Alice sat at a motel table, staring down a gallon of holy water. Allison poured some into a shot glass and slid it across the tabletop to her sister. Alice glanced dubiously from the shot to Allison and back again.

"I'm just having a hard time seeing the benefits of this exercise," she said.

"Just dip your finger in it. It'll be fun," Allison said encouragingly.

"Why would it be fun? Seriously, even if nothing happens, what part of sticking my finger in a shot glass is fun?" Alice demanded. "You know why 'finger the shot glass' isn't anyone's favorite game? Because no one's ever played it before. Because it's not fun."

"Don't be nervous. If it burns, just pull it back out again," Allison egged. She pushed the glass a little closer with a smile that was supposed to be reassuring. Instead, it came across as overly eager. Alice glared at her.

"Stop acting so excited about it."

"I'm not excited!"

"You are!"

"I'm not! Really! I... I guess I just can't wait to prove to you that Loki's a lying, scheming piece of crap," Allison admitted. "Geez, I can't believe I live in a world where I have to prove something like that to you of all people."

"Even liars tell the truth once in a blue moon," Alice pointed out.

"And you think a blue moons coming around anytime soon?"

"Maybe."

"Only one way to find out," Allison said. She nudged the shot glass even closer to Alice, who took a deep breath. Truth be told, she was terrified to know for sure. She wanted to leave the test untaken, keep living in the reality where the only proof that she was going black-eyed was the unreliable word of the Norse god of trickery. Deep down though, Alice knew it was only a matter of time before what she suspected was the truth came to light. Alice didn't have time to live in a convenient lie.

"Fine. Here goes nothing," she sighed, tracing the rim of the glass with her index finger. She took a deep breath and dipped it in, wincing as the cold caressed her skin. She sat tight, on edge, every muscle in her body wound up as she waited for something, anything to happen. When nothing did, she breathed a sigh of relief, while Allison started clapping happily across the table.

"See? I told you," she said triumphantly. "Loki's completely full of shit."

Alice started to smile, but stopped abruptly as she felt something on her finger. The coolness of the water started to fade. Slowly, it began to feel hotter against Alice's skin. She eyed her finger with disbelief, refusing to pull it from the water as disappointment filler her. Allison watched her sister's expression fall and her eyes darted down to the glass. She didn't see anything. No smoke, no steam, no disturbance at all.

"What's wrong?" she asked, puzzled.

"It... itches," Alice said, grimacing.

"Your finger?"

"No, my big toe! What do you think, genius?" Alice demanded. The itching intensified and she pulled her finger out of the water, shaking it and drying it on the end of her sleeve. She pulled a folding knife out of her pocket, flipped it open and scraped her finger lightly with the blade, sighing in satisfaction as the itch faded.

Allison crossed her arms over her chest with a dark, troubled frown.

"What does that mean?" Alice asked, putting her knife away as Allison stood and started pacing.

"I'm not sure," Allison replied.

Alice huffed in annoyance. She'd had a headache for the past few hours and it was only getting worse. She felt sick and jittery. Habitually, she reached for her jacket pocket, only to remember that Allison had confiscated her cigarettes.

"I need a drink," she groaned, pushing away from the table and heading for the door.

"No, you don't," Allison corrected her, grabbing the door handle before Alice could get to it. Fury rose in Alice, but she forced it down.

"Yes, I do," she insisted.

"If you get a drink, it's gonna be because you want one," Allison said stubbornly. "Not because you've got the shakes because you haven't had one in a few hours."

Alice had spent nearly every waking moment of the last month and a half shit-faced. The dry spell Allison was imposing on her was causing her more pain than Alice liked to admit, to herself or her sister.

"Fine, I want a drink," Alice all but snarled, trying to push Allison out of her way. Allison wobbled, but managed to hold her ground. Absently, Alice tried to recall if they had gotten into so many physical fights before their separation. She realized that up until she lost Allison, she could count the number of blows they'd traded on one hand. After having been reunited no more than three days, they'd had almost half as many fights as in that ten year span. Was this the way it would always be between them? Were they doomed to butt heads on everything for the rest of their lives?

