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.

94. Walls of Jericho

Song Remains the Same

Chapter 94 / Walls of Jericho

"Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise."
- The Civil Wars

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Alex hoped and prayed that she wasn't wrong about this. She hurried her steps and tried to push away the weight of worry. Please, please be where I think you'll be. Glancing left then right, she jogged across the main road and headed for the park they'd passed just a few moments ago in the car. She had this feeling Cas would go there to escape, and she was banking everything on that feeling. In her jacket, concealed but constantly on her mind, was her angel blade. Dean said demons were out to get 'Emmanuel' and she was almost worried that Cas would let himself be taken or get hurt out at this point. His sudden disappearance was upsetting to say the least but not out of character… Cas used to do nothing but disappear when things got to be too much for him.

Still about three tenths of a mile out from her destination, Alex couldn't make out too much in the park or see him yet (if he was there at all). With every step, she was fighting off more and more growing major dread of the what if. What if she got there and he was nowhere to be found? What if he'd zapped off halfway across the world? What if he didn't come back? What if he hurt himself because of his distress? What if demons found him? Alex hung onto the hope that Cas wouldn't go very far away from her and that he wouldn't do anything foolish, she really felt like he wouldn't… but she could be wrong about that… and if the demons had gotten to him first she might never have a way of knowing. And the thing that upset her the most: Cas knew Sam needed help. So he couldn't stay gone. He had to come back.

As the distance closed between her and the roadside park, she scanned it with frantic eyes in an effort to spot Castiel. The park had a few benches, three picnic tables, rusty old cookout grills, a worn out swing set and slide/climb structure beside an open area for ball games. There were a couple families and a good number of kids there but where was Cas? She didn't see him anywhere and as a result she began to feel incredibly alarmed. If he wasn't here where would he be? And then at that moment, she spotted him and stopped walking out of sheer, heart-stopping relief—she almost hadn't recognized him for a second because of the blue sweater. But it was him. Sitting on a flat wooden bench at the far edge of the park with his back turned to her and to the park, his head was hung and his shoulders were slumped and he faced the obviously abandoned and overgrown football field—yellow ragweed grew wild across the open area. Alex charged forward before he could spirit away again.

Blindly striding through a casual game of soccer between some middle schoolers and disrupting the entire thing, Alex made a beeline for the angel who had been dead just an hour ago. She was breathless with the conviction that she had to get him to come back with her and convince him to stay, to help them… to not leave her. But, as she got closer and closer to him, she slowed to a barely-moving drift as caution and worry took over. He'd remembered everything. That had to be overwhelming. Faltering in hesitation, Alex came to a complete stop behind him, a few paces off and to his left. If he knew she was there, he gave no sign of it.

This was where she needed to say something. What words would possibly reach out to him past the agony she knew he must be feeling? She was afraid to make him feel attacked. She knew he already felt lower than low—in the last moments they had shared before he had walked into the lake, his guilt and despair had been at all time highs over what he had done—and she couldn't blame him; she remembered the things that he had done—or at least what had been done through him. She remembered it very well.

Cas was probably reliving all of those horrors even now and Alex began to feel like the wind was puttering out of her sails. Would he even talk to her? Would he disappear again if he knew she was there? And then he spoke, startling her.

"Why am I alive?" Her heart twisted. He lifted his head a little and looked back over his shoulder at her, his startlingly blue eyes rendering her lungs a little less full than before. "I shouldn't be near you—I shouldn't be here."

His emotional pain seeped into her, making her hurt along with him. "Cas—" she began slowly, chancing a step closer. He looked almost afraid at her growing proximity and she stopped short, staying a safe distance—but it confused her.

When he seemed assured that she wasn't going to come closer, he swallowed and his eyebrows worked tensely. Struggling to come to terms, Cas's tortured blue gaze stared into her eyes. "Alex… I lost control," he said, and his face was a mask of pain. He spoke slowly, his deep, husky voice filled with grief, horror, and even disbelief. "I killed you, I killed Dean and Bobby." There was a leaden, heavy pause. "I decimated Heaven, I massacred my brothers and sisters without mercy, I slaughtered the innocent here on earth…" it became too much and he bowed his head down in absolutely staggered shame. His voice was barely audible. "I became a monster, a murderer. I abused you. I hurt you. I was about to—to force myself onto you." He looked sick and his eyes slid back in her direction but he wouldn't look at her fully. "And what happened on the mountaintop…" his voice dropped to a mere, trembling whisper as she suddenly felt sick right along with him. "I remember your screams."

Those four words hit her like a thunderbolt and called to mind a moment she wanted to forget forever… when the monsters who had possessed Cas, one in particular, had held her down and forced a painful, sexual nightmare onto her with his mouth. It was so strange that the one she loved most of all had been the host to the monster who had scarred her the worst. At Alex's incredibly quieted demeanor, Cas looked at her with increased pain, obviously blaming and hating himself for letting it happen to her. He had been there, too, just like her. But he hadn't been able to do a thing.

"It… it wasn't you who did all of that stuff," she said, trying to be brave, trying not to let herself remember much of it. "It was… it was him." She couldn't say his name out loud: Destroyer. He had called himself that. She would never forget.

Cas didn't deny it, but he was obviously not comforted in the slightest. There was a long, stiff silence. "I… I sent him back to Purgatory," Cas finally said in a weak, distracted voice, telling her what she had already guessed—but truth be told it was a huge relief to know once and for all that he was gone and locked away. "But the Leviathan…" he trailed off, forgetting whatever he'd been about to say. "How could I have allowed any of what transpired? Why couldn't I break through until it was nearly too late?" He looked at her, pleading with her silently to give him answers. She really didn't have any. All she had was pain. At her silence, his eyebrows pressed inward further. "I was trying to fix a mistake and then I made an even bigger one," he said, his voice thick and struggling to be steady. "I deserved to die. I should never have walked out of that lake. So why am I still here?" He looked ahead of himself into middle distance and thought deeply for a very tense second. In that silence, Alex chanced going closer and she sat near him on the flat bench, but facing the opposite direction. "The pain I caused, the ruin I left behind…" he murmured guiltily. "Nothing can ever fix what I did."

Alex stared hard at one of her knees, then looked at him sidelong. "Maybe not," she returned quietly. It was a very sobering, difficult subject. One she didn't know how to face, either. "But… I know at least one thing you can make right."

His expression wavered slightly at what she implied. "Sam." His grief increased as he struggled for words. "What I did to him—I can't believe I could justify doing that, even for a moment." He looked very young and lost at that moment, very vulnerable and afraid. "I lost my mind," he murmured in a strained voice. "Lost it."

"Yeah," she confirmed quietly, sensitive to his distress. There was another silence between them in which happy shrieks from children playing punctuated their mutual misery. Alex looked at his profile—he looked so sick. She thought it he were human, he might have vomited or wept once he was over the shock of it. Overwhelmed with compassion for him because she understood more than most people would about what monsters could make you do, she tried to comfort him. "Cas… you were possessed. You can't blame yourself for—"

His eyes snapped to hers. "Of course I can blame myself," he interjected with a passion borne out of self-horror. His response startled her. His eyes were shining with gathering tears. "I wasn't possessed when I broke the wall in Sam's mind—I wasn't possessed when I… when I took your life." He said those last few words in a weak voice and he shuddered, appalled at what he'd done all over again. He drew in a few sharp and shaking breaths as his gaze fell away to scan the ground in front of himself unseeingly. "Alex, those actions were mine. Don't excuse what I did, any of it. It all happened because of me, maybe I wasn't the one who slaughtered two hundred and sixty-two religious leaders, maybe I wasn't the one who all but obliterated the Heavenly Host… but it happened because of me. Every last part." His face contorted and he looked as if he could cry freely. He struggled to speak at all. "I thought I could save you, I thought I could do it all on my own and I destroyed everything instead." His hand was near to hers and gripped the bench so tightly that it groaned and splintered a little underneath his superhuman strength. Alex reached out and put her hand on his and his grip relaxed, surprise broke his blind moment and he looked at her hand on his a moment before he pulled out of her touch completely. A little stung by his rejection, Alex watched as he languished in misery and met her hurt gaze with agonized eyes. "I blotted your soul out of existence…" he reminded her painfully. "Do you realize that?"

"I'm not excusing it, Castiel," she replied, her hurt translating into a harder tone. His word choice, asking what she 'realized' felt almost patronizing, and she didn't want him to think she was here to put a bandage on his cut and then carry on like nothing had ever happened. She didn't know if she could ever really forgive and forget all the lies he'd told or what had happened because of it all. "I don't need reminding of how terrible it got—I was right there." Their gazes held a minute and her anger faded in favor of quiet, echoing horror. They had both been there and hadn't had a choice but to get dragged through what Destroyer did. Her voice softened and quieted and her eyes fell away from his. "I… I still have nightmares about it."

Cas looked heartbroken all over again and she could feel his eyes on her. "I never wanted to be your nightmare." He spoke barely above a whisper.

I know you didn't. She abruptly felt too emotionally exhausted to speak, so she didn't—just kept her eyes off of his and took a moment to try and hold it all together. A light breeze ruffled through the trees as birds called back and forth. Kids laughed on the nearby playground. Swings creaked under the weight of joyful children as they pumped legs hard and fast to try and reach the sky. And nearby to all that exhilaration, a broken angel and a weary hunter could neither one understand how anyone could think the world was a happy place at all.

"You were right to try and thwart my plans to open Purgatory," Cas said softly after a moment of thought, his voice laced with deep regret. "You knew better than I did, it would seem. I truly wish I had known where my actions would lead. It seems I discovered for myself: the road to ruin is paved with good intentions." His tone darkened with a forlorn quality. "I never understood that saying until now." He sounded miserable to understand it at all. "Why was I brought back? I should be dead."

She turned her head toward him, her reluctant eyes slowly sliding up toward his face. He wasn't looking at her. "Maybe you were brought back to try and make things right," she chanced.

"There isn't a way to make things right," he monotoned, shoulders slumped down in defeat. "It's far too late."

Alex's temper flared. "It is too late for some things but not everything." When he said nothing, she glared, trying to convict him, light a fire under his ass, get him to do something besides feel sorry for himself. "You know what? You don't get to give up just because you feel like shit—I did that and it was hell and a half—and you don't get to act like you don't owe it to us to at least try."

