Holy crap, this chapter turned out long! I actually didn't plan for all of this, but while writing I suddenly felt that there were a few essential details I couldn't just leave out without making the story seem unrealistic, you'll see what I mean... Hope you all enjoy the continued angel-human bantering between these two ;D Enjoy!

Thank you to Heaven's Eagle for getting around to betaing this even though she is really busy... Love you bunches, girl :P

There were only three possible ways to wake Dean Winchester from a deep sleep.

One was to disturb him so deeply with horrendous nightmares that he would eventually jolt awake in horror. Another was if his pain-in-the-ass brother would keep nagging and pushing him with a stubbornness that only the younger Winchester could maintain, until he had no choice but to drag himself out of bed, grumbling and swearing. And the third was nothing else than a startled shriek or a shocked scream, informing him immediately that a loved one could possibly be in danger.

Such a scream was what woke him on this balmy autumn night in Lisa's bedroom. With reflexes sharp as razors after all of his years of training, Dean found himself shoving his hand beneath his pillow and pulling out his gun while jolting up to a sitting position, resting his finger dangerously on the trigger all before the thought had even fully formed in his sleep-clouded mind.

He felt Lisa breathe heavily in shock next to him, yet he couldn't make out any immediate danger in the darkness around them.

"Dean"- Lisa gasped.

"What is it?" Dean asked, still reluctant to put his gun back down. "What happened?"

"A-a man!" Lisa stammered, sounding evidently freaked out. "A man was standing there, just now!"

Dean flinched when she switched on the light on her nightstand, but was at least relieved to see that there was indeed nothing bloodthirsty there waiting to pounce on them.

"H-he…" Lisa shivered, clearly confused. "He was watching us…"

"Where?" Dean asked calmly, lowering his gun back down to his knees.

"There!" Lisa pointed over to the closet, her outstretched hand trembling. "I, I swear he was there, I looked up and I saw him watching and, and…"

"Hey, easy," Dean soothed putting his hand on hers. "What did he look like?"

"I…" With every passing second Lisa seemed to be less sure of herself. "I'm not sure, I didn't see…"

Dean looked around the room and strained his ears to listen for any sounds in the house, but everything was quiet. Perhaps she had been imagining things?

"I think he was wearing a trench coat…" Lisa murmured uncertainly.

Dean gaped at her for a moment, his bleary mind working a bit slower than usual until understanding finally sunk in. The fucking idiot! What had he been thinking, just appearing in their bedroom and giving the poor woman a heart attack?

"You think I'm crazy," Lisa murmured at his dumbfounded expression.

"Lis, come on!" Dean instantly responded. "Do you really think I'd be the type of guy to label you crazy?"

Lisa chuckled. "Right, yeah, maybe not."

Dean gazed around the room once more, just to be sure, while straining to hear if there were sounds coming from downstairs.

"I don't hear anything…" he said uncertainly. "You want me to go and check or…?"

"No, no, I guess it was probably just a nightmare…" she murmured, her brow furrowing in a confused frown. "One hell of a weird nightmare, I'll add."

Dean gave her a small smile, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and squeezing her slightly. "Yeah, I know the feeling." Lisa smiled back and briefly leaned her head on his shoulder, sighing tiredly.

"Sorry, I woke you," she murmured. "We should probably go back to sleep…"

"Yeah," Dean agreed while she moved to settle back down on her pillow. "I'm gonna go grab a drink real quick, ok? I'll be right up, just sleep…"

Lisa's affirmative response was half-stifled by a tired yawn as she nestled back into the covers. Dean quickly left the room and headed for the stairs, careful not to make too much noise so he wouldn't wake Ben.

He descended the stairs and hurried into the living room, all the while turning around himself to canvas his surroundings, although he wasn't really sure what he was looking for.

"Cas?" he whispered unsurely, though annoyance was already making its way into his voice.

"Hello, Dean," came the quiet response moments later.

