Back to being on the run again. I really wish things with the boys would've went down a whole hell of a lot better. Because deep down, I really do love them and I'm grateful for everything they've done for me. They just don't understand the kind of power I have or what I can do with it. The amount of monsters I could take out at one time. I could probably handle every monster problem across the country in an afternoon out of boredom. So what if I bleed a few demons dry in the process? What's so bad about that? It's another monster I've wiped out.

I get that they're worried I'll lose control, but I'm pretty sure I have a good lid on it. It's not like I'm going out every morning, leveling a town, and I'm out by dusk. I know they've let monsters go before. And I'm not a monster. I'm their sister. They should know better. Then again, I'm sure they think I should know better than to be chugging demon blood, too. But still...They don't understand.

Nevertheless, I didn't have to be alone through this. I had Xander with me, too. First things first, we needed a ride. I love my Mustang, but it's a bit too conspicuous. And it pained me to leave her behind. Xander and I started walking toward a junkyard just on the outskirts of Lawrence and did some car shopping. Anything that didn't look completely destroyed with a decent engine in it would do.

Unfortunately, the only thing that fit the criteria was a powder blue '76 Pinto. I deserve so much better than a freakin' Pinto. Right now, beggars can't be choosers, though. Looks like the piece of crap Pinto will have to do. I mean, it looks like hell, but hopefully, it'll run. It looked relatively salvageable. That's just my luck, isn't it? It is pretty inconspicuous.

A little rub of some wires...A couple jumps to the engine...Engine stalls...Come on. Start for me. Lena needs to get the hell out of dodge and she can't do that without you. I can't believe I'm putting the fate of my future in a damn Pinto. I had a beautiful, classic Mustang, pure American muscle...And I have to swap my baby out for a Pinto. oh, how the mighty have fallen. I've never been so physically disgusted. Come on, you son of a bitch. Start!

The little engine in this Pinto definitely could. It let out a loud roar that one would never expect from a Pinto. Not bad. Color me impressed. Someone must have, for lack of a better word, restored this at one time and swapped the engine out for something bigger, better, and meatier. Probably someone's weekend race car. Little on the outside, angry on the inside, and often underestimated. This little Pinto and me had a lot in common.

"Alright, Xander," I drove up to the gate, "Get in."

"Really?" he looked the car over, "That's our ride? I'd expect better from a Winchester."

"I wish I could do better," I grumbled, "She might not look like much, but she's got it where it counts. We just need something to get us from point A to point B."

"Where's point B?" Xander asked, putting his seatbelt on.

"I don't know," I thought it over, "I could use some more demons."

"What?" he whined, "I'm not enough?"

"For now, you are," I assured him, "But unless you're willing to give up every ounce of your bodily fluids, getting more demons would probably be in our best interest."

"Fine," Xander let it go, "How do you plan on getting them? Mass summoning?"

"No," I shook my head, "If you're hungry, you go to the grocery store, right?"

"Right."

"In that case," I smiled, "Why not get a few demons directly from the source?"

Xander started putting the pieces together in his head, "Are you saying we actually go to Hell?"

"Rumor has it," I remembered, "There are gateways to Hell on Earth. Do you happen to know where one is?"

"Those rumors are true," he confirmed, "The nearest one to here is in Wyoming."

"Wyoming?" I whined, "That's nine hours north!"

"So, it's a day's drive," Xander put his hand on my thigh, trying to offer me a little bit of comfort, "We can do it. I'm sure if we drive through the night, we'll be there by morning. If it's too much for you, we can stop in Denver. There's a really good pizza place there. A reaper told me about it once. He said that it's got the second-best pizza he's ever had."

"Where's the fir..." I stopped myself, knowing the answer to my own question, "Chicago. Probably Chicago."

"He was supposed to reap the owner of a place in Chicago," he told me, "But he kept him alive because he liked the deep dish there."

"Seriously?" I giggled, "Wouldn't the top dog of all reapers get pissed about something like that?"

"When he is the top dog of all reapers," Xander clarified, "I don't think so."

I had heard about Death before. Dean always told me he was a sucker for anything deep fried and Chicago's deep dish kept him from wiping the city off the map once. Neat. A reaper after my own heart. Probably literally a time or two. Speaking of food, "Hey, Xander..."

"What?"

"I need you to do a girl a solid," I bit my lip, pulling into a Gas 'N Sip parking lot, "And it's a big solid."

"Lena," he assured, "I'd do anything for you. What do you need?"

"First of all," I ordered, trying to steady my shaking hands, "Go inside and score me a bottle of booze. I don't care what. When we're somewhere more permanent, I have all intentions of getting hammered, so the higher the proof, the better. I'll tell you the rest when you come back."

"Anything else?" Xander got out of the car.

"And a pack of cigarettes," I was empty and between the booze and the nicotine, it'll make the other thing last a bit longer, "Marlboro Lights. Please."

"I'll be right back," he left me to white knuckle through withdrawal on my own. I could do this. I could do this. I could do this. I could do this. I'll be fine.

My phone started buzzing in the cup holder. A text from Crowley asking me where I was. I'm sure it's not going to be the first one like that, but I ignored it. Some of his blood would've been a life saver right now, but I had to wait for Xander to get back. Then, I could go back to kicking ass like nobody's business again. Demon blood and I got along famously. The power that surged through my body after a good, long hit of it...Suddenly, a very good (or very bad, depending on how a person looks at it) idea popped into my head.

When I'm jacked on demon blood, my power was ridiculous. I could kill someone without even touching them. I've blown up demons from a distance. And with Crowley up here under the very watchful eye of my brothers and Lucifer dead as a doornail, what's stopping me from doing something a little naughtier than juicing with demon blood? Why stop there? Lucifer always said he wanted to rule high while I ruled low.

