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.

120. Hallelujah

Song Remains the Same

Chapter 120 / Hallelujah

"You're my true north. No compass would point me in any other direction but to you."
- Kristen Hope Mazzola

---

It was sometime in the dead of the night and Alex was wide awake, finding sleep impossible yet again. So instead of laying there and staring at the ceiling as she'd done for an hour or more already, she sat up, switched the light back on, and then sat on the floor to look through the small box of photos Sam had brought her to 'look at and see if they helped.'

She had been out of Heaven for something over twenty-four hours now. No sign of Castiel yet and no twinge of recollection on her part either. But that wasn't stopping Alex from trying to figure herself out. There weren't many photos in the box she was sorting through and some were water-damaged and wrinkled… but Sam said this was about all of the family photos they had in existence. None of them were portraits or studio pictures... not a single one. Alex looked at the snapshots again and again, studying the man who looked like a more thickly-built, darker-haired Dean in a lot of the pictures. That was her father, apparently. And he looked pretty rough in all of the photos. Like a man who lived by the bottle, never slept much, and was incredibly miserable with where he'd ended up in life. He always looked guarded and slightly sour or pained in pictures where he was looking into the camera, like he didn't want his picture taken. He was only smiling with teeth in one picture, and it was one of himself hugging his young wife in front of a house. Alex studied those two people and didn't recognize them in the least. But she still felt sad.

There was only one picture in that box where her father was shown with all three of his children and it was an odd family photo. They were in front of the Impala and John stood with his hands in the pockets of his jacket—he didn't touch his kids or even stand with body language that suggested he was comfortable with them. He was unshaven and his dull eyes were rimmed with dark circles. His teen son Dean stood adjacent to his father with his arms draped over pre-teen Sam and Alex's shoulders. Sam was smiling for the camera but it was obviously a forced expression—his body language looked stiff. Alex looked sort of smug and up to no good with the slightest defiant smirk at the edge of her mouth but she had an arm casually hung over Dean's shoulder. And Dean grinned widely, pulling his siblings into his sides tightly. Some kind of amulet thing hung around his neck. He looked genuinely happy. He was the only one.

Times had changed, Alex guessed. Dean didn't seem to be happy anymore. None of them seemed to be happy people. Was I happy…? Probably not. Am I maybe better off not remembering everything? The more she found out about the life she had supposedly come from, the more she wondered why anyone would stay in it willingly.

Alex stopped looking at the pictures after awhile and looked around, aware of a certain hollowness and loneliness that echoed quietly in her bones. The bunker had a constant low whir of electricity that was sort of comforting so she focused on that and listened to it for a few minutes, then glanced around the room again.

After she had made abysmal soup for Sam a few hours ago, she'd said goodnight and wandered back to this room, her room, deciding she needed a shower and some rest to get her mind right. She took her time underneath the hot water, examining the skin of her legs and the shape of her hips and the spaces between her toes. Discovering who she was, or trying to anyway. She examined the penny necklace she wore yet again—she'd found it yesterday and wondered at its significance especially when Dean had made a point of asking her if she remembered why she wore it. The short answer was nope. But for whatever reason, she kept it on. After the shower, she wrung out and combed her very long hair then put on underwear and an oversized t-shirt she found in the duffel bag of stuff Sam had shown her. Her old things, apparently. The shirt she donned was big enough to almost be a dress except it was too short to wear in public. If she lifted her arms up, underwear showed. But since she was locked in her room alone, it didn't matter.

After dressing, she drifted around the little room and examined it at length. It was small and surprisingly cozy for being a rectangular, architecturally barren room in a cold-looking bunker. The walls were a steely gray and the ceiling wasn't very high, but the room felt warm and homey because whoever had resided there before had added a lot of personal touches. Two vibrant Mexican blankets hung as decoration on two of the walls. A skylight that tunneled up through a story or two of building showed a small circle of starlight. The built-in bookshelf at the far end of the room was shoved full of lots of different hardbacks of varying sizes, bindings, and thicknesses. A furry round rug laid bedside and some beautiful black and white 8x10 prints of landscapes and skylines in frames dotted the wall above the generously-sized bed. Fluffy blankets and plump pillows suggested whoever had been here before liked their sweet sleep quite well. A small writing desk sat near the doorway and a typewriter rested on the small surface, a chair was pulled up to that desk with a knit throw blanket over it. In the closet there were a few suits that looked like they had belonged to someone the size of a teenage boy and of all things, a walking cane with a nice surprise—it had a button that sent a sharp spike stabbing out of the walking end. So basically a deadly weapon for an old man…?

Alex wondered about whoever had lived here before. Not just in this room, but in this place. It was huge and had lots of bedrooms and a multi-person bathroom you might find at a college dorm. Not to mention the huge ornate library and the basement levels and training rooms and the command-center area. Over his soup, Sam had explained a little about the bunker and 'The Men of Letters' to a very stumped but intrigued Alex. From what she could gather, they were some kind of group of scholarly genius dudes with insights and expert knowledge of the paranormal had once lived and worked in this place, carrying forth some kind of epic legacy. And now she was here. A pretty clueless girl who knew next to nothing about herself or the life she had led before. Downgrade for sure. Sorry, room. You probably liked the guy who lived here before better.

Alex went through all the clothes and items that were in her duffel bag and looked at them thoroughly, hunting for clues about her past. But none of the shirts, shoes, and mismatched socks held any answers. She found a silver whistle on a chain, a trashy looking Harlequin romance novel, and a flask with the boldface initials A.E.W. carved into it among other things but nothing struck a chord. After perusing the room and looking in every drawer and on every shelf out of curiosity, Alex had tried to lay down and sleep. And that brought her up to now: Awake and restless and sort of frustrated.

Currently done with looking at the old family photographs, she set the box aside, sighed gustily, and then noticed the journal where it had been set on her bedside table. Hmm. 'Dad's journal.' It had been lent to her under strict instructions to not let anything happen to it. The idea was maybe the entries and things inside would prompt her to remember. Dean had tried to forcibly make her read it earlier but now, in the privacy of her own space, she thought maybe she could have a different experience. So, with a well, here goes nothing attitude Alex picked the weighty volume up and carried it over to the bed and she read it, starting at the beginning. She was quickly caught up in the overtly depressed and pained personal entries, intrigued in the worst of ways and suddenly wondering how this man, her father, had died. Assuming it was something to do with the dangerous life this family lived, she read on and on, a feeling of dread and sorrow deep in her stomach. She sat on the edge of her bed, feet propped onto the elevated bed-frame as the old leather-bound volume perched on her knees. She absently alternated between chewing her thumbnail and rubbing the ends of her hair as her eyes scanned over John Winchester's strong handwriting and grim entries.

At no particular time and with no warning, in the dead of night there came a soft sound sort of like fluttering fabric in the wind. Huh, that's weird. Alex looked behind herself and over her shoulder fleetingly, expecting to see some paper fallen to the floor or something. So when she saw a person standing there and staring at her, she gasped and stood in a whirl, clutching the journal to herself. "Hey!" she protested, startled and embarrassed and frozen in place… and also very aware of how scantily dressed she was.

It was him and she almost dropped the journal altogether because all of her muscles suddenly liquefied into useless jelly—even her mouth dropped open slackly, betraying her shock. It was the angel in the trench coat, the one she had been restlessly thinking of without stopping. Castiel.

"Hello, Alex," he greeted carefully and quietly.

She swallowed through a suddenly thick throat, unprepared for the moment she had been impatiently hoping for. In Heaven, she'd been in some kind of trance and barely aware of anything. She remembered Naomi best, actually. Of Castiel, she remembered a blur of vivid blue eyes, tan trench coat, black wings, and his panic to get to her but it was all indistinct and garbled… however, afterward, she'd sort of seen him when he rescued her but it had been dark in that crypt and she'd been wild-minded and sort of out of it, not really giving herself enough time to really look at or see anything. So seeing him now that she was calm and centered and in a room that was warmly lit by the glow of a bedside lamp... she was shocked at how beautiful she immediately found him to be. He was tall and solid with dark tousled hair and an unforgettable, handsome face—soft looking lips, broad nose, a fierce brow and deep character to the strong features of his countenance—and those blue eyes. They looked at her so intently and deeply. His expression was hard to read—concerned, maybe?—but standing there in just underwear and an oversized shirt with a very strange and beautiful man close by, Alex was flustered and defensive because he made her feel so… something.

"What, so you just pop in anytime you feel like it?" she asked breathlessly, hoping so hard that the shirt she wore was… covering everything.

Maybe her worries were in vain. He wasn't looking at her body or being inappropriate at all. His eyes merely crimped up in confusion as his brows tensed toward each other. Clearly, he was struggling to understand what her question's purpose was. "Would you… like me to go back out and knock at the door?" he finally asked very slowly. His voice was incredibly deep and husky, unnervingly so.

Underneath his close gaze, Alex fidgeted and loosened her lock-like grip on the journal. She felt totally exposed no matter how she stood or what she did with her hands. Trying to look at him but finding doing so for longer than half a second to be difficult, she cleared her throat vaguely, finding self-confidence a million miles from her grasp. "Um. Castiel, right?" she asked, wanting to make sure she had it right before going any further.

He hesitated. "Yes, but…" his face twitched into something like faint hurt. "You… usually call me Cas."

His tone suggested that the nickname was important to him but Alex couldn't understand why. And she was more worried about other stuff. "What are you doing in my room?" She was the picture of embarrassed and trying not to be. "I mean, I could have been naked or something."

Cas was mildly perplexed. "It wouldn't have bothered me," he said earnestly, missing her point completely.

