Song Remains the Same

by R. W. Winters

For Alex Winchester, normal has never been in the equation. Mute since the nursery fire, she grew up on the road chasing ghosts with her brothers and father. When her voice is inexplicably restored and the angel Castiel appears claiming to be her guardian, both of their lives change forever in ways that Heaven and Earth never expected. Castiel/OFC. Sisfic - S4-9 - Alternate Ending.

16. The Becoming

Song Remains the Same

Chapter 16 / The Becoming

"But what of the wretched hollow? The endless in between?"
- Imogen Heap

---

A Week Later

Alex stared stonily into the flames where the body of her half-brother Adam burned.

She'd only learned of his existence a few days ago.

Just when she thought nothing else could ever surprise her ever again... life had been turned upside down once more. Alex thought she should probably be sad that she never got a chance to meet the real Adam—sad that she hadn't known of his existence until a few days ago—sad that he died a slow and painful death at the hands of vengeful ghouls… but her dominant emotion was was a sense of pained confusion. And extremely disoriented wooziness. But that probably had something to do with the alcohol.

She turned away from her brothers and loped off into the woods, her flask clutched tightly. Her brothers watched her go and exchanged a glance then turned back to the fire, giving her space. It was a good thing too. Sam and Dean would have taken the flask from her right then and there if they knew what was inside. A few years ago they had banned her from drinking absinthe entirely... it made her turn a little psycho... but she still snuck some at times. And today, of all days, she needed it.

Adam… did Dad name you? Is his name similar to mine on purpose? Starts with A, four letters… Alex mourned for someone she didn't even know. Her breath made little puffs in the winter air as her boots crunched against the frosty ground. She was at the point where she was all out of anger and instead full of pained questions that she didn't want to have to ask. She thought she knew Dad. She thought she knew him. How could he have another kid out there they had never known about? Why would he never tell them about Adam? Why'd they have to find out like this?

The thought of John Winchester soured Alex's mood and she bitterly swigged down more burning absinthe to numb the feelings. She stumbled a little, toe catching on a tree root. Maybe I shouldn't be standing right now. Plunking down unevenly to lean against a large tree trunk, she worked on nursing the booze. It burned like a bitch, but was doing the job of medicating her, numbing her, making everything seem funny and ridiculous instead of painful and raw. Soon she'd be totally plastered. She sighed really loudly and shut her eyes, turning the flask up. She was beginning to feel good and loopy, like nothing mattered. Also, the world was spinning.

Alex took another huge gulp and when she opened her eyes she almost choked—standing in front of her was Cas. Startled, she dropped the flask, the contents clumsily sloshing around. She grabbed it up and hugged it to herself, frowning up at Cas. He was difficult to see in the dim light but the mere sight of him made her feel odd, and she got mad about it. "What're you doing here?"

He stepped a little closer, and she could see his face a little better in the light from the fire that was twenty feet off. He was looking down at her intently... was that concern on his features, or judgement? "I sensed your sorrow from Heaven," he said, his deep voice steady. "I thought I should see if you were…" he looked at the container she was clinging to—his expression wavered a little. "All right."

She giggled throatily—he was cute, wasn't he—she tilted the flask toward him, as if in salute. "Good for you, Cas," she said, saying his name slowly and deeply. It sounded so hilarious to her, and she was giggling again before she got peevish again. "Now... unless you've got vodka or tequila with you, go away."

"I... have neither," he stated, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

"Then get lost… I have things to do," she said.

Cas crouched down in front of her, searching her face sternly and she was a little caught of guard by his closeness and how deep his eyes looked, how vast the brilliant blue spheres looked in the darkness. "Things to do?" He asked her. "Such as sitting here in the dark and consuming potentially lethal amounts of alcohol?"

She canted her head sideways, momentarily intrigued. "Was that you being funny?" She pointed a finger at him then shook it like she was chiding him. Her face was flushed with drunkenness. "I like you, angel man," she slurred, then accidentally hit herself in the teeth with the metallic rim of the flask. "Ouch, son of a bitch," she mumbled, clapping a hand to her lower face with a grimace.

Cas tilted his head slightly, not understanding, but obviously trying to. "Why are you doing this, Alex?"

"Doing what?" She asked, her good humor slipping. Something about his tone didn't sit well with her. Feeling like she was being judged, Alex glared. "I can do what I want, " she said acidly, no longer in a good mood—at all. Getting angry that she wasn't blasted enough yet to be at the point of not caring, she crossed her arms over her chest and the contents of the flask sloshed. "You wouldn't get what I'm going through. Why this hurts so frickin' bad." She snorted. "And I doubt you'd wanna know, either…"

Cas contemplated her quietly. Then with the most gentle tone she'd ever heard him use, he shook his head no shallowly. "I do want to know."

Whatever she'd expected from him... it hadn't been that. Struck in a way that left her blinking back surprised, touched tears, Alex shook her head shallowly a bunch of times, trying to hold back the floodgate of emotion. But it still came out in a pained whisper. "Why'd he do it, Cas? Why? Why'd he take Adam to baseball games, and teach him to drive and visit for his birthday?" She stared off unseeingly into Castiel's right shoulder, breathing heavily through her nose, glazing over. "He forgot mine and Sam's birthday all the time and left me behind on half the hunts and made us do stupid training drills aaaaallllll day..." she chuckled darkly, a sound that was blurred by the alcohol. "You wanna know my favorite part? He refused to learn sign language, said I didn't need to, said he was gonna find a way to fix me, oh, and that he didn't have the time, blah, blah, blah… ah, bastard. That son of a bitch." She was laughing now. "Makes sense now huh—he had a normal son Adan he rathered spend time with…" she made a face, hearing herself beginning to lose her grasp of the english language. "He didn't want the world to know about his freak kid Alex who couldn't talk or his son Dean who was never good enough, or Sam who hated the family business." She got quiet, stared a minute, then looked at Cas sullenly.

He shocked her when he put a tentative hand onto her arm, just above her wrist. The touch was hesitant and uncertain and for a minute, behind the haze of drunkenness, Alex felt shocked. What is he doing? For a minute, she was scared and confused for reasons she didn't know. Then she yanked her hand away from his at to herself, looking at him mistrustfully, trying to figure out what his motive was. "You need to stop asking me all these questions," she said really loudly, trying to defend herself against how he was making her feel. Then she frowned to herself, not sure if she remembered him asking anything at all. Cas seemed chastened when she pulled her hand away, slightly rueful, like he had done the wrong thing and felt... embarrassed? Getting agitated again—with everything, herself, him, the warm feeling crawling all over her skin, Alex jerked back, standing up and almost falling sideways. Cas stood too, clearly ready to catch her if she fell over. "Well, screw my dad, and screw this, and screw—uh, screw the… um, uh the…" she forgot what she was going to say and swore in aggravation, went to take another swig of the alcohol... but Castiel silently took the flask from her.

"Hey! Give me that!" she shouted, and tried grabbing it, only to pitch forward unsteadily. Dropping the flask unceremoniously, Cas caught her, bracing her with strong hands, and she stared into his eyes, startled. His serious, apprehensive face was only inches from hers. She looked at his lips and her stomach flopped, a strange sensation pitted in the bottom of it. She looked up at his eyes, thought she imagined it maybe, but saw his eyes flicker upward, like he'd been looking at her lips, too. His eyebrows were pressed together closely, turning upwards in a strange expression. She swallowed deeply, began to breathe heavily, getting really annoyed with Castiel, or maybe it was with herself. "Stop doing that," she growled and tried pushing him, but he wouldn't budge.

"Doing what?" he asked, sounding slightly frustrated with her.

"The…" she stared into his eyes dumbly, forgetting words—so, so blue. Was that even possible for them to be so blue? He was waiting for her to reply and she got flustered. "Uh," she blinked a couple times. "I don't… know?" she answered honestly. She couldn't remember what she meant or what she was mad about, and the world was beginning to turn all kinds of strange angles and directions and her stomach was beginning to feel queasy. I overdid it. She couldn't quite manage to keep her head in one place, and felt like she might float apart into a bunch of pieces. She moaned in annoyance and flopped her head forward, knocking it against Cas's chest. With her wrists each gripped tightly by his hands, she was hopelessly stuck.

"Hey, what's going on?" Dean's gruff voice came, along with the sound of his boots against leaves. He stopped short, seeing Alex in Castiel's grip. "Cas? What're you doing?"

"Yes. Hello Dean. Sam." Castiel was distracted and seemed mildly exasperated as Sam came up behind Dean. He looked down at the back of Alex's head in something like chagrin. "Your sister is very intoxicated."

"No inn not," Alex insisted matter-of-factly, her head shooting up. She swayed a little in Cas's grip.

"Geez," Sam commented, and the brothers looked at each other in a mixture of annoyance and exasperation. "Sorry Cas, she's a sloppy drunk," Sam said apologetically, grabbing the forgotten flask up from where it had fallen and sniffing it, then immediately grimacing. "Uh—absinthe."

Dean threw his hands up. "What the hell, Alex?" he demanded. "You know how that crap makes you!" Dean was aghast and chagrined. "I turn my back on you for two seconds and… look at you—you're completely shitface hammered!"

"No-ooo I'm no-ooot—!" Alex shouted in a weird cadence defensively. The alcohol had fully hit, and she was raging drunk at this point.

"Sure you're not," Dean said flatly, grabbing her from Cas by both arms.

She was further agitated by that and squirmed. "Lemme go!"

"Come on, Al, don't be like that," Dean tried, but she had pretty much lost any clarity she had.

"Make me, ugly!" she yelled, receiving an annoyed eye roll from Dean. Absinthe turned her into a raving lunatic.

"Ahh geez. It's been awhile since you've been this trashed," he commented wryly as her hand found its way into his face—she was trying to push him away ineffectively and Dean had to lean away before she poked his eye out or accidentally stuck a finger up his nose in her clumsy attempt. "Hey—uff—watch it!" he protested, struggling to subdue her.

"Get off me, because, I'm gonna kill you all," she declared, squirming without stopping. "Kiiiiiiill you all!"

Castiel's expression went dark. "Alex, you know I can't allow you to do that."

"Oh my god," Sam was laughing now, maybe because that was all there was left to do. "Don't worry Cas," he said evenly, amusement playing on his features. "Anything she says right now… just don't take it seriously."

"I'll do it, I will!" Alex was losing it, and fast. "And you'll be sorry, sorry, srrrry…" she suddenly stopped and made a strange face. "I'm gonna be sick, uuugh..." Dean let her go and she stumbled a few steps and then fell forward, collapsing into a heap where she moaned in discomfort but did not throw up as she'd said.

"Should we… help her somehow?" Cas asked as he looked down at her with a face screwed up in confusion and worry.

"How?" Dean asked, staring at his sister in almost embarrassment. "It's a waiting game at this point."

On the ground, Alex was trying to stand up, but rolled over onto her side, mumbling incoherently, then asking, "where are we?"

Dean covered half his face with a hand and shut his eyes, heaving a deep breath.

"This would be funny if it wasn't so pathetic," Sam said, looking at Dean for agreement. Dean just made a face.

Alex was groaning loudly, mumbling. "I wanna drive the empanda, no one ever lets me drive the implalana… ah…?"

Dean got an idea and turned to Castiel. "Cas buddy, I think I know how you can help."

That got the angel's attention. "How?" Cas asked, his frown deepening intently, like he was anxious to do so.

"Lay your hands on," Dean said. "Send her to la la land."

Cas didn't understand the reference. "Send her… where?"

"Cas, just lay her out!" Dean said, getting impatient. "Do your angel mumbo jumbo and put her to sleep so I don't have to put up with this crap! Cuz trust me, it'll go on all night."

"I'm not sure—" Cas started.

Dean was hauling Alex to her feet. "Lemme go lemme go, I'm dot nrunk," Alex slurred, pitching wildly in Dean's arms. Again, she tried to put her hands in his face.

"Mffbhhhh!" Dean leaned his head back and manhandled his sister in his arms, trying to get her away from his face, turning her outward to face Cas. "Anytime now, Cas! Just do it!" Castiel hesitated, then complied and touched two fingers to her forehead. She went slack in Dean's arms.

"Thank you," Dean said, very relieved, to which Cas just gave him a grudging look.

"We'll hear about this in the morning," Sam said, sounding like he was already dreading it.

"If she can remember a damn thing," Dean pointed out.

"...True," Sam said, seeming to be encouraged by the idea.

Heaving a huge sigh, Dean nodded toward the Impala, which was parked back near the fire that was now dying down. "Help me shove her in the back seat."

Dean hooked his arms under Alex's armpits and Sam got her feet. "Hey, Cas—" Dean turned to his left, where Castiel had been, but saw that the angel was gone. He looked around and saw him nowhere, frowned. "What the hell, man? Where'd he go?"

"Who knows," Sam said as they started toward the car.

"Great," Dean muttered sarcastically.

"You know, last time she got this wasted was when you died, Dean," Sam said, walking backwards and watching over his shoulder as they carried Alex's unconscious form.

"Yeah, well, I get why she's upset," Dean said. "But, I mean, really? Absinthe? I thought we all agreed she never needed to drink that crap again." He shook his head, aggravated. "That's just what I needed to end today with… Alex making this whole thing about herself."

They reached the car, Sam balancing Alex's feet awkwardly on his knee with one hand as he pried the car door open. He threw her legs onto the seat. "I don't think that's fair, Dean. I mean, we're all pretty upset about Adam, Dad… the whole nine."

Dean shoved the rest of her awkwardly into the back as Sam helped. "My point exactly. Why does she get to freak out about it on such a spectacularly insane level?"

They stood back. "Because, I dunno. Like you said to me earlier… I'm a lot like Dad, which is why we butted heads so much. You wanted to be like Dad, and Alex… she went back and forth, but mostly set herself up for disappointment with Dad. And he knew it." Sam looked pensive. "He knew how he let her down, how much he broke her heart. And he just held her further away for it so he didn't have to try." Sam had Dean's attention. "So this, about Adam, Dad's secret life… I know it's eating at her. Maybe more than it is us."

Dean looked mildly chastened and quickly covered it up with an impatient nod. "Yeah, well. Me too, Sammy." Dean held out his hand and made a 'give it here' motion. "Now gimme that flask."

