CHAPTER 17

None of them knew where they should go, or how to find Ansen's apartment. "The restaurant," Sam said suddenly. "It's only seven o'clock, they should still be open. One of his coworkers is bound to know." So they piled into the two cars and took off.

They didn't have to go all the way to the restaurant. They only made it halfway there when Castiel pointed out the window and shouted, "Pull over."

Bobby did, and a second later, the Impala parked behind them. Castiel jumped out of the car and hurried forward.

About ten feet in front of him, Tracy was walking down the street, her shoulders hunched, wrapping her arms around herself as if for protection. "Excuse me," Castiel called in a low voice, trying not to startle her. She froze, then turned around, just as Bobby, Sam, and Dean jogged up behind her.

"You're the cops who were talking to Andy earlier," she said, her voice shaking. "What are you…"

"Are you alright?" Castiel asked, taking a tentative step toward her. She definitely did not appear to be alright, to judge by the way that her body was trembling.

She nodded immediately, then bit her lip and shook her head, bowing her head like she was trying to hold back a sob.

"What happened?" Sam asked, his voice low and soothing.

She looked up at him. "Who are you?"

"He's a cop as well," Castiel said quickly, and Sam nodded, pulling out his badge to show her. It was a good thing that Sam hadn't taken the time to remove it from his pocket, or to change out of his suit. He at least looked more professional, even if he wasn't wearing a police uniform.

"Okay," she said in a small voice, then took a deep breath and said, "Weber… He's the busboy at the restaurant, kind of a weirdo to be honest, but I've always figured he was harmless. But he… He made me go with him, said he was taking me on a ride." She shuddered, wrapping her arms tighter around herself, until her fingernails began to leave marks on her arms. "I didn't want to, obviously, but I couldn't say no. It was like I couldn't stop myself."

"He has that effect on people," Castiel assured her. "What happened next?"

Another deep breath, and then she continued, "I tried to call someone, to tell them what the hell was happening, but he stole my phone, threw it out the window. Then he was talking about… I don't even know, something about how I was getting too close to Andy, and I needed to be taken care of. It was just psychopathic, you know? Then he gets this phone call and suddenly stops the car and tells me to get out, says I got lucky this time, he's got somewhere else to go."

Castiel exchanged a look with the other three, who nodded. Dean was the one to ask, "Do you know where Weber's apartment is?"

Tracy nodded slowly. "It's over on Main Street. Um, Pleasant Hills Apartment Complex, room 205. It's the big building, you can't miss it. He shares this room with, live, five other guys."

"Okay, let's go," Dean said, and started to turn to head back to the car. Sam and Castiel both hesitated, though, and after a moment, Dean turned back and frowned at Tracy, like he had just realized that they shouldn't leave her on the road by herself.

"You boys go get him," Bobby said. "I'll make sure she gets home safely." He turned toward Tracy and held his cell phone out to her. "You want me to give you a ride back to your place, or would you rather call someone to come get you here?"

"Call," Tracy said in a small voice, taking the phone and dialing a number with shaking fingers. "Thank you."

"Okay, now we can go," Dean said, turning and jogging off, with Sam following directly behind him.

Castiel hesitated for one minute longer, still staring toward Bobby and Tracy, until Bobby turned his head and gave him a look. "Go," he said, and Castiel nodded, then turned and ran off after the Winchesters.

The front door to the apartment building was locked. Castiel tugged on it once, twice, but it didn't open. He frowned and turned to the Winchesters. "What do we do now?"

"Your badge," Dean said. Castiel's frown deepened, becoming more puzzled, but he pulled his FBI badge from his pocket. Dean snatched it from his hand, then hit the buzzer and held the badge up to the screen. "FBI, open up," he called. "We've got an arrest warrant for one of your tenants."

For a second, Castiel did not think that it would work. Then there was a clicking noise, and Sam yanked the door open so that the three of them could run inside.

It only took Dean a minute to lead them to the correct door. Immediately he banged his fist against the wood, hard.

There was no response. Dean pounded against the wood again, this time calling, "Ansen! Andy! Listen, I know you two are in there, so just open the damn door before we break it down."

And still, nobody responded. Dean just nodded. "Okay, I'm breaking it down," he said. He took a step back – Sam and Castiel moved to the side so that they would not be in the way – and Dean threw himself forward, hitting his shoulder against the door. The wood began to give slightly. Dean tried again, and this time, it broke completely, so that Dean could shove the door open and hurry inside, with Sam and Castiel right behind him.

Then all three of them froze.

