Song Remains the Same
Chapter 10 / Tilt-A-Whirled
"He is walking in dreams, not knowing reality's name."
- Wuthering Heights
Alex found herself standing in the middle of a place she didn't recognize at first. Once-colorful now-dingy rides and booths scattered across a flat pavement lot on a foggy, dim day. The Tilt-A-Whirl, merry-go-round, Ferris wheel, and rows of cheap prizes surrounded her, washing a wave of reminiscence over the hunter as she made realization. I've been here before. This place was silent. No people. No movements of any kind. No smell of the animals at the petting zoo or grease from the funnel cake stand. The fog was thick and cool, gently obscuring the near distance. This was a dream. A good dream. She relaxed.
Drawing her in to the right was the bottle toss booth and Alex wandered over, nostalgic for how exciting it had been to play this kind of stuff as a kid. Rows of old Coke bottles crowded shelves and giant stuffed animal prizes rowed against the two walls on either side. The oversized green bear—that was the one she had wanted. At the front of the booth, bowls of beat-up rings waited to be thrown onto the bottle necks. She reached for one, smiling, then stopped, suddenly aware of a change. She felt the distinct sensation of a presence behind her. She turned to see an increasingly familiar sight. Immediately, she was on guard.
"Hello Alex." The angel in the trench coat.
Why was he here? The angel had just waltzed into a dream again without being invited—this time, a personal memory. Maybe something was wrong again. "Cas..." she replied cautiously. She crossed her arms, a silent why are you here?
He studied the scenery, perplexed by the assortment of carnival rides. "Where is this?"
For a minute she thought she wouldn't tell him. Then for whatever reason... she did. "It's a memory. From when I was little."
That stern frown stayed on his face while his eyes contemplated the scenery with even deeper puzzlement. He saw the 'amusement park' sign and grew more shrewd still. "This is a place for amusement?"
"What are you doing here, Cas?" Alex asked tightly. She wanted to be left alone in peace, not answer twenty questions. He turned his gaze back to her and inclined his head just slightly, his eyes intense.
The startling blue made her pinched expression falter. "I know you're wondering why I asked you to return to your brothers when I did."
He said nothing else and Alex found her voice and answered very slowly. "Well yeah..."
Castiel breathed in deeply as if hesitant and his eyes flickered away from hers. "Truthfully, I did it for selfish reasons." He seemed almost contrite.
Wait. Did Cas just want to... talk? Alex hesitated, trying to get his angle then failing. "Okay, uh... meaning what?" She felt curious, but suspicious. Both of herself, and of him.
He was still looking down, his expression grim. "I wanted to influence the outcome of the situation. I wanted to make sure that the city would not be destroyed." It almost seemed like he was confessing sins he held shame over, but those were good things he'd done.
"Yeah and you pulled it off. Nothing wrong with that." The angel looked Alex in the eye again. Alex wondered why he was looking for confirmation that he did the right thing. It was pretty obvious to her. What wasn't obvious was the answer as to why had he accomplished his goal in such a shady way. "Aren't you Uriel's boss?"
He hesitated. "Technically, yes."
"...Then what was the problem?" Alex watched Castiel long and close, trying to figure him out. And then it dawned on her simply. Instantly. Surprisingly. "You don't trust him."
Cas bristled. "I didn't say that."
Alex shrugged, more and more intrigued. "You didn't have to."
He seemed convicted by what she'd said, frowning deeply and looking down. "As I said. Uriel can be many things," Castiel said presently. "The greatest of which is unpredictable. And he has a problem with my methods."
Alex made a bit of a face. "He's not the only one," she muttered softly, thinking back to Pamela's eyes being burned out, Dean's cuts and scrapes from the shattered glass Castiel had rained onto him, the handcuffing, the dream-jacking, the time travel, the town-smiting. Straight up, she didn't think Castiel was trustworthy, let alone Uriel—but like she'd said to Dean... Castiel had brought her brother back from the grave. She couldn't exactly hate him. Still. Life had taught her that almost everyone was plotting to screw you over in the end. And she still didn't know why he was here right now trying to paint himself as an ally. It could be a trick. "Since when do you care about mud monkeys?" Alex deliberately began attempting to draw out Castiel's true character.
He looked affronted at her question. "Those are Uriel's words, not mine. I would never call a human that."
"Uh huh." Alex commented doubtfully. "You'd just level a whole town full of them if two little humans didn't stand in your way."
He looked thrown off and in quick succession, confused. Perhaps he hadn't realized the hypocrisy before. He attempted to cast it aside. "I carry out the commands of God, no matter what they are."
