March 27th, 2015
Lebanon, Kansas

Alex kicked a stack of books off of the chair, her head lolled back as they clattered to the floor. The single lamp that illuminated the small room flickered twice, seemingly sharing in her frustration, and the angel reached up to rub at her aching head. How long had she been locked away in the bottom level of the bunker? She could see a blinking blue light on her phone, which lay charging across the room; that light had been flashing for hours, begging her to read the text, but if no one had called her about it, it couldn't be that important. Lucifer's grace remained within her, an ever-constant reminder of what she was looking for, and Alex reached for the nearest book with a heavy sigh. The faster she read, the sooner she would find a way to beat Amara and save him.

The door swung open, and Alex jumped with a stuttered curse; she had been so lost in her own thoughts, she hadn't heard anyone approach. Sam stood in the doorway, the bright light from the hall casting a dark shadow across his face. "There you are." He flicked on the overhead lights, and Alex screwed up her eyes. "We've been looking for you."

"Well, I'm right here. Same place as last time we talked." Alex flipped open the heavy leather-bound book with a shake of her head. "I haven't found anything yet."

"You left the room between now and then, right?" Alex shrugged, and Sam's face darkened. "Alex, Dean and I left five days ago. Please tell me you've at least stood up."

"If it'll make you feel better, sure." Alex leaned back in her chair to meet the Winchester's gaze. "Has it really been five days?" When Sam nodded, she pushed herself to her feet with a shake of her head. "Great. Well, how was the job out in, uh ..."

"In Colorado." Sam stepped back out into the hallway, and Alex reluctantly followed, grabbing her phone on the way out the door. "It was interesting. We definitely could have used you," he added. "Turns out it wasn't demons. They were bisaan."

"Bison?" Alex moved past Sam to take the lead up the stairs, and her grace flicked out in search of Dean. There. Alex felt his soul in the kitchen, and she turned her course towards him. "Sounds exciting."

"Bisaan," Sam corrected sourly, and Alex paused, confused at his tone. "Also called a cicada spirit." When Alex shrugged, he explained, "They live underground for twenty seven years before they emerge during the spring equinox to possess humans and breed. Apparently a couple of them had migrated up from Mexico a century ago or so, locals were calling them 'the chitters.' "

"Exciting," Alex repeated as she stepped into the kitchen. "Wish I could have been there."

"You could've." Dean cracked open a beer as he spoke, and Alex rolled her eyes at how he grit his teeth around the words. "Find anything to track down Cas?"

"Nothing. No items, no spells, no lore." Alex sullenly nudged at the leg of a nearby stool with a shake of her head. "I've poured almost every book that even mentions tracking, but there's nothing. Normally I'd just be able to follow their grace, but Luce — Lucifer tied such a tight knot that I can't feel anything. Not from either of them."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, but when neither of them spoke, Alex turned to go. She had taken one step over the threshold into the hall before Dean spoke. "Are we going to talk about Lucifer or not?"

"I dunno, Dean. Do you want to?" With a soft sigh to steel herself, Alex turned back around, leaning up against the doorframe as she crossed her arms. "Because I'm not sure what's left to talk about."

"How about how you're shacking up with the devil?" Dean snapped, and he mimicked her by leaning up against the counter with his arms folded across his chest. "I think that's a pretty great place to start."

"Okay, well, first off I actually haven't slept with him, and secondly ..." Alex faltered, struggling to find the right words, "secondly, it's none of your business who I sleep with, anyways. You don't know him, Dean."

She stepped aside as Sam slipped past, mumbling out a hurried apology as he scurried away, but Dean stood firm. "Know him?" he repeated with a loud scoff. "He's a psychopath that wants nothing more than to kill me, Sam, and everyone else on this damn planet. What more is there to know?"

"A lot more, apparently. He's just as complex as me and you." Her wings twitched angrily, the bare vanes rattling against one another. " Ashiel really likes him," she added after a moment as she forced her wings down. "And Luce likes him back. He treats him as good as anyone I've met." She watched as Dean shook his head, and she heaved a sigh as she stepped towards the door. "I'm not going to apologize for seeing the good in someone, Dean. So if you don't mind, I'm going to go back downstairs and try and save both him and Cas. I'll let you and Sam get unpacked."

Footsteps echoed through the hallway, quickly approaching the library, and Alex lifted her head out of the book she was reading. She blinked once, then twice, trying to get her tired eyes to focus on the bookshelf across the room as she let her grace stretch out towards the sound that had disturbed her concentration. Sam. Alex scrubbed at her forehead as she waited for the Winchester to draw closer, and she flapped her wings twice to stretch out the cramped muscles. "Hey," she greeted as Sam stepped into sight. "I thought you were going to try and get some sleep."

"Uh, I was." Sam joined her in the library, his brown plaid shirt unbuttoned to the point that Alex could see the black v-neck that lay below. "Finding anything?"

"Nope. Still nothing. I'm starting to think that there's nothing to be found." Alex shoved her book way with a terse shake of her head. "Besides, even if we did find something ... who know what traps Amara's set up. If she's shielded herself again, then there's no promises that any kind of spell would work, anyways."

"Well, I might have found something." Sam reached up to touch the black tablet that was tucked beneath his arm to emphasize his words as his eyes swept the library. "Have you seen Dean?"

Sam looked around expectantly, and Alex let her grace twist out through the bunker to find the oldest Winchester. "Kitchen." She pushed herself to her feet as she drew her grace back in, her wings curling forward in curiosity. "Do you mean 'found something' like a case, or 'found something' like a lead on Amara?"

"Come on." Sam waved her after him, and Alex followed him down the hall with a small, unsure frown. She tugged at Lucifer's grace as she jumped down the library steps, willing it to move, but it resisted her touch. She could hear the hiss of an iron from the kitchen, and she moved past Sam to step through the doorway. The Winchester was cleaning a white oxford, a hot iron in one, a beer in another. "Oh, perfect," Sam began, and Dean looked up, surprised by their presence. "We're gonna need our suits."

