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.

123. The New Testament

Song Remains the Same

Chapter 123 / The New Testament

"Life takes you unexpected places. And love brings you home."
- Unknown

---

After a hectic two-minute drive back to the bunker with Alex sandwiched between two unconscious, charred men in the back seat and Dean and Sam drilling her with questions which she tried to answer as best as she could while asking some of her own… the twins hauled a very unconscious, very heavy Castiel into Alex's room of the bunker.

With some difficulty, they managed the task and then unceremoniously dumped him onto the bed where he sprawled on his back like the sooty, dirty lump that he was. A little out of breath from the task (Cas looked light enough but it must have been something about his angel stuff… he felt like he was several hundred pounds or more), the twins stood back and exchanged a tired, slightly disbelieving we did it look. Alex was disheveled and sooty and smeared by dirt—her clothes were burned away in places and discolored, her long hair was bedraggled and unkempt, her skin was a faint ashy gray smeared with black soot and dirt here and there. Sam was smudged black in several places from holding and hugging her and from carrying Cas: his clothes, jaw, even a place on his cheek. He was already looking physically ill from the trials, so basically, they both looked pretty rough. But despite that, they exchanged a weary, soft-eyed smile and Sam pulled his sister into another gentle, close hug. She wrapped her arms around his middle, nestled her head against his chest, and that's where they stayed for a long moment. She sniffed softly, and he closed his eyes, holding tears back.

Ten minutes ago, Alex had been in Hell and the brothers hadn't even known.

Sam still couldn't believe what had happened or that she'd sold her soul to bring Bobby back. He was having a tough time not breaking down on her behalf when he thought about how long she'd been there. In the car, she said the hounds had come for her the night that she slipped out of the bunker past their lock. So basically a month, or in Hell-time… ten years. Sam remembered without wanting to the sight of her shredded converse shoes and jacket. Unbidden, he imagined her screaming as she was torn apart and helpless. Alone. Without anyone to save or help her. And then him and Dean cluelessly carrying on with stupid shit and not tearing the universe apart to get to her. What if I had closed Hell and Alex had been in there? Past the point of caring about how dirty either of them were, Sam kissed the top of his sister's head hard and held her a little tighter as his throat choked up and eyes stayed squeezed closed. He hoped to whatever god or higher power was out there that his little sister wouldn't face the torment he knew so well. The nightmares of Hell, the scar left behind on everything he was.

Sam's mind was spinning nonstop. What the hell did Dad being back mean? Was he gonna pull through? And if he did, what did that mean for their family? It was all such a huge unknown. As was much of Sam's life at current time. Well, whatever John Winchester's sudden return brought, Sam just knew he wasn't gonna let Alex down again. Or Dean. Sam was gonna make it up to them with these trials and set his wrongs right. Maybe his sister would forgive him someday for abandoning her while Dean and Cas were in Purgatory. Although so far, she didn't seem angry with him like Dean was—they hadn't talked about it however. Her bitterness would probably come later after she recovered from the shock of being resurrected. Sam's eyes filled with tears he had to blink back. He hadn't seen his sister as herself in, what, over a year? It was fuzzy and it hurt if he thought about it too hard, but he figured right around when Dick died was the last time he had really seen her. After that had happened, he'd proceeded to leave and then spend about a year in denial with the Amelia thing and then when he'd rejoined Dean, Alex had been 'dead.' Sam had mourned his twin so hard and felt like he'd lost a part of himself—blamed himself because he thought if he hadn't run away with a dog and a girl, his sister might still be alive. And then Alex had come back… but had been without her memories.

Today, finally, she was here and she knew who he was and was hugging him back just as hard as he was hugging her.

This was something that Sam would never take for granted again, ever.

Clearing his throat to try and compose himself a little, Sam finally pulled back, held her by the upper arms, and found his sister looking up at him with eyes that glinted. In a moment of deeply fond playfulness he never expected, she reached up and touched the end of his hair then cracked a cheeky little grin despite the tears in her eyes. "Hair's getting so long, Samantha," she joked. "You trying to catch up to me or something?"

Despite everything, a little laugh came out of Sam's mouth and a real, disbelieving grin cracked his face. It wasn't even that funny, but it didn't need to be. It was her. Corny, slapstick, dry humor Alex. "I missed you," he said softly, shaking his head as he confessed what was a severe understatement. These past few months with just him and Dean and nothing but bitterness and misunderstanding between them... he'd never felt his sister's absence more keenly than he had this year. He was so, so glad she was here again now. And he would never take her for granted in any way, ever again.

When he said he missed her, the tiny smile on her face grew a little, but it was marked by a dip into pensiveness. "Yeah." Sam's heart fell slightly. He mistook her quietness and sudden somber air to perhaps be related to how he abandoned her in favor of Amelia. Guilt weighted Sam anew. I still don't understand why I did that. I don't know how I could have ever put some girl ahead of my family. Alex suddenly squeezed him hard, her cheek pressing close to his heart. "Love you, Sammy," she whispered fiercely, catching him off guard and breaking him emotionally. "So much."

He didn't deserve it. His heart welled inside of his chest and his voice caught in his throat. "Love you too," he whispered back with effort, feeling every bit the consummate hypocrite and unworthy. He sure had a damn great way of showing it, didn't he? And no matter how much he loved her, he would always be so afraid that something would happen to corrupt their relationship. He wished he could erase the things Lucifer had shown him—it was all like this ugly, dark secret that ate him alive. I'm such poison to this family. And Sam pulled away from his twin suddenly while clearing his throat and avoiding her gaze. He never wanted her to know the things he'd been forced to see and endure. He didn't want anyone else to have to carry what he did.

Sam glanced over at Cas, who hadn't stirred once since fainting earlier. He was bleeding badly out of a sizable stomach wound. Alex had temporarily used parts of her own ripped shirt to block up during the short ride here, and Sam could see how blood was beginning to soak through what she'd cobbled together. Alex followed her brother's gaze and saw what he saw. She quickly went to tend to her angel.

Somewhere down the hall, Dean was making a lot of ruckus—it sounded like he was wheeling something around and Sam glanced that way, expression twisting up in conflict. He didn't know if he should stay here or go see about helping Dean with getting their unconscious father situated.

Alex had already grabbed the first-aid kit that stayed by the door—each bunker bedroom had one in the exact same place. She ripped Cas's shirt open and batted his tie aside to get a better look at his wound. When she saw the twelve-inch plus size gash in his lower abdomen, she muttered under her breath in slight horror. "God, Cas, what did you do?" She was already getting out the bottle of rubbing alcohol and digging for a needle and sutures while Sam hovered. It didn't take two people to sew someone up. And he was really antsy to go check on the other Hell escapee. Glancing up at him, his sister realized his dilemma. She shooed him offhandedly even as she unscrewed the cap of the alcohol. "You go on," Alex said, deciding for him. "I've got Cas. Go see Dad."

Sam hesitated. "You sure?" he asked doubtfully. Guilt piloted his every move.

"Yeah, no, I'm sure," Alex said distractedly even as she dumped sterile alcohol over Cas's wound with no finesse. He jerked slightly but otherwise didn't respond. "I'm just gonna do what I can here and get some sleep unless you guys need me," she said, then pressed some clean gauze over Cas's wound while she got a needle ready. "I'm fucking exhausted."

He remembered that feeling. "Of course," he said graciously. Everything else could wait for morning. He'd slept for like a day or two after his soul had been put back into his body. Still, he hesitated. "You... you need anything before I go? You sure you're okay to stitch him up by yourself? I mean, I can help…"

Alex deftly threaded the needle and her eyes glanced up at his with an edge of playfulness. "Nah, it's okay, we all know who the best patcher-upper in this family is," she said, then paused and looked him over, her expression tensing. "You look like you need some rest though, huh?"

Sam could feel how bad he looked down to his bones. These trials were scrubbing away everything and leaving him feeling threadbare. "That's uh, putting it pretty lightly," he said, trying to laugh it off weakly.

Alex grabbed a lighter out to sterilize the needle—she paused and studied him very briefly. She saw straight through his I'm fine bullshit. But there wasn't time to go fully into it. So she offered: "This is all gonna be okay somehow, Sam."

Sam nodded and swallowed a thick lump. Unbelievable. She'd just come out of Hell and was more okay than him somehow. He felt a flash of deep, dark guilt. "I should be telling you that."

Alex was distracted by her task. "It's not a contest," she joked, then set the lighter down and turned more somber when she saw Sam's half-sick expression. "I'm serious, Sam," she said more softly. "I'm okay. Don't worry. I'm just really, really glad to be topside again."

He felt a weary smile break on his face. He got that. He really, really got that. "Yeah. I know. Me too." He watched her as she began to stitch Cas's wound closed carefully with nimble fingers, sending a couple worried glances Sam's way in between movements. Either way, Sam guessed that was his cue. "Well… see you in the morning," he said, starting to drift toward the door. "And no more running off, all right?" A weak little joke she let out a soft laugh at.

"Trust me. I'm not going anywhere."

His heart warmed. He'd hold her to that. Forever. He paused at the doorway. "We've uh… we've got a lot to catch up on." He gave a soft, sheepish laugh. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't dying to just sit and talk with her awhile. Tell her everything going on in depth and get her perspective on things. Find out everything he'd missed on her end since he bailed last year.

Alex paused looked up at him understandingly with a little crooked smile. "I know we do." Her smile broadened and rested in her eyes. The love there humbled him. "'Night Sam."