Sam looked at Dean with mild suspicion. "To dump it out, right?"

Dean gave him a wan, deadpan look. "Don't be an idiot," he said, then when Sam gave him a look, he threw his hands up in the air. "Yes, to dump it out!"

Sam handed it over and Dean turned it upside down, the green liquid pouring out onto the cold ground. Sam turned around to look down at his twin sister, who looked kind of like a rag doll, the way she had been haphazardly shoved into the back seat. Her dark hair was strewn across her face, some of it stuck in her half-open mouth.

Sam leaned down a little and brushed Alex's crazy, tangled hair back from her face, smiling down at her with fondness. Despite everything that had happened the past year, that was his twin sister Alex and there was no one else in the world who could replace her. Nothing could change the fact that he loved her, would die for her. Hell, he felt the same about Dean.

The past few days with Adam had been particularly hard on his brother and sister. Unlike Dean and Alex, Sam had never idolized Dad like that. He'd never invested all his hopes and dreams in the man or even really respected him that much. Maybe that's why he wasn't shocked to discover that Dad had been less than a saint. He didn't feel as torn up inside as Alex and Dean obviously did, he didn't feel blindsided or betrayed like they did. He closed the door of the Impala firmly then shoved his hands into his pockets and walked around the car to the passenger side. He only wished he knew how to tell his brother and sister about the demon blood. Even if he knew how to tell them, he was reminded that they would never understand or accept it. That was too much to hope for. And there were darker things too, inside. Things he would never tell anyone.

He checked his phone furtively before getting into the car. No missed calls, no texts. He was beginning to feel desperate. He needed more demon blood and he knew it. Knew it, and hated it. He was starting to feel sick and shaky, short-tempered and unfocused. Where the hell was Ruby and why wouldn't she answer his calls?

---

Alex woke up and the instant her eyes cracked opened, she squeezed them shut again, groaning miserably. She was laid out on a bed in what she assumed was a motel room. Even though the room was dark and it was clearly still nighttime, the light coming from the bathroom was blinding. Her head was killing her. Her stomach was churning with nausea. Her mouth was dry, her vision was weird. She opened her eyes again slowly, sore all over and feeling intoxicated still. Dizzy. Gross. She looked down, peering at her feet. Her shoes were still on and everything. She tried to remember what happened last night—or was it tonight, still? Must still be tonight. She groggily swung her legs over the side of the bed and with some effort, got up and shuffled toward the light of the motel bathroom, her stomach pitching, threatening to empty itself any second. Sam stood there, clutching the sink rigidly with both hands, his head down like he was fighting sickness. She momentarily forgot herself and her illness ebbed away into concern.

"Sam? You okay?" Alex asked, and he shot up, turned around, his expression strange and startled. He looked sleep-deprived and wan, a little sallow. Was he ill?

Her twin attempted a smile to cover up his ill appearance and the slight scare she'd given him. "Yeah, yeah, just, uh, feeling kinda sick I guess. Headache. Stomach. No big deal." He looked at her with a studious frown. "What are you doing up, anyway? It's like three in the morning. I thought you'd be passed out for a couple weeks at least."

Alex tried to chuckle at Sam's little joke but grunted with a wince instead. "How much did I drink?"

Sam's face softened with a crooked smile as he chuckled. "I don't know if it was how much or if it was what you drank."

Alex folded her hands over her stomach, queasy. Absinthe… the thorn in her side. "Never again," she vowed flatly.

"Do you remember anything?" Sam asked. There was the slightest little smile on his face.

Alex's eyes went off to the side and she thought hard, squinting again her pounding headache. She came up with nothing and shook her head. "That would be a negative."

Sam was hiding amusement. "Not even Cas holding your drunk ass up?"

Alex's eyes went wide. "What?"

Sam chuckled and teased her, his amused expression making Alex feel like she'd done some really embarrassing stuff. "Oh yeah," he said, enjoying the good-natured ribbing. "It was pretty great. He didn't know what to make of you like that."

Alex groaned and shut her eyes in mortification, put her face in her hand. "Sam—"

"Don't shoot the messenger," he told her with mild playfulness.

She gave him an unamused, sullen look. Hadn't she made an idiot of herself in front of Cas enough? She could only imagine what she'd done or said and was humiliated… even though she guessed if he'd watched over her as her guardian angel or whatever he'd seen her shitfaced before. But still.

Back in the dark motel room, bedsprings squeaked as Dean suddenly rolled over and sat up. "Hey, Thing One, Thing Two," he said, his voice scratchy from just waking up. "Cas just came for a visit. We gotta go." He flicked on the bedside table lamp and Alex squinted in response, held a hand up in front of her face.

"Wait, what? Cas came for a—what are you talking about?" Sam asked, watching as Dean grabbed up his keys from the bedside table.

"I dunno, man, all I know's he shows up in one of my dreams and said it was important and to hurry," Dean replied, shoving his feet into his shoes. "He wouldn't say what, just gave me an address. It's not far."

Alex was pitiful. "I'm still drunk and my head hurts."

Dean looked at her like he was ruefully thinking told you so. "Not my fault now is it, princess?" He asked, shrugging on his jacket and giving her a pointed look. "We'll get some aspirin into you and you'll be good as new. Now, come on." He paused, frowned. "I think Cas might be in trouble."

---

Underneath flickering lights in an old manufacturing plant, the Winchesters swept the darkness ahead with flashlights. The only sound was of buzzing, dying lights and the hunters' echoing footsteps. "You sure this is the place?" Sam asked, his voice a hushed whisper. Alex turned her head over her shoulder to briefly look behind them into the tunneling darkness.

Dean sounded terse. "Yeah. I'm sure."

"So where's Cas?" Sam asked, asking what they all wanted to know. Alex shined her flashlight to the side of the dim hallway they were following. A huge portion of the wall had crumbled away, like something big had hit it. Her stomach clenched with a strange feeling of dread. She vaguely remembered his face, lit softly by the glow of firelight as he crouched in front of her earlier that night. Hadn't he touched her arm? She thought he had.

"Here," Dean said, turning and leading them up a set of metal stairs, into more darkness. As they came to the a large, open area of the plant, all three of them were taken aback at what they found. "What the hell?" Dean muttered, throwing the beam of his flashlight across total wreckage—metal scaffolding had been torn asunder and was piled up like ribbons—torn electrical wires overhead and within snapped and popped, showering sparks down over the destruction at an uneven cadence.

"It looks like a bomb went off," Sam commented softly as they stole into the foreboding space and continued to look around, flashlights held high.

Obviously there had been some kind of knock-down drag-out fight here between really powerful beings but it was silent now and ominously so. Alex's heart and blood pressure were both elevating. Where was Cas? Had he done this? Or had it been done to him? Could angels be hurt or killed by each other? She was pretty sure the answer to that was yes. There was a small explosion as another wire burst and fizzled somewhere close to Alex. She jumped away with a hand against her ear, startled by the abruptly loud sound. She steadied herself and skirted the edge of the twisted metal pileup, trying to see anyone or anything in it or near it. Her head was still killing and she was nauseated as fuck.

Dean noticed something as he continued to sweep the darkness with his flashlight. "Check it out," he said, drifting toward a far concrete wall. On it, drawn in bright red blood that was still shining and wet: an angelic symbol like the one Anna had made to send Cas and Uriel away. "Look familiar?" he asked grimly.

Sam was behind him and came to his side, frowning deeply while Alex gave it a cursory glance from where she was. "So, what's that mean?" Sam asked. "Cas was fighting other angels?" He turned and looked around the wreckage again. "That doesn't make sense."

Alex's flashlight caught a glimpse of something that looked like beige clothing and her heart jumped in shocked recognition. "Guys!" She called her brothers, even as she stumbled over a twisted beam, ducked underneath another, then crouched down over Cas—he was laying on his back and a small metal pipe laid across his body. He looked unconscious, which was terrifying. Did angels even go unconscious? Alex didn't know. She was yanking the metal pipe off of him and smacking him lightly on the side of the face a couple times. "Cas?" She asked. No response. She heard her brothers coming up behind her. "Cas!" She smacked a little harder—and then Castiel's eyes flew open in an expression of sheer panic and he bolted upright to shove her away as if he didn't know her—startled, Alex fell back into Sam's legs and her twin reacted fast, caught her underneath the arms to keep her from falling back completely.

Cas recoiled—he'd backpedaled away from Alex and was half-laying half-sitting, looking at the three of them in shock. He seemed disoriented. "What's, what's going on?" He asked in a breathless, high voice. Overhead, more wires suddenly sent a snap of sparks raining down and in a strangely alien way Cas cringed and jumped as if he were scared. Alex, standing as Sam hauled her up, stared through wide eyes. What was wrong with him? He was sitting up and clutching at his chest, looking around in dismay and he didn't look anything like himself. "No, no…" he moaned, eyes huge and terrified, darting around as if in paranoia. Dean offered him a hand and Cas refused, standing up clumsily and backing away from them.

"Cas, you okay?" Sam asked urgently, and all three of the Winchesters stared as the angel all but panted, obviously in severe distress.

"Castiel," he said, his voice high and hollow as he looked down at himself in sheer disbelief. "I'm not Castiel." He looked at them again, face slack. "It's me."

There was a stunned silence at his unexpected assertion. "Who's 'me'?" Sam asked in a loud voice.

"Jimmy," he answered tightly, and when he said that, he seemed to calm a little. He swallowed and then spoke in a more even voice, as if the name gave him confidence. "My name's Jimmy. Jimmy Novak. I'm… I'm from Illinois. I have a wife, a daughter. I'm not who you're looking for."

It was like being hit with a ton of bricks. This was the man Castiel had been possessing. Jimmy. Alex could find no words at all.

"Well w-where the hell's Castiel?" Dean asked suspiciously.

Jimmy shook his head. "He's gone."

"Gone where?" Alex asked.

Jimmy shut his mouth and looked at her with a grim expression. "I dunno. Just gone."

"Okay… 'Jimmy.'" Dean paused. "Do you know who we are?"

The man who looked like Castiel but otherwise was obviously nothing like him at all nodded, his face expressive and drawn. "Yeah. Dean, Sam, Alex. I know who all of you are and—" he suddenly swayed sideways, almost falling down—Sam reacted fast and helped him stand. Jimmy grimaced, a hand against his stomach—which suddenly gave one of the loudest growls Alex had ever heard. The man looked close to passing out suddenly and he gave a soft moan of pain. "Uh. I need food. Bad."

---

Last Year

James Novak (better known as Jimmy)—taxpayer, always on time, faithful church tither—kept a quiet, proper life. He married his high school sweetheart Amelia when they were both eighteen. He believed in traditional family values. He didn't use profanity or drink or gamble. He'd dedicated himself to a lifetime of faith in God. He lived humbly and devoutly. However, even though he had always followed the bible and done everything a good Christian should, there had always been a nagging feeling that there must be more for him, that God was calling him to deeper things.

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened. Words from the book of Matthew that Jimmy clung to and kept in mind as he prayed for years that the Lord would use him for something truly meaningful. Maybe his prayers implied that Jimmy thought his life as a father and husband wasn't enough. But he loved his wife and daughter very much—more than anyone. Still, he was never able to shake the longing for greater things and always felt there should be more for him somehow—some grand calling. A purpose beyond the here and now.

After over fifteen years of marriage, Jimmy's life was predictable and had a feeling of routine to it. The greater things he longed for never came. Only more of the same… a slow downward spiral into monotony and habit and routine. He was in a marriage that felt stale, he worked a job that left him wanting. His daughter was the best thing in his life—his little girl who wasn't so little anymore. She was approaching womanhood and in a few short years would leave for college. Jimmy wondered what would become of himself and Amelia when that happened. They'd been unable to conceive more children and Claire was the thing that held them together. Jimmy didn't believe in divorce and loved his wife deeply, but the spark was gone. It wasn't like they were miserable—they were friends and companions and were content enough, accepting of the way their relationship was quiet, dying embers instead of roaring flame like it used to be.

On one night that was like all the others, Jimmy had fallen asleep in front of the television. His life changed forever when he was roused by a warm, whispering voice from Heaven. Castiel came to him the first time that evening, reaching across the divide of the corporeal and incorporeal, speaking to him in a voice that was so deafening and magnificent that Jimmy had been physically wounded. He didn't even remember the seizure, only Amelia's frantic face above his when he regained consciousness. But Jimmy hadn't been panicked at all. He had smiled at Amelia and said he was all right. He'd felt such a peace and sense of purpose.

The angel spoke to him in dreams and in whispers as the months went on. He told Jimmy of great plans concerning God's will. Castiel told Jimmy that he was a servant of Heaven, that he wanted Jimmy to give himself over to divinity and answer the call, to let himself be used as a vessel of righteousness when the time came. And Jimmy had been eager, willing. So unaware of what it would actually be like.

On an unremarkable weeknight evening, Jimmy was preparing dinner unassumingly when Castiel's whispers lit up the quiet. The angel asked him to prove his faith. Wonderstruck, Jimmy did as the angel asked unquestioningly. Amelia walked in and dropped the bag she'd been carrying. Jimmy had his hand stuck down into the pot of boiling water on the stove and was staring at it, entranced.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Amelia had gasped, rushing over.

Jimmy held a hand out, smiling and trying to calm her down. "It's okay. I'm okay—look!" He drew his hand out of the raging hot water. He was unharmed and fine in every way. Unburned, untouched by harm.

Amelia hadn't looked amazed. Instead, she'd looked absolutely terrified. "W-what's wrong with you?"

Jimmy was still smiling, overwhelmed with amazement. "Nothing's wrong. He asked me to do it."

"Who asked you to do it?" Amelia asked, looking at the pot of boiling water with wild, scared eyes.

Euphoric, Jimmy stared at his hand, not noticing his wife's utter distress. "Castiel, to prove my faith. Look—I'm fine." He showed her his hand again, astounded at the smooth, unburned skin there.

"Who's Castiel?!" Amelia asked, growing more and more afraid by the second.

Jimmy smiled again, feeling lighter and more wonderful than he had in years. He had thought Amelia would share his wonder when he told her: "An angel."