Dean set the iron aside, and his eyes darted over to Alex as he took a drink. "Tell me you got something on Amara."

"Uh, it's a long shot, but the clock's ticking, right?" Sam pulled his tablet out from under his arm, and Alex circled around to lean against the stainless steel counter. "Uh, Hope Springs, Idaho." He held the tablet out to Dean, and Dean looked down at the article on the screen. "A guy named Wes Cooper killed himself after killing a co-worker. According to the reports, though, nobody knows why. Apparently he was perfectly happy guy, and then ... snap."

"So, what?" Dean handed the tablet over to Alex, and the angel scanned through the report with a frown. "You thinking possession?"

"Or he was soulless." Sam and Alex spoke at the same time, and Alex dropped the tablet onto the counter behind her. "That's pretty thin as far as leads go," she added with a flick of her wing. "And even if it is Amara — what's the point in chasing her down? We should be looking for Lu — Cas while she's distracted."

Sam held out his hand, and Alex handed back the tablet. "Look," he began, "if Amara is eating souls again, then she's not going to go too far from where she's holed up. Cas and Lucifer have to be close."

Alex saw Dean frown out of the corner of her eye, and he took a long drink from his beer. "It ain't much," he agreed, "but given what we got, I'll take it." He handed the white shirt over to Sam as he walked away. "There you go."

"Thanks —" Sam cut off as Dean disappeared from sight, and he lowered his nose to sniff at the shoulder of his shirt. "Dude, quit ironing my shirts with beer!" No answer came, and Sam tossed the shirt over his shoulder with a shake of his head. His eyes turned onto Alex, and his posture softened. "You should probably shower before we go. No offense but, uh ..."

"I smell?" Alex guessed, and when Sam nodded, she sniffed at her shoulder. "Yeah, you're right. I'll go get cleaned up." She stepped out of the kitchen with a flick of her wings, leaving Sam standing alone. She took the long way around to the showers, but Dean was there waiting for her, leaning up against the shower door. "Hey, Dean. You getting ready to go?"

"Yeah, I'm all set." Dean didn't budge, and Alex glanced past him towards the showers. "I just need to make sure you're good to go." He cast a look over his shoulder as Alex frowned, and she crossed her arms, waiting for his explanation.

When it never came, she spoke. "What do you mean, Dean? Why would I not be ready? It's been a week since Amara took Lucifer, and all I've done is look for them." Her wings arched as Dean's face darkened. "Oh. Of course. This isn't about Amara at all, is it?"

"Listen, I'm not pointing fingers here, but you've barely opened two books since we let Amara out, and now all of a sudden it's all you want to do? I'm just not sure if you have your priorities straight here."

"My priority is to get Lucifer back. Get Cas back," she added when Dean's jaw ticked. "Call it what you want — at this point, they're sort of one and the same. I want them back before Amara hurts them even more. And I get who Amara is, but somehow ... she hasn't exactly felt like my problem. I guess my attention's been elsewhere. Between Crowley —"

"And Lucifer." Dean's voice was flat, and Alex's wings twitched.

"And Lucifer," she agreed tersely. "Don't worry, Dean, I'm keeping my eye on him. I'm not calling him a saint, but if God trusted him enough to give him the key to Amara's prison, then maybe you should put a little more of your trust into him, too." She glanced once more towards the shower, and she ended with, "Look, I need to get cleaned up before we leave. I'll meet you and Sam out by the car." Dean hesitated before he stepped aside, and Alex slipped past him into the showers.

Hope Springs, Idaho

Alex adjusted the collar of her blouse as she stepped out of the Impala. The Hope Springs Police Station lay spread out across the corner of the intersection, the glass entrance gleaming in the late afternoon sun. The car locked with a click as Sam and Dean joined her out on the pavement, and the angel let the brothers take the lead across the parking lot and in through the doors. A man was there to greet them, his short hair greyed with age. "Agents." He greeted them with a nod and extended a hand towards Dean. "Glad you could make it. I'm Sheriff Benson, but you can just call me Mac."

Dean shook Mac's hand before he reached for his badge. "I'm Agent Ehart," he introduced. "These are my partners Agent Greer and Williams." He gestured to Sam and Alex respectively, and Alex briefly held up her own badge before she tucked it back into her jacket pocket.

"Well, I appreciate the FBI taking an interest in this case," Mac began. "We don't really see things like this around here."

"Hey, you mind if I knock off, Sheriff?" A young officer stepped out from the hall, her blonde hair swept back into a high ponytail. Her eyes darted across the three hunters as she fell quiet, and a faint hint of embarrassment flushed her cheeks.

"Let me guess." Mac cracked a smile as he turned to the woman. "Art's back?" His grin widened as he turned back to Sam and Dean to explain, "Newlyweds." Dean chuckled, and Mac nodded off towards the officer. "You can go home after you show Agent Greer the M.E. files."

"I'll go with, too," Alex volunteered, and she fell in step at Sam's side as the officer waved her and Sam down the hall.

"I'm Deputy Jan Harris," the officer introduced, and Alex echoed with her own alias. "Let me guess. You three are here about Wes Cooper, aren't you?" When Sam nodded, Jan heaved a sigh. "I knew Wes' wife. We sang in the choir together. She loved Wes until the day that she died — cancer," she added after a second's pause. "He seemed to be doing well, all things considered." She turned into a large office and picked a manilla folder up off of the desk. "There was a witness who overhead Wes before he ... before he took his own life," she said, handing the folder to Sam. "He was saying horrible things. How his life was meaningless, how nobody loved him. I don't know why he'd say anything like that. And then ... there's this."