There were four dead bodies lying in the living room. All of them appeared to be around Sam and Andy's age – Ansen's roommates, Castiel suddenly realized. They were lying randomly about the room. One was stretched out on the couch, holding a bowl of popcorn, his eyes still locked on the TV. The one in the armchair was in the same position, and two were sprawled across the floor, as if they were lying where they had fallen. All of them were covered in varying amounts of blood.

"Shit," Sam said, then hurried forward. "Andy! Andy, are you there?"

Dean took a step closer to one of the bodies and hesitantly touched one of the non-bloody spots on its arm, then turned back to Castiel, holding out his hand to show a powdery yellow residue that stuck to his fingers. "Sulfur," he said in a low voice, then glanced around. "Place is covered in it."

Sam was back a moment later, his eyes wide, and Castiel could see the honest fear in them. "They're gone," he said. "I looked in all the rooms. They're not here."

"Okay, don't panic just yet," Dean said. "Let's take a better look, maybe they could still be around here."

So they looked. But Sam was right. Ansen and Andy were both nowhere to be found.

"Do you think that Ansen-" Castiel began. Instead of finishing the sentence, he simply gestured around toward the dead bodies to show what he had meant.

"No," Sam said at once. "I'm sure that Ansen wouldn't have a problem doing this, but no. There's sulfur here, and there weren't any on the other victims. Or, at least, there was nothing on Holly Beckett, that was the only body that I got to see myself. But I don't think that it was him."

"So, you think that a demon did it?" Castiel asked slowly.

Sam nodded, his mouth pressed into a thin line. "And whatever demon killed them," he said, "I think it's the reason why Andy and Ansen are missing."

They continued to search the apartment, but found nothing more that could help them. And so they returned to the motel. Bobby was already there, having already seen Tracy home safely.

Sam paced back and forth across the motel room, not stopping. He barely even responded when people tried to talk to him, until Dean suddenly grabbed him by the arms and roughly pulled him to a stop. "Alright, that's enough," Dean insisted. "You think that you've got a reason to panic, then you share it with the class, okay?"

"Think I've got a reason to panic?" Sam asked incredulously. "Dean, you saw what happened. I think that's a pretty damn good reason to panic."

Dean shook his head. "Whatever happened, it's not going to happen to you," he said. "I can promise you that."

"Your brother's right, boy," Bobby said, taking a step closer to Sam. Castiel wanted to add something equally helpful, but wasn't sure what. So he remained silent, and allowed Bobby to do the talking. "Whatever's going on, we're gonna figure it out, and we're gonna fight it."

"How?" Sam said.

"We got salt and weapons," Bobby began, but Sam shook his head and cut him off.

"How do you know that we can do anything about this?" Sam demanded. "You've seen what's going on. So far, we've only met three other kids like me, and two of the three of them have been killers, have you noticed that?"

"Yeah, but you're not," Dean said.

"Have you seen how many things that I've killed?" Sam asked. "Hell, I'm probably the closest to a serial killer out of any of Azazel's special children."

Though Castiel had been planning on keeping silent, he now felt compelled to speak. "No," he said. "There is a very big difference between killing to protecting the innocent and killing because you want to, and I cannot imagine that you would ever cross that line."

"He's right," Dean insisted. "You know which one was the closest to a serial killer? Max Miller, when he went psycho and started murdering his family. Or this Ansen guy, he seemed pretty serial killerish to me. But whatever is making them go all loco, it's not going to get to you, okay?"

Sam nodded, though even Castiel could tell that he wasn't convinced, but at least he did not argue. "And what if it doesn't matter?" he asked. "What if demons show up and I go missing like they did? I've been spending all this time worrying that I could go insane like all the other kids did, but hell, maybe it doesn't even matter what I do."

"We can take care of that," Bobby said, and turned and began going through his own duffel bag.

"How?" Sam asked. "It's not like I can sit around behind salt lines forever."

"No," Bobby agreed, "but you can carry around this." He tossed something to Sam, who caught it and held it up, revealing that it looked intensely similar to a hex bag. Castiel instinctively stiffened, even though he doubted that Bobby was about to curse them. Neither Dean nor Sam looked even remotely worried, though, so Castiel relaxed slightly.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Special charm I just found out about," Bobby said. "Keep it with you, and demons won't be able to find you."

Now, Dean was the one to stiffen, and he immediately turned to face Bobby. "Wait, it hides you from demons?"

Bobby nodded. "That was what I just told ya, wasn't it?"

"And will it work against everything?" Dean asked. "I mean, we know Yellow-Eyes is pretty powerful-"

"No reason why it shouldn't stop him," Bobby assured him. "I've heard that they could work against the King of Hell himself, if need be."

