September 18th, 2008
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
Four months. Four whole months Alex spent alone with Bobby. Everyday she would go out and practice with her gun. She spent hours in Bobby's study, reading whatever she found interesting. She even picked up a bit of Latin and Greek. When she wasn't reading or writing, Bobby taught her how to fight. Alex was strong, and quick to learn. They heard nothing from Sam; his phone would ring, but he would never answer. Other hunters would often swing by, though. Alex recognized some of them: Garth, Rufus, and Walt. Others she didn't. She let Bobby take care of those ones.
...
September 18th. Bobby couldn't figure out why Alex was so excited. "Is it your birthday?" he asked. Alex shook her head. "Anniversary?"
Alex laughed. "Of course not."
"Well something's up." Bobby let out a small smile. He and Alex had grown close over the past few months.
"Yes, something's up." Alex couldn't stop smiling. She wanted to tell Bobby about Dean so bad, but she knew she couldn't. She glanced at the clock. It was still the morning.
"So what is it?"
"I can't tell you."
"Something to do with the show?" Bobby guessed. Alex said nothing, but kept smiling. "So that's a yes? Something to do with Sam?"
"I can't tell you." Alex tried to suppress her smile. "But it's big."
Bobby let out a grunt. "Whatever you say." He turned to the fridge, and Alex left the kitchen. She went up to her room, eyes dancing over to her open, and still mostly empty, closet. Even though she had boughten some things when it became obvious she wasn't leaving, she still mostly wore Dean's old clothes. Today, she had put on one of her two pairs of faded jeans and a black shirt. She glanced out the window. Changing her mind, she grabbed her .45 caliber handgun and ran back downstairs. The phone rang. Bobby answered it. "Hello." Pause. "Who is this?" Suddenly Bobby hung up.
"Who was it?"
"Some jackass claiming to be Dean." Grief flashed in Bobby's eyes for a quick moment. The phone rang again. Alex opened the back door and stepped outside. The September morning air was chill, and Alex hurried back inside with a shiver. "Call one more time and I'll kill you!" Bobby was yelling. Alex quickly grabbed Dean's leather jacket off the hook on the wall. It was a pretty big, but Alex liked it. She pulled it on and stepped back outside. After carefully placing her gun in her back pocket, she pulled her hands up into the jacket sleeves.
"Cas?" she asked aloud. "You around yet?" No answer. "Whatever. I'll see you later, okay?" Still no reply. Alex was in too good a mood to care. "I'm probably talking to myself. No biggie," she joked to no one in particular. "Oh, and by the way, Cas? Thank you."
Alex wound her way through the old, broken cars. She climbed up on her favorite car, a 1965 Chevrolet Chevelle. She had spent many hours laying on the hood, looking up into the sky. Bobby had agreed to let her have it, and she had spent much of her spare time working on it. It had been hard work, but she was proud. Bobby had helped her with most of the technical stuff, but Alex had insisted on doing the work.
She pulled the gun out of her back pocket, fingers tightening over the familiar shape. She popped the magazine out, and then pushed it back in. It clicked. She did it several more times, lost in her own thoughts. She ran her finger across the wooden grips. The gun was a gift from Bobby, a semi-automatic Colt 1911. It was old, but worked like a charm.
Alex rolled off the car. She put the gun back in her waistband, and ambled off to the woods behind Bobby's salvage yard. She jumped over the wooden fence and sat down under a large tree. From there she could see the road that lead to the salvage yard. She pulled out her pocket knife, opened the largest blade and flicked her wrist, sending it flying at a nearby tree. It stuck in the trunk with a twang. The sound of an approaching car caught Alex's attention and she glanced towards the road. A black sedan drove by. Alex sighed and retrieved her knife. She figured it would take Dean eight or so hours to get here. So she had eight hours to kill.
...
The next few hours ticked by very slowly. Alex paced through the house, unable to settle down. "You sure you're okay?" Bobby had finally asked. After that, Alex tried to avoid him. She tried her hardest to relax. However, at 4:00, she couldn't take it anymore. She put down her book and walked out of the house. She grabbed a few beer bottles out of a box and lined them up on the hood of a car. She then took several paces back, pulled her gun out of her back pocket, flicked off the safety, and fired off three shots. The bottles shattered, one after another.
"Hey!" Bobby stuck his head out of the house. "Knock it off! I was saving those!"
Alex groaned and rolled her eyes.
"If you're so bored, go work on your car," Bobby advised. "You still need to finish up the engine."
"Fine." Alex cleared her gun and put it back in her waistband. She ran over to where the Chevelle had been parked near the workshop. She took off Dean's jacket and threw it over the large Craftsmen tool cabinet before grabbing a dirty white t-shirt off of the workbench and, with a quick glance around, took off her black shirt and slipped on the white one. She propped open the hood and grabbed a pair of needle nose pliers. She turned back to the car.
Suddenly she frowned. Bobby had lied. She had finished the engine last week. Alex stepped back and studied organized mess of metal and tubes. She wiped her somehow already-dirty hands on her white shirt, leaving fresh oil stains. She closed the hood and walked around to the trunk. A month or so back she had installed a false bottom like the one in the Impala; she figured it might be useful one day. It still looked like a normal trunk; there was plenty of room for several bags. However, like the Impala, the part of the bottom could be lifted up to reveal extra room underneath for what would most likely be for storing 'hunting' equipment.
The sound of a car made Alex look up. She grabbed Dean's jacket, threw it on, and ran into the house. She found Bobby sitting at his desk, reading some old book. After a few seconds, there was a knock on the door. Bobby got up to answer it, and Alex followed. Bobby opened the door and stared blankly.
Dean Winchester looked up. For several seconds no one said anything. Finally Dean spoke. "Surprise." He let out a small smile.
Alex stepped forward, but Bobby held her back. "I don't . . ." he breathed.
"Yeah, me either. But here I am." Dean stepped through the door. Bobby's hand went to a silver knife sitting nearby. He swung it at Dean, who barely ducked in time.
"Bobby, stop!" Alex yelled. Dean struggled with Bobby, desperate to save his own life.
Bobby shoved him into the kitchen. "Get behind me," he growled to Alex.