Alex was seriously unsure how he could be so blindly trusting. "But what if they're wrong?" she pressed. "Do you ever even stop to ask yourself that question?"
Castiel hesitated again, then his reply gave her the impression that it was from a script. "That's not possible. There is no fault in God. He is the definition of justice." He paused darkly. "And apart from that, it's not my place to decide right from wrong."
Frustrated, Alex looked away. This was probably pointless. Why bother. "Yeah, great."
"What's wrong?"
His question gave her a turn to bristle. "What isn't wrong?" Seriously. How didn't he see it? "I mean, forget about the whole God thing for a second and I still can't find one thing that's going right." She turned around and grabbed a handful of the rings and began tossing them with angry flair at the Coke bottles. "You don't know why you're protecting me—" clunk "—you don't know what seals are gonna be broken—" clunk "—you don't know if Dean passed the test—" clunk "—you show up and turn my whole friggin' life upside down with your—" clunk "—apocalypse crap, your guardian angel crap—" clunk "and now you're acting like a spineless dumbass." She forgot the stupid bottle toss rings in favor of approaching Castiel in a confrontational manner. "I don't care who or what you are, you don't get to sidestep morality," she said angrily. "You gotta think for yourself, because look at you—you'd kill a whole town of people without missing a beat, without even thinking, if you thought God said to do it. Cas, buddy—that's wrong. And I shouldn't have to explain it to you." She scoffed at his attempts to dodge personal responsibility. "Of course it's your place to decide right from wrong—so the question is, do you really believe it's not, or are you too scared to disobey?"
Castiel's expression had gone from shocked to cold. She'd pissed him off. His jaw set firmly, his voice descended lower, and his gaze bored into hers unflinching. "I hold the power of Heaven in my right hand, and Hell itself could not hold a soul in my grip," he growled, stepping closer and invading her space as he stared down at her. "My knowledge is vast and unending. I am a soldier of the Lord, a warrior. I am your protector and guardian. I'm the one who brought your brother back from the gates of death itself. It is not your place to tell me what to do. You should respect me."
Dramatic. Alex met his gaze without backing down, matching his tone with some fire of her own. "Act respectable and I will." She took the last ring she held and flicked it against his chest just to be an ass. "Also, if I wasn't onto something, you wouldn't have gotten your little feathers in a ruffle like that." In other words, gotcha. His jaw tightened at her retort. Alex wasn't done. "And one more thing, if you have such unending knowledge, how about you tell me why you're protecting me, or what work God has for Dean, or gee, I dunno, how to stop the fucking apocalypse!"
Castiel remained unblinkingly rigid in front of her. "Some things are not meant for you to know."
"Says who?" Alex countered.
Castiel set his mouth. He obviously was just repeating whatever training had been drilled into him. "Alex—have faith. God is in control."
That was rich. "Is he?"
He couldn't or wouldn't, look at her when he replied. "Yes."
It surprised her too when she said it, but she knew it. Could just tell. "You don't even believe that."
His eyes came to her sharply and he was once again defensive. "You don't know what I believe or don't believe."
Alex postured. "So look me in the eye and say God's in control of all this crap." He didn't answer, instead withdrawing into tense silence. Alex grew a shade sorrowful. "I think we both know we're all on our own right now." It was a disheartening reality, but reality all the same. And she felt disappointed, looking over him halfheartedly. He was a sorry sap, but so was she. Believing in absent dads who only had patterns of letting you down. "'Angel,'" she commented ruefully. "More like daddy issues in a grubby trench coat."
Wounded confusion showed. "You don't like my coat?"
Alex felt the smallest surprised smile on her face. Not the response she'd expected. She didn't know how to respond. One moment he was trying to intimidate her, and the next he was sad that she'd insulted his outfit (which she didn't actually think was ugly, but hey—that was the nature of jabs. Insult whatever you had in front of you to work with). Alex studied him in a softer way. His face was currently free of the constant frown, and it made him look younger. More... attractive. She heard herself think that single, dangerous thought and mentally slapped herself. No. Just no. She had to stop that. Grumbling, she crossed her arms and hoped he didn't see her ears burning. "You're really weird, anyone ever tell you that?"
His answer was yet again deadpan. "Yes, frequently."
Again, Alex was taken aback. What was his angle…? And who would have been telling him he was weird? Other angels? The increasing curiosity was a bad sign. Alex didn't like the feeling of losing control over their interaction. "Uh, so, we're good here, right?" she said, cursing how her voice revealed how flustered she felt. "You can leave." She turned and went back to the bottle toss booth, hoping he would take the cue.
