She was alone. The street was dark, lit only by the occasional streetlight, and snowflakes fell through the cold winter air, covering the ground. The young girl pulled her thin jacket tighter around her body, suppressing a shiver. She hated life, and she hated living like she did. They had fought again, and now she had been thrown out of the house for the night as punishment. She kicked at a loose stone, sending it clattering down the street. Stupid foster family. Like they gave a damn about her.

Suddenly there was light. A bright, blinding light that was gone as soon as it had appeared. Darkness surrounded the young girl as the ground vanished from beneath her feet, and the next thing she knew, she was falling.

...

May 31st, 2014
Rexford, Idaho

Alex followed Castiel off of the bus, coughing as it sped away in a cloud of dust and smoke. The thin, sparse clouds did little to hide the summer sun, and the ex-angel uncomfortably adjusted the shoulder straps of her bag. The bus had dropped them off at a small town just north of Idaho Falls, and for the first time in a while, the young girl was ready to quit traveling.

She glanced up at her companion out of the corner of her eye; he was walking down the street, completely oblivious to her gaze upon him. Two days had passed since they left the bunker back in Lebanon, Kansas, and since then the two hadn't spoken a word about ... it.

I know who you really are. Castiel's words echoed through her head, and Alex briefly closed her eyes at the memory. Her cheeks flushed, and as her embarrassment grew, she gave a quick cough to distract herself from her thoughts.

"Are you okay?" Castiel looked over at her in concern, and Alex blinked in surprise.

"I'm fine," she quickly promised. Her eyes drifted upwards to one of the shop signs, and she read, " 'Rexford, Idaho.' Seems like a nice little town." Her gaze continued up towards the sky; the sun, though still high above them, was beginning to stretch towards its horizon. "What do you say we find a place to spend the night? I have a credit card or two that should work."

"That's a good idea." Castiel paused on the street corner, peering both ways in search of a place to stay. "I can feel that I'm getting tired again, although for having sat on a bus all day, I'm not sure why."

"Because human bodies are stupid." Alex led the way down the street to an old-fashioned motel. "Take them on a ride, and they're convinced they ran the distance themselves." She pushed her way through the front door of the office, not bothering to stop and explain herself to the confused ex-seraph behind her; it wasn't worth it.

She quickly rented one room for the night, and, after thanking the woman behind the desk and taking the key in hand, led Castiel down to their room. The accommodations weren't bad; having travelled with hunters, Alex had had much worse. "Alright." She dropped her bag onto the only bed before turning her gaze to the maroon walls. "See, this isn't that bad. Better than sleeping another night on the bus, huh?"

Castiel gave a small nod. "Much." He looked down at his dirty green t-shirt that he had acquired during his time away from the bunker, and after a second, he pulled it off. "Do you have another shirt that would fit me? This one is getting dirty."

Alex didn't respond. Her eyes had dropped to his bare skin, where Enochian was scrawled in big, bold letters on his side. "Oh, Cas." She moved closer, a hand going forward to trace over the black-inked tattoo, and her voice grew soft; what danger had he faced that he needed such a mark. "What did you do?"

"It's okay." Castiel's hand went down to cover hers. "It didn't hurt for long. And now I'm warded against angels. So are you," he added, and his hand moved up to rest against her lower ribs. "Now we're both safe." He leaned forward, hesitation in his eyes, and Alex awkwardly turned her head away. Silence clung to the air, and eventually the ex-seraph pulled away and cleared his throat. "If it's alright with you, I'm going to take a shower. It's been a long day."

Castiel disappeared into the bathroom, and Alex reluctantly returned to the bed. After a moment or two, she heard the water start, and she reached over to flip on the small tv that sat in the corner.

I know who you really are.

The shock that had followed those words had shaken her to the core. Alex barely even remembered leaving the bunker in a stupefied haze. All she knew was that Dean hadn't been there when they had finally left and made their way down the dusty road towards the nearest bus stop.

