"Well, I guess if we can't find a righteous bone in a friggin' nunnery crypt…" Dean trailed off with a shrug, and I shook my head. I couldn't believe we were doing this. Yeah, it was a good idea, but breaking into a crypt full of dead nuns to steal a bone felt like one of the more blasphemous things we'd done over the years.

"Alright, here, listen to this," Sam said as he looked down at a record book of all the dead nuns. "Sister Mary Benedict, uh, taught the learning impaired and died at age 23."

"Eh, it's a little young," Dean said. "Find someone who's had time to cook."

"Okay, well, there was, uh…here—Sister Mary Eunice. Uh, fed the poor, became Mother Superior at age 60."

"Sounds political. Power corrupts."

I rolled my eyes as Sam huffed, "Right." He flipped through the book. "Um…listen to this—Sister Mary Constant, 83 years of quiet, humble, nun-like goodness. What d'you think?"

Dean and I looked over at the record book, reading the list of all the things Sister Mary Constant had done in her life. "Wow!" Dean said, sounding impressed. "I wanna be more righteous just reading this!"

Sam nodded. "Exactly."

"Alright, well, I lay odds on her." Dean shined his flashlight around and found the plaque labeling Sister Mary Constant's coffin. "Well, let's bone this nun." Sam made a face, and I rolled my eyes and scoffed. Dean frowned and ducked his head in shame. "…Sorry." Then he proceeded to smash the plaque open with a mallet, and we sifted through Sister Mary Constant's bones until we found the right one to get the job done.

"I never wanna do that again," I said as we walked back to the car.

"I know what you mean," Dean agreed. "I feel dirty."

"Maybe we should all go to confessional or something," I joked.

"That'll be the day."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Sister Mary Constant's bone was the last ingredient we needed, excluding the blood of the father of fallen humanity. Which meant that it was time to summon my dear old dad again.

We did the spell, glancing around the room as flames erupted in the bowl and died down again, but Crowley was nowhere to be found. "Is he tryin' to make a grand entrance or…?" Dean wondered.

I shrugged as Sam said, "I dunno…"

"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaimed. "He's standing us up!"

"Well, we summoned him. Doesn't he kinda have to—"

"If Crowley wants to screw you," Dean interrupted, "he'll screw you." I had to agree.

"Or he can't come 'cause something went wrong," Sam suggested.

"Maybe," Dean said, but he didn't sound too convinced. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Sam pulled out his gun and advanced as Dean said, "Maybe it's good news."

Sam looked through the small hole in the door then opened the door and let Meg inside. "You deal with him," the demon said exasperatedly. "I can't anymore."

"You might wanna be more specific," Dean said.

"I was laying low halfway across the world when emo boy pops up outta nowhere and zaps me right back here."

"Why?"

"Go ask him. He was your boyfriend first." Meg gave Dean a falsely sweet smile, and the older Winchester rolled his eyes and stalked out of the cabin.

"So where'd you run off to?" I asked Meg.

She smirked. "One of my many secret hideouts. Forgive me if I don't feel like sharing. What have you three been up to?"

"Oh, y'know, hunting down the Alpha vampire, stealing a bone from a nun—the usual."

Meg let out a short bark of laughter. "Sounds like my kinda party. Maybe I should've stuck around. You hear anything from the Prophet lately?"

I dropped my eyes, brushing my hand over the phone in my back pocket. "I've been calling at least two or three times a day for the past week—I've got nothing."

"You think something's up?"

"I'd like to say no, but…"

"Well, after we kill Dick, we'll go after the kid," she said with a shrug. "We just gotta prioritize."

Sam was watching our exchange curiously, and he finally said, "I see what Dean meant now. When did you two get so close?"

Meg and I exchanged a look, and I was actually debating telling him the truth when Dean and Cas suddenly appeared in the cabin. "Now, you understand I don't participate in aggressive activity," Castiel said as he walked over to the table. He picked up the nun's bone and sniffed it. "Mm. Sister Mary Constant. Good choice."

"Why'd you go to Meg, Cas?" Dean asked.

"When I left, I wanted to observe the flowers," Cas said, "and fruit. Flowers come first, obviously. But I heard nothing from them."

Sam frowned. "You heard nothing from who?"

"The Garrison."

"What happened to the Garrison?"

"Well, finally, the silence was deafening, so I went to look…to the home of the Prophet." I suddenly knew where this was going. Sam must have seen the look on my face, for he moved closer to me and rested his hand on my lower back. "You know, Leviathan can kill angels," Castiel said offhandedly. "There's a reason why Father locked them in Purgatory. They're the piranha that would eat the whole aquarium. They're gone. The entire Garrison—dead. If there's anyone left at all, they're in hiding."