"That's my girl," a voice echoed in my head, "Daddy's proud of you, Lena. Not too proud of your vehicle choice, but everything else..."

"What the hell?" I jumped, looking into the passenger seat of the Pinto at a grinning angel, giving me a passive little wave, "No. I killed you."

"I can overlook that for now," Lucifer brushed me off, "Besides, I'm in your head. You're the only one that can see me, princess. It's just the two of us. Looks like that withdrawal fever's a little higher than it usually is. Making you see things."

"You're not real," I tried shaking him out, "You're not here."

His hand stretched out and he poked my nose, "Boop! I'm very much here and I'm very real. You know what would top off your cocktail of demon blood perfectly? A little bit of angel grace. Imagine what that high would be like."

I remembered what it felt like to have angel grace in my body. It burned everywhere. Not quite the hug I felt like demon blood, but the pure energy...Kicking ass and taking names wasn't exactly difficult then. Clearly, it was enough to take down Lucifer. At least I thought it was. He's still not here. This is the withdrawal screwing with my head or some twisted karma. I did not have Lucifer riding shotgun in my piece of crap Pinto.

"No," I kept it together with bubble gum and paper clips as best as I could.

"Oh, yeah," he egged me on, "Angel grace. Demon blood. The best of Heaven and Hell. Now, where could you get an angel on short notice? I mean, the best would probably be an archangel, but it's not like you know any of them, right, Lena?"

I did. And he knew damn well I did. But I couldn't do that to him, "Can't say that I do."

"I can tell you where he is," Lucifer insisted, "No strings. Except for a little, itty bitty one."

I could find my archangel on my own, but I wasn't tapping his grace. Although, Lucifer had me curious, "What's the string?"

"That's my girl," he praised, "Don't get me wrong. Crowley's great. He's a hell of a salesman, but he's nowhere near good enough for upper management. I think you got a shot of taking over the family business, kiddo. Do that for me and I can tell you where my brother is."

Was he saying what I think he's saying? Me, ruling Hell? Lucifer had a point. Right now, I had a lot of untapped power going on. And if I added some angel grace on top of that, I'd go off like a Roman candle. But I'm not draining my archangel. Not Gabriel, "No."

"No, what?" Xander sat back down in the passenger seat with a bag in one hand and taquitos in the other, "I got you whiskey. I hope that's ok."

"That's fantastic," I came to again, "Thank you, Xander."

"Now, what was the other thing you wanted?" he asked.

"Well," I winced.

"Go on, Lena," Lucifer nudged me along from the backseat, "Ask him what you want. You know what you want."

"I…" my shaking was only getting worse. I had no other choice, "I need you to open your wrist up."

"My wrist?" Xander gave me a look, "What do you mean?"

"I've been drinking a lot of demon blood lately," I filled him in, "And I need some more."

"Sure," he looked around for my bag, "Where's your knife? I know you have one."

"It's back here," Lucifer whispered, "See? It's really a pretty knife. Didn't Dean give you this knife?"

"Here," I reached back, resisting the urge to wrap my hand around Lucifer's nonexistent neck. Once I get some blood in me, he'll be out of my head, right? I gave my knife to Xander, "Do you know what to do?"

"Yeah," Xander nodded, running the blade over his arm. Once he broke the skin, I took his arm and started going to town. While I was getting the warm hug demon blood gave me, Xander even started shaking, "Alright. Slow down there, tiger. How long have you gone without it?"

"It's been a while," I took a breath, "Are you ok?"

"Aww…" Lucifer gushed, "You like him, don't you?"

"Shut up!" I snapped.

"What the hell did I do?" Xander jumped.

"No," I came down, "I'm sorry. Don't worry about it. Give."

I took his arm back whether he wanted me to or not and got back to sucking down more blood. All while Lucifer was cheering me on from the sidelines. I tried tuning him out, humming something to myself. Anything that would drown out Lucifer's incessance. But I felt so much better. It wasn't the same potency as Crowley's, but it'll do for the time being.

"There," Xander swayed a bit in his seat, "Are you done?"

"Yeah," I wiped my mouth, "I'm so much better."

"Alright then," he rubbed his eyes, "Where to now?"

"We're taking a little trip," I smiled, "We're going to Wyoming."

"Awesome," Xander sighed out, "What for?"

"With Crowley distracted and looking for me," I decided, "I think it's time for a regime change. Would you be my right-hand man, Xander?"

"For…?"

"I don't know if you know this," I pulled out of the Gas 'N Sip, "But I look pretty damn cute in a crown."

That caught his attention, "Are you suggesting…We take over Hell?"

"I take over Hell," I clarified, "You'd be more or less a second in command."

"Alright," Xander nodded, "And we won't have Crowley to deal with?"

"He wouldn't dare hurt me," I assured, "Sam and Dean wouldn't allow that. Not to mention, Crowley absolutely, without a doubt, adores me. It's to the point where his name in my phone was Daddy. And he's the one that made it that way."

"Yikes…" Lucifer chimed from the backseat.

"You're telling me…" I agreed.

"What do you mean?" Xander gave me a look. Dammit. I keep forgetting he can't see Lucifer haunting me.

"Nothing," I brushed him off, "So? You, me, and Hell? Sound like a plan."

"Sounds like a plan."

Awesome! I never would've thought ruling Hell would've been in my future, but it looks like it. Neat!

A/N: Welp. That happened. Lena's going to run Hell. Lucifer's being the actual little devil on her shoulder. Sam and Dean are pissed off at her. And she's back on the blood again! Yay! I liked this chapter. I like seeing Lena's mental state slip a little bit. As sadistic as that sounds. We're blurring the lines here, friends. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to try and keep myself awake for a little while longer, maybe get some other things done, probably hang around here for a bit longer. See you next chapter! xx