At Hell's Gates

by mrsemmettcullen12

What if Sam had a twin sister? This is the story of Dean and Sam with a sister, Alex.

40. Don't Stand So Close to Me

This is my first story, so please be nice. Tell me what you think.

I do not own any of the characters (except for Alex) and I do not own any of the storylines.

Chapter 40

Alex cringed in the backseat of the Impala as Sam pushed the car to 100 mph, driving straight on the line in the middle of the road. Sam glanced over at Dean.

"Ruby's gonna meet us in Cheyenne. She's been tracking some leads," said Sam.

Dean raised his eyebrows from the passenger seat and Sam sighed.

"Look, I know she's not your favorite person, but if she can help us get to Lilith-"

"Hey, Sam, work with Ruby or don't, I don't really give a rat's ass anymore."

"What's your problem?" asked Sam, looking over at Dean once again.

"Pamela didn't want anything to do with this and we dragged her back into it, Sam," answered Dean.

Sam paused for a split second.

"She knew what was at stake."

Alex scoffed, looking at her twin brother with disgust written all over her face.

"Oh, yeah, saving the world. And we're doing such a damn good job at it," said Alex.

Sam shook his head at her.

"I'm tired of burying friends, Sam," said Dean, looking out his passenger side window.

Sam licked his lips before speaking once again.

"Look, we'll follow Lilith's trail," said Sam.

"Like I said, I'm just getting tired," said Dean.

"Well, get angry," said Sam.

He looked over at his brother one last time before turning his attention fully to the road in front of them.

A few hours later, Sam unlocked their motel room door, letting Alex and Dean walk inside first.

"Ah, home crappy home," said Dean.

He set his stuff down on the nearest table and turned to face the room as Sam flipped on the light switch. All three of their eyes widened as they say Uriel standing only a few feet in front of them, Castiel standing next to him.

"Ah, the Winchesters," said Uriel, an evil looking smirk on his face.

"Oh, come on!" yelled Dean, throwing up his hands in anger and frustration.

"You're needed," said Uriel, looking pointedly at Dean.

Dean raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Needed? We just got back from needed!" he yelled.

"Now, you mind your tone with me."

"No, you mind your own damn tone with us," threatened Dean, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer to Uriel.

Sam ran forward, sticking his arm out to stop Dean from moving any closer to Uriel.

"We just got back from Pamela's funeral," explained Alex, stepping forward to join her brothers.

"Pamela. You know, psychic Pamela? You remember her. Cas, you remember her, you burned her damn eyes out. Remember that? Good times!" yelled Dean, very sarcastically.

Castiel finally acknowledged them by looking over at Dean, but he still said nothing and no emotion whatsoever showed on his face at all.

"Yeah, and then she died saving one of your precious seals. So maybe you can stop pushing us all around like chess pieces for five freaking minutes!" yelled Dean.

Uriel just looked amused.

"We raised you out of Hell for our purposes."

"Yeah, and what were those again? What exactly do you want from me?"

"Well, let's start with gratitude."

"Dean, we know this is difficult to understand," said Castiel.

Uriel turned and gave him a look.

"And we don't care."

Castiel stood ramrod straight and looked at nothing after Uriel gave him a stern look. Alex looked at the both of them curiously.

"Seven angels have been murdered and the last one was just killed earlier tonight."

"Demons?" asked Dean.

"How are they doing it?" asked Alex, still looking over at Castiel curiously.

"We don't know," answered Uriel, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, but what do you want us to do about it, exactly?" asked Sam, motioning between himself and his siblings.

"I mean, a demon with the juice to ice angels has to be out of our league, right?" asked Alex, now looking over at Uriel again.

"We can handle the demons, thank you very much," said Uriel.

Castiel looked over at the three siblings once again.

"Once we find whoever it is," said Castiel.

"So you need our help hunting a demon?" asked Dean, walking over and taking a seat at the small kitchen table in the motel room.

Castiel walked up to join Uriel now.

"Not quite. We have Alistair."

"Great. He should be able to name your murderer," said Dean.

"But he… won't talk. Alistair's will is very strong. We've arrived at an impasse," explained Castiel.

Dean nodded.

"Yeah, well, he's like a black belt at torture. You guys are way entirely out of your league," said Dean.

"And that's why we've come to his student," stated Uriel, looking directly over at Dean.

Dean's face hardened.

"You happen to be the most qualified interrogator we've got on tap."

Alex pulled her bottom lip into her mouth while she watched Dean look down at the floor.

"Dean. You're our best hope," said Castiel.

"No. You can't ask me to do this, Cas, not this," answered Dean, looking over at the two angels.

Castiel looked confused and a little bit concerned as Uriel walked forward, getting closer to Dean.

"Who said anything…about asking?"

Suddenly, Sam and Alex heard the flap of angel wings and when they looked around the motel room a split second later, Dean, Castiel and Uriel were all gone. Sam sucked in a deep breath as Alex sighed deeply.

"Damn it!" yelled Sam, running his hands over his face in frustration.

Castiel stood behind Dean as Dean looked in through the small glass window in the door, looking at Alistair chained up and bound to a large structure, a huge Devil's Trap above and under his feet. Dean sighed and turned away, heading for the door.

"Where's the door?" he called out.

"Where are you going?" asked Castiel, not even turning around to watch Dean try to leave.

"Back to good old Cheyenne, thank you very much," answered Dean.

Suddenly, Uriel appeared directly in his path, shaking his head.

"Angels are dying, boy."

"Everyone's dying these days. And hey, I get it, you're all powerful and you can make me do whatever you want. But you can't make me do this," said Dean, turning back to face Castiel once again.

"This is too much to ask, I know. But we have to ask it of you," said Castiel, stepping over towards Dean until he was standing in front of him once again.

Dean looked at Castiel for a few seconds before turning to face Uriel once again.

"I would like to talk to Castiel alone please."

Uriel looked over Dean's shoulder at Castiel.

"I think I'll go seek… revelation. We might have some further orders."

Dean nodded and smirked sarcastically.

"Well, get us all some doughnuts while you're out there."

Uriel chuckled, his white teeth bright against his dark skin.

"Oh, this one just won't quit, will he? I think I'm starting to like you, boy."

Uriel disappeared literally in the blink of an eye and Dean was startled, but composed his facial expressions as he turned back to face Castiel. He walked towards him, stopping only a couple feet in front of him.

"What's going on, Cas? Since when does Uriel put a leash on you?" asked Dean, raising his eyebrows.

"My superiors have begun to question my sympathies," answered Castiel.

"Your sympathies?"

"I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You, specifically. They feel I've begun to express emotions, doorways to doubt. And this can impair my judgment."

"Well, tell Uriel or whoever… They do not want me doing this, trust me on this one, alright?"

"Want it, no. But I've been told that we need it to happen."

"Cas, if you ask me to open that door and walk through it, you will not like what walks back out."

"For what it's worth, I would give anything not to have you do this."

Dean closed his eyes, his lips trembling as he gave into the shaking that was currently racking his whole entire body.

As Castiel opened the door, Dean walked inside slowly, wheeling a large cart in front of him as he walked. The cart was covered up with a sheet and Alistair smirked, his breathing wheezy as he saw Dean walk inside the room, Castiel shutting the door closed behind Dean. Alistair began singing a showy song as Dean wheeled the cart to the edge of the Devil's Trap drawn on the floor in white chalk. He pulled off the cloth to reveal all kinds of different items. Alistair stopped singing and began chuckling as he took in the sight of Dean with his cart beside him. Dean ignored him completely, his face a mask of stone as Alistair chuckled.

"I'm sorry. This is a very serious, very emotional situation for you. I really shouldn't laugh, it's just that I'm, I mean, are they completely serious?" asked Alistair, currently staring Dean down now.

Dean glared at Alistair as he stood in front of him now.

"You get one chance. One. Now, tell me who's killing the angels. I want a name," said Dean.

"You think I'll see all of your scary tools and toys and spill my guts? I don't think so."

"Oh, you'll spill your guts one way or another. I just didn't want to ruin my shoes."

Alistair chuckled once again, smirking.

Dean walked away, stepping over to his table to grab some supplies.

"Come on, you've gotta want a little payback for all the pokes and prods I gave to you. No? Then how about for all the things I did to your father?"

Dean stopped working and looked up, his face hardening.

Sam looked over at Alex, who was sound asleep on the bed they shared, curled up into a ball. He smiled a small smile and sighed as he walked over to open the motel room door, revealing Ruby on the other side of it.

"Ugh, I can still smell them. Seriously, Sam, I'm not exactly dying to tangle with angels again," said Ruby, walking into the motel room and leaning against the kitchen table as she looked over at Sam.

"I need you to find out where they took Dean," said Sam.

Ruby raised an eyebrow, setting her bag down in one of the four chairs around the table.

"I'm not exactly sure I see the problem here. You know they have Alistair strung up six ways till Sunday. Dean cuts himself a slice, Al's reduced to a quivering heap, and the good guys get the goods, what's wrong with that?" she asked him.

"He can't do it," answered Sam, looking down at the floor as he spoke.

Ruby glanced over at him.

"Look, I get it, you don't want him going all torture master again."

Sam looked up at the ceiling, taking in a deep breath before he looked over at Ruby again.

"No, I mean, he can't do it. He can't get the job done. Something happened to him downstairs, Ruby. He's not what he used to be, he's not strong enough."

"And you are."

Sam took in a deep breath as he looked over at Ruby.

"I will be."

"I had your pop on my rack for close to a century," taunted Alistair.

"Just give me a demon's name, Alistair," said Dean, ignoring his comments about his father.

Alistair ignored Dean's request, so Dean turned back to his torture table full of instruments, shrugging off his favorite jacket as he did so.

"I couldn't break him no matter how many times I offered him the same exact deal I always offered you. I'd put down my blade if only he picked one up. I pulled out all the stops, but John, he was… made of something unique. The stuff of full-blown heroes. And then came Dean. Oh, Dean Winchester, I thought I was up against it again."

Alistair sighed as Dean took a sip from his bottle of whiskey.

"But Daddy's little girl, he broke. He broke in thirty. Oh, just not the man your daddy wanted you to be, huh, Dean?"

Dean set down the whiskey bottle forcefully on his table as Alistair smirked once again.

"No, you weren't," whispered Alistair.

Dean grabbed a stone goblet from his table and then grabbed a huge gallon jug full of holy water. He poured it into the goblet until the goblet was completely full to the brim.

"Now we're getting somewhere, but come on. Holy water? Grasshopper, you're gonna have to get creative to impress me," taunted Alistair.

Dean smirked and sucked in a deep breath as he looked over at Alistair.

"You know something, Alistair? I could still dream, even in Hell, and over and over and over, you know what I dreamt? I dreamt of this moment."

Dean grabbed a syringe and a needle from off of his table full of instruments and began putting the needle on top of the syringe.

"And believe me, I've got a few ideas."

Dean's face hardened at his last statement as he stuck the complete syringe into the goblet of holy water. He filled the syringe up to the top with the holy water as Alistair looked on curiously. Dean squirted a little of the water off out of the syringe to make sure it was working properly. He walked over to stand directly in front of Alistair, smirking evilly as he held up the syringe full of holy water.

"Let's get started," smirked Dean.

A few minutes later, Dean set the empty syringe down onto his table, looking back at Alistair, who looked sickly now.

"Let me know if you want some more of that because there's definitely plenty left."

"Go directly to Hell. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars," said Alistair.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, smirking.

Sam glanced back over to where Alex was still sound asleep, her back facing them. But Alex was fully awake, listening to everything, her eyes wide as she listened to Ruby's spell, trying to locate where Dean was. Ruby's eyes were black as night as she spoke, setting the map on fire with a candle she had lit. Sam looked worried and Ruby rolled her eyes.

"Relax, the fire's our friend. Besides, the only part of the map we even need is the where's Dean part. Out," said Ruby.

The flames immediately subsided, leaving only a small portion of the map intact, right in the center. Ruby pointed to the piece of the map still intact.

"There. Your brother's there," she said.

She wiped her hands off on her pants as she walked over to her bag.

"You know, it's a good thing that angels aren't too concerned with hiding all of their dirty business or else we'd be shit out of luck. Not used to being spied on, I mean, who'd be stupid enough to try?" asked Ruby, shrugging her shoulders.

"Ruby, it's been weeks. I need it," whispered Sam.

Alex's forehead wrinkled in confusion as she tried to figure out what her twin brother was saying to Ruby.

"You don't seem too happy about it," said Ruby, shrugging her shoulders.

Sam stepped over closer to her, beginning to sound distraught.

"You think I want to do this? This is the last thing I…"

Sam trailed off as he sat on the free bed, the one where Dean would normally be sleeping by now.

"But I need to be strong enough," finished Sam, looking over at Ruby from his new sitting position.

Ruby sighed and walked over to him. Alex heard the bed creak, so she assumed Ruby was either sitting next to him or climbing onto his lap.

"She's probably sitting on his lap, the slut," whispered Alex to herself.

She slowly rolled over, keeping her eyes closed as she did so. She opened them slightly to see what was happening. She saw Ruby sitting on Sam's lap.

"It's okay, Sammy, it's okay. You can have it," reassured Ruby.

Alex cringed as she watched Ruby lean forward and kiss Sam on the lips. Alex only opened her eyes again when she heard them stop kissing. She watched as Ruby pulled out a small knife she kept hidden in her boot. Sam leaned back and watched Ruby as she cut herself on her arm, right below the crease in her elbow. Ruby licked her lips as blood ran from her fresh wound. Sam looked at her face and Ruby shrugged, nodding her head. Sam took in a deep breath and grabbed Ruby's arm roughly. He lowered his head and began sucking the blood from her wound as Ruby looked on, smiling. Alex closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry at the monster that her brother was slowly becoming.

"It's okay, Sam," whispered Ruby, an evil looking smirk on her face as she stroked the back of Sam's head while he sucked on her arm.

Dean grabbed a knife and Alistair chuckled as Dean poured holy water over the knife's blade.

"Do you really think that this is gonna fix you? Give you some closure? Oh, that's sad. That's really sad," said Alistair.

Dean ignored him and walked right up to him, glaring at him. As Dean continued to look at Alistair's face, he stabbed Alistair right in the stomach. Alistair groaned in immense pain and Dean listened as the blade sizzled. Alistair grit his teeth as he spoke to Dean.

"I carved you into a new animal, Dean. There is no going back."

"Maybe you're right. But now it's my turn to carve," replied Dean.

He stuck the blade even deeper into Alistair's body and Alistair groaned with the added pain. Alistair cried out and his cries caused Dean to miss the turning of the gear that allowed a small, but steady drip of water to begin leaking from the pipes above them. The water began dripping slowly onto the Devil's Trap located on the concrete floor.

A few minutes later, Dean finally pulled the blade out of Alistair's body. Alistair's head lolled down and Dean rested his hand with the knife in it above Alistair's head. He used his other hand to hold up Alistair's head so he could look him in the eyes. Blood was dripping from Alistair's mouth as Dean looked him over and Alistair began chuckling once again.

