January 15th, 2015
Lebanon, Kansas

Metallica thrummed through Alex's earbuds, pulsing against her grace. Her wings lay sprawled out across the bed, dragging against the soft comforter as she tapped her fingers in time with the beat. She could feel Sam and Dean, resting quietly in the library far away from her room, and she rolled over onto her stomach with a frustrated huff. She had returned to Kansas sometime last night — all of Jody's homemade ribs were gone, no surprise there — to find Sam asleep in his bedroom and Dean and the Impala gone; but now Sam was up, and Dean was back, apparently.

With a sigh, Alex pushed herself up so her back was resting up against the headboard as she pulled her laptop into her lap. Maybe she should get up and go find the brothers; she had been cooped up in her room long enough.

Lucifer's grace stirred within her, and Alex's eyes snapped upwards in time to see the archangel land in the corner, his crimson wings pulling in tight. "Fuck, Luce —" She dropped her voice into a whisper as she yanked her earbuds out from her ears. "You can't — you can't just show up when Sam and Dean are around"

"Don't worry." Lucifer closed the bedroom door, and Alex shut her laptop with a frown as she watched the archangel toss his trench coat over the back of a chair. "If they ask, just say I slipped in the back." The bed dipped as he sat down upon it, and Alex drew her knees up to her chest, wings folding in to make room for him.

"What are you doing? Here," she rushed to add when Lucifer grinned. "What are you doing here?"

"Hell's boring." Crimson wings pushed Lucifer towards her, and Alex's skull collided with the headboard as he slotted himself between her folded legs, his hands planted on either side of her hips. One hand shot out, slipping between her head and wall to sooth the bump, and Alex swallowed back a scowl. "But you ... you're far more interesting."

"Damn straight I am." Alex pulled the archangel closer, fingers digging into the collar of his shirt as she pressed her lips up against his. Lucifer hummed, and his wings folded forward as her hands moved upwards, dancing across his skin. She recognized every dip, every muscle, every curve of his lips, but it was cold. It was so cold, and it exuded confidence with every pulse. It was Castiel, but at the same time, it was everything Cas wasn't.

The door swung open, and Alex's head recoiled at the sound; had it not been for Lucifer's hand, it would have crashed back into the headboard again. "Oh, God." Sam's strangled surprise came from the doorway, the sight of him blocked by Lucifer's chest. "Sorry, I, uh —"

Alex shoved at Lucifer's shoulders, but the archangel moved back at his own, slow pace. "Hello, Sam," he greeted, his voice dropping low, and Alex slipped off of the bed with a scowl in his direction.

"I, uh, hey," came the stuttered response. "I — I didn't know that you were here. S-Sorry." He cleared his throat to regain his composure, and hazel eyes slid past the archangel in search of Alex. "I just — I think we found a case if you're interested, but ..."

"Yeah, I'm interested." Alex yanked her earbuds out of her phone's aux jack, hastily tossing them onto the nightstand. "Can you give us a minute? I'll meet you in the library."

"Sounds good." Sam fumbled for the doorknob, his lips pursed tightly as he glanced between the two of them. "Just, uh ... lock the door next time, okay?"

The door closed, and Alex spun around to face Lucifer, scowling at the amusement that had appeared on his face. "Yeah, Cas," she hissed. "Lock the door next time! What the hell was that?"

"What do you mean?" Lucifer's face lost all expression, his voice rumbling in his chest, but the facade disappeared almost immediately. "Oh, come on. Think of it this way." He circled around her, his fingers dancing playfully across her shoulder, and Alex shrugged them off with a huff. "We need to keep up pretenses, and what better way to do it than —"

He cut off with a grunt when Alex threw her elbow back into his stomach, and the world spun as he twisted her. Her back collided with the closed door, pinned there by Lucifer's body, and Alex turned her head to avoid his gaze. "Don't hit me," he warned, and he stepped away with a shake of his wings.

Alex smoothed down her shirt with a tight-lipped frown. "You let me punch you before," she muttered. "Once."

"Once," Lucifer agreed. He reached out, tugging her closer and spinning her around so her back was pressed flat against his chest. His grace rose up against hers, feeling along her neck, and Alex pushed it away before it could reach her bond. "It's funny, isn't it?" His grace persisted, and Alex hissed as her grace rose up to glow against her skin. "How we need something so ... human ... to procreate."

"Yeah, well, blame your brothers for that one," Alex muttered. "They're the ones who made me this way." She slipped out of Lucifer's hold, her fingers lingering on his wrist for a moment longer. "Come on," she begrudgingly decided. "I'm sure Dean's gonna want to see you — Cas," she quickly corrected. "Just keep it together, okay?"

Her request was met with a grin, and she shrugged on a sweatshirt as she stepped out into the hall. Lucifer followed a second later, his trench coat already pulled on over his suit, and crimson wings brushed against her feathers, broken and small.

Dean was bent over the library table, his back to them as he paged through a book, and Alex announced her presence by clearing her throat. "Hey," she greeted, her nose wrinkling as she jumped up the library stairs.

"Hey, love birds," Dean teased, and Alex frowned at how his green eyes lit up at the sight of them.

She could feel Lucifer's amusement through his grace, and she defensively shoved her hands into the pocket of her jeans. "Speaking of," she retorted, nostrils flaring as she scented the air, "you smell like sex. Where the hell were you last night?"

Dean's humor faded, and he tugged on the hem of his shirt to take a sniff. "I just showered," he defended with a glance over at his brother. The look necessitated him turning his head, revealing a dark hickey on the side of his neck.

"Yeah, well you should to it again." Alex's turned her eyes onto Sam in time to see him shrug, and the younger Winchester held her gaze as he tapped on his own neck, a silent signal in case the angel hadn't seen the bruise herself. "The hell did you sleep with, man? A werewolf? Look at the size of that thing."

"I can't help it that I'm a helpless romantic." Dean tugged the collar of his shirt upwards and dropped down into chair next to his brother. "And this isn't about me," he added, pointing his finger in Alex's direction. "At least I had the decency to keep it behind closed doors."

Alex jerked her thumb over her shoulder towards Lucifer, passing on the blame, and the archangel blinked. "Sorry," he apologized, his voice a low rumble, and Alex held back a scowl; it was painfully obvious that he was not, in fact, sorry at all.

The lie did not go unnoticed by the brothers. "Oh well, at least you're not fighting anymore." Dean gestured towards Sam, passing on the conversation, and Sam rolled his eyes. Chair legs scraped as Lucifer sat down, and he motioned for Alex to do the same.

Alex did so, diverting her eyes onto Sam to avoid the confused look Dean sent her way. "You said you found a case," she started, and she reluctantly let her gaze flick back onto Dean. "What happened? Is it something to do with Amara?"

"I wish," Dean muttered, and Sam shook his head. "Stacy Altman, a nineteen year old baby-sitter in Ohio was murdered last night," he explained, turning his computer so Alex could see an article entitled Teenage Girl Dies of a 'Broken Heart.' "Her heart was ripped out from her chest."

"Kinda sounds like our kind of thing," Alex begrudgingly agreed. "Alright, I'll come along. When are we leaving?" She glanced over at Lucifer as she spoke, a question in her eyes, and the archangel faintly nodded.

"As soon as we can." Sam closed his laptop and rose to his feet, his chair scraping against the library floor. "Uh, how does ten minutes sound?"

"Make it twenty." Alex pointed a finger towards Dean. "Shower again for me, okay? I don't want to spend the whole car ride smelling you." Dean lifted an arm to sniff at his armpit with a low grumble, and Alex jumped up, all but pulling Lucifer up with her. "Come on, I'm sure you've got places to be. I'll walk you to your car."

Lucifer followed her out of the library, silent until they started up the stairs. "My car?" he finally said. "You know, I gotta say that I'm flattered how you lie to them for me."

"Yup." Alex led the way towards the garage. "What were you expecting me to do? You'd got my mate hostage or something," she muttered.

