Alex didn't bother to start getting out of the Impala after it pulled to a stop in the parking lot of an abandoned industrial plant. Rather, she stayed exactly where she was, in the backseat with her knife calmly in hand. Sam and Dean, however, did get out. And Dean waited for Sam to pull the furious looking creature that had been perched on the seat beside Alex the entire ride there, her knife ready to plunge into its throat if it thought about trying anything funny.
Dean knocked sharply on the window by her head, and Alex rolled it down. "You coming?"
"No." Alex lined her blade back up along her wrist and watched it disappear before turning her gaze to his. "I'm trying to not be involved. Especially after the last run we made." The last time they'd done this, they'd handed over another skinwalker, and the insults and harsh hatred that had spilled from its mouth still made her flinch when she merely thought about them.
Knowing precisely why she wasn't joining in this time, Dean grunted and said, "Give us a minute and we'll be back then." His eyes were already locked on the waiting SUV, which was parked not too far away with two men standing outside waiting. Demons, Alex knew from the sulfur that she could smell on the breeze blowing their way.
She gave a thumbs up and began messing with her phone, responding to a message Avery had sent her way not that long ago. She kept her attention on it as the Winchesters exchanged the prisoner and words, and when they came back no more than a handful of minutes later, both looked rather unhappy. Alex didn't blame them. She wasn't happy about this arrangement either.
A frown had encompassed Alex's face by the time Sam and Dean were settled in the car, and she declared before either could say anything to her, "I'm going to kill Bobby."
"Why? What'd he do?" asked Dean, propping his elbow on the back of the front seat to twist and look at her. "He okay?"
"Oh, he's fine. He let Avery go out on a hunt. Alone." She scowled at her phone, reading the small explanation Avery had sent her. "Jody came in with a small ghost issue and Bobby thought Avery could handle it on her own."
"Didn't he say she's been doing that for a while now?" Sam checked, confused as to why she was annoyed.
"Yes, but I politely asked them to stop, seeing as word might be spreading that we're kidnapping random supernatural creatures and handing them over to Crowley," pointed out Alex with a heavy sigh. "I didn't tell them that last bit, mind you. Just that they needed to avoid hunts for now, that we upset a couple of the higher-ups and they might be looking for someone to use against us."
Dean muttered his approval regarding both her request and her explanation, while Sam just looked mildly annoyed, though Alex couldn't for the life of her imagine why he was annoyed. It was a little irritating, she couldn't help but think, that Sam could feel emotions like that, but couldn't understand why they were so concerned about Bobby and Avery.
"Ah, Avery's a tough girl," said Dean, starting the Impala. Alex listened to the purr of the engine with some satisfaction. "She'll be fine, Alex."
"She better be," muttered Alex darkly. "I'm not losing anyone. Not again."
She had that goddamn whiskey in her hand.
For some reason, it was the only thing that was running through Dean's head. They'd returned to a temporary base they'd set up for a few days, deciding it worthwhile to stick to this general area as they recovered from a tiring series of hunts. The rugaru they'd handed over to Crowley had only been one of several that had taken place in the general area. Apparently, no hunter had come through to clean up as of late.
He really ought to have been thinking of other things. Like Lisa, or Sam's missing soul, or what they were going to do about their deal with Crowley, who was still pissed off with what they'd done regarding the Alpha skinwalker.
Dean really should have been thinking of all that.
Not the way that damn whiskey had tasted when she'd drunkenly kissed him - something she didn't even remember properly.
Lisa, he told himself, forcing his mind onto her. He felt guilty. He had a girlfriend and had no business remembering things like that.
Yet the taste lingered on his tongue, enough so that he grew irritable and threw his anger at something other than what it was really about. "Screw it," he declared, catching his companions off guard. Alex looked at him inquisitively, glass raised to her mouth. Sam merely arched a brow. "I'm done. We've been going on these Crowley runs, and it's not getting us anywhere."
"Dean," Sam said, trying to placate his irritation, but Dean cut him off.
"I mean, the only thing that's really changed since we started is that I now need a daily shower to get rid of all the demon stink," snarled Dean, and Alex's lips twitched as she lowered her glass. "Don't," he snapped, pointing warningly at her. "Don't say anything."
She held her free hand up in surrender, and Sam sighed as he folded his arms. "Okay, you're right," he said with enough biting sarcasm that Alex frowned at him in disapproval. "Let's go with Plan B. Oh, yeah, wait. We don't have one. So, until we do, we're stuck working for Crowley. It's what we've gotta do if we want my soul back, right?"
Alex swirled the whiskey in her glass lazily, her smile vanishing, and Dean knew she was thinking exactly as he was. They'd had this conversation several times over the last few weeks. "Do you even want it back?" Dean asked.
Alex rose to her feet as Sam scowled, not wanting to be part of this argument. It was the same one they'd had time and time again over the last few weeks, as Dean grew worried that his brother was growing increasingly reluctant to actually allow them to find a way to retrieve his soul. At least, he initially thought that she'd risen to leave their argument. He quieted when a low growl began to rumble in her chest. "Dean," she interrupted, and Sam and Dean forgot about their initial problem and focused on the new one. Without a moment's pause, Dean had a gun in his hand and gestured for Sam to go through one archway that led into a dining room. Sam, his own gun readied, nodded and did so. Alex was sent up a flight of stairs to check the second floor. Dean turned and started down the other half of the first floor, crossing through the living room.
He'd been looking for signs of danger for a matter of two, maybe three minutes when he heard a loud crash come from above his head. Dean's head snapped back. Alex. He darted back for the stairs as a blood-curdling scream was heard, echoing throughout the house.
Dean rounded a corner and was met by something hard and heavy to the side of his head, effectively knocking him out.
Alex hated the fact that she couldn't stop shaking. She hated that she couldn't stop feeling fear as it crept endlessly through her veins. That her stomach was doing flip-flops as the possessed woman only feet away impatiently waited for the Winchesters, who'd been tied down into two rickety old chairs, to wake up. The smug demon's eyes kept darting to Alex with delight, as if she knew something Alex didn't.
Alex didn't like it. In fact, she almost liked it less than the silver that seared at her skin, binding her in ridiculously heavy chains and trapping her to the floor. One small movement earned a lick of fire down her spine and the smell of burning flesh. And, to make matters worse, she was chained behind the Winchesters, indicating that they wanted to unnerve them with the fact that one of their team wasn't immediately capable of being seen.
A soft groan reassured her that the pair weren't too badly hurt. Thank God. The last thing they needed was a dead Winchester. She'd dealt with that enough to last her a lifetime and then some. A glance over told her Sam had come to first. His head lolled for a moment before he quickly got himself together and stared at the demons that littered the room. There weren't many; the woman and then two or three others. Had they not been caught off guard, Alex was confident they'd have won this fight.
His gaze lingered on the smirking woman, who fingered the blade in her hand. Alex bit back a snarl, furious that her favored weapon was in the hands of a demon who was clearly not an ally. Not that any demon was an ally. Sam said nothing, only glared.
It wasn't long before Dean came to, too. The moment he was awake, he was tugging at his bindings, swearing under his breath. Despite their predicament, Alex couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at the corners of her mouth upon hearing a familiar hiss of "son of a bitch."
"What now?" Dean muttered irritably to Sam, wincing. Alex could see a small trickle of dried blood on the side of his head. He'd been hit hard enough to be concerned about a concussion.
"I think I know who you can ask," was Sam's answer, gaze never leaving the woman. Her smile widened when Dean called her an evil bitch.
She sauntered a few steps closer, twirling the knife in her hands. "Keep sweet talking me," purred the demon, eyes twinkling. "This could go a whole new direction."
Dean stiffened. "Where'd you get that?"
"Stole it off a skinwalker," she hummed proudly, looking down at the knife in her hand. "Cute one, too."
Alex rolled her eyes. God, she hated demons. Ignoring the pain of silver burning her flesh, she shifted so that the chains that downed her jingled and clattered together. She let a growl thunder in her chest, too, though that was meant for the demon - up until the demon standing over her grinned maliciously and nailed her in the gut with a boot. Her growl became a breathless wheeze and aggravating whimper as the silver was shifted.
