Rundown Motel in Palo Alto, California

January 24, 2010

Sam had gone running early in the morning, a usual routine for the younger Winchester brother. Cassandra normally noticed as she was up before anyone else due to her nightmares that never failed to keep her from sleeping. She was just relieved that being a Nephilim meant that she didn't need as much rest otherwise she'd pass out on hunts from exhaustion and lack of food.

Dean was sound asleep next to the blonde, soft snores escaping past his smooth lips, his arm tucked under Cassandra's head and the other resting above his own head. He seemed relaxed and at peace for once, the stress, shock, and exhaustion from their visit to nineteen-seventy-eight finally catching up with them.

Cassandra's gaze lingered on Dean's face and she took in every detail she could. She tried to memorize every freckle and little scar and she only wished he would open his eyes so that she could get lost into his piercing green disney princess eyes. She settled for her own eyes running along his chiseled jawline before she reached out, lightly tracing her finger across his skin. She let out a sigh. She was torn between waking him and letting him sleep.

Because it was his birthday, the blonde decided on the latter and silently rolled out of the motel bed, grabbing her backpack and locking herself in the bathroom. Her heart lurched in her chest when she realized she wouldn't be getting any texts or calls from her mother that day. There would be no tears exchanged on the phone, no sobs crackling in the speakers, and no stories about the girl known as Jessica Moore. Cassandra didn't have anyone to call to wish a happy twenty-seventh birthday to. That girl had died almost five years earlier at the hands of Azazel.

Cassandra's breath shook as she leaned against the bathroom counter and she forced herself to look in the mirror. She and Jess shared the same blonde hair as they had gotten it from their mother, but the blue of their irises were just a few shades off as Cassandra assumed she had inherited hers from one of Michael's vessels. He seemed to frequent using men with midnight hair and piercing blue eyes as vessels and she could assume that it was how he wished to look as a human.

"It wasn't your fault," Cassandra whispered to her reflection in the mirror, her fingers curling over the edge of the countertop as she fought back the tears. "She was halfway across the country and you were asleep. You had no idea. You were oblivious to the supernatural world and who Jess' boyfriend truly was. It wasn't your fault." No matter how many times the blonde repeated those words to herself she couldn't make herself believe them. Her breath continued to shake with every word and she could see the white in her eyes start to tint into a light shade of red, tears welling and glossing over before she could even fight them back. "It wasn't your fault." Her voice cracked and she choked back a sob, her hand flying up to her mouth to muffle the sob that ended up escaping past her lips. She was careful not to wake Dean since he deserved some rest.

Cassandra slowly sunk to her knees on the bathroom floor, her hand still covering her mouth to silence her cries. No matter what she did she couldn't seem to stop.

Memories of Jess flooded her mind as her body shook before it finally ended with just one last memory; except it wasn't exactly a memory but a dream. Cassandra replayed watching her sister burn over and over in her mind until she couldn't take it anymore. She scrambled across the bathroom floor and grabbed her backpack, unzipping it and rummaging through it until she pulled out one of her razors from her toiletry kit.

She hissed in pain when one of the tiny blades cut her thumb but she ignored it and continued to work one of the blades off before throwing the pink piece of plastic to the side. She held the blade above her wrist but stopped, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth in thought.

"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."

Cassandra eyed the blade, the memory from the night before Carthage playing in her mind.

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

"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. January twenty-fourth, nineteen-seventeen-nine...my birthday," Dean whispered. "It's all I want."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I won't do it. If that's what you want then I won't do it. I promise."

January twenty-fourth. She had promised Dean she wouldn't do it; but she also made that promise when she didn't plan on ever seeing him again. She planned on dying that night or siding with Heaven. She didn't count on Bobby and Dean talking her into staying.

Cassandra could hear the door to the motel room open and she could register Sam's feet shuffling across the stained and dusty carpet. She could hear him set down his water bottle and she could hear him turn on his phone to check for any messages.

