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.

70. Tabula Rasa

Song Remains the Same

Chapter 70 / Tabula Rasa

"Hey, brother, there's an endless road to rediscover."
- Avicii

---

Three Days Later

Like she had for the past few days, Alex woke up early without an alarm. Similar to a kid on Christmas she stole downstairs quickly and quietly as to not wake anyone. She was eager to see what she knew she'd find in Bobby's study: Sam asleep on the couch, peaceful and quiet, himself.

Seeing him there again—him—was indescribable and surreal.

Just a few days ago he'd been an apathetic and brusque Sam-shaped person who bore no resemblance to the real Sam Winchester. He'd been a flesh-and-blood ghost of who he'd been before. Now he was alive again in every sense of the word and when Alex peeked around the corner of the hallway into the study and saw him on the couch snoring, she smiled as her heart warmed all over again. Everything about him being back almost too good to be true. But it wasn't. It was really Sam.

How surreal the first couple hours had been when he first woke up. When Sam realized he'd been gone a full year and said he remembered nothing after the cemetery, Dean had quickly taken control of the conversation and told Sam he had just gotten back. Instead of telling Sam he'd been alive for a year without his soul, Dean swept it under the rug and gave Bobby and Alex looks that said not to contradict him.

Since then he'd taken both Bobby and Alex aside and insisted they say nothing to Sam of the year that had passed. He said if they jogged his memory or told him the truth, they risked breaking the wall Death had put into Sam's mind, the wall that protected him from the Hell memories and possible insanity therein. Not telling Sam what had happened was difficult especially for Bobby, who was very wary around Sam after the crowbar incident and the almost-killing-Alex incident. Maybe Alex should have been a little weirded out too being around the same guy who'd been about to slice her throat open a few days ago. But she was fine about Sam because one look into his eyes when she'd first seen him again told her irrefutably that was Sam. That saying, eyes are the windows to the soul? She believed that a hundred percent now.

It was hard to say if Sam was 'over' being soulless or not—and it was hard to say if the wall Death had put in his mind would hold or not. The middle Winchester was definitely a little worse for the wear. He was sleeping excessively (sixteen to eighteen hours a day by Alex's best guess) and eating Bobby out of house and home. Last night Alex had made him the spinach and artichoke dip she'd tried making before (hadn't screwed it up much this time, either). Sam ate it all voraciously with some crackers and then complimented her up and down about it in the midst of his astounded elation that she had made something from scratch. "What'd you do with my kitchen klutz sister?" he'd joked. She'd felt proud of herself and very pleased with his reaction. Dean had smiled from where he was paging through a book in the study. Sam had then quizzed her about the process of making the dish and asked about when she'd picked up cooking, complimenting her several times more. The last time she'd tried to do something for him, he couldn't have cared less… the difference was night and day. What a difference a soul made, huh?

Things were looking up for the Winchesters. Alex thought that if Sam's mind-wall could hold and if Castiel could win the war upstairs, things would finally be good… not just passable and not just acceptable but good. Golden. Perfect, even. The painful days and long waiting and sacrifices would all be worth it. Hope was filling her at painfully huge levels as she started to truly believe that the darker days were done in her life and the lives of those she loved. The light at the end of the tunnel was getting brighter and brighter… and as a result happiness was returning to her life, she was actually excited for the future and what it would bring.

Alex watched her twin sleeping a couple seconds longer then turned around and headed into the kitchen to start some coffee. At the edge of her periphery her eye caught something so she looked, distracted. Then she almost yelped out loud in surprise. Standing at the back door and looking at her patiently through the glass window was the angel in the glaringly red striped uniform. Caught off guard (her hand had automatically reached for her belt where a weapon usually was), Alex faltered, frozen in mid-step. Samandriel, Cas had said his name was. She'd seen him on the day she killed herself. What was he doing here... and why was he visible? He stood at the door patiently and looked at her with an unassuming gaze like why wouldn't he be standing there. The oddest part of it all was how he had his hands up beside him at either shoulder—in each hand, a fistful of wildflowers pulled up at the roots.

After a couple more seconds of slack-jawed confusion, Alex went to the door and opened it slowly, looking at Samandriel with no idea of what to say. "Uh…"

"Hello," he greeted when she could find no more words. "I am Samandriel." He looked familiar, young, bright-eyed, and baby-faced. His garish uniform proclaimed that he worked at Wiener Hut. He smiled pleasantly at her when she was confounded and silent. He appeared eager to be liked. "I think Castiel has mentioned me to you."

Very skeptical, Alex's eyes flickered to the flowers and then back to Samandriel. "Um, yes, he has. Can I, uh, help you? What are you… doing with those?"

Samandriel remembered the flowers and looked at them briefly. He seemed mildly confused about them, too. "He told me to bring you flowers." He held them out to her and Alex faltered, unsure of what to do with uprooted flowers. "I have brought you flowers." Dirt was still crumbling off in bits from the full root systems he'd clearly yanked out of the ground. A slow and confused smile was spreading across her face despite her best efforts to stay shrewd.

Alex hesitated then cast around for something to put the flowers in or on so they didn't smear dirt all over. "Lemme just get a… like a plate, I dunno. Uh, come in, come in." She beckoned the flower-toting angel in then rooted around in the kitchen, pulling out a mixing bowl from under the sink. "Here," she said, and indicated he put the flowers there. He put the two fistfuls of flowers into the bowl and Alex had to crack a full grin. So, Samandriel seemed to be similar to Cas in the adorably clueless vein. "Thanks," she said, looking at the colorful variety of flowers that had probably been pulled up from along Bobby's driveway where they grew wild. Castiel had sent her flowers… that was sweet and heartwarming, unexpected for sure. She picked one flower up and twirled it, examining the white petals.

Samandriel was looking at her expectantly, slightly apprehensively. "Castiel also wanted me to express his love to you," he said, then paused and frowned uncertainly. "I… express his love to you."

In response to the bumbling sort of way he was conducting himself, Alex's grin took over her whole face. "Um, thanks…" she faltered, a little self-conscious and a lot unsure of what to say back. She set the mixing bowl of loose flowers down onto the kitchen table and turned around to ask Samandriel about Cas's sudden urge to send flower-grams and declarations of love, but when she looked at him again she couldn't get over the growing feeling that she'd seen him before. Maybe he had one of those faces. No… she really felt like she'd seen him before. Pondering, squinting, trying to figure it out, she came up with nothing.

"Sorry, you just look so familiar," she said when Samandriel looked at her questioningly. And then it smacked her in the face. She had seen him before! "Wait… bug boy!" she exclaimed, remembering who she'd met five or six years ago on a job—he'd been fond of spiders and bugs and nearly gotten sucker punched when he tried to shove a big spider in her face for a laugh. "Matt… Matthew?" she asked, trying to remember more clearly. If you told her then that that kid would end up being a vessel for an angel, she would have seriously doubted it. Her eyes fell to his name tag which said Alfie in block letters. Her confidence in her memory faded slightly. "Why's the name tag say Alfie?"

Samandriel looked down at the name tag and then at her again. He seemed reluctant and sad to speak on the subject. "Matthew Pike ran away from his home at the age of seventeen and used an assumed identity. Alfonso Perozzi. 'Alfie.'" The angel sounded attached, bittersweet, and deeply sympathetic when he spoke of Matthew. Alex hadn't known Matthew too well but had sympathized with him because like her, he'd had issues with his controlling and emotionally devoid father.

"He was very unhappy until I came to him," Samandriel continued. "I've got him locked inside of a dream where he's a very successful and well-loved young musician. A rock star, I believe to use the slang term. He's happier this way. His life wasn't what he wanted. Now it is."

Alex contemplated Samandriel and Matthew at the same time, not sure how to feel about that. "You make it sound so neatly wrapped."

"Why wouldn't it be?" Samandriel asked earnestly. He had an exceedingly gentle and considerate way about him. "I won't always use this vessel. In time, Matthew will return to his life." A soft, rueful smile crossed his face and he looked down in thought. "And I do hope he will be happier than he was before."

Huh. That was a nice thought. Maybe not all angels (with Cas being the exception, of course) were dicks. Samandriel was looking into the living room curiously. "Your brother," he said. "Is he recovering well?"

Alex followed his gaze. "Slowly," she conceded, then frowned slightly, looking back at Samandriel with narrowing eyes. "I thought you were watching me. Shouldn't you already know that?"

Samandriel shook his head very slightly, meeting her gaze honestly. "I watch the entrances and exits and follow you if you leave. I do not intrude upon your privacy or the privacy of your family. This is what Castiel has instructed of me."

"Oh." Alex nodded. "Gotcha." She glanced at the bowl of flowers again, her mind wandering back to its original question. "So… why the flowers and love confession? He's never done that before."