Dean shook his head rapidly. "Um, I-I'm sorry—if the angels are dead, where's Kevin?"

"I could steal them from their cages, the monkeys," Castiel said thoughtfully, staring off into a corner of the room. "But where would I put them all?"

"Hey!" Dean exclaimed, clapping his hands in the angel's face. "Focus! Is Kevin alive?"

"I don't wanna fight," the angel said automatically, and Dean frowned.

"No, I'm not—" The hunter took a deep breath, and, in a very forced voice said, "We're worried."

Cas chose to look at me as he answered, sensing my distress, and he gazed at me apologetically. "They took him," he said slowly.

I bit my lip. "Is he—?"

"He's alive," Castiel said. He let out a long sigh and broke eye contact. "I felt such responsibility, but it's in your hands now."

"What the hell d'you mean, 'it's in our hands now?!'" I snapped, getting angry despite my best efforts. "Your siblings are the ones who fucked up at keeping him safe! If the Leviathans have him, you need to get him back!"

The angel gave me a terrified look and backed up. "Please don't be mad," he begged. I opened my mouth to yell at him, but Sam's hand slid up my back and squeezed my shoulder gently, and I pressed my lips together and looked away.

"Guys, what's all that?" Meg asked suddenly, nodding her head at the summoning supplies on the table.

"We called Crowley," Sam said.

"You what?"

"Don't worry," Dean assured her. "He never showed."

Meg's eyes went wide. "What d'you mean, he never—"

"D'you see him anywhere? He stood us up."

"Well, I'm sorry about that, but I'm outie." She hurried toward the door as she said, "He could still—"

"Show up at any time," a familiar voice drawled, and Crowley appeared in the middle of the room. He smirked widely. "Hello, boys. Sorry I'm late." His eyes swept around the room, taking note of Meg and Castiel. "This is an embarrassment of riches." Meg took off running for the door and just reached it when Crowley flashed in front of her. "Stay, won't you? There's really nowhere to run." Meg took a few steps back, and Crowley narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't even think of smoking out, pussycat. I've got eyes all over the place."

Both Castiel and I stepped forward, and I noticed that Cas seemed to have no problem fighting if Meg was in danger. "Leave her be," the angel growled, but his somewhat threatening demeanor faltered as Crowley looked at him curiously.

"Castiel," the King of Hell said. "When we last spoke, you—well, enslaved me. I'm confused. Why aren't you dead?"

The angel shrugged, not meeting Crowley's eye. "I-I…don't know."

"Well, d'you want to be?" Crowley threatened. "'Cause I can help with that!"

"Alright, enough," Dean said, sounding annoyed.

"It's enough when I say. I came here to help you. I find out you've been lying to me, harboring an angel, and not just any angel—the one angel I most want to crush between my teeth."

"Oh, so you can crush angels now, huh?" Meg said skeptically, and I wanted to slap her for being so stupid and talking to Crowley like that in her current situation.

"You bore me, y'know that?" Crowley said to her. "You have no sense of poetry." He turned to Castiel. "Now, what d'you have to say for yourself?"

The angel shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "Well, I'm still, uh, honing my communication strategy. I haven't even been back to Heaven. I-I keep thinking there are no insects up there, but here we have trillions." Crowley gave Dean a bewildered look, and Dean shrugged. "You know, they're making honey and silk and…" Castiel smiled. "…miracles, really."

"What are you talking about?" Crowley asked confusedly.

"Um, preferring insects to angels, I guess. Here, I can offer a token, if you like." Castiel put his hand in the pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a Ziplock bag full of honey. He crossed over to the King and held it up proudly. "It's honey. I-I collected it myself."

Crowley glanced at Dean again, as though waiting for Dean to say that it was a joke. Finally, he looked back at the angel. "You're off your rocker," he said with a nod. He glanced around at all of us. "He's off his rocker—is that it?" He shook his head at Castiel. "Karma's a bitch, isn't it?" Cas frowned and dejectedly stuffed the bag of honey back in his pocket as Crowley helped himself to some of our whiskey.

"Look," Dean said, "did you come here to, uh, donkey punch your old grudges or to help us end Dick? Pick a battle!"

"Well, I'm vexed," Crowley said with a shrug. "I'd like to do both. But where's the fun in clobbering a ball of wet fur? Text me when Sparkles here retrieves his marbles, I suppose. Meanwhile…" He pulled a vial of blood out of his jacket pocket. "…a prezzie."

"Really?" Sam said suspiciously. "Just boxed up and ready to go?"

"I'm a model of efficiency."

"Is that right? Then why were you late?"

