Pride Among Thieves (A Destiel Fanfiction)

Chapter Nine

Cas and I drove out far to the first victims home. Cas insisted he didn't touch Sams soaps, but I wasn't convinced. Neither was I angry at him for it, I was more disappointed that I hadn't come up with that one myself.

The drive down the long and dusty dirt road seemed to stretch on in an awkward silence for years. I sighed as I collected my thoughts into one big messy pile. "Cas... I'm sorry about last night. Just-"

"Don't be. I do not wish to discuss this right now with you, Dean," he interrupted.

Another long pause before I finally spoke again, "between the interviews and the possible breaking-into-the-school, would you maybe want to-"

"No, Dean."

"Cas, please. just let me prove it to you that you mean a lot to me!"

"Dean! I said no!"

I slammed on the breaks, jerking both of our bodies forward. "I don't want to hear none of that," I demanded as his eyes glared at me, "tonight we are going to go out and have a lovely time with each other. End of discussion."

"Dean-"

"Cas, I said end of discussion! Period!"

"Dean, I was trying to explain that the map says we have already passed the house."

The house of the first deceased victim was painted white on the outside, barely contrasting with the snow. I dusted off my suit before following the shoveled path to the doorway.

"Dean, I seem to have forgotten my lines."

"I didn't give you any lines- Cas just follow my lead. You've done this before."

"Oh, yeah."

I rang the doorbell to the house, a good 20 seconds had passed with no response so I rang again. Eventually, we were greeted in by a middle-aged woman. She denied the bouquet of flowers that Cas offered in his condolences (which he insisted we pick up from the store beforehand.)

We were invited inside, she called her son downstairs. "Jared, would you make tea for these gentlemen. They're from the FBI," she explained.

"Oh... Alright-"

"Oh, no thanks," I interrupted, "we ate before we came."

"I'd like some tea," Cas piped in.

I noticed the boy who was just then leaving the living room. He was the same kid who threw the milkshake at Sam. I figured I'd bring it up.

"So, Mrs. Koprevich, we would like to ask you a few questions involving your daughter."

"What would you like to ask?"

"Did Becca have any problems at school with bullying? Or did she have anybody that might have wanted to hurt her."

The woman sighed and closed her eyes. "I really don't like talking about her like this... But Becca was the bully. She had lots of people who may have wanted to hurt her."

"Like who," I asked.

"Oh, she never would tell me... She kept her social life secluded from my eyes."