Song Remains the Same

Chapter 125 / Crossroads

"Have you ever lost someone you loved and wanted one more conversation, one more chance to make up for the time when you thought they would be here forever? If so, then you know you can go your whole life collecting days, and none will outweigh the one you wish you had back."
- Mitch Albom

While Sam investigated the lower levels of the bunker, Cas and Alex stayed in the command center together. There, they sat closely at the long study table as Cas recounted how he had assisted the brothers a few months ago during one of their hunts—how he had decided to become a hunter and subsequently joined up with Sam and Dean on the road for a case that involved a series of very loony, grisly scenarios at an elderly retirement home. How during that hunt he'd come across John's journal and subsequently found some of Alex's drawings and writings therein. While some of this conversation was light and even amusing, the mood became increasingly morose as Cas remembered how, at that time, he'd truly believed Alex was dead and gone. Naomi's mind control was to blame of course, but nevertheless Cas still felt guilty and strange about not knowing on some basic level that Alex had actually been alive. Even though he didn't say that he felt ashamed about that, Alex sensed it and held his hand a little more firmly as a silent it's okay when he talked about that portion of the time she'd been gone for.

"And then, well, it all became too much for me when I found some poetry you had composed in my name," he said softly, continuing onward in a thoughtful, grim way as his eyes drifted around the table surface unseeingly. "What I planned to do next, it was very impulsive of me—very reckless." Alex's pulse picked up a little in fear for what he was about to reveal. He paused, eyes flickering to hers briefly, betraying his hesitance to confess what he was going to say next. "I—I decided I was going to travel into the past and change it all. Get you back one way or another. I, I realized I couldn't live without you. That even one more day with you gone would break me."

His eyes met hers fully and they were quietly intense blue oceans full of ceaseless devotion. The way he looked at her reminded her of a time that seemed forever ago when he had promised he would tear down the laws of nature if he had to in order to protect her. When he looked at her in that severely loving way, it made Alex feel many things. Castiel had always been committed to her protection and survival… almost at a frightening level. It was one of the most intense feelings she had ever known to realize the strength of his devotion. It riveted her, it scared her, it intimidated her, it made her feel full to the brim with love. His expression flickered and the intensity faded. "But before I went back in time… I went to a liquor store with intentions to get very, very drunk."

Alex felt herself frowning quizzically. "…Why?" Cas wasn't a man—he didn't turn to substances in times of duress. Or at least he never had before…

Cas thought about her question. "I… I couldn't handle how I was feeling," he somberly reflected. "It was like a huge hole had been ripped inside of me when I lost you. And nothing could fill it or make me feel any better." Again, his gaze burned into hers and her heart tugged to hear him talking about losing her. She knew the feeling of loss so well. She had lost everyone she'd ever loved—some of them multiple times—Cas included. It was the worst feeling she knew of. She squeezed his hand, so sorry he'd felt those things… so sorry he'd felt alone. "As a result, I wanted to feel less," he continued ruefully. "Alcohol, as I remembered, can assist with that. I arrived to a store that sold various liquors with every intention to drink myself into oblivion. And then I… well…" he paused significantly, eyes on their hands which held on top of the table, "I had a strange encounter."

Something about the way he said it clued Alex in to its importance. Immediately, she felt wary. "What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.

Castiel's expression showed a lack of knowing how to word himself. "Well…" his eyes slid to hers and he looked many things: tentative, hopeful, nervous, uncertain. "…I think I met our children."

…Talk about the last thing you expected to hear. Alex, who had met a mysterious time traveling young man who she still hadn't found the right time to mention to Cas, felt her eyes bug wide. "…Children?! As in… more than one?"

Cas took her shocked reaction in stride. "Yes," he confirmed evenly. "I know it's surprising. They um… they were both teens or young adults—from the future."

Alex was stuck on one minor detail: "Two of them!" she exclaimed softly.

Castiel nodded once. "A boy and a girl," he confirmed. "Their names were—"

Alex cut him off fast because it brought new meanings to the term 'spoiler alert.' "No, nonono—don't tell me that," she said in a fluster, trying to get her bearings. "I mean, if it was—if they were—" she scrambled clumsily to try and explain herself. "I don't want to know their names before they even exist, right…?" Alex didn't know how to process this sudden bombshell. Her first instinct was to corroborate. "W-what did the boy look like?" she asked faintly, thinking of the stranger she'd met...

"Very much like me," Cas said, making Alex's heart drop to her toes. "Brown hair, very blue eyes, similar facial features to mine…"

Swallowing through a thick throat, Alex felt short on breath. "Tall? Slender? Sort of… uh… confident and sarcastic?"

It was Cas's turn to look taken aback. "…Very."

"…Oh my god," Alex breathed. "I—I saw him too, I think," she managed to get out. "Right after you and Dean got sucked into monsterland… this, this guy showed up out of nowhere at Sucrocorp and helped me and Sam get out and… gave me a drawing of the tree in Purgatory... and at the time I thought I was totally nuts to even think..." she trailed off. "But he looked so much like you and I dunno I just had this feeling about him and… Jesus Christ, I really need to sit down." She stared queasily at nothing.

There was an awkward pause. "You are sitting down," Cas then pointed out in slight concern.

Oh. So she was. "Then I need to stand up," she said, shakily pushing herself up to her feet which quickly began to move her forward. She was very much like Dean in that when agitated or upset, she had a hard time holding still. Not totally cognizant of her surroundings, Alex wandered toward the library, raking a hand through her hair and trying to make sense of what this meant. She had gone through fantasy-land moments of thinking children would be nice to have with Cas—but she'd never given it real true intentional thought. And right now after her stint in Hell and all the shit she'd been through in the past year, she was left feeling like she was way too far gone to ever bring new life into the world, and this place was too dangerous for them anyway. Then she realized she didn't even know why these supposed kids of hers had shown up and she turned around fast, finding that Cas had followed her into the library area. "What were they even doing here?" she asked. "And are you sure they were… were ours?" she asked, having a tough time saying 'ours.' It felt somehow more petrifying than all the monsters she'd ever faced.

Cas nodded seriously, his expression hard to read. "Yes. They were."

Alex was too jangled up to just accept that. "How? How do you know?"

There was a look in Castiel's eyes like no other. "I just do," he said softly as his feelings clearly surged. He hesitated. "And the boy... h-he called me..." Cas had to take a moment. Alex hung on his every word and movement without breathing, almost feeling like she might cry without knowing why. His voice was soft and emotional, almost a whisper. "He called me Dad."

Thunderstruck, Alex breathed out softly, amazed. She hadn't expected to hear that, nor had she expected the automatic response her heart gave: warmth, love, tenderness. For the briefest moment, Alex was lost in a sea of incredible emotion and feeling, imagining this moment in her mind, seeing Castiel's expression, understanding this was part of their future somehow.

"They came to tell me not to alter the past, essentially," Castiel explained. "And, apparently… I sent them to do that. Future me."

Alex shook her head briefly, in a trance. "W-what did she look like?"

Cas seemed to grow a touch more tender and carefully replied: "Very much like her mother." Holy fucking shit. At the strange look on her face, Cas came closer. "Are you all right?" he asked gently, voice wrought in faint worry.

