Song Remains the Same
Chapter 33 / Mr. Self Destruct
"Dad, your boy's about to fall, he walks the razor's edge.
He's on the brink of fading out, he's at his bitter end."
- The Juliana Theory
Dean Winchester vaguely heard something drop—whatever he'd been holding (he didn't remember). His internal alarm was already blaring at a deafening volume. For a single moment, he could only stare at the sight before him. He was absolutely, completely shocked.
Under the flickering neon light of the motel sign, Castiel was kissing Alex. The two of them were close, too close—it almost looked like Alex was inside the damn trench coat—and the angel had a tender hand cupped against her face as they kissed each other in an unashamedly sensual, deep way. They looked like two people in love.
"Don't let it happen. Trust me. They'll undo each other. Destroy each other."
The words that 2014-Dean had told him echoed through his head violently. The shock was fading fast into anger, but more than just anger there was a deep and clawing dread, a sudden horrified fear that it was too late, that all of his suspicions had been so much truer than he had dared to think. And Dean suddenly found himself remembering what that damn cupid had said to him. "Like it or not Dean, some things are just meant to be!" No. Not this! It couldn't happen—for a million and one reasons, but most of all because it got his baby sister killed in the end. The irony wasn't lost on Dean either: Alex's guardian angel—the dude who was supposed to protect her—was knowingly doing something that would land her six feet under. That motherfucker.
Dean felt like something snapped inside. How dare that angel bastard? Cas knew, he knew that them being together or involved or whatever was what got Alex killed and he was still out there, kissing her in the most romantic way Dean had ever seen anyone kiss anyone. His stomach turned.
"Think about it, Dean," Cas had said to Dean recently. "I don't feel things the way you feel them. I'm not human. I'm incapable of… that."
Incapable my ass, you fucking liar. That damn angel had all but sworn to Dean that he wouldn't let himself and Alex end up together, that he'd 'do anything' to prevent it. Righteous anger and something like hatred coursed through Dean's veins as he watched the angel and his sister part. Cas took both of her hands in his and the two gazed at each other in silence with indescribable, soft expressions on their faces.
How long had this been going on?
Dean's fists were clenched, his nostrils were flared, his blood was boiling, and he couldn't just stand there anymore. He blustered out of the motel, not even bothering to close the door behind him, just flinging it open in a fit of rage, startling his sister and the angel. Alex immediately backpedaled toward the Impala, letting go of Cas's hands and looking at her brother in almost fear—Cas was stern—but Dean was too busy charging into the space between them to care or notice. Dean grabbed his sister roughly by her upper arm, forcefully propelling her toward the back door of the Impala. "Ouch, Dean!" she protested, sounding surprised as she tried to pull her arm away.
He only gripped harder. "Just get in the damn car!" he thundered, staring down at her with a murderous glare. She stared up at him in shock and fright, and maybe any other time knowing he'd made her afraid would have upset Dean, but today? Today he wanted her to be scared, he wanted her to wake up, because what she was doing with Cas, whatever the hell it was—was dangerous and she should be afraid. He hadn't saved her ass all these times over the years to watch her throw her life away now.
Behind him, he heard Cas take a step closer. "Dean, what are you doing?" the angel asked, his question a mixture of genuine uncertainty and warning.
Dean's skin crawled at the sound of that voice and he turned slowly. "Does this look like any of your business, Cas?"
Cas's face darkened. There was no mistaking the threatening tone in his deep voice. "Let go of your sister, Dean."
Dean did just that so that he could turn around to Cas and get in his face. He was shaking, barely containing his wrath. "You got some damn nerve, Cas… I thought I could trust you! You lied to me!" he shouted accusingly, grabbing the angel's lapels as hard as he could. Cas looked unperturbed at the physical assault—his face only registered guilt, which only made Dean want to pummel him into the ground even more. Sam appeared in the doorway, just in time to witness what happened next.
Alex grabbed onto Dean sort of uselessly, trying to pull him away from Cas. "Stop it Dean!"
Riled past the point of clear thought, her brother threw his arm out, pushing her away rougher than he meant to. Alex was sent stumbling back toward the Impala from the force of the push. Cas's face went cold when Alex thudded up against the side of the car, and Dean realized he probably shouldn't have done that—but he didn't have a chance to say or do anything else. He was picked up by the shoulders like he weighed nothing and sent flying into the side of the motel where he collided back-first and then fell onto all fours.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Dean heard Sam shouting. Dazed, he looked up to see that Cas had gone to Alex and was touching her on either arm like he was checking to see if she was okay or not, then sending Dean a scalding glare, as if to ask 'how dare you?'
"What the hell is going on here?!" Sam demanded, looking from Alex and Cas to Dean, his expression a cross between angry and shocked.
Picking himself up off the ground and more pissed off than ever at Cas, Dean looked at his brother with a venomous glare as he vigorously dusted off his arms. "That's what I wanna fucking know!"
Dean noticed the pastor was standing just outside the motel door and looking at the four of them in shocked uncertainty, holding the stake idly. Sam seemed aware of it too and glanced at Alex and Cas, then looked at Dean, lowering his voice. "Dean, now is not the time for this."
Dean looked at his brother in disbelief, his eyes narrowing. "You knew about this, Sam?"
His younger brother's face registered both guilt and annoyance, and he sidestepped answering. "Dean—come on. We have a job to do right now."
Dean felt hot anger pumping through his veins. "Forget it," he spat in disgust, and then gave a facetious little smile, looking at his brother, sister, and the angel, barely able to contain how much rage he was feeling. "You know what. You're right. Let's go kill something—" The smile fell away coldly, "before I murder one of you instead." Dean's jacket snapped sharply with the force in which he straightened it, his face twisting into an acidic scowl, and he proceeded to avoid looking anyone in the eye. "Everyone just get in the damn car already so we can get this over with," Dean barked, already on his way over to the Impala, too angry to think straight.
"No," Cas said, startling everyone.
"…No?" Dean repeated, frozen with his hand on the car door handle, an incredulous, wrathful look on his face. Cas's expression was every bit as rigid and angry as Dean's, and even Alex was looking at him with surprise.
"We'll meet you there," Cas said with a deep finality that didn't leave any room for argument, his eyes hard on Dean's.
And Dean opened his mouth to tell him he sure as hell better not even think about it—but Cas put a hand on Alex's shoulder and the two of them vanished into thin air, leaving Dean to stare, shocked into silence—but only for about two seconds. "Son of a bitch!"
