I want you to live your life of course

But I hope you get what you dyin' for
Be careful with me, do you know what you doin'?
Whose feelings that you're hurtin' and bruisin'?

-Be Careful; by Cardi B

For the remainder of the night, Lucinda teleported herself around Louisiana. She wanted to ensure she had as much distance between herself, and all the madness she'd endured in that one night. In all of her eighteen years, never had the teen witnessed so much craziness in a span of a few hours. Between the glowing men and the Fitzpatricks' seemingly eagerness to let her go, to the weird woman who claimed to know her father, the weird noise she heard, and the man she met in the road — Lucinda couldn't make heads or tails on any of it. Her emotions were still frazzled, her brain was having problems processing everything, and it seemed as if was starting to cave in on her. How was she supposed to handle all of that? Her training with the Fitzpatricks never prepared her for an onslaught of craziness, none of it. Sure, it prepped her for some dangers that came with hunting, but never how to handle so many curve balls thrown at once. So, as a result, Lucinda chose to teleport herself around Louisiana, staying in a town or city just long enough to take what she needed before leaving. She'd hit the small towns first, stealing money from the unsuspecting and taking clothes when she could. Once she was done, she was gone. That was how her night went. Once she had what she needed, she chose to lay low in an abandoned warehouse in Shreveport. The one convenient thing was that Shreveport was relatively close to the edge of Louisiana, bordering just near Texas. For Lucinda, that was a plus, but also a bit unsettling. She never traveled outside of Louisiana before, so knowing she was so close to a sort of freedom made her blood run cold. She didn't know what to expect, and that terrified her.

Sighing, the Nephilim rested her head against the cold wall of the warehouse. She'd been in there for only a few hours, hoping she'd regain enough strength to continue her travels once light came out. While Lucinda rarely ever slept, something she couldn't quite understand, that didn't mean she was immune to exhaustion. On more than one occasion, the teen had nearly collapsed from exhaustion. She'd believed that her ability to sleep less than an average human made her stronger and better, but she came to see her limitations in no time. That was one thing the teen found useful in her training and experience, she learned, very quickly her limitations in what she could and couldn't do. But the mental and emotional training — that was becoming something else entirely. Maybe Lucinda wasn't as well-trained in those areas as she once thought. It hurt to think that way, but that had to be the truth. Why else would she crack so easily under that kind of pressure? As badly as the Nephilim wanted to believe she was experienced, she wasn't good enough, apparently. Choosing to close her eyes for just a moment, Lucinda tried to clear her mind and keep herself as calm as possible. Her powers couldn't go haywire, not in that moment. She finally had a moment of peace, and she wanted to enjoy it. That wasn't asking too much. Then again, Lucinda knew better than to hope for improvement. She had to understand that things were unpredictable, and she couldn't keep herself alive on hope alone.

"Just stay calm," she whispered, taking a deep breath. "Don't let your emotions take control. That's when things start to get really bad." Letting out the breath, Lucinda opened her eyes and looked at the warehouse ceiling in disinterest. Aside from resting, she had no idea what else she was supposed to do. She brought with her minimal food considering she rarely ever ate to begin with. That seemed to be another thing about the teen that just didn't make sense. Naturally, Lucinda could eat, and she did find it a tad enjoyable, but she wasn't as hungry as most other people. There were so many things about Lucinda's life that didn't make sense, and in the deep recesses of her mind, she was starting to chastise herself for not listening to Amal. If she'd paid attention to her, then maybe those questions the teen had could've been answered. But the uncertainty that came with a stranger claiming things like that were high. Lucinda never mentioned her father outside of the Fitzpatrick home. In fact, she hadn't talked about him in years. She simply assumed he wasn't important enough to talk about, to think about. But how could a stranger like Amal know anything on Lucinda's father? Were there things Margo and Otis kept secret from her? Letting out a frustrated growl, she slammed a hand on the concrete ground, feeling frustrated and overwhelmed. She'd have to figure something out quick. She couldn't keep thinking and behaving the way she was, it was getting her nowhere.

O.O.O.O

"You've lost her." The statement was simple, but there was a coldness behind it that would send anyone in the vicinity trembling in fear. Another mission to hunt the Nephilim resulted in a failure. It was becoming a common occurrence, one that was becoming increasingly frustrating. How could one Nephilim avoid capture for so long? Certainly, there were a small handful who managed to make it to adulthood, but they were always found and killed. Heaven found itself even luckier if the half-breed was killed before its birth. Considering the human mother would die anyway, what difference would her death make?* But that one Nephilim, that one little pain in the ass, seemed to know how to avoid capture. First, she remained undetected for eighteen years, minus the sporadic appearances every now and again, but she suddenly pops up and remains in the public eye? And not a single angel could get her? How was that even possible.

