November 10th, 2014
Beulah, North Dakota

The smell of alcohol and sex permeated the air. Alex's fingers drummed impatiently on the greasy wooden table as she looked around the dim bar, grey eyes narrowed distastefully at what lay around her. Crowley sat at a table to her left, deep in conversation with two black-eyed demons, and the hunter cocked her head, trying to make out words, but the music drowned everything out, a raucous sound matched by an equally discordant voice. The lyrics were unclear, slurred and off-key, and the ex-angel's eyes flickered up to the black screen behind the karaoke machine. I'm Too Sexy. It was hard to believe that the song could undergo an even worse rendition than the original, and yet, somehow, it had.

Dean stood up on the stage, a microphone in one hand, a beer in the other, completely oblivious to his audience's discouraging gestures. "Turn it off!" a woman from the crowd yelled, but her jeering only spurred the demon to sing louder.

"Everybody!" he yelled, arms stretched wide, and Alex lifted her drink to her lips, welcoming the bitter burn. It was barely noon, but the hours were beginning to blur together; day or night, she was with Dean at the bar, drinking. She watched as the Winchester winked over at the waitress, and she turned to look back at Crowley, exasperation evident on her freckled face.

"Dean." She crooked her finger, beckoning the demon over as the song finished, and the Winchester joined her at the table, his step arrogant yet dutiful. He sunk into his chair, one arm slung over the back as he set his beer down. "Having fun?" She watched as his gaze continued past her, landing on the blonde waitress, and she tapped her fingers on the table. "Hey. Dude."

The Winchester shrugged, and a cocky grin spread across his face. "Not yet." He got back to his feet and brushed past her, and Alex's lips pursed together as he grabbed the bottle of whiskey that sat beside her half-empty glass on his way past. Today marked the end of the sixth week with the black-eyed Winchester, and while the two had started to fall into their roles, Dean still took any opportunity to make her babysitting job harder.

Alex turned back to Crowley, her nerves and the alcohol working together to bring a pout onto her face. "Can I go home yet?" She downed the rest of her drink before she slammed the glass down on the table, her pout maturing into a full-fledged frown. "It's been almost two months; I think Dean's going to fine without a leash."

Crowley lifted a finger to his lips, and Alex reluctantly fell quiet. No answer came, and when King of Hell turned back to his compatriots, Alex let her eyes drift across the bar's patrons in search of her charge. She caught a glimpse of plaid on its way towards the back door, and with a roll of her eyes, Alex pushed herself to her feet and followed.

The outside air was rank with exhaust, made worse by the putrid smell of alcohol and trash, but neither Dean nor the blonde waitress seemed to notice as they made their way across the street to the hotel where they had a room. Alex trailed behind them, eyes narrowing as she stepped out into the bright sunlight. The street was empty, surprisingly so for midday, but still she pulled her angel blade free from the back of her pants as she stepped forward, pebbles from the cracked pavement crunching beneath her feet.

Her phone rang, vibrating loudly within her pocket, and the ex-angel paused on far side of the road to answer it with a plummeting heart. "Hello, Sam."

"Alex? Where are you?" The sound of a book slamming shut partially drowned out the Winchester's voice, and Alex leaned up against a streetlight, twisting her weapon in her free hand.

"You know the rules," she chastised, exasperation lining her tone. "I shouldn't even be talking to you."

"It's been six weeks! You have to do something." Sam's voice grew quiet, and he added, "Have you spoken to Cas? I think — Alex, he's getting worse."

"Worse?" Concern sharpened Alex's voice, and she looked up and down the street to make sure there was no one to overhear as she hissed out, "What do you mean by worse?"

"It's his grace. I think it's fading, and he's fading with it." There was the shuffle of papers as Sam cleared away some of his work, and Alex could hear the deep frown in his voice. "He's been asking about you."

"I can't ..." Alex ran a hand across her forehead, indecision battling in her soul. "All I can ... shit. You think - do you think it's serious?"

"I don't know. He won't tell me, but from the way he sounds ..." Sam trailed off, unable to bring himself to finish his thought, and after a second, he cleared his throat. "Look, Pip ... I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do without your help. All I'm trying to do is help you and Dean, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. I understand." Alex looked back and forth across the street, and she dropped her voice into a low whisper. "Listen. All I can ... all I can tell you is that you should definitely not be tracing my call." She pausing, waiting for Sam catch on before she sighed, doing her best to stall so the Winchester could pinpoint her location. "Sam, I ... I just want to come home."

"Don't worry." Keys tapped on a keyboard, and in her mind, Alex could see the grin lighting up his face at the prospect of having a place. "We'll get you out of there. Just answer me this." His voice rose in anger, and Alex's eyes flickered close. "Why — why does Crowley have one of his demons parading inside of Dean? Huh? Why?"

"I don't know," she lied. "I don't know anything about that. You — you'd have to talk to Crowley. There's only so much information I can pass off in ignorance. Listen, Sam. I-I really need to go. You good?" Alex hung up the moment Sam voiced his confirmation, and she shoved the phone deep into her pocket as she entered the hotel. Her feet carried her up the stairs to their room, and her fist pounded on the wooden door as she cleared her throat, chin lifting as she prepared herself for confrontation. "Dean!"

