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.

67. In Too Deep

Song Remains the Same

Chapter 67 / In Too Deep

"You let me violate you, desecrate you, penetrate you;
You let me complicate you… you help me get away from myself."
- Nine Inch Nails

---

The three Winchesters were dragged back the way they'd come through Crowley's dilapidated prison and then through a cell block they hadn't explored. Dean was hurled into a cell separate from his brother and sister. The door clanged shut behind him with a loud sound and Dean cast his gaze around the small space as he shook with absolute fury. Un-fucking-believable! Their own grandfather selling them out like this!

"Sam?! Alex!" he bellowed, pacing the small space of the cell he was in and craning to hear evidence of their proximity. He thought they had been stuck into a cell next to his, but the echoing sounds and thick walls made it hard to tell.

From nearby, he heard his sister give a blood-curdling scream instead of an affirmative response. "Oh my god ohmygod ahh! Ahh! Get away from me!"

Dean went frozen with shock and fear. Was Sam attacking her? Was she being tortured separately? Had the twins been locked up with a monster?! "What is it?" he asked in a panicking shout. He yanked on the locked door to his cell uselessly. "Alex! Sam! Alex, what is it?!" All he heard were sounds of scuffling nearby.

And then the response came. "The biggest fucking spider!" Alex screamed. "Sam get it away from me!"

Dean became exasperated. "Spider?!" he exclaimed, staring up at the wall in front of him with a funny look on his face. "Weren't you punching a demon minute ago?"

She didn't reply. He heard her shoes shuffling against the cold concrete floor nearby. They sounded either next cell over or one cell down. "Sam, kill it!" she whined.

Dean could just make out Sam's low, annoyed voice. "Fine, Jesus Christ, Alex," Sam muttered. "Happy?" The deed must have been done.

Still, Alex's sarcasm reigned. "No!"

Of all the things to feel at that very moment... Dean was a touch amused. "You are a piece of work, Al," he said, more to himself than to her as he rubbed his face and wondered how many hairs had just turned gray from the fear she'd just put him through. "Tiny little thing you can step on. Yeah, real scary."

The viewing latch on the solid metal door to the cell suddenly swung open, demanding Dean's attention. On the other side of the door Samuel stood and peered in at him. Dean's fury returned in a heartbeat to see the face of treachery staring back at him. "You want forgiveness, find a priest," he growled.

His grandfather had the nerve to look sorry. "I just want you to understand—" he started.

"Oh, I understand," Dean interrupted as he moved forward to confront Samuel through the open viewing. His blood had reached a boiling point and he wanted to strangle the man on the other side of the prison door. "I understand that you're a liar. You talk about putting blood first? You sound just like my dad, the difference is, he actually did."

Samuel's temper surged to match Dean's. "I am putting blood first!"

Disgust twisted Dean's features. "Oh gimme a break!"

"Mary's my blood!" Samuel shouted. "My daughter! Don't come at me like I sold you out, Dean, you sold out your own mother." His volume rose again. "It was her or Sam, and you chose Sam, plain and simple."

"Oh that is such crap!" Dean fired back. "You wanna know what really happened? You chose a demon over your own grandkids!"

That accusation made Samuel stand back slightly and look at Dean with reservation. The angry fire in his eyes died down to something more cool and measured. "See it how you want," he said. "I don't even know what Sam is. And you want me to protect him or something? You three are strangers." Dean scoffed at that comment. So much for family ties. Samuel was here to try and feel better about what he'd done, which was basically signing Dean and his siblings' death certificates. "No, really, tell me," Samuel continued, voice tempered with indignant insolence, "What exactly are you supposed to be to me?"

"I'll tell you who I am," Dean said soft and low. "I'm the guy you pissed off for the last time. I'm the guy whose brother and sister are at the mercy of the King of Hell 'cause of you. I'm the guy you never wanna see again. 'Cause I'll make it out of here, trust me. And the next time you see me, I'll be there to kill you."

Samuel was faintly sorrowful. "Don't think there's gonna be a next time, Dean."

Dean let his voice lower dangerously as his gaze bored into Samuel's. "Whatever gets you through the night." Samuel Campbell was a dead man. A dead man.

Samuel studied him a moment longer than wordlessly shut the viewing window.

"Yeah, good talk," Dean muttered and turned his back on the door, sweeping the cell again with an incensed glare while he looked for any kind of weapon or way out. Nada. Nothing. Behind him, the door creaked and Dean turned as a frown came over his face. He halfway expected to see Samuel there… but instead he saw the two demons who'd dragged him into the cell in the first place. Before a sarcastic comment could make its way out of his mouth, he was seized by either arm.

A couple cells over, Alex and Sam heard their brother yelling. "Get off me! Get off me!" His shouts faded like he was being dragged further and further away. Alex pressed up against the door with her cheek against the cold metal as she tried to squint out the tiny crack in the viewing latch seam. She gave a frustrated sound and hit the side of her fist against the door helplessly as she straightened.

"See anything?" Sam asked. He hung back a few steps in the shadowed interior of the filthy cell.

"What do you think?!" She rounded on her brother with a vengeance. "I can't see shit!"

Overall, Sam was calm and collected but did appear to be slightly agitated. Probably because he, like everyone else in the world, didn't like being held against his will. He scanned the cell, eyes squinting as his gaze swept the ceiling. Alex raked a hand through the hair on her scalp and she paced a couple steps in pure agitation. Samuel had banished Cas with a blood sigil and it would be a couple hours before he could return. Dean had just been dragged off who-knows-where by a couple of demons and she was trapped here with Soulless. And then of course, what about Meg? Who knows where that piece of work was. So: weaponless, helpless, stuck. Forced to stand by and let Dean get tortured or killed. Son of a bitch.

The little viewport opened just then and Alex whirled to see who it was. She was abruptly hopeful it would be Dean, having made escape. It wasn't. Samuel's blank face stared in at them and hatred welled up in Alex's chest immediately. "You son of a bitch!" she growled, stalking over to the door and hitting it hard with her palms, startling Samuel a little with the loud sound and sudden shake the action created. "If you just got my brother killed I'll rip your heart out!"

Samuel's dark eyes contemplated her for a second and then drifted away back over to behind her shoulder as if he were disinterested in her. "No offense, Alexandra, but I'm here to talk to your brother, not you."

"Tough shit, Grandpa!" she snapped, moving her face into his line of sight to make him look at her. "I don't care how much you want your daughter back! She's already dead, we aren't! You crazy?!"

"Don't you talk about your mother that way," he said in a voice that wavered. "She shouldn't be dead."

"And my brothers and me should be?" Alex challenged brutally.

Samuel grew colder, more apathetic. "I can't look at it that way. Look, fact is I don't love you. Or Sam. Or Dean. I love Mary. I need her back. Sad it came to this, but nothing else except my daughter will make life bearable for me. Trust me, I've tried to get by without her, I've tried replacing her. But she's irreplaceable. This had to happen."

"What are you talking about?" Alex asked, looking at her grandfather with a crazy expression. He sounded insane. "Crowley will never make good on what he's promising you, Samuel! He's a demon! And even if he does magically come through for you… you think my mother will like the fact that you killed her three kids to get her back?"

Samuel's jaw tightened a little and he looked down. "She doesn't have to know that."

That chilled Alex—her grandpa was a sociopath. She might not have known much about her mother, but from an encounter of her own thanks to time travel, she knew that Mary Winchester was an incredibly perceptive woman. And Samuel was a dumbass to think he could ever get away with this stupid idea. She raised her chin and narrowed her eyes so that she looked down her nose at him. "So Crowley brought Sam back soulless and you back as a brainless motherfucker, huh?"

"Young lady that's enough!" Samuel snapped, the fire of fury leaping up into his eyes. He crowded himself closer to the door to rant at her. "Ungrateful, spoiled brat—you are nothing like your mother, nothing! You're just like that worthless father of yours!"

A derisive little smile came over Alex's face and her superior attitude clearly confused Samuel. "Let me out of this cell and say that to my face, old man," she said lowly. "I am just like my dad. He was a killer. And so am I."

There was a short silence and then Samuel relented and smiled briefly while looking down. "You and Dean can threaten me all you want," he said, superiority glinting in his dark gaze as he looked back up at her. "But look which side of the prison door you're standing on."

That comment did her in. Her temper and helplessness got the better of her and through the small square window in the cell door, Alex spit in her grandfather's face. Shocked and angry, Samuel shrank back, wiping his face with the back of a jacket sleeve. He looked like he couldn't believe that had just happened, but when he saw spit come away on the sleeve of his jacket, he snapped. Something seemed to register in his mind and with a sound of anger he senselessly rushed the door, jamming his face right up at the edge of the viewport in a reaction that wasn't thought through, only meant to frighten. It didn't frighten. What he did was what Alex had been hoping for. She was ready and put all her strength and momentum into smashing the heel of her hand into his nose. She heard something crunch from the impact and as Samuel stumbled back, clutching at his suddenly profusely-bleeding nose.

"…You broke my nose," he muttered, dazed and confused as he pulled his hand back to look at the bleed smeared into the palm of his hand.

"Let me out of here and I'll break more than that, you bastard!" She gave him one final death glare then hit the door and marched further back into the cell. She couldn't look at him anymore because the fury he inspired made her feel like she was going to have a damn heart attack. Breaking his nose gave her very little satisfaction. The fact remained that she and her brothers were probably going to die here.

Samuel must have been a glutton for punishment because he came back to the viewport (keeping a safe distance though). He peered in at Sam, who stood back with a dark, unreadable expression. "Sam, look," their grandfather said wearily as he glanced Alex's way with apprehensiveness before he returned his gaze to Sam. "We hunted together for a whole damn year and I just want you to know even though—"

Scoffing, Sam cut him of coldly. "You can stop right there, Samuel, I don't wanna hear it." Anger made his tone harsh as he walked closer to his grandfather at a threatening gait. "I don't care what you have to say. You sold me out. You sold us out." Samuel said nothing. It looked like maybe he was trying to find something else to say. Sam smiled darkly. "And I thought I was supposed to be the soulless one."

"Go ahead and fuck off, you old bag," Alex suggested from further back in the cell.

Sam's stare was hard on their grandfather. "You heard her," he said. "Fuck off." Samuel's jaw went rigid and he slammed the viewing latch closed with a bang. Muffled footsteps retreated away from the cell and even as the sound faded, Sam turned around, focused once more. "I have an idea to get us out of here."

Alex had her arms folded and her hopes low. "Yeah, what?"

"Devil's trap."