"An angel?" She repeated. Her fear grew quieter and more deep.

Jimmy could barely notice. He was so amazed. Grinning, he swept her into his arms, elated and high on thoughts of restoration and repair within his life. He imagined everything as golden and bright and made of the things of Heaven. "It's a miracle, Amelia! A miracle!"

She stared back at him with eyes that were not overjoyed. Only petrified. And when Jimmy realized she was afraid of him and what he was saying, his tight hug loosened and faltered. His wife pushed him away as she stepped back. She was looking at him like she didn't know him. "No, it's not a miracle—" her voice trembled. She shook her head and swallowed, looking at the boiling water again. "I don't know how you did that b-but… this isn't normal."

---

Present Day

"This isn't normal," Dean Winchester said, staring at Jimmy in something like disgusted awe. "How many burgers are you gonna eat?"

Jimmy shamelessly shoved another burger into his mouth, ravenous. "I dunno." He didn't bother waiting until he'd stopped chewing to talk.

After going through a twenty-four-hour drive-thru and getting Jimmy a bag full of burgers after he insisted he could eat them all, the Winchesters had brought him back to their motel. It was still dark out, the middle of the night, and Jimmy was on his third burger with no signs of stopping. The three Winchesters watched him with odd expressions. "When's the last time you ate?" Dean asked, flabbergasted by Jimmy's appetite.

Jimmy shook his head. "I don't know. Months." He took another huge bite and made appreciative sounds, then took a noisy sip out of the straw in his cup and returned to his burger.

"All right, so what the hell happened back there?" Sam asked, interrupting Jimmy's concentration. "It looked like an angel battle royale."

Jimmy shook his head and shrugged. "All I remember is a flash of light and I, uh... I woke up and I was just, you know, like, me again."

"So, what?" Dean looked at him closely. "Cas just ditched outta your meat suit?"

"I really don't know," Jimmy replied through a full mouth.

Sitting across from him, arms crossed and feet propped straight out, Alex was intent. "Do you remember anything about when he was possessing you?"

Jimmy looked at her with Castiel's eyes. He no longer wore the trench coat—just the suit and tie. "Yeah, bits and pieces," he answered cryptically. He watched her out of the corner of his eye for a minute as he chewed thoughtfully, and Alex fell silent, didn't ask anything else. She felt worried. Where had Cas gone? Why would he just abandon ship out of nowhere? Did he not need his vessel anymore? If not, why? So many questions. Her head was still pounding and she felt sluggish from her fading state of drunkenness.

"I mean, having an angel inside you's like being chained to a comet," Jimmy said conversationally, working his jaw in between sentences. He seemed a little uncomfortable at the memories. "I couldn't keep up."

Dean's eyebrows raised. "Sounds like fun."

Jimmy pulled a face, and even though he looked exactly like Cas, he managed to look like a completely different person in that moment. "Understatement." He took another huge bite.

"Cas said he wanted to tell us something," Sam said. "Please tell me you remember what it was."

Jimmy looked down, mild ruefulness playing on his face. He shook his head. "No, sorry."

"Well what do you know?" Dean asked.

Jimmy stopped eating, given pause by Dean's question. "I know who I am. Jimmy Novak. I'm from Pontiac Illinois." His face softened with something like pain. "I have a family." He was suddenly stricken and sitting back from the table, seeming stunned. "I need to see my family."

Dean stood up, his expression hard and thoughtful. "Hold that thought. Finish eating, okay?" He looked at Sam meaningfully, then jerked his head toward the door, indicating he wanted a word alone. "Sam, I need to talk to you."

Alex watched her brothers go and didn't move to follow. Other times she might have gotten up and trotted after, but that day she was too physically exhausted and mentally messed up. Anyway, she got the silent implication… stay and watch Jimmy. He didn't look like he was gonna bolt though. He had bucked up and was attacking a burger again hungrily, glancing at her a couple times without saying a thing. Alex sighed heavily and rubbed her forehead with a grimace. I hate alcohol. She remembered details from earlier now, a little bit anyway. Enough to make her want to kick herself in the ass. Alex settled back into her chair, resigned, and grabbed a bottle of pain killers out of the bag that was hanging off her chair. She took several then fixed her eyes on Jimmy studiously. "So. You really don't remember anything?" She asked.

He looked at her over his burger, taking a long beat to answer—long enough that it seemed like he was maybe trying to hide something. "Not really. Like I said, bits and pieces, weird snippets and stuff."

Alex nodded slowly, not convinced. "Right." Jimmy's gaze flickered away. He didn't look at her like Cas did, but it was every bit as disconcerting. "Why do you think he did that?" She asked. "Left all the sudden?"

Jimmy's chewing slowed and he stared down at the top of his burger bun, frowning a little. "You know, I gotta say, from what I remember, the guy's mind was, like, a constant tug of war. Back and forth, back and forth." He hesitated, thinking hard, clearly taxing himself mentally. "I can't remember why he left. I don't remember anything from today."

"But you remember stuff from other days?" Alex pressed.

His eyes darted up to hers. He seemed guarded. "Yeah, I mean… it's all a blur, okay? I'm exhausted." He drew in a breath, expelled it, cracked a tired grin. "It's just good to be by myself in here again. I was about to go insane." He grinned at her more widely and reached for his cup without looking and misjudged, knocked it over. It spilled and soda flooded the table. They both jumped up from their seats, trying to avoid getting wet.

"Aw crap," Jimmy muttered, brushing himself off then yanking his tie off and jacket, too, already unbuttoning his soda-stained shirt. "Can I borrow one of your brother's shirts?" he asked, pulling off his shirt completely. Alex was staring and didn't answer right away. Underneath the frumpy suit and trench coat, Castiel—no, Jimmy—was surprisingly toned—Alex was shocked, because the shapeless outfit he wore had hidden it well… the strong arms and shoulders, the smooth strong planes of his chest, the flat abs… the very alluring taper to his hip bones which disappeared beneath the belted slacks he wore. Alex swallowed. The room seemed extremely hot all of the sudden and she was uncomfortable.

He'd asked to borrow a shirt. She tore her eyes away from him, flustered. "Yeah, uh, there… bag's Dean. Uh, er, Dean's bag. Take whatever you want."

If he noticed her fumble, he didn't acknowledge it. Jimmy went to the bed where Dean's duffel sat and dug through. He was oblivious to her stare. Alex watched him out of the corner of her eye, unable to help herself. His back was strong, his shoulders broad. The dim light in the room created soft, dark shadows in all the dips and curves of his muscles. On his right shoulder blade, there was a large tattoo of a simple, stylized cross. She was surprised to see that there. She hadn't pictured him as the type for ink. As he turned around he caught her eye he seemed to know she'd been eyeing it. "Got it when I was nineteen," he explained with slight chagrin, pulling a new shirt on and buttoning it up. "Regretted getting it ever since. Craziest thing I ever did."

"A tattoo?" Alex asked, cracking a grin. No way was that true. "A tattoo was the craziest thing you ever did?"

Jimmy shrugged modestly. "Yeah. I'm a straight and narrow kinda guy, I guess." There was a twinge of something in his voice that made intrigue come over Alex.

"Nothing wrong with the pious life, if it's your thing," she said, examining him for a reaction. When she couldn't tell, she prompted him. "Is it?"

Jimmy finished buttoning his shirt and took a moment, thinking, then shook his head uncertainty. "I don't know anymore. All I know is… I've been gone from my family for almost a year." His regretful tone gave Alex somber pause.

She tried not to encourage an angsty environment and instead grabbed some napkins from out of the bag of burgers and started to sop up the soda from off the table as she watched Jimmy pick his tie back up and put it back on. She glanced at him as she cleaned. "Did your family know? About you and Cas's… living arrangement?"

Jimmy went still. "No. To them I'm sure I just disappeared one night." He looked conflicted and slightly afraid and said nothing more. There was a deep guilt to his words and posture, and fear. A lot of fear. He returned to slowly buttoning his shirt up, but his mind seemed a thousand miles away.

Alex understood why he was worried. What if he went back and then his family was gone or had moved on? She hadn't really thought about it much before, how the body Castiel had used was a real person with a real life, a man named Jimmy Novak. Maybe she hadn't wanted to think about it either. But now she was being forced to think about it and face it. Honestly she was a little ashamed of herself for forgetting. Castiel wasn't human like her. Jimmy was. And Jimmy wasn't Cas.

"Lemme help. I'm sorry. I'm clumsy." Jimmy had shrugged his jacket back on and started helping get the puddle of soda off the table without being asked. Alex watched Jimmy in a tense sadness. He crouched and dabbed at the spot on the floor where soda had drizzled, oblivious to her strange gaze. Alex wasn't sure what to think. He looked just like Cas, but it wasn't him. His mannerisms, his voice, the way he stood, the way he walked… everything was different. It forced Alex to confront reality: Cas had hijacked some guy's body and used it to walk the earth. Those blue eyes that had sent her stomach flip-flopping around when they'd looked at her with such intense curiosity? Jimmy's. The clothing she'd come to identify as Castiel? Jimmy's. The voice Castiel had used to speak to her with? Jimmy's. She understood all of that but she couldn't quite separate the angel from the man in her mind completely.

Even so, staring at Jimmy as he dabbed napkins at the soda-splattered carpet… she almost felt like she'd lost something. Someone. Alex got angry with herself pretty quickly. She had no right to feel that way. She headed to the trash can beside the door with her dripping napkins and threw them in hard. Right after she did that, the door swung open and Dean and Sam came back in.

"All right Jimbo," Dean said, crossing his arms. "So jury's in. You can't go home."

Jimmy stood up, shock on his face. "What?" He quickly became indignant as he set the wet napkins down. He walked straight up to Dean. "The hell're you talking about, I can't go home?"

Dean shrugged as Sam took a seat at the kitchen table and watched quietly. "There's a good chance you have a bullseye on your back," Dean said. Alex looked at Sam for explanation and her twin just shrugged slightly. Tell you later, he seemed to silently communicate to her.

"What?" Jimmy looked and sounded like he'd never heard anything crazier in his life. "From who?"

Dean's mouth hardened a little. "Demons."

"Come on, that's crazy," Jimmy said, almost rolling his eyes. "What do they want with me?"

Dean shook his head. "I dunno, information, maybe?"

Jimmy was obstinate and expressive. His voice rose in pitch. "I don't know anything!"

Dean visibly forced himself not to lose his temper but raised his voice a little too. "I know, but—"

"Look, I'm done, okay?" Jimmy was quickly getting agitated. "With demons, angels, Castiel's friggin' endless angst and confusion—all of it! I just wanna go home."

"We understand," Dean started, but was once again cut off.

"I don't think that you do understand!" Jimmy's voice was quickening with impassioned certainty. "I've been shot and stabbed and healed; my body's been dragged all over the earth. He used me and took me away from my life, my family. I thought I wanted this but I don't. By some miracle I'm out… and I am done. I've given enough, okay?"

Sam stood up and kept his voice firm and commanding. "Look, all we're saying is that until we figure this out, the safest place is with us."

Jimmy's jaw worked tensely and he cast a glance beside himself as a muscle jerked in his cheek. He was considering it. "How long?" He asked brusquely, glaring at Sam.

Sam hesitated. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Before Sam had even finished speaking, Jimmy shook his head hard, obviously not going for that. He brushed past Dean, heading for the door with fast steps. Sam moved to stop him, blocking his path. "Where you think you're going?" Dean asked mildly, turning around casually, arms crossed.

Jimmy whirled indignantly. "To see my wife and daughter, okay?" He turned and tried to get past Sam, who held him by an arm, forcing him to stay.

"No, you're not." Sam wasn't rough by any means, but there was a warning nature to his stance and tone. "You're just going to put those people in danger."

Jimmy stared at Sam incredulously, then glanced briefly at Alex as if he couldn't believe this. "So, what, now I'm a prisoner?"

Sam was rueful but assertive. "Harsh way to put it."

"How about guest of honor?" Dean quipped from further back in the room where he stood with crossed arms. He cracked a wiseass little smile. "Just can't stand to see you go."

Jimmy looked at him balefully. "You have no right to keep me here."

Dean chuckled and sauntered forward. "When have rights stopped me? You're staying."

Jimmy looked around, realizing he was outnumbered and outmuscled. As if in a desperate last attempt, he looked at Alex, who had been silently observing from beside the door. "Alex? You're gonna go along with this? It's kidnapping."

That earned a self-deprecating smile from her. "Jimmy… you know who you're talking to, right? We break like ten laws per hour on a good day." Jimmy didn't appreciate her attempt at humor and Alex softened, sympathizing with him. "Call it what you will but they're right." She came to stand beside her twin. "I mean, think about it. You were a vessel for an angel. Is it really so crazy to think demons might wanna get their claws in you or your family?"

Jimmy was highly unhappy and let them all know with the dark look he gave them. "This is jacked up," he said with something close to a scowl as he crossed his arms and pressed his lips down into a hard line. Full of bad attitude, he looked at Dean contemptuously. "Can I at least get some air?"

Dean gave a single little heh sound, obviously thinking it was funny that Jimmy thought they would go for that. "I don't think so," he said, further infuriating Jimmy. "Look, come morning, we'll figure something out. For now… no one leaves this room." Dean swept the room's occupants with a commanding gaze, daring any of them to go against what he said. Satisfied, Dean nodded. "Now. I'm gonna take a shower."

He grabbed his things and shut himself into the bathroom without any further delay.

Jimmy shook his head, surly and bad-tempered as he backed away from Sam who still blocked the way out. "I need to see them," he said, pacing the room restlessly. "They probably think I'm dead." He talked using his hands, gesturing erratically and then jamming fingers through his dark hair.

"Not yet, Jimmy," Sam said. His tone wasn't exactly rude, but it wasn't the kindest voice he used, either. He sounded sort of inconvenienced. "Just don't think about it."

Jimmy looked like he'd been slapped in the face and he suddenly confronted Sam physically. "Don't think about it?!"

"Hey you two." Alex, over by the table now, gave them both pointed looks. "Come on." Jimmy took a beat, then stepped away from Sam, looking mad enough to piss. Alex picked up the bag of burgers, trying to distract him maybe. "Want any more of these?"

