Song Remains the Same

Chapter 6 / Panic Room Blues

"It's hard to see a perfect forest through so many splintered trees."
- Poe

After shouting herself hoarse and no reappearance of Castiel, Alex finally gave up and resorted to fuming about being handcuffed to the gun rack. Knowing that her brothers and Bobby would be walking into a death trap with no warning left her in quite the state.

She tried to get the handcuffs off, at first by grabbing a shotgun to shoot the chain in half—but as luck would have it, none of the guns in reach were loaded and the ammo sat out of reach on the other side of the room. She tried awkwardly pounding at the chain with the butt of a gun, but that didn't work either. Unfortunately, no amount of tugging or twisting did anything to the chain or to the rack.

Forced to give up, she muttered foul things aimed at Castiel for a bit then became sullen in resignation. She would just have to wait and hope that Bobby and her brothers would be able to make it to safety before any more ghosts attacked. She focused on deep breathing to stay calm. Losing her shit wasn't gonna help anyone.

After a while she began fiddling with the ring on her index finger out of habit. Dad's silver wedding band. Even though Mary Winchester had been dead for years, Alex had never seen Dad without this ring on his finger—and being a closet romantic, she had always found it beautiful. When Dad died, Alex had taken the ring as her own. After getting it resized, it never left her hand. Most memories of her dad were bitter and tainted by pain of some kind. But he was still her father. And she had loved him despite everything.

John Winchester was many things. Negligent as a parent was one of them; a sore disappointment to his kids was another. During Alex's childhood he'd stayed gone for long periods, missing important moments and shirking his fatherly duties, all while placing Dean in the unfair position of primary caretaker. Yes, Dad saved their lives countless times—but he also endangered their lives just as many. However. One thing he'd never done was step out on them forever. Over the years, Alex had come to view that as loyalty.

When Sam left for college, things changed in the Winchester family. Dad had some kind of wake-up call, and for the next few years he finally included Alex in most of the hunts they did and finally treated her somewhat like an adult. Instead of getting left behind or playing getaway driver or doing long-range surveillance, she became a full-fledged part of the family business and had finally seen her dad more than once every few weeks. They still hadn't been that close—it was hard to be close to a father who kept you at arm's length—but father and daughter had nevertheless been making tiny little steps toward maybe, possibly undoing a lifetime of damage. Then, he disappeared. His death followed not too long after that.

A lifetime later, Alex still wasn't sure how to describe the way she felt about Dad or the resentments and betrayal she still carried in his name. But she did wish he could have heard her speak. Just once.

Outside the panic room, a sudden sound alerted Alex to company. Her thoughts fell away as she instantly prepared herself for a fight—although it might not go so well due to the whole being stuck in place thing. She swallowed, heart racing. If it were anyone besides her brothers or Bobby...

But the panic room door creaked open and Bobby's familiar head poked in. His face instantly registered confusion at her state. "The hell...?"

Bobby wasn't alone—Alex's brothers spilled into the room, quickly seeing the situation and each having their own immediate reaction. "Oh my god—" Sam rushed to her, aghast—and strangely enough, Alex felt relief to see him so worried about her. "What happened? Why are you—"

Dean was already looking for someone whose head he could rip off. "Who did this?!"

Alex felt as worried about them as they were about her. "Are you guys okay?" She yanked at her handcuffs, gesturing repeatedly at the table where the key was. "Get these off me!"

"Alex, who did this?" Sam repeated Dean's question forcefully.

Alex a face. "Castiel."

Bobby got the key and Dean swiped it. A dangerous glint rested in his eyes. "Explain. Now." Dean fiddled with the lock and the key.

She hadn't expected to feel this embarrassed about it. "He—I—he showed up and told me I was in danger and that God told him that he was supposed to protect me. I told him get lost then Nancy's total bitch of a ghost attacked and almost killed me. Made it in here, Castiel magically healed me, and then he handcuffed me to the gun rack for some reason." The handcuffs fell off as Dean finally succeeded and Alex sighed in relief, rubbing her wrist thankfully. "Long story short, I'm annoyed but I'm fine. What about you guys?"

Sam had a gash above his eye, Bobby appeared shaken up, Dean looked more tense than usual and ignored her question. "He said he was assigned to protect you?"

"And he healed you?" Sam repeated. Both brothers were skeptical and protective.

"Yup."

