You inhale deeply, bringing your outstretched arms back down. You tilt your head upwards, basking in the sunlight. Opening your eyes, you survey the dusk glow over the silent road meters away from the motel. At this moment, you're sitting cross-legged on top of the motel roof. In fact, you're pretty sure guests are not allowed up here, but you couldn't find anywhere peaceful enough to practice your calm. Normally, you would have taken your bouts of meditation in secluded parks or woods. But, with the nonstop road trip you've been on, the current selected accommodation offers nothing but empty fields and farmland.
You gaze at your hands, your fingers tingling. You believe you're coming to understand the fundamentals of your powers, providing they seem most revitalized near the presence of nature. Just as your mood is lifted by this moderate improvement, the familiar vroom of a Chevy Impala interrupts your thoughts. You glance down from the roof and watch as the dark car pulls in from the road and into the parking spot in front of your room. Through the windshield, you can see Dean's grim expression, the same look he was wearing when Sam left.
~ 8 days ago~
After your reconnection with Sam and Dean, they had driven you out to see Bobby. Although you had confessed your current helplessness, you assured him that you will get him back the use of his legs. The old man offered you a begrudging smile at that. It was right then that he told you about a distress call he received from another hunter named Rufus. The call seemed pretty urgent, and since there was no way Bobby could respond, he asked you and the Winchesters to provide help in his place.
During the rescue, you became acquainted with Ellen and Joanna, two other hunter friends of the brothers. Despite the scale of violence and confusion that came with the mission, in the end, Rufus was rescued, and you were all able to walk out alive. The victory was in fact minor in comparison to the discovery made through this incident.
Lucifer had not been idle since his freedom. In bringing about Armageddon, he began to unleash the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse. War, the creature you and the Winchesters had encountered, was the instigator of the madness that occurred in River Pass. With joint efforts, you wrung back his malevolent influences by cutting off the ring on his index finger. Once removed, War vanished, leaving behind nothing but his gold band. Things took a turn for the worse soon after. With three more horsemen running rampant, you knew you needed all the help you could get. Yet, before you were able to devise a plan for the next course of action, Sam unloads his true sentiments.
…
"You're leaving?" You ask, aghast, feeling like you've been doused with cold water.
It was the day after the River Pass ordeal, and the three of you had stopped at a small diner on your way out of Colorado. The day was sunny, the scenery picturesque, rendering the previous events grizzly and surreal by comparison.
Sam's morose gaze drops to the ground. "Yeah."
You search his face. "Why?"
The man grips onto the straps of his backpack, inching it up his shoulder. "If I stay with you guys, I'll only make things worse." He stops you before you could protest. "Alice, when I killed those two boys…. All I could think about when I saw their blood on my knife… was how much I wanted to drink it."
Your voice falters.
Sam lifts his face, staring you square in the eyes. Though his hazel irises are filled with self-loathing and shame, there is a tint of somber acceptance. "I remember there was a time when I couldn't even come close to killing. Now, no matter how much I try to deny it, it's become the norm. This thirst for demon blood, for power. War was right. I can't be trusted around you guys. I can't be a hunter anymore."
You watch the man, tongue tied. His confession has completely knocked out all the rebuttals your mind was preparing. You blow out a slow breath, casting your gaze to the patch of weeds sprouting a few feet away. How do you convince a man of his virtues when he doesn't even believe he has them? Settling your attention back to Sam, you grasp his shoulder. You vie to convey the vulnerable man your support. "Sam, I disagree with you, but I understand."
Sam dips his head, appearing grateful and guilty at the same time. "I get it, with everything that's happened, leaving you guys to face the apocalypse and all, it's like I'm abandoning everyone-"
You cut off him before he continues the self-abuse. "It's okay. I know you need this. Go, and be safe."
His jaw clamps shut, his face rigid. You pull the tall man into a heart-wrenching hug, you've grown to be so fond of him. Upon release, you give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I want you to know, when you're ready, feel free to come back. I'll be waiting." You then nod towards the elder Winchester, sitting by himself on a picnic table a few yards away. "And even if Dean doesn't realize it, he'll be waiting too."
His eyes carry over to the same picnic table, swimming with conflicting emotions. You give him a light pat on the arm, knowing he'll want to say his goodbyes to Dean. Sam gives you a final nod before he squares his shoulders and walks off in his brother's direction.
…
You had thought Dean would put up more of a fight, but as he explained to you in the car after Sam was long gone, he was relieved about his brother's departure. Dean reiterated over and over again that he didn't have to constantly worry about Sam and his actions anymore. He was a free man, and he felt elevated. You thought Dean was being rather defensive, but you kept your opinions silent.
