Castiel puts on the same outfit he always wears on his way to work: dress pants, a white dress shirt, a suit jacket, and a trench coat. It’s still a work day, after all, and he doesn’t want to pull up to the station dressed like a gang member. He packs his more casual attire in a small duffle back. The sneakers, jeans, and black tee shirt are all easy to find; he wears things like that on weekends so they’re not far. Finding his leather jacket takes a lot more work. He hasn’t worn that one in years.

“Castiel?” Jack calls from the living room. “Shouldn’t you be leaving in a minute?”

“Yeah, gimme a sec!” Castiel calls back. He didn’t realize Jack knew when he leaves in the mornings. He wonders briefly whether the kid also knows when he comes home, and whether he watches the clock when it’s around time for him to come back. He really hopes he comes back at the normal time today. He really hopes he comes back at all today.

Castiel checks his bedroom closet for the third time this morning. It’s just not there. It’s not in his bureau, either. What the fuck? Where could it be? He’s really running out of places to look.

The soft clinking of crutches alerts him to Jack’s presence before he sees the kid. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m looking for my leather jacket,” Castiel tells him.

“You’re wearing a leather jacket to work?” Jack asks, and Castiel can hear the judgement in his voice.

“Charlie and I are going out for lunch,” Castiel lies. “Don’t want to draw attention to myself in my fancy clothes.” He’d like to think that was a pretty good lie for such little time to think. If he keeps that up today, he shouldn’t have a problem (as long as he doesn’t take a bullet to the head before he gets the chance to talk).

“I wanna go out to eat,” Jack mutters.

“Maybe this weekend,” Castiel says. If today goes well, they’ll deserve a celebratory dinner anyway.

Jack perks up at that. “Oh, yay!” He pauses. “Have you checked the bathroom? I think it’s hanging above the washer.”

“Wait, really?” Castiel squeezes by him and jogs over to the bathroom. Sure enough, it’s hanging up in there. It’s been so long since he’s looked for it, it must have started blending into the background. Thank god Jack pays attention. He grabs it and heads out to the living room, where Jack is gently lowering himself to the couch. “Thanks, kiddo.”

Jack just beams.

He’s supposed to pick Charlie up today, so time is really starting to run low. He jogs back to the bedroom and tucks his jacket in the duffel bag. He zips it up and slings it over his shoulder. Perfect. That should be all he needs.

He goes back to the living room -- holy shit this is a lot of walking -- but he pauses before he reaches the door. Is this everything he needs? This is everything he’s gonna wear, right? Jeans, tee shirt, jacket, sneakers. That’s all he’s gotta wear. So why does it feel like he’s missing something?

Castiel puts his duffel bag down and turns around. Adding even more walking to his morning, he heads to the kitchen and opens his junk drawer. He sifts through a few things until he finds the ring Dean gave him. He smiles despite himself and slips it on his finger. Okay, now he’s ready to go.

Castiel heads back to the living room, where Jack has made himself comfortable on the couch and is scrolling through Netflix for something to watch. He looks up when Castiel returns and waves at him, a smile on his face. He’s just so freaking adorable.

“Alright, I’m off to work,” Castiel tells him. Usually he would just head out the door; today, he takes an extra minute to say a real goodbye to the kid. He presses a kiss to the top of Jack’s head. “Love you, buddy."

"Love you, too," Jack says. It's a casual remark and he clearly doesn't think much of it, but it means a lot to Castiel. It's something he can carry with him to get him through the day.

Speaking of getting through the day, he really has to go now.

So that's what he does. He heads to the car, tosses his duffel bag in the back seat, and then he's off to Charlie's. The air is somber as he drives them to the station. They don't talk much. There's not much to talk about. There's the elephant in the room, of course — the Vamps — but that would just drag the mood down further.

Fortunately, Charlie is nothing if not resourceful, and she finds something to at least try to lighten the mood. "Is that a limo?"

"Looks like," Castiel replies, eyeing the long black car in front of them. He can't help but wonder what it's doing here. It's a bit early for a funeral to be ending, but he's not sure what else an ordinary person would need a limo for.

Charlie, meanwhile, completely ignores the whole "ordinary person" aspect of that and asks eagerly, "Who do you think it is?"

"A nobody," Castiel says. "Like you or me except, you know, in a limo."

"I bet it's Rihanna," Charlie says. "That's totally Rihanna."

"That not —"

"Or Elizabeth Olsen," they add. "It's probably Lizzie." They give a wistful sigh. "Love of my life."

Castiel chuckles. He might as well play along while the limo's still here. He's sure it's only a matter of time until they go their separate ways. "I hope it's Ryan Reynolds. I know he's married and all but I would totally tap that."

"You know what?" Charlie says. "It's Taylor Swift. Taylor Swift is here."

"Oh, yes, I'm sure that's Taylor Swift," Castiel jokes. "And her boyfriend, whatever the fuck his name is —"

"Joe!"

