April 3rd, 2016
Collingsburg, Pennsylvania

A crack of thunder split the darkened sky, opening up the heavens and sending its torrent down upon the roof of the 1971 Mercury Marquis. Raindrops rolled down the pale blue paint, pausing to gather upon the rusty wheel wells before falling onto the cracked pavement below. The car inside was dry; the tan, sun-cracked leather creaked beneath its occupant's weight, a sound that was lost beneath the idle hum of the engine and the soft thrum of the speakers.

It was parked, its balding tires brushing against the concrete curb that lined the suburban street. Most of the surrounding houses were dark and silent; occasionally, headlights would cut through the rain as a car rolled past, an early commuter on their way to work. None of them took notice of the old Marquis.

Alex sat in the front seat, her black wings pressed between her back and the leather interior. The feathers, once full and soft, had been stripped to little beside the bare vanes which dug into her skin, itching through her clothes. Her fingers gripped the keys, still sitting inside the ignition, but her eyes were fixed upon the house across the street. It was the only home with the lights on; if Alex focused, she could see the shadows of a figure moving behind the drawn blinds. She knew who that person was — her grace told her that much, but she hadn't yet dared reach out far enough to brush against him. If you leave out that door, you're not walking back through. Dean Winchester's promise still sat in her throat, cold and bitter. You're choosing Lucifer over us, and there's no coming back from that.

With a shiver, Alex pulled the keys free, and the engine spluttered to a stop, plunging the car into silence. A gust of wind rattled her feathers as she stepped out into the torrent, and Alex narrowed her eyes against the downpour as she hurried towards the house, her thin and empty wings doing little to shield her from the rain. The twenty steps that took her to the porch were enough to soak her to the skin, and the young angel brushed her sopping hair out of her eyes.

The door was unlocked. It swung open as her fingertips brushed across the brass knob, and Alex hung back as she felt the air twist. Her hesitation lasted only a moment before she jumped inside, urged forward by the sudden wind that pummeled cold, stinging raindrops against her back.

She heard the door slam behind her, an impact that rattled the walls, and her wings twitched. Her grace writhed within her; fear held her back, but a greater desperation drove her inwards. A mirror hung in the hallway and Alex paused, frowning at her reflection. The rain had turned her blonde hair brown, and the wind had tossed and tangled it into a matted mess. Grey eyes glittered beneath the disarray, and Alex quickly turned away, combing hasty fingers through the locks to try and salvage her appearance.

Her canvas shoes squeaked against the wooden floor as she delved further into the home, and she paused beside the doorway that led into the front room. The overhead lights were on, their yellow glow warm in contrast to the storm's black cold. A figure stood in the corner. The face was unfamiliar; blue eyes sat above an angular jaw and pointed chin. The shadow of a black beard showed upon the cheeks, a shade or two darker than the mop of hair upon his head. What was familiar was the crimson wings that lay folded across his back: stretched out, they could have easily spanned the entire room. "It took you awhile to come inside." The strange voice had Alex hesitating, and one wing curled forward as Lucifer smiled; the grin felt far too cold for that face. "It's just me."

"I know." Her voice cracked, and she took a moment to steady it. "I just didn't want to go out in the storm." Alex felt his grace stretch forward through the air, a curious probe, and she reached out to meet it with her own. She could feel the change the moment they touched; Lucifer's frozen grace flooded inwards, and her eyes glowed red with his power, fading as the rush of ice subsided. A yelp hung in the air; was it hers?

It was definitely hers. Lucifer hadn't moved, his lips pressed together as he watched her. His grace was back in place, tucked within her where it was supposed to be. She pressed into it, gently feeling where its hooks had dug into her: the perch felt ... precarious, balanced on the edge and moments away from slipping into oblivion. She stepped forward, but something caught against her foot, something soft and heavy, and she stumbled. A body lay on the floor, already cold. The face was unrecognizable; the flesh was charred, and empty sockets stared up at the stipple brush ceiling. It was clearly a man, and the body just beyond that was a female, several years older. "Right." Lucifer's thoughtful eyes followed hers. "Apparently no one in this family is strong enough to hold me for long." His wing flicked out, skating over the bodies. "Those two burned through quickly. This one seems to be lasting a bit longer." He motioned her forward with a crooked finger, and Alex skirted the corpses with a frown. "But it won't last forever."

Alex drew closer, and she could see the faint fissures that were starting to tear through his exposed skin. "How are you feeling?" She reached out to put a hesitant hand upon his chest, grace pressing up against his. There was a moment of resistance before it opened up, letting her inside. "I — I was scared Amara had killed you."

"I think she tried." Cold fingers brushed against her cheek, and Alex's head tipped up with a soft hum. "Luckily, she was still weak, and I was ripped out." The touch pulled away. "Well? Did Dad manage to lock her away or, uh ..." His eyes flickered towards the window, and Alex's shoulders fell as wind rattled the windows.

"No. Chuck is ..." Alex's mouth dried, and she paused to wet her lips under Lucifer's stare. "Chuck is dying. Amara — she did something to him." Her hand moved from his chest to grab his wrist, tugging him away from the wall. "The Winchesters are building — like a bomb or something, but I don't know if they can do it without you —"

Lucifer's face exploded into light. Alex flinched away as his grace spilled outwards, coiling through the air. The temperature instantaneously dropped, leaving her last breath hanging frozen in the air, and Alex's feathers puffed out as the light faded. The vessel whose hand she had been holding collapsed, faceless, to the wooden floor, and Alex stepped back as a dead arm hit the ground where her feet had just been. "Lucifer?" She spoke the name out loud, listening as it reverberated through the empty house. She felt along his grace, tightly coiled around Castiel's, and a voice carried through the air as if an answer, a soft and barely-there whisper. Alex turned towards the noise just as a white light flooded from the stairs, and Lucifer's grace hummed within her. There was a moment of silence, and then footsteps echoed through the wooden beams above her head.

They were lighter than Alex expected, and the young angel tipped her head as they approached. She knew it was Lucifer — the wings, as always, made identification obvious — but she didn't expect a child to step into sight. The girl was small, no taller than five feet, and the oversized crimson wings that spilled from her slim shoulders only exaggerated her unimposing height. "Sorry." Lucifer shook out his feathers with a thin scowl, and Alex's eyes dropped down onto the primaries, which dragged along the floor. "What were you saying?"

"I-I — uh ..." Alex cleared her throat, searching for her old train of thought. "The Winchesters. They can't kill Amara on their own. You — I'm sorry. Where did uh, she come from?"

"Upstairs. I kept her unconscious and subdued once I had her consent." Lucifer's lips twisted into a frown, a look that appeared more as a pout than anything else. "Vessel hopping isn't easy, but I'm trying to make the most of it." He stepped over the bodies as he approached, and Alex shifted back as he stopped in front of her.

Her wings flittered as she looked down into the round, feminine face, and it wasn't long before she had to turn her eyes away. "What are you gonna do about ... this?" Alex motioned down to the three bodies that lay around them. "You can't just leave them here."

"I'll have the demons take care of it." Lucifer waved a dismissive hand, and Alex's shoes scuffed against the floor as she stepped back. "I'm more worried about who you might have on your tail."

Alex's feather ruffled. "No one," she retorted. "Everyone's too busy with Amara. Besides, Crowley all but sent me after you, so I don't know why he'd follow me."

The scoff that emerged from Lucifer's throat was high-pitched, and the singsong voice juxtaposed his obvious scorn so much so that it had Alex scrubbing at her head. "Maybe because you're the only one who stands a chance of finding me, and he wants nothing more than to stuff me back downstairs while I'm still weak." Lucifer's hand came up to rest on her chest, and Alex stared down at the painted nails. "Castiel could still follow you." His grace tugged upon her mate's, and Alex grunted as it suddenly swelled, flooding through her and pulling taut on the bond. There was a yank, and then the warmth of Cas' grace dissipated into cold. "There. He'll still be able to feel you, but he can't trace you or see through your eyes." Lucifer's grace pulled back, and the hand fell away. "That's all I can do from out here. If you want to get rid of his grace ... well, you know how." White teeth flashed in a grin behind pink lips, and Alex's wings flicked before she could stop them.

"Yeah, uh ... can we maybe have this conversation when you're not wearing a twelve year old girl?" Alex sidestepped Lucifer and jumped over the bodies to stand in the middle of the room, giving herself plenty of distance from the archangel. "Actually ... let's just table this until you're in a more permanent vessel."

Lucifer's eyes dropped down to his slim hands, where the skin had already started to fissure. "This vessel won't last long." His wings trembled, and Alex felt his grace warm ever so slightly. "Wait here until I find a new one. And then ditch the car." Green eyes turned out the window. "No one can follow you."

