May 5th, 2014
Lebanon, Kansas
The bunker door slammed closed, announcing the arrival of Sam and Dean Winchester, and Alex stirred at the sound. She was laying on her side, tucked softly into Castiel's warm, sturdy chest. She lifted her head, grace stretching out in search of the brothers, and Castiel shifted behind her. His heavy arm resting across her stomach drew her in closer, and the seraph let out a low, pained groan.
"How are you feeling?" Alex leaned her head back, and the seraph's lips came to rest against her neck for a brief moment. She hummed in delight, grace reaching back to curl around his.
"I'm healing," Castiel finally rumbled out. "Not as fast as I wished, but I have improved." His fingers moved, tracing the outline of her own bandage, and he asked, "And you?"
"I'm fine." Alex rolled over and sat up, running a hand through her messy blonde hair. "Oh!" She looked around the room, and a grin spread across her face. "You've never been here before." She tossed back the covers and stood up, pulling on a black and white plaid shirt over her white tee and sweatpants. "Come on. I have to show you the bunker. This place is sick — awesome," she corrected before Castiel could question her phrasing.
The seraph slowly rose to his feet. "I remember you mentioned the Men of Letters bunker," he recalled. "You were quite excited about it."
"You bet I was." Alex walked over to Castiel and took his hand, leading him out into the hallway. "Come on. Let's go find the Winchesters, and then I'll give you the grand tour."
She could feel the Winchesters in the library, so she took him the long way around towards the kitchen. "There's an upstairs and a downstairs," she explained, pointing towards the two staircases. "Upstairs is my favorite. We have a gym and a sparring area. And downstairs there's a shooting range," she added, tugging him along. "This floor is mostly bedrooms, some archives, and the kitchen. Ooh and the library." They stepped out into the library to find Sam seated at the war room table. "Morning," she called, and the younger Winchester looked up.
"Morning," Castiel echoed, and Alex frowned when Dean brushed past them without a word and disappeared off towards the kitchen. "I like this bunker," Castiel continued, but Alex could see the hurt in his eyes at Dean's cold shoulder. "It's orderly."
Sam chuckled. "Oh, give us a few months. Dean and Alex want to get a ping pong table."
"Damn straight we do," Alex quipped. She moved down to lean against the chair across from Sam. The table was covered with Men of Letters archives.
Castiel followed. "I've heard of that. It's a game, right?" He let out a groan of pain, leaning against a metal chair for support, and Alex stretched out a worried wing.
Sam looked up in concern. "Are you okay?"
"My wound isn't healing as quickly as I'd hope," the seraph admitted, "but I am getting better. And you're getting worse," he added with a deep frown.
The Winchester shrugged. "Well, two trials down, one to go." His eyes dried down to the folders piled in front of him.
"And the final test, do you — do you know what it is?" Castiel pressed.
Sam nodded, and Alex answered, "Sure do. We have to cure a demon." She watched as her mate's face twisted in confusion. "Yeah, I know," she agreed. "It's weird. And I don't think we know how to do that yet, right?" she added to Sam.
"Right," the Winchester agreed, and he motioned to the mass of folders that lay in front of him. "So that's why we're looking through every file the Men of Letters have on demonic possession. All three hundred years worth."
Alex winced sympathetically. "Ouch. That's a lot."
"Soup's on." Dean returned to the room carrying a tray, and he put it down in front of his brother. Alex raised an eyebrow at the meager portions that lay on the plate. "There we go. I think this is, uh …" Dean picked up the open beer bottle and raised it to his lips to have a taste. "Oh, it's still good."
Sam stared down at his so-proclaimed 'meal.' "A half-drunk beer, jerky, and three peanut butter cups?" he finally asked in disbelief.
"Yeah," Dean defended, "we're — we're running a little low …" He trailed off at the puppy-like look on Sam's face, and he caved. "I'll make a run." He crossed the room to grab his jacket and keys.
"I can go with you," Castiel quickly volunteered, but Dean gathered up his things like the seraph hadn't spoken. "Dean," Cas began again, "I'm sorry."
Dean shrugged on his jacket, and he finally turned to speak to the seraph. "For what?"
Castiel hesitated, at a loss for words, until he finally admitted, "For everything."
"Everything?" the Winchester repeated, his voice flat with anger and disbelief. "Like, uh … like ignoring us?"
"Yes."
"Or bolting off with the angel tablet, then losing it cause you didn't trust me?" Dean continued. "You didn't trust me." His voice was calm, which somehow was worse than his anger.
The seraph's shoulders fell, but he didn't even attempt to argue. "Yes," he agreed as he tried to appease the hunter in front of him.
Dean wasn't having it. "Yeah," he repeated. "Nah, that's not gonna cut it. Not this time. So you can take your apology and you cram it up your ass."
Alex finally stepped forward. "Dean, that's not what happened," she began, and the Winchester rounded on her.
"You shut it," he snapped, a finger pointed at her chest, and the angel's feathers ruffled angrily. "Don't forget you left, too. You don't get to defend him."
Castiel's wings stretched out, resting against Alex's back. "Dean," he started, and the Winchester's gaze swung back over to him. "I thought I was doing the right thing."
"Yeah, you always do."
Sam, who had been sitting quietly behind them, awkwardly cleared his throat, and Alex turned to look at him, thankful for the interruption. "Hey, uh, do we have a room 7B?" he asked, finger tapping the folder he had been reading through.
