Clad in a tight black dress and high heels, a young blonde woman approached a large gate to a mansion with her arms wrapped around her body in an attempt to keep warm. She pressed the button on the speaker, a male voice drifting out a moment later.

"Hello?"

"Hello. My car broke down. I—I need some help," the blonde said, leaning forward to speak into the device.

"I'll be down in a minute."

The young woman turned around to wait, glancing towards the blonde Nephilim lurking in the bushes. She winked at the young woman, letting her know that she was doing good. Cassandra Moore had only just met Jo Harvelle a day earlier but they had become good friends already.

The gate swung open and Jo stepped inside a few feet, watching as two men in suits started to approach. The blond one grinned at Jo.

"Evening, pretty lady. Get yourself on in here," he told her. Jo managed a smile and shook her head.

"I just need to make a call," she replied. The man shook his head, the grin shifting into a smirk. Cassandra pulled the angel blade from her jeans, ready to attack if needed.

Castiel had found the demon Crowley who possessed the Colt, but he hadn't been able to get in due to the Enochian wardings. Luckily, Cassandra's able to get in because she's more human than she is angel. The team of Hunters were thankful for that.

"You don't need to call anyone, baby," the blond man said. He glanced back at his partner before looking back to Jo. "We're the only help you're ever gonna need." Jo's smile fell and she started to step back.

"You know what? I think I should wait by my car." Jo turned to leave when the man grabbed her shoulder, his eyes flickering to a coal black. Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him, rage pumping through her veins as she watched him tighten his grip on Jo's shoulder.

"We said, get your ass in here," he growled lowly. Jo managed to slip out of his grasp and land a punch to his jaw, sending him to the ground. The second man in the back was greeted with a demon blade to the neck by Sam Winchester behind him, his body flickering between orange and yellow before Sam yanked the blade out and threw him to the ground.

Cassandra glanced around to make sure no one else was coming before stepping out from the bushes and walking straight through the gate, the Enochian sigils hardly weakening her. The Nephilim bent down and yanked the first demon up from the ground, driving her blade through his chest.

"Nice work, Jo," Dean said, handing the blonde Huntress a green bag.

"Thanks," Jo replied as she pulled out a pair of wire cutters. She looked up to Dean and Sam as Cassandra joined the trio. "Okay. Shall we?"

The group of four made their way to the generators and electricity panel, picking open the lock and swinging the door open. Jo snipped three wires and they all focused their attention on the windows as the lights flickered out. Dean glanced over to his girlfriend.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, referring to her powers. Cassandra's eyes glowed a deep blue and she looked up to Dean, nodding. "Grace is working. Good. Let's go gut ourselves a demon." Sam, Dean, and Cassandra all made their way inside, Cassandra with a can of spray paint in hand. She had requested the honors of painting the devil's trap on the bottom of the carpet and Dean granted it, knowing she was desperate to do something out in the field.

Upon hearing approaching footsteps, Cassandra finished up the devil's trap and gently laid the rug back down, careful not to smudge the paint. She slid the can back into the duffel bag and pulled out her angel blade. Crowley entered the room a moment later, glancing around.

"It's Crowley, right?" Sam asked. The demon's lips curled into a smirk.

"So, the Hardy Boys finally found me. Took you long enough," he replied.

Sam was armed with Ruby's knife and Dean with a shotgun, Cassandra's fist clenching around the angel blade in her grasp. The trio watched with anticipation as Crowley started to approach them but stopped, eyeing the rumpled rug. Cassandra hadn't had time to flatten it out enough and she had just prayed that he wouldn't notice. Her eyes followed his movements as he lifted the rug, scowling at the devil's trap.

"Do you have any idea how much this rug cost?" Crowley snapped. Two demons grabbed Sam and Dean from behind, disarming them of their weapons and pinning their arms behind their backs. No one made a move towards Cassandra and she glanced around, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. The cock of a gun grabbed her attention and she turned to see Crowley holding the Colt. "This is it, right? This is what it's all about." Crowley turned and aimed the gun at Dean, the Hunter's eyes widening.

Cassandra moved to step forward when Crowley turned to the left slightly, shooting both his men in the head. Their bodies flickered orange and yellow before collapsing to the ground, the trio staring up at the demon in shock.

"We need to talk. Privately."

