They quickly packed, and were back out on the road within the next half hour. They stopped for dinner before leaving town, and then continued straight towards South Dakota. Alex had almost fallen asleep in the backseat when one of Dean's ringtones filled the car. Sam answered it. "It's a text from Chuck."
"What does he want?" Dean asked, not really seeming to care.
"It says, 'Get here now. Life or Death.' Then it gives an address." Sam sounded concerned.
"Where?" Dean checked the clock. 10:59.
"Vermillion, Ohio."
"What?" Dean exclaimed. "We drove through there six hours ago!" He sighed angrily. "Should we turn around?"
"He says it's life or death."
Dean sharply turned the wheel, and the Impala spun in a U-turn. "Let's go."
...
The drove the whole night. None of the three got any sleep. Finally, at 6:00 in the morning, they pulled into a motel two miles west of Vermillion. Dean checked them in, and they stumbled tiredly into their rooms. Sam laid down in one bed, and Dean collapsed on the other. Alex lay down next to Dean, too tired to care what he would think. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was asleep.
...
January 22nd, 2010
Vermillion, Ohio
She woke up when Dean shifted. She lifted her head. The amount of sunlight flooding through the window told her it was early afternoon. She looked behind her. She had her back pressed up against Dean's. She lay back down, feeling comforted by his presence next to her. She had just gotten re-comfortable when Dean shifted again, this time more. Alex protested quietly when he rolled onto his back. Alex pulled herself into a sitting position, looking down at the hunter. "Should we wake Sammy?"she asked quietly, studying Dean's green eyes. He glanced at the clock, sitting straight up. It was almost 2:00.
"Yeah, shit. We gotta go." Dean shook Sam away. "Come on, man. Nap time's over."
Sam groggily pulled himself out of his bed, put on his shoes, and followed Dean out of the room. Dean started the car, and they drove off towards the Pineview Hotel. "Come on!" he yelled as they hit a red light. "We're in a hurry!" Alex could feel the tension fill the car.
...
Finally, Dean pulled the car into a parking space and all three jumped out of the car, running towards the hotel entrance. Suddenly Dean stopped, and Alex halted as well. She turned to see what Dean was looking at, and a small smile filled her face. The entire parking lot was filled with Chevy Impalas. "Hey, come on," they heard Sam call. They exchanged a look, and broke into a sprint to catch up with the other hunter.
Near the entrance, Alex saw Chuck Shurley, pacing nervously back and forth.
"Chuck!" Sam called, stopping by the author. "There you are."
"Guys?" Chuck turned to them, surprised. His gaze flickered from Dean, down to Alex, then back to Sam.
"What's going on?" Dean asked, slightly out of breath.
"Ah, nothing. You know. I'm just . . . kinda hanging. What are you guys doing here?"
"You told us to come."
"Uh, no I didn't." Chuck looked very confused.
"Yeah, you did. You texted me. This address, life or death situation? Any of this ringing a bell?"
"I didn't send you a text," the prophet repeated.
"We drove all night!" Dean snapped angrily.
"I'm sorry!" Chuck apologized. "I don't know what could . . . oh no." Realization crossed his face.
"What?" Alex looked at Chuck. He said something under his breath.
"Sam!" Alex looked up to hear a familiar squeal. She rolled her eyes as she recognized who it came from. Becky, Sam's 'biggest fan'. "You made it!"
"Oh, ah, Becky, right?" Sam looked over at Dean.
Becky ran down the stairs. "Oh! You remembered!" She lowered her voice. "You've been thinking about me." Dean rolled his eyes.
Sam looked around, confused. "I . . ." he began to protest.
"It's okay." Becky cut him off. "I can't get you out of my head either." Alex bit her lip, trying to hold back laughter. Dean kicked her with his foot, and Alex looked up at him. He didn't share her amusement.
"Becky," Chuck asked slowly, "did you take my phone?"
"I just borrowed it. From your pants," Becky insisted.
"Becky . . ." Chuck looked thoroughly embarrassed.
"What? They're going to want to see it.".
"See what?" Both Sam and Dean asked at the same time.
"Oh. My. God. I love it when they talk at the same time." Becky looked like she could barely contain her excitement.
"Yeah, yeah," Alex agreed sarcastically. "It's adorable." She racked her brain, trying to figure out what was happening. Oh. A wide grin broke across her face. She turned to Chuck. "Is this . . ."
"Yeah." Chuck grimaced.
"Hey, Chuck?" A man opened the doors. "Come on pal, it's showtime." Becky ran up the stairs and into the hotel without a second thought.
Chuck sighed. "Guys, I'm sorry. For everything." He followed Becky.
Sam and Dean exchanged a confused glance. Alex started up the stairs. "You guys coming?"
"What's going on?" Dean asked.
"Something you're never going to forget," Alex promised. Sam and Dean followed.
...
They entered the hotel, which was unusually crowded. A man walked by, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket like the one Dean was wearing. He even had an amulet that looked just like Dean's around his neck. He laughed. "Hey, Dean. Looking good."
"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked, extremely confused.
The man looked at Dean like he was stupid. "I'm Dean, too. Duh." He rolled his eyes before walking away.
Dean looked at Sam, then down at Alex. "What. The. Hell."
A man dressed in a scarecrow costume approached, a can in one hand, a scythe in the other. "Uh-oh," he said jokingly. "It's Sam and Dean. I'm in trouble now." He laughed and walked away, waving his scythe in Sam's face.
"What." Dean turned to Sam, his face blank with shock.
"Becky, what is this?" Sam asked slowly.
"It's awesome!" She exclaimed. "A Supernatural convention: the first ever!" A large smile crossed her face.
Alex scanned the room. She spotted several tables full of Supernatural items: mugs, books, even shirts. She smiled, and wandered over to it. "Hey, Dean-o," she joked, holding up a black shirt with white lettering, "got salt?" She laughed. "This is amazing. Can I get one?" She studied the other things. Dean glared at her. "Ooh." Alex held up another black shirt; this one had the anti-possession symbol printed in white. "Think it'll work?"
Dean and Sam slowly approached, both frowning slightly. Alex picked up one of the books: No Rest for the Wicked. She flipped through the pages. "Am I in here?" she wondered aloud, even though she full well knew the answer. "Ah, yes. There I am." She scanned the pages. A light tug on her arm turned her attention to Dean. She put the book down and followed them into a large room with a stage and chairs, half of which were filled.
A man was standing on the stage, and Alex assumed him to be the manager. "Welcome to the first annual Supernatural convention," he drawled. "At 3:45 in the Magnolia room we have the panel, 'Frightened little boy, the secret life of Dean'."
Alex snickered quietly.
"And at 4:30 there is the 'Homoerotic subtext of Supernatural'," the manager continued.
Alex looked up to see their faces, letting out a full laugh. Sam pulled his 'bitch face', giving Alex a rather rough shove, sending her to the ground. Alex made no attempt to get up. She just lay there, laughing.
"And of course, the big hunt starts at 7 o'clock sharp." The crowd applauded. Alex got to her feet, circling around to stand beside Dean. "But right now, right now I'd like to introduce the man himself. The creator, the writer of the Supernatural books. The one. The only. Mr. Carver Edlund!" The crowd cheered.
Alex clapped, nudging for Dean to to the same. He didn't. Chuck walked on stage, looking nervous. His eyes met Alex, and she gave him a supporting smile.
Chuck approached the microphone. He reached up to hold it, and it screeched. He pulled back. "Oh, good." He said quietly. "This isn't nearly as awkward as I . . ." He trailed off, clearing his throat several times. "Dry mouth," he apologized. He looked around, grabbing a water bottle off of the table to his left. As they watched, he drank nearly half the bottle in one gulp. The crowd murmured quietly, and Alex shifted in impatience. Finally Chuck turned back to the mic. "Ok, um," he cleared this throat one more time, "I guess . . . any questions." Almost everyone's hand shot up. Chuck looked surprised. "Uh, you?"