Alex was taken aback quite a bit because she hadn't anticipated that as an answer. "Uh…"

However, Castiel wasn't as stuck on the subject as she was. In fact, he barely seemed to realize she was indecent at all. He came a little closer, rounding the bed cautiously with an expression tight in concern as he looked around her face relentlessly. The closer he got, the tighter Alex's lungs constricted. "Are you… doing all right?" he asked, his face showing clear signs of regret and guilt. He radiated a tender quality, a steadfast and trustworthy energy with every word he spoke. And it intimidated her like hell. "I'm sorry I had to leave so quickly but Naomi was in pursuit. I've lost her, for now. And I came to you as quickly as I could."

He said those things with such depth of emotion—the kind she didn't completely understand. Alex felt distinctly like a small flower standing alone out underneath the blazing, beautiful sun. Curious and alive from the warmth, but also a little afraid to get burned. Castiel had an undeniably gentle nature about him and maybe that made her feel brave enough to mumble it out loud. "I was… I was actually starting to worry maybe she got you or something." Naomi.

Of all things, a briefly confused and touched look came onto Castiel's face, then the smallest smile. "I'm fine," he said softly, and the way his deep voice rumbled and the way he looked at her made Alex hot at the neck and ears. His gaze made her feel bare and self-conscious so much so that she abruptly smacked the journal she'd been holding down onto the bedside table in favor of pulling her shirt down as far as it would go—which was only the upper thigh. Maybe she shouldn't have done that. Castiel's eyes followed her hands and his gaze rested on her thighs briefly. Becoming mildly flustered himself, he cleared his throat and looked away, forcing a studious frown onto his face. "I uh, I just spoke with your brother," he said, trying not to look at her.

'Your brother'? That wasn't specific enough. Alex crossed her arms awkwardly over herself, giving up mostly. "The tall one or the pissy one?"

"Dean. Who is, I agree… the 'pissy' one." Castiel let his eyes dart to hers briefly. "I woke him up in the middle of sleeping just now, so he was rather perturbed. He said you haven't remembered anything."

Alex sobered a good bit and she forgot about her self-consciousness in favor of a much bigger problem. "No. I haven't." Her hesitant eyes raised to look into his in a series of fleeting, unsure glances. Her hands were knotted in front of herself. "Is… is that why you're here? Can you fix me? Like you fixed my voice?"

Castiel's face showed severe regret and he looked at her very lengthily in deep concern. He took in a deep breath before letting it out grudgingly. "I'm afraid not. Naomi did something to you I'm not sure how to undo without potentially breaking your mind, which obviously, I won't risk. I think—and hope—that in time you'll remember." He paused and then acknowledged another possibility. "Or perhaps something will jog your memory, to use the colloquial."

Alex was plunged into a morose state. "Yeah or maybe I'll never remember." She gestured loosely at the box of photos that was on the floor nearby and depression settled around her shoulders. "Dean spent like all day showing me crap. Stuff I've been around my whole life supposedly. It didn't work. I feel like I've never seen any of this stuff before in my life."

Cas looked at the photographs in tandem with her for a long moment before he looked back at her intently. "Do you have any memories at all from before Naomi had you? Even the smallest thing could be significant."

Alex fiddled with a piece of lint on the hem of her shirt. "Well… there's one thing but I don't think it's important." Also, she didn't really wanna say.

Castiel looked extremely interested. "What is it?"

Alex shook her head faintly. "Like… a one second memory," she said, not sure why it felt like privileged information she was about to divulge. She looked into his eyes again, tentative about saying. But again, he felt safe to her somehow. Trustworthy, despite her guard. So she told him her one, brief, single memory that hadn't been from her time with Naomi: "Sparks falling down like rain. I remember them so, so clearly. And a feeling of... I dunno. It's indescribable." Wonder? Awe? Love? She shrugged one shoulder up self-consciously. "I don't know what it means." The thunderstruck look on his face made her go still. "What?" she asked, voice dropping to a worried whisper.

He shook his head slightly, his voice soft and cautious. "I may be wrong but I… I think that may have been the first time you saw me."

Alex's face lost expression. The first time I saw you? Something felt incredibly intimate and meaningful about his answer—the way he said it, the look on his face, and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. Her only remaining memory was about him? That made her wonder about everything. How he had become her guardian, when she had learned about him, what it had been like the first time they met, what kinds of things he had done to save her in the past. Had he been her guardian her entire life? Had he always looked at her with eyes like that? Had she tried not to but fallen in love with him anyway? Because, even right now, she felt like she could. Or was. Or would. And because of that, Alex had no idea how to respond except to fumble out a very stuttery, "O-oh." She tried to find something to say, some way of filling in the silence. She ended up asking a semi-stupid question. "There… there were sparks when we met?" She almost laughed because right after she said it, she realized that it sounded a different way than what she meant.

He answered her in a way that made the urge to laugh fizzle out immediately. "Yes. There were sparks." His eyes were almost unbearably blue and she swore she could see into his fucking soul itself. Did angels have souls?

Alex's mouth was becoming dryer and dryer and her pulse was picking up. "Huh," she managed to comment weakly, wondering very hard how she felt about him before she lost her memories. "That's… interesting." His gaze, open and intense and burning into hers, was making it very, very hard to form a coherent thought. Why is he looking at me like that? Alex was starting to become physically shaken from the unspoken, mounting tension in the room. She scrambled for something to say so she wasn't just standing there in ear-destroying silence. "Do… do a lot of people have guardian angels?" she asked, hearing how her voice cracked nervously.

He was impossible to deter and still stared at her with that devastating, smoldering gaze. "No. Not many at all." Even though he answered her question, he seemed to be thinking about something else and was just drinking her in. There was an unmistakable quality of yearning and pain and desire to his eyes.

She shrank a little more, found her breathing shallower and shallower. "But I do?"

His answer was one soft word that intrigued her even further. "Yes."

"A-and it's you?" she asked, voice growing weaker and weaker.

His arctic eyes blazed. "Me."

Alex's voice was a mere whisper and her eyes could not escape his. "…Why?"

His expression became mildly regretful. "I don't know." He looked like he felt how she did about that: frustrated not to know the answer.

And it was then that Alex realized he'd drifted closer to her. Or maybe that she had drifted closer to him. But he was close enough to reach out and touch, if she had been so inclined. That's when she realized that she sort of was inclined to touch him, without knowing completely why. He looked like he wanted to touch her, too. And she was afraid of what was happening. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?" she asked, voice barely a whisper and eyes clinging to his helplessly.

He spoke in a whisper too as his eyebrows furrowed. "Like what?"

"Like…" like his heart was breaking. Like he didn't know how to see anything else but her. Like he was completely in love with her. Like he wanted every part of her that existed. She was flustered and thought she must be insane. "Like that."

Although she wasn't good at describing it, Castiel got the gist: he was making her uncomfortable. He backed off and looked down. "I'm sorry. This is… difficult for me," he admitted, and he sounded so honest and so confused that she immediately believed him and hung onto his every word as he tried to explain and his eyes dodged hers. "For months now I've thought you were gone. Dead. As did your brothers. Whenever I didn't have an open connection to Naomi, I didn't remember you were alive." His jaw clenched and he looked so wounded by whatever had happened to him. "I mourned you. Deeply. So it's… beyond my skills of description to tell you what it's like to see you standing here alive and well again." He tried to offer her a small smile, but it was pained. Alex remained silent, wondering about him and her and what they had been. She really really felt like something had been going on between them because the way he looked at her and spoke to her alone was so familiar and longing. It terrified and captivated her at the same time. Castiel was the one who shied away from the more intense subject that time, abruptly and jarringly switching tracks. "Other than the memory loss, are… are you all right?" he asked. "Do you… remember your time in Heaven at all?"

The mention of Heaven soured her immediately and made her feel darker all over. Shouldn't Heaven be a good place? "Sort of…" she admitted quietly, slowly sinking down to sit on the bed as the memories settled over her like heavy gravity. She pulled absently at her shirt hem, trying to be modest but not really succeeding. "It was like I was drugged, I guess. Some things ran together and time didn't feel normal up there." She paused, remembering and looking off into blank space. It was kind of shameful—she felt like she had done something wrong to have deserved what happened. "And there was the darkness. Whenever one of them wasn't with me… everything just went black and it felt like total emptiness." Punishment for something or some kind of mental torture, she assumed. Which made her sadder and more angry. Naomi's hateful gaze filled her mind. "I remember that woman Naomi," she continued, swallowing hard because the disdain and coldness in that woman's eyes felt so undeserved. Alex looked down at her hands resting there between her closely-touching thighs. "She… it was like I was nothing to her. She kept hurting me and I didn't even do anything to her." Alex was abruptly thunderstruck by the possibility that wait… maybe she had done something to Naomi to deserve that. She looked up at Castiel in mild alarm. "Did I?"

He stood nearby as she sat and his face was a mask of pain on her behalf. "No," he said compassionately. "You did nothing to deserve what she did." He paused, glanced around, then inexplicably went and picked up the throw blanket that was across the back of the writing desk chair. He carried it over, sat beside her, and continued to speak as he thoughtfully placed the blanket over her lap and legs like it was second nature to attend to her unspoken needs. He focused on smoothing the fabric down in a chaste, innocent way and Alex stayed stock-still. She stared at the side of his face, an amazed and deeply-touched feeling coming to life as he covered her naked legs like that and spoke about Naomi. "She did those things to you in order to manipulate me," he said heavily. "So, as the logic goes… all of what happened to you was my fault." He finished with the blanket and looked at her with sad eyes.

Alex felt a warm and strong pull in the vicinity of her chest as she looked at the angel in the trench coat who sat so near to her. "Well I wouldn't go that far…" she said, trying to feebly reassure his misplaced guilt. She almost reached out and touched his hand, but then didn't. Instead, she glanced down at the blanket that draped over her legs. "And, um… t-thank you." She really didn't know how to not fall in love with him a little bit after all he'd done for her so far—especially the act of service done simply to put her more at ease. He was an angel, so the kindness and gentleness fit her preconceived notions of what an angel should be. But Alex thought of the other angels, the ones who showed no compassion, only cruelty. Naomi loomed largely in her mind, puzzling her. "I thought angels were supposed to be… you know." She looked at Castiel for answers. "Angels."

