Chapter Text
“You have to be kidding.” This was the third atm Dean had stopped at but thanks to the bank doing a change of ownership and an overhaul, every atm in the area seemed to be temporarily out of service. So he would have to actually go into a bank. He hated banks. Irritated, he pulled out his phone and texted his brother, who he was supposed to be meeting for their once a month lunch date.
Dean: Atm’s all over the damn city are down. I get fined if I use any other atm, by both the bank I’m using AND my own. Last time I got charged nearly ten dollars! So I’m stuck heading to the bank. I’m hoping the lines aren’t long but the only branch in town is on Wisteria and Grove, so I might be late getting to the restaurant. I wanted to let you know that I’m not standing you up, I just have to stop at the bank first.
It didn’t take long before his brother was texting back.
Sam: It’s ok. I’m running just a little late myself. There was some guy running around downtown with a gun but they didn’t catch him. It was holding up traffic. I am in line now at the pharmacy to get Jess her prenatals. As soon as I leave here though I’ll head over and meet you.
Dean: Sounds good. See you in a few.
Dean tucked his phone into his back pocket and made the trek back to his car. It was twelve blocks to the bank, across the downtown area. He hadn’t gotten a call about someone loose with a gun. At the very least he expected his captain to let him know. They must have the situation under control already, he decided. His assistance wasn’t needed. He drove through the Saturday traffic and parked in the first available, non-handicapped spot in the bank parking lot. After making sure his gun holster was hidden well beneath his jacket and flannel, he went inside. As a cop he carried 24/7, but in today’s society people tended to react before they stopped to consider why he even had a gun. The bank was somewhat busy and he made his way over to the table with the little deposit and withdrawal slips. He had gotten into real estate at his brother’s suggestion and it was turning out to be quite lucrative, enough so that he was thinking of retiring by the time he turned forty and just living off the residual income that came from his various properties. It was just a huge pain in the ass when his tenants paid him by check, and it was an even bigger pain in the ass when he could not deposit the check at the nearest atm. Maybe it was time he talked to the bank about setting up a business account that tenants could directly deposit their rent into each month. It would save him having to go around to each building to collect it or wait for them to mail the payments to him.
After filling out the slip he looked around for an available teller. The lines were moving slowly but at least they weren’t terribly long. There was an attractive man in an oversized trench coat standing in the shortest line, so Dean went to stand behind him. The lines, as he quickly realized, were moving more like molasses than he’d anticipated and more than once Dean found himself checking his watch. He was already ten minutes late and still had to drive back across town to meet his brother. With a heavy sigh he rolled his neck to get some of the kinks out.
“Tried to use an atm as well?” The man in front of him asked. Dean lifted his head and smirked.
“Yeah. You’d think they’d fix at least half of them before they take them all down. And this being the only bank they have in town, it’s a real pain.”
“Oh, I quite agree. I generally do my banking online but wouldn’t you know, that’s down as well.” The man sighed heavily and moved up one as the lady at the front of the line left.
“I saw that, but since I don’t have the app and won’t be getting the app any time soon, I couldn’t just scan the check in. I wanted to stick it in the atm but…” Dean waved the check and deposit slip in his hand. “I couldn’t even do that. This is not how you run a bank.”
“I agree. I believe it’s time I start looking for a place with better regards for their customers.” The man said. Dean held out his hand in offering.
“I’m Dean.”
The man smiled as he shook it.
“Castiel.”
“Nice to meet you. You live here or next town over?” Dean asked.
“I have lived in town about two years now. The lower crime rate was very appealing when I was trying to decide where I wanted to live, as was the atmosphere and the people.” Castiel replied. Dean cocked his head and smiled.
“It’s a nice town. So what do you do?”
“I own the Huntsman Pub over on fifth.” Castiel replied. Dean was impressed.
“Really? I go in there most Fridays, after my shift is over. A couple of my buddies and I go there to relax and unwind. I’ve never seen you in there though. It’s usually Gabe tending bar when we’re there.”
Castiel smiled. “Gabe is my brother. I’m generally in the back doing paperwork. I try to run it as efficiently as possible so that I can afford the remodeling that I want to do. The city is after me to do updates to the electric and plumbing, but the place could use a fresh coat of paint and new shelves for the bottles as well. I’m trying to figure out the best way to go about getting all of that done without having to close the bar down for any length of time.”
“Yeah, I deal in real estate and two of the places I own are considered historical landmarks. The rules and stipulations that come with that as to what I am and am not allowed to change are ridiculous.” Dean sighed.
“Do you flip them?” Castiel asked.
“No, I own six apartment buildings. Mostly I rent them out to the university students.”
“Oh, that must be quite lucrative. I should look into that. Perhaps I would make more money to fix the bar up.” Castiel tapped at his chin thoughtfully. The line moved up one person.