His guilty eyes raised to hers and the pain there softened her immediately. "…I'm afraid to try," he confessed. Her heart broke for him immediately—and anger was swept away in favor of deeply abiding empathy. Oh, Cas. She understood that fear, oh god how she understood that fear. "Everything I touch…" he continued, "it crumbles into pieces. What if I only make things worse?"

She wanted so badly to touch him or hug him, to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay. But she stayed where she was and tried to reach out to him with words alone. "You won't."

His expression worked hard—he obviously wanted to believe her but was apprehensive to do so. "You don't know that," he protested faintly.

He looked so alone that it was really starting to kill her. She touched his forearm gently and carefully, drawing his gaze. "Look. I understand feeling like you just wanna bow out, trust me. But you can't. Please."

I did that and trust me… there is nothing for you there. Just a wasteland of despair and loneliness.

He looked ashamed that she would try to comfort him at all. "…How am I supposed to live with this guilt?" His question was strained and faint. "Is that why I forgot everything? Because my mind couldn't take it?" His gaze searched hers in a deeply disconsolate way. "I was trying to save you," he whispered. "I was trying to do the right thing. I just wanted the war to be over. I was so tired of carrying it all on my own." His expression stayed wretched. "…Did I love you too much?"

The question was all the sadder because it showed that sweet, naive side that made Cas so endearing—but it wasn't cute in this instance as it was in so many others. Instead, it was tragic. Alex shook her head slowly. "I… I don't know," she whispered back. She'd never thought that would be possible to love someone too much. But maybe there was a limit if it ended like this. Their gazes crossed and a sudden burst of absolutely surreal feelings capsized on her when those skyblue eyes met hers. It hit her all over again and for a minute, all of the high stakes were forgotten. Cas was here. Not lost forever like she'd believed—and that knowledge left her absolutely amazed all over again, in a state of sudden semi-shock. "I mean, I can barely believe I'm actually… talking to you again," she confessed in a soft, dreamlike voice. Her emotions were totally haywire, unsure of what direction to go or what to feel. "You were dead. You walked into that lake and never came out and… I mourned you. Still was until like an hour ago." And now they were together again. Talk about unexpected.

Cas swallowed down her words with difficulty. "I didn't know," he said softly, anguish making his facial features rigid as he looked down and away. "Almost six months I was living in Colorado." He looked confused past belief. "And not once did I remember you or anything from my past life. I don't understand…"

She didn't either. And it hurt to hear. Because it felt like Castiel had haunted her every waking and sleeping moment—and he hadn't thought of her or remembered her once. A hard pill to swallow. Memory loss usually meant brain damage or something, right? Alex internally lamented their bad luck and she wished so badly that she had been the one Cas crawled out of the lake to find. Not that Daphne bitch.

"If I knew you were out there…" Alex began softly.

"I know," he supplied heavily when she trailed off. "You would have found me." What would have been romantic otherwise sounded like him loathing himself further.

"Of course I would have," she said, mourning the fact that he had somehow found himself with some other woman and let her call him 'husband.' She didn't know how to ever get over that—some other woman taking Cas to bed with her every night. It made her heart clench as she thought about it. "But I had no freaking idea," she whispered. She so very much wished she had. "And… and everything just… just fell apart." Her chest rang with pain as she thought about the last hellish six months of life.

Cas immediately noticed what she tried to hide and looked at her with intense, quizzical concern. "What do you mean?" The concern in his deep, husky voice made her feel.

Alex tried to downplay it by instinct. "It was all too much for me," she hedged. Couldn't this wait for later? She didn't really want him to know how badly his loss had affected her. Or the things she had done as she grieved…

Cas hadn't taken his discerning gaze off her for a second—he knew something was off. "Alex… what happened?" he questioned gently, and his audible worry made it impossible for her to not tell him.

"...It wasn't pretty," she admitted, and she felt so embarrassed she could have cried. Instead, she tried to put on a stony face while she picked at a splinter on the bench. "Full blown psychotic break, I guess."

The wind was audibly knocked out of Castiel. "Oh Alex…"

"I'm okay now," she said stiffly, shrugging it off and forcing a grimacing smile out towards the park instead of at him.

Cas didn't accept what she said for one second. "No, you're not," he denied. "I can sense it." Caught out, Alex's resolve faded as he continued to refuse to believe her. "I sensed it from the moment I first saw you today." Her eyes tried to look into his then fell away. Her hand was still between them on the bench and Alex almost jumped in surprise when she felt Cas falteringly reach over and cover hers in his. Their eyes met and even though he looked so apprehensive, he let fingers lace through hers slightly. And for him to reach out to her like that, in such a slight and tentative way… emotion went soaring up. "What happened to you?" he appealed quietly, and she felt this huge lump in her chest even as she wondered how the hell she had lived without him all this time.

"Maybe I'm not completely okay," Alex admitted in a whisper as she fought for composure and control. "But I'm a whole hell of a lot more okay than I was."

Castiel didn't know the details and she was trying so hard not to reveal them, but it was obvious that he was sensing her inner turmoil and seeing it for what it was: huge and relentless. Empathy and concern filled his careworn face and after a moment of considering her and hesitating, he turned more toward her and reached for her, carefully pulling her to him in a tentative, careful hug. Stunned but already turning to him and putting her arms around him too, Alex shut her eyes and breathed out sharply as she tried not to lose it. Oh to be held by him again—there were no words. He felt gentle, strong, safe, and familiar; he smelled like she remembered, he felt so right—and as such she crumbled and held on tight—she whispered his name softly, tears breaking out. His hand cradled the back of her head as she turned her face into the crook of his neck and cried softly, grieving for everything that had gone so wrong and could never be taken back. They held each other for a long moment in an embrace of mutual pain and comfort. "I was so convinced, Alex," he finally whispered into her hair, his chest rumbling against hers. "That I could carry it all on my own. That I had to do it on my own." He drew back to look at her and saw the tear track on her cheek. He wiped it away with a thumb as his mournful expression held. "And look where that pride took us all," he murmured, voice tightening He was pulling away abruptly, appearing mildly panicked. "I should just go. I shouldn't be near you ever, at all."

Alex felt like her stomach dropped out of her body. He made to stand and she grabbed his wrist, not even letting him finish shifting forward to put weight onto his feet. "No. Don't you fucking dare," she said forcefully, voice trembling. He looked at her in faint surprise. "You don't get to run away! You put me through too much to walk out on me now when you just got back—you can't leave, not again, do you understand me? You screwed up, now we fix it. There isn't another option, Cas! What you did to my brother is killing him and you might be the only person in the world who can help—I don't care if you feel like shit about us, about you and me, about what you did… you have to do something!" She let go of his wrist—as if her human strength could have kept him there at all.

Castiel was cowed, and he made no more attempts to move or stand. But he looked more upset than ever. "You're right but I… I just… how can we possibly… how is there a way past this? After what I did?" he asked softly. "How can you even bear to look me in the eye?" He swallowed thickly as he fought off more dismay. "I'm a failure."

She shook her head no—she knew what it was like to feel that way. "Failing isn't failure until you give up," Alex said, quoting one of her mental care doctors word for word. She believed those words, too.

Castiel was touched by her words. "Your kindness regarding the matter is generous, if misplaced," he said with contrition as his guilty aqua gaze rose to hers. "But Alex, did you forget?" He paused in heartbroken pensiveness. "I… I claimed another woman as my spouse."

Alex stiffened. Utter cold hatred for that woman ran through her veins. Daphne might have been nice for all she knew, but Alex hated her on principle. "No," she said quietly, growing intensely upset all over again. "I didn't forget." She pictured Castiel kissing that woman, in bed with that woman.

Cas sounded rueful and embarrassed. "I didn't want to marry her, I didn't even like her."

"But that didn't stop you from being with her, did it," Alex returned darkly. She was so hurt at the thought of Castiel sleeping with someone else. Even if she was just as guilty, she was so incredibly hurt by the thought.

Cas frowned, seeming to abruptly realize something at Alex's sullen demeanor. "No—Alex, it wasn't—she and I, we never—we were never physically intimate, ever." What? Alex looked at him in sheer disbelief. Never intimate? How could that be true? Cas seemed very worried she wouldn't believe him. "Except for one kiss she initiated, I never touched her. I couldn't. I didn't want to. Even if I didn't remember you at the time… I was faithful to you." Oh my god. His choice of words, his earnestness, the realization that she'd been wrong—maybe Alex should have laughed from relief. But she could only feel one thing: Horrified. Her outward reaction of dismay was so immediate and obvious that Cas's face fell and worry grew. "What is it?"

"…I wasn't." she managed just barely. I wasn't faithful. She tried to swallow but her throat was dry and thick. "I… I slept with someone else," she whispered, and oh god the look on his face when she said that. Alex was utterly devastated by the way he became so abruptly hurt, confused, and speechless. The tears were returning because Alex had regretted that useless encounter ever since it had happened—but now she would give anything to take it back. And with Cas looking at her like that after just telling her he had been married and yet hadn't slept with anyone else… she felt like the lowest person alive. "I'm so sorry—" she rasped through a tight throat.

Cas struggled for words as the pain on his face grew and grew—his eyes searched hers, silently begging for an assurance that he'd misunderstood. "You… you had sexual relations with someone who wasn't me?" The hurt in his voice was a lot to take in.

She wished so bad she could give a different answer, but was forced to choke the truth out in a single wretched word. "Yes."

After he silently fought to find words for a second, his eyes took on a fearful quality. "And are you still…" he trailed off. Oh my god. He assumed she was with someone else, like, in a relationship or something.

She rushed to hopefully ease the blow in a small way. "No, no—it was only once, Cas," she said through the tears making her voice unsteady and high-pitched. "Once. I knew it was a mistake even while it was happening and I regret it so much more now than before, and Jesus I regretted it before…"

How could she ever apologize enough? It felt like something she could never get over. "I… I don't know what to say," he said quietly, and there were tears in his eyes, too—he struggled, and she thought he was going to say something about how hurt he was. "This person… they were respectful with you?" he asked softly, face rigid with concern.

Could her heart break any further? Cas should be furious, he should tell her she was easy and desperate, that he hated her. And here he was asking that…? Alex struggled to speak through the sadness flooding her face with tears. "I mean… physically yeah but…"

Even in his own pain, Cas's primary concern was for her. "But what?" he asked, watching her closely with ever-growing worry.