"Oh okay, sure," Alex replied sarcastically. "You got your sidewalk chalk with you? Left mine at home."

Sam brushed past her and crouched down against the wall. "I got something even better." He shoved his jacket sleeve and shirt sleeve up, baring his entire forearm. Alex was shocked when he brought his bare arm to his mouth and opened wide, biting himself hard on the arm. Hard enough to draw blood. His expression was terrifyingly focused and malevolent.

"W-what are you doing?!" Alex asked in a suddenly high voice. She'd backed up involuntarily at the sight of him chewing himself open.

He paused, looking up at her. "Getting us something to draw with," he replied factually. His own blood dripped out of the edge of his mouth. He bit himself again, deeper, making a soft sound of pain as he did.

"Damn," Alex breathed, equal parts freaked out and impressed. She wouldn't have thought of that, at least not as fast as he did.

A small river of dark red blood welled up from the punctures Sam had inflicted on himself. "Okay, you gotta do this fast so I don't lose too much," he said.

"Me?" Alex asked, not following.

Sam glanced at the high ceiling. "I can't reach all the way up there," he said, waving her over curtly. "Hop on."

Even as she understood she was supposed to sit on his shoulders and finger paint the demon trap overhead, a wave of bittersweet nostalgia and pain came over her. Sam was waiting, crouched there, for her to get on. Man, she hadn't sat on his shoulders since they were really little. Piggyback rides had happened in recent years, but sitting on his shoulders hadn't. After hesitation she complied, swinging her legs over on either side of his head so that her feet dangled down in front of his torso. He stood up really slowly, using the wall for support. Once he was standing, he held her steady by both shins. Looking down for the briefest second at the top of her twin's head, Alex reminisced. "Like old times, huh."

He was walking them forward to the center of the cell and held his bloody arm up for her. "Just draw the trap, will you?"

It took a little longer than normal—having to direct Sam where to walk ("To your left. Okay, two steps right. Forward one? Back three. Okay, circle around and watch it, watch it.") was challenging. The ceiling was barely in reach and she had to really stretch. She forgot she was working with Soulless a couple times. The times she lost balance and almost toppled off and he helped steady and catch her, she could have been with Sam again. Her Sam. And when she remembered that she wasn't, it made her all the more determined to get them out of there to fight this crazy situation all the harder. They hurried as best they could with the trap and the second it was done, Sam ducked his head down and leaned forward. Alex jumped off and hurried to the cell door, beginning to pound on it. "Hey! Hey assholes! Let us outta here you black-eyed bitches!" She kept on shouting lewd challenges for a couple minutes before the door finally shuddered and opened.

Alex backpedaled fast to the rear of the cell where Sam waited. "Well, if it isn't the two demon blood junkies," said the taller demon, smirking. "You two have quite the reputation…" he sneered. "I'm not impressed." Neither of the demons noticed the trap and advanced on the Winchesters.

"What'd you do with our brother?" Sam asked as the demons slowly approached.

"Oh, you'll find out," said the other smirking demon. "You two are actually about to join him." That was the precise moment when they hit the edge of the trap and could walk no further. Confusion showed on their faces as they looked at each other… and then a drop of blood hit one on the top of the head and he looked up, seeing the demon trap.

Alex and Sam were already on their way out, skirting the edge of the trap and escaping through the open door, running the way they'd heard Dean get dragged ten minutes ago.

The twins hurried through cell blocks and presently heard sounds of a fight somewhere nearby. However, because of the echoing in the prison, it was hard to tell where the sounds originated from. "Dean?!" Alex shouted.

"This way!" Sam said, taking off down another rusted and dirt-scattered hallway. They could hear Dean shouting and fighting someplace close. Sam burst through a set of double doors with his sister right on his heels. They found themselves in a huge kitchen and on the floor, Dean was wrestling two hungry ghouls back.

Sam came up short, stopping to stare for a second then looking around to locate something that could be used as a weapon. Alex however took a flying leap and tackled one of the ghouls off of Dean. Even as they rolled around on the ground, she clutched at his hair, trying to get a grip so that she could inflict head trauma, but he ended up getting the upper hand, pinning her down. "Smaller than the other one," he said, eyeing her like she looked tasty. "But I never minded a little snack."

He leaned close, intent to eat her. "Hey!" Sam swung a metal pipe at the ghoul's head like a baseball bat, cracking the skull on impact. The ghoul fell off Alex, dead. Staring up at her twin in mild surprise, Alex watched as he turned his attention to their brother.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean was shouting as he struggled nearby underneath a ghoul. "Get off of me, off of me!" Sam finished that one off too, knocking him off Dean and then stabbing the pipe down to crush the ghoul's skull completely. Just on her feet by then, Alex stared at Sam in more surprise. Everything Dean kept saying lately about how it was unsafe to be around Sam seemed untrue—he'd just saved both their lives for crying out loud.

Out of breath on the ground, Dean went limp in relief that the struggle was over. He shut his eyes for a second then reopened them with a sigh. He slowly stood up to join his siblings then looked down at the two dead ghouls and got a smug little smirk on his face. "Dinner… is not served," he wisecracked. He got two eye rolls for that groaner.

"Yeah great, Dean," Sam said. "Where's Meg?"

"How would I know that?" Dean asked, half indignant. "I was busy fighting off ghouls!"

"Calm down you two," Alex said, motioning for the door tiredly. "Let's go back where we saw her last."

The Winchesters retraced their steps carefully and encountered no one along the way—no demons, no Meg, no Cas, no Samuel. It was almost too quiet.

When they found the hallway where they'd been cut off by the Hellhounds, they found nothing but black blood splattering the halls. "Well she definitely did some damage," Dean muttered, crouching to finger some of the black blood pooling on the floor. That's when they heard a shrieking scream of pain from somewhere close.

---

Meg was tied down and stretched out naked to a torture chair. Leather bindings with devil's traps held her in place, making escape impossible. The demon possessing Christian Campbell smirked at her and sliced the jagged demon blade into the side of her thigh. She screamed in pain as he cut her slowly, maniacally. When he paused his work, Meg mouthed off. "You know, you're sticking that thing in all the wrong places."

"Really?" he purred. "You sure were squealing…"

"Knock yourself out," Meg returned, valiantly trying to sound nonplussed. "It's a host body. Some girl from Cheboygan, moved to LA to be an actress. It's probably not even the worst thing that ever happened to her."

"…Let's test that theory," the other demon replied softly, trailing the icy tip of the blade up her inner thigh and then plunging it into her completely. When Meg screamed, he just grinned sadistically and twisted the knife, furthering the blinding pain.

This is what the Winchesters walked into, and demon-on-demon torture or not, Meg or not, Dean and Alex were of one mind. Alex's angel blade was laid on the little table of torture instruments beside Christian. As Dean crept up quietly with Alex just behind, Meg caught sight of them and her shrieks of pain suddenly turned to shrieks of laughter.

Startled by the boisterous sound, Christian pulled the knife out, regarding Meg questioningly. "What are you laughing at?"

Alex tossed Dean the angel blade off the table. "Dean Winchester's behind you, meatsack," Meg murmured coyly even as Dean caught the blade. Dean stabbed an unwitting Christian in the back then kicked him off the blade dead.

Hanging back at the doorway Sam watched with an odd expression. He eyed Meg's naked and bloody body with distaste. "We should go. Hurry up."

Dean tossed Alex her blade and after she caught it, she wrinkled her nose at the demon blood on it, wiping it off on her jeans. Dean silently began to untie Meg's left wrist. Meg turned her head Alex's way, smiling saucily. "You came back for me, Ariel," she said in that playful, throaty voice of hers.

"I came back for this," Alex corrected, holding her blade up for emphasis and sticking it back into her jacket where it belonged. She grudgingly helped Dean untie Meg, who kept looking at Alex as a little smile played at her lips.

"Don't fall in love with me," Meg said in a voice dripping with deep self-pleasure at her imagined wit. Alex felt equal parts annoyed and embarrassed at smug demon eyeing her up right now. Locking lips with Meg and having her tongue shoved down her throat wasn't one of Alex's favorite things but Meg was apparently still thinking about it.

"I'll try not to," Alex retorted dryly. Dean rolled his eyes but said nothing. Sam however was smirking, seeming to find the exchange mildly amusing. Once all of the restraints were off, Meg's complete naked glory was on display and she sat up, seeming to enjoy the discomfort she created. She didn't cover herself or sit in a way that would be modest.

"So where's the hottie with the body?" Meg asked, apparently referring to Cas.

"Doesn't matter," Dean said, averting his gaze with a soured expression. "Put your clothes on."

"Where's the fun in that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and staring at Dean brazenly.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Move it or lose it, Meg," he rumbled, hefting the demon blade again from where it had been dropped on the floor. He turned to check out the room more in depth. Alex recognized the look in her brother's eyes. He was forming a plan to carry out what they'd come here to do: get Crowley. Even as she thought that, he was eyeing the fire alarm pull near the doorway into the room. "All right. I got an idea."

---

In a prison that hadn't been used properly in years, the fire alarm sounded with startling abruptness. The high-pitched yowling carried through the entire compound but there was a point of origin and Crowley followed it to the old rec room. What he found there was a dead Christian and an abandoned torture chair. The fire alarm abruptly stopped screaming and Crowley turned to see Dean standing at the fire alarm. Surprise showed on the King of Hell's face. "You should be ghoul scat by now," he said, a convincingly confused frown on his face. That's when he was hit in the back of the head with a wrench.

Crowley went flying and fell down from the blow, stunned momentarily.

Sam held the offending wrench, Dean pulled the demon blade out, Alex already had her angel blade at her side. They silently watched as Crowley picked himself back up indignantly.

"Was that really necessary? I just had this dry-cleaned!" None of the Winchesters said anything. The little smiles that rested mostly in their cool eyes must have alerted the King of Hell to the fact that they had the upper hand—he looked upwards to the ceiling and stopped dusting his hands off as he saw how a spray-painted devil's trap was suspended over his head. Crowley's face pinched slightly in distaste when he realized he was stuck. "So. To what do I owe the reach-around?"

Meg sauntered out from where she'd been hidden and waiting. She came to stand in the gap between Sam and Alex. "Crowley," she greeted, utter delight on her Hellhound-blood splattered face.

Surprise showed on Crowley's face when he laid eyes on her. Just as fast as surprise showed, he hid it in favor of cool, casual pleasantry. "Whore," he returned.