She leaned against the surface of the tall tabletop there and stared unseeingly at the bottles lining the wall across from her... then heard soft footsteps approaching. Alex huffed slowly in exasperation as Cas joined her at the tabletop.
The angel in the trench coat looked her way sidelong, his expression grim once more. "When you wake up, it will be November second." Alex's stomach turned as she became triggered by a million negative feelings raining over her all at once as Castiel continued, "The day that—"
"I know what November second is, bro!" She cut him off angrily, standing at her full height. His innocently stung expression at her outburst made her madder. She just wanted to dream in fucking peace! What was wrong with him? Was he really that stpid? "How would I forget that?" she asked incredulously. "The fire, my mom, Sam and the demon blood, my voice... I think I know what tomorrow fucking is!" Cas just stared at her, giving away nothing of what he thought. Alex shook her head, feeling foolish. "I mean come on, first Uriel comes and rubs it in my face, now you?"
Castiel's frown deepened. "What?"
That stopped her short. The tangled web grew even more complicated. "...He didn't tell you?" His expression clearly said no. "Great," she muttered, wondering what he'd think about this: "Well, your friend popped over to threaten Sam's life and tell me I shouldn't feel safe just because I'm under your protection." Castiel's expression darkened, but he made no comment. Defensive, Alex shot him a hostile glance. "Why are you bringing tomorrow up, anyway?"
His answer was not what she expected. "I wanted to express my sympathies."
Not for the first time, his words took the wind out of her sails. "...Oh." She hadn't expected that. And of course felt foolish for her reaction in quick succession. "Thanks," she muttered self-consciously, not even sure how she was supposed to respond. She contemplated him with uncertainty, a feeling like embarrassment crawling up skin hotly. She turned back to lean her elbows on the booth's tabletop edge, her hands clasped as she let out a slow, heavy breath, trying to collect herself and gather her thoughts. November second. It wasn't something she talked about with non-family. Or really with family-family either. The subject was too painful. Cas remained quiet beside her, a presence that reminded her that she wasn't alone. And actually… that felt like a nice thing, even though she wasn't sure why. The pain around her roots went to her soul itself. And after a lifetime of holding all of it in, she finally confessed a thought she'd kept isolated for years. "I never understood how God or whoever could let that happen to my mom. To all of us."
The angel remained quiet for a moment. "Bad things happen so that good can come out of it."
That would have been like a slap in the face if she thought he meant it. But she heard the doubt in his voice. He was just reciting heavenly propaganda. And honestly, that made her sad for him. She looked at him closely. "Is that the kind of stuff you tell yourself so that you can sleep at night?"
He didn't know the saying. "Angels do not require sleep," he replied matter-of-factly.
That one got him an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, okay, maybe that's why you dudes love to crash human's dreams," Alex muttered. It's just a goddamn saying, Cas.
At this point he mimicked her posture, leaning his elbows onto the bar. She looked at him strangely, quieted by the act. What was he doing that for? He seemed reflective almost and she couldn't look away from him, even though she really thought she should. She glimpsed something in his eyes that she hadn't expected to see and didn't know how to name. "I do sometimes wonder what it would be like to dream," he murmured, catching her off guard. There was a vulnerable quality to the sadness in his quiet statement. He turned his head slightly to look at her—his expression surprisingly unguarded and open—and she got stuck there for a couple breaths until she was able to drag her flustered gaze away.
"You're uh, you're not missing much." She cleared her throat, attempting to regain indifference. Turning away, she rested her back to the counter and did some quick thinking. Any hope of having this dream to herself was gone. She might as well take advantage of the opportunity. His little reminder about tomorrow had her thinking about something she'd been thinking about awhile now. "While you're here. There's something I've been meaning to ask you. If that's okay"
Cas was intrigued, studying her for a drawn out beat before he prompted her. "Ask it."
She braced herself, then took the plunge. "...Was I supposed to have demon blood too?"
Did he even know? Cas took the question in stride. He almost seemed empathetic as he thought his answer over then delivered it. "More than likely yes. Nandriel's presence and your mother's interruption prevented that from occurring." Cas watched her face work for a moment. Hearing that was alarming and a relief all at once. But one thing still didn't make sense.
Alex wet her lips uncertainly. "Why my voice? Why did Azazel do that to me?"