She looked over at her phone, which lay at her side on the white comforter. Since their departure, she hadn't heard a word from Dean; Sam, however had called her thrice. He clearly had had no idea of Dean's actions, and his voicemails had been full of offers to pick them up. Alex had been tempted to accept his proposition, but Castiel's deep concern about Crowley and the angels had reluctantly forced her to decline.

The water stopped, and the ex-angel looked up in surprise. "You okay?" She raised her voice so it could be heard through the door, which, after a moment, opened to reveal Castiel.

Confusion flitted through his blue eyes, and he brushed back his damp hair. "Yes," came the slow answer. "Why wouldn't I be?" Water droplets beaded around his bare collarbone, and he wiped away with a towel.

Alex glanced over at the clock; she had been submerged in her thoughts longer than she had thought. "Never mind." She shook her head, and Castiel approached. "Listen, Cas … I'm sorry. I know this is causing problems between us, and I — I just have to ask … how did you find out?" Castiel's eyes darkened, and she winced internally. "We just, we just need to talk about this."

Silence followed her question, and she kept her eyes averted as she listened to Castiel pause beside their bag. Clothes rustled, and she heard him pull on a shirt before he finally opened his mouth to speak. "You mean about your past."

"Yeah."

The bed dipped as Castiel sat down upon it, and Alex reluctantly lifted her eyes. "Ev —"

"Don't. Don't … say my name." Alex flinched at the sharpness in her voice. "Please," she added much more quietly. "There's a reason I stopped using it, Castiel."

Cas fell silent for several seconds, contemplation dancing in his eyes. "It's a very beautiful name," he finally said. "You have nothing to be ashamed of." Alex turned her head away, and after another pause, the angel continued. "I know who you are because you were born on this earth on January 19th, 1996. And you died December 15th, 2013."

Died?

Alex stared at Castiel, her mouth agape. "W-What?" she stuttered out. "No, that's not possible." She had been walking down the street through the dark and the snow, and the last thing she remembered was a flash of light — how could she have —

"You were struck by a oncoming semi." Castiel's head tilted as he studied her, but Alex was too stunned to hear the sympathy that softened his voice. "You wouldn't have remembered much; death would have been instantaneous."

Alex closed her eyes, focusing on the memory she refused to dwell on for so many years. It all seemed a blur, a series of motions that all took place simultaneously, but the harder she focused, the more times she played it again and again and again, the more each individual details began to fall into place.

She was standing in the snow, her frostbitten fingers buried deeply within her sweatshirt. The snow covered everything, and she squinted, trying to peer into the darkness that lay behind the glow of the streetlight.

The light appeared, and she screwed up her eyes against it. It only lasted a second before it was upon her, but before the darkness overtook the girl, the dark outline of the massive truck before her took shape. The light was from two bright headlights, and the roar of its engine could be heard from beneath the howling wind. It was upon her before she could move, before she could react. Then came the darkness. No pain, no nothing. Just darkness.

Alex's eyes flew open as she let out a breathless noise, and Castiel's hand came to rest softly on top of hers. Her jaw trembled as she searched for words, but none seemed to come. "How?" she finally whispered. "How? I — no. No, Cas, I, I — I knew. This wasn't real, it was a show — That's not right!"

The hand on hers squeezed tightly. "Your soul went to Sheol." Castiel shifted closer, his voice lowering into a murmur.

Alex looked up into his eyes; she was only able to hold his gaze for a mere second before she scoffed and turned away. "I've never heard of it."

"Sheol is for those who in life were neither good nor bad, but not much else is known — neither angel nor demon can enter. All we know is that souls go in there, and after a period of time are sent to their final destination in either heaven or hell."

"But the — the show …" Alex leaned into Castiel's shoulder; her eyes stung with tears of confusion and fear. "How did I … how did I know things?"

Castiel's hand came up to rest on her hair, and Alex leaned into the heavy, comforting pressure. "I don't know." He fell silent for several seconds, and Alex turned to bury her head into his chest. "Most souls are only there for days; yours had been there for almost six months. Any number of things could have happened."

"What … how did I end up in 2008?" Alex tipped her head up to look into Castiel's eyes, leaning into his warm, reassuring touch when his hand came up to brush away her tears.