Samandriel looked at her with a mild curiosity in his eyes, like he was gauging her reaction and trying to see who she was, what she thought. "Castiel told me that he feels he has done a poor job of making sure you're cared for. He wanted you to have evidence of his thoughts for you, from my understanding."

A little smile grew on the edges of her mouth. He's worried about me. He wants me to know he's thinking about me. Alex contemplated the angel across from her for a couple seconds, her thoughts shifting gears. "Can I ask you something—Sam-handy-rail…" she managed poorly, then began to try to find a nickname. "Sam—" no that wouldn't work. "El? Andy? Andy."

He looked confused at her verbal experiments. She gave up on them. "I'm just wondering—I've heard that most of the angels sort of… disapprove of me and Cas." She paused and wet her lips. "What about you?"

The question seemed to faintly surprise him. Samandriel took a moment, giving the impression of great thoughtfulness. "When I first heard of Castiel's… situation, I felt very taken aback. Unsure of what to think, to be truthful. Angels and humans have always been forbidden to be romantically involved. His actions and pursuit of you were viewed as utter blasphemy all across Heaven." His eyes traveled over the kitchen in pondering. "I had never stopped to wonder why that rule existed before. I had never stopped to question why love should ever be labeled blasphemy. Simply because the two who love are not alike? That doesn't seem right to me." He paused. "I have seen how Castiel loves you. And I do not find it blasphemous." He looked at her for input and she was quiet, surprised at his introspection and the tender way he spoke about things. "Many say that Castiel has lost his way," Samandriel said. "But I don't think so." He looked at Alex and the softest, most secretive smile came over his lips. "I think perhaps he is finding a new one."

Alex now understood why Castiel had set this kindhearted angel in charge of her and opened her mouth to reply to him. It was then that the sound of footsteps shuffling down staircase from upstairs sounded and Alex looked up, listening. That sounded like Dean. Huh, he was up early. She looked back at Samandriel—and he wasn't there anymore. Alex blinked a few times, glancing around for the angel. He had disappeared from completely.

Dean came into view then, rubbing an eye with the heel of his hand and grimacing dramatically against the morning light. His hair was epic levels of bad, sticking up all over, and because he was in his t-shirt and boxers, Alex could see his very bowed legs better than usual. "Morning, Bowlegs," she greeted, insulting him fondly and trying to transition from the unexpected angel visit to a more normal morning routine.

"'Sup, Baby Face?" he returned in a sleep-rough voice as he headed for the coffee maker. "How's Gigantor?"

Alex shrugged. "Still asleep."

Dean looked at his watch, impressed and slightly skeptical. "That makes like fifteen hours this round." He was half-asleep still, running a hand over his face then stretching with a sound of protest.

"Guess when you don't sleep for a year your body needs a little catch-up time," Alex said, looking at Sam for a long moment.

Her happy feelings wavered. How were they supposed to keep dodging the truth with Sam? The past couple of days had been tricky—Sam was a naturally curious person and he had wanted to know what they'd been up to, what had happened in the time he'd been gone, more about the way he'd been brought back. Dean had either given a vague answer then changed the subject or flat out lied and Alex, uncomfortable with lying, had dodged questions and even gone so far as to not spend too much time one-on-one with Sam for fear of not being able to answer one of his questions. As she thought of how shady and uncomfortable that made her feel, she looked at Dean anxiously. He was whacking the coffee maker on the side, trying to get it to turn on. She drifted closer, keeping her voice quiet. "Dean, are we seriously not gonna tell him—"

Dean turned and cut her off with a hard look. It was surprising how fast he could go from groggy to commanding. "What, that he's been here the whole time? That he was hanging out the past twelve months with no soul? That he tried to kill you?" He stopped there and heaved a weary sigh and rubbed his face in a hand, softening before readdressing her. "We've been over this. It'll just set him off and make him remember. Death said the wall's gotta hold if we want Sam to survive."

She knew all of that, he'd been over it with her, but she still didn't like it. Not at all.

At her silence, Dean prompted her. "You want him to live, don't you?"

That question got him a slightly bitchy side-eye. "What kind of question is that, Dean?"

"Then there's your answer," Dean replied factually, leaving no room for argument. "We can't tell him stuff that'll trigger his memory, end of story."

"But Dean, he'll figure it out," Alex protested.

"Not if we don't give him clues to work with," Dean replied with a tone that used a certain level of warning. Don't tip him off, he was telling her. Alex got even more grudging and her older brother sighed in a way that said he empathized. "Look, I know it sucks," he said, trying to catch her gaze. "But if this is what it takes to keep Sam alive and well, we just gotta do it." Alex said nothing, just let a very disagreeable breath of air expel noisily out of her nose as she crossed her arms. Dean frowned, spotting the bowl of flowers on the table. He wandered over and poked at it. "What's up with this?"

A self-conscious, half-amused little laugh escaped Alex. Dean then looked at her for explanation and she shrugged, attempting a cute, innocent expression. "Cas apparently doesn't know about one-eight-hundred flowers."

Dean had a look on his face that was part amusement and part unimpressed annoyance. He picked up a flower and looked at the root system. "Ya think?"

---

The Next Day

"Give 'er here," Dean said, reaching out to take Alex's fully packed duffel from her. She handed it over and he tossed it into the trunk of the Impala and looked everything over once again. He was businesslike and quiet, hard to read.

Alex leaned in a little over the trunk, trying to get him to look at her. "So we're really just heading out without him sight unseen?" she asked. It wasn't that she wasn't glad to be going on a hunt with Dean again, but it seemed sketchy to not even wake Sam up from his nap to say 'seeya later' or anything. Dean was acting sort of funny about the entire thing and he was avoiding talking about it much.

Dean moved her hand out of the way and closed the trunk. "Yeah, he needs his rest and this job needs working," he said, using a tone of forced casualness. "It's not that big of a deal. He'll understand. And we'll call him later."

"Call me from where?"

They both turned in surprise. Sam had just walked up from behind and was looking at them inquisitively. Dean and Alex exchanged a quick glance. "Uh, there's this thing in Oregon," Dean said.

Mild excitement crossed Sam's features. "Great! I'm in," he said, looking ready to go.

"Whoa, whoa," Dean said, hands raised slightly in protest. "You just got vertical."

"Exactly," Sam said, smiling a little, bright-eyed. He looked well-rested, eager, earnest. "I'm up. I'm good."

"Well, a few more days of crap cable and snooze buttons couldn't hurt," Dean suggested.

Sam immediately rolled his eyes in good nature, cracking a teasing little smile. "Right, 'cause that's what you did when you got back from hell," he said, pausing for effect then shrugging appealingly. "Dean, I'm fine—might need a few more naps than usual, but I'm good."

Alex remained silent, trying not to look guilty or like she was hiding anything. She wanted Sam around but she didn't want to have to keep up with the lying. Dean had a slight look of constipation on his face because like her, he knew the close quarters would demand more conversations and Sam, ever the curious one, would be full of questions for them. Either way, Dean apparently decided to take their chances and let Sam come along. "Yeah, all right," he said, then cracked a little grin, shot it Alex's way then Sam's. "The three amigos ride again, huh?"

"More like the three stooges," Alex muttered. Sam laughed—which made an emotional little expression cross Alex;s face. Sam didn't see. He was already heading for the passenger seat of the Impala. While he got in, Alex shot Dean a tense look over the top of the car.

---

A couple hours down the road, no harm had been done yet. The sun had gone down and in the darkness of the car, Alex had to stifle a yawn against sleepiness.

Sam had expressed interest in the job they had picked up and was currently on his cell with a local police department in Portland, doing what Sam did best: research and information gathering. "You got it, officer. Thank you. You too." He hung up, turning to Dean. "So, get this—besides the crash, there were two other disappearances in town this week—last weekend, a college girl vanished from her apartment." He looked at Alex then. "Off of the seventeenth floor. Then, three days ago, another girl didn't make it home from school."

"These two chicks know each other?" Dean asked.

"No," Sam said, shaking his head and clearly wracking his brain for any clue that would help. "No connection. Just young and female, like the plane crash girl."

"What would disappear a girl out of the sky, anyway?" Dean asked, frowning at the road ahead.

Sam shrugged his mouth downward. "Good question."

"Any other connections you could pick out?" Alex asked, mulling it over. Out of the sky… so, something with wings?

Her twin shook his head. "Not so far." The car was quiet for a minute, fuzzy radio rock in the background. "So you two never even tried, huh?" Sam asked a little softer, alternating between glancing at his brother and sister.

Uh oh. Alex didn't think she liked where this was going. "Tried what?" Dean asked. He sounded a little hesitant, too.

Sam was pretty somber. "To go live a life… after what happened." He looked at Dean gently. "You do remember you promised that, right?" His hazel gaze slid to Alex and gave her a silent lecture too. "Both of you."

"I didn't promise that," Alex protested, remembering his little 'go live your life' speech and how she'd just cried on him instead of promising anything. "Not really."

