It was a few days later. They were camped out in a motel in southern Oklahoma, scouting for cases. It was early that morning when Alex woke. A low cramp spread through her stomach, and she flinched. Oh shit. She hurried to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She knew that pain. And it was that time of the month.
...
There was a knock on the door. Alex was curled up on the bathroom floor, internally screaming. She managed to hiss out a, "What?"
It was Sam. "Are you okay?"
Alex grimaced as another spasm passed through her lower abdomen. "Peachy." Please don't come in.
The door knob turned, and the door opened. "Oh my God. Are you okay?"
"Cramps!" Alex hissed, tears coming to her eyes. It felt like a werewolf was tearing apart her stomach.
"Dean!" Sam called his brother, kneeling beside the young girl. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Can you knock me out?" Alex curled up tighter.
Dean leaned against the doorframe, looking in. "What's wrong?" Worry tinged his voice.
"Cramps." Alex's eyes rolled into the back of her head. "Please! Kill me."
Alex had never seen Sam so concerned about her. "Hey hey hey. Deep breaths. Deep breaths, okay?"
Dean didn't seem to share in his brother's concern. "Push," he joked.
Alex glared up at him. "As soon as this is over, I will murder you in your sleep!" she hissed out.
Dean held up his hands defensively. "I see what they say about on their periods."
Alex tried to get to her feet, but fell over in exhaustion and pain. "I'll kill you later," she groaned, falling back onto the cold tile.
"Seriously. Is there anything I can do?" Sam shot his brother a glare before turning back to Alex.
"Apart from killing me? No. I'll be okay in an hour or two."
"C-Can I move you to the bed?"
"No!" Alex cried out. "I, please. I'll stay here."
"Oh. Okay." Sam stood up. "If you need anything, just call."
They left Alex alone on the floor.
...
She was somewhat back on her feet the next day. That was when Sam spoke up. "Dean." He called his brother over. Alex didn't move off of the couch.
"What's up?" Dean made his way past her.
"Local man commits suicide by swallowing four razors." Sam read the title of an article.
Dean let out a low whistle. "Gross. But is it our type of thing?"
"The razors were in the Halloween candy that he had eaten," Sam added
"Oh. Okay." Alex opened her eyes, turning her head to face them. "Sounds kinda witchy."
Sam shrugged. "Sounds like it."
"So Pennsylvania. That's almost a day's drive." Dean quickly thought it out in his head. "Okay. Should we head out?"
"It's worth a shot," Sam nodded. "There's nothing around here."
"Okay. Let's go." Dean grabbed his bag that was laying on the floor. "Get up," he told Alex. "We're leaving."
Alex grumbled something under her breath, but complied.
"Hey, you wanted to come with," Dean pointed out as they walked towards the car. Sam went to check them out. "Which I still don't understand." He got in behind the wheel, and Alex slid into the backseat. He turned to face her. "Why would you want to get involved in all of this?"
Alex shrugged. "I kind of am involved in all of this. I know what's going to happen, Dean. Even if I wanted no part in this, how could I turn a blind eye?"
"Yeah, but all this is . . . it's crap. Why would you choose to do any of this?"
"I dunno. I mean, I can save people, Dean. I can stop them from dying. And I won't be able to live knowing I could have done something, but didn't. Yeah, I know this is going to be awful. But it's worth it."
Dean shook his head. "You can't save everyone, Alex. Believe me, I've tried."
"And I'm going to try too." Alex sighed, shifting slightly. "Because if I can save just one person, it'll be worth it."
Sam approached and got in the front seat, and the conversation died.
...
October 30th, 2008
Pittson, Pennsylvania
They arrived in Pittson, Pennsylvania, late that day. Dean brought dinner in, and Sam started looking in to the history of Luke Wallace, the deceased. The next day, Sam and Dean donned on their FBI suits and left to talk to Mrs. Wallace, leaving Alex by herself. She sighed, flipping on the tv. Then she sat down on the green couch, rubbing her head. She was developing a headache, and reached for her phone.
"Hello?" Dean answered.
"Hey. Do we have any aspirin in the car?"
"Not sure. Why?"
Alex shrugged, even though he couldn't see it. "I have a headache."
"I'll check," Dean promised. "If not, we'll pick up something on the way back."
"Thanks man."
He hung up, and Alex turned back to the tv, laying down. Before long, she was asleep.
...
She woke when the door opened. Dean and Sam walked through. She got up, walking over. Sam took her spot on the couch, and Dean tossed her a pill bottle. She thanked him and grabbed some water out of the fridge. Sam pulled out his laptop, and Dean brushed past her to grab a beer. "Well, I'm going to go see what I can dig up on out vic here. See you in a few?"
"Yeah." Sam agreed distantly.
"Okay. And, uh, don't kill each other while I'm gone, kay?" He grabbed the keys and left.
Alex sat down on one of the beds, looking over at Sam. "What'd you learn?"
Sam said nothing, but motioned to a small, brown hex bag.
Alex frowned. "Witch, then. Wonderful."