Castiel shook his head. "Once again, I don't know. But somehow, at the exact moment Metatron cast the angels out of heaven, you were thrown back down to earth."

"Back in time six years." Alex's voice was flat with disbelief. "How the hell would that work?"

"I don't know." The words left Castiel's mouth again, equally flat with repetition before they softened. "Like I said, we know very little about Sheol. All I know is that your soul was expelled when the angels fell, and that both angels and demons alike are searching for it. Which is why we left." Castiel stood up and crossed over to the bag to retrieve his toothbrush and toothpaste. "The message was sent out to all of the angels; I was able to hear it myself. You would have been in the hospital," he added when Alex frowned. "I doubt you would have been conscious to hear it. I recognized your soul because I remembered it from six years ago."

"Wait, so can they …" Alex trailed off as Castiel shook his head.

"No. The other angels won't be able to immediately tell that the released soul is you, not after it was altered by its transition into grace. However," the ex-seraph added, "too much probing would make it obvious, and Crowley …"

Alex felt her face flush red. "You think Crowley would be able to recognize me," she finished, and her cheeks grew even hotter as she remembered the triumphant gleam in the demon's eyes.

Thankfully, Castiel didn't turn to see her discomfort. "I know he would," he said as he disappeared into the bathroom. "That's why we couldn't stay. If Crowley realized who you were, he would try to take your soul back. "

Guilt rushed through her, and Alex got to her feet and crossed the carpet to enter the bathroom behind Castiel. She wrapped her arm around his waist and pressed her head into his back, drawing in a long, deep breath. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she murmured. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I … I just — when I fell, I started a new life. That old one wasn't me anymore." She nuzzled against his shoulder blades. "I love you."

Castiel's hands came up to cover hers. "I love you, too."

...

The blaring of a horn was what startled Alex into wakefulness. Her eyes flew open in surprise, darting around the room as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings. A strong arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, and the ex-angel leaned back into Castiel. She could feel him stir as she settled back down into the mattress, and felt a momentary pang of guilt for disturbing his slumber. "Morning," she mumbled as he pressed his face into the back of her neck.

A low, wordless grunt came as an answer, and Alex rolled over onto her back with a small smile. Castiel groggily re-situated, and the ex-angel lifted her chin so his head could rest in the crook of her shoulder. It was weird to see him sleep, she mused as she stroked his dark hair. Only weeks before, sleeping would had been a symptom that something was seriously wrong. But now it was … normal.

She kissed his head, and Castiel shifted backwards so he could look her in the eyes. "Hey." Alex leaned up to press a quick kiss on his lips. "Morning, sunshine."

"Good morning." Castiel sat up, and Alex propped herself up on her elbows to glance at the clock. It was almost ten o'clock. She fell back onto her pillow with a groan and stared at the ceiling as Castiel got to his feet. "Do you ever get tired of urinating?"

Alex let out a loud laugh as the ex-seraph disappeared into the bathroom. "All the damn time," she called out after him. She sat up again just in time to see the door close, and she shook her head. "Any plans for the day?" she asked. "Traveling?" A scowl followed those words; the last thing she wanted to do was get back onto that bus.

The toilet flushed, and Castiel reappeared in the doorway. "I like this town." He crossed the room to sit back down on the bed, and Alex pulled him closer to her with a smile. "I thought we might stay here for the day."

"Mm." Alex curled up on his chest. "How about forever?" She closed her eyes as Castiel's hand came up to rest on her shoulder, keeping her steady, and she let out a groan as her stomach rumbled.

"Perhaps we should go out for breakfast." Castiel's fingers played with the hem of her shirt, the pads of his fingertips brushing up against her skin. "Then we'll decide what we should do today." Despite his plan of action, he made no move to get up, and Alex hummed out her agreement.

Only when her stomach roared again did she roll off of his stomach and onto the mattress. "Come on, get dressed. I'm super hungry." She hit him gently on the stomach to get him to move before she grabbed a change of clothes out of the duffle and moved into the bathroom.