Sam, Dean, and Cassandra all exchanged glances as Crowley lead them into what seemed to be an office, the door slamming shut behind them. Cassandra paid no mind to the door, her gaze locked on the Colt in fear. That gun could kill her, and every demon and angel wanted her dead.

"What the hell is this?" Cassandra demanded.

"Do you know how deep I could have buried this thing?" Crowley questioned, holding up the Colt. "There's no reason you or anyone should know this even exists...except that I told you." Cassandra scoffed, an amused smile tugging at her blood red lips.

"You told us," the Nephilim repeated.

"Rumors, innuendo, sent out on the grapevine."

"Why? Why tell us anything?" Cassandra questioned. Crowley aimed the Colt at Cassandra and her eyes widened. Dean glanced between the two uneasily as Cassandra's fingers curled around the hilt of her blade. She wasn't sure what to do. "You really don't want to do that, Crowley." The demon arched an eyebrow.

"Why? Because you're some big bad Nephilim? Oh, Cassy, baby, I don't fear you," Crowley taunted. Cassandra scowled.

"Call me that again and I'll smite you," she spat. Crowley chuckled, lowering the gun. Cassandra's shoulders slumped in relief and she let out a small breath. Dean stayed close to the blonde.

"I'd like to see you try, sweetheart. You don't have your powers fully under control. Your training hasn't finished and it won't for a long time since it's on Earth with some lowlife angel. What does daddy say about that?" Crowley told her. Cassandra rolled her eyes and slid the angel blade back in the waistband of her jeans. "I knew you'd come along with your boyfriend and the third wheel. You're able to get in." Cassandra raised her chin slightly.

"What do you want with the Colt? It kills demons. I figured you would've melted it down by now."

Crowley raised the gun and studied it before looking back to the Nephilim.

"I want you to take this thing to Lucifer and empty it into his face."

Dean nodded and licked his lips, eyeing the gun in the demon's hand.

"Uh-huh, okay, and why exactly would you want the devil dead?" Dean asked.

"It's called—" Crowley set the Colt down on the table. "—survival." Crowley sighed at their confused expressions. "Well, I forgot you two at best are functioning morons and she's a dainty little princess who doesn't want to abide by daddy's rules," Crowley finished.

"You're functioning...morons..." Dean retorted awkwardly. Cassandra turned and stared at her boyfriend with a 'what the fuck' expression and Crowley arched an eyebrow at the Hunter. He decided not to reply to the comment and instead continued to explain his reasoning.

"Lucifer isn't a demon, remember? He's an angel. An angel famous for his hatred of humankind. To him, you're just filthy bags of pus. If that's the way he feels about you, what can he think about us?" Crowley explained.

"But he created you," Sam argued.

"To him, we're just servants. Cannon fodder. If Lucifer manages to exterminate humankind, we're next. So, help me, huh? Let's all go back to simpler, better times, back to when we could all follow our natures. I'm in sales, dammit! So what do you say if I give you this thing—" Crowley picked up the Colt and turned towards Cassandra, staring at her and only her. "—and you go kill the devil?" He held out the Colt handle first, waiting for her to take it.

The blonde hesitantly reached out and took it from his grasp, shocked that he didn't try to shoot her. Cassandra cleared her throat and nodded. "Uh, great. Thanks. Why me?"

"Because you're Michael's daughter and Michael's supposed to kill Lucifer. Although, I like you a lot better than your father," Crowley told her. Cassandra snorted and nodded in agreement.

"You and me both. You wouldn't happen to know where the devil is, by chance, would you?" Cassandra asked. Crowley nodded and turned towards his desk to grab his glass of scotch.

"Thursday, birdies tell me, there's an appointment in Carthage, Missouri," he replied. Cassandra glanced over to Dean and nodded.

"Great." She turned the gun and pointed it at him, pulling the trigger. Nothing happened and her breath hitched in her throat. Was this demon going to kill her now for trying to end him? Crowley stared at her blankly, glass of scotch in hand before nodding.

"Oh, yeah, right, you'll probably need some more ammunition," Crowley told the Nephilim as if she hadn't just tried to kill him. Cassandra turned to Dean with wide eyes as Crowley circled around to his desk and started to dig through drawers.

"Oh, uh, excuse me for asking," Dean said. "But aren't you kind of signing your own death warrant? I mean, what happens to you if we go up against the devil and lose?"

Crowley looked up, narrowing his eyes at the Hunter. Cassandra shifted uncomfortably on her feet, awkwardly clearing her throat.