She was shaking her head, overcome with so many feelings, but the biggest one was a loud, growing fear. "No, I just… I don't understand," she said, eyes unfocused and not looking at anything. "Cas, I can barely keep my cell phones from breaking, how would I ever keep a kid alive?" It was a foreign concept—and currently felt too real to do anything but send her into a place of fear that quickly spiraled. "I can't picture myself as a… as a mother. And apparently sometime in the future I am…? That kind of scares the shit out of me, honestly, I mean…" she trailed off and wet her lips as she tried to figure out how she felt. "I don't even want kids I don't think?" Or do I? I don't even know. "I—I've never been one of those girls who played with dolls or wanted babies—I wanted to shoot guns and drive trucks and climb trees and jump off things and kick ass; I've never even really been around babies or families or normal people, how would I know how to raise a kid? I don't think I could do it—I like just don't even know how!" Being a mother was more of an unknown than going to Hell. And that brought up something she avoided thinking of: the baby they had lost. Guilt didn't even cover what she felt concerning that failed pregnancy, as short as it had been and as unknowing as she had remained. In Hell, there had been torture centered around this very subject, which she would never speak about to anyone. Alex's heart broke a little bit as she continued to believe the worst of herself, and fear failing innocent, little humans of her own creation. "This life, my job, the danger, the world we live in… how the hell would we ever want to bring a kid into this mess?"

Cas looked unprepared to answer, but still did. "I—I don't know the circumstances… I just know that they exist," he said quietly, leaving Alex to feel incredibly uncertain. He thought hard for a moment. "I can only assume that someday in the future we mutually decide to… to have children. But that's the future. Not now." He gently touched her arm, trying to calm and soothe her jangled nerves. "We don't need to even think about that aspect of things until you're ready. Well. Until we're both ready." He smiled in a semi self-deprecating way that indicated he was unsure about it all, too.

Breathing out a long, shaky breath, Alex nodded, realizing he was right. It wasn't like they were gonna have kids now or something. Maybe this was actually a bit of hope for a safer, more peaceful future they'd get to someday. But it was still something that she wasn't going to stop thinking about, even if she tried. The fact that someday they would be parents put such an immense pressure. Alex wracked her brain: Cas said she wouldn't get pregnant unless he lost total control of himself or unless it was on purpose—so when in the future did she up and decide she wanted kids? And two of them at that? Then, a sudden new thought revealed itself, one she didn't know why she hadn't considered it yet. "Would… would our kids be like… super-powered or something?" she asked, voice tight. "Would... would they even be human?"

Castiel was hesitant to speak much on the matter. "I don't know much about Nephilim," he admitted, and the term 'Nephilim' made Alex feel a fraction colder. It felt detached and strange, like the name designated for a creature. "There were a few near the beginning of humanity but then the archangels changed that," he explained tentatively. "The Nephilim were all too powerful and thought too dangerous. So… they were exterminated."

Exterminated? Alex felt a twinge of protectiveness and anger. Someday she would have children that Heaven didn't want in existence? Quieted and faced with this difficult news, Alex took a couple seconds to try and understand. "So they wouldn't be human or angel. They'd be… something else." Nephilim. She turned away from Castiel and struggled to get a handle on her emotions and feelings. Growing up as a human was hard enough, but being different? Feeling freakish and knowing you would never be like everyone else? Alex had lived that and never wanted anyone else to feel it. Especially not any children she did or didn't have with Castiel. And if history repeated itself, angels would want these children dead simply because their mother was human and their father was an angel. Alex's chest was constricting tightly as the vast differences between herself and her husband screamed across her mind. She felt Cas coming up behind her and she cursed herself for feeling so emotional. "I'm sorry, I just… it's too overwhelming to even think about right now," she whispered, as she unconsciously pressed one hand to her stomach. It was roiling with nausea, the kind she hadn't felt in ages.

His hand came to rest on her shoulder comfortingly as he rounded her, placing himself in front of her. "It's all right. Alex, you've gone through so much," he consoled, and his knack for seeing through to what was going on with her really touched her deeply. He was completely earnest and not at all upset with her for being distressed. "It's all right for you to feel whatever you're feeling," he continued, then hesitated because she wasn't looking him in the eye. "What are you feeling?" he asked, dipping his head a little in an attempt to read her expression better.

"Nauseated," she said sourly, then regretted the flippant reply and her eyes raised to his. And those weren't his eyes. Not totally. He wasn't a human being, and even though he might look and even feel like one at this point, the fact remained: they were not the same species. She was in her thirties and he was so old her mind couldn't even comprehend it. She was flesh and bone and soul; he was spirit and light and Grace. They were not the same and they had never been. "I'm feeling… like I'm a human and you're an angel," she managed to get out weakly.

Castiel's expression grew heavier and more knowing when she said that. "Yes." A brief pause, an uncertain twinge on his face. "And you've always known that."

Yes she had. Alex shook her head, not even sure where she was going with this. "I know but… I… I don't know."

Instead of standing there in hurt silence or drawing away—two things Castiel might have done in the past when Alex expressed doubt—he drew her close into a hug, recognizing that she needed comfort. "Come here," he murmured, enveloping her in sweet, heartfelt reassurance. The bad feelings lessened in the warmth of his arms. No, he wasn't a human like her. But that hadn't stopped them yet.

Still, Alex felt that ancient fear of being abandoned creeping up and looming larger and larger. And she was stuck thinking about them having children who would be targets and outcasts. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why did every aspect of this relationship have to be completely abnormal? The way Castiel loved her was so utterly unbelievable… but what if it was too good to last? That was her deepest, darkest, truest fear. She warred against it constantly and very often was able to push it out of her mind and not let it control her. But today, she felt every bit of the flawed human that she was. And she saw him for every bit of the celestial being that he was.

The soul touch last night ran through her mind. "Sometimes I just don't know why anyone at all would love me at all," she confessed miserably after a minute of conflicted silence. "Least of all a goddamn angel."

Cas looked at her for a long moment, peering into her soul it felt like. "You're afraid," he observed presently, a tender and kind, knowing assessment. Her heart jolted as her eyes shot up to look into his, which were full of understanding and love. "Alex, we have seen each other at our best and at our worst. Nothing you have ever done has changed anything for me," he promised with a simple, straightforward tone as his thumbs stroked over her fingers so gently. "And it never will." The softest, saddest smile came over his face as she was embarrassed and reassured at the same time. "Someday you won't doubt at all," he murmured warmly with transfixing certainty. "Someday you'll see yourself as I see you. And then… you will never wonder or fear again." He reached out and tucked some hair away from her face and behind her ear. A tender, familiar touch that was paired with a deeply soulful gaze. "Until then… I'm happy to remind you every day that the thing I love most in the world is you."

Her heart was bursting and her stomach was turning flips at his words. Her hands tightened on his. "Sometimes it scares me how much I love you." She whispered those words, like it might make the two of them safer somehow.

Cas's expression showed understanding. "I know. I've felt the same."

They loved each other. Alex knew that. But a million worries were still eating her alive. And she couldn't stop thinking of his boundlessness, his wings, his Grace, his ageless form. And then herself: small, human, finite, mortal. How could this really, truly work longterm? Especially now knowing that their future kids would never be normal? "We're still so different though…" she mumbled in a strained voice, not sure how else to convey all her concerns.