"Bobby, it's me!" Dean promised.
"My ass." Bobby advanced, knife held tightly.
Dean stumbled to stay on his feet, his hands flying up in defense. "Y-Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after your wife got possessed." Dean frantically searched for facts. "You're about the closest thing I have to family." He met Bobby's gaze. "Bobby, it's me."
Bobby stopped. He stepped forward in disbelief and tentatively put his hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean visibly relaxed. Alex saw Bobby tighten his grip on the knife. "Dean look out!" she yelled. Bobby swung the knife again, and Dean reeled backwards, once again struggling for the knife.
"I'm not a shifter," he pleaded.
"Then you're a revenant."
Dean wrenched the knife from Bobby, who stumbled away. He stepped protectively in front of Alex.
"If I was either, could I do this?" Dean asked. He rolled up his sleeve, and slowly made a shallow cut in his forearm. He grimaced, but remained unharmed.
Bobby stared in silence. "Dean?"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you." Dean stepped forward.
Bobby hesitated a second, then gave Dean a large hug. Alex smiled happily.
"It's good to see you, boy." Bobby broke the hug and stepped back.
"Yeah, you too."
"But how did you bust out?" Bobby glanced at Alex, who shook her head.
"I don't know." Dean looked down. "All I know was I woke up in a pine box . . ." He trailed off as he was splashed with holy water. He frowned up at Bobby, who shrugged. "I'm not a demon either, you know." He spit the water onto the ground.
"Sorry. Can't be to careful."
Dean turned to look at Alex. "You still here?"
"Yeah." Alex let out a half smile. "Still here." She handed Dean a clean dish towel. He gratefully took it. Alex hesitated, then suddenly stepped forward, pulling him into a tight hug. She buried her head in his chest.
Dean hugged her back for a second. "Are you going to let go?" he eventually asked.
"This is the second hug you've had in forty years," Alex mumbled against his shirt. "Shut up and take it."
Dean did. When she let go, he turned back to Bobby. "She been here the whole time?"
"Sure. Been quite a bit of help, too." Bobby turned and led the way into the study. "But tell you what. It don't make a lick of sense. You're chest was ribbons, Dean. You're insides were slop. And you've been buried four months. Even if you managed to crawl out of Hell . . ."
"You'd look like a Thriller video reject," Alex finished. Dean turned to look at Alex. She shrugged innocently.
"So what do you remember?" Bobby asked.
"Not much," Dean lied, slinging the dish towel over his shoulder. "I remember being a hellhound's chew toy, then, lights out. Then I come to six feet under." He glanced at Alex, who narrowed her eyes accusingly. Dean turned uncomfortably turned back to Bobby, who remained oblivious.
"By the way, Sam's number isn't working," Dean changed the subject. "He's, he's not . . ."
"No, he's alive, as far as I know."
Dean closed his eyes in relief. He was quiet for a few seconds. "Wait. What do you mean, 'as far as I know'?"
"I haven't seen him in months," Bobby admitted. "One day, he just got up and left."
"You didn't keep an eye on him?" Dean asked sharply. "Bobby!"
"Hey. These last few months haven't been easy. For him or me," Bobby reminded him. "We had to bury you."
"Yeah. Why did you bury me?"
Bobby shrugged. "I wanted you salted and burned, but Sam refused."
"Well, I suppose I can thank him for that," Dean joked dryly.
"He said you would need a body when he got you out somehow," Bobby finished.
"What did he mean?"
"That was all he said. He was quiet. Real quiet. At least afterwards . . ." He glanced at Alex, who flinched visibly. Dean followed his gaze.
"Well?" he asked coldly.
"It wasn't my fault," Alex protested.
"What do you mean?" He turned to Bobby. "What does she mean?"
"Sam and Alex didn't get along to well after you, uh, died," Bobby explained. "Sam blamed Alex for your death, and . . ." He trailed off.
"It wasn't my fault," Alex repeated stubbornly.
"I caught Sam about to beat the crap of Alex," Bobby added. "He probably would have killed her if I hadn't stopped him."
Dean said nothing. "So, she's been with you for the past four months?" he finally asked.
"Yup. Like I said, she's been quite a bit of help."
Dean studied Alex. "Is that my jacket?" he finally asked. Alex nodded. "And my shirt?"
"Probably." Alex looked down at the stained white T.
"Bobby," Dean said, exasperated.
"What?" Bobby asked. "It ain't like you were using them."
Dean crossed his arms and turned back to Alex. "You've been working on a car?" he deduced.
"Yeah."
"Baby?"
"No. Sam took your 'Baby'." Alex crossed her arms as well. "I've been working on a 1965 Chevelle Bobby had."
"Does it run?"
Alex shot a glance towards Bobby, who nodded. "It should. Why?"
"'Cause Sam got me out alright. But whatever it was, it was bad mojo." He let out a deep breath. "You should have seen the gravesite. Like a nuke went off. And then there was this force, this presence that blew past me at this Phillip joint."
Alex nodded understandingly. Dean turned to Bobby. "And then there was this." He took off his dirty jacket and rolled up the left sleeve on his t-shirt, revealing a large hand-print shaped welt on his shoulder.
Bobby stood up. "What in the hell?" he asked.
"It's like a demon yanked me out of Hell. Or rode me out."
Alex snorted. "Something like that." They ignored her.
"But why?"
Dean rolled his sleeve back down. "To hold up their part of the bargain," he muttered darkly.
"You think Sam made a deal?"
"It's what I would have done," Dean said seriously. He looked up to meet Bobby's gaze.
Alex broke the silence. "Well, why don't you go change into some clean clothes, and we'll find Sam. Deal?"
Both Dean and Bobby agreed.
"I got clothes upstairs," Bobby told him.
"Yeah, well I have Dean's clothes in my room."
Dean blinked, and then exited the room. Alex listened to his footsteps go up the stairs.
"So this is why you were so excited?" Bobby asked.
"Yeah. And it was pretty exciting, no?"
"You could have told me," Bobby said.
"Ay, but where would be the fun in that?" Alex joked. Bobby remained serious. She sighed. "Bobby, we've been over this. There will be times when I can't tell you what's going to happen. No matter how much I want to."