"What?" The door was flung open, and Alex lifted her chin, unfazed by Dean's black eyes. "What do you want?"

"A chair." Alex motioned to where the wooden chair sat in the corner of the room. "If I'm going to spend the next hour sitting outside your door, I'd like to have something to spend it upon." She kept her eyes upwards, refusing to even give the Winchester the satisfaction of letting her gaze flicker down to his bare, toned chest.

She let her attention turn briefly to the woman in the bed before the flash of a chair in her periphery had her flinching away, barely avoiding the flying piece of furniture. "Hey!" she snapped, and her shoulders rolled back as she planted her hand against the door, refusing to let it shut. "Watch it, Winchester."

"Get out of here." The door slammed in her face, and Alex stuck out a tongue in a childish fashion before she stomped over to the fallen chair. Stupid Dean. Stupid demon. She placed the chair against the wall beside the door and took a seat, her body wincing internally as it recalled the familiar pain of a long night. Castiel? Alex lifted her head up towards the ceiling. Are you out there? Are you okay? She let out a small sigh as she settled down, arms wrapped protectively around her body as the human settled down for her watch. I'm going to find you soon, I promise. As soon as I can, I'll come. I love you.

Footsteps echoed down the empty hallway, heavy and familiar, and Alex's eyes flickered open in time to see Crowley appear in the corner of her eye. "Hey." She pushed herself to her feet, dragging her hand through her hair as she rose to face the King of Hell. "You're late."

"I've been busy." Crowley's gaze flickered to the door before returning to her. "You're still here, hmm?"

"Yeah. Old habits die hard." Alex jerked a thumb towards the door. "They're still in there — at least from what I heard five minutes ago, so ..." She rubbed her eyes as the demon pushed open the door, and her fingers came up to massage her sore shoulders as she listened to the noises of protest from the other room.

Crowley stopped dead in his tracks, and the air crackled with displeasure. " 'Whoa?' " he repeated. "What's going on here?"

"What does it look like?" came the response, the voice suave to overcome the original shock. Alex hung back, knowing the scene well: a naked Dean, an angry demon, a pointed conversation. And moment she stepped through that door, everything would immediately be directed at her.

"In my bed?" Crowley's voice rose in exasperation, and Alex rolled her eyes at Dean's unapologetic chuckle. "Jerk," the demon muttered, and the Winchester retorted with a well-timed, "Bitch."

"Get a room, you two." The floor creaked as a woman stepped closer to Crowley, and Alex caught the sight of a flash of blonde hair.

"Had a room," Crowley retorted, "until you two soiled it."

He stepped aside so the waitress could step through, her brown eyes sparkling with amusement. "Love you, Crowley."

"Love you more ... sweetheart."

"It's Ann-Marie, jackass." The blonde waitress flounced past the King of Hell, who watched her go with a small shake of his head.

His eyes met with Alex's for a brief moment, and he muttered, "Knew that," before he turned back to Dean. With the woman gone, Alex stepped forward, filling in the doorway as the King of Hell moved into the room, and she watched as Dean pulled on a black shirt and got out of bed. "Pants?" The demon's line set into a thin line of frustration.

Dean rolled his eyes, but he crossed the room towards his bag. "What's the plan for the rest of the day?" Alex asked, turning her attention up onto Crowley as the Winchester began to get dressed. "Wait, wait, let me guess — more beer and karaoke?"

Dean chuckled, but a glance up towards the King of Hell revealed his displeasure. "We've actually got a bit of a competition today," he explained, and Dean paused from where he was buckling his belt, his interest piqued. "That is, if you're feeling up to it. You're welcome to watch," he added down to Alex, and the ex-angel frowned.

"Great. Thanks, Crowley." Alex stepped out of the room and, with a toss of her hair, she made her way down the hall and out through the exit. The air had a cold, crisp feel to it, a chilly reminder that winter was coming, and Alex suppressed a shiver as she crossed the street. The Black Spur stood across the street, dingy and forlorn, and the ex-angel dropped down onto the steps in front of it as she waited for her companions. Her phone hung heavily within her pocket, and Alex reached in to pull it out, her fingers dancing over the black screen as she formulated a text to her mate.

The presence of Crowley, however, had that idea immediately falling from her mind, and she hastily shoved her cell back into her pocket as she rose to her feet. She stepped aside as Crowley and Dean entered the bar, and after a beat, she followed.

The two demons had taken an interest the foosball table, and Alex eyed the two strangers that stood across from them - they were Crowley's companions from earlier without a doubt. "Best of three." The King of Hell gripped the pegs tightly. "Losers buy the beer."

"Lots of beer," Dean added, and he beckoned Alex over with a crooked finger. "Keep an eye on these two." He motioned to his competitors. "Make sure they don't cheat."

