✓ 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑 ― Supernatural

EPISODE 39┃TRACKING SWEETPANTS

Castiel

When he did the requested human interaction to enter the airplane Castiel's thoughts were elsewhere. A woman in the regular suit for the flight cleared her throat. Her hair blonde and her eyes ice blue. The voice was soft as feathers. A pang of emotions hit Castiel unexpectedly. "Are you all right, sir?"

Castiel nodded. "Yes, I am, have a," he stopped mid-sentence before he turned to her again. Her gaze was worried. He smiled a fake as Dean taught him days back. It went against everything he wanted to do. Castiel glanced at the row behind him. Some had angry stares, others complained about poor internet while others talked loudly. His eyes found her again. "Nice day, ma'am," he finished and left to board the plane.

--

To arrive back on set made his blood boil in his vessel. The place reeked of activity still, the original actors still had a job left to do. However, Castiel wanted to find papers that were strictly illegal anyone found apart from people involved in the production. A few humans greeted him. Castiel did the same back. The false smile plastered on his face most of the time. Cameras were rigged around a scene where two actors made an intense exchange of dialogue. Interesting. Castiel began to look for the room where the writers were.

In the end, he decided to ask someone on set. It was a young boy having a walkie-talkie in his hand. A cap that said Brooms of Doom! his eyes dirty brown while his hair in curls. He snapped comments every other second. Castiel grabbed him by the shoulder. The next second they were behind a white truck. The boy against the surface, Castiel's hand cupped his mouth. His stare was unwavering. "Where is the writer's room?" Castiel said.

The boy's eyes were blown wide in shock and surprise. He gestured from him to take away his hand. Castiel did it slowly, his body ready to bolt at any moment he noticed an unwanted reaction. The boy took a deep breath until he calmed down. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Misha?" He asked.

Castiel's face remained motionless.

"Anyway, the writer's room is at the main building D2, room 666," the boy explained as he rolled his eyes. "I thought you already knew this?" He raised his eyebrows. Then yelling raised in volume from the set Castiel had left from. He took up his walkie-talkie and barked a few orders before leaving Castiel.

Castiel chose not to comment on the point of the devil's number the writers chose to use. He found the location thirty-six minutes and two seconds later. Most people were busy outside so Castiel used his time to find the room. When he finally found it, a small glint was in his eyes. Castiel opened the door and walked in. He began with the shelves that mostly had stick notes to information Castiel had never heard of. Including Chuck. He frowned then moved over to the desks.

He opened up some laptops, passwords where required. For a while, he stood in quiet. In deep thought. With one hand, he took up the phone. When Castiel had the mojo he figured the code rather quickly it was 2209. He unlocked it and went through Misha's personal information. Sometimes he was stunned into shock and others were too graphic to ever tell Sam and Dean.

Castiel searched for hacking too. He got the results he wanted. His hands went rapidly over the keyboard. The ping signalized Castiel was in. He printed out the pages and hid it under his trench coat Castiel wore. That's was when he heard the loud boots hit the stone floor. Castiel froze in his movements. His body went into full alert mode. Mentally Castiel cursed himself for not taking a weapon earlier.

The steps closed in.

Castiel moved closer to the window, his hands in front of himself. His feet slightly apart. The door was kicked open and Castiel flinched. Behind the entry, it revealed black-suited men. Castiel did not move to draw attention to him. They glanced around until they found him. The group surrounded him in seconds. Castiel's palms sweated. "What do you want?" Castiel's voice high compared to the cold silence.

A woman walked forward. Her red hair in waves behind her back. Freckles spread all over her neck and face. Her eyes shone in the light of the room. "I believe you have something we want," she said coldly. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Like what?" Castiel was quick to answer. He got an idea of what they were looking for and he did not under any circumstances planned to give them. There were Misha, Jensen, and Jared that needed them in his world.

She pointed at him with her perfect nail. Her mouth stretched thin in a threatening smile. "Dear, please don't do this harder than it has to be."

Castiel shrugged. "It's you guys that are acting as dicks right now," Castiel lifted his hand before she could argue. "I mean, I know J-two can be a pain in the ass and you want revenge. Both honest people, we are better than this," Castiel said. He hoped he managed to trick them in time to head out and his the scripts at the motel. The Winchesters were quite fond of motels for some reason.

"That's not what I meant," she did a gesture with her fingers.

Some men suddenly were at him, he took some well-aimed punched until they bled on their face. Then. Castiel's knees hit the ground. His breath was heavy. A palm grabbed his hair as he bent his head so it was directed at the ground. Her heels came into his line of sight. Blood red. How fitting. She crouched as her breath touched his ear. "Where is it?"

Castiel tried not to react to that. "I don't know what you are talking about," Castiel said. He stared at them in confusion. "So?" Castiel continued as he raised his eyebrows.