When Dean gets back from DC and there are still no cases, he asks Rufus if he and Charlie can go and work for another unit for a few weeks.

"Normal shit, like serial killings and kidnappings and stuff. Nothing supernatural. It'll give us a break. Don't you always say we need breaks and are annoyed when we don't take them? Annie and Ash are working at their other qualified jobs, and Victor and Garth have taken their leave, so are you going to have us sit here and do nothing when we don't have any cases?"

Rufus sighs, looking at the paperwork he still has piled on his desk. Dean would have thought that this would be an excellent time to get rid of it all, but he's beginning to think that the stack of papers are a permanent feature of the desk. "Fine. But one case only. I can't have nobody in the office for an extended period of time. Go and talk to the search and find department, and if they've got something going on, you can join in on that. Take Charlie with you as well, she looks like she's been having too much fun lately."

"Yes sir." Dean replies, holding in a grin. Rufus sees it and rolls his eyes, shooing him out of his office, probably so he can continue completing his endless forms. Dean walks over to Charlie, already thinking about what they could do down on level three. "Rufus said we could go and join the search and find team if they have anything going on right now."

Charlie looks relieved. "Thank God. I've been sitting here playing minesweeper and emailing Lara for the last two hours. Let's go and talk to them." She types a few more words and then sends the email off, probably telling Lara she has some actual work to complete.

In the FBI training course, you usually studied for just one course, the one you were enrolling in and hoped to join when you qualified. But the SPN course couldn't be taught in the open with the other recruits, and attending every class is necessary to pass. There is only one SPN student, if that, every year, so when you enrolled you also took another class. Dean and Charlie had both taken the search and find course, Dean with three other people – Diana Ballard, Kathleen Hudak and Erica Cartwright. The three ladies had taken none of Dean's shit, and had left him with a different outlook on women that had helped when Charlie had joined the team.

Dean and Charlie wander down to the third floor, and talk their way past the secretary. Dean looks around for any of the three people he knows while Charlie explains their predicament to the person who had stopped them. She is probably looking for the leader of the department to see if they had anything open for them.

Standing on his tip toes for a second, Dean thinks he can see the top of Erica's head in a cubicle, and was that Diana walking into another room on a phone?

"Dean?"

Turning, he smiles at Kathleen. She looks stunned, and Dean doesn't blame her. After he had never shown up at the office after their training, she must have assumed that he'd gone on to pursue a different career. And since Dean didn't exactly visit other floors regularly, and stayed back late when he is in the office, there had been a very slim chance that any of the three women had seen him since their training days. Dean is surprised that Kathleen even remembers him.

"Kathleen, hey how you doing?" Dean asks, smiling at the shorter woman. She draws in a breath and crosses her arms.

"So you've been working for the FBI the whole time and you never came down here to say hello?"

Dean pursed his lips. "You would've asked why I wasn't here in the search and find team, and I couldn't have had that. Secret stuff and strained friendships, you know."

Kathleen frowns at him. "So what department are you working in?"

"See, I told you you'd ask. I can't tell, sorry. I just had to take any course in the training, and I chose yours. Seemed easy enough, but I didn't count on the three spitfires I'd have to spend six months with."

"Still, you never thought it'd be nice to come and say hi?"

"I just wanted to have good memories."

Kathleen raises her eyebrows and tilts her head judgmentally. "Memories that are now what, nearly ten years old?"

Wow, has he really been working for the FBI for ten years? "Sounds about right."

Kathleen shakes her head. "You are lucky that I remembered you at all. What are you doing here anyway?"

"We have nothing to do upstairs, so since Charlie and I are both qualified to work here, I asked my boss if we could come and help you for a while. Two of my other teammates are taking their leave, and two more are also helping in different departments, not that Ash limits himself to helping us only. But we're hard up for work, and so we came here. Do you have any cases?"

"You should be talking to the captain about this, not me," Kathleen says. Dean notices that the other man Charlie was talking to is gone, and she's now listening to their exchange. "Lucky for you, she knows you as well."

"No way," Dean says. "Who is it? Diana or Erica?"

"Guess."

Dean pauses. "She's standing behind me, isn't she."

Kathleen nods. "Guess well."

Biting his lip, Dean draws in a breath. "Erica?"

"What, you think I'm not good enough to run this joint?"

Dean turns and Diana's standing there, frowning at him, while Charlie looks like she's trying not to laugh. Dean scowls at her for half a second before putting on his most charming smile for Diana. "I think you're overqualified to run this joint, and that you'd moved on to better things."

Diana sniffs. "Nice save. So you're looking for work, finally, after training with us and then abandoning us?" She starts walking, and Kathleen waves before walking off. Dean and Charlie follow her, and Charlie whispers in his ear.

"How many of them did you sleep with?"

Dean shrugs and breathes back, "Only Erica. If she were the one standing behind me I thought it was best not to say Diana."

She narrows her eyes and shakes her head at him.

Closing the door behind them, Charlie and Dean stand side by side as Diana sits at her desk. "So you're still working for the FBI, somewhere you can't tell us about. You know that sounds like bullcrap?"

"Thirteenth floor, every day when we're not out in the field, I promise."

"I don't know why you'd choose to come down here rather than take a holiday just because you have no work."

"We're used to a lot of work," Charlie interjects. "And we haven't done anything for over a month, so everyone on our team was getting edgy."

Diana knots her hands under her chin and rests her elbows on the desk. "I do have a job that just popped up. I was going to send Kathleen on it, but you two can accompany her. Under her command." Diana adds when Dean opens his mouth. "I know you were all leadership high, but you haven't done anything in ten years."

