Hey people! Thanks again for the amazing support you've given me. I do appreciate it so much. Every review and every message I get is truly valued!

So, this chapter is just a random conversation that popped into my head and I'm pretty sure it does nothing for the plot, but hey - what plot? My health isn't great at the moment and I feel so tired all the time, so I really apologize for all the bad writing and stuff. I just want to keep writing, through this difficult time in my life, and try not to fall back to depression.

I hope that you all are feeling good and have a great summer. I'd love to hear what you thought about this chapter, so please leave me a review.

Jackie sat on a beach and buried her toes in the warm sand as the tropical wind made her hair fly around her face. The sun was setting and the sky was all peach and orange and gold, but Jackie wasn't drinking a 'sex on the beach, for that was only meant for occasions when one was having fun. Instead, she was sipping tequila straight from the bottle, and everything in her was just as raw and burning as the drink on her lips.

She was thinking about Sam.

And she was thinking about Raphael.

It wasn't just the phone calls. It was all the unfinished business they had. Something Jackie hadn't thought about for a long time, but now it was like all the memories of their time together kept flooding her mind, and she was drowning.

She had left Raphael one quite ordinary Tuesday morning in late August 1895, after more than 15 years together. That morning she had woken up in her bed, had realized with the brutally bright morning light that she had finally had her glass full, that if she got any more of this life it would destroy her. She had crossed the floor where two bodies had lain drained of blood, their throats torn so deep you could see the spine, had stepped right over them as she had walked to the door with nothing on her but her clothes, and had stepped out into the blessed light of the sun that would burn away the filth of her soul.

Into the light, she knew Raphael would not follow her.

She hadn't seen Raphael after that morning, and it was more than a century ago.

Perhaps promising him the Black Orlov had been Jackie's way to tell him she was sorry. For she was. It hadn't all been bad, even if it had ended badly as all love does.

Now, sitting on the deserted tropical beach, she remembered the nights he sat by her side on a beach much like this one, the touch of his cold fingers trailing down her spine, the way he laughed in the darkness, the sound of his laughter the most shameless, the most decadent sound she had ever heard in her life, and yet it called to her like flowers call to the bees, like a flame to a moth.

You were an idiot to ever let him know you have the Black Orlov. Now he'll never leave you in peace.

And what if Sam finds out about him?

That thought filled Jackie with dread, made her stomach clench on a tight knot that made it hard to breathe. She tried to melt it away with tequila, but it wasn't really working. The drunker she got, the more she was thinking about Sam. And about Raphael. And about death.

To avoid answering Rafes calls, Jackie had left her phone in her hotel room when she'd popped in there to lose the towel and change into the white summer dress she was now wearing. But no matter the absence of her phone, she couldn't escape her thoughts.

She needed a plan. The black Orlov was still sitting in her safe and Raphael was set on having it. He had been after it for centuries, and now that he knew Jackie had it-

Well, shit would hit the fan sooner or later.

Jackie needed a solid plan - to get rid of the cursed diamond and of Raphael, for good.

And on top of that, she needed a plan on how to deal with Dean-

Christ, I almost killed him. No wonder Sam was upset. He has all the reason in the world to leave me because of this.

And this will end like all love does, like Raphael once told me, it will all end in fire.

Jackie took another swig of tequila and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She hated crying, but couldn't help it. What had happened with Dean had shaken her, but not as much as the look in Sam's eyes when he walked in the door and the groceries fell from his hands, cucumbers, and tomatoes, and bread and cartons of milk rolled to the carpet and he stared at her as if she was something terrifying. As if he didn't even know who she was.

More tequila.

Jackie knew exactly what Joe would say if she saw her sorry state. She would tell Jackie to get her shit together, to stop drinking and stop crying and go back. Joe would grab her by the arm and force her back to Sam's place and make her have a civilized conversation with the boys.

And all would be well again, and everyone would be friends and they would all live happily ever after.

But Joe wasn't here.

And Jackie couldn't face Sam, no she couldn't do it, not like this, not yet, not as long as just thinking about the way he had looked at her made her all raw and burning and her heart an open wound.

Beach and tequila and then maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow she could-

"Jacquelin." a voice startled her. That voice, that way of calling her by her full name-

Raphael..?

But no, it was not him. Jackie's heart fell to her feet, as she recognized the man in a suit and a trench coat, standing at the waterline, the waves almost reaching his heels.

