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.

56. Truth Be Told

Song Remains the Same

Chapter 56 / Truth Be Told

"Nobody said it would be easy. Nobody said it would be this hard.
Oh take me back to the start…"
- Coldplay

---

Dean had spent more nights just like this than most people ever would: wide awake and listening to the harrowing rhythm of a hospital heart-rate monitor as he worried if his brother or sister or father or friend was gonna pull through. Today, it was Alex's steady heart rate he was hearing translated to that familiar pulse of beep, beep, beep.

The oldest Winchester sat in a flimsy chair next to his sister's hospital bed where he'd been stationed for going on three hours now. He had his arm resting on the bed, his hand over hers. He wasn't gonna let go until she came back.

Dean was exhausted mentally and physically as usual, but it was all made worse from the vampire crap and the cure bullshit. Those two things left him feeling like he'd been hit by a semi truck, run over by a steam roller, scraped up with a spatula, and then shoved into a blender. The entire hellish night was a horrible, effed up blur. He remembered getting here to the hospital and racing two unconscious chicks into the emergency room with Samuel as Sam had parked the van, but after that… all he remembered was that the doctors said Alex was unconscious for no discernible reason and they had basically said she must be a narcoleptic. He recalled yelling at the doctors for being certifiable dickbag morons when they'd arrived at that ludicrous, unfounded conclusion. That had been the brief moment when he'd almost been kicked out for unruly behavior, but Samuel had pacified the situation somehow. And now Dean was resigned to wait. Alex's condition was apparently stable enough that the doctors weren't worried. But that didn't keep Dean from worrying.

He paused, looking up and over across the hall—he could see through the open doors into Jamie's room. She was still and drained of all color. The doctors said it looked like she'd had a massive stroke. She was currently in a deep coma—but it wasn't a normal coma. She was at fatal levels of feverish and her brain activity was off the charts. They'd 'never seen anything like it.' Dean heard that phrase so damn often in his line of work and he was tired of it. He turned his attention back to his sister, squeezing her hand again, studying her still face for a few seconds. Mumbling a vague threat like he always did when they were younger and she didn't wanna wake up. "Hey, wake up, Al." Beep, beep, beep. "Hey." He paused. "I'm gonna steal all your clean socks if you don't get up." Beep, beep, beep. No response. No suddenly waking up and pushing Dean away and valiantly defending her socks.

If Dean had been a praying man, he would be on his knees. The thought crossed his mind to call Cas for help, but stubborn, bitter pride kept him from trying. It wasn't dire yet. And last time Alex had a problem Cas had stepped in. Dean could handle this one. He hoped.

Where the hell was Sam? Dean realized it had been more than thirty minutes since his gigantic brother had shown his face. He should be here, in this room, with his family. Dean guessed that his brother was probably out in the car listening to the police scanner or reading a newspaper in the hunt for a new case, which made Dean want to hit something. This wasn't right. Sam wasn't right. He was pissing Dean off all the time and making him more and more uncomfortable. He tightened his jaw and heard his teeth groan in protest. Even when the twins had been at odds, even when they'd downright hated each other, they'd had each others backs and had never been as apathetic toward each other as Sam was being toward Alex. It was like he just couldn't be bothered with worrying about his own flesh and blood. Dean had a pretty awful theory that if Alex died... Sam wouldn't even bat an eye.

Well. At the very least Dean wasn't a blood-sucking Twilight wannabe anymore, right? Samuel's insane cure had worked and he was a human again. And so was Alex—Dean had checked her gums several times now, verifying that there were no traces of telltale vamp chompers. They would be resting, mostly hidden, above the canines. He checked her again, just to be triple, quadruple sure she really was magically healed—by leaning in and grabbing her top lip and pulling up, peering. Normal, human gums. Man, he owed Jamie a million apologies, huh? He felt really bad. And like he'd really misjudged.

Alex stirred abruptly under his touch. Shocked and hopeful at the sudden movement and her slowly opening eyes, a disbelieving grin spread across Dean's face as he remained frozen in place. "Hey, hey!" he exclaimed breathlessly. "You're back!"

Groggy and a little disoriented… also grumpy… Alex squinted. "Why were you touching my lip, weirdo?" Her voice was rough, like she'd shouted herself hoarse, and she was looking at him like she used to as a teenager when she'd wanted five more minutes of sleep.

"There she is," Dean said, chuckling through the affectionate, relieved statement. She was okay—she was herself, she was human, and she was calling him a weirdo. "Feel all right?" he asked anxiously, studying her carefully and trying to see how she was.

She made a soft little protesting groan as she sat up slowly. "Well… I don't wanna bite anybody, so…" she trailed off, pulling a very thoughtful face like she were wondering if she were crazy or not. "All that vampire stuff… that wasn't a crazy alcohol or drug induced hallucination?" She seemed incredibly coherent which was another relief.

"All real."

Alex took a couple seconds to process. Her eyes darted back and forth over the bedding that laid over her knees as she visibly ran through the night in her mind. "Wow. Okay… wait." She clearly got to recalling the part where Dean had been sick as fuck. "Are you all right?" she asked, looking up at him with widened eyes. "Last thing I remember you were puking your vampire guts out all over the place."

That was sweet. Her, worrying over him. Chuckling and a little rueful—puking everywhere was never a great moment you wanted people to remember—Dean focused on the more appealing fact: "Yeah, well, the cure worked—I'm a hundred percent human again, and so are you."

Alex shut her eyes and let a relieved breath out as her shoulders slackened. And then she paused, opening her eyes. "Wait. Where's Jamie?"

Dean looked down, deflating slightly. He let his eyes do the talking and looked across the hall silently. Alex sat up a little straighter when she followed his gaze and saw Jamie in the bed across the way. "...What's wrong with her? Why's she passed out?" There was a lot of obvious concern there in his sister's voice, which only made Dean feel worse.

"She's... in some kinda coma." Horrified, Alex quickly looked at him for an explanation, now. "Collapsed when she did that witchy mumbo jumbo on you." When she saved your life. Guiltily, Dean tried to be optimistic. "Hey, maybe she wakes up soon, too. Like you just did." He hoped he was right. But he wasn't gonna bank on it. Jamie looked like death and her prospects didn't seem optimistic. It killed him, because witch or not, she'd saved Alex and royally screwed herself up in the process. What was he supposed to do with that? He'd treated Jamie like shit and demeaned her for being a witch… the very thing he now was thanking his lucky stars for. If not for her... Alex would still be fanged up. A walking death-sentence.

"I knew I shouldn't have let her do that," Alex muttered, bowing her head into her hand regretfully, seeming to blame herself. "She always gets messed up doing that shit..."

Dean said nothing about it, because honestly, selfishly, he was just so glad Alex was okay he could cry. Yeah, it sucked real bad that Jamie wasn't on two legs, but… a few hours ago, he thought his sister would have to die because she was a monster. Now she was herself again and so was he, and they had another shot at this crazy thing called life. Still, it had come with a cost.

"They think she'll pull through?" Alex asked in worry, staring tensely across the hall again.

Dean looked sidelong over his shoulder, lacing his fingers together as he leaned his elbows over his knees. "They got no idea." He was left to think about of the trail of dead friends and acquaintances he and his family had left behind in their wake. Would Jamie's name be added to the list?

Maybe Alex was wondering the same thing. Perturbed, she tightened her jaw and shook her head. "Why would she do that? Dammit, Jamie." Alex angrily ripped off the heart rate clamp on her finger and swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing up. Dean followed suit, a little shocked at how fine she seemed to be.

"Hey, hey take it easy wouldya? You just got topside," he protested.

Alex batted him away, insisting she was fine, where were her damn shoes.

"Hey, you're up!" came a familiar voice. Alex and Dean stopped. Sam stood there, filling the doorway to the room. There was a pleasant little smile plastered on his face. Alex faltered in confusion at her brother's appearance—then her eyes widened briefly as if in realization or fear—and she went stone-faced. Sam caught it all and his face took on an inquisitive look. "...What?"

"Uh, nothing," Alex said, feigning nonchalance and covering over her other emotion. Weird… Dean's eyes narrowed just a little, because he could hear that something was wrong and she was covering. "Just, uh, surprised to see you." Sam dropped it, accepting Alex's answer even as Dean made a mental note to ask her about the little exchange later.

Newspaper in hand, their brother came over, tapping a page eagerly. "Okay. Look what just read. A few towns over from here. A string of freaky suicides and a couple weirdass murders." He paused and Dean stood back slightly, giving Sam a you gotta be kidding stare. "Sounds like it could be our kinda thing," Sam said, not seeming to notice or care about Dean's reaction.

"A job Sam?" Dean repeated incredulously. "Right now you come in here and pitch a job? ...Anything about your sense of timing strike you as a little off?"

Sam's face took on a note of perplexed innocence, like Dean was the one being strange. "People are dying. Isn't it our job to keep them safe?" He paused and sized up their sister. Besides not having her shoes on, she looked her normal self. "Alex looks good to go, so what's the holdup?" He became almost vaguely amused. "What, you two just gonna sit around and babysit the vegetable across the hall?"

Dean was offended by his brother's seeming apathy. "Have a damn heart, Sam!" he exclaimed. "Not everything's about the job!"

"Right," Sam returned, as if he were trying to take back what he'd said. Suddenly, he was overly empathetic. "Right, of course not. I'm worried too. Of course I'm worried."

Dean stared at his brother with a dead sort of expression. He was mad, he was over it, and he wasn't gonna let it slide this time. He grabbed the crook of Sam's arm. "You know what… walk with me." He pointed a stern finger back at Alex, who was opening her mouth to protest. "Stay here."

Dean guided Sam roughly out of the room and into the hallway. As soon as they were out of earshot, Dean shoved his brother away. "The hell is your problem, Sam?"

"I don't have a problem." Sam was cool and non-confrontational, which only incensed Dean more. He shook the newspaper for emphasis. "Dean, this is what we do. Save people."

Dean gestured angrily in the vague direction of Jamie's room. "Yeah, like her." Confusion flashed across Sam's face. Did he really not get it? "We owe her, Sam! She put her ass on the line and saved Alex's life when she didn't have to!"

Sam's features worked weirdly, like he was attempting to act sympathetic. "Yeah. Yeah, I get that. And uh, if she ever pulls through, great." He looked at Dean pointedly. "But even you have to admit: unless you know some magical way to bring a person out of a coma, we're pretty useless here, Dean. We're not doctors. We're hunters."

Out to prove a petty point, Dean made a face. "You know what, I do know a magical way." He crossed his arms and looked upward grumpily. "Cas—Castiel. You got your ears on? Need your help with waking up a sleeping beauty named Jamie Ward, buddy." The brothers scanned around for the familiar tan trench coat. No angel appeared. Sam raised his eyebrows challengingly at Dean, who cleared his throat, gave a tight little this will work smile and then spoke a little louder. "You ten-four, Cas? Need ya down here, man, like… now." Dean looked around expectantly, getting more and more annoyed when there was no response. Sam gave Dean a little told you so smile and Dean raised his voice even more. "Cas! Don't be a dick!" He waited... and again... nothing. Disgruntled, Dean glared around at nothing in general. "Just freakin' great."

"Hey, no one can say you didn't try," Sam said patronizingly. His focus seemed pinpointed on one single thing in the entire universe: "Now. Are we gonna go check out this lead, or are we gonna sit around and act like people out there don't need our help?"

Dean glared, because Sam was sort of right but… come on, this wasn't how Sam would act! He might have a point, Dean had to admit. If people really were in trouble over in Illinois they should go help. But just ditching out on Jamie? He owed her a little more than that. Down the hall a familiar, bald man appeared and Dean went silent and schooled his expression into something more neutral. He wasn't into airing the family dirty laundry to anyone but family. Grandpa didn't count. He might have been blood, but they didn't know him.

"Problem, fellas?" Samuel asked as he reached them. He had a little cup of coffee from the hospital cafeteria in hand.

Dean regarded his grandfather with thinly veiled mistrust. "No. No problem."

Samuel nodded thoughtfully, clearly not convinced with that forever constant knowing glint in his eyes.

"Samuel, you wanna do me a solid and stay a few days, see if Jamie gets her groove back?" Sam asked to Dean's surprise. He was gonna just hijack the job from Dean like that? "We gotta go catch a lead."

Oh do we? Dean asked Sam silently. In reply, he got the ghost of a Sam bitch-face from times past, as if Sam were saying of course we do, moron.

"Already?" Samuel asked. Even he seemed taken aback at Sam's assertion, which made Dean feel marginally validated.

Sam appeared mystified as to why he was meeting resistance and gave his grandfather and brother two pointed looks, like they were the strange ones. "Yeah already. Alex is up, there's stuff going down barely over an hour's drive from here..." he trailed off, shrugging in the face of Samuel's confusion and doubtfulness. "Hey, that's just the life for ya," he said. "We don't get to decide when the jobs happen." He looked at Samuel expectantly. "Now you gonna stick around with Blondie or what?"

Samuel took it into grudging consideration, glancing toward the hospital room where Jamie was then back at the boys. "Yeah, sure. Guess I can spare a couple days."

"Great. Thanks," Sam said with no measure of gratefulness in his voice at all. He seemed annoyed and hurried. "I'm gonna go back to the motel room and get our stuff, Dean." He brushed past his brother. "I'll be back for you two in twenty."

