|November 10th, 2008|

Feet propped up on a bed, Alex lay in a comfortable position with her back flat on the ground. Her eyes shone with boredom, and she suddenly tilted her head back to look at Sam, who was leaned over a laptop at the small table in the motel room, typing away for information on whatever monster they were looking for. "I don't know why you two didn't let me go with Dean. My nose can pick up a lot more than his can."

"It's not because we didn't let you," Sam retorted. "It's because you wouldn't get up in the small time window we had to go to the crime scene." Alex stuck her tongue out at him in response, before rolling onto her stomach, removing her feet from the bed she used. Shoving herself to her feet, she walked over, straightening her tank top as she peered over his shoulder at the computer screen. "Nothing yet," he admitted at her questioning look. "I'm guessing demon though. We did smell sulphur in the area."

"Doesn't mean it's completely demon, though. I've known others of supernatural lifestyles to get possessed by demons," Alex replied darkly. She ran her fingers through her hair with a small yawn.

It had been two weeks since she'd joined up with the Winchesters. She'd gotten her shoulder and other wounds patched up alongside them, then had announced she was sticking with them. Sam hadn't seemed to mind too much. Dean, on the other hand, had downright refused to acknowledge her presence until a few days prior, when she'd figured out one of the many things they'd hunted recently. The ghost hadn't been too happy when they'd burned its bones, that was for sure. She had a scar from a nasty piece of glass she had fallen on. Though still irritated, Dean had accepted her as much as he was going to- by letting her in the front seat of the lovely Impala, something which they both adored, though Alex didn't dare ask to drive it. After an...interesting session with a thief Alex had learned to know as Bela, she couldn't blame the two for mistrusting the British.

"Gimme," Alex demanded, holding her hands out for the laptop. Sam was reluctant for a moment, then slid it over after she'd sat in the chair opposite of him. She popped her knuckles, then grinned at him and began to type furiously, glancing occasionally at the information Sam had compiled. Finally, she tilted her chair back, smug. "Looks like we're dealing with something like a succubus. We just need whatever Dean found out to confirm it. Jeez, you too faff around too much on details." She made a face.

"What if it's not a succubus though?" Sam protested. "Could be something else. And just what does "faff around" mean exactly?"

Alex contemplated that question for a few brief seconds before shrugging. "Messing around, as you Americans say. "If it isn't a succubus, then we go back to researching," she added, "Now look. You have free time to read a book like you always want to do." She smirked at Sam's sigh, then glanced up when the door suddenly opened. Dean strode in, removing the tie that had been around his neck as he did so.

"Son of a bitch, that was messy," he muttered. Alex was looking expectantly at him as he added, "Chunks everywhere. Walls, windows, doors, floor, furniture, everywhere."

"So...not a succubus," Alex muttered disappointedly, her hopeful look vanishing. She'd been looking forward to being proven correct again. Kicking lightly at Sam under the table when he snickered, she glanced questioningly at Dean. "So what do you think it is then?"

Dean dug something out of his pocket and held it up. A hex bag. "Great," he muttered, tossing it at Sam. "Witches. Just what we wanted. Sam, burn that thing." Sam rolled his eyes, pulling out a lighter, and Dean turned on Alex. "They any different in England?"

"Nope," Alex said firmly. "Just as bad as they are here." She stroked a hand down the inside of her arm, the blade rippling momentarily into view. "Well?" she said, standing, "Let's get looking to see if we can find what we need to. The witch should have left at least some little bit of trail, yes?" She settled down to research the relations between the victims, humming under her breath. But Sam snatched the laptop away from her, and she pouted, kicking at him again.

"You two go speak to the families," Sam told Dean and Alex, "I'll use my laptop."

Alex gave him the evil eye. "You're going to be sharing that thing someday, Sam. It's only a matter of time."

"So you think," Sam muttered back, earning a giggle from the skinwalker.

