The Third Man Part 1

Birds were chirping as morning light flooded into a bedroom window. Dean was sleeping. Lisa wakened next to him.

"Hey, you." Lisa smiled.

"Hey," Dean mumbled sleepily.

A light peck became a long and passionate kiss. Dean was distracted by the sound of a heartbeat. A horn blared, and Dean woke up from his dream. Angela sat next to him in the Impala, parked just off a busy highway.

"Mornin' sleeping beauty," Angela said as she paged through a book.

~/~\~

Sam was inside the motel room, shirtless, working through a fitness routine of push-ups and sit-ups.

~/~\~

"Morning," Dean grumbled as he got out of the Impala. He stretched to work the kinks out before getting back in and pulling back onto the road.

~/~\~

Sam was doing chin-ups on a pipe suspended from the ceiling of the room.

A woman emerged from the bathroom as Sam stopped. "Don't stop on my account." She smirked.

Sam laughed slightly. "I'm done."

"Last night was a…." she cleared her throat. "High point, if you don't mind me saying."

"Good," Sam smirked.

"Alright. Well, I see you need to start your day." She replied. "When did you say you were heading out?"

Sam exhaled, indicating impatience.

"You didn't. Right." She sighed, disappointed. "Damn, you know how to play that mystery card."

As she turned to leave, Sam cleared his throat and held up some cash.

"Right." She smiled. "I almost forgot. Next time…" she gave Sam a note. "You can call me on my night off. If you want."

"Okay." Sam nodded.

"Okay." She smiled, turning to leave.

The phone suddenly rang. Sam scrunched up the note and tossed it into a trashcan. He picked up his cellphone.

"Hey." Sam greeted.

~/~\~

"Hey," Dean replied. "We're about eight hours out of the Campbell Base."

"Uh, change of plans," Sam replied. "I need you guys to meet me. I'm in PA. Town called Easter."

"What are you doing in Pennsylvania?" Dean asked, confused.

"Caught a case," Sam replied.

"A case? When?" Dean asked. "It's been like... a day and a half."

Sam laughed slightly. "I like to work."

Dean glanced at Angela. "Apparently."

"Glad we hashed that out," Sam replied. "Call me when you two roll into town." He added before hanging up.

Dean stared at his phone and then looked at Angela. "Who died and made him boss?"

~/~\~

Sam was in a suit, leaning against his car and reading some reports.

Dean and Angela drove up in the Impala. Dean exited in the middle of a phone conversation. Dean was also dressed in a suit, and Angela was dressed in a blouse and pencil skirt.

Sam looked up from his papers and looked at Angela. Sam's eyes roamed over Angela, and it didn't go unnoticed by her. She felt...uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Ben…I know you're lying." Dean said. "Because I lie professionally, that's how. Now tell your mom that you broke the damn thing and take it like a man." He added. "Okay? Ok—okay." He hung up.

"Wow." Sam laughed.

"What?" Dean asked.

"You—molding the minds of tomorrow," Sam smirked. "Who knew?"

"Yeah, tell me about it." Dean scoffed.

"How'd it go?" Sam asked.

"With?" Dean raised a brow.

"You and Lisa," Sam replied. "How'd she take it when you bailed?"

"Shockingly cool, actually," Dean replied as he looked through some papers.

"Better for everybody." Sam nodded.

"Yeah, I suppose." Dean shrugged. "Still driving the plastic piece of crap, huh?"

"What's your mileage, again?" Sam retorted.

"Shut up." Dean rolled his eyes.

~/~\~

Sam briefed Dean and Angela as they walked through the station to the morgue.

"Officer Gerald Hatch, a 17-year veteran, found dead in the ready room three days ago," Sam explained.

"Whoa," Angela muttered, reading over the file. "Somebody was over-hydrated."

Sam laughed. "Basically, yeah. The guy just…liquefied." Sam replied. "Most of the meat, bones, dense tissues—they just turned to blood."

"Okay, I don't get it." Dean shrugged.