Dean watched his brother leave and there was a bad taste in his mouth. "He always like that?" he asked Samuel sullenly.

"Never met anyone as dedicated to hunting, that's for sure." Odd enough, Samuel also seemed unsettled by Sam's behavior.

It made no sense to Dean. Dean who watched Sam run away happily from life on the road in favor of higher education. Dean who had to drag his brother kicking and screaming back into hunting. Now it was just Sam's favorite thing? "He used to hate this job," Dean muttered. "He used to friggin' hate it."

"People change," Samuel put in artlessly.

Dean was too tired to argue with anyone except maybe Sam. "Guess they do." He looked toward Jamie's room and shook his head, deeply bothered by this turn of events. "Any ideas as to why's my sister okay and she's not?" They'd both lost consciousness at the exact same moment, so why hadn't they woken up at the same moment?

Samuel took a long moment, like he was trying to decide something. Then he leveled Dean with a careful gaze. "Son… last night while you and your sister were at the vampire nest, she told me that spell she did would probably kill her outright."

Dean's stomach flipped sickeningly as his mouth dropped. "What?!" he exclaimed, dismayed and floored. "...You mean to tell me she knew this was gonna happen?" He got abruptly pissed. "And you didn't mention this to me why?"

Samuel laid an authoritative hand on Dean's shoulder and was calm, firm, and gentle. "She made her choice, Dean. It was hers to make. And anyway… she's not dead yet." He said that like maybe there was still hope, then removed his hand from Dean's stiff shoulder and jerked his head toward Alex's room. "You kids get ready to hit the road. I'll let you know what happens here."

And without another word he turned and left Dean there, completely blindsided.

---

Calumet City, Illinois
The Next Day

"I dunno, maybe this is just an extremely twisted town, Sam," she said as they entered the motel room. Alex tossed her car keys down onto the kitchen counter as she walked past. Behind, her twin lumbered in and shut the door as she tiredly rubbed her forehead. He had a few newspapers in hand. "Maybe these deaths are just what they look like," the youngest Winchester continued. "Suicides and screwy murders." She folded her arms and turned around to look at Sam plainly.

They were both still in their FBI getup—Sam in a predictable suit and tie, Alex in her tried-and-true black pantsuit. Outside, still in the Impala on his phone, Dean was also in uniform. They'd just been to the home of one Jane Peterson, a young woman who had recently died by suicide during a busy shift at her restaurant job. Normally, suicide wasn't something the Winchesters investigated. But when a town suddenly had a burst of violent, unforeseen suicides and weird murders (construction worker jack-hammering his wife to death then hanging himself, old lady killing another old lady in a beauty parlor by stabbing her to death with a metal hair pick), and all within two weeks, it raised some suspicions that there were supernatural forces at work. But they'd just been to speak with Olivia, Jane's older sister, and found nothing conclusive at the home the sisters had shared. Nothing else was adding up yet either, and Alex wasn't as certain as Sam was that there was actually a job here.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Sam said, taking a seat at the kitchenette table and spreading his newspapers down in front of himself. He was exhausting Alex: He just didn't stop and was of one mindset: the job, the job, the job. "Olivia basically goaded her sister into suicide and isn't sure how it happened," Sam lectured, like Alex hadn't been right in the room when they'd discovered it. "Like she was possessed, or was under some kind of curse."

"Yeah... maybe..." Alex muttered, arms still folded as she approached the table by a couple steps, "or she could have been lying. I mean, who would want to take the blame for making their sibling feel bad enough to end their own life? Just admit there's a good chance she was trying to cover her own ass." She paused, watching Sam sorting through the three papers he'd bought—one local, two national. "There was nothing witchy at the house, no EMF, no demon-dust… we checked the restaurant, too. This could just be people." She paused, giving Sam a meaningful look. "People do horrible shit to each other."

He glanced up at her briefly and she couldn't see any discernible emotion. "I'll give you that," he said obligingly, "but taking into consideration the other freaky murders and the other suicides, I still think there's something here. I can feel it."

"Ooh, can you, Master Yoda?" Alex wisecracked. Sam gave her an appraising look across the top of the paper he was poring over. Yet again, she was left feeling disillusioned and even more afraid that her growing suspicions were true.

For the past twenty-four hours, there had literally been no chance for her to tell Dean what she'd remembered when she woke up in the hospital. It had rushed back into her mind with startling clarity and horrifying detail and Alex hoped she wasn't remembering it right, because if it were real… she wasn't in the room right now with her brother. She was in the room with someone else, maybe something else. It replayed again in her mind's eye: Sam standing there and letting that vampire turn her. He'd had the strangest look on his face, almost the beginnings of a smile as she'd been force-fed vampire blood. Alex had been stealing glances at her twin for the past twenty-four hours now, trying to figure out if what she'd seen was real. Figure out if that was Sam at all there with her. Her guard was doubled and she was no longer relaxed with her twin. Aware of where her weapons were at all time, she was focused on one thing: keeping Dean and herself safe. But she loved Sam and was desperate for this to be him in front of her, just with a bad case of Hell PTSD. However, she wasn't sure if that's what it was. And she wasn't sure if she could let herself and her other brother stay around him if he wasn't gonna have their backs.

She glanced toward the door. She could see Dean now through the window. He was standing just on the other side of it on the sidewalk with his phone to his ear and was keeping an eye on her through the slatted blinds even as he had what appeared to be a pretty intense conversation. He didn't even know what she knew yet and still he was on edge about Sam too. Maybe he could sense it. Alex looked at Sam again, who seemed to have zero clue that she was watching him differently now. She walked a little closer to him as she took off her suit jacket, then stopped completely when she glimpsed the newspaper date—May the fourth. Her stomach dropped in shock at the realization: their birthday had been two days ago. It had slipped her mind completely. She couldn't believe she forgot, then she realized she couldn't believe her brothers had both forgotten too. She looked at her twin intently, seeing an opportunity to test the waters. She sat down across from him, studying his expression and hiding her disturbed state of mind. "Hey, is it really May fourth?" she asked, feigning casual surprise. "Did we forget our birthday?"

He glanced at the newspaper date. "Huh. Guess we did," he said, and he had no reaction to it. Just replied to her and kept reading, his expression pinched with focus. She felt a little stung by his blasé reply, that and her suspicions only got deeper and deeper. That feeling of foreboding only got worse and worse. She sat back a little as a horrible feeling of finality and sadness settled over her. Dean had forgotten their birthday for the first time ever and Sam didn't apparently care. You need to tell Dean about what you saw.

Alex felt shellshocked. Not just right now, in general. Everything was a blur since what had happened with Glen. Cas reappearing, the demon blood shit hitting the fan. The panic room. Scotland. The vampire crap. It was too much. Her reality was all building up onto her shoulders and there was this feeling of inescapable grief. She swallowed, telling herself to get a grip. But every direction she turned, she was up against walls that were slowly closing in on her. How could she get a grip? There was nothing to hold onto anymore. That thought made her fight even harder to push away all the noisy worries, doubts, and fears that made it hard to sleep at night. She wanted to be strong. She had to be strong. In some ways, with Dean being withdrawn and quieter than usual and Sam being whatever the hell Sam was being, Alex felt like she had to be what Dean had always been: the anchor, the encourager, the one who held the family together. There was an awful loneliness to her life that she'd never felt before, and she wasn't sure if it was because of Castiel's absence or because of how she was refusing to be honest about her emotional wreckage.

Dean came in at that moment, ending his phone call as he did. "That was Samuel," he said, tossing his phone onto the table and yanking his suit jacket off. His expression was bothered. "He said Jamie just… disappeared thirty minutes ago."

Alex stood up so fast that her chair almost fell over. "What?"

He jammed a hand through his hair then threw his hands up in a defeated, mystified shrug. "Yeah. I dunno. Said he left for five minutes to get some grub from the caf, then when he got back… no James."

Speechless for a couple seconds, Alex tried to figure out if Dean were joking or what—but he just looked disturbed and worried. "What, like she just… woke up and walked out?" she asked, because that sounded unlikely.

"Yeah, I guess," Dean said, appearing just as uneasy about the idea as her. "He said no signs of anything weird. Just… empty bed."

How the hell…? That didn't sound right.

"Hey, all's well that ends well," Sam put in, getting two crazy looks from either of his siblings. "What? She's awake, right? That's good news."

He was pointedly ignored by his two angry siblings. "Well should we go try and find her?" Alex asked, because she genuinely wasn't sure what course of action should be taken, if any. Because if Jamie had really walked out and didn't want to be found, trying to find her would be pointless.

Dean seemed to be considering the idea. "Samuel said he's gonna see what he can see. I dunno."

"If she's out there, he'll find her," Sam said in dismissal, then glanced up at Dean. "You guys wanna help me out with skimming these papers?"

Maybe it was petty of Alex, but she was sick of Sam and his belligerent apathy. Deciding to get rid of him, she fixed him with a cool little smile. "Sam, how about you go take a listen to the police scanner in my car while you do that? See if you hear anything worth following up on." She snatched up one of the newspapers and shook it for emphasis, barely concealing how pissed she was. "I'll read this one."

Sam was agreeable and got up. "Yeah, good idea." He exited, and the second he did, Alex turned to look at her oldest brother and roll her eyes about Sam. She looked at the newspaper she held with mild contempt before she smacked it down onto the table. She had zero intention of actually reading it.

"Trust me, I wanna punch him in the face too," Dean said as she plopped down to sit on the corner of one of the beds. She looked up at her brother grudgingly as he grabbed two beers out of the fridge and popped the little metal caps off using the counter and a blow from his palm. "He's getting on my last damn nerve here lately," Dean said, taking a swig from one of the bottles before offering her the other one. She took it, even though she didn't really want it. Dean pulled at his tie to loosen it as he sat opposite of her on the other bed. He looked and sounded exactly what he confessed next: "I'm fucking exhausted." He got his tie loose enough to take off then threw it toward where he'd slung his jacket. Even though he appeared normal enough, Alex could sense all over again that Dean was depressed and just as lost as she was right now. She wished she knew how to cheer him up.

"Any luck getting Lisa yet?" she asked as he kicked off his dress shoes. He'd been trying to call Lisa all yesterday and some of today, too.

He glanced her way, fumbling a little. "Uh, no. She won't answer." He became a shade more regretful, sighing and stewing for a minute, "I messed up bad, Al. Shouldn't have gone there."

He'd told them briefly what had happened when he went to Lisa's as a vampire. So Alex tried to sympathize. "You just wanted to say goodbye to the person you care about. Nothing wrong with that."

He scoffed at the latter part of the statement and she could see that he was thinking something along the lines of 'there was a whole helluva lot wrong with it.' But he didn't say anything. And oddly enough, it made her sad that he didn't argue with her. It was obvious he was worried about everything in his life right now, especially her—and that made Alex feel bad. When they'd been growing up, Alex had believed that her oldest brother was a superhero, capable of taking on the whole world. Now, she knew he was just a man. A man who carried loads too big for anyone to carry. And still, somehow, he carried them. She took a pull of her beer, not really enjoying the taste.

Dean chanced an attentively worried glance at her. "So what about you? Did you, uh… did you call Cas up to say your piece?" he asked. "Back when we were… you know, bloodsuckers."

The mention of him made her immediately less certain of herself and uncomfortable because the focus had been shifted onto her. She replied fast, tried to make it look like she wasn't ruffled by the question. "Nope," she said, looking at the ground. Bravely, she looked him in the eye, trying to look confident. "You know me." She shrugged, took another sip of beer, and tried to look unaffected. "I don't like goodbyes."

Dean studied her closer for cracks in the armor. "Right," he momentarily said, still not seeming to entirely believe the front she was putting up. He was right, but she didn't want him to know that, so she gave a tight little smile and tried not to think about how loud the silence rang in her ears. Her brother studied the label of the beer he was resting on top of his knee. "You know, uh… I wasn't gonna leave without saying goodbye to you," he said abruptly, not bothering to hide how guilty he felt about it. "I really wasn't. Then I just panicked."

"It's okay, Dean." He'd already apologized about the same thing at the vampire nest, then yesterday, and now again. He didn't seem to agree that it was okay and didn't seem to accept her forgiveness. He just kept looking at her with that sad, tense expression and Alex softened. "Stop."

Mild confusion passed over his features. "Stop what?"

"Looking at me with those pity eyes."

He tried to protest and act like he wasn't doing what she said he was. "These are just my regular eyes."

She smiled at him and she didn't have to force it. It was time for him to stop worrying about her and it was time for her to stop letting him. From here on out, she was going to just suck it up and be strong and independent. He just had to get used to the idea. "Dean…" she was gentle but firm. "You've been waiting all week for me to break down." She paused for emphasis. "It's not gonna happen, I'm good." Her smile softened a little into a fond, solicitous expression. "Just relax. Be normal."

"I am being normal!" he protested a little defensively, looking at her mistrustfully. "You told me you weren't okay, remember?"

Her tearful confession in the vamp nest crossed her mind. I'm not okay, she had told him. "Yeah, I remember," she said, then attempted to discredit the very real confession she'd made. "I remember that I was a vampire with a death sentence over my head. Life seemed pretty hopeless at the time and, heh, I didn't feel very good about the future, you know?" She downplayed like it was her job, and for a second, she could almost believe herself. Almost. "But I got a new lease on life now, so…" she shrugged, trying not to think of the things that bothered her. Instead she turned the spotlight back to Dean. "And don't try and change the subject. You're not being normal. You're being way too nice and way too quiet."