Dean whipped around to see the dark-haired angel standing on the other side of the room, illuminated only by the moonlight coming through the windows and therefore casting dark shadows in the already gloomy room.

"Cas!" Dean exclaimed, though never raising his voice above an angry whisper. "What the fuck was that? The hell did you appear in our bedroom for?"

"I needed to talk to you," Castiel responded, his face showing no sign whatsoever of any bashfulness about the intimate setting he had chosen to appear in.

"Yeah, that's great!" Dean said sarcastically. "You couldn't have figured out any other way to do that?"

Castiel sighed in frustration, turning his head to the side. "I didn't see the need for it, Dean, this"-

"Didn't see the need for it? God, you frickin' angels man, you scared Lisa to death!" Dean growled. He was finding it hard to not let his voice rise above whispering level. "You couldn't have just appeared in my dream or something? You guys do that, don't you?"

"Too dangerous, someone could be listening," Cas said curtly. "Dean, I"-

"Well, what about"-

"Dean!" Castiel hissed, shutting the hunter up with a sudden authoritative voice. "This is urgent!"

Dean stared at him for a moment, trying to read the angel's uneasy expression.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I…" Cas hesitated for a short moment, looking right and left as if to assure himself that they were completely alone before stepping closer to him. "I learned something that might help us."

Dean blinked in surprise; he had not been expecting that at all. For a moment he didn't exactly know how to react, because he had honestly been preparing himself for more bad news and now that he had a chance at positive he wasn't sure if he should trust it. Positive seldom happened to him. Scratch that, positive almost never happened to him.

"What?" he whispered.

"Something that might help us stop Raphael," Cas responded and Dean instantly noticed the level of excitement that shone in his eyes. It seemed to be the first time in a long while that the angel had snapped out of his defeated state and actually had hope for something. Dean wished he could do the same.

"Great, which would be?" Dean kept on pressing, still skeptical. He was not gonna get his hopes up until he was sure this was something solid. Not another Crowley-type deal or anything.

"Some weapons have disappeared from heaven," he explained. "Powerful weapons, Dean."

"Weapons?" the hunter repeated, frowning at his friend. "You guys have weapons now?"

"Yes," Castiel nodded.

Great. Like all those fucking superpowers weren't enough!

"Ok," Dean carried on. "And you think those are strong enough to knock our teenage mutant ninja angel down a few notches?"

Cas canted his head slightly sideways, immediately giving the impression that he had no idea what Dean had just said. "They are very powerful, yes," he then decided. "They may give us an advantage."

"Emphasis on may," Dean snorted.

When Castiel didn't respond, the hunter sighed loudly before speaking again. "Ok, so how do we find them?"

"I've been searching for a few days now," Cas said. "And I believe I'm close to locating one!"

"Oh," Dean responded, trying not to seem too taken aback at the fact that Cas hadn't even informed him before he started searching. "Ok, so what do you need me for, then?"

Castiel hesitated again, suddenly looking awfully guilt-stricken. Dean noticed with a hint at amusement that he was biting his lower lip, as if he was feeling conflicted about something. He always found it hilarious how hopelessly childlike the angel seemed when adapting to human mannerisms.

"I need your help," Castiel whispered finally, though the words were spoken somewhat reluctant. "This might involve… talking to people." He shifted uneasily on the spot. "I believe we both agree that this is not a strength of mine."

Dean chuckled darkly. "No, absolutely not!"

Cas looked at him with pleading, blue eyes. "Will you come with me?"

"Huh?" Dean stared at him for a moment, feeling dumbfounded. "What, like now? You want me to just take off in the middle of the night?"

"There is no time to lose," the angel insisted. "The longer we wait, the sooner someone else will find out, the sooner Raphael's angels will be led to the weapon and then we'll have no chance at all"-

"Ok, all right, all right, I get it!" Dean grumbled reluctantly. He silently stood on the spot for a moment, staring intently at the ground before finally letting out a grunt of frustration. "Fuck, ok!"

