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.

46. Same Mistakes

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. I am SO sorry that it has taken me forever to update.

Anyway, this story is getting a little long, so I may begin writing the sequel/continuation soon! Thanks for sticking with me and still reading! It is very much appreciated!

Chapter 46

Previously in At Hell's Gates:

"I-We need some help down here. Please?" begged Dean, asking the angels and Heaven for all of their help.

As he lowered his head down from the sky and his tears finally began to fall rapidly, Alex threw herself into his arms. Dean grabbed onto his little sister, using her as an anchor while they both cried for Sam. He buried his head into her shoulder and kissed the top of her head, thanking God for her.

A few days later, the three Winchester siblings climbed out of the Impala, which was parallel parked in front of a small diner in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Sam held his cell phone up to his left ear.

"Bobby, listen. As soon as you get this message, please call! Okay?"

Sam sighed as he hung up his cell phone.

"Is he still not home?" asked Alex.

"I mean, how far could he get in that damn wheelchair anyway?" asked Dean.

He pulled open the door to the diner and the three siblings stopped right in the middle of the restaurant.

"So what do we do now?" asked Alex, looking between her two brothers. Dean looked around, spotting a man sitting alone in a corner booth of the diner. He tilted his chin towards the man, causing Sam and Alex to discreetly turn around and look over the man as well.

"Well, I guess we just do it all ourselves," answered Dean.

He headed for the man in the booth, Sam and Alex following after him.

After all four occupants of the corner booth had a steaming hot cup of black coffee sitting directly in front of them, Dean turned his gaze over to the man.

"Mr. Wells, why don't you start by telling us what you saw."

"It's Digger," responded the man.

"Digger?" asked Dean, his eyebrows raised.

The man nodded.

"Who gave you that name?" asked Sam.

"I did," answered Digger, looking slightly confused.

"You gave yourself your own nickname?" asked Alex.

"Okay, why don't you just tell us what you saw," said Sam, turning the attention away from the man's dumb nickname.

"I saw Clay Thompson climb into Benny Sutton's trailer through the kitchen window. And then a couple of minutes later, Clay walked out and then Benny's dead."

Dean pulled out a piece of white printer paper from a pocket inside his suit jacket. The paper had a driver's license printed onto it. Dean held it up for Digger to see the man's face straight on.

"Is this the man you saw?" asked Dean.

"I mean, he was all covered with mud, but yes. That's Clay all right."

"And you're fully aware that Clay Thompson died five years ago, correct?" asked Alex.

"Yep."

"And you're absolutely positive that it was this guy?" asked Sam.

Digger straightened up in his seat across from the three siblings. He nodded slowly.

"Digger, can you think of any reason why Clay Thompson would want to kill Benny Sutton?" asked Sam.

Digger scoffed and a smirk crossed his lips. He chuckled, his shoulders shaking.

"Hell yes. Five years ago, Benny's the one that killed Clay in the first place," answered Digger.

"Is that a fact?" asked Alex.

"Well, yeah, it was a so called hunting accident. But if you ask me, Clay came back from the grave to get a little payback."

"Go on," encouraged Dean, looking completely unenthused.

Digger's eyes twinkled as he opened his mouth to start his story. But he groaned as he looked up and spotted someone at the diner's front counter picking up a to-go order.

"Heads up," warned Digger.

The siblings glanced up as a very tall woman wearing a police uniform stopped in front of their booth.

"Digger," she said.

"Sheriff," replied Digger.

She smiled as she looked at the three siblings.

"Hello, you three. I'm Sheriff Jodie Mills. I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting."

Alex, Dean, and Sam held up their fake FBI badges.

"These two are both Agent Dwarfman and I am Agent Neidermeyer," introduced Dean.

"Well, welcome to Sioux Falls. Can I ask you three what you're doing with Digger over here?" asked Jodie.

The three of them put away their extremely fake badges. Digger smirked sarcastically.

"Oh, they're just doing their job because they believe me. Sheriff."

Digger gave her a slight wink at the end of his comment. Jodie looked to the three siblings, her smile waning a bit.

"The FBI believes that a dead man committed a murder?"

"Look, we're just asking Digger here a few questions and that's all," said Sam, showing his pearly whites in a large smile.

"But of course, if a dead man didn't commit the murder then who did?" questioned Dean.

Sam's smile faded and Alex coughed uncomfortably. Jodie crossed her arms over her chest and became very defensive.

"What did you three say your jurisdiction was around here?" she asked, glaring at Dean.

"Our jurisdiction is wherever the United States government sends us, ma'am," shot back Dean.

"Um, yes, how about me and your supervisor have a little chat about that?"

Jodie pulled her cell phone from her pocket as Sam pulled a business card from his wallet. He handed Jodie the white card and she plucked it from his outstretched fingers. She dialed the phone number written on the business card into her cell phone as the three siblings looked on expectantly. After a few seconds, Bobby answered on the other end of the call.

"Yes. Agent Willis, this is Jodie Mills… Bobby?"

The three siblings looked alarmed as Jodie spoke Bobby's name. She glanced over to the three of them.

"Is this Bobby Singer?"

Jodie rolled her eyes as Bobby spoke into her phone. She hung up on him, shoving her cell phone back into her jacket pocket.

"FBI, huh?"

She handed Sam back his business card. He immediately began putting it back into his wallet.

"So, um, you know Bobby Singer," said Alex, not meeting Jodie's eyes.

"That is just a really fun coincidence," said Dean.

He chuckled awkwardly.

"Here's what I know about Bobby Singer. He's a menace around here. He's got himself quite the handful of drunk and disorderlys and mail fraud. Do you three understand me?"

Sam and Alex looked down into their laps.

"I think we all can agree that you've made yourself perfectly clear, yes," answered Dean, giving her a weak smile.

"So whatever all of you were planning, it ends right now. Got that. Agents?" threatened Jodie.

The three siblings nodded and Jodie walked away from their table.

A few hours later, the siblings followed Bobby into his study.

"Bobby, do you have any clue how many times we've called? Where the hell have you been, man?" asked Dean.

"Playing murder ball," answered Bobby.

He stopped in the middle of his study. The siblings all looked around, Alex's face looking slightly disgusted.

"Bobby, what's that smell?" asked Sam.

"Bobby, you cleaned! That's soap!" yelled Alex.

Bobby smiled warmly at her.

"Bobby, seriously," said Dean.

Bobby sighed.

"I've been working. You know, trying to find a way to stop the devil and the whole damn apocalypse."

"Well, gee, thanks. Did you find anything?" asked Dean.

"What do you three think? No, I didn't find a damn thing," answered Bobby.

"Bobby, it's just…"

Sam sat down on the very edge of Bobby's old wooden desk.

"There's a brand new case less than five miles from your damn house," finished Sam.

Bobby's eyebrows pulled together.

"What, the whole damn Benny Sutton thing? That's what this is all about?"

Alex looked at Sam, who shrugged.

"Wait, you knew about all of this?" asked Dean.

Bobby just shrugged.

"I already checked into all of it. There's nothing there."

"Um, except for a witness who saw a dead man commit a murder!" yelled Sam, standing up from his perch on Bobby's desk.

"What witness? Digger Wells?"

"Yeah! So?" asked Dean.

"So he's the damn town drunk," replied Bobby.

"Well, what about all of the lightning storms? Those look like omens," said Alex.

"Well, it is storm season, sweetheart. Look, I thought that this was all something too."

"So who killed the guy?" asked Sam, looking down at Bobby.

"Take your pick, Sammy. This Benny Sutton guy was one Grade A son of a bitch. There's a list of the living a mile long who wouldn't mind killing him themselves."

"So you're telling us… absolutely nothing," stated Dean.

Bobby took in a deep breath and shrugged his shoulders.

"Sorry. It just looks like you wasted a tank of gas on this one," answered Bobby.

"Great," mumbled Dean, turning away from Bobby and facing the window instead.

Later that night, as Dean drove them out of town, they passed the local cemetery. Dean stopped a few blocks away from it, putting the Impala into park.

"Isn't that the cemetery back there?" asked Dean.

Alex shook her head vehemently.

"No, Dean, absolutely not. Bobby said that he already checked it out and that there was nothing there."

"So, what, Bobby can't ever be wrong? C'mon, let's all just take a peek and then we'll hit the road," said Dean.

He looked between his twin siblings, who both sighed.

A few minutes later, Alex paced in between her brothers as they walked into St. Anthony's Cemetery. Each one of them held a flashlight in their left hands, Sam and Dean each holding a medium-sized shovel in their right hands as well. They were searching for Clay Thompson's grave.

"Hey," whispered Sam, shining his flashlight onto the grave of Clay Thompson.

Dean and Alex lowered their lights onto the soil in front of the marble tombstone.

"Does that ground look fresh to either one of you two?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, actually, it does," remarked Sam.

Alex sighed as Sam and Dean stowed away their flashlights and stuffed them into their jacket pockets. They began slowly digging up the grave site.

About twenty minutes later, Sam was standing next to the casket of Clay Thompson in the six foot hole that he and Dean had just dug up together while Alex held the flashlight and looked onto their progress. Sam cleared away the last small pile of soil and opened up the lid of the casket, revealing an empty casket. Sam let out an exhale of a deep breath and then turned to look at his two siblings.

"What in the hell is going on here?" asked Sam.

Alex shook her head and bit her lip nervously, holding her arms to herself to try and get some warmth back into her body. Dean shook his head as well.

"I have no clue, but something certainly smells around here. C'mon, let's keep checking this out," said Dean.

He helped Sam climb up out of the grave. They quickly piled all of the soil back onto the grave site and headed back into the small town.

Sam led the way into a big white house right on the edge of town. It was only located a few miles away from the cemetery and it was Clay Thompson's old place. Alex followed Sam down a long, narrow hallway while Dean headed for the office area. As he inspected the wood desk in the corner, a man came running towards him, brandishing an iron fireplace poker. Dean quickly knocked the weapon out of the man's hand and then the man fell to the floor, curling up into the fetal position as Dean held his gun towards him. Sam and Alex came rushing into the room, shining their flashlights onto the man's still form.

"There's plenty of money in the safe, just please don't shoot me," asked the man.

"We don't want your money."

The man looked up at them, his eyes squinting up into Alex's flashlight which was currently trained upon his face.

"Well, then what do you want? Take anything, please."

"You're Clay Thompson, right?" asked Sam.

The man looked up, his face deathly white and pale. He slowly stood up to his full height, Dean still holding his gun towards Clay.

"Who are you three?" asked Clay Thompson.

"Um…" Sam cleared his throat. "FBI."

"FBI? Oh, my God, this is about Benny, isn't it?"

"What about Benny?" asked Alex.

"He killed me! He shot me in the back. And I'm supposed to let him get away with all of that?"

"Hold up. Are you confessing right now?" asked Dean, lowering his gun slightly.

"Please. I'll go with you, just please don't wake my children."

"You'll go with us… where?" asked Alex, looking utterly confused now.

"To jail!"

"So let me get all of this straight. You're Clay Thompson and you died five years ago," stated Dean.

"Yes!" said Clay, throwing up his hands in frustration.

"And then three days ago, you climbed out of your grave and killed Benny Sutton," finished Sam.

"Yep," said Clay, popping the p on the last syllable of his "yep" response to Sam's statement.

"So you are, in fact, a dead man," said Alex.

"Yes, I don't know what the hell I am," said Clay, breathing heavily.

"Clay?" called out a feminine voice from the hallway.

A blonde woman came into view them, looking extremely wary.

"I called 911," she said.

"Honey, it's alright. These three are the FBI. They're here about Benny," said Clay.

Dean looked at Clay.

"Why don't you come with us, Mr. Thompson, I think that would really be best," explained Dean.

Clay nodded vigorously and grabbed his coat on the way out of the front door of his own house. Clay walked in front of the three siblings as they headed for the Impala. Dean grabbed his favorite pistol from out of his jacket pocket and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Dean," whispered Alex, raising her eyebrows.

"What? He's a monster, Alex," replied Dean.

"He's a freaking soccer dad," said Sam.

"Oh, really, well what do you two want to do with him then, huh?"

Sam and Alex sighed and just as they looked forward, a bright light was thrust into their eyes. Alex squinted into the light and then let out a colorful curse as she saw that it was just the sheriff, Jodie Mills.

"Freeze, you three! Drop your weapons," yelled Jodie, pointing her own handgun at the three siblings.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said Dean, lowering his gun to the cold cement ground as his siblings also did the same thing.

"Alright, hey. Remember the guy who you said was dead and couldn't possibly commit murder? There he is," said Dean, pointing towards Clay, who was looking between the three siblings and the sheriff very curiously.

"And?" asked Jodie, who had finally lowered her gun at this point.

"And?" repeated Dean, his triumphant smirk fading quickly then.

"And you're welcome. For catching the undead killer zombie," said Alex, scoffing.

"Well, whatever he is or isn't, that doesn't give you the right to shoot him right here in the middle of the street," explained Jodie.

She pulled out a set of silver police handcuffs and began cuffing Dean's hand behind his back.

"You're free to go, Mr. Thompson," said Jodie, speaking over Dean's shoulders as she continued cuffing him.

"Free to go?" yelled Dean, disbelief coloring his tone.

"I can't believe that you were actually going to kill me," said Clay, looking at Dean almost angrily and a little but hurt as well.

"Dude, you're a zombie!" yelled Alex, throwing up her hands with frustration.

Clay just scoffed and headed back towards his front door, which was only a few feet away anyway. Jodie loaded Dean into the car first and then looked to Sam and Alex expectantly. They climbed inside the back of her patrol car, Alex sliding into the backseat first and sitting in the middle of her brothers.

Dean and Alex sat on the cold metal bench in their holding cell while Sam paced the hard concrete floor relentlessly.

"So, do you guys think that the sheriff's in on the take?" asked Dean.

Sam scoffed.

"And what, the zombies are paying her off?"

Alex looked out of the cell's bars just as an officer was leading another prisoner into the front room. She sat up straighter as she saw Bobby in the front room, talking to someone who she couldn't see from her vantage point, but who she assumed was Jodie, the sheriff.

"Hey, guys, look," she called out.

Dean and Sam both looked over as well, also seeing Bobby.

"So, what, now they're friends?" asked Dean.

Bobby looked straight at them and shook his head.

"Bobby, I thought that the sheriff hated you," stated Sam, pushing Bobby out of the police department.

"She did up until about five days ago," said Bobby, looking down at the floor.

"What happened five days ago, Bobby?" asked Alex, biting her lip nervously.

"Well, the dead started rising up all over this damn town," answered Bobby.

Alex exchanged looks with both of her brothers.

