"Place has been in the family for years," Mary explained as the group of five made their way into an old house. The paint was peeling from the walls and Cassandra could smell the faint scent of mold and must with a hint of rotting wood. She wrinkled her nose at the dusty floorboards as Mary flipped on a lightswitch. The Winchester lifted up the edge of a round carpet to reveal a familiar symbol painted in red. "Devil's trap. Pure iron fixtures, of course."

Mary flipped on another lightswitch, watching as everyone surveyed the place. "Um, there should be salt and holy water in the pantry, knives, guns," she told Sam and Dean. Sam scoffed.

"All that stuff will do is piss it off," he told her. Mary frowned slightly.

"So, what will kill it? Or slow it down, at least?"

"Not much. Cassandra's not at full power and she doesn't exactly have Heaven on her side at the moment," Sam replied. Cassandra rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

"I never did," she grunted, crossing her arms over her chest. Mary let out a laugh and shook her head.

"Great."

"He said not much, not nothing," Dean chimed in. He raised the green duffel bag that Castiel had packed for them before they left. "We packed." Dean gently set the bag down on the table and unzipped it, pulling out a folded piece of paper. "If we put this up and she comes close—" Dean unfolded the paper and turned it towards Mary so that she could see the angel banishing sigil. "—we beam her right off the starship."

Sam pulled one of the ceramic jars from the bag and held it up. "This is holy oil. It's kind of like a, like a devil's trap for angels. Come on. I'll show you how it works," Sam said, nodding towards the other room. He left but Mary lingered, her gaze on John, before she followed. John hesitated, eyeing the paper before stepping forward. Cassandra took a step back and moved to the other side of Dean.

"Hey, what's the deal with the thing on the paper?" John questioned, gesturing to the paper in Cassandra's grasp.

"It's a sigil. That means—" John cut Dean off.

"I don't care what it means. Where does it go?" he snapped.

"On a wall or a door," Dean replied.

"How big should I make it?"

"John—"

"What? Y'all might have treated me like a fool, but I am not useless. I can draw a damn—" John snatched the paper from her grasp. It wasn't hard considering the blonde tensed when he reached forward and she let him take it swiftly. "—whatever it is—a sigil," he finished.

"Why don't you go help Sam out? Okay?" Dean suggested. "'Cause this has got to be done in...it's got to be done in human blood." John eyed the knife on the table before picking it up and unsheathing it, slicing his left palm open. A bit of blood dripped onto the table before he looked up.

"So, how big?"

"I'll show you." Dean chuckled a bit, shaking his head. John looked up, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What?"

"All of a sudden, you...you really remind me of my dad."

Cassandra cleared her throat, grabbing Dean's attention. He glanced over to his girlfriend. "What should I do? I don't know if my blood will work since I'm not completely human," she said. John eyed her warily.

"What are you anyways?" he asked. Cassandra's gaze shifted over to the Winchester.

"Uh, I'm a Nephilim. It's an angel with a human soul. My father's Michael and my mom was human," Cassandra explained. John frowned slightly.

"'Was'?" he repeated. Cassandra nodded sadly, tapping her knuckles on the tabletop twice.

"Yeah. An angel killed her and my best friend not that long ago and a demon killed my sister." John's face fell. Cassandra cleared her throat, quickly regaining her composure as she forced a smile on her lips. "But it's okay now. They're happy in Heaven and they know I'm okay." John nodded slowly, unsure of how to react to her words. It wasn't exactly something you heard everyday.

"You can hang with John and I," Dean told her, referring back to her original question. "We could use your help, especially since you're armed and I gave the blade to Sam." The blonde nodded and followed the two over to the window.

~*~

Dean and Cassandra stood out on the porch of the old house, Cassandra's hands tucked inside her pockets as the chilly night air nipped at her skin. Dean raised his eyebrows, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Alright. Talk. What is it with John that's got you so jumpy?" Dean asked. The blonde sighed and shook her head, running a hand through her hair.

"The first time Michael took me to Heaven, the way I saw him wasn't the way his vessel is that he uses when he pays visits," Cassandra started. Dean furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head.

"Of course not. You see his true face."