He appeared similarly distressed, like he had thought the exact same thing before. "They're… not what they once were," he said softly, speaking like he wasn't even one of them. "In fact, maybe they were never what people believed them to be. Angels have become mindless servants of a god who isn't even there anymore. They're all confused and scattered and listening to the wrong voices. Too concerned with the will of Heaven and with the old laws to take into account what actually matters." His eyes looked into hers deeply. "Humans. Every last one."

But especially you. He didn't say that out loud. But she swore he was thinking it and her eyes faltered away as heat crept up her neck. She found it increasingly impossible to reconcile the fact that he was an angel and that Naomi was one, too. Alex was beginning to suspect that Castiel was one in a million. That he was something incredibly special and strange in the best of ways the likes of which did not exist anywhere else. "You… you seem different than the rest of the angels," she said quietly, finally finding the courage to chance a peek into his eyes again.

A soft, rueful smile showed at her comment and he looked down briefly as his face relaxed. "I am," he said simply, voice laced with the faintest instance of chagrin. She took in his noble profile, the five o'clock shadow of stubble, the little wrinkles and worry lines that made his face a roadmap of emotion and care. The shaggy hair that curled behind his ears. The graceful dip where his jaw ended and neck began. "It used to bother me very much," he admitted. "Unsettle me to my core. But now… I accept that I'm not like the others."

Transfixed, Alex kept her voice soft as to not shatter the moment. "What changed that?" She had a thrilling and petrifying hunch.

His smile fell in favor of a devastatingly serious expression. His eyes lifted and looked hesitantly and carefully into hers. His voice lowered and wavered. "You."

Her body was jolted by a clap of thunder. Me. How were you supposed to react when an angel told you that he had changed everything because of you? What were you supposed to do when he looked at you like that and made your stomach turn flips, your veins buzz, your body burn slowly? Probably not jump ten feet into the air and shriek in alarm when you abruptly glimpsed a spider crawling across the floor too close to your foot. "Shit!" Alex screeched, already leaping up in an ungraceful tangle of limps to stand on the bed and clutch at herself and have a mini panic attack. She staggered back against the wall above the headboard, standing in the bed on the pillows and knocking a picture off the wall in the process.

"What?!" Cas asked in panic. He had jumped up when she did and was looking around for the source of her duress.

"A fucking spider!" she sputtered, pointing at it like it was the most terrifying thing she had ever seen and he should see it, too because it was so big.

Understanding crossed the angel's face and his worry faded. "Oh." Cas located the source of what had startled her. He crouched down and instead of smashing it or something, he extended two fingertips and let the spider crawl onto him. He looked up at her as she stayed frozen in horror. What the hell was he doing? Castiel seemed to think it was necessary to explain something overtly obvious to her. "You don't like spiders."

Oh, really Captain Obvious? She shrank back further. "You think?!" she demanded as he stood up with that damn tiny black spider crawling around on his hand. If he's one of those boyfriends who shoves the thing that makes their girlfriend freak out into their faces, so help me… "Get that thing away from me!" she insisted in a tight, panicked voice, preemptively assuming he was going to be cruel.

But Cas disappeared from sight and then reappeared an instant later… sans spider. "He's outside now," he explained calmly, and she remained braced against the wall, breathing hard and covering her heart with a hand. Castiel looked at her thoughtfully and with a faint sadness. "You know I once killed off every species of spider in North America because I thought it would please you."

Still shaken up, Alex was sort of glib. "Okay, one, that's sweet, if a little over the top—" She gestured heartily at where the spider had just been. "Two, it didn't work!"

Cas turned a couple shades morose. "Scientists corrected the error I perpetuated."

...Well that was intense. Alex didn't know what to say.

Castiel looked at her for a long couple of seconds and then very uncertainly spoke up. He looked vaguely amused, but he was hiding it behind some genuine confusion. "Uh… I don't think you're supposed to stand on beds."

Prideful, Alex made a face. "I can do what I want," she retorted, trying to be tough stuff. And then she swallowed and looked around with a highly suspicious, nervous glance. "Are you… sure it's gone?"

"Yes," he said, giving her a soft smile that felt genuine and, of all things, slightly adoring. "It's safe to come down. There are no other spiders in here. I checked." When? She wasn't sure about that. The shadows in the corners could conceal lots of other creepy crawlies. But when Castiel offered her both hands to help her down off the bed, she hesitated and then made the couple uneven, springy steps toward the edge of the bed and took his hands because she didn't know if she would get another excuse to touch him. Warm, rough, large hands held her smaller colder ones and she was yet again transfixed by him, compelled to look into his eyes as he steadied her. When she stepped down and was on the ground again, she no longer needed to hold his hands but neither of them let go for a very long couple of seconds. His hands felt safe and held hers so gently—his eyes were romancing hers without him meaning to—their chests almost touched—and she didn't want to let go of him. But she did, because her heart was hammering out of control and his touch was making everything worse.

Alex pulled her hands away and edged back while messing with her hair to try to look occupied and not like she was melting inside. Castiel just watched her with that expressive, soulful gaze and she breathed out shakily, looking at the spot on the floor where she'd seen the spider. Her hands began to wring in front of herself absently, a manifestation of her anxiety. "Why do I remember that I'm scared of spiders and what a carburetor is but not who I am?" she asked faintly.

Castiel clearly shared in her struggle. "I'm really not sure," he replied sadly. "I'm sorry. I wish I could help you remember but… I'm afraid to somehow damage you further."

Well… that was nice and all, but… Alex wanted answers. And all she kept getting was more confused. "And just how the hell do I fight monsters or whatever if I'm scared of spiders?" That seemed ridiculous to her.

Castiel smiled ever so gently, like he was proud and rueful all at once. "Well and often."

Three simple words that again made her stop and stare, then quickly feel confused again. "I'll believe it when I see it," she muttered, then unconsciously fiddled with the circle shape underneath her t-shirt.

Cas's expression fell as he watched her do that. He contemplated her for a long, charged moment then asked a very careful question. "Do you… do you know what your necklace is?"

She looked down and shrugged. "A penny?" She looked up at him blankly. Dean had tried to get her to remember, too. Apparently it was something important-ish. Maybe. "Why? What is it?"

Somber eyes looked back at her and they swam with a hint of pain. "Maybe in time you'll remember," Castiel replied elusively, looking away as if he were gathering himself.

Alex waited. "Or you could just tell me what it is…?" If it was so important, they should tell her.

He looked at her with that stricken expression and took a minute to decide if he was going to say anything. Then he did. "I gave it to you."

Okay… "Like as a birthday present or something," she supposed uncertainly.

His intense eyes said so much in that moment, but she wasn't sure what they were saying. "It… wasn't for your birthday."

Alex took in an unsteady breath and decided to just stop beating around the bush about her number one curiosity. "Um, Castiel…? Tell me if this is a stupid question but I'm kind of thinking… were we…" She hesitated and he looked incredibly hopeful. "Involved?"

He gave away very little. "You could say that."

Did that mean… there had been some kind of relationship? That they… had maybe been together? Had their 'involved' status included a bed and two bodies and not much else? Did this stunning angel—her guardian—want her that way? Could angels and humans… even… do that? "How involved?" she pressed uncertainly. Her lungs felt like they were too small to hold any breath at all.

He looked as apprehensive as she felt. "Well… to be honest…" he trailed off, his eyes flickering to the penny again. "Very."

A flush of warmth poured over her and she abruptly imagined him, her, and no clothes in the midst of a very passionate moment. As a result, her voice turned to a squeak. "Oh." She cleared her throat, trying to get her normal timber back. "So. Um." Her mind was panicking. Say something. Say anything. He can probably read your dirty gutter-riddled mind! "I—I—I saw your wings in Heaven," she managed through a dry mouth, saying the first thing that came to mind besides thoughts of him on top of her. "So uh, um, why don't I see them here?"

Clearly noticing her strange demeanor, Castiel nonetheless didn't say anything about it. "They're incorporeal, in a way. It's difficult to explain." Making everything so much worse for her, he reached out and gently touched her arm with just the tips of his fingers. She jumped at the unexpected touch, wide-eyed and not sure why he was doing that. The lightest touch to the most innocent area of her arm had her a little flustered. And then she nearly gasped out loud because behind him, giant wings came into view, materializing from nothing. They were broad and feathered by shining, midnight-black feathers—strong, beautiful, and expansive. Cas watched her and kept his fingertips to her skin. "Can you see them now?" he asked in quiet, somber curiosity.

Absolutely wonderstruck, she stared at them and then at him. Nothing could prepare you for the sight of that, she didn't think, and he was so utterly magnificent and otherworldly that for a minute she could find no words. And when she finally found the ability to speak, she sounded like the village idiot. "H-h-how are you doing that?"

His fingertips fell away from her skin, and when that happened, the wings disappeared from view. "By channeling a fairly complicated pattern of wavelengths into a more cohesive array of visually perceptible—"

Alex made a face. "Whoa, okay, as sexy as the science stuff is… you lost me," she chuckled wryly. She had kind of wanted him to say something like 'it's a special bond between guardians and their charges, only you can see them.' But instead… weird math stuff.

Castiel's expression fell. "I did lose you," he said, startling her with what part of her sentence he focused on. "And it was one of the worst experiences of my entire existence."

Alex hedged away from the emotional stuff, not really comfortable with it. "Anyone ever tell you you're kinda intense?" she asked, trying to joke but not doing so good at it.

He backed away a little. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to frighten you."

Her eyebrows rose a little, his reaction striking her as kind of cute. "Do I look frightened?"

Castiel looked at her thoroughly. "No. You look… mildly amused."