"Number one, he's going to wipe us all out anyway. Two, after you leave here, I go on an extended vacation to all points nowhere," Crowley started quickly. "And three, how about you don't miss, okay? Morons!" The demon was yelling by now and Cassandra flinched at the volume of his voice. Crowley threw a small pouch at Cassandra who caught it effortlessly, sending the demon a wary glance before opening it up. Her eyebrows raised at the sight of two sleeves of bullets meant for the Colt.

Cassandra looked up to thank the demon, but with a wink from Crowley he was gone. Sam sighed, Dean scowled, and Cassandra frowned. Just who the hell was Crowley and what type of demon was he?

The Nephilim thought back to the last demon who claimed to help them and gulped at the memory. Ruby. She had only met her once, but she knew that Sam had put everything he had into her and it blew up in their face. What if Crowley was the same way?

"Let's get out of here," Dean said, watching as Sam slid the Colt in his jacket. Cassandra nodded in agreement and handed the bullets to Dean who leaned down and pecked her on the lips. He frowned at her hesitation and pulled away. "What's wrong?"

"What if he's like Ruby?" Cassandra asked quietly. She made sure that they kept their distance from Sam as they conversed. "You guys trusted Ruby and because of that Lucifer has risen. What if Crowley is double-crossing us just as that bitch did? I mean, Ruby was the one to get the Colt to work the first time, right?" Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head.

"We're not trusting this Crowley, okay? He wants you to gank Lucifer and you'll do just that."

"I'm scared. You didn't see him, Dean. The way he looked at me and what he offered..." The blonde trailed off, her voice shaking. "I don't know if I can do it. A demon's one thing but the Devil? We may have met Lucifer in twenty-fourteen but he was different then. Now he's...he scares me, Dean. I think Crowley's putting too much faith in me. What if I miss? What if I just piss him off and—" Dean leaned down and placed his lips on Cassandra's, cutting her off instantly. She kissed back, frowning slightly when Dean pulled away. He reached out and grabbed both of her shoulders, staring her dead in the eye.

"Cassy?"

"Yeah?"

"If anyone can kill the Devil then it's you. You're the world's ultimate weapon, right? You're the one that Heaven and Hell both want?" Cassandra nodded slowly, unsure of where her boyfriend was taking this. "Michael believes that you can kill Lucifer. I do, too. I'll be with you the whole time."

"That doesn't help me, Dean! He could kill you!"

"And he could kill anyone he wanted, Cassy. It doesn't matter. You are going to take the Colt and send a bullet through his brain. Got it?" Cassandra licked her lips and nodded. The couple started to walk again, catching up with Sam. Dean snaked an arm around her waist and let her rest her head on his shoulder. "You want revenge for Jess? This is revenge. Everything that lead up to her death was to let Lucifer out and ganking that son of a bitch is the way to justify her death. I know Azazel wasn't enough for Sam and it didn't make me feel much better about Mom. Lucifer will be your vengeance."

"How do you have so much faith in me?"

"Because you're Cassandra Moore, Princess of the Angels. You can do anything." Cassandra couldn't help but chuckle and glanced down, letting her blonde locks frame her face and hide the red tint that Dean had caused. Dean planted a kiss on the top of her head and smiled. "You'll do great. I promise."

~*~

Five full shot glasses were lined up in front of Castiel, four empty ones placed in front of Ellen Harvelle. She set the last one down. Empty.

Jo took a swig of her beer and watched, Cassandra eyeing her own beer warily. She was still hesitant around alcohol after what happened at the mansion but she tried not to let it show. Only Dean and Castiel noticed.

"Alright, big boy. Let's go," Ellen said to Cas, challenging him. Cas sighed.

"Well..." One after the other, Cas threw back the shots before slamming his last glass down. Ellen's eyebrows raised in impression and Jo gawked at the angel with wide eyes. "I think I'm starting to feel something," Castiel said. Jo grinned and laughed, a small smile working its way to Cassandra's blood red lips. Cas glanced over at the Nephilim and flashed a warm smile at her. He had been informed of Crowley's wishes for Cassandra to kill Lucifer and, much to Cassandra's surprise, the angel actually agreed. It had to be Cassandra.

The blonde got up and excused herself, making her way to the Winchesters who sat on opposite sides of Bobby's desk, their own beer bottles in their grasp. Dean grinned at the presence of the Nephilim and pulled her in his lap, earning a small giggle.