"All right," Castiel agreed and started moving forward, bringing two of his fingers up before him.

"Whoa, whoa, hey, no zapping!" Dean immediately protested. "You know I hate that shit!"

Cas let out an exasperated sigh. "Dean, we don't have time for"-

"Hey, you dragged me out of bed in the middle of the night!" Dean defended his point grimly. "I'm coming with you, I make the rules!"

Castiel let his hand fall to his side in defeat, though rolling his eyes in the process. Another human gesture that now suddenly seemed so normal for him. Dean lifted his finger to once more prove his point.

"No zapping!" he ordered.

. . .

The Impala's engine purred in satisfaction, as Dean pushed her down the dark and lonely highway. It was the second time this week that he had freed her from her permanent lockdown space in Lisa's garage and after how it had went the first time, he wasn't so sure if this was really a good idea.

However if he was going hunting, he needed to do it right. Only his baby was right for hunting and he knew that she had missed it; that they both had missed it. Already there was something distinctly familiar about the way he was cruising the streets in his awesome car, on his way to a hunt, even if there was a different person riding shotgun then he was used to. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he thought he noticed that Cas felt more comfortable in the Impala too then he had been the few times he had sat in Lisa's car. It was a more familiar surrounding to both of them.

"So let me get this straight," Dean said, trying to understand what Cas had just explained to him. "You're saying that your nukes are loose?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid so," Castiel responded sadly.

"How could that even happen?" Dean wanted to know. "I mean, don't you guys put away your toys?"

"I don't know." The angel sighed and he sounded so unbelievably tired. "This is… new to us as well. Before the apocalypse, heaven may have been corrupt, but it was always stable. The weapons were safely contained. But it's been… chaos up there since the war ended." His voice sounded so grave that Dean immediately felt a pang of guilt for pushing so harshly. He could just never keep his big mouth shut. "Raphael is obviously trying to restore order, but… in that confusion a number of powerful weapons were… stolen."

"Stolen?" Dean frowned. "So wait, you think another angel got his hands on them? Or could anyone else have gotten into the Halo ranks?"

"Yes, it is most likely another angel… Though I don't know who," Cas responded, his furrowed brow giving the impression that his lack of knowledge bugged him. "Apart from me, hardly any of my brothers would go so openly against heaven…"

He hesitated for a moment, evidently still trying to figure out the unusual angel's identity. "Maybe whoever it is will help us."

"Hm," Dean grunted, making it clear that he wasn't sharing Cas' optimism. "Or you know, he's just in it for himself… Taking the goodies and running."

Castiel's bewildered and disapproving gaze made the hunter's chuckle die in his throat. It was so weird, Dean thought, that on one side Cas kept preaching for free will but on the other hand still was as weirded out by the concept of an angel being selfish as the rest of them were. Walking contradictions, all of them.

Well, he was one to talk.

"So how do you even know about all this?" Dean decided to change the subject. "I mean, not like you can just poke your head through the gates and see what's going on up there, right?"

Cas seemed to be relieved to be able to talk about something else and not have to suss out his own doubts. "Rachel," he anwered. "My lieutenant. She is informing me about heaven's objectives."

"Wow, lieutenant." So Cas wasn't alone in this anymore, he now had help on the inside. Dean briefly frowned, wondering what else was new that the angel hadn't told him about yet. "You sure you can trust her?"

"With my life," Castiel immediately responded. "She is the most loyal creature I could wish for." Despite his adamant words, the hunter thought he recognized an uncomfortable undertone to the angel's voice.

"So she's on your side now?" Dean asked.

"Yes, along with a part of my old garrison," Castiel explained. "And we hope to convince more of our cause… If we can achieve some form of advantage, then we might even have a chance."

And with those words Dean suddenly understood why the angel was no longer as crestfallen as he had been in their last few encounters. Up until then he had been alone, hunted and running, with no idea whatsoever what to do, but now for the first time he had gotten some support from his fellow feather-buddies and had somewhat of a strategy in sight. Who would've thought, but it seemed as if a plan C was actually starting to form.