She pulled on her jeans and a grey t-shirt, pausing when the door swung open. Castiel's arms wrapped around her waist, holding her tight. His face pressed into her neck, his breath warm against her skin, and Alex let out a small chuckle. "Can I help you?"

Castiel didn't immediately respond, and the girl frowned as the silence lengthened. "How do you do it?" The ex-seraph finally looked up, meeting her gaze in the mirror. "There's so many emotions inside of my head. How do you sort them all out?"

"Practice, mostly." Alex gave a small, unsure shrug. "Truthfully, I don't think we ever really figure them all out. We just try to live with them the best that we can. Now," she added, "and more importantly, I was thinking waffles for breakfast." Alex reached for her toothbrush, her actions slightly hindered by the man that was holding her tight. "I saw a waffle house down a couple blocks last night."

"Okay." Castiel hesitated beside her for a moment or two before he exited the bathroom, and Alex quickly dragged the bristles across her teeth until she was adequately satisfied with her hurried work.

Castiel was dressed when she reemerged, and Alex crossed over to her duffle bag to dig out whatever cash she could. There wasn't much; only a handful of change and a marked-up ten dollar bill whose upper corner had doubled as a tic-tac-toe board on their long bus ride yesterday — it had only lasted two games, due to Castiel's natural and unbeatable talent. A smile crossed her face at the memory, and Alex shoved the bill into her front pocket. "Ready?"

She held out her hand, lacing her fingers through Castiel's as she pulled open the front door and stepped outside. "It's a nice day," Castiel began politely, his head turned up towards the sky.

Alex followed his gaze, her own eyes lingering on the grey horizon that promised rain. "Yeah," she agreed. "Hopefully that storm avoids us, though. At least until we're back inside." Bored with the topic, she asked instead, "What do you think's up with Dean? He seemed a little touchy, throwing us out like that without even talking to Sam."

She tilted her head up to look at Cas, awaiting an answer. "I'm sure he has his reasons," Castiel finally said, and he fell into silence as his thoughts consumed him, and with a roll of her eyes, Alex did the same.

...

The waffle house was a small, quaint place on the corner of the main road, and despite the prime morning hours, only a few patrons occupied the wooden tables. Alex picked at the remaining few bites of her food, her stomach too full to take much more. "So I've been thinking," she eventually began. "This Sheol thing … it's weird, isn't it?" She gave a small laugh at the idea as she added, "It's just — I died, went to some soul concentration-camp, and then was thrown back to earth because future-me fucked up?" The ex-angel lowered her voice, not wanting to be overheard by the other customers. "That's just crazy, am I right?"

Castiel shrugged, and his gaze lifted from his food to meet her gaze. "I don't know, Alex. I know nothing about Sheol, or why it chose to expel you when it did, or how your body and your soul reunited six years ago. All I know is that it was your soul that fell, and that you are here right now."

Alex fell silent; his words left little room for continuing the conversation. Every time she brought it up, she was met with the same response. I don't know. "So … I guess this finally puts me in the Winchester's Resurrection Club," she finally joked, unsure what else to say. "It's about time I became one of the gang." She kicked her mate under the table with a small grin, but it faded when Castiel's face remained set in a frown.

"How's everything going? 'The arrival of their waitress kept the seraph from responding, and Alex leaned back in her seat. "Here's your check. Can I take away anything you're done with?"

"Uh, sure." Alex slide her plate over to the edge of her table. "That was great, thanks," she added as she pulled out her wallet and slid one of her credit cards into the black checkbook. "So, back to the room?" she asked Castiel as their server walked away with the plates and the card. "Or do we want to hit the road again?"

Castiel sat thoughtfully for a moment or two. "We're in no hurry," he finally decided. "We can rest today and continue traveling tomorrow."

Alex scoffed loudly. "We've been 'traveling' for two days. Where are we even going, Cas? We can't just keep running forever." She slid her fork back and forth across the table in frustration, the tines scraping against the wooden surface. "We'll have to stop one day."

The waitress returned before she had a chance to continue her thoughts, and Alex tipped her head at the frown upon their server's face. "I'm sorry," the waitress began apologetically, and she handed Alex back her credit card. "It looks like this one bounced. Do you have another way to pay?"

