January 19th, 2015
Aspen, Colorado

Alex pulled the motel sheets tighter around her lithe frame, groaning into the thin, flat pillow. She could hear movement in the room, heavy footsteps that could only belong to Sam, and she pulled the comforter tighter over her head. Her side groaned out its pain, not fond of the new position, and Alex reluctantly rolled over to stare up at the ceiling. She heard the tall hunter call out a "Morning," but her only response was to grunt as she ran her fingers over her ribs. The bullet hole sustained in Washington was a weeks gone, the wound a distant memory, but, particularly in the early morning, the pain lingered on.

The mattress shifted as someone sat down on the end, and the angel slowly sat up, gaze sweeping across the room just in time to watch Sam shrug on a light v-neck t-shirt. "Morning. Where's Dean at?" Alex glanced over at the bathroom, but the open door revealed that the Winchester was not inside. "Usually he's still asleep at this point."

"Dunno." Sam's shoulders rose and fell. "Probably out working on the car. The hood was rattling a bit last night." The mattress creaked as he rose up and turned to face her. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine, actually. Best sleep I've had in weeks. What about you?" Her eyes turned onto the bed across from her, the sheets tucked neatly into the sides, and she frowned. "You did sleep, right?"

"Yeah, of course. I got a few hours." Her concern was brushed off with little interest, and Sam exited the room without another word. Alex watched him go, her frown deepening even further as she leaned over to pull her bag closer, and the angel pulled on a thin sweatshirt over her tank top. Zuriel's grace sat in her chest, colder and stronger than any grace she had had before, and the lights flickered above her head as it reached out curiously. Her control was still unsteady, but she was strong again. Alex determinedly pulled her grace back in, tucking it deep within her chest and rising to her feet as her curiosity got the better of her, and she followed Sam out the door.

"—long enough to find us a case," Dean was saying, and Alex rolled up the sleeves on her sweatshirt, surprised to remember that, even in mid-January, it was still warm in the southern states. She crossed the sidewalk to stand at Sam's side, bare toes wiggling in slight discomfort against the pebbled concrete.

"Long enough to ..." Sam blinked in surprise. "I take it that means you're feeling back to normal?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever normal is in our world." Dean picked up a newspaper that was balanced on the edge of the open trunk, and he handed it to Sam. "So, huh, right here. A teacher in an all-girls school went missing in Flint, Michigan. She was heading to her car, disappeared, and nobody's seen her since."

Sam flipped through the article, shaking his head. "Dean, there's nothing here that even remotely suggests there is a case," he admonished, and he handed the paper over to Alex with a dismissive click of his tongue.

"There is nothing that even remotely suggests there isn't a case," Dean retorted lightly. "Boom! Look, look." He pointed to himself and Sam before motioning in Alex's direction. "You and me, FBI. She goes undercover. We get here one of those uniforms — you know, tie, short skirts. She'll fit right in."

Sam rolled his eyes, and Alex snorted. "Dude. There are some many things wrong with that. Like, most importantly, you're thinking of porn. Also, you need to lay off the tween flicks, because there's no way I'll pass off as a high schooler. Five years ago, yeah, it worked, but not now." Dean looked skeptical, and she added, "I'm twenty three, dude."

"First of all, nothing you said is true. Secondly, you're twenty four — happy birthday." Alex's brow furrowed in confusion at the news, scrambling at her pockets for her phone to check the date, and Dean turned to his brother to add, "And come on! Guys. Case or not ... out there, hunting, it's the only normal I know." He slammed the trunk and turned to face Sam and Alex. "Pack up. We got work to do."

He moved back towards the motel, and Alex looked up at Sam. "Wait. So where is this case exactly?" In response, Sam pointed to the top of the article, and the angel's face furrowed as she read the headlines. "Michigan. Why does it have to be someplace cold?"

She tossed the paper onto the car with a noise of disgust and followed Dean back into the motel. The hunter was nowhere in sight, but the running water and closed bathroom door gave away his location. Beer bottles and empty pizza boxes decorated the ceramic counter, and Alex paused to half-heartedly check if any food remained from last night's meal.

"You should probably get packed." The door squealed as Sam entered, and Alex let the box fall closed. "Dean's gonna want to leave as soon as possible."

"We have time. He's in the shower." However, the angel crossed over to her bed and pulled her bag up off of the floor. "You think there's actually something here? I mean in Michigan. With the teacher."

Sam hesitated, and when he spoke, his voice was slow. "Hard to say. But from what that article said ... there's no body, no blood, nothing to suggest a kill. And kidnappings — they're not exactly uncommon." He ended with a small, half-hearted shrug. "I guess we won't know until we learn more."

The water turned off, and Alex cast a glance back towards the bathroom. "I guess keeping him busy is the best we can do," she agreed quietly. "He seemed to handle the werewolf thing just fine, but who knows how far he can slip." She paused, eyes flicking up to Sam, and she sighed at the concern darkening his gaze. "Listen. If working with him and Crowley taught me one thing, it's that if you give him a bit of leeway during the good times, he'll be more willing to listen when things get bad. And the less time he has to worry about the Mark ..." She trailed off with a shake of her head. "There's nothing else to do but wait."

Flint, Michigan

The Impala rolled to a stop alongside a brick building, and Alex stirred from her position in the backseat. She reached up to rub a crick in her neck, stifling a groan as she watched Sam shift his phone to his other ear. "Yeah, I certainly appreciate it," he was saying. "You got it. Thanks, officer." He hung up, and the Impala's engine died. "So," he announced as he got out of the car, "the last place Ms. Chandler was seen by anyone was in the auditorium. Turns out she's the drama teacher."

"Ugh." Dean's face wrinkled in momentary disgust, and he slammed the door shut behind him. "Theatre kids. Great."

"What?" Sam stopped, voice sharpening in confusion and indignation, and Dean shrugged. "I was a theatre kid."

Dean's green eyes sparkled in amusement, and he let out a scoff "Barely. You did Our Town, which was cool. But then, you did that crappy musical."

"The crappy — Oklahoma?" Sam looked down at Alex for support, but the angel merely shrugged, unwilling to pick a side. Seeing her lack of support, Sam's lips pursed as he turned back to his brother. "Hugh Jackman got cast off of Oklahoma."

"You ran tech, Wolverine." Dean chuckled as he continued across the parking lot, and Alex barely stifled a laugh of her own. She heard Sam mutter a good-natured, "Shut up," before he followed them into the school. The main hallway was brightly lit, and Alex's dress shoes squeaked against the tile as she fell in step at Dean's side, grey eyes sweeping across the empty hall. "Alright, follow my lead." Dean's shoulders rolled back as he stepped into the principal's office, and Alex hesitated, taking her time to read the name that hung on the wooden door. Salazar.

"Principle Salazar." The Winchester spoke cordially, and Alex's attention turned to the dark-haired lady that stood in the doorway. "We're here about the disappearance of Ms. Chandler. We're with the FBI."

Alex didn't miss the surprise that flashed across the women's face, but the display of the Winchester's badges was all that it took to reassure her. "Why are you here?" she asked, her voice thin with confusion. "The police have already come by, and I've already given my official report."

"We're just here to have a look around," Sam promised. "Captain Muñoz said that Mrs. Chandler had been last seen at the auditorium?"

"Yes. The drama department is putting on a new play." The downwards twitch of the principal's lips was enough to display her displeasure, but her voice lost none of its placid formality. "In fact, they should be rehearsing right now. I can take you there if you wish to speak with her students."

"That would be wonderful. Thank you." Sam dipped his head, and Alex stepped out of the way so the principal could pass by. Sam and Dean followed, leaving the angel to take up the rear as they made their way down the hallway.

"Here." The principal motioned to a set of double doors. "If you need anything else, let me know."

"Great. Thanks, Ms. Salazar." Sam shifted forward as the woman disappeared back down the hall, and with a shrug, he pushed open the doors and stepped inside. Alex slipped past him, blinking to adjust to the dark auditorium. The house lights were set to low, and the stage was lit, but the angel's attention was drawn immediately elsewhere.