Originally, Dean decided it would be best if you stayed with Bobby. That way, he would be able to have someone for help now that he's in a wheelchair, and you'd be able to practice your new powers (he had said with air quotation marks) in a safe place. You held back your biting retorts, knowing Dean was putting up a front, and that he really just wanted to be alone with his thoughts. When he passed his suggestion to Bobby over the phone, the old man thoroughly chewed him out. Under the array of colorful language, it was finalized that even in his wheelchair, Bobby was still a completely independent and functioning individual who required no one's assistance. And with that, you were left to continue your road trip with a simmering Dean, and a very uncomfortable atmosphere.
For the next few weeks, you and Dean were off hunting whatever piqued the Winchester's radar. Following Sam's absence, Dean had seemed particularly focused on monster killing. In the first few days, when he wasn't dragging you into research or to the police departments posing as FBI agents, he'd be dragging you to bars. You, being able to see past his façade of bravado, did your best to supply company. Many times, the man would drink himself sick, and you would have to carry him back to whatever motel you were staying at. He had never acted like this when Sam was around.
During one of his drunken stupors, he had unwittingly revealed to you his last encounter with Zachariah and what the Michael Sword really was. The man had started with incoherent cursing of God and angels, and after a few pressing questions from you, he spilled the beans on everything that weighed on his mind. And boy, was there a lot. You're surprised how Dean can function the way he is given the amount of problems he's suppressed in his psyche. All in all, the secret he kept that troubled you the most was the tie he now had to the strongest archangel of all. He was to be Michael's vessel. And the angels are pursuing him for his consent. Michael needed Dean's permission to use his body, and the hunter was repulsed by the notion. You became much nicer to him after that day.
During the following weeks, the two of you continued to grace the different pubs with your presences after a hunt. On numerous occasions, as soon as you left to use the washroom, you would find Dean immersed in conversation with one of the most attractive women in the pub, having completely forgotten your existence. If you hadn't been so impressed with his game and sympathetic to his loss, you would've marched right up and cock-blocked him. Instead, you simply sat yourself down in a corner table and watched over him. On the days when Dean seemed chipper, you would leave as soon as you were sure a girl is smitten with him. During his darker times, you would stay waiting for him until the pub was ready to throw him out. The man was hard to take care of, and it made you wonder how Sam was fairing.
So, once again, when you saw that the hunter had engaged the interest of a pretty redhead by the bar, you decided to take a cab back to the motel.
~Present time~
Knowing Dean would be looking for you, you quickly get up. After a quick scan around the area for any bystanders, you hop over the ledge and drop onto the pavement. Just as you straighten from your crouching position, the door to your room swings open, revealing a startled looking Dean.
"What the hell are you doing out here?"
You raise an eyebrow while simultaneously placing a hand at your hip. "What, with you out sleeping with every hot girl you can find, I can't take a small stroll outside?"
Dean seizes your wrist and drags you back into the room. Giving the outside another once over, he closes the door. He quickly releases you with a pointed look. "Do you have your hex bag with you? Lucifer's looking for you remember?"
You notice the strange tension in the hunter's stature. "Yes, I have it with me at all times. What's wrong? You're usually more amiable after your one-night liaisons."
Dean doesn't appreciate your quip. "Yeah well. Turns out, I almost shacked up with a demon." He shudders. "I spent the rest of the day driving around for a place to dump the body. They're actively looking for us now. Lucifer pretty much put a bounty on our skulls." He walks past you and shrugs off his jacket. The motion shakes off the dirt residue, vindicating his claim. "They really wanted you though. Guess the devil's getting serious about you." Dean cranes his head back to shoot you a jeering glance. "How does it feel to be on the top of the devil's wanted list?"
Your face is void of any emotion. A few days ago, the idea of Lucifer and the responsibility of stopping him would have cracked a few lightbulbs and glassware, but not anymore. Dean took notice of your distress and found the reaction rather hilarious, and would prod you with the notion whenever he found the chance. You're rather proud of yourself at reigning in your emotions. When the hunter realizes he isn't going to get anything out of you, he shrugs.
"I guess you're getting better."
Tired of his mocking humor, you decide this would be to perfect time to fetch some dinner. "I'm gonna head out to find us some food. Any preferences?"
From the bathroom, Dean turns around with exasperation. "I just said Lucifer has demons all over looking for you, and all you can think about is food?"
