Sam Winchester was onto something big. He was chasing a myth of a lead, gathering the pieces of a puzzle as old as hell itself. The further down the rabbit hole he wandered, the hotter his curiosity burned, the more the case consumed him. It was the hunt of a lifetime. If his information was right, if what he was chasing was real and not just the misleading coalescence of millenias worth of superstition and fantasy, this case might be the last he ever worked. Hell, it could be the last case any demon hunter ever worked.

Sam Winchester was a little busy these days to check his voicemail. When he finally did remember to pull his family line out of his glove compartment, he realized he had five missed messages from his brother.

"Oh crap."

Sam didn't need to listen to them to know what they were about. The date made it obvious. Still, he felt he owed it to Dean to hear what he'd had to say.

"Heya Sammy! Haven't heard from you since you forgot about Christmas... I gotta say man, you messed up on that one. Missed a real good time. Mary misses you, by the way. I know you're busy, I know you've got something big in the works, but it's hard to explain that kind of thing to a six year old. Drop us a line sometime, huh? Don't make me track your ass down and drag you here."

The message was dated a week after Christmas. Nearly a month old. Sam could have strangled himself.

I had an exciting break, I got caught up chasing it. Dean would understand, he justified to himself. Dean didn't know what he was doing, didn't know what he was looking into. From where he was standing, Sam was just a forgetful jerk.

He played the next message.

"Hey Sam. Mary's birthday is in two weeks. I'm dropping you the line extra early this time. No excuses, man. Come through for her, huh? You know you want to. Take some time off, for crying out loud. The job isn't everything."

And the next.

"Sam, I don't know where you are or what you're doing. Mary's party is tomorrow and all she's talking about is how she can't wait to see you there. Come on, dude, call me back. If you're not coming, at least tell me so I can break it to her gently. You're gonna break the poor kid's heart."

"Oh... oh no," Sam moaned, running his fingers through his hair. "Damn it!"

He resolved to make it up to them. Especially Mary.

The last two messages were both from today. Sam assumed it was Dean calling to yell at him for being an asshole. He almost stopped the messages from playing, but decided he needed to see this through. And afterwards, call Dean and explain himself.

"Sam. Call me back when you get this. It's... it was a rough night. Wish you would have showed up yesterday. Might have... well, I guess it wouldn't have mattered. Mary misses you though. Hope you're watching your back. Don't forget, call me."

Somehow, Dean's exhausted, plaintive words hit Sam harder than any amount of cursing his big brother could have put him through. Dean sounded like he'd been through the ringer.

The next message was recorded only an hour and a half later, but its tone was fervent and panicked, the opposite of its weary predecessor.

"Mary's gone, Sam! Alice took Mary! Call me RIGHT NOW!"

The short message made Sam's head spin at the same time as it froze his blood in his veins. Alice was dangerously unpredictable on her best day, conscienceless and ruthless on her worst. Questions filled Sam, rising with his anxiety and swirling through his head like a blizzard as he hit the call button.

"Dean? What happened?"

"Sam, you need to haul ass out here right now!" Dean barked through the phone. "Where are you?!"

"About that. I'm in Sonora."

"What, like the desert?"

"No. Well, yes. I'm in the state Sonora."

"What?!"

"I'm in Mexico right now, Dean."

"What the hell are you doing in Mexico? You know what, nevermind! Drop what you're doing, we need your help!"

"Dean, what happened? I'm coming, but you need to calm down and fill me in, man."

"Don't tell me to calm down! Mary's gone and-"

"Dean! Seriously, get a handle on yourself!" Sam insisted firmly. "You're no good to anyone in a tail-spin. Catch me up so I can help. I'm driving as we speak."

On the other end of line, Dean's heavy breathing steadied one breath at a time.

"Alice showed up here last night. She said she wanted to see Mary."

Sam frowned as Dean went on. The story didn't make sense to him. It didn't sound right. When Dean was finished, Sam was left with more questions than he'd had before he was filled in.

"That doesn't sound like Alice," he said, chewing his lip as his mind raced with disturbing possibilities.

"Sam, no one's seen or heard from Alice in seven years. Who the hell knows what does and doesn't sound like Alice these days?"

This was gonna get awkward. Sam chewed his lip and considered holding his silence, but the situation was too serious, the consequences too dire for him to worry about something as trivial as Dean getting mad at him.

"Actually, that's... that's not true, Dean," he revealed. "I've been in touch with Alice here and there."

"You... what?"

"Yeah. Matter of fact, we worked a case together last July. That was the last I heard from her, but I gotta say man, I don't buy that she suddenly decided to reach out. Especially not to Mary. She knows better than that."

