The forest was quiet but for them. Both men were breathing ragged and gasping for air. Castiel let down his rifle in sync with Dean letting his arms drop to his side. "You're working with Crowley?" Castiel asked. Crowley had been a very elusive and sly criminal, having escaped capture and prison multiple times, and having taken many law enforcement officers' lives along with him.

Dean nodded as he wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve. "Yeah, and your pal Uriel ain't the only one in on it,"

Everything came into question by just a few words out of Dean's mouth. "But why?"

Thunder rumbled above them, and the sky grew darker. "It's a huge criminal ring, and you all make your money off of criminals." Castiel shook his head, as if to rid even the thought of it being true. The very thing he had vowed to, was a lie? "You really think your agent that walked in when I was in your office didn't know I was there?"

Rage filled Castiel and he could feel his face become hot. "She knew you were there?"

"I was talking to her outside before I came in."

Castiel exhaled sharp and backed up a few feet. He thought Dean was going to kill him that night and she had known he was there. The whole time he was setting up stake outs and giving her orders to relay to the other agents. Rain started to fall and it picked up from a mist to an all out monsoon in just under a minute, soaking them completely. "Come back to Sam's and get dry," Dean raised his voice over the sound of the storm. Castiel looked around and then back at Dean. He was skeptical that he wouldn't retrieve any information if he went back with him and would only have to fight off him and his brother. Against his better judgment, he wanted to know more of what Dean knew. It took them only a few minutes to walk back, entering through the back door of the house.

"Sam, get him a towel and something to drink," Dean said as they walked in. Sam was right there, towering over the both of them, and then he slipped away to grab what Dean asked. He was back in a moment with two towels and two glasses.

Dean took the glasses and set them down and handed Castiel a towel, who rubbed his head with it and draped it on his shoulder. Sam came back with a bottle of liquor and poured it in the glasses. "Sam, this is Castiel."

Sam nodded to which Cas returned. He was shortly about to arrest Sam Winchester and now he was standing in his kitchen accepting a drink from him. "Nice to meet you,"

"Likewise," Castiel said, forcing a smile. "The boy with the..public enemy as a brother,"

Dean glared back at Cas who shrugged. "Okay, Sammy, give us a minute to get caught up, will you?"

Sam gave a smile and turned, going down a hallway, and it was just him and Dean.

"You need to sit?" Dean asked, looking down at Cas' foot. Castiel limped past him, settling down on a chair in the living area. The fireplace was lit with a healthy fire, radiating heat into the house and drying his clothes almost as soon as he sat down.

Both men took long gulps of their drinks, letting it warm their insides. The storm outside had picked up. "So is the whole agency in on it?" Castiel asked.

"No," Dean replied, finishing his drink with another big sip. "No, not the whole agency," The fire crackled and grew. Suddenly his trenchcoat felt too heavy and hot. "I'm supposed to be meeting with Crowley and a few of his men to go over details of our next hit." Cas was watching Dean as he spoke. His face was orange from the light of the fire, and the house was unusually dark, probably because his agents had been on stake-outs many times in the last few weeks and Dean had noticed them every time.

"What am I supposed to do if they're in on it, they're not actually there to keep anyone safe?" Castiel asked.

Dean had an I-told-you-so look about him and said, "That's why if you really want to do good, I'd ride along and be sure no one does."

Cas looked at him incredulously. "You're suggesting I take part in your crime?"

The fire crackled again, sending sparks into the air. "Well, I mean you'd be doing it for good, kind of like me." He smiled big. "It's either that or get killed because they already wanted me to take you out."

Castiel could feel his nerves becoming frayed. His foot throbbing, and his almost healed nose was aching. The warmth of the room was lending him aid to the aches, but he was sweating now. He shrugged off his overcoat.

Dean could obviously sense he was uncomfortable, because he went and grabbed the bottle of liquor and filled up both their glasses. "Stay here tonight, we'll get out of town tomorrow and wait to meet up with Crowley."

Cas nodded, looking up at Dean as he poured his glass full. How the hell did he get to chasing this man down like he was the plague, to possibly working a crime with him? To keep people safe? The whole thing made his head spin. He didn't know where he was safe. For some reason Dean was keeping him alive, albeit a little broken and bruised. Castiel never would have questioned taking him down and taking him into custody, but now with the information that some of his agents were in on the whole thing made it much more difficult.

"I'm going to get cleaned up, just lay down down and put your foot up."