Castiel's eyes narrowed introspectively. His blue eyes blazed at some distant point in front of them. "My best guess is that when your mother interrupted, Azazel took your voice as for the sake of cruelty. A reminder to you and your family that he had taken more than just your mother." He met her questioning gaze grimly. "It was an attempt to isolate you from everyone."
'Attempt' was a gracious word. Her entire life had been turned to a silent hell because that yellow-eyed demon was petty. Bitter tears veiled her eyes and she blinked against them angrily. "Well it worked," she managed in a wounded whisper. Azazel had taken her voice to alienate her from her family and the world around her. He'd sentenced her to a lifetime of being stuck in her own head. A lifetime of being unable to be part of the normal surrounding her.
Castiel's eyes were full of a solitary hopeful apprehension. "Are things different now?" His voice was almost a whisper.
Alex's eyes jumped to his. There was something in his tone she'd never heard there before, something very gentle indeed that made her feel bewildered. His eyes waited for her reply and her stomach fluttered. Wait. "Yes they are," she whispered, feeling entranced and vulnerable against the shadow of a very astonishing thought that ran across her mind. His expression was soft. He was glad, and he didn't need to say so out loud. She could plainly see it. The thought in her mind grew. No, she dismissed with growing emotion. Impossible. But something about the look on his face and the sentiment in his eyes made that thought grow to the point where she couldn't ignore it.
She had never realized before this moment, but now it had descended onto her like a thunderclap: she'd gotten her voice back not long after he began watching over her. Left breathless at the possibility, she tested her theory with utmost caution. "How long did you say you've been watching me again...?" She knew exactly how long it was. She just wanted to see if he would react. And he did. Her astounded feelings tripled when he turned a shade guilty—he knew exactly what she why she was asking that, the look on his face confirmed it. And now there was no air in her lungs, only a racing heartbeat resounding through her whole body. There was only one reason she could fathom. "It was you?"
Cas faltered in the face of her blunt question. He left her hanging for three seconds far too long. Then he shattered her world, leaving her dumb and dazed when he admitted the truth. "Yes."
She exhaled softly, that single word doing things to her she couldn't fathom. Normally, she would have never taken someone who she knew as little as she knew Cas at face value but... for whatever reason, she believed him immediately. He abruptly turned and walked a few paces off, keeping his back to her. "Wait!" Paranoid he was about to disappear, she followed by a step and a half, breathless. He did stop, but he didn't turn back. She couldn't see his face—if she could have, she would have seen an openly conflicted, worried expression. Absolutely lost, Alex hovered and waited for him to say something. Anything. When he didn't, she asked a single, forlorn, "Why?" Cas turned back around, his face hard to read. She struggled to understand. "What, God commanded it or, or something?"
Castiel's expression showed a strange mixture of what looked like guilt and distress and possibly even shame. His jaw tightened and he looked down. "No. It was not commanded."
Jesus Christ...! Her mind flew a million miles an hour, trying to understand why on earth he would do that. She drifted closer. "Then why?" His eyes darted back up to hers, but he remained silent. "Please, Cas—tell me." Her pride was a memory. She starved for answers.
His eyes fell away from hers once again and scanned the ground between their feet. For a minute, Alex thought he wouldn't answer. And then he did. "Ever since I began to watch you." His features worked strangely, as if not even he understood what he was saying. "I... felt your pain. Your... loneliness." He looked to her as if he wanted help understanding what he was saying, and it floored Alex. A muscle jerked in his cheek. He seemed unsure of himself. "I felt compassion for you. I... wanted... you to be able to speak. I wanted to heal you. And so I did. There's no grand reason."
Alex felt like she'd been slammed with a brick wall of epiphany. Suddenly, Uriel's lecture about unnecessary healings made sense, and at the same time, Alex remembered every insult and disrespect she had thrown Castiel's way. Mortified, she struggled how to even put her thoughts into words. He'd given her a new chance at life—for no apparent reason but the goodness of his own heart. Her eyes glazed over even as she fumbled to understand, to thank him, to try and make up for how she'd misjudged. "I... you... I don't know what to... I... Castiel... thank you." Her mouth worked as she tried to keep her composure. He watched her with grave studiousness and his gaze passed over the tears shining in her eyes. His eyebrows grew a little closer together. "Thank you," Alex repeated tightly. "I, I can never repay you." She wet her lips, trying to understand even as she fought to keep her face from crumpling. She suddenly understood that she owed everything to this angel. It scared her, it made her dizzy, it puzzled her to no end. "Wh-why didn't you tell me this before?"
Their eye contact lingered and he appeared to be intimidated by the interaction. "The reasons aren't important," he sidestepped.
