April 7th, 2010
Muncie, Indiana

Something was happening. Alex struggled to pull her mind together, but the blackness lingered, threatening to pull her back under. She could feel herself moving through the air, supported by a strong, unmovable force, and the young girl forced her heavy eyelids open. Brightness flooded her vision, and she immediately squeezed them shut again as nausea rocked through her small body. She could feel arms around her, supporting her frame as they moved, and Alex pressed her head into their chest. Her nostrils flared, taking in the smell of her savior; it was familiar, but the hunter couldn't place it, her throbbing head causing her thoughts and sense to jumble together. Memories began trickling back — a face here, a word or two there — and then the barrier broke. Lucifer. Alex trembled at the name, and her eyes flickered open. She had confronted Lucifer and survived.

Her head was still pressed up against a warm, solid chest, and for a moment all Alex saw was brown. It took her a moment to work up the strength to pull away, and she squinted against the light as she peered up into the man's face. "D-Dean?" The word came out as a hoarse mumble, and Alex's head fell back to his chest as another wave of empty queasiness.

She could feel the Winchester pause to look down at her, and she peered up to see his face plastered with concern. The worry faded, however, when their eyes met, and Alex closed her eyes as anger lit up Dean's gaze. "What the hell were you thinking?" he snapped, and his words were accentuated by a jolt as he pushed his way out of the hotel doors.

Alex groaned in response, but her discomfort was momentarily quelled by the rush of cold night air across her cheek. "I'm fine." Her voice shook as Dean laid her in the backseat of the Impala, and she pressed her face up against the warm leather. "Everything's okay."

"Like hell it is." Dean's words were muttered under his breath as he slid into the front seat, but before the Winchester could press her further, the darkness returned, dragging the young girl back into unconsciousness.

...

The lights were back, less harsh than before, and Alex opened her eyes. She was lying on a bed, the mattress soft beneath her back, and even though the throbbing headache had subsided, her throat was parched, and a dull ache sat in the pit of her stomach. She shifted, and the bed creaked, drawing the attention of the figures in the corner. "How … how long was I out?" Alex forced herself up to recline against the headboard, eyes narrowed as she looked towards Winchester at the table.

"Hard to say." Chair legs squealed against the linoleum as Dean stood up, and the bed dipped beneath his weight as he sat down beside her. "Six, maybe eight hours? I went back for you when you didn't call, and I found you unconscious in the lobby. How much you you remember?"

"I don't know. Not much. I-I just … passed out." Alex reached up to rub the back of her neck with a grimace before she added, "I'm not hurt, though. What — what did I miss?"

"Gabriel's dead." Sam's voice came from the bathroom, and Alex turned to watch him step out of the bathroom. The younger Winchester rubbed a towel over his wet hair, tossing it onto the other bed before he added, "For real this time."

"I know." The girl dropped her gaze to her lap as the lie came out, and she let a false sense of sadness slip over her to add to the realism of her claim.

"Yeah." Sam stopped at his brother's side, and Alex shifted uncomfortably on the bed to find both of the Winchesters focused on her. "Uh, what about you? What happened?"

"Nothing." The word came out as a mumble, and Alex played with the hem of the stiff sheet that covered her brother. "I did what I had to do, that's all." She had to do it; she had to save Gabriel. Right? The doubt prickled at her mind, and Alex plucked uneasily at a loose thread at the memory of Lucifer's cold, rough hands. Was it really worth it?

"And … you're sure you're not hurt?" Sam's voice broke into her thoughts, and Alex blinked as she refocused on the hunters before her.

"Uh … yeah. I'm pretty sure." Alex's hand went back up to her head, fingers dancing gingerly across the back of her skull. "I think I hit my head when I fell, but … but otherwise I'm okay." Her admission felt weak as the room began to spin, and the young hunter rapidly tried to blink it away. "What about you two? Where's, uh, Kali?"

"She went her own way. We've been here waiting all night for you," Sam admitted. "We were getting worried when you didn't call."

"I thought — I thought I …" The girl narrowed her eyes as she thought back to last night; she had called someone, hadn't she? "I must have called Cas," she finally admitted. "Sorry." She bit back a yawn as Sam and Dean exchanged looks, and she quickly asked, "Uh, so how did you hear that Gabriel is dead?"

The Winchesters exchanged looks once again, and Alex tipped her head at the pursed lips and narrowed eyes. "He gave us a DVD." Sam's words were tight, and Alex heard Dean mutter, "Fucking porn," under his breath as he got up off the bed and walked back to the table. Sam frowned after him before he took his brother's seat at Alex's side. "Gabriel told us that if we were watching it, then he was dead," he explained. "But he —" Sam paused, glancing back at Dean before he admitted, "— he gave us an option to trap Lucifer. The horsemens' ring, just like you said."

"Okay, good." Alex gave a curt nod, clearing her dry throat as Sam got to his feet and walked back towards his brother. "So what's the next step, then? We only have two rings."

"War and Famine's," Sam confirmed. He pulled a water bottle out of the mini fridge and tossed it her way, and Alex cracked open the plastic top with a thankful hum. "We've got a lead down in California," he explained as he crossed back over to his bed and picked up his half-packed bag. "We'll leave once you're feeling up to it."

"Feeling up to taking a nap in the car? I'm ready now." Alex swung her feet over the side of the bed, catching herself momentarily on the nightstand as her legs wobbled. "Go check us out, and we can leave now."

