The look on Alex's face was one that would have made Dean laugh in any other circumstance. She'd been utterly silent since Dean had decided to call on Castiel, neither agreeing or disagreeing with the idea. Instead, she'd gone completely quiet. She'd not really even said a word to Avery since Castiel had arrived, barely sparing her a glance. Yet, she listened, attention sharp when Castiel emerged from the panic room with a furrowed brow, rolling his sleeves back down. "Well?"

Castiel's gaze flicked to Dean. "His soul is in place."

Alex shifted, her attention locked onto the angel, and Dean gave Avery a meaningful look. Avery had already shifted her own weight, casually ensuring Alex didn't suddenly lunge for the angel. He knew for a fact that Castiel lingered at the top of her kill list, right beside Crowley now that Barachiel was dead. The only reason she'd not tried anything yet, he was sure, was because she was just as keen to use his angelic abilities to investigate Sam's wellbeing.

"Is he ever going to wake up then?" she barked, and her eyes narrowed into irritable slits when Castiel cast her a wary look, clearly unhappy with her. Castiel twisted his wrist in a casual gesture, and Alex growled.

"I'm not a human doctor," was his simple answer and she snorted, unsurprised. Irritation sparked in his expression as he added with some sharpness, "Probably not."

"Don't sugar coat it," muttered Dean with no small amount of sarcasm, scrubbing a hand down his face and looking back to the panic room. Sam looked so small despite his massive frame, hooked up to an IV that helped to keep him from dying of dehydration. He already looked a little thinner than he should have. Dean hoped he woke up soon, if only to eat something. When he turned his attention back on Castiel, Castiel was giving him such a disapproving look that Dean scowled and snapped, "What should we have done, Cas? Let him walk around killing us like it's nothing?"

Bluntly, Castiel responded with a hard stare, "When I touched his soul, it felt as if it had been skinned alive, Dean. If you wanted to kill your brother, you should have done it outright." Dean flinched, grinding his teeth. That was the very last thing he would have liked to hear. Before he could say anything back, however, Castiel vanished before their very eyes.

Dean swore under his breath, and Alex's tensed body eased a little as soon as the angel was gone. "We'll figure it out, Dean," she said quietly before slipping up the stairs without another word. Avery watched her go, troubled, and then looked to Dean for instruction on what she should do.

The problem was…Dean didn't know what to do now.

So, he followed the skinwalker upstairs. Avery followed suit. By the time they got up there, Alex was gone. When he found Bobby in his study, Bobby already had a glass of whiskey in hand for him. Dean took it without hesitation, lifting the glass to his mouth as he sank into the chair across from him. Avery hovered in the doorway, a disapproving frown creasing her face.

Bobby's lips twitched at the look. "Like my daddy always said," he told her, lifting his own glass of alcohol, "just 'cause it'll kill your liver doesn't mean it ain't medicine." Avery sighed heavily, rolling her eyes, but cast a look over her shoulder. "Alex isn't here. Slipped out the door. Saw her take off. She'll be back when she's ready. You know how she is."

Dean did, and it pissed him off on occasion. At least she'd not openly tried to pick a fight with Castiel this time. He recalled what she'd said about her soul. "We don't even get a chance at going to Heaven. We're sent to a separate place, where we don't get to be happy. My soul, at least in the eyes of God or whoever created this stupid world, is worth far less than yours." All of this business with souls and Purgatory, with her kill list and the two on it… He was missing the knot that laced it all together, and it drove him up the wall. But her words told him it was a sensitive topic. It had always been a sensitive topic for her.

The heaviest of all the reminders that she was unlike them.

Avery cleared her throat and said softly, "Sam's still sleeping, Bobby."

Bobby looked both disappointed and unsurprised. "He'll wake up," he said confidently, voice gruff, and Dean gave half-hearted grunt, unsure if he agreed or not. "Dean, he's been through a lot more than most and has always bounced back."

Quietly, Dean muttered more to himself than anyone else, "He's never been through this." Silence fell. Bobby sipped at his drink. Dean set his down. Avery vanished into the kitchen to do something. After a few moments, Dean took notice of a few newspapers spread out in front of Bobby - all displaying similar news. "Job?" he questioned almost hopefully. Something to distract him would be amazing right now.

"Maybe." Bobby passed him one of the papers, and Dean shook it flat, studying the headline that read WOMAN'S BODY FOUND IN ABANDONED HOSPITAL. Dean skimmed through the details, frowning to himself. "Could be just a normal murder."

Bobby snorted softly, almost amused that they discussed anything outside of what might be considered "normal" for something as complicated as a murder. "Thought so until you look back over the years." He passed him a printout of another newspaper from ten years prior. Similarly, the headline read MISSING WOMAN'S BODY RECOVERED IN OLD BECKERMAN HOSPITAL.

Dean thought over what might have done it if it were something unnatural, and he guessed, "Ghost."

"That's what I thought," agreed Bobby, taking the papers back. "Goes back even further. Same situation every time. Woman goes missing on the ground and body turns up in the same room in the hospital."

All in Idaho. He'd see what Alex thought.

A yelp made them both jump, and Dean nearly slammed his glass down, rocking to his feet. Bobby stared hard at where Avery had been, looking worried - until they heard muffled laughter and Avery's voice warmly saying something. Dean eyed the doorway until Avery materialized in it, unharmed and smiling widely. Before she could say a single word, a familiar tall figure appeared in the entryway behind her.

Sam. Dean could scarcely believe it, let alone when Sam croaked his name and walked over to give him a tight hug. Dean found himself hugging Sam back just as tightly, beyond relieved to have his brother back. Not just physically, but his actual brother, the one he'd practically raised in their father's absence. One who was warm and didn't automatically go to murder.

Sam moved on to Bobby next, hugging him just as tightly as he rasped, "I saw you - I felt Lucifer snap your neck."

Bobby chuckled as they parted, his lips twisted into a wry smirk. "Well," he said gruffly, "Cas kind of-"

Sam gawked. "Cas is alive?"

Not for much longer if Alex had anything to say about it. "Yeah, he's fine," said Dean, startled as he came to a suspicion. It was as if Sam didn't remember anything past those last minutes in the graveyard that had become his tomb. "Cas is…Cas is fine."

Avery, still hovering in the doorway, said softly, "Sam, are you hungry? I can make something for you if you'd like." She'd quite liked Sam, Dean remembered then, before he'd become soulless. She'd gotten along rather well with him.

"Yeah," Sam said gratefully. "That'd be great. I'm starving." Dean's lips twitched. Of course he would be. Soulless Sam hadn't eaten in months. Sam's gaze drifted over the room with a light furrow in his brow. "Where's Alex? Is she okay?"

Avery sighed heavily as she turned to return to the kitchen. "Alex went for a little jaunt around the area. She'll be back, I'm sure. Cranky as ever." Dean knew she was still upset with Alex for trying to make her steer clear of the hunts. He still wasn't sure why she insisted on it himself, though Bobby had worn a knowing look when Dean had tried asking him about it. She'd talked to Bobby and it bothered Dean to know she'd not done so with him, though he hated to admit it.

Sam merely looked around the study again, nearly in awe, and when he saw Dean watching, he gave a hint of a smile. Dean couldn't help the relief that nearly swept him off his feet.

Sam was back.


Alex should have brought someone along with her. That much, she was confident of as she meandered through the old, run down cars to the back of the junkyard that Bobby kept on his property. Her nose told her what waited for her and she considered turning back to grab Dean at the very least. One, he knew most of what was going on, and two…there weren't many who could stand a chance at wrestling her to the ground if she lost her temper with the angel waiting for her.

His face was grim when she rounded an old rusted truck and found him standing there. Alex lifted her chin, grinding her teeth. "What do you want, Castiel?" she demanded, folding her arms. She'd recognized the gesture with ease. It was one of several codes they'd developed when they'd first started their hard work - a small twist of the wrist here, a certain kind of look there. All meant to instill small communications when Crowley wasn't looking.

Castiel looked tired, thought Alex. He was exhausted, blue eyes dark with emotion and self-loathing. She wondered what he'd done lately to produce such thinking and come to her of all people, when she'd warned him of her intentions. She fully planned to go through with eliminating him when the time was right.

She did wonder when that time would be though, for even now the idea was one she struggled with. If worse came to worse, could she actually kill him? Kill Castiel, the angel who'd been their friend and ally for so long? Alex wasn't sure.