"Alright," Alex said, popping her knuckles as she turned hopefully to Dean. "Let's go talk to those families. I'll keep my nose on high alert for any scents that match up while we're at each place, so let's get moving." She playfully swatted at Dean, who shot her a look, then followed him out to the Impala with a wave over her shoulder at Sam. Out of the two, Sam was the one who was most friendly towards her. Dean seemed to tolerate her just barely, looking more like he wanted to smack the hell out of her most of the time.

Laughing to herself, Alex easily swung into the Impala. Dean had a gun tucked away at the small of his back. She didn't need to bother with worrying about trying to conceal a weapon. It concealed itself for her. She smiled to herself, buckling her seat belt as Dean slid into the driver's seat. "Was there anything weird about the witch's work?"

"No," Dean replied, shaking his head. He pursed his lips. "Nothing new or different. Just filthy witch work." Alex's lips quirked up at the disgust in his tone. He was a clean freak, eh? Amused, she grinned and Dean gave her a look and said, "No comment, Alex. They're gross. I don't do gross."

"Germaphobe," Alex coughed into her hand before smiling innocently, batting her eyelashes. He glared at her for a moment before cracking a grin, the first towards her that she could remember so far. It worried her slightly. Blue eyes narrowing, she warned, "You better not be remembering what I think you're remembering, Winchester. I'll kill you if you are."

He smirked. "Can't help it now. You brought it up."

She scowled, smacking the back of his head. "Don't piss the skinwalker off, you bloody fool."

It only took them a few minutes to reach the first victim's house. A woman had been found dead with evenly placed horizontal gashes down her back. "We didn't look for a hex bag," Alex said thoughtfully, "I'll hunt it down if you want to question the family and friends that are here." She tapped her nose. "Hex bags have a certain smell, like dead things and herbs. Should be easy enough."

"And if that...smell can't be pinpointed?" Dean demanded, glancing over at her as he parked the Impala in a drive way. They climbed out as Alex answered his question.

A smug smirk met his gaze, ice blue eyes gleaming proudly. "Nothing can escape my senses, Winchester. I know exactly where a scent comes from. The problem will be me needing to use my other form." She pulled her lips back, revealing her other form's teeth for a moment. Then she let them return to her perfectly white teeth. "Make sure they don't come upstairs, please. If you have to, use your sexy looks to seduce one of them women into fainting. Or don't seduce them, either way they'll pass out after one look at your face." His jaw dropped and she grinned, patting his cheek before heading for the door, hyper-aware of his proximity when he moved to stand behind her.

Seconds after they'd rung the doorbell, a teary-eyed woman appeared, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. She Squinted at them for a second. "C-can I help you?"

Dean reached into his jacet and pulled out his fake FBI badge and held it up so that she could see. "We're from the FBI, came here to investigate Maria Johnson's death," Dean reported. Alex glanced down at herself, realizing she didn't look too fancy. She was in her usual outfit: a pair of jeans, a tank top, and her leather jacket. Shrugging, she pulled out her own badge, a recently forged one that Sam had prepared for her, and showed it to the woman.

She looked a little confused. "Th-the FBI has already-"

"Final checkup on the place," Dean lied smoothly. Alex forced herself to smile reassuringly at the wary woman, who obviously wasn't sure she trusted them.

"We just want to ask a few final questions and give the place one more look. Then you'll be left alone to mourn as you wish," Alex soothed, tilting her head and fluttering her eyelashes innocently.

"...come in," she said with a sorrowful sigh. "Just...could you please be quick about it?"

"My partner here will take a look upstairs while I ask the questions," Dean told her, nudging Alex into the house when she didn't move fast enough for his liking. She elbowed him harshly in the ribs in her irritation, making him grunt, and she smiled smugly. But the smile vanished when he silently tripped her, nearly making her fall flat on her face.

"Bloody bastard," she hissed, glaring at him.