"I-It would, uh, seem so, sir."

"Tell me, how is it so difficult to find and kill one Nephilim?"

"She was unpredictable."

"I'm sorry?"

"Her powers. They're unpredictable."

"She's strong, which could mean that either a Seraphim or an Archangel sired her."

"Are you suggesting. . . .?" There was a brief pause. "My brother has been away from Heaven for quite some time. I wouldn't put it past him to behave in such a manner. But he is not stupid enough to sire a half-breed."

"W-We didn't mean to imply, sir. . . ."

"We were merely suggesting one or the other."

"Gabriel's abandonment; he learned that from Father. When things got too much, he'd run away. He's lived on Earth for thousands of years, I'm sure he's seen enough of humanity to sympathize them."*

There was a moment of silence. The two angels standing before Michael were unsure on how to proceed. The Archangel looked deep in thought, and it was almost impossible to tell what he was thinking about. The statement on Gabriel had a hint of something that couldn't quite be identified, but it was unsettling nonetheless.

"You can go now," was Michael's only response after a minute had gone by.

"And the Nephilim?"

"I trust she'll be found in due time."

O.O.O.O

There were a lot of things Gabriel wished he'd done differently. He wished he fought for Macey to stay the day she left; he wished he told her the truth about himself; he wished he'd been the one to raise his child — he wished, he wished, he wished. Of course, there was nothing for the Archangel to do except look for his missing child. In Gabriel's eyes, he was fifteen years too late to try and be a father, but that wouldn't stop him from at least trying. He wanted some kind of relationship with her, he wanted to show that he felt guilt and remorse for each day he wasn't in her life. How she would react would be a bit unpredictable. She could be ecstatic at the thought of meeting her father, or she would be furious. Gabriel counted on the latter happening. After all, he'd spent the first fifteen years after her birth trying to forget her. Women and sex and candy — anything that would come off as a distraction. It was pitiful. Gabriel had, in a way, turned out to be just like his own father; abandoning his family, refusing to return for any reason. He thought it was pathetic, even if he believed it to be for his own good.

Letting out a sigh, the Archangel rubbed his face before leaning back in his seat. The one thing he was happy for was Amal's dedication in finding his daughter. Gabriel knew he had to be careful with how he exposed himself in the public eye, but he also knew he wanted nothing more than to find his child. His conflicting emotions were making things harder than they needed to be. Way harder.

O.O.O.O

Lucinda hardly slept a wink that night. It was almost as if she were incapable of doing so. It definitely put a strain on everything, but she knew that she'd have to leave soon. The sun was starting to shine through some of the openings in the warehouse, and the Nephilim knew that if she stayed any longer, she'd be in big trouble. The glowing attackers could show up again, and who knows what else. Maybe Amal, or the guy she met on the road. Not only that, but that strange headache-inducing noise. Slowly standing up, the teen slung her backpack — one she'd stolen among countless other things — on and teleported herself out of the warehouse. Without so much as a second thought, once she appeared on the side of a road, Lucinda started walking. The morning was cool, and the sun was already partially in the sky. Hardly any cars were driving by, which was amazing. Lucinda was able to use the quiet she had to try and relax. She couldn't afford to have herself overthink, it would cause her more harm than good. But there was just one thing she needed to figure out. Shrugging off her bag, she unzipped it and took out the blade. She didn't have much time to study it before, but considering she was alone at the moment, she thought she could give it chance. The one thing Lucinda couldn't understand was the material it was made of. It looked to be made completely out of silver, but it was so sleek, so. . . .clean.

Gently moving her fingers down the blade, Lucinda used her index finger to poke the tip of the blade, wincing slightly at the sting. Looking at her finger, she saw a drop of blood come on the tip of her finger.

"Sharper than I thought," Lucinda murmured.* Letting out a huff, she shoved the blade back into her backpack. Once zipped and slung back on her shoulder, the teen kept walking. If she could keep going, get somewhere safe until everything calmed down, then at least she'd be good for a little while.

(A/N):

First off, I'm sorry for the wait on this chapter. School and work have been kicking my ass, so I had to put this off until I had everything pretty much done and figured out. But, hopefully, you guys can forgive me on that. I'll try and not put this off for so long. Other than that, I hope you guys can leave any thoughts you have on the story so far. It's 10 chapters in and I still don't know how you guys feel on it or what your thoughts are. I've gotten a few reviews, and I appreciate it, but some constructive criticism is always welcome.

The SPN fandom does not belong to me. All I own are my OCs, my subplots, and a growing excitement for INFINITY WAR. If you've got ideas for an OC or a subplot, PM me or leave a review. I'll add them in as soon as possible.

On that note, I'll see you guys on the flip side.

Rudie Fenton