Dean stalked back down the hall without another word, heading towards the staircase in the back of the bunker, and Sam followed, casting an apologetic shrug in the two angels' direction as he left. Alex watched them go with a shake of her head. "Ignore Dean," she finally said when the brothers were out of earshot. "He doesn't understand." She reached out and took the seraph's hand in hers, wings brushing comfortingly against his. "Come on. Room 7B should be downstairs. I'll show you the upstairs."
Alex tugged him after her, and they made their way up to the gym. "This bunker is very large," the seraph commented, eyes turned upwards at the high ceiling. "It must be nice to finally have a place to stay."
"It's wonderful, yeah. At least until we get back to heaven." Alex looked up into Castiel's eyes, a small smile across her lips. "That's our true home, right?"
The seraph's eyes softened, and his voice dropped into a soft murmur. "My home is wherever you are," he promised.
Alex's wings flittered gently, and she leaned up, palms resting against Castiel's chest as she pressed a kiss on his lips. Warm hands came to rest on her hips, and Alex reached up to curl her fingers in his dark hair. "I missed you," she whispered, as her heart skipped a joyful beat as the seraph's wings curled around her.
"I missed you as well." Castiel's eyes moved to look back at the hallway from which they had come from. "What else is there in this bunker?" he inquired, and he followed when Alex hurried back towards the stairs.
"Up here." The young angel bounded up a separate staircase and stepped out into the Men of Letters garage. "We haven't figured out how to get the door open yet," she began, motioning towards the ramp at the far end of the room. "Something's broken in the electronics or mechanics — I don't know — that's why the Impala's still outside." She flicked her wings towards the motorcycles. "As far as I know, every vehicle here should still work."
She watched as the seraph took in the room with careful, contemplative gaze, and then she pulled him after her as she went back down the stairs. She heard dialogue coming from the library, and curiosity got the better of her. Her wings carried her down the hall, leaving Castiel to follow, and she landed at Sam's side.
The Winchesters were standing in front of an old 8mm projector, faces twisted into frowns as they studied the machine. "Whatcha doing?" Alex asked, head tipping to find an old reel resting on on the lower spoke. "And what's with the old Keystone?"
"What?" Sam asked, and Dean echoed him from across the table. Alex's head tipped up at the scent of salt and butter. Popcorn. Dean had made popcorn.
"Keystone." The angel pointed to the projector. "Also why is the film on the take-up reel? Is that on purpose, or do you just have no idea what you're doing?" She flicked her wings back at Castiel, a small twinge of satisfaction passing through her to find the Winchesters speechless. "My dad used to collect these," she explained with a small shrug, looking between Sam and Dean. "What? I seriously never mentioned it? We used to watch cartoons all the time." She quickly switched the two reels, putting the empty one on the bottom before she deftly threaded the film into the machine.
The projector came to life when she flicked the switch, and the reels whirred as the film caught. "Thanks." Sam moved out of the way so the bulb could illuminate the screen he had set up in the doorway between the war room and the library.
"Yeah, no problem." Alex sat down to the left of the projector, and the two brothers pulled up chairs on the right. "Can I ask why we've suddenly decided to watch a movie? And where we found this — I didn't know we had a working projector here," she added as she grabbed a handful of popcorn.
The leader ran out, it's black-and-white numbers counting down to two, and then a man was on screen, sitting at the bottom of a small flight of stairs. "Simon, we're filming," a woman began, and the man looked up in surprise.
He was young, barely older than twenty five, with thick dark hair. "Um … hello, world," he said, and Alex let out a humph of curiosity when the camera moved to show the man's white priestly collar. A cigarette rested between his middle and index finger, the white smoke drifting up into frame even as the camera zoomed in on his face.
"So, this new ritual we're going to see," the woman behind the camera continued, "this new type of exorcism, how — how does it work?"
"Simon, come," a man boomed in the distance, and Simon looked back up the stairs towards its source.
The young priest quickly put out his cigarette in the crystal ashtray he was holding. "I-I don't know," he admitted. "It's my first time." He rose to his feet, and the camera dipped down, and for a few seconds Alex couldn't make out anything until it rose back up. It was pointed towards a mirror, giving the hunters a clear view of the woman behind the camera.
"Wait, is that Abaddon?" Sam leaned forward towards his brother, and Alex flicked a wing in disgust at the memory of the Knight of Hell.
Dean shook his head. "It's not killy enough."
"It's probably the woman she possessed, then," Alex concluded with a glanced back at them. "Uh, Henry called her 'Josie,' remember?" When she turned back to the screen, the scene had shifted to another room. She could hear a woman, crying and grunting in distress, and the angel narrowed her eyes as the camera followed Simon.
Another priest stood there, behind a table cluttered with books and spellwork. "Hurry, we must do it now," he insisted, and before Alex could vocalize her confusion, the camera panned. A woman knelt in between two pillars; chains kept her there, one end tethered to the pillars and the other attached to handcuffs around her wrist. She was dressed in an old, dingy dress, and her white hair and wrinkled face were dirty.
"Dead!" she screeched wildly, and her eyes flashed black as the camera zoomed in. "They're all dead! Everyone you ever loved —"
The rest of her sentence was drowned out by Sam. "Hey, those chains look exactly like the ones in our dungeon," he insisted.