You pull out the hex bag from your pocket and dangle the pouch at eye level. "Make your decision, or all you're getting is salad."
"Do it and die. I want something meaty. …And pie."
You nod knowingly and head out the door. "Of course."
XX
When you return to the motel, you notice the Impala is missing. You quickly enter the room only to find it empty. Glancing around the silent space, you feel discomforted by Dean's sudden disappearance. If there was a job, he would have called you. If demons found him, there should be signs of struggle. The room however, is in the exact shape you left it. It takes you awhile before you notice the wrinkled piece of paper lying on the ground next to the table. A breeze from the window must have blown it off. You drop your sandwich and Dean's double bacon cheeseburger and blueberry pie onto the table. Stooping down, you pick up the sheet and read the scraggily handwriting. It's a message from Dean.
Got a distress call from a hunter friend. Simple job. Will be back in a few days.
You stare at the rather simplistic message. Taking out your phone, you scan the call history. Nothing. Something feels fishy. Why didn't Dean just call you? You press the screen beside his number and bring the phone to your ear. The phone rings for quite a bit before you finally hear the clicking of a call answered.
"What is it?"
You breathe out in silent relief. "You couldn't wait for me? I was only gone for twenty minutes."
"Sorry, it sounded pretty urgent."
You narrow your eyes. "You wrote that it was a simple job."
There's an uncomfortable pause. "It is, but it's also urgent. Look, just hang tight for a while. Practice controlling your mojo, and I'll be back before you know it."
"Tell me where the mission is and I can meet you there-"
"No!"
His forceful rejection startles you. "Look Alice. I'm gonna be fine. Relax and enjoy your time off for a bit. I'll see you soon."
The call ends before you can say anything else. You stare speechless at the call ended text rolling across the screen. You don't know what Dean is up to, but his words were definitely shady. You're about to call Bobby to see what he knew before you contemplate Dean's words for a second time. He's leaving you alone, which means, for the first time in a LONG time, you're free to do what you want. The idea immediately invigorates you. You quickly pack up your things and check out of the motel. The nearest city is in Maine, and it's been a while since you ventured to a large city for fun. Calling for a cab, you wait eagerly by the street side to start your monster-free holiday.
XXX
You sip contentedly at your chai latte as you relax by the window seat of a quaint little café. Having booked a hotel room across the street, you are now enjoying some quality you time, studying your spell book. The café is warmly lit, and filled with an adequate number of people. The hustle and bustle, though lively, is not overtly distracting. You feel the company of normal people to be quite soothing. When your eyes land on a small binding spell for energy repression, you're suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice.
"Alice?"
You glance up from the book, meeting a pair of startled green eyes. The girl's face, adorned with expertly drawn make up, is currently framed with curls of faded lavender. She is dressed in a silk blouse and a pencil skirt, finished with a pearl tweed coat hanging over her arm. Attractive would be a light description of her appearance.
"Maggie?" You stand up in equal surprise.
"You bitch!" The woman slaps a hand across your arm. "Where the hell have you been?!"
The whack didn't hurt, but you rub the spot where she hit you out of habit. You give her a sheepish grin. "Sorry. I've kinda been traveling around."
Maggie places a hand at her hip. "And you couldn't manage one call? Your place's been empty for weeks!"
You give a sweeping nod, starting to feel the stares drawn in by the commotion. "Um, certain circumstances prevented me from… contacting people." You feel muddled by your vague explanation.
Her irritation passes, bringing forth a look of concern. The lavender haired woman leans forward, discretion in her tone. "Is this about a job?"
You give her a half smile. Her readiness to accept the more eccentric particularities of your life never fail to amaze you.
Maggie had been your closest friend ever since you saved her life from a coven of vampires a few years ago. They had targeted her because of her striking appearance and had saw her value as lure for future meals. The poor girl was kidnapped right from her condo, despite the building advocated for its security.
When you stole into the coven's hideout, you had glimpsed the girl prattle on quips and excuses in an attempt to delay their death kiss. Hands bound to a bedframe, she maneuvered their attention to her voice while her fingers ripped into the rope with a glass fragment. Despite her obvious disadvantage, there was an ardent determination in her eyes. Nonetheless, even if she had managed to break free, how could she possibly outrun twelve full-fledged monsters? That was where you came in. Literally. The moment Maggie's bindings broke apart, you set the entire left of the building ablaze. Through the panic, you tore into their midst. With nothing but a dagger in hand, you extinguished the vampire family in minutes.
"Yeah." You finally answer, the memories of your first encounter enliven you.
