Hey all! So I'm pretty nervous about the end of this chapter. I hope it's enjoyable and mysterious. And maybe it's done in an OK manner. I'm not honestly sure if there was much more I could do for it at that point. But expect some answers in the next chapter! Definitely some more light will be shed onto the whole situation. It's our first one with Alex on her own. Please review if you don't mind. I really need an idea of whether or not my direction is okay, or if I should maybe ixnay the whole thing. Thanks!
Half an hour or so later Dean and Alex were seated in a plain room with a table and chairs, a one-way glass mirror, and a barred window. They hadn't said much to each other, knowing they were being listened in on, and instead opted for a very mature game of thumb wrestling. Dean kept trying to brute force his way to victory and Alex's smaller thumb was much more nimble and able to avoid his. They were locked in a heated match when the Sheriff came in, carrying a box that he plopped on the table opposite of them.
Dean and Alex pulled away from each other to look at Sheriff Pierce, each of them looking as smug as possible.
"So, you wanna tell us your real names?" Sheriff Pierce asked them, starting to dig through the box.
"I told you, it's Nugent. Ted Nugent," Dean responded with a grin, leaning back in his chair.
"And I'm Pat. Pat Benatar," Alex added in, passing Dean a glance as he snickered.
"I'm not sure you kids realize just how much trouble you're in here," the Sheriff opted to say instead of what he was thinking, giving them each an appraising look.
"We talkin' misdemeanor kind of trouble or, uh, squeal like a pig trouble?" Dean asked with another grin.
"You got the faces of ten missing people taped to your wall," Pierce told them, causing Dean and Alex to both look away from him. "Along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo. Kids, you are officially suspects."
"That makes sense," Alex scoffed, shaking her head in exasperation at the old guy.
"Yeah," Dean added, rolling his eyes. "Total sense. Because when the first one went missing in '82 I was I was three."
"I know you've got partners. One of 'em's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing. So tell me. Dean. This his?" the Sheriff eyed them as he tossed down their Dad's journal on the table in front of them. Both Alex and Dean watched it fall, each of them suddenly realizing how serious the situation with their Dad was. "I thought that might be your name. See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out-I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy," Dean leaned forward to see the journal better as the Sheriff leafed through its pages, "But I found this, too."
The Sheriff had stopped on a page about three quarters of the way through the journal, where Dean's name and the numbers 35-111 were written and circled, nothing else on the page. "Now, you're staying right here 'til you tell me what the hell that means."
Dean stared at the page for several seconds before glancing at Alex, who had looked up from the page to him, and finally sat back in his seat to stare at the Sheriff. "It's my high school locker combo," Dean finally settled on, smiling at the Sheriff with his trademark sarcastic grin.
"Nice try. Try again," the Sheriff told him, pulling out the chair opposite of them and plopping into it.
"He's right, Dean. We should tell the truth. It's actually my high school locker combo," Alex spoke up beside him, now grinning to match Dean.
"All right," Sheriff Pierce said with a groan, leaning back in his seat. "I've got all day for this. Now I know your brother's name," he gave a pointed look at Alex, "Why don't you go ahead and tell me yours, cupcake?"
"Vanilla," she responded, causing Dean to snicker. If there was anything they were both good at, apparently, it was avoiding answers and overall being a pain to the authorities. "I prefer vanilla cupcakes to chocolate."
"You two look too much alike to not be related," Sheriff Pierce continued, giving them each a lengthy look. "So what is it? A family ring? You guys all go out and kidnap innocent men for your kicks?"
"Actually, I prefer hiking to kidnapping," Alex spoke up first, smiling sweetly at the Sheriff. "The less I have to deal with idiots the better."
"O-kay," the Sheriff groaned, rubbing his face, "We'll go back to where we were before. What do those numbers mean?"
"I don't know how many times I gotta tell you," Dean quipped with a grin, "It's my high school locker combo."
"We gonna do this all night long?" Sheriff Pierce asked them, looking between them again and reconsidering his decision to even try interrogating them.