The door closed behind Dean, but Sam hesitated, his eyes narrowed in concern at Alex's slow progress. "Are you sure?" he pressed as Alex took a seat back on the bed. "We can wait if you need to rest."

"I've been out for eight hours." Alex scoffed as she forced herself back up to her feet. "I think I've slept enough for a while." Her eyes scanned the room as Sam swung his bag over his shoulder and reached for Dean's. "My stuff — is it in the car?"

"Yeah. Dean threw it in the trunk." The loud blare of a horn had both hunters looking towards the door, and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Speaking of, that must be our ride." Alex made her way out of the motel room, and Sam followed close behind. The Impala sat outside the door, the engine purring as it awaited their arrival.

"Let's go!" Dean hit the horn again, and Alex picked up her pace to climb inside. "Hey," Dean snapped as she yanked the door shut behind her, "Careful. Don't —"

"— hurt Baby," Alex finished, waving off his concern. "I know, I know. Don't worry; I think she can handle it." She reached for her seatbelt as Sam slammed the trunk and joined his brother in the front seat, and once the door was closed, she leaned forward. "Okay, so what's this lead you guys found?"

"Swine flu," Sam explained. "There's only been mild cases reported down in California, but there's been a lot of them. Sounds like it could be Pestilence."

"Huh." Alex pulled a thoughtful face, but the vague description of the epidemic didn't ring a bell. "I don't think I can help you there; doesn't ring a bell. I guess it's as good a lead as any, I suppose."

"But here's the thing." Sam twisted in his seat to look back as her as the Impala sped off down the road. "In most cases, the disease spreads out in a circle from the first patient."

"Patient zero," Alex agreed with a nod.

"Yeah, exactly. But if you actually track the reported cases, it's linear. Always heading in one direction."

"Like … the disease is following in someone's wake." The young hunter lifted her eyebrows in surprise as Sam nodded. "Wow, okay, good work." She shot the Winchester a small smile as Sam turned back to face the road. "Only someone like you could figure that out."

She watched as Sam's head ducked at the compliment, but all he said was, "Thanks." His attention turned over to his brother, and Alex reclined in her seat as their conversation turned to the logistics of their drive.

...

They drove in silence for almost an hour. Alex rested her head against the cool window, half-watching the world fly by as her mind drifted on the edge of sleep. The rolling, jolting movement of the car jarred her already sore muscles, and the stiff leather seats offered little relief. "Alex." Dean's voice drifted through the air, and Alex blinked, pulling her mind back into the waking world. "Alex."

"Hmm?" Alex looked over at the hunter, reaching up to brush back her blonde hair as she looked around; the car was still moving down the road at its steady, uninterrupted pace, and the girl tipped her head, unsure why she was being addressed. "What?"

"Heard anything from Cas?"

Their eyes met in the rearview mirror, and Alex gave her head a confused scratch before she answered. "Huh? Uh, uh, no. How would I have heard anything that you guys haven't?"

She watched as Dean gave a small, noncommittal shrug. "I dunno. I mean, I figured he'd probably call you first, since, ya know, you and him —"

Alex rolled her head back, cutting the Winchester off with a groan. "What are you talking about? I've told you guys — there's nothing between me and him." She watched as the brothers exchanged looks, and she felt her face flush deeply. "I-I'm serious, you guys," she insisted, and her voice grew sharp. "I don't know what's going on."

Dean scoffed, and Alex shifted so she was sitting up straighter as their eyes met once again in the mirror. "Oh come on. Don't give me that shit. I mean, how blind can you be?" The Winchester's voice was light as if joking, but Alex could sense the underlying exasperation.

"I don't know!" Alex felt her voice rise into a wail, and she took a deep breath to calm it down. "I mean, really — does, does Cas even have feelings? He's a-a ten thousand year old angel; how could something like that ever fall for me, you know?" She pointed to herself, and she took a peek at her reflection in the mirror; a baggy, oversized sweatshirt that had once belonged to Dean and a blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, and she quickly turned away. "There's nothing special about me. Nothing. I've done nothing to impress him, I've never saved him, never given him a damn reason to be grateful that I was here …" She trailed off with a sigh, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes.

Silence followed her words, and she cast a glance towards Dean; the Winchester was watching her, lips pursed at the realization that he had hit a sore spot of conversation. "Whatever," he relented. "If you say there's nothing going on, then I believe you."

"Thank you." Alex fell quiet, pressing her forehead back up against the glass window to watch the fields go by. Her heart fluttered slightly as she replayed Dean's words, and she immediately stifled a scoff; she couldn't deny that, yes, it was weird how Cas seemed to be paying attention to her, but for him to be romantic? This time, the scoff slipped past her lips before the young hunter could stop it. From what she could remember, the angel had showed no sign of any romantic interest — no, his attention had to have a different motive. Perhaps one related to her futuristic knowledge.

The Impala slowed down and changed course, and Alex shifted, pulling her feet up and under her. But what if Dean was right? The small voice gnawed at the back of mind, and for the briefest of seconds, the girl let herself imagine that it was true. She wasn't prepared for the whirlwind of emotions that followed, and she curled her fingers into the hem of her sweatshirt as she tried to rein them back in. Excitement was the most immediate, enthused at the prospect that Castiel might love her, but it was quickly overshadowed by trepidation and doubt; was that even something she wanted? Sure, she loved Castiel — he was great — but did she really love love him? An angel and a human; how long could that really last?

