Song Remains the Same

Chapter 8 / Abandon Ship

"Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too.
So I stayed in the darkness with you."
- Florence and the Machine

Several Days Later
Kimball, Nebraska

Alex lay back-first on the floor of the abandoned cabin. An arm pillowed her head as she stared at the ceiling. It was sometime near sunset and getting dark inside. Beside her, a half-consumed bottle of whiskey sat temporarily forgotten. She idly smoked a cigarette, watching the haze of smoke dissipate above. Alex liked to light up here and there, especially in times of high stress or boredom. It had started as a teenage act of rebellion. She'd wanted to do something that would get her in trouble, if not with Dad (who wasn't around enough to pick up on the secret habit), then with Dean or even with Sam. Only, no one had noticed it. Not at first.

Finally, Dean caught a whiff after Alex dared to sneak a smoke in the car—and he immediately accused Sam of smoking then launched into a tirade about drugs, alcohol, and how Sam was a bad example headed straight for prison. Pretty ironic considering that Dean dropped out of school at seventeen and had experimented with recreational drugs and alcohol since twelve. After Dean's accusations, Sam insisted he hadn't smoked anything, ever, and it must have been Alex. At that point, she'd felt too embarrassed to own up to it, and in cowardice hadn't done anything but lied by shaking her head no. Dean hadn't even questioned it, immediately tearing into Sam for lying. When Sam later asked her about who had smoked cigarettes in the Impala, she wrote down: Maybe it was Dad? Sam got this aggravated look and rolled his eyes. He knew, and she knew that he knew. But he never said anything about it again.

Lying about that was something Alex still regretted. She blew another ribbon of smoke, lazily watching it rise. Dean would kill her if he could see this. He probably wanted to kill her period right now. She had done some crazy stuff throughout the years, but had never run away before. She estimated all new levels of Dean-fury when she dragged herself back to the boys.

At first, running off had been thrilling. An instant cure for all the anxiety she'd been battling from being caught in the middle of the latest family drama. But she'd started doubting her decision very quickly, then realized she was trapped into following through. After leaving the note she had, she wasn't going to look like a dumbass and go back on what she'd said.

She'd been away from her brothers and out of contact for days now, spending the entire time counting down until when she could return and not look stupid. It just needed to be long enough to be taken seriously—and not too long that she'd be accused of going overboard. Eh, who was she kidding. Dean wouldn't be happy no matter what. After all, he'd just gotten back from the dead. And what had she done? Run off the first chance she got. Or that's how it felt anyway. She cursed herself for the impulsive decision, wondering if and when she'd ever learn her lesson around spur-of-the-moment crap like that. She knew she owed some major apologies.

However—the past few days had been kind of relaxing and nice, whether or not Alex wanted to admit it to herself or not. Instead of the normal monster hunting and mortal danger, she'd gone into useless lump mode, living off gas station junk food, weed, cigarettes, and alcohol all while drifting around place to place. After so many years of avoiding the authorities and dodging various radars, hiding from her brothers had been easy. She knew the tricks—SIM card out of the phone, cash only instead of credit cards, switching the plates on the stolen motorcycle… she'd done it all by second nature and knew that even if her brothers had tried to find her, there was no way. She'd left no trace after Kansas City, where she'd gotten enough cash out of an ATM to last for weeks. One of the things she bought? A bible. She'd been studying the book of Revelation, searching for answers on angels or the apocalypse.

Alex's eyes drifted to the softening sky visible through a cracked window then she blinked heavily and put her cigarette out on the floor. Pleasantly tipsy, she sat up slowly and listened to the sound of silence. She hadn't spoken out loud in a couple days... so she hummed the tune of Crazy Train softly just to make sure her voice was still there. It was.

God she was really beginning to dread it. Not the part where she would be back in the life she was used to, but the part where she'd face the wrath of Dean and the passive aggressive guilt trips courtesy of Sam. But, the longer she waited, the worse both would be. Refusing to think about it further—not tonight—Alex wandered outside to the worn-out porch, bible and whiskey in tow. The stars would come out soon.