Cas did as he was told, and laid down, propping his foot up on the arm rest of the couch. The house was quiet. Sam and Jess must've also gone to bed, and no one came back out into the living room after Dean departed to the restroom. His mind was reeling with what had happened. The fact he was on Sam Wichester's couch while Dean was in the next room, and he wasn't arresting him, made him feel like a failure. He was going to need proof that his agents were going against him. After a few hours had passed, Castiel got up as quietly as he could and gathered his things. He decided to leave a note, to ensure he would see Dean again without going through so many obstacles.

Dean,

meet back here tomorrow night at 9pm

Castiel

He left the house and no one woke up. He made the walk back to his car, and made the hour and a half drive back to his office. He unlocked the door and threw his coat over one of the chairs, weaning his way through the desks until he got to Uriel's. He opened the top drawer and shuffled through the papers, looking for anything incriminating. The sky outside was just starting to lighten.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Castiel stopped, still hunched over the desk. Uriel was standing on the far side of the room. "I'm.. looking for the tips about Winchester you have." He straightened up.

The man took a few steps toward Cas. "You don't need any of the tips I've gotten, Chief." He pulled his gun from his jacket.

"What do you plan to do, Uriel? You won't get away with it."

Uriel smiled and walked closer. "You're the only one trying to play up this act of protect and serve. Some people deserve to be robbed, Castiel. Some people deserve to die."

On the far side of the room the door opened, and Crowley walked out with a younger dark haired woman behind him. Castel tensed up and cursed himself for always forgetting his gun in times of need. What a smart move to keep making. "If it isn't the pretty boy agent." He said, walking to stand next to Uriel. They looked at each other, and then, "Take him with us."

Uriel moved at his order and came up to Castiel, taking the butt of his pistol and hitting him across the head. Castiel stumbled backward, his hand grabbing his head before lunging himself at Uriel. They scuffled on the floor, both getting in decent hits at each other, before Uriel lifted the gun again and knocked him out.

Castiel came to in a dimly lit room. He shot up, his head spinning and his stomach threatening to empty all its contents. When he tried to get up, he was jolted back as the metal of the handcuffs around his wrist hit the furnance next to him. "Oh, fuck," he said, breathless, trying to loosen it without making noise. He let his hand fall to stop the noise and listened but there was no sound coming from outside the door. It wasn't until then he realized how much he was in over his head. One second he was thinking how crazy it was that he was in Sam's house, and now he was about to lose his life to Crowley, a man no one had been able to catch, or stop in the past.

Over the next hour he struggled to get his hand free, bending and almost slicing his thumb open. He hadn't heard a noise since he woke up. Crowley was supposed to meet up with Dean, maybe that's where he was. The cuffs never budged and the time seemed to stretch on. There was no one that knew he was here. It wouldn't have mattered if they did since he was most likely wanted by the bureau because of Uriel's lies and deceit. He thought he'd be in the room forever waiting to die until he heard a door finally open in the next room over. Footsteps led directly outside the door leading into the room Cas was being held and he braced himself against the wall, getting ready to have to fight for his life. The door opened and Dean was standing there. He never thought he'd be happy to see him.

"Dean," Cas breathed.

"Well, you've gotten yourself into a whole other world of bullshit, Cas, congratulations, you're doing well as a criminal so far," The joke was dry, and the look on Dean's face was not one of amusement.

Castiel didn't realize he was shaking until Dean bent down and grabbed his wrist. His throat was tight and he felt a lump sitting in his chest as Dean struggled to pick the lock of the handcuffs. Finally it opened with a pop, and he helped him to stand. "How did you know I was here?"

Dean looked away. "I didn't." It seemed as if he was holding back something to say, but Castiel didn't press on it. They both walked out of the house and Dean helped him into the passenger seat.

"I'm just driving. We can't go back to Sam's yet. Your boys were littered all around his house after you left." Dean said, flicking open his cigarette holder and grabbing one out, offering one to Castiel who took one and lit it. Dean kept glancing over, and asked, "Are you okay?"

There was a visible knot near his temple where he had been hit by Uriel, his foot was on fire and he couldn't put weight on it without clenching his teeth to deal with the pain. Old blood was crusted on his face and clothes. The bruises on his nose from Dean were fading but still leaving a significant dark purple and yellow hue, and his wrist was raw and bloodied from the handcuffs. "I'm fine," He contradicted his own apperance. Dean knew it wasn't true but he said nothing else. The road stretched on and like Dean had said, they did not stop. After a couple hours they had no choice but to refuel, and they chose where to stop carefully. Castiel got out of the car and tried shielding his face as he entered the restroom and cleaned up. He still looked like he had the shit beaten out of him, but at least his face was clean of blood. He walked back out while Dean was talking to the gas attendant who was clearly oblivious to who he was talking to.