The Nephilim had two choices in that moment: abide by Dean's wishes and her promise, or continue on with her unfortunate tradition. Her gaze shifted around the bathroom before dropping back to the blade, her wrist facing the ceiling. Without a second thought, Cassandra dragged the blade across her pale wrist, tearing open her skin and reopening a small bit of the suicide attempt scar. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes when she saw just how deep she had cut. She didn't realize her own strength. The line was straight; perfect.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts and her head snapped towards the flimsy piece of wood. "Cassandra, are you almost done?" Sam asked, his ear pressed against the door. She stayed silent, desperately trying to control her voice before answering. She couldn't even open the door without Sam knowing what she had done. The blood seeped from the open wound, slowly forming a small puddle onto the tiled floor. Sam knocked again upon hearing her silence. "Cassandra?"

"Give me a minute," she called back, cringing when her voice cracked. It was clear that she had been crying. Sam furrowed his eyebrows and leaned against the door.

"You okay?"

Cassandra didn't answer in fear of breaking down again. Instead she grabbed a washcloth from the rack and pressed it down on her wrist in an attempt to stop the bleeding as she rushed around the small bathroom in a desperate attempt to clean up the mess she had made. She wasn't fast enough, though, because Sam opened the unlocked door, stopping abruptly at the sight of the blood on the floor. The blonde gasped and looked up, her eyes widening at Sam's presence.

"Sam," she choked out. Her gaze drifted over to Dean who continued to sleep soundly in the bed before she looked back to the younger Hunter. "It's not what it looks like. I—" Cassandra cut herself off. There was no point in even trying.

Sam glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Dean was still passed out on the bed before stepping further into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. He crouched down to the Nephilim's level, grabbing her arm and pulling the washcloth away to take a look at it. Cassandra's gaze drifted up from the cut to his eyes and her heart dropped when she saw the disappointment. Sam scratched the back of his head as he studied it.

"Why?" was all he said. He ran the pad of his thumb over the other eight scars, sighing before meeting her eyes.

"I just broke down. I couldn't take it. I know I promised Dean but then I started to remember and I couldn't stop myself. It's only one, though. I always only do one. I swear," she explained. Sam nodded and reached out, cupping her cheek as his thumb wiped away a few stray tears.

"I know it's hard. Trust me, I do. And now that your mom is also gone..." Sam trailed off, sighing. "I hate saying this just as much as I hate doing this, but you gotta push through this for today. If Dean found out it'd ruin his day and I wanted to do something for him now that you're here with us," Sam told her. She nodded, her eyes following him as he grabbed another washcloth and ran it under cold water before leaning back down to clean the wound.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I fucked up, Sam," Cassandra whispered. Sam nodded, his tongue pressed between his lips in concentration.

"It's okay. It is. We just need to get this all cleaned up before Dean wakes up." Cassandra nodded mutely, letting Sam disinfect her wrist. Once all of the blood was gone he sat back on his calves and studied it. "I don't think it needs stitches, but it is pretty deep. Let me grab some gauze," he said. The blonde watched him push himself off of the floor, quietly slipping out of the bathroom and rushing over to his duffel bag to dig for gauze and tape.

Sam came back just as she started to wipe up the blood from the floor and she looked up to see him holding up the box and the tape. He nudged the door closed again and sat cross-legged in front of her. Cassandra held out her wrist, her eyes locked on Sam as he quickly patched her up. He gently rubbed his hand over the gauze to secure the tape before throwing all of the wrappers in the small trash can. He sent her a warm smile, an action in which she returned.

"Thank you," Cassandra muttered softly. Sam nodded distractedly and went to stand up when she grabbed his wrist, stopping him. He furrowed his eyebrows at the blonde who stared up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Seriously, Sam. Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Well, you'd probably be graduated from college," he replied with an awkward chuckle. "I was the one who let Lucifer out and helped break seals."

"It's not your fault. You didn't know."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Cassandra quickly pushed herself from the floor and shut the door again before Sam could step out. He eyed the woman warily. "Stop blaming yourself! This isn't your fault and deep down you know that. It was bound to happen. You didn't hear Michael back in nineteen-seventy-eight. Everyone knows it's supposed to end with the three of us. You can't fight destiny."

"I think you and I both know the truth."

She arched an eyebrow challengingly. "Oh, yeah? And what's that?"