A skinny man in the front row jumped up. "Hey, Mr. Edlund, big fan. I was just wondering, where did you come up with Sam and Dean in the first place?"
Chuck looked back at Sam and Dean. Alex looked over at them. They cocked their heads to one side. "Uh, ah, I . . . they just came to me," Chuck stammered out. Alex heard Dean let out a huff. More hands shot up. "Uh, hook man." Chuck chose.
"Ah, yeah." The man had a heavy German accent. "Why in every fight scene, Sam and Dean are having their gun or knife knocked away by the bad guy? Why don't they keep them on some sort of bungee?"
Alex snickered again. Sam tilted his head. "I, yeah . . . I really don't know," Chuck admitted.
"Ja, follow up. Why can't Dean and Sam be telling that Ruby is evil? I mean, she is clearly manipulating Sam into some kind of moral lapse. It's obvious, nein?"
Alex let out a low whistle. Both Sam and Dean looked deeply offended. "Hey!" Becky stomped down the isle, clearly angry. "If you don't like the books, don't read 'em, Fritz!"
"Ok, okay. Just okay, it's okay." Chuck held out a hand, trying to dispense the tension. "So, next question. You."
"Yeah." A man stood up. "At the end of the last book, Dean goes to hell. So, what happens next?"
"Well, there lies an announcement, a-actually. You're all going to find out." Alex grinned. "Thanks to a wealthy Scandinavian investor, we're going to start publishing again." His last few words were drowned out by cheers. Everyone stood up and applauded. Alex looked up to see shock on the two hunters' faces.
Eventually the audience settled back down. "Any more questions?" More hands. "Yeah, you."
"In the last book, you introduced the character Alex." A tall man got up. "She said she knew Sam and Dean's future. What's up with that?"
"Well," Chuck began, looking nervously at Alex. She shrugged, waiting for his response. "She does know their future . . ."
"But she still let Dean go to hell," another man chimed in. "So is she bad?"
Alex pulled an offended face. "No, no." Chuck said quickly. "She's not-"
"Is she a demon?"
A demon? Alex glared at the man, crossing her arms. Dean glanced down at her. "No, no. She's, she's not a demon." Chuck avoided Alex's eyes.
"You can dish it out, but you can't take it, hmm?" Dean whispered, slightly amused.
"Shut up. This is fun. But a demon?" She cocked an eyebrow, looking up at the hunter. "Seriously? Is that what people think of me?"
Sam just shrugged.
The question-and-answer lasted a while longer, and when it ended, the three of them slipped out of the room first.
"I can't believe he's publishing again." Dean snapped. "He can't just, publish our lives!"
"Dean, relax." Alex quickened her pace to match his. "Let's get some lunch, maybe get some sleep. We can deal with all this later."
Dean stopped, looking her in the eyes. "Yeah, maybe you're right," he finally admitted. "I - let's go." He lead them out the motel and back to the Impala. Once they had found the right one, they drove back to the motel.
...
They were able to get a few hours sleep in before they were back up. Both Dean and Sam were still mad about the books, so they got back into the car and drove back to the convention.
Alex led the way back into the building. "Hey. We haven't eaten since lunch. Let's get some dinner."
"First we got to find Chuck," Dean told her.
"Chuck isn't going anywhere," Alex argued. "But I'm starving." On cue, her stomach growled.
"Alex is right," Sam put in. "I'm hungry too."
"Fine." Dean rolled his eyes. "Just a quick meal, okay?"
"Promise." They entered the cafe, stopping for a sandwich and a beer. They wouldn't sell the alcohol to Alex, so she just drank half of Dean's. He went back for a second.
"I still can't believe he's publishing," Dean continued. "He has no right to our lives! My life is private, you know?"
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "He should have at least told us, asked for our permission."
Alex rolled her eyes, but had to agree they had a point. She knew she'd be in this next set of books, and, thinking back, that wasn't very appealing.
...
They finished around 6:30, and stood up to find Chuck. "Hey, Dean. Nice costume," a guy called. Dean nodded politely, walking off in the other direction.
"This is just freakin weird," he muttered.
"Hey, Dean." A man approached.
Alex looked up. "Me?" she asked.
"Yeah. Duh." The man rolled his eyes, and, judging by his costume, he was Sam. He studied Alex. "Tell you what? You want to do a little role playing? You be Dean, I'll be Sam?" He raised his eyebrow seductively. "How about we do a little investigating of our own?"
Alex felt herself blush. "How about you get a life?" she snapped. She stalked off. Dean snickered. "Shut up," she hissed back to him. "You know what he's implying, of course."
Dean immediately shut up. "These guys are freaks," he swore.
...
It took them a half hour to find Chuck, who was with Becky, sitting at a table. "Hey Sam!" Becky exclaimed. Chuck looked disappointed, and Alex narrowed her eyes.
"Excuse us." Dean told Becky. He angrily turned to Chuck. "In case you haven't noticed, our plates are kind of full, okay? Finding the Colt, hunting the devil? We don't have time for this crap."
"I dunno." Alex shrugged, sitting down in a chair next to Becky. "We have a little time." Dean glared at her, but she ignored them. "You gonna drink that?" she asked Becky, taking a sip of her drink.
"It's alcoholic . . ." Becky began to point out.
"Good."
"I didn't call you," Chuck was saying.
"He means the books, Chuck," Sam clarified. "Why are you publishing more books?"
"Uh, for food and shelter?"
Dean leaned closer. "Who gave you the right to our life story?" he challenged.
"An archangel, and I didn't want it."
"Well deal's off, okay?" Sam added. He shot a quick glance at Becky, "Our lives are not for public consumption."
"Ah, Becky, would you excuse us for a second?" Chuck stood up.
Becky nodded, wide eyed. "Uh-huh." Alex got up to follow, but Becky caught her hand. "I know you and Sam aren't dating," she said, her eyes darkening. "Chuck told me."
Alex shrugged. "Yeah. Thank God for that." She pulled her hand out of Becky's grasp and followed the three men.
Chuck led them into a nearby hallway before stopping and turning to face them. "Do you know what I do for a living?" he asked them.
"Yeah, Chuck, we know," Sam told him.
"Then could you tell me? 'Cause I don't, alright? I'm not a good writer. I have no marketable skills. I'm not some hero who can just hit the road and fight monsters, okay?" His voice rose. "Until the world ends, I've got to live, alright? And the Supernatural books are all I've got. What else do you want me to do?" He ended, and both Sam and Dean exchanged a glance. Alex let out a noise of agreement.
Suddenly, an ear piercing scream split the air. Alex's head snapped up, trying to pinpoint the noise. Both Sam and Dean took off down the hall. Alex started after them. "No, guys," Chuck protested. Alex stopped. "Wait," Chuck called. She turned him, asking a silent question. "It's the hunt," the prophet explained.
"Ah." Alex nodded understandingly. "Is it that late already? I'll go tell them." She hurried off after the two hunters.
"What happened?" Dean was asking a seemingly scared woman.
"I saw a ghost," the maid told Dean.
"Dean," Alex stepped forward, he waved her off. Alex looked behind her to see a small crowd was gathering. "Dean," she repeated.
"Alex, hang on," Dean chastised her.
One of the LARPer's walked up to them. "A ghost?" he asked in a obviously forced deep voice, "Can you tell us what is looked like?"
"Why don't you leave this to the grownups, pal." Dean shooed his off.
"Dean," Alex repeated.
"A woman," the maid replied. "She was in an old fashioned dress. Really old. Like a school marm, or something?"
"Did she say something to you?" another man asked. Dean turned around, seeing the crowd for the first time. He was about to tell them something when the woman spoke up.
"Ok." She raised her voice, a grin across her face. "Gather close, everybody, for a terrifying tale of terror! I saw, a ghost."