"So you knew about all of this?" asked Dean, incredulous.

Bobby nodded.

"Yep."

"I think what Dean meant to say is that you lied to us," said Sam, letting out a large sigh of extreme disappointment at his pseudo father figure.

Bobby suddenly grabbed onto his wheels, stopping Sam from pushing him any further along the hallway. He wheeled around to face the three siblings. He also took in a deep breath for encouragement before he fully began speaking to the three of them.

"Look, I told you three that there was nothing here for you all to worry about. And there isn't anything here. Not for you three, at least."

Dean leaned in a little bit closer, lowering his voice.

"But there are zombies here."

"There are zombies and then there are zombies."

Bobby raised his eyebrows.

Dean, Alex, and Sam all tilted their heads to the side with confusion.

"Come with me then."

Bobby wheeled himself around and pushed himself faster towards the front doors of the police station. Sam shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, following after Bobby and his siblings.

Bobby threw his hat onto the bookshelf in his front hallway as he and the Winchester siblings entered into his house. Alex closed her eyes for a split second before speaking.

"Bobby. It's your wife, isn't it? She's back from the dead again, like in your dream on that dream root case a while back, isn't she?" whispered Alex.

Bobby looked up at her from his wheelchair sadly.

"Will someone please tell me what the hell is goin-" began Dean, but then he stopped as he spotted the woman in the bright yellow dress in Bobby's kitchen.

"Well, hello there."

Her smile faltered a bit as she looked up and saw the three Winchester siblings.

"I didn't realize that you were bringing us some company," she said.

Bobby wheeled himself over to the head of the dining room table, which was now set up in the room that was once his study.

"It's 4:00 AM, babe. You didn't have to cook for us, for me," smiled Bobby.

"Oh, please. I'll get us all some more plates."

She quickly strode back into Bobby's kitchen and Bobby looked up at the three siblings expectantly.

"And who is that?" asked Dean, his voice somewhat of a whisper.

"Karen. My wife," answered Bobby, his voice a gruff sort of whisper.

"Your new wife?" asked Dean.

"No. My dead wife," answered Bobby.

Alex sighed sadly as she looked down at her father figure.

Dean made noises of pleasure as he scarfed down another piece of Karen's pie.

"Mmm. This is absolutely incredible, Mrs. Singer," he called out to her.

"Thank you, Dean," replied Mrs. Singer, giving him a warm smile.

Sam cleared his throat then and gave Dean a strange, but subtle look.

"What? It really is," replied Dean.

Alex drank another drink from her cup of black coffee while Sam dug into his own slice of apple pie. Karen smiled at Bobby as she placed a slice of pie down in front of him.

"Wow, this all looks great, Karen, thanks," said Bobby.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently and warmly.

"Could you, um, please give us a minute alone?" asked Bobby.

Karen lovingly squeezed her husband's shoulder one last time and then she left to start washing some dinner plates in the smaller kitchen. The three siblings each gave her a reassuring smile as she left them all in the dining area. She pulled closed the sliding black doors that separated the kitchen from the dining room area, only leaving a miniscule amount of space in between the two doors. Once she had her back turned to all of them, their smiles quickly faded. Sam quickly shoved away his slice of pie, as did Dean. They all rounded on Bobby.

"Are you crazy, what the hell?" asked Dean.

"Dean, I can explain," began Bobby.

"Explain what, lying to all of us? Or the American Girl zombie making cupcakes in your damn kitchen?"

"First of all, that's my wife, so watch it, son," threatened Bobby, his voice becoming lower in pitch as he threatened Dean.

Dean glared over at him, his face very serious. Alex looked sad for Bobby from her place beside Sam.

"Bobby, whatever that thing is in there… it is not your wife," said Sam, pointing towards the kitchen, where Karen, Bobby's zombie wife, could be heard humming a cheery tune.

"And how do you know that?" asked Bobby, glaring over at Sam now.

"Are you serious?" asked Sam.

"Yes! Do you three think I'm a damn idiot? My dead wife shows up on my front doorstep and none of you think that I'm not gonna test her every way I learned?"

The three siblings sat back in their dining room chair, studying Bobby's face.

"So what is it then? Zombies?" asked Alex.

Bobby just shook his head.

"Hell if I can even tell. She's got absolutely no scars, no wounds. No reactions to salt, silver, holy water."

"Bobby, she crawled out of her grave," said Dean.

"No, she didn't. I cremated here," said Bobby.

The three siblings looked absolutely stunned at Bobby's news.

"But somehow, someway she's back."

"But that's impossible," whispered Alex.

"Tell me about it!" said Bobby.

"Did you bury her ashes?" asked Sam.

Bobby nodded profusely.

"Where?" asked Dean.

"In the cemetery. That's where they all rose from."

"Bobby. How many are there?" asked Alex, biting her lower lip.

"Fifteen or twenty. I made a list of all of 'em."

Bobby pulled out a folded up piece of paper from the front pocket of his shirt. Sam held out his hand first so Bobby placed the paper in Sam's open palm and Sam opened the note, looking over it. Bobby began counting them off on his right hand's fingers.

"There's Karen, Clay… Sheriff Mills."

All three siblings looked over at him.

"Her… her little boy came back," explained Bobby.

Sam threw his hands up with frustration.

"And there were absolutely no signs? No omens?"

Bobby looked down at the bright yellow tablecloth.

"Well, there were those lightning storms…"

Alex shook her head while Dean slammed his fist down on the table.

"That's what we said, Bobby! What else?" yelled Dean.

Bobby wheeled himself over to his desk and pulled out a Holy Bible from underneath a bunch of other papers. He flipped it open to a bookmarked page, which was the beginning of the Book of Revelations. He began to read out loud to the three siblings.

"'And through the fire stood before me a pale horse. And he that sat atop him carried a sith. And I saw since he had risen, they too shall rise. And from him and through him.'"

Alex sighed deeply as she realized what they were dealing with. Sam and Dean looked solemn.

"So, what, Death is behind all of this?" asked Dean.

Bobby placed the Bible back onto his wooden desk.

"Death Death? Like the Grim Reaper, death?" asked Sam.

Bobby nodded sadly and wheeled himself back over to the head of the table.

"Yeah."

Dean rubbed a hand over his forehead.

"Awesome. Another freaking horseman. It must be Thursday," remarked Dean.

Sam stood up and began pacing along the dining room floor.

"Bobby, why would Death raise fifteen people from the dead in a little tiny Podunk town like Sioux Falls?" he asked him.

Sam grabbed the Bible and leaned against Bobby's only desk, re-reading the passage that Bobby had just read out loud to the three of them.

"I don't know."

"You know, if Death is behind this, then whatever these things are, it's not good," said Dean.

Bobby stared over at him.

"Bobby, you know what we have to do here."

"She doesn't remember anything, you know."

"Oh, Bobby," sighed Alex, reaching out and touching his hand gently.

"What do you mean?" asked Dean.

"Her possessed, me killing her… her coming back."

"Bobby," sighed Dean, leaning forward.

Bobby closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Don't 'Bobby' me. Just… just listen, alright?" whispered Bobby.

He stopped talking and then the four of them listened intently as Karen hummed another song. Bobby smiled weakly, but happily.

"She hums when she cooks. She always used to hum when she was cooking. She's tone-deaf as all hell, but… I never thought I would hear it again," whispered Bobby.

Alex removed her hand from his and stood up, her smile forced as she looked over at her brothers.

"I'll be right back," she promised, taking off into the hallway.

They all heard as the bathroom door slammed shut and then Bobby looked to Sam.

"Just read Revelations. The dead rise during the apocalypse, but there's nothing in there that says that's bad. Hell, maybe it's the one good thing that comes out of this whole bloody mess."

"And what would you do if you were us?" asked Dean.

Bobby's face turned to one of sadness and he glanced over at Sam. He hesitated for a little while before finally answering, not looking at either one of the brothers.

"I know what I would do. And I know what you three think that you've got to do. But, I'm begging you, please… please leave her be," whispered Bobby, looking from Sam to Dean and back again as he spoke.

Alex sat on the edge of the bathtub in Bobby's bathroom, her phone clutched in her hand. She stared at the display, which read 5:34 AM. She knew it was early, but she dialed Kellan's number anyway, holding the phone up to her ear as it rang.

"Hi, baby," she heard as Kellan picked up the phone.

Alex's eyes immediately filled up with tears as she heard his voice.

"Alex. What's wrong?" he asked her.

Alex smiled as Kellan immediately knew that something was wrong without her even speaking.

"Nothing, Kellan, absolutely nothing. I just needed to hear your voice, that's all. I'm sorry for calling so damn early."

"I'll answer anytime you call, hon. Are you sure you're alright though?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I just needed to call and tell you that I love you. And that I miss you terribly. Where are you today? How's the road trip?"

"Well, I'm currently in Farley, Missouri. It's a little tiny town, but I'm hoping to get to Arkansas later today. And I miss you too, so much."

Alex sniffed and wiped away her tears that had fallen down her face. She stood up then, knowing that it would soon be time to leave Bobby's house.

"I better get going. We're working on a case right now. Hurry up and get back to me, Kellan."

Kellan chuckled.

"I'll work as hard as I can, babe. I'll talk to you later, alright? I love you so much, Alex Winchester."

"I love you too, Kellan. Bye."

Alex hung up her call and headed out towards the front door.

"So what do you think?" asked Sam, pouring a whole lot of sugar into his coffee cup as he sat across from Alex at the local diner about an hour later.

"There's nothing to think about," answered Dean, who was sitting next to Sam, eating a breakfast sandwich.

"So what do you wanna do, waltz in there and blow her skull off directly in front of Bobby? Oh, that will go over real nicely there, bro," scoffed Alex.

"If she decides that Bobby's face looks good enough to eat, I would like to be there," said Dean.

Sam and Alex both sighed, Sam finally setting down the now half-full sugar container. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a group of one dollar bills.

"Fine. Alex and I will do some digging and see what else we can come up with," said Sam.

Sam flung a few of the dollar bills from his pocket onto the countertop and then he grabbed Alex's hand, helping her down from her stool. She leaned over, kissed Dean's scruffy cheek, and followed Sam out of the local diner.

As Dean watched over Bobby's house with Bobby and Karen inside of it, Sam and Alex began looking through the list of dead people who had risen from their graves that Bobby had given them. They started with the sheriff's house. Alex sighed as she and Sam peeked in through the window, spotting the sheriff and her husband reading a book with their little boy on their couch. Alex let out a wistful sigh and Sam squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

"Come on. Let's try the next place," said Alex.

Sam nodded and she grabbed his hand, leading him forward towards the sidewalk.

After about twenty more minutes of walking throughout town, Sam and Alex reached the next house. The front gate was open, but the weeds were tremendously overgrown. They walked up to the dilapidated front porch and Sam knocked on the front door. There was no answer, so Sam knocked once again.

"Mrs. Jones?" he called out.

As Sam raised his hand to knock once again on the blue front door, Alex grabbed his tan jacket sleeve.

"Sammy, look," she whispered.

She pointed to the threshold of the front door, where droplets of blood were splattered. Sam quickly glanced around them, saw that no one was around, and pulled the front door open quickly. He stepped inside first, followed by Alex, who shut the door behind her.

"Ezra Jones?" called out Sam once again.

No voice responded, but both Alex and Sam whipped their heads around as a lough series of coughs sounded from the front room. Sam slowly led the way into the room, Alex looking disgusted at all of the trash and random things strewn about the front room. It looked like a hoarder lived there. As both siblings finally stepped over the threshold into the front room from the front hallway, they saw an old woman lying on a four-poster bed.

"Um, Ezra Jones?" asked Sam.

The woman coughed a few more times, but motioned for Sam and Alex to move closer to her. Alex glanced over the old woman, who had white hair and scabs all over her hands and face. She was also very pale, but she had just risen from the dead a few nights before. Her eyes were all glazed over, but she still beckoned the two of them forward. Sam took a few more small steps forward.

"What is it?" he asked her.

She continued coughing and motioning them both forward.

"Don't you think that you could maybe tell both of us from just about right here?" asked Alex.

Instead of speaking, Ezra Jones motioned them forward once again.

"Yeah, I'm so going to regret this later," whispered Sam.

He began moving forward, but Alex grabbed the back of his tan jacket.

"Sam, are you fucking crazy? She's probably going to eat your brains!"

"Alex, just stay back here and be ready for anything, alright?"

Alex rolled her eyes, but let go of the back of Sam's jacket so that he could inch forward towards the woman. He took a deep breath and stepped forward until he reached her bedside. He then leaned forward towards the zombie woman, Alex wincing as he did so. She still beckoned him towards her until Sam's ear was directly by her dirty mouth. She began to mumble and then she pounced, throwing Sam halfway across the room. Sam landed on his back, spotting a decaying man's body directly next to him on the floor. Ezra Jones threw herself on top of Sam's chest, her spit landing on his cheek. Sam grimaced, but then Ezra Jones fell off of him suddenly. Sam looked over and saw Alex holding her silver gun, Ezra Jones' brains and blood now splattered all over the ceiling from the bullet hole Alex had placed in her forehead. Sam used his jacket's sleeve to wipe the spittle off of his cheek while Alex grimaced.

"Nice shot," remarked Sam.

"Thanks. I learned from the best."

Alex stuck her gun back in the waistband of her low-rise Levi jeans. She then extended her hand for Sam to grab, helping him stand up straight. They headed out the front door and straight for Bobby's house.

"Keep your damn voices down, Karen's upstairs," said Bobby, wheeling himself into his dining room/study.

"Oh, I'm so sorry that we're a little tense right now, but who's old lady Jones?" asked Dean.

The three siblings stood in front of Bobby, Dean's arms crossed over his chest.

"She was the first one up," answered Bobby.

"Or the first one to go bad," said Sam, crossing his arms across his chest and raising his eyebrows.

Bobby shook his head, scoffed, and rolled his eyes.

"Nah, well, she was always a nutty broad."

"Nutty how? Nutty like she ate her husband's stomach, is that what you meant by nutty?" yelled Dean, glaring at Bobby now.

"No," answered Bobby.

"Look, Bobby, I feel for you, I really do. But you have got to acknowledge that you aren't exactly seeing things straight anymore."

Bobby began wheeling himself out of the room.

"Bobby, whether you would like to admit it or not, these things are turning and we have to stop them. All of them!" yelled Sam.

Alex bit her lip nervously as she watched the exchange between her brothers and Bobby. She leaned her hip against the dining room table. When Sam was finished yelling, Bobby wheeled himself around to face them and he suddenly pulled out a silver pistol from off of his hip. He pointed it straight at them. Alex stood up straight, looking shocked, her eyes wide and her eyebrows raised.

