Phew! It's been around 2 years or so, huh? I kid you not, not a day went by that I didn't feel guilty for not updating! I've been so busy that I never got the energy to write more, but I finally got to it just a few days ago! I know I say this all the time, but I'm going to try to be more frequent at posting chapters.

Here is a quick reminder! "***" signifies a time skip, "xxx" signifies a POV change!

NOTE: there is a POV shift since the last chapter.

Chapter 15: Not a Part of the Club Scene

"Thank god!"

"What is it?" Sam had just gotten back from asking around, and upon him closing the door behind him and stating that he got nothin', I got a text from Cas.

{ Text: Cas } can I call? got something that you'll wanna hear about

{ Text: Me } hell yeah you can

But before he could even hit the dial button, I was already doing it. It rang once and then I heard that low voice greet me on the other end of the line. "Hello?" he answered, sounding almost confused; probably wondering how I reached him so quickly.

"Yo, Cas! What's the scoop?" I asked excitedly with Sam at the seat by my side. He gestured for me to put the call on speakerphone so he could listen, to which I rolled my eyes but complied anyway. "You're on speaker."

"Hey, Cas!" Sam called out, sitting at the edge of his seat, the anticipating killing him probably as much as it did me.

"Oh, hello, you two. Uh-yeah, so I found something that I think will help us on our search for Bela."

"The Thief of Hell," I corrected him. I sensed some tension on the other side of the line, silence taking over for what felt like forever.

Sam was the first one to break the silence. "Anyway, what's the info?"

"Right," Cas finally responded, sounding more relaxed now. "Well, I have come across some information regarding the mob boss Lucifer."

Sammy and I exchanged looks. "And what might that be?" I asked curiously. My brother and I instinctively leaned in closer to the phone that I was holding.

"Well, I had returned to the location of the old 'lair' and discovered a hidden room under a hatch. Found a file with a blueprint in it. I've come to believe that the new location of Lucifer and his minions are underneath a dance club that is around here," Cas explained dryly.

"What?!" I exclaimed, causing Sam to slightly jump out of surprise. He frowned at me but I waved him off before continuing to speak. "That is the most amazing piece of information you've given us so far, Cas! We have to go scope the place out, like, now!"

"O-oh, yeah?" He sounded rather concerned.

"I know you're not the clubbing type-hell, I'm not either-but we must go where our leads take us, yeah? Besides it is prime time for the club to have a lot of people. Makes it easier for us to disappear in the crowd." At this point, I was already standing up. "Go find yourself an outfit and meet us there in an hour. Oh, and text me the address! 'Kay, thanks!" Before he could even respond, I hung up and threw my phone onto the bed in front of me.

"Do we even have clothes that will make us fit in?" Sammy oh-so-predictably asked. He eyed me in a way that made me laugh. I walked over to the closet and opened it to see all those lovely flannel shirts that we owned, along with the suits we take with us whenever we are doing business. Nothing really fit the club-scene, but the dress shirt with dress pants seemed like a good middle ground.

I threw Sam's clothes at him, and to my pleasure and his dismay, they hit him square in the face. "Here ya go, Sammy! Go and change because we don't have that much time to spare!" I flashed him a grin and he rolled his eyes.

"Jerk," he said to me.

"Bitch," I retorted, the grin still on my face.

…

It was around an hour since my call with Castiel. Sammy and I were already at the club, scoping it out and pretending to have a good time. In all honesty, I thought that this place was going to be a little more… fun. The club was blasting EDM music that I felt like my ear drums were going to burst; I could feel the low rumble of the bass in my bones and it got trapped in my chest. The room itself was as dark as it could be, only neon lights throughout the room as well as glow sticks to light up the room.

I heard Sammy say something to me, but I couldn't make out a single word. I looked at him with a furrowed brow, shouting a what?! at him, but I don't think he even knew what I said. I moved in closer and motioned for him to speak into my ear.

