After finally crying herself dry, Lizzy decided it was time to get out of the apartment. With everything that just happened she needed time away to clear her mind and straighten out her own emotions. The overwhelming urge to flee and run away from it all consumed her and, knowing she can't get far in the current weather, she settles for the solitary retreat of her… Lou's… snowed-in car.
Once she's gone, Dean and Sam are left alone in the now disheveled apartment. Both standing in silence in the hallway for a moment, they turn to each other, unsure of what to say. It takes a beat for Dean to find the courage and lose enough of his pride to speak.
"So, uh, I'm not saying I'm cool with it now or anything, but what you did for Lizzy, just, thanks Sammy," Dean quietly and sheepishly struggles out, hands in his pockets. Sam looks back at his brother with a sad look.
"Just trying to make good use of the fucked up shit I'm stuck with," he admits just as quietly. The room grows still once more, the silence deafening with the tension between them. Dean, needing to occupy himself through the awkward moment, goes into the kitchen to grab a trash bag. He brings it out into the hallway and begins bagging up the wooden pieces of door and the empty bottles, broken glass, and scattered pictures in the closet. Sam helps him and they work silently until Dean can't keep in his growing concerns to himself any longer.
"Man, I thought you were done with all that," Dean says to Sam in an annoyed voice while pausing his work.
"I was," Sam answers, hands filled with wood pieces. He had stopped exorcizing demons with his mind for a little while now. "Until just now, Samhain had been the only other time I've used it in a long time."
"So you only did that because it was Lizzy who was possessed?"
"Yes."
"You haven't been doing it here and there when I'm not around?"
"No! Dean, I told you I was done," Sam grows loud with frustration. "I heard Uriel's threat loud and fucking clear, alright?"
"Good," Dean relaxes a little, actually somewhat believing what Sam tells him. He holds open the trash bag and Sam drops what he'd picked up into it. "Because Cas saw the whole thing and you know what he thinks about your whole psychic crap. God too, for that matter…"
"Yeah, I don't think God hates it quite as much as the angels claim he does," Sam says matter-of-factly as he continues to gather the scattered remnants of the demon's visit.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean questions, bag dropped to his side and his free hand on his hip as he looks at Sam with utter confusion.
"I'm just saying that I get the feeling he isn't so against it, that's all," Sam cryptically explains without meeting Dean's eyes.
"This have something to do with Castiel telling me to about your trip here?" Dean asks and Sam finally pauses his cleaning to look at Dean with surprise.
"Why would he want you to do that?" Sam cautiously questions, having the distinct feeling that he's already aware of why. That flask sure did show up at an interesting time.
"I don't know, Sam," Dean says in a suspicious and bordering angry tone. "But he said to ask about what happened on your trip here and it having to do with your faith in God."
That confirms for Sam everything he already thought. He did get some assistance while struggling to find his flask, his only weapon, in the snow. Holy shit, God really is there. And he… it… is looking right at him. Creepy.
"Maybe he meant that I have faith after actually arriving here," Sam pretends to guess once the initial shock of reality settles a little. "Seemed at several points like I wasn't gonna make it, honestly. Not really sure how I managed in the end. Maybe I had God on my side on this one."
"No. I don't think that's it," Dean responds, not accepting the flimsy explanation Sam gave him. He knows there's more to it and he asks again more sternly. "What happened?"
"Fine. I was in a bind at one point. I slipped while walking down the street and I dropped the knife in the snow," Sam says, bending the truth just enough that Dean might believe him without having to share the truth behind what fuels his psychic power. "It was buried and I couldn't find it and considering it was one of the only weapons I had, I panicked. After digging through the snow for a while and coming up empty handed, I stopped and asked for help…"
"You prayed for help?" Dean questions, putting the story together.
"Yes. And when I opened my eyes, the knife was just kinda sticking out of the snow. I could suddenly see it again." Sam just looks at Dean and waits, knowing he'll get some kind of wise ass remark about how it was just a coincidence and that angels are dicks so God probably is one too.
"Huh," Dean simply says as he thinks the whole thing over.
"That's all you got?" Sam half smirks. "No God is a pissed off high school drama queen or anything?"
"I just don't know what to think anymore, Sammy," Dean admits while washing a hand down his face. "This whole thing has been so fucked up."