"My car? I don't —"

The vessel's eyes burned away as Lucifer was expelled, and Alex ducked as the archangel's grace swarmed through the air. For one brief moment, it enveloped her, plunging her into a blanket of ice so cold that it burned hot against her very being. Then it was gone, and with it the light, leaving Alex standing alone in the room as it plunged back into darkness. Thunder rumbled above her, and lightning cracked, illuminating the bodies at her feet; the girl's face was smouldering, wisps of smoke rising from cracked and charred skin. With a huff, Alex turned away from the corpse, flicking her wing in feigned disinterest. Lucifer's promise of — wait. Lucifer. Thunder cracked again, and Alex's grace plunged inwards, twisting in frantic circles as it searched for his grace. His expulsion had all but ripped it away; only the faintest trace remained, clinging onto the knot where she and Castiel were bonded. She swiped a hand through her hair — the chill of Lucifer as he had left had stiffened the wet strands — and she started towards the door. If she left now she could get a headstart: there was no telling how far away Lucifer would have to go.

The storm had given way by midmorning, leaving behind a grey and cloudy sky. A cold wind still cut through the air, whipping at Alex's hair, and the angel shivered. Her wings were curled around her, the bare and broken vanes spread to hide as much of her from the dawn's chill as possible. The metal bench beneath her sucked the heat from her flesh with no regard for the denim that served as a barrier between her skin and the outside world.

A bus rumbled in the distance, and Alex's head lifted, searching for the source with eyes as gray as the morning sky. The bus roared past the small covered stop, kicking up muddy water in its wake, and the young angel slouched back in her seat as the droplets splattered against her boots. "Dammit." She muttered the curse under her breath, reaching down to brush the mud away. "Why couldn't I just drive my own car?" Her hands slid up her jeans, resting on the front pocket to trace the outline of her keys. In the end, she had disregarded Lucifer's command to abandon the car in the neighborhood; currently, the Marquis sat tucked away one state over beside an abandoned cabin, one of Bobby Singer's safehouses. Even though the old hunter was long gone, the cabins scattered across the country remained, safe havens for any hunters passing through.

A second bus appeared on the horizon, its blue paint gleaming as the clouds above parted, revealing the first hints of blue skies and a white sun — Alex jumped to her feet, her head craned upwards. The sun. It had lost its orange, burning hue, and the sky was clear on the horizon. "Son of a ..." Alex's fingers closed around her phone, and they had dialed Sam's number before she had even realized the phone was up against her ear. It rang, and then rang again, and Alex frowned when all she reached was his voicemail. If they had —

"Hey!" A horn blared, jerking Alex out of her thoughts. The bus had stopped in front of her, its doors open wide. "Are you getting on or not?"

With a muttered apology to the red-faced driver, Alex climbed aboard, brushing her hand against the card reader; her grace rushed outwards, and the machine beeped, flashing green as she passed. The bus itself was nearly empty; a gentleman sat near the front, a newspaper in his hands, and two young men were slumped near the back. Alex didn't need her grace to tell they were hungover. Their eyes were glazed, and even from where she stood, the smell of stomach bile and alcohol was strong. The bus' doors closed with a hiss, and Alex sunk into an empty seat equidistant from the other occupants. She turned her attention down onto her phone as the bus lurched forward. Calling Dean was out of the question; even if he did answer, dealing with the scorn was more than Alex felt up to. With a reluctant sigh, she scrolled down in search of Castiel's name.

His number popped up before she even reached it, and Alex jumped to answer the incoming call. "Cas, hey. I was just about to call you. I saw the sky, but when I called Sam —"

"You called Sam?" The desperation that sharpened Castiel's voice had Alex frowning. "Did you talk with him?"

"What? No, he didn't answer. Why?" Alex leaned forward in her seat, her eyes narrowing as her feathers prickled. She prodded at Castiel's grace within her, and concern bubbled forth, spilling into her chest. "Cas? Is he okay?"

The worried grace reined itself back in, sinking down and out of sight. "I don't know. After we sent Dean to Amara with Rowena's bomb, Sam and I returned to the bunker. Someone was there waiting for us. A woman." Frustration dragged Castiel's voice down into a growl. "I didn't get a good look at her before she activated a banishing sigil. I was cast to the other side of the state." He paused, and Alex heard a low female voice in the background. "Dean and I — Dean is alive, thank God — we're in Eudora looking for him now."

"Wait." Alex's wings curled forward, but a more pressing question sat upon her tongue. "Why wouldn't Dean be alive?"

"He wasn't just carrying Rowena's bomb," Castiel rasped, and Alex's jaw ticked. "He was the bomb. She put the souls into him. If he had detonated it, it would have killed him, too."

Alex's face scrunched up as she looked out the window; the sun was back, peeking through grey clouds. "But Amara — the sun's back to normal. Didn't Dean kill her?" She tore her eyes away, slouching down and lowering her voice as she heard the hungover couple stir in their seats. "If she's not — then Chuck —"

"Is alive," Castiel finished impatiently. "Yes, and now he and Amara are gone. To talk, Dean says. I can explain it all later. Where are you?"

"Pennsylvania. Headed south."

Silence met her words, and Alex's grace shifted, dancing around, but not touching, where she and the seraph were bonded. As his lack of response dragged, she reluctantly prodded him, stirring his grace back to life. "How quickly can you get here?" he finally asked. "Dean doesn't want your help, but ..." Cas cut off with a tight exhale, and Alex imagined his nostrils flaring, face darkened. "It's my fault that Sam is gone, and we don't know how much time he may have. I hate asking you for help, but we need all that —"

"No, don't worry about it." Alex cut him off, shaking of her head even as she felt her heart drop. He hated? "Of course I'll help, Cas. I can be there by —" Wings fluttered, and Alex felt Lucifer's grace envelop her, and she gasped as it sunk its fangs into her bones, curling up inside her belly. A body had appeared in the seat next to her, and Alex caught a glimpse of crimson from the corner of her eye. "Uh, scratch that, I can be there as soon as you tell me exactly where you are."

"He's there, isn't he?" Castiel's question was lost beneath Lucifer's, "Who's that?"

Alex shifted her phone to her other ear, her now free hand pushing against Lucifer's shoulder to keep him from leaning even closer. "Just text me the address," she told Cas, barely waiting for the seraph's agreement before she hung up. "Sam's in trouble. I need you to take me to, uh —" Her phone dinged, and she looked down at the text, — "to this outdoor market in Eudora, Kansas." Alex looked up into Lucifer's brown eyes, and she reached up to tuck blond hair behind his ear. "Cas is there waiting for me." Lucifer's face darkened, and Alex took a moment to study the unfamiliar creases before she scoffed. "No, not like that. Him and I ... that's over with." Something in her chest twisted, sadness perhaps, but it was quickly vanquished by Lucifer's grace. "But he needs my help, and you — you're just biding time until you can find a more permanent vessel, so I thought ..."

Cold hands grabbed her jaw, pulling her up into a kiss, and Alex froze as unfamiliar lips moved against hers. She hummed as teeth nipped at her bottom lip, but the buzzing of her phone had her head jerking back, hand planting against his chest to keep Lucifer from following. "Please, Luce. Can you take me there? If you're not strong enough ..."

Strong enough?" Feathers rustled indignantly, brushing against her back as the devil scoffed. "That's not the problem. The question is, why would I take you there? Somehow I don't think they'd appreciate my help."

"Well ... it's probably best if you don't stick around long enough for them to tell you that." Alex lifted her head up above the seats, but the bus' other occupants paid them no attention. "I'm already in hot enough water with Dean, and I think you and Cas should probably stay apart for now."

She expected an argument, but Lucifer's head just tilted back in a laugh. "I don't need you to protect me." His hands grabbed her wrists, and Alex was jerked out of her seat as his wings carried them up into the air. The grey clouds vanished as they crossed the country, leaving only sun behind. Lucifer slowed as they neared the ground, and Alex caught sight of a flash of tan through the trees on the edge of the market's clearing. There. Her grace pushed against Lucifer's, directing him down, and the next second, her feet were touching soft grass.

Castiel's feathers rustled in the wind of their landing, and he turned. "Thank you for coming," he began; his face was turned towards Alex, but even still, his eyes kept darting over to Lucifer. "We —"

Lucifer's grace hummed, warming, and Alex's sidestepped moments before his vessel lit up and burned away, expelling the archangel into the air. He disappeared almost immediately, taking off into the sky, and Alex watched him go through squinted eyes. "Sorry," she apologized as the empty vessel fell, and Castiel stepped back to avoid it. "He's been doing that a lot lately." Her grace twisted, first with disappointment and then with nerves; Lucifer's grace was gone again, leaving her alone and unprotected.

"Cas?" Dean's voice rang through the air, sharp and loud, and both angels turned the source. The Winchester stopped as he stepped into view, gun in hand, and dark eyes flickered between the two of them before dropping down onto the dead body. "We saw the light." His voice tightened, clipped and terse, as his shoulders drew back. "What the hell happened? What's she doing here?"

The question was directed at Castiel, but Alex stepped forward to answer before he could. "Lucifer burned through another vessel. Don't worry, he's gone now," she added as the Winchester scowled, and she lifted her chin; under his glare, the lack of Lucifer's grace sat like a hole in her chest. "I'm here to find Sam. Cas said that someone took him."

