Everybody knows that the dice are loaded,

Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed.

Everybody knows the war is over.

Everybody knows the good guys lost.

Everybody knows the fight is fixed,

The poor stay poor, the rich get rich.

That's how it goes... everybody knows.

And everybody knows that it's now or never,

everybody knows that it's me or you.

And everybody knows that you live forever,

When you've done a line or two.

Leonard Cohen, Everybody Knows

"Ugh... son of a..."

When Dean awoke the next morning he had a pounding headache. More importantly, he was nowhere near South Dakota, even though he knew enough time had passed that they should have reached their destination.

"Well. It lives," Vera joked from the driver's seat. "You were out for so long I was afraid I gave you alcohol poisoning."

"Leave that option on the table," Dean groaned. He tried to raise a hand to cradle his head, only to find that he had been cuffed to the car's panic handle. "I take it we had a good time last night?" he groaned, gesturing to the restraint.

"The best," Vera told him cheerfully. "Look, sorry about the cuffs... I just needed to make sure you didn't bolt as soon as you woke up and realized we were seventy miles past your destination."

"You wanna tell me why that is?" Dean demanded grouchily.

"I know who you really are, "James Bon Jovi"," Vera announced, making air quotes around the fake name he had given her. "I need your help."

Dean proceeded carefully. It was just as likely that Vera thought he was an FBI agent as it was that she knew he was a hunter. Damn his many aliases.

"Look lady, I think you've got me mixed up with someone else," he protested. He had to give it a shot.

"Dean, come on," Vera cajoled him. "You're a fairly distinctive character. There's no mixing you up with anyone else."

"Ok. I'd feel flattered if that wasn't such a pain in my ass right about now," Dean muttered. "Fine, you got me. What is it you need my help with? I don't know if you noticed, but I was kind of in the middle of something when you decided to kidnap me."

"Hey, you came willingly," Vera reminded him. "All I did was offer you a ride."

"Yeah, to South Dakota," Dean reminded her. "You're a few miles off at this point."

"Just a detour. I'll make sure you end up at Singer's scrap and salvage," she assured him.

Dean frowned. Whoever this Vera was, she knew way more than she should. Had he slipped her some details while he had been black-out drunk the night before?"

"Detour to where?"

"To see an old friend."

Her cryptic act was getting old fast.

"The only old friend I'm interested in seeing is Bobby Singer, and you missed his exit sixty miles back," Dean snapped. "Now either you stop this car and drop me off at my destination or I'm gonna break out of these cuffs, carjack you and drive there myself."

"So grumpy," Vera tsked. "Trust me, you want to take this detour. You just don't know it yet."

She handed him a smart phone. The screen showed a browser that was open to a news article.

"Abortion rights activists cleared of wrongdoing in Aberdeen Clinic Massacre," Dean read. "You lost me... are we going picketing?"

"Keep reading."

Dean scanned the rest of the article but could find nothing of interest.

"I don't get it," he finally confessed.

"Look at the witness composite," Vera sighed.

"I don't-"

"There's a pop-up gallery. Click it. You have to... you have to- Oh god!"

She snatched the phone from him and navigated to a pop-up gallery. When she showed him the screen again, he understood immediately. A rough sketch of Alice Smith glared back at him from the screen. The composite was clearly drawn from multiple sources, but unmistakably Alice.

"Oh," Dean said dumbly as he took a moment to process what he was seeing.

"That's right," Vera said, taking her phone back. "Your wild card hunting partner is on the loose and I need your help taking her down."

"That can't be her," Dean shook his head, expression troubled as he gazed out the window.

"It's her. The picture is pretty clear."

"No, I mean... She's dead," Dean finally managed. "I don't know who you're taking me to look for, but it isn't Alice Smith."

"This won't be the first time Alice has cheated death," Vera said, pursing her lips.

"How do you know all this about Alice anyway?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"Me and her go way back," Vera said shortly.

"How far back?" Dean pressed.

"It's not really your business," Vera snapped. "Look, she's been back top side for two days flat and she's already gone on a killing spree. We need to handle her before she does any more damage. Are you on board or not?"

"Doesn't really seem like I have much of a choice," Dean sighed, gesturing to the handcuff locked around his right wrist.