"I'm being 'too nice'?" he repeated in confusion. "I'm always nice!"

Now that was laughable. Cute, even, and she cracked a grin, because she knew this guy better than almost anyone else, apparently even himself. "No... you're mean," she corrected. "Like a grumpy old man. What happened to all the bitching and moaning?"

Dean gave her a crazy look, like he was thinking about laughing at her question. "So lemme get this straight: You're complaining that I'm not complaining."

Alex saw an opportunity to make her brother laugh and pounced, taking on a playful tone. "Best part of my day is hearing you whining about how I'm taking too long in the bathroom." Dean looked down, a rueful little smile playing on his lips, and Alex started ribbing him with things he had actually said in the past (mostly). She put on a funny high-pitched nerdy voice. "'Who decided soy milk should even be a thing? When did gum get so fancy? Where did that friggin' idiot learn how to drive, Florida?'" Alex kept on, getting more animated. "'Turn that racket down—if it's not from the eighties it's not music! And if it's got too many vegetables in it, it's not real food! I'm Dean Winchester and I'm gonna go angry-fix my car!'" Dean was fighting a grin now and had a hand over half his face. "'I have the blood-pressure of a hummingbird on crack! I hate sunshine and don't know how to text!" By the last sentence, they were both basically giggling, and Dean especially seemed to have needed it. For a minute, neither of them remembered their dire situations or the things weighing on them.

"Hey, texting's dumb and I stand by that conviction," Dean said in mock-seriousness, then pulled a face. "I mean if you have something to say, just call the person, is that really so damn hard?" Alex shrugged helplessly, enjoying the lighthearted moment that reminded her of times that currently felt lost. Their eyes caught the others and their smiles faded a little, Dean's pensive mood seemed to bleed through again and he cleared his throat, forcing the smile off his face completely. Like he was guilty about allowing himself any cheer at all. "Yeah. I'm… it's been a rough couple weeks all around," he said gruffly, then looked at her with those sad eyes again. His voice softened, betraying how worried he was about everything. "I just want you to be okay. Almost lost you."

Well, she'd tried. But maybe ducking the issue wasn't the answer. "I know." She nodded slowly, knowing what he was thinking about. The demon blood, the assault. Everything. She redirected the conversation to him again, because those things had to stay hers. She couldn't add those to his burden. "I just want you to be okay," she told him seriously. His gaze ducked away.

Alex was a little discouraged. She knew that feeling all too well. The doubt that anything would ever be all right ever again. It was bad enough that she felt that way. He shouldn't feel that way too. At least Sam-the-robot wasn't wallowing with them, huh? She glanced at the window where she could see just a sliver of the side of her twin brother's face. He was sitting in her car, listening intently to the police scanner. At the very sight of him, her stomach turned. She knew all over again that she hadn't imagined him standing by and letting her get turned into a vampire. And Dean had to know what they were up against here. What had happened. She looked at her brother with a hardening expression. "All right, so…" she trailed off. How did you even say this? That your brother had something really wrong with him and was a danger to the family? Dean heard the anxiety hiding in her voice and looked at her with narrowed eyes and growing interest, like he could sense whatever she was about to say was extremely important.

"Look, I need to talk to you about Sam," she told him, then paused again, worried about how her oldest brother would react to the news. She decided to beat around the bush. "Dean… has he done anything recently that seemed like, insanely out of character?" Her oldest brother's expression showed shrewd confusion and she tried to explain herself better. "Like, has he endangered you, or just, stood by when he should have been doing something to help out?"

His expression kept darkening. "Why?" A cautious, single word.

"Don't freak out," she said, however, she could already tell he was getting there. "Okay. I'm pretty sure… I'm pretty sure he let me get turned. And then let you get turned too."

Dean's face went absolutely cold. "Explain. Now."

She did. Intensely and with vast uncertainty. Not because she didn't remember it well. Because it seemed so horrible that Sam could really do what he'd done. "...I thought I had to be imagining this, Dean. But I remember it so clearly. Getting jumped by that vamp, and Sam was right there, a few feet off… and he wasn't doing anything. He was standing there watching. Like he was… I dunno, almost like he was interested in what was happening." Remembering it all over again, her veins went cold. "He had this little smile on his face." Dean looked absolutely horrified and Alex shook her head, looking out the window. "I don't know if that's Sam out there."

Dean lowered his voice to a hiss of a whisper and leaned closer to her, freaked out. "Why the hell didn't you tell me this sooner?!"

She matched his whisper with one of her own. "I didn't exactly have any chances since the hospital when I remembered it, Dean!"

He stood up, breathing a little heavier than before, looking out the window with an indescribable look on his face as he set his beer down onto the kitchen table and stared out the window at their brother. Alex stood up too and Dean shook his head, beside himself with blindsided dismay. "I knew something was wrong with him but…" he trailed off, looking back at her in dread. "You're sure? I mean, you're sure you're sure?"

She wished she wasn't. "Yeah. I am."

Dean didn't ask for any more information. He took her at her word, maybe because the suspicion had been building in him like it had been in her. He took decisive action, grabbing his cell phone out of his pocket. "Watch the window," he commanded. "You tell me if he's about to come in here."

"What are you doing?" Alex asked as he hurriedly pushed buttons on his phone. She put her barely-touched beer down beside his.

"Calling Bobby!" Was the agitated reply. Dean began to pace the room, throwing glances in Sam's general direction as he got hold of Bobby and explained the situation in a gruff, shaken voice, hurrying because they weren't sure how long Sam would actually stay gone. Alex went and sat back down on a bed, her hands gripping the edge of the mattress on either side of her legs. She kept her eyes on Sam, who was oblivious outside. She caught snatches of the phone conversation as she kept watch, but didn't really start listening until a certain point. "Well that's what she told me, Bobby! I don't know what else to tell you!" Dean protested, throwing a hand in the air for emphasis.

"We tested him. Salt, silver—everything." She could hear Bobby's voice through the phone even from her distance, that's how loud Dean's ancient cell was.

"He basically threw us to that vamp, Bobby, are you hearing me right now?!" Dean turned and began to pace the other way now, his disturbed state of mind translating into supremely volatile demeanor. "It's a friggin' miracle she's human again! I'm telling you—whoever that guy walking around in Sam's shoes is, he is not my brother."

"Well, then he's something we ain't ever seen before then."

"Yeah, or it's freakin' Lucifer."

"Did you call Cas?"

Alex's stomach flipped a little at the unexpected name mention.

"He's not answering," Dean grumbled, "Screw him. I can't wait anymore." He met Alex's sidelong glance. Cas was kind of a sore subject for them and he hadn't been brought up in the past twenty-four hours even once.

"Look, I get it," Bobby's voice continued, "You're rattled. You're right to be. But let's be professional—"

"Professional?" Dean repeated. "Sam watched Alex get turned! He let it happen!"

Alex stood up, put a hand on her forehead, and rubbed. This was crazy.

"And she's sure she saw what she thinks she saw?"

"Damn it, Bobby, yes, she wouldn't make that up!"

"I'm not tryin' to say she's lyin', son, I just… it ain't the same as proof. 'Cause we're talking about—"

"—we're talking about doing something about this and fast," Dean cut in sharply. Again, Alex looked at her brother apprehensively. 'Doing something' sounded like he meant killing. That seemed like a giant leap to take, and she faltered, wondered if maybe she should have waited before telling Dean what she'd seen. "It's not just the vamp stuff, okay?" Dean asked. "He's been different from the jump."

"I know," Bobby conceded. "I'm with you."

"Are you?" Dean challenged.

"Yeah. I'll hit the books, hard. Just don't shoot him yet, all right? Watch him. We need facts. 'Cause if it ain't Sam... we don't know what it is. And if we're gonna put him down, we need to know how. You and Alex keep an eye on. Watch for anything weird."

Dean scoffed immediately. "Anything weird? Everything's weird—I don't even want us to ride in the same car with him, much less work a damn case."

"He is your case, Dean, nut up." Bobby sighed. "You got anything else to go on?"

"Yeah, my skin crawls being in the same room with him," Dean quipped darkly. "Why don't you look that up?"

"Yeah, sure."

Dean shook his head and dragged the palm of his hand down over his mouth. "Dunno how much longer I can do this, Bobby. You got to figure out what the hell he is and fast."

There was a heavy pause. "Dean, there's a worst-case scenario."

"What, Satan's my co-pilot? Yeah, I know."

"Well, that'd be the other worst case."

Dean and Alex's gazes met briefly again, and Dean appeared to be confused. "Well, then what, Bobby?"

"Maybe it's just Sam."

The room went completely silent and Alex looked at Dean in somber anxiety. That was her greatest fear... that Sam was just this way now. That he just didn't care anymore. Somehow that was worse than anything else—him being a human being who didn't care about his brother and sister's wellbeing in the slightest.

"No." Dean rejected that idea and shook his head as his jaw tightened. "No way." He jabbed a finger down toward the floor. "You got a day, Bobby, one day, and then I'm handling this." And without any more Dean hung up rudely, in a completely foul mood. He looked over at the kitchenette, where several bottles of whiskey were. "I need something strong," he muttered.

She didn't normally do this, but today… she did. "You sure?" Alex had noticed how he'd been drinking so much more than normal here lately. Or, more than he used to. It wasn't healthy. The second she asked him, he turned around with a clouded expression.

"Don't do that," he warned flatly. "Not you too. I'll drink as much as I friggin' want."

She had no idea what he was implying—maybe Lisa had gotten onto him? His rude response made Alex get slightly sullen and sarcastic. "Yeah, well. Your liver probably looks like a camouflaged tarp by now, what's a little more gonna do to you?"

There was a short, tense silence and Dean looked guilty. Alex felt bad and understood, faintly, why Dean was desperate to abuse a substance. Anything to forget the problem and make it go away, but they couldn't do that with Sam. He was their brother. "Look, I get it," she said tiredly. "You're upset about Sam. But you can't just decide you're gonna shoot him if Bobby doesn't find something out by tomorrow!"

"Well what am I supposed to do?!" Dean asked. When she came up with no immediate answer, he turned to face her and walked over to speak intensely. "Sam would never just stand by and let you get turned, Alex. Never!" She looked down, conflicted. "You know that!" Dean insisted. "And I can't let us be around him if he's gonna endanger you! If that is Sam or isn't, he's dangerous."

"Yes you can, and you will 'let us be around him,' Dean," Alex retorted. "'Dangerous' is our life—so you and I are gonna sack up, keep our heads, and figure out who or what that is out there. Okay?" Dean was chastened and unhappy. He opened his mouth to reply… then never did.

The motel room opened without warning and in walked the one they were arguing about. Oblivious and seemingly eager, Sam cracked a smile. "Guys, there was another crazy murder."

Dean and Alex both faltered momentarily, trying to transition from high tensions to playing it cool. "Yeah?" Alex asked, finding her voice first.

"Dentist drilled a guy to death," Sam said. He sounded way too excited about it.

Dean narrowed his eyes slightly, glanced at his sister, then attempted a typical comment he'd make. "You mean the... non-sexy kind of drilling, right?"

Sam wiggled his eyebrows once. "Fifty bucks says he's mixed up in all the crazy."

"And this happened when?" Alex asked. She had to admit, that did sound pretty insane, especially if it just happened—it was still business hours.

"Not long at all—the perp just got taken in downtown," Sam said, then jerked his head backward, indicating the doorway. "Let's go talk to him."

Alex was up for it, but Dean hesitated. "Okay, uh... why don't you go ahead?" he asked then glanced around, fishing for an excuse. Really? Alex didn't think avoiding Sam would give them the answers they needed, but Dean seemed to want to do exactly that. "We'll catch up," he said, then pointed at the newspaper on the table. "Uh… research. We're gonna do a little research." He got a pointed, wide-eyed are you insane side eye. If Dean was going to talk about friggin' killing this guy in a day or two, they should probably make sure they knew who they were killing, not just dodge spending time around him!

Sam paused, frowned slightly in mild confusion. "Research?"

"Yeah," Dean said with a little more false enthusiasm than necessary. "We, we gotta know what we're up against, right?" Alex was trying not to shake her head at Dean's weirdo behavior.

Sam took the question in stride, agreeing after a couple seconds of deliberation. "Yeah. Yeah, good idea, I guess," he conceded, then looked at his twin, smiling a little even as he squinted in thought. "But is it really gonna take two of you to do research? I could use some backup."

"Uh…" Dean faltered.

Alex did the last thing Dean would want at that moment and decided to go with Sam—almost to spite her controlling oldest brother and prove to him that she was capable of taking care of herself. "No, you're right Sam," she said, grabbing up her suit jacket from off the back of a kitchen chair. "I'll come with."

Dean looked at her with wide what the hell are you thinking eyes.

Don't be a baby, she glared right back at him.

"Great," Sam said, not noticing. "Let's go." He turned for the door, Alex following behind.

"Wh—uh—" Dean protested, quickly following and then loudly stopping them. "No, Alex has to stay here!" He sounded panicked.

The twins turned around. Sam looked confused. Alex was giving her oldest brother a dagger glare, trying to silently communicate butt out. "Why?" Sam asked, mystified and looking at Alex for an explanation. She gave none, only arched an eyebrow slightly at Dean, who tried to come up with something—anything.