"You called her?" Dean's green eyes flashed as he stalked forward, and Castiel's jaw set. "I told you, we don't need —"

"This isn't about you and her, Dean," Castiel retorted, and for a second, his wings rose up, arching high above his head before he drew them back in. "This is about Sam. It's ridiculous to not use all the help we can get."

"I — I'm sorry." A voice broke into the bickering, and for the first time, Alex noticed the woman who stood at Dean's side. She was almost a head taller than Alex, and over ten years her senior, but the young angel couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity at the sight of the blonde hair and round face. "Who is she?"

"I'm a friend," Alex retorted. "Who the hell are you?" The woman blinked, and Alex forced her wings to lie flat; she hadn't meant to snap, but Dean's anger had already managed to crawl so far under her skin that she hadn't noticed the placidity in the stranger's voice until it was too late. She cast a scowl towards the Winchester, a look he caught just as he was turning away.

"Uh, Mom, this is Alex." Dean nodded towards Alex. The gesture was sharp, but the angel paid it no attention; she was too busy mouthing the word 'mom?' "Alex, Mary."

"Mary as in Mary Winchester?" Alex shoved her grace out towards the woman, but all she found was a human soul. She turned her eyes between Dean and Castiel, but when she found no hint of deception on their faces, she reluctantly turned back to Mary, lips twisted in a quizzical frown. "You're supposed to be dead."

Dean's jaw ticked, his face darkening, but Mary merely forced a small smile. "Yes, that's, uh, that's what I've heard."

"Amara brought her back," Dean said, and Alex frowned at the abrupt and cryptic explanation. She waited, head tipped, but Dean had already turned to Castiel. "Alright, so I ran that tail number that the, uh, the driver gave us. The plane that evil Elsa flew in on has diplomatic registry."

"Wait," Alex interrupted, "so these people aren't American?"

"British." Dean's lips curled as he spoke, and Alex frowned: was the sneer meant for her or for the kidnappers? "And it means that the flight plans are sealed, unless you want to hack the State Department."

"Who are these people?"

"And why are we here?" Alex added over Mary's question, wings stretching out through the clearing in which they stood. "Did they pass through this place, because this is kind of out in the middle of nowhere." All she was met with was Dean's frown, and she turned her gaze off behind her, back towards the bustling marketplace. "What's over there?"

"Dr. Gregory Marion." Castiel answered her question, and his wings rustled as he started back towards the road. "We found the driver of the woman who took Sam. He said that he dropped them off at that man's house before he was sent away." Alex hurried after Castiel, and he finished, "He'll know where Sam is."

"Great. Point me to him." Alex stopped on the edge of the clearing, her eyes sweeping the gathered crowd. "I think —"

"Dean." Castiel spoke over her, and Alex turned at the sound of his wings bristling; the seraph's voice, however, concealed any emotion. His eyes were locked on a silver van that was coasting down the road, the words Dr. Marion and Veterinarian written on the door in yellow letters.

"Great. Let's go." Dean stalked past Alex, and the young angel's wings fluttered at the shoulder that crashed into hers. He led the way down the road, leaving Alex to hurry after him. The van had pulled into a driveway near the end of the street. Dean's hand went back, and the silver muzzle of his handgun flashed in the sun. Alex's own grace twisted, toying with the angel blade tucked inside her jacket, but Castiel's hand on her arm stopped her from drawing it.

The veterinarian had circled around to the side of his parked van, oblivious to their presence as he unloaded a large bag of dog food and slung it across his shoulder. He started towards the front door of his clinic, clearly marked by the white wooden sign, and Dean surged forward. His boots scuffed on the gravel driveway, and the man's head perked up, but the warning came too late as Dean pressed the muzzle of his gun into the back of the man's neck. "Dr. Marion." His voice was little more than a growl, and Alex felt Castiel's hand fall away as the seraph cast a wary look around. "How about you let us in?"

The dog food fell to the ground, kibble spilling across the grass as the bag split open. "I don't — I don't want any trouble," the man spluttered out. "Whatever you want, take it."

"We want information." Alex stepped up to Dean's side, and Dr. Marion's head craned to catch sight of her over his shoulder. "Where's Sam?"

"W-Who?"

Alex's grace snapped out, unlocking the clinic door, and she shoved Dr. Marion away from Dean's gun and through the doorway. "Sit down," she ordered, and the man dropped down into a wooden chair with a bump. "Sam Winchester. Tall guy — you can't miss him." The man's face paled, and Alex glanced back toward Castiel before she added, "Might have been with a woman. Where is he?"

"I don't — who are you?" The doctor jumped as Mary slammed the door behind her, leaving him alone with the four strangers. His eyes darted over to Dean, widening at how the hunter's finger toyed with the metal trigger guard, and his nails dug into the wooden arms of his seat. "Okay, okay, I swear I don't know anything. They just showed up yesterday morning, and she had this guy in the trunk with a — with a bullet in his leg. S-She told me to remove it and suture the wound, and after that, they just left. I swear, that's all I know."

Dean stepped forward to Alex's side, his shoulders rolled back as he took command. "So, you dug a bullet out of his leg, no questions asked?"

"She offered me a hundred grand."

"And you took it?" Mary asked, and Alex stepped aside to let the woman brush her way forward, a scornful note tinging her words.

Dr. Marion huffed, a sound more fearful than scoffing. "Student debts were a bitch, okay?"

Feathers rustled as Castiel's wings snapped up, and his grace crackled through the air as he stepped forward, stopped only by Dean's hand that jumped forward to catch his shoulder. "Hey, Cas!" He held the seraph back with a shake of his head, his voice a growl. "Don't hurt him. Not yet."

The glint in Castiel's eyes was enough to have Dr. Marion gulping, an audible gasp for air. "Alright, l-look," he insisted. "She didn't give me her name, okay? When we were done, the driver bailed, I got paid, and then some other chick showed up and they all drove away."

He ended with a shaky shrug, and Alex's gaze flattened. "And that's everything you know?" she pressed. "There's nothing else."

"Yeah, totally." The man shrugged again, and his eyes flickered towards the door.

Two steps carried Alex past Dean and to Dr. Marion's side, and she drew the thin thread of Lucifer's grace upwards as she hauled the man to his feet, her hands buried in his shirt. "Alex." That was Castiel, but Alex fended him off with tattered wings.

"He's lying." Alex forced the words out through gritted teeth and, somehow, she managed to lift Dr. Marion from his feet; there wasn't much of the archangel's grace to draw on, and she felt her strength falter as she drew it taut to the point where it felt on the edge of tearing. The action sent pinpricks of fire rushing down her arm, but she was rewarded as the doctor let out a strangled shout as his toes left the ground.

"Ahh!" Hands clasped around her wrist, trying to pry her free, but Alex didn't budge. "Okay, okay! I have her phone number, okay? Look!" Alex's grace gave way, and the doctor fell to the ground, the thud of his body masking the gasp of her pain. He scrambled away, arms outstretched to keep her back. "Look, look, look. I don't — I don't know where they are, but she called me a couple hours ago — a few hours ago, asking about the sedative I gave the guy. So ... I have her number."

"Her number. Good." Alex stepped back on shaky legs, ushering Dean forward with a sweep of her wings. "Why don't you call her for us?"

Dr. Marion fumbled for his phone, and a hand came to rest on Alex's shoulders; the young angel's wings instinctively flattened at the sharp squeeze of Castiel's fingers. "Why do her eyes do that?" Mary murmured the question up to Castiel, and Alex's eyes stretched wide as she quickly reined Lucifer's grace back in. It gladly retracted, burying itself back within her like a crab in the sand. "She's not human, is she?"

"She's an angel," Castiel said; the slight compression of his words were the only visible sign of the emotion that had his wings flittering.

"Like you."

"Sort of." Castiel paused, his lips parted to elaborate, but he fell silent as his gaze turned back on Dr. Marion.

The veterinarian was on the phone, his fist clenching and unclenching as he spoke. "Yeah, I'm just calling, you know, to check up on the patient." A slight jerk of Dean's gun had the man lowering his phone, and the woman's voice emanated from the speaker.

"Is everything alright, doctor?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Dr. Marion swallowed, and his adam's apple bobbed as he cast a nervous glance towards Alex and Dean. "Definitely."

"Hm." The frown was clear in the stranger's thin, melodic accent. "I'm hanging up now."

Dean surged forward to snatch the phone out of Dr. Marion's hand, switching it off of speaker and pressing it against his ear in one swift motion. "Listen, bitch," he hissed, and the veterinarian jumped out of the way as Dean stepped past. "I don't know who you are, I don't care what you want. You have my brother."

The response was muffled, and Alex lifted her own grace upwards to eavesdrop. "— Winchester. I heard you were dead."

"Well, you heard wrong. Now, I'm gonna give you one chance — just one — to hand Sam back." Dean's fingers tightened around the phone, and Alex withdrew her grace as Dr. Marion tried to creep past her, retreating to the corner of the room. "You think you can run from me? Try it. Because when I find you — and I will find you — if he's not in one piece, I will take. you. apart. You understand me?"

