gag, and a pair of wire cutters. He put everything but the wire cutters away in a small backpack and took it into hand, then quietly made his way across the road.
He located the fuse box and quickly went over to it. He pried it open as quietly and carefully as he could and partially pulled out the clump of wires that lay inside. He clamped down on them and looked up as the power to the house shut off. The corners of his lips quirked up and he dashed behind the nearest tree, waiting for the man to come outside. He heard the crunch of dead leaves under his feet and smiled to himself. He slowly turned his head to look behind the tree, where the man was now opening the fuse box. "What the hell?" He said when he saw the cut lines.
Castiel rushed out from behind the tree and ran over to him, covering his mouth with one hand and driving the knife into his back with the other.
The man let out a few whimpers as he fell to the ground, Castiel not taking his hand off his mouth until he was certain he was dead. He stood up and looked down at him, and he felt nothing. When he first started, he felt a little for the victims, but the more he did it the less he felt. To be completely honest, Castiel wasn't even sure why he still did it. But it was all he knew these days, so he stuck with it. His headshot was pinned up in so many places by now, he knew there was no going back. No trying to live a normal life. He was stuck. And frankly, he was okay with it.
He stepped into the unlocked door and shut it behind him, surveying his surroundings. Living area to his left, dining area in front, hallway to his right. He took to the hallway, which led to another hallway. He walked slowly, with caution, as he was used to. He stopped in front of one of the doors that had a sign on it that said, "Gabe's room! Tiffany is not allowed!" Which had little drawings of dinosaurs and spaceships on it. It brought a little smile to his face. It reminded him of how he used to have a sign on his bedroom door when he was a little boy, saying his abundance of siblings we not allowed. But then it also brought back the memory of his last visit to his parents house. . A strong pang of sadness hit him like a wave. He took a deep breath and tried to rid his mind of the memory and turned the knob.
He stepped in the room and looked at the boy, who looked to be nine. He stepped over and around the toy cars, dinosaurs, and army men that littered the carpet and went to stand next to the bed. There was a night light shaped like a space ship plugged into the wall on the opposite side. He looked at the boy as he slept. He looked peaceful, like he was dreaming he was up in the stars. He reminded Castiel of himself at that age. He had curly brown hair like his own, and a similar face shape. He felt like leaving him alone and just taking everyone else, just for a moment. But then he shook the thought out of his head. And even if he did do that, it would ruin the kid's life.
So he set the knife down on the bedside table and carefully took an extra pillow from his bed and placed it over him. Even though he's not going to back out from him, he won't harm him physically. He's nine. He may be a killer, but he does have some dignity. He watched as the boy slowly stopped breathing, and once he did, he lifted the pillow and set it back where it originally was. He picked up his knife from the table and carefully made his way out, softly shutting the door behind him.
The next room he came to was the sixteen year old, Tiffany's room. But he wasn't going after her yet, he was going to wait and finish her off last. He had something in mind for her. So he passed her door and made for the door that was left ajar at the end of the hall. He stuck his head in and found himself looking at the girl's mother. But since he had seen the girl's room, he wanted to get to her as soon as he could. So he shrugged off his back pack and pulled out the gun, took three steps into the room for better aim, and shot her in the head. He tucked it away and went back into the hall.
When he got back to her room he opened the door precariously, looking in before fully opening the door to make sure she was still asleep. He set his bag down on her vanity and took his things out. He used the wire cutter to work through the rope so he could have a smaller section to work with. He walked over to the edge and leaned over her, grabbing her wrists but not waking her up. Once her wrists were tied together and to the bedpost, he took another section of rope and tied her ankles.
He was genuinely surprised she hadn't woken up yet, mainly because he tied the ropes pretty tight. She must be a heavy sleeper, it was all he could think of as to why she hadn't come to. But he decided to make use of the moment.
Castiel stuck the gag in her mouth then went over to his bag. He pulled out his unused knife and the sharpener he always brought with him. He dragged the edge over it once, that metal-on-metal sound ringing through the room, was all to took. Her eyes shot open and she looked around, the fact that she was tied to the bed slowly sinking in. Castiel started sharpening the knife again, and her eyes darted over to him, and one, two, three seconds passed before she screamed behind the gag. He looked up from his weapon of choice and smirked as her wide eyes bored into him.
"You're awake. I thought I'd have to come shake you awake myself." He set the sharpener down and went over to the bed. "You're a pretty heavy sleeper, I'd have though you'd wake up when I first tied your wrists." She made another noise as he leaned over her and touched the knife to her skin. "Although, the amount of attitude you were giving your dad might have weighed you down so much that your body was trying to sleep it off."
