Castiel Novak is pretty much your average cop. He and his partner Charlie Bradbury work in homicide, and they're damn good at what they do, if he may say so himself. They're in the midst of a pressing case — a shootout behind the mall a few nights ago that left three dead; it seems to be linked to the Hunters, a gang that is infamous for avoiding the law — but right now, it's time for food.

Castiel is picking up the tab today, but first, he needs some cash. His credit card has been acting up lately, and until his replacement comes in, he's stuck paying everything in cash. Fortunately, Charlie has no qualms about going to the bank before lunch as long as it saves her a few bucks, so that's what they do.

And then, because heaven forbid anything works out for them, the ATM is broken. Castiel groans. What the fuck, man?

"I can pay today and you can pay me back later," Charlie offers.

Castiel shakes his head. "You paid last time. C'mon, let's go bother the bank teller."

"M'kay," Charlie says.

Unfortunately, there's a line inside, so the two detectives have to stand back and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Charlie nudges his arm and whispers, "You know, Dean Winchester is probably out there threatening an execution right now."

"Probably," Castiel agrees.

"And here we are, waiting for a 20-dollar bill," Charlie says.

Castiel shrugs. "I'd take the boring life of a bank-visiting cop over that of a gang leader any day."

"Mm," Charlie hums, thinking. After a pause, she asks, "Do you think he ever goes to banks? I mean, no one knows what he looks like. I'm sure he could get away with it if he wanted to."

Castiel shrugs. "Probably."

"I mean, he could be in this bank with us right now," Charlie continues.

Castiel knows for a fact that he's not in this bank right now, but that doesn't seem like the right response right now. Instead, he just says, "Well, at least then we could take him into questioning."

"Which would be great if we could book him on anything," Charlie mutters. "The guy's just too good."

"We'll get him one day," Castiel says, though he doesn't believe it at all. If anyone's gonna find out where the Hunters are, it's going to be narcotics, not homicide that does it.

"A girl can dream," Charlie says.

The two chat for a few minutes while they wait for the line to move. They could probably take the time to discuss the case, but it's more fun to just talk about life. They have the rest of the day to talk about work. Right now, they want to talk about Charlie's new cat, Bubbles, who is apparently a pain in the fucking ass.

"He ripped my cushion in half," Charlie whispers. "Literally in half. He was sitting inside the fucking cushion."

"He's just a —"

"I thought it was a possum!" Charlie squeaks. "I was —"

Castiel throws a hand over her mouth, looking around to make sure no one is staring (they are). "Charlie, no screaming in the fucking bank."

"Shit, sorry," Charlie whispers.

Castiel takes his hand back. "For the record, I want to give Bubbles a high five."

"He's destroying my entire house," Charlie says. "My entire fucking house."

Castiel pats her on the back in mock sympathy. "And that's why I love him."

Charlie slaps him in the shoulder. "Fuck you very fucking much."

Castiel slaps her back. "Right back at you."

"Right back at you," Charlie says, slapping him back.

"Okay, now people are probably staring at us," Castiel says, as if people hadn't been staring at them already.

He glances around, and, just as he'd suspected, half the bank is still watching him. Hell, even the people who have just gotten here are —

Shit.

"We have to go," Castiel says, keeping his voice low. If he starts a panic, they'll lose their chance to leave, and he is not risking it.

"Dude, relax," Charlie says, rolling her eyes. "It's not the first time people have stared at us and it won't be the last."

"No, we really have to go," Castiel insists. He puts a hand on her back, trying to subtly push her out of line. He's not sure he expects to make it to the door, but he can hope.

Charlie raises an eyebrow. "What's gotten into you?"

"I just..." He risks another glance behind himself. "I don't feel good. Can we please leave?"

"Oh, man, yeah, 'course," Charlie says, instantly far more sympathetic. She puts an arm around him as if ready to help him walk out. He really doesn't need her help, but now is not the time to argue. "Do you wanna head back to the station?"

"I don't care," Castiel says. "I just want to get out of here."

"Alright, c'mon."

They barely make it two steps before the first gunshot goes off. In the midst of all the screams, the most Castiel can muster is a sigh. He was really hoping they'd make it out of here before this went down so they could call in backup.

The man with the gun holds it in the air and lets off another shot, followed by a loud, "Everybody shut up!"

Instantly, the room goes silent. Castiel ducks his head, trying to obscure his face. A subtle glance around shows two men at both doors, each one armed. Well, they're fucked.

"This is a robbery, not a hostage situation," the man declares. "With that said, you're all gonna stay right here until we get what we want and get out of here, and I will not hesitate to shoot anyone who doesn't listen. Capiche?"