The click of the line was the answer, and Dean's face darkened as he pulled the phone away from his ear. His hand tightened, and the phone snapped in two, sending shards of glass flying to the ground. The faint tinge of blood lined the air, and Alex's wings flicked displeasingly as she took a step forward. "We can trace the number," she said. "They can't hide for long."

Dean didn't answer, and Alex stepped back as he dropped the phone and stalked out of the veterinary clinic. Mary was quick to follow suit, leaving Castiel to take up the rear. His wings brushed across Alex's back, a small and hesitant touch, and Alex reluctantly shook out her wings as she followed.

The Impala sped down the road, bumping and jostling over the cracked pavement of the country road. Alex curled her fingers around the door handle as she slid towards the center, and she pulled herself back to the side with a frown. Castiel sat beside her, his ragged wings folded against the leather seats. Every so often they would twitch, brushing against hers, and the young angel shifted as the car lurched around a corner. "Hey, slow down, Dean," she finally snapped, drawing her wings in closer. "We're not gonna find Sammy any faster if you roll the damn car."

"Hey, how about you shut up?" Dean retorted, and Alex held back a sharp, indignant huff. "No one invited you along, alright?"

"Cas invited me. And even if he hadn't, I'd still be here because I want to find Sam. So why don't you just cram your complaints up your ass and deal with me!"

Dean scowled in the rearview mirror, and Mary looked over at her son from where she sat beside him. For a second she was quiet, studying his face before she spoke. "I don't get it, Dean. What's the problem?" Her eyes turned nack onto Alex, and the angel's wings twitched disparagingly at Dean's scoff. "Alex seems like a nice girl." Her gaze flickered onto Dean and then back to her, adding, "For a hunter."

Alex watched as Castiel's wings drooped, weighed down with frustration as Dean scoffed yet again. "The problem?" he repeated. "She went chasing after the devil when the world was ending. She had a choice between us and Lucifer, and she chose him." He yanked the steering wheel to the side, and the car screeched around the embankment.

"It wasn't that simple, Dean, and you know it." Alex crossed her arms, fighting back against the anger quickly rising in her tone. "Your plan to stop Amara — it was stupid, and I still don't get how it worked! I left because Lucifer was out there, probably hurt and extremely pissed off, and I figured that if somehow the world didn't end, someone should probably stop him from —"

A brick wall hit her, throwing her across the car. There was a scream, but the sound was muffled beneath the shattering glass and cracking metal as a black SUV slammed into the Impala's side. There was a squeal of tires as both vehicles screeched to a halt, and Alex's wings snapped out as her skull hit the window.

Lucifer's grace roiled inside of her, ice rushing through her veins as it swelled in alarm, and Alex pulled herself off of Castiel and through the broken window, growling out her pain as she sprawled on the pavement. Her hands were wet, red with blood from wounds already healed. Someone was calling her name — certainly not Dean. Alex pushed herself to her knees, eyes turning back towards the wreckage. Cas and Dean had jumped out of the car; Castiel was at her side, and Dean was yanking open the car door. "Mom?"

"What the fuck?" Alex grabbed on Castiel's arm as she hauled herself to her feet. Her grace instinctively rushed into him, but she found no source of pain or bleeding; he had escaped unscathed. "Who hit us?"

Castiel stepped away, his attention turning down onto Mary. She was sprawled across her seat, blood dripping from a small cut on her head, and the seraph's hand hovered over her chest. "She's unconscious, but there's no serious damage," he reported, but Alex barely heard, her attention on the SUV that had t-boned them. A woman had stepped out of the front seat — at least Alex thought it was a woman; the sharp nose and the high brow made it difficult to tell.

"Dean Winchester, I presume." The woman's eyes moved past Alex with barely a spared look, and Alex pursed her lips at the terse British accent. "You should be more careful with your location services on your phone."

Dean moved to Alex's side, his fists balled. "Are you one of them?"

"Of course she's one of them," Alex snapped, scrubbing at her bloody forehead with the back of her hand. "Listen to her talk, Dean. " Lucifer's grace had retreated out of sight, and she staggered a step forward before she had to catch her balance, hand planted against the crumpled back panel of the Impala.

The woman's eyes flashed, but her angular face remained set in stone. "I'm one of them," she said, and Dean stalked forward. Alex straightened up, ready to follow, but Castiel held her back with a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah." Dean grabbed the woman by the collar of her shirt, pulling her close. "You tell me where my brother is, and I might take it easy on you," he hissed, his face level with hers.

The woman smirked, her dark, beady eyes narrowed. "Oh, please don't." She yanked herself free as a hand flew up, and gold flashed through the air as she punched Dean square in the jaw. The Winchester jumped back with a shout, a sound that was cut short by a second blow just below his diaphragm.

The woman threw Dean down to the ground, sweeping his legs out from under him with a kick, sending Dean down onto the pavement with a heavy thud. Alex's wings snapped up, broken feathers fanning outwards as she dropped her angel blade down into her hands. "Hey!" The sight of the weapon badly slowed their attacker down. Alex swung her blade upwards, a weak attack as she rocked up onto the balls of her feet, waiting for her opponent's defensive response.

What she hadn't expected was a fist directly to her ribcage. The punch sent shockwaves through her grace, and Alex's fingers went slack. Her weapon clattered to the ground, but the sound was lost to her beneath the fluttering of her feathers and the breathless gasp that forced its way past her lips. Alex's empty hands balled into fists, and she stumbled back, planting her feet as she prepared a defense, but the woman was quicker, and a second blow to the face sent Alex to the ground. Her grace felt numb — paralyzed — and she looked up in time to see the flash of bronze on the woman's hands as she rounded on Castiel. Enochian sigils were carved into the brass knuckles, and Alex pinched her bleeding nose as she reached for her weapon, discarded five feet away.

Castiel grunted, a tell-tale sign that he was receiving the same brutal treatment. Alex pulled herself forward on her elbows, reaching for her blade, but a foot came out of nowhere, crushing her outstretched hand against the pavement. Bones crunched, and Alex hissed through clenched teeth. Her weapon was kicked away, skittering under the car.

By this point, Dean had scrambled to his feet, and the woman stepped forward, leaving Alex to draw her hand back with a pained scowl. Her fingers burned, the knuckles broken, and she curled inwards, teeth clenched, as she urged her grace to heal. "Looking for this?" The woman was holding Dean's gun, taunting him with it, and Alex rocked back onto her heels, fighting through the buzzing in her ears. A gun. She fumbled back for her own handgun, shoving her numbed grace against her broken fingers as she sought out the trigger.

The shot echoed through the air, ringing among the trees. A second later, the woman collapsed to the pavement, clutching at her knee with both hands. Dean's gun clattered across the road, kicked away from her reach by Dean himself, and Alex glanced back at Castiel. The seraph's face was bruised, and a ring of broken and bleeding skin sat beneath his eye, inflicted by the sharp corners of the woman's brass knuckles. "Are you okay?" Worry tinged his voice as he crossed to her side, one hand extended to help her to her feet.

Alex grunted as she accepted his help, wincing at the pain as her broken fingers clutched his wrist. She could feel his grace flinch at the contact of their skin, but nothing flitted through his eyes. "I'm fine." Alex straightened her shirt with a frown that covered her grimace. "You look a lot worse than I do." She gently probed at her nose with her good hand; her grace was beginning to tingle as the numbness wore off, and she could feel Lucifer's grace begin to swell, icy cold. Her eyes darted across the road, half-expecting the archangel to appear. "Uh, it's a good thing I still carry this," she added quickly, forcing a weak grin as she shoved her weapon back into her jeans.

Castiel didn't answer, and Alex shifted her eyes onto Dean. "Where's Sam?" The Winchester had retrieved his gun, and its hammer clicked as he swung it down towards the stranger. The question was met with scornful silence, and his eyes flashed, green fire.

There was a groan from behind them, and Alex twisted back towards the Impala in time to see Mary begin to stir. Castiel's eyes flickered over to Dean, a silent question in his gaze; he must have received an answer, because the look lasted barely a moment before he was returning to the car, his crumpled wings rustling in the breeze. "What's your name?" Alex turned back to the woman, her jaw setting at the cold, flat eyes that narrowed in disdain.

"Watts." This time the answer came, cool and crisp, and Alex's eyes dropped down to where her hands were wrapped tightly around her knee; despite her best efforts, blood seeped through her fingertips.

"Watts." Alex tested the name out on her tongue as she curled her lip. Movement in the corner of her eye had her attention flickering to the side to see Mary step out of the Impala with Castiel's aid; she could feel the tension in Dean's soul release at the sight. "Alright, I'll tell you what." Alex forced her gaze back onto Ms. Watts. "If you tell us where Sam is, we'll make this painless. If not ... then I'll take a crack at it." It took some effort on the part of her grace, but she managed to draw on Lucifer's, letting it course through her veins until her eyes glowed with its light. "And I'll make sure you feel every second of it until I decide to rip your soul right out of your throat."

"Wait." Mary moved forward, supported still by Castiel, and Alex let the light fade. "You can't kill her!"

