A month had passed since the Winchesters had gotten me out of that cellar. Twenty-eight days since Cas had moved them all to safety, and twenty-one since the green elixir had run out. I was now well acquainted with weathering the raging fevers and cramping pains, trying to control the increasingly frequent flare-ups of energy on my own. The first two days After Cas I had spent running, just trying to get as far from Faulkner's nest and territory as possible, terrified to fall asleep or stop moving. The longer I ran the more I realized that if I was a walking bomb, I wanted to use that to take out as many of Faulkner's bastards as possible, even Faulkner himself if I could manage it without falling back into his control. So I had found an abandoned cabin somewhere deep in the woods of Kentucky to hunker down and regroup, come up with a plan. The first vampire had caught up to me on the fourth day and after an intense battle and victory, I had realized that everything I had learned about surviving on the streets was about to save my life. I rarely left to go on supply runs but on my few ventures out, I managed to find more lore books for research and build my own arsenal of weapons to take out any and all kinds of monsters.

Faulkner's demons and vampires didn't take long to find me, and I had now settled into a ready expectancy in my tiny cabin, just waiting for the next wave to come. I had managed to take out sixteen demons and three vampires so far, and none of my kills were from using my questionable Chinuitor powers. The lore books laid out in great detail what weapons could take out who, though there had definitely been some close calls when the lore left major details out.

I cursed Cas on a daily basis for not leaving Stokes with me. I hadn't been able to find any information about Faulkner's whereabouts or where his nests were at, and if Cas had just given me some time with Stokes, I could've extracted everything I needed before I slit his throat. I had been nursing a well-fed hatred of the angel since his rapid appearance and disappearance in my life, a hatred that was only outweighed by my gratefulness to him for keeping the Winchesters safe from me.

And today I certainly did not appreciate his abrupt appearance in my living room.

"What the fuck do you want?" I demanded roughly, slamming the front door behind me and dropping my few supplies to the floor. I had a hand on the knife at my hip but was wary of being the first to attack. He was an angel, after all. According to my reading, they apparently were scary powerful beings.

"I believe the customary greeting is 'hello'."

"Get out of my house, Castiel, or I'll kill you." My growl came out raspy from disuse.

"Hello, Alex. I believe we have not been formally introduced. I'm –" He extended a hand to me and took a step forward.

I dropped to a crouch, pulling my knife and eyeballing the sharp scythe leaning against the wall behind him. Not the prettiest way to behead vampires but effective, and I could only hope it would do the same to angels. "I know who you are, damn it. Get the fuck out."

His brow crinkled and he gave me a long puzzled look. "I have done nothing to you. Why do you assume I will attack?"

"I'm a monster, you're an angel. Doesn't take a genius." I stayed crouched, balancing on the balls of my feet and relishing the burn in my thighs. Most of the damage from the cellar had healed in my time alone, though I had learned to seriously hate rainy days. Made my bones ache something fierce and brought my darkest nightmares to the surface.

"You're half a monster," he corrected calmly, "which is why I am here. The Winchesters–"

"I don't want to hear about the fucking Winchesters. Just leave me alone."

His eyes narrowed. "The Winchesters have been concerned for your well-being. They have requested many times that I keep an eye on you and I have kindly kept both on you frequently. You cannot handle what is coming and I am here to assist."

I straightened to my full height, anger overriding my caution with the angel. "I can handle anything that comes through that door, and I do not need your help."

"I have watched you learn to dispatch demons and vampires and you have done much better than expected. Your vessel was not in very good condition after your time in captivity, and despite the Winchesters belief in you I did not feel you warranted healing. I had much larger matters to attend to at the time."

Awesome. Now even the angels thought I deserved to spend my days in agony, healing at a snail's pace.

"However, your claim that you can single-handedly manage what is coming is false. The illness that strikes is coming much more often and your next bout of sickness is due at any moment. The demon horde camped outside your cabin is aware of this as well and planning to attack when you are weakened."

Fuck. Mother fucking fucker. He had been watching me. The fevers had recently escalated and now had some rather unpleasant side effects. And what was this about a demon horde? "There isn't a horde – they only come a few at a time. I can handle –"

"There are one hundred and fifty-eight demons surrounding this building as of a few moments ago." Castiel tilted his head knowingly.