Lucifer laughed, amused by her excuse. "Castiel is safe for as long as I'm in here," he promised, and his grace snapped out to close the door behind him. "And you know what? I'm hurt you would even suggest that. Castiel consented to this —" he motioned down to the vessel he wore, "— and that took a lot of trust in me, you know? You could at least do the same."

"You want to talk about trust?" Despite herself, Alex couldn't keep the anger in her voice. "I think I'm the one person on this planet who trusts you the most."

"I know." Lucifer pulled her close, and his wings curled tightly around her. "That's what makes you my favorite."

His cold breath chilled her lips, and Alex accepted a quick kiss before she pulled away. "It makes me insane." Her grace snaked out, feeling for the Winchesters, and she leaned back in for one more kiss before she flicked her wings. "Alright, you better get out of here. Love y —" The instinctual dismissal came out before she could catch herself, and Alex dug her teeth into her lips as Lucifer grinned. "I — that's what — Cas — for fuck's sake. Just get out of here, Lucifer."

Hudson, Ohio

Alex followed Sam and Dean out of the Impala, pausing on the cold driveway to adjust the black tie that hung around her neck as she looked around. "Stop that," Sam chastised, catching her by the arm, and Alex rolled back her shoulders as the Winchester grabbed her tie, tightening and straightening it until the knot rested just below the collar of her shirt. "And stop squirming," he added. "You're the one who insisted on wearing a tie."

"Because I didn't have a clean shirt to wear otherwise," Alex retorted, and she knocked Sam's hand away. "I look fine. No one's going to pay any attention to how straight my tie is once they see this." She tapped her blind eye, and she slipped away from Sam before he could grab her again. A white forensics van sat in the driveway of the suburban home before them, and Alex watched two men carry out a plastic-wrapped, blood stained carpet from the front door. "Who are these people again?"

"Dan and Melissa Harper." Dean answered for his brother. "Come on, let's see if we can get in before they take everything away." He dug around in his pocket for his identification as he led the way up to the house, and Alex fumbled for her own, checking to make sure that it was the one she wanted before following.

"Hey," she heard Dean greet, and she turned her attention to the cop that stood guard at the door. "Agents Weller and Betts, and Special Agent Kenning. We're hear about Stacy Altman's murder." He held up his badge, and Alex did the same, her chin lifted in face of how the young cop's gaze lingered on her eye. As the silence lengthened, Dean cleared his throat. "Do you mind?"

The cop blinked, snapped out of his thoughts by Dean's sharp tone, and he let them through with a muttered apology. Alex swept by him, her wings flicking to hide her embarrassment. Sam's fingers brushed across her shoulder, a quick gesturing in passing as he moved to walk beside his brother.

Alex let her grace flick out, feeling around the home. Not including them, there were five human souls — six, Alex corrected after a moment. Two of them were distressed. "Straight ahead," she murmured, nodding down the hall. "I think that's them."

Two people sat in the living room; at their arrival, one jumped up, his eyes wide; the woman rose more slowly, her face tight with worry until Dean showed his badge. "Dan and Melissa Harper?" he guessed, and when the two nodded, he tucked ID into his pocket. "We're with the FBI. We just want to ask you a few questions."

Dan shifted nervously, his dark eyes flickering across the three of them, but Melissa only nodded again. "We've already talked to the police," she told them. "What else do you need?"

"It's a separate investigation," Alex explained, and two set of eyes turned onto her. "Which means we just have to go over the facts one more time." She stepped aside as Dan moved past her, her wings rising in confusion, but the man simply stopped in the doorway, leaning his shoulder up against the wall as he sighed.

"It's like we told the cops," he began, his eyes turned towards where the hazmat team was working in the back room. "Stacy came over around six o'clock. We went to dinner, and by the time we got home ..."

"We found Stacy in the living room, in a pool of blood," Melissa finished, cutting into her husband's explanation, and she settled back down into her chair. "Tegan in was in her crib, hysterical. It was awful."

Her voice cracked, tinged with fear and despair, but Alex's eyes didn't leave Dan, her grace prickling at the sorrow that seemed to ooze from his very soul. "Can you think of any reason someone would want to hurt Stacy?" she heard Dean ask, and her head tilted as Dan flinched; was it at Dean's question, or at the bloodstained pillows that were being carried past?

"No," Melissa answered, and Alex finally turned her attention back onto her. "Stacy was super sweet and popular and pretty and ... "

She trailed off, her hands falling into her lap, and Dan turned back to face Sam and Dean. "Anyone who met her fell in love with her," he finished.

Silence followed his words, and Alex couldn't help but hum curiously at his words. "Maybe it was a crime of passion," Dean suggested after a second. "Stacy have any crazy ex-boyfriends?"

Melissa's face darkened in thought, and her fingers toyed with the kleenex in her hands. "Not that I know of," she finally admitted, and she turned her eyes up onto her husband. "Honey?"

Dan's head recoiled, surprised to find the question turned onto him. "Why would I have any idea?" he snapped, and Alex exchanged a quick look with Sam at the sharpness in his voice.

"Was anything stolen?" she quickly asked, and Dan's lips pursed as he turned to look at her. "Any chance that maybe this was just a robbery that went wrong?" She let her good eye move across the room, taking in the neatly arranged shelves, but everything looked neat and orderly.

"I don't think so." Melissa confirmed her suspicions. "I mean, nothing was missing — except for the nanny cam," she added after a moment, glancing back over her shoulder, and Alex followed her gaze past Dan, who had turned back to watch the men work in the living room.

They had started taking apart the bloodstained couch; Alex momentarily let her attention waver onto them, and the next thing she knew, Sam was clearing his throat. "Thanks for your time. Give us a call if something comes up." Sam led the way out of the room, his shoulder brushing against Alex to signal that she should follow, and the young angel trailed after him, shaking out her wings as she followed him out of the house. "Is it just me," he began once he stepped onto the lawn, "or is that gut acting a bit hinky?"

"There was definitely something going on," Alex agreed, and she glanced back at Dean for confirmation. "I mean, the wife was sad, but he ... he was grieving. And way too quick to answer sometimes," she added.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "It's probably best that we split up. Dean, you can drop us off at the morgue and hit Dan at the office."

"Sure. Maybe he'll be a little more open without his wifey around." Dean dug the Impala's keys out of his pocket. "Alright, point me to where I'm going." He climbed into the front seat, and, with one last glance back towards the house, Alex slid into the back.

The county morgue was located in the middle of town, tucked behind the white stone hospital. Alex followed Sam in through the front door, glancing over her shoulder to watch the Impala speed off down the road. "I thought Dean was still all gung-ho about finding Amara," she started as they stepped into the heated atrium. "Why was he so intent on working this case?"

"Because Amara's in the wind, and we have absolutely nothing that can even slow her down." Sam held open the door for her, and he followed her into the waiting room. "And Amara or not, this is a genuine case. Hello," he added, lifting his voice as he addressed the woman at the desk in front of them. "My name is Agent Betts, this is Agent Kenning. We have an appointment with Dr. Carew about the Altman murder investigation."

"Is that them?" A woman stuck her head out the door, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Sam and Alex. "Agents. Thanks for coming in. This one ... it's nothing quite like I've ever seen before."

She waved them after her as she started down the hall, and Sam and Alex exchanged a look before they followed. "Well, that's why we're here," Sam promised. "We talked with the Harpers, but they don't know who could have done this."

"We're hoping that the body might shed some clues onto the killer," Alex added, lengthening her stride to walk at Sam's side. "Have your prelims found anything?"

"Not yet, but ..." Dr. Carew led the way into the morgue, motioning towards a sheet-covered body that lay on the center table. "Based on the autopsy, the vic was conscious when her heart was ripped out. Wouldn't want a front row seat to that show." She pulled back the sheet to reveal Stacy Altman's body, and Alex moved away from Sam to circle around the table.

"Can I ...?" She pointed towards the box of gloves that sat on the tray next to her, and when Dr. Carew nodded, Alex pulled two free and slipped them on over her hands. "Any idea what could have done this?" She probed at the corpse's chest where a large hole stretched out towards the back; if she peered through, she could see straight through to the other side.

"Well, I'd typically assume animal attack," the medical examiner began, and Alex cocked her head.