Alex's feathers bristled, and she forced them to lay flat. "She's their bulldog — they sent her to kill us. Dean tried asking nicely, but clearly they don't want to play ball and give Sam back."

"Well, we have one of theirs now." Mary stepped away from Castiel; she was favoring her right side, but she still stood steady. For a moment she was silent, eyes taking in the woman who knelt at gunpoint. "Why don't we see if we can set up a trade?"

"Might be worth a shot," Dean finally agreed, and Alex let out a begrudging huff. Lucifer's grace coiled within her, a silent yet persistent question, and then, her phone rang.

Alex retrieved it with a frown. The screen was flashing with an unknown number from an unknown area code, and her fingers moved to block the number, but the faint shift of Lucifer's grace had her pausing. Her eyes turned across her companions, heat rising to her cheeks to find three sets of eyes on her; only Ms. Watts was turned away, her attention still fixed defiantly upon Dean. Frown deepening, Alex shook her phone, mumbling out, "I gotta take this," before she retreated to the other side of the cars. "Uh, hello?"

"What's going on with your grace?" An unfamiliar voice spoke, sharp and terse, and Alex's wings fell low as Lucifer's grace twisted within her.

"It's nothing. I'm fine." Alex dismissed the concern, quickly drawing up her wings with a glance back towards Castiel. Thankfully, the seraph's attention had already turned elsewhere. "Sounds like you found a vessel. How did you get my number?"

"I saw it in Castiel's head." The amusement in Lucifer's voice was palpable. "I'm a being of primordial creation. I think I can memorize nine numbers."

Alex's eyes drifted back towards Mary and Dean; their lips were moving, deep in conversation, but Alex didn't bother to listen in. "Never said you couldn't," she muttered, toeing at the shattered glass that lined the pavement. "Is everything okay? Why are you calling?"

There was a pause, a barely there hesitation that had Alex frowning. "Just checking in," came the answer. "What did you do — get in a fight or something?"

"Exactly that, yeah." Alex forced a small shrug that she knew he couldn't see. "One of the people who took Sam — they had some weapon that packed a hell of a punch even against me and Cas. Nothing sharp," she was quick to add as Lucifer's grace seemed to tighten around hers. "Just a pair of enchanted brass knuckles or something. Whatever magic they were laced with, it seemed to stun my grace a bit. Don't worry about me," she finished, and she looked down at her hand, flexing that broken fingers that her grace had already begun knitting back together. "It's wearing off."

She could hear the frown in the silence that followed, but when Lucifer spoke again, his voice contained nothing but curiosity. "Do you need me?"

Need you? Alex brushed off her confusion with a twitch of her wings. "We should be fine," she half-lied with a glance back towards Dean; he and Mary were still talking, oblivious to her, but Castiel's eyes were angled in her direction. "I don't think you being here would make anything easier," she added, turning away to hide her face. "You should just focus on getting stronger."

She didn't wait for a response before she hung up, shoving her phone deep into her back pocket as she turned around. Dean was on the phone, his shoulders hunched and his face dark. Castiel stood beside Ms. Watts a few steps away, and Alex crossed to his side. "Was that him?" Castiel asked.

Alex nodded, casting a wary glance at Mary who stood, listening, a few feet away. "Yeah, it was. He offered to help," she added after a moment's pause, "but I told him to rest. He's still pretty weak. Amara really did a number on him." Her eyes flickered off towards Dean. "What's the verdict?"

The sound of a phone smashing against the pavement came as an answer. "They must not want her," Mary said, and Alex looked down at Ms. Watts; her face remained as hard and as stoic as it ever had been. "Now what?"

"I guess now we can beat it out of her." Alex flapped her wings as she rounded on the prisoner, and she felt Castiel's hand reach out to grasp her shoulder.

"I don't think you should do it." Displeasure darkened his eyes, and Alex let her wings fall, head tipping as she looked over at him. "We need information now."

And we can't risk you getting carried away. The slight twitch of his lips made his unspoken message clear, and Alex tugged gently on Lucifer's grace as she stepped back to make room. "Fine," she ground out through a clenched jaw. "Make it quick." She settled back behind him, her arms folded across her chest as Dean joined them on the side of the road. "I did shoot her, so I get the right to kill her," she added under her breath.

Dean's hands tightened into fists as he stopped next to Castiel. "I'll take first crack at her." One hand came up to rub at his jaw, carefully skirting a dark bruise that was already blooming across his skin. "She'll talk one way or another."

The threat barely seemed to phase the woman. "You think you can scare me?" She leaned forward with a disdainful sniff, her dark eyes glittering as she looked between the four. "I've had extensive training in withstanding even the most extreme forms of torture known to man, both physical and psychological."

"Good thing two of us aren't human, then." Alex motioned Castiel near with a twitch of her wingtips. "Look," she began, just loud enough for Ms. Watts to overhear, "if we want this done quick and right, maybe we should call in an expert."

"You mean Lucifer." Dean's voice was flat, and Alex drew in a steady breath to keep her feathers from bristling.

"Yeah, Lucifer. Or Crowley, if you'd prefer," she retorted. "Both are more than capable of getting anything we need out of her."

Dean's eyes darkened, and his lips parted in a scowl, but Castiel spoke before he could. "I can do it." Displeasure marred his face, but his voice remained placid. "I've tortured for heaven before." He looked over at Dean, and a silent conversation passed between the two of them. Dean nodded, and Alex frowned as Castiel turned towards Ms. Watts.

"Whatever you want," she muttered under her breath, but she couldn't help the prickle of relief that tugged at her stomach. She circled back around Dean, her eyes drifting onto the black sedan still pressed into the side of the Impala. The knot around Castiel's grace shifted as the seraph's grace began to swell. Lucifer's own grace rose alongside it, twisting in displeasure at the intrusion, and Alex shook out her wings as she crossed over to the car. She pulled Lucifer's grace tighter around hers; it initially resisted, pulled taut by the distance, before it flooded through her veins. The world seemed to slow as her blood froze, a sensation that lasted mere moments before it faded away. You thought that was powerful? The memory of Lucifer's words echoed through her mind. It's just a small fraction of what I am.

Alex grabbed the bumper and hefted the back wheels upwards. The metal frame groaned, and Alex grit her teeth as she began to haul the sedan away from the Impala. She heard a scream, and a look to the side showed Castiel, alight with his grace, with one hand embedded in the woman's chest. "Careful." The weight of the truck made Alex's voice gruff and hoarse, and Ms. Watts' scream died as Castiel paused. "One of us is going to kill her, and I've got first dibs."

She dropped the sedan by the side of the road with a grunt, wiping her hands off on her jeans as she watched Mary's face darken. "We don't have to kill her," she started. "If we torture and kill, how are we any better than they are?"

"Better?" Ms. Watts scoffed, a sound made less convincing by the hoarse note of pain. "You American hunters will never be like us —" She cut off with a cough, and Alex watched her spit up a mouthful of blood. "Dirty, bloody hunters. You're no better than the very things you claim to hunt."

Alex brushed past Dean to crouch down in front of Ms. Watts. "Oh, I'm not pretending to be better than anyone." She let Lucifer's grace rise up, burning in her eyes. "The only thing I care about right now is finding Sam, and if I get to break a few skulls along the way ... lucky me."

She felt Castiel's hand on her back, resting tentatively between the shoulders of her wings, and she pushed herself to her feet with a click of her tongue. Turning back, she saw the same burning rage within her darken Dean's eyes. A shriek filled the air as Castiel once more set to work, and Alex returned to the sedan with a snarl. She could feel Castiel's reluctance, so strong that not even the shield Lucifer had constructed could hold back the flood.

The shrieks turned into screams as Alex planted her hands against the dented bumper. A stretch of trees lined the side of the road, their branches low and thick enough to conceal the car. "Dean." Alex waved the hunter over with a jerk of her chin. "Help me get this off the road." She waited for Dean to join her before she started to push. Gravel cracked and popped beneath the tires as it rolled off the pavement and onto the soft dirt, and with one last push, the sedan rolled down the small ravine among the trees with a crash. "Thanks."

Dean merely grunted, and Alex rolled her eyes as he returned to his mother without a word. She followed the sedan down the small ditch, pulling the undergrowth back up as she went. Broken branches lay in the car's wake, and she propped them up against the trunk to hide the black paint from sight.

"Alex." It was Castiel's voice that had her pausing from her task, and the angel's wings flittered as she turned around, head tipped as she listened. The air was still; the screaming had stopped.

"Are you done?" Alex scrambled up out of the ditch, eyes seeking out the crumpled form of Ms. Watts. "Did she talk?"

"Not exactly." Castiel's wings brushed against her side before they quickly drew back; his eyes darted to the ground, and when they returned to her, his face was blank with forced neutrality. "I had to fight my way into her mind." His gaze turned down onto the unconscious woman before moving over to Dean. "Even then I only got a small glimpse. They're keeping Sam in a farmhouse just off of Route 49."