Fondness drifted through her like a slow, lazy tide. "You're kind of a weird guy," she said, and it was a compliment. "I can see why I like you." Oops. She'd gone and said something that made him give her one of those deep, hopeful, intense looks again. Alex awkwardly looked for something to distract. "You—you know your tie's backwards, right?"

He looked down at it briefly, then back at her with a slight frown. "…This is just how I wear it."

Gosh. He was cute though. How was an angel who looked forty cute? Her mouth was slightly crooked in a teasing smile and her head tilted to the side just slightly as she looked him over. "Such a rebel, Mr. Castiel."

Her unintentionally flirtatious tone made his face fall and he suddenly looked vulnerable and lost. "I missed you so much," he said without thought, only a deeply ingrained forlorn and needy quality to his tone. "I—" and then he stopped himself because of how quickly she became awkward. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable."

She couldn't help it but at the same time it was really bugging her and embarrassing her. "I—I'm sorry too," she said, her gaze averted. "But I seriously don't know you." She hoped he believed her because she felt bad. "Or Sam. Or Dean. Or any of the stuff they told me about hunting and our mom and dad."

Castiel didn't look angry or annoyed with her. Just incredibly empathetic. "It's not your fault. You don't need to apologize."

Maybe not, but… "I just wish I could remember." It felt so bad to not know anything or anyone. It was terrifying and lonely and suddenly made her chest constrict and her eyes sting. "It's terrible," she managed. "Not knowing who I am. Who to trust. What to believe."

Castiel hesitated, and his eyes showed that he was desperate to help her and to lend some comfort. "It may not mean much but… you can trust me," he said softly.

Alex looked into cobalt depths that were like entire galaxies. Inside of those stunning eyes, she saw someone important. "I know," she said quietly, surprising herself a little bit with her response. But she felt it deeper than deep and said so, too. "Somehow… I know that."

Incredibly touched and pained happiness stretched his face briefly and he visibly kept himself from reaching out and taking her hand or holding her. In that awkward span of a few seconds, he worked to keep her feelings at the forefront, not his. "You know, I lost my memory, too," he told her, causing her to get a lot interested really fast. "More than a year ago now. And I remembered nothing. I forgot everything. That I was an angel. The life I'd lived. Everything." He let out the softest sigh through his nose and his eyes guiltily found hers. "I even forgot you." Alex felt her eyebrows moving up slowly. Wait. This had happened before? But vice versa? Cas was giving her this very understanding look and obviously trying to set her at ease. "I remember how alone I felt and how terrifying to recall absolutely nothing. So, I understand how you're feeling right now, if nothing else."

Wow. "Was… was it Naomi?" Alex asked, jumping to the most logical conclusion she could think of.

Castiel frowned slightly. "No."

"But… but you eventually remembered who you were?" she asked, feeling really hopeful for the first time. "And everything you'd forgotten?"

He nodded once and she hung on to his every word. "Yes. It all came back to me when…" he suddenly lost his nerve and looked away. "Well."

Alex felt a slight turn toward wariness. "When what?"

He shifted awkwardly, his eyes suddenly nervous. "Well, when you, um… when you kissed me."

Alex's eyebrows popped up high. Not what she had been expecting to hear. "What?" Then she grinned, realizing he was joking. "Come on."

He was totally serious. "I assure you, I'm telling the truth."

A little offended because she thought he had to be messing with her, she got a curt as her smile fell in favor of a frown. "What is that, some Disney crap? 'True love's kiss' or something?"

Castiel's eyes narrowed in confusion. "I'm… not sure what a Disney is," he started, then gave the slightest, most helpless shrug. "And I don't know how to explain it. But I remembered who I was when you gave me that kiss." As if that weren't all enough to process, the angel added one final, somber thought: "And, also, for what it's worth, true love does sound like an accurate descriptor when it comes to you and me."

Yet again, he rendered her completely dumbstruck with just a few words and the way he looked at her. Alex's mind had one single thought in it: holy shit. She was beginning to feel things towards him—strong and intense things. Was she remembering the way she felt about him before she'd lost her memory? Or feeling that way anew? All she knew was that the basic idea that he wanted to kiss her right now…? She wasn't averse to that idea. In fact, she was quite titillated at the prospect. "Well," she managed primly, trying not to look excited or terrified or giddy (all the ways she truly felt). "What the hell? Why not?"

Castiel's eyebrows rose faintly. "You want to… to try it?" he asked in slight disbelief.

Alex tried to downplay it as purely being about her memory. "Just, I mean, to try and see if it—if I remember anything," she lied.

It was kind of starting to feel like a business transaction and that wasn't the most romantic thing in the world. Castiel seemed to be finding it a little strange, too, but he agreed tentatively. "Well… all right. If you're sure." He looked nervous though, which made her nervous.

She tried to scoff it off. "Yeah. Psh. No big deal." But then he cleared his throat and awkwardly took hold of her forearms and looked at her and he was too much and she didn't know how to be brave enough to go through with it at all. Immediately, Alex chickened out before he could even begin to lean in. "Wait, wait," she said, shaking her head and stepping back. It didn't feel right. "No, no, um… actually… this is weird. Sorry. I—I just don't go around kissing men I don't know." She hesitated. "I don't think." She actually didn't know what her morals and values were. And Castiel was looking at her like he was heartbroken. "What?" she asked, defensive and humiliated at the same time.

He looked forlorn and a little bit defeated. Very alone. "Don't you remember me even a little bit?" And her heart broke a little, too.

She wished she did. She tried to. But the answer was still the same. "No," she said, and she wanted to cry suddenly. I want to though.

Cas misinterpreted her despair as more discomfort and apologized, seeming to think himself incapable of doing anything right. "I'm sorry to make you uncomfortable." He looked like he wanted to go to her and touch her. But he restrained himself and hovered at the edge of her personal space instead.

Alex was overwhelmed to be up against a wall she couldn't possibly break down. Frustration and despair made her want to just give up and cry defeat. She didn't get a lot of things, but one of the most prominent? How this guy had fallen for her. Had she been like really amazing before or something? Why would this epic creature from Heaven want to do with some human girl? What was she missing here? A little at her wit's end, she tossed a hand up briefly. "Sorry but how did an angel and a human…? Even meet, much less end up together or whatever? How does this even work? Aren't you like a thousand years old or something?"

Castiel looked vaguely amused and rueful at the same time. "Probably closer to a million, but that never seemed to matter," he said, startling her with the unruffled, reflective way he delivered such a bombshell. And then he began to tell her the story of them in a slow way—he sounded he wasn't done being amazed by it. "I was assigned as your guardian angel seven years ago," he said, eyes going off into middle distance softly. "As punishment, ironically enough." A soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he looked at her fully again, seeming reverent as he slowly poured his heart out and told her everything. "And the moment I saw you… some part of me knew. How different you were. How important. You immediately meant so much to me. Without explanation. But I didn't need explanation. I wanted to keep you safe and give you whatever I could. I didn't think you would ever even know who I was." Alex was still and breathless, listening in rapt attention as he spoke about someone that couldn't possibly be her. "But then when I got this vessel and was able to walk this realm alongside you… when you finally knew my name and when I could reach out and… and touch you in the physical world…" he reached out carefully and took hold of her hand just slightly by the fingertips, sending warmth and pleasantness out into her veins. "Well… now I understand there was never a point where I didn't love you with every part of myself."

His eyes burned into hers with fierce honestly and conviction. And she believed him without question, despite her best intentions to be skeptical. He sounded like someone vowing his life. Someone giving his all. His voice trembled with quiet intensity as he cautiously and earnestly spilled every ounce of truth to her. "For you, I would do anything. Past, present, or future. Always. Without question. If you call, I'll come. If you need something, I'll make sure you have it. If you're hurt, I'll protect you. Wherever you go, I want to go there too. No one and nothing is as important as you are. I spent the last three months thinking that I had lost you forever. I was empty and broken without you. You're… everything to me." He abruptly stopped talking and she realized she hadn't blinked and her eyes were filled with tears. Castiel looked unsure of himself. "I'm sorry. Maybe I've said too much," he said, hesitating and then reaching out to her like he had no other choice. He came a little closer and ever so softly wiped a fallen tear off of her cheek.

In a daze Alex shook her head, and she caught his hand in hers when he began to draw it away. "No, you…" Her eyes searched his. She held his cupped hand to her cheek, entranced. "You should definitely kiss me now," she whispered.

His expression was full of disbelief and wretched hope and his voice became a mere whisper like hers. "…Now?"

She nodded, breathing raggedy from emotion. "Yeah, now."

He didn't need to be told twice. He took a step closer, invading her personal space for real, and all coherent thoughts in her mind went silent in favor of one single thought: oh my god. Castiel gently moved his hand against her cheek in the softest and slightest caress, the tenderest of touches that sent warmth surging deeply inside. Her hand was loosely still on top of his as he leaned in carefully, exhaling a shaky breath as his worried eyes swept all over her face. He was nervous and so was she, and he seemed really afraid to push the envelope in any small way. He was incredibly gentle and careful, tortuously so. His clean, masculine scent drowned her senses, the sound of his breathing became the only thing she could hear, the brush of his trench coat against her bare legs sent her veins screaming red alert. And then his nose brushed hers and his lips touched to hers in a petal-soft kiss and her nerves evaporated completely. Oh.

Her eyes fell closed and a thrill raced upwards in her stomach as he gave her a whispering kiss that felt like home—and she immediately needed more so she turned her chin up, molding her mouth more closely to his even as her hands went of their own accord to slide up the front of his trench coat. He made the softest and most muffled sound—it made her think of a whimper—and he couldn't seem to help himself. He took hold of her like she belonged to him, like he couldn't kiss her without putting his arms around her and pulling her close. One of his hands tangled in her hair and sent tingles racing around her entire body and she made a soft sound as her hands slipped up to the sides of his neck to grasp, hold, and touch. Alex felt herself coming to life in a way she never had before, pressing closer to Castiel, seeking more and more of this angel's intoxicating touch and burningly sensual kisses. Softly and repeatedly, their lips met for kiss after kiss—and each time, their mouths became softer and more open, slower in movement. Deeper. And as tongues began to explore the sensitive recesses of each other's mouths… Alex remembered sparks.

