Sioux Falls, South Dakota
It was more than a two months after the accident. Bobby had been fairly worried, but she had recovered well, and by the end of week two, her movements were almost completely back to normal, and Bobby had taken out the fishing-line stitching, which had admittedly stung very much.
Sam and Dean didn't stopped by during those whole two months, so Alex was stuck there. Once she was back on her feet, she'd walk down block to the grassy hill. There she'd sit there for hours, staring up at the sky.
One time, when she was sitting by herself, Castiel appeared. Alex looked up. "Oh, hey Cas. Uh, what's up?"
"Nothing." Castiel looked down at her. "Where are Sam and Dean?"
Alex shrugged. "Dunno. Hunting, I suppose."
"And you're not with them?" The angel tipped his head to one side.
"No. I got hurt, so I've been on the sidelines the past couple weeks." Alex shrugged.
Castiel sat down beside her. "What happened?"
"Werewolf." Alex lifted her shirt to show him the scar that ran from her ribs down to her hip.
Castiel frowned. He reached out, running rough fingers over it. "I'm sorry."
Alex felt a slight warmth trickle through her side, and she pushed Castiel away. "Dude, seriously? Don't waste your mojo on me. I'm gonna live."
Castiel tipped his head in confusion, but politely dropped his hand. Satisfied, Alex turned her gaze back out over the field, watching the clouds in the sky.
"What are you doing?"
Alex shrugged. "I come here everyday. I just sit here thinking."
"Hm."
"What are you doing here?" Alex finally asked. "I thought you'd be busy."
Castiel shook his head. "I was sitting quietly in a park. Nothing more." They lapsed into silence.
...
One morning, Alex was awoken by a knock on her bedroom door. "Get up," she heard Bobby say.
"What do you want?" she groaned, rolling to her feet.
"Dean called." Alex heard retreating footsteps, telling her that Bobby had disappeared back downstairs.
Alex stumbled out of bed and made her way downstairs, wincing at the cold wooden floors. She stepped into the study to see her phone sitting on the desk. She picked it up. One missed call. Dean. She called him. He answered. "Hello?"
"Dean-o."
"Alex. Good. Why didn't you answer?"
"I was asleep." Alex rolled her eyes. "What's up?"
"Have you ever heard of Adam Milligan?"
"Maybe." Alex shrugged. "Who's he?"
"Uh, I don't know. He, uh, he claims that he's John Winchester's son."
"Oh." Alex let out a breath. "Yes, I do know of an Adam."
"And, uh, is he our, uh, brother?"
"As far as I know, probably. The show doesn't specifically say either way," Alex lied.
"We'll be there in a few hours." Then Dean hung up, voice tense.
Alex sighed, deciding to eat breakfast.
"What'd Dean want?" Bobby was sitting in the kitchen, flipping through an old book. "He and Sam okay?"
"Yeah, they're fine." Alex sank into the chair across from him. "Are those two always that rude, or is it just me?"
Bobby glanced up for half a second. "Rude?" he repeated. "They're hunters. You don't stay alive by singin' kumbaya."
Alex huffed. "Yeah, I guess not."
Seeing the girl's silence, Bobby added, "Listen. I know they seem a little more abrasive than most people, but that doesn't mean they don't like you, alright? They just got different ways of showing it."
Alex smiled. "Yeah. Thanks, Bobby."
"Yup." The old hunter picked up his book and walked away. Alex watched him go, shaking her head. That guy was strange, but somehow always knew what to say. She got up to make breakfast.
...
It was ten o'clock when Sam and Dean pulled up in the ever familiar black Impala. They came in through the back door, exchanged greetings with Bobby, then grabbed a beer out of the fridge.
"So Adam called you?" Alex asked after they had settled down in the study.
"He called one of dad's cells," Dean explained.
"Hm," Alex mused. "Obviously."
"So what do we do?" Sam looked up from his laptop, which had been demanding his attention for the past several minutes.
Alex turned to look at Sam, blinking slowly. "We should go see him."
"We can't go see him," Dean snapped. "It's a trap."
"I don't think it's a trap."
"It's a trap."
"Dean, it's not a trap. As far as I can remember, this guy's legit."
"She's right, Dean," Sam nodded. "I've been checking him out." He motioned to his laptop. "This guy is 'legit'."
"Fine." Dean sighed, then pulled out a cellphone. He stood up and left the room. A few seconds later, she heard him talking to someone. Several minutes later, he returned. "I called Adam. He lives in Windom, Minnesota, and we're to meet him at the Cousin Oliver's Hilltop Cafe."
...
October 10th, 2009
Windom, Minnesota
Alex grabbed her packed bag, and they were off. It was a two hour drive to Windom. They checked into a motel and arrived at the diner just in time for lunch. Dean parked the car, and they got out. "Dean, as best as I can tell, Adam Milligan is real," Sam argued, opening the folder he had compiled while still at Bobby's.
Dean didn't respond, but circled back to the trunk. He opened the weapon's box, pawing through everything.