She turned her head to the side as if she didn't understand what he was telling her. "Oh, yes. I've been here for hours. I was here when you came home from dinner. That was very rude of you, by the way. I hate it when you teenagers get like that. I mean, how hard is it to respect what you have?" Now he was pacing the end of the bed, while the girl, Tiffany, watched him with fear. "Now," he said as he made his way back to the side, "I actually want to get some sleep, so let's hurry this up, shall we?"
SPN
A couple hours passed before Castiel became tired, and as he pulled himself away from the bed, which was now bloodstained, he made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan. "Okay, I'm about done. I really need to be going, I need some sleep, too. But I can't exactly leave you in this condition, can I?" He put the knife away and pulled the gun out. He turned back to Tiffany, who saw it and then started to pull on the ropes once more. She had done it so often the last couple hours that the skin under the rope on her wrists and ankles was bloody and torn.
"Look, I know you think the past two hours have been hell, so I'm going to make this quick for you. I'm tired. I want sleep. So, it's actually your lucky day. I'd continue if I weren't so tired. So; anything you'd like to say?" She didn't make any noise behind the gag, so he assumed not. "All right then." Castiel said, and pulled the trigger. He sighed, and packed his things.
But before he could leave, Dean Winchester's last actions popped into his head. He walked over and slit one of her wrists and let it run over his fingers, then turned to the closet doors. But instead of writing out his name, he just stuck his initials there. He wiped his hands on her clothes and stuck the knife in his bag once again. When he was walking out the back door, so in case anyone was awake it wouldn't seem obvious to what just happened, he passed the garage and he caught himself being watched by a camera.
He walked over to it, right in the middle of its view, wiggled his eyebrows, then raised his arm in a two finger solute. He quickly went back to his car and loaded his things, and he was gone. The first thing that wandered into Castiel's mind was how long it would take Dean to see what he did and respond. If he even wanted to respond.
SUPERNATURAL
It had been four days since the bank robbery, and Sam and Dean were enjoying it. That night when Dean returned from the robbery, he had a six pack of beer and sirloin steaks for the two of them. They never got to eat anything so expensive, and so time consuming to make, because they always needed to save the money and were always on the run. But Dean had been in such a good mood that day he allowed it for that one night.
The next few days after that, they found themselves in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. They had found out that's where one of the bullies that used to mess with Sam all throughout high school was living, so naturally, Dean pestered Sam until he agreed to go. Sam wasn't one to hold grudges very long, so he had told Dean that it was fine and that we should let him live his life. But Dean kept insisting, so Sam finally gave in so he would shut up about it.
Dean, at the time, was laying on one of the motel beds with a pair of over ear headphones on listening to Led Zeppelin while Sam, as usual, was on his computer. Dean was never sure what he did on there all the time, and he wasn't too interested to know, either. He was too busy coming up with a game plan for the old high school Wedgie Master. There was silence in the room besides the faint sound of Dean's music, which Sam always said to turn down so he wouldn't go deaf. But it wasn't an awkward silence, it was a silence they were used to and they were comfortable with it. It wasn't until Sam's face changed to something of surprise and amusement that the silence was broken.
"Uh, Sam? You okay over there?" Dean asked slowly. Sam just nodded, then shook his head with a light, short laugh and looked at Dean.
"I'm fine, Dean. You just have to come see this." Sam said.
Dean sighed and sat up. "This better be worth seeing, Sammy. Cause if it's not better than Led Zeppelin, I will smack you upside the head." He rolled his eyes as he waited for his brother to get up and come over. Once he was standing over his shoulders, he pointed to the screen and looked at him.
"Tell me what you make of this, Dean." Was all he said to him. He just stood there and stared at the screen for a minute, then suddenly he started to laugh as a goofy grin spread on his face.
"Well, I'll be damned." On the screen was an article called 'Five Million Dollar Check Winner and Her Family Murdered'. But that's not what got him; it was the pictures. But not all of them, just one in particular. It was a teenage girl's room, with the letters D W on the closet doors. Dean knew only one person could have done this.
"It looks like your student responded." Sam said, clearly amused by the whole scene laid out before him.
"That he did, Sammy!" Dean replied excitedly. "That he did!" He then noticed that there was a video underneath the pictures. "Hey, click on that." He motioned towards the video. Sam scrolled down the screen and clicked play. It was only fifteen seconds, but it was enough. It showed him, Castiel, looking at the camera. A short moment passed before he wiggled his eyebrows up and down, then two finger solutes the camera. Dean's smile never left his face. "Looks like I got a little more brainstorming to do today, Sammy." Sam looked at his brother and raised an eyebrow, and Dean just winked at him. "I got a busy night ahead." Dean walked over to the cooler and grabbed a beer.