"I know," Bobby agreed. "But it's hard."
"Yeah. Believe me, it's worse on this end." Alex pulled her Colt 1911 out of her jeans, and walked into the kitchen, placing it on the kitchen table. She opened the fridge and grabbed a coke, and, after a second's thought, two beers. "Here." She tossed one to Bobby, who caught it. Dean rejoined them, and Alex handed him the second one.
"For me?"
Alex nodded.
Dean glanced at the gun on the table. "This yours?" he asked.
"Yeah." Alex left, leaving Bobby and Dean to locate Sam. She ran upstairs to her room. She grabbed her duffle bag out of the corner and proceeded to pack several pairs of clothes, figuring they would be leaving soon. She made her way downstairs, grabbed her gun off the table, and made her way into the study. Dean and Bobby stopped talking.
"So, we off?" she asked, ignoring the awkward silence.
Dean looked up. "Uh, yeah. Sure." He stood up abruptly. "Let me, um, go grab some stuff." He hurried upstairs.
"What's biting him?" Alex muttered under her breath. "You guys find Sam?" she asked Bobby.
"Yeah, he's, uh, in Pontiac, Illinois," Bobby stumbled.
Alex rolled her eyes. It was obvious they were hiding something, but she decided to ignore it. She heard footsteps behind her, and turned around to see Dean standing there, beer in hand. "Me and Bobby will be off, then." He slung his bag over his shoulder and turned to leave.
"Wait. What about me?" Alex protested. "Bobby!"
The older man shrugged. "Sorry girl. I tried to talk you into it."
"Yeah. But we're in a hurry. I can't have you dragging us down."
Alex crossed her arms. "I am not staying behind," she insisted.
"Well, you're not coming with either," Dean said in his end-of-conversation voice.
Alex didn't back down. "Do you want to find the thing that pulled you out of Hell or not?"
Dean frowned. "I can find a demon on my own, thank you." He began to walk away.
"It's not a demon."
Dean stopped. "Then what is it?" he asked curiously.
"Can I come?"
"No."
"What if I told you it's something like you've never met before?"
Dean let out a small laugh. "Try me."
"I'll give you a hint. It can kill a demon with one touch."
That caught Dean's attention. He turned back to Alex. "The same . . ?"
Alex nodded. Dean paused, and her hopes rose.
"Fine." Dean threw his hands in the air. "You can come." Bobby let out a chuckle. "Shut up, Bobby."
...
Alex sat in the passenger seat of the car. Dean drove in frustrated silence. He had tried to find good music, but all of his cassettes were in his Impala. He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel and glanced at the passenger. Alex stared out the window, feeling his gaze on her. She knew Dean still wasn't happy that he had allowed her to come along, but was obviously in too much of a hurry to argue. "So, what have you been up to?" Dean asked quietly.
"Nothing big." Alex continued to watch the trees speed by. "I fixed up this car, for starters. Bobby taught me how to fight, and gave me this gun." She gestured to the Colt on her lap. "I got a job at one of the shops in town. Earned some money. It was mostly quiet after you died. I avoided Sam after he tried to murder me. Then one day he just got up and left." She grew quiet. "I'm sorry, Dean. You have no idea how much I wished I could have saved you."
"It doesn't matter," Dean promised. "I'm back now."
"But you remember," Alex pointed out. "That's why I'm sorry."
Dean closed his eyes before focusing back on the road. "It's too late now. And it's not that bad."
Alex didn't argue, but she knew he was lying. Dean turned on the radio and turned up the music. Alex sighed and reached into her duffle bag. She pulled out a cheap mp3 player and a set of headphones. "What's that for?" Dean asked.
"Like I said, I earned some money. I figured it'd be a good investment if I were ever in the car with your music." Alex put the headphones over her ears, brushing her dirty blonde hair out of the way.
"My music isn't bad!" Dean protested.
"No, not the first or second time around, but after eight or so hours, it gets old." Alex turned up the volume on her own music, drowning out Dean's protests.
...
Pontiac, Illinois
They arrived in Pontiac, Illinois late that night. After a few quick manipulative questions of the woman at the front desk, Alex found herself standing outside room 207 of the Astoria Motel. Dean knocked soundly on the wooden door. After a second, it opened, and they found themselves face to face with a young woman wearing only a tank top and underwear. Alex raised an eyebrow, feeling herself blush slightly.
"So where is it?" the woman asked.
Dean glanced at Bobby. "Where's what?"
"The pizza . . . that takes two guys to deliver?" She looked at Alex. "And a teenager?"
"Uh, I think we got the wrong room." Dean and Bobby started to walk away, leaving Alex standing at the door alone. She let out a forced smile at the girl, starting to awkwardly back away. Seeing Alex wasn't following as quickly, Dean and Bobby turned back around in time to see Sam step in front of the door.
"Hey, is . . ." He trailed off as he saw Alex. His eyes hardened, then filled with shock as he saw Bobby and Dean. He froze, staring at his brother.
Dean moved to the door. "Heya Sammy," he said quietly, his voiced heavy with emotion. He stepped forward into the room. Sam looked shocked, eyes flickering over to Bobby. Then he suddenly lunged at Dean, wielding a silver knife. Dean barely deflected his blow, and Bobby rushed forward, wrenching the knife out of Sam's grasp.
"Who are you?" Sam yelled, struggling against Bobby's grip.
"Like you didn't do this?" Dean yelled back.
"Do what?"
"It's really him," Bobby insisted. "I've been through this all already, it's really him."
Sam ceased his struggling. "What . . ." he breathed.
"I know. I look fantastic, huh?" Dean let out a half smile. Alex quietly stepped into the room. She watched as Sam hesitantly stepped forward, and then pulled his brother into a hug. He held on for several seconds, on the verge of tears.
The young woman stepped forward. "So, are you guys like, together?"
Alex coughed, trying to cover a snort of laughter. Dean turned to the woman, eyebrows knitted in confusion.
Sam stepped back. "What? No, no. T-This is my brother."
"Uh, I got it, I guess." She looked from Dean to Sam to Bobby. "I should probably go."