He spoke bluntly, as he always did. "Crowley wants you."

"Oh?" Her eyebrows rose, and a bark of laughter escaped her at his wording. "Who would have thought?"

"This is serious, Alex," Castiel warned, and her smile vanished. "He has many demons hunting you. The incident with the Alpha…what happened recently, with Meg…he believes killing the Alpha did something to you, that you're just as good as a key to Purgatory."

Her mouth dried and a cold sweat broke out over her skin as she recalled the last time he thought she knew more than she really did. She shuddered. "He said the same thing last time, you know, and still came up empty-handed." Instinctively, Alex traced a finger along her beloved blade and said roughly, "And why do you care to tell me? You thought the same last time."

Castiel shifted uncomfortably, wincing delicately. "I did not. I was unaware of what he was doing. You know that."

"Do I?" Alex glared at him, expression furious. "Because you sure as hell didn't care then, and you certainly don't seem to care now. Seeing as you're probably still working with him." Castiel wouldn't look at her, only confirming her thoughts, and Alex lifted her chin, even more angry with him. "The only reason," she said with a trembling voice, "I haven't told Dean, Cas, is because I'm not a bloody oath-breaker like you are." Alex turned on her heel to leave, only to be halted by a tight grip on her arm, jerking her to a stop.

"Alex," Castiel said, and she jolted in surprise at the thunderous way he spoke. His blue eyes were sharp as a knife he could have held to her throat. "You do not have to like me. But you need to listen to what I've told you. Be careful."

Alex stared back at him, narrowing her eyes for a moment. "Cas," she said finally, her voice soft and wary, "do you even know what it did to me? Killing the Alpha? It must have done something if Crowley's so interested. Meg said something about it, too. If there's a bunch of demons vying for my attention…and this doesn't even include the 'Soldier' business you're all usually going on about. You're working with Crowley. Surely you know something."

Castiel considered that for a heartbeat, dropping her arm. He searched her face. Finally, he admitted, "I can't say for certain, but Crowley has a theory that the 'Soldier business' may play into it. The Soldier was - is - one of Heaven's weapons. You must know this by now. They tip the scales in the direction of the side they choose. So if you, the Soldier, kill the Alpha of a species…"

"I side against them." Alex furrowed her brow. "But that doesn't mean anything about what it did to me, Castiel."

"Crowley theorizes," Castiel said grimly, "that you may have somehow acquired the Alpha's position as Alpha. Unfortunately, we don't know quite as much as we'd like about Alphas and therefore, I cannot convince Crowley to look away from this. I have tried. And if Raphael hears of this… Regardless of what you might think of me, I don't wish to see you dead."

And then, before she could respond, Castiel vanished. She was left with the sound of rustling feathers. Alex studied where he'd been, her breaths heavy and rough. She was frustrated and wanted more than ever to tell Dean everything, but… at the same time…

She wouldn't, because just as she'd told him, she wasn't an oath-breaker.

She'd still tell him something though.

Alex gave herself a few minutes to calm down and reorganize the information she'd gathered before tromping back to Bobby's house, exhausted. She rolled the idea over in her head. As far as she knew, she'd not really heard of another kind of creature killing their Alpha, let alone the Soldier. She remembered the heavily silver chains she'd somehow broken through when Crowley's demons had attempted to torture her blade out of her. She'd be lying if she said she didn't think her senses were sharper. If she didn't admit that she was a little snappier when someone pushed at a button.

A chill went down her spine. She'd wanted so badly to get out of going to Purgatory, yet here she was, almost pushing herself closer. What had she done?

She fought down panic that threatened to choke her as she yanked the door open and stepped into Bobby's kitchen - only to stop dead at the sight before her. "Sam," she breathed, wide-eyed, when she saw the moose of a man sitting at the table with Dean, chowing down on a sandwich.

He abandoned his sandwich and took her off guard by rocking to his feet and greeting her with a tight hug. "Hey, Alex," he said roughly, and she found herself hugging him back, choking on a laugh of relief. They'd stood downstairs not too long ago, wondering if he'd ever wake up, yet here he was.

When he pulled away, Alex grinned impishly at him, and then glared at Dean. "Why didn't anyone come get me?"

Dean held his hands up in surrender. "You're the one who ran off." He reached for the beer he'd been sipping at. "Where were you anyways?"

Alex didn't bother to lie, saying bluntly, "Cas wanted a word." Her lips twisted wryly at the silence that met her ears following that announcement. Bobby peered through squinted eyes at her. Avery stared, too, wide-eyed, and Dean looked almost concerned. Alex rolled her eyes, stalking over to the fridge to grab a beer for herself. "I didn't kill him, stop looking so worried. There's a time and place for everything after all. And unfortunately for me, it wasn't the time nor the place. I want Crowley first."

Sam's brow furrowed. He returned to his sandwich as Alex popped the lid off a bottle of beer and took a deep drink of it. Only after he'd sat there and stared at the sandwich thoughtfully for a moment did Alex prompt, "Hey, Sam, what's the last thing you remember?" She didn't miss the way Dean rocked forward just slightly, the way Bobby and Avery glanced at one another. They'd noticed something she hadn't in the time it had taken her to join them. Alex fought the urge to roll her eyes. They could have just asked.

"The field," Sam said, meeting her gaze warily. She could see something, like a flicker of uncertainty, on his face. "I fell. And then…I woke up in the panic room." He bit his lip, unsure. Alex wondered if he was concerned about saying something that wasn't right, or that might upset those around him. Her heart skipped a beat and she smiled warmly at him. Sam really was back.

Bobby, however, focused on something else. "Wait, you're tellin' me you don't remember-"

"Let's be glad he doesn't remember," Dean cut in quickly, silencing Bobby before he could finish and throwing them all a warning glare. He didn't want Sam remembering what had happened in that year. Alex didn't necessarily agree with that. But…at the same time…

Dean remembered Hell. It was a fact they all forgot here and there, but he remembered his time in Hell, and he still had nightmares on occasion. Alex couldn't blame him for not wanting Sam to remember it.

"Well, how long was I gone?" Sam asked, this time looking at Avery.

Avery hummed, in the midst of shoving dishes in the sink. They clinked and clattered as she did so, her gaze darting briefly to Sam. "About…" She thought it over, pausing to turn the sink on. "About a year and a half, yes?" she asked, checking with Bobby, who nodded. "A year and a half."

Sam paled, shoving anything that was left of his sandwich away as if he was no longer hungry. "What?! I don't remember anything though. How'd I even get back? Was it Cas, like last time?" When Dean grimaced, wincing, Sam glared at him. "What did you do, Dean?"

Alex's lips twitched and she cleared her throat to drag Sam's attention from Dean. "Death and Dean made a little deal. Dean came away with the upper hand," she was quick to add when Sam nearly shot to his feet with a horrified look. "Don't worry so much, Sam, he's not going to Hell for it this time. Like I said. Upper hand."

Sam took a deep breath and then let it out in a loud, sharp sigh. Rather than asking for more information, he rubbed his temples and said faintly, "I think I need another beer."


Alex thoughtfully flipped through the pages of the newspapers strewn across Bobby's desk, her chin resting in a hand. The headlines of each one were all similar, and some were even printouts of older papers, back from the 1900s. WOMAN'S BODY FOUND IN ABANDONED HOSPITAL. MISSING WOMAN'S BODY RECOVERED IN OLD BECKERMAN HOSPITAL. BECKERMAN HOSPITAL HOME TO WOMAN WHO WENT MISSING THREE WEEKS AGO.

There were dozens like it, she noted, cocking her head to the side. They went back decades. One woman a year, almost. A job for sure. She carefully folded them up and piled them together, debating if she should take them with her or not. They were Bobby's after all.

"Hey."

She nearly jumped. Alex managed to avoid it, however, as she looked up and found Dean standing in the doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets. She straightened in the old chair she sat in, concerned. "How's Sam?"

"Good." Dean exhaled softly, rubbing a hand down his face. "Really good - better than I could have hoped. He's taking a nap. Apparently, waking up after a year and a half is exhausting."

Alex laughed softly despite her best efforts, leaning back in her chair. "Bobby's having a hard time," she murmured, recalling the small conversation she'd had with him. He'd mentioned how hard it was to look at Sam after everything he'd done, and she felt bad for him. He'd practically raised Sam. He was torn about it. And they all had come to the silent, mutual agreement that they couldn't say anything about any of it without risking that wall in Sam's head.