Sam picked that moment to begin noticing the room for the first time. "Wait. Sorry. Bobby... is this… is this a panic room?!"

Bobby shrugged modestly nodded at Alex. "Built it together."

Dean took brief stock and gave an approving nod but he clearly had other priorities: "You need to tell us exactly what happened here, Al. Now."

Suppressing a sigh, Alex got to work. She explained in more detail as fast as she could everything that had happened—recounting Castiel's bizarre appearance and speech about protection, Nancy's attack (she left out the details of Nancy's exact words), Castiel's reappearance and how he had healed her with just two touches, and then the handcuffing. Needless to say, her brothers were especially ticked off about that last part. Dean was straight up pissed, while Sam tried to come up with theories on the angel's possible reasoning. Not wanting to dwell on it, Alex demanded they fill her in on their end of everything. What they told her was this: after finding other hunters shredded by ghosts and then Sam's attack in the gas station bathroom, the three men had realized something was after hunters in particular and hurried back here. Bobby had made it first and been trapped by some angry spirits in the salvage yard until Sam had managed to get him free. Dean had been searching for Alex when he too was confronted by the spirit of Victor Henriksen, an FBI agent they'd crossed paths with recently. He'd died at Lilith's hand.

The story ended with Sam's final comment: "…When we first got here and couldn't find you anywhere... we thought maybe they got you." His voice hitched slightly, and Alex finally met her twin's gaze for the first time in months without animosity. She really did love him and felt like crap about the status of their relationship lately. It didn't matter that they were at odds, fighting, and mad at each other. She would take a bullet for him, hands down, even now.

"I was just freaked that I couldn't get outta here to warn you," she replied softly, hoping they'd be friends again someday. She couldn't bear the thought of losing one or both of her brothers again. It put a quiver of emotion into her voice. "Really glad you're okay." Sam nodded, saying nothing—but the expression on his face said that he felt the same.

"Well, we're all in one piece," Dean summarized. "But I think we're all lucky to still be breathing."

Bobby settled in at his panic room desk. "Kids, can we continue this conversation over some arts 'n crafts? We need to get some salt and iron rounds ready. Can't stay in this little room forever."

He was right. The Winchesters set to work prepping rounds quietly. After a few moments, Alex shared some of the highlights of her angel mythos research—angels appeared in most major mythologies and religions. They always came with the assumption of a god in charge of them, they had powers of healing and were somewhere between corporeal and intransient. Dean listened with a sour expression on his face, and when she concluded, there was a long silence as everyone digested.

"So, if angels are real, then God is too. Right?" Dean gave an unconvinced sigh. "No. See, this is why I can't get behind God."

Sam gave his brother an odd look. "Huh?"

"If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is. There's no rhyme or reason—just random, horrible, evil—I get it. I can roll with that. But if he is out there… what the hell is wrong with the guy?" Dean threw his arms wide. "Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How's he live with himself? Why doesn't he help?"

Alex snorted. "That's what you and every philosopher ever wants to know." She shoved more rock salt into the shell she held. Sam remained in silence, mulling over Dean's rant.

"Found it," Bobby finally said, breaking the silence.

Sam sat straighter. "Found what?"

"The symbol you saw—the brand on the ghosts... it's the Mark of the Witness."

"What symbol?" Alex asked, momentarily forgetting the work of her hands.

Bobby held up the page and tapped a strange little symbol illustrated in black ink.

"I saw it on Henriksen," Sam supplied. "On his wrist. Did Nancy have one?"

Alex frowned. She hadn't seen it, but Nancy had been covered up entirely except for her hands, part of her neck, and her face. "She might've—I didn't notice it though." She returned to the bullets.

"Well, it's the mark of the unnatural," Bobby explained. "None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts—they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Someone rose them... on purpose."

An ominous assertion. "Who would do that?" Sam asked after an uncomfortable beat of silence.

Bobby scoffed lightly. "Do I look like I know? But whoever it was used a spell so powerful it left a brand on their souls. Whoever did this had big plans. It's called 'the rising of the witnesses.' Figures into ancient prophecy."

Intrigued, Alex stopped loading rounds.

"From where?" Dean was decidedly suspicious.

"Well, the widely distributed version's just for tourists, you know. But long story short—the book of Revelations." The Bible. Alex felt her face growing a little less enthused. "This is a sign, kids."

"A sign of what?" Sam and Dean chorused as their sister looked on in apprehension.

