Desolation Comes Upon the Sky

Citizen Fang

Alex leaned back up against the windshield of the Impala, eyes turned up towards the slate grey clouds hidden behind the large neon sign of the Lost in the 50's Diner. Her knees were pulled up against her chest, arms keeping them close. Sam sat behind her in the passenger seat, voice low and urgent as he discussed something over the phone. Dean wasn't currently in her sight; the quickly approaching footfalls, however, indicated that he was coming their way.

She had returned to the Winchesters only that morning after having spent several days alone with Castiel; unfortunately, he had felt he was needed elsewhere for his penance, and when Alex had promised that she would be fine, he was gone, leaving Alex to return to the two brothers.

She heard the Impala door open, and Dean got in. "Who is it?" he whispered loudly to Sam, and the angel reluctantly rolled off of the hood and onto the gravel parking lot. She saw how Sam held up his finger, motioning to be quiet, and she slid into the backseat.

"No, listen to me," the younger brother insisted. "I said hang tight." He shook his head and snapped his phone shut. "We gotta go."

Dean looked down at his meal. "C-Can I at least finish my burger?" he asked, and Alex peered over his shoulder, reaching out to grab a fry. Dean didn't even attempt to slap her hand away, and the angel fell back against the seat as tightness clawed at her chest. He was letting her get away with it because he pitied her. His pity didn't help; it only made her hurt more.

"We got a vamp kill, Dean." Sam shifted as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. "Carencro, Louisiana."

"Huh." Dean took a bite of his food before he quipped, "It's been a while since I've had some étouffée. Who's the source?"

"Martin Creaser."

The car fell silent, and Alex's wings twitched at the tension that built up within the small space. The name didn't sound familiar, but then again, a lot of people had passed through both her and the Winchester's lives.

"Sorry," Dean finally said, setting down his burger. "For a minute there I thought you said Martin Creaser." His jaw dropped further in disbelief when Sam didn't answer. "Crazy Martin from the loony bin?"

"Glendale Springs discharged him last month."

"Wait wait wait. Martin?" Alex leaned forward, interest suddenly sparkling in her eyes as the name clicked into place. "Martin from Glendale Springs. With the wraith? Are you serious?" She put her hands on the back of the front seat as she looked up into Sam's face.

"Shouldn't he be assembling toys in a padded room?" Dean added scathingly. "What's he doing back on the job?"

Sam looked away, debating what to say before he finally came clean. "I asked him."

"You what?"

"Look, he called me when he got out, asked if he had something that could help ease him back into the game. He seemed okay — mostly —" Alex snorted, but Sam's only response was an annoyed huff "— so I said yes. I've had him tracking Benny for the past week."

There was a silent pause. "You put 'mostly okay' Martin on Benny?" Dean finally snapped. "What is 'mostly okay' doing hunting at all?"

"Not hunting, Dean. Tracking." Sam's voice grew defensive at his brother's tone. "Observe and report only. I was crystal clear about that."

"Yeah," Alex quipped scornfully. "And I'm sure 'mostly okay' Martin was 'mostly okay' with that."

"Hey." Sam turned his head to give the young angel a glare. "Benny's a vampire. Any hunter worth his salt isn't just gonna let one walk around freely. You know that, right? Don't tell me you don't." When Alex looked away, uncomfortable lying by saying that she did trust Benny, Sam continued. "That's why I've had Martin keeping tabs on him. And right now it's looking like I made the right call."