They arrived across from the tiny old church on the darkened sidewalk—the light in the church steeple cast a soft glow into the foggy night. A few streetlamps dotted the road in either direction, misty halos floating in the air every twenty feet. Cas took his hand off Alex's shoulder and peered at her intently, unable to believe how carelessly and roughly Dean had shoved her aside a minute ago. "Are you all right?"
"I'm f—I'm fine," she replied, but from the look on her face and the tone of her voice, he didn't believe her.
"Did your brother frighten you?" Cas asked, trying to come closer to her, but she looked at him with wide eyes and seemed to think about stepping back from him—and his stomach felt like it dropped. "I frightened you," he breathed as he realized it. A dismal feeling settling over him at the realization that his impulsive, violent reaction to Dean's outburst had scared her. He thought hard and fast, trying to rationalize what he'd done, to understand it, even. All he'd seen was Dean push Alex too hard and Cas had felt such impossible amounts of indignant anger. He struggled to understand, looking at Alex for an answer. "Did I... overreact?"
Her eyebrows raised up. "Maybe a little?" Her reply was a question and an answer, like she wasn't sure either. "He hit the motel so hard—" she trailed off and Cas felt a clear sense of mortification. He had overreacted. "You could've really hurt him..."
"I'm sorry," he told Alex earnestly, struggling to understand his actions and her reaction. "I thought he hurt you and I… I acted. Without thinking." He looked down, becoming miserable as he thought about the irony of what he was about to tell her—because it seemed so foolish to say when he was endangering her by choosing to be close to her. But it was the truth, it was all he'd ever tried to do. "I was trying to protect you."
When he said that, Alex came closer to him and touched his forearm, and he looked up at her again, torn. "I know you were," she told him, then she looked at her hand, examining his arm, maybe thinking of how that arm she grasped wasn't his at all, or hadn't always been. She'd grown quieter. "I just… sometimes I forget. How strong you are." Her eyes raised to meet his, and he saw a quiet sadness there, an uncertain vulnerability. "How different you and I are from each other."
Cas felt as if the sadness in her eyes reached out and brushed up against him, leaving an ache somewhere beneath his ribs. He had known that for a long time. How very different they were. He knew it better than she did. Still, hearing her say it, knowing that she realized it too… left him feeling closer to her instead of further away.
He thought back to the time when he'd measured the distance between them in the space of his mind. He thought back to the time when he'd watched her for that silent year before he'd obtained his vessel. He'd always known, especially then, that they were from separate worlds and different realms. In the beginning he hadn't imagined or thought that would ever change—he had been incorporeal light and Grace, totally separate and removed from humanity—above it, watching with interest and fondness but no real connection to the people who inhabited the earth. And Castiel had viewed himself as just another guardian angel charged with watching over a human—only, he had discovered that this one wasn't quite like the others. He'd been drawn to her and protective by instinct—she'd always been worthy of safeguarding and deserving of her voice. And even back then when she'd been impossible for him to reach out and touch—even then she'd called forth reactions and instincts out of him that nothing else and no one else ever had.
Just like today. When he'd seen her oldest brother push her away roughly—it had triggered something and he'd lost his mind for the space of two seconds. He reflected with a great amount of discomfort how emotional and unstable he had become—he was piloted by how he felt, at the cost of the Winchester family, at the cost of Alex. Perhaps this was all a huge mistake—could he really take the chance on her life? What if he couldn't find a way to change her future?
"Cas? What is it?" Alex asked, and he came out of the fog of his thoughts to see her looking up at him, her eyebrows pressing in together slightly, her eyes searching his. And as he thought of how beautiful she was, the same place hurt again beneath his ribs. He had no choice but to change her future—and he wouldn't leave her. He'd meant what he told her earlier: He would find a way to change the future even if it took everything he had.
Feeling too many emotions to bear, he took her hands again. And he thought of her thudding against the car again, he thought of John Winchester pushing her around when she was younger and he shook his head, feeling agonized. "Dean shouldn't be rough with you like that."
Her eyes lowered. There was no disguising that she was upset about it. "He never has been before," she said faintly. "I think… I think it was an accident." She paused and their eyes met. He hoped she was correct. "Listen," Alex said, and her voice was soft and introspective. "Dean can be a huge douchebag sometimes. But at the end of the day, he's my big brother. He's not perfect. Not close." She paused, her lips curved up lopsidedly into something like a reluctant, if fond, smile. "If I was strong enough I probably would have thrown him against a building, too." Her little smile faded as she thought hard. "Point is, he can be a pretty horrible person to be around sometimes but… his heart's in the right place." She sounded weary. "He's just... trying in the only way he knows how to keep me safe." Cas felt a surge of concern. The same could be said for him. He looked down at their hands, noting how their fingers entwined. Her fingers tightened in Cas's. "He can't know Cas, about… what we did in the library."
Cas brushed a thumb over her knuckles as his eyes came up to hers slowly. "I know."
"He wouldn't understand," she told him, her voice softening in volume but rising slightly in pitch as her expression grew more emotional.
"I know," Cas repeated.
"He's probably gonna try to kill you right now as it is." She paused, the slightest amount of reluctant amusement flitting across her face. "Try being the operative word." She looked down at their hands and her fingers loosened a bit as she grew somber and slightly distressed. "I'm sorry Cas."
Those three words confused him. "For what?"
She shook her head and looked away, guilty and troubled. "I got you kicked out of Heaven… got you shot today trying to protect me… got you in trouble for giving me my voice back…" Her eyes came back to him. "You never did tell me much about that." She sounded hesitant to ask directly. And Cas didn't want her to know what he had lost to give her the ability to speak. If she felt guilty for it now, without knowing, she couldn't know the full story. "Anyway," she said wearily, "I guess what I'm trying to say is that all I've ever done is mess you up. And I'm sorry. I just... I don't like seeing you in pain or having a hard time."
Cas quickly corrected her, feeling almost hurt that she could assume she bore any guilt in any of those circumstances. "Alex, those things happened because of my choices." He paused. "And I don't regret them." He tightened his grip on her hands. He would do it all again without question or hesitation. "None of those things are your fault."
Her eyes were dark and full, catching the light off the church steeple. "You sure about that?" she asked him quietly.
"Yes," he replied without hesitation.
She stared at him with eyes that were soft and filled with disbelief or wonder. Every part of him responded to the sight of her so vulnerable and trusting there in front of him. And even as she was stepping forward to him, he was circling his arms around her in a gentle hug. He felt her arms around him inside the trench coat and her head nestled against his shoulder. He could feel her breathe. She was warm against him. His eyes closed without him meaning for them to.