"Um, born September 29, 1990, to Kate Milligan. No father listed on the birth certificate. He's an Eagle Scout. Graduated from high school with honors and currently goes to University of Wisconsin. Biology major, pre med."
Alex watched Dean pull several items out. He put them in his jacket, then closed the trunk.
"Dean, are you even listening?"
"This is a trap," Dean said decisively. He walked off towards the diner. Alex and Sam exchanged glances, and Sam sighed, closing the folder. They followed.
They entered the diner, and Dean paused, looking around. He led them over to the left corner where there was a table with four chairs. He and Sam sat on one side. Alex groaned. "Great. So I get to sit on the side with the monster. Thanks a lot."
"He's not a monster," Sam retorted. "The kid checks out."
Alex sat down on the inner chair. "I know Sammy. Adam Milligan is real."
Dean ignored them. "Great. So he's an actual person on planet Earth. Too bad he's got a demon in him." Alex just rolled her eyes.
A waitress approached their table, carrying waters and menus. "Hi. Welcome to Cousin Oliver's Hilltop Cafe."
"Thanks."
"Can I--"
"We're actually waiting on someone," Dean cut her off.
The waitress paused, her face growing annoyed. She slapped down the menus in front of them and stalked off into the back.
"Thanks," Alex muttered after her. Sam slapped down his menu again in frustration. Alex watched as Dean took his glass of water and proceeded to pour it into the plant behind it. "That's a fake plant--"
"What are you--" Sam said at the same time.
Dean put the glass on his lap.
"Holy water." Sam nodded.
"Yup." Dean put the glass back on the table at the empty spot. "One sip of Jesus juice, this evil bitch is going to be in a world of hurt."
The waitress walked past, and they lowered their voices. Then she was gone. Dean pulled something out of his jacket.
"And what is he's not possessed?"
"Then he's a shapeshifter." Dean took the silverware from the empty spot and replaced it with his own set.
"Hence the silver," Sam sighed.
"We have silver silverware in the trunk?" Alex asked. "Didn't know that one. And you still make me use plastic forks."
Dean ignored her. "Look. Either way, this thing is going to bleed. I mean, using Dad as bait? That's the last mistake of its short, pitiful life." Dean looked over at Sam to see him frowning. "What?" Sam looked away, and Dean repeated himself. "What?"
"Dean, listen." Sam opened the brown leather journal he had brought in with him. Alex knew it was John Winchester's. "There's an entry in Dad's journal." He flipped through several pages. "From January 1990, saying he's headed to Minnesota to check out a case. That's roughly, oh, nine months before the kid was born."
"Coincidence," Dean huffed.
"Coincidence," Sam repeated unbelievingly. "Next two pages of the journal? Torn out." He motioned to where the remains of two pages were in the journal.
"Look, you're not actually buying into this, are you?"
"Look man, I'm not saying I want to believe it either. I'm just saying it's possible." Sam waved the journal for emphasis. Alex nodded in agreement, and he continued. "I mean, Dad would be gone for weeks at at time, and he wasn't exactly a monk. I mean, a hunter rolls into town, kills a monster, saves a girl . . . sometimes the girl is grateful."
"Great," Dean snapped. "Now you've got me thinking about Dad sex. Stop talking." Alex snickered in amusement.
"Maybe he slipped one past the goalie," Sam added.
Dean roughly nudged his brother. "Dude!"
The door opened, causing all three to look up. A young man had walked into the cafe, no more then twenty years of age. He was wearing a large tan jacket over a black t-shirt.
"Adam?" Sam asked. The man turned, and Alex studied his face. Messy brown hair covered his blue eyes, which nervously flickered over them.
He approached. "Are you Sam?"
"Yeah. This is Dean, and that's Alex." Sam pointed to each of them in turn. Alex smiled.
"Hey." Adam set his black backpack on the floor and sat down next to Alex. "So, um, how did you know my dad?" he asked nervously. The door chimed again, and Alex glanced back to see an old man enter.
"Uh, we worked together," Sam partially lied.
"How did he die?" Adam's face was one of slight confusion and curiosity.
"On the job."
"He was a mechanic, right?" Adam glanced over at Dean.
"A car fell on him," Dean said shortly. Alex held back a chuckle at the thought.
The waitress approached again. This time Alex noticed her name tag said Denise. "Hey Adam," she smiled. "How are you doing?" She put a glass of water in front of him.
Adam reached for it, but Dean grabbed it first. "Oh, I'll take that," he said. "I"m very thirsty." He took a sip. Sam frowned at him, and Denise looked very much displeased.
She turned back to Adam. "The usual, Adam?"
"Uh, yeah. Thanks Denise." Adam watched her leave, then took the glass of water filled with holy water. He took a sip. Nothing happened. Dean let out a frustrated breath.
"So, uh, when's the last time you saw John?" Sam asked.
"I don't even know. It's -- a couple years."
"Why did you decide to call him now?"
"I didn't know who else to call," Adam admitted. "He's the only family I got. My mom's missing," he explained when Sam didn't appear to follow.
"Really? I'm sorry. For how long?"