"Trust me, we have to track down stuff all the time in our jobs." It is one of the main things Dean has to do in his job. Most of the time he tries to get Charlie or Ash to do all the legwork, since research sucks, but he knows how to do it if required.

"Maybe so, but since you can't tell me what your job is, I can't really take your word on that. So do you want it or not?"

Charlie and Dean nod, and before Dean knows what happened, they're in Illinios, tracking down two girls who are somehow travelling along the I-70, running away from their abusive parents. An investigation had been launched into the parents when the kids had disappeared, and both of them were behind bars and facing child abuse charges, but the two girls don't know that.

"So we think the next town they're going to be in is St Louis, right?" Charlie is typing away, probably searching for the bus timetable, and when they're going to get in.

"Yeah, it's the way they were headed, and they'd have to stop there if they continued on the I-70." Kathleen is sitting opposite Charlie, while Dean is sprawled out on the bed.

"So we're here, do we just patrol the bus stations?"

Kathleen shrugs. "I'll ask the local businesses to let us look at their security footage, see if we can see anything."

"Or, I could just get them now, save some time, they don't even know the FBI's here."

Kathleen looks up and looks like she's about to say something, but Dean beats her to it. "Can you put the facial recognition system into your fancy ass computer, see if you can find them that way?"

Charlie sends him a look. "Already done. Give me an hour, and my computer will have searched through every security camera in this town, and the bus stations from the last four."

"Cool. Does that mean we can have a nap?" They had made them fly here, and Dean still hadn't recovered. He hates flying, and Charlie knows that, but Kathleen had looked at him and told him they were flying and that if he didn't want to board the plane he could stay behind. Dean had flown here, but it had been very reluctantly, and he had the dark pleasure of seeing Kathleen's face when he threw up on her. She hadn't been happy, but it had been her fault in the first place for not getting out of Dean's way in time when he had told her he needed to use the bathroom.

"Yes, you can nap, but if you wake me up, I will hit you with something heavy," Charlie's eyes flick to Kathleen for a moment, and Dean gets the message. Kathleen is here, and unless he wants to explain why he's waking up the entire motel he should keep it down.

Dean grunts and puts the pillow over his head. He can hear Charlie and Kathleen moving and talking, but he tunes them out, trying to sleep.

Charlie sighs quietly to herself as Dean pulls a pillow over his head. She had meant what she said – she wants a full night's sleep, and if Dean wakes her with his screaming she would throw something at him. After she had made sure he was alright.

She doesn't begrudge him his tiredness. She knows that he hates flying, even if he was going to be helping kids at the end of it. Kathleen pulls a face at her.

"What do you mean if he wakes you up?" She asks lowly.

Charlie finishes finalising the program on her computer, and looks up at Kathleen. "I mean, that if he wakes me up, I won't be happy."

Kathleen tilts her head slightly. "But why would he wake you up?"

Charlie purses her mouth, looking towards Dean. He's snoring quietly already, a testimony to how tired he is. Even if he once had trusted Kathleen, he hasn't had contact with her in ten years, and that trust would have had to rebuild itself it slowly. Even with just her in the room, Dean had trouble falling asleep. Sometimes she thought he faked it so she wouldn't feel bad for keeping him up.

Deciding that Dean is asleep, she turns to Kathleen. "It means that he has horrible dreams almost every night, and he wakes up screaming sometimes. I was just reminding him that you were here really. He won't make any noise now."

Kathleen looks uneasy, and Charlie can hear the next question before it's spoken.

"What does he dream about?"

"Not just one thing, I think. He isn't really open about it, but our job is worse than most, and that contributes."

"But what do you do for a job?" The dark haired woman asks, looking frustrated.

Charlie shrugs. "Can't tell you. Tip top security, you know."

"Wait… You're not part of the SPN unit, are you?"

Charlie shrugs again. "Can't say anything."

That's as good as confirmation for Kathleen, and she spends the next ten minutes brooding silently. Charlie takes the time to think about Dean and what he dreams about. She knew that most of his dreams are about what went down with Alastair, but he had once told her that he dreams about other things as well. Although in this job, you could pick any day of the week and probably find the stuff of nightmares.

Running a hand through her hair, she bids Kathleen good night. The other woman takes one last look at Dean before leaving.

Charlie locks the door after her and takes her time setting the wards up. She can already see the twitchiness of Dean's eyes and hands, and knows that he's going to wake up soon, so there would be no point of trying to get to sleep. She also knew that there's no point of trying to wake him up either. The one time she had tried, he had her in a choke hold on the floor in less than a second. It had taken nearly a minute to get through to him, and by that time Charlie had been on the edge of fainting from lack of oxygen.

Dean had apologized for days, but Charlie had learned her lesson. Don't touch Dean while he's sleeping.

Sure enough, just as Charlie finishes brushing her teeth and is about to get in bed to let Dean wake her up later, he bolts upright, panting softly. Charlie slowly moves into his plane of vision, and swallows when she sees his eyes tracking her. There's something in them that freaks her out every time she does this, something that isn't human, something that she doesn't blame him for being there. Dean's eyes follow her and then scan the room, looking for any other people and threats that he could find.

Charlie stays in the corner as he gets up and patrols the room, checking the defences that Charlie had laid out half an hour earlier. When he's finished his hand creeps to the tattoo on his chest, and Charlie feels a pull in her chest at what that means. He's checking to make sure that it's not broken and that he's safe from any demon that wanted an in on his meatsuit. Dean probably didn't want her, or anyone else for that matter, to know about the habit, but Charlie sees it sometimes, when he doesn't know that she's looking. She thinks that it says a lot about his character, and what he fears.

While the Dean that she works with might not want her to know, this Dean is different. Just for a minute or so, and she only sees it in certain situations, usually when he's just woken up, he's different. This animal Dean is something else, and Charlie wants to cry at the change that Alastair has worked in him. It can't have been made any better by what happened a few weeks ago when he met with Alastair again.

