January 4th, 2015
Bemidji, Minnesota

The wind whipped through her hair, and Alex squinted against the blinding snowflakes that bit at her skin. The hand that gripped her angel blade was frozen stiff, fingers numb, but she kept her warm grace tucked up tightly within her. The sunlight caused the snow to sparkle beneath her feet as she crossed the ground towards a small cottage in the woods. The angel prowled forward, jaw clenched to keep her teeth from rattling from the cold as she made her way up the front steps. There were voices inside, too garbled to understand through the wooden door, and Alex hesitated for a moment to let her grace warm her hands before she roughly shoved her way through.

The door flew open with a bang, and Alex burst into the cabin. Black eyes met hers, and for a second, everything was still. And then the room sprung to life. A demon launched himself at her, and the angel blade left Alex's hands to embed itself in his chest as the angel rose up to meet a second demon. Her hand closed around its forehead, and the possessed stranger died with a strangled cry.

Alex spun around and wrenched the blade from the other's dying heart, and the two bodies collapsed onto the wooden floor with a synchronized thud.

The third demon was slower, taking his time to put down his drink before he rose to his feet. "You." He spat out the word as he sized the angel up, and Alex's boots scuffed against the wooden floor as she stepped over the fallen corpses.

"Yes, me." The angel dragged her fingers mindlessly across the edge of the table. "Hell of a hiding place, by the way. Crowley's hounds had a bitch of a time finding it." Her words were nearly drowned out by howling from outside, a dangerous, haunting accentuation, and Alex's eyes narrowed in satisfaction at how the demon's eyes flittered nervously.

"We had a deal."

"Crowley and you had a deal," Alex corrected. "And that was back when Dean was still icing demons. But now he's cured, and you've outlived your usefulness." She twisted the angel blade in her hands as she stepped forward, and the demon's eyes flashed black. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and Alex paused to look down to see Sam's name flashing across the screen. "Sorry. We're going to need to hurry this up."

The table legs squealed as she shoved it aside, and demon snarled as Alex's angel blade flashed in the harsh light. Flesh tore beneath its sharp edges, and the snarl died into a gasp. Fingernails dug into her wrists as the demon struggled, and droplets of blood beaded up from her pale skin. "Long live the Queen —"

Alex thrust the blade in deeper, and the tip dug into the wall behind him. Her eyes narrowed as the demon's face burned away, and it went limp beneath her. "Yeah, yeah." She yanked her weapon free, and the corpse toppled to the ground. Alex picked up his drink and slammed down the rest, tongue curling at the bitter taste. "More like long live me."

The wind threw the door wide open as she stepped outside, and Alex drew her grace up into her eyes as the scenery twisted in the corner of her vision. A dark shape emerged from thin air, eyes glowing as bright as hellfire, and stained teeth bared in a snarl as Alex knelt down to clean her blade off in the snow. "Good girl, Juliet," she praised as the hellhound prowled closer, and the black beast's ears pricked forward. Steam hung in the air as the creature exhaled, and Alex stiffened slightly as the grotesque hound loped forward to sniff at her clothes. Its hot nose nudged at her neck, and the young angel gently moved to push her away. "Good," she praised once more, and she forced herself to relax her grip on her weapon.

"You're lucky." The sound of Crowley's voice had Alex rising back to her feet to face the King of Hell. "Juliet doesn't often take a shine to people." His lips pursed in a shrill whistle, and the hellhound bounded over to its master. "Who's my pretty girl?" Crowley's voice grew uncharacteristically warm as he bent down to rub his pet's head, and the beast whined out its response. "Well?" The King of Hell straightened as he turned back to the angel. "How'd it go?"

"Great." Alex tucked her weapon into the back of her jeans as she drew her hands up into her jacket sleeves, fingers curled against the cold. "All three of Abaddon's junkies went down with no problem."

"Three?" Crowley's eyes darkened, and his voice grew sharp. "There were supposed to be four."

"Well, there were only three when I got here," the angel retorted. "Isn't that right, Jules?" The hellhound paid her no attention, and Alex's gaze turned back onto the demon. "Point is I did my job, and I should be getting back. You said you had something for me?"

"Of course." Crowley reached into his pocket, and Alex's eyes widened in surprise as he pulled out a glass vial filled with swirling blue grace. "Don't worry," the demon promised when Alex took a hesitant step backwards. "It came from one of Castiel's unruly runaways. A young one; Zuriel, I believe. I'm sure he won't be missed."

"Zuriel?" The name tasted familiar on her tongue, and Alex paused. "Are you sure?"

"Knew him, did we?"

"Yeah — no. No. I think we'd met before. Once." Alex shook her head, dismissing the thought, and her voice grew stern with conviction. "I don't want his grace. You shouldn't have done that."

The demon waved off her concern. "Shouldn't, couldn't, wouldn't. Point is, I did. The more grace you have, the stronger you are, and the less I have to intervene." He held out the vial, shaking it enticingly, but still the angel held back. "Take it. What you have now's already draining away, isn't it? How much longer will that last? A day, maybe two? At the rate you're burning through it, you won't last the week."

He shook the vial again, and Alex's fingers hesitantly closed around the glass. She tucked it deep into her jacket pocket, safe from harm and out of sight. "Just take me back to the car." She crouched down to dig out a six pack of beer from the snow beneath her feet, something she had buried before she had approached the cabin, and the second her fingers closed around the handle, the world went black.

The ground spun from beneath her feet, and then the sun was back, hot and heavy on her clothed shoulders. The angel rolled up her sleeves at the sudden change in temperature, and she felt the vial sway against her side. Crowley's gaze dropped down to it, but it lingered for less than a second. "Think about it," he advised, and then he was gone.

Alex's phone rang again, and this time she answered it. "Hey, Dean. What's up?"

"How long does it take to pick up some snacks?" came the half-humored response. "You said you were running to the gas station on the corner."

"Uh, yeah." Alex's attention turned onto the sleek shape of the Impala beside her, and she hurried over to it, digging the keys out of her pocket as she paused beside the driver's door. "I, uh, I just got back. You guys still where you were?"

"Yeah. Hurry up, would ya?"

"Sure thing." Alex hung up the phone and shoved it back into her pocket as she ducked down to pull free the plastic shopping bag from the passenger seat. The beer clanked as she shifted it to her other hand, kicking the Impala door closed behind her, and then she stepped over the concrete parking block and onto the grass. She could see the lake just down the paved walking path, the glittering blue water broken only by the outlines of two men seated in canvas camping chairs.

They didn't notice her approach until she cleared her throat, and Sam pulled off his sunglasses to look up into her face. "Hey," he greeted. "How'd it go?"

Dean's welcome was to simply take the beer, and Alex let him have it with no complaints. "I was just picking up snacks," she joked. "It went as fine as it could have gone."

"How'd you get the beer so cold?" Dean took one for himself and set the rest onto the grass between him and his brother. "It's like fifty degrees out here."

Alex shrugged, and she hurried over to her own seat when Sam picked up the cardboard container with a confused, "Is that snow?"

"Pfft, what? No." Alex sank into her own chair and reached for her snacks to hide the flush in her face. "It was like that when I bought it." She cleared her throat, intent on changing the topic before they pried too far.

Thankfully, the brothers fell silent, and Alex turned her attention out onto the lake. The parking lot behind her had been half full, but the lake was still empty; despite the unusually warm January weather, it was apparently not warm enough yet to be out on the water. "Hey," Dean finally began, and Alex cast him a glance out of the corner of her eye. "I need to ask you something."

Sam looked over at his brother in surprise. "Shoot."