"Not in the beginning, I didn't. He looked like John, Dean. Exactly like this version of John and now I'm just waiting for him to toss me around like a rag doll until I say yes. It's a stupid fear but after everything that's happened...I can't help it," Cassandra explained. Dean sighed and ran a hand down his face, glancing towards the house before looking back to his girlfriend.

"Cassy, John won't hurt you."

"I know that, Dean, but the memory is burned in my brain. I still have nightmares about that day and seeing John doesn't help." Dean frowned.

"You're still having nightmares?" Cassandra looked away after realizing she had slipped up. "Princess, I thought those stopped when we got together," Dean said. She nodded, her voice cracking as she spoke.

"And they did...until Carthage. After that it was like whatever progress I had made just disappeared and I was back to square one. I've barely slept because every time I close my eyes I see Lucifer or I see those Hellhounds getting Jo. I can still hear the explosion. It's haunting. It's all piling up and I'm just waiting to break. I'm too far gone," Cassandra told him. Dean reached out and cupped her cheek. Cassandra nuzzled her cheek in his hand, her eyes fluttering closed at the warmth he sent radiating throughout her body.

"You're not too far gone, baby. If I can come back after everything I've been through then so can you. Let's just get through this, save my parents, and then we can go home and find a way to relax and help you, okay?" Dean told her softly. Cassandra nodded, opening her eyes to see Dean smiling down at her in a loving way.

"Okay," she whispered.

"Let's go see if they need any help."

The couple headed inside, Dean wrapping a towel around his left hand from the blood sigils. Mary stopped pouring holy oil and looked up upon hearing their footsteps. "Okay. You said you'd explain everything when we had a minute. We have a minute. Why does an angel want me dead?" Mary demanded. Dean glanced over at the other room as he leaned against the doorway before looking back to his mother.

"'Cause they're dicks."

Mary chuckled and shook her head. "Not good enough. I didn't even know they existed, and now I'm a target?" Dean sighed.

"It's complicated," Dean said.

"Fine." Mary set down the jar of holy oil and stood up, holding her arms out around her as gesture of listening. "All ears." Dean glanced away for a moment before returning his gaze to the blonde.

"You're just gonna have to trust me, okay?"

"I've been trusting you all day," Mary snapped.

"It's kind of hard to believe," Dean reasoned.

"All right, then. I'm walking out the door." Mary began to turn away when Dean blurted out three words that completely flipped Mary's world upside down:

"I'm your son."

Mary stopped and turned back to Dean, raising her eyebrows. "What?" she asked, unsure if she had heard him right.

"I'm your son," Dean repeated. Dean chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Sorry. I don't know how else to say it. We're from the year two-thousand-and-ten. An angel zapped us back here. Not the one that attacked you—friendlier." Cassandra stepped forward, taking Dean's side.

"He's not lying." Mary looked over to the blonde. "It's true. I helped the angel and let him channel my power. My name is Cassandra Moore and I'm a Nephilim. My father is the Archangel Michael," she explained. Mary's lips parted slightly as she glanced between the two, shaking her head.

"You can't expect me to believe that," she said slowly.

"Our names are Dean and Sam Winchester. We're named after your parents." Dean licked his lips. "When I would get sick, you would make me tomato-rice soup, because that's what your mom made you. And instead of a lullaby, you would sing 'Hey Jude', 'cause that's your favorite Beatles song," Dean told her. Mary's eyes started to tear up and she shook her head, refusing to accept Dean's and Cassandra's words. She couldn't accept it only because of the fact that he and Sam were Hunters.

"I...I don't believe it. No," Mary denied, her voice cracking.

"I'm sorry, but it's true."

"I raised my kids to be hunters?" Mary asked, her voice coated in disgust. Cassandra's gaze dropped to the floor and her heart broke for the woman. She hated this life and to learn that her own kids had become part of it...Cassandra couldn't even imagine how she felt.

"No. No, you didn't."

"How could I do that to you?"

"You didn't do it," Dean said. "Because you're dead." Mary's blue eyes widened and she recoiled at his words. Dean glanced over to Cassandra before looking back to his mother.

"What? What happened?" Mary questioned breathlessly.