"That I'm a monster." Cassandra frowned at his words and Sam sighed, shaking his head. "When you left after we got in that fight, I was hopped up on demon blood. I went through a blood detox that almost killed me. It showed me who I truly am and releasing Lucifer only proved what everyone believes," Sam explained. Cassandra pursed her lips in thought, unsure of how to reply. So she said the first thing that came to mind.

"Maybe you are a monster, but so am I and so is Dean. Maybe every human or every living being is a monster. But who ever said that monsters can't save the world from a bunch of Biblical douchebags? We may be monsters but the three of us? The three of us will save the world, Sam, and we'll do it knowing we're heroes no matter how Heaven, Hell, or Humanity look at us. Just because you may be a monster does not mean that you are forced to be evil as we are depicted. I don't believe that we have a destiny and even if we do, I don't believe we have to follow it."

Sam stared back at her for a moment, his expression blank, before he pulled the blonde into a tight hug. Cassandra tensed at the action but quickly relaxed in his arms, hugging the Hunter back. "What's this for?" she muttered.

"You're the only one who doesn't look at me like I'm some type of freak. You're the only one who doesn't blame me for Lucifer escaping. Even Dean blames me for that and sees me as some—some unholy creature. You're the only one who's ever had faith in me, Cassy. Thank you."

"You're good, Sam, no matter what anyone else tells you. Don't believe the bullshit that the angels and demons feed you. They're just fucking with your mind. Trust me, I'd know. It's what I planned to do for a living," Cassandra replied. Sam let out a laugh and shook his head as he pulled away. He brushed a lock of hair from her face and smiled down at her.

"Jess would be proud of you."

"I beg to differ." Sam narrowed his eyes at the Nephilim. "But she'd also be proud of you. It's a shame she couldn't marry you. I'd love to call you my brother-in-law," Cassandra admitted. Sam smirked and nodded his head to the side, shrugging.

"I could still have the title if you and Dean make it out of this alive," he teased. Cassandra managed a weak smile before shaking her head.

"Honestly, Sam, I have a feeling Dean won't want much to do with me after we stop Lucifer."

Sam's smile fell at her words. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," she lied smoothly. "I just don't think I'll stick around. I might shoot for that apple pie life and I have a feeling Dean won't want to follow. He loves hunting too much, but it's just not me." Sam nodded and tried to believe that she was telling the truth but his gut said otherwise. "Why don't you shower and get ready since I already did and then we can go over the plans for today?" Cassandra suggested. Sam smiled again and nodded.

"Sounds good." He pulled her into another hug and planted a kiss on the top of her head, an action Cassandra hadn't been expecting. "Will you be okay?" Sam mumbled. She nodded and pulled away.

"Yeah, I think so. I just have to wear my jacket or a long sleeved shirt all day."

"And if Dean decides to check your wrists after your promise?"

"Then I guess Hell on Earth comes early." Without another word Cassandra left the bathroom, her backpack in hand and razor and blade in the trash. Sam watched her go before shutting and locking the door behind him. He could only hope that Dean wouldn't get too curious about the fact that they let him sleep in.

Cassandra crawled into the bed with her boyfriend, straddling his waist as she leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his lips. "Good morning," she whispered against his lips. Dean's eyes fluttered open to see hers and he grinned. "Happy birthday."

"I'm thirty-one. I think I'm starting to get old," he joked. Cassandra chuckled and kissed him again.

"I'll only start making jokes once you hit forty," she promised. Dean laughed and turned them over so that he was on top, his hands slipping under the hem of her shirt and roaming over her torso. "Apparently Sam made plans for today."

"Oh boy."

"I know." Cassandra reached up and rested her hand on the back of his neck, shrugging. "But it can't be too bad, right? I mean the worst he could do in my eyes is take you to a strip club." She pulled Dean towards her, locking lips with him.

"I don't want to look at any half naked woman other than you." Cassandra pulled away from Dean's lips, her eyebrows raising in shock.

"Who are you and what the hell have you done with Dean Winchester?" Dean chuckled and shook his head, leaning forward and kissing his girlfriend. She giggled and kissed him back, her hand traveling up to his hair and running her fingers through it. Dean pecked a kiss on the corner of her mouth before starting to travel down her jawline. Cassandra's eyes fluttered close and she let out a sharp breath, her mind blanking out from Dean's touch. She could feel his fingers outline the wire of her bra with one hand, the other running along her side.