"When have our lives not been fucked up?" Sam says with a small smile, trying to find some way of bringing Dean back down from his current state.
"Good point," Dean huffs. "But why does everything have to keep getting worse. We always hit what I think is rock bottom, it can't possibly get harder or shittier, than the floor opens up and there's a whole new level of awful waiting for us."
"Dude, life sucks," Sam adds. "How have you not accepted that yet?"
"Oh, I've accepted it. Hell, I've embraced it up until now," Dean lets Sam know. "But this was over the fucking top, man. I can handle demons trying to kill me, I'm fine with that, but demons looking to generally screw with my life, ruin my relationship with Lizzy? That's too much!"
"Yeah, that is pretty messed up," Sam agrees. "But you and Lizzy are fine. You'll get past this."
"I don't know," Dean admits as Sam brings up his biggest worry. "She was told a lot of things she didn't know about me yet." He looks over at his brother with misery at the thought. "I wouldn't want to be with me, I can tell you that."
"She's very understanding," Sam says. "And she won't leave you, or us in general. After all, she can't, right?"
Dean simply wrinkles his brow, puzzled by what Sam says to him.
"Dude, the bathroom door was open," Sam explains. "I heard everything."
"Being soul mates doesn't mean she wants to be around me," Dean challenges. "Sometimes I don't want to be around you. You make me nuts."
"We're brothers," Sam reminds Dean. "We're supposed to get sick of one another. Dean, there's no way…"
"You didn't hear everything Laraje said," Dean cuts Sam off. "Some of it was tough, really tough."
"And so is Lizzy," Sam tells him. "She can handle it."
"I hope so, Sammy," Dean says while picking up more of the debris in the hallway. "I really hope so."
Bundled up in her heavy winter coat and snow boots, she trudges through the two feet of snow to the parking lot behind her apartment. Brushing off the door handle of Lou's Mustang, she pushes the key into the door to unlock it. She was desperate to get away from everything. It felt like she was being crushed by an invisible weight and she needed to be alone to do what she always did when things became too awful or too overwhelming; she needed to talk to best friend.
Once inside the cab, windows caked with snow so that the world was completely shut out, she turns the key in the ignition to get the car going. First she cranks the heat to warm up the small cabin. Then she plugs her IPod into the radio adapter, quickly popping on exactly what she needed to hear; the Crosby, Stills and Nash box set her father gave her on her seventeenth birthday. She loved it so much. Paul and Lizzy always found themselves bonding over their love of music and CSN was one band they agreed completely on. He even took her to see them when she was twelve and it is to this day one of her fondest memories. Listening to them made her feel like her father was still with her and that comforted her in times when she needed it, like right now.
As 'Haven't We Lost Enough' begins playing, she squeezes herself between the front seats and settles into the limited space in back. Lying across the seat, her knees bent to accommodate her height and her head resting on the ashtray ledge behind the driver's side, she begins talking to the roof.
"God damn it, Louie," she says while staring up at the tan interior, hands folded atop her stomach. "Everything is so fucked up. Ever since you left it's felt like one fucking fiasco after another. I'm lost, dude. So lost and without you around my life feels impossible. Jesus, I mean Dean went to hell, Sam went off the deep end, I'm pretty sure Bobby's a full blown alcoholic now, if he wasn't already before, and it's on me to keep everyone in line. But how do I do that? I know I put myself in this position, I made myself their little go-to chick, but shit, I can't do all of this. It's too much and I'm a total disaster myself."
Lizzy pulls out the Jameson bottle that had been tucked into her coat and twists off the cap. She raises the bottle to the roof while looking heaven-ward. "I fucking miss you," she tells Lou before chugging down several large gulps, looking for the numbing relief to come as quickly as possible. She wedges the liquor between her jean covered thighs and sighs loudly.
"So Sam's evil or something… or evil with a good heart, if that's at all possible. You'd die if you just saw what he did. He yanked that fucking demon right out of me with his stupid psychic crap. Louie, I never thought I'd say this in a million years, but he scares me. Scares me shitless." She tips the bottle up and drinks down another hefty amount before returning it to its tucked away place. "That sweet guy, the guy that I thought could never hurt a fly, the guy that was so timid when we first met him and totally intimidated by all ninety pounds of you is using demonic powers like it's nothing. When you died and Dean left, I did what I could, I tried so hard to keep him on the straight and narrow… what is he thinking? I wish you were here so bad. If he's gonna listen to anyone, it would be you right now. He always listened to you." She begins peeling at the label of her favorite whiskey while pausing for a moment to gather herself.