In that moment, Sam realized that when he hadn't noticed or been watching, Alex had become the woman he had always known she could be. The more angry, sullen, insecure, I-hate-the-world girl was gone. In her place, a woman who stood on her own two feet—the fire had made her stronger. She had a balance to her that she hadn't had before. She had grown up and come into her own. Sam gave her a tiny smile in return. He was proud of her but bittersweet because honestly, sometimes he just wanted it to be him, his brother, and his sister for the rest of time.

"'Night, Al," he returned softly then left, shutting the door quietly behind himself.

And just like that, Alex was left alone with her unconscious angel.

Quite frankly, she wasn't entirely convinced this was even real. It felt too good (minus Cas bleeding on the bed) to be true. She was alive, her family was together again… even Dad had made it. Could this really be happening?

In Hell, sometimes she'd been given beautiful visions of happiness and then it had all been torn away and replaced by a living nightmare. It was the best form of torture, honestly. Make the person feel safe and good... then remind them it was all a farce and they were, in fact, stuck in torment for eternity. But... this felt different than all the other thousands of times she'd been tricked in Hell. And if this was real… she wasn't taking any chances. That's why she was stitching Cas up. She guessed it didn't totally matter because, you know—angel—but Cas didn't lose consciousness often. His condition was dreadful: His trench coat was frayed and burned away in places, torn and missing buttons. His white dress shirt was practically gray. He had a cut or two on his face and of course the gaping wound on his stomach—his skin was ripped open in a way Alex couldn't assess or recognize.

About halfway through stitching his wound shut, she paused her work and looked at Cas's still, peaceful face, his shut eyes. Even banged up and dirty, he was so beautiful that her throat caught.

She hadn't been with him or seen him in what felt like ten long, agonizing years. Love and fear alike gripped her heart as his closeness really hit her. Truly, actually hit her. She had pined for him all those years and held out all hope for him to come for her. And he had. Here he was. Hell was gone. She was okay... but only if he was, too.

Her heart tugged, pinched, and grew a size.

Please don't die...

That whisper of a thought made her stomach turn and her resolve waver. If he perished... she felt like she would too. Briefly, she bent over his body and put her face near his, kissing his cheek long and slow, breathing him in. She stayed close and let her hand gently rest on his chest, taking in the shallow rise and fall of steady breathing. A comforting rhythm she had all but forgotten. It healed her in a small way. She crawled into bed beside him closely, shut her eyes, and imagined that he was just sleeping. That he wasn't in some kind of angel coma. That he was okay.

"Wake up, Cas," she whispered, then opened her eyes and contemplated his familiar, dirty face—every beloved little age line and arc and hollow—every eyelash and the stubble-shaded line of his strong jaw. Her fingers traced against his ashen skin and then she let her hand slide down his arm, searching until she found his hand to hold in hers. "Please?" She squeezed his limp hand, her voice barely audible. "Wake up…"

Startling her, his eyes snapped open as if on cue and he took in a long, sharp breath through his nose—and then he slowly turned his head and looked at her with those earth-shatteringly crystalline blue eyes she had all but forgotten in Hell. Alex was stricken momentarily mute by the intense shade. That was the moment that she knew, for sure... this was no vision or trick. This was real. When Cas saw and recognized her, the slight confusion on his face faded away and in its place, there was a wash of relief. The softest, contented smile spread across his lips and he spoke with a rough, raspy voice she hadn't heard in years as his fingers curled in around hers.

"Hello, Alex."

---

Hell is a place of everlasting torment. Unending suffering. Fire, agony, and hopelessness. An impenetrable fortress and a stronghold that not many ever escape from. Whoever is so unfortunate to end up there usually finds themselves a permanent resident. But Alex Winchester? Not just anyone. And when her guardian angel Castiel heard where she was and what had happened… nothing on earth, in Heaven, nor in Hell could stand in his way of rescue.

For the rest of time, demons and wayward souls alike would tell of the angel who stormed the gates of Hell and left nothing but obliteration behind. He came like a great and terrible storm into the realm, blistering with rage that scattered his enemies like flimsy cards in the wind. He smashed and fought his way through every layer of Hell without mercy, diving deeper and deeper down as he sought the soul he loved. Anywhere he touched was laid to absolute ruin—and none had ever seen an angel as fearsome and frightening as he. When Castiel plunged into the deepest level of Hell, his desperate search was not in vain. He found her there, he was drawn to her like a magnet to a magnet. It had taken more than ten angels to pull Dean Winchester out of Hell in years past. But for Alex, it only took one…

Underneath an angry red sky, exhausted and depleted and near delirium, she had staggered forward aimlessly. It had been weeks that she and Dad had been wandering the wastelands. After conspiring with Lola for some time, they had planned their escape. Lola had knowledge of guard shifts, cellblock layout, that kind of thing. She had done her part in helping them escape and Alex and John had done theirs. Well… mostly. Right when the three of them got to the exit from cells to wasteland… Alex pulled some of the shadiest, most necessary shit she ever had. The second after Lola opened the door out with the stolen key she'd obtained, Alex had jumped the demon from behind, broken her neck, stolen the key, then pushed Dad through the exit and slammed it behind them. Then they had run and not looked back. There hadn't been a choice as far as Alex was concerned. John had been taken aback at her ruthless actions, then impressed, then disturbed. Alex didn't really care how he felt about it. It had to be done.

But after weeks of wandering and searching for the cage or, well, anything, Alex was wishing she'd kept the snarky little demon around if for nothing else, guidance. Dad was giving up hope. He only seemed to keep going because she did, and he moved more and more sluggishly all the time. Alex had to dig deep to stay motivated. She was losing hope, too. The wastelands were a vast and rocky desert. Hostile, unending, with very little in the way of shelter. Harsh, stinging winds whipped across the barren surface at all times, kicking up dust storms. Great dinosaur-like birds sometimes circled in the sky, looking for prey. The dark, blood-red sky churned and boiled without ceasing. In the distance, mountains, but they never seemed to get closer. Alex wanted to find the cage which was rumored to be somewhere out here. But they found nothing and no one and made no progress of any kind. Just wandered aimlessly.

She and John were struggling through the endless, bleak desert as they always had (it felt like) with Alex leading the way at a ragged, tired gait. She looked back over her shoulder toward where Dad was. He'd fallen behind again and was doubled over, bracing himself against his knees with claw-like hands. He was exhausted, but this was Hell. There was no sleep or rest and there never would be. Alex plodded back to him, each step a colossal effort. "Dad, come on, don't stop," she cajoled with all the rallying she could muster (it wasn't much).

He looked up at her, face twisted in pain and fatigue and she already knew he was going to say that he was too tired to go on… and then his expression dropped as his eyes went to stare somewhere over her shoulder. He looked confused, and then afraid. "What the hell is that?" Even as he asked, Alex noticed how a bright light was shining seemingly from behind her, casting Dad's face brighter and brighter.

Alex whirled, fearing danger, squinting and throwing a hand up to shield her eyes. She fell back slightly as a fearsome, concentrated mass of blue-white light brighter than the sun rocketed down through the inferno sky. There was a sound now like no other: an ear-shattering, high-pitched ringing sound that she recognized and knew. Her heart leapt. Around them, the ground was shaking, the wind began to roar. In the sky, lightning criss-crossed and flashed as if in response to this hurtling, comet-like entity. And Alex knew who and what that was. Castiel. In all his celestial, terrifyingly angelic form. He was both angel and man, impossible for her to understand or process, and so very bright. Her breath failed, her stomach dropped, her eyes couldn't take his true form or how blinding it was and she let out a cry of pain as she screwed her eyes shut and fell down to her hands and knees. Her eyes burned, her ears rang, the ground suddenly gave a tremendous shivering groan as the angel crash-landed with a small sonic-boom. Realizing what was happening, Alex panicked and began to reach around for her father blindly. "Dad, Dad!" she screamed. Her wild, frantic hands found his wrist and forearm and she clamped on then held on harder than she had ever held onto anything else in her entire life. Just a fraction of a second later, she felt Castiel take hold of her from behind. It was too bright to see anything, but she could feel his hands searing into her as he wrapped her from behind in a tight embrace. His familiar, fierce presence enveloped her.

I have you.

She heard his voice and felt it inside of her even as around them, Hell began to crumble and fall away. He held her impossibly tight and they screamed upward through what felt like magma. Pain exploded in Alex's every atom as Castiel literally ripped her soul out of Hell and put her back together piece by piece. She hung onto Dad no matter what, for dear life, refusing to let go. On fire perhaps from the speed they hurtled up or from being that close to Castiel's true form, Alex could only smell smoke and burning things. And then without warning, they hit something solid and cold and all the light was snuffed out, the fire was gone. Heavy dirt abruptly surrounded and gagged her and she couldn't breathe at all—panicking, she felt herself being pulled up higher and higher by strong hands, and then just when she thought she would die without air… she broke into cold, dark night air and gasped out a huge, deep breath and fell down, stunned, blinking, shocked.

Where am I? What just happened?

She looked around for understanding and then saw them. Her brothers stood nearby and gaped down at her with eyes wide as saucers. Who was more shocked and glad to see the other? Hard to say. But Alex had never felt such a surge of sudden joy in all her life, she thought. She leapt up and sobbed out even as she crashed into her Sam and Dean.

Nearby, an angel who was about to faint smiled quietly.

And that was how Castiel rescued Alex and John Winchester from Hell.

---

Together, they laid at the foot of the bed—him with his legs draped over the edge and feet on the floor; her curled into his side, hands bloodstained from tending to his wound.

"Hello, Alex," he whispered soft and rough as sandpaper. At the sound of his voice, Alex felt the biggest surge of relief describable. She hugged him around the neck with an overjoyed sob... and he made a semi-surprised, pained sound.