She pointed to the autopsy photos, and Alex leaned closer to Sam to examine the pictures. The veins on the corpse's neck were black as coal, bulging against the skin, and she felt the Winchester stiffen beside her. "Hold on a second. I've actually seen something like this before." His eyes turned down onto the next photo of Wes' side, where the same inky blackness spread down his arm. He passed the file down onto Alex, and the angel flipped through the pictures as Sam asked, "Deputy, tell me, uh, have you noticed any strange phenomena around town? Uh, sulfur smells or power outages? Maybe an unexplained fog?"

Alex narrowed her eyes at the questions, and she closed the file and set it down on the desk behind her, unsure of what the Winchester was insinuating. The deputy seemed equally as confused, and she gave a small shake of her head. "No, sir. It's always sunny in Hope Springs. At least," she added with a frown, "it used to be."

Her eyes drifted up towards the wall-mounted clock, and Alex tapped her fingers on the edge of the desk. "You can go if you want. I think we've seen what we need to see." She waited for Sam to nod before she led the way back out into the hall. Jan disappeared in the other direction, and Alex fell in step at Sam's side. "I take it you've seen something like that before."

"Yeah. Let's grab Dean and get out of here." Sam quickened his step, and Alex rushed after him.

Dean was waiting beside the door when they returned to the lobby, and Alex glanced around to find that the sheriff was nowhere in sight. "Well?" Dean held open the door, and Alex stepped out into the night. "Anything weird? I'm thinking curse. Remember that truth spell —"

"It's not a curse." Sam led the way towards the car with a sharp shake of his head. "It's Superior all over again."

Alex tipped her head at Dean's sharp inhale. "Superior?" he repeated before his eyes went wide. "You think Wes went rabid."

"He had the same black veins as the others." Sam climbed into the front seat, and Alex jumped into the back with a curious twitch of her grace. That was right. Superior, Nebraska. Back when the Darkness had first been released. "That would explain why he went insane. And that means Amara is close."

"Which means Lucifer is, too," Alex added as the car roared to life. "Great. I'll start looking around. She's got to be keeping them in a building somewhere. Someplace abandoned —"

"Whoa, whoa." Dean cut her off, and Alex frowned, her fingernails digging into the door handle as the Impala pealed out onto the road. "If this is Superior, then Wes isn't going to be the last one to turn. We gotta figure out a way to stop it before anyone else gets hurt."

"We have some holy oil in the back. Holy fire is what cured it last time." Sam's fingers drummed impatiently against his knee. "I guess there's nothing we can do except wait."

"Wait and keep low," Alex agreed with a scowl. "The last thing we need is for her to find us without Lucifer and without a Hand of God. We're sitting ducks."

"Yeah, maybe." Dean's agreement was reluctant, and he turned the Impala into the parking lot of the nearest bar. "Tell you what, though. Let's grab some grub and a couple beers, and then we'll hit the case hard first thing tomorrow."

To Dean's disappointment, the next day's investigation yielded no leads. Neither did the day afterwards. There was no sign of Amara, no new bodies, and no more of the "rabids" Sam and Dean had spoken so warily of. The town around them had settled back down into its routine. All of Wes' friends had been clean, and his house was as spotless as any Alex had been in. Even the abandoned buildings and farms around town had proven to be dead ends.

The call came in the morning Dean had promised that they would leave. The sun had barely risen above the horizon, and it had been Alex who had fielded the call; both brothers had still been asleep when Dean's phone had first rung. Another body had dropped on the other side of town. Alex had barely taken the time to recognize one of the names — Deputy Jan Harris — before she had gone to rouse the brothers.

Half an hour later, all three were showered, dressed, and standing outside the Harris household. Two EMTs were in the process of carrying a stretcher down the porch stairs, and the sheriff was overseeing the operation from the front lawn. He turned at the sight of them, a hesitant smile momentarily gracing his thin face. "Sorry I woke you three," he began, and Alex broke away from the brothers to pick her way past the police tape to the coroner's van.

"Agent Williams," she introduced, and she motioned down to the body bag as the EMTs stopped to open up the door. "Mind if I take a look?"

The two men exchanged looks above her head. "If you want," the taller one finally said. "I have to warn you, it's not pretty." He pulled back the zipper, and Alex's wings flittered as the face came into sight.

Perhaps "face" wasn't the correct term, the angel decided after a moment. What remained was little more than a bloody pulp. She could recognize a tooth here, a fractured orbital socket there, but there was nothing left for a positive identification. "Harris didn't show up for work this morning," she heard Mac tell Sam and Dean, and she tilted her head to studying the corpse's neck: no sign of black veins. "We called, tried her CB, nothing. So, I swung by here. I found Art on the kitchen floor, Harris' shotgun right next to him. She ... it looked like Deputy Harris shot her husband point-blank in the face then left the scene."

Alex stepped away from the corpse with a murmured thanks, and she left the EMTs to lift the body up into the van. "Did you notice anything off about Deputy Harris' behavior the last couple days?" Sam asked, and the sheriff's eyes darted over to Alex as she rejoined Sam and Dean. He shook his head, and Sam pressed, "When was the last time anyone heard from her?"

"She called in for the last time yesterday," Mac relayed. "Said something about ... seeing some fog rolling in. I don't know why she cared about the damn weather."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks above Alex's head, and the angel's wings pulled in tighter; Sam had mentioned that it was fog that carried the rabid disease. "Would you get in contact with your dispatch officer?" Dean asked. "Tell them to let us know if they get any more reports like that again."

"You serious?" Mac barked out an unsure laugh, but it died when neither Winchester shared in his humor.

"Yeah, just to be safe," Dean said, and Sam quickly added, "And do you have any idea where Harris might be now?"

"No. But we can track her vehicle from our office." Mac glanced over his shoulder at the house, and he was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "The station is just a few blocks away. I'll go ask Mason to head this up, and I'll meet you three there."

