Hitman's Revenge (Destiel AU)

V

"What's going on? Why are you still wearing your jacket? And what's up with the gloves?" Castiel asked, tilting his head slightly. Dean professionally ignored the question and shoved the phone towards the man's face, the level of brightness low. He watched how Castiel's eyes visibly widened and Dean knew that the man was about to run.

"Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you," Dean said, rolling his eyes at the sudden change in behavior. "The good part is that there is no need to explain yourself. You launder money for the Devil's Cage against your will. Your father was murdered by your brother who faked his own death and threatens you by killing me and Gabriel if you don't comply. Like I said earlier; I want revenge on those sons of bitches. I have decided that I need your help."

A silence followed his words. Castiel had obviously tensed up, looking at him warily. Dean never lost eye contact, searching for any sign of comprehension.

The two men were both startled when a waitress talked loudly beside them, both glaring at said woman before simultaneously focusing on one another again.

"How?"

"How I knew about you?" Dean asked. Castiel nodded slowly. "I tracked you down months ago through missing money that I knew was transferred. When I got hands on your phone number, all I had to do was hack into the system, download data and voila; I was listening to a phone call with the devil himself. I just had to share this with you." The more he spoke, the more disgusted and wary Castiel seemed to become. Which wasn't very  surprising, because Dean lowkee told him he had been stalking him.

"Were you going to kill me?" The words were merely a whisper, and in that moment, Castiel looked so betrayed that it pained Dean to respond. He hadn't really thought this part of the plan through, and was hesitating whether or not he should answer truthfully.

"At first? Yes. Now? not anymore," he decided to say. Castiel let out a shaky breath, nodding as he did so.

"And why is that?" Dean knew that the man wanted to leave right there and then. To be honest, he was surprised that the he hadn't left just yet. He shrugged

"Because you don't deserve to be killed. You deserve to be cut loose from those bastards and live your life the way you want to," Dean explained. Castiel looked at him for a while, before shaking his head and grabbing his coat.

"I'm sorry. I- I can't," he said before standing up. Dean bowed his head sadly, but nodded. When he looked up, Castiel wasn't gone yet. "You don't know them like I do, Dean. They are ruthless, disgusting and ruin anything that comes in their way. I don't want you to get involved in that."

"Just- If you change your mind, this is where I live," Dean grabbed a pen from his pocket and scribbled down the address and number of his motel room on a napkin and gave it to Castiel. The man grabbed it and put it in the pocket of his trench coat. He then looked at Dean one more time before walking off.

Dean sighed and forced a smile at the waitress that arrived with their food. He had lost all his appetite, but it had been a day since he had eaten, and he really needed to get stronger. He sat there alone, looking at the untouched salad that he knew wasn't get eaten. Paying was no problem. After all, he had been paid 370 000 dollars for assassinating Fergus McLoud. Despite that luxury, Dean felt lonely.

He had just kicked Bobby out yesterday and Castiel had been the only one he actually talked to. Seeing him walk out of the coffee shop shattered him, and for a second he debated on calling Bobby, but he quickly shook that thought off. No, Bobby was safer without him. A single tear slid down his cheek, stopping halfway because he wiped it off. With or without Castiel, he was going to do this.