"You know, it's your professionalism that I respect so much here."

Dean let go of Alistair's face and walked back over to his torture table. Alistair smirked and spit some of the blood from his mouth out onto the concrete floor.

Outside the torture room, the lights flickered above Castiel's head. He felt a presence behind him and without turning around, he knew immediately who it was.

"Anna," stated Castiel.

Anna walked around to face Castiel.

"Castiel. Why are you letting Dean do this?" she asked him, cutting straight to the chase with him.

"He's doing God's work," answered Castiel, turning away from Anna's forceful gaze.

"Torturing? That's God's work now? Stop him, Castiel. Please. Before you ruin the one real weapon you have."

Castiel stuck his hands in the pockets of his tan trench coat that he was always wearing and sighed, still not facing her.

"Who are we to question the will of God?"

"Unless… this isn't His will."

"Then where did the orders come from?" asked Castiel, looking up at the sky briefly.

"I have no clue. One of our superiors, maybe. But not Him."

Back inside the torture room, Dean splashed a glassful of holy water onto Alistair's bleeding face. Alistair gargled in pain as the holy water hit him. More blood poured from his mouth, but Dean's face was still like stone.

"Who's murdering the angels?" asked Dean.

Alistair gasped for breath as the holy water remained in his mouth.

"The Father you love, you think He wants this? You think that He would ask this of you? Do you actually believe that this is righteous?" asked Anna.

Castiel just stared at her, saying nothing. Anna's face softened.

"What you're feeling… it's called doubt."

Castiel heard the screams of Alistair once again and he closed his eyes, trying to block out the noise.

Dean poured more holy water into his now empty goblet and splashed the water directly onto Alistair's face. Alistair's mouth bubbled over with blood and it flowed down his throat in one long, thick column. Dean just glared at him as he struggled with the pain.

Anna leaned in even closer to Castiel now. She placed her hand gently on top of his and Castiel looked down at their hands touching, surprised at the simplest of gestures.

"These orders are very wrong. And you know it, too. But you can still do the right thing here, Castiel. You're just afraid, Cas. I was too, but together, we can still-"

"Together," repeated Castiel, cutting Anna off.

He looked down at their hands, which were still touching. He ripped his hand away from hers and looked over at her with hatred. Anna looked surprised.

"I am nothing like you, Anna. You fell. Now go," said Castiel.

He turned his back on Anna and began walking away. Anna whirled around to stare at his retreating form.

"Cas," she stated.

Castiel turned back around to face her, the hatred still there in his eyes.

"Go."

Anna looked at him sadly, tears welling up in her eyes. She nodded just slightly and Castiel looked down at the floor as he heard her wings spread out and fly. He remained in the same position as he listened to the cries of Alistair once again.

Dean glared at Alistair as he finally stopped struggling and spit out another stream of blood mixed with holy water.

"You know, it's just not getting deep enough. Honestly, Dean, you have no idea how bad it was. How much you really did for us," said Alistair, smirking over at him once again.

"Shut up," said Dean, his voice a little raspy now.

"The reason Lilith wanted you there in the first place…"

"Well, then I'll just make you shut up," said Dean.

He grabbed Alistair's chin and began pouring a long stream of pure salt straight down Alistair's throat. Alistair groaned in even more pain as the salt entered his system.

Sam looked mad as hell as he drove in the rain to get to Dean. Alex was in the passenger seat, looking out her window and trying to forget what she secretly saw back in the motel room earlier that night. Sam's jaw was clenched and his eyes were basically black as he drove on to get to Dean faster.

Alistair spit some of the salt back up onto the floor, blood coming up with all of it. Dean watched and waited for Alistair to be able to speak once again. Alistair wheezed and gagged as the salt came back up.

"Something's caught in my throat. I think it's my throat," said Alistair, looking down at all of the blood that he had spit up onto the ground.

"Well, strap in. Because I'm just starting to have some fun," said Dean.

Dean walked back over to his table, grabbing the gallon jug of holy water once again.

"Oh, it was supposed to be your father. He was supposed to bring it on, but in the end, it was you," said Alistair, chuckling.

"Bring what on?" asked Dean, focusing on his table and not on Alistair.

"The same offer, remember? Same as your father. And finally, you said, 'Sign me up.' Oh, the first time you picked up my razor. The first time you sliced into that weeping, pathetic bitch. Well, that was the first seal," said Alistair.

As he stared at Dean, he licked his blood-ridden lips evilly. Dean walked over to him again, his favorite blade in his hand. He smirked up at Alistair.

"You're lying," said Dean.

His smirk faded and so did Alistair's.

"And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break," recited Alistair.

Dean walked away from him, his back turned on Alistair momentarily.

"We had to break the first seal before any others, it's the only way you can get all of the dominos to fall right. Top of the one at the front of the line. So when we win, when we bring on the apocalypse and then burn this earth down, we'll owe it all to you. Dean Winchester. And believe me, son, I wouldn't lie about any of that. It's kind of, um, a religious sort of thing with me," said Alistair.

Dean's back was still turned to Alistair. Dean closed his eyes as he took in everything Alistair was saying about him having broken the first seal, his lips trembling. Dean also didn't see Alistair watch as the water continuously dripped on the Devil's Trap, almost breaking the continuous line. Dean's eyes welled with small, yet unshed, tears.

"No. I don't think you are lying. But even if the demons do win, you won't be there to see it," remarked Dean.

He lifted up his blade once again and whirled around to see Alistair free from his chains, smirking up at Dean.

"You should talk to your plumber about those pesky pipes," said Alistair.

He smirked and Dean's eyes widened as Alistair punched him directly in the face. Dean fell to the floor, but Alistair grabbed him by the collar and began to continuously punch him in the face. Dean began gasping for breath as Alistair continued punching him in the face, blood pouring from his nose and multiple other places. Alistair was relentless as he grabbed Dean by the throat, strangling him. He held Dean up, the moonlight shining on all of Dean's injuries.

"You've got a lot to learn, boy. So I'll see you back in class, bright and early, Monday morning."

As Dean's eyes rolled back into his head and he struggled to catch his breath once more, Castiel came rushing into the room. Alistair let go of Dean, who fell to the ground, hard. Castiel stabbed Alistair in the shoulder, but Alistair shoved Castiel away. He looked down at the new blade in his shoulder, which was flickering and glowing with light.

"Oh, almost. Looks like God is on my side today," taunted Alistair.

Castiel got back up rather quickly and held out his arm, palm up and facing Alistair. He began twisting the blade more and more into Alistair's shoulder, Alistair groaning and grimacing in pain. Castiel moved a few steps closer to Alistair as he moved the blade using his powers. Alistair grabbed the blade in his shoulder with his free hand and pulled it back out, throwing it to the side. He yelled and lunged for Castiel, Dean's eyes closing as the fight between the demon and the angel waged on. Alistair grabbed Castiel and ran him into a concrete column where a small pole was sticking out from. Alistair rammed Castiel into the pole and then held him there as Castiel struggled.

"You know, I really wish I knew how to kill any of you. But all I can do is send you back to Heaven."

Alistair still held Castiel up against the concrete column as he began chanting in Latin. A bright white light began pouring out of Castiel's eyes, ears, nose, and mouth as Alistair continued chanting in Latin. After the fourth and final time of repeating this Latin chant, Alistair began to feel a strange power come over him. He looked over to his left and saw Sam holding up his hand, using his powers on Alistair. Alistair was forced to let go of Castiel and the white light stopped pouring from his face. Sam flung Alistair along the brick wall and walked over to him while Alex ran over to Dean. She pulled Dean's head into her lap and began stroking his face.

"Come on, Dean, come on," whispered Alex.

Sam looked over at Alistair, who was shaking his head.

"Who's murdering the angels? How are they doing it?" asked Sam, his glare full of hatred for Alistair.

Alistair chuckled.

"And you think I'm going to tell you?"

"Yeah, actually, I do," answered Sam.

He moved his hand in a twisting motion and Alistair's eyes rolled back into his head, revealing their pure white color. He began gagging.

"How are the demons killing angels?" asked Sam, yelling the question at Alistair this time around.

"I… don't… know!" yelled back Alistair.

"Right," said Sam.

He twisted his hand once more and Alistair cried out in immense pain. Castiel watched Sam, his eyebrows raised with what seemed to be worry or maybe even concern.

"We're not doing it," claimed Alistair.

"I don't believe you," argued Sam.

"Lilith is not behind this. She wouldn't kill just seven angels. No, she'd kill one hundred angels. Maybe even one thousand."

Castiel looked over at Alistair's smirking form. Sam let himself rest and Alistair sucked in a large breath of air after Sam had somewhat released him.

"Oh, go ahead. Send me back. If you even can," smirked Alistair, taunting Sam.

"I'm stronger than that now. Now, I can kill," said Sam.

Castiel looked over at Sam, no more emotion on his face. Sam held up his palm once again and closed his eyes, focusing on the task at hand. Alistair began groaning in pain as Sam began killing him. Lights flashed inside his body and began pouring from his face. The yellow lights in his eyes flickered briefly as Alistair fell over to the ground, finally dead. Sam opened his eyes once again, watching as Alistair's lifeless form fell to the floor along the wall Sam had been holding him to. Sam breathed heavily from his exertion and Castiel looked over at him. Sam said nothing as Castiel stared over at him.

"Sammy," called out Alex.

Sam turned back around and rushed over to his little sister, who still had Dean's head in her lap.

"Sammy, we have to bring him to a hospital. He's hurt really badly," said Alex.

Sam nodded.

The next morning, Sam and Alex were sitting by Dean's bedside in the hospital. Alex was curled up into her chair, wearing one of Dean's many sweatshirts, even though it was huge on her. The sounds of his IV bag dripping fluids into his body could be heard throughout the otherwise quiet room. A page for a nurse or doctor sounded throughout the intercom system in the entire hospital and they could hear it from the open door leading into Dean's room. Sam looked over at the screen showing Dean's vitals and wondered why Dean hadn't woken up yet. Sam and Alex looked over as they saw a shadow standing in the doorway of Dean's room. Castiel was standing there, looking into the room. He gave a meaningful look over to Sam and then walked on past Dean's room. Alex looked at Sam and sighed. Sam patted Alex's hand and stood up, stretching his arms above his head.

"Alex, I have to go talk to Castiel in the hallway, alright?"

Alex nodded silently and grabbed Dean's hand tighter, scooting her chair closer to his bedside until she was practically in the bed with him. Sam smiled gently and he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. Alex let him, but Sam saw the grimace she tried to hide from him. He pretended not to notice, gave her another small smile, and headed into the hallway, whirling around to face Castiel. Castiel looked up at Sam's towering form, his eyes wide.

"Sam," said Castiel.

Sam pointed his thumb back towards Dean's room.

"Get in there and heal him. Miracle, now."

"I can't."

"You and Uriel put him in there."

"I know."

"Because you can't keep a simple Devil's Trap together!" yelled Sam, his eyes wide with fury.

"I don't know what happened. That trap… It shouldn't have broken and I am sorry."

"This whole thing was pointless. Do you understand that? The demons aren't committing these murders. Something else is killing those angels."

Castiel's eyes widened.

"Perhaps Alistair was lying."

"No. He wasn't."

Sam marched back into Dean's room, leaving Castiel standing in the hospital hallway, his eyes wide with confusion.

Back at the warehouse where Castiel and Uriel had been keeping Alistair locked up, Castiel bent down next to the Devil's Trap drawn on the floor. He knelt down and inspected the spot where the trap had been broken. He looked up and saw the leak in one of the pipes, which was causing the dripping water. He stood up and walked over to the gear, turning it with a flick of his hand, stopping the water drips.

"You called," said Uriel, approaching Castiel.

"It's strange. Strange how a leaky pipe can undo the work of angels when we ourselves are supposed to be the agents of fate," said Castiel, looking over at Uriel.

Uriel shook his head while speaking.

"Alistair was just much more powerful than we had imagined."

"No. No demon can ever overpower that kind of trap. I know because I made it myself. We've been friends for a very long time, Uriel. Fought by each other's sides, served together away from home. For what seems like…forever. We're brothers, Uriel. So pay me that respect and tell me the truth."

"The truth is the only thing that can kill an angel …"

Uriel rolled up his sleeve and a long, silver blade appeared into his palm. He held it up to his face, the moonlight reflecting from it.

"Is another angel," finished Uriel.

"You," said Castiel, stepping closer to Uriel and staring at him.

"I'm afraid so."

"And you broke the Devil's Trap. Set Alistair on Dean."

"Alistair should've never even been taken alive. Really inconvenient, Cas. So yes, I did turn the screw a little bit. Alistair should've killed Dean and escaped and you should've gone on, happily scapegoating the demons."

"For the murders of our kin?"

"Not murders, Castiel. No. My work is convergent. How long have we waited here, how long have we played this game with rules that make no sense?"

"It is our Father's world, Uriel," said Castiel, turning his back on Uriel.

"Our Father! He stopped being that, if he ever even was. The moment he created them, humanity. His favorites."

"Are you trying to convert me?" asked Castiel, facing Uriel once again.

"I wanted you to join me and I still do. With you, we can be powerful enough to raise our brother."

"Lucifer."

"So you do remember him. How strong he was, how beautiful. And he didn't bow down to humanity. He was punished for defending us. Now, if you want to believe in something, Cas, believe in him."

"Lucifer is not God."

"God isn't God anymore. He doesn't care what we do and I am proof of that," said Uriel, brushing past Castiel to move and stand in front of him now.

"But this… What were you gonna do, Uriel? Were you gonna kill all of us, the entire garrison?"

"I only killed the ones who said no. Others have joined me, Cas. Now please, brother, don't fight me. Help me. Help me spread the word. Help me bring on the apocalypse. All you have to do is be unafraid."

Castiel shook his head and looked down at the cold concrete floor.

"For the first time in a long time, I am," said Castiel.

He looked back up at Uriel's face, who was smiling. Castiel threw his hands toward Uriel, shoving him backwards through the brick wall behind him. Uriel stood up rather quickly and punched Castiel directly in the face. Castiel retaliated, punching Uriel in the face twice. Uriel grabbed Castiel by the lapels of his tan trench coat and threw him across the room. Castiel rolled back up into a standing position and glared over at Uriel. He spit out some blood from his mouth as he walked towards Uriel. Uriel shook his head at Castiel, but Castiel punched him twice in succession. Uriel grabbed a metal pipe and hit Castiel directly in the face with it, causing Castiel to fall to his knees on the floor. Castiel looked up at him.

"You can't and you won't win, Uriel. I still serve God."

Uriel grabbed Castiel by his collar, anger flaring behind his eyes.

"You haven't even met the man! There is no will, no wrath, and definitely no God."

As Uriel brought his fist back to punch Castiel in the face one more time, Anna appeared, stabbing Uriel in the neck with her blade.

"Maybe. Or maybe not. But there's still me," whispered Anna.

