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13 November 2016 @ 04:18 am
Poisk Istiny [Finding Truth] - Chapter Two B  
Krushnic Family Home
132-140 Peninsula Way
Lake Placid, New York

Castiel pulled up in front of their family home and got out of his car, heading towards the left most path to the back of the property where the Krushnic graveyard was located. It had been a week now since Kali’s death and Gabriel hadn’t traveled back to the city since her funeral. As Castiel walked down the gravel paths, he could see Gabriel sitting cross-legged at the end of Kali’s grave, the dirt just starting to sprout new grass. Castiel took his time approaching his brother, watching as Gabriel pushed up to his knees and rubbed the cold, black marble headstone, tracing each letter of Kali’s name and the Malen'kiy Angel right below it. Gabriel had settled on Little Angel in their mother tongue to honor his child that had been so cruelly taken from him. Castiel hated seeing Gabriel like this, weak and pale, and he knew his brother had probably been sitting here since dawn, just talking to his Mate’s grave, to his unborn child. Castiel switched the roses he carried to his other hand and let out a slow breath, grateful that today at least he was bringing his brother good news.

Gabriel turned when he heard approaching footsteps and gave Castiel a small smile.
Mladshiy brat, what are you doing here?”

Castiel walked up to the grave and kissed his fingers before bringing them down to the headstone and laying his flowers with the other bouquets and potted plants around it. “I came to check on you Gabriel. You haven’t been home in over a week...”

Gabriel sighed. “I just miss her so goddamn much, Castiel. I can't go back to that house knowing she won't be there, knowing that's where she died.”

Castiel placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Then we will find you a new home Gabriel, but you can't continue to go on like this.”

Gabriel gave him a sad smile. “She would kick my ass if she could see me now.”

Castiel hummed his agreement. “I have news for you, Gabriel. I know the name of the soldier who carried out the hit on Kali and I know where he will be tonight.” Gabriel stiffened by his side as Castiel continued, “Are you up for this?”

Gabriel clenched his jaw. “Yes, I have waited for this all week, Castiel. I will call Michael, Lucifer, and Balthazar. They will want to be there. Give me his name and the location of where he will be. I will have our Boyeviks from the security group pick him up. I want to use the Black Room.”

Castiel nodded. “We will get the Chernaya Komnata set up together.” He stood and looked down at his brother with a soft smile. “Come now, Gabriel, you need to eat first.”

Chernaya Komnata
403 Brightwater Avenue
Brighton Beach, NY

The Krushnic brothers had been at it for hours, taking turns trying to break the 116th Soldier that had carried out the hit on Kali. The Black Room smelled strongly of sweat, blood, and vomit. David, the man who had slain Kali, was bound to a chair with thick nylon rope. Castiel was currently using pliers to remove the man's fingernails, one by one.

He howled as Castiel peeled his thumb nail slowly away from the skin, bright red blood blossoming to the surface. “I’m starting to lose my patience with you, David. I mean, this was fun at first! But now? It's becoming tiresome.”

Castiel jerked the pliers back, ripping the nail completely off and causing the man to curse. “Fuck you! I will tell you nothing.”

Castiel backhanded him across the face with the pliers, knocking his front tooth out. “I want every name that was involved with the hit on Kali Krushnic!”

David spat out a glob of blood and laughed. “Just kill me, I will give you nothing!”

Castiel opened his mouth to speak but stopped when Michael cleared his throat and motioned for Castiel to join them. Lucifer had his cell phone pressed to ear speaking in Russian to one of the Boyeviks from the security group. Castiel could tell by the smile that spread across his face that he had something. Castiel dropped the pliers on the table with a loud clank and walked over to where his brothers stood leaning against the wall to watch as he tortured David.

Lucifer ended his call and turned to Castiel. “I have all their names and addresses. Our Boyeviks from security have been very busy. Besides David, here, four other men were included.”

Castiel nodded and turned to Gabriel. “Do you want to take care of David since he is no longer of use?”

Gabriel pushed off the wall. “With pleasure.”