"Cassy?"

"Hm?"

"I'm so glad we found you. I don't think I've ever been happier," Dean told her, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck. He pushed the fabric of her shirt aside, sucking on the skin of her collarbone. She let out a soft gasp and her fingers tightened in his hair at the sudden action. Dean smirked against her neck before pulling away, staring down at her with loving eyes. "Normally we don't do anything on our birthdays but I guess you've changed that." Her eyes fluttered open and she laughed.

"Like how I made you guys celebrate Christmas this year?" she questioned. Dean grinned and nodded.

"That was fun."

"It was," Cassandra agreed

"God, you're a horrible singer," Dean said with an amused smile as he shook his head. Cassandra threw her head back and laughed.

"Wow, I guess I really do have the voice of an angel," she joked. Dean nodded.

"Yeah, you sound like Cas the first time he tried talking to me." The blonde snickered and Dean leaned forward, gently placing his lips on hers. She sunk into the kiss and let out a light moan, their lips moving in perfect sync. They stayed like that for a only a few minutes before the bathroom door opened, causing Cassandra to jump and look up. Sam chuckled and shook his head at the couple but Dean only rolled his eyes and reluctantly got out of bed.

"Don't take too long," Sam told him as he ran his fingers through his hair. Cassandra frowned. She wished she could just run her fingers through her hair and then it was perfect. It wasn't fair how easy Sam had it when it came to taming the mane.

Once Dean was in the shower, door locked and water running, Sam glanced over to the blonde. "He doesn't know?" She shook her head.

"No. I don't think he ever suspected anything." Sam breathed a sigh of relief. "So what exactly are the plans for today?" Cassandra inquired, arching an eyebrow in curiosity. She couldn't think of many things that Dean enjoyed. She knew he loved cars, pie, strippers, alcohol, and shooting things. She didn't know how Sam could make plans out of those things.

The younger Winchester only smirked. "You'll see," he had told her. Cassandra eyed him warily but nodded. "Hey, can you take the bags out to the car while I clean up and talk to Dean when he gets out?" Cassandra licked her lips and nodded, catching the keys that Sam had thrown at her effortlessly before grabbing Dean's duffel and her backpack. She left the motel room, struggling to turn the handle to exit but managing.

The Nephilim let the door slam shut behind her as she walked across the lot to the Impala, glancing both ways down the street to make sure that no cars were coming. She made her way to the Impala, dropping the bags in front of the trunk as she thumbed through the keys until she found the right one. She went to insert the key when a voice behind her stopped her.

"Cassandra."

She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath, her hands clenching into fists in front of her. He was the last person she wanted to deal with that day.

"Are you alright?"

"I said a week, not a day," she replied simply. The man behind her nodded, frowning when she didn't turn around. Instead she unlocked the trunk and opened it, bending down to grab the bags.

"Yes, I am aware. I just..." He sighed, shaking his head. "Your pain sent out a beacon. I wanted to make sure you were alright." Cassandra tossed the duffel bag and backpack into the trunk roughly, a hard expression on her face, before whirling around to see her father standing before her in his usual vessel. She was relieved that it wasn't John Winchester. She could go two lifetimes without seeing his face again.

"Glad to know you finally care. Or is this only because I'm considering helping you?" she snapped, twirling the keys around her index finger as she stared at her father pointedly. Michael glanced away for a moment in thought before looking back to the Nephilim who arched an eyebrow impatiently.

"I do care for you, Cassandra. You're my daughter." She scoffed, shaking her head and licking her lips as she glanced away. "Even if you do not believe it, I love you. I meant what I had said. I never came down the other times because I feared that you would turn the Winchesters and Castiel on me if I showed up. Besides, the beacon wasn't as strong. This one...it was very clear. I am shocked that there aren't any demons or other angels here," Michael explained. He hesitated, his gaze falling to the ground before looking back up at the blonde who refused to meet his eyes. "May I ask what happened? Did you get in a fight with Dean?"

"No," she said. "Dean has nothing to do with this." Cassandra looked back to the archangel. Michael studied her eyes, his face falling when he only found sadness and guilt. "It was just physical pain. I accidentally cut myself and it hurt. That's all."