He was of Heaven and she was of earth, he was immortal and she was not, they were not supposed to be pursuing each other the way that they were. Castiel thought of all the insurmountable things that stood against them. But however powerful the forces of fate and destiny were… the connection he shared with this woman, the incomparable and growing relationship between them, the things he felt for her and thought about her… these things were more powerful than anything else. His eyes opened. "Maybe it doesn't matter," he mused. He frowned to himself as he thought about it.
"What doesn't?" she asked, drawing back from the hug enough to be able to look up at him. Their hands rested on either side of the other's waist.
"That we're different from each other," he told her, feeling uncertain about how he was phrasing himself. The words felt clumsy and thick in his mouth. "I don't… it doesn't change anything. About how I…" he couldn't finish the sentence, he didn't really know how to say it or if he should. He suddenly felt unworthy, like telling her what he thought of her would be comparable to presenting dirty table scraps to a queen.
Alex waited anxiously, breathless. "About how you what, Cas?"
Cas opened his mouth to reply—then paused when Alex turned, hearing something. He heard it too—the approaching roar of a car. Headlights sliced through the darkness, swinging around the closest street corner with a giant lurch. "Geez," Alex commented dismally under her breath, pulling out of Cas's arms as she muttered something about "speed demon." The Impala streaked through the night toward them at record speed, and most assuredly with it came the wrath of Dean. Cas's mood darkened measurably.
The car jerked to a halt across the street from them, right in front of a sign that said NO PARKING ANY TIME. Dean got out immediately, his expression screwed up in anger as he stared Cas down and slammed the car door vigorously. No doubt Dean was angry that Cas had transported Alex away so abruptly, but Cas didn't wither under the oldest Winchester's angry stare like he might have in the past. He only gazed back unwaveringly—he didn't require Dean's permission to remove Alex from volatile situations.
Dean looked at Alex and Cas standing there across the street on the sidewalk. They were standing close, shoulders touching, and they both looked at him mistrustfully—and Cas, okay, he could deal with getting that look from him, but Alex, too? What the hell! Why the fuck was Cas acting like Alex needed protection from him? He was her brother for crying out loud! This was just ridiculous. Dean barely registered the sound of Sam and the pastor getting out of the Impala; all he could do was steam in incredulous anger. On the way over here as he'd run every single stop sign and the one red light, Dean had been trying to figure out what the hell to do, how to deal with this situation, how to knock some sense into his sister and get that friggin' angel to back off. He had no clue how to accomplish either of those things—and when Dean Winchester didn't know what to do, he wasn't happy. And when he wasn't happy... no one was gonna be happy.
"What, you two gonna stand there all day or are we gonna gank this bitch?" Dean demanded. He watched with rising blood pressure as his sister and the angel glanced at each other as if checking in and seeing what the other one wanted to do. And then Cas led the way over slowly, Alex trailing beside him and slightly behind.
"You okay, pastor?" Dean heard Sam ask behind him as two car doors shut one right after the other.
"Yeah just... a little carsick," the pastor said, sounding unwell.
"Yeah," Sam's voice replied, and Dean knew the sassy attitude was pointed directly at him. "Me too."
Dean turned and looked at his brother balefully. He wasn't apologizing for driving fast and crazy. Sam gave him one of those faces he saved for when he thought Dean was being a tool and he disapproved. "Bite me," Dean retorted in reply to his brother's unspoken condemnation. The pastor looked at Dean in growing uncertainty.
Dean turned his attention back to Cas, who stood a few feet off in front of him with Alex—she should be beside Dean, not Cas. He almost reached out and yanked his sister away from the angel, then thought twice about it—he'd gotten a pretty solid reminder of how strong Cas was a few minutes ago. So Dean decided it was better not to get thrown at something again. He gritted his teeth, willing himself to stay calm and just get this job finished. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, being civil to Cas when he wanted to punch him in the face. But still, Dean somehow managed. For now. "Alright, Cas, buddy," he said with a great amount of sarcasm and restraint. "Why don't you shazam yourself in there and do us some recon, huh? Find out where the Whore is?"
Cas appeared reluctant at Dean's suggestion… maybe because it wasn't actually a suggestion. The angel glanced over and down at Alex—who gave him a nod so subtle it was almost unnoticeable. Almost. And with one final terse glance at Dean, Cas disappeared. Dean was irate all over again. "Got the boyfriend trained pretty good, huh?" he jeered, unable to bite back an angry, sarcastic comment. He was even angrier when his sister didn't respond to the bait, just ignored him except for clenching her jaw and crossing her arms.
"Uh, no one's even told me how exactly we're going to… to do this," the pastor said hesitantly, and Dean wheeled, realizing that in his rage he had sort of forgotten that little detail: the task at hand of killing the Whore of Babylon. He hadn't given it any thought at all, not since… seeing what he'd seen. Dean didn't really want deal with this whole Whore thing, he was too busy blowing a gasket over this other crisis. He was at his fucking limit at this point.
Cas reappeared. "The Whore is in the fellowship hall with some others," he said. "They're… locking people into a small room inside the church."
"What?" Sam asked.
"What the hell for?" Dean demanded.
Cas's eyes slid sharply to Dean's. "I don't know. I suggest we hurry."
Dean made a face. "Yeah, great." He pulled together a plan out of thin air, too fed up to give it much thought. "Okay Trenchcoat, you go in there, stick with the Whore, wait for the signal." Dean looked at the padre at this point. "We get the jump on her, angel boy over there grabs her, holds her down, you stick the stake in her, we call it a day. Sound good?" He looked at everyone briefly in turn, daring them to ask him more questions or do something to further sour his mood. "Simple enough for all of you?"
Sam and Alex looked annoyed with him, Cas looked vaguely foreboding, the pastor looked physically ill and also doubtful, regarding Dean with suspicion, like he wasn't sure who put him in charge. "Great," Dean said without any enthusiasm, just more bad attitude. "Let's do this."
He started out toward the church, striding with purpose, propelled by anger and frustration—the usual. Everyone followed him except Cas. Dean paused, looking back, raised his eyebrows and jutted his chin out as Sam and the pastor continued. "What are you waiting for?" Dean prompted impatiently. "Did you forget what I told you to do? Inside. Wait for the signal." Cas held Dean's gaze, then his eyes flickered to Alex, who'd stopped a couple steps ahead of Dean. Cas then looked at Sam, who was right at the church door, turned back halfway in concern. It looked to Dean like Cas was gauging how safe it was to leave Alex alone with him—and just when Dean was about to say something douchey to him again, Cas disappeared. "Give me a friggin' break," Dean muttered, turning back around toward the church, only to be confronted by the pissed face of his sister right in front of him.
