I stood in front of the window, my breath crystallizing upon its surface. With my nail, I carved a tiny x, which faded and came back with every breath. It's been months now. Yet I don't even know for sure if Dean knows what is going on.

I don't speak to anyone. I have found it is better that way. One night, a week ago, I got drunk in a bar. I must have bore a little of my true self, for when I left in the morning, by mid-afternoon the bar had blown up. It is a safe bet that even as I sit here, doing nothing, I have a world searching for me. Even ran into Meg a while back again, who was a little more than thrilled to see me.

Did a little research and I learned Lucifer has little more power than a demon with small mixes of angel mixed in without a true host. His host cannot take the true might of the angel. He's weaker without his vessel. Without me…as such, the appocolypse is almost on hold. Just for me…

I hope to run till I have fallen off the edge of the earth, just as the old explorers belived. Maybe then I will be safe. From Lucifer…from armagedon…from myself.

My eyes focus on the razor and the small pool of blood at my feet. They settle upon the jagged scars running up and down my arm. I am beginning to wonder if I just do it now in hopes one day Lucifer may just forget and leave me dead. Even if Lucifer is killed or sent back to Hell, I don't want to live through this. How can I ever face Dean again when I have been running so much? Like a coward, not willing to face Lucifer even once for fear that I give in. Knowing that the essence of evil in thousands of belifs world wide was meant to be housed inside my body, and that I might say yes.

Still, no matter how deep I dig into my own arm, it heals back. Not sure what Lucifer did to me, all I know is that I keep trying and failing. He wasn't kidding when he said he would not let me die. I considered ticking off the mafia or doing something else to get me killed where my body would be hard to find, but he must have anticpated this. He won't let me die at all.

Yesterday I finally got up the guts to tell Dean my goodbye. Though I had to call in a pattern so he knew it was me; I destroyed my cell months before and transferred all that mattered onto a new one I change once a month. The only reason I ever have it on though is to look at the pictures me and Dean took in Vegas eight years back.

Dean answered in the same typical gruffness, but the moment he heard my voice, his whole manner changed. He demanded to know where I was and what was going on that I hadn't had the decentcy to call him even once. Swearing he thought I was dead and needing to see me. I kept it short, knowing in a few hours this place would be swarming with demons and not wanting to give locals any reason to remember me. I explained something big was going on and if everything went right, he would never see me again.

If he had been in basic protective older brother mode before, he went into overdive. Slamming things into my ears about how sorry he was and that he really just wanted to see me again. I hung up before I caved and told him where I was going.

I could not slip up. The world depended on me keeping a big secret. I hitch hiked and drove stolen, rented, even bout a clunker, and rode a bus all the way to a few states away. Then I biked till I found a small town in Nebraska, renting a small hutch and putting up every trap and safeguard possible.

I have been around there ever since, working at a electrical store and keeping under the radar. Even though there were clear signs of a ghost in an old mansion outside of town, I did nothing. Didn't call Bobby, didn't even consider staking it out.

And why would I? one or two lives versus billions who would perish if Lucifer founf his host. No comparasion.

But today I saw signs of something I didn't expect, hense me not going to work. People are questioning workers all around town about the mansion. Someone is hunting that house.

Worse still is the style. The rock music names, the sudden absence in all stores of some stolen merchandise, expectially m&ms. Then the describtion a fellow employee come over to see why I wasn't at work. It could only be one person.

It's Dean.