Sam gave her a good humored look. "Maybe not, but he did." He gave Dean an expectant look.

Dean let out a gust of reluctant air. "Yeah, I remember."

Sam was careful to keep his tone easygoing and non-confrontational. "So why didn't you try?"

Dean sent him a quick glance. "What makes you think I didn't?"

"'Cause look at you," Sam said, then gestured around the car. "Look at this. You're exactly the same."

Dean's face darkened almost imperceptibly and a muscle clenched in his jaw. "Yeah, I dunno about that." Alex studied her fingernails, afraid that if she looked up Sam's questioning eyes would be on her. Dean cleared his throat, kept his eyes on the road. "I was with them for a year—Lisa and Ben."

"A year," Sam repeated, sounding very impressed and astounded. Dean nodded silently. Sam prompted him. "So then what?"

There was a lot of sadness and still-relevant hurt in Dean's eyes. "Didn't work out."

Sam was taking everything in stride, digesting what Dean said with tempered acceptance. But then a new thought seemed to occur to him. "So you and Alex just, what, hung out with Lisa and Ben for a year? No hunting? Just normal life?" He scoffed through a smile that suggested he found that even harder to believe than anything else… his siblings giving up hunting for that long.

The silence rang in Alex's ears and demanded to be filled, but she said nothing and kept looking at her fingernails, picking them now. He assumed that she and Dean had been together that whole year… how was she supposed to answer that?

"Well, I did that," Dean reluctantly answered Sam. "Hung out with Lisa and Ben for a year." A confused frown came over Sam's face as he tried to figure out what his brother meant and where his sister had been—Alex could feel his inquisitive gaze on her but she didn't look up. "Went our separate ways, Sammy," Dean explained gruffly.

Sam appeared to be unable to wrap his head around what his brother had just said. "…Separate ways?" he repeated, almost like he'd misheard.

Dean shrugged, trying hard to appear flippant. "Yeah, she did her thing, I did mine. No big deal."

Sam's mouth was half open. "Wh—you're kidding me, right? No big deal?" He looked between his guarded and quiet siblings at a complete loss. "You two've never been apart longer than a few days except for when Dean died." His vehement tone and scandalized expression got him no reply from either of his siblings and he looked at Alex, struggling to figure it out. "What'd you do? Go with Cas or something?"

Alex couldn't bite back knee-jerk cynicism. "Ha, no," she said, then looked Sam in the eye by accident. Sobering as the year from hell flashed across her mind, she tried to look outwardly unaffected. "I hunted."

Sam's aghast expression grew even more pronounced. "With who? With Bobby?"

"Nah." Alex looked sidelong out of the window, swallowing the sick feeling away. "Met some people, hunted with them." She could feel Sam's shocked gaze on her and she cleared her throat, attempted to sound apathetic. "It doesn't matter. Dean and I figured out we weren't too good together anymore with you gone so we just decided to try life separate."

Sam's eyes were keen and astute and flickered to Dean almost accusingly. "…Did you guys fight?" he asked, reading between the lines.

"It's not important, Sam," Dean said, taking over from Alex and cutting Sam's questions short. Thank god. "It's over, okay? We're all back together and everything's fine now. Let's not go digging in the crap from the past."

Sam looked uncertain and a little suspicious but after a couple beats nodded his reluctant agreement and respectfully let it go. "Yeah… okay."

Dean spotted something ahead and put his blinker on, proceeded to leave the topic behind them completely. "You guys hungry yet? I could go for some bar food."

---

Two Hours Later

As Dean chatted up a girl at the bar, a series of text messages began to come through on his phone. As he was in a noisy bar and very interested in flirting, he didn't hear his phone or see the messages.

Cas at 8:26PM:
Alex, please accept this icon as a symbol of my love for you… Please know that I miss you. Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?

Cas at 8:27PM:
Dean, the heart was meant for your sister. I sent it to you by mistake. Please send it back so that I can send it to her instead.

Cas at 8:28PM:
Dean, send the heart back please.

Cas at 8:30PM:
Dean, are you there?

Cas at 8:32PM:
Dean, why are you not responding?

Cas at 8:35PM:
Dean, are you ignoring me?

At 8:36 when the girl Dean had been talking to got pulled away by friends, Dean glanced at his phone. Six unread messages? He pulled them up and frowned at them. What the…?

In front of him there was suddenly someone very close to him and in his personal space. "Hello, Dean." Startled, Dean almost dropped his phone. Cas squinted at the cell's bright screen sternly. "I see you received my text messages."

"Yeah, just saw all four thousand of them now," Dean said, cranky and moving out of Cas's space. "You trying to crash my phone or something Cas?" He then glanced the first text Cas had sent—it had a bright pink emoticon of a heart in it.

"Please, I hope you don't misunderstand," Cas said with way too much seriousness for the situation. "The heart image was not meant for you. Send it back to me."

"Send it back?" Dean had to chuckle at that point. And he thought he was bad with technology. Cas was like the grandpa of grandpas when it came to gadgets. "All right, Cas, look, the thing about emoti-whatsits—"

A woman in a hot mini dress interrupted, eyes on Cas. She leaned in across the bar, clearly very interested. "Hello, handsome," she said, eyeing him unashamedly, flirtatiously. "I like your trench coat."

Cas seemed thrown off. "Uh… thank you," he said with a suspicious look on his face.

The woman wet her lips very slowly. Dean was beside himself. You got to be kidding me. I've been trying all night to land a chick and Cas attracts this one in the first thirty seconds of being here? The woman contemplated Cas boldly. "You here with someone tonight?"

Cas was very clearly confused and seemed to be thinking perhaps there was something wrong with the woman. He gestured at Dean. "I'm… with him."

Dean's expression dropped flat and he wanted to facepalm. The woman's expression fell too and she looked a little disappointed. "Oh… sorry." She left quickly and Dean was shaking his head in utter chagrin.

"That was a strange interaction," Cas commented thoughtfully, then looked around at the very full bar briefly before looking back at Dean. "Where are Sam and Alex?"

Dean paused. "Wait, you know about Sam being upright?"

"Yes, Samandriel told me," Cas said, and his eyes were soft, earnest. "I'm very glad to hear your brother is coherent and well."

Samandriel. "Ah. Right." Alex had told Dean about him. "Heaven's babysitter." Dean nodded over at the booth where Sam had fallen asleep sitting up. "Sam's over there, asleep as usual." Cas frowned slightly at Dean's 'asleep as usual' comment. "After not sleeping for a year, guess it wears a guy out. Alex is…" Dean looked over at the stage area of the bar where a live band was covering classic rock sort of badly. They were currently performing Pour Some Sugar On Me. "There." Dean pointed her out to Cas. She was extremely shit-faced and dancing very drunkenly to the music, hands up in the air as she sang along at the top of her lungs with a strained look of concentration on her face. Dean shook his head at the funny and sort of embarrassing sight. "Very happy. And very drunk." He paused, eyes narrowing as he noticed a clearly-toasted prep guy sidling up to her. "And very being hit on by a loser."

Cas too seemed to go tense. "Hit on?" he asked, his worried gaze on Alex. "I don't see someone striking her."

Dean gave Cas a look. "Hit on, you know—flirting with, Cas." He was annoyed and about to march over there and tell the guy pestering his sister to take a hike but then he realized maybe he should be helping Cas wise up. A little grudging about it, Dean grabbed Cas by the shoulder and pointed with his free hand. "Okay, listen Cas. If you're gonna be her boyfriend, part of the duties are telling skeezeballs to scram."

Cas was listening closely but didn't seem to comprehend what he'd just been told. "Telling who to what?"

"You see that idiot jock over there?" Dean asked. "He's trying to put the moves on your girlfriend so go up to him and tell him to get lost or else." Cas's eyes squinted up and he nodded understanding. Just as he made to move forward, Alex pushed the guy bothering her away easily—he was so drunk that he just fell backwards with a loud crash. Alex threw back her head, laughed, almost fell backwards, then returned to her very uncoordinated dancing. Dean and Cas, on threat patrol, both stayed right where they were, watching the guy on the floor. He didn't move—probably passed out. Dean shrugged, glanced at Cas. "Ah. Never mind."

Alex looked back then, waved to Dean and subsequently spotted Cas, getting this excited look on her face. She almost fell over completely as she lurched their way. "Caaaaaas!" she squealed as she got within earshot. Dean had forgotten just how sloppy of a drunk she was when she got this wasted.

Cas's eyes crinkled around the edges as a whispery smile pulled his lips upward a little. "Hello, Ale—ooff!"

She basically jumped on him and took him by surprise, kissing him with a loud sound effect as her hands smashed either side of his face inward. "Mmmm-waaaah!" she smacked loudly when she pulled away and grinned at him. "Whatreyou do-oooing here?" she asked, her facial expression exaggerated out of drunkenness. She stumbled back and grabbed one of his hands and swung his arm around in time to the music. Poor Cas was completely at a loss for how to respond. "Isn't this music great?!" Alex yelled too loudly then suddenly stopped and fanned herself with both hands. "Oh my god it's so hot in here, am I right?!" She looked at Dean with a stupid agree with me expression.