Alex jumped back, taking all physical pressure off of him. "Sorry, sorry—! Are you okay?"

He looked taken aback—he put a hand over his stomach and gritted his teeth, breathing harshly and screwing his face up in confused discomfort. "Where—what happened?"

It struck her as odd that he wasn't clinging to her and asking if she were all right. But she chalked it up to shock. "Y-you passed out," she explained, and then indicated his half-sewn wound that he had a hand pressed against. "Lost a lot of blood. Which usually doesn't matter, I think, but…" she trailed off. He was trying to sit up and having an immense amount of difficulty doing so. She felt scared seeing him like this. "Geez, Cas, you don't look so good." She stood herself up, reached for him, and helped haul him up with some effort.

His jaw tightened as she helped him sit. "I'm not." At the draining color in her face, he forgot his own agony for a moment. "But I'll be fine," he said compassionately as she stood in between his loose knees. "I just… there's nothing left—no strength or ability—for me to heal myself with right now."

Alex shook her head, dazed by the bad news. "Because of… because of Hell?"

Cas struggled to talk through his grimace of pain. "Partly, but… Crowley got the angel tablet. Which I hid inside of myself." Suddenly his wound made sense. Alex gaped at him incredulously and when he glimpsed her expression, he acknowledged how risky that had been in a faintly disgruntled way. "It… seemed like a good idea at the time."

Okay. Missing angel tablet. Crowley had his hands on it. Super fantastic. But Alex wasn't as worried about that as she was about the angel. She touched the side of Cas's face, drawing his gaze in earnest. "We'll worry about that later. Right now I just… I guess I need to finish sewing you up."

Cas looked like he was a man who hadn't slept in a thousand years. Depleted of everything, he nodded wearily. "Yes, that would probably be a good idea." He looked off at nothing. "Otherwise I'll bleed out and die."

Alex stiffened. He'd said he was fine a minute ago. But he could bleed out and die from this? "What? How is that fine?" She gritted her teeth and grabbed the needle again. "Jesus, Cas."

She began to sew again and after a moment, glanced at him in thinly veiled worry. The needle obviously hurt him, but he soldiered through with little more than a strained expression and deep breathing as evidence of his discomfort. "My Grace," he finally murmured in a tight voice. "It's… very damaged." He looked like perhaps he was just realizing that fact himself for the first time. "Irreparably so, I think."

Alex's stomach lurched. "B-because of… pulling me out?" she asked in dread.

Cas gave her an unreadable, tense glance before he looked away. "Yes." Alex was dismayed. Was he angry with her? Alex's eyes fell away. And then without warning, Cas took hold of her wrist—and Alex was startled as her gaze snapped up to meet his. His eyes blazed with hurt and confusion and even slight anger. "You sold your soul. Why? And when?" His grip softened; so did his voice. Then his expression broke completely. "And why didn't you tell me?" His hand loosened on her wrist and his fingers slid down to hold her hand tenderly.

Alex stared at him for a long moment, her throat lumpy and painful. The way he touched and looked at her brought things back that had felt forever-lost in Hell and even though guilt ate at her for his condition, a spark of something else much truer came to life inside of her chest. "It's… complicated," she said after a couple of seconds. Cas waited with that worried look on his face and Alex tried to sum it up as succinctly as possible. She looked at his hand holding hers, remembering solemnly. "After you and Dean got sucked into Purgatory… Sam went right back to hallucinating. He couldn't sleep and wouldn't eat, he got worse everyday—what was I supposed to do? I wasn't gonna let him die. There were no other options." All the feelings came rushing back. The helplessness and despair, the need to do something. The lengths she'd gone to for her brother's life.

"That explains why my insanity disappeared when I left this realm and arrived in Purgatory," Castiel commented in soft shock.

Alex gave a harrowed nod. "...Crowley didn't even wanna deal at first," she admitted sheepishly, totally ashamed of this entire part of it. "I had to like… talk him into it."

Cas was hesitant. "…How?" he asked cautiously.

She wanted to forget the how. But she looked down at Cas's hand still holding hers and she found the ability to say the truth—keeping it inside would eat her alive. "Worked for him. Six months. And got him some necklace he wanted for his 'collection' out of Purgatory." When she took a chance and looked up into Cas's eyes, she saw horrified disbelief. But she wasn't going to apologize. "I had to, Cas. I hate it too, trust me. But… I did what I had to." It was shameful and she wasn't gonna deny it to him. Just try and move past it. She put her mouth in a thin line. "Sam will blame himself when I tell him. And Dean will just…" she let out a charged sigh, "be stupid about it." She paused and then with resolve, reached for the needle again, bound and determined to finish sewing Cas shut. Yeah, she'd done some terrible shit but everything was better for it. That was what she had to focus on. "I mean… is it really so bad? Sam's alive." She paused and then smiled a little despite herself because of what she'd learned in the car ride over. "Bobby too."

Castiel looked more and more bewildered. "What? Bobby's alive?"

Alex could barely believe it either. Voice gone soft, she nodded. "Yeah. And they said he's gonna be here tomorrow, so…" her stomach flip-flopped with pure joy at the thought of seeing her uncle again. Her chest could burst, but... she gave a rueful, conflicted smile as she made the last few stitches. "My brothers think he's why I sold my soul and uh—I didn't exactly correct them. I'll tell them later once they've gotten their panties untwisted, you know?" She shook her head somberly and tied the thread off, face stony. "I don't regret what I did. I hate that it had to get so dark but… I had to do it." She set the needle back into the kit slowly, eyes far away as a very real, creeping fear crawled up her spine. Memories of Hell consumed. "I'm… I'm just kinda scared Crowley will try and repo me, you know?" She said it so much more lightly than she meant it.

Having a hard time moving much, Cas again took her hand in his. "I promise you, Alex," he swore in deadly grimness. "Crowley will burn before he gets within ten miles of you. He will never lay a hand on you again. Ever." His eyes blazed into hers. In that moment, Alex easily remembered this angel in magnificent, blinding light and incredible, incomparable power. She could have shuddered from fear if he wasn't on her side—Castiel was not someone you would want to have as an enemy. His promise comforted her immediately and as a moment passed, his eyes were soft on her and sad. "Just… help me understand," he pleaded, trying not to be too hurt before he knew everything. "Why didn't you tell me? I could have—I could have protected you."

It wasn't that simple. "I tried to tell you," Alex said honestly, slightly defensive. "Last time we were together, I was gonna. But you got called away right when I was about to tell you everything. I didn't know it was all about to go down—I thought I had a few days left and Crowley sprang the hounds on me when I went out to get some food." Snarls. Snapping jaws. Tearing flesh. She winced at the unbidden memory.

Cas was looking at her with the most bare expression on his face. He saw the ghosts that haunted her. "Everything else in the world be damned—Alex, you should have told me." His utter conviction in that proclamation stole her breath away. "You should have never set foot in Hell," he said in a trembling voice. "Ever." And then he lost some composure as he came to a terrible realization. "This is my fault. If I hadn't broken Sam's mind. If I hadn't worked with Crowley. This wouldn't have happened. This can all be traced back to me."

Alex shook her head no immediately, even if it was true enough. "I'm the one who sold my soul, Cas."

Shining blue eyes filled with pain looked back at her. "Because you had no other choice."

That was one way to look at it, but Alex wasn't so sure if she believed that and hesitated, thinking. "There's always a choice." She could have let Sam die. But that hadn't been something she was willing to do. "And I made mine." To sell her soul, to work for the King of Hell, to burn in the underworld, to trade her life for her brother's and her uncle's. She knew it and Cas did too. His face crumbled in pain, compelling Alex to gently, carefully hug him. "Shh," she whispered, but she was getting emotional too. "Shh." She kissed the top of his head and kept her hands gentle on his sore body. "It's over now."

He weakly put his arms around her, his fingers clinging into her raggedy, ruined clothes. She felt his head shake slightly. "But the things you went through…"

Were things she didn't want to think about. "I survived," she said tersely, pulling back and looking at him to let him know how much she meant that. And there were positives to it, too. Sam alive and Bobby alive of course, but there was more. "I… I feel okay again, like—drug-wise." Kind of embarrassing to bring that up, but she hadn't had any kind of inclination toward her old habits ever since Naomi. "So that's actually kind of a plus…?" Cas didn't look super convinced. "And, hey, not immortal anymore, either," she pointed out, which only made Cas more glum. Alex touched the side of his face with a steady hand. It was important that he knew this. She dropped her half-hearted joking. "I'd do anything for my brothers. I'd do anything for you. I don't just say that to say it."

Cas gave her a soft, conflicted smile. His eyes held shining, forgotten tears. "Sam is very lucky indeed to have a sister who would lay down her life for him." He reached out and brushed the backs of his fingers against her jaw. A sweet, haunting touch. "But I hate that it came to such dire measures," he said, face tightening up into self-loathing again. "I should have been here."

She wished he had been too. "You're here now," she offered.

His eyes were deep with emotion. "Yes. I am." His gaze dropped to her lips, and her stomach jolted at the sudden desire to kiss him and be kissed. She hadn't felt the touch of his lips in ten years. But then he asked something she hadn't expected: "So to seal this soul deal you… kissed Crowley." It was more of a statement than a question, but it caught her off guard and demanded an answer and felt sort of like a slap in the face.

Ugh. Moment ruined. Alex made a face and sat beside Cas. "Don't remind me," she muttered, abruptly petulant and irritable.

Cas studied her hesitantly. "You… didn't enjoy it?" What?! Alex whipped her head sideways to give him a flabbergasted look. Fumbling, Cas tried to explain himself. "He… said you enjoyed it."

