A/N: So, this story is set in Supernatural's season 4. In case you haven't read my "Unearthly: Season 1" story, I'd recommend to read it first. This is still set in 2013, as you'll find out later, and I'll still re-write the season premiers and finales (in this story, Lazarus Rising and Lucifer Rising respectively). Um, I don't know what else to say. Just... Well, I hope you enjoy this story!

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Supernatural, or season nine would've been different. Also, I wouldn't be posting my stories on FanFiction, now would I?

Lazarus Rising.

Lola.

Hell. That's the word people use when describing the worst case in any situation. But no one really knows Hell. Is it dark? Is it red? Is there fire or ice? What is Hell? What does it look like? Does it even exist? Lola could've answered all of your questions, if the pain hadn't been so blinding.

Torture. Since she'd gone to Hell, they'd tortured her in any possible way. It felt like 40 years had passed since that night, when the hellhounds attacked. And it hadn't stopped. Not until two minutes ago. The person, Alistair's new assistant, was about to torture her. She closed her eyes, hoping he wouldn't. Hoping he'd ask for someone to replace him, at least. Instead, she saw him sharpen the knife. She took a deep breath, but it was hard, breathing in Hell. It was suffocating, all the time. Lola tried once again, but instead of calming her, she started breathing heavily, panicking.

"No," she managed to say. "Please, don't do it," she pleaded. The person just stared at her, then smiled, wickedly. Lola felt tears coming to her eyes. She never would've cried. Not if she were alive. But the pain she'd been through in there had affected her so much, crying was something she did every single day. Torture in Hell hurt way more than torture in Earth, when you were alive, which wasn't comforting at all. "Please," she asked one more time. "Please, I'm beggin' you." Tears rolled down her face, but the self-hatred she felt wasn't as strong as it had once been. The person taped her mouth, so she wouldn't speak, and approached her with the now sharpened knife in his hand, ready to torture her. Lola drew in a breath and closed her eyes.

Silence. There was only silence. She was afraid to open her eyes. Maybe it was Alistair's assistant, trying a new form of torture. Thinking you were saved, then, when you opened your eyes, you realized he was right in front of you, ready to torture you. But she couldn't feel the duct tape over her mouth anymore. She tried to breathe normally, but it was just as suffocating as Hell. She was right. She was probably still in Hell. Maybe he'd taken the duct tape off her mouth to hear her scream. She shuddered at the thought, and realized she wasn't tied up anymore.

Finally, she couldn't bear it. She opened her eyes, and just saw darkness. She started to breathe faster and faster. She was panicking, again. "Calm down, Lola," she whispered to herself. "Calm the fuck down."

She took a deep breath. Then another, and another. And finally, she was breathing normally, though it was still suffocating. She looked in her pockets for something that would light the place up. She wasn't tied up anymore. She found a lighter in her pocket, and lit it up. When she realized she wasn't in Hell anymore, she smiled.

She took another deep breathe and her smile disappeared when she realized she was in a box. A wooden one, at that. Maybe it was a tomb. It sure looked like it. But that would mean she was alive. 40 years had passed since she'd gone to Hell. What if Alex wasn't alive anymore? What would she do? Was Dean even here? Lola doubted it.

She decided to do something she'd done only once before in her life — and she pushed the memory away because of how disgusting that whole day had been — she decided to crawl up until she got to the surface, like in every zombie movie, when the protagonist resurrects. Lola snorted, because in those movies, they always got it wrong. They got everything wrong in every movie, whenever it had to do with the supernatural, they always managed to fuck up. It wasn't even that hard, for fuck's sake!

She took another deep breath, before holding it and kicking the upside part of the box. She put her hands in front of her face as pieces of dirt fell onto it, and did her best to find a space where she could breathe. She thrust her arms forward, and started to dig out. She wanted to reach the surface; she needed to reach the surface.

She held her breath, but she also needed to breathe. When she did that, she looked down, not to get dirt on her face. She did her best not to breathe too much, and just did it when she felt she was about to faint. It was just once, though, and then, her hands didn't feel any more dirt. She smiled involuntarily, and she thrusted her body forward, and as soon as she got her head out of the dirt, the sunlight hit her face, and she exhaled. The first thing she did was to take long, deep breaths, breathe "pure" air. Then she blinked a few times, to get adjusted to the brightness, and looked around. Another grave had been dug up right besides hers. She supposed it was Dean's. That meant Dean was still here. She looked around, and found, behind her, the man himself. She wasn't afraid anymore. When he offered her his hand, she took it, and he helped her get on her feet.

She tried to shake the dirt off her shirt and her jeans. Then looked at Dean, who was coincidentally looking at somewhere else.

She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but no sound would come out of it. She realized she was too thirsty to do that. She closed her mouth and shook Dean's arm a little, enough to catch his attention. Then she made a sign with her hand, telling him to follow her. He nodded, still avoiding to look at her in the eyes. Lola rolled her eyes, annoyed, but walked away from where they'd dug up the graves. She stopped, though. Around their tombs, there was a perfect circle of dead trees, laying on the ground, as if some lightning had made them fall or something. They were in the center of the trees, and Lola shuddered. It was creepy.

Dean.