The fact that this seemed to give Cas more hope served to lighten his mood too, the hunter soon realized. Ever since his near breakdown a few days ago he had felt himself constantly being on the edge, every single moment. He had managed to pull himself together and be something he was hoping resembled cheerful for Lisa and Ben, but in the moments that he was alone it took all his efforts to not return to that same place he had been that night with his baby and he was finding it very exhausting to keep that up. All the more reason to get on this lead right now.

"Ok, and you said you found one of these weapons already," Dean tried to remember what Cas had told him at the house. "What is it?"

"I believe it may be the staff of Moses," Castiel responded matter-of-factly.

Dean stared at him from the side, as much as was possible while still keeping the car under control. "Seriously?"

"Yes, it was used in a dominance display against the Egyptians, as I recall," the angel proceeded to explain, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Sometimes Dean forgot how fucking old Cas was.

"Yeah," Dean scoffed. "That one made the papers."

It was only a few hours drive from Lisa's place to the town where Castiel presumed the heavenly weapon to be. The two of them arrived there still in the middle of the night, so the town was mostly quiet with only few lights still on in the various buildings. It was a hell of a weird time to start out on a case, but Dean figured the quicker he got this behind him the better. The longer he was gone, the harder it would be to explain this whole thing to Lisa.

Soon after they had entered the town Dean turned to the angel. "All right, what's our lead?" he asked. "Why do you think Chuck Heston's disco stick is here?"

"A man was killed by Locusts," Castiel explained. "I heard a rumor during my search and came by to confirm it."

"Yeah, that does sound weird…" Dean agreed, automatically picturing the image before him. "But you're sure that it's the stick and not some bug thing? Cause trust me, bugs, they can get pretty nasty too."

"Well, when I examined the body there was more to it than just that," Cas remarked thoughtfully.

Dean nodded, directing his baby to the center of town to find the police station and the morgue. "All right, then," he said. "Let's have a look at the body."

Castiel seemed confused. "Why? I told you, I have already examined it."

"Ah, come on, Cas!" Dean sighed in annoyance. "You want my help we're gonna have to do it my way, ok? I need to get a feel for the case, man!"

The angel seemed frustrated at the additional loss of time, but leaned back in his seat and said nothing further.

It took Dean about ten minutes to locate the police station, during which the silence in the car hovered on. The hunter had a feeling that Castiel was a bit pissed over having to move so slowly with him, but what the hell was he supposed to do? He was only human.

Having parked his baby next to the station Dean stepped out onto the sidewalk and waited for the sour angel to join him. He didn't have his usual FBI-suit at his disposal but he figured that made no difference since there was no one awake to fool anyway. His street clothes would work just fine for breaking and entering.

When Castiel had finally joined him on the sidewalk, Dean started walking toward the entrance and rummaged around in his pocked.

"Ok, let me just get my lock-pick"-

He was cut off by the insanely short sensation of being whipped through the air at 500 miles per hour and suddenly found himself standing in the dark interior of a morgue.

"What the"-

Cas casually lifted his hand off of the hunter's shoulder and stepped past him toward the big wall of drawers.

"Son of a bitch, man, what the hell was that?" Dean instantly growled. "I said no zapping!"

"Our agreement was only for the journey," Castiel remarked indifferently, standing still for a moment to study the various drawers. "Besides, this is faster and more practical. Leaves no signs of a break-in…"

"That's…" Dean angrily lifted his finger to retort something. "That's – ok, that's true, but – you could've at least asked!"

Castiel ignored Dean's ambivalent ranting and decided on a drawer, pulling it out with one swift movement of his arm. "This is him."

Dean stopped talking at once, all anger at the angel forgotten once he looked upon the hideous and blemished corpse. "Whoa, what the…" He moved closer to inspect the man's body more carefully, but it was difficult to make out single details among everything that was just wrong.

