Alice is a small whirlwind of nervous yet contained energy.
Sam has watched her for a couple of hours now, as she took to their library, plucking books off the shelves with fervor. Lining the table with her selections.
She thought it would be a good time to do some research-nice and distracting. And their books caught her eye from day one.
Her expression was bashful when she asked Sam if he would mind if she perused the library. He had smiled kindly, saying she is more than welcome to help herself to anything in the bunker, which put her at ease.
When he'd asked if she was looking for anything in particular, she told him she wanted to see if anything stood out that could give some idea as to what she is...it was clear now that she wasn't simply a seer. Also, she wanted to educate herself in general, wanted to be up on hunter lore, wanted to be able to be helpful to her boys.
Having Sam so close was comforting. She was determined not to let Lucifer send her into a panic. With Cas gone, he was being quite vocal.
Sam paid attention to her body language. Could decipher when Lucifer would say something particularly grating-she would twitch slightly, steady herself, sometimes closing her eyes for a moment. Her will endeared him to her all the more.
Reaching up to one of the higher shelves, she sways, her knees threatening to buckle. Sam is scanning her selections, but catches her faltering out of the corner of his eye. He's up at once, one hand on her arm, the other on the small of her back.
"Hey, Ali...how long has it been since you've eaten something?"
She looks up at him, trembling slightly. "I guess it's been a while...but this feels more like an anxiety attack." she laughs quietly, at a clip. Somewhat embarrassed.
Sam scoops her up in a hug. "It's okay, little one. You're okay." He brushes her hair aside, strokes her face. She rests her face against his palm. Takes a few deep breaths, dropping to the floor on crossed legs. He follows her lead, pulling her into his lap. Her head now against his chest, back towards him.
He continues to pet her lovingly, eyes focused on the soft, pale skin of her neck. He kisses it briefly, then moves his lips to her cheek, not wanting to cross any boundaries.
It's not lost on him that she was the one initially worried about making him uncomfortable with her affection.
His lips on her skin makes her shiver. She presses against him instinctively, shallow breaths evening out. Her hands go to his thighs, palms rubbing them gently. There is a soft vibration making it's way through her body, bordering on being intoxicating.
Lucifer's banter has stopped, has bled away not unlike it does when Cas is near.
The vibration becomes a lullaby of sorts. She sees soft white light in her mind, filtering down from some celestial place to the crown of her head. It soon washes through her entire body.
Her touch becomes more steady, more intent, without her realizing. Sam has been running his hands over her arms, down her sides, his touch at first soothing, then becoming needy. His eyes have been closed. Upon opening them, he sees soft golden light beaming around her, emanating from her skin. It is warm, he can feel it brushing against him, quiet and delicate.
"Ali…", he breathes, marveling at her.
She turns around to face him slowly, holding her arms out, watching herself glow. She looks to him, as if for an answer.
"Sam...I don't know what's happening…".
He moves to kiss her, and she meets him halfway. Their lips meeting tentatively, then more confident, hungry. They share the same breath, his hands going up into her hair, before retracing their steps-his thumb brushing over her lips, passionate, shaking.
He leans back, pulling her with him, hands all over.
They don't notice, but her light now encompasses most of the room.
111111111111111
Dean, Jack, and Cas pull onto a dead end street about a mile from the dilapidated building.
It was only a two hour drive from the bunker-not comforting to any of them.
The air smelled of stale smoke. Dean half expected to find the structure smoldering.
"Cas, you alright?", Dean inquires.
Jack closes his eyes, searching for his biological Father.
"I'm fine, Dean. Thanks." But Cas wasn't fine. He was already antsy from being away from Alice, and he wasn't used to the feeling.
He had kissed her before they departed. The gesture had set both their hearts ablaze, although it was brief-the others were watching. Sam was watching. It didn't bother Cas, only served to make him more aware. He felt no competition toward his brother. In fact, in a peculiar way, he felt closer to him.
"I don't feel him", Jack reports, frustrated.
They continue their trek until they reach the warehouse. They make their way to the back entrance, checking for traps, listening for any sign of life.
The door is unlocked. Dean draws his gun as they enter. It's dark inside, the scent of something previously burning still apparent.
There are aisles of empty shelving, old rusty machinery, a rotted assembly belt that snakes through the first floor.
They come to the other side of the massive room and are met with double doors, paint chips peeling away from the wood. The fallen bits crackle as the boys crush them beneath their feet.
The doors open to a large empty hall. They're unable to see the end of the structure. They round a corner and the floor dips down considerably, enough to feel a change in temperature.
Another door. Inside there's been a devil's trap painted on the floor. This room is enclosed with wooden boards. Someone has painted the back wall with words.
"Getting warmer, fellas. Coincidentally, so am I."
"Son of a bitch", Dean spits.
"So, he was here. And he knew we would be, too.", Cas sighs.
"Did he want Crowley to get tipped off?", Jack asks, tracing the red letters with his fingertips.
"Maybe", Cas replies.
"Probably", Dean adds bitterly. "The question is why."
