A/N: Hey guys! Thank you for reviewing/reading/favoriting/following this story! Anyway 4th chapter here! Has anyone heard/seen Hunting Time on IG? It is suuuper catchy. BTW, recent episode reaction : SO. MUCH. FEELS. If I cried on the last 5 mins of "Don't Call Me Shurley", I cried on the first 5 mins of "All in the Family" with Dean :'( Man, they got Cas back er, Luci and Metatron died... heroically. Did Amara and Dean just broke up? They prolly did. And Chuck! Can't wait for the Godsquad to go against the Big Bad Darkness. Sigh. Awesome, awesome, awesome.

P.S. I'm really sorry folks if my writing seems a bit stiff. I'm not actually 100% "Pop-Culture Savvy" and I'm not from the US nor my native language is English. So please bear with me, I am trying to improve myself. Though this story may have a crappy and unoriginal storyline, I hope you guys would love reading it. The establishments mentioned in the story are fictional despite the likelihood in real-life. And I haven't fired a real gun in my short life so, let's call it 'hunter's instincts'. (Warning - Cas and Dean bonding time.)

Disclaimer: Eric Kripke, the WB and CW own Supernatural. But they don't own my Soul. Mwahahaha.

CHAPTER FOUR

"It's Hunting Time"

"Dean..."

"For the last time, Cas... shoot!"

After a brief glaring contest with the hunter, Castiel reluctantly faced the target (which looked too far for his preference). He hefted up the .22 caliber LR semi-automatic pistol that Dean procured somewhere inside the firing range. He rehearsed the steps the Winchester drilled in his head - legs apart, back straight, shoulders relaxed and arms steady. He took a second to find balance, the weight of the gun in his hands was unusual but not uncomfortable nor unpleasant.

Cas inhaled then exhaled slowly, aimed and... fired! There was a loud crack, then the bullet punched a hole through the circle nearest the red target. The ex-angel never felt so relieved. He turned to Dean and found the hunter grinning, pride evident in his face. His friend gave him a thumbs-up.

They spent another hour repeating rounds of shooting, Dean switching with him to show off his skills. The hunter shot the bullseye everytime and Castiel not too far.

"That was awesome, man, awesome."

He clapped Castiel on the back. "See? Was that so hard? I swear, Cas, I'm gonna turn you into a great shot!" Dean quipped.

Cas made a non-comittal noise, pretending to act as if the hunter's approval didn't just made his human situation a bit easier, or gave his ongoing existence a meaning - or something like that. "I am a quick learner, Dean."

"That just sounds to me like your bragging," his friend chuckled, "but I think that's good too. Confidence - you'll need it."

Dean tapped the seat next to him to indicate that Cas needed some time-out. He conceded, dragging his weary feet towards the hunter. The ex-angel was yet to get used to the limitations of humanity. It was surprising and disappointing how fast the human body got tired, and how much time and energy it needed to recuperate. Even just standing for a few hours like he did on the firing range made him feel heavy and sweaty. Not to mention, already thirsty and a bit hungry. It was ridiculous. They just ate a mere 4 hours ago and now it's all gone! Life as a human just got harder and harder, it seemed.

Good thing he had Dean, though. The hunter was kind enough to help him get through the process (a very long process, mind) but he was willing to do so, and Castiel was too grateful and too glad to resist.

The firing range they were particularly in only had a few people. Their shots rang randomly, some even wildly, and the angel-turned-human thanked the ear mufflers on his head. He wasn't very convinced of the practical use of these guns but it was interesting firing one.

Dean and Castiel went for another round of shooting before leaving the range. By the time they went out, they were both surprised to see an already darkening sky with a visible moon overhead. Dean figured they could go back to the motel first and change rooms. To hell was he sleeping beside Cas of all people. So call him fussy, or insecure, but a second night all cuddled up with a grown man was not on his bucket list.

Dinner would have to wait.

Cas only raised an amused eyebrow and rolled his eyes at the hunter as Dean explained the predicament. The ex-angel really didn't see the problem there. Yes, it might be strange for normal people but they were, in all sense of the word, not normal people.

He and Dean are friends (if not more than friends), what with the whole 'profound bound' about souls and grace that he himself doesn't even understand, and brothers-in-arms, possibly what might come close to being a real family. They've been through so much - the apocalypse, leviathans, purgatory. So it really wouldn't be unusual for them, but Castiel didn't bother to express any of those things to the older Winchester. It was better to leave Dean with his masculinity issues and deal with it than making it more difficult for his friend.