"You really need to stop that," Alex told him with a dark, quiet anger.
Dean looked at her pointedly. "Stop what?"
She gave him a look that clearly said 'you know what you asshole.' But she said nothing, visibly trying her best not to detonate on him in the middle of the job. Still, if looks could kill...
"Guys, we gotta go now," Sam said, gesturing at the unopened church door.
The pastor's grip tightened on the stake, he looked sickened—and maybe on any other day, Dean would have felt for the guy, but today he was too overwhelmed with everything else, and he decided that he couldn't let another single minute go by without saying something to his sister. "We'll catch up," Dean told his brother, in a tone that suggested there was to be no arguing. But Sam looked doubtful and reluctant, his gaze darting to his twin and then back to his brother.
"Dean, are you serio—" Sam started.
"I said we'll catch up Sam!" Dean exclaimed forcefully. At the outburst, Sam shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh, moving like he was about to come over there—but then Alex held up a hand.
"It's fine Sam," she told him.
Sam stopped, his brows furrowed deeply. "You sure?"
Alex glanced at Dean darkly, then at Sam again. "Yeah. Just go."
Sam looked unhappy about it, but he said nothing, just looked at them both for a beat and then turned with a final backward glance to disappear into the church with the pastor following.
Alex turned her head smoothly, looked at Dean cooly, her arms crossed. "What's your problem?" Her cynical, rude tone was one he wasn't used to.
"I saw the two of you, okay?" Dean said. "I saw him kissing you." She held her ground when he went closer to her and lowered his voice. "How long's this been going on, huh?" he demanded. "And don't you dare tell me you don't know what I'm talking about."
She was irritated by his question, looking at him with a narrow-eyed scowl. "It's not that simple."
"Like hell it isn't!" Dean raged, his blood pressure off the charts. "I will rip his fucking wings off, that lying bastard."
"You know what, screw you," Alex said, looking at him like he was scum. "I'm starting to get why Sam left for Stanford."
He soured defensively. "Oh please—"
"Stop bossing me around, Dean!" she all but exploded—and he had never heard her scream like that at anyone, ever. He was momentarily shocked into silence. She was breathless in her anger, she was flustered, her voice was raising in pitch, she sounded accusing when she spoke again. "What, you're only gonna be nice to me if I do exactly what you want all the time? You're only gonna respect me if I constantly walk on eggshells around you? Does that remind you of anybody, huh?" Dean's jaw tightened because he knew, right away, that she meant Dad. "I have followed you my entire life," Alex said acidly, "I have always done what you said. But things changed." She looked at him coldly, shook her head, then set her mouth into a tense line. "And you don't get to decide my shit anymore." She moved to go inside, but Dean stopped her, exploding.
"You don't get to make decisions if you're gonna be so goddamn stupid about them! I mean, come on!" He looked at her like she was nuts. "You got a death wish, Al? 'Cause it sure looks that way from where I'm sitting!"
"You're the one thinking about saying yes to Michael, so don't even fucking start!" she retorted, voice bordering on a shout. She stopped, visibly forcing herself to calm down. "If I want to be with Cas, that's my decision, not yours. End of story."
Dean could have shaken her. "Oh no, no no no—I am not letting you do that—"
She made a face like she was disgusted with him. "Do what Dean."
"Lemme tell you something, I sacrificed too much, gave too much to this family and to you to let you throw it all away now," Dean said, his voice almost trembling with the mounting emotion. He was starting to get desperate, unsure how she couldn't see why he was so mad. Why couldn't she see that he was scared for her? "Use your brain for two seconds!" he begged. "The dude is an angel! He is not the same species as us. He doesn't know how to be human. What, you think your immortal boyfriend is just gonna stick around when you get old and saggy? That the two of you just ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after like a normal little couple? Get your head out of the fucking clouds, Al!" She didn't respond to his pleas, only looked more and more exasperated. Dean's voice rose an octave in distress. "You saw the future, you saw your tombstone and you know he's the reason you end up that way—why the hell won't you listen to me?!" And unable to stop himself, Dean threw out another intentionally cruel comment in an effort to get her to react. "What, he kisses you a couple times and you think you're in love with him? Grow up, dude!" She didn't spit back an angry retort like he thought she would, in fact, her face fell. And Dean felt like the breath had been knocked out of him, like he'd been swallowed in shock as he realized why she'd reacted that way. "...You are, aren't you? You're in love with him." She said nothing, but her jaw worked oddly and Dean needed no further confirmation. He knew his sister's facial expressions well. "That is just the most fucked up—how could you be so—" He clenched his teeth and shut his mouth, holding back insults. Dammit, Alex. Dammit. He shut his eyes for a beat and took a deep breath in through his nose, trying to control himself. He couldn't believe how suddenly sad he felt, realizing that she really was in love with Cas. What a mess.
He felt himself getting emotional. If he could just get her to understand... "Look. I get it, Al, I—I do. Guardian angel shows up, saves the girl, takes a bullet for her, spews all this crap about protecting her forever… it's the setup to a damn romance novel. Except you are not in a book Alex, this is the real world and any future with this guy would destroy you." He was strained with desperation, hoping she would just listen to reason and come back to planet earth.
But she was in denial. "You don't know that for sure—that's just your excuse," she said, and there was no mistaking how angry and bitter she was at him. "You think I don't know why you're pulling this crap on me?" she asked accusingly. "You just don't want to see me happy."
"Screw happiness, I want you safe!" Dean exclaimed—the first response that had come to mind.
Alex's face fell, a single eyebrow moved up. She looked like she thought he was an idiot, like she couldn't believe the bullshit she was having to put up with. There was a glint of hurt, too. "Wow Dean. Okay. Yeah, thanks."
Again, she tried to go past him and Dean again didn't let her. "We are not done," he told her forcefully, and she jerked away, yelling "get off me," shocking him when she shoved him away hard.
"You get your head out of the clouds!" she shouted at him, and the expression on her face made Dean feel like she regarded him as an abomination. "You think I'm gonna stick around and be miserable with you the rest of my life?" she demanded, "that I'm just gonna stick around with you forever?" She jabbed a finger at the top of her head. "I have had it up to here with you and your self-righteous bullshit!"
"I'm trying to take care of you!"
Alex gave him a cold, malevolent look, hitting him right where it hurt. "Well you're doing a shit job, like always," she said, knowing exactly the effect it would have on Dean. He felt like he'd been slapped in the face. That was probably the most hurtful thing she'd ever said to him. Did she really think that? After all they had been through together, everything they had survived, everything he'd sacrificed for her? He literally felt his chest pang with betrayal.