The look fades form Dean's eyes, and he shakes his head. "Charlie?" He says. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it," Charlie says, making her voice light. "I was just about to go to sleep anyway."

Dean nods, but he doesn't move back to his bed. Charlie can see the sweat that's beginning to dry on his skin, and as he walks back out to the kitchen, she knows that he isn't going to go back to sleep anytime soon.

Charlie sighs sadly before turning down her sheets and climbing in.

Charlie's facial recognition gets a hit, as a camera has captured the girls getting onto a bus headed out of town. They catch the same bus company, and take the time to ask questions and get to the next town as well, Columbia, Missouri. None of the employees have any relevant information, and Dean suppresses his frustration. They'll find the girls in the next city and return them to somewhere where they're safe. Who knows how they're getting money now.

Charlie spends her time on the bus on her computer, accessing the bus company's information to find out how the kids had paid, or if they paid at all. She also looks at the bus that the girls caught and where it was headed so they know where to go next.

"Dean, they have a bank account they're using," Charlie hissed to him across the aisle. "That's how they're paying."

Dean nods. "Good. You put a tracker on it?"

"Of course."

"So we just have to wait. Enjoy the ride Charlie."

Getting out at Columbia, they book a hotel, Kathleen in one room and Charlie and Dean in another. Dean is about to insist that Charlie get some sleep when she speaks up.

"Dean."

"Yeah?" Dean asks. Charlie frowns over her computer. It had been great when they had found out that the kids they're tracking are using a bank account, so they can track where they're at and how they travelled, and the main question, how they got enough money to travel as much as they did. Charlie had tracked their bank number after they had found it, and they had paid for every bus trip so far, and they'd travelled nearly half the span of America. But by the sound of Charlie's voice, she had found something weird.

"I've figured out how they travel, or actually when they get their money."

"When?" Dean asks, standing and going over to Charlie.

"Whenever they're getting low on money, a bump happens in their account, and each time it's either a multiple of 20, 40 or 60 dollars. 40, usually."

Dean tenses, feeling the muscles in his shoulders bunch and tighten. "You said it was a fifteen year old and a nine year old?"

"Yeah, those are the ages."

Dean licks his lips, trying to figure out how to say the next part. "I know how they're getting the cash. It was a system that I used to use."

Charlie sends him a questioning glance, but thankfully doesn't ask any questions. "Where do you think they'll be here then? They must have just got in today, like us." She frowns for a second, fingers typing away on her laptop.

Dean sighs. "Give me all the motels marked on a map in the town, where the bus stop is and where the seediest bars are."

Charlie raises her eyebrows, but a few clicks later Dean is looking over a map of the town marked with everything he asked for.

"What are you looking for?" Charlie asks.

Dean shushes her, eyes moving over the map, marking all the locations and streets, where the different places were and where he thought a fifteen year old girl running from the law might go.

"This one." It's near the bus stop, downhill, and past an ally that held, not the worst, but still pretty bad bar.

"How do you know?" Charlie asks sceptically, squinting her eyes at the map like she could get it to show her the reasoning that Dean used to choose that one.

"Because this girl thinks like me, and that's what I would have done at fifteen years old, taking care of Sam and trying to keep the authorities off our trail."

Charlie looks like she's going to ask what was going on, but Dean is already picking up his jacket and walking out to get Kathleen.

He knocks quickly on Kathleen's door. "Kathleen, I know where they are, or at least one of them, get dressed."

Kathleen opens the door, still in her jeans and shirt, without shoes on. "How?" she asks as she tugs socks and shoes on.

"Charlie figured out what system they were using to get cash."

Kathleen grabs her gun and bag before heading out, following Dean and with Charlie next to her. "We walking?"

"It's not far," Dean says.

It isn't. Ten minutes later, Dean is opening the door to a shady and dirty looking bar, ignoring the memories that are threatening to make a reoccurrence. It's nice to know that the smell of these types of places hasn't changed after fifteen years.

"Charlie, go and chat up the bartender. Kathleen, come with me."

They split, and Dean goes around all the corners of the bar while also watching for movement of someone leaving in a hurry. There was nothing and no one in the corners, but Dean hadn't been expecting there to be.

"I'm going to check the bathrooms. Go and backup Charlie, make sure she's okay talking to these guys."

"Dean, what are we looking for?" Kathleen asks gingerly, looking around and probably wondering why the girls would be here.

"Just go and back up Charlie." Charlie didn't need help, but he wanted to get Kathleen away from when he might find in the bathrooms.

Kathleen waits another second but leaves. The bathrooms are clear, and there's only one more place that he has to check.

"The bartender said he didn't know anything," Charlie says as they walk back over to him.

"He would, you two look like cops. Only more place they could be."

Dean opens the door leading into the alley, and he was right. Alice Richie is on her knees, sucking some greasy looking pudgy guy off. Before he knows what's hit him, Dean's punched him three times, and is handcuffing him.

"You're under arrest for statutory rape and sanctioning the continuance of prostitution. You have the right to remain silent, as all you say can and will be used against you. Kathleen, can you please call the local police department, tell them that they have someone to come and collect."

Kathleen and Charlie have their mouths hanging open, and Dean sees it when Charlie connects the dots. Her eyes widen and then she just looks sad. He passes the guy to Kathleen, who pulls a face before taking out her phone.

Dean goes over to Alice, who is curled up against the wall of the alley and trembling. Dean can see where her bones are poking out, and feels a rush of hate for the people she is running from.

"Hey. I'm Dean, I'm from the FBI. I'm here to help Alice."