Speak of the devil and he shall call you on it. "Don't judge me," Dean said gruffly. Cas shrugged, playing at nonchalance, "I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, but you might as well have 'cause I can freaking hear you thinkin' 'bout it!"

Dean stomped away to get their things and refused to acknowledge the ex-angel's presence, even as they got odd looks from the motel clerk when the hunter asked to change to a two-person bedroom. He was definitely not sulking about Cas having that knowing look when people think he's acting too 'butch' (thanks Sammy). Definitely not sulking.

After cooling his head, Dean resolved to put the entire matter off of his mind and hollered at Castiel to get his ass in the car. His awkward friend had the decency to look apologetic as he trudged toward the Impala and leaned on Dean's window. "I see you've stopped sulking. If it's of any consolation, I apologize."

The hunter put on a smirk, "I don't know what you're talkin' about, Cas."

The night passed by in a blur, Castiel only paying attention to certain things, like food and angel radio.

They still went to Hot Mama's and their meal consisted of pizza and pasta, and on Dean's insistence - beer. He didn't remember much of dinner but he did remember the Winchester smugly teasing him, "C'mon Cas, you're better than this! One bottle and you're hammered?"

It was hazy but he may or may not have chucked Dean's head not-so-lighty for laughing at him. It would've left a considerable bump if he did. Alcohol certainly had different effects on his human and angel physiologies.

Cas was embarrassed to say the least but thankfully, he sobered up by the time they went back to the motel. Dean unceremoniously collapsed on his bed as Castiel settled comfortably on his. He immediately opened angel radio and delved into it, concentrating on the voices in a sort of meditative trance.

By the time the ex-angel was shaken by Dean, it was nearing sunrise. The hunter's sleep-mussed hair stood up in all directions, spiky looking, and Castiel wanted to comment on it. He didn't however, since he wasn't even aware of his eyes slowly closing. The last thing he remembered before sinking in blissful oblivion was a gentle hand guiding his shoulder to the pillow. He slept soundly, though he never dreamed...

When Castiel woke up, it was to the delicious smell of waffles and the promise of caffeine. He saw Dean already sipping on a cup, reading what looked like a stack of newspapers. There was a missing person notice on the back with the picture of a 20 something year-old woman. The hunter looked up from his spot on the coffee table and greeted the ex-angel. "Good morning, Cas. Nice bedhead."

"Not particularly," Cas stated as he blinked away sleep and got up, stretching as he did. "I feel like a cherub on his first day of training though." He curiously touched the ruffled mess on top of his head and couldn't stop the image of Dean's porcupine hair popping up in his mind's eye.

That piqued the Winchester's interest. "And how would you describe that exactly?" Castiel struggled to find a word but came up with nothing appropriate. "It is... grueling," close enough, "I believe I wouldn't be able to flap a feather."

Dean snorted on his coffee, "Dude, did you just referenced an angel version of 'lift a finger'?"

"I... believe so?" Human expressions were still abstract to him at this point. Castiel left the hunter to his amusement and grabbed a waffle and a cup of coffee. He inhaled the sweetness of the food before digging in.

Dean steepled his fingers as he faced Cas on the other side of the table, newspaper and drink temporarily forgotten. "So? Any word on angel radio?"

"It's..." Castiel paused, his mouth full, then gulped before continuing, "strange. Ezekiel's name isn't mentioned once and I didn't sense any trace of his voice - or grace, for that matter, and believe me, I've gone through every angel chatter there is."

That wasn't very comforting at all. "And you know all these angels?" Dean asked.

"I'd like to think that I know every angel in creation. So yes, Dean, I know all these angels," Cas snarked, apparently feeling insulted at the question.

"Just checkin'" the hunter muttered, already imagining the worst case scenario. He was itching to confront the son of a bitch who was wearing his little brother. "So now what? This Zeke's an imposter? Is that it?"

Castiel sensed Dean's distress, and knowing the hunter, he was probably thinking of something stupid to do. "We shouldn't rush into this one, Dean. If he truly is Ezekiel or not, he's still an angel... and we're short of one at the moment." The unspoken apology was evident in his voice.

