CastieI is a little reluctant to leave Jack home alone on Monday. Even with his crutches that help him get around on his own, he's still not completely independent, no matter how hard he tries to be. It's hard to carry things with crutches, for one; if he tries too hard to act like a fully-functioning human being, he's doubtlessly going to drop something.

By Thursday, though, he leaves the kid alone with no hesitation. He's been doing fine on his own (as long as he doesn't have to leave the house; he turned down a ride to the pizza place the night before because going outside still makes him anxious), and he's really made himself at home.

There are no new cases to work on, so Castiel and Charlie sit at their desks, dotting the i's and crossing the t's of some old cases. They've yet to find a break in a case, but that hasn't stopped them from making calls and sending emails in a lame attempt to accomplish something.

Having a desk next to his partner is a blessing and a curse. It's hard to get anything done when she keeps sliding over to crack a stupid joke every few minutes, but it does keep him entertained during an otherwise-boring work week.

The bustling of someone — presumably a new suspect — being dragged in only takes his attention off his work for the briefest moment. It's nice that someone's accomplishing something, but if it's not him, he doesn't particularly care. He has his own work to focus on.

"Oh, hey, is that Cas?"

Castiel's head snaps up at the sound of that voice. There's no way. Is that...?

Flanked by an officer on both sides, Dean is walking down the hall with his hands cuffed behind his back. Despite what has to be a pretty shitty situation for him, he seems to be in good spirits as he walks by, a smile on his face. He's still being escorted by, but he keeps his gaze on Castiel as he does.

CastieI doesn't have to look around to know that all eyes are on him. He really feels like he has to do something, but this is such an unprecedented turn of events that he had no idea what to do. Without really thinking about it because he sure as hell doesn't have enough time to do that, he just flips the guy off and turns his attention back to his work. There are a few quiet laughs, most notably from Dean, and then things go back to normal.

Mostly.

Charlie subtly wheels herself over to his side. "Is that Dean Winchester?"

Castiel heaves a dramatic sigh. "Yes, Charlie. Yes it is."

"And you're sure that's not the Target dude?" they ask.

Well, it's a little late to keep up that ruse. "No, I'm really not."

"I knew it," she whispers. "I can't believe they finally caught him. It's been years since they started looking for him. You think they're gonna nail him on something?"

In a perfect world, the only thing that would be nailing him is CastieI.

"Depends how good his lawyer is," CastieI says with a shrug that he really hopes looks carefree.

Castiel is acutely aware of the fact that Dean could easily implicate him in a lot of crimes. They did a lot of shit growing up, and though it was mostly harmless (at least in Castiel's case; he won't deny that Dean has done worse things but they were almost always justified), it was still illegal. And that doesn't even take into consideration all the times Castiel's stuck his neck out for the Hunters in the last year or so.

He'd like to think Dean wouldn't do that, but he can't know for sure. The guy could be facing a lot of prison time, depending on what the cops can prove. Implicating others might be the only get-out-of-jail-free card he'll get.

"In that case, I hope his lawyer fucking sucks," Charlie says.

"Yeah," Castiel says halfheartedly. "That'll be great."

Charlie frowns. "That wouldn't be great, would it?"

CastieI sighs. "I don't know." He just... he hates the idea of Dean going to prison. Dean is not a bad person, no matter what his reputation may say. He's broken the law more times that Castiel can count, but he's still a good person. He doesn't deserve this.

Charlie pats him in the back sympathetically. "Well, whatever happens, I hope it works out for you."

It does not, in fact, work out for him.

At least, that's the vibe he's getting when a few hours later, Jody calls him into her office.

Fuck.

Castiel forces a polite smile as she shuts the door behind them. "What can I help you with?"

"I'm assuming you're aware that we have Dean Winchester in custody?" Jody asks.

Castiel just nods. Oh, yes, he is very aware. It's the only thing he's been able to think about since he saw the guy.

"Well, he won't talk," Jody says.

"Okay...?" Of course he won't talk. He's not going to snitch on himself. It's not the first time someone's refused to talk and it won't be the last. What's her deal?

"And we're not sure we have a case if he doesn't give us something," Jody says. "The most we know we have him on is bringing a gun to Target — which was him, by the way."

"Yeah, sorry," he mumbles. At least she doesn't seem upset that he "was wrong" about that.

