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.

61. Get Well Soon

Song Remains the Same

Chapter 61 / Get Well Soon

"I've been waiting like a knife to cut open your heart and bleed my soul to you."
- Smashing Pumpkins

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This had to be some kind of record: Alex in the hospital three times in less than a space of a month. The first time had been after Glen's brutal assault on her. The second time had been after being un-vamped by Jamie. Now she was here because of Glen again… but this was the last time she'd never be in the hospital because of that asshole… Cas had made damn sure of that.

Dean hung back at the edge of the room and fidgeted his fingers around, rubbing his thumbs against his other fingers in anxious energy as he watched a nurse taking Alex's blood pressure. Sam was outside in the Impala babysitting Cas (who was still unconscious after his very thorough beatdown on Glen). They'd been in the emergency room for a couple hours now and Dean hadn't sat down the entire time. He'd paced around the room Alex had been put in to and watched as the nurses did what nurses did: bandaged, stitched, medicated. In between those things, the staff had given Dean some pretty suspicious looks and asked Alex who he was in relation to her, who or what had injured her like that, if there was domestic violence in the home… all of it was standard hospital procedure, but Dean recognized that the nurses suspected him of doing all that stuff to her.

She did look like a battered woman. There was no getting around that fact. She had a puffy black eye, stitches on the side of her temple, a big bandage on the side of her neck, bruises forming all over her jawline, cheeks, arms, a broken ankle. It looked so, so painful but she hadn't complained at all—she'd even joked around with the nurses a couple times, acting like it was no big deal. That's what was eating at Dean. It was a big deal. She could have died today if it hadn't been for Cas's intervention. Dean shifted and started pacing the small space again as he raked fingers through his hair. He couldn't get over how close of a call his sister had just had and how he should have told someone Glen might have still been alive. If he'd just told Cas when he first found out about it, today never would have happened. It was just another example of more bad decisions and stupidity on Dean's part. He wanted to kick himself in the teeth. He felt personally responsible for Alex being laid up in the hospital bed with all the surface injuries, rib contusions, a concussion, and the broken bone.

Dean remembered running up on the scene and not being able to believe his eyes. He hadn't really known what was happening at first, just saw Alex dazed on the ground and knew something bad was happening from the storm, the trees falling, the crackle of weird energy in the air. He'd crouched to pick her up and get her outta there… and that's when he'd seen Cas unleashing a bone-chilling assault onto Glen. He'd never forget the fury burning in Cas's face. Note to self: Don't piss Cas off unless you want to bite the dust… literally.

"Blood pressure's good," the nurse—short, distracted, with spiky peroxide-blonde hair—told Alex and pulled the noisy velcro wrap off her arm. "The doctor'll be in shortly, all right?"

Alex nodded, leaned back into the halfway reclined bed. "Thanks."

The nurse bustled out of the tiny room and Alex gave Dean a rueful smile. It must have been the worried look on his face that inspired her to tease him. "I look good, huh?" She pointed to one of the plastic chairs against the far wall. "Sit down, will you? You're gonna wear a hole in the floor."

Dean complied reluctantly, pulling the chair over near to the bed so he could sit beside her. As he sat down she sighed restlessly, fiddling with the hospital wristband that had been slapped on whenever she'd first been admitted. Of all things, she seemed impatient. Shouldn't she be freaking out? "I'm so hungry, damn," she muttered, thinking out loud.

Dean perked up. Finally, something he could do. "I'll get you something."

He made to stand, but the second he started to get up, she looked at him with her good, un-swollen eye. "No, wait a minute." He paused, drifting back into the seat. She was studying him and her eyebrows were drawing together in the beginning of concern. It looked like she was noticing something beyond what he was displaying on the surface. "What's wrong, Dean?"

The question startled him. What was wrong? So many damn things were wrong he could barely start to count them all, but the reasons started with her in the hospital bed and beat to hell by a guy Dean should have already taken care of. However, he didn't say that. He didn't say any of the truth, not really. It was his load to carry as the oldest: the problem with Sam and his soul or lack thereof, the worries about Alex and what happened today (not to mention her involvement with Cas). There were other things weighing on him, too. Lisa and Ben suddenly bowing out of his life, the bad vibes about Grandpa Campbell, the whole Jamie disappearing thing… everything felt up in the air and out of balance. Life was more chaotic and unstable than it had ever been and Dean couldn't hold any of the moving pieces together. Everything was scattered and messed up, a shell of what it'd been before. At least it'd been sorta consistent before, even if it hadn't been picket-fence perfect...

What was wrong? Alex was waiting for his answer and he tried to make it as vague as possible, tried a little everything's fine smile to hide his more dour thoughts. The smile didn't succeed. "Just… hate to see you here like this, I guess."

Her worry softened and she relaxed a little, giving him an offhand look at she batted something invisible away, brushing it off. "I'll be fine."

He looked down at the shining hospital floor underneath his feet then said it before he could stop himself. "Yeah, well, you almost weren't."

There was a short silence. "Dean." She sounded really grown-up and sympathetic, suddenly very serious and caring, almost parental. "You can't have eyes on me twenty-four seven. Don't beat yourself up."

Easy for her to say when she didn't know he'd known Glen might still be alive. He was too ashamed to tell her that. So he played the coward card. "Yeah," he dodged, miserable with himself and looking at his interlaced fingers that were clasped between his knees.

His sister watched him for a couple more silent seconds then let it go. She looked out the hospital room door and then craned her neck back to look out the window restlessly. She sighed in dissatisfaction and Dean knew what she was gonna ask before she even did. "Can you go check on Sam and Cas again?" She tried to sound less worried than he knew she was. She'd been more concerned about Cas than herself on the ride over, after all.

Dean had already been out there to check like seven times already at her request, and each time was the same. Sam in the front seat, distracted with researching potential jobs on his smartphone while Cas laid in the back of the car unresponsive and bloody. "Al… Sam knows to come in here the second Cas wakes up, all right?"

Gaunt worry filled Alex's face as she nodded reluctant acceptance and stared hard at the end of the bed. "If he wakes up," she said softly.

"Ah, he'll be fine," Dean said, not letting the mood get too heavy. "He always is, isn't he?"

She cut a hooded glance at him. "I guess."

Dean saw the opportunity for some information-gathering and casually transitioned the conversation that way. "He's somethin' else, huh," he ventured, trying to act nonchalant. "With the turn-you-to-smoke stuff and the destroy-the-rainforest crap…"

That definitely got her attention and had her looking at him questioningly. He wondered if she was freaked out at Cas's show of power. He couldn't really tell. "Yeah," she said thoughtfully, deeply reflective. "I've never seen him so…" she thought for the right word, "intense." That was one word for it. But she dismissed Dean's worries: "I guess there's a side of him we haven't seen much of."

Yeah, clearly. Dean was deeply unsettled. Her reaction wasn't really what he'd been looking for. She didn't seem to share his blossoming concern: What if they didn't know Cas well enough and what if they got on his bad side and what if a million other nerve-wracking scenarios…? All made worse by the fact that he knew Cas and Alex were having sex. Ah geez. He'd forgotten that for a few minutes. That complicated things and made him even more nervous about the future. Did the two of them think they were going to be a couple and stay together? Cas had claimed to love Alex last year and Dean had rolled his eyes at the time. Now he wondered. Or was it more like the two of them were just some kinda freaky friends with benefits? Dean wasn't sure if that was entirely possible with Alex's romantic dreamer side in consideration, but maybe he didn't know her like he thought. Maybe Cas had sex with lots of human girls now and Alex was just one on a long list. That idea was particularly stomach-turning. Was Cas respectful with her? That was what was most important to Dean.

This was one of those moments where Dean didn't feel like Alex's brother. He felt more like her dad and he wanted to make sure any interested man passed the test and had his sister's best interests in mind, wasn't just trying to use her to get some action. Alex could have been thirteen or thirty-nine and Dean would be acting the same way. Part of the reason, he guessed, was because she was so inexperienced with relationships that she might as well have been thirteen (in his mind, anyway). That, and Dean had been Alex's mouthpiece for so long growing up that he was used to calling the shots and making decisions for her. It was hard to step back, especially on big deals like this. Cas wasn't just a man. He was this super-powered being from another dimension and Dean had been well-reminded of the fact earlier that very day.

It was stressful (to put it mildly) when an angel who might as well be a demigod was interested in and possibly obsessed with your sibling. The angel seemed harmless enough in most moments: emotionally bumbling and socially awkward and a puppy dog when it came to some things. But he also had access to all that power and could clearly get very, very angry… was Dean really so insane to worry about Cas maybe, possibly, somehow hurting Alex someday? Wasn't it his job to look out for her and screen any guy she dated or involved herself with?

Dean realized he'd gone into a tense silence and his sister was looking at him oddly, like she was suspicious about what he was thinking. He wet his lips and tried to feel her out on his worries, see if she was at all concerned about what he was concerned about. "Listen. I'm glad he saved you," Dean said, and he was. "And I am glad that asshole Glen is dead." Glad wasn't a big enough word. "But I just…" he trailed off, not sure how to say it without sounding like an ungrateful jerk. "Doesn't it kinda freak you out how, how powerful Cas is?"

"Why? It freaks you out?" Alex paused, seeming to hear what he was implying immediately. "Dean… Cas would never hurt me."

He wanted to believe her, but he didn't know if he could, and he sure as hell didn't trust many people these days. "You sure about that?"

She didn't hesitate or waver. "Yes."

The hospital room went silent as Dean had an epiphany. It felt like this was The Moment all parents must have when they are struck out of nowhere by the realization that their child truly isn't a child anymore but an adult making their own decisions and living their own life. Looking at her now, he saw how confident she was of her answer and her belief that Cas would never hurt her. He saw how she'd made a decision all on her own without help from the family. It startled him, it took him aback, it made him realize she wasn't the kid he so often viewed her as. Disillusioned and struck by sorrow because he suddenly felt like he'd lost something, Dean remained silent. Damn. It hit him.

His voice was soft. "You really love him don't you?" Even before he'd finished asking it, he realized he already knew the answer. His question had Alex quiet, her expression soft. She didn't have to say yes out loud, but her face confirmed it completely.

There was a sound at the doorway of the room just then and they both looked up to see Cas holding himself up just barely with a hand against the door frame. He looked in bad shape—blood still on his face, shoulders heaving as he breathed raggedly from exertion.

"Cas!" Alex sat up immediately, about to jump out of bed (apparently forgetting her broken ankle), but Cas stumbled across the small space separating them and got to her before she could stand at all. He swept her into a tight, relieved embrace as she sat awkwardly in bed. She readily hugged him back and squeezed her eyes shut, her face buried in the front of his coat. Cas's hand held the back of her head and pulled her close.

Dean sat back with a slack jaw, unsure what to do at the public display of affection. The angel and his sister embraced like it had been years or like they had thought the other one was dead. Dean averted his stare and self-consciously rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at them briefly and uncomfortably. He forgot that the last time Cas must have seen her was when she was still on the ground and half-conscious. He must have been worried about her. Either way, they were oblivious to him for a few seconds, first hugging tightly then drawing back to look at each other in mutual concern—Alex touching fingers to the blood running down the side of Cas's head, Cas gingerly brushing a touch against her purple-and-blue bruised jawline where Glen's fist had clearly been. There was marked tenderness and affection in both of their touches.