He walked away, and Alex turned to look up at Sam and Dean. "Art's body is clean," she muttered, just loud enough for them to hear, and she fell in step at Sam's side as they started towards the Impala. "His neck was clean, and there's no other sign that he was one of these rabids."

"Well, if he didn't step into the fog, then he probably wasn't infected." The engine roared as Dean started the car, and Alex slid into the middle of the backseat as she felt it shift into drive. "We need to find Jan before she hurts anyone else."

"So, I guess I'm confused. How exactly do these rabids work? Because so far they've only killed people they're emotionally attached to, but from the way you described it ..."

She trailed off, and it took Sam a moment to respond. "It's complicated," he finally said. "They're still ... human when they're first infected. But the longer they're exposed, the less human they get. They stop talking, stop thinking. Then they just stop living." The leather seats squeaked as he shifted so he could look back at her. "Some die within hours, but some can live on for days. I guess it just depends on the person."

"And that's assuming this is the same as last time," Dean added, and the Impala turned down the road towards the police station. "Who knows. This — this could be something completely different." The engine died as they pulled into the parking lot, and Alex jumped out of the car, her grace flicking through the air. The sun was above the trees, but dark clouds were gathering on the horizon, threatening to take away the light.

"Who knows what Amara's cooked up." She followed Sam and Dean towards the station, pausing beside the door as a police car pulled up alongside the building. Mac stepped out, and the three hunters let him take the lead into the station. "This way." He led the way down the hall and into a large office room. "We can trace her vehicle here," he announced, and Alex leaned against the table to watch. It didn't take the sheriff long to log in to the system, but soon after that his confidence began to falter. "I can't make heads or tails of it," he finally admitted, and Alex hid an amused smile as the older man squinted at the map on the screen. "Harris is ... was our computer person."

"Can I give it a shot?" Sam pushed past Alex, and when the sheriff nodded, he took a seat in front of the computer. The keyboard clacked as he set to work, and Mac moved back to give him space.

"Sheriff?" An officer spoke up from across the room, and Alex turned to watch her hang up the phone and rise to her feet. "Matt and Emmy just called in. They said they saw some fog rolling in by Jasper Hills."

Fog? Alex felt Sam and Dean's panic spark through the air, mingling with her own. "Did they say where it was headed?" Dean asked.

The officer nodded. "West. Towards town."

Dean glanced back at Sam and Alex, hesitation flickering through his eyes before he spoke. "Okay. Call them back, tell them to get inside, shut their windows and doors and seal it up, and stay the hell away from that fog. Then get the word out to everybody in town. They need to do the same damn thing."

"Hold on." Mac circled around to stand at Dean's side. "What are you talking about?"

"My partner and I have seen this before, okay?" Dean motioned between himself and Sam, and Mac squinted. "Wes and Deputy Harris were infected by something in that fog. Now, I know it sounds crazy —"

"No, it sounds like we should call the CDC."

Alex scoffed at the sheriff's suggestion. "That's not going to do any good. Besides, we don't have time for them to fly in. That fog's here now."

"Found Deputy Harris." Sam pointed to the computer screen, drawing all attention back onto him. "Looks like she's on Main Street heading this way." He pushed himself to his feet with a glance back at his brother, and Dean nodded.

"Alright, we'll handle Harris," he decided, and Alex jumped to her feet, her grace twisting nervously within her chest as Dean added, "Just please, get out, tell everybody they need to stay inside, seal up their windows — everything. Do it."

Alex followed Sam and Dean out into the parking lot, and her eyes turned towards the approaching clouds. They no longer looked like storm clouds; Alex could see the thick waves of fog rolling through the sky as it loomed just beyond the edge of town. Pedestrians lined the street, some watching the impending fog, others going about their daily business. A police car sat in the middle of the street, the flashing lights drawing the attention of the gathering crowd.

"Hey." Dean pointed towards a couple who were crossing the street. "Get them out of here." He didn't wait to see if either listened to his order, and Alex glanced over at Sam to make sure that he followed the command before she hurried after Dean.

The door to the vehicle swung open, and Deputy Jan Harris stepped out, swaying slightly as her feet touched the ground. Black veins flowed outwards from her chest, stretching up her neck and down her arms to where her fingers tightly grasped a black pistol. "I tried to kill myself." Her voice shook as she spoke, and blank eyes sought out Dean. "But she won't let me. She has a message — for you, Dean Winchester."

"Amara?" Dean looked around the street, but it was empty, and Alex felt him stiffen beside her. "Is she here?"

Jan shook her head. "No. But her words have been echoing in my head ever since I took a breath of that fog."

"Did she tell you to kill your husband?" Alex's words had the deputy's eyes turning down onto her, and the angel slid forward to put herself in front of Dean as she saw the gun tremble in the woman's hands.

"Okay, listen to me." Sam stopped at Alex's side, and the angel spread her wings out to try and keep him back. "This is an infection. Put the gun down, let us help you —"

The gun twitched in Jan's hands again, and Alex pushed Sam back with a wary arm. "It's not an infection." Jan's voice shook before it grew stronger. "She says it's a mirror. She's showing us the truth."

"The Darkness." Dean's voice had Jan lifting her gun towards him, and Alex jumped forward to put herself in the path of the muzzle.

"The light was just a lie." The gun went off, and three shots echoed through the air. Alex felt one bullet hit her chest, just below the collarbone, and she flinched at the impact, but it was the only one. The other two bullets hadn't simply missed her — Alex would have heard them whizzing past — and the angel's head whipped around.

Mac stood off to their left, his gun lifted towards Jan. The deputy swayed on her feet before she stumbled and fell, black pus bubbling up from her mouth. Two holes punctured the front of her uniform, and the blue fabric staining black with thick, hot blood. She shuddered, brown eyes stretched up towards the darkening sky, and Alex stepped back as Dean rushed past her to kneel at the woman's side. "It will all be over soon." Jan gasped out the words, barely audible. "He's not gonna save them. It's all going away ... forever." Her eyes turned onto Dean, and she gasped for one last breath as she whispered out, "But not you, Dean."