"Yeah."
"Has the guy any enemies? Old grudges? Anything?"
"Nothing that his wife knew of."
"Hm. So now what?"
"Now you get to shut up and I'll do my research." With that, Sam tuned her out. Alex fell backwards onto the bed, waiting for the painkillers to set in.
...
Dean returned a few hours later. He tossed the keys onto the table by the door. He also unwrapped a piece of candy and popped it into his mouth.
"Really?" Sam noticed, and glanced up at his brother. "After that guy choked down all those razor blades?"
Dean shrugged. "It's Halloween, man."
Sam let out a huff of laughter. "Yeah, for us every day is Halloween."
Dean wandered over to his brother and sat down on the couch next to him. "Don't be a downer. Anything interesting?"
"Well, we're on a witch hunt, that's for sure. This isn't your typical hex bag."
Alex perked up, looking over at them. Sam had opened the bag and was pointing to the contents.
"No?" Dean looked over at his brother.
Sam picked up a strange, dried-up herb. "Goldenthread, an herb that's been extinct for two hundred years. And this," he picked up a circular metallic item, "is Celtic, and I don't mean some new age knock-off. It looks like the real deal, like six hundred years old real."
Dean grunted in acknowledgement and picked up another item. It was thin and long, and looked almost burned.
"And, um, is the charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby," Sam finished.
Dean quickly put the bone down. "Gross."
Sam picked it up. "Relax, man, it's like, at least a hundred years old."
"Oh yeah, like that makes it better?" Dean shook his head. "Witches man, they're so friggin' skeevy." He got up, walking over to the table.
"Yeah, well it takes a pretty powerful one to put a bag like this together. More juice than we've ever dealt with, that's for you. What about you? Dig up anything on the victim?"
Dean shook his head. "This Luke Wallace? He was so vanilla he makes vanilla seem spicy."
Alex chuckled, and Sam did the same, shaking his head.
"I can't find any reason why anyone would want this guy dead," Dean finished.
Sam shook his head and sighed.
"So now what?" Alex looked from brother to brother.
"Now we wait."
"For her to strike again?" Alex scoffed.
"Hey. I don't like this anymore than you do, but until we find some sort of connection or pattern, we're stuck."
...
It was almost 1am when the call came in over the police scanner. A young girl had drowned in a bobbing-for-apple barrel. Which apparently had been full of boiling water. Sam and Dean immediately left. Alex went back to sleep.
...
Alex rolled over a a bright light. She sat up with a loud groan.
"Oh, you're up." Sam barely glanced up.
"How long have you been back?" Alex looked at the clock. 4am.
"Few hours." Sam went back to his book.
"I'm telling you," Dean spoke up, and Alex looked over to see him sitting at the table, computer in front of him. "These vics are squeaky clean. There is no reason for wicked bitch payback."
"What'd I miss?" Alex struggled up into a sitting position. "There's a second vic?"
"That girl who drowned. In the boiling apple barrel?"
"Right. You found a hex bag?"
"Sure did." Sam stood up, taking his book with him. "But, uh, I'm not so sure it's about payback."
"Wow." Dean looked at him sarcastically. "Insightful." He took a sip of his beer.
Sam rolled his eyes.
"It's okay, Sammy," Alex chirped up. "I'm listening."
Sam ignored her. "Maybe this witch isn't working the grudge, maybe she's working a spell. Check this out." He started scanning his book. "Three blood sacrifices over three days, the last before midnight on the final day of the final harvest." He looked up. "Celtic calendar, the final day of the final harvest is October 31st." He handed Dean the book, who took it.
"Halloween," Dean reiterated.
"Oh thanks. I was confused for a second." Alex got out of bed, wandering over.
"So, what exactly are the, uh, blood sacrifices for?"
"Uh, if I'm right, the witch is summoning a demon, and not just any demon. Samhain."
Dean looked up at his brother. "Am I suppose to be impressed?" Alex grunted in agreement.
"Dean, Samhain is the damn origin of Halloween. The Celts believed that October 31st was the one night of the year when the veil was thinnest between the living and the dead, and it was Samhain's night. I mean, masks were put on to hide from him, sweets left on the doorstep to appease him, faces carved into pumpkins to worship him. He was exorcized centuries ago."
"So even though Samhain took a trip downstairs, the tradition stuck."
"Exactly," Sam nodded, "only now instead of demons and blood orgies, Halloween is all about kids, candy, and costumes."
"Okay, so some witch wants to raise Samhain and take back the night?"
"Dean, this is serious."
"I am serious!"
"We're talking heavyweight witchcraft here. This ritual can only be preformed every six hundred years."
"And let me guess," Alex sighed. "Tomorrow's the six hundred year anniversary?"
Sam nodded, and Dean sighed. "Naturally."
"Naturally," Alex echoed. She sat down in the chair opposite Dean.
Dean flipped through the books. "Well, it sure is a lot of death and destruction for one demon."
"That's because he likes company," Sam explained. "One's he's raised, Samhain can do some raising on his own."