Her eyes met Sam's, and the Winchester frowned. "In the house?" he asked.

"Exactly." The woman sighed, shaking her head in defeat. "Plus, no claw marks. I'll be honest with you, agents. Been doing this for some twenty odd years, and I'm stumped."

Alex felt along the edge of the hole, frowning at how small it was — even as slender as her arm was, she would have difficulty fitting it through without brushing up against the sides. "Can I?" she heard Sam ask, and she looked up to watch the hunter take a picture of the wound. "Thanks."

"Thank you," Alex repeated, pulling off her latex gloves and tossing them towards the trash. "Here." She dug one of her business cards out of her pocket and handed it to the medical examiner. "If anything comes up — if you find anything weird at all — give us a call."

She followed Sam out of the room, shaking out her wings as they stepped into the hall. "Well?" Sam muttered the question as they passed the reception desk. "Does that seem like a werewolf to you?"

"Well, the heart was definitely gone." Alex stepped out of the building, suppressing a shiver at the winter's cold. "But werewolves typically kill their vics before they go for the heart, and they're usually pretty damn messy about it. This ... this was too clean." She curled her wings tightly around her, but, seeing how Sam shivered, stretched one out to rest against his shoulder.

"Yeah," Sam reluctantly agreed. "It does seem a bit out of character. But ... have you ever seen anything like that before?"

"Once." The word died in Alex's throat, and she stifled a shiver — this one not from the cold. "Okay, I ... at the Elysian Fields Motel, when ... when Lucifer killed Baldur. It looks just like that." She glanced up at Sam out of the corner of her eye, tugging nervously on Lucifer's grace as she stopped herself from insisting that obviously Lucifer wasn't to blame.

She felt Sam's surprise. "So you think it was another angel?"

"No, I don't. It just reminded me of that. Like someone just stuck their arm through her." Alex shoved her hands deep inside her pockets as she looked up and down the street. "So what's the plan, Sam? It's too cold to wait around for Dean to come pick us up."

"The motel's not too far from here." Sam started across the street, and Alex hurried after him, wings raised to shield them from the biting wind as best as her broken vanes could. "You know, earlier ... that's the first time I've seen Cas since Hell. He's looking good."

Alex felt her face turn red, and she turned her eyes down the street away from Sam. "He's doing great," she lied, lifting her voice above the wind. "I think he's starting to finally get back to his old self. His old old self," she corrected. "Before the fall."

She jumped up onto the sidewalk, shaking out her wings as she looked around, unsure which way to go. Sam turned left, and Alex followed. "Hey, did you end up finding Crowley?" he asked after a moment. "He hasn't been returning our calls."

"C-Crowley?" The name caught in her throat, and Alex disguised it with a cough. "Crowley?" she repeated. "No, I couldn't get a hold of him. He hasn't contacted me about anything, but then again, I'm not exactly kept up-to-date on his whereabouts." She kicked at a discarded plastic cup, and it skittered off towards a green trash can. "I can check up on him after we finish this case," she suggested. "Maybe he's just too preoccupied with Rowena to call back."

"Might be a good idea," Sam reluctantly admitted, and after a moment of silence, he heaved a sigh. "Look, I'm sorry that I dragged you to hell with Lucifer. I know ... I know that wasn't easy for you, seeing him again and all."

"It wasn't something I ever thought I'd do again," Alex agreed. "But, I don't know ..." She pulled on Lucifer's grace, seeking its comfort as she searched for words that weren't necessarily a lie. "I'm just glad with how it all worked out. And I'm glad that you're okay." The motel appeared as they rounded the corner, its neon sign glowing in the darkening sky, and Alex quickened her step to reach their room. "If Lucifer did get out," she hesitantly added, "do you really think he could have stopped the Darkness?"

"I don't know." Sam dug around in his pocket for the keys, but Alex's grace snuck out to unlock the motel door before they reached it. It swung open, and Alex hurried through, shaking out her wings as she stepped into the warm room. "He could have done it," he admitted, tossing his keys onto the table, "but Dean's right. Having him and Amara out at the same time ... that's more than we can cope with."

Alex's eyes turned across the room, and she let humor warm her voice, thankful for the opportunity to change the subject. "Do you think we could have gotten a less ugly room?" she asked, taking a moment to let her attention rest on the interstate-themed wallpaper. "I feel like I'm stepping back into the fifties."

Sam huffed in amusement. "Hey, the fifties was a good decade," he defended, and he tossed his suit coat and tie onto the nearest bed. "Poodle skirts, Leave it to Beaver..."

"Our table is diner themed." Alex leaned up against the metal table with a roll of her eyes, ripping open her bag to grab her laptop. "Our bedsheets are red, and I haven't seen a couch that ugly in I don't know how long." The red leather couch squeaked as Sam dropped down onto it, and his undid the top button of his shirt as he pulled his laptop onto his lap.

"At least it's clean." Sam patted the couch next to him, and Alex dropped down at his side, bringing her feet up so she could rest her back against Sam's shoulder. She propped her computer up on her knees as she opened up youtube, and she felt Sam turn his head, his hair brushing against hers.

"We should be working," he warned as Alex scrolled through her feed. "Someone is dead."

"And nothing's going to change that." Alex stifled a sigh as she continued onto the next page, her eyes flickering across the titles. "Besides, what do you want me to do? We're about as far from a full moon as we could possibly be, and we have no other leads."

Sam moved, bringing his arm up to rest on the back of the couch, and Alex shifted backwards to lean up against him again. "Go back to that one," he said after a moment, and Alex reluctantly scrolled back up to a video entitled Who's to Blame for the Cold War?

"Ew no. That's boring." Alex snapped her laptop shut, and she stretched one leg out with a yawn, her head falling back against Sam's chest. "Hey, have you ever heard of a nesnas?"

The door swung open before Sam could answer, and Dean barreled through, slamming the door shut behind him. "Fucking winter," Alex heard him mutter, and she reached out with her grace to lock the door behind him. "Hey. Find anything?"

His eyes lingered on where Alex was tucked into his brother's side, and the angel reluctantly pulled away when Sam lowered his arm. "Yeah, jack." Sam looked down at his laptop with a shake of his head. "Absolutely nothing points to a werewolf."

"Well, step aside, Urkel." From his pocket, Dean produced an SD card, and Sam tilted his laptop upwards so Dean could insert it into the side. "It was Dan that stole the nanny cam."

"Why?" Alex threw her legs over the front of the couch so she could sit up straight, watching as Dean walked away towards the old-style white fridge. Dean glanced over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised, and she looked over at Sam with a frown. "Oh. He was fucking the babysitter. Great." She looked down at the screen as a clip started to play, and her frown deepened.

She recognized the Harper's living room, and she recognized the girl sitting on the couch as Stacy Altman. A dark shadow moved in the background, beyond the white patio doors, and Alex leaned closer to Sam to watch as the doors swung open. A man stepped through, dressed in a suit and tie, and the video zoomed in as Sam clicked at the trackpad. "Wait." He paused the video and looked up at Dean. "I thought Dan was at dinner with Melissa."

Dean grinned as he pulled the cap off of his beer. "That's not Dan," he promised, and his eyes flickered back down towards the laptop as he took a sip.

Alex returned her eyes to the screen as Sam fast forwarded through the video. Stacy turned to face the stranger, the stranger thrust his hand through her chest. Blood. Alex narrowed her eyes as she watched the stranger turn away, and a flash of light caught her eyes. "There." She jammed a finger into the screen; Sam knocked it away a second later.

"Shifter." He paused the clip and went backwards frame-by-frame until the white glint in the stranger's eyes was visible.

"Yahtzee." Dean set his beer down on the table and, now that the video was done, Alex pulled away from Sam, crossing over to the fridge to grab herself a drink. "Now we just need to figure out what it wants."

"And why would it take her heart?" Alex added, her grace flicking the bottle cap off of her beer. "It's not like they eat them or anything. It's a shifter — they're basically human."