David laughed when Gabriel walked up to him. “You’re back? Is it your turn to play now?”

“I'm not here to play,” Gabriel said calmly, his voice pitched low. He leaned forward to meet the man’s eyes and whispered, “I'm going to kill you. We no longer need you. A member of your crew gave up the names and even the addresses of the four other men that assisted you.” Gabriel reached for the gun lying on the table beside the other various instruments of torture.

“She begged for her life you know, for her life and your unborn child’s,” David taunted.

Gabriel gripped the gun and pointed it at the man's face. “I'm going to take great pleasure in listening to your wife beg, because when I'm done with you,” Gabriel smiled coolly, “I'm going to kill her.”

“N--” David's protest died on his lips, his eyes wide as Gabriel pulled the trigger, shooting David between the eyes. He turned to face his brothers and Castiel strode over to him and wrapped an arm around him.

“Do you want to finish this tonight?” Castiel asked as Gabriel leaned into him.

“Yes.” Gabriel nodded. “I will never be able to find peace until we kill every one of those fuckin’ prisoski petukhs that were involved.”

Castiel glanced at his other brothers. “Pack up your weapons of choice. Balthazar, get the Expedition ready, and moi brat'ya, prepare for a long night.”

Castiel Krushnic’s House
4140 Ocean Avenue
Brooklyn, NY

Castiel had been right about it being a long night. He pulled into his driveway a little after four am with Gabriel in tow, both of them worn out and covered in blood. He was glad Gabriel had chosen to stay in the city at Castiel’s own house and hadn’t tried to make the five hour drive back out to their family home up North. Castiel was also glad that Gabriel had chosen his residence to stay at.

Together they stopped by Gabriel’s house, though Castiel was the only one to go inside, and he gathered his brother’s clothes. Although Gabriel hadn’t asked him to, didn’t acknowledge the car even stopping outside of his and Kali’s home, Castiel knew that after the night they just had and their talk earlier in the day that Gabriel was grateful for both the clothes and for not being asked to go inside. Gabriel would have broken down the moment he walked through those doors and was flooded with the memories of Kali.

After Castiel got Gabriel set up in one of the spare bedrooms, they both showered and changed into sweats and t-shirts. Castiel went over to his bar and grabbed a bottle of Vodka and two tumblers. He dropped a few cubes of ice in each glass and motioned for Gabriel to follow him. When Castiel walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa, Gabriel joined him. He filled the glasses and passed one to his brother, taking a moment to sip his drink before looking at him. “How do you feel, brat?”

Gabriel shrugged and tossed back his drink, immediately reaching for the bottle and re-filling his glass. “I'm glad I got revenge for Kali’s death, but it doesn't bring her or my child back. I will never see her beautiful smile again, Castiel... I will never hold my pup. I will never have the sem’ya that I always wanted.”

Castiel shook his head. “Moy brat, don't think like that! You know Kali would want you to live your life, to find someone that makes you happy and would give you the family that you crave.”

Gabriel sighed. “I just feel like I will be betraying her if I move on.”

Castiel set down his drink and turned to face his brother. “No, you would be betraying her if you didn't live your life, Gabriel. Kali was so free spirited and she loved you so much. Do you think she would want you to spend the rest of your life mourning her, sitting by her grave day after day and not truly living?”

Gabriel shook his head.

“Exactly.” Castiel picked up his drink once more, taking a small sip before he spoke, “So you need to honor her by making the most of your life.” He raised his glass in a toast and waited for Gabriel to do the same. “Grieve, my brother, love her memory and grieve their loss, but do not stop living while you do so.”

Gabriel finished his drink and set the glass down beside Castiel's. “You are right.” Gabriel gave him a small smile and Castiel watched as his brother forced himself to relax back against the couch.

“I can’t be there anymore, Castiel. She’s in every room of the house, she had a say or a touch in everything. I can’t… If I ever want to move on, it can’t be there. I need to love her from afar for now. Can I stay here with you while I look for a new house?”

Castiel smiled. “Of course you can live here. Take your time, stay as long as you like.”