"And her three cats," he finishes. "It's Taylor, Joe, and her three cats, all right in front of us."

"It sure as fuck is," they say. "Hang on, I'm gonna summon her." They pull out their phone and plug it into the seldom-used iPhone jack. It takes a few moments for them to find the song, and another few moments for his uncultured ass to figure out what it is.

I stay out too late! Got nothin' in my brain!

"This is gonna summon Taylor Swift?" Castiel glances over at her to see her dancing around in the seat by his side.

"Damn right!" Charlie says, then immediately bursts into song.

Castiel doesn't know any of the lyrics, but he will admit that seeing Charlie living their best life brightens his day. He doesn't even care who's in that limo. He knows for a fact that they aren't as cool as Charlie (unless it is actually Ryan Reynolds, but even then, it’s still a close call).

It's the last chorus, and Charlie is screaming the background vocals very loudly (which would be annoying had it been actual words, but it's even worse with just yeahs and oohs). He loves his friend to death, but he's never been so glad to almost be at work. He can't put an end to this fast enough.

Ultimately, it's Charlie who puts the end to it when the light turns red and the limo ahead of them takes the same turn they do. She stops singing and turns the music down. "Is Taylor Swift going to the station?"

"It looks like it," Castiel says, confused. Who brings a limousine to a police station? He can't imagine they're turning in here for anything else. It's not exactly the most convenient place to turn around, and there's really nothing else over there.

"This is gonna be interesting," Charlie says.

"Hopefully not," Castiel says. "We have enough 'interesting' on the agenda today. We don't need any more."

"Well, maybe it'll be a fun interesting," Charlie says. "Maybe Taylor Swift needs help finding her cat."

"If it's not Ryan Reynolds, I'm really not interested," Castiel says.

Charlie crosses their arms. "Fine, be that way. I'm content in my knowledge that I'm enjoying my life more than you are." They pause. "You know, it would actually be hilarious if that was Ryan Reynolds. You wouldn't deserve that win, but it would be hilarious."

"I would absolutely deserve that win," Castiel says indignantly.

Being the very mature thirty-something-year-olds that they are, they spend the next few minutes bickering about how worthy he is of meeting Ryan Reynolds at work. It's a nice distraction from the ever-present apprehensive feeling in his gut.

They lose sight of limo guy when they park, and that's the end of that. Castiel still thinks it would be cool if it was Ryan Reynolds, but he's not naive enough to think it's possible (nor does he believe it's Taylor Swift or Rihanna or Elizabeth Olsen). It doesn't matter anyway; if it's someone cool, they'll hear about it in no time. More likely it's just an average upper-middle-class person (or group of people) who needed a ride.

Castiel and Charlie are all prepared to go about their day like usual. They head inside towards their desks, ready to spend the day doing paperwork and sending emails like the boring homicide detectives with no new cases they are until Jody comes to see them.

That plan is interrupted when they're immediately greeted with a surprised and almost excited "Cas?"

Castiel glances around, and it takes him a minute to zero in on who called his name. There's a man standing at the front desk, presumably having been arguing with the secretary as people tend to do, but now his attention is on Castiel. He runs a hand though his shoulder-length brown hair, a relieved smile on his face.

Castiel cocks his head to the side and squints at him. "Hi…?"

"Cas, it's me," the man says, like that's going to clear anything up. "It's Sam."

Castiel's eyebrows shoot up. "Holy hell, you really grew up." He eyes the man up and down. He definitely wasn't this tall at 18 years old, nor was his hair even nearly this long. His entire facial structure changed, too, now more angular with more prominent features. He looks like a completely different man.

"Apparently I'm not the only one," Sam says, gesturing to him. "I mean, the trenchcoat? That's a very mature adult trenchcoat."

Castiel can't tell if that was subtle shade to the trenchcoat, nor does he care. He likes his trenchcoat, and anyone who doesn't can take their complaints elsewhere.

Castiel feels a little weird standing in the middle of the hall, so he walks over to the desk, where he's sure they're annoying the shit out of the receptionist but at least they're out of everyone else's way. Charlie follows him, and if he weren't afraid it would sound like a demand, he'd assure her she didn't have to stick around.

"What are you doing here?" Castiel asks, though not unkindly.

"Well, I'm trying to get in and see Dean," he says, his tone instantly changing from friendly to annoyed, "but apparently I can't do that."

Ah, so he was arguing with the receptionist. Castiel gestures for him to follow. "C'mon, I got you." He glances at the reception, who just waves them off. If Castiel wants him to come in, he's coming in.

As they're heading in, it occurs to Castiel that he completely neglected to introduce his two friends, so he does that briefly. He can feel their mutual unease immediately. A cop and a lawyer who happens to be the brother of the most infamous gangster in the state? They never had a chance of getting along.

"I didn't know you were coming up," Castiel tells him. "You know Dean doesn't have a trial, right? There's not much for you to do here."

"Oh, I know," Sam says. "Dean told me what he's doing, and he wouldn't listen when I told him it was stupid. I'm just hoping he'll listen to me in person because clearly over the phone wasn't working."