Dean didn't know why Lola was acting as if nothing had happened. The guilt crushed him, and he felt like he was going to fall down and pass out any minute. Of course, that could've been the hunger and the thirst, but Dean, for some strange reason, was sure it was because of his guilt. He avoided Lola's eyes, always looking somewhere else. He just couldn't handle looking at her in the eyes after what had happened.

They walked until they found a road. Fortunately, it was empty, and they walked down on it, until the found an empty gas store. They exchanged a look — for one second, then Dean looked away — and knew what they had to do.

They searched the store, but there was no one there. The first thing they did was to go after the water, and drank two bottles each. Then they grabbed another two for each of them.

"Not bad," Lola said. She could finally speak. Dean, like her, hadn't been able to speak when he'd dug out of his grave.

"Yeah," Dean said, looking at his left. He found a stash of newspapers. "You think these are today's newspapers?" He asked her.

"Probably. What's the date?"

"Uh…" Dean picked one up. "It says here September 18, 2013."

"What?" Lola asked, with a tone of disbelief. "Let me see." She took the paper off his hands, and stared at the date at the top of the page. "It—it can't be. We spent 40 years down there. Not 4 months."

"I don't know." Dean shrugged. "Maybe time passes different down there. Or maybe we're still in Hell," he added, but he doubted it. If they were still in Hell, he wouldn't feel such guilt.

Lola clearly saw it in his face. "You don't seem very convinced. Let's get ourselves cleaned up, get foor and drinks, then we'll call Sam and Alex, see if they can pick us up."

"Yeah, good idea." He nodded, then they separated. Dean went to put the four water bottles on a bag, and then grabbed some food and put them on another bag as Lola entered the restroom and got herself cleaned up. When she got out, she had her left sleeve pulled up, and in her arm, near her shoulder, there was a mark of a hand, as if someone had put their hand on her and her skin'd had an allergic reaction.

"Dean," she said. "This is not normal, is it?" She wondered out loud. "I didn't have this when we—when we died." Dean noticed she didn't say "when we went to Hell", and he was grateful for that.

He frowned, then lifted his right sleeve. In the same spot where Lola's mark was, Dean had one too. "Maybe who got us out decided to brand us, as if saying 'Hey, look, I rescued them from Hell! I did it! They're mine, leave them alone!'" Dean proposed.

"You're saying a psychopath that acts like a 7-years-old brought us back to life?" Lola stared at him as if he were crazy, which he probably was. "Right." She rolled her eyes.

"Well, I don't see you proposing anything. At least I'm saying something."

"Do me a favor." Lola rolled her eyes again. "If you don't have something intelligent to say, don't say anything. You're not even funny."

"What?" Dean frowned. "Of course I'm funny. You're just jealous."

"Oh really?" Lola raised her eyebrow. "I think you are jealous."

"I'm not jealous. I'm adorable." Dean smiled at her, an adorable smile.

"Oh, go get yourself cleaned up, idjit." Lola smiled a little.

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded, as if he were a good puppy dog, and walked into the restroom, not without hearing Lola chuckle at his antics. As soon as the restroom's door closed behind him, the smile dropped, and he stared sadly at the floor. Then he sighed, and proceeded to get himself cleaned up.

When he got out of the restroom, Lola held up money. "Look what I found."

"Isn't this robbery?" Dean smirked.

"Nope. We're just taking food and money from a store without giving anything in return," Lola answered. Dean stared at her.

"That's what robbery means."

Lola turned at him and faked surprise. "You don't say! I was being sarcastic, dumbass!"

That's when the TV turned on, but there was only static. Dean and Lola exchanged a look, and Lola turned it off. Then a radio at Lola's right side turned on, and there was only static, too. The TV turned on again, and Dean and Lola exchanged another look. Salt, their looks said.

They both ran and grabbed cartons of salt, then started spreading it on the doors and windowsills. But they heard this high-pitched tone, and Dean winced, and covered his left ear with his free hand, while he kept pouring salt over the windowsill, and then switched to another. Then the windows started to break.

Dean couldn't see what was happening to Lola. He tried to keep pouring salt, but the noise was too deafening and he soon dropped the salt and brought his right hand to his right ear, and closed his eyes. Even with that, he still could hear the noise, and it still was deafening. The windows shattered, and Dean launched himself away from them, and hoped Lola had done the same thing. He landed on the floor as bits of glass flew over him. Dean did his best to cover his head and chest, but he couldn't see much, since he'd closed his eyes because of the pain, and he couldn't hear anything either, except for that high-pitched tone.

Suddenly, it all stopped. He slowly got back to his feet and looked around. The store was a mess. Glass was everywhere. Stuff had fallen to the floor, and Dean didn't really feel like cleaning it all up. He looked everywhere, looking for Lola, and he found her, standing up, near the doors. "You okay?" He asked, concerned. She nodded.

"What the hell was that?" She asked.

"I don't know," Dean admitted.

"Well, then grab the bags and let's get the hell out of here!" Lola pointed at the bags that were on the counter, right behind Dean. He grabbed them, and they walked out. Lola walked over to a pay-phone, and dialled a number. "Dammit, Alex," she cursed. "Answer your stupid phone." She dialled again. And again. She didn't try a fourth time, though. "Want to try calling your brother?" She didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she gave him the phone, and took the bags from him.

