Evan and I are sitting in a diner down the street eating pancakes. The place is tiny, but it is touristy, so it is expensive. Manhattan can be such a pain in the ass that way. We are both on the same side of the booth, watching the laptop while shoving pieces of pancakes into our mouths.

Our relationship is an odd one, but I am not a good judge of what a normal relationship is. Having no other friends to speak of, I simply have Evan. We aren't romantic in nature, although at times I wonder if it could phase into that. We are very much like what I imagine brothers and sisters to be. Still, there is a lot I don't know about him.

"Have you ever seen this?" he asks, pulling up a record I don't recognize.

It is the arrest record of Dean Winchester, one that looks like a rap sheet of a serial killer, if it was looked at with different eyes. Numerous arrests for burglary, assault, fraud, grave distraction, and the list goes on. I laugh slightly.

"No, I have to say that I haven't seen that. God, this doesn't sound good."

"What's your mom's maiden name? We could look her up."

"Summers."

The records pull up everything from breaking and entering to arson to a charge of murder and more. I try to imagine my little old mom doing all these things.

"She burned down a school?"

"Apparently."

I try to picture Mom burning down a school. It's harder to picture her doing it than to come up with a reason why. I stuff a piece of sausage in my mouth and take a long drink of hot coffee.

"Again, their trail dries up right after all those people were killed. All your relatives," he says, his voice quieting near the end.

The trail didn't dry up to much. I came from somewhere, so I am curious as to what happened between those years. Mom and Dad never speak of it. However, there was a significant amount of time between the deaths of my family members and my birth. Although there may be nothing to it, I feel that there is a reason for that time period. I suddenly glance at my watch.

"I have to go, Evan. By the time I get back to the house, the sun will probably be up."

"You're exaggerating."

"I don't think I am," I say, taking one last sweet bite of pancakes drenched in syrup.

When I reach my room again after climbing the tree, I see Castiel, Dawn, and Willow waiting for me. I haven't seen Willow in months. She's so sweet. I always enjoy her presence.

"See, I'm fine," I say, before they have the chance to speak.

Willow smiles, but the other two remain stoic.

"You know, for being dead, you guys are pretty bent out of shape."

"I'm not dead. I was never alive," Castiel notes, his expression blank, as usual.

I roll my eyes.

"You know what I mean."

"You're taking a chance every time you go out there," Dawn lectures.

"How is it that you can sound so much like my mom when you're practically the same age as me?" I ask, putting my bag in the closet.

I open the drawer beside my bed, pull out the false bottom and hide the new phone. I leave it on vibrate so it isn't accidentally heard by my parents with a ringtone.

"I'm serious, Elizabeth-"

"Okay, Dawn, do not call me that again. Especially in that tone. I get that you worry, but you're not my mom. Knock it off."

She steps back slightly and I can tell she is thinking things over.

"Sorry. I just worry."

"Well, maybe you wouldn't have to worry if you would just tell me what happened with my parents, rather than let me figure it out by myself. It would certainly make things move faster."

"We have already told you that you are a descendant of greatness," Castiel barely whispers from across the room.

"Can you please quit talking like a song from, 'The Lion King'? Just telling me what you mean."

He is again silence, which doesn't surprise me.

"Don't let them bother you, Lizzie. You'll find out about everything soon enough," I hear Willow say from behind me. As much as she is trying to say something soothing, it still annoys me.

"I need sleep, you guys. Let me sleep."

I wake to my phone vibrating against the inside of the desk a few hours later. Thankfully, it is still dark, but I am incredibly tired. I can barely open my eyes.

"Shut up," I mumble, scouring the drawer for it after pulling it apart. Finally, I push whatever button makes it quiet.

"Hello, Evan."

No one else has the number to this thing.

"Hello, princess."

The voice on the other end of the phone is not Evan. It is female and malicious in nature. I don't recognize it. The sound is enough to frighten me out of my lethargy, pulling me to a full alert state.

"Who is this? How did you get this number?"

"Getting a number to a cell phone is the least of the things I can do. I've been looking for you for a while now."

"Who is this?" I ask again, more demanding. Each of the words is emphasized.

"It doesn't matter. Not yet, anyway."

I am on my feet, over at the window, unsure of how I even got there. It is dark outside, but I am still scanning the woods.

"Your parents cheated. You weren't supposed to exist. That was the whole point of all of this."

I'm shaking.

"Can you see me yet?"

The question sends a chill down my spine. I try to speak, but cannot squeak out a word properly.

"Yes, dear, I can see you. You're looking right at me."

That's when I see a woman step out of the woods. She is staring up at me. I can't see her clearly, but I can see the shape of her figure.

"Who are you?" I ask again, able to speak once more.

"You'll find out."

I blink and she is gone. It couldn't have been too difficult to disappear with the acres of wooded area that are pure black with night. When I turn and run into Castiel, I nearly scream. There are tears running down my face that he is doing his best to brush away.

"You'll be okay. Just go back to sleep."

"Go back to sleep, my ass. What was that?" I ask, angrily, the tears still flowing.

"Just calm down."

"I can't calm down. There's some crazy fucking woman standing outside my house that knows the number of a phone I don't even know the number of!"

"She's a demon, Lizzie."

When he said that, his face seemed to fall apart. I know by the look that he was doing all he could to not tell me that. I swear I hear him curse under his breath, but have never known him to do that.

"A…demon? I'm seeing demons now?"

Out of all the things I had seen in my life, the ghosts, the angels, demons hadn't been high on the list. There had never been anything that had threatened me.

"You have to tell her now."

I hear Dawn's voice again and I want to scream at her to shut up. I'm so confused and scared that listening to them argue is the last thing I need.

"I'm not telling her yet. She's not ready-"

"They're coming for her now. She needs to be ready. Buffy was ready when she was fifteen. You tell her, or I will."

"We can't-"

"What are you two talking about?" I hiss, something that would have been louder, had people not been asleep in the house that I didn't want to wake up.

"Your mom is the Slayer," Dawn blurts out, something that causes Castiel to glare hideously in her direction.

"What is wrong with you?" he growls.

"You were never going to tell her."

"Yes, I was. But I wasn't going to spring it on her in the middle of the night when she isn't ready for it!"

"What, were you just going to wait for them to come and tear her apart then? When she can't defend herself?"

I don't much care for the tone of the conversation and it takes quite a while before I am able to interject myself into their argument.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Dawn! You're nothing more than a little dead girl, so why don't you let me do what I am supposed to do-"

"Hey!" I finally cut in as loudly as possible without rising my voice too much, "both of you knock it off! Now answer me something. What the hell is a Slayer?"