Still, she saw Dean's shoulders relax just a little, even as he said darkly through clenched teeth, "Meg."
Meg laughed and held her arms wide, beaming at him. "In the flesh. What should we do now that I'm here, hm?" Dean made a suggestion that had her grinning widely and laughing. "Kinky. I like it. A little conversation first, if you don't mind. Now." She stretched out her arm, the knife caressing the underside of Dean's chin. "Where's your boss?"
Sam eyed the knife. Even without a soul or a care in the world - for Alex really didn't think he'd feel any loss if she or Dean were killed - he looked a little wary of the black blade Meg now held. "You think we work for somebody?" At least he wasn't an idiot, spilling everything to a demon they knew for a fact they couldn't trust.
"I happen to know for a fact you've been juggling Crowley's orphans." Meg flashed her teeth in another smile though it looked more like she was bearing them. "Now. Where is he?"
"Don't know," Sam told her. "Don't care."
Two honest answers that Meg didn't believe. Her eyes flashed warningly. "You've been working for him for months."
"Doesn't mean we get facetime."
Meg shook her head, humming in disapproval. Alex wrinkled her nose in disgust when Meg straddled Dean's lap, clicking her tongue and pressing just barely against his throat with the knife. Blood slid down the column of his neck. "Where's he taking all those things you snatch up for him? I bet you an all-day sucker that's where his Majesty's holed up." Dean said nothing, simply holding still to avoid making the cut on his neck worse. "Okay," Meg seethed, "officially over the foreplay. Satisfy me, or I satisfy myself."
Sam laughed.
Swallowing thickly against the knife at his throat, Dean rasped, "Something funny, Sammy?'
"Yeah. Meg." Alex couldn't see the look on Sam's face, but she was willing to bet he was smiling. Broadly. "Don't worry, she can't do jack squat. She's totally screwed, Dean." Meg scowled and pressed the knife a little harder against Dean's skin. Dean flinched. "Look at her. She's furious. If she could kill you, she'd have done it by now. She's running. Judging by the level of flop sweat on you, you're running from Crowley. Makes sense, right? Crowley would want to hunt down all the Lucifer loyalists now that he's the big man on campus."
Meg sneered at him, her dark eyes flashing with frustration. "How would you know?"
"It's what I'd do." Sam was honest about that little fact, too, blurting it out without hesitation. "She can't kill us," he said, turning his head to look at Dean. "She needs us to get her to Crowley so she can stick that knife in his neck. It's him or her."
Alex couldn't help the strained laugh that bubbled free. "I hope they both lose," she spat.
Meg paused in her focus on the boys to point the knife in Alex's direction. "I'd shut up, puppy dog. He wants you more than he wants me." Alex bared her teeth in retaliation, and Meg's smirk widened. "It's not every day a skinwalker kills their Alpha. Forget the fact that you did it; what did that do to you, little Soldier?" she crooned, and Alex stiffened, clamping her mouth shut.
"Leave her alone," barked Dean, and Meg only laughed again.
"Aw," she crooned, tracing the knife's point along his cheekbone. Dean instinctively leaned away. "How cute. Protecting your little pet. What's your point, Sam?" she said, looking at Sam beneath her eyelashes, amused.
"Work with us." Dean sputtered and Alex snorted loudly. Sam ignored them both, saying urgently as Meg perked up with interest "We'll hand you Crowley with a bow. One one condition: we come with you and you help us wring a little something out of him before you hack him to bits." Meg cocked her head, clearly interested, and Sam said smoothly, "It doesn't matter what it is. Question is, can you get us what we need?"
"I apprenticed under Alastair in Hell, just like your brother." Meg's cruel gaze turned on Dean, who flinched at the name. "So, Dean. Can I make Crowley do whatever I want?"
Dean's voice was hoarse. "Yeah. She can."
Meg smiled. Had she been anything but a demon, she would have been pretty. "It's a deal. Hugs and puppies all around. I'll even throw in a little present." Without hesitation, as if unafraid of what Dean might do with it, she pressed Alex's knife into his hand and promptly climbed off of him. "Come on," she ordered the other demons, sweeping from the room without hesitation.
Alex snarled when the demon keeping guard over her gave her a final kick that drove the breath right out of her. But when they were gone, Dean went to work, using the knife with care to saw the ropes that bound him away. When he was free, he immediately rocked to his feet and spun around. Alex smiled through bared teeth at him, her body aching from silver burns.
"Hold on," he told her and went to work on cutting the ropes binding his brother. When Sam was up, Dean tucked her knife into his jacket and swiftly walked over to free Alex. "We're keeping these," he decided as he eyed the silver chains, kneeling beside Alex to figure out the best way to free her. Alex grumbled, but didn't disagree.
With great care, he began removing them, and Alex muttered her gratitude when he finished. She wiped blood from the corner of her mouth and simply sat there as he dragged the chains away. She breathed heavily for a few moments, and then groaned in disgust the burns that laced her skin. She'd take forever to heal from the silver.
"Let me see," muttered Dean as he returned, and she eyed him for a moment, puzzled by his gruff concern. Nevertheless, she let him peer at her arms and neck, where most of the chains had been wrapped.
"Silver," she rasped, and he grunted in acknowledgement. He called for Sam, who tracked down Dean's duffel bag. He brought it over with ease and Alex shifted until she was leaning against the nearest wall, grumbling about demons getting the better of her.
A snarl escaped her when Dean began cleaning the wounds. As he carefully wiped at the burns, doing his best to remove any silver that might have lingered, for there appeared to have been some kind of dust coating the chains the demons had used, he asked Sam harshly, "What the hell, Sam?"
Sam made a small gesture, standing close by and not bothering to offer his help. "Dean, look, you wanted to screw over Crowley. Merry Christmas."
"You want to work with a demon? Again?"
"Not in his defense," rasped Alex, who was anything but pleased with working with Meg, "but what's the difference? Crowley, Meg. Both are demons, Dean." She really didn't care who they worked with. She still intended to kill them both.
"She killed Ellen and Jo."
Alex flinched at the memory. She couldn't blame his anger. The reminder was enough to turn her away from helping Meg at all. They'd be better off letting Crowley eliminate Meg. But still… "I think," she told him, "we ought to trust Meg more right now. She's scared. Cornered animals bite. Besides, she knows something we don't about what went down with the Alpha skinwalker."
Dean scowled. He knew she was right. Whatever Meg had meant about the Alpha skinwalker was a problem, and it worried them both immensely. Sam, on the other hand, didn't care. He said bluntly, "You can't look at this emotionally. We need her."
Dean looked ready to combust as Alex warned Sam, "She's going to fuck us over, Sam."
"Of course." Now, they both paused to stare at him. Sam looked exasperated, as if he couldn't believe they thought he'd not considered such a thing. "Which is why we'll screw her over first. Meg and her little groupies are dead the second we're done with them."
"If they don't kill us," pointed out Alex as Dean finished up. He offered her a hand and she took it, letting him yank her to her feet with care.
"They won't." Sam looked proud of himself then, smug and satisfied with whatever plan he'd come up with. "We're bringing insurance: Castiel."
Alex stared at him for a long moment, and then rolled her eyes. "Like he's going to be of any help," she rumbled, turning her face away. She was growing uneasy with this topic of discussion - with everything they were dealing with at all. Her stomach clenched uncertainly at the idea of working with Castiel anywhere near the vicinity of Crowley, regardless of what side they were on. She had no doubts in her mind that the pair were still working together. Which, she realized with a glance at Dean, she still needed to warn him about.
"He's better than nothing," said Sam. "I'll call him, you guys start packing."
Alex blinked, unsure if she liked that she was being ordered around by the younger Winchester at the moment. Still, she shrugged. It would give her a chance to talk a few things over with Dean, something she'd been needing to do for a while now. She could give him that warning, too.
As Sam stepped outside, Dean grumbled and went to work. "Go get the duffels, would you?" he muttered, and Alex murmured her agreement. When she'd come back with them, she was limping a little, grimacing at the lingering sting of silver burns. She offered them, faltering. What would Dean think, she couldn't help but fret. What would Dean Winchester think when she told him more on what she'd done when he'd been with Lisa over the course of a long year?