"I won't take my eyes off of them." Alex pulled up a chair and dropped down in it, gaze sweeping around the room. The bar was still bustling, and the voices drowned out the spinning metal rods and the clack of the plastic men with the worn ball.

"Girl seemed nice," she heard Crowley begin as the game progressed, and Alex heard the foosball crash into the opposing goal. "Slightly damaged. I could see the old you falling for that."

"Yeah, well, don't worry," came the response, Dean's voice terse with concentration. "She means nothing." He roughly turned his handle, sending the plastic men spinning in violent circles.

"Good, good. Cause you and I, we're rolling stones. No distractions — Lock it down!" Crowley suddenly snapped, his voice rising in frustration. "Lock it down!"

"Stop talking," Dean retorted, and Alex glanced over her shoulder to watch how his shoulders hunched, eyes locked onto the field below him.

"You're bodging it!" The foosball clattered into their goal, and Crowley's shoulders fell.

Dean spun the handle angrily. "Aw. If you'd shut up — keep talking —" He cut off, face twisted in frustration. "— I can't play the game." His eyes turned from the table up to the rest of the bar, and Alex followed his gaze over to the blonde waitress Ann Marie. She was arguing with a dark-haired man, trying to rip her hand out of his grasp, and Alex rose to her feet as the man suddenly pulled her after him out of the bar.

Dean stalked after them, pushing his way through the swinging door, and when Crowley followed with a curious hum, Alex did the same. Clearly some of the other patrons had the same idea, and Alex pushed her way through the gathering throng to stand at Crowley's side. "Get off of me!" The waitress was insisting, fists balled as she ripped herself from the stranger's grasp.

"Why are you doing this to me?" The man's face was twisted in anger, and Alex stepped forward, ready to intervene, but she was stopped by a shake of Crowley's head.

"You need to calm down." Ann Marie insisted, but the man barely heard her. "Stop it!"

"Hey." Dean pushed his way in between them, staring down at the man as he spoke back to the woman. "Is this him?"

"There a problem?" The man lifted his chin to try and match Dean's height, and Alex watched as the Winchester's fingers flexed before curling into a fist.

"Yeah. Are you Matt?" Dean didn't wait for an answer before he lunged forward, pinning the man up against the hood of the car. His fist connected with the man's nose, and Alex narrowed her eyes as blood poured forth. "You need to get away from here." Dean punched him again, and then again, throwing an arm back to knock Ann Marie away as the waitress tried to pull him off. "Don't try and contact her. In fact, don't even think about her. You understand me?"

When the man uttered out a blood-soaked plea, Alex slipped under the demon's arm, grey eyes narrowed, but a sharp word from Crowley had her freezing on the spot. "Don't." Crowley pointed back to his side, and the ex-angel's eyes flashed with indecision as she looked between the two demons. Dean dropped Matt back against the hood, and the ex-angel felt relief spark through her chest to see that his chest was still moving, even if ever so slightly. She slunk back to Crowley's side, teeth digging into her tongue to keep from snapping, and she felt the tips of her ears burn with embarrassment as several of the onlookers glanced her way. The Winchester stalked past her, shaking blood off of his hand, and Alex hesitated before a nod from the King of Hell had her reluctantly following.

"Hey." She caught Dean by the arm, gaze steeling as the Winchester turned around to face her. "What was that all about?"

"What was what?" Dean's eyes flickered back towards the door as Ann Marie reentered, and Alex squeezed his arm sharply to pull his attention back onto her. "What?"

"Dude. Remember? Punching the shit out of that weird guy? What the hell was that?" Dean yanked his arm free, and Alex crossed her arms in front of her as she glared up at the demon.

"That was me beating up some douche who didn't know respect," Dean retorted, and Alex watched as he spun around and stalked off towards the bar.

"Don't worry about him." Crowley stopped beside her, and Alex's fingers curled frustratedly into her sleeves. "A few good flings here and there will keep the Mark sated."

"Yeah, yeah. Fuck off." Alex stormed away, irritation pricking beneath her skin. It was one thing for Dean to kill demons, but to beat up a human like that? Her fingers itched, and she looked down in surprise to see that they had curled into tight fists. Six weeks since she and Dean had hunted down those demons. Six weeks since she had been able to kill.

The ex-angel immediately shook the thought away, shoving her hands into her pockets as she looked around. A darkly dressed demon was standing by the entrance, a newcomer Alex didn't recognize, and she followed his gaze across the room to rest on Dean. The man was a demo no doubt; the mix of surprise and anger on his face was evident of that.

She took a step towards him, ready for confrontation, but once again Crowley was there, a hand on her chest to keep her back. "Ah, ah," he warned with a click of his tongue. "Let Dean deal with him." The King of Hell turned his head to watch Dean Winchester, and Alex did the same, frowning at how the demon was eyeing the stranger carefully; somehow the look on his face made her gut twisted uncomfortably. However, she only gave Crowley a small nod before she backed off.

Dean Winchester rose to his feet and made his way towards the back door, and the stranger followed; with a low growl of frustration, Alex slipped into a chair. "Give me the strongest that you have." She tapped the bar roughly with a finger, turning her back as her charge disappeared. One more kill for Dean. Still zero for Alex.