...Of course he did. "Cas. You know Crowley's full of shit," Alex said wearily. Cas looked relieved, while Alex abruptly let out a long, sarcastic sigh. "Believe it or not, I did not enjoy that skanky demon shoving his gross old tongue in my mouth." She glanced the angel's way. Around her neck, she felt the light, constant weight of her penny necklace. The moment sobered. "Cas... I was scared to tell you," she confessed honestly. "About the soul deal. I guess I could have told you in Purgatory but… I thought I'd never even see you again. You were gonna be stuck there forever." She pulled back to look him in the eye. "I thought it'd be better if you didn't know what was ahead for me. You could just go on and think I was okay, you know?"

Cas looked utterly horrified. "Oh Alex… no," he breathed. "Don't try to protect my thoughts and feelings like that. If something bad is happening to you, it's happening to me too. And you have to tell me." Breathing unevenly, he appeared to become downtrodden and introspective. "We… really have to stop keeping things from each other."

His words inspired such depths of emotion and feeling in her. And yet all she could come up with to say back was a soft, weak, "Yeah."

There was a short, tense silence in which Alex withdrew into silence and Cas gazed at her tensely. Finally, gently, he asked what she had a hard time answering. "What happened to you? In Hell?"

The question jangled her. And she deflected with a forced, weak smile. "Just your run of the mill beatings and skin getting peeled off over and over." She shrugged it off flippantly. "Worst moments of life replayed over and over like it's happening again. Nothing fun, that's for damn sure." She rubbed the side of her neck self-consciously. She didn't want to remember Hell, but knew she didn't stand a chance of escaping the memories. "And... my Dad," she said softly, surprised at what she was about to say. "But… most of the time, him being there made things better, actually."

Cas frowned slightly, thinking hard. "I pulled him out, too, didn't I? Well, not purposefully, but still." Alex nodded confirmation. "How is he?"

She shook her head vacantly, thinking back to the charred, non-responsive man in the back seat on the drive over here. "Sleeping. In a coma. I don't know." But god, she hoped he'd be okay...

Quiet for a moment, watching Alex in concern, Cas was careful and empathetic. "This... complicates things, doesn't it?" Alex could have given a bitter laugh. That was putting it lightly. Cas hesitated. "How do you feel about him being here again?"

How did she feel about that? Dad was above ground now, but... he wasn't the same John Winchester he'd once been. Who he was now remained to be seen. As such, Alex wet her lips as her thoughts wandered. "I—I dunno... nervous, I guess." There was a long pause as memories came at her. "He went through a lot in Hell. He's the same guy but… also not really." Worries rose. But Alex pushed them away, knowing it wasn't time to face those, knowing that Dad might never wake up at all. "I'm just glad he's not in Hell anymore suffering like he was." A small mercy, and still, her heart sank in frustration and sadness. "We... tried to find Adam," she admitted quietly, thinking of her half-brother who was still burning possibly would be for the rest of time. "That's what we were doing when you showed up, actually."

Cas sensed the inner battle of blame and guilt. "Even if you could get to the cage… it would take very special circumstances indeed to free your half-brother," he told her gravely. "And by now... I fear he'd be emotionally and mentally shattered beyond repair."

She thought the same thing. "Yeah." But it didn't make the failure any easier to swallow or the pain any easier to carry. "But I had to try," she said faintly, lost in thought for a moment. She just had to be thankful she and Dad had made it. That had to be enough for now. Instinctively, Alex knew that this subject would be one that would always leave her sore. Adam. The brevity of his existence and the unfairness of the cards he'd been dealt weighed on her anew. And Alex pushed the weight away, unable to dwell in such a guilty place. Instead, she reminded herself that miracles did happen. After all, here she was alive again. Itchy, dirty, breathing, disheveled—but alive. And as she studied Cas once more, she noticed anew how he was just as filthy as her. Wait. Without his Grace working right, he would probably stay dirty... unless they got traditional about it. A weary smile breaking her face despite everything, Alex patted his shoulder. "Come on. We gotta get washed off."

Even as she stood up, Cas remained seated. "I… don't know if I can walk," he said doubtfully, eyeing the nearby bathroom door like it was an impossible feat.

Alex held her hands out for him. "That's what you got me for."

He did not look sure about it, but after a hesitation, he gently grasped her hands and with a long grunt and both of them working at it together, he got to his feet and she quickly slipped over to stand at his side, supporting him as best as she could. "Everything hurts…" he mumbled as they made the slow journey to the ensuite bathroom.

"I know," she commiserated, even though she felt... well, basically fine. Her body felt better than it had in a long time.

Once in the spacious bathroom, Alex had Cas sit down on the side of the large jet tub. The bathroom also had a large standing shower which was where Alex was headed. But first, she had to get Cas undressed. He could barely stand, how was he gonna undress himself? She knelt and pulled off his shoes, his socks, then stood and bent over him as he remained seated, unbuckling his pants. She glanced at his face, thinking of how this might be quite scandalous in another context. He seemed to be thinking the same thing and was watching her with a soft, almost humorous smile. When her eyebrows moved into a questioning curious expression, his smile took on a coy affect. "I always enjoy when you undress me."

An off-guard, impressed grin cracked her face. "Was that… a joke?"

He shook his head, suddenly quite serious and smouldering without trying to be. "No, most certainly not."

Alex swallowed. Well damn. His gaze was intense and ten years was a long time to be without him in that way. In his current condition… obviously that was going to wait for an indeterminate amount of time. But it didn't stop her mind from wandering that way. Her mind swam in memories of hot bodies entwined and moving together to find the climb to ecstasy. His mouth swallowing her, his hands sliding over her bare, greedy skin… oh boy. Calm down, Alex.

She cleared her throat self-consciously, chiding herself, then pushed his shirt off of him along with his jacket and coat too. His tie, which had been singed along the neck, fell away, broken and burnt to shreds. Shirtless and sitting on the edge of the tub and holding himself there with his familiar big hands, he looked absolutely sexy in all his dirt-smeared, burnt glory. His defined chest, strong arms, wild hair… the fine layer of ash and the smears of dirt couldn't ever make him look worse. In fact, they added some kind of primal, organic appeal and Alex felt herself yearning. Everywhere. Mind, body, and heart. Making herself remember that she was on a mission to clean him off not get him off, Alex again cleared her throat and then unzipped his pants and started helping him out of them. She tried to be businesslike, she really did. But it was a challenge. It took a little teamwork with Cas moving like an old man and Alex trying not to gawk. She couldn't stop taking him in though and marveling at every aspect that Hell had caused her to forget.

Once he was totally naked, Alex padded over and turned on the shower then let the water warm up as she snatched off her own clothes and tossed them toward the trash can—they were all beyond salvage. She forgot to be self-conscious until she turned around and caught Cas staring at her bare body. And then she realized his stare had a note of horror to it. Frowning, she tried to follow his gaze. "What?" And then she saw. Over her left-hand hip area, his hand print was burned into pale skin and had scarred bright, raised red. So shocked at the sight of it, she could only stare. It was just like Dean's, when he'd had it, anyway. And then she realized she didn't just have one of Cas's hand prints on her. She had two. On the front of her right-hand shoulder, there was another huge hand print. He'd held her from behind, arms criss-crossed, hands burning into her as they had ripped out of Hell. And now she realized why his touch had burned. "Oh." She touched fingertips to the hand print on her shoulder and was amazed, not horrified. He had pulled her out of Hell. With his own two hands. And she loved him so goddamn much.

"Did… do they hurt?" he asked in thinly veiled worry.

She shook her head immediately. "No." On contrary, the skin there had no feeling in it. She was used to scars after her life, and while it was a shock to suddenly have these two new ones, she took it in stride... in fact, an amusement came to mind: "Hey, this way you always have your hands on me, right?" Cas remained tentative, even as Alex realized... her old scars were not there. Wait a minute. She looked at her left side. Then her right side. And she panicked slightly. No demon ward tattoo to be found. She frowned, realizing the slightly dull pressure in the back of her skull was there again. Oh my god you've got to be kidding me. Her wisdom teeth were back, her tattoo was gone. And a sudden possibility dawned on her with alarming speed. "Cas, is this body… even mine?" she asked, suddenly completely unsure of what had happened. She'd been dead so long, how had he taken whatever rotten flesh she was sure was left behind and reanimated her? It was enough to make her feel sick with sudden terror.

"Of course it's your body," he said, then paused, looking her over closely. "And… if I'm not mistaken… you now have some of my Grace in you because I… well, I had to recreate parts of you, in a way."

Some of his Grace in her? Recreate her? "Wh-what does that even mean?" Alex asked, intimidated and awed at the same time.

"It's nothing to worry about, I promise," he assured. "You're you. Just… the factory reset version with some Grace thrown in there, if you will." Alex balked at his informal word choices. Where had he learned that? He gave a sheepish smile. "I may or may not have picked up some slang because of spending so much time with Dean in Purgatory."

Damn. Oh yeah. Alex blinked rapidly, trying to get everything straight in her mind. "Right," she said softly. Life was a confused jumble for her after the roller-coaster she'd been through the past year or so. She really needed to fill in the blanks—she felt like she was missing so much information. But for now… there was hot water wasting in the shower behind her. She let out a shaky breath and forced a smile. Being clean would help her feel a little less disoriented. "Come on, big boy, shower time."

She pulled him up and he shuffled, bracing himself against the wall and then the shower door. "Ung…" he grunted.