"But not just him, right?" Dean demanded. "Like, it works on everything, right? Acheri demons, daevas- What about Hellhounds? Does it stop Hellhounds?"

"I've told ya three times now, it stops demons. All demons," Bobby said. "You've got to learn how to listen, boy."

Dean ignored him, his eyes locked on the bag. "Do you got one of those for me?"

Bobby snorted. "'Course I do, boy," he said, reaching in and pulling out two more, tossing one to Dean and one to Castiel. "I stocked up on a ton of them, been handing them out to every hunter I come across. Never know when they might come in handy, it's good to be sure."

Sam and Castiel reached out and accepted the bags that Bobby was holding out toward them. Dean was still looking down at the bag in his hand, then he suddenly nodded and stuffed it into his pocket. "Thanks, Bobby," he said, and there was something off about his voice.

Sam noticed it, too, and took a step closer to his brother. "You okay?"

Dean nodded quickly. "Yeah. What? Of course I am." He turned back around to Sam and grinned, looking genuinely thrilled as he said, "See? No demon is gonna get any of us! That's awesome, right?"

Sam hesitated, looking down at his own bag like he wasn't quite convinced. But then Dean grinned and announced again, "This is freakin' awesome!"

Finally, Sam smiled back. "Okay, yeah, the fact that I'm not going to get kidnapped by demons is awesome," he agreed, then glanced over at Bobby. "Thanks. These'll help."

"They'd better," Bobby said. "But there's one thing I want in return, you know." Sam nodded for Bobby to continue, and Bobby said, "You hear anything else about this demon, you get even the smallest bit of info, I want you to call me up and let me know. You're not handling this one on your own, boys. I'm in this fight with you."

This time, when Sam grinned, it looked entirely genuine. "Yeah, sounds like a plan," he said, then added, "Thanks."

"'Course, boy," Bobby said, like Sam was being ridiculous for even saying the words. "What's family for?"

Castiel was the first to return to the room that he and Dean shared. Dean decided to stay a little longer, to continue talking with Sam and Bobby. Meaning that Castiel was alone in the room as he moved about, getting himself ready for bed.

It didn't take long to change into sweat pants and an oversize Led Zepplin tee shirt (Castiel didn't quite remember who Led Zepplin was, but he knew that Dean liked his music, even though Castiel could never tell the difference between him and all of the other bands that Dean listened to). After that, he finished up in the bathroom, brushing his teeth quickly (he was using a toothbrush now, Dean had explained that just eating the toothpaste was a very bad idea). He even took another moment to run his fingers through his hair to remove the knots. Afterward, though, he paused, staring at the single bed.

It was obvious that Sam had been the one to pick the room, not Dean. Otherwise, Dean would have gotten them two singles. Now, Castiel wasn't sure if he should steal the bed – which Dean would deserve, considering the way that he had been acting – or if he should be nice and sleep on the couch, allowing Dean to sleep in the bed. Castiel was certain of one thing, though. Dean would not want to share.

That was when he heard it, for the first time in weeks.

Dean Winchester.

Castiel froze.

The voices were back.

He immediately cocked his head, closing his eyes as if that would make it easier for him to listen to the muffled voices that were just barely audible in the very back of his thoughts. There was no indication of where they had been, or why they had vanished, or why they had suddenly returned. They were much fainter than before, blurring together more than they ever had, and Castiel was fairly certain that if didn't pay attention, he wouldn't be able to hear them at all – as opposed to before, where he was able to ignore them even though their voices constantly rang through his thoughts.

Even so, he thought that he knew what they said after that.

Twenty days.

He wasn't entirely sure that those were the words, but it seemed to be a reasonable guess. Especially since slightly less than three weeks had passed since the angels had first claimed that something big was going to happen in forty days. Whatever this event was, clearly the angels were still talking about it again.

He didn't get the chance to think about it further, though, because right then, the door opened, and Dean walked in. He glanced over at Castiel, then froze where he stood, slowly reaching back to close the door behind him. He cleared his throat. "Hey."

"Hello," Castiel said back, instinctively, all thoughts of the angels vanishing. Then he turned and headed for the couch. He would be kind today, if only because he had grown accustomed to the couch over the past few weeks of traveling with Sam and Dean, and didn't particularly mind it.

"So, Castiel," Dean suddenly said, and now, it was Castiel's turn to freeze.

It was a moment before Castiel managed to collect himself, and then he slowly turned to look back at Dean. "What?" he demanded.

"The name that Andy called you earlier," Dean said with a shrug. "That was the fake name you decided to use? It's an angel, right?"