Alex's cheeks flushed, and she reached for her wallet. "Uh, uh, yeah — y-you can try this one." She held out the second card she had taken from the bunker, dropping her gaze to the table. "See, uh, see if this one works."

The waitress walked away, and Alex nervously fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve. "You don't have any cash on you, do you?" she asked Castiel in a small voice.

The ex-seraph shook his head, and Alex sunk down in her seat as the waitress returned to their table. "Did it work?" Alex asked, even though the look on her face made the answer clear.

"Do you have another card I could try?"

Alex reached into her pocket to pull out her ten dollar bill. "I have this," she admitted. "But … that's all we've got left." She set it down on the table and dropped her gaze.

The silence that followed seem to drag on forever. "I'll go talk to my manager," the waitress finally said, and she turned to go.

She paused, glancing back to say something else, but the call of "Margaret!" from an older gentleman who sat across the room had her leaving.

Alex gently kicked Castiel under the table, drawing his attention onto her as she bit her lip. "At least we got to eat before we paid," she tried to joke, but it fell flat, and she turned her gaze towards the door. "Well, we could … run for it."

The idea was cut short, however, when the waitress returned. "You two can go." She picked up the checkbook and tucked it inside her black apron. "One of the patrons offered to pay for your meal." She placed two mints down on the table and stepped back to walk away.

"Wait!" Alex picked up the ten dollar bill and held it out. "Please. Give this to whoever picked up the bill — it's the least we can do in thanks." She shook the money until the waitress took it, and once she had walked away, Alex slid out of the booth. "Come on." She grabbed the mints and waved Castiel after her. "Let's get out of here before anything else happens."

Castiel rose to his feet, and Alex fell in step behind him as they exited the diner and made their way back towards their room.

...

There was a knock on the door, and Alex looked up in surprise. She exchanged a cautious look with Cas; no one knew they were there, and angels and demons wouldn't bother to knock. She rose to her feet and reached for her handgun that lay on top of her things. "Hello?" she called warily, tucking her weapon in the waistband of her pants. She peered through the fisheye to see a dark-skinned woman standing there.

"Hello?" the woman called back. "Motel management."

Alex hesitantly unlocked the door and pulled it open; Castiel rose to his feet behind her, and she cast him a quick glance before forcing herself to appear relaxed. "How can I help you?"

"Maxine Wallace?"

"It's just Max." The lie came instinctively, and Alex leaned against the open door, obscuring the woman's view into the room behind her. "And yeah, that's me. Who are you?"

"Your credit card bounced when we tried to charge you for the room tonight." The woman's dark eyes peered over her to look Castiel up and down. "Unless you have more money, we're going to have to ask you to leave so that another family can have this room."

"But it's nine o'clock at night!" Alex looked back at Castiel; the ex-seraph's face was expressionless. She felt her cheeks burn red with embarrassment, and when she turned back, she kept her gaze on the ground. "Just — just give us a minute. We'll pack our things," she stuttered out. She closed the door behind her, and turned back to Castiel. "O-Our credit card bounced," she repeated lamely.

"I heard." The ex-seraph's voice was quiet, and his eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch. "That's a bad thing, right?"

"It means we have no money." Alex stuck her hands into her back pockets. "That was the only card I had on me. I can get another one, but it'll take at least a week for it to get approved and sent to us …" She shook her head as words failed her. "Maybe we should call Dean."

"I doubt he would appreciate it." Castiel looked down at the duffle bag that lay beside the floor. "We'll be fine on our own. I lived without money my first week of being human, after all." He picked up one of his t-shirts and placed it inside the bag.

"Yeah." Alex locked the door and walked over to him. "I, well, I never was homeless, but I used to run away for a few days from my foster parents." She let her eyes fall down onto the carpet.

Arms wrapped around her, and Alex leaned into Castiel's tight embrace. "It's okay." His voice was low and soft, and Alex pressed her face into his chest.