Dean wanted to make a sound of annoyance or do something to express his discomfort and reservation. But he clamped his mouth shut, kept quiet, and said nothing, did nothing. Sam casually announced his presence by sauntering into the room at that moment. He glanced briefly up and over the top of his phone. "He's up."

No shit, Sherlock. "Yeah thanks," Dean retorted, standing up and purposefully trying not to look at Cas and Alex too closely. It was too weird for him. Way too weird.

"You still don't look all right," Alex was saying to Cas, her face a mask of worry. "Are you—"

She didn't finish her sentence—Cas put a hand to her face and tried to heal her but apparently didn't have the juice. He groaned in surprised pain and almost fell over onto her from the effect it had on him—Sam and Dean reacted fast and caught him by either arm just barely, steadying him. Cas had clearly been unprepared for what happened and maybe had even hurt himself worse by attempting to heal her. His face conveyed how taken aback he was. "I… don't seem to be at full capacity," he said in a strained voice, his eyes dazed and unfocused for a moment. He was leaning down, temporarily unable to stand fully. Dean and Sam helped, letting him sit on the tiny little hospital bed.

Full of concern, Alex held onto one of his arms once he was sitting near her, supporting him. "What happened to you?"

Dean frowned. He leveled Cas with a studious gaze. "Wait… you mean Glen didn't do this to you?"

In response to that question he received a look from Castiel that seemed to pose the sassy question are you fucking kidding me? "Of course not," the angel replied gruffly, as if suggesting such a thing were idiotic. "I was already injured beforehand. I was in battle." His expression grew pinched and harrowed as he thought deeply. "Daniel has somehow come into possession of the Horn of Joshua. It's a very deadly weapon. It killed many angels and very nearly killed me… he can't be allowed to keep it."

Although Cas said all of that in utmost earnestness, he seemed distracted and looked to Alex, more interested in her than in his own condition or plight. For a short silence they held each other's gaze, wordlessly communicating something Dean wasn't sure about. "Are your injuries very grave?" Castiel asked softly of her. He sounded pained on her behalf, which softened and touched Dean unexpectedly. She didn't get the chance to reply to him.

A new voice sounded as a burly, bearded doctor entered the room. "Hello folks!" he greeted, looking over the silver rims of round glasses as he sauntered in. "How's everyone doing today?" He smiled tightly and impatiently, as doctors do. He was already forming a new sentence, gesturing at Alex with his clipboard. "If I can, I need you gentlemen to leave the room a few minutes so I can speak with the young lady privately." He asked it pleasantly, that rigid little smile plastered on his face the whole time.

"Yeah, sure," Dean answered, even though he was in no hurry to leave at all. He was always suspicious when doctors wanted to talk to people in private.

"My goodness, looks like you were in a tussle too, fella!" the doc observed, taking in Cas's not-so-great appearance.

Dean pulled Cas up by an arm. "He's fine, just a few scratches," he said dismissively, pulling Cas along with him and out of the room in compliance with the doctor's request. Sam followed, nose already buried in his phone again. He wasn't even watching where he went and stopped walking altogether after a few steps, consumed in his phone screen.

Down the hall from Alex's room and out of earshot but not too far (still able to keep an eye on everything), Dean stopped, his hand still grasping the crook of Cas's arm for suppoert. The angel seemed to be able to walk, it was just done with some difficulty. Further down the hall, Dean glanced a vending machine. Remembering Alex's complaint of hunger, he decided he could maybe kill two birds with one stone. He cut a glance at Cas, who was staring back into Alex's room. "Did he hurt her very badly?" Cas asked anxiously, pausing Dean's plans for a minute.

The palpable worry was very striking and human. It made Dean falter a little, remembering what the angel had done for her. For a minute, he guessed he had to stow his inner grudge. "No, not too bad," he said, which obviously brought Cas some relief. "She's tough, Cas. She'll be okay. And, uh… a lot of that's 'cause of you and what you did, so, uh…" he let go of Cas's arm and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. "Good job." Not the best way of thanking someone for saving your sister from rape and murder… but Dean wasn't exactly great at saying thank you. He also still wished he'd been the one who had ripped Glen to shreds, so his pride was getting in the way a little bit.

Cas didn't see though. He was gazing in Alex's direction again. "As soon as I'm able, I'll heal her," he said.

Dean couldn't help himself. "Yeah, I've heard about how you like to lay hands on her," he muttered.

Cas's attention was finally diverted and a squinting frown overcame his face as his eyes crimped. "What?"

"Walk with me, Cas." Dean said gruffly, grabbing the angel's shoulder and steering him down the hall toward the vending machine. "We gotta talk." Cas half-limped half-shuffled and waited for Dean to speak. How did you even start this conversation? Dean jumped right into the deep end, figuring beating around the bush was a time waster. Still. It was about to get awkward. "So," he led off flatly, "my sister told me how you two are uh… doing the horizontal mambo."

Cas looked confused at the reference. "We've… never danced, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes and tried again. "Bumping boots?"

Cas looked down at his shoes, then at Dean with squinty eyes. "I don't understand."

Dean pulled an weary, exasperated face as they got to the vending machine. "Having sex, Cas."

Understanding flooded Cas's face. "Oh. Uh… yes." He was clearly abashed at the subject matter and Dean stared at him hard. Son of a bitch. "Dean, it was never my intention," Cas said in an earnest tone. "I didn't plan it. It just… it just happened."

"What, by accident?" Dean retorted sarcastically, then angrily scanned the vending machine contents for something to get for his hungry sister. He saw mini donuts and Bugles and pulled out his wallet, fishing for ones. He kept his voice gruff but didn't look at Cas as he asked the next question he had. "Who else are you having sex with?"

Cas was stunned by the question. "What?" His voice was filled with genuinely stark shock, like he couldn't believe Dean would think or ask that, like the thought of sex with someone other than Alex was a foreign concept to him. It caught Dean's attention. "No one," Cas told him. "Only her."

"Why just her?" Dean pressed, trying to find out the angle.

Again, Cas looked like he was mystified. He had to think for a minute—either because he was lying or because he had never stopped and thought it through. "I would never want to engage in the activity with someone else." Cas's discomfort speaking on the subject with Dean was pretty obvious, but he soldiered on. "Intercourse, as I understand it, is a way of expressing romantic love. Or at least that is what it is for me." Dean couldn't hide his surprise at Cas's startlingly earnest, romance-novel answer. The angel raised his chin slightly and held Dean's gaze without wavering. "I love her, Dean."

The angel's answers were increasingly surprising. "Love." He repeated blankly, looking at Cas closely for any hint of deception. He saw none, which was what threw him. This wasn't the first time Cas had claimed to love Alex but: "I thought you were incapable of love." Castiel had literally told Dean that he was without the capacity for love or romance last year. That's why Dean's eyes were narrowing mistrustfully.

Of all things, a fond yet rueful smile tugged at the corner of Cas's mouth as he looked down in faraway thought. "I was wrong."

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered, a mixture of pissed off and dazed. He wanted to be so much angrier than he felt, but he felt almost… impressed? This is what any guy in his right mind would want for his sister, right? Someone who thought sex was about love and love only? Someone who definitely and obviously cared, someone who came when she called and stood by her when she needed someone? No. I'm supposed to be pissed about this. But Dean felt more depressed than anything else. Was this how it felt to give a daughter away in marriage? A weird thought but Dean had it all the same. Cas and Alex would never get married of course, but this whole conversation felt to him like handing her over, giving her away, letting go of her. Except it was way after the fact and he was just finding out how deep in Cas and Alex were. He was unsettled because just like a week ago or whatever, Alex had said she didn't know where she and the angel stood. Well… that had changed. Something had happened between them yesterday, obviously, at the motel room. They'd made up or gotten back together or, or… something.

Needing a minute to figure out how he felt about the whole thing, Dean returned his attention to the vending machine and finally fed the bills in, pushing buttons in a haze. "So… you're telling me you and Alex are in some kind of relationship," he said woodenly as the donuts came free from the metal spiral holding them. He watched them fall in a tense trance. "Some kind of committed, monogamous relationship."

Cas watched the donuts too. "Yes."

Dean's jaw tightened and he poked the numbers for the Bugles a little harder than necessary. He didn't like them keeping this from him. His voice was tight. "Since when?"

There was a pause. "I'm… unsure of the exact time-frame." Cas looked distinctly guilty as his eyes jumped sidelong toward Dean. "Awhile."

Dean eyed Cas carefully, making sure Cas knew, from his gaze alone, how deadly serious he was about getting all the facts here. "Lemme put it this way," he said, stooping to grab the snacks out of the vending machine. He didn't wanna know this at all and at the same time he needed to know in order to better figure out Cas's motivations and see if he was really telling the truth. "When did you two first… get together?"

The immediate reaction on Cas's part was hesitance and unwillingness. "I'm not sure if—" he began.

"Just answer the damn question, Cas," Dean said flatly, almost threateningly. It was cocky as hell for Dean to demand things like that, but hey, that was just his personality. Plus, this was his sister they were talking about.

Cas was probably thinking about how easily he could turn Dean into dust even in his injured condition. But all he did was look down and think for a second before answering carefully. "The night when that woman Jane attempted to shoot Alex," he said quietly, which came as another shock-that-wasn't-a-shock to Dean. He remembered Cas taking the bullet for her, rescuing her from certain death. That made a lot of sense, honestly. Guy saves girl. Guy gets laid. Plus, Dean had seen them kissing not long after, maybe the next night. That had been awhile ago that it had all started, then. A couple months before the shit hit the fan with Lucifer and Sam. Geez.

"So you wanna tell me why you ditched out on her all year long, Cas?" Dean asked, voice growing bitter.

His question seemed to hit Cas hard. "I had no choice, Dean," he said heavily, with great remorse. "It was to protect her. I have many regrets regarding that." His mouth thinned a little and his gaze was tense. "Please believe me."

Dean shook his head slightly. Kinda hard to believe Cas, who was apparently a serial liar. Cas seemed to know what Dean would be thinking. "I know that I told you I wasn't able to even feel romantic feelings," he said. "I believed that, for a time. Or wanted to believe it." He paused warily. "Dean, I've struggled with this very deeply. I never meant to complicate things or overstep my bounds." Was that some kind of apology? There was a silence and Cas drew himself up a little bit. He took in a deep breath through his nose and gave the impression of resignation and authority. "But what's happened has happened. Alex and I are together. So I hope you'll understand and accept us."

At a slight loss, Dean openly gaped for a second at the terms Cas used and the assertiveness he used. Us. Together. It seemed so sudden and real and Dean was scrambling for footing, like the rug had been yanked out from underneath his feet. "H-have you two thought this through?" he asked, freaked out anew because of how final Cas sounded about it all. "I mean, you're both into it right now but… I dunno, you noticed how you're not a human and she is? Is this a, a long-term thing, and if so, how?" He wasn't trying to be a dick anymore. He really wanted to know how the hell Cas and Alex planned to continue this thing. Were they really that shortsighted? Didn't they see this could never end well? That the deeper in they went, the worse the heartbreak would be in the end? It filled Dean with so much foreboding.

"I've thought about this too, Dean." Cas's low, even voice surprised Dean. He seemed more grown up than Dean remembered. "After the war… perhaps I'll…" he trailed off introspectively, voice softening in thoughtfulness. "Perhaps I'll leave my old life behind."

Dean's eyebrows rose slowly at what Cas was implying. "You mean… become human?"