The opening chords to Pyromania drifted through the car, growing exponentially louder as Dean cranked up the volume, drumming vigorously on the steering wheel in time with the music. Alex shook her head, clearing her thoughts as she gathered her emotions back under control. At the moment, it didn't matter what Castiel felt; he was miles away, off the grid, while Pestilence was on their radar. The thought had her relaxing, resting her head against the back of the seat. She didn't know what to think, so for now, it was best simply not to.

...

They drove all night and all next morning, stopping only for gas and snacks. Sam and Dean switched off driving, but Alex remained in the backseat, curled up on the leather seats as she sought to catch some sleep. She drifted off in the early hours, waking up only when the engine died. The doors opened and closed, jerking the young hunter from her sleep, and she lifted her head to watch the two brothers circle around to the back of the trunk.

She threw open the door and sat up, unprepared for the sudden wave of nausea that passed over her. She wretched, her stomach roiling angrily, but nothing came up, and the girl rested her head against the door in surprise. "Hey." Sam was at her side in an instant, crouching down so he was level with her face. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I …" Alex squeezed her eyes shut, but the sickness was passing as quickly as it had come on. "I'm fine." She straightened up and slipped out of the car, brushing off Sam's help as she cast a look over at the motel. "We stopping for the day?"

"Yeah." Sam slung her bag over his shoulder, and Alex bit back a protest as he led the way off towards their room; Dean stood there already, key in hand. "At the rate we're going, we'll be in California by the end of tomorrow."

Alex lagged behind, trying to count out the hours left on their drive on her hand as Dean unlocked the motel door. Sam handed Dean Alex's bag before he went back for his own, and Alex stepped inside, pausing a moment to take in her surroundings. Two queen-sized beds sat against the left wall; across from it was a dresser, complete with a tv upon it. Under the front window sat a table with two chairs, and a barebones kitchen set was located in the back by the bathroom. "Huh." Alex kicked the door closed behind her as she ran a hand through her hair. "Not bad, I guess."

"Don't be picky." Dean dropped her bag onto the nearest bed with a scoff. "I don't think we'll be staying at any four star hotels anytime soon."

"Oh please," Alex joked, and she crossed over to sit down next to her things; the bed frame creaked under her weight, and the young hunter frowned. "Not every hotel is run by pagan gods who want to use you as pawns against the archangels."

"What?" She heard Sam chuckle as he entered the room, and he cast Dean a confused look.

"She's being picky," Dean explained as Sam tossed Dean's bag onto the bed next to him. "Again."

"I am not," the hunter retorted, and she turned to look up at Sam. "He's just being paranoid." She pulled her bag closer to her as she drew her legs up onto the mattress, pulling open the zipper as she watched Dean roll his eyes out of the corner of her eyes.

"You know who lives the longest?" she heard him half-joke. "Paranoid people."

"Lies."

"You, uh, you are rather picky." Sam set his bag down on the floor as he took a seat down at the kitchen table, and Alex twisted her face in mock hurt.

It lasted merely a moment before she waved the Winchesters' criticism off. "Sticks and stones, sticks and stones." She lifted her head, sniffing at the air before begrudgingly admitting, "At least this place doesn't smell." She waited until Sam snorted in amusement before she added in a stage whisper, "Unlike you guys."

"Hey. Say that to my face." Dean paused on his way to his brother, his eyebrows lifted as he dared Alex to speak again, and Alex smirked at the hint of playful warning in his gaze.

"Unlike you guys," she repeated, head lifted as she dared the hunter to retaliate.

"I'll show you who smells." Dean moved like lightning, tackling her to the bed, and Alex barely held back a squeal of surprise at the sudden assault. She pounded him on the back, trying to dislodge the heavy, crushing weight. Her knee came up, digging roughly into his stomach, and Dean retaliated by pulling her into a crushing headlock.

The chair creaked as Sam turned to watch them with a roll of his eyes. "You guys are so immature. Hey, knock it off," he added sharply when Alex scrabbled at the iron hold around her neck, and Dean loosened his grip, allowing Alex to struggle free. "She was basically vomiting in the parking lot. Let her breathe."

Dean pulled away, and Alex brushed off Sam's concern with a huff. "I'm fine," she promised, pulling her legs up under her as she sat up on the bed. "I don't know what came over me — a fluke or something. It's nothing."

"If it's a concussion, it's not nothing." Sam's lips set into a tight line, and Alex rolled her eyes. "So just — just take it easy for a while okay?" His attention turned onto Dean, who had gotten up from the bed and dropped into the chair across from him. "Dean, we need to focus on finding Pestilence."

"Hey, relax. He's not going to destroy the world if we take a few hours of downtime." Dean pulled his bag close and dug out his laptop, ignoring Sam's exasperated glance.

"Yeah, well, last time we stopped to relax, we almost died," he retorted sharply, and Alex stifled a snort of laughter at the bluntness of his words.

"All work and no play makes Sammy even more psychotic," she half-sung, and she was rewarded by a low chuckle from Dean. Sam shot her a firm glare, and with a sigh, Alex fell back onto the creaking bed. "Dude, you're so tense. Fine — go amuse yourself with your research. I'll just — I'll just watch something on tv."