Maggie throws a suspicious glance around the café. "So there are monsters here then? In Maine?"
"Probably not, I'm not here on a job." You sit back down and gesture for her to take the seat across from your table. "I'm actually taking a short vacation." You pause, shooting her a strange look. "What are you doing here?"
Maggie lowers herself onto the chair, batting her lashes in a demure fashion. "Well, you weren't the only person having adventures. I've been doing quite a bit of moving around myself. You know how I don't like to stay in one place for too long. I'd took a job here out of curiosity, and so far, it's been a party!"
You raise an eyebrow, genuinely interested. Maggie's professional interests have always been atypical. "What do you do?"
She flashes a cat like smile then glances to the silver plated watch at her wrist. "Actually, it's almost time for me to start my shift." She rummages through her wallet and slides a glossy black business card across the table. "Why don't you come by at around midnight? I'll give you a tour. Then we'll go for drinks and you'll spill about everything that's been happening."
You pick up the card, examining the gleaming double Ks placed at the center of the card. On the other side are the letters VIP printed in an equally refracting font. You narrow your eyes at the obscurity. Glancing up at the scheming face of your friend, you pitch her a grin, accepting her challenge. "Alright. Sounds fun."
Maggie stands up, eyes glittering. "See you soon!" She wiggles her fingers at you in adieu and struts out of the café.
You watch her disappearing form in amusement before examining the business card once more. It certainly seems posh enough. "Interesting…." Bringing your musings to a close, you open up your spell book again and continue reading.
XXX
You stand idly as the suited man studies you with a look of sly interest. You withstand the gaze, unwavering in your expression. You know you're in the right place. What you don't know is what you'll be in for behind the large black doors behind the bouncer.
You had researched on your laptop for the location of Maggie's work using the obscure business card she's given you. The only thing that appeared on the search engines was an address to a restaurant bar and nothing else. When you arrived at the establishment, despite the appearance of its haut-culture, you still had trouble believing that Maggie, your Maggie, would be working at a simple restaurant. Eager to cure your curiosity, you entered the restaurant and passed the business card to the Maître'D. You're then immediately led towards the black doors behind a set of velvet curtains.
The bouncer gives a curt bow of his head, customary to all VIP clients, you assume. "Your presence is expected, Miss Grey."
A fleeting look of amusement passes through your features. Maggie had enlisted the identity you adopted when you first met her. Nodding, you step past the man when he opens the doors for you. There is another hostess waiting on the other side. The bouncer promptly passes your card to her, and she replies with a verifying dip of her head.
"This way, Miss Grey."
You're led into a grand but dark hallway that curves steadily to the left. The entire left wall is replaced by two layers of glass rippling with water in between. Bluish violet light looms past the waterfall, casting transient rays over you and the opposite wall as you pass. You gaze on in marvel, unable to remember the last time you visited a place so ritzy. Eventually, the hostess stops in front of another black door and turns the knob. The entrance swings open to a wide circular room with a view overlooking the establishment below. You walk tentatively into the room, examining the layout. By the wall to the right, the lulling melody of jazz music plays from the seven feet speakers on either of a giant flat screen. Two meters in front is an arching purple leather couch.
"This is your VIP lounge. Please make yourself comfortable. Your entertainment will be arriving shortly." The hostess bows her head respectively and closes the door behind her.
You raise an eyebrow at her departure. "Entertainment, huh?" You wonder just what in the world Maggie had planned. Noticing the dancing light beyond the panoramic view of the windows, you step towards the spectacle. Your eyebrows nearly pop off your head as you take in the scenery below.
Similarly decorated to your lounge, the space beneath is accented with purple and black meshing of designs, reminding you strongly of the Victoria Secret stores. Placed across the black marble flooring are various booths of black couch seats and violet clothed tables. The entire room is darkened, save for the feeble lights off the walls. But what piques your attention is not the furniture or the interior design, it is the exorbitant display of carnal foreplay between the men dressed in suits and the women dressed in… a lack thereof dress. You utter a silent 'wow' as you watch several women lead their partners away through the adjacent halls. It's a brothel. Maggie had led you to a brothel. You close your eyes and bring a hand to you brow, a defeated smile playing on your lips.
The clicking of the doorknob enters your hearing, and you look towards the entrance. Standing at the door way is none other than your completely ludicrous friend. You shoot her an are-you-serious-face at the ensemble she is wearing.