She let go of Uriel, pulling her blade from his neck. Uriel fell straight onto the remaining Devil's Trap. Blood dripped from his neck wound, all down his throat. She walked over to stand beside Castiel and they both watched as bright white lights erupted from Uriel's eyes and mouth. A huge flash of white light lit up the whole entire building and then Uriel was still, finally dead. Castiel stood up then, blood dripping from his nose and the cut on his bottom lip. He looked over at Anna, who looked straight back at him.

Castiel sat in the chair beside Dean's hospital bedside, his head leaning back against the headrest. He looked over at Dean in the hospital bed.

"Are you alright?" asked Castiel.

Dean looked over at him, sighing, but then wincing as it hurt.

"No thanks to you," said Dean, his voice all raspy.

"You need to be more careful."

"And you need to learn how to manage a damn Devil's Trap."

"You know that's not what I mean. Uriel is dead."

"Was it the demons?"

"It's disobedience. He was working against us."

"Is it true? Did I break the very first seal? Did I start all of this?"

Castiel nodded sadly.

"Yes. When we discovered Lilith's plan for you, we laid siege to Hell. And we fought our way to get to you before you-"

"So I started the apocalypse?" whispered Dean.

Castiel looked up at the ceiling.

"We were too late."

"Why didn't you just leave me there then?"

"It's not blame that falls on you, Dean. It's fate. And the righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it. You have the power to stop it. You have to stop it."

A tear rolled down Dean's face.

"Lucifer. The apocalypse. What does that even mean?" asked Dean.

Castiel looked away from him.

"Hey! Don't you go disappearing on me now, you son of a bitch. What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

"That's bullshit!"

"I don't. Dean, they don't tell me very much anymore. All I know is that our fate rests with you."

"Well, then you guys are screwed. I can't do it, Cas. That's too big. Alistair was right. I'm not all here, I'm not strong enough."

Castiel looked over at him, a sad smile on his face. Another tear rolled down Dean's cheek.

"But I guess I'm not the man either of our dads wanted us to be. Now find someone else. Because it's definitely not me."

Dean's tears began falling more steadily now as Castiel looked over at him one last time. He sighed sadly, but then disappeared in the blink of an eye.

A few minutes after Castiel had disappeared into thin air, Alex walked back into Dean's room. As she walked in, she saw that Dean was facing away from her. She smiled brightly as she walked through the doorway. She leaned against the doorframe.

"Hey, handsome," she said.

As Dean rolled over to face her, Alex's smile fell as she took in the dried tear tracks on her oldest brother's face. She rushed over to his side, climbing up into the bed with him and tucking her head under his chin.

"Dean, what's wrong? What happened?" she asked him.

Dean shook his head as he held her close.

"I started all of this, Alex. I broke the first seal, I started the apocalypse," whispered Dean.

Alex took in a shaky breath and lifted her head up, looking at his face. Tears welled up in his eyes once again and Alex looked at him sadly.

"Dean, look at me. This is not your fault, do not blame yourself. And you know what? We're gonna fix all of this, alright?"

Dean looked away from her, so Alex grabbed his chin gently, forcing him to look down at her.

"You listen to me, Dean Winchester. We are going to fix this, alright? I'll do whatever I can to help you out, okay?"

Dean looked into her eyes and slowly nodded. He closed his eyes to keep his tears at bay and Alex nodded. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. She snuggled back into his chest, tucking her head under his chin once again like before. He closed his eyes as he rested his chin on the top of her head. Alex sighed, wondering how she was going to tell Dean about Sam. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, smiling to herself when she noticed that he was falling asleep. She glanced over to the doorway and saw Sam standing there, watching the two of them with a soft smile on his face as he leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. Alex closed her eyes once again, listening to Dean's heartbeat as she fell into a deep sleep.

At the end of his long work day at Sandover Bridge and Iron Company, Dean Smith walked into the elevator, typing away on his blackberry. He stepped onto the elevator without looking at the other two occupants. Once the doors shut completely, he looked over at the two people inside the elevator with him. He gave them both a head nod. One was a tall guy with shaggy dark hair and the other was a petite blonde. She was blowing bubbles with a piece of gum she was currently chewing while the guy was looking at both of them strangely, a confused look on his face.

"Do I know you too?" the long haired guy finally asked.

Dean and the girl stared up at him.

"I don't think so," said Dean.

"No, I don't think so," said the girl.

The guy scoffed and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, guys, you both just look really familiar."

Dean nodded.

"Save it for the health club, pal," said Dean.

The elevator dinged as they arrived on the ground floor. The girl looked up at the tall guy after Dean had left the elevator, her eyebrows raised.

"Jesus. What a douche bag," she said.

The tall guy nodded in agreement with her.

"Anyway, I'm Alex Glock. It was nice to meet you…"

She trailed off as she stuck out her hand for him to shake and introduce himself. He took her hand.

"Sam. Sam Wesson."

The next morning, Sam sat at his cubicle up on the third floor of the Sandover Bridge and Iron Company. He was employed in the technology/customer services part of the company. His phone was ringing off the hook, all of the lights blinking at him on the phone. He sighed and used the eraser end of his pencil to hit a button on his phone.

"Tech support, this is Sam Wesson," he answered.

The caller on the other end of the line explained her problem and Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her.

"Okay, well, did you try turning it off and on? Okay, so, go ahead and turn it off. No, no, no, just off. Alright, now, give it a second. Turn it back on. Okay, is it printing now? Great, anytime," finished up Sam.

He threw off his headset and hit the end button for his call.

"Hey," said a voice from behind him.

Sam turned around in his rolling chair and looked at his coworker behind him who wanted his attention currently.

"Dude, have you seen the new receptionist down on the second floor? She's a total babe," said Sam's coworker, Ian.

Sam's forehead scrunched up as he thought hard.

"Is she kind of small and blonde?" he asked.

Ian nodded, biting his lip.

"Super hot. I might have to hit that soon."

Sam groaned and shook his head.

"Dude, way too much information. I think I met her yesterday in the elevator. Her name's Alex, I think."

"Nice. Her big, round blue eyes have sucked me in, man. She's fucking sexy, dude."

Sam rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but feel a wave of emotions running through his body. He felt angry, betrayed, hurt, and maybe even a little protective over this new girl whom he hardly even knew. Ian smiled over at him as he stood up from his chair.

"Coffee break?"

Sam stood up as well, nodding. They began heading for the break room, stopping by another coworker's desk first.

"Paul, time for a refuel, buddy," said Ian.

Paul never looked away from his computer screen, his fingers furiously typing away on his keyboard.

"Sorry, no time."

"Since when? Dude, we get paid by the freaking hour," said Ian.

"Working here!"

Sam and Ian began walking away.

"Well, he seems stressed," remarked Sam.

"I think he's freaked because he got busted surfing porn on the internet here at work," said Ian.

"Oh, no way. When?" asked Sam.

Ian scoffed.

"Paul got sent up to HR yesterday. I guess they put the fear of God in him."

Ian brushed past Sam to walk into the break room. Sam began pouring each of them a cup of coffee while Ian pulled open the storage cupboard, stuffing his jeans with four packs of pencils. Sam whirled around with their coffee cups and rolled his eyes at Ian.

"Ian, dude!"

Ian just smirked and grabbed the cup of freshly brewed coffee Sam was offering him.

"So, Sam. Had any of those… dreams lately?"

Sam sighed.

"I never should've told you about those dreams in the first place," said Sam.

"They're complete genius. Don't hold out on me, man. Come on, share some with the class here."

"Dude, you're just gonna be a complete dick about it."

"What? No way. I won't say a single word about any of them, I promise. I have total respect. Now, come on," urged Ian.

Sam sighed deeply, shaking his head.

"I dreamt that I saved a grim reaper named Jack from demons," offered Sam.

Ian busted out laughing hysterically.

"Dude, that's classic! How much D and D did you play when you were a child?"

"You're such a fucking dick," whispered Sam.

Ian laughed even harder as they walked out of the break room, returning to their seats.

Back in his cubicle desk, Sam was filling out a couple pieces of paper on a clipboard. He began yawning profusely, so he rested his head in his hands, his eyes closing as he sat there. As he closed his eyes, he saw images appear in front of him. He saw himself shooting off a gun into a crossroads demon's head, he was standing with a guy and a girl as they fought off a group of demons, and he saw a guy cutting the head off of a rogue vampire. He startled awake, gasping. He looked around to make sure no one had seen him fall asleep and then he shook off his weird dream.

Sam stepped into the semi-crowded elevator later that night around five thirty, glancing around and seeing the man, Dean, from yesterday standing right next to him. Sam tried not to stare at Dean as the rest of the people stood around in the elevator talking. On the second floor, the four other people in the elevator walked out, chatting with each other. The new receptionist from the second floor, Alex, stepped inside and rolled her eyes when she saw who was on the elevator with her. The elevator doors closed after she had stepped on and Sam took in a deep breath.

"Can I ask you both a question?" he asked them.

Dean and Alex both sighed deeply.

"Sure," they both said at the same time.

"What do you two think about… ghosts?" asked Sam.

Alex held back her laugh, but Dean looked at Sam, his forehead scrunched up with confusion from the question.

"Ghosts?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, do you believe in them?"

Dean chuckled slightly.

"Um, to tell you the truth, I've never actually given it very much thought."

Sam turned to Alex then.

Alex shook her head.

"Ghosts aren't real."

"What about vampires?" asked Sam.

"What?" asked Dean and Alex.

They looked at each other, confused.

"Why?" asked Alex, turning to look at Sam.

"Because I've been having some, um, weird dreams lately. You know what I mean?"

Alex shook her head.

"No, not really," answered Dean, turning to look at the front of the elevator now.

"So… you two have never had any… weird dreams?" asked Sam.

"Alright, look, man. Um, I don't even really know you, alright? But I'm gonna do us all a public service and let you know that you overshare," said Dean.

The elevator doors opened and Dean quickly rushed out, shaking his head at Sam's weird questions. Alex walked out after Dean and Sam shook his head as he stood inside the elevator.

Later that night, Alex was lying down on her couch, falling asleep as she watched an older episode of One Tree Hill. Her eyes closed and she saw flashes of herself. She was fighting alongside two men who seemed to resemble Sam and Dean from work. They were fighting a demon and then she saw a ghost. She shot up as she woke up, her chest heaving as she looked around the room. She grabbed the television remote, shutting off her TV and walking across the hall to her bedroom, shaking off the weird feeling she had as she walked.

The next day, Sam was sitting back at his desk, his headset on. He had a pad of notebook paper in front of him and he was drawing what looked to be the scary monster faces in his dreams.

"Okay, did you turn it off and then back on?" he asked the customer on the other end of his line.

He opened up the Internet on his computer, bringing up a search engine.

"No, that's fine, I'll just wait," reassured Sam.

As he waited on his caller, Sam looked around him. He saw that no one was paying any attention whatsoever to him, so he typed "Vampires" into the search engine pulled up on his computer. He clicked on the tab marked "Images" and looked through some scary looking pictures.

"Is it printing now?" asked Sam.

"Oh, that's wonderful. Anytime. Thanks," said Sam.

He hung up his phone call and browsed through some more of the pictures.

"What you doing?" asked Ian from behind Sam.

Sam quickly minimized his Internet browser and whirled around to face Ian. He shook his head.

"Nothing," answered Sam.

"Did you happen to get an email from Human Resources?" asked Ian.

Sam shook his head.

"No, why?"

"Damn it. I guess it was just me then. I'm supposed to 'report to HR.'"

Sam chuckled and scoffed.

"Well, they're probably finally busting you for snaking all of those office supplies."

Ian chuckled and stood up from his chair. Sam gave him a soft smile and watched his friend leave his cubicle, headed for HR.

Sam pulled his Internet browser back up and was looking through the pictures of vampires once again until he heard someone across from him.

"No, no, no, no, come on. Don't do this to me, please," whispered a man.

Sam stood up from his desk chair and looked over the top of his cubicle at Paul, who was holding his head in his hands.

"Hey, man, are you alright?" asked Sam.

"It froze," said Paul, looking sadly up at Sam.

Sam chuckled.

"They're crap, Paul, they freeze all of the time."

"No, no, you don't even understand. When I rebooted it, everything was gone. All my stuff from the day before, I need it!"

"Well, did you back any of it up?" asked Sam.

"No, I didn't back up. I wish to God that I backed up, but I didn't. But it's okay, I'll get it back, I will. It's gotta be somewhere. I'll find it!" whispered Paul.

"Paul, it's alright, man. These things always happen," reassured Sam.

Paul ignored him and continued typing away on his computer. Sam sighed, but sat back down in his own seat.

At 9 AM the next morning, Sam stood back and watched as the EMT's wheeled Paul's dead body out on a stretcher, a white sheet covering his dead form. He looked across the room and saw Alex and Dean standing on the other side of the room. Alex gave Sam a curious look, but Dean quickly looked away, leaning over to whisper to one of his coworkers.

"Does something about this just not seem right to you?" asked Dean.

His coworker nodded, his eyebrows raised.

"Uh, yeah. Try the whole entire thing."

Dean was back in his office an hour later, looking up Paul's employee file. He saw Paul's smiling face from his employee picture and Dean clicked on a special note in the file. The note was about Paul's retirement party, which was coming up in less than two weeks.

"Two weeks?" whispered Dean.

Sam wheeled his chair over next to Ian's cubicle, his forehead wrinkled with confusion.

"Hey, why would someone kill themselves two weeks before they were gonna retire?" asked Sam.

Ian never said anything, so Sam looked over at him. Ian was wearing the standard uniform, which he never used to do before today. His headset was on tight and he was typing away on his computer's keyboard.

"Ian?" asked Sam.

Ian whirled around to face him now.

"I don't have time for this, Sam."

Sam laughed, his smile lighting up his face.

"Oh, that's really funny, Ian."

Ian ignored him and turned back to his computer. Sam's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

"What's with you?"

"I'm working here, Sam. And it's very important."

"Did HR bust your balls or something? I mean, you're wearing this God awful yellow shirt. Did you shave?"

"Tech Support, this is Ian."

Ian paused for a few seconds.

"I'll be right up there."

Ian hung up his phone call and removed his headset.

"I've gotta go up to twenty-two and speak to a manager," said Ian.

He stood up and walked straight past Sam, Sam looking confused in his wake.

Ian knocked on Dean's office door, gulping nervously as he did so. Dean looked up, his eyebrows raised.

"Hi, Ian, is it?" asked Dean.

Ian nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, come on in," said Dean.

Ian stepped into Dean's office slowly as Dean began talking.

"Yesterday, you filled out a 445T? And uh, there's no problem, just a few small errors. I mean, we did just switch over to Vista, so I'm sure you're just really used to filling out the dash R's, am I right?"

Dean smirked and reached for the papers he needed.

"Oh no," whispered Ian, dread filling his voice.

"Oh, no, it's perfectly fine. I just need you to, uh, redo one today so I can get this show on the road and invoice it," explained Dean, setting a new form out on his desk for Ian to pick up.