...

A few hours lapsed, and Alex busied herself watching a series of old nature documentaries on the boxy, flickering television. As the day stretched towards afternoon and then into the evening, the room grew stifling hot; despite it being spring, the temperature in the American southwest was already climbing far above normal. Alex shifted uncomfortably on the bed, shedding her jacket, and even Sam opted to remove his shirt, muttering a curse under his breath about the faulty state of their air conditioner. At one point, the chair creaked as Dean got to his feet, and Alex watched him leave out of the corner of her eye — even the multi-layered Winchester had stripped down to a thin black t-shirt.

Her program had just reached its final commercial break when Sam groaned, breaking the silence as he leaned back in his chair to stretch. "Find anything yet?"

"Maybe. I don't know." Chair legs squealed as Sam pushed back from the table, and the Winchester nudged at his t-shirt from where it had fallen off of the chair and onto the ground. "I just need to take a few minutes and stretch."

"Understandable." Alex pulled herself up into a sitting position, exhaling in discomfort at how her t-shirt clung to her skin, heavy and warm. "Hey, do you still have that, uh, old ripped tank top? I need something that doesn't have sleeves."

"Uh, yeah. Let me see what I have." Sam crossed over to his bag, and Alex stripped off her t-shirt, eyes closing in momentary bliss at the rush of air across her exposed skin. She adjusted the strap of her sports bra as Sam tossed her an old white tank top. Alex hummed out her thanks, lifting it up so she could study the faded print on the shirt that was several sizes too large for her small frame. Her attention was drawn to the Winchester as he dropped to the ground, and she leaned forward to watch him plant his arms on the worn carpet. "Push-ups?" she guessed, and the hunter grunted out his affirmation. "Isn't it a little hot for that?"

"I plan on taking a long, cold shower after this." Sam pushed himself up, and Alex, bored with her show, watched his muscles bunch and ripple underneath his tanned skin.

"Hey." She clambered off the bed as Sam lowered himself down, and the Winchester paused as Alex placed her hands on his warm back. "Can you lift me?" She pressed down, emphasizing her point, and she felt his chest expand as he drew in a deep breath.

"Easily," the hunter bragged, and Alex took a seat on his back, legs folded up beneath her, hands wrapped around his shoulders to steady herself as the Winchester heaved himself up into the air with a grunt.

Alex felt his arms quiver slightly under the sudden increase in weight, but they didn't buckle, and she whistled in amazement as he slowly lowered himself back down. "That's impressive," she admitted as she was lifted back up once again. "Seriously. How are you even doing this?"

"You're not that heavy," Sam grunted out, and he paused, chest against the ground as he added, "You're what? Barely one twenty?"

Alex tapped her finger on his shoulder to let him know that he was right, and the Winchester pushed himself up as the door swung open. Dean stepped inside, two fast food bags held tightly in his hands and his mouth open wide in the beginning of a sentence, but his words died in his throat as his gaze came to rest on the two of them. "What …?"

"I know, right?" Alex motioned between herself and Sam, tightening her grip around his shoulder as the Winchester shifted. "I mean, how is this even possible?"

"You mean, how is it possible that he's able to lift you, or how is is possible that you and Sam haven't killed each other since I've been gone?" Dean crossed over to the kitchen table and set down the fast food bag, and Sam dropped back down onto the carpet, going lax beneath her as he ceased his workout.

"Uh … both?" Alex shrugged, gripping the Winchester in surprise as he suddenly pulled his knees underneath him, almost sending her sliding off the back.

"Let go." Sam pried her off of him, and Alex slid onto the floor with a small bump. She pushed herself to her feet as the younger brother disappeared into the bathroom, and a moment later she heard the water running.

"Where'd you go?" she inquired, crossing the room to stand at Dean's side. She pulled the smaller of the white bags close, unraveling the folded top.

"Out. It's pie." Dean turned his attention to the other bag and added, "This is dinner."

"Well thanks for ruining the surprise." Alex sank down into one of the seats, stifling a grunt at the stiffness in her back. "I hate this weather," she muttered as Dean crossed over to the fridge to pull out several beers. "I mean, hot is one thing. Hot with a broken air conditioner is another."

"Yeah, well, what are you going to do about it?" Dean cracked open a beer, and Alex reached for the second, her distaste for alcohol outweighed by her desire for something cold. "We should be out of here by tonight, tomorrow at the latest." He slid the second bag over to her, and Alex emptied it out to reveal a handful of individually wrapped tacos. "And, uh, hot sauce," he added as Alex dumped the small packets out onto the table.

The girl slowly unwrapped her food, fingers toying with the waxy covering as she stared down at the hard corn shell. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably, and Alex reluctantly brought a stray strand of cheese up to her mouth, but even it tasted hot and dry. "Yuck." The guttural noise rumbled deep within her throat as she forced herself to take a bite. The shell cracked, spilling its contents down onto the paper below, and Alex let it go, settling to chew on the small amount of meat and cheese that had made it into her mouth.

The shower stopped, and Alex set down her meal as Sam stepped out, dressed only in a pair of jeans. "Hey." He greeted his brother with brief nod as he walked up to them, sitting on the edge of the bed as Dean sank down into the last kitchen chair. "So, I think I found something on Pestilence…"

Alex dropped her gaze to her food, uninterested in their line of conversation as she took stock of the aches and pains in her body. Her queasy stomach was nothing new, but the ache in her upper back kept growing, as if wound up tighter and tighter on an invisible wire. Abruptly, she pushed herself to her feet, almost knocking over her chair. "I'm gonna take a shower," she mumbled when both brothers' attention turned onto her. "And then go to bed. Keep … keep doing your thing."

