I'm giving you an update a day early and then not updating tomorrow. I need to see some of your comments. I'm losing motivation in my writing.

Mansion in Lincoln, Nebraska

Cassandra landed in the main room of her mansion and instantly she knew that something wasn't right. She could feel a presence in the building, one that wasn't supposed to be there. It was almost Heavenly, a presence that she never wanted to feel again. She quickly and silently crept over to the case that held her weapons and unlocked it, pulling the sword from its spot between the batons and the bow. She sealed it back up and followed the  energy  of the Grace towards her room. Her heart pounded in her chest. She was still wary around other angels and she didn't feel ready to go up against another one.

The Nephilim stopped outside the hallway to her room, pressing her back against the wall as she peeked around the corner. The angel struggled to get into her room and she smirked.

"It's angel-proofed," Cassandra said, stepping out from her hiding place. The angel spun around, scowling and pulling out his own angel blade.

"Cassandra," he growled. "We were told you were dead. Michael killed you."

"Well, then tell Daddy he failed at that, too." Cassandra paused and studied the angel before cocking her head to the side slightly. "Actually, I can give that message to him myself. I think I'll just kill you," the blonde told him. She spun the sword around in her grasp before lunging for the angel. He quickly ducked out of the way and sliced at her but she avoided it, scowling. "Nice try."

"You're weak," the angel spat. "I can tell. You're not even healed yet."

"It doesn't mean I can't kill you."

"Hit me with your best shot, Sweetheart."

With rage pumping through her at the sound of the nickname, Cassandra swung at the angel and she managed to knick his vessel, the bright glue of his Grace shining through. He glanced down at the wound before looking up. Cassandra used his distraction to her advantage and she lunged forward and drove the sword through the vessel. The angel blade slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor loudly as the celestial being screamed out, a bright white light shining through his vessel. He fell limp on the sword and she yanked it from the body, watching as it collapsed to the ground. Angel wings were scorched into the wall and floor and the blonde frowned slightly.

"My floor," she whined as she glared down at the body. Snapping out of it, Cassandra quickly raced down to the basement in search of the black box that Gabriel had told her about. She flipped on the lightswitch, squinting at the bright light as it flickered twice before settling into constant illumination. Her gaze landed on a small black box tucked in the corner of the room, an angel banishing sigil painted in what seemed to be blood across the front. Cassandra quickly hurried over to it and picked it up, flipping it open.

She pulled out a piece of paper.

Use it wisely and kick their ass.

—Gabriel

Cassandra smiled slightly before setting the paper aside and pulling out a small vial. It glowed bright white with part of Lucifer's Grace and she could practically hear it calling out her name. The Nephilim tossed the box to the side and popped off the cork, watching the wispy light float out before circling back around towards her. Her lips parted as she inhaled it and she threw her head back from the powerful force, dropping the vial to the ground. She couldn't hear it shatter as she was too consumed by the Grace working its way through her body to focus on anything else.

A shadow of a pair of angel wings were cast on the wall behind her as her body let off a warm blue light.

Suddenly the power faded out, still coursing through her veins, and she fell to her knees, panting in a desperate attempt to catch her breath. Cassandra stared at the shattered glass with wide eyes. If only part of Lucifer's Grace was that powerful then how strong would he be at full power? The thought frightened Cassandra but she pushed herself from the ground and glanced around. She could hear footsteps upstairs and a celestial presence.

Quickly recognizing it as Michael, Cassandra disappeared leaving nothing but the flutter of her wings and the shattered vial.

Michael entered the basement just as she disappeared and his gaze settled on the broken glass. He sighed and shook his head. He was too late. Gabriel had already warned her.

Cassandra landed next to the Impala just as Dean slammed the trunk shut. She jumped slightly and gasped, Dean's head snapping up at the sound. He let out a breath of relief. She had been gone quite awhile.

"Princess, thank God," the Hunter breathed, pulling her in for a hug. Cassandra tensed before relaxing under his touch and carefully hugging him back all while making sure she didn't accidentally hurt him with the sword. "You took longer than we thought."

