Song Remains the Same

Chapter 8: Abandon Ship

"Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too."
- Florence and the Machine

Several Days Later
Kimball, Nebraska

Alex lay back-first on the floor of the abandoned cabin. An arm pillowed her head as she stared at the ceiling. It was sometime near sunset and getting dark inside. Beside her, a half-consumed bottle of whiskey sat temporarily forgotten. She idly smoked a cigarette, watching the haze of smoke dissipate above. Alex liked to light up here and there, especially in times of high stress or boredom. It had started as a teenage act of rebellion. She'd wanted to do something that would get her in trouble, if not with Dad (who wasn't around enough to pick up on the secret habit), then with Dean or even with Sam. Only, no one had noticed. Not at first.

Finally, Dean caught a whiff after Alex dared to sneak a smoke in the car—and he immediately accused Sam of smoking then launched into a tirade about drugs, alcohol, and how Sam was not only a bad example, but headed straight for prison. Pretty ironic considering that Dean dropped out of school at seventeen and had experimented with recreational drugs and alcohol since twelve. After Dean's accusations, Sam insisted that he hadn't smoked anything, ever, and it must have been Alex. At that point, she'd felt too embarrassed to own up to it, and in cowardice had lied by shaking her head no. Dean hadn't even questioned it, immediately tearing into Sam for lying. When Sam later asked her about who had smoked cigarettes in the Impala, she wrote down: Maybe it was Dad? Sam got this aggravated look and rolled his eyes. He knew it had been her, and she knew that he knew. But he never said anything about it again.

Lying about that was something Alex still regretted. She blew another ribbon of smoke, lazily watching it rise. Dean would kill her if he could see this. He probably wanted to kill her period right now. She had done some crazy stuff throughout the years, but running away wasn't one of them. She estimated all-new levels of fury when she dragged herself back to the boys.

At first, running off had been thrilling. An instant cure for all the anxiety she'd been battling from being caught in the middle of the escalating family drama. But she'd started doubting her decision very quickly, then realized she was trapped into following through. After leaving the note she had, she wasn't going to look like a dumbass and go back on what she'd said.

She'd been away from her brothers and out of contact for days now, spending the entire time counting down until when she could return and not look stupid. It just needed to be long enough to be taken seriously—and not too long that she'd be accused of going overboard. Eh, who was she kidding. Dean wouldn't be happy no matter what. After all, he'd just gotten back from the dead. And what had she done? Run off the first chance she got. She cursed herself for the impulsive decision. She knew she owed some major apologies.

However, the past few days had been overall relaxing and nice, whether Alex wanted to admit it to herself or not. Instead of the normal monster hunting and mortal danger and a whole apocalypse to stop, she'd gone into useless lump mode, living off gas station junk food, weed, cigarettes, and alcohol all while drifting around place to place. After so many years of avoiding the authorities and dodging various radars, hiding from her brothers had been easy. She knew the tricks—SIM card out of the phone, cash only instead of credit cards, switching the plates on the stolen motorcycle... she'd done it all by second nature and knew that even if her brothers had tried to find her, there was no way. She'd left no trace after Kansas City, where she'd gotten enough cash out of an ATM to last for weeks. One of the things she bought? A bible. She'd been offhandedly studying the book of Revelation, searching for answers on angels or the apocalypse.

Alex's eyes drifted to the softening sky visible through a cracked window then she blinked heavily and put her cigarette out on the floor. Pleasantly tipsy, she sat up slowly and listened to the sound of silence. She hadn't spoken out loud in a couple of days... so she hummed the tune of Crazy Train softly just to make sure her voice was still there. It was.