"Look, I can't force you to help me," Vera pointed out. "Especially given the history between the two of you. But you of all people know how dangerous she is... can you really walk away from this hunt?"

Her words sent a chill down Dean's spine. Deep down he had always suspected that he would one day end up hunting Alice. He always imagined it would be when she went off the rails... had that finally happened?

Dean saw a flash of red, followed by Alice's bone-chilling screams. They haunted him like her ghost, as unshakable as they were distinct.

"Ok, say she is back," Dean conceded."Why would she tear up an abortion clinic? It doesn't make any sense."

"We'll have to ask her that when we catch up with her," Vera replied simply. "Medical supplies maybe? Or ingredients for a spell."

Dean imagined the kind of ingredients Alice could procure from such a place and shuddered.

"If it is Alice, she won't be happy to see me," Dean grumbled, shaking his head.

Vera cocked her head at him curiously.

"Really? Rumor has it you two were close... real close."

"Well, the closer you are to someone the more pissed they are when you screw them over," Dean replied with a frown. "I'd like to know where the hell you're hearing all these rumors from. No one knew about me and her."

Vera shifted uncomfortably under his questioning.

"I, uh... I've got my sources."

"Spill, or I'm not helping you," Dean threatened.

Vera chewed her lip, considering her options.

"Come on, this'll be a lot easier with my help," Dean pointed out.

"Your brother told me," Vera said reluctantly.

"Sam?! When?"

"Not long ago."

"Where is he?"

"Right now? Who knows. He stays on the move."

"How do you and Sam know each other?" Dean demanded.

"We... hunted together for a while."

She spoke slowly, choosing every word carefully. Her demeanor put Dean on edge. She sounded like someone who was lying, but he knew from experience that she had told him all she would. He had found out everything he wanted to know anyway. Vera's secrets were hers to keep.

"Uh-huh. Well, you know what else'll make this job easier?"

"What?"

"If you get me out of these things," Dean said, pointing at the cuffs.

"You're not wrong."

She reached into a pocket and handed him the key. He freed himself, rubbing the raw spot left behind by the cold metal bracelets.

"So, I assume Alice isn't going to make herself easy to find," Dean observed.

"She never does," Vera agreed.

"If we want any chance of tracking her down we're gonna need to know why she hit that clinic," he pointed out.

"Absolutely."

"You got any credentials?" Dean prodded.

Vera laughed at him and in response, opened her glove compartment. Dean nodded in appreciation as he surveyed her collection of fake badges.

"Not bad."

"Trust me. You help me nab Alice and I'll take care of everything else."

"Sounds like a deal."

Dean had one more nagging question that worried at him like a loose tooth. Once they nabbed Alice, then what?

He wasn't going to trouble Vera with the issue. He figured he would find out after he held up his end of this deal.

Sam was exhausted after hours in an uninterrupted exorcism session. The demon he grappled with was much stronger than those he had tangled with previously. This was by design. As the black-eyed bastard laughed at him, he became more and more desperate. Humiliation drove him as much as his desire to help the poor son of a bitch this demon was riding. He was right where Ruby wanted him.

"Sam, stop," she sighed. She tugged his arm to break his concentration and he almost fell over in her grasp.

"What's the matter Winchester?" the demon sneered. "Can't get it up today?"

"Keep laughing," Sam growled as blood poured from his nose.

"Sam, you can't keep this up," she told him quietly. "It's too much. We knew this was risky coming into it. It's time to throw in the towel and send this smug son of a bitch packing."

"No," Sam panted stubbornly, wiping his face on his shirt sleeve. "I can do this. I know I can do this."

"You're not strong enough," Ruby insisted. "You're going to hurt yourself if you don't stop."

"If I don't practice I'll never be strong enough," Sam argued.

"You can't practice if you're dead!" Ruby pointed out.

"I said I'm fine!" Sam growled, tearing his arm from her grasp.

"Sam!"

He reached out, grunting as he strained with the effort of trying to pull the demon from it's host. It shook and howled as it resisted his pull, fighting tooth and nail to remain topside.

"Sam, please!" Ruby begged, tugging his arm urgently.

Sam staggered, blood dripping from his nose and seeping from the corners of his eyes as he groaned with exertion.