"You've been ... kicked, bit, scratched, stabbed, possessed, killed ... and you sprain your fucking elbow?" Dean's voice lifted in amusement, and Alex chuckled under her breath.

Sam, however, just rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Dude, it was more than a sprain, alright?" he insisted, and he looked down at the black sling around his left arm. "And it was a fucking demon, but ..."

"But what?" Dean's eyebrow cocked from behind his sunglasses as he turned to face his brother more fully. "That sling come with a slice of crybaby pie on the side?" He scoffed as Sam laughed, and for a moment the two fell silent.

Sam studied his brother for a moment before his voice took on a concerned tone. "How you doing?"

"Golden, man." Dean leaned back in his chair, and his head tipped in Sam's direction when his brother made a disbelieving noise. "Seriously, man, I am." His face grew serious as he shook his head. "You know, taking some 'we time' ... best decision we ever made."

Alex felt his gaze turn onto her, and she gave a half-hearted nod, unable to fully related to the Winchesters' time off. She turned back to the lake as beer bottles clinked together in a toast, and she heard Sam add an amused, "Here that."

"So." Alex turned back to the brothers just in time to watch them both take a long drink. "Did either of you guys see that thing in the paper this morning?"

Dean nodded, and Sam let out a long breath. "Maybe it was an animal kill," he suggested, but the hesitation in his voice lent itself to his own skepticism.

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but Alex was quicker. "It was three kills," she reminded, "all within the same town in the same month." Sam frowned in reluctant agreement, and the young angel added, "Maybe we should call some guys, have them take care of it."

"Good. Smart," Dean agreed, and Sam chimed in with a, "Done." The two fell silent, and after a second or two, Dean spoke again. "Or ... we could be in and out. It's a milk run."

Alex looked back in time to see the Winchester shrug, but Sam scoffed loudly. "Right, because that happens ... never."

Dean leaned forward in his seat, and he took off his sunglasses to look his brother in the eye. "Look, Sam," he began, his voice taking on a tone of earnestness, "what we're doing here, it's good, okay? All of us hanging out. But I need to work ... I need this."

Sam took off his glasses as well, and Dean took a sip of his beer while he waited for a reply. For a second, Sam was quiet, a pensive frown upon his face, but with reluctant hesitation, he finally began, "If things go sideways ... I mean, like an inch, you gotta give me the heads-up."

"Done." Relief flashed across Dean's face. "You got my word." He jumped to his feet and gathered up his things, and Alex turned her head to watch him hurry off towards the Impala, chair in one hand, the cooler of beer in the other.

Sam sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, and Alex pushed her own self to her feet with a shake of her head. "I'll keep a close eye on him," she promised. "I had to deal with him as demon; I think I can handle him now." She patted the Winchester on the knee, and, when Sam merely grunted, she folded up her chair and followed after Dean.

Durham, Washington

The station door swung open, a welcome relief from the west coast wind, and Alex hurried inside, shaking off the cold as she pressed herself between Sam and Dean. Both were dressed in game warden uniforms, outfits long ago acquired, but Alex was dressed differently, her normal black and white attire standing in stark contrast to the muted greens and browns of her companions. She dug into her pockets for her badge as the Winchesters did the same, and the man Alex assumed to be the sheriff jumped up to his feet at their appearance. His hand extended out, and when Dean handed him his badge, the sheriff's face softened in relief. "Gentlemen," he greeted with a grin, and after a second his gaze flickered down to Alex, noticing the smaller hunter for the first time. "Well, I'm not gonna lie. We're damn glad to see you." He handed Dean's ID back to him as he added, "You boys must come up on stuff like this all the time."

"Oh yeah," both brothers agreed in unison, and Alex chimed in with a half-hearted, "Definitely."

The dark-haired man chuckled. "Hell, I've seen raccoons in rec rooms and bears in swimming pools. But this? You tell me."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, and a short silence followed as the sheriff waited for a further explanation. "Oh." Dean blinked in surprise and looked down at Alex for help, but the young hunter could only offer up a shrug. "Oh," he repeated. "Well, uh ... Where do we start?" He chuckled as he sent a sideways look at his brother. "What with, uh, logging."

"Ice caps," Sam added.

"Bitcoins," Dean finished. "Yeah." The sheriff's face twisted in skepticism, and the Winchester finished with, "Obama."

"You know what?" Sam jumped in before Dean could dig himself a deeper hole. "Maybe — maybe, uh, you could walk us through the attacks. Any similarities, anything weird?"

"Only thing weird about them was how similar they were." The sheriff turned away from Dean with a shrug, and his gaze dropped down to the folders on his desk. "Folks torn clean through. Hearts ... absent. Consumed, most likely," he added when Alex made a questioning noise.

"And there were no witnesses?"

The sheriff shook his head in response to Dean's question. "Well, the town square attack, the parking lot ... those were real late. But the bar? Hell, with how jammed the place was, you'd think somebody other than Tommy would've seen something."

Alex blinked, and Dean leaned forward slightly in interest. "And what did he see?" he pushed.

"Honestly, not much." The sheriff shrugged, clearly not fond of whatever the witness had told him. "Now, Tommy ain't exactly what we call a reliable witness. And he's telling anybody who'll listened he saw some girl go out back with Barker, and she got torn up, too."

"So there was a second victim." Alex's words sounded more like a statement than a question, and the sheriff's brown gaze hesitantly turned down onto her.

"Well, sure ... except Tommy's a drunk. There's no body, no DNA, no blood trail, no nothing to suggest that." He shook his head discouragingly. "You know how drunks are. Unreliable." A man walked up, silently handing the sheriff some paperwork, and Alex's lips pursed as the sheriff cleared his throat. "Excuse me one second."

"I've known drunks more reliable than you," she muttered under her breath as the man walked away, and once he was fully out of earshot, she turned to look up at the Winchesters. "So. Missing heart sounds pretty wolfy to me."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "But this is pretty brazen, even for a werewolf."

Dean nodded, his face set into a grim line. "You think it was the girl?" he asked, and Alex grunted out her concurrence.

"Let's go find out." Sam led the way out of the police station, and Alex followed close behind, casting a look over her shoulder at Dean on the way out. The Winchester seemed to be on his best behavior, but something in the gleam of his eyes had the angel hesitant about giving him her full trust on this hunt.

She glanced over at Sam, but the Winchester didn't meet her gaze as he slid into the Impala. With a small shake of her head, Alex did the same. "So, Tommy the town drunk, then. Did the papers say which bar he was at?"

"Panheads." Dean spoke up as he started the car. "Bike bar just off of Main Street. I've already looked into it a bit." Smugness lined his voice, and the Impala purred as he pulled out of the parking lot. "It's not far from here."

Alex reached down to pull her angel blade out from her duffle bag which lay wedged between the seats. "Luckily, werewolves are easily dealt with." The blade twisted in her hands with ease, and she pushed down the thin grace within her that rose at the touch of the warm metal. Her hand brushed her green jacket that lay beside her as she straightened up, and she jerked back at the bulk of the smooth glass vial of grace that still lay hidden within.

Dean chuckled at something Sam had said, and Alex turned her attention back onto the conversation. "It won't," he promised as the Impala rounded the corner, and after a beat, his voice grew serious. "It's under control, Sam. Ah." The car pulled into a parking lot, and the engine stopped as the Impala was turned off. "Here we are."

Alex stepped out of the car to eye the grungy bar with a frown. Motorcycles lined the front, their chrome fenders glinting in the sun. "This is it?" Her gaze turned to the side of the building, searching for the alley that had been the scene of the crime.

