Sam Winchester wouldn't necessarily call himself as expert when it came to witch magic (or anything else of that kind) but when he was confronted with something bad, he knew it was bad.

"A hex?" he questioned. Just saying the word in relation to Ali made his skin crawl. "How'd she even pick something like this up?"

"Yeah, this thing is old," Dean said, flicking through to the next page to see if there was any more information. "And dark."

"She got it from a witch," Bobby replied. "There's no doubt about that." The Winchester brothers couldn't understand it. How on earth had Ali managed to get hexed whilst spending all her time with them? It didn't make any sense.

"I thought hexes had to be used with some kind of cursed object?" Sam asked. "Like a coin or a hex bag."

"Usually, they do," Bobby agreed. "But not always."

"I've never heard of a sigil being used as a hex," Dean said with a frown.

"Well according to this," Bobby started, gesturing to the text. "The sigil isn't actually the hex. The sigil is used to bind the hex to the target, but that's it."

"So, Ali's the target?" Sam questioned. Bobby nodded. "What does the hex do?" The older hunter sighed as he rubbed his scruffy beard anxiously. He knew they weren't going to like what he was about to say.

"Originally, the hex was used to cure people of conflicting thoughts or emotional turmoil. Witch covens used to cast them on their members to help them focus. Supposedly, if all their thoughts and emotions were congruent within them, their magic would be better. Something to do with clarity of mind."

"Okay," Dean said, still not fully understanding Bobby's explanation. "But Ali isn't a witch. Why would someone want to do that to her?"

"Like you said," Bobby continued. "This kind of magic is old. Hexes change over the years, some becoming more sinister. Witches started using it against their enemies to turn them against each other, though some still believe the hex has curative properties. Whoever gave to her might've thought they were doing her a favour."

"A favour," Dean scoffed as he stood up. "You call giving someone a hex a favour!" He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to wrap his head around what Bobby was saying.

"So how does it work?" Sam asked. "How does it cure people of emotional turmoil?" He spoke like the words sounded ridiculous.

"The hex works by splitting the mind into two parts," Bobby explained. "These parts become isolated from one another, forming different conscious states."

"Like different personalities?" Sam questioned. He nodded.

"Sometimes they're aware of the other's existence, but sometimes not at all. They can have different agendas, different motivations, different memories… the works. The point of them is that they're supposed to vie for control, and which ever one is stronger, gets to take the reins. And that's how the covens believed their witches could achieve congruent thoughts. If one of the two conflicting personalities could take over, the person would be able to focus because the conflict would be gone."

"That's what she said," Dean blurted out, his mind flashing back to earlier that day. "She said that because of her, Ali has the focus to get what she wants."

"What did it say she wants?" Bobby asked as he held his breath, unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer.

"Revenge," Dean replied, still unsure why she wanted revenge in the first place. Bobby shifted uncomfortably at Dean's words.

"But how could this help a person?" Sam cut in. "It doesn't make any sense."

"The hex has been altered from the way it was originally. Now, it doesn't so much split the mind," Bobby explained. "It takes ideas and traits from a person and creates a whole new persona from that, specific to each person. Whoever we have locked in my basement isn't Allison Venator. She might have her memories, but it's not her. The hex created a completely new person inside her head. It's a knock-off version who's only focused on destruction."

"So how do we get rid of it?" Dean asked. It was the question he'd been meaning to ask for the entirety of Bobby's explanation. He needed to know. He wanted to rip that thing out of her and kill it. He wanted Ali back. He wanted her safe.

"That's the thing," Bobby said despairingly. "According to the book, only when the conflict is resolved will the hex be broken."

"Are you saying the only thing we can do is wait until one of them wins control over the other?" Sam asked. "What if it's not Ali?" Bobby locked eyes with the younger Winchester but didn't say a word. That gave Sam his answer. Bobby didn't know.

"Are you frickin kidding me?" Dean asked. "We're supposed to just sit around and leave Ali's fate to a coin toss?"

"No," Bobby replied sternly. "But interfering with the hex before the conflict is complete could have drastic consequences." He sighed, his eyes shifting between the boys. "For all of us."


Dean stared at the girl in front of him, her blonde hair matted over her face. Her eyes seemed to mock him as he stood in the basement opposite her. Bobby was supposed to be the one down here with her, but Dean had convinced him to get some rest.

"I know what you are," he said, his voice even as he tried to remain strong and unafraid.

"Then you know I'm just a human, Dean," she replied, her face contorted into an expression of innocence. She didn't fool him. "I have a soul. I'm just like you," she tried. "Just like Ali."

