Okie dokie welcome back! Here's the first chapter, and I'll be posting three or so times a week.

Enjoy :)

...

October 4th, 2013

St. Paul, Minnesota

The thin curtains fluttered as a soft breeze drifted through the open window, through which the early morning light dappled the paisley carpet littered with brightly colored plastic toys and blankets. The motel room was quiet, with only the low whir of the refrigerator as any form of noise. Outside, two light sets of footsteps could be heard, and two seconds later they paused, their shadows darkening the crack under the door.

The wooden door clicked and swung open, and an angel stepped through, grace flicking on the incandescent lights. A child stood at her side, one hand tightly grasped in her own. The angel's face twisted into a deep frown as she surveyed the clutter, but a small tug had her looking away. "What is it?" Alex looked down at the child, and it pulled eagerly at her black shirt.

"Mama." The fledgling pointed upwards at her face, small grey wings flapping clumsily but with as much eagerness as they could hold.

Alex shook her head, knowing exactly what he meant. "You know we can't fly when we go to the store, Ashiel," she chastised gently, pulling herself free from his tiny grasp before she turned and shut the door.

Ashiel frowned at her words, but his sorrows were short-lived. He turned and tottered further into the room, and Alex watched as he settled down on the floor among his toy blocks.

They had been on their own for over a year now, just the two of them. Alex's wings twitched as her thoughts turned to the Winchesters. It had been a long time since she had thought about her friends, and she felt her heart twist in long-suffered grief. Over a year without Dean and Castiel, but at the same time she could have sworn it was only yesterday.

"Mama." Ashiel pulled himself to his feet, small, downy wings going out to steady himself. They were far too small for him to fly, and deep down inside Alex knew they would remain that way for a long time to come.

"Yeah?" she asked, curling her darker, sleeker wings towards the fledgling. "What is it?"

In response, Ashiel pointed to something behind her head, and Alex turned to see the kitchen cabinet. "Cacka," the child stated, and Alex heard the soft clasping of fingers as the fledgling made a grabbing motion with his hands.

"It is almost time for our morning cracker," the angel agreed. She turned around and pulled open the wooden cabinet doors, and she couldn't help but overhear the excited squeal the fledgling made as she set the box of crackers down on the countertop. "Okay, Ash. How many do you want?"

The fledgling was at her side in an instant, chubby fingers gripping the countertop as he peered up at the box. "Cacka," he insisted enthusiastically, wings beating in excitement.

"How many crackers do you want?" Alex repeated, opening the box and pulling out the plastic bag within. When there was no response, she looked down to see Ashiel holding up all ten fingers. "Ten?" she asked, voice lined with playful incredulity. "You think you can eat ten whole crackers?"

"Yeah!"

"I don't know. Let's start with three, okay?" Alex held out three square crackers, and the fledgling eagerly took them and stuffed one in his mouth. He turned away and walked back over to his toys, and Alex shook her head. She didn't know if fledglings were suppose to eat — it made sense, seeing as that was the only way for their bodies to get the nutrition it needed to grow, but either way, it didn't matter — Ashiel loved food. Were human children supposed to eat as much as him?

She handed another two crackers to the fledgling as he hurried back for more, shaking her head in disbelief. "Slow down, buddy. Don't eat so fast."

"Don't be hard on him. He is a growing boy." A voice had Alex turning, and the angel shook her head with a roll of her eyes. Ezekiel stood by the door, dark wings folding in.

"Aja!" Ashiel sprung to his feet, his small wings flying out in excitement. Blue eyes went wide as he stuffed his last cracker into his mouth, and crumbs fell to the floor as the fledgling's mouth twisted into a wide, toothy grin.

Alex quickly stretched out a wing to keep the fledgling from charging at the seraph in front of her. "Sorry, he can be a bit over-eager sometimes," she apologized, reaching down to run a hand through Ashiel's beach-blonde hair. "Sometimes I think he has no fear," she added with a teasing smile down at the toddler.

Ashiel slipped under her wings and ran up to the seraph. "Anja!" he repeated, and his fingers gripped Ezekiel's dark grey feathers.

The seraph gently arched his wings out of the fledgling's reach. "Boys will be boys. Angels aren't naturally endowed with much fear, after all. We have no natural enemies." He looked down as Ashiel let out a small whine, hands grasping in the air, and slowly lowered one wing so the child could examine his feathers as he excitedly repeated his latest word.

"We're still working on the word 'angel.' " Alex moved forward and scooped Ashiel up into her arms, and he immediately set about toying with her blonde ponytail, his chubby fingers parting her hair into uneven clumps. "He seems to be picking up English pretty well." Before the seraph could respond she asked, "So. Have … have you found anything?"

Ezekiel shook his head. "There's still no news on the fledgling's father," he explained quietly. "No one has come forward to claim him, nor has any angel reported their mate as lost. I'm sorry."

Alex looked away. "It's not your fault," she murmured. "You've done everything you can." With a push of her wings she was standing by the bed, and she set Ashiel down before she moved back over to Ezekiel. "It's been over a year," she added in a soft voice. "Maybe . . . maybe he doesn't want to be found."

The seraph in front of her didn't respond, and Alex watched as his wings twitched sympathetically. "Then what shall we do?" he finally questioned, gaze sliding over to the fledgling who was now preoccupied with getting himself off of the bed. "Perhaps it is time you consider that you may have to care for Ashiel in a more permanent manner."

Alex felt her shoulders drop slightly, and she turned to look back down at the fledgling. He had given up on dismounting the bed, the drop apparently too far for him, and was now standing up, arms outstretched as he let out a high-pitched noise of frustration. "Up!" he insisted, hands grasping at thin air.

"Alright." Alex walked over and picked the child up, settling him on her hip as she turned back to Ezekiel. "I don't think that's a wise idea," she admitted. "It's not safe down here on Earth — you know as well as I do what's out there. Besides, he needs a real family." She wound her grace around the fledgling's, and he giggled at the feeling. "If Cas were here . . . then maybe. But he deserves better than just me."

The seraph frowned, but decided to hold his tongue. "I can look to see if there's an angel who is willing to take him in," he said instead. "If you feel that's what you want."