"I'm sorry," she replied as she pulled away. "I ran into a predicament,." She held up the sword for emphasis. "The angel's dead, though. So I'm okay. And I have the Grace. I should be powerful enough to take him down."

"Good," Sam chimed in. His eyes raked over her body and he smiled slightly. "You look stronger, stronger than you've ever been. With you, I think we have a shot." Cassandra returned the smile and nodded. He cleared his throat. "You'll be going to Chicago with Dean to get Death's ring. Cas and I will stop the Croatoan virus from spreading."

"Yes, because that's just what we do everyday," Cassandra retorted sarcastically upon hearing his calm tone. Sam chuckled and nodded. "I miss the simplicity of failing a test being the worst thing to ever happen."

"Me, too," Sam agreed.

"I have no idea what that's like," Dean chimed in. The trio all grinned at each other and laughed.  Dean sucked in a sharp breath after a moment of silence. "Alright, well...Good luck stopping the whole zombie apocalypse," Dean told his brother. Sam nodded.

"Yeah. Good luck killing Death."

"Yeah."

A small smile crossed Sam's lips and he shook his head, licking his lips. "Remember when we used to just...hunt wendigos? How simple things were?" Dean raised his chin slightly in thought before shaking his head.

"Not really."

Everyone stood, and sat, around in silence for a minute, just staring at each other, before Sam pulled Ruby's knife from his jacket. "Well, um—" He held it up. "—you might need this."

Dean reached out to take the weapon from his brother when Crowley appeared out of nowhere, his voice stopping him. "Keep it." Everyone turned to see the demon hand Dean a small scythe. "Cassandra and Dean are covered. Death's own. Kills, golly, demons and angels and reapers and, rumor has it, the very thing itself," Crowley boasted. Castiel eyed him warily.

"How did you get that?" the angel questioned.

"Hello—King of the Crossroads. So, shall we?" Crowley focused his line of sight on Bobby. "Bobby, you just gonna sit there?"

"No, I'm gonna riverdance," the Hunter retorted sarcastically. Cassandra rolled her eyes and scoffed.

"I suppose if you want to impress the ladies. Bobby, Bobby, Bobby. Really wasted that crossroads deal. Fact — you get more if you phrase it properly. So, I took the liberty of adding a teeny little sub-a clause on your behalf." Everyone stared at the demon in disbelief. "What can I say? I'm an altruist. Just gonna sit there?"

Bobby wiggled his toes, looking up with wide eyes. He slid his foot off of the support and onto the ground, his left foot following next. Sucking in a deep breath, he pushed himself from the wheelchair in one swift move. Cassandra grinned and let out a laugh as everyone else watched in shock.

"Son of a bitch," Bobby muttered.

"Yes, I know. Completely worth your soul. I'm a hell of a guy."

Bobby stared back at the demon and Cassandra swore that he was about to cry. Not that she'd ever admit it, but she thought she would, too. The Hunter that had been stuck in a wheelchair for almost a year was now healed and able to walk. He could be happy again. He could be himself.

"Thanks."

"This is getting maudlin. Can we go?" Crowley inquired in a bored tone.

Dean and Bobby shared a smile before Cassandra raced forward, pulling Bobby into a hug. He instantly hugged the blonde back as she nuzzled her face in his neck. "See? Everything works out in the end," she muttered so that only he could hear. Never admitting it out loud, Bobby had grown to love Cassandra as his own daughter.

Cassandra pulled away with a grin and walked over to Crowley and Dean, climbing into the passenger seat while Dean slipped into the driver's, Crowley in the back. They slammed their doors shut and took off. Cassandra placed the sword at her feet and leaned back in the seat.

"It was Michael," she said. Dean furrowed his eyebrows and glanced over to the blonde in confusion. "That killed me. It was Michael. The angel said so himself."

"You sure?"

"I wouldn't doubt it. I'm a threat so why not get rid of me? I have no use to him and I'm still an abomination in case you've forgotten." Cassandra sighed and shook her head. "I still can't believe I trusted him."

Dean reached over and squeezed her thigh comfortingly, sending her a small smile. "Hey, he's your father. I'd probably do the same thing. You can't beat yourself up over it. What's done is done. Now, we have a shot at taking both him and Lucifer down. How strong is that Grace?" Dean asked. Cassandra shrugged.