The brothers sat there in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts until Gabriel spoke. “Castiel? Do you ever think of having a sem’ya of your own? I mean other than the Bratva, just you and someone you can love?”

Castiel huffed a hollow laugh. “No, you know it's not possible for me, Gabriel. Why should I even entertain such thoughts?”

Gabriel looked over at him. “But if you weren't Pakhan would you want your own family?”

Castiel picked up his drink and swallowed it down. “But I am Pakhan, it's all I know and all I will ever know. I have accepted that.”

“Castiel that sounds so… lonely,” Gabriel whispered.

Castiel made himself smile as he looked over at Gabriel. “I have my brothers, why would I ever need more?”

Gabriel stared at him for a moment, biting on his lower lip as he slowly shook his head. He reached over and patted his brother’s shoulder as he stood, Gabriel’s hand was a warm, comforting weight. Castiel watched as his brother walked to the staircase heading to his room and looked up when he paused.

“We will always be your family, but there’s nothing like being in love, Castiel. And everyone wants that.”

Gabriel smiled sadly at him and left the room, leaving Castiel alone with his thoughts.

Boston Autoport
100 Terminal Street
Charlestown, Massachusetts

Dean nodded once, reaching for his sunglasses in the center console of Benny’s Land Rover and slipping them on before he exited the vehicle.

“Prepare yourself, Boss,” Benny warned as he rounded the front of the car and joined Dean as they walked across the pavement. Dean grunted his reply and they walked the rest of the way across the parking lot.

Dean’s late Grandfather, Henry Campanella --the last time the Patriarca family actually sounded Italian-- had gotten their family involved with Massport’s Autoport for their shipping and receiving needs. It was made even better when John opened up Winchester Auto and they had a legitimate automobile business as their front.

As some of the workers at the Autoport stared at them as they passed by, Dean felt himself cringe internally at the looks they were given and couldn’t help but wonder what his father would think if he saw him now.

John Winchester had married into the family when he took Mary Campanella as his wife, rare but not impossible, and had spent years proving himself to the established family that he was good. Good enough to be boss, and he accomplished just that.

When John took control of the family, he eliminated two smaller factions of other families in the area and got their sales and distribution to double in less than four years. It was a hell of a lot to live up to -- no one wanted to fuck with John Winchester. As Dean passed by a few more of the workers he felt his stomach twist. If he couldn’t get this bullshit with the 116th under control… he was going to ruin the Winchester name.

“Alfie!” Benny called out from beside him, ripping Dean from his thoughts and pulling him back to the present. “Hey, man, how’s it going?”

“Good, good.” A tall man walked towards them, pulling a trucker hat further down over his face, and he smiled as he stuck out his hand for Benny to shake, then for Dean. “Got the Winchester shipment just back here… Kept everything on the container. Seems like you, ah, ordered a lot of red parts this time.”

Benny nodded, glancing over at his Boss before they followed Alfie to where men were still working on unloading a large shipment of containers. Brand new cars were being driven out and lined up, the containers being moved around on the tar and the ship itself. Benny pointed to a large blue container and Dean started off in that direction.

“I’ve kept most of my men away from it, but…” Alfie trailed off and Dean ignored him, approaching the front of the container. He wrinkled his nose, the smell of the city ripe in the summertime heat, and then realization dawned. Dean exhaled slowly and then motioned for Benny and Alfie to open up the container.

Beside him, Benny gagged as the stench of blood, rotting flesh, human excrement and fear hit them. Dean looked down to see blood oozing from the base of the container onto the pavement, half congealed as it dripped down to the ground. Alfie had his arm over his mouth, his eyes wide and Dean looked over his shoulder and met the man’s eyes.

“I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no. No police. I will take care of this. Keep your men away from this container for now.”

Alfie nodded quickly, glad to be given an excuse to run away from the container and Dean looked over at Benny. “How many?”