(A few days before)
Amherst Junction, Wisconsin

The Impala pulled up alongside a gas station just outside of town, and the engine died as Dean removed the key. "I'll be right back." The Winchester pulled a black hat down over his head as he threw open the door, and Alex frowned at the cold wind that cut through the cabin. "Stay here." He got out, and Alex watched him go, lips pursed together at the sight of the First Blade outlined against the back of his shirt. Without much of a second thought, she undid her seatbelt and jumped out of the car. Dean didn't look back, and, with a shrug, she followed after him.

A car roared past, the tires squealing against the concrete, and the ex-angel cast a glance behind her with a deep-set frown. Something prickled at the back of her neck, a feeling of unease, and the young girl looked around; over the past few weeks, she had come to know that feeling well.

Demon.

Not Dean; she knew his coldness well, a never-ceasing chill in the pit of her stomach. And not Crowley either. It was someone new, someone else with evil intent. Alex pulled out her phone as she moved across the parking lot, opening up chat to text the King of Hell. Demons here. One of yours?

The response came almost immediately. Sent to kill. Let Dean do his job. After a second, Crowley added, Not a word.

Alex shoved her phone back into her pocket with a scowl, and she pushed her way into the gas station, brushing back her hair at the sudden rush of warm air. Her grey eyes swept the room in search of her charge, passing over the young, curly-haired attendant behind the counter. Dean stood at the far end of the shop, next to the magazine rack, and Alex's scowl redoubled at the sight of the porn. Of course: demon or not, some things never changed. "Hey." She crossed over to him, hands shoved into her pocket, and Dean looked up from beneath the brim of his baseball cap.

"I thought I told you to wait in the car." The Winchester folded the magazine and placed it back on the shelf with a frown in her direction.

"And I thought I told you you're not my boss." Alex looked around the rest of the desolate gas station with a shrug. "What happened to getting gas? We're supposed to be back in Beulah by the end of tonight."

Her concern was met with a half-hearted shrug, and Dean reached for another magazine. "We'll get back there eventually," he promised, and his eyes flashed black as his gaze met hers.

Alex cast a look back at the attendant to make sure he wasn't watching, and her lips set into a frown. "Crowley —" A bell tinkled as a patron entered, and Alex cut herself off with a hiss. "We don't have time," she finished in a low murmur.

Dean scoffed, and with a roll of her eyes Alex stalked away; if they weren't in a hurry, then she was going to take the opportunity to find a meal for herself. She brushed past the newcomer, stifling a shudder as she did a double-take. Whoever that man was, he was definitely intended to be Dean's next target.

The demon walked past her without giving her a second look, and Alex, heeding Crowley's words, stepped aside and went on her way. She slipped off down the candy aisle, casting a glance back towards the two demons on her way. The stranger was meandering his way towards Dean, supposedly interested in the slushy machine, but Alex caught a flash of metal as a knife slipped down into his hands.

She frowned, but Dean didn't seem to notice, his back to the demon in question. He tucked the magazine under his arm and stepped away, moving back towards Alex, and she watched as his fingers rolled up the magazine just as the demon launched himself forward.

Dean spun around, a hand going up to block the knife as he jammed the magazine into the demon's chest, catching him by surprise. His fist connected with the stranger's face, and the being stumbled backwards. He let out a stuttered curse of rage, and Dean grabbed the demon by the jacket and threw him into the metal shelves, sending Alex jumping away as its contents went everywhere. "Watch it!" she hissed, and she took the moment to smooth down her rumpled shirt. The demon's knife flew from his hands, landing at Alex's feet, and the ex-angel casually kicked it away.

Dean didn't apologize as he whipped out the First Blade, and the demon screamed as the jawbone embedded itself into his chest. White light flashed in his eyes, but Dean didn't stop, plunging the weapon again and again into the demon's lifeless body.

"Dean." Alex cast a look over at the gas station attendant, lips set in a tight line at the look of fear upon the young man's face. "Dean. Stop. It's time to go." She circled around to put a hand on Dean's shoulder, not flinching when the Winchester reared up in surprise. "It's time to go," she repeated. "He's dead."

Dean's eyes flickered black before he blinked, and he straightened up without a word. Alex watched as the Winchester stalked out of the gas station, and she grabbed a bag of chips off of the floor before she hurried after him. She paused beside the counter and dug out some change from her pocket, dropping it onto the counter with a half-apologetic smile. "You can, uh — you can keep the change." She looked back at the bleeding corpse, eyes dull and staring into nothing, and she added, "Sorry about that," before she followed Dean back out of the gas station and into the car.

The motel door swung open as Dean stepped into the room, his shirt stained red with blood. Alex peered up over her laptop, lips set in a tight line as she watched the Winchester shrug off his jacket. "You're back." The ex-angel half-closed her laptop as she uncrossed her legs, eyes narrowed as she was ignored, but she kept her voice as tempered as she could. "Where'd you go?"