"Yeah. Yeah I know, it's too soon to act, I get that," Dean sighed, not wanting to make Castiel re-evaluate his self-worth and simultaneously do something the hunter'll regret later. "The only sure thing to make the bastard leave is for Sam to eject him, and that's a no-go. One word and Zeke'll show up all high 'n mighty like he owns the show."

Castiel thought on the Winchester's words, "But it is possible to talk to Sam without Ezekiel (or whoever he is) interfering. There is a spell - a sigil - that can temporarily trap the angel in the vessel's farthest subconscious."

"Wha - You serious?" A nod. "That's fan-freakin'-tastic, Cas!" Dean blurted, wide-eyed. "For how long?"

Castiel smiled, pleased to have contributed a solution to their problem. "Long enough for you to convince Sam. I could teach you the spell so you can cast it when the time is right." The ex-angel knew Dean won't be thrilled telling the ugly truth but it'd be worth it. And this would mean Cas would remain far from the Winchesters until Sam was cured.

The hunter read his mind, "This means we'll have to wait 'til Sammy's good enough."

Cas was a big boy but Dean was still reluctant to leave him here. There were angel factions gunning for a peep of his trenchcoat and he was as prepared as a newborn huge-ass baby.

His friend mustered a small smile. "I'll be alright. Contrary to what you think, I'm not a baby."

Dean rolled his eyes. Yeah, right.

Man, their plans were looking up but they still have some downsides. He supposed all good plans were like that. The older Winchester figured it was time to blow off some steam and worry about the things they can actually control. Like saving people, hunting things - the family business. And it's not like Cas's doing anything right now. With his Enochian tattoo and proper warding, he'd get through the day without some random angel spotting him as 'the rebel' Castiel.

He was flicking through different newspapers, collecting information for a possible hunt while the ex-angel was snoozing earlier. The Winchester found some weird ones - supernatural weird - and thought that it was time for a job. He was sure there was nothing angelic with the murders so it was safe to say that Cas could help out on this one. Just this once.

The hunter glanced at his now-human friend, nose buried on a newspaper article and felt a little uncertain. If Cas wanted to hunt, that is. Dean should've figured he spoke too soon.

"There is something very wrong going on in this town, Dean. Shall we check it out?"

"No, lose the trenchcoat, man. We don't want some winged asshat recognizing you," Dean scolded as he yanked the apparel from Castiel's hands.

The hunter somehow understood his friend's attachment with the coat, like his attachment to Dad's journal and the Samulet (before he threw it in a trashbin). He knew the trenchcoat was a symbol of everything Castiel stood for but they really shouldn't take unnecessary risks. "Sorry buddy, but you ain't wearing this."

Cas mournfully gazed at the simple tan trenchcoat. He looked at Dean then and the hunter swore if anyone could trump Sam's puppy-dog eyes, it'd be Castiel's pleading angel ones. "But can we buy it, Dean? I promise I won't use it in public."

Dean's jokes about Castiel being a baby wasn't far off the mark (Cas, you child). The older Winchester sighed, not really wanting a repeat with this situation everytime the ex-angel sees a trenchcoat in a clothing store. And they were in a clothing store, trying on proffesional-looking suits for a cheap price. They were playing Feds and were going straight for the morgues before interviewing families, but Cas just had to find a lone tan trenchcoat lying on top a pile of crap.

"Fine," Dean conceded, handing it back to Cas's waiting arms. "But be responsible." That came out a little wrong. And they were treating it like freaking pet for chrissakes!

His friend was too happy to acknowledge the hunter's words. "Thank you, Dean," Castiel said, his voice taking on a happy tone. Well, who was Dean to stop his friend from being happy? It sure wasn't gonna be him.

They hurriedly bought their disguises and dressed, looking every bit of a pair of Federal Agents. Except for Castiel's tie, that is. It seemed turning human didn't cure his awkward fumbling with the necktie, and the blue-striped piece of cloth was facing backwards. Dean had to re-knot the tie, giving Cas a stern expression as he did so. The ex-angel helplessly shrugged.

"You still got that FBI I.D. I gave you?" Dean asked while checking their gear.

"Yes."

"Good. First up, Holy Trinity Hospital."

The job Dean and Cas found in the newspapers involved 3 missing people and 6 unexplained deaths. The manner of injury wasn't explained in the articles, only describing them as 'gruesome' or 'animalistic' in nature. The weird thing about it all was that the every victim died at the same day around noon. Local authorities searched but never found anything suspicious or unusual in the crime scene. And the most recent death was dated only two days ago.