"You've taken worse beatings that have sent out weaker beacons. This was emotional. What happened?"

"It was almost five years ago. It doesn't matter anymore." Cassandra turned to walk back to the motel room to grab the last bag when Michael reached out, grabbing her wrist and stopping her. Cassandra cried out, spinning around just as Michael eyed her arm. He quickly released her wrist, watching as she clutched it to her chest. He furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side slightly as she stared back at him in what almost resembled fear.

"Cassandra..."

"What?" she snapped. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that her birthday is today. I suppose I've been so busy with everything else that I forgot."

"Yeah? Well, I didn't. And now my boyfriend's birthday is going to be ruined because of it, but at least he cares. At least he doesn't want to just use me to take down his brother because daddy says so. You angels claim to be this—this superior species that knows all but in reality you're all just a bunch of scared, little, lost children because daddy left you all."

Michael recoiled at her words.

"You're still playing by His rules even though He left you all those millenniums ago. When will you realize that you don't have to be this obedient son anymore? When will you realize that you will not have a punishment? You're an archangel, Michael. Last I checked, that gives you the ability to do whatever you damn well please and something tells me you really don't want to kill Lucifer. You're hesitant. You've had plenty of chances to gank the son of a bitch in his weakest moments yet he's still out there terrorizing the world. Terrorizing me, the one human who you claim to love. Stop sitting around on your ass and take charge or we won't win this war."

By the time the Nephilim had finished her chest was heaving as she struggled to control her anger and catch the small breath that she had lost during her breathless rant. Michael only narrowed his eyes into a glare.

"You know nothing of what truly happened," Michael told her. Cassandra arched an eyebrow challengingly, taking a step forward.

"Oh, yeah? From what I was told back in two-thousand-fourteen, you archangels were content with the world that God had created, but the moment He created the humans Lucifer flipped his shit. God wanted you to bow down before us lesser beings and Lucifer refused because he loved daddy so much that he didn't want to love anyone but his father and his brothers. He found humans flawed; murderous; evil; manipulative; abortions," Cassandra spat. "So God asked you to cast him down into Hell because He couldn't bring Himself to do it with His own hands. He couldn't bring Himself to harm His own child so He made you do His dirty work and, like a good little lapdog, you obeyed. Tell me what I got wrong."

Cassandra crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for a reply. Michael's breathing only shook in anger and Cassandra had never seen him so angry before. He was raging; furious. She swore he'd explode, maybe lash out and beat her to a pulp. Instead he clenched his fists at his sides and let out a deep breath.

"Watch your tone," Michael growled.

"You know I'm right."

"No one makes me do anything."

Cassandra took a step forward, their faces inches apart.

"Then prove it," she hissed quietly but sternly, her eyes searching his almost as a challenge. Michael turned his head away and took a step away from his daughter.

"You're hurting."

"I'm pissed."

"I can feel the energy radiating off of you, Cassandra. You're taking your emotions out on me. That's good, but the rage and hurt and betrayal you feel? You're going to need that when we take on Lucifer. He's not easy to kill and neither am I. You may be able to form an angel blade with your bare hands but an archangel blade is beyond your power; beyond my power," Michael explained. The blonde let out a huff, looking away. "Your training in the next few weeks will be brutal. You are far behind despite what you may think and the Winchesters are only holding you back. Castiel cannot teach you what I can."

"If you are so confident in your ability to beat Lucifer then why do you even need me? Moral support? Do you really need a cheerleader on the sidelines for you?" Cassandra inquired. Michael simply shook his head.

Sam pulled open the door to the motel room to take his bag out but stopped when he saw Michael standing in front of the Nephilim. He recognized that vessel from the first time he showed up. Sam kept the door cracked but listened, blocking out the sound of the water from Dean's shower.

"What is your answer, Cassandra? Are you going to help Heaven?"

Sam's eyes widened and his lips parted slightly in shock. He looked up, watching them.

Cassandra glanced around, rolling her bottom lip in thought. She never caught sight of the Winchester in the doorway of the room. Michael eyed his daughter curiously, anxiously awaiting an answer. The blonde looked back up at her father and nodded.

"Yes."

"And Dean?"