"No, you're not," he said, his jaw tight as he slowly shook his head. "You're a virus. A vulgar parasite living inside a seventeen-year-old girl."

"I'm a person, Dean," she replied, her eyes sad. "It's not my fault if God didn't give me my own body."

"That doesn't mean you can hijack someone else's," he spat. Her eyes grew dark, the innocent façade melting away. "What's your name anyways?"

"I have many names," she replied, her voice almost sounding polyphonic. "But you can call me Electra."

"Electra?" he repeated back to her. A smirk fell on her lips. "I'm gonna find a way to get ridda you. And then I'm sending you right back where you came from." Her lips twitched up in a smile, the corners of her mouth creasing in amusement.

"Back where I came from?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. Dean realised his mistake and straightened up before turning to leave. "It's sad really." Her voice pulled him back and he turned to face her.

"What?"

"You see her every day," she said in a low voice. Her. Dean knew she meant Ali. "But you still don't see."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked with a frown.

"How alone she is," Electra told him. The elder Winchester tensed as he watched her. "She tries so hard to impress you, Dean. To make you proud. To feel like she's worthy." He swallowed, her words twisting deep within him. He tried to ignore her, but there was something poking at his brain that told him she was completely right. "It's all she thinks about. It consumes her."

"Stop," he said, his voice almost inaudible. He didn't want her to continue. He didn't want to have to hear the rest.

"But deep down, she knows she'll never be one of you," Electra continued. "She'll never be a Winchester. So, she created me. I was born from Ali's mind." Her voice was accusatory. "She needed me."

"She doesn't need you," Dean argued.

"She does," Electra snapped back. "I'm her escape. When I take over she doesn't have to deal with reality. She doesn't have to feel alone."

"She's not alone," he protested again. "She has me and Sam." He paused. "She has Bobby."

"Then why does she keep letting me in, Dean?" she asked, stepping closer as she raised her voice at him. "Why does she let me take over?" The elder Winchester shook his head. It was a mistake coming in here with her. It was a mistake to listen to anything she had to say. She was manipulative and destructive.

"You're lying," he said, turning once again to leave.

"Maybe," she said as Dean opened to door and shut it behind him. "Maybe not." Dean paused outside the door and out of Electra's view to hear her finish before he ascended the stairs. "It doesn't matter," she continued sinisterly. "Ali will be gone soon anyway."


Dean found Sam in Bobby's study, his nose buried in a book and his hand scrolling through a website on his laptop. Red and orange flames crackled in the fire place – the only source of warmth in the house, though it didn't do much to cut the icy feeling of dread that pervaded the property. Ever since Bobby had revealed what had happened to Ali, he'd been reading as much as he could on similar hexes to see if he could find a way to expel Electra from Ali's mind safely.

"No, but uh, I found something else," he informed his brother. "And you're gonna wanna hear this." Dean frowned and took a step closer to his brother, indicating for him to continue. "So, there's this note at the bottom on this page," he said, gesturing to the book that Bobby had found which told them all about the hex. "And I finished translating it." Dean raised his eyebrows at him.

"Well, what did it say?"

"It says that the sigil only reveals itself when the internal conflict it close to resolution," he replied.

"What does that mean?" Dean asked desperately, noticing how stressed Sam seemed.

"It means we're running out of time," he explained. "I mean, we have no idea how long that thing has been there. Dean, I – I don't know if we're gonna find a way to stop it." Dean released a long breath as he ran his hands over his face.

"What are we supposed to do?" he asked, shaking his head.

"I guess we just have to hope that Ali's strong enough to-."

"Strong enough?" Dean asked incredulously. "Ali hasn't been Ali in days! How's she gonna be strong enough to fight for control?"

"I dunno," Sam replied sombrely. Dean took a defeated seat next to his brother. "Maybe if we knew the witch that gave it to her we could figure out how to reverse it." The elder Winchester nodded, deciding that Sam was right.

They decided that divide and conquer was the best approach. Dean decided to check the girl's room whilst Sam looked through her things. There had to be some kind of clue to determine where Ali could've gotten the hex from.

What made things a little trickier though was the anklet. Through his reading, Sam had managed to work out its significance. It all came down to the tiny black stones Sam had identified as black tourmaline when he'd first noticed the girl wearing it a few weeks after they'd met.

"Bobby said it's for protection," Sam remembered Ali telling him. "But he didn't say what against."

