Castiel doesn't go back to the FBI, but he doesn't give up helping people. He's been doing it too damn long for that. Instead, he joins the local law enforcement of a small town in northern New Hampshire. Not much happens up there — no murders, which is a nice change. He can handle the occasional mugging or convenience store robbery, but after what happened to his sister, he'd rather not deal with death if he can avoid it.
His co-workers are nice, too. They're pretty chill, mostly fulfilling the fat-older-men-who-love-donuts stereotype. Over the six months he's there, they really don't do much, and every time anything happens, Castiel is always sent out, because they know he can take care of it himself, and someone else just comes along for the ride.
They don't quite get that luxury when they're called for a murder.
"Hell no."
"We ain't doin' that."
"Not a chance."
Castiel sighs. "I'm on it." Since god knows no one else will step up to the plate.
"All of you," the police chief, Jody Mills, says. "There's a rumor that it's the Bloody Valentine, and for all we know, he may still be there."
Castiel feels all the blood drain from his body at the name. It's been almost a year since he's had to deal with him. Even after all this time, he's not sure he can handle that.
"Maybe I should stay here?" Castiel says awkwardly. "Have someone to man the station, you know?"
Chief Mills scoffs. "Not a chance. Let's go."
Castiel's sure he could get out of it. All he has to do is say the guy tried to kill his sister. That would guilt trip even the best of police officers. But his past is also confidential, and though everyone knows he came from the FBI, no one can know about his involvement with the Bloody Valentine case.
So he has to go.
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FanfictionThe Bloody Valentine has been terrorizing the streets for years. Despite all their hard work, the FBI hasn't seen heads or tales of him. Despite never meeting, that doesn't stop Dean Winchester from dropping notes in the blood of his victims to wha...