"Yes," Castiel said slowly, remembering that Andy had, in fact, referred to him as both Castiel and Jimmy. But that didn't explain the rest of what Dean knew. "And how do you know that Castiel's an angel?"

Dean gave a grin that looked slightly sheepish. "I had to ask Sam about that one," he admitted, then shrugged again and took a step forward. "I figured, the fake names that Sam and I use always had meaning, wanted to see if yours did, too." He paused, as if waiting for Castiel to explain. When Castiel offered no words, Dean added, "So, angel of Thursday, huh? You use that alias a lot, or-?"

"It is a bit of a complicated situation," Castiel said stiffly, "and nothing that I wish to explain further. But yes, I have called myself by the name Castiel quite often."

He had expected an argument. Dean, though, merely nodded. "Fair enough," he said, and took another slow step toward Castiel. "Listen, I gotta say..."

His voice trailed off. Castiel tilted his head, waiting, and Dean took a deep breath. "Fuck, I'm bad at this," he muttered, though whether he was addressing Castiel or himself, it was impossible to say. "But I'm just, you know. Sorry. That was pretty shitty of me earlier."

"Yes," Castiel agreed. "I have to say that 'shitty' is a very apt description of the way that you have been acting since we had sex."

Castiel had expected anger to follow that remark. Instead, though, Dean looked like he was fighting a grin. "Dude, it is so weird to hear you swear," he said. "It's fucking hilarious."

Castiel narrowed his eyes and glared at Dean, who abruptly lost the amused look on his face, his lips pressing together into a thin line instead.

"But yeah," he said. "Yeah, shitty might be a good way to describe it. Just, sorry."

"And why should I accept your apology?" Castiel asked.

Castiel had expected a flippant answer. Apparently Dean was in the habit of surprising Castiel tonight, though, because he looked like he was thinking it over. "Honestly?" he asked. "I don't know. Hell, you probably shouldn't." He took another step closer. There was only a foot of space between them now. "I'm kinda hoping that you do, though. And I can promise that it won't happen again, at least."

Castiel narrowed his eyes further, and lifted his foot to take a step backward, then lowered it to the ground without actually moving. "You are certain of that?" he asked.

"Yeah," Dean said, so strongly that Castiel did find himself believing him. "If you want to get back together or something, then I'll stop being a dick about it. Trust me, I'll be the most awesome boyfriend in the world."

For a moment, Castiel merely blinked at him. "You said the word boyfriend."

Dean shifted slightly, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "Well, yeah," he said. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Again, Castiel didn't say anything – although this time, he was forcibly restraining himself from saying that yes, that had been exactly what he had been hoping for. Instead, he took the extra moment to gather his thoughts, then asked, "Why?"

Dean frowned. "Why what?"

"Why did you act this way?" Castiel asked, his voice firmer this time. "I can't be sure if I wish to forgive me or not until I know why."

Again, Dean shifted, and seemed like he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. "I don't know," he said, which made Castiel frown, and reconsider whether or not he should actually give Dean forgiveness or not. Dean seemed to sense that that was the wrong thing to say, because he sighed and ran one hand through his hair, then said, "Okay, fine, look. I just, I freaked out, okay? I got this idea in my head that this-" he gestured between him and Castiel "-was a bad idea, and I figured that that would be a good way to cut it off, alright? I wasn't trying to be a dick on purpose."

"And?' Castiel prompted.

"And..." Dean said slowly. "Well, I basically decided that that was bullshit. So, I'm apologizing for it. And trust me, if I actually put my mind to it, then I do a pretty damn good job of it. So, let me give this a try."

Still, Castiel hesitated for a minute. "Why did you decide that this was a bad idea?"

There was a split-second period where Castiel thought that Dean might actually tell him. Then Dean shook his head. "Me being stupid, I guess," he said.

"Dean," Castiel said, a warning in his voice.

"Does it matter?" Dean asked. "Like I said, it was stupid, and I'm trying my damndest to fix it and make this up to you. Isn't that good enough?"

Castiel thought for a moment, and supposed that he could agree that it was, provided that Dean was telling the truth when he claimed that he would never behave that way again. To his credit, Dean did appear to be genuinely sorry, and looked like he really did want to make it right. And, despite the past week, Castiel realized that he trusted Dean.

So he was ready to say yes. But something stopped him.

Dean Winchester. Twenty days. So close.

Castiel had begun to take a small step toward Dean, but now he drew back. This was no longer about Dean. After all, Castiel could hardly demand that Dean share every one of his secrets when Castiel was likely keeping more than Dean was. And that was precisely the problem.

"What if you had been right?" Castiel said slowly. "We don't know each other well, after all."

