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FBI Headquarters, Quantico Virginia: SSA Dr. Spencer Reid enters the familiar FBI offices of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, taking a moment to breathe in the familiar smell of paper and freshly made coffee before making his way over to his desk in the bullpen. Setting his bag down in the familiar space, Reid is quickly interrupted by a warm body suddenly wrapped around him, lifting him from the ground. “Reid! The boy genius is back!” Alvez exclaimed as he lifted the doctor. “Luke! Put me down!” Reid shouted at the same time, thrashing in the vice grip of friendly death. “Fine, just glad you’re back, pretty boy,” Luke ruffled Spencer’s hair after setting him back down. “Spence!” J.J. called as she, Tara, Penelope, Rossi, Simmons, and Emily made their way toward him, each giving him a hug of their own. “Glad you’re back, kid,” Rossi said, patting Reid on the shoulder. “It’s good to be back,” Spencer smiled at his friends, his family. Prentiss was about to speak when her phone went off. With a glance her face fell into ‘business mode’ and she cleared her throat to get the team’s attention. “Looks like we have to cut this short, we’ve got a case.” Prentiss made for the round table, the team falling in behind her.
Penelope pulled up the case on the TV screen; “Akron, Ohio. The Miller family, Lyle Miller was found with a stab wound to the back and his throat ripped out, most of his blood drained. Mellissa Miller’s tongue was ripped out by the second UnSub who proceeded to kidnap Brady and Nathan Miller. Mrs. Miller drew this for the police.” The pictures were gruesome as always and the drawing of the skull masks by Mrs. Miller was little to go on. Police hadn’t found fingerprints or DNA at the scene. “The ripping out of Mrs. Miller’s tongue speaks to sadism, while Mr. Miller’s death looks like an animal was involved,” Alvez observed. “And why take the kids? This doesn’t read as paedophilic, more as though the wife is the focus of the crime. Her husband killed, children taken, and tongue cut out so she’ll always be reminded of the night.” Rossi added, swiping through the pictures of Mrs. Miller from the hospital. “Well, whatever the reason, we have to assume those kids are alive and it’s already been three hours. Wheels up in 30.” Emily stood from the table, signaling for the team to get a move on.
Akron Police Station, Akron, Ohio: “I’m SSA Prentiss, these are SSAs Alvez and Jareau. Where can we set up?” Prentiss introduced herself, Alvez, and J.J. to the Sheriff. Rossi and Reid were at the crime scene while Tara and Simmons had gone to the hospital to speak with Mrs. Miller and examine Mr. Miller’s body. “Right over here, the conference room already has boards and evidence boxes. Thanks for coming out to help, agents. We haven’t had a case like this in nearly 20 years.” The Sheriff said as he lead the three agents back through the station. “You mean this has happened before?” J.J. questioned. “Oh, yeah, before my time though. I was just a deputy when the first set happened. The husband was stabbed and bled, the wife got her tongue ripped out, and the kids were taken. Never found those rugrats, hope to God we can do better this time.” The Sheriff got a far-off look in his eyes as he held open the door to the conference room. “Let us know if you need anything, agents.” The Sheriff left to do something else. “Luke, have Garcia pull up any cases like this one going back at least 50 years. We need to see how many times this happened before.” Prentiss ordered as she and J.J. started setting up the boards.
The Miller House, Akron, Ohio: “Right this way, agents. Your partners are already inside.” The Deputy held up the crime scene tape for Reid and Rossi. “We don’t have any other-” Reid cut himself off as he and Rossi pulled their guns on the two tall men in front of them. They were dressed in cheap suits, one had long brown hair and the other had short blond hair. “FBI! Freeze, hands behind your head and on your knees!” Rossi shouted at the two men. They looked at each other, having a silent conversation before doing as they were told. “Sam and Dean Winchester, you’re under arrest,” Reid stated as he motioned for the deputies to cuff the brothers.
Akron Police Station, Akron, Ohio: “I’ve found 20 other cases like this across the midwest since 1986, and I’m not even close to done looking.” Garcia stated over the phone. “What the Hell has been going on around here?” Prentiss questioned, turning to face the phone. “No clue, Emily, but I’ll keep digging until I find what it is,” Garcia replied. “Yeah, thanks, Garcia,” J.J. replied before hanging up the phone. A few more minutes of head scratching passed, Tara and Simmons had since returned from the hospital, no new information to be had, when Rossi, Reid, and two deputies crashed through the doors, hauling two men in cheap suits off to separate interrogation rooms. “What happened?” Prentiss directed towards Rossi as she barged out of the conference room. “The Winchester brothers; they were at the crime scene impersonating federal agents. We arrested them on sight.” Rossi responded, taking a sip of his police station coffee. “You think they have something to do with this?” Prentiss asked. “Maybe, why don’t we go ask the fuckheads?” Rossi sat his cup down and started toward the interrogation rooms.