"Dick had me in a devil trap," Crowley said defensively. "He's not an idiot. He knows what you're after."

"So what did he offer you?"

Crowley smirked. "A fair deal in exchange for giving you the wrong blood. It's demon, but is it mine?" He paused for dramatic effect. "It's my blood. Real deal."

"And why should we trust you?" Dean asked.

"Good God, don't!" Crowley said. "Never trust anyone. A lesson I learned from my last business partner," he said, side-eyeing Castiel, who looked away guiltily.

"Alright. Give us the blood."

"Certainly." He nodded then said offhandedly, "Oh, bonus. Meg, I'm gonna scoop you up, take you home, and roast you till you're jerky." Both Cas and I moved forward again, and Crowley grinned and said, "But not…yet. Cas can have you for now. Hilariously, it seems he'd be upset at losing you. And the boys need Cas to get Dick." He cocked an eyebrow at the angel. "Don't they, Cas?"

Castiel frowned, staring at the ground, and I watched him curiously. What's Crowley talking about? "Oh, I-I don't fight anymore," Cas said nervously.

"Come on. Sadly, given the particulars of your enemy, you're vital." With that, Crowley tossed the vial of blood at Sam, who just barely caught it, and he disappeared.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"Well, one thing's for sure," Dean said as he scanned Kevin's notebook one last time, "we only get one shot." He surveyed the table, which was laden with candles, containers of blood, and a bowl holding Sister Mary Constant's bone. "This thing don't reload."

I combined Castiel's and the Alpha's blood as Sam said, "You think Crowley's, uh—"

"Double-crossing us?" Dean finished.

"Yeah."

"You've gotta figure who he wants dead more—us or Dick."

"Depends what Dick offered. Here we go." Sam added what was hopefully Crowley's blood to the mixture and picked it up, holding it over the bone. "Okay, um, so do we, uh…?"

Dean shook his head. "Uh, there's no magic words—nothing. We just…just go."

Sam nodded once. "Alright, then." He poured the combined blood over the bone, and the three of us stared intently at it, waiting for something to happen.

"Where's all the thunder and lightning?" Dean wondered.

"Yeah, that was a little too anticlimactic for my liking," I added quietly.

Sam shrugged. "Maybe it worked?"

"Awesome," Dean huffed.

Suddenly, there was the sound of angel wings, and Castiel appeared behind the boys. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder and grinned, and his other hand was balancing plates of sandwiches. "So, none of this should cause you any ill effect," Cas said. "I went to a little farm in Normandy for the wheat and the lettuce and tomato and—and I thoroughly examined and comforted the pig before I…slaughtered it for the ham." I made a face, and Castiel turned to me. "I also picked basil, and I milked the goat and made the cheese myself," he said, handing me the plate on top. "I washed my hands three times before making yours. No meat came in contact with it." I was unable to stop myself from smiling at the earnest look on his face, and I took the sandwich gratefully. "Here," he said to the boys. "You need your strength."

Dean nodded and took his plate. "Thanks, Cas."

The angel held the third plate out to Sam, but the younger Winchester ignored him, saying, "Hey, Cas, why was Crowley so certain that you need to come with us?"

"Crowley's wrong," Castiel said hastily. "I'll be waiting right here." He thrust the plate into Sam's hands. "But, please—accept this sandwich as a gesture of solidarity." The angel disappeared, but I saw him walking around outside through the dirty window. It looked like he was following a butterfly.

"Well, you heard him," Dean said, lifting his sandwich to his mouth. "We need our strength." He took a bite, and he nodded satisfactorily. "Not bad."

I cleared off the table, and the three of us sat down to eat. "So what's the plan?" I asked. "Hack into the video feed to find him and attempt a covert takedown?"

"Pretty much."

I frowned. "There's no way that could go wrong."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "You got a better plan?"

"Not so much," I admitted.

"Then shut it."

"Aye, aye, captain." I watched Cas through the window for a moment. "D'you really think he's telling the truth?"

"About what?"

"About us not needing him."

"Why would we need him?" Dean said a little defensively, and I sighed.

"Well, besides the fact that it'd be nice to have an angel fighting with us…" I said, narrowing my eyes at him, and he huffed. "But Crowley seemed pretty sure we'd need him."

"And did you see how Cas reacted?" Sam said, nodding in agreement. "Like he knew what Crowley was talking about."

"It's not like we can force him to come with us," Dean said. "The guy would probably just zap off to the Amazon or somethin'."

"So I guess we're on our own, then," I muttered.

Dean smirked. "That's never stopped us before."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Sam opened his laptop and pulled up the program Charlie had installed on it as we came to a stop across the street from Sucrocorp.

"You got it yet?" Dean asked.