So, she started off with what she thought to be simple. "Dean," she said quietly, "you know I didn't have a clue about Sam being back, right?"
Dean stilled, having been grabbing a shotgun that had been laying out, half-cleaned. He'd decided to finish up with it before packing, figuring it better to be prepared. His mouth pressed into a hard line before his green eyes slowly turned on her. "Yeah," he said finally, clearly recognizing that the question was only the start of a hell of a lot more. "Figured as much."
Alex bit her lip, unable to hold his gaze. "I worked with them both - Castiel and Crowley. But I didn't know that Crowley brought Sam back. Nor do I know how. I wish I did. It'd make our lives a lot easier." She snorted softly, truly wishing she could tell Dean more about that part of everything. "And I was looking for Purgatory. I thought if I could understand it better, learn more about it and where it was, maybe I could keep myself from ending up there."
Dean looked lost now. "Where the hell is all this coming from?" he demanded, wary.
Alex wove her fingers together, uncertain. "We're working with them both. It's made me nervous, alright? And I don't want anything bad you hear to come from them. It needs to come from me."
She could have sworn a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was a small one, but a smile nonetheless. Dean turned back to his work, finishing up with the shotgun in silence. Finally, clicking the safety on and depositing it securely in his bag, he said, "I told you we'd figure it out. Wouldn't mind knowing what Cas was doing looking for Purgatory though."
It wasn't a response she expected, nor one that really made that much sense. Still, her shoulders loosened and Alex offered a tentative smile, relieved. "Thank you," she said sincerely.
They finished up quickly and when they found Sam again, they were both surprised to find that he'd actually somehow managed to summon Castiel, who looked rather upset and irritable about being there. Alex rolled her eyes, unsurprised, but didn't say anything as Dean looked at the angel in surprise and said to Sam, "I owe you a chicken dinner, Sammy. What happened?"
Sam glanced at Castiel, and Alex could feel that he was lying when he said simply, "No big deal. This is what friends do for each other."
Dean dug furiously through the cabinet that Alex had been sniffing at only a moment before, ears shoved forward in interest. She'd woofed quietly to get his attention, and he'd come over immediately. Much to both their annoyance, however, there was nothing useful, and she flicked her ears back. She quickly moved on as he closed the cabinet. Dean moved on, too, just as irritated as she was.
When Castiel had come up empty-handed in the search for Crowley's location, Sam had suggested they check out Samuel's place. Surely, he'd encouraged, there might be something in the compound that could help them out. If Samuel was so close with Crowley, he had to know something. As much as they'd hated the idea of going back there, Dean and Alex had agreed. They didn't really have any other option at this point in time.
So, here they were, digging through Samuel's study for clues on Crowley. Dean didn't miss the numerous looks of suspicion and irritation fired at Castiel, who refused to look at her. There was no way, Alex had whispered to Dean as they'd climbed out of the Impala, just before she'd changed forms, that Castiel couldn't come up with something. It was impossible. But Castiel was quiet if he did know anything he wasn't telling them, and as much as Dean trusted her...Alex wasn't the most trustworthy source of information when it came to the angel.
Alex suddenly growled, catching their attention. All three spun around in time to see Samuel appear in the doorway, eyes narrowed with agitation as he looked between each of them. "Can I help you?" he asked warily. "What do you want?"
Dean exchanged a quick look with Sam, who was entirely unhelpful. Alex couldn't offer a good explanation either, her fur brushing against his knee as she abandoned sniffing a cabinet to stand close. Dean didn't move, unconcerned. She'd stated multiple times how nervous Samuel made her as a skinwalker. Dean understood that wariness. He was confident Samuel would prefer to kill Alex if he was given the choice. "We want to know where Crowley is," he said finally, voice hard.
Samuel retorted, "If I knew, why would I tell you?" He threw Alex a hateful glare when she growled low in her throat, only confirming Dean's thoughts.
"You're our grandfather," Dean said bluntly even as Sam spoke up.
"Samuel, I'm gonna get my soul back," Sam said confidently. Samuel snorted, demanding to know who said he'd get it back, and Sam's eyes remained locked on his grandfather as he lifted his chin and answered. "Me."
"Look," drawled Samuel. "I'd like to help, but I'm sorry."
Alex's fur bushed up, lips pulling back in a snarl, and Dean didn't bother to shush her when she growled again. He was startled, too. This was Sam's soul - his grandson's. And when Dean pointed that out, Samuel simply shrugged and shook his head. "What is wrong with you?" Dean snapped, fighting to control his temper. He wanted nothing more than to start swinging at Samuel Campbell. "Do you want to keep working with Crowley?" When Samuel refused to say anything, Dean glanced at Castiel. "Cas, could you give us a minute?"
Castiel vanished immediately after giving a curt nod, and when Dean glanced at Alex, she inclined her head, eyes sharp as flint. He read the demand there. She wanted to know what was said later. He'd tell her, of course, and nodded curtly to show that. Alex flicked her ear once, cast Samuel a final distrustful look, and then slid from the room, purposefully knocking into Samuel as she trotted past. He swore colorfully, disgusted.
When they were gone, Dean made a frustrated gesture with his hand. "We're your blood, Samuel. But if you don't want to help us, we can't make you. Just tell us why? What the hell is Crowley holding over you?" When Samuel frowned deeply, Dean said coldly, "You owe us a reason at least."
After a few moments of debate, Samuel sighed heavily. He motioned them over as he dug in his pocket and Sam glanced at Dean. Dean reluctantly approached after a quick nod, hoping that his soulless brother wouldn't turn around and punch him if he decided what Samuel was saying was worth it. Samuel extended a small square to him, and Dean took it, peering at the picture he held carefully. Surprise flickered over his face. "Mom?" he muttered, recognizing the pretty blonde woman in the image.
"He's going to give her back to me," admitted Samuel.
"Crowley's going to bring Mom back from the dead?" Dean would have said it was impossible, but Sam was standing right beside him and Samuel right in front.
Samuel glared at him, a challenging look on his creased face. "You tell me you don't want her back." Dean didn't answer, an ache in his chest. Of course he wanted her back. There wasn't a day that he didn't remember the few happy memories he could. "The one difference between us is that you know how to live without her."
Dean clenched his jaw. He knew exactly what Samuel was feeling. It was how he'd felt when he'd brought Sam back the first time, and look how that had turned out. "Do you really think Crowley is gonna make good here?" he demanded, making a wild gesture to the space around them. When Samuel indicated himself and then Sam as proof, Dean shook his head. "Trust me, don't go down that road. Stop trying. It's not going to go anywhere good. Samuel, I know we've had our differences, but I'm your grandson, and I'm telling you this is wrong. For so many reasons."
Samuel's dark eyes burned with anger. "Hypocrite."
Dean shrugged. Maybe. "I'm asking you to learn from our mistakes. Doing this...this is how the bad guys get us every time. It's our Achilles heel. Apparently, it runs in the family. We'll figure something else out. Okay?"
"I'm sorry, Dean," Samuel said, shaking his head in disagreement, "but I-"
Dean, desperate, tried another tactic. "Fine, bring her back. But what are you going to tell her? You going to tell her you made a deal with a demon? That you wouldn't help out her sons?"
Samuel lost his temper. "That's enough!" barked the older man, and Dean almost felt a little bad for him. He knew precisely what Samuel was feeling, even if Samuel refused to believe it. Samuel wouldn't look at them anymore, just tiredly pointed at the doorway. "Get out."
Dean glanced at Sam, who shrugged. They couldn't exactly dig around anymore, and since Samuel was clearly staying stuck to Crowley's side of things… They gathered their lockpicks and other such tools and then headed out. Dean spared his grandfather one final look over his shoulder as they did so and found Samuel looking at the picture of Mary in his hand with a mournful expression. He found himself hoping that it meant he might come around later, though Dean decided to not count on it.
Alex had taken on her other form, and was waiting for them at the Impala when they stepped outside. She sat half-in the car, her legs crossed at the ankle as she waited for them to come out. Castiel stood on the other side of the car, looking mildly annoyed, and Dean got the feeling that Alex had said something. He grimaced. He shouldn't have sent her out unsupervised.