Ian looked down at the form on Dean's desk, his chin trembling.

"Oh, my God."

"No, no, it's really fine. Just re-file it and we're all square."

"I can't believe I did this, I did this," whispered Ian, his eyes twitching.

Dean's eyebrows pulled together with worry and confusion.

"Hey, guy. Come on."

"No, no. It affected profits, I screwed up! I can't… I am so sorry. I mean, how could I even do that? I failed Sandover, I failed this entire company," whispered Ian.

Dean removed his headset and slowly stood up.

"Okay, hey, why don't you just sit down here? Ian? Ian?" asked Dean.

Dean watched as Ian ran from his office. Dean walked after him, finding him in the men's restroom. Ian was holding onto one of the sinks as he looked at himself in the mirror above the sinks.

"Hey, Ian. Let's just chill out, man, alright?"

Dean's smirk faded as he saw his breath once he breathed out. He realized how chilly it was in the restroom. He watched as all of the sinks and soap dispensers turned on by themselves, no one having waved their hand over them or anything.

"Ian, hey. Maybe we should get out of here, huh? Come on. Ian. Look at me," demanded Dean.

The soap began falling onto the floor and Ian finally looked over at Dean. His face was an emotionless mask as he reached into the left pocket of his ill-fitting khaki pants. Dean watched as Ian pulled out a sharpened wooden pencil and clutched it in his fist. Ian suddenly stabbed himself straight in the neck, gasping as he did so. Dean's eyes widened as blood began pouring from Ian's neck wound. Ian fell to the floor and Dean fell to his knees right beside him. As Dean briefly glanced up, he saw an old man in the shiny bathroom stall door. He looked behind him, but no one was behind him. He looked back into the bathroom stall door, but the old man had disappeared.

"Someone, help me!" yelled Dean.

An hour later, Ian's dead body was being wheeled out of the bathroom and the police were talking to Dean.

"No, no, I, um, followed him into the bathroom. He was, he was, um, standing there in front of the mirror and then…"

Dean trailed off as he saw Sam standing among the crowd of onlookers. He looked past Sam and saw Alex standing a couple of people behind Sam. He shook his head and turned back to the police officer.

"And then he, um, stabbed himself in the neck. I'm sorry, that's all I can tell you," finished Dean.

He looked back over at Alex and Sam.

Sam answered the phone once he was back in his cubicle.

"Tech Support, this is Sam."

"I need to see you in my office. Now. Oh, and bring that chick from the elevator with you too."

Sam hung up his phone and headed for the second floor.

Sam stepped off of the elevator on the second floor, immediately spotting Alex at the receptionist's desk. He chuckled as he saw her hang up her phone and then roll her eyes. He walked up the desk and Alex looked up at him. She saw him standing in front of her and she immediately pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth.

"Um, that man from the elevator, Dean? Yeah, he wants to see us in his office. Now," explained Sam.

Alex nodded and removed her headset. She stood up and walked around the receptionist's desk to stand with Sam. A girl quickly stepped in and replaced her as Alex and Sam headed for the third floor.

Alex knocked on Dean's office door as she and Sam stood in the doorway of his office door. Dean finished buttoning up the buttons on his new shirt and looked over at the two of them. He waved them inside, so Alex and Sam walked into his office, taking a seat in the two chairs located in front of his desk. Dean walked over, shutting his office door. Dean walked back to stand behind his desk chair, placing his hands on the back of his chair as he looked at Alex and Sam.

"Now, who the hell are you two again?" he asked them.

Sam and Alex scoffed.

"I'm not even sure if I know," said Sam.

Alex nodded in agreement with him.

"What does that even mean?" asked Dean.

Alex sighed.

"I'm Alex Glock and this is Sam…"

"Wesson. I started here three weeks ago," finished Sam.

Dean nodded.

"Alright, well, you cornered me in the elevator, talking about ghosts and vampires. And now…"

Dean trailed off, not knowing where to begin.

"Now what?" asked Alex.

"Now nothing. I, um… So you started working here three weeks ago, huh? What about you?" asked Dean, looking over at Alex.

"Um, I started three weeks ago too," she answered him.

"Yeah, me too," said Dean.

He took a drink from his water bottle and sat down at his desk, looking away from both of his fellow coworkers.

"When you were in that bathroom with Ian, did you see something?" asked Sam.

Dean looked up at Sam's question and both Alex and Sam adjusted in their seats as he looked up at them.

"I don't know, I don't know what I saw," said Dean, shaking his head.

"Wait, are you saying that… Did you see a ghost?" asked Alex.

"I was freaking out, alright? The guy stabbed himself in the neck with a damn pencil!"

"You did see one, didn't you?" asked Alex.

Dean sighed and hung his head.

"Okay, listen. What if these suicides aren't actually suicides? I mean, what if they're something… not natural?" asked Sam.

"So, what? Ghosts are real? And they're responsible for all the dead bodies around here, is that what you're trying to say?" asked Dean.

Sam nodded profusely as both he and Alex leaned forward in their seats, closer to Dean.

"Look, I know this sounds crazy. But yes. That's what I'm telling you, both of you, said Sam, looking over at Alex as well.

"Uh-huh. Based on what, exactly?" asked Dean.

"Um, instinct?" said Sam.

Alex shook her head, smiling slightly at Sam's response.

"I've got the same instinct," she whispered.

"Yeah, me too," said Dean.

"Seriously?" asked Sam, looking between the two of them.

They both nodded once again.

"Well, you know those dreams I was telling you about? I was dreaming about ghosts. And then it turns out that there's a real ghost, here!" said Sam.

"I've been having those dreams too, actually," whispered Alex.

Sam looked over at her sitting next to him, his face in total surprise. Dean rubbed a hand over his own face.

"So, are you guys telling me that your dreams are some sort of special visions and you're both some sort of psychic?"

"No. I mean, that would be nuts," said Alex, scoffing.

"We're just saying something weird is going on around here, right?"

Dean and Alex nodded slightly. Sam grabbed his satchel and began digging through it, looking for something.

"So, I've been doing a little digging. And I think I've found a connection between the two guys," said Sam.

He pulled out a couple pieces of paper. He handed them over to Dean. Alex sighed and stood up from her chair, walking over to read the papers over Dean's shoulder. Instead of being irritated, Dean felt a sense of déjà vu. He shrugged it off and began reading through the papers with Alex.

"You broke into their email accounts?" asked Dean, raising his eyebrows over at Sam.

"Um, I used some skills that I happen to have to… satisfy my curiosity," explained Sam, looking a little sheepish.

Dean nodded.

"Nice," said Alex, smirking over at him.

"Yeah, okay. So, it turns out that both Ian and Paul both got this same email telling them to report to HR, Room 1444," explained Sam.

"HR's on Floor Seven," said Dean.

"Exactly," responded Sam.

"Should we go check this out?" asked Alex, looking between the two men she barely knew, but felt a strange sense of camaraderie with them.

"Like, right now?" asked Sam.

"No, no, it's getting late, you're right, Sam," said Dean.

Alex looked at them.

"Guys, I am dying to check this out right this very second," she said.

"Right?!" yelled Dean, his eyebrows raised.

On the fourteenth floor, Sam, Alex, and Dean rounded the corner to see the door to Room 1444. Just as they stepped towards the door, they heard a man scream inside the room. A loud crash followed his scream. They all ran for the door and Sam reached it first, grabbing the door handle. It was locked. He let go of the door handle and kicked the door in with a grunt.

"Whoa," said Alex.

She and Dean exchanged confused glances, but didn't question Sam's strength. Sam just shrugged and they all ran into the room. A man from Tech Support was lying on the floor, a metal shelf holder lying on top of him, pinning him to the floor. Sam and Dean got on either side of the shelf holder, getting ready to lift it. Alex stood behind them and glanced over Dean's shoulder. She saw a white-haired man appear suddenly behind Dean. Before she could yell his name, the man grabbed Dean and flung him across the room. He fell into a pile of cabinets. The man grabbed Alex next and then Sam, sending them flying across the room as well. Once they were all disposed of momentarily, the white-haired man looked down at the man on the floor. The ghost's fingers flickered with electricity as Sam, Alex, and Dean stood up. The man reached down to touch a finger to the other man's forehead, but just as he got close, Dean grabbed an iron wrench from off of a shelf. He rushed forward, swinging at the ghost. The ghost disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared only moments before. All of the computer screens turned off as Sam and Dean lifted the shelf holder off of the Tech Support guy.

"How'd you know how to do that?" asked Alex, walking over to them, blowing a strand of blonde hair out of her face.

Dean shook his head, his eyes wide.

"I have no clue."

Later that night at Dean's house, Sam was leaning against the back of the sofa, Dean was pacing his hardwood floors as he sipped from his health drink, and Alex was lying on Dean's sofa.

"Holy shit, guys," said Dean.

"Yeah. I could use a beer," said Sam.

"Yeah, me too, actually," said Alex, sitting up and leaning her head against the back of the sofa, watching Dean pace.

"Sorry, I got rid of all the carbs in the house. I'm on the deep cleansing diet," said Dean, holding up his thermos.

"Hey, how did you know that ghosts are scared of wrenches?" asked Sam.

Dean walked back over to the both of them and handed them each a bottle of water. He shrugged.

"Crazy, right? And nice job kicking in that door too. What are you, like a black belt or something?" asked Dean.

Sam just shrugged while Alex shook her head.

"Actually, the wrench was made of iron. That's why the ghost disappeared," she said.

Sam and Dean turned their heads, looking at her strangely. Her eyes widened.

"I have no idea where that just came from. It just… popped into my head," whispered Alex.

"Anyway, I'm no black belt. I have absolutely no clue how I kicked that door down. It was almost like I've done it a million times before," said Sam.

"What do you mean, before?" asked Alex.

"I don't know, but I just can't shake this feeling like I don't belong here. Like we don't belong here, you know what I mean? Like we should do something more than sit at desks all day, answering phone calls," explained Sam.

Alex nodded and Dean watched as both she and Sam took a sip from their water bottles at the same exact time. They drank from it and then they both sighed afterwards, the exact same way. Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Has anyone ever told you two that you kind of resemble one another?" asked Dean.

Alex and Sam looked at each other and then smirked, laughing at Dean.

"No way," said Alex.

"That's just ridiculous," agreed Sam.

Dean just shrugged and took a sip from his health drink.

"I don't like this job, I don't like this town. I don't like my clothes and I don't even like my own last name. Look, I don't know how else to explain it except that…"

Sam trailed off, taking in a deep sigh.

"Maybe it feels like you should be doing something else with your life?" asked Alex.

Sam's eyes brightened as he looked over at her.

"Yes, exactly! It's like you're reading my mind or something!"

"It's just something in your blood. I feel it too," said Alex.

"You ever feel that way, Dean? Like you were destined for something completely different?" asked Sam, looking over at Dean.

"I don't believe in destiny, but I do believe in dealing with what's right in front of us, though."

Sam and Alex nodded.

"Alright, so, what do we do now?" asked Sam, looking at his two companions.

"We do what I do best, Sammy. Research," smirked Dean.

Sam nodded.

"Okay," he said.

Dean began walking into another room and Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Wait a minute, did you just call me Sammy?"

Dean stopped walking and Alex got up from the couch.

"Did I?" asked Dean.

"I'm pretty sure you did. Yeah, you did. Don't call me that," said Sam.

Alex giggled at the two of them before grabbing her water bottle and following Dean and Sam into the study.

"Sorry," said Dean.

An hour later, Dean was sitting on his home computer, Sam was researching at another table, and Alex was sitting at the same table as Sam.

"Oh, jackpot!" yelled Dean.

Both Alex and Sam looked up and over at him across the room.

"What you got?" asked Alex.

"I just found the best site ever. Real life ghost hunters," said Dean.

Alex and Sam stood up and walked over to stand on either side of Dean, looking over his shoulder at the website he had found.

"Man, these guys are geniuses!" said Dean.

"Ooh, instructional videos," said Alex.

Dean and Sam nodded as Dean hit "Play," starting the first video on the list. A logo appeared, Ghostfacers. Two guys in lab coats appeared next.

"We know why you're watching," said one man.

"You've got a problem," said the other one.

"A ghost problem," said the two men together.

"Well, you've certainly come to the right place. The only decent place really because The Ghostfacers know how to solve it."

"Period."

"Watch and learn," whispered one man.

"See, the first step in any ghost related fight is to figure out what you're up against," chorused the two men.

Dean paused the video and looked at Alex and Sam.

"Let's do some more research then," said Sam.

Alex groaned.

After only thirty minutes, Sam had found an article about the owner of the building where they worked, P.T. Sandover. There was a black and white picture of him in the article and Dean looked over Sam's shoulder at the laptop screen.

"That's definitely him. That's the ghost," said Dean, his eyes wide.

Sam nodded and began reading from the article.

"P.T. Sandover, died in 1916. Whole life devoted to his work. No wife and no kids. Used to say he was the company and his very own blood pumped throughout the building."

"Wow, okay then. So, a slight workaholic. Maybe he's still here, you know, watching over the company and even killing for it," said Alex.

"Plus, it turns out that this isn't the first time people have started killing themselves in the building. 1929," said Sam.

"Yeah, but lots of guys jumped off of lots of high-rises that year," said Dean.

"How many companies had seventeen suicides though?" asked Sam.

Dean whistled at that number, his eyes wide.

"Okay, so, P.T. Sandover, protector of the company, his ghost wakes up and becomes active. During times of grave economic distress," theorized Dean.

"Well, the worst time we've seen since The Great Depression…" began Sam.

"Is now," said Alex.

"Yeah, now sucks," whispered Dean.

"So Sandover's helping the bottom line…"

"By zapping some model employees," said Dean.

"Yeah. I mean, Ian and Paul. It was like they turned into completely different people," said Sam.

"Perfect worker bees, exactly," agreed Alex, pacing the floor.

"Want one more interesting fact? The building wasn't always that high. It used to be fourteen floors and the room where the ghost attacked, 1444? Once upon a time, that was the old man's office," said Sam.

"Now, once you've got that thing in your sights, you've gotta kill it!" chorused the two nerds on the Ghostfacers video.

Sam, Alex, and Dean were back to sitting around Dean's desktop computer, figuring out how to deal with this ghost situation.

"Using special ghost hunting weapons. First, you'll need salt. It's like acid to ghosts. But burning acid," said one man.

"Yeah, not like LSD," said the other man on the video.

"It's a bad trip for ghosts. Next up, iron!"

Alex and Dean looked over at Alex, who smirked back at them. Sam rolled his eyes at her and returned his attention back to the video.

"Dissipates ghosts instantly! It's like power in your hands."

"Our third little trick we learned from those useless douchebags…"

"That we hate!"

"The Winchester family," said the first man on the video.

"Well, we really only hate the two guys. That sister of theirs is mighty fine," said the other man.

The first man nodded, a wistful look in his eyes. His buddy nudged him in the side after a few seconds and the first man shook his head.