"Cass?" Jackie got up to her shaky legs. "What the actual fuck are you doing here?"

"You were praying."

Jackie glanced at her bottle of tequila, feeling a bit guilty - damn angels, they always had that effect on people.

"I'm pretty sure I wasn't praying."

"Earlier. I heard you."

"Oh. Yeah, maybe." She sat back down and drank some more tequila as Castiel walked closer to her. She didn't remember praying, but angels had the habit of hearing your inner thoughts even when you weren't aware of them yourself. So maybe she had been praying - praying that Sam wouldn't leave her because of this crap, praying that Dean would learn how to be fine with her, praying that she would never hear from Raphael again-

"Cass?" she asked, turning her eyes up. The angel was now standing by her side, the tropical wind making his trench coat fly around his legs. He should've looked ridiculous in that setting, wearing a suit and a coat on a beach by sunset, but managed to look all hot and magnificent instead.

"Yes?"

"You wouldn't happen to want a cursed diamond, would you?"

"No."

"You sure? I have one, and I'd love to give it to some cute guy."

He tilted his head, looking slightly confused. "I am hardly… a cute guy."

"Oh, but you are." Jackie sighed. "And useless."

"You prayed. I came. Is there something you want to talk to me about?"

Jackie drank some more. The sun was now almost behind the horizon, only the last rays painting the sky with a palette of gold and rose, and it was all so breathtakingly beautiful it threatened to break her heart.

"I am in love with a human," she said after a small silence.

"Oh," Castiel said and turned to look at her. "That is breaking the rules."

"Me being alive is breaking the rules," she said. "You want to talk about that?"

"I do not."

"Then don't talk to me about rules," Jackie said rather sharply.

"But-"

"No buts. Am I not entitled to love? To be loved? To try and live my life like a human?"

"You are not a human," Castiel said plainly, just stating the fact. "You are an abomination."

"Oh, please! Is that the way you talk to women?" Jackie exclaimed. "No wonder you never get laid."

Castiel didn't reply, just turned his sky blue eyes back to the horizon, to the night that was slowly creeping on them. The wind was picking up, and Jackie could almost make out the outline of Castiel's wide wings, could almost hear the soft whispering of the feathers in the wind.

His beauty took her breath away.

"Can I ask you a question?" she said after a small silence.

"What do you wish to know?"

"Why did you let me live? When you were sent to kill mom, and you found out about Joe and me… Why didn't you kill us like you had been ordered to?"

Castiel was silent for a long while after that, so that Jackie almost thought he wouldn't answer at all.

"I owed your mother."

"You… what?"

"She was a sister. I cared deeply for her. And I did owe her, for something that is not your business, something that happened long ago."

Jackie processed that information while taking another gulp of her beverage.

Angels weren't really supposed to have feelings, but Jackie knew it wasn't so simple. Her mom had been an angel, and she had fallen in love. She had wanted to live and to love, and for that, she had risked everything.

Cass said that he had cared deeply for her mother. And for that, he had chosen not to obey a direct order.

Maybe angels weren't as emotionless as she had thought.

"Did you get into trouble because of that?" she asked.

"I did not," Cass replied.

"Because no one found out?"

His silence told her she had guessed right.

Well, if that wasn't worrying, she didn't know what was. If some other douchebag angel ever found out that Jackie and Joe were still alive because of Cass's slip up, there would be no protecting them. Heaven would make sure to smite them down this time, with a flaming sword or a plague or something just as appealing.

That thought brought a bitter taste to her lips. She regretted asking anything.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" she said. "Like an angel book club or something?"

"What is a book club?"

"It's this… well, why do I bother? You don't read, do you? I bet the only book you've ever read is the Bible. Correct?"

"I have not read it as such-"

"Right. It was inserted into your consciousness by God's voice or something like that."

"Not exactly."

"Whatever. It's not like I care."

Another silence. Jackie felt the wind on her bare shoulders, but the air was still hot. The sky was now turning dark, and it wouldn't take long for the first stars to appear. She really wanted to see the Crux, which would be fully visible in an hour or two. Jackie drew her knees close to her chest and leaned her chin on them while noticing that Castiel sat down on the sand next to her.

"Why are you always... so angry, when you see me?" he asked out of the blue.

"You mean bitchy?"