"No!" She cries out. "You're going to send us back to them!"

"You don't have to go anywhere you don't want to Alice, and that includes your parents. We just need to know that you and Lucy are okay."

Alice peers up at him. "Promise you won't take us back to them?"

"I promise," Dean says. "You won't have to do this ever again, I promise."

"You don't know what it's like," she whispers.

"I do," Dean begins, but she shakes her head.

"No, you don't! You don't know!"

Dean looks away from the girl for a second before lowering his voice to a whisper. "When my dad would leave me and my brother alone for weeks on end, and we would run out of cash, I would do this as well, I know." Dean tries to grab her eyes, and eventually she looks up.

"Anything to feed her, make sure she doesn't go hungry, that we can keep moving and avoid the police. Guess that didn't work."

Dean swallows. "Yeah, anything to make sure they have food and shelter."

Alice regards him warily for another few seconds. There's the sound of cars pulling up, and Dean vaguely tracks the local police taking the guy from Kathleen and Charlie, and them explaining it.

Dean doesn't try and touch Alice. He knows better than that.

"Alice, where's Lucy?"

Alice looks suspicious again, and Dean waits it out. She licks her lips, and Dean can see how they're bruised and swollen, and knows that she has been working longer than one man.

Shoving down his anger, he smiles slightly at her, and Alice hesitantly smiles back.

"Hey," Dean says. "It's going to be okay."

Alice nods slowly, a tiny movement of her head, but Dean sees it, and thinks that maybe she can trust again, one day.

He wonders if he's got to that point yet.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Charlie tries not to make her voice sounds forceful, but it's hard. She doesn't know what to think anymore, now that she knows…that.

Kathleen bid them goodbye and after they had returned to Phoenix, making sure that they filled out their paperwork before they left.

Dean had immediately walked down to where the Impala had been stored under the building, and he hadn't said anything or acted surprised when Charlie had followed him and sat down in the passenger seat.

Dean had driven silently back to his apartment and had immediately fetched a glass and poured some whiskey into it, downing it with a swallow before topping his glass up again.

He doesn't look surprised when Charlie asks her question either.

"It's not something that I like to tell people," Dean grumbles into his glass. "And I think you'd know why."

Charlie shifts. "I guess." She says eventually.

Dean sighs. "I'm gonna tell you what happened, so that you don't get any ideas, don't make it seem worse than it was."

"Like it could be worse than it sounds," Charlie says flatly.

"Yeah it could be." Dean pauses, and Charlie wonders if he's ever told this story before. He drains his glass, looks at it, and then just grabs the bottle.

"Look my dad kind of sucked at parenting. He brought us up in the life and was always hunting, always had us on the move with him. Sometimes he'd leave us in a hotel with some cash for weeks on end, and he didn't always leave enough. So I'd try to get work, but I was young, and no one would hire me, so I'd steal food and money, but it took time and effort and it wasn't always enough. When I got caught when I was fourteen, Sam had to come and bail me out, and I still have no idea how he did it… Something to do with his puppy eyes, the ladies always fall for that. I realised that stealing just wasn't the best option, and I had another way to earn lots of money, quickly. So if dad left us without enough cash, and we ran out and it looked like he wasn't going to be back for another week or so…" Dean shifts so he's facing away from Charlie, and if that makes him more comfortable with this, then she isn't going to stop him.

"I'd, uh. Prostitute myself." He spits the words out, and Charlie flinches from it. "To get some extra cash. Sam knew, and he didn't like it, tried to stop me going every single damn time, but I wasn't having any of it. He needed food and a roof over his head, and I'd make that happen." Dean takes a long pull out of the bottle he'd taken with him to the couch.

"It only went on for two years or so. Then, I don't know, I mustn't have prepped myself well enough one time, and even though I told the guy to stop, he didn't. I came limping home to Sam dripping blood." Charlie has to fight down her nausea. No wonder Dean didn't want to get it on with a guy. "Fucker didn't even pay me."

"Sam didn't like that, oh no, but I managed to stop him from calling the hospital, or worse, dad. When he came back a week later I could move, but only just. Dad said he had a lead but it was too dangerous to take us along, and that he'd be gone for a while so he'd be dropping us off at Bobby's. Sam was always happy when we spent time there. But this time," Dean shakes his head and stops for a minute.

"This time, before dad had even left, Sam had told Bobby. Must have had enough of seeing me go out and then come back with cash in my pocket and shame on my face, covered in the scent of seedy bars and seedier men. There was a massive blowout," Dean laughs, and it isn't a nice laugh. "Bobby took all of two seconds to ask me if it was true, and I guess my face must have been answer enough for him, because then he and dad were throwing punches and screaming at each other. Turns out that dad knew what I was doing already, and hadn't said anything or done anything about it, not even given us more cash. In fact, I think the bastard gave us less, because he knew I could always get more." Dean runs a hand over his face.

"Bobby said that dad would never see us again, and I think dad thought he was bluffing, because he just peeled out, taking one of Bobby's trucks, he was so mad, leaving us with the Impala. Best thing he did that day," Dean muses, and Charlie watches as he takes another pull of the whiskey. Charlie thinks that maybe John leaving was the best thing he'd done that day.

"Bobby wasn't lying though. Sent us down to the Roadhouse, told Ellen and Bill what had happened. God, you should have seen Ellen. If dad had been there, then there was no chance he'd be walking out alive. They took us in for the next five years. Sam had a proper school, and I had a constant home without having to worry about cash. It was good."

Charlie honestly doesn't know what to say.

"So that's kinda the reason I don't want to hook up with any guys." He lets out a breath, and continues, quieter. "You're always bugging me about why."

Charlie feels terrible.