Dean finally seemed to finally understand what was going on. Alex gave him a face that read, 'I tried to tell you.' Sam pushed his way past the maid, and Dean then Alex followed. "Yeah, the hunt's started."
"Well, thanks for telling us," Dean snapped.
"I tried," Alex snapped back, but stopped when Becky came running up to them.
"Oooh, the LARPing's started," she said excitedly.
"The - what is that again?" Dean asked.
"Live . . ." Alex began.
"Live Action Role Playing." Becky cut in. "It's a game. The convention puts it on." She handed Sam a piece of paper.
He took it, unfolding it. "Dad's Journal," he read. "Sam and Dean, this hotel is haunted. You must hunt down the ghost. Interview witnesses, discover clues, and find the bones. First team to do so wins a . . . $50 gift card to Sizzler. Love, Dad." Both he and Dean exchanged a look.
"Ooh. Gift card," Alex said dryly.
"You guys are sooo going to win!" Becky exclaimed. Alex gave a noncommittal grunt. She noticed the crowd had started to disperse, heading back down towards the lobby. She nudged Dean, and they followed them down.
When they reached the lobby, it was empty. Alex narrowed her eyes in confusion. She looked up at Dean. Then, some people entered, and Alex saw why they had left. They had changed into suits, and everyone was holding a fake FBI badge in their hands. Alex rolled her eyes. "Give me a break." she groaned. Dean and Sam followed the group over to the manager, and Alex did the same. They stood a few paces back, watching.
"Why yes, Agents Lennon and McCartney, as the manager of this fine establishment, I can insure you this place is indeed haunted. This place once was an orphanage, run by mean old Leticia Gore. 100 years ago, on this very night, Miss Gore went insane, and butchered four little boys before killing herself. Now folks say the that the souls of those poor little boys are trapped here, and the evil spirit of Miss Gore punishes them to this very day."
Alex huffed, and Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, that's just about all the community theatre I can take."
"Yeah, this cannot get any weirder," Sam agreed.
As if on cue, two men walked by, talking in deep voices. "Dad said . . . he said I might have to kill you," one growled.
"Kill me?" the other asked. "What the hell does that mean?"
"I don't know," the first growled.
"Oh . . ." They walked out of earshot.
Alex couldn't help it. She laughed. Sam punched her. "Ow. Dean," she whined to the older hunter, rubbing her shoulder, "he hit me again."
"This isn't funny," Dean agreed. Alex huffed. "I need a drink," both Sam and Dean decided at the same time. He led them over to the bar. Alex sat down on one of the bar stools, swiveling back and forth. She ended up ordering a Mountain Dew, sipping it occasionally. Dean sat beside her, staring at his beer. "How you doing?" Alex looked up to see him talking to a woman. She was staring down at her cell phone, but appeared to be one of the hired actors.
"Busy." The woman didn't look up.
"Well, you sure look lovely tonight," Dean continued. "Especially for a dead chick."
The woman still didn't look up. "Buddy, I have heard that line seventeen times tonight. And all from guys in MacGyver jackets." Alex snickered. The woman looked up and paused. Dean held her gaze. "But you seem different."
"How so?"
She smiled. "Well, you don't seem scared of woman," she finally admitted. Dean smirked.
A loud voice reached their ears, and all three looked up. "For the last time I'm not making this up, okay?" A young man raised his voice in agitation. "She's upstairs. A real, live, dead ghost."
Dean and Sam got up and approached them. "Excuse me?" Dean asked. Alex hopped off the bar stool and followed.
"I'm sure it was just one of those ghost actors." The man's friend tried to comfort him.
"Who beat the hell out of me then vanished?" the young man exclaimed. Blood dripped down from his ear and forehead.
"You saw something?" Sam asked.
"This isn't part of the game, jerk," the man told Sam. He turned back to his friend. "Look, I'm getting out of here and you should do the same." He walked away.
"Alex, wait." He didn't. His friend took off after him. "Hey, come back!"
"What do you think?" Sam turned to Dean.
"I don't think the guy's a good enough actor to be acting," Dean decided. Alex smiled in humor. "Let's go check it out." Dean led them into the lobby.
"Why yes, Agents Jagger and Richards." the manager was saying. "As manager of this fine establishment, I can insure you it is indeed haunted."
They stalked right by him and up to the front desk. "Excuse me." Dean asked the man working there. "Mind if we ask you a few questions?"
"Look. I don't have time to play Star Wars, guys." The real manager looked up. "Go ask the guy in the ascot."
"Actually," Dean slid a fifty dollar bill across the desk, "we, ah, really wanted to talk to you."
"Okay," the manager looked interested. "You guys are really into this."
"You have no idea," Alex said quietly.
"What do you want to know?" the hotel manager ignored her comment.
"All the stuff they're saying. This place being haunted, Leticia Gore. Any truth to it?"
"We generally don't like to publicize this to, normal people, but yeah. 1910 this place was called 'Gore Orphanage.' Miss Gore, killed four boys with a butcher's knife, then offed herself."
"And is tonight really the anniversary?" Sam asked.
"Yep. Guess your convention folks want authenticity."
Alex snickered. Sam nudged her quiet her.
"Hm." Dean glanced at Sam.
"There been any sightings?" the younger brother asked.
"Yep. Over the years." The manager looked over at Sam. "A few maids have quit saying they heard the boys or saw them. A janitor even saw Miss Gore once."
"Where did Miss Gore carve up the kids?" Dean asked with a glance at Sam.
"Look, I don't want you stomping all over the joint. A lot of this place is off limit to nerds."
In response, Dean slid another $50 across the desk.
"The attic," the man whispered to them, taking the bill.
Sam and Dean nodded their thanks then walked off. Alex followed. Sam and Dean exchanged a few words, and then Sam headed off. "Where's he going?" Alex asked.
"EMF," Dean explained.
"Mm." Alex watched him go. "What about weapons? He getting any of those?"
Dean looked down at her. "Uh, no. I don't think so."
"Okay." Alex shrugged. "Cool." She dragged Dean over to the convention stands, looking over the merchandise. Dean wasn't really interested, but politely, if only halfheartedly, listened to her rambling.
Finally Sam came back with the EMF and three flashlights. He handed one to Dean and tossed Alex the other. "Let's go."
Alex followed them up the winding stairs. At the very top, they searched for the entrance to the attic. "Over here," Dean called. They walked over to him. He had opened a small paneling in the wall, barely large enough for Sam to get through. "Any volunteers?"
"Alex." Sam pushed her towards the entrance.
"What?" Alex spluttered, backing away. "No way, man."
"You got the short straw."
"Because you're short," Dean added.
Alex huffed. "My height can't your reason for everything."
"My height's your reason for everything," Sam pointed out. Alex huffed again, but flicked on her flashlight, climbing through the hole in the wall. "You still alive?" Sam called.
"Yes." Alex shot back. "Sorry to disappoint." She moved out of the way to let Sam through, shining her light around. The room was full of old furniture and boxes, and everything was coated with a thick layer of dust. "Ugh." She pointed her flashlight in Sam's face. He shied away at the light. "This place is worse than Bobby's."
Sam stepped forward, letting Dean through, and pulled out the EMF detector, turning it on. It immediately began buzzing. "The EMF's going nuts," he said quietly.
Dean stood up. "Great," he grumbled. "We've got a real ghost, and a bunch of dudes pretending to be us poking at it."
"No way this ends well."
"You know, it serves them right," Dean added.
"Dean."
"I'm just saying." He glanced over at Alex. "Know what we're dealing with?"
"Uh, maybe?" Alex narrowed her eyes. "I remember the convention. And the real ghosts. And scalping. That's all. If I remember anything else . . ."
"You'll tell us. I know," Dean finished for her. "Save it."
"Scalping?" Sam looked down at her.
"Yeah. One of the boys was scalped."
Dean grunted. He headed deeper into the attic, flashlight bobbing up and down. Alex followed. Sam veered off, searching the other side. Alex shined her flashlight over everything, not sure what they were searching for. She opened her mouth to ask, but was interrupted.