Very tender and fond, Cas's lips turned upward in a bittersweet smile. "Are we?" He possessed this quiet confidence that was entrancing. "I think we already know that together we can face anything," he said. "Make it through what should otherwise be impossible. After all, we have done so already time and time again." Alex breathed out softly, realizing that he was right, of course. A hundred things had stood between them, but nothing had been able to keep them apart. "Different or not… we love each other," Cas continued. It wasn't a question. His voice held no doubts. His fingers tightened on hers affectionately and he was absolutely spellbinding to her in that moment. "I believe that's enough to see us through. More than enough."

When he put it like that… she felt stronger and more capable of believing. Maybe she didn't know the future and he didn't either. But what he was saying was fact: they'd made it this far and were stronger for it. If they had gotten through the rest, they could certainty make it through some more. Just as long as they stuck together. Alex felt herself smiling back at him through her softening, worried expression. "I love you, you know that?" she whispered.

His eyes were soft and bright. "Yes," he said huskily. "I do."

He was her strength in this moment—her support and her firm foundation. Not sure what more to say, Alex caught his face in her hands and kissed him softly, letting her fingers slide back to the sides of his neck and then into his hair. His familiar, sweet mouth made her sigh as his arms and hands found a gentle embrace of her body against his. Alex tried to commit this feeling to mind so that she could carry it with her into the darker, more uncertain moments of her life. When they gently broke apart, they did not move very far away at all—just caught each other's gazes briefly and then Cas hugged her against himself again, a hand against her head to cradle her. Her arms wrapped around his familiar shape and held on tight. Maybe part of her would always be waiting for the next time they got ripped apart. But right now… they were together. And she wasn't going to let herself think like that. She felt Cas kissing the top of her head softly and she shut her eyes as a smile drifted across her face. That's where they were when they heard Sam's telltale long stride approaching again.

Although Alex was still thinking through a lot of things, she switched mental tracks quickly when she pulled her head off of Cas's shoulder and saw that her brother carried a huge old film reel with him—the circular metal disc with spokes through it. "What's that?" she asked, instantly intrigued.

"Film of interest from the note about 'weird' with three exclamation points," Sam said mysteriously then wiggled the object with a playful little expression. "Think I saw a projector around here somewhere, too. Movie night?"

Movie night. Those two words triggered only one thought in Alex and she was suddenly extremely enthusiastic and jumping out of Cas's arms. "Yes! Popcorn!" She was definitely on board and thinking with her stomach which had been feeling very empty and fussy since waking. "And M&Ms!" She could probably eat at least a pound of them. "Text Dean and tell him to bring the peanut kind, a big, huge bag." Her mind spun with food possibilities as she focused more and more on how damn hungry she was. "Oh, and cupcakes—whatever kind there is—chocolate would be best though."

Sam didn't look too enthusiastic about her wish list. "None of that stuff is good for you," he hedged, his cell phone in hand as he hesitated to text Dean that wishlist. "How about something more healthy? Like… I dunno… spinach salad with grilled chicken?"

"Screw salads," his twin retorted, tapping her chin with a finger as she thought hard and walked a small little circle in absent-mindedness. "I want sardines. Probably on pizza, but I guess by themselves would be okay too…" Dad used to get sardines on pizza and she always thought they were gross in the past but today they sounded fucking amazing.

Sam looked positively revolted and mystified. "Sardines?" He glanced at Cas, who was also a little dubious. "Gross," he muttered.

"And pickles," Alex continued, mouth watering as she imagined how they tasted and crunched. "The kind that are spicy. With spray cheese." She stopped short there, realizing how nasty these combinations were. But then again, she hadn't really eaten food in ten years because of Hell—she was bound to crave some favorites, especially since she was so starved, right? She shrugged and pulled a face at Cas and Sam's confused expressions. "Getting out of Hell makes you a little hungry."

Sam was doubtful. "Yeah… I guess." He narrowed his eyes at his sister, studying her closely. "…You feeling okay?"

"I feel great," she muttered, a little annoyed all of the sudden. "Just… hungry." She swiped his phone abruptly, in a hurry to get some food into her growling stomach. "Gimme that, I'll text him myself." She paused and made a confused face then glanced up at Sam. "Who's Molly?" There were like a million texts from her, the most recent one Alex glimpsed a series of heart-eye and laughing emojis.

Sam's immediately nervous demeanor gave him away. "Uh… no one." He motioned for her to give him the device.

Alex raised an eyebrow at him, stepping back and simultaneously keep the phone out of his reaching hand. "You sure seem to text 'no one' a lot…" she teased, enjoying his fluster and confirming her theory: Sam liked this Molly person.

Sam pulled one of his bitchy faces then he abruptly darted forward. "Give me that," he said, swiping his phone back defensively.

"Okay, okay. Geez." Alex sighed, her fun ruined for the moment. She decided to leave it alone for the time being because she was getting so hungry she thought she would starve to death. "M&Ms," she reminded firmly. "And everything else I said. And make it snappy—my stomach is eating itself."

Sam was typing away on his phone and throwing a perplexed little glance her way. "Yup. Got it."

Alex sighed out hard, wondering when on earth Dean would get his ass back here with food. In the meantime… she really couldn't stand to wait any longer. "I'm gonna go see what we have in the kitchen." She glanced at Cas and then held her hand out to him. He smiled covertly and took her hand and then was quickly pulled away toward the kitchen as she made a beeline for the pantry.

Sam watched them go out of the corner of his eye and hit the send button on the text to Dean of all the foods Alex had requested. They weren't gonna have any luck in the kitchen. He was pretty sure all that they had was some ketchup, hot sauce, and salt packets in there. Sam briefly looked through the texts he and Molly had exchanged recently. A small instance of guilt rippled through him. It sometimes started as a 'hey how are you?' or 'saw this and thought of you' type thing. He tried to keep his replies to her texts short and sweet because he really didn't want to lead her on. But, of course, at his deepest levels, he wished he was still dating her. Knowing the danger he put her in simply by being in her life at all helped him stay focused on distancing himself, though. He worried that even these nominal, friendly texts would endanger her. But sometimes, Molly was the only one who made Sam feel sane at all. She had no clue how deep he was in, and he kind of needed that. Someone who didn't know every last thing about how dark and bad he was.

Selfish. You're so fucking selfish.

Sam pocketed his phone and then glanced around haggardly. He was trying to prove it to himself that he wasn't selfish but he wasn't sure if he even believed that about himself. His whole life he'd been called self-centered and then told that any act of independence that stood him apart from the family was him being selfish. He knew there was a fine line between self-assured and self-centered and wanted to believe that he wasn't a self-absorbed asshole. But he just didn't know. Either way, he would be so glad when these trials were over with. What happened after that he didn't know, but he was hopeful that maybe him and his family would finally get some kind of a break. And hopefully after he closed Hell, he would finally be able to set aside all the guilt that had plagued him since Purgatory. It was too heavy to carry much longer. He needed forgiveness. From himself and from his siblings. Maybe then he could feel like a real person again.

After about twenty minutes of poking around and setting up the old-school movie projector while remaining wrapped up in his harrowed thoughts, Sam realized he hadn't heard a peep out of Cas and Alex and he went to find them, worried by default about their safety and then subsequently worried that he'd find them in some kind of compromising position. He found them in the kitchen at the little humble table there—Cas sitting in a chair, Alex sitting beside him and curled up with her head in his lap, her mouth open and hair strewn across her face. She was fast asleep in what looked like an extremely uncomfortable position. Sam looked at Cas questioningly when he came upon the scene. Cas looked a little out of his element. "She ate the last stale hot dog bun and then cried because there were no hot dogs," he said, and he sounded a little overwhelmed and confused at her behavior. "I… think she's very tired."