Cas's expression was far away in someplace fond and reflective, his eyes casting down the hallway toward Alex again. "It seems appropriate."

"…You'd do that for her?" Dean asked faintly, shocked all over again at the emotional depth in Cas's eyes, voice, and face.

At that question, Cas's gaze turned to Dean's somberly. "Dean, I would do anything for her."

Jesus Christ. What was going on? How was it that serious? Yet again taken aback, Dean was almost speechless. Cas wasn't joking or bluffing at all and Dean stumbled around verbally for a reply. "…You're serious right now, aren't you?" he asked in a shellshocked tone. He'd gone into this conversation with a lot of doubts and reservations and judgements and now had been slammed in the face with one clear fact: Cas really did seem to love Alex. To the point of sacrificing everything for her. Dean really didn't know how to take that. "I'll be damned," he breathed, then saw an opportunity for some dark humor. "Already was, actually. Maybe you remember."

Cas made one of his faces. "…That joke seems in bad taste."

The comment surprised him and almost made him smile. "Fair enough," Dean said, but his little smirk at Cas's comment was falling because he was worrying again over his sister's future and Cas's part in it. Yeah, Cas meant well and at least had some kind of super-attached feelings for her… but what if Cas was confused? What if he ended up letting Alex down like every other damn person in the world did? What if he got tired of her or bored with sex or led astray by some other pretty face? What if his feelings changed? What if he left her and shattered her dreams? What if he couldn't follow through in the long run? His sister didn't need that shit. Not after Dad, not after a lifetime of disappointments and watching the only people she loved walk out.

But Dean had learned a lesson the year that he'd been alone and without his brother and sister. He'd learned that Alex had a limit for his bullshit and that if he tried to run her life, she'd bail. She obviously had huge feelings for Cas. She was already involved with him, deeply. And Dean realized he could do nothing but accept it if he wanted to be part of her life. Still, his instincts were nerve-wracked and he had so many damn doubts about this. "Can I trust you with her, Cas?" he asked, putting his honest feelings on the line for a short, rare moment. This was possibly the most terrifying thing he'd ever faced: entrusting his sister to someone other than himself. "I mean, really really trust you," he clarified in a weakening voice. "I always promised myself I'd be dead before I let anyone hurt her. And I know she's way into you, like at epic fangirl levels so… if you're gonna be with her—which you already are—promise me you'll treat her right, man." There was a lump in his throat. "I mean like a friggin' princess."

Cas saw Dean's emotions below the surface and his face knit into a concerned expression. "Dean—what is it?"

Dean tried to maintain his composure and not give away how torn up he was over this. "I just… I'm having a hard time with this, Cas," he admitted, trying to scoff it off and shrug it away. But he was having a hard time with this, and he knew it came through in his voice and demeanor.

It was just… for almost thirty years Dean had seen Alex every single day, had been connected to her and she to him. He knew her better than anyone else in the world. Better than Sam, better than Dad. He'd imagined he'd always be her caretaker, back in the days when she'd been mute and needed so much extra help and support. He'd been willing to be that caretaker. In fact, he'd accepted that as his role in life. When she got her voice back just in time for him to die and go to Hell, he'd thought at least she has a chance at something normal now. And at least I did my job while she needed me.

Now what? Sam needed him, maybe—what with the whole soulless issue. But Alex was growing up. Becoming an independent person. She was choosing Cas. And no wonder. Dean thought of how Cas had been the one who stayed with Alex and gotten her through demon blood withdrawals. How he'd saved her life many times over, healed her injuries time and time again, rescued her from mutism, taken a bullet for her, saved her from Zachariah, saved her from Glen, saved her from Nandriel, brought her back from the grave itself. There wasn't really an end to Cas's devotion, the more Dean thought about it. And because of those things, Alex clearly looked to Cas for comfort and safety. Cas was Alex's hero, he realized. Dean used to be her hero. I'm being replaced. But maybe it was the right thing. Maybe this was growing up. Maybe this was good for her, for the family. Maybe this was just part of it.

Dean just wanted to clutch both his siblings to himself where they would be safest. There were too many unknowns out there in the world. Too many things that could hurt them.

Cas seemed to understand and empathize in some small way with Dean's struggles. "You can trust me, Dean," he assured. "I have nothing but her best interests in mind. I'm committed to her and only her."

Dean was still so wary, but he couldn't do anything about it either way. "Okay, well… that's great," he said tiredly, mind turning to something else that needed discussion. "But listen, you should know better, man. I mean, she said you two've never used protection even once. That's gotta change, you hear me?"

A puzzled expression overtook Cas's face and he misunderstood. "I always have my angel blade with me," he said, to which Dean's face fell. Oh my god Cas, how dumb can you be. Dean all but face-palmed. Cas seemed to understand then. "Oh—you mean birth control." He paused and gave Dean a highly significant look. "There's no need." Dean frowned, not getting it. No need…? The look Cas was giving Dean suddenly made the hunter balk. What, Cas could control that or something?

Apparently so. Dean was deadpan. Built in baby-proofing. "Well. I've heard everything now." He threw a hand up a little, not sure what else to say, then rubbed her fingertips across his forehead wearily. What a day this had been. Scratch that… what a week. Finding out about Cas and Alex, finding out about Sam's soullessness… just to start. "Look, I'm still on the fence about this," he told Cas, then let his hand slap down as he sighed and looked down the hall at Alex's room. They could see in the open doorway and saw the doctor nodding and getting ready to leave her. "But I also know you make her happy," Dean admitted heavily, glancing at Cas with hooded eyes. "Can't knock you for that." It was like pulling teeth to do this. "And uh, about what you did for her today…" He paused stiffly. "I owe you."

Graciously, maybe not even on purpose, Cas sidestepped the compliment and the thanks Dean was so uncomfortably trying to give. "You don't owe me anything."

Castiel: Angel of the Lord. General weirdo. And maybe not half bad.

Dean realized he liked Cas more than he wanted to despite everything. Maybe this wasn't as terrible as he thought. It wasn't exactly what he'd envisioned for his sister, but… it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Dean stuck his free hand out. A peace offering. The mature thing to do. "I think I owe you a handshake at least," he said. Cas took his hand slowly and grasped it firmly, his expression showing mild suspicion, like he didn't understand how this could actually be Dean's reaction. Despite everything, Dean smiled a little, thinking about how far Cas had come in the time they'd known him. The guy was loyal, he'd give him that much. And he had saved Alex so many times that Dean had lost count. "You're… an okay guy, Cas," he said, letting go of Cas's hand.

Cas glanced at the hospital room again and Dean sighed to himself. He could see how his sister was craning her neck to look down the hall and Cas peered down the hallway at her anxiously. The two of them were of a one track mind, it seemed. Dean thumped the angel on the back and slapped the vending machine snacks into his chest. When Cas looked at him questioningly, Dean jerked his head in Alex's direction. "Trust me man, she's dying to see you. Why don't you take her this stuff." Cas's hands accepted the crinkling packets and Dean said what took a lot of grace on his part: "I'll… I'll give you two a minute."

Cas seemed touched by Dean's gesture. "Thank you Dean."

"Yeah, whatever," Dean retorted, his face wan with chagrin. No chick flick moments. Reluctantly, he gestured Alex's way. "Go get 'er, tiger." Cas took a moment more to look at Dean as if waiting for the catch or the 'just kidding.' When neither came, Cas started off.

It was then that Dean let him know one last thing. "And Cas." The angel stopped and turned to look at Dean. With a pleasant smile that ironically held a tone of warning to it, Dean raised a finger. "I'll kill you if you ever hurt her." It was said jokingly and Cas looked at Dean oddly, probably unsure of how to respond. Dean let his teasing demeanor fall. "But seriously. Kill you." He pointed at Cas to let him know he meant business, then waved him along.

Cas looked unsure of how to take Dean's casual threats. However, he obviously had other things on his mind and headed into Alex's room.

Dean remained where he was. A year ago, he never would have stood for this. And now here he was accepting it. Forcing himself to accept it. For now, at least, despite the still-present feeling of unease in the lowest pit of his stomach. Please, please don't let this be a mistake, the two of them together. Dean knew that when Cas wasn't upsetting Alex with his unexplained absences, he made her happy for whatever reason. That's what worried him. The Winchesters never got happy endings. The people they surrounded themselves with got picked off by cruel fates one by one. Maybe that's what rubbed Dean wrong about this whole thing. Something good now meant something far worse later.

Sam brushed past Dean and said something about needing his phone charger. Dean watched his brother walking away and realized he was in the middle right now and had a decision to make. Alex had Cas. Who did Sam have? After everything Sam had done recently to endanger their sister, something had to change, and soon. The current arrangement just didn't work.

---

Alex was glad when the doctor finally left and stopped pestering her with questions and diagnoses. She'd seen Dean and Cas talking down the hall intently in between the doctor's droning, which had only served to vex her. Knowing her brother, it was something related to what he'd found out recently.

So the second she saw Cas coming her direction, she sat up rapidly. Dammit, she wanted to stand up and go to him but her broken ankle wouldn't allow it.

"You okay?" she asked before he was even fully in the room. He was walking oddly and blood still ran down the side of his face. He looked really hurt, and Alex always worried when he got injured enough to bleed. He wasn't supposed to bleed. It had gotten so bad that Alex had thought she was about to see Cas die at Glen's hand.

"Yes, fine," he said, and with a grunt, he sat down with a wince into the chair that had been pulled up beside the bed.

"You don't look fine," she observed, face filled with worry as she looked him over closely.

"It's nothing," Cas said, attempting to stifle a wince. He held out two packets to her. Mini powdered donuts and Bugles. Alex took them slowly. "Dean said you were hungry," Cas explained.

Ah ha. She smiled a little. "Thanks," she said, and set the food items aside. She was hungry but it would have to wait. Her anxiety took away her immediate appetite, anyway. She glanced out the doorway again and saw how Dean about twenty feet down the hall standing around aimlessly with hands in his pockets. Was he just… giving her and Cas space? That was weird. A little doubtful and uneasy about what was happening, Alex looked at Cas for answers. "You guys talked awhile…?" she started, prompting him to share what had been said. Cas's face showed slight apprehension and Alex's protective instincts reared up. "On a scale of one to ten, how mean was he?" She was halfway between joking and serious. "I don't care if my ankle's messed up, I will kick his ass if he was a dick to you."

"He wasn't." Cas's quiet answer surprised her. His bright blue eyes met hers, startling her with their intensity. He'd seemed sort of absent until this moment, but suddenly he was there with her in every way. He was like that sometimes. You never knew when he was going to suddenly get almost too intense to handle. He reached out and took her hands into his, letting their hands rest on her lap together. "He had some questions about our relationship and certain aspects of it," Cas explained slowly.

Of course he did. Alex let out a gusty sigh and looked down, ready to turn red. Cas wasn't always one for tact or subtlety. Had he told Dean private details about their relationship? Had he said things that Dean didn't need to know?

"I didn't tell him about… everything," Castiel told her meaningfully, his eyes briefly lowering to the little penny necklace circling to her neck. Alex's eyes raised to his from beneath her lashes. His hands tightened on hers just a little and Alex remembered her bloody and beaten appearance because of the pained way he was looking at her. "I was very careful not to say anything you wouldn't like for Dean to know," he said quietly, apparently knowing how she'd worry he would have given away private things.