"Hold on, back up," Dean said. His tone was dazed like someone had hit him over the head while Sam was speaking. "I'm still on 'you're in touch with Alice'. Sam, how long have you two been in touch?"

"Uh..."

Sam considered lying, but didn't see the good it would do him at this point.

"Well, she reached out to me a few years ago."

"How many years ago?"

"Uh... five... six or uh... so."

"Dude."

Sam had managed to render Dean completely speechless.

"I don't even know what I'm supposed to say to that, Sammy."

"Look, my point is, whatever showed up at Allison's house, whatever took Mary, I don't think it's Alice," Sam said, feeling the need to steer the conversation back to its roots.

"Well it was definitely a shapeshifter."

"Ok."

"It knew things only Alice would know."

"So? We've run across mind-reading shapeshifters before," Sam reminded him. "You know what this means, Dean."

"Yeah. If it's not Alice, if it's just wearing her face, Mary's not the only one on the hot plate."

"I'm gonna let you go and try Alice's cell."

"Wow. Try her cell. So you've got Alice's cell."

"Dean. Task at hand? Mary?"

"Yeah, I got it. Allison's working a tracking spell."

"Tracking spell? What about Cas?"

"Cas is dead to me."

"Every time I turn around Cas is dead to you," Sam rebutted. It might have been funny if the situation wasn't so grave. "Call me back when you're on the move."

"Yeah."

Sam hung up, accelerating in the direction of the border as he dialed Alice's number for the first time in six months. As the line rang and rang, a memory crept up on him unbidden, a recollection of one of the last times he'd seen Alice.

"Independence Day's tomorrow. You gonna miss another family holiday, Sam?"

Alice sharpened a machete in the passenger seat, passing time while they staked out the home of a dentist. Sam shook his head.

"You're one to talk," he said combatively. "Remind me, when was the last time you made it to a family party?"

"Pfft. Hard to make it to family occasions when you don't have a family. Look, I didn't mean anything by it, ok? I'm just saying, I can handle this if you have somewhere to be. I know Dean gets on your case about it."

"How?"

"Sam, your family line doesn't have a password. Anyone could listen to those messages."

"You're such a piece of work," Sam scoffed. "How about instead of living vicariously through me, you show up to one of Dean's barbeques one of these days?"

"Ugh. And deal with all that drama? No thanks."

"Come on, I'll go with you and buffer against the drama."

"Sam, it's been years. It's too late for me to show up trying to horn my way into..."

Alice trailed off. Sam watched her expression change from teasing to annoyed, watched her head shake as her lips formed a hard, thin, unamused line.

"How come every time we work a case together it turns into you trying to make me bother your brother?" she demanded. The blade of the machete hit a sour spot on the stone, creating a screech that set Sam's teeth on edge.

"Why do you assume you'd be bothering him?"

"Why do you hate a straight answer so much?"

"That's a good question, Alice. Right back at you."

"You're a tool, that's why."

"Ok, well you're a dumbass. Come on, Alice, give me a serious answer. Just once. Why are you so scared to face Dean?"

"I'm scared of jack shit."

Sam rolled his eyes with a beleaguered sigh and gave up. He knew from experience he had hit a wall. If he had a nickel for every time they'd had discussions in this vein, he might have enough money to bribe Alice into giving Dean a call and mending fences. She always deflected or dodged, avoiding anything that approached a meaningful, honest talk. Whatever she truly felt on the matter, she seemed determined to take it to her next grave.

Alice surprised Sam by having one more thing to say.

"Things are better this way. He's better off..."

Sam watched Alice expectantly, but her moment of earnesty was gone as quickly as it came and with just as much warning.

"... at least, he would be if you'd act like a halfway decent brother and show up for the holidays."

Alice held the machete out to him blade up for inspection.

"Whatcha think? Humane? Or do I need to give it another couple passes?"

Sam's relationship with Alice was complicated. Hell, he didn't know anyone who had a simple relationship with the woman, but Sam had the unique experience of having accumulated more good times with her than bad. Wherever she was, whatever was really going on, he hoped she was alright.

"Don't leave me a message," came Alice's prerecorded voice. "Lose this number. That means you, Sam. Unless you've got something fun for me to kill. In which case, by all means, spill the beans after the beep."

Sam hung up and tossed his phone onto the passenger seat. He was about four hours out from Allison's LA home. He stepped on the gas. He could cut that time in half if he tried hard enough.

True to her word, Alice took Mary out for waffles. Mary tapped her feet and her eyes darted around. Her little brow furrowed and creased anxiously as she took in all the sounds and smells and sights.

