Emmanuel

The house loomed in front of you. There was nothing about it that should be scary. It was in a normal subdivision, with children playing next door. A white pillared porch was welcoming and friendly, the house painted a warm tan. But as Dean pulled up in front of it, you couldn't help the fact that your palms were sweaty, your heart rate picking up. Nervously nibbling on your lip, you glanced over at Dean who just sat there, his hands on the steering wheel as he stared up at the house.

"Here goes nothing." He said, making no effort to leave the safe confines of the car.

"Dean, even if this doesn't work, we will keep looking. There will always be another way." You assured him, trying to believe the words yourself.

"I sure hope you're right." He muttered, climbing out of the car. Joining him, you slowly walked up the stairs, each step hesitant and unsure. Not knowing what you would find in this house, if it would even help Sam.

Dean raised his hand, knocking on the door. Glancing at you, you could see how nervous he was. When the door opened, you looked up, surprised to see a beautiful brunette standing there. Dressed in khaki's and a cardigan, she glanced at you. "This is Y/N, I'm Dean. We called you earlier."

"Oh yes." She agreed. "Won't you come on in?"

As she backed up, letting you into her house, you couldn't believe how clean, how perfect the house seemed. Not an item was out of its spot, the floors polished and the furniture looking like it was straight out of a magazine ad. "Sorry for the mess. It's been so busy lately, I haven't had much of a chance to clean."

"Ma'am, not to be rude, but where is your husband?" You asked, Dean glancing nervously your way. "Isn't he the one we were scheduled to meet with?"

"Why yes, of course he is. But he isn't here at the moment, and I screen all his possible customers first. To make sure they aren't trying to scam him or something. My husband Emmanuel is a unique person, and he could get hurt easily."

"We understand that, but time is of the essence." Dean argued.

Reaching over, she grasped his hand. "I understand. And as soon as I think you two are okay, then he will agree to meet your brother. It is your brother, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. He's in a bad spot right now, and if we don't get him help as soon as possible..." Dean tried explaining, but she stood up, letting you know your meeting was at an end.

"As soon as Emmanuel gets home, we will go with you to this brother of yours. I can see the truth in your eyes and I want to help." She started to say just as her doorbell rang. "Excuse me."

Watching as she turned and walked away, you turned to Dean. "This still seems like a trap."

"It could be." Dean agreed. "But it's our best shot. So, we will keep our guns at our side, and our eyes on her."

"Shouldn't she be back by now?" You asked him. Frowning, he glanced around the corner, and you saw his shoulders tense before he reached for his knife.

Suddenly two men came rushing out of nowhere, and Dean slammed one to the wall. The other one came rushing after you, and with a couple of quick muttered words you sent him sprawling on the ground. With one Demon taken care of, Dean stabbed the other. "We need to go, now!" He said, and you stepped over one Demon's body, moving fast as you made your way to the front door.

With a heavy heart, you glanced down at the woman who lay dead on the floor. He pristine yellow cardigan now stained with red, a startled expression forever etched onto her face. "Whoever this Emmanuel is, he has to be pretty powerful if Demon's are wanting him." You thought out loud.

"I still don't like this whole thing." Dean muttered, striding out the door. Following behind him, being careful not to touch anything, you quickly ran straight into his back.

"Dean, what is..." You started, just as you glanced around his corner. Your words caught in your throat, you blinked your eyes, wondering if you were seeing things. At the foot of the porch stairs stood a man, narrowing his eyes as he stared up.

"Cas?" Dean whispered, not believing his eyes either. "Y/N, are you seeing this?"

"Yeah. Are you sure that's Cas though?" You asked even though you weren't sure it could be anyone else. He wasn't wearing his traditional trench coat and suit. Instead he was dressed quite similar as the woman laying dead on the floor. With khaki's and a polo shirt, he looked every inch the normal suburban male. It just seemed wrong.

"Excuse me. But what are you doing here?" He asked, not exactly what you were expecting him to say.

"We're looking for help. Sam's getting worse." Dean explained, carefully walking down the stairs to his old friend.

"Who is this Sam you are talking about? Where's my wife?" Cas continued, his stance defensive.

"Cas, what are you talking about? You know who Sam is." Dean argued, but you placed a warning hand on his shoulder. Leaning close, you whispered in his ear.

"Dean, I would tread carefully here. He's acting like he doesn't remember us. Like he's ready to run. Maybe dealing with the Leviathan really messed with him." You suggested.

"Listen, you're in danger." Dean blurted out. "We need to get you away from here before they come back for you."

"Who? What about my wife?" Cas argued, and you stepped forward, trying your luck.

"Listen, Cas." You started but he interrupted you.

"Why do you call me that? My name is Emmanuel. Unless you knew me before..." He thought, squinting closely at you.

"We did. You were our friend, and we were heartbroken when you were lost. But your wife is Dead, and you're in danger. So, Emmanuel, if that's what you want to be called. We need to get you out of here as quick as possible and then we can answer all of your questions then."

Glancing up at the house, you could sense his weariness. "Okay." He replied. "I don't know why, but for some reason I trust you."

Following behind you, he slid into the backseat of the Impala, seeming pretty calm for someone who just found out his wife had been murdered.

railing be?