"And that's all we could get out of her?" Alex circled past Dean to crouch in front of Ms. Watts. "She won't say anything else?"

"I think that should be plenty." Mary spoke up from behind her, and Alex paused, her hand outstretched. "Route 49 isn't far from here. If I remember the maps correctly, it intersects with this road in the middle of a small town. If we split up, we can cover more ground."

Alex turned her eyes between Dean and Castiel, asking their advice. Castiel remained silent, and Dean's gaze wavered, only hardening when Ms. Watts began to stir. "Alright," he relented. "Mom, you and I will go and head west. Cas, take Alex and go east."

Castiel nodded. "We're looking for someplace isolated, overgrown. It's a two-sided house with white siding." He turned his eyes up and down the road, pausing on the half-hidden sedan as he thought. His lips parted, but there was a beat of silence before he shook his head. "You said there was a town ahead that route 49 cuts through," he said, and Mary nodded. "Alex and I can find a car there."

"Great. That just leaves one loose end." Alex dug her fingers into Ms. Watts hair, hauling her head up off of the pavement. Lucifer's grace rose up, freezing the rage inside of her, and Alex's fingers tightened into fists. "Any last words?"

"If you kill me, my people will hunt you down." Ms. Watts leaned forward, and Alex curled a lip as the rasped words sent blood droplets flying into her face. "So do your worst."

"I wish I had the time." Alex drew in Lucifer's grace and let it run down her hand — a trickle at first — before it swelled, burning away at the nerves as it consumed the woman before her. Ms. Watts screamed, and her eyes shone with the light of Lucifer's grace.

There was a sickening pop, and Lucifer's grace vanished from within her, yanked away with such a force that it left Alex swaying on her feet. Ms. Watt's scream died as the light left her eyes, and Alex let the body fall to the pavement. She clicked her tongue, stepping back in hopes to hide her unsteadiness. Behind her, Mary had turned away, her eyes shut. Dean's face remained as dark as ever, and Castiel's face was unreadable; Alex's grace jumped within her, wanting to reach out and read his mind, but she forced it back. "Take care of the body." Dean spoke first, turning away from the corpse. "I need to make sure Baby still starts."

He walked away, Mary close on his heels, and Alex frowned after them. Neither looked back and, with a shrug, Alex reached down, drawing in a deep, steadying breath before she hoisted the body up onto her shoulders. "We can put her down by the car," she decided, and her broken wings flicked under the dead weight. Castiel remained silent, and Alex paused at his side. "You okay?"

"Do you ever stop to think about the people we kill?" Castiel's eyes lingered on the body before he turned away. "They've had a whole life leading up to this very moment. Family, loved ones —"

"They're no better than anything else we kill without a second thought." Alex stretched out her wings for balance as she started down the steep, rocky ditch. She heard the Impala roar to life behind her, and she glanced back to see if Castiel was following. He was. "Everyone — everything — has their own story. I can't always stop that from killing when I have to." She pushed her way through the undergrowth, lips pursed as brambles pulled at her jeans. "Finding Sam is my priority. Everything else comes second." She dumped the body into the bushes, brushing her hands off on her jeans as the Impala's horn blared. "Come on. The sooner we find a car, the sooner we can find Sam."

Fifteen minutes found Alex sitting in the front seat of a tan Silverado. Her fingers toyed with the worn seat belt as the scenery sped by the dusty window, and her eyes were locked on the power lines that raced alongside the car. Castiel sat beside her in the driver's seat, as still and placid as any of heaven's angels, but Alex could feel the tension that prickled at his wings. "So." Alex broke the silence, but she kept her eyes on the side of the country road, straining to catch sight of any homes through the line of trees. "What business do the Brits have with Sam, huh?"

"I don't know." Out of the corner of her eye, Alex saw Castiel's fingers adjust their grip on the cracked leather steering wheel. "They seem quite knowledgeable about angels. The weapon that woman had was inscribed in Enochian."

"Yeah, I noticed." Alex rubbed at her jaw; the bruise was long gone, but the memory still remained. "She said something about 'her people.' Is there like a British group of hunters that have something against us?" Castiel didn't respond, and Alex tore her gaze away from the road. The seraph's face was unreadable, but his wings were drawn in tight, and Alex reached down, instinctively reading for his grace to probe deeper; a second thought had her reluctantly pulling back. "It's not your fault Sam is gone," she began. "You couldn't have —"

"I don't blame myself," Castiel said, shaking his head, and Alex frowned. "But I should have known something was wrong if I hadn't been ... distracted." His broken feathers twitched, and the lines on his face deepened before relaxing back into apathy. "I see Lucifer has attempted to draw apart our bond again."

Alex's eyes turned back out the window as her fingers fiddled with the seatbelt across her lap. "You can feel it?" she asked, quickly adding, "Farmhouse," as a dirt driveway came into view.

Castiel's eyes slid past her to examine the structure, but the truck didn't slow, and the yellow rambler disappeared from sight. "I can sense you when you're right beside me, but when you leave, he's all that I can feel." Castiel's wings twitched, a barely stifled shudder. "How can you stand it? Stand him?"

Alex dug her teeth into her cheek, ready to snap, but no malice lined the seraph's voice. Only frustration and disbelief. "I like it," she finally admitted, forcing neutrality into her tone. "It's ... calming, I guess." She turned her eyes back out the window, scanning the horizon for the next house. "I didn't know you could feel him, too. I can try and get him to let up —"

"He won't." Castiel shook his head, and Alex fell silent with a sigh. "I think he's made that very clear."

"Sorry." Alex reached down to try and find Lucifer's grace, but the distance had pulled it thin, barely there. She felt the truck slow, and she looked up to see a winding dirt driveway that traversed a closed bull gate. The engine died as the car stopped, and Alex followed Castiel out onto the dirt, her wings prickling. "Is this it?"

"Maybe." Castiel started down the path, and Alex followed with a thin shrug. "We need to get closer." He led the way around the bull gate, and Alex drew her wings in close as she slipped after him, eyes turning across the trees that lined the driveway.

It led up to a two story white farmhouse, partially hidden from the road by the thick foliage. The windows were dusty, but Alex could make out black-inked sigils on the panes. "That's not normal." Her wings flittered as she paused on the edge of the tree line. "You can see those wardings, too, right?"

"Yes." Castiel's phone was already in his hands, and Alex settled down against a tree. Her wings curled forward as her grace stretched out, trying to probe beyond the walls of the home, but the wardings pushed her back. She leaned forward, eyes scanning for a way in, but Castiel's hand on her shoulder had her turning away. "We can't get in," he said before his attention turned back onto his phone. "I think I may have found Sam's location," he relayed. "It appears empty. No, I haven't been inside. It — It's powerfully warded."

"Powerfully warded?" Dean's voice rose through the phone, and Alex perked up her ears. "Okay, see, buddy, that — that was your headline right there."

"Are we still discussing the same thing?" Alex let Castiel's voice slip into the background as she turned her gaze back to the house, and she reached down to tug on Lucifer's grace — the warding may be too strong for her, but maybe not for an archangel ... if only his grace wasn't so difficult to draw on. A wingtip caught her on the shoulder, snapping her from her thoughts. "They'll be here in five minutes." Castiel returned his phone to his pocket, his eyes darting towards the farmhouse. "We'll have to wait until they arrive. We can't break that warding on our own."

"Too bad we killed that woman." The thought was spoken blandly, unregretful, and Alex let her wings flitter to flatten her feathers. "She might have known a way in."

She dropped down onto the log of a fallen tree and, after a moment, Castiel stepped up beside her. "Do you wish you hadn't killed her?" Alex snorted, and the log creaked as Castiel joined her. "I didn't offer to torture her because I thought you were incompetent," he began, and Alex cast him a sidelong glance as his voice grew low. "I think you're ... more than capable."

The words lingered in the air, and Alex paused, waiting for more to come. "But?" she prompted. "Why'd you volunteer then?"

"Because I didn't want you to." Castiel's eyes remained fixed on the structure up ahead. "When I first met you, you were so innocent. So ... pure. To believe you were ever that young ..." His eyes locked onto hers, a burning blue flame. "Do you ever stop to think about where your choices are taking you? This path you're on — all this blood — if you're not careful ... you may find yourself as irredeemable as Lucifer."

Alex bristled, and her grace crackled through the air. "What does that mean?" she snapped, searching Castiel's face, but all she found was concern. Nothing but genuine concern. "There's nothing 'irredeemable' about him," she added, and her arms folded across her chest. "The angels — heaven — that's just the word they use when they don't want you anymore." Her anger sunk into sullenness, and her arms hugged her tight. "I think we're already irredeemable in their eyes."

Silence fell, the only sound the wind whispering through the trees, and Alex's wings drew in when Castiel's grace pulled away from her, burying itself deeper into his own body. With a sigh, she turned her eyes back onto the house even as her mind turned inwards. Lucifer? She tried to follow his grace upwards, but the link was too weak, too thin, and Alex reluctantly let it go.

