Gumdrops, bears in the gummy form, and the fact I don't own Supernatural.

Okay. How's it going so far? I want to be clear: Dean was trying to give the news that Cas raised him up at the end of the last chapter. I went over it (coincidentally, after I posted it) and was sort of confused. All clear? Okay. Let's continue!

What were they going to do about destiny? It was very clear that Lucy was in distress. She would not stop baking! And if she did, she was cleaning up from her baking! There was no way to win! It seemed they had lost Lucy to the dark (and slightly delicious) side. Dean had certainly gained at least ten pounds by the time Sam pulled him away from the Greif Cookies.

"Stop eating! I need you to have my back, and I can't count of you if you are hobbling around behind me with all your excess weight!" Sam yelled at him as he shoved the last of his chocolate chip cookie into his mouth.

"I think she dosed those with cocaine or something!" Dean brushed the crumbs from his face and wiped the chocolate onto his shirt.

"I know," Sam agreed. "While you were in Hell, she came to Bobby's and baked in your honor. It's like serial baking!"

"Dean!" Lucy called from the kitchen. "Your pie is done!" Sam glared at him.

"You requested a freaking pie?"

"What can I say?" Dean shrugged. "You forgot the pie." And he walked into the kitchen, rubbing his hands together.

"How is he still hungry?" Marie asked, sneaking up behind Sam, with whom she was still in love. He Jumped up, surprised with Marie's level of sneakiness.

"That man is like a bottomless pit when it comes to pie." They nodded. In the kitchen, Lucy was pulling her oven mitts off of her hands. She was sniffing the heat radiating from her freshly baked Apple Pie, just for Dean. He plopped down on one of the stools by the kitchen counter. He was about to dig in, with or without a fork, when something struck him. The look on Lucy's face was downright heartbreaking. He sighed and dropped his hands.

"What's going on with you?" He spoke, tilting his head to the left a little. She faked a smile.

"Nothing," She matched his head tilt mockingly.

"Don't lie to me. I've been to Hell. I know a thing or two about liars." She sighed. A tear slipped from her tightly closed eyes. She opened them back up.

"I don't want to die, Dean!" She finally gasped. "I'm sixteen, and, as far as all my teachers say, I have a bright future. And unless that light is hellfire, I just don't see it anymore!"

"Don't let these things define you, Lucy. I went to Hell! Everything is fine now! I didn't want to die either; but I did. And everything worked itself out!"

"Are you trying to tell me that death isn't the end? Because I know you don't want me to win. I don't even want me to win! Who would?" Lucy slammed her hands down on the counter and all was silent. She took a deep breath.

"If you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go out for a while. Alone." And with that, Lucy went to her room to change her clothes, and then left the house.

Lucy has a secret. Not her demon secret, not the Winchesters, and not the fact that her mother went to Hell for her. No, it wasn't as severe as any of that, but it was her thing and hers alone. Not even Marie knew. She plays piano. And she was amazing. When she was fourteen, after her mom died, she took a job at Only a Song, the local music. She agreed to go without pay in exchange for free lessons. And she had been playing for two years. Her teacher was certain that she was made for music. If only she knew Lucy's 'destiny'. Last year Lucy had started being paid. The teacher (and owner) insisted it was an honor to teach such a 'prodigy' and she deserved her pay. So when Lucy had a problem a good whipping of the batter couldn't solve, she headed to the music store. It was her creative release. She walked into the store and looked around. The store was open, but no one was at the Baby Grand. She sat down at it, dropped her bag and laid her hands upon the keys. They felt so good against her fingers. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began playing. She wasn't sure what she was playing. She was sure it was a mixture of all the music she'd learned over the years. She played and played, letting all her frustration flow out through her fingers. She didn't need sheet music. She knew the notes, she knew the sounds they made and she knew how they would sound where she placed them. She concluded her whim piece and looked up. She didn't realize she had summoned a crowd. The people clapped and turned away, but there was one face that didn't go. It was the handsome face of a boy about her age, with light brown wavy hair and a few well placed freckles.

"I could have sworn that was the song of an angel. Are you sure you're not one?" He asked, laughing at himself.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure." She smiled. "I'm Lucy."

"Wendell," He answered. Lucy scooted over on the bench.

"Have a seat," She offered. He sat down, looking at her in awe. It seemed he had just realized she had no sheet music.

"Where did you learn to do that?" He was still looking at her in wonder.

"Here," she motioned around the store. "And, no, I'm not some sneaky way of getting you to pay for lessons." They both laughed at that. There was a moment of comfortable silence.

"So, what inspired that emotional piece?" Wendell questioned.

"I have a… problem."

"How so?" He asked again.

"Let's say, I'm a demon. I have to fight an angel to the death, and if I win, Hell wins. I don't want to die, but I don't want Hell to win. What do I do?" He thought it was a metaphor. Boy was he wrong.

"Do you have to fight?" He asked, going with her 'metaphor'.

"If I don't fight, I die."

"Convince the angel not to fight." She thought about that.

"Angels can be pretty hard headed."

"Connect to her humanity. If she has any, being an angel." He laughed, and she smiled. Strangers really can be the best therapists.

"Thanks for the advice. I should get going." Lucy got up to go, but Wendell grabbed her arm.

"Play me another song before you go?" She sat back down and nodded.

"Any requests?"

"Play what you feel." She did. She hit the keys where they sounded best, and they really did. It was a cheerful song, but it had a strong emotional tint in the middle. And it ended with a dramatic tune. She didn't like how sad it sounded. It felt too familiar. But that was what Wendell had asked for. 'What she felt.'

"Are you ready yet?" Dean said from the doorway, where, apparently, he had been standing throughout the entire song. Lucy jumped and pressed a hand to her heart.

"I told you I was going alone!"

"Marie sent me." Lucy sighed and stood. She grabbed her bag and started to head out when Wendell grabbed her hand. He pulled out a Sharpie and wrote his cell phone number on her. She waved goodbye and walked into the cool late afternoon air. "I didn't know you played."

"And that's how I liked it." She replied coolly.

"You're really good. Why don't you want people to know?" He shoved her a little with his shoulder.

"It's my 'emotional release'. I don't want it to be a professional thing. It would stop being my thing if I did it for everyone else."

"You played for that boy. Do you like him?"

"I don't know him!"

"That hardly matters. Someone's getting laid!" He said sing-song. She shoved him back. And they ran straight into Castiel.