"Drunk yet?" Dean questioned. Cassandra licked her lips and shook her head.

"Not even the world's biggest lightweight could get drunk off of half a sip," Cassandra replied. Dean frowned slightly and eyed her full beer bottle. Cassandra cleared her throat and set it on the desktop, her eyes skimming over the map that Dean had been holding.

"It's gotta be a trap, right?" Sam asked, completely ignoring the couple's conversation. Dean looked up, an amused smile playing on his lips.

"Sam Winchester, having trust issues with a demon. Well, better late than never," Dean teased. Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes, holding his bottle out towards Dean.

"Thank you again for your continued support," he told his older brother sarcastically.

"You're welcome." They clinked bottled and each took a swig, Cassandra's focus returning to the map. She wasn't exactly sure what she was reading. Missouri. The main focus was Carthage. Was that really where the Devil was hiding? "You know, trap or no trap, we got a snowball's chance, we gotta take it, right?" Dean said, setting the map down on the table between his and Cassandra's beers. Sam shrugged, nodding.

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Besides, I'm not sure it is a trap. Check it out. I mean, Carthage is lit up like a Christmas tree with Revelation omens. And look at this." Dean pushed a few papers towards his brother. The Nephilim recognized them as missing persons flyers. She had always seen new and old ones around campus. Girls would get drunk and the boys and perverts would take advantage and then they were never seen again. Cassandra's throat ran dry at the distant memory of a frat party she had been invited to. She quickly pushed it out of her mind and focused on the conversation at hand.

"There's been six missing persons reported, in town, since Sunday. I think the Devil's there," Dean said.

"Okay."

Dean sighed and leaned forward, lowering his voice even more. "Look, when you think about it...you can't come with." Sam rolled his eyes at his brother.

"Dean—"

"Look, I go against Satan and screw the pooch, okay. We've lost a game piece. That we can take." Cassandra's gaze dropped to the desk. "But if you're there, then we are handing the Devil's vessel right over to him plus the fact that Cassandra would be there, too; the only person he wants more than you. That's not smart," Dean said.

"Since when have we ever done anything smart?" Sam retorted. Cassandra snorted, nodding in agreement. In her time with the Winchesters she had found that she was the more logical of the three despite her lack of knowledge of the supernatural.

"I'm serious, Sam."

"So am I. Haven't we learned a damn thing? If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it together." Sam and Dean stared at each other for a long moment. Dean was the first to look away.

"Okay," he gave in with a sigh. "But it's a stupid frigging idea." At the sound of laughter, Dean looked past Sam and furrowed his eyebrows at Castiel, Ellen, and Jo and their drinking competition. Sam followed his gaze.

"Boy, talk about stupid ideas," Sam mused.

"Good God. True, that," Dean agreed. Sam got up and made his way towards the table to join in, leaving Cassandra and Dean alone. The Hunter shifted slightly to look at the blonde, gaining her attention. She raised her eyebrows in curiosity at his smirk. "So, dangerous mission tomorrow. Guess it's time to eat, drink, and, you know, make merry." Cassandra stared back at him blankly for a moment before it clicked.

"Are you giving me the last-night-on-earth speech?" she questioned.

"What?"

"What?"

"No," Dean denied quickly. They held gazes for a moment before laughing, Cassandra shaking her head and taking a half of a sip of her beer. Dean cleared his throat and arched an eyebrow. "If I was, would, uh, would that work?"

Cassandra leaned in for a kiss, fingering the hem of his shirt, before stopping abruptly. "No. Honey, if this is our last night on earth then I'm going to spend it with a little thing I call self-respect," Cassandra whispered, her gaze drifting from his lips up to his eyes. She could smell the beer on his breath and she wanted nothing more than to taste it.

"If you're into that kind of thing," Dean grumbled. Cassandra grinned and planted her lips on his. Her hand slipped up his shirt, running over his abs. Dean reached around and squeezed her ass without warning, earning a small gasp from the blonde. He chuckled against her lips but she only shook her head. Suddenly smirking, Cassandra started to trail kisses along Dean's jawline before working her way down his neck. He groaned and closed his eyes. "You tease," Dean whined.

"You love it," Cassandra said with a roll of her eyes. Dean sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, you're right," the Hunter admitted. Cassandra's hands lifted to his hair, running through them and tugging at the ends lightly as Dean's fingers dug into her waist. She arched her back and pressed herself against him, turning her head to the side as he started to kiss down her neck, sucking on her exposed collarbone.