Bobby cleared his throat. "The apocalypse."

Silence. Everyone stared at Bobby, wondering if he were joking. Dean broke the silence. "Apocalypse? The apocalypse, apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, five-dollar-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?"

"No, the other one," Bobby commented snidely. "Yes, that one. The rise of the witnesses is a—I dunno, a mile marker."

Alex gaped. Dean was dubious. Sam found his ability to speak first, despite the dazed look in his eye. "Okay... so what do we do?"

"Road trip. Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience. Bunny Ranch. All in bets at Caesars Palace." Dean got a dirty look from Sam and an eye roll from Alex.

"First things first." Bobby held up a piece of paper. "How about we survive our friends out there? This here's a spell to send the witnesses back to rest. Should work."

Sam grew wry. "Should. Great."

"If I translated it correctly, I think I got everything we need here at the house."

"Any chance you got everything we need here in this room?" Dean asked hopefully.

"You thought our luck was gonna start now all of a sudden?" Bobby shook his head in resigned fondness. "Spell's gotta be cast over an open fire."

Alex suppressed deflation as she realized where that meant. "The fireplace in the study."

"Bingo."

"That's just not as appealing as a, uh, ghost-proof panic room, you know?" Dean looked uncharacteristically nervous.

"Nope." Bobby snapped the book shut and put it under his arm. "Everyone load up a shotgun."

They almost didn't succeed in casting the spell and sending the ghosts back. It was like the entire house had been possessed—angry spirits seemed to be around every corner—familiar faces of people who had died when the Winchesters got involved in their lives. After fighting their way to the study and salt-circling themselves in, Bobby sent Sam after a hex box upstairs and then Dean into the kitchen for ingredients. Alex and Bobby could see Dean from where they were, but when the ghost attacks became more violent, Alex raced up the stairs, trying to get to Sam who was by himself.

She stopped short at the top of the stairs when she heard a female voice around the corner and down the hallway.

"...and what you're doing with that demon, Ruby..."

Alex's breath cut short and she shrank back in confusion.

"How many innocent bodies has Ruby burned through for kicks, huh Sammy?" the voice continued. A voice Alex recognized as the demon Meg. "How many girls just like me? And you don't send her back to Hell? You're a monster!" There was a pause, and then Alex jumped when a rifle blast sounded. Holy shit, was Sam fucking around with the demon Ruby? Unsure what else to do, Alex turned and ran back down the stairs away from him, shaken to the core. Downstairs, she found Henriksen's ghost attempting to rip Dean's heart out. She blasted through the ghost with her shotgun and dragged a rattled Dean back to the salt circle, where Sam had just returned. With all four of them together, the angry spirits were drawn like flies to honey.

They barely survived the following attack and just barely managed to cast the spell in time to save their own skin.

Now, the four hunters were exhausted, sore, and in shock after battling so many ghosts at once. Bobby retired to his room to rest (one does tend to need a little time after a ghost attempts to rip out your internal organs) and Dean declared he was going to take a damn shower. This left the twins to themselves. Pretty much as soon as they were alone, Alex demanded that Sam follow her outside.

She led him in stony silence to the junk yard and turned on him, not bothering to hide her anger.

"What's up?" he asked in a guarded tone. He was already on defensive, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"What's up?" she repeated incredulously. "Sam, why don't you tell me why Meg seemed to think you're still palling around with Ruby?" The two names she dropped made Sam's face drop. "You told Dean that Ruby was dead." Alex accused. Still, she tried to do the right thing and give him some small benefit of the doubt. "Is Ruby still alive, Sam?"

Sam swallowed, wet his lips, and it looked like he was attempting to come up with an answer. "Well, uh, Meg's ghost lied. She was just making stuff up to try and get me mad."

Alex felt insulted—because she knew when she was being lied to. Her voice took on a tight, growling quality as she tried her damndest to give him another chance to tell the truth. "Sam, Nancy knew everything about me. Everything. Why would Meg lie?"

Sam grew increasingly irritated. "Well I don't know what to tell you, but what Meg said isn't true."

"Stop lying!" Alex exploded. "How the hell can you lie to my face like that, huh? I know what I heard! What is with you, Sam?" She was so angry that she shook as she pointed an accusing finger at him. Attempting not to lose it, she forcefully lowered her voice. "You've been acting all kinds of weird ever since Dean got back and sneaking off and I'm—"

Sam cut her off. "Okay, Alex look, fine!" He let his hands go wide and slap against his sides as he admitted the truth. "Yeah, Ruby helped me out for a while after I left you and Bobby. What's the big freaking deal?"