"Yellow-eyed demon," Dean said simply. "He killed you, and—" The Hunter glanced towards the doorway, lowering his voice slightly. "John became a hunter to get revenge. He raised us in this life. Listen to me." Mary looked up and Dean hesitated slightly before continuing. "A demon comes into Sam's nursery exactly six months after he's born. November second, nineteen eighty-three. Remember that date. And whatever you do, do not go in there. You wake up that morning and you take Sam and you run."

"That's not good enough, Dean." Dean, Mary, and Cassandra all turned to see Sam standing in the doorway. "Wherever she goes, the demon's gonna find her. Find me."

"Well, then what?" Cassandra questioned. Sam sighed, shaking his head.

"She can leave Dad. That's what." Dean's eyebrows rose in shock and he turned to look at Cassandra whose lips parted slightly in disbelief. He directed his attention to Mary. "You got to leave John."

"What?" Mary asked.

"When this is all over, walk away, and never look back."

"So we're never born," Dean said in realization. He looked to Mary. "He's right." Mary shook her head, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

"I—I can't. You're saying that you're my children, and now you're saying—"

"You have no other choice. There's a big difference between dying and never being born. And trust me, we're okay with it, I promise you that," Dean replied.

"Okay, well, I'm not," Mary snapped.

"Neither am I," Cassandra chimed in, siding with Mary. She narrowed her eyes at Sam, shaking her head. She wasn't okay with never meeting Dean. She wasn't okay with never falling into this life. She'd find her way into it somehow and she'd prefer it be with the Winchesters than by Heaven's or Hell's side.

"Listen, you think you can have that normal life that you want so bad, but you can't. I'm sorry. It's all gonna go rotten. You are gonna die...and your children will be cursed," Sam told her.

"There—there has to be a way."

Sam shook his head. "No, this is the way. Leave John."

"I can't."

"This is bigger than us. There are so many more lives at stake—" Mary cut Dean off, holding a hand to her chest as she stared back up at him, her gaze never leaving his.

"You don't understand. I can't." Mary hesitated, glancing between the three Hunters. "It's too late. I'm...I'm pregnant."

Dean's eyes widened and Sam's face fell into realization and shock while Cassandra stared back blankly at the woman. She was already pregnant with Dean. There was no way to go back now; to stop the Apocalypse from every happening. Heaven would always find a way to make it work. They'd throw Cassandra in his path earlier if Sam weren't born and they'd find a way to make John or Dean break the first seal. It was inevitable.

John rushed in, frantic. "Hey, we got a problem. Those blood things, the sigils—they're gone," John said. Everyone exchanged glances.

"Gone as in..." Sam trailed off, waiting for him to clarify.

"I drew one on the back of the door. I turned around. And when I looked back again, it was a smudge."

Dean stepped out into the doorway, his gaze locking on the black smudge that was left by the sigil. "He's right," Dean announced. Mary crouched down, running her hand over the floor where she had just poured the holy oil. She looked up.

"There's no more holy oil."

A loud ringing echoed throughout everyone's ears except for Cassandra's and it only intensified. All of the humans clutched their ears, groaning as they hunched over from the pain. The lights flickered before all of the windows blew out and Cassandra ducked, dodging the glass as it exploded throughout the house.

Once the ringing subsided everyone stood up, glancing around. A door flew open and Cassandra jumped, spinning around to see a dark-skinned man dressed in a suit waltz in. "Who the hell are you?" Cassandra demanded, not recognizing his true face from the few angels she had met.

"I'm Uriel," he replied. Dean started to back away, shaking his head.

"Oh, come on," the Hunter whined. Cassandra guessed that Uriel had died in their time by Dean's body language and she glanced between her boyfriend and the angel.

"Go," Sam told John and Mary as they started to back away. They stepped when they took notice in Anna blocking the only other exit. Sam pulled the angel blade from his jacket as he and Dean exchanged glances.

"Here goes nothin'," Dean muttered before lunging for Uriel while Sam rushed towards Anna. Cassandra covered Mary and John, pulling her own angel blade from the waistband of her jeans. She watched as both angels managed to grab ahold of the Winchester brothers, Uriel throwing Dean back into the kitchen while Anna threw Sam threw the wall.