Sparks. Like the ones in her stomach and her veins. Like the little flecks of memories that began to rain down over her. Mesmerized and covetous of more, Alex kissed her guardian angel deeper still and grabbed him by the back of the head, fingers tight in his hair. He groaned softly and she did too, drunk on him. He was so warm and familiar, so right, and she loved him. She loved him. And just like that, she clearly remembered what had been a vague shadow in her mind: seeing him walking toward her underneath a shower of white-hot sparks—a stranger, just a man in a trench coat.

That moment was the very first time she had laid eyes on Castiel—the point that Naomi had chosen and used as the epicenter of her memory erasure spell—and remembering that moment cracked the wall in half, then toppled it completely.

Alex broke the kiss, finding Castiel similarly short of breath like she was, with eyes that looked anxious and dark. Shocked and overwhelmed as it all flooded her mind, Alex took a couple seconds to reel. Cas looked on, frozen by worry. He didn't understand yet that Alex had remembered. But she had—and she was remembering in specific how the last time she had seen Castiel, or the last time she really remembered seeing him, they had been in Purgatory and he had been staying behind. She had been leaving. And it had been over. And now... she knew it wasn't. Impossible emotion overcame her and abruptly she began to break down as reality tumbled over her in earnest. Here he was. And here she was, too.

Alex put shaking hands on either side of his face, suddenly crying and grinning at the same time. "Hi, Cas."

Oh, the relief and wonder and sheer frantic thankfulness that washed over his face when she said that, when she laughed and wept at the same time, clutching herself to him as her face buried in his shoulder. He held her tightly against him and she crawled up him, locking her legs around his middle and her arms around his shoulders as she took a long, tearful moment to hold him and realize what was happening. She shook against him and he held her so tightly that she was almost crushed—his face was buried in the crook of her neck and he was breathing unevenly—crying or nearly crying. And as Alex's mind raced to connect now to then, she realized something else and abruptly sat back against Cas, realizing that it had worked—she had done it—it was all okay.

"Oh god, oh my god—Sam's okay?" she asked in a voice that was wavering like mad. Yesterday and today and Sam being fine and alive and not hallucinating himself to death charged through her mind. Oh thank you god. She cried harder still and grabbed Cas again, hiding her face in his shoulder. "Sam's okay!" She cried out in a muffled voice and clenched her fists into his trench coat, sobbing so hard she began to worry about herself a little bit. "Dean's okay, you're okay!" For a second she wanted to tear out of that room and go beat down her brothers' doors and scream and cry on them, too—but it was the middle of the night and they were sleeping. She shivered and sniffed and breathed heavily through joyful tears. It was enough to know that her family was alive and well—and all Alex could think about was Purgatory and leaving there thinking she had lost the love of her life. She drew back again and looked at her husband through teary eyes, stricken at the thought of what they had been through and how real it had been, how close to final. "I thought I was never gonna see you again," she said, touching the side of his face with two trembling hands. Her voice fell to a whisper as the ghost of what that had felt like froze her blood solid. "I thought I was never gonna see you again." And it had been one of the worst days of her life.

Cas's face was taut with emotion, his eyes were glazed with tears, he was barely keeping himself together. "I know," he managed near a whisper, one of his hands moving some teary, tangled hair off her cheek. He held her easily against himself with his other arm and let his free hand cup the side of her face tenderly. "I thought the same." It had been over. And now they had another chance. At the same time, they embraced tightly once more, holding each other as closely as possible. "I thought I had lost you forever," Cas confessed in a broken, emotional whisper that was hot and despairing in her ear. His grip tightened as his emotions grew more and more pronounced. She shook her head no as he choked out another fear. "Oh, Alex. I was so afraid you'd never remember anything."

She hugged him tighter, practically crushing him. "I remember," she choked out, so so glad that her mind was itself again. She shut her eyes, breathing in his smell, relishing his weight and shape and familiar textures. "I remember." And everything was okay. Right? Some details were still fuzzy. After a long minute, she let out a shaky breath, wiped at her eyes, then untangled herself from him and they stood closely, Cas gently touching her on either upper arm as she struggled to put her scattered memories back into linear order. "What happened?" she asked, trying to figure out how exactly this puzzle pieced together. "I was in the motel room with Dean after getting out of Purgatory and then—" she remembered abruptly. The woman in the business suit appearing out of nowhere. "Naomi."

Cas looked positively sick. "What did she do to you? When I wasn't there?"

Alex made a slight face. "Nothing really. Just threw me away into the dark until she needed some blackmail material." He was clearly so fucking worried—and Alex gave him a small, sweet smile. "I'm okay, Cas, really." She put her hand over one of his, squeezing firmly. She was okay now. And because she could, she moved closer to him and hugged him again, tucking her head under his chin with her arms circling his warm middle under his coat and jacket. So emotional and overwhelmed by happiness and relief, Alex didn't even care about Naomi anymore. Cas was here. And after struggling to get to him for so long… maybe she finally had him for good this time.

"I'm so sorry, Alex," he murmured. "She will never touch you again, I promise you that." He took hold of her and pulled back to examine her again. His handsome face was wrinkled up in anxiety. "Do you feel fully yourself again?"

She considered his question then nodded, squinting unseeingly into his left shoulder as she thought. "I think so but… uh, holy shit, it's all so jumbled up in my brain…" Her mind felt sort of like a drawer jam-packed full of unfolded clothes and she tried to get some clarity about it all. And then the memory of him being forced into a medical looking chair by Naomi caused her alarm bells to go off and her face to drop. "Wait." She peered at him intently. "Are you okay? She kept putting something inside your head with that tool." He had always screamed in pain when she did and Alex lost some confidence as she remembered him in pain. "And it hurt you."

"Yes," Cas confirmed factually, apparently over the trauma of it all. He just sounded guilty about it. "It was an inhibitor. I finally took it out when I had a moment of clarity."

"It was mind control," Alex said, finally beginning to understand a little bit.

"Correct," Castiel said in somber apology. "She said if I didn't let her put it into my head, she would kill you. I… I didn't know what else to do except to take the device and keep you alive." He looked afraid and torn apart, and what he said next made her soften completely. "Forgive me."

Forgive him? Alex took his face in both hands, confused about what there was to forgive. "Cas, I would have done the same thing if roles were reversed," she said sort of fiercely. Nothing made her feel more protective of him than when he thought he had done something wrong and hadn't. "If someone said they were gonna hurt you like that? If they did those things to you…? You know I would have done whatever they said to keep you okay. You didn't do the wrong thing."

His face showed hesitant appreciation which quickly descended back toward guilt. "Well I should have found a way to save you more quickly."

A sad smile rested on her face. It was so typical that he would blame himself like that. Her thumbs moved across his cheeks softly. "You found a way," she insisted quietly, reminding him of what they shouldn't take for granted. "I'm here now."

His eyes raised to look into hers, and they were indescribable. "Yes. You are." Abruptly he pulled her into a close embrace and shut his eyes tightly, kissing the temple of her forehead hard as one of his hands cradled her head. "I love you so much," he whispered, bending and resting his forehead to hers. "So much." She returned the sentiment in a whispered I love you too and he kissed her again with slow burn—stopping her entire world and making her whimper a little into his mouth. And then he drew back to look at her in the eye. He seemed almost at the point of tears and Alex didn't quite understand. He held her face in his hand and spoke what he had obviously been thinking about a lot. "Alex, I lost you. I mourned you. And I constantly thought about if we had another chance what I would do. So… I need to tell you everything I thought about." He swallowed, so anxious that he looked vaguely ill. "I want to be with you. I want us to be what we are. I want to be near you every day for the rest of our lives." She nodded, fighting off more tears as her heart threatened to burst. Me too. Me too. Me too. Cas wasn't finished. "We've spent so much time being torn apart and separated and I can't bear it any longer," he murmured, voice raw with emotion. "When I didn't remember you were still alive… I wanted to die."

Her stomach and heart sank in unison. "Cas…" she exclaimed softly, an admonishment and a quiet horror.

But she understood that feeling. And Castiel knew it, too. "How did you survive all the times I disappeared?"

"Just barely," she admitted. Their eyes met and held.

He took one of her hands in his and held it to his chest closely. "I was the same," he confessed, and she felt so much for him she could have burst on the spot. And when he bent his head and kissed the skin of her knuckle lingeringly, breathing her in as he did so, her heart did burst. She pulled his hand toward her and mimicked him, kissing a knuckle and then looking at him while tracing fingers through the hair on the side of his head. Love wasn't a big enough word.

His waterblue eyes did things to her that nothing else on earth ever could or would. And needing him so much, knowing he was the same, she walked backwards, pulling him along by their still-clasped hands. "Come here," she whispered as the backs of her knees hit the side of the bed. She pulled him into her arms as he complied, embracing her readily and kissing her slow and hot, letting all of his feelings drive him to a passion Alex didn't have a very hard time matching. Her emotions felt at an all-time high, because she was so aware of how close it had been. But for now, her entire world was safe and sound. Her brothers were both alive and well and in the same building. The angel she thought was stuck in Purgatory for eternity was at her side again. Thankful, amazed tears poured out of her closed eyes.

Gentle fingertips smoothed her tears away even as they kissed deeply. Cas wordlessly told her with every touch of his lips and tongue how much he felt for her, and their breaths grew louder and shorter—kisses grew more and more needy and noisy. Cas's palms slid underneath her baggy shirt and curved around her bare sides, pressing into her back warmly to pull her closer. Tingles and shivers came to life under his fingertips. Alex pushed at his trench coat and jacket in unison. Once the coat and jacket had fallen to the floor, Alex mimicked him—sneaking her hands down into the back of his pants and then up underneath his dress shirt where bare skin waited. His back muscles trembled under her groping hands and she pulled on him, never having him close enough or hard enough against her. He was setting her on fire.

