Dean's search for Alice's remains led him to the waiting area of Arroyo Grande's Sheriff station. He took a deep breath, resisting the urge to smooth his suit out as he sat patiently. He needed to look confident, as comfortable in these clothes as if he wore them every day. Fidgeting with your clothes was a good way to raise red flags.

Despite Rufus' advice that he go with a civilian story, Dean decided to play it safe. Today he was posing as an FBI agent looking into a cold case that crossed state lines. With a little luck it would be believable and throw enough authority behind him to keep eyebrows from being raised.

The wait was short, but every second managed to sit wrong with Dean. He told himself he needed to keep emotion out of this. He needed to treat it like any other case. This was just another restless spirit, just another routine salt and burn. Just another day on the job.

Except that it wasn't. Today it was personal. Today, he had a stake in the outcome. Today, despite telling himself he was doing what he had to, he half-hoped that he didn't find what he was looking for.

"Agent Bonham?"

"You must be Sheriff Ricks," Dean said, standing to shake the man's hand.

"Sure am. I tell you what, the last thing I expected when I came in this morning was a visit from the feds," Ricks told him. "What's this my deputy's telling me about a Jane Doe?"

"I'm working a cold case from '97," Dean told him. "Possible runaway, but we're trying to link it to a trafficking ring working across three states."

"Yeesh. You're going back far on this one, huh? Walk with me," Ricks said. He led Dean into his office. "So, what do you have for us to go on?" he asked, settling back into his desk chair while Dean took a seat across from him.

"Well, the girl I'm looking for would have been around 17 when she showed up here," Dean said. "We have reason to believe that she may have been going by the assumed name Miller. I tracked her down to the Cardinal Inn on Iving St., but, surprise surprise, ten years is long enough that no one there had anything helpful to say to me."

"Yeah, shocking," Ricks said sarcastically as he logged into his computer. "Well, I can run that info through the system, see what comes up, but speaking from experience, I can tell you that kids like these drop off the radar, you know? I mean, the chances of... oh. Huh. Whaddaya know?"

Dean perked up, leaning closer to see what the Sheriff found so interesting on his screen.

"Ok. So, there's actually a whole file on this Miller character. Says here she was... yep, found dead at the Cardinal Inn. Stabbed. Says here she had four falsified IDs in her room, nothing linking her to anything real, hence the Jane Doe classification... BAC 0.9... yeesh. She was actually under investigation at the time. I've got a video file here, let's take a look..."

A few keystrokes and clicks later, Ricks swung the screen around so Dean could watch the footage with him. It was a liquor store security feed.

There she was, clear as day. Alice Smith, ten years ago, perusing the store's whiskey selection gravely.

"That's her, alright," Dean sighed. He tried to tell himself this was a good thing, but found it hard to not to be disappointed. Ricks didn't miss his lack of enthusiasm.

"Hey, I know how it is," he assured Dean comfortingly, misreading his depression. "Sometimes you really hope you won't find these girls... as long as you don't know what happened, they might still be out there somewhere, right?"

"Right," Dean agreed distractedly, focusing on the tape with a frown as he watched Alice try to run a card that apparently didn't go through. She started arguing with the clerk, a woman in her forties. After a few minutes, it got heated and Alice pulled a gun on the woman.

"Whoa!" Ricks exclaimed as the scene unfolded. On screen, Alice took one step back with her gun raised and the alcohol clutched to her chest. Though the tape had no audio, Dean could tell that a shot went off from the recoil. The woman screamed and scrambled away, while Alice, apparently, tried and failed to get off a few more shots.

"Gun jammed?" Dean suggested, squinting at the tape.

"Looks like it," Ricks said absently, enraptured with the video. They watched as Alice tried to right her firearm while the clerk rummaged desperately through her handbag. Just as Alice raised her weapon again, the woman came up with a spray and unloaded it into Alice's face, seeming to berate her all the while. Defeated and clutching her eyes, Alice dropped her gun and liquor and dashed for the door. She smacked hard into the glass, fell on her ass, got back up and disappeared into the night.

Part of Dean was amused. His first instinct was that he couldn't wait to give Alice a hard time about having been defeated by a lady clerk with a can of pepper spray.