"Uh… we were having a really important conversation," he said lamely, scrambling for an excuse. "About… feelings. And uh…. things."

Alex rolled her eyes and didn't allow her brother the control. She'd already decided she was going with Sam and made it known. "No Dean, it's okay," she told him. "We'll finish the 'conversation' later. You stay here and enjoy your whiskey." He soured slightly at her dig about the whiskey. "We'll call if we need you. We've got our weapons and we've done this a million times before," she said, basically referring to herself as 'we' so that Sam wouldn't get what Dean's problem really was. "We don't need you with us for everything. We can take care of ourselves." As an afterthought, she glanced at her twin. "Right, Sam?"

Sam seemed totally unsure but agreed anyway. "Uh, yeah. Sure."

Dean was silently threatening and pleading Alex at the same time with his stare but she ignored it and gave him a meaningful, pointed look of her own. "We'll see you later," she said with finality and turned, grabbing her keys before she exited the room.

"You wanna drive or me?" Sam asked as he shut the door behind them.

Alex was already headed to her car. "I'll drive," she said flatly. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out, glancing at the screen. A text from Dean. Oh geez. She opened it. U crazy?

She typed out a reply really fast, glancing at Sam discreetly over the top of the car as he swung into the low passenger-side seat. Don't worry moron I got my gun. She got into the car, started it, and fiddled with the air controls. Her phone buzzed again.

Call if N E THING weird ! kick ur ass l8r

"Everything okay?" Sam asked, apparently wondering why they weren't leaving yet.

"Yeah," she said, putting on an unreadable expression. "Yeah." She put the car in reverse, well aware of herself, of Sam, and of where every weapon she possessed was. Once they were on the road and cruising, she glanced at him sidelong. Again, she tested him, trying to get a feel for how much of her brother was left in there. "So you wanna listen to some music, or…"

Sam was staring straight ahead, expression unaffected. "Nah. I don't really like music anymore."

Who didn't like music? In the past Sam would have requested Red Hot Chili Peppers or Dave Matthews Band or some other college-y rock group she wasn't too familiar with. "Well, I still like music," she said. "So how about some Journey?" It was a rhetorical question. She'd already hit play. After a couple minutes of driving—Sam quiet and focused on the point in front of himself, Alex chancing a few sidelong glances here and there—she cleared her throat, deciding to see what else she could find out. "So, Samuel. What's that guy all about?"

Sam's answer was short and concise. "Good hunter. Little bossy. Not bad in a pinch."

All true enough as far as she knew. But the cryptic tone and brief answer wasn't fulfilling her curiosity. "How'd you guys meet, again?"

"Ran into each other on the same job."

Getting answers that weren't one or two words out of him was like pulling teeth. "Which was what kind of job?" she asked, redoubling her patience.

"Rugaru. Over in Portland."

Huh. It just didn't fit with Sam's personality to take up hunting with a random family member who also happened to be alive again inexplicably. There was something to this. She kept casually, passively digging for information and clues, anything. "And you just paired up with him. Sight unseen."

"Yeah, pretty much."

The clipped answers were driving her crazy. "I mean, you had to know I was out there somewhere if you knew about what Dean was doing, right? So why'd you never track me down?"

"Tried," Sam said simply. "Couldn't." He finally looked at her for more than a millisecond, seeming to sense that she was fishing for some kind of input on his part. He said what she hadn't expected at all. "I'm glad we're back together again. The three of us. We're a good team."

Although it sounded nice, it didn't seem entirely genuine. Was that what he thought she'd wanna hear? He seemed so calculating to her suddenly, and it chilled her to the bone and made her unsure if she really should be alone with him. Memories of Glen, who she'd trusted until it had been too late, came to mind.

"Yeah. A good team," she echoed, outwardly appearing to agree with him and happy about the family reunion. She forced a smiled in his direction so he wouldn't see how suspicious she was of him. Inwardly, she was more unsure of him than ever and fearing the worst. There was a seemingly caring and thoughtful smile on her brother's face. It had a foreboding effect on her because it was missing an earnestness, a warmth. Alex was definitely beginning to regret her impulsive decision to accompany Sam out on the investigation, but stubborn pride kept her from turning the car around. She had to follow through on this.

---

A Couple Hours Later

Dean slammed the motel room door behind himself, making a beeline for more whiskey once he was inside. This was easily one of the more stressful days he'd had and there wasn't enough Jack in the world right now to soothe his rattled nerves. He yanked a glass out of the crummy motel cabinet and poured himself a glassful of hunter's helper. This was him trying not to be the overly-controlling brother. Alex wanted to be alone with the guy who'd let her get turned into a vamp? Fine! He downed a huge gulp of the dark amber liquid. Not fine, but what choice did he have? She was super into doing her own thing these days and he was trying his damnedest to let her have the freedom to make her own shitty choices. It went against every instinct he possessed and basically had him in one of the foulest moods of his life. The alcohol wasn't helping much, either. Surly, Dean cast around glances for Sam's laptop. Where was that damn thing? He for real needed to do research now.

Alex had called him a little bit ago with two bits of information: one, the dentist who'd drilled a guy to death? He had killed himself in his holding cell as soon as he'd been left alone. She and Sam hadn't gotten to talk to him but they'd been able to talk to his assistant, who'd heard some of the lead-up to the murder. Apparently the patient had said some very true but incriminating things that had pissed the dentist off enough to kill right then and there. Dean could see the pattern that was beginning to form: people were telling the bitter, raw truth in this town for some reason, and it was driving people to murder and suicide. Jane's sister Olivia had apparently told Jane how much of a burden she was and that she should kill herself. Seemed witchy or curse-y to Dean, but there were no overt signs of witchcraft they could find.

The reason Alex had called him a bit ago was to ask him to go check out a place called Harry's House of Horns while she went and picked Sam up from the morgue. She'd found a receipt from that shop at the dentist's office when she checked out the crime scene and had remembered seeing a magnet from the same business at Jane's house. Dean had gone since the horn shop was the only thing they could find in common for the victims. Harry, the shop owner, had asked Dean (masquerading as FBI) when he was going to get him his stolen horn back. What stolen horn? Dean had asked. The priceless, thousand-year old antique that disappeared the same day Jane died, Harry had said, then shown Dean a picture of an ancient looking horn.

Dean found Sam's laptop and opened it up. He had a feeling maybe Harry's missing horn was involved somehow in the weird truth stuff going on in town. He started to search the web for horns that appeared in biblical times. He kept getting one hit over and over: Gabriel's horn of truth. There was an arty depiction of it on one of the webpages that looked an awful lot like the picture Harry had shown Dean. "Yeah, great," he muttered under his breath. "The God squad's involved." He reached for the nearly-empty glass of whiskey on the nightstand and drained the last few drops. This was just what he needed. More angel crap. Cas was being an asshole as usual and not answering his calls. He'd tried a few days ago and then again last night, calling him and telling him that he needed help about Sam. And then today after Alex had left he'd tried again, even more alarmed than before after what Alex had told him. Cas, I need some answers about Sam, pronto! He'd basically shouted. Where the hell are you?! Cas hadn't shown. Typical.

Even though he knew it wasn't gonna work, he still tried, even if he was sort of surly about it. "Castiel? Hello?" he muttered, not putting much enthusiasm into his voice at all. "Possible loose nuke down here, angelic weapon. Kinda your department." He shut the laptop and tossed it down on the bed beside himself then stood up, whiskey glass in hand. He looked upward, raised his voice. "You hear that, Cas?" He rolled his eyes, turning around to head back for more whiskey. Then stopped short when he saw the angel in the trench coat leaned against the kitchen counter. There was a pensive look on the angel's careworn face.

"Hello, Dean."

"You kidding me?" Dean asked, his jaw hanging slightly. "I've been on red alert about Sam and then you come for some stupid horn?!"

Cas was quiet, withdrawn, and plaintive. "You asked me to be here, and I came."

Dean flew off the handle. "I've been asking you to be here for days, you dick!"

A little wounded, Cas's eyebrows moved together slightly as if he didn't understand Dean's insult. Then he looked down and maintained his earnest demeanor. "I didn't come about Sam…" he looked back at Dean anxiously, "because I have nothing to offer about Sam."

"Well that's great," Dean retorted rudely, "because for all we know, he's just gift wrap for Lucifer! And my crazy dumbass sister is just out there with him right now somewhere!"

At the mention of her Cas was visibly affected, which only incensed Dean further. The angel shook his head slowly and looked down beside himself. "She'll be fine." Cas picked up the half-empty bottle of whiskey that he'd spotted. "He's... he's not Lucifer." Liquor in hand, Cas slowly approached.

"And how do you know that?" Dean asked tersely.

In a surprising act of perhaps apology, Cas poured Dean more whiskey into his glass. "If Lucifer escaped the cage, we'd feel it."

Maybe Dean should have been comforted by that, but he just felt more lost than ever. What did that mean? Who was the guy walking around who looked like his brother? Was it like Bobby had said? The "worse-cast scenario"? Cas finished filling his glass halfway and Dean lost his angry front in favor of the fear he was feeling. "What is wrong with him?"

"I don't know, Dean," Cas said heavily. "I'm sorry."

He said he was sorry but didn't look sorry enough. And Dean remembered how Cas had been a year ago, back at the graveyard. Emoting and vulnerable, kneeling there beside Bobby's van with Alex, who'd been dying from being possessed by Lucifer. He'd seemed so genuine and caring, and that had been the only time Dean hadn't been totally skeeved out about them together. Now he was apparently back to his original make and model: stiff, clueless, and unreliable. "What happened to you, Cas?" Dean asked, a little sour. "You used to be human, or at least like one."

Castiel looked as if he'd been accused of something wretched and his eyes fell away from Dean's guiltily. "Yes," he admitted heavily. "I was. But... I'm at war." He turned away and returned to the kitchen sink, leaning there heavily as he kept his back to Dean. "Certain... regrettable things are now required of me."

That was rich. "Yeah?" Dean basically sneered. "What things, like breaking my little sister's heart?" Cas turned around, his expression strange. Shaking his head, Dean raised his chin a little and narrowed his eyes at Cas. At that moment, Dean saw Cas as the scapegoat for all the things currently wrong with his sister. "I dunno what you two got going these days, but she hasn't been the same since you," he accused. "And by the way real good job being her guardian angel, Cas, way to keep her safe."

Cas's eyes narrowed as his frown deepened. "What... do you mean?"

"Oh, geez, Cas, I dunno," Dean said with an ugly, blunt tone. "Some dude almost raping her? The way she got turned into a freaking vampire a couple days ago? And you're just off fighting your stupid little war in the sky while this shit goes down?!"

Cas looked positively shocked and horrified. "A vampi—is she all right?"

The panicked look in the angel's eyes was almost like a slap in the face to Dean because it was too little too late. "Yeah, fine, no thanks to you," he snapped. "You talk such a big game about protecting her then never come through when she needs you. My sister doesn't need that shit from you or anyone else, understand?" He tightened his jaw. "What she needs is someone who's not gonna run off on her all the time." He paused for gut-punch effect. "And buddy, that clearly ain't you."

Again, Cas looked hurt and disillusioned. "Why did no one call me?"

"Because you never friggin' answer!" Dean thundered.

There was a tense silence, and Cas was looking down again in what looked like shame. Good, Dean thought. He should be after failing to keep her safe. And then Cas said something that would stick with Dean forever after: "Dean. If it's about her, I will always come."

Something about the words and the way they were said made Dean have this strange pit of fear in his stomach. He was actively mad at Cas for not caring enough but it freaked him the hell out to hear Cas basically imply that she was more important than anything else. To Dean, it felt like the circumstances were like the perfect storm for something awful to happen—he couldn't even explain it to himself in his own mind. He just had a bad feeling about it. Again, he wondered exactly how involved the two of them were, yet was afraid to find out. Disgusted outwardly, Dean rolled his eyes. "Gimme a break, Cas."

Chagrinned, Cas seemed to stow his personal feelings. His face became blank. "What is it that you need from me, Dean?"

"Gabriel's horn of truth." Dean replied blandly, also pushing his more snide demeanor to the wayside. "Is that a real thing?"

Cas was immediately interested, frowning deeply and approaching Dean again. "You've seen it?"

"I think it's in town," Dean said. "Something's forcing people to—" he stopped when Cas abruptly disappeared from in front of him. "Oh, well, you're welcome!" he complained and raised his glass to his lips to drain the rest of the whiskey.

"It isn't the horn of truth."

Dean turned, almost choking on half-swallowed whiskey. Cas stood there behind him by the beds. "What are you talking about?" Dean asked, a little caught off guard. "You were gone for like two seconds. Where did you look?"

Cas's befuddled expression suggested Dean's question was a little preposterous. "Everywhere."

"...Right." Dean eyed him dubiously. "Well, nice seeing you, anyway." He turned around to pour himself more whiskey. Why bother? He should just drink straight from the bottle. It was almost all gone, anyway.

"Dean." Cas hadn't left yet.

"What?" He asked sharply, not turning around.

"About your brother. I... I don't know what's wrong with him, but I do want to help. I'll make inquiries." There was a heavy pause. "And about your sister… you're right. I should watch her closer." Dean turned around to see Cas standing there and looking at the floor in a somber, pained way. "This is a difficult time for me."

That guy had a lot of nerve. "Oh how sad for you, Cas."