John eyed the angel blade that Sam had dropped before running towards it. Anna stepped in front of him and he looked up, standing as she cupped his chin. Without warning Anna threw him back. The Winchester flew through the window and crashed into the windmill out back, falling unconscious.

"John!" Mary screamed out. Sam pushed himself from the pile of rubble and raced in front of Mary while Cassandra ran to help Dean. The Hunter went for the knife but Anna stepped back and ripped a fixture from the wall, driving it through Sam's stomach. Cassandra yelled out, standing between Sam and Dean with her fists clenched at her sides. Dean registered her screams and looked over just as blood started to drip from Sam's mouth.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, gasping for breath as Uriel's hand tightened around his neck. Sam slumped to the floor, clutching the metal pipe in his abdomen, and fell onto his side. Cassandra could hear his heartbeat cease and rage pumped furiously through her veins. Her irises glowed a deep blue and she could feel the power radiating throughout her body. "Sam!"

Anna turned to Mary, completely oblivious to Cassandra's approach. "I'm really sorry."

Cassandra was ready to drive the angel blade through Anna's chest when a deep voice stopped her.

"Anna."

Anna and Cassandra turned to see John standing before them. Except it wasn't John to them. They could see his true face, causing both of their eyes to widen in shock. "Michael," Anna breathed in fear, stepping back.

"Michael?" Cassandra questioned. The archangel glanced over at his daughter briefly before returning his attention to Anna, taking a single step forward and placing his hand on her shoulder. The redhead gagged as a bright red light engulfed her body before she burst into flames, screaming out in pain. Mary only stared with wide eyes as the body of the angel disintegrated.

Uriel released Dean, the Hunter slumping against the counter, and he started to walk towards his superior.

"Michael..." Michael turned towards the frightened remaining angel. "I didn't know."

"Goodbye, Uriel," Michael replied, snapping his fingers. Uriel vanished into thin air.

Cassandra's eyes retreated back to their normal color as she stared back at her father in both fear and awe. He had just saved all of their lives. She didn't understand why he would have wanted her to travel to nineteen-seventy-eight with the Winchesters and Castiel when he could take care of the problem just fine.

"What did you do to John?" Mary demanded shakily.

"John is fine."

"Who—what are you?" Michael pulled a single finger to his lips, smiling slightly.

"Shh..." He reached out to touch Mary's forehead, the blonde slumping to the ground in an unconscious state. The Archangel turned to Dean as he pushed himself off of the counter, clutching his side. Cassandra rushed over to her boyfriend and took an arm around her shoulder to help steady him. "Well, I'd say this conversation is long overdue, wouldn't you?" Michael asked. Dean pointed to Sam's corpse.

"Fix him," the Hunter ordered. Michael held up his index finger, stopping Dean from continuing. His gaze shifted over to Cassandra and studied her for a moment as if she were the greatest thing he had ever seen. He averted his attention back to the Hunter.

"First...we talk. Then I fix your darling little Sammy."

"How'd you get in my dad, anyway?" Dean asked.

"I told him I could save his wife, and he said yes," Michael replied. Dean chuckled softly but quickly stopped when he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. Cassandra frowned.

"I guess they oversold me being your one and only vessel."

"You're my true vessel but not my only one," Michael told him. Dean furrowed his eyebrows, glancing at Cassandra before looking back up at the Archangel.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's a bloodline."

"A bloodline?" Dean repeated.

"Stretching back to Cain and Abel. It's in your blood, your father's blood, your family's blood," Michael explained. Dean scoffed and shook his head, glancing away as he refused to meet Michael's gaze.

"Awesome. Six degrees of Heaven Bacon," he muttered. Cassandra bit back a snort. "What do you want with me?" Michael raised his eyebrows.

"You really don't know the answer to that?"

"Well, you know I ain't gonna say yes, so why are you here? What do you want with me?" Dean yelled.

"I just want you to understand what you and I have to do," the Archangel replied calmly. He looked to his daughter. "I want both of you to understand what we have to do."

"Oh, I get it. You got beef with your brother. Well, get some therapy, pal. Don't take it out on my planet!" Dean hissed. Michael shook his head slightly.