Then he remembered that if he was successful, he would never get the chance to give Alice a hard time about anything ever again.

"Call me biased, but I have a hard time picturing that girl trafficked," Ricks said skeptically.

"Well, uh..."

Dean cleared his throat and settled back into his chair.

"Like I said, we're just looking into that possibility. It's just as likely that we're looking at a runaway here."

"In which case you lose jurisdiction," Ricks pointed out.

"She crossed state lines, whether she did it as a trafficking victim or a runaway doesn't change that fact," Dean said firmly. "Either way, it's my responsibility to get her body back home to her family. Does it say where she was buried?"

"Let's see... mmm... no," Ricks said after a glance through the file.

"Excuse me?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"I can tell what you're thinking, we didn't lose her body," Ricks assured him. "There's an amended interment record saying she was exhumed two years ago after the case was briefly reopened. You know how it is, you gotta check in every few years as the technology changes."

"Right."

"Well, technology can only do so much, and in her case it did jack squat."

Ricks scrolled down a few pages.

"She was never reburied," he informed Dean. "She's downtown in lockup labeled Jane Doe #87. If you want, I can start the release paperwork."

"Not yet," Dean told him quickly. The last thing he needed was for this guy to log his visit, or worse, file paperwork that would alert the actual feds to his presence. He could get into the downtown evidence lockup on his own. It wouldn't be the first time he'd circumvented red tape for the sake of time, simplicity and anonymity. "I've got miles of red tape to get through with my superiors before I even think of that yet."

"You sure? Release papers can take a while to go through," Ricks suggested, suspicion creeping into his tone.

"With a little luck I'll get the green light tomorrow or the next day," Dean said firmly. "For now, can I just get you to send me that file? So I can run it through my home office."

"Right."

Ricks sounded dubious, but he did it anyway.

"I appreciate it," Dean told him with a smile.

"Good luck getting your green light," Ricks told him, shaking his hand as he stood to leave.

"Thanks."

Dean left and Ricks retook his seat. He rocked in his chair for a few minutes, then pulled out the card his deputy had handed him, containing 'Agent Bonham's' information. It included a branch number and the name of his supervisor.

Sheriff Ricks wasn't usually one to question higher authorities, but today was a slow day. He had a weird gut feeling and nothing better to do. He got on the net and did a quick search for the branch Bonham claimed to come from. Sure enough, most of the information on the bureau's website matched the information on the card. One key detail, however, had been altered.

The phone number for Agent Bonham's supervisor.

"Yeesh," he muttered to himself, clicking his tongue severely as he pondered the implications of this discovery. He leaned back, bit his lip, sipped a cup of coffee that had been cold for three hours, and wondered if he was getting in way over his head.

"What the hell," he finally said, picking up his phone and dialing the number from the bureau's web page. He figured the worst that could happen was he would be wrong and some people in DC that he would never meet would have a good laugh at his expense. He didn't mind being laughed at if the joke was funny.

"So what, you just… don't care what Vera tells the world about what happened to her?"

Loki sat in the passenger seat of the police car that, technically speaking, Alice had not stolen. She was possessing the officer driving it. They were parked out on I40, just a few miles from the Smith compound. Laying in wait.

"Why should I care?" Alice asked with officer Deneg's voice. She took another look at him in the rearview mirror, considering the sharp, square structure of his young, clean-shaven face. He wasn't a bad looking guy, really. She told him as much, but he was too freaked out by the fact that she was controlling his body to be flattered.

"No one's going to believe anything she has to say anyway," Alice told Loki, focusing her attention back on the highway.

"Hunters might."

"So what?"

"So, I'm already going to have enough trouble keeping the demons off your ass," Loki pointed out. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't make my new job any harder."

"Please. First of all, Vera's smart enough to keep her mouth shut," Alice sighed. "Trust me, I was in her head for long enough to know. Secondly, what are the odds that she's going to run across any hunters to tell? And third, why should you care if hunters come after us? If it's no problem for you to handle the demons and the reapers, what trouble could hunters make?"

"Demons and reapers are predictable," Loki replied. "Humans… not so much. They always find a way to throw you for a loop."