"Yeah, yeah. That's probably a good idea. Sorry." The young woman disappeared through a door which Alex presumed to be the bathroom. A minute later she reappeared, dressed in shorts and a plaid blue button-down. Sam led her over to the door.
"Well, call me," she said hopefully, stepping out into the hallway.
"Yeah, sure thing, Kathy," Sam said distractedly, barely taking his eyes off of his brother.
"Kristy," she corrected him, slightly disappointed. Alex coughed again.
"Right." Sam closed the door and turned back to Dean. He sat down in a chair, motioning for them to sit as well.
Dean crossed his arms. "So, what did it cost?"
"The girl?" Sam asked. He chuckled. "I don't pay, Dean." Alex sat down on the couch as he spoke. Sam glared at her, and she slowly stood back up.
Dean's frown deepened, unamused. "That's not funny Sam. To bring me back. What'd it cost? Your soul, or something worse?"
"You think I made a deal?" Sam looked from Dean to Bobby.
"That's exactly what we think."
"Well I didn't," Sam laughed nervously.
"Don't lie to me." Dean glared at his brother.
"I'm not lying."
"So what now?" Dean approached Sam menacingly. "I'm off the hook and you're on, is that it? You're some demon's bitch-boy? I don't want to be saved like this."
Sam stood up angrily. "Look Dean, I wish I had done it, alright?"
Dean grabbed his brother by the front of his shirt. "There's not other way this could have happened," he spat. "Right, Alex?" He turned to the teenager. "It was Sam, wasn't it?"
Alex shook her head. "Sorry. I'm, uh, I'm gonna have to side with Sammy on this one. He tried, but what demon would make a deal with him?" She looked both brothers up and down. "And what demon would want to pull Dean Winchester out of hell?"
"She's right." Sam tore himself from Dean's grasp. "I tried everything. Hell, I even tried opening the Devil's gate. No demon wanted to deal with me. You were rotting in Hell for months, Dean. And I couldn't save you." Sam's voice was edged with pain. "I'm sorry it wasn't me, alright? I'm sorry."
Dean stepped back, conflict battling in his eyes. "It's okay, Sammy. You don't have to apologize," he said after several long seconds. "I believe you."
"Don't get me wrong. I'm gladdened that Sam's soul is still intact," Bobby pointed out, "but that does raise a sticky question."
"If he didn't pull me out, then who did?" Dean finished. The room fell silent. Sam excused himself and walked over to the fridge. He pulled out three beers, and brought them back over. Bobby and Dean sat down on the couch, and Sam handed them one each. He took the third one for himself and sat down in the chair. Alex sat down on the floor against the wall, carefully observing the three men.
Dean was the first to break the silence. "So what exactly were you doing around here if you weren't digging up my grave?"
"Well, once I figured I couldn't save you, I started hunting down Lilith, you know, trying to get some payback." Sam cracked open his beer.
"All by yourself. Who do you think you are, your old man?" Bobby said angrily.
Alex saw Dean frown, and he stood up, walking over to where Sam was sitting.
"Uh, yeah, sorry Bobby. I should have called. I was pretty messed up," Sam apologized.
Dean held up a pink bra. "Yeah. I really feel your pain," he scoffed.
Sam studied his beer, blushing slightly. "Anyways, I was checking these demons out in Tennessee, and out of nowhere they took a hard left, booked it up here."
Dean sat down next to Sam, bra forgotten. "When?"
"Yesterday morning."
"When I busted out," Dean said quietly, looking over at Bobby.
"What, you think those demons are here 'cause of you?" the hunter asked, meeting Dean's gaze.
"But why?" Sam added.
"I don't know. Some badass demon drags me out and now this? It's got to be connected somehow." He took a swig of his beer.
Alex rolled her eyes. No matter how many times she said it wasn't a demon, they didn't listen. It didn't matter. They'd figure it out soon enough on their own.
"How you feeling anyways?" Bobby's voice brought Alex back to the scene in front of her.
"Well, I'm a little hungry," Dean admitted. Alex stomach growled at the same instant, making her realize she was hungry as well. She stood up and walked over to the fridge.
"No, I mean do you feel like yourself? Anything strange, or different?" Bobby persisted.
"Like demonic?" Dean asked dryly. "Bobby, how many times do I have to prove I'm me?"
The doorbell rang. Alex ran over to open it. "What's up?"
"Pizza?" A young teenage boy held out a box.
"Oh. Uh, yeah." Alex shoved her fist in her pocket, digging for change. "How much?"
"Ten fifty."
"Uh, okay." She pulled out twelve dollars. "Keep the change." She took the box and closed the door.
"Yeah, well, listen," Bobby was saying as Alex set the pizza down on the ground. She ignored how Sam glared at her. "No demon pulled you out from the goodness of his heart. They've got to have something nasty planned." He glanced at Alex, who shrugged, using a mouthful of pizza as an excuse not to explain anything.
"Well I feel fine," Dean pointed out. He reached over and took a slice for himself.
"Okay look. We've got a pile of questions and no shovel —" Alex raised an eyebrow, not sure how that phrase worked. "— We need help," Sam finished.
"I know a psychic," Bobby ventured. "A few hours from here. Something this big, maybe she's heard something from the other side."
"Hell yeah, it's worth a shot."
"I'll be right back." Bobby pulled out his phone and left the room. Dean stood up to follow, but Sam held him back.
"Wait. You probably want this back." He pulled Dean's amulet off from around his neck and held it out.
Dean smiled. "Thanks." He took it and placed it around his own neck.
"Don't mention it." As Dean walked past, Sam stuck out his hand to stop him. "Hey, Dean, what was it like?"
Dean turned back to his brother. "What, Hell? I don't know," he lied smoothly. "I must have blocked it out. I don't remember a damn thing."
"Well, thank God for that." Sam seemed to believe Dean.
"Yeah." Dean turned and made his way to the bathroom.
Alex stood up. "And how've you been?" she asked Sam politely.
Sam turned to face her. "What the hell?" he exploded.
"What?" Alex took a step back, surprised by the sudden burst of anger.
"Why didn't you say Dean would come back?" Sam slammed Alex up against the wall. "For four months I thought he was dead—"
"Get off of me!" Alex snapped. She tried to shove Sam away, but it was no use. "Dean!"
