Parcell sank into the technician's chair, studying the unmoving image.
Castiel shrugged. "Obviously, I chose not to destroy him – or to hand him over to Sanchez, which would have been the same thing. I had my own reasons for doing so, and I am not answerable to you, Hannah."
"And you could have said so at the time. Instead you chose to deceive us – to deceive me – by implying that he was dead. Too much has happened lately, Castiel. We cannot lie to each other."
"Demons can't lie?" He looked amused, as Parcell looked up at him. "Isn't that what we do, Hannah? I have to wash up. If the police come before I'm ready, tell them I'm on a business call in my office and will be with them very soon."
He strode out of the office. Hannah looked after him, took a step.
Parcell's hand closed around her wrist. She looked at him in irritation, saw the expression on his face, and sank into the chair next to him.
"I recognize this human too." Parcell's voice was low. "He was doing lawn care at Malazir's home one afternoon. She was planning to use him as one of her – playthings."
"And he escaped her too."
"I think he did more than escape her. This was the day before I found her body."
Her eyes went wide and she sat back in her chair.
"I never considered saying anything about it because he was just a human, and it never occurred to me that he might be able to stir a hair on Malazir's head. But recently – "
"But recently a human killed Lester. And apparently a human killed Malazir."
"This dark-horse hit man that apparently only Castiel knows. Somehow equipped with demonic weapons."
"The tempered jawbone that supposedly came from a demon in Texas. But there was one missing from Mr. Vincent's personal armory."
"Angel-blade bullets, too. Castiel told the Council about that just before the bomb went off. An angel-blade bullet killed Malazir."
"And M – " Hannah stammered. "Mr. Vincent."
She ran her hands through her hair. Parcell watched her carefully.
"But why?" she whispered. "It makes no sense."
Parcell shrugged. "I can think of three separate explanations that make sense."
"Three?"
"One: Castiel wants supreme power among the Loyalists. He may not have realized that the deaths of Mr. Vincent and Malazir would set Hex off on a murder rampage, or he may have known it full well. He may have been working with Hex from the outset."
"He has nothing but contempt for Hex."
"Which might make him consider Hex a useful tool."
Hannah shook her head, and Parcell continued, "Two: Castiel has betrayed the Loyalists, gone over to the Terrestrial cause. He may want supreme power among the Loyalists in order to destroy us completely, or he may simply have wanted to set Loyalists against each other to benefit the Terrestrial cause."
Hannah closed her eyes and took a breath as though absorbing a body blow, then opened her eyes again. "Three?"
"Three: The human wants to make war on demons, and Castiel is helping because he's in love." Parcell pointed at the screen. "The human is even better-looking in person."
"Even if Castiel discarded his demonic nature so completely that he would – fall in love, he isn't so superficial that he'd choose someone because he's good-looking."
"Well. They may have interests in common."
Hannah closed her eyes again. Parcell, seeing her obvious pain, gave a quick silent chuckle, but his face was straight by the time she opened her eyes.
"We must take action," she said.
"Castiel must be exorcised."
"No. No. He's been too good for the Loyalist cause. In the past. And you could be wrong. Or you may be right. About the human. He has bewitched Castiel, drawn him into doing things that Castiel would never do otherwise. He – He has to make a choice. He has to make a choice."
She focused on Parcell. "I will take care of this matter. It will be resolved, one way or the other. Please don't tell anyone about this until that time."
The word "please" is almost unknown among demons, and it was the second time in five minutes that Hannah had used it. Parcell kept himself from smiling; his voice was grave. "This is vitally important information to the Loyalists, Hannah. If I stay silent, I'm committing treason myself."
Hannah cut to the chase. "What do you want?"
"At the moment, nothing. But at some future date I'm going to need a serious favor. And you'll arrange it for me. Or I'll tell everyone that you begged me to withhold information about a traitor because you loved him."
"Yes. Of course. I would owe you a favor even without the threat."
Parcell nodded, stood. "I'll be on my way. Call me if I can assist. And Hannah – remember that I survived a bomb. My security reaches beyond mere steel and weaponry. Just in case you become concerned about my silence."
She nodded, and Parcell left.
She stared at the floor for several minutes. Her hands curled slowly into fists and her back bent as though she were being racked by pain.
Then her eyes went black, her back straightened, and she pulled her phone from her jacket pocket.
"Devin? Mat, the video technician, is in the kitchen. Tell him he can have the rest of the day off. Then get Inzur and bring him with you to the monitor room. Tell no one else about these instructions. Is that clear?"