Cas's eyes raised to Dean's and were full of confusion and pain. "I'm attempting to help you, Dean," he implored. "All I've ever attempted to do is to help you. Why do you insist on being so hostile?" The heartfelt question rendered Dean unable to summon a mean retort. He faltered a little and felt a flicker of shame at himself. Cas was tense and his low, sandpapery voice was burdened. He no longer looked at Dean at all. "I'll contact you when I've found any news worth sharing." He disappeared, leaving Dean in the empty room.

Well this was just wonderful.

Dean downed the last of his whiskey stash then looked at the empty bottle mournfully. There was a bar across the street. And that's where he was suddenly heading without a second thought. As he crossed the street, his thoughts refused to leave the Alex and Cas conundrum filling his mind. Were they still some kind of weird little couple like they'd seemed to be last year? She wouldn't say and Dean wasn't about to ask Cas. Not yet. As far as he could tell, the two of them seemed to be on the rocks or on a different page. Like before, he didn't like it. But maybe it was winding down and over now. Maybe Alex's little infatuation with the angel in the trench coat was running its course and now she'd seen for herself that it wasn't gonna work out. Maybe now she could get over it and find herself a human guy.

And really, maybe he was misremembering things. That kiss he'd seen, maybe it was Alex who had initiated it—Cas was no Rico Suave, he was a popsicle stick with arms and no personality. It was a mystery why Alex was attracted to him at all. Dean remembered how Cas had privately told him that he loved Alex a year ago. And now Dean wondered if maybe the angel had been confused about what he was saying or thought he was feeling. He had said it when he'd lost his powers and wasn't as robo-angel as he was right now. Dean remembered that day Cas and Alex been gone and apparently spent the night away together somewhere. At the time he'd had this crazy feeling that they'd been together. You know… together. But now he was thinking, honestly, how could Cas have sexual feelings about anyone? He barely had feeling feelings. Either way, it was too weird to think about, a thousands-year old angel trying to put the moves on his impressionable, romance-novel reading, relationship-virgin (and otherwise-virgin) sister. If he ever did find out Cas had taken advantage of Alex's little crush like that… well Dean wouldn't be happy at all, and that was putting it mildly.

---

Across town from where Dean was currently stewing, Alex was in a very pink, very cat-decorated bedroom. She could hear Sam talking in low tones in the living room on the other side of the apartment wall.

She'd gone to pick up her twin from the morgue after her little visit to the dentist and had found him tapping a foot impatiently outside as he had waited. All the murder and suicide victim's bodies were gone from the morgue apparently. Vanished seemingly into thin air. But one of the bodies that had disappeared hadn't been a suicide or murder. It had been a girl named Corey who died in a car crash, and she'd died a week before all the other deaths had started. Patient zero, maybe? Sam was out in the living room, talking to the girl's roommate while Alex poked around Corey's cat-obsessed bedroom. There was a framed photo of a fluffy black and white cat on the dresser, little cat statuettes littering surfaces. Cat overload, much? It made Alex a little queasy.

She went to the bedside table, noticing the corner of a box poking out from underneath the bed. Bending, she pulled it out and straightened. What was this? She set it down on the bed, about to open it. And then...

"Hello, Alex."

A hand over her heart, Alex jumped back a little and gaped at Cas, who stood on the opposite side of the bed. "Jesus, Cas! Almost gave me a heart attack!" she exclaimed, stunned to see him just suddenly just standing there. He looked the same as ever—stern and devastatingly handsome and mildly worried with his hands at his sides. His abrupt appearance made her self-conscious and in how she was completely unprepared to see him. "W-what are you doing here?" Maybe something was wrong.

"I saw you," he said. "When I was searching the town for Gabriel's horn of truth." He paused and looked at her with great somber hesitation. She had no idea what to do or say. "Dean told me," Cas ventured slowly, and his husky voice was full of concerned anxiety. Alex's chest clenched apprehensively. "About what happened. How you were... somehow turned into a vampire." Hearing that cursed word from his mouth made Alex shrivel internally in disgust at herself, like she could have somehow controlled what had happened to her. She looked downward, a little queasy. She hadn't wanted him to know about that at all. "Why didn't you call me?" Cas asked her sadly.

His intensely caring presence was overwhelming and she cleared her throat, looking around for something to do or pretend to be doing. Anything to disguise her inner feelings. "Didn't wanna bother you," she said in clipped tones, trying to run from her own feelings. "I know you're busy."

"Bother me?" he repeated, hurt. He chanced coming closer, rounding the side and then end of the bed to come toward her. She was hyper-aware of everything about him: how close he was, how tall he was, how easy it would be to go to him for a hug, how good he looked, how his shoes made muffled little sounds on the carpet as he came to stand just a few feet away from her. "Alex, you should have called me," he said, and it was easy to hear how he couldn't understand why she didn't. His careful distance seemed intentional, like he was trying not to upset her or make her uncomfortable. And she wished it wasn't that way. The deep the divide between them felt impossible to cross. "I could have helped you," he continued earnestly. "Or at the very least tried."

She shook her head just once, a pained, tight smile on her face. Speaking became difficult. "Couldn't let you see me like that, Cas."

Further confused and hurt, Cas came a little closer. "Why not?"

"I just couldn't, okay?!" she asked, getting riled up at his increasing nearness. He was arm's length away. Close enough to touch. Close enough to push away. The shame she felt from the demon blood and the vampire crap still ate at her and made her feel so ugly and worthless. "H-haven't you seen me at my lowest points enough lately?" She looked up into his eyes fully and letting him see, for a moment, her true feelings.

In a moment out of what seemed a past life, he hesitated and then reached out and gently touched her arm, trying to comfort her and maybe initiate an embrace. His touch was simultaneously everything she wanted, needed, and desired… and also not close to being enough. She pulled away, not even entirely sure why. Immediately, she regretted it. But it was too late.

Castiel was stung and surprised. He quickly became abashed despite his confusion. "I'm sorry," he apologized, clearly upset with himself. "I didn't mean to overstep my bounds."

Immediately feeling a little worse, Alex attempted to act like everything was A-OK and tried to cover up over the issue at hand. "It's fine. I'm just… just busy, focused on work. It's a lot. But it's nothing I can't handle." He didn't seem to believe her, looking at her with those intensely sad blue eyes of his. They broke her a little, reminding her of how lonely she was and how unsure she was about the future. She tried to make it about him and tried to sell the idea that she was staying strong for him. "But I guess that's just life right now, huh? You've got your stuff upstairs, I'm down here." She shrugged and smiled even though she didn't feel the smile. "You don't need to worry about me, Cas," she lied. "I'm fine." God, she wasn't fine at all, but if he if had any idea of how screwed up she was right now, he'd feel guilty for leaving. And she knew, inevitably, he'd have to. In a way, she felt like she was protecting him from sadness by keeping hers to herself.

His eyes seemed to see everything about her and he didn't look sure about her statement of I'm fine. "Alex, we should talk, shouldn't we?"

She wanted to shrink back, disappear. Talk about what? The demon blood? The vampire stuff? The things she'd said in Scotland? Something else? The idea of having an emotional discussion terrified her. "Not now, I have um, a job," she said, excusing herself stiltedly as she motioned to the bedroom vaguely. "The case." Even to herself, her reaction was ludicrous and she hated herself for it. This was hard as hell, because the thing she dreamed of constantly was this, him. All she could think about was how she wanted to just be with him like they had been before. She just wanted to know where they stood. She wanted to let him in and let herself be real with him. But right now when given the chance, she was too scared to actually let it happen. She'd been so burned and was so terrified to be burned again.

"Of course," Cas said after a long pause. He was polite and courteous as ever, but still deeply anxious, trying again to appeal to her and get her to talk to him. "The job. I only thought—"

Alex shook her head, shifted the box on the bed, trying to look businesslike. "Maybe later, Cas."

"But—"

"No!" she suddenly exclaimed, looking directly at him. She'd said that a little louder than she meant to and they were both surprised by it. Alex took a second to compose herself. Chastened, she attempted a calm tone. "I… I told you. I'm busy right now."

He looked so miserable and worried and lost that she couldn't meet his gaze. She had both of her hands on the box she'd found under the bed but she just stared down at her hands without seeing or remembering what she was doing. Only realizing that she was fucking up this moment with Cas beyond compare. He'd picked the wrong girl, he loved her too much, and she was doing nothing but letting him down. She didn't know how to be better at this. She blinked away emotion that threatened to turn to tears. At this point he studied her profile silently. Her hair, swept back into a neat little low pony tail (part of the FBI look) didn't hang down to shield her face from scrutiny.

Cas seemed to see through her. "I don't understand why you're attempting to push me away." His forlorn insight was heartbreaking.

She glanced his way, pitifully trying to deny his very accurate statement. "I'm not."

Another long pause. "You won't even look at me," Cas observed in a disconsolate tone, sadness coloring the way he sought her gaze. His pained voice softened. "Do you truly find me that abhorrent?"

Sick with herself—she hadn't meant to make him feel that way—Alex put a hand on her face, her attempts at holding him at arm's length buckling underneath her need to reassure him. "No. No, of course not." It was time to just man up and let him know she was having a tough time, that she was hurt and confused and carrying a lot of unanswered questions around, could he please help her understand some things? So she attempted to be honest and dropped her hand down, drew her shoulders up, then turned to look at him straight on, preparing herself for a really emotionally exhausting conversation. "I'm just… this is hard, Cas." That was putting it lightly, but it was all she could dredge up for the moment. With surprising intuition, Cas seemed to understand, vaguely, what she meant, and started to speak to her fear without hesitation on his part.

"What we were before…" he began, then paused, looking upward, his expression darkening and screwing up into a squinting frown.

"What is it?" Alex asked, dread filling her. She already knew. He had to go.

"I'm being summoned to the battlefields." He looked down grimly, his jaw working. Don't go. Her hand shot out almost of its own accord, latching onto his wrist through the trench coat as dismay rocketed upwards in her—he seemed surprised by her sudden action and before she could think it through, she closed the distance between them and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. She had to squeeze her eyes shut against the tears she'd been holding back. She felt his arms hugging around her gently, as if he were afraid of breaking her or upsetting her again and she hugged him even harder, trying to somehow tell him through the touch I still love you, I'm just afraid. I miss you and I need you more than I know how to say. I just want us to be okay again. Are we okay? Do you still love me? Being held there in the safety his arms, she could believe nothing had changed at all. She drew back regretfully, knowing he had to leave. And as they came apart, her doubts returned, her fears reared their head again. She pulled away completely, stepping back and away from him. She could think of nothing to say.

Cas seemed both encouraged and vaguely worried by the sudden hug and then the abrupt way she'd ended it. "I'll return to you as soon as I can," he promised.

She nodded. And then he was gone, leaving a gaping empty space both in the room and in her heart.

---

Dean pulled up to the apartment complex and eyeballed it as he parked the Impala there on the side of the road. This was about to get... interesting.

About ten minutes ago while Dean was lurking at the bar uselessly, Sam had called to tell him to head that way because he and Alex had found patient zero. Dean had slapped money down on the bar as thoughts of Sam plagued his mind and the barkeep has innocently asked if she could get him anything else. Dean had said no, then mumbled to himself that all he wanted was the goddamn truth.

An offhand comment. But apparently, the way to get yourself cursed. The second he'd said that, the barkeep had wondered out loud why she couldn't get pregnant; maybe because God knew her marriage was a scam. She'd paused then frowned, asking why she'd said that, then promptly reasoned that maybe it was because she'd been snorting oxy all day. Again, she'd been shocked at her sudden confession. Then, the busty woman a table over had looked at Dean and smiled coyly then told him she was sitting the way she was sitting that way so guys would look at her recently bought breasts. She'd then commented on how much attention she needed. Appreciative of the sight of all that cleavage but a little flabbergasted at the sudden outpouring of truth, Dean had hightailed it out of the bar and then realized, hey… maybe this wasn't such a bad thing. He was cursed with hearing the truth from whoever he came into contact with? That meant he had a few questions for Sam.

He got out of the car, intent on going up there and finding his brother and getting the damn truth even as his phone began to ring in his pocket. He looked to see who it was—Lisa. Finally. But this wasn't the best time. Hmm. He answered anyway, dreading this call. "Hey."

Lisa's familiar voice sounded not so happy with him. "Saw you called," she said lowly.

Not good. "Yeah, it's been crazy," Dean said, feeling like he was about to get raked over the coals.

There was a long, tense pause. "Ben won't even talk about it."

God. Dean put a hand on his forehead, filled with self-loathing. "Lisa, I'm sorry, but this is actually the... worst time in the universe to talk," Dean said, looking over at the apartment building again. "C-can we do this later?"

"You shoved my kid, Dean," Lisa said, her voice cool with anger. "How about we do this now?"

"It… it wasn't like that," Dean said, not sure how to tell her 'my fangs made me do it.'

"Then how was it?" she challenged.

He shook his head vapidly, coming up with nothing. "I... can't really explain." She probably thought he was a liar, a drunk, and a child abuser.

There was a long pause. "You wanna know the truth, Dean?" Lisa asked calmly. And then he remembered the truth curse anew. He was about to hear the whole truth and nothing but the truth. "You've got so much buried in there, and you push it down, and you push it down," Lisa accused. "You never face any of your problems! Do you honestly think that you can go through life like that? Just, what, drink half a fifth a night and you're good?"