"Sam!" Dean rushed out of the bathroom and pulled Sam away.
At the same moment Bobby stepped into the room. "The hell?" he exclaimed.
"Honestly," Alex added, stepping away from Sam, smoothing down her shirt to hide her shaking hands. "First you try and kill me because Dean's in Hell. Now you want to kill me because he's back?"
Sam narrowed his eyes at Alex, but said nothing.
"Come on, you two," Bobby said, exasperated. "We ain't going to get anything done if you two keep fighting."
"I'm not fighting with him," Alex insisted. "He's the one who keeps shoving me into walls."
"Did you get a hold of that psychic?" Sam asked Bobby, pointedly turning his back to Alex.
"Yeah." Bobby glanced between Sam and Alex. "If we leave now we can get there in a few hours."
Sam glared at Alex one more time and stormed out of the room. Bobby and Dean exchanged glances and followed him into the parking lot.
"She's about four miles down the interstate," Bobby informed them. "Try and keep up." He stopped in front of his car. "Alex, you better come with me."
"Fine." Alex opened the passenger side door and got in. She watched Sam and Dean get into the Impala in the side mirror. Bobby got into the driver's seat and started the car. He pulled out of the parking lot. They drove in silence for several minutes.
"So what's up with you and Sam?" Bobby finally asked.
Alex shook her head. "I have no idea," she admitted. "I don't want him to be angry with me. And not just because I want to save my ass."
Bobby grunted in agreement. "Well, you two better get it figured out. 'Cause if you don't, one of you has got to go. And I'm pretty sure it won't be Sam."
Alex opened her mouth, but thought better of it. "Well, I'll try my best," she finally said. "But I can't change Sammy's mind."
"Better stop calling him 'Sammy' for starters," Bobby advised.
Alex laughed despite the seriousness in his voice. "We'll see," was all she promised. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching the cars fly by.
...
It was day when Bobby pulled the car into the driveway of a small suburban house. They had stopped sometime in the middle of the night at a cheap motel, and had resumed driving late the next morning.
Dean and Sam joined them at the doorstep. The door slowly opened and a woman stepped into view. She smiled. "Bobby!" she exclaimed, giving him a huge hug. She briefly lifted him off the ground, raising a exchange of looks from Sam and Dean.
"You're a sight for sore eyes," Bobby smiled.
"So, are these the boys?" she asked, glancing Sam and Dean.
"Sam, Dean, this is Pamela Barnes," Bobby began. "They best damn psychic in the state."
"Hey." Dean smiled at her.
"Hi." Sam tried to mimic Dean's smile, but it came out more nervous and awkward.
"Mmm-mmm." Pamela studied Dean appreciatively. "Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back into the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual."
"If you say so," Dean said warily.
"Come in." Pamela stepped aside to let the two brothers in. "And who's this?" she asked, noticing Alex for the first time.
"Alex." Alex stepped forward and held out her hand. Pamela shook it, and Alex was slightly surprised at her strength.
"And how are you involved in all of this?" she asked.
"Well, I kind of accidentally fell into it. Literally," Alex explained. "I fell from the sky onto Dean's car." She decided not to mention the whole I'm-from-a-universe-where-this-is-a-show part.
Pamela nodded. "I see," was all she said. Alex stepped into the house and Pamela shut the door.
"So, you hear anything?" Bobby asked.
"Well, I Ouija'd my way through a dozen spirits. No one seems to know who broke your boy out, or why."
"So what's next?"
"A seance, I think. See if we can see who did this deed."
"I don't think that's a good idea . . ." Alex began.
"You're not gonna . . . summon that damn thing here?" Bobby asked at the same time.
"No, I just want to get a sneak peak at it. Like a crystal ball without a crystal," Pamela explained.
"I'm game." Dean nodded.
Pamela led them farther into the house. She threw a black table cloth over a table, which Alex noticed was covered with a myriad of sigils. Dean and Sam glanced at it warily. Bobby drew the thick curtains together, and the room grew dark. Pamela squatted down in front of a cabinet and opened the bottom drawers, revealing a tattoo across her lower back. It read Jesse Forever.
Dean noticed it immediately, and nudged Sam, motioning towards it. "Who's Jesse?" he asked.
Pamela let out a small laugh. "Well, it wasn't forever."
"His loss."
Alex rolled her eyes at Dean's flirting.
Pamela stood up holding several candles. She turned to face Dean. "Might be your gain." She walked back up to the table.
"Dude, I am so in," Dean whispered to Sam.
Sam smiled as if he couldn't believe what was going on. "She is going to eat you alive," he laughed disbelievingly.
"Hey, I just got out of jail," Dean smiled. "Bring it."
Pamela walked back over to them. "You're invited too, grumpy." She winked at Sam.
"You are not invited," Dean quickly retorted.
Alex glanced at Bobby, who was looking at the three of them, amused. "Get use to it," he said quietly to Alex.
"Don't worry," Alex quipped. "As long as I don't have to watch."
Bobby snorted in laughter.
"If you two are ready," Pamela turned her attention to Bobby and Alex, "we can begin." She sat down at the table and lit the candles. Dean sat on one side of her, Bobby on the other. Alex sat down next to Bobby. Sam reluctantly sat next to Alex, but shifted his chair closer to Dean. Alex rolled her eyes.
"Take each other's hand." Alex took Bobby's hand and held out her other to Sam. He took it lightly, obviously not liking the idea of touching her. Pamela continued, "And I need to touch something our mysterious monster touched." Her right hand disappeared under the table.
Dean jumped. "Whoa. Well, he didn't touch me there."
"My mistake."
Alex caught Sam's eye. She pulled a corner of her lip up into a face of mock disgust and rolled her eyes.
Sam smiled.
Dean pulled up his left sleeve to reveal the brand-like handprint on his shoulder. Sam looked at it, shocked. Pamela put her hand over it. "Okay." She closed her eyes, and everyone else followed her example.
"I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle.
I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle.
I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle."
The television set in the corner flickered on, and the sound of its static filled the room. Alex cracked open an eye.
"I invoke, conjure, and command - Castiel? No sorry Castiel, I don't scare easy."