"Exactly." Dean scowled as he shrugged off his suit coat. "Who knows why they do anything. It could be love, or maybe Stacy was involved in some shady shit." He slammed down another few gulps of his drink before he shook his head. "Looks like we're calling it a night for now. I saw a bar down the street."

He looked up expectantly, awaiting their decision, and Alex shrugged. "I'll come with," she decided. "It's been a long time since I've been out to drink."

"I think I'm good," Sam decided, opening his laptop with an amused shake of his head. "You guys have fun."

Dean grinned, and Alex shrugged as she retreated to the back of the room, snagging her duffle bag on the way past. "Sounds good to me. Give me a minute to change, and I'll be ready." Her grace locked the bathroom door behind her, and Alex had just started undoing the buttons on her shirt when feathers brushed across her skin. "Fuck!" The strangled cry was muffled by Lucifer's hand, and Alex's grey eye stretched wide as she stared up at the archangel. "Dude! You can't be here!" She yanked his hand away, hissing out the words with a glance back towards the room where the Winchesters lay.

"They won't hear me." Lucifer leaned close to whisper the words in her ear, and Alex's fingers scrabbled to slide the buttons back into place. Her knuckles brushed across Lucifer's chest, and she heard him chuckle. "I won't stay long," he promised.

"Good." Alex scowled as he stepped away, his wings flicking as he lifted her bag up onto the counter. "I need to get changed. I'm going out with Dean," she whispered, and she batted Lucifer's hand away when it reached for the zipper.

The archangel hummed, his blue eyes pausing on the tie around her neck, and Alex pulled it off from her neck and tossed it onto her bag. "Why are you here?" she whispered. "Don't you have things to do with the demons?"

"I have Crowley under control." Lucifer took her chin in his hands, lifting her head up to kiss her, and Alex couldn't help the hum of pleasure that reverberated in her chest. "Come find me when you're done here," he instructed. "I'll be waiting." The archangel disappeared, his wings stirring the air as he flew away, and Alex's eyes fluttered open. Her grace flicked back out towards Sam and Dean, she heaved a heavy sigh as she started unbuttoning her shirt once again.

The bar was loud, and it was packed. Alex sat on the barstool beside Dean, her fingers playing with the corner of her drink's white napkin. "It's been a long time since we've done this," Dean began, his voice lifted above the clamor. "Just you and me doing things normal people do." He lifted his beer in half of a toast before he took a sip, and Alex's fingers moved to grasp her own drink, the condensation slicking the smooth glass.

"It has," she agreed, and her wings drew in close as a drunken man tried to squeeze past her. "We don't get to do this a lot any more — unless you count those months when you were a demon," she teased, and Dean's face darkened at the memory.

"Don't remind me," he muttered, and Alex let her eyes turn across the bar. "Although, I think I'd rather still have the Mark than have Amara loose like she is."

"No, you wouldn't." Alex's wings flicked as she spoke, and she peeled her rum and coke off of the napkin. "Amara is something that we can deal with — you and the Mark, that was a whole different horror show."

She took a sip as Dean scoffed. "You want to talk about horror?" he said, his voice taking on a faux-humorous tone. "Crowley had you on a tight fucking leash back then." The humor died, and Alex dropped her eyes onto the thin layer of liquid that sat at the bottom of her glass. "Look, Sam's been looking to break your deal," he promised. "I know that Cas has tried everything in the books, but there's always an answer, and we'll find it."

"Don't worry about it." Guilt pulsed through Alex, and her grace dug down to feel where Crowley's deal had used to sit; Lucifer's grace occupied the space now. "Castiel ... he found something to buy me more time," she lied. "Amara is the big fish right now, and we should be focusing on putting her back into her box."

"Maybe," Dean relented, and he tapped the glass base of his bottle against the lacquered wood. "But you're family, and I'll be damned if we're letting Crowley get his hands on you."

Alex snorted into her drink as she swallowed down the last mouthful. "Thanks, Dean, but don't worry. Crowley's not going to get his hands on me, not if L — Castiel has anything to say about it." She cast the Winchester a glance out of the side of her eye, watching to see if he noticed her slip, but Dean didn't spare her a look.

Hands grabbed her shoulder, and Alex jumped, a curse falling from her lips as she spun around. "Hey." Sam stood there, dressed back in his suit and tie, and Alex exchanged a look with Dean, her grey eye narrowed in confusion. "We need to go."

"What happened?" Alex pushed her empty glass away, swiveling on the bar stool to face the Winchester more fully. "Another body?" She looked down at her phone to check the time; she and Dean had been away for little more than an hour.

"Yeah. It's Dan." Sam dug his wallet out of his pocket to drop a couple of twenties down onto the counter, nodding curtly at the bartender. "We need to go talk to Melissa."

"Wait." Dean grabbed his brother's arm, his lips pursed in a small frown. "We should go check out the body." The man in the stool next to Dean stood up to go, and the Winchester moved over to Sam could sit in between them.

"Already did that. His heart was ripped out — same MO." Sam dropped down into his seat with a small shake of his head. "And I spoke with Dan's secretary, who was the last person to see Dan alive. She identified the person who killed him — take a guess. It was Stacy," he explained when Dean only shrugged.

"Great." Dean tipped his beer back to take the last mouthful. "So we're dealing with a shifter who's upping its game by impersonating dead people." He set the bottle down with a shake of his head. "My bet's on the wife."

"It's not her." Alex flicked her grace out to emphasize her words, and two sets of eyes turned onto her. "I can tell," she promised. "She's human. Why'd you go without us?" she asked of Sam. "We could have gone with you."

Sam shrugged. "You didn't answer your phone. Plus, I thought I'd save you the trouble."

Dean leaned forward to glance over at Alex, one eyebrow raised, and Alex met the look with a small grin. "Great, thanks, Sam. Take the dead body and leave talking to the wife to us." She pushed herself off of her bar stool, going to shake out her wings, but they drew back in as a man brushed shoulders with her. "Okay, let's go."

Dean followed her lead, sliding off his stool, and Alex reached out to catch his arm. Her grace rushed through him, scrubbing the alcohol from his blood. "Thanks," Dean muttered, barely audible over the clamor of the bar. "Come on, the house isn't far from here." He held out his hand towards Sam, fingers crooking, but when Sam hesitated, he frowned. "Sam. Keys."

Sam just scoffed. "Dude, how much have you had to drink?" His hands went into his pockets, pulling out the car keys, but they stayed firmly hidden in his fist.

"He's fine to drive," Alex promised, and she tugged on the hem of her jacket. "We should probably swing by the motel and change, though," she added over to the eldest Winchester. "Lead the way."

Alex followed Sam and Dean into the Harper's household, her grace stretching out to search the rooms. Grief hung thick in the air, and Alex instinctively reached out to lock the door behind them. "We're sorry for your loss," she began, but her words sounded too formal, too hollow to sate the sorrow that permeated the walls. Even the rooms felt dark, the fluorescent lights unable to fight back the night that spilled in through the large glass windows.

Melissa led the way into the kitchen, defeat pulling her down with every step. "I just can't ... I can't even believe it." She dropped down into one of the kitchen chairs, her head falling into her hands. "How is this even possible?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Sam promised. His suit and tie were now hidden beneath his black topcoat buttoned tight to keep out the winter's cold, and Alex self-consciously tugged on the sleeves of her thin blazer. Her tie hung loosely around her neck, hastily thrown on while scrambling to change back into her work clothes, but Melissa hadn't appeared to notice the informality.

"Where's the baby?" Dean asked, and Alex turned her attention away from her clothes to flick her grace upstairs.

"She's ... she's with my mom," Melissa admitted.

The brothers exchanged a quick look, and Sam finally cleared his throat. "I, uh ... I hate to have to ask this, but I need to ask you a difficult question." He paused, waiting for Melissa to nod before he spoke again, the only sign of his nervousness evident in how his fingers toyed with the sleeve of his coat. "Were you aware that your husband was having an affair with your babysitter?"

"Yes." Melissa lifted her head from her hands with a heavy sigh. "I knew. I know what you're thinking — jealous wife kills her cheating husband, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I loved Dan. I still do." She looked between Sam and Dean, her eyes wide. "It may sound pathetic, but I thought we still had a chance."