"No." Jimmy shot her a dark look. "I lost my appetite."

Sam scoffed loudly and rolled his eyes insensitively. Alex gave him a weird look. His temper seemed short for some reason—maybe because he still felt sick?—either way, he really wasn't helping. At all. Jimmy sent Sam an evil eye and Alex attempted to diffuse the situation with humor. She cracked a disarming grin and pulled a face. "Hey, don't pay Samantha any attention. It's his time of the month."

Unexpectedly, Jimmy smiled just slightly at the dig aimed at Sam. He saw the way Alex's face changed when he smiled like that. His expression faded. "What?" He asked, frowning a little.

Alex shook her head, shrugged, hid her true feelings. "Nothing." What was she really thinking? That this man in front of her wasn't Castiel in any way. That she wanted to know where her guardian angel had gone. That she needed to know why she almost seemed to miss him. Was it over? Was Cas gone for good? It was weird, too, because even though this was the exact same body Cas had used, she couldn't imagine kissing this man. She'd pictured kissing Cas one night out of nowhere. And she couldn't picture kissing Jimmy.

"So which bed?" Jimmy asked.

"What?" Alex asked, confused as she came out of her far-away thoughts.

"Which bed should I sleep in?"

Oh. Alex looked at the beds—two doubles—and shrugged. "Uh… take your pick," she said, her mind on other things. "Doesn't matter to me."

Jimmy chose randomly, walking over to one of the beds and sitting on it. "I wish you people would just let me go," he said brokenly. "I need to see them." He looked so stricken and heartbroken that Alex had to look down, guilty for her part in it. She looked to Sam, who usually consoled the Sad People they ran into. But Sam just glanced back at her with a look like what? on his face. He looked like he had a headache or something. Maybe he was just tired. It was the middle of the night.

Either way, she was gonna have to do it. And by it, she meant talking to a Sad Person. Alex cleared her throat and fixed Jimmy with a caring look she'd seen Sam give others. "You need to keep them safe." She paused. "That's what you're doing by staying away, all right?" She stuck her tongue out just a little to wet her lips. Saying the facts had been easy. Now what? How could she get him to lighten up? She decided, a little selfishly, to do a bit of fact-finding. Maybe he would feel better if he went down memory lane, anyway. "Why don't you tell us a little about them?" She asked, hoping it was the right thing to say to him in that moment. "What's your wife's name? Your daughter?"

Jimmy's face changed and he went somewhere very far away in his mind. "Amelia," he said softly. "Amelia's my wife. Claire's my daughter. She's… she'll be twelve now. I missed her birthday." There was a hollowness to his voice, like he didn't know what to think about himself. He looked down and clasped his hands together between his knees, deeply pensive. "I can't believe I left. I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing, you know?" He laughed softly, a sound without any lightness. "I was no one before this. I… sold ad time on A.M. radio. Married my high school sweetheart. Got a house, a mortgage. Went to church every Sunday. I've never been anything but painfully normal and it used to be okay with me. But the last few years…" he shook his head dejectedly. "Life felt stale, I dunno. I just was at my wit's end when Cas came to me." His eyes dodged looking at either Sam or Alex. "I guess maybe I wanted to be special like Cas said I could be. But man. It's… special's overrated. I think I ruined my life." He heaved a tired expulsion of breath and put a hand on his face. He looked like he hadn't slept in years.

Alex realized that maybe talking was only going to make things worse and tried a different tactic. "Hey, come on. You need some rest I think." She smiled slightly, feeling how exhausted and hungover she was. "I know I do. Everything'll look better in the morning."

A bittersweet expression crossed Jimmy's face and it looked like he were almost trying to hold back tears. "My wife used to say that." With that, Jimmy crawled into the bed, shoes and all, pulled the covers up to his neck, rolled over, then went quiet.

Sam came up to stand beside Alex, who silently watched the Jimmy-shaped lump. Her twin looked over and down at her then motioned to the other bed. "Go ahead. Get some shut eye. Sleep off the green fairy." His crack about absinthe got an unamused look from her. He aimed a half-hearted little grin at her.

Alex peered up at her twin, really studying him. He looked paler than normal. His lips weren't their normal rosy hue. "You sure you're all right, Sam? You look sick."

He dodged her concerned gaze. "Fine." Sam said shortly, seeming faintly annoyed. He motioned at the bed again. "Go on. Crash. I've got this."

"I need something out of the car," Alex lied decisively, then grabbed her jacket, yanking it on then heading out into the night.

Out in the parking lot she looked around into the surrounding darkness then, with arms around herself to keep warm, she looked upwards to the stars. "Hey, Cas?" She kept her voice just above a whisper, and her breath made little white clouds in the cold, sharp air. Underneath the canopy of night, she was aware of how small she was and how vast the universe. "Where'd you go?" No reply came and Alex's eyes flickered back and forth over the pinpricks of distant galaxies and stars. She tried to think of what to say. Could Castiel even hear her wherever he'd gone? It would just be nice to know why he left and if he was okay. She thought out loud. "I... just don't know why you'd disappear like that. We're worried." She paused. Were Sam and Dean worried? She corrected herself: "I'm worried." Hearing how vulnerable she sounded, she toughened her tone and put on a harder face. "So if you could get your ass back here somehow... that'd be great." She waited a couple seconds, getting agitated with herself and with the silence. "Okay. Well. Bye." Bye? That wasn't the way to end a prayer. A little sullen she tried, "Amen." She didn't like that either and gave a huffing sigh at herself. "Over and out." She rolled her eyes at herself then slunk back toward the motel.

When she went back into the warmth of the room, Sam looked at her, observing how she had nothing with her—and his eyes narrowed slightly. "Find what you were looking for?"

Alex was on her way to the empty bed and not in the mood for any more conversation. "No. I didn't."

She fell into bed without removing her shoes or jacket and turned her face away from Sam. Even though her mind was spinning with confusion and too many thoughts to number, she quickly dropped off into an exhausted sleep. She didn't feel when Dean flopped down beside her. Didn't hear when he started to snore. Didn't wake when Sam slipped out of the room. Didn't hear when Jimmy snuck out and made his escape, either.

---

Last Year

"Take the pills." Amelia stood in front of Jimmy in their living room and extended the orange prescription bottle out to him. It was nearing ten at night.

In a shirt and pajama bottoms, Jimmy sat on the couch which had become his bed in more recent times. "I'm not sick."

Amelia thrust the bottle out, spoke a little more intensely. Tears rolled out of her eyes and she struggled to maintain composure. "Jimmy, take the pills."

"I don't need them, Amelia." He paused and then spoke softly, certainly, holding her gaze the whole time. "I know that this is hard to understand, but he chose me. I'm not crazy."

Amelia hid her reaction, but not well enough that Jimmy missed it. He saw how she doubted. How she believed he was losing his mind. "Who, Castiel, the angel?" She asked softly. When Jimmy nodded shallowly, his wife's outward calm began to crumble. "Jimmy—he's not real. How many times do we have to go over this? Now just take the pills, please."

Jimmy looked at her sadly. "He's spoken to me now, Ames, a dozen times. Shown me miracles." Amelia struggled, looked upward and dashed her hand across her tear-stained cheek. Jimmy leaned forward a little. "Hey, you believe in God, don't you?"

"What kind of question is that?" She tried smiling through her upset. "Of course, but—"

"And angels?"

"Yes, Jimmy, but I—"

"So, why is it then so hard for you to believe that they're talking to me?" He asked, truly wishing she would have faith in this with him.

Amelia began to pace, using the pill bottle to gesture erratically. Jimmy could see how she was fighting not to lose her temper with him. "B-because… okay, maybe angels are real, but what would they want you for?" The anger came out, as it always did. "Jimmy, you sell ad time for the radio! You can barely keep up with taking care of the house and helping me with Claire, what would angels need you for?"

Her words stung him. "He said that I'm special. It's in my blood."

Wordless for a second, Amelia laughed in a huff of air, her face working oddly. "What does that mean, it's in your blood? Jimmy… do you hear what you're saying to me? Just admit you're having a mid-life crisis and take the damn pills!"

He was getting shorter on patience and looked at the pill bottle with contempt. "I don't need pills," he said flatly, trying to make her understand. He looked at her appealingly. "Castiel said that God has chosen me for a higher purpose."

Amelia's voice was strained and her face twisted into an expression of near-disgust. "To do what?"

Jimmy smiled faintly, a slight instance of pride and excitement running over him. "God's will. Not really my place to question it." His wife's face was sad and empty. Jimmy sighed, scooting back to make a place for her to sit beside him. "Hey, come here," he urged gently. She did as he asked, sitting beside him and turning a little to face him. He took the pills out of her hands and set them aside so that he could hold her hands gently. "This is a blessing," he told her. "This is the most important thing that ever happened to me."

Amelia's face was unreadable and slack, like she had turned off her emotions. "I thought we were the most important things to ever happen to you." Her soft words struck Jimmy hard and he was momentarily silent. Amelia shook her head and looked around their living room vapidly, her expression strange. "Jimmy, this marriage isn't working anymore," she said faintly, and again, he was hit hard by what he knew they both realized but had never acknowledged. Amelia looked at him with pained eyes. "We barely talk except in passing, we never spend time together anymore." She looked at him with veiled bitterness, her voice lowering into a whisper, in case Claire was in earshot. "And I mean, we haven't had sex in months. Months. I know things have been stale between us for awhile and I know we said we'd try but… is this angel stuff you trying to be the man I've been asking you to be? This isn't what I had in mind."

Her words hurt him deeply. Had she said them to him before Castiel, Jimmy would have been devastated completely. But he had hope because of the angel. "Amelia." He said her name sadly. "Have faith. I know things have been hard for us since you lost the baby last year, but… God works all things to the good of those who love him. I'm not depressed like I was. Castiel is giving me faith." He grasped her hands with renewed fervor, trying to show her how eager he was to see God work in their life. He felt that their marriage, home and faith would be restored. "Our lives will change because of him, Amelia! We can still make this work."

Amelia's hands were slack in his. Unenthusiastic. "I'm just… wondering if I even want to make it work," she admitted quietly.

Jimmy's grip loosened in utter shock as he stared at her in completely caught of guard surprise. "Amelia—we don't believe in divorce," he protested, hurt by her implication and aghast because he would never have imagined she would even imply that she would leave him. Their marriage vows had been forever.

Amelia shook her head, ashamed tears glittering in her eyes. "I know, but… but Jimmy." Her voice dropped to a weak whisper. "You're scaring me. You're scaring your daughter. You are not the man I married."

"Maybe not." Jimmy kept himself gentle and tender with her, clinging to Castiel's promises. All was not lost. "Maybe I'm better than the man you married, or about to be. Don't you see, Amelia? I've been chosen to do God's work! And you're part of it!"

"How?" she asked. She was pulling away from him more and more.

Jimmy thought, and then summoned the first bible verse that he thought would convey himself best to Amelia. A verse that he felt said a wife should trust her husband. "Titus two verse five. 'Wives should submit to their husbands, that the Lord may be honored.'"

Amelia—who had led bible studies and stood by his side in church every Sunday, became cold. She looked at him with dire meaningfulness. "If you won't take your pills and if you won't get help…" she trailed off, swallowing with a dread-filled expression. "Then I'm going to take Claire to my mother's in the morning. Don't quote the bible at me, Jimmy. You're taking this too far. I can't be married to someone who's living in a fantasy world. Please. Just take—the—pills."

She abruptly got up and walked away from him, going upstairs and leaving Jimmy alone with his hurt confusion. Would she really leave him? Would she truly take his daughter away over this? Why wouldn't she believe? He would have to help her believe. Jimmy decided that night it was time to take action. He dressed slowly and methodically in what he always wore to work. Black slacks, a white dress shirt. He picked out a blue tie. The one Claire bought for him for Father's Day, the one she loved to see him wear. He shrugged on a black suit jacket, then over that, he swept on his beige trench coat. It would be cold outside. He gave himself a final look over in the mirror, not knowing how much his life was about to change. And then into the cold winter night he went.

He stood there in front of his house and looked up to the sky, called out to Castiel for help. His breath made vapor in the icy air, and for a moment, there was no reply. And then gentle, warm light shone down on him from up above and Jimmy looked up into it, hearing the rich, melodious voice of the angel Castiel. It was calming, this angel's presence.

Castiel told Jimmy many things. That God would be pleased with his servitude, that Jimmy would be revered among men. That the Novak family would be kept safe and be given rest in paradise when their long lives were finished. But Castiel also said that Jimmy would need to give much and for a time would be taken from his life. Jimmy didn't understand how long that would be—and he was so enraptured with the thought of serving God in such an important mission that he accepted. Said the word that promised his end. "Yes."

---

Present Day

Jimmy stared out of the bus window broodingly as the miles passed. He'd escaped from the Winchesters hours and hours ago and now he was getting close to home. If Amelia even lived there anymore. What would he find? His stomach twisted itself into sickened knots over and over again. Would Amelia forgive him? How could he even begin to explain it to her… or Claire for that matter? How was it that his relentless faith had left his life a shattered wreck? He had always thought that God would reward him with good things for his faithfulness. Not… not this.

Seated next to him a small, elderly woman was clasping a rosary and praying quietly. Jimmy looked at her sidelong, pitying her and fearing for her all at once. Which was worse…? An unanswered prayer or an answered one?

He returned his gaze to the window just in time to see a passing church sign that said Seven Days Without Prayer Makes One Weak. Disillusion settled over Jimmy with finality. After the past year, he didn't know who he was anymore. He believed in God and angels but wanted to be very far away from both right now. He had thought it would be different, being the vessel for an angel. He should have known better maybe… after all, he knew the bible and knew how brutal angels were in some passages. Still he'd believed, maybe because of modern myth and art, that angels were creatures of beatitude and kindness, gentleness. And while Jimmy knew from personal experience that Castiel had an inherently gentle and curious spirit, he also had a fierce and vengeful side—the angel was a magnificent blazing light made of ancient things beyond human comprehension. That's why Jimmy was running. It was too much, too much. Oddly enough, all he could think about was the mundane life he'd been so dissatisfied with before.