For a few more minutes they talked, discussing the ups and downs of running a business, and the different things they each had to deal with. Dean found the man easy to talk to and definitely easy on the eyes. Castiel looked rumpled with his trench coat about two sizes too big and his dark hair in disarray, but the clothing beneath was neatly pressed and he was clean shaven. He had the most beautiful blue eyes that Dean almost felt he could get lost in. It was an appealing thought to invite the man to dinner. He was incredibly attractive, nice, and smart. It wasn’t blatantly obvious whether the man was interested, but he was catching little things, like when he licked his lips as he listened to Castiel talking, he watched those blue eyes flicker to his mouth, or when he smiled, the man’s eyes dilated. It might not be obvious but Dean was damn good at reading people, and he knew Castiel was into him.
“If I’m out of place here, I apologize, but this has actually been a nicer trip to the bank than I expected, and I wanted to know if I could take you out to dinner some time.” He held his breath and waited to see how Castiel would react. Slowly one eyebrow lifted, the man seemed genuinely caught off guard by the question.
“You want to take me out to dinner?”
At least it wasn’t a no…
“Yeah, you’re nice, and easy to talk to.” Dean couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this nervous asking someone out. A soft, shy smile came over Castiel’s face and he looked down at the papers in his hand.
“Oh. It has been very nice talking with you as well. I…” He peered up at Dean through dark lashes that got the cop’s heart beating faster. “I would like that very much. When did you want to go out?”
So Dean had been right! He smiled as his confidence returned in full.
“Well, my evenings are usually free, and unless I get called into work, I’m off on the weekends. Could I maybe take you out tonight? Or tomorrow?”
“My schedule is flexible since I’m really just managing and doing paperwork. I am available tonight. We could perhaps have dinner and then attend a bar that I don’t own?” Castiel’s joke at the end had Dean laughing. He pulled out a pen and wrote the man’s number down on the notepad that he kept in the pocket of his jacket.
“I can swing by, pick you up about seven. Wherever you want to eat, we’ll go.” Dean said.
“How about we kill two birds with one stone and go eat at the Lafayette Brewing Company? Good food, a wide variety of beers and ales.” Castiel suggested. Dean smiled.
“That’s a great idea.”
The lady in front of Castiel stepped up to the teller.
“Finally.” Dean grumbled. Castiel chuckled.
“I know.”
Dean took a moment to look around. The line behind them had grown long and there had to be close to fifty people in the place, not counting staff and security. He recognized one of the men on the security staff as off duty officer Andrew Gallagher. The kid was young but driven, and with a baby on the way he had taken on a second job so he’d have more money. His wife was experiencing a lot of complications and the medical bills after the insurance portion had been paid was expected to be extremely high. Dean knew this because a couple of the guys at work, Victor and Cole had set up a fund to raise money to cover the extra expenses for Andrew’s wife. So far, they had raised about $1,800, but the bill was already estimated to be closer to $10,000. Three times now Dean had donated to the fund, a $100 each time. He liked Andrew and his work ethic, and he worried about his wife Lydia. She was a sweet girl. The other guard was a tall, creepy looking guy that just gave Dean a bad vibe. Upon entering Andrew had smiled and nodded at Dean, but the tall guy, whose name tag read ‘Alistair’ had simply sneered. The cool autumn afternoon had people coming in dressed much the same way he was, with jeans and a jacket He snorted when he saw a girl of no more than eighteen or nineteen come walking in wearing a short dress and strappy sandals. Was she insane? It had to be barely sixty outside! He wasn’t the only one that noticed her either. Alistair was downright gawking at her as she walked up to the table and grabbed one of the slips. Andrew, to his credit, was not paying any special attention to her. He was busy watching everyone. She plopped her heavy bag down and began fishing around inside. If she was looking for a pen, there were several right there on the table. The girl’s purse shifted and fell on the floor, spilling part of her contents and she bent down to retrieve them, drawing the attention of everyone around her. Alistair was practically drooling. Even Andrew was looking, as though he were debating on helping her pick her things up. Maybe it was his cop instincts or maybe there really was something that off, but shortly after the girl in the short dress came in, a man in a light blue suit with a bowtie walked in. He wore a black version of the same trench coat Castiel was wearing. His hair was slicked back and there was something off about his face. Almost like he was wearing a mask... In front of him Castiel made a sound and Dean turned to look at him.
“Oh no…” He sounded frightened and as Dean turned back to look at the man he saw him pulling out not one but two assault rifles.
“Everybody on the floor! This is not a drill!” He shouted. Alistair started and reached for his gun but gun shots rang out across the lobby and then he was falling to the floor unmoving. Andrew was pistol whipped by a second man that had come in behind the man with the assault rifles, and he’d been hit so hard that when he fell, he didn’t move. Dean prayed the man was not dead.
“Get down!” Dean hissed at the people around them. Castiel was frozen but oddly enough, it did not seem to be with fear. He appeared to be on alert, watching the robbers carefully. As Dean suspected, the girl in the short dress was with the other two. The man in the black trench coat tossed her one of the rifles and she quickly moved to the far corner where she demanded everyone get down on their knees. Dean grabbed Castiel’s arm and the arm of the lady in line behind them and pulled them both down with him. The lady was sobbing and he could hear her praying in Spanish. Castiel was silent, watchful, and if he’d had more time to think about it, Dean might have found it unusual, but he was in cop mode now. One life for sure had already been lost. He wasn’t going to let another person get killed.