"My mommy loves me," a small voice said. Alex jumped. Sam turned, his flashlight illuminating a small boy sitting in the corner, hands covering his head. Dean hurried over to Sam, and Alex followed at a slower pace. "I said, my mommy loves me," the boy repeated.
"I'm sure she does," Sam replied, unsure what to do.
"My mommy loves me this much." The boy lifted his hands to gesture, revealing his head. Fear shot through Alex as she saw the gaping wound, revealing white bone, streaked with dark red blood. She felt the two brothers stiffen beside her. The boy shimmered, and disappeared.
They stood there is shock for a few seconds. Finally Dean spoke. "We should go."
"Yeah."
They quickly left the attic, hurrying back down to the bar. Sam excused himself, pulling out his phone, saying he was going to make a call to the Historical Society. Dean and Alex sat down at a nearby table. They sat in silence, and Alex's eyes started to wander about the room. She saw Becky sitting with Chuck. Becky looked up, catching Sam's eye. He gave her a half nod, still talking on the phone. Alex nudged, Dean motioning to Becky with her head. Dean looked over in time to see Becky lick her hand, then blow it at Sam. Alex turned to see Sam's reaction, laughing. Sam didn't find it funny; instead, he looked very disconcerted, and attempted a wave back. Alex turned back to Dean as Sam hung up and approached them.
"Not funny, Alex," he told her, seeing her smile.
"Hey." Alex held up her hands defensively. "You're the one who didn't want my help."
"Yeah, because your help wasn't helping." Sam shot back. He turned to Dean. "So I just talked with a guy with the County Historical Society."
"And?"
"Not only did Leticia Gore butcher four sons, but one of them was her own son."
"Her son." Dean repeated.
"Yeah. According to the police at the time, she scalped the kid."
"Oh that's it," Dean said angrily. "I'm going to deep fry this bitch extra crispy. Dude say where she was buried?"
"Probably in a cemetery?" Alex suggested helpfully.
"He doesn't know." Sam said.
"Check it out." Alex recognized the voice. It was one of the LARPer's. "There is the orphanage, here's the carriage house, and right there, the cemetery."
"You think that's where Leticia's planted?" the guy playing Dean growled. Alex snickered at the bad acting. Sam stood up.
"It's worth a shot," the first guy said. Sam approached, reaching out to touch the map. "Hey! Hey!" the man protested.
"Hey, do you mind?" the second man stood up, grabbing the map.
Sam turned to Dean. "It's real. A century old, at least, and he's right. There's a cemetery on the grounds."
"Where'd you get that?" Dean asked fake Dean.
"It's called a game, pal. It ain't called charity," fake Dean growled.
Dean sighed. "Yeah right. Gimme the map, Chuckles."
"Yeah, well you're the Chuckles, Chuckles. And Dean don't listen to nobody." Fake Dean pulled back his jacket slightly to reveal a small plastic gun. Alex rolled her eyes.
"Dean, cool it," fake Sam warned.
Dean looked like he had had enough. He reached to pull out his own gun. "Dean!" Sam protested.
"What?" he asked. "They're fucking annoying!" Alex bit her lip, trying not to smile. Almost as an instinct, she touched her gun, which was beneath her jacket.
"Look, guys." Sam said. "We all wanna find the bones, right? We just thought it'd be faster if we all worked together."
Fake Sam and Dean exchanged looks. "Fine," fake Sam said. "We, ah, we get the Sizzler gift card."
"Fine," Dean rolled his eyes.
"And we get to be Sam and Dean," Fake Dean added. Alex adverted her gaze from real Sam and Dean. Sam noticed, kicking her in the leg.
"Fine." Dean rolled his eyes again.
"Yes," Fake Dean whispered.
"We'll go get our stuff," Sam said. "Meet us here in three minutes." He turned towards Alex. Stay here." He dropped his voice. "Don't let them run off."
Alex smiled, rolling her eyes. She watched them head off towards the car.
"So, who are you suppose to be? Dean?" fake Dean studied her.
Alex held out a hand. "Name's Alex. And you are?"
"Dean," Fake Dean replied in a deep voice.
"I'm serious. Real names."
Fake Dean looked down at the ground. "Damien." he said in his normal voice. "This is Barnes."
"Ah. Nice to meet you." Alex took a seat on the table, looking around. "So, uh, what's your favorite book?" she asked, trying to start up a conversation.
"Asylum," Damien replied quickly.
"I like No Rest for the Wicked," Barnes admitted.
"That's a good one." Alex tipped her head to one side, scratching the back of her neck mindlessly.
"Yeah. What about you?"
Alex shrugged. "Dunno. Probably Mystery Spot. The Trickster's pretty sweet. The next round of books are going to be good. Just a heads up."
"Alex." Chuck caught up to her.
"Chuck." Alex smiled. "Sam and Dean will be back soon if you want to talk. There's this ghost, and people poking at it. No biggie."
All of her words seemed to evade the prophet. "Uh, yeah, that's, that's nice. Can, can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Mr. Edlund?" Damien asked, pushing his way past Alex. "It's an honor, sir."
"Uh, yes. Nice to meet you. I need to talk with Alex first."
At the moment, Sam and Dean came back, carrying their bags. "Let's go," Sam called.
"Sorry, Chuck. Can it wait?" Alex asked apologetically.
"Uh, yeah. I guess." Chuck trailed off, watching her go.
Alex walked over to Sam and Dean. "Damien. Barnes." She pointed to the two fans in turn. "In case you were wondering."
"Hm." Dean huffed. "Thanks."
"Okay, remember." Damien walked over to them. "I'm Dean, he's Sam. You're Rufus," he told Sam, "and you're Bobby," he told Dean. Then he glanced at Alex. "And you're still Alex."
"Never stopped," Alex mumbled.
Damien led them outside and down a skinny path. Him and Barnes quickly pulled ahead. "Hey, Rufus, Bobby. Would you hurry it up?" He called over his shoulder.
"You alright?" Sam asked Dean.
"I'm trying to be," Dean grumbled. Alex smiled in the darkness.
"So where were we?" Barnes asked.
"Ah, Dr. Ellicott just zapped your brain," Damien reminded him.
"Right got it." Barnes lowered his voice into character. "Why are we even here, Dean? You just following dad's footsteps like a good little soldier? Are you that desperate for approval?" Alex let out a low whistle, knowing this wasn't going to end well with the two Winchesters. Alex looked up at Dean. He was looking at Sam, his face asking, 'How much longer do we have to put up with this?' Sam frowned in response.
"This isn't you talking, Sam," Damien growled. Alex couldn't help but laugh at that pathetic voice. Both Damien and Barnes turned around to look at her. Sam looked down at her, not very happy. "What's wrong, Alex?" Damien growled in that same voice.
"N-Nothing," Alex gasped out, "I can't . . ." she trailed off, trying to breathe. Sam quickly grew annoyed, giving her a rough shove. Alex didn't have time to brace herself, and she fell to the ground. "Ow," she whined. "Sammy."
"He's not Sam," Damien complained, pulling himself out of character. "He's Rufus."
"Besides, only Dean can call him 'Sammy'," Barnes added.
"That's not true." Alex stood back up. "Right, Sammy?"
"Don't call me Sammy," Sam said crossly.
"You guys aren't even doing it right." Damien complained again. "In the books, Sam's the one who likes Alex. They're suppose to be, like, friends."
"Ah, we're more than friends, right Sammy?"
Sam just glared at her.
"Just kidding." Alex rolled her eyes. "Sam was nice until he tried to kill me, uh, Alex, because Dean went to Hell, and then again after Dean came back."
"What are you talking about?" Barnes looked confused.
"Never mind," Alex grumbled.
Damien and Barnes turned back to their little game. "Where were we? Right." Barnes cleared his throat. "That's the difference between you and me. I have a mind of my own. I'm not pathetic."