Alex couldn't look at him anymore. "Well I, I felt tricked when I found out who he really was… he lied to me about some pretty big stuff." She was being so vague about it, but Alex couldn't tell Cas the full truth. Not yet. Maybe not ever. The truth about how the guy she fucked on the floor had been a Leviathan. "It was kind of shady, honestly," Alex said, more and more ashamed. She tried to excuse herself in some way or make it more understandable or more forgivable. "I mean the entire thing happened when I was wasted and high, right after Bobby died…"

More pained surprise showed on Cas's face. "Bobby is dead? Oh, Alex…" he trailed off and he watched as she stared at her knees with increasing emotional duress—she was about to fucking lose it. And then, of all things, Cas reached for her and told her ever so softly, "come here." She was absolutely floored as he pulled her to him until she was in his lap with her legs hanging over the edge of one of his—her face buried in his chest and he held her fiercely and comforted her about it all even though she thought he should be shaming her. His warmth enveloped her, soothed her, made her feel so much emotion. She clutched him hard and didn't know how she could ever have done what she did that night at Sunny Meadows. But she loved Cas more than ever for this moment, for him being there for her even after he'd learned she'd been with someone else. He overwhelmed her completely. As her tears quieted after a long minute, he was quiet and tense and sober. "Were you… taken advantage of?" he finally asked in a gentle, cautious, worried voice. Alex realized from the way that she'd put it with the reference to drunkenness that she could spin it that way easily.

She wanted to lie and say that she was so high and drunk she hadn't known what was happening—she wanted someone other than herself to take the blame, she was afraid that he might truly reject her once and for all if he knew the total truth. But despite all that, she shook her head no and told him straight. She wouldn't put more lies into this mess of a relationship. "No," she confessed miserably. "I knew what I was doing." Alex squeezed her eyes closed and she began to lose composure again. She was so afraid he would be too hurt by this to ever recover, that he would decide she wasn't worthy of his love and it terrified her. "I thought you were dead… I thought you were dead!" She wept hard, her body wracked with sobs that were bitterly regretful. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have done that, shouldn't have done that," she blubbered, clutching him all the tighter. And he held her as she cried about what she'd done, and his touch was gentle and steadfast in the face of her grief… but, she could feel how wounded he was without even seeing his face.

She shuddered and hiccuped a couple times, suddenly too exhausted to cry. She contemplated herself as the tears ebbed off and she didn't know what to do with herself. She understood, thanks to therapy, that all of her feelings were valid and she shouldn't try to shut them down before they had been processed and acknowledged. But these emotions were hard. And she would prefer it if she could have been less pitiful and less tearful. It felt like weakness. She thought, briefly, of how Castiel was her weak spot. At this point in time, it remained to be seen if he bettered or worsened her. Her head had many theories on him being someone that made her worse. But her heart only had one longing. And that longing was for him.

When she finally looked up into his face, he was already looking into hers. The pain sketched there across his handsome face was so easy to see. Some hair had stuck to the side of her face thanks to the tears and Cas gently traced fingers there, moving them away. It was something he did by instinct and without thought. "Did you—do you—love him?" he asked softly, dread filling his tone.

Alex shook her head no immediately, her eyebrows slamming together. I could never. "No. I love—" she stopped short, her heart catching in her throat because it almost seemed like to claim she loved him was a lie or an insult. Their eyes were locked and hope, misery, despair all colored her voice—she couldn't not say it. "You."

Cas looked all at once relieved, pained, afraid, and uncertain. "How can you love me after what I did?" he asked faintly.

She didn't know how she could. She also didn't know how she couldn't. "I could ask you the same thing," she whispered. Then she realized the error in her assumption: she didn't know if he still loved her. Maybe this revelation about her dalliance would erase everything he'd felt for her before. Maybe this wound would kill their relationship and end their marriage—god, if their marriage even existed anymore. Alex was so confused and her eyes peered into his, silently asking the most important question. Do you? Still… love me?

When she said she could ask him the same thing, Cas's expression wavered and his soft, soulful eyes continued to hold hers. He cupped the side of her face and sadly contemplated her eyes, her tear-tracked cheeks, her forlorn expression. Even though he was deeply hurt, she saw tenderness and warmth in his eyes. His thumb stroked across her cheek softly as he leaned down and helplessly captured her lips in a soft, slow, pained kiss that shocked her at first then quickly sent her soaring—he made white-hot sparks scream through her veins and unfurl down low with his softest touch and Alex grasped the side of his neck, craning to deepen the kiss and be closer to him—their mouths opened and Alex made a soft sound of relief, circling her arms around him as closely as she could as he kissed her in a way that replied to her silent question. Yes. Yes I still love you.

And then, just as she was almost brought to tears of relief, he pulled away and left her confused—he looked regretful and befuddled and he shook his head no and stood, pushing her off of his lap to sit in a daze on the bench as he retreated backwards from her. "I, I shouldn't have done that."

Alex was already on her feet, hovering awkwardly, not sure why he said that. Because of Zip? Because of Destroyer? Why? "I mean, aren't we…" she trailed off and didn't finish asking her question. Aren't we together? Aren't we married? She feebly pointed out what tomorrow marked. "Tomorrow's three years to the day for us."

He seemed to realize what he'd forgotten—Cas wasn't good with earthly things like dates, but he must have known today was April 28th because he nodded grimly after a second of surprise. "Yes," he said quietly. "And I called another woman my wife."

But he hadn't known. Alex tried to point out he wasn't the only one who had really fucked up. "And I slept with someone else," she whispered. At this point it would almost feel better if Cas had been with Daphne and had sex with her. It would make what Alex had done less of a sin. And honestly, how the hell had Cas lived and been close to that woman for half a year and not been physical with her? "Did you really never sleep with her?" she asked softly. She was prepared to him to admit that yes, he had.

But he shook his head shallowly. "I never did," he answered honestly, looking at her with those spellbinding blues. "I never wanted her in that way. In fact… she repulsed me to some level." He looked bittersweet. "I think my subconscious knew it wouldn't be right."

Her heart was breaking all over again. "Then why didn't mine?" she asked, her chest tight with emotion and pain and confusion. He said nothing, only looked further saddened. Alex realized they could probably torture themselves with this painful subject all day and that her tears would probably never stop coming if they did. But she was forgetting something very important, and it was time to get to it. She took in a deep breath and let it out fast, trying to overcome her upset feelings. "Look, Cas," she said, forcibly making herself concentrate and not continue wallowing in grief—although this next subject had her really upset and scared, too. "Sam needs help. He's dying. Wherever you and I stand, whatever else you need to work through… we just gotta put it aside and you have to help my brother—" she felt so put on the spot, like everything rested on his answer to this question. "I'm begging you."

Cas nodded, acquiescing however apprehensively. "Of course I'll help Sam," he said quietly, sending relief through her like a tidal wave. "I'll do whatever I can to make it right. As you've said. I owe it to you and your family to try."

He looked afraid, though. And she was too—about where this was going, about how they could ever get out of this tangled mess, about if Sam would survive, about if Cas would stay, about how she could possibly justify that if he did to herself and to her family… and she remembered, nearly three years ago to the day, when he had been falteringly asking her to marry him. She'd resisted, she'd tried to come up with every reason not to take the plunge. And as her excuses grew fewer and fewer, as his requests and reasonings and obvious love of her had become stronger and stronger… Alex had shaken her head and commented that he made it sound so simple. The rest of our lives, he'd said. Together. That is simple. Nothing had turned out to be simple though. And unfortunately, they had to learn the hard way that love did not conquer all. But Alex still hung onto the hope that as long as she and Cas could somehow stand together, they could make it through to the other side.

"We'll all get through this somehow," she said, trying to help them both be less afraid. He looked doubtful and reluctant, but nodded a silent yes. She didn't know if that was to appease her or if he agreed with her words—it looked like the former. An awkward silence stretched out between them and Alex cleared her throat uncertainly. She was expecting him to spirit them back to the car, but he was just standing there with a tense expression on his face. "So can you like zap us back, or…?" she trailed off.

Cas was grudging and self-conscious. "Ordinary I'd say yes but… I…" his eyes dodged hers guiltily, "I find myself hesitant to use my abilities unless there's no other option."

Oh. Alex realized why immediately and it made her sad. She thought it was perhaps a bit of an overreaction, but she didn't say that. He needed space and respect about that and it wasn't too far on foot. "So, walking then," she said quietly, not acknowledging that she knew about his worries and guilt.

But from the way he was looking at her in silent thankful relief, she knew he understood and heard what she didn't say. "Yes. Walking."

So, they walked. In tandem, with Alex leading slightly since she knew the way better after having already walked it—they skirted the park in silence and crossed the road without saying anything. Finally, when they were on the other side of the road, Alex realized she needed to give him a head's up about something so he didn't go all smitey. Although honestly, Alex wouldn't terribly mind seeing Meg dead… sighing heavily, she did the right thing. "Just so you know—Meg's back at the car. Dean found her in the store or something, said she saved his life when he got jumped and apparently she's coming with us."

"What?" Cas looked and sounded just as enthused as Alex was. "…Why?"

"Yeah, I know," Alex muttered—she hadn't forgotten all the shit Meg had pulled on her family throughout the years and didn't know if one life-save made up for any of it. "Dean said she's 'backup.'" Cas was giving Alex a skeptical, confused sidelong look and Alex gave a soft, cynical laugh. "Trust me. The second I get a shot, I'm stabbing her in the spleen. I've had enough of working with demons for a lifetime."

She hadn't even meant to make a jab at him, but when she said that, she realized it sounded like that. She cut a worried glance at Cas, hoping he wouldn't take it that way. But he did. He appeared deep in bitter thought. "I truly did think I could out-manipulate Crowley," he murmured regretfully. "I truly thought I could be the hero. And instead I was the villain." Alex identified with that pain so immediately—she knew what it was like to try and do the right thing and instead make things all the worse. Cas had just done so on a much, much larger scale. Beside her, frowning studiously, Cas was realizing something else and it obviously puzzled him. "How is it Dean hasn't attempted to kill me yet today? He's been surprisingly… civil."

Alex shrugged and pressed her mouth into a wan line. "Time's given him perspective, I guess," she mused neutrally. "Plus he'd be an idiot to try and kill Sam's only lifeline." But Dean did have his moments. The guy was a real moron sometimes. Maybe that was just the sister in her talking, but sometimes she thought Dean was the biggest dumbass in the world. She was already bracing herself for a real hissy fit once they got back to the car, but she hoped Dean would let it all slide and not pick a fight.

