I suppose I always knew it was going to end this way.
I could tell, with every breath I took, with every step I made, I knew that this would be my fate.
I didn't know exactly what, and I didn't know how, but I always knew.
Now that I'm here, it doesn't hurt as much; I knew it was coming.
And maybe that was the worst thing of all. Because nothing is worse than knowing your own future.
Here they stand.
Sam and Adam.
Lucifer and Michael.
Ready for the final fight, the war to end all wars.
And here I am.
In the cemetery.
Awaiting my death.
I have known since Castiel first appeared in the barn, greeting Dean, Bobby and myself in a flash of sparks and lightning, that this was to be my fate.
The way he looked at me, as though he knew the fate I was to have. The fate of being the vessel for the most vicious archangel's lover.
I didn't know that was my fate at the time, no. I only knew from the way the angels looked at me, that they all knew what was to become of me. Even Anna, who tore out her grace and became the human she was when she met me, somehow knew my destiny.
Yet I did not.
Not until Lucifer himself was set free.
The first night of the apocalypse, he came to me in a dream. I was unable to do anything but listen and feel as he spoke to me, stroking my cheek in a way that reminded me of a predator taunting its prey.
He told me that, much like the Winchesters, I too, was meant to be a vessel. But not just for any old angel. I was meant to be the vessel for an angel who had been locked away, a mere century after Gadreel was imprisoned for letting him enter the Garden.
Her name had been forgotten over the centuries, and even he did not remember, but he did remember what she had been locked away for:
She had been Lucifer's lover, and therefore part of the reason why he fell.
"Angels are not meant to fall in love," Lucifer told me. "And so Michael took that as yet another reason to cast me into Hell."
I had asked why she wasn't cast out too. He told me that because she had not been involved in the rebellion, she was not seen as such a threat as to be cast out. But she was imprisoned for showing semblance of free will in her act of love for Lucifer.
I was meant to be her vessel. Apparently, he knew that once he was released, she would feel it. All angels would feel it, but she especially, for her connection to Lucifer had been burning strong, and with his freedom came a spark of hope in her own heart that maybe she too, could be freed.
And as much as I felt sorry for her, as much as I truly wished to help her, I wouldn't give Lucifer the pleasure of having some he loved back. He could have been lying about the entire thing anyway, I justified.
So when I awoke from the dream, drenched in sweat and shaking with fear, I told myself that I would never, never, let the angel in. I would not give Lucifer the satisfaction.
And yet I stand here.
On the battleground.
Seconds ticking by as the last day of humanity holds its breath.
I know I told myself that I wouldn't interfere, that I couldn't interfere, but I have decided against it. I can't let Sam do this alone.
Swallowing my fear, I step out from behind a gravestone. I know that they sensed me anyway, but it gave me a sense of security.
They turn to me. I ignore Michael, instead looking straight to Lucifer. He stares back at me with the eyes of the man I love, yet colder and harder.
"Lucifer," I begin. I know that the chances of this working are very slim, but if it resulted with saving Sam, then it would all be worth it.
"Clarissa, you have no role here." I stare into his eyes, forcing myself to keep eye contact.
"I wish to make a deal." He lets out a bark of laughter.
"I'm not some puny crossroads demon. I don't make deals." I glance at the Impala cruising into the cemetery. I know that Dean is probably freaking out from seeing me here, attempting to speak with Lucifer.
Tearing my eyes away from him, I look back to Lucifer. If I can just make this work, then maybe it'll all be fine . . .
"I'm not talking about selling my soul." Michael scowls, and begins to march towards me, but Lucifer blocks his path.
"Then what are you here for," Lucifer growls. I gulp.
"The angel you told me of," Dean gets out of his car. His eyes are wide to see me negotiating with the Devil. "- if I allow her to possess me, will you allow Sam to speak to Dean?" It's stupid, and I know this, but it's not just my ass that's on the line, it's the whole world. Allowing one tiny human to give up control of her body so the two most important men in the world can speak is a tiny price to pay.
Lucifer's eyes grow wide, and he begins chuckling. I hold my ground as he stalks closer.
"Do you really think that I would give Sam consciousness just so he can throw me back into the Cage? Do you really think that I'm that stupid?"
"You said you loved her. Love doesn't just go away." Something shifts in his eyes as Michael starts laughing from behind Lucifer.
"Oh, is this what it's about? Your poor little lover, stuck up in Heaven's prison, tortured for all of eternity." Lucifer turns around to face Michael. Michael smirks, then with a snap of his fingers I find myself floating in the air, my limbs frozen in place.
"Then I suppose it would be absolutely horrible if I just happened to snap her neck?" He's trying to make Lucifer angry. He's trying to start the fight. My eyes widen, but Michael takes this for fear of death. His smirk grows bigger. Lucifer raises his hand to snap, so he can undo what Michael has done to me, but Michael's too fast. With the flick of his wrist, he slams me against a headstone, and the world goes black.
Everything is fuzzy, but I can hear the sound of someone speaking . . . wait a minute . . . I – I know this person.
I force myself to open my eyes, and everything rushes into focus.
Lucifer.
I feel gravel and grass against my cheek.
The cemetery.
A figure stands in front of another figure in the distance.
Michael.
They seem so far away, yet at the same time so close.
A deal.
The grass tickles my cheek as a wind starts up. I attempt to climb to my feet, but it feels like I have boulders jutting into my back. All I can do is watch as the scene unfolds.
Sam walks further into the patch of open grass. He throws something - a set of rings - down onto the ground.
The Cage.
My eyes widen. No no no no no, I think. Pushing past the stabbing feeling of whatever's on my back, I try to stand up, barely managing to.
"Sam no!" I yell, but my voice comes out weaker than I thought.
I catch his eye for a moment, and I see him mouth "I'm sorry," and then the ground opens up beneath my feet. My hands are clawing at the earth as I try to keep myself from falling, but to no avail. The light above me disappears as two more silhouettes fall into the pit. Sam and Michael.
I'm falling into Hell, and it's all my fault.
I suppose I always knew it was going to end this way.
I could tell, with every breath I took, with every step I made, I knew that this would be my fate.
I didn't know exactly what, and I didn't know how, but I always knew.
Now that I'm here, it doesn't hurt as much; I knew it was coming.
And maybe that was the worst thing of all. Because nothing is worse than knowing your own future.