"Yeah." Dean sighed again. "I know, I just talked with him. He said we're gonna have to tell him eventually. Or someone else might."

"He's not wrong."

"No. Doesn't mean I have to like it though." Dean seemed to shake it all off, cleared his throat. He made his way over to the desk and indicated the newspapers she'd been looking at. "What do you think? Ghost?"

"Something like that." Alex tapped a finger thoughtfully on the desk. "I'm going to check it out, that's for sure."

"Not on your own, you aren't." Dean's gaze burned into her now and Alex grimaced. He was deciding whether or not to inquire about her conversation with Castiel. She could see it on his face. So, she didn't bother to give him the chance to ask.

"Cas said," she said softly, leaning down to fold her arms on the desk and rest her chin on them, "that Crowley's basically moved me to the number one creature he's hunting for. Apparently, there's a lot of top blokes who think I've basically become the new skinwalker Alpha. Raphael included." She curled her fingers into fists, admitting the thoughts she'd had earlier. "I've wanted nothing more than to be human for so long. Instead, I went backwards and somehow became more skinwalker than the rest of them."

Dean shifted his weight, mulling over what she'd said for a few moments. "Back at the warehouse…you shouldn't have been able to get out of those chains, Alex. It's not a far stretch."

A strangled, choked sound escaped her. "Believe me, I know." She took a shaken breath, shoving to her feet. She pretended she wasn't biting back tears as she gave a wild, forced smile. "Anyways, ghost hunt. Let's go. I need to do something useful. I can't sit around this lovely place anymore. Are we taking Sam?"

Dean opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by the very man they were talking about. "Taking me where?" Dean jumped, spinning around as Sam ducked into the study to join them. He yawned as he did so, and Alex fought the urge to chuckle at the way his hair stuck up in odd angles. She felt a stab of fondness and sheer relief. Sam was back. Not soulless Sam, but real Sam, the one she'd missed every day she'd been around soulless Sam.

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh, there's this thing in Idaho-"

"Great," said Sam. "I'm in."

Alex cleared her throat as Dean reeled, unsure of what he was hearing. "Sam," she said not unkindly. "Are you sure you want to? You just woke up." It wasn't a lie. He was merely missing part of the truth. "It wouldn't hurt to rest a few more days, you know."

Sam snorted loudly, rolling his eyes. He jabbed a thumb in Dean's direction. "Right. Because that's what Dean did when he got back from Hell."

Alex snickered at the look on Dean's face. He couldn't argue with that. Alex didn't see a problem with it so long as Sam thought he was okay. It would be good for them, she thought, and a good test to see how well Sam would hold up on a hunt before bigger problems came looking again.

Alex looked at Dean, who shrugged. He knew he'd not be able to talk Sam out of it. Pleased, Sam rocked forward on the balls of his feet. "So…what's in Idaho?"


As Sam cheerfully pumped the Impala full of gas and Alex raided the gas station for road trip snacks, Dean smoothed his thumb over his ringing phone, grateful for a moment of peace and quiet. Alex was clearly eager to get attention off of what she'd talked with Castiel about and had spent much of their drive thus far simply vocalizing research about their intended location with Sam, who was more than happy to help her.

He liked it, hearing them converse like that as he drove. It was like he'd been thrown back to simpler times - before he'd gone to Hell, even. Except now, he found he didn't mind Alex nearly as much as he had back then.

Taking a deep breath, Dean answered the phone after locking the doors. "Hey, Lisa."

She sounded angry. She had the right to be. "Don't you 'hey, Lisa' me, Dean Winchester. What the hell?"

Dean winced. He knew he should have called sooner. They'd talked since the Incident, as he was calling it. She wasn't angry with him for that, he knew. She was angry at his spotty ability to call her regularly after he'd promised to try and be better about it. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. There was some…stuff with Sam. It's fine now," he added hastily. "But I just…my brother needed me."

Lisa was quiet for a fraction longer than he was happy with and Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't mean to hurt her as much as he knew he was. Lisa deserved a hell of a lot better - more than he certainly seemed capable of giving her. She was an amazing woman, with an amazing son, and it killed him to know that he was making her life a living hell half the time.

Finally, Lisa said quietly, "You could have called, Dean."

"I know." He glanced up when Sam knocked on the window by his head, making a small "what the hell" gesture. Alex stood beside him with arched brows, two or three grocery bags in her hands. He ignored them. "I've gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow." Lisa snorted, not believing him, and he winced, hating that. "Hey," he said quietly, "after this hunt, I'll come visit. We can have a family night. Pizza and a movie or something."

Lisa sighed again. "Okay. Yeah. That sounds good. Just…call, okay?"

"I will," he murmured. "Bye."

Lisa didn't bother to offer a farewell, simply hanging up. Dean fought back a well of emotion with varying degrees of success, shoving it all far back into the box with everything else. He unlocked the car door, saying defensively as Alex hauled herself and her bags into the backseat, "I had a phone call I had to make."

"Lisa called?" Alex gave him a wicked grin. "Good. I messaged her, telling her to give you a call. Figured we had the time with the drive and all."

"Since when are you and Lisa on texting terms?" demanded Dean as Sam followed suit, sliding into the driver's seat. "You barely even know each other."

Alex shrugged. "She's called me here and there for updates on you when she doesn't think you're being truthful. I happen to be available most of those times to talk, and if I'm not, I call her back when I am. You know. How you should be."

"Lisa?" echoed Sam, and Dean grimaced. He'd forgotten that Sam didn't remember everything, that Sam might not recall even seeing Lisa here or there in the last year.

"Yeah," Dean answered gruffly. "I stayed with her. Just like you wanted me to." He took a deep breath and then made an impatient gesture. "Can we get going now that I know Alex is invading every inch of my personal life?"

Alex snickered right along with Sam as the car slid from the gas station parking lot. Dean sighed heavily and prayed for patience as he twisted to glare at Alex. "What'd you get in there anyways?"

Alex hummed and began retrieving the snacks she'd chosen, passing Dean and Sam one or two when she had found one they'd like. As Dean tore into a small sandwich Alex had purchased, he asked with a full mouth, "So…wanna explain why you got us out of there before Avery could catch us?"

When he twisted to glance at her, her face had twisted into a grimace, as if Alex had hoped they'd miss that. Alex cleared her throat, setting aside her snack collection, and sighed softly. Knowing that Sam was listening, she backed their conversation up just a little. "I don't want to go to Purgatory when I die," she told them, cautiously aware that Sam would need to be made aware of what was happening regarding the search for Purgatory. She locked her gaze on her fingers. They'd tangled together, twisting and rubbing anxiously. "I really don't. But that's where I get to go since I'm a skinwalker. Avery…she's not human either. She'll go there, too. I just…I'm trying to keep her as safe as possible, for as long as possible, and she doesn't want to be safe. I talked to Bobby about it. He thought if we took her with us on a hunt, it might be good for everyone, but…" She sighed and rested her head back against the seat. "Avery isn't like us. She's not a hunter. She's trying to be, but it takes years to get to the point we're at. She can't learn without hunting, I get that. But bloody hell, she doesn't get that she's destined for Purgatory."

Dean couldn't argue that. He'd come to realize since he'd rejoined the hunting lifestyle that Alex's biggest fear now seemed to be Purgatory. She was scared enough to team up with Crowley and Castiel, though Dean knew he was still missing something in that puzzle. There were so many pieces that had yet to connect regarding the year she'd spent with them. He was worried about what would happen the day those pieces did connect.

"You should tell her," commented Sam. "She'd want to know."

The smile Alex gave Sam was warm and affectionate. She was as happy as Dean was to have him back. "I will," she said firmly. "After this hunt, I think. I don't like leaving things so messy." She waved off the conversation they'd slipped into and, ditching her seatbelt in a move that made Dean admittedly nervous, she scooted up to perch on the edge of her seat, leaning over to show them a picture she'd pulled up on her phone. "So, from the looks of it, the bodies are all found in room six-fourteen. Six being the floor, fourteen being the room."

"Anything special about that room?" Dean asked.

She shrugged. "Not that I can find at the moment. I guess the hospital itself is about two hundred years old, and it's gone through a number of changes in its time. The easy information I found said it's been pretty much every kind of hospital you can think of. It was the first one in the town, a general hospital, in the eighteen-hundreds. In the early nineteen-twenties, it became a hotspot for a disease that swept through the area. Late nineteen-fifties, they turned it into an institution for the criminally insane. Finally, in the mid nineteen-sixties, it became your average mental institution before being converted into a much nicer psychiatric hospital in the early eighties. It shut down at the start of the year nineteen-ninety-six and has stood abandoned for the last twenty years or so."