"Raising what, exactly?"
"Dark, evil crap. And lots of it. I mean, they follow him around like the friggin' Pied Piper."
"So we're talking ghosts?"
"Right."
"Zombies."
"Mm-hmm," Sam nodded.
Alex groaned. "I hate zombies."
"I know. Leprechauns?"
Sam shot him a loaded glance. "Dean-"
"Those little dudes are scary," Dean defended. "Little hands."
"Look. It just starts with ghosts and ghouls. This sucker keeps going. By night's end we are talking ever awful thing we have ever seen. Everything we fight, all in one place."
Dean grimaced. "It's going to be a slaughterhouse."
Sam agreed.
"So, how do we stop it?" Dean flipped through the book.
"Uh, not sure. Stop the three blood sacrifices, I guess." He glanced at Alex. "Any of this sound familiar?"
Alex shook her head. "Sorry. Not every case gets featured in the show. But, uh, if any of this starts to sound familiar, I'll let you know." They fell into silence.
...
Dean brought in breakfast the next morning, and then headed off. When Alex asked Sam where Dean was, she was told he was staked out at the Wallace's.
Sometime before lunch, Sam called Dean. "How's it going?" Long pause. Sam sighed. "Look, Dean. Someone planted those hex bags, someone with access to both houses. There's gotta be some connection." Another pause. "Quit whining."
Alex snickered.
"What?" Sam glanced at Alex. "Yeah, yeah. I'll check her out." He hung up.
"I take it Dean found something."
"Yeah. Uh, apparently the girl who was at the party last night is also the babysitter for the Wallace's."
"Hm." Alex nodded. "That sounds good. Well, good for us, I mean." She lapsed into silence.
...
Dean came back a few minutes later. He tossed the keys on the table.
"So, our apple-bobbing cheerleader?"
"Tracy?"
"Mm-hmm."
"The Wallace's babysitter." Dean let out a harsh breath. "She told me she'd never even heard of Luke Wallace."
"Hm. Interesting look for a century old witch."
"Yeah, well, if you were a six-hundred year old witch and you could pick any costume to come back in, wouldn't you go for a hot cheerleader?" Dean sat down across from his brother on the bed. "I would."
Sam glanced at his brother, shaking his head unbelievingly. Dean stared back innocently.
"Okie-dokie then." Alex sat on the bed next to Dean.
"Yeah. Well, uh, Tracy's not as wholesome as she looks. Did some digging - apparently she got into a violent altercation with one of her teachers. Got suspended from school." Sam turned his laptop so Dean could see the screen. It was a background on Tracy Davis.
"Hm." Dean scrolled through it. "So we should go talk to that teacher."
"Yeah. His name is Mr. Harding. He's the art teacher."
"Okay." Dean stood up. "Let's go. Alex, on your feet." He pulled her up.
"No," Alex complained playfully.
"You need to get out. You've been cooped up far to long."
Alex sighed. "Fine. Whatever."
"Okay."Dean paused. "Is that my jacket?"
"One of them," Alex shrugged. "I really don't have that many clothes of my own."
Dean just shook his head.
...
Sam and Dean changed into suits and ties, and all three got into the car. They drove ten minutes to the local high school. Dean led the way in. "Stay out of the way," he told Alex. "Okay? No asking questions, no bringing attention to yourself. If they ask why your here, your with us 'cause we were in the area and decided to stop by." He paused. "Just let me do the talking."
Alex nodded, fiddling with the sleeve of her jacket. Well, Dean's jacket. They walked up a flight of stairs and down a hallway before pushing their way into a large room. Dean led the way, and Sam roughly nudged Alex out of the way to make room for him to go second. Alex let him. Dean was staring up at the ceiling where several masks were hung. He was looking at one particularly demonic looking one, and his body was rigid. Alex walked up to him, stopping by his side, letting her shoulder brush against his in a sign of silent comfort. "Bring back memories?" Sam asked, breaking his brother concentration.
"W-What do you mean?" Dean stammered.
"Being a teenager, all that angst." Sam seemed unaware of his brother's hesitance.
Dean let out a small, relieved sigh. "Oh."
"What'd you think I meant?"
"Nothing." Dean shook his head. Sam believed him, and walked forward.
"Hell?" Alex murmured.
Dean glanced down at her. She looked up, offering a small comforting smile. He said nothing, but walked after his brother.
Alex sighed, trailing after them. She felt slightly hurt at his coldness, but knew she shouldn't have expected anything else.
"You gentlemen wanted to talk to me?" A man came around the corner, carrying several items.
"Ah. Mr. Harding." Sam nodded in greeting.
"Oh, please, Don." Don held out his hand.
"Okay Don." Sam shook it.
Don shook Deans' hand. "Even my students call me Don."
"Yeah, we get it, Don." Both Dean and Sam pulled out their badges, showing them before putting them back away.
"Is, uh, she with you?" Don motioned to Alex.
"Yes, sorry." Dean spoke up. "We just came from lunch when we decided to swing by here. I hope you don't mind?"