"I haven't had the chance to test it out. I guess we just have to hope it works."

The couple and Crowley fell silent, not speaking for the first few hours. Music blasted from the radio and filled the Impala. Cassandra dozed in and out, trying to get as much rest as possible. Only once she and Dean switched seats so that he could sleep and she'd drive. It was something that had never happened before but each of them had to be at their best. This was Death they were going up against. He was worse than any other Horseman out there, a species Cassandra had not yet confronted. And she was scared shitless.

~*~

Dean stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket and let out a shaky breath, shivering slightly from the cold as he, Crowley, and Cassandra all walked down a backroad of Chicago. "Hey, let's stop for pizza," Crowley mused. Cassandra and Dean turned towards him, staring at the demon in disbelief.

"Are you kidding?" Dean asked. Crowley shrugged innocently.

"Just heard it was good. That's all," he defended. The blonde rolled her eyes and scoffed, shaking her head. Crowley nodded his head towards a warehouse in front of them. "Up ahead. Big, ugly building. Ground zero. Horseman's stable, if you will. He's in there." The wind whipped around them and Cassandra brushed her hair back, closing her eyes briefly. The moment she opened them again her lips parted slightly in shock. Just as Carthage had been crawling with Reapers, dozens of them covered the block. She looked to Crowley, wondering if he could see them, too.

"How do you know?" Dean asked, the trio stopping next to a chain-linked fence.

"Have you met me? 'cause I know. Also, the block is squirming with reapers. I'll be right back." Crowley disappeared for only a brief moment.

"He's not wrong."

Dean turned towards his girlfriend and furrowaed his eyebrows. "What?"

"What Crowley said about the Reapers," the blonde clarified. "They're everywhere, just as they had been in Carthage. Death is here in Chicago."

Suddenly Crowley appeared behind them and the couple whipped around at the sound of his voice. "Boy, is my face red. Death's not in there."

"You want to cut the cute and get to the part where you tell us where he is?" the Hunter snapped. Crowley shrugged.

"Sorry. I don't know."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute. You don't know?" Cassandra asked in disbelief.

"Signs pointed. I-I'm just as shocked as you," the demon stuttered, shaking his head. Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him.

"Bobby sold his soul for this!" Dean roared. Crowley rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"Relax. All deals are soul back or store credit. We'll catch Death in the next doomed city." He turned and started walking away and the two Hunters exchanged glances in disbelief. Were they hearing him right? He was just about to give up? The big bad King of the Crossroads was going to take a loss all because he was scared by a couple of Reapers.

"Millions, Crowley. Millions of people are about to die any minute," Cassandra called out. Crowley stopped and turned back towards her, leaning forward slightly and nodding once.

"True. So I strongly suggest we get out of here."

Cassandra and Dean walked down the streets of Chicago, hands in their pockets while the cold wind nipped at their noses. The two exchanged glances glances once they caught sight of the Impala but Cassandra stopped, turning back to look up at a pizzeria. "What?" Dean asked, spinning around to stare at her. She pursed her lips and shook her head.

"I feel something."

"It's been awhile since you've eaten."

Cassandra shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows. "No. I mean, I am hungry, but that's not it. Just go back to the Impala. I'll meet you there."

"Cassy—" Dean couldn't finish as she had already walked in the restaurant. He sighed and shook his head, crossing the street back to his car for some warmth.

Cassandra glanced at the door behind her as it slowly closed, the bell still chiming over her head. She glanced around the restaurant and her breath hitched in her throat. Every guest and employee were dead, either slumped over in their seats or sprawled across the floor, broken glass surrounding them. She pulled her angel blade from the back waistband of her jeans and slowly crept further into the restaurant.

"That won't even knick me, Cassandra Moore."

She gasped and spun around, her blue eyes wide at the sight of an old, frail man clad in a suit staring down at her. His cheeks were hollow and sunken in and he seemed to be almost too thin. Deadly thin. The Nephilim was staring back at Death himself.

"You know my name." It wasn't a question.