"They're important to me."
Castiel said nothing for a long moment before he reluctantly revealed another bombshell. "I faced discipline for what I did."
Again, Alex was blindsided. He'd been punished for helping her? She could read between the lines. He remained grim, his eyes dodging hers. And she wondered why all over again. Why would he have risked so much for a human who had attempted to kill him the first time they met? Who had mistrusted and believed the worst of him? And why would Heaven punish an act of compassion? She didn't understand at all. "They... they hurt you for helping me?"
His eyes looked back into hers. The tone of her voice seemed to puzzle and intrigue him. It was almost like he didn't even hear her question.
"You—you gave me back what was mine," Alex insisted when the silence got too much. "Nothing about that's wrong."
His expression stayed unreadable, but open in a way that wasn't normal for him. Like he was truly listening. Considering believing her.
Alex was overcome as she thought about what he had done. "I... you gave me what I always needed, and wanted..." she trailed off, chickening out of saying her complete gratitude. It was too personal. Too intense. So she stopped. He held her gaze hesitantly, maybe uncomfortable with her attempts at thankfulness, maybe still unsure if he had done the right thing. Maybe something else entirely. "Look. I'm sorry. If I had known—that it was you—" Alex impulsively reached out and touched his forearm. He tensed at her touch and frowned, looking at her hand oddly. Alex faltered—he must not like to be touched. She let go, embarrassed. She wasn't even sure why she'd done that. She attempted to finish speaking, even though she felt hot from humiliation. "If I had known you were the one who did that for me..." she stopped, shaking her head and looking away for a moment before looking back. "Thank you. Just, thank you." She felt incredibly awkward and humbled.
He studied her for a long moment. His deep cobalt eyes seemed soulful. There was a warmth there she had never seen before and it proved impossible to drag her gaze away from. "You're welcome." His voice sounded huskier than it had a moment ago.
Spellbound, Alex could only stand there as they studied each other's eyes deeply, each wondering and thinking. Something had shifted between them today.
"I'm still curious about something," Cas ventured after a moment. "About what this memory of yours is."
She blinked a couple times. "Oh." She hesitated, looking around. For a moment, nothing had existed but the angel in the trench coat and all the questions brewing about him. Smiling bittersweetly to herself, she recalled the specifics. "It's... one of my good memories with my dad." She didn't need to add on this part, but did anyway: "There's not a lot of those."
Again, his eyes studied hers deeply. And then without warning, Castiel changed the subject. His eyes left hers to look at the Tilt-A-Whirl, then the bumper kart corral. "People ride these things?"
Alex was too jolted to respond for a long second, confused about the sudden switch in topics. She followed his gaze, feeling inherently awkward. "Wh—uh, yeah," she managed uncertainly. "People ride these things." She was mystified all over again. The more she found out about him, the more questions there were. "Haven't you been around since, um, the dawn of time?"
"And before then, too," he answered, still looking around at the scenery in what might be called stern fascination. His previous soft demeanor was gone, and he was the gruff angel she was more familiar with once more.
She felt herself smiling a little though, because if he'd been around that long, what had he been doing? "Then why don't you know about like, I dunno, handshakes and personal space and carnival rides?" Unlike her earlier questions to him, she wasn't being sarcastic or rude. She honestly wanted to know.
Cas smirked at that briefly, somehow finding humor in her question, and there were little smile lines crinkling the corners of his eyes. That was the first time she had seen him smile for real. It surprised her. And she liked it, found it intriguing. "I suppose you could say..." he thought for a moment, "that I've missed a few of the details." He looked at her again and both their expressions fell ever so slightly. "Until I obtained my vessel, I saw the world and humanity through a very thick veil."
She took that in thoughtfully. "And when you got your vessel...?"
His expression softened and his eyes drifted to see someplace far away as he reflected. "Every day has held uncountable wonders. It's so complex. Creation. People. Life." He seemed genuine and truly reverent.
For a moment, she wistfully envied Cas's take on things. "Sounds nice," she said, both honest and bleak at the same time. Being human sucked and hurt, at least in her experience.
Castiel contemplated her with an unreadable expression. "I suppose your less than positive impression is understandable," he said softly. "All your life, you've been fighting."
His insight was uncanny, which threw her off. Was the clueless thing an act, or what? "Yeah," she agreed, dwelling on reality and fate again like it or not. The end of the goddamn world—the end of the human race. The more Alex sat with it, the more she feared the worst. "Do you think we actually have a shot?" she asked with surprising amounts of vulnerability. "At stopping the apocalypse?"