...

The shower had been less refreshing than she had been expecting; the cold spray hadn't helped the tension in her muscles, and a rush of dizziness had had her sitting on the shower floor, head bowed against the icy water until it had passed. She had crawled out of the shower and dried off, pulling on a pair of Sam's sweatpants and one of Dean's old shirts before she hauled herself to her feet. With a deep breath, Alex stepped back out into the main room and crossed over to her bed. "You okay?" she glanced over at Dean as he spoke, and she collapsed down on the mattress with a groan.

"Yeah, just tired." She rolled onto her stomach, wincing as her shoulder muscles protested. "My shoulders just really … really hurt. Probably pulled something. Or I'm coming down with something."

She buried her face in the pillow, and after a second, she felt the bed dip as Dean sat down beside her. Hands ran up her back, gently massaging her sore muscles. Alex groaned beneath him as his deft fingers worked, and after a minute or two, Dean spoke again. "They're really tight. The hell did you do?"

"Dunno." The memory of being thrown against the wall, pinned there by Lucifer's iron grip, had Alex wincing internally. "I don't … I really don't know."

"Hey, listen." Dean paused in his ministrations, and Alex tipped her head to look up into his face. "Me and Sam've been talking …"

Alex pressed her head back into the pillow, stifling a sigh; that sentence never led to a good conversation. "What?" she asked, her voice muffled by the pillow over her mouth.

"We think it'd be best if you went up to Bobby's." The hands were back, slowly rubbing circles into her sore muscles. "We can handle Pestilence on our own."

"Okay." Alex turned her head to speak, but she kept her eyes closed as the Winchester's warm hands provided some relief to her discomfort. "I guess … I guess it'll be good to see him again." Normally she would have protested at the idea of being sent away, but with the ache in her muscles and the pain in her gut, the idea of confronting the Horseman of Disease seemed less than welcoming.

"Okay." Dean's voice lifted in surprise, and Alex watched the two exchange looks. "You'll, uh, have to take the bus up. Sam and I will keep heading west."

"Fine by me." Alex's gaze fell onto her duffle bag that now lay on the floor, and she picked up her phone to check the time. "When's the next bus out of here?"

"Eight, but you can wait until the morning —" Sam cut off as Alex pushed herself to her feet, and he closed his laptop, fingers drumming on the wooden table. "Alex. You should get some rest before you go."

"I'm not tired." It wasn't a lie; despite the pains, her mind was clear and limbs wide awake. "There's no point in waiting around. Let me get my things and I'll get going."

"Wait, hold up." Dean got to his feet, reaching out to pick up Alex's bag before the young girl could grab it herself. "You're not just walking out like that. If you really are set on going now, I'll drive you to the station." He hoisted her things over his shoulder before Alex could protest, and the girl followed him out of the motel and into the parking lot.

The sun was beginning to go down, sending long shadows across the ground, and Alex climbed into the front of the Impala as Dean placed her things in the trunk. The car purred to life as he joined her, and Alex rested her head against the glass as they began to roll down the street. "Find anything new on Pestilence?" she began.

"Looks like he's moving west." Dean shrugged, unsure what to say. "If this even is him; all that's been reported is swine flu — I mean, why that? W-Why not something worse, you know? It's weird."

"Yeah." Alex slid one hand under her shirt, digging the pads of her finger into her shoulder as a spasm passed through the muscle, and she struggled to keep her voice under control. "Sounds like he's just getting started."

...

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Alex stepped through the front door of Bobby's home, kicking it closed behind her. "Hello?" She dropped her bag onto the ground, stifling a gasp at the violent, twisting pain in her shoulders. "Bobby? It's me."

"Alex?" Bobby wheeled himself into the kitchen, his eyes narrowed in surprise at the sight of her. "What are you doing here?"

"I, uh, took a tumble so Sam and Dean sent me up here while they hunt Pestilence." Alex walked over to him, wincing at the pain in her spine. "How, uh, how are you doing?"

"Fine." Bobby wheeled back in the library, but Alex didn't miss the look of concern that flickered across his worn face. "And yeah, I heard; Dean called this morning to say he and Sam found a demon that could get them to Pestilence; last I heard, they had him tied up somewhere." Bobby turned his chair around to face her as he added, "What do you mean 'took a tumble?' You look half dead on your feet."

I confronted the devil and got my ass kicked. "Uh, it's nothing." Alex nudged at the corner of the rug with her boot. "Long story short, I passed out and guess I banged myself up a bit." She ignored how Bobby scoffed and added, "My back hurts really bad. I don't know what I did, but it's just been getting worse."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it hurts." Alex shrugged off her jacket and turned around, tapping on the back of her shoulder to emphasize her point. "It feels like I'm gonna tear open if I move to much. I — I don't think the bumpy bus ride helped at all." With a sigh, she glanced back towards the kitchen. "I'm going to take a lot of aspirin and maybe go to bed." She watched Bobby nod, and she added, "Do you need anything before I go up for the night?"