Cas was somber. "I don't blame him for being angry with me," he said quietly. "I don't blame him at all."

A car passed by fast, ruffling Alex's hair as she turned to look at Cas. They matched stride without meaning to, and she noticed that even as she contemplated how he looked so strange in the outfit he was in—he looked domesticated and vanilla, sort of preppy. Holy shit he was so beautiful—she found every last thing about him so achingly attractive. Alex wondered if he ever became a human or if he ever decided to change clothes as an angel, what he'd wear. Honestly, he'd look good in anything, but she missed the trench coat. And then without warning, she abruptly pictured him in a plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up his strong forearms. She wondered what kind of woman got hot and bothered at the simple thought of her man wearing plaid. She then imagined herself taking that plaid off of him and she got even more flustered with herself.

Cas caught her looking at him like that and was confused, not catching the meaning behind her gaze.

She cleared her throat and fiddled with the hem of her shirt, then said the first thing that popped into her mind. "I saw one of the birdhouses you made. I liked it." It was a true statement—she'd noticed it next to Daphne's porch. There had been attention to detail and it had been made very thoughtfully and well. A bittersweet, fond smile softened Alex's face as she snuck a sidelong glance. "Who know you were so handy, huh?"

Cas was chagrined—mildly cheered by her compliment, then immediately a little more clouded. "I learned how to do some useful things in my attempts to avoid spending time with Daphne," he explained, going back into deep thought. His shame and self-consciousness over Daphne was audible. "It seems I should have known now, in hindsight. It was obvious, but I didn't see it even once. I knew something was missing." He looked at her sidelong as they walked and she looked back, somber again because he was too. "It was you," he murmured. "And my family." Her chest clenched when he referred to her and the brothers as his family. She remembered when they had first met how he hadn't belonged or been accepted by his heavenly 'family.' What if Sam and Dean never forgave him? Alex wondered what this would come to. If someday she would have to choose between her family and Castiel. If she and Cas could ever work through the issues they had, anyway… she began to wonder if they would ever make love again. She wondered if it would be traumatic because of what happened with Destroyer. However, judging from the two mind-numbingly passionate kisses they'd shared today, she already knew her body wanted his again. But would she get triggered? Would that part of their relationship survive? And god, would Cas want her? She thought maybe he wouldn't. Not after knowing she'd slept with some other person.

"So the past six months…" Cas said hesitantly, startling her out of her thoughts. "You've been hunting like before?"

"Uh… no," Alex said, getting a little nervous about telling him where she'd been. She scratched the back of her neck absently, avoiding his faze. "Just started back, actually. Like a month ago or something."

When she volunteered no more information, Cas hesitated, a slight instance of worry creeping into his voice. "…What were you doing before that?"

She set her jaw, feeling intensely vulnerable. "Feeling sorry for myself," she replied cryptically. When his worried stare didn't stop, she confessed the truth somewhat cynically. "I was in a mental hospital. Full mental break, remember?"

"…For the entire length of time?" Cas asked, obviously aghast that she'd been that badly off and for so long. Before she could answer, he asked more. "Sam and Dean were with you?"

Alex shook her head. "No. They were doing what we're all trying to do right now." She paused, then clarified. "Take care of the Leviathan problem."

He was visibly gutted. "The problem I caused," he said, then looked down and his jaw clenched. "If it's the last thing I do, I'll fix it."

His words had immediate effect. Alex stopped walking and set him with a severe and scared look. "Don't say that," she commanded in a low, trembling voice. Cas had stopped when she did and he realized his choice of words ('if it's the last thing I do') were the wrong ones. He looked rueful but made no apology and said nothing, though. After an emotional couple of seconds, Alex began to walk again, but this time she was extremely upset and walking sort of fast in an attempt to stomp her feelings out of herself. The thought of Cas leaving again was just too much. All of it was too much. She had no idea where the two of them stood or if he still really did love her, Sam was a thousand miles away and if he didn't sleep soon he'd die, Dean was wanting to bring a demon along to the party…

"I didn't mean to upset you," Cas said quietly, just behind her.

"Yeah well you did!" she said, whirling so fast and coming up so short that he almost ran smack into her. They were face to face, inches away from each other, and Alex's anger was giving away to despair. She felt so out of her element and her frantic distress prompted her to broach a subject she had planned to leave for later. "Cas, you gotta change what you did to me," she insisted imperatively, like her life depended on it. And it did.

Cas's eyebrows moved in toward each other. "What do you mean?" he asked uncertainly.

She lost her bravado as she began to feel small, helpless, and scared. "I don't want to live forever," she said, a certain begging quality in her voice. "I'm not supposed to."

Cas looked absolutely shocked, then very worried. "…How did you find out about that?" he questioned, because he obviously put two and two together: she found out when she was supposed to die but didn't.

Alex shook her head no stiffly, refusing to tell him about the suicide attempt. "Doesn't matter. Just fix it, please."

Cas's face showed deep anguish and he found replying difficult. "I—I don't have the power to remove what was done to you, Alex," he said, and her heart sank as he continued on in gloom. "I'm just an angel now. A miserable, sad excuse for one."

She hadn't even thought of that, and her small hope was now crushed. "So I'm stuck being alive, what… forever?" Maybe some people would want to live forever, but not Alex Winchester. Like every good book, like every good story, life had to have an ending, too. To go on forever would be miserable.

Cas was very reluctant at her question. "Well… no, not forever necessarily but…"

Alex waited. "…But what?"

He swallowed and his face was full of heartache. "The alternative… is that I would have to… to kill you using very painful and permanent means." His gaze grew less steady as his voice softened woefully. "And wasn't once enough?" Alex stared at him despondently, understanding his torment now. What a mess. Cas looked near tears again. "I wish none of this had ever happened."

So did she. So did everyone. But wishing wouldn't change anything. Bravely in the face of such vast uncertainty, Alex tried to accept it and take it in stride. "Well, the only thing we can do is work with what we have," she said, figuring she would just deal with it later.

Cas bowed his head. "Meaning try to clean up the mess I made."

Alex was touched by compassion despite it all and reached out, cupping the side of his face to seek his gaze. Empathy made her softer. "I didn't say it like that."

He looked at her and put his hand over hers, his face full of promise and worry. "I'll find a way to fix it, Alex," he vowed. "Somehow. And this time… I won't try to do it all on my own."

---

When Alex and Cas made it back to where the Impala waited, they found Dean in a foul, impatient mood with Meg who was smirking and leaning with her arms crossed against the car. When Dean spotted the approaching couple, his unhappy expression darkened further and he eyed Cas suspiciously. However, he didn't march over to them or become confrontational. He stayed near the car and waited for them to get to him.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said quietly, stopping a few feet off from the other man. Beside the angel, obviously apprehensive about this meeting, Alex watched her brother closely.

Dean was calm. Too calm. "Cas," he greeted neutrally, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at Cas deeply. "So. You remember, huh?"

Cas nodded. "Yes."

"Everything?" Dean prompted softly, chancing a small step closer.

"Everything," Cas confirmed dourly.

Dean considered the angel for a moment, his expression reserved and ominously quiet. Cas waited and looked like someone waiting for final judgment. "Then I think you might understand why I'm about to do what I'm about to do," Dean said, and in a millisecond, all the anger he'd stored up suddenly barreled out of him—Dean grabbed Cas by the front of the sweater and right-hooked him across the jaw as hard as he could, sending the angel falling backwards to the ground even as Alex shouted a protest to stop. Cas apparently allowed the hit and did what he'd never done before—let an attack by a human hurt him. Sprawled on the ground, blood ran out the side of his mouth where he'd been injured and Dean looked mildly surprised at the blood, then he grabbed Cas by the front of the shirt again, doubly angry. "Don't think I've forgiven or forgotten, you hear me?" he demanded.

Cas was contrite, guilty, and fully resigned to whatever fate Dean Winchester would deal him. "I wouldn't ask you to do either, Dean."

"Get off him!" Alex yelled, yanking on Dean's arm hard enough to unbalance her brother.

Dean sent her a sidelong scowl as he snapped his arm out of her grip and pointed a finger at Cas. "We are not square," he thundered. "You are gonna come with us and fix what you did to my brother and then we'll see what I decide to do with you."

Alex glared daggers at her brother, looking ready to throw a punch or two herself. "Dean, stop it! Leave him alone."

A muscle in Dean's jaw ticked as he sent her a cold, warning look. "Really don't need you telling me what to do right now, little sister," he said in a low voice. He got a stormy look from her in response.

"Jerry Spring, eat your heart out," Meg commented slyly through a smirk, watching the scene with what could only be called fond enjoyment.

Alex was helping Cas stand as the angel eyed the demon warily. "I fail to see why you've recruited the likes of her kind to come along with us," he said to Dean, his distaste audible.

The demon winked at him saucily. "Tickled pink to see you too, Clarence," she said in a low, sultry voice.

Dean looked at Cas pointedly. "Well from where I'm sitting, sometimes demons ain't half as bad as the angels are," he said rudely. "Why don't you take that and stick it in your peace pipe and smoke it, huh?" He abruptly grabbed his sister by the arm and began to steer her away. "I gotta talk to you. Alone." When they were about twenty feet off, he stopped his angry marched and whirled, his voice an angry, low growl. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean what am I doing?" she asked, just as pissed as he was. "What are you doing?!"

Back at the car, Cas watched them with a worried expression—blood smeared next to his mouth from where Dean had hit him. "Look, I dunno what you're thinking right now," Dean said in a hurried, angry, commanding voice, "but you cannot get it in your head that you're ever gonna be with him again. Not after what he did to you, to us. We are gonna get him to heal Sam and then I never wanna see him again so don't start getting cozy with your murderer." He made a face at her. "Or did you forget?"

"I forgot nothing," she snapped, bristling at Dean's attitude. "He also brought all of us back, or did you forget that?"

"Like that makes it better!" Dean retorted sourly.

"I mean, it does a little!" she protested—Dean was difficult to reason with when he was riled up, but she still tried. "I know you have a lot of beef with Cas, but I also know he's our friend before anything else, not just my friend but your friend. A friend who made a mistake that—"

"A 'mistake'?" Dean cut her off, appalled. "Oh my god, listen to yourself! He fucked up everything! It's not forgivable!" He stared at her in an indignant, incredulous way. "Are you seriously just gonna let go of everything he did and… and, and what, take him back?"