It didn't escape Alice that he didn't seem to be including her in the human category anymore. She thought about saying something in protest, but bit her tongue. She guessed he was right to exclude her from the rest of humanity. Whatever she was now, she hadn't been human for a while now. Officer Deneg and Vera would be the first to testify to that fact.

"Whatever you say. Can't you blend with me a little?" Alice demanded, gesturing to Loki's outfit. In jeans, a flannel shirt and a denim jacket, he was out of place in the passenger seat of the police cruiser, to say the least.

"Don't see the need," Loki said nonchalantly. "The whole reason I brought you in is so I don't have to get my hands dirty. That includes not having to sit around in a stuffy ass uniform while we wait for… actually, you want to tell me what exactly it is that we're waiting for?"

"My ticket into the Smith compound," Alice replied. "This isn't the first time I've thought about breaking into this place. I've already got a good idea about how to get this done."

"Wanna share with the class?"

"Don't see the need," Alice rebuffed him smartly.

Loki chortled and applauded her snidely.

"You're almost as big of a smartass as me," he complimented her. "Such a Mary Sue… damn I know how to pick the right guy for the job. Sorry, gal. I forgot for a minute there, seeing as you're…"

He gestured to Deneg's body and Alice pursed the lips she was borrowing from him.

"Speaking of bodies, if I pull this off for you, I want you to get me mine back," she told him.

"By your body, you mean… what exactly?" Loki frowned.

"The shapeshifter, Danny. I mean, if he's still alive," Alice amended. "I guess if you can't find him I'll just take any shapeshifter."

"Uh-huh."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, I can tell you have something sassy to say about it," Alice scowled. "Come on, spit it out."

"Chatting time's up," Loki said, nodding to the rearview mirror. "Or was I wrong to assume we were sitting here waiting for a Smith to drive past?"

Alice checked the mirror and saw a pickup approaching. It shot past them and she threw the car into gear, turning the sirens on as she sped off after the Smith.

"If you knew what we were waiting for this whole time, why bother asking?" she snapped in annoyance. Loki was two-faced in everything he did and after only a day with him, it was already starting to work her nerves.

"Just making conversation," Loki said, putting his hands up defensively. "You're so serious, come on! Lighten up a little."

"Yeah, well you're not serious about anything. We should trade."

"I would literally rather die."

Ahead of them, the truck pulled over and Alice followed suit.

"Come on, either suit up of disappear," Alice insisted, donning a pair of sunglasses as she prepared to approach the driver she'd stopped.

"Don't boss me around," Loki chided her. "He can't see me. What do I look like, an amateur? A mortal?"

"I hate you. I hope you know that."

"Aw come on, you love hanging out with me and you know it," Loki chuckled smugly.

"I'd almost rather be in hell," Alice muttered under her breath, slamming the door on Loki. Truth be told, she might have been able to like Loki if he was anything other than what he was. The trickster reminded her a lot of Dean, only… well, trickier. Alice was heavily prejudiced against Tricksters and no matter how beneficial it was for her to attach herself to this one, she didn't see herself warming to him anytime soon.

Alice focused on the task at hand, keeping her guard up as she approached the truck. It's bed was packed with crates covered by a tightly drawn blue tarp.

"Afternoon officer," the man driving greeted Alice, completely unsuspecting. "Before you ask, let me just say that yes, I do know I was speeding."

"Great, well since that's out of the way, why don't you go ahead and get out of the vehicle for me?" Alice said, slightly amused by this Smith's confident attitude. He regarded her carefully, putting a lot of thought into what he said next.

"You must be new," he guessed.

"Fresh off the boat," Alice lied.

"Ok. Well, if you could do me a favor and call police chief Smith before this goes any further, I'd sincerely appreciate it. Tell him you stopped Marvin and see what he has to say about it."

Alice was impressed with the lengths to which the Smiths had gone to embed themselves into their surroundings, avoiding detection and outside regulation. She bet they got away with murder on their home turf, probably quite literally and quite a lot. She also realized that taking out the Smith's base of operations would only do so much to neutralize them as agents of heaven.

"Yeah, I don't think so buddy," she told him with Deneg's voice. "I'm gonna need you to step out of the vehicle. Keep your hands where I can see them."

Marvin sighed heavily, shaking his head for a long moment before he complied.