"Out. Just out." Dean stripped off his shirt and tossed it away, and Alex rolled her eyes.

She opened her mouth to say more, but the Winchester had already grabbed his bag and was pushing his way into the bathroom. "Hey, don't use up all the hot water ...." She trailed off as the door slammed behind him, and she leaned her head back to rest it against the headboard; it looked like she wasn't going to be showering that night.

Her eyes flickered over to the other end of the room to watch as Crowley entered through the door, and she dug her teeth into her bottom lip to keep herself from snapping. "Hey," she mumbled out, quickly moving to close the tabs that held all of Bobby's research. "You're back."

"I saw Dean come in." Crowley's eyes narrowed briefly as he glanced towards the bathroom door. "How is he?"

"Alive." Alex gave a half-shrug, and she burrowed further into the motel bed lest one of the men decide they wanted it for themselves. "That's all I was able to discern before he locked himself up in there." She jerked a thumb towards the bathroom with a scowl and another shrug. "Where were you? It was starting to get lonely here."

"I had some business to take care of." The demon's phone rang, and Crowley's eyes narrowed in confusion as he looked down at the caller ID. He pressed it up against his ear as he answered, and Alex's own head tipped in surprise when the King of Hell's lips pursed together. "Moose. Took you long enough." His dark eyes flickered over to Alex, and the ex-angel shrugged. "Your brother and I were beginning to wonder if you'd hit another dog. You know?"

Alex dropped her gaze down to her laptop, ears strained to hear Sam's reply, but without her grace, all she could hear were mumbled words. "Moose." Crowley cut him off, amusement in his voice. "Moose. I'm afraid you haven't allowed yourself to dream quite big enough here. Your brother is very much alive, courtesy of the Mark. And the only demonized soul inside of Dean is his and his alone. Wee bit more twisted, a little more mangled beyond human recognition, but I can assure you, all his. There, now, feel better."

The water stopped, and Alex pushed herself out of bed, wary of what exactly Sam would say to the King of Hell. "My pet?" she heard him say, surprise lining his voice. "He's my best friend, my partner in crime. They'll write songs about us, graphic novels. 'The Misadventures of Growley and Squirrel.' Dean Winchester completes me, and that's what makes you lose your chickens."

Something Sam said must have given him pause, because Alex felt his gaze turn onto her. "Alex?" he repeated. "So you've heard. Yes, she's here with me. Every dynamic duo needs a a female lead — comic relief, really." His voice darkened as he added, "Why? What has she told you?"

Alex turned away, feet carrying her towards the small inline fridge that sat beside the tv, and she kept her head down, praying that Sam kept his mouth shut. The door opened and closed, and Alex glanced up to find that Crowley had stepped outside.

The shower door opened, and Dean stepped out, his towel wrapped loosely around his waist. "I thought I heard Crowley."

"You did. He went back down to the bar." Alex dug a sweatshirt out of her bag. "I'm guessing that's where you're off to once you're dressed." She heard Dean's grunt of agreement, and she pulled on the thick, warm over-shirt. "Great. I'll come with."

"You don't have to. Crowley removed that damn leash two weeks ago."

"No," Alex corrected crossly, "he lengthened it to a hundred feet, give or take. And I'm coming with because my one fucking job is to keep an eye on you. I don't know what the hell you did to that guy who was tailing you, but I'm supposed to make sure that doesn't happen to civilians."

She expected Dean to snap, but no reply came. Unsure what else to do, the ex-angel shoved her phone into her pockets and stepped outside. She made her way down the hall and out into the street, shivering slightly at the chill in the air. With a glance over towards the Black Spur, she pulled out her phone and took a seat down on the curb.

The ex-angel dialed Castiel's number and pressed the screen up against her ear, listening as it rung. Her foot tapped on the concrete as she waited, impatient, and when the other end clicked, she leaned forward. "Cas?"

Her inquiry was met with a dry cough, and Alex's eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Alex?" Castiel cleared his throat, trying to chase away his illness, but his voice still sounded weak. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me."Alex ducked her head, trying to hide the smile at the sound of his voice. "I'm not supposed to be talking to you, I just ... I missed you. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." The seraph's response was shaken by another stifled cough.

Alex frowned, but when Castiel made no efforts to correct his lie, she prompted, "Sam said that your grace was burning away. Don't say it's not," she added when a noise of protest rumbled in his throat. "You don't sound good at all. I — I promise you, I'll be there as soon as I can. Once I can get away from here ..." She trailed off with a sigh. "What are you up to? Getting some rest, I hope."

"I'm in Michigan. There are two rogue angels who refuse to return to heaven. They killed the angel who tried to bring them back home."

"Oh." Alex's face darkened. "Be careful — you're not going after them alone, are you?" She leaned forward, reaching down to scoop up a small dark pebble before she tossed it further into the street as she waited for an answer.

"No. I'm here with Hannah. You remember her, I'm sure."

"Uh, yeah. She's the one who was always watching Ashiel." Alex's eyes narrowed, and her voice took on a half-teasing tone. "She's smart. And pretty. If she tries to kiss you, I'll kill her."

