Hollowing Souls

Let it Bleed

January 25th, 2012

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

...

"She seem unnaturally quiet to you?"

Alex stayed where she was on the kitchen floor, half-heartedly tossing a tennis ball up and down in the air. The three hunters were in the study, and by the sound of it Bobby was getting worried. She heard the rustle of pages as Dean flipped a book shut, but neither Winchester immediately responded.

"Think it's the sigils?" Dean finally asked, referring to the red angel-proofing sigils Bobby had put up last night that had, of course, not been truly effective as they were intended to be.

Alex imagined Bobby shaking his head. "Shouldn't be it. She won't be able to leave, but that's about the extend of what they'll do."

Sam decided to speak up, lowering his voice. "She's pretty upset about something. She only wears that shirt when she's upset."

At those words, Alex rolled over and walked into the living room. All three immediately fell silent; Dean looked back down at the journal he was reading, and Sam slumped on the couch, gaze dropping to his own book. Alex laid down next to Sam, head resting on his thigh as she closed her eyes. She shifted slightly, pulling the collar of Sam's blue and black plaid shirt she was borrowing up around her nose. Her wings settled against the back of the couch as she heard Bobby leave the room.

After a few seconds Sam relaxed, his right arm coming back down to rest gently on her neck as he continued to read.

The armchair creaked as Dean got up, and heavy footfalls signaled his leave. Sam's arm shifted, a large hand coming to rest on her blonde hair. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Alex pushed up into his comforting touch. "I'm fine," she promised, the first she had spoken all day. Sam moved to pull away, but she whined, settling back down when the hand returned.

Fingers toyed mindlessly with her hair as the Winchester continued to read, pausing after only half a minute. "Sorry if this is weird . . ."

Alex burrowed deeper into Sam. "Don't stop," she mumbled, wings folding around her. "It helps." The hand returned as Dean walked back into the room and sat down.

...

Fifteen minutes or so passed. Alex had drifted into headspace, vaguely conscious of what was happening around her, but unable — and unwilling — to comprehend anything beyond that. She lost herself in the sound of turning pages and Sam's constant heartbeat.

It was Sam's movement that pulled her out of it. "Well, at least you tried," he was saying as he leaned forward slightly.

"Yeah, fat lot of good that did," Dean replied quietly, and Alex shifted as she realized she had missed most of their conversation. She shifted again, more purposefully this time, and Sam returned his hand to her shoulder as Dean continued. "Why did he even come, right?"

Sam shrugged, turning back to his book. Alex watched through half-closed eyes as Dean snapped the journal shut and stood up. "Well, Samuel's journals are pointless," he huffed, intent on changing the conversation. "I mean, I'm sorry, but, uh, Jedediah Campbell has squat to tell me about how to stop Cas from cracking Purgatory."

The stairs creaked, and Alex looked over to see Bobby returning from downstairs. His gaze flickered over Alex and Sam before speaking. "Actually, it's not about the journals we have, it's about the one we don't."

"Meaning what?"

"Well, that's the bad news. Our pal Cas didn't stop in last night just to mend fences." At those words, Alex rolled over, burying her face in Sam's side. She heard the hunter grunt out something of an apology.