"That's not my place to say. Whatever he chooses is his decision and you can't force anything upon him. That was the deal, Michael. Either you abide by it or I go against both Heaven and Hell and I will take both you and Lucifer out. You do not want to make an enemy of me," Cassandra said. Michael's lips curled into a smirk and he nodded gratefully.

"As you wish."

"Now leave before one of them come out," she said. Michael's smirk fell and his gaze shifted from determination to worry.

"Are you sure you will be okay?" he questioned, his expression soft. Cassandra nodded and cleared her throat, sending him a warm smile.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." She ran a hand through her wild blonde hair. "It's nothing I can't handle." Michael nodded once before disappearing into thin air, leaving nothing but the flutter of his wings. Cassandra stood there for a moment, desperately trying to recompose herself, before turning just as Sam walked out of the motel room as if nothing ever happened. She stopped abruptly, unsure if he had heard anything.

"Hey, you good?" Sam questioned, handing her the bag that she held her hand out for. Cassandra nodded and dropped it in the trunk before closing it and locking it, pulling out the keys and tossing them between her hands. "You were out here for awhile." Cassandra forced a smile on her lips.

"Just thinking," she lied smoothly. Sam nodded, watching as she leaned back against the Impala. "Is Dean almost done?"

"Uh, he should be. He's been in there long enough." Cassandra nodded mutely. "Did he ever mention about what he wanted to do today?" She shook her head.

"No, actually. He just said that you guys never celebrate birthdays," she replied. Sam chuckled and nodded, sighing.

"Yeah. I guess that's kind weird for you, huh?" Cassandra looked up, furrowing her eyebrows. Suddenly realization hit and she shook her head, running her tongue over her lips.

"Uh, no, actually," she admitted. "I haven't celebrated my birthday since I was nineteen. Worst day of my life." The blonde cleared her throat. "But it doesn't really matter anymore." Sam frowned slightly.

"When is your birthday? I'd like to do something for you," Sam told her. Cassandra laughed softly and shook her head.

"Honestly, Sam? I have a feeling that this may all be over by the time my birthday comes around. I feel like this may be coming to an end in a few months." Sam scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion, shifting his weight between his legs.

"Why do you say that?" he inquired. Cassandra shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess if Lucifer and Michael are truly determined to kill each other then they'll find a way to do it with or without you guys. Either that or Lucifer will end the world out of spite." Cassandra let out a sigh. "Who knows? I could always be wrong."

The door to the motel room opened and Sam turned to see Dean walk out, tugging the door shut behind him. He flashed a grin to the two Hunters as he made his way towards them, stopping in front of Cassandra to peck her on the lips. She smiled against his lips and kissed him again before pulling away. "So what are we doing today?" Dean asked, turning to Sam. Sam smiled at the sight of the happy couple before clearing his throat, returning to reality.

"We are not doing anything." Both Cassandra and Dean arched an eyebrow at the younger Winchester who smirked smugly at the couple. "I am going to the library to do some research but you two are going on a date."

"A what now?" Cassandra asked, raising both eyebrows as she stared back at Sam in shock.

"A date. It's where two people—" Cassandra held up a hand, stopping him.

"No, I know what a date is, you jackass." Dean chuckled. "I mean why are we going on one? I've never even been asked on a date before let alone been on one," Cassandra added. Sam shrugged.

"You two needed some time to yourself that wasn't in some old motel room or somewhere at Bobby's. You've got dinner reservations at eight at Fleming's Prime Steakhouse & Wine Bar which gives you roughly—" Sam pulled his phone out and glanced at the time. "Nine hours to do whatever you want. Have fun. I'll be across the street at the library," Sam explained. He smirked at the couple before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving Dean and Cassandra alone. They turned to each other in shock, confused as to what had just happened.

"What the fuck?" Cassandra finally said. Dean shrugged and licked his lips.

"I don't know about you but I'm up for a date. Haven't been on one of those in a long time and we could use the relaxation. Besides, the restaurant that Sam just named is five stars. You know what that means?" Dean asked.

"That my wallet is going to have a hole in it?" Cassandra retorted.

"That I get to see you in a sexy dress." Cassandra let out a laugh.

"Honey, I wish I owned one of those. I'm sorry to say that the one I wore when I was kidnapped and brought to Heaven has been burned as I want no memory of Lucifer or Ruby attached to any article of clothing. I don't even own a dress."