"Alex," he replied under his breath, then pushed her lightly towards the stairs. "Make yourself useful and find the hex bag."

Alex rolled her eyes and disappeared up the stairs. Dean began to question the woman who had been their dead victim's mother. Alex waited a few seconds, then slipped into the room. After making sure nobody was home, she let her humanoid form drop and become her canine one. She stretched her muscles, hearing bones finish popping into place as she yawned, and then set to work on hunting down the hex bag.

Her tail wagged unintentionally behind her as she lowered her nose to the floor, wrinkling it at the familiar scent of blood. Ignoring it in favor of following the trail of death and herbs to a pillow, Alex paused, ears pricking when there were footsteps. But they simply stopped in the room beside the one she was in, and she quickly finished up, grabbing the hex bag out of the pillow lightly with her jaws and returning to a humanoid shape. She rushed to tug on her clothes, stuffing the hex bag in her pocket just in time for the woman to enter with Dean close behind, a look on his face that said she had better be ready to leave.

"I want you out," the woman demanded firmly, glaring angrily at Alex. "Now."

"We're leaving, we're leaving," Alex reassured, raising an eyebrow at Dean. "What'd you say?" she hissed under her breath as they left the house, ducking out the front door and both cringing when it was slammed behind them.

"Nothing," he muttered, "Just made a joke she didn't like."

"Jerk," Alex sighed, then dug in her pocket. She held the hex bag out in front of her. "At least I got what we needed. You guys nearly caught me in the wrong form though. You need to learn not to tell bad jokes, Winchester. They're really not funny."

Dean eyed the hex bag as they wandered over to the Impala. "I'm hilarious," he huffed, unlocking the car though not climbing in when Alex rested her elbows on the top of it. He copied her on the opposite side of it, watching as she let the dark blade shimmer into view. "What is that thing, anyways?" he demanded suddenly.

She shrugged. "Dunno. Like I've said before, stupid, I found it on the side of a road back home." Curious, she held the hex bag up with the very tips of her fingers and then prodded it with her blade. Instantly, it went up in flames and Alex cursed in surprise, dropping it to avoid being seared.

Dean gave a low whistle. "Remind me to not get pricked by that pork sticker."

Alex shook her head in exasperation at his not-funny comment, then put away her blade, swinging herself comfortably into the Impala. "Bloody idiot," she accused as he followed suit and started the car. He merely smugly smiled at her. They started off for the next victim's home, both falling silent to listen to the older music that Dean decided to crank up. Naturally, Alex sang along to herself, voice soft and making it sound almost like a lullaby despite the instrumental parts.


Three houses and an apartment later, they tiredly made their way back into the motel room. Sam was gone, and Alex exchanged a wistful look with Dean. "Dinner?" she said hopefully, waving around the lack of Sam in the room.

"Better be where he's gone," Dean mumbled with a yawn, falling face down onto a bed, still wearing a fairly rumpled suit. Amused, Alex drifted over to where the younger Winchester had left his laptop open. Within seconds, she'd hacked into it, easily bypassing his password and snickering as she did so. He really needed to change it and make it more difficult to figure out...

A good half-hour or so later, Sam walked in to see Dean napping face down on a bed and Alex furiously typing away on his laptop with a nearly evil smile on her face. Frowning, he slammed the food he'd brought down hard on the little table, shaking it and making Dean jump awake with a gun at the ready. Alex frowned at the small pistol that was trained on Sam. "Dean," she chided playfully, "it's not nice to shoot the skinwalker, let alone your own brother when he brought you food."

Giving her a dirty look, he shuffled over, waiting until Sam had handed over his burger before suddenly closing the laptop sharply. "Don't break that, Dean," Sam muttered darkly. Dean ignored him and tore into his burger. "Anything?"

"Every place we checked had hex bags," Alex reported. "You find out anything we can use while we were out doing the hard work?"

