The apocalypse, Eve, Cas’s… betrayal and allegiance with Crowley. One hundred and fifty years of travesty had rocked their lives in a matter of… three years? The reality was becoming all too familiar. One ploy after the next, again and again, they would chase their tales like feral dogs.
And they were aging! God, were they aging! The process of cellular deterioration had begun. No longer were they idiots in their mere twenties. No. Now Dean was 32 - nearly 30, Allie was 29, Sam was 28 and would soon follow suit in the birthday bonanza conga line of no longer being young and dumb - though they were still broke.
With the maturing process came a different perspective. The trio were not kids anymore. They weren’t young adults, considering Sam was the youngest and would soon be exiting his twenties as well. Suffice to say the years had taken a toll on them; a far greater toll than they could have imagined when they first began searching for John all those years ago.
Heaven was a woman that could not break. Though Allie had been bent to shit, folded even internally she rose with the flames of a Phoenix and soon regained particles of her old self. Not to say that her mental state didn’t suffer at times but - they had a job to do. The job never ended and Alice resigned herself to the fact that hunting was her life . She’d never have a family, she’d never hold her own baby in her arms or coo on the cusp of a doorway while a child slept just behind, still mothering though the youngster faded into slumber.
That was not her life.
It would not ever be her life.
The reason for such decisions was simple. She was getting older and with that, the female body ticked on an endless loop until that ticking softened and soon menopause began. Sure she wasn’t thirty and there was time but the woman hadn’t dated a man in years! The once golden soul had been tarnished over time and hardened. Men made her weary and thus dating meant being exposed.
Exposure was not a path that Alice Smith generally enjoyed.
Math was easy. One plus one and all. So, the truth came and went. Allie Smith was a hunter. She’d die a hunter. She’d live a hunter. She’d encompass the pure organism, the existential meaning of being a hunter . Depression could not play in that sandbox anymore. No time for that. They had a job to do .
And so, when Cas took on a new form created by the Leviathans and ‘God’… everything should have gone to shit for her. Instead, she walked on. Bowing to him had felt odd indeed but at that point, Allie’s defiance fled in favour of their found family remaining intact. ‘God’ gave a rather harrowing speech regarding them being his ‘favourite pets’ and in a millisecond he was gone.
Sam stood and watched with slight heaving in his muscled chest. They pulsed and throbbed beneath a flannel. The moment was quick and yet… unbearably long. As soon as Cas flittered away… if any part was Cas at all… there was a thick silence that fell around them. That silence became punctuated with the tickle of dripping blood. Blood that was… his own? A small wipe at his philtrum occurred.
And then the burning.
Intense, overwhelming, flesh charring burning. A collapse of everything that had ever been known and Sam fell to the floor in a pain-charged heap. He could feel it all below his skin. The searing… so hot. Everything was hot and ripped at his muscles. The flames licked and swelled underneath the physical exterior of his body.
Oh, the screams!
He writhed in terror and sudden scathing. The boiling touched inside his nostrils, his ear canals, his armpits. All nerves were ablaze and filled with utter and sheer blistering.
The man rolled around on the floor without actually feeling any semblance of where he was or what was happening. The cage surrounded him, though the setting was unknown and buried beneath whatever had been left of the ‘wall’. He had scratched. Evidently, far too much.
Dean lept forward to his sibling's side, attempting to coax him out of his sudden fit with clammy hands. "Sam, Sammy!" He cried with anguish, fingers curling into Sam's shirt and pulling the younger man up until their chests nearly met, shaking him slightly in an effort to bring him back to them. "SAM!" The name came out as a quick and violent yell of prayed absolution. Given their experience in the vengeful downstairs, an instant weight of concern pounded down onto him. While Sam released pained screams, his body contorting and fingernails scratching against the cement floor of their unfortunate location.
Bobby's head twitched as he stepped forward and joined alongside his surrogate son's side. "We gotta get 'im outta here, get his shoulders!" A slight pause but Dean did not answer and Bobby had to become more firm to catch his attention from the problem at hand. "Dean! Get his shoulders!" The elder hunter barked with loving intent and began to grab Sam's legs to assist in carrying him outside.
Allie followed suit through her worry, dainty hands interlocking around Sam's waist to help them bring him back to her father's. What else could they do? The likelihood of a hospital helping was pretty much off of the table and the fit... was not a seizure. She'd seen one once in college and, of course, had knowledge of the afflictions due to her prior career. This...was not that.
Sam was a large man but greater things had been accomplished. "Switch with me." She insisted before adjusting her position to hold up Sam's shoulder and keep his head turned to the side. Sure, maybe it wasn't epileptic but the symptoms were alike. Him choking on his own vomit or splitting his tongue up and gargling on it was a major concern, so she held steady while the boys took most of the physical lifting.
During the drive back to Bobby's Sam had begun to quiet down in the backseat. Bobby drove while Dean sat in the passenger side, keeping an eye on how things were going. Time was never on their side. Nothing was on their side most of the time and he was getting damn fuckin' tired of seeing his brother suffer over and over again. All of this because of his own lack of self-control and lack of strength in hell. All that Sam had gone through because a 'righteous' man had crawled off that rack and onto the torture floor. All because he was a weak-willed son of a bitch that couldn't even last half the time his father had. "How's he doing, Alls?" The urgency in his tone couldn't be masked. "It done? He done?" 'it' being... whatever had been happening. He wasn't sure what to call it.