After a moment, satisfied, she disconnected.
She turned on the chair, her eyes still completely black, and looked at the human on the screen.
Castiel went into his office, pulled his phone from his jacket pocket.
Then he stopped, looking around the room as if thinking about something, actually studying the walls for surveillance devices.
Then he used the phone to call downstairs and ask Frederic to brew a pot of green tea, which he'd be down to enjoy shortly.
He showered, changed clothes. He seemed quite normal at dinner; Hannah was silent. He left his trench coat upstairs, and one of the housekeepers teased him about it. He waited for the police to arrive, but they didn't, not then.
.
Dean was quiet when he got back to the apartment, telling Sam he just needed to do some thinking. He didn't tell Sam about the incident at the SavorStop, but watched the local news as he ordered a delivery pizza. He needn't have worried; eight bodies near Mount Wilson, two of them suspected associates of organized crime and one a prominent surgeon who had disappeared under violent circumstances two weeks ago, completely excluded any coverage of a quick brawl in a convenience store.
After dinner, Dean stretched out on the inflatable mattress he'd brought into the apartment, pulled a sheet over himself, and lay quietly, not sleeping, but not speaking. Sam turned out the lights, took one of the non-prescription sleeping pills that were just beginning to help him get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, and looked at Dean's laptop until the pill kicked in. On his way to the sofa bed, he squeezed Dean's shoulder gently, and took Dean's little sound of pain as a drowsy grunt.
.
The next morning, Castiel dressed carefully, examining every piece of clothing as he put it on. Before he went down to breakfast, he went into his office, closed the door, and examined the room for hidden cameras.
Satisfied, he went to the wall safe, opened it, and removed a wallet much like the one that was already in his suit jacket. He checked over the new wallet – driver's license, credit cards, a passcard from a national bank, cash. He put it into a pocket on the other side of his suit jacket, closed the safe, and went down to breakfast.
He left his new, undamaged trench coat hanging on a coat rack in his room.
The police arrived at the Bel Air mansion early that afternoon, and told Castiel that his presence was requested at the station again. Castiel asked Hannah to bring his trench coat, and left with the detectives.
The hours that followed were frustrating on both sides. The detectives knew damn well that Castiel was involved in the mob war that had just killed eight people – including a surgeon who, they assumed, was there as a hostage or shield – in a national forest. They'd caught a glimpse on a traffic camera of one of the victims, a guy named Revard Williams, apparently sleeping in the back seat of Castiel's car on the day of a bombing that killed three people whose bodies were burned beyond recognition. It seemed logical that Revard may have been injured in the bombing and was fleeing the scene, especially since his car was there at the bomb site, but they couldn't exactly question Williams, who was dead, or the chauffeur, who was dead, or Sarah Hughes, whose car was at the scene and who was presumably one of the bodies inside. (Parcell wasn't picked up by traffic cameras.)
Mrs. Vincent, the widow and mother of Castiel's boss and co-worker, was still somewhere in the South Pacific. Mr. Vincent's secretary, a nice and cooperative woman, looked at a picture of Malazir's dead face, shuddered, and then said the picture was of a woman named Malazir who had been in meetings with her boss once a month. They'd known Malazir was associated with Sucro because her Hidden Hills home was owned by a shell company that traced back to Sucro. The contents of Malazir's home were bizarre, and appeared to have nothing to do with either Sucro's business or organized crime. But again, it wasn't like they could question the woman about it.
Over the course of the afternoon, they brought in every member of Castiel's staff, walking them past the window of the office in which he was being interrogated. (And now he knew why he wasn't in a regular interrogation room.) He had the feeling that this was supposed to unnerve him, but he wasn't unnerved. He did wonder why didn't see Lina, a red-headed housekeeper; he had seen her at the house that morning. But it was just as well; Lina had a hair-trigger temper.
He and the staff had worked out his alibi for the previous day, and it was easy to stick to. They would stick to it, too; Hannah's suspicion of him wouldn't show itself at the police station. Deflecting nosy humans was more important to any demon than his own battles.
No, he knew exactly how Hannah's suspicions would be expressed, and it wouldn't be by giving him over to human law enforcement. As he'd checked his clothing that morning before putting it on, he'd been sure that the police would take him out of the house that day. He'd kept some distance from all staff members, so that the only chance anyone would have to plant anything on him would be when he'd asked Hannah to bring his coat.
And sure enough, there was a homing device in an inside pocket of the coat.