Castiel's head turned to look back at the Winchester. "In your what?" he asked, face momentarily blank with surprise.
"Wait, we have a dungeon?" Alex faced Sam, eyebrows lifted as she wrapped her head around this revelation. "Kinky." She immediately regretted her words when Dean's green gaze turned onto her, and she rolled her eyes. "Not for me," she retorted. "Just … in general."
The Winchester shrugged, and his attention turned back to the bound and screaming demon. "Demon on a leash," he said instead. "Cool."
The older priest had stepped forward so that he now stood in front of the possessed woman, and she screamed when she was doused in holy water. "Exorcizamus the," he began, and Simon shakily joined in, a rosary extended towards the demonic entity, "omnis immundus spiritus … hanc animam redintegra … lustra!"
We exorcise you, every unclean spirit … you be restored to this life … be clean! The words translated in the young angel's mind, and Alex leaned forward; those weren't the typical words to an exorcism.
The older priest drew a knife across his palm to complete the ritual, and he reached out and placed the bloody wound across the demon's lips. She let out a muffled scream, and light exploded from her eyes, overexposing the film and causing it to grow white for several seconds. When the light finally faded, Josie was peering down into the camera, a confused frown across her face.
She tipped it back towards the scene in front of her; the demon lay on the ground, clearly dead. A gaping hole was in the center of her chest, and Alex squinted as she tried to make out the mess of ribs and flesh; the heart seemed to have been completely ripped out from the body. "She's dead," Josie said, and Alex heard the two priests coughing in the background. "Where's the demon?"
"Stop filming," the oldest priest said.
Josie didn't listen. "What happened —"
"Will you just stop?!" The priest moved towards the woman, hands stretched outwards to stop her himself.
Any response was lost as the camera was shut off, and the whipping of the end of the film against the projector was heard as the movie ended. Sam reached over and turned it off. "Well, that was weird …" Dean finally remarked. "With three exclamation points."
"That … wasn't a normal exorcism," Sam added, still staring at the empty screen. "They changed the words."
"Yeah," Alex agreed. "They commanded the demon to be clean. Lustra — it means to be washed or cleansed."
Dean huffed. "Oh yeah, cause the most freaky thing was the vocabulary," he retorted, and he turned in his seat so he now sat facing the angels across the table. "What about the bloody high-five or the chest burster? Anything else on the film, like director's commentary, sequel, maybe?" he asked his brother.
Sam nodded. "Yeah, listen to this. The older priest, Max Thompson, bit the dust in '58, but the younger one is still alive and still in St. Louis."
The Winchester frowned. "Is this kind of weird is worth the drive?"
"Dean, everything in those folders — the possessions, the deals, all of it — we've seen that before, but this," he motioned towards the film "— that was all new. Yeah, it's worth the drive."
Dean nodded; clearly he needed little convincing himself. "Alright. Let's roll." He hit the table with the palm of his hand, and Castiel immediately stood. Dean frowned. "Not you."
Cas tilted his head as he stared incredulously down at Dean. "Sam is more damaged than I am," he pointed out.
"Yeah, well, you know, even banged up, Sammy comes through," Dean said, and Alex rose to her feet to stand beside her mate.
"Dean, I just want to help," the seraph insisted, and his wings fell when Dean Winchester shook his head.
"We don't need your help. Just stay here and — and get better." He rose to his feet with a glance towards Alex. "And you stay here with him. Sam and I've got this. We'll call if we need any help."
Alex watched as Dean Winchester grabbed a handful of popcorn and left the room, and she turned onto Sam, her shoulders falling as she turned her eyebrows up in a face of hurt innocence. "I'll talk to him," Sam promised. "He … he's just under a lot of stress right now, a-and you know how he gets." He moved back after Dean, and Alex grunted out a low noise of affirmation: that didn't feel like it excused his behavior towards Castiel.
"Well, I guess it's just going to be you and me for the day," she said when the door opened and closed after the Winchesters. "So. What do you want to do?"
...
Alex drummed her fingers on Castiel's chest in time with the music emanating from the tv. They were laying on the couch in the room Alex and Dean had converted to a tv room, watching an old Disney movie that Alex had found on Hulu. Castiel hadn't protested, but Alex could feel his confusion. "I don't think I understand," he finally said, and Alex hummed, wordlessly asking him to continue. "How is the elephant able to fly? That's not possible if you take into account its body mass and the size of its unnaturally large ears —"
"It's not supposed to be possible, it's a cartoon." Alex let out a groan as the seraph shifted beneath her. "Don't go," she whined, and she sat up to look down at Castiel. "How's your stomach?" she inquired, placing a gentle hand beside where she knew the bandage lay.
The seraph's wings flicked as Alex drew back his shirt. "I'm healing," he promised, grace reaching up to curl around hers. "I should be well in the next few days."
Alex peeled the bandage aside to examine the bullet hole; it was closing up nicely. She pressed the tape back into place and pulled Castiel's shirt back down, leaning over to press a quick kiss upon his lips. "Looks good," she agreed. "Why are you healing so quickly? I was limping for like, a week."
"A seraph's grace is stronger," Castiel explained. "Yours is much weaker — it has no need to be very powerful," he reminded as he slowly sat up. "You're not supposed to be involved in such conflict."