"Sam, stop!" Ruby cried out. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground with a harsh gasp. "It's too much!"

She let his own weight carry him to the ground as he lost consciousness in her arms. With a heavy sigh, she laid him down and pulled her knife from it's holster on her thigh.

"What do you think you're going to do with that?" the demon in the chair asked her.

She stepped over the threshold of the devil's trap and slit the creature's throat. Orange light filled the room as it gurgled and slumped lifeless before her. She used the knife to break a section of the devil's trap, approaching Sam just as he came back to the waking world.

"What-what happened?" he gasped, pushing himself up onto his elbows to survey the scene.

"I sent him packing," she replied simply.

"I told you I was fine," he scowled, grunting as he rose shakily to his feet.

"Fine like a stroke," Ruby shot back. "You're bleeding out of your eyes, Sam. There's nothing fine about that."

"I could have done it," Sam insisted. "I could have saved him."

"Look, the fish was too big. We knew that when we picked him. It's fine. You can't save them all. You know that."

Sam cursed in frustration and put his fist through the wall. The shack they were in shook with his wrath while Ruby wiped her blade carefully.

"Some day you're gonna do that and hit a stud," Ruby observed nonchalantly.

"I can't keep doing this," Sam said in defeat. "I can't keep losing the people I'm supposed to be saving."

"You can't win overnight," Ruby pointed out. "You need to put in the work."

"What the hell have I been doing?" Sam demanded. "The work isn't working!"

"So you're gonna give up?" Ruby asked, thunking the tip of her knife into a battered tabletop. This was where she wanted him. At his breaking point. All she had to do now was push him over the edge.

"Maybe... maybe it's time to take this up a notch then," she suggested. She feigned hesitance carefully. This was delicate business.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we haven't taken this as far as possible," she said. "There's more we can do. More you can do."

She had his full attention. He wiped the blood from his eyes as he turned to face her, carefully keeping his gaze off the stiff in the devil's trap.

"What more can I do?" he asked suspiciously.

Ruby hid her excitement and did her best to look conflicted. "I don't know if it's a good idea," she said, biting her lip. "You might not be ready."

"Ready for what Ruby?" Sam demanded.

"Well... your powers come from demon blood," she explained. "If you really want to increase them... I mean, it's pretty obvious what you have to do."

"What are you trying to say?" Sam asked, staggering over to the table. He looked like hell, dried blood crusting in his eyelashes and clogging his nostrils.

"If you want to get stronger, you have to eat your vegetables," Ruby shrugged. "You have to go back the source of your power."

"I don't understand," Sam shook his head, leaning heavily against the table.

Ruby sighed heavily and flipped the demon-killing knife in her hand. With a grimace, she slashed her own wrist and presented the open vein to Sam for consideration.

"Demon blood," she told him. "It's the spinach to your popeye. If you want to get stronger, if you really want to save more people, this is how you do it."

Sam looked at her like she had lost her mind.

"You're kidding, right?" he asked.

"Come on, Sam. You knew this path wasn't going to be easy," Ruby coaxed him. Her blood dripped onto the pocked tabletop, collecting in the fading light as Sam cringed away from her. "It's up to you. How bad do you want to save your brother?"

Sam locked eyes with her, lost in thoughts that were hidden from Ruby. She held her breath waiting for his answer. In the silence the soft drip of her blood onto the wood sounded loud as drum.

Slowly, reluctant as sin, he leaned toward her. He seemed skittish as he kissed her wrist, smearing his lips with her blood, dark as liquid shadow and hot as burning pitch. Darkness fell outside like a curtain over their transgression as he pressed closer to her, eyes sliding shut while he suckled at her wound. Ruby's breath hitched as his mouth moved, soft against her skin as goosebumps appeared along her arm. She bit her lip and shivered in delight, bit her tongue to keep from crying out in ecstasy. She wanted to laugh, wanted to sing. Sam Winchester had fallen.

His eyes snapped open, huge in the darkness, bright with fire like Ruby had never seen there before.

"No," he growled, pulling away from her in disgust. He turned away and wiped his mouth violently, spitting to flush the metallic taste from his tongue.

Ruby was devastated by his rejection but she refused to let him see it. Instead, she scoffed and shook her head.