"Alright there's a hotel up here, we're going to stop," Dean said as he got back in and started the car. "Get you out of those clothes for one."

The hotel was nice enough, and Dean deliberately parked the car in the back of the building. Once they were inside, Castiel changed into different clothes that Dean had which included almost the same exact white button down shirt, and black slacks. Now that he was clean he sat down to take a look at his foot. It was bruised and oozing blood but didn't nearly look as bad as it felt. He let out the breath he was holding in and cleaned it. After it was wrapped, he leaned back and closed his eyes. Dean was beside him, clinking glasses together as he pulled another chair over with his foot. "You shouldn't have gone back there, Cas," he said, pouring the glasses halfway with a dark brown liquor. The emotion in his voice was subtle..

"I had to," Cas picked up the glass and took a sip, grimacing at the burning liquid as it made its way down his throat and warmed his stomach. "I couldn't just take your word for it, I had to see it was true."

"Well, you believe me now?"

Castiel nodded. "Yes, I do."

They drank their drinks and took their respective beds. Dean was snoring before Castiel could even properly close his eyes, and when he did he felt every punch, gunshot, and unnerving stress he had felt within the last weeks. He opened his eyes and stared at Dean, sprawled out on the bed not under any sheet or blanket. He was sound asleep. Castiel didn't understand why he was keeping him safe but he was grateful, and his opinion on him was changing every day, as much as he didn't want it to. He had told him the truth, saved him from Crowley, and hadn't let him be alone since.

The night came and went and Castiel didn't get much sleep. Dean was up and already bringing things to the car before the sun rose. He didn't say anything as he came and went, only taking generous sips of his coffee each time. Before long he was done bringing their things to the car, and was looking over the map he had laid out on the bed.

A groan left Castiel's lips as he raised off the bed. His body was sore and his head was pounding. "Hey, sleepy head," Dean said, squinting as he followed a line on the map with his finger. Ironic since he barely got sleep.

"Morning," Castiel said, his voice rough.

"Your boys arrested Sam and Jess." Dean didn't look up from the map.

"Oh.." Fuck. "Great."

"We gotta break 'em out."

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?"

Dean folded up the map and slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket. "Yeah, Cas, we're breaking him out of jail. You're boy Uriel probably already put a hit on you. So, you really got nothing to lose." He hit the back of his hand on Castiel's arm as he walked passed him to the door.

"I…" Castiel didn't know how to respond. He turned and followed. The sky was shades of dark blue and pink, casting shadows off the black paint of the car. "I don't think I can–"

Dean turned on his heel. "Cas, you can. You will. You have nothing back there right now. They'll kill you. You wanna die? Your rogue agent is the one who is overseeing it all now that you're gone." With no answer he spun back around and got into the car. Cas got into the passenger side, not knowing how to respond. Dean was right and he didn't know how to say it. There were no more rules. The very people he trusted wanted their enemies to win.

After a few hours on the road, Castiel had fallen asleep and when he woke back up, they were still driving, surrounded by cornfields. "Where are we?"

"Ohio." Dean said, one hand on the wheel and the other fumbling with his cigarette holder. "Sam's at the penitentiary up here, about forty minutes away." His eyes found Cas for a moment before looking back at the road. "You get some okay sleep?"

Castiel nodded, pulling himself to sit straighter and rubbing his face. He actually did feel more rested than he had in weeks.

The rest of the drive went by fast and they were soon sitting in a parking lot a mile from the prison. Dean was scanning every car that passed, looking for agents or officers patrolling around. It would be stupid to pull off this heist in the daylight. Too many people would be able to recognize him. He turned the radio on to one of the broadcasts he always listened to for news bulletins. After a few short stories of local crime and business, he got what he was hoping to hear. It talked of Dean and how he was still at large and dangerous, describing his appearance and giving instruction of what to do if met face to face with him. Then,

"And another top story, Bureau of Investigation Chief Castiel Novak still missing, assumed dangerous and armed, proceed with caution, shoot on sight if necessary"

Castiel stared at the radio and back at Dean who was looking back at him, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't find words. "Well, that's good." Castiel said, looking bleakly into the distance. Now he was in a group completely different – the group of outlaws and criminals. Shoot on sight? What the hell did Uriel tell people Castiel did?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Right, stay here. I'm gonna go make a little perimeter sweep, and I'll be back."

Castiel grabbed Dean's sleeve as he was getting out. "Are you kidding me? What, you just want me to sit here?"