Sam was quiet for a minute then said, "Here we go." I leaned over the seat and saw camera footage of a board room where Dick Roman was leading some kind of meeting. "Thank you, Charlie, wherever you are," Sam said.

"Got ya, Dick," Dean said triumphantly.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, that's, uh, the second floor, and—" He broke off as the footage changed, showing Dick sitting alone at his desk. "—and then…what's that?!"

"What the hell?!" Dean exclaimed as he looked at the screen. "Is that Dick?!"

The footage changed again, showing Dick walking down a hallway. "And that's Dick," Sam said.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean ran a hand over his face and said, "Cycle through again."

"And keep an eye out for Kevin," I added. "Dick would probably wanna keep him close."

Sam started to do as we said, but he got distracted as a pickup truck pulled up right in front of Sucrocorp. A woman got out, and Sam grabbed the binoculars. "That's the maid from the motel…" he said slowly.

Dean frowned. "What motel?"

Sam didn't answer, still looking through the binoculars. "Oh, no," he breathed. "Oh, Bobby, what are you doing?!"

"Bobby?" I echoed confusedly.

"Wait, are you sayin' that Bobby—"

"Look, uh, just wait here," Sam interrupted as he put down the binoculars.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

"You got the weapon, and eyes on Dick, plural. I'll take care of Bobby." The younger Winchester got out of the car.

"Sam!" I called.

Dean reached for his brother's arm. "Hey!"

"Shut up!" Sam snapped. Then he slammed the door and took off toward Sucrocorp.

"Should one of us go after him?" I asked worriedly.

"Give him a few minutes," Dean said reluctantly. "It'll be easier for him to keep outta sight of the cameras on his own."

About ten minutes passed. I reached toward the door handle, prepared to go find Sam. "Maybe I should—"

"Wait," Dean interrupted. "There."

We looked across the road and saw Sam walking toward us with the maid cradled in his arms. I got out of the car and held open the door for Sam as he deposited the maid in the backseat. "What happened?" I asked as I got back in the car.

Sam rubbed his throat, making a face, and I noticed that bruises were starting to appear. "He went vengeful," he said simply, not wanting to say more.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Let's just get her to a hospital."

"So, what, you're sayin' we just leave?" Dean asked disbelievingly. "We're already here! We got the weapon! Dick Roman's right inside!"

"D'you know which one he is?" Sam challenged. "Because, if you do, sure, let's go ahead and kill him."

Dean's face fell, and he cranked up the car. "Alright, alright. Hospital, it is."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"She's fine," Sam said as he hung up his cell phone. "Checking outta the hospital tonight."

"Well, that's positive," Castiel said as he sat more sandwiches in front of us then walked over to the sink to start washing dishes.

Meg cocked an eyebrow. "Tell me again why you turned tail for some maid? You were right there."

"Shut up, Meg," Dean grumbled.

"Because Dick made more Dicks," Sam explained. "He must've kept a chunk of the original Dick Roman somewhere. They'd all have to touch it."

I watched Castiel curiously as his shoulders tensed and he focused intently on drying the dish in his hand. Dean seemed to notice, too, for he said, "Hey, shifty, what's your problem?"

Castiel's head jerked up. "Do we need a cat?" he deflected. "Doesn't this place feel one species short?"

"Y'know, I think Feathers may be onto something," I agreed, unable to help myself, and the angel grinned at me.

That grin faded quickly as Dean asked, "You got somethin' to say on the topic of Dicks? Crowley was pretty sure that you could help."

"I can't help," Castiel insisted somewhat desperately. "You understand? I can't." He stared down at the ground shamefully. "I destroyed…everything, and I will destroy everything again. Can we please just leave it at that?"

"No," Dean said sternly as he got to his feet. "No, we can't."

"Dean…" Sam warned, but his brother ignored him.

"We can't leave it," Dean continued harshly. "You let these friggin' things in. So you don't get to make a sandwich; you don't get a damned cat. Nobody cares that you're broken, Cas! Clean up your mess!"

Castiel put down the dish he was holding and walked over to Dean. For a moment, I thought he was actually going to get angry and defend himself. Instead, a small smile crossed his face and he said, "You know…we should play Twister." And then he disappeared.

Meg shook her head. "Nice. You scared off the Empire's only hope."

Dean let out a long, low breath and closed his eyes. "Meaning?"

"It occur to you every one of those things was in Cas?" Meg said. "He knows them. He can see past the meat suits."

Sam's eyes widened. "So he'll be able to spot the real fake Dick Roman."

Meg nodded. "Gold star, sugar pants. Too bad he's Fruit Loops. You might've had a chance."