"Do you… feel all right?" Cas asked in genuine concern.

Alex remembered Cas again and grinned widely with heavy-lidded eyes, abruptly hugging him tight, falling over herself sloppily and smiling drunkenly as she shut her eyes. "I miss you, mmm, you're so nice and muscle-y…"

Dean watched Cas's face as the guy tried to figure out the right way to respond to Alex's behavior. She made a contended mmmm sound and nuzzled her face repeatedly against Cas's shoulder as Dean cleared his throat self-consciously. "I'm just gonna…" he jerked a thumb over his shoulder awkwardly, backing up a few steps.

"Hey, I gotta go to the store and buy some stuff!" Alex announced suddenly as she shot backwards from the hug, wide-eyed and determined and falling over slightly as she pulled on Cas. "Come with me!"

Cas appeared very uncertain. "Uh, all right—"

Alex grinned at Dean and waved. "Seeya later Deancakes!"

Dean made a face. "…Deancakes?"

"Like pancakes, but made out of Deans!" Alex exclaimed, laughing like she'd just made the most unbelievably clever joke on earth.

Dean shook his head and watched as Alex dragged Cas out of the bar. "Yikes."

---

Out in the cool night air of early September, Alex held one of Cas's hands in both of hers as they walked down a sidewalk. He was steady and straight while she weaved and wobbled and pitched unevenly without predictability. "I feel like I'm on a cloud of happiness, only the cloud is the earth and happiness is real," she announced. Cas didn't follow her meaning. Her words were raspy and slurred.

"I think you are very drunk," Cas said in veiled worry, looking at her sidelong.

Even if she was very intoxicated, she was very happy about it. "Ha! Buddy I passed drunk a million miles ago," she said, leaning into him heavily and grinning up at him sleepily. "I am haaaammered." A hiccup suddenly jolted her entire body and then she burped then made a not-so-happy sound. She frowned at the sidewalk ahead as Cas watched her every change of expression closely. "I'm starting to forget how much I drank. Uh, regret how much I dank. But it's okay!" She was grinning again. "My brother's back and I'm with my family and my angel's gonna win the war and oop!" She tripped forward and would have fallen if not for Cas. She pointed at the sidewalk they'd just passed over, her expression oddly expressive to a dramatic degree. "There was a crack there."

"Yes," Cas said, smiling a little because even though he found her less easy to understand this way, her antics struck him as amusing and interesting. "There was a crack there."

Alex sighed and as they walked further on in search of a convenience store, she laid her head onto his shoulder, managing to match his stride a bit more steadily. They passed a mattress place and a video rental store as they walked hand in hand. A few other people were out, too. Even as Cas was thinking of how this was nice, Alex spoke up, echoing his unspoken thoughts. "What if this was us every day?" Her voice was warm with intoxicated contentedness. "Just, out on walks, together, doing regular stuff…" she snorted a laugh. "Me, drunk as a skunk."

Cas frowned slightly. "I don't think skunks imbibe alcohol."

For some reason, that comment made her laugh so hard that her eyes squeezed shut and her body pitched forward to double over—Cas again had to make sure she didn't fall and he caught her with both hands, letting her laugh into his chest. This was very strange. He was glad she was laughing, but it was still very strange. When she gasped to a stop and drew back, mouth open wide in a woozy grin, her eyes rested on his for a long moment then circled and zig-zagged his face. "You look so pretty I can't think straight," she murmured, and leaned forward to kiss him, tripping over nothing (maybe her own feet) and face-planted into his chest again. She began to laugh again, then when she straightened she was confused. "…What were we doing?"

Increasingly amused by proxy, Cas wasn't sure what to make of her. "Going to the store to… 'buy some stuff,'" he said, using the phrasing she'd used when they first left the bar.

"Yes, right!" She pulled on him urgently, motioning ahead vaguely. "Come on, quit stopping, Cas."

"I'm not the one who…" he began, then realized maybe pointing it out would serve no gain. So instead, he directed the conversation elsewhere. "Did you receive the flowers I instructed Samandriel to give to you?"

She beamed at him. "I did… thank you, Cas, he's funny. Really funny," she said, giggling a little then ducking her head to bop him on the shoulder affectionately. "I liked the flowers but if they'd been delivered by you I'da liked it better."

Cas felt a little pained. "I would have liked to be the one to gave them to you, of course. But as you know—"

"The war," she cut him off with a sigh. "I knowwww, ugh. When will it be over Cas?" She frowned petulantly at the ground, kicking at a root growing out of the sidewalk. "Hate it so hard."

"I know," Cas said, trying to disguise some of his darker feelings and thoughts. "So do I."

It didn't seem to matter. She wasn't very observant in this state and didn't see him swallow back the guilt and worry. The only thing she noticed was a gas station convenience store sign ahead, lit in neon. She grabbed his arm for emphasis. She quickened the pace.

"What things do you need to purchase?" Cas asked as they neared the entrance.

"Woman things," she said meaningfully.

Cas squinted. What were women things? Perfume? Lotions? Hair products? That didn't seem to fit. "You don't buy women things," he protested.

"Aw Cas, you so funnyyyy," she said, ruffling his hair affectionately and leading the way into the store.

The bell above the door tinkled pleasantly as they entered. Right near the door there was a little basket of small flashlights on display and curious, Cas stopped, picked one up. "I've never seen one this small," he said, turning over the genius invention in his hand with fascination.

Alex's mouth dropped open, her eyes went wide, she pointed at him. "That's what she said!" she exclaimed very loudly and enthusiastically, then burst into enthusiastic gale-force laughter again.

Cas looked at her in concern. "Who? That's what who said?" No one else was near them or had said anything. Alex didn't answer, she was giggling and traipsing down an aisle unevenly. Cas followed her in confusion. She squinted, pointing at the colorful boxes she was looking at with a thoughtful frown. "I need the kind with the not-cardboard…" she muttered, turned around to glance at the aisle contents opposite of the boxes she had been looking at. "Oooh, Skittles!" She drifted to the other side of the aisle.

Cas however was looking at the boxes she'd been looking at. One of them had been opened and some of the contents had spilled out—shiny plastic tubes that were candy apple green. Cas picked one up and looked at it studiously, trying to determine its use. "What is the purpose of these tubes?" he asked, then sniffed the one he held. Was it some kind of confectionery item? A candy product? It smelled like nothing. If it was a food item, it was probably flavorless.

Alex turned, saw him sniffing it, and her eyes went saucer wide. "Cas, noooo!" She lurched over and swept it out of his hand and waggled the tube at him. "These are tampons… you know… for periods?"

Cas tried to follow, but he didn't. "What do these have to do with the menstruation cycle?" Alex handed him a box, turned it around, and let him see the diagram on the back. Cas studied it for a moment and was subsequently surprised. "Oh." He looked at the tube she was still holding, trying to understand it fully. So, the woman inserted this item and it blocked and absorbed the blood flow. But that was the same place that… other things were inserted. He was very confused. "Do they… stimulate you?" he asked earnestly.

Alex snorted and stifled a laugh, then held up the tampon with a very playful expression on her face. "Do you see how big this is? No." She bit her lip. "You know what stimulates me…?" She leaned closer coyly. "Your angel blade." She chuckled throatily. His mouth fell open slightly and at his confounded expression Alex made a sound like pffffbt as she batted the air. "That was a euphagasm, Cas. Er, euphemism." She cleared her throat and turned her attention back to the boxes, sighing in slight discomfort. "Ye-eeeep, Aunt Flow's on her way, I can feel it."

"How?" Cas asked, curious and watchful of her.

She looked at him with a dramatically pitiful look on her face. "I'm really sore… here." Without notice she grabbed one of his hands, put it on one of her breasts, and squeezed twice. "Honk honk!"

The gas station cashier was looking at them oddly and Cas was growing a little flustered. "Uh… I don't think…" he started, self-conscious to be standing in public with his hand on her like that.

Alex let go and looked at him meaningfully. "I'm not on it yet, though…"

Unsure of what she was trying to convey, Cas decided to try and get back to the subject of the text he'd been trying to send her earlier. "I have some money in my pockets," he said. "I was hoping to take you on some kind of date."

She didn't seem to have heard what he said. "You look so good right now…" she said, smiling dreamily.

"Thank you," Cas said, trying to keep the conversation centered. "Would you like to go to a restaurant, perhaps?"

She looked off as if she were imagining something pleasing. "The date I wanna go on is in bed."

Cas's eyes crimped up a little. "In bed? Do you mean at the mattress store we passed on the way here? What would we do there? Do many dates traditionally transpire at furniture stores?"