Before Alex could speak up again a deputy leaned into the room. "We just got a 911. Shots fired over at Whiteford Road."
"Either of you have to go to the bathroom?" the Sheriff asked them as he stood, coming around the tale to them.
"No," Dean and Alex both responded, watching the man suspiciously.
"Good," Sheriff Pierce said with a grunt, taking out two sets of handcuffs and tethering them each to their chairs.
Dean and Alex watched as he exited the room before looking at each other again, both of them breaking out into grins.
"Been in a situation like this often?" Dean asked her, reaching forward to the journal to take a paper clip off the edge of a page.
"A few times, yeah. You too?" Alex casually replied, watching as he busied himself picking at the lock on his cuffs.
"A few," he repeated her, grinning as his cuff came loose and holding his hand up to her in victory. "Hold still," Dean told her, leaning over to give her cuff the same treatment.
When she was freed she stood up, moving with Dean to stand near the door but out of sight of the window. "So, for not knowing each other for all of our lives, we're pretty similar," Alex pointed out, pressing against the wall when Dean motioned for them to get back.
"I think you're just copying me," Dean grinned at her, peeking back around the window to see if the Sheriff and deputies were gone. "I don't blame you. I'm awesome."
"You should look into getting married to yourself sometime," Alex told him, her eyes rolling. "I'm not copying you. We were just raised similarly."
"Sammy was raised like us," Dean pointed out, carefully opening the door and peering out. "And he's a nerd."
"For your information, I also like to read books without pictures and learn new things," Alex shook her head, watching as Dean nabbed their Dad's journal and went towards a fire escape. "This has got to be the worst escape I've ever been a part of."
"Hey, you wanna walk out the front door? Be my guest." Dean levered the window open, moving out of it and onto the ladder outside of it, leaving Alex no choice but to follow.
As soon as they cleared a few blocks away from the police station Dean stopped at a phone booth, squeezing inside to phone Sam while Alex stood outside. Alex wasn't really paying attention as she picked at her nails, leaning up against the side of the booth as Dean spoke to Sam about what they had found out about their Dad. At this point she had a relatively good feeling that she'd not be sticking around if they had to go somewhere else to look for their Dad. She originally had wanted to stick it out until the end, if he wasn't around here anymore, it was unlikely he was going to turn up anytime soon. She only had two months to herself, anyway. And Sam wasn't sticking around any longer than Monday.
She looked up from her fingernails only to see a man standing down the street from she and Dean, obviously staring at them both. She tensed up at that, moving to reach behind her to grab Dean's attention, but found she couldn't move as the man shook his head. He raised his fingers to his lips, mockingly telling her not to say anything even though she couldn't open her mouth if she wanted to, and she glared at him in response. The man was tall, probably as tall as Sam, and had rich blonde hair. She couldn't quite make out his eye color from so far away, but it was definitely a light color. He was extremely attractive: muscular, chiseled, everything a girl could want and more. Alex would've frowned if she could move her lips as the man winked at her, his eyes suddenly rolling back and becoming a solid, deep hue of blue, before he disappeared in front of her as soon as she heard Dean start shouting for Sam over the phone.
Alex turned to tell Dean what had happened with the man, presumed demon, as soon as she could move again, but was instead dragged along with Dean as he ran out of the phone booth. "What's going on?" she asked him, moving to running to keep up with him. "Is Sam okay?"
"I dunno," Dean responded quickly, looking around for a car they could maybe steal. If not, they were running the entire way to that ghost bitch's house. "We've gotta get to where Constance is buried."
Alex only nodded her consent as they continued down the street, watching as Dean busted out the window in an old car and hopped in to hotwire, unlocking the doors for her to get in on the other side. She was now both worried about Sam and the demon she had seen. It hadn't tried to hurt her… just kept her still and silent while it made itself known. Definitely not the M.O. of a typical demon. And its eyes weren't black, they were blue. But the fact that the entire eye changed to be a whole color was what cemented the fact that it had to have been a demon for her.