Castiel sat beside her, still as a stone. Every minute or so, his grace would twitch, and Alex watched him from the corner of her eye almost as much as she watched the farmhouse ahead of them. Sitting so closely, feathers almost brushing, she was painfully aware of his grace within her. It pulsed with life, flowing like a river's current and, for a moment, Alex closed her eyes, losing herself in the warmth of the sun on her skin and the warmth of his grace in her veins. The sensation lasted but a second before her eyes snapped open. Sam was inside that house; now wasn't the time to get distracted. With a huff, Alex shifted, fingers digging into the hem of her jacket as she searched their surroundings for any sign of life. She knew Castiel could feel her agitation, but the seraph beside her only stirred when the familiar growl of the Impala's engine came from the road. "They're here."

He rose to his feet, and Alex followed close at his heels, a sudden rush of impatience twisting her grace into knots. A car door slammed and footsteps approached, crushing the fallen twigs that littered the dirt drive. "Alright." Dean appeared from among the trees, his eyes barely passing across the two angels before they sought out the house beyond. "Where's all this warding you mentioned?"

"It's hidden." Alex jerked a thumb over her shoulder, turning away when Dean's eyes darkened a shade. "But it's powerful. Cas and I won't be able to get in until it's broken."

"I'm gonna have a closer look." Dean started down the driveway; he had only taken two steps before he paused, his shoulders tensing as he turned back around. "Mom," he warned, and Marry stopped in her tracks. "I got this."

Mary's eyes darted towards the house, and her chin lifted as she took a step closer to her son. "You can keep me from driving, Dean. Not from hunting."

Dean shook his head, lips parted in the beginning of an argument, but nothing came. His gaze turned onto Cas, eyes stretching wide in silent persuasion, and there was a moment of hesitation before Castiel stepped forward. "We're locked out by the warding," he said. "We could use the extra set of hands should something else come up."'

The argument felt flat — the tight purse of Dean's lips said that much, but Mary's shoulders fell as she exhaled. "Thanks, Cas." Dean nodded towards Castiel, and Alex lingered back as his eyes darted over to her before quickly turning away.

Alex watched Dean cross the driveway and circle arouthe house, her wings rising only once he stepped out of sight. "He's not gonna break the wardings, is he?" The words were ground out, flat, and her fingers found a low hanging branch. Leaves fell to the ground, stripped away by blunt nails. "I don't trust him, Cas. We need help."

"No." Castiel's hand caught her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. "Alex, no."

"What is she talking about?" Mary circled around to stand at Castiel's side, her eyes flickering between the two angels. "Why wouldn't we want help?"

"Not her kind of help." Castiel's worn face was set into a grim line, and Alex couldn't help the grimace that tugged at her own lips. The seraph turned away, dropping her wrist, leaving Alex to scowl at his back. "Her recent ... acquaintances ... have proven themselves to be less than tactful."

Feathers fluttered as Alex's wings snapped out, but Castiel didn't look back. "Lucifer." Mary's eyebrows knit together. "You keep mentioning his name," she hastily added when Alex's frown turned onto her. "And I'm getting the feeling you mean the real Lucifer." Alex offered up a shrug, and Mary's gaze turned towards the house. "Dean told me what had happened," she began, "— about everything that's happened since I died — but he didn't mention anything about you. But the way he did it ... it's like he went out of his way not to say your name." Alex's eyes dropped to the ground, head turned away, and Mary's voice softened. "You don't do that to someone you don't care about."

The air pulsed with a cold chill, sharp and foreign, and Alex's head snapped up. "Someone's activated a warding," she said, crossing over to the tree line to peer out at the house; despite the twitching in her grace, the building remained silent and dark. She felt Mary's eyes flick away before returning to the back of her head, and the angel's wings twitched as the silence lengthened. "We — Dean and I — we used to be close," she finally said, reluctance dragging out each word, and her wings drew in tight around her. "A long time ago. I was eighteen, but he still saw me as a kid — someone he had to protect from all the evils that he had to grow up with. Swearing, drinking. Hunting. You name it." Her feet carried her forward, pacing along the tree line as she watched the house. "I don't think he could stand to look at me once I chose the greatest evil of them all."

"She wasn't born an angel." Castiel said, his voice so low Alex had to strain to hear. "She was human once, not long ago. She was ... young ... and inexperienced." There was a pause. "It was my fault she met Lucifer in the first place."

It's not your fault. "The wardings are still up." Alex broke in, voice raised. "Dean should have taken care of them by now." Her wings flapped twice, stirring up the leaves as she spun around. "I need to get closer."

"You can't." Castiel caught her by the shoulder. "If Sam and Dean —"

"You felt that — that something. Something's wrong, Cas. I know it is." Alex's wings flapped as she glanced back at the silent house, and she felt Castiel's grace withdraw as her impatience boiled over. "I have to get closer. I need to get in there."

Castiel frowned, and in that moment of hesitation, Mary stepped forward. "I'll go," she said, one hand raised. "You said it yourself," she insisted when Castiel opened his mouth, "neither of you can get close. And if Alex is right ..." Mary paused, and her chest rose and fell in a sigh that ended in a tight-lipped frown. "I should be the one to go."

"No. I promised Dean —"

The air seemed to twist, and both angels' eyes snapped towards the house. "You need to deactivate the wardings." Alex pushed herself in between Castiel and Mary, ushering Mary forward with her arms and wings. "Break them, erase them, cross them out — it should all work. Just find a way to let us in, and we'll go after Sam together."

Mary gave a quick, sharp nod, and then she left, hurrying across the grass towards the old farmhouse. "You shouldn't have let her go." Castiel stepped up to her side, and Alex's eyes rolled upwards. "Dean won't be pleased."

"She seems capable," Alex retorted. "Besides, I came here to save Sam, not to make Dean happy." She kicked at a broken branch, sending it skittering through the leaf litter. "I don't care what he thinks — it's not like I'm batting a hundred in his books these days." She watched as Mary disappeared from sight, and her nostrils flared as she pressed against the wardings once again, feeling around for some way — any way — inside.

"Calm down." The exasperation in Castiel's voice had Alex pausing, and her eyes slid down to her feet; when had she started pacing again? "You have to give her more than a minute."

"I hate this." Alex dropped down onto the fallen log, but she jumped back up a second later, the anticipation clawing its way beneath her skin. "I-I thought that when I was an angel, I wouldn't have to sit out like this." Her grey eyes flashed, and she planted a hand against the trunk of an old oak as she looked over at Castiel. "What if we're too late?"

Her eyes swung back towards the house, wings twitching as foliage crackled beneath Castiel's feet. She felt his hand come to rest on her shoulder, a light and hesitant touch, and she shoved what little remained of Lucifer's grace down into the pit of her stomach as her shoulders sagged. "If they wanted Sam dead, they would have killed him at the bunker." The hand fell away, but Castiel stayed near. "Whatever they want him for, they have reason to keep him alive —"

A gunshot echoed through the air, startling a crow that took off into the sky with a shrieking cry. "Shit." The tree bark cracked as Alex's nails sunk inwards to the soft cambium. "That came from inside."

"Alex." Castiel's hand caught her wrist as she stepped forward, and she turned, ready to snap, but the hum of a motor had her pausing. A black car was turning into the driveway, its windows tinted black, and Alex drew up on Lucifer's grace. The hand on her wrist tightened, and she reigned it back in with a growl, letting the light die from her eyes. The engine died next to the Impala, and there was a moment's pause before the door swung open.

"Castiel." A dark-haired stranger stepped out of the car, pausing only to straighten his black sport coat before adding, "And Evelyn."

"It's Alex," Alex corrected, and her weapon slid down into her hand as the corners of the stranger's lips twitched up in an apologetic smile. He wasn't tall, standing just below Castiel, but the arrogant light in his eyes and the musical note in his voice had her stepping forward with a hiss. "You're one of them, aren't you? Where's Sam?"

"That's why I'm here." The man's crisp accent grew thick with momentary disdain at the sight of her weapon, but other than that, he paid her blade no heed. "If the both of you are here, I'm sure that Dean Winchester isn't far behind. If you don't mind me asking: where is he?" His eyes lingered on Alex, and when the angel pursed her lips together, they slid past her onto the farmhouse. "Ah." There was a moment's pause before the eyes returned to her face. "You can put that away. I'm not here to hurt any of you. Quite the opposite, actually." He didn't wait for compliance before he stepped past her, calling out over his shoulder, "Are you coming?"

Alex hesitated only a second before she followed, casting a tight-lipped glance back toward Castiel. The seraph trailed after her, his wings drawn in tightly, and Alex pulled her weapon back up into her sleeve as she hurried up the gravel driveway. The stranger had stopped at the front door, where a large, circular warding had been drawn in white chalk. "Who are you?" she asked, eyeing the farmhouse with a frown; this close, she could feel the wardings humming with power. "And how do you know who we are?"

"British Men of Letters." The man scrubbed at the sigil with a wadded up handkerchief that he had produced from his jacket pocket. "My name's Michael Davies — you can call me Mick if you like."

"Great. Mick. And how do you know us?"