"It's tragic, really," Dean agreed. "But, uh, if you're John's kid, how come we've never heard of you?"
"Cause John and me didn't really know each other. Not until a few years ago, anyways."
"What do you mean?"
"My mom never talked about him. I knew some stuff."
"What kind of stuff?"
"My mom's a nurse, and Dad came into the ER pretty torn up. Hunting accident or something, And I knew his name. John Winchester. That's about it. We're not exactly a nuclear family."
"Yeah, well, who is these days?" Sam sighed.
"So, when, uh, when did you finally meet him?" Dean asked, voice tense.
"When I was twelve. My mom had one of his old numbers, and after I begged her -- God, I begged her twenty-four-seven -- she finally called him. God, when John heard he had a son, he raced to town. I mean, he dropped everything. He drove all night." Adam seemed genuinely happy.
Alex's heart twisted when she saw Sam and Dean. The weren't showing it, but she could see the pain behind their faces.
Denise returned, putting down a salad in front of Adam. "Here you go."
"Thanks."
"Well, that's . . . heartwarming," Dean said with false sweetness.
Adam nodded. He pointed to his food. "You mind?"
"Please. Dig in."
Adam removed the napkin from underneath the silverware without even touching it, and Alex heard the quiet, yet familiar sound of a gun being cocked. She tensed, looking over at Dean. His hands were under the table.
"He would swing by every year or so," Adam continued, unaware of the gun beneath the table. He picked up the knife and fork. Alex let out a quiet breath. He wasn't a shifter either. Dean glanced away, his shoulders relaxing.
"You know, he called when he could. But still . . ." Adam took a bite. "He taught me poker and pool and even bought me my first beer when I was fifteen. And, uh . . . he showed me how to drive. He had this beautiful '67 Impala--"
"Oh, this is crap, "Dean snapped. "You know what, you're lying."
"No I'm not." Adam seemed shocked by his outburst.
"Yes, you are."
"I'm sorry, but you the hell are you to call me a liar?"
"We're John Winchester's sons, that's who." Dean said, motioning to himself and Sam. "We are his sons."
"Oh my god," Adam breathed out. "I have brothers." He turned to Alex. "Are you my sister?"
"No. Nope. Not related." Alex shook her head.
"You don't have brothers," Dean snapped. "Look man, I don't know if your a hunter or what kind of game you're playing here . . ."
"I've never been hunting in my life." Adam seemed puzzled.
"Whatever. I'm out of here. Come on, Sam." Dean stood up to leave.
"Wait!" Adam stopped them. "I can prove it."
"Can you now?" Dean turned back to face him. "Fine. You do that."
"Follow me." Adam led them out of the diner and into the parking lot. He passed the Impala and hesitated.
"Don't touch my car," Dean growled, stepping in between them.
Adam looked up at Dean, but did as he said. He got into his Ford truck and drove away.
The three of them got into the Impala and followed.
...
They drove for five minutes before Adam pulled into a small, two story blue house. Dean parked on the street, and they got out. Adam ushered them inside, and disappeared into the living room. He came back holding a picture frame. "Here. This was when John took me to a baseball game." He handed it to Dean. Sam looked over at it.
"He took you to a baseball game?" Dean asked. Alex studied it. She recognized John; he was wearing a baseball cap, arm around a young boy who Alex realized was a younger Adam.
"Yeah. When I turned fourteen. Dad was around for a few of my birthdays."
Sam opened John's journal, flipping through a few of the pages. "September 29, 2004. One word. 'Minnesota'."
"He took you to a freakin' baseball game?" Dean repeated quietly.
"Yeah. What'd Dad with you for your birthdays?" Adam took back the picture and turned around.
"Oh . . ." Dean left it at that, voice starting to shake. Alex leaned against Dean shoulder, offering slight comfort in her touch. She sighed.
"Adam, you said you called Dad because your mom's missing?" Sam changed the subject.
"Yeah."
"How long has she been gone?"
"Three days."
"Who was the last person to see her?" Dean asked.
"Mr. Abbernard, our neighbor. He saw her come home Tuesday night, but never showed up to work on Wednesday."
"Did you call the police?" Alex asked.
"Mom's superior at the hospital did. And then I drove down here as fast as I could." He paused. "I should have been here."
"What'd, uh, what'd the cops say?"
"That they'd, they'd searched the house. They didn't find anything." He paused again. "She wouldn't just leave without telling anybody. It's like she just dropped off the face of the Earth, you know?"
Sam nodded sympathetically. "Was there anything strange? Out of place?"
"The, uh, the nightstand in her room was knocked over." Adam turned and walked deeper into the house. "I'll show you." He led them up the stairs and down the hall, and then into the master bedroom. Alex and Dean immediately began looking around.
"Hey, do you have a computer?" Sam asked.
"Yeah. Downstairs."
Sam nodded, and left.
Dean shifted the dresser. Finding nothing, he turned back to Adam, who was sitting on the bed. "The nightstand was knocked over," Dean repeated. "Anything else?"