Alex felt a helpless little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she imagined it: In the old days, before he'd begun to learn discretion, Cas might have innocently and bluntly told Dean something like 'yes, we are having sexual relations, Dean. I highly enjoy penetration and so does your sister.' Imagining what Dean's reaction to that was pretty hilarious.

Unaware of Alex's inner thoughts, Cas studied their hands with gentle eyes. "But I think he understands now that you and I…" his eyes raised to hers, "are together."

Her amusing thoughts about Cas explaining sex things forgotten, Alex was fully taken aback. "What, and he's just… okay with it?" The way Cas said it seemed final. Like Dean had accepted it or something. There had to be some missing detail. Alex glanced at Dean again who was just out there staring at his feet idly. Her stomach flip-flopped. No way.

Cas turned his head to look down the hall toward Dean. "He's trying very hard to accept us, I think."

Alex took several seconds. She remained highly skeptical, making several very different and interesting faces as she considered the possibility. No. No way. "It's gotta be a trick," she said warily. Right?

Cas seemed to consider, then shook his head. "I don't think it is," he said, looking her over closely, sympathy filling his gaze. "Are you in very much pain?"

Always with the worry over her pain level. She smiled at him, bittersweet and affectionate. "I've had worse." Her smile fell as she thought back over the crazy day. Her heart ached with strong emotions that she couldn't quite name or fathom. "Cas, what you did today…" she started. Her voice weakened on the word 'today', then faltered completely.

Cas's face was filled with an emotion that was like the ghost of righteous anger. His eyes burned with dark earnestness. "I never want to see you hurt." There was that intensity again, and at such powerful levels too. Alex would never want to be this angel's enemy. His eyes promised wrath upon those who would go against him. She knew the extent of his gentleness from personal experience… but today had seen exactly how terrifying he could be to an enemy. He was not someone who should ever be double-crossed, that was for sure…

Still, he wasn't invincible, and the dried blood streaking his temple and jaw reminded her of that. "I don't wanna see you hurt either," she said, worrying coloring her voice darkly. She paused and wet her lips, not fully able to look at Cas because of how upset this next thing had her. "You said you were almost killed today." She grasped his hands tighter, feeling powerless and scared to lose him. She tried to joke in the face of a real fear. "Don't get killed please."

Surprisingly, Cas seemed to hear the joke and a small, rueful smile stretched across his lips as he looked down. His expression slowly grew serious and rigid, the small moment of humor forgotten. "I'm at war," he said evenly, as if thinking it through out loud. "Every day my life is at risk."

There was a short silence. "Does that scare you?" Alex asked faintly, and when he looked up at her with questioning eyes, she stood by her instincts. "You look afraid." And he did. She couldn't even put her finger on where the fear was, but she saw it plain as day in him. She held his hands more securely.

His gaze faltered from hers as if from guilt or hesitation. "I fear losing this war. So much depends on the outcome." If Alex were right, he almost sounded like he was avoiding something. "I can't fully explain…" he trailed off and his eyes went upward, scanning the ceiling in worry. Was he hearing angel radio? "Every moment I'm here Daniel might be further decimating Heaven," he said, worry thickening his voice. "I really should return."

"But you're hurt," Alex protested. She'd seen how he'd barely been able to stand and fight Glen—how was he supposed to go back to Heaven in his current condition? He'd get killed if he went to battle like this.

"I'll find a Rit Zien," Cas said, as if that explained everything.

Alex paused for a second, frowned. Was she supposed to know what that was? "A what?"

"They're a special class of angel," Cas said. "Similar to a field medic. They're healers. I have a few loyal to my cause." His soft distress became more pronounced as he looked at her fully. He let go of one of her hands and held her left hand in both of his. There was an emphatic nature to his touch. "I truly do yearn for the day when this is all over and I don't have to keep leaving you."

When he said things like that, she didn't know what to do or say. Selfishly and unrealistically, she wanted to ask him to never ever leave again. It was hard to be apart, especially after the last year. But she understood that life was full of unfairness like this separation. "As long as you come back, it's okay," she said, trying to lessen his sadness. It was obvious how conflicted he was, and she did understand why he was fighting the war. But they both obviously felt the same aversion to saying goodbye. And Alex thought of how they always seemed to be saying goodbye.

Cas's eyes nearly killed her, the sadness in them at that moment. "I don't like leaving you," he confessed with a voice that didn't hold back on feeling. Alex wanted nothing more in that moment than just to hold Cas and reassure them both. He needed to know it would be okay. She needed to know it would be okay, too. She swung her legs off the bed gingerly and reached for him.

Their mutual injuries made the embrace awkward—Cas remained seated but leaned forward to meet her and Alex leaned down over him, balanced on her good foot as she hugged his shoulders tightly, sort of halfway still sitting on the edge of the bed. One of her shoulders had been dislocated earlier but she didn't care. Pain wouldn't last as long as the feeling she got from holding Cas. His arms felt weakened but enveloped her all the same. She felt him breathing out a sigh of relief, or maybe that was dissatisfied longing. She felt the same and was already thinking of how fleeting this moment was.

When she pulled back, it wasn't far—just a breath's distance. He had a hand on the side of her face and the saddest look in his eyes. And then she felt the familiar tingle of warmth radiating from the palm of his hand and Alex started. He was healing her, or at least trying to, and she attempted to pull back because of the look of strain suddenly overtaking Cas's face. But despite his injuries, he was still stronger than her, and didn't let her pull away. It was over in two seconds and Cas groaned, face contorted with pain as his hand went to his own head. "Cas, don't hurt yourself over me!" Alex admonished in a voice that was high and tight with almost anger. She was upset and surprised with him for doing just that.

"I'll be fine," he said, even though he looked physically ill. Alex, however, was feeling abruptly fine, totally normal physically—no more aches, no more pains. It didn't seem fair: her well-being for his pain. She unhappily and anxiously touched his arm, trying to soothe him sort of uselessly. His scrunched up forehead and faintly labored breathing attested to the fact that he wasn't fine. He felt her touch and looked at her, a pained little smile flitting across his lips. But then he was looking heavenward again and his expression fell. "I can hear the angels," he said. "I need to hurry."

"Now?" Alex asked, alarmed at the thought of him like this—he was hunched over in a chair like a damn old crippled man! How was he supposed to be able to even stand up, much less fly his ass to Heaven and find a… Ritz Zen angel, or whatever he'd said?

Cas let out a heavy breath. "Unfortunately yes."

"…You're sure you'll be all right?" Alex pressed. She wasn't convinced at all and didn't like the idea of Cas leaving—well, ever. But especially now.

Cas's pinched expression faded at the tone of Alex's voice. The softest ghost of a smile curved his lips again. "Don't worry yourself over me."

"You're kidding, right?" Alex asked, both affectionate and reluctant. "I'll always worry about you."

He had to go. He was going to go. She could see it in his eyes. Her chest constricted a little. "Just… be careful, Cas," she said with resignation, recognizing the goodbye hanging over this moment. She searched his brilliant blue eyes and wished he could stay just a little longer where she could verify with her own eyes that he was safe. "Come back when you can?" she asked in a voice just above a murmur. Knowing how short life could be and not willing to waste an opportunity, she leaned closer and embraced him again, whispering that she loved him so softly she didn't know if he heard, then rested her face in the side of his, trying to memorize him and remember this, send him on his way with reassurance of some kind. He silently reciprocated with a gentle, longing kiss to her lips, a touch to her face, a silent promise in his war-weary eyes when he withdrew. Reluctance filled the moment and his face. He said goodbye aloud and then was gone just like that.

Her hair blew back a little and the chair he'd been in stared back at her emptily. The room felt suddenly hollow and big, lonely.

It was never easy to see him leave. But that time was one of the hardest, and Alex felt the silence and worry sink deep into her bones. After having been without him for an entire year, the little snatches of togetherness just weren't enough. But they were better than nothing. Alex looked down at her hands and arms vapidly—no bruises, no cuts. No scars. Dammit, she'd forgotten to ask Cas to fix her wisdom teeth—whenever he'd saved her from Nandriel a few months back he'd done some kind of system reset on her. Scars, all gone. Tattoo had disappeared (she had to get it redone). Wisdom teeth: back and really annoying, aching at inopportune times. Whatever. She'd wait. Honestly, she wished he hadn't healed her. She could have hobbled around and dealt with the injuries if it meant saving him some pain and trouble and risk...

She looked upward, filled with worry. She would be so glad when this war was over. Please let it be over soon, somehow. Although, a possibly more daunting reality awaited: what life would be like when he wasn't tied down to a war anymore. Filled with anxiety, Alex absently touched fingertips to the penny resting just underneath her shirt. She didn't want to admit it to Cas or even to herself but she had spent the entire year second guessing what they'd done, what it meant, if she should have gone through with it, if it had been because of impulse or something deeper. It wasn't that she didn't love him (she did) or was worried that she wouldn't always love him (she would) or that she didn't long to spend the rest of her life with him (she did, so very much). It was that in hindsight, it seemed… crazy. There wasn't another word for it.

That was the real reason she didn't want Dean (or anyone, really) to know about what happened at Chuck's. She was terrified she would be labelled insane for running off and eloping with Cas in the eleventh hour… and that she'd believe the assessment too. She had to figure it out herself, first, before she told her brothers. Well… Sam wouldn't care though. At all. The thought of her twin saddened her. He was alive, but he might as well have been dead. The Sam she knew and loved was gone. He was scary and apathetic, disinterested in anything but jobs and hunts. Alex was left to grieve a death that hadn't really happened… and to hope he wasn't gone forever. If they could just find his soul somehow…

She paused and reflected somewhat cynically that hope was a bitch. It always left you hanging on to receive more pain and letdown. Her fingertips still touched the smooth circle of copper around her neck. She had a lot of hope about herself and Cas, despite some worries and misgivings, too. Having spent too much of her life worrying and over-analyzing and thinking she wouldn't have a love story of her own, Alex decided to keep hoping for the future and make the best of whatever questionable decisions she'd made thus far. Cas wasn't a mistake. How could he be?

A soft knocking sounded on the door frame. Alex looked up to see her oldest brother. Dean hesitated as he glanced around the room for Cas. "Everything okay?" he asked, coming in. He sounded really weird. "Where'd Cas go?"

Alex pushed her somber thoughts away in a stark second and opted for a casual air. She felt a little awkward around her nosey oldest brother. "Ah, you know," she answered, slipping her switchblade out of her boot and cutting off her hospital bracelet in a single slice. "War to win or something like that." She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and bent down to fiddle with the ankle brace she didn't need any more. She was glad they hadn't put a cast on yet… those were a pain to get off. She still hadn't fully looked at Dean. Partly because she was a little embarrassed.

"You look all better," Dean observed. He sounded as awkward as she felt.

"I am all better," she replied, cutting a glance his way and tossing the ankle brace aside then motioning for her other shoe, which was sitting in one of the plastic chairs within Dean's reach. He handed it over. "Except…" she trailed off, accepting the shoe from him and making a hesitant face. Dean paused at her apprehensive tone, honing in on it. She cleared her throat, face worried and a little scared. She looked up at him anxiously. "I'm… I'm pregnant."

Dean's eyes went saucer-wide and his mouth dropped open—he looked like he could pass out from shock. "What?!"

Alex's face dissolved into laughter. It was too easy with Dean. His expression was hilarious, especially as he realized she was kidding. She shook her head mirthfully, amused at herself as she pulled on her other boot. Just like that, brother and sister were back to normal, at least mostly. She'd gotten him back. She felt better.