Jimmy reflected on the moment that Castiel had taken over his body, mind, and soul that winter night a year ago. It came over him like a downpour. The light had blinded Jimmy, and when it was gone, he wasn't himself anymore. His body had been filled with impossible wonder and glory, celestial power and divine purpose. Castiel had looked down and flexed his hand, gazed at it in wonder as he took in the feeling of being in a human body. Jimmy, slowly sinking down into a docile and quiet place somewhere deep inside, had heard a name—the first audible thought he heard from Castiel. Alex. Oh how familiar he would grow with this name and the face that went with it. Jimmy's mind conjured images of bright hazel eyes and the half-hidden smile. Castiel had been very curious about her. Was curious the right word?

Alex Winchester… a twenty-something woman with dark hair, youthful features, and eyes that carried a strikingly pensive weight to them. Memories and images of her were what stuck out in Jimmy's mind the most about his time hosting Castiel—perhaps because watching her was what Castiel had done with every moment not dedicated to battle or Heaven. That, and Castiel's guard hadn't been raised as high when he watched her—and this, therefore, allowed Jimmy to see it better.

Castiel had observed this girl in every sense of the word, but he'd done so with a notably childlike innocence and naivety as he endeavored to understand her and the things she did. Things like laundry, cleaning guns, sharpening knives, sitting around doing nothing, arguing with her brothers. Writing in her father's old journal. Absently rubbing the ends of her hair between her fingers. Picking the meatballs out of her spaghetti and the pepperoni off her pizza. Chewing on the inside of her mouth and wiggling her jaw back and forth without realizing it when she was in deep thought. She was very often in deep thought.

Jimmy was a little uncomfortable thinking about these things because they seemed intimate almost. Not the memories so much—they were nothing scandalous or remarkable—it was the way Castiel felt about the memories and about her. The angel was endeared to the youngest Winchester in a way Jimmy didn't quite know how to explain. He'd never felt the way Castiel felt about Alex toward anyone in his life. It was strong, whatever it was.

Jimmy's eyes flickered upward to the blue mid-day sky. Castiel was out there, somewhere. Gone for reasons unknown. Why? Would he come back, asking Jimmy for more? If he did, the answer would be no.

Jimmy Novak had given enough.

The Winchesters were headed to Illinois, hopefully right on Jimmy's heels—after Sam had 'gone out for a Coke' in the middle of the night and given Jimmy a chance to run, they'd been left little choice but to try and follow him. It wasn't safe for him to go back to his family, which was exactly where he'd go.

In the back seat Alex was slumped against the window, her cheek pressed against the chilled glass as she stared unseeingly out the window. She was hungover as hell and the aspirin and coffee still wasn't helping. In the front, Dean was quiet and focused, Sam was silent and decidedly bitchy. He still looked sickish but refused medicine and insisted he was fine. Alex pulled the top off her coffee cup to blow on the hot liquid it a little.

Out of thin air, someone abruptly appeared right next to her. "Hey, guys."

At the same time, several things happened. Dean let out an explanation of "Aah jeez!" and swerved the car into the other lane. Sam jerked in the front seat and let out a little sound of surprise. Alex jumped away and coffee flew out all over Anna, who blinked and spit a little of the hot brown liquid out without missing a beat.

"Smooth, guys," she commented wryly, even as a car whizzed by and honked at them.

"You ever try calling ahead?" Dean asked gruffly, gripping the wheel tight and glaring slightly back at her in the rear view.

"I like the element of surprise," the red-headed angel wisecracked. The coffee that had spilled on her was magically gone.

"Surprise?" Alex asked, sticking the lid back on her coffee and thanking her lucky stars that none of it got onto the Impala's upholstery. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

Anna seemed to have more pressing matters on her mind. "You let Jimmy get away?" She was looking at Dean.

"Talk to ginormo here," Dean said, nodding toward Sam.

Anna leaned forward a little and her expression shifted slightly. "Sam. You seem... different."

Alex's interest was heightened, especially when Sam acted a little too unassuming. "Me? I dunno." He flashed an attempt at an everything's fine smile. "A haircut?"

Anna's expression was unreadable. "That's not what I'm talking about." She let her gaze go to Dean. "So, what'd Jimmy tell you? He remember anything?"

"Why? What's going on?"

"It's Cas," Anna said. "He got sent back home. Well, more like dragged back."

"Dragged?" Alex asked, worried at that word choice of Anna's. "That doesn't sound good."

"It's not," Anna said, looking at Alex with a very tense, meaningful expression. "It's a very bad thing. Painfully, awfully bad. He must have seriously pissed someone off."

"What?" Alex asked, eyes going a little wider. "How?"

Anna's mouth drew into a thin line. "I don't know. The last time I spoke with him, he was struggling badly."

The more Anna said, the lower and lower Alex's stomach sank. "Struggling with what?"

Anna's eyes locked onto Alex's. "Everything."

It was strange… Alex felt her head shaking no hollowly without even realizing she was doing it. Empathy and concern had risen in her like rockets, shooting off silently. The last time she'd seen Cas he'd been trying to help her (she thought—the details were still a little blurry because of the absinthe). The worst thought suddenly came to her: what if I have something to do with him being in trouble?

"Listen, Cas said he had something to tell me," Dean said in the front seat, drawing Anna's attention even as Alex stared at the back of Sam's seat, dumbstruck. "Something important. Jimmy said he didn't know what it was, and Cas never got the chance to tell me before he left."

"Well whatever it is, it's huge," Anna said, her voice commanding and authoritative. "You gotta find out for sure. You shouldn't have let Jimmy go in the first place." She set her face grimly. "He's probably dead already."

"What about Cas?" Alex asked, trying to curb the anxiety out of her voice. "Do you know if he's okay? Will he come back?"

Anna thought deeply for a beat, shaking her head a little, like she didn't know. "Hard to say." She looked up suddenly and without ceremony announced, "I gotta go." And just like she'd appeared, she was gone.

The car fell into silence again. Coffee forgotten, Alex's eyes shot to the back of her oldest brother's head. Her voice was low and soft but urgent. "Drive faster, Dean."

---

Amelia Novak's life had always been stable and comfortable, predictable. The daughter of a husband-wife dentist team, Amelia been raised as an only child in a traditional household that valued church, family, and helping others. She'd always been reserved and modest, a little on the shy side. Jimmy, the class clown and nice-guy had caught her eye in middle school. He'd been her first love. Her first everything. Her parents hadn't been thrilled when Amelia and Jimmy announced they were going to get married straight out of high school, but at the time the two of them had been in love and too eager for the future to listen to anyone who had anything negative to say.

People whispered that they wouldn't make it, but nearly fifteen years of marriage proved the naysayers wrong. Until what happened last year. Sure, Amelia had noticed their relationship growing less exciting than it had been. All marriages ended up like that, she'd thought. Jimmy loved her even if they weren't passionate and close anymore, and she'd been all right with that. He was a good father over all else, and Amelia valued that highly. But then when he'd started showing signs of depression and withdrawal, things changed. He'd started imagining things—that angels were talking to him, that God wanted him for some kind of work. Amelia had been so scared to see her normally predictable husband begin to get zany, believing the delusions he kept spouting. And then came the night when Jimmy disappeared. After searching for him for weeks and realizing he wasn't coming back, police closed the case and Amelia was forced to go back to work as an office manager. No longer a stay-at-home mom, Amelia had truly been tested by fire—juggling bills, motherhood, taking care of the house and trying to understand what had happened.

Claire had struggled, too. Began to do things that frightened Amelia. Claire claimed to have seen her father disappear into thin air, claimed she'd seen a bright light over him and how he'd said he wasn't her father. Sometimes Amelia found drawings Claire made of Jimmy, in a trench coat, glowing with yellow light. Counseling, therapy, medicine… Amelia had made sure Claire got all of it. It had been an impossible year. Night after night Amelia had cried herself to sleep, terrified of the bill coming due the next day, half-crazed from the despair of such a suddenly turbulent life. Her parents had been lifesavers… lending money and time, helping Amelia keep the house and her mind both.

Things were finally beginning to normalize. Amelia was getting a grip and Claire was finally getting good grades again. It was beginning to feel do-able. She accepted this new life as a single mother and widower. And then one day, out of nowhere, the doorbell rang. And the person who she opened the door to was a man who, for a moment, she thought was a ghost. On his face, wretched emotions and terrified hope. Amelia had almost passed out to see the husband she thought she'd never see again within arm's reach. The next few minutes… a total blur.

When Claire came downstairs and peeked around the staircase banister railing, curious to see who that was in the living room with her mother… Amelia regained some clarity. Before the twelve-year-old girl could see that the man her mother was speaking to was her father, Amelia dismissed her with a voice full of motherly command. "Claire. Room. Now."

Jimmy turned his head to see just the back of his daughter's blonde head as she obeyed and went back up the stairs. "Can I see her?" Jimmy asked softly, heartbreak filling his voice. He implored Amelia with his eyes—eyes that shone with tears.

With a tear streaked face, Amelia shook her head. "No. No." She looked down, feeling out of answers. "I don't know yet." They sat in separate chairs. Jimmy was leaned down over his knees with slumped shoulders and tensely clasped hands. The silence was deafening. What was Amelia supposed to even say? "It's been a year, Jimmy."

He nodded, staring at the ground. "I know, I know."

"Where'd you go?" Amelia asked softly, her voice betraying her confused and painful feelings. "I told her you were dead. She thinks you're dead somewhere. She's just now getting back to herself again." There was anger in her voice. Anger that she reigned in. "Don't you think your daughter would have wanted to know you were okay?"

Jimmy looked at her with a strained expression. "I was… I was in a psych clinic. I just wanted to get myself straight before seeing you."

Bitterness played on Amelia's voice. "And no telephones, or—"

Her husband's face contorted. "No, I know. You're right. I'm—" he drew in a deep breath, let it out heavily, pain making his voice tight and quiet. "I'm so sorry." His apologies couldn't take away the sleepless nights or the things Claire had gone through or the pain and confusion Amelia had lived with the past year. Still, he tried to act like it was going to be all right. Like him being back was the answer. "But it's all—it's all over now. I mean, I'm—I'm really okay."

Really okay? She wasn't sure if she believed him. Not after how he'd acted there near the end. The angel stuff, the sticking his hand in boiling water and open flame, the standing on the edge of their roof and saying he couldn't be hurt… and maybe he was okay now, but she wasn't, and neither was their daughter. "Well that must be nice for you," she said coldly, hating him for not even calling once to let her know he was alive. "You don't know how hard this past year's been. You should have told me where you went. How could you let me think you were dead all this time?"

Jimmy stared back at her, seeming to realize in some small way the damage he'd done. Guilt and shame washed his haggard features. "I was—I was confused, Amelia. I was completely delusional." He seemed at the point of tears and his eyes refused to meet hers. "And I thought—I thought God was calling me to something and I thought that it was important, and I was wrong, I was such an idiot. Heaven, hell... none of that matters." Amelia felt her eyes spilling tears again. She wanted to believe him so badly. She wanted the life they'd had before—comfortable, safe, normal. "The only thing that's important to me is you and Claire. And I—I can't undo what I've done." His chin quivered and he looked down, breaking her heart all over again with his sadness. "But I just wanna come home again."

Amelia shut her eyes against tears and struggled not to break down. She opened her eyes again and kept her voice calm even though she wanted to weep. "I don't know if I can do that," she said quietly. "Not yet. Jimmy, you walked out on us." Her face wavered. "You abandoned us. Hurt isn't even close to what you've done to Claire and I."

Jimmy's forehead was rigid with stressed lines. "I know. I know." He put his hand on his face in shame. "I'm so sorry. I can never tell you how sorry. All that matters to me is this family."

Cynical and grieved, Amelia shook her head. "I just… I kind of have a hard time believing that."

The words hurt him like she'd wanted. "Please," Jimmy said. "For Claire. I know you and I might never…" he trailed off and they exchanged a meaningful look, both understanding that their relationship was probably broken beyond repair. "But I'm her father," Jimmy said, his voice growing a little stronger. "She needs me. She needs both of us. And I wanna make it up to her." He tried to reach out to her then. Amelia moved away, not allowing it. Jimmy was wounded, but accepted it and sat there silently for a minute. "Things are gonna be different from now on," he told her faintly.

"I can't see you break her heart again," Amelia said. Against her better judgement, she was considering it—letting Jimmy back in, even after what he'd done. She believed in forgiveness and second chances, but it had been easier to believe in both before she'd had to be the one giving them.

Jimmy heard it in her voice and small hope showed in his eyes and posture. "I won't. I promise," he said, leaning forward intently, eager to prove himself and meet her demands, do whatever she asked. "We can start small. I mean, whatever you're comfortable with."

Amelia searched his eyes cautiously. "Like what?"

"I don't know." Jimmy chanced an attempt at a smile through the tears in his eyes. "Dinner?"

A considerable silence hung between them. Jimmy looked at Amelia with wretched hope and Amelia felt herself caving, hoping she wasn't making the wrong choice—she wasn't sure if she knew her husband anymore but needed to give him a chance. Mostly for their daughter's sake. "Okay. Dinner," she agreed, then quickly became deadly serious. "But Jimmy… nothing about where you really were. I have to think about what to tell her. How to explain."

Jimmy agreed readily and Amelia went upstairs alone to tell Claire the news. With every step she took, Amelia harrowed her mind for how to say it. How were you supposed to tell your daughter that the dad she thought was gone forever was downstairs waiting to see you again? What reason could she give for why he left? Could Amelia explain that he might not be staying with them forever if things didn't work out? That he might leave again if he wasn't better like he said? Amelia had to stop in the hallway and let herself cry for a moment. Claire was too young for this confusion and heartache… and Amelia had never wanted this for any of them.

---

Thirty Minutes Later

"There, there," Sam said urgently, tapping on the window of the Impala. Dean slowed the car down and parked in front of the house. They all peered up at the house as the engine cut off. "This is the place, unless the yellow pages are wrong," Sam said, exchanging a tense glance with his brother.

The three Winchesters got out, scoping out the dark, middle-class neighborhood sidewalks as they did. All was calm, quiet. The Novak house was a standard two-story family home. The windows were aglow from the lights inside—the place looked homey and warm.