With heavy, racing breath they were basically panting into each other's mouths at that point and Cas enticed quite a moan from her lips when his hand abruptly slid around to the front of her body and cupped against one of her bare breasts. A gentle, sweet, maddening touch she had to clench her legs together at. His fingers swept over sensitive skin there and pinched softly as his mouth suddenly swooped down to the curve of her neck to kiss and taste wetly. Clinging to him with half-open eyes and a slack mouth, Alex let out a soft 'ah!' of pleasure as he ground his hips to hers and expelled a needy groan against the skin of her neck. Her hands, still under his shirt, slid around to the front of his body, running up and down slowly over his strong chest, taut stomach, the tops of his hips. He felt so good, so good, and she was overtaken by the most basic lust for him—she grabbed his head and kissed him again, deep and hard and demanding, hungry.

Abruptly Cas picked her up, held her against himself, maneuvered them then dropped her onto the bed, falling with her and crawling over her, kicking his shoes off with a thunk—thunk even as they continued to make out like there was no tomorrow. Bodies, mouths, arms, legs—every last part of them invested in passion and holding each other, pressing in. Whimpering quietly between moans and sharp inhales, Alex pushed her hips up to his even as one of her hands grabbed his ass and pulled him harder against her. He let out the softest growl against her lips at the pressure and another wave of heady arousal showered over her body like rain. He was her addiction—her religion—her world.

Cas pulled her shirt off, leaving her only in underwear. He threw her shirt aside haphazardly and bent to kiss her mouth then ripped his own shirt open as he did so, tie and all getting destroyed in the process, buttons skittering around noisily. Urgent, he pulled her against himself, letting his head dip low and mouth drag against the top of her shoulder with a soft, erotic moan as their chests and torsos burned against each other. "I need to feel you," he murmured hotly, "Everywhere." One of his hands roughly cradled the side of her head, messing her hair up as he began dragging and rubbing nose and chin and cheeks over whatever part of her he found—neck, shoulders, chest, arms. His mouth dropped kisses sloppily, leaving wet marks everywhere, making her shudder and throb and protest with soft groans.

Cas abruptly stopped his passionate kissing at her neck and pulled back, like he couldn't believe she was actually there and he needed to confirm that she was. For a minute, their more basic needs became a quiet background noise in favor of something deeper. Those soul-shattering baby blues made her still and quiet. "I worship you," he breathed. When he said things like that, she burst like confetti inside. He was ancient and from places she couldn't dare grasp. And somehow he loved her. How could she ever wrap her mind around that? "And I would do anything for you in all of creation," he whispered, a tense and heartfelt proclamation that her heart echoed completely. She would do anything for him, too.

And she did want something at this very moment—a small thing, maybe sort of vain, but she decided to take her chances either way. "Lemme see your wings again?" she whispered, her heart beating fast at the thought of seeing the feathered expanses during this time together. "For… for awhile this time," she said, making sure he knew what she meant. Cas immediately understood but became slightly self-conscious. "Can you?" she asked tentatively, wondering at his hesitation.

"Well, yes…" he said quietly, and since they were touching in so many places—he silently did his science stuff that she didn't understand and like before, those midnight black wings bristled to life. Alex momentarily lost her breath. The silken, glossy spans vibrated with life, like they were living and breathing right along with him. Cas was watching her like he didn't know if she would like him closer to his true form. But she did. She was spellbound. As he held himself on his forearms over her she reached out and cautiously ran her fingers over the feathers at the crest of his right-hand wing in a soft, slow, smooth motion. They were buttery soft and felt electric somehow. At her touch he shuddered and let out a soft sound. Startled, Alex yanked her hand back a little. She wasn't sure if that had been a sound of pain or pleasure.

"Was that… not right?" she asked softly, abruptly worried.

Almost shyly, he looked at her. "It felt… it felt good," he admitted, a little embarrassed. "As it does when you touch me anywhere." Then he explained something she couldn't have known. "But, well, angels don't really touch each other's wings. So I'm… not used to it."

Alex felt a coquettish smile growing on her face. Obviously he liked it but wasn't so sure about how she felt about it. She traced a finger down the side of his familiar, beloved face slowly. If it was part of him and all right with him, she wanted it. "Well, I think your wife could touch you there…" she murmured sort of playfully.

She could tell how much he loved it when she so rarely referred to herself as his wife. He caught her hand and looked at her like he was so in love it hurt. "Yes," he returned. "I think she could." He turned his head, shut his eyes, and pressed a long kiss into her palm then murmured words against her skin that made her heart twist and clench. "She can have anything she wants from me." And in that moment among so many others, Alex wanted to cry from happiness and disbelief that he was hers. That he loved her like that.

Alex watched him kiss her palm a few more times and her breath was absolutely taken away. His wings, his face, his body—everything coming together to show her more of who he was. And what he was one word. "You're… beautiful," she whispered, looking at him and meaning every word. "Everywhere. All of you." She felt almost panicked, he needed to know, she had to tell him. A million times, she had to say it and whisper it and live it and make sure he always knew: "I love you, Cas."

He loved her too. He didn't even have to say it. But he still did. In his own way. "Love isn't a large enough word," he whispered, making her crumple in the best of ways—she felt the same. He kissed her mouth, his fingers brushing over her penny necklace as he began to move his hips against hers, applying the most frustrating and beautiful pressure in the world through the fabric of their remaining clothing.

As she ground back against him and caused him to give a few moans and panting groans of his own, Alex tried very ineffectually to get his pants off. She only managed to get them to right below his butt and she finally gave a frustrated sound. The kissing and grinding was driving her insane—she needed him, like now. "Cas?" she asked in gritted patience. When he looked at her in mild concern, she told him how it was. "I'm going to lose my fucking mind if you don't rip my underwear off and take me in the next two seconds."

Of all things, an almost teasing expression crossed his face and he let the backs of a few fingers brush down against her cheek as he stopped moving completely. "Are you?" he asked, his voice impossibly dark and husky. "Some part of me thinks you're being hyperbolic." Her mouth dropped open at his uncharacteristic cheekiness and of all things, a tiny little roguish grin crooked his mouth open, which only served to floor her further. Was he seriously amused because he was frustrating her?! It was so fucking cute (but also so fucking frustrating) that she couldn't really stand it. And so she reached around under his arm and up along his back, finding the place where skin and feathers met. She stroked fingers down experimentally right where the juncture was between wing and flesh and Cas's smile fell in favor of a soft gasp. "Oh…" he managed softly as she ran fingers over any soft area of wingspan she could find. Underneath her digits, he trembled, and in her arms, he was beginning to become flustered again—he sought her mouth for another kiss, gripping the side of her face and kissing her demandingly, then he abruptly hoisted her up as he sat back onto his heels—and angel magic, she guessed, but his pants were gone, leaving only his white boxers.

As he settled her across his lap, she thought yes, finally—he pulled her underwear down, letting it fall to her knees… and then she gave a sound of frustrated pleasure as he slid his warm hand between her legs and touched her there instead of taking things further. "No—I wanted—ungh—" she gave up with a weak cry of, "Ah—" because his touch was absolutely mind-boggling and the ends of his wings were carefully wrapping around her bare back—soft touches that made her skin buzz. She forgot everything. His hand drew more and more moans from her mouth and with her hands pressed into his chest and her body slackly curled into his, she moved her hips softly, delirious with pleasure at his hand. He remembered just how to touch her, the way she had shown him so long again in the Vatican which seemed a lifetime ago. In a daze of quiet ecstasy, her forehead leaned to his as gentle pressure and touches against her most sensitive area grew more and more pleasureful.

He stared up at her like she was a goddess. "You're hypnotizing," he whispered, and in the midst of that trance he had her in, she was abruptly overcome by a sudden carnality that drove her to reach down with both hands and grab his boxers at the front. She left Cas wide-eyed when she tore them down the middle and then ripped the leg parts in half so that he was naked. She stared him in the eye breathlessly, a little challenging glint in her eyes. He wasn't the only one who could rip things. And suddenly on board with the idea of now, Cas took hold of her again and hoisted her up over him even as she hastily kicked at her underwear so it slid down and off her ankles. Cas pulled her closer and higher so that she straddled his lap more fully and as he lowered her over him, guiding her carefully, her fingers dug into his shoulders hard and a high-pitched gasp escaped her even as a guttural sound tore out of Cas's mouth—she sank over him completely and breathless, they looked at each other a moment, forever awed by that first moment of consummation.

Alex's face began to crumble as he overtook every sense and stretched her body to the most beautiful limit. She grabbed hold of him harder, overwhelmed. Cas took hold of her more fully in turn, his touch reverent and holy. His wings carefully wrapped around her more tightly, sending shivers and tickles throughout her nervous system. And with a deep kiss that said more than words could, they began to move together. Castiel was cautious and watchful as he searched for the right pace—he was overcome just like she was. Between long, breathless kisses and the softest sobs, she ran her hand through the hair at the back of his head and sometimes touched his wings as she looked at him, drank him in, and remained helpless against the whimpers that escaped out of her mouth. His thrusts were gentle and deep inside of her, causing her the slowest and sweetest death by the agony of sheer bliss—she met his movements with soft circles and arcs. His hands slid up and tangled in the hair on either side of her face as he kissed her hot and slow with a tongue that sent zing after zing up her spine. It continued like that for a minute or two, the two of them content to torture the other in the sweetest of ways. Feel each other in every way. Savor every part of the other.