But her gaze turned on him, inquiring, and Dean said bluntly as he stopped by the Impala, "Samuel's not going to help us."
Alex snorted. "Did you ever think he would?" She groaned, running her hands down her face. Dean studied her. Admittedly, it was still a little strange to see that the scars that she'd fretted over for so long were gone. Now, rather than the scars, the first thing to catch one's attention were the unnaturally icy blue of her eyes. Dean mused that he'd not noticed such a thing in other skinwalkers; it was as if Alex had been born to be what she was.
"Earth to Dean," Alex drawled, smirking at him as she waved her hand in front of his face. Her accent was sharp with amusement, and he jerked back to reality. He scowled at her instinctively, but she only grinned wider. She was laughing at him. "What are we doing now? Sam just asked you like four times. If, you know, you're done staring at me."
Dean silently swore at himself. He ripped his gaze away from Alex entirely and looked at his brother, who was lifting a brow at him impatiently. Grumbling, Dean said, "Let's just go back and regroup. We'll do some research. See if we can figure out what Alex remembers about where Crowley was."
"We didn't find anything last time Alex tried," complained Sam as he reluctantly slid into the back seat, giving Alex the front for a change. Alex beamed, merely swinging her legs into the car as Castiel merely vanished, deciding against riding with them. She was clearly delighted by this. Dean was, too. He was tired of hearing Alex grumbling under her breath about him.
"Maybe we just missed something," was all Dean said in response.
Alex could hear the clicking of the pen Dean held as it tapped on the table, his gaze locked on the newspapers in front of him as she let herself into the house they'd been using. Everyone glanced at her before returning to their work, and Alex paused to look at them all. Dean's eyes were harsh and distant, signaling that he wasn't really seeing what he was supposed to be reading. Alex wasn't surprised. He'd been struggling to come up with something since Samuel had let them down with his bunker. Sam, on the other hand, was burying himself in research on the laptop, working furiously to try and find something on Crowley. Alex eyed him a little suspiciously, wondering if he'd really go through with taking his soul back in the end.
She wouldn't believe it until she saw it.
And then there was Castiel. He was oh, so helpfully sitting on a couch in front of a TV that was quietly playing some kind of show, and when she glanced briefly at the screen, the bag she'd held hit the floor and she squawked in horror. Dean and Sam whirled around immediately, both half-reaching for weapons they kept on their person, but faltered when they realized nothing was amiss. Alex only glowered at Castiel in disapproval, her face tinted a light red.
"That is not something," she seethed, flustered as she stomped over and switched the TV off, "you watch around other people, Castiel!"
Castiel only frowned, rather puzzled. "It was on," he said simply, as if it had never occurred to him to switch to another channel, and Alex threw her hands in the air. When Dean, still looking at her with some confusion, raised a brow questioningly, she glared back at him. Don't ask.
"What'd you bring back?" he asked instead, wisely going along with her silent demand, and Alex puffed out a loud breath.
"Sandwiches. Yes, I got the double for you." She knew without asking what each of them liked, and she grabbed the bag from where it had fallen, passing them their sandwiches. Dean fell upon his like a starved man, drawing a hint of an amused snort from her as she dropped to sit on the floor near the table rather than on the couch with Castiel. She unwrapped her sub, intending to take a bite - and then stilled, sharp ears catching what none of them heard.
She dropped the sandwich, snapping her head around to look at the door she'd just come through. She growled thunderously, and had she been in her other form, her hackles would have been as high as they could be. "Someone's coming," she rumbled, and Dean set his own sandwich aside when a knock echoed her words. "Can't smell them from here."
Dean grunted in acknowledgement, rising to his feet. Sam, cautiously, set aside his own sandwich that he'd barely nibbled at, and leaned back in his chair. He slid a hand casually back to the knife hidden in his shirt and nodded, indicating he was ready, and when Dean was sure Castiel was paying attention to the potential danger, he opened the door.
They all relaxed somewhat, albeit not entirely, when Samuel was revealed, looking mildly annoyed. Alex merely eyed him suspiciously, picking her sandwich back up and tearing a bite out of it. She didn't take her gaze off of the older hunter for an instant. With their luck, he'd have brought Crowley along with him.
Dean didn't take chances either. He peered outside the door, scanning the area, and then closed the door. Meg and her demon friends were out there, Alex knew. She'd seen them on her way in. They'd chosen to let Samuel approach without joining in the fun. She was sure Samuel wouldn't have as easy a time leaving. "Why are you here, Samuel?" he demanded.
He studied Dean for a good long moment, and then Sam. Neither looked too happy with him. When his attention turned on Alex, she bared half-formed fangs at him in a mocking grin, food and all. Samuel was disgusted and looked away as he said gruffly, "It's what Mary would want. Now, this is what I know." He shoved a hand into his pocket and dragged a folded paper from his pocket. Alex scrambled to her feet as he approached the table, clearing it when he quietly asked them to. Sam grabbed his laptop, Dean his newspapers, and Alex the rest of it. Samuel spread a map out over the table and tapped a spot on it. "Whatever we bag ends up there. That's where he tortures and interrogates 'em. I don't really know what else he does. Only been outside the place, but…"
"It's a death trap," Alex said quietly, and Samuel nodded. She wasn't smiling anymore. Her eyes grew distant as she stared at the spot on the map, having vague recollections of the place. "I've been there before. Not as a prisoner, not to be tortured like the others. The warehouse he kept that vampire Alpha was where he kept me, but I've been to this one. He must have decided to make it his new headquarters."
Samuel nodded again. "Nothing gets in that Crowley doesn't want in, and nothing gets out. Period."
Alex's lips curled into a smug look then. "That's what he said about the other place, too."
Dean cleared his throat. "Well, thanks." He took the map, rolling it up with clear intentions of keeping it. Samuel didn't try to stop him, only watched him for a few moments.
"I wish you wouldn't do this," Samuel said quietly.
"Come with us," suggested Sam instead, and Samuel shook his head.
"I may be soft, but I'm not suicidal," he told them. Without another word, he left as quickly as he'd come, disappearing through the door and leaving them with the maps he'd brought. Alex watched him go, playing with a piece of hair.
When Dean turned to her, she rolled her eyes at his hopefully expectant stare. "Yes," she drawled, sighing with some amusement. "I should be able to help at least somewhat with the layout of the place, but I'm not promising anything, okay?"
"Something is better than nothing." Dean was firm in that. "Pack up."
It didn't take them long to gather the supplies they'd need. Alex finished inventorying her own supplies within minutes, having ensured to keep prepared just in case they had to head out in this manner. Castiel "helped" Dean, though she got the feeling that the conversation the pair shared didn't go very well. When Dean came back, bag in hand, he was glaring at the angel suspiciously, and Alex didn't blame him. She double-checked the boys' bags, too, when they did a final sweep of the house, and when all was said and done, Sam led the way outside.
Meg was waiting for them outside - alone. Alex questioned to herself how many of those standing with her earlier had been Crowley's underlings. She was practically bouncing as she smiled charmingly at Castiel, purring, "Remember me? I sure remember you, Clarence."
Castiel swept his gaze over her and then the other demons. "Why are we working with these abominations?"
Meg's smile widened, and Dean hastily intervened. "Simmer down. We know where Crowley is."
Her face snapped towards him. "Oh? Do tell."
"So you can just leave us for dead?" challenged Sam, unimpressed as he loaded his bag into the trunk of the Impala. Alex stepped up to drop her bag in, too, and took Dean's from him to do the same. "We'll show you, alright? But we're all going together."
"Oh, God," muttered Alex, already having a good idea of what "going together" was going to look like.
Meg frowned, wrinkling her nose in disapproval as she clearly considered the same idea. "You boys have serious abandonment issues, you know that? I'm just supposed to…what, trust you?"
"No," Sam answered. "You're not that stupid."
Meg grunted. "No," she muttered, annoyed, "I'm not that stupid." She clearly agreed with him, though she wasn't pleased about it. Her eyes shifted between them all and she gave a small scowl. Alex returned it without a moment's hesitation, nearly as annoyed about how the car ride they were about to take was going to go.
Like hell she'd manage to convince Sam to sit in the back.