"Well, I guess we both just like to be rebels," the young angel teased, but her smile faded when Castiel's face fell. "Sorry," she apologized, "insensitive." She paused the movie and reached over to check her phone. "The Winchesters will be back in a few hours. What do you want to do?"
Castiel's brow furrowed as he thought. "Dean said you were almost out of food," he finally said. "Perhaps we should go buy some for when they return."
Alex shrugged. "Uh, sure. Why not?" She got up off of the couch and shook out her dark wings. "There's a couple of convenience stores in town — Dean usually only shops at the Gas 'N Sips, though, but —"
"We'll go there." Castiel's wings unfurled, and he took off into the air, leaving Alex to hurriedly follow. She caught a glimpse of navy wings disappearing over the city of Lebanon, and she propelled herself after him. The angel dropped down in front of the local Gas N' Sip and stepped inside, feathers fluffing out then smoothing back down as she was blasted with warm air above the automatic double doors. She flicked her grace out, curling around Castiel's as she walked over to join her mate. "Hello," he greeted.
"Hey," Alex echoed back. "Thanks for just taking off like that." She glanced over at the teen that stood behind the counter, and she lowered her voice. "Little warning next time." She looked down at the basket in Castiel's right hand; a air-tight pack of off-brand jerky sat in the bottom. In the seraph's hand was a Busty Asians magazine. "What's with the porn?" she asked. "Porn's not food."
Castiel looked down at the skin mag. "I know," he agreed, "but Dean enjoys them."
"Put it back."
The seraph did as Alex requested, but the slight furrowing of his brow showed his confusion at what she had found so disagreeable about it. However, he added a quiet, "My apologies," before turning to look at the rows of food that lay in front of them. "What do the Winchesters eat?" he inquired.
Alex snorted in amusement. "Beer mostly." She watched as Castiel walked away towards the back of the store, and the angel followed with a roll of her eyes. With Castiel in the lead, this expedition was bound to be exciting.
The seraph paused on his way back to the freezer, and his hands went out to rest on a package of generic toilet paper. He squinted, thinking carefully, before he finally asked, "This … this is a necessity, right?"
Alex only shrugged. "People use it a lot, yeah," she agreed, with a small, amused grin. "You're the one who wanted to go shopping, so I'm going to let you shop."
The frown on Castiel's face conveyed his displeasure at being put in charge of such a difficult task, but he only flicked his wings before he tucked the toilet paper into his wire basket and continued on to the refrigerators in the far wall. He opened the door and pulled out a six-pack of beer, struggling only momentarily to fit the beer into the basket before he walked away. The store's clerk turned the corner, and he shook his head when he saw the open fridge door. "Dude."
"Sorry," Alex apologized, moving to shut the glass door. "He's a little spaced ou —"
"Dude." The clerk's attention was drawn back to Castiel, and Alex let out a grimace to see the seraph standing with a carton of eggs in one hand, a crushed eggshell in the other.
"Sorry, we'll, uh, we'll pay for that." Alex hurried to stand in front of Castiel, and she took the eggs from his hands. "I don't think we need any of these," she told him. "Sam and Dean — they usually go for the, uh ... canned stuff, you know?"
Castiel's eyes lit up in understanding, and he nodded. Alex set the carton of eggs down on a nearby shelf so the cashier running the store could easily find them when he cleaned up the mess — poor kid — and then she moved off after her mate. He had meandered over to the small produce section, and a bunch of bananas now sat beside the beer in his wire basket. "It's not canned," he began when she approached, "but I saw them sitting in the kitchen of the bunker."
Alex shrugged, and a wing went out to flick against his. "That's fine," she assured. "Sam likes them, so they'll get eaten."
Satisfied with her answer, Castiel moved down the next aisle. Alex followed patiently, only pausing to grab a bag of chips off of the shelf for herself. She could hear the clerk cleaning up the mess in the back aisle, and she moved to walk at Castiel's side, dropping her chips in beside the bananas.
Castiel stopped at the end cap where cans of chili had been stacked in a neat triangle. He picked up a can, head tipping to one side as he read the label. His wings flittered in confusion, and Alex winced as they bumped into the rack of chips as he backed up. The metal shelf hit the ground with a loud crash, and the seraph spun around.
"Dude!" The clerk appeared around the corner, brown eyes wide.
"I — I have money," Castiel offered, and his wings drew in close, careful not to knock anything else over.
"I'll pick this up. You … just go pay." Alex motioned off towards the counter. "And don't break anything while you're up there, okay?" She hauled the rack back up onto its feet while Castiel and the clerk walked over to the register.
"Where's the pie?" she heard Castiel ask, and Alex rolled her eye at the request; clearly he was trying to worm his way back into Dean's good graces.
She started arranging the chip bags back onto the shelf as the cashier shrugged. "I think we're out."
"You don't understand." Castiel's voice grew low and sharp, and Alex looked up in shock to see that he had the clerk by the shirt collar, wings flared up as he demanded, "I need pie."
"Whoa!" Alex jumped forward to stop him, but another voice had her freezing in place.
"Put the virgin down, Castiel." Metatron appeared at the seraph's side, and Alex skidded to a stop. "We need to talk."
"Metatron?" Alex stepped forward, and Castiel dropped the clerk as he turned to face the new arrival. "What are you doing here?"
"I need to speak with Castiel." The scribe motioned to the seraph, and Castiel's head tipped as Metatron walked out the door. He immediately moved after him.