Her body quivered one last time as it died, and Alex's wings drew in tight as the air around them grew heavier as the life left her body. "Dean ..." she began, but she was overshadowed by Sam's shout.

"Dean." He grabbed Alex as he spoke, and she spun around to find him pointing down the street. "Dean!"

The thick white fog was billowing down the road, overtaking cars and people alike. "We have to get them out of here." Alex's wings flittered as she looked around the street, her eyes stretched wide at the sight of the townspeople around. "Hey!" She bolted towards the nearest crowd of people; they stepped back as she slid to a stop in front of them, and the angel dug around in her jacket for her badge. "Agent Williams. I need you all to get inside and seal up your houses now. Do not let that fog get in, okay?" Her wings flared up when the civilians didn't answer, and she repeated, "Okay?"

The group nodded, some rushing out their agreement as they hurried away, and Alex turned to watch Sam and Dean split up. Sam made a beeline for a car near the intersection, banging on the windows to attract the couple's attention, and Dean started towards the other side of the street, pointing away from the fog as he gave his orders.

The fog was rolling closer, picking up speed as it went. It overtook two men who had just stepped out of an apartment complex, and Alex shifted back as she watched them start to cough. "Sam," she warned, and the hunter's head snapped in her direction. "We need to get going."

Sam hesitated, his eyes drifting back towards the infected, and Dean ran up to Alex's side, his fear prickling at her grace. "Come on, Sam! Let them go." He waited only until Sam started towards him before he bolted down the street, and Alex did the same, letting Sam pass her before she lengthened her stride. The fog was upon them, licking at her heels, and Alex pushed herself faster. They barreled through the front doors of the police station, and Alex almost tripped as she slid to a stop, her head whipping back in time to see Dean slam the door shut.

"Agent Ehart?" Mac stood at the far end of the room, a handheld receiver in his hand. "Radio's dead."

"You have any duct tape?" Dean rushed over to him, leaving Alex alone by the glass door. The fog was rolling up towards the building, and Alex's grace lifted to her eyes as she peered deeper into the white mist. She could see the black shapes of people stumbling about, their screams and gasps echoing in her ear, and her feet carried her a step back before she even realized it. "Sam? Alex!" Dean's shouts had her reluctantly turning away, and she jerked back as a roll of duct tape flew in her direction. "Seal up that door," Dean ordered, and Alex's nails scrabbled against the slick tape as she listened to him tell Sam to do the same to the windows in the back.

She started in the top corner, pressing the duct tape in between the door and its frame in an attempt to keep the fog from sneaking through, but the progress was slow, her attention constantly being drawn to the scene that lay on the other side of the glass. People staggered through the fog, their skin marred with black, bulging veins as the infection took hold. They converged on the police station, and Alex jumped back a fist thudded against the glass of the front door. "Dean!" She pressed the last strip of tape along the bottom of the door before she scurried further into the station.

She wove through the small crowd of people to find the brothers in the back of the station, ceiling up the last of the windows and vents. "Hey." Dean barely spared her a glance. "Did you finish?"

"Yeah, but that door out there's not going to hold long. They're trying to break through." Alex cast a worried look back towards the front of the station. "Do you think ... I'm worried that Amara is after us." She tugged nervously on Lucifer's grace; it remained as small and solid as ever, but the fact that it was still there left her with more comfort than she had before. "You heard what Jan said," she added quietly. Sam's brow knit in confusion, and he looked over into Dean's dark face. "I don't think these people are safe as long as they're here with us."

Glass shattered from behind them, and Alex spun around. "Mac." Dean pointed towards the far offices, his voice deepening in authority and fear. "Take everyone and get them into one of those rooms." He hurried towards the front, and Alex and Sam rushed after him. The air was thick with panic, and Alex struggled through the crowd as Mac tried to direct them further into the station.

The broken glass belonged to the front door, and infected arms stretched through the hole, slick with their blood as the jagged glass sliced their skin. "Shit." Fog flowed inwards, its tendrils curling along the floor, and Alex rushed forward to lock the front door. It clicked shut, and she turned to go, but a hand caught her by the collar of her jacket and pulled.

The jerk pulled her off her feet, and Alex's knees collided with the floor as her jacket was ripped free from the infected's hands. The fog billowed, disturbed by her presence, and Alex spluttered as it filled the air around her. She heard Sam shout her name, and she scrambled to her feet and bolted towards him, dropping to the ground as Sam and Dean slammed the set of metal safety doors shut behind her. "Get back," she heard Dean order, and she pushed herself up to her knees as her grace rose inside of her. She could feel the fog in her lungs, feel how its cold darkness spread through her veins, and her grace fought back against it in vain. The infection was spreading; she could see it in her hands, crawling beneath the skin.

"She's infected." Alex heard Mac speak from across the room, and she pushed herself to her knees as her wings tremored. She could hear Dean shouting commands, and she closed her eyes, pushing back against the darkness in her chest. The next thing she knew, Sam's arms were around her, pulling her away from the door.

"Sam, let's go!" Dean paused halfway across the room, but the Winchester beside her didn't budge.

"We can't leave her, Dean!" Sam hauled Alex to her feet, and the angel's chest contracted in a violent cough. "I can't —" He cut off, and Alex followed his gaze to the vent to their left. The duct tape had peeled away, and tendrils of fog were creeping their way into the room. "Shit. Dean!"

Sam let go of Alex, and the angel stepped forward, grabbing onto the wall as her legs shook. "Wait, Sam, let me —" Her plea fell on deaf ears as Sam moved forward, reaching up to press the tape back into place. It didn't stick, and the fog rolled through. He coughed as it drifted into his lungs, and Alex grit her teeth as she turned to Dean. "Get those people to safety," she ordered. A spasm through her grace had her sinking to the ground, and she grunted in pain. "We'll seal you up."