The drive to the hospital was uneventful except for Dean's sing-along with an ACDC song on the radio. Cas didn't know if he liked the hunter's choice of music or not but the thought of going on a hunt felt right, peaceful even. He'd always liked the idea of helping and saving people, especially from the creatures they didn't know were dangerously real. Castiel always had a deep respect for the Winchester brothers' line of profession ever since he was assigned to Dean.

"I want to become a hunter," Castiel suddenly proclaimed as the older Winchester was just hitting a particularly high note. He faltered shamefully.

That wasn't what the hunter had in mind when he decided to take Cas along for the ride. This was supposed to be a one-time thing!

He poked his friend with an incredulous eye, "The last time you said that, you were brainwashed in angel academy." Castiel folded his arms stubbornly, staring the hunter down, "Didn't you say I was a hunter-in-training? I want to be a real hunter, Dean."

"You uh-you sure, buddy? Hunting monsters ain't actually the apple pie life." Cas becoming hunter? That spelled all kinds of disaster.

The ex-angel snorted, "I've failed as an angel. I don't think I deserve an 'apple pie' kind of life- ." Again with the air quotes. "-and being human doesn't really offer you a more noble work than hunting and saving lives." He dared Dean to refute that.

The hunter deflated. Did he have any friends who strayed from the dark and dangerous? Fuck no. Most of his friends were dead. But then again, this is Castiel. He was the captain of a garrison in Heaven and probably could disarm any type of opponent in a blink of an eye. He's surely a better fighter than Dean. Yeah, the older Winchester just had to trust his friend's battle experience to keep himself alive.

"You do remember you were a crappy hunter? Don't come crying to me when something goes wrong," Dean grunted. He spotted Cas smiling in triumph and the hunter internally groaned. Castiel's, angel-of-the-lord-turned-human, status as a hunter is now official. Just friggin' awesome.

They entered the Holy Trinity Hospital morgue after a brief review of fake identities and possible cover stories. The pair found the coroner wheeling in a fresh corpse, no doubt from one of the many patients inside the building. Dean showed him his badge, "FBI. Agents Smith," Cas didn't miss his cue and to the other man's relief, showed his own badge perfectly upright,"and Moscone. We're here for the 6 unexplained local deaths in the past 3 months."

"Ah, that case. It's been labeled 'unsolved' by the police. I didn't know you Federal guys paid attention to small deaths, don't get me wrong, I'm relieved the FBI's here." The coroner rambled on, obviously a bit flustered. He looked like he was in his early-30s, probably a new guy and haven't met (fake) national authorities until now.

"We monitor all kinds of criminal activities sir, and this one showed up in our scanners. Strange deaths are one of the FBI's specialties after all," Dean lied smoothly, even winking imperceptibly at Cas. He winked back, none too subtly but the coroner was thankfully not paying enough attention.

The guy nervously chuckled, "Ah, is that so..."

"May we look at the victim now, sir?" Castiel cut in, wanting to get a move on and impress Dean. The coroner fumbled for his clipboard to get the names of the other victims, pointed at the nearest container, and left them to their own devices.

"Huh. Staying quiet and no awkward commentaries. You've improved, congratulations!" the older Winchester playfully mocked, picking up a pair of gloves with one hand and tossing another pair with his other one to Castiel.

"Okay... Devon Mitchell? Pull that handle, Cas." He pointed to the one with the specified name.

The new hunter wordlessly obeyed, grasping the metal handle and pulling out the cold unmoving body of Mr. Mitchell. Cas tilted his head to the side, observing the corpse that was laid up in front of him like an interesting specimen under a microscope. "There is something missing," he deadpanned.

"No shit, Sherlock. His chest's a gaping hole. I say, Werewolf," Dean pushed the body back into place and faced his friend. "Bet all the victims have missing hearts. Time for a little 'trick or treating'."

The hunter dumped the surgical gloves in the trash with practiced precision and turned towards the exit.

"But it's not Halloween..." Cas muttered, aiming a confused look on Dean's retreating back. He hurried to catch up with the hunter - they had a job to do.

Sorry for the not-so-hot ending, I had to leave it at that cuz so many things'll happen next chap. Dont wanna deplete my resources before the big drama. Anyway so sorry if its slow-going, as I said, still new at this but I'm doing my best! Any comments or reactions? Please R&R and Fav&Follow :)