Castiel watched in silence as Alex Winchester sat on the porch of the abandoned cabin she had been living in the past couple days. He remained invisible, watching as she leaned against the splintered stair railing, softly contemplating the stars. Her expression was thoughtful and soft, hopeful almost. It captivated Castiel beyond explanation, the things her face did. Hers was one of the most familiar faces to him, but every time he was near her, he found himself searching for things he hadn't noticed. There was such intricacy in her expressions and features. What a marvel the human face was. Especially hers. He'd always thought so, even since the first day he'd beheld her.

In Alex's hand, a pen went back and forth, tap, tap, tapping against the open book that was balanced on her knees—the bible lay open on the book of Revelation. Castiel had watched her study it for the past few days. She was trying to decode some of the prophecies, he estimated. Her tenacity was admirable, but in vain. Not even Castiel understood the things contained in Revelation. Cas's eyes resumed their inventory of the one he guarded. Alex wore the same shoes he had always seen her wear—scuffed boots in faded black. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders and down her back in untamed waves. A faded green cargo jacket was over a t-shirt that had a skull and crossbones with wings and a huge red proclamation of METALLICA. Castiel wasn't sure what a metallica was supposed to be, but he assumed, judging from the shirt design, that it was a mythical beast which humans had imagined by combining death lore with angelic fable. Interesting, but inaccurate.

The shirt was not the greatest point of interest. Perhaps his favorite thing was the new silver chain she wore. Dangling from the end of it? A small, long, thin silver shape. A lock pick. Her obvious response to his actions inspired a strange reaction—he wasn't sure, but he thought it might have been amusement. He remembered the look of shock on her face when he had clicked the handcuffs down over her wrist—it wasn't that he had wanted to restrain her using the handcuffs. But he hadn't seen another way. Castiel had been unable to stay by her side that day due to battles across the heavenly planes. Lilith's war was troublingly successful so far. Thus, the handcuffs had been a creative solution to keep the youngest Winchester safe. He had a feeling she was still angry about it, though he didn't understand why. Didn't she understand that he had saved her life?

Every day Castiel came close to Alex's physical presence, remaining invisible. Here he could assess her fate. Fates were tricky and always changing, but they made it possible for a guardian angel to see into the future for a few linear days and into the events surrounding a specific human. He was naturally more in tune with her fate, as he had been given the task of watching over her. The orders to protect Alex Winchester had been in place since she had been born, but Castiel had only been assigned recently.

Up until about a year ago in earth time, the angel Nandriel watched over Alex. But Nandriel proved weak. This is what transpired: Angels require no vessel, however Nandriel relentlessly petitioned Heaven for one, saying that in order to best protect her human charge, she needed a physical and human manifestation. Heaven allowed it. Years later when Alex was about to turn twenty-four, it was discovered that Nandriel had increasingly neglected her duties in favor of pursuing her own interests and desires. As such, her punishment had been most severe. Locked far away in celestial prison, she had been sentenced to solitude for the rest of all eternity.

Castiel had now watched over Alex for nearly a year. He had been there with her in the grief when Dean died. He had seen her pain when Sam left. Even though he had only spoken to her a few times, he knew her better than she could guess. Watching her now, the angel wondered where her thoughts lingered. She could have been searching for something, her eyes darting back and forth across the starry expanse. Castiel looked to see what exactly she gazed at, and he couldn't determine it.

Whenever he watched humans he felt a keen sense of disconnection. He didn't understand them like they understood each other. But sometimes, he thought he'd like to.

He looked at Alex again, who remained blissfully unaware of his presence. It was easier this way. She and her brother Dean both became angry when he appeared to them, for reasons Castiel did not understand. He only understood that if he were to make himself visible to her right now, she would immediately become mistrustful, and even a little afraid. He didn't like to inspire that sensation in her, and he didn't understand why she would feel that way. But he did wonder.

Castiel could hear his brethren beckoning to him, the host of Heaven proclaiming tidings as it called angels to order. He turned his attention to the voices and listened longer, hearing a message meant for him specifically. He was to meet with Uriel, and immediately so. He frowned slightly. If Uriel were involved, that could only mean something drastic. Castiel was troubled to feel reluctance at the summoning. It wasn't appropriate for him to feel aversion to a call from above, or hesitancy at the prospect of seeing one of his brothers. Being an angel whose standard was obedience, Castiel pushed the thoughts aside and took himself away from Alex to Uriel.