Meg's smile wavered. "Okay, you know what…" she raised her hand and clenched her fingers in together, using her demonic powers to injure Crowley. The King of Hell's eyes went wide as he coughed up blood. Meg gave Dean a little slide of the eyes. "The best torturers never get their hands dirty," she said in a velvety little drawl. As Crowley stayed doubled over, Meg turned her attention back to him and became all business. "Sam wants a word with you."

Crowley gave another pathetic cough and began to straighten. He was red in the face and had the look of nervousness. "What can I do for you, Sam?" he asked, his voice rougher than normal from whatever Meg had just done.

"You know damn well," Sam said softly, dangerously. "I want my soul back."

Meg appeared slightly taken aback at the revelation. "And here I thought you just grew some balls, Sam," she taunted.

Sam ignored her in favor of glowering at Crowley. "Well?"

"No."

Crowley's short and simple reply pissed Alex off. She was having a crap day and all of her frustrations were making her feel volatile. "We're not asking you," she said venomously, taking a step forward. "We're telling you."

Meg stepped up too, sending Alex a little flirty smile sidelong. "Actions speak louder than words, sweetie pie," she purred, then clenched her hand again, torturing Crowley without physically touching him once. Crowley fell to his knees, groaning in pain and spitting out blood, catching himself with both hands to keep from collapsing completely.

"My soul, now," Sam said, jabbing an impatient finger down roughly.

Crowley let loose a sound of frustration and pain alike. "I can't," he managed, looking up at Sam wretchedly. His face was beet red and a vein stuck out on his forehead.

"Can't or won't?" Sam demanded in increasing cold anger.

"I said 'can't.' I meant 'can't,' you mop-headed lumberjack," Crowley grumbled. He was glaring viciously. "I was lucky to get this much of you out." He pushed himself up from all fours to stand on his knees. Blood dripped down across the center of his lower lip as he continued to explain himself. "Going back in there for the sloppy bits? No way. I'm good, but those two in there? Forget it."

Alex was enraged completely. "You fucking liar!" she shouted, and Dean had to catch hold of her arms to stop her from mindlessly charging into the devil's trap.

"Guilty as charged, darling," Crowley conceded readily before looking back at Sam. "But that doesn't change anything. I'm telling you. Sam, why do you want the thing back?" He looked legitimately stumped which was strange. "Satan's got one juicy source of entertainment in there. I'd swallow a rag off a bathhouse floor before I took that soul. Unless you want to be a drooling mess."

Everyone was momentarily silent and stunned. "…Sam, I hate to say it, but he's right," Meg commented, frowning slightly like she was surprised at herself.

"Yeah, right," Sam said lowly, sounding done as he looked at Crowley with dark eyes. "I get it. Thanks." He glanced at Meg. "He's all yours."

"Whoa, what are you, crazy?" Dean gave his brother a dumbstruck look. "He's our only hope!"

"Dean, you heard him," Sam replied bluntly. "He can't get it. He's useless." He looked at the demon beside him. "Go crazy, Meg."

Meg made a face and wiggled her shoulders like she was thinking oh boy. She looked at Dean expectantly as she held out an eager hand and made a gimme motion. The oldest Winchester looked pretty annoyed about it but he handed over the demon blade grudgingly, giving Meg a challenging look as he did. She took it while smiling and then turned to look at Crowley in barely veiled excitement.

"Never thought the day I'd be jealous of Meg," Alex muttered, glaring at a very befuddled looking Crowley. She clenched her blade tighter at her side, wary of either demon trying something funny.

Meg paused at the edge of the devil's trap before entering and looked back at the Winchesters with narrowed eyes. "You'll let me back out… right?" Sam and Dean nodded, Alex just made a face.

Meg entered the devil's trap then stood over Crowley victoriously. He was still on his knees. Her voice was cruel and vengeful. "This is for Lucifer, you pompous little—"

Crowley's weakness suddenly disappeared—perhaps it had been an act, Alex thought briefly as the following happened: He seized Meg by the wrist and yanked her forward, kicked her in the ankle, got the knife, stood up, then rocketed the blade upward into the devil's trap, severing the hold it had on him.

In tandem all three of the Winchesters took a step backwards as the tables turned.

"That's better," Crowley commented lightly as he crossed the severed border of the devil's trap then raised his hands up. He waved them opposite directions offhandedly and on either side of Alex a brother went flying. Sam and Dean were pinned flat against opposite walls uselessly even as Alex whipped her blade up. She was too slow. She was yanked forward through the air at superhuman speeds. Her neck slammed into Crowley's waiting hand where he held her with bruising fingers and the force of impact jarred her, hurt, and knocked all the wind out of her. Her blade clattered to the floor as she stupidly listened to the wrong instinct and grabbed at his wrist with both hands in an effort to lessen his death-grip on her windpipe.

Behind Crowley, Meg shot back up to her feet and found herself at the end of the demon blade—Crowley had won. He looked back at Meg as he held a silent and struggling Alex with his other hand. "You don't know torture, you little insect," he told Meg in a sharp and smug voice. "Angel girl over here scares me more than you do." Was that a joke? Alex clawed at his hand, trying to toe her angel blade closer, squinting her eyes closed against the crushing pain of Crowley's iron grip.

A familiar sound came to Alex's ears just then and even as she realized it was Cas reappearing, she was let go of as Crowley and Meg both went flying backwards as if hit by a great blast of wind. Almost comically, Crowley rolled ass over head and came to a stop in a heap against a brick column about ten feet away. Alex fell backwards into the strong and familiar grip of Castiel—he got her by both arms and broke her fall firmly before Crowley had even stopped rolling.

Dean and Sam fell down at the same moment that Crowley hit the ground. The King of Hell scrambled up to his feet and his temporary smugness was gone as he realized he was now facing an angel and three very pissed off Winchesters. A nervous smile crossed his face as he took a step back, using the wall beside himself for balance. "Castiel, haven't seen you all season," he joked halfheartedly, eyeing the demon blade that he'd dropped. "You the cavalry now?"

Cas righted Alex and brushed past her, eyeing Crowley with cool temperature. "It would seem that I am." He stooped and took up the demon blade, eyeing it with the ghost of a smile.

"Ah come off it, Cas," Crowley simpered nervously as he eyed Cas and the demon blade. "You're all bark and no bite. Hear you're losing out to Raphael. The whole affair makes Vietnam look like a roller derby." Crowley craned his neck to the side a little to peer at something behind everyone else. "Hey, what's in the gift bag?"

Everyone looked to see what Crowley meant. A burlap sack rested on the ground behind everyone, close to where Cas had reappeared. Cas went to the bag and looked at Crowley with a dark expression in his eyes as he kicked a fold aside to reveal a human skull. "You are."

Crowley's little smile fell. "Not possible."

Alex gaped too. How did Cas find those? Cas looked at Crowley dangerously. "You didn't hide your bones as well as you should have."

Crowley was furious underneath his outward mask and it showed. Still, he began to clap mockingly. "Cookie for you."

"Can you restore Sam's soul or not?" Cas asked sharply. Wait, had he been present for the conversation before Meg went into the demon trap? How did he know that Crowley said he couldn't restore the soul?

She didn't get an answer. Crowley eyed Sam and Dean, who looked ready to kill. "If I could help out in any other way…" he offered pitifully.

"Answer him!" Dean thundered.

Crowley faltered, nervousness making him look jumpy. "I can't." Why wasn't he running? Alex wondered that just before the next thing happened.

Cas was dark and foreboding at Crowley's declaration. "That settles it then." Without anything further, the angel held his hand out over the sack of bones and flames leapt out under his command, consuming the sack immediately. Crowley screamed and convulsed as he stumbled forward, flames engulfing him and burning his skin, clothes, bones all at once. In less than five seconds he was reduced into nothing but a pile of ash on the floor. It was shockingly fast and over before anyone even had the chance to fully process it.

Except perhaps Meg, who saw how she was completely outnumbered. With Crowley's spell gone, she disappeared into thin air. In a bit of a daze, Dean took the demon blade from Cas, who offered it his way. "Well, she's smart, I'll give her that," Dean said with mild chagrin. "I was gonna kill her, too."

"Not if I didn't beat you to it," Alex muttered, reeling from what had just happened. Goodbye Crowley. She thought she should feel better about him being wiped off the face of the earth.

"What, you'd kill your girlfriend?" Dean teased about Meg, drawing Alex back to the moment.

That earned him a shut up, stupid look. She then turned her attention to Cas, who'd been blasted away painfully by her asshole grandfather not that long ago. He seemed a little disturbed by what had just happened—even though his face was stoic, she imagined herself good at reading him (or at least better than a strange would be). "You okay, Cas?" she asked. "How are you back so soon?"

He met her gaze with some hesitation. "Samuel's sigil, it wasn't entirely correct," Cas answered, then his eyes darted anyway almost guiltily as he answered Alex's first question. "I'm fine."

Dean and Sam were quiet and a little stunned, same as their sister. "How'd you find his bones?" Dean asked. He sounded sort of awed at Cas, who looked increasingly uncomfortable.

"I… tasked lesser angels to the matter," he replied as he turned slightly, giving the impression that he was restless. "It was a stroke of luck, finding the bones when they did." Cas let his gaze wander tensely over the dank room. "We should leave this place." He gave them no choice in the matter. Without touching any of them, he moved them all back to the outside of the prison where they'd first arrived earlier that night. The switch was startling, especially since it was dark outside still. Sunrise was still an hour or two away. They were all beside the Impala now and the dark prison was quiet beyond the chain link fence encasing it.

Dean was the first one to speak. He was adopting a briefly enthusiastic attitude as it sank in for them all again: Crowley was dead and gone. That was a small positive in the sea of negatives they were left with. "Well… good bye Crowley!" he said, letting a little happily-disbelieving laugh escape before he turned to Cas with a grin. "That was straight up bad ass, buddy." He clapped Castiel on the shoulder and Cas winced. That couldn't have possibly hurt him—Alex looked at the angel oddly. Did he feel guilty for killing Crowley or something?

"Please, Dean," Cas said heavily, avoiding looking at Dean. "I don't need the flattery."

The angel's lack of enthusiasm killed Dean's little smile off and the brief moment was lost. Dean got businesslike. He was a little embarrassed at himself. "Uh, okay, sorry," he said, backing off. "But… for real," Dean continued, more calmly and seriously than before. "Thanks Cas. If it hadn't been for you…"

Cas looked almost pained at the gratitude being expression. "Please, don't thank me for that," he said, eyes downcast.

"Why?" Dean asked, spreading his arms out and trying to knock some sense into Cas. "You just killed the King of Hell! And saved our asses. I mean it, Cas. Thanks."