Alex was laughing again, a hand against the shelf to support herself. "Caaas…" she appealed. "I'm trying to get you to have sex with me," she said, biting her lip and laughing in a messy, unmeasured way. "Drunk, happy sex," she then chuckled deep in her throat and reached out, taking him by the tie. "Mhhmmhmm."

Cas's eyebrows rose fractionally and he felt mildly embarrassed at missing her meaning. "Oh."

She seemed very sure of what she wanted. "I'm too drunk to care if I'm embarrassing myself or not," she said, then looked at him with dark, sultry eyes. "Whatcha think?" She drifted a little closer, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her body into his.

"Well... I do believe that I still 'owe you,'" he said softly, taking her back to that morning in the attic where she'd given him pleasure and taken none for herself.

At his words, her smile fell in favor of a ravenous gaze. "Wow, forget these," Alex said, tossing the box of tampons over her shoulder and jumping onto Cas, knocking him back into the rickety shelves behind them.

With a crash, products went scattering all over the shiny floor. When the gas station employee looked up at the sound of the ruckus, the man in the trench coat and the obviously drunk girl had vanished into thin air.

---

Sam yawned and shut the door of the car behind himself, heading straight for the motel room. He'd fallen asleep in the bar after eating. Why was he so tired? There seemed to be no telling. Dean shrugged it off. So Sam tried not to worry about it too much either. He stopped at the motel room door and realized he didn't have the key then waited on Dean, blinking sleepily the entire time. And that's when he heard a very peculiar sound from inside the motel room. His sister giggling then gasping against the unmistakably deep and low sound of Cas's voice. But Cas wasn't talking.

Holy shit. Sam snapped fully awake, looking back at Dean who was approaching unawares. Panicking, Sam hurried forward to block his older brother's way. At the sudden roadblock, Dean looked at him impatiently and questioningly. Dean was tired, too. Sam scrambled for a fib. "I just remembered that I forgot… uh… the, my, uh… burgers!" He was overdoing it on the enthusiasm and tried to dial it down. "You want a burger? Let's go get some food."

Dean shook his head wearily then tried to move past him. "We just ate, come on man, I'm tired."

Sam stopped him again, getting more alarmed as they got closer to the motel room where Dean would start to hear those very, very awkward sex noises. "No, uh, wait—well uh, Alex texted me," Sam said. Dean waited, giving Sam a weird look. Sam said the first thing he could think of. "And, and, uh, she's sick in there."

Sam kicked himself the second he said that—wrong thing to say. Dean got worried. "Sick?" He made to move past Sam again and Sam stopped him again.

"Sick… of us, I mean!" He hedged weakly. "She, she said she wanted some alone time." Dean wasn't buying it—in fact, he was now a thousand percent suspicious and Sam held his hands out to Dean in a placating way. He was just going to have to come out and tell the truth. "Okay, look Dean, Alex is a grown woman, right?" Sam asked, not sure how good this could go.

Dean's eyes narrowed slightly. "Right…"

Sam was deliberate and serious. "I need you to not freak out." He paused nervously, bracing himself. "She and Cas are… in there. Together."

Instead of a look of utter shocked rage or disbelief, Dean looked like the air had been let out of his balloon. He was only annoyed. Sam was taken aback. Dean had thrown the hissy fit of the century when he'd seen Cas and Alex kiss last he remembered. And now? Dean just threw a hand out and rolled his eyes as he made an exasperated face. "Ugh. Well… that's just great." He promptly turned around and headed back for the Impala.

"…Where are you going?" Sam asked, confused. Where was the rage and crazy reaction?

"Well I'm not just gonna stand on the sidewalk while we wait," Dean retorted in a snap, then yanked his door open and got in. Sam followed, mystified. He must have missed a hell of a lot this past year.

They sat in the car for a few minutes silently then Sam shook his head, smiling down into his lap as it suddenly hit him. Beside him, Dean was peevish. "What's so funny?"

Sam shrugged, still smiling as he thought about it. "Just... she and I had to do this more than a few times. Twiddle our thumbs in the Impala while you and your flavor of the week went at it."

That got the smallest of smiles from Dean. "Huh. Yeah, I remember a couple times she and I had to wait on you, too."

"Full circle," Sam commented.

For a minute, they were quiet. "So what you think, we give them like fifteen minutes or what?" Dean asked. He was clearly ready to go to sleep.

Sam snorted. "Fifteen minutes? The guy's an angel. We might be out here all night."

Dean looked like he'd never heard anything more eye-roll worthy. "You got your gun?"

Sam hesitated, suspicious. "Yeah… why?"

"I need you to shoot me," Dean retorted, then made a gun with his fingers. "Gun, mouth, now."

"Right." Sam laughed. After a second he looked at his older brother curiously. Dean's openness to discussing and tolerating the subject was surprising—because Dean had been hellbent on Cas not even kissing Alex and now they were sitting here in the car waiting for Cas and Alex to finish having sex. How times had changed and Sam was scratching his proverbial head. He needed to know what changed. "But, okay, seriously—you're being pretty, I dunno, calm right now. Why aren't you freaking out more about this?"

Dean scoffed. "Shut up."

"No, I'm serious, Dean," Sam said. "Last I remember, you were kind of a big time dick to Cas. You were dead set to make sure they never got together." He watched Dean closely. "What happened to change your mind? What'd I miss?"

"Ah. I dunno," Dean said, looking out of the windshield with a terse look on his face. "Things really got put in perspective, me and her living apart a year."

Sam was quiet for a minute, sobered by that thought. "Still can't believe that."

Dean's expression flickered. "Me either."

At his brother's continued silence, Sam gestured vaguely and faintly with his hands. "You two ever gonna tell me more about what happened, or…?"

Mild irritation showed in Dean's face and he sent Sam a clouded look. "I already told you everything, Sam."

Sam struggled against frustration—he didn't want to start drama as soon as he was out of the ground and back from Hell but he had this feeling that wouldn't go away. Like his siblings were keeping something from him. It didn't help that he couldn't really remember his time being possessed by Lucifer, either. It was all so garbled and mixed up in his mind. Everything felt garbled, but Sam chalked it up to everything that had happened. Still, he had noticed something that really bothered him and he wasn't gonna let it go. "Why you two giving me the silent treatment whenever I ask about the past year?" He asked earnestly, looking at his big brother in apprehension.

Dean pulled in a deep breath and looked down at his lap, taking a long moment to answer. "Just, uh—we fought, Sam. It was… the worst fight I ever had with her. I was stupid. Ran her off, gave her a kick outta the door when she went, basically." He smiled humorlessly and sent Sam a lifeless glance. "Sound like someone else you know?" Dad. He meant Dad. Sam softened a little and Dean threw a hand up as he spoke to the air in front of himself. "Anyway. She went off and did her own thing, I went and did mine. That's it. What more's there to say?"

Sam was quiet and thoughtful. "She hunted this past year, right?"

Dean's jaw tensed briefly. "Yeah, uh yeah, she did. With a couple other hunters who aren't around anymore." He cracked a self-deprecating smile. "And I lived with Lisa and Ben. Until I didn't. Real riveting stuff, right?"

Sam could sense a lot of pain around that subject and studied his brother's profile in concern. "What happened with Lisa, man?"

That question seemed to rub Dean the wrong way and shut him down. "Let's just say irreconcilable differences, huh, Sammy?" Dean glanced at his watch cagily then growled slightly under his breath. "Geez, it's only been like five minutes. We should just get another room." He folded his arms and hunkered down into his seat, thinking a minute. "Cas and Alex, man. The ship that won't sink, right?" It was almost like he was talking to himself. "I don't get it. He's weird." He looked at Sam for support. "He's weird, right?"

Sam shrugged. "Uh… kinda, I guess. I dunno. But so is she. And so are we, to be honest." He chuckled ruefully, rubbing his hand across his mouth briefly. "At least they've stuck together, you know? I mean if they've been together for like, what—more or less two years now—that's better than either of us have ever done." The point he made clearly made Dean think for a second.

"Yeah, I guess," Dean answered, deep in self-examination. Without warning, he opened up to Sam with true, vast worry. "But… I mean am I really so insane to be worried, Sam? I'm still not a hundred percent on him and her. I'm just not. He's not a human and doesn't really know how to be one… means well, yeah, but... I just get this feeling sometimes Sam. Like, just… a bad feeling."

Sam smiled a little. "I think that's called being a big brother, Dean," he reasoned. "It's natural to feel worried about your sister."

Dean looked unenthused. "You don't seem to have an issue with them."

"I mean, I try and keep an open mind, I guess," Sam said, then thought for a minute. "I worry sometimes too," he admitted. "I worry a lot, actually—it's just what brothers do, you know? But every time I've seen them together, it seems like they just really get each other. And that's what Alex always needed. Someone who sees her for who she is and can just understand her without having to really try. For whatever reason, that's Cas." Sam quickly edited himself: "I'm not saying I don't see them having problems or issues, but who doesn't?"