"Well some people think it protects against black magic," Sam had informed her as he punched at the keys on his computer, pulling up numerous web pages to show her. "But it's more associated with positivity and protecting the mind."

The hex could've laid dormant, subdued by the protective qualities the anklet possessed, for months. As long as the anklet was on, the hex wouldn't've been able to infiltrate her mind. That was why Electra had seemingly been so afraid of it. She saw it as a threat.

Of course, this meant that the Winchester's were working from a seemingly infinite time frame. They had no idea how long it could've been since Ali picked up the hex.

"Found anything?" Dean asked as he riffled through another one of Ali's drawers. He knew she'd probably kill him for it later, but right now, he didn't care.

"Not yet," Sam said as he turned out the pockets of her jacket. "All I got is an empty packet of gum and a business card for Orientem Fortunes," he read, frowning at the name. "I thought Ali wasn't in to that kinda stuff."

"She isn't," Dean replied with a sigh, pulling out another drawer from the dresser. Sam let out a dry chuckle as turned over the card in his hands, his eyes suddenly widening.

"Hey Dean?" he said urgently, slapping his brother on the arm. "Check this out?" Dean left the half empty drawer on the ground and walked over to him. "Look at this pattern." He pulled the card from Sam's hand to get a closer look. It was faint and in the background, but it was most definitely the same.

The pair raced downstairs to the book containing the information about the hex. Dean stared at the pattern on the business card before looking at the pattern on the pages behind the information. They were identical.

"What does this mean?" Dean asked out loud.

"What does what mean?" a tired looking Bobby asked from the stairs, clearly having come down after hearing all the commotion from the Winchesters.

"Does the name 'Orientem Fortunes' mean anything to you?" Sam asked, holding up the business card to the older hunter.

"I don't know about fortunes," Bobby said, walking over to them. "But I've sure as hell heard of the Orientem Witches."

"Witches?" Dean asked apprehensively. Could it be that Ali had picked up the hex from a witch masquerading as a fortune teller?

"Yeah," Bobby replied. "They were a powerful coven back in the day, but a number of them went dark side, and hunters ended up having to destroy all of them. The magic they were using terrorised people. They killed hundreds until they were finally put a stop to," he explained. "Apparently the Venators played a big role in taking them down." Sam and Dean shared a look.

"Do you think that might be a reason they'd want to get revenge?" Dean asked wearily. "Like maybe on Ali?"

"I mean, in theory," Bobby replied. "But this all went down in the 1800s. We're talking a hundred and fifty years ago at least. And they were all killed."

"What if one of them survived?" Sam asked. "What if they gave the hex to Ali?" Bobby's blood ran cold as he stared at the card Sam was showing him.

"That's gotta be it," the younger Winchester replied. "Do you remember where she got that?" Dean's teeth gritted together as he nodded, feeling a thick blanket of guilt settle inside him.

"Yeah, I remember," he replied, his mind wandering to that godforsaken town he and Ali had spent a couple of days in whilst looking for Sam. "But it's hours away, Sammy. We don't have enough time." He was scared. Uncharacteristically, Dean Winchester was actually completely terrified by something.

"Well I guess we just have to hope…"

"Hope?" Dean yelled disbelievingly at his brother. "Who are we kidding, Sam? Electra's been in control the entire time. If we can't find a way to get her out of Ali's body, there's no stopping her!"

"What if we can't, Dean?" Sam asked back. "What do we do if Electra takes over and Ali's gone forever?" Dean swallowed thickly. He knew exactly what Sam was getting at. He was asking whether they'd have to kill her, just like John had warned him about Sam. "You promised Dad you'd do it to me."

"It won't get to that," Dean argued.

"And what if it does?" Sam shouted. The elder Winchester shook his head, trying to focus.

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he replied.

"No, you won't," Bobby replied, speaking up for the first time after hearing Sam and Dean argue over Ali's fate. "It's not your decision." The older hunter reached into one of the desk drawers and pulled out a riffle before turning towards the basement stairs.

"Bobby…?" Dean asked fearfully, but he didn't listen, already descending the steps to where the girl in question was.


"Which one of you is gonna do it?" the girl, Electra, asked, her eyes lowered, her voice empty. "You or Dean?" Bobby's jaw tightened as he held the rifle to his chest.

"Neither. We're not gonna hurt you, Ali," he replied as he stared at the girl he knew so well. Now, her body seemed like just a shell: the innocent enough exterior encasing something dark within. Her hollow eyes flickered from the rifle in his hands to his face as if she were daring him to pull the trigger. Truth be told, when Bobby had grabbed the weapon from his desk and headed down to the basement, he hadn't been sure what he'd do with it. Now, seeing the girl he considered family, he couldn't do it. He couldn't kill her.