Cas met Dean's gaze grudgingly. "You're welcome."

Something wasn't right here, and Dean silently studied Cas for two seconds, trying to figure out what. "What's wrong with you, Cas?" he asked, genuinely confused and a little worried. Alex was the same: standing there quietly with a deeply observant frown on her face as she watched Cas, who stood beside her.

Cas paused, his features terse. "Crowley was right. It's…" he looked upward briefly. "Not going well for me upstairs. Not at all."

Dean nodded grim understanding and offered assistance readily because Cas had just done them the biggest solid in existence. "Well do you need help? If there's anything we can do—"

"There isn't," Cas said firmly, looking at Dean with pained eyes. "I wish circumstances were different." He looked agonized emotionally and his jaw tightened as he looked down. "I'd much rather be here."

"Yeah, we get that," Dean said sympathetically, seeing how Cas's gaze flickered to Alex and hers to him. "Loud and clear," he said, chuckling kind of ruefully. He heaved a sigh inside as he watched them for a couple seconds. They looked like people who loved each other and cared about each other and it was gross and puke-worthy and kind of (kind of) sweet. He'd never admit that last part aloud for the sake of pride. Cas really was proving himself to be an okay guy these days. Like it or not, Dean was starting to accept Cas was going to be a fixture in the Winchester world. And maybe that fact wasn't as terrible as he'd thought it was once upon a time. Looking at Cas now Dean saw someone who had the weight of the world on his shoulders—and Dean knew what that was like. "Look, Cas, we know you got a steaming pile on your plate," he said, catching Cas's attention again. "It's not easy for any of us right now. There's no need for apologies. We're your friends."

Genuine relief, however faint, relaxed Cas's features a little. "Thank you Dean." Cas looked at Sam then—the middle Winchester had been silent and watchful with his hands stuck in his jacket pockets this entire time. He stood off a little bit from everyone else. "Listen, Sam, we'll find another way," Cas said to him.

Sam nodded vacantly in what appeared to be disinterest. "You really wanna help?" He nodded toward the prison. "Prison full of monsters. Can't just leave 'em, can't let 'em go."

Cas followed Sam's gaze and his face clouded over. He nodded briefly. "I understand." He looked at Alex, whose silence Dean found odd. Cas and spoke to her softly in that deep gravelly voice of his. "I'll be back in a moment." And he disappeared without anything further.

Sam leaned his clasped hands onto the Impala hood opposite of his siblings. "Well, looks we have our answer on that."

"What, about your soul?" Dean asked, then shook his head, determined not to let it go. "No, he's right, we'll figure something else out."

Sam shook his head faintly, detached and unaffected. "No, we won't."

Alex tried to put in her opinion at that point. She sounded tired. "Look, there's gotta be someone else who'll know something or be able t—"

"There's not. You heard what Crowley said," Sam interrupted, looking at her with a hard gaze and then Dean. "And I heard what Cas said. Putting this thing back in would smash me to bits."

Confusion overtook Alex. "What?"

"Yeah," Sam said, glancing at her briefly. "Your boyfriend's holding out on you."

Predictably, Alex looked to Dean for explanation but he had another crisis to deal with: Sam. "Look," Dean said, voice toughening slightly in authority as he lectured his brother. "Cas said he didn't know for sure what your soul would do to you once we get it back."

"Yeah well you know what?" Sam's voice was gathering volume and roughness, too. "When angels and demons agree on something, call me nuts, I pay attention!"

"You say this now?" Dean asked, feeling a little disillusioned. This is what they'd spent months chasing and pursuing and now Sam just wanted to give up? "After we practically died trying to—"

"Exactly!" Sam cut him off brusquely. "We almost got ourselves killed. I mean, how many times do I risk my ass for this? Enough's enough, I don't think I want it back." He paced off a few steps, seeming to contemplate walking off completely.

Dean did that thing oldest siblings did sometimes where he decided he knew what Sam was feeling more than Sam did. "You don't even know what you're saying," he said, because Sam—the real Sam would never say any of this stuff.

Sam turned sharply and looked at Dean dead on, almost in warning. "No, I'm saying something you don't like," he corrected rudely. "You obviously care, a lot, and that's great." Sam sounded like he couldn't have meant that any less, like he was annoyed with Dean's attempts to reason with him. "But I'm pretty sure I'm better off without it."

"You're wrong," Dean said, shaking his head hollowly. His stomach felt twisted with anxiety. "You are so wrong."

Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Dean." He turned and walked off into the darkness, footsteps crunching on the gravel road.

"Sam, don't walk away," Dean said, then raised his voice to a shout when Sam kept walking without a pause or backward glance. "Sam! Sam!" He took a second, telling himself not to, then made to march after his brother. Alex caught his arm to stop him.

"Just give him a couple minutes, Dean," she said in a weary voice. Dean almost told her to let go and let him go after Sam, because giving him a couple minutes to cool off was real Sam stuff and soulless Sam wasn't like that, wouldn't calm down and listen to reason no matter how long you gave him. But when she grabbed his arm, Dean let the pause linger and he changed his mind and didn't follow after Sam. He gave up—because he was too tired to keep doing this shit.

The two of them watched Sam's hulking figure disappear off into the darkness for a long moment before Alex spoke up again in a quiet and worried voice. "Cas really said Sam's soul would… smash him to bits?"

Dean let out a quiet gust of weary breath. He didn't want her to know this because like Cas, he'd wanted at least someone to have hope. But he wasn't gonna lie to her about it either. "I mean, think about it," Dean said, looking down at a shoe. "He's had all that time down in the cage with Lucy and Mike… soul got kicked around in there. Might not be such a good idea to put it back in Sam. If we figure out some way to get it out."

Alex's profile was tense and worried beyond her years as she stared off into the night with a tight jaw for a long, silent moment. "And Cas knew this all along?"

Dean shrugged mildly. "Said he didn't want you to worry about it."

Alex's mouth hardened momentarily. "That's kinda sweet," she said grumpily. "But it also kind of pisses me off." Dean smiled a little at that. She wasn't smiling. Frowning royally, she looked at Dean accusingly. "Why do you both do that? Treat me like I can't handle the things you can?"

"Look, we're just trying to protect you," Dean defended, then realized maybe his honest answer was the wrong one.

"Oh, so it's a team effort now to hold out on me?"

Dean couldn't do this with her tonight, just couldn't. "Come on, Al," he mumbled tiredly, wanting to avoid a fight at all costs. "Don't be like that."

"I just want Sam to be okay and I'm his sister, I should know this kind of stuff!" she protested. "Do you know how much time I spend tearing myself apart inside over what's happened to him?" Dean took in her honest and guilty expression and it killed him, especially when her face twisted up into that pleading look she used to give him in younger years. The one she made when she needed him to tell her everything was going to be okay. "What if he's never the same again? Ever?" She looked like she could have cried at the question she was asking and Dean took her by both shoulders firmly to get her to listen.

"I'm gonna find a damn way, you hear me?" he asked in a focused voice as he tried to catch her downcast gaze. "I'll find a way, I don't care how." He believed himself too as he spoke with such vehement determination.

Instead of looking relieved, she looked further disturbed as her eyes snapped up to his. "Don't say that," she said in a voice that was clearly scared. "Don't you even think about doing the kind of crap you did before."

Dean realized what she'd inferred from his words and he was a little stricken that she'd worry about him making another soul deal. Shutting his eyes as he understood her fears, Dean pulled her into his arms and hugged her guiltily, kicking himself for not thinking more carefully about what he said to her. "Come on, trust me, I'm not going down that road again," he told her in a little voice. "You know that." He felt her nod stiffly and Dean let go. He felt pretty shitty overall and clearly so did she.

She cleared her throat and wiped underneath an eye, wouldn't look him directly. "Dean, if Cas isn't optimistic…" she said, then didn't finish the sentence. "I mean, he always knows this stuff."

Yeah, maybe Cas did, but Dean didn't care what Cas knew or didn't know. Dean Winchester didn't give up—it didn't matter about the facts or the odds. It was about never, ever giving up on each other. It kind of seemed like Alex was getting close to giving up, so that's why he told her what he did next. "I'm not throwing in the towel yet and neither are you."

She looked at him with dejected and frustrated eyes then toward the prison restlessly. Crickets chirped pleasantly and Dean thought of how ironic that was. Castiel reappeared just then out of thin air, startling him a little. "I've done as you asked," he said grimly.

Dean nodded his earnest gratitude once he got over the momentary surprise. "Thanks Cas. Makes our day a whole helluva lot easier."

… Now what, though? Dean saw how Alex and Cas were trying not to gaze at each other, but were failing. Saps. "You have to cut and run?" Dean asked the angel, trying to get his attention.

Cas seemed to remember Dean and paid attention to him again. "No. I don't have to return to Heaven yet." He frowned, noticing the missing Winchester. "Where has Sam gone to?"

Dean batted an invisible something away as he darkened. "Ah, little soulless twerp's being a drama queen again," he muttered, then forced a less bitchy tone. "I gotta go find him and talk him into getting in the car with me." Cas listened with that familiar stern and unreadable expression on his face. Dean glanced at Alex meaningfully as he questioned Cas. "Can you take her and her ride back to Bobby's?"

Just like Dean had privately predicted, Alex reacted badly. "What?" Her momentary surprise morphed into an indignant expression. "Dean, I don't want to go back to Bobby's." Her tone was warning, like she was telling him he'd better not make this decision for her.

Dean nodded his grave understanding but stuck by his guns even though he knew it was about to get a little ugly. "Look. I get that." He glanced at Cas, who knew what he knew—how Sam had threatened Alex's life to Cas's face just a couple hours ago. They had agreed not to tell her, not until they absolutely had to. "But Sam's not stable right now and not safe to be around."

Alex was not having it. She looked at Cas and Dean like they were nuts. "You two act like he's out to kill me or something! Or even worse like I can't defend myself!"

Tired and not in the mindset to fight with her, Dean was very blasé in his response to her. "We know you can, but Sam's not a safe bet right now."

"He saved our lives today!" Alex protested in desperation, sweeping an arm out for effect. "Both of us!"

Dean looked at his sister meaningfully. He didn't want her to know that if he didn't figure something out soon he might have to kill Sam. "Go with me on this one," he coaxed, wishing he could make her understand without totally devastating her. More bitterness and anger showed on her face. "Look," Dean told her with utter seriousness. He was jaded and weary. "Your big brother and your boyfriend may not agree all the time, but we both want you as far away from Sam as possible." Alex looked at Cas like she found that confounding and unthinkable before she looked back at Dean. "I just need to figure some stuff out, Al."