Dean dialled Sam's number. It went straight to voicemail. He tried Sam's other number, and it also went to voicemail. He tried Sam's other other number, but he didn't pick up either. He sighed, and shook his head.

"Who do we call now?" Lola asked.

"Uh, Bobby?" Dean suggested, and before Lola could answer, he dialled Bobby's number.

Bobby, unlike Sam and Alex, picked up the phone almost immediately. "Yeah?"

"Bobby?" Dean asked, just to be sure.

"Yeah?"

"It's me."

"Who's 'me'?" Bobby asked.

"Dean." Bobby hung up. Dean sighed, and dialled the number again.

"Who is this?" Dean could hear Bobby's angry voice at the other end of the line.

"Bobby, listen to me—" Bobby cut him off.

"This ain't funny. Call again, I'll kill ya." Bobby hung up the phone, and Dean did too.

"Well," he turned to Lola, "this could've gone better."

But Lola wasn't paying attention to him, she was looking at something behind Dean. He frowned, and was about to ask her what was so important when Lola said, "I know how to get out of here." She pointed at something behind him, and Dean turned around. It was a white, beat-up car. They looked at each other, then walked toward it, and Dean hot-wired the car. Maybe they were in South Dakota. If Dean could find the highway, he could get to Sioux Falls, Bobby's home town, which was near Bobby's house, and they could pay him a visit. He could tell them where Sam and Alex were. If they were still alive.

Lola.

Lola was glad Dean was still talking to her, even though he still didn't dare look at her in the eyes for more than a couple of seconds. It annoyed her, but there was nothing she could do about it. And besides, it wasn't even her biggest problem. Her sister might not be alive, even though, if the paper was from today, exactly four months had passed since the night they'd died. Lola took a deep breath, and looked out the window. The radio sucked, and she was bored. She wanted to do like BBC's Sherlock: shoot something, just because she had nothing else to do. So, that's what a high-functioning sociopath would do, so what?

She pushed those thoughts away. She was starting an argument with herself, and she really didn't want to do that. Instead, she just focused on the landscape, trying to clear her mind.

Instead, when she tried to keep her mind blank, flashbacks of Hell passed through her mind, and she re-lived those moments. They were so real, she was lost. She could feel every cut, every burn, every scar that was starting to form, every scar that was being reopened, and she screamed. Screamed at the top of her lungs…

"Lola?" Dean's voice brought her out of the trance. "Lola?" Lola thought she saw from the corner of her eye how he risked a glance at her, then looked back at the road. "Lola?!" He asked once more. "Are you all right?"

Lola shook her head once, as if it could shove away all her memories of Hell. "Yeah," she said, sarcasm was barely noticeable. "Peachy."

"It's about it, isn't it?" Dean wouldn't mention Hell. Lola decided she wouldn't either. She wasn't sure if she was ready to say that word out loud. Too many memories that wouldn't go away.

"Nah, it's about unicorns. You know they can stab people with their heads?" She said sarcastically, though that last part was true, unicorns could stab people with their heads.

Dean chuckled. "Let me guess, that's the reason why you want to be a unicorn."

Lola feigned surprised. "Whoa, Dean, you're smarter than you look!"

"Oh, shut up," he told her, and they both chuckled. It helped Lola get rid of the sensation of being in Hell again, just for a while.

When they arrived at Bobby's house, Dean stayed in the car a few minutes, as if he were afraid to see Bobby again, at least that's what Lola suspected. He should've been excited, though. He would see one of the people he cared about most again. That should've been enough motivation to be out of the car in a matter of seconds and at the front door, having already knocked, and waiting for Bobby to open the door. But instead he stared at the door, as if lost in memories.

"Dean?" She asked. Dean didn't respond. "Dean?" She asked again, louder this time. "Dean?!" She shook his arm, a little violently, and he jumped a little. "You all right?"

"Yeah. Peachy," he quoted her. "Let's go." He opened the door and got out of the car. Lola imitated him. They walked up to the door and Dean knocked. After a couple of minutes, Bobby opened the door.

"Surprise," Dean said. Lola smiled innocently and shrugged, as if saying "yeah, we're back".

"I—I don't—" Bobby stammered. Lola knew he wondered how they'd been brought back to life.

"Yeah, we don't either," she said. Before she could say anything else, Bobby slashed at them with a silver knife. Lola stepped back, and Dean also managed to dodge the knife.

"Jesus Christ," Lola swore. "Someone's grumpy," she muttered under her breath.

Instead, Dean held up his arms, in surrender. "Bobby! It's me!" He insisted.

"Yeah, my ass!" Bobby answered.

Bobby slashed at them again, and Lola dodged the slash. Dean grabbed Bobby's wrist, stopping him from trying to kill them, at least for a moment. Bobby punched him, and Lola decided to come between the two of them and shoved Bobby away. Dean and Lola entered Bobby's house, and Bobby, with the knife still in his hand, threw himself at Dean, trying to kill him. Lola pushed a chair between the two of them, and Bobby lost his balance. He managed to grip the chair, preventing his fall, but the knife fell to the floor, at Dean's feet. Dean took it, and said, "I'm not a shapeshifter, or a revenant."