"We first learned of the Winchesters and their ... companions ... ever since they let Lucifer out of his box. As for you, we've known of your true identity since 2012. We've kept close tabs on all of you." The door swung open, and Mick glanced back at her. "Wait here one moment."

"Wait, what do you mean?" Alex peered into the house, but the wardings still pushed her out. She felt Castiel stop at her side, and she stepped back, head craned up towards the upper windows. "Dammit!" Castiel remained silent, and Alex caught him in the side with a wing. "Who the hell is this guy?" She looked up into the seraph's face, and she struggled against Lucifer's grace as it twisted within her, latching onto the turmoil in her chest. "Can we trust him?"

The house in front of them ceased its humming, and Castiel tipped his head. "He's powered down the wardings," he murmured, voice barely audible. "I think ... if he meant us harm, he would have gone in without us."

He stepped inside the house, and Alex followed, letting out a reluctant grunt in agreement to Castiel's assessment. There were footsteps above their heads, and a second later, Mick appeared at the top of the stairs. "Well? Come on." He led the way down the hall, and Castiel followed close at his heels.

What's wrong? Lucifer's voice had Alex pausing, and her head whipped around, half-expecting the archangel to be standing behind her.

Nothing. Alex brushed his concern away with an angered shake of her wings. I can't talk now. I'm busy. Lucifer's grace shifted, but he said nothing, and Alex hurried down the hall, ears straining for any signs of life. "Well played." Mick's voice came from around the corner, and Alex peered through a doorway to find him standing on a flight of descending wooden steps. Castiel stood at his side, and Alex ducked her head to peer past him into the basement beyond.

The basement — if it could even be called that — was incomplete; a concrete floor and bare wooden studs. The first person she saw was Dean, blood leaking from a small cut on his forehead. The second was Sam. He was chained to a metal chair, his arms wrenched behind his back. His brown hair was matted and damp, and his chest heaved in fast, pained breaths. "Sam!"

The Winchester's feet were bare, revealing red, blistering skin, and Alex pushed herself past Castiel, wings flaring out as she jumped down the rest of the stairs. Her ankles stung as she landed, but she didn't slow until she was at Sam's side. Blood stained his face, but his eyes lit up as she took his head in her hands. "It's okay," he promised, and Alex ran her fingers along the stubble that covered his cheeks. "I'm okay."

"Who did this to you?" Alex pressed her grace into him, seeking out and cataloging each injury that she healed. The chains that held him cracked beneath the force of her anger, clattering to the ground.

"I said it's okay." Sam's hands covered hers, and it took Alex a moment to realize that he was pushing her away.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean's loud voice came from beside Sam, and Alex rose to her feet, turning her eyes across the rest of the room as Mick descended to stand at the foot of the stairs. Mary Winchester stood off to the side, her eyes locked on her sons, but her feet seemed frozen to the floor. A gun was in her hand, and Alex's nostrils flared at the scent of fresh blood; not enough for a gunshot wound, but gunpowder still hung in the air. A corpse lay just behind Mary — not a corpse, Alex corrected as she watched the chest rise and fall. A woman, unconscious but alive.

Sam pushed a bit harder, and Alex complied with his insistence. She stepped back, one hand on Sam's shoulder as he staggered to his feet. "Who's she?" Alex flicked a wing down towards the strange woman, following the gesture with a point of her finger. She kept her voice low, barely audible beneath Mick's answer to Dean's question.

"Uh, British Men of Letters." Sam's gaze flickered onto Mick, and his voice grew impatient. "She wanted information about American hunters." He hobbled over to his brother, and Alex's eyebrows knit together at his words.

Mary had joined her sons, and Alex circled around behind them to crouch down beside the unconscious woman. She rolled her over onto her back, frowning down into the pale, young face. "Ah, Evelyn?" Mick's voice had her pausing, and Alex frowned with a muttered, "Alex," under her breath. "Don't worry about the Lady Bevell." The woman stirred below her, eyes flickering open with a low groan, and Alex rose to her feet with a disgusted flick of her wing. Her feet instinctively carried her back towards Castiel, but a glare from Dean had her circling around to stand on the other side of Mick. "What you were told is basically true." Mick's attention turned back onto the Winchesters. "We were keen on knowing about the two of you, seeing as you seem to be partially carrying on the Men of Letters' work here now that the American chapter is defunct."

By this point, the woman pushed herself up to her feet, one hand gingerly exploring a growing bruise across her cheek, and Dean's face darkened into a scowl. "So you sic your attack dog on us to what — say hi?"

Lady Bevell scoffed, but she fell silent when Mick glanced in her direction. "Well, part of our ... group suspects some kind of malfeasance among you American hunters," he said. "But no argument — Lady Bevell went too far." His eyes swung back onto Sam. "I deeply apologize." Sam shook his head, lips pursed in disbelief, and Mick's face grew cold. "She'll face consequences in London."

"I'll tell you what," Dean said, his voice cold. "Why don't you take a walk, and she can face those consequences right here and now?"

"No, she's ours." The faintest hint of a threat crept into Mick's voice, and Dean's jaw ticked. "We'll take care of her. Now." His attention widened to include the rest of the room. "I'm here to extend the olive branch. We want to work with you —"

"Let me ask you a question, uh — Mick, wasn't it?" Sam cut in, and the man fell silent as Sam motioned to himself and his brother. "Why would we believe any of this?"

"Lads ... if I wasn't sincere — if I meant you harm — there'd be a dozen ways I could've come in here and taken you all prisoner instead of being unarmed." His arms spread out to motion to Castiel and Alex. "Not to mention I powered down all the wardings in this shack so your attack dogs could come in. I reckon either of you could finish me off without breaking a sweat," he added, his head turning to either side to look at both angels. "Am I right?"

Alex merely grunted, but Castiel's face tightened. "I don't sweat under any circumstances."

Mick paused, and his eyes flickered across the seraph's stony expression before he reached into his pocket. "My number." He handed a business card to Castiel, who took it without a word. "Take your time, cool down, and just think it over. And what have you got to lose, except your worst nightmares?"

Silence followed his words, broken only when Sam shifted his weight with a small cough. "Come on." Dean's face grew cold as he spoke, and he stalked towards the stairs, brushing past Mick none-too-lightly in the process. Sam followed, a worried Mary close on his heels. Alex listened as they ascended, and she took up the rear behind Castiel, glancing backwards to watch the two Men of Letters exchange a silent look. The Winchesters were already by the Impala by the time that she stepped out of the house, and Alex lengthened her stride to join them before the doors opened. "Oh no." Dean stepped forward, one arm stretched out to stop her in her path. "You're not coming with. You made your choice, remember?"

Alex snorted, looking past the Winchester in search of Castiel; the seraph's eyes were downcast, seemingly enrapt by something on the ground. Mary was already in the backseat, her eyes trained on Dean. "I just want to make sure Sam's okay," Alex said, her voice as level as she could make it, "and then I'll be on my way."

"Cas can take care of it."

Alex opened her mouth, ready to snap, but Sam spoke first. "I'll be fine." He had paused beside the passenger door, leaning up against the frame as he looked between Alex and Dean. Alex's jaw snapped shut with a click, and the light in his eyes softened. "Just — just do what he says, okay? Don't worry about me."

"Too late." However, Alex stepped back, her wings falling down to her side as she watched the Winchesters get into the car. The engine roared to life, and tires kicked up dirt as it sped back towards the road.

"Need a lift?" Mick's voice from behind her had Alex's feathers fluttering in surprise; she hadn't heard him walk up behind her.

"I can fly." Alex muttered the words under her breath; a sidelong look up into the man's face showed that the lie had fallen flat. She averted her gaze towards his black Buick, where the Lady Bevell was already seated in the backseat.

Mick's eyes followed hers, and he let out a low breath. "I'll make sure that Toni is punished according to the damages that she has caused. It's ... unfortunate that we had to meet under such tense circumstances, but I look forward to working with you in the future. All of you." Alex's eyes snapped up onto him, and the man's teeth flashed in a smile. A business card appeared in his hand, and the grin disappeared. "I'll see you around, Evelyn."

He walked away, leaving Alex to mutter, "Alex," at his turned back. She watched the Buick leave, and only once they were out of sight did she let her shoulders slump. She turned the business card over in her hands once, then twice, before she tucked it deep inside her jacket pocket. "Lucifer?" Her voice hung in the empty air, and she turned her eyes upwards onto the cloudless sky. "Are you there?"

Busy. Come find me when you can. A vague sense of direction pulled at her grace, and Alex glanced behind her with a heavy sigh. There went her ride. She could still hear the Buick's engine as it turned onto the main road, and she entertained the momentary thought of running after it before she quickly chased it away. The sound of the car disappeared, and Alex shook her head with a small scoff. Her gaze drifted onto the rusted brown pickup truck that she and Castiel had stolen, and her hands closed around the keys to her Marquis, warm from where they had been pressed against her thigh. If she was lucky, that truck could get her to the nearest bus stop, and from there ... her eyes turned to the western sky, where Lucifer's grace pulled her towards the horizon. From there, she just had to head west.