It was Thursday. A full three weeks had passed since Cas died, and Dean finally had to return to work. He was a detective, part of an independent agency run by Michael Milligan.

Michael used to be part of the police force, but quit because it didn't suit his interests. Instead he founded an agency dedicated to catching the criminals the police failed to apprehend, murderers especially. It was a small place, but the detectives did their job better than the actual police did.

Dean sat at the large oval table in his usual spot. Normally full of chatter, the people around it were silent.

Dean looked at each of his coworkers in turn. Across from him was Anna, her red hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was anxiously tapping the mahogany with her nails. Sitting next to her was Kevin, swiveling in his spinny chair. On his right, Garth was oddly subdued. He hadn't even taken out his sock puppet, Mr. Fizzles. Beside him, Gabriel was sucking on a lollipop, but without his usual cheerful mood. Across from Gabe, on the other side of the table, Sam was sitting as still as a statue. Next to him, Charlie licked her lips nervously as her gaze darted from one person to the other. On her right side was an empty chair where Cas usually sat. Then there was Dean, alone and uncomfortable as everyone's sympathetic eyes landed on him before flicking away, embarrassed.

Thankfully, their bosses, Michael and Bobby, entered, diverting everyone's attention.

"Alright you idjits, listen up," said Bobby in his usual gruff voice. Then he softened. "We lost one of our own recently. For those of you that don't already know, Castiel was murdered."

There were a few gasps, but most people knew and looked even more somber than they had already.

"We're thinking that this might be the work of the notorious and elusive character named Lucifer, who we've been searching for since last year," Michael announced in his no-nonsense voice. " We got our information on him and his name from some very talented spies, who turned up dead not long after. Now we must redouble our efforts to bring this killer to justice, before he harms more people." He tossed several files onto the table, and everyone picked them up. Dean flipped through pictures of horrific death scenes, of people he had never seen before lying in piles of their own blood. He found a picture of Cas from a week ago and found he had trouble breathing.

"Ex-Excuse me," he muttered, dropping the file onto the desk and sprinting from the room. He ran to the bathroom into a bigger stall, locking the door behind him. He sat on the toilet seat and cried, huge hiccuping sobs erupting from his chest.

A few minutes into his crying session, he heard two sets of footsteps. "Dean?" Charlie's voice echoed throughout the bathroom. "Dean? I told Bobby it was a dick move of him to add that picture of Cas in that file. I told him it wouldn't be good for you to relive those memories like that."

"Um, Charlie?" Sam said. "You probably shouldn't bring it up."

"Shut up, Sam. Dean?" Charlie's feet appeared in front of Dean's stall. "I'm coming in, okay?"

Without warning, her hand slid over the door and unlocked the stall. She tentatively walked in, Sam at her heels.

"Dean... oh, god, Dean, are you okay?"

"I'm obviously not okay. I'm crying in a bathroom stall like a sixth grader." Dean hiccuped and stood. "I just- I wasn't ready for that."

"I know. I know." Charlie held out her arms and Dean crashed into them, a whole new waterfall of tears spilling out.

He cried onto her hair for a while, and she cried into his shoulder, and Sam cried on his own.

Then Dean straightened, grabbing some toilet paper to blow his nose. "Okay. I'm ready to go back."

Charlie and Sam looked worried. "Are you sure?" Sam asked. "It might be better if you went home."

"No." Dean was adamant. "I'm going back. I need to show them I can hold it together."

Charlie nodded. "Okay. If you're sure."

Dean steeled himself and walked back to the conference room with Charlie and Sam. "I'm sorry about earlier," he said as calmly as he could muster. "I had a, a... I'm ready to return to work now."

"Okay," said Bobby gently. "We were just talking about the locations Lucifer has hit over the past few days." He showed Dean a map. "So far, it's been random, places inside and out of the city."

Dean studied the map.

"No. It isn't random." Dean grabbed a red Sharpie and began to connect the dots. "It's a star shape. A pentagram."

Kevin whistled. "He's certainly living up to his name."

"But why?" Anna asked. "Is it just a sick sense of humor, or a way of showing us he thinks he's the boss?"

Michael looked at her gravely. "That, my dear, is a very good question."

"It's a pentagram circling Chicago." The new secretary, Nick, spoke up as he walked into the room, carrying a tray of coffee. "He's telling us the city is under his control now." Everyone stared at him. Nick never had much to say.

"He's taking the city by striking fear into everyone's hearts," Gabriel murmured. "Scaring us so we're too distracted to stop him."

Everyone looked up from the map as the realization dawned on them. This wasn't just an act of a random terrorist. This was a madman trying to dominate their city and their lives.

((A/N: This is the first time I'm writing a story in this genre, so I appreciate feedback as well as suggestions. Thank you for reading, and please do stuff like vote and comment, it helps!))