It was hard to see the guy's face beneath the thick layer of huge boils that covered him everywhere, some of them already cracked, some dangerously yellow. There were gruesome holes scattered across several parts of his body, all looking like something had chewed its way out of the man from the inside. His matted hair was soaked in blood and his features were largely distorted. Beside all that, his whole body seemed to have a somewhat… jelly-like quality – Dean couldn't decide on a better word – as if he was dissolving slowly into the blood that was pooling around him on the long silver plain.

"Ew," was the first word the hunter decided on. He had seen some pretty icky stuff in his time, so he wasn't grossed out easily, but this… This was just all manner of wrong.

"He did not look like this last time," Castiel remarked, frowning slightly.

"What, you mean he was less of a pudding last time?" Dean asked dryly, moving around the body carefully as if any sudden movement could bring it to cave in.

"He was… more solid," Castiel said uncertainly, probing the dead man with his finger. "It appears that his form is slowly decaying." Without any warning for Dean, the angel lifted his bloody finger up to his mouth and placed it against his tongue.

Dean let out a noise of displeasure. "God, Cas, would you not frickin' taste the dead guy, please?" he exclaimed in disgust, trying to wipe the image from his mind.

Cas frowned again, looking at his now clean finger as if he were contemplating the taste or something. It was all Dean could do not to gag.

"It's worse than I thought," Castiel then said.

"Ya think?" Dean snorted.

"He is dissolving…" Cas murmured, ignoring Dean's comment. "By the looks of it into his own blood. This was more than just locusts."

"What, more than one plague you mean?" the hunter asked, confusion slowly substituting disgust on his face.

"Yes, I believe so," Castiel responded, letting his hands hover slightly over the various distortions on the man's body. "Boils… Wounds from locusts" – he loosely waved toward one of the holes –"and blood."

"Wow," Dean chuckled humorlessly. "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say someone really didn't like this guy."

Cas didn't respond, apparently still studying the different trademarks on the corpse.

"But wait, why is just one dude here turning into blood?" it suddenly occurred to Dean. "I mean, in the story, isn't it like a whole river?"

Castiel nodded in agreement, stepping back from the body and meeting the hunter's eyes. "The weapon isn't being used at full capacity," he said. "I think we can rule Moses out as a suspect."

The words were spoken in such earnest that Dean gaped at the angel for a full minute before having to stifle his laughter. It was hard not to break out laughing over how completely serious Cas was being and how ridiculous his words sounded. But knowing that this would probably hurt the guy's feelings, Dean suppressed his urges as best he could.

"O-ok… So we've got three plagues on the same guy. Whoever did this, I can tell you they were extremely pissed," he then said.

"Yes, but… how do we find out who it was?" Cas wanted to know.

The computers at the police station were located fairly quickly. Dean thought that they were easy enough to handle, though he did have a few issues with the password safety for the servers.

"Damn it," he swore under his breath. "Sammy was always so good at this shit!"

Don't go there.

"Is this gonna take very long?" Castiel asked, waiting impatiently on the side. With a sigh of annoyance and a very irritated glance at the angel, Dean got back to work.

It really was a bitch that he had always let Sammy handle the computer work. At the time it had made sense, each of them taking over the part that they did best – and in his case mostly letting Sammy do the work while he leaned back. But he now wished that he had more practice, it would've gone a hell of a lot faster to break into the system.

After a while though the little experience that he had paid off and he managed to get on the police server.

"All right," he said with a victorious grin. "Told you it would work!"

He paid no attention to Cas' sigh (having the same effect as if he'd actually used the word finally) and worked himself through to the open case files. "Let's see who this guy is, shall we?"

The angel stepped over from the side and looked at the screen over his shoulder. "Here he is," Dean murmured. "Kevin Hayes. Wow. Dude doesn't look too bad without all the…" He waved his finger loosely across his face to indicate all the marks on the body.