"Nobody gets it," Sam said obviously.

"No." Dean shook his head. "I mean, I get that. I'm saying, if the guy was a mop job, then what are we doing in the morgue? What's left of him to look at?"

"Not here to look at him," Sam replied. "Here." He opened the drawer, revealing the boil-covered cop.

"Yikes…" Angela said.

"Ooh. Bad news." Dean frowned.

"Officer Toby Gray," Sam said. "They just brought him in. Found him dead in his patrol car, sitting at a speed trap on the outside of town."

"Extreme allergic reaction." Angela read.

"Yeah. Boils." Sam replied. "Covered from head to toe."

"Yeah, on the inside, too," Angela said. "It says his airways are chock full of them. This starting to look a little witchy to you?"

"That was my first instinct, but I found zero signs of hex work anywhere," Sam replied. "Far as I can tell, witchcraft was not involved."

"There's got to be some sort of link between, uh, skidmark and bubble wrap here," Dean said.

"No question." Sam agreed.

"Alright, well, can we get a witness?" Angela asked.

"Yep." Sam nodded. "Uh…Officer Ed Colfax." He read from his notes. "Saw Hatch go from a solid to a liquid."

"Another cop?" Angela raised a brow.

"Hatch's partner," Sam replied, pushing the body back into its drawer.

~/~\~

Sam's car swung around a corner. Dean's car pulled out in front of him and was first to park his vehicle at their destination.

"Were you, uh…were you racing me?" Sam asked.

"No," Dean replied. "I was kicking your ass."

Angela rolled her eyes. "Put the rulers away boys and act professionally." She said before knocking on the door.

"Hello? Officer Colfax?" Dean called.

The door opened to reveal Ed in full dress uniform.

"Whoa," Dean said. "Lookin' sharp, Kojak."

"Who the hell are you?" Ed asked.

"We're the Fed, Ed," Sam answered. "We're here to ask you a few follow-up questions about your partner's death."

"Don't worry about it," Ed replied. "It's nobody's business."

Angela's brows knitted together. "Officer Colfax—

"Don't worry about it!" he snapped at her, slamming the door shut.

Sam kicked the door in without hesitating.

"Dude!" Dean exclaimed.

Walking towards Ed's office, Sam, Dean, and Angela passed a wall of family photos with the faces scratched out. They found Ed in his office, using a screwdriver to scratch out the face of his police portrait.

"Officer Colfax?" Angela asked.

"Hey, man, you alright?" Dean added.

"Don't worry about it," Ed mumbled.

"Right." Dean nodded. "Look, Officer Colfax—Ed. We think that your partner died of unnatural causes."

Ed scratched his hat.

"Did he have any enemies that you know of?" Angela asked softly.

"You might say that," Ed replied absentmindedly.

"Oh, yeah? Who's that?" Sam pressed.

"They both had it coming. Me too." Ed replied. "I'll be the next to go, and then it'll be over. And God will be satisfied."

"Why does God want you all dead?" Dean asked.

"Because of Christopher Birch," Ed replied, knocking over a bottle of booze. He watched it spill for some time. "Oh, dammit."

"Who's Christopher Birch?" Sam asked.

"He has no face," Ed mumbled.

"Ed?" Sam asked.

"Officer, you alright?" Dean asked.

Ed set the bottle upright.

"Who is Christopher Birch, Ed?" Angela repeated.

"Ed!" Dean snapped.

"Christopher Birch is a kid with no face…and a planted gun." Ed answered.

Dean frowned when he noticed blood dribbling from under Ed's hat. "Uh, you got a little something…yeah." He said as Ed put a finger on it.

"Damn." He looked up at the three hunters. "My head's been itching like a dirty jock." He added before falling forward.

"Ed?" Sam asked. He walked behind the desk and checked Ed's neck for a pulse. "Dead." He sighed.

Suddenly, a buzzing sound could be heard.

"You hear that?" Angela asked.

Sam removed Ed's hat. Locusts crawled out of a hole in Ed's head.