Alex followed, casting a apologetic smile back at the clerk, who was staring after her mate, his mouth hanging open. She paused beside the counter to picked up the white plastic bags of food. "Here." The young angel dug forty dollars out of her pocket and handed it to the teen. "I … I hope this covers your troubles … and all."
She stepped out of the Gas N Sip to find the two angels making their way across the street. "You're Metatron?" Castiel asked the scribe. "The Metatron?"
"Yes," Metatron agreed, and he lowered his voice as he cast a wary look around. "In public, it's Marv."
"Marv?" Castiel repeated, and Alex snorted, moving to walk at her mate's side.
Metatron nodded. "And you're Castiel," he finished, and his white wings fluttered as a car sped by. "Kevin Tran told me about you."
"He did?" Alex moved forward to stand in front of them, effectively stopping the angels in their tracks. "How's Kevin doing? He's recovering well, right?"
"Kevin Tran is fine," the scribe promised. "And he's had many great stories to tell," he added, turning back to Castiel. "According to him, you and I have a lot in common. We're both free thinkers. We're both on heaven's most wanted list. I thought maybe we could talk in private. Maybe socialize, grab a bite."
"I—I'm sorry, we can — what?" Castiel looked between the scribe and his mate, confusion flitting through his blue eyes.
"That sounds like a great idea," Alex agreed, and she stretched her black wings out. "A little bonding time between brothers — I think that would do you good." She flicked Castiel in the arm with a wingtip. "I'll meet you back at the bunker, alright?"
She didn't wait for an answer before she took off into the air.
...
The bunker door slammed closed, and Alex looked up as footsteps thudded on the stairs. She reluctantly rose to her feet and moved off down the hall in search of the Winchesters. The young angel's wings flared in surprise as she turned the corner and walked straight into Sam's broad chest. "Whoa!" she jumped back and let out a loud breath. "You scared me."
"Uh, sorry." Sam glanced behind her, clearly looking for someone. "Um, where's Cas?"
"Out. He'll be back soon." Alex brushed off the question, more curious in what news the Winchesters had to offer. "Did you find the priest? What did he say?"
"Well, uh, this demon-curing thing is looking really promising," Sam began. "Father Simon said Father Thompson kept working on that cure — Dean's pulling the record out of the archives now. If we're lucky there'll be an answer in there."
"Hopefully," Alex agreed. "The sooner we cure a demon or whatnot, the sooner you'll be back on your feet. Right, Sam?" The Winchester didn't immediately respond, and the angel frowned. "Sam. Right?" she pressed.
"Yeah, uh, right." Sam shook himself out of his thoughts. "I, um, I'm gonna grab a change of clothes, but, uh, Dean should be out in the library."
"I'll go find him, then." Alex stepped back and let Sam pass, frowning at his slow and unsteady steps. She watched until he disappeared into his room before she finally turned and made her way into the library. She found the eldest Winchester standing there, pawing through a brown box, and she cleared her throat to draw his attention onto her. "Hey. Heard your trip was successful."
"In a way, yeah." Dean paused, waiting for something, but when nothing came, he asked, "Where's Cas? He blow town again?" The Winchester's voice grew scornful as he added, "Sounds like him."
Alex's wings flared up in offense, and she stalked into the room. "That's not what's going on here," she snapped. "What's your fucking problem, man? Cas did what was best, which was to keep the angel tablet out of your grubby hands. You have no right to read what's on it!"
Dean slammed his hand down on the table. "My problem is that you didn't trust us," he yelled. "Instead, you just left, and look where that got us! Now Crowley has the angel tablet, and we could have prevented all of it had you just trusted me! We're three steps away from closing from down hell for good. We don't need any distractions, and we sure as hell don't need you guys suddenly going AWOL!" His green eyes flashed with fire, and Alex looked away, unable to hold his gaze.
Footsteps announced Sam's arrival, and Alex slunk over to stand behind him. The younger Winchester must have heard their fight, but he didn't comment on it. "Find anything?" he asked instead, and Dean turned his attention back onto the brown box.
"So it turns out that, uh, Father Thompson recorded all of his demon-cure tests," he explained curtly. "This one here?" He held out a reel of film. "This was the last one — two days before he died."
Sam stepped forward to take it. "Huh." He moved off down towards the war room table where an old reel to reel lay from a few days before. He threaded it up and flipped the switch, and Alex sat down next to Sam, making sure to stay on the far side from Dean.
"The date is August 3rd, 1958," a voice began, filling the room, and Alex settled into her seat. "This is trial nineteen, hour one. My subject is Peter Kent. Mr. Kent is the father of two young sons, and three weeks ago, he was possessed by a demon. I'm going to ask you a question now. When you crawled into Mr. Kent and ate his children, how did it feel?"
A voice answered, low and rough and inhuman in comparison. "Orgasmic," it snarled, but it cut off with second later in a groan of pain.
"The first dose has been administered, " Father Thompson reported, and Alex tipped her head, confused.
"Do we know what padre was dosing number one dad up with?" Dean asked, motioning towards the recording as he reclined back in his chair.
Sam flipped through the notes that accompanied the recording and nodded. "Uh, yeah, his own purified blood," he read.
"Purified?" Alex repeated. "Purified how?"
Sam's fingers traced the page as he skimmed for the answer. "Before he started, Father Thompson went to confession."