"And Dean, ha…" she shakes her head slowly and tips back another shot. "What the fuck do I do about us now? This demon tells us both that every woman in his life was planted there to mold him into the person he is right now. What the fuck does that even mean? And am I one of those? Is that the whole meaning of my life… to be Dean's girl and that's it? That terrifies me, Lou."
She feels the pools building behind her eyes at the thought. "It's so unfair. I love him so fucking much, you know I do. I can't stay away. I always have the insanely strong compulsion to help him, to make him better, to love him, and God, to fuck him. It's like a sickness. This is what drug addicts go through I think. Even with everything I've been told I can't leave him, I just can't, but Louie what the fuck do I do now?" she asks as she drinks more whiskey, reveling in the burn as the buzz begins to settle into her body. "I just need you here so badly. You always talked me through everything and made it all easier. I was always a better person when you were around." She closes her lids as the tears drop from the outer corners of her eyes. "Please, tell me you can hear me. Just this once. Let me know you're here with me when I need you the most. Please, Louie."
"She can't hear you."
"Fuck!" Lizzy shouts and jumps at the sudden intrusion. She jerks her head to the front passenger seat to see the back of someone's head. She recognizes the dark hair and tan trench coat immediately. "Fuck you, Castiel!"
"I assume that's an insult for surprising you," he simply puts without turning around to look at her.
"Sorry," she immediately apologizes. "You just scared the shit outta me."
"I understand," he explains, getting the picture by this point. The humans he is forced to deal with at this point seem to always be startled by his entrance. "I feel I should tell you that Louise cannot hear you. She's not around."
"That's probably a good thing," Lizzy comments while wiping the tears off her face, the heavy black eyeliner Laraje put on her smudging as she does, and sitting up. "I'd depress even the dead at this point." She takes another swig and taps the angel on his shoulder while holding the bottle out to him. After turning to see her offer, he just shakes her off and returns his focus straight ahead.
"So what brings you to my personal pity party?" Lizzy wonders.
"I wanted to explain some things before I left you."
"Can't I just get a recap from Dean?" she asks, wanting to be left alone. She knew the two of them had been talking in the hallway while she was a collapsed heap in the bathroom.
"I didn't tell Dean everything that I am about to share with you. I feel you deserve that much."
"First things first, though," Lizzy stops him. "Ah, what happened to the… hunters?"
"I took care of them," Castiel explains.
"What does that mean?" she questions with concern.
"They have been found in their home by the authorities," he explains. "An anonymous tip was called in. Seems they were attacked by an intruder."
"Thanks," Lizzy says, her words hollow as she bites back the sob dying to come out. "This makes me a terrible person, doesn't it? I mean, I'm a murderer now, right?"
"You are not a murderer," Castiel corrects.
"I killed them," Lizzy responds. "It was my body, my hands…"
"And it was Laraje's control," he interjects. "You did nothing wrong. You're innocence is intact. Try and find forgiveness for yourself in that."
Lizzy nods very slightly and takes a small amount of reprieve in what she thinks is Castiel's version of comforting words. It was sweet of him to try.
"Um," Lizzy begins while unclasping the necklace around her neck. "Could you get rid of this? Destroy it, make it disappear forever, scatter it into the universe, something?" She drops the Hand of the Etruscan into Castiel's open palm. He nods to her. "Damn thing is a curse if you ask me."
"I'd be happy to," he returns, closing his fist around the powerful item.
"Thank you." Lizzy never wanted to see that thing again.
"I told you before that you were special," Castiel begins to explain. "Someone of importance, and that was completely true. Most people are born out of sheer accident or out of what most humans mistaken for love. You, on the other hand, were no mistake. You were destined to be."
Lizzy groans with the information as she places the bottle of whiskey on the floor and drops her head in her hands defeated. The conversation very quickly becomes heavier than she can possibly be ready for. "Fuck, Castiel… you're killing me here. You telling me that it was fate for me to be born? My parents had to meet, had to have me?"
"Yes…" he simply answers while trailing off.
"And fate is real?"
"Yes."