"Figures," she snarled, stepping past him to the body of the man he had failed to save moments earlier. She cut a piece of his shirt and wrapped it around her wrist, leveling Sam with a glare as she applied pressure to the slice that slowly leaked her host body's blood over the scene. "And you wonder why you still can't save anyone."

"I'm not doing it like this," Sam said, rolling a drop of her blood between his thumb and forefinger.

"Why? Because Dean didn't want you to?" Ruby demanded. "You know, if Dean wouldn't have been such a righteous piece of crap he would still be here."

"Don't talk about my brother," Sam growled.

"Why not? Who's going to stop me?" Ruby hissed. She was seriously pissed at Sam for escaping her snare and she wanted badly to hurt him. "He's not here to defend himself."

"Well I am."

"Nice. And what do you have to say for Saint Winchester?" Ruby mocked. Sam stood abruptly, knocking the table over in his rage. He advanced on Ruby and she let him wrap his fingers around her neck. "Go on, Sam," she egged him on hoarsely as he squeezed. "Do it."

He grabbed her wrist with his other hand, slamming it back against the wall as he lifted her up to his height. Her feet were off the floor and she found herself unable to breathe as he throttled her.

"Tell me something Sam," she hissed while she choked, all but spitting in his face in her anger. "Do you really think there are any lines your dumbass big brother wouldn't cross to save your life?"

"This isn't about what lines Dean would and wouldn't cross," Sam shot back, digging his thumb into the gash on her wrist. Ruby laughed at his sadism and blind devotion to his brother.

"Right. This is about little Sammy... this is about your lines, right?" Ruby chuckled. "Because you have such strong morals... you're the odd one out in your family, right? Always breaking away from the pack. Is that what this is about? You don't want to be like your brother? Like your father?"

"You can go to hell!" Sam growled.

"Been there, honey," Ruby sneered. "Just like your dimwit brother... I wish I could be there now, just for a second! I wish I could see him burn! I wish I could watch them stripping the flesh from his bones!"

"Stop it!" Sam shouted, slamming her head against the wall.

"I wonder if he's figured out by now that no one's coming to save him?" Ruby taunted. "If he's figured out that his brother doesn't care enough to do what it takes to get him back!"

Sam's scream of anguish was primal. She had found the right nerve to press. He released her and attacked her wrist with animalistic ferocity. His teeth scraped against her flesh and she gasped in pain as he gulped down a mouthful of her blood. Even so, she pressed against him, desperate to drag him deeper down the rabbit hole he had tripped into. She couldn't stop herself from laughing this time, victory overshadowing pain as Sam moaned against her wrist. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, pushing him closer and smearing blood across his face as he met her eyes. He must have seen her elation, must have known that she was sick with glee over his defeat. Still, he didn't break away from her this time, couldn't bring himself to pull back.

Ruby had him.

Dean adjusted the thrift store tie Vera had given him. There were cigarette holes in the bottom of it, but what the clinic doctors couldn't see wouldn't hurt them.

"Yeah, that's her," Dr. Avery confirmed, pointing to a picture of Alice Dean had pulled up on his phone. She was one of three clinicians who had contributed to the police composite that tipped Dean and Vera to Alice's presence in Valley Springs. Now, she answered questions for Dean and Vera on the porch of her victorian style home.

"You expect a certain amount of violence in this line of work," Dr. Avery went on, shaking her head. "I mean, I've gotten my share of death threats from protesters, but this... I have never heard of a patient turning on a medical practitioner like this."

"We're going to need to know exactly what happened that day," Vera said, pulling out a notepad.

"It was insane. This girl came in for our help and she just turned on us like a complete psychopath," Dr. Avery said. "It all happened so fast... one minute Dr. Suthers was examining her, the next thing we knew she was shooting."

"Something must have set her off," Dean suggested. "What led up to the incident?"

"Nothing set her off," Dr. Avery scowled at him. "Dr. Suthers told her she would have to undergo a mandatory seventy-two hour waiting period before we could go through with the procedure, and she flew off the rails."

"And nothing was missing from the clinic after she left?" Vera asked.

Dr. Avery fixed her with a stern frown.

"This wasn't some junkie," she said severely. "The motive here wasn't robbery. This woman was a cold-blooded killer."