"What a pain. Tell you what though, it's gonna be a bigger problem for you than me," he assured her.

"Whatever you say pal," Alice smirked. She patted him down quickly but she wasn't looking for weapons. She'd only ever encountered one person with pockets full of salt, but she wasn't taking any chances. Especially not with a pack of hunters as eccentric as the Smiths.

Ok now cutie, I'm gonna let you go on your way, she told Deneg. Go fast and don't look back, got it? And keep your mouth shut. I can find you anywhere.

Deneg was a mess, but she could tell that he understood well enough, had a good enough grasp of the consequences should he fail to do as she said. She jumped bodies quickly, experienced enough by now that it took little effort on her part. Marvin resisted, but not quickly enough.

What the hell-

Just relax, Marvin, Alice told him, shoving him aside and settling into his skin as Deneg collapsed to the ground at her back. He flailed around on his knees for a minute while Alice made herself at home in Marvin's head. By the time she beat him into mental submission, Deneg was halfway to his cruiser. He jumped in and floored it, taking off down the highway with his lights still flashing.

"Let me guess, you spent enough time in his head to know that he's not going to flap his trap either," Loki sighed, appearing next to Alice abruptly.

"And even if he does-"

"No one'll believe him, sure. So, what's the move?"

Alice had put a lot of thought into what she would do after she managed to infiltrate the Smith compound and had come to the conclusion that no plan was perfect. The only thing that was guaranteed was that the operation was going to go sideways at some point, potentially fatally for her. With that in mind, she decided to throw caution to the wind and have as much fun as she could.

"Ditch whatever's in the crates and replace it with something that'll go boom," she instructed him with an unhinged grin.

"That's it? Your only plan is to go in there and blow the place sky-high?" Loki asked skeptically.

"Honestly, the big explosion is pretty much just gonna be a distraction and a draw," Alice explained. "I'm betting that the Smiths won't take kindly to an explosion in their courtyard. I'm also betting that they'll all show up to deal with it armed. And that no one'll have salt in their pockets."

"Oh, I got it," Loki realized. Alice's plan was to jump from body to body until the job was over, borrowing resources along the way. A demonic strategy, but Alice had the advantage of being unhindered by devil's traps and the other wards that targeted the spawn of hell. At least, for the time being.

"With a little luck, the Smiths'll do as much as half of my job for me before they catch on," Alice winked.

"And if you're not lucky?"

"Well, I'm already dead. What's the worst they can do to me?" she pointed out.

Loki laughed, whole-hearted in his endorsement of her plan.

"It's a shame you're so bigoted," he lamented. "Otherwise, I'm telling you, we could have a lot of fun together."

Kaydie caught up to Dean outside Arroyo Grande's evidence lockup site. She knew it went against her orders, but she planned to follow him into the building. She wanted to make sure he did what he had come here to do. Destroy Alice forever. After seeing her true colors, he should have been able to follow through with it, but Kaydie wasn't certain he would be able to do it. In the short time she'd spent observing Dean Winchester, he'd demonstrated himself to be a highly effective hunter. He had one glaringly obvious weakness though. Dean's achilles heel was emotional. He blinded himself when it came to the people he was close to.

Of course, for him to give Alice a pass after their fight in Sioux falls would be ridiculous. But Kaydie had seen people do ridiculous things for love in her time, and if Dean wasn't the type of man to sell his soul for the ones he loved, neither of them would be here in the first place. She downed a few more advil to soothe her aching muscles, chasing them with the remainder of the cola that had been keeping her awake the past two days.

Before she could pursue Dean, her phone rang, vibrating in her pocket. She settled back into her seat with a sigh, annoyed until she realized who was calling her. She answered quickly.

"Update me," came Greta's voice, skipping all formality. She sounded tense, like she was taking time away from something important to call Kaydie.

Kaydie filled her Grandmother in to the events of the past few days as briefly as possible, matching Greta's brisk, businesslike tone. Greta let her speak uninterrupted and was silent for moment once she finished. Kaydie waited patiently for Greta to collect her thoughts. She knew her grandmother never spoke hastily.

"Let Dean handle Alice," she finally said. "Don't intervene unless he's in clear and present danger."

Kaydie scowled silently in frustration. Greta knew her too well. She knew Kaydie wanted the pleasure of helping burn Alice's bones.

