Hey guys! This chapter continues from where we left off, just after you find out the truth from Zachariah.

You can't say anything. You want to, but you can't. There are so many words floating around your mind, and all of them you want to say, but they are stuck at the back of your throat, as if something is holding them back.

You know what it is. The memories. You start remembering, and not slowly either. No, everything comes pouring in at once; all of the emotions, discussions, and fights come at you like a giant tidal wave. It's way too much to handle.

Tears spill from your cheeks as you hold your head, begging silently that this would all stop because it feels like your heart and mind are being ripped in two. You feel as if your head would burst. Remembering everything was painful; why did you even want to know in the first place? You can't remember.

In front of all the rediscovered feelings for the being that was causing the destruction of the world, there was Sam and Dean. What would they say, if they knew? How would they treat you, knowing you had done perhaps one of the most unspeakable things in the universe?

You had fallen in love with Lucifer.

The Devil himself had once been your boyfriend. It was too revolting to think about. And yet, you couldn't stop. Everything in your brain and your heart shouts his name, pleads for him to take you away from here, begs him to forgive you and take you back…

It is all too horrendous.

"I want to go home," you manage to say, choking on your own tears.

"Where is home for you, (Name)?" Zachariah seems unfazed by your breakdown. "Do you even know where you belong anymore?"

You can't answer that question, because you really don't know. Who can you turn to now? You are hated by all angels except maybe Cas. Sam and Dean would most likely kill you the instant they found out. And Lucifer…he was planning to destroy the world, and everything you had grown to care about.

How could you have ever loved him?

"There's only one thing to do, (Name)," Zachariah says, crouching down so his eyes meet yours. "How about we make a deal? You come back to us; take back your Grace and help us convince Sam and Dean to harbor Michael and Lucifer. Then you will be redeemed, and go down in the record books as a hero." He smiles, and through your blurred vision it almost appears warm.

Your tears cease, almost abruptly, but you don't wipe them away. Everything in your mind halts, giving you just enough space to think of one thing and one thing only.

"You think…" you say, catching your breath from those hideous sobs. You look at Zachariah, your eyes flashing with that certain fire that made Dean run away like a child. "You think that after all we've been through, I'd betray those two?"

You grab Zachariah by the necktie, tightening it around his thick neck. You know you can't kill him like this, but at least you can injure his physical body. (The poor sucker.)

"You think that after everything-after they saved me from vampires and gave me a home and the family I never had, that I'd sell them out to some no good brownnoser?" You laugh, and it's a wicked laugh. Like the cackling of a witch.

"You son of a bitch!" Your fist connects with his nose quickly, and you hear the satisfying crunch of a break. "If you think I'd give them up so easily…if you think I'd just let you have them have you, then you're insane! They are mine, and I will not let you have them!"

You release Zachariah with a shove to the ground, and he cradles his nose. You laugh again, softly this time. "You call me the insufferable worm? Look who's talking, douche bag. You let a puny human knock you to the ground."

"This isn't over," he says, gathering himself to his feet. You narrow your eyes at him.

"It is for now. Send me home. To Sam and Dean." Zachariah shakes his head.

"Things won't be the same if you go back. You've been gone too long. There will be too many questions. Too many questions that you'll either have to answer honestly, or not answer at all."

You cross your arms over your stomach, staring at him in distaste. "Take me back to them. Now."

With a snap of his fingers, the two of you are back on earth, standing in front of the shabbiest motel yet. The Impala is parked in front of room 109, and you can hear the shouting coming from inside.

"She was there, Sam!" says Dean, and his voice is hoarse. "She was there, with us, when he was released. I saw her and I talked to her."

"Well she's not here now, Dean, so what are we going to do? We can't just stop everything to look for her. The goddamn world is ending, and you want to organize a search party."

"She could be in trouble."

"She would want us to continue."

You look up at Zachariah, and he wears a sad smile on his face. Most likely a fake one, but it was sad nonetheless. Just how badly had you broken the boys? How long had you been gone?

"Two weeks," says Zachariah. "Two weeks without a single word from you. Those boys are practically insane."

"I need to go to them…" you mutter, but your feet don't move. Would everything be okay if you went back? You felt as if you were betraying them, what with keeping your secret to yourself. What good could it do, you wonder. It would probably just drive a further wedge between the three of you.

Then suddenly you're walking, because not being with them right now is practically torture. Your cheeks are wet, you realize, and you must be crying again. You had been doing that a lot lately.

It seems like forever before you actually reach room 109, and you knock; softly at first, but then you're pounding at the door with all your might, begging through your tears for them to let you in.

"Not now!" shout Sam and Dean, and at this point you're sobbing because they're arguing and it's all your fault. You shouldn't have agreed to go with Zachariah. Everything would be much better if you hadn't agreed…

You're still pounding away at the door, and for a moment you wonder why don't you just say something to get them to open up. But it's like a blanket has covered your brain, and all you can do is cry and kick and bang at the door like there is no tomorrow.

The door opens, revealing an angry, blurry Dean carrying a gun. He breathes your name, and suddenly his arms are around you and his face is buried in your hair.

"I'm sorry," you sob into his wife-beater. "I'm so sorry."

Sam can only stand there, staring in a state of shock at how you literally appeared on their doorstep. He feels an immediate sense of relief, and he feels the tears prickling behind his eyes. The past two weeks had been hell as the brothers tried and tried to find you, but to no avail.

And as Dean shushes you, the brothers don't care why you keep crying and apologizing. They just care that you're home.

Feedback would be greatly appreciated! Especially since I've been working on this since nine and it's now...12:32 in the morning. Lol i'm dumb