Just then, we heard a noise and turned to see Castiel playing Twister by himself on the floor. I looked pointedly at Dean. "Apologize," I mouthed, but he just narrowed his eyes and looked away. Goddamn Winchesters and their pride, I thought exasperatedly as I watched Castiel struggle to spin the needle and keep his balance.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

"There's no real point in lookin' for a tell," Dean said tiredly as he flipped through the Sucrocorp camera footage for the millionth time. "They all downloaded Dick's brain. They've all got the same tells."

Sam shrugged, for some reason seeming more optimistic than Dean and I. "Alright, then, maybe the question is, what would the real Dick be doing?"

Just then, the temperature dropped in the room and Bobby appeared, looking worse than I'd ever seen him. "Is that the best ya can do?" he said weakly. "Idjits."

"Bobby," Sam said, sounding relieved. "We didn't know if you'd, uh—"

"Well, you shoulda," Bobby interrupted. "You got the flask." He shook his head. "Dumb. You shoulda burned it right off."

Dean frowned. "Bobby—"

"I'm still jonesin' to go back," the older hunter said. "Grab some poor bastard, kamikaze 'em goin' after Dick. It's bad." He glanced over at the laptop, which was playing a video about Dick. The laptop slammed shut suddenly, and the boys and I flinched. "Let's be real," Bobby said, looking at Sam. "I damn near killed ya. And that woman."

"It wasn't your fault, Bobby," Sam insisted. "Not really."

"Right," Bobby nodded. "That's just what ghosts turn into. I really bet the farm I could outsmart that."

There was a small, awkward silence. Then Dean asked, "So what's it feel like?" I glanced at him sharply, wondering how he could be so insensitive.

"Goin' vengeful?" Bobby looked away uncomfortably. "It's an itch you can't scratch out. Look…" he said slowly. "I'm done. Go get Dick. But don't do it 'cause you think it'll scratch the itch; do it 'cause it's the job. And when it's your time…go."

The boys and I shared a look, and Dean walked over to stoke the coals of the fire. "Are you sure about this?" I asked Bobby. "Is this really what you want?"

He gave me a sad smile. "I'd like to stay and keep you three idjits in line," he said warmly. "But it's about time I get outta here."

I reached a hand out nervously, wondering if he was strong enough to feel solid. When my hand touched his shoulder, I breathed out a sigh and I moved forward to hug him. "I didn't get to do that last time," I mumbled as tears filled my eyes.

"Take care of them boys," he told me as he patted my back.

I pulled away, giving him a watery grin. "That's a tall order."

"If anyone can manage it, you can."

Sam came up then and put an arm around my shoulders. I slipped my arm around his waist and leaned against him. "You ready?" he asked Bobby, and the older hunter nodded.

We walked over to Dean, who had taken the leather cover off the flask and was running his hands over the smooth metal. "I feel like we need to give a speech or somethin'," he said, trying to keep the mood light.

"I don't need the memory of you tryin' to string words together messin' up my Heaven," Bobby teased, and Dean gave a strained chuckle. Bobby looked down at the coals and nodded once, as though preparing himself. "Here's to…runnin' into you guys on the other side," he said softly. His eyes swept over each of us, and he smiled. "Only…not too soon, alright?"

At that, Dean placed the flask on the coals, and it started to melt immediately. As Bobby went up in flames, I buried my face in Sam's chest, and both of his arms tightened around me. After a minute, Sam kissed the top of my head and murmured, "He's gone."

I pulled myself out of Sam's embrace, still keeping one arm wrapped around him, and I reached for Dean's hand. The older Winchester was still staring at the place where Bobby had disappeared, but, as my hand squeezed his, he turned to face us. "Alright," he said thickly, and he cleared his throat and forced a grin. "Let's go get us some Dick."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I walked over to Sam and sat down in his lap, pressing a kiss to his neck. He chuckled as his arms wrapped around me and said, "What's up?"

"D'you ever miss monster-of-the-week cases?" I asked, avoiding the question.

"All the time. We just always seemed to get caught up in the big stuff."

"I miss hunting swamp monsters."

He laughed again. "Me, too." We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes until he asked, "So, really. What's up?"

"Well, I figured since there's a ninety percent chance we're all gonna die tonight—"

"Love the optimism."

"—I just wanna get something off my chest."

"Should I be worried?"

I shrugged. "It happened a long time ago. It doesn't really affect us now."

"Okay, I'm getting worried."

"You're ridiculous," I said with a roll of my eyes.

"I'm not arguing. So what is it? What's this deep, dark secret?"

"You were wondering why Meg and I are so close…" I said slowly.

"Yeah?"