Alex glanced at Dean, who's gaze flickered over her for a second. "Castiel?"
"Its name. It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back." The table began to shake violently. Sam and Bobby's eyes flew open.
"I conjure and command you, show me your face.
I conjure and command you, show me your face."
"Don't, Pamela," Alex warned quietly.
"Maybe we should stop," Bobby agreed as the table continued to shake.
"I almost got it," the psychic insisted. "I command you, show me your face!"
"Don't do it," Alex repeated, this time louder. "I'm warning you. Don't." Dean, Sam and Bobby stared at Alex, concerned.
"Show me your face now!" Pamela continued.
"Don't," Alex said, forcefully this time. She dropped Sam and Bobby's hand. "Pamela, stop it! Stop it right now! Don't look at him! Please!" The candle flames flared up and the psychic's eyes flew open. She screamed as they burned with a white light. The light faded, and Pamela collapsed, blood seeping out from her closed eyelids. Bobby caught her as she fell from her chair.
"Call 9-1-1," he ordered. Sam scrambled out of the room. Dean knelt down beside Pamela and Bobby.
"Dammit," Alex cursed. She stood behind Bobby. Pamela was conscious, and was now shaking and crying. She opened her blood crusted eyelids revealing black, empty sockets.
"I can't see," she cried. "I can't see. Oh god."
Dean looked up at Bobby, his face frozen in shock. His eyes met Alex's, who stared blankly. Her stomach twisted at the sight, and she could hear Sam calling for an ambulance. He hung up and reentered the room.
"Is she okay?" he asked quietly. He froze when he saw her face.
Alex knelt down beside the sobbing woman. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She looked up at Sam. Their eyes met, and he quickly adverted his gaze. Alex looked back down at the psychic. In the distance they could hear the sirens.
"You three go." Bobby looked up at them. "I'll stay here." Dean and Sam didn't argue. They silently stood up and exited the room. "You too, Alex," Bobby said in his don't-argue-with-me tone.
Alex nodded. "You're going to be okay," she promised Pamela. She stood up and quickly followed after Dean. Outside, she found them talking to the paramedics. She quickly walked over to the Impala. "She's going to be fine," Alex promised as the brothers joined her, watching as they cast worried looks over to the house.
Dean let out a noncommittal grunt and opened the car door. Sam and Alex did the same. He started the car and peeled out into the street.
...
Dean pulled the Impala into a small diner a few miles away. Putting the car into park, he led the way into the dim interior of Jonny Mac's Diner. He sat down at one of the tables with a huff. Sam's phone rang, and he answered it. "It's Bobby," he said, and excused himself. Alex sat down next to Dean as the waiter walked over.
"Can I get you anything?" she asked sweetly.
Alex shook her head, but Dean ordered a slice of pie. Typical, Alex thought to herself. She inhaled through her nose, and immediately stiffened. She knew that smell. It was a bad smell. Sulphur.
Her reaction went unnoticed by the waitress. "Be up in a jiff," she said with a friendly smile.
Sam returned to the table. "What did Bobby say?" Dean asked worriedly.
"Pam's stable. And out of ICU," Sam reported.
"Yeah, and blind. Because of us," Dean hissed, angry at himself. Alex flinched. "It's not your fault," Dean promised her.
"Yeah, it kind of is," Alex retorted. "I knew that was going to happen. I could have stopped it."
"You tried to warn her."
"Tried isn't good enough," Alex shot back. She looked around warily. Apart from the waitress, there was a man behind the counter, cooking something on the stove, and a man sitting on a stool across the room. She forced herself to be calm, turning back to Sam and Dean.
"We still have no clue what we're dealing with," Sam reminded them.
"That's not true," Alex and Dean said in unison.
"No?"
"We got a name." Dean glanced at Alex so make sure she wasn't talking at the same time. "Castiel, or whatever. With the right mumbo-jumbo we could summon him, bring him right to us." Dean put his elbows on the table and leaned in.
"You're crazy. Absolutely not."
"We'll work him over," Dean promised. "I mean, after what he did?"
"Pam took one peek at him and her eyes burned out of her skull," Sam protested, "and you want to have a face to face?"
"You got a better idea?" Dean challenged.
"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do. I followed some demons to town, right?"
"Okay."
"So, we find them. Someone's got to know something about something."
The waitress walked up to them, and with her, the stench of sulphur returned. Alex connected the dots. "Good idea," she said dryly. "I even know where to start." She looked up at the waitress and winked. "Right?"
The waitress blinked, and her eyes went black. The cook and the man at the bar turned around, revealing that they were demons as well. Sam and Dean tensed. "Smart girl." The waitress' eyes went back to normal. "Dean. To hell and back. Aren't you a lucky duck." She spat the last few words.
"That's me." Dean's voice remained unnervingly cool.
"So you get to just stroll out of the pit, huh? Tell me. What makes you so special?"
"I like to think it's because of my perky nipples," Dean joked dryly. "I don't know. Wasn't my doing. I don't know who pulled me out."
"Right. You don't." The waitress didn't seem to buy into it.
"Right," Dean affirmed.
"You know, lying is a sin."
"I'm not lying. But I'd like to find out, if you don't mind enlightening me, Flo . . ."
Alex rolled her eyes at Dean's joke.
"Mind your tone with me, boy," the demon warned. "I'll drag your ass right back to hell myself."
Sam shifted, ready to spring at the demon. Alex shook her head warningly. "She's no threat," she promised matter-of-factly. Sam looked confused.
"She's right," Dean said. "I don't think you would. Or else you would have already. Fact is, you don't know who cut me loose. And you're just as spooked as we are. And you're looking for answers. Maybe it was some turbo-charged spirit. Or, uh, Godzilla." Dean shrugged. "Or some big bad boss demon. I'm guessing at your pay grade they tell you squat. So go ahead. Send me back. But don't come crawling back to me when they show up at your doorstep with some Vaseline and a fire hose."
"I'm going to reach down your throat and rip out your lungs," the waitress threatened. Dean leaned forward, daring her. Sam looked from Dean to the demon, then back to Dean. The demon remained still, glaring at the Winchester.