Dean shook his head, frowning into middle distance. "I'm not talking about problems and issues. I'm talking about him being dangerous."

Sam was taken aback at that. "Cas? Dangerous?" Dean gave him a silent look and Sam scoffed through a confused expression. "This is Cas you're talking about—he's been on our side since Lilith, since Lucifer. He gave everything for us. I mean, we've both seen the lengths he'll go to for her. Can you seriously ever imagine him hurting her? No way." Dean was quiet and grudgingly chastened. Sam gave his brother an understanding look. "I know I haven't even seen them together since before I, you know—died—but you should give them more credit, Dean. Both of them. I mean, we all had to start somewhere, right?"

Dean sent Sam a churlish look. "Yeah sure Doctor Phil."

Sam laughed again—same grumpy-old-man Dean. But the marked development and acceptance Dean was showing in this whole Cas and Alex area was pretty damn impressive. Sam was proud of him. "Dean, I gotta say—" he started.

Dean cut him off with a pointed look, already knowing where Sam was going. "Say you're proud of me and I'll punch you in the face."

Sam backed off, chuckling to himself, and held his hands up in mock surrender.

They waited an hour then Sam went to the motel room door very cautiously, edging closer and listening in trepidation. Dean watched and when Sam flinched, made a face, and hurried back to the car shaking his head, Dean threw his hands up, complaining about how long this could possibly last for. Thirty minutes later, Sam checked again and it was all-clear and silent that time, but when he came to the car, he stopped Dean from getting out. "Let's wait like fifteen more."

Dean, who was tired and ready to sleep, made a face. "What for?"

Sam looked slightly embarrassed. "They… might be cuddling."

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed with disgust as he propped an elbow up against the car windowsill and rubbed his face. "Such a dweeb, Sam."

After fifteen minutes more, they went and knocked on the door, cautiously entering a dark motel room. Alex was alone in there and sprawled on a bed wearing some of Dean's gym shorts and a backwards t-shirt. Dean tried to turn a light on but nothing happened.

"Happened to the lights?" he asked in a mutter, pulling a flashlight out and peering around. Every single light in the room had shattered. The TV was busted, too.

"Hmmm?" Alex asked, sitting up and looking around at nothing in particular with a vapid, dreamy look on her face.

"Yeah, hi," Dean said, switching off the flashlight and looking around—he could see okay because of bright moonlight. "He still here?"

Sam was giving Dean a skeptical look from a few steps off as he tugged his jacket off. Alex sighed and flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. "Mmmope. All gone." She sounded sad when she spoke next. "Had to go back to the war. Frickin' hate that thing."

Dean squinted at her through the darkness. "Shirt's backwards."

She was smirking. "Putting on clothes is hard."

"Yeah, cry me a river," Dean retorted. "Okay, so which bed's safe to sleep on? Which one did you not… do stuff on?" He looked around the room nervously like he might catch a disease.

"Heh heh, this whole room's not safe," Alex said, then laughed.

Dean wasn't in the mood. "Not funny, Al!"

"I'm lagging," she said, rolling over a couple times in an effort to stand up off the bed. "Laughinging…ing." She pushed herself up off the bed and reached for Dean, squeezing his cheek affectionately. "Oh you guys I love Cas so mu-uuuuuch… really. I'm galled you are nice now to him and me… and I loveyouguys… really a lot, okay? You know that? You beliebe me?"

"Did you drink more?" Dean asked, astounded she could stand at this point.

"Uh, no?" Alex said, clearly a lie. She fell towards Sam and then embraced him tightly. "Aw, Sammy…" she said, patting his back and rubbing her face against his chest affectionately. Sam was uncertain of the affection, half smiling and half frowning. "I'm glad you're not a fuckin' crazyass bastard anymore."

Sam's weirded out expression deepened. "Uh, what?"

"She's drunk, man," Dean said a little too forcefully. "Must be the booze talking." He caught Alex by the arm and pulled her away. "Come on, you should probably sleep now."

Alex grinned at Dean. "You wore Rhonda Hurley's pink panties and liked it, haaahahaha!"

Dean balked, then looked at Sam as if to prove his point. "Yeah, see, that's not true."

Sam had a smirk on his face. "Really."

Dean was indignant. "Yes, really!"

---

The Next Day
Portland, Oregon

Once the Winchesters arrived to Portland they played FBI, questioned the missing girl Penny's sister—Penny was the one who had disappeared out of the airplane. After they did that, Dean had the twins set up shop in another motel room. Alex, nursing a hangover and a headache, stayed with Sam while Dean went to get burgers. Her hangover was, if nothing else, at least a good excuse for not having much to say to Sam.

Alex was trying to remember last night and could only remember parts. A few disjointed sexy memories of Cas remained—she definitely remembered him holding her afterwards and whispering sweet nothings, stroking her hair, kissing her forehead. She wished she hadn't gotten so drunk because she couldn't remember what he'd said or what exactly they'd done. She strained her mind, remembering giggling nonstop and trying dirty talk and she thought it had probably turned out all wrong—had she said things to him about his 'angel blade'? She thought maybe she remembered going down on him too, but there was no telling what things were actual memories and what things were just imaginings of her mind. Alcohol had addled her brain and memories and ughhhh her head hurt so bad.

"You okay over there?" Sam asked as she cradled her head in a hand.

"I'm never drinking ever again," she complained ruefully.

"Never heard that one before," Sam teased, sending her a playful lopsided grin over the top of the laptop. She returned the smile, a little mortified at herself. Apparently it had been pretty epic last night, the things she'd done and said.

The door to the motel opened and in came Dean. "Hey," Sam greeted as Dean carried in a bag of food and a drink carrier plus a bottle of Aspirin.

"What do you got?" Dean asked, setting the food down on the table where Sam was set up then tossing the Aspirin Alex's way. She caught the bottle as Dean pulled her drink out of the carrier.

"Uh… well, looks like those other two missing girls both baked cookies for the lord," Sam said sort of skeptically.

Dean, handing Alex her soda, made a face and gave Sam a look. "What is that? Code?"

"No," Sam said, explaining patiently. "Church choir, bake sales, promise-ring clubs—the works. They were good girls. But Penny wasn't even a Christian, so—"

"I have another theory," Dean said, whipping out a book from his suit jacket. "Penny's diary.

Sam looked faintly shocked. "Did you… steal that from her room?"

Dean cracked a smile that seemed genuinely touched. "I love that you even asked me that," he said.

Sam frowned a little. "And why wouldn't I?"

Dean paused, caught, then shook his head. "No reason. So, girl-nappings. What if it's not about religion, what if it's about purity?"

"Purity?" Alex asked, immediately skeptical.

Dean looked at her and shrugged. "Yeah, you know. Purity."

That was funny. "You sound like such an old fogey right now," she ribbed.

Sam was making a confused face. "You're saying you think they're all—"

"Virgins, Sam. Virgins."

Sam looked highly doubtful. "Penny was twenty-two," he said, and Dean sat down across from Sam, shrugging.

"Not everyone loses it when they're a teenager, Sam."

Alex made a face. Nope. They sure didn't.

Sam was a little uncomfortable. "Point taken but come on."

Dean pulled out the diary and paged through then read from it dramatically in a soft, sweet voice. "'I've decided I'm going to give Stan my most precious gift.'" He looked at Sam meaningfully.

Sam had a weird look on his face. "Wow, that sounded really creepy coming out of your mouth."

Dean didn't miss a beat and humbly inclined his head. "I think I delivered it."

Alex sat down at the third chair between the boys. "I think you should give Stan your most precious gift, Dean," she said, giving him a snarky little smile.

Dean made sneering little fake laughing noises—hee hee hee—then gave her a wan look. She only smiled a little bigger, pulling the bag of food over and digging around.

"Okay, let's say that's the profile," Sam said, going with the theory. "Who would want virgins?"

Dean seized the opportunity to be a wise-ass. "You got me. I prefer ladies with experience." He gave Sam a smile and an eyebrow waggle.

Sam, forever out to harsh Dean's mellow, just gave his brother a look. "Not what I meant, Dean."

"Okay, who would want virgins," Dean repeated, thinking over the question. "Uh, angels?" At that comment, Sam and Alex both gave their brother are you kidding right now looks. Dean was impressed at the display. "Wow, bitch face times two," he said, grinning at each of them in turn. "I've missed that."

---

The next day the Winchesters got a new lead when they caught wind of a girl who was attacked the previous night. The three of them went to see her in their FBI best. Melissa, hospitalized for deep clawed cuts across her back, claimed to have been attacked by something that looked like a giant bat. It took her solid gold promise ring—Dean came out and asked her if she should have been wearing the ring at all and she had been stunned then gotten incensed, saying: "Matt Barne didn't count!"

