Desolation Comes Upon the Sky

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May 5th, 2014

Lebanon, Kansas

The bunker door slammed closed, announcing the arrival of Sam and Dean Winchester, and Alex stirred at the sound. She was laying on her side, tucked softly into Castiel's warm, sturdy chest. She lifted her head, grace stretching out in search of the brothers, and Castiel shifted behind her. His heavy arm resting across her stomach drew her in closer, and the seraph let out a low, pained groan.

"How are you feeling?" Alex leaned her head back, and the seraph's lips came to rest against her neck for a brief moment. She hummed in delight, grace reaching back to curl around his.

"I'm healing," Castiel finally rumbled out. "Not as fast as I wished, but I have improved." His fingers moved, tracing the outline of her own bandage, and he asked, "And you?"

"I'm fine." Alex rolled over and sat up, running a hand through her messy blonde hair. "Oh!" She looked around the room, and a grin spread across her face. "You've never been here before." She tossed back the covers and stood up, pulling on a black and white plaid shirt over her white tee and sweatpants. "Come on. I have to show you the bunker. This place is sick — awesome," she corrected before Castiel could question her phrasing.

The seraph slowly rose to his feet. "I remember you mentioned the Men of Letters bunker," he recalled. "You were quite excited about it."

"You bet I was." Alex walked over to Castiel and took his hand, leading him out into the hallway. "Come on. Let's go find the Winchesters, and then I'll give you the grand tour."

She could feel the Winchesters in the library, so she took him the long way around towards the kitchen. "There's an upstairs and a downstairs," she explained, pointing towards the two staircases. "Upstairs is my favorite. We have a gym and a sparring area. And downstairs there's a shooting range," she added, tugging him along. "This floor is mostly bedrooms, some archives, and the kitchen. Ooh and the library." They stepped out into the library to find Sam seated at the war room table. "Morning," she called, and the younger Winchester looked up.

"Morning," Castiel echoed, and Alex frowned when Dean brushed past them without a word and disappeared off towards the kitchen. "I like this bunker," Castiel continued, but Alex could see the hurt in his eyes at Dean's cold shoulder. "It's orderly."

Sam chuckled. "Oh, give us a few months. Dean and Alex want to get a ping pong table."

"Damn straight we do," Alex quipped. She moved down to lean against the chair across from Sam. The table was covered with Men of Letters archives.

Castiel followed. "I've heard of that. It's a game, right?" He let out a groan of pain, leaning against a metal chair for support, and Alex stretched out a worried wing.

Sam looked up in concern. "Are you okay?"

"My wound isn't healing as quickly as I'd hope," the seraph admitted, "but I am getting better. And you're getting worse," he added with a deep frown.

The Winchester shrugged. "Well, two trials down, one to go." His eyes dried down to the folders piled in front of him.

"And the final test, do you — do you know what it is?" Castiel pressed.

Sam nodded, and Alex answered, "Sure do. We have to cure a demon." She watched as her mate's face twisted in confusion. "Yeah, I know," she agreed. "It's weird. And I don't think we know how to do that yet, right?" she added to Sam.

"Right," the Winchester agreed, and he motioned to the mass of folders that lay in front of him. "So that's why we're looking through every file the Men of Letters have on demonic possession. All three hundred years worth."