A/N: My prayers and junk for those of you who are going through finals right now. I am and it's riding my ass. I'm publishing again (end re-uploading the beta'd version later) since we had such a traumatic episode last time and I really wanted to get this out there.

ALSO; HAPPY MOTHERS DAY. For those of you who have good relationships with their mom's, go give her a hug for me, if she's passed on, I give you my love and prayers that they're okay in whatever afterlife, and for those of you whose mom's were bad people, it's okay if you feel bitter and awful about today because you didn't have that in your life.

Edited: beta'd May 27th by AntiNickname!

Re-writes published Dec. 16th

Chapter 9: Load My Shotgun

"Castiel just called," Bobby told the group, flipping his phone shut. "Said he and Dean are checking something out. Apparently the CIA approved his involvement before he got his badge revoked."

Rufus cursed and leaned against one of the desks in the floor area of the unit office. In the amount of time it had taken Cas to find and wrangle in Dean, the rest of the team had made it back to base, having found nothing else at the apartment. Rufus should have known better. Instead of letting the boy wander off, there were about a thousand pairs of handcuffs at the field office that he could've put to use. "Not that I'm not glad that the boy's hide's been saved, but what the hell is the CIA doing granting him access anyway?"

"You know I never trusted the CIA," Ash added into the conversation. He received a short glare from both men and raised his hands in surrender. He turned back to the computer to continue running traces with Charlie. It was fairly boring work, and in between they'd each pulled up a small, code-based gaming screen. He returned back to it with a shrug at Charlie.

The atmosphere soured even more as Gordon came strolling in. Rufus frowned and immediately righted himself off of the desk. Gordon smiled at the group and even Ellen felt wonky at the look. There was something unpleasant about him.

"Chief, just the guy I wanted to see," Gordon said. He clasped his hands together in front of him cheerfully, a cloud clap echoed across the room after.

"Agent Walker," Rufus nodded, "the BAU team. I'm not sure you've met."

"No, we haven't." Gordon turned to give them each a long look. "It's actually what I'm here about. I hear Sam Winchester's gotten himself in on the wrong side of the law and Dean's following."

"Sam Winchester is missing and Dean is an authorized member for the task force assigned to the case," Rufus replied. His tone was clipped and short. Since he'd paired Gordon and Dean up there'd been some strife between them, and it hadn't gotten any easier when Dean left for Virginia to train. If anything, Gordon had started to develop a paranoid suspicion about his 'partner'. They were all pegging it as jealousy. Getting handpicked by the NCAVC? It didn't happen often. Gordon was competitive enough to be difficult on his own but couple that with his worrying personality? It spelled trouble.

"Family going after family? You know, it's really not all adding up," Gordon replied, pulling up a chair and sitting in it. His smile was oily. "There's no way Dean hasn't been keeping tabs on that kid. He's got a serious issue over it and we all know it."

"Dean was at Quantico at the time, under Agent Novak's and my supervision," Bobby growled. He'd heard of the guy before, and his record. He wasn't a fan.

"Speaking of Agent Novak, where is he?"

"In the field."

"With Dean?" Gordon smirked.

"Agent Walker, my office. Now," Rufus chimed in. He'd seen the way the other man's shoulders had started to stiffen. It was usually followed by a grin and some highly inappropriate remarks.

"Yes, sir. But, you guys sure we shouldn't be hunting them down? Rouge cops aren't really cops anymore. They're just one more criminal to catch."

The team watched as the two men disappeared behind a slammed door.

"He's incredibly rude," Charlie said. She turned to her computer and shook her head. "Is he always like that?"

"All the damn time," Ash told her, rolling his eyes. He tapped at the computer screen as more pieces of Meg's past and crime scene photos were gathering. "Jesus, Sam. What the hell did you get into?"

… … … … … … … … … … … .. .. .. .. .. . . . . . . . . .

Sam wrung his hands together and took a deep breath. He figured he'd been there two days. How long had the others been there? He had no clue. But, at least now that his head had cleared a little, he could sort of pull together a few ideas.

Before all this, he'd been driving out to meet a new contact. Someone Meg had given him. He shook his head and had to stop the laughter from coming out. His other companions would think he was crazy but really, what had he been thinking? He'd gathered enough from the files that she wasn't squeaky clean. Anger had made him get in over his head. Anger had made him cocky. Made him think he could've played her. He hadn't been expecting the hard knock to the head and the rude wake up call.

