8. Caribou, Wyoming

I feel very uncomfortable in this. Truthfully, I forgot just how much I hate dressing up like this. This goes beyond what I had to wear at my former job. But he roped me into it, damn it. I blame him, one hundred percent.

"I should have let you take a bus, or a plane," I say, gripping my truck's steering wheel tight. Castiel is in the seat opposite me, all dressed up. I'm way in over my head on this, but I couldn't go out in my regular clothes. I'd look so out of place at the crime scene.

Yes, you heard me correctly. Crime scene.

"The murders even got you interested, Josette," Castiel tells me neutrally. "Otherwise you wouldn't be driving me. And you said you didn't mind the drive anyway."

"You told me this while I was still half asleep! Remind me again how you scrapped this up?"

"I still have a badge that your brothers gave me, and you said you had something in your closet that was your ex-boyfriend's."

"I seriously must've been too tired to remember that." I yawn. "Well, maybe I can hand you off to them if they haven't already beaten us to the punch."

"You don't like my company?"

"Don't play that card on me, Castiel," I whimper. "Yes, I do enjoy your company, I will say that. It's just...you are associated with hunting. I swore off it. I don't want to be involved in it anymore." I grimace slightly. "I will miss you when you're gone, though. Just a little bit."

"And there's nothing I can say to change your mind?"

I shake my head. "Not a word, Castiel. Not a word."

Cop cars and caution tape at a roadhouse is what we pull up to. I flinch, feeling like I break a heel just stepping out of my truck.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" I whisper as I lock up my truck.

"This isn't my first time with this, Josette. Follow my lead."

"I'm not sure that I should," I mutter.

"The Feds are here already?" one cops asks as we approach the scene.

"News travels fast," I say on our behalf. "Agents Smoak and Allen." We both flash our badges so quickly the cop can't ask us to hand over our IDs for him to check us out. "Mind if we get inside and take a look?"

"Who am I to say no to the Feds?" the cop chuckles. He leads us to the inside of the roadhouse. "It's a pretty bad sight in there. Hope neither one of you has a bad stomach."

My nose wrinkles at the smell of blood. There's blood everywhere, almost as if someone came in with a chainsaw and started hacking away. The bodies aren't around, so someone came to collect them prior. I'm trying to picture the massacre. How did it happen? More importantly, why?

The investigator in me takes over, and I find myself lumbering around the scene. Broken tables and chairs, broken glass. It's a warzone in here. Castiel wanted to come here because he believed this was angel-related. Is he even right? Well, it's possible, considering an entire population inside a roadhouse got slaughtered and the culprit—or culprits—are nowhere to be found.

"Ah, my colleagues," I hear Castiel say.

I find myself looking back at the former angel, and my mouth drops slightly. I was wondering when they'd come in. Sure enough, there are my brothers. Sam and Dean Winchester. Although they haven't noticed me yet, they have to have assumed I would bring Castiel to this damn roadhouse in Wyoming. The things I do for a stranger...

"Agent," I hear Sam say. His voice grew deeper since the last time I'd heard it, just like Dean's has.

"Agent," Castiel says rather happily. He's like a dog with a bone right now.

"Cas," Dean cuts in. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Um, I still have that badge you gave me."

"Yeah. Uh, what the hell are you doing?"

"The murders were all over the news. I, I thought I might be of help."

"Yeah, but, Cas, you know that this is an angel situation, right?" asks Sam. "I mean, you left that night because angels were on your ass."

"Yeah, and you were living the life, you know?" says Dean. "Early retirement, working your way up the Gas-N-Sip ladder."

"Well, clearly you rubbed off on him," I say, walking towards the trio.

"Oh, great, you came along," Dean mutters.

"Trust me, I'm not happy about it either." I toss my hair.

"Josette?"