As she closes the door, Maggie returns with an innocent 'what?', which in fact is highly ironic coupled with her choice of a pearl babydoll over lacy black brassiere and underwear, lavender garters and suspenders that draw the view down her long legs which are veiled with black stockings. Now here's the perfect lingerie model if you ever saw one.
"Am I to suppose that you're my entertainment for tonight?" You drawl, crossing your arms appraisingly.
Maggie strikes a seductive pose. "If it pleases you…"
A brief moment of silence passes as you simply stare at one another before both breaking into a peel of laughter.
"I can't believe you got me to come here." You say after a few intakes of breath.
Maggie saunters towards the minibar and takes out a bottle of wine then two champagne glasses from the cupboard above. "Hey, you were the one who walked through those doors. All I did was give you a card." She places the glasses onto the coffee table and plops down on the couch. Popping off the cork, she pours the champagne. Once both glasses are filled, she puts the bottle aside and twists around, offering you a glass over the back of the couch. You accept, swinging your legs over the same backrest and retaining the unconventional seat.
"You scheming deviant, you knew my curiosity would get the better of me."
Maggie raises her glass, and you meet her toast with a clink. Her eyes holds a mischievous twinkle. "Aren't you glad your outcome was much more pleasant than the cat's?"
You reply with a smirk, bringing the drink to your lips. "So this is what's currently holding your interest?"
The girl winks. "I told you it's a party. And not to brag, but I'm the number one request. You'd have to pass a certain bar just to catch a glimpse of me."
You chuckle. "Now that doesn't sound like bragging at all. And I suppose I'm to consider myself quite lucky to be in your presence?"
Maggie tilts her head in mock reserve, "Why, Alice. If you're thinking of getting lucky tonight, you're saying all the right words."
Just as you share in another laugh, something attracts your attention from your peripheries. Your humor dies as you feel the familiar angelic energy. You slide off your seat and walk back to the window, glancing downwards. You instantly catch sight of the unmistakable beige trench coat.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
Behind you, Maggie approaches. Concerned by the sudden diversion which now holds your focus, she follows your line of vision.
You stare at the angel, sticking out like a sore thumb in the crowd with his effusion of heavenly energy. It takes you a while before you even notice the elder Winchester sitting across the table from him. A server approaches with two pints and places the drinks in front of both men. Your brow twitches. Dean told you he was helping a friend on an urgent job. Just what in the hell is he doing here, and with Castiel of all people- er angels?
"Friends of yours?"
Your eyes thin into a seething narrow. "Yes."
She raises a brow at your hiss, then turns to survey the pair again. "They're pretty yummy looking."
You glare down at Dean as he gestures animatedly towards the different girls. "Wanna show me how to get down there? I think I need to have a word with my friends…"
Maggie glances back and forth between you and the men below. A look of delight blooms on her face. "Sure." Hooking onto your arm, she leads you out the door. You're hardly paying attention as you're towed through the corridors and down the stairs. All you can think about is how you're going to rip Dean a new one for lying to you. If he wanted some alone time, he could have just said. It feels insulting for him to employ such a roundabout lie just so he can get his game on at a call house. You reach the bottom floor and exit into the main lounge through a grand archway. You spot the Winchester immediately, chasing after a blonde in a black camisole, and Dean likewise, lock eyes with you. His face blanches, and he quickly spins around. Walking with a forced nonchalant manner in the opposite direction, he prays he did not catch your notice.
You breathe out a simmering breath. Pulling your arm from Maggie's, you make a beeline for the hunter. You clamp onto the man's shoulder, restraining him. You could feel his remorseful tension underneath your grip. With a placid grin, you spin him around to face you. "Why, hello, Dean. Fancy seeing you here."
Dean surrenders with a heaving sigh. "How the hell did even you find me?"
You resist the urge to tear at his ear like you would a naughty man-child that he is. "Maybe you should try explaining to me why you're here, and with Cass."
Dean huffs out a groan. "Look. The whole thing was Cass's idea."
You give him a that's-the-worst-lie-I've-ever-heard look.
Maggie approaches from behind, inserting herself into your interrogation. To your chagrin, she immediately captures the attention of the Winchester, baiting him with her looks like a juicy steak to a hungry wolf.
"Well, hello there." Dean greets, pretty much forgotten about you already.
You roll your eyes.
Maggie batts her eyes at the man. "Hey."
You turn your peeved attention to your distracting friend. "Maggie. You can't do this right now."
The girl pouts.
Dean looks back and forth at the two of you with a bewildered expression. "You two know each other?"
"Why did you lie to me, Dean?" You snap.