Always with the nagging about the alcohol. "You knew what you signed up for," Dean told her grudgingly. It wasn't a point of pride for him.

"Yeah, maybe," Lisa said, clearly not finished airing her opinions. "But I didn't expect that Sam would come back or your crazy sister would reappear. And I'm glad they're both okay, I am. But the minute Sam walked through that door, I knew. It was over. You three have the most unhealthy, tangled-up, crazy thing I've ever seen. And as long as they're in your life, you're never gonna be happy. You're just gonna keep being an overgrown father to two adults who don't even need you. You're the one who needs them." She paused, sounding surprised at herself and a little worried. "That... came out so much harsher than I meant."

"It's not your fault," Dean said quietly, because it wasn't. It was the truth curse. But it still hurt him the same to hear those things. Was she right? Did his brother and sister not need him? Was he the one with the real issues?

"I'm not saying don't be close to your brother and sister," Lisa said, trying to explain herself. "I'm close to my sister. But if she got killed, I wouldn't bring her back from the dead! And she's got problems, too, but I mean, I wouldn't just give up my life to spend it with her and help her out… she's a grown woman! And so is Alex! I mean, you and your sister, it freaks me out. Siblings just aren't supposed to be that close, Dean."

His hackles raised. She had no right to say that; she didn't know what the hell she was talking about. She hadn't been through the life that he had. She hadn't needed to protect her sister from the shit Dean had tried to keep away from Sam and Alex. "Okay, Lees... I'm not gonna lie," he said gruffly, trying to stay calm and not show how insulted he was. "Me and my family? We... we've got our issues. No doubt." He didn't need to say anything else, because she knew that well enough. "But you and Ben—"

She cut him off. "Me and Ben can't be in this with you. I'm sorry. It has to be over. It's over."

What? He was stunned at the sudden statement, and protested. "Lees—" he started, then heard the click at the other end. She'd hung up. He stared at his phone, shocked. Over? Just like that?

Behind him, he heard the approach of footsteps and he turned in a daze. Alex was walking down the sidewalk toward him, her expression stern and distracted. "Hey," she greeted as she got to him. "Think we found our…" she paused, finally looking at him squarely and noticing his expression. Her face softened into worry. "What's wrong?"

He must have looked as shellshocked as he felt. "I uh…" he trailed off, barely able to understand what had just happened. "I think Lisa just broke up with me."

Sympathy passed over her features. "I'm sorry Dean. But, hey, I didn't really like her that much anyway." She said that and then immediately balked, confused. "Uh—what I meant to say is, I've never liked any of the girls you've dated." Her mouth dropped open and she clapped a hand over her mouth, seemingly horrified at herself as she put two and two together. "Wha… Dean! Did you get yourself cursed with the truth?!"

"Yeah," he said, downcast. "And boy am I getting it." He folded his arms and looked at her challengingly. "Got anything else you wanna confess?"

"I really hated your haircut in the nineties," she said, then gasped at herself, clapped her hands over her mouth but she didn't stop. "And your little five-hair mustache that you were so proud of when you were fourteen!" she exclaimed, breathless and disconcerted. "You looked like a pervert." Her eyes widened in shock at herself and she was getting frustrated. "Oh my god, words won't stop coming out!" she said, voice a little shrill with panic.

"You said you liked the stache!" Dean protested. He'd been so proud of it at the time. "I distinctly remember you giving me the two thumbs up!"

"My thumbs lied," she said, completely truthful and dismayed at herself for it. Her face worked hard, like she was trying not to say more. "Also, I threw your swiss army knife into a gutter when I was seven because you pissed me off."

He'd always wondered what happened to that thing. Grim, he pressed his mouth into a wan line. "This curse sucks."

He spotted Sam coming out of the apartment building, carrying a box. Sam was already coming over, his long stride getting him there quickly. "Hey! So we found something," he said, indicating the little box he had in hand.

Dean looked at Sam squarely. This was what was going to make the truth curse worth it for him. "It can wait," he told his brother. "We got to talk."

"What's up?" Sam seemed willing enough. With arms crossed, Alex stared at the ground beside Dean, her mouth clamped closed.

"There's a few things I want to ask you, and, uh, you're gonna tell me the truth," Dean said.

"Yeah, Dean. Of course. What are you talking about?" Sam asked, then understanding came across his face and his eyes widened. "Whoa. Are you saying you're…"

"Yeah. I asked for the truth." Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam. "So, like I said, I have a few questions for you." This was the terrifying moment of truth and Dean raised his chin a little. "Did you just stand there and let Alex get turned into a vamp?"

Sam looked Dean in the eye, seeming remorseful. "Yes. I did."

It was like an emotional and physical shockwave hit Dean, rendering him unable to breathe for the slightest moment. "And why the hell would you do that?" he asked, low and dangerous. Without even realizing it, he stepped closer to Sam, putting himself between his siblings protectively.

Sam's face took on the long-forgotten puppy-dog eye look, then shame. "I… I froze."

Dean balked. "You froze." That made zero sense. "Dude, you have been Terminator since you got back."

Sam shook his head, somber and increasingly sad. "I don't know. Shock, maybe? And then it was too late." He looked at Alex with a worried expression in his eyes. "I feel... terrible about it." Alex's mistrustful eyes met his and he looked down, utterly defeated. "Terrible," he repeated, then looked at Dean pleadingly. "I'm so sorry. Believe me. Dean... I can't lie here—do you really think I would let something like that happen on purpose?" He was getting agitated and upset, reminiscent of the Sam that Dean and Alex remembered. "She's… my baby sister, my twin. H-how could you even—"

"Okay." Dean cut him off, realizing that this was the truth and he needed to let Sammy know it was all right. He was relieved, but somehow, he didn't feel entirely better. "Okay. Sorry," he shook his head and glanced at Alex, who seemed similarly surprised at Sam's confession. "I… I thought… I dunno what I thought. I... I guess I was wrong. It's just been a really, really bad day." He thought about Lisa and Cas and everything and rubbed the side of his face.

"Hey. It's okay," Sam consoled, giving Dean a kind smile. "I got your back, all right? I always have."

Dean nodded, fighting deep emotions off. He could barely look his brother in the eye. "Thanks, Sammy."

"Yeah." Sam motioned to the familiar Mustang parked across the street. "I'm gonna go put this stuff into Alex's car." He brushed past them and the second that all they could see was his back, his face went completely blank of emotion. But Dean and Alex didn't see.

Dean and Alex watched their brother walk across the street away from them and Dean shook his head. "Well. I dunno whether to be relieved or more depressed than before," he said, and looked at his sister for some kind of advice or wisdom.

She looked like she was similarly thoughtful. Opened her mouth to maybe tell him it would all be okay, they would figure it out. But instead… she said the last thing he was expecting to hear. "Cas and I had sex." Her face was absolutely floored after she said that and Dean gaped at her. Was she serious?

"No you didn't," he said slowly.

"Yeah, we did," she replied casually. "We were each other's firsts." After she said it, her eyes widened in horror.

Dean was momentarily too shocked to do anything but stare like an idiot. The truth curse. She couldn't lie. "Ho...ly… fuck," he managed, then realized the irony of his choice of words. "Literally," he commented darkly as the reality set in. "That son of a bitch. I knew it, I knew he was screwin' around!" he growled then paused, his voice raising. "Again, literally!"

Alex shook her head and made a face full of denial. "Dean, we love each other. We wanna be together forever."

Dean held up a hand and made a face like he'd smelled something bad. "Ugh, come on—don't gimme that crap..." Did the L word have to come into it? Was she really that dumb?

"It's not crap," Alex insisted, "he loves me enough t—"

Dumbfounded, Dean cut her off. "Cas? Cas? I mean, of all the dudes in this universe... him, really? Dude doesn't even know how to pick out a new outfit and has a permanent stick up his ass, how the hell is he gonna… do that… to you… ugh." Dean felt the need to lean against something. "I'm gonna be sick."

Alex opened her mouth to tell him off, but instead of insults, out came something much worse. "I don't know what you're worried about—he's an amazing lover, Dean, I really love how he—"

"Oh no, no no no… no!" Dean told her, panicking and getting more and more furious as the reality of it all set in. "Do not tell me any of that. I'm scarred for life as it is!" She seemed confused. He threw his arms wide and looked at the sky for sympathy, deciding in overdramatic fashion: "This is the worst day of my life."

Alex rolled her eyes. "How do you think I felt, growing up, watching you play tonsil hockey with every cheerleader in every high school we went to?! And that time I saw you and Amy Allen in the gym. I still have nightmares. It's gross. You're gross."

"Am not," Dean retorted, then pointed at her. "You are." Wow, not one of his best comebacks ever… focus, Winchester, he told himself. "When did this happen? When did that haloed jerkwad put his ancient-ass angel moves on you?"

She looked like she was going to tell him to screw off. Instead, the truth came out. "That night you ran off to say yes to Michael, then in Bobby's attic a couple days later, then in a car and then…" she stopped, her face turned red almost from effort. "Dammit Dean! I'm really fucking pissed you're using this spell to ask me this stuff!"

Yeah, that's nice, cry me a river. Dean didn't really care. Cas had some fucking nerve to go behind Dean's back and do this crap. He struggled not to hit the roof completely, he tried to take it in stride. "Of all the disturbing shit I've seen and heard in my day... I mean, I kinda thought he was like a Ken doll down there," he muttered.

"No, he's got—"

Dean held both hands out, fast, his eyes going wide. "Whoa, whoa, stop right there, do not need to know that! Never, ever, tell me about Cas's junk, god!"

Alex was just as exasperating as he was, and turning red to boot. "You're the one who got cursed with the truth! Shit, Dean, I'm gonna threaten to kill you right now even though we both know I never would." She heard herself and was pissed. "Dammit!"

Dean could care less if she threatened to kill him. He was in Dad mode. "Did you at least use protection!?" he asked, daring her to say no.

Her face registered something like uh oh. "No. Never. Not even once."

Dean hit the roof. "Jesus friggin' Christ Alex!" he basically shouted. "You crazy?!" He looked around like he literally couldn't find the words to say. "What is wrong with you? That's just what the world needs, Castiel Junior running around!"

Alex considered. "Huh. That would be a cute name, wouldn't it?"

Even more riled up than before, Dean grabbed her by the shoulders, trying to get her to listen to reason. "Christ, Alex, you still think you're gonna have a regular life with this guy?! What, you're just gonna get married, settle down, have kids?!"

"Well yeah, actually, Dean—"

"Okay, okay, enough." Dean waved a hand in dismissal, getting disgusted with the entire thing. "I don't wanna hear any more about this crap, what he did to you or where he did it with those creepy meaty hands of his. Eugh." That wasn't the thing that made him the maddest. He was almost so pissed at her lack of responsibility that he wanted to walk away. Dean couldn't handle it: What if he got her pregnant? Would the kid even be human? What if there was some kind of angel STD? Christ, he didn't know! He forced himself to calm down. He still needed to know something. And with his next question, he set off an unforeseen monologue neither of them expected. "Are you two still together or what?" Because he would be speaking with Cas about this, at length. Speaking and maybe punching.

She shook her head sadly. "I'm not sure." Her face suddenly registered great emotional pain and she looked down, swallowing hard. And then it all came pouring out as her voice cracked. "I'm not sure. And it's killing me. This life is killing me." Her eyes raised to him and her composure crumbled at an alarming rate. "I can't eat or sleep, Dean, everything bothers me and nothing's normal anymore. Not Sam, not you, not Cas—not me—" her eyes were flooded with tears at this point and she looked terrified. "I was almost raped, Dean!" Hearing her say it aloud was like being hit with a sledgehammer and Dean didn't know what to do. "It was the worst, scariest moment of my life and I'm trying to act like I don't give a fuck because I don't wanna be seen as weak or stupid, two things I know that I am," she blubbered, voice wrought with pain. "I hate asking for help because I've always felt so helpless, and everything I've ever done is me trying to prove that I'm not helpless. But I don't know!" She put her hands on the top of her head like she was grieved to the point of madness.

No longer mad—now worried and shocked—Dean reached out, trying to touch her shoulder. She felt his hand and jerked away like it was venomous. "I'm so tired of leaning on people!" she exclaimed as tears ran down her face. "My whole life I've used a crutch and it was you. I used to need that, but I don't anymore, or I shouldn't! I'm twenty-nine, I'm an adult, or I'm supposed to be…? But here I am, emotionally fucked up in every way possible." The utter hopelessness and grief in her voice was painful. "I always thought when I was this old, I'd have it figured out, that I'd feel grown up. But I still feel like a clueless kid. So I've been trying to act like whatever a normal person is supposed to act like, I've been trying to be strong because I don't wanna be your burden anymore." Another sledgehammer to Dean's heart.

Alex shook her head, face crumpling all over again. "But it's killing me. I don't know how to be anyone but who I am; and who I am is twisted, and lost, and confused." She rubbed her face with both hands like she was trying to scrub something away. "Pathetic, screwed up, insecure," she mumbled. "My brain is a fucking maze. I just go around and around in circles, trying to just do what I'm supposed to do, just trying to be okay—but like, how am I supposed to be okay? After the things we've seen and the shit we've lived?" She looked at Dean and begged him for help. "I didn't pick this life. I didn't. But I can't do anything else—I don't know anything else except ripping and tearing and being covered in blood." She shut her eyes in agony for a quick second. "And sometimes, I like it. Which scares the shit outta me. I don't wanna be who I am. I'm a killer. And not just monsters anymore, either."