"Yep," Sam said, popping a fry into his mouth. "All connected to one person: Karyssa Dare. And get this. Lady lives like the witches do in the stories; she stays in a rickety old place up in the nearby woods."

"Not creepy at all," Dean commented around his food. With the last bite, he swept any remaining crumbs from his hands. Alex stole a fry from Sam, earning a playful glare, and then nodded her agreement. She didn't like such old places. It wasn't often that old abandoned buildings held good things. Not once in her years as a hunter had she walked out of an old building without killing something.

"So we going to check this out?" Sam asked when Dean went back to the bed and fell back onto it.

"After sleep," Dean said, voice muffled by blankets.

Alex rolled her eyes.


|A Few Hours Later...|

Muttering under his breath, Dean slunk around the back of the old cabin, making sure his head didn't pop over the windows just in case he was seen. He kept a sharp ear out for any sign of fighting, having already decided that he'd go running to help if Sam ended up in a fight. Alex...he may have been more than just a little bit tempted to leave to the witch in the cabin.

It wasn't necessarily that he hated her. He disliked her at the moment (she'd come close to scratching his car), but disliking someone wasn't hatred. And he couldn't find it in himself to attempt to get close to anyone anymore. Not when he was destined for Hell within a few months, forced to leave his family behind. Maybe Sam would finally have the normal life he wanted after Dean was gone. Not with Alex, naturally, the skinwalker and his brother? He wanted to gag at the thought of it. The two were acting too much like siblings at the moment to get even close to that.

Dean's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening and closing, and within seconds he found himself face to face with a fairly pissed off looking elderly woman. her hair had been tied away from her sharp features, her eyes gleaming angrily. but other than that, she looked harmless...until you put her in front of a altar with the disgusting supplies witches used to cast their spells. He instantly raised his gun, but with a sharp jab to his wrist, the gun was clattering to the ground.

"Son of a bitch," Dean snarled as he shook his hand out. The appendage had gone numb thanks to the witch's carefully aimed elbow.

The witch rolled her eyes, then pointed towards the cabin. "In you go, young man, your siblings are already inside waiting on you. They'll be glad to let you know that I am not the witch you young ones are lookin' for. I'll gladly let ya have that one though."

Dean's jaw dropped for a split second before clicking shut. "The hell you talking about, lady?" She glared furiously and he threw his hands in the air before snatching up his gun. "Okay, okay! I'm going inside already, see?"

The witch followed him into the building, and then to a surprisingly lavished dining room, where an equally surprised looking Alex and Sam waited. Alex had her fingers dancing nervously along the inside of her arm, where her blade was undoubtedly hidden. Sam, however, found himself weaponless, and was staring intently at Dean. Dean shook his head; he was no longer armed, too. Alex rolled her eyes at the boys' uselessness.

"I suppose," the elderly witch muttered, hobbling her way across the room and glaring at Dean until he finally sat down beside Sam. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose with a look of exasperation and Dean sighed in response. Only they would be unarmed in the house of a witch. "That you are looking for the murderer of those poor girls?"

"Who wouldn't be you?" Alex said sharply immediately. Icy blue eyes became even colder. "Give us one reason we shouldn't kill you. You're a connection between all of them, along with the hex bags."

Dean had to give the girl credit. She was quick witted.

"I didn't make those hex bags," the witch replied. "We may as well start at the beginning. I'm Amelia. I am one of two witches in this town. It isn't me, but the other you're looking for. We were good friends once, when I was younger and preferred the darkness over the light. She was okay until the other day, when she cursed her daughter to death."

"Maria," Sam murmured, "She was the first one to be cursed."

Amelia nodded. "Yes, Maria was her daughter. A good girl, young. Only forty three. But, nonetheless, her mother killed her."

Alex's mind went back to the tearful mother, and Dean's must have, too, because he said gruffly, "Charming lady. Can't wait to meet her again."