"Yeah, neither am I," Lola said, because she noticed Dean was forgetting about her.

"Oh, really?" Bobby asked, sarcastically. "I can see it now, I'm such an idiot. After all you never really died and we didn't bury you!" He ended his sentence, shouting.

Lola rolled her eyes. "Give me the knife," she told Dean, and without waiting for his answer, she snatched the knife out of his hands. "You want proof?" She asked Bobby, while she rolled up her sleeve, and then used the knife to cut herself on the forearm. It wasn't a very deep cut, but it triggered a few memories from Hell. She suppressed the thought, and managed not to lose control. "See?" She held up her arm. "Not burning. Barely hurt," she shrugged, and gave Dean the knife.

Dean rolled up his sleeve too, and cut himself, also on the forearm.

Lola saw how Bobby's expression changed. Then he threw holy water at them, taking them by surprise. Dean spit out the water that had entered his mouth while Lola blinked the water out of her eyes.

"The hell?" She protested.

"Bobby, we're not demons!" Dean told him.

Bobby just shrugged innocently. "Can't be too careful."

Lola had to admit he had a point. She nodded. "Better safe than sorry." Bobby looked at Dean, as if saying "even she agrees with me", and Dean sighed.

"Damn glad to see you two. How'd you bust out?" Bobby asked them.

Dean and Lola exchanged looks. "No idea," they both answered.

"What about Sam?" Dean asked, at the same time Lola said, "Where's Alex?"

"Sam's been around, you know. Hunting. Said he'd stop by, later. If you want to see him, you can wait here." He turned to Lola. "I don't know anything about your sister, sorry."

"She—she's not dead… right?" Lola asked. She saw from the corner of her eye, Dean giving her a sympathetic look.

Bobby shrugged. "As far as I know she's still alive." Lola sighed, relieved.

"So, we wait for Sam to get here and then we ask him about your sister," Dean said. "I'm sure he knows where she is."

"Yeah. Sure." Lola nodded. Then she turned to Bobby. "Do you have food? I'm starving."

Sam.

Sam walked out of the Impala, making sure Ruby wasn't around — he hadn't introduced her to Bobby yet — locked the car, and walked toward the door.

He'd been on a case in Sioux Falls, and remembered Bobby was near and then decided, "why not?". He hadn't seen Bobby in a while.

He looked back, once more, before knocking, and the door opened almost immediately. Sam was expecting Bobby to open the door. He certainly wasn't expecting someone looking exactly like his brother to open it.

"Oh." He stopped, as if he'd been expecting someone else. He had money in his hands. He stared at Sam, and pointed his finger at him. "You're not the pizza man."

Sam didn't say anything. He waited too seconds, and then his shock passed. He grabbed his gun, which was the only weapon he kept close to him, just in case, and pointed at him. "Dean" held up his arms in surrender.

"Whoa, take it easy, man," he said, making a few steps backwards. Sam didn't say anything, but glared at him with pure hatred. "Dean" knocked the gun away from Sam's hands and pushed it as far away as he could.

"Glad we could sort this out." "Dean" smiled, both his smile and his words full of sarcasm.

Sam was about to say something when Bobby and Lola appeared.

"Oh, come on!" Lola protested. "Is it really that hard to believe that we're back?" She glared at Sam.

Sam's eyes flickered from her to Dean, from Dean to her, and then back to Dean again. Just when it seemed he was about to relax, he punched Dean in the jaw, and Dean fell back.

"Hey, hey." Bobby put himself between them, before Sam could punch Dean again. "It's them, Sam." Bobby told him. "Did all the tests, it's really them."

Only then, Sam let the idea settle in. His brother was here. He was alive. Lola too.

"So, how did you do it?" Dean asked him. Sam frowned.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, being completely honest.

"Come on, Sam, I know you're the one who bust us out of Hell." Dean stared at him, his look and tone both saying 'I thought better of you'.

"I—I didn't," Sam insisted. "I—I tried everything, okay? Tried to make a deal with a demon, but they wouldn't do it. Hell, I even tried opening the gates of Hell. But there was nothing I could do."

"So you didn't bring us back?" Lola asked.

"No!" Sam exclaimed. "Hell, I wish I had. I really do. But it wasn't me."

Dean stayed quiet for a while, and Sam wished he would just say something. He hated the look his brother had. Sam knew it very well. It was his I-don't-trust-you-but-something-tells-me-you're-not-lying-so-let's-say-I-believe-you look. Sam tried to calm himself before he could say anything else.

"All right," Dean finally said. "Then who did it?"

Sam shrugged. How am I supposed to know?

"Sam," Lola said, "do you know where my sister is?"

Sam stared at Lola. Alex. Right. He frowned in confusion, then he remembered. "Right. She changed her number," Sam informed her. "She's in San Francisco."

Lola's eyes widened. "She's hunting alone?"

"What? No. No, she—she's not hunting." They were all silent. Sam took a deep breath. "We can go now, if you want. Takes about a day and four hours to get there."

"Not if I drive," Dean said.

Lucia.

Lucia woke up at 6 am, as usual.

She did the same thing she did everyday. She changed into a sitting position as soon as she turned off the alarm clock, and made her morning prayer. Then, she stood up, and immediately went into the bathroom. She was half asleep, though. Automatically, she locked the door behind her, and let the water flow. She yawned, putting a hand over her mouth, and looked absentmindedly at the water, waiting for it to get hotter.