Shit. "But I just went on a supply run! I didn't see any of them!"

"There were only one hundred when you left for your supplies, the rest were summoned when you returned. They know that you will take out a fair amount of them if you are well. They have chosen to wait until your next bout of helplessness and recapture you. I believe their leader is tired of waiting for you to fully accept your transition."

"I am not helpless," I ground out. "I've taken out demons in the midst of a fever before."

Cas shifted uncomfortably. "I may have assisted a time or two. Just when you were ill."

So he had time to help me fight, but no time to help me heal so I could do it on my own. What bullshit. I glared at him. "I don't need you, Castiel. Besides, I thought it was too dangerous to be around me."

He held my gaze. "That is what I told the Winchesters. It was my belief at the time. But Sam and Dean believe they have found a way to contain the … explosion … should an incident occur."

My eyebrows flew up. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"There's no way to know for certain but they believe they will be protected—"

"And what—I'm just supposed to trust their hunch?!"

"If they are correct and there is no immediate danger to them, then I believe Sioux Falls will be the best place for you. Unfortunately, this process has gone on too long and I believe you are a far bigger risk on your own than under the watchful eye of Bobby Singer. You will be in good hands when we arrive." He reached out toward me again and I tensed.

"Like hell! I am not going anywhere with you!"

Cas's sigh was longsuffering. "I have explained the situation we are in – I am here to assist."

"I don't give a flying fuck what they think they can contain! If they're wrong -"

"I can feel the power shifting in this room – you are about to succumb to another wave of illness. You are of great value to Dean and Sam and they have requested that I do everything possible to secure your well-being. Come with me to Bobby Singer's and you will at least have a chance at survival."

"Cas, I'm not—" Oh, shit. The room spun around me and I tilted precariously, vertigo stealing my sense of security. "Just… leave me here. I can … handle … the demons." A wave of sensation broadsided me, knocking me to my knees for a long moment. I forced myself to get my legs beneath me and stand before the angel, but every sense was sharpened to the point of pain and I struggled to get my shields up. My ears rang with a cacophony of indecipherable noises that seemed strengthened by the angel's presence in the room, as if he drew them in. As I tried to focus on our conversation his sense of purpose abruptly became overwhelming and I felt buried beneath the weight of it.

"I am sorry, Alexis, but not even you can be so foolish as to take on one hundred and fifty-eight demons on your own. I know that this will be unpleasant for you but we need to go. Now." Suddenly his arm was around my waist and he was pressed tight to my back, his trench coat enveloping us both as air whistled around us.

The physical contact with the angel caused the incoming sensations to shift to a higher screeching whine in my ears as we transported. I hunched and twisted, just wanting the clawing sound to cease before I lost my mind. My feet hit a cement floor hard, and I struggled to orient myself.

"I have done my best to shield you from the worst of it," Cas murmured in my ear. "I hope I have not caused you too severe a discomfort." He released me and I stumbled, unable to right myself in the midst of new sensations and noises. I grabbed my temples, trying to grasp something, anything, that would ground me in this new place.

"Alex?! Where the hell have you been? Are you okay? Cas, what's wrong with her?!" Dean. His familiar whiskey roughened voice almost brought tears to my eyes and I clung to the sound, not caring if it was a memory or figment of my imagination. The rest of the cacophony dropped in pitch, still present but not as overwhelming.

"She will survive, Dean—"

"Damn it, Cas, I've asked you a thousand times to bring her back! If she's hurt, so help me…!"

"Alex?" Bobby's voice brought on a wave of uncertainty that nearly buckled my knees. Damn. This was going to be a bad spell, I could tell. I pried my eyes open experimentally and tried to focus through the haze of pain. Cas, Bobby, and Dean all stared at me cautiously and I realized we were in a basement. There was a large metal door behind Bobby and a stairwell off to my left. Storage boxes, books, and odd tools covered every surface.

"Fuck." I groaned and dropped my head back into my hands. "Damn you, Cas, take me back!" There was so much sadness in this room I was choking on it. I couldn't even differentiate who it was coming from. I fought against the weight of their sorrow. "There's no way you can contain me if something happens – it's too dangerous for me to be here—"

Bobby grimaced. "Trust me, after the past month with those two crawling up my ass about finding you, there's no way I am letting you out of my sight again. And we did find a way to limit the risks—"

The flood of certainty that he felt only told me that he believed what he was saying, not that it was true. "I'm not doing it, Bobby, I'm not putting you all in danger—"

"You're the only one in danger here. It's better for you to be here and complete the transition where we can help –"

"Nothing has changed! I refuse to – oh God…" Agony shattered my senses, skin bursting open along my back. I arched into the pain as five distinct gouges started flowing streams of blood down my back.