Alex was flustered and had no answer ready for her very demanding brother. "It's not that simple—" she started, then let her staunch frustration surge out of her. "I don't know what I'm gonna do, Dean!"

Her declaration made him visibly dejected and disappointment set in. Dean stared at her with growing sadness, then rubbed a hand across his face and turned away slightly, seeming to have reached his wit's end. "God I wish you didn't love him."

Sometimes, she wished that too. But she did love him. And Alex tried to remind Dean that he cared about Cas, too. She knew he did. "Remember how you were saying we still 'owed' him just a couple hours ago before we found out he was still alive?" Dean looked immediately caught and slightly guilty. "So at the very least, can you please be civil?" She didn't think that was an impossible thing to ask—treating Cas like a slave or a tool was wrong and Dean knew it. "If you ever cared about him even a little… don't keep beating him up. He knows what he did. He's beating himself up enough."

Dean glared at her, his momentary guilt evaporating. "I'll decide what's enough!" he snapped, hellbent on staying tough and stubborn and angry. "And he is not my friend. Never will be, either." He stalked off, leaving his sister behind and frustrated.

Marching back to the car, Dean made a beeline for Cas, who was hovering near the trunk. He'd been watching the conversation between brother and sister, no doubt worried for her safety or something which was so damn rich now given what he'd done to her. Dean confronted him immediately. "What you did—it didn't have to happen," he said harshly. "Point blank, it was a hundred percent avoidable. Do you get that?" Purgatory, Leviathan, all the shit between the two—all on Cas and all because he'd lied and kept secrets.

Cas looked like he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. He didn't make excuses or try to sidestep it. "Yes."

Dean laid into him, because he wasn't satisfied. "The lying, the hiding… everything that happened with Purgatory, with my family—that's on you. No one else." Dean could have laughed from the sickening irony of what he said next. "I was actually starting to like you and trust you, man. I was getting to the point where I half-approved of you and Alex together, where if you'd come to me and asked me about marrying her, I would have at least thought about it instead of shutting you down sight unseen!" He let that sink in—and Cas looked utterly destroyed. Dean hit him where it hurt. "And then everything came out and I lost all the trust and respect I ever had for you—and buddy lemme tell ya, it ain't ever coming back."

Cas swallowed somberly and he looked stung but he nodded grimly. "I understand. I betrayed you. It's, as you said, unforgivable." So he'd eavesdropped. Dean was pissed all over again. Cas looked into Dean's eyes and there was a pleading there for forgiveness despite everything. "I can never apologize enough or tell you how sorry I am. I had no clue it would end like it did or please believe me I would never have attempted to do it all on my own."

It was crazy how Cas got to Dean and how Dean really did have it in his heart to forgive the guy, at least about some things—this dude had been there for them through thick and thin and done more than Dean could ever repay—but he'd messed up, too. Royally. Stubborn and prideful and unwilling to be betrayed again, Dean shook his head darkly. "This isn't over, Cas," he promised grimly. "You and I are gonna have one hell of a conversation after Sam's back on his feet. But for now I'm just too pissed to think straight and I honestly don't wanna talk to you."

Cas nodded again, accepting the sentence of silent treatment Dean was handing him. "That's fine, Dean," he said lowly, voice rife with disappointment.

Dean looked at him a second longer then got fed up. "Hold on. I got something of yours." He yanked the trunk open, found Cas's stained trench coat, and shoved it at him without ceremony. "Here."

Cas took it slowly, seeming mystified and surprised and even a little touched. "You kept this?"

"She did," Dean corrected stiffly, trying to sound harsh. "I'm tired of it taking up space in my trunk." He pinched his lips in a sour frown. "And you look hella stupid without it on." Without another word, he brushed past a very confused Cas, who frowned after Dean uncertainly.

"Uh… all right."

Nearby, Alex had watched it all and her eyes met Cas's. He hesitated, then put the coat on. She gave him a small smile as her heart warmed and burst.

Cas was back. She was so overwhelmed by that thought that she forgot that the letter she'd written him as a final goodbye was still resting in the pocket of that coat.

---

An Hour Later

The sun was setting golden on the horizon and the Impala's passengers were all silent. In the front, Dean drove with a face of stone and Cas sat in the passenger seat quietly, in deep thought. In the back, Alex sent regularly scheduled dirty looks at Meg. Dean had commanded silence after Meg had gotten on his last nerve ten minutes into the drive. No one had spoken since.

Meg, of course, was the one who eventually broke the silence. "So are we going for world's longest awkward silence or…?" she began, casting around for some support. When all she got were unfriendly glances she pulled a face. "O…kay. One big happy family." About twenty seconds passed and then apparently she just couldn't keep her trap shut. "Is it just me or is now a great time for the good old angel-demon-and-two-hunters walked into a bar joke?"

In unplanned unison, both Dean and Alex told her the same thing: "Shut up, Meg!"

Her eyebrows rose and she grinned slowly, amused. "Ooh, look whose time of the month it is—how'd you two get on the same cycle, anyway?"

"Remind me why she's here again?" Alex asked, cutting a scowl at Dean. "Cas can spot demons just as well as she can."

"Because if we run into a whole bunch of trouble, I need a red shirt," Dean retorted. Apparently, Meg got the Star Trek reference and how Dean basically said she was disposable.

"Hey!" the demon protested, frowning slightly.

Dean didn't apologize. "At least I'm honest."

"Don't forget I saved your life, flyboy," Meg retorted, a hint of danger on her low voice. "I'm trying to be a team player here."

"Why?" Alex demanded, arms crossed.

Meg sent her a flirty smile. "What, don't trust me?" she asked playfully.

"No," Alex replied immediately. "Never, ever, in a million years, ever."

"Tell me how you really feel, cupcake," Meg said, rolling her eyes slightly. "Look, ever since the Lucifer thing, my kind thinks I'm a lying, evil, two-faced traitor. But spoiler alert… I'm a demon! It's kinda in the job description!" She looked around for someone, anyone to be laughing along with her, but no one in the car was team Meg. Exasperated, she pursed her lips. "What I'm trying to say is I'm looking to survive and I don't exactly have too many butt buddies anymore, kay? And I'm just like you: huge hate-on for Crowley. Enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?" She began to study Alex. "Gosh, Ariel, if looks could kill…" she said, sounding positively seductive. Alex rolled her eyes and looked away. There was more silence and Meg brought up the elephant in the room (well, car). "So, trouble in paradise for everyone's favorite power couple?" she asked loftily, that always-present smile playing on her lips. "I mean I'd guess so since the guy was missing in action and apparently married to some other broad… gosh, I can only imagine how good the makeup sex will be… quick question, are you two looking for a third player for this shindig or what?"

"Hey, you got a mute button?" Dean snapped, glancing back at her darkly.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "That joke seems in bad taste, champ," she noted calmly, nodding her head sideways at Alex once.

Dean withered. "Okay, you know what, comedy queen? I'm about to throw you out of the damn car."

Meg looked unimpressed. "Is it naptime?" she asked patronizingly, her voice dripping with sarcasm and false concern. "'Cause someone seems a wittle gwumpy…"

Dean looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. "Shove some salt in it, Meg!"

---

Apparently Dean did need a nap. After more general stupidity and trolling from Meg, Dean got fed up and said he needed a few hours of sleep or he was gonna go nuts, crash the car, and kill everyone. Alex hadn't slept in as long as he hadn't slept and obviously no one else was ever gonna drive Baby so they checked into the first motel they happened upon and Dean promptly fell asleep while Alex tossed and turned. Meg was left outside to skulk around in the darkness and Cas was instructed to 'sit there' and 'don't move'—there being a chair beside the motel room door. Alex kept falling asleep from exhaustion only to wake up every ten minutes in groggy anxiety to check and see that Cas was still there. He was every time—silent and still, nothing but a shadowy silhouette there across the room. Then sometime before midnight, Alex woke up and Cas was gone.

She immediately sat up and whispered his name as a question—she got no reply. The only sound was Dean's familiar wheezing snores. Alarmed, Alex got out of bed and shoved her feet back into shoes. She hadn't taken anything else off, but she did slide her angel blade back into her jacket as she tiptoed across the room and peeked out the window at the parking lot. She didn't see anyone there and her alarm grew. Quiet as a mouse, she snuck out of the room and tried to lay eyes on Cas. He was nowhere to be found.

"Boo," came a soft, low female voice behind her. Alex whirled—Meg chuckled. "Come to join the party?" she wisecracked.

"Where's Cas?" Alex asked aggressively, for a second suspecting Meg might have done something with him.

Crossing her arms and raising her chin as she smiled annoyingly, the demon took her time replying. "Said he's leaving forever and thanks for the memories," Meg replied silkily. At Alex's expression, Meg rolled her eyes. "Relax, I'm kidding. He's over there being emo in the moonlight, where the hell else would he be?" She motioned to a clearing nearby the motel—in it there was a single old tree and Cas stood near it, trench coat and all. Meg smiled at Alex unnervingly. "You're here, aren't you? That's one puppy that'll never leave its owner."

"He's not a puppy you bitch," Alex snapped, then brushed past Meg and headed for Cas.

"I just don't get no respect," Meg commented through a self-satisfied smirk as Alex stalked away.

Silver moonlight illuminated the night landscape and Cas stood there with his back to Alex as he gazed up at the silver orb of light hung low in the sky. He spoke as she reached his side, and his gaze didn't leave the sky. "The moon," he murmured thoughtfully. "It's so bright and full. Peaceful. Content to just exist even as humanity and Heaven and Hell tear each other apart…"

Alex looked at his profile, confused and a little upset from waking up and finding him gone. "What are you doing out here?" she asked slowly. "I thought…"

"You thought I left," he said, finally looking at her. Those intense, soulful eyes seemed older and more burdened than ever. "No. I just… I found this in my pocket." Found what? Alex looked at what he indicated, and then her heart went still. In his hand, the letter she'd written him. It was unfolded. He'd read it.

"Oh—" she said faintly, suddenly finding herself with a racing heart and deep dread. "I forgot that was in there." There were things in there that Cas didn't know. Or hadn't known.