Dean shook his head. "I already told you, I decided that all the reasons were bullshit, remember?"

"Yes, I know that you said that," Castiel sad, "but what if you were wrong about that?" He frowned, biting his lip, trying to come up with the words. "I showed up and forced my way into you and Sam's lives. We knew nothing about each other, and even though a few weeks have passed, I know that there are... secrets."

In short, Castiel knew that he should be honest with Dean about his past before they formed any sort of permanent relationship. If anything, Castiel should've told Dean everything before now. It had been so easy not to, though. At first, he hadn't known if he could really trust the Winchesters, of if they would kick him to the streets the moment that he revealed the truth. And then it just began to seem... less important, basically. What did it matter if he had once heard voices, when they were gone now? Why would he need to know about his past, when he was creating a new life as a hunter?

Dean stiffened at the word "secrets", and Castiel braced himself for questions of what he had been hiding, which Castiel was still not sure of how he should answer. Instead, though, Dean nodded. "Yeah, you're right," he said, and even though Castiel knew that this was the best decision, he couldn't help but feel a flash of dismay at the words.

Dean turned to walk away, as though he were going to leave the motel room – though Castiel wasn't sure where he would go – but halfway to the door, he stopped and turned back. "Listen," Dean said, "I know that this isn't going to change anything, but... I'm not keeping secrets because I'm trying to hurt anyone, alright? It's pretty much the frickin' opposite, okay? Just wanted you to know that."

Castiel frowned. He hadn't even considered the idea that Dean might assume that Castiel was speaking about whatever it was that Dean refused to reveal regarding the reason behind his behavior this past week.

"But anyway, you're right," Dean said as he turned away again. "It'd probably be better if you didn't get together with me, with the stuff I'm not telling you, so-"

Castiel moved forward and grabbed Dean's arm, moving nearly instinctively. He hadn't intended to do so; it was almost as if his body had made the decision to move towards Dean on its own. "I am not overly-worried about the secrets that you have been keeping," Castiel said truthfully. He supposed that it should bother him more than it did, but as he's thought before, he could hardly blame Dean for not wanting to share his secrets so soon. "I am much more concerned with the fact that you, in all honesty, know nothing about who I am or where I come from. Very nearly everything about me is a complete mystery to you, and I have secrets that you would never even guess that I'm keeping."

Dean turned and looked at him. "Well, when you put it like that, this does sound like it'd be a bad idea."

Castiel nodded. "I just wanted to make sure that you were aware that it is not your secrets that worry me."

"Okay," Dean said. He glanced at the door again, like he was thinking of leaving, after all. Castiel's hands instinctively tightened around his wrist, even though that was the exact opposite of what he should be doing.

Then Dean kissed him. Or, it was equally likely that he had been the one to kiss Dean. Castiel wasn't aware of what exactly had happened, and schematics hardly seemed important at the moment.

Castiel did know that he was the one to break the kiss, though, moving his face back just enough that he could look at Dean's eyes. "And you are alright with the fact that we are both keeping important secrets from each other?" he questioned.

Dean chuckled. "Stupid, right?"

"Very," Castiel agreed.

Dean just shrugged. "At least we're aware of it, though, right?" he said. "We know that there's stuff that we don't know, and we're going to go ahead and do this anyway."

Castiel nodded. "It appears as though we've reached an agreement."

Dean chuckled again, then leaned forward to kiss Castiel again.

Castiel returned the kiss for a moment – okay, more than a moment – before pulling back again. "And you are alright with this?" he asked. "Even if my secrets turn out to be larger than you imagined?" He wasn't sure why he used the word "if". He knew that Dean couldn't possibly have imagined the extent of what Castiel had kept from him.

"Yeah," Dean said simply, then it was his turn to be the hesitant one. "And, you're cool, too? Even if my secret it a way bigger deal than yours?"

"That would not be possible," Castiel assured him.

Dean shook his head, all trace of laughter gone now. "I wouldn't be so sure of that."

"I am fine with this," Castiel said, and they kissed yet again.

When the next time came and Castiel once more had something that he wished to say to Dean, he did not break the kiss completely, merely pulled back enough that he could say against Dean's lips, "You realize that we must share these secrets eventually?"

"Yeah," Dean said, and pulled Castiel in closer, practically crushing their bodies against one another as if he didn't care to say anything more on the subject. Castiel didn't argue. If anything, he was inclined to agree with Dean on this matter. So instead of thinking more about secrets and the fact that they would eventually have to be told, he grinned against Dean's mouth and gave him a firm push, the two of them stumbling together and until they tumbled backward onto the bed, Castiel on top of Dean, the two of them still holding onto each other as they fell.