"Very funny." Dean grumbled flatly, then muttered something about "kill you."

"Come on, that was a good one," Alex teased, standing up and mussing his hair lightheartedly. She hugged him impulsively, then decided it was too much sap and drew back and punched him in the shoulder lightly. Dean stood there, clearly confused and still full of chagrin about her little trick. She raked fingers through her hair absently, peering out into the hospital hall, her mind falling away from trickery and into more somber things again. "Where's Sam?"

"Went to the car, I think," Dean said distractedly, getting a look on his face that made Alex pause. Something was wrong. "I saw him, uh… him and Samuel loading the alpha into their van."

"You what?" Startled, Alex's eyebrows knit. That… didn't sound right. "Why?"

Dean shook his head slowly, disturbed. "Dunno. Can't be good, for whatever reason." Alex noticed how stressed out Dean was at that moment—he held his shoulders tightly, his forehead was gaunt, his eyes looked too tired for his age. Sometimes she forgot how much he carried. "Something weird's going on."

After a moment of shock, Alex nodded understanding, gone stone cold sober at this news.

---

They found Sam out at the Impala with a paper spread over the roof of the car. He was poring over it intensely with a cup of hospital coffee set nearby. He glanced up at Dean and Alex's approach. "Hey," he said, and didn't acknowledge them too closely. "So Samuel just called. Wanted to see where we were and when we'll be back." He gathered the newspaper up. "Think I might have found a new lead, too." He paused, finally seeming to notice something. "Cas gone?"

He said nothing about Alex's miraculous healing, nor the fact that she could walk again. More animosity toward his brother built inside of Dean—this wasn't Sam—but he hid his growing anger. "Yup," he answered shortly, keeping his voice casual on purpose. He was too tired and emotionally drained to outright punch Sam in the face. Plus, maybe Sam would be honest and let Dean know the why behind the alpha vamp weirdness Samuel was currently running. "So hey, I didn't even get the chance to ask…" he paused, hoping Sam would tell the truth. "How'd the big daddy vamp takedown go?" Next to Dean, Alex was tense. It was telling, really, how she stood with Dean on the opposite side of the car, distanced from Sam. She wasn't saying or admitting to it, but Dean knew she was cautious of her twin now. Suspicious. Not trusting at all. And it killed Dean that this was the way things were.

"Great. Easy," Sam answered easily, lying without appearing to lie at all. "Samuel finished him off."

Dean paused, a dark feeling settling onto him. "Finished him off. As in dead."

Sam's expression showed mild confusion. "Yeah, as in dead."

"In the compound, right?" Dean pressed.

"Yeah, inside the house," Sam replied, his tone implying Dean was being ridiculous.

Fucking lies. "I saw you walk that alpha out the door, Sam," Dean countered, his cold anger making him over-pronounce every word. "And, call me crazy... but he was kinda alive for that part. So the only conclusion I can come to's you're lying to me."

Sam didn't look thrilled. "…Oh."

"Yeah," Dean bit back. "'Oh.'"

Sam's jaw tightened just a little. He mostly looked inconvenienced—not contrite or guilty. "You weren't supposed to know about that."

"About what?" Dean demanded.

When Sam said nothing, Alex spoke up. "What's Samuel doing?" She sounded more cautious and careful than Dean.

Sam shrugged. It was hard to tell if he were lying again or not. "He's uh, he's catching things, taking them somewhere, grilling them for info."

"Info on what?" Alex asked, her voice growing more demanding like Dean's before sarcasm began to drip: "You filming a documentary? A vampire tell-all?"

"I dunno," Sam answered testily. "That's his area."

"Grilling for info? So torture, right?" Dean was beside himself with indignant feelings. This was unbelievable. "And not telling me about what he was really doing—that was his idea?"

"No, it was mine," Sam answered impatiently, stunning Dean and Alex both.

"Yours?" Dean asked, then quickly covered up his hurt with a colder, harder tone. "Why?"

Sam paused, taking turns glancing at both of his siblings with a hard gaze that suggested annoyance. Like he didn't want to have to deal with this conversation at all and it was a huge imposition on him. "Honestly?" He paused again. "'Cause you'd mess it up. Both of you. You shoot first, ask questions later, Dean, and we needed to ask questions. And Alex's big mouth always gets us in trouble, so…"

"Hey!" Alex protested. "What big mouth?"

"I'm just telling you the truth," Sam said bluntly.

Wow. This was just getting richer and richer. Dean shook his head and wracked his brain for answers. All he was feeling was bitter disappointment and cold fury. Sam was literally acting brain dead. There was no excuse for this shitty behavior. Dean took a couple pacing steps away, gathering himself, trying not to explode. "You know, I-I don't care if you've got soullessness or the freakin' mumps, man—" he turned back around to face his apathetic brother. It made Dean all the angrier. "You know better than this!" Dean was desperate to see even a glimpse of who Sam was, or used to be. He didn't see it and he felt hopelessness wash over him. "Do you even want your soul back?"

Sam looked increasingly impatient and clearly wasn't getting any of this. "How does that have anything to do—"

Dean cut him off, voice speeding up angrily. "Have you been to the place where Samuel takes them? I mean, have you been in on these interrogations?"

In the face of Dean's anger, Sam remained slow and measured. "No, but I hear—"

"What does he want?" Dean asked, trying to get Sam to think. "And why? Did it ever occur to you that this is really shady?"

Nope. Obviously not. Sam looked like the idea had never come close to crossing his mind. "He's our grandfather," he replied, like that was reason enough to trust.

"Yeah, and you're our brother," Alex suddenly and cynically put in. Both brothers looked at her. "Our brother who almost got us killed last week." She held Sam's gaze sharply. "Just 'cause someone's family doesn't make them Mother Theresa, Sam."

Sam looked confused at the statement. "He might be blood, but he's not family," Dean added, trying to get his brother to see. He never thought a day would come when he'd have to explain this to Sam of all people. And Sam looked as receptive to that idea as a fist would be to a brick wall. It didn't seem to resonate with him at all. Dean shook his head, aghast. "Wow. You don't see it, do you?"

"What?"

"You've got no instinct," Dean said, scoffing. "I mean you are seriously messed up."

Sam almost rolled his eyes. "Thanks."

"I'm not kidding, man!" Dean retorted, then abruptly remembered how earlier that day Gwen had told him Samuel didn't like Sam to be around her. What better time to ask about it than right now? "By the way, why'd Gwen seem to have a big problem with you, huh? What's going on there?"

Sam shrugged, growing sick of the questions. "I guess I hit on her a few times, I dunno."

Alex did some kind of double take as Dean stared with a slack jaw. "On your own cousin?" It was worse than he thought, and he was immediately thinking well if he's hit on our cousin, what's to stop him from being a creep about… his eyes slid to their sister. She had this weird look on her face, like she was realizing what Dean was. This was literally the creepiest moment of his life. "Dude, Sam… what the hell, man?" Dean pleaded. "All this stuff really, really makes me wanna walk right out, let you figure everything out on your own!"

He almost ditched Sam right then and there… but he couldn't because that was his little brother. That was Sammy.

Sam looked mildly surprised at Dean's declaration.

Taking in a deep, calming breath, Dean regulated himself, readdressing his brother. "But I'm not ready to give up on you yet," he conceded. However, he was getting close. "Look. If we do this... I drive the bus, I call the shots, and you tell me everything, whether you think it's important or not 'cause—trust me—you can't tell the difference." Sam didn't look very vested in his words, and Dean lost heart again. Sam didn't care at all, and it wounded him on the deepest level. "Or, you know what, go. Go with Samuel. See how that pans out. It's up to you." He tried to remain aloof, even though he was hurting bad. "I barely care anymore."

Beside him, he felt the gentlest touch of Alex's hand on his arm near his wrist. A silent it's gonna be okay.

Was it though? Really?

Sam considered as he leaned over the top of the Impala across from his siblings, hands folded together thoughtfully. He studied Dean with sharp, calculating eyes. "I always trusted you in the past, before I was like this," he said. He thought again for a long moment. "So… I guess I'll make the decision to trust you now."

Dean looked at his brother dubiously. "Yeah," he said in an inscrutable tone. "Great." This complicated things so hardcore. But for the moment, he had a mission on the mind. Finding out what the hell Samuel was doing with that alpha vamp who was supposed to be dead. He glanced around balefully, then shot his brother an evil eye. "Get in the car."

---

After the several-hour drive back to Samuel's compound, Sam proved himself in a small way by going to their grandfather and covertly activating the GPS trace on the old man's cell phone. This allowed the Winchesters to follow Samuel offsite in the middle of the night to an abandoned old warehouse a town or two over. Apparently, this dump was where he was doing his shady interrogations.

After lock-picking their way in, the Winchester three slipped from shadow to shadow inside, on the prowl for answers. Samuel and Christian were inside somewhere, too. With machetes drawn and at the ready, the three Winchesters followed the low sound of voices ahead somewhere. The warehouse was typical: leaky, echoing, and constructed from cold steel and rough concrete. Rust and rubble littered the place. Alex loosened and tightened the grip on her machete a couple times over, her instincts on high alert at present.

"Where is it?" came a muffled voice from a room that was close. Samuel. "Answer the question," he continued threateningly. "Where is it? How do we find it?"

Dean motioned 'against the wall' and the three hunters pressed close there and stayed still, listening. Dean peered carefully around the doorway he was close to, then moved back quickly to avoid being seen. He looked at Alex and then Sam, and made his sign for vampire.

"Answer. The. Question." Samuel's voice was low and warning. When no reply was made, the sound of something electric powering up came. Electricity zinged and popped and Alex understood. They were torturing the vampire… but there were no screams or even grunts.

A new, smooth and masculine voice came. "Ouch. Stop. That hurts." The voice was sarcastic and gentle, chilling.

Samuel's impatience and surprise and fear was audible. "This—this is club med compared to what we have planned for you!" he said, trying to sound intimidating. "I got—I got all the time in the world."

The soft voice of the alpha came again. "Well, that makes two of us."

There was a long silence, then the sound of something being thrown down in what was probably exasperation. Samuel exited through a door that was on the other side of the room even as the alpha chuckled easily, like he was enjoying a nice day at the park. Silence rang and Dean and Alex looked at each other, then at Sam.

"Are you three going to hide all night?" the alpha asked, startling them. "Come on out, boys and girl…"

Sam waited while Alex pointed a finger toward the room and made a face to ask should we? Dean shrugged as if to say why the hell not, and he stepped out of hiding, pulled the door open a little further, then led the way in.

In the dark room, the alpha vampire sat on a chair like a man might sit on a throne… only his hands were nailed there to the wooden chair he sat in, he was bound in chains securely, and his bare feet were nailed down to the floor. A grand metal cage surrounded him, and attached to the four nails driving him into captivity were wires attached to a generator. Looked like Samuel did this kind of thing all the time. To top it all off, an IV was attached to his arm. Dead man's blood. It would have killed any other vampire. He must be stronger than the rest.

A pleasant smile came over the alpha's face at the Winchesters' steady and cautious approach. Alex had to sidestep a table full of torture instruments. Yikes. Granddad's a psychopath.

"How can I help you?" the alpha asked them. He had a quiet and eerie smile on his face that never seemed to leave.

"We got some questions for you, Skippy," Dean said, approaching even closer than Sam or Alex did. "Since you're going nowhere fast."