"Oh, not really. The sheriff said there was no sign of a break-in." He watched Dean glance around. "What, do you think the cops missed something?"
"Maybe, yeah," Dean nodded. "They don't have my eyes."
"You're a mechanic."
"Yeah, that's right."
Adam sat quietly, then asked, "Dean, what else can you tell me about Dad?
"You knew him." Dean made no eye contact.
"Not as well as you."
"Trust me, kid, you don't want to know."
Sam entered, holding up a handful of papers, and Dean paused. "Give us a minute." He left the room, and Alex followed.
"You talk to the cops?" Dean asked quietly.
"Yeah. Like Adam said, no leads on his mom."
"Shocker there."
"But I did find this." Sam handed him a piece of paper. It was a a copy of the local paper from 1990. It's title was Missing Bodies Found. "Here. In 1990, there were seventeen grave robberies in Windom."
"You think that's why Dad came up here?"
"I'd say so. Check it out."
Dean took the paper, and Sam pointed to the picture that accompanied the article.
"All right, so he was hunting something."
Alex squinted at the picture. One of the people did look like John Winchester.
"But what?" Dean continued.
"No idea. Those were the pages torn out of the journal. But last month, the body snatching started up again. Three bodies from the local cemetery."
"So whatever he was after didn't die. It's back."
"And what, it's stepped up it's game to fresh meat? I mean, Kate's missing, and uh . . ." Sam handed them another paper. "So is a local bartender. A guy named Joe Barton." Dean took the photo and went back into the bedroom.
Sam started to follow, but Alex stopped him. "Body snatching? Sounds like a ghoul, right?"
Sam nodded. "I guess, but ghouls don't eat living victims. They're scavengers. I'd say we're probably dealing with something else."
"Hm." Alex let him go back into the room.
"Uh, I don't think so," Adam was saying. "Why?"
Dean didn't respond, but glanced back at Sam, then down at the floor. He stopped. Suddenly he knelt down examining it for a closer look.
"What is it?" Adam asked, following his gaze.
"Watch out." Dean started moving the bed, and Adam got up. He threw back the comforter to look under the bed, then straightened up. "Help me with the bed."
Sam hurried over, and they dragged the bed away from the wall. On the wall, there was a large vent, large enough for a small person to get through.
Sam and Dean exchanged glances, and Dean held up his fists for a quick match of rock-paper-scissors. Sam shook his head. "Alex can do it. She's small enough."
"What?" Alex snapped. "I'm not going in there! No damn way."
"Too bad." Dean tossed her a flashlight. "Go get 'em tiger."
Alex mumbled curses against them under her breath, but got down, pulling the vent covering away. She pulled out her gun and crawled in. "I hate small spaces," she hissed. There was enough room for her to army crawl comfortably. She quickly realized there were bloodstains on the metal. "Shit," she hissed, forcing herself to go deeper. The bloodstains continued until she reached a T-junction. She peered around the right corner, gun cocked. Nothing. She quickly turned to her left, and her blood ran cold. Blood pooled on the metal, and there were chunks of flesh and bone, and what Alex realized was part of a scalp. "Nope nope nope nope nope." She crawled backwards as fast as she can until she felt hands on her ankles. She panicked and struggled.
"Relax," Sam's voice reached her ears. "It's just us." They pulled her out of the vent.
"I need to grow. At least a foot. Dammit, guys. If you ever make me do that again . . ." She leaned against the wall, catching her breath before continuing to ramble. "I mean, being in such a small space is one thing, but the blood and bone crap? Uh-uh. Nope."
"You saw something?" Sam knelt down beside her.
"There's uh, lots of blood. And uh, flesh and bone. Definitely human." She met Sam's brown gaze. "I freakin' hate this job."
"She's fine," Sam rolled his eyes, standing back up. Dean helped her to her feet.
"Okay, okay. I'm fine. I, uh, I think I know what we're dealing with."
"Okay, what?"
"Not now. I'm, uh, not sure yet. I'll share later." Alex started walking towards the door. "Can we go back to the motel yet?" Sam and Dean didn't answer immediately, so Alex continued. "Whatever. I'll be in the car."
She walked out there and sat down on the hood, breathing deeply. She started sorting through her thoughts. "This is an episode," she muttered under her breath. "Adam is real. But he's dead. Is he dead now? I think so. Ghouls. Two of them. They wanted to kill John, but he's already dead, so they're going after Sam and Dean. And probably me too." She quickly drew her feet up off of the ground. "Okay. Should I tell Sam and Dean? There's two of them. The other won't show until it's time. When Sam's at the house by himself. Right. That's when they attack. At night. Tonight or tomorrow? After that?"
She stopped talking when Sam and Dean emerged from the house. Dean shot her a warning glance, and she put her feet back down. They got into the car and drove back to the motel.
"Do you want to share now?" Dean asked her.
"Maybe." Alex stared out the window.
"Listen. If you're still sore about having to crawl into that vent--"
"It's fine, Dean. What's a little more nightmares between friends, eh?" Alex turned back to them. She leaned between them. "I'll tell you what I think, but you have to promise not to tell Adam, capisce? We're dealing with ghouls. Two of them. Children of the ghoul your dad offed in 1990. Kate's dead, and so is Adam."