"Time to go," threatened Bobby.

"What?" asked Dean, looking shell-shocked.

"You heard me. Get off of my property right now."

"Or what? You'll shoot all of us?" asked Sam, his tone full of disbelief.

"If Karen turns, I will handle it. My way."

"This is dangerous," said Dean.

Bobby cocked the gun then.

"I'm not telling you three twice."

Dean and Sam stared at Bobby until Alex stepped forward, grabbing Sam's arm and reaching out for Dean.

"Come on, guys," she whispered, urging them all forward.

Sam led the way with Dean right behind him. Alex brought up the rear, turning to look at Bobby with sadness before walking out the front door.

"Alex…" began Bobby, cursing under his breath as he realized what he had done.

"Don't, Bobby. I get it, I truly understand. I just never thought that I would ever have to lose you as well as my real parents."

She closed the doors to the kitchen behind her and then followed her brothers out the front door.

"He's crazy," said Dean, turning off the Impala when they had arrived at their destination.

Alex smiled sadly.

"It's his wife, Dean."

"So he goes all Full Metal Jacket on us? We're his family, Alex."

Alex shrank back into the backseat while Sam sighed.

"Look, Dean, bigger fish to fry, alright? I mean, we've got an awful lot of zombies about to turn this town into a giant chew toy!" yelled Sam.

"Yeah, and he's all alone in his house making pie with one of them!" yelled Dean.

"Alright, so?" asked Sam.

"So…"

Sam's eyebrows rose.

"I'm gonna have to go back there and kill her," explained Dean.

Alex and Sam both groaned.

"That's the only thing I can think of!" said Dean.

"If he sees you or any one of us, you're a dead man," explained Sam.

Dean threw up his hands.

"Well, then, I guess I won't let him see me, now, will I?"

"Okay. Sam and I will head to town and… rescue everyone, that should be extremely simple," offered Alex.

"Yeah, sounds like it," chuckled Dean.

"We're gonna need some help," said Alex.

"What about the sheriff?" asked Dean.

"Um, yeah, last time we checked, the sheriff was pretty much pro-zombie," answered Sam.

Alex nodded profusely.

"Well then, I guess you two will just have to convince her, now, won't you?" offered Dean.

"How?" asked Alex.

Dean just shrugged.

"I have no clue! You two will just have to figure out a way to convince her," said Dean.

Alex and Sam both cursed as they watched through the sheriff's living room window. They jumped out of the Impala as the little boy turned into a full-on zombie, attacking his father. They rushed into the sheriff's house, Alex grabbing the sheriff's arm just as her son began to turn on her.

"Let's go!" yelled Sam.

He ran out the front door after Alex and the sheriff.

"But what about my husband?" she yelled.

"Just leave him, he's dead!" yelled Sam.

"That was not my son!" cried Sheriff Jodie Mills.

Alex grabbed her and forced her to face her.

"You're absolutely right, it wasn't your son. Now, listen. Sheriff, your town is in danger! Your people are in danger and we need to help all of them right now. Can you do that for us? Please? Can you focus for me? Sheriff? Sheriff?" asked Alex.

The sheriff ran her hands through her dark brown hair, her eyes welling up with tears. But they were gone as suddenly as they had appeared.

"How do we put them all down?" she asked Sam and Alex.

"Head shot," answered Sam, still slightly breathing heavily from running out of the sheriff's house quickly.

"We're gonna need weapons," she cried out, her voice cracking slightly as her eyes welled up with tears once again.

"We can start by rounding up everyone who we can find. Where is there a safe place where we can take people?" asked Alex.

"Jail. The jail," answered Jodie, nodding.

She looked back towards her front door then. Alex and Sam looked back as well. Sam looked over at his sister a second later, who looked over at him, nodding. Sam pulled out his gun.

"Just give me a minute," whispered Sam.

Alex nodded and Sam cocked his gun. Jodie reached out, grabbing his arm suddenly. Alex reached over and removed the sheriff's hand from Sam's arm, holding it in her own hands. Alex nodded and Sam sadly headed back toward the sheriff's house. Sam headed inside the still wide-open front door of the house. About a minute later, Alex and the sheriff heard the unmistakable sound of one gunshot. Alex never flinched, but Jodie flinched, closing her eyes and finally letting her tears fall from her eyes.

Dean was on Bobby's front porch, picking the lock to his front door just as a single loud gunshot rang out from inside Bobby's house.

"Bobby!" yelled Dean.

Wielding his shotgun, he quickly finished picking the front door's lock, throwing open the door and rushing inside. He stopped in the hallway, right in the doorway of the dining room/study. He looked over at Bobby sadly, who had tears in his eyes. Bobby was still holding Karen's hand, blood dripping onto the hardwood floor from her wound to the head.

Alex sat on a desk in the jail, Sam and the sheriff handing out shotguns to the regular townspeople that they had gathered together.

"Alright, now, if I hand you a gun, you shoot any dead person. I don't care if it's your friend, your neighbor, or your wife, you shoot for their head. That's the only way that we'll survive," explained Sam, handing off guns to the townsfolk.

"Um, would you mind telling us who you are?" asked one man, chuckling uncomfortably as he looked over at Sam.

"I'm a friend of Bobby Singer's."

"The town drunk," stated the same man.

Sam and Alex both looked confused then.

"No, I thought… he was the town drunk," said Sam, nodding his head towards Digger Wells, the very first man that they had spoken to about the dead rising from their graves.

"Who told you that?" asked the same man.

"Bobby Singer," answered Sam.

The townsfolk laughed uncomfortably. Sam cleared his throat and threw Alex a shotgun as well. She caught it effortlessly.

"Who's the hot chick?" asked one young man in the very back, who was eyeing Alex appreciatively.

"That's my little sister. Well, twin sister, but that's beside the point. Stay away from her, kid," warned Sam.

The kid shrank back and Alex smirked.

"Stay sharp out there," called out Sam.

"I'll watch the front door. Alex, you take the back door," said Sam, nodding to Alex and talking to the sheriff.

Alex nodded and headed for the back door of the jail.

After about thirty minutes, Alex ran towards the front of the jail, her shotgun in hand. Sam met her in the middle of the lobby.

"Sammy, the zombies aren't coming here. They must be at Bobby's," said Alex.

"I know, I know. Let's grab the sheriff and get there as fast as possible," said Sam.

Alex nodded and ran over to the sheriff, grabbing her by the arm. The sheriff yelled out instructions to the townspeople and then left the jail with Sam and Alex.

As Sam, Alex, and the sheriff rushed into Bobby's house, they saw about seven or eight zombies scrambling for Dean and Bobby, who were huddled together in a tiny storage closet. All three of them began taking aim, Dean ducking as bullets began flying. Once the commotion ended, Dean and Bobby looked out from the storage closet, taking in all of the dead bodies and the blood and brains spattered everywhere along Bobby's wall.

"You two alright?" asked Alex, lowering her shotgun.

Dean and Bobby looked over at her.

The next morning, Sam and Alex stood by the burning bodies as the sheriff and Dean walked towards them.

"Well, if there's any more zombies out there, we sure as hell can't find any of them," said Dean.

Alex and Sam turned their backs on the burning flames and turned to face the sheriff and Dean.

"How are the townspeople?" asked Alex, squinting into the sunlight.

"Pretty freaked out. Hell, traumatized probably. A few of them are even calling the papers. As far as I can tell, no one's believed them quite yet," answered the sheriff.

"Would you? Believe them?" asked Sam.

She shook her head sadly and slowly.

"How are you holding up?" asked Alex, biting her lip.

She didn't answer right away, but just looked between the three siblings. Alex nodded sadly. Dean looked towards the flames.

"Is that everyone?" he asked Sam and Alex.

"All but one," answered Alex.

The three siblings walked up behind Bobby, who was sitting in his auto junkyard, watching his wife's dead body burn.

"So. I'm thinking maybe I should apologize for losing my head back there," said Bobby, never tearing his eyes away from the burning flames.

"Bobby… you don't owe us anything," said Sam.

"And I know squat about love, but… at least you got to spend five days with her, right?" asked Dean.

"Right. Which makes things about a thousand times worse. She was the love of my life. How many times am I going to have to kill her?"

Alex took in a deep breath.

"Are you gonna be alright, Bobby?" she asked her only father figure.

Bobby never answered, so Alex exchanged a sad glance with both of her brothers quickly.

"You three should know. Karen told me why Death was here."

"What do you mean?" asked Sam.

"I know why he took a stroll through the cemetery in the sticks of South Dakota."

Bobby took in a large, deep breath before continuing on.

"He came for me."

"What do you mean, you?" asked Dean, looking down at Bobby once again, his face showing confusion.

"Death came for me. He brought Karen back to send me a message."

"You? Why you?" asked Alex, also sounding confused.

"Because I've been helping you three! I'm one of the many reasons why you're still saying no to Lucifer, Sam," explained Bobby.

"So this was like a hit on your life? Is that why all the zombies came to your house, to try and kill you?" asked Dean.

"I don't know, I'm not sure. I don't know if they wanted to take my life or… my spirit. Either way, they sure as hell wanted me out of the way," explained Bobby once again.

"But you're going to be alright," said Alex, nodding her head firmly.

"Right, Bobby?" asked Sam.

Bobby slowly looked over and up to look into Sam's face on his right side. The look he gave Sam was one of acceptance, almost a look of defeat. He turned back to look at the raging flames of the fire after a few more seconds. The Winchester siblings stood behind him, looking on at the raging fire stoically.

A few days later, Sam and Dean were still asleep in their newest motel room. Alex was at the diner across the street from the motel, ordering a to-go order of breakfast for her and her brothers. Alex smiled at the waitress as she handed Alex a steaming hot cup of coffee as she waited for her order to be filled.

As Dean awoke from his slumber, he reached a hand under his pillow, making sure his gun was still underneath it. When his palm didn't come into contact with cold metal, Dean's eyes popped open suddenly with alarm.

"Looking for this?"

Dean looked over his shoulder and saw a man in a black ski mask standing at the foot of his bed. He had a shotgun trained onto Dean's back. Dean rolled himself over in his bed to face the man, who emptied Dean's gun of bullets. Dean looked over at Sam, who was sitting up in his bed. A second man had a gun trained on Sam.

"Mornin'," remarked Dean, yawning widely as he struggled to sit up straight.

"Shut up. Put your hands where I can see them," ordered the man at the foot of Dean's bed.

As Dean held his hands up, he cocked his head to the side with confusion and recognition.

"Wait a second. Is that you, Roy?"

The man didn't answer and Dean smirked.

"It is, isn't it. Which makes you Walt."

Dean's gaze turned to the man at the foot of Sam's bed.

"Hiya, Walt."

The two men in black ski masks glanced at one another. One of them sighed after a brief, but silent, minute.

"It don't matter."

The one Dean had called Walt removed his black mask first, the one named Roy removing his as well.

"Well, is it just me or do you two seem a tad bit upset?" asked Dean, shrugging his shoulders.

"You think you could just walk away after switching the flip on the apocalypse, Sam?" asked the one named Walt, shaking his head as he glared at Sam.

"Who told you that?" whispered Sam, his eyebrows raised.

"We ain't the only hunters after you Winchesters."

Walt cocked his gun, causing both Sam and Dean to jump slightly at the unexpected and sound.

"Hear me out, I can explain, alright?" pleaded Sam.

Walt continued to glare at Sam.

"Please," begged Sam.

The one man named Roy gave Walt a sidelong glare. Walt shot Sam twice, Sam falling back onto his bedspread, dead. Dean turned towards his little brother, his eyes wide with alarm.

"Stand the hell down!" yelled Roy, keeping his gun aimed at Dean.

Dean breathed heavily as he looked at Sam's dead body.

"Shoot him," urged Walt.

Roy gave him an uncertain look.

"Killing Sam was right, but Dean-"

"He made us and we just snuffed his little brother, you dumbass. Would you like to spend the rest of your life knowing that Dean Winchester is on your ass because I sure as hell don't. Shoot him and then we track down the girl," ground out Walt.

"Don't go anywhere near Alex, do you hear me? Don't you ever touch her!" snarled Dean.

He turned back to face Roy, a sinister smirk playing on his lips.

"But go ahead and shoot me, Roy. And while Alex tracks you two assholes down, just know that when I come back, I'm going to be pissed," threatened Dean.

As he stared into Roy's eyes, Roy hesitated. Walt sighed from the end of Sam's bed.

"Come on already."

He cocked his gun and shot Dean once straight in the chest, the shot ringing out even after the two men left the room.

Alex held the large bag of carryout diner food in her left hand, a steaming to-go cup of coffee in her right hand. She looked both ways before crossing the nearly deserted street, stepping onto the asphalt that made up the motel's parking lot. As she headed towards the room she shared with her brothers, she stopped short. The door to their room was busted open, wood splinters littering the sidewalk. She glanced quickly around, but there wasn't a soul in sight. Alex took in a deep breath of cold morning air and slowly walked toward the motel room, fearing the worst. Once she reached the door, she set down the carryout bag and her coffee cup. She gently pushed open the motel room door and immediately knew that she was too late. As she walked inside, she made sure no one was still waiting to attack her. Once she had cleared the bathroom, she turned back to face the beds in the room, where the dead bodies of Sam and Dean were still lying. Alex's eyes filled with tears as she fell to her knees, crying into the palms of her hands.

Dean gasped as he awoke from the sound of thunder rumbling. He let out a breath, which he could see since it was so cold. He opened the driver's side door of the Impala and slowly climbed out of his beloved car, which was parked in the middle of a deserted road. The Impala was straddling the dotted yellow line that was painted onto the road. Dean looked forward into the darkness, but whirled around as he heard the Impala's trunk slam closed. The young, high school version of Sam was standing before him, holding a blue crate full of what looked like fireworks. Beside him was the high school version of Alex, smiling over at Dean.

"Sammy? Alex?" asked Dean.

"Come on, let's go!" yelled Sam.

He and Alex both took off to the left of the Impala and Dean shook his head as he began following after the younger version of his younger siblings.

"This is a very weird dream," he remarked to himself.

A few feet into the woods was where Sam set down the blue crate full of small fireworks that he had been holding in his arms. Alex stood beside him as Sam turned to look at Dean as he approached him.

"You got your lighter?" asked Sam, looking back over his jacket clad shoulder to Dean.

Dean hesitantly reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver lighter. He grinned as he looked down at it in his palm.

"Whoa, I haven't seen this lighter in years!"

"Fire 'em up," instructed Sam, standing next to Dean now.