"Well, uh…" I tightened my hand on his shirt and let out a deep breath. I was glad that he couldn't see my face. "…She was my supplier."

He didn't understand at first. "'Your supplier?'" he echoed confusedly. I was about to explain when he got it. "Wait, what?!" he exclaimed, and I bit my lip as I waited out the rest of his outburst. "She was giving you demon blood?! Did she get you on it in the first place?!"

"No," I said calmly. "I didn't meet her until after I was drinking—until we went after Crowley together, remember?"

"Did she make you keep drinking?!"

"The opposite, actually," I mumbled, my cheeks heating up with shame. "She tried to get me to stop. I refused."

"I-I don't understand," Sam said, shaking his head. "Why would she—"

"I told you. She's not a bad person."

"No. She played you. Like Ruby played me," he said angrily. "She kept you hooked, and then she left, and you had to go through—"

"Sam," I broke in gently, lifting my head to look at him. "It's okay. Crowley was looking for her. She had to hide. And…" I glanced down, not wanting to see his expression when I spoke again. "…And she was scared of me. She thought I'd lose control and kill her if she tried to make me stop."

"Gari, you weren't that bad," Sam said loyally, but the look on my face made him unsure. "Were you?"

I bit my lip and gave a halfhearted shrug. "Looks that way, doesn't it?"

"But you're not anymore," he persisted. "You're fine."

"Don't…don't be mad at her," I said. "It really wasn't her fault. It was all me. I was already too far gone by the time she started supplying me."

"I can't make any promises," he said darkly, and I gave him a small smile.

"I thought I was the grudge-holder?" I teased.

"You're still rubbing off on me," he replied, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I giggled and kissed him briefly; then I tucked my head under his chin again and closed my eyes. "So we're heading off into the boss battle," I said conversationally.

"Yep."

"Do we have a plan?"

"…Sort of?"

"Lemme guess: Dean came up with it."

"Oh, yeah."

"Chance of success?"

"Eh...seventy/thirty."

"Seventy is the chance we'll die?"

"Uh-huh."

"That's reassuring."

"We've had worse odds," Sam said, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead. "We'll make it through this, too."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

The purr of the Impala's engine was the best thing I'd heard in a very long time. I still thought Dean's plan was vaguely suicidal, but I couldn't be too mad when he was letting me drive his baby into battle. I glanced over at Meg, who was sitting in the passenger seat, and I grinned at her. She smirked back at me and said, "So we're all gonna die, right?"

"Seventy/thirty," I told her, copying Sam's words from earlier.

"Seventy is the chance we'll die?"

"Definitely," I nodded, and she laughed. "I still can't believe Dean's letting us do this."

"I still can't believe you didn't tag along with them," she said.

"There's three of them and only one of you. I figured you could use the help."

"I can't decide if I'm flattered or insulted."

"I told Sam about you dealing demon blood," I said, and the mood in the Impala dropped instantly.

She gave me a guarded look. "What'd he say?"

"He was pissed, of course." I shrugged. "But I told him it was my fault—which it kinda was. I think you're pretty much off the hook."

"Good to know. Not that it really matters if we're all gonna die tonight."

"Isn't it kinda nice to know that you have friends, though?"

The demon was quiet for a moment. "Friends," she mused. "That's not a concept I'm too familiar with."

"Better get used to it. You're not getting rid of us."

"How about you make those promises if we live through this?"

I grinned. "You might be right." I turned my gaze back to the road, and I narrowed my eyes as Sucrocorp loomed in the distance. A tall chain-link fence surrounded the property, broken only by the security boom gates and the guard stations beside them. "You ready?" I asked Meg.

"Born ready," she replied, and I laughed as I floored the gas and busted through the gates. Security guards ran after the Impala as we headed straight for the big, glowing, glass Sucrocorp sign, and I threw my hands over my eyes as we slammed into the sign and the glass shattered all around us. "That was fun," Meg said drily.

"Looks like we got their attention," I said as I noticed about ten Leviathans in suits and the two security guards running toward us with guns at the ready. "Got the Power Clean?"

She handed me a jug and said, "Lemme go first, just until they're outta bullets." She grinned. "They can't hurt me."

I nodded. "Good luck," I said as she got out of the car.

Five minutes later, after both the Impala and Meg had been peppered with bullets, Meg yelled, "You wanna help out here, Spock?!"

I kicked open the door, a machete in one hand and a jug of Power Clean in the other. "What, you can't handle this on your own?" I joked, and she rolled her eyes as she splashed borax into a Leviathan's face.

As she prepared to behead him, two more advanced on her. I threw out my hand, and they went flying back across the yard. She decapitated the first Leviathan then turned toward me with a smirk. "Thanks, Spock."