"As for the angel, keep your distance from him if you can. He's the real reason I called you. It's a relief to hear that you two have parted ways for the time being."

"I don't understand," Kaydie said, confused. "I thought we were both on the same side."

"That never matters when you're dealing with angels," Greta informed her. "Their immediate goals can differ greatly from ours, even seem to contradict them at times, despite the fact that we're all working toward the same end. I'm running short on time at the moment, Kaydie. When I see you next, I'll sit you down and explain everything. Alright?"

"Alright," Kaydie sighed.

"I love you. You know that."

"I... love you too," Kaydie said. She frowned a little. She wasn't unhappy to hear those words from her Grandmother, but she was surprised. It wasn't something said often between them. "Grandma, is everything ok?"

Greta sighed deeply.

"I don't want to distract you from the task at hand," she said. "I don't want you to worry about something you have no part in."

Kaydie's alarm grew.

"Grandma, what's going on?" she asked urgently.

"I don't want to burden you."

Greta's tone told Kaydie that though the words were true, she was also troubled and she wished she had someone to share the weight of her worries.

"Tell me," Kaydie insisted. "I won't let it break my focus. As second in command, I should know anything important, right? Just in case, right?"

She was referencing past conversations. Ones Greta always ended with 'Just in case something ever happens to me'. Neither of them expected that would be anytime soon, so the sentiment had become a running gag between them.

"Of course. Just in case," Greta said, a hint of a smile hiding in her voice. "I just received new orders from heaven. They want us to-"

Greta cut off abruptly. Kaydie heard yelling on her end of the line.

"Something's happening. I'll call you back," Greta said shortly. She ended the call, leaving Kaydie chewing her lip. Her head spun as she wondered what the new orders were, what instructions could have been sent that unsettled her Grandmother so. She wondered what all the commotion was about, what could have happened back home that would cause Greta to hang up so suddenly and with so little explanation.

Kaydie took a deep, calming breath and forced all those thoughts from her mind. After all, she had assured her Grandmother that she would keep her focus on the task she had been assigned. She had to keep her word.

Dean emerged from the lockup facility toting a duffel bag he had brought in with him. Now, it sagged with the weight of its contents. A chill ran down Kaydie's spine as she considered what they were. The key to ending Alice Smith for good. She was filled with regret that she had been forbidden from taking part in their burning. Dean didn't want her helping him either, but she didn't care what he wanted. Greta's orders, on the other hand, she took very seriously. As much as she hated Alice, as much as she wanted to be the one to throw the match on her pyre, she couldn't bring herself to go against her orders.

She followed Dean back to his hotel, shaking her head when he disappeared into his room with the duffel. What the hell was he doing anyway? He couldn't burn bones in there. He was too experienced to do something stupid like that and Kaydie knew it. His experience should also have told him that the best move for him at this point was to do the deed under the cover of darkness and blow town before the cops caught on to the fact that someone had broken into their lockup.

Kaydie cracked her knuckles, seething as she considered that maybe Dean wouldn't be able to go through with it. Maybe his heart wouldn't allow him to do what needed to be done. And now, she had orders preventing her from intervening and doing it herself. What a pain.

Kaydie's fuming was interrupted by movement at the hotel. Someone was approaching Dean's door. Two someone's actually. Under cover of darkness, Kaydie couldn't see who they were from where she sat. All she could tell was that one was tall, definitely a man, and that the other was a woman. She pulled out a pair of binoculars, zeroing in on the tall man.

"Oh," she breathed in recognition. She had met him once before.

It would seem that Sam Winchester had finally found out that his brother was back from the dead.

"Took him long enough," she muttered, rolling her eyes and settling back into her seat. Of all the people in the world, she assumed that Sam was the least likely to be a threat to Dean.

Dean's operation to snatch Alice's bones was a roaring success. He expected something to go wrong at some point. Surely, out of all the police buildings he'd broken into in his day, this would be the hardest one.

It turned out that the lock was one of the crappiest he'd ever encountered on city building.

Surely, there would be someone inside he would have to contend with. This city was big enough that night shift should have been on duty within.

The place was dark and deserted.