Castiel studied her grimly for a beat, then took in a heavy breath and let it out. "Times are dark. The future is very uncertain. Much will be lost." Well that was optimistic. Alex swallowed against the foreboding feeling in her stomach. In her mind's eye, she saw two young men who she needed in her life. Sudden fear avalanched over her, and it must have reflected on her face. Because the angel saw it and so softly asked, "What is it?"
Eyes that had drifted away from him snapped back. And she was startled by how much she was letting herself feel in his presence... then quickly afraid of the instinct to tell him the truth resting deep down in her gut. It took a long moment of consideration to speak aloud with such vulnerable truth, and with eyes stinging from gathering tears, she shook her head shallowly. "I just—I'm... scared."
His seriousness was tempered by empathy, and his expression remained soft as he moved toward her more closely. "An understandable state to find yourself in."
Alex looked at him with dark, conflicted eyes. "Do you ever feel afraid?" Her whispered question hung between them and visibly startled him, no matter how well he hid it.
Then he held himself a little taller and reached out to her. She didn't shrink back. He didn't answer her question, but the look in his eyes would stay with her for a very long time to come indeed. "It's time for you to wake up, Alex."
The last thing she remembered was the look in his eyes as two fingertips came to softly touch the side of her forehead.
Alex abruptly woke up laying awkwardly in the back of the Impala. But she could still feel the warm buzz under her skin where Castiel's fingers had grazed. The dream and his face remained with her as she laid there for a long moment, trying to process. She was filled with a deep sadness that transcended grogginess.
She realized that the car wasn't running. It was silent, and neither Sam or Dean were inside. She could see that the sky outside was still dim, like the sun hadn't come up yet. She sat slowly, casting glances around until she saw the familiar figures of her brothers—Sam's tall, broad-shouldered one, Dean's shorter, more compact. The brothers stood about twenty feet off from the car at the edge of a large field. Alex scooted out of the car and went to them, shivering. It was cold and damp, a morning where fog laid low like a blanket across the sleepy world. The sun would be up soon—the sky was pale violet. Frost crunched under her boots.
Her brothers acknowledged her arrival with a glance (Dean), and a tight smile (Sam). "November second," Sam said softly, eyes fixed on the horizon.
Alex echoed him quietly. "November second."
There was a long, heavy silence, all three of the Winchesters lost in their own thoughts. Alex wanted so badly to tell them about the dream... about Castiel... about the feeling she couldn't shake that something horrible was on the way. But she remained silent.
Sam finally spoke up softly. "You know, when I think about everything we've lost... all the complete crap we've been through... all because of him." They knew who Sam was talking about. Azazel.
"Wish I could've stopped it," Dean said softly. "I tried. I tried like hell. I could've prevented you from being pumped full of demon blood, Sam. I could've saved you from spending your life mute, Alex. Mom could've even lived, maybe. Dad would still be here..." his voice was thick with pain and guilt he didn't deserve to carry, and Alex peered over at him. It was hard to see very well in the dark, but he was miserable.
"Hey," she said softly. "What Yellow Eyes did wasn't your fault. It never will be." She paused, staring down at the ground, her hands in her jacket pockets. "And this family, what's left of it... it's stronger than what he threw at us. He tried to silence me, he tried to use Sam. He tried to rip us apart." She looked up at the brightening horizon. "It didn't work."
"I'll drink to that." Dean was distracted but gave her a half-smile. Sam put his arm around Alex, squeezing her shoulder tightly. A silent promise that they would keep working toward unity.
For another long moment, silence spanned the group. In the distance, a raven called. Sam wet his lips and then spoke to the air in front of him. "Mom. Wherever you are... I just hope we make you proud."
With a somber heart, Alex stared out at the horizon, stone-faced. Castiel's words haunted her. Times are dark. The future is very uncertain. Much will be lost.
They drove the rest of that day, mostly in silence and reflection. Alex went back and forth mentally, trying to figure out how to bring up Cas's visit in her dream. She spaced out, staring at the ceiling as she mentally picked apart the dream piece by piece. Wondered about Mom. Hoped Castiel was wrong about the apocalypse. All while she endlessly repeated the moment she'd learned it was Castiel who changed her life. It made emotion rise when she thought about it too much. No one had made him. He'd wanted to. What was she supposed to do with that information? Or the way it made her feel?
Finally, Dean declared that it was time to stop and eat. He picked a local bar and grill that boasted a ridiculous dancing pineapple mascot. Once seated inside, Dean hungrily scanned the menu and Alex sat silently, feeling queasy. She exchanged a glance with Sam, who she knew still wanted to ask Dean about Hell. He hadn't found an opportunity yet, and neither had she.