Dean turns to look at her. "That's… That's not all," he says quietly. He sighs, fiddling with the near empty bottle in his hands, and Charlie wonders what else there could be. "But the rest is none of your business, and it happened years later anyway. Not really connected to that anyway."

Charlie lowers her brows in thought for a few seconds, before she feels like something's punched her in the gut. "Did…" She clears her throat. "Did it have anything to do with Alastair?"

By the way Dean flinches, she doesn't need an answer. She already knows. Jesus Christ.

Dean bites his lip. "I'd appreciate it if you never mention it again. Any of it."

Charlie clears her throat, nodding after a second. She could do that for him.

Her conversation with Dean puts her off for her date with Lara.

Charlie had been looking forward to meeting her after a week away from the other woman. To be able to get to know Lara better over dinner would have been great, and usually Charlie would have been on it like white on rice. But hearing about Dean's past had put her in a weird mood, and Lara picked up on it as soon as she arrives.

"You okay?" She looks concerned, and Charlie takes a deep breath. Lara is too nice for her own good.

"Just some weird stuff at work. Nothing that troubles the security of the nation," she assures the other woman when Lara starts looking worried. "Dean told me some stuff and… Yeah."

Lara doesn't say anything for a second. "You wanna go get ice cream?" She asks.

Charlie blinks. She doesn't know what to think for a moment, before she realises, yes she would like that.

"That sounds great," she says tiredly.

"Cool." Lara smiles at her and grabs her hand, boosting Charlie's mood further. She leads them through the city and past the restaurant they had agreed to eat at, and Charlie feels a moment of regret. Lara is probably hungry, and doesn't want to deal with her problems, and she doesn't even know why she puts up with her. It can't be to get laid, because Lara hasn't made any moves at all, just talking with her. Charlie would say she wants a friend, except that every now and then she'd say something flirty or would grab her hand.

It's making her head spin, and she doesn't get why this beautiful lady would want to be around her.

They'd gone on four dates, if you could call them that, so far. This would have been the fifth, and over that time Charlie had begun to understand Lara a bit. She was inspired to work with computers because her father, Michael, is a genius with them. Charlie studies his work when she wants to learn something new about the machines that she works and lives with.

Her mouth had hung open for a few minutes when Lara had told her that Michael Cassar of all people is her father. Lara had laughed at her expression. Charlie just couldn't believe that out of all people, she would be dating Michael Cassar's daughter. Some things were surreal, even in her line of work.

They'd gone out to eat a few times, and once to play laser tag. It had been one of the most fun nights had had in quite a while, and it had been because of Lara. Charlie liked how the smaller woman would make her relax and have fun, forget about her job and what is really out there.

Lara is smart, cute, funny, and her babbling makes Charlie smile. She's quickly becoming a part of her life that she wants to keep there, and laments not starting to date her sooner. Charlie hopes that Lara wants something long term, because it's what Charlie wanted even before she met her, and now that she knows Lara better, she wants her in her life for a long time.

Lara gets chocolate ice cream and Charlie gets vanilla. They sit at one of the park benches in silence for a few minutes while they eat, and Charlie can feel Lara's eyes on her, probably wondering what Dean had told her to make her this off balance.

They finish their ice cream and Lara starts talking, telling her about the small dog she has at home named Lucy. Charlie smiles as she describes Lucy's exploits, and after Lara had exhausted that topic she talks about how her dad is coming to visit in a few weeks and how Lara is going to have to hide all of her work related computer gear and dodge his questions about what she does. It's inane stuff that means that Charlie can't really contribute anything, just nod along and listen, focus on something else and not have to think, which is exactly what she needs right now.

Lara finally gets her talking when she asks when her next LARPing session is coming up. Charlie takes over the conversation, happy to talk about something that has no connection to her work, the supernatural, or Dean, something that she's passionate about. Lara asks if she can come along, and Charlie tells her excitedly that yes she can, but they'll have to do some shopping for her costume. Lara accepts that, and Charlie thinks that she looks as excited as she is about the upcoming event.

Lara drags her up and they walk around the city for a while, chatting, before they end up in a park. Lara sits on one of the swings and Charlie sits beside her. The start discussing movies, something that Lara doesn't have as much knowledge on but that Charlie is educating her about.

"I can't believe that you've never seen Star Wars!" She exclaims.

Lara shrugs. "It just never came up."

"You'll have to come over and watch it sometime at my place."

Lara raises an eyebrow and Charlie blushes slightly. "I can do that," Lara continues, and the two women smile at each other slightly.

It's nearly midnight by the time Lara says she has to leave. Charlie is used to the long nights but because she works in IT with the computers from the FBI, Lara has to leave at eleven, since that's their cut off hour. That and Charlie doesn't want to keep Lara if it means that she'll be tired in the morning. Maybe later, but not this early in the relationship, or Lara might label her as a bad influence.

"I really needed this Lara. Thanks."

Lara smiles softly at her. "Yeah, I could tell that you were acting weird as soon as you walked in the door, and isn't that weird, because we've only known each other for like a month or so, well I've known you for longer, or at least knew you existed for longer than that, well you get the idea."

Charlie hides a grin and nods. "Yeah, I get what you mean."

Lara rubs her hands together. "I guess I'd better get going then. I'll call you later, okay?"

Charlie nods, and tilts her head slightly when Lara continues to shift her weight from foot to foot nervously. Before she can say anything however, Lara darts forward and leans up, pressing her mouth against Charlie's sweetly.

Lara draws away and grins at her, waving goodbye. Charlie waves back, watching her leave and tasting her on her lips.