A fourth man entered, pulling the bank doors shut. He fished the key ring off Alistair’s dead body and locked the doors. Dean calculated his odds. Three of the four were carrying automatic weapons. His own guns were no match for that kind of fire power. Taking them down alone was not an option. The man in the blue suit tossed off his overcoat, sending it flying across the room like a cape. He was giving instructions for everyone to hand over their cell phones. For once Dean was glad he only had his flip phone with him. His main phone he’d left in the car since it was almost dead when he texted his brother earlier. If they actually went through the phones they’d know he was a cop. The flip phone was a personal phone though, and he always deleted texts immediately. Slowly he fished it from his pocket. It too was dead. That was a good thing, actually. From the corner of his eye he noticed Castiel fiddling with his wrist. The man was wearing a watch but it only took Dean a moment to realize it wasn’t a watch at all. It was a Gear, a piece that made it so people could still reach you without having to tote your phone around. It also made it possible to contact emergency services.
“Put it on mute.” Dean whispered. Castiel gave a minute nod, his eyes never leaving their captors. Dean saw the screen light up before Castiel tugged his sleeve down over it. The man in the blue suit was moving amongst everyone, demanding things like jewelry, money, and patting down anyone he felt was lying about having a phone. A lady that had tried to hide hers inside her bra was cracked hard across the face with the butt of the rifle. Dean cringed as he heard her jaw break. He worried about his gun. If they patted him down, they’d find it. Castiel looked over at him, the nervousness he felt shining brightly in his eyes. Dean reached over and took the man’s hand.
“Aww, isn’t this fucking adorable.” The girl spat. Dean whipped his head around to find her standing in front of him, her rifle aimed directly at his head. Fuck, he knew her. She shoved his shoulder with the rifle. “Hand over your phone, queer.”
Dean had to bite his tongue to keep himself from responding with something that would surely get him shot. Instead, he pulled his flip phone out of the front breast pocket and tossed it into the growing pile a few feet away.
“Happy? I haven’t stepped into the twenty first century yet.” He growled.
The look of contempt on her face was terrifying when one was forced to look down the barrel of a fully loaded assault rifle. Dean’s chest hammered hard in his chest though he forced his expression to remain calm. The woman next to him sobbed harder, her breath hitching and it drew their captor’s attention.
“Shut up and hand over your phone!” She snarled.
“No comprendo!” The woman whimpered.
“What the fuck did you just say?” The girl jabbed the woman in the chest with the rifle making her cry out in fear.
“She doesn’t speak English. She told you she doesn’t understand what you’re saying. Let me translate, ok?” Dean held up his hands in a placating gesture. When the girl fell silent and he was sure she wasn’t going to hit him, he turned to the woman next him.
“Senora, darles su teléfono.”
She nodded and reached into her purse to pull it out. The girl snatched it from her hands and chucked it into the pile.
“And thank you for your cooperation!” She moved on to Castiel who quickly handed his over. From there she was moving further down the line.
“Alrighty, folks! We’re going to line you all up there, under the counters. You will sit side by side and shut the fuck up until you’re given permission to speak.” The second man was saying. He was dressed in a tee shirt and ripped jeans, quite differently from the other two. It was actually quite clever, all of them dressing differently. Alone they wouldn’t draw any more attention than what they were aiming for, which was why they had all entered the bank separately. The girl was the distraction, the guy in the suit was the one in charge, and the one in the tee shirt and jeans was no doubt clean up. The fourth guy was dressed all in black with long, stringy black hair that hung in his face. Dean worried that no one was going to make it out of here alive. With Andrew down, he was the only cop in the building, and he was not nearly armed enough to take down four people. With any luck they’d take their money and get out. He was never that lucky.
Outside sirens began drawing closer. Blue suit stood up straighter, head cocked as he listened. The guy in the tee shirt ran to peek out the door.
“Fuck! It’s the cops!”
Blue suit turned his angry glare on the people cowering on the floor.
“Which one of you bastards called the cops?” He demanded. Everyone remained silent. “Fine, don’t want to tell me? Then deal with the consequences. Raising his rifle he swung it in the direction of the people. There were cries of fear, tears, and muffled sobs. Everyone cringed back and Dean was struggling to remain calm. Castiel touched his arm and he looked over, finally seeing the terror in his eyes.
“You, come here.” Blue suit snapped at an older woman. She sobbed loudly as she got to her feet. He grabbed her harshly by the arm and yanked her across the lobby.
“Don’t want to tell me who called? Fine. You’re all expendable to me. I’m here for the money and a little fun. You don’t mean shit to me.”
Before Dean could react, the man had pulled a pistol out of the jacket he was wearing and a shot was going off. The woman collapsed, dead. These people were insane. Every hostage in the room was fucked.