As the three of them left the hospital, they tossed theories back and forth. "So, what, you think Bat-man tried to rape her?" Sam asked as they headed for the parking lot.

"Whoa, Sam, easy on that word," Dean said abruptly, looking at Sam like he'd just been personally offended.

Sam was confused. "What, rape?"

"Just—shut it," Dean said without explanation. Behind them, Alex's face said it all, but Sam didn't see. "Look, the monster or whatever rejected her because she was already dehymenated."

Sam made a face. "You think?"

"You got another theory?" Dean retorted.

"Not really," Sam said, admitting his brother's point. "So, what kind of monster likes virgins and gold?"

"P. Diddy?" Dean wisecracked.

"You know, it's comforting," Sam said.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

Sam had a smile playing on his lips. "I died for a year, came back, and you're still not funny."

"Shut up," Dean replied, grinning. "I'm hilarious."

They arrived at the car and Sam caught sight of Alex's face as she opened the back door. He paused, frowning, alerted to the fact that something was bothering her. "You okay, Alex?" Sam asked.

The question caught Dean's attention too and he looked at their sister sharply over the top of the car.

The youngest Winchester just shook her head, shrugged, and brushed it off. "Yeah, fine."

Sam looked at Dean, who had this look on his face like he knew something. Before Sam could study it any further, Dean wiped his face blank and was getting into the car.

---

A few hours later the Winchesters were working on a pretty solid theory: dragons. They hoarded gold and kidnapped virgins—so those two markers met the profile. Only issue was dragons weren't real or not at least from any source they could find. Dean called Bobby up when Sam suggested dragons and Bobby had basically shot down the theory.

Sam had asked to see Dad's journal and Alex had handed it over. As Sam paged through, Dean was on the laptop and balefully scrolling through news sites. Alex was making a tedious pen-and-paper cross-reference compilation on all the information they had on the victims so far, searching for any other similarities or connections. So far, nothing.

Dean suddenly sighed and shut the laptop, studying Sam who was sitting on the corner of a bed, engrossed in the journal. "Dad never wrote anything about dragons," he said. "I promise. I'd remember if I read The Neverending Story in there."

Sam paused, frowning. He looked up with a mildly confused expression. "Hey, did we hunt a skinwalker lately? Like, before the apocalypse stuff happened?"

Dean hesitated and glanced at Alex briefly. She knew they had hunted a skinwalker… a month or so ago when Sam had been soulless. Dean lied. "Doesn't ring a bell. Why?"

Sam looked mildly disappointed. "I don't know. Just… déjà vu or something," he said, then shook his head, forehead crinkling in thought. "Are you sure? I could have sworn—"

"You got to remember, your eggs are still a little scrambled, right?" Dean pointed out, trying to sound nonchalant.

Sam didn't look convinced—he looked stressed out and confounded but he nodded, trying to brush aside his instincts. "All right. Yeah. Never mind."

Dean and Alex exchanged another dark glance. At that moment Dean's phone rang and he pulled it out, glanced at the screen, answered. "Hey, Bobby. What do you got?" There was a long pause. "Dr. Visyak, S.F.U. Got it. Thanks. All right. Great. Yeah. Bye." He hung up and stood.

"What was that?" Alex asked, watching curiously.

"A lead," Dean said, picking up some of his stuff—jacket, bag. "Maybe."

"Where you going?" she asked.

"San Fran to figure out how to kill these suckers. Bobby said this lady might be on the up-and-up with dragon stuff," Dean said, looking at her in a gauging way. "You two hang here, keep the research train rolling, figure out where they are, capiche?" He looked at her for confirmation and Alex nodded. That was fine with her. She couldn't run from answering Sam's questions forever. She'd have to get used to keeping things from him.

"Wait," Sam said, looking up from Dad's journal. "Did Bobby say where they like to park?"

"Nope," Dean said, shaking his head and shrugging.

"Great," Sam commented tiredly. "Back to the lore."

"Hey, two heads are better than one," Dean pointed out. "You two'll kill it in no time. Where's the lore say they live, anyway? Middle-Earth?"

Sam shook his head. "Caves."

Dean made a bit of a face. "You're such a nerd," he said, then turned and headed for the door.

"You're the one who just made the Tolkien reference," Alex said innocently.

"Ooh—" Sam made a hissing sound. "Burn."

Dean paused at the door and looked back at them. "Well stick me in the fire and call me a marshmallow," he said, accepting the burn. His smile reached his eyes. "Call me if you need me, kids," he said, then left. After the door shut, the room was quiet again for a minute and Alex got up and returned to studying the map with photos Dean had pinned to the wall. Standing like that put her back to Sam.

"He hasn't changed," Sam said after a minute.

She didn't pause or turn to look back at him, just agreed with him. "Not really."

There was a long pause. "You seem kinda different though."

That quiet observation stilled her and Alex took a second to try and make herself sound as casual as possible. "How so?"

"I dunno." Sam sounded pretty contemplative and concerned. "I mean, are you okay? Is… is something going on?"

Alex turned around and played it like she didn't know what he was talking about. "What would be going on?"

It was hard because he looked so very lost and confused and in need of answers and comfort. He could tell something was off. She knew he could. And he said so then, too. "Something just seems off… you, Dean, Bobby… it feels like there's something no one's telling me."

Can't tell him. It might break the wall. It might destroy him. Alex tried to find some kind of excuse that he'd believe. "I mean, it was a crazy year. A lot happened to us. And having you back is… overwhelming, kind of." Sam looked like he was considering becoming upset and Alex hurried to correct herself. "In a good way."

Sam closed Dad's journal slowly, purposefully, looked down at it with a tense jaw. "What aren't you telling me, Alex?" he asked, then looked at her plaintively.

Why did he have to be so insightful? "You're seeing something that's not there," she lied, trying to sound comforting. "If there was something you should know, I would tell you," she assured, dismayed at how easily the lies rolled off her tongue. "Let's just figure out this job, okay?"

Sam wasn't convinced and they both knew it but he let it go. "Yeah. So. Dragons." He stood up and came to stand beside her and look at the map on the wall. She joined him in studying it. "Where the hell would they be? Caves, but there's nothing around for miles." Sam squinted in thought. "You think the dragons swoop in on this town then take their victims twenty miles away, maybe?"

Alex acknowledged the theory with the shrug of a shoulder. "Possible. Or maybe caves are faux pax these days—maybe dragons use subway tunnels? Sewers, boarded up old buildings?"

Sam circled back to the table where some city blueprints they'd gotten yesterday were laid out. "No subway lines here," he said thoughtfully. "So it's sewers or maybe old buildings." He stared down hard at the blueprints then shook his head. "…Dean said you guys fought before you split up," he said. He wasn't going to be able to let it go, was he? Alex steeled her nerves. Sam was giving her the puppydog eyes. "What happened this year?" he asked in a pained voice. "I never thought you guys would break apart like that in a million years. I mean, I know me and you did, but—you and Dean?"

She could be honest about this, at least in part. Still, she considered her words carefully. "The thing about Dean is that as long as he's got you or me to hold onto, he'll never reach out for anything else." It was hard to know how to feel about that. On one hand, Dean deserved a real, normal life. On the other hand, he didn't seem to be cut out for it or to enjoy it when he had it. Alex shrugged, trying to explain without going into too much detail. "So, I dunno. I pushed him away. I thought he wanted a normal life. But maybe not."

"How long were you alone out there?" Sam asked, voice soft and filled with the kind of care and concern she hadn't heard from him in a long, long time.

The year she'd struggled through flashed across her mind and the mostly unpleasant nature of it turned her stomach. "Awhile. Met some people. Some good. Some bad."

Sam was utterly bemused. "And Cas, he was with you, right?"

"No." Alex looked down. It still hurt to think about this even though it was over. "He disappeared without a word for a year, pretty much."

"What?" Sam looked like he hadn't heard right. "A year?"

"Yeah," Alex said, explaining factually—it was easier to do that than talk about feelings. "There's a war in Heaven now. Some angels are trying to restart the apocalypse and Cas wasn't about to let that happen. So… it's him against the last archangel. Raphael."

Sam was focused on something else. "And what, Cas couldn't tell you where he was that whole time?" he demanded sort of insolently, like he was pissed on her behalf. That was sweet and brought a sad smile to her face.

"No. The threats against me were too big, apparently. And the angels Cas sent with messages for me? They never delivered the messages. So, Cas thought I knew."

Sam took a couple seconds, thinking it through, processing. "Wow. That… sucks." He nodded tensely, digesting, then he sought her gaze. "But obviously you two are… kosher now," he said, making a little bit of a face as he silently implied last night. Alex awkwardly smiled, shrugged. Yup. Sam looked at her with a mixture of doubtfulness and intense questioning. "He treats you right? Looks out for you?"