"No, you're gonna leave a mark," she hissed quietly. Dean didn't stop. She only felt his lips press against her skin harder as he smirked. "You're such an ass."

"You love it," he mocked. She rolled her eyes but nodded in defeat. She did love everything Dean did. Dean trailed back up to her lips, his green eyes fluttering closed as he kissed her slowly and passionately. The last time Dean had kissed her like that was the night of the crash with Ruby. He had been too scared of hurting her or scaring her off. Now it was just to savor the moment before they went out to risk their asses hunting Lucifer.

"Get a room you two!" Ellen called out from the kitchen. Cassandra threw her head back and laughed while Dean only rolled his eyes. "It may be our last night but that doesn't mean we want a full show!"

"You were the one watching!" Dean yelled back, never taking his eyes off of Cassandra who grinned up at him. Ellen grumbled something that Dean didn't understand, but Cassandra heard it clearly and snickered. "What'd she say?"

"I'll never tell," Cassandra whispered, leaning forward. Dean's eyes wandered over her face before he slipped his hands up her shirt, tickling her sides as he nuzzled his face in her neck; her most ticklish spot. Cassandra started to laugh, squirming in Dean's lap. "Stop! Oh my god, stop! You're so mean!" she squealed, earning everyone's attention from the kitchen.

Dean only continued to tickle his girlfriend, making her laugh even harder. He enjoyed the sound of her laugh. It was something he didn't hear much since she was always so hesitant considering it was one of her beacons. Ever since Michael and Raphael had found her she kept to herself and stayed away from jokes and sarcastic retorts.

Sam smiled at the sight of the happy couple, glad that they finally found something in life to enjoy. Bobby's expression mimicked the younger Winchester's, cocking his head to the side as he studied them. They were...happy.

Dean's fingertips danced over Cassandra's sides and she could feel him chuckle against her neck. She gasped for breath a few times, her stomach twisting from laughing so hard.

"What is this revenge for?" she asked between laughs.

"For being such a tease," he said so that only she could hear him. Dean snuck a kiss on her neck, momentarily distracting her from the tickling of her sides. "And you haven't let me do this since the night we first kissed."

"When my father shows up he'll kick your ass, Dean Winchester," Cassandra said the moment Dean's fingers retreated from her sides. She panted as she struggled to catch her breath, grinning at the Hunter.

"Bring it on. I'm sure I can take an old man."

"He whooped my ass."

"You're not skilled."

"Ouch," Cassandra said, placing a hand against her chest in mock offence. "That hurt, Winchester." She snickered and leaned forward, pecking him on the lips.

"Everybody get in here!" Bobby yelled out. Cassandra twisted around to see the older Hunter in his wheelchair as he fiddled with an old camera. Sam entered just before Ellen who rolled her eyes. "It's time for the lineup. Usual suspects in the corner."

"Oh come on, Bobby. Nobody wants their picture taken," Ellen told him.

"Hear, hear," Sam agreed. Cassandra swung her leg over Dean's lap and got up, her boyfriend joining her with the rest of the crowd in the middle of the room.

"Shut up. You're drinking my beer," Bobby retorted. Cassandra chuckled and shook her head, taking her place next to Dean. Dean reached up and tickled the back of her neck, earning a squeal. She turned and smacked his chest. Dean grunted in return as every laughed. Cassandra stood between the Winchesters, Sam's arm draped over her shoulder as Dean's snuck around her waist. Jo was on the other side of Dean, Ellen between Sam and Castiel.

Bobby finished messing with the camera on the tripod and rolled his wheelchair straight back, stopping in front of Jo who rested an arm on his shoulder.

"Anyway, I'm gonna need something to remember your sorry asses by," Bobby added as everyone smiled for the picture.

"Ha! Always good to have an optimist around," Ellen joked. Cassandra and Castiel both sighed.

"Bobby's right. Tomorrow we hunt the devil. This is our last night on earth," Cas said. Everyone's smiles fell and they stared back at the camera solemnly, Dean's grip around Cassandra's waist tightening.

The timer on the camera ticked down. The flash went off.