Electra spoke with no emotion other than urgency.

"Come on," she enticed. "All three of you know there's no other way out. Whoever little miss Venator was is long gone now. You're only left with me." He eyes were so wild and erratic when she finished that Bobby thought she might explode into hysterical laughter. But she remained silent, the ever-growing distance between the two of them somehow elongating.

"Go on," she whispered. "You wouldn't be the first hunter to put a bullet in a Venator." Bobby's eyebrows raised in shock at her words, though he wasn't sure why. He knew exactly what she was referring to, but they hadn't spoke of it in years.

"Go on," she urged again as beads of sweat started to form on the hunter's forehead. "Do it." Her voice was intense and Bobby shut his eyes to try and block it out. "Do it!"

Bobby pulled back and with a shout of his own he fired the riffle, the bullet chipping off a piece of concrete on the wall behind where the girl stood. Her brow furrowed in shock and what seemed like anger. Bobby was gripping he weapon in front of him as he breathed heavily. His expression was a similar one of shock and grief as if he hadn't been sure whether he was really going to do it or not.

"I already had to kill my wife," he said, refusing to crack under the load of despair and grief he felt. "I will not kill my daughter too." With that, Bobby turned away from her, his eyes watering as he refused to cry. He slammed the metal door shut, taking a moment to compose himself before ascending the stairs of the basement.

He hated it. He hated not knowing how to help the people he cared about. He hated feeling like he couldn't do anything to stop the inevitable. But most of all he hated the fear. Even if none of them had the strength to put a bullet in the girl, he feared they would still lose her.


"I don't like this, Sammy," Dean said as he and his brother sat in the salvage yard surrounded by old cars and rust. "You know, with all the crap that's been going on with you, I've not been paying her any attention," he admitted, taking a sip of his drink. He'd switched from beer to whisky and was now halfway through one of Bobby's bottles. "I mean, maybe if I'd noticed something was up sooner she might've…"

"Dean," Sam said, clearing his throat. "It's not your fault."

"It is, Sam," he insisted, his eyes down cast. The sound of gunfire from the basement they'd heard whilst in the study had jolted both of them, though they were both relieved when Bobby finally emerged and told them that Ali was fine. Well, as fine as she could be given the circumstances. "I was supposed to be watching out for her." The guilt Dean felt was crushing. "She got hexed because I didn't do my job properly. That's on me."

"It's not your job to watch her twenty-four-seven, Dean," Sam said, trying to reassure his brother that he had nothing to feel guilty for. Truth be told, Sam felt his own guilt in the pit of his stomach. If he hadn't run off then Ali and Dean never would've been in that town in the first place on their way to look for him. "She's seventeen years old. You can't know where she is all the time."

"No." Dean shook his head. This was his fault. Nothing Sam could say would convince him otherwise. Even if part of the reason he and Ali had been in that town was because Sam ran off, that'd only happened because of him. If he'd been honest with Sam about his father from the start, none of this would've happened. "No, I should've been there. I let her go off alone – I didn't think." He spat the words, the anger he felt with himself evident in his voice. "Bobby trusted me to take care of her, and I let him down. I let her down." He laughed humourlessly. "You know, sometimes I wonder what we were thinking."

"Dean," Sam tried, sensing where his brother's train of thought was heading.

"I mean, what was I thinking? She's a kid! We were supposed to help her find what killed her brother and then she was supposed to come right back here," Dean said, monologuing his thoughts. It seemed like yesterday he and Ali had sat outside their motel rooms when they'd barely known each other. He remembered exactly what she'd said to convince him to help. It was what she'd said about her brother. "Two months," Dean said. "I gave her two months, and how long has it been now? Nearly a year?" He shook his head. "How did that happen?"

"Because she's more than just a case we never got around to solving, Dean," Sam said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, which to him, it was. "Because you care about her."

"I can't take care of her," Dean admitted sadly. "I can't take care of you." Sam shook his head. "I can barely take care of myself!" Sam wanted to protest, but Dean silenced him with a look as he took another long mouthful of his drink. "You know what, even if Ali gets through this…" His hands tightened around the bottle. "I'm not sure things will ever go back to how they were before. They can't."

"Do you think that's what Ali wants?" Sam asked incredulously. "Do you really think she wants out of the hunting game?"