"Easy, easy…" Alex counseled, stepping in with him and forcefully turning him away from the jet of water before pulling the shower door shut behind them. "Try not to let water hit you there, okay?" His wound getting wet would only make things worse. He stood under the water as it hit his back and he looked utterly exhausted and sick. One hand weakly leaned against the shower wall to support him and Alex felt another jolt of fear. He really did not look good. His breathing was shallow, his expression constantly strained. Worry ate her alive. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay, Cas?" she asked in a whisper, touching him with soft fingertips and praying that he would be. If he'd put part of himself into her to heal her and that ended up killing or hurting him in the long run, she would never be able to forgive herself.

His eyes looked up from where they had been staring in a glazed-over fashion. "You don't need to worry," he assured her in that gravel voice she loved so much.

She shook her head. "Yeah right."

Castiel looked utterly touched. "Thank you," he said softly, reaching for her feebly and touching the curve of her waist. "For worrying about me. For… for loving me."

His sweet, unassuming way touched her to her core. "Always," she whispered, and then she hugged him gently, kissing the skin of his neck and closing her eyes against the water spraying everywhere. He turned his head down toward her and for a minute, they stayed like that, water rinsing them of the initial layer of grime. Alex couldn't help but think about the angel who had pulled her entire family, save Adam, out of Hell. How can I ever repay him?

Alex pulled back from Cas and gave him a soft, weak smile that he returned. She wondered what was next for them and what the future held. He traced some wet hairs away from her face and despite everything… he looked happy. She realized she felt happy, too. The future was unknown, but they were together. Relief wasn't a vast enough word, and suddenly she found herself grinning fully and holding his face in both her hands. It was hitting her again: she was no longer in Hell. The nightmare was over. He grinned too, a longsuffering love crinkling up his eyes and softening his haggard features as he weakly touched the side of her head in a sweet, brief caress. Dirty trails of water ran down their bodies. Reluctant to take her eyes off his, Alex still decided it was time to get to work. "All right, buddy, that hair of yours looks dirty." She grabbed the nearby bottle of shampoo—green apple, the Suave brand she'd used her whole life. She doled out a huge handful of bright lime-colored gel and then smacked it onto Cas's head and began to lather. She grinned as Cas made a face at her ministrations—he frowned for a minute, trying to decide what he thought about the sensation, then he seemed to decide he liked it.

He leaned into her scrubbing fingers and began to enjoy. "That smells nice," he commented thoughtfully. "Like your hair does sometimes." He recognized the smell of her shampoo. Of course he did. As she continued to scrub his hair like she was trying to get a stain out, he seemed very awed indeed by the experience. "I've never washed my hair before."

She stopped and gave him a pointed look. "That's disgusting," she joked, then chuckled and carefully pushed him back a bit so that his hair could rinse clean. She pressed her hand over his right one, which was pushed to his wound. The only thing she could really do to help keep it from getting wet and stinging. Suds ran down over his face and he sputtered—Alex tried not to laugh. "Cas, tilt your head back," she said, watching him with utter fondness. She touched his chin with a finger, helping him tip his head to avoid a mouthful and eyeful of sudsy water. Once he'd rinsed, Alex pulled him forward again. Wiping his sudsy face off with her palm, Alex made sure his hair had rinsed clean and began to wash him all over with soap. She would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the feeling of his muscles and skin underneath her hands.

Cas became dejected as she scrubbed him clean from his ears to his toes. "I feel useless," he lamented after she was nearly done, watching her guiltily.

She shook her head. "Everyone has their off days, Cas." But, she was wondering. How long would this last? How injured was he, truly? She hesitated, soap in hand and eyes flicking all over. He looked clean now. But that wound looked bad. And maybe she could help. Tentative and hesitant to suggest it, she cleared her throat. "Cas, you could… could soul touch me or whatever, right?" she asked. His shocked eyes snapped to look into hers. "And that'd patch you right back up?"

Castiel looked utterly sickened and gut-punched. "How can you even suggest that?" he asked in a soft, breathless voice. He looked terrified and shocked. "After what happened last time…?" A knowing, pained look was shared between the angel and the human.

It took Alex a minute to answer him. "Just can't stand to see you in pain if you don't have to be."

Cas was very upset. "I'll take the pain," he said gruffly. "I won't do that to you again," he insisted. "Ever."

Rueful, Alex drew her mouth into a line. "Okay, okay, calm down." She sighed and began to scrub herself with soap like it was a race. "Go ahead and enjoy your suffering." Cas seemed to have this never-ending drive to be a martyr and sometimes it really pissed her off. Once she'd soaped off, she dumped a bunch of shampoo into her hand and washed her hair briskly. Cas watched her the entire time with a tense look on his face.

"You understand why I can't, don't you?" he finally asked in a quiet voice as she rinsed her hair out.

She ran fingers through her hair, feeling for any leftover suds of shampoo. "Yeah." That was one of the moments she'd relived in Hell over and over again. Him killing her. "I understand why you wouldn't wanna do that." She found his eyes and held his gaze, shaking her head no just a little. "But what happened before… that won't ever happen again."

Steam curled up around them. Cas let go of his wound and took hold of her chin, raising her head so that she had to look in his eyes. "How do you know?" he asked in a whisper. "Tell me how you know."

His face was close, handsome, and dripping with water. His upper legs touched her upper legs, his chest brushed against hers. "Because I do," she whispered back, the owner of a fast-beating heart.

Castiel's eyes looked into hers fiercely, and then without warning he was pulling on the back of her neck then kissing her hard and passionate. A soft sound of surprise and relief escaped out of her mouth as she took hold of him and kissed him back, readily matching his energy. She hadn't felt this in so long—a decade—and it was even better than she remembered. Water streamed over them and their bodies crowded together closely. His kisses became more and more invasive and passionate, creating a drunk feeling. And when he stumbled a little and she found her back against the shower wall, the kiss ended. She looked into his eyes breathlessly, and he was panting too. His eyes were as dark as midnight, promising sinful things. "If I felt better, I would ravish you right here against this wall, Alex Winchester," he murmured deeply, making her shiver despite the heat. Abruptly regretful, Cas winced. "But unfortunately I'm…" he looked down at himself and said what she already knew, "Very injured."

She had already known that, so Alex nodded despite the feeling of disappointment. She would survive but goddamn, she wanted him so bad. "Raincheck," she said, forcing herself to center.

Cas looked immediately confused. "What's a raincheck?"

It was impossible not to love him. "It means you owe it to me later," she explained, and put a bit of a sultry edge on her voice.

"Oh." Understanding and definitely hearing that sultry tone, Cas returned her soft-eyed smile. "In that case, I agree to this raincheck and I assure you…" his voice softened and darkened some more. "I will not disappoint you in what is owed." He gave her another kiss—soft, sensual, captivating, so loving.

She flushed a little as he drew back. He undid her with his eyes alone. "I know you won't," she said, indeed looking forward to the inevitable moment, whenever it would come. "But it's okay. Being near to you again is enough." It really was. After so long in Hell, after loneliness and despair and crushed dreams and separations… him here with her was the most precious thing she had ever been given privilege of. As such, she circled her arms around him gently and hugged herself to him, shut her eyes. Breathed. She could stay here with him forever, just feeling the rise and fall of his chest, the firm softness of his skin, the beat of his heart.

Cas swayed a little in the embrace. "Um. Alex?"

"Hmm?" she asked sleepily.

He sounded strained. "I'm sorry but… I really need to lay down."

Alex drew back and gave him an apologetic expression. "Sorry, Cas." He was probably in so much pain. She led him out of the shower after turning the water off. "Come on. Careful not to slip."

After getting him out and toweling him off and ruffling his hair until it stuck up, she haphazardly pulled a bathrobe onto herself, helped him to the bed, stripped off the dirty covers, and brought out another clean comforter from the closet of the room. While Alex bustled around trying to towel dry her hair really fast, she looked at the selection of men's clothing that was in this room's closet. It was all for someone small, Kevin's size, not Cas's. She peeked into the bathroom again at the burnt clump of Cas's clothing that was piled up beside the tub. Then she saw a glinting silver circle that had fallen out of the trench coat pocket. She wandered over, stooped and picked it up—Dad's wedding band. Well, now it was Cas's wedding band. Given pause as she thought of him carrying this and placing deep and tender meaning on this object… Alex smiled to herself, noting how the size was big. She'd never seen him wear it, but even just imagining him trying it on made her heart swell. She heard him give a dissatisfied little grunt in the room over and remembered herself. She put the ring into her bathrobe pocket and hurried that way. He was sprawled in the bed where she'd deposited him and he was totally naked and his hair was a little damp still.

"I'll go get you some of Dean's clothes," Alex said even as she helped prop him up against the headboard with pillows more comfortably. His neck hadn't looked comfortably. "I think you two are about the same size."

Cas looked grumpy. "No, I'm fine like this," he mumbled. "Dressing takes too much work."

Alex stood back and gave him a coy look. "Naked angel in my bed?" She looked him over and let a little smirk play on her lips. "That seems like a dangerous idea…"

He had that tiny smile back on his face. "Are you objectifying me?"

Alex met his gaze with hers. When had he learned to joke and tease? It was so endearing, so sweet. She bent and leaned a little closer to him beside the bed. "Maybe..." She kissed him on the mouth softly, then pulled the covers up over him to his waist, making him modest and warmer, too.

Cas's smile was fading in favor of a more somber expression. He caught her hand. "I also just don't want you to leave me again, even for a minute," he confessed. "Not yet." Oh Cas. She understood and it made her sad. They were both so scared to lose each other again. Would they ever not feel that way? He looked at her like he was going to plead for something. "Will you lay with me?" he asked, like he was fearful she would say no. She was already headed into the space beside him and snuggling up there, wiggling up under the covers next to his naked body. And when she got there, in tandem, they breathed out mutual relief. Cas's tense body relaxed when she was nestled beside him.