Tears shone in the corners of her eyes, and Alex stepped forward to speak. "We won't take up much more of your time," she promised. "I'm sure the last thing you want at a time like this is the FBI asking around."

"Before we go," Dean added, reaching into his suit pocket, "would you mind writing down a phone number where we can get a hold of you in case we have any more questions?" From one pocket, he produced one of his business cards; from the other, an engraved silver pen.

"Sure." Melissa took both, holding the silver pen firmly in her hand, and Alex chanced a smug look up at both of the brothers as the woman scrawled down her number. Told you.

Melissa handed the card and pen back to Dean, and Sam set a second card down on the table next to her. "And if anything strange or out of the ordinary comes up, don't hesitate to call. We're staying at the motel on Main Street."

Melissa nodded, and Sam led the way back out of the house. Alex shut the door behind her, locking it and, with one last glance back towards the house, she hurried after the brothers. "So, Melissa's not the shifter," she began, unable to hold back the grin. "Imagine that."

"Yeah, yeah." Dean rolled his eyes, his exasperation hidden by the darkness that clung to the air around them. "That just means we're back to square zero. I don't know about you guys, but I think I need a beer, regroup, maybe get lucky."

"You just came from the bar," Sam reminded. "And didn't you just get lucky?"

Dean scoffed. "That was in Kansas. And thanks to Alex, I'm as sober as I've ever been — probably more," he added after a second's thought. "What do you say? You with me? Ready to scrape a few hearts off the barroom floor?"

"No thanks." Sam circled around to his side of the car with a shake of his head. "I think I'll pass. I'm gonna go hit the lore, but you go be you."

Alex felt Dean's eyes turn onto her, and she pulled open the back passenger door before she looked at him over the top of the car. "I think I'll pass on this one, too. You got your free pass for the night, go get hammered again. We won't wait up." She stuck one foot into the car before she paused, her eyes turning back towards the house. "Hey ... should we be worried that something's going to come after her next? That seems like the next logical thing to happen."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks, hesitation flickering across their faces. "Are you volunteering for a stakeout?" Dean finally asked. "Cause I'll be honest, I wasn't planning on sticking around."

Sam's lips pursed, but before he could respond, Alex stepped out of the car and closed the door behind her. "Yeah, I'll stay. You two go on back to the motel to look into lore and ... get fucked."

"Are you sure?" Sam's eyes turned upwards as the first snowflakes began to fall. "It's the middle of January, Pip. You can't just stand out here all night."

"I can, and I will." Alex waved them into the Impala with a flick of her wings. "The cold doesn't bother me, and what's a little snow? There's no point in making you guys sit out here all night when it only takes one of us to watch the house." She stepped back up onto the sidewalk, and with a shrug, Sam and Dean got in and drove away.

She wasn't sure how long she stood outside; without the sun, it was almost impossible to keep track of time. The snow kept falling, thick white flakes that decorated the lawn. Alex stayed pressed up against the garage, standing on the brick path that led to the backyard. The overhang protected her from the snow and the wind, but the angel kept her broken wings pulled in tightly around her to combat the permeating cold. Lucifer's grace stirred within her, confused at her situation, but Alex kept her quelled, pressed down as she prayed that he wouldn't show up.

There was movement in the house, the first in a long time, and Alex's head lifted, her wing uncurling at the sound. No, that wasn't coming from inside the house. There was someone coming up the path.

Alex's feet carried her around the garage, her grace rising to her eye as she scoured the darkness. A figure was moving through the snow, on a straight trajectory towards the front door, and Alex's feet faltered momentarily as she recognized the angular face. Dan Harper.

Her grace went out to probe the stranger in search of a human soul, but there was nothing there but a sharp, burning fire that raged within its chest. The creature rapped on the front door, unaware of Alex's presence, and from within the house, Alex heard a scream. "Honey, let me in," Dan said, pounding upon the door, and Alex's angel blade slipped down into her hands. "Baby, it's me —"

He cut off when Alex whistled, his eyes darkening at the sight of her. "Melissa, stand back," she warned, raising her voice above the wind. The creature threw itself back at the door, and Alex jumped forward, grabbing onto the collar of its jacket and shoving her blade into its back.

The beast howled, its back arching away from the wound, but the fire inside of its chest didn't die. A hand sailed past her head, barely missing her temple, and Alex yanked her blade free and pulled back on the jacket, sending Dan flying backwards. Her grace simultaneously unlocked the front door so she could rush inside, barely ducking a vase that was thrown at her head. "It's me!" she hissed, slamming the door behind her. "It's me, goddammit!"

"A-Agent Kenning?"

"Name's Alex." Her grace locked the door behind her just as Dan threw himself back up against it, the impact of his shoulder causing the door to quiver. "We need to get out of here. Where's your car?"

"In the garage —" Melissa cut off with a small shriek as Dan punched through the door, the wood splintering beneath the blow.

"Go, get it started and out in the street. I'll be out after you." Alex waved her away, rocking up onto the balls of her feet as Dan felt along the door, his fingers feeling for the lock. She reluctantly stowed her angel blade, pushing down the rush of fear that followed; what was this thing that barely batted an eye against heaven's weapon?

Her grace unlocked the door before retreating to surround her. Dan fell inwards, catching himself on all fours as he snarled. He threw himself forward, and Alex jerked to the side to avoid a fist that flashed past her shoulder. The grace on her blind side sparked, and Alex ducked, barely avoiding a blow that would have cracked her skull.

The car roared to life, and Dan's head snapped towards the sound, giving Alex the opportunity she needed to grab the creature's arm. She stepped forward, pivoting on her foot to place her back up against him; a quick grapple and a yank had the creature falling over her back to land flat on the ground. Alex followed the hip toss by a sharp jab to the ribs with the heel of her foot before she bolted, leaving Dan on the hardwood floor, the breath knocked from his lungs.

A silver sedan sat in the street, the engine roaring and the headlights on, and Alex yanked the door shut behind her, her grace locking it as she rushed down the lawn and jumped into the front seat. "Drive," she hissed, and the car jerked forward as Melissa accelerated down the street.

"What the hell was that thing?" The woman's voice was on the edge of hysteria, but Alex didn't immediately answer, her eyes locked on the rearview mirror to make sure that they weren't being followed.

"I don't know," she finally said as the car rounded the corner, and she let some of the tension leave her wings as she leaned back in her seat. "I've never seen anything quite like that before. Head towards Main Street," she ordered. "Our motel's down that way."

"What is — that was Dan." The car swerved as Melissa shuddered. "My husband. How ..."

"I'll explain everything once we get to where we're going," Alex promised. "Just keep driving." She gripped the handle on the side of the car as the sedan took the corner too quickly, and her good eye scanned the darkness in search of the Too Tired Motel, her fingers tapping impatiently on the plastic.

"How did you know to be there?" Melissa's voice had lost some of its panic, and Alex felt her eyes turn onto her. "Were you — were you waiting outside?"

"Yeah. You're welcome." The Impala sat in the motel parking lot, the establishment's neon sign reflected in the black paint, and Alex pointed towards the car as Melissa swung the sedan off of the road. "There." She leapt out before the car came to a complete stop, shaking out her wings as she looked around, but they were alone. "This way."

She led the way to the motel door, unlocking it and pushing it open with a single touch, and she stepped aside to let Melissa through first, her wings flittering warily before she followed. Both Winchesters were inside. Sam sat at the table on his laptop; Dean stood behind him, his gun drawn at their sudden entrance. "Everything okay?"

"No." Alex slammed the door shut behind her, locking the deadbolt and sliding the chain lock into place. "We're definitely not dealing with a shifter." She stalked into the room, tossing her angel blade onto the table in passing. "This didn't even slow it down."

"It was Dan," Melissa blurted out. "He tried to kill me. I think ..." Her voice wavered, and Alex grabbed her duffle bag off of the bed as the woman added, "I think this may all be my fault."

"Okay, why don't you sit down," Dean suggested, and at the same time Sam asked, "What do you mean this didn't slow it down?"