"I know everyone's name. I also know what you are and that you have Lucifer's Grace coursing through your veins. How did you get ahold of that?" Death questioned. The blonde stayed silent and he let out a soft chuckle, something that seemed uncharacteristic of him. "No matter. You're powerful and stronger than you've ever been. How are you after coming back to life?"

"Fine."

"Do you know who reaped you?"

Cassandra shook her head. "I'd assume no one since I'm back," she admitted shakily. She took a single step back, putting just a bit of distance between her and Death. He shook his head.

"It was me. I had the honors of reaping you, Ms. Moore. I wasn't very keen on the idea but what had to be done was done."

"Then how the hell am I alive?" she growled. He raised his eyebrows slightly, staring back at her as if it were obvious.

"In a way, God. Not directly, though," Death said simply. Cassandra's eyes widened in shock and her grip on the hilt of her blade loosened. "He obviously wanted you back for a reason. I am glad you're back. I don't take a liking to any humans but you've caught my eye for some reason."

"I'm not human."

"You're part human." Death gestured to an empty table set for two. A half-empty cup sat next to a slice of pizza. "Shall we?"

Cassandra eyed the table warily but nodded, slipping the angel blade back into her waistband and taking a seat. Death sat back down and smiled at her. "Joshua said that God was done bringing me back. I had died too many times." Death nodded.

"Yes, you have died plenty of times." He leaned forward. "If killing yourself didn't work the first two times then what made you think it'd work the next seven?" he inquired. Cassandra pressed her blood red lips into a thin line, staring back at the Horseman mutely. Her gaze drifted down to his ring before rising back to his brown eyes. "Why were you so desperate to die anyways?"

"My sister had died and I couldn't live without her. After an incident back when I was nineteen she had been the only thing still keeping me alive," Cassandra explained. Death nodded slowly.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't lie to me, Cassandra."

"I don't understand."

"You didn't try to kill yourself because of Jessica. Yes, your grief was overwhelming, but there was something else: the voices. Angel Radio was too loud and you couldn't control it. The medication helped slightly but still you believed you were going crazy. You weren't afraid of living without your sister, you were afraid of being different," Death told the Nephilim. Cassandra stared back at him blankly. She didn't know how, but he was right. It was something that had never crossed her mind before but the more she thought about it the more sense it made.

"Yeah, well, look how that turned out," she said with a slight scoff. "I'm still a freak."

"I like you as you are. You're not a monster but you're not a human. You're something pure; something that can both save and end the world. We're more alike than you'd think," Death said with a wink before taking a bite of the slice of pizza in front of him. Cassandra frowned slightly but nodded.

"Not many people like me. They've tried killing me."

"Your own father killed you."

"I was trying to forget that, but thanks," the blonde deadpanned. Death rolled his eyes and set the pizza down.

"No, Cassandra," he said in exasperation. "If your own father killed you and you are still here then you are obviously liked by someone important. I was tempted to bring you back myself but God had beat me to it."

The Nephilim opened her mouth to reply when the clatter of something iron cut her off. She glanced over Death's shoulder to see Dean staring back at them with wide eyes. Death never turned around but Cassandra arched a single eyebrow. "Smooth," she commented at Dean's flustered expression.

"Thanks for returning that. Join me, Dean. The pizza's delicious." Dean eyed him warily the moment the scythe vanished from the tile before glancing over to his girlfriend who nodded, sending him a small, reassuring smile. "Sit down." Dean slowly crept over to the two celestial beings, grabbing a chair and sliding it up next to Cassandra. "Took you long enough to find me. I've been wanting to talk to you."

Dean gulped. "I got to say—I have mixed feelings about that. S-so is this the part where—" Dean stuttered, clearing his throat in a failed attempt to regain his composure and dignity. "—where you kill me?"

Death sliced off a piece of his pizza and brought the fork to his mouth, taking a bite. He chewed before answering, looking up.

"You have an inflated sense of your importance. To a thing like me, a thing like you, well..." Death trailed off, grabbing his drink and taking up sip. "Think how you'd feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky. This is one little planet in one tiny solar system in a galaxy that's barely out of its diapers. I'm old, Dean. Very old. So I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you." Death placed a slice of pizza on the empty plate in front of him. "Eat."