"Do you know if Cas is here yet?" he practically yelled into my ear with his hands funneled around his mouth, and yet I barely made out what he said. I looked down at my phone and noticed the absence of notifications, causing me to let out a small sigh of frustration. I shook my head at Sammy, he shrugged, and we continued walking through the club, trying as hard as we could to fit in with the crowd.

Step one: go and buy a drink while we wait. Sounds like a good plan.

…

Castiel finally arrived after what felt like forever—Sam reminded me that it was only a half hour that had passed, which I completely ignored—and h seemed to have some sort of uncomfortable vibe following him wherever he went. Sure the dude is a little uptight, but this felt different. I approached him and brought my hand to his shoulder in greeting.

"Look who decided to show up," I joked while patting him on the back.

He looked at me with a confused expression on his face. "I told you I was going to be here—or, at least, you told me to come here, so I showed up." Unbelievable. Do jokes just go over this guy's head? Oh well. If we get some alcohol in him, I'm sure he'll loosen up a bit. Just… not as much as last time. He probably did not appreciate the hangover he got from that night. Wait… was that just last night? Honestly, nothing has really been happening to me these past few days so they've all been merging into—you know what? I'm rambling.

"Yeah, okay," I answered with a laugh and dragged him over to the bar where Sam was seated. "I found him," I stated with a victorious lift of my drink before sitting down on a seat away from my brother so Cas could be in between us.

"So… you said that this is… the place?" Sam asked. Cas took his seat and leaned his elbows against the marble of the bar top. He looked around to make sure that no one was listening and then lowered his voice as he spoke.

"I have reason to believe that there is a location beneath the floor of this club," he answered quietly.

"So the club is a front, yeah? That means we should look for a way down there," Sam interjected, leaning over to look at me. I nodded.

"Yeah, seems like we'll have to snoop around towards the back," I added, but I could tell that Castiel wasn't feeling it. He glanced over his shoulder, then at Sam, then at me. Our eyes locked, and I thought that maybe if I concentrated hard enough, his thoughts would spill out. I didn't have to stare for too long, though, because he explained his thought process soon after.

"Well," he started, "It's probably best we hang around the club as normal club…goers and find out everything we can about the people who work here, time-frames, and all of that good stuff." I had almost forgotten he was a cop until just now—his demeanor and speaking patterns changed when he got into "work-mode." It was—dare I say it?—rather cool to see happen. Despite wanting to go against what he said, I knew Sammy would also agree with him, and then I would be overruled. Well, and I thought it was a good idea as well, but that's besides the point.

xxx

Sam, Dean and I hung around the club for a little while, checking every corner and watching people as they went by so we could keep track of any traffic patterns that seemed abnormal. However, in order to fit in, we had to get up and dance every once in a while, as well as mingle. For someone like me, this part was the most anxiety inducing of them all. What I needed do was to push that part of me behind and find people to talk to. Thankfully, most people were more interested in dancing and didn't pay me much mind.

At one point, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and had to excuse myself from a raven-haired man that I was dancing with. I made my way off to one empty corner of the cramped room as I looked at my phone to see the name Crowley across the screen. I felt my pulse quicken as I was reminded of my constant double-agent anxiety. Clearing my throat and swallowing in some sad attempt to calm my nerves, I answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Cassie-dear!" Pause. "You still at the club with the Hardy Boys?"

"Yeah," I replied in disdain, "They still want to be here but I think we found every bit of information that we actually need."

"Were you able to convince them not to look underground?"

"Yes, we are only on the lookout in the club. Probably for the best that we go with Meg on our own," I said, lowering my voice even though the music was loud enough to drone out anyone's thoughts. "They seemed happy enough just to look around. Well, Dean at least. He seems to enjoy this kind of scene even though he doesn't entirely fit in himself…" I heard a chuckle coming from Crowley's end, and then I heard Meg say something in the background.

"Yeah, pretty-boy is on the line right now! We should be able to make our way in there later tonight, I think," he called out to her.