There was a low and quiet chuckle. "Don't be so sure."

"Yeah?" Dean asked, then looked around for effect. "Locked down pretty tight. And with all that dead blood rushing through your veins, not sure you got enough juice to fire up that psychic bat-signal of yours, do you?"

"True," the alpha replied. He spoke clearly, succinctly, with emphasis on pronouncing every word carefully and properly. "Not near enough juice for that... Dean."

There was a telling pause on Dean's part—he was caught off guard. "I didn't realize we were on a first-name basis."

"Of course we are. After all, you were my children... for a time… weren't you, Alex?" His eyes slid to her. His leering smile widened. "Tell me, my precious ones… did you enjoy it?"

Dean walked forward, anger darkening him. "Eyes over here, fright night. I'm asking the questions." He slammed the electricity breaker to the on position, and blue-white sparks zinged from the nails where the wires were connected. The alpha stared at Dean. His smile was gone.

"Just chop his head off, Dean," Alex said impatiently, walking forward to join Dean and staring the alpha down through the bars of his cage.

Dean's machete glinted in his hand. "Would love to."

"When your kind first huddled around the fire, I was the thing in the dark!" The cool and collected demeanor had been traded for cold fury. "Now you think you can hurt me?" A smug smile crossed his face again and he settled back into the chair, calm again. "I have all night. I'm happy to tell you whatever you want to know."

"And why's that?" Sam asked, approaching just a couple steps from where he'd been lurking. "Scared to lose your head?"

"Because soon, I'll be ankle-deep in your blood, sucking the marrow from your bones," the alpha returned pleasantly, looking at all three of them in turn, a chilling glint in his eye. His gaze fell upon Alex. "You especially look tasty."

Her face twisted into a sneer and she back talked immediately, not thinking through her comeback. "Hasn't anyone ever told you not to play with your food before you eat it?" she paused, feeling both Sam and Dean looking at her. She held her face steady but had to admit: "Bad analogy."

"Yeah, could use some work," Dean said, quipping right along with her. She cut a glance at him. Shut up.

"Amusing," the alpha said, mild interest playing on his features. "Perhaps you'll rejoin the brotherhood. Both of you."

Alex made a faux-thoughtful face. "Yeah, I'm gonna have to say no thanks to that one."

"You're really it?" Sam asked, always the focused one. "The first of your species?"

A proud little smirk came over the alpha's face. "The very first."

"But if you're the first," Sam said, "who made you?"

Cryptic, the alpha raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. "We all have our mothers. Even me."

"What's that mean?" Dean demanded. In response, the alpha laughed lowly and said nothing. Dean tried again. "What's with the big surge of vamps lately? I mean, it's like—"

The vampire's dark eyes darted to Dean. "Like we're going to war."

"War?" Alex repeated. "Against who?"

Another maddening laugh from the alpha.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, his voice rising with impatience. "Why did Samuel bring you here?"

The alpha looked at Sam with narrowing eyes then sniffed. "…You smell cold," he said, and Dean and Alex looked at their brother oddly. "You have no soul," the alpha said, studying Sam with soft inquisitiveness. "What an oddity. Do you feel how empty you are? What is it like to have no soul?"

Sam stared. "Answer my question."

"You first," the alpha responded.

A sly, superior smile spread across Sam's face. "You're the one in the cage."

The alpha held Sam's gaze a moment, then gave in. "The thing about souls—if you've got one, of course—is they're predictable. You die and you go up, or down. Where do my kind go?"

Annoyed, Dean got mouthy. "All right, enough with the sermon, freak."

"I'm trying to answer the question, now…" the alpha looked between all three of them teasingly, like he was baiting them. "When we 'freaks' die... where do we go? Not Heaven, not Hell. So? What's left?"

"Legoland?" Dean asked churlishly.

Alex had another theory. "Purgatory." She'd bombed that one high school test about Someone or Another's Inferno, but she remembered the name of the middle ground between Heaven and Hell.

The alpha smiled at her. "Been reading your Dante, I see."

"Purgatory?" Dean made a face. "Purgatory's real?"

"Oh, stupid cattle," the alpha muttered. "Of course! And it is filled with the soul of every hungry thing like me that ever walked this earth. Now, where is it? That is the mystery. And that is what your kindhearted granddaddy is trying to beat out of me."

"Samuel brought you here... to find out where Purgatory is?" Sam asked in abject disbelief.

"I keep telling him—how would I know such a thing? But he refuses to untie me."

Sam smiled through the bars at the alpha, drawing closer. "You know exactly where it is," he said, as if he could read the vampire. The alpha said nothing, just smiled. "But why's Samuel care about any of this?" Sam pressed.

"He doesn't care," the alpha replied, a broad and lifeless grin spreading over his face. "He does as he is told." He looked at Dean almost challengingly.

Dean got the implication, eyes scanning the ground in thought then looking to his brother. "Well if the old man's Kermit…" He looked at his sister now. "Whose hand's up his ass?"

The sound of a gun cocking behind them caused the Winchesters to turn.

"Evening, guys," Samuel said. He stood there with his shotgun. Christian and Ralph, a third cousin or something, stood behind him. They also held weapons. "How about step away from the cage nice and easy."

The alpha chuckled even as Dean countered. "How about point that thing someplace else?"

"Outside the room, now." Samuel gestured vaguely with his shotgun, not holding it on them completely. "Keep your hands up where I can see 'em."

Disgruntled, Dean led the way out into the brighter hallway, his hands held up in churlish surrender, his expression pissed.

"All your weapons on the ground, now," Samuel commanded.

Sam seemed especially surprised. "You can't be serious. Samuel."

Samuel looked at Sam without any flicker of emotion. "Deadly."

Furious, Sam dropped his machete to the ground, shaking his head. Dean followed suit and Alex let hers drop, too. Christian patted them all down for weapons as Samuel and Ralph held guns on them. He took everything off them, which was infuriating. Dean's box cutter and blade and gun, Alex's switchblade, angel blade, Sam's pistol. Everything. Watching her stuff get dumped onto the ground by Christian made Alex's blood boil furiously. He then had the gall to give her a little smirk and vaguely sexual looks as he patted her down with unnecessary slowness. Alex gave him a death glare and almost punched him in the face, but he stopped just in time. Still… this would not end well for him.

Last weapon clattering to the ground, Samuel sent Ralph in to guard the alpha. Dean was glaring at his grandfather with a passion. "Wow, you know, I have seen some stupid in my time, but you take the crown," he grumbled. Alex tried to figure out if maybe the three of them could get one over on Grandpa and Christian in Ralph's absence. "Putting Jaws in a fishbowl?" Dean was ranting now. "How do you think that's gonna end? I don't know what kind of game you're running—"

Samuel's face twisted. "You think I'm doing this for kicks?"

"I think you got the rest of these feebs convinced that you're John Wayne. So whatever you're doing, whatever you're hiding... it's gonna put you and everyone around you in the ground!"

Without warning, Samuel grabbed Dean and threw him into a wall with so much brutality that it seemed he wanted to kill. Dean shoved his grandfather away, breaking the hold easily, sending Grandpa stumbling back, gun clattering to the ground. Christian was raising his gun to shoot—but Sam barreled into him, using his size and strength to stun Christian and slam him into the far hallway. Alex grabbed her stunned grandfather by the collar of the shirt and slammed her fist into his jaw, cutting off any further attack he'd made on Dean, who was on the ground and scrambling for his gun and ammo slide.

The sound of a gun cocking made them all freeze. Gwen smiled at them pleasantly, an assault rifle in her hands. It was pointed straight at them. "Hi." She gestured at Alex with the tip of the gun. "You wanna let go of Gramps?"

Nope. Definitely not. But Alex did, and raised her hands even as Dean did the same—laid his gun back down on the ground and slowly, carefully stood.

Christian shoved Sam hard for effect and poked his gun into his side. "Hey take it easy," Sam complained.

Samuel looked mildly impressed, dashing away some blood from the corner of his mouth and looking at it, then Alex. "Not bad, Alexandra." He glanced at Gwen. "Maybe you can teach your cousin how to do that."

What, how to throw a good punch? Was Samuel trying to compliment Alex or insult Gwen? He bent to pick up his shotgun.

"Look," Dean said peevishly. "This is just a beautiful family reunion, I know, but we got to—"

A scream sounded from nearby—the room where the alpha was. "Ralph?" Gwen asked, eyes widening.

"Grab your stuff," Samuel said over his shoulder to his grandchildren. He was already heading toward where the scream had come from. Gwen and Christian, guns held tight, followed. Scooping up their gear and fumblingly trying to shove it all back where it went, the Winchesters were a few steps behind their grandfather and cousins.

Ralph was dead inside the captivity room, and the cage was empty. Machetes in hand, Alex and Dean exchanged a look that said they were both so done with this bullshit.

"How much dead man's blood we got left?" Samuel asked, pacing around the cage and peering at it, trying to see how the vamp got out. Christian held up two humble syringes. Not enough, then.

"How long till the alpha's a hundred percent?" Dean asked tersely.

"Hour," Samuel answered. "Maybe less." Alex muttered something about fucking morons under her breath. She had her weapon clenched tightly and was watchful of the room's entrances and exits. Vampires were famous for their abilities to stalk and prey, and the alpha was probably close, watching them even now. Dammit, Samuel.

What Samuel said next only added to her incredulity. "We need to get him dosed up and back in the cage."

"No," was Dean's immediate response.

Samuel's expression grew ugly and he approached Dean. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

"What are you, crazy?" Alex asked. She stood near Dean as her machete twitched at her side.

Samuel stopped, looked at her carefully. "Playing catch is not on the table," Dean said with furious finality.

Impatient and mad, Samuel's voice raised. "Dean—"

"We take the thing's head off or it kills us all!" Dean shot back. "You know that."

Samuel looked at Gwen and Christian almost guiltily and said nothing. Dean seemed to have gotten his way. "Okay," he said, calmer now. He looked at each of them in turn. Sam, Gwen, Christian, Alex. "We split up. Clear every room. You get a shot, you take it. It's not gonna kill him, but dude will move a lot slower without any kneecaps." He let his attention shift back to Samuel pointedly. "And if we make it through this we're having one hell of a family meeting." His tone promised that it wouldn't be pleasant for Samuel and he brushed past him roughly. "Al, Gwen, with me."

Alex, whose gun was back in her car a state or two over, stuck by Dean closely, her machete not feeling so comforting up against the threat of an alpha. Quiet, they stole down the hallway to the left as Sam's group went right. Gwen's steps weren't as quiet as Dean and Alex's, and Dean turned to her, made a 'shh' sign with his finger to his lips, pointing at her feet. Gwen nodded shakily, hardening her face and softening her steps. In tandem, the Winchesters did what they'd done their whole life. Dean and his sister fell back into the tried and true training Dad had given: they kept close, their backs slightly to each others in large spaces to better observe their surroundings. They said nothing and just used signals and eyes to communicate.

Alex nudged Dean at one point, motioning to a single drop of blood on the floor. Dean swept the area with the aim of his gun—a bunch of old wooden shipping boxes littered the area, and grease was pooled off in the shadowy corner of the space. Gwen nervously turned around, checking behind them and the way they'd come. They didn't hear a sound. For three harrowing minutes they crept throughout the rooms of the old building in search of the alpha. Beside the single drop of blood and then one other smudge of blood on a door frame, they found no trace.