Both Sam and Dean uttered exclamations of surprise. "What?"
"They can take the appearance of their last victim, right? It's revenge, plain and simple. Kate and Adam are dead. They called up John, but were too late. So what better than his two sons, hmm? All I know is they try and kill Sam when Dean goes back to this cemetery. Now you guys got to act like you don't know squat. 'Adam' can't know we know. And we can't kill him the next time we see him. We need to get both of them at the same time."
Neither Sam and Dean immediately answered. "You sure about this?"
"Pretty confident, yeah," Alex hesitated only for a second. "Is there anyway to test them without having to blow their brains out?"
Sam narrowed his eyes. "Nothing inconspicuous. Sorry."
"Okay. Then we'll just have to go with my memory here." Alex sighed. "Let's give it a while. Maybe something will become obvious." She fell silent for a few seconds. "Just, pretend this conversation never happened, okay?"
"Okay."
...
They arrived back at the motel in the next five minutes. Alex walked over to the bed and sat down, flicking on the tv. Dean sat beside her, cleaning his shotgun. "What'd you think?" he asked his brother.
"About this guy being a ghoul?" Sam let out a snort. He sat down at the table, pulling out his laptop. "It's possible, I guess. I mean, when has Alex been wrong?"
"Yeah, but she's never remembered anything this early along," Dean reminded him. "Usually she waits till near the end when she's completely sure. Besides, she admitted she's not totally sure herself."
Sam grunted in agreement, and Alex finally turned her head to look at them. "I am right here, you know. And I can hear you."
"We're just stating the facts," Dean said. "It's true, isn't it. You're not sure?"
"Not one hundred per cent. But close." Alex swung her legs over the side of the bed, sitting up. "Next time we see Adam, we'll tell him we think the monster's coming for him, okay? We'll go to his house at night and pretend to wait for it." The idea's were flowing now, and Alex kept talking. "Then me 'n Dean will say we hear something, and we'll go look outside. The ghouls will attack when Sam's on his own--"
"Wait wait wait." Sam stopped her. "Why do I have to be the bait?"
"Because the ghouls want to kill the both of you," Alex replied simply.
"And how do we stop me from being killed?"
Alex thought for a second. "Have a text message ready to send. When they reveal themselves to be ghouls, send it, and we'll come running back in. Two head shots, done. Case closed."
Sam and Dean sat silently for a few seconds. "And if you're wrong and he's not a ghoul?"
"Then nothing happens. The night passes, and we regroup the next day. Come on, guys. It's worth a shot."
Dean nodded, and Sam glanced at him. "Dean . . ."
"She's right, Sam. It's worth a shot. If she's right, and we can stop them now, that's what we're gonna do."
"Okay. So what if Adam turns up here?" Sam asked. "What do we do?"
"We tell him what he want's to know. If he asks who we are, we say hunters. Keep his trust. He asks if we know what killed his mom, we say no. Okay?"
Sam nodded.
"That's your plan?" Dean scoffed. "Tell him we're hunters? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."
"She's got a point, Dean." Sam insisted. "We have to get his trust. Until then, I'll see what I can find on Joe Barton. Maybe there'll be something to support Alex's idea."
...
Within the next twenty minutes, there was a knock on the door. Sam got up and opened it. "Who the hell are you?" Adam pushed his way into the room.
"Adam. Hey." Sam glanced back at Dean and Alex before closing the door. "Take it easy." Dean quickly pulled the bed covered over his shotgun, hiding it from view.
"No, don't tell me to take it easy, okay? My house is a crime scene, my mom's probably dead, and you three -- well, you told me to call the cops, but you got to bail before they show?" Adam turned so he was facing all three. "So. Who are you really?" When no one said anything, he continued. "Those cops didn't know where to look for my mom, Dean, but you did. And I heard you talking earlier -- something about grave robberies." Still nothing. Adam turned, his eye spotting the barrel of Dean's shotgun peeking out from under the covers. "You're not mechanics. I just want to know what's going on." Still no response. "Please."
Sam finally sighed. "We're hunters."
"Sammy!" Dean snapped.
"He deserves to know, Dean."
Dean just shook his head.
"What do you mean, 'hunters'?" Adam looked quizzically at the three of them.
"Listen." Sam sat down on the edge of the bed. "We hunt creatures."
"Monsters," Alex clarified. "Ghosts, goblins, ghouls, vamps. Stuff like that."
"Demons," Dean added. "Lots of ugly-ass demons."
"T-They're real?"
"Yeah. All over the place. And we hunt them." Dean pulled his shotgun out from under the sheets, tossing it up near the pillows.
"Okay, so basically what you're saying is that every movie monster, every nightmare I've ever had -- that's all real?"
"Godzilla's just a movie," Dean offered helpfully.
"We hunt them." Sam ignored his brother. "And so did Dad."
Adam nodded slowly. "Okay."
