Sam looks down at the sleeping woman lying next to him. It was the middle of the night, he and Dean were hiding from angels and demons, and what was he doing? Staring at the ceiling, thinking about this woman who now had all his warning bells going off. He sits up quietly in the bed, picks up his cell phone, and walks into the bathroom.

"This had better be damn important. Do you know what time it is?"

"Bobby, I'm sorry. "He stares at his reflection in the small, dull mirror, running his hands through his hair.

"Where are you and your idjit brother?"

"We're…staying busy. I'm calling because…I met a woman."

"You met a woman?" Bobby Singer interrupts Sam, practically screaming at him. The Winchester brothers would be the death of him, he was almost sure of it. "You sound like your brother."

"Bobby, just listen. I met a woman, who has the protection charm tattooed…, on her back."

"Well, wohoo. And you wake me up at three in the morning to tell me this?"

"No, but, Bobby, I don't think she's just any woman. Have you ever heard of Darcey Laroque?"

"Darcey, huh? I knew a Darcey once; husband was a friend of your father's. But I haven't seen her in years. Pretty young blond."

"With dark blue eyes?"

"That'd be her. And her husband isn't with her?"

"I hope not. That would make things, awkward." He guessed he could add "hiding from enraged husbands" to his list. Sam knew he should have listened to his intuition. If this was the same Darcey, that knew both Bobby and his father, then she was a hunter. Which meant, she was most likely on a hunt. "She's with a friend of hers, Alex…"

"Alex Miller. Sam, the three of them are hunters. Damn good hunters, too. You and your brother watch out."

************

Dean didn't sleep much. Hadn't slept much since being pulled out of hell. A few hours here and there, with lots of black coffee to keep him awake. He'd sleep one day, maybe when he was dead. It made his life interesting, to say the least. He lay in his bed, watching Alex asleep in hers. That was a first for him; a woman spending the night with him, yet not with him. She looked peaceful, in his grey shirt, and curled under the blanket.

So when she started tossing in her sleep, he was completely surprised. When she woke with "No!" sitting straight up in bed, he was across the small space between them before he even realized it.

"Alex, are you ok?" Dean asks, putting his hand on her shoulder. He could feel her pulse racing.

Alex blinks her eyes a few times, having trouble realizing where she is. She grabs on to Dean's hand; it was something warm, and real, and comforting. "I…I'm sorry. Bad dream."

"Sweetheart, I've had bad dreams. And then I've had one of those dreams. Are you ok?"

Alex finally looks at Dean, into his warm green eyes. John was right about his son; he may appear as tough nails, but he had a good heart. It was one of the things John worried about with Dean. He was so willing to help anyone else that he forgot to take care of himself. He had told her once, "Alex, you are so much like my oldest son; you and Dean want to defend the world, but you forget about yourselves." She often wondered how Darcey and Sam were alike, because to her, they were complete opposites.

"Alex, talk to me," Dean shakes her a little.

"I'm sorry. " Alex bit her lip, looking at Dean sitting on the edge of the bed. It broke her heart to think of what would happen to him, and his brother, if she and Darcey were to complete Zachariah's job. "Just, give me a minute."

Dean was worried. Alex hadn't stopped shaking. There were fine tremors shooting through her. He held one of her hands in both of his, watching her face. The fire in her eyes had dimmed, and she was taking short, shallow breaths. Whatever she had been dreaming about had scared the hell out of her. Which scared the hell out of him.

"Dean," Alex looks up at him. She had come to her decision tonight. "There is something I have to ask you. And I don't think that you're going to like it."

**************

6 days ago

"I found them," Darcey says, passing a sheet of paper across the table to Alex, and sliding into the booth. "It was not that hard. They are still using known past aliases."

Alex looks up from her coffee, the dark circles under her eyes standing out like bruises against her pale skin. "Maybe they want to be found?" She scans the list of credit card transactions. If things hadn't gotten so bad for them, she would have laughed at the names. They reminded her of happier times.

"Maybe they have a little more to worry about then new names?" Darcey was worried about her friend. She hadn't slept well in the past four nights. They had disappeared themselves, which was Alex's specialty. Darcey could find anyone, and Alex could make anyone disappear. They had stopped at home very briefly, to restock on cash and equipment. No credit cards, no bank account access, no cell phones, even the GPS had to go. And they had hex bags everywhere: no less than two of them on their person at any one time, stuffed all over the SUV, and in bags.

Before going off the grid, Darcey had called a friend of theirs, another hunter. It seemed that not only were the Winchester's on the angels' most wanted list, but also on the demons'. While they both had protection charms tattooed on themselves (Darcey's worked into a tribal sign on her back and Alex's hidden among stars across her ribs) the only known way to hide from angels was with the bags.

"So, what are we going to do?" Darcey asks.

"I don't see that we have a choice, Darcey. We have to go after them. It's us or them, and that damn angel knew it. We can't realistically hide forever."

"I doubt it will be 'forever' Alex. It would seem that the world is about to end."

"Don't make jokes about this. You know what I mean."

"This would kill Brian. And John would be so disappointed in us."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but John and Brian are both dead."

"Harsh, Alex." Darcey stands up, brushing out her pants. "I will be waiting for you outside."

Darcey storms out of the diner, and into the rainy afternoon. Alex knew she was being harsh, but she didn't think Darcey realized how serious their situation was. They wouldn't just be in hiding for a few days. They would become what they had spent the last eight years hunting; fugitives. She reaches into her purse, pulling out a few dollars for the bill, looks up to catch the waitress's eye, and finds herself staring across the diner into a pair of pale blue eyes.

"You cannot do this," she hears, shaking her head to clear it. She could swear it came from the man, only it was in her head. She needed sleep, she thinks to herself, walking out into the rain. They would both miss home. They would probably end up in a big city, which she hated. But cities were easier to disappear in than small towns. Grabbing the door handle, and climbing in, she sighs, the breath she'd been holding since hearing the voice escaping from her.

"You cannot do what it is you are thinking about," the man from the diner says behind them.

Darcey and Alex turn around to find a man in a trench coat sitting calmly in the back of their SUV.

"Who are you?" Darcey asks, pointing her gun at him.

"My name is Castiel. And I am an angel of the Lord."