Neither of them were ready to lose each other when they had just gotten together. They'd do everything in their power to fight and stay alive. Sam, Dean, and Cassandra made a promise that night. No matter what happened, they'd make sure everyone got out before themselves. If the angels truly relied on the three Hunters then they'd make sure they stayed alive.

Cassandra and Dean quickly snuck off upstairs, Dean tugging her into his room and kicking the door shut before slipping off her leather jacket. "Dean, I told you—"

"And that's not what we're doing," he interrupted. The blonde furrowed her eyebrows and watched as he walked over to the closet, digging through a box before pulling out a white leather journal. Cassandra's breath hitched in her throat at the sight. Dean ran his hand over the cover before looking up. "Between the time Gabriel trapped us in TV Land and you found us, Sam and I made a pitstop at your apartment. We grabbed little things that may mean something to you like your textbooks, pictures, your old speaker...and this."

"Did you read it?" Cassandra asked quietly as he unclasped the buckle on the cover. Dean licked his lips and nodded.

"Before you get mad, it was only a few pages. It fell open from your closet and I saw an entry from January. You know, a couple of months before we found you," Dean explained. Cassandra nodded slowly, unsure of where this was going. She wrote in her journal almost everyday so she had no idea what Dean could've read. "It was on January twenty-fourth." Cassandra's face fell.

"Oh."

Dean walked towards her as his eyes skimmed over the page before he grabbed her left arm, turning it so that her forearm faced up. He ran his thumb along a white horizontal scar that intersected with the suicide attempt.

"You didn't have as many scars, I noticed. Just eight horizontal lines all strategically placed down your forearm. I wasn't sure if they were self-harm since there weren't many but then I found this." Dean held up the notebook. "And now I know what they mean. And I know that if we survive this, one more will be added in a few weeks."

"Dean, I—"

"I'm not asking you to explain yourself and I'm not mad either." Cassandra pressed her lips in a thin line. "I understand. The pain is too much to bear on those two days of the year and you just become numb. This helps remind you that you're still alive."

"Yeah."

"Do you plan on doing it on January twenty-fourth?"

Cassandra didn't hesitate.

"Yes."

"Don't. For me. Whether I make it out of this alive or not, don't do it. I know that it's just a knick compared to what we get on the daily, but I'm asking you not to do it. Consider it a gift to me. That's all I want," Dean requested. The blonde furrowed her eyebrows, cocking her head to the side.

"I don't understand. A gift?"

"January twenty-fourth, nineteen-seventeen-nine...my birthday," Dean whispered. Cassandra's face fell and she stared back at Dean in shock. She didn't realize he had never told her his birthday, just as she had never told him hers. It wasn't on the medical records they managed to access and she assumed the only one who knew it was Bobby and maybe Castiel. "It's all I want."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Cassandra nodded. "I won't do it. If that's what you want then I won't do it. I promise." A relieved smile crossed Dean's lips and he let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding before dropping her arm. He closed the journal and handed it to her.

"Thank you." She nodded curtly. "Why don't we get some sleep? We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow and you and I need to be at our best," Dean suggested. Cassandra licked her lips and nodded, her gaze dropping to the journal before looking back to Dean.

"Yeah. Just give me a minute." Without another word Cassandra left the room, swiping a pen off of the desk in the process. She quietly shut the door behind her and leaned against the wall, sliding down until she reached the floor. She sucked in a sharp breath and uncapped the old pen and opened up her journal. Castiel was right. This was their last night on Earth and Cassandra didn't plan on making it back. She flipped to the first blank page and began writing.

Dear Dean,

In the chance that I don't come back from Carthage, Missouri and you do, I wanted to leave you this. I know we aren't far in our relationship as we're truly only a couple of weeks in, but you deserve something that could be considered my last words to you that don't end in blood and tears at the Devil's hands.

When we first met at my apartment, you caught me at the worst time. I had been studying for a week straight, dodged every call from my mom, and had five essays to write that were all due on the same day. Yes, I did, in fact, get them done and turned in the day before you arrived. The only thing that seemed to keep me sane was music and I can remember the song that was playing when you knocked on my door. Since then, Night Moves has been stuck in my head for better or worse. You seemed like a great guy, one I had hoped to see more since we clicked instantly. That was before the demon and Castiel showed up.

At each other's throats for weeks, I started to lose hope in everything. In school, in you and Sam, in Castiel, in my future; I lost hope in life altogether. I'll admit, you scared me after I tried to run but ultimately I understood why. I was your responsibility and you almost lost me. It wasn't until the day I found out about my mom and Michelle that I realized you had a horror story much like mine. Suddenly your actions made sense. They became clearer the night we first kissed.