Don shook his head. "It's no problem. Now, what do you want to know?" Alex took a few steps back to give them room to talk.
"We, uh, have a few questions about Tracy Davis."
"Uh, yeah, Tracy, uh, bright kid, loads of talent. It's a shame she got suspended."
"You, uh, had a . . . violent altercation?"
"Yeah. She exploded. If Principal Murrow hadn't walked by when he did, Tracy would have clawed my eyes out."
Alex frowned slightly. She looked around, studying the place. There was a boy across the room standing by a kiln. He looked over at her, waving. Alex shot him a half-hearted smile.
"Why?" She heard Sam ask.
"I, uh, you know, I was only trying to rap with her about her work. It had gotten inappropriate and disturbing."
At that, Alex turned back, interested.
"Even more disturbing, then, uh, those guys?" Dean pointed vaguely up at the masks.
"She would cover page after page with these bizarre cryptic symbols, and then there were the drawings." Don paused. "Detailed images of killings, gory, primitive, and she would depict herself in the middle of them, participating."
"Symbols? What kind of symbols?" Sam pulled something out of his pocket. "Uh, anything like this?"
Don studied it, then nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I think that might have been one of them."
"You know where Tracy is now?" Dean asked.
"I would imagine her apartment."
"Her apartment?"
"Yeah. She got her about a year ago, alone, as I understand it, as an emancipated teen. God only knows what her parents were like."
Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "Uh, thank you. If we have anymore questions, we'll call." Sam and Dean turned to leave. Alex trailed off behind.
...
They got back into the Impala. "Okay. Plan of action." Dean started up the car. "You have Tracy's address?"
"Uh, yeah." Sam pulled out his folder. "Right here."
"Okay. You go check out the place. I'll go talk to some of her friends from the party. Alex."
"Hm?" Alex looked up.
"With me." Dean glanced at her, then at Sam. "I'd send you with Sam, but I don't think I trust you two together on your own."
Sam huffed, shaking his head, and Alex rolled her eyes, but neither disagreed. They drove off. Dean dropped Sam off close to Tracy's address. It was only a mile or two from their motel, so Sam agreed to walk back. Alex slid up to the front seat, and they drove off.
...
After a few minutes, Dean cleared his throat. Alex looked over at him. "So, uh, what happened back there?" he finally asked.
Alex returned her eyes to the road. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, back at the art room. What was with that?"
"I could ask you the same thing." Alex broached the subject carefully.
"Listen." Dean's voice carried only the slightest bit of tension. "You knew what I was thinking when I saw that mask. Do you remember any of this or not?"
"I don't remember this. But it wasn't hard to guess." Alex turned her head to look at him. "I know you remember Hell, Dean. I remember the flashes of it from the show, of you yelling Sam's name. The blood, and the screams. And I'm really, really sorry you remember." She lowered her voice. "I wish I could have stopped you from dying. But that would only mean Sam would die instead of you. All I know is this whole damn thing couldn't be messier, but I'm just trying to help, okay?"
Dean was silent for a few seconds, watching the road. "I understand," he finally nodded. "And thanks for not telling Sam, and, uh, all that."
"Yeah, no problem. But, uh, if he does figure out you remember Hell, he didn't hear it from me, okay? I knew about the demon-blood exorcize-demons-with-his-mind thing, but I promised him I wouldn't tell you. And I'm telling you the same. I'm not a tattler, and I can keep secrets." She sighed, turning back to the window. "Just promise you'll keep mine," she murmured, barely loud enough for him to hear.
"Your secret?" Dean scoffed. "And what secret is that?"
"That I come from a place where this is a show." Alex turned to face him, face serious. "That I know the future. If the wrong person finds out, I could be dead. Worse, I'd be tortured until I told them what I knew, and then I'd be killed."
Dean let out a long breath. "I won't let that happen," he finally promised. "I know what that feels like, and I won't let you go through it."
"Thank you."
...
They drove around. Dean a couple times to talk to several people, but Alex waited in the car. Dean handed her a bag of candy, reminding Alex that today was Halloween, and together they finished it off. Finally they headed back to the motel room. Sam walked towards them as they pulled in.
Dean got out. "So?" he asked.
"Tracy was nowhere I could find," Sam reported. "What about her friends?"
"Nah. Luck is not our style," Dean shrugged. "Her friends don't know where she is. It's like the bitch popped a broomstick." They started walking towards their room. Alex followed.
"She could be making the third sacrifice any time," Sam fretted, carefully watch a rather chubby child approach wearing an fake astronaut suit.
"Yes," Dean replied sarcastically, "thank you, Sam." Alex snickered.
The astronaut kid walked up to them and held out a bucket. "Trick or treat."
Dean looked around. "This is a motel."
"So?"
"So we don't have any candy."
"No, we have a ton in the uh," Sam turned to point to the Impala, but Dean stopped him.
"We did," he corrected. "It's gone now."
Sam looked at Dean, his face frowning sightly as he understood what Dean meant.