I turn my head to Sam. Boy, has he skyrocketed. He was tall the last time I saw him too. But he's gotten even bigger. His boyish features have thinned out, and just like Dean, he's aged. I can see it in his face and his hazel eyes. I can also note that he hasn't gotten a proper haircut for years. It's nowhere near my length, but if he let it grow out, it could be or even surpass my length.

"Heya, Sammy," I say softly. "You grew up." I feel guilt blossoming in the center of my chest. Though he could easily be older than me, he's still my baby brother.

"So have you."

"If angels are slaughtering one another, I have to do what I can to help," Castiel insists, cutting up the Winchester reunion. "It is a risk we should be willing to take, don't you think?" We all look at him. "Hey. Cas is back in town."

"Seriously, did you—did he just say that?" asks Dean.

Castiel pulls out some photos, no doubt of the crime scene. "These angels, uh, they were butchered. Much more violence than was required."

And here I thought angels were the good guys. It doesn't sound like they're so saintly like they're depicted as by humans. They sound pretty vicious actually. Some can be, as Ephraim had showed me a while back before I killed him to save Castiel's life.

"Definitely took more than one or two killers to pull this off," Sam notes.

"Hit squad? Bartholomew's people?" asks Dean.

"Well, Bartholomew has a faction we know about, but this could be somebody else entirely we don't know."

One more reason why I shouldn't be part of this: I have no idea what the hell is going on.

"Well, whoever it is," says Castiel, patting my brothers' shoulders, "we'll find them."

"We'll find them," I mutter. "That's great."

"We're not leaving this case alone, Josette. We can't."

I sigh. "You won't let me get out of this, will you?"

"Not a chance."

"Not even if I let the boys take you away in the Impala?"

"Not even then."

I blow out air through my nose. "Damn it, Castiel. If I didn't like you so much, and if my brothers weren't your friends, I'd leave you here right now."

"It's almost like she never left," I hear Dean say under his breath.

* * *

Our meetup at the roadhouse leads us to going out for drinks at a bar. We get a table for four, and we're still dressed up in Feds gear. At this point, I want to change out of these things and get into something more tolerable and comfortable.

I'm mindlessly picking at my beer bottle. I'm trying not to go overboard, because I know what it can do to a person. Not that my dad ever got violent when drunk. It was when he wasn't drunk I worried the most. He was dangerous sober too.

"It is so good being together again," Castiel muses. Truthfully, I feel pretty uncomfortable being around my brothers again. Their presence alone tries to make a memory resurface. "You know, this is my first beer as a human."

"Really now?" asks Dean, looking at me. "I'm kinda surprised."

"Sorry, I'm not into the whole drinking my problems away thing," I say a bit harshly.

"I hope it's okay, us joining you?" asks Castiel. I look at him pointedly. Us?

"Why wouldn't it be okay?" asks Sam.

"You know, Cas," says Dean, "are you sure you're ready to jump back into all this? I mean, it seemed to me like you'd actually found some peace."

"Hey, you once told me that you don't choose what you do," says Castiel. "It chooses you."

"Huh?"

"I'm a part of this." Castiel clinks bottles with Dean. "Like it or not."

"Oh, don't expect me to give you the same schpeel," I say once Dean looks my way. "I'm just his ride until you two take him back." Which might be sooner than I think, I realize. If Castiel wants back in with my brothers, I can let him go. Yes, I'd miss his company, but I wouldn't miss all that he brought to my place.

"All right," says Sam, breaking the slight tension that's fallen over our table, "well, then, in that case, we have to figure out, uh, who are we up against, what do they want, and how do we stop them."

"Well, Bartholomew wants to reverse Metatron's spell," Castiel explains. "Presumably to—to retake Heaven once his following is large enough. That's according to April."

"The reaper you banged," Dean deadpans.

"Yeah, and you stabbed."

Why does this surprise me?

"Yeah. She was hot."

"So hot," Castiel agrees. "And very nice."

"Mm."

"Up to the point she started torturing me."

"Yeah. Well, not every hookup's perfect."