Or maybe losing her goddamn mind. Sam nodded tensely, studying his sister's sleeping face with concern. "Yeah. I can see that." She was acting weird—weird enough that Sam was worried about what this might have to do with Hell or not. He slowly sat down across from Cas at the table quietly as to not wake Alex. "She okay, Cas?" he asked in a soft voice. Alex didn't stir at all—she was sleeping like a rock.

Cas looked down at the side of her zonked sleeping face and moved her hair back tenderly. Sam saw that Cas was worried, too. "Hell has certainly left a mark," he conceded, then grew more hesitant. "And I… I think I might have done something to her during um… a soul touch last night." Sam's eyebrows shot up high. A soul touch? That sounded… different. Was it like a… sex thing? Or for some other purpose? Sam didn't know what kind of comment to make and was stuck feeling wary, so he said nothing for a long moment, staying neutral instead.

Cas was looking at Alex with a quiet, mystified expression on his face. "Something seems different about her cellular make up but I can't put my finger on what exactly I did or changed," he murmured, and Sam felt his face tensing up as his concern grew. Cas glanced up, saw that, and reassured the hunter meekly. "I don't think it's anything to be worried about, she seems fine if not just… somehow different." Sam tried to understand and even thought about asking what the soul touch was for but decided it was probably none of his business what these two did behind closed doors if it was consensual. Still, he worried silently. When your sister was in a relationship with a super-powered angel, it could really wrack your nerves—for reasons exactly like this. Cas was gentle with Alex and protective of her, Sam knew that… but mistakes happened. And as Sam watched Cas with his sister, he remembered one ultimate, terrifying, unforgivable mistake that had been made. He remembered a time when he had been hellbent on killing Cas as revenge for his family and their deaths. It was stilling to think of that again. "I'll continue to monitor her and care for her as best I can, I promise you that Sam," Cas said quietly, focused on Alex's face again and missing Sam's tellingly sickened expression. "Memories of Hell, however… I'm afraid of the effect they'll have on her long term."

Sam felt a brief, tense smile pull on his mouth. The irony wasn't lost on him. He knew all about the memories of Hell and what they could do to a person. "Makes two of us," he said tightly, thinking of his own experience with the night terrors, the hallucinations, the memories out of nowhere, the crippling fear. He was quiet for a solemn moment, rubbing at his scarred palm absently as he thought of a lot of heavy, important things. "They never really go away. The damage is always gonna be there." He refocused himself, choosing to be positive. "But she's really strong. And she won't be going through it alone. So, I know she'll pull through." Sam was gonna be here for her, come whatever.

Cas was peering at Sam with an expression of gentle thoughtfulness. "How are you, Sam?"

Momentarily startled by the question, Sam was a little clumsy in his reply. "Honestly?" he tried to laugh off the question and he definitely did not go into detail. "Uh... been better. But it doesn't matter. I'll muddle through." He cleared his throat loudly, uncomfortable because he realized that the conversation he'd been meditating on having with Cas for awhile now was about to happen. A little nervous about how the angel would respond to everything he had to say, Sam clasped his hands on the table and put on his best businesslike tone and face even though truth be told he was feeling very awkward about this entire thing. "So uh, Cas. I can't help but notice you're wearing uh… that." He gestured and let his gaze show Cas what he was referring to: the wedding ring.

It was Cas's turn to be startled and then a little sheepish. He looked at his left hand briefly, maybe wondering if Sam was going to tell him to take it off. "Yes," he confirmed meekly. He was hesitant to look the other man in the eyes fully.

Sam sighed out a long, hard breath of air. He hated causing conflict and stirring up crap—half the time he kept his opinions to himself because he knew it just wouldn't do much good and would end up creating more bad than good. But this time… after everything… he had to lay it out. "Look Cas. I usually don't put myself in other people's business but… when it comes to my sister—I have a few things to say. And I haven't really even seen you with Alex since you were…" he made the crazy-in-the-head sign with a swirling finger beside his temple. "But I've been holding onto this for awhile so… out in the open, right?"

He cleared his throat again and tried to be sensitive and careful about how he worded himself. It was tough to summarize up such a mess of emotions and thoughts, but he did his best. "I wasn't happy when I found out what you two did. I was… well, I dunno if I've ever been more upset in my whole life." Sam shook his head as his eyebrows worked in together. "I looked at you and saw some guy who had done nothing but hurt and lie to and do wrong to my sister. And she married you in secret. After everything you did, she still loved you and I just… it made me furious." He paused and let his eyebrows shrug up briefly and sadly. "Then I realized I was pretty much exactly the same. I did all those things too. Hurt her, lied to her, abandoned her, betrayed her. And Dean too." Cas listened with an intrigued, cautious expression as Sam made himself clear: "Now does that make either of us more in the right? No. I'm not excusing any of the crap either of us pulled." Sam drew his mouth into an uncertain line briefly. "Honestly, I'm still on the fence about all this. You and Alex. How it works, if it lasts, if it can last. I know you make her happy, I do. And I get that you two love each other a lot and hell, my family isn't exactly normal so I don't think I should have ever expected her to end up with something cookie cutter. I know it's your relationship, not mine. And like I said, I've never been the guy who tried to run other people's lives for them. This stuff is all you two and I'm not looking to get in the way or impose." He clenched his jaw and drew the line in the sand. "But Cas, this is my sister. My twin. She and I came into the world together—we're connected in ways other siblings never are—and maybe we didn't always stick together but I gotta look out for her. Maybe to make up for all the times I didn't come through, I dunno."

Sam was almost stern at this point as Cas listened on with a faintly uncomfortable expression. "You don't deserve a second chance with her. You don't. In my opinion, after what happened… no matter how justified it was or wasn't, it happened. You killed her, Cas." A very stark silence hung between the men for an awful couple of long seconds. "That fact alone should put you on my hit list, but…" Sam paused and shook his head, overwhelmed with it all. "When I had no soul, I would have killed her too if Dean hadn't stopped me. And Cas, I wanted to kill her and Dean when I was high on demon blood that one time. I barely stopped myself." Sam looked at the angel for a long, pensive moment. He hated to admit how close he'd come to true evil at some moments in his life. But it gave him immense understanding of how given the right circumstances, anyone could be the bad guy. "So can I really point the finger at you while knowing all my misdeeds?" Despite it all, Sam felt a conflicted smile turn his mouth upwards. "And I mean, at the core, you're not a villain or a bad guy, Cas. You're not. I know what she sees in you. The same good things I've seen. And you know, you've done more for my family than maybe anyone else ever has. I like you. Always have. When we found out about the Crowley thing… it was like losing a good friend. Because that's what I'd come to see you as. A good friend." He took a second to study the angel across from him. "I think we can get there again, you and me." Cas looked touched and hopeful. But Sam had to make it crystal clear. He got serious and intense so that he would never be misunderstood about this: "But… friends or not, family or not… if you ever hurt her again—at all—if you even come close to doing something wrong to her—if you lie to us like you did before and keep secrets—there won't be another chance for you. I'll kill you where you stand." He said that and then cracked a nervous little grimace when he heard how intimidating his tone of voice had been. "That… came out a lot more threatening than I meant for it to be," he said, then rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously and sheepishly. "But I guess there isn't a way to threaten someone's life without being a little… uh… threatening."