~/~\~

Dean and Angela were seated at a table, looking through papers. Sam was at the other end, working on his laptop.

"Sweet," Dean commented. "Blood, boils, locusts."

"Three of your more popular Egyptian plagues," Sam replied.

Dean picked up a jar containing the locusts. "Yeah, but these guys…ate their way out of a cop's melon," Dean replied. "I don't quite remember that in King James."

"Meanwhile, a kid named Christopher Birch was shot in the head last month after a vehicle pursuit." Sam read. "Hatch, Gray, and Colfax were the three officers involved, and they all filed the exact same police report."

"Suspect exited vehicle brandishing a firearm. We were forced to fire." Angela read.

"Just a kid with no face and a planted gun," Dean repeated. "Bunch of dicks. So they pop the kid, plant the piece."

"Maybe Colfax is right." Sam shrugged. "You know, maybe heaven has a hate-on for cops."

"So, we're listening to the guy with the bug in his custard?" Dean raised a brow. "That's—that's the, uh, the theory you want to go with?"

"Dean, angels got to have something to do, right, now that we're post-Apocalypse?" Sam replied.

"We should call Cas," Angela suggested.

Sam scoffed. "You're kidding, right? I've tried. It was the first and second and third thing I did, soon as I got topside." Sam replied. "Son of a bitch won't answer the phone."

Dean shrugged. "Angie's right. We should give it a shot."

Angela closed her eyes and sighed. "Hey, Cas." She started. "We uh, we could really use some help down here." She added, pausing for a moment, opening her eyes. She looked around the motel room.

"This is stupid." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Stay positive," Dean replied.

"Oh, I am positive." Sam scoffed.

Dean sighed. "Come on, Cas! Don't be a dick. We got ourselves a…plague-like situation down here, and…do you…do you copy?"

"Like I said…" Sam cleared his throat. "Son of a bitch doesn't answer…" he started, noticing Dean and Angela look behind him. "He's right behind me, isn't he?"

"Hello." Castiel smiled.

~/~\~

"Hello?" Sam asked.

"Y-yes." Castiel nodded.

"Hello." Sam mimicked Castiel. "Hello?" he raised a brow.

"Uh, that is still the term?" Castiel asked, confused.

"I spent all that time trying to get through to you. Dean and Angie call once, and now it's 'hello'?!" Sam snapped.

"Yes." Castiel nodded.

"So, what, you—you like them better or something?" Sam scoffed.

"Dean, Angie, and I do share a more profound bond," Castiel explained. He looked at Dean and Angela. "I wasn't gonna mention it." He defended.

Dean sighed deeply. "Cas, I think what he's trying to say is that…he went to Hell for us," Dean said. "I mean, he really took one for the team. You remember that? And then he comes back without a clue, and you can't take five friggin' minutes to give him some answers?"

"If I had any answers, I might have responded," Castiel replied strongly. "But I don't know, Sam. We have no idea who brought you back from the cage…or why."

"So…it wasn't God?" Sam asked.

"No one's even seen, God," Castiel replied. "The whole thing remains mysterious."

"What the hell does that mean?" Sam asked, clearly frustrated.

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "What part of 'I don't know' escapes your understanding?"

"Cas, look, if Sam calls, you answer. Okay?" Dean replied. "You wing your ass down here, and you tell him, 'I don't know'. Just because you have some sort of bond with Angie and I—or whatever."

Castiel raised a brow. "You think I came because you two called?" He asked. "I came because of this." He walked to the table where their research was spread out.

"Oh, well, it's nice to know what matters," Angela said.

"It does help one to focus." Castiel sassed.

"Wait, so—so you and the Halo Patrol, you guys aren't the cause of these killings?" Sam asked.

"No." Castiel shook his head. "But they were committed with one of our weapons. There's only one thing that could have brought this into existence. You call it the Staff of Moses."

Angela went wide-eyed. "The Staff?"

Castiel picked up the jar of locusts. "It was used in a dominance display against the Egyptians, as I recall."