Surely, the bodies would be hard to find. Maybe the labeling would be unclear. He braced himself to take multiple sets of bones. Better to burn them all than pick out the wrong ones and leave the job unfinished.

All the Jane Does were packed neatly into vacuum bags tucked into bankers boxes, clearly labelled and numbered.

The whole thing went off without a single hitch. Of course, the one time Dean could have used a few hitches, the one time he wouldn't have minded an excuse to fail, everything went perfectly.

So Dean left with #87. He left with all that remained of Alice Smith. A pile of bones long since stripped by time and decay of all flesh and structure. Now he sat in his motel room, considering the decade old skeleton still vacuum sealed into a plastic bag. It was strange to think that this was someone he knew. Someone he had so much history with. Strange to think that this was all Alice Smith boiled down to, dangerous as she was, clever and resourceful and psychotic and pretty. All any human did, in the end, no matter who or what they were.

He knew what he had to do. He'd done it too many times before to count. This was his life. This was his job.

So why was he still sitting here? Why couldn't he stop looking at Alice's bones and go burn them?

He uncapped a bottle of whiskey he'd prepared for the occasion and took a long drink.

"Fuck, Alice," he growled. He hated that she had forced his hand this way. Left him with no choice. He hated her for making him feel this way. Cornered. Helpless.

Why did she have to be so horrible?

Of course, that was it! Alice was horrible. Dean needed to focus on that. Alice was spiteful, snide, and petty. She was a murderer and a liar, she was self-serving and inconsiderate and…

And…

And Dean loved her in spite of all that. He still loved her, even though if she had her way, he would be rotting in hell right now. He loved her smile and her sense of humor and the fact that she was just as enthusiastic about killing things as he was. He loved that she was unpredicable and kept him on his toes. He loved that they liked the same music and he even loved it that she liked music that he couldn't stand.

Alice Smith was completely crazy and Dean loved that when she was around, he felt like he wasn't.

But none of that mattered. How Dean felt about Alice didn't matter because at the end of the day, she had finally gone too far. She had finally crossed the line and as much as he wanted to forgive her, as desperately as he wanted to make excuses for her, Dean couldn't justify her actions anymore. Bitterness and anger washed over him and he hurled the whiskey bottle against the motel wall with a primal shout of fury.

"Fuck!" he yelled, standing and kicking over the chair he'd just been sitting in. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck fuck!"

He stomped the chair a few times, venting his anger and despair onto the cheap wood that cracked and splintered under the intensity of his rage. When it lay in pieces, he stopped, breathing heavily. Destroying the chair hadn't made him feel any better. He was afraid that this time, nothing would.

He had to do this.

Or did he?

Dean leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and catching his breath while he considered his options. Alice had to be taken care of. That didn't mean that he had to be the one to do it. Kaydie was parked across the street, a stone's throw away. He knew she would gladly do the deed for him. She was chomping at the bit to get back at her cousin. All it would take was a word from Dean…

Dean sighed heavily, wearily. As tempting as that out was, as much of a relief as it would be to hand this responsibility off to someone else, he knew it wouldn't be right. It was twisted, but Dean felt in his gut that he was the only one who could do this. It was going to kill him, but he knew in his heart that it would be cowardly to push this job off on a stranger. Alice deserved better than that. She was dying for good because of a fight she'd had with Dean. Because it was Dean's line she'd crossed, Dean's point of no return she had ventured beyond.

Dean's code of honor demanded that he finish what he had started.

Quietly, Dean settled down on the bed beside the duffel bag. He took one last look at its contents, then zipped it up and stood, slipping into his jacket. He was ready. He was as at peace with his decision as he ever would be. All that was left was to get it done. And afterwards, he would drink until he forgot about it. Maybe he would be drinking for the rest of his life trying to forget it. That was just the price he would pay for his morality. There was nothing to be done for it.

Dean was stopped by a knock at the door. The sound was unexpected and jarring. He froze for a minute, relief flooding him at this distraction. He rushed to the door, throwing it open without even glancing through the peephole. He half-hoped that it was some enemy come to catch him off guard. If someone killed him before he got the chance to burn Alice's bones, well, that would get him off the hook.

Dean's mouth fell open and he stared in shock at the sight that greeted him.

"Sam?"