“Shit, Dean…” Benny closed his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep breath and crack his neck before he moved forward. Dean followed where Benny looked; blood painted the walls of the container and the foot lockers that Dean already knew would be empty instead of holding his cargo. There were bloodied stumps, legs and arms and heads detached from their torsos around the floor in pools. Dean counted eight arms, three hands and seven legs from where he stood outside.

“Who are they?” Dean asked, mindful of the blood on the pavement as he stepped forward and leaned in. From the heads facing the opening, Dean didn’t recognize any of the men. Benny shot him a look and then with a grimace, stepped into the container, his boots squelching in the blood.

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Benny muttered and Dean smirked at his friend’s back. He watched as Benny poked around, lifting some of the foot lockers and shaking his head to show that Dean was right-- all of his merchandise had been taken.

“Russians!” Benny called out from the back.

“What?” Dean asked, watching as his friend picked through the bodies and jumped back down to the ground. Benny made a noise of disgust as he kicked as much blood as he could off of his boots and handed a bloodied piece of paper over to Dean.

“This was in the back foot locker. Had ‘Open’ written in blood on it.”

Dean unfolded the paper and squinted down at the thick, black ink;

I thought we had an understanding, a partnership. Your goods are my goods, keep it in the family.

We are paisan. Do well not to forget that, Winchester.

If you keep working with the Russians, it’s your bodies that you’ll find.

And Castiel-- Oko za oko, Pakhan.

Dean stared at the page for a minute longer before he folded it and shoved it into his pocket. “Get someone out here to clean this up. I want the bodies brought to Alastair. He can keep them in the morgue until the Pakhan decides what he wants to do with them.” Dean let his eyes trail back over the mess of the shipment container once more before he turned around to survey the rest of the Autoport. “Send someone out here to keep the lid on this as well, I see some new faces around here and I don’t want any trouble.”

“You got it, Boss.” Benny nodded his head and pushed the container doors closed with a loud metal screech. “So… Russians?”

“Warning for both of us,” Dean answered and turned to head back to the Land Rover. Benny walked beside him, stopping at the back to pop the hatch to switch out his shoes before climbing into the driver’s seat.

“So we really going to do this? Work with the Russians, I mean? Bellomo has never taken the entire shipment…” Benny trailed off as he started the engine and backed out of their parking spot.

“I’m not letting anyone tell me how to do my business, Benny. Bellomo is going to learn that he fucked with the wrong family. If working with the Russians helps me take Bellomo down and teach him a lesson? Then we’re working with them.”

Dean looked over and saw Benny nodding his head slowly. “They’re making me look like a fool, Benny… like I can’t handle my own business.”

“No one thinks that, Dean,” Benny answered quickly, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look at his friend. “Come on, man. This shit happens, and we’re going to teach those fuckers a lesson.”

“Yeah, well, no one would’ve ever tried to pull this shit with my father,” Dean sighed, leaning his head back against the seat rest.

“Sure they did,” Benny argued, “And your old man shut them down just like you’re going to do with Bellomo. We’ve all got your back, Dean. You’ve been a good Boss since you took over from John. If I were to be completely honest, I think you and Sam have a better idea of the ‘whole picture’ than John ever did.”

Dean rolled his head to the side to look at Benny who just shrugged in response. “Suppose I should call the Bratva…”

“You’re not going to have Singer do that?”

It was Dean’s turn to shrug and he ignored Benny’s confused glances as the older man eased onto I-93 towards Quincy. After a few minutes of silence, Dean reached forward and pressed the button for the radio, flooding the car with the classic country station Benny was obsessed with listening to.

“Can’t we listen to--”

“As a friend o’ mine once said, ‘Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole’.” Benny beamed, impressed with himself and Dean rolled his eyes.

“I could just demand you change it…” he muttered and Benny snorted, reaching to turn up the volume.

Dean Winchester’s House
12 Hutchinson Lane
Quincy, Massachusetts

Dean walked into the large kitchen of his home, padding barefoot across the tile as he got himself a glass from the cabinet and water from the fridge door. He slid onto one of the barstools and took a large sip before setting the glass on the marble countertop and pulling his phone from his pocket.