Luckily, Castiel decided to simply meet them there, meaning Alex only had to spend a significant amount of time with Meg in the back seat. It wasn't much better. Actually, Alex thought she might have preferred Castiel by the end of the ride, simply because at least he didn't talk. Meg muttered about everything and anything, to the point where even Sam looked done with her by the time they spilled out of the Impala.
Alex grabbed Dean by the arm to stop him as Sam made a beeline for the trunk, Meg casually sauntering after him. She searched Dean's gaze seriously, briefly distracted by the wary, frustrated look that suddenly crossed his face before she shook it off and focused back on her initial intentions. "Dean Winchester," she said somewhat darkly, narrowing her eyes into slits. "If you try to make me ride in the backseat with a demon ever again, I'm stealing a car and you'll never see me again. Unless it's your funeral, so I can watch you burn."
Dean's mouth opened for a moment and then closed as he fought to come up with an answer, as distracted by something as she was. Finally, he managed a small grin. "What," he teased, "don't want to hang out with your new best friend?"
Alex gave him a look, tightening her grip on his arm until he swore and pried it free. "I'm a skinwalker," she said blankly. "Not a saint. So don't test me." She gave him a final pointed look, and then went to retrieve her own things, joining Sam at the back of the Impala so that she could get what she needed. She heard Dean chuckling under his breath as he waited for them to move out of the way, and she muttered under her breath about annoying Winchesters as she checked the two guns she pocketed. One held silver bullets, and she ensured to don a new set of gloves she'd gotten so she could use more if needed. The other held iron. She had her favored knife, too, of course, and she was grateful for it as she stepped back, rolling her shoulders.
Sam checked his own weaponry as Dean grabbed his, and Meg watched them all with a smug look on her face. "Where's Clarence?" she asked, smirking cheekily.
"Waiting on us." Alex flashed her teeth, and then started for the building when she caught sight of the angel in question. He'd opened a door to let them inside, and Dean, Sam, and Meg were all right on her heels. She bypassed Castiel without a greeting, even as Castiel frowned and Dean muttered that it seemed oddly easy to get in.
Alex agreed one hundred percent and kept on high alert, nose hard at work. She jolted back a few steps in, nostrils flaring. There were a lot of creatures here, she realized, unable to sort out just what precisely was present. Dozens of things, or at least things that had been there over the course of the last month. Including her own kind, which made her bite her lip nervously. She hoped they dealt with Crowley. After everything he'd done…
God, she hoped they found him.
She grew even more uneasy as they passed a hallway that was lined with what looked like prison cells and bars. Someone - something non-human, Alex would have guessed - was pleading for them to help them as they slid through the hall, and she had to block her ears. Most creatures were not like her, after all, and she was fairly sure that voice sounded relatively familiar.
They'd just entered another hall when she caught the sound, and she stopped dead in her tracks. She hissed at the others to stop, on high alert, and they all did. Castiel was tipping his head to the side, listening as well, and he narrowed his eyes in realization after a long moment. "What is it?" Dean demanded when no one moved or spoke.
Meg heard it then, too. "Here come the guards. Damn it."
The barking and howling finally grew loud enough that they all heard it, and Dean's face went as white as a sheet. He knew the sounds better than any of them did. "Hellhounds," he rasped, backing away. "Go. Go!"
They all took off at a dead run back in the direction they'd come, and Alex's skin crawled at the snarls that came chasing behind them. Her knife seemed to materialize in her hand as she yanked it free, and as Sam ripped a set of doors open and began ushering others inside, she whirled around, bouncing and ready to fight back. Only when Sam had slid inside after them, leaving her alone, did she jolt inside, too. Dean and Meg were ready, slamming the doors shut. Dean wedged an old, rusted pipe into the handles, blocking the door. She shivered when the door was slammed into, barks and howls on the other side signaling the hellhounds had reached them.
"I knew this was a trap," muttered Dean.
"It always is," Alex retorted, scowling when Meg added, "What do you want? A cupcake that says 'I'm right' on top?"
Sam studied the rusted pipe as it bent, unsure. "That won't hold very long. How many hellhounds, Meg?" He glanced over his shoulder, determined. When Alex followed his gaze, she blinked, realizing there was a staircase that led downstairs behind them.
"Lots." How helpful the demon was. "I'll be pulling for you. From Cleveland." When they all looked at her, somewhat confused, Meg shrugged. "I didn't know this was going to happen. Bright side? Them chewing up my meatsuit ought to buy you a few seconds." A smug look crossed her face, and she tipped her head back, as if expecting to leave the body she possessed, only to find that she couldn't. Smugness became confusion.
"A spell," Castiel said calmly. "From Crowley, I think. Within these walls…you're locked inside your body."
Alex cast him a dirty look. "'I think?'" she echoed, and he returned the look with a warning one. He knew as well as she did there was no "thinking" about it. They'd helped inscribe these walls with that spell.
Sam ignored their bickering, withdrawing the demon knife he'd been carrying from his jacket. Dean eyed him, not sure of what he was planning as Sam offered it to Meg. "You can see them. Take this and hold them off," he said without much emotion. "It's our best shot."
"At Crowley," she said warningly. As if she intended to track them down and kill them if they didn't go for Crowley. "Take it and go. You kill the smarmy dick, and I'll hold off the dogs. I just need…" She trailed off, smiling at Castiel. He looked rather confused - especially when she slid a hand around the back of his neck and dragged him close. Castiel opened his mouth to voice his confusion. Meg promptly cut him off by dragging him into a kiss.
"Oh, disgusting," muttered Alex, fighting the urge to retch as Castiel, surprised, returned the kiss with interest. He didn't seem to notice as Meg yanked the angel blade from his trench coat, curling her fingers tightly around the hilt.
"Well," crooned Meg when she pulled back, smirking again. "Don't I feel clean? Okay. Go."
"Is that even going to work on a hellhound?" Dean demanded, already backing towards the stairs.
Meg peered at the blade, shrugged, and turned to face the doors. "We're about to find out. Run!"
Alex grabbed Castiel's arm with a snarl and jerked him forward, shoving him towards the stairwell as Sam took the lead. "Go," she urged, "go." Castiel shook off his confused distraction, peered over his shoulder, and finally seemed to get his focus back. Alex stashed her blade, not trusting Crowley enough to keep it out for more than a few seconds. This was planned. It had to be.
"I can't see jack," complained Dean when they'd thundered down the staircase and reached a new hallway. At least, that's what Alex could barely pick out. She cautiously shoved past Sam, her shoulder bumping his as she tried to peer around. "Alex-"
"Sort of. I can sort of see." She breathed out slowly, trying to cautiously start forward. "It's not very-"
A flash of blinding light exploded further down the hall, and Alex yelped, throwing her hands up to protect her eyes. When it had died away, lights had appeared, lit like little lamps. Alex glanced over her shoulder to check on the others and snarled in frustration. Castiel was gone, and from the looks of it…
"Samuel!" Dean barked, catching sight of his grandfather with a hand pressed over a bloody sigil on the stone wall. "You sold us out?"
"Yes," chirped a voice they all knew well. Alex whipped around, a snarl on her face. Crowley stood there, as immaculate as ever in his suit. He straightened it with a smug look. "And I have to say," added Crowley rather smugly, "best purchase I've made since Dick Cheney." He smiled charmingly. "Been working. Big things. Alas…you'll be too dead to participate. Shame I have to do away with you both. Rather enjoyed your indentured servitude." He snapped his fingers and in a blur of chaos, demons erupted out of seemingly nowhere.
Alex rounded on the two that lunged after her, even as Sam and Dean were attacked as well. Her knife flipped into her hand and she slashed out with it, catching one of the demons across the face. It yelped and reeled back. Alex's panic grew when the other narrowly caught her shoulder, slamming her into the wall so hard her breath was driven from her chest. No, no, no. Not again.
Crowley wouldn't be so quick to let her go this time. She wasn't deaf. "Shame I have to do away with you both." Crowley had no intention of killing her. Not yet, at the very least.