Neither Winchester answered, and Alex closed the car door. "Maybe I should take the lead on this one," she suggested over to the Winchesters, taking a moment to look the brothers up and down through the window of the car. "Unless you want to do the talking in those ridiculous uniforms."

Sam and Dean looked down at their outfits, and Dean's lips twisted into a small frown. "We'll meet you back here when you're done." The Impala started up again, and Alex gave them a small wave as the hunters disappeared back down the road.

She pushed her way into the Panhead, pupils dilating to take in as much of the dingy light as possible. "Hey." She approached the bar, fingers digging into her pockets to find her badge. "Agent Sykes. FBI." She held out the fake identification long enough for the bartender's eyes to grow wide before she shoved it back into her pocket. "I'm looking for a witness to a crime— Tommy. Is he here?"

From the way the dark-haired man's eyes flickered to the corner of the bar, Alex knew the answer long before his mouth opened to speak. "He's right there."

The young angel turned to follow his gaze to a ragged man at a small table. He was working through a large pint of beer, his gaze distant. "Thank you." Alex dipped her head as she stepped away, and she reached for her badge one more time as she approached the wooden table. "Tommy?" She waited for the man to look up before she held out her identification. "My name is Agent Brianna Sykes. I'm with the FBI. May I sit down?" Tommy gave an uncommitted nod, and Alex sank down into the metal chair. "You know why I'm here?"

"You're here about Barker." Tommy took a sip of his beer, and Alex nodded. "I told the cops what I saw. They didn't believe me."

His blue eyes hardened, ready to defend himself, and Alex held out a hand to calm him. "I know they didn't," she soothed. "But I'm not the cops. Tell me. How did you know the vic — Barker," she quickly corrected.

Tommy gave a half-hearted shrug. "Barker and I have been raising hell, chasing tail, and riding for a long time," he began. "Part of him always knew when his clock ran out, it wasn't gonna be pretty. To go out like that? By some animal?" He shook his head, gaze dropping to the table. "Just ain't right."

Alex nodded in silent agreement, and she folded her hands on the table in front of her. "So what, uh — do you mind telling me what you remember?"

"It was just another party, you know?" The man's calloused fingers drummed on the glass handle of his drink. "Barker went out back. The next thing you know, everyone's yelling and screaming, and he's all torn up."

"The sheriff mentioned that you had seen a girl." Alex leaned forward in curiosity. "He said you thought she was killed, too." Her head tipped as Tommy sharply shook his head, and her voice grew quiet. "You're afraid no one will believe you. But the things that I have seen — even I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't been there myself."

"Well, you don't live in this town," Tommy retorted, and Alex lips pursed together at the interruption. "You don't have to deal with the ridicule."

"All that I'm saying is that you may not be as crazy as everyone thinks." Tommy hesiated again, and Alex prompted, "Just assume that I will believe everything you say. Tell me what you saw."

"Okay. The other night, just after Barker ... I was taking a ride past the old Sturges farm. You know, thinking about the rides me and Barker used to go on. I-I saw her."

"Her?" Alex repeated. "Who? Saw who?"

"The — the girl. The one Barker left with. She was just standing there, all bloody, watching me. So — so I turned the hell around. I-I ran back, damn, you know, she — but ... but she was just gone. Like, gone."

"Like I ghost," Alex finished.

"Hell yeah." Tommy gave an ernest nod. "No, I don't give one red cent in hell what the cops say. She was there. She was eaten. She's a freaking ghost." Tommy swallowed the last of his drink, and Alex pushed herself to her feet with a nod. "You think I'm crazy."

"No, I don't." Alex pushed in her chair as she straightened her jacket. "Thank you for your time. You've been a lot of help." She dipped her head in thanks before she walked back out of the bar.

The Impala was there waiting, the engine a smooth rumble, and Alex slid into the backseat. "How'd it go?" Sam turned to look back at her, and Alex busied herself with unbuttoning the top button of her shirt before she replied.

"He confirmed that he saw a girl, same one that went out with Barker before he died, and the next night he saw her at Sturge's Farm covered in blood. Said she was there, but when he looked away for a second, she was suddenly gone. He's convinced that she is a ghost."

"Ghosts don't shred people like that," Dean reminded as he threw the car into drive, and Alex pulled her duffle bag up onto the seat next to her.

"Yeah, usually not," she agreed. "Or, at least they don't just go for the heart. So best bet is werewolf. Or the ghost of one," she added as a joke, but when neither Winchester gave any indication that they heard, she rolled her eyes and turned her attention down onto her phone.

The sun had disappeared far beyond the horizon by the time the Impala pulled up alongside the old, dilapidated farmhouse. Alex straightened her thick, grey jacket as she stepped out of the car, fingers curling inside her sleeves as her boots crunched against the thin layer of snow that covered the brown grass. She tucked her angel blade into the back of her jeans as Dean got out of the Impala, followed closely by Sam. "Silver?" she asked as Dean popped out the magazine of his pistol to check the ammunition, and the Winchester grunted in acknowledgement.

"If this Tommy says he saw the same girl a second time ..." Dean shook his head, his green eyes flashing in the thin moonlight. "It means this fleabag ain't done chowing down on Sons of Anarchy just yet."

"Guess she likes bad boys," Sam half-joked as he checked his own weapon, and Alex's attention moved across the farm, searching for any signs of life.

She heard Dean chuckle at his brother's quip. "Well, wait til she gets a load of us." He snapped the clip back into his gun before he pulled out his flashlight, and Alex let the thin strand of grace fall away from her eyes, letting her path be lit by the brother's light instead. She followed them down towards the barn as she drew her own gun from inside her jacket pocket. A wave of the pistol from Sam had her circling off around towards the back, her boots sinking loudly into the thin layer of snow. She kept low and moved as softly as she could, back pressed up against the rough wood of the barn to keep to the thin strip of bare grass. She could hear a person inside; a low, urgent female voice. It was drowned out by footsteps, and Alex whirled around to find Sam close behind. The Winchester held a finger up against his lips, and Alex stepped aside to let him take the lead.

"Stop ignoring my calls." The voice became clearer as they circled around the back of the barn. "Pick up the phone and call me right now. This isn't how it's supposed to go. Look, I've been —" Suddenly the woman stopped, and Alex slipped through the door, eyes widening in the dim light to watch as a shape looked up, head tipped back to scent the air as a growl rumbled through the darkness.

The woman made a mad dash for the door, and Alex broke into a run after her, her gun falling to her side as she sprinted across the barn. She heard a shout of surprise as the werewolf ran straight into Dean, and she slid to a stop at the Winchester's surprised, "What?" as he pinned the stranger against his chest.

An arm reached past her to spin the werewolf around, and Sam's flashlight illumined the blonde's face. "Kate?"

Alex looked between Sam and Dean, surprised by the look of recognition and disappointment. "Kate?" she repeated. "You know her?" Her eyes narrowed as she studied the young woman, and she added, "She's a werewolf."

"Yeah." Dean's lips were set in a tight line. "We know." His flashlight swept the room and landed on a coil of rope that lay in the corner, but his attention was immediately drawn back to Kate as the werewolf tried to bolt. "Whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean blocked her escape, and Sam's arms wrapped around the woman. "Not happening, Twilight. Alex." His head went up, chin jerking towards the rafters above their head, and the angel immediately understood.