Dean was sitting with his hands behind his head, feet propped on the metal table causing the chair he was sitting in to balance on the back legs. He was whistling “Dead or Alive” by Bonjovi when Rossi and Prentiss entered the room. “So, Dean,” Rossi started, pulling out his chair. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” Dean reapplied with a devilish smirk that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m SSA David Rossi and this is SSA Emily Prentiss, we’re with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit,” Rossi continued, ignoring the Winchester’s commentary. “You're the serial killer specialists, yeah? Pretty sure Sammy’s got one of your books in the library, you ask me, monsters I get, humans are crazy,” Dean smirked as he righted himself in his chair, hands now folded on the table. “What do you mean?” Emily prodded, making herself as tall as possible, radiating the confidence expected of a Unit Chief. They knew of the Winchesters’ delusions, but she wanted to hear it for herself. “Oh, you know, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, ghouls they all have rules. Patterns. Humans just kill for the hell of it.” Dean stated, voice thick with charm as he made eye contact with Prentiss. “So all these people,” Prentis began as she laid out various photos from crime scenes, “were monsters of some sort?” Dean paled at the sight of the photos, surprising the agents as his psychopathy and narcism would demand him to revel in the kills, to gloat about his accomplishments. Dean then did what he does best: deflecting. “Emily, was it? I know what you’re trying to do, play along and indulge the crazy guy and he’ll slip up. Ain’t gonna work, I want my lawyer.” Dean shut up after that, going back to his previous position and beginning to whistle “Back in Black” by AC/DC. Rossi and Prentiss looked at each other before leaving the room.
Reid and Alvez entered Sam’s interrogation in much the same fashion. “Sam Winchester, I’m SSA Luke Alvez and this is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid.” Alvez plopped into his chair, throwing Sam’s case file onto the table. Sam sat slouched in the chair, hands in his lap as if he were more bored with the current situation than anything until Luke said Reid’s name. “You’re Spencer Reid?” Sam immediately sat up in his chair, leaning forward to look the genius in the eye. “I’ve read some of your papers, I found your thesis, ‘ Identifying Non-Obvious Relationship Factors Using Cluster Weighted Modeling and Geographic Regression. ’ very interesting, my friend made some corrections but I still think your work was fantastic.” Reid and Alvez were both shocked by the sudden 180 in Sam’s emotional state. He was a fan of the young doctor, which didn’t fit with the profile at all. “Yes, well thank you, but we’re here to talk about you. More specifically what happened to the Miller children.” Reid responded, placing the pictures of Brady and Nathan on the table. Sam’s face fell and he looked sad as he viewed the boys. “Sorry, but, I can’t help you. Not from here, at least. We didn’t do anything to that family, I’m sure you have some way of confirming that my brother and I didn’t get here until a few hours ago, well after everything went down. I imagine my brother has already requested our lawyer, he’ll be listed as either ‘Boris’ or ‘King Douche’ in his contacts.” Sam looked at the two agents as they absorbed the information. “We’ll look into it,” Alvez said before dragging Reid out of the room behind him.
“Dean clammed up at the sight of the crime scene photos and demanded his lawyer, please tell me you got something from the other one,” Prentiss started as Luke and Spencer reentered the conference room. “All we got is that they weren’t involved, Garcia just confirmed their alibis. Also, Sam’s a fan of the good doctor here,” Luke smirked at the genius. “Speaking of their lawyer, Sam said he’ll be listed as either ‘Boris’ or ‘King Douche’ in Dean’s contacts,” Spencer spoke up. “Great, definitely sounds like a legitimate lawyer, I’ll call him,” Emily responded, rolling her eyes at the Winchester’s antics. J.J. handed Emily Dean’s phone from the evidence bag. Emily attempted to unlock it, but it required a fingerprint and passcode. “I’ll bring it to him, let him have his one phone call, too.” Simmons offered. Emily handed him the phone, “Take J.J. with you, he might respond better to her.” Prentiss added before waving them off.