"I get the feeling you don't get out much," Alice observed as they ate.

Mary shook her head quietly.

"Dean and Allison probably keep you hidden for the most part," Alice went on, taking more to herself than Mary. "Makes sense. They don't want you freaking out the locals, don't want other hunters catching your scent. It's smart. I wondered how a little baby shifter could escape my detection for so long. Usually I find our kind faster."

She noticed Mary picking at her waffles, fidgeting in her seat. Every time someone passed their booth, she turned away and inspected her nails under the table, miming preoccupation in an attempt to blend in and go unnoticed. She did a good job. Dean and Allison had trained her well in the art of being a wallflower. Such a cute kid should have drawn compliments from everyone who saw her, but Mary knew how to make herself next to invisible.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Alice said. Mary was sheltered in an emotional shell that would keep her at arm's length from Alice. It wouldn't do. Alice needed her trust. "You wanna do something fun before we go back home?"

"Like what?" Mary asked, leaning in. Even excited, she was still apprehensive.

"How about I teach you a little more about shape-changing?" Alice offered temptingly.

"Can you teach me how to stop doing it?" Mary asked, perking up as she jumped at the bait. This wasn't quite what Alice had been hoping to get at, but she could work with it.

"Sure," Alice said. "Come on. We can't do it here."

She led Mary outside and into her car.

"So the first thing you're gonna want to do is think really hard about someone else," Alice told her.

"Why?"

"Well, let me explain it like this. You can't stop a habit until you know why it happens, right? Like... I don't know if this was ever a problem for you, but some kids wet the bed at night."

"Like Madison Sanders little brother."

"Exactly like that. Well, maybe her little brother is drinking a glass of water before bed, right? So that's why he has accidents later. Or you could think about... drunk drivers. Do you know about drunk drivers, Mary?"

Mary shook her head with a mystified expression.

"Well, how about alcohol? I watched your Dad put away beers all night. You must know what that is."

"You mean his grown-up sodas?"

"Yes, grown-up sodas. See, those can make you act very silly and feel very funny. And if you drive a car after you drink one, it'll make you crash. See the cause and effect?"

"I guess."

Alice could tell she was losing Mary's interest.

"Anyway, your shifting is just like any other accident. If you want to stop the accident, you have to know what causes it. Stop drinking water before bed, don't drink grown-up sodas before you drive."

"I can't drink water anymore? Won't I die?" Mary asked, hopelessly confounded by Alice's long explanation.

"No, it's just an example. What I'm getting at is that you need to understand why you change shapes before you can learn how to stop."

"Oh. Ok, I get it now. You should have just said that," Mary said, tone almost scolding.

"Next time I won't beat around the bush," Alice promised.

"So why do I change shapes?"

"Well... how about we do a little exercise?"

"Ok."

"I keep hearing about this Madison Sanders. Is she your friend?"

"No," Mary huffed, crossing her arms over her chest with a scowl. "Madison Sanders rides up and down the street on her brand new bike all day every day and only stops to make fun of me for staying in the house all day and never having anyone over."

"Wow. Want me to beat her up for you?" Alice offered.

"No, I already beat her up. I got grounded from the tv for a whole month."

Alice laughed and clapped, despite Mary's pout.

"I love it, I love it. I bet it was worth it though, huh?"

Mary shook her head, but a small smile tugged the corners of her mouth and her eyes were alight with secret glee that she struggled to hide.

"Come on, it's ok. I like it when people get what's coming to them too," Alice coaxed.

"Well... yeah, it did feel awfully good," Mary admitted, smile widening as Alice's flippancy emboldened her to let loose a little herself.

"You have to stick up for yourself in life, Mary. Otherwise everyone and their mother'll be walking all over you before you know it. Never forget that."

Mary nodded.

"Now, how about you get a real clear picture of Madison Sanders in your head?"

"What for?"

"Just to see if you can. Take your time."

Mary closed her eyes, her features pinching up in concentration.

"Every detail. Think about her eyes, think about her hair. Her skin, her nails, her teeth, how tall she is, even the way she moves. Make that picture so clear it's like she's standing in front of you."

Alice looked on as the sounds of a shift filled the car, slimy squelching, quick crunches and swift, muted sliding and grinding. In only a few seconds, a new child sat in her passenger seat, covered in pink mucus. No nails, no hair, no shed skin, Alice noted.

"Wow. You're a natural," she observed. "I haven't seen adults able to shift so fast and so clean, nevermind someone your age."

"Oh no!" Mary gasped, eyes flying open. She looked down frantically, holding her hands up and shaking them free of the slimy coating of viscera. "Oh no, Auntie Ally's going to kill me!"