"You idjits!" The grumpy yet high-pitched grumble had Alex's head snapping back in surprise, and her sharp gaze swept over to a flannel-clad girl, complete with a ragged cap and fake beard. Just across the floor stood another teen, this one dressed in a oversized trench coat and tie, and Alex felt a rush of warmth flood through her — what exactly the emotion was, she couldn't tell, as it was immediately replaced by anger.

The lights on the stage suddenly flashed brighter, and the sound of a piano filled the room. "John and Mary, husband and wife ..." The singing was coming from a girl on the stage, dressed scrupulously like Dean, and the rest of the lyrics were lost as Alex choked out a barely audible noise.

The looks on Sam and Dean's faces were enough to match her own, and Alex quickly shut her mouth, eyes squeezing closed as she regained her composure from the sudden onslaught of shock and familiarity. "What the fuck is this?" Her words were drowned out by a recorded scream, coming from the stage, and suddenly the music died off.

"What in the holy ..." Dean started, but he trailed off, unsure how to even continue.

Sam picked up where his brother left off, his own voice just as breathless. "If there is a case ... it probably has something to do with all of this."

"You think?" Dean couldn't tear his gaze off of the stage, and Alex elbowed him in the ribs as two of the girls approached.

The first was dressed like a director, complete with a beret, and the look on her face was one of intense direction masked by excitement. "Hi!" she announced, her eyes wide as she took in the three formally dressed adults. "Oh my gosh ... are you guys from the publisher?" Without waiting for an answer, she pointed to herself and her friend in turn. "I'm Marie, writer slash director. This is Maeve, my stage manager, and I was just, uh, directing—" She cut off when Sam pulled out his badge, and Alex hurried to do the same.

"I'm special agent Smith," Sam announced, and with a glance downstage, he suddenly reached out to keep Dean from revealing his own identification. Following his gaze, Alex felt a blush spread across her face at the sight of two actors holding out their own fake identifications. "This is my partner, special agent —"

"S-Smith," Dean stuttered.

Alex looked down at her own badge and hastily shoved it deep into her pocket. Keira Smith. Fuck. "Smith," she briskly introduced. "Absolutely no relation," she quickly added. "On the bright side, you'll never get our names wrong —" Realizing she was starting to ramble, Alex snapped her jaw shut loud enough for all to hear. "We're just here about the disappearance of —"

"There is no singing in Supernatural!" Dean's sudden outburst had Alex's eyes widening in surprise. For the first time, her eyes took in the banner that hung over the stage. Supernatural, painted in large, blood-red letters.

"Well," Maeve began defensively, "this is Marie's interpretation."

Dean scoffed loud enough to cut the teenager off. "Well, I mean, if there was singing, you know ... and that's a big if — if there was singing, it would be classic rock. Not this Andrew Floyd Webster crap —"

"Andrew Lloyd Webster," Sam corrected under his breath, and Dean's face twisted in confusion.

"Well," Marie began, not catching the whispered exchange, "you know, we do sing a cover of Carry on Wayward Son in the second act."

"Really?"

"It's a classic!" Both Marie and Dean spoke at the same time, their indignation clear at Sam's disapproval, and Alex rolled her eyes.

Sam cleared his throat, hazel eyes narrowing slightly. "Right. Anyways. W-We're here to talk about the disappearance of Ms. Chandler. Any change you two saw here, before she vanished?"

Marie and Maeve exchanged looks as they thought. "Um, yeah," Marie finally said. "She left around, what? Nine thirty?" Maeve nodded in agreement, and Alex took the time to turn her gaze out across the auditorium once more. She recognized more of the characters, now that she knew what to look for: Bobby, Sam, Dean, Castiel. Mary Winchester. John. "— had a nasty divorce last year," the young director was saying as Alex turned her attention to the humans in front of her. "Most of the time, she's sipping on her, uh, 'grown-up juice,' or passed out. Usually in that order."

"Yeah, well, I don't blame her." Dean spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, but his words seemed mostly for himself. "I'm gonna need fifty jello shots and an hose-down down to get this stink off of me."

The girl — Maeve — made a move towards Dean, and Alex snapped to attention, ready to jump in, but Sam was faster. "Uh, Maeve, right?" He put out a hand to keep the young teen's attention on her. "You're the stage manager?"

"And I understudy Jody Mills." The girl's voice was flat as her brown eyes reluctantly moved from Dean, and Alex's eyebrows lifted as she turned her gaze back onto the stage, trying to find the caricature of her friend.

Dean seemed to share in her surprise, but Sam spoke over his brother's confusion. "That's great!" he insisted. "That's great. Jody Mills, that's great." He trailed off slightly, looking back at Alex, and the angel's lips set tightly. "So!" He quickly turned away. "How about you give a ... a behind the scenes tour while your director shows my partners Ms. Chandler's office? Deal?" Both girls gave a nod, and Sam smiled. "Great. Give us a moment, please."

The two walked away, and Dean's face twisted in disgust. "I'm gonna fucking throw up," he grumbled, and Alex lifted an eyebrow as the stage manager threw Dean a nasty look over her shoulder before she moved out of earshot.

"I mean, I gotta say, it's kind of charming." Sam's voice was hollow, his spirit not behind his words, and his eyes swept the auditorium. "The production value, and the ... no?" He looked between Alex and Dean. "No, no. I — I'm gonna check for EMF. You look for ... cursed objects." He hurried away, and Alex's fingers opened and closed in a fist, itching for something to calm her nerves.

"Keep your angel eyes open, would ya?" Dean muttered over to her, and, in response, Alex briefly let her grace swell up, her grey eyes flashing blue. "Great." Dean thudded her on the shoulder, and the light died away. "Yeah, do that." He turned and made his way down the stairs, and Alex followed, casting another look around the stage as she tried to pick out the other nondescript characters. They climbed up the stage stairs and circled around backstage, passing by a variety of cardboard and chipboard sets. A table lay just off of stage right, an organized mess of props, and Dean paused to pass his fingers over them. "How did you get all this stuff?" he asked curiously.

"Some parts homemade, some parts repurposed. All of it, awesome —" Marie turned back to them, and her eyes went wide at the sight of Dean picking up a orange-tipped plastic rifle. "Don't." She roughly took the toy from the Winchester's hands. "Please, don't."

"What's that?" Alex pointed to a white prop that lay on the far side of that table, head tipped in confusion.

"It's Castiel's angel blade." Pride lined the director's voice, darkened with a hint of condescension, and Alex narrowed her eyes.

"Really?" She picked it up, twisting it curiously in her hands before she placed it back down on the table with a shake of her head. "Cause it kind of looks like a plastic dagger spray-painted white." She subconsciously reached back, fingers touching the handle of her angel blade that rested beneath her shirt, and the angel yanked her hand away when she realized what she was doing.

Marie's face reddened, and she opened her mouth, ready to retort, but Dean spoke first. "What are they doing?" He pointed ahead of them to the stage, and Alex turned to see two teenagers — Sam and Dean — standing in the spotlight, heads bent together as they spoke beside a cardboard cut out of a black car.

"Oh!" Marie's anger dissipated. "Um, they're rehearsing the B.M. scene."

"The ... bowel movement scene?" Dean's head recoiled in confusion, and he looked down at Alex; the angel could only shake her head, unsure what was meant.

"No!" The young director rolled her eyes at their ignorance. "The boy melodrama scene. You know, the scene where the boys get together, and they're — they're driving, or leaning against Baby. Drinking a beer, sharing their feelings." Her voice grew soft with longing, and Alex bit back a scoff. "The two of them. Alone. But together. Bonded. United. The power of brotherly —"

"Why are they standing so close together?" Dean cut into her monologue, lips turned down into a thin frown.

"Um ... reasons."