"If it keeps her safe," Dean began. "I don't think I care." With that, he pulled himself up and made his way back inside. Sam sighed as he watched his brother leave. He didn't agree with what Dean had said. If Ali did make it through, there was no way she'd ever give up hunting. He saw the way she admired them, especially Dean. She seemed to light up whenever they were on a hunt. Sam thought it probably had something to do with Tyler. Bobby had mentioned to him at one point how alike he and Dean were. Sam knew that if the elder Winchester ever told Ali she couldn't hunt with them anymore, she'd be devastated. Even more importantly, it'd probably mean she'd try to hunt alone, meaning she'd be in even more danger.

But Sam couldn't blame Dean for what he had said. He'd always been the one to take responsibility for things when they went wrong, even from a young age. It was no surprise that Dean was taking the weight of what had happened to Ali the hardest. It was his fatal floor. He always thought it was his fault.


Time dragged by as Sam, Bobby and Dean flicked through journals, spell books and any other lore they could get their hands on to see if they could figure out how to save Ali. So far, the search hadn't come up with anything useful.

Dean turned back to the original book they'd found the hex in, staring at the sigil and rereading the paragraphs he'd looked at a hundred times in the last few hours. He couldn't understand how something like this could've happened right under his nose. Witches? Witches with an agenda that Ali's family thought they'd defeated years ago?

Another read of the book didn't give Dean any knew information and he found himself growing irritable. He needed to figure out how to get Electra out of Ali's body, and fast. Suddenly, an idea came to him. It wasn't exactly one he liked, but they were in no position to be picky.

"Sam?" The younger Winchester looked up expectantly. "We got any Van Van oil?" Sam frowned at his brother, but pointed towards the corner of the room anyway.

"Second shelf down," he said tentatively, his eyes following Dean across the room as he grabbed the jar of oil and made his way over to the fire place. "Dean, what are you doing?" Sam asked, his voice worried as he watched his brother dip the end of a fire iron in the Van Van oil and hold it in the flames.

"The book says the sigil binds the hex to the host, right?" Dean said, turning the metal rod in the fire until it started to glow a deep orange. "So, if we get rid of the sigil, maybe the hex will go with it." Sam stared at his brother, gobsmacked.

"You can't be serious?" he asked.

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Dean barked back, sending Sam a stern look.

"What's going on in here?" Bobby asked as he walked up the stairs from the basement having heard the disorder above.

"Dean's going to burn the sigil off her back," Sam yelled, pointing an accusing finger at his brother. "The book talks about what could happen if you interfere with the hex before its complete, Dean. There are gonna be consequences!"

"Yeah? And what consequence is worse that Electra taking over Ali's body permanently, huh?" he asked back. "What's worse than one of us having to put a bullet in her head?!" The younger Winchester glared back at his brother as they stared each other down. Dean was the first to break eye contact and sighed before returning the fire iron to the flames.

"Bobby, you can't think this is a good idea," Sam protested, now pleading with the older hunter to talk some sense into his brother. "He's only doing this because he feels guilty!"

"Enough!" Bobby was done listening to the two boys bicker about what was right for the girl they all cared about. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what was the right thing to do anymore. It seemed that whatever they did, the outcome wasn't what they wanted. What was that saying? Damned if you do…

Dean turned at Bobby's shout, sad eyes locking with the older hunter's.

"I have to do this, Bobby," he said grimly, his voice thick. "It's the only way to get her back." They stared at each other for a long moment, both unblinking and unsure of what the future held. Finally, Bobby nodded, his eyes downcast as he stepped to the side to let Dean pass.

The elder Winchester headed straight for the basement, Sam hot on his heels. He threw the cell door open and beelined for the girl who was sitting against the wall, her eyes wide when she saw the hot poker.

"What's that for?" she asked apprehensively as she shuffled away. "Dean, what are you doing?"

"What has to be done," he replied evenly, his mind only focused on the task he had to complete. If he let himself think about anything else, he wouldn't be able to do it. He couldn't let her get to him. He grabbed her by the shoulder with his free hand and pulled her away from the wall, trying to ignore the way she shuddered at his touch in fear. She squirmed in his grasp as she shouted for help, much like she had done earlier that day. It's not Ali. It's not Ali. He repeated it to himself over and over as he tried to keep her still.

"Sammy, a little help here?" he called to his brother, looking over his shoulder to see a similar look of fear on his face as the girl herself. Behind him, Bobby stood at the door, his eyes hard and misty.

"Dean, I…"

"Now Sam!" he barked, causing the younger Winchester to stumble over and take a hold of blonde girl's shoulders.