"Dear lord," I groan, rubbing my temple. It makes me wonder just what this April chick did to get Castiel into bed with her. Just the idea makes me cringe inside. We'd both found some pretty ugly people, Castiel with his...reaper...and then me with my ex...

"All right," I finally say. "Before this gets anymore weird, I'll get us another round."

"Nah," Castiel tells me. "I'll get it." He hops off his stool, disappearing, but then reappears to finish up his current bottle. "Mm. You know, I've never done this before."

"I don't trust him alone," I mutter as I slide off the barstool. I don't want my brothers questioning me. Castiel is a good excuse to get away.

I maneuver through the place until I reach the bar, where Castiel is waiting for the next round for our table. His eyes look a little glazed over already.

"Wow, one beer and you're drunk," I muse playfully. "You're a lightweight."

"It seems I've got a very little alcohol tolerance as a human. As an angel, it took a lot to get me this way."

"I can imagine." I pause and let the commotion fill the silence. "Castiel?"

"Yes?"

"Do you still want me around?"

"What do you mean?"

"This whole angel situation, you throwing yourself back into whatever mess you got pulled into."

"Josette, I don't want you to be involved, because I'm trying to respect your wish. But, I feel better with someone around." He smiles faintly. "Besides, you and me, we make a good team."

I snort. "Yeah, a good team where I'm reckless and you gotta come save my ass."

"That was one time."

"There we go," says the bartender. Castiel nods his head in thanks, and between the two of us, we carry the four bottles back to our table.

"Here we go," says Castiel. "Four brewskies."

I shake my head. "I swear I need to make you more cultured."

"I'm going to get something out of the car," says Sam suddenly, and I hear a pissed undertone.

"What the hell is his issue?" I ask as Sam storms out of the bar. I look to Castiel and Dean for answers, but neither are providing me what I want. I sigh. "Fine, keep me in the dark." It's what I want anyway. It's what I need to do. I need to be as far away from this as possible.

Castiel clears his throat. "I, um, I noticed you look...kind of uncomfortable whenever Sam mentions my leaving. Doesn't he know that you told me to leave?"

"I'm sorry, what?" I ask. I look at Dean pointedly. "You told Castiel to leave? Why?"

"I'm not sure you should be around to hear this," Dean mutters.

"The hell I shouldn't. Dean, you're the reason I've kept him at my place! You didn't give me a reason why he couldn't stay with you."

"Here's the deal. Way, way back, Sam and I had the opportunity to close Hell's gates for good. When Sam was doing the trials to seal up Hell, it messed him up. Okay? The third one nearly killed him. If I'd let him finish, it would have. He's still messed up, bad."

"Gee, Dean, that would've been nice to know!" I fume. "My—our—baby brother was killing himself all to shut down Hell! What else have you two idiots tried to do?"

"There's a list full."

"You said the angel, Ezekiel, helped heal him," Castiel interjects.

Dean looks down in avoidance. "Look, I got to do anything I can to get him back. Now, if that means we keep our distance from you for a little while, then...Then I don't have a choice. I don't feel good about it, but I don't have a choice. It's great to have your help, Cas. Okay, but we just can't work together."

I still don't understand this. There's so much more that I'm missing. But is Dean gonna give me what I want? Will Castiel?

On that rather somber note, we part ways from the bar. We don't say "goodbye" or anything, Castiel gets into my truck along with me. I sit, not turning on the engine yet.

"You still wanna investigate these murders?" I ask him.

"I have to, Josette."

"Okay, so, what do you want me to do?" I look at him. "Clearly, Dean doesn't want you working with them."

"It's a long drive back to your place. Let's grab a motel room and stay overnight."

I kick the truck into gear. I watch as the Impala roars away from the bar and into the night. I shake my head. There is so much I don't understand. Maybe it's better that I don't. Maybe it's better that I know barely anything.

Castiel looks out into the night as I drive us to the nearest motel.

**I just picture this song when I hear "Cas is back in town." And I have no idea why.**