The recording clicked, signaling a splice in the film, and a second later Father Thompson's voice returned. "This is trial nineteen, hour two," the priest reported, and Alex's wings twitched as she picked up the sounds of the demon in the background. "When you ate your children …" he repeated, "how did it feel?"
"Stringy — aah!" The demon let out another sharp cry of pain, and he hissed as it slowly faded away.
Father Thompson's voice grew louder as he approached the microphone he was using. "The second dose has been administered."
The recording kept going, reporting hour after hour. Hour four, five, six and seven. Each time the same question was asked, and a dose was administered. And as the hours passed, the demon slowly began to change. It was subtle at first; Alex could hear a difference in tone, so slight she wondered if she imagined it. But by the sixth hour the demon had begun to break. "Stop," he had begged. "Please."
"Hour eight, the subject is prepped." Father Thompson sounded weary, exhausted from this trial almost as much as his test subject. The demon could be heard in the background, its noises of pain drowned out by the priest's words. "Exorcismus the, omnis immundus spiritus," he began, and Alex sat up in her chair at the exorcism. "Hanc animam redintegra, lustra! Lustra!" He demon let out a muffled cry, and then all fell silent. "When you ate his children …" Father Thompson asked, "how did it feel?"
The demon spoke. "They were screaming … and I laughed. Why did I laugh?" His voice quavered and cracked in torment. "I'm sorry — I'm so sorry. God, I … I was a monster."
The priest's voice was soft. "But now you are a man again. And you have been saved."
The tape ended, and Alex looked up at Sam. What had they just heard? "Did he just … cure a demon?" Sam asked, the disbelief in his voice strong enough to match the angel's own feelings.
Dean was staring at the reel-to-reel. "Maybe," he slowly admitted, and Sam let out a soft breath. "Could we take this hoodoo for a test drive?" he asked.
"Um, I mean, I have the exorcism right here." Sam tapped the notes, and he looked up as he went over the list of necessary items. "All we need is the blood, consecrated ground, and a demon."
"Or — or we use one that we've already tagged," Dean finished, and Alex let out a hum of confusion at his cryptic phrasing. "Do we still have dad's old army field surgeon kit?" Dean asked his brother.
"It's in the trunk," Sam confirmed, and hazel eyes sparkled in guarded curiosity. "Why?"
"Yeah, I think it's time we put humpty dumpty back together again." Dean slapped the table and rose to his feet, and Alex glanced over at Sam as he walked back up into the library.
The young angel leaned closer to Sam, voice dropping into a whisper. "Yeah, uh, so what's he talking about exactly?"
Sam frowned, and Alex glanced over at Dean; whatever he was planning, it certainly wasn't sounding like a good one at the moment. "Abaddon," he finally told her. "He wants to dig up Abaddon."
"What?" Alex rose to her feet, wing stretching out in disbelief. "Abaddon? Are you shitting me, Dean? We're going to cure Abaddon?"
"We," Dean corrected sharply, motioning to himself and Sam. "Not you. You're still benched."
"Are you serious?" The angel's grace flicked through the air in outrage. "Dean! You said it yourself — we're three steps away from closing the gates. You don't pull some of your only players when you're this close!" She stepped forward, and Dean's eyes flashed.
Sam moved to stand in between them, and Alex turned her head away, lips curling into a snarl. "Dean, she's right," Sam insisted. "So whatever your problem is, you have to put it aside until we finish this!"
Dean didn't immediately respond, but he looked away, and Alex stretched out her wings. "Text me when you get to the warehouse," she growled out. "Until then, I'll be in my room."
...
She got the prayer a few hours later, sudden and desperate and seemingly from out of nowhere. And it certainly wasn't the prayer the young angel had been hoping that she'd get. "Alex?" Sam's desperate voice rang through her head, and Alex sat up straight, head tipping in worry. "Get here now. Abaddon's escaped."
Escaped? The young angel shoved her laptop off of her lap, and her wings carried her up into the air and towards the Winchesters. "Escaped?" she repeated as she landed in behind Sam and Dean. The brothers spun around, and the angel drew her wings in as she took in the empty chair that lay behind them. "What the fuck do you mean by escaped?"
"She dug the bullet out of her freaking mouth." Dean threw the bloodied and warped round down on the ground, and it bounced over to Alex's boot.
The angel kicked it aside. "You were supposed to call me before you reassembled her!" she yelled, stalking forward to glare up at the eldest brother. "Why didn't you? This wouldn't have fucking happened if you had just trusted me!"
"What, like you and Cas trusted us —"
"Hey hey hey! Not the time, okay?" Sam cut in sharply, and Alex bit back a sharp retort, finding a sharp glare directed at Dean Winchester sufficient for the time being. "We should have called you, okay? But right now, you need to find Abaddon, and we'll go to Prosperity, Indiana."
"Like hell I'll — wait, what?" Alex's anger suddenly disappeared at Sam's words, replaced by pure confusion, and she tipped her head. "Why Prosperity?" Her head tipped even further as she placed the town. "That — didn't we work a witch case there like, forever ago? What the hell's so important about there?"
Sam held up his phone so Alex could see his most recent text message. "It's from Crowley," the Winchester explained.
"Okay … so? Why are you dropping everything and running there?" The angel's wings twitched in utter bewilderment. "Who gives a damn what Crowley wants? If anything, it's just another fucking trap."