Her panic exploded when she felt the burn of something silver pressing into her wrist. A cuff of some kind. She reeled back and slammed her head into the face of the creature that had come at her. No, not a creature - Samuel. He swore colorfully as he reeled back, backing away. Alex ignored the burn as she lashed out again, blade driven home into the throat of the demon that came at her next. It screamed as it died; Alex barely noticed as she rounded on Crowley himself.
"Alex," Dean shouted in warning, pinned to the ground with a knee in his back. Alex heard the alarm in his voice and whirled around. She stilled when she realized there was a gun aimed at her head. Samuel was back, smearing the blood that poured from his nose with the back of his hand. He clicked the safety off and Alex gave him a grin.
Do it, she dared silently.
Crowley wouldn't let him kill her.
As if reading her mind, however, Samuel snapped the gun around, instead aiming it at Sam. Sam stilled beneath the pair of demons that trapped him to the floor like his brother, and even Dean froze. Alex snarled, furious. She didn't dare move. As much of an ass as Sam could be without his soul…
She wouldn't risk him. Not like this. Not when he and Dean were some of the only family she had left.
"Now then," said Crowley, looking mildly annoyed as he removed a cloth from his pocket and dabbed at the blood that had spattered his suit. His gaze shifted between the three of them. "Shall we?"
"Sam?" was Dean's first word upon finding himself tossed into some kind of cell without his brother. He lifted his voice to a shout, worried about his brother, Alex, and even Castiel. Who knew how long the angel would be gone thanks to Samuel being an absolute dick about all of this. Some kind of grandfather. "Sam?!"
"Over here," his brother's muffled voice answered, and relief crept through his veins. Not much, but some nevertheless. Sam was alive for now. That was what was most important - that and getting his hands on Crowley. And finding their missing skinwalker. And making sure that Castiel was okay, too, though Dean knew he'd been unharmed every other time he was banished to the ends of the world in that way.
Dean ran a hand over his hair, frustrated. He was going to kill Samuel when he got out of this. He was sure of it now. He might not have trusted Samuel entirely, but he'd wanted to. God, had he wanted to trust his own grandfather. Dean just hoped Lisa and Ben were safe, and that no one tried to go after them because he'd been stupid.
He whirled around when a small hatch in the door slid open. He recognized the face that had appeared on the other side and scowled at it. "You want forgiveness?" he barked. "Find a priest."
Samuel didn't seem surprised. "I just want you to understand-"
Dean couldn't help but laugh in disbelief. He and Sam were imprisoned. Alex was likely under a knife again. Castiel was gone with the wind. And Samuel wanted them to understand. "Oh, I understand. You're a liar. You talk about putting blood first - which is funny, by the way, 'cause you sound just like our dad. The difference is he actually did."
"I am putting blood first," Samuel protested, and Dean wished he could slide a hand through the hatch in that door and punch him. "Mary's my blood - my daughter! Don't come at me like I sold you out. You sold out your own mother. It was her or Sam, and you chose Sam. Plain and simple. And a skinwalker on top of it. And you call me a monster."
Dean wondered if Sam was hearing any of this. "You chose a demon over your own grandkids, Samuel."
"See it how you want," sighed Samuel, giving up. "I don't even know what Sam is, and you want me to protect him? You? The skinwalker?" Dean hated the way he said that. As if Samuel was better than them because they'd chosen to trust Alex. "You're all strangers. No, really, tell me, Dean. What are you supposed to be?"
"The guy you never want to see again," said Dean darkly. "I'll make it out of here. Trust me. And the next time you see me, I'll be there to kill you."
"Don't think there's gonna be a next time."
The door opened, and Samuel was right there. Had Dean had his demon knife with him, or Alex's knife, or any knife, he could have killed him. Actually, he didn't even need a knife. He'd use his bare hands. But there were demons, too, and despite Dean's best efforts, he found himself being hauled out of the cell despite having only been there for a few minutes. He fought as hard as he could simply to make it hard for them, because he sure as hell didn't like being manhandled.
He was panting by the time he was shoved into another room. He wrinkled his nose at the stench, taking in the sight of blood and other things all over the walls. Disgusting. He'd never been a fan of dirty spaces.
He whirled around when the door that had slammed shut behind him opened again. This time, two creatures he recognized immediately as ghouls were pushed into the room with him. He took a deep breath, realizing he had nothing to fight against the ghouls with as they grinned, looking excitedly at one another.
"Look," said one hoarsely. "Breakfast."
Dean swore under his breath, hastily looking for a weapon. He came up empty-handed.
God, he hated Crowley.
And ghouls.
He really hated ghouls.
Sam wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, ignoring the taste of coppery blood in his mouth as he stepped back, glancing up briefly to inspect his work. He might not feel much, if anything, but the plan was the plan. Even after everything he'd heard earlier, when Castiel had commented to Dean that it might not be such a good idea to put a soul that had likely been tortured as much as Sam's back in its owner's body, Sam knew that getting Crowley was a priority, and that meant getting others he'd been with out, too.
He had only been waiting a few minutes before the door to his cell opened and a pair of demons stepped inside. He stared hard at them, casually pressed back against the wall at the back of the room. "What did you do with my brother?" he demanded, hoping to get an answer that would make finding Dean easier. Dean first, then Alex. Then maybe Meg. Maybe.
"Oh, you'll find out," laughed one of the demons, sneering. "You're about to join him."
Sam smirked when they stupidly entered the room further and found themselves stuck in place. They snapped their heads down, spinning as if they'd seen the devil's trap he'd painted in his own blood. He grinned when one flinched as a drop of blood landed on the back of his neck. The demon snapped his head back and gaped at the trap painted on the ceiling. "Thanks," said Sam casually, grabbing the rusty old bar he'd managed to rip free moments before they'd entered the cell. He slid past the trap and then ducked out of the cell.
In mere moments, he was jogging down a hall, seeking whatever he could. He heard screaming from somewhere in the warehouse, recognizing the voice. Meg. She could wait. One, she was a demon, and two, he trusted her as far as he could throw her. He needed Dean first. He knew Dean wouldn't turn on him. Castiel might, but Dean wouldn't, and would even defend him against Castiel if necessary. Alex, on the other hand, was a wild card. He couldn't get a read on her.
He'd been hastily searching for a worryingly long five minutes when he heard shouting and snarling. Sam instinctively headed in that direction, faltering outside a cell door. He grinned when he heard a familiar voice shouting, "Frickin' ghouls! Let me go, you son of a bitch!"
There he was.
Sam ripped the door to the room open and found his brother pinned to the floor, kicking and fighting viciously to free himself from the ghouls that were trying to kill and eat him. Sam didn't hesitate to hurl himself into the fight, ripping the one away and staking its heart through the back with his make-shift weapon. The ghoul crumpled with a grunt, and the other was distracted long enough that Sam had the chance to toss the bar to Dean, who staked the second with a bellow of anger.
Shoving the ghoul's body off of him, Dean rolled to his knees with a grimace. "Thanks," he muttered, and Sam only smiled tightly, glancing over his shoulder as silence fell. "Any sign of Alex?"
Sam shook his head. "Heard Meg screaming though."
"Meg can hold out. Alex first." Dean rocked to his feet, scanning his surroundings for other weapons. He weighed the bar in his hand, frowning. Sam guessed his thinking was along the same line as his own. It wouldn't be very useful against demons. Or much else.
As Dean shrugged, deciding the bar would have to do, Sam studied him. There was a significant amount of concern on his face, and when they set off to track down Alex, Dean kept up a near brutally swift pace. Sam didn't really fully understand the urgency. Alex had survived far more dangerous situations before now, she'd survive a little while longer. Still, if Dean was going to do it, he supposed he might as well help, too.
They hunted up and down the warehouse, and Dean grew visibly more agitated the longer it took until finally, Sam grabbed his arm and stopped him, listening. Dean, mid-rant about Crowley, shut his mouth to listen, too. They exchanged a glance when a series of vicious snarling and shrieking and screams echoed from their left.
The pair tore off, following the commotion until they burst through a set of doors. They faltered at the sight before them. Alex stood there, heaving for air, her eyes blazing with deadly enough intent that Dean might have tightened his hand around the bar just a fraction. A slice on her jaw sizzled as if it had been caked in silver, as did a few other wounds, but she seemed relatively unharmed otherwise. Silver chains dangled loosely from her wrists, and Sam questioned how she'd been able to rip free of the chair she'd clearly been tied to. They were heavy chains, and Sam knew for a fact they were heavier than even he would have used against a skinwalker. She was ignoring the way they buried themselves in her skin, and her mouth was coated in red.
