My thanks again for making it this far. And I'd like to thank Zarza for editing my French, of which there is a bit in this chapter. But no worries, the translations are at the end of the chapter. Read on, and enjoy! :D

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"Sam, what the hell?" Dean asks, looking from his brother to the prone Darcey. "They're here to help us!"

"Then they have a strange way of doing it!" Sam snaps at Dean.

"Alex, écoute moi. Sam m'a attaqué. tu dois me croire. Il est dangereux ; nous devons les dénoncer*." Darcey looks up at her friend. She wasn't sure if the brothers knew French, but she was betting they didn't. And the only way she knew to get Alex to see things her way was to have her see a threat. Sam attacking a woman? That was a threat.

"He what?" Alex exclaims, looking from Sam's confused face to Darcey's frightened one. She backs slowly away from Dean, setting her bag down, and drawing her gun. She points her gun from Sam, to Darcey, then back again, keeping the wall at her back. What on earth could have happened in the few hours Darcey and Sam were alone? "Darcey, why would he have attacked you?"

"Puisqu'il est une menace, voilà pourquoi. Tu ne peux pas le voir? Dans ses yeux ? Alex, s'il te plaît***." Darcey stands up, holding her side. There were red marks around her throat and right wrist.

Out of the corner of her eye, Alex catches Dean making a break for her and her gun, and she turns to face him. "Dean, I don't want to hurt you, but I will." He backs off, watching her carefully. Unlike a lot of people he came across, Alex knew how to handle a gun; held in both hands, bracing herself, aware of her surroundings. He studies the room, noticing the one made bed, and the other with the rumpled sheets, two suitcases, a few various items of clothes, the knocked over chair, and two guns sitting in a separate corners of the floor. Two guns and neither of them was Sam's.

"Alex, sweetheart, I don't think..."

"Now is not the time for 'sweetheart', Dean."

Sam watches his brother studying the room. Why hadn't he immediately gone after Alex? Dean could take her, no problem, be it in a fist fight or a gun fight. But he was just standing there, watching her watch him. He couldn't quite read the look on Alex's face, but it wasn't fear. He was sure of that. It looked, to Sam, who was staring down yet another gun that night, like suspicion. Only not directed at him.

"Are you just going to stand there all evening, Alex? Or are we going to do what we came here for?" Darcey crosses the small space, putting her hand on her friend's shoulder. "You have your answer, no?"

With her gun still trained on Sam, and looking at Darcey, Alex notices a few things herself. Like how there weren't any signs of a struggle, how both of Darcey's guns were out, and the smallest bit of excitement in Darcey's eyes. "Sam, what was the last thing Darcey said to you?"

Sam, with a puzzled look on his face, turns to Dean, who just shrugs. "Umm, what do you mean?"

"Before your brother and I walked through that door, what was the last thing Darcey said to you?" Alex asks, looking into her friend's eyes, catching them as they narrow slightly.

"'Show time.'" Sam answers, then watches in disbelief as Alex, with a knee to her gut, and an upper cut with her gun, knocks her friend out cold.

"She was never very good at poker." Alex says with a shrug.

"What the hell was that about?" Dean asks, moving to Sam's side, checking for injuries.

"Dude, I'm fine. And I don't know."

"If it's what I think it is, we don't have much time. Here, tie her up," Alex says, throwing Dean a pair of handcuffs, and then pulling her computer out of her bag. "I need about fifteen minutes, then we need to get the hell out of here."

The brothers stare at each other for a minute before Dean Moves to follow Alex's instructions.

"That's it? Just like that, you don't need an explanation?" Sam looks at his brother.

"She has her reasons, Sammy. Something about angels and making us disappear. Alex, what the hell?"

With a sigh, Alex stares at her computer screen. "I think Darcey was going to turn you two over to Zachariah. Why, I don't really know. It was her idea to save you."

"You said there was more to your story, and that Sam and I should be together to hear it." Dean sits down on the bed, next to Alex, watching her type. She didn't really look like a computer nerd to him, but she definitely knew what she was doing. He couldn't follow as she moved quickly from website to website.

"Sam, how much did Darcey tell you?" she asks, looking up into Sam's perplexed face.

"Umm, that you were friends of our father's, and that Zachariah sent you. Dean, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? And why are you sitting there so calmly?" Sam runs his hands through his hair, pacing across the dingy motel floor.

"OK, condensed version? Yes, we were friends of your fathers. Me and Darcey's husband, more than Darcey. But that isn't the important part. Apparently, we were included in a book to be used as future pawns, to hunt you and your brother down. And this is taking longer than I thought. We need to get out of here, now." Alex pulls out her phone, and makes a quick call.

"How are we going to get out of here?....Oh." Dean asks, only to be greeted by Castiel's blue eyed gaze.

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(*Alex, listen to me. Sam attacked me. You have to believe me. He is dangerous; we must turn them in.)

(***Because he is a threat, that is why. Can you not see it? In his eyes? Alex, please.)