As Alex spoke, she showed Dean and Sam, who took fleeting looks as he tried to drive, the images and information she came across, her head bent near theirs. "So," Dean said slowly, "what's so special about the sixth floor?"

Alex hummed thoughtfully, but shook her head. "I don't know. That was just the easy stuff I could find."

"Any violent deaths?" checked Sam.

"Not any notable ones that pop up right away, but it was a hospital for a bunch of things." Alex rocked back, settling into her own seat again. "A hospital for what seems like a plague of some kind, a general one, one for the criminally insane…there's a lot of potential for several. There's not really been any notable ghost sightings either. For all we know, it's not even a ghost."

Dean raked his brain for anything that might be helpful. He'd packed his father's journal into his bag in the trunk, so he couldn't check it. He was pretty sure there wasn't anything in there regardless. "Weird," he muttered and Alex hummed her agreement. He turned his head to look out the window, watching trees fly by, and hoped that the case wasn't anything weirder than what they'd already come across.


The motel wasn't the worst one they'd stayed in by far, but it certainly wasn't the best, thought Alex as she stood in the middle of the room, bag slung over her shoulder. She wrinkled her nose at the wrinkled blankets and the iffy smells that came from them. "I'm taking the floor," she decided, which immediately made the boys concerned about why she wasn't trying to steal a bed, seeing as she usually did try to take one.

"Why?" demanded Dean, already eyeing the beds himself now, and Sam looked a little uneasy even as he carefully placed his bag onto the bed he'd chosen. "Why don't you want a bed, Alex?"

Alex smiled wickedly and turned to dump her things in the corner. She snagged the laptop she'd shoved half-hazardly into her bag and made her way to the small, rickety table that had been shoved up against the ugly wallpapered wall. She was ready to get a move on with this hunt, determined to focus on something other than all the other worldly issues they had. As Dean and Sam muttered to each other, trying to figure out why, precisely, Alex had chosen the floor and stared at the beds suspiciously, she went to work.

After a short time of settling in, Sam joined her, falling into old routines that made some of the worry about him ease from her shoulders. Alex peered at him here and there as they worked, occasionally exchanging information they came across while Dean disappeared to go and make a food run, figuring they needed something better than a few snacks from a gas station.

It was as if a switch had been flipped when Death had put Sam's soul back. Rather than bluntly stating things that he thought important, Sam would bluster over it, wondering what Alex thought about it. When she questioned something, he'd think it over rather than immediately dismissing her opinions.

Alex had to swallow a lump in her throat, recalling the last few months they'd spent with a soulless Sam and the sheer difference that came with having a soul.

"Anything?" Dean questioned when he finally returned, laden down with food that Alex knew would be exceptionally greasy but likely tasty. Eagerly, she took the burger presented to her and tore into it the second it was in her hands, earning a look of disgust from Dean. She arched her brow. He was the one who tended to talk with his mouth full.

Besides, Alex was getting the craving for something a little more raw, and a burger was certainly better than a human heart. The craving has come and gone more often as of late. Not for the first time since her talk with Castiel did Alex question if that was another little thing related to the Alpha.

She didn't say anything about it, instead gesturing for Sam to answer.

"It depends," Sam said carefully, frowning at his laptop screen. He didn't seem to notice the look Dean shot at Alex, who grinned in response before taking another bite of her burger. "We've found a handful of things, but the history of the hospital…it's pretty much hearsay, actually. There's a few records I managed to find. A few deaths that were reported. The thing is, none of them were violent enough to produce a ghost, Dean. I don't know if that's what we're actually looking for."

"What else could it be?" Dean argued, mouth full of food. Alex threw him the same look of disgust he'd thrown her, and Dean merely grinned mockingly at her in response, showing off his mouthful even more. She scowled back at him.

Sam watched the interaction with raised eyebrows. Rolling his eyes after a moment and muttering under his breath about their immaturity, he spun the laptop around so that Dean could look at an image he'd brought up. It was an old picture, perhaps a hundred years old, and showed a massive brick building with several stores surrounded by trees, manicured grass, and even a pond one could sit by. The image was ruined, naturally, by the bars in the windows of the building. A sign bolted to the front read Beckerman Hospital. "Look," he said, "I think our best bet is a visit to the place. Take a look around, see if we can find anything. Alex put together a list, too, of some names we may be able to track down. If we can talk to some of the people that worked there, then we might be able to find someone who knows something."

Alex lifted the piece of paper she'd written names onto, cramming what was left of her burger into her mouth. "We should split up. One or two of us can check out the old building. The other can talk with people."

Dean and Sam exchanged a thoughtful look, considering what they wanted to do. "Ghost or not," Dean pointed out, setting his burger down, "something's going after women. Might be safer for you to talk to people and for Sammy and me to dig around the building. Besides. Would be a perfect opportunity for Crowley to make his move."

Alex couldn't argue that. She tipped her head in thoughtful consideration. "My nose is much better than yours though. I might catch something you won't."

"So…why don't you two take the building and I'll interview people," offered Sam, and Dean immediately straightened his spine and shut the idea down.

"No," said Dean firmly. "You just…no. You're still getting back on your feet."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Dean," he said irritably. "Seriously."

"Why don't Sam and I check out the old abandoned creepy hospital," suggested Alex slowly, clearing her throat to snag Dean's attention. "And you interview?" Dean opened his mouth to argue, clearly unhappy with the idea of leaving his brother's side after everything that had happened to him in the last year, and Alex silenced him with a narrow-eyed glare. Did he honestly think she'd not keep an eye on him? After what seemed like ages, Dean finally reluctantly agreed, scowling lightly at them. "Don't worry, don't worry," Alex said, "I'll keep an eye on Sammy."

"I'm not a kid," Sam seethed, throwing his food aside with a scowl at them both. "Seriously, guys."

"No, but like I said," retorted Dean, "you're still getting back on your feet."

"Am I? I feel pretty on my feet to me," he snapped back at him.

Before the argument could progress further, Alex climbed to her feet, swiping crumbs from her fingers. "Well, as fun as it is hearing you two bicker like an old married couple…Sam, if you're done eating, you can start proving you're 'back on your feet' and back me up at an old – supposedly haunted – hospital."

Sam took a deep breath to steady himself, dark eyes still irritable. Regardless, he nodded. Alex wiggled her fingers at Dean hopefully, and he sat there for a few moments. He seemed to be debating. Finally, he warned, "One scratch–"

"And I'm heading to Purgatory early," sighed Alex even as she smiled widely at him, delighted. She caught the car keys he tossed to her. "I know. I'll take good care of her, you know I will. C'mon, Sam." She happily sauntered towards the door and Sam paused just briefly to look at his brother with frustration before following her outside.

Dean watched them go, finding himself uncomfortable in the silence they left behind.


"So, Alex," said Sam as the pair dug around in the trunk of the Impala, looking for weapons they might need. "What's with all the talk about Purgatory?"

Alex dropped the iron bullet she'd been loading into one of her guns, glancing at him in surprise. He was watching her out of the corner of his eye, pretending to look over a shotgun loaded with rock salt. He'd already pocketed a flask of holy water just to be sure. Slowly, Alex turned her attention back on the weapon she was loading. As she did so, she spoke. "There's apparently a race of sorts. Everyone's looking for Purgatory. It's…" She cleared her throat. "It's where I'll go when I die. I mean, you've heard about it here and there I'm sure." It occurred to her that he would know nothing that the rest of them did about Purgatory. If he recalled nothing of the last year, then he knew nothing about Purgatory.

Sam lowered the shotgun again, startled. "Okay," he said slowly, frowning. "Are we trying to find Purgatory, too?"

Alex thought about it. She tucked her gun into the waist of her jeans and grabbed a second shotgun, checking to see what it was loaded with. "Sort of, I think." She looked at him with a tired smile. "I'd like to find it. If only to figure out how I can get out of going there. But for you…you don't need to worry about it. You're human, Sam, with a human soul." Her smile brightened. She could say that again. She was beyond happy to say it to him. "You go to Heaven or to Hell. And you've already been to one, so hopefully you can make a beeline for the second option next time."