When she finally got inside, the warm water woke her up completely, and she sighed. Another day had passed.

She got out of the shower, and put a towel around her body, and walked out of the bathroom and back into her room. She picked some jeans and a white, simple shirt, and got dressed. She put on her boots, and then walked back into the bathroom, and used the hairdryer to dry her hair.

After that, she walked back into her room, and picked up a necklace, the one that was lying on her nightstand. It was a heart-shaped medallion. Inside, there was a picture of James. She still wasn't completely over it, but each morning she looked at it, thinking about removing the picture, and sometimes she even opened it up, ready to remove it, but in the end she just put it back down. This time, though, she removed the picture. She didn't throw it away, though. Lucia put the necklace on, and left the picture on her nightstand, hidden under the book she was currently reading — Psycho, by Robert Bloch — and sighed, as she walked out of the room and into the corridor.

The door of Alex's room was still closed, and Lucia hesitated. Should she wake her up? It was 6:30, almost 7. Surely Alex wouldn't want to miss her classes. In the end, she walked toward the kitchen and started making breakfast.

She was frying pancakes when Alex walked in, fully dressed, and left her messenger bag on the couch. "Hey," Alex said.

"Hi," Lucia greeted, as Alex prepared coffee. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," Alex said. "I guess you could say that." Lucia knew that wasn't true, but she didn't say anything. Alex had dark circles under her eyes, meaning she'd either stayed up until late at night, or she'd woken up much earlier than she'd thought. "Here," she said, holding out a mug, filled with coffee. "Thought you might need it."

Lucia smiled. "Thanks." She put the pancakes on a plate, and put it on the table. The plates were already on the table, and Alex didn't wait. She put a couple of pancakes on her plate, and started eating. Lucia poured herself some orange juice, and then poured another glass of Alex.

"Thanks," Alex said when Lucia gave her one of the glasses.

They ate their breakfast in silence. "So, what are you going to do, today?" Lucia asked as she put the dirty dishes on the sink. "Are you going out?"

Alex snorted. "You kidding? I'm going to do what I always do after class. Come home, read a book, maybe even watch a movie…" She rolled her eyes innocently.

Lucia chuckled. "You mean you'll watch Les Misérables, again." She emphasized the word "again", and shook her head. "You're hopeless."

"Hey, it's your fault! You're the one who showed me the movie! But yeah, I'm hopeless." Alex smiled. She took another gulp of her coffee and her eyes widened. "Shit!" She put the mug down and ran toward her room.

"What did you forget this time?" Lucia yelled.

"I didn't print the homework," Alex yelled back.

Lucia chuckled. "I have to go now," she said. "See you later."

She barely heard her sister responding "See ya" and turned around. She grabbed her purse, and put her jacket on. She opened the door, and saw three people she didn't expect to see.

Sam smiled awkwardly and said, "Hi, uh, I was just about to—" Lucia held her hand up, and Sam stopped talking. Lucia took a few steps back, then called out, "Alex! You've got visitors!"

Alexandra.

Alex didn't expect any visitors. The only visitor she'd ever had was Sam, and when he came, he either came alone, or with his girlfriend Ruby. Sam had never told her he and Ruby were actually dating, but to Alex, it was obvious. Or they were friends with benefits, but to Alex, it didn't matter. The pain was still the same.

When Lucia told her she had visitors, she'd been confused, and had picked up the recently printed pages of homework, and grabbed her messenger back, about to tell the visitors she had to go and couldn't see them right then. She'd even started her sentence but had stopped right in her tracks when she'd seen who was at the door, too stunned to do anything else other than stare. Then she'd put her stuff down, and made a few cautious steps toward them. Sam had started to explain, but Alex couldn't hear him. She'd known it since yesterday. She'd felt something weird, something telling her her sister was alive. She'd ignored it, of course. It wasn't worth getting her hopes up, just for them to be crushed, but of course, she'd hoped her sister would be alive anyway. And here she was.

Alex ran up to her and hugged her tight. Lucky for her, she didn't start crying. Alex was pretty sure she'd cried enough for a lifetime. But tears of joy did fill her eyes, and when they went all blurry, she closed them, and blinked them back.

"I knew it," she mumbled. "I knew it."

Then, when they'd separated, she invited them in.

"You can go," she told Lucia. "I mean, you can stay if you want," she quickly added, noticing how bad it sounded, "but your job—"

"Uh, it's all right," Lucia said. "I'd like to stay, if you don't mind."

Alex, of course, let her stay. They'd grown closer these past few months, she couldn't just push her away. Alex wasn't like that. She never had been, and never would be.

They all sat down, and Alex offered them something to drink. She ended up bringing three beers for the visitors, while Lucia and her refused to take anything. They'd just had breakfast after all.

"So, go on," Alex urged them. Then they noticed how they kept glancing at Lucia. Well, Sam wasn't. But he was the only one. "She knows," Alex told them. "Lucia and I have been hunting together these past few months. Anything you can say to me, you can say it in front of her." She didn't need to sneak a glance at Lucia to notice she was silently thanking her for that. Alex had her powers, after all. She still could read other people's mind, and talk to them. And she'd developed a new ability over the months.

