Chapter One

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"The hell are you laughing at Carrie?"

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"The hell are you laughing at Carrie?"

"The hell are you laughing at Carrie?"

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

One Month Later.
Kicking the dirt over the hole I buried in the middle of the beaten dirt street I spin around and scream with such ferocity my voice splinters "CROWLEY!" I see nothing. All I do is gaze around searching amongst the darkness seeping through the Iowa trees. No cars, no houses, no people. Nothing for miles and apparently no Crossroads Demon. Only me and my tail spinning emotions.

"Ooh, house call and a first-name basis", snapping my gaze behind me Crowley wanders over looking as smug as when I saw him last year "Perhaps buy a Demon a drink before we take things further."

I'm not laughing. I'm not cracking anything close to a smirk. Flipping around the iron dagger on my fingers, I threaten "I want you to bring Dean back. And I want him now."

Hands stuffed into his black trench coat, Crowley chuckles "Otherwise you're going to kill me with that pig-sticker?" Scoffing when I hard stare him, Crowley steps closer to me "Please Alexander. I expected you to know better or at least play a little hardball with me." Remaining stubbornly silent I restrain myself from lashing out. Yet I can feel my composure cracking under Crowley's expectant stare. Not because I'm intimidated... no. Because I simply don't have any more self-restraint to keep myself in check. Normally I have Sam or Dean watching over my shoulders to keep me from doing anything irrational.

Now I don't have either.

Sam stuck around for a while after we buried Dean's body in Iowa. We need time to find a solution- to bring Dean back- and if we burn his body there won't be any coming back. No resurrections, no dragging out of Hell or cast spells. Dean would be permanently gone and neither Sam nor I are prepared to deal with that certainty yet. Things grew quiet for weeks between us and for a time we leaned on each other because we needed to- I certainly did. I'd believed when it came down to the wire we'd save Dean. I wanted desperately for us to pull one last Hail-Mary from our hat. To beat the odds one last time. I suppose that'd been too much to hope for.

Now... now there's just the aftermath of Dean's death.

Sam's gone. He took the Demon knife and parted ways with me a week or so ago. Sam told me he'd search on his own. That he didn't want me around because 'every time I see you... there is my best friend who my brother fell in love with' and that was enough for him to take the Impala and skip not just town but the entire state. I became too painful of a reminder to keep around so regretfully I stepped aside and let him venture off alone. Four became three, which then become two, and sooner than I ever wanted I was left alone, numb and shocked. Seeing the way Dean had been torn into by the Hell Hound is a nightmare I still can't get out of my head one month later. The bloodied gore, the howling scream, his lifeless eyes. My exhaustion isn't helping how strung out my feelings are. I fear to fall asleep so much that I occasionally go days until I eventually pass out from the fatigue I plague my body with. I'd do anything to avoid those dreams; hearing his horrific screams.

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