Dean lit the young version of Sam's firework up first, Sam holding it out in the air. Dean took the other Roman candle from Sam's free hand and lit it himself, holding his up in the air as well. He looked over at Alex, who wasn't holding a firework. Together the three of them watched as both of the Roman candles began emitting out small fireworks, lighting up the forest sky in front of them. Dean grinned as he watched the fireworks explode in the air.

"I remember this! This was Fourth of July 2003."

As Dean's Roman candle began to flare out, he looked over at the teenage version of Sam, who was looking over at him.

"Dad would've never let us do anything like this. Thanks, Dean. This is wonderful," said Sam.

He hugged Dean around the middle, his head reaching Dean's chest. Dean hugged Sam back hesitantly for a few seconds and then Sam released him. Dean looked over at Alex, who hugged him around the middle as well. Once she released him, Sam looked over at Dean, who nodded slightly. Sam smirked and ran over to the still full crate of fireworks. He used Dean's lighter to set all of them on fire all at once. Sam quickly ran away from the crate and back over to Dean's side.

"Fire in the hole!" yelled Sam.

He stood by Dean's side as they watched the rest of all of the fireworks exploding into multicolor high up in the air. Alex giggled as she watched the fireworks explode into the air, Sam's grin rivaling hers. Dean grinned as well as he watched the two of them run over and twirl around together underneath the many fireworks that were still exploding high up in the air. Dean looked back up at the fireworks for another split second, but flinched as he recalled the shots that Walt had taken to him and Sam. When Dean opened his eyes, the forest area in front of him was now completely empty, no sign of Sam, Alex, or fireworks anywhere to be found.

"Alex? Sam?"

When there was no response from anywhere in the forest, Dean trekked back to the Impala. He leaned his arms on the top of the car, looking for Alex and Sam. The radio crackled to life and a voice called out from it, the static making it hard for Dean to hear exactly what the radio was saying.

"Dean!"

Dean bent down, leaning his head into the open driver's side window of the Impala.

"Cas?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, it's me," answered Castiel, his voice coming from the radio in Dean's beloved car.

Dean's eyebrows pulled together in the middle of his forehead, but he opened his door and climbed inside, sitting in the driver's seat.

"You've got to stop poking around in my dreams. I need some me time," said Dean, smirking slightly.

"Listen to me very carefully, Dean. This isn't a dream."

"Then what is this?"

"Deep down you already know the answer to that, Dean."

Dean looked off into the darkness as he recalled the shots that Walt had taken on him and Sam earlier that day. He watched as Sam's body flew back onto his bed from the force of the shotgun blast. He then watched as he himself was shot and killed, falling backwards onto his own bed.

"I'm dead," said Dean, coming back to the present inside his Impala.

"My condolences," said Castiel.

"Where am I?"

"Heaven."

"Heaven? How the hell did I get into Heaven?"

"Please, just listen. This spell, this… connection, it's very difficult to maintain."

"Wait a minute, if I'm in Heaven… Then where's Sammy? And what about Alex, is she alright?"

"Alex is still alive and well. But what do you see, Dean?"

Dean looked up out his front windshield.

"What do you mean, 'what do I see?'"

"Some people often see a river or a tunnel. What do you see?"

"Nothing, but I'm in my car. I'm on a road," answered Dean.

"Alright, a road. For you it's a road. Now follow it, Dean. You will find Sam if you just follow the road."

The radio went silent after Castiel's final statement. Dean looked at it for another split second and then he took a deep breath and started up the Impala. He drove down the road for a couple of hours, stopping when he finally reached a bright yellow house out in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. He put the Impala into park directly in front of the house, pulled up the emergency brake in the car, and then climbed out, staring at the big yellow house. He looked around him, but saw nothing unusual. He sighed and started for the house. Dean jogged up the big front porch steps, pushing open the white front door easily. He walked slowly into the brightly lit house, stopping in the entryway that led from the living room to the dining room. A family of five was sitting down at their dining room table, eating a delicious meal. Sam sat next to one of the daughters. He looked up, his eyes full of alarm and panic as he spotted Dean leaning against the entryway.

"Wow. Just wow," smirked Dean.

"Dean?" asked Sam, looking slightly confused.

Dean nodded slightly.

"What are you doing in my dream?" asked Sam, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

Dean tilted his head knowingly.

A few minutes later, Sam and Dean watched the family continue to eat their dinner. Sam had vacated his chair, but the family still spoke as if someone was sitting there, not realizing that Sam was gone. Sam looked to Dean.

"Heaven?" asked Sam.

"Yup," answered Dean.

"Okay, how are we in Heaven?"

"Well, all that clean living, I guess."

"No. You, I understand, sure. But me? Maye you haven't noticed, but I've done a few things," said Sam.

"But you thought you were doing the right thing."

"Yeah, well, last time I checked, it wasn't the road to Heaven that was paved with good intentions," argued Sam.

He glanced at the family before them once again before looking back at Dean.

"You know, this house is one of my memories," said Sam.

"When I woke up, I woke up in one of my memories. The 4th of July when we burned down that field?"

Sam smirked knowingly, nodding his head slowly.

"Maybe that's what Heaven is, a place where you re-live your greatest hits."

"Wait, so playing footsie with brace face in there was one of your greatest moments?" asked Dean, smirking.

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Dean, I was only eleven years old. This was my first real Thanksgiving."

"What are you talking about? We had a Thanksgiving every single year," argued Dean.

"We had a bucket of extra crispy fried chicken and Dad was always passed out on the couch," shot back Sam.

Dean nodded once in agreement. As Sam began to say something else, a loud rumbling began to shake the house. Both of their faces became suddenly serious.

"I don't remember any of this," said Sam.

The lights all went out at once, but the family continued on as if nothing weird was happening around them. A bright light began flashing through their windows.

"Hey, we should, um…" began Dean.

"Yeah, definitely," agreed Sam.

He and Dean headed for shelter in the living room area, Sam hiding in a corner along the wall away from the windows while Dean ducked behind a loveseat. The bright white light flashed in the living room windows, but then disappeared. The rumbling stopped shaking the house and the brothers both stood up straight as the lights all flickered back on.

"Um, what the hell was all of that?" asked Sam.

Dean headed for a large radio set up in another corner of the room.

"I have no clue, but we're taking the escalator back downstairs as soon as possible," answered Dean.

He began smacking the radio to turn it on to get a hold of Castiel.

"Cas!" yelled Dean.

"Um, what are you doing?" asked Sam, looking very confused.

"What's it look like?" asked Dean.

"Like you've lost your mind," answered Sam.

Dean sighed abruptly.

"Cas talked to me earlier using this whole radio thing, so I… Cas!"

"I can hear you," responded Castiel.

Dean looked around for the source of Castiel's voice and this time, the living room TV flickered to life as Castiel's face swam before Sam and Dean on the TV screen.

"Cas, hey. So I found Sam, but something else just happened. There was this weird beam of bright white light," said Dean, standing directly in front of the TV.

"Don't go anywhere near that light."

"Um, alright, thanks for that. What was it?"

"Not what, but who. Zachariah. He's searching for the two of you."

"And if he finds us?" asked Sam.

"You can't say yes to Michael and Lucifer if you're both dead. Zachariah is trying to return both of you to your respective bodies," explained Castiel.

"Great! Problem solved!" exclaimed Sam.

"No, you don't understand. You're behind the wall, this is a very rare opportunity."

"For what?" asked Dean.

"For you to find an angel. His name is Joshua."

"No offense, man, but we are kind of done with all angels, alright? You go ahead and find him," replied Dean.

"I can't. I can't return to Heaven."

"But what's so important about this Joshua?" asked Sam.

"The rumor is… he talks to God."

"And so?" asked Dean.

"Do you think that maybe, just maybe, we should find out what the hell God has been saying?" yelled Castiel.

"Geez, touchy," remarked Dean, rolling his eyes towards Castiel.

"Please, I just need you two to follow the road."

"What road?" asked Sam.

"It's called the Axis Mundi. It's a path that runs through Heaven and different people see it as different things. For you, it's two lane asphalt. The road will lead you to the garden and you will find Joshua there. Then Joshua can take us all to God. The garden. Please, hurry."

The TV flickered off. Sam took in a deep breath before looking over to his brother.

"So. What do you think?"

"I think that we hit the road and find this Joshua guy."

"Really?"

"What, you don't?" asked Dean.

"No, I'm just surprised that you do. You think that he can help us?" asked Sam.

"I think that he's the only one who can. I mean, come on, Sam, we are royally fucked. So prayer it is, the last hope of a desperate man."

Dean headed for the front door and Sam reluctantly followed him. As they both stepped onto the front porch, they stopped short. In front of them was a large wooded area, not the front lawn as before.

"Wasn't there a street out here?" asked Sam.

"There was," replied Dean.

They headed back inside the house then, Dean opening random doors and peering inside.

"Um, Dean, what are you doing?"

"I'm looking for a road, Sammy."

"So you think that the road is in a closet?"

Dean flipped on a light and turned back to face his little brother.

"We're in Heaven, Sammy, okay? All of our memories are coming true, Cas is on TV. Finding a road in a closet would be pretty much the most normal thing to happen to us all day."

Dean crouched down as he noticed a small toy car track in the bottom of the closet.

"What is it?" asked Sam, crouching down next to him to look inside the closet as well.

"I used to have one of these," answered Dean.

He picked up a toy car. It was a bright blue and had the number 43 emblazoned on the hood.

"When I was a kid," finished Dean.

He placed the blue toy car on the track and it took him and Sam to another place. As they watched the toy car race around the track that Dean had placed it on, Dean was now crouched down in a little boy's bedroom instead of a closet doorway. He was wearing a plaid flannel shirt and jeans while Sam was wearing a black t-shirt, blue jeans, and a tan jacket. He was crouched down beside Dean.

"That was the road?" he asked.

"Apparently so," said Dean.

He smirked and stood up, Sam right behind him.

"Kind of trippy, right?" asked Dean.

Sam nodded and they both began to look around the bedroom.

"Wait a minute, I know this place. I know where we are."

"Where are we?" asked Sam, turning to look at his brother.

"We're home," answered Dean.

As Sam turned to scope out the room once again, a woman's voice called out.

"Dean," she said.

They both looked towards the door and as it opened, Mary Winchester's head popped into Dean's room. She smiled over at the two of them.

"Hey, Dean, you hungry?" she asked, her beautiful smile plastered on her lips.

Sam and Dean both looked as if they had seen a ghost as they stared at their mother.

Alex stood up, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. She shuddered as she saw the blood on both of the bodies of Sam and Dean. She walked over to the table near the door and plopped herself down in one of the hard-backed chairs. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed in the one number she had memorized besides Sam and Dean's.

"Alex. How I love hearing your voice, baby," answered Kellan.

"Kellan, Sam and Dean are dead," said Alex, choking up as she spoke.

"What? Where are you?"

"Um, we're in Bismarck, North Dakota. Where are you?"

"I'm in Louisiana. Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. Are you alright? What happened?"

"I don't know. I was out getting some breakfast and when I came back an hour later, they were gone. It looks like a shotgun blast to the chest on both of them."

"Alex, I can be there in a couple of days. Just-"

"Kellan, no. I can do this. Will you just stay on the phone with me? Please?"

"Sure, babe. Anything."

Alex sighed with relief as Kellan stayed on the phone with her. She curled her legs up under her as she sat in her chair, talking to the love of her life.

Sam stood in the entryway to their childhood home's kitchen as Mary poured Dean a glass of skim milk.

"Do you want the crusts cut off?" she asked him.

"Yeah. I'd love that," answered Dean.

He watched as Mary cut the crusts off of his sandwich.

"Mom?" called out Sam, but Mary clearly couldn't hear him as she continued cutting up Dean's sandwich.

Dean looked from his little brother to his mother.

"It's not your memory, Sam, sorry."

As Mary cut Dean's sandwich into two halves, Sam sighed.

"Dean, we should go. Keep looking for the road."

"I know, just give me a minute, alright?"

Mary gently placed her hand on Dean's right shoulder and Dean smiled over at her. As she walked back into the kitchen, the landline phone rang. She picked it up from off of its hook on the kitchen wall and answered it.

"Hello?"

Her face fell as the person on the other end of the call spoke to her. She turned away from Sam and Dean then.

"No, John. We're not having this conversation again… Time to think about what?... You have three children at home…"

"I remember this. Mom and Dad were fighting and then he moved out for a couple of days," said Dean, watching his mother carefully.

"Dad always said that they had the perfect marriage," replied Sam, looking confused now.

"It wasn't perfect until after she died," whispered Dean.

"Fine, then don't… There's nothing more to talk about."

Mary slammed the phone down then, taking in a deep breath with her back still turned on Dean and Sam.

"What happens next?" asked Sam.

Dean stood up from his chair and walked into the kitchen to stand directly in front of his mother.

"It's alright, Mom. Dad still loves you. I love you, too. I'll never leave you."

Dean pulled his mother into a hug and she embraced him with open arms, holding him tightly. She let go after a few seconds and cupped his face lovingly. She smiled at her oldest son.

"You are my little angel. How about some pie, hmm?"

She turned away and headed for the fridge while Dean headed back towards the kitchen table. Sam was shaking his head from his place in the entryway.

"What?" asked Dean.

Sam just shrugged and smiled sadly.

"I guess that I just never realized how long you've been cleaning up after Dad's messes."

Dean looked away for a split second and then sighed.

"Whatever, let's just keep moving."

They began searching all throughout their childhood house, looking for the road that they were to travel along. They opened drawers and cabinets, Dean even looking out the windows. Finally, Sam pulled out a postcard from a desk drawer. It was bright blue and had the words 'Greetings from Route 66!' plastered on it in a tropical pattern.

"I've seen this before," said Sam, looking down at the postcard in his hands.

"Where?" asked Dean.

As Sam held the postcard up for both of them to see, they were transported to a new place. In front of Dean was a wall full of postcards, the one that Sam had just found directly in the middle of the wall.

"Where are we?" asked Dean.

A small smile played along the corners of Sam's mouth.

"No way," he whispered to himself.

Suddenly, a golden retriever ran around the corner and Sam knelt down to pet him.

"Bones! Come here, boy!"

The dog licked Sam's face very enthusiastically as Dean looked on with disgust.

"Bones?"

"Yeah. Bones was my dog," explained Sam.

He stood up from his crouch and began opening empty pizza boxes that were sitting on a coffee table. He sat down in an armchair.

"Your dog?" asked Dean, looking around the place.

"Yeah."

"Is this Flagstaff?"

"Yeah. Hey, boy," said Sam, turning his attention back to Bones and ruffling the fur on top of his golden head.

"And this is a good memory for you?" asked Dean, sounding astounded.