Her gun dropped onto the moldy hay as she swung herself up onto a dilapidated wagon and from there up onto the rafters. The thin wood creaked beneath her weight, and Alex stretched out a hand to balance herself as Sam tossed her the coil of rope. "Why couldn't we just tie her up in a corner?" she muttered to herself as she secured the rope and swung herself back down. She landed silently, her complaint unheard, and she walked over to retriever her gun while the Winchesters secured Kate so her hands were secured up above her head.

"I know who you are." The werewolf's voice was sharp and defiant, and Alex took a moment to clear her weapon, feigning disinterest while Dean answered with a, "Congratulations," before he turned away. Kate blinked in surprise at the snark, and after a second she added, "After what happened at school, I thought you'd let me go."

"The hell you talking about?" Alex looked over at Sam, hoping for answers.

"You were with Ashiel." The dim light illuminated the young Winchester's sharp features as he shot Alex a quick look. "She was turned into a werewolf by her roommates. We let her go because she promised she could control it." His hazel eyes narrowed as he turned back to Kate. "Of course, that was before you started dropping bodies."

"What?"

"Guy at the bar saw you before you went all Wolverine on his buddy." Dean's voice was smug as he addressed the werewolf, and Alex tucked her gun into her jacket. "So ... surprise. Here we are."

"Kate, you said you were going straight." Disappointment lined Sam's voice as he turned to face the blonde. "What happened?"

"I ... guess things change." The werewolf's lips curled up into a snarl as she regarded the tall hunter. "Being this ..." Her anger faltered, and her gaze dropped to the ground. "I tried to be strong, but the hunger was too much. Too hard. It's not like anyone gave me a handbook on how to be a werewolf."

"Looks like you're doing a pretty good job so far," Dean retorted with a scoff. "Break a few hearts, then you eat 'em."

Kate's gaze swung over onto Dean. "I was on my own. I evolved."

"Evolved?" Alex's grey eyes flashed silver in the moonlight. "Is that what you call murdering innocent people?"

Her words were met with a silent snarl, teeth bared, but Kate faltered with a response, and eventually her gaze just dropped onto the ground. "Whatever you're gonna do, just ... just do it."

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance, and with a shrug, Dean reached back to pull out his pistol, the hammer back with a loud click, and at the same time, Alex reached back to draw her weapon. She watched as Dean lifted the muzzle of his gun, but Sam reached out, his large hand pushing the barrel back down. "Hey," he started, voice laced with concern. "You know what? Let me do it."

Dean's head snapped back in surprise. "Why?"

"Because ... because I think you should sit this one out." Sam's gaze turned onto Alex, eyes catching on her blade. "The both of you," he clarifed. "You're not ready to get back into this."

Alex scoffed loudly. "What? No way — you're not benching me, Sam." She jerked a thumb up towards Dean, adding, "He's the one who just got off the crazy train. Me? I'm fine."

Sam's phone rang, and the Winchester's lips set into a tight line as he moved to answer it, but before Alex could declare the argument over, Dean turned to look down at her. "Right. Because I was the only one who was off the reservation. I was a demon. What — what exactly is your excuse?"

"Oh, let's see." Alex's eyes rolled up into the back of her head as she feigned contemplation. "I had to babysit your sorry ass, and, oh yeah, the King of Hell had me under his fingernail. You remember that part, don't you? Or did the black eyes twist your memories, too?" She watched as Dean's eyes flashed with anger, and her fingers tightened around her weapon. "What are you going to do?" she taunted. "Come on, Dean. I told you, you're done pushing me around."

"Whoa, whoa." A hand shoved her backwards, and Alex stumbled back in surprise as Sam pushed his way in between them, his fingers splayed to keep them apart. "Hey! Cool it, alright? We've got a job to do. I just got a call from the sheriff. There's been another animal attack down at the high school. He says the body was still warm — no less than an hour dead. Same M.O. as the other three."

"So you don't think she did it." Dean's voice was flat, and Alex echoed his sentiment with a tight face.

"Look ..." Sam started, "I don't know, okay? But as far as I'm concerned —" The sound of a snapping rope and the scuffling of feet had him cutting off in surprise, and Alex spun around in time to watch Kate sprint out the door.

"Dammit!" Dean rushed past her, almost knocking Alex off balance, and the angel hissed out her frustration as she took a step after him. "Stop her!" The Winchester wheeled around, and Alex's eyebrows lifted in surprise at the hunter's command.

"How? I don't have wings, Whorechester. Sasquatch here is probably faster than me." Alex jerked a finger back towards Sam as Dean scowled at the nickname, but his attention was directed to something laying among the hay. "What's that?"

"It's her phone." Dean flipped it open, tucking his flashlight into his pocket as the screen lit up. "Let's see who she was booty calling when we pulled up." He pressed the phone against his ear as he listened, and Alex turned to look back at Sam.

"Okay, so if she's not the one who killing the bikers, then why didn't she try and deny it?" Alex glanced back towards the door through which the werewolf had disappeared, and she twisted her weapon in her hands as she paused to listen, cautious of any potential attacks.

"Maybe she's running with a pack?" Sam suggested with a shrug. "You know, trying to protect them?"

"Well, that's one hell of a price to pay. She was about two seconds away from taking a dirt nap." Dean shoved the red flip phone back into his pocket with a dark look. "Last phone call was to a room in the Lincoln Motel. That's got to be where she's heading."

"Great. Let's get going, then." Alex hurried back out towards the Impala, and a glance behind her showed that the two Winchesters were following. "So this definitely means we're dealing with more than one werewolf," she restated as Dean unlocked the car. "This day just keeps getting better and better, huh?"

Neither Winchester responded, and Alex slid into the backseat as the car purred to life. "So." Dean turned the car onto the road, and Alex tucked her gun into the top of her duffle bag. "What was that about me not being ready?"

"W-What?" Sam looked up sharply in surprise, and he glanced back at Alex; the angel offered no sign of support, her own eyebrow cocked in curiosity. "I'm — I wasn't — I wasn't trying to start something," he insisted. "I was just saying — I thought that was the whole point of us taking a break. You know?"

"Oh, no. No, yeah. I get that." Dean's fingers drummed lightly on the thin steering wheel. "And you know, there's no worries there. But, I gotta ask." His green eyes turned onto his brother, intensity hiding behind a mask of curiosity. "What about you? Are you ready?"

"What about me, what?" Sam's eyes stretched wide in surprise at his brother's question. "Why — why wouldn't I be ready?"

"Lester."

"Lester?" Even in the dark, Alex could see the confusion etched deep into the younger brother's face, and he reached up to run a hand through his hair as he shook his head in disbelief. "You're serious? This is about Lester?"

"Um, don't get me wrong," Dean was quick to defend, and Alex almost scoffed at how quick he was to back off around his brother after the near full-blown altercation in the barn. "I'm not — I'm not trying to start anything either, okay? I'm just saying ... maybe we oughta talk about that."

This time, Alex couldn't hold back a disgruntled snort, and Sam's lips pursed together tightly. "Okay, except there's nothing to talk about."

"Okay." Dean shrugged, and Sam echoed back his own pointed affirmation. Silence followed, broken only by the Impala's purr. "I just figured," Dean finally began again, "since we're opening up veins that maybe you'd want to talk about the guy who you made sell his soul."

"The guy who you then killed, right?" Sam's voice was ripe with indignation. "I mean, that's the same guy we're talking about?"

"I was a demon."

"What? You, a demon?" Alex scoffed loudly from the backseat, drawing both brother's attention onto her. "Oh, I totally forgot."

"Right." Their eyes met in the rearview mirror. "And what exactly is your excuse for killing his wife?" His words had Alex leaning forward, mouth opening to retort, but a quick, sharp look of warning from his brother had her snapping her jaw shut.