"You think she was here to carry out a vendetta?" Vera pressed.

"Possibly. I can't rule out politics as a motivation."

Vera kept asking questions while Dean's attention lagged. He found himself staring at the picture of Alice they had shown Dr. Avery. He remembered the day he'd taken it, right after they left Phoenix together. Alice's eyes sparkled in the desert sunlight, daring him to snap her picture. She stayed frozen in time with the wind rustling through her hair. Dean wished he had more pictures of her, but somehow, their time together always seemed to end too soon, terribly abruptly.

The bottom dropped out of Dean's reality, leaving him in a nightmarish hellscape. Hot breath tickled his ear as Alice whispered something at his ear, soft as a prayer. It was, in fact, a prayer. She begged for help from on high, while Dean...

He dropped his phone on the wooden porch, startling himself back to his senses.

"Thank you for your time," Vera told the doctor, fixing Dean with a curious look as they prepared to leave. "You feeling ok there, Winchester? You're looking a little shell-shocked."

Dean felt shell-shocked. He cleared his throat and retrieved his phone.

"I'm fine," he assured her, tucking it safely into his pocket. "Now what? This is about as dead-end as it gets."

"Now I'm thinking we get a bite to eat," Vera said. "Then we stake out the good doctor's house. Alice won't stay away for long."

"Unless she's three states over," Dean pointed out.

"No, she's still here," Vera said with certainty.

"How can you be so sure?"

"She's not done here," Vera explained shortly.

"You have a real problem with sharing details," Dean said snippily.

"I have a real problem with partners who can't figure anything out for themselves," Vera snapped back. "Tell me, Winchester, what do you think Alice Smith was doing at an abortion clinic?"

"I don't know. Getting an abortion?" Dean snarked. He meant it as a joke, but Vera nodded as they got into the car.

"Exactly."

Dean frowned at her nonchalant tone.

"What?"

"That's exactly what she was doing here."

"What are you, crazy?" Dean demanded. "That's not what she was here for."

"Open your eyes to the writing on the wall," Vera admonished him. She started holding up fingers as she laid her points out for him.

"First of all, she didn't take anything. She wasn't there for drugs or medical care. She didn't start shooting until after the doctor told her she was going to have to wait, so she's obviously in a hurry to get this done. Most importantly, there's no case in town. Alice had no reason to be here aside from ridding herself of an unwanted pregnancy."

"Ok, ignoring the fact that your theory is insane," Dean said, "Why stick around in Valley Springs? It's not like this is the only abortion clinic in the state."

"Isn't it?"

Dean did a double-take.

"I mean, it can't be, right?"

"Check the map, Winchester. It damn near is."

"Well that's... inconvenient," Dean frowned.

"That's the point," Vera informed him. "It's South Dakota, they're not trying to make it easy for women to get this done."

"Ok, but even so... it's too sloppy. There's no way Alice would still be here after what she did."

"Twenty bucks says you're wrong."

"I'll take that bet."

"You are so on."

Dean got in the car with Vera, absently counting on his fingers while she started the engine. She noticed and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Whatcha counting, sheep?" she asked as she threw them into reverse.

"Months," Dean replied, starting over. "It's what, six weeks from december?"

"Eight," Vera corrected him.

Dean fell silent, biting his lip as he frowned out the window.

"Can't be," he said finally, crossing his arms over his chest and shuddering at the thought.

"What?"

"Your theory. There's no way."

"No way what, Alice is knocked up?"

"Can you please not put it like that?"

"How do you want me to put it?" she asked, rolling her eyes at him.

"Honestly, I'd prefer it if you didn't," Dean sighed.

"Look honey, it is what it is," Vera told him matter of factly. "If Alice is in the family way, are you still going to be able to do what needs to be done?"

"What exactly is it that needs to be done?" Dean demanded.

"Alice is dangerous. It's high time someone took care of her for good," Vera said.

Dean wanted to agree with her, but something deep inside of him wouldn't allow it.

"Why don't we cross that bridge if we come to it," he grumbled, loosening his tie. He had no weapons, not so much as a knife and it made him terribly uneasy. Vera didn't trust him to not stab her in the back, either literally or figuratively.

"You don't want to take her out," Vera observed.

"Not really, no."