"Ryan and Esposito have been at it on and off for hours, and all they've got to show for it is a plethora of sarcastic comments," Jody tells him.

"Well, congrats; that's as Dean Winchester as you can get," CastieI says. "Why are you telling me?" If Dean wants to mouth off at the cops, power to him. He doesn't owe it to them to be on his best behavior.

"I know you two have... history," Jody says. "I was hoping you could talk to him, try to get something out of him."

CastieI scoffs. "Yeah, I can get you something — more swears and sarcasm." Hell, he's not even sure he can get that. Dean might be smart enough to keep his mouth shut then, too.

"Will you at least try?" she asks. "He won't talk and he won't even consider a plea deal. You're about all we've got left."

Well, that bodes well for Dean's freedom, at least. If he won't confess to anything and he won't give them anything to work with, he's bound to be home free soon. Jody was right: the cops really don't have much on him -- that they can prove, anyway. It's not something he can celebrate in front of the chief, though, so instead, his only answer is, "I wouldn't even know what to say. Something tells me that asking for a list of his crimes isn't going to work."

"I don't care what you say," Jody says. "Anything that gets him to even hint at his involvement with anything. Ryan and Esposito can take it from there. You just have to get him talking. If you treat him like you're a friend, not a cop, maybe he'll drop his guard."

CastieI hesitates. He really doesn't want to do this. He's not too worried that Dean will say or do anything to get himself in trouble, but he might say something that will get CastieI in trouble. At the very least, he's sure anyone watching would think differently of him afterwards. But with Jody asking, he doesn't really feel like he can say no. She is his boss, after all.

"Anything he says about me stays between us, right?" CastieI asks.

"Of course," Jody assures him. "You're not the one I want behind bars."

Not yet, anyway.

CastieI fights back a sigh. "Then fine, I'll talk to him. Just don't get your hopes up."

"Thank you."

So, with no other choice, he lets Jody lead him to the interrogation room. He finds himself hesitating with his hand on the doorknob, though he knows he doesn't have a choice. He just wishes he knew what to expect. Even that glimpse of his cheerful face a few hours ago doesn't help; after hours of sitting in interrogation, that may have faded.

He's not even sure Dean's mood matters. Whether he's playful or hostile about it, there's still a chance he'll say something incriminating about one (or both) of them. Unless he makes the most of his right to remain silent, there's a decent chance this won't end well (at least for Castiel's emotional wellbeing).

He pushes that thought out of the way and opens the door. Here goes nothing.

Dean is sitting at the table, his cuffed hands resting in his lap and his feet up on the table. He'd just looked bored at first; when he sees Castiel's face, he grins. He drops his feet back to the ground and raises his hand in a wave, the other one drooping below because, again, they're handcuffed together. He's not sure if Dean didn't think that through or if he just didn't care.

"Well, would you look at that?" Castiel gently closes the door behind him. "Dean Winchester in handcuffs. What a sight to behold."

"Ah, come on, Cas," Dean says with a playful smirk. "If you wanted to see me all tied up, you could've just asked."

Castiel chuckles in spite of himself. He makes his way to the man, and he really hopes it looks more confident than he feels. "So, what'd they finally get you on?" He glances at the one-way mirror out of the corner of his eye. He's sure Dean knows; he just wants to remind him in case he's thinking of saying something stupid.

Fortunately, Dean's answer is a simple, "Hopefully nothing." He shrugs. "I'd like to think I'll be walking out of here in, what, 45 hours?"

That's an impressively close estimate of how long he's been here. They're legally required to let him go after 48 hours if they don't have anything on him, though with the weapons charge, Castiel's not sure that applies. He opts not to mention it.

He takes a seat on Dean's side of the table. With anyone else, he'd be a lot more formal about this, but Jody wants him to act like a friend. This seems friendly to him.

"Hey, since it's just us, you mind taking these things off?" Dean holds his hands up and shakes the chain of the handcuffs. "They're driving me up the freakin' wall."

Castiel reaches into the bottom pockets of his trenchcoat. Nothing there. He slips his hands into his pants pockets, and his right hand clasps around a little piece of metal. He pulls it out and looks at it. It's a nice paperclip. It's a good thing he has a million more.

Castiel tosses it to him, and Dean catches it with ease. "I'm not your mom; do it yourself."