"Ok, so how about you wait for what you want until after we do a little digging?" Allison suggested.

"Digging into what?" Alice demanded, her anger starting to get the best of her.

"How a human soul turns into a demon," Allison said patiently. "And how to stop it from happening."

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Alice growled. "You can't stop it!"

"We don't know that!"

"You want to waste your time chasing a cure for this? Be my guest! But don't expect me to waste my time on it!" Alice snapped, shoving Allison hard enough to throw her off balance. She stumbled back, catching herself on the wall. Alice stormed out of the room by the time she recovered, leaving the door open behind her. Allison collected herself enough to stand in the doorway and yell after her sister.

"Alice, what's wrong with you?!" Allison demanded.

Alice flipped her the bird over her shoulder and kept stomping away. Allison considered going after her, but after a few deep breaths, decided that chasing Alice down wouldn't do any good. Instead, she closed the door, opened her laptop and started searching.

Dean finished etching a line of runes onto the base of a slug and held it up to show his work.

"Voila," he told Henricksen.

"What am I looking at?" Henricksen asked indulgently.

Dean had insisted Henricksen buy him a few drinks, the price of doing business after their unpleasant history together. Over those drinks, Henricksen had updated him on the case. One victim, a woman, her body discovered in the woods minus the heart. Dead ringer for a creature case, or at least, Dean thought so until Henricksen told him about the second victim. The day Dean arrived in town a man was found dead in his home. His liver had been removed.

"Trafficking ring in town?" Henricksen had suggested. "Black market organ harvesters or something?"

"Could be," Dean mused. "Or..."

"Or what?"

"Tell you what. You go grill the police chief before he goes home for the night, see if the cops have been able to find a connection between the victims."

"Where are you going?" Henricksen demanded as Dean walked away.

"I've seen something like this before," Dean said. "Gotta get ready for the part where we kill the evil son of a bitch."

Now, he handed Henricksen the engraved bullet and emptied his clip onto the table.

"Witch-killing bullet," Dean informed him. "That's your example. We're gonna want ten more like it before we do anything else. Take a seat."

Dean slid a knife across the table which Henricksen eyed scrupulously.

"Witch-killing bullet," he repeated as he sat across from Dean. "We talking Hansel and Gretel, witch in a candy house here, or are you thinking more wicked witch of the west?"

"None of the above," Dean said, starting on another bullet. "If this really is a witch we're dealing with, which I'd put good money on by the way, we're looking at an old ass lady. Or... guy. Witches can be dudes.

"Uh-huh."

Henricksen looked skeptical, but to his credit, he kept his mouth shut and let Dean go on.

Heart, liver... if I'm right, they're gathering the ingredients they need for a rejuvenation ritual. Turn the clock back a little for the witch so they can keep that youthful glow without all the botox bills. Me and my dad worked a case just like this back in... damn, must have been '02? '03 maybe. Anyway, point is, the witch needs to eat the organs in a specific order over a five day period. We need to find the connection between the victims fast, before the witch kills their next target."

Dean took a break from talking to take a swig from the whiskey he had stowed under the table. He caught Henricksen's sidelong glance, and held the bottle out invitingly.

"I'm good," Henricksen declined. "You always drink on the job?"

"Not usually," Dean said defensively. "I didn't roll into town thinking we were going to need to move so fast."

"So what, you usually take your time on monster hunts?"

"Well no, but Sam said you were hunting a skinwalker," Dean shrugged. "A heart'll hold a skinwalker a while, so I figured... yeah."

"So, speaking of Sam. Something happen to break up the party the two of you had going?" Henricksen prodded as he etched symbols into a bullet.

"Nah," Dean said, too quickly, too dismissively. Henricksen didn't need to be a crack detective to know he was lying. "We just... you know. Different cases, different states... multi tasking. You know how it is. So many monsters, so little time. So few, uh... people. Manpower. Yeah."

"Divide and conquer."

"Yeah! Exactly."