Guilt filled her tear-stained face. "Jamie shouldn't have done what she did for me, how am I supposed to deal with the fact I killed her brother and maybe killed her too? We don't know if she's okay. We don't!" Dean opened his mouth to stop her, but Alex kept going. "You know, I spent the whole year thinking I got Sam killed, that it was my fault for being stupid and saying yes to Lucifer—and it was, you know? Cuz if I didn't do that, Sam might still be Sam. Do you realize that? Your 'precious baby sister' does nothing but screw up!" She was sneering through the tears now. "Come on, you gotta hate me deep down, Dean. I held you back for years. You gave up so much for me and Sam, but especially me. You never would've stayed with Lisa this whole past year if I hadn't left. You wouldn't have." She was becoming angry now. "And you know what? We shouldn't need each other like we do. You and I are so screwed up. Did you know this whole year I never went more than a hundred miles away from you? I felt too scared to! I mean, what the hell, right? I checked on you constantly, I called Lisa's house hoping you'd answer just so I could hear you ask hello..." Dean was stunned at the confession, but Alex wasn't done—she was miserable. "I worked on cars like you do, I watched all the stupid shows you and I used to be into. Sometimes at night, I pretended you were just out running errands or, or doing a job and would be back soon. So that I could feel less alone. Less scared. I just wanted things to be like they used to be and god... I'm so terrified of being alone."

She sank down to sit down there beside the Impala, weary and drained from her curse-compelled confession. Dean slowly sank to a crouch beside her, not sure what to do. She just stared blankly through blood-shot eyes into the empty space in front of herself. "I spent the year thinking Cas just left me like everyone else always did, and it was hell. My life, this year. Was hell." She sobbed softly and put her face in her hand. "B-before him, no one but you ever made me feel like I was someone worth having around. And I don't know where he and I stand anymore and it scares me so fucking bad. I don't know what I'm doing. I just wanna know it's all gonna be okay." A fat tear rolled down her cheek and she shut her eyes in pain. "I feel like I lost him somehow. I feel like I lost everything." She looked at Dean with utter openness on her face. "Dean, I'm in love with Cas, I love Cas, and he's—he's my—" she closed her eyes and struggled, suddenly and violently biting her tongue—she made a sound of pain and cupped a hand to her jaw.

"You okay?" Dean asked, confused. She kept her mouth clamped shut, grabbed his wrist and tapped his watch, indicating he look at the date. Huh? Dean squinted at the date… and then realized. "May fourth. Shit." He'd forgotten their birthday! It had been two days ago and he hadn't even thought about it for a second. He'd never, ever done that before—he'd always gone out of his way to make the day special because Dad had always forgotten. Dean's heart sank. "I'm sorry, Al, I dunno how that happened."

She gave a blank shrug, holding a hand against her jaw and cheek. She appeared to be very, very shaken. "Please don't ask me anymore questions," she murmured in a heartbreaking rasp. "I... I really didn't wanna tell you any of that." Dean didn't know what to say at all—he felt bad, and he was kind of stunned about everything she'd just let fly. She had never told him that much personal stuff all at once. It was a lot for him to process and he saw how upset she was that he'd gotten truth from her in the way he had. Maybe he shouldn't have used the curse to his advantage like that.

A tall guy suddenly walked around the back of the Impala and peered down at them. "Hey! You two gonna sit around all day?" Sam asked, jerking his thumb toward the road. "We have a case to work."

Dean didn't have any fire left to snark off at Sam with. "Yeah, uh… we'll be right there," he said, then took a look at his miserable sister. "Actually, know what? You go on and head back in Al's car. She's riding with me back to the motel."

Sam looked at Alex's stony, tear-soaked face and nodded, seeming mildly concerned. "Yeah, okay." And he left.

Dean stood up, holding out his hands to his sister. "Come on, sparky. Up'n at em." She took his hands grudgingly and he could tell she was embarrassed about everything she'd told him. Once she was full height, Dean put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, letting his tone and expression convey how much he meant it: "You were never a burden. You hear me? Never. More like partner in crime or best friend. And both those things kick ass." He squeezed for emphasis. A muscle jumped in her jaw and her face worked oddly as the emotional storm clouds parted a little. But she said nothing… probably afraid to blurt out more uncomfortable truths. Dean decided for now to let all that heavy stuff go. "Wanna stop somewhere for a milkshake?" he asked. Her favorite.

She shrugged, still down in the dumps. "That's what I thought," Dean said in a way lighter tone than he felt, actively working to sweep everything that had just happened under the rug for the time being. "Milkshakes, here we come."

---

The Winchesters met up back to the motel room then changed out of FBI stuff and into more everyday wear. Alex went mostly silent after figuring out that any time she spoke to Dean, a rude or embarrassing truth popped out. Dean went between feeling bad for misjudging his brother to remembering Alex's confession and feeling bad. Focusing on the job wasn't the easiest for Dean given all that but Sam took lead, which helped. Sam showed him the box Alex had found in Corey's bedroom. In it, a cat's skull, grains of paradise seed, and devil's shoestring. Corey apparently had become obsessed with finding out the truth after discovering her boyfriend had cheated and Sam found out that the three elements stored in that little box of hers were used for a spell to invoke Veritas—the goddess of truth—who didn't just give you the truth. She slammed you with it until she got her tribute. Sam was pretty sure that those vanished bodies of the suicide and murder victims must have been what Veritas had taken as payment for her truth services.

Once they realized that, they also quickly realized they had to take her out—Dean was on the menu, after all, after having invoked the truth without entirely meaning to. With some more research about Veritas's personality and traits according to lore, they put together a pretty good profile: her Achilles heel was dogs, she hated deception and lies, loved truth and loved giving truth—and could see everyone's darkest secrets the instant she looked into their eyes—however she was demanding and self-worshiping—as Dean put it, an attention whore.

After the group figured out who was behind everything, they needed to identify her specifically. Dean chanced it all on a hunch: he'd noticed all these posters and news spots around town with this local news anchor Ashley Frank the past day or so here in Calumet City. She had a show called Frank Talk which focused on revealing the truth within the media.

Dean convinced Sam and Alex to back him up on this one and see if there was anything to see. The twins went with it—they didn't have any other leads, after all. They staked out the news station and waited for the young news anchor to leave for the day. She was very pretty, brunette, and drove an expensive looking red convertible. Under the cover of darkness, they followed her to a ritzy house—it was enormous and modern with an all-glass front.

Parked off at a discreet distance, the Winchesters watched from the Impala as Ashley Frank walked into the house and switched on the lights.

"If you're right about this," Sam said, "we'll be ready." He handed Dean a hunting knife soaked in blood, then Alex one as well. He had one too.

"What's on this?" Dean asked hesitantly.

Sam glanced his way. "Dog's blood."

Dean balked. "...Do I even wanna know where you got this?"

"Probably not."

"Ugh…" Dean grimaced at his knife then glanced into the rearview at his sister, contemplating her for a few seconds. "Ready?"

She gave a tense nod, catching his gaze briefly in the mirror. She hadn't said anything out loud for hours. The three of them got out of the car, skirted the house, and peered in through the large glass pane walls. Ashley had disappeared further into the house. Without hesitation, Dean used his knife to jimmy the front door lock. It took him a couple seconds and they were in. Sam followed, Alex behind, an uncertain look on her face—she wasn't as sure about this as Dean was.

The house was lavish and minimalist all at once, the architecture was extremely expensive looking. It didn't look lived in really. And it didn't look like an evil villain's lair, either. "Looks normal enough to me," Sam murmured, voicing Alex's thoughts. "No dead bodies anywhere."

A cat ran by, the bell on her collar tinkling lightly. She scurried around a corner and Dean looked at his siblings in turn, shrugging mildly, indicating that they follow. The cat scampered down a grand staircase that went into a darker, lower level of the house. At the foot of the stairs was a stone mosaic of Veritas—they'd seen one like it on the internet. Dean pointed at it and looked at his siblings as if to say see? Told ya.

Huh. So this was the right place. And when they rounded another corner, they realized that all the more. In the dim basement there were several very disturbing, half-pulled apart, mutilated bodies. Two were on two separate gurneys, another laid mostly consumed off in a corner, another was hanging from a hook over what looked like an empty in-ground hot tub. The body was beheaded with the skin torn off.

"You came for dinner," came a soft feminine voice. As the three Winchesters turned they saw Ashley Frank—only, she was now dressed in a goddess's raiment. Before they could react at all, she raised a hand and waved it, and with it came a devastating blow—they went hurtling across the room and crashed into the hanging, dismembered torso. Alex hit her head on a marble stair of a drained spa below, and everything went black.

The next thing she knew, she was coming to with her hands tied behind her back against a metal pole. Across from her, Dean was tied up and still unconscious, his head lolling down onto his chest. Sam was tied to a third metal pole to Alex's left. He was already awake and caught her eye, silently communicating stay sharp. They were in what had once been an in-ground spa, but it no longer had water in it. Above their heads, the bloody torso hung. Alex looked at it and groaned softly against the pain in the back of her head. Not good. Her knife was gone—she recognized the loss of its weight at her hip. Across from her, Dean was regaining consciousness slowly.

Veritas was over at the gurney, but turned her head and looked at them with a smile. She wore a beautiful silk dress the color of gold, and priceless, ancient-looking ornaments were pushed into her dark hair. "Mm. Sit tight," she purred, then pointed at Dean flirtatiously. "You're up next." She turned back around, returning to fuss over the mutilated corpse in front of her.

Sam was wiggling around a little and Alex looked at him with a scowl. What was he doing? Then she remembered how he kept a switchblade up his jacket sleeve. He must be cutting his ropes. Alex glanced at the goddess again, wondering how fast Sam could discreetly get out of his bindings.

Veritas opened the mouth of her most recent victim—the dentist, Alex was pretty sure—and with pinchers, pulled his tongue straight out of his mouth. It came out with a sickening squelch as she pulled, ripping it. She turned around and smirked at them, showing off her prize. "The tongue... is the tastiest part. It's where the lies roll off." She raised the tongue to her lips and took a big bite, enjoying it immensely. Dean, sickened, closed his eyes even as Alex averted her gaze with a repulsed face. "Mmm. Mmm!" Veritas smiled then swallowed, looking at all of the Winchesters in turn. "I cannot wait to eat yours. I mean, I've seen liars before, but you three? Gold standard." She laid down the pinchers and sauntered around the edge of the spa. Alex looked at Sam meaningfully. Hurry.

"Point of professional pride," Dean quipped, giving Veritas his best die in a fire smile. Their eyes met.

"I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you, Dean," Veritas said, matching his smile with one of her own. "You know what happens when you base your life on lies, right? The truth comes along and… makes things really interesting indeed." Her eyes slid to Alex's and Veritas smirked when the eye contact was made. "So, while you've still got your tongues… let's play a little game of truth or truth, hmm?" She leaned against one of the floor-to-ceiling columns that connected to the pole Alex was tied to. She was tall and beautiful, her figure was like an hourglass. Dean rolled his eyes and looked away.

Veritas crouched down beside Alex and took hold of her chin, forcing her to look at her. The little smile on the goddess's face grew, as if she were delighted. "Alex. Oh… you're holding onto a good one, aren't you?" Baleful, Alex glared, but Veritas placed a cool finger to Alex's lips briefly. "Think I'll save the best for last. Drop that bombshell as our grand finale."

Veritas stood even as Dean fixed her with a pissy stare. "You can relax, cat woman," Dean spat. "She already told me everything."

How cute, Veritas seemed to think and she chuckled, walking down a stair to sit beside Dean. "No. Not everything. There's one more thing she reaaally doesn't want you to know..." Dean frowned, looking at Veritas and trying to gauge if what the goddess was saying were true or not. Alex shriveled, panicking internally. This was not how she wanted her brothers to find out her deepest secret. "But, all in due time," Veritas said, her voice low and smooth. "First… Dean. I think it's your turn to spill some, being the oldest and all. What should we ask Dean first, hmm? Something... personal?" She looked at Sam pointedly. "About you?" She fixed Dean with that maddening, cool gaze. "Hey, Dean, I'm curious. What do you really feel about your brother?"

"Better now," Dean answered, given no choice but to reply. "Before I found out the truth, I wanted to kill him in his sleep." Both Sam and Alex were surprised at the brutal answer. Dean's jaw was tight. "I thought he was a monster. But now I think… he's just acting like me." Dean looked at Alex. "And just like her."

"What do you mean?" Veritas encouraged.

"It's the gig," Dean continued. "You're covered in blood until you're covered in your own blood. Half the time, you're about to die. Like right now. I told myself I wanted out... that I wanted a family."

"But you were lying," Veritas said, her voice curling around the word 'lying' with distaste.

"No," Dean said. "But what I'm good at... is slicing throats. I ain't a father. I'm a killer. And there's no changing that. I know that now."

"How bad, exactly, is the drinking, Dean?" Alex suddenly asked, drawing three surprised looks. Veritas was delighted.

"Interesting question, little sis!" the goddess gushed, then looked at Dean commandingly. "Answer."

"Way too much," Dean answered, and he was supremely guilty about it. "I can finish fifth in a day no problem, sometimes more. Anything to numb the guilt. I can't stop. And trust me, I've tried."