Even after going on the search and find mission with Kathleen, they've had no cases, and Dean's been chomping at the bit. The rest of the team are nearly as bad. Charlie's the only one who was coping with it in a healthy way, and Dean doesn't even think that it a healthy way, anyway. She's been spending the last month playing games at work, then leaving early to hang out with Lara, and Rufus can't even tell her to stop because she has no actual work to do. Dean would laugh if he wasn't so bored.

Charlie hasn't changed how she relates to him, and Dean thanks her privately every day for that.

The angels haven't been around at all, and Dean has counted that as a blessing. He's had the last two months to think, and to think about the fact that… he wanted to kiss Cas.

He always knew that he could be attracted to men if he wanted to, but what he went through when he was a teenager… He just always thought that it would come between him and any guy that he found attractive. Charlie knew that he could be into guys if he let himself be, but he hopes that she would back off about it after what went down a few weeks ago. He didn't actively fight against it, he just pretended that it didn't exist. He acknowledged that it existed and then ignored it.

But Cas… along with being in a guy – a guy who is also still there being possessed – is also an angel. A supernatural creature. What the fuck Winchester. You had to pick the most screwed up being to be attracted to. Good job there.

Dean wants to kill something, but he also doesn't want any cases, because having cases meant that Cas would be around. And Dean thought that he wants to avoid Cas, maybe for the rest of forever. Or maybe just another month or so. Except he wants to kill something. Except he needs to avoid Cas. Damn it.

Walking into Rufus' office, he waits until the older man looks up.

"Did you find something? Finally?"

Dean shakes his head. "No. I was wondering if I could head down to the Roadhouse for a few days? You guys will probably be thankful for me to be missing from the office for a week or so."

Rufus looks up at him. "You're right. If I hear you complaining one more time I think I'm going to punch something. Go, then. Bring back some new books from Bobby."

"Does that mean I can take some to Bobby?"

Rufus nods. "He won't let you take any to him if you don't. Take the new translations as well. They'll probably sway him more than the books that we have. He's probably seen them all before."

Thanking his boss, Dean walks out the door to grab the translations from Charlie, and finds Castiel and Balthazar in the room.

Fuck.

They're talking to Ash and Garth, Balthazar managing to look supremely bored as he listens, looking out the window like he'd rather be anywhere else. Walking quietly and hopefully unobtrusively over to Charlie, he asks for a copy of the texts, trying not to draw either of the angel's attention to himself. Charlie gives him a look, like she doesn't buy into any of his crap, but because it was silent and only a look, Dean could successfully ignore it and not seem like a douche.

Dean grabs the copy off Charlie, and turns, only to come face to face with Cas.

"Hello Dean," the angel says, and the normality of the greeting has Dean realising that even as he's been angsting over the angel for the last two months, he's also kind of missed him. But there's something off about Cas, and he seems colder, stiffer, more like he was at the beginning.

Dean is annoyed that he even notices the difference.

Balthazar walks up behind Cas and gives Dean a long hard look. "Well Cassie, I didn't notice that before. You sure it's a good idea?"

Cas looks at Balthazar for a few seconds, and the other angel huffs before disappearing.

"Hey Cas," Dean answers, trying to act normal, which is hard because he just got once overed by Balthazar. What the hell. A small part of him commented that that isn't the angel he wants staring at him. He ignores it. "I'm just heading off to the Roadhouse. There haven't been any cases since you left, and we're all going stir crazy in here. Annie and Ash have qualifications to work in other FBI areas, and they're currently helping other teams if they're out in the field. Charlie and I went to another department for a case, but Rufus wants us here, not travelling all over the country other doing other people's work. Garth and Victor have taken their leave, since they can't exactly when they're in the middle of a case, which leaves Charlie, Rufus, Krissy and I here to guard the office."

Cas tilts his head and Dean tries not to find it attractive. "If you want we can practise flying. You should try to get used to it so that you can be ready as soon as we land."

Dean pulls a face, but he really has no argument against that at all. "Hold these will you?" He asks, giving Cas the few books he had pulled from Charlie's desk as well as his own.

Walking into the library that branched off the main office, Dean started pulling out books that he hadn't shown Bobby yet. Armed with that as well as the files that were on the USB holding all of the translated books, Dean nods, ready to leave.

"Uh, can you take us to Bobby's place then?" Dean asks, peering at the angel. Cas nods sharply and lays a hand on his arm. The sickening twist and pull and weightlessness occurs, and Dean thinks that it's less his body getting used to the feeling, and more his brain. The horrible sensation fades, and Dean waits as his vision clears, swaying slightly, leaning up against the body beside him.

Blinking rapidly, he shakes his head before rubbing his scalp, trying to will the headache he can feel forming away. "That's still pretty fucking weird, Cas."

"It shouldn't take many more trips until you have acclimatised fully," the angel states as he places the books down on the coffee table. Dean looks around for Bobby, going through the kitchen and peering into the study. Just before he's about to walk upstairs, Cas calls out. "Bobby Singer is not in this house. He is in the nearby town, however."

"Okay then. We'll just hang around until he shows up." Dean comes back to the living room, where Cas is still standing in the same position he landed in. "Dude, relax."

Cas looks over, to where Dean has placed himself on the couch. Raising his eyebrows, Dean gestures for the dark haired man to sit down next to him.

Cas does, and then proceeds to his favourite activity – Dean watching. But his eyes are stonier than Dean remembers, and there's something off about them.

Dean lets out a breath and looks straight back. He's had time to think over the last few months. About why Cas was so eager to get him to Alastair, what the whole brand on his arm could mean, as well as the fact that he had wanted to kiss Cas. He had decided to do nothing about that last one. Even if the angel reciprocated, which seems extremely unlikely, there was still the whole vessel issue, as well as the fact that Cas is an angel.