"Right."

He cleared his throat and picked up a shotgun.

"Shotgun and shotgun shells."

"Pack the shotgun shell up with fresh rock salt and it's very, very effective," said the second man.

"The Winchesters still suck ass, though," said the first guy.

The second guy nodded and then the video was over, the Ghostfacers logo appearing on the screen once again.

"Man, they really didn't like those Winchesters," remarked Alex.

Sam and Dean nodded in agreement.

"Weird though. I almost felt like I needed to defend them and I don't even know who they are," said Sam.

Dean nodded.

"Well, let's get all the equipment we need and get back to Sandover," said Alex.

Sam and Dean nodded and they began to find everything they would need to defeat the ghost.

Dean stuck some fireplace pokers into the duffel bag they were using to store all of their equipment.

"Where would we even get a gun?" asked Dean.

Sam walked into the living room holding two cans of salt in each hand.

"I don't know, a gun store maybe?"

"But isn't there like, some kind of waiting period or something?" asked Alex, standing next to Dean now.

"Yeah, I think so," said Sam.

"Then how are we gonna get one?" asked Dean.

"I don't know, guys, this seems pretty impossible," whined Alex.

"Right," said Dean.

"Also, those weird dudes from the video said we have to burn the remains to completely get rid of the ghost," said Alex.

"Yeah, but Sandover was cremated. It said that in his article," said Sam.

Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face with frustration.

"They also said we'd have to find some sort of other remains if he was cremated. Just some genetic material of some sort," said Alex.

Sam and Dean sighed.

Back at Sandover, Dean stepped onto the elevator first, holding the duffel bag full of stuff.

"Set your cell phones to walkie-talkie mode in case we all get separated," said Dean.

He pulled out his own cell phone, so Alex and Sam followed suit.

"How in the hell are we going to find some ancient speck of DNA in a huge skyscraper?" asked Sam.

"Well, the creepy storeroom used to be Sandover's office, right?" asked Alex.

Up in Room 1444, Sam, Alex, and Dean were searching for some form of DNA that P.T. Sandover would've left behind after his death. They looked everywhere and Sam was looking through Sandover's desk when he felt a new presence behind him. He shot up and whirled around to see a security guard standing in front of him now.

"What the hell are you doing here?" asked the security guard.

Dean and Alex hid behind some cabinets, Dean pulling Alex to stand behind him.

"Um, nothing. I was just…"

"Right. Come with me, please."

Sam sighed as the security guard grabbed his arm, leading him out of the room. The security guard shut the door behind them and Sam began protesting with him.

"Come on, man, listen to me. I work here, I-"

"Whatever, man. Tell it to the cops."

The guard led Sam down the hallway and away from Room 1444. Dean and Alex stood up from their hiding spots.

The security guard led Sam onto the elevator and pushed the button for the ground floor. As the elevator passed Floor 13, the air suddenly became chilly. Sam and the security guard could both see their breath as they exhaled. Once the elevator got down to Floor 10, it stopped suddenly. The numbers flickered between 10 and 9, so the guard used his emergency key. The elevator doors opened to reveal that they were stuck in between the two floors. The guard pried the other set of metal doors open and looked up into the elevator shaft.

"Well, come on," he said.

Sam's eyes widened.

"What?" asked Sam, trying to keep his voice level.

The guard turned his head to look back at Sam.

"Last time this happened, it took them two whole hours to get here."

"So, let's just wait then," said Sam, shrugging his shoulders.

The guard shook his head and gave Sam a weird face. He hoisted himself up and had half of his torso out the elevator doors, his legs still inside the elevator. He began crawling out of the elevator, Sam wincing every single time the elevator creaked and groaned. Once he was out of the elevator, he turned and looked back at Sam. Sam gave him a nervous smile.

"I'll just wait right here," said Sam.

The guard leaned back into the elevator to get closer to Sam, his upper half inside the elevator with Sam.

"Look, I don't have the rest of my life here-"

Suddenly, the elevator shaft readjusted and it completely smashed the security guard, blood spattering all over Sam's face and body. Sam gasped and his heart beat faster. He was startled as he heard a beep from his phone.

"Hey. Are you alright over there?" asked Alex.

Sam removed his phone from his pocket, holding it away from his blood soaked face and neck.

"I'm gonna have to call you back, alright?"

A few minutes later, Sam had managed to get out of the elevator shaft and was walking through the Tech Support Center, wiping his face and neck off with a large handful of Kleenexes.

"Alex, Dean? You still there?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, we're both here. Listen, I think I may have got it. Meet us on twenty-two," responded Dean.

Sam nodded.

"Okay, yeah. Let me just, um, take the stairs," he whispered, mostly to himself.

Dean and Alex were waiting for Sam in front of the large mural painted on a wall on the 22nd floor. Both of their eyes widened as they took in Sam's appearance.

"Whoa, that's a lot of blood," remarked Alex.

"Yeah, I know," said Sam.

Alex nodded and they all turned to the mural on the left wall. Dean pointed to a pair of gloves placed in a glass case inside the mural. He cleared his throat.

"Okay. So, um, right there," said Dean.

"P.T. Sandover's gloves," said Alex.

"Mmm-hmm. So how much you two wanna bet there's a little smidge of DNA in there? You know, like a fingernail clipping or a hair or two? Something," said Dean.

"So you two ready?" asked Sam.

Dean took in a deep breath and Alex shook her head.

"I have no clue," said Dean.

Sam nodded.

"Me neither."

The three of them all bent down, Sam and Dean grabbing fireplace pokers and Alex grabbing a canister of salt. Sam took in a deep breath and looked at the other two.

"Go ahead," said Alex, gently nudging Dean forward.

Dean nodded and licked his lips.

"Right."

Dean inched forward slowly and smashed the glass with the other end of his fireplace poker. As the glass fell to the ground, Sam exhaled and his eyes widened as he saw his breath. Alex screamed as she saw the ghost behind Dean. The ghost grabbed Dean, threw him into a wall, and then rounded on Sam and Alex. He pushed Sam into the other wall and Alex went with him. As the ghost stepped towards the both of them, his fingers sparking with electricity, Alex grabbed the salt canister beside her. She opened it and ducked as she flung it out. The ghost disappeared. The three of them all stood up, smirking, but then the ghost reappeared behind Dean once again.

"Dean!" yelled Alex, throwing Dean Sam's fireplace poker.

Dean caught it effortlessly and whirled around, swiping straight through the ghost with the iron fireplace poker. The ghost disappeared once again.

"Dude, nice catch!" said Alex, her eyes wide.

"Right?!" yelled Dean, looking at the fireplace poker in his hands.

The three of them walked toward the duffel bag and Sam grabbed the other fireplace poker. Just as he grabbed it, the ghost reappeared and both Sam and Dean swung at him. He disappeared once again. But just as quickly as he disappeared, he reappeared, shoving both Sam and Dean into the walls once again. He appeared directly in front of Dean, sparks of electricity reaching his fingertips once again. Dean's head lolled to the side as the ghost got closer and Sam was taking forever to get back up. Alex bit her lip, but ran over to the gloves in the wall. She grabbed the lighter from her pocket and picked up the old, worn gloves.

"Come on, come on," whispered Alex, watching as the gloves finally caught on fire.

She and Sam both looked over as the ghost got closer to touching Dean's forehead. As Dean's eyes widened and he turned away from the ghost, the ghost's arm went up in flames. Eventually, his whole entire body disappeared as Alex dropped the still burning gloves onto the white tile floor. She and Sam headed over to Dean.

"That was amazing!" yelled Sam, smirking.

"Right? Right!" said Dean.

He used the wall behind him as leverage to help him stand up.

"Come on, I have a first aid kit down in my office," said Dean.

Back in Dean's office, he grabbed his first aid kit from under his desk. Sam and Alex were sitting on his desk as Dean used once corner of his desk to place the first aid kit on.

"Guys, I've never had so much fun in my entire life," remarked Dean.

"Yeah, me neither," agreed Sam.

"But it was one hell of a workout," remarked Alex, cringing as she rolled her shoulder.

Sam and Dean nodded.

"We should keep doing this," said Sam.

Dean chuckled, but then his face turned serious as he took in Sam's expression.

"I really mean it. There've gotta be other ghosts out there. We could help and save a whole lot of people," said Sam.

Alex rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, but then we'd be like The Ghostfacers," she said.

"No, really. I mean, for real," said Sam.

"So, what, quit our jobs, hit the road?" asked Dean.

Sam nodded eagerly.

"Exactly!"

"Okay, but how would we live, Sam?" asked Alex, pulling her lip in between her teeth nervously.

"Um…" began Sam.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me. How would we get by, stolen credit cards, huh? Eating diner food drenched in saturated fats? Sharing a crap motel room every single night?" asked Dean.

"Those are all just details," said Sam.

"But details are everything, Sam! You don't wanna go fighting ghosts without any health insurance!" yelled Dean.

Sam looked away from him, his jaw clenched.

"Alright, um, I have a confession," said Sam.

"What?" asked Alex, placing her hand over his and giving him a warm smile.

Sam smiled back at her.

"Remember those dreams I've been having about the ghosts and stuff?"

"Yeah?" asked Dean.

"I was always fighting them. In every single dream."

"Um, okay," said Dean.

"With you, Dean. And Alex, too."

Dean looked a little bit surprised, while Alex didn't, considering she had already been having these dreams as well.

"We were like these hunters and we were friends. Actually, more like siblings, really. I mean, what if that's who we really are? I mean, you saw all three of us back there, working together. The ghost was scrambling people's brains, what if it scrambled all of ours too?" said Sam.

Dean stood up, walking away from Sam.

"Sam, that's just insane."

"Is it really though? Think about it for just one second, Dean. I mean, what if we think this is our life, but it's really not?" asked Sam.

Dean leaned against the windowsill in his office, away from Sam and Alex.

"Look, man, the ghost is dead now and we're still standing. I mean, I'm sorry, but-"

"Look, all I know is this isn't who any of us are supposed to be!" yelled Sam.

"No. I'm Dean Smith, okay? Director of Sales and Marketing. I went to Stanford, my father's name is Bob and my mother's name is Ellen and my brother's name is Joe."

"Okay, and when's the last time you talked to any of them?" asked Sam.

"Wow, okay. You're upset, you're confused-"

"Yeah, because I only moved here because I just broke up with my fiancée, Madison. But I called her number and I got a damn animal hospital!" yelled Sam.

"Okay, so what are you saying? Are you trying to say that my family isn't even real? Huh? That we've been injected with fake memories? Come on!" yelled Dean.

"All I know is that I've got this feeling in my gut and I know, I know that deep down, you've gotta be feeling it too," said Sam.

Dean scoffed, but Alex's eyes widened.

"We're supposed to be something else," she whispered.

"What?" asked Sam.

Both men looked over at her. She looked up from the floor, glancing in between both Sam and Dean.

"Look, Dean, you're not just some corporate douchebag, this isn't you. I know you," said Alex.

"Know me? You don't know me, sweetheart. Now, you should go. Both of you," said Dean.

Sam looked defeated while Alex nodded sadly. She walked over to Sam, grabbing his arm and tugging him away from Dean's desk gently.

"Come on, Sammy," she whispered.

Sam gave Dean one last, long stare before he left with Alex, slinging his arm over her shoulder as they disappeared from Dean's sight.

The next morning, Sam was sitting in his little cubicle, staring at his ringing phone. After a couple of seconds, he removed his headset from around his head, pushed away from his small desk, and slowly stood up. He grabbed his iron fireplace poker from underneath his desk and swung at his phone, smashing it. Everyone around him gasped in shock, flying out of their chairs as they tried to get away from him. Sam continued smashing his phone until it was completely broken, pieces all over the floor and his desk. Sam threw the fireplace poker down onto his desk and glanced around at his fellow coworkers, who were now staring at him, all of their eyes wide.

"I quit," said Sam.

Dean was typing away on his computer when his boss knocked on his door. Dean looked up and managed a semi-forced smile for his boss.

"Can I come in?" asked Mr. Adler.

"Oh, of course," said Dean.

He removed his headset as Mr. Adler shut Dean's office door.

"How are you feeling, Dean?"

"Um, great," answered Dean.

"You look a little tired. Been working hard, I take it?"

Dean glanced over at his computer.

"Yeah."

"Well, don't be modest. I hear everything. And I'm very pleased with what I'm hearing," said Mr. Adler.

He unbuttoned his jacket and sat down in one of the chairs in front of Dean's desk.

"That's why it's so important to me that you're happy."

Mr. Adler took a pen out from his jacket pocket and grabbed a sticky note from Dean's stack lying on his desk. He wrote something down and pushed it over towards Dean.

"How's that for a bonus?" he asked Dean.

Dean grabbed the piece of paper, his eyebrow raising as he stared at it.

"That's very generous," said Dean.

"It's purely selfish, I just want to make sure you're not going anywhere," explained Mr. Adler, a smirk on his face.

Dean looked over at him and then back down at the piece of paper.

"Wow. Are you sure?" asked Dean.

"Absolutely positive. You are definitely Sandover material, son. A real go-getter, carving your own way."

"Well, thanks, I certainly try."

"I see really big things in your future. Maybe even Senior V.P, Eastern Lakes Division. Now, don't get me wrong, you'll have to work for it. Seven days a week, lunch at your desk. But in eight to ten short years, that could definitely be you, son."

"Um, well, thank you. Thank you very much, sir. But I am giving my notice," said Dean, sliding the sticky note back over to Mr. Adler.

"This is a joke. You're kidding me, right?" asked Mr. Adler.

"No, I… I recently, very recently, realized that I have some other work I have to do. It's, um, very, very important to me."

"Other work, another company?"

"No, I… It's hard to explain. Um, but, it's just, this… It's not who I'm supposed to be."

Mr. Adler stared at him for a few seconds, but then he smirked and began chuckling at Dean.

"What?" asked Dean.

"Dean, Dean, Dean. Finally."

Mr. Adler stood up slightly and leaned over, touching Dean's forehead with two of his fingertips. The room lost all of its color and everything was now in black and white, literally.

"What the hell?"

Dean looked down at himself, touching his tie.

"Why the fuck am I wearing a tie? God, am I hungry," remarked Dean.

"Welcome back."

Dean stood up from his chair, looking at the man across from him.

"Wait, did I just get touched by a… Are you a… You're an angel, aren't you?" asked Dean.

"I'm Zachariah."

"Oh, great, that's all I need is another one of you all."

"I'm hardly another one, Dean, I'm Castiel's superior. And believe me, I had no interest in popping down here into another one of these smelly things. But after the unfortunate situation with Uriel, I felt it necessary to pay a visit. Get all of my ducks in a row."

"I am not one of your ducks," said Dean, stepping towards him.

"Starting with your attitude."

"Oh, so what? This was all some sort of a lesson, is that what you're telling me? Wow. Very creative. So what, I'm just hallucinating all of this?" asked Dean.

Zachariah shook his head.