He found it, two hours after he'd left the house, standing in a men's room stall. He'd dropped it in a trash can. It was meant for following at a distance, and whoever was tracking it wouldn't be able to tell that the phone had switched rooms; it would look like Castiel was still in the police station. The demon keeping track of the device would have to be fairly nearby, and now he knew why Lina hadn't been at the house to be rounded up by police and questioned.
His staff members had all been allowed to leave by the time the police released him. He found his way to a back exit, blinded the security cameras there, disappeared, and reappeared a half-block away. He did that once more before he was in an area too populous for him to disappear.
He walked to a discount store, bought a phone, and had it activated, keeping a close eye on the people around him. There was an alley nearby, deserted and darkening as the sun was going down, and now he could make the phone call he'd wanted to make since he'd seen the video last night.
.
"You're not hearing me," Lina snapped at the desk sergeant. "Of course I can demand to see him, I'm his lawyer." She showed him her phone. "I can pull up the Sixth Amendment right here, if you can read it."
"What's all this?" Detective Edwards asked as he reached the desk from the elevator.
She spun. "My name is Lina Johnston. I'm Castiel De Santis' lawyer, and I demand to see him. You can't hold him here indefinitely."
"Well – there are two problems with that, Ms. Johnston." Edwards seemed a little distracted. "Haven't I seen you at Mr. DeSantis' house before?"
Since the housekeepers didn't wear uniforms of any kind, the question didn't bother Lina. "Doubtless you have. As I said, I'm his lawyer. I've always told him he's far too self-confident, talking to you people by himself. This afternoon you took him away and he hasn't been heard from since. You'll let me speak to him or face legal consequences."
"Well, as I said, Ms. Johnston, there are two problems with that. First, Mr. De Santis told us that he didn't need a lawyer, because he is a lawyer. And second, he left a half-hour ago."
Lina glared at him for a moment, shifted her gaze.
The personification of courtesy, Edwards said, "But if you have a business card I'd be happy to take it. What firm did you say you're with?"
A heavy, three-inch binder on an overhead shelf dropped, slamming into the desk sergeant's back. He doubled over and swore.
"Nice shelving," Lina said, and stormed out.
She walked a couple of blocks to her car, got in, and grabbed her phone. "He's been gone for a half-hour, but the tracking device says he's still at the station. I told you that two of us weren't enough to stake out the building."
The coolness of Hannah's voice belied her words. "Don't blame me for your incompetence. Drive around the area for a while – he doesn't have a car, he may be on foot."
"Unless he's doing his vanishing jumps."
"Those only go so far, and he obviously can't do them in front of humans. Tell Frederic to do the same thing, drive around and watch for him. If you see him, don't do anything, just contact me and don't lose him again."
Hannah disconnected. Devin, standing next to her in the monitor room, said, "He found the tracking device."
"And left it in the police station when he took off a half-hour ago." Hannah's eyes were black. "He could be anywhere. With anyone."
She pressed a button on the phone. "Parcell, this is Hannah. Call me as soon as you hear this. It's urgent."
.
"Do you think you hurt him bad?" Sam asked.
Dean had been quiet all day, and Sam hadn't pushed him. He'd spent some time buying banker's boxes and duffel bags, then putting into them items he and Dean wouldn't be using in the next couple of days. Finally, just before dinner, Dean had started talking about yesterday's battle; about (briefly) his disappointment with Castiel; and finally about the fight in the convenience store, which, he was pretty sure, was recorded on a store security camera. Now they were sitting at the dining table, their dinner dishes empty and pushed to one side.
"Not too bad," Dean said. "Bloody nose, black eye. The thing is, I didn't have to hurt him at all. It was like – I got some kind of satisfaction out of it. Almost, almost joy."
He stared at the table and Sam watched him.
"I think I need to get back to a normal human life right now. Stop dealing with demons, thinking like one. Make money some way other than stealing it. Although how I'm going to get a job, I don't know. I've had one employer the last seven years, I can't exactly use them as a reference."
"You'll figure out something," Sam said. "And until you do, I'll get work, tell 'em I've been freelance. You gave up your life and committed crimes to – well, to pull me out of Hell. I can support both of us until we get it all worked out."
"Even after our two days at Chateau Marmont, I've got enough money left to get us someplace else. Unless – you want to stay in California?"
Sam shook his head. "But not back to Austin, either. You know the first thing that would happen, I'd run into Sarah."