"Hey, hey." Once again, Sam was quick to cut in on their bickering. "What do you want from me, Dean? Look, I — I'm not happy about it, okay? But I needed to find you. The both of you." He looked back at Alex, and the angel's gaze dropped to her lap. "So if I had to ... to bend a few rules ..."

"Go dark."

"Go dark," Sam repeated. "Sure. Label it as you want."

"Look, man, again I'm not complaining, okay?" The Impala turned onto the highway with a roar, and Dean offered up half of a shrug. "In fact, I'm doing just the opposite of complaining. I just ... you know, between Lester and the others —"

"There weren't others!"

"Okay." Dean lifted his hands at Sam's defensive snap. "Either way, maybe we both needed the time off. Isn't that right, Pip?"

Alex frowned at the pointedness hidden his words, a unspoken and hesitant accusation, but she intentionally forced her voice to be light. "Totally. It's been nice not having to worry about being stabbed or shot or ripped to complete and utter shreds." She leaned back against the leather seats, adding, "So I'm guessing that we're spending the night on a stakeout at the Lincoln Motel — in the car, not in an actual room."

"Bingo." The Impala turned into town, and Alex slouched further down into her seat as music filled the cabin. She could feel Dean's anger still prickling at the air, a force almost matched by Sam's frustration, and she leaned her head back against the leather seat as her eyes slipped closed. If she was lucky, maybe she could grab some sleep before another passive aggressive confrontation arose.

Alex slumped down in the backseat of the Impala, temple pressed up against the glass as she kept watch on the stretch of doors that belonged to the Lincoln Motel. Dean sat in front of her, his attention equally enraptured, as they awaited Sam's return from the front desk. The parking lot was already empty despite the low, newly born sunrise, and the angel shifted uncomfortably on the leather as yet another car pulled past and disappeared down the road.

The unmistakable form of Sam Winchester appeared in the office doorway, and Alex straightened up, curious as to what the hunter had uncovered. "Alright." The car door opened and closed behind him as Sam slid into the passenger seat. "So the, uh, clerk says a blonde rolled up into room 3 just before sunup."

"She alone?"

"He thinks so," Sam agreed quietly, and Alex peered between the two brothers to count down to the third door. Her stolen grace bubbled up within her, but the angel firmly pressed it down even as her fingers closed around the cool glass of Crowley's vial. Realizing what she was doing, Alex yanked her hand away in disgust, and in her brief moment of distraction, Dean let out a curious noise.

"She's on the move." The car doors opened and shut, and Alex dropped the vial onto the floor of the car in surprise as she hurried after them. Her eyes scanned the parking lot, locking onto the small shape of a woman, her hood drawn up over her face. She was headed away from them, her hands shoved deep into her pockets, and Alex moved after Dean on silent feet.

"Where do you think she's going?" The angel kept her voice low as they trailed after the werewolf, and she reached back to draw up the hood of her own sweatshirt as she rolled down the sleeves of the overlaying jacket. She watched as the girl paused, head tipped back, and Alex instinctively did the same, nostrils flaring as she scented the air.

"Come on." A hand brushing across her shoulder had Alex glancing back in time to see Sam move past her. "She's heading towards the park."

Alex followed Sam and Dean across the street, hands deep in her pockets as they stepped onto the paved trails. A biker rode past, stirring up droplets of slush in his path, and Alex turned her head away to avoid the cold slurry. "This is why we should only work cases in the south during the winter," she muttered to herself, shaking off the cold, and she cast a look up towards the brothers in case either had heard.

They hadn't; their attention was focused on the path ahead of them, and Alex scanned the bikers and pedestrians before her gaze once more fell onto the hooded blonde. "What's she doing?" Sam asked as the werewolf turned down a dirt trail after a jogger, and Alex's eyes narrowed.

"Looking for breakfast." Dean quickened his pace, and Alex did the same, breaking into a half-jog to keep up with the brothers' long legs. Sam's hands came back to draw his gun, and Dean did the same as they turned the corner. "Kate!"

"It's over," Sam added, gun cocked, and Alex balled her fists at her side as the hooded woman spun around in surprise. Blue eyes stretched wide at the sight of them, and Alex's fingers uncurled slightly at the round, unknown face.

"Oh, God!" The small blonde's voice stuttered in fear at the sight of the brother's guns. "Please, don't. I'll give you anything you want."

Sam slowly lowered his gun, finger still poised on the trigger as he warily looked the strange woman up and down. "Where's Kate?" he demanded as Dean slowly uncocked his weapon, and Alex lifted her grace upwards defensively.

"You were just in her motel room," Dean added roughly when all they received was a terrified stare.

"W-What?" The woman looked over at Sam before her wide eyes fell down onto Alex, begging for help. "T-That's my room."

"Why were you following that guy?" Alex jerked her head back towards the path down which the jogger had disappeared, and the stranger's gaze snapped in that direction. "Test her."

"Robbie? I-I know him! I just wanted to surprise him —" The blonde's eyes stretched wide as Alex's words suddenly registered. "Test me?" she repeated. "Test me for what?" Dean stepped forward from Alex's side, tucking his gun back into his pants, and the flash of silver caught in the early morning light as he removed a knife from his jacket pocket. "No!" The stranger's foot slipped in the snow as she stepped back. "Help! Somebody help me!"

"Just take it easy," Dean warned, a hand stretching out to soothe her, and the blonde let out a quiet whimper.

"I don't want to die," she whispered, and Alex's eyes narrowed in confusion. She opened her mouth, ready to explain their intentions, but the stranger's eyes suddenly flashed yellow. Her lips curled up, white teeth sharpened into fangs, and Alex shied away instinctively as the werewolf lept at Dean. The weight of her attack knocked the Winchester off of his feet, and the two crashed into the snow. Nexto her, Sam suddenly hit the ground, thrown back as the werewolf launched herself at him next, and Alex flung herself forward as the woman's hands wrapped themselves around Sam's neck.

"Stop it!" A voice broke through their scuffle, and Alex hissed as claws dug through her cheek. "Stop it!" Suddenly the weight was pulled away, and the angel snarled in rage as she lashed out at the vanishing werewolf. "Don't!" Alex brushed the blood out of her face just in time to see their attacker running away, her retreat blocked by Kate. She stood in front of them, head held high in face of Dean's gun, cocked and loaded, and the angel pushed herself to her feet. "She's my sister!"

Dean rushed past, his actions knocking the werewolf off balance, and Kate turned to watch Dean go with wide, desperate eyes. "What do you mean sister?" Alex's demand had Kate turning back to face her, and Alex tried to stem the blood flow with a palm.

"What do you think it means?" Kate snapped. "Tasha is my sister."

"I lost her." Dean stalked back up to them, his face dark at his luck. His gun turned onto Kate, the hammer cocked as his frown deepened in anger. "Kate, why is your sister a werewolf, huh?"

"Hey, hey." Sam reached out to lower Dean's weapon. "Let her talk." Dean jerked his gun out of his brother's reach, and Sam's lips pursed. "Put the gun down."

"Why?" Dean retorted. "So she can run again? Nuh-uh."

"She just saved our lives." Sam's reply was quiet, and Dean's weapon wavered as he considered his brother's words. His gaze turned onto Kate, whose eyes were wide in a plea, and he reluctantly lowered his gun, muttering a curse beneath his breath as he reached down to brush sludge off of his jeans.

Kate's blue eyes flickered before her gaze turned onto Sam, but when she spoke, her voice was firm with conviction. "My sister is a werewolf because I turned her into one."