More than she could say, really. She nodded, self-conscious, fingers absently brushing against her penny out of nervous energy. "Yeah. He does." She cleared her throat and nodded her head toward the door. "Listen, I'm gonna go see about getting us some dinner and finding some better topography maps at the library or courthouse. Maybe there are caves in Portland." She grinned, dismissing the more serious conversation.

Sam nodded agreeably. "You want me to come with?"

"Nah, it's all within walking distance. You stay here and keep digging," she said then paused. "Unless you wanna come along?"

Sam hesitated then smiled, shook his head. "Yeah, you know, I might take a shower. You go ahead. Got your phone?"

She turned around at the door. "Always." She wished she could tell him how glad she was just for that question about her phone—he hadn't cared about her at all for a year and now he was making sure he could get in touch with her, asking her about Cas. She couldn't tell him any of it. Instead she just gave him a smile and then headed out the door.

When she left, Sam took a couple seconds. Something was wrong. He knew something was off but they weren't telling him what. Instead of demanding an answer, he decided to get creative. He shut his eyes and blew out a nervous breath of air. "Castiel, um… I'm back. So, if you got a minute…" he opened his eyes, peeked around. Nothing. He looked behind himself, then heard the softest sound in the front of the room and quickly looked back. Cas stood there, just as Sam remembered: stern, trench-coat wearing, and deeply introspective looking.

"Sam," Cas greeted, his face softening. "It's so good to see you alive."

"Yeah," Sam said, remembering pretty clearly the moment when his hand had forced Alex's to drive an angel blade through Cas's heart. He swallowed, suddenly a little more emotional than he meant to be. "You too."

Of all the things to happen then, Sam hadn't expected this: Cas walked forward to Sam, his arms out in an attempt to hug him. Panicking, Sam dodged the hug by sitting down.

Rejected, Cas faltered, arms freezing momentarily.

Sam was embarrassed. "Um… look, I-I would hug you, but—"

Cas retracted his arms. "—it would be awkward," he supplied, seeming to understand.

Sam didn't think he did. Without meaning to, he was remembering what noises he'd heard Cas making last night however briefly. Awkward wasn't quite a big enough word for it. "Sorry, man, just uh… um… was a crazy year, huh?"

"Frankly, I'm surprised that you survived," Cas said. He'd walked off a few steps to make Sam more comfortable. "I was begging Dean not to do it."

Do what? The deal with Death that Sam knew next to nothing about? Sam tried to look agreeable, like he knew exactly what Cas was talking about. "Yeah. No, I-I-I can understand that."

"You know it's a miracle it didn't kill you," Cas said grimly.

Jesus Christ, Dean, what did you do? Sam just nodded slowly, outwardly agreeable and inwardly getting more and more afraid of what he was about to find out. "Yeah. Yeah, it's a miracle, all right."

"So how does it feel?" Cas asked softly, looking at Sam inquisitively.

"…How does it feel?" Sam repeated, totally clueless as to what Cas was talking about.

Cas frowned deeply. "Well to have your soul back, of course," he said.

Sam's heart dropped and his stomach turned. To have my soul back? But that means…

Sam had to force his horror away to act nonchalant. "Right," he said weakly. "Y-you mean 'cause I was walking around with no soul." He swallowed, not even sure what that meant. What did it even mean to be soulless? No wonder Dean and Alex were acting so weird around him.

Cas wanted to know 'how it felt' to have his soul back and Sam had no idea, but he needed answers. So, he pretended he already knew everything. "Uh... it feels really good, Cas. I'm real good. You know what? I'm—I'm just hazy on a few of the details, though, it got kinda jumbled and uh… um... you think maybe you could… walk me through?" Sam was lying before he could stop himself. He just needed to know. "Dean and Alex said you'd explain it best and uh, I was just really hoping you had a few minutes to clear it up for me."

Compassion and deeply genuine care rested on Cas's face. "Of course, Sam," he said, seeming to be touched by the thought that Dean and Alex had both suggested he would be best for something. Sam hated that it was a lie, but what could he do? Cas's expression grew somber as he crossed the room to come closer to Sam. He sat on the bed near to Sam and leaned over his knees, clasped his hands together, and thought deeply for a moment as he looked down.

Sam swallowed his dread. It was like Cas about about to give him bad news, and Sam didn't know how bad it'd get—he hoped he was overreacting. He hoped it wasn't as bad as his instincts seemed to suspect. Cas looked Sam in the eye, serious and grave. "Well, Sam, I supposed the best place to begin is… the beginning."

---

When Alex got back to the motel an hour after she'd left, she breezed in, grocery store bag in hand. She plopped it down onto the table, distracted with her keys. "Hey Sam, you want some—" she stopped mid-sentence. Her twin was sitting on the end of one of the beds, leaned over his knees and staring at the floor between his feet with a miserable, sick expression on his face. Immediately knowing something was wrong, Alex stilled as her alarm level jumped a few notches. "What's wrong?"

Sam shook his head, not looking at her. His face was working overtime, struggling hard. "I am… so, so sorry," he said in a voice that was broken and just above a whisper. "For the things I did and didn't do this year."

Oh my god. Alex stood there panicking, not sure what to do. Maybe he was talking about something else, something other than what she thought he was. "…What are you talking about, Sam?" she asked in cautious dread.

He looked up at her and the pain on his face was unmistakable. He looked heartbroken, guilty, confused. "We both know exactly what I'm talking about," he said in a breathy whisper. His eyes glittered with tears.

How did he suddenly know? Alex took a couple steps closer. "You… remembered?" she asked carefully.

Sam let out a soft derisive laugh, sniffed, and dragged a hand down over his face. "Not really. I, uh, I called Cas while you were gone. Sorta… got the full story from him."

Swallowing, she felt herself getting physically woozy from the shock and fear. "How full?"

"All of it. Everything." Her first thought was to comfort him and let him know it was okay and she attempted to approach him but Sam stood up, backed away from her. "How can you even look at me?" he asked almost accusingly. "After I tried to kill you? After I let you and Dean get turned to vampires? I mean, how can you even wanna be in the same room with me?"

Oh Sam—her carefully hidden emotions began to near the surface as he fell apart in front of her. "Because the guy that did those things wasn't you," she said, meaning ever word.

"But that was me," he replied vehemently, dismayed. "I wasn't possessed, I wasn't brainwashed… it was me. Just, without empathy and without a soul."

Shaken up and getting worried about where this conversation would go or lead, Alex put her hands onto her forehead for a brief moment. "We're not supposed to talk about this," she said, voice strained with worry. "Cas shouldn't have told you." She made a soft sound of self-loathing, a soft growl in her throat. "But he didn't know that." Because she'd been too trashed to apparently talk about anything of importance to him last night.

"Why?" Sam asked, emotional and upset. "Why am I not supposed to know I was walking around for a year without a soul?"

"Because that whole year, your soul was in the cage being flayed!" Alex said, wetting her lips in frantic dismay as she tried to make him understand. "Death put a wall in your mind to protect you from the things you don't remember—and Dean said it could kill you if you remember too much."

"Well, I'm fine," Sam said, not seeming too happy about the fact. "I still don't remember anything. All I know is what Cas told me." He shut his eyes briefly, getting more upset, but at a quiet level, an unsettling level. "Alex…" he swallowed, opened his eyes, looked at her with the saddest, most anxious gaze he possessed. "Cas told me… he said…"

Her blood felt cold with dread. "…What?"

Sam shook his head again and his jaw worked, his voice was unsteady. "Y-you and the demon blood." Sledgehammer to the stomach, that reminder. But Sam wasn't done. His voice trembled with growing soft anger. "You and…" he shook his head with a certain cold fury in his eyes as his nostrils flared and his eyes burned into the floor. "I don't even wanna say his name."

The air evaporated out of the room and Alex fought to stay composed. She couldn't go through this again. "Don't," she said quietly, trying not to remember blond hair and cruel hands and harsh gray eyes. "Please."

Sam looked at her in utter horrified disbelief. "So it's true?" he asked, breaking her heart again with that look on his face.

Alex forced a shrug, hating this subject and wanting to forget it, erase it, never think of it ever again. "Yeah." She kept her voice tough but Sam was making it so hard to stay emotionally solid at this point as he kept looking at her with such a wounded, sad expression. She tried to brush it off, she tried not to care anymore, even as emotion boiled under the surface. "It's over. It's okay."

Sam shook his head emphatically, twice, his jaw squared. "Someone hurt my sister," he said in a voice that shook with the rawest and deepest emotion. "That will never be okay."

The way he said it broke her. "Sam—" she choked out, trying to say something to make this whole thing stop, to make him stop looking at her like that. But it was like the incoming tide. No one could stop it.

When she broke down, Sam did too, just like when they were little kids and had resonated off each other, crying when the other cried, laughing when the other laughed. When she put her face in her hands to hide from him and cry in shame at herself, Sam pulled her close, held her tight, and didn't let go. "I'm sorry," he kept saying in a voice wracked with grief and guilt. "I'm so sorry."