"Not at all. This is a real place, real haunting. I just plunked you all in the middle without the benefit of your memories."

"Just to shake things up? Hmm? So you all can have fun watching us run around like ass clowns in monkey suits?"

"To prove to you that the path you're currently on is truly in your blood. You're a hunter, Dean. Not because your Dad made you, not because God called you back from Hell but because it is what you are. And you love it, you'll find your way back to it in the dark every single time because you're miserable without it. Dean, let's be real here, you're great at this. You'll be successful and you will stop it."

Dean looked up at his last statement.

"Stop what, exactly? The apocalypse that I started? Huh? Lucifer? What? Be specific, man!"

"You'll do everything you're destined to do, trust me on this one, Dean. All of it. I know, I know, you're not strong enough, right? You're scared, you've got daddy issues, and you can't do it, right?"

"Angel or not, I will stab you in your face."

Zachariah chuckled at this.

"Look, all I'm saying is it's how you look at it. Most folks live and die without moving anything but the dirt it takes to bury them, you get to change things here."

Dean shook his head, rolling his eyes at Zachariah.

"Save people. Maybe even save the world. All the while, you drive a classic car and fornicate with women. This isn't a curse. It's a gift. So for God's sake, Dean, quit whining about it. Look around you here. There are plenty of fates worse than yours. So, are you with me? You wanna go steam yourself another latte? Or are you ready to stand up? And be who you really are?" asked Zachariah.

Dean took in a sharp breath as he stared at the angel in front of him.

A few days later, Dean, Alex, and Sam walked into a comic book store. Alex cringed at all of the looks she received from the guys in the store. The three siblings walked up to the counter and the guy behind the counter looked at the three of them expectantly.

"Um, can I help you three?" he asked them.

"I sure hope so. We're agents with the FBI and we just need to ask you a few questions," explained Dean, flashing his badge in the man's face.

"Have you happened to notice anything strange in the building within the last couple of days?" asked Sam, tucking his own badge back into his jacket pocket.

"Like what?" asked the cashier.

"Well, some other tenants reported flickering lights," explained Dean.

"Um, I don't think so. Why?"

"What about noises? Any skittering in the walls, kind of like rats?" asked Alex.

"So the FBI is investigating a rodent problem now?"

"What about cold spots? Feel any sudden drops of temperature?" asked Sam, ignoring the man's snarky remark.

Suddenly, a grin spread across the man's face and he pointed at all of them.

"I knew it! You guys are LARPing, aren't you?"

"Um, excuse me?" asked Alex, looking seriously offended.

"You're fans!"

"Fans of what?"

"What is LARPing, exactly?" asked Dean.

"Like you don't know. Live action role-playing! And pretty hardcore, too," explained the man.

"Okay, we have no clue what you're talking about," said Alex.

"You're all asking questions like this building's haunted. Like those siblings from the books. What are they called, um… oh! Supernatural. Three siblings, use fake ID's with aliases and hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires. What are their names? Uh, Steve… Sal… Dane… Lexi…"

Alex looked at her brothers.

"Sam, Dean, and Alex?" she guessed.

The man pointed at her triumphantly.

"That's it, those are their names!"

"And you're saying this is a book?" asked Dean.

"Books. It was a series. We didn't sell a lot of copies though. Kind of had more of an underground cult following. I might still have some actually…"

The man stood up from his seat behind the cash register and headed for the bargain bin in the store. Sam, Alex, and Dean followed him as he grabbed a book from the bin and handed it over to Dean.

"Here you are. That's even the first one, I believe!"

"Supernatural by Carver Edlund. 'Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious Woman in White lures men to their deaths'," read Dean from the back of the book.

"Give me that," whispered Sam, grabbing it from Dean's hands.

He began flipping through the pages of the book and then he looked at the cashier.

"We're gonna need all the copies of Supernatural that you've got," ordered Sam.

A few hours later, Dean was lying on his bed, a copy of one of the Supernatural books in his hands. It was the story of Route 666, the ghost truck that they had fought a while back.

"This is freaking insane," remarked Dean, his eyes never leaving the page as he spoke.

"How does this guy even know all of this stuff?" asked Alex, flipping through one of the books as well.

Sam sat at the kitchen table, his laptop open in front of him.

"You got me," said Sam.

"I mean, everything is in here. From the racist truck to me having sex. I'm full frontal in here, guys."

Alex and Sam both made faces of disgust at Dean's remark.

"How come we haven't heard of them before?" asked Dean.

He threw the book in his hands down and stood up from his bed.

"They're pretty obscure, actually. I mean, almost zero circulation. They started in '12, publisher ordered a couple dozen before going bankrupt. And, um, the last one, No Rest for the Wicked, ends with you going to Hell," said Sam.

He pushed the computer over to Dean, who was now sitting down at the table with Sam. Alex still sat on her bed, flipping through more of the books chronicling their lives.

"So I reiterate. Freaking insane," muttered Dean.

"Hey, check this out. There are actually fans of these books. Not that many of 'em, but still, did you read this?" asked Dean.

"Yep," said Sam, scratching the back of his neck and looking away.

"Although their fans sure do complain lot. Listen to this. This chick says, 'The demon storyline is overall craptastic.' Yeah, well, screw you, bitch, we lived it," said Dean.

Sam and Alex chuckled, Alex joining them at the table now, sitting across from Sam.

"Yeah, well, keep on reading," said Sam.

Dean scrolled farther down the page, smirking.

"There are Sam girls and Dean girls. Hey, Lex, there are even a couple Alex dudes," said Dean.

Alex's face brightened as Sam shook his head, a smile on his face.

"But what's a slash fan?" asked Dean, looking confused now.

"As in… Sam/Dean. Together," answered Sam.

Alex's face fell and she tried not to gag. Dean looked over at his brother.

"Like… together together?"

Sam nodded and Dean's eyes widened.

"But they do know we're brothers, right?"

"Doesn't seem to matter."

"Aww, come on, that… That's just sick," said Dean.

He closed out of his tab and slammed the laptop closed.

"We've gotta find this Carver Edlund," said Alex, standing up from the table.

"Yeah, well, that might not be so easy," muttered Sam, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Why not?" asked Dean.

"No tax records, no known address. Looks like Carver Edlund is a pen name."

"Well, someone's gotta know who he is," said Dean.

Alex nodded.

"The publisher."

"So, you published the Supernatural books?" asked Sam, looking at the publisher.

She was a young woman, probably about Alex's age. She had a blonde streak in her hair. She nodded to answer Sam's question.

"Yeah, yeah. These books, you know, they never really got all of the attention they deserved. Everyone wants to read all of that romance crap. Please," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Right. Well, we're hoping that our article can shine a light on your very underappreciated series," explained Alex.

The woman nodded profusely.

"Yes, yes. Because if we got just a little bit of good press then maybe we could start publishing again!"

"No, no, no, no, God, no. I mean, why would you wanna do that, you know? It's, um, such a complete series now. What with… Dean going to Hell and all," explained Dean, smiling warmly at the publisher.

"Oh, my God, that was one of my favorite ones because Dean was so strong and sad and brave. And Sam and Alex. I mean, the best parts are when they all cry."

The three siblings looked lost and confused, but the woman just continued on.

"You know, like in Heart. When Sam had to kill Madison, the first woman since Jessica that he really loved."

Dean and Alex looked over at Sam, who rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw.

"And in Home when Dean had to call John and ask him for help. Gosh," whispered the woman.

She turned away from them, her eyes wet with unshed tears.

"If only real men were so open and in touch with their feelings," she remarked.

Dean's eyebrows rose.

"Real men?" he asked.

The woman whirled around.

"I mean, no offense, but how often do you cry like that? Hmm?"

Dean looked down at the floor while Alex let a laugh escape from her throat. The publisher looked at her strangely and Alex waved her off, turning around to control herself.

"Well right now, I'm crying on the inside," said Dean.

"Was that supposed to be funny?" she asked, looking offended.

"Lady, this whole thing is funny."

"So, how do I know you three are legit, hmm?"

She walked around and sat at her desk. The three siblings sat in the chairs in front of her desk.

"Oh, trust me. We're legit," assured Dean.

"Well, I don't want any smart ass article making fun of my favorite family."

"Oh, no. No, no, no, never," said Alex.

"We are, um, actually really big fans," lied Sam.

"Oh. You've read the books, have you?"

"Just a couple of times," said Dean, smirking at the woman.

"Cover to cover," said Alex, smiling brightly.

Sam nodded in agreement with them.

"What's the year and model of the car?"

"It's a 1967 Chevy Impala," answered Dean.

"What's May 2nd?"

"That's our… um, Sam and Alex's birthday," answered Alex.

"January 24th is Dean's," said Dean.

"Sam's score on the LSAT?"

Dean looked over at Sam, his eyebrows raised.

"1...7…4," guessed Sam.

"Dean's favorite song."

Dean smirked over at her.

"It's a tie. Between Zepp's "Ramblin' On" and "Travelin' Riverside Blues."

The woman smirked, letting out a little giggle.

"Okay. Okay. What do you three want to know?" she asked them.

"What's Carver Edlund's real name?" asked Sam.

The woman blanched.

"Oh, no. No, sorry. I can't tell you that."

"But we just want to talk to him. You know, get the Supernatural story in his own words," said Alex.

"He's very private. Like Salinger."

"Please," said Sam.

"Like I said, we are, um, big, big fans," said Alex.

She nudged Sam, who rolled his eyes. He unbuttoned his jacket and pulled down his shirt just a little bit so that he could see the tattoo over his heart.

The woman looked expectantly over at Alex and Dean. They both sighed, but showed her their charm tattoos as well.

"Awesome," she whispered.

She grabbed a small piece of paper and a marker and wrote an address down.

"His name's Chuck Shirley and he's a genius, so don't piss him off," she warned.

She handed the small piece of paper over to Dean, who took it from her with a smile plastered on his face.

Dean, Alex, and Sam approached the run-down house, looking around to check out the neighborhood. They jogged up the front porch steps and crowded around the front door. They looked at each other and Sam nodded. Dean reached out, pushing the doorbell. After two minutes, the front door opened. A short, very skinny man stood in the doorway. He had on boxers, a gray wife-beater, and a robe. He looked at them, squinting from all of the sunlight pouring into his home.

"Are you Chuck Shirley?" asked Dean, wasting no time.

"The Chuck Shirley who wrote the Supernatural books?" asked Sam.

"Maybe," answered the man.

"Well, I'm Alex. This is my twin brother, Sam, and my older brother, Dean. The same Alex, Sam, and Dean that you've been writing about," she said.

The man nodded his head and then slammed the door closed. Dean reached out and rang the doorbell once again. Sam cleared his throat just as the front door opened again.

"Look, um, I appreciate your enthusiasm. Really, I do. It's always nice to hear from the fans. But for your own good, I strongly suggest that you three all get a life."

He began to slam the door again, but Dean reached out, pushing it open. Chuck looked over at him.

"You see, here's the thing. We have a life. And you've been using it to write all of your books."

Dean shoved his way inside, causing Chuck to stumble backwards. Sam and Alex followed their brother inside the small house, Sam slamming the door closed behind him.

"Now, wait a minute, this isn't funny!" yelled Chuck.

"Damn straight it's not funny," said Dean.

"Look, we really just want to know how you're doing it," said Sam.

"I'm not doing anything."

"Are you a hunter?" asked Alex.

"What? No. I'm a writer."

"Then how do you know so much about demons? And changelings?" asked Dean, stepping towards the smaller man threateningly.

"What do you want?" yelled Chuck, cowering away from all of them.

Alex rolled her eyes, pushing past her brothers to stand in front of Chuck now.

"Look, I'm Alex. And these are my brothers, Sam and Dean."

"Alex, Sam, and Dean are fictional characters. I made them up! They're not real!"

Dean pulled open the trunk of his Impala and removed the fake bottom to reveal their weapons arsenal. Chuck's eyebrows rose.

"Are those real guns?" asked Chuck, looking over at Dean.

"Yup. This is real rock salt, these are real fake ID's," said Dean.

Chuck smirked.

"Well, I've gotta hand it to you all. You really are my number one fans. That's awesome. I think I've got some posters in the house…"

Chuck began walking back towards his house, but Dean slammed the trunk closed and caught up to him.

"Chuck, stop!"

"Please, don't hurt me. Please."

"How much do you know? Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith breaking seals?" asked Sam.

Chuck looked confused.

"Wait a minute, how do you all know about that stuff?"

"The question is, how do you?" asked Alex.

"Because I wrote it."

"So you kept writing?" asked Sam.

"Yeah, even after the publisher went bankrupt, but those books never even came out," explained Chuck.

Sam, Alex, and Dean looked at him expectantly. Chuck smirked, laughing.

"Okay, this is some kind of joke, right? Did Phil put you three up to this?"

Dean sighed.

"Well, nice to meet you. I'm Dean Winchester and these are my siblings, Sam and Alex."

Chuck paused, looking between the three of them.

"Last names were never in the book. I never told anyone about that, I never even wrote that down."

Alex shrugged, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

Back inside Chuck's house, Dean, Alex, and Sam stood around Chuck's desk while Chuck took a long drink from his beer bottle.

"Oh, you three are still here. That wasn't a hallucination," said Chuck, rubbing his eyes.

"Nope," said Dean.

Chuck sighed.

"Well, there's only one explanation. Obviously I'm a god."

Alex rolled her eyes at Chuck's logic.

"You're not a god," said Sam.

"Well, how else do you explain this? I write things and then they come to life? Yeah, no, I'm definitely a god," said Chuck, looking down at the scattered papers on his desk.

"The things I put you through. The physical beatings alone. I killed your father. I burned your mother alive."

"Chuck," said Sam, trying to grab the guy's attention.

"All for what? God, I toyed with all of your lives. Your emotions for... entertainment."

"You didn't toy with us, Chuck, okay? You didn't create us," explained Alex.

Chuck turned back around to face all three of them, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised questioningly.

"Did you really have to live through all of those bugs?"

Sam sighed deeply.

"Yes."

"What about the ghost ship?"

"Yeah, that too," said Alex.

"I am so sorry. I mean, horror is one thing, but to be forced to live bad writing… if I would've known it was real, I would've done another pass."

"Chuck, you're not a god!" yelled Dean.

"We think you're probably just psychic," explained Sam.

Chuck shook his head, sitting down at his desk now.

"Nah. If I were a psychic, you think I'd be writing? Writing is hard."

"It seems that somehow you're just focused on our lives," said Alex.

"Chuck, are you working on anything right now?" asked Dean.

Chuck looked at his computer screen and then looked back up at them.

"Holy shit."

"What?" asked Dean, looking a little worried now.

Chuck picked up the pieces of paper that were lying under his glasses.

"The, um, latest book… It's, um, kind of weird," explained Chuck.

"Weird how?" asked Alex, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth worriedly.

"It's very… Vonnegut."

"Slaughterhouse Five Vonnegut or Cat's Cradle Vonnegut?" asked Dean.