Alex watched as Dean's finger tightened on his gun, but he forced himself to keep it lowered. "Okay, this is the part where you help yourself out."

"I-I don't care, alright?" Kate shook her head. "I'm sick of the lies."

"Let me get this straight." Dean lifted up the back of his jacket as he tucked his weapon back into his jeans, his face a mixture of disgust and disappointment. "We let you run because we take pity on you, and you turn around and you start making pups? You start killing people?!"

"It's not like that!" Kate's voice rose to meet Dean's shout. "I'm no killer!"

"Well, the way I remember it from the snuff film you left us, is that you killed your boyfriend's best friend—"

"That's because Brian went crazy." The werewolf cut Dean off, hands on her hips, and the hunter's lips pursed together at the interruption. "I had no other choice."

"Okay, Kate ..." Sam started softly, "if all this wasn't you, then who was it? Your sister?" Kate hesitated, her mouth half open as she searched for a reply, and Sam pressed, "Did you sister do this, Kate?"

The werewolf gave no response, and Dean scoffed loudly. "Really?" he snapped. "You almost took a bullet for her, and you got nothing?"

Alex pulled away her hand, frowning down at the crimson blood that stained her fingers, and Sam loudly cleared his throat as a biker sped past. "Hey, guys? Can, we, uh, can we take this somewhere else? We need to clean Alex up, and she needs to get into some dry clothes." His hand came to rest on her shoulder, and Alex looked down at her appearance, eyebrows lifting in surprise to find her clothes wet with icy slush. A brush of wind cut through the trees, and she suppressed a sudden shiver.

"Oh, yeah, sure." Dean's green eyes flashed across her, but his voice still held a sarcastic undertone. "Let's go grab some coffee, maybe some bear hearts." He motioned back towards the path with his hand, indicating that Kate should walk where they could see her. "Let's party."

Twenty minutes later, Alex was curled up in the booth beside Sam, dressed in a thick grey sweatshirt and dry jeans. A cup of coffee was situated between her hands, its warmth tingling her fingertips. Dean and Kate were approaching the table with their own drinks, the Winchester's lips pursed together in displeasure as he sat down next to the werewolf. He set his drink onto the table as he glanced over at Alex, and the angel straightened up in her seat under his stare. Kate's fingers toyed nervously her mug as she looked between the two brothers, and, after a second of contemplation, she spoke. "Just so you know, Brian's the reason I carry this."

"Hey," Dean started as a warning as the werewolf reached around back, and Kate hesitated, her free hand coming up in a gesture of innocence.

"I'm just showing you something," she promised as she pulled free a small, silver dagger. The metal glowed in the light, and the werewolf twisted it so the hunters could see. "In case I ever lose it, like Brian did, you won't have to kill me."

Alex watched as Kate tucked the blade back away, and her grey eyes flickered over to Dean as the Winchester scoffed. "Yeah, well, saying it and doing it are two different things."

"I'm serious. And whether you believe me or not, I've never hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. And I have never, ever eaten a human heart."

Something in her words gave Alex pause, and her fingers drummed curiously on the side of her cup as she took a moment to study the werewolf; she looked like she was telling the truth. The quiet hum in Sam's chest confirmed that he was thinking the same thing. "Guess that explains all the dead chickens that I found back at the barn," he finally said.

Kate nodded. "I eat what I can find, what people won't miss, hopefully. Small game, deer. I meditate. Yoga helps." Her face darkened at Dean's snort, and she retorted, "You laugh, but ... I'll pretty much try anything to keep that side of me under control."

Dean's eyebrow remained cocked, but eventually he shrugged, set on humoring her. "Well, that is great, Kate. It really is. And it's nice to see that, uh, this hippie-dippie new age crap has had such a positive influence over your sister."

"Tasha ... she's a different story." The werewolf's chest heaved in a discouraging sigh. "After I left school, I was ... adrift. Lost. Not really sure where to go, what to do, so ... I went someplace safe. I went home. But ...even though I'd be good, I started to think about my family. How safe were they going to be? I was a werewolf. And then, of course, there was the two of you." Kate's gaze moved between Sam and Dean. "What if you two showed up and tried to kill me? I couldn't risk that."

Alex hummed out an agreement, and Kate's shoulders fell. "So ... I walked away. Never called, never wrote, just ... started a new life. Until one day, I saw a posting on my sister's Facebook page. Tasha had been in a really bad car accident. The doctors didn't think she was gonna make it. We were always so close, so ... I had to go say goodbye. Then it hit me." The werewolf's eyes flashed distantly at the memory. "This curse that I had, that had brought me nothing by pain and suffering, could actually finally maybe do something good."

"So you bit her."

For the briefest of moments, Kate's voice rose in indignation. "Turning Tasha into a werewolf, it would have healed her wounds, saved her life, given her a second chance. At first, I thought I'd failed, that ..." She shook her head as she trailed off, and silence fell for several seconds before she cleared her throat. "That even though werewolves heal quickly, that it was too late for Tasha. Then she woke up, not sick anymore, but okay. She had so many questions. It was a lot to swallow. But we had each other, and that felt like enough. Or ... or so I thought. My sister, she gave in to everything that I had warned her about. And ... and I knew, even if I couldn't bring myself to admit it then, I knew I was losing her."

Kate's gaze dropped down onto the table, and Sam's voice softened in sympathy. "So back at the barn, that was all just an act to protect Tasha?"

"She's family. And yeah, worth eating a bullet for." Her words were spoken towards the ground, not noticing how the Winchesters exchanged a glance over her head, and Alex's gaze fell onto her drink as the werewolf finally looked up. "And she needs me now more than ever. This is my mess. I gotta clean it up."

"Ad how do you plan on doing that, Kate?" Sam leaned forward as the werewolf's eyes hardened. "She hasn't listened to you yet. Why do you think she's going to start now?"

"I don't know, but ... I've gotta try." Tears glistened in Kate's eyes, but the woman firmly brushed them away. "Y-You know, we'll go out into the woods. We'll drop out for however long until she learns how to control this."

"Little late for team building, don't you think?"

Kate's attention snapped over to Dean, anger flaring up at the Winchester's quip. "So, what?" she challenged. "I just abandon her? I did this. I owe her every chance to make it right."

"What if she never does?" Sam persisted.

"Then I'll take care of it."

"You'll take care of it?" Dean repeated, and Alex scoffed out her own disbelief. "You know what that means?"

Kate's eyes narrowed as she met the Winchester's glare. "Why don't you ask Brian?" she stubbornly challenged.

Alex took a sip of her drink, ready for Dean to lash out with another cold retort, but the Winchester's face was a stony grimace. "Well," he admitted, "maybe it doesn't have to come to that. You know, if you had shot straight with us from the get-go, we might've been able to help you a lot sooner."

Alex blinked back her surprise, unsure what the Winchester meant, and her confusion was echoed on Kate's face. "What do you mean?"

"By curing you both."

Cure? Alex's lips twisted downwards in a frown, but she thought better than to question Dean's words. A look up to Sam showed the same form of disbelief, and the angel dropped her gaze to her lap before the werewolf noticed their shock. All of Kate's attention, however, was focused on Dean. "Shut up. There is no cure for werewolves."

"And for a long time, that was true, but we found one." Dean jerked his head over to his brother, and Sam's lips came together in a thin smile, neither confirming nor denying his brother's theory. "Now," Dean continued, "We've got everything we need on our end. Okay? But the clock is tickin', and we need one more thing. Tasha. Unless ... you want to do this without her?"

"N-No." Kate's voice lifted with eagerness. "It's a long drive, but ... I know where to find her."

