Ketch Me if You Can

Epilogue

My eyes sprung open and I immediately looked around myself. This wasn't the same room I had just been dying in. Where was everyone? Dean? Sam? Mary? Ketch? Where the Hell were they? Where was I? I sat up, quickly regretting the movement. A thick wave of nausea and pain poured over me. I clutched my side, the source of the pain. What the fuck had happened to me?

I looked around the room. I was lying on an old, yellow mattress. Like something you'd find in a jail cell. At least it was covered in off-white sheets and had a pillow. The room itself looked to be made of cold stone, pillars made of old rusted metal lined the corners and arched across the ceiling. There was a single door on the wall that sat furthest from me, and a mirror just a few feet away on the adjoining wall.

I carefully stood, waiting for another wave of nausea and pain to subside before walking towards it. I ignored more of the pain in my side as it grew with each step. It was almost unbearable when I finally stood in front of the mirror. I looked myself over. My hair was surprisingly kempt but looked crusty in places. I ran a hand through it, my side screaming at the move, and wasn't surprised to see my hand come away with crumbly dried blood. I looked down at my chest next. My shirt was torn all over with small cuts and one large hole where the pain in my side seemed to stem from. Each place was trimmed with dried blood. My jeans were ripped at the knees, but otherwise intact.

I peeled my shirt away from my chest and took it off. I stood topless in front of the mirror. I ran my fingers over every bright pink new scar. They slashed across my chest and stomach, creating almost a spider web of scars. I gingerly touched the large scar that was in between a few ribs on my right side. The hole was more shaped like an ugly three-pointed star. It was in such a spot that should have left me long dead. Yet here I stood.

I looked at my face for the first time. There were no new scars there, but I studied the old ones just the same. The one above my eyes and the small cut beneath my lips. I was trying to avoid staring into my own eyes, but it felt inevitable after a certain point. When I did look, they did what I feared the most. The shift to the completely black sphere's from my natural dark brown was not as much of a shock as I had thought it would be. They went back to brown again in another blink. I had died. I was a demon.

I looked away from the stranger in the mirror and looked back to the bed. A new pile of clothes lay on the end where there had not been any before. I walked over to them numb and dressed myself before walking out into the hallways of Hell.

It was quiet. Not a single lesser demon came to greet me as I left the room. There wasn't even a guard at the door. It felt strange to me. I continued down the hall until I reached the room I knew Crowley would be behind. The throne room as he called it. I took a deep breath before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

"We need to start looking for them elsewhere." Crowley was giving orders to a lesser demon I didn't know the name of. "They can't have gotten far. The hounds lost them here. It won't take long before they run out of whatever that dust is. So just send more out to track them."

"Yes, sir." It was odd not to hear the demon refer to Crowley as 'king'. He must have dropped the title even after Lucifer had left the world. He had left, right? They had made it through? The memories I had of my last days were fuzzy, I couldn't yet remember how I'd died.

"Crowley," I said, stepping further into the room.

"Mouse! You're awake." the demon said, coming to hug me. I winced a little and he let go, "You're still healing."

"I guess so? How long have I been out Crowley?" I asked, afraid of the answer.

"It's been...a long time, Mouse. A year." Crowley said softly.

"A year!" I said, my eyes going wide. "What happened to everyone? Are they safe? Do they know I'm dead? Is Elly safe?!" I couldn't think past the last question. I grabbed onto Crowley's arm and looked him in the eye "Tell me she's safe."

"Relax, Mouse." He smiled kindly, "She and Lucifer made it through the rift safely. Mother closed it just as you ran to help that angel of yours."

I looked at him, my eyes searching his for any lies or half-truths. But I couldn't find any. I let go of his arm and turned away, a hand running through my hair again.

"You don't remember, do you?" Crowley asked.

I shook my head.

"Ah. I'll try to remind you. You pushed Elly towards the rift and got yourself stabbed in the back as she and Lucifer went through it." My hand drifted to the scar on my ribs as he spoke, "And then you turned around and killed the angel who'd attacked you. Then you ran off and helped your angel kill Michael. I'm honestly surprised you lasted long enough to do that." I heard the demon walk away from me. "After that old mechanic killed off the last angel, you foolishly pulled the blade free and proceeded to bleed out in the arms of the Brit."

"Ketch..." His name felt like honey on my tongue as I whispered it, "Is he ok?"

"I'm not sure, Mouse." I turned to Crowley as he said this, "No one knows where he went. I've assumed he's dead by now."

"No, he'd be here." I chuckled. I knew that was true. I started to remember my death. The sadness in everyone's eyes. The pain I had felt in those last moments. And then the numbness of death. "It was slow..."

"You were determined to hand on for a while." Crowley's voice brought me back from the memories. "You were torturing yourself for no reason."

"The boys are ok?" I asked.

"Yes. Sam's studying for his law degree in between hunts." Crowley was pacing in front of the stone throne. "And Dean, feathers, and the Nephilim are shacked up in Tennessee somewhere."

"I need to see them. I need to find Elly..."

"You won't be able to open another rift, Mouse." Crowley said softly, "No archangel is going to let you borrow their grace."

"I'll find another way then."

"There is no other way." It was a firm tone.

"I said, I'll find one." I hissed, clenching my fists. That simple action alone, sent cracks through the floor, away from my feet. "What did I just do..."

Crowley stopped his pacing and looked at me. "You're my second in command now, Mouse. You're the most powerful demon I could make. The most powerful one in current Hell." He smiled at this.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because that was our deal."

I relaxed my fists, and turned to leave the room, Crowley soon at my heels.

"Where do you think you're going?" He said, attempting to stop me, "I have something I need you to do."

"I need to see my brothers," I said, my tone flat.

"And what do you think will happen when they see you?" The demon laughed, "You're a demon now Alex. They'll only see you as another monster to kill."

"We didn't kill Dean." I huffed.

"Dean was mostly human. You, are not."

My hand paused on the door. He was right. Damn it, I knew he was. If I went out like this, right now, after everything our lives had put us through, they would kill me without a second thought. It would always be to shoot first, and ask questions later with them. That's how it always had been and always would be. It had been the motto of our lives. I let my hand fall from the door and took a deep breath.

"What do you need me to do?"