He could have Bobby call one of the Krushnics. But as far as Dean knew, the contact Bobby would use would be Gabriel, and Dean had no clue where Castiel’s older brother was in terms of grieving the loss of his family. Dean supposed that Bobby was more than capable of figuring out who else to call to inform them of the discovery in the shipping container that morning and yet… here Dean was, twisting his cell phone in his hand and contemplating calling Castiel himself.

The Omega had made it clear almost two weeks ago on the last night Dean was in New York that he wanted nothing to do with him. For a little while Dean was worried that when Castiel told him their business was over, he meant everything, their entire deal. But in the morning, both Bobby and Sam had been carbon copied the same email Dean received: a list of contacts in the Bratva, accompanying a request for theirs, as well as finalization for housing for the three Capos and twenty-six soldiers Dean was sending to New York.

Dean pulled the email up now, scrolling to the bottom before back up to where Castiel’s cell phone number was printed. Unorthodox, maybe, to contact the Pakhan himself, but boss to boss in this instance would be warranted. And Dean would be lying if he said part of him didn’t want to hear Castiel’s voice again…

Dean hooked his foot on the bottom rung of the stool he was sitting on and pressed the number and ‘Call’ before lifting the phone to his ear. He listened to it ring a few times before it was picked up, Castiel’s smooth baritone coming over the line.


“He-hey,” Dean coughed, clearing his throat. “It’s Dean. Dean Winchester.”

“I know who this is… The question is why are you calling me and what do you want?” Castiel replied in a clipped tone.

“Well… I have a message here for you.” Dean paused, waiting to see if Castiel would say anything. “Umm, from Bellomo.”

“What? What is this message?”

Dean sighed, wondering if every time he and the Pakhan talked it would end up being like this. “We got a call this morning from the Autoport that my container was… suspicious. So I took a trip down with one of my Capos and we made an interesting discovery. One, all of my shipment was taken by Bellomo and two, he left us both a bloody mess.”


“I have five of your men,” Dean started, “dismembered in my storage container and have been fielding police all freaking day. Bellomo was kind enough to leave the chainsaw he used to take them all apart with a lovely note…” He paused, clicking his tongue in thought before he continued, “Basically, he’s trying to be very clear at how unhappy he is that we are working together. And he left you a note specifically.”

Dean slid off of the stool to reach into his back pocket, pulling out the paper from the container and smoothing it on the bartop before him. “It says… ‘Castiel, Oko za oko, Pakhan.’ Did I say that right? What the hell does that mean?”

“Yeah, you said it correctly.” Silence followed and Dean felt himself pressing the phone harder against this ear. There was no missing the tension bleeding out in the other man’s voice… Just when he was about to ask, Castiel spoke again. “It means, ‘Eye for an eye’. It seems he is pissed because we retaliated after Kali’s death.” Dean raised an eyebrow at the smug tone in the Omega’s voice now. Once again, he was impressed with the Bratva’s no-tolerance policy and wasn’t surprised they had already avenged Kali’s death. ”We found the men involved and took care of them… and their families.”

Dean nodded slowly, then realized Castiel couldn’t see him through the phone.

“Good, I’m glad you found them. That was quick…” Dean stopped and silence stretched out between them. “I… have the bodies. I had them transported to our morgue to keep them until you decided what you want to do with them. There was no identification on any of the bodies.”

Castiel made a noncommittal noise and Dean waited for his response. “I’m leaving as soon as I get packed. I need to come identify my men and inform their families.”

Dean looked down at his watch and did a quick mental calculation. It would take Castiel a little less than five hours to get to Boston and by then it would be almost eight pm. “Should I find you a place for the night?”

“Yes. Set me up somewhere. I will need to identify the bodies and then find a way to dispose of them.” Castiel sighed and Dean knew the stressful situation Castiel was in all too well. “I can't risk bringing back body parts, that's just not feasible.”

“Alright, I’ll work on that. I’ll message you details on where to meet and I’ll take you to the Autoport.” Dean picked up his glass and drained the rest of his water before padding over to place the glass in the sink.

“I will let you know when I reach Boston.”