"H-how can you say that?" He felt a shameful tightness in his throat, he could barely speak. "After everything I've ever done for you?"
She didn't seem to care one way or another that he was hurt. And he realized that he'd gotten it wrong. She said the most hurtful thing she'd ever said to him next when she shook her head, looking at him in almost hatred: "You're just like Dad."
Dean was cut to the quick. And at his silence, Alex's expression changed, becoming a little uncertain. She opened her mouth to say something—and then the sound of a muffled gun shot rang through the night. In unison, the siblings looked toward the church where it had come from, then took off at a run into the building.
They could hear people screaming and shouting as soon as they burst through the door, and Dean sprinted, leading the way toward the ruckus, Alex close behind. There was another gun shot as they burst into the fellowship hall, which was in complete chaos.
Sam struggled with Jane, who had a shotgun and was firing into the ceiling as she tried to break away from his grip—there was pounding and screaming coming from a locked door on the opposite side of the room—the pastor was shot in the chest and dead on the ground, the stake on the floor a few feet from him—a few of the townspeople were rushing Sam, trying to pull Jane away or maybe bash Sam's brains in, it was hard to tell—but the thing that Alex zeroed in on right away through all the confusion in the room was the sight of Cas, on the ground, groaning loudly and squirming in intense pain. Leah stood over him—her back to the door, leaving her unaware of Dean and Alex's arrival—her hand was raised, fingers outstretched toward Cas, she was chanting in a strange language... each strange word that fell from her mouth seemed to cause Cas more pain. Alex didn't even think. She just charged forward and barreled into the Whore like a linebacker, tackling her away from Cas, knocking the air out of her lungs and ending the incantation when she slammed Leah's body to the ground.
The Whore hadn't even finished hitting the ground before she was twisting her shoulders violently, throwing Alex off and to the side at surprising velocity with much greater strength than someone of Leah's size should have had. Half sliding, half flying across the floor on her side, Alex slammed into a table leg painfully with her upper back, knocking the table a few feet back from where it had been. And as she looked up briefly, she saw Cas, his face a twisted wreck of pain. He was looking at her. It was one of those slow-motion moments where all Alex could do was stare and hear her own heartbeat. And then she saw the stake, within her reach, sort of halfway between herself and Cas. Even as she heard the footsteps of the Whore coming toward her, Alex threw herself into a frenzied crawl, grabbing the stake and scrambling up to her feet as she held the stake up at shoulder level. She whirled and faced the Whore, standing between her and Cas.
She heard Castiel groaning "Alex, no," on the floor, even as Leah sauntered closer, giving the appearance of casual boredom. A chilling little smile darted across her face.
"Don't make me laugh—you think you could kill me? You're nothing." Alex didn't have time for small talk. She lunged forward, bringing the stake down, aiming it for the Whore's chest—but Leah's little hand shot out, stopping Alex's wrist in an iron grip before bending Alex's arm back painfully. Yelping, Alex did the only thing she could think of: head butting Leah hard and fast, sending the Whore stumbling with a look of pure, unadulterated rage on her face. Determined in the worst way, Alex moved forward again, stake gripped tightly, head pounding—and then Leah's hands raised up, the palms flat and facing Alex—and suddenly Alex was sent flying clear across the room and into the doorframe where she hit her head and dropped to the ground limply. The stake went skittering across the floor.
The entire thing had happened in the space of maybe ten or fifteen seconds—and Dean, who had rushed to Sam to tear two guys off him, saw his sister hit the doorframe and snapped. Instantly leaving Sam to hold a struggling Jane, Dean charged forward and lunged mindlessly at the Whore—who knocked him down without even touching him then leapt forward over Dean, closing her hands around his throat. Struggling and turning red as air became short in supply—she was a whole helluva lot stronger than she looked!—Dean's arm reached out, fingers searching for the stake, which he knew was somewhere to his right. He could hear Cas somewhere nearby groaning.
"Please," Leah said harshly as she saw Dean trying to reach the stake his sister had dropped. "First your sister and now you? Like you're a servant of Heaven!" She pushed harder against his windpipe, her voice menacing and vindictive. "This is why my team's gonna win. You're the great vessel? You're pathetic, self-hating, faithless. It's the end of the world. And you're just gonna sit back and watch it happen, you're gonna let them all die like you always do."
And that? That was the moment that Dean Winchester decided he was done. Done fighting, done being the man who let everyone including himself down. Done resisting day after day when he could do something that would change things. He was done standing by and seeing the future he'd seen in 2014 begin to unfold. Done believing that Sam could say no forever. Done trusting that Alex was smart enough to take care of herself. Done being a stupid, stubborn asshole. Done. And his fingers made contact with the stake. With all the brute force he could muster, Dean punched the Whore hard enough that she lost her grip on him.
And with a guttural shout, Dean staked her through the chest. Her face reverberated with shock. "Don't be so sure about that, bitch," he growled, then pushed her off himself hard. She flopped around on her back. As Dean stood up, her face distorted and her true form screamed through. The stake, still sticking out of her chest, caught fire—and the Whore screamed, her face jittering demonically. With a huge boom, the stake exploded, leaving a burning hole and a silent, shocked room.
Jane had stopped struggling in Sam's grip, her face registering horror. "What—who was that? That wasn't Leah?"
Dean looked at her with a glare, pulling at the collar of his shirt as if trying to get more air. "No. And the so-called angels you been taking orders from? Fake. All of it." He didn't bother hiding how pissed he was. "You've been duped, lady."
"But… I don't understand. How are we supposed to get to paradise now?"
Dean looked at the dead pastor and yet more self-loathing rolled in. If he hadn't been out there arguing with his sister, he could have prevented that from happening. Guilt shimmered through him, but he looked back at Jane, whose face was sickened as she realized how manipulated she'd been and the price two men had paid for it. "Sorry," Dean said cynically, shaking his head. "Pretty sure you're headed in a different direction."
"Dean, Sam…" Cas said on the floor, and both brothers looked quickly. The angel was propped up on his stomach, using one of his forearms as support as the other hand pressed to his stomach—he'd apparently dragged himself in the chaos to their sister, who was silent and unmoving, a collapsed heap on the floor—a trail of blood streaked out of her mouth on one of the sides. The angel looked up at them, and the fear on his face unmistakable. Sam rushed over and dropped to his knees, checking Alex's vitals, even as Dean stood shocked to stillness, because if she was dead…
"She's fine, just unconscious… hit her head, looks like." Sam's report made it possible for Dean to breathe again. He turned to Jane and looked at Rob, who had a black eye.