Alex reached over and laced her fingers through his over his stomach, careful of his wound. Her damp head rested on his arm and his head was turned so that their faces were close. For a long minute, their eyes did the talking. His thumb gently moved back and forth over her hand gentle, soft, and slow. "I feel like we haven't been together for a damn lifetime," Alex finally confessed in a whisper. She understood that not even a full month had passed here but the length of time that had passed down under felt real. And she didn't know how to come back from it. "I was in Hell for so long…"

Cas's expression was pained. "I'm so sorry, Alex. I didn't find out until tonight what had happened."

"I knew you'd come as soon as you found out," she said slowly in a pained voice, "but why did it take so long? I mean… why did it take so long?" She didn't understand why no one had realized she was gone as in dead that whole time. It hurt.

Cas was apologetic and sad. "I would have known sooner but I was in a quantum superposition and I cut myself off from every communication but yours for safety." He abruptly let loose a soft exhale of despair. "If Crowley hadn't captured me and taunted me… I still might not know." Alex swallowed and held his hand a little harder. Well, okay, she now got why Cas didn't know, but why hadn't Sam and Dean figured it out? "I'm so sorry it wasn't sooner," Cas said, bringing her out of her thoughts. He hesitated, looking her over carefully. She swore those baby blues saw right through her. "You're acting very strong and like you're all right, but… are you?"

She considered. "Not totally sure how I feel, honestly." However, Alex had already decided something: "But whatever it takes, I will be all right." She'd come too far not to be. And being here beside Cas made it almost all better, at least on the surface. Knowing her brothers were right down the hall with her dad… tears sprang to her eyes. "I'm just so glad it's over," she whispered, and Cas's arm tightened around her securely. "But now I'm scared you're not gonna be okay," she confessed. "You almost killed yourself over this, Cas."

He didn't deny it. "In time I'll be fine, I'm sure." His hand let go of hers and he reached up to touch her face. "You know that I would die for you," he said in the softest and closest voice. "Give anything to see you to safety. I only wish I could have saved you from the pain you endured. I would take it from you in a heartbeat if I could." His fingers slipped into her hair. "You of all people have been through enough," he whispered in a trembling voice.

Her chest clenched at the love in his eyes. She was abruptly overtaken by a wave of absolute crushing emotion and she clung to him closer for the sudden fear he would evaporate. "God Cas, I missed you," she choked out, feeling petrified by shadowed memories. She realized she was breathing harder from the ghost of panic. "S-sometimes in Hell it was like my entire life was a dream," she remembered in a tight, hollow voice. "Like Hell was the only real thing. After awhile I forgot what you looked like. How you sounded." It had all slipped away in favor of pain, and fire, and screams. Everything. Except one thing that hung around her neck close to her heart. She touched fingers to the little penny around her neck. "But I always had this." The belief he would come get her. The love of an angel. Even in the few times when she forgot her brothers and sometimes even didn't know her own dad or even her own name… she'd remembered what that penny meant and clung to that for life.

Cas held her tighter as best he could in his weakened state. "I never should have left your side," he said, eyes brimming with utter regret. He shook his head. "The angel tablet doesn't matter, Alex. Nothing matters but you. I won't leave you again. I can't."

Her eyes were becoming like his. "I don't want you to, honestly," she confessed. And it felt selfish to need him to stay, but she had had enough of the back and forth.

So had he. "Then it's decided," he said firmly and quietly. "I'm staying here with you, come what may." He touched the circle of copper around her neck with gentle fingers and then looked into her eyes. "Where I belong."

He did belong there. And hearing him say that gave her life. But she hesitated because she had been so hurt in the past. Yes, she loved him. Trusted him again, mostly. But she was cautious. And there had to be ground rules now. She had to clear the air about a couple things. "Cas, if this is gonna work… I think we can both agree that we gotta stop keeping things from each other." Not just him. Her too. Lies and deception and hiding things had almost destroyed them. "We can't lie to each other anymore, ever."

Castiel didn't hesitate to reply. "Alex, believe me, I'm done keeping things from you. I've been done with that. I've seen where it takes me. What it does." He found her hand and held it there on his chest. "I'll always tell you the truth. I won't hide things from you ever again. I give you my most solemn vow."

Alex swallowed hard and nodded agreement. He was deadly serious and so was she. "I won't hide things either," she promised. "I hate hiding things. Especially from you." Her fingers tightened in his and she felt her heart lurch. "I love you, Cas. And I'm here with you. But I just need to say this now. I just gotta put it out there." She'd thought about this a lot when working for Crowley. She had planned to say this to Cas when they got out of Purgatory, but that hadn't happened quite as she had pictured. So it had to be now, and she meant every single word. "If you ever hurt me again while you're you… it'll be over." Cas's face registered surprise and she was utterly grim. "I won't stay this time. I won't. Because what happened back then wasn't okay."

There was a long beat of tense silence. And then: "No. It wasn't." Castiel was utterly grave and broken. "There's… no excuse and no way to rationalize it. That shouldn't have happened. In any universe or any version of reality. And it did." Exactly how she felt. They were both silent and troubled for a long couple of seconds. "What I did haunts me," Cas confessed softly. "I… I feel like I became a monster. I destroyed what is most precious to me. I still don't understand." His distracted, distant eyes came back to her. "But I do know you should have left me then. You should never have… have forgiven or trusted me again." Maybe not, but she had and did. Cas knew that and seemed utterly thankful for it, if unsure of how to accept it completely. "I didn't deserve a second chance then and I still struggle with guilt over it but…" he shook his head and refocused. "I promise. I won't betray you again or hurt you again. Ever. I won't."

She believed him. Felt it in her bones. Banked everything she had on it. "I know you won't," she whispered. In that moment, everything was safe with him. He was himself, she was her. They had climbed a mountain of their own making and made it down the other side. Banged up and damaged but they had made it.

Cas studied her for a long, unsure moment. "How can you still love me?" he questioned in honest, earnest puzzlement. "After everything?"

From an outside perspective, she knew it wouldn't make sense. Logically, it seemed to defy reason. But some things couldn't be explained by rationale. "That's just how it is," she murmured with a little smile. "And maybe it doesn't make sense." She paused, drinking in his face and letting a finger trace from his hairline to his temple to his cheek to his jawline. "It doesn't need to make sense to anyone but us."

Cas's expression wavered. He cupped the side of her face with his warm, rough hand. "I could lay in your arms forever," he whispered, forehead brushing against hers. "The most perfect place I've ever found is being near you."

"God Cas," she whispered back, her heart doing cartwheels inside of her chest. "You say the most romantic shit."

He touched the curve of her waist underneath the blanket, a gentle caress coupled with a cheeky comment and half-grin. "And you have quite a way with words, yourself." He kissed her softly, his hand traveling down over the curve of her hip and then pausing when it ran over the lump in her pocket. He recognized that shape and pulled out his wedding band.

"It fell out of the trench coat," Alex explained as he pulled it up to look at it. She took it from him and turned it over to look at it in the light. Her eyes flickered to him tentatively. "Do you… ever think about wearing it?"

"Constantly," he replied earnestly, surprising her and making her heart clench. "I've… tried it on a few times," he said, which she already knew from its size.

And she thought about it a minute more then gently slid the ring onto the third finger of his left hand. A strip of silver encased his tan finger and she couldn't quite contain how she felt about seeing it on him for the first time. Wow. "…That makes you look like you're really, actually married," she breathed softly, a little dazed.

His gaze held hers tenderly. "I am really, actually married," he said, then that secretive, roguish little smile pulled at the edge of his mouth. "You were there. Perhaps you remember."

Jesus Christ, I love when he jokes with me. There had been a time when he'd had the Will of Heaven so far up his ass he hadn't even known what a joke was. And now he was turning into quite the little comedian. "I was there," she said. Parts of that whirlwind, impulsive day were softer now in her mind a few years later. A little fuzzy. But she remembered the important parts. Including vows they'd made. She wondered if he remembered them, too. "Wherever you go," she murmured, looking at that ring on his hand and then running her fingers over it. Her eyes drifted up to his.

"Whatever you face," he replied softly, like they were the most sacred words in the entire universe.

It was enough to bring her to her knees. Almost four full years later and here they were, still in love. Still standing, however battered. Honestly… Alex felt deeper in with him than ever before. She'd spent so long keeping their marriage a secret or being yanked apart from him that it almost felt like they had been playing before. Like being married had only been a dream in their minds—a fantasy they had used to make it through the tough times. But today, this… it felt different. They had gone through the trials and tests. And they were still in this. Choosing to move forward together. From a first meeting in a barn where she tried to shoot him on sight… to this. And because it had become something she associated with them, she lifted up her smallest finger and held it out to him, beckoning him to just let her know, just one more time, that it was real and he was hers. "So I know you mean it," she whispered, both playful and intense.

Cas knew what to do and his pinky finger looped around hers then held tightly. Fondness, mirth, affection, and deep love all rested in his eyes. "I'm forever bound," he whispered back, a reference to the first time he had ever been asked to pinky swear and she had tricked him, saying the little gesture was on the level with a soul deal, basically. Leaning in closer, she kissed him slow and soft, gentle, relishing the way his warm breath hit against her lips and the immediate reaction her body felt at his touch. His hand came to caress the side of her face and tangle in her hair as they shared kisses sweet as the sighing spring breeze. She propped up a little on her arm so that he laid on his back and didn't have to strain himself.