At first, Sam thought she might have been forced to swallow silver, but that thought quickly changed when he realized the demon that had been put in charge of her was shrieking and cursing near them, clutching the massive gaping wound Alex had put in the side of his neck. The demon whirled on them and was met with a bar to the face. In an instant, the demon was knocked askew. Sam went to work, pinning it to the ground as Dean tossed him the bar. Sam whispered an exorcism aloud, satisfied when the smoke burst from the demon's mouth. It worked now, unlike when Meg had tried to vacate her host body. As the smoke vanished, Sam doubted it was gone entirely. Merely finding a new host.
Alex wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, still heaving for breath. Sam took in everything, watching curiously as Dean approached her without hesitation. Sam would have paused. There was something about the look on Alex's face that made him think she was less of a trusted ally than an out of their mind monster at the moment.
But the look disappeared, and Alex exhaled in a loud, shaken breath. "About bloody time," she said, voice trembling.
Only then did Sam step forward to help his brother start unwinding the chains. They were quick with it, though Dean was far more gentle with ripping them away than Sam was, and Alex let him know with a snap of her teeth. Still, when freed, Alex studied the silver burns and grimaced. "You boys," she grumbled, "go through hell and back and get maybe a bruise. One inch of silver and I look like a mangled zombie."
"The face isn't too bad," remarked Dean and Alex's lips quirked up just slightly. "Where's your knife? Did they get it?"
"What do you think Crowley was having that bastard torture me for?" Alex's smile widened as she showed them the inside of her arm, where the blade rippled into view before fading. "Alright. We're out for now. So what's next?"
"Meg," said Sam, glancing at his brother to double-check. He wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do, per se. Dean nodded curtly and Sam looked at Alex again. "Yeah. Meg."
"Great." Alex shook out her aching wrists. "Let's get moving then. Maybe not too quickly. I'm sure Meg's doing great." She smiled brightly, drawing a snort from Sam as the trio took a moment to gather themselves. When they were ready, having caught their breath, they swiftly took off. Sam thought it might be more beneficial to just leave Meg where she was; it would keep Crowley distracted, give them time to plan how to get their hands on him.
Nevertheless, with Alex's sharp ears, it took them far less time to find Meg than it should have, and only when they reached the entryway to the room did she step back, faltering. Dean silently took over, sneaking as far as he could to peer in and get an idea of the situation. He fell back, grimacing. "One demon," he muttered. "Meg's strapped in." When Alex grimaced, he said sharply albeit not unkindly, "Look, it's not fun, but you're gonna have to be able to handle it. We don't have a choice."
"I know," she said quietly. She took a deep breath, seeming to steady herself. After a moment, she nodded curtly. "I'll be fine." She smiled warmly at the pair despite the misgivings Sam knew she had regarding him, and he didn't know what to think about the confidence that appeared in her gaze. She trusted them, he realized. To keep her out of Meg's situation. At least, she trusted Dean. Sam knew that if it came down to it, he wouldn't necessarily return the favor.
It simply didn't make sense to him to do so.
Nevertheless, Dean made a small gesture to Alex, and she immediately handed her blade over. He motioned for them to remain where they were and then slid into the room entirely. Sam stepped closer to Alex to peer after him, and Alex watched intently, too. They said nothing to one another as Meg began laughing, looking nearly mutilated from the torment that had been inflicted upon her.
It took Dean seconds to dispatch the demon, and Meg was still laughing when Dean declared it safe and Sam and Alex spilled into the room after him. Dean yanked at the straps that imprisoned their temporary ally, and Alex joined in, breaking the leather with ease. "We should go," Sam said urgently when Meg was free, glancing over his shoulder, but Dean shook his head.
"I have another idea."
It was hard to ignore the cold sweat that had broken out across her forehead from the moment she set foot in that room. It was so similar to the one that she'd been in, filled with weapons she'd been tortured with time and time again. Even so, Alex forced herself somehow to ignore them, focusing instead on Dean's plan.
"You sure you're good to do this?" he'd demanded as Sam and Meg had hidden themselves away.
Alex had nodded, smiling weakly in return. "Like you said, Winchester. I don't have a choice. Besides. The twat'll be more distracted by me than by you. We have less of a chance of him noticing something else is happening."
Dean hadn't look convinced, and Alex still found that she was fairly honored by the concern. She liked to think that they'd become rather close friends. They'd been family for some time, but that was different. You didn't necessarily have to like your family. But you chose friends, and she certainly considered he - and Sam, when Sam wasn't a soulless bastard - to be hers. He'd only sealed her decision on the matter when he'd said curtly, "We'll be right there. The bastard won't lay a hand on you, got it? So don't freeze up. You mess up, we're screwed."
He'd tried to hide the reassurance behind crude words, but Alex wasn't deaf and she certainly wasn't stupid. Most of the time. Even now, as she sucked in a deep breath and pulled the fire alarm, she was comforted, knowing that she wasn't facing Crowley alone, and that her backup wasn't an angel who was distracted by wars in another realm. Rather, she had her family with her, the ones who'd back her every step of the way.
Alex waited several long minutes, her heart racing every step of the way. Her breath caught in her throat when she heard the calm, casual footsteps. Finally, Crowley stepped into the room and Alex forced herself to smirk at the number one name on her list, baring her teeth smugly. Bloody fool. He'd fallen right into the trap without knowing.
Crowley scowled at her, looking suspicious. With good reason, because before he could get so much as a simple greeting out, Sam had slammed into him, tossing him forward. Crowley swore as he clambered to his feet, brushing himself off. "Really?" he snapped. "I just had this dry-cleaned." He scowled at the devil's trap that he'd noticed from the second he'd set foot in the room. It had been obvious, done on purpose. A way to further distract the demon. "So," growled Crowley, straightening his suit as he glared over his shoulder at Sam. Sam said nothing. "To what do I owe the reach-around, Alex?"
She hated the way he said her name. As if he knew something they didn't. "Not me that came looking," she said simply, removing the blade from her arm. Dean had happily given it back, instead taking the demon knife from Meg's tormentor. She flipped it pointedly. "I wouldn't mind a turn after Meg though," she added when Meg slid into the room, Dean a step behind her.
"Whore," accused Crowley with a glower at Meg.
She smiled charmingly and lifted a hand, curling it into a fist until Crowley grimaced, blood sputtering at his lips. "The best torturers," she purred, "never get their hands dirty. Sam wants a word with you."
Crowley, scowling still, gritted out, "What can I do for you, Sam?"
"You know damn well." Sam finally spoke, and Alex glanced at him warily. He gave off no sign of what he was thinking, of course. He never did anymore. "I want my soul back."
"No."
None of them were surprised by the denial. They'd been inspecting it. Dean inclined his head and Meg smiled brightly once more as she forced Crowley to the floor, her eyes glittering with vicious triumph. Crowley swore. "I can't," he insisted, and when Sam questioned him on the matter, Crowley grew even angrier. "I said 'can't.' I meant 'can't,' you mop-headed lumberjack. I was lucky to get this much of you out. Going back in there for the sloppy bits? No way. I'm good, but those two in there? Forget it."
Alex faltered, realizing for the first time that Crowley might not have been the route they should have taken. She could tell then and there that he wasn't lying. Not as he continued, "I'm telling you. Sam, why do you want the thing back? Satan's got one juicy source of entertainment in there. I'd swallow a rag off a bathhouse floor before I took that soul back. Unless you want to be a drooling mess."
When Sam glanced at Meg, as if she'd have some kind of answer for them, Meg shrugged and admitted, "I think he's right. Hate to say it."
"Yeah, right." Alex frowned at the distinct lack of care in Sam's voice. "Thanks. He's all yours."
Dean immediately threw his hands up, protesting. "Are you crazy?! He's our only hope!"