Alex looked up at Dean, and the Winchester's green eyes flashed at the realization. "Reasons?" Alex repeated. "You — you guys do know that they're brothers, right?"

"Well, duh!" Marie rolled her eyes. "But ... subtext."

"Hey!" Dean lifted his voice so the actors on stage could hear him, and the two turned in surprise at his tone. "Why don't you take some substeps back there, ladies?" The actors each took a step back, and, satisfied, Dean turned back to Marie. "Uh, how about you show us Ms. Chandler's office?"

Marie took off towards the hall with a toss of her head, and Alex shrugged over at Dean, unsure what to say. She fell in step beside the Winchester as they exited the dark auditorium and entered the white tiled halls. The dark office of the drama teacher could be seen near the end of the hall, and Alex shoved her hands into her pocket as Marie opened the door and stepped inside.

The lights flickered on, and Alex's grey eyes scoured the small room. Empty bottles lined every surface, and a large paper-mache robot head sat in the middle of the desk. "Is this hers?" Dean asked, mindlessly motioning to the prop as he circled around the desk, taking in the mess of liquor and papers.

"No!" Marie quickly snatched the head off of the desk, her eyes lighting up in delight. "That's a prop from act two. I've been looking for that, actually."

"Prop?" Alex's face went blank in surprise, and she scoffed loudly. "There's no robots or aliens in Supernatural. You know that, right?"

"Well, not canonically, no," Marie retorted hotly. "But, this is transformative fiction."

A smirk grew across Dean's face. "You mean fan fiction," he said, while Alex added, "bad fan fiction," under her breath.

"Call it whatever you like, okay?" Marie stepped back out of the office, her prop gripped tightly in her arms. "It's inspired by Carver Edlund's books. With ... a few embellishments. But, as you know, Chuck stopped writing after Swan Song."

"After — Swan Song? What?" Alex's attention snapped back onto the director, and one of the liquor bottles she had been studying tipped over. "I thought he stopped writing after you went to hell," she hissed up at Dean before her voice grew in anger. "I swear if I ever see that curly-haired alcoholic again, I, I'll ..."

"I just couldn't leave it the way that it was," Marie was still insisting, and Alex glowered after her before she followed Dean out of the office. "I mean, Dean not hunting anymore, living with Lisa? Sam, somehow back from Hell, but not with Dean?" She paused, looking back for support, but when none came, she shrugged. "So, I wrote my own ending."

"You wrote your own ending," Dean repeated. "With spaceships?"

"And robots. And some ninjas. And them, Dean becomes a woman. It's just for a few scenes," she quickly insisted as Dean's gaze sharpened.

"Alright, Shakespeare." Dean's voice became smug. "You know that I can actually tell you what really happened with the — uh, Sam and Dean? A friend of mine hooked me up with the, uh, unpublished unpublished books." The Winchester smirked down at Alex before he launched into his tale. "So, Sam came back from Hell. But without a soul. Then, Cas brought in a bunch of leviathans from Purgatory. They lost Bobby, Cas went insane. And then, Cas and Dean got stuck in Purgatory. Sam hit a dog. Alex found a kid. They met a prophet named Kevin, and they lost him, too. Then Sam endured a series of trials in an attempt to close the gates of hell which nearly cost him his life. Alex finally got laid, and then the angels fell. And Dean? Dean became a demon. Knight of Hell, actually."

"He wasn't a Knight of Hell," Alex quickly corrected. "He just liked to say he was. And Alex had to babysit him." She watched as Dean rolled his eyes, and she shoved her hands into her pocket as they stepped back into the auditorium behind stage, hissing out a suddenly realized, "Wait, why is me getting laid part of your highlights reel?"

Marie turned to face them before Dean could response. "Wow ..." she breathed. "That is some of the worst fanfiction that I've ever heard!" She must not have seen the offense on the hunters' faces, because she continued, "I mean, seriously, I don't know where your friend found this garbage. I am not saying that ours in a masterpiece, or anything, but geez!" She laughed, and Alex's hands tightened in her pockets as she added, "I'll have to send you some fic links later —"

"What are they doing?" Dean pointed past the stage to where two actors — of Dean and Castiel — were standing, fingers linked as they stood facing each other, lips moving in quiet words.

"Um .. Kids these days call it hugging."

Alex frowned at the condescending tone, and she asked, "And is that 'hugging' in the show?"

"Oh, no. Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in real life." Marie brushed off Alex's question. "Although," she added after a second, "we do explore the nature of Destiel in act two. Oh, it's just subtext," she was quick to promise. "But then again, you know, you can't spell subtext without ... s-e-x."

Dean's shoulders fell, his face tight, and Alex cleared her throat. "Sure, great. Not canon at all. Okay, so ..." she began, drawing the attention off of Dean, "I recognize most of these characters here. I think. But I haven't, uh, I haven't seen Alex. Where's she?"

"Oh, we took her out." Marie waved off the question without much thought. "I felt that the play would work better without her. She doesn't do much for the story, you know? I mean, that whole 'angel' thing was creepy, and the whole 'falling into the universe?' " Marie scoffed loudly. "Completely cliche — trust me; any fanfiction that starts that way is automatically awful."

Alex's grace flicked out in anger, twisting through the room, and a shout of surprise almost drowned out the crackle of flames as a trash can suddenly caught on fire. A hand came down over Alex's head, and the angel rubbed her hair as she scowled up at Dean. "Thanks for your time. We'll be in touch." Dean stalked off stage, and Alex followed.

Sam was waiting for them outside the auditorium, leaning up against the walls, and he straightened up as they stepped into view. "What'd you learn?"

"I think Alex has the right idea. Burn the whole place." The words were grumbled out as the door swung shut behind them. "This whole thing —" He shook his head as he lead the way towards the front door. "Apparently they, uh, 'explore the nature of Destiel in act two.' " His voice grew high and nasally as he mimicked Marie's tone before it dropped back down in disgust. "As in me. And Cas. Me and Cas. Together."

"I don't understand." Sam walked over to the Impala. "I mean, shouldn't it be ... Deanstiel?" He leaned up against the car, face twisted in thought.

"Really?" Dean snapped. "That's your issue with this?" He circled around the car with a shake of his head.

"No, of course it's not my issue." The smirk on Sam's face was enough to negate his words. "You know, how about Sastiel? Samstiel?"

"Calex." Alex suddenly said. "Me and Cas. I feel like we should have a ship name, since, you know, we're actually a thing." She looked over at Dean, and, taking pity, added to Sam, "Did you hear that I'm not in the play at all? Totally took me out. Me. Oh, and also Chuck wrote more books that end when Dean goes to hell."

"Yeah, I heard." Sam brushed off Alex's indignance. "But look, guys. No EMF. No hexbags. None of the props are even remotely hincky. Other than the Charlie Kaufman of it all, I got nothing. You?"

"In Ms. Chandler's office, there's just a pile of empty bottles and regret. She's just probably face down in a bar somewhere. Or a ditch." Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright, so what? This — this all ... this whole musical thing, everything it's ... it's all just a coincidence? There's no case?"

"Unless you're seeing something I'm not, no. There's no case here." Sam watched as Dean unlocked the Impala and pulled open the door before he added, "CasDean?"

"Shut your face!" Dean's head snapped up angrily, and Sam snickered. "Get in the car!" Alex and Sam climbed inside, and Dean slammed the door behind him as he followed suit.

The call came in late that night. Another missing person from St. Alphonso's Academy, reported the sheriff, a student this time; they had been part of the drama club, having left after practice, but this time, there was a witness.

Alex pushed her way under the police tape, pulling her canvas grey jacket tighter around her body to keep out the biting night wind. Police sirens lit up the air with flashes of red and blue, and the angel shifted closer to Sam as they drew closer. "Sheriff Lindsey." The Winchester lifted his voice above the wind. "I'm Agent Smith. We talked on the phone."