"And the Lord God of the holy prophets sent His angel to show His servants the things which must shortly take place."

Alex highlighted, circled, and re-read Revelation 22:6.

To her, that verse sounded eerily like Castiel's first appearance to her and Dean. It made her uneasy. The rest of Revelation was filled with violence, destruction, and stories of wrath pouring out as seals were broken. Was that really what the future held? Alex blinked, sleepy from all the reading. Leaning against the railing tiredly, she pondered the stars once again.

Thoughts remained on Sam, who used to call her Mouse. Used to give her piggyback rides and share his dessert with her. Used to surprise her with a book she wanted just because. Now he hated her. When had things changed? And was there a way back?

Alex fell asleep under the weight of her thoughts. Next thing she knew, she stood out in front of the cabin in unnaturally bright moonlight. Crisp and clear as a fall breeze, Castiel stood in front of her. "Alex." He said her name gruffly.

Disconcerted, Alex tried to figure out how she had been sitting on a dim staircase one minute, then standing out in front of the cabin in blazing moonlight the next. Then, she noticed that the trees didn't move even though she felt breeze, and there were no sounds. Even though things looked real, the details lacked something. Even Castiel looked slightly wrong. His face was lit too well—and he looked more handsome than she remembered, which irked her.

"W-what are you doing here?" As soon as she asked that dazed question, she remembered Dean telling her about his Castiel dream and it clicked. "Is this... a dream?"

"Yes, but this conversation is real." He came closer.

"Okay..." Alex eyed him closely, unnerved. She tried to sound joking, even though she meant it: "I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with you being... inside my head, Cas." Dean's little nickname for the guy didn't go unnoticed by the angel, and Alex decided she liked his reaction—if for no other reason than the micro-frown it caused on his face.

"Appearing to you in dreams is safer. Less eyes and ears," Castiel finally answered, leaving Alex perplexed. He was now incredibly close and Alex almost had to lean back. He apparently didn't understand personal space, and she was surprised to find that she felt intimidated—he was bigger than she remembered. And undeniably enigmatic in a way that made her feel unsettled. He looked down at her unyieldingly. "Something is about to happen to your brothers in Salt Lake City. You need to get there, and quickly."

Her heart flip-flopped. "Something—what something? Are they all right? And can you back up a little? You're too close."

"Too close to what?" His stern eyebrows gathered in a deep frown.

"To me."

His frown deepened. He did step but, but he didn't look so sure of why the proximity had bothered her. "My apologies," he said stiltedly. "Leave immediately and travel fast—Uriel must not know of this conversation we just had."

"Who's Uriel?" Alex got more confounded by the second. But Castiel was already gone.

She woke up leaned awkwardly against the rough wooden railing of the porch stairs, her body stiff and her throat sore. The light was dim. The dawn's damp chill made her shiver. She'd fallen asleep on the porch. Classy. She stood up and groaned. Her head was pounding—another hangover, whoops—but she had no time to think about it. Castiel's appearance had awakened a sense of urgency. She was racing down the road not even sixty seconds later.

Three Hours Later

Alex swung into a gas station, her head officially killing. Her throat had gone from sore to total misery, and she was having trouble breathing out of her nose. She guessed a cold was what she got for falling asleep outside, but it didn't lessen the fact that it sucked. She glanced around as she swung off the motorcycle, always wary of police. She wasn't a criminal. Yes, she stole things, committed identity theft and fraud… but the things she did do for society made up the balance between right and wrong. At least, that's what she told herself.

She grabbed some Tylenol from the shelf inside the convenience store and stood in line to pay, shuffling some cash out of her pocket. The line was a few people long, and the gas station employee was taking their time. The wall behind the employee was mirrored, and Alex caught a glimpse of herself in it, as well as the girl standing in line just in front of her. The blonde wore a pretty floral printed dress and immaculate makeup. She reminded Alex of a cover of one of a glossy women's magazines.