"What stuff?!" she exploded, getting riled up because Dean wasn't budging. "Why are you leaving me out of the loop, Dean?" she accused. "That wasn't part of the deal! Did you not hear what I was saying to you two minutes ago?!"

Dean shook his head and gave her a tight little sad attempt at a smile. "Sorry, kiddo. I'll call you in a couple days, all right?" Alex was gonna be mad about this one, but Dean needed to go find Sam and deal with that. He looked at Cas, who seemed to understand this was coming. "Take her back to Bobby's, Cas."

Alex's mouth dropped open as her eyebrows slammed together in a deeply resisting expression. "De—" she started, but her brother disappeared from in front of her eyes and instead of Dean she was staring at the dark attic. Where her brother had been there was now a familiar ceiling-high bookshelf. She whirled, shocked and indignant. "Cas!" She couldn't believe him and was so mad she could have spit. "What, you just do whatever my brother tells you now?!" She trembled and pointed at the floor for emphasis with a deadly serious expression. "Take me back there now."

Cas's eyes seemed sad. He made no move to do what she said. "Alex, please understand," he said quietly, as if attempting to reason with her. He wasn't going to do what she said, and it was obvious. "Dean and I feel that it's not safe for you near Sam right now and that—"

"I don't need you and my brother making decisions for me!" Alex almost shouted. Was he for real right now? Was he really going to force her into doing what he and Dean so obviously wanted?

Brief frustration showed on his face. "Perhaps you do need us making decisions for you if you would choose recklessness otherwise."

Her mouth dropped open again as her eyebrows shot up high. Unbelievable! "What are you talking about?! My whole life is reckless!" she protested. She ran a furious hand through her the hair on her scalp as she turned away in an attempt to gather herself because she hadn't been this mad in a long time. She couldn't handle what her life was right now—a shell of her former glory and the past few months had been ridiculous—besides helping on a couple hunts she'd accomplished nothing and done nothing and the men in her life trying to sideline her was not acceptable any longer. Infuriated anew at the thought of Cas and Dean clearly conspiring to shut her away into so-called 'safety,' she turned back to Cas as she shook. "I'm not asking for the moon, I just want to help, to contribute, to do something goddammit!" Her frustration was mounting to insane levels and she wanted to smack him across the face or cry or possibly both. "This is my family! Sam's not gonna hurt me, you and Dean are being ridiculous!"

"You don't know that Sam will not hurt you," Cas insisted earnestly, his voice raising just slightly. Despite his calmer reactions, Alex could see how he was trying to reign in some frustration with her. "Listen to me, Alex. I have reasons behind my actions," he told her in a forceful tone. "I understand your exasperation, but I have to ask you to please trust me." His eyes appealed to her in a gentle way and his voice softened. "I am attempting to keep you safe."

"You're not trying to keep me safe, you and Dean are trying to control me!" she snapped. "If one more person tries to control me I'm gonna lose my damn mind, Cas," she seethed and then smacked a book off the stack of boxes she stood near. She was too mad to think about what she was saying and it came out of her like a furious volcanic eruption. "I'm a hunter! I'm a Winchester! And you're all acting like I'm made out of glass, like I didn't spend the entire last year on my own! I did just fine without you and Dean there to baby me or did you forget?!"

Abruptly crestfallen and hurt by her words, Cas was silent for a long beat in which Alex became unbearably regretful about what she'd just said. That had been out of line and she realized it as soon as she said it, but even more so as his face continued to grow more and more remorseful and sad. "No. I did not forget," he said quietly, looking down for a long moment at the reminder of their painful and silent separation. "I remember that every hour of every day."

His shoulders had slumped and his expression was deeply ashamed. Alex wanted to kick herself. She swallowed against a painful lump and her voice wavered a little. "Cas, I didn't mean—"

He uncharacteristically interrupted. "It is not my intention to make you feel coddled." He looked downward in deep frustration and clenched his jaw and Alex was ashamed of herself all over again even though she was still angry too. However, shame and anger couldn't win out over the thing she felt the most: frustration. Helplessness. The very strong desire to beat her head into a wall.

"Well how am I supposed to feel?" Alex asked earnestly while looking at him in rising emotion. "I'm frustrated, Cas!" Her voice was high and tight with the threat of tears. She refused to cry though and shook her head, looked down as her voice lowered to a rough and irritated whisper. "I'm so damn frustrated."

It wasn't a good apology. It wasn't an apology at all. But she felt too scraped dry emotionally to even know how to say the right thing. Sam might be forever-soulless and Dean was pushing her away and she couldn't seem to hold it together for Cas… the men in her life imagined her weak and defenseless… everything sucked. And there was space between her and Cas. Too much space. Cas stood off about four feet, and those four feet seemed impossible to cross. Alex was too afraid of rejection. She just wanted to ask him to forget it all and just hold her.

Just earlier that night Cas had seemed endlessly in love with her and they'd been close, intimate, and passionate for however snatched a moment. It seemed a lifetime ago and she couldn't fathom it at the current moment with him standing off with his arms slack at his sides and eyes so hurt as they looked upon her.

"I know that you are frustrated," he said after a moment, clearly trying very hard to be respectful of her feelings. "But please. Try to understand…" he drifted a step closer, making her heart leap involuntarily. He was watching her closely, studying her reaction to his nearing presence. "I know that you are not made out of glass as you say. But…" he came another step closer and the love and worry in his eyes killed her. "The thought of you being in danger without me there to protect you is…" his voice weakened, "terrifying to me." His anxiety bled in to her and she tried to remember that she was still kinda mad at him. It was getting pretty difficult to do so though. He was close now and he appeared heartbroken as he touched the side of her head, let his thumb brush her cheek. Waves of physical comfort washed over her at his touch and she leaned into his hand without even realizing it. His eyes clung to hers. "If something more happens to you than what already has because of my absence, Alex… I couldn't bear it." He went silent for a long moment.

What Alex couldn't know was the source of the guilt and pain and fear in Cas at that moment was due to his increasing terror that his dishonesty and deception would be discovered before the right time, that his beloved Alex would reject him and tell him the truth he already suspected of himself: that he was no better than a demon. The greatest fear he possessed was her rejecting him for what he had done and the deal he had made. But he was in too deep and too far gone and was left no choice but to continue forward. He was doing this for her, for them, for their future. He had no one to turn to except her yet he couldn't share his most painful and frightening burden with her. He had to carry it alone and he knew that. But because of the gnawing terror and the growing anxiety that she would revile him in the end, he was increasingly desperate to prove himself to her in whatever way he could. He needed to be the man that she believed him to be. He wanted to bury himself in her and forget every other thing in existence, he wanted her to take him away from himself and the reality he had built. However illogical, however selfish, he wanted to seize her and release his frustrations and fears upon her. He felt caged within himself and out of control and terrified to lose her. A shell of who he was supposed to be.

Alex looked at Cas in heightening worry. He shook his head as his eyebrows pressed in closer and he put his other hand on the other side of her head as he studied her with his intense eyes that were full of years she couldn't even begin to grasp.

"You are the single-most driving force in my existence," he told her, making her stomach flip around. Every sentence he said became more unbearably intense and thrilling and terrifying. "You are the most important thing," he continued, tone softening to a fierce murmur. His husky voice carried burdens and worries she didn't understand. "Everything I'm doing is for you." He paused and pain hid in the depths of his azure gaze. "Everything." He sounded almost afraid at that point and he still held her face in his hands. His face was drifting closer and he looked hungry and desperate and anxious. "If I don't have you, I have nothing." He was almost scaring her at this point because everything he said was scaring him—she could hear it in his voice. "I need you safe," he said in a voice that seemed more a plea than anything else. His voice softened even more and she could barely hear him. Why did he look so freaked out? "I… need you."

When he said he needed her, Alex felt the same, and all of the frustration—sexual and otherwise—made her volatile. Fuck this conversation. She didn't want words or painful discussions or any more of this howling insecurity. What she wanted was something much simpler. She wanted it rough and hard and now and as such she acted on impulse and grabbed him, kissing him openly and passionately to convey her starvation. Fractionally surprised at the suddenness and intensity of her kiss, Cas still embraced her readily. He was much more gentle than she was and it made her mad—she wanted brutal and he was being tender. She decided to send the message more clearly. He let her turn him and shove him against the bookcase hard, hard enough that books fell down to the floor with loud thumps. He seemed to understand a little better and his arms tightened around her hard so that their bodies crushed against each other and their hips ground together. Yes—a wretched and indistinct gasp of approval escaped her mouth. One of his hands tangled in the hair at the back of her head and fiery pleasure consumed her as his hot tongue nudged against hers. His touch chased away the bad feelings. Totally addicted to the effect he had on her, Alex kissed him all the more feverishly. God, she'd missed him and this—she needed him so bad at the most basic level.

He matched her fervor increasingly, grabbing at her face and kissing her hard before shoving her jacket off her shoulders with both hands as she pushed at his coat and jacket in tandem. It was like a physical fight the jerky yanking way they grabbed and whipped their coats off each other. They crashed against each other anew and made out like there was no tomorrow, hot and heavy with hands all over each other as they got more and more frenzied and noisy. Cas reached up and ripped his own tie off sideways (quite literally ripped it, Alex heard the tearing sound) and she grabbed two fistfuls of his dress shirt and tore it open. Buttons went flying and skittering as Alex pressed both hands to his chest. Cas's hands were abruptly on either side of her waist underneath her shirt—he took control from her and whirled them a hundred and eighty degrees to shove her into the bookcase pretty vigorously. She cried out when her back collided with the wooden shelf—that would definitely leave a bruise. Cas stopped and pulled back, surprise and dismay showing on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn—"

Alex didn't want to hear it or be treated like a delicate flower and she let him know by yanking him back to her by the shirt with one hand and tugging at his belt buckle with the other. "Just shut up and fuck me, Cas," she growled against his lips, pissed off at the thought of him not doing exactly what she said.

So imagine her surprise when he obeyed her to the letter without a single protest. His expression darkened and he pushed her against the bookcase again, hard, suffocating her with a delicious kiss as he ripped her jeans at the zipper in his hurry. A surprised and appreciative gasp came out of Alex's mouth into his as he shoved her jeans and underwear down to her knees then stepped onto the middle part with his shoe, effectively smashing her pants down to her ankles. He batted her hand aside and single-handedly fumbled with his own zipper and pulled her hair with the other hand, his tongue creating more inferno in her veins as he continued to kiss her deeply and wildly. She held onto his arms with tight hands. Holy shit, he was actually doing what she said—and fast too. It had been awhile for them both, after all, and he was just as frustrated as her… obviously. She heard his belt clinking and the sound of his slacks swishing down and he still had his white dress-shirt halfway on; she still had her jeans and underwear around her ankles and shirt shoved up to her ribcage but Cas didn't seem to care and was set on giving her what she'd commanded of him not even fifteen seconds ago.