"Yeah, I mean, I was on my own for two whole weeks. I loved off of Funyuns and Mr. Pibb."

Dean nodded his head slowly.

"Wow."

"What?" asked Sam, his smile fading slightly.

"You don't even remember, do you? You ran away on my watch. I looked everywhere for you, I seriously thought that you were dead. And then when Dad came home…"

Sam looked down at the floor. He sighed.

"Dean, look, I'm sorry. I never thought about it like that."

"Forget it, let's roll."

Dean began walking away from Sam, heading out the front door. Sam sighed as Dean walked outside. He fed Bones another slice of pepperoni from a not quite empty pizza box and then stood up, walking outside after his older brother. The dog whined sadly and began following after Sam, so Sam bent down and gave him a few more pats on the head.

"Stay," he ordered.

The dog whined sadly once more.

"Bonesy, stay."

As Sam walked out the door, Bones barked loudly, but his barking became nonexistent as Sam stepped out onto a darkened road. A very old, dilapidated house was before them across the road. They turned back around, but Sam's trailer was nowhere behind them. They stood in the middle of the road, very confused as to where they were now.

"What memory is this?" asked Dean.

"No idea. But Dean, road, God, remember."

"Wait a minute. This… This is the night you ditched us for Stanford, isn't it? This is your idea of Heaven? Wow. This is one of the worst nights of my life."

"I can't control this stuff, Dean."

"Seriously? This is a happy memory for you?"

"I don't know. I mean, I was finally on my own. I got away from Dad."

"Yeah, he wasn't the only one you got away from."

Dean turned his back on Sam, who sighed loudly.

"Dean, I'm sorry. I just…"

Dean whirled back around to face his little brother.

"No, I know. You didn't think of it like that at all."

"Dean."

"Come on, Sammy! I mean, your Heaven is someone else's Thanksgiving. It's bailing on your family. What do you want me to say, man?"

"Man, I never got the crusts cut off of my PB&J. I just don't look at family the same way that you do."

"Yeah, but I'm your family. Alex is your family. We're supposed to be a team, all three of us against the world!"

"Dean, it is," said Sam, his face sad now.

"Is it?"

Sam sighed sadly, but as he began to respond, a bright white light erupted from the sky.

"Go!" yelled Dean, running towards the woods with Sam right behind him.

They disappeared into the trees as quickly as they could, hurling themselves over roots and fallen branches. They both jumped behind a huge fallen tree trunk and listened carefully for footsteps as they also tried to catch their breath.

"Wow. Running from angels. On foot, no less. In Heaven. With some out of the box thinking like that, I'm surprised that you Winchesters haven't stopped the apocalypse already!"

Zachariah chuckled to himself. He snapped his fingers and the night suddenly turned into day.

"Guys, what's the problem? I just want to send you back to Earth, that's all. I mean, that is after I tear you both a new one. You're on my turf now, boys. And by the time I'm through with both of you, you're going to be begging to say yes."

As Zachariah turned his back on them once again, Sam and Dean made a quick run for it. After a few short feet, they stopped. Zachariah stood in front of them.

"Guys, come on. You can run, but you can't… run."

Sam and Dean took off back in the direction that they had just come from. After another few feet, they stopped short once again, but this time, a man in a superhero mask stood in front of them.

"Shh," he commanded them.

Then he beckoned them forward.

"Hurry! This way!"

He ran towards a shack in the middle of the woods, stopping for a brief minute to draw some sort of symbol on the door in white chalk. He then opened the door and Sam and Dean both followed him inside the shack.

"Wait, who are you?" asked Sam.

The man took off his mask and threw his gold cape off into the bar and saloon where they now stood.

"Buenos dias, bitches," he said, standing with his hands on his hips triumphantly.

"Ash?" asked Dean.

Ash clapped twice and the lights turned on. He held up his hands.

"Welcome to my little slice of Heaven."

Sam smirked. He and Dean stepped forward into the saloon.

"The Roadhouse. It even smells the same," said Dean, looking around the place.

"You two want a cold one?" asked Ash, walking behind the bar.

Sam and Dean walked over to the bar and Ash handed them two cans of beer.

"Up here, no hangover."

Sam and Dean sat down at the bar.

"So, no offense, but-"

"How's a dirt bag like me end up in a place like this? I've been saved, man."

"And you said that this was, um, your Heaven?" asked Sam, taking a sip from his cold beer.

"Yes, sir."

Ash quickly shot gunned a beer of his own while Dean and Sam looked on.

"So when the angels jumped us, you were…"

"In your head," answered Ash, pointing over to Sam.

"So there are two Heavens," stated Sam.

"No, more like a hundred billion, so no worries, it will take them angels a minute to catch up."

Dean and Sam looked astonished.

"See, you two have got to stop thinking of Heaven as one place. It's more like a million places, all crammed together. Kind of like Disneyland."

"Disneyland?" asked Sam, slightly chuckling at Ash's description of Heaven.

"Mmm-hmm. See, you've got Winchesterland, Ashland, a whole mess of everybody else land, and you put them all together and get Heaven, right? And at the center of it all is the Magic Kingdom. The garden."

"So everyone gets a little slice of paradise," stated Dean.

"Pretty much. A few people share, special cases and stuff."

"What do you mean by special?"

"Oh, you know, like soul mates. But anyway, most people can't leave their own little private Idaho's."

"But you're not most people."

"Nope. They ain't got my skills. Hell, I've been all over this place. Johnny Cash, Andre the Giant, Einstein."

Ash turned to face Sam, who smiled when he mentioned Einstein.

"Sam, that man can mix a White Russian. Hell, the other day, I found that man who wrote The Kama Sutra. That boy's Heaven is all sweaty and confusing."

"All of this from a man who used to sleep on a pool table," stated Dean.

"Yeah, now that I'm dead, I'm living, man. A whole lot more."

Ash cracked his neck and stretched his shoulders.

"So how'd you find us?" asked Sam, taking a drink from his still half-full beer can.

"I have rigged up my very own holy police scanner."

Ash pulled out what looked like an old laptop from under the bar and hit enter. A loud ringing erupted from the speakers, causing Sam and Dean to hold their ears.

"Angels blabbing. I'm fluent, alright?"

He hit enter once again and the ringing noise stopped. Sam and Dean let go of their ears. Ash closed the laptop screen and put it back under the bar.

"I heard that you two were up here, so of course I had to come and find you all. Again."

"Again?" asked Dean, looking very confused now.

"This ain't the first time you've been here. I mean, you boys die more than anyone that I have ever met, seriously."

"Really?" asked Dean, looking off into nothing.

"Hmm, yeah, I guess you all don't really remember any of that. God, angels must have wiped your brains clear."

"So, um, have you found anyone else? Ellen or Joe?" asked Sam.

Ash looked astonished.

"Ellen and Joe are dead?"

He looked from Sam to Dean.

"Um, yeah. Yeah, a few months now, actually. Sorry," said Sam, looking down at the floor.

Ash looked away and rubbed his face with his hands.

"They went down fighting?"

Sam nodded.

"Yeah, to the end."

"A lot of good it did," said Dean.

He took a drink from his bar while Sam looked at him strangely. Dean focused his attention back onto Ash.

"What about our folks?"

"I've been looking all over for John Winchester. Mary, too. So far, nothing. I'm really sorry. But hey! There is someone that I know for sure wants to chat with you. Hold up."

Ash slammed his hand down on the bar and then walked into the back. Sam and Dean exchanged a nervous glance, but sighed in relief when they saw who Ash walked back through the door a few seconds later.

"Pamela," said Sam, smiling over at her.

"Nice to finally see you boys again."

"Whoo!" yelled Ash.

As Sam and Ash sat at the bar with the holy police scanner open in front of them and Ash typing away on it, Dean sat with Pamela at a smaller bar table.

"So," said Dean.

"So," said Pamela.

She smiled and then reached over, slapping him over the head. Dean's smile faded suddenly as he rubbed at the back of his head.

"That's for getting me killed."

"Yeah. Well, that's probably a lot less than what I actually deserve. If it makes you feel any better, we got Ash killed too."

Ash held up a rock and roll sign on his fingers.

"I'm cool with it!" he yelled back to Dean, his eyes never leaving his police scanner.

"He's cool with it. So, are you alright? Are you good?"

"I'm good. Really. Remember my death scene? Got shot, coughing up blood? You told me that I was going someplace better," said Pamela.

"I was lying," said Dean, looking down at the table, ashamed of himself.

"You were right! My heaven is one long show at the Meadowlands. It's amazing! You should see it, actually."

"Yeah?"

Dean took a long drink from his beer as Pamela's smile faded.

"You don't believe me."

"Oh, I do, it's just, you know, spending eternity trapped in your own little universe while the angels run the show, that's lonely. You know? That's not nirvana, that's The Matrix."

"I don't know. The attic's still better than the basement."

"Yeah, but… This place feels real, but it's a memory. Real is down there."

"Well, close enough."

Pamela downed a swig of her whiskey and then set it back down.

"Look, Dean, I'm happy. I'm at peace."

"What, are you trying to sell me a time share? What's with the pitch?"

"I know that Michael wants to take you out for a test drive."

"Pamela…"

"I'm just stating the facts here. What happens if you actually play ball with him? Worst case scenario?"

"A lot of people will lose their lives."

"And then what? They come right here. Is that really so bad?"

Dean stared at her angrily. Pamela's face softened.

"Look, maybe you don't have to fight it so damn hard. That's all I'm trying to say, I promise."

"Hey. We just found a shortcut to the garden," called out Sam, turning around on his barstool to face Dean and Pamela.

"Oh, yeah," whispered Ash.

As Ash drew some more symbols using chalk, Sam hugged Pamela tight.

"Watch your ass," warned Pamela.

Sam nodded then and let go of her. Dean held out his arms, smiling. Pamela grabbed his head and pulled him down for a kiss. Once Pamela had pulled away, she smirked.

"Yep. Just how I always imagined it would be."

She laughed and patted his cheek twice. Dean turned around and Ash faced the two of them.

"Gentlemen. I don't mean to be a downer or anything, but, um, I'm sure I'll see you again soon."

Dean turned back around, winked at Pamela, and then turned back to face Ash once again.

"Well, keep a six-pack on ice for us."

Ash nodded and opened the door behind him. Sam and Dean walked through it and stepped into a kitchen. The room was dark and a train could be heard from the distance. They heard the door shut behind them.

"What the…"

Dean trailed off as he took in his surroundings.

"Why are we back home?"

"I have no clue," replied Sam.

Dean sighed deeply.

"What are we gonna do?" asked Sam.

"Keep looking for the road again, I guess," replied Dean.

"Honey, why are you awake?" asked Mary from behind Dean.

Both brothers looked at her as she walked towards them.

"Look, I'm sorry. I love you, but you're not real and we don't have time-" said Dean.

"Did you have a nightmare? Tell me," said Mary.

"I've gotta go."

Dean began walking away, but he and Sam were both stopped by the next words that their mother spoke.

"Then how about I tell you my nightmare, Dean?"

Both boys looked at their mother, whose smile had now faded.

"The night I burned."

As they looked on, blood began staining the front of Mary's white nightgown.

"Sammy, let's get out of here."

Dean and Sam began heading for the door once again, but Mary spoke to them once more.

"Don't you dare walk away from me."

Dean turned to face her, his eyes wide.

"I never loved you. You were my burden child. I was shackled to you. And look what it got me."

Mary's eyes flashed an ugly shade of yellow, like a demon's. Except they never changed back to a normal color. Sam looked alarmed.

"Dean," said Sam.

As Dean turned towards him, a bright and eerie green light entered the room. Every exit was blocked off by bricks and Mary's eyes finally returned to her normal blue color. She smirked and stepped slightly closer to Dean.

"The worst was the smell. The pain, well, what can you say about your skin bubbling off. But the smell was so… you know, for a second I thought that I left a pot roast burning in the oven. But it was my meat."

Dean began stepping away from her, looking for any way out that he could find.

"And then, finally, I was dead. The one silver lining is that at least I was away from you."

Mary smirked an eerie smirk while Dean touched the bricks along the entryway.

"Everyone leaves you, Dean. Have you happened to notice that? Mommy, Daddy. Even Sam."

Mary looked over at Sam then for a split second.

"Have you ever asked yourself why that is? Maybe it's not them. Maybe it's you."

Mary chuckled darkly and then footsteps sounded from behind her.

"Easy there, kitten," said Zachariah.

He stepped into view, right beside Mary. Sam and Dean glared at him with hatred.

"You did this," ground out Sam.

"And I'm just getting started. I mean, come on, guys. Did you really think that you could just sneak right on past me into mission control?"

"You son of a bitch," said Sam, stepping towards him.

Before Sam even took one step forward, a man appeared out of nowhere and held him back. Another one was also holding onto Dean. Both Sam and Dean began struggling.

"You know, I could say the same thing about you, Sam, but I have actually grown quite fond of your mother. Or at least the blessed memory of her."

Zachariah moved Mary's hair away from her neck and leaned down to plant a kiss on her neck. Dean closed his eyes, not wanting to look.

"I think that we're going to be logging a lot of quality time together. I've discovered that she's quite the… the MILF."

"Gloat all you want, you dick. You're still bald," quipped Dean, smirking sinisterly.

"In Heaven, I have six wings and four faces, one of which is a lion. You only see this because you're…"

Zachariah trailed off as he ran his palm down Mary's arm.

"Limited," he finished, looking back over at Sam and Dean.

Mary turned to smile at Zachariah and he snapped his fingers, causing her to disappear into thin air. He then walked over and slammed his fist straight into Dean's stomach.

"Get him up," demanded Zachariah.

The man holding Dean straightened him up and then Zachariah punched him in the stomach once again. Sam flinched.

"Let me tell you something. I was once on the fast track. Employee of the month every month ever. I walked these halls and people would avert their eyes! I had respect!"

Zachariah looked between the two brothers, Dean standing up straight once again.

"And then they assigned me to you two hooligans. Now look at me. I can't close the deal on a couple of pathetic flannel-wearing douchebags? Everyone's laughing at me now. And they're right to do it. So, say yes or don't say yes, I'm still going to take it out of your asses. It's personal now, gentlemen. And the last person in the history of creation that you want as your enemy is me. And I'll tell you why. Lucifer may be strong, but I'm petty. I'm going to be the angel on your shoulders for the rest of all eternity."

"Excuse me, sir?" called out a voice behind Zachariah.

He turned around to see an older black man standing in the kitchen, his hands clasped together and a serene smile on his weathered face.

"I'm in a meeting," said Zachariah, holding his hand out towards the Winchester brothers.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I need to speak to those two gentlemen right there," responded the man.

Zachariah stepped towards him, his face now confused.