A scrawny pale guy in a bright vest covered in shiny, multicolored pins arrived to their table, an order pad in hand. He had the most ridiculous smile on his face. Alex was immediately annoyed. "Alllllright folks, how we doing? Great!" the server chirped without giving them a chance to reply. "Start you guys off with a chili dog dipper to share? A delicious MexiNacho fiesta?"
"No, we—" Sam started.
"Get you guys a nice cheddar roaster burger, huh? Or our jalapeño Frito pie—it's great on days like this!" Days where your mom died? Days where you are about to confront your brother on what Hell was like? Days where an angel basically implied you would lose both of your brothers in the coming days?
"I'll have the chef salad," Sam said, handing his menu over cautiously as if the server might be contagious.
Dean snapped his menu shut. "Burger. With bacon. And cheese. All the toppings, extra onions. Do not burn it. Fries on the side, extra crispy. And bring me some house whiskey shots."
"Sure thing! How many, man?"
"I dunno, let's start with six," Dean said nonchalantly, to which the server's eyes went fractionally wider. He peered at Dean over to top of his notepad, trying to determine if the ask was serious. Even Sam and Alex looked at Dean oddly.
"Uh, okie doke!" the server said, resuming his inhumanly wide smile. He turned to Alex. "And what for the lovely lady?"
"Nothing, thanks."
The server attempted a sale anyway. "How about our new smoky and sweet chicken-delishen sandwich? Super yummy!"
"No, I—"
"Or our in-house specialty, the fire-grilled pineapple enchiladas? Yum-o!"
Alex gave him her best death glare. "I said nothing."
His smile faltered, then was back with a vengeance. "Okay, well just let me know if you change your—"
She lost her cool. "Just go away dude!"
"Uh yeah, right on." The server scurried away.
"Me-ow," Dean commented with a chuckle. He got a bitchy expression from his sister in response.
"You really should eat something, Alex," Sam said, worry coloring his tenor tone. "You've lost weight."
Alex ignored his comment and cut to the chase, fiddling with her silverware. "Cas is the one who gave me my voice back."
Two shocked expressions immediately followed. "What?!"
"Yup. He showed up again in a dream last night and... it was him." She clanged her fork down onto the table and looked at both in turn as shocked silence reigned.
"Did he say why?" Sam asked, incredulously.
Alex studied her fork very closely. It felt more personal to talk about this than she'd anticipated. "The goodness of his own heart."
Both of her brothers immediately looked very suspicious. "It wasn't a, you know, God thing?" Dean asked pointedly.
"Apparently not. He said he got in trouble for it."
"So he did it... on his own?" Dean surmised, darkening. He didn't look like he liked that sound of that at all.
"The plot thickens," Sam muttered, and Dean's face kept working overtime, his expression confounded and then pissed and then doubtful.
For the next few minutes they theorized back and forth halfheartedly. Then Dean ended it with an exasperated "Freakin' angels. Who knows!"
The food arrived in a few minutes and Alex waited as long as humanly possible to bring up the next subject to her oldest brother. After his fifth bite of burger and a couple shots, she charged forward. "So, listen Dean. Uriel paid us a visit yesterday." Sam stopped mid-bite, glancing at Alex before looking at Dean intently.
"How nice," Dean said flatly, then downed his third shot.
Alex leaned forward over her folded arms, trying to get his attention. "Which part? The one where he threatened to turn Sam to dust when he uses his powers again, or the part where he told us to ask you what you remember from Hell?"
Dean almost choked and went into a brief coughing fit before he asked: "Come again?"
"What, you got a hearing problem?" Sam asked softly.
Dean looked between his siblings and then drew the conclusion that they were ambushing him. "Okay, first of all, I don't remember Hell, at all. And second, when were you gonna tell me a damn angel threatened your life, Sam?"
"Forget the threat, Dean. That's neither here nor there. Why would Uriel tell me you remembered Hell if you didn't?"
"Maybe because he's a dick," Dean retorted gruffly. "Might have something to do with it."
"What, he told us that just to screw with our heads?" Alex knew Dean well enough to see he was bothered, and that meant there was something to all this.
"Yeah, I dunno! I mean this is the angel who was ready to level an entire town guys. Look, I don't know what—"
"Radical!" The cheerful server from hell was back, unaware of the argument he was interrupting. "What else can I get you guys?"
"Uh, I think we're fine," Sam said, trying to politely get rid of the server. It didn't work.