"Are there any suspects?" Cas wanted to know.

Dean briefly scrolled through the file. "Um… doesn't really look like they know what's going on… Nope." Going through the victim's rap sheet however, he spotted some more information. "Whoa, looks like this dude had quite a record… Assault, theft, restraining orders…"

Castiel took another step forward to lean down to the monitor next to him. "Do you think someone wanted revenge?"

"Could be," Dean nodded. "Most recent charges filed were… by this girl here. Monica Saunders." He quickly went over the entry to see if there was any more information. "Doesn't say what happened, but… Oh. She withdrew the charges…"

He turned his head to the side to give Cas a triumphant smile, "…one day before he died."

The angel frowned in confusion. "I don't understand," he said, evidently unsure of what to make of the information.

"Come on, man, it's like she knew what was gonna happen!" Dean insisted confidently. "That or she's the one who did it. Either way… Think we need to have a talk with Miss Saunders here."

Castiel nodded in silent agreement, endorsing Dean's logic. "Does it say where she lives?"

"Uh…" Dean went back to looking at the file. "Yeah, address is 21 Elm's Street"-

Before he could protest, he again felt the firm grip of Cas' hand on his shoulder, the millisecond of momentum and then he was standing inside a dark room, his eyes too confused by the darkness to recognize any further details.

"Cas!" he exclaimed after a roar of frustration. "God, would you quit doing that?"

"Dean, I suggest you lower your voice," Castiel murmured, ignoring Dean's anger once again.

"Why, wh"-

Dean looked around at the room they were in, feeling his eyes slowly getting used to the darkness. "What the hell?"

The first thing he spotted was the silhouette of the couch, along with the TV at the other end of the room and the coffee table beside them. "Her living room?" He instantly tried to lower his voice, though it wasn't easily done feeling as dumbstruck as he did. "You zapped us into her fucking house?"

"We need to move fast, Dean," Cas said sternly.

Dean stared at him for a moment before throwing his arms up in frustration. "Her living room! That is not cool, Cas!"

Before the angel had a chance to respond, they were both silenced by a clattering noise from a room to their left. Crap, Dean instantly thought. So much for lowering their voices. The girl was probably already up and suspected a break-in.

He quickly moved toward the door, his ears straining to make out any other sounds. Castiel was silent as a grave behind him, his blue eyes focused intently on the entrance to the room. A few more cautious steps and Dean thought he could make out the faintest hints of rapid breathing, an awful indicator for the fear they were probably inducing.

When he was but one step away from the door, the hunter started to reach out to cautiously push it open, but before he could do so, there was a sudden bang, a flash of dark long hair and a big, heavy clump of something raised up into the air. Dean instinctively ducked and only barely avoided being stricken to the ground by the terrified woman, raising his hands in the process.

"Whoa, whoa, hey!" he yelled, instantly jumping back a few steps.

"Who the hell are you?" the woman screamed, her voice ringing simultaneously from anger and fear. "What are you doing in my apartment?" She was holding an empty vase above her head, holding it at the ready to lash out again should he come too close. Her dark hair was tousled from sleep and she was dressed in only a tank top and a pair of comfortable shorts.

Great fucking job, Cas, Dean thought angrily to himself, trying to figure out a way to diffuse the situation.

"It's not what it looks like!" Dean tried to explain, knowing how ridiculous those particular words sounded.

"I'm not afraid to use this!" the girl nodded toward the vase she was still holding. "Get out right now or I'm calling the police!"

"I am the police," Dean instantly said, producing his fake badge from his pocket and holding it up. "FBI."

The girl stared at him for a moment, but made no move to back down. "I don't care who the fuck you are, you can't just waltz in here in the middle of the night!" Dean noticed that her voice was trembling and he felt so horribly guilty for having scared her so much. But that was of course only if she wasn't responsible for the frickin' staff-death.