Castiel chuckled, but it seemed hesitant, unsure of how serious the young hunter was being. It faded with another cough. "It's Crowley that is keeping you where you are, isn't it?" he finally asked. "I ... I know you can't say anything, but I talked with Sam. He saw you and Dean murder a man on a security tape in Wisconsin."

"I didn't murder anyone," Alex corrected sharply. "Strict hands-off policy by Crowley. And besides, it was a demon who Dean killed. Crowley —" She cut off as Dean Winchester brushed past her, giving her a sidelong look as he crossed the street. "Never mind. Listen, I should get going. I love you, alright?"

"Alright. I love you too. Hopefully, I'll see you soon."

"Soon can't come soon enough." Alex sighed as she hung up, and the ex-angel reluctantly pushed herself to her feet as she followed Dean across the road and into the club.

The air was thick and slimy with alcohol and sweat, and Alex wrinkled her nose at the sudden and pungent odor. As her eyes adjusted to the darkened interior, they came to rest on the stout, suited figure of the King of Hell, who sat by himself at the bar. He turned at their entrance, and a crooked finger beckoned Alex over.

The hunter crossed the room and hesitantly slid into the seat beside the demon, fingers drumming nervously on the wooden bar as she lifted her gaze to meet his eyes. "Hey," she greeted, and the steadiness of her voice quelled her nervousness. "What did Sam want?"

"The usual. He's dead set on getting his brother back. Seemed to think that I had one of my men possessing him."

"Yeah, I heard that part." Alex waved the bartender over before she added, "Okay? What else?"

"And he's apparently figured out that I've been sending Abaddon's old goons after Dean. Which means I need to come clean before Dean hears it from less reliable sources." His gaze hardened, and he added, "And Sam mentioned that he's on his way. Actually, he mentioned Beulah specifically by name."

Alex gave a half-hearted shrug, fingers closing around the cold glass of her newly-poured drink. "Huh. I spoke to him yesterday," she admitted. "Assbag must have traced my call." She took a sip of the fiery liquid, hoping her insult to Sam's name would quench however much of the King's anger that the lie did not. "And no, don't worry. I haven't told Dean anything about the demons you sent him — I didn't even know they were Abaddon's until you mentioned it."

"Hm." The demon's grunt sounded less than convinced, but he let the subject go. "And how much have you spoken to that playtoy of yours?"

"Castiel." The ex-angel's grip tightened around her glass. "And he's not doing well, not with his grace burning away." She looked up, eyes hardening as she held the King of Hell's gaze. "If things get worse, I'm going to him. Take my soul if you want, but I'm not going to let him die alone."

She lifted her chin, waiting for a response, but Crowley merely shrugged. "And I suppose that your choice." He turned away to wave Dean over to him, leaving Alex to watch him with a frown, unsure of his answer; was that affirmation or a thinly-veiled threat? "Dean. Sit down." The King of Hell motioned to the seat beside him, and Alex took another sip of her drink as the Winchester sat down.

"What's up?" Dean waved the bartender over, pointing to the bar in front of him, and an open beer was placed in his hands. His gaze flickered between Alex and Crowley, but the young hunter barely took notice, her mind still mulling over Crowley's comment.

"I've got something to confess." The King of Hell turned his brown eyes onto Dean, and the Winchester cocked an eyebrow. "You're probably aware that certain members of Abaddon's crew have put you at the top of their list."

"Yeah." Dean took a swig of his drink with a cocky grin. "They just can't accept that the queen is dead and that I was the one who killed her."

"Something like that. You see," Crowley began, "that's not exactly true. You and I, we had most of Abaddon's most loyal sorted out within the month. What you've been dealing with are the groupies that defected back to me. I told them that, if they slay you, they get back into my good graces."

Dean set down his beer, his voice growing sharp as he looked between Alex and the King of Hell. "You sent those demons to kill me?"

"To keep you sharp," Crowley corrected.

"Really?"

The King frowned at Dean's retort. "If it wasn't for me throwing demon chum your way, what do you think would've happened?" he snapped. "The Mark needs to be sated. Otherwise —"

"Otherwise, I turn into a demon," Dean finished. "Yeah, yeah. I sort of got that six weeks ago." He brought his beer back up to his lips, and Alex chuckled under her breath at his quip.

Crowley shrugged, unaffected by the Winchester's words. "Just trying to help."

"You lied."

"Who do you think you're talking to here?" Crowley snorted in amusement at Dean's innocent insistence. "Does the tin man have a sheet-metal willy? Of course I lied." Alex pulled a face at the image described, but Dean just rose to his feet with a shake of his head.

"Hey." Crowley's voice grew sharp with authority as he reached out to stop the Winchester. "Sit down. Sit." Dean only stared, and the demon shook his head. "I needed to keep you sharp for our future," he explained, "about which we need to talk."

"Our future?" Dean repeated, disbelief lining his voice.