"We really don't have any leads," agreed Alex, uncertainly glancing between them all. "We should at least keep him going until we find something better, right?" Besides, she wanted the first go at the demon. She wanted him to watch them succeed at finding what he'd been searching for so hard, and then take that victory right out from under him before plunging her favorite knife into his cold, dead heart.
But Sam only shrugged, glancing at first Alex, and then his brother. "You heard him. He can't get it, so he's useless."
Dean exchanged a swift look with Alex, who only narrowed her eyes, letting him see her clear suspicion. Something wasn't right here. She felt as if they were walking right into some kind of trap. Crowley never let information go that easily. Besides, he was a crossroads demon. He was always down for some kind of deal. Even when he hated who he was dealing with. Still, she purposefully flipped her knife, arching a brow. Dean inclined his head in turn and offered Meg his demon knife.
She'd trust whatever Dean decided.
Meg lit up like a Christmas tree and took the knife happily. Crowley had the sense to look a little wary as she faltered at the outside of the devil's trap, glancing at them. "You'll let me back out, right?" Sam, Dean, and Alex all nodded, and Meg turned her full attention onto Crowley, smirking as she stepped into the trap.
Crowley had her down instantly. With one swift movement, Meg found herself sprawled on the floor, wheezing, and the knife had been snatched up by Crowley. Alex swore, her blade jumping into her hand, but Crowley had already used the demon blade he'd stolen from Meg to free himself from the devil's trap. She heard shouts of surprise as the boys were thrown by some invisible force, and Alex grunted herself when she was sent tumbling backwards.
A string of curses flew from her mouth as Crowley straightened his suit and smirked at them all. "That's better." His eyes danced from person to person, delight glittering there. He was clearly excited about being underestimated. Shoving herself to her hands and knees, Alex threw Dean a small glare. She took it back, she decided. Dean no longer got to decide what happened when it came to Crowley. "Now," continued Crowley, twirling the demon knife with a small smile. "What shall we do now?"
Alex was surprised when she heard the fluttering of feathers. She looked up and was startled to find none other than Castiel standing near her, his hands clasping a bag made of thick black canvas. Alex furrowed her brow, hearing the clacking of something inside as Castiel said warningly, "Leave them alone and put the knife down."
"You that bossy in Heaven?" sneered Crowley. "Hear you're losing out to Raphael. The whole affair makes Vietnam look like a roller derby." Alex's gaze darted between each of them, her skin crawling. The last time the three of them had been in the same room, Castiel had left, and Crowley's true line of thinking had come to bite her in the arse. But Castiel purposefully shook the bag and Crowley grew suspicious. "What's in the gift bag?"
Castiel tipped his head thoughtfully to the side as he dipped his hand in and removed a human skull. He held it out for Crowley to look at. "You are."
Alex's lips parted in surprise, and she snapped a look towards Sam and Dean. They looked as stunned as she felt. Crowley's bones were incredibly valuable, giving them complete control over the King of Hell. Where the hell had Castiel found them, and why would he wait until now to reveal them? She frowned, not trusting this too good to be true situation.
"You didn't hide your bones as well as you should have," Castiel mused, and Crowley scowled at him. "Can you restore Sam's soul or not, Crowley?"
Crowley beseechingly held out his arms, purring, "If I could help out in any other-"
"Answer him!" barked Dean, on his feet now.
"I can't!"
Alex expected another demand or two. More insisting on Crowley's part. It was even a bit suspicious, she couldn't help but think, especially when out of nowhere, Crowley's bones went up in flames. She gawked somewhat as Crowley, too, vanished among similar flames. When the fire had died, Meg had disappeared, too, and she couldn't help but acknowledge that Meg had been smart to run while she had. She'd been tempted to kill the demon herself after everything that had happened.
"Everyone good?" asked Dean, glancing between his brother and Alex, and both nodded. Alex ruefully shook her wrists, starting to finally feel the sting of silver now that the adrenaline was fading. She wasn't pleased about it. Not one bit. "Then let's get out of here."
Dean was happy to see that while they'd been imprisoned for a short time, Baby had remained untouched. The car stood precisely where he'd left it, sleek and perfect. Dean was glad. He'd have dragged Crowley back from wherever demons went when they were killed and killed him all over again. Sam stood near Alex, watching without helping as the irritable skinwalker did her best to rinse silver from where it had stuck to her wounds. He made a mental note of that; he'd probably have to help her scrape it out of a few, which would involve a lot of cursing on behalf of a very agitated Alex.
"Crowley was right." Dean glanced over at Castiel, surprised, and Alex glanced over, too. Sam listened without looking, not seeming overly interested, and it made Dean desperately want to throttle him in frustration. "It's not going well for me in Heaven."
Dean offered, "If there's anything we can do-"
"There isn't." Castiel sighed heavily, shoulders slumping. "I wish circumstances were different. Much of the time, I'd rather be here."
He'd never admit it aloud, but Dean was touched. It was nice to know their angel friend liked them better than the dicks upstairs. Still, he clasped Castiel's shoulder in a friendly manner. "We know you've got a lot on your plate. No need for apologies. We're your friends." He was, at least. Sam was who knew where in his standing with the angels, and despite everything, there was still quite a bit of hostility in Alex's gaze when she narrowed her eyes at Castiel.
"Listen, Sam," said Castiel, turning to the younger Winchester, and Sam finally looked at him, dark eyes unreadable. "We'll find another way."
"You really want to help?" Sam jerked his chin at the warehouse. "We've got a prison full of monsters. Can't just leave them, and we can't let 'em go."
Alex cleared her throat in mock politeness. "Watch it," she rumbled.
"Sorry." He clearly wasn't.
Still, Castiel nodded and vanished, leaving them behind. The second he was gone, Alex voiced her thoughts. "I still don't trust him. Saved our arses are not, something's off, and it'll be a cold day in Hell before I trust that Crowley's really gone."
Dean wasn't surprised. He'd assumed as such. But he glanced at Sam and said instead, "We'll figure something else out. Cas was right. What he said about your soul-"
"No, we won't."
Sam's words stopped him dead in his tracks, and Dean was taken aback. "What?"
"You heard what Crowley said. And I heard what Cas told you, Dean. Putting my soul back in would smash me to bits."
Alex frowned at Dean, confused, and he made a note to explain it all to her later. "We don't know that for sure," he protested, but Sam was firm.
"Call me nuts," he said sharply, "but I pay attention when demons and angels agree on something."
Dean began to grow angry, frustrated with Sam. After all they'd done, he chose now to decide he didn't want his soul back? They'd nearly died. And he said as much, snapping, "You say this now? After we practically died trying to get it back?"
"Exactly!" Sam exclaimed, the words practically bursting from him. "We almost got ourselves killed. I mean, how many times do we risk our asses for this? Enough's enough, Dean. I don't want it back."
Alex, unnerved, glanced between them and said softly, "Sam…we can't trust anything they say. Crowley's Crowley, and Cas hasn't exactly been the most trustworthy source of information as of late, regardless of what he did and said today."
Sam acknowledged her comment with a shrug. "I don't want it back," he repeated firmly. "You guys obviously care a lot, but I think I'm better off without it."
Bewildered, Dean stared at him in disbelief. How could he not want his soul back? He was missing out on so much - and had lost so much that made him Sam. There was no empathy for others, no drive like Dean knew he should have had. He was barely Sam anymore. "You're wrong. You don't know how wrong you are."
"No," Sam said, pushing away from the Impala. "I'm just saying something you don't like." He barely looked at either of them as he shook his head and simply turned away, as if deciding he didn't want to be near them anymore. Dean shouted his name as Sam began walking away, not sure where he thought he was going when they were in the middle of nowhere at a warehouse full of hopefully dead creatures, but Sam clearly knew.
Because he rounded the corner of the warehouse, disappearing, and didn't look back.
An update at last! Thank you once again for your patience, and I look forward to seeing you next time. Without as long a break, hopefully.
savethemadscientist, regarding romance...it's coming, slowly but surely. ;) And when it does, it'll be a grand old mess. In every which way. I'm really excited for some of the things that are going to happen when it starts. Angst is my specialty, after all.
Thanks to my wonderful reviewers (Savage Kill, savethemadscientist, emily2696, and Mo!) as well as those who favorited and followed!