Amelia's lips quirked up at his tone of voice. "Ah, but you won't be seeing her again. No doubt after discovering the hunters lurking around her house, especially the skinwalking one, she will have fled to a safer location."

The glare she received from Amelia made Alex growl, a sound she could accomplish even in this form. "It's not my fault we suck at pinpointing the exact location of hex bags, okay? I had to find it. I don't get how she saw what I was though..."

"No doubt she had sensors up that would alert her if someone used some kind of ability other than her own," Amelia mumbled.

"Great," Alex said with a pout. "And there's nothing you can do to help us? Like, use your witchy abilities to get us where we need to be or find her again?"

Amelia's eyes flashed angrily. "Don't go around demanding things of me, Alexandriana Montgomery. I do not approve of such things. You wouldn't want your little...secret getting out, now would you?" Alex's mouth snapped shut and her face paled. Dean's gaze shot to her with wariness while Sam merely arched an eyebrow curiously at her.

Uncomfortable, Alex seemed to hunker down into her seat, avoiding looking at the elderly woman. As she fell silent, Sam turned all of their attention back onto the matter at hand. "So how are we supposed to find this witch if she's already left?"

"You use that girl's nose." Amelia's words were blunt, sharp as she pointed at Alex, who silently looked down at the table, as if refusing to acknowledge the witch's words. "Her dog nose will be able to track her, trust me on that." The elderly woman smiled faintly. "I wish you luck on your hunt. I do hope the violence comes to an end soon. I used to enjoy it, I won't lie to you hunters, but now...all an old woman wants is peace."

Sam thanked her and the trio took their leave, Dean studying Alex with narrowed eyes. "Something you gotta tell us, Alexandriana?"

In an instant, there was a blade pointed at him, a deadly look on her face. "Call me that again," she said warningly, gaze serious. "And your throat will meet the outside world, Winchester. Nobody calls me that. That name belongs to some innocent child who had a family. Say it again, Winchester, I dare you." That said, she whipped around in a fury and stormed over to where they'd hidden the Impala.

Sam watched after her, then leaned slightly closer to murmur in Dean's ear, aware of Alex's good hearing. "Secret, huh?"

Dean crossed his arms. "Need to find out about what she might be hiding. For all we know, she might be some all powerful demon possessing a skinwalker's body."

"That blade isn't of demonic origins though," Sam muttered. "I looked into it. It only comes from legends that even Bobby has troubles looking into. It's never been seen in any mortal realm. Ever. I'll see what I can find about her now that we have a last name, though."

"Good. Let's go. Don't want my throat cut out..."

Alex suddenly whipped around to face the two hunters, her eyes full of irritation that Dean wasn't sure he wanted to be pointed at him. She'd been pissy since Amelia's words, and even he was wary of her. "My nose is good, but even better in my little doggy form. You guys are gonna have to go as a cop and and one with a K-9 partner."

Sam narrowed his eyes in thought. "We can't just walk in with a dog, Alex. There's certain things we need-"

"A collar, a leash, and a vest announcing my reason for being there, all in my bag," Alex said sharply. "I've worked this way with someone before. Move, let me go get the stuff." She ducked past them, biting her lip and letting worry crease her brow. She was screwed. Seriously screwed. If they found out what she was hiding from them... What she had lied about... Matt...

Shaking her head to clear it, relieved that she had a hunter that she could work with that wouldn't turn on her the second she wasn't needed anymore, she retrieved the three needed objects, then began stripping, making sure her slim form was hid behind the Impala. She didn't need Dean getting a third chance to see her naked. She carefully folded her clothes, then shifted down. Soon, she was a wolfdog, easily trotting over to Sam and Dean with a leash, collar, and police dog vest grasped in her jaws.

She was very aware of the surprised look that crossed Sam's face at her size. He had yet to see this version of her. Dean, however, merely snickered as she dropped the objects in her jaws, shaking her fur out. She growled softly, glaring at him, then picked her possessions back up and carried them over to Sam. She trusted San more than Dean to put such things on her. With her luck, Dean would strangle her purposely with the collar.