"Do you think—" Gwen started in a whisper. That's when they heard shots and shouts coming from deeper into the building, back from where they'd come. They took off at a haphazard run, because one of those shouts sounded like Sam.

What they found back in the torture room was a mystery.

Samuel was on the ground, Sam was staggering against a wall, two guys with black eyes were holding onto the woozy alpha… and Christian, too. His eyes were black and he smirked at the new arrivals. And then, the three demons disappeared with the alpha without explanation.

"The hell…?" Dean breathed, voicing everyone's shock. Alex drifted into the room after Dean, trying to piece together what had just happened. From above, the sound of slow clapping suddenly rang. Everyone look upward in unison to see who was there.

Leaned against the metal railing casually at the top of a rickety metal staircase… Crowley. Alex's stomach turned at the sight of him. "Well," he purred in that low gravel voice as he looked down at them, "that was dramatic."

It was instinct and hatred that compelled Alex to snatch her angel blade out of her jacket and throw it straight for him. Crowley sidestepped it without even looking, sighing as if in chagrin before looking at her briefly. The blade clattered uselessly to the ground and Crowley looked at it with disinterest. "Rude."

"Crowley?" Sam sounded less than excited about the demon's appearance. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too." Crowley smiled as if he were feeling friendly and swept his gaze over the room's occupants. "Hello, poppets. What an unexpected treat. Alex, as usual, your aim is appalling. Can't say I'm complaining though." He began to leisurely make his way down the stairs.

"Bring Christian back now," Samuel commanded shakily, getting up off the ground.

Crowley feigned misunderstanding, pausing just briefly in his descent. "I'm sorry?"

"My nephew!" Samuel all but bellowed. "The one you just crammed a demon into!"

"Oh, no," Crowley said mildly, reaching ground level and sauntering over to Samuel. "I had him possessed ages ago. Samuel, really." He smiled coyly. "I keep an eye on my investments."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, wait, you two know each other?" Dean asked.

"Not in the biblical sense," Crowley drawled. "More of a business relationship, I'd say."

"What business?" Alex asked, appalled.

Sam, however, seemed to know and was giving his grandfather a cool stare. "You're Crowley's bitch."

Samuel sounded deflated. "It's not what you think."

"It's precisely what you think," Crowley retorted, well pleased. "That alpha he's caught me is getting him a gold star."

"Since when do you give a crap about vampires?" Dean asked venomously.

Crowley clasped his hands behind himself and walked forward casually, pretending to be thoughtful. "Since, uh... what's today—Friday?" He looked upward as if trying to remember. "Since, let's see…" he let his index finger fall into Dean's chest, "…Mind your business."

Crowley chuckled and walked in between Dean and Alex, by all appearances about to walk out of the doorway behind them. Alex turned, glaring at him, wishing she hadn't missed earlier. "Listen, asshole, we know you're looking for Purgatory."

He turned around, looking at her almost flirtatiously. "So you heard about that."

Unamused, Alex narrowed her eyes at him. "Yeah, so why?"

"Isn't it obvious? Location, location, location." No one understood what the hell he was talking about and Crowley half rolled his eyes. "I'm a developer. Purgatory is vast, underutilized, and hell-adjacent—and I want it."

"What for?" Dean demanded.

Crowley's head swiveled Dean's way and his gaze was soft and warning. "Best shut your gob. Employees don't question management."

"We ain't your employees," Dean fired back.

"'Course you are!" Crowley returned pleasantly. "Have been for some time now, thanks to Gramps. I don't keep Captain Chromedome around for his wit, do I? Samuel knows things. More than any of you, actually. Walking encyclopedia of the creepy and the crawly. And I knew you three are so hung up on family-loyalty nonsense, he said jump, you'd get froggy." The smug little smile on Crowley's face was sickening.

"Yeah, well, the game's over," Dean said with a cold, you're-dead-to-me smile aimed in the demon's general direction.

Crowley didn't bat an eye. "'Fraid not, not if you want to see Sam's soul ever again."

"What?" Alex asked, and his lying eyes and face and smile made her see red. "Oh you liar." She physically made for Crowley and Dean's arm shot out to stop her. Crowley chuckled deep in his throat.

"You're bluffing," Sam said.

Crowley was superior and sly. "Tell them, Samuel."

Samuel was guilty under everyone's questioning stares. "He pulled us both back, me and Sam."

Genuine anger filled Sam's face as he stared at Samuel. "What? You knew?"

Samuel's convicted silence was confirmation.

"No," Dean said, turning to Crowley angrily with teeth clenched. "Cas says it takes big-time mojo to pull something like that off, and you're nothing but a punk-ass crossroads demon."

"Was a punk-ass crossroads demon," Crowley corrected. "Now? King of Hell."

Alex's eyebrows skyrocketed. "You're the King of Hell?" Without even meaning to, she gave a short derisive laugh, remembering what Glen had said about some red-headed demon gathering forces to overthrow the King of Hell… which just so happened to be Crowley.

At the laugh, Crowley's eyes narrowed a bit. "What's so funny?"

Alex shrugged innocently, let a maddening smile play on her lips. "You'll find out soon enough I'm sure."

Crowley's expression darkened. "I dislike the disrespect," he said threateningly, making the smile falter on her face. "We've talked about this, Alexandra." He chuckled again, a low and sandpapery sound. "My my. You must love the thrill of the risk." Alex shut her mouth and said nothing else, knowing exactly what he was implying. He'd tell Dean everything he knew. Smirking once again, Crowley looked at Dean frostily. "Now believe me, I've got the mojo Dean darling. I snap my fingers, Sam gets his soul back. Or, you can be… you, and I shove Sam right back in the hole." He looked at Sam with a curious expression. "Can't imagine what it's like in there... and I can imagine so many things." A wicked smile spread across his face. Everyone was silent and Crowley reveled in his small victory of rendering everyone dumbstruck. "So! We clear? Me, Charlie. You, angels. Job's simple enough—bring me creatures. Aim high on the food chain, please. Everybody wins. It's been a pleasure. See you soon." The demon disappeared, leaving a shocked group of people behind.

The silence didn't last long. "It's time to go," Samuel said apathetically, glancing at Gwen and dodging everyone's stares. "Get the van."

Gwen looked pissed off and didn't move a muscle. "You're letting a demon call the shots?"

Samuel looked and sounded shaken. "Nothing's changed. We hunt. Period!" His gruff demeanor softened just a little. "Don't worry about him. I'll take care of it." Gwen stubbornly stood her ground and Samuel leveled her with a gaze full of ultimatum. "You trust me or not? Get the van, Gwen." For a minute, Gwen looked like she wasn't going to comply. Then she stalked out, doing what Samuel said.

Samuel started packing up the table full of torture devices as Sam approached. "Working with a demon, huh?" he asked in a soft, dangerous voice. "You're not who I thought you were."

Samuel met Sam's gaze with fire. "You don't know anything about me, son."

"Apparently not," Sam returned evenly. Beneath his calm exterior, rage clearly boiled.

Alex looked at her grandfather with disappointment. "I thought you were supposed to be this super great hunter," she said in an accusing voice. "Would've thought you'd have to sense to know making a deal with a demon's always gonna bite you in the ass."

"It's not that simple," Samuel said, his voice and glance irritated.

"Yeah?" Dean challenged. "What's so important that you're the King of Hell's cabana boy, huh? What'd he offer you?" His voice dripped with sarcasm and disapproval. "Girls? Money? Hair?"

"I got my reasons," Samuel said vaguely and hefted his bag of weapons up, making to leave. Dean didn't move out of his way and Samuel didn't back down. For a minute, the two men stared each other down. Then Samuel challenged Dean quietly. "You gonna make a move, go ahead."

"Or what?" Dean asked lowly.

"Or nothing," Samuel said, pausing meaningfully. "I'm not gonna do anything to you, Dean. You kids... you're my family. So the way I see it, you got two choices—put a bullet in your grandfather or step aside."

Sam immediately took the invitation, drawing his pistol. Two hands came to push the gun down. "Whoa whoa whoa, Sam—" Alex said as she and Dean both stopped him. "Calm down."

"He sold us out," Sam said tightly.

"Yeah he did," Dean said evenly, looking his brother in the eye, trying to convey silent things to him. "Let it go."

Sam's eyebrows pressed in slightly. "Why?"

Dean said nothing to Sam, turning to look back at Samuel. "Get out of here," he said to his grandfather. Samuel's surprise was marked… but after considering for a moment he left without another word.

There was a stark silence and Sam looked at Dean questioningly. "Why'd you let him go?"

Alex recognized how Dean was struggling with everything that had just happened. "I guess I'm feeling generous today," Dean answered, attempting a wan smile. Sam's face was puzzled and Dean looked dejected. "He's still family, Sam."

"Who cares," Sam said bluntly. "He lied and manipulated and used us."

"We've done the same to others for less," Dean reminded heavily. His words seemed to make the room feel quieter, more bare.

"So what now?" Sam asked his older brother.

Dean shook his head, voice weak with protesting despair. "We can't work for Crowley—"

Sam's face registered confusion. "You sure about that?"

"Yes," Alex said strongly, speaking for Dean and herself. "There's gotta be another way."

"What other way?" Sam asked as his face twisted up into an expression of exasperation. "There's nothing."

They'd only found out about Sam's soulless thing a day ago, and Alex reminded them of such. "We don't know that yet."

"Say Crowley's telling the truth though," Sam argued. "Just running the math—do we really have another choice?"

"We could stab him in his throat," Dean offered in half-seriousness, looking to Alex for approval. She nodded, playing along, because that wasn't the worst idea in the world.

"And get my soul back how?" Sam asked, missing the half-joke. "I'm just saying, seems like we gotta play ball, at least for the moment."

Dean gave a sigh laden with stress. He was really reluctant and looked between his siblings in quiet desperation. "I mean… there's gotta be another way, right?"

"Has there been so far?" Sam asked, the voice of reason. "Cas doesn't know, and if he doesn't, who will? Crowley's our way out."

Dean shook his head, looking from his brother to his sister in something like dread. "Man, I have done some stupid things in my time, but punching a demon's clock?"

"Look, just till we find another way, or just till we get the damn thing back," Sam said.

"And then?" Dean asked doubtfully.

"And then we track Crowley down and Alex gets to stab him without missing." He gave Alex a little slanting glance, then refocused on Dean. "We give that son of a bitch what's coming to him. You with me, Dean?"

Dean's mouth thinned and he shook his head, harrowed. "I dunno man. I dunno."

---

The Next Day

Alex poked at the plateful of pulled pork in front of her and glanced across the table at Sam, who was eating like it was his job. They were sitting outside of a place called Fat Mack's Rib Shack. The sign for the restaurant was a cheesy cutout of a pig in a chef's apron. The smoky smell of barbecue wafted over the mostly-empty outdoor dining area.

The past day had been pretty awkward. They were currently on their way to back to Calumet City to get Alex's Mustang where it was still parked at the motel where it'd been left. Dean seemed anxious for that, probably wanting to put some space between Sam and herself. She wouldn't mind it either, to be honest. Every day that passed her twin creeped her out more and more. It was sad. She hated it. Was Crowley telling the truth? Did he really know how to bring Sam's soul back? It remained to be seen.