Dean's eyes flashed around for a second. "Uhh, yeah." He smiled.

"No." Castiel said sternly.

Dean sighed. "Listen, the less crime you're involved in is probably best right? Your gun is under your seat. You'll be good." And he slipped out of the car and started up the road. Castiel couldn't help to think how stupid he was to just be on foot like that, but that's why no one ever suspected him of just walking around amongst everyone else. Clever. An hour had passed and Castiel was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel after taking over the driver's seat. He didn't want to be caught and not be prepared. In the distance, he saw Dean walking back, his hair noticeably longer than when they first met, moving with the wind as it howled.

He climbed into the passenger seat. "Okay, let's go get coffee. We'll come back later." Another one of his smug smiles as he looked over at Castiel who had his brows raised in interest.

They went to the next town over, stopping at a small diner and grabbing newspapers to hide their faces as they sipped their coffee. Castiel poured his creamer in and stirred, looking up to find Dean watching him from above his paper.

"Yes?" Cas said, looking back down at his coffee.

"Nothing," Dean lifted his paper back to cover his face. "I just thought you were a coffee black kinda guy."

Castiel chuckled at this and Dean lowered his paper again to look at him. "What?" Dean asked.

"Nothing, just an odd observation to make about someone."

Dean shrugged. "Well, it's good to know details of someone." He lifted his coffee, black, to his lips and took a long sip.

Castiel narrowed his eyes, but didn't question it again. He read different articles in the news, trying to get his mind off his current situation. If he had known he'd be sitting here chatting with Dean Winchester over coffee, he would've just arrested himself. By the time they left the diner, the sun was setting, and the air was cooler as it hit their faces walking to the car. They got in and headed back to where they were parked earlier, except Dean deliberately parked the car further back in the parking lot, camouflaged by the foliage. "Alright Cas," Dean turned to him. "We gotta get on that roof. I made sure earlier we had access to get up there." He must have read his face because his next words were, "You'll be fine. Stay close to me."

Castiel blinked, looking down as Dean handed him more ammunition.

"You got your gun?"

He nodded.

"Good." Dean said. "Now come on."

They got out and started walking up the road. The moon was brighter than normal and helped illuminate their path. The penitentiary towered over them, and soon they were at the fence. Dean grabbed hold and started climbing up, shifting himself over the top and letting himself fall to his feet. Castiel followed, clenching his teeth as his foot was made to use more strength than it had.

"You're good, I'll help you down." Dean whispered. Cas wiggled himself over the top and started climbing down. As soon as he was low enough, Dean grabbed his arm and helped him to the ground. They jogged quietly around the building to a ladder. The wind was whipping both their hair visiciously, and Castiel could feel his eyes starting to water.

They both climbed the ladder until they were on the roof of the prison. The air was freezing cold. Castiel followed Dean until he stopped at a pile that Cas could barely make out in the night. "Rags?" He asked, confused.

Dean smiled back at him. "Rags covered in oil." He bent down and got out his zippo light, popping the top open and holding it to the rags. The flame went out and he did it again and then again. The fourth time the rags quickly caught fire. Cas could feel the heat hitting him from a few feet away. Dean grabbed his arm and led him back to the ladder. Once they were down, they sprinted toward the fence. Dean helped him over first, then came crashing down behind him a minute later. The fire had already started to engulf the roof.

"How do you know he'll get out?" Castiel was close to Dean, their shoulders touching.

"He will. Let's go."

The two drove away as the prison was engulfed in flames. Sirens sounded past them as they were close to the border of town, where they could see the smoke coming from the building. Dean drove them to another hotel and checked them in, mindful to keep their faces as concealed as possible. Both the men were exhausted as they listened to the radio, waiting to get any information on the prison. Castiel walked back to the living area from the kitchenette holding two beers and slid one to Dean. "Thanks," he said, popping the top and taking a long sip. Castiel did the same and sat next to him.

"Thanks for having my back," Even he was surprised to say it. Dean looked up at him, innocent and kind. He was handsome, and not as smug as Castiel once thought.

"You're welcome, Cas." He said and then took a healthy gulp of his beer.

Castiel had asked how Sam would find them, and apparently the two brothers had many plan Bs. If they were ever separated, there were different areas they agreed to meet up at. They would have to leave in the middle of the night, giving Sam a head start to get out and get a car. Now that they were not only wanted by the BOI because of Castiel's disappearance, and Dean's already long running standing as public enemy number one, Crowley was on them too. Dean had stolen a bargaining chip and he was going to want them both to pay for it.