He figured by the climate he wasn't too far. Some Oklahoma small town. He was praying that they hadn't left the state but couldn't guarantee it. Spring was rolling in the same everywhere in the area and it wasn't like he even knew how long he'd been out. Best case they weren't too far but the lack of cell reception concerned him. He'd been shocked to find that he'd been left his phone. They obviously weren't worried about him calling for help.

There were only a few buildings in the area. It looked like an industrialized farm town, maybe two or three houses populated. A few shacks, a huge farm, some shops, a couple of houses, and a few storage barns. Or so he guessed; he hadn't wandered too far from what the places excuse for a "town square" was. Re-grouping his thoughts seemed like step a before they started wandering.

He looked up at his companions. Andy, he recognized. While running around a little more than obsessed in Dean's absence, he'd managed to track down other names on the list he'd found himself on. And Ava. Though, he didn't know either of them very well. Then there were the two he'd never seen before: Jake and Lily. So far, judging by the stories they'd swapped, Sam had been the only one that had gone seeking for answers or even been aware of anything too terrible going on. Jake had last fallen asleep at his bunker at Fort Sill, having come back from Afghanistan for re-training. Lily didn't feel like sharing, Andy had been high out of his mind, and then Ava. Well, Ava seemed the most coherent, saying she'd had a feeling like she was being stalked. But, she'd been a few states over at that time.

"You seem to be a lot more in the know about what's going on."

Sam looked up at Jake and ran a hand through his hair. "It's really convoluted and stupid, I really don't think you'd even believe me."

"Try us," Lily snapped, hugging her arms close to her body.

"Well," Sam sighed. Even he wasn't one hundred percent in on it. What he had gathered hadn't been anything nice. "Well, for one, we're 'special'. We all come from 'chosen families'."

"Chosen by who?" Jake asked.

"This guy, I think, his name's-" A loud bang interrupted him.

They all stood up quickly, huddling a little closer. Sam squared his shoulders and bent down to grab a piece of broken wood. He and Jake glanced around before starting to inch towards the house on the opposite side of the small street. "You guys looked everywhere, right?" Sam whispered.

"Yeah, first thing I did: Scout the place," Jake told him.

Hearts hammering in their chests, the other three staying further behind, they burst in the abandoned house. It looked like nothing had really been moved. There was an overturned chair but that was about it. Then they heard the buzzing. Sam rounded the corner into the living room of the place to see a TV playing white static.

"That wasn't on before."

The others filed in after them. There was a VHS sitting on top of the TV, a small area wiped clean of dust like it had just been put there.

"I guess we should watch it?" Andy offered, scooting around Sam and peering at it.

"Because home movies are going to help so much right now," Lily snapped. She stayed in the room despite her protest.

Sam slid the tape in; the VCR even looked new. The screen sat black for a moment before flickering to life. There was a man in a dark room, a single low hanging light illuminating him. There was a sound of shuffling, a pause and a laugh, then brighter lights flickered on.

"Sorry, kids! My mistake, should've had that on before I even hit record. I know at least some of you have heard of me, maybe even seen me on TV -now not included," the man winked, "Azazel. And I have some instructions for you."

Sam slid into the closest chair, feeling clammy.

"You guys are really a special bunch. You have your parents to thank for that, if you make it out, give 'em a big hug when you get back. Well, those families we didn't burn to a crisp. Nasty paperwork issues and loose ends to tie up. Bureaucracy. You know how it is. No worries, new recruits, at least one of you, is going to make it out of here just fine. Think of it as tryouts! Get a few rewards here and there, and get to helping on getting Big Daddy out. Something you also get to thank your parents for, they really stepped in it this time when they made their choices. It's okay if you're confused! And you might stay that way for a little. I'd be a terribly awful criminal if I told you all of it. And isn't that half the fun self-discovery. Oh, and try to stay within the parameters."

The TV started hissing as the tape came to an end. They stared at the screen trying to take it all in.

"He's insane," Andy whispered, eyes wide.