"Excuse me?"

"It's a really bad time, I realize this. But I'm utterly afraid that I have to insist upon this."

Zachariah let out a short chuckle.

"You don't get to insist anything."

"No, you're absolutely right. But the boss does. His orders."

"You're lying."

"I would never lie about something as serious as this. Look, fire me if you would like. But sooner or later, He's going to come back home. And you know how He is with that whole wrath thing and all."

Zachariah looked from the man to the brothers and then back again. After a split second, he and his cronies were gone, Sam and Dean now standing in their old house's living room of their own free will. As they stared at the man in front of them, they were suddenly transported into a beautiful greenhouse garden. They looked around in awe.

"This is Heaven's garden?" asked Sam, looking to the man in front of them.

"It's… niceish," remarked Dean, looking towards the ceiling and chuckling slightly.

"You see what you want to see here. For some it's God's throne room and for others it's Eden. For you two, I believe that it's the Cleveland Botanical Gardens."

Sam and Dean looked around once more.

"You came here once on a field trip," explained the man.

"You're Joshua," stated Sam, staring back at the man once again.

"I'm Joshua," he replied.

"So you… talk to God."

"Mostly He talks to me."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, Dean nodding briefly towards Sam, who then turned back towards Joshua.

"Well, um, we need to speak to Him. It's really important."

"Where is He?" asked Dean, smiling nervously.

"On Earth."

"Doing what, exactly?"

"I have no clue."

"Do you know where He is on Earth?" asked Sam.

"No, sorry. We don't usually speak face-to-face."

Sam nodded with understanding, but Dean struggled to understand Joshua.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand. God doesn't talk to anyone-"

"Then why is He talking with me? I sometimes think that it's because I can… sympathize. Gardener to gardener. And between the three of us, I think that He gets very lonely."

"Well, my heart's simply just breaking for Him," said Dean, very sarcastically.

"Well, can you at least… give Him a message for us?" asked Sam.

Joshua's gaze lingered on Dean's face for a moment longer, but then he turned his attention back over to Sam's concerns.

"Actually, He has a message for you."

Sam and Dean looked to Joshua earnestly.

"Back off. He knows already. Everything you want to tell him. He knows what the angels are doing. He knows that the apocalypse has begun. He just doesn't think that it's His problem."

"Not His problem?" repeated Dean, angry now.

"God saved your life already. He put you on that plane. He brought back Castiel. He granted you salvation in Heaven and after everything that you've done, too. It's more than He's ever intervened in a very long time."

Joshua let out a deep sigh before continuing forward with his little speech.

"He's finished. Magic amulet or not. You won't be able to find Him anymore."

"But He can stop this. He can stop all of this!" yelled Dean.

"Yes, I suppose that He could. But He won't."

"Why not?"

"With so much evil in this world, you could drive yourself nuts asking questions like that."

"So He's just going to sit back and watch the world burn?"

"I know how important this was to you, Dean. I'm very sorry," said Joshua, shaking his head sadly as he looked at Dean.

"Well, forget it. Just another deadbeat dad with a bunch of lousy excuses, right? I'm used to that. I'll muddle through," promised Dean.

"Except… You don't know if you can this time. You can't kill the devil. And you're losing faith. In yourself, your brother, your sister. And now this. God was your last hope. I just… I wish that I could tell you something different, that's all."

Dean looked down at the floor sadly.

"So how do we know that you're actually telling us the truth?" asked Sam.

"Do you think that I would lie?" asked Joshua, tilting his head as he looked over at Sam then.

"It's just… You're not exactly the first angel that we've met," explained Sam, smirking sadly.

"I'm rooting for you boys. And your sister too. I wish that I could do more to help you all, I really truly do! But I just trimmed the hedges."

Joshua gave them a sad smile and then turned his back on them, beginning to walk away from the two brothers.

"So what now?" asked Dean.

"You go home once again."

He turned back to face them.

"But I'm afraid that this time… won't be like the last. This time… God wants you to remember."

Joshua finished speaking in a whisper as he held up his right palm. A bright white light burst from it and as Sam and Dean squinted their eyes against the oncoming burst of light, they were transported back into their regular lives and out of Heaven.

Sam gasped for breath as he was placed back into his living body. Blood still spattered his shirt as he looked down at the front of himself. Dean gasped for breath as he sat up. He let out a cough as he too looked to the front of his shirt.

"Are you alright?" asked Sam, looking over at his brother.

"Define alright," responded Dean.

"Dean? Sam?"

They both looked towards the bathroom doorway where Alex was standing, her eyes opened wide. Her hair was still wet from her shower, but she had on jeans and a white V-neck t-shirt.

"It's us, baby girl. Alive and well," replied Dean.

"Oh, thank God," cried out Alex.

She ran towards him and Dean stood up, wrapping her up in his arms. He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes as he embraced her.

"Thank God you're alive, Alex. I was scared that the men who shot us were going to come after you. They threatened to, at least," said Dean.

"No one was here when I got back, but I'm so glad you're alive. I was so scared when I found you guys dead and I didn't know what to even do so I called Kellan and he talked to me for like, 24 hours straight," said Alex straight into Dean's chest.

"Well, I guess you'll have to call him back and tell him that we're back on Earth and alive," said Sam, smiling at her.

Alex nodded and Dean let her go so that she could embrace Sam. She scrunched up her nose as she saw his bloodstained clothes, but she hugged him anyway. Sam stroked her hair and said a silent prayer to thank God and the good angels that they were all alive.

As they were packing up to leave their motel about an hour later, Castiel stood off to the side of the motel room.

"Maybe… Maybe Joshua was just lying," said Castiel, looking forlorn as he processed what Dean and Sam had told him about their experience in Heaven with Joshua.

Dean zipped up his duffel bag and then looked towards Castiel's still form. Sam and Alex also looked towards him, Alex frowning sadly.

"I don't think he was, Cas. I'm sorry," replied Sam.

Sam sighed deeply as Castiel looked down at the floor sadly. Dean just stared at the fallen angel as Castiel headed towards the door. He stopped a few feet from it and looked up towards the ceiling.

"You sick son of a bitch. I believed in you."

Dean's face was full of sadness as Castiel turned around to face the three Winchester siblings. He pulled something from his tan trench coat pocket and tossed it towards Dean.

"I don't need this anymore."

Dean caught the item in his hands easily and looked down at the amulet that Castiel had borrowed months ago when he embarked on his search for his father, God. It was the same one that Sam and Alex had given to him one Christmas Eve when they were kids. Dean unfurled the chain that it hung on and looked down at the amulet for a split second.

"It's worthless," said Castiel.

He then turned, heading for the door.

"Cas," called out Sam.

"Wait!" cried Alex, but it was already too late.

Castiel disappeared straight up into thin air with a flap of his rather large angel wings. Sam threw up his hands with frustration.

"We'll find another way," said Sam, throwing a piece of clothing onto his motel room bed.

"We can still stop all of this."

"How?" asked Dean, finally looking up from the amulet in his hands.

"I don't know. But we'll find it. All three of us- you, me, and Alex- we'll find it."

"We will, Sammy. We will," responded Alex.

She gave her twin brother a genuine smile and then watched as Dean grabbed his duffel bag in one hand, still holding his necklace from Castiel in the other. He headed for the door and stopped right as he reached the door knob. He unfurled the necklace from where it was wrapped around his palm and held it over the trashcan by the door. Sam and Alex both heard it clunk as it thudded to the bottom of the empty trashcan. Alex flinched, but Sam just sighed. Dean then pulled open the motel room's only door and left it open as he headed outside towards the Impala.

A few nights later, Alex and Sam sat in the backseat of the Impala as Dean pushed his car to its limit. Sam's arm was bleeding profusely as Alex tried to staunch the bleeding. She glanced behind them and her eyes went wide with alarm.

"Drive faster, Dean," she ground out.

Dean glanced in his rearview mirror quickly.

"I'm trying. Sammy, are you alright?"

"I'm amazing," grunted Sam, wincing from the pain in his arm.

"I've never seen that many before!" yelled Dean, looking behind them once again.

"Never in one place. What the hell is going on around here?" yelled Alex.

She and Sam held themselves in place as Dean swung the car around a turn. He slammed on his brakes as their exit was blocked by a large pile of burning wood. He threw the car into reverse, but as he shifted to put it back into drive, his window was shattered.

"Damn it!" yelled Alex.

Dean was being dragged through his now broken window by a demon, who was holding him by the neck. As more demons opened the doors and began climbing inside to grab Sam and Alex, they suddenly retreated, screaming in pain. The demon holding Dean released him suddenly and the three Winchester siblings looked on as the demons yelled in pain. A truck was parked off to the side of the road and a fire hose was spraying holy water onto all of the demons surrounding it. A man began yelling an exorcism chant through a megaphone. Clouds of black smoke erupted from bodies and flew into the night sky. The Winchesters looked at the people standing in the Ford pickup truck, their eyes wide.

"Well, there's something you don't see every day," remarked Dean.

With the engine still idling, the three siblings climbed out of their car. A man was walking towards them, a shotgun in his hands.

"Are you three alright?" he asked them.

"We're just peachy!" yelled Dean, looking around him.

"Be careful. It's… dangerous around here."

"Whoa, wait up!" yelled Dean.

He ran around the car to catch up to the man.

"There's no need to thank us!" yelled the mystery man, not turning around to acknowledge Dean running towards him.

"Just hold up a second. Who are you?" asked Dean.

The man turned around then.

"We're the Sacrament Lutheran Militia."

Alex scoffed as she and Sam joined Dean.

"I'm sorry, the what?" she asked him.

"I hate to tell you folks this, but those were demons and this is the apocalypse. So… buckle up."

The man gave them a smirk and Alex rolled her eyes.

"Follow me, buddy."

She led the way to the trunk of the Impala. Dean unlocked it and pulled up the fake trunk to reveal their family arsenal kept there. The man looked down at all of their weapons, his two companions also looking into their trunk.

"Looks like we're in the same line of business, hot shot," remarked Alex.

"And among colleagues. That's a police issued shotgun. And that truck is… inspired. Where did you all pick up this shit?" asked Dean.

"You know, you pick things up along the way," replied one of the other men.

"Guys, there are demon omens crawling along this corner of the state. We just want to help, that's all."

"We're on the same team here. You've just gotta talk to us," encouraged Sam.

The two older men exchanged a knowing look. The one with shaggy hair who had held the megaphone nodded slightly.

"Follow us."

He and his companions headed for their truck while Sam, Alex, and Dean climbed into their Impala. They drove for an hour or two, finally hitting a church early in the morning. The truck pulled up to the church and stopped, so Dean pulled in directly behind it. Everyone climbed out of their respective cars and Sam threw Alex his blood soaked shirt. She caught it and threw it in the trunk that Dean had opened. She tossed him another flannel and he shrugged it on over his white wifebeater. He also threw on his tan jacket and then they headed into the church after their newfound companions. Two men were standing guard outside of the church and a Devil's Trap was painted onto the sidewalk. As they stepped inside the church, they saw a small congregation sitting in the few back pews. A pastor stood at the front and three couples stood before him. Alex observed the congregation and saw that every single person who was sitting on the end held a shotgun in their hand.

"I think this is a wedding ceremony," whispered Sam.

"Seriously?" whispered back Dean.

"Yep. We've had eight so far this week," said one of the men that they had followed into town.

"Good Lord," whispered Alex.

A few minutes later, the ceremony was over. They all walked outside and watched as everyone gathered on both sides of the sidewalk in front of the church's entrance. They threw rose petals over the three newly married couples as they walked past them. The pastor stopped besides Dean, Sam, and Alex.

"So. Rob tells me that you three hunt and kill demons," he said.

"Um, yes, sir," answered Sam, sticking his hands in the pocket of his jackets.

Dean nodded and then observed the man. He had a gun tucked into the back waistband of his jeans.

"Any idea why they're all here?" asked Alex.

"No clue. They sure seem to like us though."

The pastor scoffed and then he looked all three of them in the face.

"Follow me."

He headed back into the church, but led them down a flight of stairs and into a very different part of the church.

"So you're a preacher," said Dean.

"Not what you expected, huh?"

"Well, dude, you're packing."

"Strange times."

He pushed open a set of double doors to reveal a large room full of people. There were three long tables running down the room and kids and adults alike were helping to clean weapons. Dean glanced twice at a little girl packing salt into bullet casings.

"Is that a 12 year old packing salt rounds?"

"Everyone pitches in."

"So, the whole church?" asked Alex.

"The whole town."

"A whole town full of hunters? I'd either run screaming or buy a condo," quipped Dean.

"The demons were killing us; we had to do something."

"So why not call the National Guard?" asked Sam.

"We were told not to."

"By who?" asked Alex.

The preacher looked away and Dean sighed.

"Someone's telling you something. Who is it?" demanded Dean.

The pastor shook his head slowly.

"Look, I'm sorry. I can't discuss this."

"Dad, it's alright," said a girl from behind them.

All three Winchester siblings turned to face this new girl. She had light brown hair that fell to her shoulders and curves in all the right places.

"Leah," warned the pastor.

"It's the Winchesters. They're all safe."

They all stared at her strangely. She smiled gently.

"I know all about the three of them."

"Um, you do?" asked Dean.

"Sure. From the angels."

"The angels. Awesome," said Dean.

"Don't worry, they can't see you here. The marks on your ribs, right?"

"So you know all about us because the angels told you?" asked Alex, crossing her arms over her chest and staring her down.

Leah nodded.

"Yes. Among other things."

"Like the snappy little exorcism spell," said Dean.

"And they showed me where the demons are going to be before it happens. How to fight back."

"And they've never been wrong."

The pastor moved around the three Winchester siblings to stand beside his daughter.

"Not once."

He stroked his daughter's hair and she smiled up at her father.

"So before you see something, you get a really bad migraine and you see some flashing lights, right?" asked Dean.

"How'd you know?"

"Because you're definitely not the first prophet that we've met. But you are the cutest."

Dean smiled over at her and Leah smiled back. The pastor glared over at him and Dean's smile faded.

"I mean that with total respect, of course."

Later that night, Alex stood at the bar with Sam as they waited for their drinks. Sam dialed Castiel's cell and waited to leave a message.

"Cas, we're in Blue Earth, Minnesota. Call me as soon as you get this. We could seriously need your help."

He hung up his own phone and then the bartender, the man they had met before, Paul, handed them three bottles of Bud Light.

"That round's on me."

Alex nodded as thanks and then she grabbed two bottles, bringing one to her lips and walking over to sit down next to Dean. She handed him the other bottle. Sam sat down next.

"Did you get a hold of Cas?"

"I left him a message."