"Well – maybe she'd forgive you, you could – "
"I've changed. I'm not the guy Sarah loved. I can tell. It'd be too hard for both of us. Maybe I can write her a letter and mail it from here – explaining or apologizing or – but what would I tell her?"
"Yeah. And Texas wouldn't be a good idea for me either. There's probably still a warrant out for my arrest. Although that would be something I could do now too – mail the stuff I took back to the company, some really slow way, so we've been gone for days by the time they get it."
Sam smiled. "I'll tell you, I'd rather face your former employers than Sarah."
"Me too."
They both chuckled a little.
Then Sam asked, "Cas?"
After a moment Dean said, "I want to talk to him one more time. I was thinking last night – Maybe he thinks that if he goes with us he's, you know, committed to me for some long-term thing, and that isn't what he wants. I want to tell him he can get out of here with us, and we can help him through the transition to human, just as friends. The Three Musketeers. I really want him to be human, be happy, but we don't have to be a big item if he doesn't want that."
"I actually think he does," Sam said. "I've seen the way he looks at you. But I also saw your shoulder this morning."
"Mm," Dean said ruefully.
"What was that, an ownership brand?"
"How did – oh, yeah."
"Oh, yeah. I had one of those things inside my mind for six months. I know how they think. They're not capable of love, but they're capable of territoriality. If Cas comes with us and doesn't go human, it's going to end up being you or him. And since I have the tie-breaker on that one, you know how that'll turn out."
Dean tossed him a half-smile. "So yeah, phone Cas – "
"You got his number?"
"Finally. Yesterday, just before we went into the forest. Phone Cas, tell him he can come with us, go through some pain but then be happy and human, or he can stay here and go completely demonic and wind up back in Hell someday. And I need him to get rid of the weapons from the fight. I've got a trunk full of angel-bullet guns and bloody angel blades wrapped in a bloody coat, I really don't want to get stopped by a highway patrolman who wants to prove something."
"Yeah, that might not be too good." And after a moment, "So should we – "
"Back in Black" sounded from the kitchen counter. Dean rose, picked his phone up, looked at Sam with a nod, and accepted the call. "Hey."
"You must leave town immediately," Castiel said.
"What happened?"
"What happened was that you decided to have a brawl in a Sucro-owned convenience store. There are special cameras over the coffee areas, meant to catch Terrestrials plotting, and the feeds go directly to my home."
"In Bel Air? Are you kidding?"
"Hannah saw your face clearly, and recognized you as the burglar I supposedly killed. She suspects that I let you live so that you would commit the recent killings."
"Crap. You know, Cas, it would've been helpful if you'd told me about the SavorStops."
"I admit that. On the other hand, it would have been helpful if you hadn't drawn attention to yourself by beating a drunk."
There was a pause, then Dean said, "Yeah."
And after another pause Castiel said, "We have both failed, and we must both take action."
"Sam and I can be ready in about a half-hour. He says, he says it's OK with him if you come with us. We can be the Three Musketeers – all for one, one for all."
Castiel's tone softened. "Tell him – I appreciate the offer. But I'm going to contact my Terrestrial handler and rejoin them."
Dean looked at the floor, took a breath.
Then he looked up. "What do I do about all the bloody weapons in my trunk?"
A moment's thought. "Give them to me. The Terrestrials need them."
"All right. Are you in Bel Air now?"
"Downtown Los Angeles, without transportation. I'm going to take a cab to LAX and rent a car, then I'll drive out to San Bernardino."
"Too long. Go someplace near the airport. About the time you have your car and get there, I'll get there, and Sam will stay here and get us packed."
"All right. Let's try the Embassy Suites near LAX. I'll wait in the lobby to hear from you and my Terrestrial handler."
"I'll meet you there in an hour and a half or so."
"It may take me longer. I'll be making driving maneuvers to be sure I'm not followed."
"Keep me posted. And, be careful."
"I will." Cas disconnected, and then Dean did too.
Sam was standing. "What?"
Dean told him, ending with, "Crap. I've put Cas' life in real danger because I was an asshole. All those years he spent getting in good with the Loyalists, shot to hell."
"Well, but Dean, he was the one who made the change. He could've stayed under the radar forever, but he decided he wanted to start a war among the Loyalist leadership. Once he got that started, it spiraled out of control, and it was pretty inevitable that someone would make a misstep that would blow everything up."
"Well – thanks for the excuse."
"Now. What are you doing while I'm supposedly here packing?"
"I'm gonna meet Cas near LAX and give the weapons back to him. He's going to give them to the Terrestrial demons, which – " Dean shrugged, his face sad – "I guess, is better."