"Ah, yes. Glad to see you came over so quickly." The balding man rubbed his hands together as he took in the three of them. "Your partners?" he guessed, and when Sam nodded, the sheriff waved them forward. "The girl's name is Maggie Sharp. The witness said they had argued about some play, and when Maggie walked away, something jumped her and dragged her off. Witness followed but lost sight of them behind those dumpsters."

Dean disappeared off to the left, and Alex grunted in acknowledgment, eyes tracing the small yellow evidence cones that laid out the path described, until Sam cleared his throat loudly. "And, um, what's that?" He pointed to a small violet flower that lay on the ground, and Alex tipped her head curiously the sight. Sam crouched down and pulled out a phone to take a picture, his brow dark in confusion.

The sheriff, however, merely shrugged. "Don't know. All I can say is that no plant around here is blooming. Must have fallen from a pocket. We'll have our men down at the lab analyze it." He paused, and after a second, added, "It looks a bit like the flower found when Mrs. Chandler disappeared. Think there might be a connection?"

"This witness you mentioned." Alex ignored the question, curling her fists even tighter in her pockets as a gust of icy wind rushed past. "Is she still here? May we speak with her?"

"Have at it. She's not making much sense, though." The sheriff glanced back towards the school building. "She'll be in the auditorium. Name's Marie Sarife."

Marie. Alex winced at the name. Of course it was Marie. She looked up at Sam, but the Winchester showed no reaction. "Thank you," was all he said. He turned to leave, and Alex followed, eager to get out of the cold.

Dean was waiting for them just outside the auditorium. "So, I checked with the principal," he announced. "There's nothing on the surveillance tapes. What the — what did the cops think?"

"You know, the only clue they found was by the dumpster." Sam pulled out his phone to show off a picture from the parking lot. "They found the same flower near Ms. Chandler's cell phone. You recognize it?" Dean shook his head, and Sam sighed. "Yeah, me neither."

"Marie was the witness," Alex added sourly, and Dean's eyebrows lifted in surprise. She pulled open the door to the auditorium, and the Winchesters followed her inside.

The lights were up, with a small group of teenagers gathered at the edge of the stage. Alex stepped aside to let the brothers take the lead as they walked down the stairs, and Marie lifted her gaze as they approached. "Let me guess." Her voice was quiet, flat with exhaustion. "You guys came to laugh at me, too. Right?"

"Why don't you tell us what happened to your friend?" Sam suggested, and Alex shrugged off her jacket, tossing it across a folded chair as she straightened the sleeves her blue plaid shirt.

"Maggie quit the show. She was trying to get it shut down ... so we were fighting." Marie toyed with the coffee cup in her hand and shivered. "Then, she — she left, and I heard her scream. So, I r-ran outside to help, and ... and I saw a scarecrow." The teen lifted her gaze to look Sam in the eyes. "It looked just like the one from our show. But ... alive."

Marie hesitated, and Dean prompted. "Then what?"

"It ... wrapped her up in vines and took her behind the dumpster. And then, then they were both just ... gone." Marie shuddered again. "So, I called the cops, and a bunch of adults just told me I have an overactive imagination. But ... it's all real. Ghosts. Angels. Demons."

"I wanna believe," Maeve assured her friend, and Alex politely held back a roll of her eyes as her grace twisted inside her.

"You should believe." Sam's words surprised her, and even Marie looked shocked. "You both should. Cause it is all real. And so are we." Sam pointed to himself, his voice deep with sincerity. "I'm Sam Winchester. That's Dean. And that is Alex."

Silence fell. Marie and Maeve exchanged slow, wide-eyed looks. And then they laughed. Alex narrowed her eyes at the scoffing amusement, and she shot a glance up at the Winchesters. Their faces were stony, displeased at the reaction, but at least Marie seemed to have momentarily forgot about her day. "Okay," the teen finally began, gasping for breath. "Now, look. I'm willing to accept that monsters are real. But those books are work of fiction."

"And you guys are way too old to be Sam or Dean," Maeve added. "Maybe more of a Bobby-Rufus combo? Maybe."

"And Alex is an angel." Marie looked Alex up and down with a roll of her eyes. "You ... you're too old and scrawny —"

"Alright, that's it." Alex's grace snapped out, sharp as a whip, and the lights flickered above their heads; one exploded into a shower of sparks, and Marie flinched in surprise. Alex drew her grace up again, raising it to her eyes to show off their glow, but Dean was faster. "Ow!" The angel winced away as his hand came down over the top of her head, and she glowered up at the hunter. "Stop doing that," she snapped.

"Stop lighting things on fire," Dean retorted.

"Look," Sam started, hands going out to hold back his partners as he calmly addressed the teens on the stage, "We're what the book calls hunters. This, this scarecrow — the one from your musical — is it based on the one from the books?"

"No, I changed it." Marie shuddered, and Alex rolled her eyes. "I got scared of a local legend when I was a kid. There was this old, creepy scarecrow on an abandoned farm outside of town." Her voice dropped into a whisper. "Kids used to say if it caught you, it would take you away."

"Okay." Dean crossed his arm. "If this scarecrow is based on your version, then Ms. Chandler and Maggie might still be alive."

"Please." Alex rolled her eyes yet again. "Have you seen this?" She motioned vaguely to the props on the stage. "This could be anything. Tupla, ghost, pagan god — hell, this could be a demon who has good taste in the theatrical arts. He'd be doing the world a favor, if you ask me," she added under her breath.

If the brothers heard the last part, they ignored it. "Could be a tulpa," Sam slowly admitted. "Hey. Do you guys have a library here?"

"Yeah." Maeve rose to her feet, and Alex fell in step behind the Winchesters as they exited the room. The sound of sirens faded into the distance as they crossed the school to a darkly-lit library. The lights flickered on as they stepped over the threshold, and the angel blinked to let her eyes adjust to the sudden change. Sam slipped off to the left, disappearing behind a shelf of books, and Alex took a step forward, ready to follow, but the sudden pressure between her shoulder blades had her jumping in surprise.

"How'd you do it?" Maeve watched her through half-narrowed eyes, reaching up to prod at her again. "Make the lights flicker like that?"

"I'm an angel," was Alex's curt response, and she pointedly turned her back as she mentally corrected herself. Half-angel. Her shoulder muscles twitched, moving non-existent wings, and Alex shook the thought away, stretching out her grace in search of Sam. He was searching through the shelves, fingers brushing against the spines.

The sound of his breathing was drowned out by Marie's scornful laugh. "Angels have wings," she insisted.

"Yup. And humans can't see them." Alex turned her attention up onto Dean, lifting her voice to speak over any further criticism. "My bet's still on demons. Think Crowley's trying to do us a favor for once?" Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes, and Alex sighed. "Yeah, you're right. If anything, he'd probably be funding this monstrosity."

"Here." Sam returned, a book tucked under his arm. "This way." He crossed over to a table and dropped down, flipping open the book to an earmarked page. "Tulpas are monsters that are created by an intense, focused energy on an idea, or —"

"Or a story," Marie finished with a self-satisfied nod.

"Great." Maeve sank down into a seat. "How do you kill an idea?"

"Well, in Hell House, Sam and Dean burnt down the house to take out the one tulpa they hunted," Marie reminded, but she cut off when Alex snapped her fingers together.

"Right. Ghostfacers. Back — back when they were the dream team." The angel lifted her eyebrows over at Dean, trying to bring back some humor, but when no response came, she turned away. "You're right," she began, reluctantly agreeing with Marie's assessment. "When you destroy the symbol, you also kill the tulpa. So, you said this scarecrow was a part of your play? Is it a person or a prop?"

"Prop. And it's terrifying." Marie shuddered, and Alex held back an amused scoff at the reaction. "We keep it in the boiler room."

"That's, uh ... great." Sam pushed himself to his feet and patted the table. "Can you guys read up? Just, give us a second." He stepped away from the table, and Alex hurried after him. "Fine, so, this doesn't add up," he began quietly, turning his back to the teenagers as Dean stopped at his side. "Tulpas require a ton of psychic energy to juice up." When Dean nodded, Sam glanced back towards the two teenage girls. "Well, it's not like the Supernatural books are tearing up the New York Times best-seller list. And I seriously doubt this play has even sold out."