Alex gave a small, reluctant nod, and her eyes fell onto the fledgling that clung tightly to her side. He was so fragile, so innocent … what could she possibly offer him? She could barely provide security, let alone a family, friends, education ... "Yeah," she murmured. "I feel that's what's best."

...

August 10th, 2012

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Thunder cracked through the sky as Alex dove through the trees, eyes desperately scanning the houses that lined the streets below. It had to be around here somewhere. Why did everything look so different from above? The angel's wings ached, and the muscles in her back burned, but Alex kept going, arms tightly clutching the baby closer and closer — there.

The angel dropped to the ground, feet stumbling as she landed unevenly on the concrete walkway. She brushed her wet hair out of her face as she hurried up to stand on the front step, and only there did Alex hesitate. Her wings flittered nervously at what lay ahead of her, but the restless and soaked fledgling in her arms forced her to put her fears aside and reach up to ring the doorbell.

She heard the low, irate grumbling through the door seconds before it unlocked with click, opening to reveal a tired and disheveled Jody Mills. "Whatever you want, I — Alex?" The sheriff cut off as she recognized her visitor, and she stared down at the angel, mouth hanging agape at the sight before her. "What the hell?"

"C-C-Can I come in?"

"You're soaked!" Mills continued, and her eyes widened in shock. "And you're bleeding!"

Bleeding? Alex blinked in confusion, and her hand went up to her chin; when she pulled it away there was blood, pale and diluted with the rain. It dripped from her hand onto the porch below, and she looked down to see a large, dark stain on the front of her shirt. Her face flushed, both in shock of her wound and embarrassment to be found bleeding on the sheriff's doorstep. "I-I-I don't — can we come in?" she repeated as she gripped the fledgling tighter.

" 'We?' — of course." Jody Mills eyes dropped down to the child in her arms, surprise and shock lighting up her face as all signs of her exhaustion disappeared. She jumped backwards, giving Alex room to step inside. The fledgling whimpered as they entered the dimly lit house, eyes screwing up in a heart-breaking wail, and Alex wrapped her grace even tighter around him. The sheriff closed the door behind them, eyes wide. "What's going on?" she demanded as she turned on the lights, bathing the two young angels in a soft yellow glow. "Actually, no, wait — let me get you both a towel."

Alex shifted nervously as the woman hurried deeper into the house, and she took a second to look down at the child in her arms. Bright blue eyes were hidden behind tears, and his thin, bleach-blonde hair was plastered to his scalp. Chubby fingers were curled into her shirt, and his now-soaked wings were curled tightly around him as he sought to protect himself from the cold. The angel gently focused on drying him with her grace, but the sheriff was back at her side within seconds. "Thank you," Alex murmured.

"Let me take him for you." Jody gently took the fledgling from Alex, and the young angel watched as she wrapped him in another, darker towel. "Who is he? Is . . . is he yours?"

"W-What? No. I —" Alex shook her head, sighing as her gaze flickered to the soft carpet underfoot. "It's a long story."

...

Alex ran her fingers over the patterns on the thin motel carpet as Ashiel moved about in excited and nonsensical circles, a small stuffed dog tightly gripped in his chubby hands. His small wings flapped wildly behind him as he let out a playful screech, and Alex laughed as he threw himself down onto one of the pillows beside her. "Are you getting tired?" she half-teased as he rolled off of it and onto the floor. "It's getting to be past your nap-time."

Ashiel shook his head as he sat up, but he was betrayed by a large yawn. Alex clicked her tongue in disbelief and rose to her feet, bending over as she reached out to pick him up. "I think it's time for your nap," she decided.

The fledgling wriggled free of her hold. "No!" he cried, face growing red as tears filled his eyes. His wings pulled in tight as he let out a high-pitched wail, struggling to his feet as he sobbed out his protest.

Alex rolled her eyes, unperturbed by the child's fuss. "Ashiel," she repeated, voice taking on a note of parental sternness. "It's time for your nap." She stepped forward, but the fledgling ran away, arms flailing as he screamed in frustrated objection. Alex huffed in annoyance, sinking back onto the floor with a shake of her head. Great.

She watched as the child cried and screamed, and only when it seemed to die off did she sigh and dare to speak again. "Ash, come here."

The fledgling screamed out his answer, and the angel reached out with her grace, wrapping it around him and nudging him forward. The touch seemed to calm the child down, and he sniffled, moving, albeit reluctantly, towards her. "No nap," he whimpered, the back of his hand going up wipe at his dripping nose.

"Why not? Are you not tired?" Alex guessed, and she stretched one wing forward to brush against the fledgling as he shook his head. "You need to use your words, acaro agi." She pulled the sleeve of her own shirt down over her fist and reached out to wipe away the rest of the tears.

Acaro agi. Young one. The fledgling sniffled again at the Enochian phrase. "N-No nap," he repeated, pointing towards his blocks on the floor. "I-I —"

"You want to play with your blocks?" Alex looked over at the clock on the wall before she nodded. "If you ask nicely, I'll let you play for another few minutes, okay?"

Ashiel rubbed his tearful eyes with the back of his hands. "P-Peas?"

"Okay. A few more minutes." Alex stood up as Ashiel walked back over to his blocks, shaking her head. Thirteen months, and she was finally understanding the fledgling. She wandered over to the window and pulled back the thin curtain to peer out into the empty street. Pines towered over the pavement, casting their heavy shadows onto the road below, but the summer sun was persistent, climbing ever higher into the blue, cloudless sky.

Something tugged at the back of her mind, but the angel pushed it away. She knew the feeling, and she knew it well; someone was praying to her — Sam Winchester, no doubt; he was the only one left who knew to pray, but it didn't matter. She was done with him. She was done with the Winchesters, done with that life

She felt Lucifer's grace stir slightly within, shifting within its self-made nest, and she instinctively gave it a gentle prod, but it remained curled up sullenly within her stomach. She hadn't slept since she had found Ashiel that fateful night, and while Lucifer's grace had been agitated for months, it had finally calmed, retreating to where it now lay dormant inside her. Alex wasn't sure how he would react if she finally ventured back into her dreams, and to be honest, she didn't want to find out.