Needless to say, no one says a word.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" he says. "Alright, gimme your phones." He walks over and pats the counter. "Put 'em here. All of you. You can have 'em back when we're gone."

Everyone looks around nervously. Castiel risks a glance up at Charlie out of the corner of his eye, his head still ducked, and she gives him a wary look. God, the one time they leave their guns in the car...

"C'mon, don't be shy," the man says. "Phones. Lemme see 'em."

Slowly, people begin to trickle up to the counter. Castiel wishes he could help them, to try to calm them down. He's sure even just taking the lead by putting his phone on the counter first would have made them more comfortable. He's a cop, after all; taking charge and de-escalating situations is part of his job. Unfortunately, that may be the worst possible course of action right now. He doesn't want to draw any more attention to himself than necessary.

"There we go," the man says. "Don't want anyone calling the cops, now, do we?"

Castiel glances down at Charlie, who gulps. However freaked she is, he has a feeling he's got it worse.

"Not," the man continues, walking around slowly, "that the cops don't already know we're here."

"How would they know?" one of the men asks. He doesn't sound nervous, but Castiel is sure he is. He wants to look around, figure out who it is, but he forces himself to keep his head down.

"Because," the man says, "there's a cop here right now."

Castiel swallows hard, but otherwise, he doesn't react. Maybe it's not him. Maybe someone here other than him or Charlie is —

The man slips his gun under Castiel's chin and gently raises his head, and Castiel is forced to meet his gaze. "Hey, babe."

Castiel narrows his eyes. "Hi, Dean."

Charlie gives a small gasp. Neither man pays attention to it.

"What, no kiss?" Dean asks with a playful smirk.

Castiel doesn't answer. He reaches for the gun, but Dean grabs his wrist before he can get it. Dean tucks his gun in his holster, but his other hand doesn't drop from Castiel's arm. He's uncomfortably aware of the fact that they're only inches away from each other, but he can't bring himself to try to step away.

"You know," Dean says, "I really wasn't expecting to run into you here."

"Guess you should come back later and try again," Castiel replies.

Dean clicks his tongue. "Sorry, sweetheart, but we're kinda in the middle of something. Can't back out now." He holds a hand out. "Phone?"

"No."

Dean chuckles. "Alright, alright, I get it." He drops the man's wrist and reaches into his trench coat pocket, finding his cellphone with ease. He makes a show of studying it. "Not even the latest model." He shakes his head. "Cas, babe, what happened to you?"

CastieI grits his teeth and remains silent. He's not going to give him the satisfaction. He's done far too much of that.

But then Dean turns his attention to Charlie, and Castiel immediately regrets that. He would have given Dean all the satisfaction in the world if it would have kept his attention away from his partner. Charlie didn't ask to be dragged into this.

"And who might you be?" Dean asks. "You seem..." He eyes them and their close proximity. "Very close."

"I'm —"

"No one," Castiel interrupts, keeping his voice as level as he can. It works surprisingly well. "You're here for a reason. Do your thing and disappear. It's what you do best."

Dean chuckles. "Ordinarily, yes, but now I'm intrigued." He looks up at the two men guarding the fire exit. "Ketch, go take care of it for me, will you?"

"On it."

Dean looks back at CastieI, who doesn't hesitate to meet his eye again. This time there's a challenge in his gaze — one that Dean is either oblivious to or just good at pretending he is. Castiel has a feeling it's the latter.

"Ketch?" Castiel says, an eyebrow cocked. He's sure his tone says all the man needs to know.

Dean shrugs. "You've been gone a long time, Cas. I had to find someone new — someone I could trust."

Castiel winces at that, glancing down at Charlie almost instinctively. That was a little too much information, venturing into territory that Charlie was never supposed to see. She's masking her emotions surprisingly well, which would be fine if it didn't leave him in the dark about how she feels about him now. He's sure she has a lot of questions, but she's not letting it show.

Dean looks between them, a small smirk in his lips. "She doesn't know, does she?" He chuckles to himself. "Oh, sweetie..." He taps Charlie's nose with his pointer finger. "You guys are gonna have a very fun conversation after this."

Castiel clears his throat, and Dean looks back at him, his smirk as annoying as ever. As long as it's directed at him and not Charlie, though, he's okay with it.

"What are you looking for?" Castiel asks him.

Dean shakes his head. "Sorry, babe. I don't talk to cops."

"And yet, here you are," Castiel deadpans.

Dean chuckles dryly. "And yet, here I am."

CastieI is acutely aware of the fact that this is a very rare opportunity. When Dean says he doesn't talk to cops, he sure as hell means it. It's not something he can let pass him by.

"Just tell me one thing," Castiel says.

Dean crosses his arms. "Depends what you wanna know."