Alex, in contrast, had windblown, raggedy hair that had been thoughtlessly put in a ponytail... a rumpled outfit that hadn't been washed in two days, and a plain, tired looking face with eyes that looked hollow to her. She looked away from the mirror, feeling self-conscious as she rubbed the back of her neck.

Here in the real world, she didn't fit in. She knew how to kill a ghost, but had never decorated a Christmas tree. She faced down shape shifters and vampires, but had never lived in one place for more than a couple weeks. She knew how to send a demon back to hell, but had no idea how to talk to people or make a friend. She had woken up every day of her life not knowing where she would be twenty-four hours from that moment. She'd never owned a purse and hadn't graduated high school and wasn't entirely sure how to work an oven. She could pick just about any lock, hot wire a car, restore an engine, count cards, throw a knife with fatal accuracy—but she had no real life skills to speak of, no lasting relationships besides Dean and Sam and Bobby. And Dad. But he was gone, like most other people Alex had ever loved.

"Hey, you gonna pay for that?"

Alex started, looking up. The line in front of her was gone and the gas station employee waited impatiently.

"Uh, yeah. Keep the change." She slammed a five-dollar bill onto the counter, avoiding looking into the mirror again.

Five Hours Later
Salt Lake City

Feeling just as sick as before, Alex set to work tracking down her brothers. Using the public library's free internet services, she logged onto the cell phone provider website that Dean used and then activated the GPS feature to see where his phone had been in the past 24 hours. From there she used Google maps, which showed her one of the locations had been the Moonlight Motel across town. Bingo.

She got to the motel and saw no Impala in the lot—meaning they were out somewhere. Popping the SIM card back into her phone, she called the front desk of the motel and complained that she was staying in room 200 and there was a horrible leak in the bathroom. She watched as the guy at the front desk hurried upstairs, and using the quick window of time, she quickly accessed the main computer, reading through the guest registry, looking for any classic rock star or obscure fandom names—ah ha… Bret Michaels was staying in room 126. She smiled, shaking her head at how predictable her brother was.

She made for the room, taking a credit card out of her wallet and jimmying the door open while glancing around discreetly. Hopefully her brothers would be back soon from wherever they were. Sure, she could have called them, but she didn't like being cussed out over the phone. In person was much better. She shut the door behind her and looked up only to promptly gasp and freeze. The room was not empty after all.

"Hello, Alex." Castiel stood up from where he had been sitting on the bed. And it wasn't just him.

Alex couldn't conceal her surprise. She glanced at the other man, a stranger who stood casually off at the other end of the room looking at her in a way she didn't like. He was an imposing bald Black man, and his eyes seemed disdainful. "Ah, the littlest Winchester," said the man. He sounded decidedly unfriendly. Maybe this was the Uriel guy Castiel had mentioned.

"And... who exactly are you?" She remained by the door.

"This is Uriel," Castiel said, confirming Alex's suspicions. The look on his face intrigued her. Was he… trying to give her a meaningful stare? Silently telling her, again, not to give away what he'd told her in the dream? She thought so, and had to admit. She was a little impressed.

With calculation, Alex proceeded into the room a bit further, looking hard at each of the angels. Keeping Uriel in the dark was no problem. She was good at hiding things. And anyway, she needed to know what was going on. "And what are you two doing here in my brothers' room, exactly?"

"Waiting for them." Castiel's bland reply earned a baleful, if slightly amused expression from Alex.

Thank you, Captain Obvious. She had guessed as much. Uneasily she crossed her arms, coming to stand by one of the beds. "For what? What do you guys want with them?" It couldn't be anything good.

"It's none of your concern," Uriel replied dismissively, coming closer to stare her down. He felt hostile, and Alex bristled at the perceived threat.

"...Oh, I think it is," she replied, matching his icy tone and hostility easily. She looked at Castiel questioningly, whose face told her nothing. An awkward silence hung and Alex swore all that was needed was a cricket chirping. She pulled a wan face. "Okay… well, how about I come back later?" She arched a brow. "I'll leave you two your... privacy." Neither of the angels seemed to get her entendre.