She turned back when she heard Ashiel let out a cranky sob, and she shook her head. "I told you it was time for your nap," she muttered under her breath as she crossed the room and scooped the fledgling up. "Come on, Ash. Let's go to bed."

She felt the fledgling let out a whine, but he rubbed his face into the crook of her shoulder when she soothingly rubbed at his back. She rested a gentle hand on his head as she laid him down on the far bed, and the fledgling wiggled on the mattress until Alex pulled the thin blanket over him. "Quiet," she hushed, tucking the edges of the blanket in around his body.

She waited at his side until the fledgling's breathing slowed, her hands gently rubbing small circles into his tiny back. It was only when Ashiel had fallen fast asleep did she move away. She felt the tugging in her mind again as she crossed the room, and she paused beside the fridge, head tipping in confusion. She hadn't felt a prayer in months; why were they starting up again now?

Part of her was curious, and she was tempted to pull away the wall she had built up within her mind, but the stronger part of her still refused; it wasn't her business anymore. Sam could fend for himself. Ashiel could not.

The tugging moved to her gut, stronger and more insistent, and the angel's wings twitched nervously at the pins and needles within her grace. She looked over her shoulder, but Ashiel remained fast asleep, undisturbed by whatever was affecting her. Alex shifted uncomfortably as the feeling grew, worming its way through her grace and anchoring itself with barbed hooks. And in the next second, the motel room was gone.

Alex looked around in surprise, wings flaring out in alarm as she stood facing a new, dark wall. Her grace flicked out instinctively, taking in her surroundings, and the angel froze at what she felt. Slowly, she turned, feathers ruffling in disbelief. "D-Dean?"

Dean Winchester stood in front of a table, a matchbox in his hand and a smouldering bowl on the table. "Heya, Pip. Long time no see."

"Clearly." The angel looked disdainfully down at the spell, and she shook out her wings so her feathers would lay flat as she folded them against her back. "Angel summoning? Really, Winchester."

"Yeah, well, when praying didn't work, we moved on to something else." The hunter's words were crisp and slightly cold, and Alex huffed at his tone. Her eyes narrowed accusingly, but Dean made no effort to apologize for his manner.

"We thought you were dead," another voice added, and the angel turned to see Sam standing over by the door. His face was far less stern, and Alex could see distinct lines of worry set into his brow. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Busy." Alex turned back to Dean. "And I could ask you the same question." Anger flared up within her, and she stepped forward, eyes flashing. "What the hell, Dean! Where were you? I thought you were dead."

"Purgatory." The Winchester didn't back down, and his arms folded across his chest. "Apparently standing too close to an exploding Dick sends your ass straight there."

"A-And Cas?" Alex looked around, eyes wide, but there was no sign of her angel. A bright flash of hope stirred in her stomach, and her heart started to race in anticipation. "Where is he? He's with you, right?" She turned back to Dean when there was no immediate response. "Dean?"

"Cas didn't make it." Dean's words were sharp and harsh, and the angel's wings drew in tightly against her back as a tremble passed through her. "He's gone."

"He — he's dead?" Alex looked over her shoulder at Sam, looking for some last straw of hope that this was some form of a cruel joke, but when she found nothing but hidden sympathy, she turn her head back to Dean. "A-Are you sure? You're alive. Couldn't he be —"

"He's not." The Winchester roughly cut her off. "I saw enough. And it doesn't matter either way. He can't get back. Not any more."

Alex rolled her shoulders back, chin raised as she met Dean's gaze. "Why am I here?" she demanded, nostrils flaring out as she let out a frustrated breath. "I have more important places to be."

"Right," Dean scoffed, something akin to dry humor sparking in his eyes. "Let me guess. You hit a dog, too?"

"What?" The angel narrowed her eyes in confusion, and her head tilted as she got the distinct feeling there was something that she was missing. "What the hell are you talking about?" She looked back at Sam. "What's he talking about?"

"It's not important." Sam cast his brother a dark glance from across the room, and Alex turned back to Dean. There was definitely something she was missing.

She crossed her arms, feathers ruffling in distaste at the cool treatment she was receiving. "Why am I here?" she repeated one last time.

"We need your help." Sam stepped forward before Dean could respond, and Alex swung her gaze back over to him. She watched as the Winchester blinked, taken aback by her glare, and the angel let her face soften; Sam hadn't done anything to her. Her silence prompted Sam, and he continued. "Kevin and Mrs. Tran are in the other room."

"Yeah, no thanks to you," Dean added scathingly, and Alex let her wings flare out, grace sparking through the room in unconfined frustration. The lights flickered, and Sam held out his hand to quiet his brother.

"Kevin found the demon tablet," Sam explained quietly. "It has a spell that can close the gates of hell. Forever."

"Mm." Alex refused to let her surprise show, instead aiming for calm disinterest. "And let me guess. You need something from an angel. Blood? Feathers? What?" Alex looked over at the window. "I really need to be getting back. I shouldn't be gone."

"Not quite," Dean started, but Sam cut him off. The hunter fell silent with a huff.

"Plutus stole the tablet," Sam told her. "Apparently he's going to — to auction it off to the highest bidder." He held out a small, pale blue card. "Kevin was invited, and we're going with him."

"Hm." Alex plucked the card from the Winchester's hand, turning it to read the black ink scrawled on the back. "A strict 'leave your weapons at the door' policy, huh?" She looked up. "Okay. So what do you need me for?"

"We need to get Kevin in so he can memorize the tablet," Sam explained. "We want you to come with."

"A little extra muscle couldn't hurt, right?" Dean added. "I mean —"

"I can't." Alex handed the invitation back to Sam with a shake of her head. "You're going to have to figure this one out on your own."

She flared her wings, turning to go, but Dean's voice stopped her. "You leave and we're just gonna summon you right back again," he warned, and even though Alex knew it was a bluff, it was still enough to give her pause. "What's so important that you can't help family?" the Winchester challenged, and Alex winced. "What happened to you?"