She started to hyperventilate and screwed her eyes shut again, fists clenched in the light pink dress she wore. This time, the transition came slower, messier.

"You have to calm down," Alice instructed her. "When you're not thinking about it, it happens fast. You're putting too much pressure on yourself, overthinking it. Don't try to change. Just make a picture in your head and let your body do the rest. It knows what to do."

Despite Alice's advice, Mary's panic didn't subside and her changes came reluctantly, one at a time. She shed everything and built herself up anew. Skin and blood oozed from the neck and sleeves of her dress, plopping onto the seat and floor of Alice's car with heavy wet splats. Mary spat out teeth and lost hair in uneven clumps. When she was finally finished, she fixed Alice with an irate glare.

"Take me home," she demanded.

"But we're not done lear-"

"Take me home!" Mary yelled, hitting the sides of the seat with her fists in her anger.

"Mary, I'm sorry if I-"

"I WANT TO GO HOME!"

Alice winced as Mary's shriek ricocheted in the confined space of the car cabin, scraping her ear drums and making her skull vibrate.

"I WANT TO GO HOME! TAKE ME HOME!"

"OK! OK! STOP SHOUTING! I'M GOING!"

Alice started the car while Mary caught her breath after her outburst.

"Mary, don't be mad at me," Alice begged. "I didn't mean to-"

"I'm going to be in SO much trouble when Auntie Ally sees me!" Mary spat, crossing her arms tight. Discarded flesh squeaked and squeezed from beneath her dress when she moved.

"Well, we can clean you up before she sees you," Alice said, trying to recover from her blunder. She'd miscalculated. Allison and Dean had done more of a number on the child than she anticipated. "No one ever has to know."

"We've already been gone for so long!"

"It won't take long, I promise!"

"It better not!"

If Alice wasn't so worried that she was losing Mary's confidence, she might have been amused by how strong-willed the little girl was. She was definitely keeping this one.

"Is it almost done?!"

"Dean, back off!"

Allison snapped and swatted at Dean, hovering anxiously over her shoulder in the dark dining room. The curtains were drawn and the only light came from a single candle in the center of the table. Allison carefully measured ingredients out of jars and vials coated with a generous layer of dust from years of disuse.

"You're taking too long!" Dean groaned, pacing at her back with his hands on top of his head, nerve-wracked fingers trying futilely to twist through hair that was too short to grip. "We don't know how long she's been gone for! Alice could be taking her anywhere, she could be an hour away by now, she could-"

"You need to sit your ass down and stow it!" Allison barked. "Give me a hair!"

She held her hand out while Dean tried and failed to pull some. He growled in frustration after a few attempts, then gave up. He pulled out and flipped open a pocket knife. The stark, metallic snap tore through the dark, quiet room like a thunder clap. Dean sheared off a few hairs and placed them in Allison's waiting palm. She sprinkled them into the bowl, added water and started grinding the mess together. Dean chewed his lip and thumped his foot rapidly against the laminate flooring while he counted seconds and the air was filled with the scraping of pestle against mortar.

"Mary's fine," Allison said. Dean's nervous leg was driving her insane, but she knew no amount of yelling would make him stop. "Alice won't hurt her."

"And if it's not Alice?"

"What the hell else could it be, Dean? How could it find us, what would it want with Mary?"

"Sam said-"

"Oh, what does Sam know about it!"

"Allison, it makes more sense and you know it!" Dean insisted. "You know Alice! You know she didn't want to be a mother."

"That was a long time ago!"

"Yeah, well some things never change, and Alice is one of them! We have to assume the worst, Allison! We have to get a move on!"

"I'm going as fast as I can!"

"I know! I know, I just... I'm sorry, I know."

Dean decided to let it go and leave Allison to her work, but his words had already done their job without him even realizing it.

"She did say something really weird," Allison admitted. "When we were fighting, she said... what was it? 'She's ours', or 'she's one of us', or something like that."

"What? And that didn't sound weird to you at the time?!" Dean demanded.

"She played it off, talking about how she wanted Mary named Smith, but with hindsight-"

"Hindsight?! Allison, you should have known that thing wasn't Alice the minute it said anything about the Smiths that didn't involve stabbing them!" Dean scolded. "You should have called me! You could have stopped this whole mess!"

"This is NOT my fault!" Allison yelled, abandoning her work to round on Dean furiously. "Don't you DARE blame me for this! I'll remind you that you were up all night talking to the damn thing and you didn't catch on either, so don't you DARE-"

"Fine, whatever, will you PLEASE get back to work?!" Dean shouted, nudging her back toward the table.