“Winchester, I’m SSA Simmons, this is SSA Jareau,” Simmons said as he sat down, sliding the cell phone over to Dean. “Didn’t realize there was a beauty standard for Feds,” Dean joked as he unlocked his phone. “Do I get to make my one phone call before or after I contact my lawyer?” Dean smirked. “After.” Simmons deadpanned. Dean nodded in response as he scrolled through his contacts, choosing one and dialing. “Speaker, you can talk in private once he’s here,” Simmons demanded. “Fine,” Dean pressed the button, the ringing echoing in the interrogation room. After a minute, it went to voice mail; “ Thank you for phoning Crowley, King of Hell. For demon deals, press 1. To report a sighting of that ginger whore, Rowena, press 2. ” A British accent rang out. The agents were taken aback by the voicemail from the supposed lawyer who shared the Winchesters’ delusions but also thought himself the King of Hell. “Damnit, Crowley, pick up your damn phone,” Dean cursed before speaking up, “Crowley, you douche, Sammy and I need some legal help. We’re in the Akron Police Station, come quickly.” Dean hung up the phone before scrolling back through his contacts and phoning another person. “This is your one call,” J.J. reminded him. Dean rolled his eyes, “Speaker for this one, too?” Simmons nodded in response and Dean placed the phone back on the table. It rang twice before a deep voice came through. “Hello, Dean.” the man on the other end deadpanned. “Hey, Cas, Sammy, and I sort of got arrested. We’re in Akron. I called Crowley but he didn’t pick up.” Dean said, a new light in his eyes as he spoke to Cas. “Damnit, Dean. I’m on my way now, do you want me to call anyone else?” Cas responded, sounding tired of the Winchesters’ bullshit. “Not right now, see you soon?” Dean’s lips turned up into a grin. “Yes, love you, goodbye, Dean.” Cas sighed before responding. “Love you too, babe. Bye.” Dean wore a shit-eating grin as Cas hung up. The agents sitting across from him looked dumbfounded. Their profile was just thrown out the window, as far as they knew Dean Winchester was 1: Straight, and 2: Couldn’t maintain a relationship with anyone but his brother. “Who was that?” J.J. was the first to speak. “Cas, Castiel, my husband. He’s great.” Dean had a look of love on his face. Neither agent knew what to say, so they left the room, phone in hand.
“How’d it go?” Emily asked as the agents reentered the conference room. “Well, for one, Dean’s married to a man who goes by ‘Castiel’,” Simmons started. “Castiel, the archangel of Thursday,” Reid interrupted. “Which not only fits with their delusions but would fit as the third party we’ve theorized about,” Prentiss added. “What about the lawyer?” Rossi asked. “Seems to also be delusional, you have to hear his voicemail,” J.J. said as she took the phone and dialed the number, she’d made sure to keep the phone unlocked. After a ring or two, a man with a British accent answered, “I’m busy, Squirrel, make it quick,” The man sounded angry at the eldest Winchester. Emily quickly jumped into action, “This is SSA Emily Prentiss with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. We have the Winchesters in custody and were told that you are their lawyer. I’m requesting that you come to the Akron Police Station in Akron, Ohio.” The man huffed in annoyance before responding, “I’ll be there shortly, you can tell those denim-wrapped nightmares not to worry, Uncle Crowley’s on his way.” The man hung up the phone, only for him to appear moments later and be led into the conference room by a deputy. “Agents, this is Mr. Crowley, the Winchesters’ lawyer,” The officer introduced a shorter man who was a bit heavy set, like someone who spent their days behind a desk. He wore a black suit with a silver tie, both looked custom-made. He carried a large, black leather briefcase and looked more annoyed at the situation than anything. “And this is Mr. Winchester, Dean Winchester’s husband,” the officer motioned to another man who was taller than Crowley, he wore a tan trench coat over a generic-looking blue suit and tie, and his hair looked like he just had sex. “Yes, yes, now let’s go talk to the boys before Dean gets even more wrinkles.” Crowley joked, and Castiel continued squinting his eyes at the agents. “Right this way,” Rossi motioned for Crowley to follow him. “I apologize, Mr. Winchester, but you cannot speak with your…husband at the moment.” Rossi stopped the blue-eyed man. If looks could kill, Rossi would be dead. But thankfully, Castiel obliged and stayed in the conference room.
“Hello, boys,” Crowley greeted the Winchesters who were now in the same room so they could have a legal council. “Boris,” Dean replied, Sam stared daggers at the man across from them. “I say, those silver bracelets look stunning on you, Samantha,” Crowley teased as he sat down. “Just get us out of here, Crowley,” Sam snapped back. “Oh, but we’re having so much fun,” Crowley smirked at the bitch face Sam gave him. “What were you morons doing anyway?” Crowley prodded, turning his attention to Dean. “Just impersonating federal officers to investigate some vampire attack. Nothing out of the usual,” Dean smirked back at his best friend. “Alright, I think it’s time to go,” Crowley snapped his fingers and suddenly, he, the Winchesters, Castiel, and the Impala, were all outside the Bunker. “You owe me a drink,” Crowley said before making his way to the Bunker’s entrance.
Meanwhile, the BAU was in a panic as four men and a car disappeared without a trace.