"I meant what I said."

"What is this? An angel talking to me about emotions?"

"Just because I don't have them, does not mean that I wouldn't understand them. So answer my question - why do you hate me so, Jacquelin?"

"Well I don't know - maybe it's just the effect you have on people?"

He swallowed, and Jackie watched the sharp movement of his Adam's apple - something so human, in his otherwise ethereal appearance.

"I should have killed you, but I let you live," he said, with a voice so low Jackie almost felt it on her skin. "I spared you, and only asked for some small payment or favor from you from time to time. And not once have you shown respect or gratitude."

"Oh please!" Jackie rolled her eyes. "Some small payment, my ass-"

"This is what I mean. Anger. Hate. Why are you so angry all the time, Jacquelin? You have lived a long life, and now you say you have found a human whom you love. Is that not enough for you? Is that not enough to show some gratitude for?"

"I will never thank you for what you did."

"Why?"

"Because maybe it was not a gift? Maybe it was a curse? Maybe it would've been better if I had died that day, if you had carved my chest open with your blade?"

His ice-blue eyes met hers.

"Better for who?"

"For everyone?"

"Perhaps it would have been so," Castiel said and turned his gaze away. He spoke silently, and the wind almost stole his words. "But what is done is done, and I do not regret it. I am not here to harm you, Jacquelin. I am here because I heard you praying and I felt your sorrow. And you still haven't told me why you were praying."

"But I did tell you. I told you that I am in love with a human. And that it terrifies me."

"As it should."

"Is that what you told Joe too? When she was in love with Antoine? That she should be terrified?"

"Ah," said Castiel, and looked down. He leaned his elbows to his knees. "What I told her then, would hardly apply to you."

"And why is that?" Jackie asked. "Because she is worthy and I am not?"

"No. Because she never doubted if she deserved to be loved."

Jackie drank some more, but it didn't help. What he had said was true. She was angry, had been for as long as she could remember, and she had never believed herself worthy of a good man's love.

Something, she thought, would never change.

"Sometimes I long for death," she confessed. "Sometimes I think that this eternal life is a curse, not a gift. And I think that perhaps life is a day in the burning desert, but death is an eternity in a cool, clear river."

She buried her toes deeper into the sand, the tiny particles surrounding her feet. She thought about a random fact she had learned somewhere - that a single grain of sand held more atoms than there were grains of sand on a whole beach. If there was a God who had created all this, why had he made atoms so small? And why had he made her so imperfect, so flawed, so filled with endless doubt - and then given her eternal life?

Jackie had a hard time believing in God, even when sitting on a beach with an angel.

It was dark now, the night was soft velvet around them, the sound of the ocean a constant murmur in the darkness.

"Do I have a soul?" Jackie asked after a long while of listening to the sounds of the night - the waves, the wind in the palm trees, in the feathers of Castiel's wings.

"I do not know," he replied.

"What will happen to me when I die?"

"I don't know that either."

"I can't go to heaven, can I?" she said. "I have sinned."

"I know. But so have many."

"But you said it yourself. I am an abomination. I can never go to Heaven. And Hell-"

Jackie stopped mid-sentence.

Sometimes she wanted to die. Sometimes she was so tired of living, that she would have welcomed any death. But she didn't want to go to Hell, and she didn't want to turn into a demon - she hated demons. But what if that was all that was left for her when she finally died? Where else could she go? Besides, with all the blood in her hands, she would no doubt make an excellent demon.

But were Heaven and Hell really the only options?

Where was her father's spirit? Or her mother's?

Maybe, when she died, she could turn into the foam of the waves, a bubble in the whitecaps, like she had once read that mermaids did.

"I do think you have a soul," Castiel said silently, his voice as dark and soft as the night that surrounded them. "And I do think there is hope for you, Jacquelin. I have always thought so, since the first time I ever saw you. You look so much like your mother, you have her spirit, her courage-"

"I look nothing like my Mom." Jackie shook her head. "You're wrong. It's Joe who takes after her."

"In looks perhaps, but I knew your mother before she became a human. Your spirit has the shape of her soul."

And what do you say to something like that?

So Jackie said nothing, just sat there and listened to the sound of Castiel's voice, the sound of the waves, and let the night fall upon them.

Aaah, so Cass is back! Did you like how I wrote him? Please, all feedback is appreciated.