"You're not going anywhere." Uriel's deep voice was foreboding. He came closer still, probably attempting to make her back up or cower.

Even though Alex was kind of freaked, she stood her ground and didn't let it show. "Oh really," she replied evenly, staring him dead in the eyes, refusing to be intimidated. "And you're gonna stop me?"

He came closer still, his eyes glacial. "Sit down."

Alex yelped, her legs going out from under her as she plopped down onto the bed, eyes wide. "Hey!"

Castiel moved forward, his brows knitted together as his voice raised. "Uriel, you shouldn't force her to—"

"I will do what is necessary to keep this sack of cells in check," Uriel said, then pointed at Alex. "Learn some respect, child."

She glared, unable to move her legs. "You first, asshole." What the hell was this guy's problem? "And Dean said you were a dick," she muttered to Castiel while looking at Uriel.

"Release her, Uriel," Castiel said lowly. Uriel did, but reluctantly. Alex's spirits lifted fractionally. So, Castiel was in charge. That was a plus. Maybe. Uriel went to stand by the window, hands clasped behind his back where he proceeding to ignore Alex, who stood up cautiously. Castiel watched her, decidedly apologetic. "Uriel is very particular. He can come across as rude."

"Wow, you don't say." That was a very mild way of putting it.

Castiel's head tilted to the side slightly. He looked like he was trying to figure something out. "Why does your voice sound strange?"

His question wasn't what she'd expected. After a moment of surprise, she shrugged. "I have a cold." He didn't seem to immediately know what she meant by that and Alex tilted her head to the side, too. Did he really not know what that was? "You know... like, a virus? I'm sick?" Oddly enough, she was a little amused by his squinty expression. "It happens when you fall asleep outside and then ride a motorcycle across the country in cold, wet weather."

"I see. I'll heal you." Castiel moved forward, hand outstretching.

And then Uriel's forceful voice stopped him. "No. No more unnecessary healings, Castiel."

For whatever reason, Castiel obeyed—but he appeared nearly embarrassed. Alex glowered at Uriel, disliking his implications. "I was drowning in my own lungs—it wasn't unnecessary."

And then Uriel said something that made zero sense. "I wasn't speaking of that time." Uriel fixed Castiel with a sharp look, who looked away as if ashamed.

Alex said nothing. Who did Uriel mean? Maybe Cas was an angel who went around healing humans all the time? Castiel was mollified and quiet, downcast after the correction from Uriel. After a second, Alex tried to cheer him up. "I'm fine, dude. Don't worry about it." It was kind of nice that he wanted to make her feel better. Castiel glanced at her briefly, and he seemed so guilty that Alex felt a protectiveness. Her eyes went to Uriel again, whose back faced her. Her tone took on a sharper edge. "Why would healing someone, if they needed it, be bad? I thought—"

"No one is interested to hear your puny thoughts, mud monkey." Alex made a face at what she immediately recognized as some sort of slur. "Orders for healings should be received by revelation, not simply decided upon by soldiers. Compassion is weakness. Making decisions is not our place. God's will must always be observed. We are not to do as we please." It was as if he were lecturing Castiel, not answering Alex. Chastised, Castiel's eyes remained downcast while his jaw gritted tightly. Damn. Alex actually felt a bad for the guy. If Castiel had been the opposite of what she expected angels to be like, Uriel was even worse. Alex's dreams of what angels were like had now officially been trampled.

Uriel returned to staring out the window in silence, and Alex, feeling frustrated and sour, sat down on the bed, resigning herself to wait for her brothers. Angels or not. Her eyes darted to Castiel, who stood by the door. He looked with hooded eyes at Uriel, almost like there were a bad taste in his mouth. Alex shook her head to herself. Sibling rivalries. Not just for humans, maybe.

After a few moments, Castiel surprised Alex by coming and sitting next to her rigidly. Thrown off, Alex looked at him sidelong, expecting him to explain why he'd suddenly decided to sit there. He turned his head slightly, meeting her questioning gaze, and then his eyes dropped to stare blatantly at her chest. Alex's eyebrows shot up. "What are you—" she fumbled.