"Sorry, kid. We can't help ya," Dean finished.
The astronaut looked unimpressed. "I want candy."
"Well, I think you've had enough." Dean looked down at him disdainfully.
The astronaut stomped past him, brushing forcefully past Dean. Dean held up his hands, shaking his head.
Sam walked up to the motel door, unlocking it and stepping in. All Alex saw next was him rushing forward, drawing his gun. "Who are you?" he yelled.
Dean ran in. "Sam! Sam, wait. It's Castiel."
At the angel's name, Alex hurried into the room. Castiel was sitting on one of the beds. He stood up when they entered.
Dean put a hand on Sam's shoulder, and Sam lowered his gun, shocked. "The angel," Dean added. "Him, I don't know." Alex suddenly noticed the man standing near the window, looking out. Black skinned with a black suit and tie. Professional looking and here with Castiel? Angel.
"Hello Sam." Castiel acknowledged Dean's brother.
"Oh my God -er . . . uh- I didn't mean to - sorry," Sam stumbled. "It's an honor, really. I-I've heard a lot about you." Sam held out a hand. Castiel looked at it, unsure of what Sam was doing.
"Cas." Alex whispered, stepped forward. "It's a handshake." When Castiel did nothing, she added. "You're suppose to shake his hand."
Castiel did what she said. "It is an honor to meet you too, Sam Winchester," he said, his voice still deep and gravelly. "The boy with the demon blood. I'm glad to see you have ceased your . . . extracurricular activities."
Alex winced at those words. "Wow," she muttered to herself. "Smooth as fuck."
"Let's keep it that way," the angel facing the window said. His voice was deep as well, and Alex started to wonder if it was an angel thing. She shook the idea away.
"Yeah, okay Chuckles," Dean was saying. He had closed the motel door and had returned to stand by his brother. "Who's your friend?
Castiel ignored him. "This raising of Samhain. Have you stopped it?"
"Why?"
"Dean, have you located the witch?"
"Yeah, we've located the witch."
"And is the witch dead?"
"No, but-" Sam began.
"We know who she is," Dean finished.
Castiel walked over to the table in between the beds. "Apparently the witch knows who you are also," he said, holding up several hex bags. "These were inside the wall of your room. If we hadn't found them, surely one or all of you would have been dead. Do you know where the witch is now?"
"Why do you care?" Alex wondered aloud. Then she sucked in a loud breath. "This is a seal, isn't it? The raising of Samhain?"
"You know about the seals?" The angel at the window turned.
"So this is about your buddy Lucifer," Dean stated.
"Lucifer is no friend of ours," the angel replied coldly. Alex decided she didn't like him.
"It's just an expression."
"Lucifer cannot rise. The breaking of the seals must be prevented at all costs."
"Okay great. Now that you're all here, why don't you tell us where the witch is, we'll gank her, and then we can all go home."
"We are not omniscient," Castiel said quietly. "This witch is very powerful. She's cloaked even our methods." He looked at Alex, asking a silent question. She shook her head. She didn't know.
"Okay, well, we already know who she is, so if we work together-"
Sam was cut off by the angel. "Enough of this."
"Alright, who are you and why should I care?" Dean snapped.
"This is Uriel," Castiel explained. Uriel approached. "He's what you might call a . . . specialist."
Uriel. The name flashed through Alex's mind. Right. He's an angel. Not a good one, if she remembered correctly. A traitor.
"What kind of specialist? What are you gonna do?"
"You - uh, all of you - need to leave town immediately," Castiel instructed.
"Why?"
"Because we're about to destroy it."
Sam and Dean exchanged a worried glance. "So this is your plan? You're gonna smite the whole friggin' town?" Dean finally snapped.
"We're out of time," Castiel snapped back. "The witch has to die, the seal must be saved."
"There are a thousand people here," Sam argued.
"One thousand two hundred and fourteen," Uriel corrected.
"And you're willing to kill them all?" Sam continued.
"This isn't the first time I've . . . purified a city."
"Look I understand this is regrettable," Castiel began.
Dean cut him off. "Regrettable?"
"We have to hold the line. We have lost too many seals already."
"So you screw the pooch on some seals and now the town has to pay the price?" Dean's fist shook angrily.
Castiel took a step forward. "It's the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion. There's a bigger picture here."
"Right. 'Cause your the bigger picture kind of guys."
"Lucifer cannot rise. If he does, Hell rises with him. It that something you're willing to risk?"
"We'll stop this witch before she summons anyone," Sam insisted. "Your seal won't be broken and no one has to die."
"We're wasting time with these mud monkeys," Uriel growled impatiently.
Castiel turned to face him. "I'm sorry, but we have our orders."
"No, you can't do this." Sam begged. "You're angels. I mean, aren't you suppose to - You're suppose to show mercy!"
"Says who?" Uriel challenged.
"We don't have a choice," Castiel began.
"Of course you have a choice. I mean, come on, what? You've never questioned a crap order, huh? What are you both, a couple of hammers?" Dean stepped forward angrily.
