Meg was pacing up and down the motel room. Both Sam and Dean had turned off their phones, so she had no idea if they had found Cas yet or not.
“Screw you, Dean” she growled and she walked to the door, forgetting it was locked. “Damn it!”
“I see you could use some help” Anna said from behind Meg. Meg turned around in fear. She never felt comfortable around angels, even now that she was a human. Anna quickly walked towards Meg. “I hope you’re trying to get out so you can go to Cas?” she said in an interrogating tone.
“You know where he is?” Meg asked agitated.
“You could say that” Anna replied dark and Meg frowned.
“What is it?” she asked slowly.
Anna looked up and back at Meg. “I’m not supposed to talk to you about it, but I think you should know” she paused, waiting for Heaven to strike. It didn’t and so she continued. “Cas has gone crazy. He killed two men and he’s torturing a third. I tried to make him stop, but he wouldn’t listen. He said they deserved it”

Cas opened the buttons on Frederik’s shirt. He placed the sword against the right side of his chest.
“Let’s play a game” he whispered. “I’ll call it the pot calling the kettle black” He pierced the point of the sword into Frederik’s flesh and started forming a letter. “You thought I did something. I was found innocent. The so-called victim clearly stated I did not do what you accuse me off. And yet you believed I was guilty and so you took matters in own hands. You punished me for my crime” He put the letter on the cabinet and started a new letter. “And now I’ll punish you for yours” he said bitter, ignoring Frederik’s screams.
“What are you doing?” a voice asked upset and disgusted.
Cas turned around and faced Anna. “Would you mind your own business, please?” he snapped hostile, before turning around to continue his torturing.
“Why are you doing this?” Anna asked, getting angry.
“Because this man did something bad” Cas explained vaguely, while he cut out the third letter. “And he deserves this”

Dean slowed down in a street near the café. A few yards further a police van was parked. Yellow stripes marked a crime scene and people in white costumes were discussing with people in black costumes.
“You think it’s Cas?” Sam asked, looking at Dean from the corner of his eye.
“If it’s not, I’m fairly certain he’s got something to do with it” Dean replied dark, before getting out of the car. He walked steady to the crime scene as he pulled out one of his fake ID’s. “FBI, what do you got?”
“Man, 43, looks like he’s strangled to death” the coroner said. He took a step back so Sam and Dean had a clear view on the body.
“Are those…hand prints?” Sam asked as he saw the imprint of a right hand on the man’s throat.
The coroner nodded. “I’ve never seen anything like this”
Dean felt someone poking him and turned around. It was the owner of the café, who had denied high and low that he’d seen Cas.
“Can I talk to you alone?” he asked accenting. Dean looked shortly at Sam, then back at the owner. “Yeah, sure” he responded and he walked away from the crowd. “What is it?”