"I lost you," she snapped, spinning around. "I lost you, and I lost Cas, and I couldn't take it. You promised me, Dean. You promised that it would be me, but I was still the one left behind. I didn't think you were coming back, and I moved on. A-And I can't just drop everything and come running back! Who's going to take care of Ashiel, huh?" She snatched the invite back out of Sam's hands. "This auction's in seven hours. That's really short notice, Dean!"

"Who's Ashiel?"

"What?" Alex spun on Sam.

"You said 'Ashiel,' " Sam repeated, taken aback by her intensity. "Who's he? Is — Is he your, uh, your mate?"

"What? No." Alex snorted in half-amusement at the mere suggestion. "Castiel is my mate, Sam. Ashiel, he … he's my son. Sort of." She looked down at the dull, merle carpeting as she added, "It's a long story."

...

Alex watched as Jody Mills paced in front of the couch, the fledgling held tight in the sheriff's arms. The room was silent, and the angel felt her wings twitch nervously as she waited for a reply.

"So Dean and Castiel are gone," the sheriff finally recapped, and Alex nodded in agreement. "And you ran away, and that's where you found this little guy."

"In the woods off of a highway," the angel agreed. "Yeah. I . . . had to stop because I couldn't fly any further. I saw a flash of light and heard a scream, and that's when I found him. His mother is dead."

The fledgling shifted in Jody's arms, and the woman looked down. "Well it's a good thing you came here," she eventually said. "You're always welcome to stay the night."

"Uh, thanks." Alex pulled the towel away from her chin, thankful to find that the bleeding had stopped. "I just — I know nothing about kids. I didn't know what else to do."

"You came to the right place." The fledgling started to cry, and Jody turned her attention away from Alex. "Shh shh shhh," she comforted. "Everything's okay." She looked back up at Alex. "I'm going to see if there's something for him to eat," she told the angel.

"Okay. I, uh — I should inform heaven about his mother." Alex stood and took three steps towards the stairs. There she paused, one hand on the wooden banister. "Jody? Don't tell Sam that I'm here. He's better off not knowing."

...

Alex pulled her wings in tight as she fell from the sky, plummeting down through the motel ceiling until she slowed to a stop at the last second, wings flaring out to bring her to a halt, unharmed. Her feet gingerly came to rest on the soft carpet, and Alex crossed the room, eyes focused on the small, blanketed shape on the far bed. Her grace relieved her fears, and she reached out to draw back the blankets.

Ashiel lay there, still asleep, and the angel let out a deep sigh. She curled her grace around him, and she felt his unconsciously reciprocate, wrapping itself in hers.

After a few seconds Alex pulled away. She returned the thin, white blanket to rest across the child's shoulders as she stood up and walked to the far side of the room. The sharp stab of paper poked at her hip, and the angel reached into her pocket to retrieve the invitation Sam had given her. How could the Winchesters expect her to go? The angel looked back over at the fledgling curled upon the bed, and her wings drooped as she remembered Dean's words. What's more important than family?

"Ash is my family," she said aloud, but the sound of her voice wasn't as confident as she had hoped. Just this morning you were talking about giving him away.

The card fluttered to the ground, and the angel stooped to pick it up. It couldn't hurt, right? She could get Ezekiel to watch Ashiel for the afternoon, and it would be nice . . . it would be nice to see the Winchesters one last time. Alex ran a hand through her blonde hair before she pinched the bridge of her nose, indecision battling within her.

"Mama." A soft tug on her t-shirt had the angel looking up in surprise. "Mama," Ashiel repeated, stretching up on his tiptoes, hands outstretched.

Alex pulled the child up into her arms. "How was your nap?" she asked, running a soothing hand over his head. "Did you miss me?"

The fledgling let out a string of incoherent syllables, but the grin on his face was explanation enough.

Alex set him back down beside the table and pinned the card up upon the fridge. "There," she began, turning to the cupboard. "You wouldn't mind if I took a little trip, would you? I won't be gone long, and Uncle Zeke might be able to watch you." She looked down at Ashiel, who was watching her every move with wide eyes. "You like Uncle Ezekiel."

"Anja," Ashiel confirmed, pointing towards Alex's wings.

"That's right, he's an angel," Alex praised, flicking him playfully with the long feathers. The fledgling giggled, and she closed the cupboard door. "Some old friends need my help, and I owe them that much after running away." She crouched down on the floor, wings curling forward to keep the fledgling near. "Promise me you won't run from your family, okay, Ash?"

The fledgling blinked, confused by the sudden heartfelt change in the atmosphere, and he held up his small hand, flexing his fingers as he made a small noise. "Ahn."

"Yes, I see your hand," the angel acknowledged with a small sigh; she hadn't been expecting anything less. She stood back up and turned to the fridge. "I think it's time for another snack," she decided, eyes flickering over to the clock to check the time. "Yogurt, maybe? I could go for some yogurt."

"Guh," the fledgling agreed.

"Yogurt it is, then." Alex dug a small container of yogurt out of the fridge and put it on the table before turning to the fledgling at her side. His arms were up, wings fluttering in excitement, and Alex picked him up with an exaggerated huff before she set him down in his highchair. "There we go," she teased, turning back to the food on the table. "You're getting heavy."

"Guh," Ashiel repeated, pointing adamantly towards his snack.

Alex rolled her eyes at the child's impatience. "Yeah, I know, I know," she chastised gently. "I'm getting there."

...

A gentle breeze pushed past Alex's sleek feathers, and she pulled her wings in closer. The young angel shoved her hands deeper into her pockets as she looked around the dark warehouse parking lot. The only light came from a flickering streetlight high above her head, its incessant buzzing filling the quiet air. Men and women trickled past, one by one, and the air hummed with a supernatural essence.

The young angel shifted uncomfortably in the presence of so many pagan gods, and her eyes scanned the dark and dusty road as her foot tapped impatiently on the cracked concrete.

She heard the engine's purr before she saw its sleek black frame, and Alex felt some of the tension leave her wings as the Impala glided into view. It died with a throaty growl, and four figures emerged. Alex stepped forward as Sam Winchester gave her a small wave, and she reciprocated the gesture. Her small smile faltered when Dean caught her eye, but his earlier anger seemed to have disappeared.