Dean fidgets, his own curiosity struggling with the severity of your tone. At last, he relents and puts his own desires on hold. "I wasn't lying about this being Cass's idea! Well- not about coming here specifically though. Totally my idea. I meant about lying to you."
Your look demands he elaborate.
Just as Dean opens his mouth, a scream echoes across the lounge, sounding from the hall behind the opposite archway.
Maggie tilts her head at the commotion. "Well that hasn't happened in a while."
You and Dean exchange knowing looks and head towards the scream. When you reach the hall, you're greeted with dozens of onlookers standing outside their doors that line the length of the corridor. Dean moves ahead of you, blocking your view as a woman in a white babydoll screams and berates someone further down the hall. There is the sound of her hurling something before her stomping heels approach. She turns and launches an insult with an equally shrill voice at Dean then barges through the exit, leaving spectators baffled and amused.
Dean turns and steps further towards the man she was yelling at. "What the hell did you do?"
Your line of vision is finally unblocked as the disheveled looking angel is revealed to you. He lifts a blank stare to Dean.
"I don't know. I just looked at her in the eyes and told her it wasn't her fault that her father, Gene, ran off. It was because he hated his job at the post office." Castiel glances down the hall again after the girl's infuriated departure, only to have his gaze caught by your presence.
You can't help it. You've completely lost your earlier vexation at the sight of him. You bring a hand your mouth, trying to stifle your laughter.
Dean shakes his head in exasperation. "Oh, no, man! This whole industry runs on absent fathers! It's the natural order."
Castiel's attention is elsewhere. A deer in the headlights.
You bring an arm across your stomach, clutching your side as your entire body shakes. You feel Maggie lean against the wall next to you. "Well, your friends certainly know how to put on a show, but I'm not sure if management appreciates it."
At her words, you glance to the lounge entrance way and see two bouncers striding forward. You turn to Dean and see the hunter has noticed the same.
"We should go. C'mon." Dean grabs Castiel's arm and pulls him in the other direction, but not before shooting you an urging look.
You swivel back to Maggie, your feet already inching after them. "I'm so sorry, Mags. But I gotta go."
Her brows knit. "But we just saw each other!"
You glance back to the two and Dean is waving his hands impatiently, signaling you to follow. You take another few steps back. "I know, I'm sorry! But I really need to go with them." You join the hunter and the angel by the door and offer your friend one last remorseful regard. "I'll contact you as soon as I can. I promise!" You tear your eyes away from her exasperated ones and run down the emergency stairs after Dean and Castiel. When you finally emerge outside, Dean is guffawing while Castiel is still staring at you, dumbstruck.
You check to make sure you're no longer followed before turning to the boys. You cross your arms, partly from the cold and partly to invoke sobriety to the situation. "So you guys had your fun." You drawl, trying to avoid looking at Castiel lest you start laughing again.
"Whew! It's been a long time since I laughed that hard." Dean sighs in contentment. He struts towards his car and leans over the hood. "It's been more than a long time. It's been years."
You're temporarily distracted by the latter comment and inwardly decide to address it at a later date, but for now, you veer your focus back to the original line of questioning. "Wanna explain to me why the two of you've been in cahoots lying to me?"
Dean makes a face. "Who the hell says cahoots?"
Your eyes flash scathingly at the man.
"It was his idea." Dean points to Cass.
Castiel finally manages to tear his eyes away from you to shoot Dean a withering look. When he turns his gaze back to you, you're surveying him expectantly. "Please understand Alice. It was not my intention to lie to you, but this is a dangerous mission. Your safety was priority. Only Dean can help me."
"Which means, technically, I wasn't lying to you."
You and Castiel turn to Dean with the same silencing expression.
Switching back to the angel, you cross your arms. "No offence, Cass. But seeing you playing around with a call girl isn't exactly convincing me of your dangerous mission."
There's an irate look on his face. "I am not referring to this as the mission. I have been searching for God, and I believe I may have found someone who knows where he is, but meeting him is dangerous. Which is why, I specifically told Dean to leave you out."
"Um, guys?"
"What?" Both you and Castiel snap at Dean.
He holds up his hands. "Just wanted to let you know that it's only a few hours to sunrise. Might wanna get things ready."
Your eyes flicker to Castiel for an explanation.
There's an internal strife behind the angel's scrutiny. His gaze abruptly shifts to you. "Alice. Let us handle this. Please."
You stare at him a while then to the impala stalling meters away. "Nope!" You pivot on your heel and skip towards the car. "I call shotgun!"
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