"Don't mention it," I grunted as I chopped off the head of another Levi.

We slowly but surely made our way through the Leviathans, and I'm proud to say that we couldn't have taken out that many so easily without my powers. Any time one of them got too close, I would send him flying backwards until we were ready to deal with him.

Finally, there were only three left. "I'm outta Power Clean!" Meg called.

I splashed the last of my borax on one of the Leviathans, and he let out a yell as he fell to his knees. "Me, too!" Right as I was about to swing at the fallen Levi, the other two grabbed my arms and lifted me off my feet. "Hey!" I yelped, struggling madly. "Put me down!" Meg ran toward me, machete gripped tightly in her hand, but I was fine without her. I sent out a pulse of energy, and both the Leviathans released me as they were tossed into the bushes.

"Do you even need my help?" Meg asked exasperatedly as we moved toward the two remaining Levis.

"You're moral support!" I told her. "A very important job!"

"Hilarious."

We made quick work of the Leviathans, and I dropped my machete and leaned up against the wall of the building, breathing hard. "That was fun," I panted.

"You're not tired, are you?" she teased, and I rolled my eyes.

"Y'know, some of us here are only half-demon. I still have human weaknesses."

She scoffed. "That's obvious."

I felt something running down my face, and I swiped it off with my hand. "Ew," I said, staring down at the black goo. "That's just sick."

She laughed. "Yeah, you should see the rest of yourself."

I raised my eyebrows. "Like you can talk. You look like you've been swimming in tar."

"Oh, shut up." She rolled her eyes. "Time to go regroup?"

I nodded. "I wonder if they've found Kevin."

"I'm sure the kid's fine; you worry too—" She broke off with a yelp as something sent her flying across the ground.

I spun to see two demons, and I held out my hand, preparing to really test my powers again and try to exorcise them, when two more grabbed me from behind. "What the—?! Lemme go! Meg, get outta here!" I yelped.

"And let you have all the fun?" she said, sneering up at the demons. "No chance."

The first two smirked down at her and one of them menacingly said, "The King of Hell will see you now."

They grabbed her and hoisted her to her feet, and I'd never seen her look more terrified. "Meg!" I struggled to shrug off the demons and had almost succeeded when a white hot pain shot through my upper back. I didn't know what had happened until I glanced down and saw the blade of an angel sword tainted red and protruding from the right side of my chest.

"A message from Crowley," one of the demons holding me hissed in my ear. "You're more trouble than you're worth. See you in Hell." I let out an agonized cry as the blade slid out of me, and I crumpled to the ground as the demons disappeared. I heard Meg screaming my name, and then she abruptly stopped yelling. Crowley took her. Meg… Along with the pain shooting through me, I felt despair and rage for the demon who'd been my friend despite her protests, the demon who'd run from Crowley for so long only to be caught because we'd talked her into being a hero.

My eyesight was already growing fuzzy at the edges, and I could hear my own blood pumping sluggishly in my ears. I could still see Sucrocorp, and I thought desperately of Sam and Dean and Cas and Kevin. If I can get to them, I thought, reaching out a hand and grabbing a patch of grass in front of me, then I'll be okay. I tried to use the grass to pull myself forward, but the action tugged at my wound, and I let out another cry. I sobbed into the ground, tremors shaking my body, and I knew without a doubt that I was going to die, and I was going to die slowly.

Crowley must have ordered his cronies to kill me in a way that would make me suffer. He wants me to hurt before I die… He wants me to die alone… Death's words from so long ago echoed through my head. "I had a tingle I'd be reaping someone very soon." I'd thought at the time that he'd meant Bobby, and that had made sense. But now I wondered if he'd meant me. I don't wanna die, I thought plaintively, and, for once, I wasn't ashamed of how pathetic that thought made me feel. Not like this... Not alone…

Suddenly, I heard heavy footsteps coming toward me, and big boots and blue jeans swam into view through my foggy vision. "Gari!" a deep, terrified voice yelped, and the footsteps got heavier and quicker. "I-I'm at Sucrocorp!" the voice said frantically, and I was confused until it continued and I realized it was talking on the phone. "T-there's been a shooting, or a stabbing, or some kind of attack—people are hurt—just get here!"

Calling 911, I registered faintly. Ambulances. Ambulances mean hospitals. I hate hospitals.

Soon, large, calloused hands were pulling me into muscular arms and holding me against a warm chest that smelled like Irish Spring and old books and alcohol. "Gari, hey, c'mon, stay with me!" I wanted to respond, but it took too much effort, and effort hurt. "Gari, Garideth, don't do this to me!" Sam's arms tightened around me as he begged, "Garideth, please! Gari, baby, c'mon, stay with me! I need you to stay with me!"