Dean chuckles. "Works for me." He straightens it out with his teeth, and, with a little maneuvering, he manages to get it in the key slot. Castiel watches, amused. He knows Dean will be able to get himself free, but it doesn't make it any less fun to watch him struggle.

Sure enough, he pops them off, one side at a time. He drops them on the table and slides them away from himself, then hands Castiel his paperclip back.

"Better?" CastieI asks.

Dean rolls his wrists out in front of him. "Much." He looks up at the other man. "So, whatcha doing here?"

Castiel shrugs. "Got bored, heard they were leaving you to stew for a while. Figured I'd pop in."

Dean grins. "My hero, here and to save me from this neverending boredom."

"That's what I'm here for," Castiel replies. He'd like to think Dean knows that's not true in the slightest, but he's doing a pretty good job pretending he doesn't. "You make your phone call yet?" He'd be interested to hear who it went to.

Dean shakes his head. "Don't wanna waste it."

"So you don't know who you're calling?"

"Not a clue," Dean replies. "Do you think you could get me Sam's number? It might be nice to have a lawyer."

Castiel raises an eyebrow. "You know Sam would just laugh in your face, right?"

"Of course I know that," Dean says with an amused smile. "But he's also the only lawyer I know, and I really don't trust DAs."

"Oh, god, you shouldn't," Castiel mutters. They're fucking stupid. "I could definitely get you his number if you don't mind the hit your ego's gonna take."

"Well, maybe my ego needs it," Dean says. "But not 'til later. I wanna enjoy our quality time together while I can."

Castiel snorts. Well, it looks like he was right: all he's getting from this is sarcasm. "Well, it's either talk to you or do actual work. I think I'll stick with this." He shifts on the table and crosses his ankles in front of him. "So, how'd they finally get you?"

"Apparently I look a lot like a guy from some Target video?" Dean shrugs. "Didn't realize they were still looking for him. You learn something new every day."

Just for Jody's sake, Castiel asks, "And are you the guy from the 'Target video'?"

Dean makes a show of looking around. "Weird. I swear I just heard a question that only my lawyer will get an answer to, but I can't seem to find my lawyer anywhere."

Castiel rolls his eyes. Well, that about sums it up: Dean's not going to spill anything and Jody knows it. He has a feeling she'll be at the door any minute now to thank him for giving it a try. He just has to keep the conversation going until then.

"Did they end up in Hunter territory?" he asks. "I didn't think there were any high-priority cases with you guys." He'd thought Ryan and Esposito had moved on to new cases. It's been months since the Target thing; that should have been on the back burner. They wouldn't have much of a reason to be anywhere near the Hunters.

"They found me at McDonald's, actually," Dean says. "Didn't even let me finish my fries." He clicks his tongue. "Not the nicest guys, I'll tell you that."

CastieI raises an eyebrow. "You were at McDonald's?" If he was going to eat out anywhere, he'd assumed it would be somewhere with higher-quality burgers.

"Hey, what's wrong with McDonald's?" Dean asks indignantly.

Castiel just looks at him, eyebrow still raised.

Dean sighs dramatically. "I'm still looking for my pseudo-son. That's the last place I know he was going."

"Your pseudo-son?" Castiel repeats, amused.

"Yeah, my pseudo-son," Dean says. "What, you think I'm gonna name names in a police station? Not a chance."

Castiel bites back a laugh. "Well, I'm sure your pseudo-son would be thrilled to hear you call him that."

"Which is why I'm never going to tell him." Dean pauses. "He hasn't been brought here, has he? You don't have him locked up somewhere?"

Castiel scoffs. "For what? Being too nice? That's not exactly a crime."

"You know 'for what,'" Dean says, his mood suddenly much darker. It looks like that's the end of their lighthearted conversation. "Seriously, Cas, you gotta level with me. He's been gone since Friday and he won't pick up the phone. If he's here, you gotta tell me."

"He's not," Castiel assures him.

"Fuck," Dean mutters under his breath.

"That's..." Castiel cocks his head to the side. "That's a bad thing?"

"Yes, it's a bad thing!" Dean says. "It's been almost a week and there's no sign of him anywhere. At least if he was here, I'd know he's safe. As it is now..." He shakes that thought from his head.