"What the hell?!" Dean rushed over, hands hovering as he watched me writhe.

Cas flicked a heavy look at Bobby. "It's Sam—he has returned and he is injured."

"Will she…?"

"She will be all right. Sam needs you right now."

"Damn werewolf… told that boy not to go out when he was so distracted." Bobby muttered and cursed as he rapidly scaled the stairs.

"Don't just stand there, Cas, heal her!" Dean grabbed a fistful of Castiel's trench coat.

Cas gave him a flat stare. "Give it a few moments."

I deserve to suffer… even angels think I deserve to suffer…

I focused on the pain, relieved as all the outside noises and emotions dulled in the wake of the heat that filled me. It poured through my veins and I was suddenly enveloped in Sam. He was worried, hurting, and anxious and I didn't care for it at all. The emotions sank into my bones until they were my emotions and feelings. "Sam, I need to get to Sam-" I struggled to my feet and pushed Dean out of the way, scrambling toward the stairwell.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Dean bellowed, following closely on my heels.

We burst through the door at the top to find Bobby with an arm wrapped around a limping Sam, lowering him to the couch. I hurried to his side before collapsing on the floor beside him, blood beginning to drip down my sides from the scourging marks on my back. Sam had mirroring marks on his own, and his face was white with pain.

"Damn it, Sam, what were you thinking?" I murmured, relief at seeing his face quickly being overwhelmed with the ache to ease his suffering. I gently brushed the hair out of his face.

"Alex?" His eyes were hazy, and I could literally feel the pain radiating from him. "Are you really here?" His gaze shifted to Dean. "Did Cas finally bring her back?"

"Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on! And Cas, for the love of all that is holy, fucking do something!"

Dean's heavy wash of anger and helplessness pounded at my back. Closing my eyes, I struggled to filter it out. "Sam, I'm going to help, okay? I need you not to fight me. Please. It will hurt more if you fight me." I ran a gentle hand down his face and reached down to wrap my fingers through his, bringing our clasped hands up to rest against my forehead and braced myself. Gritting my teeth, I rested my hand on Sam's chest and blocked everything out but the feel of his heartbeat beneath my touch. I breathed shallowly, matching my rhythm to his as our heartbeats slowly started to synchronize. I let the ever present heat beneath my skin flare to life. It flowed into him, searching out the injuries all over his body, and imprinting the pulse of his blood and the texture of his skin and bones into my own. I was relieved to find only minor injuries other than the claw marks along his spine, and focused every ounce of energy I contained to narrow my focus on the ruptured skin. I concentrated on forcing his muscles and tendons back together, to connect and undo the damage that had been done. Time was irrelevant but I could tell it was passing swiftly. A long, shuddering sigh escaped me as I finished. I felt hollow, wrung out and all of the emotions in the room rushed into me, sending pain needling into my temples.

Sam wrapped an arm around me as I slumped against him. "Thanks," he whispered against my forehead.

"Anytime," I whimpered.

"Cas, if I don't start getting some answers soon, I'm going to shoot someone!" Dean bellowed, his emotions so strong they were almost a tangible thing.

Cas calmly took a step away from Dean. "That would be unwise and solve nothing. Alex doesn't have the reserves to heal anyone else."

Dean swore as stumbled over and jerked Sam's bloody shirt up his back. The look he flashed me was a conflicting mixture of relief and concern. He gripped Sam's shoulder tightly. "You all right, man?"

"I'm good. Alex, are you?"

In a flash Dean was behind me, shoving my shirt up my back to reveal a bloody mess but no wounds. "How did you take it from him downstairs? You weren't anywhere near him!" He demanded. The emotions rolling off him in waves strengthened. He was angry, and anxious, and somehow so relieved that that emotion nearly eclipsed all the others.