"I hope not," Alex muttered, and with a glance back at Marie, added, "Plus this scarecrow isn't even based on the books. No one even knows about it outside of the cast."

Dean nodded, and Sam reached up to scratch his head. "Well, you know what? This flower." His face darkened up as he thought, his broad shoulders hunched over. "I know I've seen it in the lore somewhere. There's gotta be a connection."

"Alright." Dean clapped his brother on the shoulder. "How about you get on that, and Alex and I will take a shot at burning man."

Alex nodded, stepping back towards the exit, but Sam's low murmur made her pause. "You sure?" Sam shot Alex a glance out of the corner of her eye, and the angel turned away, eyes tracing a stack of books as she pretended not to have heard. "I mean, with — with Alex a-and Marie." His voice dropped even further, and Alex had to strain her ears. "You know how ... touchy she can get with strangers, a-and — and with her grace back —"

"She'll be fine." Dean's voice was clipped, and Alex's eyebrows lifted to find the eldest Winchester defending her. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll keep an eye on her."

The grim line on Sam's face said it all, but he didn't argue. "Hey." Alex lifted her voice, beckoning Marie forward with a finger. "Come show us where the boiler room is, would ya?" She didn't miss the fear that flashed through Marie's eyes, and the angel's lips turned up into a smirk. "We need to see that scarecrow."

"Yeah ... sure." The dark-haired teen hesitated, but she reluctantly led the way out of the library, leaving Alex and Dean to follow. The flashing of sirens could still be seen bouncing off the white walls, and Alex started back towards them, but Marie led them in the opposite direction. The windows disappeared from the walls, leaving only doors to break up the white painted bricks, and Marie came to a stop beside a large iron door clearly marked Boiler. Here she paused, hands patting at her hips as she searched her non-existent pockets."Oops, I forgot my keys," the teen began hopefully, but Alex stepped forward and nudged her aside.

"Here. Let me." The angel let her grace slip out, just a little bit at first in an attempt at control, but it snapped through the air, breaking the interior lock with a large crack. Alex flinched at the sound, turning her head to avoid eye contact with Dean as the door limply swung open. Oops.

She stepped aside, and Dean took the lead, drawing his flashlight out of his pocket to light the dark stairs. A rumble sounded below, dark and metallic, underlying a drone that grew louder and louder with each passing step, and Alex blinked as the lights suddenly flickered on.

A sheet-covered mass stood in the corner, the flickering light of the boiler's fire dancing across the creases, and Alex could hear the fear in Marie's breath. "Gird your loins. It's horrifying."

" 'Horrifying.' " Alex scoffed as she repeated the word under her breath, and Dean stepped forward to pull off the sheet. It billowed to the ground, and Marie sucked in air at the sight of the terrifying prop. "Oooh." The angel's fingers wiggled in the air as she regarded the straw-stuffed sculpture. "Button eyes." She walked up and flicked the blue button, watching as it clacked against the red one before swinging back. "How monstrous."

"Alright." Dean picked up a piece of pipe off of the floor, turning it in his hands to test its weight before he held it out to Marie. "You wanna pinata this asshat?"

"Asshat?" Marie looked up at Dean before nodding impressively. "Nice. It's, uh, very Dean. No." She shook her head, stepping back from the prop. "It's all yours, Agent Smith."

"Smiths," Alex joked as Dean stepped up next to her. "We need to get new IDs." She looked the prop up and down, jaw clenched in effort to keep her grace under control as it reached out towards the scarecrow. She felt wood and straw and string, but there was no sign of anything malignant. She opened her mouth, ready to tell the Winchester, but one last glance at the prop had her stepping away and shutting her mouth. Monster or not, that thing deserved to burn.

"It's not a tulpa." Sam's words greeted them the moment Dean waltzed back in through the door. Alex blinked, her only show of faux-surprise as she slipped by, circling around to stand at Sam's side. "It's not a tulpa," he repeated once more when Dean paused, confusion darkening his face.

"Say it one more time, but just a bit more like Arnold, like — 'it's not a tulpa.' " Dean's voice dropped low, and Alex laughed at his impersonation.

"Dude, come on." Sam's eyes rolled into the back of his skull, and Dean's grin faded. "It's Calliope."

"The goddess of poetry?" It was Alex's turn to show genuine confusion, and she tipped her head back to look up at Sam as she racked her mind for any knowledge about the Greek muse."Are you sure?"

"She's associated with this — the borage, or starflower." Sam reached for his phone to show them the picture, but Alex already had the image of the pale flower in her head. She nodded and turned back to the table where Maeve sat, a book in front of her.

'Okay, wait." Dean spoke up, and Alex hesitated. "If this is a god thing, then what's with the scarecrow?"

"According to the lore, Calliope manifests creatures from the story she's turned into," Sam explained.

"Sort of like Gabriel — trickster edition," Alex quickly corrected. "Great. At least she should be easier to corner than that slippery son of a bitch." She crossed over to the table and pulled the book close, fingers running down the smooth page as she skimmed the paragraphs.

"So ... the scarecrow is still alive, and we burned my prop for nothing?" Marie's voice lifted in anger, and Alex shot her a look, eyebrows lifted in disbelief at her rage.

"Oh, that thing needed to burn," Dean promised darkly, and Alex loudly echoed his sentiment.

She ignored Sam's tight-lipped frown as she turned back to Maeve, motioning to the teen to get her to speak. "The only way to destroy the scarecrow is to kill Calliope," Maeve explained to Alex, and she reached over to pull the book away from the angel as she looked up at Sam for confirmation.

"Right," Sam agreed. "She uses these manifestations, like the scarecrow, to inspire the author and protect them ... until their vision has been realized. Then ... she eats the author."

Alex barely held back a laugh as Marie's face immediately went white as a sheet, and she ducked her head to keep her expression hidden. "Okay, t-that's bad!" Marie's voice shook. "Um, w-well, you get your wish. Let's cancel the show."

Sam, however, shook his head. "That's what your teacher and your classmate tried to do," he reminded. "They tried to shut you down, and the scarecrow took them. That's what it's doing. Protecting you and the show."

"Okay, so, the scarecrow is the boogeyman." Dean clapped his hands together, eyebrows knit in thought. "We got to take our shot with this, uh ..."

"Calliope."

"Calliope," Dean finished with a nod in Alex's direction. "But she won't show herself until —" He turned to look down at Marie, "— your vision has been realized."

"So ..." Marie's voice trembled. "What are you saying?"

"The show must go on." Dean clapped the teenager on the shoulder, and Alex took a seat down on the table as she looked between her four companions. To her surprise, Maeve didn't share in her friend's terror; her face was placid as she carefully watched Sam and Dean, the only outward show of trepidation buried deep in her eyes.

"Okay," Alex began, planting her hands behind her as she casually leaned back, "so how are we going to kill her? Pagan god usually means wooden stake — anything stipulations? Wood type, blood?" She looked over at Marie, who was bent over, breathe ragged as she tried to suck in air. "Is she still panicking? I thought we were past that."

"She's going to be eaten by a god," Maeve reminded, her voice flat with her typical distaste, but Alex simply shrugged it off.

"Oh please. Like we're actually going to let that happen." The angel pushed herself off of the table and crossed over to Sam and Dean. "So. When is this play supposed to premiere?"

The air pricked at her skin, sharp and heavy with nerves, and Alex did her best to brush off the feeling as she pushed her way backstage. She could feel panic, sharp as a bolt of lightning, and the angel followed the trail around to the left to the dressing rooms. "Hey!" Dean's voice was as sharp as the air, and Alex pushed her way in past the heavy black curtain. "Why don't you —"

"Why don't you guys rally Marie?" Sam said, and Alex swept her gaze across the crowded room of actors. Sam stood a head taller than all the rest, Dean at his side, and the angel paused to look between them and Marie, who was pacing back and forth in an absolute panic. "I'm gonna, uh, grab some wooden stakes in the trunk and do the blessing."