"Okay?" Dean huffed. "That's it?"
"What am I suppose to say?"
"That we're liars, that we're crazy. Nobody just says, 'okay'."
"Well, you're my brothers. You're telling me the truth, aren't you?"
"Yeah."
"Then I believe you. Now, what took my mom?"
"We're not sure," Sam said slowly. "Something's in town stealing bodies, living and dead, but we don't know what."
"There's a long list of freaks that that fit the bill," Dean added.
"You think maybe she might still be alive?" Adam asked Dean hopefully. Dean didn't meet his gaze. Adam turned to Sam, who looked down as well. "Oh. How can I help?"
"You can't."
"This thing killed my mom. If you're hunting it, then I want in."
"No." Dean shook his head stubbornly.
"Dean," Sam protested, "Look, maybe--"
"Maybe what?"
"He lost his mother. Maybe we can understand what that feels like."
"Why do you think Dad never told us about this kid, Sam? Huh? Why do you think he ripped out his pages?"
"Because--"
"Because he was protecting him!"
"Dad's dead, Dean," Sam said quietly.
"That doesn't matter! He didn't want Adam to have our lives, okay? And we're going to respect his wishes."
"Do I get a say in this?" Adam finally asked.
"No!" Both Sam and Dean said at the same time.
Alex let out a frustrated breath. "Why do you two always have to fight?" she snapped.
"Shut up!" Dean glared at her, and Alex closed her mouth, eyes smothering. Dean spun around and walked towards the door. "Babysit the kids," he muttered to his brother.
"I am not a kid!" Alex stood up. Dean slammed the door behind him. Alex huffed. "I'm going for a walk," she hissed through clenched teeth. Then she left. She pulled her jacket tighter around her waist, walking down the street. The October wind was stinging. She saw the Impala drive off down the street, and she let out another breath. Why did they have to always be so difficult?
"Hey Cas," she began. "How's it going up there? Not too difficult I suppose." She paused. "Sorry, sorry. You're probably busy. It's just . . . never mind. It's not important to you."
"What's not important to me?"
Alex turned around, a small smile forming across her face. She was getting use to the angel dropping in all the time. "It's nothing. Sorry to disturb you."
"It's . . . no problem. I was looking for an excuse to get away." Castiel looked her up and down. "Two of the angels in my garrison have the unfortunate habit of always fighting with each other."
Despite herself, Alex laughed. "I know how it feels. Sam and Dean just got in a fight as well. Dean went off someplace on his own."
"It wasn't about you, was it?" Castiel tipped his head to one side. "I know they argue about you a lot."
"Really?" Alex blinked in surprise. "Uh, that's not good, I suppose. What do they argue about?"
"I thought you knew."
"Nope."
"Then it is not my business to say." Castiel looked up at the sky, a frown across his face. "I must go, although I would much rather stay and talk." Then he was gone.
"Okie-dokie then. Have a good day."
...
She walked around for several hours before the cold drove her back in. Sam was sitting next to Adam, holding a gun. He grunted a hello, and Alex waved back. "Shower," she told them, heading off to the bathroom. She added with a glance at the clock, "Then dinner."
...
After a long, warm shower, Alex returned to the main room. She frowned. "You ordered pizza without me?"
"Relax. There's enough left for two of you."
Alex picked up a slice, grumbling. It was still warm, and she took a bite before sitting down on the bed. "Whatcha doing?"
"I'm showing Adam how to use a gun," Sam replied, not bothering to look up.
Alex paused. "Okie-dokie." She flipped on the tv. "I'll just do my own thing over here."
"Then go do something quieter," Sam snapped. "That's distracting."
"That's distracting," Alex mimicked him, getting up and turning it off. She reached past Adam and grabbed her necklace off of the nightstand.
"Is that yours?" Adam asked quietly. When Alex nodded, he added, "It's nice. Does that symbol mean anything?"
"Yeah, it's a anti-possession charm." Alex slipped it over her neck. "Keeps the demons out." She paused, fingering the angel wing pendant. "This one's from my mom," she murmured. "It came in a matching set. She . . . she was buried with the other one."
"Oh. I'm sorry." Adam looked away.
Alex quietly walked over to Dean's bag, pulling out his computer and shaking off the memories. She sat down at the table before turning it on. She waited. Soon the login screen came up. Alex typed in Dean's password. Impala1979.
She connected with the internet and logged in onto supernaturalfancentral.com. Then she logged into her account: not-actually-a-winchester. She had several notices in her inbox. She checked them out. She had become pretty well known among the fans for her ability to answer the questions they might have. There were several crap questions that she gave crap answers to, then got bored.
She looked at the clock. Eight pm already? Damn. "Sam," she whined. "I'm bored."
"Shut up."
Alex looked over at the other Winchester. Adam wasn't on the bed; a quick glance told her that he was in the bathroom. "Sam?" she started, "why are you so mean to me?"
Sam didn't immediately look up. Eventually, he put down his gun. "You let Dean go to hell," he reminded her, voice sharp with pain. "He's changed, you know that? He remembers everything, and you could have stopped it."