He looked at her in the eyes again. "I've been meaning to ask you something. What is a metallica?"

Alex looked down at her shirt in confusion—then she realized she was still wearing one of Dean's old Metallica shirts from when he was younger and three sizes smaller. Alex's eyes came back to Castiel's, an incredulous expression on her face. He was incredibly serious about his question and she laughed out loud briefly in surprise at herself, struck by the unexpected hilarity and out-of-place humor. Was he joking? According to his very studious frown, he was not. And at her laugh, Cas's expression softened into something like surprise. "It's a band," she explained through a grin, seeing that he really didn't know. He blinked, not understanding the word. "A music group?"

He nodded, getting even more serious. "I see." But he was clearly still perplexed. It was oddly endearing and soft, an ancient powerful being asking about her rock band shirt.

Alex wasn't sure if she liked that soft feeling, and thus refocused herself. After all, she had things to ask this angel, her supposed protector. But before asking came the telling: "Okay, listen, I need to get this out of the way: if you ever handcuff me again, I'm gonna kill you."

He had no reaction. "It is nearly impossible to kill an angel."

Alex shrugged. "Well, dammit, I'll find a way." Castiel seemed almost amused by that, his eyes softening as his lips curved up almost imperceptibly... and then it was over just as soon as it had begun, his expression dropping as if he had thought better of showing emotion. He looked away again, stern once more. Perplexed but not discouraged, Alex moved on to her next question. "You two are here about the seals, aren't you?"

Castiel sighed wearily. "Yes. Another is about to be broken if we don't act quickly."

"…And me and my brothers can stop it?" It seemed a logical enough conclusion to jump to.

A long pause lingered. "I don't know."

This was frustrating. Castiel didn't like to give much information out. Alex tried again, switching subjects into one of the more pressing questions she had. "So look, how long exactly have you been, uh, watching over me?"

He didn't look at her, still merely stared straight ahead. "About a year. Before that, Nandriel was your protector."

"Nandriel?"

"She watched over you since birth."

Alex's eyebrows shot up. "Since birth? No way." Forget the fact that she supposedly had a guardian angel right now—she'd always had one?

At the slang 'no way' Cas seemed unsure of how to respond. "Uh—yes, way."

Oh no. Alex's limbs froze as she made a terrible realization. She was beginning to find this guy likable. Taking a few seconds to push the surprised amusement away, she maintained her outward seriousness. "Okay. Well, why the sudden shift in management last year?"

"Nandriel failed. She wanted to become a human and was punished by Heaven."

The more Alex found out about angels, the less she liked it. "Geez. You guys don't play around, huh." She thought offhandedly of the chilling imagery in Revelation, of judgement and violent war. She shook her head, frowning and switching tracks to another unsettling thought: "I don't understand... why would God choose to protect me?" She paused, still unsure if she believed it. "I'm no one. Just a random girl."

Cas disagreed in a tone flat as a board. "You're someone important."

Emotionless or not, the words made Alex's breath catch and eyebrows press in. Intrigued, she powerlessly hung on, waiting for him to say more. Castiel looked at her intensely, and underneath his gaze, she felt small. "Something about you is special to my Father. You are meant to complete some task, or have some impact simply by being alive. Your life is worth something."

Somehow, his words disappointed her. She hadn't known what to expect, but… what was she supposed to do with the sentimental drivel he'd delivered? Alex scoffed. What a crock of shit. Castiel's almost seemed taken aback at her reaction. "Why don't you believe me?"

Alex looked at him sidelong. His question left her feeling disconcerted. She avoided it altogether. "That's a really personal thing to ask."

He took a moment to analyze her words, then nodded once and looked away. "I apologize."

Uriel snorted and muttered something about an angel apologizing to a fool ape. Alex clenched her jaw, forcing herself to stay seated. "What's his problem? Why's he hate humans?"

A muscle jerked in Castiel's cheek and he looked down, brows moving together slightly. "He doesn't hate humans. He's sworn to protect and serve them."

Alex eyed Uriel from underneath her lashes. "Could've fooled me."