Castiel hesitates. He really shouldn't say it. There's got to be at least three cops watching him right now. Admitting he knows anything would be a huge red flag, and not necessarily one Jody could overlook. But Dean looks so worried...

Castiel leans down so his lips are almost touching the other man's ear. He'd rather the cops know he has an unspecified secret than know the details. "He's at my place."

"Oh, you son of a bitch." Dean grabs the man's arms, so hard that it's doubtlessly going to leave two very painful bruises, and pulls him off the table. "I thought he was dead, Cas! I thought I lost another one of my people —"

"Dean, let go of me," Castiel says, his voice loud but firm.

Dean does not, in fact, let go of him.

"And he's been with you the whole goddamn time?" Dean demands. His grip on Castiel's arms tightens. "Everyone has been looking for him. Hell, your brother's spent more time crying this week than he has sleeping! And you —"

"Dean," Castiel says — no, yells; he's not going to take this right now — "I am not your boyfriend, I'm a cop, so get your fucking hands off me!"

Dean makes a passive-aggressive show of removing his hands. He's still fuming, but at least he's not yelling. "You should have told me. I shouldn't have had to spend all fucking week looking for the kid that you kidnapped."

Castiel scoffs. "You're not exactly the easiest guy to get a hold of, Dean, and I didn't kidnap him." The first part is, admittedly, just to (hopefully) get Jody off his back, but he does mean the second part. That was not kidnapping. In no way was that fucking kidnapping.

"Oh, really?" Dean demands. "Because last time I checked, keeping a minor in your house for a week without telling his parents is kidnapping — which, for the record, is very fucking illegal. How you gonna rationalize that, Law Boy?"

"There is nothing illegal about not kicking my nephew out of my house," Castiel hisses. "But, by all means, my brother is welcome to come down to the station and press charges. I'm sure that will go over fantastically."

Dean shoves him backwards, and he shoots his hands out behind him to catch himself on the table. "You have no right to call him your nephew after you abandoned him, and you sure as hell don't have the right to take him from us."

"Well, clearly that's something you have to take up with him," CastieI says, "because he went out of his way to find me, not the other way around."

"Then you should have brought him back."

"He didn't want to go back!" Castiel says. "He showed up covered in —" He cuts himself off. He probably shouldn't be too loud about this. It seems to have piqued Dean's interest, and Castiel feels just comfortable enough to lean in to whisper it. "He showed up covered in blood and he asked if he could stay with me."

"Why was he...?"

Castiel hesitates. Jack said he didn't want Dean to know. He really should respect the boy's wishes. But he can't just not give Dean an answer, too. He'd be pissed — more so than he is now. He's going to have to go behind the kid's back for this one.

All he does is whispers, "Vamps."

Dean pushes him away by the shoulders — fortunately less harshly this time. "You're shitting me. I'm gonna kill them. I'm going to kill every single —"

"This is exactly why Jack didn't want you to know!" Castiel interrupts.

"So he went to the guy he knew wouldn't do a goddamn thing?" Dean asks. He grits his teeth. "Your redhead wasn't there, was she? That was just to get me out of there?"

Castiel resists the urge to glance at the one-way mirror. He knows this is a strange conversation to overhear just in general; he doesn't want to get Charlie dragged into it. "No, she wasn't."

"You're a terrible fucking liar," Dean tells him. He runs a hand down his face. His anger seems to have dissipated; now he just sounds tired. "You should've brought him home, Cas."

"He didn't want me to," CastieI says simply.

"I don't give a damn what he wanted; you should have brought him home," Dean says. "You know damn well that the police don't give a shit about people like us. Getting your partner involved —"

"She literally was not involved," CastieI says. "I was taking care of him. She was just watching Star Wars. And it's not like the cops could do anything to him, anyway. He's not exactly a world-renowned criminal; he's just a kid."

Dean purses his lips. He knows that's not true — the shootout behind the mall was very illegal — but he also knows better than to say that aloud with people eavesdropping. After a long few moments, he hits his hand down on the table and turns to face the one-way mirror. "I can get you the Vamps."

Castiel does a double take at that. "What?"

"I can get you the Vamps," Dean repeats, his gaze still on the mirror. "They hurt my kid and let him live to tell the tale. Trust me, they're gonna let me in, and we can take them down."

"Dean —"

Dean turns back to him. "Get me whoever's in charge here. I have a proposition for them."