AN: Thanks so much for the reading and reviewing. To answer your question, yes we will definitely get to meet Brian in chapter 7. I think it will turn out very well ; ). I thought that it was about time for Dean to turn the tables a little. It seems like the guy's getting a bad rap from both Cas and Sam. I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 5

Cas stood on the porch facing both Sam and Dean. Dean held his keys in the air and shook them. "Change of plans. You and me are going and I'm driving." Sam shot Cas an apologetic look and shrugged.

"No Dean, you're not." Cas started walking down the stairs and almost got to the gate when he heard Dean tell Sam to go inside. He turned around and glared. "What the hell do you think gives you the right to tell everyone else what to do?"

Dean smirked and walked down the steps, pulling a shiny silver disc from his pocket. "In this case, it would be the sheriff." He waved the disc in front of Cas before sticking it back in his pocket. "Your girlfriend paid me a visit yesterday."

He looked wearily at Dean, his eyes an eerie combination of anger and sadness. He had no doubts about what that disc was. "What is on that disc is none of your business. It has nothing to do with you."

"Yeah, well I think it does, and so does Rachel. She's delightful, by the way, a real sweetheart."

"You knowing, doesn't change anything. I'm not taking you to that house. Good-bye, Dean." Cas turned around and opened the gate, stepping to the sidewalk.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, your choice." Dean followed him, arms folded over his chest.

Cas smiled and stepped directly in front of Dean, a smirk on his face. "Really? You might not like the hard way, Dean. You don't know me well enough to threaten me. I know a technique that can render you unconscious by using only two fingers. Would you like me to demonstrate?"

"Yeah, that won't be necessary, I figured as much." He smiled and took a step back. "You don't know me very well either, professor. See, I met this guy at the State lock-up a few years back. Guy got busted hacking the NSA." He smiled at Cas again. "Impressive, I know. Thing is, we got kind of tight back in the day and he owes me a favor. So he set me up this thing where the contents of this disc…" Dean pulled out the disk and waved it in front of Cas again. "…gets simultaneously released to YouTube, Twitter, and Facebook: Oh yeah, let's not forget Tumblr." He winked and shot Cas a big grin. "This release happens at 12:01am professor, unless I stop it personally." He walked around to stand about an inch in front of Cas. "Can you say 'viral', Dr. Novak?"

"Even you, wouldn't do something like that. You're bluffing." Cas refused to step back, not willing to give Dean the satisfaction.

"Oh, you think so? Take a look in my eyes and tell me if you think I'm bluffing." Dean took a step back, waiting for the answer. "Tick-tock, professor."

Cas narrowed his eyes, his breathing heavy. He wanted to punch something and Dean was the closest thing, but he wouldn't give the man that satisfaction, either. "Fine. Let's go." Cas moved around Dean and got into the passenger's side of a black Chevy Impala.

Dean got in and grinned at the very angry professor. "You are as smart as they say. Good choice." He started the engine, turned the radio up and pulled into the road.

After about thirty miles Dean came to a rest area and pulled in. For the first time the entire trip, Cas turned and looked at Dean. "Didn't you go before we left the house or were you too busy consorting with criminals to remember basic, human body functions?"

Dean turned the engine off and turned to look at Cas. Okay, here it is. I made that shit up. I saw what was on that disc and I'm not that much of a dick. I wouldn't share what I saw with anyone. Sam doesn't even know. But you and I, we need to talk about it before we get there. Whatever's at the Monroe house was speaking to you personally." He pulled the slip of paper Cas had written the EVPs on and handed it to him. "Don't you think that may be relevant? You have evidence of paranormal activity right on that disc. Don't you think that's something you should have shared?"

Cas shook his head. "I've never seen the footage. I don't know what is or isn't on that disc. Living it was enough, too much actually." He'd spent the past year trying to put what was on that disc out of his mind, forget about it. Nothing good could come from watching it.

Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose before running a hand through his short hair. "Why the hell did you agree to help us with this case? There's no way you're capable of doing this."

"You don't know me well enough to determine what am or am not capable of. If I didn't think I could handle it, I would have called someone else to help you. I'm not an infant."

"But you presume that I am?" He noted the confused look on Cas' face. "Man, Sam and Rachel both spilled why you really didn't want me to come. Word of advice: Sam's worse than a girl, he can't keep a secret from me. And newsflash, Rachel is a girl, in case you haven't noticed. You don't get to decide what I'm capable of either. But with you, it's different. You could have told me, I would have understood." He looked out the windshield into the picnic area. "I do understand, so if you want me to turn this car around, I will. I called the Monroes and pushed the appointment back an hour and a half. Rachel's right, you shouldn't be involved in this."