She nudged the items with her nose and Sam stared at her for a few seconds, stunned. She gave a wolfish grin. Her back nearly reached him mid-thigh. Nonetheless, the moose of a man knelt down and set to work on collaring her. As he clipped it on, Alex grumbled, unhappy. She hated having to wear one, but for this, it was needed. She did appreciate, however, when Sam adjusted the collar so that it hung loosely around her neck. The leash was clipped on next, and then the vest was strapped on. Soon, Alex looked as much like a police dog as she could.

Shaking herself again, she sat down, giving them pointed looks. In order to do what needed to be done, they needed to look the part as well. About ten minutes later, she doubted anyone would have recognized them as three who might be a bit of trouble. All three walked down the sidewalk, heading for the building they'd tracked the witch to. Dean had his hands in his pockets and Sam carried the other end of the leash that was attached to Alex, though it was more because of the fact that she trusted Sam not to tie her up somewhere like a common non-working animal.

When they ducked into the building, they weren't questioned, and Sam felt a slight moment of relief. They had nothing to prove that they were cops that were allowed to have a dog with them, even one wearing a K-9 Unit's vest. Just for keeping up appearances, he gave Alex an apologetic look and muttered, "Heel," when Dean went to speak with one of the workers.

Alex did as she knew to do: she sat beside him, sniffing furiously for any trace of the witch. When the scent crossed her nose, she gave a growling rumble, looking pointedly at Sam. Sam held up a hand to tell her to hold on a moment, then said as soon as Dean had returned with no information, "Alex has something."

"Do you?" Dean muttered, looking to Alex for confirmation. The skinwalker desperately tugged lightly at the leash, urging silently for Sam to follow. With their luck, the witch had somehow sensed them again and run off. They didn't have any time to waste.

Luckily, Sam got the message and let her lead him. Dean kept close, his hand flexed and ready to dart to the pistol he kept hidden at the small of his back. Once again, Alex thanked whatever god was out there that her blade was able to stay on her at all times in case it was needed.

She stopped at an elevator, growling in frustration. She hated elevators. They set off her scent trails...carefully, she reared up, ignoring the look on Sam's face when he realized she could have easily put her paws on his shoulders like this, sniffing at the buttons. She tapped the one heading down with her nose, then dropped back to all four paws, settling down to wait.

"Basement, just the place for a witch," Dean said, pulling out his gun as soon as the elevator doors shut.

Sam dug around in his jacket, then tossed a pair of jeans and a T-Shirt down to Alex, who stared up at him in surprise. He rolled his eyes. "Dean figured you'd want to be able to help out more than you usually can in that other form."

Alex gave a wolfish grin, then gave Dean a suspicious look when he smirked. She knew that look. He just wanted to see her naked again. She tugged at the vest with her teeth until Sam knelt down to help her get it off, then took on a human form before Sam had time to even stand straight. She grinned when Sam gave her some modesty, rapidly standing and wheeling around. "Ooh, I like that. Means I just have to train a certain someone that his eyes will be ripped from his head if he doesn't stop looking!" Alex punctuated that sentence by throwing her collar at Dean after removing it, glaring. He snickered, but turned away, letting her get dressed. Alex made a face. The lack of underwear sucked, but she appreciated that Sam had been willing to think to grab at least some clothing for her.

"What do you want to do with this?" Dean questioned as Alex ran her fingers through her messy hair. He waved the collar and leash around, nodding at the vest as he did so.

"Just toss it by the elevator," Alex instructed as they ducked out of it. "I'll pick it up on our way out."

It was dark in the basement, nearly pitch black. And the darkness made her nervous. Luckily, Dean had thought ahead, and removed a flashlight, turning it on and holding it up along with his gun. "Alright," he muttered, "We're looking for a creepy old lady who shouldn't be too hard to bring down."