Dean jabbed a finger at the locked closet. "Let those people out, you hear me?" Rob nodded, setting to do so immediately. Dean looked at Jane with no shortage of disgust. "And next time you decide you're righteous, do me a favor and remember the two men who have tombstones because of you."
He turned and saw Sam gently picking up Alex. Dean looked down at Cas reluctantly. The angel was grimacing deeply. Of course Dean got stuck helping him out. He yanked Cas up roughly and slipped an arm around the angel, supporting him. Doubled over, Cas could barely walk, his stumbling feet not keeping up well as Dean began to walk them back the way they'd come.
Dean could feel the angel craning his neck to look backwards. "Is she…?" Cas asked woozily, barely able to even form a coherent thought, but still asking about Alex in a voice thick with worry.
"She's fine," Dean said gruffly, if only to shut him up. He glanced back and saw his unconscious sister's head slumping as Sam carried her.
"Dean, how the hell did you even do that?" Sam asked tensely as they hurried out of the church.
"Do what?"
Sam was short on patience. "Kill her."
"With the stake," Dean replied with automatic sarcasm, then purposefully ran Cas into the fence they were walking beside, muttering "oops" without even trying to sound apologetic.
"That's not what I meant," Sam said, frustrated as he followed Dean across the wet lawn.
"Long run of luck held out, I guess," Dean answered evasively, wishing Sam would just shut up already. But, of course, he didn't.
"Yeah, sure…" Sam replied dubiously. "Last I checked, she could only be killed by a servant of Heaven."
"Well, what do you want me to tell you?" Dean stared at Sam across the roof of the Impala. "I saw a shot and I went for it, now can we please get these two back to the motel?"
He yanked open the back door and dumped Cas in, slamming the door behind him. Sam looked at Dean in clear disapproval, shook his head, then hunkered down, opening the back door on his side of the car. Sam gently maneuvered his unconscious sister into the back of the car—and Cas reached out, helping as best he could.
In the driver's seat and starting the engine, Dean glanced into the rear view and once again almost had a stroke, seeing how Cas took Alex and held her up even though he was struggling himself. He heard Sam get into the car and close the door behind himself.
"Are you gonna do something stupid?" Sam demanded, to which Dean looked at him wrathfully.
"Like what?"
"Like Michael stupid."
"Come on, Sam. Give me a fuckin' break!" Dean all but shouted, hating the fact that his brother could see through him like that.
Sam seemed to snap, too. "Give you a break, Dean? If you hadn't picked a fight with Alex back there, Pastor Gideon might still be alive!"
"Well you shouldn't have gone in without me!"
Sam stared at Dean silently for a beat then looked away. "We saw a chance and went for it, okay?" He gave a fake little smile as he looked down into his lap. "And you know, funny thing is, with the way you've been lately, I sort of thought we might be better off taking her down without you."
Dean gave his brother a look that could kill. Sam knew exactly what he was doing when he said crap like that. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Sammy," he retorted sarcastically. "That's real great."
Sam glanced into the back, apparently done talking with Dean. "You okay, Cas?"
"I'll be fine…" he replied slowly. Dean glanced in the rearview and saw Cas holding Alex's unconscious form, both of his arms wrapped around her securely, his expression tense and worried. He refused to look away from Alex's face. Dean clenched the steering wheel tightly and the tires squealed as he slammed the gas pedal to the floor.
His brother was gonna be Lucifer's muppet and his sister was playing with fire and she apparently didn't care if she lived or died, so why should he care if he lived or died? The car flew through the dark night at illegal speeds.
"You're just like Dad."
Deep sadness flooded. He was though, wasn't he? Just like their father. Stubborn, obsessed, angry, addicted, broken, destructive. And more than that, Dean was every bit as useless and worthless as Dad had always made him feel. This—being used as the vessel of Heaven—was his chance to show everyone, including himself, that he wasn't going to be a damn fool like his father had been, focusing his entire life on something that destroyed them in the end. Dean was tired of fighting the angels. He wasn't about to let the dismal future he'd visited come true. He was stopping it all, he was finally going to go against all his deeply entrenched instincts and do the big-picture thing for once in his damn life.
And unbidden, Dean found himself remembering something that had happened to him a couple years back, during the year he'd been waiting to go to Hell to pay up on that soul deal. It had been a dream in which he was confronted by himself. He'd literally been standing in a room, facing another him:
"You don't even care if you live or die," the dream Dean had said. "Talk about low self-esteem, Dean. Then again, I guess it's not much of a life worth saving, now is it?"
"Wake up, Dean. Come on, wake up," he'd muttered to himself, not wanting to hear this, not wanting to face any of it. Nothing happened, and the image of himself before him kept talking in a condescending, judgmental tenor.
"I mean, after all, you've got nothing outside of your brother and sister. Your brother stays with you out of guilt. Your sister out of necessity. You are nothing, Dean. You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog."
"That—that's not true."
"No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car? That's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad's. Your music? Dad's." Each statement had driven the feeling of despair of my God he's right even deeper. "Do you even have an original thought?"
Dean had scoffed, trying to look unmoved as his adversary continued.
"No, you don't. No, all there is is, 'Keep Sammy out of trouble, watch out for Al! Look out for your little brother! Keep your sister safe, boy!' You can still hear your Dad's voice in your head, can't you? Clear as a bell."
"Just shut up," Dean told the dream, and his fingers curled around the shotgun he carried.
"I mean, think about it... all he ever do is train you, boss you around, mistreat Alex who you tried so hard to protect in your own mind but really… you weren't brave enough to do what was right for her. You weren't selfless enough to get her out of the hellhole you called home life. You fucking coward. You're nothing but a hammer." Dean paused, smirking. "Funny huh about Sam? Sam he doted on. Sam, he loved. Why didn't he ever treat you that way, huh? You did everything he asked and more." Dream Dean chuckled sardonically. "Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you?"
And his internal monologue had thrown him into a fit of rage. Dean snapped. "Son of a bitch!" he'd roared, then pushed himself hard, sending himself flying into the wall. "My father was an obsessed bastard!" He kicked himself down, pummeled himself and pinned himself to a wall using the shotgun. "All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam, about keeping Alex safe!? That was his crap! He's the one who couldn't protect his family, who couldn't live up to his own standards!" Dean hit himself across the face with the shotgun, enraged. "He's the one who let Mom die!" He shoved himself into the wall. "Who wasn't there for Sam or Alex! I always was! He wasn't fair!" His voice rose an octave in heartbroken despair. "I didn't deserve what he put on me! And I don't deserve to go to Hell!"