"Yeah, and a trap means demons," Sam retorted. "So if you can't find Abaddon, at least we have a backup plan." He shoved his phone back into his pocket. "It's only a few hours drive, okay? And it's the only thing we can do."
"Fine." Alex let out a scoff, and she pointed a finger straight at Dean. "You two are complete idiots, you know that? Call me when you find a fucking demon."
She thrust her wings down and took off into air, grace prickling with fury and worry. Why hadn't the Winchesters called her? They let — "Son of a bitch!" The angel spiraled up sharply through the clouds, and her wings snapped out, feathers puffed out as she grit her teeth. They had let Abaddon loose.
She dropped down to fly just above the treetops and started her search, grace stretching out and exploring every inch of the land below. She started in small circles, working her way around the warehouse before making progressively larger and larger circles. "Castiel?" she prayed aloud, barely able to keep the snarl from her voice. "Where are you? The Winchesters let Abaddon escape."
Who? The prayer reached her immediately, and Alex hooked a right around a tall office building before she responded.
"Abaddon," she repeated. "She's a Knight of Hell — one of the angels that lost their grace and became demons. She's strong, Castiel — the demon knife barely slowed her down. We had to trap her with a devil's trap and I ended up dismembering —" Alex swerved suddenly to avoid a radio tower, too distracted on her prayer, "— sorry — dismembering her to keep her down."
Alex. Get away from there. Where are you?
Alex pulled to a stop in mid air, wings beating to keep her up as she shook her head. "I'm nowhere near Abaddon," she promised, voice flat with barely disguised frustration. "I have fifty states to search, and I don't even know where to start. Go back to the bunker, and I'll meet you there soon, okay?"
There were a moment or two's pause before her prayer was answered. Call me if you run into any trouble.
"Of course." Alex took off through the air, black wings cutting through the spring air. "Over and out."
...
The demon died with a screech, his lifeless body hitting the concrete ground with a sickening thud. The angel in front of him drew her wing in close against her back, turning her back to the mass of twisted and burnt bodies that were strewn throughout the dark parking garage. She stalked out into the street, grey eyes flickering up to the setting sun; she had been searching for Abaddon for almost two hours, and all she had found were run of the mill demon scum.
Her wings carried her upwards and further on her path. Abaddon had felt different against her grace, but so did ten demons all at once — they felt so similar that not even she could tell them apart, and as a result, she had been forced to stop in every major city within the United States.
Alex landed gently on top of the skyscraper, reaching up to tuck back her blonde hair as wind whipped it across her face. Her hand moved down to her face, and she let out a groan of pain as she pinched the bridge of her nose. That was it. If she hadn't found the Knight of Hell by now, then she simply wasn't going to.
She extended her wings, ready to return to the bunker where Castiel would be waiting for her, but a reluctant second thought had her taking off towards Prosperity, Indiana. She hadn't heard a peep from either Winchester, and Sam had explicitly promised to let her know when they found a demon. A quick checkup wouldn't hurt to make sure they weren't dead.
She easily located their souls, not in Prosperity, but in Indianapolis, and she dropped though the motel roof to land in the middle of the room. Her wings drew in tight at the scene that greeted her. Sigils covered the windows; some were in red spray paint, but others glimmered on the walls, flickering in and out of sight like a pulsing heart. A body lay on the ground — a woman, lying in a pool of blood. Sam and Dean were near the door, heads bowed and shoulders fallen.
"What happened here?"
Her voice had the Winchesters looking up, and Alex blinked back surprise at their dull, defeated eyes. Sam looked away, too hurt to speak, but Dean's face twisted in anger. "Where were you?" he boomed, and Alex backpedaled as he surged forward. "Where the hell were you?"
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Alex's wings carried her over to Sam, and she reached up, poised to draw her weapon. "I came looking for you because you promised to pray when you found a demon, and I hadn't heard bumpkis. What happened here? And who is she?"
"Sarah Blake." Sam exchanged a forlorn look with his brother. "We, uh, saved her a long, long time ago."
"And Crowley killed her!" Dean sharply interrupted his brother. "Somehow, he has a list of people we've saved, and he's going to kill them until we give up the trials and the tablets." He stalked over to the window, his back to them, and Alex narrowed her eyes in sympathy at his crestfallen figure.
"So he must have been the ones who put the wardings up," she murmured to herself, but somehow, both Winchesters heard. "The wardings on the walls," the angel explained when all eyes turned onto her. "I doubt you can see them — they're Enochian. They must have been what kept your prayers from leaving this room, right?" She watched as the brothers once more exchanged looks, and Alex sighed. "If there's anything I can do, let me know," she finally said. "Otherwise I should get back to the bunker."
"Yeah, that's fine," Dean begrudgingly agreed, but something in his tone had Alex doubting he truly meant what he was saying. "Go."
"Dean, are you sure?" she pressed. "I can —"
"I said go!"
Alex went. She took off into the sky, leaving the two Winchesters behind as she flew towards the bunker. Dean was hurt — he was pissed. It couldn't be personal this time. She hadn't done anything wrong.
Then again, she hadn't done anything right either.
The angel dropped down into the library, shoulders hunched as she dug her teeth into her lips, fighting back tears that shouldn't have been in her eyes. She just needed a minute; that was all it was. A minute to take in the day and fight back that overwhelming pressure that was pushing on her chest. God, she hated it when Dean yelled at her.