"What's your theory?" asked Alex, pulling her hair back into a low hanging ponytail.

"Why all the demon hits?" asked Sam, also looking to Dean.

Dean shook his head slowly.

"I have no clue. To gank the girl, maybe?"

Sam shook his head.

"What?" asked Dean.

"It's just… These angels are sending these people to do their dirty work. Why?"

"Sam, we're all gonna die. In like, a month. Maybe two. I mean, this is the end of the world and yet, these people aren't freaking out. I don't know that that's such a bad thing after all."

Alex bit her lip and sighed at Dean's pessimistic opinion.

"Who says they're all gonna die? I mean, whatever happened to us saving them?" replied Sam, his face hard.

As Dean lowered his beer from his lips to come back with a retort, a church bell began ringing from somewhere off in the distance. The music was slowly turned down until it was completely off and everyone began leaving the bar in an orderly fashion.

"Paul. What's going on here?" asked Sam.

The bartender shrugged on his own jacket as he answered.

"Leah's had another vision."

He followed the crowd outside and Alex looked between her brothers.

"Wanna go to church, fellas?"

"You know me."

Dean took a swig from his beer while Sam and Alex chuckled.

The three Winchester siblings stood in the back of the church as the pastor and Leah spoke to their townspeople.

"Three miles off Talmege Road…"

Leah grabbed her dad's arm and whispered something into his ear. He straightened up and began again.

"Five miles. There are demons gathered. I don't know how many, but a lot."

He gently put a hand on Leah's back and she walked forward to take a seat in one of the front pews.

"Who's going to join me?" asked the pastor.

He stuck his hands in the front pocket of his jeans.

The man who had used the megaphone earlier, Rob, raised his hand, as did his beautiful redheaded wife.

"We wouldn't miss it," he said.

Paul also raised his hand.

"Someone's gotta cover Rob's ass."

Rob turned to look back at Paul and they exchanged a knowing smirk. Dean raised his hand slightly.

"We're in, Padre."

The pastor nodded towards him.

"Thank you. Now, I'd like to offer a prayer."

He bowed his head, as did everyone else. Alex coughed awkwardly and then bowed her own head, Sam and Dean following her lead.

"Our Father in Heaven…"

"Yeah, not so much," whispered Dean.

Alex rolled her eyes and looked up just in time to see that Paul was not bowing his head in prayer. Rob quickly looked back at his friend, but Paul threw up his hands. She nudged both of her brothers and then nodded in Paul's direction. He removed a flask from his jacket and took a drink from it as the prayer was finished.

As they reached the house where demons were currently residing, Sam and Alex took off one way while Dean and Rob's teenage son took off in another way. Paul, Rob, the pastor, and Rob's wife went in through the front door. As Dean and the son took out one demon, Sam, Alex, and Paul took out three, Sam slashing their throats with Ruby's demon killing knife and Alex shooting them with rock salt. Paul exorcized all of the ones that Sam didn't kill and as Alex struggled with a particularly strong one, she saw that Sam was ready to kill him. She ducked and Sam threw his knife into the demon's back. Alex then pulled it out and used it to stab another demon who was running down the stairs towards her.

Walking away from the house, Sam sighed.

"So I guess that's what it's like, huh?"

"What?" asked Dean.

"Having backup," responded Sam.

Alex rolled her eyes and handed the knife back to Sam. As they were throwing their weapons back into the Impala, Rob's teenage son came running over to them.

"Is it cool if I get a ride back with you guys?" he asked them.

Sam and Alex shrugged and Dean waved to Rob to let him know that he would take his son back. Rob nodded back and the truck pulled away.

"Sure, kid. You've saved my ass twice already today and one more time, you can drive."

The kid smirked and Dean threw cans of beer to both Alex and Sam. As he watched the truck pull completely out of sight, he also threw one to the kid, who looked astonished.

"Don't tell your mom," warned Dean.

"Oh, believe me. I will not."

The kid popped open his can of beer and took a nice long drink. Alex and Sam clinked their cans together in a toast and as they took a drink, Rob's son suddenly began yelling as something pulled him under the Impala.

Dean ran over to him as Sam grabbed the feet of the demon who had pulled him under the car. Sam stabbed her straight in the stomach.

"Dylan!" yelled Dean, pulling him out from underneath the Impala.

Alex's eyes were wide with sadness as Dean pulled Dylan's head onto his lap. It was already too late. Dylan's throat had been sliced open and blood was still pouring from the wound. Alex reached a hand down to feel for his pulse and she sighed when she didn't find one. She shook her head and Dean let out a deflated breath.

"No," he whispered.

The Winchesters watched from the open church doorway as Dylan's casket was placed in the center of the church. They turned around to talk to his parents.

"We're, um, very sorry," said Dean.

"You know, this is your fault," cried Dylan's mother.

"Jane," warned Rob, holding his wife closely to his side.

Her bottom lip trembled as she burst into tears once again. Rob led her into the church as Sam and Alex looked at Dean sadly. They found a seat in the very back pew on the left side of the church. Alex sat in between her brothers. As the pastor spoke, Leah suddenly fell from her spot on the end of one of the very first pews. Her dad knelt down beside her as her body began thrashing around on the floor.

"Leah? Leah, honey?"

After about a minute, she stopped thrashing around and her dad helped her slowly sit up.

"Dad, it's Dylan," she said.

Her dad nodded, but Leah just shook her head.

"No. Dylan's coming back."

Her father helped Leah stand up straight and she stood in the front of the church. She began talking about the angels and how Dylan would be resurrected on the last day of the apocalypse. Paul shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"All we have to do is follow the angel's commandments," finished Leah.

"No drinking, no gambling, no premarital sex," listed off Sam as they left the church after Dylan's funeral was finally over.

"Dean, that's basically 90% of your personality!" said Alex, smirking.

"Yeah, well, whatever."

"So, um, you're cool with all of that?" asked Sam, looking concerned for Dean.

"I'm not… cool. Look, I'm not a prophet. We're not locals. It's not my call."

He looked between both of his siblings' faces and then he nodded.

"I'll catch up with you all later."

He took off back towards the church to meet up with Leah and to talk to her. He found her in her father's office on the main floor of the church building. She was lying on a small couch in her father's office, her eyes closed as she rubbed her temples with her thumbs.

"Is this a really bad time?" he asked her.

Her eyes shot open and she looked over at him. She slowly sat up.

"In general. Now's alright, though."

Dean shut the door to the pastor's office and Leah sat up straight on the couch, plating her feet flat on the floor so that Dean could sit right beside her.

"That angel stuff really takes it out of you, huh?"

Leah shook her head, a small but serene smile on her pretty face.

"I can't really complain. I know that you and your siblings usually have it a lot worse than me."

Dean sat down across from her on the arm of another chair in the office.

"So, what's on your mind, Dean?"

Dean looked down at the floor before looking back to her to answer her question.

"Look, please don't take this the wrong way, but are you on the level?"

"About what?"

"About paradise."

"Well, what about it?"

Dean paused before continuing.

"I want to know what the angels are telling you. Everything."

"Well…"

Leah sighed.

"You can skip the rainbows."

She looked Dean straight in the face, suddenly serious.

"There's going to be a prize fight. And… it's going to get really bad. But after we win, and we will, the planet gets handed over to the chosen ones. It's finally peaceful then. No… monsters, no disease, no death. You're just… with the people whom you love."

"Of course, that's if you can even get past the long velvet rope. It must be nice. Being chosen and all."

Leah looked taken aback.

"Well, Dean… you're chosen."

Dean scoffed and looked down at the red carpeted floor.

"Yeah… More like cursed."

He gave her a small smile and then stood up, heading for the office door.

"Must be hard."

Dean turned slightly around to face Leah.

"Being the vessel of Heaven but having no hope."

Dean looked at her strangely, tiling his head off to the side. Then he reached for the door handle and left her behind as he left her father's office.

Sam opened the door to the bar and held it open using one hand above Alex's head as he ushered Alex inside the bar. Paul looked up as the siblings entered his bar.

"Hey. What happened to 'the apocalypse is good for business' crap?" asked Sam.

Paul smirked jokingly.

"This angel business really cramps my style. You two want to help me kill some inventory?"

Sam and Alex each took a seat on a barstool in front of Paul and nodded. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and began pouring it into glasses.

"Now, don't get me wrong. I grew up here and I seriously love this town. But these holy rollers?"

Alex scoffed while Sam just rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, we, um, noticed that you're not really the praying type, exactly," she remarked.

"Yeah, well, between us three, neither are half of those people. A couple of months ago, they were all in here. Getting wasted, banging whatever. And now they're all warriors of God."

Paul finished pouring himself a glass of whiskey and he held it up.

"Cheers."

He clinked his glass first with Sam's and then with Alex's. They all threw back their glass of Jack Daniel's, Paul grimacing as the burn finally hit his throat after a few more seconds.

"Look, there are demons, sure as hell. And maybe there is a God, fine. But I don't know. I'm just not a hypocrite. I've never prayed before in my life and I'm not starting now. So if I'm going to Hell, at least I'm going honestly."

Alex and Sam both scoffed.

"How about you two? Not true believers, I take it?"

Sam and Alex both sighed as well.

"We believe, yeah. We do. We're just… pretty sure that God stopped caring about all of us a long time ago," answered Sam.

Paul gave them both a long look and then smiled gently.

Dean's eyes opened a little bit to see Alex and Sam walk into the room that they were all currently sharing.

"Where have you two been?" asked Dean, closing his eyes once again.

"Drinking," answered Alex.

Dean smirked.

"You rebels."

"And we would've had more, but it was curfew," remarked Sam.

"Did you hear that they shut down the cell towers?" asked Alex.

She sat on the edge of her bed and watched as Dean opened his eyes fully now, rubbing a hand over his face to wake himself up more.

"No, this is news to me," remarked Dean.

"Yes, now we have no cable, no internet. We're totally cut off from the 'corruption of the outside world.'"

Sam made quotation marks with his fingers as he spoke the last few words of his sentence.

"Huh," said Dean, looking around the room.

Sam stared at him.

"Don't you understand this? They're turning this place into some kind of mentalist compound," said Sam.

Alex rolled her eyes as Dean sighed.

"Oh, no, I get it."

"And all you've got is a 'hmm?' What's wrong with you, Dean?"

"I get it, I just don't really care."

"What?"

Dean threw up his hands.

"I mean, what difference does it actually make?"

"It makes a hell of a lot-"

"Dean, at what point does this become too far for you?" whispered Alex.

"The angels are toying with these people," said Sam, sitting next to Alex and across from Dean on his bed.

"Angel world, angel rules, man," responded Dean.

"Since when is that alright with you?" asked Alex.

Dean stood up from his seat on his bed.

"I mean, who was supposed to come along and save these people? It was supposed to be us, but we can't do it."

"And so what? You want to just roll over, stop fighting? What, man?" asked Sam.

"I don't know, maybe," replied Dean.

He poured himself a cup of hot coffee and drank it as Sam and Alex stared at him sadly.

"Please don't say that," whispered Alex.

"Why not?" asked Dean.

"Because you can't do this!" yelled Sam, shaking his head.

Dean looked over at both of his siblings.

"Actually, I can."

Sam stood up abruptly from his spot on his bed and whirled around to face Dean straight on.

"No, you can't, you can't do this to me."

Sam looked away from his brother's face for a second and then he looked back towards Dean.

"I've got one thing that's keeping me going. Dean, I can't count on anyone else besides you and Alex. And neither one of us can do this alone."

Dean looked down into his now empty coffee cup for a split second. He then set it down on the table behind him and headed for the front door, grabbing his jacket from off of a chair along the way there.

"Dean," called out Alex.

"I need to clear my head," he called out, not turning around to face either one of them as he answered them.

"But it's… past curfew," said Sam, his voice trailing off as Dean left the room then.

The door slammed closed behind his retreating form. Sam sighed.

"It's past curfew," whispered Sam.

Alex nodded and reached up slightly, grabbing Sam's hand that was dangling beside her head. She squeezed it reassuringly and Sam smiled down at her.

Alex watched from her spot on the bed they shared as Sam paced along the floor. She was lying down, facing Sam, but she heard the flutter of wings, Castiel's presence announced to her. Sam stuffed a Holy Bible into his duffel bag resting right beside Alex's head and as he stood up straight, he started suddenly.

"I got your message," said Castiel's deep, gruff voice from behind Alex.

"It was long, your message. You know, Sam, I find the sound of your voice very grating."

"What's wrong with you?" asked Sam, staring over at Castiel very curiously.

Alex rolled over to face Castiel and she sat up once she saw him stumble over his own two feet. She ran a nervous hand through her long, curly, blonde hair.

"Are you… drunk?" asked Alex, wrinkling her nose.

"No!"

Castiel walked forward a few steps, struggling slightly. He rolled his eyes and then spoke once again, sighing as he did so.

"Yes."

"What the hell happened to you?" asked Sam, eyeing Castiel.

"I found a liquor store."

"And?"

"And I drank it. Why'd you call me?"

Castiel stumbled forward even more, so Sam reached out and stopped him from moving any further.

"Whoa, Cas. Are you alright?" he asked his angel friend.

Castiel leaned forward until he was basically whispering into Sam's ear.

"Don't ask really dumb questions."

He stepped away from Sam while Alex chuckled.

"Tell me what you need."

Castiel leaned against a dresser in the room and listened as Sam spoke.

"There have been these demon attacks, massive demon attacks. We can't figure out why-"

"Any sign of angels?" asked Castiel.

"Well, sort of. They've been speaking to this prophet."

"Who?"

"This girl. Leah Gideon?"

"She's not a prophet."

Alex's head snapped up and over to look at Castiel.

"I'm pretty sure she is, Cas. She's got visions, headaches, the whole package deal," said Alex.

"The names of all of the prophets, they're seared directly into my brain. And Leah Gideon is not one of them," said Castiel, looking over at both Sam and Alex.

Sam swallowed hard.

"Then what is she?" he asked.

Alex was sitting in a kitchen chair with one of her legs underneath her butt and another bent up, her knee resting on the very edge of the table. She held a mug of coffee in between her hands as she stared off into space. Sam placed his hands on the back of her chair as he sighed deeply. As Alex bent her head back to look at him, the door of their motel room suddenly opened. Both Alex and Sam looked over as Dean walked inside. Sam let go of the back of Alex's chair and rushed over to Dean.

"We went looking for you last night… Are you alright?" asked Sam, catching the look on his older brother's face.

Alex gasped as she saw the blood all over Dean's palms. She rushed up from her chair and ran over to him, looking him over.

"Yeah, it's… it's not my blood," answered Dean.