The sound of a shotgun blast echoed in Dean's mind and he felt his jaw clench involuntarily as he remembered shooting himself point-blank in the chest, watching the dream version of himself die. He didn't deserve any of what he'd been handed, none of it had been fair, but that didn't change a damn thing. He'd still been handed it, he'd still been shouldered with more responsibility and loss than most people could even handle hearing about, much less living through.
Just once, Dean wished he didn't have to be the one who had to make these soul-crushing, life or death decisions. But like he'd decided earlier, he was just done. He wasn't even sure if this were the right decision, to say yes to Michael. He just couldn't fight anymore, he was tired of putting off the inevitable. Maybe he should have known, all those months ago, that fighting the whole Michael-wants-your-body thing was a losing game. He should have realized that fighting it would only make it worse for the people he loved.
All he'd ever wanted was for his siblings to be happy and safe... but with him, close enough for him to keep an eye on them, watch out for them. He really had been Daddy's blunt little instrument, huh? He realized morosely that his entire life was built around those commands: Keep Sammy out of trouble, watch out for Al. Look out for your little brother; keep your sister safe, boy.
If he looked back over his thirty-one years, it became clear to him just how deeply ingrained those commands had become. Dean had forced Sam back into the life, he'd kept Alex in it and with him because there hadn't seemed to be any other option… but now Dean wondered if he should have somehow gotten her out of this life years ago, if he should have left Sam at college to be safe, happy, clueless. Maybe Jess would still be alive. Maybe Alex wouldn't be involved with an angel who was going to destroy her life. Maybe his baby sister, the one he'd taught how to count to ten and throw a punch and change a flat tire… maybe she wouldn't be about to lose one or both of her brothers to the apocalypse. You know, maybe he couldn't entirely blame her for the torch she carried for Cas. Maybe it was her way of coping with so much pain and loss and screwed up situation after screwed up situation. He'd done some crazy stuff to deal with the life, too.
Dean pulled the Impala up to the motel, glancing into the rear view again... and saw Cas gently touching Alex's face, wiping the blood away from her mouth with his thumb, his face a mask of concern.
In a fury, Dean got out of the car, yanking Cas's door open and grabbing Alex from him with a low growling mutter of, "give her to me."
And Dean marched inside without a backwards glance, taking his sister over to one of the beds and laying her down there. Her head flopped over to the side, face covered in long, dark strands of hair. His anger receded. And he softened into sadness, wishing he hadn't fought with her. He reached down quietly, smoothing her hair out of her face. "You are so, so stupid Alex," he told her softly, anguished and wondering if this was the last time he'd see her again. He tried to remember the time when she'd loved him and looked up to him and they'd been best friends. It seemed so long ago. So impossible to get back to.
He heard Sam coming in and turned slightly then tensed when he saw that Sam was helping a limping Cas in. Standing, Dean frowned. "I don't want him in here," Dean told his brother gruffly.
"He's hurt, Dean," Sam said, his whiny tone implying that Dean should feel bad about that.
"Good!" was Dean's reply as he stormed across the room. And surprising Sam and Cas both, Dean grabbed Cas by the lapels, ripping him out of Sam's supportive grip, slamming him up against the motel wall. "What the hell were you two doing out there tonight, huh? I saw you kissing my sister, you son of a bitch!"
"Dean, whoa!" Sam protested, grabbing Dean's shoulder.
Dean shoved Sam away hard and pointed a warning finger. "Back off Sam, I'm warning you." Sam just stood there and looked at Dean in shock. Dean jerked his head back to Cas. "What the hell do you have to say for yourself, huh?"
The angel was woozy, his head held unevenly, his eyelids heavy. He was frowning and grimacing. "You're... upset," he managed, to which Dean's grip tightened and he shoved him against the wall harder.
"You promised me you wouldn't do anything to risk her life Cas, you're damn right I'm upset!"
Face filled with confusion and pain and hesitance; Cas looked Dean in the eye. "I want her safe just as much as you do. Perhaps more, in fact. Please believe me." His expression became pleading. "I tried to keep this from happening—I've tried to keep my distance. "
"Well try harder!" Dean shouted.
"I'm sorry Dean," Cas replied, sounding genuine and unsure. "I don't know how to… I don't know how to not be with her."
Dean's blood went cold. "I should rip your damn wings out, Cas."
"That's literally not possible," Cas mumbled, sounding drunk again in his dazed state.
Even as he said that, Sam was back, putting one hand on Dean and one on Cas in an attempt to separate the two, successfully pushing his brother back a few steps. "Dean, stop, calm down!" Sam told him, holding out a hand as he stood between his brother and the angel.
"I can't calm down, Sam!" Dean exclaimed, voice rising in panic and emotion. "This is your sister's life on the line!"
"Dean, I'm going to find a way to change things," Cas said, struggling to speak through what was obviously a lot of pain. "Just like you're going to find a way to stop the apocalypse, I'll—"
"No, no—no!" Dean raged. "You wanna have your cake and eat it too? That is my sister you dick! She deserves a whole hell of a lot better than the likes of you!"
There was an intense, brief silence. And Cas looked down, voice low and filled with regret. "You're right. She does deserve better."
Cas turned and sat down—almost falling over—onto the bed he'd been standing beside. Sam steadied him by the shoulder as Dean stared at him murderously. The angel looked at him sadly. "After all we've been through, Dean all I've done is help you…"
"You call this help!?" Dean cut him off incredulously. "Don't try and guilt-trip me into being your friend, I don't owe you a damn thing!"
"I raised you out of Hell."
Dean glared. "Yeah, 'cause you were told to!"
Cas's passive, puppy-dog eye expression was fading into something more like anger. "I went against Heaven, I lost everything—"
Dean cut him off again. "Are you some kind of moron, Cas? I don't care what you lost, look at what you're doing! You're risking her life and you're a selfish bastard! If you cared about her at all you'd walk away right now!"
Cas looked conflicted as hell, his jaw going rigid and eyes going down, as if he were thinking something over very carefully. "I'm sorry Dean, I can't do that."
"Can't or won't?" Dean challenged with a rising voice.
Cas looked at him dead in the eye, and there was a lot of guilt in his gaze. "Both."
Dean shook his head slowly, barely able to see straight. "You son of a…"
Cas cut him off. "I left everything behind and was cast out of Heaven because I believed you were capable of changing the future. Can you extend the same trust to me?"
Sam, who was standing back and listening intently, looked at Dean cautiously.