"Tuesday night."

Dean's demeanor shifts immediately, a much more serious air surrounding him. He doesn't answer at first, and when he finally does, all he says is, "I took care of it."

"You can't play judge, jury, and executioner," Castiel tells him.

"Watch me."

CastieI fights the urge to roll his eyes. "Who was it and what did you do to them?"

"Jack, Claire, and Alex, and you don't need to know," Dean replies, a hint of defiance in his voice. That's not what he's focused on.

"Tell me you're lying," Castiel says. "Tell me you're just trying to mess with me."

He doesn't.

"Dean, they're fucking children!" CastieI practically yells.

"They're 15 and 16," Dean snaps. "They're old enough to know better and they're old enough to deal with the consequences."

"Dean, you can't —"

"Now one of our own is dead and we've got cops sniffing around, so yeah, Cas, I sure as hell can," Dean growls.

CastieI cocks his head to the side. "Only one?" Ordinarily, hearing about the death of a teenager wouldn't be a relief, but compared to the deaths of three... Well, it's not not a relief, at least.

Dean snorts. "No, Cas, I didn't kill them. They fucked up, but it's not like they committed treason. It's not like they deserted us." He gives Cas a shove with that, and it stings more than he cares to admit.

"And which one didn't make it?" CastieI asks, though admittedly, he's not sure he wants to know.

"Alex," Dean says, and Castiel flinches. "I'd say I'm surprised you didn't recognize the body, but..."

CastieI ignores that. "If you give us Jack and Claire —"

"If I gave you Jack and Claire, I'd have to move the whole operation again," Dean says. "You know how hard that was last t— oh, wait, no, you don't."

"Dean —"

"I'm not giving up my people," he snaps. "I know loyalty is a bit of a foreign concept to you, but for some of us, loyalty is all we have."

"Loyalty and the blood on your hands."

Dean grits his teeth and storms away. Castiel lets out a quiet sigh of relief. At least he's not dead. He's not sure he'll still be able to say that by the time Dean is done here, but for now, he's still breathing.

Dean heads for the room with the lockboxes. That must be where he sent Ketch. It will be interesting to hear what goes missing. Castiel can't imagine what they'd be looking for back there. He doesn't picture any of the Hunters storing their own shit in a bank, and this would be a little overkill for a simple withdrawal.

"Cas," Charlie says quietly, "what the hell was that?"

"My worst nightmare," Castiel deadpans. "Thanks for noticing."

"Cas —"

"I'll explain everything when this is over," Castiel whispers. Maybe he'll get lucky and die before that time comes.

"No, please, explain now," one of the men by the front door says. "I would love to hear this."

"Fuck off, Benny," Castiel snaps.

"Make me."

CastieI shoots him a glare. The two of them barely refrained from killing each other when they were on the same side. It's infinitely harder not to walk over and smack him now that they don't even have that going for them.

Dean walks back into the room, Ketch and a bank teller behind him. If they stole something, they're doing a damn good job at hiding it. Castiel eyes them closely, but he can't find a goddamn thing to give them away.

"We're out of here," Dean says. He waves his pistol towards the door, signalling for his men that it's time to leave. He walks up to Castiel and rests the barrel of his gun against his forehead.

Castiel doesn't even flinch. He looks up at Dean, his chin raises defiantly. If he's gonna do it, he's gonna do it. The best CastieI can do is go out with pride.

Dean cracks a small smile and lowers his gun to his side. "'Til next time."

"If there is a next time," Castiel says, "it'll end with you in handcuffs."

Dean chuckles. "Oh, Cas. Always a flirt." He cups the man's cheek with his hand and presses a brief kiss to his lips. Castiel shudders, but he forces himself not to do anything more. Dean's just trying to get a reaction out of him.

Dean lets his hand brush against Castiel's face as he walks away. Ketch follows him, as does the other man guarding the fire exit — Mick, it seems. He's gotten a lot older since the last time they met, but not unrecognizably so.

Unlike Benny and Crowley who are already by the front door, Mick and Ketch have to walk by him to leave. Ketch barely glances his way, but Mick offers him an almost sympathetic smile. Castiel responds with a small nod. Under different circumstances, it almost could have been nice to see him again, and it's oddly comforting to see that the feeling seems to be mutual.

"Oh, right," Dean says.

Castiel turns around to look at him. He's standing in the door with a hand in his pocket. He pulls out Castiel's phone and tosses it to him. For a throw with his left hand, it's surprisingly well-aimed, and Castiel grabs it with ease.

"Now you can call the cops," Dean says. With a teasing smile, he adds, "Have fun explaining this to 'em."

And then he's gone, leaving a mess of a man behind.