"You're wrong. Lucifer defied our father, and he betrayed me." His voice was soft; hurt; broken. Cassandra swore she could see the hesitance and guilt in her father's eyes. He didn't want to kill Lucifer. He loves him just as Dean loves Sam and Cassandra loved Jess. "But still...I don't want this any more than you would want to kill Sam." Michael turned away, walking over to Sam's body and staring down at it as he spoke, almost as if he were talking to Lucifer himself. "You know, my brother, I practically raised him. I took care of him in a way most people could never understand, and I still love him." Michael turned back to Dean and Cassandra. "But I am going to kill him because it is right and I have to."

"Oh, because God says so?" Dean retorted harshly. Cassandra placed a hand on his chest, looking up to him with a pleading expression. Dean stared back at her in confusion before returning his attention to the Archangel.

"Yes. From the beginning, He knew this was how it was going to end."

"And you're just gonna do whatever God says," Cassandra said in a monotone. Michael nodded.

"Yes, because I am a good son, just as you should be a good daughter." He smiled slightly as he eyed the Nephilim. "Just as I wish you could be a good daughter. You're making this harder than it had to be, Cassandra," he told her. Dean ignored their side conversation and shook his head, scoffing.

"Okay, well, trust me, pal. Take it from someone who knows—that is a dead-end street," Dean said. Michael looked back to his true vessel.

"And you think you know better than my father? One unimportant little man. What makes you think you get to choose?"

"Because I got to believe that I can choose what I do with my unimportant little life," Dean retorted. Cassandra's grip on Dean's hand tightened when she heard his words; words that she knew he believed. Words that Michael believed.

"You're wrong. You know how I know?" Michael turned away in thought before looking back to the couple. "Think of a million random acts of chance that let John and Mary be born, to meet, to fall in love, to have the two of you. Think of the million random choices that you make, and yet how each and every one of them brings you closer to your destiny." Dean's gaze dropped to the floor in thought. "Do you know why that is? Because it's not random. It's not chance. It's a plan that is playing itself out perfectly. Free will's an illusion, Dean. That's why you're going to say yes." Michael noticed his disappointment and smiled slightly, shaking his head. "Oh, buck up. It could be worse. You know, unlike my brothers, I won't leave you a drooling mess when I'm done wearing you. I'm still willing to give you the offer that I gave Cassandra."

Cassandra's head snapped up and she stared back at her father with wide eyes. He had told her that it was a one time deal.

"Well, what about my dad?" Dean asked, his eyes tearing up slightly.

"Better than new. In fact, I'm gonna do your mom and your dad a favor."

"What?"

"Scrub their minds. They won't remember me or you," Michael explained.

"You can't do that," Cassandra argued, her voice cracking.

"I'm just giving Mary what she wants. She can go back to her husband, her family—"

"She's gonna walk right into that nursery!" Dean yelled.

"Obviously," Michael said. Cassandra rolled her bottom lip between her teeth as she fought back the urge to reach out and slap her father across the face. Michael turned away. "And you always knew that was going to play out one way or another."

"You can't fight City Hall," the Archangel added. He walked over to Sam and crouched down in front of him, pressing two fingers to his temple. Sam vanished in a burst of light, the pipe clattering to the floor in the pool of blood. Michael stood back up and faced the couple. "He's home. Safe and sound. Your turn." He straightened Dean's jacket. "I'll see you soon, Dean." Pressing two fingers to Dean's head, he, too, disappeared, leaving Cassandra and her father.

"You don't have to listen to Him, Michael," Cassandra said. Michael furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side. "Your parents don't always know what's best for you. Trust me."

"He's not just my father, Cassandra. He's God."

"He's just like everyone else. He has children and a job. But guess what? He's gone. He left you to fend for yourselves after making you cast your brother down to Hell. Do you really want to take orders from a man who made you betray your own blood?" Cassandra asked. Michael shook his head and placed a hand on her shoulder. She eyed it warily.

"You'll understand one day, Cassandra. My offer still stands, y'know."

She nodded and licked her lips, glancing off to the side.

"I know."