Dean was being as silent as Alex as he sped along the road, both of them obviously in their own thoughts. Dean's thoughts were focused more solely than Alex's: Sam was in trouble and he had to help him.
It wasn't long until they had screeched to a stop and were running up a driveway to where they saw the Impala parked, each of them speeding up as they heard Sam's screaming. When they got to the car and were able to look in they saw Sam, his hoodie and shirt apart, with the woman in white on top of him and her hand in his chest. Dean didn't even hesitate to pull out his pistol and start firing at her, startling her enough to give Sam some breathing room. She disappeared and reappeared twice, Dean firing at her the whole time, while Sam managed to lean forward enough to turn the keys in the ignition and put the car into drive.
"I'm taking you home," Sam floored it, the Impala speeding up the steps of the porch and through the front wall.
"Sam!" Alex called after him, rushing in with Dean lagging behind as he watched it happen. "Sam! You okay?" she rushed around to the passenger side door, Dean behind her, each of them leaning in the window to try and see if he was hurt.
"I think so…" Sam groaned, shaking his head a little before looking at them, his two older siblings looked relieved.
"Can you move?" Dean asked him, Alex moving out of the way so Dean could take over. There was no way she could help pull Sam out if he couldn't.
Apparently it wasn't just her and Dean who could be reckless Alex decided, moving to the rear of the car as Dean helped tug Sam out of the car.
"Uh, guys," Alex called out as she turned and saw Constance picking up a framed picture. When Sam and Dean turned around Constance glared at them, throwing the frame down and forcing a bureau to slide across the floor and crush the two boys against the Impala. Alex felt a slight tug on herself before she was flying into the wall next to the stairs, grunting with the impact.
Sam and Dean were struggling against the bureau holding them in place as Constance approached Alex until the lights started to flicker. Constance stopped and suddenly looked terrified, following a trail of water up the stairs to where two new spirits were. Alex watched them nervously, slowly scooting back from the stairs and away from Constance and the child-sized ghosts.
"You've come home to us, Mommy," the children said in unison. Constance suddenly looked panicked as she took a step back, directly into the arms of her children as they appeared behind her and hugged her tightly.
Alex covered her head with her arms, peering around to watch as the spirits flickered with energy before suddenly melting into a puddle of water onto the ground where they were. "Kids have got to be the creepiest spirits," she mumbled as she looked at Sam and Dean as they lugged the bureau off of them.
"You okay, princess?" Dean called over to her, wiping his hands off on his jeans.
"Yeah, I'm good," she replied, pulling herself up and moving over to them. They all stood for a moment, staring at the puddle, each of them now dirty again, before Dean spoke up.
"So this is where she buried her children," he pointed out, looking to Sam and then Alex.
"That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them," Sam informed them both, causing Alex to shake her head.
"You found her weak spot. Nice going, champ," she grinned at him, walking around to the other side of the car to peer in the backseat and check on her luggage.
Dean gave Sam a nice slap on his chest, where he was still lightly bleeding from Constance's fingers, causing him to grunt and laugh. "What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"
"Hey. Saved your ass," Dean pointed out, grinning at him as he crouched to look over the Impala. "And I'll tell you another thing," he sounded sarcastically menacing, "If you screwed up my car? I'll kill you."
"And I'll have to save you when he tries," Alex added in, leaned against the hood of the car as she grinned at them both.
Sam laughed and shook his head at them both, moving to sit in the car. "Whatever, freaks."
Half an hour later they were tearing down the highway again, Sam looking at a map with their Dad's journal open on their lap to the page with Dean's name and 35-111. "Okay, here's where Dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado," he flicked off his flashlight, throwing it in the floorboard as he turned slightly to see both Dean and Alex.
"Sounds charming. How far?" Dean asked him, still annoyed his right headlight was out because of Sam's antics.
"About six hundred miles," Sam replied, glancing back at Alex. They both had an idea of where this was headed.
"Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning," Dean pointed out, masking his hopefulness with bravado as he put more force into the acceleration.
"Dean, I, um…" Sam began, hesitating as he glanced at Alex who nodded at him for encouragement.