And then abruptly, Cas pushed her down onto her back with him over her—his wings enveloped them and his hands slid up and found her hands—their fingers interlaced and then held like that on either side of her head. His movements began to get more intense, more focused, deeper, harder. Their fingers clenched tighter and tighter. Becoming more and more frustrated and desperate and riled up, Alex let loose a cry of need—and then Cas pulled out of her completely, which totally threw her off. What the—? Just when she propped herself onto her elbows to see what he was doing, she found out. His mouth dragged to the juncture of her legs even as his hands roughly cradled her thighs and spread them wider. Vision exploding in time with her little gasps of ecstasy, Alex blindly threw her head back as Cas's face pushed hard against her and his tongue moved against her in the most perfect way. On either side of her, the whispery touches of feathertips tickled, and it was so good she could have cried. She was dazed and overcome with physical pleasure, but as good as it felt, she forced herself to open her eyes in the middle of her delirium and look at Cas. What she saw was an angel—wings and all—laying between her legs and pleasuring her in the most sinful of ways. Watching him do that always got her so hot, and normally she might have been perfectly content to lay there and let his mouth take her to rapture… but that day, she needed his closeness the most.

So when she grabbed his hands breathlessly and pulled on him even as she sat up and walked on her knees the short space to him, he looked a little surprised but willing to do whatever she wanted—and what she wanted was for him to sit down again—she made him do so with a push. She wasted no time in climbing onto him with a relieved sound—even as his arms circled her and he made a sound of surprise, her fingers dug into his back so hard that marks were made and in response, he grabbed her by the hair at her scalp and pulled unintentionally, a masculine gasp escaping as her fingers only dug deeper and clung harder. When his hand pulled harder on her hair, she grabbed a handful of his hair, too, and clenched hard, drawing another desperate moan from him. She pushed harder and harder, needing him deeper and deepest.

Some unspoken desperation and perhaps the fear of losing each other again began to fuel them to a frantic state and it was no longer slow and sweet but hard and raw and a little wild. It was becoming more and more intense, hurtling them toward the absolute brink, and Castiel suddenly took Alex by the face and even as she was losing grasp of all reality, he requested something new. "Say my name," he pleadingly whispered, wanting to know that she really was there, she really knew him, that this was really happening.

She let out an uncontrolled sound because she was almost beyond composure and she could tell she was about to be totally mindblown. But with everything she had left, she complied with his command as best as she could. "Ah, Cas, nrgh—!" Her vision exploded and the strength of the orgasm that began to rip through her had her clinging to him for dear life. "Cas… Castiel, o-oh!"

As usual, her release triggered his—she heard her name on his lips, felt how tight he held her and the sounds he made, his hot panting breaths against her neck, the powerful tremors his body began to give as she clenched and writhed without control. He held her steady with wings that trembled and shivered, his arms were locked around her and holding her as close as she could get as his fingers dug into the skin of her back. Their faces buried in the others necks and shoulders and hands clenched into hair and skin. They were devastated, ruined, and rebuilt all at once by the other. Wave after wave of incomparable pleasure hit and they were helpless to do anything but ride it out together.

Finally, stillness and quiet settled over them as their bodies slackened and relaxed. For a long moment, they remained wrapped up together, trembling slightly from exertion and emotion alike, holding each other with tight hands and closed eyes. His wings faded away as Cas stopping willing them to be seen. And together they rested. For a long, long moment. Hands holding. Lips kissing sleepily to whatever skin it found. Faces buried deeply against one another, breath calming and regulating once more.

Finally, when Alex lifted her head off of Cas's shoulder and found him waiting to see her, she couldn't hide the tears streaming down her face. And they weren't happy tears. Immediately, his face contorted and showed concern. "What is it?" he asked urgently, becoming rapidly panicked at her condition. "Are you all right?"

She didn't know. She was suddenly so scared. "Cas, do you ever think maybe the only reason we're in love is because we're always fighting to get back to each other?" she asked. "Because we can't actually have each other?"

His face made her regret asking that. Immediately. He looked hurt and mystified. "No. I don't think that at all." Searching for the right reaction, he hesitated. "Do you?"

She shook her head. "No." But she did, a little bit. Or feared as much, anyway.

Cas grew compassionate and gentle as always. "You don't have to be afraid," he promised, touching her face sweetly and then kissing her softly and briefly. "I love you. No matter what. And nothing else will happen to you, I promise." He stroked a hand down at the hair behind her head. "I'm not leaving you ever again." With that promise, he gently maneuvered her down to the bed where they laid together closely with feet tangled—and Cas, again with the blanket, tugged it up from where it had fallen and thoughtfully covered Alex in case she were to get cold. He held her closely, cradling her.

Alex stared into his chest with a tense look on her face. He said he wasn't ever leaving again. And as much as she wanted to embrace him anew and cry and agree with that, hold him to it… something stopped her. And even though she hated herself for even saying it… "The angel tablet, though."

Castiel grew mildly withdrawn. He obviously had thought about that too. A long couple of beats passed. "I know," he said, deeply troubled. "I'm considering destroying it altogether so that no one can ever have it."

A small ripple of shock went through Alex. In the past, Cas would never have said that. It made her realize all over again how much he just wanted to be with her. And yet she knew destroying that thing could have major and terrible consequences. "But what if it says something really important? Something we need? I mean, God did write those things apparently so… it might have something on there we could use."

It was almost like Cas wished Alex wouldn't talk to him about it reasonably. "That's my hesitation, as well," he admitted heavily. "But… Kevin's busy translating the demon tablet right now. He can't translate two at a time. So… that means I would have to protect the stone. And if I protect this object, it means I have to leave you to do so." He shook his head and his eyes grew fractionally more afraid. "I can't do that, Alex. I can't."

Not after last time he tried to take on a task to protect earth and Heaven. Alex remembered the war and everything it had set off and she was terrified, too, that something would happen to tear them apart again or destroy them completely. "I know," she said quietly. "And I don't want you to leave, but… Kevin won't be busy much longer. Especially if I go get him and bring him here. I don't know why Sam and Dean haven't done that yet." She'd overheard Sam and Dean talking about Kevin a bunch yesterday and it made her shake her head. He shouldn't be with Garth of all people. Garth was a spacecase. A nice spacecase, but a spacecase. "Poor kid all alone."

Cas didn't look too happy about Alex's line of reasoning but he conceded. "You may be right about the tablet's significance. And Naomi can't have it yet she'll stop at nothing, it seems, to get it." He let out a weary sigh, clearly disgusted with his lot in life. "Heaven is a disaster. I sometimes wish I could walk away from it completely."

She understood and shifted a little, touching his face and drawing his gaze. "If I've learned one thing during this whole life thing, it's that you can't walk away from who you are," she counseled somberly. "Even if you want to."

"What I am?" he asked, seemingly mildly offended and very convicted. "I'm yours. I vowed my life to you; I belong at your side." A rush of endorphins and love bloomed in Alex's chest when he said that. He paused and his eyes fell slightly. "But I'm also an angel who made so many mistakes and destroyed so many things. I can't just walk away from Heaven or my responsibilities. I know that. But my primary interests and concerns lie with you." He was very torn and it showed. Then asked her to make the call for him. "Alex… I'm at a complete loss. Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

Whoa. Normally she might not go for that. Especially not Cas who was learning the important skill of making his own decisions. But she sensed how agonized he was over this and she wanted to help him however she could. And honestly, she knew he would choose her if given the chance. And that tablet, as much as she hated to admit it, needed to stick around a little longer. She wanted to be selfish and tell him to throw that thing into the freaking sun and stay here with her. But in the long run, she couldn't let her selfishness potentially affect the entire realm of humanity. So, with a heavy heart, she told him what to do. "I think you should protect it until Kevin can read it," she said heavily and seriously. "And then… we go from there." She laced her fingers through his tightly, trying to help strength him and herself, too. "Together."

Cas looked at her in deep pain. "You realize this means… that I have to leave tonight. And that I don't know when I'll be back."

Her chest twinged with a familiar ache. "Yeah," she said, not bothering to hide how sad it made her. "I know." This was just apparently their lot in life. Seeing each other a couple times a year and dealing with huge, painful absences in between. She wanted to crack a joke about it… but it just really wasn't funny.

Cas's eyebrows twisted upward. "But we only just…" he protested softly, then started over again. "It's been nearly three months. And before that, nearly a year."

She knew. Oh, how she knew. The hours and days and months had stretched into painful, hopeless misery for her. She needed zero reminding. "I know," she choked out quietly, tracing fingers down the side of his face. He was making it harder, and he always would because she did not want to be separated from him. Ever. But this had to be done and unfortunately, he was the man with the tablet. "Just a little longer? And then everything's okay? I know it sucks. But we can do this. We can do anything."

He took her hand in his and searched her eyes. Mournful but resolute, Cas took a long moment and then nodded once. "I'll do what you say," he said softly. "And protect the tablet from Naomi. And Heaven. And Crowley. And, well… everyone."

Alex's face fell as a single word suddenly brought her to a standstill. Crowley. Alex's blood went cold as she remembered a kiss in the dark with the King of Hell. Oh my god. How did I forget?

"What is it?" Cas asked, seeing how her face had dropped.

How many days do I have left? Oh my god. How are we gonna—how do I get out of this? Do I get out of this? Shit. Shit!

"Alex?"

She swallowed hard, forcibly calming herself down and trying to decide how to even broach this subject. Being a bit of a coward, she didn't come completely clean. Not right away. "What if someday something happens to me that… that no one can undo?" she asked faintly. At his look of confusion, she tried to look less scared. "I—I'm just saying. What if there's things you can't save me from?" She had been so optimistic a minute ago and now, she was panicking. "What if we just can't be together in the end?"

Cas looked as if she had suggested something alien. "Don't be afraid of that," he counseled earnestly. "I am yours. Forever." He touched her face gently. "Here and in the next life."