Sam and Alex looked at him like he was crazy.

"What?" asked Alex.

Dean looked over at his siblings.

"What?"

Sam and Alex shook their heads and Dean looked back over towards Chuck.

"It's, uh, Kilgore TroutVonnegut. I wrote myself into it. I wrote myself at my house, confronted by my characters."

At the Laundromat later that day, Sam was pulling clothes out of a duffel bag while Dean and Alex sat on the table next to Sam.

"I'm sitting in a Laundromat reading about myself sitting in a Laundromat reading about myself. My head hurts," whined Dean.

"There's gotta be something this guy's not telling us," said Sam.

He shoved a pile of jeans and shirts into the nearest washer.

"'Sam tossed his gigantic pile of darks into the machine. He was starting to have doubts about Chuck, about whether he was telling the whole truth,'" read Dean.

He gave Sam a look while Alex smirked.

"Stop it," said Sam.

"'Stop it, Sam said.'"

"Guess what you do next?" asked Alex, reading over Dean's shoulder.

Sam said nothing and turned away from his siblings.

"'Sam turned his back on Alex and Dean, his face brooding and pensive.'"

"I mean, I have no clue how he's doing it, but this guy is doing it. We can't see your face, but those are definitely your brooding and pensive shoulders," remarked Alex.

Dean smirked and gave her a fist bump.

"Nice."

Sam sighed deeply. Dean looked down at the paper.

"You just thought we were acting like dicks," said Dean.

Sam turned to face them then.

"That guy's good," said Sam.

Alex and Dean frowned and Sam chuckled at their faces.

The next morning, the Winchesters were back at Chuck's house. This time though, they were sitting in his living room while Chuck paced in front of them.

"So, you wrote another chapter?" asked Sam, raising his eyebrows.

Chuck stopped pacing and stood in the middle of his living room, right in front of his coffee table.

"This was all so much easier before you three were real," said Chuck.

"We can all take it, just spit it out," said Dean.

Chuck looked down at his paper and then back up at Dean.

"You especially aren't going to like this, Dean. And Alex, you'll probably be upset too," warned Chuck.

Sam looked worried now as Alex pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth. Dean's face was stony.

"I didn't like Hell," remarked Dean.

Chuck nodded and looked back down at the papers in his hands again.

"It's Lilith. She's coming for Sam."

"Coming to kill him?" asked Dean.

"When?" asked Sam, moving closer to Chuck.

"Tonight."

"So she's just gonna show up, here?" asked Alex.

Chuck put his glasses on and flipped through the pages in his hands until he found the right one.

"'Lilith patted the bed seductively. Unable to deny his desire, Sam succumbed and they sank into the throes of fiery, demonic passion,'" read Chuck.

Sam started laughing while Alex and Dean looked over at him.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"You think this is funny," stated Dean.

"And you don't? I mean, come on. Fiery, demonic passion?"

"Well, it's just a first draft," argued Chuck, shrugging his shoulders.

"Wait, wait, wait. Lilith is a little girl," said Alex, her eyebrow pulling together with confusion.

"No, this time, she's a comely dental hygienist from Bloomington, Indiana," said Chuck, looking down at the papers in his hands.

"Great. Perfect. So what happens after the fiery, demonic whatever?" asked Dean.

Chuck shrugged.

"I don't honestly know. It hasn't come to me yet."

"Dean, look, there's absolutely nothing to worry about. Lilith and me? In bed?"

Dean looked at Sam and then turned back to Chuck.

"How does this whole psychic thing of yours work?"

"You mean my process? Well, it usually starts with a headache, so I drink until I fall asleep. The first time it happened, I thought it was just some crazy dream," explained Chuck.

"The first time you dreamt about us?" asked Alex.

"It flowed. It just kept flowing. It still does, I can't stop it really."

"You two can't seriously believe-" began Sam.

"Humor us," said Dean, interrupting him.

"Look, why don't we just take a look at these and see what's what?" asked Alex.

Chuck was already holding the papers out to her when she turned to him. She looked at him expectantly.

"Already knew you were gonna ask me for those," whispered Chuck.

"Right," said Alex, taking the pages from him.

In the Impala, Dean was driving while Sam flipped through the pages Chuck had just written about them, Alex looking over his shoulder as he read.

"Guys, come on. All of this is totally implausible, it's nuts," said Sam.

"Sam, the dude's been right about everything so far. You think he's just gonna ground out at first now?" asked Dean.

Sam rolled his eyes and looked back at the papers.

"Well, he might be wrong about the details, but that doesn't mean he's wrong about the end result," said Alex.

"So we're just gonna run away?" asked Sam.

"Sam, we are a long way from ready for a face-to-face death match with Lilith," said Dean.

Sam shook his head and looked out the front windshield. His eyebrows pulled together in confusion when he saw two police cars blocking the way out of town. Dean slowed to a stop and rolled down his window as one police officer walked up to the car.

"What seems to be the problem?" asked Dean.

The police officer bent down to be eye level with Dean, smiling warmly at all of them.

"The bridge is out up ahead," he explained.

"Well, we're just trying to get out of town," said Dean.

"Yeah, I'm afraid not."

"Is there a detour somewhere nearby?"

"Nope. To get to the highway, you have to cross that river. To cross the river, you have to take that bridge."

"How deep's the river?"

"I'm sorry, son. I'm afraid you kids will have to spend the night in town."

Dean looked at his siblings and shrugged. He gave the police officer a wave before rolling up his window and throwing his car into reverse.

Alex sat between her two brothers at the diner in town. Sam was glancing at the menu while Dean was poring over the pages Chuck had just given them a few hours before. Alex picked at her fingernails, sighing.

"Hey, this could actually be a really good thing. I mean, if this is what puts us on the path to Lilith, then all we've gotta do is get off the path," said Dean.

"Dean, what are you talking about?" asked Alex, looking over at him.

"This is a blueprint of what not to do. I mean, if the pages say that we go left, then…"

"We turn right instead," finished Sam.

"Exactly! We get off book, we never make it to the end. It's opposite day. It says that we get into a fight, so no fighting. No research for you," said Dean, pointing over at Sam.

"Then no bacon cheeseburger for you, Dean," said Alex.

Dean looked at her, his lips in a pout. Alex chuckled.

"Sorry, bro. You're too predictable."

Sam and Alex smirked while Dean looked back down at the pages he had in front of him.

"Yeah, no problem. I'll just order something else."

The waitress walked up to them then, smiling warmly at them.

"Hello," she said.

"Hi. What's good here?" asked Dean, grabbing a menu from off of the table and skimming over it.

"Well, if you like burgers, Oprah's girlfriend said we have the best bacon cheeseburgers in the country."

Sam and Alex chuckled while Dean groaned quietly to himself.

"I'll just have the Cobb salad, please," requested Sam.

"I'll have the veggie tofu burger," ordered Dean.

"And for you, sweetheart?" asked the waitress, smiling over at Alex.

"I'll just have an order of French fries, please."

The waitress nodded and removed all of their menus from the tabletop.

"This whole thing's just ridiculous," said Sam, shaking his head.

"Lilith's ridiculous?" asked Dean.

"The idea of me hooking up with her is."

Dean chuckled darkly.

"Right. 'Cause something like that would never happen."

Alex cleared her throat nervously and looked down at the tabletop. Sam shook his head.

"Dean, for the first time, we have warning that Lilith is close."

"So?"

"So, we've got the jump on her. If we know when she's coming, we know where… This is an opportunity," explained Sam.

"Are you…"

Dean held himself back from yelling, realizing they couldn't fight.

"It, um, frustrates me when you say such reckless things, Sam."

"Well, it frustrates me when you'd rather hide than fight," shot back Sam.

Alex looked between her two brothers, biting her lip nervously. The waitress reappeared with their food, setting it down in front of them.

"Thank you," said Alex, watching her walk away from their table.

"It's not hiding, it's being smart. It's picking your battles and this is a battle that we're not ready for at all," said Dean.

He picked up his veggie tofu burger and took a large bite.

"Oh, my God. This is delicious! Tofu is amazing!" exclaimed Dean.

As he got ready to take another bite, their waitress approached their table, looking severely apologetic.

"I'm so sorry. I gave you the bacon cheeseburger by mistake," she explained.

She grabbed Dean's burger and his plate and took it back to the kitchen. Alex's eyes widened and Dean looked depressed.

Dean unzipped his duffel bag as it rested on his bed. Alex looked around their motel room, her face one of disgust.

"This place is horrible. And it charges by the freaking hour," whined Alex.

"Yeah, well, Lilith finds Sammy at the Red Motel. Hence, the hooker inn," said Dean.

Alex nodded sadly and watched as Dean began placing hex bags around their room.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Sam, looking confused now.

"A couple of hex bags ought to Lilith-proof the room," explained Dean, placing one behind the fridge.

"So, what, I'm supposed to just hole up here all night?" asked Sam.

"That's exactly what you're gonna do, alright? And no researching. Hell, I don't care what you do all night," said Dean.

He nodded to Alex, who sighed, but walked over to Sam's bag and took out his computer, holding it in her arms.

"Come on, guys," pouted Sam.

"Just call it a little insurance," said Dean.

Sam sighed, but let it go.

"What are you guys gonna do?" he asked them.

"Well, the pages say we spend all day riding around in the Impala. So, I'm gonna go park her," said Dean.

He followed Alex to the door.

"Behave yourself, Sammy. No homework, alright? Watch some porn," said Dean.

Alex smacked his arm, but Dean smirked as he followed her out of the motel room. Sam looked depressed as he stood in the middle of the motel room, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets.

Dean parked the Impala and he and Alex headed across the street. As they were walking, Dean looked back and saw two punk kids trying to break into his car.

"Hey!" he called out, startling the kids.

As Dean ran out into the street, Alex screamed as a minivan came from out of nowhere, running into Dean. The van blared on its horn, but it was way too late. Dean had already been hit and he was lying in the middle of the street, unconscious as Alex rushed over to him.

A knock sounded on the motel room door. Sam opened it slowly to reveal Chuck, his hands in his pockets as he stood in front of Sam. Chuck looked up at him, a little nervously.

"You wanted to see me?" asked Chuck.

Sam nodded, stepping aside to let Chuck inside the motel room.

"Thanks for coming," said Sam.

"Yeah, sure thing," whispered Chuck.

He stood in the middle of the motel room and Sam stood across the room, facing him. Sam crossed his arms over his chest.

"Um, I was wondering how much you actually know. About me."

"What do you mean?" asked Chuck.

Sam sighed.

"Have you seen visions of me… when I'm not with Alex and Dean?"

Chuck took in a sharp breath, looking down at the floor.

"Oh. You want to know if I know about the demon blood."

Sam looked away, a little ashamed.

"You didn't tell my siblings?"

"I didn't even write it into any of my books. I was afraid it would make you look unsympathetic."

"Unsympathetic?"

"Yeah, come on, Sam. I mean, sucking blood? You've gotta know that's wrong," said Chuck.

Sam shook his head and sighed, sitting down at the small kitchen table in the motel room. Chuck sat across from him.

"It scares the hell out of me. I mean, I feel it inside of me. And I wish to God I could stop."

"But you keep going back, Sam."

"What choice have I got? If it helps me kill Lilith and stop the apocalypse…"

"I thought that was Dean's job. Isn't that what the angels say?"

Sam shook his head.

"Dean's not… He's not Dean lately. Ever since he got out of Hell. He needs some serious help."

"So that means you've gotta carry all the weight? You do realize Alex is still around, don't you?"

"Dean's looked out for me my whole life. And I've looked out for Alex, it's my job. It's my turn to return the favor now."

"Is that what this is, Sam? Returning the favor?"

"Well, what else would it be?"

Chuck shook his head.

"I don't know, you tell me. Maybe the demon blood makes you feel stronger? More in control."

"No. That's not at all true."

"I'm sorry, Sam. I know it's a terrible burden, feeling that it all rests on your shoulders. Unfortunately, that seems to be where this story is headed. But let Alex in, let her help you. She may surprise you," explained Chuck.

Sam let out a deep sigh, but nodded. He looked into Chuck's face.

"Am I strong enough to stop Lilith tonight?" he asked Chuck.

"I don't know, Sam. I haven't actually seen that far in advance yet," answered Chuck.

Alex let out a deep sigh of relief when she saw Dean's eyes begin to flutter open. His eyes opened slowly and she closed her eyes, sending up a silent prayer.

"Alright, take it easy, bro," whispered Alex.

Dean nodded very slowly and began to sit up, wincing as he did so. Alex helped him sit up, a small crowd of people surrounding them.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't even see you," said one woman.

Dean glanced over at her and saw that she had a blonde bob haircut and was wearing dangling star earrings. He saw the van behind him and he winced once again.

"Sorry about the pink Band-Aids. My doctor's going through a bit of a doctoring phase," explained the woman.

"What are you talking about?" asked Dean.

Alex nudged him and pointed to his forehead. Dean reached up and felt two Band-Aids on his forehead. The little girl next to Alex smiled up at him, her brown hair falling down to the middle of her back.

"You're all better now," she assured Dean.

Dean nodded slowly and looked over at his car. The back rear window had been smashed in, glass all over the backseat.

"Oh no," whispered Dean.

Alex bit her lip as she also looked over at the Impala. Dean swiftly began walking over to his car, the small crowd dispersing as he walked away. Dean looked angry as he saw his back windshield. He saw his reflection in one of the windows and he finally saw the pink Band-Aids that were placed on his forehead. He peeled one off and cursed.

"Alex, get in the car. We're going back to see Chuck," said Dean.

"A please would've been nice," muttered Alex.

She obliged Dean's request and strapped herself into the passenger seat.

Dean was sitting in an armchair while Alex was perched on the couch, flipping through more pages of Chuck's writing when Chuck finally walked into his own living room. He held a six-pack of beer in his arms and a bag of takeout in his other hand.

"Dean. Alex," said Chuck, not surprised at all to see the two of them.

"I take it you knew we'd be here," said Dean.

"You look terrible, Dean."

"That's because I just got hit by a mini-van, Chuck."

"Oh," whispered Chuck, looking down at his floor.

Dean leaned forward in his chair.

"Is that all you have to say?" yelled Dean.

"Please don't yell at me," said Chuck.

Dean stood up from his chair while Chuck placed the six-pack of beer on his coffee table. Alex stood up quickly and placed a hand on Dean's chest, stopping him from charging at Chuck. Alex whirled around to face Chuck, who smiled at her warmly. Alex smiled back at him gently.

"Dean here has the feeling that there's something you're not telling us," explained Alex.

"What wouldn't I be telling you?" asked Chuck.

"How you know what you know, for starters!" yelled Dean.

Alex turned around and gave him a threatening look. Dean glared back at her, but she turned back around to face Chuck once again.

"Look, I don't know how I know these things about you, I just do."

"That's just not good enough," said Dean.

He barreled past Alex and grabbed Chuck by the lapels of his jacket. He shoved Chuck back into the nearest wall, Chuck wincing.