She shoved her belongings into her duffle bag and tossed the motel keys onto the table, eyes turned downwards as Castiel opened the door. She followed him out of the room and down into the street, and her gaze turned upwards towards the sky. The weather had taken a turn for the worse over the course of the day; the moon was hidden behind dark, gloomy clouds, and condensation swept alongside a cold, violent breeze. Alex grasped Castiel's hand tightly as she followed him down the sidewalk. "Where are we going?" she asked. "I think it's going to rain soon."

Castiel paused momentarily. "We'll find somewhere," he promised. "When I was on my own, I found that most shelters were willing to take me in." His gaze turned across the street to where the steeple of a church could be seen on the horizon, and he squeezed Alex's hand. "We can start there at the church, if you like. Perhaps they can point us in the right direction."

Alex paused, unsure how she felt about that idea. "You mean, like a homeless shelter." The words felt heavy on her tongue, and her cheeks flushed at the idea. She wanted to point out how they weren't homeless, but she couldn't bring herself to utter that phrase without facing the truth. They had no money, no shelter. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure."

As he spoke, the sky opened up with a crack of thunder. Alex shrieked softly in surprise at the cold droplets, and she quickly shoved her phone deep into her pocket to try and protect it from the storm. A tug on her hand from Castiel had her following him across the street and down the block, but her shoes were soaked by the time that they reached the corner. "This is crazy!" she called out to her mate as wind ripped down the avenue. "Damn near apocalyptic."

If Castiel heard her, he gave no response. "Come on." He dropped her hand as he led the way up the front stairs of the church, his dark hair plastered to his scalp. He turned back down to Alex, who hadn't moved, and empathetically motioned her forward. "We can at least stay here until the storm passes."

With a hesitating nod, she followed him up the concrete stairs and into the building. They passed through the vestibule and into the sanctuary, and Alex's eyes turned upwards to the stained glass windows; despite the rain, their colors stood out against the sky. A bolt of lightning cut through the clouds, and for a brief moment, the room flashed with a rainbow of colors, illuminating a large, wooden crucifix hung suspended behind the pulpit. "It's nice." The girl ran her fingers over the top of a pew. "I've always liked old churches. They've always felt ... beautiful."

"Thank you." A voice came from the front of the church, and Alex spun around in surprise. A man stood in a doorway off to the side, his hands folded in front of him. The light from the room behind him shone through his white hair, giving it a halo-like glow, and the wrinkles in his face grew pronounced as he smiled at them. "It's not often we get visitors at this hour, much less on a Tuesday night. Can I help you with something?"

Heat rose in her cheeks, but before Alex could respond, Castiel spoke up. "I hope you don't mind. We're taking shelter from the storm."

"It's coming down pretty good out there," Alex added quietly, and she brushed back her wet hair to emphasize her point.

"It sounds like it. I could hear it from my office." The man approached. "You two must be from out of town; I don't think I've seen you around, and in a town like this ..." His hands went out, motioning to everything around him, leaving the rest unsaid. "So, where are you from?"

Alex felt Castiel's eyes on her, and she took it as her cue to answer, "Oh, here and there. Little bit of everywhere, I suppose."

"So you're just passing through, then. Where are you staying?" The man looked up as thunder shook the church. "I'll be leaving soon if you need a ride."

Alex glanced at Castiel. "We, um … well, we were staying at the motel across town, but …" She shook her head, trailing off before starting again. "We'll just stay here until the rain stops."

The older man frowned. "Well, I can't let you stay here unsupervised — legal reasons, you know — however," he added when Alex's face fell, "you're welcome to come home with me. I usually rent out the top floor of my house, but it's vacant at the moment. The two you can stay as long as you like." He stretched out a hand. "My name is Greg. Greg Paske."

"I'm Steve." Castiel reached out to shake Greg's hand. "This is … Maxine." He paused to let Alex quietly add, "Max," under her breath before he nodded. "Thank you. That's very kind of you to offer, but we don't want to intrude …"

"No, no, don't you worry." Greg firmly shook his head. "I insist." A smile creased his face, and he added, "You won't be the first I've had stay the night, and you won't be the last. Let me go grab my things, and I'll drive us over there."