"Great. Let's go." Dean stood up so the werewolf could slide out of her seat, and Alex and Sam followed their lead. Alex tucked her drink in the crook of her arm as she pushed open the door that led into the parking lot, but she chose to fall behind Sam and Dean as Kate climbed into the backseat.

Dean paused beside the trunk, moving to pull out his keys, and Sam stopped beside him. "Dude, what are you doing?" he hissed, careful to keep his voice low. "There is no cure."

"There's one." Dean drew back his jacket to reveal his silver knife, tucked carefully in his pocket, and Sam's lips pursed tightly together.

"Dean, I think everything is a little more complicated than that," Alex insisted, and Sam quickly voiced his agreement.

The angel lifted her chin as Dean's green eyes turned upon her. "Kate and Tasha are monsters, right? Last I checked, you and I both kill monsters. Unless that's changed?"

"Nothing's changed," Alex agreed slowly, "but come on. Killing Tasha I understand, but Kate ..." She cast the werewolf a glance through the window with a shake of her head. "I don't like it at all, but we've let monsters go for less. She's fighting to protect her sister, and you and Sam -- that's the sort of thing you two would do for each other in a heartbeat."

Dean scoffed. "Well, yeah, and that's worked wonders for us."

"Well, we're still here, aren't we?" Sam's face darkened at his brother's cynicism, and he crossed his arms across his chest.

"Yeah, but is it right?" Dean shook his head. "I mean, all that you've done for me, and I've still got this Mark."

"And we'll figure that out." Sam's gaze dropped down onto Dean's covered forearm, and the Winchester consciously moved to cover it up as Sam continued, "We always do. But you can't take whatever has happened to us or to you and — and dump it at these girls' feet."

"Alright, so, what? You want to nuance this thing?" Dean shrugged as he turned to face his brother fully. "Hit me. What's your plan?"

"I don't know." Sam slowly shook his head. "Just ... just give me some time to think."

"Hey." The Impala door opened, and Alex looked up as Kate peered out at them, her face tight with worry. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine." Alex brushed past the Winchester, breaking up their conversation as she moved to the other door. "Do you know where we're going?" Kate nodded, and Alex slid into the backseat. "Great. Then let's hit the road."

Voices broke through the blackness, low murmurs of indistinguishable words, and Alex stirred slightly. Her head was rested against something warm, something solid, and in the back of her mind, the angel knew that it was Sam. "Hey." A hand on her shoulder jerked her fully into consciousness, and Alex blinked open her eyes to see Dean shake Kate. "How are we doing?"

The werewolf jerked awake in the passenger seat, eyes stretching wide to adjust to the darkness, and she stared out the window for a second or two before she nodded. "We're getting close."

Alex tried to catch sight of a fleeting road sign, but the darkness hid the painted words. "So, what exactly is this spot?" she heard Dean ask.

"Ever since Tasha and I were little, we've been coming up to this cabin with our parents." The werewolf's gaze turned onto Alex when the angel made a questioning noise, her iris' glowing in the faint light. "When she became a wolf, we knew it was gonna be hard, so we kind of came up with this escape plan in case things ever got bad."

"So it's a rendezvous spot?"

"Pretty much." Kate's gaze turned out the window, and Alex watched as Dean shot his brother a look in the rearview mirror. "After seeing you three today, she should be there. Your turn is on the right."

Dean followed Kate's pointed finger, and the Impala turned down a dirt path. The headlights dimmed as they rolled up towards a wooden cabin, and Alex leaned forward to catch sight of a single light on in one of the windows. The headlights went completely out as Dean rolled the Impala up to the cabin, and Alex reached down to pick up her angel blade off of the Impala's floor. "Now what?" Sam asked as the engine died.

Kate's eyes were glued on the cabin, and when she spoke, her voice was quiet. "Maybe I should go in first, explain all this?"

"Good idea," Dean agreed, and Alex lifted her eyebrows in surprise at the Winchester's complacency. Kate nodded and threw open the car door, but suddenly Dean reached out and yanked her back. The click of handcuffs cut through the air as he fastened the metal lock around the werewolf's wrist, and Kate let out a cry of surprise as the other end was latched to the steering wheel.

"What are you doing?" she yelled, struggling angrily against the cuffs. "You son of a bitch!" Her eyes went wide as Dean's face tightened, and she looked back at Sam and Alex. "There is no cure, is there?" No one answered, and she turned back to Dean. "I trusted you. It's not her fault," she insisted. It's mine."

"She killed people."

"But she can be saved!" Tears welled up in the corner of Kate's eyes, and the werewolf's jaw trembled.

"No." Dean shook his head. "Tasha's in too deep. You don't ever come back from that, not ever." He threw open the car door and got out. "Come on, Sammy."

"No! Please!" Kate's voice followed them out of the car, and Alex closed the door behind her. "Don't do this! No, please! Don't!"

Her voice died away as Alex followed after Dean, muffled by the car's frame, and the angel twisted her weapon in her hand as they approached the front porch. The Winchesters drew their weapons as Alex opened the door, and she stepped aside to let them press on forward. They split up, each going a different direction, and after a second of thought, Alex followed after Sam. She watched as the hunter paused to look over an array of photos on the wooden mantle, and she brushed past him to peer into the kitchen. There was nothing to be found, and the angel drew up her weak grace defensively.

"Alex." Sam's murmur had the angel turning to face him, and Alex followed him across the room to a closed door. A bedroom lay inside, and on the bed sat a small blonde. A doll was held tightly in her hands, and Alex narrowed her eyes as she recognized Tasha.

The werewolf lifted her gaze, and Alex's grip tightened on her weapon. "I can't believe my own sister betrayed me." Tasha's voice was thick with venom, and Alex scoffed.

"Yeah, except ... she didn't." Sam's gun cocked at he stepped forward, weapon raised towards the monster, and Tasha set the doll back down onto the bed as she rose to her feet.

"You're not gonna shoot me," she stated, voice calm and confident, and Alex pursed her lips.

"And why is that?"

"Sam." Dean's voice came from behind them, and Alex spun around. The Winchester stood in the doorway, hands raised, and the angel's eyes zeroed in on the muzzle of a gun pressed up against the hunter's head. It was held by a tall stranger with pale yellow eyes, and Alex felt the corner of her lip turn up into a snarl of disgust.

"Drop the weapons, or Dreamboat here gets his mind blown." Tasha's voice grew dark as Alex turned back, and after a second, the angel let her weapon clatter to the ground.

"Don't do it!" Dean's anger had Sam hesitating, and Alex whipped her head to the side at the sound of the butt of a gun colliding with bone. Dean groaned loudly, falling onto the wooden floor, and Alex clenched her fists at her side.

"Well ... Sammy?" The werewolf's deriding tone had Sam's confidence wavering, and after a second, he slowly placed his weapon down onto the ground. Tasha kicked it aside, sending the gun skittering across the room, and Alex stepped closer to Sam at the sound of two sets of approaching footsteps.

A stranger appeared in the doorway, dragging a disgruntled Kate at his side. The werewolf's eyes stretched at the sight of the gun against Dean's head, and her gaze swung over to her sister. "Tasha! What did — who are these people?"

"Brandon. Travis." Tasha nodded to the two young men in the room, a dark smile on her lips. "I turned them. They're our new family."

"Yeah, you're a regular psycho Brady Bunch," Dean grunted from where he lay on the floor, cradling his head, and Alex's grace roiled angrily as one of the werewolves lunged at Dean, teeth bared in a warning.