"That's what I thought." Dean stood up. "Let's go, Sammy." He pulled out a ten dollar bill from his pocket and dropped it on the table. "For the pie." Then he left. The demon stood there, glaring at Sam. Alex shrugged and followed Dean out.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Sam asked when they were safely in the car.
"Good job," Alex said at the same time.
Sam glared at Alex. "He could have died," he snarled. "That was too close."
"Think with that big head of yours," Alex retorted, her patience for him wearing thin. "No demon pulled Dean out. They're just as scared as you are."
"So we're just going to leave them?" Sam asked disbelievingly.
"Yup," Dean decided. "There's three of them, probably more, and there's only one knife between us."
"Dean, I've been killing a lot more demons then that lately."
"Not anymore. The smarter brother's back in town." Dean pulled the car out of the parking lot.
"We've got to take them," Sam argued. "They're dangerous."
"They're scared," Dean corrected. "Like Alex said. We're dealing with a bad mofo here. One job at a time." With that, he cranked up his music.
...
The arrived back at Sam's motel around ten at night. Alex sat down in the chair, listening as Dean and Sam talked and shared a few beers. Within an hour, Dean had passed out on the couch. Alex closed her eyes and attempted to fall asleep. She heard Sam get up quietly, and she frowned, unsure what he was doing. She heard him cross the room and step outside, closing the door behind her. She gave him a few seconds head start, and slowly followed. She watched as Sam got into the Impala and started it up. As he drove by, Alex ducked behind a car. As she watched, she spotted the familiar shape of Bobby's car pull into the parking lot.
At that point Alex knew exactly what happened next. She tore off down the hall and up to room 207. She threw open the door and raised her hands to her ears. Dean lay crumpled on the floor, hands covering his ears as well. A high pitched noise resonated through the room, and the tv was on, running only static. There was a crack of glass, and both Dean and Alex looked up to see the mirror splinter. Dean rolled out of the way barely in time before it fell to the ground, shattering to a million pieces.
"Cas, stop it!" Alex yelled over the noise. "He can't understand you!" She fell the the ground, unable to take the unrelenting pitch. "Dammit, Cas, get a vessel already!"
"Dean!" Bobby rushed into the room, covering his own ears. The noise faded as Bobby helped Dean out of the motel room, Alex following close behind. She helped Bobby get Dean into the passenger seat of the car. Alex got in the back, handing Dean a towel in the back seat. Bobby drove the car quickly away from the motel. Dean wiped blood from his face. "How you doing, kid?" Bobby asked worriedly.
"Aside from the church bells ringing in my head, peachy," Dean replied dryly in an attempt to cover his fear.
"How about you, Alex?" Bobby glanced back at her.
"I'm fine," was all Alex said. She brushed glass out of her hair.
Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He pressed a button, and held it up to his ear. "What are you doing?" he asked after a while. Pause. "In my car?" Only the slightest bit of tension in his voice revealed his anger. "Well, uh, Bobby's back. We're going to grab a beer." Bobby began to protest, but Dean held up a finger. "Done. Catch you later." He hung up.
"Why the hell didn't you tell him?" Bobby asked.
"Because he'd just try and stop us," Dean answered grimly.
"From what?" Alex asked, even though she already knew.
"From summoning this thing." Dean looked over at Bobby's shocked face. "It's time we faced it head on."
"You can't be serious!" Bobby exclaimed, clearly remembering what happened last time they had tried.
"As a heart attack." Dean's face was dead serious. "It's high noon, baby."
"We don't know what it is. It could be a demon. It could be anything."
"That's why we've got to be ready for anything." Dean pulled the demon knife out of his jacket pocket. "We've got a big time magic knife, and an arsenal in the trunk."
"This is a bad idea," Bobby warned in vain.
"Yeah, but what other choice do we have?" Dean asked darkly.
"We could choose life."
Dean shifted in his seat to face the older hunter. "Bobby, whatever this is, it's after me. That much we know, right? I've got no place to hide. I can either get caught with my pants down again, or we could make a stand."
"I'm with Dean," Alex spoke up. When Bobby glared at her, she said, "Remember. If you guys were going to die, I would have gone with Sammy. But I want to see this thing that's been following Dean, okay?"
Bobby gave up. "Fine. I'm in. But I still think we should bring Sam with."
"Sam's better off where he is now," Alex promised darkly. She listened as Bobby and Dean planned their attack. Bobby pulled off the highway and down a dirt road to an abandoned barn. They got out quietly. Alex was handed a duffle bag full of spray paint. She carried it into the empty building.
"We'll put a devil's trap right here," Dean decided. "Alex, you start with that."
Alex nodded and opened the bag, grabbing a white can of spray paint.
...
Within a hour or two they had finished. The walls and floor were packed with symbols and sigils, and Dean had laid out several weapons on the table at the far end of the room. Bobby finished the last trap, and made his way over to where Dean was explaining several of the symbols' uses to Alex. "Hell of an art project you got going there," he commented to Bobby.
"Traps and talisman from every faith on the globe," Bobby answered. "How you doing?"
"Stakes, iron, silver, salt, knife," Dean ran through the list. "I mean, we've pretty much set to catch and kill anything I've ever heard of."
"Right. Because you've probably hunted something this powerful hundreds of times," Alex said sarcastically, examining a silver knife.
"This is still a bad idea." Bobby seemed to agree with Alex.
"Yeah, Bobby. I heard you the first ten times." Dean took the knife away from Alex, who pouted. "At least it won't kill us, right Alex?"
"Yeah. 100% sure. Well 80%. Maybe a little lower." Alex pulled a thoughtful face. Bobby and Dean exchanged a worried look. "I joking," she promised. "We'll be fine."
"Let's hope so. What do you say we ring the dinner bell?"
Bobby nodded reluctantly and made his way over to a different table. He picked up a small bowl and sprinkled some of its contents into the larger bowl on the table. It began to smoke, and he chanted several latin words. The smoke died down, and nothing happened. "You sure it worked?" he asked, looking over at Dean.
"Yeah." Dean looked confused. "Maybe we should wait a while." Alex sighed and sat down on on of the other tables. After a few minutes Bobby and Dean followed her example.
...