"The order comes from heaven," Castiel said. "Therefore they are just."
Alex let out a frustrated snort, and Uriel turned to face her. "And who are you to doubt Heaven?" he asked, taking a menacing step towards her. "You're not even a Winchester."
"I'll doubt Heaven if I want." Alex crossed her arms. "I've seen how fallible and corruptible you angels can be -" She was cut off as Uriel walked up to her.
"Let her be," Castiel warned.
"Did you hear what she said, brother?" Uriel picked her up by the collar of her jacket. Alex struggled. "I should-"
"Uriel. Enough!" Castiel snapped, turning to face the other angel. "Put her down."
Uriel scowled, but obediently put Alex down. He stepped back, and Alex smoothed down her jacket.
Castiel turned to Dean. "I'm not gonna let you smite this whole town," Dean swore. "You'll have to kill me first, you hear? And you went through a lot of trouble to pull me out of Hell, so I figure I'm worth something to the man upstairs, hmm? "
Castiel stood quietly for a second before nodding. "You two better move quickly. You have to stop the seal from breaking." Then he was gone. Uriel followed.
Sam seemed shocked at the angel's sudden disappearance. "Now what?" he finally turned to his brother.
"Now we go stop that witch." Dean turned towards the door. They followed. They walked over to the Impala when Dean stopped dead in his tracks. The Impala was covered in eggs.
Alex winced. Someone was going to die.
"ASTRONAUT!" Dean got into his car, slamming the door behind him. Sam and Alex got in as well. He looked over at Sam. "What?"
"Nothing." Sam studied the hex bag in his hand. He took a long breath. "It's just, I thought they'd be different."
"Who, the angels?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I tried to warn ya." Dean glanced back at Alex.
"I mean, I thought they'd be . . . righteous," Sam finished.
"Well, they are righteous. That's kind of the problem. Of course there's nothing more dangerous than some a-hole who thinks he's on a holy mission."
Alex let out a disagreeable huff.
"What?" Dean looked at her. "You think I'm wrong?"
"It's just . . . " Alex hesitated, unsure of how to explain it without ruining anything. "Heaven's . . . not what you think it is. Not anymore. Uh, ever since God left, the archangels have been running the show, and, well, they're . . . they're not God."
Both Sam and Dean turned around, shocked. "What?"
Alex shot them an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I probably shouldn't have said any of that."
"So there's no God?"
"No, there's a God. There's definitely a God. He, just . . . isn't in heaven anymore. I don't know why. But he has his reasons."
Sam looked utterly disappointed, and Dean just shook his head. Sam opened the hex bag and sullenly went through the contents.
"Well, are you gonna figure out a way to stop this witch, or are you just gonna sit their fingering your bone?" Dean asked his brother, trying to lighten the mood.
"You know how much heat it would take char a bone like this, Dean?" Sam held up the newborn's bone.
"No."
"A lot. I mean, more than a fire or some kitchen oven."
"Okay, Betty Crocker, what does that mean?"
"Kiln," Alex said.
"Right," Sam nodded.
"Okay." Dean pulled the car out of the parking lot. "High school it is."
...
They pulled into the high school, and got out. Dean straightened his tie and led them in. They stopped in office. "Excuse me, but is Don Harding in?"
The woman shook her head. "I'm sorry, but he's out for the day. Can I take a message?"
"No." Dean shook his head. "It's fine." They left, and Dean let out a small smile as he led them up to Don's office. Dean immediately headed over to one of the large kilns. Alex followed. They looked inside. "So Tracy used the kiln to char the bones. What's the big deal?"
Alex looked up to see Sam over at Don's desk. "Dean, that hex bag turned up in our room not after we talked to Tracy-"
"After we talked to the teacher," Dean finished. He walked over to Sam.
Alex followed. "Yeah. And three hex bags turned up. Tracy only knew the two of you. So what? Are they both in on it? Or does the teacher have access to that party and the Wallace's?"
Dean looked thoughtful at her comment, and Sam looked down at the desk. "Hey," he began, kneeling beside a locked bottom drawer. Dean handed him a nearby hammer, and Sam easily knocked the latch from the wooden desk. He opened it, and let out a long breath. There was a small bowl with several small bones. One of them was charred. Alex recognized some of them to be jawbones.
"My God," Sam said quietly. "Those are all from children."
"And I'm guessing he's not saving them for the dog," Dean added dryly. Sam closed the door and stood up.
"So is Tracy off the hook then?" Alex asked.
"Looks like it."
There was movement outside the door, and all three froze. "We should probably go," Dean said. All three agreed.
...
They were back at the motel within five minutes. Sam was quick to find the address of Don Harding. Then they made their plan. By the time they headed out, it was dark. Dean and Sam had reluctantly admitted that it would be smart for Alex to come along, but both agreed that she was to stay in the car. Alex had whole-heartedly agreed. Don's house was on the other side of town, and they arrived there at approximately ten o'clock. Dean parked the car, and all three got out. They circled around to the trunk, and the Winchesters loaded their guns. Alex took hers, and went back to the front seat. She watched them cross the street, and then she lost sight.