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

"B-but I thought the Staff turned, like, a—a river into blood, not one guy." Angela shrugged.

"The weapon isn't being used at full capacity," Castiel explained. "I think we can rule Moses out as a suspect."

"Okay, but…what is—what is the Chuck Heston's disco stick doing down here, anyway? I mean, don't you guys put away your toys?" Dean accused.

"Before the apocalypse, Heaven may have been corrupt, but it was stable," Castiel answered. "The staff was safely contained." He sighed. "It's been chaos up there since the war ended. In that confusion, a number of…powerful weapons were…stolen."

"Wait, you—you're saying your nukes are loose?" Dean stammered.

"Yeah, I'm afraid so," Castiel replied. "But you've stumbled onto one of them. We must find the weapon that did this." He indicated the jar of locusts. "I need your help."

Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes. "That's rich. Really."

Castiel grunted, tossing the jar of locusts at Sam. "Sam, Dean, Angela, my 'people skills' are 'rusty'." He said, using air quotes. "Pardon me, but I have spent the last 'year' as a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent. But believe me, you do not want that weapon down here. Help me find it. Or more people will die."

"Alright." Angela nodded. "Okay. Well, if the angels didn't pull the trigger, then that brings us back to motive."

"What?" Castiel squinted.

"Back to the case," Sam said. "Right now, we got three dead cops. The only thing linking them…is this." He added, taking the newspaper clipping from Dean. "Father of slain suspect calls for an investigation." He read.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, Angela, and Castiel suddenly appeared in the Birch family living room.

"Oh, Cas, a little warning next time." Dean sighed.

Darryl went wide-eyed. "What the…how'd you get here?!"

"Mr. Birch, settle down," Sam replied, showing his FBI badge. "Federal agents."

"But you can't just walk in here!" Darryl argued.

Sam indicated the clippings. "Quite a collection you've got there, huh?"

"What are you trying to—

"Look, we know the truth, alright?" Sam cut him off. "Chris didn't have a gun on him when those cops shot him. They set him up."

"Yeah." Darryl nodded. "They're all getting theirs."

"And who's giving it to them, Darryl?" Sam accused.

"Darryl?" Angela asked softly. "Did you kill Toby Gray and the others?"

"Me?!" Darryl exclaimed. "I didn't kill anyone! Look at how they died!"

"You smote them with the Staff of Moses!" Castiel accused.

Darryl looked taken aback. "The hell kind of Fed are you?"

"We don't have time for this." Castiel stepped up to Darryl. "Where is it?"

Aaron brandished part of the Staff as if it were a gun. "Leave my dad alone!"

"Is that…?" Angela asked.

"Yes," Castiel replied.

"Shouldn't it be bigger?" Sam frowned.

"Yes. It's—it's been sawed off." Castiel frowned.

"Leave him alone!" Aaron yelled. "It wasn't him!"

"Aaron, get out of here!" Darryl shouted.

Castiel pressed two fingers to Darryl's forehead, Darryl fell back onto the sofa, unconscious.

Aaron looked at his dad and Castiel. "What did you do to him?"

"It's alright," Dean assured. "He's just sleeping."

Aaron pointed the staff at Dean.

Castiel teleported next to Aaron and took away the staff.

"Cas, take it easy!" Dean snapped. He looked at Aaron. "Listen, we're not here to hurt you, okay? But we need to know…where did you get this thing?"

"Please don't kill my dad," Aaron begged. "It was me. I did it."

"Okay, sweetie, nobody's killing anybody," Angela assured. "What's your name?"

"Aaron." He replied. "Aaron Birch."

"Okay, Aaron Birch, where did you get this?" Angela asked.

"You won't believe me." Aaron shrugged.

"Try me." Angela urged.

"It was an angel," Aaron answered.

"An angel?" Dean cut in.

"Those liars, they killed my brother, and nothing bad even happened to them," Aaron replied angrily. "It's not fair. So I prayed to God every night he would punish them. God didn't answer. But he did."