"Oh my god, this has... this can't be real." Ava turned towards Sam, tears brimming in her eyes. "You-your brother, he's FBI, right? He'll find us."

"What did he mean by parameters?"

Sam opened his mouth to respond to Jake but quickly shut it. He scanned the room and took a few confused steps towards each door. "Where's Lily?"

Their faces paled as they rushed out of the house, calling her name. They made it towards the edge of town square, where the large windmill stood, to find her swinging from it, eyes swelling inside of her head from the pressure of the rope. Ava screamed as Jake and Sam raced forward to try and climb the tower to get her down.

She was dead before they made it halfway up.

… … … … … … … … … … … .. .. .. .. .. . . . . . . . . .

Dean drummed his fingers on the wheel of the car and kept checking the phone in his lap. They'd been driving for a few hours now, going further and further away from city limits. The instructions he'd received hadn't been very clear. Apparently the place the little bitch was hiding out at wasn't on a lot of maps, or at least, it wasn't an address you could punch into a GPS. He'd been sent a scroll through map onto his phone. Next time he went and got his information, he'd make sure to ask how long the damn drive would take.

"How do you even know where we're going?" Castiel had been blessedly silent since calling the team but finally had to speak up.

Dean glared at him and white knuckled the wheel. "Connections."

"Dean-"

"Cas, not right now. If you're not gonna be helpful, I'll toss you out of the damn car."

Castiel sighed but let himself fall silent for two seconds. He watched the scenery fly by as clouds rolled in with the evening. It was an idiotic idea to go hunting for internationally wanted terrorists, without back up, when in a few hours it would be nightfall. "This can jeopardize your entire career."

"Which is worth a helluva lot less to me than my brother's life."

Castiel fell silent again and resisted the urge to sigh. He understood the drive, he really did. While he couldn't say much of his own siblings, he treated his team the same way. Well, usually a little less tempered. But, he wanted to hold onto the idea that there was a better way to go about it. Staring at Dean while he drove made him think. He'd gotten to the point where he was figuring that they could be friends, and was willing to let it develop, especially if Dean was going to be on their team. The rest of the team liked him well enough and the group wouldn't operate if they didn't treat each other like family- within the rules set by the bureau of course. While he and Dean hadn't talked obsessively, they'd shared enough with each other (and Dean to the other members, as well) that they'd slowly been expecting to carve up a new place for him in their lives. What Dean was doing-not just risking his life, but the renegade act? It could cost him the job. Castiel hadn't realized just how much he'd actually been planning Dean's addition to their team. It would be hard to find as qualified of a replacement for the job, and certainly not one as charming as one as Dean.

"If we catch a few bad guys, bring Sam home, they'll overlook it," Dean said, glancing over at Cas. It wasn't that he was completely unconcerned; he'd already been saving apartments online to look through, tentative as it had been. It was serious for him, but... "Come on, give us a smile," Dean tried again.

"The NVACV may not be so kind."

"You'll put in a good word for me though, right Cas?" Dean winked.

Castiel grumbled at Dean and pointedly looked out the window, but even in the reflection Dean could see there was a small, stubborn, smile forming.

… … … … … … … … … … … .. .. .. .. .. . . . . . . . . .

They'd gathered into one of the smaller houses after finding some candles. Sam and Jake agreed to go bury Lily together as they couldn't exactly just leave her to rot. They left Ava and Andy there with rusted poles they'd found and instructions to lock the doors. It took them a long time to figure out how to carry her. Neither of them wanted to throw her over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She deserved more respect than that. Eventually, they'd agreed on finding an old sheet, wrapping her up, and carrying her towards what used to be a flowerbed.

They dug in silence.

It was exhausting work, and they had to let themselves take a small break. Sitting down, sipping water they'd gathered at a nearby well in antique mugs, they talked a little.

"That girl, Ava, she mentioned your brother's FBI."

Sam looked up and nodded. "Yeah, he's uh, at the field office in Oklahoma City."

"We've been missing for awhile now I think, probably stretching on 48 hours depending on the location. We'll be in the system."

"I thought about that," Sam muttered and rubbed a tired hand over his face. "But I haven't exactly been up front with my brother lately."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It was a dumb thing to do but. The reason I know a lot more about what the hell is going on here is because I hadn't exactly been honest about the ways I got the information. Especially to my brother."