"I'm coming with you."
"This isn't going to be dangerous. Cas won't show if he's being tailed. And they don't know who or where I am, just my face."
"You're not hearing me, Dean."
"And you're not hearing me," Dean snapped. His gaze shifted. "I want to say goodbye to Cas."
After a moment, Sam said, "OK. But call every fifteen minutes."
"On the freeway? I'll call you when I get off the freeway and before I start back."
"Don't forget. I'll have stuff boxed up and ready to throw in the Impala by the time you get here."
"We'll top off the tank on the way out of town, start on the 10 going east, and decide where we're goin' from there."
"Sounds good. Wait."
Sam went to the closet and pulled out the long box, which Dean had left unlocked since Sam recovered substantially from possession. He popped it open, pulled out the gun and two extra bullets in a container, re-closed it, and handed the box to Dean. "Give him the jawbone and the blade, while you're at it." He handed the angel-bullet gun to Dean. "But keep this."
Although he'd reloaded it after shooting at Hex, Dean checked the gun. "Glad Cas gave us those bullets he took off Megaera's body, but I hope we don't need 'em." He put the gun into the back of his waistband, pulled on his jacket, and grabbed the box. "Back in two or three hours. We'll be at the Embassy Suites, near the airport."
"Call."
"Yes, Grandma."
.
Hannah was conferring with Devin and Inzur in the monitor room when Parcell walked down the hall from another room. "Well, finally!" she snapped.
He raised an eyebrow. "Hannah, I interrupted a delightful evening to drive out here and scry for the renegade that your people lost. I'd think a more grateful tone would be called for."
She took a breath. "It is. You're right. But you know how important this is. Do you have a location?"
"Everything old is new again. He's at LAX."
"Damnation." All three rose, and Hannah asked Parcell, "Can you stay here, make sure that he's still at LAX when we get there, or track him in a plane?"
"Scrying isn't a homing device. I'll be able to tell you if he's moving again, and when he comes to rest I'll be able to tell you where he is. If he moves I can probably tell you if he's in the city or moving away fast, as in a jet, but I can't guarantee that."
"Well, let us know as much as you can. And – thank you for your assistance, Parcell."
"Thank you for the chance to accumulate more favors."
She nodded and left with Devin and Inzur. Parcell went back to the room where he was scrying.
.
Castiel carefully observed the headlights of the car behind him as he drove down the ramp to Highway 1 in his rental car. The headlights were all he could distinguish in the dark. It seemed like they were following his car closely, but as both cars moved onto the freeway, Castiel maintained an even 55 miles per hour and the other car blew past him. He smiled a little.
He took an eastbound exit to begin the first of his anti-tailing maneuvers.
.
"I'm off the freeway, sitting at a stoplight, still alive," Dean told Sam.
"Have you heard from Cas yet?"
"Just called him. He's sure he's not being followed, so he's headed for the hotel. I think we'll get there about the same time."
"Don't hang around there."
"Hell, no. Cas thinks they might have a sorcerer scrying for him, so it's important for him to keep moving. I wish – "
After a moment Sam said, "Well, maybe he'll jump in the Impala and keep moving with you. It'd be the smart thing to do. I'm guessing if he turned human he'd be a different enough entity that they wouldn't be able to find him by scrying."
"Good thought. I'll suggest that. Call you later."
"Stay safe," Sam said, but Dean had already disconnected.
.
Dean got to the hotel a few minutes before Castiel, and sat in the lobby reading a newspaper until he saw a tan coat in the corner of his eye. He looked up just as Castiel saw him and moved over to him.
Dean stood and spoke low. "I've got the Impala parked at one side of the hotel. There's a Dumpster and some bushes that make it a little obscure. You want to bring your car around and we'll make the transfer?"
Castiel nodded, and together they walked to the parking lot. As Cas unlocked the car, Dean chuckled. It was a white Toyota Prius hatchback. "Well, if you wanted the opposite look in a car from what you usually have, this does it."
They got into the car, and Dean asked, "Have you heard from the Terrestrials yet?"
"Not yet. I texted the extraction code, but it may be taking them a while to put things in place."
There was an odd note in his voice that made Dean look at him sharply. "After everything you've done, they wouldn't just leave you hanging out here, would they?"
"I don't believe so," Cas said, as if it were an interesting scientific question, and started the car. "Which way?"
Dean looked at him incredulously, then pointed. Castiel headed for the side of the building he indicated.
