"I think I found a case," James announces, getting Castiel and Emma's attention immediately. "Guy kills his wife, claims he has no memory of it."

"So he's playing dumb," Emma deadpans. "What, you expecting him to just confess to murder?"

"That's the thing; he's not saying he didn't," James says. "Happened in public. There's video proof. There's a witness. Cops found him unconscious, holding the murder weapon. He's not trying to fight it. He's willing to accept he did it; he's just saying he doesn't remember it."

"Maybe he's going for the insanity plea," Emma suggests.

"Maybe," James allows, "but if he is, that's probably not gonna work, so he has a pretty shitty lawyer."

"It's worth taking a look," Castiel says. "Where is it?"

"Uh..." James scrolls through the article. "Looks like it was in Maine."

Emma groans dramatically. "But it's gonna take all day to get there."

"You're absolutely right," James deadpans. "We should just stay here and let other people die because driving takes too long."

"We don't even know if this is a case," Emma whines. "No one else is probably even gonna die."

"But this really looks like a case," James insists. "Castiel, tell her that this is a good idea."

"I do agree," Castiel says, "however, having been alive for thousands of years, a one day drive does not feel very long."

"Well, he still thinks it's a good idea," James says. "So it's two against one. We're going."

Emma groans dramatically. "Fine." She pushes herself to her feet. "But if we're gonna be stuck in a car all day, I'm wearing sweatpants and fuzzy socks and y'all can't stop me."

~~

Apparently, not everyone drives as quickly as Dean, because it really does take a combined total of about 24 hours to get there, with a nice break at the motel for a few hours that night. They don't get to Maine until late in the afternoon, when it's too late to do very much, so they stop by a motel for the night.

Emma heads straight to bed, though not to sleep — she just lies down and stares at her phone. Castiel had almost forgotten that phones could have games on them. He'd never played any himself, with the exception of a couple that Dean had tried and failed to teach him when he first got a cell phone. Dean never stopped playing them, though, even when everyone else was sick of them. He used to play Words With Friends with Mary —

Mary.

Castiel had tried not to think of her since she died. That really was the straw that broke the camel's back. Jack could have killed just about anyone, and Dean wouldn't have cared as much as he did that the kid killed Mary. Hell, Jack probably could have killed Castiel himself and Dean wouldn't have been as upset. For someone who claims family doesn't end in blood, he sure does put his blood relatives on a pedestal.

"Boop the snoot."

Castiel is brought back to reality by Emma tapping his nose. She and James burst out laughing, though whether it's at the so-called "boop" or the confused look on Castiel's face afterwards, he doesn't know.

"Physically, you are here," James says. "Mentally, you're on a vacation to the Bahamas, and I'm kinda jealous, not gonna lie."

Castiel cocks his head to the side. "But I've never been to the Bahamas."

Emma shakes her head, amused. "You're so accidentally entertaining and I love it."

"Thank you?" Castiel says uncertainly.

"Well, now that you're back from your island vacation," James says, "Emma and I have been talking about what we're gonna do next for, like, ten minutes, and something tells me you haven't heard a word."

"That would be correct," Castiel admits sheepishly.

"Well, SparkNotes version," Emma says, "I'm gonna order pizza for dinner, and then we'll hit up the police station tomorrow, talk to the killer and the witness and see what's up."

Castiel just nods. That seems fairly self explanatory — minus the pizza, but that didn't seem like the main focus of the plan — but he's not surprised; he's noticed hunters tend to plan the obvious.

"Do you want pizza?" Emma asks.

"I'm an angel; I don't eat."

"Well, duh, I kinda guessed that," she says. "But just because you don't have to eat doesn't mean you can't eat."

"There would be no point in it," Castiel says.

Emma scoffs. "No point in eating pizza? As if pizza is not the most delicious food on the planet?"

"It just tastes like molecules to me," Castiel replies.

"What does that even mean?" James asks.

"An angel's taste buds don't work the same way as a human's," Castiel explains. As an afterthought, he adds, "Although I do remember it used to taste very good." There was a pizza store near the gas station he worked at when he was human, and he went there once or twice when he had a little extra money to spend.

"I'm so confused," James says. "You can't taste pizza, but you used to think it tasted good? Either this doesn't add up, or I'm missing something very important."

"Angels didn't used to be human, did they?" Emma asks. "It's not like vampires and werewolves or whatever?"

"No, but I do find the idea of grace passing from angel to human through an angelic bite rather entertaining," Castiel says with a chuckle. "No, my grace was stolen a few years ago, so I had to eat like a human. Pizza tasted very good."

"If the Winchesters didn't share all their favorite foods with you, I'm going to track them down and fight them," Emma says. "There's too much food in the world for you to figure out what's worth shoving your face with and what's not."

"Oh, no, the Winchesters were dealing with their own stuff," Castiel said. "I had to leave." Realizing this is just going to make the Winchester look worse than they already do, he adds, "But it was okay. I worked at a gas station. They had nice slushies."

"I'm sorry, you're telling me your grace was stolen, and the Winchesters kicked you out?" Emma scoffs. "Now I really do want to track them down and fight them. Holy shit, man."

"Well, it was a lot more complicated than that," Castiel says. "Dean was trying to save Sam's life —"

"And, what, you couldn't help him?" Emma asks. "He wouldn't even let you try?"

"He had asked another angel for help," Castiel explains. "That angel wouldn't let me near him, because he wasn't who he said he was and I could have exposed him."

"So they replaced you, is basically what you're saying," Emma says. "When they realized you weren't as useful as you used to be, they replaced you with someone who was."

"They..." He trails off. The Winchesters weren't like that. He knows they weren't. So why can't he come up with a way to defend them? The worst part of it is that he can't even pinpoint where she's wrong. The more he thinks about it, the less sure he is that she even is wrong. Sure, it was to save Sam's life, but Castiel was just as likely to die on his own as a human, constantly hunted by his fallen siblings, as Sam was in his situation. It's no surprise Dean chose Sam over him, though. He always puts Sam first. Castiel never stood a chance.

"Well, rest assured," James says, "if someone somehow steals your grace again, you won't even have the chance to leave, because I guarantee Emma will shove as much food at you as physically possible."

"Damn right I will," Emma says proudly.

Castiel chuckles. "I appreciate that." Partially because he misses food, but mostly because if he had to deal with being human again with no friends or family and no chance of ever seeing them again, he may take the very human action of killing himself. In a noble way, of course — hunting, probably; trying to do some good on his way out. But hopelessness and mortality are not a pleasant combination, and certainly not one he'd like to experience.

"Well, as fascinating as Emma's desire to fight the Winchesters is," James says, "I'm actually really freaking hungry, so I'm gonna order that pizza now."

"Thank god," Emma says. "Can't plan the Winchesters' murders on an empty stomach."