Sam placed a hand on her shoulder as he slipped past, and Alex turned her head to watch him go. "Is Marie gonna get eaten?" she heard Maeve ask Dean, and the angel snorted in amusement when she felt Marie's panic increased tenfold.

"Not gonna happen." Dean shook his head firmly, and his green eyes displayed his displeasure at the ill-judged comment. "Soon as that curtain rises, we're gonna be there to take out this Calliope. Alex." He waved her over, and the angel slipped through the throng of actors. "What have you got?"

"Doors have opened. People are trickling in." The angel rolled back her shoulders as a girl slipped past, mumbling an apology as their backs collided. "Where do you want me?"

"Backstage with me and Sam. He's out —"

"Blessing the stakes," Alex finished. "Yup, I heard. If it's all the same, I think I'll just use this." She drew her weapon from the back of her jeans, twisting it so the light glinted off the blade. Her grace melded with the metal, sending warmth through her veins, and the angel reluctantly hid it once again.

Dean gave a curt nod, and he brushed past her. "Hey!" he called to Marie, and Alex folded her arms across her chest as the teen turned to face them. "Hey. How are you doing, champ?"

"This ... this is all my fault." Marie turned to stare up at Dean, her eyes wide and voice shaking. "If I hadn't written this dumb play, none of this would've happened."

"Okay, first of all, the play is not dumb."

"I ... I thought you didn't believe in this interpretation." Marie's brow furrowed in confusion, and Alex pushed her way past Maeve to stand at Dean's side.

"Yeah, I don't. Like, like at all." Dean looked down at Alex, and when the angel nodded in full agreement, he shook his head. "But you do," he finished, his voice softening ever so slightly. "Okay? And I need you to believe in it with all you got so that we can kill Calliope, and we can save your friends. Can you do that?"

Marie sniffled, and her eyes fell closed as she steeled herself. "Yeah," she finally said. "You're right. If Sam and Dean were real, they wouldn't back down from a fight. Especially my sweet, brave, selfless Sam." Marie's voice grew soft, and she let out a longing breath. "There's nothing he can't do."

"A-Alex is brave, too," Alex put in helpfully, but her comment was ignored.

Marie sank down into a dressing chair and turned to face the brightly lit mirror. "Okay. Let's do this. I understudy Sam, so ..." She reached over and grabbed a wig off of a mannequin, and Alex cocked an eyebrow, amused, as she carefully pulled the brown wig over her already brown hair. "I used this for my one-woman Orphan Black show last year," she explained. "But it's gonna have to work for Sam." She adjusted the wig one more time before she turned her attention to the mirror. "Writer. Director. Actor. I'm gonna Barbra Streisand this bitch."

"What you gotta do is get a life," Alex muttered, and with a shake of her head, she lifted her voice. "Alright. You go out there and ... do whatever the hell it is that you guys are gonna do. We'll take care of this bitch."

Marie's voice was flat as their eyes met through the mirror. "You sound confident."

"Pagan gods are a milk run." Alex shrugged, unsure what else to say. "I've stared the devil in the eyes and walked away. You think I can't take down an overpowered child?" She let her grace boil up, and her eyes glowed blue, the light exaggerated by the dark room.

Marie let out a strangled noise and almost fell off her chair, and Alex ducked in time to miss Dean's swipe. "W-W —"

"Angel. And stop trying to hit me," she added to Dean, batting his arm away with a good-natured huff. "Point is, Calliope doesn't stand a chance against us; nothing is going to happen." She motioned to herself and Dean and turned at the sound of approaching footsteps just in time to see Sam step into view.

"No, no — you can't be an angel. A-Angels don't exist —"

"Hi, yes, yes, yet here I am. Alex, angel of the Lord. You've read about me." Alex waved her hand in a dismissive manner. "Maybe you don't remember — I didn't do much for the story after all —"

She cut off when a hand came to rest on her shoulder, warm yet firm."You could have waited to scare her until after the show," Sam reminded, and Alex barely held back a chuckle despite his displeased tone. "It's almost showtime," he announced, and he held out a wooden stake to his brother before glancing down at Alex. "You good?" Alex flashed him a thumbs up, and the Winchester's attention turned to Marie. "Everyone's out there waiting for you. Better get going." Marie hesitated, and he added, "We can talk afterwards, alright? But this show needs to go on."

Marie gave a determined nod, and Alex stepped aside as the teen rushed past, making sure to give the angel a wide berth. "Still don't like her, but I have to admit, the kid's got guts," she begrudgingly admitted. Sam lifted an eyebrow, and the angel scoffed. "What? She wrote me out of the play. Me, Sam."

She was silenced by another tight squeeze, and Alex frowned as Dean gave her a pat of condolence on his way past. Sam followed with a shrug, and the young angel swiped a hand through her hair as she trailed after him. She could hear Marie, voice full of forced confidence as she made one last pass over the line of actors. "Okay, good, good, okay," she was saying, and Alex moved to Dean's side as Marie suddenly stopped in front of the teen dressed as Dean. "Alright. Samulet?"

The girl lifted the machete amulet that hung around her neck, and Dean's head tilted in confusion. "The ... samulet?" he repeated.

"The amulet is a symbol of the Winchesters' brother love," Marie explained quickly, and Alex shrugged when Dean's questioning gaze turned down onto her.

"They look pretty good." Sam gave an appreciative nod as he tucked the stake into his jacket pocket, and Alex followed his gaze down the row of teens. "Wait a second ... where's Chuck?"

"Oh, I-I-I, I love him," Marie began, "I do! But, honestly, the whole 'author introducing himself into the narrative' thing ... it's just not my favorite. I kind of hate the meta stories."

Both Winchesters made noises of agreement, and Alex added, "Ah, so you wrote him out, too? Wow, never thought him and I would have anything in common."

Marie's face paled slightly, and Dean cleared his throat. "Alright, listen up, girls," he announced. "Now, you're all here because you love Supernatural."

"Actually, I was hoping we'd do Wicked," one of the actors put in, and Alex's lips turned up into an amused smile.

"Yeah, that'd have been easier," Dean quickly agreed. "Uh, I know I have expressed some differences of opinion regarding this particular version of Supernatural. But tonight, it's all about Marie's vision." He put a hand on Marie's shoulder, squeezing slightly in an act of comfort. "This is Marie's Supernatural. So, I want you to get out there, and I want you to stand as close as she wants you to, and I want you to put as much sub and as much text as you possibly can. There is no other road. No other way. No day but today."

Alex's eyes narrowed, intrigued by the familiar words, and behind her, she heard Maeve whisper, "Did he just quote Rent?"

"Not enough to get us in trouble," Marie whispered back.

"Now you get out there and you kick it in the ass!" Dean finished, and he stepped away as the actors circled up.

"Bring it in," Marie called, hand going out, and Alex sidestepped as the rest of the actors did the same, hands meeting in the middle of the circle. "Ghost ...." they chanted, "facers." The last word was hissed out, fading into silence, and Alex looked up in time to see the Winchesters exchanging glances.

" 'Put as much sub in that text,' huh?" she asked as the actors dispersed, sidling up to Dean. "Having a change of heart about my mate?"

Dean grunted, and for a moment, the angel was sure he wasn't going to respond. "I'm just trying to bring Calliope into the open," he finally said. "The sooner Marie's vision is recognized, the sooner we can put this production down."

"Well said." Alex withdrew her weapon from the back of her jeans. "I'll set up a perimeter. Angel blade," she explained smugly when Marie's eyes went wide, and she twisted the short sword in her hand. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"You're enjoying this way too much," Sam murmured as he passed by, and Alex snorted in amusement as the hunter walked away.

"Up yours," she called after him before she let her arms fall back to her side. "Get out there," she told Marie. "You need to introduce the show."