"How the hell are you doing this?" yelled Dean.

"Dean, you let him go!" yelled Alex.

Suddenly, she felt a presence beside her. She looked over and Castiel was standing next to her, staring at Dean's back.

"Dean, let him go," ordered Castiel.

Dean quickly let go of Chuck and whirled around to face Castiel.

"This man is to be protected."

"Why?" asked Dean.

"He's a prophet of the Lord."

"You… You're Castiel," whispered Chuck, a tone of reverence and awe in his voice.

Dean, Alex, and Castiel looked at Chuck then.

"It's an honor to meet you, Chuck. I admire your work," said Castiel, grabbing one of the books from off of an end table.

"This guy's a fucking prophet of the Lord?" asked Dean, his eyebrows raised.

Alex rolled her eyes and smacked his arm. He turned to face her.

"You can't say fuck when you say the Lord's name! Jesus!"

Dean ignored her and turned back to face Castiel, who was looking between the two of them, amused.

"Did you know about this?" yelled Dean, looking over at Chuck.

"I, um, might've dreamt about it once."

"And you didn't say anything?" asked Alex.

"It was way too preposterous," explained Chuck.

He took a drink from a beer and Alex sighed.

"This is the guy who decides our fate?" asked Dean, leaning in towards Castiel, who nodded.

"He isn't deciding anything, he's simply just a mouthpiece. A conduit for the inspired Word."

"The Word?" asked Alex.

"The Word of God? What is this, the New New Testament?" asked Dean.

"One day, these books will be known as the Winchester Gospel," said Castiel.

Alex snorted while Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, Cas. You've gotta be kidding me."

"I am not kidding you."

Suddenly, Chuck stood up, brushing past all of them to run upstairs.

"Him? Are you kidding me?" whispered Alex, glancing back at the stairs that Chuck had just disappeared up.

"You two should've seen Luke."

Dean scoffed and Alex sat back down on Chuck's couch, running a hand through her hair in frustration.

"Why'd he get tapped anyway?" asked Dean.

"I don't know how prophets are chosen. The order comes high up from the chain of command list."

"How high?" asked Alex, biting her lip again.

"Very high."

"Well, whatever. Now, how do we work our way around this?" asked Dean.

"How do we stop the Sam and Lilith love connection from happening?" asked Alex.

Castiel looked up at the ceiling and then down at the floor.

"What the prophet has written can't be unwritten. As he has seen it, so it shall come to pass," explained Castiel.

Alex turned away from her brother and Castiel, cursing under her breath. She walked into Chuck's kitchen and saw a bunch of empty beer bottles on the table. She screamed in frustration and flung them all to the ground. Castiel didn't look surprised as Dean rushed into the kitchen. He wrapped Alex up into his arms from behind, trapping her with his body. She shoved against him, but he ever eased up.

"Why is this happening, Dean? Why Sammy, why us?" cried Alex.

She turned around to face him, tears streaming down her face. Dean sighed, pulling her into his embrace. He closed his eyes as he kissed the top of her head gently.

"I don't know, Alex. I don't know."

Dean parked the Impala swiftly, shutting it off and climbing out in one smooth motion. As he headed for their motel room, Alex grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

"Dean, look," she whispered, pointing up to the sign.

Dean looked up and saw that half of the bulbs in the sign were now burnt out and all it said was "Red Motel." Dean cursed under his breath and marched over to their room, Alex scrambling to keep up. Dean threw open the door and walked up to Sam.

"Let's go," he ordered.

"What? Where?" asked Sam.

"Anywhere, alright? We're getting out of this motel room, out of this town. I don't care how, but all three of us are getting out of here," said Dean.

Dean began gathering up his things while Alex looked around, sensing that something was off. She glanced at the nightstand and saw that the hex bag Dean had set there earlier in the day was now missing. She looked over at Sam in the middle of the room. He had his hands on his hips and was staring straight at her.

"Sammy. Where are the hex bags?" she asked him, afraid to know the answer.

Dean stopped what he was doing and watched Sam as he answered Alex.

"I burned them."

"You did what?" asked Dean.

"Look, if Lilith is coming, which is a big if-"

"No, no, no, it's more than an if. Chuck isn't a psychic like we originally thought. No, he's a freaking prophet of the Lord. Castiel showed up and apparently, Chuck is writing the Gospel of us," explained Dean.

Sam looked very confused.

"Um, okay?"

"Okay, let's get the hell out of here," said Alex, heading for the door.

Sam sighed, closing his eyes briefly.

"No."

Alex stopped and turned around to face him, as did Dean.

"Lilith is going to slaughter you," said Dean, beginning to get even angrier now.

"Maybe she will or maybe she won't."

"So what, you think you can suddenly take her?" asked Dean.

"Well, there's only one way to find out, Dean, and I say bring her on."

"Sam!"

"You think I'll do it, don't you? You think I'll go dark side."

"Yes, okay? Yes. The way you've been acting lately, the things you've been doing."

Sam's face looked worried and Alex's face paled visibly as she began furiously biting on her lip until she began tasting blood.

"Oh, I know. I know how you ripped Alistair apart just like it was nothing to you. Castiel told me, alright?"

"What else did he tell you?"

"Nothing I don't already know. That you've been using your psychic crap and you've been getting stronger. We just don't know why or how," explained Dean.

"Look, it's not what you think," whispered Sam.

"Then what is it, Sam? 'Cause I'm at a total loss," yelled Dean.

Sam said nothing, but just stared at his older brother. Dean smirked nastily and marched back over to pack more of his stuff in his duffel bag resting on one of the two beds. Once he was finished, he stormed over to the door, stopping right before he reached Alex's form. He turned around to look at his brother.

"Are you coming or not, Sam?"

Sam faced both of them, letting out a deep breath.

"No."

Dean threw down his duffel bag on one of the kitchen chairs and brushed past Alex, opening the door. He stepped outside first and Alex followed him out after she glanced at Sam sadly.

Alex didn't move a muscle as she heard Castiel land on the step beside here. He sat down beside her, Dean on his other side.

"Does this mean you're here to help us?" asked Dean, glancing over at Castiel.

"I'm not really sure what I can do to help," answered Castiel.

"Drag Sam out of here, now, before Lilith shows up," said Alex.

"It's a prophecy. I can't interfere."

"You have tested me and thrown me every which way. And I have never asked for anything in return. Not a damn thing. I need your help, Castiel. Please," pleaded Dean.

Castiel looked up at the sky briefly before facing Dean.

"What you two are asking is not within my power to do."

"Why? 'Cause it's a Divine Prophecy?" asked Dean.

"Yes!"

"So, what, we're just supposed to sit around and wait for it to happen?" asked Alex.

Castiel looked at her and then looked back at Dean.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Dean's face hardened.

"Fuck you. You and your mission. Your God. If you don't help me now, then when the time comes and you need me, you need us, don't bother knocking," said Dean.

He nodded to Alex and they both stood up, brushing past Castiel and walking away from him.

"Dean. Dean!"

Both Dean and Alex turned around to face him again.

"What?" yelled Dean.

"You must understand why I can't intercede. Prophets are protected. If anything threatens a prophet, anything at all, an archangel will appear to destroy that threat. Archangels are fierce. They're absolute. They're Heaven's most terrifying weapon."

"And these archangels, they're tied to prophets?" asked Dean.

"Yes."

"So if a prophet was in the same room as a demon…" began Alex.

"Then Heaven's fiercest weapon would rain down on that demon," finished Castiel.

Dean and Alex looked deep in thought while Castiel nodded.

"Just so you two are clear and understand. Why I can't help you."

Alex smirked and Castiel gave her a meaningful look, actually winking at her as well. Her smirk grew wider across her face.

"Thanks, Cas," said Dean.

Castiel nodded.

"Good luck, you two."

Dean pushed open the door to Chuck's house and walked into the living room to see Chuck nursing a glass of scotch, wrapped up in a blanket. He looked over at Dean, actually surprised to see him there.

"What are you doing here?" asked Chuck.

"Come on. I need you to come with me," explained Dean.

He pulled Chuck to his feet and they headed for the front door.

"What, where?"

"To the motel where Sam is."

"That's where Lilith is though."

"Yeah, exactly, I need you to stop her."

"Are you insane? Lilith? I know perfectly well what she's capable of, Dean. I wrote her."

"Alright, listen to me. You have an archangel tethered to you, okay? All you've gotta do is show up and boom! Lilith gets smoked."

"But I haven't even seen that yet…."

"Chuck, you're the only shot that Alex and I've got left. Please," begged Dean.

Chuck looked at Dean's face and nodded slowly. Dean grabbed him by the elbow and led him towards the front door to the Impala where Alex was waiting for them.

A knock sounded on the motel room door. Sam took in a deep breath and stood up, walking over to answer it. He reached it, pulling open the door. No was there and all he saw were the trees blowing in the night breeze. He sighed and shut the door, turning around. Once he was turned around, he saw Lilith standing in front of him. She smirked over at him.

"Hello, Sam."

"I've been waiting for you," replied Sam.

Lilith's smirk remained on her face as her eyes rolled back into her head, revealing her pure white irises. After a few seconds, they returned back to a normal color.

"Where's the knife, Sam?"

"On the nightstand. By the bed."

Lilith began walking towards the bed. She stopped as she reached the ugly pink carpet and bent down, picking up one corner to reveal a Devil's Trap drawn on the hardwood floor beneath it. She touched a finger to it and it evaporated instantly. She put the carpet back down and faced Sam once again, her smirk now gone.

"You're going to have to try a lot harder than that," she remarked.

"How 'bout this?" asked Sam.

He held out his palm towards Lilith, trying to exorcize her. Lilith just stood there, her face emotionless as Sam's powers failed to work on her. Sam lowered his hand, his eyes wide.

"You're strong. But you're not that strong. Not yet, at least."

"So why don't you throw me around then?"

"Because I can't and you know it. You're immune to my charms. It seems as if we're at a stalemate."

"Why are you here?" asked Sam.

"Just to talk."

"Yeah, well. I'm not interested."

"Mmm, even if I'm offering to stand down? From the seals. The apocalypse. All of it."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Honestly? No. You were always the smart one. But it's the truth. You can end this, Sam. Right here, right now. I'll stop breaking seals, Lucifer keeps rotting in his cage. And all you have to do is agree to my terms."

"And why would you back down? Why now, huh?"

Lilith turned her back on him, walking towards one of the beds.

"Turns out I don't survive this war. Killed off. Right before the good part starts," said Lilith, facing him once again.

Sam sneered over at her.

"What do you want?"

Lilith shrugged.

"For it to go back to the way it was. Before I had to deal with angels all day, every day. Back to the good old days. When it was all baby blood all the time."

Sam nodded.

"And what do you want in return?"

Lilith smirked, cocking her head to one side,

"Your head on a stick, of course. Dean and Alex's too. Call it a… consolation prize. So what do you say, Sam? Self-sacrifice is the Winchester way, isn't it?"

"And you really think I'm stupid enough to fall for all of this, any of this?" asked Sam, glaring daggers at her now.

"I make a deal, I have to follow through. Those are the rules and you know it," stated Lilith, beginning to get angry with Sam.

Sam glared down at her still.

"Are you really so arrogant that you would put your life before the lives of six billion innocent people? Maybe it's all of that demon blood pumping through your system. A man after my own heart."

"So you think I'm just like you, huh? I am nothing like you!" yelled Sam.

Lilith didn't even flinch.

"Then prove it. Going once…"

Lilith turned her back on him and began walking away.

"Going twice…"

"Fine!" yelled Sam.

Lilith turned back around to face him, smirking.

"Swell. By the way, a contract with me will take more than a kiss. A lot more," said Lilith.

She sat down on one of the beds and patted the spot next to her.

"But don't worry. The dental hygienist in here… She wants it bad."

Sam slowly walked over to the bed that Lilith was sitting on. Once Sam was close enough, Lilith ran a hand up his thigh, Sam clenching his fists at his sides. Her eyes were pure white once again, but they turned back to a normal color as she pulled Sam down to the bed. Lilith smirked up at Sam above her, but Sam quickly reached out and grabbed the knife off of the nightstand. Lilith was too quick and grabbed his arm before he could stab her with it. As she rolled them over and climbed atop him, the door was kicked in. Dean shoved Chuck into the room first, and then he and Alex followed Chuck inside. Chuck's eyes widened as he took in the sight of Lilith in front of him.

"I am the prophet, Chuck!" he yelled.

Alex rolled her eyes while Lilith just looked confused. She rolled off of Sam and headed towards the three of them.

"You have got to be joking," said Lilith.

As soon as she got to the middle of the room, the whole entire room began shaking.

"Oh, this is no joke. You see, Chuck here's got an archangel on his shoulder. You've got about ten seconds before this room is full of wrath and you're a piece of charcoal!" yelled Dean.

The room began to fill up with a bright white light as paintings fell off of the walls and plates crashed to the floor, shattering into a million little tiny pieces.

"Are you sure you want to tangle with that?" asked Dean, yelling to be heard over the roar of the noise.

Lilith looked up to the ceiling as pieces of it began falling down. She glared over at Sam one final time before opening her mouth, releasing the demon inside of her body. The cloud of big black smoke flew out of the window of the motel room and Lilith's former body fell to the floor. The room slowly stopped quaking and they all caught their breath. Once the room was finally back to normal, Dean, Alex, and Chuck moved closer to the blonde woman lying on the floor. Alex shook her head sadly, looking over at Sam.

"So, a deal, huh?" asked Dean.

He glanced over at Sam in the passenger seat, but Sam was looking out of his own window.

"Yep, that's what she said," responded Sam.

"To call the whole entire thing off? Angels, seals, Lucifer rising, the whole nine yards?" asked Alex, leaning forward from the backseat to listen closely.

"That's the gist of it," said Sam, not looking back at her.

"Huh," said Dean.

Sam finally looked over at one of them.

"What?"

"And you didn't think once about taking it?" asked Dean.

"Dean, are you kidding me? You just spent all day trying to talk me off the Lilith crack."

"I'm just saying," remarked Dean.

Sam turned back to looking out of his passenger side window.

"She would've found some way to weasel out of it, I'm sure," said Sam.

"Yeah, and all it would've cost us was our lives," said Alex.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," said Dean.

"But anyway, that's not the point," said Sam.

"Well, what's the point?" asked Alex.

"The point is, she's scared. I could see it. Lilith is running," said Sam, a weird smirk on his face now.

Alex looked away from him, goosebumps breaking out on her arms.

"Running from what?" asked Dean, glancing over at his brother.

"I don't know. But she was telling the truth about one thing, that's for sure. She's not gonna survive the apocalypse. I'll make sure of that," said Sam.

Alex looked into the rearview mirror, her bottom lip in between her teeth. Dean looked into the mirror to see Alex and he didn't like what he saw there. Fear mixed with guilt, as if there was something she wasn't telling him. Dean looked ahead to pay attention to the road, but he was going to find out whatever Alex was hiding from him.