"So what are you going to do, Sam. Are you going to kill me?" Damien growled, back in character.
"I'm sick of you telling me what to do."
"All right, you know what?" Dean interrupted them. "That's it. That is it."
"What' wrong, Bobby?" Damien turned, slightly irritated at being interrupted again.
Dean hesitated, so angry he could barely speak. "I'm not Bobby, okay?" he finally spat. "You're not Sam. You're not Dean." He pointed to each of them in turn. "What is wrong with you? Why in the hell would you choose to be these guys?"
Both Damien and Barnes seemed taken aback. "Because we're fans," Damien said in his normal voice. "Like you."
"No. I am not a fan, ok? Not fans. In fact, I think that the Sam and Dean story sucks. It is not fun. It is not entertaining. It is a river of crap that would send most people howling to the nut house. So you listen to me. Their pain is not for your amusement. I mean, do you think they enjoy being treated like, like circus freaks?"
"Uh, I don't think they care because they're fictional characters." Damien explained.
"Oh, they care. Believe me, they care a lot." Dean stormed by them, back down the path. They watched him go.
"He, uh, takes the stories really seriously," Sam told them. Alex hurried after Dean, quickly catching up to him.
"Dean . . ."
"Leave me alone," Dean growled.
Alex hesitated, but did as he asked, stopping to let him walk ahead. She let Damien and Barnes pass her as well, and waited for Sam to pass as well. He didn't. Instead he stopped beside her. "You okay?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah," Alex sighed. "I'm fine. Let's go." She walked with Sam down the path until the reached the graveyard. They silently began searching the graves, looking for the right headstones.
"I found the four boys," Dean called quietly.
"And here's Leticia Gore," Sam added.
Alex shone her flashlight around, its beam resting on Damien and Barnes. "Uh, what are you doing?" Dean asked them, seeing them looking in the long grass.
"We're looking for bones, genius." Damien said, back in character. "They got to be around her somewhere."
"Uh, yeah. Well, generally, bones are in the ground," Alex informed them. There was a loud thump as Sam dropped his bag. He bent down, opening it.
"Yeah, I know that," Damien said in that voice, "I just . . ." He paused, seeing Sam pull a shovel out of the bag and hand it to Alex.
"Just what?" she asked, taking the shovel and unfolding it.
"Wait, hold on. Are you guys serious?" Damien asked.
"Deadly." Dean took his own shovel out of his bag.
"We're not really digging up graves, you guys. We're just playing a game."
"Trust us." Dean told them, giving them a smile. "You want to win the game, right?"
They headed over to the grave of Miss Leticia Gore, and started digging. Alex and Dean started, and after a while, Sam stepped in and Alex stepped back. They continued trading off until they had cleared all of the dirt away from the coffin. Alex jumped out of the grave, taking Dean's shovel. A sharp wind blew the leaves on the ground, and Alex brush hair out of her face. She heard Dean pull off the coffin's lid, and both Barnes and Damien gasped.
"That's not a plastic skeleton. T-That's a skeleton skeleton," Damien stuttered.
"You guys just dug up a real grave," Barnes whispered.
"Uh, yeah." Alex looked down at the bones. She sat down, dangling her feet into the grave.
"Yeah," Dean agreed.
"You guys are nuts."
"I thought you said you wanted to be hunters," Sam asked.
"Hunters aren't real, man." Damien's voice rose in panic. "This isn't real." They both turned to walk away.
"You guys have seriously lost your grip on this . . ." Barnes turned to face Sam and froze.
"What?" Sam asked.
"Sam," Alex said quietly, slowly standing up. "Behind you?"
"Naughty, naughty naughty." Sam spun around to see a woman in old clothes. She flickered,and slapped Sam, sending him flying across the cemetery. She heard Damien and Barnes running. Dean climbed out of the grave, and Alex hurried over to the duffle bags. She heard a loud thud and looked over to see Barnes trip and fall to the ground.
"Barnes!" Damien called. He turned and hurried back to his friend.
"Alex!" Dean tossed her a bag of salt. She obediently began pouring it over the bones.
"Oh my God!" She looked up to see Damien and Barnes frozen, Miss Gore standing in front of them.
"Naughty, naughty, naughty," the ghost cackled again.
"Alex." Dean kept pouring the gasoline over the bones. Alex finished pouring the salt. She heard screams, and looked up. She heard a click, and a whoosh of flames. The ghost burst into flames, burning up. Then it was gone. Alex looked down at the burning grave. She held out her hands, which were slightly numb from the cold winter air.
"Sam?" Alex looked for the hunter. At the sound of her voice, he struggled to his feet. She smiled in relief that he was okay.
"Real enough for you?" Dean asked Damien and Barnes. They turned to look at Dean, their faces contorted in horror. Then they ran. Alex sighed, watching the grave burn. They stood there until the bones slowly turned black. Then, on a silent word, they started to shovel the dirt back into the hole, smothering the fire and the bones. Alex gave Sam her shovel, using her foot to kick the dirt back into place.
...
Within five minutes, they had finished, repacked, and exited the graveyard. Sam led the way back into convention, weaving through the lobby and into the bar. There they found Damien and Barnes.
"That was . . . really . . ." Barnes was saying.
"Awful, right?" Dean finished. They both turned to look at the three of them. "Exactly. Round's on us, guys." Dean slapped Barnes on the shoulder, putting a ten dollar bill on the table.
"See you around." Sam told them, and they turned to leave.
"Hey." Damien stopped them. "How'd you know how to do all that?"
Alex stopped, back facing them, letting out a small smile.
"We, uh, read the books," Sam lied. Dean nodded. They continued to the door. On the way, they passed Chuck, who was talking with the convention manager.
Dean stopped to face him. "Hey, Chuck. Good luck with the Supernatural books, and screw you very much." With that, he walked to the doors.
"Friends of yours?" the convention manager asked.
"Hmm. I'd say not. Alex." Chuck stopped her. "I need to talk to you."
Alex opened her mouth to respond, but stopped when she heard Dean say, "That's weird." She turned to see Dean and Sam standing by the door, which wasn't budging, no matter how hard the pulled on it.
"Definitely," Sam agreed.
"Hang on," Alex told Chuck. "What's wrong?" she called.
"Damn door won't budge." Dean dropped his bag at the door, and Sam did the same.
"Sorry." Alex turned to Chuck. "Is this important, like, can't wait another minute important, or is it I could tell you later important?"
"Uh, it can wait, I guess," Chuck began. Alex took that as the go ahead, and hurried off to Dean, who had headed upstairs.
"What's up?" She asked him, watching him try and pry a window open.
"I told you. The door's locked. And so is the window," Dean informed her. Sam came back. "Hey, anything?"
"Every exit's locked, almost like something's . . ."
"Keeping us in?" Dean guessed, then sighed. He frustratedly pounded on the window.
"Yeah." Sam agreed. "This is bad."
"Gee, you think Sammy?" He turned to Alex. "Remember this part?" Alex forced out a apologetic smile in response. He groaned. "Some use you are."
"Hey," Alex protested. "You want good future telling, go ask Chuck over there. It's been two full years since I've seen the damn show."
A scream interrupted them. All three's heads snapped up. The woman Dean had been flirting with ran out of a room, and Dean caught her in his arms. "Don't go in there," she begged them.
"Get downstairs, okay?" Dean told her. "Go, go!" The woman did as she was told. Dean and Sam walked into the room, and Alex followed.
There, in the corner of the library, was the boy they had seen in the attic, still clutching his head. "Why did you do that?" he asked them pitifully. "Why did you send my mommy away?"
"Ah, maybe because of the high and tight she gave you, hmm? How about a little thanks?" Dean asked, still very much annoyed. Sam cleared his throat in warning. "Well, I'm just saying a little gratitude would be be nice once and a while," Dean defended himself.
"My mommy didn't do this to me."