Her attention was turned to the shorter two, and the angel cocked her head as she recognized them — one of them, at least. "You cut your hair," she noted to Kevin Tran, eyes focusing on the short black strands. "I like it."

"Uh, thanks." Kevin's eyes darted across her face before looked away, uncomfortable by the angel's amiable attitude.

Alex opened her mouth to address the woman who must be Kevin's mom, but the words had barely formed in her throat before a hand came out of nowhere, leaving the angel only enough time to violently reel back. The hand missed, and Alex's darted out, catching the wrist in a tight grasp as a scowl formed across her face. "Slap me one more time and I'll break it," she growled, squeezing the wrist in a warning before she shoved it away.

Mrs. Tran's scowl matched hers in ferocity. "You abandoned my son!" she hissed. "You left him for the demons —"

The prophet's mother cut off when the streetlights flickered violently. Alex, however, only raised her head, fixing the light with a calm stare. "Another guest has shown up," she announced calmly before turning back to Mrs. Tran. "I'm sorry about Kevin," she began evenly, "but there's no changing the past, and I don't regret my actions for a second." She looked up at Sam. "Should we go inside? I'd like to get this over with as fast as possible."

Dean huffed. "You don't seem very happy to be with us."

The young angel's eyes narrowed slightly in hurt. "Actually, that's not it," she retorted. "Fun fact — angels have no innate sense of parental instincts. They may have four heads and be the size of the Empire State, but give them a child and it's chaos. So, considering I had to leave my child with one on such short notice, you might be able to understand why I'm in a bit of a hurry."

Without waiting for Dean's response, Alex turned around and led the way towards the warehouse door. She felt them follow, and her wings twitched in a silent thanks, even as a cold stream of guilt trickled through her chest. She had no idea why she was acting so tense around the brothers; every mental conversation of Dean's return had been filled with excitement and relief. Of course, in every single one of those conversations, Dean had never come back alone.

The angel slowed and let Sam take the lead, falling into step behind the prophet and his mother. She followed them through the heavy metal door, and she felt a frown crease her face as she looked about the room. It was large, with high concrete ceilings, and the angel could feel the wardings — painted white on the walls — pressing down upon her, forcing her grace back within the confines of her body. Men and women wandered around the room, gathering around the tables of artifacts and trinkets that were scattered throughout the floor.

A nudge on her shoulder had the angel moving forward through a large metal detector; it remained silent as she passed, reminding the angel of the reason she had left her weapon at home — the invitation had been explicit, and Alex was intent on making it home in one piece.

The scream of the detector behind her informed her Dean was not as concerned about their safety as she was — or perhaps he was, the angel mused as she turned to look back at the Winchester. It must be hard walking into a room full of the very things you hunt, completely unarmed and exposed.

"Now, now, Dean," a man chastised as he stepped forward. His tongue clicked in disappointment. "The system only works when everyone participates."

Alex watched as the Winchester slowly began emptying his pockets. Knifes, guns, and flasks filled the plastic bin, and the angel felt Sam's exasperation grow with each revealed weapon. Finally Dean pulled the demon knife from his jacket pocket. "I'll be back for this," he warned when one of the guards tried to take it from his hand. He placed it into the bin, and a frown marred his face as it was quickly carried away. "Son of a bitch," she heard the Winchester mutter under his breath. "Now I feel naked."

"Should have brought a wooden stake," Alex reminded casually as they fell into step beside each other. "These are mostly pagan gods, after all. Iron and silver are useless."

"I like to be prepared." Dean lengthened his stride to walk next to Sam, and Alex turned her attention back to her surroundings. They passed swords, amulets and rings, a journal with intricate DaVinci-like sketches, and a hammer that Alex swore could only be Mjölnir. "How the hell are we supposed to know who's who?" she heard Dean mutter.

"It's pretty simple, Dean," Sam huffed back. "They're all monsters."

"Pagan gods, mostly," Alex agreed, but her words fell on deaf ears as Dean suddenly perked up.
"Hey, hey." He waved them after him and they crossed the room to stop in front of a glass display case. It was clear to Alex that it was what they were there for; the edges of the tablet could be seen, but the writing was blocked from view by two steel plates. "Great."

"I guess we're not as original as we thought." Kevin's voice was saturated with disappointment, and the angel flicked her wing in his direction to show her agreement.

"It's okay, it's okay." Sam looked around, gears spinning in his head. "We just got to come up with a plan B."

"And what, pray tell, could possibly have been plan A?" A snide, thick voice had Alex rolling her eyes, but she turned to face the demon behind her. Crowley's dark gaze flickered across her wings, surprise passing through his eyes at her presence, but his voice concealed it well, and his words never broke stride. "Bring the prophet to the most dangerous place on Earth, memorize the tablet, and then va-moose?" Humor glinted in his eyes at his pun, and lips curled upwards in a sly grin. "Hello, boys."

"Crowley." Dean's voice conveyed his disgust well.

The demon ignored him. "Kevin," he started, addressing the prophet. Alex's feathers ruffled slightly in displeasure at his condescending tone. "What a pleasure to see you. Sorry about your little playdate. Her name?" Crowley paused, thinking, but brushed it off as unimportant. "Ah. Well, if you're going to make an omelet, you have to break a few spines." His eyes dropped down to Mrs. Tran, who had moved defensively in front of her son. "And who is this lovely young thing? Must be your sister —"

A resounding smack echoed through the warehouse as Mrs. Tran slapped the King of Hell across the face, and a sharp noise of surprise left his mouth. "Stay away from my son!" she hissed, eyes narrowed and mouth set in a tight line.

"Charming," Crowley quipped darkly as he rubbed his afflicted cheek. "Defiling her corpse has just made number one on my to-do list." He held up a hand when both Winchesters moved towards him. "Uh uh uh uh," he cautioned. "Don't mind a little love tap, but anything more, and our mookie pals may just throw you out."

"He's right, Dean." Sam put a hand out to stop his brother. "It's not worth it."

"Listen to Moose, Squirrel."