...
It was fifteen minutes later when there was movement. Alex immediately perked up. She recognized Don Harding as he entered the house. He walked clumsily, and his shirt was stained in blood. Sensing something was off, Alex slumped down in her seat, watching him warily. He made his way down the street, passing by several trick-or-treaters. He always turned his head to watch them, and Alex knew something was definitely wrong. A few seconds after he disappeared from sight Sam and Dean hurried out. Alex got out of the car to meet them, frowning when she saw the blood over their faces. "What happened?"
"Shut up," Dean growled. He turned to Alex. "How the hell are we going to find this mook?"
"Where would you go to raise other dark forces of the night?" Sam countered.
"The cemetery." Dean got into the car. Sam and Alex followed.
"So Samhain's up and walking around?" Alex asked as the drove off.
"Pretty much."
"Tell me what happened," Alex prompted them when they fell silent.
"Well, we got there and Don had Tracy chained up. We shot him and untied her."
"Turns out she was in on it too," Dean added.
Sam nodded. "She threw us back and finished the spell."
"And the blood?" Alex frowned again.
"Sam's idea. He uh . . . took a shot."
"People used masks to hide from Samhain," Sam explained. "And it worked."
"Thank God for that," Dean mumbled, slowing the car to let several kids cross the road.
"Okay. What about Tracy? Is she dead?"
"Yeah. Samhain and her had this whole . . . lovers reunited thing going on." When Dean chuckled, Sam glared at him. "Then he snapped her neck and called her a whore."
Alex snorted. "Ah. At least he's a demon with standards."
Dean chuckled again, less this time.
"Yea. But, uh, he's pretty powerful." Sam glanced at his brother. "It might take more than the usual weapons."
Dean met his brother's gaze, then understood what he was getting out. "Sam, no," he protested. "You're not using your psychic whatever."
"Don't even think about it." Sam shook his head "Ruby's knife is enough. Why?"
"Well, because the angel said so for one-"
"I thought you said they're a bunch of fanatics."
"Well, they happen to be right on this one."
"I don't know, Dean. It doesn't seem like they're right about much."
"Because you would know about that," Alex snapped. "They're not as bad as you think. Sure, a lot are assholes, but some try."
"Just forget about the angels," Dean snapped back. "You said yourself, these powers, it's like playing with fire." Dean pulled Ruby's knife out from his jacket, holding it out for Sam. "Please."
Sam took the knife, but said nothing as Dean pulled the car into the cemetery.
"There. Samhain." Alex pointed towards the mausoleum.
Sam and Dean got out. "Stay here. "
"I can help," Alex snapped. "I won't get in the way. Promise."
Sam ran off towards the building, and Dean sighed. "Fine. Do exactly as we say, okay?"
Alex nodded, and followed Dean. They ran down the stairs. At the bottom was a hallway going left, and across from that was a crypt, separated by a large gate. Teenagers were crowded behind it, begging to get out. There was a loud rattling noise, and Alex saw that the crypts were shaking.
"Help them," Sam ordered.
"Dude, you're not going off alone."
"Do it!" Sam ran off down the hallway.
"Stand back," Dean pulled out his gun. The teens back away, and Dean shot the lock. The door swung open. "Come on!" Dean yelled. "Get out!" The teens ran past him. "Move!"
The last one disappeared up the stairs, but the panels to the crypts were still shaking. One cracked open, and a zombie crawled out. "Damn!" Alex cursed. "I hate zombies. What do I do?" She pulled out her gun. "Headshot?"
Dean nodded. Several more zombies crawled out, and Dean open fired. Alex followed suit. She was still a decent shot, and hit several of them dead on. They crumpled to the ground. One stood in front of them, and Dean turned his gun towards it. However, it flickered and disappeared. Alex recognized it with confusion. She had already killed that one. Then it reappeared behind Dean, sending him flying into the wall.
"Zombie ghost orgy, huh?" Dean grumbled, standing up. "That's it. We're torching everybody. Alex." He tossed her keys. "Salt. Gasoline. Now."
Alex nodded and dashed up the stairs and to the car. She reached into the trunk and pulled out what she needed. Then she went back downstairs. "Here." She handed the stuff to Dean. "Salt. Gasoline. Iron crowbar."
Dean nodded appreciatively. "Good thinking," he praised her. Several more zombies were laying on the floor. "I've been having trouble with these damn zombies ghosts." As he spoke, another one appeared. Dean swung the crowbar, dispelling it. He took the salt and poured them over the corpses. Alex wordlessly did the same with the gasoline. Dean lit a lighter, and the bodies exploded into flames. A ghost appeared only to scream in pain as it burned up. They left the empty containers and hurried off to find Sam.
He was at the end of the hallway facing them, hand outstretched. In front of him was Samhain. Alex and Dean came to a stop. As they watched, black smoke unfurled from his mouth, falling to the ground. The floor glowed with an fiery light as the smoke disappeared. Samhain's vessel collapsed as the last of the smoke disappeared. He look up, finally noticing them. Blood was dripping down from his nose, and for the first time in a long time, Alex felt afraid of him.