"Do I look incompetent to you?" Bobby wheeled past her, and Alex watched him go with a frown, displeased with his sharp retort.

"God. No. Sorry." Alex slung her sweatshirt over her shoulder as she picked up her bag and made her way up the stairs. The going was slow, the heavy duffle bumping against the stairs with each step, and Alex grunted as the jarring movement resonated up to her shoulders. She dropped her bag on the inside of her room and stumbled down to the bathroom.

She ripped the cap off of a bottle of aspirin and swallowed a handful, washing it down with a drink from the faucet. With a bit of work, Alex managed to work her shirt off, examining her back in the mirror with a grimace. The skin was smooth and unaltered, but its vessels were dilated, causing large, red splotches of irritation across her shoulders. The skin was warm to the touch, and the young girl hissed at the sharp jab of pain that coursed up her spine. "What the hell is going on?"

She pressed her palm against it again, frowning at the heat, before she dug a hand towel out of the cabinet and tossed it into the sink. Cold water rushed out of the faucet, soaking the thin, grey fabric, and after a minute, the young hunter wrung it out and laid it across her shoulders. She exhaled, the cold bringing a rush of relief to her skin, and with a sigh, she shut off the lights and returned to her room; maybe some sleep would help clear things up.

...

Sunlight filtered through the dirty windows, catching on the dust particles as it drifted lazily onto the unconscious figure on the bed. The room was silent, broken only by her soft, rhythmic breathing. Slowly, as the light percolated through her eyelids, the girl stirred, her respiration deepening as she teetered on the edge of wakefulness. She could feel her surroundings, soft and warm, and as her brain awoke, she became aware of her own body. It was calm, relaxed, spread out on her stomach with her limbs stretched out behind her; the pain in her shoulders had sunken into a faint, dull ache.

Alex shifted, pleased at the lack of protestation from her muscles, and a faint rustle reached her ears, soft and gentle like the summer wind through the leaves. It sounded like a nice day outside — no, wait. Alex squeezed her eyes together tightly, twisting her head in confusion; she had closed her window last night. The rustle came again, louder, and Alex twitched in discomfort and puzzlement.

Something brushed across her cheek, warm and pliant, yet at the same time course and stiff. Alex's eyes flew open and she bolted up, disorientated by the strange sensation. She was in her room at Bobby's, and its familiar clutter momentarily soothed her fears; she was home, where she was supposed to be. She reached up, running both hands through her blonde hair as her mind whirled, sluggish with sleep, and only when something flickered in the corner of her eye did the hunter turn around.

Black feathers crowded her gaze, and Alex yelped in surprise and fear. She lurched to the side, tumbling off of the bed and landing in a tangle of limbs on the floor. The feathers followed, enveloping her as she landed on the rug, and Alex scrambled to her feet with a panicked, "Bobby!"

The feathers moved with her, and Alex dropped back to her knees, her legs wobbling like jello at the sudden rush of adrenaline. "W-What the hell?" The feathers were still there, and with a shaky hand, Alex reached up to feel them.

They weren't just feathers — they were a whole wing, and they flitted slightly in surprise as Alex tugged on a twisted feather. A twinge ran up her spine, and … no. The hunter buried her hands into the wing, tugging on the feathers, and a small yelp left her lips at the rush of pain. No. "No, no, no. W-What the hell?" Her head snapped to the other side to stare at the second wing, and her hands flew up and over her shoulder, finger dancing across where feather met flesh in a hard, solid joint. "Oh m-my God." Alex watched as the wings flittered on command, fanning slightly, and she reached out to gently touch one of the large black feathers.

It wasn't pure black, she realized as she ran a finger down the vane, and she paused to rub where the black barbs faded into a soft, glowing gold. The wings — her wings — were black and gold. "This is it." Alex's voice trembled as she spoke aloud, and she forced a weak laugh. "I've finally gone crazy. I'm certifiably insane."

"Alex?" Bobby's shout had the hunter snapping out of her thoughts, and she winced at the loud volume of the grumpy man's yell.

"I-I'm coming." Alex pushed herself to her feet, watching how her wings twitched nervously before folding in at her side; she extended one out, and then up, momentarily losing herself in how flawless and smooth her control seemed to be. Another shout from the hunter downstairs, however, had her running down the stairs, almost tripping on the last step in haste. Her wings spread out, catching her balance before she hit the ground, and she slid to a stop on the wooden floor.

Bobby sat in the doorway to the library, concern etched deeply into his face. "What is it?" A shotgun lay in his lap, one hand wrapped tightly around the barrel, and when Alex only stared blankly, he frowned. "You yelled my name. What's wrong?"

"Y-You don't see them?" Alex glanced over her shoulder, and the wings twitched as if to agree with her statement. She twirled in a tight, frantic circle, and her wings flashed out to balance her as she swung back around to face Bobby. "N-Nothing? Nothing at all?"

"The hell you talking about, girl?" Bobby turned and rolled back into the library, and Alex followed, eyes stretching wide in disbelief.

"Talking about — Bobby, I have fucking wings!" Her voice cracked as it rose. "Tell me — tell me I'm not crazy." She pulled her wings in tight against her back, and the feathers scraped against against her tank top, the bristles poking uncomfortably into her back.

"I have no idea what you're going on about." Bobby tossed his shotgun onto his desk before he turned back around to face her. "What do you mean 'wings'? What, you like some kind of angel or something?"