Sam gave her an exasperated look and slammed the trunk shut. "If you end up in Purgatory, we'll figure out how to get you out." He paused, and then scowled suddenly. "Hold on, Dean didn't try and make a deal again, did he?"

"He tried, but they wouldn't make the deal and couldn't as far as I know." Alex smiled ruefully. "He tried hard to get you out for a while, as far as I know. It wasn't until the bargain with Death fell into our hands that we actually found something."

"Well, if Death could do what demons couldn't, then maybe Death could help us with your soul," suggested Sam, and Alex found that there were tears burning in the back of her eyes. "We'll help you, Alex. Just like we always do."

She touched his arm gently. "Thank you," she murmured, her heart aching. She'd missed this Sam. He'd made a lot of mistakes, but he cared about those mistakes. That was more than soulless Sam could say. Clearing her throat, she said, "Come on, let's go check out the hospital. I'll catch you up a bit more on that subject our way back to the motel."

Sam agreed, and together, they set off for the main entrance. The building was huge, with eight floors – Alex commented mildly that there were bigger hospitals, but something about Beckerman made it feel larger – and windows that even now remained barred. Sam noted that. "We're going to have to keep an eye on exits," he told her as he tested the front doors. They were locked, of course. So, they set off to check the sides and back of the hospital. "Can't bust through a window." Alex hummed her agreement.

Eventually, the pair found their way into the hospital through a side door that they were able to jimmy open. Sam let Alex take the lead. He trusted her nose enough to know she'd notice something coming before he did, and apparently it was even sharper than it used to be. The floors were old and ruined, with water damage, scrapes, and papers littering it. Furniture was stacked at random intervals, abandoned, and it looked like someone had tried to spray paint an entire section of the wall. Glass littered the floor near what looked like a front desk. "You said the sixth floor, right?" he checked as they found a stairwell that spiraled up to other floors.

Alex nodded curtly and began climbing, making sure to stay on alert and keep her shotgun ready. As they ascended, Alex grumbled, "I hate the bloody stairs. Why can't we find a place with a working elevator?"

"You're welcome to try," said Sam, leaning over to peer down the stairwell and see if anything had followed them. "But I think an elevator is the last place I'd go with a ghost running around."

Alex muttered under her breath about it, growling to herself until they reached the sixth floor. "Damn it," she huffed when she found the door locked. She checked the lock, and stepped aside to let Sam pick it.

Once they were through, they found themselves on the sixth floor. They peered down a long hall of abandoned rooms. "You know," muttered Alex as they crept forward, peering into abandoned rooms filled with wooden beds, rotten mattresses, and not much else. When she looked closer, she found the beds to be bolted down. "I haven't seen any typical signs so far, have you?"

"No." Sam paused, studying a room. It was much like the others, with a plate studded into the wall labeling it as room 614. "Here," he said. "This is the room the women were always found in."

Alex inhaled deeply as they crept inside, looking closely at everything. Very much like the rest of the rooms, it contained only a wooden bed, ruined mattress, and barred window. Cautiously, she peered into a bathroom contained within the room. It held an old, broken shower and toilet. Nothing more. "The women were found in the bathroom," she reported, not looking at Sam as she spoke. "But there's no sign of a struggle…"

Sam, investigating the mattress, straightened, shifting his shotgun. "I'll go check out the desk at the end of the hall. Maybe there's some old files with information."

"I'll check out some other rooms," Alex decided. "Just because the bodies were found here doesn't mean there's not something somewhere else. We might need to check the other floors, too. Might be something above or below the room we don't know about."

"I'll meet you back here in ten," said Sam simply, and Alex agreed.

Sam made his way down to the desk that waited at the end of the hall. It was relatively large, with old, splintered plexiglass lining it. He had to shove at the door that led into it, for it had rusted shut. Just as he'd hoped, there were papers in folders on the desk, in drawers, and even left abandoned on the printer. Sam wondered why no one had cleaned the place up when it had shut down.

He began sorting through papers, starting with the files on the desk. He heard Alex trapezing around down the hall, slowly investigating each room and seeing if there was anything to find. "Hey," he called after a few minutes of searching, "Alex!"

She popped her head out of a room near the end of the hall. "Yes?"

Sam studied the paper in his hand as he waited for her to join him. When she was in the desk area, too, he leaned in and showed her the paper in his hand. "Didn't you say Alice Bartok was a name you found when we were doing our research earlier?"

She nodded, peering at the signature on the pages. "Yes. I put her name on the list for Dean…she was one of very few staff who was willing to talk about her time here. She was a nurse, I believe." She ran her fingers thoughtfully along the dusty counter, and then swiped that dust away on her jeans. "I didn't find anything useful in the room. Have you heard from Dean?" He shook his head. "Well then. I have a few rooms left to search on this floor. Do you want to check another floor?"

"Yeah." Sam smiled brightly at her, pleased that Alex wasn't necessarily babying him like Dean seemed keen on doing. "Meet back here in ten."

Alex agreed, spinning on her heel. Sam followed her back down the hall, then split off to head downstairs as she ducked into another room. He paused at the door to look back thoughtfully, frowning to himself. It was rare that something hadn't happened in a haunted location by this point. Hopefully it was just a fluke and they'd get some kind of information.

Downstairs, Sam came up just as empty-handed as he was unfortunately expecting. He was still digging through a file cabinet when a huge crash came from overhead. He jumped, not expecting it, and immediately abandoned what he was doing, bolting for the stairs.

"Alex?" he called the moment he'd reached the sixth floor, uneasy. All of the doors that had once been cracked open were now shut, and he grimaced when he realized he could see his breath. Definitely a ghost, he noted. He tightened his fingers around his shotgun and readied it, warily keeping a sharp eye out over his shoulder for anything that came his way. "Alex!"

A sharp bang dragged him to the room they'd initially been checking on. "Alex!" he tried again, and this time, he got a response.

"In here!" she yelled back. "The bloody door won't budge."

Sam began making a mental checklist of things that might have changed in the short time he'd been downstairs. He tugged at the door himself, and then yanked at it as hard as he could. It budged just barely. A loud barrage of cursing and snarling on the other side, followed by the blast of a shotgun.

Sam didn't need to ask Alex if she'd seen the ghost. He yanked harder at the door and only after a second blast went off did the door finally crack open. Alex grunted as she shoved at the door, too, and finally, she managed to hurtle through the crack just before the door slammed shut. She panted heavily, eyes round with alarm, as she paused to just briefly lean against the wall. Her shotgun was gone – likely lost in the room that was sealed shut now. She was wheezing, her voice hoarse when she choked out, "Little girl. It's a little girl." Alex rubbed at her throat, and Sam realized there was a thick red line that had appeared at her throat. When he looked closer, there was a little blood.

"You said," a soft voice said angrily, catching them off guard and making them whirl around to face the door as it flung open, "you'd come back for me! You said you'd come back!" A girl stood there in a simple white gown, her eyes blazing with cold, dead rage and grief. Short brown hair stuck up at odd angles, as if it had been unevenly shorn. Sam did one, quick once-over, noting that her throat held a gaping wound, and then shoved Alex towards the stairwell they'd been using.

"Go!" he barked, and Alex bolted, Sam only a step behind.

It took them half as much time to get out as it had to get in, and when they reached the Impala, they were both gasping for breath. Alex was cursing under her breath as they looked back at the building.

A small, miserable yet furious face looked back at them.


It took Dean a frustratingly long time to find someone on Alex's list who was willing to talk with him over the phone about Beckerman Hospital. He was ready to throw his phone and go join his brother and Alex at Beckerman Hospital rather than keep going as he was when he finally found some semblance of success after finding a number beside the name of Alice Burtok.

"You want to talk to my mother about Beckerman?" questioned the woman on the other line. She sounded skeptical. "Why on earth would you want to do a report about that? I mean, there's so many already, and it shut down so long ago…"

Dean fought back a sigh of exasperation and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ma'am, I'm just the reporter. I go where I'm told."

"Fair enough, I suppose." The woman accepted his answer without further question. "One moment, let me go see if Mom's interested." She put him on hold, and Dean let his hand slap onto the table, checking the clock. He hoped Sam was doing okay. He trusted Alex, knew she wouldn't let something happen to him and would honestly report on what he did and how he was the entire time they were away. He just wanted it to be himself, in person.

After a while, the woman picked the phone up again. "Hello?" she said, checking to make sure he was still there. Dean uttered a greeting in response, waiting, and the woman said, "Mom would love to talk to you, but she says she won't tell you on the phone." The woman sounded a little strange, as if this confused her. "Would you be willing to make a house call?"