Despite the events of that day what with Ruby and the stitches, you had managed to make my night. You managed to make me feel like I was loved and that I belonged, even if it was only for a few hours. I slept peacefully for the first time in years that night and I know that you had also slept soundly for the first time in months. I was awake longer than you think.

I never thought my life would turn into this. I mean we had been thrown into 2014 by Zachariah and we saw our future selves. That's not something most people can say they did. And although it was a horrible future that I would never wish for, it brought me some peace knowing that we somehow managed to keep things together long enough to get married and attempt the life we dream about.

I know this note seems pointless at the moment, but there's one main reason behind it:

I don't plan on coming back.

If I take my shot at Lucifer and succeed then Heaven will hunt me down and want me as their ultimate weapon, one that can take down any threat thrown at Man. I don't want you, Sam, and Bobby to get caught in the middle of that.

If I take my shot at Lucifer and fail then I know that, without a doubt, he will either kill me or get the jump on me and drag me down to Hell with or without him. He's made it clear that I'm now an enemy and nothing will change that.

When I watched Lucifer take my future-self's Grace I knew for sure in that moment that if I were to die, it'd be taking down the Devil once and for all and I wouldn't stop until it happened.

From what I can tell and according to Bobby and the way Sam looks at us, I somehow make you happy. I don't know how or why considering I'm the worst person you could get as a girlfriend or any type of companion, but I'll take it as a compliment. I'm sorry that I don't plan on coming back and I know you wouldn't approve which is why you won't read this until the battle in Carthage is over. I've given Bobby directions to give this to you if you come back without me.

There's not much more that I can say from here besides this; Dean Winchester, you're the best thing that's happened to me in seven years and I couldn't have asked for a better man to call my boyfriend. I'm sorry it may end this way but it's just how it has to be. I'm not putting you or anyone else at risk anymore.

In the chance I don't get to tell you in person, I've come to realize that I love you. Now, it may not be the 'fifty-year couple I'm in love with you' love you, but I do feel something more than a normal attraction to you. Maybe Michael was right. Maybe we are 'destined' to be together. I guess we'll never know. Until next time...

—Cassandra

The Nephilim sighed and flipped the ribbon over the first page of the note as a bookmark and closed the journal. She jumped up and raced down the stairs to find Bobby alone. Everyone else had turned in for the night. Bobby twisted around at the sound of her footsteps and furrowed his eyebrows at the blonde.

"Girl, shouldn't you be asleep?" Bobby asked. Cassandra sucked in a sharp breath and nodded before handing the white leather journal to the Hunter. "What's this?"

"If I don't make it back from Carthage and Dean does—"

"Cassandra," Bobby warned.

"—then I want you to give this to him. It's a note and it'll explain everything to him when he gets back." Bobby eyed the Nephilim warily. "He's coming back, Bobby. I don't care if I have to die for it to happen, Dean's coming home," Cassandra said sternly. Bobby glanced down at the journal as he took it from her grasp. He eyed it in thought before looking up at the blonde.

"Cassandra?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you plan on coming back from Carthage?"

She stared back at Bobby blankly.

"People don't write notes on a 'maybe'. They write them when they're sure they won't see someone again. What exactly do you think will happen tomorrow?"

"No, I don't plan on coming back. I never did." Bobby sighed and shook his head at her words. Cassandra quickly spoke before he could cut in again. "I'm the one who's supposed to take down Lucifer if Michael can't. Angel Radio doesn't seem too worried on Lucifer's arrival in Carthage and Michael doesn't have his true vessel...and he won't. Ever. I'm hoping to end this tomorrow."

"And what happens when you come back and Dean gets nosy and finds the note?" Bobby demanded, holding up the journal. The look in Cassandra's eyes said it all. Bobby didn't even have to read the note to understand. Bobby glanced around the room to make sure they were alone before leaning forward and lowering his voice. "Do you understand what it will do to Dean when you don't come back whether you guys are successful or not? He's finally found someone to make him happy and you're about to throw it all away! Do you even care about him?"

"Of course I do!" Cassandra yelled.