"No." Dean's eyes stretched wide as he watched the black tendrils creep beneath Sam's skin, but his voice remained as firm as ever. "I'm not leaving Sam."

"Dean —"

"No!" Dean grabbed a roll of duct tape off of the table and hurried over to the office where Mac and the civilians hid.

"Alex." Sam dropped down at her side, taking her head in his hands as he looked into her eyes. "Hey, hey, you okay?" Alex managed a grimace, and the Winchester lifted his voice. "Dean! Something's wrong. I think the fog's affecting her differently."

"Who would've thought it'd affect angels at all, huh?" Dean's response was rushed and distracted, and Alex reached up to put a hand on Sam's neck to steady herself. Her grace prickled against his skin, and she tried to push it inwards to burn away the darkness, but it went limp with a shudder.

She leaned up against the wall and Sam followed, keeping her close as he reclined. "Don't know if we're gonna make it out of this one," Alex joked, but the words were wheezed out. She reached down for Lucifer's grace, desperate for its comfort, but it refused to move even as the infection coursed past it; if anything, it seemed to draw further back.

"Hey, hey, hey." That was Dean, and Alex opened up her eyes. Another window shattered from somewhere in the station, and Alex stifled a groan as the infection wormed its way into her stomach, chewing away at her grace. The fog was everywhere, creeping in through the vent, pouring in through the windows. "There's no quitting here, okay?"

"Dean ... we were never gonna make it."

"Sam, listen to me." Dean crouched down in front of his brother, his voice sharp and anxious. "This — this isn't you talking, guys. It's the fog." His words were almost lost beneath the roars of the infected, and Alex's head tilted towards the screams that emanated from the closet. The bottom part of the door remained unsealed, and the fog drifted inwards, consuming those inside.

"You were gonna choose Amara over me." Sam was still talking as the infection spread up his neck. "Over us, over everything." Dean's eyes stretched wide, and Sam coughed, shifting to sit up straighter. "I — I'm sorry. I didn't mean that, Dean. I ..." He swallowed, searching to find the strength to speak. "I can't fight this. You gotta go. You have to get out before you're infected, too." Hesitation flickered across Dean's face, and when Alex's body shuddered, Sam's voice rose. "Go before one of us hurts you!"

"No. I'm not leaving you. Ever." Dean's voice drifted off into the distance as the infection rose up within Alex, reaching her head, and she sagged into Sam. She could feel the darkness in him rising, could feel the convulsions that wracked his body, and she pushed the last remaining fragment of her grace into him as the blackness pulled her down.

Somehow, she was still alive; she could hear Dean screaming, but the words were muffled, their meaning unclear. Her shoulder was growing warm — no, not just warm, hot. It was burning, but Alex couldn't find the strength to move away.

Suddenly the pain grew sharper, Dean's voice grew clearer, and Alex's eyes snapped open as her grace exploded within her, twisting through her limbs and flashing in her eyes. The darkness was gone from her soul; she could feel it melting away like the morning dew. "What —"

She felt Dean's hand reach under her for Sam's pocket, and she shifted aside so he could pull out what had burned against Alex's grace. Sam's hand moved to the back of Alex's neck, and she let him pull her head into his shoulder, her wings flitting in exhaustion as she watched Dean's hand retreat. What had burned so fiercely against her didn't seem to affect his bare skin, and Alex screwed up her eyes against the light with which it glowed. The fog around them began to dissipate in its presence, and Alex turned her head away, burying it in the crook of Sam's shoulder as she took a moment to regain her composure. "It's okay." She heard the words murmured into her ear, and she reluctantly pulled back away from Sam as a wave of nausea churned her stomach.

The screaming had stopped; the entire town was silent and still. The black veins had faded from Sam's skin — a quick look down at her own hands proved the same. "What —" She swallowed back the word as she let her eyes drift back down onto the object in Dean's hand.

It took her a moment to place it. The glowing light made it hard to identify the details on the object, but the shape of Dean's old amulet was all too clear. "You kept it?" Dean whispered, barely audible, but the question was overshadowed by a bigger, unspoken thought, one that had a shiver passing through Alex's wings. Castiel had once told them that this amulet burned hot in the presence of God. If that was the case, then this ...

Dean slowly rose to his feet, and Sam followed, large hands helping Alex do the same. The office door across from them opened, revealing Mac and the townspeople, their skin clear of the infection. "Dean, what's going on?" Alex shifted closer to Sam as she spoke, her grace hesitantly stretching out. "The fog — it's just gone."

Dean didn't answer, and Alex slowly followed him out of the police station, her wings drawn in close as she walked on unsteady feet. Sam's hand rested on her back, a silent support as they stepped out onto the street. The clouds were gone, allowing the sun's light to shine down upon the scene in front of them. Cars lined the street, their doors thrown open from the earlier panic, but it was all that remained of the fear that had gripped the town. Its citizens were rising to their feet, slowly at first, their eyes alight with wonder and confusion.

Blonde hair caught Alex's eye, and she watched Deputy Jan Harris rise to her feet, unharmed and uninfected. From how the brother stiffened beside her, she knew they had noticed too. "You okay?" A familiar voice had Alex's wings quivering, and she turned towards the source. She recognized the voice, and she recognized the short, dark-haired man who stood in front of them, but it took a moment for the realization to sink in. She could see Dean's amulet glowing in his hand, pulsing the closer they drew; the corners of Chuck's eyes crinkled in a smile, but it faded as the three hunters came to a stop in front of him. "We should probably talk."

"What the hell's going on here, exactly?" It took Dean a moment to regain his composure, but when he did speak, his voice was sharp. The amulet was still glowing, somehow even brighter than before, and Alex hesitantly reached out with her grace. She could feel Chuck, but something blocked her from probing deeper, like a metal wall that burned hot from the midday sun.