"Sure," agreed Dean immediately, rising to his feet. "Give me and my partner a few hours and your address." He didn't have his car, but he was sure he'd find some way of getting there, even if it meant stealing a car for a short bit.

The woman paused, and then lowered her voice to say, "Look, I know what they say about the Beckerman Hospital, but it really meant a lot to my mother. She always got so upset with the negativity surrounding the place. If you could make a positive article about it, or remind people of the good rather than the bad it did–"

Dean latched onto that. "What kind of things do people say about it?"

The woman gave an awkward laugh. "Oh, you know. What they say about all old hospitals. It's haunted, and the ghosts are out to get whoever walks through the doors. But it's not. The woman they found there? They ruled her death a suicide – not a homicide. It's a common place people go for that reason when they're struggling. There's been a ton of suicides there over the years. It really upsets my mother when she hears people talking about it like it's some kind of joke. Please, just…be kind about it when you talk with her and publish her words."

Dean furrowed his brow and thought over what the woman had said as he hung up a few short moments later. All of the women that had died were suicides? None of their research had brought that up as far as he knew, though Dean did vaguely remember Alex commenting on something like that in the car on their way to Idaho. He dialed Sam's number as he went to track down a map and figure out where he needed to go. If he could walk there, it'd be easier.

"Hey," said Dean when Sam picked up, cradling the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he studied the map he'd found. "I went through Alex's list. The only one who wants to talk is this old lady, so I'm going to make my way–"

"Yeah," Sam said, sounding a little breathless, "that's great. Um, give us a little bit. We're on our way back."

Dean stilled, his mind immediately jumping to several conclusions. "What happened?" he demanded. "Is Alex there? Put her on the phone."

He could see Sam rolling his eyes as he snapped back, "We ran into the ghost, that's it, Dean. Relax. We're heading back now. What'd you find out?"

"Grandma wants to talk and she's sensitive about Beckerman Hospital," was all Dean said. "You?"

"Like I said. Ghost."

"Little girl," rasped Alex's voice distantly. "Angry little girl."

"We're on our way back." Dean heard the slams of car doors and scowled at the sound. They didn't need to slam the doors of his car so damn hard. He said nothing about it though as Sam suddenly said, voice muffled as if he were holding the phone away from his ear, "You need that looked at?" He hung up after that, and Dean found himself immediately concerned. Whatever had happened wasn't as little a deal as Sam was trying to make it sound. Grumbling, Dean returned his attention to the computer and tossed his phone aside, hoping that he could successfully distract himself until the pair got back.

It seemed to take forever for them to get back, though Dean was sure that was just because he was being impatient. When the door cracked open at last and the pair entered, he did a quick once over of each of them. Sam was entirely untouched, but Alex looked frazzled. A red line appeared to have been drawn across her throat, complete with dried blood. When she caught him frowning at her, Alex gave him a wicked grin and said almost mockingly in a raspy voice, "What? See something you like, Winchester?"

Determining that she was fine and would likely heal sooner rather than later given what she was, Dean didn't bother to suggest she find a first aid kit. "So it's a little girl?" he demanded.

Alex lost her grin, somber, and Sam gave a curt nod. "Maybe eight years old. Slit throat. She was saying something about someone coming back for her."

"She didn't try anything until I was alone on the floor," added Alex, running her hand through her hair. She looked tired. Dean wondered how much sleep she'd actually been getting lately, recalling that he often times saw her awake whenever he himself woke up. "And she waited until I went back into that room. I was walking back towards the desk we were going to meet at," she added with a glance at Sam, "and I heard crying coming from the bathroom. The second I stepped inside, the door slammed shut and it was typical shite from there." She waved it off, rolling her eyes. "She caught me off guard. That's all."

Sam's lips twitched. "We're not judging you."

"Dean is," she huffed, and Dean threw his hands up. "Look at his face. He's laughing at me."

Dean glared at her then, mostly because she fully well knew he wasn't doing anything like that. "Well, I have to go interview this lady, so if you're just going to stand there and be a pain in the ass–"

"I'm coming, just let me clean this up." She gestured to her neck and rushed for the bathroom.

"Who's the lady?" questioned Sam, emptying his shotgun and putting it away properly, figuring he wouldn't need it.

"Alice Burtok. Only one I got an answer from." Dean was entirely unsurprised when Alex emerged from the bathroom a few minutes after she'd gone in, forgoing her human body. She shook her thick red and white fur out.

Sam stilled, considering the name, and then glanced at Alex. "Isn't she the one that signed all those papers we found?"

Alex sharply nodded. She blinked expectantly at them, as if impatient to get a move on as she went to wait by the door, and it wasn't long before Dean opened the door, letting her slide out first. She lifted her nose to sniff at the air as they started for the car.

Dean paused to study her for a moment, debating. He wasn't sure if it was just him, and he certainly couldn't put his finger on it, but something about her was simply different. As if it were more natural for her to be a dog than a human. Dean didn't like it.

"I've wanted nothing more than to be human for so long. Instead, I went backwards and somehow became more skinwalker than the rest of them."

Maybe Alex hadn't been too far off from what she'd been saying.


Alex wondered if she should have forgone the canine appearance as she fought the urge to fidget with discomfort while laying sprawled on the floor. The collar she'd let Sam carefully put on her neck kept rubbing uncomfortably on the wound on her throat. But she could easily ignore it, her pricked ears noting sounds of what sounded like a child's voice.

Alice Burtok seemed entirely at ease with the two strange men in her house, and had even welcomed their dog in when she'd seen Alex curiously studying the house through the car's window from the porch. She'd anticipated waiting in the car, but after questioning if she was friendly enough for children, Alice had practically begged Sam and Dean to bring Alex inside, claiming their family dog had passed recently. "My granddaughter would love to play with her, if you don't mind," Alice had said with such a hopeful expression that Dean had sighed and told Sam to grab her.

"We'll just wait to start," Alice said in a friendly voice, "until my daughter Dahlia leaves. It's easier for me to talk about it when she's not here to interrupt."

"That's rude, Mom." A woman, who Alex presumed to be Dahlia, had appeared in a doorway, her hands on her hips. She was very clearly Alice's daughter. They shared similar faces. Dahlia's dark eyes landed on Alex and she blinked in surprise. "You let them bring their dog inside – oh! Roise, don't–" Dahlia scrambled to stop the small girl that suddenly bolted past her legs with a loud squeal, but couldn't stop her from making a beeline to Alex.

Alex grunted when the girl nearly collapsed on top of her, a stab of grief heavy in her chest. The girl, Rosie, laughed loudly as she hugged Alex fearlessly. She missed her nieces, she thought miserably, even as she winced at the tug of a small hand pulling on her ear.

Alice smirked, looking rather smug. "I told them Rosie would like to play with her while we talked."

Dahlia looked unsure about it until Sam gave her a half-smile, reassuring, "She's really good with kids." She continued to eye Alex regardless, watching until she really believed that her daughter would be safe playing with the strange dog in her home. "Oh, alright. I was just heading to the store…Mom, you're sure you'll be okay?" She eyed the two strangers warily. "Chris should be home in an hour."

A warning, should they try anything. It made Dean cough to hide a laugh.

Alice scoffed. "I'm not that old, Dahlia."

Rolling her eyes, Dahlia decided it should be fairly okay and gave them a final, warning look before leaving. Alice hummed, waiting until they'd all heard Dahlia close the door and lock it behind her. Only when she was truly gone did Alice sigh, lowering her mug from her lips. She pushed a long lock of silver hair from her eyes and said, "You're writing about old Beckerman then? That's what Dahlia told me."

"Yes, ma'am," said Sam politely. He leaned forward, a pen braced over a small notebook he'd brought to note things that might be helpful to them. "We heard you were an employee there?"

Alex kept half of her attention on the little girl that was chattering in her ear, playing with her fur happily and leaning against her shoulder, and half of it on the conversation that followed.

"Yes, I was a nurse there," said Alice with a hint of pride. "I worked there for twenty years, up until it closed. I retired after that. It had its problems, of course, but all hospitals do."

"What kind of problems?" prompted Dean.