"Bets on how happy Jim-boy's gonna be to see us?" Dean wisecracked, stuffing Ruby's knife into his jacket as they approached the house. Probably not very. As they ascended the front steps quietly, watchful for signs of anything off, they heard the dead giveaway. Inside the house, the sounds of a scuffle—something falling over, a man yelling, then glass shattering.

Sam and Dean looked at each other then wordlessly, Dean kicked the door in as Alex whipped out the florescent green gun she'd prepped during the car ride. The three of them burst into the Novak home and into a chaotic scene. On the floor of the living room, Jimmy was being brutally beaten by a female demon—he was fighting back weakly. Crumpled nearby and stunned was a small woman with strawberry blonde hair. Amelia. She was groaning and whimpering, staring in horror at the other demon—a large male with black eyes who was holding a blonde pre-teen girl at knifepoint. Claire.

The Winchesters skidded to a stop when they saw the hostage situation. "Hey!" Alex thundered, not really thinking it through, just acting. She was pointing her kiddie squirt gun at the demon holding Claire.

The demon turned, tightened his grip on the girl… then took in the sight of Alex and the harmless toy. He relaxed slightly, a wicked smile spreading over his face. On the floor, the demon beating Jimmy stopped, too, chortling at the sight. A slow, lazy laugh came out of the male demon's mouth. "Nice gun, sweet cheeks."

Next to her, Dean was tensed and ready—he already knew the plan, because it went without saying. Alex smiled facetiously at the demon and then squirted the gun three times. Holy water sprayed out and sizzled on the demon's face on contact, catching him off guard. He let go of Claire, clawing at his own face and screaming as skin melted off. Dean rushed in and finished him with the knife, plunging the knife into the demon's chest. A shocked look was left on the the dead demon's face. Alex shrugged humbly, twirled the gun for effect. "I know."

Claire was wide-eyed and frozen in shock, staring in both awe and terror as Alex set her sights on the other demon—then was suddenly sent backwards to fly into a glass shelf that shattered on impact. Ughhh—Alex blinked, pushing herself up even as Dean went flying sideways to crash into the television set. Ruby's knife clattered to the floor.

Sam held a hand out and the female demon lurched, stumbled underneath the power he was projecting onto her… then nothing. The demon was smiling slowly, unaffected for the most part. Sam's expression became vastly pained and he groaned loudly in agony, holding his other hand to his head like he was about to pass out. He re-doubled his efforts and the demon chuckled, beginning to advance.

Jimmy pushed himself up off the floor and rushed to his daughter, taking hold of her even as Alex was standing up shakily. "Go!" Sam shouted to her. "Get them outta here!"

Alex saw how Dean was reaching for the knife. So she did what Sam said and darted over to Jimmy and Claire, pushing them along. "Come on, come on!" She roughly maneuvered them out of the house and down into the bitter coldness of the night.

They stopped at the Impala, breathless. "My wife—" Jimmy protested as Claire clutched him tightly. He stared back at his house with wild eyes.

"Sam and Dean have it handled," Alex said, holding a hand out when he moved forward a little, like he was going to go back in.

"I should have listened to you," Jimmy bemoaned, looking at the house anxiously.

"Yeah, well." Alex spit out some blood, realizing that she'd bitten the inside of her mouth when she fell. Her hands were scraped up from broken glass, too.

"A-are you okay?" Claire asked, noticing even as Alex did. Her big girlish eyes stared at Alex with stark fear.

"Me?" Alex smiled broadly, acting like it was no big deal. "Oh, I'm good. It's just a couple cuts and scrapes." She set Claire with a kind look, trying to calm her down and keep her from a breakdown or panic attack. "Claire, right? I'm Alex. Those are my brothers Sam and Dean in the house. We're gonna keep you safe." Jimmy's arms tightened around his daughter, who nodded, sniffed, and whimpered. Alex opened the back door of the Impala, looking back at the house tensely. Any second she expected Sam and Dean to high-tail it out of there. "Let's get in the car, okay?" She asked, smiling tightly at Jimmy and Claire. Even as they did as she suggested, Amelia came running out of a side door of the house with coats clutched to her chest.

Sam and Dean burst out of the front door and Dean gestured urgently as they sprinted across the yard to the car. "Let's go, let's go!"

---

In an echoing parking deck that was mostly empty, Sam's harsh tone resounded strongly. "I'm gonna tell you once again, you're putting your family in danger," he said to Jimmy. "You have to come with us."

Chastened, Jimmy looked back at the Impala. The backs of Amelia and Claire's heads were visible through the rear window, and mother was embracing sleeping daughter. Jimmy turned back to the Winchesters and he was conflicted. "How long? And don't give me that 'cross that bridge when we get to it' crap."

Sam's face twisted. "Don't you get it? Forever. The demons will never stop. You can't outrun them, you can't hide, not on your own. You can never be with your family. So you either get as far away from them as possible or you put a bullet in your head." That brusque comment got two surprised looks from his siblings. "And that's how you keep your family safe. But there's no getting out and there's no going home."

"Well, don't sugarcoat it, Sam," Dean said wryly.

Sam shot him a dirty look and his voice stayed just as angry as it had been before. "I'm just telling him the truth, Dean. Someone has to."

Alex gave her twin a lecturing glance. "Well can you at least dial down the douchebag a little bit, or…?"

Sam's expression turned bitchy and he shot his sister a look before setting his jaw grimly and looking at Jimmy intensely, commandingly. His anger was still palatable. "Go tell them Jimmy," he said forcefully. "Tell them goodbye."

Jimmy nodded meekly, seeming shellshocked. He headed for the Impala even as Sam got two very questioning looks from his brother and sister. Alex again tried to offer him help. "Sam, do you need some headache medicine or something—"

"For the last goddamn time, Alex, I'm fine!" He exploded. "Stop asking!" A shocked silence followed and Sam blinked oddly, like he was clearing his vision. "Sorry." He cleared his throat and wet his lips and dodged his brother's expression of confounded disapproval and his sister's wounded what-did-I-do gaze. "Sorry. I'm gonna go find them a car." He brushed past them and headed off into the parking deck to jack a car.

Alex shook her head, watching him go. "Something is wrong with him," she muttered.

A few feet away, Jimmy opened the back door of the Impala and crouched down—Claire was asleep, his trench coat wrapped around her. "Hey," Amelia whispered, trying a smile through her traumatized expression. "So I guess I pretty much owe you the biggest apology ever." She reached out and hesitantly took hold of his hand. He realized that she no longer wore her wedding band or engagement ring.

Jimmy's heart hurt. "No you don't."

Her hand tightened on his a little. "Yes, I do. I'm so sorry, Jimmy. And I will never, ever forgive myself for not believing you. For thinking you were…" her voice dropped to an ashamed whisper, "were crazy."

A sad little smile crossed Jimmy's face and he squeezed her hand. "You did what any rational person would have done. I mean, hell, I thought I was crazy half the time."

Amelia smiled a little, wiping her cheeks with her free hand before she glanced sideways at Dean and Alex, who were speaking intensely nearby. "How do you know these people?"

"They knew me when I was him. Castiel."

Amelia was looking at Alex closely. "Her too?" She looked back at her husband. "She's pretty."

Jimmy's hand loosened, then let go of hers completely. "Amelia..." he said her name with a note of hurt and disappointment. He always hated it when she accused him of having a wandering eye. He never had. Ever.

Amelia seemed to feel guilty about her passive-aggressive statement and she dropped the subject, clasping her hands together. "How can all of this be real?" She asked, almost smiling at the lunacy of it. "Angels, demons… I thought I believed before but I don't think I did. Now I do and… and… I'm scared."

"I know." Jimmy contemplated his wife with a pained expression. She had survived without him for a year. She would have to survive without him some more. Maybe even forever.

"Can we...? Can we even go home, or...?" She looked to him for guidance. "What are we gonna do?"

Jimmy's face fell a little. This was the goodbye, and she wasn't going to like it. "They're gonna get you a car, don't ask me how, and you're gonna take Claire to Carl and Sally's as fast as you can."

Amelia faltered, realizing what he meant. "Wait. What about you?" She shook her head. "...No, I'm not going anywhere without you, Jimmy."

"Listen to me. Every moment that I'm with you, you and Claire are in danger."

"I don't care!" She kept her voice to a whisper to keep from waking Claire, but her voice was very forceful. "We are not splitting up again."

Jimmy looked at his wife sadly. "We don't have a choice."

Amelia contemplated him in confusion and frustration and reluctance. "For how long?"

He shook his head, realizing the bitter irony of what he was about to say. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Amelia pressed her lips together to keep from crying, then looked at their daughter, who was innocent and asleep. She turned back to Jimmy and took in a shaking breath, her eyes filling with tears. "We're a family," she protested softly.

It was all he could do not to fall apart. "They will kill you, Amelia, and they'll kill Claire. You just have to get as far away from me as you can. Keep our daughter safe." His voice cracked with emotion and he could barely say what he did next, because it felt so final. "I love you."

Amelia looked quietly terrified. "W-what are you saying to me, Jimmy?" She asked.

"Sometimes I think I might have opened a door I can never close, Amelia," Jimmy confessed brokenly. He'd promised her that things were going to be different and now he had to run to protect them. Wasn't a man's place with his family? And yet here he was, intending to get as far away from them as possible, stay with the Winchesters. With Alex and with all those thoughts of Castiel's that still filled his head, confusing him. Jimmy vowed to make it through this somehow, starting with this moment right here. He had to tell Amelia goodbye. Quite possibly forever. "I'm sorry," he whispered, begging her to believe him. "I'd do things differently if I could."

His wife's eyes were flooding with unshed tears. "Promise me this won't be the last time I see you, Jimmy," she whispered pleadingly. "Promise me."

Jimmy just shook his head. "I… I don't want to promise you something I can't guarantee," he said, and he was surprised when a warm tear spilled onto his cheek. He was crying too. Amelia sobbed softly and leaned to him, embracing him tightly.

Alex and Dean both watched from nearby, somber, unsettled and sad. They both knew that once you were in this life, you were stuck. Jimmy Novak might as well have been cursed the day that he let Castiel have him.

"He's a devout man. He actually prayed for this."

Alex remembered those words Cas had uttered and she turned away, unable to watch Amelia weeping on her husband or Claire waking up and asking "What's wrong, Daddy?"

Castiel was wrong. No man would pray for this.

---

The car was silent and the mood was tense as Jimmy and the Winchesters drove away from Amelia and Claire.

Ten miles passed, then Dean pulled over to refuel. As he waited and leaned against the car, Sam got out and walked off about fifty feet to make a phone call. He was distinctly agitated and pissed. What was going on with him? Alex hissed a little as she finished disinfecting the scrapes all over her hands from the broken glass. Glancing sidelong, she took in Jimmy's tense, drawn profile. "You okay over there?" she asked softly. They were in the back seat together and he hadn't said a word since they'd left the parking deck.

His eyes flickered downward, his jaw worked just a little. "Not really."

Of course not. He wouldn't be. Alex sympathized. She saw a crimson gash on his cheek. "Hey, you have a bad cut. Lemme see."

Grudgingly, Jimmy let her dab an alcohol pad against the cut on his cheek. He kept his eyes down as she did so. Alex turned and as she dug around in the first aid kit for some medical tape to protect the cut, he sighed gustily. "I never imagined my life would end up this way," he confessed quietly.

His voice gave her pause. "Maybe it won't. Maybe we can find some way to…" she trailed off, not even sure what she was going to say.

Jimmy smiled a little cynically, understanding that she, too, saw no way out for him. "I never thought an angel would destroy my life, you know?" He shook his head ruefully even as Alex ripped off a little tape and patted it down onto his cheek carefully.

She made no comment, because she could think of nothing to say. Did Cas know or understand how he'd all but ruined this man's life? And not just his life, but his wife and daughter's too? Was it the same with the other angels who had vessels, too? Jimmy barely seemed to notice what she was doing. He was staring ahead of himself unseeingly. "I was dead the day I said yes to him."

Sam yanked his door open and sat heavily in his seat, cutting off any reply Alex could have made to Jimmy. He withdrew and leaned against the window and when Dean got back into the car and they hit the highway again, Jimmy appeared to be sleeping. When Sam's phone rang a few moments later and it was Amelia's voice on the other end, a very grim discovery was made: one of the demons that had attacked the Novaks in their home had possessed Amelia and was holding Claire hostage. The Impala made a sharp U-turn and gunned it back the way they'd come.

---

"They were supposed to be safe because I left them!" Jimmy raged in the back seat.

Dean glanced at him in the rear view mirror as he slowed the car down. "Calm down, Jimbo—you're no use to anyone if you can't keep a handle on yourself."

Jimmy put his head in his hands and breathed in and out loudly. "That demon is gonna kill my daughter."

"No one's killing no one," Dean retorted. "Just stay calm."

Exasperated, Jimmy straightened and looked out the window with an apprehensive expression as Dean parked the car. "This the place?" A decrepit old warehouse was slouched across an expanse of concrete that was littered with trash and rubble. The place was the picture of abandoned Americana—complete with broken windows, gaping holes in the sides of the tin walls, and rusted metal beams that sagged underneath the weight of what they held up.

Dean shrugged. "It's the address that demon bitch gave us, so… yeah." They all got out of the car and Dean tossed Sam Ruby's knife even as Alex dug in the trunk and realized they were all out of squirt guns—she'd dropped the last one back at the Novak house. She tucked a flask of holy water into her belt instead, just in case.

"Alright, they're expecting you to come alone," Dean was telling Jimmy, who shrugged on his trench coat. "That's exactly what you're gonna do."

"What?" Jimmy asked, his expression wide-eyed and fearful. "Go in there alone?"

"We'll work our way through the catwalks," Sam explained. "We'll be right behind you."

"All you gotta do is stay calm and stall," Dean added. "Let us do our job."

"How can you ask me to be calm?" Jimmy asked insolently. "This is my family we're talking about!"

Dean pointed a finger at him. "Listen to me, this will work. You understand? Nobody's gonna get hurt."

Jimmy didn't seem convinced. "Yeah, whatever. Gimme a minute, okay?" He sullenly walked off to disappear around the far corner of the warehouse.