"Well share with the class. It's all our lives at stake here."

"He kept mentioning parents, in the video. And my... parents. Well... my mom died in a fire. They told us it was accident but I looked in the files and it said arson for sure. They got a lot of other names in there too, and records even I couldn't get to. Records that were labeled 'Lucifer'. I think maybe our parents knew something, maybe they-"

"My mother's still alive, so I don't know how well that theory's going to pan out," Jake commented softly, starting to dig at the grave more.

"Well that's good," Sam said, quieting. He was pretty sure he was on the right track about why their families were picked, but he wasn't about to go insulting someone else's mother. Then again, maybe it wasn't even anything bad. He'd toyed with the idea of some insane witness protection program thing but then laughed it off. Maybe if he stopped watching so many crime movies he'd have better ideas. Now, digging in an old dirt patch to bury a woman barely 20 years old, he was more inclined to believe it. Maybe TV got it right for once.

They finally managed to put her in the shallow grave and covered her in dirt. They marched back to the house they'd set up camp at only to find Ava missing and Andy's chest ripped open on the floor.

… … … … … … … … … … … .. .. .. .. .. . . . . . . . . .

The sun was starting to set when they finally ran out of map. They were on the outskirts of nowhere, driving up a winding hill. At the top of it was a modest, mansion-esque house. Well, about as modest as they could come. They'd turned their lights off as they climbed the road, Castiel taking the time to attempt to send their location to the team. They'd been making headway as they drove.

Castiel hadn't shared all of this information with Dean yet, hoping to keep him calm. They'd finally gotten a major break. It just didn't show in Sam's favor. Photos- thousands of them - of Sam and Meg having dinner discussions, snippets of recorded phone calls had been unearthed, and the most incriminating piece of all: the lines Sam had gone through when he'd first attempted to get the files. A few bribe attempts had been recorded until the line of inquiry stopped. Then, a week later, they'd been given to him for free. Ellen had made some phone calls up the line and no one could tell how high the authorization had come to give Sam Winchester legal clearance to the files. Every lawyer, every judge they hit, had higher up to go to until they hit classified. It put Sam in a very suspicious light.

Especially if the rumors popping up, and the fear of it being a recruitment drive, were true. Ash and Charlie had gathered up terrifyingly huge amounts of people that had been reported missing. Only a few had been found and they'd all been dead. It didn't help that the further they had dug into some of the history of the people reported missing, the more violence they'd discovered. Some with heavy relations to those whose names had never even once come up on the original C.O.L.T. files.

"This is it. Cas."

Dean brought the car to a halt and dug into holster for his gun. Castiel shook his head and hissed at him, "We need to wait for back up."

"We don't have time for that. Either you're in or you're not," Dean snapped back. He slid out of the car and let the door slam shut gently before sliding the safety off of his gun and pulling the clip.

Castiel had no choice but to follow, coming up to him quickly and keeping his gun aimed towards the ground. No need to point if you weren't ready to shoot. "Fine. Are you sure this is the right place?"

"It had better be, I paid enough money for it."

"Excuse me?"

Dean didn't even bother with a response as they snuck up the gravel pathway. Large windows lit the slowly darkening yard. They could hear some music playing from the inside of the house as they edged closer to the main door. "Fine, Dean, but at least let's do a soft entry so as not to-"

There was a loud series of bangs as Dean fired into the handle on the door. He blew a hole clear through the lock and marched forward, yanking the door open and announcing himself as FBI. Castiel cursed every fate in the world for having put him with Dean Winchester. He promised to take it back later when they were safe.

Castiel rounded the door and stepped in, gun raised, only to find one pointing right back at him.

"Meg Masters," he muttered at the woman.

The hallway leading in from the doorway was long. She sat on top of a dinner table, a champagne glass in one hand, a gun in the other. And from the look of it, it packed more firepower than theirs did. Dean was frozen in the entryway. His hands were almost shaking from trying not to empty his clip into her. "Nice dye job," he hissed out.

"Thanks. I know they say blondes have more fun, but..." she shrugged and grinned, toying with her hair. "Dean Winchester, as I live and breathe! The rumors are true- you really are as gorgeous as your mother. Welcome to my home, although it doesn't bode well for our relationship that you're already destroying my furniture." She took a sip of her champagne. "Castiel, I've been waiting to meet you, too. You're kind of a big deal around some circles."