Chuck's eyes flickered onto her, and the angel pulled back, her wings drawing in tightly around her. "I'm happy to ... fill in the blanks," he finally told Dean, "but maybe we should go somewhere where we could actually sit down."

Alex's wings twitched before falling low in deference, ready to obey, but Dean merely scoffed, and his fist closed around the amulet. "We're not going anywhere with you," he snapped. "Okay, how do we even know that you're really Chuck and just not some —"

The air around them changed, and for a second Alex was surrounded by pure energy, thick and sweet, and Alex's grace melted beneath it touch. She barely noticed how the air shifted around her, chilling as it faded into the bunker's stone walls. "— crazy spell or manifest...ation." Dean's word died in his throat, and Alex heard Sam let out a breathless gasp.

At what became clear as she lifted her eyes back onto Chuck. He wasn't alone; Kevin Tran stood behind him, his tousled hair a black mop upon his head. He appeared almost solid, but Alex could see the faint flickers as his soul danced upon the edge of the veil. "Guys!" Kevin's eyes lit up, and he stepped out from behind Chuck with a wide grin that quickly began to fade. "You look stressed. Especially you," he added over to Dean. Dean's jaw ticked, and Kevin's smile softened. "I-It's cool," he promised. "Trust Chuck. Whatever it is he needs you to do, he must think you can handle it. I always trusted you."

"Yeah, that ended well," Dean muttered.

"How ..." Alex breathed out the word, her voice growing stronger when no one jumped to speak over her. "Kevin — are you okay? We ... I thought you were with your mom."

"I was. And I, uh ... I am okay, given the circumstances —"

Chuck cleared his throat, and Kevin fell silent. "Yeah, I don't mean to interrupt. Kind of a plateful, here. And Kevin ..." He turned to face the prophet, his shoulders just barely rising and falling in a small, soft sigh, "you've been in the veil long enough. It's time you had an upgrade." With a wave of Chuck's hand, Kevin faded, and Alex watched as his glowing soul twisted up through the air and disappear from sight. Her wings quivered, exhausted by the exertion of how low she held them, and her body couldn't help but instinctively flinch as Chuck's eyes turned onto her. "I know this is a lot to take in," he began, and Alex's gaze dropped to the ground. "If you need to take a moment ..."

"I ..." Alex swallowed thickly, and she forced her eyes up onto Sam and Dean. "I'm going to go get changed," she finally muttered, not bothering to wait for a response before she hurried away; her legs felt like jelly, and they shook as she walked down the hall. Chuck was ... God. Somehow, the words didn't sit right upon her tongue, and she held back from speaking them aloud. How could that be? And after so long ...

She locked her door behind her, shakily changing out of her slacks and blouse before pulling on a grey shirt and a pair of jeans. How many times had she prayed to him? Anger pulsed through her, pushing past the awe, and her fingers tightened on the collar of her red flannel shirt. How could he choose this moment above all to reveal himself? She swiped her hands through her hair before she dropped down onto her bed. Her grace still vibrated within her, rejuvenated by the brush of Chuck's power, and Alex reached down past it to press against Lucifer. It remained cold, unyielding and unforgiving, and Alex reluctantly drew away. Just hold on a little longer, she pleaded, eyes turned up towards the concrete ceiling. We'll find you.

No answer came, and Alex reluctantly left the safety of her room and made her way down the hall towards the library. Sam and Dean had already managed to change, and both occupied the war room alongside Chuck. Sam was straddling one of the war room chairs, and Dean sat tucked up on the stone ledge that lined the library stairs, his arms folded defensively across his chest. "O-Okay, uh, 'Chuck' it is," Sam was saying, and Alex slipped behind him to settle down on the edge of the table. It creaked beneath her weight, and Sam hesitated, his eyes flickering onto her, and he stifled a sigh as he returned his attention onto Chuck. "I'm sorry. You — you're gonna have to, uh, give us a moment to start to process. We didn't even know you were around. I mean, I-I-I was hoping you were around," he quickly corrected. "I-I-I prayed, but I — but I didn't know if they got, uh, lost in the spam or if —"

"Sam?" Dean cut Sam off with a frown, and Sam's eyes went wide as he looked over at his brother. "Babbling."

Chuck shifted from where he sat perched on a stool, and Alex dropped her gaze to the ground as his eyes turned across the three of them. "I'm getting that not everyone's totally on board, here."

"Here's the thing, um ... Chuck." Dean's fingers drummed on his arm as he thought, and his eyes flickered down before they returned to hold Chuck's gaze. "And I mean no disrespect. Um ... I'm guessing you came back to help with the Darkness, and that's great. That's, you know ... it's fantastic. Um, but you've been gone a — a long, long time. And there's so much ...crap that's gone down on the Earth for thousands of years. I mean, plagues a-and wars, slaughters. And you were — I don't know — writing books, going to fan conventions. Were you even aware, o-or did you just tune it out?"

"Dean —"

"No, no." Chuck shook his head, and Alex fell silent. "He has every right to ask. I was aware, Dean."

"But you did nothing." Dean's voice grew stronger. "And, again, I-I'm not trying to piss you off. You know, I don't want to turn into a pillar of salt. But people — people pray to you. People build churches for you. They fight wars in your name, and you did nothing."

His voice cracked, but Chuck's face remained passive in the face of the emotional show. "You're frustrated," he observed. "I get it. Believe me, I was hands on — real hands on — for, wow, ages. I was so sure if I kept stepping in, teaching, punishing, that these beautiful creatures that I created ... would grow up. But it only stayed the same. And I saw that I needed to step away and let my baby find its way. Being involved is no longer parenting." Chuck heaved a sigh before he finished, "It's enabling."

Anger flashed in Dean's green eyes, but his voice remained quiet and sullen. "But it didn't get better."