"Dean, this case is a trap. It was speaking directly to me. You and Sam were pulled in because of me. There's no way I'm letting you walk in there alone. This isn't a leaky faucet or bad wiring, or any of the hundred other usual causes of false activity. It's not even a ghost. This is a demonic entity. They remember, they learn, and they become stronger with fear and feed off of every human insecurity that exists."

"Even more reason that you should have told us the truth." Dean sighed. He didn't want to be cruel. He could tell this discussion was uncomfortable for the guy. "Don't you think we would have all been safer if you'd just told us the truth from the jump?"

Cas shook his head. "Not a single night passes that I don't have nightmares. I still replay that night over and over again in my head. I can't just talk it over with people. Sara was ill. We didn't know until that night. Her personality had suddenly changed a couple months before that footage was filmed, but I thought it was just hormones or some other 'woman' thing. She became uncharacteristically sarcastic, rude, even started drinking. I should have known."

"You mean, she started acting like me?" Cas nodded and frowned, lowering his head to his hands. "Cas, I think you should watch the disc."

Cas looked up at Dean. "To what end? I did this." He picked up the disc and threw it into the back seat. More than anything he wanted to break it in half, crush it into tiny pieces, but he just couldn't. He took a deep breath and looked back over at Dean. "It's my fault that four people are dead. I don't need to watch a DVD to know that. What I can do, is make sure it doesn't happen again."

Dean reached his hand over and placed it on the other man's shoulder. "Hey, no. How can you think any of that was your fault?"

Cas stiffened and looked down at the hand on his shoulder and pulled himself away. "Because I knew there was something there, something dangerous. But instead of leaving and getting my team the hell out of there, I pushed it, taunted it. I needed evidence, something big that couldn't be refuted. We had a show…" Dean nodded. He'd already known. Sam found it that first day. "It became about the success, not the science. I killed four people so I could film a ghost."

He looked out the window, away from Dean. "I wish she had killed me too. Being alive, being forced to live with the guilt, knowing that no matter how much good I try to do, it will never make up for my sins; that's my punishment."

Dean wasn't gonna touch that one with a ten foot pole. He couldn't argue with the logic and he knew damn good and well that no words would magically change the guy's mind. "Can we kill it?"

Cas looked up, shocked. That wasn't what he expected to hear. "If we're to assume that the laws of physics still apply, then theoretically, energy can't be created or destroyed, so no. We can only make it leave."

Dean gave a sarcastic laugh and rolled his eyes. "So we help the Monroes by sending it straight to someone else. Wonderful. That's not messed up at all." He turned to Cas. "What the hell good are we anyway, then?"

"Congratulations. It just took you five minutes to figure out what it took the death of my wife and three of our closest friends, to make me see."

Dean frowned, not sure any of them should mess with this one. "Should we maybe call a priest or something?"

"Well, that would be ideal, but without absolute proof, all the church will do is send a priest to bless the house. Unfortunately, all that will serve to do is piss it off and make it even more dangerous." He could see the doubt on Dean's face now, possibly even fear. That was a good thing. Cockiness had its advantages, but not in this case.

"Then what are we even doing?"

"We are going to investigate. We find out what's there. We gather much of what the church requires, try to obtain evidence and be there to support the victims. That's all we can do."

He could see Dean's confidence waver and thought for a minute the guy was gonna tell him that he was going home. Instead Dean turned to Cas, a thoughtful look on his face. "So how do we keep from being possessed ourselves?"

Cas shrugged. "We make sure all our marbles are tied up safe and secure." He smiled at Dean, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "I was wrong about you. You'll be okay."

"Look, I know what you went through was hell. I don't blame you for keeping it a secret, but if you need someone to talk to, you know, a friend, I'm here. You can talk to me."

"What I need, is a team to help me take this bastard out. I appreciate your offer of friendship, but I think it's better if we deal with this case, then go our separate ways."

Dean slammed his hands on the steering wheel, turned the ignition and pulled out of the rest area. "You know what, you're right. Whatever." He pushed a cassette into the radio and turned the volume up.

"Hi. I'm Castiel Novak and this is Dean Winchester." Castiel nodded to Mrs. Monroe, extending his hand to her, but she turned to Dean instead.

Dean extended his hand toward the frail older lady. She accepted it and smiled warmly. "It's lovely to meet you, young man. I've prayed that the lord would send someone to help us." She smelled a little like a mixture of mint and chalk, mingling with the scent of fresh, baked apple pie. It brought Dean fond memories of childhood visits to his surrogate grandparent's house.