"Helped you out?" Alex repeated, incredulous.

"Yeah, like before. She helped me track stuff down and look for ways to bring Dean back. Uh, I lost touch with her like a month ago I guess." His shifty eyes either meant he was lying, or maybe embarrassed about it. Sam sighed loudly, taking a minute and regulating. He was beginning to look genuinely sorry instead of just pissed. "Alex—just… just please try and understand. I was in a dark place. I lost my big brother. And then I lost my little sister, too." That last one did make it difficult to stay angry. Paired with the wounded look on his face, Alex had to cross her arms and look away. He couldn't undo the lies and hurt with a sad face. "I did all kinds of crazy crap," Sam continued desperately, earnestly. "But Dean's back and I'm on the straight and narrow! Promise."

Alex looked at him in the eye. He appeared hopeful and vulnerable, like he really meant what he'd said. Looking at her twin—a person she was supposed to be close to, to be able to trust—she felt her heart sinking under a new realization. "I can't tell when you're telling the truth anymore."

She spoke the words softly, but when she said them, he looked like he'd been hit by a ton of bricks. Sam grew stoic, the hopefulness he'd had a moment before disappearing. When he spoke again, he avoided looking at her. "Look. Can you just not tell Dean about this? He's not too happy with me right now and this would just make it worse."

Alex chuckled bitterly. "No kidding."

Sam was beginning to beg now, his eyebrows drawing together intently. "Please, Alex. How many times have I covered for you in the past?" Alex darkened, bristling. She had to admit that was true. Sam's voice softened earnestly. "I'll tell him, soon. I promise."

Alex was over the conversation. She grew gruff, refusing to show how sad she was. "Yeah, you will. 'Cause if you don't, I will." She had to fight not to cry as her innermost pain begged to be healed. "I'll tell him all about how you left your sister to work with some fucking demon instead." She turned and stalked off, her world yet again shattered. She didn't look back. If she had, she would have seen that her brother was just as torn up and heartbroken about the whole thing as she was. Maybe even more.

That Night

Dean and Sam crashed in the living room late after going through Alex's notes on all the angelic crap she'd sifted through. Her familiar penmanship was neat and strong, and the system of organization she'd made up on the fly thorough. She was famously kind of a slob in most areas of life, but when it came to stuff like this, she flourished. The young hunter in question had shut herself into the guest room hours ago, clearly unhappy about something or another. Dean knew she'd come around. She always did.

He listened to the sound of Sam's deep, even breathing and smiled to himself despite everything. Even though the twins were in rare form right now, having them close to him again was so comforting. Against the memories of Hell, being with them was heavenly—bickering or not.

When Dean had gotten out of the shower earlier, he'd found Sam sulking in the study on his laptop, clearly wanting to be left alone... and Alex had been out in the junk yard nonchalantly smashing old car headlights with a hammer while drinking Jack. Funny how his siblings chose to deal with their latest near-death experience. But, their prerogative, not his.

Dean laid awake for a long time, trying to decide if he could believe in angels or not. He believed in demons, he knew those suckers were real... but he wasn't so sure about angels. Dean's mind turned to his years in Hell. To his brother and sister, it had been a little under five months. It had been so much longer for him. He ground his teeth as he tried not to think of the pain, the torment, the utter hopelessness he had endured. The scorching heat, the screams, the never-ending pain and suffering. He suddenly woke in disoriented confusion, not even realizing he had been asleep. Sam was still snoring nearby on the couch. Silvery slats of moonlight lined the floor. The house was silent.

Dean sat up and scanned around, feeling like he was being watched. That's when he saw a familiar silhouette in the kitchen. On his guard Dean got up, silently padding into the kitchen where Castiel leaned casually up again the kitchen counter. He looked exactly like he had before—stern. Maybe a little constipated. "Excellent job with the witnesses," Castiel said, not bothering with pleasantries.

"You knew about that?" Dean couldn't hide how he was taken aback. He shouldn't have been surprised, he guessed, and got gruff. "You know, a heads up would have been nice. Oh and thanks a whole lot for handcuffing my sister to the damn wall. What was that all about?"

The reply came instantly. "I saved her life."