"Monica – it's Monica, right? Calm down, we just wanna talk to you," he said in a stern, yet comforting voice, trying to achieve his best Sammy-imitation of big, compassionate eyes.

"And what the hell is so important that it couldn't wait 'til morning?" the girl hissed, her expression still hostile, but her posture slightly more relaxed.

Before Dean had a chance to speak, he heard Castiel's gruff voice behind him. "The staff of Moses."

The woman, Monica Saunders stared at him for a few seconds as if debating whether or not he was crazy. "What?"

Dean turned around to give the angel an irritated look, his eyes expressing what he was thinking. Real fucking smooth! Cas brows furrowed in confusion as if he couldn't tell what he had just done wrong. This was the reason he had brought Dean along after all, because he sucked at talking.

"Nothing," Dean said, turning back to Monica. "No big deal, we just need to ask you a few questions about Kevin Hayes."

The change on the girl's face was drastic. Her eyes instantly narrowed, an eerie darkness creeping into them while her whole body tensed, her posture again turning defensive. Her face closed off into a cold expression, though her lips trembled slightly and beneath all the raw dislike there was one other emotion shining distinctly from her gaze: fear. All this lead Dean to believe that she undoubtedly had something to do with this.

"What about him?" she asked, trying to hide the unsteadiness in her voice as she put the vase down onto a shelf next to her.

"You know he's dead, right?" Dean started out cautiously. "Sudden, freaky death?"

Monica shrugged, pretending to be indifferent. "Yeah, so?"

"So… we know you filed charges against him," he went on, watching her closely for any kind of reaction.

To his surprise this triggered an exasperated sigh from the woman. "Yeah, sure, now that he's dead everyone suddenly cares about that!" she exclaimed angrily. "I answered all this shit for the police already, now I have to go through it again?"

"Well, see, what I find interesting… is that you withdrew the charges a day before he was wasted," Dean said dangerously. "Doesn't that strike you as weird?"

She stared at him, seeming completely dumbfounded. "What, you're saying I had something to do with this?" she asked in disbelief.

"Oh, I know you did," Dean responded harshly. He could almost feel Cas staring daggers at the woman from behind him. She opened her mouth to answer him, but he cut her off. "Monica, I saw what he looked like. His face… really brings out the freaky in my job description. So I know you must've been really pissed at him. What did he do to you?"

She continued staring at him, as if contemplating her answer. "You're crazy!" she finally hissed. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

Dean looked in her eyes for just a moment before softly shaking his head. "You're lying." She suddenly looked so unbelievably vulnerable. "What did he do?"

Monica looked at him through big, brown eyes before dropping her head to look down at her feet, clasping her arms around her upper body as a makeshift protection.

After a few minutes of silence, she finally looked up at the hunter again and her voice was nothing more than a broken whisper. "He raped me, ok?"

All Dean could do for a long moment was stare at her, words failing to come to his mind. She looked so unbelievably hurt and young in that moment that he wanted nothing more than to punch the fucking asshole in the face, jelly-texture or not. "Son of a bitch," he murmured.

Monica shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. "I… I was walking home and… I-I knew him from the store I work at, he'd always come in and… watch me," she shook her head slightly, as if trying to get rid of the images. "I tried to press charges, but the cops just… I don't know. They don't like cases that are hard to prove."

"I'm sorry," was all Dean could say.

"But you did do something…" Cas said slowly, joining the conversation at Dean's side. "You took your revenge."

Monica seemed incredibly disturbed at the word, for she looked up at the angel in fear. "I-I…" her voice seemed only moments away from tears. "I didn't mean to… I was just, I felt so alone and so… he told me he could help."

"He?" Dean asked, now returning to the task at hand, finding the guy who had given her the weapon.

"I was just walking through the park and he… this guy came up to me and… and he just knew. It freaked me out, I wanted to run, but h-he…" Monica's voice started shaking more and more the further along she got with her story. "He told me I could have justice, that I could make him pay myself. I thought he was crazy at first, but the things he said…"

"And he gave you the weapon?" Castiel wanted to know.