"What? Then who did?" Sam asked, surprised. The boy disappeared.
"Shit." Alex closed her eyes. "Dammit!" She hit her head against the wall.
"Calm down," Dean told her. "What's going on?"
"Dammit." She cursed herself again. "I am thick! Thick." She hit her forehead with her palm. "Thick and slow."
"Why?" Dean asked slowly. "What's wrong."
"I mean, seriously. How did I forget?" She looked up at the Winchesters, her voice almost a whine. "I just wanted a damn t-shirt."
"Alex."
"Sorry." Alex pulled it together. "It wasn't Gore. It was the boys. They murdered her son, and they're haunting the place. The only reason they haven't kill anyone else was because Gore was keeping them in place, but now she's gone . . ."
"So now the boys are going to kill us?" Dean exploded. "Thanks for telling us."
She was saved from responding by another scream. They tore down the hallway, stopping at the sight of a body laying on the floor. Alex's breath caught in her throat as she saw part of the man's scalp was missing, the blood pooling on the floor. She adverted her eyes. Damn.
"Come on." Dean hurried off down the stairs and into the lobby. It was empty. "Any plans?"
"We should get everyone in one place." Alex closed her eyes. "Preferably a room that we can seal with salt, keep everyone safe. Where is everybody?"
"In there." Sam caught up to them. He pointed to the room where they had had the Q&A session earlier that day.
"Round up all the staff," she told Dean. "Samster, with me."
Dean and Sam exchanged a glance, but didn't protest. Sam followed her into the large room. Chuck was up on stage, answering even more questions. "Well, guys, I guess we're out of time," he was saying. "So thank you for your incredibly probing and rigorous questions, and have a good . . ."
Sam ran up onto the stage, whispering something in Chuck's ear.
"Hey, what?" he asked. "Holy crap!" Alex flinched as the concern spread through the crowd. Sam noticed and covered the mic with his hand. He whispered something else, and Chuck nodded. They exchanged a few more words, and Sam walked off the stage. "Hey, good news," Chuck said. "I got much more to tell you. I guess."
The door opened, and the hotel manager walked into the room, followed by a line of the other staff. "Buddy, I got work to do," he told Dean.
"You're going to want to see this, trust me," Dean promised. "It's going to be a hell of a show." The rest of the staff filed in, and Dean closed the door. He and Sam immediately began laying salt they had had in their duffle bags, which were now in the corner of the room.
"Ah, what does the future hold for Sam and Dean?" Chuck repeated, catching Alex's attention. "Well, how do you feel about angels? Yeah, because let me tell you, they're not nearly as lame as you think."
Alex chuckled.
"Okay. Obviously the legends of Leticia Gore are ass-backwards. So what's our new theory?"
"Yeah. So let's say those three boys were playing cowboys and indians," Sam theorized.
"LARPing as cowboys and indians," Dean joked.
"Okay. So they catch Gore's son and scalp him."
"Mom gets pissed, offs the three kids then herself."
"So how are we going to stop those three little brats?" Sam turned to Alex. "We've got to burn their bones. The doors won't budge, and our guns aren't going to do anything."
"Guys." Alex motioned to herself. "You've got me."
"Fat lot of good you've done us so far."
"Yeah, but I remember now. And it's all coming back fast. We need to distract the kids. Make them think Miss Gore is back. That'll loosen their grip on the building, and we can slip out."
"Well, great," Dean replied sarcastically. "Too bad we burned her bones. Where are we going to get a new ghost?" Alex glanced backwards at the the actor who had played Gore. "Oh," Dean breathed. "Got it."
"You too handle this. I'll go help Chuck." She looked up to see him struggling on stage. "Good luck."
She headed up onto the stage. "Hey, Chuck," she smiled. "Want some help?"
"Uh, yeah." Chuck nodded. "That could be nice." he covered the mic with his hand. "There's another mic over there." He pointed to the podium. Alex retrieved the second microphone. Becky handed her a chair, and she took it. Chuck sat down in his. "Uh, what do you want to say?" he asked her.
"Hey." Alex turned to the crowd. "How's it going?"
"Get off the stage, Dean," one of the fans called.
Alex pulled an offended face. "Dean? I am not Dean. Why would you think that?"
"Uh, 'cause you're dressed like him?" the fan offered helpfully.
"Ah." Alex looked down at her clothes. "That actually explains a lot. No, my name is Alex. Hello." She smiled. Silence.
"Uh, hello," another fan called.
"I like you," Alex told him. "You answered me."
"Y-Your welcome." The fan turned away.
Alex laughed. "Okay. Obviously you guys aren't getting this. I'm Alex." Still nothing. "From the books?" She sighed. "I'm not-actually-a-winchester, guys, and I'm the inspiration for Alex as well. I know everything about Sam, Dean, and especially about Alex."
"Right." The first fan stood up. "Sure you are. Want to put that to the test?"
"Bring it." Alex seemed unfazed. She saw Damien and Barnes stand up and exit the room, but didn't say anything.
"You said you knew the future. Why didn't you save Dean from hell?"
"Didn't ease into that one, did you?" Alex pulled a thoughtful face. "It isn't really easy to explain. I mean, I knew Dean was coming back, and I didn't want to change anything in this universe. If everything changed, I'd no longer be any use, and staying useful is very important around here. Besides, I think I was still in denial about this being the real world and not just some joke." The question seemed to satisfy the man, as he sat down. More people raised their hands. Alex turned to Chuck. "Can I tell them stuff about the new books?" she asked. "I won't give away any spoilers."
"Yeah, that's, that's fine." Chuck didn't seem to care. "As long as they, you know."
Alex nodded. "Okay. If you guys want, I'll tell you about the new books. But, you have to promise not to reveal what happens to anyone until the books come out, okay?"
Agreements rose from the crowd. Alex picked a person, and he stood up. "What's in the future for Alex?" he asked.
"Well. "Alex pulled her feet up onto the chair, crossing them. "She tags along for a few of Sam and Dean's adventures. At first, they weren't really happy about it, but, they don't mind anymore. I don't think."
"What's her relationship with Sam and Dean?"
Alex laughed. "Well, let's just say me and Sam don't get along very well. He just doesn't understand how awesome I am. Well, that and the fact that he tried to kill me." There several voices of protest. Alex held up her hand. "Please. Let's be honest. Sammy is a bit dysfunctional." More protests. "Okay, okay. I tease Sam a lot. All the time, about basically everything. But he did try to kill me. He wasn't happy that Dean went to Hell. And I can't blame him. But then, four months later when Dean came back, he tried to kill me again. I mean, first he tries to kill me because Dean's dead, and then he tries to kill me because Dean's back. I can't win." She stopped. "That answer your question? Oh yeah. Me and Dean get along fine. He's like the best big brother in the world." More hands. "You."
"Mr. Edlund said there would be angels?"
"Oh yeah. Lots of angels," Alex smiled. "My favorite is Cas. He's pretty cute." She turned to Chuck. "Don't tell him I said that."
"I don't tell him anything."
"Right." Alex cleared her throat. "So what do you want to know about angels?"
"Uh, why are they there?"
"One word. Apocalypse. Michael, Lucifer, the whole shebang. Hopefully we can stop it. If not, sorry. Viva la vida." Awkward silence. Alex laughed, hoping to disperse the tension. "Any other questions? Stupid things Sammy's done?"
"Why are you dressed like Dean?" the first fan called.
"It's not like I have my own clothes," Alex told him. "Besides, eight days after I showed up, Dean went to Hell. And it wasn't like he was using them. So I wore them. Still do. I don't think he minds."
"How did Alex end up in the Supernatural universe? What was her life like before?"
