I wanted to get to this chapter earlier, I really did (because it's been a full year I think…WOO) Thanks for sticking with me and my slow as eff updating…I really appreciate you guys; you have absolutely nooo idea how much I love you.

So, since I have a bit of time before bed, here's a chapter!

I don't own Supernatural, nor do I own its characters.

"What?" You question, not completely understanding the statement Zachariah had just made. He smiles at you with that horribly creepy businessman grin and lifts his arms as if he hasn't the slightest clue what you are talking about.

It frustrates you to your core, but you try to remain as calm as possible. Sam had taught you that the best possible way to get information was to be polite and courteous. (Dean had taught you to hit first and ask questions later. You usually took his route.)

"Why…how did I even fall in love?" Your voice is much meeker than you would like it to be, so you clear your throat and lift your chin. "I didn't think angels were capable of such a feeling."

Zachariah shakes his head at you like you are some dumb child. "Angels love, sweetheart. They love God with all of their might; that's what we were made to do. But instead of loving God, you focused your love on something else entirely."

"Who?" you demand, stepping forward and clenching your fists. "Who did I fall in love with? And why couldn't God just zap me with his powers? Isn't that what he does?"

"You're so much like him, you know. Driven. Headstrong. It would be admirable if it weren't so…evil." He says the word with so much venom in his voice, you flinch. You still don't completely understand, so you decide to take Dean's advice.

You hit Zachariah square in the jaw, your knuckles cracking from the sheer force of the hit. His face moves to the side, but he seems unfazed by it. In fact, he laughs. Right in your face.

There is nothing you hate more than being laughed at.

Your brows furrowing together, you clench and unclench your fists, desperate to get rid of the anger that coursed through your veins. You were so frustrated, you felt like crying. Why couldn't he just be regular and tell you? Why did everything in your life have to be so confusing?

"Just tell me, dammit!" You snap, and Zachariah stands stock-still, as if recognizing the fury in your voice. Slowly, his eyes lock with yours, and he gives you a pleasant smile.

"You are just like him. It's no wonder you two hit it off. Always talking, planning, discussing."

You back away from him, the heavenly air around you shimmering with a thousand changing, happy memories.

"He wanted it all, and you wanted him, so you decided to go along with it."

Oh, god.

"He was just a spoiled brat, you know. Father spoiled him to no end, giving him whatever he wanted. Heck, he even let him have you for the time being. And you weren't even important! No stories to your name, nothing! Just a small, miniscule guardian angle with no real accomplishments."

Please, please no.

"You two were so in love, it was sickening. The way you looked at him…it was like watching a puppy look at his master. He never felt the same way, of course. He isn't capable of feeling that way, (Name)."

Shitshitshitshitshit! Oh god, no!

"And when that day came, you were given a choice. Disobey your Father, or betray your lover. It was all up to you. I remember it clearly. You looked like a frightened teenager, deciding which boy to take to prom. It was pathetic."

You didn't feel yourself sinking to your knees, but you realized it as soon as you could see the shiny polish on Zachariah's shoes.

"So instead of choosing a side like the rest of us, you decided to be a neutral party. But neither he nor Father would have that, no. They gave you one more chance, but still you said no."

"And you were kicked out of heaven-"

"Don't," you squeak out, your voice as quiet as a mouse.

"-because you couldn't make the decision between your own Creator and Lucifer."

You flinch at the name, as if you had been struck by a weapon. Your stomach twists into anxious knots, and your heart beats rapidly in your chest.

"That's not true," you say, glaring up at Zachariah. "You're lying!"

"Angels can't lie, (Name)." He's wearing that smile again, and you feel like punching his teeth out. He stoops down to your level, holding eye contact with you for longer than necessary. "You were so young, and so foolish. It's a marvel you even survived on earth, you insufferable worm."

You stand, prepared to defend your pride, but you feel exhausted. Emotionally and physically drained. As if the recanting of Zachariah's tale had tossed you around like a ghost might.

"So it's true, then," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I was in love…with him." You can't bare to say his name.

Zachariah shoves his hands into his suit pockets, resembling a 1930s mobster. "Lucy," he says, extending the last syllable. "She's home." He flashes a smile in your direction, and you glare back.

Somewhere, on earth, a young man stands in a raggedy shack, watching the sun fade in the distance. He smiles to himself, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

"She remembers," he says to no one, but it's as if everyone hears. Every demon and every angel knows to whom he is referring.

"She remembers me." He smirks at the horizon. "Your move, Winchesters."

Okay so like this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Originally, I had planned for you to fall in love with Michael, but I felt the Lucifer way would make everything more twisted and interesting! So, sorry if I disappointed any readers out there. But I feel like this arc kind of leads into a whole list of possibilities for new chapters and it's just

YAY!

sO that's all for tonight. Keep checking, because I might update again tomorrow. (Or today. Whatever.)