No. Alex pushed away the thought. If she thought about it, she'd cry. And if she started, she wouldn't be able to stop. She shook out her wings, a physical attempt to shake the memories out of her mind. "This is stupid," she muttered under her breath. "I'm fine. You're fine."
"You're back." Castiel stepped into the library, navy blue wings stretching outwards as he met her gaze. "I thought I felt your grace."
"Yeah, it's me. H-How was your day? You …" Alex trailed off, lips lifting into a small smile as her voice failed.
Castiel must have seen the way her jaw trembled, because his face softened with sympathy. "Something happened." He crossed the room, wings extending out, and Alex stepped into his embrace, pressing her face into his neck. Wings enveloped her, holding her close, and the young angel squeezed her eyes shut as Castiel's grace curled around hers. "It's okay," the seraph murmured, and his hands rubbed gentle circles into her back as Alex trembled. "You're okay."
"I'm fine," Alex lied through a tight throat.
Castiel's wings flapped twice, and Alex felt the air shift around them. The seraph stepped backwards, and Alex's grace trailed after him, wishing he was close once again. "You should sit," he instructed, motioning down to the brown couch before he sat down himself.
Alex crawled into his lap, pulling her wings in tight as she once more burrowed her face into his chest. She felt the seraph's surprise, but he said nothing, and his arms came to rest around her waist.
Several seconds of quiet passed until Castiel prompted, "What happened? Did you find Abaddon? Where are Sam and Dean?"
"I didn't find her." Alex sniffled, and her voice was muffled by her mate's trench coat as she shifted closer to him. "Sam a-and … Dean … they're in Indianapolis. Crowley's killing people they once saved until — until they give up on the trials and give him the tablets." She looked up into Castiel's blue eyes, watching the concern that flickered within them until she couldn't bring herself to look anymore. "Dean hates me," she finally said, eyes downcast. "He …"
She curled back up into Castiel's chest, shaking her head as she trailed off, and Castiel's hand moved to the base of her wings, stroking her soft feathers. "I've noticed that Dean often gets … ill-tempered when he's stressed," the seraph eventually responded. "I doubt his anger was anything personal."
"It wasn't," Alex agreed softly — that was something she had known herself, but that knowledge didn't seem to lessen the pain. "A-At least Sam's still kind to me," she added under her breath, but before Castiel could reply, she sat up, hands going up to brush away the tears. "What, uh, what did Metatron want?"
It was Castiel's turn to seem hesitant, and Alex flicked a wingtip against his chest when the silence dragged on. "He wants to close heaven's gates," the seraph finally said. "Just like how Sam and Dean are going to close the gates to hell."
What? Alex looked down at him in stunned silence, trying to wrap her mind around what Castiel had just said. "What?" she ultimately vocalized. "Why?"
"Heaven is divided and at war," Castiel reminded. "Closing the gates — it will keep the fighting from spilling down to earth, at least until they can work out their differences." His hand came up to rest against her cheek, and Alex leaned into his touch. "This is my fault; I should be the one to fix it."
"By shutting the gates … that will draw all of the angels back unto heaven?" She blinked, confused by what Castiel was trying to say.
The seraph nodded. "Yes. And I don't know how long we will have to stay there, but …" His grace rested against hers. "If this is something you don't want, then I won't do it."
"I never said I didn't want it," Alex retorted lightly. "You're right, Cas. Closing heaven's gates - it's the best thing we can do. With heaven and hell closed, earth will be safe again. Plus," she added, finger toying with one of the large buttons on his coat, "going back to heaven, starting a new life — that's what we wanted, right?"
"It is," Castiel agreed. "And you … you want this as well?"
"Yeah." Alex pressed a gentle kiss on his lips. "I've had enough of this life, Cas. I'm tired of the fighting and the death. Sure, I'm going to miss earth, Sam and — and Dean, but I'd rather be with you." She moved so she was straddling his thighs, a small smile on her face as she looked down at Castiel. "You're my mate. And I actually want to be yours." She dropped her gaze when Castiel's wings twitched with careful curiosity. "I just … we've waited long enough."
A warm hand lifted up her chin, and Alex felt her face flush. "I promised you a long time ago that I would never push you until you were ready," Castiel murmured. "But if you're sure this is what you want …"
"Yeah, I, uh, I've been sure for a while now." The young angel out a small smile, and she added, "And now that we're going home … it just feels right." She leaned down to kiss him, and Castiel's wings folded across her back as his hands came up to cup her face.
"And what about the Winchesters?" Castiel pulled back slightly, and his head tipped when Alex scoffed teasingly.
"Why?" she laughed, and her eyes sparkled with mirth as she added, "You want them to join in? They're eight hours away," she promised when Castiel's head tipped even further. "They won't be here anytime soon." She ran a hand through his hair, watching how the strands stick up in every which way. "So don't worry."
"I wasn't worrying," the seraph rumbled, and he reached up to smooth down her hair. His wings flicked against her neck in retaliation. "I was only curious." He reached up to catch her wrist when Alex reached for his hair again. "Why do you keep doing that?"
"I like it." Alex let out a small smile, and she leaned down to press her lips up against his. "And I like you." She rose to her feet, wings dropping low as she held out her hands. "Come on. Bedroom."