After a moment of silence, Lola spoke. "So, we're back from Hell," she said, and then stayed quiet again.

Alex rolled her eyes. "Oh really? I had no idea! I thought you two were shifters, that's why I let you in." She paused, then added, "Idjits." They stayed silent. "So?" She asked Dean and Lola. "How d'you get out?"

They both groaned. "Why does everyone keep asking us that?" Lola wondered out loud.

"As if we knew." Dean scoffed.

"More important, what have you been doing while we were gone?" Lola asked her sister.

"Like I said, Lucia and I have been hunting. Also I kinda go to college now," she added before she lost her courage. She didn't know how her sister was going to react.

"What?" Lola was visibly stunned. "But—how—I mean, if you're hunting, how come you also go to college?"

"We don't go around driving, we just stay in California, in San Fran's area," Alex informed her sister.

"Okay." Her sister nodded. Was it Alex's idea or was she paler than before? "I was going to ask you for help but since you're, well, going to college and all—"

"Don't be stupid," Alex cut her off. "I'll help you. What do you need?"

Seeing as the visitors were hungry, they moved form the living room to the kitchen — which was only a few steps, since the only thing separating the kitchen and the living room were some counters, over which Lucia and Alex usually ate — and Lucia and Alex prepared some burgers for the guys, and a normal meal for Sam.

"We need to find who got us out. We think it might be a demon," Dean informed the girls.

"Okay. Any idea why they would free you?" Alex asked. Lucia was quiet, Alex noticed. She didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad one. "Let me guess," she said before any of them could reply. "You have no clue. You can save your sarcastic answers."

"Well, aren't you a smart one," Dean commented, and Alex glared at him, half-joking.

"Anything else you can tell me? I mean, your summary consisted of one sentence, which wasn't helpful at all, so, any details?"

"Well…" Lola said. She and Dean exchanged glances, and they both rolled up their sleeves until they left their arms discovered; Dean's right arm and Lola's left one. In both of them, right under the shoulder, there was a mark of a hand.

"Whoa, okay," Alex said, right after looking. "So, we'll check it out after we eat. There's a library just around the corner. So, here. Hurry," she put the first burger in front of her sister, then she grabbed another plate and put Sam's meal on it, and put it in front of him.

"Thanks." Sam smiled at her.

"You're welcome." Alex returned the smile, but she felt a sudden pain in her chest, and she turned around before Sam could see her smile dropping. Almost without meaning to, she glanced at Lucia, who was giving her a sympathetic look. She suppressed a sigh, and started washing the dishes, while Lucia gave Dean his burger. She decided not to speak too much, let them get to know Lucia better, like she did. Well, maybe not like she did, more like Sam. They were friends. Lucia and her were more like sisters.

Alex could hear the hunters and Lucia talking, but she didn't listen to the conversation. Instead, she focused on washing the dishes and nothing else. Then, she turned around, and found out, Dean and Lola were already done with their food. Sam was only half way through his meal. Alex picked up the two plates, and washed them, and sat down with the rest of them, but she was still zoning out. When Sam finished eating, she just put the plate on the sink, then she turned to the hunters. "Let's go to the library."

Lucia.

"You know," Dean said, "Bobby told we could call Pamela. She could help."

"I'd rather not," Lola said. "She's too far away to help us, and we have to figure this out right now."

Lucia focused back on the book she was reading, but her eyes started swimming, and she couldn't focus. The book wasn't helping at all. She sighed, and closed the book. No one even looked at her, and she looked down, grabbed the book, and put it back in its shelf. Then she walked toward the computer section, where Sam and Alex were. They were the ones who were usually on the computer—well, Lola was too, at least that's what Alex had said, but they needed people to read the books, and it was easier to look something up on the computer than reading an entire book full of what others might call "satanist crap".

Lucia didn't know why, but something didn't make sense. Why would demons get them out, if they wanted them — well, technically Dean — in in the first place? Sam had told them how no demon would deal with him, no demon wanted them to get out. Why was that?

She shook her head slightly. Then it occured to her. Maybe it wasn't a demon. But what else could it be? she thought to herself. What about… the opposite of a demon? She wasn't sure from where these thoughts came from, but the voice inside her mind was hers. An angel.

She knew no one would believe her, but she'd give it a try. After all, even if no one else did, Lucia did believe in angels. She looked them up on Google. She looked on different sites, and many of them said one of the powers angels possessed was bringing people back from the dead.

Lucia suppressed a smile, and this time, looked up angel names on Google. She clicked on the first page, and read them all, but it seemed like she wasn't looking for any of those. She kept looking, though. She knew it didn't make sense. How could she know which angel had been the one who'd brought Dean and Lola back? Still, she didn't give up. The second page she checked wasn't helping either, but the third one did. She was scrolling down, when she suddenly stopped. There it was.

The name that had caught her attention was simple. It had 7 letters. Lucia smiled, a small smile. Castiel, she thought.

She felt different. She couldn't really explain it. She just knew that was it. She knew Castiel was the one. She looked him up.

Castiel is an Angel of Thursday and will help anyone born on this day or anyone who asks for help on this day. The Angel can help us if there are changes in our life which may involve a lot of travelling or moving to a new country and we need guidance.