Castiel's eyes fell closed and drifted back open over and over as they kissed each other at a heady, slow pace—his hands slowly wandered to and fro between the back of her head, the sides of her face, the curves of her shoulders. Every texture his fingertips found was more entrancing than the last. A heartbeat or two after he closed his eyes to savor the sensation of feeling her more completely, he would open them again to catch a glimpse of what she looked like when kissing him—invested, emotional, and beautiful. Her hands and fingers swept over his face again and again, touches that silently witnessed to how she treasured him above everything. When her hand crept into the hair at the side of his head and clenched gently, Cas let out a soft gasp and Alex gently sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, an unexpected and erotic action that sent the angel's blood pumping thicker.

Her lips pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth as he breathed raggedly from increasing arousal—his eyes felt heavy and remained half-lidded as her mouth forged a sloppy, slow trail over his cheek, his jaw, then the space just below his ear. Her mouth began to leave kisses on his neck and Cas's eyes fell closed in earnest—both from fatigue and bliss. Her soft lips and warm, wet mouth inspired tingling rushes of heat as she wandered his skin and awakened things that only existed in her embrace. He began to throb in earnest for her down low. This encounter, her kisses—they felt like the height of his existence. He was lost in her; his body seemed programmed to notice every small interaction her body shared with his: every brush of skin and every whispering wisp of hair as her soft, warm body leaned against his carefully—her scent of fresh shampoo and soap. Her every little inhale and exhale. He could feel her heartbeat pulsing through her veins and that was the most sacred thing to him: his Alex, alive and well and here with him.

As he became more and more physically aroused and Alex's kisses became more and more soulful, Cas doubted how well this could work. He wanted to make love to her so badly but he didn't think he could do much of anything for her at present. After all, any small movement of his torso sent spikes of pain shooting through him. A little ashamed, Cas turned his head toward her and his nose buried in the hair just near her ear. "I can't really move," he said regretfully, hoping she would understand.

Alex drew back and looked him in the eye. Her thumbs brushed across his cheeks as her hands cupped his face. Her answer was exciting and mysterious and had him utterly transfixed. "You don't need to."

She bent close again and then shifted to straddle him very gingerly underneath the blanket then kissed him more and more: his neck, his ear, his jawline, and down. Her mouth, so slow and leisurely, was wandering to his shoulder, then his upper arm, giving kisses as she inhaled him and touched him in a way that seemed sensual and chaste all at once. Her eyes were closed—thick dark eyelashes set against fair skin. Castiel couldn't look away—and he reached out to touch her head gently in a soft caress. His wedding band glinted, catching his eye and surprising him. Inspiring a tug in the vicinity of his heart. Alex began to pepper his torso in soft fluttering kisses and she pressed the most cautious kisses near his wound, then kissed the tip of her finger and touched it whisper-soft against the wound just once while looking him in the eye. Cas's heart burst and then sped up… she began going lower and lower and Castiel was becoming more and more flustered and uncomfortable. He thought he knew what she was going to do even as she batted the blanket away. Her kisses and nips and little tongue nudges were traveling to his hipbones and the flat plane of skin between them. Her fingers traced little unconscious patterns and touches over his pubic bone, making him shiver and ache and clench his teeth in anticipation. Her fingernails raked ever so softly, and the sensations inspired by that were indescribable.

And then a soft exhale of surprise and ecstasy stole out of the angel's mouth when he was suddenly surrounded by warm, wet pressure where he ached so hard. He felt nothing but her mouth, tongue, her lips, even a little scraping from her teeth—and his head fell back as his eyes squeezed closed and he let out incoherent sounds. Slowly, up and down, her mouth traveled, her tongue tested, and Cas became utterly useless. "Oh, Alex—ah—that's…"

"Good?" she asked lowly, and her voice reverberated through him.

"Yes, hnng—very," he managed in a higher voice than usual. His hand clenched and unclenched over the skin of his own thigh as he tried to control himself—and she took that hand and placed it in her hair at the side of her head then held her hand over his—silently telling him to grab her hair. Carefully as he could in his half-brained state, Cas complied and let his fingers clench as she continued to perform oral sex on him. She had only done this for him a few times, and this time, she was pushing the envelope further—taking him in deeper than he even knew was possible. Slowly and carefully, she moved further and further down, enveloping him in impossibly tight, hot rapture—it felt like all the way. "Oh, ah—" Cas just managed in a strangled whisper, and his fingers tightened hard in her hair when all he could feel was her surrounding him. How was she doing that? A low sound growled in the base of her throat and she slid up again, the friction making Cas's vision explode. He heard himself make nonsensical noises as the softness of her clever tongue circled and caressed the tip of him. He panted with a heaving chest and then looked down, watched how she did that to him. He was beside himself at the sight of her loving him that way.

And then her eyes flicked up and met his, startling and arousing him further. A certain primal urge flushed Castiel at the same time that love exploded deep inside of his chest. He wanted to say a thousand things to her. But then she went down again and all he could muster was an incoherent cry of, "Ungh, uh!" as his eyes closed and his head fell back and arched into the pillow.

Her fingers slid down his thigh and then traced over the ultra-sensitive skin of his testicles, making him shudder. Watching her breathlessly, Cas stiffened and held his breath when she released his length from her mouth and seized it with a hand instead, and then descended lower and—"oh, ah!" He was very surprised indeed. Her tongue was exploring the place her fingers had just touched and he could barely function or remember who he even was as his brain popped like fireworks. Her hand pumped over him slowly as her other hand softly left experimental circles and lines against the fragile skin further below. How had she thought of such a thing? Dizzy at her touch and then further frustrated and pleased when she took his length into her mouth again, Cas trembled. As she continued to slide her mouth up and down over him, he noticed how one of her hands was underneath herself. His eyes glanced into her face—her eyes were closed now, she looked lost in pleasure as her mouth did such sinful things to him. His mouth dropped open softly.

"Are you… are you touching yourself?" he asked faintly, a little surprised and further aroused.

Her eyes opened and she paused her work. He recognized slight bashfulness on her face. "Um… yes?"

He swallowed hard, wanting her even more now. "That's… very seductive," he managed thickly.

She chuckled and then prepared to continue. But Cas caught her face in his hand and made a desperate proposition. "Make love to me, please," he whispered, because he needed nothing more in the world but to be inside of her, with her.

She hesitated. "…Are you sure you can?" Cas looked down at himself—didn't she see his very prominent and functional erection? She saw his gaze and what it implied and grinned suddenly, amused. "I just mean… I don't wanna hurt you," she clarified, then looked meaningfully at his wound.

Oh. Of course that was what she meant. Castiel mulled it over briefly and did think perhaps it wasn't the best idea… but he needed her. Now. "Just be gentle," he said, although he wasn't sure how gentle he could be because of the feelings overflowing inside. His wound be damned… passion ruled his mind. Pain would have to be an afterthought.

Alex straightened up and stood on her knees momentarily, untying the bathrobe and then letting it slide off of her. She struck Cas dumb all over again. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, and his hand prints on her were both amazing and grief-inducing. She should have never been in Hell at all. But she had been and now she bore marks he had made. His eyes drank her in as she moved up to straddle him; his heart rate quickened at the thought of what was about to happen. She laid over him carefully, holding herself away so that her weight didn't press down on him or his injury—and with a little wiggle and nudge, she positioned herself and then sank down slowly. Cas shuddered as she surrounded him in unmistakably, pressured warmth. She abruptly breathed out hard and shut her eyes—one of her hands clutched into his shoulder harder than the other one as she quickly lost the composure she'd had.

"Oh Cas," she whispered, expression screwed up. A soft, whimpering moan sounded in the base of her throat and that was the moment when Castiel realized this newly formed body of hers had never been penetrated before. Her breathing was shaky and uneven, she held still on him and drew back enough to find his gaze. Although his limbs were weak and exhausted, his arms held her and he refused to let go. Her eyes held vast emotion and slight fear. Something broke in her expression. "I thought I lost you," she choked out. Not what he had expected her to say.

His heart felt like it grew twenty sizes. "No," he replied in quiet fierceness, meaning every word and holding her gaze in tender severity. "I'll always find you. Always, Alex." He touched her face and saw his wedding ring again, surprised at it again. Alex felt the cool strip of metal against her skin—she turned her face into his hand and kissed his palm while shutting her eyes and steadying her breathing. Cas felt tears prick his eyes as he thought of everything they had gone through both separately and together. And yet here they were… despite the odds, despite everything. "Kiss me," he requested in a suddenly choked up whisper—he would have moved to kiss her, of course, but he couldn't even sit up unassisted much less crane his neck well. It was no matter. She leaned close and answered his request immediately with a passion that matched exactly what he felt inside. Their hands moved to hold each others' faces in fierce tenderness. And then she began to move on him ever so gently, he wasn't so sure if her carefulness was for his benefit or for hers, but pain and pleasure alike shattered him and made him groan loudly.

He tried to force himself to ignore the pain in his lower abdomen, but he couldn't—and Alex saw and sat back a little, letting her legs fold on either side of him as she sat up fully with him deep inside. Cas's hands skimmed her thighs and curved around her butt as she moved gently and carefully. He gazed up at her in a daze of pleasure and agony—everything hurt and he couldn't hide it, but this hurt less. Alex stopped, concern twisting her features. "This is hurting you," she protested, eyeing his body with vast worry and dread. "I could tear your stitches." She hesitated and the took his left hand and then pulled it up to touch her in the center of the chest. Cas's breath caught. "Why don't you?" she asked in a whisper. "I'll be fine, you know I will be."

His heart rate screamed faster. "Alex, I can't," he insisted, so afraid to touch her soul after what had happened last time.

Alex leaned down over him again until her breasts brushed against his chest. She still held his hand against her beating heart. "I can't stand to see you in pain, please," she whispered, and he saw that she meant it so much she was teary-eyed. "Just touch it a little."