"Like, meant to fucking be, predetermined future, free will is a crock of shit kinda real?"
"To a certain extent, yes."
Lizzy closes her eyes, her head beginning to hurt. "Well, at least I can take comfort in winning five bucks off of Dean then," she remarks, bottle back in hand and whiskey already pouring down her throat. Having told Dean that she believed it to be fate that brought them together several times in the past, she looks forward to saying to him 'I told you so,' even if she's terrified by the thought.
"You are not supposed to know what I am explaining to you," Castiel starts, "but Laraje unfortunately let you both in on the fact that you, in the future, will be the driving force behind some very consequential decisions Dean will have to make. That is all very true."
"So what's the decision? And the big show?" Lizzy asks, recalling Laraje's words. "What does that mean?"
"I cannot tell you that, not yet, but I can tell you this…" Castiel finally turns to face her, peering intensely into her eyes. "The love the two of you have is real and very genuine. This is something that most humans are never blessed with but God allowed you and Dean to have this gift. He wanted it for you. Laraje told you that Dean and Sam are soul mates, and she didn't lie. But in very rare, very uncommon cases, a person can have more than one."
"So what, we really are Romeo and fucking Juliet over here?" Lizzy asks and takes in Castiel's expression. He looks at her even more sincerely than before. "Crap. You're serious."
"Very," he says to her. "Elizabeth, you were meant to meet Dean. You're paths were always supposed to cross because true love has been bestowed upon you both. Soul mates are rare and Dean has not been given many gifts in his life. You should allow yourself to be one of his very few bright spots and not deny yourself all that he has to offer you in return."
Her reaction to Castiel's suggestion is the opposite of what would be expected. Most would be horrified by knowing that they'd been set up Blind Date style by God himself. Lizzy on the other hand looks at the whole picture, the really big picture, and sees the luck she's stumbled upon. True love. The genuine article. She'd been so sure for so long that what she and Dean had was beyond the norm and having proof makes her so happy and a bit relieved.
"Not sure I know what to say about this," Lizzy admits, the revelation of what her life has become still not setting in yet.
"You don't have to say anything," Castiel responds. "Just be prepared for the future. You have a lot coming your way and a lesser human wouldn't be able to handle it. I have faith in your strength and fortitude. Dean will need you to hold him up and I believe you will do it with grace."
Lizzy smirks with the foreboding yet complimentary words the angel shares. "I already hold his ass up on a daily basis and you know that. So I say bring it, Cas."
The angel nods his head and Lizzy swears if he had been facing her she's see an actual smile on his face.
"I apologize for burdening you further in such a trying time," Castiel says quietly.
"Don't apologize!" Lizzy nearly shouts, making Castiel widen his eyes briefly. "You warned us about all of this and we didn't listen to you. This was our dumb ass faults because we'd rather pretend we're allowed to have a vacation than be safe and smart. Like I said, I'll never take what you say to me lightly ever again and I mean it."
"I'm happy you say this," he returns, an almost smile on his lips. Lizzy reaches out her hand over the passenger seat and Castiel just looks at her confused.
"Give me your hand," she directs him.
"Why?"
"Because I asked you to," Lizzy says. Cautiously, he reaches out to her and holds on, body still and awkward with the unfamiliar contact. Her predilection for physical contact is an awkward thing for him. "Thank you for explaining what you did to me. It makes this whole thing have at least one positive outcome. And I trust you… even if you tried to kill me about an hour ago."
"My plan was never to kill you, Elizabeth," Castiel explains. "As you now know, it is necessary for you to be alive."
"Uh, comforting," she caustically returns.
"Yes, well, God has a plan," Castiel remarks with another tight lipped smile, looking curiously at their interlocked hands. "Why did you have to hold my hand to tell me that?"
"Because I wanted to," she smiles slightly with his lack of understanding. "I always do that with my other guys, Dean and Sam, Bobby sometimes too. Just felt right to do the same with you too."
Castiel looks at her with an interesting expression and Lizzy thinks that it might just be happiness or acceptance, but who really knows with him.
There's a knock on the passenger side door and Lizzy turns to see snow being brushed away from the window with a green coat-covered forearm. Soon after, Dean's face can be seen peering into the cab through the small clearing he made. Before she can even register who it is, she hears the fluttering of feathers and Castiel is gone, her hand now clutching empty air.