"I'll start on this side," Dean announced as Maeve passed by. "You two start on the other." He walked away after the stage manager, and with a shrug, Sam moved off in the other direction.

The flash of a trench coat caught her attention, and Alex spun around. "Hey!" The angel pointed towards the thin actors. "Uh, Cas — uh, Kristen, right? Fake Cas. Can I get a picture with you?" Alex dug her phone out of her pocket. "The real Cas is gonna get a kick out of this," she added. The actor didn't protest, and Alex slung an arm around her shoulder as she snapped the picture. "Great, thanks." The angel patted the fake-angel between the black-wire wings as she stepped away. "Good luck out there."

She quickly sent the photo before she shoved her phone back into her pocket as the lights dimmed and the music ceased. Marie's voice drifted through the air, shaky with nerves, and Alex continued on, grace flicking out as she searched for anything supernatural. Music picked up, met with the voice of Siobhan — Fake Dean, Alex corrected. Her phone buzzed, and the angel looked down at the screen as she wandered back towards Dean.

The text was from Castiel, and she grinned as she opened the message up. Where are you? Why is that girl dressed like me?

Working a case. And cause she's pretending to be you. I'll call ya later. A hand on her shoulder had Alex jumping in surprise. "What?"

She clamped her jaw shut as Maeve shot her a loaded glare, and Dean motioned towards the stage with his wooden stake. "Thought I told you to stick with Sam," he whispered.

Alex squinted as she peered out onto the lit stage, trying to catch sight of the Winchester on the other side. "I was talking to Cas. Real Cas. He says hi," she lied before turning to Maeve. "Hey, is there a CD of these songs? This would make good driving music."

"Hey." Dean knocked her in the shoulder with the stake as he pointed across the stage. "There."

Alex stepped forward to see what the hunter was motioning at. The tall, dark shape of Sam Winchester was obvious, and he flashed them a thumbs up when he caught their gazes. Dean shook his head, arms waving, and Alex almost slipped on the floor as she tried accelerate into a run. A figure was behind Sam, dark and vile, and the angel tore off around the back of the stage.

Dean was close behind as she slid to a stop. Her toes knocked against a wooden stake discarded on the ground, and Alex snarled out her frustration as Dean stooped to pick it up. "Dammit," she hissed, careful to keep her voice low as the lights on stage dimmed. "What's it doing? It's supposed to go after Marie, not Sam!"

"It knows we're here to kill it." Dean held out the wooden stake, but Alex refused to take it. "Keep your head up. I'll go after Sam."

"Are you sure?" Alex hesitated as the hunter pushed the sharpened branch into her hands. "I mean, you sure you trust me that much? Maybe I should find Sam." She jammed the butt of the stake back into the Winchester's chest. "I can sense him easier, after all."

"Alex. Calliope isn't going to show her face here, not you around. If she sends anything, it'll be that scarecrow, and you're the one with the mojo to stop it." Dean held out the stake, and the angel's fingers closed around the rough bark.

"Okay," she relented, unwilling to show the small spark of pride in her chest at the Winchester's faith in her. "Go find Sam."

The lights went down, and Alex lifted her grace to her eyes to see Marie hurrying off the stage. "Where are Agents Smith and Smith?" she hissed, lookin around with wide eyes. "I saw — I saw the scarecrow take Agent Smith."

"Agent Smith went after Agent Smith." Alex shoved the wooden stake into Marie's hands before the dark-haired teen could ask any more questions. "Here. This'll put Calliope down if she shows her ugly mug. Keep it on you. Jacket pocket," she added when Marie looked down at the stake in surprise.

Her phone rang, and Alex pressed it up against her ear. "Uh, hey, Cas. Not a great time."

Her chest warmed at the deep, soft rumble of the seraph's voice. "I apologize. Where are you?"

"Michigan. Hunting down Calliope at this crazy play." Alex cast a look at the stage with a grin. "You're never gonna believe this. I'll call you later and tell you all about it once we kill the bitch. Alright?" The lights flickered on and then off again, and Alex lowered her voice. "Gotta go, love you, bye."

"Second act is starting," Marie announced, her voice tight to keep it from clenching, and Alex frowned as she looked down at her phone.

"Second act?" she repeated. "Already? How many acts are in this thing?"

"Five." Marie hurried back on stage, and Alex winced at the news.

She tucked her phone back into her pocket and pulled free her blade as she positioned herself besides the curtain to watch the play. "Five," she muttered under her breath. "Wonderful."

To Marie's credit, the play was well-written. That thought hung in the back of Alex's mind as she watched fake Castiel begin her solo, her dark-wire wings catching in the spotlight, and the angel tipped her head as she watched; inaccurate, but well-written. She sidestepped to let fake Dean come offstage, head tipped as she listened. She knew the night in question well: Sam, gone; Dean, in 2014; her, with Castiel in a small diner on the side of a dusty road. They had talked — and she had spoken to Jimmy Novak.

A huff of air left her breath as if she had been punched, and Alex's spine stiffened. It had been a long time since she had thought of Castiel's vessel; with Jimmy's soul vacated, she had no reason to.

"You okay?" Marie stopped at her side, and Alex jerked away in surprise.

"Of course," she promised hastily. "I was just thinking about ... something. No sign of the scarecrow," she was quick to add. "Keep your eyes peeled, though."

"Oh trust me, I will." The teen straightened her jacket, trying to smooth down the crease where the wooden stake lay as the music ended. "That's my cue. Wish me luck."

"Luck." Alex stepped aside to let Marie through, and her eyes narrowed as she watched Kristen disappear off the other side of the stage. There was no sign of the scarecrow, but with the stage lights up, it was difficult to see into the dark corners. The angel huffed in anger and slipped off around the curtains to circle around to the other side. She could hear Marie singing, low and quiet at first but gaining strength. A gasp from the audience had her pausing, grace flicking outwards in search of the source of surprise.

Something stood on the stage, cold and inhuman, and Alex pushed her way around the thick black curtain. The lights immediately blinded her, and the angel screwed her eyes up against the brightness as her grace rose to immediately adjust her vision. The first thing she saw was Marie, standing at the edge of the stage; the second thing she saw a scarecrow. It was staggering towards the teen, uninterested in Alex's sudden appearance.

Her angel blade flashed through the air as the angel sprung forward, positioning herself between the monster and the girl before she lunged again. An arm came out, and she ducked and twisted, driving her weapon into the scarecrow's stomach and up beneath the ribs.

The monster snarled, and Alex's eyes went wide as a forearm caught her in the side of the head. The impact sent her flying backwards, and the angel crashed head first into a crudely-constructed wooden fence. It splintered beneath the impact, and the jagged edge of a fence post slammed into her back, ripping through her shirt, and Alex cried out in pain and alarm as the large splinters caught in her flesh. She rolled onto her stomach as her grace protested angrily, exploding outwards, and the angel flinched away as a large spotlight overhead sparked and died.

The scarecrow had turned back to Marie, Alex forgotten, and the angel grit her teeth as her fingers closed around the ragged prop. It came free with a tearing sound, leaving shards of wood behind, and the angel's fingers scrabbled against the smooth stage floor in momentary anguish as her grace closed the wound around the intrusions. Her angel blade lay on the floor, discarded by the unaffected monster, and Alex heaved herself to her feet with as much speed as she could muster, fighting back the shock to find that the scarecrow lived on. Why hadn't it died?

Marie had turned, eyes wide at the sight of the lumbering creature, and Alex staggered forward, teeth grit in determination. If she couldn't kill the scarecrow, she would just have to stall him.

"No chick flick moments!" Marie's sudden yell had the angel freezing in place. The teen had drawn the wooden sake out from her jacket, and as Alex watched, she plunged it deep into the scarecrow's chest.

The beast hesitated, surprised, and Alex hit the stage as the air trembled, rippling like water moments before the creature exploded into purple pus. The shattered wreckage of the set protected her from the splatter, but the angel still gagged at the stench, sickly sweet and overwhelming.