Alex still hadn't heard from Cas after he'd disappeared from the hospital. Nerve-wracked over his well-being, Alex worried the inside of her mouth absently while staring at Sam blankly. Cas had asked her a couple days ago to consider removing herself from wherever Sam would be while he was soulless. After everything that'd happened and then finding out he'd hit on Gwen… Alex was seriously considering it. But Dean needed her. Right?

Sam felt her staring at him and glanced up, popped a crinkle fry into his mouth before he gave her a weird look. "What?"

Alex shook her head and looked away, missing her twin so much that it suddenly hurt her chest. "Nothing."

A few steps away behind Alex, Dean was talking to Bobby on the phone. "No, anything about souls," he was saying. "Yes, I know it's not much to go on. Just…" there was a long, tense pause. Alex looked over her shoulder at her oldest brother. He had a hand on the back of his head as he listened for a couple beats. "I know, Bobby, but there's gotta be another way. I don't know. Keep digging." Alex returned to raking a fork through her food distractedly, listening to Dean's voice as she did so. "I mean, if Crowley thinks we're just gonna—"

"Crowley thinks you're just gonna what, Dean?" came a familiar velvet voice. Sam and Alex's heads whipped up. Crowley had materialized beside Dean, who gaped. "Is that Bobby Singer? Give him a kiss for me."

Dean's jaw tightened and he spoke into the phone tightly. "I'll call you back."

"Good news for the three stooges!" Crowley said, sauntering over to the table where Sam and Alex sat. "I've got a job for you." He pulled out the chair next to Sam, turned it around, and sat on it backwards, giving Alex a playful little smile.

"How about you fuck off?" she invited in a hostile snap.

Crowley unfolded a newspaper leisurely and looked at Alex over the pages pleasantly. "How about you learn some respect for your superior, mm?"

Dean sat down next to his sister, pocketing his phone and giving Crowley a deadly glare. "I'm gonna say this once," he said, pointing a finger at Crowley. "You can take your job and shove it up your ass. Screw off and get away from my family, okay?"

"That any way to talk to your boss?" Crowley asked.

"You're not our boss, dickbag," Dean retorted in his signature angry, loud voice.

Crowley sighed in resignation, looking at Alex and Dean in turn. "Ah, come on you two. Been through this. Quit clutching your pearls. You've been working for me for some time now. Sam here, longer."

"We didn't know," Sam said, a slightly arrogant smile curling his lips.

"Like that makes a difference to you," Crowley replied without missing a beat. "You'd sell your brother or sister for a dollar right now if you really needed a soda."

Sam's face didn't deny Crowley's claim and Dean and Alex were mutually startled then pained.

"Look," Crowley said, refocusing the conversation. "I'm sending you—"

"No," Dean insisted.

The beginnings of cool scorn tightened Crowley's features. "Beg pardon?"

Dean shook his head adamantly. "I've done some shady stuff in my time, but I am not doing this, and I am not involving my family, either. No."

Crowley's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "Ten quid says you will," he said, abruptly reaching over and tapping the back of Sam's hand. Sam yelled and yanked his hand to himself—red hot skin sizzled in the place where Crowley had touched, and Sam gasped in pain.

At the sound of her brother's distress, Alex's tough demeanor fell. "What are you doing to him, Crowley?!" she asked, sitting back in panic as Sam squirmed and moaned in pain, holding his hand.

"You like pain, Sam?" Crowley asked tauntingly. "You like Hell?" Crowley scowled at Dean now. "You need to stop thinking of this as some kind of deal," he said lowly. "This is a hostage situation, you arrogant little thug." His voice rose. "I own your brother! Do you understand me?"

Sam hissed, made a sound like aaah, and Alex panicked, gripping the table with white knuckles. "Stop it, Crowley!"

Crowley smirked and snapped his fingers. Sam relaxed and breathed in and out heavily a few times, looking at his now-normal hand with a strange expression. "See?" Crowley asked Alex with a cold glint in his eyes. "I can be polite."

Dean, who'd been silent but not unaffected, was breathing heavily, his glare burning in Crowley's direction. "Come on, Dean, smile," the demon enticed. "It's not that bad. Here's incentive—you bag me a live alpha, and I'll give you little Sammy's soul back with a cherry on top."

"What, alpha vamp not good enough for you?" Sam asked sharply.

"Best mind where you poke your nose, if you want to keep it," Crowley said to Sam, then turned his attention to the newspaper he'd been holding in a hand the entire time. "Your merry little hike up the food chain starts here." He spread the paper out. "Businessman found dead in his car—chest ripped open, heart missing. Sounds like?"

Sam picked up the newspaper. The headline read Businessman Falls Victim to Animal Attack. "Werewolf," he said.

Dean shook his head, frowning slightly. "No, it's not a full moon."

Crowley smirked. "Werewolves turning on the full moon—so oh-nine."

"He's right," Sam said. "Samuel and I ganked one about six months back on the half-moon."

"Jamie and I took one down on a waxing crescent," Alex put in sort of somberly.

"Things've been out of whack for a while now, I guess," Sam concluded.

Dean looked at Sam pointedly. "Yeah, I guess." Sam met Dean's somewhat antagonizing stare and frowned uncertainty, not catching his brother's sullen implication.

"So, it's settled then," Crowley said demurely. "You bag the howler, bring it home to papa." He smiled when no one said anything. "See you soon, boys. Princess." Crowley disappeared without another word.

Dean leaned back in his chair and put a hand on his face. Sam resumed eating. "This coleslaw's really good," he said, unbothered by what had just happened.

When Sam said that, Dean pushed his untouched plate of ribs away and looked at Alex, already standing up. "I gotta talk to you," he said flatly, then gave Sam a false, sarcastic smile. "You enjoy your coleslaw, all right?"

Alex got up and went with Dean, who steered her out into the gravel parking lot beside the rib shack. They stood beside the Impala and out of the hearing range of Sam (who didn't care either way—e was eating his food and reading the paper in rapt attention).

Dean seemed reluctant and resigned, beaten down emotionally. "Al, you're not gonna like this," he started wearily, "but—I don't think you should be around Sam right now. Or part of this whole deal with the devil thing, either." She said nothing, even though she was immediately protesting silently. "I can't keep you safe, Cas is distracted with his whole war in the attic thing…" Dean trailed off when Alex's brow creased in the beginnings of hesitance and denial. "This isn't about you being a girl or being the baby of the family or something like that, okay? I mean, did I try and keep you off the Samuel thing yesterday? No. I know you're a good hunter, okay? I know you are, and I'm not trying to be overprotective here or something. I mean, you know I'm trying. To, to let you grow up and be your own person." He was implying the Cas situation. Alex listened with surprise at his rambling confession and heartfelt tone. Was something wrong with Dean? This wasn't like him. "I mean it, Alex," he said. "Sam's seriously freaking me out right now and I just… I need you to please do what I'm asking you to."

"…Which is what?" Alex asked cautiously. She already had a pretty good idea of what he was going to say.

"Go stay with Bobby awhile," Dean said, begging and pleading her with his eyes and voice. "Just until I get Sam his soul back. And I'm not asking you to sit on your thumbs, either. Bobby can always use a hand. Help the old man out with research, hunts, whatever. Maybe you two can find something on that end that Sam and I won't."

He had a slight point, but Alex shook her head. "But I can help you guys. Three of us hunting together, we'll get more alphas that way, right? Maybe?"

"I know, but…" Dean's voice lowered and he glanced Sam's way furtively. "Al, Sam was hitting on Gwen. He used you as a hostage a couple days ago. He let us get turned into vampires. I mean… it's dangerous."

"I know that," Alex replied, matching his almost-whisper. "Which is why I don't wanna separate. If I'm not with you, who's gonna have your back?"

A touched little smile came over Dean's face, like her worrying over him surprised him or something. "I will," he said, then got a little cocky. "Soul or not, Sam can't get one over on me."

"You sure about that?" Alex asked, not in the mood for jokes.

"I'll be fine," he said. "Don't worry about it, kiddo."

Alex let out the softest little derisive chuckle. "I'm not a kid anymore, Dean," she said kind of fondly despite her mild annoyance, too. He'd probably still call her kiddo when he was a seventy years old.

A bittersweet look remained in her brother's eyes. "Don't remind me, Mouse." He got this look on his face that she didn't understand and he hugged her tight, like it was goodbye or something.

When he pulled away, Alex looked up into his eyes questioningly. "You're worrying me, Dean," she said, trying to see what was the matter.

"I'm fine," he said, but she didn't think so.

"Are you really?" she challenged with gentleness and firmness alike. They both knew he would never be completely fine. Not after Hell. Not after Mom, Dad, this life, the losses. The weight, the burden.

Dean didn't let his guard down—he just shrugged, giving the impression of leisure. "Fine as I can be." He looked at her carefully, sidestepping her concerns about him. "So… we got a deal here?"

Alex looked at him long and hard. She wanted to say no, hell no, I'm staying with you. But the facts were too big to avoid: Dean thought it was a bad idea to be around Sam. Cas thought it was a bad idea to be around Sam. So she decided to listen to them—the two most important men in her life—and trust their judgement on this. "All right, look," she said in a no-nonsense, businesslike way. "I got a few terms. One: You call me every day and let me know you're okay."

"No problem," Dean agreed readily.

"Two: If you need me to come back at any point, you tell me, right away."

There was a single nod. "Can do."

Alex maintained her deadly-serious demeanor, because she meant it all. "Three: Know that if this takes more than a few months, I am coming back whether you like it or not."

Dean's eyes softened as he smiled. "It won't take that long. Trust me, I can't stand this version of Sam." He looked back at the patio area where Sam ate alone. His expression faltered. "I'm ready to have my brother back."

Alex followed his gaze, her voice quieting. "That makes two of us." She looked at Dean again expectantly. "So, you agree to my terms?"

He stuck his hand out for a handshake, indicating that he did. "Put 'er there." They shook on it. Dean then crossed his arms, leaned back against his car, and looked off thoughtfully. "We'll get through this, all right? We're gonna get Sam back." He gave the softest little laugh. "If it kills me."

Alex gave him a look—are you serious? Even if it killed him? The slightest little smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. He thought he was real funny, joking about how he had died to bring Sam back before. "Too soon, Dean," she said flatly. He had the dumbest sense of humor sometimes.

He grinned and shrugged, pleased with himself. "Hey, I'm just getting you back for yesterday!"

Alex raised a challenging eyebrow at him. "You know how this ends when we try and out-revenge each other, right?"

Dean made a mock-thoughtful face. "Badly, for you."

Alex gaped with indignant amusement. "You wish, dingus!" Sister shoved brother playfully and he chuckled—he'd always loved annoying his siblings and getting a rise out of them.

Just a couple hours later when they got to Alex's car, Dean and Alex hugged goodbye. Alex almost changed her mind—it felt wrong to have just reunited with her family and now walk away again. But she stuck with her decision and promised herself that at the first sign that Dean needed her, she'd jump back in. Sam sat in the Impala while Dean and Alex parted, not even getting out to say farewell. He raised a hand and glanced her way, waved halfheartedly, clearly not caring one way or the other. Alex gave him a drawn smile and told him to get well soon. It sounded like a joke, but it was from the heart.

And that was it.

The brothers headed one way and Alex headed the other.

It would been awhile before the three of them were together again.

---

Author's Notes: And so Season 6 SRS diverges away from the show plot line a little bit. Alex (and Cas! And Bobby! And others!) are about to have a few original adventures… :) :) :) look out for Garth… Ghostfacers… angels… and more!