"I mean I stabbed it, and it lived." Alex dug a pair of jeans from her bag and slung them over her shoulder as Melissa shakily dropped down into the chair across from Sam. "It was a solid hit, too, right to the back." She yanked out a t-shirt and, with a muttered excuse, ducked into the bathroom to change.

"I swear, I really did love Dan," she heard Melissa insist as she closed the door behind her. "Maybe a little too much. I just ... I wanted him to love me back. So I got some advice and confided in my hairdresser about the affair."

"Wait, women actually do that?" Dean's scoff was almost inaudible as Alex yank her shirt on over her head and pulled on her jeans. She shook her wings out as she finished, shoving her discarded clothes into the corner of the bathroom before she rejoined the Winchesters.

"— Told me there was a way to get him back," Melissa was saying. "I knew she, uh ...dabbled in stuff."

"Great." Alex scowled. "That means we're probably dealing with a witch."

"A white witch," Melissa insisted, and when Alex rolled her eyes, she looked desperately between Sam and Dean. "Listen, I don't usually believe in that kind of stuff, but I was desperate."

Dean shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the bed with a shake of his head. "And let me guess. She gave you a spell."

"Yes. A 'return to love' spell. All I had to do was chant it and seal it with a kiss." Her eyes widened. "I didn't mean for this to happen, I swear. I just wanted my husband back. I — I have a copy of it here." She dug around in her purse and held out a slip of paper towards Sam, and Alex leaned against the back of his chair to read the scrawled letters.

"Nuwshqto dy mwt." Alex read the Aramaic title out loud, and she placed a hand on Sam's shoulder, squeezing tightly to reveal her displeasure. "You do realize what that says, right? It's the kiss of death."

Melissa's face paled, but the only outward show of Dean's displeasure came in the form of a thin frown. "What does the lore say?" he asked, and Alex directed her attention down onto Sam.

"There is no lore," the hunter reluctantly admitted, staring at the blank webpage in front of him. "My best guess is that this is the white witch's home cooking." He reached up to touch Alex's hand, and the angel quickly relaxed her grip with a murmured apology.

"Okay, well, how does it spread?" she asked, stepping away to retrieve her old beer bottle from beside the couch; she frowned to find it empty. "I mean, it sounds like it's passed on through kissing —"

"Like a magical STD," Dean joked, and Alex rolled her eyes.

"Sure, Dean. But then how did Stacy get it? Melissa didn't kiss her." She cast the woman a quick glance, a question on her face; judging by Melissa's expression, she was correct. "Do you think Dan passed it onto her? Then why did she die first?"

"I don't know," Sam admitted. "Maybe you're safe if you can pass the curse on?"

"And then if that person dies, it comes back to you," Dean finished, and Alex flicked her wings in agreement as she crossed over to the sink; sounded like a reasonable possibility.

Sam nodded. "I mean, that would make sense." He closed his laptop with a glance off towards Alex, and Alex echoed his sentiment as she set her beer bottle on the counter. "It would explain why, whatever this thing is, it's working its way back to Melissa."

"Speaking of," Alex added, "We should get moving before that thing gets here." She hurried over to the door and peered the peephole, her grace flicking warily. "It can't be far behind —"

The window shattered, and Alex flinched away as a dark shape flung itself through. Sam jumped to his feet, but Dan grabbed his arm and threw him off to the side. Three shots echoed through the room, and Alex flinched away from Dean's gun. "That won't do anything!" she hissed, and she threw herself forward, tackling the creature onto the couch.

"Dean, no!" Sam's shout had Alex whipping her head around in time to watch Dean grab Melissa and kiss her.

That was all she saw before the creature shoved her aside and threw itself at Dean. Alex lunged after him, wrapping her arms around his waist as she tackled him to the ground. "Run!" she got out before Dan had her by the neck, its hot fingers digging into her flesh, and Alex shrieked as her grace rose up in protest.

Lucifer's grace followed suit, exploding out of her chest in a clap of thunder, and then Dan was gone. She spun around to find a hole in the motel wall, and her wings flittered as she searched for the creature.

"Come on." Sam's shout came from the door, and Alex hesitated only a second before she bolted after him. Dean and Melissa were already outside, and Alex stopped beside the Impala, her eyes scanning the darkness around them in search of the creature.

The engine started, and Alex threw herself into the backseat beside Melissa as the Impala lurched off down the street. "Is it gone?" Dean demanded, and Alex tore her eyes away from the street.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't think I killed it, but I think ... I think I bought us some time. Just keep driving for a bit." She shifted on the leather seat, her wings drawn in tightly as she glanced over at Melissa before her eyes slid up onto Dean. "Should we talk about this?"

The Impala jerked as Dean slammed on the brakes, and he guided the car off to the side of the road. "Out," he ordered. "Melissa, stay here. We need to talk." He threw open the door and got out, and Alex exchanged a quick look with Sam before she followed. "Look." Dean spoke the moment that Sam closed the door behind him. "It got the target off of her back, okay?"

"Yeah," Sam reluctantly agreed, "but you didn't have to do this. Be the guinea pig, the martyr. Try and carry the weight by yourself."

Dean scowled. "I'm gonna be fine, okay? And as long as I'm good, she's good and that's the important thing. Besides, it proved our theory, didn't it? That this whole kiss of death thing is transmittable. I mean, I'm not asking for the Nobel here, but you're welcome."

"Dean, let me take the curse." Alex pushed herself past Sam, circling around the hood to stand in front of him. "I'm obviously the one who can handle it the best, and if that thing comes after us again, I'm the best prepared to deal with it."

"No." Dean held out his hand to keep her back. Sam frowned, and Dean's voice rose in indignation. "No! Look, we don't know how much time we have — I mean, it's not like this thing is exactly following a pattern. Also, we can confirm that it's not a shifter," he added with a scowl. "I pumped it full of silver and it didn't even flinch."

"What kind of FBI agents are you?" Melissa stepped out of the car, ignoring Alex's thin frown.

"The fake kind," Dean promised, and Sam added, "We're hunters."

"What's important is that we help people like you," Alex finished. "Look, we need to know where to find your witch friend, because she's the only one who knows what this thing is and how to find it."

"I don't know much about her," Melissa admitted. "Her name is Sonja. She's kind of weird. I don't — she's only been my hairdresser for a couple of years. She ... she gave me the spell in the basement of her salon," she added at the sight of the Winchester's frowns.

"Great. Then that's where we're going." Alex circled back around to her side of the car, motioning for Melissa to get back inside. Sam and Dean exchanged one last look over the top of the Impala before they followed, and the engine roared to life as Alex slid into the backseat. Lucifer's grace rose up within her, cold against hers, and the angel leaned up against the window as the Impala started off down the road. Maybe it was for the best that Dean had refused to pass on the curse; Alex wasn't sure how the archangel would have reacted, but she was confident it wouldn't have been good.

The darkened salon sat on the corner of the road, nearly hidden by the darkness. Alex shifted in the backseat as the Impala rolled to a stop, and she cast a quick look around at her companions. As always, Sam and Dean were the epitome of calmness, but Melissa's face had paled to the point that it almost glowed. "The Art of Dyeing." Dean read aloud the wooden sign that hung above the door as the engine died. "Well, can't say she didn't warn you."

Alright." Sam turned in his seat, a silver knife in his hands. "Just keep the door locked and stay put until we get back. Unless Sonja shows up," he added, and he held the knife out handle-first. "Then use this on her."

"It won't kill her, but it'll slow her down," Dean finished.

"Are you serious?" Melissa's voice rose, her eyes going wide. "I can't stab anyone!"

"Listen to me." Dean pocketed the keys as he spoke, his voice stern as he turned to face her. "Sonja's not just anyone. She's a wicked witch who offed your husband and tried to kill you, so if she shows up here, you punch her, you stab her, you drop a fucking house on her if you have to."

"We won't be long," Alex added, and she threw open the car door. "No more than fifteen minutes, if we're lucky."