Chuck was silent for a moment, his eyes falling to the ground as he contemplated his answer. "Well, I've been mulling it over, and from where I sit, I think it has."

"Well, from where I sit, it seems like you left us and are trying to justify it."

Alex winced at Dean's sharp tone, and even Chuck's soft smile faded. "I know you had a complicated upbringing, Dean, but don't confuse me with your dad." Dean's face darkened ever so slightly, but when he remained silent, Chuck turned his attention back towards the group. "That was brave of you to go up against the Darkness like that," he began, "but you need to understand this — she's relentless, a force behind human comprehension. It's the only reason I came off the sidelines."

Sam huffed, a sound of breathy amusement. "Must've been great being her brother, huh?"

Chuck didn't share in his humor. "It was the worse. Always telling me what to do, making me do what she wanted." His eyes darted between Sam and Dean. "You guys know how it is."

"Yeah, well, that's family for you." Alex finally spoke up, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the knees, and all eyes turned onto her. "Do you know where she is?"

Chuck shook his head. "No idea," he admitted. "She's warded herself specifically against me. What have you three come up with?"

Sam's lips pursed, and Dean let out a terse, scornful laugh. "Zip, and we've been trying to find her for months."

The news had Chuck's brow furrowing, but the expression was quickly suppressed. "Well ... it's just a matter of time. I've always had faith in you ... even if you didn't return the favor." Alex's gaze dropped to the ground, her fingers curling against the edge of the table, and she felt Chuck's eyes turned onto her. "Hey, uh, guys, do you think you can give Alex and I a few minutes?"

Alex shifted uncomfortably as Sam and Dean exited the room. Chuck remained silent, and Alex plucked at a loose thread on the sleeve of her shirt until she finally gained the confidence to speak. "Amara has Cas and Lucifer," she mumbled. "You — there has to be a way to find them. They can't hold out against her forever."

Chuck didn't immediately respond, and Alex's wings drew in tight as she heaved a sigh. The legs of his stool squeaked as he stood, and Alex felt him move to lean up against the table next to her. "Lucifer was my greatest hope and my bitterest disappointment," he finally said. "I trusted him, once upon a time, but now ..." His head turned onto her, and Alex forced herself to lift up her eyes. "I wouldn't have put him in that Cage if I thought, even for a second, that he could be trusted. I'm worried that, after all this time in prison, he's worse. And by now, he could have formed an alliance with Amara —"

"No." Alex surprised herself by cutting Chuck off, and her grace jerked nervously against her racing heart. "No," she repeated, softer this time but just as firm, "he wouldn't do that. He's out there, and Amara's hurting him!" She pressed her grace up against Lucifer's, her teeth grit to find that it still refused to move.

"You don't know that he wouldn't." Chuck's voice remained calm, almost irritatingly so, and Alex's feathers ruffled. "I was barely able to beat her back with Lucifer's help. If the two of them have teamed up, then there might be no stopping them."

Alex's fingers curled, her nails digging into her palms as she dropped her gaze to her lap. "Well, I'm getting them back," she promised under her breath. "With or without your help, I'm getting him back."

"I know you will." Chuck patted her knee, and Alex felt her grace twitch under the contact; she could feel the power that thrummed beneath his skin, overwhelming yet soft and sweet, but she couldn't bring herself to touch it no matter how desperately it was craved. "And I wish you the best of luck."

He rose to his feet and started towards the hall, but Alex jumped up, her wings stretching out to steady herself as her anger rose up within her. "You're just walking away?" Chuck paused; his eyebrows lifted, surprised at her outburst, and Alex's grace pulled back, but her anger fueled her words. "Is that all you do? Do you have any idea how — how many times I asked for your help? No — I didn't just ask, I begged. I reached the point where I was seconds away from ending it all, and you didn't do a thing. Not one single thing."

Her feathers ruffled outwards, furious at the faint smile that grew upon Chuck's face. "I heard your prayer. But sometimes the answers don't come in the way you expect." He stepped back into the room, and Alex's anger faltered. "That night, what stopped you?"

"From — from killing myself." Alex's jaw twitched as she remembered how the angel blade had pressed up against the soft flesh beneath her chin. "I found Ashiel. Someone had killed his mother and left him there alone."

"Ashiel?" Chuck tilted his head, and his eyes squinted as he studied her. "You're right — I'm sorry. I can see the confusion. The Hebrew language ... it's difficult to translate, considering that they have no vowels." With a wave of his hand, a small white slip of paper appeared in his hand, and he held it out to Alex. "His real name is Asahiel."

The paper disappeared, only to suddenly materialize in her hands, and Alex frowned down at the black scrawling across the slip of paper. She recognized it immediately; it had been paper tucked inside Ashiel's shirt. Asahiel, she corrected, and the name translated immediately within her mind. Made by God.

"The angels told you that they couldn't find his father, right? And that they couldn't find the body of the mother." Chuck stepped back, and the action had Alex snapping her jaw shut; when had it fallen open? "That's because they never existed. It wasn't just coincidence that you found him that night. I created Asahiel — Ashiel, if you want — for you. To save you."

"No." Alex's fist closed, crumpling the paper in her hand. "I — I saw a woman there. She had to have been his mom —"

"You saw what you needed to see," Chuck promised, and his hand came up to squeeze her shoulder. "You were put here for a reason, Alex. I knew that, one day, my creation would need you."

Once again, he turned to go, but Alex stopped him, her grace tugging sharply upon Lucifer's. "Wait!" she begged. "Please, what — what is this? Not even Lucifer knows how, and I ... I need to know. Why is this here?"

She felt warmth envelop her being as Chuck's eyes turned onto her, and her grace hummed within her chest. "Sometimes, things happen, and their purpose is what we make them." The warmth faded, and Chuck heaved a sigh. "Where's the guest room? I could use a shower." He waited for Alex to stammer out an answer before he walked away, leaving Alex standing alone in the war room.