Dean stared at his brother, then spun around, walking away. "Dean," Sam began. Alex shot him an apologetic and scared look, then hurried after his brother. Sam followed.
...
They wordlessly got back into the car and drove off. As they neared the motel, Sam spoke. "Dean, listen." When Dean didn't say anything, Sam continued. "I'm sorry, okay? But what was I suppose to do? The knife was on the other side of the room. He would have killed me, then you, and then who would stop him?"
"It's fine." Dean didn't look at his brother. "I understand. I, I just wish you didn't have to do it, ya know?"
"Yes."
They lapsed back into silence.
...
No one was able to sleep. Dean and Sam drank, and Alex sat on the bed, refusing to turn off the lights. Neither brother disagreed. Eventually Alex fell asleep, but woke up several hours later in a cold sweat. She slept on and off the rest of that night.
...
The next day, Sam brought in breakfast. Alex had little appetite, and nibbled on the food. Nothing was said about last night. After a few hours of milling around, Dean stood up. "I'm going over to the park," he said. Sam didn't offer to go with.
"Can I come?" Alex asked quietly.
Dean looked at her, eyes dull. "Fine," he finally said. He walked out of the door, and Alex followed. She let him walk a few feet ahead of her as they crossed the street and walked down the block. There was a large field along with a playground. Dean sat down on a bench, staring out. Alex sat at the base of the tree next to him, losing herself in her own thoughts.
...
They were there for several minutes before there was a flutter of wings. Both Alex and Dean looked over. "Let me guess," Dean said dryly. "You're here for the, 'I told you so'."
"No."
"Good. Because I'm not really that interested."
"I am not here to judge you, Dean."
Alex watched their interaction carefully, not feeling in the mood to join the conversation.
"Then why are you here?" Dean snapped.
"Our orders-"
"Yeah, you know, I've had about enough of these orders of yours-"
Castiel interrupted him. "Our orders were not to stop the summoning of Samhain, they were to do whatever you told us to do." At that, Alex perked up. She didn't remember that.
"Your orders were to follow my orders?" Dean asked skeptically.
"It was a test to see how you would preform under...battlefield conditions, you might say."
That's interesting, Alex though. Why is that? Because he's Michael's vessel, perhaps? That doesn't make sense. Weird.
Dean scoffed at Castiel's words. "It was a witch, not the Tet Offensive." He sighed. "So I, uh, failed your test, huh? I get it. But you know what? If you had waved that magic time-traveling wand of yours and we had to do this all over again, I'd make the same call. 'Cause see, I don't know what's going to happen when those seals are broken, hell, I don't even know what's going to happen tomorrow. But what I do know is this, here? These kids, those swings, this tree, it's all here because of my brother and me."
And me, Alex added silently. Although I guess I really didn't do anything. She sighed.
"You misunderstand me, Dean." Castiel spoke, his voice deep and smooth. "I'm not like you think. I was praying that you would choose to save this town."
"You were?" Dean could barely contain his surprise.
"These people, they're all my father's creations. They're works of art, and yet, even though you stopped Samhain, the seal was broken and we are one step closer to hell on earth, for all creation. Now that's not an expression, Dean. It's literal. You of all people should appreciate what that means."
Dean visibly flinched.
"Smooth, Cas," Alex muttered. Like always, she was ignored.
"Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul?" Castiel looked over at the hunter. When Dean nodded, Castiel let out a breath. "I am not a . . . hammer, as you say. I have questions, I have doubts. I don't know what is right or what is wrong anymore, whether you passed or failed here. But in the coming months you will have more decisions to make. I don't envy the weight upon your shoulder's. Either of yours." He looked at Alex, and she understood what he meant. "I truly don't."
Alex let out a sad smile. Castiel disappeared.
...
That night, Sam and Dean were able to fall asleep. Alex tried too. She woke up in a cold sweat. As her dream came back, she began to shake. She looked over at the Winchesters. Fast asleep. She fell back onto the pillows, breathing heavily. Fear gnawed at her stomach, and soon she was too scared to stay laying down. After a second's thought, she crawled out of her bed and made her way over to the other bed. She crawled in between Sam and Dean, curling up.
Dean shifted groggily. "Alex?"
Alex hummed a response.
"What's wrong?" Dean sat up, looking down at her. Sam grunted, but remained asleep.
"Nightmare." Alex tried to steady her breathing as the memories returned. The half-rotten corpses breaking out of the crypts, staggering towards her. She started shaking again.
Dean groaned quietly.
"Sorry," Alex apologized shakily, her breathing ragged. "I-I can leave if you want me to."
"No, no. It's fine." Dean laid back down, turning his back to her. "Just, uh, keep it down. And hands to yourself."
Despite herself, Alex huffed in amusement. "Same to you." She closed her eyes, comforted by the two hunters on either side of her. She was able to fall asleep.