Ms. Barbara and Mr. Clint had taken care of them the many times his father had to go away on business. He'd left the boys in their care. Ms. Barbara always had fresh pies cooling on the counter for their stays. Dean took his other hand and placed it over hers. "We'll do everything we can to help you and your husband, ma'am, I promise."

She finally turned and smiled fondly at Cas, motioning them to follow her. She led them into the dining room where her husband was sitting. There was a carafe and four mugs sitting on the table. He briefly looked up to acknowledge them. "They all think we're crazy." He mused as he stood up to pour steaming liquid into the cups. He calmly started adding cream and sugar to the coffee. Two of each in Cas', and two sugars, one cream in Dean's and slid the mugs to them.

Dean and Cas stared at him, carefully taking the offered drinks. "It told me how to make your coffee." He sat back down in his seat and looked between the two of them. "So, now that we've established that I'm not a senile, old man, how do we get rid of this son of a bitch?"

"I wish it were that simple, Mr. Monroe." Cas took a sip of the coffee and nodded. "Perfect… But whether or not we believe you, has no bearing on what we can accomplish here. It's…"

Dean put a hand on Cas' forearm to hush him. "What he means, is that we already believed you before we got here." He looked at Cas and narrowed his eyes. "But we have to figure out exactly what this thing is, before we can decide how to deal with it."

"No offence young man, but I know what this thing is. It's an evil, filthy, abomination and it will kill anyone who tries to stop it."

Mrs. Monroe rolled her eyes and rubbed the old man's back lovingly. "Harold, be a dear and go fetch my jewelry box from the dresser." Mr. Monroe rolled his eyes in a mirror image of hers, but got up with a huff.

"Of course, Dear." The tone was mocking, but the small, barely there smile on his face, made Dean grin from ear to ear.

"Crotchety old coot." She waved her hand to shoo him, then turned to Cas. "Dr. Novak, you told me that you had to do some electronic readings of some sort?"

"Yes, EMF. I need to gather some baseline readings so we can…"

"Yes, yes of course. Well, go along then, I'm gonna borrow your friend and show him my garden." She used the same shooing motion on Cas that she had with her husband. "If it's okay with you, of course."

Dean smirked at Cas' scowl as Mrs. Monroe pulled him up by his elbow and threaded her arm through his. "Well, don't just sit there. Go, do readings. I'll take good care of your handsome young man."

Cas got up and glared at Dean but softened his expression to one of mild annoyance before looking at Mrs. Monroe. "He's all yours. By all means, take him." He got up and opened his case, knowing that the interview would never get done and things were not going to go well.

Mrs. Monroe led Dean away. "Good lord, that man is a lot like my Harold." She laughed and Dean couldn't help thinking what it must be like to grow old with someone, loving them despite flaws or quirks. It was sad that they had to deal with monsters after a life of hard work and freely given love.

He nodded at her. "Cas is crotchety. I agree." He looked back to wink at Cas who was still giving him an incredibly dirty look while pretending to set up equipment. He couldn't hold back a quiet laugh as Mrs. Monroe led him out the back door. Serves his superiority complex right. Intimidating, his ass. Dean smirked at his own inner dialogue.

"You know, the kind like him; they feel so much that they build a dam to hold it all back. And boy, when that dam breaks… look out."

Dean laughed. "I'll be sure to carry an umbrella then." His smile faded and he turned to her. "But really, the guy hates me. I can't seem to do anything right."

She patted his back. "Well, stop trying so hard. You shouldn't have to work for affection. Make him work for it instead."

"Not the first time I've heard that this week."

"Well, then it must be pretty good advice." She entwined his arm in hers again and led him around the corner.

"I doubt he'd work very hard for it, though." He spoke, mostly to himself as he let her lead him. "He'd prefer that I just leave him alone." He looked down as his feet. "That's what I intend to do when we're done here."

"Let me tell you why I wanted you to see my garden." She pulled him along. "I grew up in this house. It belonged to my grandmother. She tried and tried to grow a garden. Every day she'd work out here, weeding and watering. The silly old lady even tried talking to them. The poor thing just couldn't make the magic happen." She wiped a tear from her cheek and smiled.

"After she passed, I inherited the place. In her memory, I had the ground prepared and scattered a few seeds and planted a few bushes and what not." She pointed to a small statue surrounded by rosebushes of every color Dean could imagine. "I set that angel out for her. Gram loved angels, said one day we'd all get a set of wings. Well, I'm not much for yard work, mind you, so I just left it alone. Low and behold, this is what bloomed. It blooms every spring, not a bit of help from me."