"Our professional future. How to put this?" Crowley's lips pursed tightly together. "If I have to spend one more night in this fetid petri dish of broken dreams and B.O., I will cut off my own face."

"Amen," Alex put in, leaning forward so she could look around the King of Hell. "This place fucking sucks, Dean. We've been in this particular bar for over a week. I'm done. I'm tired. Hell is better than this pit."

Dean sank back down in this his chair, slamming his beer bottle onto the counter. "I don't know what you're talking about. Cause I'm good." His arms spread wide as he gestured the crowd around him before he swiped a hand through his hair, grown long from his time away from home. "Hell, I'm great."

"Really?" Crowley's eyebrow cocked in surprise. "How many suicide wings can you eat? How many one-hit wonders can you karaoke to death?"

Dean leaned forward, and his green eyes flashed angrily. "Okay, see, the deal was we howl at the moon — no time stamp, no expiration date."

"We've howled. We've bayed." Crowley shook his head, and Alex echoed his exasperation. "We've done extraordinary things to triplets, all of which have been massively entertaining. I will treasure our Flickr album forever. But now it's time for us to accept what we are and go back to work."

"Pass." Dean started to rise to his feet, but Crowley reached out, a hand wrapping around his wrist in an iron grasp.

"Think of it — the King of Hell, Dean Winchester at his side. Together we rule. Together we create the perfect hell. And all of this that's bloomed between us never ends. We're not ending the party. We're just moving it. Out with the club circuit, in with the stadium tour." Dean hesitated, and after a moment of silence, Crowley added, "Oh. Did I forget to mention I spoke with Moose earlier?"

"What?"

"Yes. Uh, apparently, he's been tracking us for some time now. No thanks to someone." His words were accompanied by a glance over at Alex, but the young hunter merely rolled her eyes. "He got my text from the cell of that demon that you stabbed in blah ,blah, blah." Crowley waved the details off. "It was — words were spoken — emotions. I realize, in retrospect, perhaps too many words, too many emotions."

"He traced the cell."

"He already knew our location." Crowley's voice was lined with frustration, and Alex slammed down the rest of her drink. "But, yes. I guess he'll be here by morning — the latest."

"You sold me out." Dean's eyes flashed black as he glared over at Alex, and the ex-angel steadily held his gaze before it turned back up to Crowley. "Well, that's just lovely."

The King of Hell shook his head at Dean's outrage. "I don't know what's going on with you. I don't. But I've had just about enough of it. Sold you out? Try doing you a favor. Everything I've done for you for the past six months — the Mark, the First Blade, midwifing you back to life, offering you a seat by my side — has been a favor, a gift, whether you see it or you don't." His eyes narrowed when Dean only scoffed, and he looked down at Alex. "Take Alex and take the night off. Decide. You know where to find me."

Dean scoffed again, this time loudly as he rose to his feet, and Alex pushed herself off of the stool, ready to follow the Winchester wherever he might go. She took a step towards him, but Crowley reached out, catching her by the arm. "You're not off the hook," he warned, and for a moment, his voice took on a dark, sinister tone. "I know what you told Sam."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Alex ripped herself free from his hold. "I do have a question, though. In this hell that you're planning — you, Dean your trusted second in command — where do I fit in?"

Crowley chuckled, and his glass clinked against his teeth as he took a sip. "You fit in wherever I tell you to. I don't know what fantasies of authority Lucifer instilled in that head of yours, but to all of these demons here, you're nothing more than pre-diabolic fodder."

Alex's eyes narrowed as she searched Crowley's face for any sign of deception, but it held none. With a snort, she shoved her hands into her pockets and turned to go. "I'm looking forward to gutting you," she reminded before she made her way after Dean.

She heard Crowley chuckle, his ice chinking against his glass. "Love you, too, kitten." His voice faded as Alex stepped outside, swallowed up by the clamor of the patrons, and without a glance backwards, the young hunter made her way after Dean.

The Impala roared off down the street, engine revving as it sped past a darkened corn field. Alex sat in the front seat, her attention buried in her laptop as Dean drove them down the highway, their destination still unknown. He hadn't spoken since leaving the Black Spur, and despite Alex's multiple attempts at starting a conversation, eventually silence had prevailed. The ex-angel chanced a look over at the clock; they had been driving for over an hour, the car barreling down cold, deserted highways with no end in sight, and her stomach was starting to twist from the bumps and holes in the worn pavement. "Dean." Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke, and she cleared her throat to strengthen it. "Where are we going?"

Dean didn't answer, and Alex frowned. "What?" she snapped. "What's your problem, you asshat? Are you mad at me?"

Dean still didn't respond, and the young hunter slammed her laptop shut in frustration. She opened her mouth, but the ringing of her phone had her pausing in confusion. The screen on Dean's cell, laying on the seat between them, lit up to display the name 'Sam,' and Alex's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

The demon snatched up the phone, and Alex watched the frown that darkened his face before he finally answered. "I left you an open tab at the bar," he announced. "Knock yourself out." Whatever response he got, it wasn't the one he was expecting, because surprise flashed momentarily across his face before it hardened once again. "And who is this?" He paused, listening, before his gaze flickered over to Alex. "On my brother's phone?"