SPN
The contact went on for weeks. Dean would leave something at a scene for Castiel to see, and then he would do the same for Dean. The locals had no idea what was going on and it highly amused him. But it wasn't just the scene messages, either. They left solutes and winks and told each other things through people's home security cameras. No matter where they traveled, no matter how far apart or close they were to each other, they always left the other something. And at some point, they stopped calling him by his full name, and shortened it to Cas.
Sometime during it all, Dean figured out a pattern. It was pretty easy, if he paid attention enough. How the Feds hadn't figured it out already, he had no clue. Cas always went two states over, or two states up or down, then back a state. He always did the same thing. By the second week, Dean realized that this guy might get in their way, and he didn't like that. He liked having something to do besides killing and running, but if he wasn't careful, something could happen. So he made a mental note that if he ever runs into him, he'd have to kill him. Simple as that.
By the third week, Sam had found a way to track his laptop. Dean had no idea how he did it, but it worked. Wherever Cas had his laptop, a little red dot shone on Sam's map, showing them exactly where he was. He asked Sam if he could get any closer to anything that had to with his laptop, and he said he would try.
So, by the fifth week, Sam came over to Dean with a triumphant smile. He looked at him confused before he set the computer in front of Dean with some files on the screen. He gave Sam a face something along the line of 'are you being serious right now?', but Sam said, "Just read it, Dean." So he sighed and took the computer from Sam and red the files. As he read, his lips parted and disbelief surfaced in his mind.
When he finished, he looked up at Sam, who was still smiling, and asked, "Is this what I think it is?"
Sam nodded once and said back, "it is. The encrypted files from his computer. I hacked into his system. Apparently he keeps record of his larger plans so he doesn't forget where he wants to go while on smaller jobs."
"Sam, this is. . Wow. Great job, man." Was all he could say.
"Yeah. And it looks like he plans on being in Oklahoma in two days. A massacre, at one of their popular arcades. We're not too far from there, actually. Maybe a day and a half of driving. If we leave tonight we should get there in time, if you want. I mean, we already did what we came to do here, so I figured, why not?"
Dean cracked a smile at his brother and told him, "I like your way of thinking." He jumped up from his chair and started packing up their stuff.
SPN
The next day and a half they spent driving, almost non stop. Dean was eager to see this guy, even though he planned on killing him, but that didn't change a thing. He planned on at least talking to him before he ganked him.
Sam parked the impala behind the bushes near an old, rundown house. It was in good condition, good enough for a temporary living space. According to their map, Cas was staying here while he was in town. They both looked at one another, and Sam said, "You ready, Dean?"
Dean sighed and looked at the house. "Yeah, I'm good. You got my gun?" Sam reached into the back seat where a backpack sat, and pulled out a gun with a long, thin barrel. Dean took it and observed it, as he often did. There were etchings all along the barrel, a pentagram on the handle, and the Latin words 'non timebo mala', meaning "I will fear no evil." He looked back up at his brother, who nodded once. Dean stepped out of the car and started towards the house, but Sam rolled down the window and called him.
"Just try not to take too long once he gets here, alright? I don't want to end up sitting here for several hours."
"Yeah, Sam, I got it. I only plan on having about a twenty minute conversation with the guy. I'll be out as soon as I can." Sam nodded again and rolled up the window, and Dean headed for the house.
The door creaked when he went in, but there was no one home, so he didn't make much of it. He walked around until he found the room with his belongings, which happened to be the dining room of the place, which was surprisingly very large. He leaned on the table that was pushed up against the back wall and waited.
Maybe half an hour went by before he heard the sound of a car pull up from outside. Dean had closed his eyes a while before and had his arms crossed over his chest, waiting. The moment he heard the noise, his eyes shot open and he uncrossed his arms. When he heard the door creak open, he stood up straight and looked at his gun. The footsteps came closer until they entered the room, and then abruptly stopped.
"Castiel," Dean said. "You were out a little longer than I expected you to be."
SUPERNATURAL
AN:
Well, that was interesting. . I'm sorry about Gabe. Please don't hate me, haha. I almost left him alive but then I thought. . Nah. But yeah. The next chapter should be interesting to write! Anyway, I hope you liked it! I'm open to any suggestions you guys may have. Robberies, murders, kidnapping (although I may do that a little later on..), scene ideas, ect. I'd love to hear y'all's ideas! (I watch too many crime shows... that's probably where the majority of these violent thoughts and ideas are coming from..) Chapter four will be up as soon as I can write it! Please leave a review and let me know! Thank you all for reading!