Dean looked out over the rows and rows of brightly colored flowers. He had no idea what kind they were, but there had to be hundreds of them of every shade imaginable. It made the backyard look more like a fairytale than a middle class suburban home.

She turned to him and placed her hand over his. "So you see, beautiful things bloom when you least expect it. Sometimes you just have to look away."

He led her to a small bench, nestled between two cherry trees and the two of them sat down. "How did you know? I mean, about me? Am I really that obvious?"

"It's in the way you look at him when he's looking away."

Dean glanced at her suspiciously, an eyebrow raised. "That's it? A look? No secret demonic information involved?"

She smiled and squeezed his hand in hers. "Would you believe me if I said that secret angelic information may be involved?"

He shook his head, still smiling. "No, absolutely not."

Just as a sarcastic remark was about to come out of Dean's mouth, Mr. Monroe came around the corner holding a wooden box. "Didn't mean to interrupt the flower gazing, but here's your jewelry box. Damn thing was underneath a pile of junk." He set it down next to her and walked away without another word.

Mrs. Monroe grinned at him and pulled the box into her lap. She opened it and pulled out a small silver medallion hanging from a thin silver chain. She turned it over in her hand. "This is St. Michael's medal. He's the patron saint of your kind. He'll keep you safe. All you have to do is ask him."

Dean looked down at the piece of jewelry and frowned. "I wore one of those, once upon a time." He traced the medallion with a finger, but drew back. "I stopped believing in its power a long time ago."

"You believe in demons, so by default you must believe in angels. Evil can't exist without goodness. Darkness has no meaning without the existence of light." She reached around him and secured the necklace around his neck.

Dean fingered the small charm. Memories of another life, one he walked away from, flooded his thoughts. "Thank you, but I can't. Cas said we can't wear these kind of things…"

She rolled her eyes and tisked. "Whipped already." She pulled the neckline of his shirt collar out and dropped the necklace below the fabric where it couldn't be seen. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

Dean smiled and nodded, accepting that she wasn't gonna take no for an answer. And she had a point. It wasn't like Cas was gonna do a strip search or anything, not that he'd mind…too much. He smiled even wider at the thought. "Thank you. As much as I hate to, I have to go back in there and help Cas draw the layout of the house, do readings, and other technical stuff he's insisting on. He patted her hand with his free one. "He really is incredibly crotchety."

"Aww, say what you mean; he's a dick."

Dean laughed and stood up, extending his hand to help her up. "Yes ma'am, he is."

She laughed, but eyed him curiously. "If he's such a dick, why do you like him so much? Handsome young man like you could find someone else. Sure he's attractive, but there are plenty of fish in the sea."

"Maybe I'm tired of fishing."

"Or maybe you don't know the answer, so you respond with one-liners." She raised an eyebrow to him.

He narrowed his eyes. "Who are you really, Yoda disguised as a beautiful lady?"

She laughed. "You better mind your compliments, young man. Flirting with old ladies can be dangerous. You run along and do your technical stuff. I think I'm gonna sit out here a while."

"Sure. Do you want me to bring you anything?"

"No. I'm good, but thank you."

Dean smiled and turned to walk back to the house. "Dean." Mrs. Monroe called out to him and he turned back around to see her smiling, the afternoon sun framing her small figure. "You don't really annoy him, but you do scare him a little." She winked and turned back to the small statue and her flowers. Leaving Dean more than a little confused.

"It's about time." Cas stopped packing his gear to look at his watch. "Everything has been done while you were out smelling the flowers."

"You got the layout too?"

Cas put the last piece of equipment into his case and closed it up. "Yes Dean, drawing boxes isn't that difficult."

Once he got everything together, Cas extended a hand to Mr. Monroe. "It was very nice to meet you. We'll return Saturday afternoon with a third person to conduct the actual investigation. Please tell your wife that it was a pleasure to meet her as well."

Mr. Monroe grinned at Cas. "I think she was the one who got the pleasure this afternoon. My Ruthie loves flirting with other people's boyfriends." He winked at Dean who nearly snorted, laughing so hard.

"Excuse me?" Cas glared at the poor old man who seemed incredibly proud of himself. "He is not my boyfriend."

Mr. Monroe put his hands up and forced the smile from his face. "Okay, okay. Settle down, it was just a joke." He shook his head in disapproval. "Damn son, if I have to tell you to loosen up, you must be pretty bad off." He walked away huffing. "and people call me crotchety…"

Cas glared at Dean and pushed him out the door. "I hope you can control your amusement long enough to drive us home."