"You tried to kill yourself," he said quietly, and she felt so small and self-conscious. She looked away in distress even as he caught her hand, guessing which one correctly as he pushed her sleeve up slightly. The scar she had from where she'd gashed herself open was there and Cas looked heartbroken by it—his trembling thumb brushed over the scar tissue, then his eyes looked into hers. Why? his gaze asked.

"It was too much pain," she whispered, remembering how defeated she'd been, how ready she'd been to stop feeling. "I felt too alone, too hopeless to know what to do." She shook her head, not sure how to convey it. "Just couldn't take it."

"I'm so sorry," Castiel managed softly, his expression ill. "I'm… I'm guessing this is how you discovered your immortality." Alex nodded yes and Cas swallowed that down with difficulty. "Just so that it's clear… it wasn't myself that did that to you. It was Destroyer. I suppose my mind was so set on you always being safe and alive that it affected his and now…" his thumb again caressed the scar tissue mournfully. "I never would have guessed the way I loved you would become a weapon you were hurt by." He let go of her and they were both quiet for a few seconds. Crickets and frogs chorused in the night air.

What was she supposed to say now? Alex was out of replies. "If we knew then what we knew now, huh?" she asked, pitifully attempting lightheartedness in the very heavy moment. She hesitated. "Would you change it?"

His dark eyes snapped to hers. "I would change everything," he said, breaking her heart all over again. He shook his head briefly, sad and disillusioned. "All I ever wanted to do was protect you."

Her chest felt tight and it burned unpleasantly. "I know," she whispered, turning her face from him slightly to hide her pain.

She heard the paper of her letter rustle in his hand as he moved it slightly. "And the man you slept with," he said quietly. Her heart twisted wretchedly and she shut her eyes, already knowing what he was going to say. "He wasn't even a man." His voice dropped to a mere pained whisper. "Leviathan. Why didn't you tell me that?"

Alex felt so uncomfortable and wished of all people, Cas didn't know this detail. "Because it's so goddamn embarrassing and I feel so… so gross about it. I don't… it makes me feel dirty. And stupid, and used." She stared at the grassy ground near her feet with a stony gaze. "I didn't want you to feel like it was your fault, either," she said soberly, feeling like she couldn't win for losing. "You always think everything is your fault."

"Well." Cas's reply was equally sober. "I am the one who let them into this realm, aren't I?" Alex looked at him dejectedly. Yes, but… she was the one who'd taken her clothes off with one. Cas looked loathe to ask, but he did anyway. "How long did you know him, before… it happened?"

Alex tried to remember even as she thought about how much she hated this subject matter. "Four months? Five months?" Alex could barely speak past the pain clenching her throat. "It… it meant nothing, Cas."

His eyes were full of hurt. "It doesn't mean nothing to me," he replied quietly, and Alex looked down and away, pressing her lips in together so she wouldn't cry. This was the worst part… seeing how much she'd hurt him. Cas sounded worried again. "I don't mean to make you feel ashamed," he said, and it sounded like he had drifted just a little closer.

"Already feel that way," she said stiffly, shrugging. She felt a hot tear spill out of her eye and down onto her cheek. She dashed it away angrily. "I just… I hate that I hurt you and now I can't ever do anything to erase what I did." She forcibly straightened and pushed her shoulders back, tried to face the music, tried to look at him again. "So do you see me as like, I dunno… an adulterer now or something?" What she was most desperate for was to know where they stood and if Cas still considered her to be his wife.

Cas mulled over her words as his eyes fell. He spoke slowly, his tone full of torment. "Imagining you with another man is… indescribably painful for me," he said, and her shoulders lost their posture, slumping and falling as he continued. "I know you thought I was dead…" he said, trying very hard to work through it as he spoke out loud. "And I know I told you to move on, but… seeing that you did… thinking of you in another man's arms… it hurts."

He sounded so vulnerable, so innocent, so confused by his feelings. Alex impulsively moved to gently take him by either arm. "I didn't move on," she choked out, tears blurring her vision. "I never—" she struggled to talk about it even as he struggled to hear it. "The only reason it was any good at all was because I imagined he was you. Cas, I said your name while we—while it was happening. And then I ran away and cried because maybe I knew somewhere deep down inside you were still alive and I had just ruined everything." They were so close physically, but Alex felt a million miles from him. "None of what I just told you makes it right but… just so you know. Not a day went by for me where I didn't feel how gone you were. I never stopped loving you." Her heart beat a sickening rhythm inside of her as she gazed into his wounded eyes and she saw how she had put that pain there. "And now you're here again and I'm… I'm… you'll never want me again."

His voice was husky and sent shivers through her. "That's where you're mistaken," he whispered, reaching up to caress the side of her face tenderly. Her heart was suddenly leaping and turning inside of her with breathless hope. His heartbreak was still there, but so was something else. "I've missed you so very much…" he murmured, making her head spin.

"Cas, I—" she began, then didn't know what to say at all.

He was studying her face with somber affection. "How is it you were ever mine at all?" he asked softly.

Alex's eyebrows moved inward slightly. "You're saying that like I'm not still yours."

Cas's eyes regarded hers with an unreadable intensity. "…Are you?"

"I always have been," she insisted in a tear-choked voice, then kissed him. It was not gentle or timid. It was firm and it was assertive, it was her saying her heart was still in this and that she burned for him. He responded in kind, kissing her back with a deeply distressed and needy hunger, he pulled her against himself fully and the familiar trench coat brushed against her as she was enveloped. Blind to the outside world, Cas stumbled her backwards until her back hit the tree—she whimpered and pushed against him hard, frantic for the fire of his touch and the reassurance it brought—his tongue brushed hers as their bodies tangled together, as one of his warm hands slid up her shirt and grasped her side then curved around and pressed against her back, pulling him harder against himself—she moaned her frustration and pleasure into his mouth even as he groaned softly in the base of his throat. Her hands slid down between their bodies and she reached for his belt buckle. And, incidentally, broke the spell.

Abruptly, Cas stopped and let go of her, left her cold and confused against the rough bark of that tree. "No—" he said, holding a hand out as if she might rush him. "I'm sorry, no. We can't do this, Alex. We can't." He was a little out of breath and his coat was crooked on his shoulders, his expression was mildly alarmed—Alex stared at him in silent gaping confusion. Why the hell not? "It's not that I don't want to—" he stumbled, "I do, very much so, but—we both know where this leads. And all I ever do is endanger you."

Alex shook her head, breathless. "You don't get to give up, Cas, I won't let you," she insisted weakly.

Cas was sober and reserved, becoming more and more resolute in his rejection of her. "I'm not giving up," he said grimly. "Not on fixing what I broke. But as far as you and I are concerned… I…" his grimness faded into angst. "I don't know."

Alex straightened to stand right and waited for him to change his mind. "Come on, Cas," she cajoled pleadingly. "If I can look past what you did, can't you forgive me, too?" Her watch beeped once just then, signaling the midnight hour. She looked at the display and realized what day it was with a quiet, sinking heart. "It's the twenty-ninth." Her eyes rose to his and he looked equally pained as she did. Three years ago to the day. Do you love me now like you loved me then? Or is it all gone?

Castiel drew in a deep, steadying breath. "Go back to the room, Alex," he said quietly, letting his gaze drop away. "I'll be there in a moment."

She was going to argue. "Cas—" and mid-step toward him, she found herself back in the dark motel room and stumbling into a metal bedpost knee-first. She swore softly in the dark, squeezing her eyes shut against the unexpected pain. "Won't use your angel abilities my ass," she muttered. Her eyes slid to Dean, who was still fast asleep, a huge arm hanging over the edge of the bed—his mouth was open, his cheek was squished up because he laid on his stomach with his head turned on the pillow. Her eyes caught the shape of his phone on the bedside table beside him. And Alex, ever the schemer, got an idea.

---

When Cas re-entered the motel room, he found Dean in the dark, checking his weapon, apparently in a hurry. "Yo, I just got a nine-one-one text from um, a hunter friend," Dean said in an intense whisper, shoving his pistol into his back pocket as he grabbed his jacket and shrugged it on. "She's in trouble and it's not far. Al's asleep, and she needs the rest so you stay here and watch her but Cas—I'm warning you. No funny business."

"…No funny business," Cas echoed, not entirely sure what that meant.

Dean was apparently in too much of a hurry to bother with saying anything else—he gave Cas a nod and exited the motel room and wasted no time screeching out of the parking lot loudly. Cas noted that his departure seemed coincidentally timed. Cas looked at Alex, who didn't even have her eyes closed anymore now that Dean was gone—but she was saying nothing. She was waiting on him. For a long moment, the dark room was entirely silent. Finally, Cas spoke. "You're not asleep," he observed quietly.

"No I'm not." When Cas didn't move, she looked a little let down. "Are you gonna stand over there all night?"

Cas's eyes could pick up her curves even with the motel blanket draped over most of her body. "I don't think I should be any closer to you," he said, trying very hard not to look at her.

"Why not?"

Cas was aware of how quiet the room was, how close she was, how warm she would feel in his arms and how much he wanted and missed her. "You know why," he returned regretfully.

She hesitated, then tossed the blankets aside and got out of bed. He was mildly surprised to see that she had nothing but an oversized gray shirt on—white underwear peeked out and he saw a white bra strap on one shoulder where the huge head-hole of the shirt slouched. The shirt must have been one of her brother's, he thought. And it would be so very easy to take off of her…

Alex came to him and embraced him, her head tucked under his chin and turned sideways so her cheek rested against his chest. Her arms were tight around his middle and for a minute, he forgot his physical longings as he held the woman he loved to the point of pain, death, and eternity.

"Do you hate me, Cas?" she asked softly, worry filling her voice.

His eyebrows slammed together. "I could never," he whispered, his arms enveloping her a little more.

Her arms squeezed his middle tighter. "I'm so sorry," she whispered back, and Cas cradled her head with a hand.

"No," he said faintly. "I am. You're innocent of this." She hadn't asked him to lie and sneak around and hide things. She hadn't created the tragic, brutal outcome of all his actions. And as he thought of some Leviathan in the body of a man making love to her as she thought of him and believed him dead and gone forever… Cas could have died from anguish. He held his wife all the tighter, wishing he could undo the tragedy that had befallen them all. His wife. He shut his eyes, wishing he had known three years ago what he knew now.

"No one's innocent," Alex murmured against his chest. "Especially not me." He heard how upset she was, how depressed. "I wasn't good enough for you before, so what am I now?"