"Uh-huh. Wow, now I really wish I would have believed you back when you were my suspect," Henricksen sighed. "If I'd have known how bad of a liar you are, I would have been able to tell your shapeshifter story wasn't actually bullshit... saved myself a lot of long hours hunting your ass."

"Excuse me?" Dean sputtered.

"Divide and conquer is one thing when you've got two partners trying to crack the same case fast," Henricksen said insightfully. "But I've never heard of partners splitting up to go after different bad guys. You don't want to talk about what happened with Sam? Fine. But this..."

Henricksen tapped the whiskey bottle, clicking the tip of his knife against the glass.

"...is a hell of a lot less than professional. Get your head in the game, Winchester," Henricksen scolded him. "For my sake, and the sake this witch's next target."

Dean pursed his lips, but he had to admit that Henricksen was right.

"Fine. Yeah, ok. I'm dry 'til we gank this bitch," he promised.

"So, how do we figure out who the witch is gonna go after next?" Henricksen asked, back to business.

"Police have any leads for you?" Dean asked.

"No. As far as the cops could tell, the victims had nothing in common," Henricksen sighed. "If there's a pattern, it hasn't emerged yet."

Dean set his jaw and went back to carving.

"After we get through these, let's head out," he decided. "You know where the crime scenes are?"

"Yeah. You thinking of going over there and contaminating them?" Henricksen asked.

"Well, the cops already had their turn," Dean replied. "They didn't find anything because they didn't know what to look for. We might have better luck."

"If you say so."

Alice exhaled in relief, smoke filling the air around her as she headed back to the motel. Skin slid slowly down her cheek, finally falling to the ground with a gooey splat. She stepped over it and kept going as her body healed itself, mending cuts and bruises acquired during a bar fight she'd started so she could take her frustrations out on someone she would never have to see again. She would have preferred to go hunting, but the nearest lead she had on a case was up in pennsylvania. With Allison on her ass, there was no chance she would get up there in time to do anything about it.

"Screw you, Allison," she muttered to herself. She'd been gone for hours and darkness was starting to fall. Behind her lay the setting sun, casting her shadow long and pitch black ahead of her. Truth be told, the fight hadn't made Alice feel any better. It didn't solve anything. It was just random, unconstructive rage, unwarranted destruction. The exact kind of thing Alice had been trying so hard to avoid for the past month and a half.

She took another drag of her cigarette and kicked a can hard, sending it clattering down the sidewalk ahead of her. Ironically, Allison, with all her good intentions, was bringing out the worst in her little sister at a time when Alice was desperately struggling to be the best she could.

As Alice approached the motel, her thoughts were pulled away from her issues with Allison. Alarm filled her as she turned a corner and spotted a small crowd gathered in the motel parking lot.

"Shit!"

Alice backtracked quickly, ducking back around the corner and flattening herself against the wall. She peeked out cautiously, her suspicions confirmed as she counted heads and realized that all these people were assembled outside their room. They murmured among themselves, but Alice was too far away to hear what was being said. She glimpsed a few black eyes in the crowd. Her mind and heart raced, panic filling her as she struggled to think of a way to get Allison out of the room, warn her, anything...

"I knew I should have stayed with Loki!" she groaned aloud.

"Why, sick of me already?"

Allison's voice made Alice jump. She whipped around to see her sister standing at her side.

"Allison! How-"

"Talk walking. I made a run to the store," Allison explained quickly, pulling Alice with her as she jogged away from the motel, leaving the crowd of demons behind them. "Came back, found the troops lining up outside our room. Why weren't you answering your phone?!"

"I didn't hear it ringing," Alice said, searching her pockets and realizing it was missing. She must have dropped it during the fight back at the bar. "Wait, it's gone. I lost it."

Allison jumped into the car and Alice followed suit. Allison took them around the block, well out of the way of the demons still flocking to the motel.

"How did they find us?" Alice asked. "And what were they waiting for?"