"Hm," Veritas cocked her head to the side, looking Dean over with that little smile on her face. "This is good. What else should we ask oldest brother? Oh, I know. Why is it, Dean, that you have such a huge problem with the idea of your sister and the angel, hmm?"

Dean's expression clouded over. "He's older than dinosaurs. Literally. And I dunno if he's trustworthy, if he can take care of her. I should be the only man in her life, as fucked up as that sounds—because I've been watching her back from day one, and I don't trust anyone else to do that. Period. I dunno what it is he sees in her except naive innocence and a huge crush he can take advantage of." Alex felt wholly insulted, but Dean wasn't done. "And I worry that he's like me: I know how to pick women who look at me and feel sorry for me. They have sex with me, I use them to feel better about myself and then I leave 'em. I never stay and I never follow through. I tried to with Lisa and I guess I couldn't. All I've ever done is use women for what they could give me. And I don't want some jackass like me to ever do the same thing to my sister."

Alex stared at her brother in mild shock. He was looking down and shaking his head, rueful about what he'd just been forced to say. Veritas patted his shoulder patronizingly. "How sweet." She studied him a beat longer. "Tell us how you feel about this Lisa woman."

"I feel like our best times were years ago. Like I care about her a lot but... end of the day, I don't really know why we're even together." Dean appeared stunned at his own admission and visibly reeled.

"Charming," Veritas commented in a sweet and mocking tone, then stood and began to approach Sam. "So, Sam walking back into your life must have been a relief. Hmm? The three amigos, together again? And how do you feel about the band getting back together, Sam?" She took a seat next to him and Dean seemed to dread his brother's answer.

"Look... what we do... is hard." Sam hesitated. Dean was looking over at a large metal hook that laid on the ground nearby, discarded. Alex followed his gaze as Sam kept speaking. "But… we watch out for each other. And that's what's important. And that's it. That's the truth."

Veritas looked at him strangely, almost angrily. "No. No, it's not." She stood up slowly, looking at Sam with an absolutely astonished expression." How are you doing that?" She demanded, her temper rising. "That's not possible. You're lying to me!"

"No, I'm not!" Sam said, matching her anger with some of his own.

"What are you?" Veritas looked at Dean wrathfully. "What is he?!"

Dean and Alex gaped. "I don't know what you're talking about!" Sam said, his voice growing louder.

"Really? I doubt that," she snarled, "I doubt anything that comes out of your mouth right now. You're not human!"

"What?" Dean asked softly, eyes wide.

Veritas looked at him in a fury. "You didn't know? Now, that I believe." Without warning, Sam suddenly stood, snapping his ropes and tossing his switchblade to Dean, who managed to get it with a great stretch. He sawed at his ropes vigorously as Sam leapt for the knives Veritas had confiscated. He got knocked aside but valiantly tried again, leaping for the gurney where the knives waited. The second he got his hands on one, Veritas knocked him down with a one-two punch, then jumped on top of him and closed her hands over his throat harshly.

"Dean, hurry!" Alex urged with growing alarm even as he got through his ropes. He slid the knife to her hand and scrambled for the hook he'd spotted. Alex got a grip on the knife and worked on awkwardly cutting at her ropes as fast as possible. Sam's gasps of protest filled the basement as Veritas choked the life out of him, but Dean rushed her and swung the hook down, impaling Veritas from behind with it—she whirled and her human face was replaced with a monstrous one. She hissed, making to attack Dean—then found the dog's blood soaked knife in her heart, courtesy of Sam. With a cry of surprise, the goddess collapsed and fell halfway into the spa, her body laying upside down on the stairs there just as Alex got free to stand up. She stood up in the middle of the sunken spa, shocked and staring at her brothers, the switchblade in her hand forgotten momentarily.

Dean held his knife out toward Sam threateningly as he stood up panting. "Dean, it's me." Sam held his hands out to show that he meant no harm.

Dean began to move forward and Sam edged back. Alex took two steps toward and Dean shot her a deadly serious look. "Stay there, Alex." The tone in his voice stopped her cold. "You are not my brother," he said to Sam, who backed up cagily.

"Just listen," Sam said, holding his hands out even further.

"What are you?!" Dean demanded thunderously. "Tell me before I cut your lungs out!"

Sam began to back up to edge around the spa. Alex turned with them, her position in the middle of the spa seeming oddly vulnerable to her. "I'm me, Dean," Sam rushed, getting nervous at the look in Dean's eyes and the knife in his hand. "Look, please, just let me explain!"

"Why the hell should I believe anything you say?" Dean asked. There was murder in his voice.

Sam glanced sidelong at Alex, and without warning he suddenly jumped down, grabbed her roughly and yanked the switchblade from her. With brute strength, he pulled her against him to face Dean, and held the sharp tip of the knife there against her neck hard—all within the span of three seconds. Breathless and horrified, Alex was shocked into silence.

"Back off me, Dean!" Sam demanded intensely, and he sounded crazy enough to actually try something—Alex felt the switchblade press in a little more to her neck—her adrenaline went wild. "Drop the knife!"

"Hey, hey, take it easy!" Dean exclaimed in fearful horror, immediately laying his knife down and raising his hands. "Don't hurt her, Sam!"

"Sam! What are you doing?!" Alex protested against the bruising pressure of the knife at her neck. She could feel against her back how his heart was actually picking up a little—he really was afraid, but she didn't know of what.

"Okay, okay," Sam said, panicking, trying to convince Dean of something. "You want the truth?! Here it is, here it is. God's honest! Veritas was right. There's something wrong with me, really wrong. I've known it for a while. I lied to you both. And… yeah, I let Alex get turned by that vamp. Because I knew there was a cure, Dean, and we needed in that nest! And I knew you guys could handle it!"

"Handle it?!" Dean asked, enraged. "She almost died, Sam! I could've died! I could've killed Ben!"

Sam shook his head, at his wit's end. "And that should stop me cold. But I—I just don't feel it. I mean, look at me!" He indicated what he was doing to his twin. "Would I have done this before? No! I know I wouldn't! But ever since I came back, I can't feel anything. Nothing! I don't know what's wrong with me. I think... I need help."

Dean suddenly went calm. Too calm. He nodded and considered. "Okay. We'll help you. Just… let her go, Sam." Sam hesitated and Dean repeated himself. "I'll help you. Just let her come up here, all right?" He made a come here motion and Sam let Alex go. She hurried up out of the spa even as Dean grabbed her and pulled her out. Sam stood there for a second as Dean looked his sister over then refocused on Sam. He kept that chillingly calm demeanor and smile up.

"Hey. All right, brother," he said. "Let's get through this together. Like we always have." Dean extended a hand to Sam, who hesitated, then took it. He looked hopeful, and Dean helped haul him up to stand at ground level. And then without warning, the second Dean had his brother where he wanted him, the rage he'd hidden came out. He hit Sam hard in the face and grabbed then rammed his wrist into the stone column hard enough that the switchblade dropped away. Dean let loose and sucker punched a stunned Sam, knocking him down to the ground. Dean followed him to the floor, grabbing him by his jacket and he viciously began to beat his brother to a pulp. He kept going even when he was unconscious, and Alex was freaking out completely.

"Dean! Stop! Stop!" She tried to pull him off, but he flung his arm out at her, his eyes were crazy, and she took a couple steps back. Dean was beating Sam to death, and Alex panicked. "C-Castiel, I need you to get down here right now!" she cried out, and almost instantly, he was there—a few feet in front of her. He immediately turned his head at the commotion Dean was causing and leapt into action when he saw what was going on. He yanked Dean off of Sam much like a mother cat carries a kitten—but instead of by the scruff of the neck, it was by the back of his jacket. Dean struggled uselessly at Cas's superhuman grip. "Get the hell off me!" He roared, and when Cas let go, Dean stood to his full height and straightened his jacket with an angry snap then leveled Cas with an angry glare and a disbelieving, baleful slow shake of the head. "You son of a bitch."

Cas wasn't looking at him—he was assessing Alex, who was standing off against one of the spa columns, appearing to be shaken up and out of sorts. "Hey!" Dean barked, demanding Cas's attention. He got it, but Cas remained where he was, standing between Dean and Sam.

"Dean, why are you beating your unconscious brother?" he asked, frowning deeply. He looked around at the bodies scattering the basement. "What happened here?"

"He's not Sam, Cas!" Dean thundered. "He looks like Sam and sounds like Sam but that ain't Sam!"

Cas frowned a little. "I can assure you. That is Sam."

Dean looked like he wanted to kill everyone. "Okay, listen here you ancient pervert—" he started.

"Dean!" Alex interrupted loudly with a warning look. This wasn't the time. She got an extremely petty face from her brother but she ignored him in favor of Cas, who was thoroughly confused. "Cas, can you take us to back to our room at the Jefferson Motel? One-twenty-one."

Without hesitation Cas did as she asked and Dean glowered silently first at the angel then at Sam, who was now on the motel room floor. "Don't hurt him, Dean," Alex warned as she saw the look in his eye. "That's still our brother."

"What do you mean, don't hurt him?" Dean asked, enraged again. "He was gonna hurt you!"

"What do you mean?" Cas asked lowly, looking at Alex for an explanation. Her gaze fell away from his and she absently rubbed her neck—the place where Sam had held the switchblade.

Dean was rounding on Cas angrily. "All right, look, Romeo. You're gonna stay until we figure out what the fuck is wrong with him! He let Alex get turned by those vamps, he friggin' threw me to them too, and then he has the balls to try and hold her hostage with a knife at her neck...? No. No, no. No. Not okay. Nothing that has happened today is okay with me." He cast an angry glare around the room. "I need some fucking ropes to tie this psycho up," he muttered, then looked at Cas with an ugly expression again. "You wanna go get the Impala for me, Casanova?"

"Could you use some goddamn manners, dude?" Alex asked, getting pissed. "Cas is not your butler."

He gave her a snide look. "You use some protection, I'll use manners."

Alex wilted then shook her head, disgusted with her incredibly childish brother. She met Cas's waiting gaze and nodded slightly, letting him know it was okay to go. Cas paused and she could see he was very disturbed. "I'll… be right back," he said, and Dean and Alex scowled at each other. It was all of two seconds before Cas reappeared. "Your vehicle is outside, Dean."

"Great, thanks," he said facetiously. "You always so fast?" Another immature, petulant dig that made Alex make quite the face. He stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind himself. God, grow up Dean. His behavior was ridiculous. But at least he was gone for a couple minutes. The rope was really deep down in the trunk.

Alex studied her twin's bloody face sadly, deep fear and worry making her stomach turn. She felt Cas's eyes on her and she met his gaze reluctantly. He seemed worried. "Are you all right?" he asked softly, approaching her, seeming to be disbelieving of what he'd heard. "Sam tried to hurt you?" He seemed unable to accept that almost but still looked her over carefully, as if he were looking for any signs of harm.

"Yeah, he did, I'll explain later. I'm okay." There were more important things she needed to tell her angel. She swallowed and glanced at Sam's unconscious form, just to make sure they weren't being eavesdropped on. He was still, but she lowered her voice anyway. "Cas… Dean found out about us." She realized she needed to be more specific about what he found out when Cas's expression registered a certain kind of shock and apprehension. "That we've been together," she clarified quickly. "It was the truth curse—it made me say a lot of stuff I really didn't wanna say. I couldn't not say it. I tried not to."

Cas nodded and took it in stride… then searched her gaze with growing anxiousness. "What else did he discover?"

Alex faltered, averted her eyes, and hedged. "That I didn't like any of the girls he ever dated and I threw his knife down a street drain?" She already knew that wasn't what he had been asking, and when she peeked up at him, she saw the telltale signs of very great worry in his eyes.

"But not..." he trailed off meaningfully, seeming as hesitant to discuss this as she was. His eyes dropped to her penny necklace and automatically, almost protectively, her fingers came to touch the cool circle of copper briefly. Their eyes locked again.

Alex pressed her lips in together, the picture of uncertain. "No. He stopped me before I could say it. I almost did, though. A couple of times." If Dean hadn't cut her off like he had those two times, if she hadn't literally bitten her tongue to keep from saying it... Dean probably would have thrown punches or knives at Cas, not just petty insults.

Cas thoughtfully took one of her hands, just the fingertips, gently in one of his own. Silently reassuring her and calming her. "If he knows about the, uh—intercourse—perhaps we should tell him the rest." He looked at her questioningly.

That seemed like the worst idea in the world to her. And besides… "Cas. We haven't even talked about… 'the rest,'" she said, lowering her voice to a intense, nervous whisper. It had been a year ago and during what they thought was the end of time. People did insane things when they thought the world was gonna end, but maybe she and Cas could win first place for their little foray into insanity. She looked away from his intense gaze because she felt like all of her inside thoughts were all over her face. "I mean, how would that conversation even go if we decided to tell him?" she asked, then tried spitballing it. "'Hey, Dean, by the way, remember the apocalypse? Remember when Cas lost all his angel powers and we thought he was pretty much human? Remember that day Cas and I just kind of went off and spent the night away?'" Alex looked up into his eyes, her heart hammering hard as she got ready to speak aloud the secret only they knew. "Call me crazy," she whispered, "but I just don't think he'd exactly jump for joy if we told him how we ran off and got married, do you?"

Castiel never got to answer.

Dean suddenly opened the door with a loud bang and paraded his ass back in, a huge coil of rope in hand. "All right, morons," he muttered peevishly, "this kid ain't gonna tie himself up."