The doors were flung open, and five men strolled through, four wearing dark suits, a sharp contrast to the the large, heavy-set man in the middle who was wearing a white and blue track suit. "Ah." Crowley turned to look at the party of five. "Here comes our host."

"That's Plutus?" Alex huffed, and her feathers fluttered at the disgusted rise and fall of her shoulders. "And to think I got all dressed up."

She heard a breath of amusement from the King of Hell. "Don't flatter yourself, Kitten."

"Shut your whore mouth, Badger," the angel quipped back, but she turned away before she saw the demon's reaction. She could feel his amusement only grow, and the angel took in a deep breath to keep herself calm. Now wasn't the time to get temperamental; not with Ashiel.

Plutus passed them by, gaze sliding over the five of them and lingering a little too long on Kevin Tran for Alex's liking, but then he was gone through near door. Sam moved after him, and Alex followed close behind, briskly pushing her way between Dean and Crowley to stay close on the Winchester's heels.

She paused beside the door to let the Trans through, and confusion trickled through her when Dean didn't follow. Her eyes turned back to the dim and cluttered room as her lips twitched into a small frown. She spotted the Winchesters within seconds, his back to her as he stood deep in conversation with another young man. Not a man, Alex noted. An angel.

Slim brown and cream wings were curled at the angel's side, fitting well with the thin vessel. The red and white striped Weiner Hut uniform was clean and bright, starkly contrasted against the muted colors of the warehouse. Alex's wings rose at the sight of her own kind, and in four quick steps she was standing beside Dean. "Hi," she began, wings curling out and downwards. "What are you doing here?"

"You're Alex." The male angel studied her closely, fascination and awe dancing in his blue eyes. His wings fluttered upwards to complete the greeting before they immediately fell back to his side. "I'm Samandriel. I knew Castiel."

"Alfie's here for the tablet," Dean explained bluntly, and Alex saw his eyes flicker between the two of them before he stepped back. "I'll let you two be."

Alex watched the Winchester walk away. "What are you doing here?" she finally repeated once Dean was out of earshot. She quietly noted the small name tag on Samandriel's shirt that did in fact read 'Alfie,' but she made no comment.

"I'm here to protect the Word of God and its keeper," Samandriel explained, and his wings twitched uncomfortably as he surveyed his surroundings. "We usually don't come to things like this; they're immoral, bidding souls for earthly things."

"Souls, huh?" Alex shoved her hands in her pockets. "That explains why Crowley was acting so suave." She curiously eyed the angel before adding, "So then what exactly is it that you're bidding?"

"Anything that heaven holds." Samandriel's face remained serious, blue eyes widening slightly as he spoke with the most urgent importance. "I have been given the right to do what I must; the tablet must not fall in the wrong hands."

"Understandable." Alex glanced towards behind her, and she motioned after her as she walked towards the heavy set of double doors. "We should probably get in there before the bidding starts."

Samandriel held the door open as Alex passed through, and she flicked her wings in thanks as she entered the auction room. It was barebones to say the least; metals chairs were line in rows, and the walls were a faded brick and mortar. The most exotic piece of furniture was a leather armchair where Plutus now sat, a newspaper in his hands as he waited for his guests to take their seats.

Alex spotted her friends sitting in the third row back, and she hesitated, deciding where to go. Her decision was made simple as Samandriel moved past her to sit directly behind Sam, and Alex followed, settling down into the chair beside him. The angel's thin wings fluttered in a silent acknowledgement as he drew them back to make room.

"Samandriel," Crowley stopped beside them, and Alex tipped her head to look up at the demon. The demon's gaze flitted over her before stopping on the other angel. "Slumming it, aren't we?" Alex frowned at his words, not sure if he was talking about the warehouse or her. She turned back to the angel beside her and was about to speak, but Crowley beat her to it, his next words definitely referring to her. "I'd be careful if I were you," he added, "This one has a habit of … losing her little pets."

Alex's wings flapped in offense, and she turned to snap, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned back to Samandriel, surprised to find him as calm as ever. In front of her, the Winchesters were still deep in conversation, urgent whispers passing between them as Sam compiled something in his lap.

"Don't know why you're so keen on that hunk of dirt," Crowley commented loudly so the humans in front of him could hear, and Alex disgustedly shifted closer to Samandriel as the King of Hell say down in the chair beside her. "So it tells you how to blast back a few demons. I'll make more." He leaned forward slightly. "Can't get rid of all of my black-eyed boys, Samantha."

"Yeah, we'll see," Sam shot back under his breath, just loud enough for the three in the back row to hear.

"All right," Dean muttered, leaning closer to his brother. "How much we got?"

"Uh, well, we got our hacked credit cards, two thousand dollars, and a, uh, Costco membership." Dean handed Sam each item in turn, who shuffled through them., and Alex gave a slight roll of her eyes; was she seriously the only one who had known going into this that checks weren't accepted?

"Our first item, the amulet of Hesperus," the man up front began, holding up a box containing a small golden necklace with a heavy, six-sided star-like pennant hanging from its thin chain. "Let's start the bidding with, um, three tons of dwarven gold?"

The young angel didn't miss the way the brothers heads dropped in amazement and disbelief, and she rolled her eyes. "They're not always the sharpest bulbs in the shed," she joked as she turned to look at Samandriel. Before he could respond, she added, "So, uh, how's heaven doing? I know things were in a bit of a shamble there for a while …" She trailed off quietly, folding her legs up under her on the chair. It would probably be awhile before the tablet was up for grabs, and right now she was more interested in the angel beside her than the bidding.

"Thing are slowly getting better," Samandriel began, but Alex didn't miss the way his lips turned downwards in uncertainty. "There is still no leader for us, but certain . . . factions are rising up. It was them that sent me here. Apparently it wasn't an easy choice; there was some disagreement on my qualifications —"

"But here you are," Alex finished.

"But here I am," the angel quietly agreed with a small nod.

"So if you don't mind me asking, how old are you?" Alex ignored the amused huff from the demon beside her, flicking him in the side with her dark wings in irritated retaliation. "I-I mean, you don't — you seem younger than most of the angels I know."