"So you booked the first flight from California?" Castiel cocks an eyebrow.

"Pretty much," Sam says. "I mean, someone has to step in, and it doesn't look like you're gonna be the one to do it."

"No, I'm not," Castiel says, "because I don't think someone should step in. I mean, I won't tell you not to, but I don't agree." Dean has the right to an attorney, and Sam has the right to take that job. To a certain point, he'd kind of like the excuse to not have to risk his life on this, but he doubts Dean will change his mind. He wants to take the Vamps down, and that's one thing they can both agree on.

"I'm sorry," Sam says, "we are talking about the same thing, right? Dean wants to go into Vamp territory and dismantle them from the inside? That's dumb, even for him — and especially for you."

"It's not like he's doing it alone," Castiel says. "And, frankly, it's better than the alternative: marching in guns blazing with the Hunters." He absolutely would, too, which is the worst part. It's hard to view Dean getting arrested as a good thing, but at least it means he couldn't do something stupid(er?) when he heard about Jack.

"I don't care if he's doing it alone or if he has the entire US military by his side," Sam says. "It's a stupid risk and he knows it's a stupid risk and you know it's a stupid risk, even if you won't admit it."

"No, I know it is," Castiel says. "But it's a risk I'm willing to take." If it could keep Jack safe and with his family, it's worth it. Anything for Jack.

"But you're not taking the risk," Sam says. "Dean is."

"Sam, I'm literally going to be by his side the whole time," Castiel deadpans. "I am very much taking the same risk."

"Wait, what?"

Castiel tilts his head to the side. "Did Dean just not tell you that?"

"No, he mentioned you once in passing but that was it," Sam says. "Sam says. “You know the Vamps are going to kill you, right?”

Castiel lolls his head back in exasperation. “God, will everyone stop saying that?”

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Sam says again, because apparently everyone will not stop saying that. “Dean has it bad enough as a Hunter, but you’re a cop, Cas. It’s like you’re asking for a bullet to the head.”

“As far as the Vamps are concerned, I’m going in as a Hunter, not a cop,” Castiel tells him. He’s not sure that will make a difference, but he has to hope. “If they think I’m there about Jack, they’re not going to think I’m after some state-sponsored revenge.”

“Jack?” Sam repeats, confused. “Who’s -- not the little kid.”

Castiel scoffs. “Wow, Dean really didn’t tell you anything, did he?”

“Apparently not,” Sam says with a frown.

Castiel takes a moment to figure out just how much of this story he can say in a police station. He sure as hell can’t mention that it goes back as far as the shootout behind the mall because he doesn’t want anyone (Charlie included, as much as he loves them) to hear that Jack killed a guy, even in self defense. It will make the Vamp’s attack seem unprompted, but he’s not trying to win them any sympathy, anyway.

“A few of the Vamps really roughed Jack up,” Castiel says vaguely. “Dean thinks they’re gonna be half-expecting him after that, and if they’re half-expecting him, then I think I can pass as trying to get revenge, too.”

“There’s still a good chance they’ll kill you just on account of being a Hunter,” Sam says. “You realize that, right? That doesn’t make you safe at all.”

Castiel shrugs. “Again, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“For what it’s worth,” Charlie tells her friend, “I also think you’re being an idiot, which makes a grand total of two out of two relevant people that think so.”

“And I literally do not care,” Castiel says. “I’ve made my decision, so unless Jody or Dean change their minds, I’m in this now.”

“Then can I talk to him?” Sam asks. “You can’t both be this stupid. I’ve gotta be able to at least change his mind.”

“Be my guest,” Castiel says. He points at Jody’s office door. “You’re gonna have to talk to her first, though.” He doesn’t know what’s up with Dean right now, but he’s sure Jody’s been keeping tabs on him. She can get this Winchester family reunion started.

“Are you coming?” Sam asks.

Castiel lets out a low whistle. “Not a chance. I don’t want to talk to my boss and Dean won’t want to talk to me. You’re on your own with this one.” He’s actually not sure if Dean is still mad at him -- he hasn’t exactly had the chance to pop in and visit him this morning -- but it’s probably better safe than sorry. He’ll talk to Dean later when they can be alone instead of ruining his reunion with his brother.

Sam snorts. “What, Dean’s bitter that he got arrested and he’s taking it out on you or something?”

“Yeah, or something,” Castiel says with a shrug. “You’re welcome to ask him about it, but I can’t promise he’ll give you a straight answer.”

“Dean doesn’t give a straight anything,” Sam says with a small smile. “Alright, I am going to go talk to your boss… apparently… and then try to get Dean to use his brain for once in his life. I’ll see you later?”

“Probably,” Castiel says. “I do work here, you know.”

Sam chuckles. “Yeah, that’s true. Alright, see you around, Cas.”

“See you later, Sam. And good luck. Dean's kind of been an ass lately.”

"Isn't he always?"