Alex let out a long breath. "I wish I could have stopped it," she admitted. "But that would have meant letting you die."
"Better me than him--"
Alex cut him off. "I knew Dean would come back. If you had died, you could have stayed in hell forever."
Sam opened his mouth to respond, but the bathroom door opened, and Adam stepped out. They fell into silence.
...
"Sam . . ." It was fifteen minutes later before Adam finally broke the silence. "How did Dad die?"
"Demons."
"You hunted it down, got revenge?" Adam put down the gun he was disassembling.
"Dean killed it."
"So it's over for you."
"It's never over." As Sam spoke those words, the lights suddenly went out. There was a rattling sound, and Alex looked up.
"What the--"
"Sh." Sam silenced him. Alex hurried over to her bed, pulling her gun out from under the pillow. "Stay here." Sam walked over to the door, shotgun cocked. Adam stood up, watching intently. Alex followed the Winchester. He threw open the door, and both raised their guns. The rattling sound moved behind them.
Alex spun around. "Ceiling," she whispered.
"It's in the vents," Sam realized. "Go!" He fired a shot at the ceiling as Adam hurried out. Alex followed, and Sam took up the rear. They hurried down the stairs and into the parking lot.
"Where's your car?" Sam snapped.
"There." Adam pointed to the dark-colored truck.
"All right, keys." Sam held out his hand, and Adam gave them to him. Sam went to the driver's side and Adam circled around to the passenger side. Alex followed Sam. He fumbled with the keys, trying to get the door open. Suddenly he was on the ground and being dragged under the truck.
"Sam!" Alex yelled. She reached down, grabbing Sam's arm. She heard the sound of a car pulling up to a stop.
"Dean, help!" Adam grabbed Sam's other hand, trying to pull the large Winchester out from under the car. Dean grabbed Sam's dropped shotgun and fired two shots. Whatever was holding on to Sam screeched and let go, and Sam scrambled to his feet. Adam fell to the ground, breathing heavily.
Alex patted Sam on the back. "You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm good."
Dean immediately got into the truck and threw it into reverse. It rolled back to reveal a half-open sewer grate. Sam leaned up against Impala, taking deep breaths. Alex carefully approached the grate, shotgun poised. There was blood on the edge of the hole, but no creature was to be seen.
"You hit it," Alex said. "But it's gone. Whatever it is." She turned back to Dean. "Good shot."
Dean shrugged. "I winged it." He looked at Sam. "Did you see anything?"
Sam shook his head. "I didn't get a good look."
"Why -- should we go after it?" Adam suggested, looking down the hole.
"No, no." Dean shook his head. "In that maze?"
"That's suicide," Alex added. "Besides. It's long gone."
"All right. We don't know what it is, but we do know who it's after. Joe Barton, Adam's mom--"
"Adam," Dean added. "It was under his truck, just waiting for him." He glanced at Alex, and she shrugged.
"It set a trap, and I walked right into it." Sam let out a frustrated breath.
"Doesn't matter." Den comforted his little brother. "You're right. There's a pattern. Joe Barton was a cop, and I'm pretty sure he helped out Dad. So we've got him, Dad's girl, and his son."
"All the people Dad knew in town."
"At least we know why it's back."
"It wants revenge." Adam stood up, looking from Sam to Dean. "Now what?"
"Now we set a trap." Alex leaned up against Sam. He shook her off. "Back at Adam's house. That'll be the best place. We wait there for it to come back. And this time we won't mess up."
Both Sam and Dean exchanged a glance. "Sounds like a plan," Dean said slowly. "Uh, Adam, why don't you head back. We need to get some stuff, then we'll meet you there."
"Uh, okay." Adam got into his truck. "Just hurry up." He drove off.
"He didn't seem very scared," Alex remarked.
"You sure this is going to work?"
"Yeah. I'm sure." They got into the car and followed Adam. "Remember the plan? The real one?"
"Yeah. You just told it to us this afternoon." Dean rolled his eyes.
"Don't drive so fast," Alex said. "Give him a chance to tell his sibling."
"Sibling?"
"Yeah. I mentioned that, remember? The two ghouls are the offspring of the ghoul your dad offed? Anyways."
"Whatever it was just tried to grab Adam." However, Dean slowed down to the speed limit.
"Yeah, well, it ended up grabbing Sam."
...
They arrived at Adam's house a few minutes later. His car was parked outside, and they got out, looking around. "If whatever it is got Adam, and he's not actually a ghoul, you're dead," Dean whispered, handing Alex a shotgun.
"I'll take my chances."
"Okay, so our plan is what? Just go in there and pretend to play along?"
Alex pulled a thoughtful face, then nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good."
They walked up to the door and knocked. Adam answered. He let them in, and they headed towards the kitchen.
"Okay." Sam took charge. "We're going to salt every door, window, and every vent except for that one upstairs, okay?"
"Okay." Sam and Adam went upstairs, and Dean and Alex salted the downstairs. A few minutes later they joined Sam and Adam upstairs. "This is the only vent unsalted," Sam informed them. They waited.