Alex leaned her head up against Castiel's shoulder as Greg walked away. "He seems nice," she murmured when he was out of earshot. "Are we going to trust him?"

She looked up into the ex-seraph's blue eyes, but they showed no sign of suspicion or distrust. "This is holy ground; no demon can enter. And if he was possessed by an angel, they would have no reason to conceal their identity. I believe we can trust his help."

"And if not?"

"Then we'll take care of him." Castiel's hand squeezed hers tightly, a quick yet comforting gesture.

He fell silent as Greg returned, a jacket pulled over his button-down and keys in hand. "Ready? My car is just in the side lot." He motioned them to the side of the sanctuary and through a door. Alex followed closely behind Castiel, eyes carefully taking in how the solemn, beautiful sanctuary ended and became a warm, welcoming common area, complete with couches and a darkened cafe. The howling wind couldn't penetrate the walls, but the pounding rain could easily be seen through the tinted glass doors.

Greg led the way outside, and Alex screwed up her eyes against the rain. They were sheltered from the downfall by a metal canopy, but the wind still carried cold, stinging droplets into her face. "Come on!" The old preacher sprinted towards a blue sedan, and Cas and Alex had no choice to follow. They were soaked within seconds, and Alex threw open the back door and jumped inside. Brushing her wet hair out of her eyes let her see Greg and Castiel in the front seat. The car purred to life, and warm air slowly flowed through the vents. "There we go." Greg backed the car out of the lot, and his gaze met Alex's in the rearview mirror. "So. Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself? Why'd you stop in Rexford?"

Alex gave a small shrug. "Luck, I guess. It was getting late, and we didn't want to sleep on the bus again. What about you? How long have you lived here?"

Greg let out a small chuckle. "I was born and raised just two miles from here. The only time I left was back in 1964. I was a wayward son." The pastor's voice grew reminiscent. "My family was blue-blooded Catholic, but that wasn't for me. So I moved to Seattle and lived there for almost ten years." He laughed, as if an unspoken joke lay behind his words. "Long story short, I re-joined the fold, enrolled in seminary, and moved back home. St. Mark's has been my church ever since. Either of you religious?"

"It's … complicated," came Castiel's slow response. "I'm no longer sure what I believe."

"Understandable." Greg pulled the car to a stop at a red light, pausing only momentarily before he slowly made a right hand turn. "Just when you think you have everything figured out, the rug's pulled out from under you and you realize you know nothing. Ah. Here we are." The car turned into a driveway, and the pastor slid it into park. "The downstairs is cut off from the upstairs, so you'll have complete privacy." A clap of thunder echoed through the sky as Greg pulled a bronze key off of his keychain. "This will get you in. The door's up there." He pointed to their lift where concrete stairs led up a steep hill to a front door.

"Thank you so much." Alex undid her seatbelt and grabbed her bag, bracing herself to face the storm outside. "We don't stay long, I promise."

"Nonsense." Greg handed the key to Castiel. "You and Steve can stay as long as you want. Ah. I have one more thing for you." He reached back into his pockets, and when he pulled them out, he had something in his closed fist. "I believe this is yours."

He extended his hand to Alex, and she took the folded ten dollar bill from his hand. There, in the corner, was a tic tac toe sketched in blue ink. "How did you …?" Alex's eyes went wide at the sight.

"I happened to be in the right place at the right time." Greg's blue eyes sparkled in amusement. "And it seems God has brought our paths to cross again." He turned off the car. "Now, go on. Get inside before the two of you catch cold. We can talk more in the morning." He threw open his door and hurried towards his door, and Alex and Castiel did the same.

Alex's feet carried her up the concrete steps, and she paused at the top as Castiel stooped to fit the key into the lock. "Greg!" she called out, and the pastor looked up from his shelter under the garage. She gave him a small wave, and her hands came up to cup her mouth as she shouted over the wind. "Thank you."

Any words of response that were uttered were lost beneath the storm, and the man disappeared from view as Castiel tugged her into the warm, dry shelter of the home.