"Well…" She faltered then, setting her coffee aside. "Let's be honest. You're not here to talk about me, or the hospital itself, are you? All anyone wants to hear about is the ghost stories we used to tell. That's what every other person who's come asking questions wants to talk about." She glanced warily at her granddaughter, unsure if she wanted to talk about such matters in front of her, but decided it would be alright. She was young enough, Alex noted, to not remember such talk or understand it.

The Winchesters exchanged a quick glance with one another that told Alice all she needed to know, and Dean admitted, "Guilty. History's important, too, with ghost stories though."

Alice considered what to say before giving in. "I worked, mostly, during the time when Beckerman was a psychiatric unit," said Alice with a heavy sigh. "In particular, I worked in the children's ward. Back then, it was a little different than what you tend to see nowadays in such places. Not nearly as kind. Lots of children with issues related to their parents, of course. Babies born with addictions to drugs and the problems that came with it. Abused children, who developed trauma. A few who made it simply because their brain hadn't developed correctly.

"Regardless, the building was old when we got there, you understand. The floor I worked on, the sixth floor…it underwent a lot of renovations over the years. At one point, it was a maternity ward. Another, a surgical floor. Lots of renovations." Alice stopped to take a sip of her coffee again. She smiled softly as Alex, deciding to play the role of dog to the full extent, rolled onto her back and stretched her legs out so Rosie could scratch her belly. Sam cleared his throat, clearly amused, and Dean snickered.

Alice continued, "I, personally, didn't experience many things. A flickering light here or there, maybe a door shutting on its own. But there were a lot of stories about the basement, where they kept the morgue. A lot of people mentioned hearing voices down there, even when no one else was around. It wasn't real, that one. There was another door that the janitors would use, so it was usually just them taking their break or something, you know?"

"What about a little girl?" prompted Sam, careful in how he worded it. When Alice stiffened, her eyes narrowing a fraction, Sam did his best to divert her attention from why they wanted to know by saying, "We just heard some rumors. Of a little girl."

Alice studied them for a good long moment before finally speaking again. "That one…that one wasn't just a story." Alice pressed her lips together, clearly unhappy. "The children that would stay in that room would often come out and complain about a little girl crying in the bathroom of their room. I never saw her, personally but one of my coworkers did. She was alone on the floor one night. The kids were all asleep, and no one was slated for that room. She was walking past it to do a check on the kids, and…" Alice faltered. "When I came back on the floor, I couldn't find her anywhere. It took a while to finally find her. When I did, she was dead on the bathroom floor in that room. She'd slit her own throat."

Dean exchanged a look with Sam. Focusing back onto Alice, Dean said, "What makes you think she saw the ghost?"

"She told me. She'd seen the little girl peeking from the room here and there. She said she felt like it was watching her at all times when she worked. It was beginning to mess with her head, she said, and she just couldn't cope anymore." Alice sighed, smiling warmly when her granddaughter suddenly giggled hysterically and buried her face in Alex's fur. "That hospital did a lot of good, but there were a number of patients we couldn't help. That little girl just…happened to be one of them."

"Did you know who the little girl was supposed to be?" Alex could see the gears in Dean's head working to puzzle out the mystery before them. "Which patient?"

Alice hesitated again. She wavered for a few moments before giving up. "Please, don't print this," she begged, and it caught them all off guard. "Please. For one, I'm sure there are laws I'm breaking by telling you, and for another…it means more to me than you know."

"We won't," said Sam, putting his notebook away. "This is between us, ma'am."

Only when Dean agreed did Alice smile faintly and admit, "I've never seen her, but I always suspected she was my sister." That certainly took them all aback. Despite the subject at hand, Alice gave a rough laugh. "My sister, Lizzy, died in that room, too. She was dropped off when we were young. She was a troubled child, and my mother was just as troubled. She just couldn't cope with Lizzy's behavior on top of her own problems. She never told me the truth, but we all knew. She dropped her off, signed her over to the custody of the hospital, and never went back."

Alex rocked upright, ignoring Rosie's protests. "You said you'd come back for me!" the ghost had cried. That would explain a lot about her. She looked sharply at Sam, who seemed to be thinking along the same line, because he asked, "How did she die?"

Alice swiped some tears from her eyes and said, "I'm not sure, but the hospital told us suicide. We never figured out who did it. None of us ever thought she could have done it to herself, but that's what the hospital told us. She was nine years old. How could a nine year old do that to themself? How would they know? No. She was murdered. I'm sure of it. And the worst part of it all was that they never let us see her body. Who knows what they did with it. It's just a shame that others think of her place of death as one for their own."


She was anything but pleased, Alex realized, to be back at Beckerman Hospital. She twirled her blade between her fingers. She hoped to at least get her shotgun back while they were there. Sam and Dean bent over the trunk, muttering between one another, and she couldn't help but smile warmly at the sight, knowing that from the way Dean kept looking at Sam, he was more relieved than she was to have him back.

"You know," Alex mused, cutting into their conversation, "she mentioned the morgue being in the basement. I bet her body's down there somewhere."

Dean slammed the trunk shut. "Could be. You didn't see any sign of something in the room?"

Alex shook her head and pushed off of the Impala. She checked the waist of her jeans, confirming that she'd put her iron-loaded handgun on her person, and put her knife away. She'd forgone a shotgun this time, figuring she was more likely to lose it apparently than to keep it. "Nothing. Not so much as a bloodstain on the wall, but the ceiling was a bit iffy. It was a hospital after Lizzy's death, so…they probably cleaned it."

Dean muttered his agreement and glanced over when Sam shouldered his shotgun and said, "You know, Alice said they never figured out who killed her, but all the victims were female. I bet it was a woman who did it."

Alex touched her throat thoughtfully. She grimaced. It was a likely truth. "She waited until I was alone, so I'll just stick with you two then." She glanced between them. "Shall we then?"

Sam led the way to where he and Alex had initially gone into the hospital. The door was still unlocked. They crept inside and upon reaching the stairwell, Alex descended the steps alongside them rather than going up to the floor the ghost was known to inhabit.

"Keep close," warned Dean when he exhaled and his breath clouded in the air.

"I don't think she's happy we got away." Alex smirked to herself even as a chill ran down her spine. She didn't like this. The hospital was a rather large place, and she was sure that if they weren't careful, then they'd run into a lot more trouble than they were currently having. Even the basement was big. They stepped into a hallway lined with various doors.

Dean clearly didn't find her comment funny. He threw her an irritable look and then began testing doors. Sam and Alex followed suit. Most of them were locked, which only served to make him grouchier. "C'mon, man!" he shouted when they reached the end of the hall and found no door open for them to simply walk through. "What the hell are we supposed to do? Sit here and pick locks while a little ghost girl tries to gank us?"

"Don't be so dramatic, Winchester." Alex rolled her eyes and pointed at a sign that was embedded in the wall beside one of the doors. Sam looked as amused as she felt when Dean cleared his throat, pretending he'd seen the sign that read in big block letters MORTUARY.

Dean stepped aside to let Sam pick the lock. Alex hummed a soft tune to herself as she waited, watching out for any danger. Dean did the same. When Sam finally succeeded at opening the door, they slipped inside. Alex's breath clouded before her, and she murmured a caution as they looked around at the massive room they'd stepped into.

"What is this?" muttered Dean. "A rat's nest?"

The basement room they'd entered was massive and littered with everything under the sun. Clothes, boxes, old broken furniture, even an old typewriter that was rusty and broken. Alex tapped at it thoughtfully and winced when it made a sound that was louder than she anticipated. "Where would they keep a body in here?" Alex put her hands on her hips, looking around. "This is less of a morgue and more of a…a storage closet."

A snort from Sam made her glance over and sigh at what he was pointing at. A wall at the back of the mess, lined with familiar small silver doors. The trio began puzzling their way through the chaos. When they at last reached the back, they had to spend a moment longer than they were comfortable with shoving things out of the way to make room to open the doors. Briefly, Sam left Dean and Alex to do the hard work and fished his lighter and salt out of his bag.

"Ready?" Dean rasped, panting for breath after shoving a shockingly heavy desk out of the way. Sam and Alex both nodded. Alex whirled her blade between her fingers, and Sam lifted the salt to indicate he was, too. When they were prepared for the potentially violent ghost, Dean began to open the silver doors and roll out the small rusted platforms inside.

There were six total, and the first four were empty. The fifth held a literal rat's nest, which made Dean curse and stomp away to regather himself as Alex snickered and stepped over to close it again. "Friggin' rats," hissed Dean as he yanked the sixth door open.

It was empty, too.