"No, we should wait until tomorrow or even the next day. I wouldn't want someone to see me again, snooping around the back." I heard Meg say something to Crowley but still could not make out what she had said. There was a back and forth between the two of them, making me tap my foot impatiently. I didn't want Dean to see me talking on the phone right now—I didn't need him to be suspicious of me. More suspicious, I should say. I've been noticing the way he looks at me whenever I lie about Crowley. I might just be paranoid, but I am worried that he is onto me.

"Guys?"

"Hey, Clarence," Meg's voice was now on the other line after a bit of fumbling, causing me to believe that she had forced the phone out of Crowley's hands. That thought made me smile gently.

"So we could probably show up in a couple of days. I think that people circulate through the club enough to where no one will really recognize you. Just don't wear anything that will make you stick out like a sore thumb."

…

It was the night that Meg, Crowley, and I coordinated to meet up at the club and snoop around, hopefully with the reward of the hideout being exposed. I was nervous but also excited because I would be off the hook if we took down Lucifer and his cronies, including Bela. Then, I could have my work and personal life separate once again. I had taken a liking to being Meg and Crowley's friend—friend… what a weird way to identify myself with these people—and I was hopeful that they wouldn't run off once everything was over. I wasn't sure why I felt a bit of nerves kick in when I wondered if Crowley would still want to spend time with me after he's successfully not guilty of being the Thief of Hell, even though you and I both know that he really is guilty. What was stopping me from turning him in after everyone else was taken care of, you ask? It's quite stupid, actually… but this is not the talk we should be having right now. Onwards with the story:

We all drove separately and dressed in "appropriate" attire for the club scene. Crowley insisted I spike my hair and put eyeliner on, which I begrudgingly did. I felt like a teenager who was a wannabe Goth-kid with no actual archetypes that would constitute me as such. I felt ridiculous, but as soon as I saw Meg and Crowley, I felt a little better. Still ridiculous, but only slightly less so.

Meg's curly hair was bigger than usual, and she had painted her face almost like that of a clown's. A form-fitting dress hugged her torso and she wore fishnet leggings with black heels. It felt inappropriate to even give a second glance to what she was wearing, so I kept my eyes even with hers. She noticed this immediately and laughed, punching my arm rather hard. "Oh, man! Cas, you're acting like a teenage boy who has never seen a girl dress nice before!" Her brash demeanor made me feel a bit better, because it reminded me of the friend that I had made with Crowley, rather than a "sexy girl" at a club.

Speaking of Crowley, he went more for the "frat boy" look, which made him look utterly ridiculous: gelled-back hair, polo shirt, shorts, and loafers. Oh my god, I thought to myself, eyes meeting Meg's, and I could tell that the both of us were thinking the same exact thing. We could not help the stifled laughter that threatened to escape our mouths, and I saw Crowley's eyes narrow at the two of us.

"Oh, all right! I'm not the only one who looks bloody stupid!" he protested, arms crossing over his chest. He gestured to Meg—"Party girl"—then at me—"Goth/emo kid! You have to admit we all look like we were taken right out of stereotypes."

"Okay," Meg replied, trying not to laugh, "but you're the one who basically made us do it. Plus, you asked for my advice, so that's your own damn fault!" She grinned at him and then punched his shoulder as well, causing Crowley to grimace in disdain. Soon after, however, he laughed as well. "I do have to say, we do all fit in," she then added, causing Crowley and I to look around at the crowd us and nod in silent agreement.

"Oh, whatever—we need to get on our mission anyway," Crowley finally said. He looked around one more time and then linked his arms into mine and Meg's, dragging the two of us away with him. That is, he tried to but then I saw someone I was not planning on seeing at the club that night.

"Cas? That you?"

Shit, shit, shit! I peeled myself away from Crowley and gave a gentle push so he and Meg would get lost into the crowd before they were recognized, to which they both gave me a confused look. I'll explain later, I tried to make my eyes say to them, and thankfully they disappeared. I think it worked, because by the time I made my way over, the man I had hoped not to see that night only seemed to have his eyes on me.

"H-hey, Dean! What's going on?"