Monica nodded numbly. "Yes," she whispered. "I came home and I threw it away, because I… I thought I was going insane, I knew I was insane cause who believes something like that?" She chuckled humorlessly as a single tear softly ran down her cheek. "But then I… I had another nightmare and I was so scared and so angry that I just- I just…"

Dean and Cas shared a silent gaze while she clamped a hand in front of her mouth to stop herself from sobbing. "I swear," she begged them. "I had no idea it was gonna work!"

"And that's when you withdrew the charges?" Dean asked quietly, not wanting to do anything more to freak her out.

She nodded silently.

"It's not your fault," Dean murmured softly. He had no idea where this sudden need to comfort her had come from, he just knew he needed to do it. "The dick definitely deserved it."

She looked at him curiously and he wasn't sure if she had believed him or not.

"Do you still have the staff?" Castiel asked urgently. Monica wordlessly pointed over to the other end of the room where there was a trashcan in the corner. Evidently too impatient to act human after their slow journey Cas zapped himself across the room, producing a shocked gasp from the girl in the process.

Dean quickly tried to think of something to say to not have her freak out, but before something came to mind Castiel was at his side again, holding a small stick in his hands.

"This is the staff of Moses?" Dean asked, incredulity sitting sharply in his voice.

"Just a piece of it," Cas responded. "It seemed whoever did this broke up the original staff into several small pieces."

"He broke up the staff?" Dean repeated. "Can he do that?"

Castiel shrugged. "More pieces more product. It gives him more to sell."

At the word sell Dean was instantly reminded of another issue still left unsolved. He turned back to the startled girl, who was still watching the angel closely, as if she was expecting him to repeat his little stunt at any given time.

"Monica… what did the guy want for the stick?"

Monica blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Come on," Dean urged her. "He didn't just give you the stick."

"No," the woman shook her head. "He sold it to me."

Dean frowned in confusion. "Sold it?" he wondered. "Like money? What did you give him?"

Monica stared at the ground again, too ashamed to meet his eyes. "My soul."

The hunter felt a cold shiver run down his spine at the word, being as familiar with the situation as he was. It was also very surprising though, cause since when did angels want souls? Demons sure, Crowley even wanted a butt load like Purgatory to build up his power machine, but angels? Maybe it was that same thing Cas had mentioned when they had talked about the deal with Crowley. The power that a human soul held.

Dean turned questioning eyes toward the angel. "You ever heard of an angel rounding up souls?"

"Not until now," Castiel murmured, brow furrowed in deep thought. "But it is possible. Especially with all the chaos that broke out in heaven."

"Angels? Heaven?" Monica repeated their words, looking at them as if they had gone completely nuts. "Who the hell are you people?" She stared at Dean accusingly. "You're not FBI, are you?"

Dean looked at her for a moment, contemplating on whether he should lie to her or not. She had already been through enough, but then again, what would it help him if he dwelled on this matter? He didn't have the time right now.

"Monica, do you remember where you met this guy?" he asked her.

"Uh…" Her gaze was still wary and he knew that she didn't trust him. "Up in the park… near the South mansion."

"You're sure?" Cas wanted to know.

Monica shot him a murderous glare. "Yes, of course I'm sure! I've seen him talking to other people there too. I just… I didn't think anything by it, I mean who believes that crap?"

She looked so helpless that Dean instantly felt sorry for her again, especially since there was nothing more that he could do. Well, maybe he could at least try to get the poor girl's soul back.

"I know," Dean said softly. "It's not your fault."

Monica looked like she still wanted to say something, but the words would not cross her lips.

"I'm sorry," Cas murmured, sounding a bit less strict than his usual self.

Before either of them could say anything else, Dean again felt the grip on his shoulder, the flash of momentum and he knew that the angel had zapped them once more, leaving the upset and trembling young woman alone in her apartment.