"Dean, whose blood is it then?" asked Alex.

Dean took a few more steps, walking farther into the room. He licked his lips once before speaking his next words.

"Paul's dead."

"What?" asked both Sam and Alex together in unison, their eyes wide.

"Jane shot him," answered Dean.

"It's starting," said Castiel, looking over to Sam.

"What's starting? Where the hell have you been?" asked Dean, glaring over at Castiel.

"On a bender!"

Dean looked to Sam and Alex.

"On a-? Did he just say…?"

Alex nodded fervently.

"He's actually still pretty smashed," she chimed in.

Castiel held up a hand.

"That's not of importance. What we need to talk about right now is what's happening here."

Dean shook his head and then began shrugging off his jacket.

"Well, I'm all ears," he replied to Castiel's remark.

"Well, for starters… Leah's not a real prophet," began Sam.

He sat down in the empty place right beside Castiel on the bright red leather couch. Dean turned off the sink water that he was using to wash his hands in and looked back at Sam.

"Well, what is she exactly?"

"The whore," said Castiel.

Dean looked taken aback.

"Wow, Cas. Tell us what you truly think."

"She rises when Lucifer walks the Earth."

Alex pushed a Bible very gently across the kitchen table towards Dean as Castiel read directly from another one in front of him on the coffee table.

"'And she shall come, bearing false prophecy.'"

Castiel pointed to the picture on the next page of his Bible. Dean wiped his hands off with a white hand towel directly beside the sink and then walked over towards Alex, reading over her shoulder.

"This creature has the power to take a human's form, read minds. The book of Revelation calls her-"

"The Whore of Babylon," read Alex, also looking down at the pages of the Bible directly in front of her.

"Well, that's certainly catchy," remarked Dean.

"The real Leah was probably killed months ago," said Sam.

"Then what about the demons attacking the town?" asked Dean, sitting down in a chair directly beside Alex and leaning back into the chair.

"They're under her control," answered Castiel, leaning forward on his elbows.

"And the Enochian exorcism?"

"All fake. It actually means 'You breed with the mouth of a goat.'"

Castiel chuckled while Sam, Alex, and Dean all exchanged looks. Castiel sighed and threw up his hands.

"It's much funnier in Enochian."

"So the demons smoking out, that's just a con? Why? What's the end game?" asked Dean.

"What you just saw. Innocent blood spilled in God's name."

"I mean, you heard all of that Heaven talk. She manipulates people. A classic mean girl, just a bitch," yelled Alex, crossing her arms over her chest.

"She slaughters and kills all while singing peppy little hymns. Awesome," said Dean.

"Her goal is to condemn as many souls to Hell as possible. And it's… really just beginning. She's well on her way to dragging this whole town into the pit," said Castiel, looking over at Dean.

Dean sighed sadly.

"Alright. So, then, how do we go all pimp of Babylon all over this crazy bitch?" asked Dean.

Sam and Castiel exchanged a look while Alex bit her lip nervously. Castiel stood up and then disappeared for a little while. When he returned a few minutes later, he placed a wide and sharp white stick on top of the Holy Bible directly in front of Dean.

"The Whore can be killed with that."

Dean picked up the stake as Castiel continued speaking.

"It's a stake made from a cypress tree in Babylon."

"Great. Let's ventilate her then," remarked Dean, watching Castiel's back as he began washing his hands in the sink.

Once the water had turned off a few seconds later, Castiel turned around with a half-full glass of water in his hands.

"It's not that simple."

Sam took the stake from Dean's hands as Alex rolled her eyes.

"Of course it's not very easy."

"The Whore can only be killed by a true servant of Heaven."

Castiel took a drink from his water glass.

"Servant like-"

"Not you. Or me. Sam, of course, is an abomination and Alex is definitely not one. So, we'll have to find someone else," answered Castiel.

He simply just shrugged his shoulders and drank from his water glass.

A few hours later, Dean was pacing in front of the large glass window in their motel room as Alex stood beside him. Sam was sitting on the couch, but they all looked up as Castiel reappeared into the room, the pastor from the small town directly in tow along with him.

"What the hell was that?" asked the pastor, looking over as Castiel let go of his jacket's sleeve.

"Yeah, he wasn't lying about the being an 'angel of the Lord' thing. Have a seat, Padre, we've got to have a chat," said Dean, raising his eyebrows and indicating for the pastor to take a seat anywhere in the room.

After everything had been explained to him, the pastor shook his head.

"No. She's my daughter."

"I'm really sorry to have to tell you all of this, but she's not your daughter any longer. She's now the thing that killed your daughter," explained Dean.

"But that's impossible."

"But it's true. And deep down, you know it's true, as well," said Sam.

The pastor's eyes welled up with tears as he rubbed a hand over his face and scruffy chin slowly.

"Look, we understand, it's too much to have to bear, but if you don't do this, then she's going to kill a whole lot of people. And then damn all of the rest down to Hell," explained Sam.

"It's just…"

The pastor trailed off as Dean held up the medium-sized stake made from a Babylon cypress tree. The pastor glanced at it very briefly before looking back over at Sam and Alex, who was sitting beside her twin brother.

"Why does it have to be me?" he asked out loud to no one in particular.

"Because you're a servant of Heaven," answered Castiel, his head leaning against a wall.

"And you're an angel of the Lord," shot back the pastor, turning his head around to look over at Castiel.

Castiel stared right back at him.

"A poor example of one, but one nonetheless."

The pastor continued to stare at Castiel until he finally sighed deeply. He ran his hands over the tops of his thighs and nodded.

As Alex shut the trunk of the Impala, she watched as Castiel rubbed his temples with one of his large hands. She reached into the open driver's side window of the Impala and grabbed a small bottle of Advil.

"Heads up."

Castiel looked up just in time for her to send the bottle flying through the air. Castiel caught it effortlessly with one hand and began looking it over.

"So, how many should I take?" he asked her.

He squinted as he tried to read the small print on the bottle. Alex chuckled and raised her eyebrows.

"For you, you should probably just down the whole entire bottle."

Castiel nodded slightly, holding the small bottle of pills in his hands.

"Thanks."

"Hey, don't mention it. We've all been there, Castiel. Trust me, my brothers and I are experts on deadbeat dads. So, I definitely get it. I know exactly how you feel."

Castiel shook his head slowly.

"How do you manage it?"

Alex swallowed before answering.

"On a good day, you get to kill a whore."

Castiel looked over at her and she raised her eyebrows, smirking.

Back in the pastor's office back at the church, Castiel had Leah held to his chest by pinning back her arms. She began yelling as her father rushed towards her. Sam, Dean, and Alex were standing directly behind him.

"Gideon, now!" yelled Sam, as the pastor hesitated to stab his own evil daughter.

As the pastor hesitated, Leah spoke a few quick words of Latin, causing Castiel to yell in pain and release her. She then threw up her hands directly in front of her, palms up, causing her father to fly back into the wall directly behind him. She did the same to the three siblings and then ran from the room. As Castiel writhed around in pain on the floor, the pastor grabbed the stake and ran after his own evil daughter.

"Gideon, no, wait!" yelled Sam, running after him and her as well.

As Gideon ran after Leah, two men blocked his path. One punched him directly in the face, causing the stake to fall from his grasp. As the men continued beating the pastor up, Sam, Dean, and Alex came to his rescue. Sam kicked one man in the face while Dean punched the other man in the face also. A pounding could be heard from the storage room's closet door, so Alex ran over and pushed Jane to the ground since she was blocking the closet's doorway. As Jane's husband got out his lighter to alight the kerosene around the closet door on fire, Sam tackled him into the wall and began repeatedly punching him. As Alex looked over from holding Jane to the ground, she saw Dean being held down by Leah, her hands around his neck. Leah cackled as Dean tried to reach out for the stake.

"Please. Like you're a servant of Heaven. This is why my team's going to win. You're the great vessel? You're just pathetic, self-hating, and faithless. It's the end of the world. And you're just gonna sit back and watch it happen."

As Leah's hands tightened around Dean's throat, Dean finally grabbed a hold of the stake. He hit Leah in the face with it, causing her grip to loosen slightly around his neck. Then he turned it around and stabbed her directly in the stomach.

"Don't be so sure. Whore."

Her grip around his throat loosened completely and Dean threw Leah off of his chest. He dug the stake deeper into her stomach and stepped back, watching as it began to disintegrate in front of his very eyes. Everyone had stopped fighting and the pounding on the storage closet door had also discontinued as Leah began seizing as she died. Finally, the stake completely disappeared from her chest area and Leah was officially dead. A sizzling could be heard coming from her stomach as she remained completely motionless on the hard and cold basement tile floor.

"But… I don't understand. How are we supposed to get to paradise now?" remarked Jane, looking over at Leah's dead body.

Dean glanced at Leah's body before looking over at Jane's weary expression.

"Well, I'm sorry. But I'm pretty sure that you're headed into a very different direction."

Sam helped the pastor stand up from his crouched position on the floor. The three siblings exchanged a glance and then looked at Leah's body before them like everyone else was currently doing.

Alex walked behind her brothers as they carried Castiel and the pastor out of the church. Sam glanced over at his older brother.

"Dean. How did you manage to do that?"

"What?"

"Kill her."

"Well, a long run of luck for her ran out, I guess."

"Last time I checked, she could only be killed by a servant of Heaven," remarked Alex.

"Well, what do you want me to tell you all, huh? Look, I saw our only shot and I went for it," explained Dean.

Alex watched as her brothers loaded the two heavily injured men into their Impala's backseat. Sam glanced over at Dean over the hood of the Impala before they climbed into the Impala.

"Are you going to do something very stupid?" asked Sam.

"Like what?" asked Dean, his eyes wide and his eyebrows pulling together with confusion.

"Like Michael stupid!" yelled Sam.

Dean's confusion turned into a glare of anger as he pulled open his car door.

"Come on, Sam. Give me a break."

He climbed into the car first, starting it up. Alex climbed into the middle of the front seat next and then Sam was the last to climb inside. He shut his passenger side door and they were all off.

Back at their motel, Castiel was lying on one uncomfortable motel room bed while Sam and Alex wrapped some bandages around the pastor's wrists. Dean headed for the door and Sam's head shot up.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked Dean.

Dean chuckled.

"I'm going to grab some more clean bandages out of the Impala's trunk. Relax."

Sam and Alex both nodded and they listened as they heard a door slam closed. As soon as the roar of the Impala's engine started up, Sam ran for the door, yelling Dean's name.

"Dean! Dean!"

But Dean just pulled out of the motel's front parking lot, Alex standing in the doorway watching as Sam threw his hands up with frustration and Dean's car rounded the corner and was immediately gone from their view. Sam ran his hands through his hair.

Dean drove all night and most of the early morning, but he finally made it to Lisa's house by the late morning. He knocked on her front door and then waited only a few seconds for her to pull her front door wide open, revealing him standing on her front porcj.

"Dean," stated Lisa, looking none-too pleased.

Dean smiled at her.

"Hi, Lisa."

They stood in an awkward silence for almost a full minute, each of them just staring at one another. Finally, Dean broke the awkward silence, slightly explaining why he was there.

"Well, I didn't have your number, so…"

"Oh, no, that's alright. I'm just surprised, that's all."

Dean smirked slightly.

"How's Ben?"

Lisa looked Dean quickly over once before nodding slightly.

"Great. Good. He's at baseball."

Dean nodded and then looked at the doorframe.

"I see that you moved. This is a really nice house."

Dean shoved his hands into the pockets of his brown leather jacket.

"Dean, you didn't come all the way here just to talk about real estate. So, are you alright?"

Dean looked away from her face and down at the floor, smirking. His smirk faded after only a few seconds before he completely answered her.

"No, not really."

Lisa looked him over once again.

"Well, what is it?"

Dean finally looked up to face her beautiful bright and shining face.

"Look, I have no illusions, alright? I know that the life that I live…"

Dean took in a very deep breath before speaking once more.

"I know how that's going to end for me. Whatever, I'm alright with that. But I just wanted you to know that when I do picture myself happy…"

Dean took in another deep breath to gain some courage before speaking once more, his final proclamation.

"It's with you. And the kid."

Dean smiled sadly and then looked back down at the ground so that Lisa couldn't see his eyes welling up full of tears. She gave him a serene, but sad smile.

"Wow," said Lisa.

"Lisa, you don't have to say anything at all."

"No. I mean, I know. I want to. Come inside and let me get you a beer."

Lisa turned away and headed for her kitchen, but Dean's voice stopped her.

"I wish that I could, I really do."

Her head whipped back around, her bright white smile fading quickly with his words. She looked very confused.

"Take care of yourself, Lisa."

Dean turned away, but Lisa ran out onto the front porch and grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"No, no, wait, wait. You can't just drop a bombshell like that and then leave."

Dean turned back around, his jaw clenched. He nodded sadly.

"I know. And I'm really truly sorry about all of this. But I don't have any choices here."

"Yes, you do. You do. You can come inside and let me get you a beer and then we can talk."

Lisa began heading for the interior of her house, but Dean reached out and gently grabbed her left arm in his grip. He turned her around to face him and she looked up at him, apprehension awash all over her beautiful features.

"Things are about to get really, really bad."

Lisa pulled her arm away from his grip and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Like how? Like your kind of bad?"

She eyed him carefully, giving him the onceover glare.

"Even worse. But I don't want you to worry because I'm making arrangements for you and Ben."

Lisa then looked startled and alarmed at his declaration.

"Arrangements?" she questioned.

"Whatever happens, you're going to be alright."

"What do you mean, what are you talking about?"

"The people that I'm going to see next, they're not going to get anything from me without agreeing to a few conditions."

Lisa shook her head twice. She smiled sadly once again.

"Just… just come inside. Please. And whatever you're thinking of doing right now, please don't do it."

She reached up and grabbed his hands, holding them in her palms. Dean looked down at their hands intertwined against his chest and rubbed his thumbs over her soft hands. He looked into her beautiful, ageless face.

"I have to do this."

"Just stay an hour, please. You could at least say goodbye to Ben."

Lisa's eyes were welling up with unshed tears. Dean looked down at the floor, smiling sadly before looking back up into her perfect face.

"Nah, it's really much better if I don't say goodbye to him."

Lisa nodded her head sadly and as one tear fell from the corner of her left eye, Dean leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. Her eyes closed as he did this, but then they opened once again as he removed his soft lips from her gentle cheek.

"Goodbye, Lisa."

As her lone tear trailed down her face, Lisa watched as Dean walked away from her life once again. She stood on her front porch, looking very dejected, let down, and depressed as Dean climbed into his Impala and drove off down her neighborhood street, his heart with her and Ben and her heart with him in his Impala.