There was applause, almost drowned out by the ringing in her ears, and Alex pushed herself to her feet as the lights went down and the curtains fell. "Is — is it over?" she managed to wheeze out before her grace swept through her, giving strength to her limbs.

"Yeah, I-I think so." Marie was at her side, almost unrecognizable beneath the layer of purple grime, and Alex sidestepped when the teen tried to reach out and touch her. "I killed it —"

"What? No, no, the — the play." Alex nodded towards the fallen curtains. "Is it over?"

The girl's face twisted in confusion. "No, we're not even at the intermission. I should ... I should go get changed," she added, looking down at her soiled costume. "I don't know what this is —"

"Probably nothing good." Alex clapped her on the shoulder before pulling away in disgust. "Good plan. I need to go find my friends. I'm fine, by the way," she promised before she hurried away, leaving Marie to explain their circumstances to the rest of the crew.

The hallways were empty, and the angel stretched her grace out, cautious at first, as she searched for any sign of the Winchester. "Dean?" she hissed as she turned the corner. "Sam?"

"Alex?" Distant footsteps broke into a run, and Alex turned around to watch the brothers appear from down the hallway. Two women were behind them, moving equally as fast, and Alex narrowed her eyes as she placed their faces: Mrs. Chandler and Maggie, the two missing victims.

"You found them." The angel's legs quivered, and she placed a hand on the wall to steady herself as nonchalantly as she could.

"And you're hurt." Sam exchanged a worried look with his brother as he came to stop in front of her. "What happened? Where's Marie?"

"She's backstage with the rest of her actors." Alex knocked away Sam's hand when it tried to reach towards her blood-stained t-shirt. "Stop. It's nothing, okay? The scarecrow went after Marie, I stabbed it — which did absolutely nothing, by the way — and it threw me back into the sets. I took a fence to the kidney." She lifted up the hem of her shirt to glance down at the half-healed skin, still red and raw. "I, uh ... I might need you to pull some splinters out later."

"Yeah, of course." The Winchester's voice was rushed with concern, and Alex let her shirt fall back over the wound. "Calliope's dead —"

"Yeah, I know." Alex cut him off with a wave of her hand. "The scarecrow exploded in purple ooze.You'll probably hear Marie saying she killed it, since she happened to be stabbing it when the damn thing imploded, but ..." The angel shook her head. "I don't know what that thing was made of, but it was damn near indestructible. My angel blade didn't even show it down."

"Well, important thing is it's dead now." Dean interrupted her before the angel could continue. "I say we go make sure she's okay and then hit the road."

"Sounds good." Alex fell in line at Sam's side as they made their way back towards the auditorium. "So where'd the scarecrow take you?" she asked. "All I saw was that he grabbed you, but by the time I got over there you were gone."

"We were down in the boiler room. Calliope was keeping us there until the play was over." The hunter shrugged, unsure of what else to say. "She's dead, and that's all that matters now. How's the — how's the play?"

"All things considered, pretty well. I think Marie's done a pretty good job of summarizing the books — me excluded." The angel waved off the thought with a dismissive flick of her hand. "I mean, we haven't gotten to any of the — the aliens, o-or robots yet, but so far it's good. If we want to keep any good memories of the play, we should probably leave before they show," she was quick to add.

"One step ahead of you." Dean turned the corner and pulled open the door that lead to the back of the auditorium. "I need a drink. Marie!" The Winchester lifted his voice to catch the teen's attention. "Over here."

"You're okay!" Marie's eyes stretched wide at the sight of them. "You — you disappeared after the scarecrow," she added to Alex. "I wasn't sure where you'd gone."

"Just off to find them." Alex jerked a thumb back towards Sam with a shrug. "You two say your goodbyes," she added back to the brothers. "Then we should probably hit the road."

Marie's face fell at the angel's words. "You're not staying for the finale?"

"Come on." Dean put a hand on the teen's shoulder, and Alex let the two of them walk away; the hunter could console her on his own.

"You know." Maeve's voice came from behind them, and Alex and Sam turned around. "Usually, this is when Sam and Dean take off. Before anyone asks any questions."

A small smile grew across the Winchester's face. "That's probably a good idea," he agreed with a chuckle.

Maeve echoed him, laughing at her own joke before her face grew serious. "Thanks for saving my friends." A beat passed, and her brown eyes sparkled once again. "You know? If you'd cut your hair a little, you'd make a pretty good Dean."

Sam laughed, head tipping back as he did so. "Thanks."

"Of course." Maeve's gaze turned onto Alex, whose eyes were narrowed, unsure if the teen was serious, or if it was just a deadpanned joke. "Good luck getting your wings back."

"Thank you." Alex ducked her head to hide her blush at the surprisingly warm compliment, and she cast a quick glance up at Sam. "We, uh, we should go find Dean. You guys should probably get the show back on the road," she added with a smile.

Maeve nodded, and she flipped down the microphone on her headset so she could speak into it. "One minute, folks," she announced. "One minute." She hurried away, and Alex's grace stretched out as she tried to locate Dean. The stage was bustling as actors tried to find last minute props, and the angel lost sight of Sam as she wove her way through the crowd.

She found him standing beside the curtains, looking out onto the stage as the house lights dimmed and the stage lights rose. Marie was out there, standing beside fake Dean, and the Winchester tore his gaze from them as Sam stopped at his side. "Well, I guess we can go back to staring at motel room walls," he said quietly, careful not to drown out the actors on stage.

"You know what, Dean?" Sam's hesitation had his brother's eyebrows lifting. "You were right. Staying cooped up isn't helping us. We need —"

"We need to get back on the road, Dean." Marie spoke at the same time, and Sam cut off in surprise. "Doing what we do best."

"W-What is that?" Sam's brow furrowed, confused by the scene that stood before him.

Dean shrugged, his gaze turning back out onto the stage. "It's the uh ... the B.M. Scene."

"The ... bowel movement stage?"

"No!" Dean hissed out the word when Sam spoke too loud, and the hunter fell quiet at his brother's reprimand. "Just ... shh." He folded his arms across the chest, and Alex chanced a look up into Sam's face as the Winchester gave a small shrug.

"You're right, Sammy." Fake Dean looked out over the crowd as she spoke. "Out on the road. Just the two of us."

"The two of us against the world."

Sam chuckled at Marie's words, and his hazel eyes flickered over to Dean. "What she said." The lights changed, and the beginning chords of a song started up over the sound system.

Alex's head tipped as she recognized it, a rendition of Kansas that was soft and slow, and out of the corner of her eye she saw the cardboard replica of Dean's old amulet, gripped tight in the Winchester's callous hands. "We should get going," she murmured, turning to go, but a gentle hand on her shoulder had the angel pausing.

"In a minute." Dean's gaze was still focused on the stage. "I want to see this first."

The two teens had started singing, and Alex slowly turned back, unsure how to describe the sound; somehow sad, somehow hopeful, and yet somehow still neither of those two. It was mesmerizing as the voices joined together, twisting and dipping through the melody. More rose to join them as other actors filed out onto the stage, and Alex stepped aside to let a thin girl slip past. "Who's that?" Sam whispered, pointing to the short-haired teen, and Alex gave an exaggerated shrug.

"Oh, that's Adam." Maeve spoke up from behind them, and the angel looked back in surprise. "John Winchester's other kid. He's still trapped in the cage. In Hell. With Lucifer."

Alex felt Sam and Dean exchange guilty looks over her head, and she unfolded her hands to shove them into her pockets. "Yeah," she agreed. "We know where he is. Thanks."

She knew her reassurance fell on deaf ears, and she turned back to face the stage as Maeve walked away. Her heart swelled alongside the music, and the angel leaned her head against Sam's shoulder as the voices rose one last time.

Carry on my wayward son.
There'll be peace when you are done.
Lay your weary head to rest.
Don't you cry no more.

Carry on.