...
After ten or so minutes Alex froze. "I heard something," she whispered.
"Where?" Adam looked around.
"Outside." Alex paused, pretending to listen. "Dean. Let's go check it out. You two stay here, okay?"
Sam nodded, and Alex led Dean outside.
"Now what?"
"Now we wait." Alex raised her gun. "Just, uh, be careful. They may decide to pick us off first."
...
It was less than a minute later when Dean's phone buzzed. He looked at it. A text from Sam. One word. Now.
"Now." Dean rushed back into the house. There were voices in the kitchen. They ran in, skidding to a stop. There was Adam standing next to a woman, a gun pointing at Sam. A shot rang out, and the woman fell to the ground, head blown off. Alex glanced back to see Dean with his gun raised.
Adam turned to look at Dean, eyes blazing, face splattered with blood. He looked completely inhuman. Alex suppressed a shiver.
"Oh, that's right. We know who you are." Dean raised his gun. Adam dropped the gun and launched himself at Sam.
"I will kill all of you," he snarled, knocking the large hunter to the ground. Dean dropped his gun as well, pulling the ghoul off of his brother. He shoved him across the room. Adam ran at Dean. Then he collapsed. Alex lowered her discharged gun, disgusted at the now-bloodstained walls. Sam staggered back to his feet, bleeding from a wound on his neck. He looked wildly around.
"Let's get out of here," Alex growled. Sam and Dean exchanged a surprised glance. Alex grabbed a dish towel off of the counter and tossed it at Sam; he pressed it against his neck as she hurried out of the house. They followed her out to the car.
"Hey, uh, good work back there," Dean started.
"Whatever." Alex shook her head, throwing her shotgun into the trunk. "Let's just get back to the motel."
...
Alex groaned, looking around the room for he millionth time. Both Sam and Dean were collapsed on the bed, snoring gently. Alex had no idea how they could sleep after that. There were two things she couldn't' do: zombies and ghouls. And, of course, they had just dealt with the latter. Oh, and cannibals. She didn't do cannibals.
She stood up, her legs cramping. 2am. Five hours till the sun came up. Grabbing one of Dean's jackets, she quietly exited the motel room, slipping into the dark of night. The October air was crisp and chill, and Alex shivered slightly. She started to wander, not going anywhere in particular. Stopping, she looked up at the flat roof, an idea formulating in her mind. She smiled to herself before making her way down towards the end of the motel. Looking around, she quietly climbed up onto the dumpster, and from there, onto the roof. She sat down above their room, legs dangling off the edge, leaning back to look up at the clear moon.
"What are you doing?"
Alex jumped slightly at the voice. She looked back. "Uh, hey Cas." She shot him a small smile. "I couldn't sleep."
The angel approached, sitting down close beside her as he normally did. Alex attributed it to his natural lack of personal space. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," Alex nodded, returning her gaze to the parking lot below her, and, beyond that, the highway. "Yeah, everything's fine. What brings you around?"
"Nothing." Alex shivered again, and Cas looked over at her. He wordlessly took of his trench coat, putting it across her shoulders. Alex accepted it thankfully, pulling it tightly around her. "We're still trying to stop Lilith."
Alex sighed. "I'm not going to--"
"That's not why I'm here," Castiel cut in. "If you say you can't tell me, then I believe you have a good reason for doing so."
Alex mumbled her thanks, returning her gaze to the stars. "It's hard to believe I've been here for over a year," she murmured.
"Do you miss your old life?" the angel asked quietly.
"Sometimes. I mean, it was horrible, but there were some good parts." She pulled her legs up under her, leaning against the angel's shoulder. He stiffened slightly, but quickly relaxed. He put an arm awkwardly around her, not finding any other comfortable place for it to rest. Alex was thankful for the body heat, and didn't protest. "So, uh, that archangel back with Chuck. Who was it?"
"Remiel. Fifth oldest."
"Ah. Cool." They sat silently for several seconds.
"If you could be any animal, what would you be?" Castiel asked quietly.
Alex pulled a thoughtful face. She had grown accustomed to Castiel's sudden, and apparently random, line of questions. "Probably a tiger," she finally decided. "That would be pretty cool. What about you?"
Castiel sat silently, thinking. "I don't want to be any," he finally admitted.
"You can't say that," Alex teased gently. "That's cheating."
"Fine." The angel furrowed his brow, deep in concentration. "Then I would want to be a dog."
"Hm," Alex nodded. They lapsed back into silence. Finally Alex let out a yawn.
"Yes or no. Would you like to be an angel?"
Alex paused, thinking hard. She looked up to see Cas watching her intently, his blue eyes desperately waiting for an answer. Alex found the question odd, but shrugged it off. He'd asked weirder ones. Finally, she nodded. "Yes. That could be pretty cool."
"Good," Castiel said quietly. Alex was about to respond, but let out a loud yawn instead. Cas looked over at her. "You need to sleep." Before Alex could protest, he gently touched her forehead, and warmth washed over her. Alex fell into a deep sleep.