Dean opened his mouth to acknowledge Castiel, but was met with a click as the call was ended. Dean took a deep breath, pulling the phone away from his ear and checking --just in case-- and then pocketed his phone.

A couple of dead bodies, a meeting with Alastair, and a pissed off Omega. Tonight was already shaping up to be a blast.

Castiel Krushnic’s House
4140 Ocean Avenue
Brooklyn, NY

Castiel walked into the bathroom to pack his toiletries; he knew would be gone for a few days and he needed to name someone to stand in for him while he would be gone. No way in hell would it be Michael or Lucifer... he didn't trust giving them that kind of power, not even for that short amount of time. Balthazar, Castiel briefly considered as he zipped up his suitcase but quickly dismissed that notion, he was too immature.

Gabriel, even in the state that he was in now, was still his best option. It had been two weeks since the death of his wife and unborn child and Gabriel rarely left Castiel's house. He had not been back to Padshiye Angely since the night they had gotten revenge on Kali’s murderers, and that had been almost a week ago. He sold his house four days ago, along with everything inside, and told the buyers to sell or throw away what they didn't want.

Castiel had gone over before the sale to pack Gabriel's and Kali’s personal belongings without his brother’s knowledge. He knew that someday down the road Gabriel would want them, would want the memories, even if he was saying it was too painful now.

Gabe had spent the time since then lounging around in the living area in sweatpants, clicking away on his laptop looking for houses for sale in the area and watching Netflix. He would join Castiel for dinner, getting updates on the Bratva, but spent the rest of his time locked away in the bedroom he was using. Castiel could tell his brother was trying, but just the simple act of sitting down to dinner and listening to highlights from Castiel had Gabriel quickly tiring and returning to his room to go to bed, despite it only being seven.

Castiel sighed as he wheeled his suitcase out of his bedroom. He hated asking this of Gabriel right now, but really? He had no other choice. His job was to make sure the Bratva was in the best hands while he was away and without a doubt that would be Gabriel. Castiel placed his suitcase by the door and went to find him. He was in the kitchen, leaning against the bar eating a bowl of cereal.

“I need to talk to you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel set down the bowl and gave Castiel his full attention; he could tell by the look on the Pakhan’s face this was important. “What is it Mladshiy brat ?”

Castiel sat down at the bar. “I need to go to Boston. I have already packed and will be leaving after this conversation. Don Winchester just called and informed me Bellomo left us a message in his latest shipment via five bodies and a note that stated ‘an eye for an eye’. I need to go identify our men and dispose of their remains.”

Gabriel stood up, nodding his head. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be ready to go.”

Castiel shook his head. “No brat, you will be staying here. I need someone I can trust in charge.”

“Castiel you cannot go--”

Castiel raised an eyebrow and cut his brother off. “Choose your next words wisely, Gabriel.”

“Castiel,” Gabriel huffed. “You know it has nothing to do with you being an Omega. It has to do with you being Pakhan of the Krushnic Bratva. And everything to do with the fact that Don Winchester knows who you truly are. Brother… I do not advise you going alone.”

Castiel sighed and fought back the urge to roll his eyes at his older brother. “I will be fine, Gabriel. I can take care of myself and going alone draws less attention. For whatever reason, Don Winchester has chosen to keep my secret. I highly doubt he would chose now to out me.”

“Castiel,” Gabriel shook his head again and Castiel could see the war of words going on in his brother’s mind. “What if it hasn’t suited the Don’s needs before now? We both know the effect he has had over you so far. I would like to believe all of our allies truly do have our best interests aligned with theirs, but this secret holds the key to everything you’ve built, Castiel!”

“Gabriel,” Castiel cut him off and fixed him with a cold stare. “I did not ask for counsel or permission. All I need to know is that you can handle things here.”

Gabriel met Castiel’s eyes, a flicker of hurt quickly replaced by determination. “You can count on me, Pakhan.”

Castiel stood and walked over to the door before picking up his suitcase. He looked over his shoulder. “I know I can, it's why I chose you.”

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