"What's going on?" Alex spoke the words aloud, uncaring of who on the other line heard. "Where's Sam?"

Dean's lips twitched in displeasure at her outburst, but he refused to answer her question. "Is he dead?" he asked the person on the other line before adding after a moment, "And how do I know he's still alive?"

"Dean." Alex reached out to snatch the phone out of Dean's hand, putting it on speaker phone and tossing it onto the dash between them. "Who the hell is this?" she snapped.

"Who the hell are you?" came the cold, foreign response. A noise came from the other end, and the voice grew sharp. "Speak." No response came, and Alex's lips twitched at the sound of a fist pounding against flesh. Sam cried out in alarm, and the voice was back. "Proof of life."

"Dean!" Sam's yell was faintly heard, and Alex leaned forward in her seat.

"What do you want?" she snapped. "Seriously," she added to Dean. "Who the hell is this guy?"

"The old barn off of Highway 63 and Summit. As long as you show up where I tell you to show up, your brother will be just fine."

"No, you listen to me." Dean snatched up the phone, taking it off speaker and pressing it up against his ear. "There's no trade. There's no meet-up." He ignored Alex's surprise and indignation as he continued, "There's no nothing — except the one hundred percent guarantee that, somewhere down the road, I will find you, and I will kill you. I told him to let me go. So whatever jam he's in now, that's his problem."

There was a response, and Alex leaned close enough to hear, "I'll be sure to pass that on to him as I'm slitting his throat."

Dean only scoffed, unperturbed by the threat. "Yeah, you do that, cause he knows me. And he knows damn sure that if I am one thing, I am a man of my word." He hung up and tossed the phone back onto the dash, and Alex stared at him, jaw agape. "What?"

"What?" Alex repeated scornfully. "You — you're just going to drive away? Just like that?"

"Like I said. He's not my problem anymore." Dean shot her a glance as the ex-angel undid her seatbelt and shoved her laptop into her bag. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going after Sam." Alex's grey eyes flashed, and she lifted her head to meet Dean's black gaze. "You might not be capable of caring about him, but I still am. He's my charge, and family or not, it's my job to take care of him." She shoved her phone in alongside her computer before she wrapped her hand around the door handle. "Let me out."

"You can't go outside of a hundred feet from me," Dean reminded, but the car slowed down nevertheless. "You won't make it very far."

"I can put up with the pain." Alex threw open the door, and she stepped out onto the black pavement below. "I guess we'll see who breaks first. See you around." She slammed the door behind her, and the Impala sped off down the road.

Alex slung her backpack over her shoulder and started off in the opposite direction. She had barely gotten fifteen feet before she felt the leash tighten, a dark, choking feeling around her lungs. It was followed immediately by pain as she stepped outside of her limits, and the ex-angel grit her teeth at the shock that ran up her spine. Black spots flashed in front of her eyes, but she pushed herself onwards, one painful step in front of another. The world began to spin, her body growing weary under the continual strain, but Alex refused to stop. Sam was in trouble, and she needed to find him.

If only she had her wings.

Suddenly, the pain increased tenfold, a throbbing agony that shook her bones, and Alex's legs wobbled beneath her. She fell to her knees, barely catching herself on the rough pavement with a gasp of surprise. Footsteps echoed through the night air, coming to stop in front of her, but the young hunter didn't need to look up to know who it was. "Where are you going?"

Alex didn't answer, and she felt dark energy swirl around her, forcing her up so she was kneeling at the King of Hell's feet. "Fuck off," she gasped, and she grit her teeth to find the strength to add, "I'm going to find Sam."

"Sam, huh?" A hand came to rest on her head, finger tapping thoughtfully in her hair. "And why, pray tell, are you going to do that?" The hand slipped under her chin, lifting her head so Alex could look Crowley in the eyes. "Your job is Dean. Which means you stay with Dean until I say otherwise."

"Sam's in trouble." Despite the pain, Alex forced herself to her feet, jaw clenched at the electricity running up and down her spine. "Someone's going to kill him if I don't get there first. Dean — it was Dean's choice not to come with me, so go talk with him." Her eyes flashed. "I'm his babysitter, so what I say goes."

"Perhaps. But you're the bottom in this relationship. And if I tell you to stay with Dean, then you stay with Dean." Pain gripped Alex at his words, stronger and hotter than ever, and the ground pitched beneath her feet. The pavement collided with her shoulder as the ex-angel fell, and she grunted as the air was crushed from her lungs. "You think this is bad?" Crowley's voice pierced through the plugged ringing in her hears. "Wait until you get to hell, little mouse. Keep this attitude up, you'll be there before you know it."

The world spun, vanishing into a crushing blackness, and then the pain was gone. The hard pavement was replaced by the cool leather of the Impala's backseat, and Alex let her forehead press into the slick material, her shoulders slumping back. The car jolted forward, the demon no longer hindered by the leash, and Alex squeezed her eyes shut as they sped further and further away from Sam.