Dean laughed, pinching Cas' Cheek. "Aww honey, did that mean old man embarrass you?"

He swatted Dean's hand away. "He didn't embarrass me in the least." He walked around to the passenger side of the car and got in.

Dean followed suit, still grinning as he adjusted the mirror. "Dude, you turned three shades of red."

"Yes, anger does have that effect on me."

"Yeah, whatever. I just hope you learned your lesson." Dean wiggled his eyebrows. "See, I told you I could teach you a few things, professor."

"Really? And what lesson do you think you taught me?"

"Just because you find me adorably intimidating, doesn't mean everyone else will."

Cas rolled his eyes. "I don't find you either adorable or intimidating." He raised his eyebrow and stared straight at Dean. "I find you annoying."

Dean smiled, remembering Mrs. Monroe's words. "Whatever, you crotchety old coot." He started the car and turned up the volume on the radio, completely ignoring the life-threatening glare he was receiving from the passenger's side.

Mrs. Monroe walked up to her husband and put her arm around his waist. "They're nice boys, Harold. "This doesn't feel right."

He threw his shoulder around her arm and patted her gently. "I know. But we have no choice."

"Don't we?" She pulled away and looked out the door. "We had a choice. I'm afraid we've made the wrong one."

"It's them or us, Ruthie." He sighed and walked away, his head bowed. "It's them or us…"

About ten minutes passed before Cas finally had enough of the satisfied smirk that seemed to be permanently etched on Dean's face. He reached forward and turned off the radio. "You may think this is funny, but I said we do things my way and you agreed."

Dean shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. "I was doing it your way. It's not my fault that the client didn't want to do it your way."

"There was a list of questions that needed to be answered, Dean. Correctly guessing the amount of cream and sugar to put in coffee does not prove a malevolent entity is present."

"Cut the bullshit and stow the OCD. I'm about at my limit of letting you treat me like some delinquent and I've taken about all the shit I'm gonna take from you." Dean sighed. He didn't want to fight with the guy, but damn if the son of a bitch didn't push every freakin button he had. He took a deep breath. "Look, all those questions were just designed to find out if they have a few screws loose or are on drugs or something, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I got your answers without turning it into an interrogation, which usually only closes people off anyway. You get either nothing or lies."

Cas looked at Dean seriously, for the first time since they'd met. "Okay. So what did you deduce, Sherlock?"

"Mrs. Monroe is the likely target. She's flighty and highly prone to suggestion. And, there's also the possibility of some seriously creepy, psychic crap. She's the weaker link."

"You got all that from her garden?"

"No, you dick. I got all that by listening to her. Maybe if you'd stop pretending to be such a hard ass, you'd have learned something too." He looked at Cas for a split second, expecting a scowl, or dirty look. Instead it looked like Cas was actually interested in what he was saying. Well, that was new. "Look man, these are people. Stop treating them like a science experiment."

"I'm sorry."

"Huh?" If Dean didn't love his car so much, the shock of those two words might have caused him to wreck, right there and then.

"I'm sorry. You're right. But to do this…I need to be as detached as possible." He swiped a hand through his hair and continued, his voice quieter. "You saw what happened last time. I did not walk away from that unscarred. I'm dealing with this the best way I know how. It's another reason I wanted Sam to come instead of you."

"What are you talking about? Sam would have checked out the old lady's garden too. Hell, he'd have probably made flower crowns for their hair or something."

"You're wrong." Cas knew that Dean was more familiar with Sam than he was, but apparently he lacked sufficient self-awareness. "Yes, Sam would have been both kind and polite, it's his nature, but he would have stayed on task. He wouldn't have felt the need to bond with her. Sam can remain professional." He saw the frown come over Dean's features, knowing he was misunderstanding his meaning. "I'm not saying that you a delinquent or unintelligent, far from it, but Sam is more focused on results. Your focus is guided by your heart. It's a distraction."

"Sam is much smarter than me."

Cas nodded. "Sam is more book smart than you, yes. But you are intelligent in other ways. Intelligence isn't measured in math equations alone. But, you're missing my point."

Dean glanced over to Cas again and shrugged. "No, I got your point. I'm just choosing to ignore it, if you don't mind."

Cas huffed, but smiled. "Of course."

"Good. Now that we got that cleared up, just so you can say you've been warned; touch my freaking radio again, and I'll break your damn hand." He reached down and turned the radio back on, lowering the volume considerably. The small grin on Cas' face gave him a hint of hope that maybe they'd finally reached a truce. Either that or the guy was silently planning ways to kill him and dispose of the body before they got home.

AN: Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think. I should have Chapter 6 up in a few days.