Alex whimpered in anxious expectation as he nudged her legs apart with a knee. Her fingers clawed into his arms hard in anticipation—she would die if he wasn't inside of her in the next second. Cas put one foot then the other into the gap made by her legs and the jeans at her ankles even as he yanked her up by the thighs with both hands, shoving her upwards along the bookshelf. The second it became possible, he thrust himself inside of deeply and pulling her hips down flush to his—he gave a helpless sound of pleasure even as a deeply guttural cry escaped her lips. His fingers dug into her back tightly and she saw stars. She locked her arms around his neck and let her fingernails bite into the skin at the back of his neck as her body reveled in him. She was far gone, past the point of return, lost in physical bliss. It wasn't like usual. They didn't kiss each other. Instead, their faces turned in towards each other's necks and their hands tangled in each other's hair as their ragged breaths and distressed whimpers mixed together. Castiel did exactly what Alex had asked and fucked her against the bookshelf—urgent, fast, messy, hard, in a way that seemed to be alien of him. Too caught up in the fever to care, Alex hung on for dear life, vaguely noticing how his hand behind her back took the force of impact each time he slammed her against the bookshelf. More books tumbled off haphazardly as the entire shelf quaked and shivered. It sounded like the house was going to come down around them.

Cas was making the hottest sounds in the world: low and soft panting grunts. She felt each one that left his mouth against her neck in a hot breath and she held onto him harder, angry and desperate and so turned on. She crossed her legs more tightly behind him and pulled him even deeper with a vengeance like she was trying to win a battle. They both gave strangled sounds and Cas suddenly seized her by the face, his thumb at the corner of her mouth and she turned her head and sucked on the tip of that digit without thinking. Cas looked mystified and even more aroused than before, kissing her mouth with his thumb still stuck into the corner of her mouth then dragging wetly across her cheek. Alex pushed a hand against his chest, and when her palm smoothed over one of his nipples, she did what she'd never done before: pinched hard. Cas made a startled, strained sound and very pleased with the effect, Alex hummed against his mouth in what would have been a laugh… but that laugh turned into a cry as she began to feel the unmistakable ramping onset of climax. Stunned at how good it felt and how good it was about to get, she murmured his name in a pleading and tight voice as she grabbed onto him tight. He understood, seizing her at the back of the neck with one hand. His forehead knocked into hers, his nose smashed against hers as he thrust them both over the edge. They lost composure at the exact same instant and the small space of the attic was chaos of urgent gasps and heavy breathing and begging moans. The bookshelf shuddered underneath the last slowing movements Cas made.

Just like that, it was over and they were both staring breathlessly at each other with sort of surprised expressions. Wow. Maybe we should argue more often… and just when she thought it had gotten as good as it could get, he showed her it could get better. He leaned in then to kiss her mouth gently and sweetly and that time it was okay with her. Her thirst for more violent things was gone. Her eyes fell closed and she made the softest mmm sound, kissing him back in the same way. When he pulled back and she opened her eyes back up to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes, the look on his face was strange—dark and hungry and predatory and Alex was faintly confused… especially when his hands went behind himself where her ankles were crossed and her jeans were bunched. There was a loud rip as he abruptly tore her jeans and underwear down the middle then pulled himself out of her without warning to lower her down off of him. She stood on wobbly legs, leaning against the shelves for support. A little blindsided at his sudden action and the loss of him inside, Alex was frowning in confusion. Gee thanks for ruining one of the only good pair of jeans I have le—eft… ohh…

He very firmly took hold of the the side of her face and tilted her jaw to the side so that he could kiss her neck leisurely. In the afterglow, the touches felt heavenly on her sensitive skin and she forgot her ripped jeans, gently grasped his wrist as her eyes fluttered closed. Okay then… this is nice. She was pliable and soft to his lips and touches which were slow and left zings of pleasant feelings scattered across her skin. She sighed, tingling all over with satisfaction. She was content to just let Cas kiss her like that and kiss her he did: down her neck slowly and lazily. He kneaded a breast absently through her shirt as he did. Alex was forced to let out a soft moan when he did that. She was surprised at herself because she had just been satisfied, yet him touching her like that made her faintly consider becoming aroused again. His lips left her neck and he pushed her shirt up further with both hands and trailed more kisses onto her bare stomach as he crouched a little to do so. Alex watched, still dazed and content from what had just happened a minute ago. Lazily, her fingers rested in his hair as she watched him press a slow kiss to a hipbone. Then he let some fingers graze down through the dark curls between her legs. Wait…

Cas knelt in front of her and his face was very close to the space between her legs. He kissed the front of her thigh then moved inward slowly with careful and soft kisses. Alex watched in utter fixation, wondering what he was doing. It looked like he might be about to, um, go down on her, but he'd never done anything like that right after an orgasm. And she felt satisfied. He didn't need to do anything else. Still, he was wandering her bare thighs with his kisses, his fingers loosely against the backs of either knee. The touches were electric and pleasing and her body felt like it was in some sort of fog of blissful sensation. It was dark in the room and the slats of moonlight across the floor hid most of him from her—all she saw was part of his beautiful and intent face thanks to a strip of moonlight.

His eyes drifted up to hers at the moment when he brazenly let his mouth brush against the juncture of her legs. She gasped in anxiety and jumped slightly at the gentle touch of his lips to the very sensitive area. It was even more sensitive than usual because of the climax and she grabbed hold of his head. What was he doing?! Slowly and gently he pulled her closer to him by the backs of the legs, covering her with his warm mouth and drawing an anxiety-riddled groan from her as she bit her lip. Cas, it doesn't work like that, I don't think I can just get off again right after I just did…! He pulled one of her legs up over his shoulder and gently grasped her by the butt and tilted her hips upward, giving himself more full access. She felt his soft tongue shyly nudge her. Holy crap—a deeply anxious sound ripped out of her mouth and her head fell back even as she clenched the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder. It was so so sensitive but felt amazing.

Castiel had never performed oral sex the way she'd seen it done in porn—guys used their mouths fast and hard like they were on a gung-ho mission. Cas did it his own way, a way she loved. It was exploratory and gentle and always felt amazing but she'd never gotten off on it before. She remained slack against the bookshelf, a hand clenched onto the shelf beside her for support. He continued his work and sent insane pleasure ricocheting through her from the epicenter of the tender place he was pleasuring so sweetly. This was the most intimate and deeply vulnerable thing for Alex, who found herself biting her lip again and watching him with quickening breath. It felt almost like she could get into this, maybe reach the peak again. His eyes flicked up to hers at that moment and she wanted to die from the heat that sent coursing through her. His hands skimmed up to rest on the lowest sides of her waist. Of their own accord, her hips moved against his face in an attempt to gain even more pressure and purchase. Even as she did that, Alex tried not to do that again because she felt bashful about practically humping his face.

When she stopped herself purposefully and held her breath (because Christ, the pressure was building again unbelievably), Cas seized her by a butt cheek and rocked her hips forward for her like she'd been doing. He closed his eyes and made a soft sound like he loved what was happening. Ungh oh god. Alex watched him with confounded amazement and noisy breathing as he made her hips move back and forth against his mouth—with the friction came increasing tight feelings of spiraling buildup. She had zero control at the moment and it was exhilarating and crazy… that plus the sight of his face buried between her legs like that? She surrendered to the effect, getting more and more lost in the build as his speed increased, as the incomparable pleasure made her weak. And she suddenly realized it really was going to happen again—and then it did.

With a desperate cry that was a bit shocked (it felt even more intense the second time it happened for her), she lurched and seized violently, bracing both hands onto his shoulders as she came on his mouth. She almost fell over as the orgasm made her lose control over herself in that brief moment—she caught herself with her forearms bracing onto his shoulders as he drew her ecstasy out and crushed her against his mouth. When it had finished, her forehead was resting against the top of his head and one leg was limp over his other shoulder where he'd placed it a minute ago. He looked up at her in what could only be adoration. He pressed a hand to the side of her face as if to support her weary neck—he studied her for a moment as she recovered, breathing heavily with a flushed face.

Amazed and wondering what the hell had possessed Cas to do that (but not minding, nope, not one bit), she wobbled as Cas moved her leg off his shoulder. Her legs were weak and shaky, not unlike a baby giraffe who had just been born. Cas stood, holding her steady the entire time. She looked into his eyes, trying to see what sort of madness had seized him to do that. "That was…" she breathed, shaking her head. She didn't know a word for it and looked at him questioningly, trying to figure him out. How did he do that? She'd never had orgasms so close together. Still against the bookshelf, she felt like she might never move again. Cas leaned in and kissed her mouth wordlessly, a hand splaying into the curve of her spine to gently draw her close. She tasted herself on his tongue and lips and sighed softly as her body pulsed to the echoing rhythm of sweet release. Whatever she'd been frustrated about before was forgotten. She wanted to curl up into his arms and just be held now. Everything was right in the world.

And then as Cas pulled her closer still into his kiss, she felt a familiar blunt shape brush against her bare leg and she jumped a little, surprised when she realized that he was still totally good to go for more. Alex's mouth dropped open slightly and her eyes flew open as Cas kissed her because she'd never thought about it before but he was a superhuman angel… he could, erm, keep it up for hours if he wanted, probably. Oh… my… god. Even as she thought that, he silently took hold of her shirt with both hands and ripped straight down the middle, making her shirt hang off her like a cardigan. Before she could comment or protest, he tore her bra in half too between the cups and shoved them aside, pressing his warm bare chest up against hers as his mouth left wet kisses against her jawline.

Holy crap. She groaned in almost worry, because this was crazy… Are you serious right now Cas? He reached back and tore his own shirt off, too. His hands wandered her body, moving south, leaving trails of fire on her skin that made her shiver. He was pushing her against that bookcase dominantly, asserting his height and size over her and when he abruptly let a hand travel down between her legs, when he nudged two fingers inside of her, she gasped in utter shock. Her body was so ripe from the two apexes it had reached but the way he was running the show was turning her on again. "What's gotten into you?!" she asked in a choked whisper, hanging onto him and not sure if she should be thrilled or freaked out.