"You're not going," Dean finished for him, scorn in his voice.
"The interview's in like, ten hours. I've gotta be there," Sam's resolve to do this was clear. There was no way he would back down.
"Yeah. Yeah, whatever," Dean nodded, obviously disappointed, "I'll take you home."
Sam nodded in response, turning his attention to the road outside of his window. And for the next two hours they spent the car in an awkward and tense silence, caused by the riff between the boys.
When they finally made it back to Stanford it was a relief for Alex, who had resorted to toying on her phone for the last half hour to avoid the tension in the car. They had been doing so well together up until the point that Sam decided he was really going to go for the lawyer thing. She was happy for him, of course, but couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't going to get to be a lawyer.
Sam climbed out of the car and leaned over into the window, looking at both Alex and Dean. "Call me if you find him?" Dean nodded in response, so Sam continued, "And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"
"Yeah, all right," Dean grumbled. Sam patted the top of the car twice before turning and walking off. Dean hesitated before leaning over to the window on the passenger side, calling back out to him. "Sam?" when Sam stopped and turned to look at him he continued, "You know, we made a hell of a team back there."
"Yeah," Sam called back, nodding. Alex glanced from Sam to Dean awkwardly, wondering if she should say something when Dean pulled off. Sam watched them go for a moment before sighing and turning to go inside.
"So, that was awkward," Alex nearly yelled over the loud music in the car, leaning forward onto the back of the front seat. Dean hadn't given her time to move up to the passenger. "You should just go ahead and tell him you miss him and love him and get it over with."
Dean scoffed, turning the volume down and giving her an annoyed look out of the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, no. No chick flick moments. And I don't miss him. He's got his own thing going on."
Alex was about to respond, to chastise him for being dense and stubborn, when her phone rang. "This isn't over," she warned him, reaching into her pocket and reading the caller ID. It was one of the girls she worked with in Nashville, Claire. "Claire?" Alex asked as she flipped it open, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.
"Hey!" Claire screamed over the receiver, causing Alex to wince slightly and Dean to raise an eyebrow at her, obviously having heard it. "You won't believe it! We got a ton of orders for the CMAs! I know you're on vacation or whatever, but I could really use your help. You know, if you're available. Please say you're available."
Alex closed her eyes and exhaled harshly through her nose, biting the inside of her cheek. When she opened her eyes again she was looking into the rearview mirror, locking with Dean's green orbs. It was obvious Dean could still hear everything Claire was saying. She wasn't exactly a quiet person on the phone. Alex continued to stare at Dean as she thought about what Claire was saying. They usually got an order or two for the CMAs (Country Music Awards), but the way she was talking it was as if they had five or six this year. They would definitely need her help… but so did Dean. But he was perfectly able of watching out for himself. "Yeah," she finally spoke into the phone again, practically feeling relief roll through the phone from Claire. "I can be there in like, two days. Okay?"
"Perfect! Thanks so much!" Claire was obviously hyper off of the adrenaline of their new order, so Alex just hung the phone up to avoid having to be in a long conversation.
Dean had slowed the car to a stop, pulling over on the side of the road. He turned around to stare at her silently, and Alex grimaced slightly in response. "I'm sorry," she began, frowning as Dean shook his head, "I can't just leave them alone for something this big. I've gotta go. But you have my cell number now. And if you need anything you can call me. I'll drop whatever I've got going on to help. Okay?"
"Yeah, okay," Dean sighed, looking defeated. First his Dad, then his brother, now his sister… It didn't matter to him that he barely knew her. He was being abandoned left and right. It hurt. But he'd never let anyone know that. "Whatever. You need a lift?"
"To a bus station, yeah, if you don't mind," Alex smiled finally, relieved that Dean seemed to be taking it so well. Considering she was practically a stranger to him it didn't seem so odd, but she really didn't want him to think she was just running off the first chance she got.