I shook my head groggily as Sam hauled me up onto the couch beside him, getting us both into a sitting position. "Things changed while I was gone. If I'm near people who are hurt I sometimes … share … their wounds now until I can heal them. Sort of like a homing beacon for who I am supposed to help, I guess."

"Are you serious?! That's…" Dean trailed off and ran his hands through his hair, the heavy weight of frustration beginning to outweigh the relief.

Silence fell and I closed my eyes. Sam was okay. Dean was okay. And I was the one in knots over people I barely knew. What sort of hold did these Winchester men have over me? They were so damn endearing it made me sick.

Sam gently squeezed me, his arm still wrapped around my shoulders. "Have you been okay?"

"I'm fine, Sam."

"We've been worried about you. Cas wasn't telling us much, just that Faulkner hadn't caught you yet, and it was safer for you to be on your own. We tried to find you, Alex, Dean and I both did but you had no trail. Who the hell taught you how to cover your tracks?"

I huffed a small laugh. "Have you forgotten how I grew up? I taught myself."

"Well, you'll make a damn good hunter one day." He smiled as he tucked me in closer.

I let myself curl a bit into his side, focusing on his calming emotions and letting them push away the chaos of Dean's. "One day? I'm not a half bad hunter right now." I couldn't help but lift my chin a little in pride. "Took down sixteen demons and three vampires since Cas vamoosed you all away."

"What?! Are you fucking kidding me?!" Sam thundered, his grip tightening on me painfully. "Cas!" Sam dropped me and lurched across the room toward the angel. "You said she was fine – you said you were keeping an eye on her! She killed sixteen demons—on her own!"

"Sixteen? In one month?! Damn girl, you sure figured things out quick," Bobby muttered in surprise.

Dean didn't even bother with words, he just flanked Sam and they boxed Castiel into the corner, their expressions murderous. Cas's face remained stoic. "The demons were playing with her, she was in no real danger. They wanted to test her abilities and gauge whether she was able to heal herself of injuries sustained in battle yet. They also falsely believed that Morton's suppositions about Chinuitors not being able to cause harm to any living creature were true. They were baffled at her ability to wield a weapon." His gaze jumped between the boys as my pride in my kills withered. "Did you hear me? She was in no real danger. They were just testing-"

"Don't think for a minute that that gets you off the hook for this, Cas," Sam growled, looming closer as the angel's stoic expression cracked, bleeding frustration. Cas simply disappeared.

"Fuck!" Dean bellowed, slamming a fist into the wall where Castiel had just stood. He swung around to face me and I recoiled from the onslaught of emotional input. Anger rolled off him in waves, and it sank into me, igniting the heat.

I struggled to tamp it down and understand what was going on. "Who's Morton?"

Sam ran a hand through his shaggy hair distractedly. "He was a seventh century Folklorist. We found every scrap of information on Chinuitors that we could while you were away, and he seemed to know the most about them. He believed that they were originally created as beings of light and healing, with an abundance of compassion and care for those around them. Apparently your case isn't isolated, people have tried to turn Chinuitors forcefully before but something happens—because they were originally created as a healing and light filled species, the lore says any potential Chinuitor host can't harbor negative energy or the process cannot be completed. They will remain in a constant state of stasis until the flux of the power overwhelms them." Both he and Dean started pacing what little room was available, waiting for Cas to reappear. Their aggravation started pounding at my temples.

"I don't understand," I struggled to focus, to keep my train of thought against the chaos of emotions bombarding me from around the room. "How have there ever been Chinuitor then? Negative energy is a part of life, it's unavoidable."

"True," Bobby grunted. "Which is why I think the translation is a little rough and means a balanced amount of energy, both good and bad." His evaluating gaze was heavy on my shoulders.

"That means there was never any hope of getting through this." My tone was flat. "From the very beginning every demon in that cellar worked at creating more negative energy. If the boys hadn't gotten me out that torture would've gone on until they killed me."

Bobby's attention suddenly shifted as if my words had flipped a switch in his brain. "That's only true if Faulkner had done a purebred Chinuitor conversion…"

"What are you saying, Bobby?" Sam crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"Faulkner wouldn't have made such a simple mistake. Even attempting this took decades of planning…" His words trailed off as he swept his hat off his head, scratching absently. "Faulkner would have calculated the balance in somehow, altered the blood tie to accommodate the extra darkness inside her-"

Dean stopped in his tracks. "Wait, is the imbalance in her energy is the only thing keeping her power fluctuating?" The hope that bloomed in his chest nearly swept my breath away. "That means if we fix her energy, that fixes everything!"