"Hm." Alex took a deep breath. "It's not much better than it is now. My mom died when I was seven. My father grew increasingly depressed, started drinking, gambling. One day, when I was twelve, he just got up and left. I lived on my own for almost a month before my neighbor found out what was going on and I was put into the foster system. My first foster family was really nice. I live with them for four years. Then they died. In a car crash." Alex paused, unprepared for the emotions that came flooding back. "My next family weren't as nice. They didn't care for me. I was really nothing more than a slave. Menial task force. I would go off for days, and they wouldn't even notice. I'm not even sure if they noticed I'm gone. They probably think I moved away.
"How did I end up here? Well, I was walking down the street. Nothing very exciting. One moment the ground was there, the next it wasn't, and I was falling. There was a flash of white, and then, I was falling from the sky. And I hit Dean's car. He wasn't very happy about that. But that's what happened."
One of the fans looked at Chuck. "Is she right?"
"A-About what?" Chuck stuttered.
"About everything."
"Uh, uh yeah."
"Where did you come up with the idea of Alex?"
Alex looked over a Chuck, eyes questioning. "She, uh, just came to me one day," he stammered out. Alex rolled her eyes.
"How does Dean get out of Hell?" A person yelled.
"Well, someone, or something, pulls him out," Alex said slowly. "Someone fairly good looking, dangerous, and an overall badass. Not going to say who. And no, it wasn't me." She laughed at her own joke. A few people nervously chuckled as well. "I mean, I meet all of those criteria, but it wasn't me. Any more questions?"
A shy girl raised her hand. "From reading the last book, I got the feeling that you and Sam had a, thing. Is that true?"
Alex looked shocked. "Like, a thing thing? I mean, we have a I-tease-him-and-he-tries-to-kill-me thing, but not like a thing thing. Seriously? You got that from the book?" She looked over at Chuck, who just shrugged. "But Sammy? Everyone knows Dean's cuter," she added with a chuckle. "Don't tell him I said that."
The audience looked bored, and Alex sighed.
...
A few questions later, the hotel manager stood up. "Excuse me." Chuck spoke, standing up. "You really can't leave. Please sir." Alex stood up as well. The manager continued towards the door. "Don't open that door!" Chuck yelled. The manager didn't listen. He pulled open the door, breaking the salt line in the process.
"Damn," Alex cursed aloud. A boy appeared in the doorway, a large grin across his face. The manager stepped back, shocked. The audience stood up, just as stunned . The boy held up a large knife. Alex rushed forward, but Chuck was faster. He flew forward, grabbing a iron stand in the corner. With a mighty swing, he sliced through the ghost, dispelling it. He slammed the door, barring it with his body. "I said nobody leaves, dammit. Now somebody salt this door."
Alex grabbed the bag of salt in the corner, fixing it. "You okay?" she asked the manager. He nodded, still in shock. Alex headed back up to the stage. "Okay, listen up. You want to know what's going on? Ghosts? Real. And we have three really pissed off ones now." Murmurs rose up from the crowd. "The whole Leticia Gore legend? Ass-backwards." Yes, she quoted Dean. "She didn't kill four boys. Well, she did, but she only killed three. The forth, her son, was killed by those three boys. They scalped him. Gore flipped out, killed the other three, then offed herself. She haunts the place, yeah, but she keeps the boys in line." she paused, slightly embarrassed."We might have accidentally burned Gore's bones. Yes, I should have remembered from the show, but it has been two years. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go help Sam and Dean. Stay here." She ran back down the isle. "Keep them here," she muttered to Chuck. He nodded.
Alex slipped out into the hall, looking back and forth. She ran down the hall, keeping her footsteps as silent as possible. She stopped outside the library, freezing. There was Sam and Dean, laying on the floor, two ghost boys on top of them, knifes in hand. Both Sam and Dean were struggling to keep the knife out of their heads. Alex saw an iron poker lying on the ground. "Hang on." she yelled, picking it up. She swung at the nearest boy, dispelling him. The next second, it was thrown from her hands, and a heavy weight knocked her to the ground. She struggled, but to no avail. Then, suddenly, the room lit up at the three boys caught on fire, vanishing in flames. Alex lay on the ground, stunned. Sam and Dean gasped for breath. Finally Dean stood up, walking across the room to pick up his crowbar. "Maybe we should put these things on bungees," he suggested.
Under other circumstances, Alex would have laughed. However, she struggled to her feet, looking over to see that Sam was okay. He was. He stood up, joining Dean. "Now what?" Alex asked, looking over at the two hunters. "What about the guests still in the room? We should go tell them everything's okay."
"Do they know the difference?"
Alex remained silent, and Sam and Dean turned to look at her. "What?" she finally exclaimed. "That ass of a manager walked out the door. Almost got scalped. What was I suppose to tell them?"
Dean let out a sigh. "Fine. Go tell them it's safe."
Alex nodded and hurried down to the room. She flung open the door, stepping in to see Chuck and the audience sitting quietly. She cleared her throat. "Um, attention please?" Everyone had already turned to look at her, so she continued. "Uh, everything in under control. No more problems." she looked over at the clock: it read 11:45. "So, I figured you guys all have a room here? Time for bed, I suppose. Thanks for your cooperation." She ended with a shrug. The audience started to file out, whispering quietly to themselves. Alex saw Chuck and Becky, deep in conversation. "Hey." She waved them down. "So, people are actually staying at this hotel, right?" Chuck nodded.
"Alex." Alex turned at Dean's voice.
She bounded over to them, adrenaline still pumping through her veins. "Hey. What's up?"
"We're going to get a room here. Or do you want to go back to the other motel?"
"No, here is fine." Alex smiled. "Come on. I'm tired." Dean walked off toward the front desk.
"No you're not," Sam noted, smiling as well.
"Yes, I am." Alex objected.
"Hey, uh, I got you something." Sam held out his hand. "Happy birthday."
Alex took the black pile of fabric, unfolding it. "Got Salt," she read, grinning. "Thanks Sam."
"Yeah. It's nothing."
Sam turned his back, and Alex saw her chance, jumping onto his back. "I'm still tired," she insisted. "Too tired to walk up the stairs. You're going to have to carry me," she joked.
"You wish." Sam shot back, trying to dump her off.
"Birthday piggyback ride," Alex insisted. When Sam still tried to dump her off, she added, "Too weak?"
"Never," Sam protested, supporting her legs with his arms. He carried her across the room toward Chuck.
"Onward, Moose!" Alex joked, then rested her head on his shoulder.
Sam came to a halt. "Hey, Chuck. Becky." He acknowledged the woman hesitantly. "We're booking a room here for the night. So, if you need us, we'll be close."
"Uh, yeah, thanks." Chuck adverted his gaze.
Sam carried Alex back across the room, back slightly bent under the weight. Alex had to duck as they passed through the door, her head brushing the doorframe. "Hey," he greeted his brother. Dean stared at him like he had grown a second head. "What?"
"Uh, nothing, nothing." Dean blinked in confusion. "Just, uh, never mind."
Sam nodded, dropping Alex's legs. She slid off his back with a huff of protest.
...
They were woken up the next morning by sirens. They quickly made their way outside where an ambulance and several other emergency response vehicles had been parked. "Looks like someone found that guy's body," Alex mumbled. Sam nodded in agreement, glancing over a group of fans who were talking with the police. Alex watched the paramedics put a covered body into the ambulance. "Wait. Where's Dean?" She looked around to see him talking with Damien and Barnes. She hurried over.
"The real Dean," Dean was saying.
The two men looked at him, then started laughing. "Ah, yeah right. Me too!" Barnes chuckled.
"Get the hell out of here, Dean." Barnes joked.
Alex looked up at Dean, who seemed slightly disappointed they didn't realize he wasn't lying. He forced a smile. "Well, anyways. Thanks. Really." Dean started to walk away.
"You're wrong, you know." Damien stopped him.
Dean turned back. "Sorry?" he asked.
"About Supernatural. No offense, but I'm not sure you get what the stories are about."
Dean smirked. "Is that so?"
"Alright. In real life, he sells stereo equipment, I fix copiers. Our lives suck. But to wake up every morning and save the world, to have a brother who would die for you. Well, who wouldn't want that?"