Less than eight minutes after they had dropped Sam off Alex was climbing up into a bus, giving Dean a final wave. They hadn't hugged or really said anything since she told him she had to leave, but that was just Dean's style, she figured. He didn't like 'chick flick moments', as he put it. So she left him alone about it. Besides, he was just going to Colorado to find their Dad. There was no reason for her to feel so bad about it. What's the worse that could happen while she was gone?
So when Dean called her a half hour later to tell her about what had happened to Sam and his girlfriend, she was heartbroken. Dean insisted that Sam was fine, but she had a feeling he was the exact opposite of that. At least the boys had each other again, though. Sam was going with Dean to Colorado. After giving Dean her strictest, fakest voice and ordering him to call her every day, and to tell Sam to do so as well, they ended their call. She leaned her head against the cool pane of the glass and shut her eyes, hoping the best for the boys, because for whatever reason some yellow-eyed demon was ruining their lives systematically.
She had barely begun to think about the mysterious blue-eyed demon she had seen in Jericho, which she had accidentally forgotten to tell Dean about and swore to when they spoke next, when she fell asleep. And the next morning, when she awoke, she was still in the same bus as before. Except someone was sitting beside of her.
Alex sat up stiffly, looking at the man who was now smiling at her. She didn't recognize him from when she first got on the bus, so he must've gotten on sometime when she was asleep. "Can I help you?" she asked when he didn't speak up, carefully sliding her hand into her bag, which was wedged between her leg and the side of the bus. Her fingers barely grazed the cool metal of her pistol before she couldn't move them anymore, causing a slight panic to well up in her chest.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked her, his hazel eyes twinkling as he continued to smile at her. "I certainly hope so. You were out for two days. Don't worry," the tone of his voice was menacingly gentle as he lightly brushed his fingertips across her jaw line, his smile growing into a grin as she tensed but was unable to pull away. His hand moved away from her face to grab her left wrist, pulling it up to his face as he gently laid a kiss on the inside of it, his black hair staying slicked back on his head as he did. "That happens to everyone I run across. They tend to… overindulge. It just happened that you needed to indulge in sleep."
Alex was frowning, since she found that was the most she could move any part of her without him grabbing her like he had with her arm. His eyes rolled back into his head and suddenly his eyes were a single color, a deep emerald, which made Alex try fighting against the hold his psychic abilities had on her even more. First the blue eyed demon and now this green eyed one? And her brothers issue with a yellow eyed one? Alex had no idea what was going on.
"I'm sure you're wondering who I am," he teased her, still holding her wrist near his face as he watched her tense face as she fought against him. "But I assure you that isn't necessary. I'm here to give you a gift."
If Alex could've talked she would have definitely told him to take his gift and shove it where the sun doesn't shine. She didn't make deals with demons or take gifts from them.
"Oh, please," he spoke up, grinning as he glanced from her eyes to her wrist. "You'll love my gift. I'm sure of it. And there are no strings attached. It's just a little insurance on my part. You see, I have a few enemies who are currently endeavoring to kill me. And my gift to you will aid me and you. We both win."
Before Alex could form another thought he pressed his lips back to the inside of her left wrist, causing an excruciating pain to emanate from where he touched through her entire body. If she could open her mouth she was sure she'd be screaming bloody murder. But as quickly as he had kissed her he was done, giving her a final parting wink before he disappeared.
She hugged her wrist to her chest as she let out a low groan, closing her eyes tightly and pressing her head tightly against the back of her seat. That was when she smelled something… wrong. Something terrible. And heard buzzing. Her eyes snapped open as she quickly stood, gagging slightly as she saw the mutilated corpses of all of the other passengers on the bus. There were flies everywhere, and the bodies had begun to bloat. They had to have been dead for at least eighteen hours at this point.
Alex tugged her bag over her shoulder as she carefully maneuvered her way around corpses, blood, and… parts of corpses. Her wrist was still held tightly to her chest as she practically dove out of the open door, gasping in breaths of fresh air greedily. "What. The. Hell," she spoke out loud, stumbling forward to turn and look at the bus. When it suddenly caught fire she took several steps back, swallowing a few times as she turned to try and figure out where she was. On the horizon she could see several buildings peaking over, and instantly she recognized the skyline of Nashville.