Cas abruptly reappeared on the far side of the room, a wary eye on each Winchester. "…No, Dean."

"What do you mean, no?" Dean snarled. "If too much dark energy is what is keeping her from becoming a Chinuitor, then why the hell not? We can fix this, Cas!"

Cas hesitated.

"Right?" Dean pressed.

Cas's expression closed. "It's not that simple, Dean."

"Of course not," Dean fists clenched and a muscle ticked in his jaw. "Just like it's not as simple as you hid her from us and left her to battle the monsters alone just for the hell of it."

"I brought her back for you, Dean," Cas said sharply and the emotion in the room escalated from all directions. "You said her well-being was important to you. To all of you. So I brought her. For you."

"But you don't think we can fix her," Bobby's voice roughened and his sudden wave of doubt nearly took me out at the knees.

The angel's expression was unreadable as the silence stretched out. "…There's just as much risk putting her under that much strain physically as leaving her out there to fight that demon horde alone."

I managed to get to my feet. "Then why did you bring me here, Cas?" My words began to strain as I advanced on him determinedly, fighting hard to block out everyone's mounting dread. "You said it was too dangerous out there, you said I had a chance at survival if we came back here. Why did you bring me here, Cas?!" He remained stoic and comprehension began to dawn. "You said they knew how to protect themselves from me. You said they figured out how to contain me. You… you brought me back to here to die, didn't you? Didn't you?! Answer me, you son of a bitch!"

He swallowed hard and finally met my eyes. The regret in them was overwhelming. "The threat to innocents will be … contained, this way."
The tension in the room ratcheted to an unbearable level and busted through the feeble shields I had been trying to keep up. A high, keening cry of pain filled the room and I folded into a fetal position, arms wrapped around my head to try and escape it. Oh, god. It's too much, I can't handle it—the pain was tearing me apart… Warm arms wrapped around me, pulling me into an embrace and I fought it, touch only bringing in their emotions more strongly. Anxiety flowed from their pores, concern and helplessness an underlying layer and I couldn't do it. I couldn't block it out. It sank into me, pushing out all of my own thoughts and emotions and all I could feel was Dean.

"Easy, it's going to be okay, you'll be all right…" Soft murmurs were whispered against my hair and his arms quickly subdued my frantic flailing. He pulled me into his lap and surrounded me with stress.

"Please, make it stop…" I whimpered, arms still wrapped around my head, trying to block out that grating, keening wail.

"Easy, baby girl, it's going to be fine. We will figure this out, you'll be all right." He pulled me closer and the helplessness increased until I couldn't block the tears running down my face.

"Dean, you're hurting her."

"Shut up, Cas!" He snapped and my tears flowed harder as his tension increased.

"Her symptoms have changed in her time away, Dean, listen to me- what you knew as headaches and cramping muscles has progressed to these episodes." Cas's stoic calm was disintegrating further with every moment and even he was beginning to project that overwhelming sense of helplessness. "She is empathic now. Your embrace is hurting her, it's burying her beneath your emotions. Can you not see the pain in her eyes?"

A long string of profanities filled the air before the emotion in the room significantly dampened from all four sources. The keening wail stopped abruptly and I sucked in a shuddering breath, gutted to realize it had been coming from me. I had been the one wailing uncontrollably. I couldn't stop the tears and Dean pulled me closer, the stifling anxiety giving way to the jagged press of quiet. Just a complete and utter sense of calm from him and then a very soft, very intentional wave of comfort.

I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his neck, unable to choke back a fresh flood of relieved tears.

"It's fine, baby girl, you're safe. We'll take care of you." He pressed soft kisses to my hair and his hand stroked gentle circles on my back. I knew I would regret this moment with him tomorrow but I felt completely stripped of all my defenses. He pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and cocooned it around me, never ceasing his soft murmuring. His scent filled every breath I took-whiskey and motor oil and Dean.

I closed my eyes and cuddled in closer, drowning in his serenity and using it to anchor myself. I dropped under a wave of exhaustion with the other men's voices a quiet rumble in the background and the soft notes of Hey Jude hummed in my ear.