The hunter considered it. "Maybe you've got a point. You know, you two don't make a bad team yourselves. How did you meet each other anyways?"
"Oh, well we met online," Barnes explained. "Supernatural chat room."
"Oh. Well it must be nice to get out of your parent's basement. Make some friends."
"We're more than friends." Damien took Barnes' hand. "We're partners." Barnes rested his head on Damien's shoulder, his tall height making awkward. Alex bit her lip, trying not to laugh. That wouldn't be nice. But she wasn't going to let Dean forget this one.
"Oh." Dean seemed shocked as well. "Well, howdy partners." He looked at Alex, seeing her expression. He shoved her away. "Go find Sam or something."
"Yes Dean." Alex turned and walked away, finally letting her smile show. She hurried over to Sam, who was talking to Chuck and Becky.
"Oh hey. Chuck. If you really want to publish more books, I guess that's okay with us."
The prophet looked very excited. "Wow. Really?"
"No. Not really. We have guns and we will find you."
"Oh. Okay. No more books."
Sam turned and started to walk away. Becky hurried after him, stopping him a few feet away.
Alex turned to Chuck. "You can publish the books."
"But Sam-"
"Yeah, I heard him. But I get it. You need to eat and get money and stuff. That's cool with me. I promise I won't let them find you with their guns." She lowered her voice. "Just, keep the embarrassing stuff about me to a minimum, okay?"
"O-okay," Chuck nodded.
Alex started to walk away. She spun back around. "Oh! There was something you needed to tell me?"
"Uh, yeah. It's about Cas and . . ." he trailed off. "Uh, never mind. It-it's nothing."
Alex narrowed her eyes, studying him. "Okay," she shrugged. "See you around, I guess." She glanced over at Becky, who was still talking to Sam. She headed off to find the Impala. Dean was already there, leaning against it. "Hey."
"Say. Nothing," Dean said abruptly.
"Fine," Alex laughed. She climbed onto the car, sitting cross-legged on the hood.
A minute later, Sam approached. "You okay?" he asked Dean.
"Yeah, you know? I think I'm good."
"Well, you're not going to believe it, but I got a lead on the Colt."
"What?"
"Long story. I'll tell you on the way?"
"What are you waiting for?" Dean circled around and got into the car. Alex slid off, and got in as well, slamming the door behind her. "Gentle," Dean warned.
Alex rolled her eyes. Dean started the car and drove away, leaving the convention. "What did you learn about the Colt?" he asked Sam.
"Well, apparently, the Colt wasn't given to Lilith. It was given to Crowley."
"Crowley?" Dean echoed.
"Oh! Crowley." Alex sucked in a breath. "I love Crowley. Well, not actually love, more of a love-hate kind of thing. He's a demon. But, yeah. Sorry."
Dean glanced back at her. "Sorry, what?"
"Eyes on the road," Alex told him. "Sorry. I forgot he shows up for this," she apologized to Sam. "It has been over a year and all."
"Yeah, whatever."
"Crowley. He's a demon. Powerful-ish demon. Will be powerful and important later on. And yes, he does have the Colt."
"So where do we find this, Crowley guy?" Dean asked.
"Uh, not sure. Sorry." Alex screwed her face in concentration. "Um, he's a crossroads demon. Was. He's been promoted, but I think he still does some deals, maybe." She dug around in her pocket for her phone. She pulled it out, dialing. "Hey, Cassie. We're in Vermillion, Ohio. On Route 327? Currently moving."
"Okay." Castiel's voice sounded next to hers, and she jumped, hanging up.
"Didn't take you long."
"I was nearby. What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong." Alex leaned back in her seat. "But Sammy's got a lead on the Colt."
"Yeah. A demon named Crowley." Sam looked back at the angel. "Apparently he has the Colt, not Lilith like we thought."
"Yeah. Have you ever heard of him?" Alex asked. "I'm pretty sure he's one of those crossroads demons, but I'm not sure if he is anymore."
"You would like me to find him." Castiel guessed.
"If it isn't too much trouble. It would be faster if you helped," she added quickly. "Seeing that that's kind of your thing."
"Yes." Castiel nodded. "I will see what I can do."
"Thanks." Alex smiled. She blinked, and he was gone.
"Now what?" Dean looked back at her.
"I don't know." Alex shrugged. "Might take a couple days to find him. Bobby's maybe?"
"Already headed there," Dean promised. He turned on the music.
...
"Okay, so here's a question." Alex leaned over the front seat in between Sam and Dean. "Demons can't cross a salt line, right? So, what kinds of salt? I mean they can't cross rock salt, table salt, but what about non NaCl salts? CaCl2, LiCl? Or, what percent of salt? Salt water?"
"Is this what you think about?"
"It's serious problem." Alex said humorously. After a short pause, she added, "What if there were some way to, like, bless the air, so demons couldn't come in. Ooh. What if we put holy water in a humidifier? Would that make the air holy? Keep the demons out?"
Both Sam and Dean were silent for a minute. Then both glanced back at her. "I don't know." Sam slowly admitted. "Maybe, I guess."
"So basically, we get a cheap humidifier, carry it around to the motels, and we have no more demon problems. Think about it. If it works, no more demons sneaking up if we're asleep. They'd just kind of scream and maybe fall down in pain? Or maybe it wouldn't hurt that bad. Just enough to cause unwanted discomfort? It's kind of like acid to them, isn't it?"
"Wow you talk a lot." Dean turned his eyes back to the road.
"It took you this long to figure it out?" Alex teased him gently.
...
January 24th, 2010
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
They arrived at Bobby's early in the evening. Alex jumped out of the car, hurrying up the steps. "Bobby? It be Alex."
"Alex?" Bobby's voice sounded from the inside room. "You okay?"
"Course I'm okay." Alex walked into the study. "Sam and Dean are here too. Sammy's got a lead on the Colt."
"Stop calling me Sammy." Sam entered, threatening her lightheartedly.
"Sammy."
"You got a lead, eh?" Bobby broke up their fighting.
"Yeah. Demon named Crowley. Alex thinks she remembers him."
Alex nodded. "Crossroads demon. Or at least, was crossroads demons. He's got the Colt."
"Anything else you know about him?"
"Nothing that'll help."
"Anything will help," Bobby reminded her.
Alex sighed, screwing up her face in concentration. "Scottish," she finally said.
"Scottish?" Sam sighed, sitting down in a chair. "That's the best you got?"
The girl shrugged. "Sorry. Told you it wouldn't help."
"Cas is out looking for him too," Dean chimed in, entering the room. "Hey Bobby."
"Hey boy. Happy birthday, and whatnot." The older hunter gave a small nod of acknowledgment. "So, where did you get this lead from?"
Sam and Dean exchanged a glance, while Alex beamed. "You know the books, Supernatural? Now get this: Supernatural convention. Fans, books, souvenirs. They even had t-shirts. It was epic."
"I'm not sure I'd use the word 'epic' to describe it," Dean began hesitantly.
"Well, there was that bad ghost who turned out to be the good ghost. We burned the good ghost and the three evil kid ghosts tried to scalp everyone." Alex shrugged. "But apart from that."
"What?" Bobby looked up at Dean.
"Ooh!" Alex interrupted. "And we met Gabriel. I like Gabriel. Except he threw me into a wall."
"Wait. Gabriel, as in the archangel Gabriel?" Bobby looked shocked.
"Oh yeah. He's been masquerading as the Trickster. Surprise." She let out a quiet laugh. "Mystery Spot. That was clever."
Sam kicked her in the shins, and Dean cuffed her on the head. "Ow," she complained. "Well I thought it was clever."
"Start from the beginning." Bobby crossed his arms. Alex opened her mouth, but he cut her off. "Not you. Sam and Dean. I can't understand half the stuff you talk about."
Alex huffed, but knew he was telling the truth. She fell silent and listened to Sam and Dean.