"Why?" she asked, sounding genuinely perplexed. "After everything that happened between you two, I would think you'd be ready to put a bullet through her heart."

"It's complicated," Dean informed her. "Alice... she's not a saint, but she's not a monster either."

"A lot of people would disagree with you."

"A lot of people didn't know her like I did," Dean pointed out.

"So what do you think we should do with her?" Vera asked.

"Honestly? I have no idea," Dean admitted. "All I know is, I'm not ready to just write her off."

"Because of her, or because of the bun she might have in the oven?" Vera asked.

"Well, the bun doesn't really matter, does it?" Dean asked. "I mean, if you're right- which, let's get this straight, I don't really believe you are anyway- her whole reason for being here is to get the bun out of the picture."

"Humor me," Vera prodded, expression strangely troubled. "Say Alice was in the family way. How would that make you feel?"

"How about we focus on the task at hand?" Dean said, changing the subject before she could drag an answer out of him. "I'm not making it through an all-nighter without a jug of caffeine and if I'm right and Alice doesn't make an appearance, we'll be here for more than just one night."

"Fine. What did you think about that diner we passed on the way into town?"

"Looked decent. Seems like the kind of place that keeps a cheap slice of pie on hand."

"Your criteria when it comes to food are hilarious," Vera chuckled.

They drove to the diner and ordered coffee and pie. Once they were settled, Vera made a beeline for the bathroom. Once she was gone, Dean considered his options. It occurred to him that he could slip away while she was gone, but he quickly dismissed the thought. One way or another, Vera was right. Something needed to be done about Alice. What precisely that was could be debated all day, but that didn't change the fact that something still needed to be done. And it would be easier to get it done with Vera than without her.

"Winchester. You're about as easy to keep hold of as an eel in a jug of oil, you know that?"

Dean startled as Kaydie slid into the booth across from him. She raised an eyebrow at him severely and crossed her arms over her chest.

"So? What do you have to say for yourself?" she demanded.

Dean afforded her a tense smile, eyes on the bathroom door to her back.

"What can I say, I'm a free spirit," he informed her.

"You are so lucky my grandmother didn't find out you gave me the slip," Kaydie said, close to snarling at him in her anger.

"Or what, she was gonna spoon feed me castor oil as punishment?" Dean shot back.

"Funny. We'll see how funny you are when you've got twenty demons flaying your ass ten ways from sunday," Kaydie said.

"Scary. You know what though? Not as scary as a possessive pack of hunters who always seem to find you no matter who you hitch with. How'd you pull that off, by the way?"

"Tracking spell."

"Nice. Real nice."

"Don't get righteous with me over methodology Winchester. Look, I know why you're here."

"Is that so?"

"It wasn't hard to figure out. I know how you feel about her, but Alice is more dangerous than you know."

"I doubt that."

"There are things you don't know about her."

"Shocker. I know she has a complicated past."

"Jon Snow has a complicated past," Kaydie snorted derisively. "Alice Smith has a closet full of skeletons that would set even your broken teeth on edge."

She studied him closely and he shifted uncomfortably under her sharp gaze.

"Look, I'm just here to make sure you're ok," she finally sighed. She stood, glancing around the diner surreptitiously as she prepared to leave. "When you figure out you need my help, I'll be close by."

She left him frowning just as Vera came back from the bathroom. She noticed his troubled expression and raised an eyebrow.

"Pie let you down?" she asked.

"Yeah. Stale crust," Dean sighed, pushing it away. Between hunting Alice and being unable to shake Kaydie, he'd lost his appetite. It also didn't help that he couldn't stop thinking about the possibility that Alice could be carrying a child. His child, if his math was right. And there was something knawing at the back of his mind like a termite.

Dean was sure he'd seen Alice in hell. The flashes and glimpses that kept assaulting him were unmistakable. But if that was the case, how had she made it back topside? Dean still didn't even know how he had made it back.

All he knew was that things were getting more complicated by the minute, and he still didn't know where his brother was. At this rate, it would be months before he reunited with Sam. He didn't even know if Sam was still alive. He caught himself chewing his nails with worry and forced himself to stop.

Sam was a big boy. He didn't need Dean to look after him. He would be fine until Dean took care of Alice. He could worry about his brother after.