I don't know why that gave me the push I needed, but it did.

"'Baby?'" I was able to mock him, if you can believe it. Then I coughed, blood coating the pained grin that spread across my face. My eyes were barely open; the yard lights hurt them, and my vision was getting worse, anyway.

Sam made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and there was a sort of wary relief in his voice as he said, "Felt kinda weird."

"Yeah," I rasped, thinking of a similar conversation that felt like ages ago, "no kiddin'."

I fisted my hand around his shirt as I struggled to open my eyes and fight back the looming darkness. I knew I was losing, but I was going to hold on as long as possible. I forced my eyes open all the way, soaking in as much of him as I could. His hair hung down, tickling my face, and his hazel eyes were wide and scared. His mouth was twitching, alternating between a forced smile and a horrified frown, and the crease between his eyebrows was deeper than I'd ever seen it.

I reached my hand up, intending to smooth the crease with my thumb, but he stopped me midway, taking my hand in his. "Don't try to move, okay?" he said urgently. "Just don't move. I've got you. Just stay with me, okay?"

"'S like our first date," I managed around the blood clogging my throat, and tears leaked out of my eyes.

He let out a strangled laugh. "I sure know how to show a girl a good time."

"Heh. Gonna kiss me now?" More coughs shook my body, and I cried out as agony shot through every nerve.

Sam's lips brushed my forehead as he held me close to him, murmuring, "You're okay; you're gonna be okay." I felt his hand against my back, pressing against the wound, and I whimpered at the pressure. When he pulled away, I heard him breathe, "Oh, God…"

"T-that bad, huh?" I wheezed, forcing a grin.

"N-no, no, it's fine, you're fine," he assured me hurriedly, his voice breaking.

"Happened to—" I took a deep breath, only to exhale in another cough "—no more lies 'n'…no more secrets?"

"It's not a lie," he said stubbornly, his arms tightening around me. "You are gonna be okay. I'm gonna make sure you're okay."

When I finally stopped coughing, I knew I couldn't hold on much longer. There were so many thoughts running through my head: Is Roman dead?! Where are Cas and Dean?! Where's Kevin?! Where did Crowley's goons take Meg?! I can't leave Ella—who's gonna be there for her?! Oh, God, who's gonna tell her?! She doesn't even know about Sam and me! And Sam! What about Sam?! I can't leave him! We're just starting to be happy again! We're fricking engaged! We're gonna be happy! I have to be here for him!

"Sam," I managed, clinging desperately to his shirt, "y-ya gotta remember—"

"No, shhh, don't talk, okay?" he interrupted gently. "Whatever you wanna say, it can wait."

"N-n-no…" Tears continuously poured down my face, and my throat ached with the continued effort of speaking. "Our promise," I breathed. "'Member our…"

I trailed off as I lifted my eyes to his and saw tears brimming on his lashes. A soft smile crossed my face as a surge of love welled up in me. My Sammy, I thought warmly. I wished I could hold him properly, run my hands through his hair, kiss him one last time…but simply gazing up at him and scouring every detail of him, remembering how he looked right in that moment, had to be enough.

I saw the ring on my finger, splattered with black goo and my own blood, but the moonstone still shone brightly, casting rainbows over us. Suddenly, all of my worries disappeared, and I thought it might not be so bad to die like this, in the arms of the man I loved, having just helped save the world. There were worse ways to die, I was sure. The thought was oddly comforting, and it gave me the strength to hold on a minute longer.

Sam pulled back when he felt me move, and he looked down at me with eyes full of fear and desperation and love. "Gari?" he whispered brokenly, as though afraid to speak any louder. "Please stay with me."

I pushed his hand aside as he tried to intercept me again, and I cupped his face in my bloodstained palm. A tear ran down his face and over my hand, leaving a clean streak of pale skin amongst the dark red. I spoke to him in my head, wishing he could hear my thoughts. I wanna stay, Sammy; oh, I want to. I never wanna leave you. But I have to. I can't hold on any longer. But that's okay…because I know you'll hold on for me. I know you'll keep struggling through all of this for both of us. You're so strong, Sammy; you've always been the strong one. You're gonna be just fine without me; I know it. You're gonna save the world again and again, and I'm gonna be watching and waiting for you from wherever I am. I'll see you again; I swear it. I swear it on us. I love you, Sam Winchester. More than anything. And nothing can take that away, not even death.

In the end, I was only able to say one word. I gazed up at Sam as my vision blurred and darkened at the edges until his deep, beautiful eyes were the only things I could see. With my last breath, I smiled and said, "Sam…"

Then my eyes slid closed, and I slipped away.