He shook his head and swallowed. "It doesn't work like that; I don't want to hurt you."

Alex held his gaze and begged him silently with eyes he had a very difficult time denying. "Just this once," she coaxed, then kissed his mouth softly. "I'll feel better if I know you're not gonna bleed out in bed with me and die, all right?" She kissed him again, a little longer, and pulled his hand against her chest a little harder. "I trust you, Cas," she breathed when she pulled back, resting her forehead to his and then moving her hips softly over his again, making him whimper at the feeling of being so deeply buried inside. "And I want you to do this." Her hand pushed his hand harder against her sternum. "What I have to give, I want you to have. So fucking take it. Please." She was frustrated and desperate alike. He heard that.

And Cas didn't truly want to. But, he also knew that if some enemy such as Crowley or Naomi were to appear, he would be defenseless. An easy kill. A compromised guardian. That couldn't happen. But the soul touch would hurt her—and it would drain her. Yes, it would repair him the best way there was to repair an angel. But it felt selfish. However, she was waiting for this and insisting she wanted to help him. In a way, he needed to do this in order to show himself and her both that what had happened before on that horrible, fateful day had been an accident and a mistake. All in all, he was utterly not in favor of doing this. But he gave in with eight soft, scared words.

"Tell me to stop if it's too much." She nodded and breathed in deeply, her hand sliding to his wrist as she braced herself. He would be quick. This would not last long. He wanted to minimize the pain. Carefully—so carefully—Castiel initiated the soul touch, letting his fingertips and then hand delve into her. Her teeth gritted back an immediate scream and her eyes squeezed close. Cas's mouth dropped open and eyebrows slammed together as his hand found what it was looking for—the brilliant light and energy of her soul—and her scream dropped away completely in favor of a soft whimper of amazement and surprise. Entranced, Cas stared up at her as he was given the privilege of touching her soul itself. Where he was weak, she gave him strength—where he lacked, she filled in the void. And then without permission, his Grace did what it never had. It reached out to match what his hand was doing, it leaned forward to brush against her, and without warning, everything that Castiel was touched everything that Alex was—energy upon energy, spirit upon spirit. On the most basic, supernatural level, they were suddenly twined together completely and thrown into another plane of existence for a moment that felt like it lasted forever. Cas didn't know how to find himself anymore when that happened—he was her, she was him, there was no separation at all. It was purity and love, it was completion and ecstasy, it was the rapture, the beginning, the end, the middle, the smallest detail and the big, grand picture. It was everything; indescribable. It left Castiel floating somewhere far away surrounded by all-consuming light and ocean-deep love and a field of endless yellow flowers…

Love. Wonder. Eternity.

The laughter of what sounded like children.

Sunlight glinting into his eyes, a breeze sighing at his back.

Windchimes and her smile against his ear.

Eyes as green and dappled as a secret forest.

And in that moment, incredible, devastating ecstatic wonder made him forget himself and everything except a single name and face. Hers.

Happiness drenched him like a monsoon and he burst everywhere, unable to contain what she did to him and how she made him feel. Complete, safe, wanted, needed, loved forever. Nothing was in his control, everything belonged to her, and he knew what he always had: he loved her profoundly, completely, and beyond time.

And then the moment was over—he was back in the bunker and she was on top of him holding him tightly and crying out in unmistakable bliss and so was he as their bodies writhed together in a familiar rhythm. And even though Castiel barely remembered who he was, he was aware that every single glass object nearby was shattering, every light was blowing out, the electricity died completely, the bunker alarm began to wail at top volume. But it didn't matter and he didn't care. Riotous, relentless white-hot pleasure avalanched through his atoms, racing through his veins, pulsing out to the cries of carnality he couldn't stop. Cas and Alex held onto each other tightly and came helplessly from the intensity of whatever had just happened—Grace upon soul had triggered something astounding—and Alex sounded nearly scared because her abrupt climax was so strong and raw. With a shaking hand, Cas gripped her by the back of the neck to steady and reassure her. Even as his vision exploded and his mind failed him, he concentrated on her, on giving everything back to her, to showing her absolute wonder. His strength had returned and his wound was a memory—he held her hard as such, crushing her against him, helping her ride out the bliss as it continued on and on. Her fingers clutched into him, her gasping mouth was smashing into his shoulder, and he pushed hard and deep as many more times as he was able before he had nothing left.

And then as quickly as it had begun, it ended. Panting, Alex collapsed over him limply. She said nothing, but even her ragged breaths made her sound thunderstruck by what had just happened. Out of breath as well but renewed and amazed, Cas moved her messy hair away from the side of her face, peering at her in concern. Moonlight from the little skylight above the bed gave him slight ability to see her. She was flushed and appeared half-drunk but very content. The whine of the alarms carried on loudly. "Are you all right?" he asked softly. He wasn't really sure what had happened, but he knew he was taken aback and awed by it, too.

She looked exhausted but very happy indeed. "I'm…" she breathed in and out a few times. "Wow." She squinted at him in the dark and it must have been obvious that he was repaired and functional again. "I'm guessing it worked huh?" She smiled in a sort of silly, tired way at him. Cas leaned over and kissed his wife gently, adoring her.

"Yes," he said against her lips, forever grateful to her and newly amazed. "Thank you." He didn't know what had just happened or why he'd been given that vision nor what it meant. But he felt utterly satisfied and more deeply connected to her than ever. Reverent of what they shared, Cas was humble and reflective. In all the history of all the world, he didn't think anyone had ever felt the way he felt about this human laying in his arms.

And then there was a loud, startling pounding on the door which jarred the moment completely. "Hey!" Dean's worried voice thundered through the walls and door alike. "You guys okay in there?!"

Alex immediately cowered against Cas and clutched blanket to herself as she shrank. "Oh god, shit," she whispered, even as Cas looked at the door and moved two fingers lightly—it locked, preventing Dean from barging it.

"Um, fine, thank you," Cas called, then hesitated bashfully. "Sorry about that."

There was a long, confused silence. And then, Dean must have gotten it. "…Oh my fucking god, yes, of course, obviously." Alex slapped her hands over her face and moaned softly. Outside the room, Dean sounded thoroughly humiliated. "Just… keep it down, will ya? Goddamn. Light bulbs ain't free!" And then he left loudly. A few seconds later, the sirens stopped wailing and the power came back on, although none of the lights did. Sam must have flipped the breaker.

Alex's hands slowly moved away from her face and she abruptly laughed—embarrassed and sort of amused all at once. "Awkward," she commented, and she was so beautiful.

Cas smiled tenderly at her, drinking in her face for a long moment as he softly touched her cheek with fingertips. He was home now, he belonged. Everything felt right once more. And he would never let her fall again.

---

In a field of yellow flowers, Alex and Cas sat together, watching children run in the distance. She could hear them laughing gaily, and she knew that those were their children. Her heart was at bursting point… so full, so content, so happy.

"I met him, you know," she said softly, remembering the time traveling, nameless stranger. Above them, the sun was bright and the sky was beautiful blue. Puffy clouds hung in the sky like cotton. "Our son," Alex murmured, feeling very surreal about that term indeed because he wasn't even in existence yet. "He looked a lot like you." She stole a glance at Cas as she hid a little smile.

And then she was confused, because Castiel was looking at her in utter disgust. "I would never father a child with you," he said darkly, disdain dripping from his eyes and voice. "A human whore." Struck as if by a knife in her heart, Alex stared in shock and horror. How could he say such a thing? Cas was standing up over her even as the sky darkened and the laughter of the children became screams. The yellow flowers began to burst into flame even as blistering, mind-numbing heat set Alex's every inch on fire. And then she realized that she had never escaped Hell at all as it all closed in around her. "What?" Cas asked, grinning down at her wickedly. Only he wasn't Cas anymore. He was Crowley, and he was ten feet tall. "Did you really think you could escape, Alex love?"

Alex felt utterly sickened. "No, no!" she screamed, jumping up and running. But the ground was melting under her feet and she was suddenly drowning in blood-red water. She could hear the laughter of cackling demons all around. "No!" she sobbed in complete terror, thrashing and trying to find something to hold onto. But she sank no matter what. And then, on her arms, she felt iron vices clamp down. She fought with everything to escape. She heard her name being repeated over and over and over. In the distance. And then suddenly incredibly loud and close: "Alex, Alex!"

She awoke with a startled, terrified jolt and gasp, flailing with a heart that was jackhammering in her chest. Hell was replaced by something very curious indeed. Castiel was there with her, holding her steady as she panted with wide, panicked eyes. In bed. In the bunker. Not in Hell with Crowley. It was morning now—the light was filtering in through the little skylight above.

"It's all right," he told her, trying very hard to calm her down. And she realized it when he spoke. "I… I think you were having a nightmare." Pained on her behalf, already guessing what it had been about, Cas wrapped her closely in his arms. "I'm here," he whispered. "It's over."

But it wasn't over. Not really. And she cried and burrowed into his chest for a long moment as he comforted and soothed her. She focused on his warmth, his closeness, his familiar clean smell. And slowly, she gained composure and centered herself, sniffing as her tears ebbed. It had felt so real... it all felt so real.

And Alex pulled back, needing to look into Cas's blue eyes, her anchor. Cobalt stared back, and her racing heart continued to calm. Speechless for a moment, she touched his face—his familiar, beautiful face. And then hugged him closely, shuddering. She remembered her promise to herself: that no matter what, she would be all right somehow. That she'd make it through whatever fallout Hell left in her. Cas's arms tightened around her, reminding her that she was not alone. And that... that was worth everything to her.