Allie's eyes remained on the friend's head that had been turned on her lap, holding him in the position in case he purged. It didn't matter, he could cover her in bile and she'd sing if it meant he'd be okay. But thus far nothing had really happened and that was much, much worse. "Yeah, he's done," A short reply and Allie's fingers worked through Sam's long hair. "I think... he's... resting?" He certainly wasn't dead, though she'd hate to lump the state in with slumber considering what could have been going on in his peanut.
The very moment that Sam woke up the difference was slight, very small... nearly insignificant but he held himself with a demeanour of fear and... a sense of being far away. Allie watched while he walked around her father's home, feet cautious and moving slowly.
The tired look of his body pained her but that was almost regular for them. Sure they walked around and continued on but that didn't mean some of the days weren't fuckin' backbreaking. With Cas gone, they needed to think of their options. Finding him wouldn't be easy with the new revelation of him being 'God' (Something that Allie took with a grain of salt).
At least that's what they had thought.
He showed up on their doorstep, entering into Bobby's home with a groan and blood splattered across his tattered trenchcoat. His skin looked ghastly with abrasions and boils as if the flesh was burning at the seams and turning into a texture like that of melted plastic. He needed help and although he had betrayed them and thrust their trust in their own faces, Dean elected to help - if only as a means to an end, at least that's what Allie thought.
All that time spent with Castiel and she'd been right from the beginning. A wolf in sheep's clothing! He was like all of the others! Every damn angel and demon, God, Lucifer, Alastair, Michael - All of them! No one was watching out for them - not even Cas!
Once upon a time, Allie had looked at the angel like he was a searing red flag but over the course of their friendship they had become closer and an understanding had formed. In fact, in a few ways, Allie actually liked Castiel. He'd grown on her like a wart that... soon actually became more like a beauty mark. Cas added to their group. He saved her.
She thought he saved her.
Obviously, all of that had been for personal gain.
And so, as Dean pushed and attempted to help him - Allie watched on. They were back in that stupid room where they had started. Castiel was offering his apology for what he had done to Sam and that was a changing moment for her. Why?
Because years ago Allie had led herself to believe that everyone deserved some level of forgiveness. People did bad things, yes, but a lot of them were for reasons from childhood or traumas. Although Allie had a rough exterior she was generally kind deep down and did want to see good. Well, she'd started that way when she showed up at Bobby's. Just a girl in her early twenties who had lost everything and desperately wanted something, anything that resembled a family. She wore a tough facade and overconfidence. She was inappropriately flirtatious and vibrant, energetic to force light into harsh situations as a means to support those close to her. Allie was a strong woman with good intentions.
Now though? Not everyone deserved forgiveness. She'd grown. Cas was her friend. Cas had lied to her, manipulated her, hurt her family!
So she watched while he died. Did a part of it hurt? Yes. But she said nothing. Dean knelt down beside Cas and appeared somewhat emotional but Allie just swallowed as Cas went. "He lied to us, he made Sam suffer," She spoke with disdain. "I knew it! I knew it!" A yell at no one in particular in a form of forcing out her many frustrations.
Dean stayed silent and a harsh breath fell from his flared nostril. "Stop it," He didn't want to discuss that, or anything related to Cas's turn to the wrong side. Their friend was dead. Another one. He just wanted to be fucking quiet. He wanted everything to be quiet.
"What?!" Her voice grew in anger and Allie stepped forward, as if Dean was suddenly pushing her emotions to the side and neglecting her own point of view. All for Cas! For an angel! Dean thought angels were DICKS! Because they were!
Finally, Dean cracked beneath it all. His thin wall of facade that still held around Allie crumbled like that of a tsunami and a tear rolled down his cheek at the sight of losing Cas, losing another, always losing. Death followed them like a cloud and Sam... now they had no idea what to do or how to help his younger brother.
"Please, Allie. Just stop. I need things to be quiet for a second. I need..." The older Winchester struggled to articulate what he desired. He hadn't meant to deny her, he'd never deny her anything - not on purpose, at least. He just.... time. He needed time.
"I..." A hand moved to rub at her arm anxiously and Alice moved onto her knees, approaching the way that she truly felt rather than relying on anger to push her through the scene. Anger bred inside of her so easily most of the time that she didn't know when it was inappropriate anymore. Here she was yelling about what Cas had done without actually taking in what her best friend was going through, what he was experiencing on the inside. For someone who knew him so well and had been around him for so long... she'd forgotten that he couldn't always be the one taking care of her. Sometimes she needed to take care of him too.
She sat alongside him, ocean eyes flickering up to look at his melancholy face and softened. "I'm sorry," She spoke delicately and moved to wrap herself around him, only to watch as piercing blue eyes bounced open beneath them and Cas came too.
"Cas?"
Not even close. He stood with a snarling grin and took Dean's shirt in his hands, thrusting the Winchester across the room until his body smacked and crumpled against the wall. "Not exactly," A domineering stance as the figure stood up straight. "Cas is gone, dead." The Leviathans took over with immense power, multiples upon multiples within Cas's vessel and turned to the blonde. "We'll be back for you," They spoke in many voices combined, all coiling out of parted lips with evil neglect of human life before stumbling away in Cas's deformed, degraded, disintegrating body. A corpse being ridden like a virus.