She changed the page.

Castiel, an angel associated with Jupiter and Thursday. He is said to be invoked by those who practice divinatory arts.

Then another page.

Castiel: Hebrew theophory (i.e. the practice of embedding the name of a god or a deity in a name) meaning "my cover is God." According to the book "A Dictionary of Angels: Including the Fallen Angels" by Gustav Davidson, Castiel was the angel of the weekday Thursday.

"My cover is God…" she mumbled. "Angel of Thursday…" She paused, thinking. Then her eyes widened, and she almost fell off her chair. "Oh my God!" She whispered. "Today is Thursday."

"Alex, can I talk to you for a sec?" Lucia asked.

"Uh, sure." Both girls walked behind some bookshelves. Lucia knew Alex could tell this was a private conversation. Lucia hoped she couldn't tell that Lucia was pulling her apart because she didn't want anyone to dismiss her without hearing her out and considering the possibility. "What is it?"

"I think I know what pulled them out." Alex's look urged her to continue. "I—I think it was an angel."

"A—an angel?" Alex repeated. "Are you sure?"

"Ye—yeah. I mean, I don't know. I just—I can feel it." Lucia waited for her to laugh, but she didn't.

"Oh-kay… Do you know who it was?" Alex questioned her.

"Wait—so you believe me?" Lucia was surprised.

"Well, demons do exist, so why wouldn't angels be real?" She reasoned. "Anyway, just answer my question."

"Right," Lucia said. "Well, yeah, I think so." Alex raised an eyebrow. "Castiel."

"Okay, then. Now we just have to find out how to summon an angel," Alex said. "That's not going to be easy."

"I'm not sure. I mean, I looked it up, there are many ways to summon angels but I'm not sure they'll work. So, I was thinking, what if we mix them up? I mean, one said you needed the Angel's sigil, and I found two. We can draw those two and then say a prayer. I read Castiel is the angel of Thursday, and he helps anyone who was born on this day or anyone who asks help on this day. Today's Thursday," Lucia explained.

Alex stayed quiet for a moment. "Sounds good to me," she finally said. "But I don't think Dean and Lola will believe you," she added, as an afterthought.

"I thought about that. You know, maybe, besides the Angel's sigils, we could put up candles." Lucia went back to the summoning conversation.

"Good idea. Look, the thing is, it's going to be dark soon. If we're going to summon Castiel, we need to do it now."

Lola.

Lola closed the book and sighed. She'd been going through those library books for a while now, and it was exhausting. Bobby had told them he'd do some research, trying to figure out who had brought them back, but they hadn't heard from him since yesterday.

Lola looked up at the computer section, just to find Alex and Lucia talking silently to Sam. She wished she could hear what they were saying, but she couldn't. Instead, she sighed, and grabbed another book.

Lola had to admit she was jealous of Lucia. She'd realized Alex and Lucia had formed a bond that was as strong as Alex and hers used to be. She shook her head, she couldn't be thinking about that right now. They had other things to do.

"Hey, you okay?" Dean asked her. She looked up from the book she was trying to read, thankful for some distraction, but at the same time she didn't want to show any weakness.

"Why wouldn't I be?" She decided to answer Dean's question with a question.

"Well—" Dean started but cut himself off. Lola wondered why, but was soon answered when Sam, Alex and Lucia appeared in front of them.

"We know who did it," Sam said. "Come on."

They were in an abandoned warehouse, which was outside one of the small towns near San Francisco. Lola wasn't too happy, because she didn't know what was going on. Sam had called Bobby and told him not to look for info anymore, but they wouldn't tell him what it was. They wouldn't tell Dean either because, this being an actual quote, "They wouldn't believe it".

Lola was pissed, but at least she got to drive the car. Alex was in the passenger seat, and Lucia was in the back seat.

She stopped the car, and they all got out. Sam told Dean and Lola to stay behind while he and Alex carried all the stuff that was necessary for the summoning. Even though the summoning was Dean's idea — proposed it when they were at the girls' apartment, a few hours earlier — they couldn't do anything but stand back and watch how they did it all, and it annoyed Lola, and she knew it annoyed Dean too.

She saw how Lucia drew two sigils with a graffiti spray. The girl put a candle between the two of them, then put others around them, and then she lit them up.

Sam and Alex backed down, and Lucia kneeled down in front of what she'd done and looked at the ground.

"What's going on?" Lola asked, but Alex telepathically told her to shut up. She didn't want to, but in the end, she stayed silent, trying to listen to what Lucia was muttering.

Lucia.

She put her head down, and took a deep breath. You can do it, she told herself.

"Castiel,

Angel of Thursday,

I call on you to be with us now,

Please come down and show yourself,

Light and guard us,

Rule and guide us," she whispered the prayer, and closed her eyes.

Suddenly, they heard a loud rattle shaking the roof. Lucia wanted to stand up an run away, but she stayed still, her head down. The door opened, and Lucia sneaked a glance at it. A man with black hair and extremely blue eyes walked in, Lucia immediately knew he was the angel. She looked at him with awe. Finally, she knew she'd been right all along. Angels did exist. As Castiel passed, the light bulbs above his head shattered in a shower of sparks. He stopped right in front of where Lucia was kneeling, and he stared at her. Lucia heard his voice — or what she thought was his voice — in her head. Thank you for calling me. You can stand up now.