"You're gonna regret this, Winchester," Electra spat as she tried and failed to free herself from the pair's hold on her. Dean gritted his teeth together to keep a grip on himself. This was the only way. He didn't have a choice.

"Sorry Ali," he mumbled under his breath before pressing the hot fire iron against the sigil. She screamed, and this time it was real. Dean tried to block out the sound as the smell of burning flesh met his nose. He knew she was in pain. He knew Ali would be in pain. He shook his head, focusing on making sure he removed all traces of the black ink from her back.

Suddenly, as she screamed, it was like something was pushing out of her skin, trying to separate itself from her. Dean jumped back in shock, the iron clattering to the floor beside him as she stood up. It was like his vision had gone fuzzy, or like he was seeing double. But he knew he wasn't. It was as if Ali's body was splitting in two and one was stepping out of the other. The two divided, the new figure seeming ghost like. She was so translucent that Dean could see the outline of Sam standing behind her through her. Her eyes were dark, and the elder Winchester knew exactly which one she was.

He grabbed the iron from the floor and raised it to strike, but before he had a chance, her body seemed to evaporate right in front of him and she disappeared into thin air.

"Al?" Bobby said quietly, and Dean turned to see that he was staring at the blonde girl who was on the ground. She sat up, her eyes confused and disorientated. They seemed to focus when they caught sight of the older hunter who had stepped towards her.

"Bobby?" she asked in a similarly quiet voice. Dean sighed in relief. She was back. Ali held a hand to her forehead, her head feeling too heavy for her shoulders. Her eyes blinked deliriously and before anyone could say anything else, she slumped down on the concrete.


A few hours had passed since the hex had seemingly gone but the tension in the air was still dense. Ali had yet to regain consciousness, but after checking her over to make sure she was breathing and still had a pulse, Bobby had decided that she just needed rest. The burn on her back was pretty serious, but nothing that wouldn't heal with time. Bobby just hoped that was the only wound the hex had left.

"How'd you know the oil would work?" Sam asked as the three of them sat around the kitchen table, each sipping on a much-needed beer.

"I didn't," Dean admitted. "I just knew that it's supposedly meant to be able to get rid of evil." He shook his head to clear his thoughts as he cracked open another couple of bottles and offered one to Bobby. "Doesn't matter anyways. It's over now."

"Is it?" Sam asked, looking up from where he'd been absentmindedly fiddling with Ali's anklet. "I mean, what the hell was that thing?" His mind had replayed the image of the ghostly figure disappearing into the air a thousand times.

"Some kind of personified form of the hex?" Bobby suggested. "Electra, or whatever her name was."

"It doesn't matter what it was," Dean cut in dismissively. "It's not in Ali anymore. Electra's gone."

"But she's still out there, Dean," Sam argued. "We didn't kill her. We just… set her free."

"So, what?" the elder Winchester asked, suddenly irritated by how negative everyone was being. As far as he was concerned, this was a victory. "The book says the hex becomes specific to each person. Even if Electra is out there, she can't get into anyone else and she can't get back inside Ali as long as the sigil is gone." Sam sighed. He had to agree with Dean on this one. Even if Electra was now walking free, she couldn't harm anyone else.

"Is she gonna be okay?" he asked, his question directed at Bobby who nodded tiredly.

"We'll know more when she wakes up," he said. "But she should be fine." The three fell into silence, each of them thinking over the events of the last few days. It'd been non-stop since Ali had gone missing from the motel room and none of them had had a moment to process everything that'd happened.

"There's one thing I still don't understand," Sam said, breaking the silence. "Electra said that Ali wanted revenge. Revenge on Dean and I." Bobby stiffened, his hand holding the beer tightening around the bottle.

"She was probably talking about Tyler," Bobby said dismissively. "She messed with Ali's head and somehow twisted Tyler's death to make it seem like it was your fault."

"No," Sam said, shaking his head. "She said she wasn't talking about Tyler." Bobby could feel his palms go sweaty as Dean's eyes narrowed in thought.

"Then who was she talking about?" the elder Winchester asked, and Bobby realised that a secret he and a handful of others had tried to keep quiet for so long was finally being brought to the surface, and given Sam and Dean's curiosity, there was no way he could keep it buried for much longer.


AN: Hope you liked this chapter!

Would love to hear your thoughts on what you think might happen next? And do you think Dean's actions will have any consequences?

Let me know what you want to see more of/less of. Hope you all had great weekends! Much love x