His lips moved against her neck and his voice was black as night, hot as fire, husky and pleasure-addled. His fingers were plunging in and out of her at a sinful rhythm she didn't think he should know how to create. "You're the one with—"

She cut him off before he could continue and say she was the one with things inside of her. "No, I mean—" she started in a daze, but then his very prominent erection brushed the inside of her thigh—she didn't think he meant to make that happen, but the touch made her forget what she was going to say. Her voice was soft and tight and all she could focus on was how he was finger-fucking her—the wicked way he was doing it you'd think he was a demon, not an angel. "Never mind, ah!" Her head was thrown back. Good god she didn't know such a feeling existed. Her pleasure-filled nerve endings were worn out and throbbing but reaching for another release and she was dumbstruck that she could feel so sore and used up but still so increasingly famished for more, more, more. Cas's warm length brushed her leg again and since he was so clearly still aroused, Alex decided she should help out. Even as his hand worked between her legs, she reached down and wrapped her hand around him near the top, surprising him and causing him to make a soft sound. She began to move her hand up and down along his shaft, trying not to squeeze too hard because she had no idea how much was too much. Cas seemed to like it—he made an urgent little groan—he braced against the shelf with a hand; his lips were in the hair at the side of her head and Alex turned her head, seeking his mouth.

He kissed her readily, little moans escaping and encouraging her to grip a little tighter, move a little faster. When she did that, he increased his speed too, making her a hundred times more anxious as his hot breaths filled her mouth. It felt so good but she knew what would make it even better. "More," she begged anxiously against his mouth, and he understood, easing a third finger in. That increase in pressure caused her to lose ability to kiss him—she panted stupidly as her body sought release with renewed frenzy, but it seemed far away. There was no way she could get there again. Still, she tried, grinding down onto his fingers as she clumsily and absent-mindedly kept stroking him in her hand.

Like she'd done a moment ago, he made a request. "Harder," he murmured in her ear, his voice timid and bold at the same time. She flushed over with renewed wonder and pleasure and then did what he asked, fisting her hand around him more firmly. She was rewarded with a muffled sound of approval from the base of his throat. He was basically fucking her hand at that point, thrusting himself into her tight grip. The sounds he made seemed to indicate that he was about to get there. His free hand suddenly swooped down to her bare breast and he did what she'd done before. He pinched the nipple without gentleness and the sudden bite of painful pleasure set off a chain reaction. A shocked sound left her mouth as it barreled over her. It was all she could do not to break him in half as she came for the third time; she had to squeeze her eyes shut as sobbing noises came out of her mouth and her forehead hit the top of his shoulder. Her fingers clenched into the same shoulder hard, useless—she felt like she was falling off the edge of the earth. Cas pulled her body against him hard; his length and her hand smashed up against the front of her thigh. She felt how he repeatedly thrust up into her fist and heard him give a high-pitched shuddering sound of agonized bliss and then felt him come in a way she never had before—against the front of her thigh his release shot out hot and wet and she was astonished. He somehow managed to keep shoving his fingers into her that entire time—and he only stopped when she had clearly reached the end of her release.

Dumbstruck and drained and shocked at the entire encounter, she went limp all over. "Holy shit," she breathed, done. Totally done. Cas was looking down at her hand as his composure returned. Her hand had gone slack around him, but still held on loosely. The fingers were sticky from his orgasm and he saw that and immediately became embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice deeply distressed. "I didn't mean to… get anything on you." He seemed very abashed at himself and angel that he was, he somehow banished it away completely. Her fingers abruptly bore no evidence of what had just happened to him. He looked at her in worry. Maybe he was wondering if that were too dirty, what had just happened.

"No… I don't care," she managed to tell him in her breathless voice. "It was actually kind of, uh, hot." She looked at him in admiration and near shyness—that was incredible, like something out of a different person's life. How had he just made her come three times? "That was… insane," she said and petted a hand at the side of his head affectionately, tiredly, grinning like an idiot.

His worry softened and his eyes held hers tenderly. He leaned in and kissed her more gently than she'd ever been kissed in her entire life and her knees buckled and her legs gave out without warning. A little surprised sound escaped her mouth even as Cas caught her and then picked her up so that one of his arms supported her back and her knees hung over his other arm. He kicked his shoes off then toed his pants off (huh, were those still there…?) and then free to walk he carried her to the bed and she could have laughed as she thought about it—he was totally naked and his wang was probably flopping around like a flag; her ripped jeans were at either ankle and torn down the middle, her shirt and bra hung off of her comically. She was too tired to care. She rested her cheek against his shoulder, shut her eyes, then sighed softly, inhaling his familiar scent. He wasn't an angel… he was a god. A sex god. She was exhausted and spent and happy. He dropped her down onto the bed with a surprising lack of gentleness and Alex frowned, opening her eyes, propping herself up on elbows in confusion. She looked up at him from where he'd put her—sideways on the bed, on her back. He was pulling her shoes and jeans off her legs hard and fast. Moonlight caught his face briefly and she saw it in his eyes before he even crawled over her. He was going to take her again.

Oh my god! …What for? Was he that insatiable? His warm skin brushed hers as he moved up the length of her body. He pulled her upward and then tugged her shirt and bra off of her with one hand, leaving her completely naked. Alex was speechless—she decided quickly that he must be either trying to make up for the lost time or was possibly testing boundaries or even didn't know she wasn't like him and that every orgasm she had made it harder to get to another one. She was too sore and tender to be touched again at the moment and she flinched away from him with a little hiss of discomfort. He stopped, looking at her questioningly. Alex thought fast and competitive nature spiking, she pushed aside her physical exhaustion—you only live once—she decided two could play at this game. She was going to give him what he so obviously needed or wanted. She put a hand onto either of his shoulders and shoved him onto his back without finesse, putting herself on all fours over him dominantly. He seemed surprised and transfixed at the power grab and she focused all of her energy into kissing and nipping and sucking his neck as she smoothed her hands up and down his arms, his torso, his hips, his thighs—everywhere but where he was straining for her touch. She began to kiss her way down his body, pausing to suck and tongue one of his nipples and then gauge his reaction—he looked astonished, like he'd never thought of that. Oh, Cas. Love tightened her chest and filled her heart because he was one in a billion and he had chosen her. She kept going lower on his body with increasing excitement. He saw what she was going to do before she began and he tried to stop her, reaching down with both hands. "Alex, no, you know that I don't like how this position seems to demean—"

She grabbed his wrists with both hands, hard. "Cas." She stared up at him meaningfully. "I want to do this." He looked uncertain and she pinned his wrists down on either side him for a moment, daring him to challenge her again. He said nothing else but his entire body was taunt with worry. He moved to hold himself on his elbows and Alex wet her lips in vague anxiety. She had fantasized about this before and the one time she'd tried it (on their so-called honeymoon, forever ago) he'd panicked and stopped her. Not tonight. She moved to sprawl between his legs, holding herself up on elbows. Her breasts brushed against his thighs and his breath caught when they first touched him there. Alex hid her nervousness (she really had no clue how to do this) and charged forward instead. She took hold of him by the base and slowly, gingerly let her mouth slide down over his tip. He breathed in through his teeth and went even more tense but submitted and let her experimentally begin to tongue and mouth him. She used her hand, too, squeezing and massaging, trying to see what did what to him. Very quickly he lost his composed demeanor and was reduced to grunts and groans and panting sounds and then gave a very surprised yelp when she traced fingers down the papery skin of his balls.

His hips were bucking to her mouth against his will and Alex took that as the sign that she was doing something right—pleasure flared in her stomach at his reactions to what she did… making him feel good was one of the most amazing things she'd ever experienced. He was puffing and growing visibly increasingly distressed and she sucked inward and accidentally made an unexpectedly loud wet squelch. Cas bucked and made a frantic little sound. She ran her clenched fist up and down his lower half at a quickening rhythm because she recognized the signs of an oncoming orgasm. As if he were reading her thoughts, he tried to stop her again. "Uh!—Alex, if you don't stop, I'm going t-to ejaculate into your m-outh," he stuttered, seeming very panicked at the thought.

She paused her work for a moment. "You're going to come in my mouth," she corrected, voice even and low.

"Yes, that," he said, worried.

"I know," she said and his face flushed in disbelief and fascination and ferocity and she bent back over him and continued, her stomach flipping around in anticipation. She was kind of turned on again at the thought of what was about to happen. She felt one of his hands come to touch the side of her head in tenderness and desperation then his fingers tightened into her hair. Cas's entire body was gathering tenseness in preparation and he seemed nervous and frightened about this new territory but Alex felt all-powerful and it was fucking hot to have control like this and when she cupped a hand to the smooth, tightening skin of his balls and squeezed very lightly he let out a soft gasp and his hips jerked of their own accord. He let out a surprised almost alarmed groan as he came in her mouth.

How intimate and surprising it was—she felt him pulse and contract in her mouth and she tasted something mild, salty, and thick—his hips were buckling in primal tremors beyond his control and he sounded like he was lost in absolute ecstatic wonder. When it was over his body relaxed, she heard him panting. Even as she swallowed him down and looked up at him, she felt herself flush—she was definitely turned on by that and overtaken at how much she loved him… she couldn't imagine ever wanting this with anyone else.

He looked back at her with amazement and it looked like he'd fallen in love all over again too. "You astound me," he said in a soft and dazed voice and he cupped a hand against the back of her head, urging her to come to him and she did, crawling up the length of his body to kiss him. She felt warm and pleasant all over, aroused at what she'd just done. He pulled one her hands into his and drew her palm to his mouth, kissing it softly as he looked into her eyes. There were deep and lasting things swimming in the cobalt oceans looking back at her and Alex's heart clenched with deep emotions and longing—when could he stay? When would be the day when he didn't have to leave? She didn't know. He kissed lower on her palm then lower, then kissed the inside of her wrist. Each time his lips pressed to her skin, she felt adored and revered and if possible those simple touches meant more than anything else. He closed his eyes now, kissing just below her wrist then letting his nose rest against her wrist. He inhaled deeply and pulled her hand to the side of his face so that her palm pressed against his cheek. His eyes opened and looked into hers again and she couldn't resist him—or he couldn't resist her. It was hard to tell.

He kissed her deep, sweet, and slow, treasuring her and letting his arms envelope her. He hugged her close to him as he praised her mouth with sultry, languid kisses. What a beautiful existence she lived in that moment caught in the space of his arms. In a stupor and dream, she kissed him in the way he kissed her. Holding herself over him at all was exhausting and he seemed to notice how fatigued she was—he turned them and then let her lay down onto her back as they tangled together kissing drowsily. "You are so beautiful to me," Cas murmured against her lips. Her stomach jolted and she smiled against his mouth. His hand traced across her shoulder and down, fingertips light and sweet. She deepened their kiss, pulling his face closer to hers so that his nose smashed into her cheek. He made a soft little sound of urgency that she recognized and even as she thought oh my god again? he shifted his hips upwards and nudged her legs further apart with his thighs and slid into her again, gently this time, causing her to groan.