"How beats the hell out of me," Allison said, glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure they weren't being followed. "I heard them talking while I was waiting for you to show up though. Loki may have been a lying, manipulative jackass, but I gotta say, he really did a number on demonic morale. Didn't seem like anyone was eager to be the first one into the room."

"Oh, you have no idea," came a voice from the backseat. "I have never had so much trouble rounding up a group of demons to sic on a hunter before."

"SHIT!"

"CRAP!"

Both Smiths cursed out loud as they realized there was a man sitting in the backseat. Alice glanced back and recognized him. Crowley's appearance was a most unpleasant surprise, to say the least.

"DEMON! DITCH RIGHT, DITCH RIGHT!" she shrieked. The phrase was actually a maneuver their grandmother had taught them. She reached around her seat and pulled the door handle while Allison turned the car hard to the right. Wheels screeched as they burned rubber and Crowley shouted in alarm as he was thrown from the vehicle. He hit the ground and rolled a few times. Allison wrenched the car back around, the tires squealing in protest as they sped away. Alice wrestled the door shut, alive with adrenaline as they sped through the city streets, honks and shouts coming from all around as they hauled ass through stop lights and whipped frantically around corners.

"You didn't ward the car?!" Alice demanded.

"Of course I warded the car!" Allison snapped back.

"Then how the hell did a demon-"

"I'm a little busy right now, Alice!"

"I'll admit, I didn't see that one coming."

Crowley's voice from the backseat made Alice flinch. He leaned forward to poke his head between her and Allison as they both gasped in shock at his reappearance.

"Guess it's my fault for forgetting my seat belt," he went on.

"DITCH SWITCH!" Alice screamed, feinting for the door behind her.

"Oh no you don't," Crowley scowled.

Abruptly, Alice found herself in the back seat. With a jolt of horror, she saw Crowley in the front passenger seat. He'd swapped places with her.

Meanwhile, Allison, unaware of the switch, carried out the plan Alice had shouted at her. She let the wheel go long enough to open the door behind the driver's seat, then jerked hard to the left. Alice flew toward the open door with a helpless shriek, hitting the blacktop hard and bouncing along the pavement as the other cars on the road braked hard, skidding and screeching as they swerved to avoid Allison's car and the body in the road.

Allison pulled the car back under control and sped away, only to realize a split second later that something was wrong. She spotted her sister in the rearview mirror and whipped her head around to lock eyes with her new passenger.

"Hello again Smith," Crowley greeted her with a smile. "How long has it been? More than fifteen years by now, isn't it? My, my, doll, your contract really is quite overdue."

Allison braked as hard as humanly possible. Her seat belt caught her, but Crowley was thrown forward from the force of the impact. He hit the windshield hard enough to crack it, cursing loudly as he bounced back into his seat. Allison had the wind knocked clean out of her, but she was otherwise alright.

"Damn it, Smith! Whoever gave you a license is a menace to society!" Crowley yelled.

Allison accelerated and braked abruptly again, tossing Crowley forward a second time.

"Smith!"

She did it a third time.

"That's IT!"

Crowley roared with rage and before Allison had another chance to smash his face on her windshield, she found herself stumbling in the middle of the road. A few dozen feet back, she could see Alice dragging herself to her feet, bruised and bloodied, but healing quickly. Allison started to jog toward her, but she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

"Bloody hell, Smith! I'm just here to talk!" Crowley growled, sounding more exasperated than anything.

"Talk?" Allison asked, jerking away from him and reaching into her pocket, searching for a flask, a hex bag, any weapon that could help her as her blood ran cold in her veins. Had hell finally caught up with her after all this time? Was Crowley finally here to collect the soul she'd promised him so long ago in exchange for a witch's power?

"Yes, talk! I've got an offer for you and your sister."

Allison glanced over her shoulder to see Alice jogging toward them with a limp and a grimace.

"Unless you're offering to call off the demons, we've got nothing to say to you," Allison told him with narrowed eyes.

"I can't call them off. They don't work for me. I was hoping you and your sister could help me change that," Crowley explained.

"What?"