She got out of the Impala, her eyes fixed on the building as she waited for Sam and Dean to join her. She heard the car click as the locks slid down into place, and she fell in step at Sam's side as they crossed the street. The front door opened easily beneath her touch, and Alex let Sam and Dean through first before she took up the rear and closed the door behind them. Sam's flashlight flickered on as he stepped into the room, and Alex felt Dean pause, his eyes turning onto the gun in Sam's hand. "Witch-killing bullets," he explained, and Alex added, "We crafted them for Rowena a while back."

"Huh." Dean's flashlight turned across her face, and Alex resisted from shying away from the brightness. "We gotta think of a better name for that." He moved past Alex to walk further into the shop, and the angel rolled her eyes. Sam walked over to the windows, and Alex turned her attention to the cabinets that lined the far wall.

"You actually think something's going to be up here?" she asked, dragging her fingers across the line of shampoos and dyes. "If we're looking for illegal activities, we should head to the back."

"This way." Dean pried open the door labeled Employees Only, and Alex lifted her grace up to her eye to peer down the staircase. He started down them without a second's hesitation, and Alex glanced over at Sam to make sure that he was following before she hurried after Dean.

Windows lined the top of the walls, letting in the thin moonlight, and Alex pressed her grace throughout the rooms, frowning at the sight of the plastic sheets that hung from the wooden beams across the ceiling. "Locked cabinet," Sam suddenly announced, and she turned to find him crouching beside a wooden desk. He pulled his knife out from his pocket, flipping open the blade, but Alex reached out to stop him before he could wedge the blade into the drawer.

"You'll break that," she warned, and she steadied herself against his shoulder as she leaned down to touch the lock. The drawer opened with a creak, and Alex pulled away to watch Dean flick on an overhead light, bathing the room in a yellow glow.

Sam rifled around through the drawer and, with a grunt of satisfaction, lifted a book up onto the desk. "Alright," he began, flipping through the yellowed pages. "Got it. It looks like we're dealing with a qareen."

"Never heard of it," both Alex and Dean said at the same time, and the angel tipped her head to study the pages in front of her. "What is it, middle eastern?" she added.

"Looks like. It's a creature, corporeal in form," Sam read, his fingers going out to touch the colored post-it notes that held translations from the flowing Arabic script. "A slave to your commands."

"Kind of like a genie," Dean joked from beyond the plastic sheets, and Sam scoffed.

"I guess," he agreed, and his fingers moved down the page. "Here we go. Someone chants a curse, lays a wet one on you, then the victim is seduced and killed by the quareen, but instead of taking the form of Barbara Eden, they present themselves as your deepest, darkest desires."

Dean stepped out from behind the plastic. "Makes sense why the sitter was killed by the husband," he admitted. "And the husband by the sitter."

"Yeah. And why Melissa was attacked by Dan. She really loved him." Sam frowned as Dean laughed, his forehead creasing in confusion. "What?"

"You know the silver lining about being cursed? I'll finally get some face time with Daisy Duke." Dean grinned and, when Sam's confusion only deepened, he expounded, "My deepest darkest desire."

"Seriously?"

"Ever since I was seven."

"So, Bach not Simpson."

"I have absolutely no idea what either of you are talking about." Alex broke into their rapid-fire exchange, her feathers rustling as she shifted her stance. "What does any of that mean?"

"I'll explain later," Sam promised, and Dean simultaneously asked, "So, how do we kill it?"

"Um ..." Sam's finger trailed down the page, jumping from post-it to post-it. "By stabbing it in its heart," he finally read, pointing to a note at the bottom of the page.

Alex's eyes drifted up to the picture that sat in the middle of the page, to the black-skinned qareen that held its heart in its hand. "Yeah, that's great and all," she agreed, "but this guy's got a big old hole in his chest were that —" She reached past Sam to touch the heart, "— is supposed to be."

"Well, that's because it's apparently not in him." Sam pointed to the note in the bottom right corner. "The person who holds the qareen's heart is the one who commands it," he paraphrased, and Alex frowned.

"So, Sonja the hairdresser," Dean finished, stating the obvious, and Sam closed the book with a roll of his eyes.

"Alright, let's find us a heart. I'll take upstairs." He picked his gun up off of the desk, but when Dean didn't voice his agreement, he hesitated, looking back towards his brother. Dean held his hands out, one fist resting against the palm of his other. "Seriously?" Sam cocked an eyebrow, but Dean insisted, sticking his hands out further. Sam tucked his gun into his jeans with a shrug.

Dean shook his fist, once, twice, and the Winchesters threw their choice. Rock. Both brothers' eyes went wide, Dean's with elation, Sam's with horror. Alex circled around to stand at Sam's side, her wings curling forward in curiosity; she hadn't see tie a round of rock, paper, scissors in ... ever, really.

They went again — both threw scissors. Dean leaned forward, his face screwed in concentration, and Alex glanced up to watch Sam shifted nervously. They threw one last time. Rock from Sam. Paper from Dean.

Dean's face lit up in a grin of elation and surprise, and Sam squared his jaw, hazel eyes flickering down to Alex. "Whatever," he muttered as Dean pumped his fist into the air. "I'm going upstairs."

Dean skipped off further into the basement, and Alex, hesitating for only a second, ran off after Sam. "Wait, I thought —" She scrubbed at her temple in confusion as she followed Sam up the stairs. "How ... Dean won." Sam's grunt was the only answer she got, and she paused on the top step. "Why didn't he come up here?"

"Hey." Sam turned to face her, and Alex frowned to find that her question was ignored. "Stay down there with Dean, okay? If that qareen comes back, it's going after him."

Alex glanced back down the stairs with a grim shrug. "Sounds like a plan," she agreed. "I'll go check on Melisa before I go back down, make sure that she's not freaking out too much." She waited for Sam to nod before she crossed the building to slip out the front door onto the sidewalk. The Impala sat on the other side of the road, illumined by the streetlight, and Alex glanced up and down the snow-covered pavement before she made her way over to the car.

She could see Melissa huddled in the backseat, the silver knife gripped tightly in her hands, and Alex's grace unlocked the back door so she could pull it open. "Hey," she greeted, her good eye flashing in amusement to see how the woman jumped in surprise. "Everything okay out here?"

"Everything's fine." The woman managed a weak smile that didn't quite reach her fear-darkened eyes. "Is — did you —"

"We're still working on it." Alex turned her eyes back onto the road, peering into the darkness that lay beyond the yellow glow of the street lamps. "What we're hunting is called a qareen — all we need to do is find its heart." She ignored Melissa's confused look with a flick of her wings. "We'll be back shortly."

With that, she closed the door, her eyes narrowed as she slipped back across the street and into the white-painted shop. The ceiling overhead creaked with Sam's heavy footsteps, but Alex ignored them as she crossed the room and descended the stairs. She felt Lucifer's grace stir, nothing more than a lazy, curious twist, and she gently pushed it back into place as she stepped onto the concrete landing.

"— mean who am I?" she heard Dean ask, and she froze, her grace snapping out through the half-finished basement. She could feel the Winchester on the other side of the room, hidden by the sheets of plastic hanging from the ceiling, and just in front of him rested something as hot as fire.

"You're a mystery." A familiar voice spoke, one that had Alex's hair standing on end, and she slipped forward, her wings drawn in tight as she wove silently through the plastic maze. "I can see inside your heart. Feel the love you feel. Except it's cloaked in shame. When it comes to this, you can't help yourself, so why fight it? Just give in."

The plastic parted, revealing Dean Winchester and Amara, and Alex instinctively reached back to draw her weapon at the sight of the Darkness even as her grace reminded her that what stood before her was the qareen.

Dean's eyes flickered past the creature to rest on her, and Amara followed his gaze. Her face darkened, and Alex lifted her wings warily as she moved inwards. "So, you're a qareen, huh?" she asked, and she forced her grace to pull her weapon up her sleeve and out of sight. "I don't think I've ever seen one of you before."

Dean threw himself forward, but the attack was hesitant, and the qareen easily caught him by the throat. The Winchester's eyes went wide, and he gasped for air, his nails scrabbling at her hand. Alex's weapon fell back down into her grasp, and she rushed towards them. The qareen threw Dean across the room to meet her attack, and the Winchester hit the floor as Alex wound up for the punch.