"Then why would you plan to leave him right when things got good? This will destroy him, Cassandra! You dying is one thing but when you leave he will break. You think he hates himself now? Imagine how he'll feel when you leave and he thinks he wasn't good enough for you. How would you feel if Dean did that to you?" Bobby sneered, almost yelling. Cassandra prayed that he hadn't woken anyone up. The last thing they needed was for Sam or Dean to walk in at that moment.

"I've had people leave me without notice, Bobby. Honestly, it'd just be another person gone in my life. You can't compare me to Dean like this."

"You're smart, Cassandra. Strong. I've never met anyone who's as strong as you. You've been through so much since in just the past seven years and now you're going to let Lucifer's life determine Dean's happiness? You're not who I thought you were." Cassandra could see the disappointment in Bobby's eyes and she did her best to force back the tears that threatened to fall. She wouldn't let herself cry. Not in front of him.

"Heaven will hunt me if I make it out alive."

"They'll hunt all of us either way! We've got a rogue angel on our side, Michael's daughter and vessel, Lucifer's vessel, and the one weapon that could kill the angels. Of course they'll hunt us!"

"If they have me then they won't want the Colt or Castiel or even Sam and Dean." Cassandra's voice cracked. She did her best to cover it up but she knew that Bobby still caught it. He studied the girl before scoffing, shaking his head.

"If you make it out then you plan on saying yes. You plan on siding with Heaven."

"I never said that."

"You're pretty much implying it."

"You think I want to work with those bastards? They killed my mom!" Cassandra shouted. Bobby recoiled at her words. He had known that her mom was killed but he never knew by what. "Trust me, leaving is the last thing I want to do."

"Then suck it up and stay," Bobby growled lowly. "We've made it this far, we can make it out of this if we fight. Whatever suicide note you just wrote, rip it up and burn it. You're coming back with Dean. He's not going to just leave you and let you go." Cassandra took a step back.

"I'm sorry, but I can't. Just...just get the journal to Dean when he comes back tomorrow. Please." With that, Cassandra turned and raced up the stairs before Bobby could get out another word. He watched the Nephilim retreat in disbelief, shaking his head.

"Girl, you are nine kinds of crazy to believe that boy doesn't love you," Bobby muttered before wheeling to his room, journal resting in his lap. "I better see your ass in my house with the rest of the group or I'm gonna be mighty pissed."

Cassandra quietly nudged open the bedroom door. Dean sat up, squinting in the dark as he struggled to make out Cassandra's face. But she could see him and his features perfectly. She noticed that he was shirtless and she figured that he was only in boxers, his normal sleeping attire for when they were crashing at Bobby's.

"Cassy?" Dean asked groggily. She smiled slightly and closed the door behind her. "What was all that yelling?" Cassandra shook her head and pulled her shirt over her head.

"Don't worry about it. Just a petty argument with Bobby about me wasting beer," she lied smoothly, kicking off her jeans. She grabbed the flannel that Dean had left out for her and slipped it on before climbing in bed next to the Hunter. She curled into his side, resting her head on his bare chest.

"Are you sure?" Dean inquired. Cassandra nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, it was nothing to worry about." Cassandra couldn't help the tear that escaped and she wiped it away before it could hit Dean's chest and he could realize she was crying. Unfortunately more tears came until they were streaming down her cheek. It was her sniffle that gave it away. Dean turned his head to the blonde and frowned.

"Are you crying?"

"No."

"Liar." Cassandra rolled her lower lip between her teeth. "What's wrong? What's got you so worked up?" Cassandra stayed silent. "You can tell me, you know that," Dean added softly. She nodded, her fingers digging into the sheets beneath her.

"Yeah, no, I know. It's nothing. Just go to sleep."

"Cassy—"

"We have a long day tomorrow, Dean. Sleep." Her voice was sharp and harsh and Dean got the message instantly. He nodded and ran his fingers through her hair until he fell asleep, knowing she enjoyed the feeling. Cassandra ended up falling asleep that night but not for a couple of hours. She stayed up and ran through every possible scenario of the day ahead of her. For some reason she just couldn't see herself coming back.

Part of Cassandra truly didn't want to die. She had found a few reasons to live now that she was apart of the hunting family, but it wasn't worth the risk of the world. If she died then she died. But maybe Bobby was right. Maybe Cassandra would find a way to come back with Sam and Dean. Maybe her disappearance or death would break Dean. But she could never know for sure until it actually happened. And that day in Carthage, Missouri had changed everyone's lives...and it wasn't for the better.