Things That Should Never Be Counted

Chapter One

December 31st, 2014

The room smelled like mothballs. It wasn't an overpowering scent, Castiel was thankful for that but it was still present enough that when he entered Kevin Tran's apartment his nose started to itch forcing him to rub at it in hopes of stopping the oncoming sneeze. The younger man met his eyes and smiled apologetically. Castiel merely waved it off, it wasn't the others fault that many older buildings in Brooklyn smelt as old as they truly were. It added... well, character?

"I've got your new identification already printed out, Mr. Milton," Kevin broke the silence as he scratched the back of his neck expressing the awkward tension building up between them. Castiel smiled warmly trying to calm the other's nerves.

"Please call me Jimmy. My father is Mr. Milton and seeing as he's still alive and kicking it's only fair that he remains Mr. Milton," Castiel laughed, the lie easily slipping from his lips as if it were the truth. Kevin gave a sharp nod before he gestured his guest to follow him further into the apartment.

"I added some little flaws and specs on the picture because it makes it look more authentic," Kevin explained and quickly glanced back at the man following him. He then entered the small office space near the back of the apartment where a computer and a large machine that Castiel assumed to be some sort of printer were set up. A brown package sat on top of the computer's keyboard. Kevin headed straight for it and picked it up.

"Here," Kevin said, handing Castiel the brown envelope. "In there you've got your driver's license, passport, birth certificate, and any other form of identification you might need." Castiel said nothing; he pushed open the flap of the packaging and fished out the first thing his finger touched; his passport. Slowly, he grazed his fingers over the front cover before flipping it open to the page with his picture. There he was, staring blankly into the camera as one does in any passport photo. It was him without a doubt but the name and signature were not his own and they hadn't been for a very long time. Instead of 'Castiel Novak' the name of the man who owned this passport was Thomas Barth.

Thomas Barth was a struggling gallery owner who was packing up and moving his work from Kansas City to Portland in hopes of making it big in a more artsy location. Every new identity had a new story. Jimmy Milton was in love with history and followed that passion to New York City where he worked at the Department of Records and was naturally very proud of that, thank you very much. Before him, Noah Howells had been a bar tender in a shabby little place in Baltimore. Benjamin Patterson had owned a furniture store in Charleston. Fitz Short played live music in Chicago. Freddie Carlisle was a secretary at a doctor's office in Seattle. Edwin White was studying medicine in London. Mathieu Guérin was a writer from Paris who had moved to a small town in hopes of finding inspiration. And Castiel Novak, well, he'd been dead for a very long time.

"So what do you think?" Kevin's voice broke Castiel out of his nostalgic state. The man blinked before stuffing the passport back into the envelope and meeting the other's gaze full on.

"It's perfect. You are very talented," Castiel said before briefly pausing. "But I have to ask, why are you wasting such a talent? I assume you know the fine for forgery? Not to mention the four years of jail time that you'd be serving," Castiel added as he raised a single eyebrow. However, he had to force his face to remain expressionless and not twist up into a smile when he saw Kevin's expression shattered into fear at the question.

"Y-You're an undercover cop, aren't you?" his voice shook. Castiel couldn't help the laugh that left his throat. He shook his head as to relax some of the other's fears.

"Not at all, you have nothing to worry about, Kevin," the older of the two said before stuffing the envelope into his messenger bag. "Thank you again for everything."