"I'm about to make you Smiths the offer of a lifetime," Crowley smirked, a wicked twinkle in his eye.

"Allison!"

Alice finally caught up to them, flask in hand. She pulled her arm back, preparing to douse the demon before them in holy water. Allison caught her wrist, however, stopping her.

"Allison, what-"

"Hang on a minute!" Allison snapped. She turned back to Crowley with a scowl. "Talk fast."

"Two get out of jail free cards," Crowley said enticingly. "Allison, you sold your soul at my crossroads a decade and a half ago. Alice... well, let's face it, you're just a bad person. Your soul is as forfeit as they come. Not to mention you ran out on a deal you made with Lilith. At this point... well, let's just say that you've both made your way into hell's top ten most wanted."

"If you have a point, you better get to it fast," Alice said, brandishing the holy water threateningly.

"Hell's in a very delicate place right now," Crowley went on, seemingly unconcerned by the flask. "The balance of power is more fragile than it's been in centuries. With the right push, the whole tower could topple. And you two stand to benefit greatly from a little downstairs restructuring."

"Restructuring?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that. The important thing is, you two can't run forever. Eventually, Lilith's going to catch up with you. Unless..."

"Unless what?" Alice demanded.

"Unless Lilith's not around to keep chasing us," Allison realized, beginning to get an inkling of what Crowley wanted from them.

"Bingo. Bright girl."

"This is bullshit!" Alice hissed. She flung the water at Crowley, who dodged back quickly, scowling as the water barely missed him.

"Watch it! This is a custom suit!" he snapped.

"Alice, wait!"

"Allison, hit this guy with a hex so we can get the hell out of dodge before the rest of his friends catch up with us!" Alice yelled.

"Alice!"

"He's just stalling us! It's a trick!"

"Oh, for the love of..."

With a weary sigh, Crowley snapped and the scene changed around them suddenly. The three of them stood at a dirt crossroads, fields of wheat stretching out in all directions, waving lazily in the light country breeze.

"There. Satisfied, Smith?" Crowley demanded of Alice.

The sudden transportation gave her pause. She was forced to reconsider her earlier words.

"What the..."

"I'm not a trickster, darling," Crowley assured her. "Just a business man. I want to make a deal. Nothing more."

"You mean you want us to kill Lilith for you," Allison said, placing her hands on her hips.

"You say it like it's such a one-sided transaction," Crowley tsked. "Once Lilith is gone, her army will fall apart. Hell will descend into chaos. Anything could happen in that aftermath... a few contracts could slip through the cracks... an exemption could be made for a damned soul..."

Finally, Alice caught onto what he was hinting at. Her heart stopped and her breath caught as she realized he was dangling the thing she wanted more than life itself in front of her. She swallowed her excitement, forced her breathing to steady and fixed her expression into a scowl.

"You're saying you'll get hell off our asses?"

"Subtlety's not your strong suit, is it?" Crowley sighed.

"Subtlety's for spying and flirting," Alice shot back. "You want to make a deal with us? Get ready to have details, motherfucker. On paper."

"So I take it you're interested?" Crowley ventured.

"Alice."

Allison beckoned her sister. They turned their backs to Crowley and Allison started signing.

We can't do this, she said with her hands.

Why not? Alice demanded.

Are you kidding me? He's a demon!

He could be the devil incarnate. I can't walk away from an offer like this!

He knows that. He's playing to our weaknesses, Allison pointed out.

So let him. We'll stay a step ahead of him and come out on top.

You can't seriously think we're gonna outsmart a demon who's been in charge of the crossroads for centuries!

Why not? Anyway, we might not need to. Sounds to me like he's planning a power grab after we knock Lilith off. He'll be too busy to worry about double-crossing us.

We don't know that!

"Allison."

Alice spoke aloud, grabbing her sister by the shoulders and locking eyes with her intensely.

"This is the break I've been waiting for," she said, voice soft but resolute. "If we play our cards right this time, this is salvation. Not just for me. For both of us."