Nothing he said could soothe her. Not at this moment. "But what if I get taken away?" she pressed. "What if you get taken away?" At the look on his face, she pointed out the obvious. "Cas, it keeps happening."

He took hold of her face and was severe in the most gentle and steadfast of ways. "If you are taken away, I will never stop until I find you," he said, and she listened. "And if I am taken away…" he smiled sadly, "well, I think we already know you will always come find me, too." Her mind scanned over the times he had disappeared and she had found him. When he woke up in the hospital more or less human. When he thought he was Emmanuel. When he was in Purgatory.

Alex smiled a little despite everything. She loved him so much. "Yeah," she said, bittersweet. "You can bet your angelic little ass I will."

His little smile fell slowly in favor of a seriousness that stilled her. "I don't know what I would be without you," he confessed. "I pray nothing ever takes you from me again."

Alex cleared her throat. That seemed like her opener for the whole soul deal right there. "Yeah, well…" she started awkwardly, "um, I kinda might have—" she stopped because Cas was frowning hard and looking skyward. "What is it?" she asked, whispering because something seemed wrong.

"I can hear them getting closer."

"Who?"

"Naomi's accomplices," he said, standing up quickly.

Wait—wait. Alex sat up and blinked, jarred when he was suddenly dressed in the blink of an eye. "I think the bunker is warded though—"

"Not against angels," he said firmly and urgently. "It's hidden, yes, but it's not safe and warding is never a complete guarantee. I don't want anyone to know your specific location, it's not safe." He looked upward again, nervous and cagey and clearly about to leave. "Alex, don't leave this place unless totally necessary. Not until I've put this matter to rest." He paused and then came to her again as she clenched blankets against herself. "I love you," he said, and it was goodbye again. "Call for me when Kevin has finished translating the demon tablet." He bent and kissed her softly then as he drew back, making a promise she hoped she lived to see. "Someday soon I'll be beside you every night when you fall asleep."

He hesitated then, loathe to leave her and she was the same—not wanting him to leave for even a minute. But this was just the way things had to be. And Alex gave him permission, again, to do what had to be done. "Go, Cas."

And so he did. Alex sat there, a little shocked by his sudden disappearance even if she had played a part in it. She was incredibly disgruntled by Naomi's timing. I fucking hate her. She swore she would someday punch that bitch in the face and then began to worry herself to death over the soul deal stuff.

It'll be okay. I have, what, five days or more left…? I can tell Sam and Dean first. Euesh. Maybe not. Maybe I tell Cas first. Give him another twenty four hours to dodge those winged dicks and then call him and explain it then he and I explain it to the boys together. Or maybe I sit them all down and tell them at the same time. Either way, she knew she was in for a lot of shocked looks, angry 'what the hell were you thinking?!' lectures… you know. The usual when she tried to do things that mattered. But somehow they would figure out a way to sidestep it. She hoped. Then she scoffed. My husband is a freaking angel… I think I can get out a little soul deal. He'll do anything for me, so… yeah. It'll be okay.

With all of that in mind, Alex's mind turned to seemingly misplaced excitement. She was gonna tackle Dean when she saw him next with the biggest hug in the world. She could hear herself now… "Bowlegs! I fucking missed you!" And jump on Sam's back and tickle him until he couldn't breathe—"tap out, Samantha! Tap out!" She didn't know if she could wait until morning though. She imagined bursting into Dean's room, happy as a clam and jumping all over him as he was half-asleep… then realized that would probably end in her getting accidentally shot. Well, what about Sam then? Eh, she'd probably get accidentally shot with that option, too. As she paced around her room and got more and more restless and ready to see them, she realized she wasn't going to sleep at all and anyway, it was early morning. Like four am, but still. It was morning. So, she decided to make breakfast for them and draw them out of their rooms that way. With the smell of bacon and eggs which hopefully she could keep from getting burned. And microwaved pancakes because no way would she attempt the real thing.

Alex dressed herself and snuck out of her room. But when she crept to the kitchen, the only thing to be found in the refrigerator was beer and a half-eaten thing of raw cookie dough. Dean went shopping again, obviously. Psh. So, with no eggs and no bacon to make the breakfast she was fantasizing about, she got her jacket and headed out into the very early morning. There was a twenty-four-hour store gas station nearby with a grocery mart built in. They had passed it on the way in. Now, the main door the the bunker did have a padlock on it inside—Sam and Dean had obviously thought she was gonna try and run away again—but she knew what the combination would be. 1955, Bobby's birthday year. With that little combination put in, she slipped out and into the crisp, chilly early morning and found herself in amazing good spirits as she thought about seeing her brothers again. She just wanted to hug Dean and tell him he was such a dick but she still loved him. She wanted to throw her arms around Sammy's neck and tell him he was seriously the most amazing long haired brother she had. And in the morning when they wandered out of their rooms, curious about the mysterious smell of bacon… she would.

The stars were out when she slipped out of the bunker and the dew-wet grass wasn't a problem thanks to her thick boots. I love these boots. I love life. I love being alive. I love Cas. Somehow we're actually going to finally be together after all this crazy shit we've been through. She floated over the landscape silently, feeling light and free even though she suddenly remembered and wished she'd gotten a chance to tell Cas about that time traveler she'd run into who looked like he could have been, you know… their kid. And then she passed by and glanced the gravestone markers. A.E.W. and J.R.W.

Alex stopped and contemplated those wooden crosses for a moment. Sorry, Jamie. For a minute, she paid silent respects. She had no idea how her friend had died and really no idea what was going on between her and Dean before everything had apparently gone mortal. It honestly didn't shock Alex though. Death was a guarantee in this life. Except when it came to her family. A pretty selfish, messed up thought. But how else was she supposed to cope other than to just keep going? Alex she knew one thing as she looked at those two crosses. I'm not dead. Not yet. So she went over and kicked her gravestone marker down, wondering why the guys hadn't done so yet. Maybe because without her memories they had considered her dead, still.

Who knows. Who cares. Breakfast.

She headed down the rural back road that led to the bunker by about a quarter of a mile, then cut through a field for another quarter mile plus, then traced her way along behind an old church that she was pretty sure was abandoned. She picked her way through the dilapidated old graveyard, leery and realizing how no matter where she looked, graves seemed to look back. Well that's morbid.

She stopped and suddenly stood a little straighter. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing straight up and she turned fast. Shit. Standing there giving her his best smug smile… Crowley.

"Miss Winchester," he greeted pleasantly, a wicked smile playing on his face and he gave her quite the coy look. "Out for a walk awful late aren't you love?" Alex went cold, realizing that those exact words were the ones he had spoken to her the first time they met. He chuckled when she realized because obviously, he'd done it on purpose. "Hello darling. Well don't look so surprised. I want what's mine."

Backing up from him and keeping her game face on, Alex tried to ignore the rising panic in her stomach. "I still have like five days or something, Crowley," she snapped. Right? "Go away."

He pulled a face of mild surprise. "After the stunt you pulled? Disappearing for three months when you had a deal coming due? I was generous from the start. You're lucky you've even got five seconds." He was serious. And Alex realized she really, really shouldn't have left the safety of the bunker. "Now," Crowley said primly and calmly, beginning to walk leisurely circles around her as he gestured languidly like he was king of the world and had all day. "I've heard it was an honest mix-up and really, after all that truly stellar work you did for me, well, I have to say, I'm quite fond of you, my naughty girl. Some might even say I owe you." He gave her a suggestive little wink as she gave him the go die look of the century. "But none of that negates the fact that I'm quite tired of waiting for you to, oh, you know—pay your dues!"

When he flew into sudden fits of rage like that, Alex could only roll her eyes at his antics. He was such a moron. Crowley straightened his suit with a thin, false smile as he put on an air of snide patience. "Forgive me, sweetest, but patience isn't exactly one of my shining qualities, so I'm afraid to tell you tonight's your last one." Alex swallowed hard, alarm making her stupid. How could she talk herself out of this? Or bargain for more time? And then, before she could put anything together, a chilling, long howl carried across the thin night air and Crowley smiled pleasantly and pointed upward, indicating the sound that made Alex's blood freeze. "Hear that?" he asked softly. "Fido's not had breakfast and I'm afraid she's got quite the appetite." Alex's breathing started to go hard as her pulse began to race. Pure panic started to take over and then Crowley offered his hand to her. "Would you prefer the less bloody route?" He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows at her. "I'll be nothing but the perfect gentleman. I think they made a movie about this once. Demon walks his lovely young assistant to Hell. Great reviews at the box office."

"Yeah, you know what, Crowley?" Alex asked steadily. She reached out, took his hand… then with a yell she yanked him toward her even as she threw a bone-breaking right-hook at him right in the face. "Kiss my ass!" she shouted as he gave a pained protest and smacked a hand to his face.

Red and appearing very annoyed, he straightened. "Well, as exhilarating as that sounds—" she socked him again the second his face was turned upwards and he got indignant at her useless brute tactics. "Will you stop that?!" The howls sounded closer and Alex backed up a few steps, realizing she was wasting precious seconds. And with nothing left to do, she started to run as fast as she could, back toward the bunker, which was more than half a mile away. She already knew she was dead, but she wasn't going to go down without a fucking fight.

"You can run all you like, Mouse!" Crowley shouted. "It didn't have to be like this!" He rolled his eyes as she continued to flee. "Stubborn as a sodding mule." He brushed at his suit and then felt his face where she had struck him. And then pulling an expression at himself like he couldn't forget this part, he lifted his hand, ready to snap his fingers. "Ah yes and just so Cas doesn't come running and ruin all my fun…" he snapped his fingers together, supernaturally rendering Alex incapable of making a sound. "I know it's been done before," he sighed dramatically to no one but himself. Then a smug smile crossed his face. "But I daresay I win." No angel would save her now.

And now, Crowley had two Winchesters downstairs to play with...

He sauntered off, chuckling as he imagined the good times to be had ahead.