Dean threw his arms wide. "I did trust you! And then I find out you're sneaking around behind my back, seducing my sister telling her God knows what! You're taking advantage of her! She's naive, she's practically a kid, Cas! How can you think any of this is okay?" Dean looked at Cas in disgust. "Look at you. I can see the wheels in your head turning, trying to rationalize what you're doing to her, to my family—" he stopped, then looked at Cas with almost a smile. "Well guess what, choir boy? I'm putting an end to it once and for all." And Dean gave him a final glare for good measure then stormed out of the motel, hearing Sam yell his name as he followed.
"Dean, stop!" Sam said, catching up to Dean on the motel sidewalk. Turning around slowly, Dean looked at his brother acidly. "Dean what the hell is going on with you?" Sam demanded angrily. "How could you say that stuff to Cas after everything he's done for us?"
"Don't act like you don't know why," Dean said coldly.
Sam's jaw tightened perceptibly. "Look, I get that you're upset but I've never seen you touch Alex like that before—I mean you scared her Dean."
"Well she should be scared!"
"What, of Cas? Or of you?" Sam asked, and his low voice began to raise in anger. "Last time I checked, he's the one who took a fucking bullet for her—Cas would never in a million years lay a finger on her in the wrong way!"
Dean looked at his brother in baleful disbelief. "You don't know that Sam!"
"Get your head out of your ass, Dean!" Sam shouted back.
Dean let out a heavy huff of air, wet his lips, then set his brother with a superior look. "So what, you're cool with this dude, this thousands and thousands of years old dude cozying up to your sister? The same sister who has never, Sam, ever, had a lasting relationship outside of you, me, Dad, and maybe Bobby? She falls in love with the first guy who comes along and makes moon eyes at her—and as our long string of shit luck would have it, the guy just so happens to be a creepy old special-ed angel! That's all okay with you?" Dean didn't give him a chance to reply, continuing to rant. "I mean why the hell am I the only one with enough brains to see that this is the worst idea ever? And as if the To Catch a Predator vibe wasn't enough, I've seen the frigging future where he's the reason she's dead and buried underground! Where them being together—together, Sam—gets her killed! You're cool with her waltzing into her own coffin? You wanna hand her some nails while you're at it, drive some in yourself, huh?"
Sam waited a second, his expression bitchy and cool. "I didn't think you believed in destiny Dean. I thought you said we could change things. Isn't that one of those things? What makes you so sure that she's as good as dead?" He raised his eyebrows, looked at Dean searchingly. "Is it really that you believe Cas gets her killed, or you just not wanting her happy?" Dean's face fell as Sam continued. "Because she really likes him, Dean. And he really, really cares about her."
Dean shook his head, let down as hell. "I can't believe you, Sam."
"And I can't believe you, Dean. You're acting crazy about this!"
"Sam, our baby sister doesn't have a Heaven and is messing around with the guy who gets her killed in the future, a guy who is kissing up on her in a body that's not even his, a guy who will outlive her by a million years—no exaggeration! Of course I'm gonna act crazy, why the hell aren't you!?" Dean's righteous anger faded into a cynical, little smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I guess I forgot. All the times you abandoned this family because you were too selfish to accept your responsibilities, too self-interested to give a crap either way what happened to her or me. Same thing now, huh."
Sam made a face like he didn't even get why Dean would say that. "That's not fair, Dean. I have always cared about what happened to you, both of you!"
Dean was cold now, unaffected. "Nah. I don't believe you Sam, 'cause actions speak louder than words, and I can guarantee one thing about you. You always give up, you always walk away."
"Oh, and that's not what you're doing right now?"
"What are you talking about, huh Sammy?"
"Dean, I'm not the idiot that you think I am. You think I haven't noticed how depressed you are? How off you've been? You think I don't know why?"
Dean tilted his head to the side, making a mock-concerned face. "What, you wanna have some girl time Sam? Talk about all my bad feelings and sad thoughts?"
Sam's nostrils flared, a muscle jerked in his jaw, he shook his head as his mouth worked oddly. "You know, you are making it really hard for me right now."
"To do what, Sam?"
"To hold it together, to have faith in you!"
Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh cry me a river, Sammy."
"I am trying Dean, trying really hard to do this," Sam told him angrily. "But I can't do it if you're gonna keep being such a dick."
"Well you'll be relieved then," Dean told him with another facetious little smile. "'Cause you don't have to do it anymore."
Sam swallowed and his face fell. "Don't do this Dean."
"Lemme tell you something. I am not the bad guy here Sam, and I don't get why the hell you and Alex think I am. All I've ever done was look out for you two. I gave you everything! And it never was enough, was it?" Dean shrugged and threw his hands up. "Well I'm done. I am done being the guy you stick around with 'cause you feel sorry for me. I am done giving and giving and giving and getting nothing but shit in return. I am gonna change the future, I am gonna stop being a stupid, stubborn asshole and let those angelic bastards upstairs have their way with me."
Sam's eyebrows slammed together. "You can't be serious."
"Oh, I am."
"After all the time we've spent fighting this, Dean?!" Sam became intense, drawing himself up to his full height. "No, I won't let you give up."
Dean smirked to himself. "I'm sorry, Sam." And he was. "But it's too late for all that."
And before Sam could react, Dean drew back and socked him in the face hard enough to send Sam stumbling back, stunned and falling to the ground. And while Sam floundered, Dean jumped into the Impala, started it up, then backed up fast—and Sam slammed onto the hood, shouting Dean's name even as he cut the wheel—and his little brother went flying sideways into the parking lot as Dean slammed the car into drive and squealed tires out of there.
Wavering to his feet, Sam shouted uselessly. "Damn it! Dean! DEAN!" he stood there in shock, watching the Impala disappear around the bend in the road. Sam wiped at his nose with the back of his hand. Bright red blood came away. And as Sam looked back at the road that Dean had raced down a second ago, he suddenly felt lost.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?!
Inside the motel, Cas had edged himself along the bed he'd sat on, had then lurched across the space between it and the bed Alex was on, desperate to reach her. He'd barely kept from falling, catching himself with the palms of his hands on the mattress near her feet. He'd let himself collapse forward on his stomach, then dragged himself up alongside of her, trying to make sure she was all right, groaning from the effort of moving. He was in so much pain from the incantation the Whore had cast over him, weakened immensely.
But his pain was nothing to him, he was only frustrated at how incapable of movement he was, how he had been unable to stop the Whore from hurting Alex. He watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. A small reassurance that she was all right. And everything Dean had said to him raced through his mind, inspiring vast amounts of guilt and internal pain. He looked down at her. He was clumsily arranged on his side, and one of his hands rested on the arm at her side closest to him. His fingers tightened slightly, as if he thought she might slip from his grasp. He knew she wouldn't, but still. He didn't want to let go.