"Huh," muttered Sam, completely at a loss. "Where's the body?" He looked around at the cluttered basement in horror, as if questioning whether they'd need to start digging through the mess. "Alex–"

She inhaled sharply without needing to be asked, almost sniffing the air as if she wore her other skin. "Nothing," she reported, puzzled. "I smelled something earlier though…maybe the ghost was watching us or and confused my nose. She's definitely in the building though." She thought back over it and then straightened. "The bathroom she died in – the ceiling tiles were rotten, more than any other."

"You couldn't mention that sooner?" snapped Dean, and she shrugged. Alex couldn't say she was too keen on going back to that room.

"Okay." Sam sighed. "Let's go check that out then. And Alex–"

"Stick close, I know." Alex sauntered for the door they'd unlocked, leaving the boys to follow her. Sam grabbed his things quickly and scrambled to catch up with Alex and Dean, huffing at them for not waiting.

It took them a few minutes to make it back to the sixth floor and Alex grimaced at the way her breath began to cloud again. The ghost had definitely been watching them in the basement. She hoped that it would be similar, though she knew better. The second they made it to that room with the salt and the lighter, little Lizzy would come looking.

"This way," she told Dean, striding down the hallway swiftly. She wanted to get this over with.

They stopped in front of the room marked fourteen, and Alex warily pulled the door wide open. She faltered, letting Dean go first, and said, "Grab my gun, would you?" She'd spotted it in the corner of the room, where it had been thrown when the ghost had come after her the last time. Dean snagged it and tossed it to her after checking the safety. Alex narrowly caught it in one hand, relieved to have it back. It would have been a pain in her ass to get another one.

The temperature was plummeting. "Sam," barked Alex. "Bathroom." He was tall enough that it wouldn't be a problem for him to reach the tiles on the ceiling whereas she didn't stand a chance unless she found something to stand on–

"You said you'd come back for me."

"Son of a bitch," muttered Dean, whirling around. Lizzy had appeared behind him, her eyes locked on him. A flick of her wrist hurtled him against the wall, and Alex lurched forward, forgoing her gun. She lashed out at the ghost with her blade instead.

Sam bolted for the bathroom, muttering to himself, and Alex reluctantly trailed him, not able to fit in the bathroom with him but hovering at the doorway as Dean hastily retrieved his weapon. Her heart raced in her chest. This didn't so much as come close to the top ten scariest cases they'd covered, but it was enough to worry her. The ghost wasn't messing around when she got her hands on you. The mark on Alex's throat was enough of a tell for that.

Sam began poking at ceiling tiles and Alex hefted caught a flicker of sudden movement in the corner of her eye. Sam yelped a warning when the small ghost appeared, hands outstretched. She wasn't waiting for a woman to enter the room on her own anymore. Alex yanked out of the way, shouting as she retreated from the bathroom doorway, "Get the bloody body out of the ceiling, you moose!"

"I'm working on it," snapped Sam.

"Dean," Alex warned when Lizzy flickered out of view and reappeared beside him. Dean rounded on her, firing a loud blast that made Alex flinch. It was so damn loud in the enclosed, echoing room.

It became almost a game of tag for a few moments. Alex and Dean kept the ghost distracted while Sam cursed and complained about a lack of finding anything in the ceiling tiles. Eventually, he simply resorted to slamming a foot into the drywall, hoping he'd find something. Sam grew agitated the longer it took and was nearly ready to simply burn the whole building down when he put a rather large sized hole in one of the walls and found what he was looking for.

It was always depressing, Alex thought, catching a glimpse of what looked like a shocking amount of hair tucked into the wall as she whirled, her knife flashing as she briefly chased off the stubborn ghost. Always. This part of the job, especially regarding the children that were dragged into such things, would always be hard for her. Yet, she screeched when Lizzy appeared close enough to Dean to finally grab him, "Sam! Sam!"

Dean grunted, slapping a hand over his throat as a familiar red line began to creep over his skin. Sam scrambled, hurling salt at the wall and his lighter as quickly as he could after. The clump of hair promptly burst into flames and with a familiar, echoing scream, Lizzy vanished in a burst of flame. Silence followed, and Dean grimaced, blood staining his fingers where he'd gripped his throat.

"Dean?" rasped Sam warily, and Dean made a face.

"Couldn't get the damn thing sooner?" said Dean, voice hoarse. He dropped his hand and something tight in Alex's shoulders eased when she found the wound no worse than her own. A thin red line and some bruising, nothing more.

Sam only dropped his head with a sigh of relief.


Sam knew for a fact that things were being hidden from him, and he couldn't say he liked it much. It was starting to bother him a lot actually. Alex and Dean both seemed to know about whatever it was. They were muttering between themselves, heads bent closer than Sam expected. He couldn't figure out what it was that they were hiding though. He'd picked up on a few things here and there, but it wasn't enough, nor did all the details seem to connect in the same way.

For one, he got the feeling that Alex's fear of Purgatory had nothing to do with what they were hiding from him. There was something about that fear, however, that bordered on obsession, but it was clear they didn't mind telling him everything he needed to know about Purgatory. So that had nothing to do with it.

The way the pair occasionally looked at him, however…well, that told stories he knew nothing about, and Sam found himself deciding that while Alex and Dean might not say anything, there might be someone who would.

"Hey," he said into his phone as he carried his duffel outside to the Impala, dumping it into the trunk. It would be a moment before the other two came out. THey were triple checking to make sure they'd grabbed everything. "Avery. You have a minute to talk?"

"Sure." Avery seemed pleasant enough on the phone, albeit a bit confused. "How'd your hunt go? Everything okay?"

Sam tucked the phone between his cheek and his shoulder. "Everything's fine. It was a ghost, not too hard." For the most part. They'd taken the time to dig around a little after putting out the fire they'd set, and had found a few hidden files in another section of wall. Apparently, a nurse had killed the young girl and though they'd ended up punishing her anyways, the hospital had swept the incident under the rug and not reported it to proper channels. "Look, I had some questions that I was hoping you'd be up for answering."

"Sure." Avery perked up, seeming excited to be the person he'd turned to for his questions. His lips twitched as he shifted things around, fussing with things that didn't need it to buy time. He did feel a little bad. The last thing he wanted was for Avery to get into trouble with the others. It was clear that Dean wanted to keep whatever it was a secret, and Avery might be in on it, too, though he knew that she had a propensity towards the truth. "What did you want to ask?"

Sam took a deep breath, glancing over his shoulder to ensure he was alone. Refusing to turn back, he slammed the trunk shut and leaned on it, entirely serious. "I'm still a little…iffy on some things that happened while I was gone. Think you could help me?"

Avery paused, quiet for long enough to tell him that she knew. She, too, held the secrets that Alex and Dean were keeping away. Finally, however, she said, "Yeah. I can help. Just don't tell the others I helped you. And give me a minute, I need to go lock myself in my room so Bobby doesn't come eavesdropping."

"Yeah, sure. No problem." Sam smiled faintly at the other side of the parking lot. "Take your time."

Finally, thought Sam, determined. Finally he'd know what had really happened when he'd been in Hell–

"Scratch that," Avery said hastily, voice rushed a few heartbeats later. Excitement had crept into her voice. "We'll have to reschedule. Tell the other two to get back to Bobby's as soon as possible. He found something on Purgatory. He found this book when he took me out on a big hunt, and...well... We can talk when you get back."

Sam scowled lightly in frustration, but didn't get angry with her. Whatever it was that Bobby had found on Purgatory was clearly good news, and he'd certainly been in similar circumstances when something had to be pushed to the back burner in favor of something a little more important at the moment. "I'll let them know. Catch you later, Avery."

Avery chirped a farewell and hung up, and Sam took a deep breath before going to fetch his brother and Alex. Whatever it was, he hoped it really was more important than remembering what he couldn't.


An original I was excited about writing! First part wasn't entirely original, of course. That was taken from the 12th episode. But I based the ghost and setting off of my place of employment, actually. Nowhere near the same hospital as the one I work at, but we do have a room haunted by a little girl that cries in the bathroom. I've not seen anything, but I've had several kids (who don't know each other) come out and report that they couldn't sleep because of it, so. ;) The voices in the basement and the babies crying are also reports of ghosts we've had. Fun times.

Next up, on to Purgatory stuff!

Thanks to reviewers (Savage Kill, savethemadscientist, maskedwriterguy, emily2696, and bladelord5154!) as well as those who favorited and followed!