"Touch me again and I'll shoot you!"

"Save it for the son of a bitch that's got Mary! Come on, Allison! The clock is ticking!"

"I KNOW IT IS!"

Allison picked the pestle up again, smashing it so hard into the mortar that the bowl cracked down the middle, falling to pieces and spilling its contents out onto the table.

"ALLISON!"

"SHUT UP, ASSHOLE, THIS IS YOUR FAULT!"

"WILL YOU GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER AND GET THIS SPELL DONE?! HELL, I'LL DO IT MYSELF IF YOU DON'T!"

Allison wanted to tackle Dean, wanted to slap the attitude out of him, but she grounded herself, packed her pride away and allowed him to have the last word for once.

"It's ok, it's ok," she muttered, more to comfort herself than reassure Dean. "It's done anyway. Where's the compass?"

"I thought you had it!"

"It was on the table, where-"

Alice spotted it behind the candle and grabbed it, prying it open.

"Dean, go start the car!" she ordered tersely. "I'll be right out!"

Dean jogged out without another word, keys in hand, jingling all the way. Allison took a deep breath, steadying her hands as she finished the spell, relieved to be alone. Without Dean in the room pressuring her, she expected to feel better, but she was wrong. She realized she actually felt worse. She would never admit it to him, but he was right. This was her fault. She should have seen through the fraud that masqueraded as her little sister. She'd been so excited to see her after so many years, so willing to believe that the discrepancies in her character were just the result of nearly a decade of separation. She'd willfully ignored her gut instinct, allowed herself to make excuses for the creature, given it just enough opportunity to take the thing Allison treasured most in the world.

What if they couldn't find Mary? What if they never saw her again? Even worse, what if they found her too late?

Boiling tears pricked Allison's eyes as nightmarish scenarios raced through her mind. She was helpless, unable to ward them off, unable to quell the surges of agony, guilt and regret that swept through her.

She would never forgive herself for letting this happen.

Finally, the spell was complete. The compass needle circled viciously for a moment, then settled decisively in the east.

Allison let out a ragged, long-held breath and made for the door. She grabbed her jacket on the way out and a duffel bag full of silver.

"Got her!" she said breathlessly as she joined Dean in the impala, slapping the compass down on the dash.

"You got everything?" he asked, nodding to the duffel as she tossed it into the back seat.

"Yeah."

"Good. Let's go kill this thing," he growled.

Allison was about to agree with him, but she paused. Doubts still lingered in the back of her mind, contrary to all the facts at this point. She was still unable to shake them.

"Dean, what if it's really Alice?" she asked.

"There's an easy way to tell."

Dean pulled a small crucifix out of his pocket. Allison was confused until he handed it to her and she felt its weight and rough surface.

"Iron?"

"I've got that, salt, and the fireplace poker. If it's Alice, she won't be too happy if I hit her with any of the above," Dean explained, savagely satisfied with his plan.

"And if it is her?"

"So what if it is?"

"Well, then what?"

"Then I'm gonna kill the crap out of her!"

"How?" Allison demanded. "Let's forget for a second that I won't let that happen-"

"Allison, come on!"

"She's still my sister!"

"She took Mary! Serious dick move, ESPECIALLY if it's Alice! Hell, if it's Alice, it's worse than if it's some random monster! Alice owes us more than that!"

"Dean, even if that WAS enough reason to kill her-"

"IT IS!"

"Even if it WAS, how the hell do you expect to swing something like that? Or did you forget what she is?" Allison demanded.

"I'll find a way," Dean insisted. "My priority is getting Mary, back. After that, I'm ganking the thing that took her! I don't care if it's a shifter, a ghost, or the damn Easter bunny! I'm killing it! Preferably slowly and painfully, but I'll settle for anything as long as it stop breathing!"

Allison shook her head, but let it go. Dean wasn't dropping the subject so easily.

"What? Are you seriously gonna sit there and tell me you could let this thing walk?!"

"I just want Mary back," Allison said, rubbing her forehead as a headache settled beneath her fingertips. "That's all I'm worried about right now. And that's all you should be worried about. Leave revenge for later for once. Damn Winchesters. You all need to learn how to walk the fuck away."

Dean set his jaw and gripped the steering wheel tighter, but finally gave it a rest. He and Allison could butt heads til the cows came home. Neither would ever back down.

They were no good to Mary if all they could do was fight with each other.

"I want her back too," he said, tone low and level. Rage still lurked deep in his voice, but he kept it contained, wrapping it up to save for later. "You're right, this time. She's all that matters."