Sam let his hand drop and huffed a little to expel some nervous energy. And that was it. His grand monologue, the things he'd been thinking for a long time now. Sam felt better to have it all in the open, but now came the moment of truth: Castiel's reaction to everything that had just been said to him. Sam expected for Cas to either shut down or become defensive. Or perhaps to even start experimenting with heavy denial. But the angel ended up surprising the hunter.

Cas thought a moment then of all things smiled softly and nodded, appearing touched. "Thank you, Sam."

Sam was just a little confused. Thank you? "…For threatening to kill you?" he asked slowly and incredulously.

Cas's smile grew a little more as if Sam amused him a bit. "No," he said gently. "For looking out for her. For protecting her. You're a very good brother."

That genuine compliment felt like a sting and Sam was immediately a fraction more ashamed of himself. "Yeah. Not always," he muttered, looking away and swallowing down self-loathing. He wet his lips, cleared his throat, then changed the subject. "Look, I'm sorry. I know the timing's awkward and… well, the whole thing is awkward but… I just had to put all that out there." He gave Cas his more earnest and meaningful look, hoping Cas didn't think that he hated him or something. "I'm trusting her judgment on this. She's giving you a second chance so I am too. Clean slate. Do over." He paused and then his voice bore a blossoming note of dire warning. "But just this once." Sam hoped to god or whatever higher power that he wouldn't have to make good on his threat. His intuition said that Castiel had made his mistakes, learned his lessons, and would not let the same things happen ever again. But just in case… Sam's word would stand, like it or not.

Castiel was sad and apologetic across the table. "Sam…" he shook his head slightly, gathering his thoughts and trying to come up with a meaningful response. "I am sorry. For everything." His eyes swept back and forth over the tabletop as he took a moment to name some of his most grave offenses. "For lying to you, for keeping things from you and your family. For breaking your mind, for raising you wrong out of Hell the first time, for betraying you, for…" his expression wavered sickeningly when he could not bring himself to name the murders he'd committed. "For all of it." Sam and Cas's eyes met and they both knew what he meant. Cas's eyes fell down to look at the table. "And I'm also sorry for marrying your sister in secret." His eyes flickered up to Sam's surprised gaze. "I know you and Dean will forever be unhappy about that."

Sam tried to express his feelings on the matter. "Just… just wish we could have been there, that's all," he said in staunch honestly. "Been part of it I guess." He knew that was wishful thinking because at the time he probably would have thought Cas and Alex were nuts for getting married. He wouldn't have exactly been excited about it. But… Sam still wished that somehow he could have been there and been witness to it at the very least. Maybe he wouldn't have totally approved per say, but he could have at least did his best to support his sister's right to make her own choices. Marriage was a big deal and Sam remained uncertain as to whether or not Cas and Alex really understood the implications about it. But… he knew his sister was a big time over-thinker. So maybe he wasn't giving them enough credit. Anyway, like he'd said: it was their relationship, not his. Therefore, not his business.

Cas was deeply reflective for a long moment. "At the time, we thought the world was going to end," he recalled in a bittersweet tone. His eyes were far away, seeing into the past. "That we only had a week or two left to live. Perhaps it was ill-advised or poorly timed but… I still don't regret it. I can't." His gaze unclouded and found Sam's sincerely. "I do regret causing you any disappointment or pain though Sam. Please accept my apologies."

Sam nodded slowly, indicating that he understood. That was good of Cas to say. But Sam now had a new curiosity burning in his mind. Something he'd wondered before and never asked. "You think you two would have gotten married if the apocalypse hadn't been nigh?"

A question that the angel softened at. Castiel had this deeply in love look on his face as his eyes drifted down to the dark head of hair resting in his lap. He thought for a long few seconds. "I honestly don't know." He mused softly to himself, eyes adoring Alex's sleeping profile. "In any case, she and I are forever bound. Marriage or not."

Sam recognized that Castiel loved Alex—there had never been any doubt in his mind about that—and he had caught on pretty quickly to the fact that they were into each other in the early days but… there was just something very suddenly surreal about this moment now. Cas and Alex—committed, together. For better or for worse, it seemed. Choosing to be together despite everything they'd been through. Sticking it out even when the going got tough. Huh. Maybe they did understand marriage more than he thought. Cas glanced up at Sam. "I hope you and Dean won't mind having me with you from now on," he said quietly, and Sam heard the apprehensiveness hidden there.

He gave the angel a little smile. "We'll figure it out," he assured, guessing this was as good an outcome as any. He was secretly glad Cas didn't want to move out or take Alex away with himself to start some kind of private life together, just the two of them. The Winchesters belonged together as a family unit and Castiel recognized that and didn't have plans to swoop in and change it all. Sam leaned back in his chair, more relaxed than before as he gestured around optimistically. "And hey… we got a place now with plenty of room. Kinda worked itself out, didn't it?" Hope was warm in Sam's chest as he thought about how things could really be someday. Hell would be closed, his sister would be okay, Dean would hopefully and eventually recover from everything that had threatened to break him. And Dad. He might be okay too, but Sam wasn't sure what that meant for the family. He knew one thing though. The unassuming, mild-mannered angel across from him was the one who had kept this entire family alive. Abruptly stricken, Sam's face showed his deep emotion. "Thank you, Cas," he said earnestly. "For saving my sister. For pulling my dad out. For pulling me out, for pulling Dean out." Castiel had rescued the entire Winchester family from Hell, basically. And lest he ever forget the most kind and important thing, the thing which came first: Cas giving Alex the ability to speak. "Without you… we wouldn't even be here."

At the thank yous, Cas had that soft, weary smile on his face. He looked very appreciative of Sam's gratitude, but he was humble to a fault. "I'll always do whatever I can for this family, Sam."

This was the Castiel that Sam really admired and liked. Steadfast, devoted, simple and quiet, a little emotionally vulnerable. He really did have a lot of positives that Sam found worthy of respect. The angel was willing to do whatever it took to protect the ones he loved. He had faced exile for his feelings and convictions—he had left everything he knew behind. And he had always, always done what he thought was right (even when he was sadly misguided). It was striking to think about, actually. Castiel was super-powered, fierce, and had always been very loud in the beginning about proclaiming his celestial nature, his place in the universe, his importance. Castiel; Angel of the Lord. Soldier, warrior, formidable opponent, someone you did not want to piss off. He was a fucking badass with a blade, could kill you a thousand ways, and had commanded a war in Heaven. And yet here he was sitting in a chair currently existing as a human pillow for Alex, who had just let out a soft snorting snore. Of all the scenarios Sam had ever seen Cas in, this was the one that seemed to suit him best.

Sam smiled faintly. Cas said he'd always do whatever he could for this family. "Yeah. I know you will, Cas."

Cas returned the smile tentatively, never one for grand emotional displays. Not that Sam had ever seen, anyway. A moment passed in which Sam pulled out his phone to see if Dean had called or texted. Nada. A little restless and tired of course (he was always tired, especially in present time), Sam decided to put on some coffee. As he tinkered and measured out grounds, his thoughts went to his father once again. It had been what felt like a lifetime since John Winchester had been around. Sam was a different man now. Honestly, Sam would really say he'd actually been a boy when Dad died. And now he'd become a man. At least half of one, anyway. Briefly he feared Dad's judgment and disapproval on everything that had happened with the apocalypse, Lucifer, the demon blood, Ruby, Amelia, Purgatory… all the things that daily pressed down on Sam's overwhelmed shoulders. He realized that he would definitely disappoint his father. Again. And disappointing his brother and sister was bad enough.