"Is your answer still the same?" Cassandra stayed quiet, mulling over her options in her mind. Michael seemed to notice this action and smiled slightly. "You're loyal to the Winchesters and I get that. They've protected you all this time, even with your burdens that bring you down. But what happens when you outlive them and neither Heaven nor Hell will take you?" he asked.

"If I were to say yes." Her voice shook. "Can we keep Dean out of this?" Michael pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows.

"How so?"

"You can pester Dean all you want about saying yes, but we can't force him. We let it stay his choice. You and I both know Free Will is not an illusion, Michael. If God is as powerful and loving as you say, then he wouldn't lie to us." Michael grinned at his daughter's words.

"You're smarter than anyone gives you credit for."

"I'd like to think so."

"How would the Winchesters take the news of your betrayal?"

"It's not betrayal if I help you and them. I have conditions, but I think that if we can manage to get along then we could make this work. You may not even have to kill Lucifer," Cassandra told him. Michael pulled his hand from her shoulder.

"I'm listening."

"A week from when you zap us back, meet me at the mansion. I'll make sure Castiel is on a case with Sam and Dean and then we'll talk. I'm not making any promises as of now." Michael nodded, smiling warmly at the Nephilim.

"As you wish."

"Now send me back."

Without another word, Michael pressed two fingers to her temple and the Nephilim disappeared into a flash of light.

~*~

Dean pulled a bottle of whiskey from a paper bag and studied the label as Sam grabbed two glasses from the counter. Cassandra gasped and jumped when she saw Castiel suddenly appear in the room. Sam looked up in the mirror, his eyes widening at the sight of the dazed angel.

"Castiel," Sam breathed. He spun around and grabbed ahold of the angel to keep him from falling as his body wobbled. "Hey. Hey, hey. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa."

"Cas!" Dean exclaimed, rushing over to help hold him up. Cassandra walked over and studied the angel for any major injuries. He only seemed to be drained from his use of power.

"We got you," Sam assured him.

"You son of a bitch. You made it."

Cas furrowed his eyebrows. "I...I did?" He held his hands out and studied them. "I'm very surprised." Castiel collapsed, falling limp in the brothers' arms.

"Whoa! You're okay," Sam said as he and Dean struggled to drag him over the bed. They flopped him down on it as best as possible, letting out a sigh as they stepped back to stare at the unconscious angel. Cassandra frowned. How had she not asked for Michael to send him back with her?

"Well, I could use that drink now," Dean said, placing his hands on his hips. Sam nodded.

"Yeah," he agreed. Dean walked over and grabbed three glasses, pouring whiskey halfway in two and only a quarter way full for the third. He handed the one with the least to Cassandra before handing the other to Sam.

"Well...this is it," Dean said. Sam furrowed his eyebrows and looked up in confusion.

"This is what?" he asked before taking a sip of the alcohol. Cassandra took a long gulp, enjoying the burn that rushed down her throat.

"Team Free Will. One ex-blood junkie, one dropout with six bucks to his name, a mentally broken Nephilim, and Mr. Comatose over there. It's awesome."

"It's not funny," Sam told him as his brother took a sip. Dean shook his head.

"I'm not laughing."

Sam exhaled deeply, staring down at the floor in thought. "They all say we'll say yes," Sam said. Cassandra eyed her drink guiltily. She was truly considering helping Michael if this could all be over. She was willing to sacrifice her trust and her life to save the Winchesters and all of Humanity.

"I know. It's getting annoying," Dean grumbled.

"What if they're right?"

"They're not."

"I mean, why, why would we, any of us? But...I've been weak before."

"Sam," Dean warned, looking up to his younger brother.

"Michael got Dad to say yes," Sam argued. Dean sighed and shook his head.

"That was different. Anna was about to kill Mom."

"And if you could save Mom...what would you say?"

Dean stared blankly at nothing as he stayed quiet. Sam had him there. Dean would do anything to ensure the safety of his family, blood or not. He glanced over to Cassandra who stared down at her drink in lost thought. She constantly replayed her conversation over with Michael in her mind. Was she making the right choice by helping her father without dragging Sam and Dean into it? Would the choice get them killed or would it help them win?

If only Cassandra knew just what she was getting herself into and how it would end...