"His name—did he give you a name?" Castiel pressed.

"No." Aaron shook his head. "He just said I could have justice, but I was gonna have to take it myself. He…he gave me the stick."

"He just…gave it to you?" Dean asked. "Ah, come on. He didn't just give it to you, did he, Aaron?"

"I bought it," Aaron replied.

"You bought it?" Sam asked, chuckling. "With what? What's your allowance?"

"What did the angel want for it? What did you give him for it?" Dean asked.

"My soul," Aaron said seriously.

"You sold your soul to an angel?" Sam raised a brow.

Angela looked at Castiel. "Can that even happen?"

Castiel shook his head. "It's never happened before. An angel's buying souls. That could explain why he cut the staff into pieces."

"Why?" Sam asked.

"More pieces, more product," Castiel explained.

"More product?" Dean frowned. "Who is this guy?"

"We'll find him," Castiel replied. He pressed his fingers to Aaron's forehead; Aaron fell unconscious.

"Cas!" Angela yelled.

"What did you do that for?" Dean asked.

"Portability," Castiel said bluntly.

Castiel was carrying Aaron over his shoulder, back in Sam's hotel room. Castiel placed Aaron on the bed.

"Cas, you realize you just kidnapped a kid?" Dean asked.

"If the angel we seek truly bought this boy's soul, when a claim is laid on a living soul, it leaves a mark, a brand," Castiel explained.

"What, like a—like a shirt tag at camp?" Sam asked.

"I have no idea," Castiel replied. "But I can read the mark and find the name of the angel that bought the soul."

"How?" Angela asked.

"Well, painfully for him," Castiel answered. "The reading will be excruciating."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean cut him off. "Hold on."

"Dean." Castiel sighed.

"He's a kid, Cas." Angela chimed in. "A kid."

"Exactly," Dean replied. "Sam, back us up here, man."

Sam looked at Castiel. "Any permanent damage?"

"What?!" Dean and Angela exclaimed.

"Physically, minimal," Castiel replied.

"Oh, well, yeah, then, by all means, stick your arm right in there," Dean said sarcastically.

"Dean!" Castiel snapped. "If I get the name, I can work a ritual to track the angel down."

"And we're all for that," Angela assured. "But come on. There's got to be another way."

"There is no other way," Castiel said grimly.

"You're gonna torture a kid?" Dean frowned.

"I can't care about that!" Castiel replied, rolling his sleeve up. "I don't have the luxury."

Castiel pushed his hand into Aaron's chest. Aaron screamed. Dean and Angela advanced, but Sam held them back. They watched as Aaron screamed and his body lit up from the inside. He stopped screaming and fell unconscious when Castiel withdrew his hand.

"He'll rest now," Castiel said.

"Did you get a name? What is it?" Sam asked.

Castiel frowned. "I thought he died in the war."

"What, he—he was a—he was a friend or something?" Sam pressed.

Castiel sighed. "A good friend."

"Yeah, well, your frat buddy is now moonlighting as a crossroads demon." Dean scoffed.

"Balthazar," Castiel said. "I wonder…"

"So we can find him now, right?" Sam asked.

An angel suddenly appeared. "Balthazar." He smirked. "Thanks, Castiel. We'll make good use of the name."

The angel attacked Castiel with an angel blade. Castiel blocked it with his own.

"And by the way, Raphael says hello." The angel said.

The angel and Castiel fought in the room until they both lost their blades. They grappled each other and jumped through the window, falling several stories onto a car parked on the street. Sam, Dean, and Angela looked out the window. The angel disappeared, leaving Castiel standing next to the destroyed vehicle.

"My car." Sam frowned.

Dean looked at Sam and Angela, with a small smirk. "Okay. Silver lining."

A/N: Hey guys! I'm so glad that you're enjoying the series so far! So far, we see that Angela and Dean are getting suspicious of Sam's actions/motives. Stay tuned to see what happens next! Don't forget to review! Love you guys.

~Emily