"Oh, Cas—" she protested feebly. "I really don't think I can, not again…" she said, wanting to cry from a new kind of frustration she didn't understand. Oh he felt amazing but she was so tired and it wasn't possible…

"Let me love you once more," he begged in a strained, ardent whisper and when he asked like that, she couldn't say no. She just choked out a pitiful sound. She wondered if she could survive another round. He moved deeply and slowly, drawing out the encounter in a gentle, torturous way, giving her profound and reverberating pleasure as he filled her to capacity and triggered every nerve of pleasure in her body. This was Castiel as she knew and loved best: attentive, watchful, deeply soulful and there with her in every sense. He wasn't trying to be sexy and he wasn't obsessively attempting to get her off… he was silently speaking his love to her and it was so intense and real that she felt tears spring to her eyes. He had hands in the hair on either side of her head, he was gazing down at her in adoration and desperation. She grabbed hold of one of his wrists and groaned feebly, letting herself be a hundred percent present in the moment, just giving herself over.

As they made slow love to like that, as one minute turned into two and two into four, Cas's pace increased as his fervor grew… and as he became more and more anguished by rapture, as he became more and more anxious, she felt it rising in her again and she groaned in disbelief and hope alike. Her muscles screamed with fatigue, her body was sticky with sweat, she was spent but the things he was doing to her had her clambering for more.

Her throat was dry from breathing so hard, her muscles were all trembling weakly, her heart was racing but the only thing she could focus on was him and trying to reach the promise of ecstasy one more time. She felt it suddenly—she was at the edge of getting there and a certain frantic alarm overcame her. Fingers biting into his back, she held on as tightly as possible, gasping and then quickly fisting a hand into the hair at the back of his head. "Don't stop," she breathed anxiously and then became irrationally panicked at the thought of not getting there even as the onset of bliss built and built. He responded by moving faster and his hands tightened on her back. Her gasps were loud and she started to lose her mind because it was right there and she needed it so bad. "Don't stop!" She pleaded louder, voice rising in pitch and volume alike and he seemed to feel the same—beginning to ravish her so hard that the bed creaked and squeaked and shifted around on the floor. Where was the end? Where was the crescendo? She kept hurtling forward to it and was sobbing frantically trying to find it and oh god if it got any more intense she thought she might die—she heard herself saying his name frantically, begging him to get her there and he looked like he was exerting every last effort to please her and then holy shit oh god she was screaming in total panic, "Don't stop!"

She heard him whisper her name to her like an agonized plea right before it hit. Never in her life had there ever been such a riptide of sheer mind-numbing bliss. It smashed into her like a brick wall and she heard someone screaming out and realized it was her—she couldn't stop herself or control anything she did, she was a slave to the climax tearing her apart and wracking her body with violent ecstasy. She clenched and seized and writhed and on top of her, Cas was crumbling completely too, his orgasm seeming to match hers in intensity blow for blow. His eyes screwed shut and his eyebrows slammed together and he did something he had never done before: let loose a torrent of words in his mother tongue. Enochian poured forth out of his mouth recklessly in breathless groans and gasps against her neck and he almost ripped some hair clean out of her head as he cried out loudly in alarm and pleasure alike.

As it died down Alex wondered how they could both still be alive after that or how that could have been real at all. Cas finally went still and slack over her, his weight bearing down on her and filling her senses. Tears streamed out of her eyes and she laid there blinking, breathing, stunned in every facet imaginable. Her body was ringing with insurmountable wonder.

Cas's face was buried in the side of her neck and his entire body was quivering, shaking. His heartbeat was thundering into her chest vigorously and he made the softest sound that could have been a sob or an exclamation of distress. "I love you," he choked out abruptly against her neck in a voice that was inexplicably alarmed. "Please believe that I love you."

Stilled and confused and alarmed in turn, Alex turned her head to look at him quickly. "Cas… I know you do," she said softly and breathlessly, not understanding why he would say that and trying to see what was wrong. He looked so upset and filled with self-loathing and Alex didn't know why but it was terrible to behold. He pulled himself out of her and shook his head no, avoiding her gaze, beginning to pull himself away further… but Alex put a hand behind his head and drew him close to her again, wrapping her weak arms around him as she trembled and reeled. "Shh," she soothed, worried. He gave up in his half-hearted attempt to pull away and his arms circled her too, holding her tightly. Like he was afraid she would slip away. They held each other for a long moment and their heartbeats mingled, their breaths calmed. Without even looking at his face though, Alex could feel that he was still upset. She stroked a hand behind his head. "What's wrong?" she asked, getting more and more freaked out every second. "What is it? Tell me." What did he know that she didn't? What was making him act so weird?

He shook his head no again. "It's the war," he said in a tight, agonized voice. "It's being away from you. It's the things I have to do to to gain victory."

"What things?" she asked, wishing she understood.

His jaw tightened and he grew very reluctant. "Things I don't wish to burden you with."

She caught his chin and gently made him look her in the eye. "I love you," she told him with utmost conviction. "Your hardships are not my burden."

His expression wavered and he looked like he was dying to share his heart with her. But he just said, "Thank you," with deep bittersweet gratitude. He changed the subject deftly, his eyes flickering back and forth between hers. "Are you… all right?" There it was… the Cas she knew. He was worried about what they'd just done and if he'd been too intense or something.

"I don't know what I am," she said, chuckling a little. She felt like Jello, like she had been beaten to a pulp and would never move again. But in a good way. Which made no sense but that's how she felt anyway. Damn, Cas. She was blown away by him all over again and had to know: "Where'd did you get all those ideas?" She didn't think he just came up with the idea to repeatedly ravish her to the point of insanity all on his own. "Why did you… so many times?"

He seemed a little confused, like he was wondering if he'd done something wrong. "…I learned that from the pizza man."

Her eyebrows rose slowly and a little smile grew. "The porno you watched." She gave a short little self-conscious laugh and sighed drowsily. She was exhausted and that was funny. "Well you either need to watch porn more often or maybe never again… I don't think I can walk."

Cas looked deeply concerned at the last thing she said. "Do you need to walk somewhere?" He was plaintive. "I can assist you."

She grinned because of how what she said went over his head. "No," she said softly, shaking her head and touching the side of his face affectionately. "I wanna be here." With you. Everything that had just happened between them ran through her mind and she looked over at the bookshelf, realizing something. "That was kinda like our first time," she murmured, remembering a lifetime ago. Crazy what that had started. Well, not started. Continued. After all, she'd loved him a long time before it had become physical. She knew that now.

"I believe I have improved since then," Cas said, almost cheeky.

Alex looked back at him and felt like she must be glowing. "No complaints about any of it," she replied, biting a grin as she looked at him and simultaneously felt evidence of how naughty he'd been buzzing in her entire body. "You are a bad, bad boy," she joked.

Cas frowned and squinted a little. "…Perhaps you should spank me."

A sound like pffbt broke out of her mouth and she barked a laugh. "What?!" Where did he come up with this stuff?!

"Isn't that the custom?" he asked, confusion deepening.

"Oh. Let me guess… the pizza man?" Alex asked, chortling. She would need to explain sometime to Cas the difference between reality and porn. "Let's save spanking for later," she said teasingly, "Or never."

"Whatever you wish," he replied earnestly, and she loved him so much she could burst. She was compelled to kiss him then and she felt one thing very strongly in that kiss: deep aversion to the thought of him leaving as he always did. The humor faded and she became introspective. After they drifted apart, Cas shifted them onto their sides and Alex cuddled into him, head tucked underneath his chin, face against the warmth of his chest. She shut her eyes and tried not to get upset. But it didn't really work.

"I'm so selfish, Cas," she whispered after a moment of contemplating speaking the thought aloud.

His solid chest rumbled against her cheek. "How?"

She shook her head a little, morose. "Just… if I had it my way, I'd never let you leave ever again." She pulled back to look up at him with apprehensive eyes. He looked sad at her words. "Tell me this isn't going to last much longer," she begged. "I need it to be over."

He let out a slow breath through his nose. "So do I." Cas appeared so very emotionally agonized as his eyes went some distant place in his mind. "More than you can imagine."

Alex contemplated him for a long moment with great concern. She could see him but couldn't see into him. She was with him but there were places he wouldn't let her follow. It broke her heart that he was so determined to let the war be his sole burden but she knew pushing him and nagging him to involve her wouldn't work. So instead of badgering him, she took one of his hands into hers and brushed kisses against the knuckles. "Someday this is all gonna be just a bad memory," she told him, believing that. "The war, everything." That's what she held out hope for, too.

"Yes," he agreed in a thick voice and his hand moved in hers, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles like she had done a moment before. He was doing it again… giving her those intense eyes that forever captivated her. "You have changed me forever, Alex Winchester," he told her quietly.

A little flustered at his deep intensity and unexplained declaration, she ducked her head down a little and met his gaze bashfully. "Ditto, Cas." Cas's face scrunched a little, and Alex could hear his inner question: What does ditto mean? She smiled at him, blinking sleepily. "Me too, Cas."

She didn't mean to but she fell asleep there in his arms. Cas kissed her hair, knowing the exact four strands that were turning silver-gray from stress. He looked her over and held her close, wanting to praise every molecule that made her her because every atom had all come together to form the best and most lovely that humanity could possibly offer. How was such a creation even possible? And how was it that she was his? He loved her emotionally, anatomically, scientifically, metaphysically and so, so entirely—he didn't know how to not love her. He let his fingers slip into the gaps between hers and love burned in his chest like embers.

As he held her to his chest and she breathed soft, slow, steady, the sun rose outside and gradually cast a rosy glow into the attic. Cas watched this and was part of it in a way that felt new to him. In Heaven he had never cared for the markers of the passage of time—sunrise, sunset, days—they hadn't mattered in the grand scheme. They had seemed small and trivial. But as the sun rose outside and Alex slept on him trustingly, Cas thought about how he would like to learn the rhythm of days, weeks, months with her. He would like to measure his existence in sunrises and sunsets spent at her side.

He grieved for all the mornings she'd faced with him missing from her side. And he hoped for all the mornings in the future when he would be with her when she first opened her eyes to the light of a new day.