"I made my decision when I sold my soul," Allison said, foolishly, stubbornly unswayed. "I knew what I was getting myself into."

To Allison's surprise, Alice pulled her into a crushing embrace.

"Allison. Allison. Oh, Allison," she sighed into her sister's ear. "Take it from someone who's been through it. Hell..."

Alice laughed and the sound chilled Allison to the bone. It sounded like insanity distilled and concentrated, poured into one short, potent, knowing cackle.

"... isn't the place you want to end up."

"I could take it," Allison insisted, her voice breaking as her resolve began to crumble in the face of her sister's mania.

Alice pulled back from her sister, holding her gaze with burning intensity as she went back to signing, keeping her words safe and secret from the demon who watched them from a few feet away.

Know this, sister. I love you. I love you more than I loved grandma. I love you more than I loved Dean Winchester.

Allison was touched, if somewhat taken aback by Alice's words. Still, Alice wasn't done.

But if I thought it would keep me out of hell, I would kill you right here and now. I would rip your heart out. I would send you to hell if it meant I didn't have to go.

Allison flinched back, caught completely off guard by the menacing statement. Alice's eyes were cold and hard as stone. Allison searched them, but she found no lie, no compromise. She shuddered, a wave of horror washing over her as she realized her sister was deathly serious, utterly sincere. She felt sick to her stomach as, for the first time, she managed to grasp an iota of what hell meant.

"You... you really mean that," Allison gasped. It wasn't a question. Still, Alice nodded slowly.

She wasn't proud of it, but she was honest enough with herself to admit it.

Allison swallowed hard and turned back to Crowley.

"Like Alice said. We're gonna need it in writing," she said, doing her best to sound adamant after the shock of her sister's dire warning.

"Of course," Crowley purred, sickeningly pleased with himself. He produced a scroll and a quill, at which Alice rolled her eyes.

"No fine print," she said. "I don't wanna see any contingencies, sub-clauses, paragraph b23, any of that slimy crossroads ass-fuck bullshit. Clear language, simple terms."

"Short and sweet. So be it."

He tapped the scroll and it shrank to half it's original size. Still, it managed to be an intimidating document. Alice narrowed her eyes at him.

"Walk us through the broad strokes. Then we're reading that moldy thing. Every. Damn. Word."

"Well then, I suppose we'll be here a while," Crowley sighed heavily. "Broad strokes, broad strokes... you kill Lilith, you don't go to hell. I take the bounties off your heads, I'll even put you on the no-fly list. You won't need to worry about being sent to hell- oh no, you'll be bounced at the entrance if you so much as get too close."

Alice was practically salivating. Allison could almost see stars in her little sister's eyes. Still, the arrangement didn't sit right with her. The enormity of the task they were being asked to undertake...

"You say kill Lilith like it's gonna be a walk in the park," Allison scowled. "As if hunters haven't been trying to do in hell's head honcho since the dawn of time. How the hell do you expect us to swing something like this?"

"You know, I'm glad you asked," Crowley said. He produced a mahogany box and held it out for their consideration. "It just so happens, I have an ace in the hole. Been saving it for a rainy day and what do you know, the forecast has us expecting showers."

Alice took the box warily. She flipped the latch and peeked inside. Her frown deepened when she saw its contents.

"A gun?" she asked, showing Allison.

"Not just any gun," Crowley assured her. "This is the gun. I'm sure you two are familiar with the legend of Samuel Colt."

"Familiar with the legend? I'm familiar with the recoil," Allison shot back. She picked the gun up, remembering the last time she'd held it. Ruby had been controlling her then, 'helping' Bobby Singer as he toiled to reverse engineer its design.

"You've used this thing before?" Alice asked, awe creeping into her tone.

"It was complicated," Allison said.

"Very good. Then I assume you know where to go for the ammunition?" Crowley asked.

Allison nodded, putting the gun back in its case. Her heart raced and she met Alice's eyes. In under a minute, this had gone from being an impossible suicide plan to something that they might be able to feasibly pull off.

"Ok then," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Are you gonna let us read that contract over, or not?"