"Me giving permission for you to rummage through my head – was that a one-time thing?" Because he had had nightmares for the last two months, and Cas hadn't appeared again to ask about it, or even appeared at all.

Cas blinks, covering his cold eyes for a moment. "No. I have your consent now. I can calm your mind whenever I wish. I can go no further than your dreams however; the rest of your mind is safe. You may retract the consent if you wish, but that would mean that I cannot calm your sleeping mind, or contact you while you were sleeping."

Dean cocks his head. "Contact me while I'm sleeping?"

"Yes, since I have access to your mind, I can dreamwalk there, and speak to you even if I cannot physically be there." Cas' voice is distant, and Dean wonders if being away from him and humanity in general has reverted him back to his original settings.

"Why wouldn't you be able to be there?" Dean asks, not being able to imagine a scenario where that would be necessary.

Cas looks away, and Dean knows he's not going to be getting an answer to that question.

"Well you can keep your consent, I guess." Cas brightens slightly and Dean had to keep himself from smiling. That would go against the plan of not doing anything.

"I will not abuse it," Cas promises.

"Good." Dean wrings his hands, not entirely sure how to bring up the next subject. "So um, you never explained to me what the whole handprint thing was about. And we're in a private place now."

Cas's face goes still. "Yes, I could see how you would still be curious about that," he concedes. "What would you wish to enquire about?"

"Everything?" Dean asks hesitantly. Cas is still acting weird, solid and motionless. He edges closer to the angel and presses his knee gently against Cas' leg. Cas doesn't move, but he looks down at the place where they touch for a few seconds before answering.

Cas lets out a breath and looks away. "Very well. You probably wonder why no other angel has healed or teleported any of your teammates but I have you." At Dean's nod, he continues. "It is because to perform any act on the body, the soul must consent, completely. I could ask you if you wanted me to heal you, and you could say yes, but your soul would still resist, on the premise that my Grace is foreign."

"You healed me and you didn't ask anything though."

Cas nods, looking crestfallen. "I was just getting to that. However, if an angel implants a tiny piece of their Grace in a human, it shows the soul that we mean no harm, and it lets us do whatever we want with the body."

Dean is gaping, he can feel it, but he doesn't think he can control it. "You put a piece of yourself in me? What the hell Cas?" Dean rips his shirt off to show the angel the handprint. "Is that what this is?"

Cas nods slowly. "Yes, that is where I chose to implant my Grace." He eyes the handprint, and for a second Dean thinks that he's about to reach out and touch it.

Fuck no. "So let me get this straight. You put a piece of yourself in me, so that you could interact with my soul, and you didn't even ask me before doing it."

Cas looks agitated. "You were dying. I did not want to waste the time that I would have needed by asking you and making you understand what it meant. I did not want you to die."

Dean bites his lip and looks away from Cas. The angel had only been trying to save him, and he hadn't exactly been in any condition to answer any soul related questions at the time. As much as it is a breach of his privacy and personal space and his… soul… he had been dying. He had to thank the angel for that. Some of the other angels that Dean knows wouldn't even have thought about doing it.

"It doesn't… affect me in any way, does it?"

Cas shakes his head. "The only thing that it changes is the fact that I can now interact with your soul. I can reach out to it, and it can reach out to me. I broadcast that I mean no harm, and it lets me do whatever I need. Such things are not needed for higher casts of angels, but I rank fairly low on the celestial command. Other angels can also see that you have a piece of Grace inside you."

So that was why Balthazar was staring at me. "Really? I'd think that they'd have someone fairly high ranking to interact with us."

Cas shakes his head. "Most angels perceive humans as far below us. The garrison who was charged to watch over the Earth is the one which they deployed for this mission, and I am only second in command of it."

Dean shrugs, not too bothered over the whole angels-are-above-everything. It wasn't like he hadn't gotten that message from the other angels. "Then who's in charge? Zachariah, right?"

"Anael is in charge of our garrison. Zachariah is the angel she reports to."

Dean rubs a hand over his face. "So who does Zachariah report to?" This is getting complicated.

"Raphael. And Raphael reports to Michael."

Dean widens his eyes. "Wow. Um, okay then. Heavenly chain of command. There has to be more angels in your garrison though, not just five."

"There are others, but only five were needed for this work, and Anael chose angels she knows she can trust."

"Then where are the others?"

"They are completing other tasks on earth." But Cas looks sad all of a sudden, and Dean doesn't ask what other tasks they're completing.

"Right," Dean says, casting around for another topic. "So where were you anyway?" Dean watches as Cas freezes, and thinks that that is not something he should have asked.

"Just performing tasks that my superiors wished me to do," Cas says finally. Dean doesn't push. Cas wouldn't answer anyway, and Dean doesn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"That's a lot of angelic chores."

"Every angel has duties that they must complete, and ones that our superiors give us."

Dean nods. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. But wait," he pauses, looking over at Cas. "What is your mission here? It can't just be to form friendly relationships with the humans. You're the only angel who isn't a dick. Your friends all look liked we've personally insulted them just by existing."

Cas nearly cracks a smile at that, Dean can see it twitching at the corners of his mouth. It sends a wave of happiness through him, that he squashes as soon as he feels it. Don't do anything, don't do anything.

"Some of my brothers dislike completing missions on earth, yes. They prefer the cleanliness and purity of Heaven, instead of being here and feeling the reek that demons leave behind and that humans also make."

"You're saying that we smell." Dean doesn't know where he expected the conversation to go, but it wasn't here.

"Demons smell of sulphur, even you know that. Damned humans have a similar smell, but it is less pungent than a demon's, but there are more humans, so it balances out."

Dean shakes his head. "Whatever you say. Hey, do you want me to make you some coffee? I've got a craving."

Cas shakes his head. "No. I have to leave."