Cas drew back and looked at her in vast, pained confusion. "You're worried that you're not good enough?" His eyebrows bent in toward each other slightly. "Do you really still want me?" he asked softly, feeling choked on his own throat. "After everything?"

Her hazel gaze was full of so many soul-deep things. "More than before," she confessed in the softest whisper. Her eyes searched back and forth between his apprehensively. "Does that make me completely fucked up?"

He was just as broken as she was—he needed her even if it was wrong. He had to love her and be loved by her again, he had to show her that his affection still went deeper than any ocean on earth, that his devotion would never belong to anyone but her. That even though he was hurt, nothing could make him turn his back on her. "I want you, too," he whispered thickly, and that confession was the beginning of a wildfire.

Her eyes registered disbelieving relief even as he pulled her into his arms and his mouth found hers in a desperate kiss that very quickly became mindlessly passionate. She made no protest as he picked her up and blindly pinned her to the wall, knocking into an object as he did so. Things on the beside table fell off noisily but neither of them noticed—Alex was putting her legs around his middle tightly even as he pushed against her and threaded a hand through her hair, needing her closer. She was already pushing his trench coat off and then fumbling to try and take off the zip-up sweater—he broke the kiss for a second to yank it off himself over his head, and then he reclaimed her impatient lips with his own again as she ripped his button-down shirt and sent little plastic buttons flying. He yanked his arms out one at a time frantically, and he was left in his slacks and t-shirt. She fisted her hands into his shirt and pulled him close, kissing him with hot and wild abandon as one of his hands slipped under her shirt to feel her skin against his. She gasped at his touch, and he could feel how every inch of skin reacted to his every movement—he let his hand slide up her side and then around her back, then suddenly he was unhappy with how much clothing stood between them and he haphazardly ripped the shirt off of her, leaving her in bra and underwear. She was already shoving his shirt up with both hands and he helped her yank it off himself then he kissed her again and pressed his bare chest to her torso, starved for the feeling of her against himself—she whined and ground her hips against his. A strangled sound came out of his mouth and he grabbed her by the back of the head, grinding his hips against hers in reply as he kissed her with all the passion he held for her.

Alex reached down between their bodies and made quick work of his belt, undoing it with a couple brutal yanks. She ripped his pants in her efforts—the button popped off right before she yanked the zipper down haphazardly. The loosened slacks fell down to his ankles and Cas managed to kicked out of his shoes and toe off his pants even as he held Alex to the wall and kissed her hard, deep, and possessive. Cas turned them and Alex suddenly found her back hitting the bed as Cas stayed with her, body to body, the entire way, his mouth wandering her neck and shoulder as a hand remained on the opposite side of her neck. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open in a relieved gasp as his lips and mouth left warm, wet touches across her skin. Cas closed his eyes, worshiping her body and tasting her skin and ready to bow down and profess devotion beyond devotion to her all over again—his wife, his beloved, his Alex—and suddenly, he was overcome with feelings of inadequacy and fear and he stopped, pulled back slightly, looked down at her apprehensively. Sprawled beneath him, she was the most beautiful thing in all of creation—her chest heaved with breathless arousal, her full lips were parted, her hair was spread around her like a halo.

She looked up at him in something like dread. "Don't stop," she whispered, hands on his bare arms and holding on tight. Like she thought he might disappear if she let go.

"I'm not," he whispered back, overcome at the sight of her, the feel of her—he was laid between her legs and he could feel the heat radiating from her into him through their thin, remaining clothing. "I just… you overwhelm me." He touched the side of her face, and he was overtaken by worry. "Does this not… not traumatize you?" The last time he had been on top of her was when Destroyer had been possessing him.

Alex shook her head, and he believed her answer even before she spoke it aloud. "No. Because this is you."

His heart felt like it burst. Still, he was so afraid to trigger something in her or frighten her. "Tell me if I need to stop," he begged, cupping the side of her face. "Tell me if it's at any point too much."

"I will," she promised, then craned upwards and kissed him on the side of the neck, clutching herself to him. Her mouth left him tantalized and in a haze of increasing pleasure as warmth and wetness traveled his neck to his jaw slowly. When their mouths met again in a deep, desperate kiss, Cas shifted his weight and pressed himself down onto her at the hips, receiving a strangled sound of bliss from her in return. He pulled her close and his hands searched for the bra clasp and he couldn't get it undone fast enough so he did what he knew was much easier: he ripped it. Alex suddenly grinned against his mouth, and his heart tightened and soared at the little laugh she gave—she smiled, too, set free in this moment with her. Oh, how he loved her every facet and part—he caressed the side of her face in silent testament to his adoration even as his other hand pulled her bra off and tossed it away.

He pressed his chest to hers as she arched up into him and his arms circled her to pull her against him fully—she was kissing him deeply, hands raking through his hair and sending tingles and shudders through him again and again. He felt as though they had never been parted at all to be with her like this again. Cas pulled one of his arms out from behind her and slid his hand up to cover one of her breasts and he tightened it after letting the palm run across the sensitive nipple—he didn't understand why that part of her body aroused him so much, but it did—the weight, the swell, the shape, the texture, the way she obviously loved being touched there. She whimpered in response to his touch, then again and louder when he dipped his head down and nudged his nose against her other breast, finding the nipple with his mouth and sucking, tonguing the delicate skin and reducing her into a pleasure-addled mess. Being with her like this was an experience that transcended everything he knew—tasting her, touching her, letting every part of his physical manifestation love and please her. It was Heaven.

Her skin was slightly salty in his mouth and he moaned softly in the base of his throat, grinding his hips down to hers even as she rubbed herself against him, too. Cas began to drag his mouth across her chest to the other side, and her hands both held the back of his head as she arched her body towards his mouth. His thumb rubbed against her nipple before his mouth captured the sensitive pebble he hadn't mouthed yet—Alex inhaled sharply and writhed at his touches, and he could tell she was incredibly aroused by his actions. One of her hands ran down his arm, his defined shoulder and tricep dip, the bicep bulge, then his forearm—she abruptly grabbed his wrist and pulled his palm her her mouth and kissed it long and tender. He looked up at her when she did that, touched and conflicted at how loving the gesture was. She kissed again, all over his palm, and her eyes spoke to his quietly, saying that she loved him. His hand abruptly tensed up as his fingertips reached out to touch the side of her face in the softest, sweetest touch. They were drawn together like magnets and he drifted up and kissed her again deeply, desperately. Their tongues exploring the others' mouths and stroked an inferno to life between them, an inferno that demanded to be sated. Her hand wandered his chest, his taut stomach, lower still, he broke the kiss and moaned softly when she touched him where he ached so hard for her.

Focused on her and not himself, Cas battled her hand aside and stroked two fingers down across the underwear between Alex's legs—she shuddered in response to the light touch. He kissed her neck wetly and sensually—she held his head with both hands and writhed helplessly as his hand slipped down into her underwear. They both let out soft sounds when he touched her skin to skin where she was so wet and wanting—he circled his fingers gently over her, caressing her carefully and intimately, drawing choked gasps of utterly tormented bliss from her mouth. He panted against her collarbone as the feeling of her against his fingers and the sounds she was making drove him to insanity of his own. Unable to be patient or go slow, Cas's hand shifted downward and he pushed two fingers deep into her—immediately, her hips tilted up to welcome the action and a wretched, aroused sound broke from his lips even as she gave a similar sound of tormented bliss. She felt so amazing, she was obviously beyond ready for him and if he hadn't before he did now: he needed to be inside of her—he drew his head back and looked at her in the eye and saw that she was as desperate as he was—even as he moved his fingers in and out of her in the way he knew she loved, she was pushing at his boxers until they were mid-thigh and pulling on his ass, whining in the bottom of her throat at what his fingers did. One of her hands fisted tight around him and he groaned a response.

"Are you—" he started, barely able to think or use the English language. He just wanted her consent but words seemed too clunky for him even to remember how to form the most basic sentence. "Do you want—"

"Yes holy fuck," she gasped out, understanding what he was asking. To hear how badly she needed him gave him a burst of absolute insatiable need. Cas abruptly pulled his fingers out and ripped her underwear off sideways as he kissed her mouth hard. He shifted himself and seized her body to his then took her as his own in one smooth, deep stroke—her indescribably wet heat enveloped him and rendered him absolutely useless. Alex arched upward and her fingers dug into his back as he completed her body with his. "Ah!" She gave a rasping cry against his groaning mouth as he got as close and as deep as he could get to her. Their hot breaths mingled between their open mouths, their eyes opened and met as their bodies stilled.

He couldn't move for a long moment—and as intensely as he'd needed to take her before, now he just wanted this to last. He felt her pulsing faintly with desire around him, but her eyes were becoming guilty and worried and tearful—he recognized that insecurity and fear in her eyes. Cas shook his head, grasped her tenderly by the side of the face and he spoke to her self-doubt and her obvious guilt over the other man. Her eyes shined up at him. "I love you, Alex Winchester—I love you." And that was it. His voice broke the second time he said it and then he bent and kissed her before she could reply to him, his hand went to the back of her head, fingers tangling into hair. He made her whimper and cry out as he began to move in her slowly, deeply, soulfully, intensely. He stroked a fire to life in them both that hadn't existed in what felt like a lifetime—pleasure made his body grow tense and anxious and he could feel how hers was the same.

She felt amazing to him, beyond incredible—every small movement he made inside of her garnered a whimper, an impassioned inhale, a soft sound—the way she depended on him and reacted to him was indescribable and intoxicating. They moved together deeply and continuously, and Alex rolled them over a moment into the encounter, laying on top of him with her legs folded on either side of his hips—he was so deep inside of her in that position. His hands wandered her back, her ass, her legs as she moved on him and they kissed without ceasing—languidly, sensually, breathily. His breaths came shallow and fast as she captivated him so deeply. He would grab and pull on her gently, taking the movements deeper here and there, relishing the feeling of her skin against his. His eyes fluttered open between deep, slow kisses to drift over her face. Sometimes, she was looking at him too. Castiel was overcome at how he had almost lost her so many times over and how truly he loved and adored her—he would give anything for her, anything.