Dean turned and opened the back door of the Impala, pulling out a fancy purple bag and rifling through it until he pulled out a pair of black heels and a black strapless dress. "Son of a bitch," Cassandra muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. Dean chuckled and slid them back in, tossing the bag in the car and slamming the door shut.

"So where do you want to go first?" Dean questioned.

"It's your birthday, Dean. I believe you get to pick."

~*~

Dean had chosen a movie after lunch, a crappy one at that. They walked out of the theater laughing and shaking their heads in disbelief. "Okay. So not worth the money," Cassandra said.

"But you have to admit that it was so bad it was hilarious," Dean reasoned. Cassandra nodded and licked her lips as they made their way back to the parked Impala. The blonde wondered how much research Sam could stand. Maybe he had picked up a girl and had a little fun of his own. Cassandra pushed the thought away. That wasn't something Sam would do.

"Okay, okay. You're right," the Nephilim agreed. She went to pull open the passenger door but stopped when she saw a man lingering across the street, watching her. Her smile fell upon seeing his true face and she leaned against the open door, staring back at him. Dean furrowed his eyebrows and followed her gaze, but when he saw where she was looking he found no one.

"Princess, you good?" Dean asked. Cassandra snapped out of it and looked up.

"What? Oh. Yeah." Dean raised both eyebrows. "Sorry. I just thought I saw something. I guess not," she replied. Dean nodded and slipped in the driver's seat but Cassandra pressed her lips together in a thin line, looking back over to the spot where the archangel had just been standing. She glanced around before climbing in the passenger seat, closing the door behind her. "I don't know what else there is to do around here."

"We can go back to the motel and chill," Dean suggested as he pulled out of the parking space. Cassandra shrugged and nodded in agreement. "I don't know about you, but I could use a nap before dinner." Cassandra hummed in agreement, leaning back in her seat and letting her eyes flutter closed. She tried to push away every thought besides Dean and what they'd be doing that day. This was Dean's day. There was no room for memories of Jess, plans with Michael, or guilt for betrayal. Besides, she wasn't actually betraying them, just working alongside her father and the Winchesters. She only hoped that Castiel wouldn't find out.

Dean and Cassandra made it back to the motel pretty quickly as the movie theater hadn't been as far as they thought. Dean had flopped down on the bed immediately while Cassandra grabbed a long sleeved shirt from her backpack that she had brought in and locked herself in the bathroom to change. She shrugged off the leather jacket and pulled her black v-neck over her head, stopping when she caught sight of the scars on her torso. She frowned slightly as she read the word.

MONSTER

Her mind went back to what she had told Sam that morning.

"Maybe you are a monster, but so am I and so is Dean. Maybe every human or every living being is a monster. But who ever said that monsters can't save the world from a bunch of Biblical douchebags? We may be monsters but the three of us? The three of us will save the world, Sam, and we'll do it knowing we're heroes no matter how Heaven, Hell, or Humanity looks at us. Just because you may be a monster does not mean that you are forced to be evil as we are depicted. I don't believe that we have a destiny and even if we do, I don't believe we have to follow it."

Cassandra didn't even know how to react to her own words. They had obviously meant something to Sam, but to her it was just a way to admit what she was without one of the brothers arguing otherwise. The blonde shook it off and pulled on the flannel. She shimmied her jeans down her legs and reached into her bag to pull out a pair of leggings but stopped when she realized that she didn't have any clean ones. She needed to do laundry before her next case.

Content with the fact that the flannel reached mid-thigh, she shoved her clothes in the backpack and walked out of the bathroom to crawl into bed next to Dean. He turned his head and smiled at her, a gesture in which the Nephilim returned. "Look at you all comfy cozy," Dean teased. Cassandra chuckled and curled into his side, resting her head on his chest.

"Did you set the alarm so that we're not late?" she asked. Dean hummed in confirmation before pulling the blanket over them. Cassandra wedged one of her legs between Dean's, letting her bend her knee comfortably. She sighed as he wrapped his arm around her.

"Something's on your mind."

Cassandra shook her head.