"That would be because I am. I was born almost three thousand years ago." Samandriel ducked his head at the grin on Alex's face. "It's young for an angel," he half-heartedly insisted.

"Oh, trust me, I know." Alex reached out and flicked the small wiener name tag. "Your vessel definitely suits you, Alfie."

The angel looked like he was going to protest, as if there was something wrong about what she had said, but in the next second he decided against it. "How are things here on Earth?" he asked instead, gaze momentarily moving past Alex when Dean got up and walked out of the room. "I've heard you've been living here since Castiel . . . you know."

"Yeah." Alex picked at the rubber sole of her shoe, intently studying where it was coming apart. "I've been living here for the past year. How did you know?" She looked up curiously at the angel beside her. "Did you know Cas?"

"Not very well." Samandriel gave a small shake of his head before he reached up, pulling back his red ball cap to brush a hand through his short, dark hair. "Ezekiel is one of my commanders; I know he's been coming down to visit you quite often, but I've only met Castiel four or five times." His voice lowered in sympathy. "He was a good angel. You were lucky to have known him so well."

"Yeah," Alex echoed quietly, wings pulling in close as she looked away. "Lucky." She let out a long sigh, fingers drumming on the metal legs of the chair. "It's been hard without him," she quietly admitted.

She heard Samandriel make a small noise of sympathy, but her attention was drawn away from the angel when a glint of metal caught her eye. "Our next item up for bid, the hammer of Thor, Mjölnir." The man up front held up the large, silver hammer, and Alex perked up, feathers curling forward slightly.

"A-A finger bone from the frost giant Ymir," a frail old man in the front row offered, holding up the mummified appendage.

Alex saw Plutus give a small shake of his head, and she leaned to her left as her voice dropped to a whisper. "You should get me that," she murmured to the demon beside her, wings flicking towards the hammer. "It'd be cool."

Crowley let out a low hum. "Put it on your Christmas list, little mouse."

Little mouse? That was a new one. Alex shrugged, attention drawn back to the man hunched over in the first row, desperately digging through his worn leather bag. "Uh… the bone and…" He held up a brown paper sack just high enough for Alex to see the bloodstained bottom. "Five eighths of a virgin."

"Ew." Alex pulled her lips up in disgust, and she saw the group of humans in front of her recoil as well.

Plutus, however, just gave a small, satisfied nod, and the auctioneer smiled at his boss' content. "Ah. Sold."

Her grace picked up movement behind her, and Dean quietly moved into the room. He ducked down as he slid into the row in front of Alex, not so gently knocking Sam in the shoulder to get him to move over a seat. Metal chair legs scraped against the concrete floor as the two hunters got resituated, and then Alex head Dean muttered, "Plan C tanked."

"Maybe you should try Plan D for dumbass," Crowley quipped, and Alex snorted under her breath, unable to help but grin in amusement. She didn't miss the dark glare Dean cast at the demon, who remained wholly unperturbed.

"Our next lot, the Word of God." The auctioneer held up a large, grey tablet, and the room fell silent. "Capital 'G.' Very old, very rare."

Crowley got to his feet, hands sliding into his pockets. "Three billion dollars," he declared, a smug look across his face when the Winchesters looked up in shock.

On her other side, Samandriel rose as well, the angel's thin and awkward frame a painful contrast to the demon's large and confident facade. However, his voice was strong and clear. "The Mona Lisa."

Alex saw the Winchesters turn in confusion, but Crowley only smugly countered, "The real Mona Lisa. Where she's topless."

"That totally doesn't exist," Alex huffed under her breath, a roll of her eyes accompanying her words. She saw the demon cock an eyebrow in amusement, accepting her unspoken challenge, but he gave no verbal response.

Samandriel raised his chin. "Vatican City."

"Alaska."

"Palin and a bridge to nowhere?" The auctioneer raised his brow at the demon's audacity. "No thanks."

Crowley frowned deeply, but within the next second his composure was regained. "Alright," he said. "The moon."

"You're bidding the moon?" Dean turned around in disbelief, and his shocked and unsure expression was mirrored on Sam's face.

"Yeah. Claimed if for hell. Think a man named Buzz gets to go into space without making a deal?" Crowley cocked an eyebrow before he turned back to the auctioneer, awaiting his answer. Beside her, Samandriel waited, but his nervous impatience hummed through his grace, and Alex saw the tip of his wings twitch with uncertainty.

"Ah. I'm sorry, gentlemen." The god shook his head, disappointed at their offers. "It seems that our reserve price has not been met. So in order to stimulate the bidding, we're going to add an item to this lot." He raised a hand towards the audience pointing directly at the prophet. "Kevin Tran, Prophet of the Lord."

Alex heard Mrs. Tran gasp in horror, and then energy twisted through the air. Kevin was yanked to the front of the room, too fast for the human eye to see, and large, brown eyes widened even further in surprise as he found himself handcuffed to the metal pipe beside Plutus. He pulled at his bonds as he looked up in desperation at the Winchesters.

"No!" His mother jumped to her feet and Alex follow suit, grace coiling angrily within her. Sam and Dean stood, but two men pushed past Alex and held them down.

"Stop." Alex's command was deep and strong, and she tried to push her grace outwards, but the warding prevented her from reaching far. Her demands were ignored as the auctioneer once again spoke, as calm as ever.

"Mr. Tran is the only person on Earth who can read this tablet, which makes them a perfect matching set." He motioned to the wide-eyed prophet, and Alex let out a low growl. "So, do I hear a bid of, um —"

"No, stop!" Mrs. Tran's shrill voice cut him off. "I'll give you whatever you want. I have a 401K, my house—"

"Let him go and I'll let you live."

Eyes turned upon Alex, and she ruffled out her feathers, wings raised high as she held the auctioneer's gaze. She heard Plutus chuckle from where he sat, and she turned her head to see a dark smile on the pagan god's round face. "Don't make threats you can't keep," he warned lightly.

Alex turned her grace inward, pushing and prodding at Lucifer's grace, trying to get it to stir, to explode outwards and break the wardings to prove her point, but it refused. It only pulled away and curled up deeper within her.