As the euphoria and pleasure grew, Cas's arms tightened more and more around her and he grew intensely dissatisfied, needing deeper, harder, faster—and he seized her and flipped them over, putting himself over her again and showing her the extent of his passion with how he moved. Beneath him, Alex was crying out her response to his deep, desperate thrusts and clinging to his body with hers, wordlessly begging him not to stop. They were consumed with each other past the physical and all they could do in the moment was show each other that fact with bodies and mouths. As their passion became more and more frantic and the pace they forged became harder and faster, they could no longer kiss well at all so they stopped trying.

His hot, sharp breaths hit the side of her face, the crook of her neck, the top of her shoulder, his quiet little moans and shallow pants were sending shivers and shudders through her as his intense pace made her veins crumble. She whispered his name tearfully, and she seemed afraid this wasn't real—he realized she was crying and so he he kissed her hard and then let out a shuddering breath against her mouth as he began to cry too—it surprised him—but seeing her like that added to his emotions, his guilt and grief, his love for her, the thoughts of what he had done to her and what had happened to her when he was gone… it caused him such intense feelings that flooded out of him as tears. His movements slowed and hers did too—Alex's fingers grazed his cheek, touching the tears there. "Shh," she soothed intensely, her hand clenching into the back of his hair tightly. He didn't know how to accept the fierceness and loyalty she loved him with, he didn't understand how she could let him this close again.

"Alex…" he trembled against her, his voice faint and shaking. "I…" an inaudible sound followed and he held her tighter, buried his face in her shoulder and gave a helpless moan of tormented pleasure as she tightened her legs around his middle, helping him deeper. He dipped his head low and again lavished her breasts in wet, hot affection from his mouth as he gathered her to himself more fully and tried to silently say he was sorry, that he treasured her beyond words, that he would give her anything that was within his power to give. She let out a hiss of pleasure at the way he sucked delicate skin in between his teeth hungrily and one of her hands tightened almost painfully in his hair—strange how pain could feel like pleasure in that moment. Castiel kissed her mouth again hard and shifted his hips forward, finding new depths inside of her and causing her to arch beneath him as she gasped her approval. Even as raw emotion made his chest ache and eyes flood, Cas let his conviction pilot him and he began to make love to her hard and desperate, his senses intuitively telling him she wanted it like that.

The bed was creaking loudly and rocking under them, Alex was whining and panting and sounding more and more flustered. Cas was beginning to feel he was reaching the limit of exertion, like he couldn't continue much longer. Angel or not, some things were beyond his control. He gave a desperate sound as his forehead bowed to her chest—he was trying so hard to hang on for her sake. He heard the way she was getting more and more breathless, noisier and noisier as the tension built and rocketed her toward the inevitable precipice.

"Heaven help me," he whispered at the blinding, intense, terrifyingly pleasureful feelings that were gathering below his stomach, "Alex—uh—"

"I love you, Cas, I love you," she whispered urgently, and he gave a soft cry and moved harder and faster, held her tighter. She suddenly clutched him hard. "Oh," she gasped in rising distress, her open mouth against the top of his head as it began. "Oh, Cas, ah!"

He felt her body beginning to seize and contract around him and he gave one final desperate, relieved sound as her release triggered his own—his vision exploded as he cried out into the side of her neck and held onto her for life itself, thrusting himself in over and over in the final efforts to give her everything he had left. She sounded like she was crying from pain, he sounded like he was dying to himself—but he knew they were both experiencing the same thing: blindingly euphoric ecstasy. They moved together in deep, slowing ways to draw out the pleasure to its absolute end. Alex went limp first, collapsing downward a few seconds before Cas did, and she was trembling, she had tears on her face. Stunned by the echoing feelings of bliss, Cas held himself over her as he panted and pushed into her one last, lingering time—and spent, he drew closer and he held her tightly, refused to let go as they recovered together. His body, his mind, his everything was bound to her eternally and inescapably and he was overcome by what she did to him, what she made him feel. Her heart beat strong and fast against his chest and he thought of how he had blotted that very heart from existence and then in his efforts to bring her back, he'd brought a new reign of destruction with him. Oh, how it hurt to know the woman in his arms was who he should be furthest from. "I shouldn't be with you," he whispered despairingly, wishing he could make her understand or take away the damage that had been done. "I shouldn't. Don't you understand that?"

Underneath him, her arms around him—one gripping a shoulder, the other slipped down around his waist, Alex met his gaze with a quietly dismayed demeanor. "I understand a lot of things," she whispered back. "I… I know we shouldn't be together… but I don't understand it."

"I want you so much," he confessed even though he thought she probably knew that already. "But we… we can't do this. It's too—I'm so afraid to hurt you again." He touched two fingers to the tears staining her left cheek and his chest ached. "Perhaps I already have."

Alex looked like she was beginning to accept defeat. "I love you," she whispered, a protest against what he was saying.

Cas's expression broke. He would give anything in all of creation to undo what he'd done. "And I love you, but… Alex… this is cursed. What's between us is cursed." He thought of how he'd broken everything he had ever touched, how he had make fatal mistake after fatal mistake. "I'm cursed. Love can't change that. No matter how much of it there is."

Alex's shining eyes flickered back and forth between his. "Y-you've decided that before you've given it a chance."

Castiel recognized that she was getting very upset. But he didn't know what else to say or how this could ever work or even, quite honestly, how she could love him after he'd done the unthinkable. He despised himself—why didn't she? "After what happened… I don't know how to live with myself," he said, attempting to explain himself. "I can't… it's… you deserve and need better than me." And yet he felt absolutely opposed to the idea of her ever being with anyone else.

Alex shook her head and set her face stubbornly through a pained expression. "Just shut up," she whispered, pulling him close and burying her face against his skin. "Shut up and hold me."

So he did. They stayed in each other's arms for five minutes in silence, holding each other close in the dark. Perhaps fighting fate and the inevitable, perhaps trying to prolong a moment that had quite honestly been stolen. And then Alex's phone dinged, startling the lovers out of their cocoon. Cas glimpsed the screen as she checked the display.

D. at 12:34am
fuckin BUSTED….. u got 10 min b4 im back. i swear 2 god alex u both better have clothes on when i get there

Alex let out an unhappy sigh and rolled her eyes, tossing the phone down onto the bedside table. "Dean's on the way back," she muttered, sitting up and looking around at all of her destroyed, ripped clothes littering the area.

"I noticed that he was called away at an oddly fortuitous time…" Cas said, curiosity coloring his tone as he pulled his boxers back on, taking her unspoken cue that it was time to dress.

Alex shrugged morosely, not moving from where she sat. "Yeah, well… old trick."

"I thought that might have been you," Cas said almost admiringly.

She was pulling a sheet against herself as she sat at the edge of the bed with her bare back facing him. "I don't want this to end," she said, her mind clearly on things other than her cleverness about tricking Dean away. "I just want you."

Cas grew somber where he sat on the other side of the bed. This was difficult for him, and he didn't know how to explain his conflicted feelings on the matter. "I can't let you have me. I'm… I'm not a real person," he said. She looked insulted at that comment and Cas fought to explain himself. "Alex, as long as I am alive, I'll be in your life, but I just… it can't be what it was between us."

Unbearable hurt showed on her face. "What does that mean?" she asked, growing confused and pained. "You promised. You vowed. Now you're just… backing out?"

Cas floundered verbally. "It's… I wouldn't phrase it that way, but…" he tried to think of a way to explain it to her. He took his vows seriously and he knew he would never be able to bow out of her life completely unless it was beyond his control. But, he was frightened that his love of her would burn her again, that his inability to handle strong emotions and feelings would lead to something like what had happened with the soul touch. "After I heal Sam I…" he trailed off, hesitant and thinking out loud. He wanted to give her what she needed in any small way, he wanted to assure her that he wouldn't be gone entirely. "I'll always watch over you, but… I think besides conjugal visits and help on cases, I should remove myself from your life."

Alex honed in on one thing he said and one thing only. "Conjugal visits?" she repeated incredulously, quickly getting angry. "Wh—are you saying we be… friends with benefits? Are you kidding me?" She stood up, clutching the sheet to herself and looking at him in sheer, unadulterated disbelief. "Is that what you think of me?! That you can just fuck me now and then and I'll be fine? That all I want from you is your body?!"

Cas felt like he had made a very serious mistake and he tried to regain his footing. "Well, no, but…"

Alex looked absolutely enraged and hurt. "Cas! I wanted to have sex with you tonight because I love you and missed you and wanted to feel close to you, because I wanted to be with you—not because I'm some raging sexually frustrated bitch who can't control my hormones or something!"

Cas was taken aback. "I didn't say you were a raging—"

Her eyes were glinting with furious tears and she cut him off again. "And now you're telling me you're going to just forget everything we promised each other—you're gonna just pretend three years ago to the day didn't happen? You're just gonna walk away because you're scared and because bad stuff happened!? How is that fair to me?! Where the hell do you even get off—I don't even know what to—oh my god, holy shit—" she was stumbling around verbally, highly agitated. "I just—I've been alone all these months and mourning your death and now you're suddenly here again and you have sex with me and for a minute I think somehow we're gonna work through all the shit that happened to us then you go and say it can only be physical between us? That you can't be with me?" Her face twisted as her voice rose. "You're lying, you have to be lying, I can't accept this—didn't you read that fucking letter?! You are my life!"

"Well I shouldn't be!"

His nearly-shouted answer made the room go silent and still. Alex stared at him with huge, hurt eyes. Regretting his outburst, Castiel stood up and rounded the bed, approaching her pleadingly—he was upset just as she was, he was just as confused and hurt and unsure of how to handle what he'd been dealt. "Please, just try to understand—I am terrified of hurting you. I don't know how to do this, no one ever prepared me for everything that's happened—I don't know what to do!"

She said nothing in return to his desperate statement—her chin was set, her eyes were glassy with tears, and hurt permeated every last detail of her face. Castiel was suddenly certain he'd broken the most important thing: her heart. "Alex…" he appealed gently, taking a step toward her.

She stepped back and stared at him hard through a stung expression. She shook her head no, and what was so much worse than her previous anger was the pain in her eyes. "I wish I'd never met you," she whispered, crashing his world all over again. Her eyes held betrayal, bitterness, and intense pain as tears gathered there, but she visibly struggled not to reveal her feelings to him. "Love shouldn't hurt this much."

She backed up and sat down on the edge of the other bed, arms wrapped around her sheet-clad body. Castiel stood away from her and the sound of silence filled his ears as he realized, yet again, he'd hurt her beyond compare. She wouldn't look at him, and he did not blame her.