Alex scoffed, pushing away the ridiculous possibility with a roll of her eyes. "Yeah, right. People don't become angels." However, a wave of doubt crashed over her as she tucked one wing over her shoulder to fold up against her chest. She ran her fingers of the arch, feeling her way past the small, soft feathers to the skin beneath. She could feel bones, thin and agile, but as she moved further towards the base, she was met with thick muscle.

"What are you doing?"

"They feel real." Alex let her hands drop back to her side, flushing slightly at how ridiculous it must look to the hunter in front of her. "Is this a dream? Like a fever dream, maybe? Or have I really gone bonkers?" She pulled her wing back behind her, and she added with a forced laugh, "They feel really, really real. I mean, I can feel them with my hands, a-and I can feel my hands on … the wings."

"Come 'ere." Bobby waved her over, and Alex crossed the room, frowning as the old hunter suddenly leaned forward, thrusting his arm past her side. Alex's wings fluttered uncomfortably as his hand pushed straight through the feathers, and she watched in surprise. "Well?"

"Your hand just passed right through them." The tingling sensation in her wings grew, and Alex resisted the urge to draw them away as she stared. "I-I can feel it — sorta. It kind of … tickles? More of a pins and needles feel," she corrected after a second. "It's uncomfortable." She quickly drew her wings away as Bobby leaned back, and after a second she shook them out, feathers ruffling before they pressed flat against her once again. "Weird."

"Huh." With a shrug, Bobby wheeled around to sit at his desk, and Alex frowned at the nonchalantness in his tone. "And so you just woke up with them, huh?"

"Yeah." Alex's frown deepened as he pulled an open book close. "And my shoulders don't hurt anymore, so … you're pretty damn calm about all of this."

Bobby scoffed, and he looked up to meet Alex's eyes. "I've dealt with crazy before."

"Haven't we all?" The familiar, thick accent came from behind her, and Alex spun around in surprise. Crowley stood in the doorway, a glass of scotch in his hand as he looked Alex up and down. "Hello, love. Something different?"

His eyes caught on Alex's wings, and she drew them closer and out of sight. "Y-You see them?" she stuttered.

Crowley's dark eyes glittered in amusement, and he flashed her a smile. "Of course I see them." He swirled his glass before he took a sip. "So. Who was it?"

'I — I don't know what you mean."

"Alex. Get upstairs." A shotgun cocked, and Alex looked over her shoulder to see Bobby, face set into a tight line as he pointed the gun towards the demon. The young hunter hesitated for only a moment before she bolted up the stairs; when Bobby used that tone, there was no room for arguing.

She ran into her room and slammed the door, dropping down onto her bed as she held her breath, listening for any signs that there was trouble downstairs. When nothing came, she let out her breath with a loud puff. Crowley could see her wings — did that mean they were real? Deep inside, she knew they were real, but the demon's confirmation has shattered the thin wall of doubt that had sealed off that realization.

So then what the hell was happening? People didn't just become angels — right? So what was she? Castiel would know. Alex's gaze snapped over to her phone, and she scrambled across the bed to reach it. Bobby had no idea, but the angel always knew stuff like this; at the very least he would know where to start. She dialed Cas' number, phone pressed tightly against her face as she leaned forward. The line rang once, twice, and then three times, and the young hunter's worry grew when her call was directed to voicemail. Where was he? She tossed her phone onto her pillow, concern flitting through her chest. "Castiel?" she whispered out her prayer. "Where are you? You — you need to be okay, and you need to call me back. I think there's something wrong with me."

No answer came, and Alex's shoulders fell. Her feathers curled against the sheets, and, unsure what else to do, the girl turned her attention to her new wings.

...

She lost track of how long she spent studying her feathers, but the shout of, "What the hell is wrong with you?" had her looking up in surprise. That was Dean's voice; when had the Winchesters arrived? Her wings flicked in confusion, and Alex quickly stilled them with a frown, displeased by the already familiar feel to her foreign limbs.

She made her way down the stairs, head tipping to one side as she stepped onto the first floor landing. She could see Bobby sitting at his desk, and Sam leaned against the counter in the kitchen. As she moved into the library, she found Dean, standing in the doorway between the study and kitchen, arms crossed as he glared at his brother. "Dean," Sam was insisting, but the Winchester wasn't listening.

"No, don't 'Dean' me," he snapped. "I mean, you — you have had some stupid ideas in the past, but this —" He turned to look at Bobby, his green eyes flashing in anger. "Did you know about this?"

"What?" Bobby recoiled in surprise, offended by the brother's tone.

"About Sam's genius plan to cram the devil down his throat!" Dean's gaze flickered across Alex, and the girl slipped past him into the kitchen, head ducked as she snuck to the fridge and pulled out a drink. She peeked behind her to see the grumpy hunter give a small nod, and Dean's hands flew up in the air. "Well, thanks for the heads up!"

"Hey. This ain't about me," Bobby shot back, and Alex hurried around the long way to get back to the study, unwilling to pass by both Sam and Dean again lest she get caught in the crossfire of their little spat.

Dean had turned back to his brother, his arms crossed once again. "You can't do this."

"That's the consensus," Sam agreed tightly, but before he could say anything else, Dean nodded.