Cas's gravelly and soft voice broke through the internal clamor. "You're worried about your father, aren't you?"

A question that was like a net Sam got caught in. He stood there with the coffee pot in one hand, frozen in the act of preparing to pour water into the brewing carafe. Cas seemed genuinely empathetic and interested and Sam swallowed after a moment and nodded tensely. "Yeah." He grimly poured the water into the machine, eyes not seeing much. "And honestly… don't know how I feel about it. Him. Being back." He didn't dare admit that to Dean.

But Cas seemed to understand. In fact, he gave Sam a rueful little expression. "Alex doesn't either." Sam felt an instant surge of relief. He wasn't the only one. "This does complicate things to say the least," Cas murmured, eyes drifting off to stare at a far wall blankly. Castiel didn't like John on principle, Sam got that and definitely understood why.

Sam hit the brew button and said all he knew to say about his dad. "He did his best."

Cas's expression was bittering as he continued to stare off. "His best was problematic and harmful."

There was a brief, cynical little laugh from Sam. "Trust me. You don't have to tell me twice." He knew all of that firsthand. He'd run away to Stanford to escape his dad's tyranny and obsession with hunting, to get out from under his father's thumb. He'd lived a life where his dad's expectations and demands had just been too much and after awhile, it had just been enough. Sam had needed a normal life. One away from John Winchester. It would be very easy to become bitter about where John's choices had left Sam and his siblings. And for awhile, that's exactly what Sam had been: deeply, deeply bitter. For a long time, Dad had represented everything wrong in the world to Sam. But at the end of the day, when Sam grew up and realized that his dad was just human… and that Sam's life was his own to do with what he chose… it gave new perspective. He found it easier these days to have compassion on his dad because of that. Sam hadn't been the poster child for good decisions, after all. "We've all made terrible mistakes," he reasoned somberly, trying to help Cas see that maybe his prejudice against John was misplaced. "We've all hurt each other. We've all done unforgivable things to each other and let each other down, hurt each other." He shrugged hesitantly. "Maybe it's just part of being human."

Castiel considered Sam's words with a somber expression. "Humanity is flawed. Existence is flawed. I don't disagree with that." His intensely blue eyes looked into Sam's. "But if your father wakes up and does anything to harm her or any of you… if he causes trouble… I will not tolerate it."

Sam felt a waver of slight fear. He didn't doubt Cas at all, for a minute. Hoping it wouldn't come to anything even close to that, Sam played diplomat. "Let's… let's just cross that bridge when we come to it, huh?" he asked, trying to put a smile on his face even though he knew it was coming off as a nervous grimace. But Cas wasn't paying attention—he was looking down into his lap and frowning slightly. Sam followed his gaze and realized that Alex had gone stiff, her face was contorting into a deep frown, and she was beginning to breathe hard and fast. Her hands clenched into balled fists, her eyebrows were slamming in together, she began to make a soft whimpering sound of pain or fear. Sam froze. "Is something wrong with her?"

Grim, Castiel looked at Alex's face closely and then touched his hand to the side of her face. "More nightmares," he said flatly. Oh no. Sam's heart dropped. More? They had started already? Cas's eyes shut, his brow remained tense for a long moment, his fingers remained on her face. Sam remained uselessly still, unsure of what to do. Alex moaned 'no, no, no,' over and over again and shuddered. And then when Cas's eyes opened, Alex's suddenly did too and she sat up in a rush with a loud gasp, her eyes wild and unsure of where she was. Cas caught her by both upper arms, keeping her steady so she didn't fall out of her chair. Panicked questions subsided and calmed as Cas wordlessly held her gaze. And then Alex let out a shuddering breath and a soft heartbreaking sound and she clutched him, burying her head down against him. Cas held her, and Sam felt deep sadness and appreciation alike. Alex hadn't escaped the nightmares like he'd hoped. But Cas was there for her in a way a brother could never really be. "It was just a dream," Cas told her softly, holding her securely. He looked vaguely sickened—and Sam wondered if Cas had somehow seen whatever Alex was dreaming.

She nodded that she understood that, trying to discreetly wipe away her tears as she sat up and breathed out in a shudder. "I—I know," she whispered, shaking her head and appearing confused and afraid. "It just felt so real." She looked over at Sam and tried to look less upset. Sam had nothing but compassion for her and gave her an understanding, sad smile and she was chastened. And then her stomach gave the loudest belching growl Sam had ever heard. So loud that his eyes widened. Alex looked down at herself in total mystification. "God, what the hell?" she complained, dismayed at her own body.

"Geez," Sam commented wryly, trying to make the moment feel more lighthearted and casual. "Could your stomach be any louder?" She looked at him with one of those smiles where she clearly didn't want to be smiling but couldn't help smiling. And then her stomach growled again and even louder this time. Sam pulled an impressed face. "Hmm. Guess so."

Alex stood up and glared at nothing in particular, still shaken up. "How long does it take to get some damn food in this place, anyway?!" She let out a frustrated sound and then a sound of pitiful despair when her stomach gurgled again. "I mean I can't eat ketchup packets!" she exclaimed, grabbing a few off the table and shaking them in frustration… then eyeing them longingly for a second before throwing them down sullenly.

Sam tried not to laugh at the cantankerous expression on her face. He was sorry she was hungry, he was… but brothers are basically programmed to always be amused at their sister's hardships. He couldn't help it. Sam checked his watch. Dean was taking his sweet time, that was for sure. The gas station was just a couple miles away—he should have been back by now. Sam decided to try and distract Alex and maybe himself, too. "You wanna play a game of chess while we wait?" he asked. "They have a really nice set here."

Alex looked like he'd suggested something truly unthinkable. "Chess? At a time like this?"

Sam shrugged. "I mean, I could use a mental break." He realized how he'd worded himself a couple seconds after he spoke and braced for the oncoming jeering from Alex about the gaffe. "Err, not a mental break," he said, shutting his eyes and sighing out tiredly. He hoped that coffee would be ready soon because his brain was seriously starting to rot in his sleep-deprived mind. "You know what I mean."

Alex looked at him for a moment and then gave in semi-reluctantly. "Okay Sammy. Chess."

They headed toward the library. "I'm unbeatable, if you remember," Cas said, reminding them of when he'd learned to play a year or so prior.

Sam clapped him on the shoulder briefly, a friendly and familiar gesture. "Sounds like a challenge, Cas buddy."

While those three passed some time with chess, Dean sat in the Impala outside of the bunker and stared vaguely out through the windshield. Beside him on the seat, a few bags of groceries sat idly—in them, all the stuff he'd been asked to get. He'd found most of the requested items and gotten a few extras, too. Including a bottle of dark red Shiraz wine. Not his drink of choice in any universe ever. But it had been one of her favorites.

After much deliberation and reluctance, Dean grabbed that wine bottle with a hard hand and got out of the Impala, leaving the groceries behind and shutting the door with a familiar whining creak. He had something else to take care of before he played food delivery guy. He hesitated there again beside his car, then bit the bullet and headed toward what he had been looking at from the car: Jamie's grave.