Castiel swallowed and prayed: one, for Dean not to lose his temper- all they had to wait for was back up; two, that what Meg was insinuating had nothing to do with his criminal roots. The last was more of a last effort prayer. Of course she knew. As high up the chain of command that she was, she would have had to. Besides, Lucifer probably shared that information freely. But, perhaps, maybe Castiel had been too young to be remembered. That ray of hope lasted even half the time; his family was dead because they had remembered him.

Meg slid off the table and stepped forward.

"Not one step forward or I shoot you where you stand, you skuzzy bitch."

"No you won't," Meg purred, keeping her arm straight, seemingly ignorant of the guns weight. It looked large for her small wrists, but years of experience had taught Castiel not to underestimate the strength of a woman based on her size.

"Try me," Dean bit back, "and don't you know you're not supposed to handle weapons under the influence?"

"I like this, we're flirting," Meg laughed and Dean stepped forward, finger twitching on the trigger.

"Dean! No," Castiel stepped forward, grabbing his arm. It took a lot of maneuvering to keep his own gun trained at her while he pulled Dean back.

"She's the only one who can help us," Castiel hissed at him. "We can't afford to lose our temper."

Dean's neck was starting to redden from his impressive amount of self-control. Anger rushed through him in waves, eating him alive and burning everything else to a crisp.

"My knight in shining armor, how sweet. Champagne?" She asked, stepping a little further back into the rest of the house.

Dean was about to snap at her again when Castiel started forcing them to move further in with her. Maybe, if they were lucky, she would slip up. But what he was really hoping for was carelessness. Some paper left out, some clue. An unexpected maid they could use to their advantage, or someone easier to question. "No, thank you. What do you want with Sam Winchester?"

"You mean what do we want with all of them."

"All of them?"

"The battle royale of the century," she quickly glanced at her gun to make sure the safety was still slid off. "And that adorable little moose of yours is the star player. I will say Dean, that mother of yours managed to instill some damn good manners into him before she fried up."

Castiel's grip on Dean's arm started to cut off circulation.

"What are you trying to make him do?"

"Make him? We're not going to make him do anything. Oh no, it'll be all him big boy."

"You dirty little-"

"Dean," Cas warned as Meg fiddled with one hand to pour herself another glass.

"Really, this is your parents' fault. They fucked up and they marked you, all the better for us in the long run, honestly. But, I almost really just want to tell you to see the look on your face," she laughed and her eyes twinkled with it.

Dean nearly threw his gun to the floor just to take a swing at her, but Cas pushed him to the side again, nearly bumping him into a table. Something rattled on it and fell to the floor, but Castiel had a gun to worry about. "If you cooperate, you may not get the death penalty for your crimes."

"Death penalty? Honey, I'll never even see the inside of a cell."

The table rattled a little as Dean moved against and then something in Meg's pocket rang. Dean's eyes narrowed into laser points as he moved forward. Meg pulled the trigger and Castiel had to curse and duck, sprinting behind one of the decorative cut outs in the wall. He yanked the stand back and scooted into the opening, barely big enough to fit him. He heard a few more blasts, two of which grazed the wall next to him. When it died down, he could hear harsh panting breaths, high pitched laughter, and then silence after the sound of another gun shot.

"Dean!?" Castiel yelled out, braving his head out of the small protective space. His eyes caught Dean kneeling over a bleeding Meg. He rushed forward, cursing. "Damn it, Dean!"

He dug into his pocket for his cell phone as he moved down, putting pressure over the gut wound that was bubbling blood over the floor. He managed to dial their private emergency line- the FBI would be faster than the local ER- while Dean fumbled with Meg's phone.

"Got it," Dean whispered, getting up. Cas only had a chance to grab a name or two off of the small local map on it before Dean was taking off and out of the door.

As Castiel knelt on the parlor floor, hands covered in blood, he yelled after Dean. Meg coughed and a small fleck of blood spittled from her mouth as he heard Dean start up the car and tear down gravel lane.

He called Dean's name one last time before the sound disappeared, and then turned his focus on keeping Meg alive long enough to survive for trial.