Several more minutes passed. Finally Bobby spoke. "You sure you did the ritual right?" he asked. Dean glared at him. "Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?" the eldest hunter muttered. Suddenly, as if on cue, the roof rattled.
"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind." Dean voiced what all three were thinking. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the door burst open, revealing a dark haired man in a trench coat. Alex smiled as she recognized him, but Dean and Bobby jumped off the table, reaching for their rifles. The strange man strolled forward, and as he passed, the lights overhead exploded in a shower of sparks. On an unspoken word Dean and Bobby opened fire. They hit the man straight on; his trench coat tore from the rounds. But it didn't slow him down. They emptied their weapons into his chest, but he still approached. Dean put down the gun and picked up the demon knife. "Who are you?" he growled, holding the weapon behind his back.
"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition." The man spoke in a deep, authoritative voice. Alex grinned as she recognized the line.
"Yeah, thanks for that." Dean lunged forward and sank the knife deep into the man's chest. Nothing happened. The man looked down at it and pulled it out, unconcerned. Dean's jaw hit the ground. He stared incredulously at the man before him. Behind them, Bobby swung an iron crowbar at the man's head. The man blocked it without looking. He tore the weapon out of the hunter's hand and touched him gently on the forehead with two fingers. Bobby crumpled to the ground. The man watched him fall with an almost thoughtful expression on his face. He turned back to Dean, who was staring at Bobby, wide eyed.
"We need to talk, Dean," he said with a look at Alex. "Alone." He approached. Dean knelt down beside Bobby.
"Oh no." Alex jumped off the table. "Don't touch me, angel-boy."
Castiel stopped, and tilted his head. "I need to talk to Dean," he repeated.
"You can't tell him anything I don't already know," Alex pointed out, trying to convince him. She looked over at Dean, who was still kneeling beside the old hunter. "I already know it all. Everything. Remember? I told you."
Castiel said nothing.
"I'll just stand in the corner." Alex let out a broad smile and backed away. "Nice vessel by the way. Jimmy, right? He's cute."
Castiel looked mildly surprised by her knowledge - more emotion than Alex had been expecting from him - but he left her alone. He turned back to Dean, who was taking Bobby's pulse. "Your friend is alive." He sat down on one of the tables and studied the spell book that had been used to summon him.
"Who are you?" Dean turned back to the being in front of him.
"Castiel." The man didn't look up.
"Yeah, I figured that much. I mean what are you?" Dean asked.
"I'm an angel of the Lord." Castiel met Dean's gaze.
Dean gaze faltered, and he looked over at Alex, who shrugged. He stood up. "Get the hell out," he ordered. "There's no such thing."
Castiel stood up as well. "This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith." He took a deep breath, and lightning flashed, blinding Alex for a second. Large shadows of wings unfurled from his shoulders. Then the light faded and the shadows disappeared.
Alex was grinning broadly. Dean, however, was finding it harder to understand what he had just seen. After several seconds, he found his voice. "Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes."
Castiel looked down as if embarrassed. "I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be . . . overwhelming to humans, and so can my true voice." He looked over at Alex. "But you already knew that."
"You mean at the gas station and motel." Dean frowned. "That was you talking?" The angel nodded. Dean looked at Alex. "You knew it was him," he realized. "I heard you yelling at him."
"Yeah. Guilty as charged." Alex flashed him a smile.
"And when exactly were you going to tell us?" Dean's eyes flashed with anger.
"At the right time," Alex shot back. "I know what I'm doing, okay?"
"Yes," Castiel interrupted them. "Actually, it was Alex who is responsible for me pulling you out of Hell."
Dean raised an eyebrow at Alex. "So what? You're the one who made a deal?"
Alex frowned. "I didn't make a deal," she insisted. "I just prayed to him, and he answered me." She glanced over at Castiel. "You could have at least told me."
Castiel didn't respond; in fact, he barely spared her a glance.
Dean blinked, studying Alex. "So you knew he would try and 'talk' to me?"
"That was my mistake." Castiel looked embarrassed once again. "Some people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong."
"And what visage are you in now, huh? Holy tax accountant?"
"This? This is a . . . vessel."
"You mean you're possessing some poor bastard?" Dean asked angrily.
Castiel looked down at his dirtied appearance. "He's a devout man," he promised. "He actually prayed for it."
"Well I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?" Dean crossed his arms.
The angel frowned. "I told you."
"Right. And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?"
"Good things do happen, Dean."
Dean grimaced. "Not in my experience."
"What's the matter?" Castiel tilted his head. "You think you don't deserve to be saved?"
"Why'd you do it?" Dean asked.
"Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you."
Dean didn't respond. His stared at the ground. Alex let out a pent up breath and took a moment to study the angel. He was taller then Alex had imagined, but he still wore the dirty trench coat and the always-skewed blue tie. His dark brown hair was tousled, and brilliant blue eyes watched Dean closely. They flickered across Alex's face, and she met his gaze for a quick second before looking down at her shoes. On the floor Bobby stirred. Alex and Dean looked over at him. When Alex looked back up, Castiel was gone.
"What the hell?" Dean asked, noticing the angel was gone as well.
Alex huffed in amusement. "Get use to it."
...
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
It was the next morning. Alex rolled out of the front seat of Bobby's truck and onto the dirt of Bobby's driveway. "Ugh," she groaned. "That was only eight hours?"
"Shut up and stop complaining," Bobby grumbled.
The Impala pulled up behind them, and the engine turned off. The two Winchesters got out. "Got pie and beer." Dean held up a plastic bag from a local gas station. "And, uh, water for the kid."
"Not a kid," Alex muttered.
Dean tossed a beer to Bobby, then handed the bag to Sam.
"Hey. Sammy. Water."
Sam turned to her, jaw square. "Don't call me Sammy."
"Sammy."
"Stop. Only Dean gets to call me Sammy." Sam looked into the bag, frustrated at the girl.
"Okay. . . Samantha."
Sam glared up at her, eyes blazing.
"Shit." Alex took as step back as Sam stepped towards her menacingly. Dean started laughing as Sam charged at her. Alex turned tail and ran.
"Run, Forrest, run!" she heard Dean yell after her. And she did just that.