Plutus chuckled again at the angel's lack of action and turned back to Mrs. Tran. The auctioneer, seeing his boss' confidence, did the same. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Tran, but I'm afraid this is a little out of your price range."

"My soul!"

Alex's wings flared out in fury, the rustling of her feathers filling the air. She was going to bid her soul? Why were humans so stupid?

"Mom, don't!" Kevin begged, but his mother didn't listen.

"I bid my own soul," she repeated.

Alex let out a frustrated snarl, but Lucifer's grace refused to stir. The angel looked over at Samandriel, at his wide eyes and fallen face, and without a second's hesitation she shoved her grace full force into his. "Sorry 'bout this," she growled when the angel jumped in surprise, but she didn't stop. She wrapped her grace tightly around his, and drew it into her, even when the intimacy of the action made her feathers curl uncomfortably. She kept going, ignoring how Samandriel's grace struggled violently in protest, but in the next second she had what she needed.

Lucifer's grace sprang to life, exploding outwards in unholy fury at the touch of the other angel's grace within hers. Bulbs exploded and windows shattered, sending the warehouse into a panicked darkness.

"I said no." Alex reined Lucifer's grace back in, and her eyes widened at how violent and crazed it remained, twisting and flailing within her. She tried to wrap it inside her grace, but it only slightly calmed the inner rage. The angel swallowed thickly to regain control of her voice before she spoke. "Release the prophet."

"Remove her." Plutus' order was painfully calm, so strongly contrasted by the panic and uncertainty that gripped the rest of the room.

Alex flicked her wings, a low growl vibrating through her chest as two men gripped her shoulders. She shoved them backwards, the broken wardings no longer ailing her strength. Her confidence faltered when metal glinted in the dim light, the unmistakable shape of the angel blades making her shift backwards.

"Ah ah." To her complete surprise, Crowley put an arm across her chest. "I don't recommend trying that." He cast Plutus a glance over his shoulder and his voice grew scathing. "As much as I would enjoy having you swat one of heaven's little pests, I happen to know this one — more importantly, I happen to know that it wasn't just her responsible for that little show." The demon dropped his arm, and Alex folded her wings down in confusion to where this was going. "That? That was an archangel." Anger flashed in the King's eyes. "Heaven's most powerful weapon is at her side, and you want to risk that thing coming down here to find her dead? I happen to choose life, thank you very much."

Alex stared at the demon, jaw slack as she looked for something to say, and their eyes locked for one, long second before she thrust her wings down and took off out of the building. She tumbled to a stop on the other side of town, black feathers curling around her as she misjudged her distance and stumbled on the dirt. Whoa. Did the King of Hell just save her life?

"Stupid." Her fist connected with a nearby telephone pole, and the angel growled at the pain. "Stupid stupid stupid creature." She shook her fist as she turned away. "Can't believe I just got my ass saved by a demon."

Her back pocket buzzed, and Alex reached back to find her phone. She took a deep breath to compose herself before she answered. "Dean. I'm sorry about that."

The Winchester didn't sound "Yeah, I know. Where are you?"

"Uh, other side of town. I might just head back to my place. Listen," she added before the Winchester could speak, "I know you need my help, and I really hate leaving before you guys are safe, but I think we can both agree there's no way I'm getting back in there."

She heard Dean grunt in agreement. "They're putting up more warding," he informed her darkly. "Your friend Alfie says it should keep out Michael himself."

"Yeah, not a surprise." Alex looked around, and a long breath fell from her pale lips. "Okay. What do you want me to do, Dean? Want me to stick around? If you need me, I can be there in seconds."

She waited patiently while the two Winchesters on the other line discussed in hushed voices. "Go home," Dean finally said. "But, uh, we'll talk later."

"Sure thing, Winchester." Alex snapped her phone shut and shoved it back into her pocket. Guilt trickled through her at the idea of leaving the Trans in such a dangerous situation, and the angel's wings fell back down to her side. She was responsible for them, wasn't she?

"That was brave what you did."

Alex spun around at the voice, eyes widening in surprise to find Samandriel standing behind her. "T-Thanks?" she got out. "Why aren't you at the auction? Is it over? And it wasn't brave. It was stupid."

The angel blinked, quietly formulating his response. "I'll watch over the Trans," he finally promised. "You should go before anyone comes looking for you."

Alex hesitated, but reluctantly nodded. "Okay," she agreed before her wings carried her off into the air. She could trust the Winchesters with this — after all, they had kept her safe for over five years. Yes, they were in danger, but right now, she had something far more important.

Alex pulled her wings in close as she fell from the sky, shoes sinking into the scratchy motel carpet, and the rustling of her feathers drew the attention of the nearby seraph. Grey wings rose in greeting, and Ezekiel stood. "You're back," he acknowledged in a low voice as not to wake the sleeping child in the far bed. "How was your evening? Good, I trust."

Alex let out a small smile. "I got kicked out of the auction," she admitted quietly. "It's seriously no big deal though. Uh, but thanks for watching Ash," she added, quickly diverting the subject with a quick glance towards her fledgling. "Any trouble?"

Ezekiel shook her head, and Alex nodded.

"Good." She folded her wings in close and moved to walk past him before she paused. "Oh. I ran into, uh, Samandriel at the auction. He mentioned that he knew you."

The seraph gave a short dip of his head. "He's a good kid. I know him and his father well."

"Huh. Yeah, he seems pretty nice." Alex watched as Ezekiel left, frowning as Lucifer's grace twisted angrily within her. "Settle down," she chastised under her breath, moving to sit on the bed opposite Ashiel. She pulled her grace in tightly around the archangel's, a breath leaving her nose as she strained to keep it under control.

The fledgling still slept soundly, undisturbed by her arrival, and Alex reached out to place a gentle hand on his back. "I almost didn't make it back tonight," she whispered. "What would you have done then?" Sadness pulled down on her wings, and the angel heaved a sigh. "This is why I can't keep you. Your Mommy's reckless; she's not afraid to die. What happens if I don't come back one day?" She stroked the child's soft grey feathers. "You deserve a real family. You deserve better than me."