Sam, paler than ever and a little clammy—Alex was convinced he had a fever—looked at Dean with an ill expression. "There's no way they're expecting him to come alone. You know this is probably a trap."

"So we do what we always do," Alex interjected.

"What, get our asses handed to us?" Sam asked with a weak little laugh.

Alex just smiled back at him a little and arched an eyebrow. "Spring the trap."

---

"Castiel, you son of a bitch!" Jimmy shouted at the sky. He'd walked a fair distance from the Winchesters and was letting loose on every angry, confused feeling he was holding inside. "You promised me my family would be okay! You promised you were gonna take care of them! I gave you everything you asked me to give, I gave you more! This is the thanks I get? This is what you do? This is your heaven?!" He stopped to catch his breath and the indignant fire faded into despair. "Help me, please. You promised, Cas. Just help me." The night was silent and the stars above twinkled, mocking him. Again, Jimmy flew off the handle. "Where are you?!" He shouted with renewed fury. And when there was no response, he shook his head bitterly. "Typical," he muttered.

"Jimmy." He turned, startled. Alex Winchester stood there smiling wincingly with her arms crossed. "Maybe you shouldn't be shouting when we're about to try and sneak in there?"

He swallowed, suddenly a little self-conscious. "You followed me."

"Just wanted to make sure you were okay," she told him, coming forward. It was strange, her looking at him, not Cas. The bright hazel eyes that Castiel had been so fascinated by flickered over him with hooded concern.

"Yeah. I just… I was trying to get Cas," Jimmy explained weakly, out of options. "You wanna try calling him?"

Alex seemed surprised. "Me?"

"Maybe he'll listen to you," Jimmy suggested. "You are his favorite."

Her surprise changed to stark confusion. "His favorite what?"

Did she really not know? Jimmy didn't have time to wonder. "Just try calling him, okay?"

"Uh. Okay. I already did but… all right." She cleared her throat and glanced at Jimmy self-consciously. She looked skyward and hesitated. "Uh… Cas? Hello? It's… me. Alex. Winchester. Again. Do you ten-four up there?" They both waited but nothing happened. Alex stuck her tongue out just a little to wet her lips, shook her head, then looked down, glancing at Jimmy again abashedly. "No one's listening."

"Oh he's listening. He's just not answering." Jimmy shook his head, at a loss. "I don't get it." His voice softened with deep thought. "I thought for sure he'd come for you." He saw how questions filled her eyes at his statement. Amelia was right, he thought faintly. Alex was pretty. She was youthful with old soul eyes, she was willowy and delicate looking but Jimmy knew firsthand that she wasn't someone to mess around with or make assumptions about. Still, there was a vulnerability to her. A quietness. A loneliness.

"What?" She asked at his long gaze.

He tore his gaze away. "Nothing. I just…" He frowned, in thought someplace far away, murmuring almost to himself. "I wonder… if something happened to him." Because it made no sense. He knew full well how obsessed Castiel was with Alex's safety. For a minute, Jimmy worried about Castiel. He didn't hate the guy. He just wished Castiel had picked someone else.

"Hey, let's go save your girls, all right?" Alex asked, nodding toward the doorway into the warehouse nearby.

Jimmy looked at the doorway and panic rose. His heart jumped into his throat and all he could think of was I am going to get them killed. "I can't," he said, voice rising in choked panic. "I can't. I'm not the kind of man who knows how to do this."

Humiliating tears stung his eyes even as Alex looked at him with an intense, peering frown. "What do you mean?"

"I, I don't know how to fight, or, or, negotiate," he stuttered, getting more and more panicked by the second. "I sell ad time! I'm nothing, I'm no one; I'm not brave or strong—If I go in there and make a wrong move and they die—"

Alex's hands gripped him firm just above his elbows and she made him look at her. "Jimmy. You're not nothing. You're not no one. Keep yourself together, all right? Cas picked you for a reason. Listen, being brave isn't a feeling. It's doing the thing even when you're scared shitless." Her words encouraged him, calmed him. "You are gonna get through this," she insisted without doubt. "You're not alone. I'll be right behind you, and Sam and Dean will be right there, too. Okay?" She seemed so sure and positive, so strong and dependable to him in that moment. Her words had him nodding, seeing hope.

"Okay," he said, nodding more and more, feeling deeply relieved. "Thank you." Impulsively, he reached for her and hugged her as he let out a tensely held breath. He could tell that his sudden move made her feel awkward. Her hand patted his back hesitantly and she was stiff against him. "Thank you," he repeated softer, shutting his eyes for a second and calming himself, pushing his fears away.

When he pulled away, Alex looked uncomfortable. "We should…" she gestured toward the warehouse.

Jimmy nodded, following her gaze. His resolve grew. He drew himself up a little bit. "Yeah." He was scared shitless. But he started walking, and Alex stayed in stride with him. When they reached the door, he reached out and took hold of the handle, then tightened his grip on it, but didn't pull.

"Right behind you," Alex reminded him gently, as if he were a child. Jimmy looked at her one more time then gathered his courage and pulled the door open, stepping into the darkness beyond.

It was difficult to see. His footsteps were loud on the metal floor and he followed a hallway down into a bigger, open area where overhead, metal catwalks cross-crossed. He saw no one. He continued inward. And then he saw Claire, sitting tied to a chair. He ran to his little girl, dropping to his knees in front of her, shaking her gently. "Claire? Sweetie? It's me, it's Daddy!"

Behind him came Amelia's voice, low and cruel. "Oh hi, honey. You're home." Jimmy shot up and whirled, standing in front of his daughter protectively. Amelia smiled wickedly. "And you brought your little whore friend, too." She held her hand up and made a yanking motion. Alex was suddenly pulled out of the darkness she'd been concealed in and flung sidelong into a tin wall hard. She fell down to the floor with a sickening thud and let out a horrible low groan of pain.

Jimmy held a hand out, panicking. "Wait—wait. Listen, I'm—I'm begging you here! You do whatever you want with me, but my wife and daughter and Alex, they're just—they're not a part of this."

"Not a part of this? Sweetie." She tutted scoldingly. "They're all a part of it." Amelia suddenly laughed in the face of Jimmy's horror. "You know, it's funny. I never imagined how lucky I'd get today… not just an empty vessel but the Winchester bunch too?"

On the ground, Alex was pushing herself up onto all fours—her mouth was bloody and her expression seemed to say she was done with the bullshit. "Joke's on you, bitch," she spat, "I'm the only one here."

Amelia smiled, narrowed her eyes. "Mm. There it is. The default Winchester mode: lies." She cocked her head to the side, listening. "There are the other two right now."

Two demons dragged Sam and Dean in as if on cue. "Hiya, Mom," Dean greeted the demon possessing Amelia.

She ignored him, spoke to her henchmen. "Got the knife?" One of the demons, a blonde female, held up Ruby's knife.

Alex gave Amelia a churlish look. "It's not nice to steal."

"Listen, you got us, okay?" Sam asked loudly. "Let these people go."

"I have a better idea." Amelia pulled a gun out of her waistband and turned, shooting Jimmy in the stomach. Pain exploded and Jimmy cried out in shock and fell over. Even moreso when the demon made Amelia hold the gun to her own stomach and shot herself, too. She began to laugh, unaffected by the wound. It wouldn't kill the demon, but it would kill Amelia when she dispossessed her. "Goodbye, Novak family!" Amelia's voice trilled.

Then she turned and set her sights on Claire, sauntering toward her slowly, leisurely checking her gun, even as Sam and Dean struggled against the grips the demons held them in. Amelia suddenly went flying sideways as Alex tackled her. The gun went off loudly.

On the floor, Jimmy was writhing in pain, a hand pressed to the seeping bullet wound in his stomach. He could hear Alex and Amelia fighting, hear Sam and Dean shouting. But it was all a distant buzzing blur. He stared at the ceiling, at the beautiful, strange pattern of rusty catwalks above. He was dying. This was the end. He blinked a few times, struggling to breathe.

Jimmy.

Castiel?

Jimmy, you're dying. Your wife is dying. Your daughter is about to die. I can help you.

No… Castiel… I know what that means. I can't. Not again. Isn't there another way?

I'm sorry Jimmy. There isn't, unless you'd have me to possess your daughter or your father.

What? No! Not them! If I say yes again, how long will you take me away this time?

Forever, Jimmy.

Forever? So, either way I die. I say yes to you and I die because you take me over. I say no and I bleed out on the floor here.

Agree to this and your wife and daughter will both survive. We can save them. The three of you can die today or the two of them can be healed and live long, good lives.

They need me, Cas. I can't just leave again, they won't understand.

I leave the choice to you, Jimmy.

There were tears of pain and fear in Jimmy's eyes and he squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth against horrible pain. A memory came to him out of nowhere. Eight years old and wearing a cape he'd made out of a pillowcase, he'd raced through a grassy field with his favorite toy airplane, making engine sounds. Lost in jubilation, he stopped to spin a circle, delighting in the plane's imagined flight. "I'm gonna fly when I grow up! Planes, helicopters, fighter jets! I'm gonna flyyyyy!"

Jimmy opened his eyes and a tear rolled out the edge of his eye down the side of his face and into his hair. He saw Amelia walking to him on their wedding day, he remembered carrying her across the threshold of their home when love had been bright and hopeful. He saw her in the kitchen, a hand on her growing pregnant belly. He saw Claire when she was a squalling newborn, he felt how his heart had burst inside of him to first hold such a precious gift in his arms. He remembered her first steps and first words. He remembered a good life. And Jimmy let go of it all to save them.

"Yes," he whispered into the echoing space.

A word no one but Castiel heard. A word Jimmy recognized as his last. He turned a little, craning his neck upwards, trying to see Claire one last time before the angel blinded and overpowered him. But his vision was burning white hot as Castiel took over, and he saw nothing and no one.

---

Alex barreled into the demon possessing Amelia and the gun went off loudly as it clattered onto the floor. Wham! The demon's fist connected brutally with Alex's jaw, sending her stumbling back. Sam and Dean were shouting, and it sounded like they were doing the same thing she was. Kicking ass. Or getting their asses kicked. Hard to tell.

Amelia grabbed her by the shoulders and Alex hung on tight, using her weight to throw them both sideways where they fell and rolled around on the hard ground, blindly punching each other's faces and grappling roughly. Alex got a foot up between them and kicked Amelia hard in the stomach where the bullet wound gaped. Amelia rolled away from the force of the kick.

"Sam, no, stop! What are you doing?!" Dean's shout echoed across the warehouse.

Alex looked up, panting raggedly, on her stomach on the ground. What she saw seemed to stop her heart. Sam was crouched over the blonde demon and he withdrew his mouth from her neck. His lips, teeth, and lower face were covered in bright red. He didn't look recognizable, just ruthless and crazed. His eyes were wild and he stared at Dean silently. He seemed to remember himself—he turned around and stabbed Ruby's knife into the demon he'd just drank from. Blood dripped off his chin to the ground as he stood up. He looked like a monster.

Alex suddenly felt herself get grabbed by the back of her hair and to be lifted up with super strength—the cold barrel of a gun was at the side of her neck. She heard the gun cock.

"Hey!" Sam roared. His hand reached his hand toward her and his expression was terrifyingly murderous. Alex flinched, then realized. He was exorcising Amelia's demon. The grip slackened then ended. Alex stumbled away from Amelia and stared as black smoke billowed out of her mouth, dissipating as she coughed. Sam looked strong, able, confident, his powers fully working as demon blood dripped out of his mouth and down his chin and neck. Dean and Alex looked at each other in horrified realization.

The last of the black smoke left Amelia, whose face suddenly showed agony and fear as she became herself again. She clutched at her stomach where blood soaked her shirt. "Oh God!" She gasped, falling to her knees then onto her side. "Aaahh…" she hissed and moaned and whimpered. Jimmy suddenly stood up and went to her, crouched down beside her, touched her stomach.

"Jimmy?" Amelia asked weakly.

"No." His voice was deep and husky, rough. "I am not Jimmy."

Thunderstruck, Alex's mouth dropped open as Castiel healed Amelia's wound. Amelia looked down at his hand on her stomach, eyes wide and afraid with realization. "C-Castiel?!" His eyes met hers. "Where's Jimmy? Where's my husband? What did you do with him?!"

Castiel stood slowly while looking down at Amelia, who was shocked and still half-laying on the floor. "I'm sorry Amelia Novak. Your husband is gone. He exchanged his life for yours and that of your daughter's."

Amelia's face registered alarmed confusion. "What?"

Everyone looked at Claire at that moment, and noticed what they hadn't. The stray bullet the gun had fired a minute ago had hit Claire in the chest. Ribbons of blood trailed down her chest and she was, by all appearances, dead. Amelia sprang up, screaming her daughter's name. Her hands fluttered in a panic, trying to untie her daughter from the chair she was restrained to even as Castiel came up beside her and touched the ropes—singed to ash, they fell away.

Amelia took her daughter into her arms, crying and wailing, on her knees, rocking Claire's limp form. Castiel crouched beside her. "Amelia." Castiel's voice was rich and low. "Have faith. Your daughter will live."

Castiel placed a hand onto Claire's back and Amelia stared, tears forgotten as Claire stirred, frowned, and looked around. "What happened Mommy?" Claire saw Castiel and smiled in relief. "Daddy!" She threw her arms around his neck. "I thought you left!"

Castiel was frowning sternly and Amelia looked sick. Claire seemed to realize something was wrong and drew back slowly, looking at Castiel closely. Her voice lowered to a whisper. "You're… you're not my daddy."

Castiel stood up. "No. I am not." Claire and Amelia clung to each other and watched with disbelief as the man who had been Jimmy Novak walked away from them.

Beside Dean, Alex stared at Cas, who was approaching them. He didn't look at either of them even once. "Cas, where are you going?" Alex asked as Castiel walked past Dean without a glance.

The angel rounded on them slowly, his expression more emotionless than she could ever remember seeing it. He didn't reply.

"And what were you gonna tell me?" Dean prompted, earning a glance from Cas.