"Cas," Dean said, and ran out of words. He tried again. "Cas. Please. Come with us. You've done your part for your demon buddies. Get the hell out of here with me. With Sam and me. We don't have to be together, we can just be – just be friends. Just don't spend the rest of time hanging out with hate-filled – things who don't give a damn about you. Sam thinks, if you turn human, you'll be a different enough being that scrying won't be able to find you. You'll be free."
Castiel focused on finding Dean's car, pulling up next to it, the trunks side by side. Then he said, "I'll never be free, Dean. I will always carry the memory of what I did as a demon. I don't deserve – "
He looked directly at Dean. "I don't deserve you."
He turned off the car. "And even so, it would – I would – be pleased – if you would stay. You wouldn't have to be involved in demonic warfare, just – with me."
"Yeah. I would have to be. You'd be in danger all the time, I wouldn't just be able to ignore that. And – well."
Abruptly, Dean left the car, and Cas did the same. Cas opened the trunk of the rental car as Dean opened the Impala's trunk. Together they transferred the weapons, then each closed the trunk of his car.
"I'm sorry that I screwed up your life," Dean said. "But that's why I can't stay. The guy yesterday – he was a jerk, but I didn't need to beat him like that. I was, upset, and I guess I felt like hitting him would – "
"You were in pain. It lessened your pain, at least for a time, to hurt someone else."
"Yeah. Exactly what you go through. I can't – I don't want to be like a demon, Cas. I want to be human. And I want you to be human with me."
"I wish," Castiel said. "I wish I could."
After a moment, they moved toward each other. Dean put his arms around Castiel and they kissed until Cas made a little choked sound of pain.
Dean lifted his face, but didn't let go. "I opened a gmail account this afternoon," he said. "Combination of our names, destiel. D-E-S-T-I-E-L. You change your mind, or you need anything, you let me know. I don't care where you are. I'll get there."
Castiel nodded, and they kissed again.
Then Castiel pushed him away gently and turned, going to the driver's door of his car. Dean watched Castiel over the Prius' roof as he moved to the driver's door of the Impala. They gave each other a last look.
A male demon ran out from behind the shrubbery, between the cars, straight at Dean. No time to draw his weapon and no space to evade, Dean simply threw a punch that connected but didn't affect the demon. The demon hit him, and Dean collapsed.
Castiel shouted "Dean!" and vanished, reappearing beside Dean, ready to set the other demon on fire.
"Castiel!" Hannah's voice, clear and sharp.
Devin, the demon who'd punched Dean, raised his hands. Dean stirred, and Castiel looked around.
Hannah was crouched on top of the Dumpster on the other side of Cas' car, pointing an angel blade down at Dean. The instant that Cas looked up at her, Devin drew a gun and pointed it down at Dean.
"Don't make a move," Hannah said. "Don't say a word. If you attack me, Devin will kill your human. If you attack Devin, I will send this blade into your human's heart. If you somehow manage to neutralize both of us at once, Inzur is hiding nearby, and he will kill your human."
"Hannah – "
"Not a word. Raise your hands."
He did so as Inzur emerged from the other side of Dean's car and joined Devin. Devin searched Dean's jacket and waistband. Dean clenched his fists, clearly wanting to attack, looking up at Inzur's gun and over at Hannah's blade, as Devin took his phone.
Hannah pulled the phone from Castiel's suit jacket and the angel blade from under his coat, then, for some reason, pulled the belt from his coat. "Get into the car, put your hands on the wheel, and keep them there."
"Gun," Devin said, pulling it out from under Dean's back. "What do you want to bet it has angel-blade bullets?"
"Get him in the car. Turn your head, Castiel."
She gagged him tightly with his coat belt, the fabric pressing his tongue so that he couldn't enunciate. "If you try to touch that, I will kill your human. He has destroyed you. I would take great pleasure in destroying him. Put your hands on the wheel and don't move them."
Devin and Inzur hauled Dean to his feet, although Dean tried to pull away. Inzur ran to the other side of the Prius and got in the back seat behind Castiel. Devin stuck Dean's own gun in Dean's back, and with a, "Yeah, yeah, I got it," Dean climbed into the back between the two guards. Finally Hannah got into the front seat next to Castiel, pointing her weapon at him, and told him the route she wanted him to drive back to the Bel Air mansion.
Castiel glanced over his shoulder at Dean, who said, "I'm OK."
"Don't look at him," Hannah said. "He's nothing. Drive."