"No, actually. I'm relaxed for once," she admitted in shock. Dean furrowed his eyebrows and turned his head to stare down at her. She looked up. "What?" He shrugged, the pad of his thumb tracing circles on her bare thigh under the blanket.

"Nothing. Just looking." Cassandra couldn't help but smile, earning one in return from the Hunter. "What should we do for your birthday?"

"I feel like my birthday isn't worth celebrating in all honesty."

"Why not?"

"I mean just eight days before we let Lucifer out of Hell and then we jumped right into getting our asses handed to us by demons and angels. I feel like nothing good happens that day or the time around it. I'm okay with not doing anything but working," the blonde explained. Dean frowned and shook his head.

"You gotta do something. Even just the three of us going out to dinner," Dean argued.

"Sorry, but I haven't liked my birthday since I was nineteen. Besides, birthdays are kind of stupid. We get it. You're alive. Whoop-dee-doo," she finished in a monotone. Dean let out a laugh, his shoulders shaking as Cassandra smiled. "They're just not my thing. Sorry to disappoint," she added.

"Maybe you'll change your mind. We still have, what, five months?" Cassandra nodded. "We have time." Dean kissed the top of her head, pulling away slightly to take a good look at her. He flashed her a small smile. "We don't have to go to dinner if you don't want to. We can just lay in bed all day."

"Dinner actually sounds nice. I'm just tired right now, not that I've done anything today." In reality, her breakdown earlier that morning and her fight with Michael had drained her for the day. She knew she'd be able to make it through dinner if she took a nap, but her heart still ached at the thought of Jess and her mom and she still felt numb inside. It was something she had to hide from Dean but didn't quite mind since he was happy.

Cassandra was too deep in thought to realize that Dean's hand had traveled up to her hand, his fingertips slipping under the sleeve of the flannel. His fingers brushed over the gauze and he furrowed his eyebrows, pushing up the sleeve to reveal the blood stained bandaging. "Princess," Dean started warily. His voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she looked up to him in confusion. It wasn't until she followed his gaze that her face paled and her stomach dropped. "What happened?"

She didn't say anything. She only watched as he peeled back the bandage, his breath hitching in his throat at the wound. He met her gaze and she looked away guiltily. "Cassy," he whispered, his eyes full of hurt. He wasn't disappointed or mad. Just hurt. "You promised me."

"I know. I'm sorry. It was just too much when I got up this morning," she muttered, a single tear slipping down her cheek. Dean reached up and wiped it away with his thumb, frowning. "I didn't even mean to cut that deep. I didn't realize how much stronger I had gotten since November."

"Does Sam know?" She nodded.

"Yes. We didn't want to tell you until tomorrow because we knew it'd ruin your day. I'm sorry." Dean sighed and pulled her closer, wrapping his arms tighter around her body. "I'm sorry," Cassandra repeated. Dean rested his chin on the top of her head.

"I'm not mad. I just wish you would've woken me up. I don't care what's going on that day. If you feel like that then talk to me." She nodded mutely, sniffling and swiping away another tear. "I hate that you feel like this."

"I really don't want to talk about it. Can we just sleep?" Cassandra requested. Dean nodded and reached over, turning off the lamp. The curtains had been closed and the only light that peeked in was through the cracks of the door. Cassandra fell asleep before Dean, exhaustion taking over faster than she liked. But Dean struggled to rest, the constant reminder of his troubles looming over him on what was supposed to be a peaceful day. Cassandra didn't ruin it; she was just a reminder of the fact that their lives would never calm down no matter how much they tried. They'd never get over loss and heartbreak and the guilt and regret would always be there. It seemed that no matter what they did they could never win. And that was just how the world worked.

What do you think? Is Cassandra making a bad decision by helping Michael and Heaven?

A little Sam and Cassy moment? I love Sam and Cassandra so much. They don't get in many fights and they're always there for each other and believe in each other when they don't even believe in themselves. They both have everyday struggles concerning the supernatural and they both know they screwed up yet they still do everything in their power to fix it and make it right. They also always make sure that Dean's happy before themselves. I think it's Jess who brought them together and close. I just love them so much and I hope to write more Sam and Cassy moments. What do you think? Do you like them together as siblings? Don't worry, Dessandra is endgame and Sam won't get her.