"All right. Awesome. Then, end of discussion." Dean turned and stalked back into the living room, and Alex slipped by him to sit on the couch as she cracked open her drink. She watched as he turned to her, mouth open as he got ready to speak, but before he could say anything, his phone rang. "This isn't over," he added, pointing to his brother before he pulled out his phone to answer. "Hello?" Alex watched as his face furrowed in worry, and his next word had her rising to her feet. "Cas?"

"Cas?" she repeated, bu Dean brushed her off, turning away so he could hear the angel better.

"Are you okay?" He paused, listening, and a frown creased his face. "S-So a hospital? You want to elaborate?" Alex narrowed her eyes in concern; Cas in a hospital? That wasn't good at all. "Uh, well, I got to tell you man — you're just in time. We figured out a way to pop Satan's box." He hesitated as Castiel asked a question, and he shifted his phone to his other ear. "It's a long story, but look — we're going after Pestilence now. So if you want to zap over here —" He was immediately cut off, and his frown immediately deepened. "Actually, yeah," he reluctantly admitted. "Sure." He motioned Alex closer, and the girl tilted her head as he held out the phone. "Cas wants to talk."

"Uh, okay." Alex eagerly took the phone; she wanted to speak to him, too. Her wings twitched in concern, an ever-present reminder of her situation, and with one last glance back towards the Winchesters, she held the phone up against her ear. "Hello?"

"Alex?" Castiel's low voice was laced with concern, and Alex heard him groan slightly in pain as he moved. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Cas." Alex hurried out of the room, slipping up the stairs to get away from prying ears as a dry laugh escaped her mouth; how far that was from the truth.

"I got your message." The angel's voice deepened in anger, and Alex pulled up short, eyes narrowed. "What the hell were you thinking?" He must have sensed her confusion, because he immediately quoted, " 'It kind of involves Gabriel and Lucifer'?"

Alex closed her eyes as she recognized the words from her message. "I'm fine," she promised as she stepped inside her room, kicking the door closed behind her. "I knew what I was doing."

"If you truly knew what you were doing, you wouldn't be anywhere near Lucifer," Castiel snapped, and Alex flinched at his sharp words. "Or any of my brothers, for that matter. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that maybe I should save Gabriel's life!" Her own voice rose in a retort, and she dropped down on her bed with a huff. "I thought you'd maybe be happy about that."

"You risked yours."

"Of course I did! But what else was I supposed to do?" Alex curled her wings around her before brushing them away in disgust. "He would have died if I hadn't stepped in!"

"Better him than you!"

Alex froze, her mouth slack with shock. Her response died in her throat, leaving her silent. "You … you'd let your own brother die?" she whispered.

"If it meant saving your life, then yes." Castiel's voice dropped, mimicking Alex's softer pitch, and after a second or two he sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout. You called me a little while ago. Is everything okay?"

"I don't — I don't know." Alex's voice trembled, and she cleared her throat to regain control. "Cas … I think there's something wrong with me."

"Wrong?" Alex could hear the frown in his voice, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the angel's tone grew dark. "What happened? Was it Lucifer?"

"What? No, no, nothing like that." Alex looked back at her wings with a shake of her head; no, Lucifer couldn't do something like that — he wouldn't. "I thought I was just crazy because Bobby had no idea what I was talking about, but then Crowley said he could see them, too, and I —"

"Slow down." Castiel cut into her ramblings, and Alex clamped her mouth shut. "Alex, tell me what's going on."

"Going on? I have wings, Cas. Like, what the hell?!" Her voice dropped into a whispered, and she added, "I'm scared. What do I do?"

Her question was met with silence, and after a moment or two, she heard Castiel let out a forlorn sigh. "I'm sorry," he murmured, and Alex had to strain her ears to hear him. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

" 'Happen like this'?" Alex spat out his words, anger masking her fear. "Happen like what? What the hell does that mean?" She heard a bed creak, and her voice sharpened. "Cas!"

"I'll explain everything when I find you. I promise." Castiel let out a pained groan as he tried to move, and Alex pushed herself to her feet.

"Hey, hey. No. Cas. Sit back down, you hear me? You're in a hospital, man." Her wings flicked angrily, and her eyes narrowed. "No. You stay there, and I'll come to you, okay? What — what the hell happened?"

The bed groaned again, but this time she heard the angel let out a groan as he sank back down. "I've lost all of my power. My batteries are drained." The words were little more than a mumble, pulled down with defeat. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Just tell me where you are, and I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you." The angel sighed, and a moment later he said, "I'm at St. Luke's Hospital near Delacroix Island. If you're in Sioux Falls, it shouldn't take you long."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay." Alex grabbed her bag off of her floor and slung it over her shoulder, wincing in surprise as the fabric passed through her wings. "Just stay where you are, and I'll be there as soon as possible." She hung up and jumped down the stairs. "Hey. I have to go." She tossed Dean his phone as she stepped into the library, and the hunters looked up in surprise.

"Go?" Dean repeated, and Alex gave a curt nod.

"St. Luke's Hospital in Louisiana. That's where Cas is, and I'm going to get him. So I'm gonna need a ride to the bus station" She scooped the keys to the Impala and tossed them to Dean, pausing momentarily to look over at Bobby. "Listen," she began as his eyes flashed, "this is important. I have no idea what the hell is wrong with me — neither do you. Cas … he sounded like he might have the answers. I have to find him." She backed away, hurrying off towards the door. "He's the only one who can fix me."