"Hey!" Sam rushed forward, ready to protect his brother, but Tasha was faster. Alex jumped backwards as Sam was flung across the room, landing on the large bed with a winded grunt. Tasha followed him, straddling the Winchester as her hands wrapped themselves around his throat.

Alex threw herself forward to tackle the blonde off of Sam, but a gunshot had her twisting to the ground in pain. She hit the floor as the bullet embedded itself in the wall behind her, having just barely nicked her ribs, but the shock of the wound was enough to cause her to gasp. "Tasha!" she heard Kate yell out her sister's name in a plea. "We can talk about this."

Sam gasped for breath as Tasha let go of his neck, turning to face her sister. "They were gonna kill me," she snapped. "And now you're protecting them?"

"I'm protecting you," Kate insisted.

"Yeah. I'm good. Thanks." Tasha's voice was scathing as Alex pushed herself to her feet, gripping her bleeding side. Neither noticed, their attention completely focused on each other, and after a second Tasha added, "So here's how it's gonna be. You can walk away, or you can join my pack."

"I'm not walking away." Kate shrugged off the man that was holding her, and Tasha's lips curled into a smile.

"Then prove you got what it takes," she challenged, and she glanced over her shoulder at Sam. "Eat his heart out."

"No." Alex positioned herself between the werewolves and Sam, one hand stretched out while the other stemmed the the blood from her side. "You want to get to Sam, you go through me."

Tasha's eyes flashed yellow, accepting the challenge, but Kate shook her head. "No," she insisted.

"Fine." Tasha pointed at Dean, and then Sam and Alex in turn. "Take them," she ordered Brandon and Travis. "Have some fun. Oh, and I want a heart to-go. Put it in a doggie bag."

"That was painful," Alex spat as one of the werewolves shoved her and Sam towards the door. "I hope you die for that joke—" She cut off when a shove from her captor almost had her stumbling, and she followed the Winchester out into the living room.

"On your knees!" Fists flashed through the air, and Sam and Dean fell to the floor with grunts of pain and surprise. A hand wrapped around her wrist to drag her away, and Alex struggled to pull herself free. Her grace boiled inside of her, and the angel grabbed the werewolf's forearm as her grace poured forth. It spluttered and died within seconds, curling back inside of her chest, but the contact was long enough for the monster to howl in pain and rip himself free of her hold. A handprint was burned into his skin, the flesh an angry red color, and Alex only had a moment to enjoy the sight before the second man kicked her legs out from under her.

Her shoulder hit the ground with a resounding thud, and Alex rolled onto her back, gripping her wounded side with a muffled groan. "You okay?" she heard Sam whisper, and the angel grit her teeth as she nodded. "These guys, huh?" he scoffed when Alex pushed herself up into a sitting position. "Can you believe 'em?"

"Yeah, a couple of minor leaguers," Dean agreed mockingly. Alex grunted again as she looked up to meet the werewolves' gazes.

"You're dead," one spat, rubbing at the burn on his arm. "You don't get to talk In fact —" He cut off in surprise as Sam lunged upwards. Silver flashed through the air as the blade embedded itself into the monster's stomach. Dean followed close behind, throwing himself at the other, but the half-second of hesitation was enough time for the werewolf to react. He deflected the blow, but wasn't fast enough for Alex's own attack. She barrelled into him, and the impact sent the two of them crashing to the ground. Sam was there, ready to bury the knife into the monster's chest, and Alex pushed herself to her feet.

"Welcome to the majors, boys." Dean sheathed his knife into his jacket, and Alex brushed past him to throw her weight against the bedroom door. The door opened easily, and the angel skidded to the stop at the sight of a body lying on the floor.

Blood pooled around the stomach, and Alex's gaze traced the bloody abdomen before it lifted to the werewolf's face. "Tasha's dead." She spoke loud enough for the Winchesters to hear from where they stood in the doorway, and she knelt down to pick up her weapon as Sam brushed past her.

"Kate must have fled out the window," he added, hunching over to stick his head out into the night. "Dammit. There's no way we'll find her. Not in this darkness."

"Dammit," Dean echoed, and Alex stepped aside to let him have a look at Tasha's body. "And she left us with all the heavy lifting." He nudged at the corpse with his foot in disgust. "What do you say we just torch the place, huh?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever." Sam's voice sounded distracted as he moved out of the room, and Dean shrugged over at Alex. The angel mimicked him before she turned and followed Sam. "Hey." The Winchester's face was tight as he looked down at Alex's side, and Alex shifted so the hunter couldn't see. "How are you doing?"

"Fine. My grace is healing it." The lie came out easily, and Alex held Sam's gaze until he looked away. "Don't worry. It just barely grazed me. Where do you think Kate went?"

"Who knows." Dean appeared behind them, a lighter in his hands. "Hey, Sammy, help me get those goons into the bedroom, huh? I don't have enough juice to torch this whole place." Sam nodded, and Alex turned to help, but Dean stopped her with a raised hand. "Hold up, sport. You're not doing any heavy lifting with that." He pointed down to her side, and Alex's lips tightened angrily. "Go get the gas can from the trunk, would ya?"

"I'm fine," Alex repeated angrily, and she let her hand fall away from the wound. "My grace —"

"Is doing shit," Dean finished, and his voice hardened in authority. "You can barely stand up straight. Go. We'll take care of it."

His voice left no room for question, and Alex stomped out of the cabin, teeth grit against the sharpness in her side. Only when she was out of the Winchesters' sight did she finally reach back up to clench at the bloody skin, gasping as she finally let the pain show. "Fuck." Her fingers carefully probed the tear, slick with half-drying blood. The thin netting of grace surrounded it, healing the capillaries from within, but each jarring step tore open the newly closed vessels.

Alex sunk down in the grass beside the Impala, forcing herself to breathe shallowly in the hopes that the stillness would let the healing progress, but the flesh closed agonisingly slow. The wound wasn't deep — hardly life-threatening — and the angel paused for a moment, half-tempted to simply let Sam tend to it. Her grace wasn't strong enough; even if she managed to stay still, it would burn itself out in the process. Her gaze tuned back to the cabin, where the shadows of Sam and Dean could be seen in the lamplight, and her face colored at the possible consequences. The Winchesters thought she was weak as it was; letting Sam care for such a benign wound would only further than idea. No.

Alex pushed herself to her feet, teeth clenched in pain and anger. She wasn't helpless, and she wasn't frail. She pulled open the car door and leaned inside, fingers closing around the small vial that lay on the floor. Blue smoke swirled inside, pulsing and glowing with life, and the angel roughly pulled the stopper free. The grace rose forth, twisting and dancing like a charmed snake, and Alex closed her eyes as she parted her lips.

Warmth spilled through her limbs as the grace rushed inwards, and a shiver passed through the angel as it flooded forth, flowing through her veins. It swept over the wound, the flesh repairing beneath the tidal wave of life, and Alex felt her eyes glow blue before she reluctantly reined it back in. Her hand reached down to touch her side, fingernails dragging over the skin, now baby soft.

"Hey. Pip." The sound of Dean's voice had Alex turning around, and her eyes darted to the bedroom window, now flickering with flames. "We're ready to head out. You good?"

"Of course I'm good." Alex let her hand fall away from her side with a curt nod. "I told you, Dean. My grace would heal it."

Dean let out a noncommittal grunt, his green eyes catching in the rising flames, but he finally gave a nod. "Good. Let's get out of here." He brushed past her and slid into the car, and Alex stepped aside so Sam could do the same. Her fingers released the vial, now cold and empty, and it fell into the damp grass as she stepped into the Impala. The engine purred, and the car sped off into the darkness.