The creature moved faster than anticipated. She sidestepped the blow, and Alex let out a shout of surprise as hot fingers dug into her temple, holding her head tight. Amara's eyes flashed with fire. "Let's see what's in here," she hissed, and Alex groaned as the heat from her fingers pulsed inwards in one hot, painful burst.

The air in front of her shimmered, and Amara's dark eyes faded, replaced with ones of icy blue; Alex distantly felt her weapon fall from her hands and clatter to the concrete floor. "There we go." A hand swiped through dirty blonde hair as the qareen stepped away, and Alex felt her wings tremble in shock. "Now this ... this I wasn't expecting, le pas agi."

The Enochian sounded foreign on the qareen's tongue, and Alex's feathers rustled, but she stayed silent as Lucifer chuckled. Her eyes flickered back onto Dean, her grace drawing in tightly in at the look of horror on his face. Her head snapped back to Lucifer — to the qareen — as she felt him step closer, and she balled her fists. Her grace snapped outwards, flickering the lights above their head. Come on, Sam. Where are you?

The qareen threw himself forward with a snarl, and Alex steeled herself, ready to defend herself and Dean, but the opportunity never came. The qareen stopped short, his eyes going wide as he gasped for air. The air vibrated, a slow thrum at first but picking up speed, and a white light burned within his chest. Alex stepped back, the back of her legs bumping into the wooden table as the creature tremored, his mouth stretching widen in a pained scream as it imploded.

It disappeared in a cloud of smoke, vanishing into thin air, and Alex's wings drew in close as she turned to look back at Dean, her eyes as wide as his. "I won't tell Sam if you don't," she breathed out.

Dean didn't respond, and Alex watched as he pushed himself to his feet. "Where's Sam?"

"He's upstairs. He must have ... he must have found the heart." Alex suppressed a small shiver as she reached down to feel Lucifer's grace, curling around it in search of comfort. "We should go find him." She rushed up the stairs without a second's hesitation, willing her hands to stop shaking. Why did that thing have to show her Lucifer?

"Dean?" Footsteps thundered on the stairs as Sam hurried down from the upper level, his brown hair tousled and sticking to his face. Hazel eyes were stretched wide in alarm as he looked past Alex in search of his brother.

"We're okay." Alex rocked up onto her tiptoes to touch Sam's temple, healing a cut that bled freely. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Sonja." Sam ran his hands through his hair, smoothing it back as relief flooded his eyes at the sight of Dean, safe and unharmed. He glanced behind him, and Alex followed his gaze to see Melissa standing there, her silver knife in her hands. "The witch is dead," he relayed, "and I found the heart. Is the qareen ..."

"Dead." Alex jumped in before Dean could say anything. "It just sort of ... collapsed in on itself, I guess. What are you doing here?" she added over to Melissa. "I told you to stay in the car."

"I ... I saw Sonja follow you in." The woman shifted uncomfortably under Alex's sharp stare, and Alex looked away as Dean's shoulder brushed against her.

She turned, looking up at him, but the Winchester continued on, pushing his way out of the store. "We'll drive you back to your house," she promised, frowning at Dean's sudden departure. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

The motel lights flickered, and Alex glanced up at the ceiling with a frown. Her head tipped as she watched the lightbulb flicker again, and her grace reached out to feel through the walls. "Faulty wiring. Great." She spoke the words to herself, barely loud enough for Sam to hear. The Winchester sat at the table, his packed bag on the floor next to him as he stared down at his laptop. He looked up as she spoke, his angular face scrunched. "Must be," he agreed, and his eyes turned towards the closed bathroom door where Dean had locked himself away. "Hey, I gotta ask. Who was it that Dean saw with the qareen? He's been acting a little ... a little weird since we got back."

Alex felt her face flush at the memory, and she busied herself by shoving her computer into her bag. "Sorry," she apologized, forcing a smile to keep her tone light. "It's not my place to share a guy's darkest desires. You're gonna have to ask him yourself."

Amara and Lucifer. Alex turned away so Sam couldn't see her scowl. The Darkness and the devil himself. Talk about fucked up.

The bathroom door opened to reveal Dean, and Alex slipped past him into the small room, her bag in her hands. She kicked the door shut and locked it, rolling her eyes as she started to throw her things haphazardly into her bag. "So," she heard Sam start. "You gonna keep me in suspense or what?"

Dean's surprise was palpable. "About what?"

"Who was it? Bach or Simpson?"

Silence followed the question, and Alex paused, her wings flitting nervously as she awaited the answer. "Neither," Dean finally admitted. "It was Amara."

Another long pause followed his words, and Alex flinched away from inside the bathroom; that secret had been the one consolation that Dean wouldn't tell Sam about what the qareen had seen in her. "That surprise you?" she finally heard Sam ask.

"That doesn't surprise you?" Dean immediately countered. Sam said something, his one-word question lost beneath the rustling as Alex shoved the last of her things into her bag. "Honesty?" Dean said, incredulity lining his voice. "You seriously think the sister of God is my deepest, darkest desire?"

"She isn't?"

"No! She can't be!" Dean's voice was rising higher in desperation, and Alex zipped up her duffle bag, reluctant to rejoin the Winchesters.

"Why not?" Sam asked as she pulled open the door; he was on his feet, standing in front of his brother, and his eyes flickered over to her as he spoke.

Dean scoffed, seemingly unaware of her return. "Why? Because if she is that means I'm ..."

He trailed off, his face darkened with a mixture of pain and horror. His jaw tightened as he tried to fight against his anger and rein his emotions back, but his eyes still revealed his fear. "Means you're what?" Sam challenged; despite the sharpness of his words, his face was calm. "Complicit? Weak? Evil?"

"For starters, yeah."

"Dean." Sam sat down on the edge of the table, his hands on his knees. "Do you honestly think you ever had a choice in the matter? She's the sister of God, and for some reason she picked you and that sucks, but if you think I'm gonna blame you or judge you ... I'm not. Right?" His eyes swung over to Alex, and the angel reluctantly dropped her bag down onto the bed.

"Right," she agreed as Dean's eyes turned onto her. "Look, there's just some things in life that we ... we can't control, and there's no point in blaming ourselves for it."

She watched as Dean's face darkened at her words, and she picked up her bag once more and slipped past him, her wings drawn in close. "You know that I want her ass dead," Dean insisted, his voice dropping low.

"Yes. Of course." Sam jumped to agree, and Alex pulled on her shoes as he added, "And I know you've also probably beaten yourself up a hundred times over it, but where has that gotten us?" A long silence followed his words, and Alex glanced over her shoulder in time to watch Sam shift upon the table with a sigh. "Just how bad is it?"

Dean hesitated. "Standing here right now, every bone in my body wants to run her through," he finally said, each word spoken slowly. "To send her back to that hole she crawled out of. But when I'm near her ... I don't know. Something happens and I can't explain it, but to call it desire or love — it's not that." His shoulders fell, and he shook his head. "I'm screwed, man. We want to kill the Darkness — we need to kill the Darkness. And I don't think I can. I'm sorry to do that to you, ya know, but when it comes right down to it ..."

He fell silent, his face darkening as he thought, and Sam pushed himself to his feet. "I get it, Dean," he promised; a glance over at Alex had the young angel nodded in agreement. "You going somewhere?"

"Yeah." Alex slung her bag over her shoulder and she reached for the motel door. "I'm not liking this radio-silence from Crowley," she said, the practiced lie coming easily. "I don't know if he's busy or if he's sulking, but I'm going to check up on him. Now isn't the time for him to go AWOL like this."

She avoided Dean's gaze, her wings drawn in tightly in hopes that the Winchester wouldn't question her motives. Sam nodded, and Alex slipped out of the motel room, shaking her wings out as she hurried away. "Luce?" She whispered the archangel's name as she stepped out of sight of the motel, and she felt his grace twist inside of her in answer. Castiel's grace sat beneath it, a hard, impenetrable ball, and Alex prodded at it with a tight-lipped frown. "The case is over with. I'm on my way."