"I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean," he said and the sound of his voice seemed to still the room itself. "I serve Heaven, I don't serve man, and I certainly don't serve you." His eyes darted to Alex and his jaw clenched. She saw how he took in her bloody face and injuries. His voice lowered even more as his expression flickered. "Any of you."

And he turned and walked away, leaving a shocked bunch of people behind. Claire's quiet sobs echoed in the large expanse of the warehouse. Nearby, Sam was wiping the blood off his face with the sleeve of his jacket and Alex looked at Dean questioningly, who shook his head just slightly, as if to tell her 'not now.' Sam went to Amelia and Claire, by all appearances he was his normal kind, caring self again.

"He'll never be back, will he?" Amelia asked Sam, her voice shaking. Her arm was around Claire, who was crying quietly.

"Didn't sound like it," Sam said honestly, sadly. "Let's just get outta here, huh?"

Sam ended up carrying Claire, who was so traumatized that walking was difficult for her. Amelia walked beside them, holding her daughter's hand, seeming too shocked to know what to do.

Dean and Alex followed, but slowed down letting Sam and the girls get out of earshot. Alex looked at her brother and waited—she could tell by instinct that he was far, far more shaken up than he was letting on. She had never seen his expression so deadly, so horrified. And truthfully, that's how she felt, too. "I'm stopping us at a gas station after we leave here," he said in hushed and hurried tones. "You go to the bathroom, call Bobby. Tell him to call us and tell us to come there, to make up some reason—I don't care what—for us to hightail it over. And we'll put Sam in the panic room until we figure out what the hell is going on with him."

Alex nodded, feeling ill. "Okay."

"Do not let Sam know anything is up. We can't let him get away. He has to suspect nothing. You got it?"

It was with a sadness her heart had never felt before that she nodded her understanding. She felt her eyes sting with tears, and Dean held up a commanding, angry finger. "No, Alex, no. Later. Later, you and I will do that crap. Right now, everything's normal, you understand?"

Alex cleared her throat and forced herself to go blank. "Yeah. Got it."

---

They drove through a rainstorm in silence. In the back seat, Alex could feel the tension building, but refused to be the one to break the silence and to broach the subject. When she'd gone into the gas station bathroom to call Bobby, she had almost lost it completely. She wasn't sure if she could actually keep it together when the time came.

And there wasn't just Sam drinking the demon's blood. She again replayed the moment in her mind. Where Cas had turned and looked at them with such heartlessness. With such utter lack of anything. She didn't understand. What happened? And Amelia, Claire. Would they be all right? And what about Jimmy?

In the front seat, Sam drew in a deep breath and cleared his throat. "All right, let's hear it," Sam said, and Alex glanced up.

"Hear what?" Dean asked, sounding completely normal.

"Drop the bomb, man," Sam said. "You saw what I did. Come on, stop the car, take a swing."

"I'm not gonna take a swing," Dean replied evenly.

Alex could see Sam's expression scrunch in puzzled suspicion, then he turned and looked at her. "Alex? You don't wanna scream my head off? Rip me a new one?"

Under his questioning gaze, she wanted to squirm. But she shrugged. Dean said Sam couldn't suspect anything. So she played it cool. "What can I say, Sam." She flicked a fuzzball off her jacket sleeve as if in boredom. "It explains a hell of a lot."

Sam scoffed, looking at Dean again, then Alex, then Dean, totally aghast. "Come on! You guys aren't gonna give me hell about this?"

"I think we're both too tired, Sam," Alex said, which was true. "Too tired and too sad to be angry."

"Okay, well, at least let me explain myself," Sam said.

Dean shook his head. "Don't. I don't care."

"You don't care?" Sam echoed in disbelief.

"What you want me to say, that I'm disappointed? Yeah, I am. But, mostly, I'm just tired, man. I'm done. I am just done." Alex heard his voice waver just slightly.

In total disbelief, Sam just stared at Dean. Then his cell phone rang. Alex's eyes jumped up, her pulse picked up. "Hey, Bobby," Sam said.

Alex shut her eyes in emotional pain. And so, the trap would be set. She never thought, in a thousand years, that they would be luring her big brother like an animal. Like a monster.

---

Later That Night
Sioux Falls, South Dakota

"Well, thanks for shaking a tail," Bobby said, leading the Winchesters toward the panic room.

"You got it," Dean said. He still sounded normal. Alex was saying as little as possible.

"Go on inside," Bobby said, motioning for them to go inside, letting Sam take the lead. "I wanna show you something."

Alex's blood thundered in her ears as Sam, without any hesitation or suspicion, stepped inside. Clueless. "So, what's the big demon problem?" he turned to them. His expression was too pleasant, too trusting.

Alex thought she felt her heart literally break as Bobby replied, "You are."

Sam's expression wavered. "This is for your own good," Bobby said, and shut the door with a loud bang.

"Guys? Hey, hey. What's… what are you doing?" his voice was quickly becoming panicked. Bobby closed and latched the window. "This isn't funny. Guys! Hey! GUYS!"

The second the door shut and latched closed, Alex's careful guise of calm indifference was gone and she leaned against the wall of the panic room, one hand on either side of her head, painful tears falling silently as her shoulders shook. Sam's shouts echoed loudly on the other side of the wall. She felt Dean pull her away and into his arms, tightly. "Come on kids," Bobby said gently. "It's best if we put some space between us and him for right now."

They went upstairs, Dean pulling Alex along by her forearm. She could barely walk. At the top of the stairs, Alex turned to Dean. "How did this happen?" she asked through tears. "Who is that in there? What happened to Sam?"

Dean's expression was pained and guilty. He didn't know anything more than she did. "I… I don't know."

"How didn't we see this, Dean?" Alex asked, desperate for him to set her at ease in any small way.

He was barely able to look at her. His voice was soft and confused. "What, that he was sucking demon blood? I mean, call me crazy but that's not the first conclusion you'd logically jump to." He looked down, putting his face in his hand. "Dammit. I didn't see this coming. I didn't see this coming."

Alex looked down the stairs into the darkness. Sam's panicked, confusion shouts were echoing loudly. "Dean. He'll never forgive us for this."

Dean looked at her, his expression unreadable. "I don't know if I can ever forgive him."

---

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Alex threw one last knife, using all the pent up anger and frustration she was holding inside. Thunk. It pummeled into the side of the car easily, and she went and yanked out all the knives she'd thrown, the sound of scraping hurting her ears.

Out of steam, she clunked the knives down on the roof of the car, closing her eyes tiredly. Sam was still shouting himself hoarse a couple hours after being locked in. Alex he couldn't be in the house. She didn't know what to do, what to think.

And then there was Cas. She remembered the other night, when she swore he was a different person altogether, listening to her drunken rants... touching her hand as if to comfort her. What had happened? Why was he suddenly a stranger again? How could he just take Jimmy's life like that? How did he just walk away from Amelia and Claire without any visible emotion whatsoever? She didn't believe that Cas was really like that. But maybe that was just denial. Maybe she had it all wrong.

She looked up into the night sky, breathing out and watching her breath dissipate in a little cloud. She waited a very long moment, not sure if she wanted to do this or not. In the end, she decided she did. "Cas? Are you there?"

There was a soft sound behind her and she turned. There he stood, looking at her with a rigid and blank expression. It was startling how fast he arrived. "What is it, Alex?" He looked to his left and right, assessing the location. "What do you need?"

"To talk to you," she said, coming closer to him and seeing Jimmy Novak all over again. And yet, not a trace of Jimmy remained. Identical face, totally different person.

Cas remained distant and stony. "If you're not in danger and need nothing substantial from me, I have no business being here."

He turned, as if to walk away. "Wait! Cas!" Alex darted forward and caught him by the shoulder. Even though he had the strength to rip her in half, he stayed and turned a little, meeting her gaze grudgingly after glancing at her hand almost contemptuously.

She let go, confused. "Where'd you go? Why'd you just leave? What happened?"

His jaw tightened with what appeared to be impatience. "It's none of your concern."

"None of my concern?" she repeated, first offended, and then pissed. "Fine. Don't tell me what happened. Why you got dragged back to Heaven." She set him with all the uncertainty she felt. "You ruined a man's life," she accused out of the blue, trying to see some kind of empathy in him. "How are you all right with that?"

Castiel's face was terse. "Alex Winchester, I am not afforded the luxury of having an emotional reaction to that." Her face went slack in surprise at his words and attitude. "He agreed to this. He knew the stakes. And it was necessary." His answers were short, precise, and apathetic.

"Necessary my ass!" Alex retorted angrily.

Castiel's eyes held hers unflinchingly. He seemed so cold. "Child, you presume to know the workings of Heaven and righteousness but you are wholly ignorant."

"...Child?" she repeated incredulously. His words, demeanor, and stance—all of it—shocked her. "Wha—?" She narrowed her eyes in a concerned frown, not even offended. He didn't sound like himself, and she was beginning to suspect that something had happened to him. "What did they do to you up there?" she asked intently.

His expression flickered, then became hard and dark again. "I already told you. None of that is any of your concern."

"It is," Alex insisted stubbornly, boldly.

"Why?" he challenged, and there was a short, startled silence.

"Because…" she trailed off, realizing why. "I thought we were… friends." He'd said as much and shit, she'd believed him without even realizing it. He'd meant it—she knew he had. Her eyes stung with surprising emotion and her voice softened to accommodate it. "Why are you being like this?"

He saw her shining eyes and Castiel's jaw clenched, his eyes went down, he spoke gruffly. "I have no need of friendship. Not yours, not Dean's, not anyone's."

"But you said…" Alex was unable to hide her wounded expression. She gave a cynical little laugh and abandoned her attempts. "A lot of bullshit, I guess."

"I spoke out of turn to you previously," Castiel said in a low voice. "Now if you need nothing further—"

She grabbed him by the arm, not even thinking—just refusing again to believe how he was acting. "No. Don't walk away from me."

Their eyes met and his expression was unreadable. "Let go of me, Alex."

Alex scowled at him, losing her temper and getting combative. "Or what? You gonna throw me across the yard? Knock me out? Handcuff me to a wall?" He stared at her unflinchingly for a long few seconds, and Alex just stared him down, unruffled, demanding of an explanation. "I may be 'wholly ignorant' to a lot of shit—but this isn't you, the way you're acting right now."

"You—do not—know me," he growled. He brushed her aside easily, walking a few paces. He kept his back to her. "The relationship you and I had is over. I'm not your friend. I am your protector. That's all." He sounded so insistent and harsh.

Silence. Confused, hurt, unsure silence.

"But why?" Alex was lost. "I don't understand," she said softly. "I thought…" she trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.

If she could have seen his face, she would have seen him close his eyes with a severely pained expression on his face. He could barely conceal his inner feelings, the feelings that had contributed to the removal from his vessel and subsequent punishment. He couldn't let her hear how much he cared, and he couldn't allow Heaven to see, either. But the truth did not escape him: It was lying. He was a liar. Still, he knew what had to be done. He opened his eyes, steeling himself and wiping all emotion from his face and voice. "You thought wrong," he told her without any empathy. And then he was gone.

Alex stared at the spot where he had been, deeply wounded and sorry she had even called him there at all. Sorry that she had thought he would listen to her or share his situation with her. She was once again reminded why she didn't allow people in. She wanted to be angry and bitter about Castiel, but instead all she could feel was hurt. Deeply, painfully, hurt. She had trusted him and let him in. More than she should have. And this was what she had to show for it. Absolutely nothing. The same as poor, wretched Jimmy Novak.

Maybe it was because of the highly exhausting day she'd had or the emotional roller coaster. Maybe it was because of Sam, or Jimmy, because Amelia and Claire, because Castiel. But tears filled her eyes and one rolled down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut. And she only saw one face there in her mind's eye: Castiel.

---

The angel stood on a boat loading dock somewhere in New Jersey, leaned over the railing, staring down into the water tensely. Castiel was trying not to reflect on the conversation he'd just had. He was trying to ignore the way his pulse had picked up, the upset feeling that had been left in his stomach at her sadness and pleading. There had been tears gathering in her eyes. Were those tears because of him? He thought of her face, so beaten up by the demon—a split lip, a bruised cheek and jaw, a black eye, painful-looking cuts on her hands…

He was forbidden to heal her unless it was a fatal wound. It seemed so hypocritical. She was the only one he wasn't allowed to assist in that way. It was a test, and he knew it.

His brethren in Heaven—Raphael and Michael—had given him a final warning. His affections for and unnecessary involvement with the Winchesters had to end or he would be punished severely. They told him he was choosing sides. They told him he was failing. They told him he was becoming weak and faithless. They told him this was his final chance. And Castiel had no choice but to obey. He wanted to be a faithful servant of the Lord… but he also wanted to heal Alex. He also wanted to be her friend.

Why did he have doubt after doubt? And why, when he saw the hurt in Alex's eyes—hurt caused by him—why did he feel so sick inside? It had been difficult to look at her in the eye and be rough and callous to her. Still, he had done it, knowing he was protecting them both from Heavenly consequences. And she had looked right back at him and in the face of his purposeful insults had expressed concern for him. How had she known that something happened to him? It surprised and then unsettled him that she saw past his front.

He shouldn't think of her. Not the soft way she sighed, not the way her brow furrowed in thought, not the way her eyelashes fanned out darkly when she looked down. He shouldn't think of the fiery glares or the eye rolls or the crossed arms, the times she'd challenged him and been kind to him alike. He shouldn't dwell on the sound of her laugh, which he hadn't heard enough times. Nor the thought of her gaze meeting his…

Castiel shook himself. The right thing to do was to cut ties with her and her brothers. He could forsake his position as Alex's guardian and allow another angel to do the job. As soon as he thought that, he rejected the idea. No. He didn't want that.

Want. The word was a bitter thing lodged in him. Inescapable. Castiel knew that he'd been walking a dangerous line for some time now and was letting his feelings and newfound emotions sway him. The word 'want' had never applied to him before. He had never used it or felt it before her.

He looked over the dark, shimmering water that laid before him lit by moonlight. He didn't know how to stop caring. And he wasn't sure if he truly wanted to. Her face came to mind again, so hurt by what he'd said to her tonight.

He bowed his head deeply, recognizing that what he was feeling in that moment was sadness.