And then Dean suddenly went flying, thrown backward by some invisible force. Alex jerked away in surprise, her blade materializing along her arm in an instant. She ripped it free of its invisible bindings, and Sam ripped his gun out, but was the one who went sprawling next. His gun clattered along the floor and Alex dove out of the way when a desk went sliding at full force towards her, making sure to grab the gun as she did so. She sprang to her feet quickly, gaze darting this way and that as Sam shoved himself to his feet. She clicked the safety on, then tossed him his gun. "Okay, so Miss Witchy doesn't like the stereotype," Dean wheezed as he made his way back over.

Alex gave a faint smirk, then began advancing forward, cautious. When a woman materialized with a murderous look on her face, Alex was ready, and lashed out, not with her blade, but with her hand, slamming a fist into the witch's jaw. She screamed in anger and pain, ripping away before suddenly wildly lashing out in return, a knife glinting in her hand. Alex ignored the pain of a knife slicing a small amount into her arm, glaring at Dean. Dean snorted, slowly beginning to move around them, Sam joining Alex to keep the witch occupied while he did so.

"How dare you," she hissed, glaring dead eyes at them. Insanity made the witch's eyes wild. "How dare creatures of your kind come in and kill my son!"

"You're crazy," Sam retorted, "We didn't touch your son!"

The witch glared at him. "Not you," she spat, "The skinwalker. The bitch killed my son."

"I didn't do anything to your son, I try my best to stop that kind of stuff," Alex retorted, gritting her teeth when the witch cast the knife aside and instead pulled a small pistol from the small of her back, her eyes wide as she smiled and cocked it before aiming it at Alex's head. Alex froze, not moving. One of the many rules to hunting: don't piss off the one with the gun. Except this time, it wasn't the hunter with the weapon.

Dean had begun to advance forward, wary, and Sam's gaze flicked from Alex to the witch to Dean. The witch frowned, then whipped around just as Dean lunged forward, gun trained on the witch and ready to fire. The familiar sounds of gunshots rang out, and the witch cried out before crumpling to the floor, dead within seconds. Alex gave a small squeal unintentionally, dropping her head into her hands, blood dripping from her fingers quickly. "DAMN IT ALL TO BLOODY HELL! CAN'T YOU SHOOT A GUN WITHOUT GETTING ME IN THE CROSSFIRE, WINCHESTER?"

Dean blinked, then glared, uncertain of what else to do. "Then stop getting in the way!"

"Dean," Sam said sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose before moving over to Alex. "Do we need to take you to a hospital or can we get out of here before people come looking?"

Alex carefully raised her head, wincing. "Let's get the bloody hell out of here. I have some a sexy face to bash in." She shot a dark look at Dean, who ignored her in favor of retreating to fetch their possessions. Grumbling as Sam inspected the injury, she muttered, "Why's he so pissy with my anyways?"

"It's not just you," Sam muttered, gently studying the graze a bullet had left above her left eye. "It's a long story that I don't want to talk about right now. Some other time I'll explain. But to cut it short, Dean made a deal with a crossroads demon and he has a few months left to live. Don't mention it to him or he'll go and get himself wasted."

"Already seen that," Alex muttered, referring to a time not too long ago when Dean had come bursting into the motel room they'd been sleeping in, waking both only to exclaim that he was actually happy before passing out on the couch.

As Dean came meandering back over, Sam pulled back. "Probably needs a few stitches. I'll do it when we get back to out room, and then we'll take off out of here. I don't think anyone will come looking for her, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Safe isn't fun though," Dean commented.

Alex glared at him, ignoring the blood that leaked into her eye. "Jerk."

To her surprise, he smirked. "Bitch."

A hard, bruising kick to the shin later, Alex was stalking towards the elevator, Sam following her with a smug look on his face as Dean limped, cursing the skinwalker for her unnatural strength when it came to kicking him.


Another quick chapter...:D