The simple wooden cross with her initials stood in a grassy spot underneath an old oak tree and Dean approached then stood there in silence for a minute, heart hammering sickeningly in his chest. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, a few birds were calling back and forth. It was deceptively cheerful. Cas's words to him earlier about how he was going to drive away everyone he had left kept repeating over and over in his head. The dude was right, Dean knew that. He'd known it for awhile. But having someone besides Sam or Alex give insights to him sort of broke through to him all over again. He was at an emotional crossroad. He had to choose. He had to pick a battle and fight it. He couldn't walk these two roads at the same time. It was time to stop waffling back and forth between the paths. Even though a huge portion of his heart wanted to pick James—needed to pick her—the rest of him knew he couldn't. He was out of options. Out of wiggle room. And this had to be goodbye.

Gravely, Dean pulled out his pocket knife and used the corkscrew attachment to yank the wine bottle's cork out with a bright little thunking sound. James liked whiskey and liquor and mixed drinks, but she had always jokingly called herself a wino and loved the dark red stuff. Dean made a slight face—here goes nothin'—then drank straight out of the bottle. "God," he complained, wincing at the pungent taste. "Why do you even like this crap?" he asked, staring at the bottle with an almost indignant expression. He didn't like wine at all and wasn't sure why anyone would. It was too fancy-schmancy, too hoity-toity. And that's why it made him abruptly smile softly and sadly. "Such a damn princess, James." She had acted like a badass but what was she, really? An ex-ballerina who spoke French and played violin and piano, a girl who'd gone to fancy boarding schools and rode horseback and knew the rules of etiquette. She rebelled valiantly against being ladylike, of course, but her uppity roots still showed sometimes. Somehow, Dean had never minded. He liked that hard and soft mixture, the juxtaposition. Thinking of her made his chest catch and his eyes sting. He clenched that dumb bottle of wine at his side and shook his head slowly as his voice nearly failed him.

"I'm not doing so good right now," he whispered, addressing her silent, still grave. He swallowed a hard lump in his throat, having difficulty facing this inevitable moment. "My brother and sister they… I can't do this crap to them anymore." He stifled emotion as the weight of everything crashed down on him all over again. He felt so alone, but it was because he had made himself be that way. And also because she had left him. "God Jamie," he choked out, shoulders caving downward. "I can't." Guilt ate him alive because he wasn't supposed to ever give up ever on things he believed in and loved. But there were two clear choices in front of him. Family or Jamie. And it was always going to be family, even if he didn't even fully want it to be. They were his responsibility—and all he had left in this world. But soft blonde hair and a pale blue gaze haunted his memories. "I wish I didn't have to make this decision," he lamented, cursing himself for not being able to fix things before they had shattered. "I wish things could have ended different. I wish somehow I'd found a way to… to get you outta there. Maybe I still could but…" the things he would have to do to make that happen included betraying his brother, fighting against closing Hell, and probably burning all the bridges left between him and his siblings. If he chose Jamie, he would lose Sam and Alex. It was a sad, hard, terrible reality. "Some people just don't come back," he murmured, then closed his eyes briefly at his own stupidity. "I know that. Of course I fucking know that." Mom stood out in his mind the most at that moment. And now, Jamie joined her there in forever resting in peace. But Dean knew there wasn't any 'peace' to be had for his girlfriend. He hated himself for that and felt another wave of impossible horror wash over him on her behalf. "But goddamn, it hurts—" he managed, "and knowing doesn't make this any fucking easier. You didn't deserve what you got, you didn't."

He felt tears on his face as he thought of her suffering in Hell and him walking away on purpose. Acting like it was okay with him. It never would be. This wasn't fair—it wasn't right. He bowed his head down, ruined. It hurt so much to love someone and to care. Because it always ended up that they didn't want you—or that you couldn't save them. It was always the same for Dean Winchester, always the same. Everything ended in misery and brokenness and that terrible empty, alone feeling. And he didn't think he would ever be able to get past this decision he was making. This betrayal. He despised himself for what he was doing, but he did it anyway.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to empty air. "I'm so goddamn sorry." Apologies changed nothing, but at least he meant it. He was sorry. He wished it hadn't come to this. In a last ditch feeble attempt to help himself cope, he tried to remember the good times. Her laughter and that big smile she'd flash on the rare occasion. The little looks she only gave him. His name tattooed on her inner thigh (and all the alcohol that had been part of that impulse choice). The feeling of being in love and being understood by a kindred spirit. The feeling of amazement that came when you found someone who you could belong with like that. No one else would ever be able to measure up. Unbidden, he remembered drunken karaoke and their first kiss (such a long time coming)—he remembered carpet burn and her saying his name as his fingers dug into soft, inked skin—he remembered holding hands while complaining to each other with profanity-riddled gusto as they'd gotten tattoos of each other's names that one crazy night. A pained smile broke across his tear-stained face. "We had a good ride though, huh?" And that made him ponder. Maybe they were all on the highway to Hell and all they could hope for was a good time before the inevitable crash and burn. He and James had gotten that. They'd had a hell of a good time. He just wished it would've been longer.

Dean raised the wine bottle again and drank more to her memory, hissing against the acidic tang before he turned the bottle upside down and let the contents pour out at the foot of her grave. "Enjoy your terrible wine, Braceface," he said, going way back and calling her by the nickname his teenage self had given her. He smiled to himself a little, remembering that skinny giraffe-necked girl with acne and braces who he'd never have imagined falling in love with back then. He remembered a couple months back chasing her through the bunker when they'd had it to themselves and how she'd shrieked with laughter and spilled her whiskey everywhere when he caught her and kissed her against a wall. They'd been like teenagers again. She took him back to a place of youth and carefree exhilaration that he didn't ever think he'd see again. But at least they'd had a little while together. That was better than nothing. At the very least, he knew he'd made her last days on earth less lonely. And that counted for something.

"Maybe when I finally kick the bucket we can raise a little Hell together, huh?" he asked, eyes glistening as pain burst anew in his chest. He didn't see himself ending up in Heaven. And honestly, right now, he didn't want to.

Just take me wherever she is. When I close my eyes the last time, I wanna be with her again.

He lifted the empty wine bottle toward her grave and emotionally dragged himself up the mountain. He didn't think he would ever see her again, truthfully. But there would always be a chance. "Here's to somedays and maybes," he said softly, realizing that this really was goodbye. His voice wavered, losing strength. "You were my grand finale too." And what a finale it had been. This really was the end. After today, Dean would not think about her and he would not allow himself to remember. Because it hurt too much and it tempted him too greatly to go against everything he believed in.

Some people stayed dead. And Jamie was going to have to be one of them.

Alex got halfway through one chess game and got too distracted by her hunger to care anymore. Cas and Sam played instead and they got really into it. Cas was an incredible opponent and really enjoyed the element of strategy—Sam didn't even have a chance of winning because of the ability the angel had to think twenty steps ahead, but he was trying anyway and obviously loved the challenge, too. It was dragging on forever and Alex watched in rising internal distress because she was literally so hungry she was about to go nuts. She was just about to tell Cas 'screw it, take me to the closest buffet,' when the bunker door sounded. Craning her neck to see through the library door and into the command center, Alex saw Dean jogging down the stairs with grocery bags. "God, finally," she muttered, jumping up and making a beeline toward him.

He was already in the kitchen by the time she caught up to him. He was setting the bags down on a counter as she got to the doorway. At his brief, unreadable glance, she remembered that they weren't on the best of terms and she stopped short of him. His eyes were bloodshot and his expression weary. "Hey," she said cautiously.