"More angel stuff?" Disappointment winds its way through Dean. Cas hadn't been here for ages, and then he just leaves after an hour or so… It's annoying, but he can't make the angel stay. And he definitely doesn't want the angel to stay. Definitely.

Cas nods. "Yes. More… Angel stuff."

And with that there is the beating of wings and suddenly he's alone.

At Bobby's house. With no transportation. And he hadn't even given Cas the phone that had been burning a hole in his pocket for the last few months.

"Goddamnit," Dean mutters, as he pours coffee into his cup after he makes it.

He hopes Bobby doesn't mind him crashing here for a few days.

A few minutes later, as he walks out to the living room he glances out the window, before pausing and backing up a step to look out it more carefully.

He guards his emotions as he looks at the Impala with his eyebrows lowered.

"Thanks Cas," he mutters quietly, before going to sit on the couch and waiting for his foster-father to get home.

He is confused.

During his re-education, he had confessed nearly everything about Dean. Zachariah had not been happy, but had concluded that it would be suspicious for another angel to take Castiel's place, and that he thought Dean already trusted him, talking about 'mud monkeys' and 'filthy humans'. Castiel had had a hard time not speaking while Zachariah had spouted off about Dean, but he had known that only more punishment would come if he spoke out of turn. Zachariah had also told him that he should not have bonded with the human until he had sought the permission of Michael, since he is Michael's to do with as he willed, but because they could not break it, Zachariah would use it to his own ends, to control Dean. Castiel had vowed quietly to himself that that would never happen, but by the end of his time with Zachariah his will was wavering.

It had been horrible, and Castiel had decided that he would never go through it again. Dean and his beautiful soul just were not worth it.

Of course, as soon as he had laid eyes on the hunter again, he had felt his resolved beginning to crumble. And when Dean had asked where he had been for the last few months… Castiel had nearly told him. He could feel himself leaning into the brush of the hunters soul as it recognised and acknowledged him, and he felt the small glimmer of the piece of Grace that he had left inside the human flutter and wave. He could see the concern that glimmered in the human's eyes, and feel the authenticity of it in his soul.

He doubles over, feeling something start to eat at his Grace, what made him an angel, what made him who he was. He didn't know what the feeling was, just that he was feeling.

They told you not to Fall, but they didn't tell you that Falling hurts.

Castiel had left Dean only because he was confused. Confused by what the human was making him feel, and do, and think. He is confused by why the human would affect him; and most of all, he is confused, because he doesn't understand why his Father would have let this happen. He is an angel. He is not meant to feel. And yet he is.

He is sitting on one of the statues outside a cathedral in Rome, somewhere where he had always felt close to his Father. He is trying to receive revelation, but nothing is coming… Just a blank line, a failed connection. He fears that it is only the start of his Fall.

He can feel it coming, looming just where he couldn't see it. Even though he had been re-educated, even though he had decided to stay away from Dean… He wants to be near the human, always, tell him everything, keep him safe from everything. His superiors would not like that, with the plans that they have for Dean. It sends a thrill of fear through him, to know that soon he would be… disobeying… and telling Dean what his superiors wanted from him. Castiel knew it was inevitable. Angels are not meant to feel, but he knows that right now he is… And after feeling for the first time, Castiel will not go back to blank nothingness, a perfect, nameless, replaceable solider among millions. He felt because of Dean, he feels for Dean, and he knows that he cannot leave the human now.

Disobedience.

He doesn't want to think the word, like that will bring his Fall from Grace faster.

Anael finds him there several days later. He has hidden himself from the Host, but not from her. If she had wanted to find him, then she could have, and now she has.

She must have felt his distress, because she comes up to him and wraps him in her Grace. Castiel shudders and clings to the feeling of another angel, one who would love him even if he went through with his plan.

Anael must have known what had happened to him, must have known what he is thinking of doing.

Castiel, she murmurs quietly. Castiel, listen to me. You do not have to decide anything yet, but you must stay true to yourself. Do what you feel you need to do.

It's a parody of how Castiel had talked Anael down from her Fall, all those years ago.

Castiel wonders what his superiors would do if they knew that Anael was encouraging disobedience.

I cannot let them have him Anael.

I've told you, call me Anna.

Anna… I cannot let them have him.

Anna wraps her wings around him tighter. Castiel can feel her hesitating. I believe that he should make his own choice Castiel. The purpose he would serve would benefit all of the humans, now and forever.

Castiel doesn't say anything for a long time. Anna sits with him as he thinks.

But the price…

Michael would not do something that would have a negative effect on the humans Castiel. He loves them, even as Father commanded.

But he would hurt one? Take one away? Have his soul burned out of existence? Castiel can hear the desperation in his own voice.

Anna pauses before responding. Yes. For the good of many, he would.

Castiel cannot let it happen. He cannot let Michael take Dean for his own purposes.

Anna… I… I don't want it to happen. I can't let it happen.

Then you would take his choice away from him?

He does not understand his choice! Castiel almost yells, his voice ringing out over the courtyard that they are sitting beside, making some of the people wince and look around for the hurtful sound. The reminder that all angels did was hurt humans makes Castiel curl up into a tighter ball.

Then make him understand, Anna whispers to him quietly. Then let him choose.

But… What if he…

What if he chooses to do it? Anna sighs soundlessly. Then you must respect that Castiel. But you have time. Take it. Use it. It should be at least another year before Michael comes to claim him.

There has to be another way, Castiel says, very softly. He doesn't want to Fall. He doesn't want to lose Dean. The human has already made so many changes in the angel in such a short time, and he cannot imagine existing without the soul he is bound to.

Anna doesn't speak again, but she lets Castiel rest on her for as long as he needs to.