Appendix E

Section F

Alex, Age 18

Connection

Dean couldn't sleep. And it wasn't because the crappy motel they had crashed at outside of Des Moines had scratchy sheets that smelled of bleach and… something else. He had learned over the years not to try and identify the "something else."

It wasn't necessarily emotional, either. He wasn't anxious or upset or angry. His mind wasn't buzzing, there were no outside influences grinding on his nerves, nothing.

He was just… wondering.

He turned his head on his pillow, peering through the darkness at the vague lump that was his brother in the adjacent bed. As best he could tell, Sam was sound asleep.

Carefully, quietly, Dean snuck out from under the covers, which was difficult because they felt and sounded as if they were made from a fire-retardant tarp. But he managed the feat, snagged his phone, and slipped into the motel hallway, gently pulling the door shut behind him.

Outside, he walked down the hall a little ways as he opened the "Recents" in his phone. He actually had to scroll a little to find Alex's name, which struck him as odd. Then he realized, Guess I didn't have to call her very often because she was always around.

He went to tap Alex's contact, but hesitated. It seemed a little ridiculous to call her late at night for no real reason, especially since it had only been about six hours since they had left the university.

"Aaahh," he growled irritably, and tapped to call.

He waited as the phone rang, shaking his head at his own impulsive behavior. But as he waited, he started to feel concern edge in. It was taking her a long time to answer the phone. Either she was dead asleep, or… dead. He tried to shirk this thought, knowing it was an overreaction, but he couldn't help assessing absolutely every single thing that had ever happened his entire life and acknowledge that coming to this conclusion was not that big of a leap.

"Hey! Is everything okay?" Alex's hushed voice suddenly popped on.

Dean forced himself not to let loose a gusty sigh of relief into the receiver and trip the phone's mic. "Yeah, everything's fine! I just thought I'd call to see how you were settling in. Are you okay? Took you a minute to answer."

"Yeah," replied Alex. "Jenna's asleep, so I wanted to go out into the hall before picking up. Thank God my phone was on vibrate." She snickered.

"Makes sense," said Dean. "So you're all good? Nothing crazy happen?"

"No," Alex answered. "I mean it's all crazy. So weird being here just me and a bunch of people I don't really know. But it's been good. Jenna and I talked a bunch. Like, a ton."

"Oh, yeah?" Dean leaned against the wall as he listened.

"Yeah. She is a talker! After we finished decorating, we went and got dinner, and she talked the entire time. I'm not really sure when she ate. I don't remember her talking with food in her mouth, so it's a mystery to me.

"Oh my God—Dad! So you know how she was out in the parking lot with us for about ten seconds? And she didn't really look at the car?"

"Weird detail, but I'm assuming you're going somewhere with this."

"We got to talking about cars this evening, and I mentioned the Impala, and she figured out it's a '67 from remembering Baby's back bumper!"

"What? How?"

"Apparently she's into cars! Or her dad was and made her learn about them. Though from the look on her face when she realized what kind of Impala we're riding around in, I think she's honestly into cars, too. She says she can take apart an engine and put it back together."

"Okay, we're still talking about your roommate, right? That tiny, spunky, shoe-in cheerleader we met this afternoon?"

"YUP."

"Wow."

"I know, I can't picture it either. But I believe her. She talks about it in a way that you can tell she actually knows what she's going on about."

"Well, how 'bout that. Your roommate learned about cars from her dad just like you did from your old man."

"No, not at all like I did."

"How's that?"

The line went silent for a moment.

"Jenna was kind of forced into it. 'Cause her dad wanted boys and got girls."

Dean's face pinched briefly, taken aback. "She thinks her dad wanted boys?"

"Oh, she doesn't think it. He told her. And her sister. Maybe even a few times. Or all the time, I don't know. But she told me that he would tell them exactly that."

Dean grimaced. "Oh my God."

"Yeah, her parents sound pretty awful. Her mom's a piece of work, too. You wouldn't believe what she said to Jenna before they left her here. I don't even want to repeat it."

"Poor kid."

"I know. I kinda want to wrap her up and take her home with me."

Dean chuckled. "Your Uncle Sam would have an aneurism."

"Don't say that! That makes me want to do it even more just to see his face!"

"Honestly, I kind of want to see that, too. That was absolutely hilarious when we were there." Dean pitched his voice higher. "'Get that box, big, strong man!'"

"And then you; 'It's hot out! Take your shirt off!'"

The both of them had to muffle their laughter to avoid their voices echoing in their respective hallways and disturbing the sleepers beyond the doors.

Finally Alex sighed. "Man, am I glad to be a Winchester."

"Really?" Dean couldn't quite believe what she had just said.

"Yeah."

"That is not something you hear every day."

"I mean it, though. I could have grown up with parents like Jenna's, or a whole string of parents like Jenna's. I'm really lucky to have you and Uncle Sam. This entire family would literally climb in and out of Hell for each other. Jenna's parents won't even come to pick her up on breaks."

Dean couldn't speak for a moment; there were too many thoughts and feelings bouncing off the inside of his skull. While he felt joy and affection, mostly he felt relief. Faced with an arguably more commonplace type of family dysfunction—something that came with a lot less physical pain, bloodshed, and death—his daughter was glad of her decision to live with him and Sam. All the times she could have died, all the times he and Sam did die, all the turmoil and danger and grief… and she'd still opt for the love they gave her over anything else. And knowing that, he would never doubt bringing her home from the funeral ten years ago.

They had made the right choice.

"Well…," Dean said, speaking quietly in an attempt to keep his voice from faltering, "we're glad you're a Winchester, too. Our messed up little family wouldn't be complete without you."

There came another moment where the line was empty.

"I'm going to miss you," said Alex.

"Yeah, me, too, baby girl," replied Dean.

"Hang on, I just got a text... Oh my God, it's Uncle Sam!" Alex laughed.

"You're kidding!"

"'Hope you had fun with your new roommate this evening. Call if you need anything.' Oh my God, this is exactly what threw Jenna for a loop tonight! You're both a couple of undercover saps and I love it!"

That made Dean bark a laugh louder than he should have in the hallway.

"Hang on, let me text him back…." The sound of Alex's soft, slightly evil chuckle came over the line.

"You are ratting me out, aren't you?"

"Sorry, can't hear you while I'm typing; you're not on speaker."

"Uh-huh," Dean shook his head with a wide grin on his face.

"Holy crap, I can't believe it's almost midnight."

"Yeah, I'd better let you go. I'm sure you've got a lot going on tomorrow."

"Yeah, for sure. It's going to be insane."

"All right, Alex, have a good night."

"You, too. Love you!"

"Love you, too."

Dean hung up the phone, leaned his head back against the sheetrock, and took a long breath. Then he popped off the wall and headed back to the room, preparing to relentlessly tease his little brother, and bracing himself to get just as good as he gave.

A/N: There we are; Alex is officially a college kid! Nice, soft landing for this appendix, with juuuuust a dash of throwback and foreshadowing.

And of course there's no end in sight. I mean… we've got four years of college still to go, right?