"By trapping her in a panic room?"

Castiel studied him for several beats, his blue eyes narrowing just slightly. "If I hadn't made sure your sister stayed in that room, Nancy's spirit would have killed her easily when Alex left the room to assist you. And Alex would have left the panic room to do such. It was a certainty." Castiel's mouth twitched as if in impatience. "I didn't enjoy having to restrain your very stubborn sister. If she had just listened, it would have been much more pleasant." He looked at Dean almost contemptuously. Like it was Dean's fault Alex was stubborn as a mule.

Dean smirked slightly. It was surprisingly funny to see the angel guy annoyed over his sister's bullheaded nature. But, Dean supposed he did have to give Castiel credit for one thing and his smirk fell. "Yeah, she, uh, told me about your magical healing powers. Guess I do owe you one." However, Dean wasn't going to let Castiel leave without finding out more about one very troublesome claim: "You wanna tell me exactly why you told her you were assigned to protect her?"

"Because it's the truth." Castiel's plain, straightforward reply was as spicy as a plain piece of bread. "God commanded it."

Dean's big brother hackles raised protectively. He didn't like the sound of that. "What could God possibly want my little sister for?"

Castiel shook his head slightly, disinterested. "I wasn't given a reason, nor do I need one. I do what is commanded of me."

That was rich, and Dean became indignant. "So where the hell were you when she was getting kicked around by Nancy in the first place?! And, hey, I could've used a hand myself—I almost got my heart ripped out of my chest!"

"But you didn't." Castiel's stoic attitude and expression were getting on Dean's last nerve and he was past the point of caring whether he offended the dude or not.

"I thought angels were supposed to be, I dunno... fluffy wings, halos," he retorted. "You know, Michael Landon. Not dicks."

Castiel was resolute and unruffled. "Read the Bible. Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier."

Dean laughed in a short, incredulous huff of air. "A soldier? Then why didn't you fight? And where the hell is God, anyway, if he even exists? I'm not convinced. 'Cause if there's a God, what the hell is he waiting for, huh? Genocide? Monsters roaming the earth? The freakin' apocalypse? At what point does he lift a damn finger and help the poor bastards that're stuck down here?"

Castiel's gaze faltered and he looked away. Almost reluctantly, he said, "The Lord works..."

"If you say 'mysterious ways,' so help me, I will kick your ass." Dean growled. "So, Bobby was right... about the witnesses. This is some kind of a... sign of the apocalypse."

"That's why we're here," Castiel confirmed. We. So there were more of these idiots. Just great. "The rising of the witnesses is one of the sixty-six seals."

"Okay. I'm guessing that's not a show at Sea World." The joke was lost on Castiel, who didn't seem to understand the reference. In fact, his expression had gone from mostly blank to introspective.

"Those seals are being broken by Lilith. And even though you sent the witnesses back, the seal was broken."

Dean again didn't like the sound of all this. "…And that did what?"

Castiel's almost worried expression was disconcerting. "You think of the seals as locks on a door."

"Okay..." Dean prompted, not seeing where the dude was going with this. "Last one opens and..."

Castiel looked at him tensely. "Lucifer walks free."

Dean's eyebrows shot up. Okay, not what he had expected. "Lucifer?" He repeated. "What, the devil? Come on man. There's no such thing."

"Three days ago, you thought there was no such thing as me," Castiel pointed out. "Why do you think we're here walking among you now for the first time in two thousand years?"

Dean grew reluctant, seeing where this was going. He had to admit, it did track. "To stop Lucifer."

"That's why we've arrived."

A little uncomfortable with this new information, Dean resorted to his favorite defense mechanism: sarcasm and insults. "Well... bang-up job so far. Stellar work with the witnesses. Nice job letting my sister get kicked around by a ghost. Two thumbs, way, way up."

Castiel quickly lost patience. "We tried. And there are other battles, other seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. This one we lost. Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died on the battlefield this week." He looked at Dean with resentment. "You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here." He drew closer, his voice dipping lower. There was a menacing quality to it. "You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in."

Without giving him a chance to reply, the angel was gone, leaving Dean standing alone in the kitchen and reeling. A moment later, Dean found himself blinking back sunlight and laying on the floor where he had fallen asleep.

For a second, he remained absolutely confused and disoriented. Then as his senses awoke, he began to realize what had happened:The angel had come to him in a dream. Now if that wasn't Biblical…