And she did, because you just don't say no to an angel. She stood up, and she realized she was the same size as Castiel. Castiel was wearing a business suit and a beige trench-coat. He looked more like a tax accountant than an angel, but Lucia didn't say anything. Castiel, she thought. Castiel nodded at her once, very formal, and Lucia didn't know if he'd heard what she was thinking, or if it was some kind of greeting. She did the same.

Then, Castiel walked around her and toward the guys in the back. Lucia turned around.

Dean and Lola were holding guns, and shooting at him. Alex was trying to get her sister to stop shooting, but she couldn't get her eyes off the angel. It was an angel after all. Sam was looking at him exactly the way Lucia had looked at him before. With amazement.

Seeing as the bullets weren't hurting him, they let the guns down, and Dean stepped forward.

"Who are you?" Lola demanded, as she also made a step forward.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition," he responded. He had a deep voice, that send shivers down Lucia's spine.

"Yeah. Thanks for that." Dean smiled sarcastically, then stabbed him with a silver knife, right in the heart. The angel just looked at it, took it out, and then dropped it. Lucia couldn't see his expression, but she hoped he wasn't offended.

"We need to talk," he said. "It's important."

Dean.

Dean was pissed as Hell. Who was this guy? How come nothing could hurt him? He clenched his fists.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"I'm Castiel," the man answered.

"I mean, what are you?"

"I'm an angel of the Lord." Castiel's answer stunned him. He glanced at his brother, at Alex, then at Lucia, who was still standing in front of the candles, only this time she was facing them. Dean had never believed in angels. When his mother, Mary, tucked him in bed, she used to say "Angels are watching over us". It was the last thing she'd ever said to him. If the angels were watching over them, then why was she dead?

"Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing." Lola glared at Castiel, and Dean was relieved to find out that he wasn't the only one who didn't believe in angels.

"This is your problem," Castiel stared at Dean, then at Lola. "You have no faith."

Lucia started to move toward them, and joined Alex and Sam behind them. Lightning flashed, and they saw an astral projection of what seemed to be Castiel's wings. Dean couldn't see everyone's reactions. He just knew his. He was stunned as Hell. He wanted to deny it, but how can you deny when you've seen for yourself that nothing can hurt this guy, and that he can project his own black wings?

"So, let's say you really are an angel," Lola said. "This is how you look like?"

"No. My true form can be… overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice. But you already knew that."

"You mean, the gas station?" Dean remembered. "That was you talking?" Castiel nodded.

"Seriously?" Lola asked. "Dude, next time lower the volume."

"That was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be part of them. I was wrong."

"And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?" Dean asked him. He could feel three people glaring at him, but he didn't care.

"This?" Castiel looked down at himself. "This is a vessel."

"You're possessing some dude? Are you kidding?"

"He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this," the angel told them.

"Yeah, well, I'm not buying what you're selling." Dean told him.

"Me neither," Lola said.

Suddenly, Lucia stepped forward. "Dean, Lola, Castiel isn't just possessing someone. Not like demons. Angels must have the vessel's permission. Otherwise it doesn't work."

"How do you know that?" Lola glared at her.

"I—I don't know," Lucia admitted. "I mean, I just do."

"She is right," Castiel said.

"Okay," Dean said. "So, if you're an angel, and you're possessing some poor bastard, how does that make you better than demons? I mean, for all I know, you could've tortured the guy until he said yes."

"Dean!" Sam protested.

"The difference between angels and demons is that demons are here to destroy you. We, angels, are here to protect you. And we don't force the vessel into saying yes. God would not approve," Castiel explained.

"Well, you can—" Lola started but her sister cut her off.

"Lola!"

"What?" Lola snapped at her sister.

"Angels are God's warriors," Lucia started another one of her explanations. "They follow God's orders, and only his orders. They wouldn't do anything that God wouldn't approve."

"You're like a walking Angel Encyclopedia," Lola commented.

"Tell us," Dean told Castiel. "Why did you bring us back?"

"Good things do happen, Dean."

"Yeah, right." Lola snorted. Alex stepped forward, just to punch her sister in the arm.

"So?" Dean pushed.

Castiel stayed silent for a moment, until he said, "Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you. All of you." He added, staring at all of them. Starting with Sam, then staring at Dean, then Lola, then Alex, and finally Lucia.

Then, with a flutter of wings, Castiel just disappeared.

They were staying at Alex's house. They had another bedroom, and Dean and Lola were sharing the bed. Sam had to settle for the couch. Lola was asleep, her head over his shoulder, and one arm around him. Dean felt confused. How come she could trust him? Still, he didn't protest. He kinda missed having her besides him.

He had trouble sleeping that night. The events of the day and what happened in Hell kept replaying. They wouldn't stop, and it would make him crazy, but in the end he managed to keep his cool, and moved very little, and when he did, he was careful not to wake Lola up.

Castiel's words had stayed inside Dean's mind, and they refused to leave. Those two sentences made him crazy. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, so many things to tell that "angel". Instead, his words kept replaying in his head, non-stop. Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you.