She turned back to look at the bus a final time before deciding there was no way she could retrieve her suitcase from the flames, and the smell of decay and burning flesh was too strong for her to want to stay. So she started walking towards the city, her wrist still tucked to her chest. It felt like it was the thing on fire, not the bus, and she couldn't bring herself to pull it away and risk it hurting even more. She had to grit her teeth and keep moving towards Nashville. If she could make it home she could protect herself. She could salt the windows and doors, and then take the time to find out what the hell that green-eyed bastard had done to her.
But that was too good to be true. Less than an hour later she stopped walking, staring with wide eyes at her now burning house. And across the street from it was where she worked, also burning. Everything. Everything she had ever wanted, known, or had was burning. And she could only stare at it. There were emergency vehicles on scene already. There was nothing she could do. She just stared, flabbergasted, until she saw a familiar face off to itself, smirking at her. It was the man from Jericho.
When he turned and started to walk away down an alley between buildings she threw all of her experience and intelligence to the wind, storming after him. He had done this. She knew he had. Her entire life was burning to the ground because of him. She barely registered the white sheets laid over the form of bodies as she moved past the scene of the fires.
He was waiting for her when she got into the alley.
"Hello, darling," his voice was velvety smooth, deep and sultry. It was as attractive as his meatsuit was. "I was wondering when we'd get to meet."
"Who the hell are you?" Alex demanded, stalking towards him. "Why are you destroying my life?"
"I'm giving you incentive, darling," he cooed, and with a flick of his wrist she was pinned against the wall by an invisible force, a grimace on her face. He approached her casually, smiling until he saw how she was still cradling her wrist to her chest. "What's this?" he reached over and pried it away from her chest, exposing the underside of her wrist for the first time since the green-eyed demon had done… whatever it was, to it.
Where once smooth, unblemished skin had been, was now a very fresh burn. It was blistered and the skin was raised, but the strangest part was that it was more than just a burn. It was a symbol. A strange symbol that Alex had ever seen before but apparently the blonde man had, because he scowled at it.
"I see my dear old friend Beelzebub has already gotten to you," the man let go of her wrist, letting it drop and collide with the wall behind her. "No matter. Two can play at his game."
"Wha-" Alex began before he had gripped her right wrist, pulling it up to his face and winking at her. "No. Don't. What are you doing?"
"Relax. It'll only hurt a lot." And then he pressed his lips to the inside of her right wrist. A scream erupted out of her throat as the same excruciating pain ripped through her entire being. He didn't even bother trying to muffle her screaming until he pulled away, allowing her to crumple to the ground beneath him. "There. Was that so bad?" he crouched down to her level, smirking at her sarcastically. "Calm down. I was going to do it anyway. I just didn't expect him to have gotten to you already." Alex groaned slowly as the man placed his fingers under her chin, lifting her head so she would look at him. "Honestly, doll face, I should've done this years ago. But I guess we'll just have to make do."
Alex didn't respond as she tugged her head away from him, glaring at him with as much force as she could muster. "Go to hell."
He winked at her and stood up. "Been there; done that," he told her distractedly, glancing up the alley. "I'll see you later, sweetheart. Don't you worry." And he was gone.
Alex took in several deep breaths to calm herself, carefully holding her arms out in front of her, wrists turned to face her. She grimaced at what she saw. On her left wrist there was an angry, bright red mark (Google: "Beelzebub sigil" if you'd like an idea of what it looks like), and it still burned residually. On her right wrist was a new black mark. It burned her, too, but in a cold way like frostbite. Around the strange sign on her right wrist, in between two circles, were the letters A-S-T-A-R-O-T-H. Astaroth (Google: "Astaroth seal").
"Beelzebub and Astaroth…" Alex groaned, every muscle in her body aching as if she had been hit by a bus. Maybe being hit by a bus would've been better. She wasn't sure.
Black dots were swimming around in her vision as her arms slowly dropped onto her lap, and she was soon succumbing to the darkness.