"Yeah? You guys don't wanna try a couple of fryer bombs? Or a chipotle chili changa? We've got fried cheesecake ice cream sundaes on deck too and oh boy they're awesome!"
"We're good," Sam said in a forced civil tone while Alex gave the server an evil eye. This dude was too much, especially right now.
The server looked over at her, his smile faltering. "Okay, awesome!" He made his departure.
Dean glanced at Alex. By now he'd had a chance to school himself into a more composed, unreadable mood. "Look, honestly, I got no idea why Uriel told you what he did, okay?" He smiled a very sarcastic, acrimonious smile and attempted to down another shot. Alex's hand darted out and grabbed the shot glass right out of his hand just before he had it at his lips. "Hey!" Dean exclaimed. She leaned back in her chair, holding the shot out of his reach.
"You're lying."
"I am not! Give me my damn shot." Dean swiped angrily at the shot glass as Alex continued to primly deprive him of it.
"Okay, fine," Sam said, attempting to reason with Dean. "If you're not lying, look me in the eye and tell me you don't remember a thing from your time down under."
Sam waited expectantly. Dean met Sam's gaze impatiently. "I don't remember a thing from my time down under," he insisted, getting more pissed by the second especially when Sam gave him a dubious look. "I don't remember, Sam!" A few people at a nearby table looked over curiously at Dean's loud outburst.
"Look, Dean, we just wanna help," Sam appealed, trying to play the compassion card.
Dean shot him down. "You know everything I do. Okay? That's all there is!"
"Outstanding!" said the cheerful server, who seemed to reappear out of thin air. At the sight of him, Alex took the shot she'd kidnapped and downed it, much to Dean's dismay. "Dessert time? Huh? Am I right?"
"Dude." Dean was quickly losing patience with the server and with his siblings both.
"We don't want any," Alex added in, her tone decidedly menacing.
Still, the server's plastered smile didn't waver and he launched into another attempt at upselling. He leaned down over the table as if sharing some great secret with them. "You have got to try our ice cream extreme. It's extreme."
Alex crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. "Yeah, bring me some. I'll shove it right up your—"
"Whoa whoa whoa. Just the check, man," Sam said, attempting a lighthearted chuckle to cover up his siblings' rudeness.
"All right! Awesome!" The server whipped their bill out from behind his pin-studded vest and slapped it on the table. Using it as a distraction, Alex snatched another one of Dean's shots.
"Hey!" he exclaimed as their server walked off. It was too late, Alex had already drained it and smacked the glass down onto the table as Dean glowered.
Sam just sighed, flustered and a little embarrassed. People were staring. Guarding the last couple shots he had, Dean looked at his brother. "All right, so, where do we go from here?"
"I'm not sure," Sam sighed. "Uh, looks like it's been pretty quiet lately. No signs of demon activity, no omens or portents I can see."
Dean took it as a positive. "Cool. So good news for once."
Alex made a sound like pssh. "It's too quiet," she muttered. "Remember the whole apocalypse thing?"
Dean's expression soured as he got ready to take a sip of beer. "Trying not to."
Sam, who had pulled his laptop out, handed it over to Dean. "Here, check this out. Up in Concrete, Washington, eyewitness reports of a ghost that's been haunting the showers of a women's health facility." Dean choked on his beer. "The victim claims that the ghost threw her down a flight of stairs." Dean threw his napkin onto his plate and crammed a couple last fries into his mouth. Sam chuckled. "I can see you're very interested."
Dean was slapping down cash onto the table, suddenly in a huge hurry. "Women, showers. We have got to save these people."
Even though she was pissed at him, Alex had to chuckle wearily at typical Dean behavior. He gave her a cheerful wink, already pushing the chair in and heading for the door. The twins got up and made to follow. "Why's he in charge, again?" Alex asked her twin. He was a little more serious and pulled her back for a second as Dean walked ahead.
"It'll come out, Alex" Sam told her quietly. "He'll tell us eventually. I know he will."
Her mood tanked again. "Yeah..." Alex replied, but she wasn't sure. Dean had enough issues to fill the Grand Canyon, but almost always refused to face them. He was constantly on emotional lockdown... even to his family. Did he really remember the horrors of Hell? If so, why wouldn't he tell either her or Sam? Deeply troubled, Alex trailed her brothers out of the restaurant.
"Have a nice day! Come back and see us!" the server yelled after, waving and smiling like he was saying goodbye to an old friend. It took all Alex had not to turn around and salute him with a middle finger.