Dean glanced up at the Horseman before grabbing his fork and knife, cutting off a piece and placing it in his mouth. Cassandra shifted uncomfortably under Death's stare and he arched an eyebrow at her, almost as if he were telling her what to do.

"I'm not hungry," she said in a normal tone. He nodded curtly.

"Again with the lying," he replied with a sigh. Cassandra frowned slightly but didn't respond. Death returned his attention to the Hunter as he chewed the piece of pizza. "Good, isn't it?" It was silent for a few moments before Dean nodded his head to the side.

"Well, I got to ask. How old are you?"

"As old as God. Maybe older. Neither of us can remember anymore. Life, death, chicken, egg. Regardless — at the end, I'll reap him, too," Death replied. Cassandra and Dean exchanged wide eyed glances.

"God? You'll reap God?" the blond asked in disbelief. Death nodded.

"Oh, yes. God will die, too, Dean."

Dean chuckled nervously and glanced over to his girlfriend. He took her hand in his under the table, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand. It was more for his comfort than hers, but still, Cassandra enjoyed it.

"Well, this is way above my pay grade," Dean said.

"Just a bit," the Horseman agreed.

"So, then why am I still breathing, sitting here with you? Uh...w-what do you want?"

Cassandra stayed silent in all of this. She had her time to ask Death her questions, not it was Dean's turn.

"The leash around my neck—off. Lucifer has me bound to him. Some unseemly little spell. He has me where he wants, when he wants. That's why I couldn't go to you. I had to wait for you to catch up."

Dean squinted his eyes slightly at the pissed off Horseman. He suddenly regretted asking.

"He made me his weapon. Hurricanes, floods, raising the dead. I'm more powerful than you can process, and I'm enslaved to a bratty child having a tantrum."

"And you think...I can unbind you?"

"There's your ridiculous bravado again. Of course you can't. But you can help me take the bullets out of Lucifer's gun. I understand you want this." Death held up his hand, Cassandra's and Dean's gazes instantly locking on the silver and white ring. Cassandra gulped. That was the last piece to the key that would end everything. The key that would let her find a way back to her normal life where she could create another identity and live amongst the humans as one of them.

"Yeah," Dean replied with raised eyebrows, slightly confused.

"I'm inclined to give it to you."

"To give it to us?" Cassandra repeated in disbelief.

"That's what I said."

"But what about...Chicago?" Dean inquired. Thunder clashed in the distance, a sound Cassandra had been blocking out, and residents scurried down the streets in a desperate attempt to escape the rain, Still, no one entered the pizzeria.

"I suppose it can stay. I like the pizza," Death replied simply. Cassandra and Dean exchanged glances. Death slid off his ring and held it towards the Hunters but no one reached for it. "There are conditions."

"Okay. Like?"

"You have to do whatever it takes to put Lucifer in his cell."

"Of course."

"Whatever it takes."

"That's the plan."

"No. No plan. Not yet. Your brother and Cassandra. They're the ones that can stop Lucifer. The only ones."

Dean rose his eyebrows. "What, you think—"

"I know."

Dean glanced over to his girlfriend who stared down at the table in thought. She wasn't going to make it out of this and neither was Sam.

"So, I need a promise. You're going to let your brother jump right into that fiery pit and you're going to let your girlfriend die while defeating both Michael and Lucifer." Death held out the ring, ready to drop it into one of their hands. "Well, do I have your word?"

Dean licked his lips and he seemed to be second guessing the plan. He'd lose both Sam and Cassandra in this and he wouldn't be able to get them back. When Dean didn't answer Cassandra looked up.

"Okay, yeah. Yes," she said. Dean turned and stared at her disbelief when she held her hand out as an acceptance to the deal. Death dropped the ring in her palm and she closed her fist around it.

"That had better be 'yes', Cassandra. You know you can't cheat death. Now, would you like the instruction manual?"

Cassandra Moore, a woman who had learned that there was always someone who had made life worth living, was now ready to throw both hers and Sam Winchester's lives away to save the world from Lucifer. The real question was 'is Dean ready to lose them both?'

Two chapters left!