He looked exhausted—more so than when he'd left. And that was when Alex felt a keen sense of sudden suspicion. He'd been gone too long to have just gotten these few things. And he hadn't even gotten any beer. She happened to know they were out, yet he had forgotten it? Or not gotten it on purpose? Both options were not in his character. "Hey," he echoed, then grabbed and tossed a bright blue box from his purchases and flung it at her. "Poptarts?"

She caught it deftly, a little surprised at the sudden action. She hadn't asked for these, but she recognized this as a thoughtful gesture—a peace offering. Poptarts were one of her classic favorites. This was clearly him trying to say without saying so that he was sorry and that he did care despite his somewhat heartless behavior earlier. "Strawberry," she said, reading the label briefly then looking up at him tentatively, a little wary smile on her face. "My favorite."

Dean pulled a joking face that he obviously had to work hard to make happen. "Duh. Why you think I got 'em?" Even though Alex was so hungry she could have eaten her own hair at that point, she was overcome with compassion and empathy. She walked over and set down the box because she recognized that Dean was close to crying—or had been crying. Even as she was going to him to hug him (not sure if he'd reject the touch or not), he was crumbling apart. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he choked out, hugging her as tight as she hugged him. His voice was muffled and his breathing was ragged from distress and it got her emotional fast, too. "I'm just—I'm not okay," he confessed brokenly. She knew that. Of course she knew that—and she just nodded silently, clamping her arms around her big brother tighter to try and tell him it's okay. Tears were in her eyes too because she adored this man—and she hated the oceans that pooled between them now. She just wanted to be best friends again. She just wanted him to be okay. Dean was trying so hard to get himself back together, but he was clearly having a very hard time even speaking. His voice was a mangled, choked caricature of its usual strong timbre and his fingers dug into her bruisingly hard. "You know I love you right?" he asked in a voice that was high-pitched and fearful.

It relieved her so much to hear him ask that. "Yeah Dean," she said quietly to keep herself in check as she nodded yes, "I know."

He abruptly pulled back and held her by the arms and looked at her with this pained, vulnerable expression on his face. One she hadn't seen there in a long time. "No, I really do," he insisted, and she nodded again. I know. Dean looked at her with this unreadable expression then shook his head. "Just—don't you ever do that shit again, you hear me?"

Alex tried to be light about it. "Just wanted to follow the family tradition of going to Hell," she offered. Maybe that was in bad taste.

Dean definitely didn't appreciate the joke. "Not funny, Al."

Too soon. He was right. She gave an apologetic little expression and then hugged him again. "It's gonna be okay Dean," she promised, ignoring her stomach and its hunger pangs as she soothed her much bigger brother. "All of this. You, me, Sam… Dad… everything." Because it had to be. Dean said nothing, just nodded and held onto her tightly for a long, sad moment.

A soft sound caused the embrace to end. Dean and Alex looked over to see that Sam was at the doorway, watching with a tentative smile on his face. "Hey," he said, entering the room and coming over to join them.

Dean dragged a hand across his face and composed himself, becoming more dogged. He had his I'm-about-to-tell-it-how-it-is face on. A face that the twins had seen many times and would see many times more again. "Look guys… I'm tired. I'm not doing good. I'm… I dunno if I'll ever be okay again. I don't." He looked bereft of how to feel about that and both of his siblings wore similarly vexed expressions at his words. "But we're… we're gonna do this thing," he said firmly. "We're gonna rally one last time if it kills me. And we're gonna do these goddamn trials." He looked at Sam and then Alex pointedly. Meaningfully. "Together. Because this is important. And the three of us, that's what we do. Important." He paused and then looked at the doorway, prompting the twins to do the same. The angel in the trench coat was there, watching silently. Dean gestured at him with a hand. "And Cas too I guess huh. Keepin' it in the family and all that jazz." Family. None of them missed the significance of what Dean had just called Cas.

Sam studied his brother carefully, seeing what Alex had seen. "Dean…" he began sensitively. "If you need to talk about her…"

Dean shook his head firmly and spoke in a hard, firm voice. "I can't talk about that. I won't." He turned and began to unbag the food he'd bought methodically. "We just need to shut that part of my life away if you want me to function." He set out a box of popcorn, M&Ms, spray cheese, a can of sardines. "We don't talk about her again. Ever. Understood?" He gave his brother an especially warning look before he resumed his task.

Sam nodded, but he looked worried. "Whatever you need, Dean," he said quietly, then cleared his throat and switched to business, honoring his brother's wishes for now. "So uh, I might have some kinda lead on an out-of-the-ordinary demonic possession. Found an old film reel downstairs in the—"

"God, where did you learn manners?" Dean asked, cutting Sam off and causing him to look, too.

Alex stopped briefly—she was cramming two poptarts into her mouth like a squirrel and Dean was apparently insulted. "From you?" she answered, and crumbs flew everywhere. She resumed shoveling the pastries into her mouth haphazardly as Cas drifted into the kitchen to stand near to her and curiously look through the food items.

Dean looked grossed out at what his sister was doing. "Have you ever seen yourself eat?" he asked, hassling her in familiar old goading fashion. "It's disgusting." He looked at Sam for support, but Sam just looked faintly amused. After all, Dean was the king of looking disgusting while eating.

Alex didn't seem to care about Dean's opinions. "Kiss my ass," she said, digging through the food purchases with one hand. She stopped when she didn't find what she was looking for them. She looked at Dean almost warningly. "Where's the spicy pickles?"

He shook his head. "Didn't have them," Dean said, shrugging offhandedly.

"Well you could have gotten the regular kind!" Alex exclaimed hotly, giving him a look like he had really dropped the ball on that one.

Dean gave her an odd look at the strange outburst. "Uh—oops?" A little suspicious of her, he slowly tore his gaze away from her and looked at Sam, who he had cut off a minute ago. "So where's this movie we're gonna watch? It got some full frontal action?" He grinned at his own stupid joke and then everyone looked to see what was happening when they heard a sound like many tiny marbles hitting the floor. Cas stood there with a bag of popcorn which he had apparently ripped open by accident. All around his feet, unpopped kernels had scattered. "Uh. Cas?" Dean asked in stilted patience. "Whatcha doing buddy?"

Cas looked at the bag and then the fallen kernels in slight mystification. "I spilled everything," he said gruffly, then crouched down to pick up a kernel. Alex chortled, still chewing poptarts even as she ripped the bag of M&Ms open.

"Yeah, not how you make popcorn, dude," Dean said to Cas, and then balked when the kernel Cas picked up abruptly popped into a fluffy white shape after a short pulse of light burst between the angels fingers. Dean pulled a face that showed he was reconsidering what he'd just said. "Or… maybe it is."

Sam smiled crookedly and said, "I'll get the broom," even as Cas stood and offered Alex that single piece of popcorn. She took it, popped it into her mouth, and pecked Cas on the lips. Dean muttered something about 'fucking PDA' and Alex threw an M&M at his head to which he yelped indignantly and she grinned sloppily through a mouthful of food. Sam swept up the popcorn kernels dutifully and was so glad to hear instances of laughter in the bunker. To hear Alex and Dean bickering in good, loving nature as well as Cas's weird questions and odd comments was… good. Nice. Sam looked around and realized with a warming heart that for the first time in awhile, he felt like he was home. Home.